Two days from that time, with aching heads and gaps in their memories, our brave heroes set out from the Sunken Flagon, heading for Old Owl Well. Adahni had woken up that morning in the bunk that Elanee usually occupied. She imagined that she and Neeshka had stayed up gossiping all night, until she went back to her own room and found the tiefling girl sleeping in her bed between two naked sailors.
"Awww... Neesh, come on!" she groaned, leaving the room, "Now Duncan's going to have to wash those sheets."
"I'm going to have to wash those sheets?" Duncan called, "I'm not touching them."
They ate their breakfast in silence, Adahni glowering at Neeshka and Qara glowering at them both. Only Khelgar seemed to be in good spirits as they walked out of the door, evidently having had a good time emptying tankard after tankard and wiping down the bar with the face of a trashtalking longshoreman.
They traveled for the better part of the day, stopping to make camp when they grew weary. Adahni had to admit that she missed Elanee, if only for the shortcuts the druid knew. Adahni forgave Neeshka for her transgression, but only because of how damned unpleasant the redheaded sorceress was. She was in the middle of telling some elaborate joke when they happened upon a small campsite nearly hidden by tall grass and sagebrush. They would not have remarked upon it if it weren't for the little man standing there, reciting poetry to the bushes.
"Now this here is whitethistle, can give you the runs, you know, and I made up a song for it, quite a catchy tune... Whitethistle, whitethistle, all in a row, in Neverwinter Woods they all grow."
"Please, Neesh, tell me I don't sound like that," Adahni whispered.
"Oh!" the little fellow exclaimed, looking up at them, "Well met – didn't even see you standing there. Thought you might be a Wendersnaven at first, but I can see you, so I guess that discounts that."
"I don't have time for this," Adahni muttered, "Is this the path to Old Owl Well?"
"Well, I don't really know," the man replied, "And by that I mean yes. I just didn't have my head on traveling, so it'll take me a few moments to remember where I am – and where the Well of Owls is. Oh, but I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Grobnar Gnomehands, probably guessing where the last name comes from, don't you, well tends to confuse most people. Quite a collector – and maker – and teller of tales, I am, all the Gnomehands are, except the ones they hanged in Luskan." The little man – Grobnar – chattered on.
"If he doesn't shut up in the next minute, they're going to have to call him Grobnar No-hands," Khelgar said, and guffawed at his own joke. Adahni graced him with a giggle.
"So I suppose you think you're a bard," Adahni said.
"Indeed! I am a philosopher! A poet!"
"A dumbass," Khelgar added.
He kept going. He had a lot of lung capacity for such a small fellow, Adahni had to grant him that. She sat down on a rock and let her mind wander, only snapped back into reality when he stopped talking, evidently waiting for a response from her.
"OK, Gnomehands," Adahni said, "I know that you want to come with us, you've been hinting at it for the last hour. I can't take you with now, but if you want a job, there is a tavern in Neverwinter called the Sunken Flagon. I am their resident bard, and I, as you can see, am not there. Speak with Duncan, and tell him Adahni sent you. You can sing to your heart's content and have a warm place to stay, and if I need you I can find you there. Deal?"
"But I really thought that..."
"Great! I'll see you at the Flagon."
"But..."
"Bye now!"
The perplexed gnome started packing his things and had soon disappeared down the mountainside.
"Are you sure that was a wise move, lass?" Khelgar asked.
"He's Duncan's problem now," Adahni replied, "And if Duncan ever wants to get rid of him he better damned well have my violated sheets laundered before I get back. And meanwhile, we are at a perfectly respectable campsite, with a fire just waiting for us."
"You know, I sometimes have my doubts about you," Neeshka said, spreading her bedroll by the smoldering embers, "But every so often there are moments like these." She put her feet up on a rock, her hands under her head, "So what's for dinner?"
