The Romance of Arasil

Friday, July 29 – THEN

Einar​

It wasn’t until later the next day that Lord Sannis made an appearance in town. He, along with a good portion of his remaining guardsmen, took a tour of Traveler’s Rest to make an assessment of the attack’s damage. Most of the fire damage was found along the road that led to the Archonian Shrine near the town’s center. There was also the damage to the shrine itself to consider; the broken roof, a shattered window, and a bar to secure the doors all required the reeve’s attention.

The Companions were rightfully late to rise. Ilvander had immediately set out to help the townsfolk with their recovery from the night’s attack. Meanwhile, Vech sat down to share breakfast with Einar, Erevan, Jaxx, and Mynn at the Lion’s Yawn.

Vech recounted the main thrust of their time in the area including the fact that a coven of hags had given Ilvander and him information about an ancient place they called the Broken Fane, where “the key” could be found.

Einar, a Tetranic Priest from the Raltt, sat there patiently listening to the warlock’s rambling tale as he played with his food. “What is this key you seek? What does it open?”

Vech looked at him blankly and shook his head. “We really don’t know.” He frowned then added after a moment, “But it seems to be important.”

“How can you be sure?” Jaxx asked.

“The Brakari are after it. Z’volen, the ghoul I spoke of, was – or is – after it, and Ilvander said he thinks the gnoll that was riding the wyvern is after it,” the warlock reasoned. “Everybody seems to want this key and we know where it is.”

“Only you don’t know what it is for,” Erevan added.

Vech could only nod.

“We’ll do it!” Mynn declared as he slapped the breakfast table hard enough to cause his plate to jump.

“What?” Einar said.

“We will?” Jaxx added.

“We’ll be going with them, of course,” the dwarf said matter-of-factly. “The ancestors demand it! It’s why they called me – us – here!”

“I thought we were here to deal with the gnolls,” Erevan said.

“It’s all related!” Mynn declared.

“You know this how exactly?” the elf asked.

“Faith! I know because I have faith!”

Einar knew better than to argue with Mynn about what the ancestors did and did not want. “If you’re sure.”

The dwarf slapped the table once and nodded once with enthusiasm.

It’s hard to argue with that logic. Einar shrugged and then nodded, “So be it.”

~

Vech caught up with Ilvander later that evening and let them know that he had recruited the four.

“You what?” Ilvander asked astonished. “Haven’t we given enough?”

Vech frowned. This wasn’t like the monk at all. He had always been the most optimistic of their group, but the death of his friends had hurt him deeply.

“Ilvander…” Vech started.

“No!” Ilvander snapped. “We will send word to the Chantry that the mission is lost,” he said as he started to leave.

“She’d want us to finish it,” the warlock said bringing the monk to a halt.

Ilvander turned and looked at the warlock, anger in his eyes. He took one step forward, then stopped. He sighed. “You’re right. She would at that.” He wiped a tear from his cheek. “I’m not sure though. We’ve lost so many and now that thing is out there…Nazzak.”

“Umm, maybe it would be better not to say its name,” Vech said. “There’s power in such things.”

“We’ve been summoned to meet with Lord Sannis in the morning,” the monk said. “I need to stop by the shrine after that for a few minutes and then we can go.”

Saturday, July 30 – THEN

Ilvander​

The next morning, Lord Sannis extended his thanks to Ilvander and Vech for coming to the assistance of Traveler’s Rest…and he thanked the Brakari who had been summoned as well. He asked how their mission was going and if the source of the hauntings had been undone or at least uncovered.

Ilvander was hesitant to mention the graveknight in front of the Brakari, so he lied and said that the other four had died from their battle with the beast troubling Bramborough instead. The reeve seemed more concerned about the mission than sad at hearing of their loss, but offered an apology all the same. When asked if their mission was failed, the monk assured him that he and Vech, along with some others that fought off the gnolls during the attack, would be pressing onward.

With that they was dismissed from the manor.

As they were leaving, a scullery maid approached Ilvander.

“Master Ilvander,” she said as she curtsied.

