"It's been an age since I've come this far into the swamp, Marcus. There are some twists and turns before we get to the ruins. There's probably more than lizardlings ahead. So… uh… lead on, I guess." Bevil said, as the two friends finally reached the part of the Mere that held the ruins they were looking for.
"You're not wrong there, Bevil, I can't remember the last time I was out this far either. We better be careful. The Mere is bad enough during daytime but at night it can get a lot worse." Marcus replied, as they made their way carefully along the barely visible trail, keeping an eye out for lizard folk, swamp beetles and other such natural hazards.
It wasn't long before the two friends had to cross blades with a nest of swamp beetles. Swamp beetles were much larger, better armoured and more dangerous cousins to the common garden beetle; they were also incredibly territorial and would attack anything that came within their territory. Marcus and Bevil had no choice but to fight them off. It was more of an exercise in pest control than a real fight; however, the two friends still had to be careful as their blades flashed in the moonlight, for the swamp beetles' bite is venomous albeit not fatal to humans.
As the two friends walked on, their skirmish with the beetles well behind them, Bevil began to talk in a hushed voice. "This is a bit too much for me, Marcus. Amie's dead, the village is in flames, and now here we are in the swamp, looking for ruins." Bevil paused, but when he spoke again he sounded a bit embarrassed. "I always wanted to be one of those adventurers like Bruenor Battlehammer or Lord Nasher, back when he had adventures. With everything that's happened tonight though, I think my place is here in West Harbour. Adventuring is all fine and glorious, but someone still needs to remain home and care for the families." He looked at his friend. "We've trained in the militia together. Have you ever thought of leaving here, becoming an adventurer?"
"I haven't given it much thought to tell the truth Bevil, not seriously, at least." Marcus replied.
"You… haven't?" Bevil said, shaking his head. "I guess I still have a lot to learn about you. Our village has always seemed a bit too... well... small for you." Bevil looked around, a little nervous. "I wish Amie were here with us."
Marcus placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, trying to reassure Bevil and himself. "I miss her to you know but she is here, Bevil. In our hearts and minds. As long as we remember her, Amie will always be with us."
Bevil smiled. "Thanks Marcus. I needed that."
"That's what friends are for, Bevil." Marcus said gently, then grinned and a playful tone crept back to his voice. "Hey, just how good are you with that sword, anyway?"
"I'm one of the best of the new militiamen. Some say almost as good as you, really. Maybe this mission will settle which one of us is better, eh?" Bevil replied with a smirk.
Marcus laughed. "As long as we both get back in one piece, I don't really care that much. Looks like the ruins are just ahead… and so is our first lizard folk patrol." He pointed ahead of them and in the gloom they could see the ruins and about a half dozen or so lizard folk.
Marcus hadn't encountered lizard folk in many years, not since his teens in fact and as their name suggested they were just lizards that stood up right on their hind legs. The ones that he and Bevil could see were of average height, standing between five to eight feet tall. Marcus remembered Daeghun telling him that they were tribal by nature and primitive compared to the other races such humans, elves and dwarfs and that the lizard folk settled and made their homes in swamps like the Mere of Dead Men, sometimes infringing on the farms around West Harbour, as these environments were about the only places where the more powerful races did not generally settle. The information wasn't of much practical use apart from the fact it reminded the harbourman to be wary when facing them.
"Marcus... There certainly are an awful lot of them. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea." Bevil said trying to cover how scared he was.
"Good idea or not, what we came for is in those ruins and I for one am not going back to Daeghun empty handed." Marcus told his friend. "I have an idea, it's worth a try at least." He said turning to Bevil. "Just follow my lead and do what I say. Lizard folk are tribal; they generally follow the strongest of their clan and any dissent with that leader can be seen as a weakness, in other words Bevil keep your mouth shut for both our sakes otherwise we'll have all the combat practice we can handle."
Bevil stiffened slightly as he wasn't sure how to take his old friend talking to him the way he just had. Marcus was usually pretty easy going but now he was so serious it was frightening. Still if it meant they got through this in one piece then it was something that Bevil could put up with. "Alright, Marcus but let's not be too long."
