Disclaimer: I don't think I really need one. Oh yes, I don't own the Realms. Mystra knows I wouldn't have let horrible things happen to them if I did.
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Ilsie Arniss tried her level best not to look bored as her current employer droned on about the importance of the errand she and the other members of the Company of the Green Falcon had been hired for. She heard the court wizard the first time, but he seemed to be under the impression that a bunch of "backcountry blunderers with steel" needed to be told the same thing three or four times.
"So," The court wizard concluded, "You all are to go and determine the cause of these unseasonable lightning storms and return so we can deal with it. You are not to try to take on what ever is causing the odd weather."
The immaculately dressed, grey haired wizard glared at each of the Green Falcons. Matay Oron looked back impassively in his steel chainmail. His squire, Izeil, fidgeted in his leather jerkin and fussed with his packs. Sira Lysep, the company's wizard, stood tall and aloof. Kammi, Sira's apprentice, shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and managed to refrain from flipping the pages of the spell book under her arm.
Ilsie sympathized with the two adolescents. She was thoroughly tired of hearing the same thing over and over. I wish Matay and Sira didn't insist on taking jobs from the nobility, she thought. It never seems to work out in our favor. The court wizard mentioned something about teleporting the company near the affected area. She nervously ran a hand through her black hair and shifted in her leather armor and homespun clothes. Her worn shoulder bag sat at her feet. Teleport spells made her nervous. They did not seem natural the way the fey and elven portals did. Ilsie stopped paying attention to the droning acanist.
Finally the court wizard said, "Pull yourselves together, now."
They all gathered their packs up, the squire and apprentice taking some of their minders' gear in addition to their own. Ilsie took up her stout staff and her single pack. The wizard started to wave his hands over them. She shut her eyes as the spell took hold and felt the world swirl away from her feet.
A disorienting moment later, the stone floor of the audience chamber became gritty and crunched underfoot. Ilsie opened her eyes up and looked around. Clearly it hasn't rained here in a while, she thought as she looked over the dry grass and brown leafed scrub brush. The Company of the Green Hawk stood near the top of a set of steep hills. A stiff hot wind blew over the company as they surveyed the rough hills. Strange, but the air seems... odd. Almost orange...
"What's that?" Kammi said in her soft high voice. Ilsie looked at the girl and then where she pointed. Over one of the nearby ridges, large clouds of grey billowed up and Ilsie felt a small quiver of dread start to coalesce in her middle.
"It's just a thunder cloud, Kammi," Sira said reassuringly. "Remember, Wizard Cutyr told us about unseasonable thunderstorms."
"He didn't say nothing about how gods damned hot it was," Matay grumbled, "Izeil, toss me a canteen, would ya?"
As the young man rummaged around for a canteen, Ilsie continued to watch the way the cloud moved. It seemed to move upward at an alarming rate. She sniffed at the air and found confirmation to her fears in its smoky scent. She asked, "Matay, Sira? How far from water did that arcanist say he was going to drop us?"
"About a half day's march downhill there's a rather large stream," Sira answered briskly, "Why?"
"We need to get moving towards that stream then," Ilsie told her, "And quickly. We might get lucky enough to reach it in time."
"No one's going anywhere until we figure out what's causing these storms," Matay said stubbornly. "What's the matter, little druid? Lost your nerve?"
Ilsie bit back the first retort that came to mind. Matay's been like this ever since he found out that my brothers both took up with holy orders, but that isn't important now. She pointed towards the swiftly moving thick dark grey clouds. "Those aren't rain clouds. We need to get out of here. Now. Before the wind changes."
As if to drive the point home, the wind shifted from at their backs to into the company's faces, bringing with it the choking smell of burning grass. Ilsie pulled a kerchief out of her shoulder bag and tied it over her face. The smoke blew in thicker, stinging the eyes and leaving the primal urge to flee in its wake.
