The Stepchildren of Fate (Updated 6/3)

[htetickrt]

The End of Szith Morcane​

Snicker tries to fly over to Kai’s body, but is repelled by the wall of force. He keens once, a cry of pain and loss, and then takes the long way out through the hole in the floor. Rhien goes with him to collect the sorceress’ body, tears falling like blood from a wound that cannot heal.

Kyree rifles through the bodies of the dead drow and half-ogre, looking for anything of value. He quails upon touching the barbarian’s demon armor and unholy spiked chain, unable to grasp the evil implements without negative energy suffusing and weakening him.

Trella snaps to at this point, and orders her two elementals to pound the foul things into sheets. They comply with efficient strength, rendering both forever useless before departing for their own plane.

When they are gone, she turns to her remaining friends with a lump in her throat. “What’s the tally?” she asks quietly.

Rhien answers in a similar tone. “Kai and Chag are both dead and poisoned. Khail and Erdrick were slain by more conventional means, though I fear that Erdrick’s altered behavior immediately before his demise indicates a serious mental injury. Quid and Steve both live, in a sense, encased within stone. We will need to find a potent arcane or divine caster to return them to sentience.

Snicker interjects with a telepathic command. <Kai can do it. Bring her back!>

Rhien tries to respond placatingly, but Snicker will have none of it. <She can use her ring. Bring her back!>

Rhien nods, understanding. “If Kai can indeed perform this task, that would be highly beneficial. We’ll bring her back as soon as we can, Snicker.”

Mollified, the pseudodragon wraps its tail protectively around her unmoving neck and half-closes his eyes in watchful rest.

Trella stares sadly at the prismatic sphere. “What about Calla?”

This time it is Kyree’s turn to speak. “I don’t honestly know. We were both fighting the archmage in the dark, when she apparently was shoved into the prismatic sphere. We’ll have to wait until it falls, I suppose.” His voice gets softer. “Though that bastard counted her off, so I don't think the prospects of her survival are good.”

Trella sighs and rises to her feet. “Fine. Gather up all of the bodies and put them in Khail’s portable hole. As soon as the wall of force falls, I want all of these rooms ransacked. Get anything of value that we could sell. As soon as the sphere drops we’ll get whatever remains of Calla and get out of here. I don’t want to see this blasted place a minute longer than I have to.”

Rhien and Kyree nod and get to the grisly tasks of body collection and corpse searching. Snicker at first refuses to leave Kai’s side, but relents after the situation is explained to him three or four times.

Kyree discovers that the wall of force is gone about twenty minutes later, and moves into the richly appointed room that apparently served as Solom’s bedchambers. Decadent luxury was the order of the day when the room was furnished, with the centerpiece a gigantic bed draped with soft silks and velvets. A low dresser next to the bed holds a smoldering brazier that sends thick smoke with a heavy odor of sandalwood into the air. A plush divan smothered with pillows stands against another wall, and on the floor beside it sits a short stack of books. Kyree dumps the last into a sack for Kai’s later perusal, where they are soon joined by a pile of precious metals, courtesy of a secret safe.

While the archer explores the bedroom, Rhien searches the library. Books and scrolls spill over every available shelf surface, their organization not aided by the wrestling match that just took place in the chamber. Rhien shovels them all into Quid’s bag of holding, shrugging off the burst of fire that arises from Solom's trapped spellbooks.

Trella picks half-heartedly through the spoils in the audience chamber, mostly waiting for the prismatic sphere to fail. When it finally does so the absence of Calla is not really a surprise, but it nevertheless sends the druid into a paroxysm of anger, which only passes once she runs out of curios to smash.

Rhien joins her once he is done. “We'll get her back, Trella.”

Tears spill unchecked down her ruddy cheeks. “Yes, we will. Or I'll bring down the whole bloody Underdark on top of the drow.”

The monk looks away, uncomfortable both with the sentiment and the slight echo of it he feels in his own darkening thoughts.

Kyree emerges soon after. “Let's go. I feel the need to be aboveground.”

The trek back to the surface is slow and silent and, as beautiful as the night is on the surface, it provides little comfort to the trio. Rhien offers, “I'll stand watch here,” and the two elves take him up on it, moving to the woods.

They come back on the third day from the death of Solom to return Kai to the living. Her body, wrapped in cloth within the extradimensional space, is withdrawn and laid out along the bare earth by Rhien. “We have need of you, my friend,” the monk whispers, and smooths her lustrous hair back from her face. The touch triggers the potent magic of the gloves, and she returns to life with a start as her soul reenters her body. The sorceress struggles to a sitting position, made difficult by Snicker's need to wrap his tail around her neck just then. Once in place, the pseudodragon purrs somewhat smugly.

Kai’s first action is took look around for her friends. “Khail, Quid, Calla, and Erdrick, are they...?”

Rhien nods sadly. “Khail and Erdrick are dead. Quid is stone, but Snicker informs us that you can restore her.” The tiny dragon exclaims <She can!>, earning a flicker of a smile from the young woman. “Of Calla, we know not. Her body was not found.” The monk pauses, looking pained. “I am sorry I failed you.”

Kai sighs and rises to her feet. “We all failed, Rhien.” Her voice quavers as she says this, but she dutifully alters her ring to provide the service needed. “I'll restore them, and then....” Her voice trails off, leaving the thought unstated.

As the stone melts off of Quid, the priestess prepares to continue the battle from below. Eventually the stubborn Waukeenar is convinced of the party's victory—though she does point out the need to desecrate the altar in Szith Morcane to alleviate her geas—and is given the accumulated treasure to assess its worth. This calms her, as the others knew it would, and the partially-reconstituted party settles in to make the hard decisions: How to bring back Khail, Erdrick, and Calla, how long to wait before returning to the Underdark, and how to approach the city of Maerimydra to stop the Great Revenance, whatever that might be.

[End of Part I. At this point I started making more story-hour-ish notes, so hopefully I can now keep up a faster posting rate. Hopefully my pauses haven't scared too many people off. As always, feedback is extremely welcome.]

 

[htetickrt]

Regroup and Rearm​

Hands clenching and unclenching in barely restrained anger, Trella moves to the mausoleum in which Earl’s stony form resides. “I’ll help with the altar, Quid, but I want Earl restored.”

Though a little pale and distant, Kai agrees with a nod to return the unicorn to flesh. "I'll come along to help deal with the altar, too, just in case anything unexpected crops up," she adds quietly to no one in particular. Then she withdraws, cradling Snicker, to think things over for a while.

Kyree’s eyes pass quickly over her, his entire demeanor betraying his preoccupation. “Let’s wait on everything else until after restoring Earl. For now, I need to be alone with my thoughts.” He abruptly trots off toward the nearby woods.

Quid yawns, stretching out stiff muscles. “We should rescue Calla as well, though possibly after dealing with the Drow threat.”

Kai pulls herself together somewhat after overhearing this, and returns to the discussion, though still not making eye contact. "I don't think we should leave her any longer than we have to," she begins, and after a pause explains, "We might not survive the next threat, and I'm sure she would really appreciate every effort we can make on her behalf. We should take care of Quid's geas first, and then try to help Calla, if it doesn't interfere with raising poor Khail."

With her geas flaring up again, Quid offers, “I need to go back by tomorrow with the appropriate spell memorized. I also need to return to the destroyed marketplace and consecrate it in the name of Waukeen. I don’t want to hole up here for too long, though, due to the rising threat of this Great Revenance. While we’re shopping, I’ll put out more feelers for information, and maybe see if I can acquire some funding or other aid.”

Trella says, “I’ll scry for Calla before we leave for the altar. I’m going to hallow it after you desecrate it, just to tick off whatever craven gods these drow worship. Frigging underground dirt bags.”

Rhien coughs delicately. “Not to dampen your fervor, Trella, but is it really your intent to expend such a large amount of your own personal energy and wealth on making an altar to Lolth hallowed in the name of Silvanus?”

Trella sighs. “Fine, party pooper, I’ll just consecrate it instead. Happy?”

