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Journal of the Souls of Legend (completed)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 7856443" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>The Pool of Refuge</strong>.<strong> - 11/19/2019</strong></p> <p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>Pure water is more valuable than ale in Sigil, and much harder to find. So, there is a mystique about how water is a cure for almost all ills. How the taste of nothing is a sign of quality. How it washes away our tears and filth so easily.</em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em></em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>So, the greatest store of water is in the bathing pools of the Great Gymnasium. And there, if you are lucky, can get all the ills cured for a princely sum in the private baths.</em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em></em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>But in Sigil, every so often, everyone can wash away their troubles for free. You just have to put up with a lot of filth until that day comes.</em></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Iesa came in the tower, with a key in hand. “It wasn’t on that…thing, but I found it in the tent. So, if you give me a moment…” and Iesa quickly sprung open the lock.</p><p></p><p>The highborn now freed, stood up, and slowly made his way outside. The sun had just touched the horizon and the warm orange glow was spreading across the sky, and the few clouds as well. Daneath was bent over Beepu, who was laid down on the earth, with Daneath’s cloak acting as a pillow. Beepu’s clothes were stained in his own blood, and his shirt was torn in many places. His face was pale, and his breathing shallow.</p><p></p><p>The highborn noticed the injured gnome and frowned. “There were more goblins here before,” he began, “and they will return. I know of a safe place near.”</p><p></p><p>“We should be careful so they can’t track us,” Iesa said concerned, already looking around for a surprise attack.</p><p></p><p>Pathhorn nodded, “Indeed. But I will conceal us. No worg or goblin will follow us,” And I saw the highborn close its eyes and whisper something into the air. He then bent over and carefully lifted and cradled the gnome in his arms. Turning to look at the three of us he spoke again</p><p></p><p>“Follow swiftly,” and the highborn started to lope into the brush. We barely had a moment to look at each other, before we found ourselves running to catch Pathhorn. Iesa and I were close behind, and Daneath was clattering behind in his armor. In truth, Pathhorn was clearly not running at full speed and was not trying to lose us in the brush. But the pace was a bit more than brisk.</p><p></p><p>The sun had just set, and the light in the sky was fading into deeper and deeper shades of violet when Pathhorn finally slowed down. We were walking into a thick copse of trees. The undergrowth was thick, with the bracken as tall as I. We threaded our way carefully, following the highborn, when suddenly, we found ourselves in a glade.</p><p></p><p>There were few trees within it, but oaks that lined the edges, provided a broad canopy over, concealing most of the sky above. The bracken that choked the woods before, was replaced by a carpet of moss. The clearing was shielded on one side by a rock face, that opened into a shallow grotto. Below the grotto, was a stick stand of cattails, that surrounded a pool. In the sky, the moon Selune hung, and its light filtered through a break in the canopy above, scattering across the water.</p><p></p><p>I slowly walked into this place that we were led in awe. I had that same feeling when I was in the presence of the Elk spirit. A feeling that this was sacred and primal. As I stood there, drinking in the sight, Pathhorn carried Beepu to the grotto. The stone floor had what looked like matts of soft leaves and moss. The highborn lay the gnome gently upon one, and moved to the rear of the grotto, where a small shelf of stone held a number of bowls. Pathhorn, grabbed one and moved towards some shrubs near the entrance. As he did so, I knelt next to the gnome.</p><p></p><p>His injuries were bad, with many tears in his flesh from the barghest. I focused a moment and pulled some energy from the light strands and started to clean away the blood and repair his clothes. Iesa and Daneath approached me as I worked.</p><p></p><p>“Will he live?” Daneath asked.</p><p></p><p>I nodded, “I can’t do more for him right now, but I will later.” I heard the Hightborn approach, and I turned to look at Pathhorn. “Thank you for guiding us here.”</p><p></p><p>“Assisting each other against a common foe is expected; I am thankful that Silvanus saw to it that we found each other,” he said with the barest smile. He then gestured around him, “You are welcome to stay here and rest. But do not leave the clearing; you might not be able to return.”</p><p></p><p>We nodded, and then Daneath asked, “So…the elves said they had lost contact with the highborn. We didn’t think we would find one.”</p><p></p><p>Pathhorn frowned “We are few in number, and the hobgoblins harassment unceasing. Most of us have returned to the Feywild to ride out the storm.”</p><p></p><p>“Most?” Iesa said puzzled. “So, there <strong><em>are</em></strong> others…where are they?”</p><p></p><p>Pathhorn stared and regarded the lean man for a moment before speaking again. “I am not certain, but I suspect more mischief from the hobgoblins. And I intend to find out.”</p><p></p><p>“Can we help in any way?” Iesa pressed.</p><p></p><p>Again, Pathhorn was quiet a moment as he regarded each of us before shaking his head. “No, the distance I must travel is far and you would not be able to keep up the pace. I must continue alone.” He then looked at me, “You had questions about the Temple of the Fallen as I recall.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes...yes we did. We saw that the hobgoblins have taken it, and…” I paused trying to gather my thoughts together in a way that made sense.</p><p></p><p>The highborn arched an eyebrow and waited.</p><p></p><p>“…well find out what they wanted, and perhaps see if there is another way in.”</p><p></p><p>Pathhorn nodded, “The leader of this band tried to question me. He was interested in something inside the temple. In short, he was seeking knowledge of the Grand Font deep within.”</p><p></p><p>“What is that?” Iesa asked.