“It’s just Ilvander,” he replied. “What can I do for you?”

“There is one – a visitor from the Vastness – who wishes to speak with you,” she said.

The monk looked around, “An elf?”

“Aye.”

“Where is he?”

“She, m’lord," she said. "And she’s awaiting you at the Bird ’n the Bucket Inn at the crossroads north of town."

“How do you know this?” Ilvander asked.

“Word was passed to me from one I trust. She asked that you tell nobody here within the manor.”

The monk frowned. “Very well. Thank you for the message.”

~

Ilvander entered the shrine where a small number of the townsfolk were making offerings. Pryor Valmay was in attendance. The monk patiently waited for the parishioners to finish and leave, leaving him alone with the pryor.

Valmay smiled. “Good morning,” he started but came up short as the monk bore down on him.

“How dare you?!” Ilvander said with a sneer.

“Wha?” Valmay took a step back and half raised his arms in defense.

“How dare you close your doors when the town was in need?!” The monk was furious. “Your flock, the very people you are charged to care for – both minds and bodies – your flock! Our flock!”

“I…I…” the old man was at a loss for words.

“It was one thing to see you treat Charity so poorly, which I could almost forgive given her heritage,” Ilvander grasped the man’s collar. “But this?” He pointed at the doors where you could still make out the bloodstains. “This? This cannot be washed away so easily.”

Valmay shook the monk’s grip off him with the back of an arm. “It is not your place – initiate – to forgive me! I am your superior!” The pryor was fuming and his face was turning red.

“Your superiors at the Chantry will learn of this, Valmay.” Ilvander leaned in close. “Mark my words, pryor.” He then turned on a heel and strode out.

Monday, August 1 – THEN

Jaxx​

The Bird ‘n the Bucket Inn sat at a crossroads that connected the villages of Noor’s Meadow, Bramborough, and Ascot, north of Traveler’s Rest. The inn was sizeable, with three floors in total, plus a large basement. It had a small palisade around it that stood about ten feet in height, and the inn itself looked to be reinforced. A single door of heavy oak, banded in iron, opened into a large, warm common room.

The Companions had arrived late in the afternoon and secured rooms for themselves. They asked around for any visiting Aldurfolk, but none had been seen.

Jaxx stopped the serving girl as she refilled their drinks. “Excuse me, but we couldn’t help but noticing that this inn is somewhat fortified. Any particular reason why?”

“There were some orc attacks three summers past, m’lord,” she answered. “The villages asked for more guards to protect them. Instead, the build the fence and reinforced the inn to withstand an attack.”

“But the villages are miles from here,” Jaxx said.

The girl nodded.

“How are they expected to get here during an attack?” the warrior went on.

“Outrun the orcs, I think,” the girls offered with a shrug.

“Outrun orcs?!” Mynn huffed.

Erevan shook his head, “There is no outrunning an orc once it has sight on you,”

Einar looked about the room and shook his head. “Tis a fine inn, that’s for sure, but I don’t think you could house the people of three villages here.”

The girl nodded sadly and continued pouring the drinks.

Vech sighed.

~

It wasn’t until later that evening that word came to them.

“Excuse me, m’lords.” It was the same serving girl. “A maiden of the Aldurfolk wishes to speak with you.”

Mynn looked around the place as he took a large bite from a drumstick that he swiped from Einar’s plate. “Well, where is she?” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.

“She awaits you outside, a short distance from here. I am to take you there if you please,” the girl responded.

Mynn grumbled and was about to say something about elves when Einar put his hand on the dwarf’s arm, bringing him up short.

“Why doesn’t she come in here?” the priest asked.

The girl shrugged.

There were concerns of an ambush, but in the end the Companions decided to follow the girl. The serving girl met them behind the inn, outside the fence. She had a shawl wrapped about her head and shoulders that she clenched shut with one hand, in the other she carried a lantern. “This way,” she said and led them off across a small glade that had a series of gardens where the inn grew food.

She stopped when they got near the far end of the glade and pointed into a dark copse of trees. “She’s right in there, m’lords.”