Rhien smiles wanly. “Greatly.”

Kyree pads back into camp then, startling those present with the sudden opinion, “No, money is a more valuable resource to us now than time. Aside from Quid's geas, there's no need to rush back in there. We've done a lot of damage to the drow in there; the raids should stop, or at least be seriously reduced, for the next tenday or two. We could always camp out near the exit to the cave to make sure no one gets out. But when we go back in there, we need to make sure we're as well equipped as possible. If waiting a few more days lets us go back in there with better weapons, better armor, better healing, or whatever, I say we wait. Besides, it'll give us time to figure out how to cure Erdrick's insanity and to find out where Calla is.

"In the meantime," he continues, looking up towards the sky, "I need to go somewhere to take care of something. Kai, or Quid, could you teleport me to Ssrenshen, in Deepingdale? The Common name for it is Moonrise Hill."

Trella whirls on the archer. “I thought you had gone off to be alone?”

Kyree placidity is unaffected. “I had. Now I am back.”

Trella refuses to let him off so easily. “You only left a minute ago.”

“I travel quickly. It is the way of the elves.”

The druid snorts incredulously. “A year ago you weren’t sure drow were evil; now you’re lecturing me about elves?”

“I have been getting in touch with my spiritual side.”

“Was that the side that took you to the woods and back in about a minute?”

“No, my feet did that.”

“Argh!” Trella screams and stalks off.

“What’s she so mad about?” Kyree inquires. He is met with silence.

Kai changes the subject, having warmed up to the strategic line of thought. “As I said, I’ll bring back Earl today, but perhaps we should summon a scout to find out for us what's going on in the Underdark before making any further decisions? If there's no sign of a gathering assault, it won't hurt us to take more time to prepare; otherwise I think we have the resources to resurrect our friends now.”

Quid responds to Kai’s earlier point, "I agree that the rescuing of Calla is of utmost importance but I fear for the other lives that may be lost if this drow threat is left unchecked. I will concede waiting a tenday if the rest think that is appropriate.
Kyree's logic stands to reason. However, the time delay in retrieving Calla may have devastating consequences. A full accounting of costs and benefits must be made.

“‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few ... or the one’: Book of Khan 23:6.”

Kyree uncomfortably shifts his weight and agrees that Calla should be rescued as soon as possible. Noting the elf’s obvious guilt, Rhien places a hand on his shoulder in sympathy.

Quid smiles, unable to completely stifle a joke. Covering, she offers to teleport Kyree to where he desires to go, as long as he is willing to wait a day. The elf agrees, deciding to leave after the geas is removed and Calla is scried. He smiles and attempts to express his appreciation, but Quid has already stopped paying attention. Kyree resolves to offer money next time.

Quid turns back to Kai. "A scout would be a good idea. Perhaps Erdrick can send a few of his men, assuming some of them are scouts. I can try connections within the church. Perhaps a Divine Seeker of Waukeen can be found? Or, I could summon a greater or lesser planar ally who could scout for us in exchange for some kind of favor. That may not be a bad idea, if someone has a good idea of what to summon."

Trella is inclined to agree with Kyree that even if it takes longer, saving money is prudent. Getting a sudden idea, she says, "Let's find Erdrick's buddies, his fellow soldiers or whatever." She shrugs at her lack of articulation. "They need to know he fell in a good fight. They might even pitch in for his resurrection. Can't hurt, right?"

Quid answers approvingly, “True, true. Didn’t Erdrick say they’d be here soon? May as well wait.” Soon after saying her piece, the priest laments the lack of a wizard in the group, for one might be most fruitfully outfitted with the spoils of victory that she is now moving to examine in more detail.

Kai is dumbfounded by Quid’s assessment, focusing on one particular item. "You don't want the headband? Doesn't anybody else want the headband?" She looks around in bewilderment at the rest of the group. "I guess I'd understand if everyone else really wants to sell it, but…just think what it might be like to go through life that much smarter!"

Trella rolls her eyes, puts on the headband, adjusts its fit, and sticks her tongue out at everyone. Then she grabs a stick and tries to solve the three-color map problem in the dirt.

Kai looks taken aback, but eventually gives Trella a smile that, while really pretty weak, is also the first she's cracked since she was resurrected. “Shall I restore Earl now, Trella?”

“Most assuredly,” Trella chirps. Kai groans and casts her spell; Earl and Trella head off into the woods to renew their bond soon after.

Kyree stares after her. “Why is she entering the forest if she was put out by my doing so earlier?” Kai gapes at him. “What?” he inquires innocently.

The next morning Trella is back in camp, her enhanced intellect flooding her mind with new ideas. Soon a scrying pool is constructed, and the druid has located Calla’s location within its depths.

She finds the stone form of Calla standing intact upon a raised marble dais that rests in a windowed nook of a larger room. Outside, plumes of crimson magma erupt from frozen geysers, ignoring the unlikelihood of such a pairing.

Trella gulps and draws back from the halfling to take in the rest of the room, but she finds little to assuage her growing sense of hopelessness. A mammoth humanoid, which can only be a titan, sits idly in a gargantuan divan, toying with a knife many times larger than the druid while humming a long forgotten ditty to himself and pondering his new statuary.

Leaping to a stand, Trella exclaims, “We have to save her!”

Rhien and Kai share a look, and the latter shakes her head sadly at Trella. “As much as I would like to, the titan is imprisoned in Carceri. Even if we could find our way in, we would have no way of escaping. We’d be doomed along with her.” The sorceress’ pained look illustrates her obvious distaste for this eventuality.

Trella’s shoulders slump. “Mightn’t resurrection or even metempsychosis be a viable option?”

Kyree starts. “Metem-whatsis?” he blurts.

Kai shakes her head. “Her soul resides with her; as long as the titan keeps her safe, we can do nothing.”

Rhien adds, “We’d best hope he does keep her intact, as Carceri is proof against escape of the souls of man—or halfling.”

Trella sighs, feeling badly. “Very well, a rescue has to wait until after we complete this mission. However, before heading back down, we should let it be known to the more honorable and noble folk, like those Zeran freaks, that a person battling an evil drow archmage was lost and is in need of rescue. Maybe they'll beat us to it as some holy quest or whatever. That way, if we don't return, someone knows she is lost. I will also let other druids know as I plan to make some local inquiries on another matter."

Chastened by chance yet again, the party separates to think and pray, readying themselves for a brief trip below. Between breakfast and heading out, however, the long awaited troupe of Erdrick’s followers arrive, stare with distrust at the party, and fall into an uneasy silence.

Quickly taking their measure, Trella advances toward them. Noting the presence of the Helmite priest in the lead, she inclines her head slightly. “Well met, all,” she begins, smiling toothily, “you must be Erdrick’s men.” A woman in the back coughs, and Trella smoothly amends, “and women.”

The Helmite gets right to the point. “Where is Lord Erdrick?”

Trella’s tanned face moves gracefully to a sympathetic frown. “I am afraid he is presently deceased, along with his mount, Chagripor. Both fought bravely below in the bowels of the Underdark, but fell to the combined might of a warrior of utmost puissance and an odious drow archmage. We have healed both of their mystical afflictions, but I fear that we must wait another five days to return him to life. Unless, of course, you have some means of resurrecting him?” The druid looks hopeful.

The Helmite blanches, and slowly shakes his head as he attempts to process the loss of his leader and friend. When he announces his uselessness, Trella starts counting backwards from ten. "Nine...eight..."

Kyree snickers, “Wow, that headband is proving its worth already.”

The druid swiftly changes shape into a triceratops and roars at Kyree, daring the elf to say that again. Kyree quickly backs off, muttering, “Oh, like no one else noticed her wild swings in speech patterns. If you ask me, the thing’s defective.” He stops muttering at a glare from the triceratops.

Erdrick’s dismayed men retreat in fear at Trella’s display. After the druid returns to her usual form, the priest suggests that Erdrick’s body be brought back to Cormyr where he and his mount can be raised 'properly' by a high priest of Helm. Clearly uncertain of the exact intentions of their late leader's new acquaintances, especially since both Erdrick and his mount have died in their company, the troupe stares suspiciously at the party.