</p><p></p><p>“The temple is old. It was built as the final rest for the elves and fey that fought in the Fourth Crown War. It was the end of this war that saw the great verdant forest burned away, leaving what you call today ‘The High Moors.’ But the valiant of the Fey and the Elves were laid to rest at the Temple. Many thousands of years past, and the Elven kingdoms of old fell away, and new ones arose. But here in the Misty Forest, only the wood elves, and some moon elves remained. Many left Faerun in the retreat, and most forgot the temple.”</p><p></p><p>“But what does that have to do with the ‘Great Font’?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“I have never seen it, but it was a pool that cleansed the spirits of the stain of that war. And while it stripped away the filth from the souls, that same filth and corruption remain below. As to why the hobgoblins seek it, I do not know.”</p><p></p><p>“Wait, the elves said that you were the keepers.” Daneath stated trying to understand what had happened.</p><p></p><p>“No; we honor our fallen and keep others out. We do nothing more. And recently we have done less, as we return to the Feywild.” Pathhorn said.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I don’t suppose you know a way into Temple that doesn’t involve fighting through the encampment above?” I asked hoping.</p><p></p><p>“There is. There are two,” and we all leaned forward with interest.</p><p></p><p>“The first, lies in a crevice of rock, near the top of the falls. There the elven priests lived and had a passage that led to the middle levels of the temple. It was secured with a secret password, known to the priests. The second was built later, because of events.”</p><p></p><p>“Events?” Daneath asked. “What changed?”</p><p></p><p>“Once the Font became…corrupted, it was feared that the Ilythiiri, what you call Drow now, would seek to use this corruption for ill. The Temple became fortified. Deep below, a portal was created as an escape route in case the upper halls fell, so the guardians could warn others. I have never seen that portal either.”</p><p></p><p>Pathhorn, looked up at the sky and that the moon that peeked between the leaves and branches, before continuing. “But, the ages past and Ilefarn’s fragmentation and fall, the purpose of the temple became lost. Some, such as the highborn, remember as does Melendrach and some of the sages of his court. But for most others, the truth is hidden.”</p><p></p><p>“Do you know the password to access the halls?” Daneath asked.</p><p></p><p>The highborn was silent before giving a deep sigh. “Yes. But, I am torn; I should discharge my duty and stop them. But I have a duty to our people to help them. It should not be your task.”</p><p></p><p>“If we cannot help your people, let us help here.” I said. “We already are helping the elves…so doing this is a small matter. And as someone recently said ‘Assisting each other against a common foe is expected’”</p><p></p><p>Pathhorn nodded with a smile. “So, I did. The password is simple; ‘<em>Gathen thyr kollas’</em> spoken at the runic circle in the crevice will allow you to pass through the rock. Beyond that…I do not know the path below. You will be on your own.”</p><p></p><p>“Our thanks, Pathhorn.” Daneath said.</p><p></p><p>Pathhorn stretched, “I have gathered some food for the evening, that will prepare for us all. After that I must ready myself for the long journey ahead before I rest.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course,” I said. “We and our small menagerie will try to keep things quiet. One small question; is this place sacred or...”</p><p></p><p>“This? It is a simple refuge for highborn travelling. It is concealed, but it is not a place of worship. For us, all the wild is. And you mentioned a menagerie. Did you have other tressym?”</p><p></p><p>“No…a monkey,” I gesturing to Iesa’s pack, where I could see a nervous Mo’s eyes staring at the highborn, “and a mechanical…owl?” I looked around suddenly. “Where is Foggle?”</p><p></p><p>“I haven’t seen him since that goblin worg thing,” Iesa said. “I don’t remember him following us.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah…that…thing.” Pathhorn said with a frown. “Unnatural, and I did not know it was with you. I am afraid it might be a bit lost. Excuse me, as I gather some things.” And Pathhorn moved to the edge of the grotto.</p><p></p><p>I looked down at the sleeping gnome, “Well, I guess I have enough energy to heal Beepu; he’ll know what to do.”</p><p></p><p>I laid my hand on Beepu and pulled on a white strand within me. I then channeled it into Beepu’s form, and I could feel the wounds close throughout him. His breathing quickened and his eyes opened, and he lurched forward with a start.</p><p></p><p>“What? Ouch…I hurt. Sore. Where are we?” Beepu spoke with confusion on his face.</p><p></p><p>“What do you last remember?” Iesa asked.</p><p></p><p>“I remember a lot of drool, bad breath, and the world spinning. It was that worg was it not?”</p><p></p><p>“Not exactly. It appears we fended off a barghest, not a worg.” I said looking Beepu over.</p><p></p><p>“What’s a barghest?” Daneath asked.</p><p></p><p>“A fiend.” I said. “It will devour souls, but it usually is sent to the Prime to feed on goblin souls. Sometimes they’ll snack on others.”</p><p></p><p>“Feed on s…wait, shouldn’t it be a foe of goblins then?”</p><p></p><p>I shrugged, “It’s a demiplane. Why it was doing what it was is a mystery.”</p><p></p><p>“I see…I hurt. I need some rest,” and I watched him snap his fingers, and suddenly Foggle appeared in a puff of blue sparks. He then laid down. Then he frowned, “But I am hungry. I should eat something first.”</p><p></p><p>“Indeed,” and Pathhorn held out a bowl, with what looked to be raspberries, but each was the size of a large acorn. “These fruits are enchanted not to ever spoil and to fill your need of food for a day. Eat one tonight and save the rest for when your need is dire.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes! That is excellent advice. You see, you should all pay attention to the wise words of…” Beepu’s brows knitted a moment as he looked back and forth at Pathhorn and then at the rest of us. Finally, he straightened up and said.</p><p></p><p>“And who are you exactly?”</p><p></p><p>--------------------------------</p><p></p><p>The fruit was filling, and we each started to focus at different tasks at hand. The brothers oiled and sharpened their blades and maintained their armor. Beepu after eating, fell asleep and started to softly snore, all the while Foggle quietly spun its head looking for threats.