Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)

[Solarious]

Yeah, those nice, sane, good-aligned undead are not what they used to be... It's so hard to find good guardians, these days.

So very true, they all eventually go down the road of such luminaries like Hodge. Can't find good henchmen/wench to do job, now must do self, not sure if screw up. >,>;

 

[DSC-EricPrice]

Its monday, post man. POST POST POOOOOOOSSSSSTTTT!!!!!!

What can I say? I'm jonesin, and that's even AFTER I caught up on fridays post today.

 

[Lazybones]

Its monday, post man. POST POST POOOOOOOSSSSSTTTT!!!!!!

What can I say? I'm jonesin, and that's even AFTER I caught up on fridays post today.

Site was down during my usual post time.

Here you go:

* * * * *

Chapter 477

The face of every elf in the Arbor Hall in the moon elf community of Aldair Kelalei was creased with worry and exhaustion. Many outsiders commented that elves often did not display their emotions outwardly, but that could not be said of those gathered here, clearly concerned about the dire threat to their people.

Dannel sat quietly in a low chair fashioned out of a single curving slab of wood, and listened to the discussion going back and forth between the elders of the community. Eldren had been a prominent speaker, and Jannae had added some words as well, but few had even acknowledged him. He recognized many of the leaders of the community, who appeared unchanged to his eyes; he’d been gone almost sixty years, a great deal of time in the world outside, but to elves decades were just small increments in the long span of flowing time.

“The mythal in Bryth’an Torgul has begun to surge unexpectedly,” a gray-haired elf who looked ancient even by his race’s standards was saying. He was Phelan Tarin, and while his body looked frail, all but absorbed by his copious blue robe, he was one of the most powerful archmages ever to walk the forest paths of the Wealdath. Oddly, Dannel found himself reminded of Cal when he saw him, although outwardly there was little in the way of similarities between them.

“What of the guardian?” a lean elf clad in mithral chainmail queried.

An elf clad in green robes decorated with an intricate leaf pattern came forward. “The Green has been disrupted throughout the western Wealdath,” said Harin Alindrela, High Priest of Rillifane Rallathil. “I have attempted to contact the ancient one, as has master Tarin, but the disruptions caused by the wakening of the mythal block all magic in the region of Bryth’an Torgul.”

“So the baelnorn is fallen, or is himself corrupted by this surge,” Eldren said. “Do we have any idea of what caused this calamity?”

Alindrela and Tarin shared a look, but neither had an answer for him. “It could have been many things,” Alindrela said. “The mythals are of an elder age, and not fully understood even by the wisest of us today. Their power is… unpredictable.”

“Think of Myth Drannor,” Tarin said abruptly. That place was well known to elves across Faerûn, and from the looks that passed around the gathering the reminder was not a pleasant one.

“There has been no word from our scouts?” another elf asked.

“They just… vanished, into the wood,” Eldren said. “We have heard nothing at all from the region beyond Korul Ulgor, since the assault.”

“Have there been other sightings in this part of the wood?”

A silver-haired elven woman named Thalia Oliades, clad in the simple brown tunic of a senior druid, shook her head. “The druids have set up a line of watchers—plants, animals, and elves—along the frontier of Kelalei to the west. Dark things move in the wood beyond that line, but nothing yet has penetrated deeper, as far as we can tell. But beyond, the Green has become silent to us.”

A general disquiet had developed, as the limits of their knowledge became more stark. Finally, there was a long silence, and it was Dannel who finally broke it, coming to his feet and drawing all attention to him.

“Well then, we’ll have to send a force to Bryth’an Torgul, to deal with the threat at its source.”

“You have chosen to be an outsider, Dannel,” Eldren began, frowning, “It is not your role to…”

“Oh, do shut up,” Jannae said, cutting him off. “I love you, dearest, but you’re wrong; Dannel is one of us, and you saw him at Korul Ulgor. And you saw what we’re up against; we need all the aid we can get.”

Eldren clearly bristled at the admonition, but he held his tongue.

