THE FORSAKEN ARCH
While the other members of the K.I.A. stayed behind to tend the victims at the Hospice of the Blessed Maiden, Ratbone winged his way across Korvosa in his avian persona. He visited first the Bank of Abadar, quickly summing up for Ishani what had transpired, and then the Citadel to speak with Cressida Kroft. Within an hour, priests of Abadar and members of the Guard swarmed the Hospice as the streets were secured and the sick were ministered to. Ratbone made one more stop on his way back, to a small apartment on Overton Way. There he retrieved Deyanira Mirukova, simply telling her that he had something to show her, and then he carried her in his large talons back across the town. When he finally set her down outside the doors of the Hospice, the first person she saw was Ruan. There reunion was tearful and required no words. The druid left them to their privacy, and slipped quietly back inside.
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“I still can’t believe this,” Cressida said, shaking her head as she paced around Andaisin’s inner sanctum. “Blood veil man-made, the Queen’s own personal physician in league with these cultists, the Gray Maiden’s somehow involved? If I weren’t seeing it with my own eyes, I couldn’t credit it. The fallout from this is going to be a nightmare!”
“What about the Queen?” Ratbone asked. “Are you going to arrest her?”
“On what grounds?” the Field Marshal asked. “There is no hard evidence here, no matter what the priestess said. It won’t stick. I’ll just have to go to her and give my report. Her reaction will be telling.”
Ratbone shook his head. “I don’t understand the laws of this city. Right and wrong get lost in bureaucracy and politics too often for my taste.”
“Unfortunately, we have to play by the rules for now,” Cressida said, “but have faith. The truth will eventually win out, especially if it continues to have champions such as yourselves. However, I’m afraid I have some more bad news for you. The Queen has ordered all of Old Korvosa to be quarantined.”
“What??” the six companions asked in unison.
Cressida nodded. “The Gray Maidens have destroyed every wooden bridge leading into the old city, and they are erecting a permanent barricade on the only stone bridge. Even though we’ve found the source of the plague, I’m afraid things aren’t going to get much better any time soon.”
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In the days that followed, Ishani, using the documents the company had provided from Dr. Davaulus and Rolth’s lab, was able to come up with the foundation for a vaccine for blood veil. Apparently, there were some Varisians who had a natural immunity to the plague. Ishani was not certain what their connection was at first, but upon further research, he discovered that they all shared a common ancestor…a woman named Kasanda Miromia-Foxglove. From their distilled blood, he developed the immunization. Word spread quickly of what had transpired in the Hospice of the Blessed Maiden, and the true source of blood veil. The official stance of the Palace was that the Queen had been duped by Dr. Davaulus, and his actions and those of his masked minions did not accurately reflect her desires. Furthermore, it was asserted that any Gray Maidens involved in the hospice had no knowledge of the true goings-on in the chambers below. The majority of Korvosa’s citizens found it difficult to believe that their queen, however vain and unpleasant, could be the source of such an evil. They were, for the most part, simply thankful that the scourge had passed, and were eager to get back to their lives.
As far as the K.I.A. was concerned, their own role in unmasking the conspiracy and bringing the perpetrators to justice could not be kept under wraps. It was estimated by those in the know that the actions of the heroes led to the salvation of no fewer than three-thousand of Korvosa’s citizens, either directly or indirectly. Consequently, they were lauded as the city’s saviors from the meanest slum to Castle Korvosa itself. Tayce Soldado organized the thanks of Korvosa’s settled Varisians in the form of a large feast at her home with the entire community, many of whom insisted on bringing modest gifts. Dozens of other Korvosan families also recognized the companions for saving the lives of family members or neighbors. Craftsmen, local artists and guildmembers offered their favor and services. Field Marshal Kroft personally thanked the company for their extensive aid. Deputizing them as official members of the Korvosan Guard, she opened Citadel Volshyenek’s armory to them. Finally, Queen Ileosa issued a public acknowledgement, delivered conspicuously by Marcus Thalassinus, commander of the Sable Company rather than the Queen herself, acknowledging the K.I.A.’s work, praising their actions and granting each of them a 5,000 gold crown writ in reward for their services. Of particular note, Ratbone pooled all of the resources he received and purchased two magical items…a decanter of never-ending water, and a spoon of sustenance, the latter capable of producing an endless supply of tasteless but nourishing gruel. These he donated to Old Korvosa, to help ease the privation suffered by the quarantined population. His beneficence remained anonymous.
