Garden of the Dead - 8/2/2020
I remember a debate in the Civic Festhall where different religions gave their perspective on life and death. One concept which I remember nodding to was the idea that our deaths help others grow. Our corpses become dirt, enrich plants, plants feed animals, animals eat other ones, animals die…and so forth
Somehow I must have missed the section on plants eating animals.
The four corpses slowly walked towards us unhurriedly, while from the other side, the mass of vegetation creeped on the cavern floor closing the distance. And the three of us stuck in between with no clear path away from either opponent.
“Iesa, stay to my right,” I said as I raised my shield up and faced the corpses, gripping my rod tight, ready to face the onslaught.
Iesa nodded and raised up his rapier, waiting for them to move into striking range. I glanced behind me, as Daneath readied his shield as he too waited for the first move of this mobile mass of vines and shoots.
“Lets strike first,” Iesa said to me. “D’s got our back,” and with that he lunged at the corpse, second from the right. His blade slid quickly and smoothly into the moldering body, and with a twist he pulled the blade out and left a large gash, spilling a liquid mass of slime and ooze. I then pulled on a dark strand and created two skeletal hands to pull on the false life of the bodies, on the right most pair. The one that Iesa struck, fell quickly, and the body broke apart, its limbs separating from the torso, as if string were cut from a puppet. The other one on the far right, swung at Iesa, but its clumsy attack was easy enough for Iesa to dodge.
The two on the left started for me and I could feel that strange oscillation, and struggle. I could feel them strain against it and to attack me, but they could not force themselves to break the strange compulsion of the strand. They stood there, unable to move past me. They inner one swung clumsily at Iesa also missing the agile Knight, while his partners clutched its hands trying to find a way past my strand’s strange effect on them.
From behind me I heard what sounded like a whip cracking and the sound of something striking metal. Glancing behind me, I saw a vine retreating from smacking Daneath’s shield, while another struck the warrior’s legs. He again fended the blow off, by slicing at the fibrous vine with his sword on a riposte. But the plant quickly took advantage of Daneath’s defenses being out of place, and a third vine whipped across Daneath’s sword arm. As the vine slid over his skin, I saw that it was covered in thorns, and they sliced deeply into his flesh.
“Crap, crap, that stings,” he barked. But I was distracted as the corpse on the far right, changed targets and swung at me, unaffected by the strand’s protection. But I swung my shield over in time to soak the blow, and then returned it into position, in case the left two suddenly found the gelbas and will, to attack me. Iesa again thrust into the gut of the right most foe, but the blow was far weaker than the first, as the combat already wore on Iesa’s limited strength as he was already wheezing heavily.
I focused a single strand on the remaining corpse on the right, ignoring the pair on my shield. I knew if I struck them with a strand, then they would be free to engage me, and I wanted to keep that from being the case as long as possible. Meanwhile I heard the sound of metal on thick vines, as Daneath chopped a errand shoot that hit his shield. Two more however snuck by his guard, one striking his thigh, and ripping skin and spraying blood, while the third one snapped at him, pushing Daneath off balance.
I smiled and thought:
This wasn’t so bad. We could do this. Then the plant opened a set of flowers and a horrific smell of rot and worse came over all of us.
Iesa and Daneath both choked violently, under the wave of nausea that washed over us. But it was too much for me, and I dropped to my hands and knees, heaving as I vomited out the contents of my stomach uncontrollably.
“Myr? Get up!” and I felt Iesa left hand on me, trying to pull me upright. But the three corpses shifted and attacked him, and Iesa had to abandon me to defend himself. Unfortunately, the attempt left him open, as one of the corpses struck him with the remains of a balled-up fist in his ribs, causing him to cough up blood and gasp for air.
I was on my knees, helplessly retching. My bowels now empty, strained to find something more to empty on the floor. The scent of the flowers, and my own bile was more than I could take, as I knelt there, trying to gasp for air. I glanced in Daneath’s direction to see how his gardening was going.
