Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)

[Lazybones]

Chapter 260

“Helm’s glory!” Beorna said, lifting up her holy sword in both hands, as the dark flames of destruction engulfed her. For a moment, the shining warrior was lost in the black storm, but then the flames froze, caught in a surge of light that shone from her body in a fleeting instant. The flames fell, disintegrating into nothingness as they struck the ground, leaving the templar unharmed.

“Impossible!” Iverson said.

“Nothing is impossible when a god shelters you with his hand,” Beorna pronounced. She stepped toward Iverson, ignoring the pounding she took from the zombie renders that continued to press her. The creature she’d wounded before shambled forward to block her path to the cleric, slamming her across the face with a massive claw. Beorna snarled and laid into the zombie with a powerful stroke that sundered its decrepit form, driving it to the ground. Another claw tore at her shoulder from behind, but with her backstroke she cut deep into the limb of the zombie attacking her, nearly severing the arm from its body.

Zenna aided her efforts by casting a haste spell, centered on the dwarves.

Iverson did not waste the momentary respite he’d gained through his servants, and began preparing another spell. Before he could summon the power, though, another arrow slammed into his arm, driving a hot jab of pain through him as a jolt of electricity flowed from the missile into his body. Snarling, he turned to the devil.

“Deal with that elf!” he commanded.

The osyluth bowed and lifted a few feet into the air before vanishing.

Arun’s sword sliced through the leg of one of the zombies, severing the limb and sending the creature falling awkwardly aside. Another render reached for him as he started toward Iverson, but Hodge ran at it and clove it with his axe, drawing its attention from the paladin.

Even as Arun tried to reach Iverson, the cleric released his spell. A shimmering surrounded Beorna, stripping away each of her magical protections as the priest’s dispel sundered them. She returned to her regular size, her muscles slumping as her endurance and strength spells evaporated, and the full force of the loss she’d suffered earlier at the touch of the wraith hit her. Also lost was her shield of faith and divine favor, as well as the haste she’d just gotten from Zenna. The zombies, as if sensing her sudden weakness, tore at her with renewed fervor even as she tried to hack her way through them with her holy blade. She was showing the signs of her wounds now, slowing under the continued assault.

From behind the cleric, the hemisphere of ice that held Mole captive began to glow. A bright spot appeared that grew suddenly white-hot with the familiar shine of burning alchemist’s fire as a round opening appeared in the side of the frozen prison. No sooner had it appeared then Mole dove through it, somersaulting to land on her feet, her rapier at the ready in her hand.

“Ta da!” she announced, to no one in particular. Iverson acknowledged her with a glance, then returned his attention to Arun, who appeared around the edge of the melee between Beorna and the zombies, charging at the cleric with his holy sword raised to strike. Iverson seemed unconcerned, his sword still sheathed at his belt. Arun did not hesitate, leaping in to smite the unholy priest.

But even as Arun prepared to strike, the cleric lunged forward quickly, laying a slender finger upon the dwarf’s breastplate. The action left him completely open now to attack, but Arun was suddenly in no position to deliver the blow. The paladin’s face became a rictus of agony as the dark energies of Iverson’s harm spell tore mercilessly through him. Driven to the brink of death, Arun somehow managed to stay standing, although his entire body quivered with pain and weakness, and runnels of bright red blood began to appear at the crevices of his armor, running down his legs to gather in small puddles at his feet.

“Now, paladin, we shall see,” the dark cleric said, laughing.

Even as Arun had begun his charge, Dannel had drawn another arrow out of his quiver and prepared for yet another shot at Iverson. He’d seen the devil vanish, but had been too far distant to hear the cleric’s command to him, even his keen elvish ears not able to overcome the sounds of the melee that still raged in the center of the room. But even as he took aim down the long shaft of his arrow, a faint stirring above him gave him warning.

Looking up, he saw the bone devil, hovering in the air barely ten feet above him, an evil grin on its inhuman features.