Trella shrugs and agrees to take the bodies of them both to a priest of their choosing. She recounts his battles in more depth, including his last, emphasizing his potency and bravery whenever possible. Then she shows them her many scars and relates the stories behind them. This keeps them busy for a while, until Kyree interrupts.

“We're not paying for that, right?” the elf asks. “Because I thought we decided it made sense to resurrect people with Rhien's gloves because we need to save our cash.”

Kyree’s words snap them out of their attentiveness. The Helmite’s face grows dour, and he says, “Our duty to Cormyr and Helm and Erdrick is clear. We will procure a wagon for the noble Chagripor, and return the bodies of our leader and his mount to the head priest of Helm in our region. He is more than capable of resurrecting him as repayment of past services rendered, in addition to a small donation. I trust that Erdrick has received his just share of any loot you have received?”

Trella nods, sighing. The priest concludes, “Excellent. Knobbyfoot will take down your contact information, so that the mighty Erdrick might find you again if you have been judged honorable.”

A young man moves forward shyly, brandishing quill and ink while unwinding a scroll. “Official group name?”

“Huh?” Trella replies.

The man blushes. “Your, er, officially registered Cormyrian group name, miss.”

Kyree giggles, “Miss?”

Trella glares at the elf. “We’ve never been registered. You can call us the Stepchildren of Fate, kid.”

Knobbyfoot dutifully scribes this, all the while looking disturbed at the breach of protocol. “Likely location?”

“Um, somewhere in the Underdark,” Trella offers helpfully.

The Helmite drags Knobbyfoot away before he even finishes scribing the last answer. “We’ll be in touch,” he grumbles, and leads the troupe away, after his soldiers secure Erdrick, Chagripor, and their share of the loot.

Kyree looks pensively at them. “I don’t think they’re coming back.”

Trella scowls. “Maybe you should wear the headband.”

The archer throws up his arms. “Hey, someone has to say this stuff when Khail’s not around.”

Quid sighs at the diminished pile of gold. “Can we go eliminate my geas now?”

Kai sighs back at her, staring at Erdrick’s retreating soldiers. “I can’t see why not.” A half-hour later the group again stands within the House Morcane level.

Quid moves to the ladder up, but Kyree holds her back. “Didn’t we leave a mess of dead bodies here?” the elf asks.

Trella barely looks up from her thoughts as she replies, “Yeah, wall-to-wall. Why?”

Kyree gestures expansively. “Well, do you see all of them? For instance, that troll?”

Trella gapes at the room, but cannot make the huge fighter return. Shaking her surprise off, she says, “It doesn’t matter; he was toast. Let’s move on.”

Kyree shrugs and moves to the ladder. Once the party ascends, Quid makes everyone ethereal, and all rush the likely location of the ghost. Rhien reaches her first, pummeling the priestess of Lolth with a series of five blows that sends her reeling. Trella’s staff provides the finishing touches, and the priestess is again destroyed before she can act.

This time, however, Quid is prepared to end her existence for good. Summoning Waukeen’s holy essence, the merchant priest shatters the altar to Lolth with a mighty evocation. As the broken stone slabs tumble to the ground, Quid feels the geas lift, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

Trella, not satisfied with this, proceeds to consecrate the area in the name of Silvanus, relaxing only when positive energy floods the dark area.

Quid taps her head. “Great minds think alike,” she says, and takes a short trip to the bazaar level. There she consecrates the area to Waukeen, visibly pleased as this too radiates holiness, in addition to strong economic potential. Then the party returns to the surface to continue its plans.

 

[htetickrt]

A Little Reconnaissance​

As discussed, upon reaching the surface Quid invokes a potent prayer, calling a paragon of celestial beauty to her side. A brief telepathic exchange ensues, eventually leading to an agreement to exchange time for time, though the extensive bickering over the fine print would have driven any non-Waukeenar mad long before the end of the bargaining process.

Kyree taps his feet impatiently against the soft earth as the astral deva leaves. “Time to go now?”

Quid sighs, forced down too soon from her transaction high. “Sure. Kai, are you coming? We’ll shop afterwards.”

Kai nods. “Will the rest of you be fine here?” she inquires, but Trella and Earl are already gone, off into the woods.

Rhien smiles slightly. “Try to enjoy yourself. I’ll watch the entrance.” Kai’s answering look is difficult to decipher.

******************************

“So, that’s where we stand.” Having brought the newly resurrected Khail up to speed, Quid returns to cataloguing the value of her recent purchases before their inevitable depreciation makes her dealings seem less beneficial.

Khail studies the sky, watching the thick black clouds roll in. “I am sorry I could not be of more help against Solom.”

Rhien heads off such talk. “We are just happy to have you back.”

Kyree mutters, “Yeah, happy,” while thumbing through a stack of yellowed parchment. Perched on his shoulder is a fine example of a hawk; the fact that it has not yet been introduced to the party does not seem to bother it as it aggressively preens itself.

Khail is nonplussed. “Is something different about you, friend Kyree?” he asks, and then when Kyree does not respond, follows with, “Who is your new friend?”

It takes the elf a full minute to register the latter question. When he finally does so, he favors the paladin with a smile. “This is Spot. He was nearly struck by an arrow during the tribute to Solonar, and decided to come with me after I healed him. Isn’t he splendid?” Kyree ruffles Spot’s feathers affectionately. Quid mouths the word ‘splendid’ behind the elf’s back, almost causing Kai to choke on her lunch.

The elf notices and narrows his eyes. “I heard that. We elves are nothing if not observant.”

“Enjoyed your time in Deepingdale, did you?” Quid queries, stifling her own laugh.

“Greatly. They gave me some literature to read. And the archery competition was the best in which I’ve participated.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Can I interest you in a tale about Solonar? He has something for everyone, I think.”

Quid gapes incredulously. “Are you proselytizing? To me?”

“Um, maybe?”

“I’m a Waukeenar, Kyree.”

“Oh, do they not like archery?”

Quid throws up her hands. “No, we find it morally offensive,” she exclaims, and storms off into the crypt entrance, to escape both Kyree and the incipient rain.

Kyree follows once the first drops spot a sheet of parchment. “What’s wrong with her?” he asks no one in particular. The others choose to assume the question is rhetorical.

A few hours later, Trella returns, skipping through the heart of the thunderstorm. Behind her is a hulking brute of a bear, his cold eyes glaring at those assembled as if he had just found his next meal. The druid, unperturbed by rain or beast, smiles at the assemblage, bites off a hunk of stale bread and old cheese, and says, “Guys, Mr. Flopsy. Mr. Flopsy, guys.” The dire bear roars a hello. Or perhaps he is just angry; it’s difficult to tell.

Quid starts. "Flopsy?"

Trella replies, "That's MR. FLOPSY to you, b*tch." The druid playfully thwacks Quid in the arm, then laughs, strips off her clothes, and delights in the torrential rain beating against her naked form. Khail blushes and suddenly finds his muddy boots very interesting.

His awkward silence is thankfully broken with the sudden appearance of the beautiful astral deva. Kyree, having noted her invisible entrance a moment earlier, chuckles, “Saw you.”

The deva raises an eyebrow, but does not respond. Instead she addresses Quid. “Pursuant to our contract, I have engaged in extensive reconnaissance in what you term the ‘Underdark’ over a span of three of your days. I regret that the opportunity to disrupt the enemy did not arise, though my hewing to subsection three’s clause allowing for no direct confrontations perhaps had something to do with this. To complete the contract, I will now offer up my gathered information.”

Kyree looks confused, flipping quickly through his stack of parchment. “I thought I read that devas were more, uh…noble?”

The deva frowns. “I am the very epitome of nobility. Why do you doubt this, mortal? I sense no taint about you.”

Quid intervenes before he can further anger the celestial. “He’s just not used to the glorious terminology of the contract. Please, proceed with your report.”

“Very well, but I will keep my eye on you, strange elf.” Kyree grumbles; the deva addresses Quid.