He had managed to thrust his sword deep into the thicket of fiberous roots and shoots, and his sword was covered the plant’s strange fluids. But after he landed a blow, he was struck again by vines. He severed two in self defense while the third raked his sword arm. Looking at it, I could see it was already swelling up in response to the plant’s secretions on the thorns.
Alright; its bad. We can still do this.
I then collapsed in a fit of dry heaves, trying to expel something. I desperately wanted a moment to drink something, just so something would come back up, rather than the continual pain of empty retching that I was feeling. Finally, the wave of nausea eased, allowing me to breathe. Iesa had downed another corpse and was fending off the pair with difficulty.
--Myr! The plant!
I turned at Gossamers’ call. I was now unsure where he was in the throng of combatants. But pushing that aside I looked at the plant confused, then I saw it. What looked like a huge pod that would have held seeds had emerged from the center of the bulk. I then watched as it split open, and another corpse tumbled out of it, dripping wet in some sort of fluid. Once the corpse’s feet hit the ground it ran, past Daneath’s guard and straight into Iesa’s, almost bowling him over as it pummeled him from the back.
“D watch it—crap!” he exclaimed as he realized there was a fresh corpse on the scene. But the plant wasn’t finished. It slid along the wall and I watched shoots and roots reach out, and grab one of the corpses that Iesa had just recreated, and with horror I saw it stuff the remains, into what looked like another pod.
We’ve walked into the Lady’s Shadow!
Iesa was now surrounded and weakening further as he tried to stay balanced. As he fought the three bodies, each had a turn of landing blows, keeping him off balance and exposing him to more pummeling from the animated bodies.
“Myr! Help!” Iesa shouted as he swung wildly trying to use the threat of his blade to keep the corpses from attacking. But they continued their clumsy onslaught. Meanwhile Daneath was still trying to sink his blade deeper into the foliage, looking for the main trunk of the thing. Another pod had emerged and expelled a fresh slimy corpse which threw itself into the fray with Iesa making it a four to one challenge.
I stumbled to my feet, wiping some bile from my mouth with my forearm. I was exhausted from my bowel’s defection to the enemy, but I wasn’t ready to give up yet. I stood and stumbled towards Iesa. The corpses shirked away from me as I stumbled forward until I draped my arms over Iesa and clung onto him desperately as he supported me.
“I’m sorry about this,” I panted as I leaned my head on his shoulder looking behind him.
“Sorry about wha--?” He started before I suddenly cut him off.
I screamed.
The piercing shriek echoed within the cave, causing the walls to reverberate with the sound. As I emptied my lungs so was the darkness normally pent up within me was suddenly freed. Without any constraints, the inky strands of darkness tore at everything around me, destroying life and unlife alike. Three of the corpses fell from the onslaught, and the fourth was nearly done.
“Myr what the hell?” I heard Daneath shout.
But I was now focused on Iesa, our roles reversed, his rapier slack in his hand, and his labored breathing now slowed to the barest whisper. Now I was the one clutching him in the vain attempt to keep his unconscious form upright. I let him slide down to the floor of the cavern as gently as I could.
The last corpse leapt at me, the strands no longer shielding me; it pounded me with closed fists against my shield. I gritted my teeth, unable to respond, as I focused on my rod; pulling energy from it and saturating myself with quanta I could use again.
Daneath in the meantime, cleaved vines and roots, trying to prevent the plant from approaching the corpses. The plant seemed to
know, and it reacted. It moved with surprising haste to a wall and started to stretch roots and shoots into the cracks and crevasses in the rock wall. In a moment, it was now on the roof of the chamber. And while Daneath could swing and strike at it, he could not prevent its movement above him. It crawled along the roof of the cavern until it was directly above me and Iesa, when it swiftly dropped tendrils onto one of the newly fallen bodies. It then quickly sailed upwards and was absorbed into another pod.
“You have to be kidding me!” Daneath yelled and looked at me desperately.
“Keep hacking at it!” I said, and I quickly pulled on a strand, calling forth another skeletal hand, that dragged down the final pair fighting corpses. Then whispering, “Live,” I threw a coil of white stranded energy around Iesa. He then sharply inhaled and his eyes snapped open, just in time to see the newly dead corpse slam into the ground next to him. He swiftly crawled to the edge of the room, leaving his rapier behind. But he then took out his bow, and then took aim at our foe on the ceiling.
