Part I—Chapter 9: Secrets Revealed and Secrets Concealed
Emily looked around in frustration. She was standing in the living quarters of Olgin Hasterean, a powerful ogre mage who had surrendered quite readily when confronted by her and her companions. Daelan was currently talking with him, commiserating over misconceptions they had both faced in their lifetimes. Deekin was attempting to quietly rummage through Hasterean's vast library, but his efforts were thwarted when a large pile of books came crashing down on his head. This commotion earned the kobold a glare from Sharwyn, who was in the process of painting a picture (a self-portrait, naturally) on a nearby easel.
Emily crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. She wasn't unhappy to see her friends enjoying themselves—after all their running around they certainly deserved a rest—but she herself was unable to relax due to the fact that she had no idea where they were going to go next. They had traipsed all over the main part of the level, the southern realm of the fairy queen Grovel had rambled on about, and now this northern section populated by ogres; in their journeying they had found no sign of either Linu or Tomi, and they had failed to find any way down to the lower levels of the dungeon. Emily knew that there had to be more to Undermountain than they had yet discovered, and she hated standing still without having a plan. Finally, she could take it no longer and marched over to Hasterean and Daelan.
The half-orc was sighing in response to something the ogre had said. "A story I am very familiar with. All too familiar, I'm afraid." He noticed Emily's head at his shoulder and looked down at her curiously. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked her.
Emily quickly realized that she was frowning angrily and forced herself to smile and hide her impatience. "No, Daelan, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I was hoping to ask Sir Hasterean a few questions."
The ogre bowed before her. "My resources are at your disposal, fair lady," he said in his unusually cultured tone. "And please, call me Olgin." He bared his teeth in a rather frightening smile.
Emily tried her best not to recoil from the ogre's painful attempts to be hospitable and said, quite sincerely, "I appreciate the efforts you've gone to to make us feel welcome, Olgin, particularly since we nearly killed you…" Olgin nodded as if this were a pleasant memory. "We really should be moving on now, though," Emily continued, "and I was hoping you could point us in the right direction. The fairy sorceress mentioned that there used to be a flight of stairs near her home, but she said you had moved them some time ago—"
"I was not the one who moved them, no indeed," Olgin cut in. "Halaster himself moved them, just as he moves everything else in this dungeon."
"You do know the stairs I'm talking about, though?" Emily asked hopefully.
"Yes, my lady, I do. I am afraid I have bad news for you, however: the tunnel is collapsed. During one of my battles with the Fairy Queen's forces a spell I unleashed caved it in, sealing it with tons of rock."
The cleric's face fell. "So not only do we not know where the stairs are, we won't be able to get to them even if we find them…" she murmured.
Olgin rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "I suppose you could blast your way through the debris," he said slowly. "Yes, that might be possible…"
Sharwyn looked up from her painting in shock. "You cannot be serious! Are you honestly suggesting we set off an explosion that could very likely bring Waterdeep down on our heads?" Deekin, who had finally extricated himself from his literary avalanche, instinctively covered his own head, not ready to have more things falling on it.
The ogre mage waved aside the bard's concerns. "No, no, not at all. If you are careful to put the ingredients together in the right mixtures, there's an excellent chance the explosion could be controlled. I'm fairly confident it won't kill you!" He smiled his disturbing smile again, which did little to reassure his audience.
Daelan looked at Emily sadly. "Well, I suppose we can always go back to the center and try to figure out what to do with those colored blocks…"
"No!" screamed Emily. "No puzzles!" The others appeared startled by her outburst, and she tried not to blush. "Look, I just don't do well with puzzles. Riddles I'm fine with, just not puzzles… We'll find the staircase, I just know we will! We just need to find a section of wall that looks like it's been caved in recently…"
The cleric hoped she didn't look as helpless as she sounded, but she was mercifully spared from having to ponder that thought for too long by Deekin suddenly pointing at the wall behind her and saying, "Like that wall, Boss?"
Everyone turned to look at the section of wall Deekin indicated, and all were amazed to see that it did indeed look like it had been damaged not too long ago. Emily smiled a real smile for what felt like the first time in ages and said, "Exactly like that wall, Deekin!" She ran over to it and tried to shove her hands into the crevices. When that failed to move the rocks, she unsheathed Enserric to attempt to use the sword as leverage. Enserric took one moment to mystically understand the situation and said simply, "No."
