As the sulfurous smell faded inside the
druid’s cottage, Reidoth sighed heavily, preparing Darvin Evandar’s fresh
corpse for burial. Siegfried used prestidigitation to set the druid’s furniture back to rights. “So
sorry about these idiots,” he said to the druid, who ignored him.
“Hey!” Varien snapped. Siegfried frowned at the ease with which
his honest feelings had escaped his lips. Summoning his most diplomatic disposition,
he tried again, addressing Reidoth. “I mean, I sympathize that you have to
tolerate the antics of these buffoons – oh, I’ve been charmed !” He chuckled. Varien smiled. “So now the truth comes out.
What would you have to lie to us about?” “A lot, actually,” Siegfried said, grinning
widely. “I’m a very untrustworthy person, all things considered, however I am a
lot less likely to murder someone on sight than you apparently are.” “I extended that Tiefling every common
courtesy,” Varien countered. Alec frowned at Siegfried. “You destroyed
your position the moment you walked into my room at the inn.” Siegfried cleared his throat. “I was, if
you’ll recall, stopping an agent of the Black Spider from separating your head
from your shoulders.” He turned to Varien. “By the way, what’s a Black Spider?” “How do you know about the Black Spider?”
Varien said. Siegfried shrugged. “Yesterday I sent a
message to our mutual friend in Phandalin, Sildar Hallwinter.” He turned to
Bob. “And by the way, my orders are to deliver Bob and his paperwork to
Neverwinter at the first opportunity. We are on the clock, fellow member of the
Lord’s Alliance.” Bob nodded slowly. “Anyway, I told Sildar about the false Alec
in Alec’s room at the inn in Helm’s Hold and he speculated that the Black
Spider might have sent a shapeshifter after Alec. Just who is the Black
Spider?” “Nezznar,” Bob said through gritted teeth.
“He’s our arch-nemesis.” “To be fair, evil and tragedy are our
arch-nemeses,” Varien clarified. “But also Nezznar, I guess.” “Remember that time he nearly killed all of
us?” Bob asked. “A lot of things have tried to kill us,”
Varien said, a smirk on his face. “Nezznar needs to take a number.” He turned
to Reidoth, who was busy wrapping Evandar’s body in spider’s silk. “So, about
this tower. Why is it so terrible there that we shouldn’t so much as touch it?” Reidoth shuddered. “I dare not speak of
it.” “By why though?” Varien said. Reidoth did not deign to reply. “Fine then,” Varien said. Reidoth sighed. “Trust me when I say you
want no part of it,” the aged druid said. “So we should just leave Thundertree then?”
Varien said. “What’s the best way out?” “Back the way you came,” Reidoth said. Meanwhile, Erwen was shuffling about in
something of a state, sheepishly mumbling apologies to Reidoth as he used mending to repair rips and tears in the
druid’s belongings. “There’s a good lad,” Reidoth said, patting
the Halfling’s head. “You meant well.” “Speaking of going to Neverwinter,”
Radegast said wearily. “I have to get there within the next couple of days.” “We’re on our way, Radegast,” Varien said.
“We have business to attend to here.” “We need to finish it quickly, that’s all
I’m saying,” Radegast said. “Fine, fine,” Varien waved a callous hand.
“Reidoth, how much longer with that burial shroud?”
“Just give me a minute,” Reidoth snapped. “Well, since we have a minute,” Siegfried
waded back into the fray. “Tell me about the mess at Wyvern Tor, off the
Triboar Trail. Am I to understand that one of you stole my paycheque?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Varien
said. “Townmaster Wester posted a bounty on orcs at Wyvern Tor, and we followed
it up fair and square. And to be fair, they shot first.” “Actually, I shot first,” Radegast reminded
him. “Sure, we shot first, like she said,”
Varien said. “But those orcs were murdering farmers and menacing the
countryside.” Siegfried frowned. “Did you get a chance to
ask them of their business?” “They were orcs,” Varien shrugged. “They
had their thing going on, and we put a stop to it, simple as that.” Siegfried fixed Varien with a disgusted
look. “What are you looking at me like that for?”
