Neverwinter Knight said:
Status: Completed!
THE PLOT THICKENS
The ballroom was a shambles. Bodies were strewn across the floor, and gore spattered the rich furnishings. Flames still smoldered from the ruined wall hangings. Kiko stared at the destruction and shook his head at the incredible loss of life and property damage that seemed to follow his companions like a cloud. Did they accomplish their goal here?, he wondered. True, enemies were dead, though not all. True, they had learned of the ultimate plan of the Cage Wrights. However, it seemed as if they were always one step behind their opponents, and never in time to prevent death…only to deal it out in retaliation. “Now what?” he asked aloud, though to no one in particular.
“What do ya mean?” Rusty snapped. “You heard what that three-eyed witch said! They’re plannin’ on openin’ a doorway to Hell, then enslavin’ the whole of the Reach, if not the Realms!”
“Yes Rusty,” Kiko said patiently, “I heard Lady Rhiavadi’s speech as well as you did. However, it seems we’ve killed anyone capable of answering further questions for us, such as when and where this ritual is to occur, and who are the rest of the Cage Wrights.”
Rusty’s mouth worked silently as he tried to think of a response. It was Dalthon who saved him from further embarrassment. “I hate to interrupt, but from the sounds of those whistles coming from the street, I’d say the house guards have raised the alarm with the city watch. I think our current situation would be difficult to explain to the authorities, so I suggest we table this discussion until we can consult with Jenya.”
Rusty quickly cleared his throat, “Er…umm…yeah! Good idea! Gunther, you and Dalthon start workin’ yer magic and transport us outta here…fast!”
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“This is very disturbing,” Jenya said, pacing back in forth before the desk in her study. “However, it fits with information I’ve recently obtained. I consulted with Tyr through divination, and I was told to seek out ‘Cauldron’s proud orphan.’ At first I didn’t know what to make of this, but then I recalled that in many public meetings, Lord Vhalantru would often refer to himself in this manner, referring to the fact that he is from a noble elven house, but has no family in Cauldron or the Reach. With what you have told me of these so-called Shackle Born, I feel more sure that young Terrym is one of them, and that Lord Vhalantru’s adoption of him was not altruistic. Given the close dealings between House Vhalantru, and House Rhiavadi, it might be prudent to turn your investigation in that direction.”
Grimm nodded, but his face betrayed his misgivings. “I do not mind our company taking on this role for you, the Church and the City, High Priestess, but it would ease my thoughts if I knew we could depend on the support of other allies. The city guard is of no use, and the Lord Mayor is missing. The Bright Axes are increasingly looked upon with suspicion, despite our efforts on behalf of the people. Whom might we count on?”
“You’re point is a valid one,” Jenya replied. “You know that you have the full support of this church, but do not count on the others. The church of Kelemvor is no more, and the church of Tempus is choosing to bury their heads in the sand. Alas, the steward of Lathander’s shrine seems unbalanced of late. However, we now have new allies that have revealed themselves in the Harpers. I will contact Meerthan and see if his agents can pursue other avenues of investigation for us.”
“I have one more idea,” Rusty added. “Seems to me that the Storm Blades owe us one."
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It was an odd gathering that night in the Tipped Tankard, and most of the patrons were uneasy as they cast askance glances at the large corner table. The last time that the Storm Blades and the Bright Axes met they had managed to completely wreck the place.
“So what do you want from us?” asked Annah Taskerhill. The dark-skinned bard had agreed to this conclave readily, but with caution. She realized now that she and her comrades had been unwitting dupes of the false priests of Kelemvor, and they owed the life of Todd Vanderboren to their old rivals. Still, pride was a very difficult meal to swallow.
“Only what you are willing to give,” Grimm answered. “We have been completely forthcoming with you, at great risk to ourselves. If you were to go to the city officials and report us, we would all be clapped in irons by dawn. We ask for your trust, and for your support. Most of the local adventuring bands have abandoned the city for greener pastures. We are all that remain. We don’t ask you to accompany us, but merely to be our eyes and ears in the city. You are of the nobility. You have contacts and influence that we do not.”
Annah nodded, then turned to her friends. Cora Lathenmire shrugged. “Suits me,” the burly woman said, eyes downcast. Annah knew that would be the most she could hope for from the surly warrior. Her pride would be even more injured than the rest, especially since that Cage Wright wizard had managed to neutralize here with barely an effort.