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Despite the accolades heaped upon them by the grateful citizenry of Korvosa, there were certain elements of the establishment that made it clear that their accomplishments were not appreciated by everyone. The Korvosan Guard had suffered greatly over the past weeks, and their ranks were significantly thinned. Conspicuous in their growing numbers, however, were the Gray Maidens. Patrols of them could be seen with increasing frequency on the streets, and wherever the members of the K.I.A. encountered them, they were met with barely restrained hostility and encouraged to move along. So when Cressida Kroft summoned them to the Citadel one morning and informed them that it might be in their best interest to disappear for awhile, they were not entirely surprised.
“I’m concerned for your safety,” the Field Marshall said. “I doubt any moves would be made against you openly, but there are many dark alleys and out of the way places in this city. As it so happens, an assignment out of town has just presented itself. Ordinarily, such a mission would be…beneath your capabilities, but in this case, I think it would suit you perfectly. The village of Shoalbury is located several days northwest of Korvosa, along the coast. Their primary industry is the export of pearls, and they are a major provider for the jewelers here. For the past several months, none of their shipments have reached us. It seems they are having bandit problems, and they’ve requested our assistance. I think a trip to the provinces is just what you people need.”
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The village of Shoalbury was located some two-hundred feet from the bay shore, nestled in a low valley between barren, craggy hills. Three short piers served as staging areas for the villagers when they dove for pearls, as well as docks for four community fishing boats. Due to the lack of significant vegetation in the region, the buildings in the village were primarily made of rock and mud with thatch roof. None of the buildings had more than one floor, and a loose stone wall surrounded the town itself.
Cressida told the company to ask for a man named Palonius Firth, a member of the town’s collective council, when they arrived in town, but when they entered the gates, the villagers were in an uproar. They asked for the councilman, but were told there was trouble down near the beach and he was occupied. They made their way down to the docks, where they found most of the villagers gathered on the beach, watching two men and several armed militia tend to another man who lay unconscious on the sand.
“What’s going on here?” Michael asked as he and the others pushed their way through the crowd. “Is one of you Palonius Firth?”
“I am,” one of the men growled in annoyance. He was dressed in a fine suit of chainmail decorated with pearls, but he appeared haggard, and looked as if he might have been involved in a brawl recently. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Michael, of the Church of Iomedae,” the priest said. “We represent the Korvosan Guard and were sent by Field Marshal Croft.”
“Oh…!” Firth exclaimed, relief in his voice. “Well met! I’m sorry we weren’t able to give you a proper welcome.”
“Can we be of assistance here?” Michael asked. “What’s happened?”
The man lying on the beach looked as if he’d just been dragged from the water. He was badly beaten, and one of his eyes was missing, seemingly gouged from its socket.
“It’s something I’d rather not discuss out in the open,” Firth said in a low voice.
“I understand,” Michael nodded, “but this man obvious needs help.”
He knelt down beside a dour man with a neatly trimmed goatee.
“Balrak Lough,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m the village priest.”
Michael shook his hand, and then the pair turned to their attention to the wounded man. They worked for several minutes, tending to the most grievous of his injuries. Then two militiamen lifted him and carried him back towards the village.
“If you’ll follow me,” Firth said and led the companions to a large building which served as a meeting hall for the council.
