The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions

[Realms #200] Not With a Bang...

"You've got to be kidding me," Finian muttered with a weary shake of his head. Several of the guards who had survived the temple's collapse were readying weapons and moving toward the front of the crowd.

"I will give them this," Ruze observed. "On the path of the pure they are not, but they are steadfast in their cursed belief. They are that, they are."

"Indeed," Ledare grunted then lowered her voice and added, "Perhaps we can talk our way out of this. We have crushed their plans after all."

"Might I suggest we run," Rherram said hopefully, but instead Finian handed the man his satchel of herbs.

"Ruze and Ledare would never make it," he said and drew a silver-tipped arrow from his quiver. He took a step forward saying, "Target Mom, if you can. If we kill the toughest one of the bunch, perhaps the rest will flee."

"Sound tactics," Ruze said with a nod. He readied his scimitars "Assuming we can get to her."

The ugly woman wasn't making any attempt to advance on them, seeming content, instead to let the cultists do the dangerous work. She was standing near the rear of the crowd now as the others swarmed forward like rats. Finian aimed for Mom's head and loosed his arrow, but the shot was too high and it sailed harmlessly over her.

In unison, the Archer and Rherram both said, "Sh*t!"

A particularly brave, or crazed, cultists charged forward, brandishing a dagger. He was chanting something that sounded like gibberish as he ran. His eyes were wild. He charged at Ledare, but Ruze took a single step and put himself in the man's path. Or rather, he put his scimitar in the man's path and a combination of skill, luck and the man's own momentum did the rest. With a single blow, he decapitated the cultist and sent the head tumbling horribly into the crowd. The mob split to avoid the grisly missile and several of the more weak-willed cultists ran for the main gate, screaming.

The nearest guard swung his longsword at the Battleguard, but Ruze easily dodged the clumsy blow. He retaliated with one of his own, but the man's shield deflected it harmlessly away.
Ledare sighted down the barrel of her repeating hand crossbow and squeezed off a shot at Mom. Her missile faired no better than Finian's and flew off into the night.

A pair of guards and a pair of robed cultists came at them, but their attacks were pitifully ineffective. One of the cultists somehow managed to disarm himself as he charged, nearly stabbing himself in the foot. It was almost comical.


Mom was not amused and she roared and hissed her displeasure from the rear of the dwindling mass of cultists. Kirnoth smiled at her rage and twisted the Ring of Invisibility on the unconscious baby's finger. The ring magically sized to fit the infant's digit and an instant later the baby vanished. Marking the spot where the invisible child lay, the mage moved away, drew an arrow from his quiver and fired it at Mom's back. His shot flew true, sinking deeply into the woman's back. She turned and regarded Kirnoth with her evil red eyes. Viscous drool fell from her pointed teeth as she smiled and pulled the arrow free.
The elf had forgotten that it took silver or magic to harm the wererat.


Finian saw Mom turn and spotted Kirnoth across the courtyard with his bow drawn. The Archer lined up another shot and fired, missing badly once again.

"Dammit!" he cursed and dropped his bow. As he moved toward Mom, his hands went to his longsword and dagger. One of the guards took an opportunistic swing at the ranger, but Rherram landed a glancing blow to the man's neck with Ruze's warhammer and made the blow go wide. The old healer was just barely able to avoid the enraged guard's retaliatory swing. Ledare spun, her longsword suddenly in her hand and laid open the guard's throat with a savage slice of her longsword.

Ruze traded swings with the other guard and the cultist who had managed to retain a grip on her dagger.


Kirnoth had no time to fire another arrow or draw his longsword before Mom closed with him. He managed to avoid her meaty left fist and the flashing point of her kris dagger, but her jagged yellow fangs opened a bloody rent in his leather armor. He staggered back, alive, but just barely, and gestured at the skaven. "Conturbo!" he shouted, but the pain from his chest wound made the spell fizzle ineffectually.

Mom chuckled evilly and bore down on the mage once more.

[Realms #200a] ...But With a Whimper

Finian closed with the skaven from behind, his longsword and dagger flashing in the moonlight. Unfortunately, the glowing sword missed its mark and only his dagger found flesh. The non-magical blade sunk up to the hilt in Mom's shoulder; she hardly seemed to notice it and the wound promptly closed once Finian drew the dagger free. She half-turned and leered at him mockingly.

"I'laito naa manke?" the Archer called out to Kirnoth in elvish, hoping to learn the whereabouts of the baby without alerting Mom.

"Re na-aru i'eithel!" Kirnoth managed to gasp in rely. The well had seemed like a good spot at the time; now with his body growing cold from loss of blood, the elf thought it seemed too close to the melee. He collapsed onto the ground and played dead; it was his only defense.

Finian glanced to the side, making sure that he knew where the well was if he was forced to make a hasty retreat. Mom seized the momentary distraction and sank her teeth into the Archer's side. Finian grunted in pain and danced back a step even as the wererat swallowed a bloody mouthful of his flesh.



"Oh dear!" Rherram said. He'd spotted Finian and Kirnoth's predicament despite his human lack of low-light vision. He pointed in that direction, quite unmindful of the armed aggressors nearby. Ledare glanced in the direction he'd indicated, scabbarded her longsword and drew her hand crossbow all in one elegant, lightning-quick motion. That's where her grace ended, however. Her quarrel sailed off into the night well away from her intended target.

Cursing, she slammed the nearest cultist with her shield. The woman, who had only just found her dropped dagger and moved to engage them again, was in mid-stride and caught the rim of the shield on her left knee. She cried out and fell to the ground, unconscious from the pain. Ledare stepped over her and set herself to charge across the courtyard at Mother Bromson.

"Kitten, stay closest to me," Ruze called out. "It seems my Queen grants me her strength this day." The scimitar in his left hand slashed outward and pierced the last remaining guard in the chest. The man gurgled and crumpled over backward. The last cultist stepped fearlessly in and thrust his dagger beneath Ruze's dancing blades. The knife caught the Battleguard in the right knee and sent him falling to the ground.

His scimitars clattered against the cobbles as they fell from his nerveless fingers and Ledare turned toward the sound. "Where the hell did Draelond go?!" she cursed, abandoning her plan to help Kirnoth and Finian in favor of keeping Ruze alive if she could. "Now would be a wonderful time to have his swordarm at our sides!"