“The tunnel you have already found leads to the Underdark, and for a span of seventeen miles there is naught but roving bands of tainted souls. I would be surprised if one who could compel my presence would have much difficulty with them, though there is an element of stochasticity involved.

“The road forks after this. Left a tunnel of thirty-five miles led to a dead end and a trio of odious spirit naga, their sickly yellow eyes viewing me as their next meal. Needless to say my heavy mace bashed in their heads with alacrity, and I took my leave of them. I give you their goods as per subsection five of our agreement, factoring their expected value into the cost of your future service.” She pauses to distribute the minor treasures, before continuing.

“Taking then the other passage at the fork, I made my way to the Lake of Shadows indicated on your map. There I encountered a band of stone giants guarding the passage onward, but they were not hostile and our parley revealed to me the presence of kuo-toas and the ‘devil-kraken’ they worship. Plus something called a ‘lobster-crawler.’

“After passing invisibly over the water, I came to a sheer cliff face after an additional eighteen miles. There I met a cadre of kir-lanan gargoyles, and was forced to retreat from the potent shadow dragon they serve after being greatly weakened by its cone of insidious shadows. Knowing I alone could not likely triumph against the dragon, I thought it best to return and impart what wisdom I could, in satisfaction of our contract.

“You may now ask of me what you will.”

Quid inclines her head respectfully. "Thank you for your report. Can I ask your name, in case I may require future service? I also have a few other questions."

The deva answers, "You may call me...Arbitrage. My truename is not for you to know."

Quid smiles. “Thank you, Arbitrage. It is a name of honor and beauty. If I may ask, how deep is the water?”

“There is no flattery term in my utility function, so your blandishments will not alter my behavior. Not having entered the water, I cannot answer your question.”

Quid continues, "Can you hazard a guess as to what the big lobster crawler was that the giants referred to?"

“I prefer to act when I have perfect information only. The mathematics are easier that way.”

“I don’t suppose you have any additional information about the kraken or the dragon, do you?”

The deva smirks. “Do you doubt your contracting skills, Quidlyn of Waukeen? Do you believe there is a loophole I could use to withhold information to sell later at a profit?”

“Of course not,” Quid coughs, but a glimmer of uncertainty flashes in her eyes. “But it cannot hurt to ask. It’s just cheap talk, after all.”

“Waukeen would be pleased with your progress. No, in answer to your question I do not have any additional information.”

Kyree puts in, “Then why did you ask if we had any questions?”

“It is de rigueur.”

“Huh?”

This draws Trella’s attention, and she stops wrestling with Mr. Flopsy to add her own opinion to the mix. “Listen lady, we’ve met solars and fought pit fiends, so drop the ‘tude. We’re not impressed, and no one mocks Kyree but us.”

“I was not mocking your friend.”

“Whatever.”

Arbitrage turns back to Quid. “You have chosen to surround yourself with a most strange assortment of mortals, Quidlyn. I hope you are getting a sufficient return on your investment here.”

“Don’t worry, I am,” Quid replies, smiling.

“Good. It would be difficult to enter the highest levels of Waukeen’s service without demonstrating such. Regardless, this completes my end of the contract. I will return to call on you when Waukeen requires your aid. Be ready." The deva vanishes.

Khail sighs. “Such a creature of beauty, yet so base her discourse.”

Quid scowls. “Who are you calling base?”

“Hmm? Nothing; I meant nothing by it. It is just that business is so coarse an endeavor.”

“Coarse?”

“Well, yes, I think it so. Nothing personal, of course. You are devoid of taint.”

“Well gee, thanks Khail.”

The paladin turns to Kyree. “Have I said something wrong?”

Kyree shrugs. “She’s just touchy about religion. Probably because she doesn’t know the teachings of Solonar the way I do.”

Quid shakes her head. “I’m surrounded by idiots,” she mutters.

Trella interjects, “Speaking of idiots, does anyone want to cowboy up some funds for invisibility and flight items? Sounds like that’s the best way to go.”

Kai replies, “It sounds like the journey is long, and with the size of our band,” she glances at Mr. Flopsy, “I’m not sure it’s feasible to keep everyone flying and invisible the whole way. Wind walking might be a viable option. Still, we could end up trapped between two warring factions, or worse.”

“Plus, anything that would be fooled by simple invisibility would likely not be much of a threat, anyway,” Quid adds. “We could wind walk past the kraken, though.”

Kai answers, “Let’s walk to the lake, and speak with the giants when there. Perhaps they have a way of dealing with the kraken, so that we can conserve resources for the dragon.”

Trella nods. “It’s a plan then. We leave first thing in the morning.”

“Why then?” Rhien asks.

“I want to enjoy the rain a little more,” Trella answers with a laugh. “Come on Mr. Flopsy, let’s get muddy!”

****************************

Two dozen or so hours later, the druid’s mood is far less upbeat, as she and her companions creep along the Deep Wastes of the Underdark, straining to sift the slightest sound of trouble from the ambient noise of the echoing tunnel. Not for the first time, Quid curses as she stumbles into a frigid stream.”

“Argh! I think it’s been days since I’ve had feeling in my toes.”

“We’ve only been down here for about eight hours, Quid,” Kai grumbles, trying not to think about the water seeping into her own boots.

“Seems like days, anyway.”

“Shhh,” Kyree cuts in. “I hear chanting ahead. We’ve got company.”

 

[htetickrt]

The Journey to the Lake​

Before another action can be taken, a dense wall of what appears to be webbing springs into being in front of the group, completely sealing off the party from whatever lurks in the dark. Trella shares a look with Mr. Flopsy, prepared to charge as soon as Kai tackles the wall.

Kyree aims high, firing a full spread of arrows at the lurker he senses above. The odd creature reels upward under the multiple impacts, but the elf does not comprehend sufficient details of its alien physiology to discern its health after his assault.

Kai sends a narrow bolt of lightning off in the direction of the chanting. The bolt strikes the webbing with potent force, but fizzles out after traveling less than an inch through the iron-hard substance.

Trella notes that the wall does not catch fire after Kai’s bolt and curses creatively in Sylvan. Switching gears, she charges the webbing, hacking at it with her quarterstaff. Trella discovers that the stuff is no more vulnerable to martial persuasion, however, as her weapon barely widens the dent made by the lightning. Nevertheless, Earl charges in behind her and adds a nick to the total damage with his horn.

Khail leaves the lurkers to others and advances on the web, cutting a chunk an inch thick through it. The remaining four inches mock him with their interconnectedness, as does the slow chanting that continues from the other side.

The lurker leaps down upon Kyree, seeking to smother him, but the elf nimbly avoids it. Vulnerable now on the ground, Rhien ends its life with a brutal axe kick that ruptures its centrally located internal organs. The monk approaches the web after this, joining the rest of the band as they tear into the substance with blade, claw, and spell.

Slow progress is made, but the wall is not breached before its maker’s hand emerges from inside it, unfettered by its strong strands. The long-nailed fingers, delicate and dusky, twist in the gestures of magic, summoning a carpet of spiders and a thin black beam. The former blankets the area, making concentration impossible; the latter targets Khail, sending him to his knees as it saps his very life force. Seconds later a cage of green energy descends upon him, but the paladin manages to roll out of the way just in time to avoid being trapped.

The group speeds its efforts, and soon after breaches the wall of webbing, revealing a matched pair: a female drow, attired in robes bearing numerous arachnid-oriented ornamentation, and a gargantuan stone spider, with sharp jade spikes studding each of its eight huge legs.

Khail is unimpressed, shouting, “For good!” despite the bleeding wound the spider opens in his abdomen as he charges. Trella rolls her eyes, tasking Mr. Flopsy with stifling the drow. This the dire bear does with aplomb, wrapping the thin humanoid up in his giant claws. The drow struggles, but cannot escape during the two seconds it takes for Kyree to line up his shot and end the drow’s life with a volley of perfectly-placed arrows.