Varien said. “Allow me to finish. Those orcs were searching for relics in an
effort to bring back the former glory of Uruth Ukrypt. And they were killing
farmers.” “Uruth Ukrypt,” Siegfried repeated. “The
ancient orcish kingdom?” “They were bad people doing bad things,”
Varien said. “They had to be dealt with.” Siegfried rummaged around in his pack and
came up with his vellum writing pad. He opened it to the page he’d been working
on. “Know what this is?” He showed it to the group. Radegast and Varien took a close look at
the image, which Siegfried had painstakingly traced from the orcish sketchbook
he’d recovered from the remains of Wyvern Tor. The original was smeared with wet ash that
had made the blood ink run, making large sections of it indecipherable, but
Siegfried had drawn the legible portions as faithfully as he could, hoping that
others might be able to fill in the gaps.
“Looks to me like an Elvish coat of arms,” Radegast said. “Yes, a heraldic crest, just what I was
thinking,” Varien said. He smiled. “Where’s Xylon when you need him, right?” Bob glowered. “I found this in an orcish book, made up of
pages with human skin,” Siegfried explained. “There were other sketches too,
including something called the Bloodbone Throne. I still haven’t been able to
work out this image’s meaning.” “Well, hold onto it and we’ll think more
about it,” Varien said. “Now, let’s bury these bodies. Bob, if you’ll just open
your bag of holding?” Bob crossed his arms and shifted the bag
out of sight with a shake of his hips. “I’m not putting dead bodies inside my
bag of holding! You want to bring them, you carry them.” “I’m sure someone will shoulder that
burden,” Varien said. He looked up and jumped through the opening in the roof
of Reidoth’s greenhouse. Moments later, a ladder dropped down from above. Bob and Alec began to climb the ladder. Siegfried sighed and turned to the druid as
Radegast put one of the bundles over her shoulder. “Reidoth, I recently found this magical axe
and am convinced that it has a twin,” he said to the druid. Reidoth nodded, his eyebrows twitching. “Ah
yes, I believe the zealots from Helm’s Hold used it to cut temporary openings
in the hedge that wards away visitors to Thundertree. I’ve seen its twin.” Siegfried leaned forward expectantly. “I have seen this axe, sunk to the haft,”
Reidoth said. “But trust me when I say you do not want to remove it from its
resting place.” Siegfried hoped that Varien’s zone of truth had expired. “Sound
advice, I’ll wager,” he said, and smiled at his lie. He gently lifted the
second body over his shoulder and began to climb the ladder. Reidoth sighed. “If you seek your axe’s
twin, you will find it in a clearing in Neverwinter Wood several leagues to the
east of here.” He said with infinite tiredness. “Seek the Grandfather.” “Thank you, Reidoth, and if we can be of
any further service to you while in Thundertree, don’t hesitate to ask for us,”
Siegfried said, and climbed up and out of the druid’s cottage, leaving Erwen,
who stood wringing his hands, trying to block the worst of the water damage
from Reidoth’s sight. Varien stalked back and forth atop the
cottage, trying to peer through the fog to discern how many undead were
prowling in the dimness below. “So, how many of you are there down there?”