It didn't take long before the lizards noticed the two friends approaching who had their weapons sheathed. The lizard that seemed to be in charge of the patrol came towards the two humans. "Warm bloods here? What do you want warm bloods?" he hissed.
"Many years ago one of my tribe hid an artefact in these ruins, we've been sent to recover it." Marcus replied.
"And how are you to do that warm blood?" the lizard sergeant asked as he hefted his greatsword. "By killing us all?"
"If need be." Marcus said easily. "But it needn't come to that. I know where the artefact is hidden, it would be easy for me to recover it, you could escort me and I'll leave my companion here until I return."
The look Bevil gave his friend said what he thought of that idea.
Before the lizard folk warrior could reply there came hissing and snarling from behind the two harbourmen, as they both turned they saw another group of lizard folk charging to attack.
"They set us up!" Bevil cried alarmed as he drew his sword.
"No they didn't, Bevil, that's another clan of lizard folk, their colouring is different." Marcus replied drawing his own sword, in the gloom of the swamp the difference in colouring was about the only thing that he could make out.
Before the two friends really knew what was happening they were engaged in a brief but vicious battle against the intruding lizards alongside the patrol they been talking too. When it was all over Marcus, Bevil and four of the lizard folk patrol were left standing.
"That was too close." Marcus said with a sigh.
"Agreed warm blood, if you had not been here..." the lizard sergeant said. "Come with us both, warm bloods and we'll retrieve your artefact."
The duo's progress through this part of the Mere of Dead Men hadn't gone unnoticed. They had been followed, although neither Marcus nor Bevil had been aware of it. A female wood elf named Elanee had been following them. Why and for what reason, those were hers to know…
She studied the entrance for a time after the two friends had disappeared from view along with the four surviving lizard folk. She then turned and left as mysteriously as she'd arrived, without leaving a trace.
"Oh great spirits of the Stone Tomb... please hear our plea! The other lizardling tribes take our territory, they wage war... And before we fight them for our ancestral hatching grounds, we ask for your blessings!" The lizard folk Sharman spoke with reverence.
Oh wonderful, a lizard ceremony right where I need to go. Marcus thought sourly. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. At least he wasn't alone the lizard folk sergeant was stood by his side.
"A warm blood... here!? Your very presence offends the stone god!" the Shaman cried on seeing Marcus.
"Forgive us great Sharman, but this warm blood helped defend the stone tomb against another clan." The sergeant said his head bowed.
"And this gives him the right to intrude on our lands... and disturb our most holy of rituals?!" the Sharman asked angrily.
Let's hope to Torm I can talk my out of this. Marcus thought. "Of course it doesn't great Sharman, but when this land was once ours, my tribe left something here." he explained his head bowed slightly. "I've been sent to recover it as it is needed to save my tribe... something you should be able to understand."
"So, what do you propose then, warm blood?" the Shaman asked unconvinced.
Marcus looked the lizard in the eyes "Allow me save my tribe, and perhaps one day we can return such a favour."
"A favour for a favour, eh? We may have need of you..." the Shaman said considering Marcus' words. "We will let you do this thing... do what you have come here to do. We will leave the warm bloods in peace, my followers." The Shaman said as he led the lizard folk out of the chamber.
Bevil looked relieved to see the lizards go. "I didn't think that was going to work Marcus." He said.
"I didn't think it was going to work either to tell the truth." Marcus said as he closed the lid of the chest that had held the shard with a thunk, then stood and faced Bevil, wordlessly holding out his upturned palm.
"We were risking life and limb for that?" Bevil asked, exasperated, when he saw what his friend was holding. A shard of something metallic, about as long as his hand, sparkling with a silvery sheen in the near-darkness of the ruined chamber. "None of this makes any sense. Daeghun can do his own blasted quests from now on. When you're done searching around, let's get out of here."
"Doesn't look like much, does it?" Marcus said, looking down at the shard in his hand. "Just a hunk of silver." Then he looked up at Bevil, and his eyes suddenly widened. "But… there is something about this that I can't explain. There is something magical about it that I can feel."
