Broccli_Head said:
Hey LB, by any chance do you happen to know all the cauldron adventures and when Dungeons they are in? I have most of them, but am missing some and woudl like to track down the others (in lieu of spending $60 for the hardback collection)
Check the first post in this thread.
Elemental said:
Only negative bit for me is that the end is drawing close.
Not necessarily. Stay tuned...
* * * * *
Chapter 388
The next morning the rains abated briefly, but that only led to an intensification of activity in the forest clearing as the refugees from Cauldron hurried to complete their shelters before the inevitable return of the deluge. About a dozen carpenters had been included in the nearly eleven hundred people who’d made it to this site; they were put to work supervising a work crew that was quickly cutting the trees they’d felled earlier into crude boards to serve as the basis of roof frames for the shelters outlined by the summoned earth elementals the day before. Other crews were already at work constructing shingles to deflect the rain, while yet more Cauldronites worked on preparing vats of tarry sealant, making iron nails from simple molds, braiding coils of rope, digging latrines, hunting or gathering food from the adjacent jungle, or any of a hundred other tasks that needed to be done before the rains started up again. Jenya and her helpers had realized that the citizens of the shattered city needed to be kept busy in order to keep their minds off of the disasters they’d experienced, and there was no shortage of things to be done. Whenever conflicts broke out—inevitably, given the frustration and tension that lingered in the camp—a white-robed acolyte of Helm or a blue-garbed Hammer was usually quick to arrive, defusing the situation before it could escalate into violence. A few people grumbled at the authority placed over them so hastily, but they found themselves in the minority. Most of the people of Cauldron found reassurance in being told what to do, and while factions and dissent would predictably arrive once things settled down and the immediate threats of hunger and disease were avoided, for now the camp proceeded in its busy buzz of activity without undo problems.
Most of the rooms of the Lucky Monkey were packed with people; most of the sleeping rooms were filled to double or even triple their usual occupancy, often with the beds being used two or even three times per day, with occupants sleeping in shifts. Despite the crowds the rooms were kept fairly clean; one of the assignments Jenya had given to those without specific craft-related skills was to maintain the general cleanliness of the roadhouse and larger camp to avoid the spread of sickness and disease. Even with several high-powered clerics present in the camp, no one wanted to add an epidemic to their problems.
Even the Heroes of Cauldron had to deal a bit with the overcrowding, although their status granted them a trio of small, private rooms jammed in under the eaves on the eastern side of the roadhouse’s second story. In one of those rooms, clearly sized for small folk with its low ceiling and sized-down furnishings, Ballander Calloran was packing carefully sorted parcels laid out across his bedspread into his
handy haversack. He didn’t turn when the door opened and Mole silently entered. He continued what he was doing while she stood there behind him, fidgeting somewhat, but did not start when she finally spoke.
“I heard you were going to Waterdeep today.”
Cal finished his loading, and cinched the draws on the top of the pack. Even fully loaded, it weighed only about five pounds, although a number of the packages he’d put inside weighted at least that much independently. His eyes lifted to the weapon laid across the small desk, carefully wrapped in brown linen.
Mindbite had adjusted itself to his size, but it would still be an awkward burden for one unused to dealing with large weapons.
“Yes,” he finally replied. “There are things we’ll need, and we have a lot of excess loot to unload. In addition to the haversack, Lok’s loaning me his
bag of holding, so I should be able to bring back a good quantity of supplies for the refugees as well on the return trip.”
Mole twisted the toe of her boot on the floor, her hands stuffed awkwardly in her pockets.
“You know you can tell me what’s on your mind, my dear,” Cal said.
“I thought… I thought I’d go with you.”
“I was planning on asking. You’ve got a good eye for bargains, and with the amount of magical loot I’ll be carrying, I could use an eye on my back as well.”
“Sure. But… I thought I’d… well, I thought maybe I’d stay there. Home. You know.”
Cal stepped over to her, took her chin and raised her head so that their eyes could meet.
“If that’s what you want, Clarese. But you’d told me before, just a few days ago, that you couldn’t think of giving up this life.”
“That was before!” she said, some of her shell fracturing under the weight of the emotions she’d kept inside. She broke away and walked around him to the bed, sitting there, miserable. “Zenna’s gone, gone forever, and me too, almost…”
Cal joined her on the bed, but didn’t say anything. After a long minute, Mole continued.
“I thought I was soooo good. I thought nothing could touch me. That dragon… just another bad-ass monster that couldn’t catch me, no, not the master thief…”
“Part of what we do is face risks that sane people probably wouldn’t touch,” Cal said. “I mean, when you
really think about it… look at the enemies we’ve faced in just the last few days. Do you want me to tell you that rushing out into that lava field wasn’t stupid? It was, and I won’t. But you’ve heard all my stories; how many have started with, ‘And so Benzan did something stupid…’?” And while we all enjoy mocking Benzan, we’ve
all made mistakes. Back when it was just the five of us… Lok, Dana, Benzan, Delem, and myself… gods, we got into so many troubles of our own making. And yet we survived, and…”
“Delem didn’t,” she interrupted.
“No, he didn’t. And what happened to him was bad for all of us. We all felt a little like you and Benzan are feeling now, losing Zenna. And yet, somehow, we kept going. Why?”
“I suppose you’re going to say something about the greater good, and helping people who can’t help themselves…”
“No, I’m not. What, why should you be surprised? Of course, that’s part of it… and I in no way want to denigrate the motivation that drives your friend Arun, or Lok, or the Harpers, or any of us who are driven by what you describe. But that’s not all of it, and you know it isn’t.”
“I
know what you felt, when you charged out there into that blind rush across the lava chamber. I wasn’t much older than you when I set out down that long road. I had no idea where it led, then, and I still don’t. But it’s the
journey that matters.”
“We live in a reality where we know that there’s something more beyond what we have here, now. We know more than most, because we’ve been to that beyond, and been brought back here. But that doesn’t take one iota away from the significance of
this life. If anything, it adds to it.”
“People like us… we seek adventure, not because we’re crazy thrill seekers, or blind fools who court death. But we seek it because it is a drive that is core to our being, it is
part of what we are. How many people are there that can do what we do, Mole? How many people see a red dragon unleash its deadly maelstrom of fire, and instead of fleeing in terror, jump onto its claw? How many people will stand up to a horde of enemies intent only on their death and destruction, and instead of running away, leap into the fray against hopeless odds to aid a friend?”
“You can go home to our family, take over the trading business, live a settled, peaceful life; heck, maybe get married to a good, hardworking craftsgnome and raise a houseful of children. That’s a good life, and I won’t say different. I won’t think any less of you, my dear, none of us would, because we’ve all had to confront that decision, and not just once. But don’t think that it would be the easier choice. It would be harder, because you’d be running against the core of who you are, that part of you that originally made the decision to walk down that road, not knowing where it led.”
Cal rose, and shouldered his backpack. He took the wrapped polearm, and walked to the door, not looking back.
Mole remained, sitting there on the bed for a long time.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Uncle Cal advising Mole. Whom we all love, isn't that right?