Emily glared at the blade. "It wouldn't hurt to try," she reasoned.
"Yes, actually, it would," Enserric retorted, "so I repeat, again, 'No.' Have I made myself clear enough for you?"
The cleric rolled her eyes and shoved the sword back into her belt. "Daelan," she called over her shoulder, "I think we're going to need that keg of alchemist's fire after all!"
Daelan nodded and put down his pack wherein the fifty pound keg of explosives resided. As he searched the pack's contents, Sharwyn sauntered over to him. "I thought you might like this…" she cooed as she placed her painting directly in Daelan's line of sight. The beautiful bard had created quite a good likeness of herself from the waist up, though the figure in the painting displayed a distinct lack of… clothing.
Daelan choked and immediately looked away. Sharwyn laughed happily at him. "Enjoy!" she sang, and she sashayed away to join Emily at the wall. Daelan sliently fumed as he watched her walk away. When he was confident she was out of earshot, he quickly crumpled the painting up and shoved it into his cloak pocket before resuming his search for the alchemist's fire.
Olgin walked over to join the inspection of the wall. "Am I correct in assuming that you intend to blow the wall up?" he asked Emily.
"Yes, indeed," the cleric replied. "There doesn't seem to be another way."
"Ah, well, then I should probably be going…"
"Hang on, Olgin; I thought you said this would be safe as long as it's controlled!"
"Yes, well, it should be safe. I am a cautious fellow myself, however, so I am going to make sure I am far away from here." Emily seemed about to protest, but Olgin quickly waved her comment away. "Thank you for my life, my dear honorable Emily Emeraude. Best of luck to you in this twisted labyrinth of death!" With one last unsettling smile, the ogre mage teleported away.
"Well, that was less than encouraging," Sharwyn muttered.
"It's not as though we really have any other choice, though," Emily said, trying to stay positive. "Have you found the keg yet, Daelan?"
"I have it right here," replied the barbarian, setting the keg down in front of the wall. "How are we going to light it?"
As he, Emily, and Sharwyn considered the best and safest way to set the fuse, Deekin walked up to get a closer look at the keg. Some of the powder had escaped from the barrel, however, and when Deekin leaned forward some got into his snout. "Ahh… ahhh… aaahhhh… CHOO!" Deekin sneezed, and out of his mouth shot a small tongue of flames.
"Blast it, the kobold's set the fuse!" cried Sharwyn, hastily backing away from the soon-to-be exploding keg.
"Look out," yelled Daelan as he tried to shield the bard from the impending blast.
"I didn't know you could breathe fire!" Emily said with raised eyebrows, oblivious to the chaos that was about to engulf her.
"Ducks, Boss!" Deekin screamed as he flung himself behind the cleric's shield. Emily looked around her and saw no ducks, but she did finally see the lit fuse. She opened her mouth to scream, but any sound she made was drowned out by the catastrophic boom of tons of rock flying into space.
Emily sat on the ground, her arms and legs crossed, her brown eyes fixed on the kobold sitting across from her. Even without her eyebrows, which had unfortunately been burned off in the explosion, it was obvious to all that she was glaring. The blast had successfully broken through the wall, and the stairs down were thankfully unblocked. Upon reaching the next level, Sharwyn had discovered a secret door that led to a hidden treasure chamber. Since there were no other entrances to the room, they had decided to make camp for the night to recuperate… and discus the particulars of what had just transpired. Emily was silent for a long time before finally sighing. "You should have told me earlier, Deekin," she said as evenly as she could.
Little Deekin hung his head. "Deekin knows, Boss. Deekin just worrieds because Deekin not knows where this could leads…"
Daelan cleared his throat. "If I may…?" he asked Emily cautiously. The cleric nodded, so the barbarian continued. "This feeling you've described, Deekin, of your heart beating fast when you're fighting and how that makes you feel stronger… that sounds very similar to how I feel when I am enraged. It is very common among barbarians of all races. Maybe that's what is happening to you?"
Deekin considered this for a moment, and then shook his head. "But Deekin not a barbarian, Deekin just most famous kobold bard."