he said. “Just the two of us on this side,” hissed a
ghast from below. “Fair enough!” Varien said, raising
Fiendsbane to the sky and calling on Sune’s divine favour. He jumped down into
the cloud of ash, landing lightly. He was immediately surrounded by half a
dozen hungry zombies and cackling ghasts. “There’s more than two of you!” Varien
protested as he raised his shield to block the ghast’s attack. The undead threw Varien’s shield aside and
raked his claws down the side of his face. Varien shuddered at the cold fire of
the wounds, but stayed on his feet. Radegast heard the sound of the melee
unfolding below. Sighing, she set down the cadaver, cracked her knuckles, and,
doing some mental figuring, called a warning to Varien. “Up top!” She cast shatter on a point in the haze below her. A ringing sound of thunder enveloped the
huddle of zombies around Varien, who clapped his hands to his ears to block the
worst of the spell. He felt like his eardrums and eyeballs were about to burst. For the zombies around him, it was much
worse. The sonic attack blasted the rotten flesh from their bones, spraying wet
patterns of black blood against the wall of Reidoth’s cottage in a swirl of
gore. The zombies’ bones disintegrated under the spell’s assault. The ghast
bled profusely from its ears, eyes, and mouth as the shatter spell tore up what remained of its senses. Varien, temporarily deafened, gave Radegast
a thumb’s up. Bob walked to the edge of the cottage and
could see the shadowy forms prowling below. “Turn, zombies, turn!” he shouted as he
called down Sune’s divine favour to turn the undead. The ravenous howls below turned into
squeals of fright and panic as a dozen or more ghasts and ghouls shambled away
from Bob’s divine presence, trying to put as much distance between them and the
cleric as possible. Alec joined his brother at the edge of the
rooftop and aimed at a fleeing zombie with his hand crossbow, sending a bolt
that lodged deep between the creature’s shoulder blades. “Say, Bob,” Siegfried said, sidling up next
to the cleric. “Might I borrow that mace of yours? I can’t help but point out
that Lightbringer would shine all the brighter in my hands, considering their
natural ability.” “The zone of truth strikes again,” Bob
murmured. “Oh, I never dissemble when it comes to
pointing out my superiority,” Siegfried smiled. “And I will be sure to return
it to its rightful owner afterward.” Bob sighed. “Well, I’m not much for the
punchy-punchy, so by all means, swing away.” He unlimbered Lightbringer and
handed it over to Siegfried. Siegfried pulled out Hack and gave it to
Bob. “For collateral,” he explained. Then he did a smart backflip off the edge
of the roof, joining the fray below. The zombie nearest Varien turned and began
slouching away, giving the paladin the opportunity to swing his sword and
decapitate the creature. The headless body lurched two or three more steps
before collapsing into a drift of ash. The paladin heard approaching moans as a
pair of zombies, untroubled by Bob’s divine presence, rounded the corner of the
cottage and shambled towards him, arms outstretched. Inside the cottage, Erwen tried again to
apologize for the mess he’d made of Reidoth’s home. “Think nothing of it, my boy,” Reidoth
said. “In fact, I admire your friends’ fighting spirit. It may yet serve them
well, but it may yet lead to their doom.” Erwen nodded. Reidoth sighed, hands on his hips, as he
stared down at the Halfling. His eyebrows twitched thoughtfully. “Perhaps I can
share with you some secrets I’ve learned in my travels through the woods, and
through this blighted village.” He bent down and whispered something in Druidic
in Erwen’s ears. The Halfling’s eyes widened as his
knowledge of druidic magic was expanded. “Cool, cool, brah,” Bud said, sprouting new
leaves to replace the burnt fronds atop his head. Siegfried made a perfect three point
landing as he uttered what he hoped was the correct command word in Celestial.