“We will readily do as you ask,” Zachary Aslaxin said. “It shames me that my own church, the followers of Tempus, will not open their eyes and see what is going on around them. I will do my part to make amends for the shortcomings of my brothers.”
“I owe you my life,” Todd said simply, “and I always pay my debts.”
The rival bands shook hands around the table, and toasted their new alliance, to the utter astonishment of the bar regulars.
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House Vhalantru was a stately, three-storied manor located on Obsidian Avenue. Like many estates in Cauldron, it had walls of mortared volcanic rock. Its sturdy wooden doors bore ornate silver hinges and fittings. This time, as the Bright Axes stood in the pre-dawn darkness observing the house, there was no discussion or disagreement about the nature of their mission here. In their hearts, the heroes all knew that the man who had assumed the mantle of leadership in Cauldron was not what he appeared. At the very least, he was a liar and a traitor to the city, having brought in the brigand bands of half-orc mercenaries with their draconic rules and enforcements. At worst, he was far more sinister, perhaps even a member of the Cage Wrights himself. In any event, he had to be made to answer for many injustices and to explain himself before the citizens of Cauldron. The Bright Axes intended to bring him to justice, no matter the cost.
The plan was a simple one. Dalthon had previously cast a spell of flight on Tilly, and the little rogue now willed himself from sight with his magic invisibility ring. Silent as a shadow, he took to the air, and sped towards a window in the second story rotunda of the manor house. Peering inside, he saw a darkened, and more importantly, unoccupied library. It was child’s play for the halfling to unlock the window, and slip inside, memorize the floor plan in detail and then flit out again and return to his companions. He described what he had seen to Dalthon and Kiko, and in two quick flashes of light, the sorcerer and monk transdimensionally transported the other members of the company inside the room.
The library was richly appointed, with the floor-to-ceiling shelves carved with exquisite leaf scrollwork. The glass of the windows had lovely, silver laurel designs etched into their panes. All of the décor befit the tastes of an elf, yet something about it all seemed false and hollow to the adventurers, as if it were a façade, merely for show. Tilly wasted little time admiring the craftsmanship. Instead, he crept silently to the door leading from the room, and pulled it open, its oiled hinges making not a sound. Beyond, he found a short hallway, which gave onto a balcony overlooking the main floor foyer. A double staircase descended from the balcony to the marble-tiled entryway below. Several wooden doors gave off the hallway and the balcony, and on the far side of the walkway, an arched opening seemed to lead towards the front of the house. As Tilly passed by the first door on the balcony, his sharp ears caught a faint, almost imperceptible sound. From behind the door came a subtle whisper of movement that the rogue could only describe as a slither. Still invisible, the little halfling cautiously grasped the door handle and gently eased the door open, peering around its edge as he did so. Inside it was dark, but Tilly’s halfling eyes could pick out details in black and white. The room was obviously a privy, but a handsome one. It seemed empty at first glance, but the rogue was used to noticing details that might elude someone with less acute senses. In the far corner of the room, coiled behind a basin, was what appeared to be a large serpent of some sort. However, as it lifted its head at the sight of the door opening, Tilly could see that its facial features were distinctly humanoid, yet twisted and evil, with lank, stringy hair hanging from its scalp. Tilly reasoned that the creature must be some sort of guardian, placed here by Vhalantru, or else it had been put here by someone else to assassinate the acting lord-mayor. Either way, it was up to no good, and now it was alert to the halfling’s presence, even though it couldn’t actually see the rogue. Moving with the quickness of a snake himself, Tilly pushed open the door completely, took three steps across the room, drawing his blades as he went, and then plunged his shortsword deep into the creature’s neck. Instantly, the little rogue became visible, but he continued to press his attack. Three more times he struck at the beast, all the while dodging and ducking its mad thrashings and vicious strikes with its wickedly sharp fangs.
“Tilly, down!” a voice boomed from behind him. Instinctively, the halfling hit the floor, just a heavy, spiked chain whistled past his head, wrapping around the neck of the snake-creature, and then jerking taught, snapping the monster’s spine. As Tilly rolled onto his back, he saw Grimm silhouetted in the doorway, slowly reeling in his deadly weapon.