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Besides Firth, two other men were present in the meeting room. One was Balrak Lough, while the other was a blonde half-elf with an intense look in his eyes, and a large stack of papers on the table before him. A fourth chair sat empty beside him. Firth introduced him as Trek, and then Michael made his own introductions. Firth indicated for all of them to be seated, and then sank heavily into his own chair.
“I had hoped our fourth member, Mr. Seacrust, would realize the import of this meeting, and grace us with his presence,” he sighed, “but I guess he has more important things to do. No matter. As you have no doubt learned, our village is under siege. A group of bandits has taken an interest in our pearl trade. It’s been over six months since any of our pearl shipments have made it to the Korvosan markets, and nearly as long since we’ve been able to purchase supplies. The bandits seem to know our schedule as well as we do, and it’s been my suspicion for some time that we have a traitor in our midst. This latest event has all but confirmed my fears. Last night, we tried to smuggle a large shipment of pearls south on a fishing boat, rather than use the road. The bandits had no reason to look to the sea, yet still they struck our transport and slaughtered its crew nearly to a man. Only one soldier, Gil Umpbrow, the man you saw on the beach, survived, and only barely. This shipment was our last hope. We are now nearly defenseless. If someone can’t find wherever these bandits are holed up, drive them out, and reclaim our stolen pearls, I fear Shoalbury will have to be abandoned. If you can help us, I’ll see to it that you are rewarded well.”
“May we speak with Mr. Umpbrow?” Kat asked.
Palonius looked to Balrak. The cleric looked thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded.
“When we are done here, I’ll take you to him,” he said. “But I would like to be present in case he needs my attention.”
“What can you tell us about the bandits?” Herc asked Palonius.
“Counting the shipment that was attacked last night,” the councilmen replied, “the last four shipments of pearls have all been lost to them. Other shipments and travelers on the road have been unmolested. The bandits obviously want nothing but pearls. Almost all of our militia have now perished, since they were working as caravan guards for all the ambushed shipments. Scouts have been sent to all the nearby caves and known smuggler coves, but none of those locations had any sign of activity. Wherever they’re holed up, its somewhere new.”
“There’s one more thing,” Trek spoke up in a soft voice. “While we’ve recovered all the bodies of our slain militiamen, they were all missing their eyes. It would seem that pearls aren’t the only things the bandits are interested in…”
“You mentioned something about a possible traitor,” Ratbone asked Finch. “Whom do you suspect?”
Balrak and Trek looked at each other.
“We’re not…all…convinced of that,” the priest said carefully. “Some of us believe that the bandits are using some sort of powerful divination magic to spy on the village.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Palonius shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “If they were capable of such magic, then why didn’t they just use it to invade the town earlier when our guard was down? If you two won’t say it, then I will! I think Argin Seacrust is behind this! His attitude of late and his absence from this meeting are damning, and the fact that he knew the schedules for all the pearl shipments makes him the key suspect!”
“But Palonius,” Trek interjected, “all four of us knew the schedules. By your reasoning, any of us might be this so-called traitor.”
The three men grew quiet and thoughtful.
“I think we can answer this question quite easily,” Michael said at length. When they looked up at him, he continued. “I have a spell at my disposal that will allow me to discern the truth of the words of any who speak while it is in effect. If you would acquiesce to answering some simple questions under its influence, the truth will be known.”
Slowly, one-by-one, the councilmen nodded their agreement.
“I can’t speak for Seacrust, however,” Palonius said. “I’ll ask him to join us, but I don’t guarantee it. One more thing…I would ask that any suspicion of a traitor in town not go beyond these walls. It would only cause panic among the villagers, and might also alert any sympathizers to the bandits that we’re on to them. Now, if there’s nothing else, Balrak will take you to see Gil while I go and speak with Argin.”
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Gil was awake when the group arrived at his home. Most of his wounds had been dealt with by Balrak and Michael, but nothing could be done about his missing eye. He was still shaken up by his ordeal, but he agreed to speak with them about what had befallen his caravan.