The third point of the bard’s landing was of course Lightbringer, which lodged
itself deeply inside the cranium of a stunned zombie. The magical mace began to
glow as bright as a torch, revealing Siegfried’s handiwork as he gracefully
pulled the weapon free, and swung it a second time, cleaving the creature’s
midsection. Siegfried spun about and leapt towards the oncoming group of
undead, landing another blow. Varien moved towards Siegfried, slashing a
second zombie to ribbons and shoving a third to the ground. Radegast hopped to the ground next to it and speared the prone zombie, killing it. A nearby ghast howled with impotent rage
and backpedaled. “I’ll get you, and then I’ll eat you!” it hissed, pointing a
clawed finger at the paladin and bard. Alec jumped down and pursued a zombie,
which was frantically beating its hands against the sagging clapboard wall of a
nearby ruin in an effort to flee. His first strike with the greatsword ran
through the creature’s torso, and the second cut it in half. Erwen hopped up the ladder and wildshaped
into the form of a giant eagle, taking wing and keeping a sharp eye out on the
goings-on below. Siegfried dispatched the last zombie, and
for the moment, silence descended on the party’s surroundings, broken only by
the shuffling of undead feet as the creatures sought refuge from the aura of
divine presence. A nearby ghast stayed as close as he could, gnashing its teeth
and scowling as it backed away. “I’m going to eat you,” it promised in a
singsong voice. “Nice and slow.” “So where to?” Bob said, ignoring the
ghast. “East,” Varien said. To Siegfried he
whispered, “Check out that ruin over there.” Siegfried nodded and tiptoed
towards its empty doorframe. He peeked in and found a single petrified ghast.
Turning back, he hissed, “empty house. Not a storefront.” The house was half swallowed by a
dense thicket, with trees growing up through its ruined foundations. The lane
continued south a short distance past the ruin before ending in an overgrown
field thick with patches of gorse and briars. Varien nodded at the bard and, holding his
glowing sword aloft, began picking his way through a copse of dead trees that
stood between him and the dim outlines of a larger structure to the east. He
had to skirt the frozen form of another ghast caked in layers of solidified ash
to do so. He stealthily avoided awakening the creature. Siegfried followed, equally quiet. The
structure that emerged from the ashen clouds appeared to be a shop or workshop
of some kind, larger than the other cottages that dotted the town’s notional
streets. Its roof was more intact than
the other buildings they had seen so far, but only in places. “Well, if Varien can do it, so can I,”
Radegast muttered as she followed suit. To her horror, she heard the cracking
sound of ash sloughing off the statue-like creature in sheets. Dropping her
bundled burden, she turned back and put a gloved hand over the ghast’s mouth,
stabbing it with her rapier as she grappled it and tried to drag it into the
bushes to dispatch it quietly. The ghast began to struggle with surprising
strength. Alec unsheathed his greatsword and hacked
at the creature, careful not to stab Radegast in the process. Bob cast toll the dead and the creature writhed in agony. There was a screech from above as
Erwen-Eagle raked the ghast with his talons. The ghast fell apart in Radegast’s arms.
She tossed its remains into the bushes. Siegfried followed Varien towards the
larger structure. Two ghast-statues were blocking their path, and as Siegfried
tried to sidle around one, it lurched to life, reaching out with its grasping
claws, though its legs remained encased in rock-hard ash. The sword bard easily
ducked and dodged the ghast’s attacks. While it was struggling to free itself from
its ashen prison, Siegfried stepped back and swung his mace, caving in the
creature’s skull. The second ghast screamed and shambled
towards Varien, chunks of ash shattering as they fell from its body. Siegfried
leapt towards it and struck it with a wrathful
smite . Varien shoved the dying creature away. “And
stay dead!” he shouted to its twitching corpse. He brought Fiendsbane down on
it twice, cleaving it into ragged hunks of blackened flesh. There was another howl as a ghast jumped
out from behind a dead tree trunk. Radegast, joining the melee, cast word of radiance and stabbed the
creature. Bob fired a ray of frost
that zapped the ghast with cold fire. Erwen-Eagle dropped out of wildshape in
mid-air, turning instead into a brown bear that collided with the ghast at
terminal velocity. Erwen-Bear was a blur of teeth and claws as he tore the