“We have come to the same conclusion as you, Dannel Ardan,” Alindrela said. “But the danger will be great. The power of the mythal is beyond mortal comprehension, and its disruptive power is such that our arts may be of little avail to the elves we send.”

“Steel is still steel,” Eldren said, simply. “And an arrow will still fly straight regardless of whether it bears enchantments.”

“A small, fast, stealthy force might be best,” Dannel said. “But you should still have a contingency, in case we fail.”

“Word has already been sent to the other communities via magic and by messenger. If necessary, we will fall back to the eastern wood, and prepare our stand there, at a place and time of our choosing. Farther from the mythal, the power of our foes will be weaker.”

“Evacuate Aldair Kelalei?” Eldren said. “I did not know of this.”

“With the grace of the Seldarine, it will not be necessary,” Alindrela said. “But we must be prepared.”

“Then we should begin at once,” Eldren said. “I already know who I want on my squad; most of them should be here in Aldair Kelalei.”

“Time is short, but we need rest, and time to make preparations,” Dannel said. “And our enemies may be stronger in the darkness.”

“It’ll be dawn in about five hours,” Jannae said. “We should be well on our way by then.”

“We will grant you what magical aid we can, both divine and arcane,” Alindrela said.

“And we can see that you are transported swiftly to the edges of the mythal’s power,” Oliades, the druidess, added. “But from there, you will be on your own.”

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 478

From there, you will be on your own.

The words of the druidess rang true in Dannel’s ears six hours later, the morning fog still stick throughout the forest as the dawn light still gathered to filter down through the dense canopy high above. Even to Dannel’s keen eyes the elves running beside him were like wraiths, shadows moving through the surreal landscape of early morning in the wood. It was a disturbing impression and one that he quickly tried to banish from his mind.

Eldren and Jannae was some distance ahead, running swiftly in the van, his trained senses alert to the slightest sign of trouble. Dannel knew little of the eight elves that were his companions on this mission, save that each was an expert woodsman, hand-picked by Eldren. Most were rangers, and a few had animal companions with them, including a huge gray wolf and an eagle that easily paced them on their journey through the forest. All bore bows and various melee weapons, but one had also worn a symbol of Corellon, indicating a second cleric in the group, and another had carried familiar small component pouches on his belt alongside his longsword and quiver that suggested a fighter-mage.

With the entire company empowered by long-lasting magic, either through their own arts or by draughts provided by the elven druids, the elves maintained a pace that rapidly consumed the miles. Dannel briefly thought of Dana, and her ability to wind walk, which would have made their journey a matter of hours rather than days. But even though the High Mage, Tarin, could have transported them to the vicinity of Bryth’an Torgul instantly using his magic, Dannel knew enough about the lore of the mythals to know that such an attempt would have been incredibly risky. Especially if, as they had theorized, the unpredictable surges of power coming from the ancient artifact was directly responsible for the rampaging undead in the forest.

And so they ran, pausing only briefly to take rests and eat food concentrates drawn from Eldren’s small bag of holding. There was little small talk; all of them had been briefed on what had happened at Korul Ulgor, and knew that they were heading into great danger.

Eldren had criticized Dannel’s woodlore, but even the arcane archer could sense the deepening sense of wrong that pervaded the forest as they pressed on, morning turning into afternoon. The fog finally dissolved around noon, but the wood remained deep within a pervading murk, as though the light from above simply could not muster the effort of reaching the forest floor. The Wealdath was eerily silent—not even the faint whisper of the breeze, or the subtle sounds of the forest’s teeming wildlife, accompanied their progress. In that ominous quiet even the faint whisper of the elves’ cloaks against the underbrush as they passed and the soft exertion of their breathing as they ran sounded excessively loud to Dannel’s ears, an announcement of their coming to whatever dark entity awaited them.