Dannel knew from hard experience that even the arrows magically enhanced by his song would be unlikely to hurt the fiend that loomed over him. Fortunately, he had another weapon that could, but even as he dropped his bow and reached for Alakast, the devil surged down at him, reaching for him with its claws even as its long stinger darted over its shoulder, stabbing several inches into Dannel’s body.

The elf stiffened as poison coursed into his body, and as the devil’s claws tore at him he felt his connection to the wall through his magical slippers tearing. Pain exploded across his torso, and then he was falling, the ground rushing quickly up to meet him.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 261

Dannel’s body felt like it was a single raging sea of pain, but he was still conscious. He still clutched his staff with the fingers of his left hand, which had clenched around the white shaft so tightly that he felt it even through the pain. Rolling over onto his back, he looked up to see the devil dropping straight toward him.

Oh, crap!

Desperation and adrenaline briefly overcame his pain, and he was able to get Alakast up enough to strike it a glancing blow on the shoulder, using the devil’s downward momentum to add to the effectiveness of the blow. The osyluth shrieked in pain as the weapon, created to destroy creatures such as it, unleashed its destructive power into it. But Dannel paid for his effort a moment later as the devil lunged and snared his arm in its powerful jaws, crushing the limb and snapping its head to the side to slam the elf into the wall with enough force to knock him unconscious. The staff fell from his hands, harmless now. The devil smiled, its stinger dancing eagerly as it rose up over the elf...

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Zenna cried, leaping at the devil from behind. The osyluth turned, its stinger snapping out... to vanish through one of the mirror images that she had conjured in defense. She stabbed a short wand into the devil’s side, the bone device she’d won in their clash with the lich in the skull mountain on Occipitus. The wand unleashed a sharp red jolt of energy that overcame the devil’s magical resistance to open a splay of ugly red wounds in its body, running out from the point of impact like cracks on a pane of glass.

The devil hissed in pain, but Zenna knew she’d gotten lucky with the wand, and that the initiative had now passed to the terrible fiend.

Arun, staggering backward, called upon the divine power of Moradin to heal his wounds. Iverson, calmly following, had still not drawn his sword, but he had already proven that he needed no greater weapon than his touch, and the dark power of whatever god—clearly not Kelemvor—that he worshipped.

One of the massive zombies clattered to the floor, its body riven by huge gashes, the unholy life force that animated it failing. Over its body staggered Beorna, her breath coming in huge gasps, her face haggard and pale. But the sword in her hand still glowed with pure light as she lifted it and pointed the blade at Iverson.

“Back... off... priest...” she said.

Iverson shrugged, lifted his hand, and called upon his dark power once more.

The dark power of the mass inflict wounds spread outward in a wave. The priest’s own wounds knitted shut, and Arun crumpled, dying. Beorna’s face twisted in anguish, although she did not fall, and some distance away Hodge, still fighting the last of the zombies, let out a stream of expletives as the wave impacted him.

“Aaaaaaaaa!”

Mole’s inarticulate yell drew Iverson’s attention around. The wiry gnome, bleeding from her nose and ears, tumbled at the surprised priest, tangling herself in his feet, applying leverage to the back of his left knee as he turned. Iverson, caught off balance, fell forward, landing prone.

“Die! Die!” Mole shouted, stabbing her little knife into a gap in the man’s armor. The tiny blade did little in the way of damage, and Iverson quickly recovered. He turned onto his side, and reaching down grasped Mole by the throat, unleashing a powerful surge of negative energy into her. Blood gushed out of Mole’s mouth as the spell ravaged her insides, and her eyes swept back in her head as she lost consciousness. With a look of contempt, the cleric tossed her aside.

Zenna dodged back as the devil came at her again. She only had two mirror images left, now, and she bore gashes along her side where its claws had already successfully found her. The stinger waited, poised to strike once her protective distractions were depleted. She knew that Dannel was dying, that he needed her, but she also knew that if she paused to heal the elf, the devil would tear her to pieces.

She turned and ran toward the fallen elf. The devil was quick to move to intercept, but instead of forcing past it toward Dannel, she turned to the side, where Alakast lay. Bending down, she took up the weapon, staggering as hot breath followed by angry pain erupted in her side, as the devil tore into her shoulder with its protruding jaws.