We need to find shelter, Ilsie thought and looked around. Nothing but tinder dry grass and rough hilly terrain greeted her eyes. She looked into the smoke and realized it was coming closer and fast. The wind gusted hard enough to sway the druid no her feet. Again the instinct to flee hit her. No, we'll never make it to the stream in time and I don't have enough spells to protect us all. There must be something...
"We have to get to that stream!" Matay yelled. Ilsie could hear the incipient panic in his voice as the smoke blew over them again. The big fighter started running downhill. Sira took one look at the advancing smoke line and started after Matay, dragging Kammi along behind her.
"No! You won't make it!" Ilsie shouted at their backs. She looked at Izeil.
He looked back at her with wide terrified eyes and asked shakily, "What do we do, Miss Arniss?"
Ilsie reviewed the spells she had ready. A few for creating water, one to avoid heatstroke, one to provide a cooling breeze and a few curative spells. Nothing powerful enough to extinguish a large swath of flames. What else? I've got a blanket, some food, a tinderbox, my waterskin...
An idea struck her. There's a good deal of risk to be sure, but the fire can't burn something that's already been burned to the ground. "Izeil," She ordered the frightened squire, "Get something over your mouth and nose and follow me."
Ilsie walked a little ways along the ridgeline. She chose a direction that would not intersect with the paths her companions took and started to strike at her tinderbox. Izeil, his face half covered by a handkerchief, looked at her with a distinct look of incipient panic. "I'm making a fire break, young man. Pull out your blanket and get ready to smother it when I tell you," She told him in a firm voice.
She kept striking sparks off her flint and steel until she had a small blaze of her own burning downhill, driven by the hot wind. Ilsie looked back at Izeil. The squire stood with his blanket ready to smother the flames at a moments notice. She looked beyond the young man into the smoke. In the short time it had taken Ilsie to get a small section of grass alight with flame, the smoke had thickened considerably and it was much harder to see any distance.
Her eyes started to water and she checked on her smaller fire's progress. The wind had driven its embers forward and now a sizable blaze worked its way downhill in front of Ilsie and Izeil. When a decent area had been burned in front of them, Ilsie dragged Izeil into the still warm blackened grass as close as she dared to her own fire. It merrily burned its way ahead of the main wildfire.
She looked over her shoulder and could see the flames start to lick over the ridgeline. Again the primal urge to run shot through her, countered by the errant thought, It's beautiful. I wonder if any of these plants will have their seed pods burst to find fertile soil waiting for them... She shook herself out of her reverie. Survive now, watch the plants grow back later.
By now a sizable area of grass lay blackened in front of Ilsie and Izeil. Ilsie checked how far they were from all the unburned grass and hoped it would be enough space. She choked out the spell against heatstroke over herself. I need to be able to function to get those other spells off, she reasoned. She took out her own blanket, took Izeil's out of his hands and layered the two. "Get down," Ilsie told him in a firm voice. He obediently made himself into a little ball on the ground. Ilsie got down next to him and covered her and him with the two blankets. Then she waited.
The crackling sound of the fire and the roar of the wind came nearer. Huddled under the blankets with Izeil trembling beside her, Ilsie cast one of her water creation spells right over their blankets. The cloth immediately soaked through and the water began to slowly steam off them. Then the blaze caught up to them.
It felt claustrophobic under the blankets and Ilsie's breath came in short gasps. It became hot and then sweltering. She prayed that the wet blankets would keep Izeil and her from becoming overheated and began to cast her gust of wind spell. A stiff cool breeze blew over them. The chill cut through the sodden blankets and Ilsie shivered with the combined cold and fear. The spell gave out, to be replaced by the hot gale that continued to push the fire ever forward.
Finally, the crackling roar of the wildfire seemed to be moving away downslope. Ilsie peeked out from under the drying sooty blankets and saw nothing but grey orange smoke and blackened grass all around them. Next to her, Izeil looked up with a face streaked grey with soot and ashes from their impromptu firebreak. We're alive, she thought and coughed on the smoke laden air.
