With a flourish, Varien leapt back into the
air, providing his companions with aerial cover. The ground rumbled beneath the party’s feet
as they painfully made their way along the twisting path down the hillside
through the ravaged corpses of their enemies. Growls and hisses from the fog around them
showed that they were not yet out of the woods. “If we get somewhere relatively safe I can
cast that tiny hut spell and give us
some breathing space,” Siegfried said as he tried to stanch the bleeding from
his defensive wounds. There was a screech and a howl and a ghast
lunged out of the ash and attacked Siegfried, who threw up his shield to ward
off the creature’s slavering jaws. The ghast snorted and tossed the shield
aside, slashing at the bard with his elongated claws. Siegfried had to cast a shield spell to avoid being filleted by
the undead monster. “This again?” Radegast said wearily as she
drove her rapier deep into the thrashing creature’s torso, then withdrew it and
backpedaled as the misshapen shadows of several more ghasts began to emerge
from the gloom around them. Alec chopped at the ghast while Bob sent a firebolt into it. Smoke began to leak
out from the new holes in the undead’s body. Erwen yelped as the immolating ghast scorched
him. “Friends, there’s only one place in town that’s relatively safe, and
that’s Reidoth’s cottage,” he said, pointing to the southwest. Siegfried shoved the burning ghast away,
his hands blackening with fresh burns. He shook as he let out a silent roar,
then grabbed the gaping jaws of the ghast and pushed the creature against
Alec’s upturned blade. There was a squelching sound as Siegfried drove the
creature’s skull along the razor-sharp edge of the Trevelyan family greatsword,
splitting it like a ripe melon. The ghast’s skull fell away in two gory pieces. “Small man’s got a point,” the half-orc
growled as the ghast’s headless body slumped to the ground. A second ghast, still trailing flaking
sections of petrified ash, jumped at Radegast, clawing at her. Radegast yelled
out in anger and a bolt of lightning slammed down from the cloudy sky, zapping
the undead. Stumbling away, Radegast cast a word
of radiance as she legged it for Reidoth’s watch post. Varien nocked an arrow into his spectral
bow and waited for a clear shot. The ghast pursued Radegast, and as it
reached for her an arrow thudded into its neck, protruding from its throat and
spearing the end of its lolling tongue. The ghast gagged and spun about,
catching another arrow that drove deep into its skull. Varien gave Radegast a salute from his
overwatch position. Radegast tapped weakly on the shuttered
windows of the druid’s cottage. “Reidoth, buddy…” Yet another ghast growled and attacked.
Alec slashed at it violently, and Bob stepped up to it, grabbing it as he cast shocking grasp. The ghast jerked and
spasmed as lightning energy cooked it from the inside out. Erwen shook his head at Radegast’s
entreaties. “Those windows and doors are all bricked up from the inside,” he
said. “Reidoth uses a mouse hole to get in and out of the place.” He pointed to
the roof. “We need to climb up.” There was a rattle as the ladder from the
druid’s rooftop dropped down. Varien stood over the edge of the cottage’s roof.
“Way ahead of you, Erwen,” he smiled. There were more howls and growls from the
edges of the fog cloud. Varien’s smile turned into a frown. “It’s
time to go, friends! Get to high ground!” With that he swooped down Siegfried brandished Lightbringer and hung
back as Bob moved towards the ladder, remembering his duty to protect the
papers bound for Neverwinter. A ghast screamed as it tried to bite and claw the
bard, but Seigfried’s shield knocked the creature off balance. Radegast turned to mount the ladder just as
a ghast shambled around the corner of Reidoth’s hut and sank its fangs into her
upraised arm. Radegast screamed and tried to pull away as the ghast ground its
fangs deep into her flesh. Then its claws shot out, slashing at Radegast’s
throat. The half-elf shuddered as she felt icicles of frozen agony drive to her
very core, and then she felt nothing at all. Swaying on unfeeling legs, she
pitched sideways. Alec struggled free of Varien’s grasp and
turned to see Radegast fall the ground. “No!” he shouted, hurling a firebolt at the ghast with one hand and
snapping off a shot with his crossbow in the other. The ghast shuddered as the
attacks hit home. Radegast coughed weakly as the feeling
began to return to her extremities. Talos
must be smiling down on me today, she thought. Or at least, scowling less. Bob rushed over and put the ghast in a
headlock, zapping it with another shocking
grasp . He tossed the stunned ghast aside and tried to do the same to the
ghast menacing Siegfried, but couldn’t connect. Then he was scrambling up the
ladder to safety. Siegfried took in the glittering eyes and
fangs of the approaching ghasts, then leapt to Radegast, who was on her hands
and knees trying to summon the strength to stand. In one fluid motion he
scooped the half-elf up and over his shoulder in a smart fireman’s carry.