While the elf pumps his fist in the air, his companions turn to the spider, reducing it to rubble in a matter of moments. Chunks the size of an ogre’s head smash against the cavern floor, and a cloud of fine jade dust billows from each impact. Between the corpses of tiny spiders and the particulate matter in the air, the passage back quickly becomes impassable, and the party stumbles and chokes its way further into the Underdark.

The group stops to discard the drow’s looted corpse after escaping the mess. Trella watches Khail and Kyree do the honors as she taps her staff to the ground worriedly. “Sound echoes wicked much here, doesn’t it Mr. Flopsy?”

The dire bear makes a sound not unlike Chewbacca’s signature response, and Trella looks worried again, though this time due to potential lawsuits. “We should expect trouble,” she finishes wanly.

Khail returns, looking proud. “Trouble is my middle name.”

Quid raises an eyebrow. “That beam drain your brain?”

Khail answers, “Huh?”

“Forget it.”

Trella puts in, “When you’re done making jokes, I could use some help getting this ring on Mr. Flopsy’s paw.” No one takes her up on her request.

*********

“That was disgusting.” Quid is most sure of this fact.

Trella looks up from picking purple worm innards off of her hide armor. “Yeah, umber hulks are ugly buggers,” she agrees.

Quid goggles. “I was talking about the exploding worm.”

“Oh, that. They don’t normally explode. We just were a little too enthusiastic, I think.”

“I sort of figured that, Trella.”

“Then why did you ask?” Trella inquires. The druid turns to the others, tapping her headband before tracing little circles around her ear with her index finger. Quid stomps away, while Kai stifles a chuckle.

*****************

“I have to say, that death gaze was highly overrated,” Khail opines.

Rhien rolls the body of a bodak over to the caved in corpse of a bullette, clearing the passage for further movement. “Why do you say that?”

“Quid was telling those stories about Zeran the Wise the other day, and how he was, for a time, trapped as a bodak.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I just thought that someone as potent as Zeran, the Light of Lathander, would have been something less easy to kill.”

“He was cursed, Khail.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t his curses be…greater, somehow?”

Rhien tilts his head to the side. “You have an interesting view of things, my friend.”

The paladin smiles. “Thanks, Rhien. I don’t often hear that.”

Overhearing, Quid mutters, “Maybe that’s because you’re a loon.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She changes the subject. “We should maybe camp here. After getting past the stench of death, of course.”

“Good plan,” Kai adds, “The idea of feather pillows is extremely appealing right now.”

“So it’s a mansion for tonight?”

Kai half-smiles. “It’s the only way to travel.”

Unfortunately—for them—a group of troglodytes foils the plan by their flawed attempt at an ambush. As the group draws to a halt, ten reptilian creatures surround it and let loose with crossbows and spells. The element of surprise grants them an additional six seconds of life, but they are dispatched with alacrity as soon as they are noticed, with no harm done to the party, which now turns to grumbling about having to go further into the depths to avoid this new stench.

****************

“Nothing like a nine-course banquet to make one feel like a civilized person again,” Quid offers. “Kai, my complements to your chef.”

Kai inclines her head, feeling somewhat better after a night atop an overstuffed mattress. “I’ll pass them along.”

Kyree holds up a hand. “There’s someone ahead. He looks like he wants to talk.”

Kai notices the figure as he approaches. “It appears to be a half-dragon. Let me speak with him.”

Khail narrows his small gray eyes. “Very well, but I’ll be watching.”

Kai ignores him and steps forward; the half-dragon assumes that this implies leadership and he addresses her directly in Draconic. “Greetings, lesser beings. I am Sshumath Daerindra, a frequent traveler in these parts. I have great knowledge of the recent history of this region, knowledge I am willing to trade for magic that could complement my already incredible potency. I recognize that it is unlikely ones such as you possess any, but stranger things have happened.”

Kai replies cautiously, “You might be surprised, Sshumath.”

The red-tinged drow wrinkles his scaly nose. “The sacred tongue sounds…profane, coming from your fleshy lips, but I will take your knowledge of it as the compliment it was surely intended to be. Very well, share with me what you have, and I will deign to determine if anything is worth acquiring.”

Kai raises an eyebrow and prepares to get down to bargaining, but she is interrupted by Khail’s insistent hand on her shoulder.

“Tell him to raise arms and defend himself,” the burly paladin instructs.

“Why?” Kai asks incredulously.

“Because he is evil.”

“So? Everyone down here is evil, and we could use some information.”

“I am tired of making pacts with darkness and justifying it to myself. This thing is the spawn of a drow and an evil dragon, and reeks of taint to my sight. He won’t tell us anything without a trade, and he will betray us if we help him.”

“I can handle the conversation, Khail,” Kai snaps, showing some irritation.

“I have no doubt about this, Kai, but I cannot. I will attack either way; I just wanted to spare you my self-doubt after the fact.”

Kai swears that if she didn’t know Khail better, she’d think he was making a joke. “Fine. But if we get ambushed later because of this, it’s on your head.”

She turns to the half-dragon. “Before we go any further, my irrational friend wants me to inform you that he will be attacking you soon, and that you should put up arms to defend yourself.”

The half-drow sneers. “Your friend is a fool.”

Kai shrugs. “Perhaps, but he’s serious, so I’d leave if I were you.”

Sshumath makes a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a snarl. “I, flee? From you? I will crush you and choose my price from your corpses!” With that he begins to cast a spell.

Kai sighs. “He’s all yours, big guy.”

Khail manifests his sword and charges, but Mr. Flopsy beats him to the punch, tearing into Sshumath with claw and tooth. Stunned, the sorcerer tires to finish his spells, but Kyree’s first arrow ends his life in an instant as it rips through the half-dragon’s brain.

Khail, about to strike, complains, “Hey, he was mine!”

Rhien groans. “Was any of that really necessary?”

Kyree shrugs. Keeping a perfectly straight face, the archer says, “I’m sure Khail had good reasons. Who am I to question a paladin’s moral judgment?” Quid snickers and searches the body for treasure.

Rhien grumbles and stomps off ahead, determined to be the first to encounter any subsequent potential friends. Thus it is he who first comes into contact with a band of mind flayers, by way of four simultaneous mind blasts that threaten to leave the monk a drooling mess.

None of them are effective, however, and Rhien calls for backup while rushing up to engage. The illithids act first, suggesting to Rhien telepathically that he harm his friends. Again the monk shrugs off the mental assault, illuminating their hideous faces with his torch as he slays one with a powerful kick.

Now able to see, Kyree targets another, slaying it with three arrows. The last two join their fellows when the rest of the party descends upon them in a fury, greatly angered by the mind flayers’ presumption. After looting a few gems, the group kicks the corpses a few times and storms off down the path on which it was earlier traveling.

By the time four more hours have passed the party has calmed down somewhat, and begins to whisper quietly among itself about the best place to camp. Another hour and a half takes the group to the fork of which the deva earlier spoke, and the party chooses to retreat slightly into the other tunnel so as to move off the main trail.

Just before Kai is about to invoke her mansion, the party is interrupted by the simultaneous detonations of numerous fell magics. Three overlapping green grids of energy—Quid recognizes them as castings of “Order’s Wrath”—daze and injure those in the group prone to chaos. Three cloying clouds of inky darkness—Trella knows these as manifestations of “Unholy Blight”—injure and sicken all. Finally, two fireballs—familiar to everyone—scorch exposed flesh. Once they pass, Earl and Spot are quite dead, and the rest of the party is sorely injured. Kai and Kyree, dazed by the affront to their free spirits, are unable for the moment to take action, as the hated sound of infernal speech makes its way to the ears of the group.

To be continued…

 

[htetickrt]

Infernal Raiders​

Trella stares at the dead body of the unicorn, Earl. “You know,” she growls, “the Underdark is really starting to cheese me off.” Then she notes her burned and torn flesh. “Anyone going to bring the healing?”

Rhien activates his gloves and lets potent curative magic wash over the crew. Smiling despite the situation, the monk moves off into the darkness as all wounds heal, searching out evil with his artificial torch.