"It's not fair," Adahni commented. She had picked up a stick and was rustling around in the sagebrush and whitethistle, hoping to scare up a rabbit, "I sneak away with one village lad – just one! And Elanee's all over me for the next three weeks. But Neeshka... Neeshka can stumble drunk into my bed with two unwashed sailors – sailors! – and Elanee isn't even here to comment."
"I'm sure you're not going to let me forget it," Neeshka sighed, "I thought you and I were alike. A girl needs what she needs and who is anyone else to judge where she gets it from?"
Khelgar was putting his hands to his ears and humming to himself loudly, glaring at the two women. Qara was just looking at them in something like disgust.
"It's nice to know what I'm not just traveling with idiots, but whores as well," she sniffed.
"Oh boy!" Khelgar giggled, watching her mouth form the last word and taking his hands from his ears to rub them together eagerly, "She said it! She said that word again! Get her, Addie!"
Adahni just rolled her eyes, "Should have imagined you were as frigid between the legs as you are hot underneath the collar."
"I'll have you know..."
"That what?" Adahni said, "You've got teeth down there, don't you! I knew it!"
"That's disgusting!"
"So's your face," Neeshka called, "Both of you shut the fuck up, I'm trying to get some sleep."
They reached Old Owl Well around noon the next day, nestled into the foothills of the mountains. The hills rose up on all sides, giving way to threatening-looking mountains in the distance. Their destination was a large encampment, populated mostly by Greycloaks, but also with a few civilians, here and there. It was abuzz with activity, grey-cloaked soldiers training, their sergeants barking orders. Adahni cast about, looking to see who was in charge.
"It's the dwarf," Khelgar said, "He's the captain."
"It can't be," Adahni said, rolling her eyes, examining the blond, bearded dwarf who was deep in conversation with a captain. She drew closer.
"I want those walls up by evening. No excuses. The orcs aren't going to stop attacking just because we need to catch our breath."
"But sir," the captain protested, "The men are having a hard time finding the materials we need."
"You're telling me they can't find any stones? We're in the middle of the blasted mountains! Unless you'd like to report to Nasher that we're overrun because we couldn't find rocks, I suggest you drive some sense into your men and get that wall built."
"Yes, sir, I'll see to it, sir."
"I tell you, I've lost years off my life trying to get this rabble fit for service... and who are you?" he asked, turning to Adahni, "Reinforcements?"
"So you're leading these men," Adahni said.
"If one can lead such a disorganized rabble, then yes. Usually I just point them in the direction of the enemy and hope they stab the right person. I'm Callum. Commander Callum to you. Lord Nasher sent me here to secure Old Owl Well. So what are you doing here?"
"I'm after the Waterdeep emissary," Adahni said.
"Issani? He hasn't arrived yet, should have been here a week ago. I've sent a scout to look for him."
"Issani," Adahni said, "So he does have name."
"Ahh, you're the one from the city watch," Callum observed.
"I see this Issani had no idea he'd be entering a war zone," Adahni said, glancing around at the armaments.
"This assault has been planned for months. We weren't able to warn Issani ahead of time, though. We weren't expecting to be needing a new emissary, to be honest. Still, at least we'll be here to offer more protection."
"Why is this place worth fighting over?"
"Not exactly a student of history, are you? The Old Owl Well is the only known water source for three days in any direction," Callum said, gazing up at her arrogantly.
"Whatever," Adahni sighed, "So what do I do? Just wait here until your scout returns?"
"Oh no," Callum said, "No waiting around for you – I'm counting on you to help with our defense against the orcs."
"Maybe it would be better if I went to search for him on my own," she suggested.
"You may have to if my scout doesn't have any luck. Until then, though, you're staying here."
She sighed, and then started as a horn sounded. She drew her blade, and Khelgar did the same, evidently pleased to be serving under another dwarf.
"Why, why do we always show up just as the shit storm arrives?" Adahni moaned.
"Sound the alarm!" a Greycloak shouted, running through the camp, his face flushed with the effort.
"Great."