Trying not to leer too much at Radegast’s shapely bottom that filled his field
of vision, Seigfried pulled himself and his cargo up the ladder, pushing
Radegast over the eaves and then launching himself skyward, spinning in mid air
to land smartly on the roof of the cottage. With the toe of his boot he kicked
the ladder up rung by rung until it lay flat on the roof. “And that’s how it’s done,” he said,
breathing heavily. His scarf mopped at his sweat-covered brow. “My hero,” Radegast said wryly, propping
herself up on her elbow. Varien frowned. “Right then,” he said,
dropping through the open greenhouse panel into the druid’s cottage. Reidoth turned away from his worktable to
regard Varien, and then turned back to consult the antique Neverwintan
water-clock he had bolted to the wall. “Back so soon?” he quipped. With a clattering sound, the ladder dropped
down from the skylight, followed by the battered, bruised and bedraggled band. “Warning…accepted…” Siegfried said between heavy
breaths. Reidoth arched a furry eyebrow. “Now do you
understand?” Siegfried nodded. “We did bury the dead
just as you asked.” Reidoth bowed his head slightly. “Thank
you.” Erwen tugged at the druid’s robes. “You’d
better put the kettle on, Reidoth.” The rest of the party sprawled on the floor
of the druid’s cottage, exhausted. “Do you mind if we stay a while?” Erwen
asked Reidoth. Another eyebrow arched towards the ceiling.
“That depends,” the druid said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Are you going to
reincarnate another corpse?” Erwen shook his head. “We're all out of spells,” Seigfried said
wearily. “In fact, if you wanted to I’m pretty sure you could slit our throats
and we wouldn’t be able to stop you.” He thought for a moment. “Please don’t do
that.” The druid scratched at his long beard
thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose it’s the least I could do.” “We’re grateful,” Seigfried said as his
head nodded back and hit the wall. Soon his snores were rattling the panes of
the greenhouse. The adventurers mended their wounds as best
they could as they regained their strength while resting. Radegast handed the shard of the ise rune to Siegfried. “I want you to have this. It’s
obvious that you need protection from fire more than I do.” Siegfried cast a glare over in Erwen’s
direction. The Halfling druid was curled up like a cat at Reidoth’s feet as the
druid lounged in a wicker chair, smoking a pungent pipe. Siegfried looked at the icy dagger, reading
the runes as though they were in his native tongue. As he examined the magical
item he found he was able to detect an aura of magic emanating from it. The
half-orc smiled at this revelation. Varien finished cleaning the last of the
ghastly gore from his plate armor and set aside the polishing cloth. He turned
to his companions. “So, I spied a slithering green monster deep in a pit
beneath the tower to the north. We should go there and kill it.” Reidoth stiffened at this but said nothing. Siegfried shook his head, pointing to Bob.
“No, we got that necklace you were after and this agent of the Lord’s Alliance
still has to get his packet of papers to Neverwinter.” Varien turned to Reidoth. “So, now that
we’ve seen what that tower holds, are you ready to loosen your tongue and tell
us what we need to know?” Reidoth grimaced. “I cannot speak of it,
only to tell you to steer clear of that tower at all costs.” “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve gone
up against an evil worm thing,” Bob said. Alec shuddered. “Hideous and will haunt my dreams,”
Radegast said, creating a minor illusion
to show Seigfried an image of the Deathless Worm the party had fought beneath
Old Owl Well. “You killed one of those things?” Siegfried
asked, eyes wide. “I’m impressed.” “Come on, Reidoth, you know more than
you’re letting on.” Varien pressed. Reidoth fixed the paladin with a dark look.