He quickly broke in his new boots, although in all fairness the supple elven craftsmanship was far kinder to his feet than the best human-made footwear that he could have purchased in Cauldron or even one of the larger cities of Tethyr or Calimshan. The elven boots made not even a whisper even at their hurried pace. He’d also acquired new arrows—although far fewer of the blessed holy arrows than he would have liked—and several potent healing draughts, gifts of the elves of Aldair Kelalei. The other elves were likewise very well equipped. Jannae carried several scrolls bearing potent clerical spells, and Eldren wore a soft green mantle over his torso that resembled a patch of lush green moss but which in actuality was a powerful garment that offered protection against some of the more terrible powers commonly possessed by the greater of the undead.

By mid afternoon their pace slackened some, as their store of longstrider potions and spells became depleted, and exhaustion at their rapid pace began to catch up to them. Eldren seemed impatient, but Jannae spoke to him and he eased his pace to the need of those accompanying him. Dannel was grateful for the reprieve, although he too felt the sense of urgency that drove them all on, to dig deeper into their reserves of energy.

The day’s light had already faded well into the gloom of twilight when Eldren called a halt. He’d directed them to a grove of especially massive trees, a place he apparently knew well, for he led them quickly to a particular tree with a trunk over fifteen feet across, and which bore faint marks on its bark that Dannel recognized as subtle aids for climbing.

“All right, we’ll take our rest up above,” Eldren said. “Jovran, go up first, set a line. Dalan, Yaela, clear the perimeter and then follow us up.”

Jovran, a lean, angular elf, shot up the tree with a speed and agility that reminded Dannel of Mole. Dalan and Yaela, siblings who looked almost alike to be twins, vanished into the forest on their scouting assignment, taking their animal companions with them. Meanwhile, the others made their way up the tree, rarely needing the rope that Jovran tossed down to aid their descent. Dannel carefully stashed his bow into his efficient quiver and climbed, not ashamed to use the rope to help with the ascent.

The upper branches of the tree contained enough flat space to accommodate all of them, and it clearly had been used for such a purpose in the past. The elves set safety lines and watched, with Jovran climbing higher into the canopy to set the first watch. Dalan and Yaela returned a few minutes later to report that the immediate area was clear. Dalan’s wolf remained below, but Yaela’s eagle floated in to perch atop the ranger’s shoulder, regarding all of them with what Dannel took to be a suspicious look in its eyes.

The fighter-mage, a raven-haired elf named Oloran, placed an alarm spell in the middle of their perch. The elves remained close, wrapping themselves in their cloaks, dropping into trance to refresh their minds while their bodies rested, while those on watch hovered at the edges of the branches like shadowy gargoyles perched on the battlements of an ancient castle.

Dannel had claimed a spot close to the central bole of the tree, a few yards away from the others. He sensed a presence and looked up to see Jannae coming over to him. Eldren had disappeared; he hadn’t seen the ranger since they had started up the tree.

“He’s verifying that the position is secure,” she whispered, sensing his question. She indicated the spot beside him, and when he nodded sat down, her back against the trunk of the tree.

“He doesn’t mean to be so abrasive toward you,” she said, finally. “It’s just that he feels very committed to the traditional ways, to family, to the obligations that he himself has made such a central part of his life.”

“You do not need to defend him,” Dannel replied. “I do not ask Eldren to be anything but what he is, any more than I can be anything but who and what I am.”

“We are not ignorant of what the Harpers accomplish, out in the wider world. And I know that he is impressed with your skill, even if he will not come out and admit such openly. From what I understand, you were much the same way, in your younger years.”

“You’ve been talking to our grandmother,” he said, but his tone was light.

“Give him a chance, and he will accept you.”

“I’m afraid that right now we have more important things to worry about than old family squabbles.”

She shrugged. “There is always darkness and danger in the world; at times like this family is even more important.”

“I thank you for your wisdom, priestess. I will think on your words, I promise.”

“Good. It’s good to have you with us, Dannel.”

He nodded and the elf woman rose, silently walking over to another empty space on the branch before pulling her cloak around her and lying down, becoming just another dark shape in the night.

Dannel let out a sigh, thinking of life and fate, before calming his thoughts, softening his breathing to a slow rhythmic flow as he fell into trance.