Mynn loosened his axe and the girl frowned.

“I’ll take my leave now,” she said. “I’ve duties back at the inn.” She then quickly turned and left.

“I don’t like it!” Mynn complained.

“Agreed,” Jaxx said, “but let’s look anyway.”

The Companions were more than a little nervous as they entered the tree line. Once the group of them had made their way into the shadows of the trees, and elven woman stepped out from hiding. She wore white robes that matched her hair. In one hand she gripped a thin, white staff with a sapphire set in silver at its tip. She looked intently at the Companions with green-gold eyes.

“Be at ease, friends,” she said. “I assure you that you’re quite safe with me. My name is Elorah and I need your help.”

She’s…beautiful.

“My name is Jaxx,” he said as he stepped to the front and bowed deeply. “How may we be of service to you?”

“Here we go again,” Einar mumbled to Mynn who was nodding. Erevan let out a small chuckle.

“I believe you already know of the nycaloth,” she said.

“We know but a few details,” Vech said. “Maybe you could explain what we’re dealing with?”

She nodded. “Nearly one hundred years ago, Assondir, who they called the Breacher, bound Nelhar the Disjoiner. Nelhar is a particularly foul nycaloth with a rare talent for penetrating magical wards. Soon, this fiend will be free and loose on Arasil to do as it pleases. This must not come to pass.”

“When will this happen?” Vech asked.

“Midnight, when next the moon is new,” Elorah replied.

Einar looked up at the first sliver of the waning crescent overhead. “27 days,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Vech asked.

“I am a Moonspeaker of Shael,” he said as if that explained everything.

“We don’t know where this nycaloth is,” Ilvander said.

She nodded. “It is within a hidden place. Assondir came here to find a seclusium.” The Companions looked at her blankly. “An oubliette of a sort. A place made to hold something and not let it free.”

“What’s the point of such a place?” Mynn asked. “If something needs to be gone forever just give it the axe!”

Elorah shook her head. “Some things do not die so easily, master dwarf.”

“What’s in this…seclusium?” the monk asked.

“A Voringian King,” Elorah answered.

“We will find this secus… selus… this place and do what needs to be done!” Jaxx declared.

“Slow down,” Einar said waving the tall warrior back. “Nycaloths are not to be taken lightly. We’ve never faced such a thing.”

“Destroying it would only be a temporary solution,” she replied. “It should only be destroyed if it cannot bound and trapped for another hundred years.”

“Are you to join us then?” Jaxx asked with a smile.

“No, I must leave this place for a while,” she replied. “I am being hunted.”

“Hunted? By what?” Jaxx said as he stuck out his chest just a little.

“The Brakari Witch and her men,” Elorah said.

“We are unlikely to be able to bind this fiend,” Vech said. “Assuming we can even find this hidden place.”

“I can help with the binding,” the maiden said. “But you must first find and unlock it for me.”

“This must be the key that you guys were told about from the hags,” Jaxx said turning to Ilvander and Vech.

Ilvander sighed. Vech slapped a hand across his eyes.

“I’ve already augured that your path will take you there,” she said to the monk and warlock. “Worry not.”

The Companions stood silently as they each considered the situation.

“Will you help me?” Elorah pressed.

“It appears,” Ilvander said looking at Jaxx, “that we will.”

Elorah smiled and unhooked an elven longblade from her belt. She offered the sword to Erevan, “May this help you on your way.”

He took the blade and pulled it from its sheath. Its blade was of mithril. His eyes widened.

“It is enchanted and no friend to orckind,” she said simply.

Erevan bowed deeply, one hand over his heart. “Thank you, Lady Elorah. We will see the task done.”

Friday, August 5 – THEN

Mynn​

Three days had passed since the Companions had spoken with Elorah. They had set out from the Bird ‘n the Bucket early the following morning and were making exceptional time with Erevan blazing a trail through the Silverglades.