“This line of questioning is testing my hospitality, friends.” Siegfried tried a different approach.
“We’re just asking for your judgment on this, Reidoth. What if we could lure
the Gilded Eye into a suicide mission to take out whatever lurks beneath the
tower, and we just cleaned up the leftovers. Would you consider that rude an
inhospitable?”
The druid hemmed and hawed. “It is my
judgment that Thundertree should be left alone until we can determine just what
is afflicting this blighted place.” “We respect your wishes on this matter,”
Siegfried said placatingly. Reidoth rearranged his robes. “Now then, if
you’ll excuse me I have some business to attend to.” Bob idly scratched his arms and remembered
that he wanted to ask the druid a question. “Speaking of business,” he said,
rolling up his sleeve, “would you mind checking out these weird scales?” “What’s this all about?” The druid pulled
out a battered pair of spectacles and peered closely at the raw skin of Bob’s
forearm, flecked here and there with gold and gold-green scales. Reidoth produced a polished wooden blade
from his sleeve and gripped Bob’s arm with his free hand. “Now hold still,
young man, this might sting a bit.” The druid deftly pried a scale from Bob’s
arm. The cleric winced. “Now then,” Reidoth said, holding the scale
up to one of his lit sconces. “Let’s see if we can’t determine what you are.” He grabbed a shard of glass and set the
scale on it, and then lit a small puck of compressed fuel and slid the shard of
glass into the flame, securing it on a small spindle. The stink of methane from
the burner soon overpowered the smell of pipeweed in the confines of the
cottage. Radegast pulled out a quill and some
writing paper and began setting down a summary of her adventures with the party
since leaving Silverymoon, making copies for Siegfried, the Order of the
Gauntlet, Bob, and Lord Neverember. Bob and Alec sidled up to Reidoth’s
worktable to get a better view of the druid’s ministrations. “So tell me, how long has this skin
condition troubled you?” Reidoth asked as he prodded the scale. Bob shrugged. “A few weeks, but it’s been
getting worse over the last tenday, when we arrived at Helm’s Hold and
Neverwinter Wood.” He scratched at his arm. “At first, when we got to
Phandalin, the scales were a golden colour, but then they started to show green
around the edges. Reidoth grunted as he worked, dropping a
pinch of powder into the conflagration. “I see,” he said thoughtfully. Alec leaned over. “Should that scale be
glowing red like that?” he asked. Then there was a flash of flame as the
scale exploded, setting half the druid’s worktable aflame and sending a
fireball racing up the wall and ceiling. Stemly screeched from his seat on the
shelf over the worktable. Worse yet, a caustic cloud of green gas
erupted from the scorched remains of the scale, enveloping the trio at the
worktable even as the flames scorched them. Alec, Bob and Reidoth fell back,
gasping and coughing. “Fascinating!” Reidoth wheezed. In spite of his surprise, Siegfried saw the
opening he was looking for and surreptitiously slipped a hand beneath the flap
of Bob’s bag of holding , visualizing
papers emblazoned with the sigil of the Order of the Gilded Eye. Bob, coughing and trying to smother the
flames, felt the bag tug away from him. He rounded on Siegfried, who grasped a
handful of papers in his hands and whose face wore a half-triumphant,
half-guilty expression. “Hey! Get your hand out of – wait, give
those back!” Bob shouted. “Listen to me,” Siegfried said. “It’s vital
that we read these and send a summary of their contents to Sildar Hallwinter
before we hand them over at Neverwinter. That’s what I’ve been saving my sending spells for.” Bob frowned. “Well, you could have just
asked.” “Where’s the fun in that?” Siegfried
smiled. “I apologize if I crossed some sort of line, but remember, I’m a noble
and not accustomed to having to ask for something.” Alec sank to his knees, retching. “I’d say that gas was poisonous,” Reidoth
exclaimed. “I think I can help with that,” Bob said,
casting lesser restoration on his
brother. The sickly green pallor of Alec’s skin
dissipated. “Thanks, brother.” “What were you doing?” Bob asked Reidoth.