Daneath was swinging as well; while the room was tall, the plants bulk allowed Daneath to still hit it effectively. He shouted and swung with overhead chops, cleaving leaves, flowers, and vines from the plant. He quickly found a rhythm as he tore away at the foliage. As he did so, I saw that the pod that taken up a corpse was now shrinking as it absorbed the contents. Elsewhere on the plant I saw new shoots and vines form, as fast as Daneath could cut them away.
“Keep it up! It’s eating the corpses!” I shouted and I used the same incantation to tear at the monstrous plant with a skeletal hand. I kept focusing and kept the incantation going. And together it was enough; as Daneath trimmed the overgrown topiary, and Iesa peppered it with arrows we finally were doing more damage to it than it could pull corpses up from the floor to recover with.
Finally, with a loud whoop, Daneath made a single thrust, and the entire plant spasmed; its leaves quivered, and its flowers all popped open, losing petals in a burst, and vines quivered spasmodically. Finally, with a crash, the plant slammed into the floor, its bulk collapsing on itself.
We stood in the room, warily turning around waiting for the next attack, which never came. After a few tense moments we relaxed. With the flowers now dead, the air was starting to clear, and feel less humid. I leaned against a wall and relaxed a moment, as my breathing slowed to normal. As I rested, I noticed that Iesa had stopped wheezing, and was instead making normal breaths. After a moment, he walked over to me and looked me straight in the eye.
“Remind me not to give you hug in a fight again,” he said in a huff.
“I said I was sorry,” I responded a little exasperated.
“I know. I guess if I died there, Kelemvor might have to judge me right?” he asked.
“Well; if you died, I’d probably be next, and we’d be skipping to the crystal spire together.”
“Yeah?” said Daneath. “I’m sure that ‘she let me become plant food,’ would look good on your permanent accomplishments to your deity.”
“I guess it eliminates the grave digger as a middleman,” I said sardonically.
“Well, thanks…I think,” Iesa said a bit more sympathetically, coughing again into his hand. “Although not sure what hurt more, that black stuff or that scream. But are you ok?”
I nodded yes, “I’m stretched to the rakers, but I’ll be alright after a breather.”
--Hey Myr?
Yes Gos?
--There’s a hole here, and stuff below.
Stuff?
--Like a campsite.
“What the?” I said aloud and looked for the tressym. At the back of the cave, in the area that was blocked off by the deadly plant, there was a hole that descended into another cavern. I walked over, and the brothers followed me in surprise, until they too saw the hole. We all three stood looking down, and Daneath shined his shield into the depths.
Below we saw it was another cave with a second exit, leading deeper into the caves. But on one side there was a circle of stone, a bedroll, and the remains of cooking gear. Without saying a word, Iesa whipped out a rope and started to knot it for easy climbing. Daneath took out a piton and quickly nailed into place and soon we were looking around the campsite.
It was stocked for a long stay, small crates of rations, a fishing pole, and a set of clothes. A pile of driftwood was stacked on one end, along with a hatchet. A pair of knives lay out in the open, both with the slight dusting of rust on the blades.
“A camp in a cave. Not even close to the entrance,” Daneath remarked. “This person didn’t want to be found.”
Iesa looked around the campsite a bit, “It hasn’t been used for a bit,” and he stifled a cough. “But they planned to stay a while; a lot of wood and torches.”
“Not exactly an inspiring tale of treasures,” Daneath commented as he nudged the remaining crates with his boot.
I knelt down by the bedroll. Looking carefully towards an end I found what I was looking for. There in the fibers was a grey hair. I picked it up and held it between my fingers. As I watched the hair moved like it was being blown by an intangible breeze.
“It’s Eridan’s,” I said holding the solitary hair up for the pair to see. “He was hiding here. And with hair like this and I bet a grey complexion, we might have a ghost.”