They crossed a river at an ancient, crumbling bridge that Mynn claimed was built by dwarves during the Second Age. There, they encountered a large group of orcs and a pair of ogres. They defeated the orcs at the bridge, but spent the next day trying to avoid hunting orc warbands that were trailing them. One such group, that included an ettin, caught up to the group and were likewise defeated.

On the fourth day, with orcs still prowling the forest all about them, the Companions were quietly staring at a large, ruined temple as they hid in the brush.

The crumbling building was three stories high, with various towers and balconies worked into its upper floors. It stood atop a rise in the forest. A trail, mostly overgrown, led up to a short flight of stairs that climbed to a set of large wooden doors. One of the doors was ajar.

Jaxx made a low whistling sound. “That’s certainly a thing to behold. Just abandoned here out in the middle for the forest by itself for all this time.”

“The forests of Arasil hold many secrets,” Erevan said. “And it isn’t abandoned. Orcs lair within.” The ranger paused a minute to look the place over carefully. “This way,” he said and led the Companions forward.

The Companions stood within the narthex of the temple. Hallways went both left and right and just a bit further up were also a matching set of stairways leading up to either side. The hallway ended in a set of large wooden doors that curved up to a point in the middle. The doors appeared as if they had once been artfully decorated, but time and neglect had robbed them of any beauty. A balcony was directly overhead and a round, broken stained-glass window let in just enough light to shine some reds and greens on the doors before them.

Jaxx cast false life as Erevan opened the doors…and all hell broke loose.

Beyond the doors was the old nave of the temple, which was both long and open. There were balconies to either side that stretched the length of the room. At the far end was a raised chancel, five feet higher than the floor of the nave and it was separated from the lower floor by a five-foot wide channel of water. A plank, slightly off center to the right, bridged the chancel to the nave, a small rug at the bottom. The light of two large bonfires provided light for the Companions…and lots of orcs who apparently knew that the Companions were coming.

An orc from the far end, standing before what could only be described is a throne-like chair of shaky design, pointed at the Companions and shouted a very intricate plan of attack, “KIIIIIIIIILLLLLL!”

Before the orcs could react, Erevan was in the room and racing towards the far end. An orc that had been standing between where he was and where he wanted to be looked at him slack-jawed, obviously confused. The elf jumped and came down, both of his longblades before him. He pinned the orc to the floor and kept moving.

Ilvander buried an arrow into an orc within the nave with his shortbow from the door. FWAP! He held his ground at the doorway, “Erevan, there are too many!” he shouted at the elf’s back.

Some of the orcs within the nave started to react and surged forward. Two peeled off to cut off the ranger, but the rest piled up at the open doors. Erevan took a gash from a greataxe.

At the door, Mynn was at Ilvander’s side. With one swipe of his greataxe he disemboweled one orc and used the follow-through to gravely wound a second. “Dwarven steel!”

More orcs piled up at the door…and started coming in from the side hallways that led into the narthex at the front of the temple.

“We’re surrounded!” Vech shouted. An eye appeared above one of the flanking orcs and an eldritch blast sent it back into the hallway it had just exited.

Within the nave, orcs appeared on the balconies and started raining arrows at those below. One took a shot at Erevan, leaving a cut across his cheek. The others peppered the Companions standing near the doorway in the narthex.

Einar shouted, “This is bad!” and cast bless.

Jaxx bound up the left stairway, which led to one of the balconies in the nave. A mighty swing with his greatsword took an archer’s foot off mid-shin. It howled and grabbed its leg before teetering off the balcony into one of the bonfires below, creating a cloud of ash and cinders. “Guys, there are a lot of archers up here!” he shouted back over his shoulder.

Erevan’s eyes flickered with green light as he cast hunter’s mark on one of the two orcs before him. He followed up by running his magic blade through its mouth, causing it to gurgle black blood over his right hand before falling into a hump on the floor.

Ilvander pulled out his shortsword and thrust it into the orc just wounded by the dwarf’s backhand. It rocked on its heels, but stayed on its feet. The monk snapped a quick kicked at it, but missed.

There were a lot of orcs at the doors and their attacks were landing. Both dwarf and monk were starting to bleed.