It seemed like just an instant later when he was startled back into reality by a chaotic explosion of sound. A tinkling of chimes announced the triggering of Oloran’s alarm spell at the same time that Yaela’s eagle screeched loudly and leapt into the night. Even as Dannel registered those sounds, his hand already darting for his bow, they were followed by a scream, a terrible cry of agony from above. A dark form hurtled toward him, and he drew back just in time to avoid being struck by the falling body of Jovran, his face frozen in a look of terror, his flesh a sickly pale white.

Looking up, he saw the huge dark forms that had killed the elf descending toward him.

 

[Dungannon]

Looking up, he saw the huge dark forms that had killed the elf descending toward him.

Oooh, I wonder if it's spiders. Or, given the current storyline, undead ghoul spiders.

 

[Solarious]

This is where people go: "Oops."

 

[Neverwinter Knight]

The Dreadwraiths?

 

[Lazybones]

The Dreadwraiths?

Cookie for you!

* * * * *

Chapter 479

Reflex took over as the elf registered the threat. The song filled him as he drew, sighted, and fired. The shot was true, bisecting the center of the first dark mass, but Dannel realized his mistake an instant before the arrow passed harmlessly through the wraith.

“Ghost touch,” he whispered, his magical quiver producing one of the ten translucent gray missiles from its extradimensional space at his command.

Both wraiths—gods, they were huge—descended toward him, blocking out the faint light of the moon and stars that filtered down through the treetops. But Dannel was a seasoned veteran, and while he could have leapt from the tree, relying upon his feather fall spell to drop him safely, he was not one to abandon companions. He could hear the other elves in the party stirring to wakefulness, but knew that it would still take precious seconds for even the experienced rangers to respond to the sudden attack.

And so the arcane archer’s bow sang, the enchanted missiles stabbing true through the body of the first wraith. It was fast, incredibly fast, but Dannel was one of the foremost archers of the Realms, and by the time it had descended the twenty feet to his perch he’d already scored two solid hits. The wraith made no sound, but in that dark, unknowable part of the mind where nightmares were born he could hear its baleful scream. Great rents were visible in its body as it reached him, and it extended a long incorporeal claw that pierced his chest and tore at his very soul. Dannel felt an icy chill grip him at that touch, and staggered as the dread wraith ripped a portion of his life energy from him.

The second wraith moved around the first to press the attack, and Dannel would have been hard-pressed to withstand another such assault. But before it could reach him the night was transformed by the golden blast of a ray of searing light that Jannae fired into the undead monstrosity’s black form. The wraith writhed as the holy power of the cleric’s attack tore at its substance, and as the light faltered it immediately turned and dove at the priestess. Before it could reach the branch where she stood, however, another black shadow detached itself from the bole of the tree and leapt to intercede itself between the undead and its target. The undead appeared as though it would pass right through the defender to get at its chosen victim, but a greenish glow flared around the body of the newcomer as the wraith approached. The wraith recoiled from that light, which revealed the features of Eldren, who lashed out at it with his magical sword. The blade, empowered by elves as a potent talisman, cut through the substance of the wraith. It was damaged, but not seriously so, and it quickly assaulted the elf blocking it, piercing Eldren’s defenses easily with its incorporeal claws. The mossmantle that the elf wore protected him from the life-draining effects of the wraith’s touch, but even that potent device could not inure him fully against that dread contact.

Arrows knifed through the wraith from behind as the rest of the elves joined the battle from the adjacent branch. The rangers had been equipped with a supply of magically-enhanced arrows, but most of them still passed harmlessly through the creature. Fortunately the elves had aimed carefully, so none of the errant shafts threatened Jannae or Eldren. More effective was Oloran, who blasted the wraith with a trio of magic missiles that tore glowing holes in the fabric of the undead creature.

Unfortunately, that success also drew attention to him, and he screamed when a few moments after his spell, another black wraith emerged through the branch at his feet, having come up at the embattled elves undetected from below. The wizard drew out a wand and discharged a current of electrical energy through the wraith at point-blank range, and the nearest of his companions tried to distract it with attacks of their own, but they could not save Oloran as the wraith hungrily drew the rest of the elf’s life-force out from him. Oloran screamed and stiffened, collapsing backwards and slipping off of the branch to plummet into the darkness below.