Who am you kidding! a voice sounded deep in her mind as she fell back against the nearby wall, turning to face the devil. You’re no fighter!.

But then she caught sight of Dannel, lying there, blood smeared across his face.

Almost blindly, she thrust Alakast at the devil.

A sharp sound like a miniature thunderclap stunned her. When she regained enough control of her senses to realize what was happening, she saw the devil standing there, a great hole burned in its chest where the staff had struck. For a moment, she felt a giddy, desperate hope that she’d killed it.

But then the devil lifted its eyes to meet hers, and it moved, coming forward again, the stinger hovering eagerly in wait.

She’d given her best shot, and it hadn’t stopped it. She saw her death, and knew with a grim inevitability that there was nothing that she could do to avert it.

 

[Broccli_Head]

Wow! Looks like its gonna be a TPK

Wake up Arun!

 

[Micah]

Well I don't know about a TPK, but maybe if a few members get killed the "charge first - plan later" attitude of the characters will change.

Love the story and the writing LB, but I'm very glad that my own players have started working together better than Zenna & co. and mine are at a measly 2nd level. But I will be the first to admit I've got some great players, so maybe this has more reality to it than I know.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 262

The devil seemed to savor Zenna’s expectation of death, but instead of moving to finish her, it inexplicably held its ground.

A voice that she instinctively knew was the devil’s sounded in her mind. ”You are not to be killed,” it said.

Confused, Zenna just stared at it, unable to even think. But when it turned from her and took a step toward Dannel, her indecision evaporated, and she quickly moved to block it, bringing up Alakast again.

“If you try to hurt him, either I’ll kill you, or you’ll have to kill me,” she said.

The devil regarded her silently for a few seconds; to Zenna the interval seemed like an eternity. Then it smiled, a grim, sardonic expression that seemed horrific on such an alien face.

And then it vanished.

Ike Iverson stood, ignoring the faint twinge where the gnome had managed to get a puny attack through his defenses. He’d been hurt, but his various inflict spells had poured new life into him. That was a gift of the darkness to which he’d sold his soul, a trade that he’d never regretted, in that it had given him the power that he’d always craved.

And now he relished that power, as his foes finally began to fall around him. The paladin had gone down, the dwarven woman—though she’d annoyingly defied his most potent spell—was battered to the brink of defeat, and that gnome had merely been an annoying distraction. And he was confident that the devil would deal with the elf; while he was a skilled archer, Iverson knew he was far less of a threat in close combat.

But even as he rose, a gleaming silver blade appeared before him, a sword that floated in mid-air, darting toward him as though wielded by an invisible swordsman. Iverson simply let his layered defenses absorb the first stroke, more annoyed than threatened.

“A spiritual weapon? A minor annoyance...”

But as he saw the dwarf woman helping the paladin to his feet, the bright glow of healing energy still shining around her hands, he realized that he might not be done here just yet.

“He said you were trouble,” Iverson said, finally drawing his long bastard sword from its sheath. Almost as an afterthought, he dispelled Beorna’s spiritual weapon, and the force-sword winked out of existence.

“Who?” Arun said. “Who pulls your strings, cleric?”

But Iverson’s only response was, “Let us finish this, then.”

The priest’s initial concern was that the dwarves would try to flank him, but the two actually gave way before his approach. The woman’s reservoir must have been running dry; the paladin still looked barely able to stand despite the healing he’d received. And for all her earlier bravado, the woman warrior—templar, he now realized—seemed small and hesitant. The paladin said a few words to her in a guttural language; dwarvish, Iverson realized, though he did not speak the tongue.

“Not so bold now, are we?” he said, with a laugh. With a sudden movement he hurled a spell at the paladin, hoping to end it quickly, but he wasn’t especially surprised that the dwarf resisted his magic. Tough creatures, those dwarves... a pity that their durability so rarely survived the transition to undeath.