“One thing I’m sure of,” he said, “the attack was swift, and it was to the point. Our ship was sailing with minimal light, using the stars and moon for guidance. I was looking out to shore when the ambush came. I saw a group of riders on horseback charging at us across the waves! They were literally galloping over the surface of the water! When they reached the boat, two of the riders leaped onto the deck, and when their hoods fell back, they had terrible, bird-like heads, and they were armed with bows and swords. As we tried to fight them off, something else dropped out of the sky onto the deck…a massive, horned ogre that used magic to quickly break through our defenses. It didn’t take long for them to completely overwhelm us. I did my best to fight back, but as the birdmen cut down my friends and plucked their eyes from their skulls with their claws and beaks, it was pretty plain that all was lost. One of them managed to knock me down and…did this.” He indicated his empty eye socket. “Then Captain Stalgie clubbed the fiend senseless with a gaff. I got to my feet, but then stumbled over a body and fell into the water. I only barely managed to make it to the shore before I collapsed. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t see any sign of the bandits or the boat.”
His story was disconcerting, since it seemed that more was involved than simple bandits. Bird men and ogre magi? It seemed the unique talents of the K.I.A. might actually be put to the test after all. Meeting with Argin Seacrust was becoming more of a priority.
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When they arrived back at the council house, however, Seacrust was not there.
“He refused,” Palonius explained. “He said he didn’t have to justify himself to anyone.”
“I see,” Michael said. “Then I suppose we’ll just have to go to him. I trust the rest of you won’t mind still submitting to our questions?”
“Not at all,” the councilman nodded.
“Just one other thing,” Michael said. “Do you mind if I asked where you received those bruises?”
Palonius sighed. “It was a misunderstanding between myself and one of the villagers.”
“That’s not exactly true,” Balrak interjected. “It was Argin. The two of them argued over how to stage the secret pearl shipment. Argin was in favor of an overland caravan disguised as a group of pilgrims, but Palonius insisted on using the fishing boat. One thing led to another and blows were exchanged.”
“I see,” Michael nodded. “All the more reason to hear Mr. Seacrust’s side of all this then. Shall we begin?”
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Under the influence of Michael’s spell, the three councilmen were found to be wholly truthful in what they had said. That left nothing else but to go to Seacrust’s bungalow. It lay at the end of the southernmost pier to the east of town. The mild surf washed toward a rocky shore outfitted with three such floating piers. Each of them was just over one-hundred feet in length, and a small cabin sat at the end of each. A ramp that consisted of thick boards tied with stout leather ropes secured each pier to the shore, the pier itself rising and falling with the passing waves.
“Wait here,” Ratbone instructed the three councilmen, who’d accompanied them. “We’ll handle this in case there’s trouble.”
No sooner had they stepped out onto the pier, than a loud voice called from the cabin.
“Turn around now, you curs, afore you regret it! You’ll never get me, you filthy mongrels! I ain’t done nothing ye wouldn’t’a done in my place!”
“Well, I guess that answers the question of guilt or innocence,” Valeris smirked.
Carefully, they started down the pier. When they’d gone no more than halfway, however, Seacrust called out again.
“I warned ye! Now let’s see how ye like swimmin’ with th’fishes!”
Suddenly, the section of pier they were standing on collapsed as a trapdoor opened beneath them. The six companions hurled themselves to opposite sides, with half of them scrambling safely to the far side, while the other three managed to just clear the pit to the near. When they looked down, they could see the water below them red with chum, and thick with the circling fins of sharks. Ratbone quickly transformed into his condor form, and carried his friends safely across the death trap.