Bevil looked surprised. "You can?" he asked. "How can that be?"
"A good question, Bevil, but one I don't have answer to and nor will Daeghun, I expect." Marcus said, shrugging and looking round the room one last time. "Come on, let's get back. We're done here."
"You have returned, and you have brought the shard." Daeghun said calmly, as Marcus and Bevil walked up to him.
"That's all you can say? I almost died out there." Bevil said, visibly upset.
"If I did not believe you could handle the task, I would have sent another." replied Daeghun, irritated.
"Yeah, well, you weren't out there in the swamp getting attacked by lizard folk." Bevil countered.
"No, I was here attending to the wounded, Bevil. Go find Merring and do the same." Daeghun said, dismissing Bevil. He then turned to his foster-son. "Now for the shard; let me see it."
"That wasn't the best way to have treated Bevil." Marcus said, a little annoyed as he showed the shard to Daeghun.
"Perhaps, but our talk is for our ears alone. Bevil has served his purpose, and does not need to be troubled any further." Daeghun explained. "He has his uses, but it is not wise to depend on someone of Starling blood for too long. Also, his complaining tires me and will not serve you where you are bound." he remarked, being his usual blunt self.
"So just what are those ruins in the swamp?" Marcus asked. He had some idea, but wanted confirmation. And just where am I going now?
"Many such ruins lie within the Mere and beneath it. They are of ancient Illefarn, an empire once forged from an alliance of dwarves and elves. All that remains are ruins, and little else, and their empire lives on only in history books and stories." Daeghun replied.
Marcus nodded. Tarmas and his books have been right. "So tell me about the shard, then." he said.
"That shard is one of a pair." Daeghun started. "Both were found after the battle that destroyed West Harbour years ago. My half-brother, Duncan, and I asked a mage in Neverwinter to examine the shards for enchantments, but he found nothing except a faint magical aura, a residue of the battle. And so I kept one shard, and the other I gave to Duncan. Not long after I returned to West Harbour I sealed it away in the ruins." Daegun sighed heavily. "I could not bring myself to cast it away. Yet at the same time, I did not wish to keep it close. You are too young to remember what occurred, I know, but the battle was a terrible one. And that shard, it reminds me too much of that night." He said pointing to the hunk of silver Marcus held.
"I have an uncle?" Marcus asked, truly surprised at this news.
"So to speak." Daeghun replied, slightly amused. "It would be more appropriate to say that I have a half-brother... Duncan, like Bevil, has many faults that would make it wise not to rely on him or call him kin." he warned.
"Just how long ago was this battle in West Harbour fought?" asked Marcus. It was never really talked about even if the Harvest Fair did happen to occur on the anniversary of the battle.
"You were little more than a baby at the time and it was a battle that did not concern West Harbour, but the village was caught up in it, like many such villages in the Mere of Dead Men." Daeghun explained. "We knew little about what had sparked the conflict. Demons were involved, led by a warlock of great power. We only knew him as the King of Shadows. The forces of Neverwinter attempted to drive the demons back. Many villagers fled, some taking the road, others wading into the swamp… anything to escape the battle. There was an explosion, pure and white, then nothing more." he said.
Marcus frowned. "Strange, as I feel magic from the shard, very strong magic." he said.
Daeghun arched an eyebrow. "That does seem strange indeed. Perhaps the attack has awakened it? If so, then perhaps a second look at these shards would yield different results. But such divinations would be beyond anyone here in West Harbour, including Tarmas." Daeghun looked at Marcus intently. "I need you to go to the city of Neverwinter. Find my half-brother Duncan, retrieve the second shard, and take it to a mage you both can trust. Duncan owns an inn in the Docks District of the city, the Sunken Flagon. Not the most... reputable place, but safe enough."
Marcus nodded. "I understand. So how do I get to Neverwinter?"
"I've made it known that you travel directly for the city… in the hopes that the enemy will pursue you along the High Road. Instead, head to the small port town of Highcliff when you are free of the swamp. There, seek passage on a ship to Neverwinter." The wild elf explained. "The beasts that attacked us will leave West Harbour alone once they realize their quarry has fled. If all goes well, you should be in Neverwinter before they find your trail. Say your farewells, your boots may travel many roads before you return. I let some of the others know you are leaving, but not the why of it." Daeghun said.