Mynn responded with a roar and hewed into the pile with big swings that sent orcs to the ground, which was starting to get slippery with the blood.

The flanking orcs, now fully into the room, pressed on Vech and Einar.

“We need help back here!” Vech shouted as he burnt down the orc he had previously wounded. The eye rolled over to another. There was a press of bodies in the narthex now.

Orc archers on the left balcony focused their attacks on Jaxx and his false life quickly faded under the assault. The archers on the right split their attacks between Erevan and those at the door.

Jaxx continued delivering death to the archers on the balcony with him. “Erevan, pull back!”

Below, Erevan was like whirling death, killing orcs left and right as he continued to make his way to the ramp that led up to the chancel, but he was starting to slow as his blood seeped from multiple wounds. He got to the bottom of the ramp and nearly fell into a pit as the rug dropped away from his feet. (Stupid high-Dex characters!) He hopped over and got to the top to face off with the chief…who was now hiding behind his makeshift throne. The elf turned his head sideways a bit musing. The orc seemed a little cowardly to be a chief. Orcs recognize only strength.

Then the war chief struck; the real war chief that is. From the balcony at the front of the temple, near the broken window, he gave a great yawp as he leapt down into the fray, greataxe held high, descending upon the hapless warlock.

Vech screamed with the first hit of the axe and fell with the second.

The chief was massive. Nearly eight feet in height and easily four hundred pounds of pure muscle and heavy bone. “Tonight, we eat meat!” it shouted.

The remaining archers from either side were focusing on Jaxx now, who was taking an impressive number of hits and staying on his feet.

Einar quickly hit Vech with healing word and then threw his hands into the air, “Shael, I call upon thy servants!” A pack of spiritual wolves and raptors exploded from the priest and swarmed over the orcs. All screamed, many fell. (This is Einar’s version of Radiance of the Dawn, which is devastatingly awesome. It was looking bad up to this point. Well, it was still bad after too, but there was considerably less bad now.)

Jaxx finished off the last of the archers on the left balcony, but found himself feeling awfully exposed to the archers across the nave.

Erevan snaked out two hits with his blades into an orc’s chest, which fell from the edge of the chancel into the water below. As it fell, it struck the edge with the back of its head and slid into the brackish water.

Vech looked up at the chief towering over him and raised an arm to fend off its attack. It didn’t work. Vech returned to the world of unconsciousness.

“Erevan!” Ilvander shouted and leapt through the pile of orcs at the door and raced into the room far enough to hit the ranger with a healing word.

The monk was struck twice from behind as two of the orcs had given chase. He fell where he stood.

Mynn whirled on the chief. “The Ancestors command your death!” he shouted as he dropped a vow of enmity upon the chief. He swung is axe in a fearsome arc, and took the massive orc’s left arm off at the elbow, red light flaring in the wound. The orc howled in rage, but stayed on its feet. (Is it just me or to paladins always critical the big-bad? It certainly feels that way.)

Einar was struck up the side of his head and bless faded. He hit himself with a healing word and tried to dodge the attacks as best he could; he was pinned in a corner. “Help!” he shouted.

Back in the nave, Jaxx leapt from the balcony down the chancel below. He rolled once to break his fall and carried forward back to his feet before racing over to Erevan. He launched an orc off the side with the back of his arm. It landed face first with a sickening crunch; it lay there twitching. “Get off him!” he roared.

Surprisingly, the orc chief turned on Einar. “Soft,” it said and swung its axe twice (in one hand). Einar evaded the first swing, but there was no dodging the second. The priest slumped down, the corner holding him upright as he held pressed his hands against his stomach keeping things on the inside. He was going into shock.

Mynn swung around on the chief and buried his axe into the small of its back. THUNK! It felt like hitting a tree. He then lifted the handle of the axe and applied torque. Then came the sweet sound of snapping bones. The orc rag-dolled to the floor and died.

The last of the orcs were soon finished off. Miraculously, none of the Companions died.

Mynn recovered the chief’s greataxe, which was of dwarven make and enchanted to slay trolls. Its name was Cinderhew.