When they reached the door of the cabin, it was locked tight. Herc shouldered his shield and slammed into it, smashing it to splinters. No sooner was the door open, than a tall, hairless man dressed in tight-fitting seal skin, seemed to appear out of thin air. He held what seemed like a small pearl in his hand, and he hurled it to the decking of the pier directly behind Herc and Ratbone. When it struck, it exploded in a blinding flash, buffeting the druid and the mercenary to their knees. When the glare vanished, Argin was gone again. Herc and Ratbone climbed slowly to their feet, their bodies covered with bruises and cuts. Michael stepped forward and gripped his holy symbol as he channeled his divine power to heal his companions. To his shock, however, their injuries remained unchanged. Katarina frowned, perplexed as well. Quickly, she reached into a pouch at her waist, chanted a few arcane words, and flung a handful of glittering dust towards the interior of the cabin. Her eyes grew wide as the dust seemed to strike some unseen barrier between her and her wounded companions.
“Herc, Ratbone!” she called. “Can you hear me?”
Both nodded, and Herc moved to step towards her, but was abruptly stopped in his tracks as he ran into the same barrier. He reached out his hands like some sort of street mime, and felt about the circumference of what seemed to be some sort of invisible sphere imprisoning him and Ratbone.
“I’ll tell ye one last time,” Argin’s voice sounded from inside the cabin. “leave now, or I’ll kill’em both!”
“We’ll see about that,” Michael muttered. “Herc, Ratbone! Stand back!”
The pair complied as the priest began chanting. When he was finished, he cast out his hands, using the prayer to unravel the magic holding his friends. To his relief, there was a loud pop as the sphere winked out of existence.
“Damn you all!” Seacrust cried as he suddenly reappeared, a pair of kukris in his hands. He rushed at Herc, and slashed the big warrior viciously. Herc grunted, but didn’t give ground. Instead, he struck back, bashing Seacrust with his shield, and then striking with his own blade once the man’s defenses were open. Ratbone quickly transformed into a large mongrel and darted into the fray, seizing one of Seacrust’s legs in his jaws. Seacrust yelped and raised his blades to strike at the dog, but then he froze in mid-swing as if paralyzed.
“Finish him!” Katarina shouted, her face a rictus of concentration and strain. “I can’t hold him for long!”
A moment later, Seacrust broke free of her spell and moved again to strike, but Herc’s shield caught him squarely under his chin and he collapsed in a heap, still breathing, but unconscious.
A thorough search of Seacrust’s cabin turned up damning evidence inside his footlocker. First and foremost were three leather pouches of large, red pearls. Palonius readily identified them as part of the recent shipment. Sitting next to the pouches was a golden statuette of a humanoid figure with a hawk’s head and feet, and four large feathered wings. It felt strangely cold to the touch.
“Gods,” Balrak hissed. “That’s Pazuzu, the demon lord of the air. What was Argin doing with that?”
Finally, below the pouches and the statue were several folded sheets of parchment. They contained detailed notes on pearl shipment logistics, along with several marks on a regional map that seemed to indicate prospective ambush points. Only two marks were located off the main road leading out of Shoalbury. One Palonius verified as the site of the fishing boat ambush.
“This other, however,” Palonius said, his brow creasing, “this appears to be the Forsaken Arch.”
“The what?” Valeris asked.
“It’s a natural landmark in a secluded cove west of here,” the councilman replied. “It was once considered as a possible site for the village, but it was rejected due to the large number of sea cats that infest the waters there.”
“Is that one of the places your militia investigated while looking for the bandits?” Michael asked.
“No,” Palonius said. “It was considered too remote.”
“Sounds like the perfect place for a hideout,” Herc added.
“Hey,” Valeris interrupted, “what about him?” He jerked his thumb towards the slumped form of Argin Seacrust.
The three councilmen seemed to notice their former comrade for the first time.
“Since you are representatives of the Korvosan Guard,” Palonius said at length, “we will remand him into your custody.”
“Agreed,” Michael said, “but you will have to secure him until we return.”
“Where are you going?” Palonius asked.
“The Forsaken Arch,” the priest replied.