But Draelond was far away - too far away to hear the clashing of steel on steel or the screams of the wounded and dying. In fact he couldn't hear much of anything except the pounding of his heart and a part of his own panicked brain urging him to run as far and as fast as he could. He tried to fight against the urge but was unable. For every rational argument toward valor that his mind made, his instincts screamed, "Get out of here! Now!"

He warred with himself as he staggered along the path that lead eventually out of the forest altogether. Now that he didn't have the benefit of guidance from those with elven blood in their veins, he realized how dark it was under the dense branches of Othelwood. His progress along the path was slow and painful; he stumbled into thorny brambles and yarpick trees over and over again, opening stinging welts on his hands and legs. It wasn't until he'd made it almost as far as the body of the mage that Finian had brought down that he was finally able to bring himself under control. He brought himself to a stop, hid behind the trunk of a bronzewood tree, clutched Ravager to his chest like a lover and shivered in the darkness.

As the knots of fear in his stomach slowly uncoiled themselves, he thought of the others. Had they all perished in the temple's collapse? Were they even now fighting for their lives? He wanted to find them and help them if he could, but every time he even looked in the direction of the ruined keep the need to run started to reassert itself. Instead he huddled in the dark beside the path with the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.



Finian slashed at the skaven with longsword and dagger, but she avoided his attacks with more agility than seemed possible for a woman of her size and age. She retaliated with her dagger and another snap of her yellowed fangs. Finian fended off both attacks with ease, but stepped in the path of her left fist. It thudded into his right thigh and nearly made him lose his footing. She chuckled at him and Finian thought that he could see where Nunzio had gotten his sparkling personality.

On the ground, Kirnoth peeked open an eye and it seemed to him that Mom had totally forgotten about him. He edged his hand to the hilt of his sword and waited for the proper moment to strike.



Rherram dropped the warhammer and bent down to attend Ruze, ignorant of the dagger-wielding assailant who took an opportunistic stab at him. Ledare made sure that he didn't need to worry about him any more. The Janissary spun her silver-iron longsword as she came at the cultist and the blade cleaved through the man's right shin, splintering bone and sending him to the ground, dead. "You can deal with Ruze," Ledare said. It bore little resemblance to a question.

"Yes! Yes!" the healer replied without looking up. "Go!"

She did.



Finian thrust outward with his longsword but Mom managed to twist away from the blade. She couldn't avoid his dagger too and it sank deeply - and ineffectually - into her abdomen. Again, Mom attacked Finian with wild abandon, stabbing with her dagger, gnashing with her teeth and madly pummeling with her fist. The Archer dodged and weaved expertly, avoiding her assault with ease.

Kirnoth seized Mom's preoccupation with Finian and sat up abruptly. His sword slashed upward through the air, but missed the wererat entirely. He did, however, succeed in alerting her to the fact that he was still alive.

Mom had other things to worry about, however. An instant later, Ledare came clanking out of the darkness at full speed with violence in her eyes and a battle cry she had learned at the academy on her lips. Her sword licked outward and opened a bloody slice in Mom's side. It was a minor wound, but it was also the first lasting damage that Mother Bromson had suffered. The wererat's demeanor changed instantly to one of defense rather than offense. She backed away from Ledare, her attention shifting warily between each of her three attackers.

Finian roared in anger and lashed out with his sword and dagger, but Mom deflected the longsword with her own dagger and dodged the knife blow with ease. Kirnoth slashed with his longsword, opening a gash on Mom's right shin that went all the way to the bone. Even as the wound began to knit itself closed, Ledare struck the same spot with her own blade. Mom cried out and this injury didn't heal.

"Fresh ingredients for the Mother of all meat pies!" Ledare bragged as the skaven turned to flee, dropping her defenses as she did so.

Finian seized the opportunity and stabbed her in the head with his longsword and sunk his dagger into her right knee for good measure. Kirnoth slashed his sword across the back of her right shin. And Ledare's sword sliced through her left shin. Mother Bromson fell ignominiously to the ground dead.

"Yes!" Finian hissed, raising his sword skyward in victory. Ledare clanked her own sword against his and smiled.

"The baby!" Kirnoth said quickly as he scrambled back to his feet. They found the unconscious infant without much trouble in the spot where Kirnoth had left her. He returned the Ring of Invisibility to Ledare and let out a weary sigh.

"Let's get back to Grey House," the mage said and Ledare nodded. Rherram, had other ideas, however. The old healer stumbled out of the darkness wiping Ruze's blood off his hands with a bit of cloth.

"I'd prefer it if you all accompanied me back to my compound," he said. "It's on this side of Strenchburg Junction. If we ride, we could be there just after first light."

"We have business with the King that can't-" Ledare started to say and the man held up his hand to silence her.

"It's not just for my own sake that I make this suggestion," he explained. "In checking your friend, the Shaharizod worshipper, I discovered that he's infected with bubbling pussties as well as the first stages of pudding lung. I daresay that we've all been exposed to some rather nasty diseases tonight, and are likely contagious. Walking into Barnacus like you are would be dangerous for the capital's entire population. But I've got the supplies and such necessary to treat every known disease back at my place." He put his hands on his hips and nodded. "I'm a fair healer, as Finian can attest, and I could likely have you all on your feet by Moonsday after next."

[Realms #201] More Bad News

"He is a fine healer," Finian conceded. "And I don't want to spread a plague in Barnacus." He nonchalantly raised his sword and brought it down on Mom's neck, severing her rat-like head with one blow. Rherram jumped at the sudden burst of swordplay and gasped in horror when he saw what the Archer had done.

"Why did you do that?" the healer asked.

Finian shook his head and wiped his blade on what was left of Mom's robe. "The King sent us to kill her," Finian said, overstating the truth a bit. "She might have healed herself if we'd left her."

"B-but-" Rherram stammered. "I might have saved her."

"It seems to me that in war, you do not fell your enemies and then immediately heal them," Kirnoth interrupted. "That seems silly." He was somewhat surprised with the hard edge that had crept into him since he'd left his homeland to walk amongst the humans and he wasn't entirely sure that he liked it. He'd changed much in half-a-year.

"I-," Rherram seemed stunned.

"My vote is to leave this place immediately," the mage said and Ledare nodded.

"And I have no problem stopping off at your place for rest, Rherram. But I think we should still be vigilant," the Janissary explained as she cleaned her own sword and slipped it into its scabbard. "We may now be major targets for the forces of darkness, as we have managed to snarl at least one thread in their tapestry of doom."

"But what of these others?" Rherram asked as they walked back to where Ruze lay. The healer indicated the guardsmen and cultists that lay unmoving in the dark courtyard. "With some time and luck, I might be able to save them."