</p><p></p><p>Pathhorn, kept to himself. I saw that had already gathered packs and satchels. Now, he was gathering tools of war; a polished bow with carved images of leaves and trees. Quivers full of arrows with broad, serrated, metal heads. Blades of different length, each curved, and now being honed to a sharp edge.</p><p></p><p>I left the cover of the grotto, and made my way in the cool air, towards the pool in the center of the glade. Gossamer fluttered along side of me, casually swooping and gliding about. I watched him, skim the surface of the pool, but with grace and precision, so his wings, tail and paws never once touched. For some reason watching him play made me smile.</p><p></p><p><em>-- So, you DO know that asking me to purr at someone I don’t know is generally considered a breach of etiquette.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Huh? How so?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>-- It’s just not right. I should know the being and should at least know if I like them first.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>What? Is there some type of manual about this?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--Of course not. It’s common sense!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>So…the fact that you were kneading him with your paws was a complete accident, or were you conveying some strange insult?”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--Oh…that…well…I guess that I needed to keep up the illusion…that…</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>That?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--Alright. I did like him. So, what are we doing here by the pool anyway?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Indulging myself.</em></p><p></p><p>Before long, my weapons, armor and other clothes were in a neat pile on the moss, and I was beneath the waters. While I knew it was months since I had a real bath, it had been even longer since I had actually swum.</p><p></p><p>That last time was a hot day in Sigil. It was nothing special or remarkable as a day, except the smell. That day, the stench from the Ditch was overwhelming. The odor could be smelt as far as the Lady’s Ward. The reason was simple; the Ditch was a river of slime, rot and garbage. Many people threw their junk into it. Many spivs threw bodies into it. All to be forgotten beneath the dark green and brown waters. And that day it was especially ripe for reasons I would rather not have explored.</p><p></p><p>But the Ditch would change once or twice a year for a day. On those days a portal would open, and the pure clean waters of the Oceanus would flood the Ditch. And in moments, the entirety of the Ditch was cleansed. It would sparkle with the filth and detritus now swept away. On days like this, everything in Sigil stopped. The markets, the forges, the shops all closed. It was all a grand holiday that rich and poor alike enjoyed. All the kids from the Gatehouse, including myself would rush and play in the waters. As time went on, I finally learned how to swim. And I fearlessly tread those waters. Waters that made your soul feel cleansed itself, as worry and toil would wash away. And you would be sharing this experience with thousands as each took their turn in the waters.</p><p></p><p>But now, I found myself shedding weapons, armor and clothes to do something I had never done before; swim alone. I stepped carefully on the rocks and soon I was submerged in the waters of the pool. To my eyes, everything flickered between dim moonlight, and brightly lit. The water felt cool to my skin, and only the smallest ripples scattered across the surface as I entered. But the most striking thing was how quiet it was. I could barely hear the lapping of water on the rocks, as I disturbed its stillness and only the faintest rustle in the branches and leaves overhead. I exhaled and let my head sink beneath the surface, and I entered a different world.</p><p></p><p>Where it was quiet before it was now almost silent, beyond a bubble or two escaping my lips, and the beat of my heart within me. I relaxed and listened to nothing as I hung in the waters, drinking in the peace and silence. Enough to quell my worried thoughts, and to still the anger I felt against the hobgoblins for what they had done. Slowly my body began to rise, and I stretched out my limbs as I broke the surface. I floated there quietly, listening, and hearing the only the sounds of my breathing. My eyes were only half open to see Selune above. I wanted to feel this way forever.</p><p></p><p>But I knew it was an illusion. A momentary respite from the goings on. I floated there in the darkness wondering when I might find respite again. But I wasn’t even sure where this all was leading. Why I was needed here? Why was this important? Why me of all people?</p><p></p><p>I closed my eyes again, listening to my breathing, and my heart underneath the water. I chased away the doubt, the fear, the uncertainty. The answers would come soon enough.</p><p></p><p>I hoped.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>I was awake at the first light, still having the habit of last watch. Seemed unneeded here, but it did give me time to look at that gemstone. After a number of hours, I realized that that it held, captured within a magical matrix, a quantity of light. And this light could create light like I did, or it could project them onto particular points. I was certain that if it was commanded to, the light could be shined into a creature’s eyes, and perhaps blind them for a time. An interesting object that could be useful at the right time. I smiled at myself for figuring this puzzle out, and I couldn’t wait to tell Beepu.</p><p></p><p>I looked over at the others; Iesa and Daneath might be brothers, but their sleeping habits were very different. Daneath preferred to lay flat on his back, while Iesa curled up on his side. Beepu was always flat on his stomach. I think I toss and turn a lot, but I tend to wake up that way. But none of them were awake yet.</p><p></p><p>My eyes turned to Gossamer, who decided to sleep on top of Pathhorn, just where the fur ended, and the elven torso started. I shook my head.</p><p></p><p><em>Traitor</em>.</p><p></p><p><em>--Huh…wha? It’s not what you think!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Really?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--You were up looking at the gem, and I was…cold! Yes! And so, Pathhorn gives off a lot of heat, so I figured tha—</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gos?