"Why does it feel like you want to put my life in danger?" Marcus asked feeling frustrated as he suspected that Deaghun wasn't telling him everything.
Deaghun scowled. "We are all in danger… I will try my very best to keep the hunters busy." He said somewhat testily. "If Tymora wills it, your journey will be quick and safe. But Lady Luck is fickle indeed in the Mere. Steel yourself for danger, I suspect you will see your share of battle before you reach Neverwinter. Stray from the road and the danger is even greater." Deaghun warned. "Now go say your farewells and be on your way, time is not on your side. Do not worry about Amie, Merring will see to her burial. I know you would rather be present but you must leave as soon as you can."
Marcus let out a sigh and nodded, he didn't want to fight with Draghun. As he walked away to find Tarmas, Marcus thought as far as goodbyes went that one he'd just received from his father was classic Daeghun: short to the point and with little or no fanfare.
"This incursion is the most noteworthy event that's happened here in years. I had high hopes for Amie, she was a rare find in West Harbour. A shame she failed to heed her first lesson: always listen to Tarmas." The wizard said sadly.
"I wish I could have done more. She should be alive and you should be telling her off for being so silly." Marcus said gloomily.
Tarmas sighed "You did all you could, Marcus. Blaming yourself for something you can't change isn't healthy." The wizard looked at Marcus a little disapprovingly. "You're leaving at a very inconvenient time as you've shown yourself to be the only one with an interest in the art, and now you're off to the gods know where. Go if you must, but mysteries remain here that need to be answered." He said trying to take their minds off of Amie's death.
Marcus grinned at Tarmas' old dig. "Yeah, I guess I've read most of your library by now at least once… but is it my fault I prefer to wield a blade rather than a spell?" Marcus became more serious. "You mentioned something about… mysteries?"
The wizard nodded. "The swamp has many denizens; most are dangerous and all of them are particularly irksome. But, as Merring pointed out, these new pests aren't native. So it stands to reason they travelled through leagues of swamp trails and this odious smell to get here." After so many years, Tarmas apparently still resented the Mere's all-permeating odours. "Anyone that desperate has to have a good reason. So, whatever you're carrying, guard it carefully. Anyone fool enough to go through that much effort to come here won't give up easily." Tarmas warned.
"Did Daeghun actually tell you what I was carrying?" asked Marcus surprised.
The wizard shook his head. "He didn't tell me a thing, Marcus. But right after the attack you dart off into the swamp and now you're suddenly leaving. That speaks volumes. It's obvious you fetched something out there. And I'd bet gold that whatever those bladelings were searching for is in your pack at this very moment." Tarmas held up his hands. "But I don't want to know the details. Not to be overly dramatic, but I believe such knowledge could prove... dangerous."
Marcus nodded. "Alright… let's change the subject, then, to something that I always wanted to ask. Why did you ever come to live here? I'd have thought you'd have been happier in a wizard's tower in some city."
Tarmas grimaced. "Suffice it to say that I find the bustle of city life even less endearing than the mosquitoes here. And here I can work quietly... in exchange for teaching some mud-farmer's child a bit of lore every now and again."
"Come on, Tarmas. I know you well enough to know that there's more to the story than that." said Marcus, prying for information.
Tarmas smiled knowingly. "There's more to it than farming and pig contests, of that you can be certain. Come back after you've been to Neverwinter and done whatever it is you need to do, and then we'll talk."
"Alright, but I'll hold you to that wizard." Marcus replied with a grin. "I better get going, I guess." He said standing up.
"Before you go, lad, I have something for you that may help on your trip." Tarmas said as he got up from his chair and walked over to his work table and returned with a case of alchemist's fire. "Here, these flasks may come in useful."
"Thanks Tarmas." Marcus said as he left to look for Bevil and Retta Starling to say his goodbyes there.