“So where did he go?” Iesa questioned. “This camp has been abandoned for a while now; long enough for steel to start rusting.”
“You don’t think that thing…ate him?” Daneath asked uncomfortably.
“I hope not,” I said. “But there is more to the cave than this. He could have moved somewhere else for all we know.”
“Well, he isn’t here, so perhaps he is…down there” and Iesa gestured towards the passage. It was narrow and bent towards the left.
I shrugged and said. “We have nowhere else to go.”
Goss—
--Watch your back. Watch your back. I know what to do.
At least one of us does.
Daneath nodded and lead the way with his shield in front. The passage was narrow, so I found myself leading Iesa through the cave, with his hand on my shoulder. With Daneath’s bulk in front of me I couldn’t see much. But this cave was tighter than the others we had stumbled through before. Even the passages above felt more open than where I found myself.
On edge I continued behind Daneath, painfully aware of the close walls, the sound of my own breath, and the occasional cough behind me. It was then when I could detect a fair odor in the air, salt.
“There is an opening somewhere,” I said.
I heard Daneath take a sniff of the air. “Yeah, I smell it too. It’s not strong, but there is another entrance to this cave somewhere.”
“A sea cave maybe,” Iesa quickly said before coughing. “There are some in the north near Waterdeep.”
” The passage opens up ahead, but I can’t see how large the room ahead is,” Daneath commented, as he readied his blade, readying himself for threats unknown.
We stepped into a cavern, in the shape of a bean, with us at one end. The scent of sea air was stronger now, but it wasn’t close yet. As I exited the narrow passageway, I saw that the cave was devoid of stalagmites or stalactites. But the room wasn’t empty either.
Crates and boxes lined the walls. Some where in decent condition, while others were broken shells, their contents long gone. All of them the size that a could be easily moved by two people. Several jutted out from the wall at irregular intervals, while some along the walls were stacked two and three crates high. I then noticed that there was a table halfway between the two passages, and just offset from the wall on my left. On it an oil lamp, a pitcher and some cups scattered across the top, while four stools were scattered on the floor around it.
Frowning, I wondered if this was a smugglers cave. Or was this the so-called treasure, that Hilberts had mentioned in a drunken haze. I then turned to ask a Iesa question, when he put his finger to his lips, and then pointed at the table with his rapier.
I turned to look at the table again, confused. I stared at it, trying to understand what spooked Iesa. Then I groaned inwardly, when I saw from the lamp the wisps of smoke escape the glass bell.
Iesa then moved quietly, I could see his face straining to contain another cough. He crouched down by a crate and I watched him cock his head listening. I stepped to my right raising my shield in front of me, pulling together some strands in preparation.
Daneath stepped forward towards the table; his stance indicated that he too saw the smoke and expected trouble. He was not surprised, when several figures swiftly rose from behind the crates and quarrels flew at Daneath and I. There were perhaps eight or ten of themn. Daneath’s shield rang with the sound of a pair of bolts bouncing off the metal as did a trio off of my own, while others just sailed into the cavern wall behind us.
But once they appeared, I snapped the strands I was working. The sounds of crates, the lamp glass and bone cracking and screams of pain carried throughout the cave. I felt that disturbing wave of excitement and euphoria as the sounds washed over me. One of the figures had manage to duck behind the crate partially avoiding my spell. He drew a dark metal blade and rushed at me.
But he never saw Iesa. In fact I don’t think any of them did, as Iesa quickly stabbed the running figure in the side causing a spray of dark blood to burst forth as it stumbled and rolled into a lifeless heap in front of me. I looked down at the figure and gasped at what I saw.
It fallen foe was a male I surmised on the face, but the features were clearly elven. High cheekbones, small squared chin, and pointed ears marked him as an elf. But the red eyes, the obsidian skin and white hair gave away his heritage.
“Dharrow?” I said the elvish word for the Drow to myself in confusion. I was blankly staring at the fallen elf. Meanwhile Daneath, chopped his blade into two more, felling each, while Iesa killed another one, already badly wounded by the cacophony of my incantation.