The templar channeled a few more driblets of positive energy into herself. The paladin just stood there, a slightly vacant look on his face. Iverson waved his sword in front of him to distract them, while drawing upon his most potent valence of spell energy into another deadly inflict wounds spell. With a grim smile, he started forward....

Movement behind him drew his attention in time for him to receive the charge from the giant golden-skinned lizard that had appeared seemingly from nowhere. Iverson snarled as the creature tried to bite his arm, and he stabbed a finger into its body, pouring the terrible energies of his spell into the creature. Forgot about the damned celestial mount, the cleric berated himself. The entire temple was protected with an unhallow spell laid by Aloustinai herself, but paladins called their pets, which got around the inability of good creatures to be summoned inside its precincts. Still, from the way that the creature shook and trembled at the negative energy pouring through it, it wouldn’t last very long. Perhaps it could even be captured, and turned to his use...

A jolt of pain that stabbed through his back reminded him that he still had living enemies to deal with. Iverson turned, the lizard still trying in vain to get a grasp on him, to see the paladin dwarf lift his sword for another strike. Iverson met the swing with his own blade, turning it aside.

“My power runs deep,” the cleric said, taunting him. “I have plenty left for your destruction!”

They exchanged another series of blows, and Iverson took another hit that sent pain surging through him. “Your sword is potent,” he said. Ignoring the lizard, which still had not managed to hit him, he defensively cast another inflict spell, catching the paladin on the arm when he launched another attack. Arun’s body stiffened and he nearly dropped his weapon, and he stumbled back. Iverson sensed that he’d partially resisted the spell, but even so the dwarf was right back on the edge of unconsciousness once more, with only a gentle nudge to push him over. And this time, he would not be coming back.

But then he realized that he’d lost track of the other dwarf, the templar.

Even as he turned, the dwarf woman appeared at the edge of his vision slit, leaping at him with her sword blazing. Again the assault faltered against his layered defenses. He lashed out at her, driving her back, his sword tearing through her battered armor to add a shallow gash to her tally of wounds.

“I am not so bad with the blade, either,” he laughed. The lizard, working persistently at him, finally managed to grab hold of his leg with enough of a grip to cause pain, and he absently reached down to finish off that annoyance.

Pain—real pain, this time—exploded through his lower back. Staggering forward, he looked down to see that gnome, that ANNOYING GNOME!—with her little toy rapier in her hand, its length slick with his blood. “I thought I killed you!” he snarled.

“No, sorry,” she said. “I’m pretty tough to kill, actually.”

“Well, then I will make certain of the job!” he yelled. He unleashed his reserve, a quickened inflict serious wounds that healed most of the damage he’d suffered. Then, turning to face his enemies, all of which were nearly dead—had to be!—he called upon the dark power of his patron yet again.

But before he could strike, a bright light filled his eyes. Within that glow, a painful nimbus that drove into his eyes like twin nails, came a pair of holy blades. They struck his defenses and parted them, slamming into his body with the full force of two smites behind them. In disbelief he staggered back, not even feeling pain as he looked down to see huge rents in his torso, his sundered organs visible beneath a sea of blood and bone and ruined tissue.

“No...” he said, calling a spell that evaporated, the magic just outside his reach. “No, it cannot be... I was promised...”

Then he slumped to the ground, dead.

For a few heartbeats, the three companions stood there, looking down at his body. Iverson’s assessment of their condition had been not far off the mark, and their own wounds left them barely able to stand. Then a loud crash drew their attention back to the center of the room. Hodge stood there as the last render zombie slowly twitched and fell still. The dwarf was drenched in blood and gore, much of it his own. Behind him they could see Zenna and Dannel standing at the breach in the wall of ice, too badly hurt to push through the opening, the elf leaning heavily upon Alakast to keep him upright.

Hodge looked around at the scene of carnage around him. “Aye, now that were a battle,” he said. He reached for his jug, but before he could grasp it, his eyes rolled up into his head and he toppled over onto his back.

 

[ajanders]

Woohoo!

Somebody down there likes Zenna!
Oh...wait.
That's actually not so good.
I think it says something about the story when the bone devil answers to somebody who likes you...and that's the GOOD news.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 263

“So what in the ‘ells is that blasted thing?”