"I think you should consider what they may do if you do save them," Kirnoth asserted. "I vote for leaving them. If they recover, fine. If not, that's fine too."

"That is not the healer's code," the old man said, regarding Kirnoth as if the elf were slitting their throats where they lay. The elf sighed and looked to Finian and Ledare.

"Some of their cohorts ran away," he explained. "Maybe they'll come back and heal them when we leave. I think our first order of business should be to track Draeland."

"I imagine we will pick him up on the way back to the horses," Finian said with a snicker. "It should not be hard to track a big ox running through the woods. Boy, I cannot wait to see his face."

Kirnoth cut of the Archer's mocking litany with a raised hand. "Surely something in this place had an unnatural effect on his bravery and I will not fault him for that, nor will I tolerate anyone else doing so," he said, directing his comments to Finian especially. "We have all had our bad moments. He is part of our team and deserves our respect."

Finian sighed, thinking that perhaps wearing armor and swinging a sword had gone to the mage's head. Kirnoth's ego seemed to have grown quite healthy in the time since they'd been in one another's company. He seemed a far cry from the bumbling wizard who'd summoned mice rather than missiles on the Riverneck Path. Instead of telling the elf so and chancing a long argument, the ranger glanced over at some of the wooden beams that poked out of the rubble of the keep. "Ledare," he said, "help me rig up a travois from some of this timber and we'll get Ruze out of here."



As Finian had suspected, they found Draelond on the trail leading out of Othelwood. The big man was huddled beside the trail. Rherram checked him and attended to his wounds with the help of Finian's herb satchel. When he was done, he handed the bag to Finian and said, "You're nearly out of 'Old Man's Friend' and he's got the pussties too."

Draelond who was unconsciously scratching at the red bumps that had started to appear on his palms looked up at that and grimaced. "I've got what?" he groaned.



Only four of their mounts remained waiting for them in the field with the broken-down wagon. The other four horses that they had searched upon arriving on the scene were gone and one of the fleeing cultists had stolen Kirnoth's horse as well. After some deliberation they pressed on with Rherram riding Ruze's horse and dragging the Battleguard in his travois. Kirnoth rode behind Finian since they were the lightest armored.

They eased their mounts along the short trail that led from Othelwood to the caravan trail and pointed the horses southward, away from Barnacus. No one was more excited than Draelond to have the evil forest swallowed up by the night behind them.



They were a few hours' journey along Merchant's Way, roughly half-way to Strenchburg Junction when both Ledare and Kirnoth began to complain about itchy eyes. Rherram examined them closely and shook his head. "They've got 'eye crust'," he announced. "Your eye lids are going to cover over with a thick growth that hardens quickly and itches like prickly nettles."

"Great!" Ledare huffed, grinding at her right eye with her fist.

"The truly awful part is the thin, viscous film that covers the eye itself," the healer said with his most compassionate tone. "Regardless of how much crust has developed on the outside, that film will effectively cause blindness in a few hours."

"What?" Ledare exclaimed.

"B-blind?" Kirnoth whimpered.

"Just until you're healed. Draelond, might I suggest that you take the reigns of the Janissary's horse. She won't be able to guide it for very much longer," Rherram said, turning to the blistered warrior. Draelond stopped scratching at the raised pustules long enough to urge his mount forward close enough for him to grab the lead from the Janissary's mare.

"How much farther is it to your place, Rherram?" Finian asked gruffly. He looked a little disgusted with having to ride so close to Kirnoth who was beginning to weep puss.

"Not much farther," the healer announced. "We should be there by dawn."

Finian looked eastward at the darkened sky and cursed to himself. It would be a while before Orin's Shield rose from the sea; the first lightening that heralded its coming had yet to touch the horizon.


Starday, the 3rd of Wealsun, 1269 AE


It was past dawn when they arrived at Rherram's home. It had taken slightly longer due mainly to the combination of Ruze's travois and the fact that Kirnoth and Ledare were both weakening from their illness. More than once, they almost toppled sightless from their saddles.

The healer's home was located at the wagon turn at the end of a narrow cart path that climbed a tree-cloaked hill on the northern outskirts of Strenchburg Junction. His ramshackle house was made of stone and was large for one man. A vast herb garden that showed hours of careful maintenance skirted the house on three sides. A small dirt yard abutted the wagon turn in front.

Rherram dismounted quickly and pointed to a wooden door set to the far left of the yard. The universal symbol for 'healer' painted on the door - a circle of white flowers. "Quickly, now," Rherram said as he hurriedly went to release Ruze from the travois. "Bring everyone into the hospital ward and let's get to the business of saving lives."

[Realms #202] Some Time in the Country

Finian helped the healer get Ruze out of the travois and across the dirt courtyard to the door he'd indicated. A sign hung beside it that read, "Rherram Ongensleer, Healer" in every script that the Companions knew how to read and several that they didn't. The door itself was locked and the old man patted at his shirt as if he expected to find the key there. It had been taken from him by the cultists, of course, and Draelond was obliged to put his shoulder against the door to allow them entrance to the room beyond. Rherram lead them through the shattered doorway into a large hall whose ceiling was open to the rafters of the peaked roof. The floor was earthen, but a raised wooden platform ran around the room a foot off the ground. On the platform were arranged a dozen narrow beds, dressed in white linen and separated one from the other by white draperies. The room was illuminated not only by the light that streamed in through the windows, but from several cast iron chandeliers hanging from the rafters that had been enchanted with Continual Flame spells. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic.

"Finian, m'boy, I'll need your help," Rherram said as they eased Ruze down onto a nearby bed. "Get everyone undressed while I get some supplies from my lab. You'll find a gown under each pillow."

The healer disappeared through a side door that led into the rest of the house leaving the Companions alone in the infirmary. Finian sighed as he looked around and Ledare asked, "Are you sure this man will be able to help us, Finian? What do you know of him?" Draelond was leading her blindly toward a bed and she stumbled as she reached the raised platform.

"He helped me when I was last in Strenchburg Junction. He didn't have to, but he did," the Archer said. "I trust him more than some people we've been forced to rely on since this all began. And he IS a competent healer."

Ledare's armor creaked and clanked as she eased herself down onto one of the beds. She let out an exhausted sigh as she sat there, her eyes crusted with yellow-brown. She touched them lightly with her fingertips and her mouth twitched in revulsion and worry. "I guess that we have little choice in any case," she said weakly. "We're not in a position to turn down whatever help we can get."