The rest of the company had quickly gathered on the balcony after hearing the sounds of Tilly’s melee. Now it was Rusty who heard noises. From the floor above came the thumping of booted feet running. From a door further down the walkway came the distinctive words of a spell being cast. Without hesitation, the priest rushed across the balcony and slammed one hob-nailed boot into the door, splintering it wide open. On the far side was a servant’s pantry, with a spiral staircase in the floor leading down to the kitchens below. Coiled in the center of the chamber were two more of the snake-creatures, which Rusty now recognized as nagas…members of a mostly evil race of serpentine spell-casters. The creatures were writhing hypnotically, preparing to unleash their magic. Acting quickly, Rusty called upon Mystra and conjured a whirling wall of razor-sharp blades in the center of the room. The naga nearest the door was caught in the midst of the blade barrier, and in an instant it was shredded to ribbons, leaving a red haze in the air to mark its passing. The second naga, however, managed to dart to the far side of the room, on the other side of the barrier. From there, it continued its casting, and launched a pea-sized ball of fire directly past Rusty’s head. The flaming missile shot out over the foyer, and then blossomed into a mushroom cloud of fire. Rusty could feel his beard smoldering from the heat of the explosion as he was knocked backwards off his feet. The magical fire immediately set the hanging tapestries in the foyer alight, and in seconds the entry became as bright as day as the flames began to spread.
At that moment, three half-orcs wearing chainmail and carrying double-headed axes came pounding out of the archway on the far side of the balcony. Bellowing, they charged around the walkway towards the trespassers, but they had gotten no more than halfway round when Grimm, now standing in the doorway of the room containing the trapped, but by no means helpless, naga, whipped his chain directly in front of them. Almost comically, all three were brought up short by the deadly weapon, stopping dead in their tracks. Immediately, Tilly, Kiko and Rusty closed the distance with them. Tilly reached the trio first, rolling under a potentially lethal swipe from an axe to come up inside the first guard’s defenses. He plunged both blades into the half-orcs belly, and as the mercenary slumped forward, the little rogue used his momentum to heave him over the railing, sending him plunging to the foyer below. Kiko came directly at the second guard, parrying the half-orc’s wide swings with his bare hands. As the guard recovered from one such swipe, the monk swept his front leg in a circle, meaning to take the mercenary’s legs out from under him. However, to Kiko’s amazement, the half-orc managed to bring his axe head back around in a short arc, catching the monk’s leg behind the knee and then lifting straight up. With a shout of surprise, Kiko tumbled flat on his back. Moving in for the kill, the half-orc raised his axe over his head, obviosly intending to chop it down right between Kiko’s eyes, but his fatal mistake was in believing that a prone monk was a defenseless monk. Kiko flipped onto his side, then drew one knee back all the way to his chin, and shot his foot out in a devastating side kick directly to the guard’s throat. Dropping his axe and clutching at his crushed windpipe, the half-orc staggered a half step and fell gurgling to the floor. Meanwhile, Rusty used no such means of finesse. Bellowing a steady stream of dwarven curses, he exchanged blow for blow with the third guard. The half-orc’s axe slammed against the priest’s shield over and over, and then the dwarf would counter with his own axe. It was only a matter of time before the mercenary made a mistake, and when he did, Rusty ended his career.
Grimm was quickly learning that the last naga did not intend on leaving this world without a fight. From behind the protection of the whirling blade barrier, it repeatedly fired a barrage of flaming missiles at the big half-ogre. Though he was in no mortal danger from these, Grimm still thought they hurt like hell, and he was getting more than a little annoyed. Trusting on the magically toughened metal of his chain, he wound it above his head, and then struck through the blade wall. Sparks flew in all directions as the small razor blades careened off the chain, but the projectile still struck true, it’s barbed tip impaling the naga through the forehead, leaving it twitching and jittering on the carpet.
A second trio of half-orcs arrived on the scene. Coming up the stairs from the foyer, they were greeted by Tilly, Kiko and Rusty as well. This time, Dalthon added artillery support, lobbing his own magic missiles into the melee, and in short order, this new set met the same fate as their predecessors. Still, it seemed that Vhalantru valued his privacy, or else he was just extremely paranoid. Six more half-orcs closed on the balcony, coming from both the first and third levels. Though well paid for their loyalty, and experienced fighters in their own right, they had never run up against the likes of the Bright Axes. Like a well-oiled machine, the heroes went thru the mercenaries in less than a minute, taking very few injuries themselves. When no more guards arrived, the companions were finally able to take notice of the fact that the foyer was in flames. “Well, we’ve made plenty of noise, and more than enough light,” Rusty sneered, “and still no sign of the boss-man. Either he ain’t here, or he’s well hidden and well protected. That fire’ll burn for a while, but that don’t mean we’ve got all night. Let’s start searchin’ and flush this rat outta his hole!”