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--Uh, yes?</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>I’m teasing, but we need to wake the rest.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>--Ok…ok…on it.</em></p><p></p><p>Before long we were up and getting ready to move. That included Pathhorn, who was now covered in harnesses and straps. Pouches hung from some, and blades and quivers from others.</p><p></p><p>“You look like you are going far, Pathhorn,” I said.</p><p></p><p>The highborn nodded, “Yes. It is many days travel from here.” And he turned to look at me, “And I forsee you will travel far soon as well.”</p><p></p><p>“Why do you say that?”</p><p></p><p>“Because the ‘Prophesized One,’ is far from here.”</p><p></p><p>“What? He’s not at the temple?”</p><p></p><p>“No. From the conversations I heard, he is somewhere in the High Moors. But I beyond that, I cannot say. But I am also certain you will cross paths with him.”</p><p></p><p>“We could help you and you us,” I said, but his face was still focused on his tasks at hand.</p><p></p><p>“I thank you but no <em>ha-celas</em>. And I wish you well on your journey...home.”</p><p></p><p>I nodded, and Pathhorn gathered himself, and bolted out of the grotto, and into the bracken that surrounded the glade. He seemed unaffected by the brush, and in a moment, he was gone.</p><p></p><p>Sighing I turned to the others, who were finishing up packing their gear.</p><p></p><p>“Time already…ugh.” Beepu groaned.</p><p></p><p>“Feeling better?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“Yes. I felt fine. Then you woke me up. Now I feel sore and grumpy.”</p><p></p><p>“Back to normal then, that’s good.”</p><p></p><p>“Hah hah,” the gnome spat.</p><p></p><p>“Well, the good news is we aren’t far from the entrance,” Iesa said smiling. “Hopefully, we can kill the leader and go. And that will be the end of that.”</p><p></p><p>“It’s never that simple,” Daneath said staring at Iesa. The only thing that <strong><em>is</em></strong> certain is getting back to Whitepetal.”</p><p></p><p>“What do you mean?” Beepu asked, as he absentmindedly polished Foggle.</p><p></p><p>“This,” Daneath held up an object that looked like a crystal globe, bound in silver.</p><p></p><p>“And…?” Iesa said.</p><p></p><p>“Galenas gave it to me, and he said with the right words, it will lead us back to Whitepetal.” Daneath said with a grin.</p><p></p><p>“Why you?” Beepu said archly.</p><p></p><p>“Oh…well…”</p><p></p><p>“Well what?”</p><p></p><p>“It was after you told that joke…”</p><p></p><p>I leaned over to Iesa and whispered, “What joke?”</p><p></p><p>He leaned over and said into my ear, “It was when you were below, but the joke involved comparing gnomish generations with elven ones. I didn’t get it.”</p><p></p><p>“Did the elves?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes…they did,” and Iesa winced.</p><p></p><p>“That was an excellent example of sophisticated gnomish humor,” Beepu said defensively.</p><p></p><p>Daneath spread his hands, “It must have been, because they didn’t want to burden you with such a trivial task.”</p><p></p><p>“Right. No wait, why did they give it to you? You cannot pronounce elvish correctly! I keep trying to teach you, and you just snore.”</p><p></p><p>“Because Myrai was busy…can we go?” Daneath said looking at Iesa and I helplessly.</p><p></p><p>“Let’s go,” I said trying to hide my smirk. “Iesa, care to lead?”</p><p></p><p>“The river and the upper falls should be fairly close,” Iesa said as he started to move to the edge of the glade. “We’ll probably hear it before we see it.”</p><p></p><p>“Works for me,” and Daneath jogged to catch up with Iesa, while Beepu and I followed behind. Gossamer flew a distance behind me keeping an eye out for unwelcome guests.</p><p></p><p>“I do not think he is taking me seriously. I am trying to educate him.” Beepu muttered.</p><p></p><p>“He’s more of a learn as you go, than learn by lecture type,” I said trying to mollify Beepu.</p><p></p><p>“You are probably right about him. What is your excuse?” Beepu looked at me with a squinted look.</p><p></p><p>“Look, it was a major effort to learn the other language I know. I’m not ready for that kind of commitment,” I said honestly. “Ask me when we aren’t trying to end a war with folks that speak goblin.</p><p></p><p>Beepu considered that a moment. “Goblin would be useful,” and he sent Foggle up above to help find our way to the river and the top of the falls.</p><p></p><p>Iesa was right on both counts; it was close, and we heard it first. As we approached the site, I could see the tops of ruined buildings, covered in vines and lichen. But before we actually entered the site, Beepu stopped us short.</p><p></p><p>“Goblins!” He exclaimed in a sharp whisper. Then his eyes started to defocus. Suddenly he had a look of confusion as he cocked his head to one side. “Wait…I thought they were resting, but these seem to be…dead.”</p><p></p><p>Daneath gripped his weapon tightly and took the lead from Iesa. “Well I applaud them, but it doesn’t make me feel safer.”</p><p></p><p>We crept out of the forest, and its thick undergrowth and found ourselves in what might have been a small village. Five stone structures, in varying states of ruin surrounded a well. The river passed nearby, and a stone bridge crossed it, still intact. What might have been a road or pathway leading through the village, was choked by undergrowth, but clear of trees. As we moved onto one of the pathways, we saw what Beepu spoke about earlier. Four figures lay in the center of trampled bracken, and as we approached, I became nervous.</p><p></p><p>There were flies circling around the hobgoblin corpses, but the lack of the scent of rot told me that these corpses were fresh. Blood had been not spilled, but sprayed around the foliage, and was even now slowly dripping from leaves. As we got closer, we saw that they were all marked with multiple stab wounds, like a rapier used over and over in quick succession. A couple of them had larger tears around their shoulders, and one had a snapped collarbone sticking out of his jerkin.</p><p></p><p>I knelt next to one of the bodies and looked closer at the wounds. A greenish stain was visible on the edges of the leather around the punctures. Their faces were twisted in a rictus snarl, which they still kept even as they died.