creature apart. “Well, since you seem to have the perimeter
secured…” Siegfried said and walked through the door. The warped floorboards squeaked as
Siegfried entered the ruined building. To his immediate right was a sagging
wall, only half-upright, that divided the first chamber from another, larger
room. Misshapen lumps filled the corners of the
room and Siegfried struggled to identify what he was looking at. Until a couple of the lumps moved, and opened
their multitudinous eyes. “Oh, hells,” Siegfried hissed as two giant
spiders began to scuttle rapidly towards him. He backed away, just out of range
of their pulsating pedipalps and masticating mandibles, but as he exited the
structure, one of the spiders shot a sticky strand of webbing at him, which
splattered against his chest. With a yank, he was pulled off his feet and
dragged back inside. “I think I’ve found the Black Spider!” he
shouted. Varien rushed in after him and saw the two
hulking spiders looming over the prone Siegfried, who was struggling as one of
the creatures’ spinnerets continued to spray him liberally. He swung Fiendsbane with a flourish,
severing the first spider’s legs as the blade flashed in a wide arc. Before the
creature’s heavy body could hit the floor, he speared its cephalothorax with a spiteful smite. The
creature shuddered and died, leaking ichor from its severed limbs. Putting all his weight
behind his shield, he bashed the second spider and shoved it onto its back. Its
legs gesticulated frantically as it tried to right itself. Siegfried tried to
burst his bonds and failed. He looked about, hoping that nobody noticed. Radegast stepped over
his body and slashed at the prone spider with her rapier. Behind her was Alec,
who brutally hacked at the spider, slicing open its abdomen in a horrible gush
of gore. The creature’s legs stopped twitching and curled back towards its body
in a horrid posture of death. The geyser of gore
sprayed Radegast, who stood impassively, dripping in spider juice, with only
the slightest burbling sigh of resignation escaping her lips. “Uh, sorry about
that,” Alec said sheepishly. The insides of the structure had obviously
served as a nest for these giant spiders, whose webs draped the walls, floors
and ceiling. Here and there were the desiccated remains of previous meals; body
parts hanging from strands of spider silk and discarded bits of armor, clothing
and weapons littered the floor. Radegast quickly took note of a cocooned
humanoid form nearby and cut it open, revealing the shriveled up body of a male
elf. The body, clearly sucked dry, wore studded leather armor and a shortsword
in the scabbard at its hip. “Poor thing never even got his sword out,”
Radegast whispered as she knelt down to loot the corpse. A pouch on the elf’s belt revealed a potion
of healing and a liberal amount of gold and silver pieces. There was a flash of silver at the dead elf’s
throat, and Radegast gingerly pulled out a necklace on the end of which swung a
small pendant – a crest featuring Pegasus rearing over an array of wands, six
in total. “Hello, what’s this?” Radegast said,
examining the crest. “If I know my elvish heraldry, and I daresay I do, this is
the symbol of House Ibaereth, an elven house of Neverwinter Wood.” “Do tell,” Varien said. “You see this seal? It’s the combination of
the seals of Houses Ealoeth and Ildacer,” Radegast warmed to the subject. “Which
suggests that a union of these two houses created the Ilbaereth line.” “Fascinating,”
Siegfried said, pulling strands of sticky webbing apart as he struggled to his
feet. “I actually know an elf named Ibaereth.” “You do?” Radegast
asked. “Yes, Yareene
Ibaereth, she’s the proprietress of the Elfstone Tavern in Waterdeep’s Castle
Ward,” Siegfried said. “She’s nice enough, to members of elvenkind at least. The
Elfstone can be tricky to get into if you’re not an elf, or half-elf,” he said
as a concession to Radegast, who frowned. “But I’ve darkened its door once or
twice, thanks to my talents. They serve an excellent elverquisst, distilled from sunshine and rare fruit, so they say. ” Varien rolled his
eyes.
“At any rate, perhaps Yareene would be interested to know that a relative of
hers came to an end here in Thundertree,” Siegfried said. “Would you mind if I
held onto the seal until I can return it to her?” “Be my guest,”
Radegast shrugged, tossing Siegfried the pendant. Satisfied that neither the
elf’s armor nor shortsword were enchanted, she laid the body back to rest.
Bob
poked his head inside the room, took in the spiders and their webbing, and
whispered “nope” before ducking back out, content to hold the line outside.