Emily had to smirk a little at Deekin's continued self-promotion. "I don't think Daelan's suggesting you switch careers, Deekin," she said, a little kinder this time. "What he means is that this sudden strength you feel is nothing to worry about. It's probably connected to your dragon blood somehow, but I'm sure it's perfectly safe. Now, the fire breathing, on the other hand…"
"Deekin tries to control that better, Boss, Deekin promise. Deekin be very sorry about Boss's hair…"
Confused by this remark, Emily reached up to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. To her dismay, the hair fell into her hand as soon as she touched it. The cleric gazed at it in disbelief as Sharwyn stepped in.
"You know, Deekin," the bard began, absently running a hand through the silky red hair that was still firmly attached to her head, "perhaps there is a way you can learn how to command your inner flames. I've heard legends about cults of dragon disciples that worship their wyrm masters so fervently that they take on some draconian characteristics. Maybe if you studied their practices, you could learn how to focus and amplify your growing powers!"
Deekin's eyes went wide at this news, and he eagerly turned back to his boss. "Oooo! That sounds like good idea, doesn't it, Boss? Though, it be up to you, of course. Deekin do what you tells him to. If you wants Deekin to just be faithful bard, instead, Deekin do that and be happy."
Emily looked up at him and smiled. "Oh, Deekin, I can't tell you what to do, not about something like this! You should follow whichever path will make you happy. Sharwyn can certainly handle the bard duties on her own if you want to explore this discipleship for a while."
Sharwyn nodded her agreement, and Deekin jumped up happily. "Okay, Boss! Deekin work on being dragon disciple for now and, ummm, maybe goes back to being bard later? If it nots work out?"
"That sounds fine, Deekin. Now why don't you all get some rest? I'll take first watch."
Deekin was the first to fall asleep, apparently exhausted from his earlier pyrotechnics. Daelan dozed off quickly, too, inexplicably clutching a balled up piece of paper in his hands. Emily leaned against the wall and stared forlornly at the red curl on her palm until Sharwyn came and sat next to her.
"You know, Emily, it really doesn't look all that bad…" The beautiful bard smiled weakly.
Emily laughed harshly. "Really, Sharwyn, that's the best you've got? I thought you were supposed to have a way with words."
Sharwyn rolled her eyes. "And here I thought you valued honesty, priestess. Gods know Linu never seems to shut up about it…." Her voice trailed off as she mentioned the missing elf's name.
Emily placed a comforting hand on the bard's arm. "We're going to find her, Sharwyn. And Tomi, too. I promise."
Sharwyn looked at the cleric in surprise. "Huh. I think I actually believe you."
"As well you should. I have a rather infuriating habit of keeping my word. Drives my less morally upright friends crazy."
The bard smiled. "I have no trouble believing that." She looked at her friend appraisingly. "It's quite possible that your little cosmetic situation here isn't entirely hopeless…" She reached down to the hem of her dark green nymph's cloak and cut off a strip about a couple of inches thick. She motioned the cleric to lean forward and tied it around her head like a kerchief, covering the singed hair around her face. Sharwyn took an exaggerated breath. "Emily, my dear, you look even more beautiful than before!"
Emily scoffed as she ran a hand over the silky smooth cloak fragment. "How is that even possible?"
"Charisma charms, darling. Arcane magic isn't just for fireballs, you know." She winked and got up to return to her bedroll. "Besides, green really is your color."
Emily smiled as she thought of the growing collection of emeralds in her pack. Thanks to the discovery of this treasure room, she was now up to three. She leaned back against the wall, twirling the tied-off ends of the head scarf between her fingers. Before she knew it, she was falling asleep…
She was dreaming of her family farm. She and her little sister Demetra were racing across the field, past a dozen uninterested cows. They were laughing like children. They were children. Emily had not yet left for Hilltop.
Demetra tried her best, but Emily had always been the most athletic of the four. The future heroine looked over her shoulder to see how far behind her sister was, but she was startled to find herself neck-and-neck with… a flesh golem?
"Aaaaaahhhh!" the golem screamed. Emily stopped and watched him run past her, and her farm faded away to be slowly replaced by the halls of Undermountain. The golem ran up to a well of water surrounded by four hanging colored chains. He gestured with his hands, and the chains disappeared. Then he ran into the next room.
"Don't let him close the door!" cried a voice from behind her. Emily turned and was shocked to find she was being yelled at by a drow. He ran up next to her and cursed under his breath. "The Valsharess will be most displeased if we don't recover those chains…" he muttered.
At the mention of the Valsharess, Emily felt her pulse begin to quicken. This was no ordinary dream. This was another warning. But from whom? And why?