</p><p></p><p>I looked up to the others and spoke quietly, “This is very recent, and I am guessing poison was used.”</p><p></p><p>Iesa also knelt down and looked at the ground. “Odd, lots of boot tracks, but I don’t see any leaving here. No animal tracks either. It’s like they slaughtered themselves.</p><p></p><p>“That can’t be right,” Daneath said agitated. “They have longswords and axes. Those leave slashes, not…signs of being poked to death.” </p><p></p><p>I stood again and looked around, feeling on edge. Something was wrong here. It felt unnatural how they died.</p><p></p><p>“Well, If we need to retreat back here, we should make sure that everything is cleared of threats,” Beepu said in a matter of fact tone. He waved his hand and Foggle started to circle above the ruins.</p><p></p><p>We headed to the center of the former village. Here, the well still stood, but the mortar that held it together had already crumbled away, and with it, part of the circle of stone had collapsed. As we looked around a moment, I saw Daneath out of the corner of my eye, move towards one of the stone buildings. The door had fallen away long ago, and I watched him peak inside.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly he moved and used his shield to block something as we heard rapid strikes make staccatos sound against it, like the sound of a bone spear on wood. He started backing up and we heard him say in terror:</p><p></p><p>“What in the hells is that!?”</p><p></p><p><strong>Session Notes:</strong></p><p></p><p>We failed persuasion check I was told, to assist the highborn. Iesa was playing ranger, without being one. All things considered, it worked out well enough.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 7856443, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]The Pool of Refuge[/B].[B] - 11/19/2019[/B] [I]Pure water is more valuable than ale in Sigil, and much harder to find. So, there is a mystique about how water is a cure for almost all ills. How the taste of nothing is a sign of quality. How it washes away our tears and filth so easily. So, the greatest store of water is in the bathing pools of the Great Gymnasium. And there, if you are lucky, can get all the ills cured for a princely sum in the private baths. But in Sigil, every so often, everyone can wash away their troubles for free. You just have to put up with a lot of filth until that day comes.[/I][/CENTER] Iesa came in the tower, with a key in hand. “It wasn’t on that…thing, but I found it in the tent. So, if you give me a moment…” and Iesa quickly sprung open the lock. The highborn now freed, stood up, and slowly made his way outside. The sun had just touched the horizon and the warm orange glow was spreading across the sky, and the few clouds as well. Daneath was bent over Beepu, who was laid down on the earth, with Daneath’s cloak acting as a pillow. Beepu’s clothes were stained in his own blood, and his shirt was torn in many places. His face was pale, and his breathing shallow. The highborn noticed the injured gnome and frowned. “There were more goblins here before,” he began, “and they will return. I know of a safe place near.” “We should be careful so they can’t track us,” Iesa said concerned, already looking around for a surprise attack. Pathhorn nodded, “Indeed. But I will conceal us. No worg or goblin will follow us,” And I saw the highborn close its eyes and whisper something into the air. He then bent over and carefully lifted and cradled the gnome in his arms. Turning to look at the three of us he spoke again “Follow swiftly,” and the highborn started to lope into the brush. We barely had a moment to look at each other, before we found ourselves running to catch Pathhorn. Iesa and I were close behind, and Daneath was clattering behind in his armor. In truth, Pathhorn was clearly not running at full speed and was not trying to lose us in the brush. But the pace was a bit more than brisk. The sun had just set, and the light in the sky was fading into deeper and deeper shades of violet when Pathhorn finally slowed down. We were walking into a thick copse of trees. The undergrowth was thick, with the bracken as tall as I. We threaded our way carefully, following the highborn, when suddenly, we found ourselves in a glade. There were few trees within it, but oaks that lined the edges, provided a broad canopy over, concealing most of the sky above. The bracken that choked the woods before, was replaced by a carpet of moss. The clearing was shielded on one side by a rock face, that opened into a shallow grotto. Below the grotto, was a stick stand of cattails, that surrounded a pool. In the sky, the moon Selune hung, and its light filtered through a break in the canopy above, scattering across the water. I slowly walked into this place that we were led in awe. I had that same feeling when I was in the presence of the Elk spirit. A feeling that this was sacred and primal. As I stood there, drinking in the sight, Pathhorn carried Beepu to the grotto. The stone floor had what looked like matts of soft leaves and moss. The highborn lay the gnome gently upon one, and moved to the rear of the grotto, where a small shelf of stone held a number of bowls. Pathhorn, grabbed one and moved towards some shrubs near the entrance. As he did so, I knelt next to the gnome. His injuries were bad, with many tears in his flesh from the barghest. I focused a moment and pulled some energy from the light strands and started to clean away the blood and repair his clothes. Iesa and Daneath approached me as I worked. “Will he live?” Daneath asked. I nodded, “I can’t do more for him right now, but I will later.” I heard the Hightborn approach, and I turned to look at Pathhorn. “Thank you for guiding us here.” “Assisting each other against a common foe is expected; I am thankful that Silvanus saw to it that we found each other,” he said with the barest smile. He then gestured around him, “You are welcome to stay here and rest. But do not leave the clearing; you might not be able to return.” We nodded, and then Daneath asked, “So…the elves said they had lost contact with the highborn. We didn’t think we would find one.” Pathhorn frowned “We are few in number, and the hobgoblins harassment unceasing. Most of us have returned to the Feywild to ride out the storm.” “Most?” Iesa said puzzled. “So, there [B][I]are[/I][/B] others…where are they?” Pathhorn stared and regarded the lean man for a moment before speaking again. “I am not certain, but I suspect more mischief from the hobgoblins. And I intend to find out.” “Can we