"So your father's sent you off to Neverwinter." Bevil said. "As if everything that's happened tonight isn't enough adventuring for one life time. I'm hoping that you'll be back soon enough after you reach the city, but most people who leave West Harbour don't come back."
"It just depends on how long the business that I'm going there for takes, Bevil. And it might be safer if I stayed away for awhile too." Marcus replied.
"Marcus… could you do an old woman a favour when you're in Neverwinter?" Retta asked, hesitantly.
"Sure. I'll try at any rate. What do you need?" Marcus replied.
"As you know, Lorne never returned after the war with Luskan. Even Cormick tried to find out what had become of him but had no luck. If you could keep an ear out and see if you can find anything, please, Marcus, that would put and old woman's mind at ease." Retta asked.
"I'll do my best, Retta." Marcus said as he stood to leave. "Well I better be going. You look after your mother, Bevil."
"I will. Good luck. And if you run across the one who killed Amie, stick a blade through his heart for me. She deserves at least that."
"I will, you can be sure of that." Marcus said seriously, shaking Bevil's hand before he turned to go and find Georg.
"So Daeghun is sending you to Neverwinter, eh? I can't say I approve. If it were a militia matter I wouldn't send you alone, but I don't have any right to tell him how to raise his child. Can you at least tell me why you're going? Your father wouldn't tell me a thing." Georg asked.
Marcus shook his head. "I think it's best if you don't know, Georg."
"I'll trust your judgment. I'll miss your help getting these muck-farmers organized, though. People look up to you, some even had you sized up to be the next one to lead the village." Georg replied thoughtfully. "Not much chance of that now, I expect."
Marcus just grinned. "What can you tell me about the road to Neverwinter? What Can I expect?"
"The road is as wild as a road can get and still be called a road, and that was before the patrols stopped coming, about two weeks back now." Georg said darkly. "There's only the one road in the Mere and that leads to us. There's a small inn on the way though, makes most of its trade off adventurers and the like. Galen... you remember him, the merchant?" Marcus merely nodded. "Well, he says the road is even worse than before. Lizardlings and other creatures have been sighted, and in large numbers. With the way he loves to stop and chat, I wouldn't be surprised if you caught up with him."
"Heard any news about Neverwinter recently?"
"Well, you already know about that war they had against Luskan awhile back. Nasty business that was. Lost too many Graycloaks in that campaign, from what I hear. The whole city was burned to the ground, every last house!" Georg replied in a tone that suggested he was exaggerating at little.
"Come on, stick to the point, Georg. This is serious." Marcus said good naturedly.
Georg chuckled. "Alright, I might be exaggerating a little, but I'm telling the truth when I say that a good portion of the city was destroyed. And the war killed many men. The Watch just doesn't have the numbers they used to. One of the Graycloak's marshals, though, is a Harbourman like you and I. You remember Cormick?"
"Vaguely, yes." Marcus replied. "What do you know about Luskan?"
"Neverwinter's rival to the north? A den of thieves and pirates, it is. Their leaders, the high captains, some of them were pirates. And to make matters worse, a sinister cabal is said to rule from the shadows, the Arcane Brotherhood. There's nothing good about Luskan." Georg looked a little uncomfortable. "I really ought to give you something for your years of help in the militia. You'll be missed." He looked around in his cramped living room until he saw what he was looking for. "Here, take this shield. It's always served me well and even if you don't use it, you can sell it for some gold that might do you some good." he said awkwardly as he passed Marcus a light shield.
"Thanks Georg." Marcus said as he took the shield. "I'm sure it'll come in handy. Well that's it, I think. I better be on my way." As Marcus tucked the shield away in his pack he had no idea that he would soon have a use for it but not in the way he might have thought.
Marcus took one last look round West Harbour, the village that had been his home for that past twenty five years. Gods only knew, if and when he'd be back… then he walked out of West Harbour and never looked back.
As Marcus made his way along the road that would eventually take him out of the Mere, if he'd chanced to look behind him, he may have seen a slender figure following him at a discreet distance, trying to stay unseen and unheard. It was Elanee, a druid of the Circle of the Mere. What she was doing following the lone harbourman was anyone's guess but following Marcus she was.