The wraith turned hungrily at once toward the next nearest victim.

Dannel stood his ground against the wraith, firing his deadly arrows at it point-blank. The wraith tried to strike him again, to draw off more of his life energy, but Dannel sliced an arrow through the vaporous claw, dissolving it into wisps of gray that quickly vanished. The wraith tried to simply envelop the archer, but as it lunged forward Dannel drew a final missile and buried it into the core of wraith. The unholy apparition seemed to shudder, once, and then with a soft sigh it evaporated into nothingness, leaving not even the arrows Dannel had buried in it behind to mark its existence.

Dannel did not hesitate to enjoy his victory, turning to aid the others. But even as he shifted he caught a hint of movement, and looked down in time to see a black form emerging from the ghastly corpse of Jovran, the elf scout.

“Ware the fallen… more are spawning!” he warned the others, dodging the initial attack from the thing that had minutes ago been a friend and ally.

Eldren danced along the very edge of the branch, his nimble feet carrying him within inches of plummeting off to the forest floor fall below. His efforts paid off, however, as he kept the wraith from getting around him to Jannae. The wraith had drifted back slightly, making it difficult for the ranger to attack it directly. But Jannae could still attack. Protected by Eldren, the priestess unrolled a scroll, and reading from the soft glow of her holy symbol she summoned a spiritual weapon that she sent to assault the undead creature. The glowing quarterstaff slammed true into the body of the wraith, its soft glow piercing its black substance like a shaft of moonlight through shadow. The wraith reacted immediately, abandoning caution to lunge at the cleric. It passed over Eldren as it did so, and the ranger immediately struck, his blade bisecting it lengthwise, tearing a great rift in its form that continued until the entirety of the wraith had been split in twain, destroying the creature.

Jannae immediately directed her spell-staff at the wraith that had destroyed Oloran.

The aid came none too soon for the embattled rangers. Despite what had happened to their peer they fought on bravely, for all that the majority of their attacks passed through the wraith without harming it. One of them boldly stepped forward and stabbed the wraith with a wand of cure light wounds, searing it with holy healing energy. The elf paid for his courage as the wraith enveloped him, but even within its black form the others could see the blue glow as the ranger continued damaging the wraith, up until the moment when the undead creature withdrew, leaving behind the withered husk of the man lying motionless upon the bark surface of the branch.

But the elf’s sacrifice had won precious moments, and the elves rallied to focus all of their attacks upon the last undead creature. Dannel, having dispatched the weaker wraith spawn that had emerged from Jovran’s corpse, now directed the last of his ghost touch arrows at the dread wraith, each hit piercing its incorporeal hide. Likewise Jannae’s spiritual weapon damaged it. Eldren unlimbered his own bow and sent his own stream of potent magical missiles into the creature, and combined with the barrage from the other elves, this finally resulted in the destruction of the creature.

“Ware the spawn!” Dannel cautioned. The elves drew back from the body of the elf ranger, and thus warned were able to destroy the black form that emerged from the body a few seconds later before it could attack or escape.

However, they never did find the one that would have come from Oloran, although they did later find the body of the slain elf later, his skull crushed from landing on a jagged-edged rock below.

“His alarm spell gave us warning,” Dannel said of the magic-user, as the elves gathered together. Jannae called upon her gifts to lay a lesser restoration upon him that eased some of the loss he’d suffered from the wraith’s touch. He still felt acutely the echo of that chill contact, but he smiled and nodded gratefully for her aid.

“Likewise Jovran and Caylen gave their lives for our cause,” Eldren added. “We should not remain here.”

“Without rest, we will not be as effective,” Dannel pointed out. “And the night is not our ally.”

“We will go cautiously, but go we must,” Eldren insisted, an edge to his voice as he turned to face his cousin. “Our enemy will only grow stronger, the longer we delay.”

Dannel nodded, deferring to the ranger.