help in any way?” Iesa pressed. Again, Pathhorn was quiet a moment as he regarded each of us before shaking his head. “No, the distance I must travel is far and you would not be able to keep up the pace. I must continue alone.” He then looked at me, “You had questions about the Temple of the Fallen as I recall.” “Yes...yes we did. We saw that the hobgoblins have taken it, and…” I paused trying to gather my thoughts together in a way that made sense. The highborn arched an eyebrow and waited. “…well find out what they wanted, and perhaps see if there is another way in.” Pathhorn nodded, “The leader of this band tried to question me. He was interested in something inside the temple. In short, he was seeking knowledge of the Grand Font deep within.” “What is that?” Iesa asked. “The temple is old. It was built as the final rest for the elves and fey that fought in the Fourth Crown War. It was the end of this war that saw the great verdant forest burned away, leaving what you call today ‘The High Moors.’ But the valiant of the Fey and the Elves were laid to rest at the Temple. Many thousands of years past, and the Elven kingdoms of old fell away, and new ones arose. But here in the Misty Forest, only the wood elves, and some moon elves remained. Many left Faerun in the retreat, and most forgot the temple.” “But what does that have to do with the ‘Great Font’?” I asked. “I have never seen it, but it was a pool that cleansed the spirits of the stain of that war. And while it stripped away the filth from the souls, that same filth and corruption remain below. As to why the hobgoblins seek it, I do not know.” “Wait, the elves said that you were the keepers.” Daneath stated trying to understand what had happened. “No; we honor our fallen and keep others out. We do nothing more. And recently we have done less, as we return to the Feywild.” Pathhorn said. “Well, I don’t suppose you know a way into Temple that doesn’t involve fighting through the encampment above?” I asked hoping. “There is. There are two,” and we all leaned forward with interest. “The first, lies in a crevice of rock, near the top of the falls. There the elven priests lived and had a passage that led to the middle levels of the temple. It was secured with a secret password, known to the priests. The second was built later, because of events.” “Events?” Daneath asked. “What changed?” “Once the Font became…corrupted, it was feared that the Ilythiiri, what you call Drow now, would seek to use this corruption for ill. The Temple became fortified. Deep below, a portal was created as an escape route in case the upper halls fell, so the guardians could warn others. I have never seen that portal either.” Pathhorn, looked up at the sky and that the moon that peeked between the leaves and branches, before continuing. “But, the ages past and Ilefarn’s fragmentation and fall, the purpose of the temple became lost. Some, such as the highborn, remember as does Melendrach and some of the sages of his court. But for most others, the truth is hidden.” “Do you know the password to access the halls?” Daneath asked. The highborn was silent before giving a deep sigh. “Yes. But, I am torn; I should discharge my duty and stop them. But I have a duty to our people to help them. It should not be your task.” “If we cannot help your people, let us help here.” I said. “We already are helping the elves…so doing this is a small matter. And as someone recently said ‘Assisting each other against a common foe is expected’” Pathhorn nodded with a smile. “So, I did. The password is simple; ‘[I]Gathen thyr kollas’[/I] spoken at the runic circle in the crevice will allow you to pass through the rock. Beyond that…I do not know the path below. You will be on your own.” “Our thanks, Pathhorn.” Daneath said. Pathhorn stretched, “I have gathered some food for the evening, that will prepare for us all. After that I must ready myself for the long journey ahead before I rest.” “Of course,” I said. “We and our small menagerie will try to keep things quiet. One small question; is this place sacred or...” “This? It is a simple refuge for highborn travelling. It is concealed, but it is not a place of worship. For us, all the wild is. And you mentioned a menagerie. Did you have other tressym?” “No…a monkey,” I gesturing to Iesa’s pack, where I could see a nervous Mo’s eyes staring at the highborn, “and a mechanical…owl?” I looked around suddenly. “Where is Foggle?” “I haven’t seen him since that goblin worg thing,” Iesa said. “I don’t remember him following us.” “Ah…that…thing.” Pathhorn said with a frown. “Unnatural, and I did not know it was with you. I am afraid it might be a bit lost. Excuse me, as I gather some things.” And Pathhorn moved to the edge of the grotto. I looked down at the sleeping gnome, “Well, I guess I have enough energy to heal Beepu; he’ll know what to do.” I laid my hand on Beepu and pulled on a white strand within me. I then channeled it into Beepu’s form, and I could feel the wounds close throughout him. His breathing quickened and his eyes opened, and he lurched forward with a start. “What? Ouch…I hurt. Sore. Where are we?” Beepu spoke with confusion on his face. “What do you last remember?” Iesa asked. “I remember a lot of drool, bad breath, and the world spinning. It was that worg was it not?” “Not exactly. It appears we fended off a barghest, not a worg.” I said looking Beepu over. “What’s a barghest?” Daneath asked. “A fiend.” I said. “It will devour souls, but it usually is sent to the Prime to feed on goblin souls. Sometimes they’ll snack on others.” “Feed on s…wait, shouldn’t it be a foe of goblins then?” I shrugged, “It’s a demiplane. Why it was doing what it was is a mystery.” “I see…I hurt. I need some rest,” and I watched him snap his fingers, and suddenly Foggle appeared in a puff of blue sparks. He then laid down. Then he frowned, “But I am hungry. I should eat something first.” “Indeed,” and Pathhorn held out a bowl, with what looked to be raspberries, but each was the size of a large acorn. “These fruits are enchanted not to ever spoil and to fill your need of food for a day. Eat one tonight and save the rest for when your need is dire.” “Yes! That is excellent advice. You see, you should all pay attention to the wise words of…” Beepu’s brows knitted a moment as he looked back and forth at Pathhorn and then at the rest of us. Finally, he straightened up and said. “And who are you exactly?” -------------------------------- The fruit was filling, and we each started to focus