“Much better,” Trella comments, before conjuring a hemispherical wall of stone to minimize the area from which the party could be attacked.

A cruel laugh arises from the darkness then, followed closely by the detonation of another pair of fireballs within the stone structure. Expecting this, the party quickly dives to the ground to put out any incipient blazes, minimizing the damage of the blasts.

Kai rolls to her feet with a snarl, magically quickening her motions before launching a storm of acid at a point some thirty feet past the speck of light that signifies Rhien’s position. The unmistakable hiss of acid on flesh brings a fierce grin to her lips, though it does little to sate her rising bloodlust.

Khail advances to the fore, taking a position in the center of the stone arch. The paladin enacts a magic circle against evil, and gestures for Kyree to join him. The elf approaches, but is soon doubled over with the rest of the party, pummeled by waves of law and evil that send Kai to the ground with massive internal bleeding.

Quid, barely conscious and fighting back intense nausea with every breath, silently curses as the potent word she was to speak dies on her lips. Instead, knowing that it would not take much to end her business career at this point, the Waukeenar invokes both her boots and her most potent healing magic, returning the group to the status it enjoyed only moments before. Under her prayer, wounds mend and sickness flees, leaving the band once again ready to do battle with what most of them have come to know as utter evil.

Rhien grimaces at the injuries to his friends and advances further. Another thirty feet brings him into visual range of the baatezu, and he calls back his findings to the party.

Trella screeches, “Get off this plane!” and drops a storm of ice upon their location. Hailstones the size of a child’s head smash into tough infernal skin, and the grunts of the hamatula as they are hit are music to the druid’s ears.

Unseen by most of the party, the two cornugons raise arms and fly at Rhien in an ordered charge. The monk is surprised as the two horned devils fly to the edge of his light, lashing out once each with their brutal spiked chains. Rhien suffers two powerful blows that leave great gaping wounds across his torso, and the monk reels backward, stunned into insensibility. The two baatezu leaders smile cruelly and prepare to feast upon man-flesh.

Kai grimaces as her untrained ears hear only an indeterminate scuffle, and she acts with the alacrity born of familiar desperation. Chanted words and a light touch grant Kyree the ability to see into the darkness, and suddenly the cornugons are revealed to him, along with an insensate Rhien. A storm of arrows accompanies Kai’s own of caustic acid, and both cornugon and hamatula are made to suffer.

Khail notes Rhien’s struggle as well, and deals with it in his more direct fashion. A charge closes the distance to a cornugon in seconds, and his holy blade cleaves through evil flesh with aplomb. “Back to Baator with you, foul thing!” the paladin cries.

The baatezu roars his displeasure, and turns to regard a new, more lively foe. “You will regret that, mortal,” he snarls in perfect common.

“I regret nothing!” Khail exclaims in response.

The six hamatula relocate, some to provide support for their leaders, while others assault those within the stone wall. The latter group fares poorly. Mr. Flopsy reacts instantly to the new presence and rakes the first to appear, sending its essence spiraling back to its home plane. The remaining three join it upon Quid’s utterance of a single holy word.

Unfortunately, Mr. Flopsy does not share Quid’s moral strictures, and finds himself both blinded and deafened, much to his vocal displeasure. Trella groans. “Great, now he’ll be inconsolable.” As if to illustrate, the dire bear roars and slams his paws into the stone wall.

Quid apologizes. “Sorry, but would you rather we still had the baatezu around?”

“I’d rather they were all a pulpy mess.”

“I’ll take us over there shortly, okay?”

“Then I’m happy.”

Khail, on the other hand, is not, as he is battered with a pair of spiked chains until the paladin is bleeding heavily and stunned into inaction. Kai, guessing what the thumping sounds off in the darkness are, enhances her own vision. Thus aided, she and Kyree are able to eliminate the last two hamatula with missiles both magical and mundane.

That leaves the two cornugon, and Quid transports herself and Trella over to them with a word. Once there, the druid smashes her staff into a baatezu’s scaly chest, while Quid unsuccessfully attempts to banish it back to Baator. Gulping audibly after her failure, the Waukeenar backs off a step and lays hands upon Rhien, healing his wounds and restoring his senses.

The monk immediately goes on the offensive, stepping in front of Quid to engage the uninjured baatezu. His first strike is designed not to injure, but to paralyze, and is dead-on. The cornugon starts in surprise before losing the ability to move, and resorts to making his displeasure known telepathically.

<You have only earned yourself an eternity of torture, mortal.>

Rhien ignores him and lands a pair of solid kicks.

The paralyzed cornugon turns his telepathic attention to his comrade. <Attack the bald one.>

The monk nimbly dances out of the way of the second’s spiked chain. <He is too fast.>

<Achsre will hear about your failure.>

The second snarls. <Both our failures, it would seem. These are more resilient than we were led to believe. Perhaps Razorus was not solely at fault.>

Kai cannot hear the exchange, but in the presence of her hated enemy her anger mounts nonetheless. The sorceress fires two greenish rays of light at the cornugons, but neither has the desired effect. Kai’s hands clench into fists reflexively, and the sorceress flirts with the idea of charging and attempting to rip them apart with her bare hands.

Kyree is oblivious to this, concentrating only on planting his arrows in the locations in which they can do the most good. Unfortunately, only one makes its way through the cornugon’s layers of hide and magic to hit home, a rare occurrence which has a deleterious effect on the archer’s morale.

Khail snaps out of his daze then and returns to the fray, ignoring the blood falling liberally from his still-bleeding wounds. The paladin’s holy blade cleaves infernal flesh once, and again, nearly splitting the baatezu in twain. Trella, guessing that the cornugon can’t take much more abuse, alters her form into that of a dire bear, manifests her staff, and winds up for a single blow. With the aid of her enhanced strength the blow connects, and indeed proves sufficient to send the infernal creature to the earth.

Quid advances on the last foe, palm extended to deliver fell magic. Again the cornugon’s nature denies her action, and it is not harmed by her spell. Frustrated, the priest rebukes the baatezu, attempting to cause it pain with a stern admonishment, cast in terms of her beliefs. At last she succeeds, and, though the paralyzed cornugon does not move in response, minor wounds open up across its form.

The priest has little time to savor her small victory, however, as Rhien leaps upon the devil in a blur of fist and foot. Without its preternatural dexterity, the baatezu cannot escape the monk’s assault, and blow after blow rips into its infernal flesh. Nearly every strike lands where it was intended, and by the time Rhien returns to his ready position, the cornugon is a mess of torn flesh and broken bones, barely alive.

Unable to act, the baatezu’s life ends as ten magic missiles blast it into oblivion. Quid’s touch ends Khail’s continued bleeding, and the battle is over.

Afterward, within the safety of Kai’s opulent lodgings, Quid queries the sorceress about the group’s greater-than-normal rage at the presence of the baatezu.

Kai’s hands again close into fists, an apparently automatic response to their mention. Her nails dig into her palms as she whispers, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Quid presses on, heedlessly. “It has to do with that pit fiend you mentioned to Morn, right?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Kai snarls, and slams the door of her bedroom behind her. Trella storms past the priest to enter her own room, glaring at Quid as she passes.

Quid turns to Rhien, confused. “I don’t get it. It’s not like everyone we’ve met so far hasn’t wanted to see us dead.”

Rhien’s voice is gentle, but tinged with sorrow and buried anger. “Have you ever been hunted, Quid? For no other reason than the pleasure of the hunter?”

Quid blanches. “No, of course not.”

The monk’s voice catches. “It draws away one’s humanity.” Then he too takes his leave to meditate in the corner, leaving Quid alone with her thoughts.

***********

Time has a way of—if not healing all wounds—dampening ardor, and by the next evening passion has been replaced by the tense wariness that characterizes all successful travel through the Underdark. Despite an even greater degree of alertness, however, the only beings encountered during the previous day were a group of kobolds who ran screaming in fear from Khail after he manifested his holy blade. This uninterrupted travel carried the party to the edge of the lake, and there they halted, to prepare for what lies there, and beyond.