The drow glared at her and pointed at the door. "Don't just stand there! Try and open that door."
"Wait, what were you saying about the Valsharess?" Emily asked anxiously. The drow looked at her strangely, not comprehending her question. Before he had a chance to respond, they were distracted by a shout from another drow: "Captain, that goblin has a chain!"
Emily and the captain looked across a wide chasm to see a little goblin running away from two drow crossbowmen. He appeared to be clutching something to his chest. As he fled past the bridge connecting their platform to the rest of the level, he screamed over his shoulder, "Get away! It's mine, mine! My brother Ugtump said I could keep da yellow chainsie!"
The drow captain immediately joined the pursuit, but Emily stayed where she was and watched the goblin run. He was heading for a door that looked somehow familiar…
Emily sprang to her feet, suddenly wide awake. She needed to get to that goblin before the drow did. "Wake up, wake up!" she cried as she unsheathed Enserric.
Daelan quickly shook himself alert. "What is wrong, Emily?" he asked, confused by the cleric's panicked state.
"Drow! Two of them—umm, I think…" Emily bit her lip as she tried to figure out how she could explain what she knew without telling her friends how she knew what she knew. She shook her head, deciding to kill first and answer questions later. "I can hear them coming, let's go!" She pushed open the secret door and jumped out into the hallway.
Sharwyn shouldered her bow, her head cocked as she focused on listening. "I don't hear anything… Do you, Daelan?"
The barbarian shook his head, but both dutifully followed their leader out of their hideout.
"Umm, Boss?" Deekin asked, rushing to be at his mistress's side. "Why is we running into the danger? Wouldn't it be better for us to stay hiding, maybe?"
Emily looked back as she turned the corner. "We can't afford to hide, Deekin. We need to get to that gob—"
The word died on her lips as the real thing died before her, shot in the back by a crossbow bolt. The drow who fired it smiled at Emily in satisfaction. Then he realized he was smiling at a very angry human with a very loud sword.
"I love the taste of elf blood in the morning!" Enserric cried happily as Emily charged ahead, swinging with considerably more precision after a few days of practice. Daelan was right behind her, and the battle was joined.
These drow were far more skilled than the ones they had previously faced, constantly disappearing into the shadows to lick their wounds. Sharwyn slew the first one with an arrow through the eye when his gaze lingered on her a little too long. The second drow's death, however, could almost be called an accident. Deekin was racing to Emily's side, muttering the Mage Armor incantation as he ran, but he ventured too close to the shadowy walls and bumped right into the drow crossbowman. The kobold had been barreling at such a fast pace that his momentum was enough to knock the drow forward. Deekin screamed, out of shock or fear he couldn't be sure, and Emily whipped around, Enserric in hand. As a result, the unlucky drow fell straight onto her pointed sword.
Emily looked with distaste at the corpse of the man she had unwittingly speared. "How am I supposed to get him off?" she asked Daelan.
The half-orc smirked, took the sword, and forcefully separated body from blade. He handed Enserric back to her. "Like that," he said simply.
Emily regarded her sword as if it were diseased. "You know, that wouldn't have been a problem if you were a mace," she told him.
"Oh, really?" Enserric drawled. "The cleric gets queasy at the sight of blood? Honestly, woman, you call yourself a healer. Why, if I still had my body—"
Whatever else the sword was going to say was silenced by Emily shoving it forcefully into its sheath. She dusted herself off and walked over to where Deekin was examining the goblin's corpse.
As she approached, the kobold picked up a yellow chain. "Shoulds Deekin be keeping this, Boss?" he asked uncertainly.
"Yes!" Emily cried, a little too quickly.
Sharwyn's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want a worthless old chain? It doesn't appear to be magical, so no merchant in his right mind would give you any money for it."
Emily bit her lip again, trying not to quake under the bard's scrutinizing gaze. "It must be important. I mean, we are in Undermountain, after all. This is just the sort of unassuming artifact that Halaster would make sure was essential to our progress. That mad old mage! Ha, ha, ha!" she laughed nervously.
Sharwyn threw up her arms. "It's all yours, then," she said airily. She watched closely as the cleric snatched the chain out of Deekin's hands and placed it carefully in her pack. Her head's probably still a little fuzzy from the explosion, the bard thought. Sharwyn told herself this had to be the reason why Emily was acting so strange, but try as she might, she couldn't make herself believe it.