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The road out of Shoalbury lead west for several miles before it turned inland along a river. It was easily forded at that point, and on the far bank a somewhat overgrown trail continued west. Ratbone knelt down at the head of the trail and discovered several sets of tracks that were still fairly fresh, though it appeared someone had taken pains to hide the evidence of their passing. The trail wound through rugged hill terrain for another mile or so. At that point it passed within a few hundred yards of a large cove, and several hundred feet off shore could be seen the imposing stone arch that gave the area its name. Ratbone took his avian form and flew up to getter a better view of the surrounding terrain. The others paused in a shallow valley formed by two tree-lined hills.
“Did you hear that?” Herc said abruptly, holding up his hand for silence.
The others quieted, turning their heads this way and that. Then, they heard it too…the sound of a child crying, coming from the trees somewhere off to their left.
“Wait here,” Herc said as he started off into the woods.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Valeris grumbled, but by that point, the mercenary had vanished into the undergrowth. A moment later, they heard another sound…a woman’s screams, coming from the trees to the right of the trail.
“Like I said,” Valeris remarked.
Herc pushed through the dense brush, the baby’s cries growing louder. Suddenly, three figures stepped out of the trees in front of him. They were cloaked and hooded, but Herc could see black eyes glinting from within the folds of the hoods, and the protruding tips of what appeared to be sharp beaks. They clutched shortswords in their clawed hands, and before the warrior could react, they were on him, moving in close and stabbing at him repeatedly.
Meanwhile, as the other K.I.A. members debated what they should do, the air was suddenly filled with the sound of whistling arrows as a dozen or more cloaked forms stepped from the trees and opened fire. None of the quartet were spared. Arrows pierced each of them, though none fatally. O’Reginald reacted in blind panic, a spell on his lips and his hands outflung before he realized what he was doing. A cone of rocks flew from his fingers, ripping through vegetation and flesh alike, killing at least half of the assassins. Michael, reacting more cautiously, ducked behind his shield and darted up into the trees, slashing down one of the bowmen before him. Then, without warning, a huge bird dove down from the clouds above, raking one of the bird-men with its claws and tearing its throat out. Ratbone then climbed again, wheeling around for another attack.
Herc, for his part, had no problem dispatching his opponents once he’d regained his composure. Despite his wounds, he dashed back through the trees and exploded into the clearing, coming up directly behind the last bowman, snapping his neck before he could even turn around.
“I’ll say it again,” Valeris said, breathless from the fight, “this looks like the place.”
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The blue-green water of the sea crashed against the rocks in a flurry of foam and mist in the hauntingly beautiful cove. Thick strands of brush guarded the uplands to the east and west, and here and there, jagged rocks protruded from the waters, but the predominant feature offshore was the ominous arch of dark rock. The granite outcropping of two stone columns, each easily over one-hundred feet in diameter, supported a thick arch of rock some two-hundred feet above the ocean’s surface. Several unusually large dark birds perched on top of the arch, their shrill cries competing with the surf for dominance over the scene. A wide sandbar extended from the beach out to the stone arch, its length strewn with seashells and bits of coral.
The companions started across the sandbar, the water only a few feet deep at low tide. They were still several dozen yards from the arch when the huge seacat emerged from the water, hauling itself up onto the sandbar before them. It opened its jaws in a gurgling yowl, and at the same time, the cries of the birds became louder. Looking up, the company saw the avians diving towards them, large black-feathered eagles with glowing red eyes. Herc slogged forward, dispatching the piscean feline quickly and efficiently. The eagles, however, struck with deadly efficiency, dive-bombing the heroes from a height of a hundred feet or more. Still, when Katarina spread her fingers, spoke a word and sent a dazzling display of rainbow hued light fanning at them, they dropped to the water stunned. It was a simple matter to neutralize them after that. The company continued on towards the Forsaken Arch, secure in the knowledge that they were expected.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