 

[hobz]

where's the foreshadowing?

probably i'm just dense, but where's the foreshadowing and hints of the future you promised?

 

[mrs htetickrt]

It's this part (and it's so bad--oh, it's so very very not at all good):

The second snarls. <Both our failures, it would seem. These are more resilient than we were led to believe. Perhaps Razorus was not solely at fault.>

Apparently this seemingly random encounter was nonrandom in the extreme. And problems that we thought we had put to bed are actually sitting up with a flashlight under the sheets, humming a sinister tune. Quid doesn't know about it yet because nobody wanted to talk about it. But is has to do with the reason why the rest of the party is batty when it comes to baatezu.

Quid presses on, heedlessly. “It has to do with that pit fiend you mentioned to Morn, right?”

It's a bad thing when all the primary formative events of your life have been negative ones. It's another level of badness entirely when the ultimate cause was a single unexpectedly successful casting of Tasha's Hideous Uncontrollable Laughter. Poor PCs. Poor, poor PCs. RBDM!

mrs htetickrt
(aka kai)

 

[htetickrt]

Rhien’s Vow​

“A little to the left,” Kai instructs the unseen servant hovering over her back. “Yes, there. Now push. Ahhh.”

Trella smirks. “Enjoying yourself, Kai?”

Kai’s smile is broad and genuine. “Immensely, now that we’re no longer walking.”

“What’s wrong with walking? Apart from its taking place here, of course.”

“Trella, if we were meant to walk for miles, there wouldn’t be wagons.”

The druid rolls her eyes and sends her dire bear to fetch Kyree from a bedroom. “And don’t use your mouth this time.”

Kyree’s “Eep!” is audible from the dining area, and he arrives in all haste.

Sensing a team meeting approaching, Quid flops onto an overstuffed pillow and orders up a hot chocolate. “So, what’s the plan? Do we get ferried? Fly? Befriend everyone? Risk a teleport? How are we on communication ability? Can anyone speak to giants?”

Rhien, looking frustrated and perhaps even a bit angry, snaps back, “As I said, teleportation is very risky. I wouldn’t advise it.”

Trella holds up her hands. “Hey, no need to get snippy. None of us like being here.” Despite her calming words, the stress begins to get to her as well, and she grows a bit manic. “Hey, how’s this: We levitate inside an obscuring mist over the water or something equally clever, though I suspect we're going to have to trash the kraken. I could also summon water elementals to aid us should the kraken become a pain. Oh, and I want those kuo-toa to worship me when we're through with 'em. And I’m anxious to slay a shadow dragon, too. And I think I need a nap.”

Khail chuckles. “We noticed that.” While everyone stares at him, Rhien retreats to a corner of the large dining room and kneels, staring at his hands in a mixture of disgust and despair. He remains that way, features frozen into a rictus of shame, until Kai goes over wearily to check on him.

“Are you okay?” the beautiful sorceress inquires, a little more harshly than she had intended, perhaps due to the recent battle.

Rhien whispers in response, “I can’t…do this. Not anymore.”

Seeing her friend in pain, Kai drops to one knee, concern showing in the furrow of her brow. “Do what, Rhien?” she asks gently.

The monk does not answer directly, instead asking a question of his own. “Did you…see me? During the battle’s end?”

Kai nods. “You did well. What of it?”

Rhien cringes, backing away from her words. “I was little more than a caged beast, lashing out in anger at my captives. That is not ‘well.’”

“They were purest evil, Rhien. Surely you of all people know this.” Pushing the reticent monk a bit, she adds, “Isn’t that why you made your choice?”

Kai expects to have touched a nerve, but Rhien does not react as such. Instead he shakes his head negatively and replies, “I chose what I did so that I might play a more direct role in aiding others, putting an end to the source of the suffering instead of ‘merely’ ameliorating instances of it.” The stress on the word ‘merely’ is unmistakable, and distinctly self-mocking. “Though I continue to believe this is worthwhile, my motivation for doing so was unworthy. Rage, not compassion drove me to my martial devotion, just as rage drove my actions in the battle. I was not thinking of aiding others as I rained blow after blow upon my helpless foe. I was not thinking of anything, in fact, allowing my hatred of their kind to power my assault.”

Kai interjects, “I think you are being too hard on yourself, Rhien.”

Rhien does not let her continue, snapping, “Am I?” Quickly recovering, his frown deepens. “I’m sorry. It’s just…look at me, Kai. Look at what I am wielding, what I’m clad in. I save gold plundered from the bodies of the dead to outfit myself with the most potent items I can buy. I justified this as necessary to accomplish my goals. But in doing so, I believe I’ve lost myself.”

The monk pauses for a while, collecting his thoughts. Other party members, already trying surreptitiously to listen, give up their stealth and come closer. Rhien’s forces a half-smile, and he says gently, “I do not judge others who act the way I have, as long as they do so with good intent. But I can no longer follow that path myself.”

Slowly, methodically, Rhien strips off every item of value on his person, leaving him clad only in his simple robes and sandals. “These I give to you, to all of you, for use in your—our—continued struggles. I will place no claim upon future goods as well, though I ask that my share of all that you find no use for be distributed to the nearest house of Ilmater or, failing that, the nearest bastion of good. I will take care of this if I am still able.”

Rising to his feet, Rhien moves swiftly to the door of the mansion. When Kai moves to stop him, he lays a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Please Kai, I must leave for now. Your conjured dwelling is beautiful, but its opulence contrasts poorly with my recent thoughts. I need to be alone.”

“It is dangerous outside.”

Rhien nods. “I will place my trust in Ilmater; I can do no more.”

Quid goggles at him, then at the pile of his possessions, then at the monk again. After a moment she puts her head down and mutters something about altruism and economic theory.

Before Rhien leaves, Trella catches his arm and says, "Stay frosty. Don't do something stupid like getting yourself killed." With a knowing wink she adds, "Resurrections are expensive." She tries to sound warm and understanding and lets him go. Rhien gives her a half-smile, but puts up his hand before Kai can add her own words. “Please,” he says, simply, and steps outside into the darkness. He does not return that night.

Kyree sidles over to the portal out and tries to listen for approaching enemies. Kai coughs, and gently points out that no outside conditions can penetrate into the mansion. The archer looks sheepish and goes to stare lustfully at Rhien’s old belt of strength.

Quid, unable to understand Rhien’s motives, has already put the monk out of her mind. Employing a little-used skill, the Waukeenar has fashioned miniatures of the party, the giants, the kraken, and several kuo-toa out of clay, and arrayed them atop a table big enough to serve twelve. Equal parts amused and attempting not to think about the monk outside, the rest of the party gathers around to join in the planning. Trella requests a case of ‘Dew;’ an unseen servant provides it.

Kai offers, “I think we should try talking to the giants and seeing if they can’t ferry us across the lake safely. Otherwise, flying seems our best option.”

Quid’s face falls. “Don’t you want to use my miniatures?”

“To pantomime talking?”

“No, to plan out what happens if we anger them somehow and they attack us. And then the kraken joins in. And the kuo-toa.”

Trella interjects, “They’ll be too busy worshipping me.”

“Ah.” Khail taps his cheek thoughtfully.

“Ah what?” Quid queries.

Khail is nonplussed. “I don’t honestly know. It just seemed the thing to say.”

Kyree asks the unspoken question softly, “Do you think Rhien will be okay?”

Quid, realizing that no planning is going to get done now, huffs and puts her miniatures into the bag of holding for later use.

Kai barely notes the action, her face tight with worry. “I don’t know. If the night is anything like the day was, he should be fine. Even wearing nothing.”

Kyree toys with the fletching on an arrow he has pulled from a quiver. “What if it is like yesterday instead? We could help him. Quietly. I only need a few hours of rest, and I doubt he could see me if I didn’t want him to.”

Khail replies sternly, “No.”

“But—”

“No. We will not search for Rhien. It was his choice to leave, and we must respect that. Otherwise we dishonor both him and his beliefs.”

Kai grows agitated. “You picked an odd time to start having opinions, Khail.”