None of the gathered companions had an answer for Hodge. Standing in the private chapel of the High Priest of Helm, the current holder of that title frowned as she stared down at the focus on their interest.

The object that they had taken from the cathedral of Kelemvor lay on a flat stone table covered with a white cloth. It was a cage, just about large enough for a man, decorated with unholy motifs—skulls, bones, and dark runes that seemed to move when the viewer started to look away. It was made of metal, but that was all they could discern of its manufacture from casual observation; even the dwarves were confounded in identifying the alloys. Despite its solid appearance, it weighed no more than about fifty pounds. They’d had little trouble bringing it here, wrapping it in one of the tapestries that had adorned the walls of the temple of Kelemvor, but none of them felt at ease being in the same room with the device.

“I cannot answer you, dwarf,” Jenya said. “But it is a magical item of incredible power... and infused with the pure essence of blackest evil.” She rubbed her head, which probably still ached with the surge of power she’d been hit with when she’d used divination magic upon it earlier. Zenna understood; her own detect magic had almost overloaded her senses, but had confirmed that the cage radiated a powerful aura of abjuration, conjuration, and necromancy magic.

“I am more concerned with this,” Dannel said, stepping back over to the altar, where he recovered another of the items they’d found. This article was less imposing than the cage; a collection of papers they’d found in a secret drawer in Embril Aloustinai’s quarters in the temple. Her room had been richly decorated but devoid of personal effects and other valuables, suggesting that she’d planned to be away for quite some time, when she’d departed Cauldron some months back.

Dannel took the last page in the papers, and read a passage that they’d already heard once before.

High Priestess,
As many have heard me say, the cages alone will not allow the completion of the ritual. What more is needed I cannot say, as so I continue to explore the mysteries of the soul pillars at great peril. The guardian grows ever more restless, and the insanity that lies frozen in Karran-Kural is beginning to stir.
My price has doubled.
-F.

“So this Karran-Kural place may be a hideout for these... cultists? We still don’t even know exactly what we’re dealing with, here,” Arun said.

“We have little more than a name, and a place,” Zenna said. “Those papers refer to a ‘Fetor Abradius,’ probably the “F” who signed that last note. It sounds like he was conducting research into a ritual of some sort, something that probably involved that,” she indicated the odd cage, “or others like it.”

“You think there’s more of them?” Mole said.

“Well, the note used the plural,” Zenna replied.

“Bah, ‘ow er we s’posed to find this bastard, w’ just a few scribbles and this ‘ere hunk o’ metal?” Hodge said.

Zenna looked to Jenya. “I’ve prepared my commune, and will do my best to get some answers,” the priestess said.

The door opened suddenly, and they turned around to see Beorna walking heavily into the room. She’d stolen a few moments to towel off her armor, but she still looked a sight, her short hair sticky with sweat and blood, her clothes ragged from the beating they’d taken over the course of what had been a quite busy day.

“How has the situation developed, templar?” Jenya asked.

“The city authorities are up in arms, of course,” the dwarf replied. “The evidence that the Kelemvorites were up to no good was pretty hard to refute; hells, just the bodies of those undead monstrosities alone made a damn near irresistible case. I think you’ll need to talk to Skellerang again yourself, though; the man looked right about to pop a blood vessel when I spoke to him.”

Zenna smiled to herself ruefully; she could imagine how that conversation had gone. From all accounts Skellerang, the leader of the Watch, was close-minded, arrogant, and utterly full of himself.

Oh yeah, she could imagine how that conversation had gone.

“There haven’t been any inquiries about... that, have there?” Dannel asked, gesturing at the cage.

“Not that I’ve heard,” Beorna said. “But whoever Iverson was working with, I’d wager they know, by now.”

It was not a wager that any of them would venture to take.

“So what now?” Mole asked.

“You should stay here again tonight,” Jenya said. “When the sun sets I will commune with Helm... but not here,” she said, looking down with disgust at the cage.

“What should we do with that, High Priestess?” Beorna asked.