As it turned out, Rherram wasn't just a competent healer, he was an excellent healer. After determining that Finian hadn't succumbed to anything contagious, Rherram enlisted the Archer to assist him with the others. It was a humbling experience for the half-elf since the old man was easily twice as skilled at healing as he was. Rherram's skill level rivalled Finian's mother, Caralie's and the Archer found himself relegated to mixing herbs and wrapping bandages. Still, with his help, Rherram was quickly able to examine and treat each of the Companions.

The healer determined that Ledare and Kirnoth, like Ruze, had contracted pudding lung. And they and Draelond had all been infected with skin ripple through the diseased wounds dealt to them by the mendicant. Draelond's and Ruze's cases of bubbling pussties weren't life-threatening, although the puss-filled blisters that were spreading over their flesh were disgusting in the extreme. Ledare's infection of eye crust was minor, the healer announced; her sight would likely return by the next morning. Kirnoth's however, had firmly taken ahold of the elf and would require greater convalescence to cure.

By the time that Orin's Shield had begun to dip toward the western horizon, Rherram had treated everyone as well as he could. Draelond and Ruze were slathered in ointment and wrapped in bandages, looking a good deal like greasy mummies. Ledare and Kirnoth had twin poultices strapped over each eye with a blindfold. Rherram and Finian had erected cloth tents over Ruze, Ledare and Kirnoth's beds. A small charcoal-burning stove boiled water in a kettle set beside each bed, releasing medicated steam into their afflicted lungs.

"Come, Finian," Rherram suggested. "Let them get some rest. They need time to heal and we need to eat something."

Finian nodded reluctantly and surveyed the scene in the infirmary with concern. The baby, who lay in a bed far from the diseased patients, still hadn't moved or made a sound.



"Did the thieves hang after I left?" Finian asked suddenly. He and Rherram had eaten a cold meal of dried fruit and crushed barley cereal and while the healer gathered up the bowls, Finian had been leaning back, deep in thought. He now regarded Rherram expectantly.

"You mean Councilman Ozmea and his sister," the old man said with a nod. "The Baron means what he says when he passes sentence, m'boy. I think what's left of Wearonna's still hanging from a tree near the caravanserai. I don't get out that way very often."

"Have there been any other incidences in town?" the Archer asked, picking absently at his teeth with his thumbnail. Rherram chuckled at the question.

"No, m'boy!" he said. "Most all of the troublemakers in the Junction come and go with the caravans. And seeing a woman's corpse hanging in irons right outside your front door tends to give a body pause. No, the Baron knows a good deterrent when he sees one."

Finain nodded grimly. "I'm glad justice was served," he said.

"Yes," the old man agreed without much conviction and lowered himself back into his chair. "Now, before we get some rest ourselves, why don't you tell me what possessed you to die your hair?"



Sunday, the 4th of Wealsun, 1269 AE


The patients were awakened in the morning by the baby's squeals. Those who could see spotted a plump woman seated across the room nursing the infant. She looked up, regarding them with a warm smile as she shifted the child from one ponderous breast to the other. Rherram entered then, and conferred briefly with the woman before coming to check on his patients. "Feeling better, I hope," he said as he began to check bandages.

Most of them were feeling a good deal better. All save Kirnoth felt ready to get out of bed; their wounds had healed considerably under Rherram's care. The healer wouldn't allow Ruze or Ledare to leave their beds, however, lest they interrupt the pudding lung steam treatment. The Janissary thought that might be just as well since she still felt somewhat weakened by the eye crust infection. After Rherram had snipped away her blindfold and wiped her eyes clear of accumulated muck Ledare was relieved to have her vision return in full.

Kirnoth had continued to deteriorate through the night, however and was too weak to even lift his head by the time Rherram made his rounds. "Don't worry, good sir elf," the healer assured him as he changed the poultices on his eyes. "We'll have you cured today. I'm confident that you'll turn the corner by sundown."

Finian spent most of the day discussing the finer points of herbalism with Rherram. Not surprisingly, the Archer was particularly concerned about healing both the damage caused by the viper-wolf venom and that done to his mangled left ear. Healing the damage to the Archer's reflexes wrought by the viper-wolves was beyond Rherram's abilities, but he had heard of magic that might be able to do so. It was called the 'Grove of Renewal' and was considered a sacred site by the Druids of Dridanis. Unfortunately, Rherram had no idea how to find the Grove; his only suggestion was to seek out the Cult of Dridanis near the Freehold of Redwood.

"As for your ear...," Rherram muttered, holding Finian's chin and examining the scar tissue critically. "I believe I have some elf hazel in the lab. It won't regrow the ear, but it'll clear up the scar tissue so it doesn't look quite so nasty. What'd you use on it? Woundwort?" Finian nodded and Rherram wagged a finger at him. "You're stuck in the old way of doing things, m'boy. Follow me to my lab and I'll show you some new medicines that I've learned to make."



Moonsday, the 5th of Wealsun, 1269 AE


The group continued to heal and the wetnurse, Jisselleen, continued to tend to the child, who had begun to act - and cry - like a normal, two-day-old infant. Ruze had completely shaken the bubbling pussties and Rherram predicted that even the reddish bumps that remained would likely be gone by Godsday. Draelond's case persisted, but it too had dramatically diminished when the healer checked beneath his bandages; his prognosis for recovery lagged a day behind the Battleguard's. None of them had yet shaken the wet breathing and bubbling cough associated with pudding lung, although, again, Ruze seemed to be doing better than the others. Kirnoth's eye crust lingered, although Rherram assured him that he was making regular progress. He remained blind and too weak to rise from his bed.

Finian spent the morning shooting rats that had been eating some of Rherram's valuable herbs. The rest of the day he scoured the surrounding countryside, gathering mushrooms and medicinal plants, and being careful to avoid the town and its inhabitants.



Godsday, the 6th of Wealsun, 1269 AE


Ruze had returned nearly to full health. Some of his injuries hadn't fully healed, but he'd completely recovered from his bought of pudding lung. Draelond was close behind him; the pussties had dried up, but his skin was still pocked by numerous red welts where the blisters had been. His wounds were all but a bad memory. Ledare continued to suffer from phlegmy coughing fits despite Rherram's medicinal steam treatments. Her constitution, weakened so long ago by spider venom, was struggling to fight off the illness and she and Kirnoth remained on the same recovery path. Rherram thought that it might be cleared up by Earthday. The elf's strength continued to slowly return and he felt well enough to sit up and engage in conversation with the others.