“How? Why?” The druid frowned. “I was trying to divine
the provenance of your particular affliction, young man!” Siegfried wasted no time sifting through
the Order of the Gilded Eye’s warrants. He read with increasing interest about
the Gilded Eye’s campaign against the Order of the Gilded Eye, its suspicions
of an Ashmadai-Thayan Alliance that threatened Neverwinter, an extremist group
called The Cult of the Veil active in the Dessarin Valley, and accusations of
open deviltry in the town of Womford to the southeast. Then he turned to the
individual files, digesting the Gilded Eye’s reports on a Neverwintan noble and
suspected devil-worshipper Mordai Vell, a recently-inked file on Varien Aether
suspecting him of ties to the Order of the Burning Dawn and a shadowy religious
group called the Cult of the Phoenix. Then he opened a file whose subject was
none other than Lord Protector Dagult Neverember. Siegfried sat bolt upright
and read this file with great interest. He pulled out fresh parchment and began to
take down a copy of the collected Gilded Eye intelligence. “Hmm,” Siegfried said. “This warrant said
that the Gilded Eye captured an Ashmadai leader right here in Thundertree.
Reidoth, did you ever encounter a dwarven woman skulking around town?”
Reidoth nodded slowly. “Yes, the vagabond
and I steered clear of one another. Then the Gilded Eye descended on
Thundertree, trying to fend off the undead on the one hand and engaging the
Seared Ones on the east side of town with the other. You can imagine how that
went. I fear the Gilded Eye was unable to finish the job, though they carried
that woman back to Helm’s Hold.” At this, Fiendsbane rattled in his
scabbard. “I’ll finish the job,” he
hissed to Varien. “And Varien,” Siegfried pointed at the
paladin. “You almost got honey-trapped!” Varien grimaced. “That stuff in my file is
nothing but a pile.” Siegfried finished his copying and gave the
sheaf of papers back to Bob. “You’re going to want to hold onto Varien’s file
rather than hand it over to the Lord’s Alliance,” he said. “It’s never a good
idea to hand over ammunition on one of your friends, just in case the other
accusations are found to have merit.” Bob nodded. “Sound advice.” Siegfried relaxed and tried out his new detect magic cantrip. He could see an
aura of draconic magic suffusing Bob, and could pick out the rough shapes of
the magic items worn by the party members. This pleased him greatly. Hours passed. “Well, Reidoth, we have taken advantage of
your hospitality long enough,” Varien said. “I’m not arguing with you there,” the druid
muttered. “What’s the quickest way out of town?”
Siegfried asked. “Back the way you came,” Reidoth said. “Especially
if you’ve cleared most of the undead out of the way.” The party bade the druid farewell and
climbed up the ladder. Radegast turned to Bob. “So, get ready to
turn undead at the first sign of trouble,” she said. Bob nodded.
Erwen cast pass without trace on his
companions and they began to slowly, stealthily extricate themselves from the
ruins of Thundertree, which disappeared behind them in the ashen haze. A mile or two later they found themselves
at the magical hedge. The fog around them was beginning to clear ever so
slightly. Siegfried traded Bob Lightbringer for Hack.
“Thanks for taking care of my axe,” he said as he began to chop a hole through the
greenery. The party filed through, twigs and thorns catching on their clothing,
but otherwise they faced no resistance. On the other side, the party members were
able to breathe deeply for the first time in days as they stripped their ghast
masks off. “Now,” Siegfried smiled. “It’s Neverwinter or
bust.”
0
0
1
2544
14501
University of Waterloo
120
34
17011
14.0
Normal
0
false
false
false
EN-US
JA
X-NONE
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-ansi-language:EN-US;
mso-fareast-language:JA;}
The adventurers began to follow the steam-shrouded Neverwinter River westward.