“For now, put in the sanctum.” At Beorna’s frown she added, “I know, I know, but it is the most secure place in the temple, and is warded from divination magic as well. As you said, our enemies likely know of our involvement, but we shall not make it easy for them.”

“Guards?”

Jenya lowered her head, a sad look weighing down her features. Zenna realized that she hadn’t seen the young woman, who had been so forceful and inherently optimistic when they’d first met, smile in quite some time. But for all the pressure on her, Jenya Urikas was still that strong woman at heart. “No,” she said. “Alert the acolytes, but I’ll not put them in the path of danger if I can help it. I will see to the defenses of the church myself.”

Zenna stepped forward. “If I may, High Priestess, I might be able to offer some suggestions, in terms of the questions you will ask in your commune.”

Beorna’s frown grew even deeper, if that was possible, but Jenya quickly nodded. “I appreciate your counsel, Zenna. Come to my quarters in an hour, and I will prepare some tea.”

“I could use a bath,” Arun said. He looked tired, as well, but there was nothing of surrender in the paladin’s bearing; to Zenna, he was as he had always been, a rock, the foundation upon which their company rooted their strength.

“Eh, I could use a drink o’ three,” Hodge said.

“Thought you might,” Beorna said. She drew out a half-gallon jug of thick, clouded glass from her pack, and tossed it to the dwarf. Hodge dropped his axe and barely caught the missile, turning the jug over to reveal dwarvish runes on a slap of paper affixed to the front.

“Gutbuster Fifteen!” Hodge exclaimed. “Woman, I could kiss yer!”

Beorna smiled. “Maybe... if you were ten years younger, thirty pounds lighter about the gut, and doused in the lake first!”

The exchange added a needed moment of levity, and the companions all laughed heartily before the cage dragged them back into the depth of the moment.

“I’m going to go to Skie’s,” Mole said. “Trade in some of our excess swag, see if there’s any new rumors on the street.” She started toward the door, but Zenna stopped her.

“Don’t go alone,” she said. “Remember, those assassins found us once...”

Mole shrugged. “All right, ‘mom,’ I’ll take Dannel. Satisfied?”

The elf smiled as he joined her, but the look he and Zenna shared was full of meaning. Be careful, each seemed to say.

Beorna glanced over at Hodge, who’d already taken a deep swallow from the jug. “All right, Golden Boy, your friend’s not going to be much good for anything in a few minutes, so help me get this hunk of junk into the Sanctum.” She grabbed onto the cage and lifted it from the table, waiting for Arun to take the rear end of it before starting toward the chapel exit.

“Wait,” Zenna said. She grabbed the tablecloth and draped it over the cage, hiding the terrible thing from view.

 

[Broccli_Head]

so is there going to be a response from the mainstream, non-evil Kelemvorite churches. Having a ranger/cleric of Kelemvor myself I was really upset at the corruption

 

[Lazybones]

so is there going to be a response from the mainstream, non-evil Kelemvorite churches. Having a ranger/cleric of Kelemvor myself I was really upset at the corruption

Given how isolated Cauldron is, probably not right away, but over the course of the campaign, who knows...

* * * * *

Chapter 264

Afternoon turned quickly to evening, and evening deepened even faster into night. Over the town of Cauldron, a preternatural hush descended, even the usual night sounds muted as its citizens retreated to their homes and rooms to await the coming of another troubled day.

Mole and Dannel returned shortly after sunset. The gnome was all excitement, and quickly found the others—at least some of them; Zenna was still in seclusion with Jenya, and Hodge had already passed out—to share her news.

“Great news!” she said to Beorna and Arun. “Since we’ve been such great customers, Skie has signed our company up for her ‘Adventurer’s Discount’. We get special deals on magic items, and special bids on new items that come into stock!”

“Don’t forget the name,” Dannel prodded her with a smile.

“Oh, right! We also get the name of our adventuring company on the panel in front of her shop; she’s got a whole stone porch covered with them!” She paused, a wide grin on her face.

“And?” Arun finally asked.

“And so we need to come up with a name for us! For our company!”