They all wondered and debated whether or not they'd put an end to the Aphyx threat entirely or merely stopped one part of a much larger scheme.



Waterday, the 7th of Wealsun, 1269 AE


Ruze, Draelond and Finian were all fully healed. Draelond's welts had almost completely faded, leaving him, if not handsome, at least no worse-looking than he had been. Ledare and Kirnoth's chests continued to rattle with every breath, but their coughing had eased up considerably. Rherram removed the elf's blindfold and cleared away his eyes with a clean rag, eliciting a gasp of joy from Kirnoth. At last, he could see once more. He still felt weak, but he could now sit up in bed and read some of Rherram's books between steam treatments.

With Kirnoth's returned sight, the group's spirits were considerably boosted, and there was laughter in the infirmary for the first time since their arrival. After another rat hunt, Finian made another foray into the wilderness in search of herbs to replenish some of Rherram's supplies.



Earthday, the 8th of Wealsun, 1269 AE


Rherram pronounced both Ledare and Kirnoth free of pudding lung and he dismantled the tents and medicinal kettles. Everyone's wounds had fully healed thanks to Rherram's handiwork, and Kirnoth's strength had very nearly returned to normal. "By tomorrow at the latest," the healer assured them.

"Then that's when we'll head back to Barnacus," Ledare said, stretching. "We've imposed on your kindness for too long as it is."

"At last," Finian sighed after Rherram had left them. "I'm worried about Grey House."

"About Gwaedry, you mean," Ledare jibed and the Archer's face grew red.

"Her too," he admitted.

The four Companions who were able spent a good portion of the afternoon sparring with one another in Rherram's dirt front yard. They tried new combat maneuvers that they were hoping to eventually master and generally worked the kinks out of limbs that had been stuck in bed for too long. For his part, Kirnoth remained inside, reading "A Treatise on Distillation and Its Usefulness in Modern Alchemy". He didn't feel much like swinging a sword, but he was quite pleased to note that his access to the Weave had not only returned, but it seemed to be greatly increased as well. He concentrated on the energy patterns and felt confident that he'd be able to produce some new magical effects with a little practice. In all, it was a glorious afternoon, and they had all worked up a considerable appetite by the time Orin's Shield dipped into the hills to the west.



It was at dinner that Rherram brought up the subject of recompense for his services. "For the most part, I collect my herbs myself," the healer explained over a spicy potato and leek soup. "I enjoy the fresh air and I think it helps keeps me young. Mind you, Finian has helped me immensely these last few days collecting herbs for me while I tended to you and the baby. But, some of the herbs that I used to heal you all are exceedingly rare and can't be found around these parts."

He paused, blowing on a spoonful of soup.

"I had wondered if you all would mind collecting a few medicinal plants that will be difficult for me to replace without your aid?" He forced his eyes up and looked at them as if embarrassed by his request. "I'm sorry to surprise you with this at the last minute, but there didn't ever seem to be a good time to ask. And now... with you all preparing to leave..."

"We have the baby...," Kirnoth began, but Rherram cleared his throat to interrupt.

"Jisselleen and I will be happy to look after the child until you return. That is, if you decide to undertake the task for me, of course," the healer said. "I don't expect you to commit to anything right now. I'm sure that you'll want to discuss this amongst yourselves. If you are willing, we can go over the details in the morning."



"I don't know about hunting for herbs, but what about leaving the baby with Rherram?" Ledare asked. "We are not in a position to care for an infant. Who's going to nurse her? Ruze?!"

"Hey!" Ruze chuckled, clutching his man breasts in mock indignation. They all shared a laugh but Ledare wasn't letting her point drop so easily.

"Taking the baby with us seems like it would be bringing her closer to danger," she explained. "Leaving her behind - if we could find a way to ensure her safety and anonymity - would be best, I think."

They discussed the baby and their future plans at length, but hadn't yet reached a decision by the time that they bedded down for the night. Sometime later, they were awakened by what sounded like Kirnoth screaming. It was full dark in the infirmary - the Continual Flame chandelier had been capped off so that they could sleep more easily- but the white disk of Great Celune was visible through the window and she filled the room with her silvery radiance. It took longer for Draelond's and Ruze's eyes to adjust to the near darkness, but both Ledare and Finian saw immediately the horror that hunched beside the faerie elf's bed. A skaven stood in the moonlight, its fur seeming to blaze like silver fire. It regarded them with evil red eyes and hissed menacingly, its clawed hands balled up at its chest.

Rogue's Gallery Updates

I've updated most of the characters in the Rogue's Gallery thread to reflect their recent leveling.

You can find them here.

When I get the final skill point allotment from Ruze's player, I'll update him as well and we'll be all up-to-date.

Look for an actual story update this Sunday.

[Realms #203] I, Wererat

For an instant it hunched there in the moonlight, wringing its long-nailed hands over and over again. Then it shrieked and burst into motion, moving more quickly than seemed possible. It darted downward, seeming to almost flow bonelessly under the bed. They could hear its nails scrabbling on the wooden floorboards as it moved.

Ruze jumped out of bed, fumbling in the dark for his scimitars.

"Ruze!" Finian shouted as he drew his bola out from beneath his narrow bed. "Go check on the baby! This creature may be a distraction!"

Ledare sat up and grabbed her crossbow from its holster. Nearby, Draelond was making a great deal of noise as he tried to blindly locate and unsheathe Ravager. "Where is it?" the man growled. "I can't see where it went!"

Ruze's feet thudding against the floor as he rushed out of the room, drowned out any sounds that the wererat might have been making. For a moment, no one was sure where the creature had gotten to. The door creaked open then, letting more light into the infirmary. Draelond had broken it upon their arrival and it hadn't yet been repaired. The skaven slithered out through the crack and Finian shouted, "There!" He let his bola fly, but the device thudded ineffectually against the door and forced it closed.

Ledare tried to squeeze off a shot at the creature, but her quarrel bit into the wood of the now-closed door. "Dammit!" she hissed in the shadows.

The sound of breaking wood exploded in the darkness to the Janissary's right as Draelond tried to negotiate his way to the door. His human eyesight was a good deal less keen than either Finian's or Ledare's and he took a blind step off the raised wooden platform on which all of the beds were situated. He smashed down onto a small table as he fell, reducing it to kindling in an instant. Finian drew his longsword then, bathing the room in pale, bluish light and revealing a blinking Draelond sprawled on the earthen floor. The Archer vaulted down from the platform and moved toward the door.