“What of Jovran, and Caylen?” Jannae asked. “We should not leave their bodies to be claimed by the undead.”

“Bless them then, but make haste. We do not have time for a pyre; we will treat them properly upon our return, if that is our fate.”

The elves made their preparations quickly and in silence, and descended the tree to the forest floor below. Down below the depth of the night was almost total, proof even to sharp elven eyes. But the members of Eldren’s company were veteran trackers, and even in the near absence of light they made their way forward. The ranger remained in the lead, accompanied by Dalan, whose wolf companion’s senses helped them maintain their course. But progress was slow, and Dannel found himself stumbling several times, once even falling flat on his face when an unseen root caught his ankle firmly in its grasp. Finally one of the trackers took his arm, and the arcane archer allowed him—her? He could not even see enough to discern the ranger’s gender—to guide him.

To Dannel’s senses they traveled at a crawl, but at least there were no more undead attacks; in the darkness they would have been easy prey for another ambush. Finally, however, he realized that the wood around him was becoming more distinct, the trees resolving into more than just vertical shadows slightly darker than the surrounding night. Dawn was approaching. He felt a weariness that was deep in the bone, as though it had been a lifelong companion. But he also knew that there would be battle this day, and blood, and likely death. When it came, he knew he would be ready… but that anticipation did nothing to ease the exhaustion that tugged at his limbs as he pressed deeper into the western reaches of the Wealdath.

Eldren seemed indomitable, driving them all further on, and as the light gradually brightened Dannel could see that the rangers openly showed the same strain that he himself felt. Somehow, oddly, that comforted him. The elf at his arm withdrew, now that it was light enough for him to clearly mark the trail. It was a woman, he saw—Ellene, he thought her name was. Despite having spent almost a day in the company of the elven scouts, he’d exchanged barely a dozen words with any of them. The hunters communicated as often with hand signals as with spoken words, and the silence seemed appropriate to this cursed forest, where even the whisper of a boot against bare rock seemed like an unwelcome intrusion.

Finally, Eldren called a pause. Dannel resisted the urge to topple onto his backside; his feet, despite the relative comfort of his new boots, each felt like a single massive callus. The elves gathered close around him, so that his words would not travel beyond their company.

“We draw near to Bryth’an Torgul,” he told them, his voice a soft whisper. “The animals grow agitated, and will not go further.” The elves all nodded, as if this was patently obvious; Dannel realized that he had not noticed. He was a ranger, like them, but in this alien place he felt as though his skills had departed him. Had he spent too long living in cities, among humans? He felt the reassuring weight of his bow at his side. That, at least, was something he could rely upon.

“Food and drink. Ten minutes,” he told them. He drew out supplies from his bag of holding, and distributed them to the elves. Dalan and Yaela went off a short distance and appeared to communicate with their animal companions, likely bidding them wait here for their return. Dannel took his light trailcake and waterskin and leaned up against a nearby tree. He did not trust himself to sit down, doubting whether he would be able to get up again. He was not in poor shape, and his magical amulet augmented his stamina, but the effects of the wraith’s touch lingered, despite Jannae’s assistance earlier.

The appointed rest period passed too swiftly, and Eldren called them together again. The elves rose wearily, checking their weapons, but their hesitation ended when Ellene hissed a warning, and they spun to see the baelnorn standing twenty feet behind Eldren, regarding them calmly.

 

[Solarious]

And here is where things go downhill. Will Dannel's skills be enough to take on the baelnorn? Does it have to be eliminated? What horrors will these elves have to face now? Will the cleric once again go the way of the redshirt? Tune in tomorrow, where screaming awaits and much suffering ensues!

By the by, I'm curious: what exactly was that pebble that Mole used on 'Terror'? And what was the significance of the name 'Lord Liggett', pray tell?

Besides that, keep up the quality writing! I look forward to the next installment of your infamous character suffering.

 

[Lazybones]

And what was the significance of the name 'Lord Liggett', pray tell?

I'll see if one of the other readers keyed into that one; if not the answer will come out in a later update.