The paladin rubbed at his temples. “Mole. We just got back from a tenday’s holiday in the Abyss. We’re in the midst of a town cursed by unholy dangers and hidden evil. We’ve just uncovered a plot that had risen to the highest levels of the most popular church in town. We just finished a day of desperate battles, and most likely tomorrow will be just as intense, if Jenya’s divination is successful. Assassins that want us dead are in all likelihood still out there, and no doubt the evil intelligence that came up with that cage now has an interest in us as well.”

Mole listened patiently throughout Arun’s diatribe. When he’d finished, she just stood there, blankly, before turning to Beorna. “So, Beorna, what do you think we should be called? I kinda think ‘Mole’s Crusaders’ has a nice sound to it, don’t you agree?”

Arun glanced over at Hodge, for the moment envying him his unconsciousness.

Seeing that her audience wasn’t quite prepared for the momentous duty of selecting a name for their adventuring company, Mole turned to the items she’d bought for them at Skie’s. Her bag of holding had picked up a surprising quantity of loot for a single day of trouble, and she had tried to buy something for everyone in the group.

Dannel already bore his prize, a magical quiver that contained an extradimensional space that could hold several times the typical quantity of arrows. Given their difficulties in finding a fletcher on Occipitus, it seemed a useful thing to have.

Mole had bought herself a small magical dagger, a weapon superior to her tiny knife, but otherwise of the size that a human would use to cut bread. She’d also acquired a small rust-colored sack that Skie had been delighted to demonstrate for her; the bag contained a tiny furry ball that could be hurled from the bag to become a real live animal. The animals only lasted a short time, and they weren’t truly real, she knew, but the device was just too fascinating to pass up, especially at the discounted rate.

Perhaps feeling a bit guilty at buying two things for herself, Mole had splurged on items for the others. For Hodge she’d bought a pair of heavy winter boots, enchanted with magic that protected their wearer from cold weather. For Arun, she’d gotten several vials filled with potions that offered various enhancements useful in battle. And for Zenna, knowing her friend’s constant obsession with magic, Skie had provided a select choice of potent arcane scrolls, for addition to her spellbook.

The gnome turned to Beorna, a guilty expression suddenly appearing on her face. “I am sorry, Beorna... I forgot to get you something. A share of the treasure is properly yours...”

“Don’t worry, Mole,” the dwarf woman replied. “Doing good can be its own reward. And besides, I have already gotten several items; this ring, and the cloak and amulet that yon fell priest will not be needing anymore.”

“Oh, okay then!” Mole said cheerfully.

“Any rumors on the street about today’s activities?” Arun asked.

Dannel responded for her. “No, it’s surprisingly quiet,” the elf said. “It can’t be a secret that something’s wrong, not with half the Watch going in and out of the temple of Kelemvor all afternoon.”

“These people are cowed,” Beorna said. “They have been humbled into huddling like cravens in their homes, and not asking questions that might have unpleasant answers.”

Dannel frowned. “They’re good people, at heart. The folk of Cauldron have suffered greatly in the last year, however. Anyone would be changed some, under such conditions.”

“Well, that is what I am here to change,” the templar replied simply.

The door down the hall opened, and Mole darted off to share her tales with Zenna. Dannel followed, after a nod to the two dwarves.

“You travel with interesting companions, Golden Boy,” Beorna said, when they had left.

“My name is Arun.”

“Well, what do you know, you can speak to me after all,” she said. “For a moment, I feared that your tongue tied into knots at the appearance of one of your own kind.”

Arun glanced at Hodge.

“Aye, yes, he’s your friend, and a stout fellow he is, although I’d prefer it if he bathed at least once a year. But that’s not what I’m getting at. You’re an odd fellow, Arun Goldenshield... a puzzle, and I don’t generally like puzzles that I cannot figure out.”

“I am what you see before you,” the paladin said simply.

“Aye, and I saw what manner of man you are, this day.”

“I do what I feel that I must.”

“A philosophy that I share. But beyond that simple answer lies deeper truths, I suspect.”

He looked at her. “Is that not always the case?”