And just like that the fight was over. Daneath looked around and sighed.
"You made quite the mess Myr,” he said mockingly. “I’m not sure whose body part belongs who now.”
Iesa now bent down looking at one of the corpses, “Drow. Here? On the Nelanther isles?”
“One or maybe two might be outcasts or something like that one we saw in Yartar,” Daneath started as he looked over the room. “But nine? Nine males? I would guess there is a passage to the Underdark here.”
“Either of you hurt?” I asked as knelt to look at the face of the dead drow. It was handsome as I would have expected any elf. I remembered something Arnara said about them.
We were lounging on the divans at the house, on a moonless night. The stars overhead shone above us in the firmament, and I remembered saying how beautiful they were. Arnara nodded and then said something to me.
“The moonless nights are sometimes seen as bad luck to the elves, for it is nights like this that Drow creep up and take slaves down below. Not here fortunately, but other places they have been known to carry out raids.”
“What are they…like?” I asked curiously.
“A beautiful and twisted dark mirror of
Tel’Quessir,” she said with a note of disdain on her lips. “Banished from the sun, and marked as creatures of darkness., their beauty marred for all eternity by their cruelty. The women, the matriarchs’ rule, and everyone else is a slave, a tool, or a sacrifice. Including the men. Especially the men.”
“We’re fine Myr, but these Drow are odd,” Daneath said.
“What do you mean?” I said unable to tear my eyes away as I looked at the dead drow with a morbid curiosity as I slowly felt the euphoria of the fight wearing off.
“They are dressed…much like Hiberts,” Daneath pointed out. “I always heard that drow had special weapons and armor. These are wearing homespun tunics and rough leather, and the swords aren’t great quality.”
“Anything in the crates?” I asked, looking at iesa who was rummaging already in the stacks.
“Not really,” he said poking inside several with his rapier. “Some hard tack and some water. Anything valuable isn’t here.”
“Well, let’s keep going,” Daneath said his voice on edge. “We were lucky. They saw us coming, they have better vision than Iesa and I in the dark.”
“Did you want me to lead?” I asked. Daneath looked conflicted for a moment before shaking his head.
“No, the light would still give us away, and I’m ready for a melee. I mean, I know you can take care of yourself,” he stammered a bit awkwardly.
I smiled, “Look I’d rather heal you than myself. But I’m staying close anyway.”
Daneath nodded, and hefted his shield in front of him again, and we started down the passage. It was wider than the prior one, and it kept turning towards the right. Very soon, we found ourselves in a large grotto. The passage had deposited us on a broad ledge, overlooking a broad flat floor. The cave walls and ceiling were worn smooth. The smell of the sea was stronger here, and now we could finally hear the sea itself crashing upon rock, echoing in the passage. But more exciting, was dim ray of sunlight coming from a passage on the floor. From where we stood there was a ramp of natural stone that descended to the floor of the grotto.
We tread carefully down the smooth stone and discovered there was more to the grotto as there was a passage leading below the ledge and descending into the rock. But we also found pressed against the base of the ledge, bedrolls, fire rings and benches and stools. The were all clustered around the passage that descended deeper. Once on the floor of the cavern, and in full view of the camp I started counting beds.
“There must be more around somewhere,” Daneath said. “I count fifteen bedrolls.”
“Sixteen,” I corrected. “And there are probably more down in that passage.”
“Why do you think that?” Daneath asked looking at me puzzled.
“They are clustered close to that opening,” and I leveled my rod towards the lower passage. If they were worried about something coming up, they would be arranged differently. So, for them it’s safe.”
“I’ll take a look and see if we are alone then,” Iesa said and before we could stop him, he crept into the camp. As I watched him place his back to the ledge’s base, I fished out some copper wire from my pouch and focused on using a stand to talk with him.
Isea! Be careful. You can’t see down there.
==I’ll be fine Myr. I don’t have the light with me, and they’ll never hear me.
Iesa then started to move cautiously towards the passage. He looked around at the various elements of the camp, nudging them with a boot occasionally. Finally, he reached the passage, and then he leaned his head to look down it as we watched. Then he crossed in front of it, heading to the other half of the camp.