"Get up!" Finian growled. "We can't let it get away!" He threw open the door, scooping up his bola as he did so.

Great Celune was bathing the dirt courtyard in silver light. To the Archer's eyes it was nearly as bright as day, but he could see no immediate sign of the skaven. Grimacing in frustration, he bent down and examined the ground.

"Do you see anything?" Draelond asked from the doorway.

"It went that way," Finian said without looking up. He pointed across the dirt lawn toward the stable, and even as he did so, they heard the horses inside whinnying in panic. He broke into a trot, urging, "Come on!"

"What about Kirnoth?" Ledare asked. She stepped into the doorway, strapping on her longsword as Draelond ran after the ranger. They looked like two ghosts, dressed as they were in white gowns.

"I think three of us could handle the wererat!" Finian shouted back.

"That's not what I meant," Ledare muttered, sparing one look at the sorcerer's empty bed. She shook her head and hefted her six-shooter as she went to follow them, barefoot toward the stable.



"What is it?" Rherram asked. He held a candle in one hand and was rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the other. "What's going on?"

"There's a skaven in the infirmary," Ruze told him with remarkable calm. "Where is the baby?"

"Right over here," the healer said fumbling toward a nearby door. "She sleeps in Jisselleen's room, but I'm sure she's just fine." He threw open the door and the light from his candle looked in on a narrow room with no windows. An empty bassinet stood against one wall and Jisselleen sat cross-legged on her bed, nursing the tiny infant. The wet nurse raised a hand to shield her eyes from the candlelight.

"What's the matter?" the woman asked. "Is everything alright?"

"No," the Battleguard told her before turning to Rherram. "Stay in here with her and bolt the door. I'm going back to help the others, but there may be more of the creatures about."

Rherram nodded and as Ruze headed back toward the infirmary he heard Jisselleen fearfully ask, "What creatures?"



"Get ready," Finian said and Draelond raised Ravager in a two-handed grip. They were paused outside of the stable and they could plainly hear the fearful cries of the horses within. The door stood slightly ajar, but there was no light within. Ledare came up behind them just as the Archer opened the door. She had her crossbow ready.

Both Ledare and Finian could instantly see that the stable was in chaos. Rherram's stable wasn't built to house more than two animals for any length of time, but they had been forced to stable four of them here since Starday. Finian had taken them out every day for exercise and brushed them every night before closing them in. But that didn't change the fact that they were jammed into too small a space and they were now panicked. All four were tethered to a central rail that ran the length of the small barn, and they were rearing up against the restraints and lashing at the air with their steel-shod hooves. It was only a matter of time before they started to do grievous injury to one another in their madness.

There was no sign of the skaven and Finian took a step inside with Draelond and Ledare at his back. The ranger's trained senses could almost smell the fear that was pouring off of the animals. As the light from his longsword illuminated the interior of the stable, he could at last see what it was that had spooked the horses. The rafters above their heads were crowded with dozens of hungry rats. Their eyes glimmered unnaturally in the magical light.

Before Finian could tell the others what he had seen, the skaven dropped down from above the door and drove him to the ground beneath its silver-haired bulk.



The infirmary was empty, and the door to the front yard stood open, giving Ruze just enough light to see by. He could hear the frightened neighing of their horses coming from outside and spared only a moment to ready his twin scimitars. He raced along past the foot of the beds, heading for the door, but something caused him to stop beside Kirnoth's empty bed. A pile of torn white fabric lay on the floor beside the bed; it was quivering. The fabric looked like one of the hospital gowns they all wore to bed, but it had been badly ripped. Ruze reached out a scimitar and flicked aside the white shreds, revealing what lay beneath.

It was Gordigan, and the duckbunny did not look well. In fact, it looked frightened out of its wits. It just lay on its side staring glassy-eyed and shaking with horror.

Final Rogue's Gallery Update

I've updated the last of the characters in the Rogue's Gallery thread that enjoyed a recent leveling. Ruze is up in all his glory.

You can find them here.

Look for an actual story update as always this Sunday.

[Realms #204] Demon Rats

Finian felt the thing's hot breath on his neck and heard its teeth snap shut with a loud clack a hand width from his left ear. Then the Archer was in motion, spinning himself onto his back and drawing his knees up before kicking the skaven off of himself. It tumbled into the stable and recovered its footing almost instantly while Finian was still scrambling backward toward the door. Draelond's hands latched onto the ranger's nightgown and dragged him out into the yard. Ledare slammed her shoulder against the stable door and leaned heavily against it. A moment later, the skaven thudded against the other side, nearly sending Ledare to her knees. Draelond backed up against the door and braced himself, adding considerable bulk to the barricade.

"I - I think that wererat is Kirnoth," Finian sputtered as he got unsteadily to his feet. The rush of adrenalin was still coursing through him.

"What?" Draelond asked, his face screwed up in disbelief.

"I believe that Kirnoth is now a wererat because he was very badly hurt by Mom Bromson," the Archer explained. "And look at Great Celune; it's a full moon that triggers the change, isn't it?"

"I hadn't thought of that," the man said as the skaven thudded against the stable door. The horses were absolutely crazed within - shrieking with fear or pain.

"But would this disease change Kirnoth so radically that he would attack us like this?" Ledare asked, her face gone very pale in the moonlight. "Maybe this creature is some other skaven who is here to help bring in the 'new recruit'. Maybe Kirnoth is terrified and is hiding somewhere."

"Maybe," Finian said. "But I really have a strong hunch that this is Kirnoth. I hate to kill him, so I perhaps think we should let him escape and track him, hoping he comes back in the morning."

"Whether it's Kirnoth or not, we need to prevent him from hurting anyone else," Ledare said and raised her hand crossbow to her shoulder. "I say we aim to injure or subdue only."

Draelond nodded. "I think subdual is the key here," he said. "I don't want to go off killing what appears to be an evil wererat to find out later that I slew Kirnoth." With some solemnity he thrust Ravager point-first into the ground beside the stable door. "I don't know a lot about wererats, but I know that they can change form. If we could keep this one in our custody until we can see what alternative form it takes, it could make our decision easier."

"Okay," Finian said. "We'll open the door and when it comes out, I'll attempt to subdue it with the bola, and attack with the flat of my blade if it keeps coming after me."

"I should be able to pin the creature without much trouble," Draelond said and Ledare nodded.