She nodded, and for a long moment they sat there, silent. Finally, she rose.

“We shall have another long day tomorrow, and my bed seems preferable to the floor,” she said, indicating Hodge’s snoring figure with a nod.

Arun stood, out of politeness. The slightly archaic gesture seemed to amuse the dwarf woman. But when she turned to him again, for a final farewell, her expression was serious.

“Would you like to join me?”

It was generally held that the dark-skinned gold dwarves could not flush the way that fair-skinned folk could, but at that question Arun made a fair effort. “We have known each other for barely a full day!” he finally managed.

Beorna shrugged, and smiled. “So? We are holy warriors, but not humans, with their silly vows of chastity and asceticism. My faith does not require that of me, and neither does yours, from what I know of the Soul Forger’s code. Today we strode into the gates of fire and destruction and emerged, still drawing breath. Tomorrow we return to the jaws of battle, and may die. Who can say?”

“I said before that I didn’t understand you, Arun, but maybe I do. I’ve walked a solitary path all my life... an outsider even among those I called my brothers and sisters. Our path, it’s demanding of even the strongest soul... and it can be lonely, too.”

For just a moment, she let her defenses down, and he could see inside, to the depths that she kept bottled away under her tough outer shell. It was very familiar, for it was a reflection of what he himself had kept buried ever since he’d been banished from his people, with only his honor to keep him company. Since coming here to Cauldron, he’d found the warmth of friendship, but Beorna’s words reminded him that there was more, something he’d nearly allowed himself to forget.

He came to her, and his smile was deep.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 265

Their first attempt to reach Karran-Kural ended in failure.

Jenya’s commune had been at least partially successful, as it had revealed that the place was linked to both the cage they’d captured and the greater danger threatening Cauldron. In response to a question to the celestial agent of Helm contacted via her spell, she’d learned that Karran-Kural was beneath Cauldron, somewhere in the structure of the volcano, and that evil still dwelled there.

The companions quickly decided to seek out this place, and hopefully find more answers. Jenya promised to continue her divinatory efforts, to try and prove the veil of shadow that covered the conspiracy that had included the church of Kelemvor in its ranks.

Although they only had a name, and a general location from the commune, again magic stepped in to offer a solution. Jenya had prayed to her god for a powerful location spell named find the path, which should have guided them directly to Karran-Kural.

Perhaps it would have. But they’d only barely entered one of the dozens of old lava tubes that tunneled under the caldera when they reached a tunnel entirely flooded with cold, clear water.

“Looks like we’re going to need to take a swim,” Dannel had commented.

Hodge had reacted with more vigor. “In that? We ain’t fishes, elf! This Kural place could be a mile under that, fer all we know!”

But Dannel had looked to Zenna, and she nodded. “We’ll try again tomorrow,” she said. “But first, there’s someone we should talk to, someone who may be able to help...”

* * * * *

The grove was quiet, even somber, a respite from the sounds of activity at the nearby docks and shops on the lake. Once a park, the small haven had become overgrown and fecund, with thick tangles of brush choking the once pleasant walking paths, and the trees forming an interlacing canopy that left a deep shade under their expansive boughs.

There were no signs of other visitors. It was as if the grove were in a different world entirely, with an invisible boundary separating it from the rest of the city.

“Beautiful... but also sad,” Dannel said, fingering a drooping flower that protruded out from a bush that nodded out over the path.

“This friend o’ yers, she lives out ‘ere in the open?” Hodge said, regarding the vegetation dubiously. He rubbed his nose, stifling a sneeze. “Gah! Flowers.” He swept out his axe, removing several of the offending blossoms in a single sweep.

As if in response, the wall of brush stirred, then thrashed wildly with sudden motion. The companions drew back as a dark shadow appeared in the bushes, which parted to reveal a huge, ferocious-looking bestial face, with beady eyes and dark brown fur. Its body was huge; the whole of the creature had to be at least ten feet long. It snarled, its huge jaws opening to reveal a copious quantity of pointed teeth.

“Umm... nice doggy,” Hodge said, weakly.