Blackened grass stretched out in every direction and Ilsie could see the smoke from the wildfire burning away from her and Izeil. He looked at her with a dirty, too pale face and asked, "What happened to Matay, Sira and Kammi?"
Ilsie stowed the irritated retort that immediately came to mind and instead said softly, "We should look for them."
Izeil nodded and started looking around and calling for the rest of the Green Falcons. Ilsie made sure to keep the squire in sight as she looked for any sign of the others. Something glimmered in the charred grass and Ilsie made her way towards it. She stopped as she began to recognize the shape of the metallic glints and had to take a few deep breaths. The smell of burned meat greeted her nose and it took a good deal of effort not to vomit. I hope he fell and broke his neck, Ilsie thought as she turned green. Better that then burning alive. Damn, I need to make sure it's him and not some poor hermit…
The druid walked closer to the charred body and decided that the chainmail had to mean that the body was Matay's. We'll have to bury him here, unless Izeil knows if he wanted to be brought back in case something happened.
"Ilsie!" the squire's shout carried down the hillside and interrupted Ilsie's thoughts. "I found Sira and Kammi!"
She jogged towards the squire's voice and found the apprentice and the squire crouched around Sira under a set of boulders. "Please, Miss Ilsie, save her!" Kammi sobbed. Izeil looked up at her nervously, his face ashen. The druid could see why. Sira's arms and hands were badly burned, the skin blackened and flaking off. The mage was unconscious and shivering.
"I think I can keep her alive," Ilsie assessed the damage, I worry about the burns to her hands though… "Izeil, see if you can find a dry blanket and wrap Sira in it. What happened to you two?"
"W-we were running and Mistress Sira realized that we couldn't out run the fire," Kammi shook like a leaf in the wind, as the squire fished a dry blanket out of the apprentice's pack and wrapped the mage in it. "We saw the rocks and she pulled me towards them. She… she cast a protection spell on me and we hid among them but there was all that smoke and embers…"
Ilsie tuned Kammi's panicked babble out as she began the cast the one spell of healing she had prepared, taking care to concentrate on the mage's hands. Sira's gone into shock, Ilsie realized after she finished the spell. Nothing to do but keep her warm and hope shock doesn't kill her until I can renew my spells again.
While Kammi continued to stutter about what happened over and over again, Ilsie laid out hers and Izeil's blankets out to dry. The squire asked quietly, "Did you find out what happened to Sir Matay?"
"He's dead," Ilsie told him quietly. "I'm sorry."
Izeil looked like he wanted to lie down and sleep. An excellent idea if I ever heard one, Ilsie thought, feeling the wake of exhaustion left by her fear. "How about you keep Kammi company for a bit and keep an eye on Sira's breathing?" she asked gently. "I'll set up a camp for today."
He nodded and settled himself down to sit. In an effort to keep their minds occupied with something other than the mess the day had become, Ilsie asked, "Do either of you know where the nearest town is?"
Kammi finally wound down from her sobbing. "I think the nearest town is Nithorg." She said shakily. "The Blue Pony there's run by Sargai and Miralyn."
"You're from around here, aren't you?" Ilsie asked conversationally as she rummaged around for a small brazier in Sira's bags. Somewhere around here I'll find some brush burned to charcoal.
"I was so honored to be called before Master Roto Cutyr…" Kammi trailed off and looked worriedly at Sira. Ilsie glanced at the mage and saw that the scorched woman's breathing remained an even and slow tempo of sleep.
"I need to find a bit of firewood," Ilsie got up and dusted ashes off her knees. "I'll be back in a little while."
"Miss Ilsie?" Izeil asked tiredly, "We're not going on with that assignment, are we?"
"No," she answered, "I'm going to send a message back as soon as I get the opportunity to do so. And bury Matay. They can hire someone else for this job." She snorted, "Besides, this sort of thing happens sometimes. You can't send us small creatures against nature."
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Author's note: This little vignette is based pretty solidly on an actual event, all the way down to who survived and how. And before anyone asks, this is only the second scariest fire scenario I've heard of.