"I'll only shoot it if I have to in order to prevent it from hurting either of you," she said as she stepped away from the door and moved off to the side where she'd have a clear shot. "And then only to wound, not to kill."

"Ready?" Draelond asked and then threw open the stable door.



Ruze placed his scimitars on Kirnoth's bed and knelt down, gingerly scooping up the elf's familiar. He gave the duckbunny a little shake, but Gordigan showed no signs of snapping out of his fugue. The cleric scowled and set the small black animal on the bed and picked up his weapons again. With his jaw set, he moved toward the door and stepped out into the yard just in time to see a ravening ball of silver fur explode out through the stable door. The Battleguard started to run.



The wererat was incredibly fast. No sooner had the Draelond opened the door than the thing was there, its eyes gleaming red in the darkness and spittle drooling from its snapping jaws. It came at the man before he could even fully register that it was there and its jaws clamped down over his left shoulder, drawing blood. Finian let loose his bola, but narrowly missed the target. Ledare carefully lined up her shot and would have landed a bolt into the wererat but at the last moment, she pulled up to avoid hitting Draelond. The quarrel thudded into the side of the stable.

Draelond's wound was minimal, and he focused passed the pain to the matter at hand. He grabbed the rat man around the throat with both hands, easily avoiding its snapping jaws. It wasn't really very strong despite all its ferocity and it was a simple matter for the big man to grapple the bipedal rodent. It wriggled around in his grasp and pawed at him with both its hands and feet, but so far was unable to break free. "Hurry!" Draelond grunted as he struggled with the writhing man rat. "I can't hold it all night! We'll need to tie it up with something!"

Finian ducked forward and picked up his bola. He was coming toward Draelond when three horses burst out of the stable at full speed. The horses were all squealing in pain, their backs and flanks dark with biting rats and streaked with their own blood. The Archer's uncanny reflexes allowed him to jump back, avoiding the stampeding animals, but Draelond wasn't so lucky. The first animal grazed a hoof against his head, making him lose his grip on the skaven. The wererat scurried away, dancing beneath the second animal's hooves. Moment's later, the third horse stepped squarely on the lycanthrope's right elbow, crunching the bone with a sickening sound. One of the same horse's rear hooves clipped Draelond in the left forearm, but miraculously, his injuries were minor.

As the animals thundered off madly down the road, the skaven got to its feet and hissed. As they watched, its pulverized elbow snapped back into its proper shape.

Finian raised his bola, determined to bring the creature down. Even as he let the bola fly and watched the two balls wrap snuggly around the skaven's torso, pinning its arms and sending the creature to its back, the world around him exploded in an arcing burst of chaos. A crackling web of magical energy arced between the four Companions who remained in front of the stable. The energy seemed to have no effect on Finian whatsoever, but the others twitched and jerked as if they were struck by lightning. When the arcing stopped a moment later, both Ruze and Ledare were visibly staggered. Smoke rose from their hair and blood ran freely from their ears and noses. Draelond, who had been weakened already by the skaven and the horses, fell unmoving to the earth.

Finian's eyes darted around to find the source of this magical assault and his bowels turned to ice as he saw the dozens of glittering red rat eyes gathered in the darkness of the stable. They were piling atop one another into a squirming mound of furry bodies. As one they began to chitter and squeak, and somehow the unnerving chorus became a single unified voice that twittered a warbled as it spoke.

"This one is ours," it said. "Leave him to us and you may live. Persist and your lives are forfeit."

[Realms #205] Demon Rats II

"Ruze!" Finian cried. "Heal Draelond! We need his sword!"

"Fools!" the rats' weirdly modulated voice screeched and an aimless sense of despair clutched at the group's guts as unknown magic was invoked.

Ruze looked first at the struggling wererat and then at the unmoving Draelond. His vision swam and he shook his head in order to get his senses under control. "My Queen, bathe me in your protective light!" he prayed, touching his right fist to his chest. Moonlight seemed to play across his skin.

Ledare raised her crossbow and squeezed off a shot at the rat pile. The bolt flew into the mass and disappeared beneath the squirming rat bodies. It seemed to have no effect whatsoever and a sense of fearful impotence began to creep into the Janissary's heart.

Finian took a step back and raised his head to the night sky. "Brogine! Emperor of Beasts!" he bellowed at the stars. "I call upon you to send me your aid!" His cry was echoed by a shriek from above and a hawk dove out of the sky toward the rats. It pulled up at the last moment and scratched outward with its claws, but missed.

"You, beastmaster!" the rats cooed, fixing Finian with dozens of tiny red eyes. The eyes began to fill the Archer's field of vision. "Free the wererat!" The half-elf felt the oily effects of evil magic wash over him and for an instant, the idea of cutting the bola thongs seemed like a perfectly fine one. His found himself half-turned with his sword ready to sever the bonds before he was able to shake off the power of the charm.

The rats hissed when they saw him resist their influence. It didn't matter, however; the skaven had changed shape again. This time it became a large three foot long rat with silver fur and it wriggled free of the bola without any trouble.

"Touch Ledare with thy healing grace, oh Queen!" Ruze prayed and brushed his hand against the Janissary's back. She felt the power of divine healing sweep through her, undoing some of the hurt that the rats' magic had wrought. She was still a long way from good health, but her aches and pains subsided a bit. Grimly, she raised her hand crossbow and fired into the mass of rodents. Again her shot flew true, but again it seemed to have absolutely no effect.

Finian brought his sword to bear on the retreating wererat. It had a good fifteen feet head start on him, but he closed it to five in a matter of seconds. He was close, but the unnatural creature had made it to the slope along the edge of Rherram's property and it slipped off into the high grass along the verge. The Archer had no desire to separate from the others, and he turned back in time to see the hawk he had summoned swoop down again from the dark sky. It dove in again at the rats and this time its claws sank into the body of one of the creatures comprising the squirming pile. As one, the rats swarmed upward, their tiny fangs ripping the hawk to shreds in an instant. The animal disappeared in a puff of smoke and feathers as its spirit returned to the ether from which the ranger had called it.

Ruze knelt beside Draelond's unmoving body and laid a hand on either side of the man's bleeding head. "Let not this man go too early to Myrkul's hall," he said and channelled just enough of Shaharizod's power into his fallen companion to stop his bleeding.

Ledare lined up another shot - this time at one of the rats along the edge of the main mass - and fired. The arrow struck home, piercing the rodent's side with a satisfying THWOK! But an instant later, the creature flexed its body and expelled the shaft without injury. "Dear gods," the Janissary muttered as fear once more gripped her heart. "Weapons don't hurt it."