“Rhien has entrusted himself to Ilmater. If he is judged worthy, he will be fine.”

“Judged?” Kai snarls, rising to her feet. “What right has anyone to judge us? Perhaps you forgot what happened on our return to Toril, but I did not.”

Khail shrugs, extending his arms, palms upward. “We are but flawed vessels. We must have faith.”

“Zealot,” Kai spits, and makes for her bedroom, robes swirling around her as she turns.

Trella lays a hand on Khail’s forearm as the paladin starts a response. “Let it go.”

“Perhaps that would be wise.”

“I’m all about wisdom. And cheese fries.”

Quid gapes incredulously. “You’re all completely unbalanced, aren’t you?”

Kyree answers, “Perhaps, but I can spot like nobody’s business.”

Quid, having started to stand, collapses back into her chair in defeat. “This’ll be my doom as well, won’t it? Half-crazy and not for profit. Waukeen save me.”

Trella grins ferally. “There are worse things.”

******************

“Moment of truth. Are you ready?” Trella attempts to sounds comforting.

“As I’ll ever be. It’s not like we haven’t seen death before.” Kai tries to sound like she means it, but fails despite her natural persuasiveness.

“Yeah, but with Eduardo, it was fun.”

Kyree chuckles at the druid’s joke. “I really hated him.” The ranger looks at his fellows. “Okay, I’m going,” he says, and steps through.

It doesn’t take his sharp eyes to pinpoint the location of the human kneeling a half-dozen feet from the former mansion’s entrance, particularly when said human is surrounded by a nimbus of golden light out to a five-foot radius. Hearing Khail step through the portal, the monk inquires pleasantly, “Sleep well?”

Kai goggles, having temporarily lost the power of speech. The monk smiles beatifically. “I am sorry; I’m sure you have questions. Much of what I experienced must remain between Ilmater and myself, but, simply put, I have made many vows this night, and Ilmater has accepted them. While some are personal, others directly affect you and my role in this party. As friends, you deserve to have a full accounting of this, and, after I provide it, I will understand if you no longer desire my company on your travels.”

Quid rolls her eyes. “This group just gets weirder and weirder.” She is shushed by Trella.

Rhien continues, “This night I made three vows to Ilmater, which shall not be broken for any reason. The first is a vow of poverty. I may not possess any material items of value, beyond what I am wearing now.” Quid gasps and nearly faints; Khail steadies her.

Rhien’s smile broadens. “Again I am sorry; I should have realized how you would take that, Quid.” The priestess croaks, “Go on. This can’t get any worse.”

“That depends on your point of view, I would imagine. The second and third vows are of non-violence and peace. These are strict, and imply that I may not harm, either deliberately or due to my own carelessness, another living being in any permanent fashion. Further, while I may still disable those seeking to do harm, I cannot permit you to dispatch entities whose aggression I have for the time being quelled. Should you try, I must attempt to stop you and, whether or not I succeed at this attempt, I must take my leave of you. Finally, in the special case of humanoids, I must ask that you not assault the helpless even if I had no part in making them so, at least in my presence. I would appreciate your taking a vow not to do so while away from me as well, but I cannot force this on you.”

Quid briefly turns her blue eyes heavenward and says quietly to Waukeen, “Uptight gods with their silly vows and strictures. How can they enjoy life if they are always imposing all of these tiresome rules?”

Thus steadied, she is able to reply to Rhien, "Very well. I suppose I personally am more or less against the unnecessary taking of life as well. Inefficient if you ask me. Violent deprivation of property rights as well as productive capacity. They could be better used by being engaged in valuable economic activity. And I suppose it is the decent thing to do."

"Except for plants that is," a strange look appears on Quid's face as she fingers her machete, "yup, violent plants need to all die."

Quid blinks for a second. "But yeah, otherwise, I'm fine with taking the vow if it will make you happy."

Rhien indeed does look happy, and administers the vow to Quid.

To Kyree, the vows taken seem almost like a betrayal. “I am sorry,” he nearly whispers, “but given my current understanding of the constraints Rhien's vow would impose upon us, I feel that accepting Rhien's offer to leave is the better of two very bad alternatives.” The ranger’s eyes do not meet the monk’s, and his use of the third person is not lost on the assembled.

Kai frowns. “Rhien, would you agree not to attack certain enemies? If you could stand by and not incapacitate any of them, understanding that we do intend to kill baatezu if we encounter them, or especially drow on this quest, then all the rest of us would need to do is to avoid rendering any of them helpless ourselves, right?”

Kyree interrupts: “Which means no using any spells or magical effects that would or even could stun, daze, or incapacitate them, and maybe even those that would just blind them, no using spells like ‘Web,’ no using tanglefoot bags, and so on. I'm not willing to accept such a severe constraint on our tactical options.”

Trella regards Rhien with a "What the?" look as people explore the ramifications of his new vows. She manages only an, "Uh, good for, uh, you," when pressed for an opinion. In the meantime, she scratches Mr. Flopsy behind his right ear until his right leg starts kicking. For his part, the dire bear is remarkably calm in the monk’s presence.

Kai looks as if she is about to respond to Kyree, then shrugs and looks away.

Khail looks disapprovingly at the archer. “I must say, I am disappointed. We should be celebrating, for Rhien’s faith has been renewed!”

Kyree shoots back, “It’s a little more complicated than that, don’t you think?”

“Well, we’ll have to be careful with this zone of calm he seems to be projecting, as I don’t have the slightest urge to smite evil at the moment, which could be a problem given my vocation, but on the whole I’m just happy to see a friend display evidence of Ilmater’s grace.”

Rhien listens to the discussion impassively, offering a response only when there is a lull in the conversation. “Again, I am sorry that my vows bring some of you unhappiness. Please know that was never my intent. I have no objection, Kai, to my trying not to engage baatezu or drow directly. I had already intended to limit much of my response to foes to waylaying them so that you might be freer to act yourselves; I can simply choose not to paralyze or stun these enemies if you desire.

"Kyree, your worries are certainly valid; however, please remember that you are indeed free to use any of those tactics yourself, and that that aspect of the vow pertains only to humanoids. Further, I think you are reading too much into the word 'helpless.' I am referring to enemies who cannot help themselves, so that tying them up would be as easy as killing them. Many of the cases you offered do not fit this.

"Finally, I am permitted to offer humanoids a vow of their own in the event of capture. If they take a vow not to interfere with us and then break it, you are free to act as you will.

"Of course, if this or my offer not to attack certain foes does not sway you, I will leave. I would like to be a help, not a hindrance."

Quid walks up to Rhien and gently puts a hand on his shoulder. "While I think your ideas are silly, I for one still think the benefits of your contributions far outweigh any costs your eccentricities impose. I would happily have you by my side."

Rhien smiles. “Thank you, Quid.”

Kyree looks a bit uncomfortable before offering, "Well…why don't we try it for a while and see how it works out?"

Trella claps Kyree and Rhien on their shoulders in a show of team solidarity. "I agree. Rhien, are you game to try? I think Quid is right that your help to us invaluable, but I don't want any hard feelings if, uh, things don't work out. Does that make sense? I mean, if I'd come in here and announced that from this day forward I would only fight angry shambling mounds with bad flatulence I wouldn't hold any grudges if that didn't jibe with the party, and I know you won't either so let's move along and do what needs to be done."

Kai smiles, relieved to have her friend back. “I concur. Let’s put this behind us.”

Rhien nods. “Of course,” he says simply. The smile does not leave his face as he moves ahead of the group, keeping his zone of calm away from his companions.

The remaining mile and a half to the Lake of Shadows is uneventful, at least until Kyree discerns the sounds of laughter and growling, both deep and guttural, coming from directly above the group. Everyone is instantly on his or her guard, though this doesn’t make the rock that smashes against a wall three feet from Khail’s head any less surprising.

Rhien extends his nimbus of light and holds out his arms in a gesture of peace. Quid, figuring that giants be here, gifts herself with magic to understand their language. She is just in time to hear a voice rumble, “I missed on purpose. What are you doing here?”