at different tasks at hand. The brothers oiled and sharpened their blades and maintained their armor. Beepu after eating, fell asleep and started to softly snore, all the while Foggle quietly spun its head looking for threats. Pathhorn, kept to himself. I saw that had already gathered packs and satchels. Now, he was gathering tools of war; a polished bow with carved images of leaves and trees. Quivers full of arrows with broad, serrated, metal heads. Blades of different length, each curved, and now being honed to a sharp edge. I left the cover of the grotto, and made my way in the cool air, towards the pool in the center of the glade. Gossamer fluttered along side of me, casually swooping and gliding about. I watched him, skim the surface of the pool, but with grace and precision, so his wings, tail and paws never once touched. For some reason watching him play made me smile. [I]-- So, you DO know that asking me to purr at someone I don’t know is generally considered a breach of etiquette. Huh? How so? -- It’s just not right. I should know the being and should at least know if I like them first. What? Is there some type of manual about this? --Of course not. It’s common sense! So…the fact that you were kneading him with your paws was a complete accident, or were you conveying some strange insult?” --Oh…that…well…I guess that I needed to keep up the illusion…that… That? --Alright. I did like him. So, what are we doing here by the pool anyway? Indulging myself.[/I] Before long, my weapons, armor and other clothes were in a neat pile on the moss, and I was beneath the waters. While I knew it was months since I had a real bath, it had been even longer since I had actually swum. That last time was a hot day in Sigil. It was nothing special or remarkable as a day, except the smell. That day, the stench from the Ditch was overwhelming. The odor could be smelt as far as the Lady’s Ward. The reason was simple; the Ditch was a river of slime, rot and garbage. Many people threw their junk into it. Many spivs threw bodies into it. All to be forgotten beneath the dark green and brown waters. And that day it was especially ripe for reasons I would rather not have explored. But the Ditch would change once or twice a year for a day. On those days a portal would open, and the pure clean waters of the Oceanus would flood the Ditch. And in moments, the entirety of the Ditch was cleansed. It would sparkle with the filth and detritus now swept away. On days like this, everything in Sigil stopped. The markets, the forges, the shops all closed. It was all a grand holiday that rich and poor alike enjoyed. All the kids from the Gatehouse, including myself would rush and play in the waters. As time went on, I finally learned how to swim. And I fearlessly tread those waters. Waters that made your soul feel cleansed itself, as worry and toil would wash away. And you would be sharing this experience with thousands as each took their turn in the waters. But now, I found myself shedding weapons, armor and clothes to do something I had never done before; swim alone. I stepped carefully on the rocks and soon I was submerged in the waters of the pool. To my eyes, everything flickered between dim moonlight, and brightly lit. The water felt cool to my skin, and only the smallest ripples scattered across the surface as I entered. But the most striking thing was how quiet it was. I could barely hear the lapping of water on the rocks, as I disturbed its stillness and only the faintest rustle in the branches and leaves overhead. I exhaled and let my head sink beneath the surface, and I entered a different world. Where it was quiet before it was now almost silent, beyond a bubble or two escaping my lips, and the beat of my heart within me. I relaxed and listened to nothing as I hung in the waters, drinking in the peace and silence. Enough to quell my worried thoughts, and to still the anger I felt against the hobgoblins for what they had done. Slowly my body began to rise, and I stretched out my limbs as I broke the surface. I floated there quietly, listening, and hearing the only the sounds of my breathing. My eyes were only half open to see Selune above. I wanted to feel this way forever. But I knew it was an illusion. A momentary respite from the goings on. I floated there in the darkness wondering when I might find respite again. But I wasn’t even sure where this all was leading. Why I was needed here? Why was this important? Why me of all people? I closed my eyes again, listening to my breathing, and my heart underneath the water. I chased away the doubt, the fear, the uncertainty. The answers would come soon enough. I hoped. --------------------------------------------- I was awake at the first light, still having the habit of last watch. Seemed unneeded here, but it did give me time to look at that gemstone. After a number of hours, I realized that that it held, captured within a magical matrix, a quantity of light. And this light could create light like I did, or it could project them onto particular points. I was certain that if it was commanded to, the light could be shined into a creature’s eyes, and perhaps blind them for a time. An interesting object that could be useful at the right time. I smiled at myself for figuring this puzzle out, and I couldn’t wait to tell Beepu. I looked over at the others; Iesa and Daneath might be brothers, but their sleeping habits were very different. Daneath preferred to lay flat on his back, while Iesa curled up on his side. Beepu was always flat on his stomach. I think I toss and turn a lot, but I tend to wake up that way. But none of them were awake yet. My eyes turned to Gossamer, who decided to sleep on top of Pathhorn, just where the fur ended, and the elven torso started. I shook my head. [I]Traitor[/I]. [I]--Huh…wha? It’s not what you think! Really? --You were up looking at the gem, and I was…cold! Yes! And so, Pathhorn gives off a lot of heat, so I figured tha— Gos? --Uh, yes? I’m teasing, but we need to wake the rest. --Ok…ok…on it.