<<THWIP!>>
The sound of the crossbow was barely audible. Iesa gripped his side, and started to rush to the otherside, when he stumbled and fell. From where I stood, I could see him twitching and spasming on the floor.
“Son of a—” Daneath readied his blade and looked ready to charge into the cave.
“Hold it,” I whispered and put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s been poisoned; and they probably have more ready for you.”
Daneath looked at me in surprise, “What you propose leaving him?”
“No,” I chided. “They just can’t shoot what they can’t see. Stay here.” I took about four steps forward, pulling a piece of coal out and whispering some words. To my eyes nothing changed, but I knew that I summoned a shroud of inky blackness around me. I then strode confidently towards the fallen rogue.
Iesa was still twitching on the ground when I approached. I knew that the shroud covered the entire entrance as well as Iesa. I knelt next to him, and found the crossbow bolt and pulled it free, while pressing down on the wound with Iesa’s shirt. Turning to look down the passage, I saw that it opened into another chamber. But in front of it was a barricade, and I could see four more figures crouched behind them, men with white hair. They were armed with more crossbows cocked and ready. I watched them look each other in confusion.
Feeling bold I called out to them in elvish, “I can see all four of you, and I know you can’t see me. Do you normally shoot first and introduce yourselves afterwards?”
I could see the figures react in surprise, and some hurried whispers, before one of them called out.
“Most aren’t foolish enough into enter here, female,” the last word spoken with a tone of contempt. But he also didn’t use the word for female elf I noticed.
“So, you keep up appearances of ghosts to scare the locals?” I asked.
“Superstitious sailors tales have little to do with it. Reefers know to stay away from the caves. Any cave. We heard you slaughtering our brothers, we have rights to kill you all.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I said trying to sound important. “You shot first and paid the price. Shoot again, and the price will be double. I will slaughter you in the darkness you so covet, and you will never see your doom coming.” I was nervous, hoping my voice didn’t waver. “But I’ll tell you what; I’ll ignore you shooting my friend, if you answer a question. Then we will depart and forget what happened here.”
“What question?” the drow spat.
“Have you seen a ghost of a man, grey hair waving in the breeze?”
“We know of him; you might ask in town at the casino,” came the answer. “Now leave. You aren’t wanted here.”
I started to shake Iesa, trying to rouse him from his stupor. Surprisingly, he responded and shook his head in confusion. I could hear the distressed sounds of Mo in his pack, disturbed by the darkness, and fall.
“Wha…I can’t see.”
“Shhhh,” I hushed him. I then whispered. “I’m covering us, so they can’t shoot us. Let us get out of here.” Then I called out the Drow.
“We’re leaving. I suggest not following us.” I ordered, and I then led Iesa away from the entrance. When were ten paces away, I dropped it and we quickly rejoined Daneath.
“I heard, more below I take it,” Daneath said.
I nodded affirmatively, “Yes. I’m guessing outcasts; they didn’t care for me being a woman.”
“Makes sense,” he nodded and then knitted his brow, “And what was that about a casino?”
“Eridan might be found there, or at least knowledge of him.” I answered. “In the meantime, let’s get out of here.”
----
We retraced our steps and exited through the upper cave. The sun was getting lower in the sky, but the heat seemed even greater. We trudged down the path back to the dune and surf. It seemed that we had little choice but to enter the pirate enclave. I wasn’t looking forward to doing this, and I was unsure on how we might approach it. But I didn’t get much time to consider it, when from above I heard a sound.
“Beeepooo, beeepooo, beeepooo” Foggle said as it swooped down and circled us.
“What is wrong with him, “Daneath asked. Looking at the mechanical bird.
Iesa looked around casually, and then did so with more urgency. “Hey, Hiberts and Beepu.” He turned to look at me with concern.
“They’re gone!”
Session notes:
The encounter was hard being “short a short man” did make it a strain, with no one really at full capacity.
Also, the particular game was very very magic poor. Including potions. So, other source of firepower or recovery was lacking.