Finian came charging back in, his longsword flashing and Ledare stood up quickly and shouted, "Weapons don't hurt it!!" The Archer skidded to a stop a few feet from the mass of rats, looking very confused.

"Weapons don't hurt us," the rats said as they began to move away toward the slope at the side of Rherram's property. The wriggling carpet of rodents moved passed Finian as they went and the Archer felt the slippery sensation of dark forces probing his mind. "Lead them away, beastmaster," the rats whispered as they passed. "Tell them you did not see which way the wererat went."

That was a good idea, the Archer thought. Why should he endanger everyone by pointing out where the skaven went, anyway? It made perfect sense, really. Or at least it did for a few short moments before his own will reasserted itself and he shook off the charm effects for a second time.

"If we meet again, we will feast on your rotting corpse," the rats hissed as they swarmed off into the tall grass.

Ruze stood and pointed one of his scimitars in the rats' direction. "My Queen, lend me your-" he began but Ledare stilled him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Let it go," she groaned. Her voice sounded very small and very tired. "We're in no shape to deal with such a thing. It will be our undoing."

Finian trotted back toward them and his low-light vision picked out the scene of carnage inside the stable. One of the horses - and at this point, it was impossible to tell which one - had been killed. Its skeletonized carcass lay within, glistening redly in the moonlight. Its reins were still tethered to the center rail.

"Brogine, help us," the ranger said. "What are we dealing with?"

[Realms #206] On the Trail

"Dear gods!" Rherram sputtered as he smeared a dollop of healing salve into the bite wound on Draelond's shoulder. The sticky green substance started to work immediately, knitting the edges of the bite closed. "You lot manage to undo in minutes what it took me a week to accomplish!"

"It was hardly our idea," Ruze muttered and Rherram snorted in reply.

The baby was crying and Jisselleen stood in the corner of the infirmary rocking the child in her arms. The wetnurse looked very frightened, her normally plump and ruddy face seeming pale and drawn. "Are those... creatures gone?" she asked timidly.

"For the moment," Ledare replied. "Why don't you take the baby back to bed? There's nothing you can do here."

Jisselleen shook her head, her thick braids lashing the air. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay with everyone else for the time being," she said and Ledare couldn't blame her. Skaven and invulnerable rat piles weren't exactly things that a wetnurse had to deal with in the normal course of things.

"I found it!" Finian shouted from across the room. He stood up from their packs with the bundle of herbs the king had given them. He rushed over to Rherram, unwrapping the package as he went. The healer took one look at the belladonna and shook his head.

"It's too old, m'boy. If we're going to poison your friend we should do it with fresh poison, don't you think?" he grumbled and cocked a salve-covered hand over his shoulder. "I've got some in my lab. Go fetch it and bring me the small mortar and pestle as well."



The belladonna didn't kill Draelond -thanks in no small part to Rherram's expert dosing - so lycanthropy wasn't a concern. His injuries were greater than Rherram's salve could quickly heal however, and Ruze was obliged to use his divine gifts to mend himself, Draelond and Ledare. None of them were feeling in perfect health, but they felt a good deal better than they had.

"I can use the healing salve again tomorrow," Rherram explained. "If you would just wait until then before rushing off."

Ledare shook her head as she strapped on her breastplate. "I am afraid that if we wait too long, the trail will be cold," she told him. More concern crept into her voice as she added, "Or worse, it will be a trail of dozens of tiny rat feet."

"Shall I track, find the lair and come back?" the Archer asked. "I'm uninjured, but I hate to think what would happen if they caught me."

"I may slow you down," Ledare said, "but I'm going with you. It's too dangerous for you to go alone."

"I think we should all go," Ruze said as he hefted his scale mail.

"I agree," Draelond admitted. "But it doesn't seem like any of our weapons are doing much of anything to that rat pile; we need another plan."

"He's right," Ledare said, eyeing the mottled blade of her silver-iron longsword skeptically. "Do we have ANY defenses against the rats? Our special silver weapons seem to have no effect. Any other thoughts? Fire, perhaps?"

"Bringing something to start a fire is a great idea," Finian nodded. "Rherram do you have any oil?"

"I do, but I also think I can do you one better," he said wagging a finger in the air as he started to turn. "Wait one moment! I'll just run to my lab!"



Rherram supplied them with several alchemical items from his stockpiles: 4 flasks of alchemist's fire, 2 thunderstones, 2 flash pellets, a smokestick, and a tanglefoot bag. "I sell these little goodies to most of the peddlers who come through the Junction. They're very popular with those adventurer-types. Being a healer doesn't always put food on the table, m'boy," Rherram explained to Finian as he doled out the supplies. "Folk just aren't happy with my methods when they can visit some local shrine and get divine healing much faster. These little goodies are my real bread-and-butter."

So laden, they set out down the long slope at the edge of Rherram's property. Neither the skaven nor the strange rat colony was making any attempt to conceal its path, so Finian had little trouble following the trail.

"At least there is a full moon," the ranger said as he crouched down to examine the tracks.

"Don't forget, that full moon is the reason we're in this state," Draelond quipped.

The skaven's trail meandered aimlessly to and fro across the field moving generally south and westward. The path lead generally away from the town of Strenchburg Junction - a fact for which everyone was thankful - and into a series of wooded hills to the west of the settlement. The pursuing rats, moved unerringly toward the same hills, on an angle that intercepted the skaven's trail just inside a copse of trees some 500 feet from the westward caravan trail, Longway. Apparently, the rodents weren't the only group moving abroad under the moonlight.

Inside the small cluster of trees was a campsite that had been recently abandoned. Although no smoke rose from the firepit, the ashes still radiated heat. An odd silence hung over the entire area, and it appeared that those who had camped here left in a hurry. Finian was about to creep forward into the clearing when a tall, cloaked figure detached itself from the shadows at the southern edge of the campsite and knelt down to look at something on the ground. The newcomer didn't give any indication that he had seen the Companions.

Something on the opposite side of the clearing caught both Ledare's and Finian's attention. A net hastily concealed with dead leaves and branches had been strung amidst the trees there and as soon as they caught sight of it, the net fell aside and several bloated, shambling creatures moved forward into the moonlight. They were leaking black ooze from wounds and other holes all over their swollen bodies. Flies buzzed around them and worms were crawling over their bodies, whose skin has been stretched nearly to its limit.

They were clearly undead, and they were moving to attack the unsuspecting stranger.