[/I] Before long we were up and getting ready to move. That included Pathhorn, who was now covered in harnesses and straps. Pouches hung from some, and blades and quivers from others. “You look like you are going far, Pathhorn,” I said. The highborn nodded, “Yes. It is many days travel from here.” And he turned to look at me, “And I forsee you will travel far soon as well.” “Why do you say that?” “Because the ‘Prophesized One,’ is far from here.” “What? He’s not at the temple?” “No. From the conversations I heard, he is somewhere in the High Moors. But I beyond that, I cannot say. But I am also certain you will cross paths with him.” “We could help you and you us,” I said, but his face was still focused on his tasks at hand. “I thank you but no [I]ha-celas[/I]. And I wish you well on your journey...home.” I nodded, and Pathhorn gathered himself, and bolted out of the grotto, and into the bracken that surrounded the glade. He seemed unaffected by the brush, and in a moment, he was gone. Sighing I turned to the others, who were finishing up packing their gear. “Time already…ugh.” Beepu groaned. “Feeling better?” I asked. “Yes. I felt fine. Then you woke me up. Now I feel sore and grumpy.” “Back to normal then, that’s good.” “Hah hah,” the gnome spat. “Well, the good news is we aren’t far from the entrance,” Iesa said smiling. “Hopefully, we can kill the leader and go. And that will be the end of that.” “It’s never that simple,” Daneath said staring at Iesa. The only thing that [B][I]is[/I][/B] certain is getting back to Whitepetal.” “What do you mean?” Beepu asked, as he absentmindedly polished Foggle. “This,” Daneath held up an object that looked like a crystal globe, bound in silver. “And…?” Iesa said. “Galenas gave it to me, and he said with the right words, it will lead us back to Whitepetal.” Daneath said with a grin. “Why you?” Beepu said archly. “Oh…well…” “Well what?” “It was after you told that joke…” I leaned over to Iesa and whispered, “What joke?” He leaned over and said into my ear, “It was when you were below, but the joke involved comparing gnomish generations with elven ones. I didn’t get it.” “Did the elves?” “Yes…they did,” and Iesa winced. “That was an excellent example of sophisticated gnomish humor,” Beepu said defensively. Daneath spread his hands, “It must have been, because they didn’t want to burden you with such a trivial task.” “Right. No wait, why did they give it to you? You cannot pronounce elvish correctly! I keep trying to teach you, and you just snore.” “Because Myrai was busy…can we go?” Daneath said looking at Iesa and I helplessly. “Let’s go,” I said trying to hide my smirk. “Iesa, care to lead?” “The river and the upper falls should be fairly close,” Iesa said as he started to move to the edge of the glade. “We’ll probably hear it before we see it.” “Works for me,” and Daneath jogged to catch up with Iesa, while Beepu and I followed behind. Gossamer flew a distance behind me keeping an eye out for unwelcome guests. “I do not think he is taking me seriously. I am trying to educate him.” Beepu muttered. “He’s more of a learn as you go, than learn by lecture type,” I said trying to mollify Beepu. “You are probably right about him. What is your excuse?” Beepu looked at me with a squinted look. “Look, it was a major effort to learn the other language I know. I’m not ready for that kind of commitment,” I said honestly. “Ask me when we aren’t trying to end a war with folks that speak goblin. Beepu considered that a moment. “Goblin would be useful,” and he sent Foggle up above to help find our way to the river and the top of the falls. Iesa was right on both counts; it was close, and we heard it first. As we approached the site, I could see the tops of ruined buildings, covered in vines and lichen. But before we actually entered the site, Beepu stopped us short. “Goblins!” He exclaimed in a sharp whisper. Then his eyes started to defocus. Suddenly he had a look of confusion as he cocked his head to one side. “Wait…I thought they were resting, but these seem to be…dead.” Daneath gripped his weapon tightly and took the lead from Iesa. “Well I applaud them, but it doesn’t make me feel safer.” We crept out of the forest, and its thick undergrowth and found ourselves in what might have been a small village. Five stone structures, in varying states of ruin surrounded a well. The river passed nearby, and a stone bridge crossed it, still intact. What might have been a road or pathway leading through the village, was choked by undergrowth, but clear of trees. As we moved onto one of the pathways, we saw what Beepu spoke about earlier. Four figures lay in the center of trampled bracken, and as we approached, I became nervous. There were flies circling around the hobgoblin corpses, but the lack of the scent of rot told me that these corpses were fresh. Blood had been not spilled, but sprayed around the foliage, and was even now slowly dripping from leaves. As we got closer, we saw that they were all marked with multiple stab wounds, like a rapier used over and over in quick succession. A couple of them had larger tears around their shoulders, and one had a snapped collarbone sticking out of his jerkin. I knelt next to one of the bodies and looked closer at the wounds. A greenish stain was visible on the edges of the leather around the punctures. Their faces were twisted in a rictus snarl, which they still kept even as they died. I looked up to the others and spoke quietly, “This is very recent, and I am guessing poison was used.” Iesa also knelt down and looked at the ground. “Odd, lots of boot tracks, but I don’t see any leaving here. No animal tracks either. It’s like they slaughtered themselves. “That can’t be right,” Daneath said agitated. “They have longswords and axes. Those leave slashes, not…signs of being poked to death.” I stood again and looked around, feeling on edge. Something was wrong here. It felt unnatural how they died. “Well, If we need to retreat back here, we should make sure that everything is cleared of threats,” Beepu said in a matter of fact tone. He waved his hand and Foggle started to circle above the ruins. We headed to the center of the former village. Here, the well still stood, but the mortar that held it together had already crumbled away, and with it, part of the circle of stone had collapsed. As we looked around a moment, I saw Daneath out of the corner of my eye, move towards one of the stone buildings. The door had fallen away long ago, and I watched him peak inside. Suddenly he moved and used his shield to block something as we heard rapid strikes make staccatos sound against it, like the sound of a bone spear on wood. He started backing up and we heard him say in terror: “What in the hells is that!?” [B]Session Notes:[/B] We failed persuasion check I was told, to assist the highborn. Iesa was playing ranger, without being one. All things considered, it worked out well enough. [/QUOTE]
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