Adahni had never seen an orc up close before, and they smelled worse than she had imagined. She thrust and feinted, managing to dodge the worst of the blows and stand up to the lighter ones. The Greycloaks were better fighters than Callum had suggested, and put down the great brutes without too much trouble.
"Another orc raiding party," Callum said, holding a handkerchief to a small cut on his forehead, "We're lucky they haven't attacked in full force. Just wish I could make contact with whoever it is that's been distracting the orcs."
"Some else is attacking the orcs?"
"Yes – someone is out there attacking orc patrols, and it's giving us a chance to build up our defenses.
"So they're on our side."'
"I've been at this long enough to know that you need to control a battlefield – and this new ally of ours is something I can't control."
"Any idea who he is?" Adahni asked.
"The orcs have name for him – Katalmach. They say he attacks without warning, and without regard for his enemy's numbers," Callum said.
"Sounds like someone else I know," Khelgar commented, reaching up and patting Adahni on the shoulder, "And that's not a name orcs give lightly – it's a name they give to warriors who lose themselves in battle."
"It is odd that orc trackers couldn't find him," said a familiar voice. Adahni turned to see Elanee standing there behind her.
"How long have you been there?"
"About fifteen minutes," Elanee replied, smiling a little smugly, "It also doesn't make sense that he would risk stirring up so many tribes in this region."
"Sounds like someone who wants to die to me. If we weren't here, it'd only be a matter of time before all the tribes in the Well hunted down this Katalmach. And then his crusade would be over."
"Commander!" the shout rang out across the camp, "Scout returning!"
A lanky ranger bearing a long bow came sprinting into the center o the camp.
"Pathfinder Willem reporting, sir. I found the emissaries escorts – or what was left of them – but no sign of the emissary. They must have taken him."
"Well then..."
"Farishta," Adahni said.
"Well then, Farishta, you've got our work cut out for you. They probably took him to one of their lairs. Bonegnashers seem to have the upper hand these days, start by checking their lair, just to the northeast."
"All right, kids," Adahni said, "You heard the man. Let's go slay some orcs."
The four companions – Qara had gone to sulk in a tent and would not be roused, set off into the dusty mountains. The first chills of winter had begun to spread across the land and Adahni was grateful for the warmth of her cloak, as her chainmail got awfully chilly against her skin, the cold soaking right through her undershirt and into her bones. The sun was bright, but brought no warmth at all, and the companions traveled in a tight band to shield each other from the wind. Adahni found herself growing used to the smells of her allies, to Elanee's smell of bracken, the stale beer that emanated from Khelgar's pores even when he had not drunk for days, and the slight brimstone odor that accompanied Neeshka. She imagined she, too, had a smell, probably of all the nastiness of the Mere. It was too cold to bathe, and there was no water to do so even if it had been warmer. On the day's journey into the mountains, they kept themselves tolerable by lighting bundles of dry sage on fire and letting the smoldering smoke against their skin.
The orcs were cunning foes. While individual, she imagined that none of them were too bright, when they banded together they were formidable. She had stocked enough potions to keep them alive, but they found themselves spending more time recuperating from their wounds than fighting their way toward the mountain wherein lay the Bonegnashers' lair. They had acquired a tent from the supplier at the camp, and the four of them got very comfortable with each other, simply for the heat of their bodies, and the comfort of sleeping next to another breathing creature that was not out to kill them. Adahni did her best to keep their spirits up. Brawling songs when it was time for brawling, lullabies when it was time for sleeping, happy song s when it was time to roll off of their pallets and continue the journey.
"This old man, he killed one
With a thump on the head and an old dart gun
With a knick knack paddy whack give a dog a bone
Send those stupid bastards home..."
With 'home,' Adahni struck home and removed the unfortunate orc from her blade with a vicious kick. Khelgar, who had heard such songs, took on the next verse, merrily striking about with his axe.
"This old man, he killed two
Slapped their faces and ran 'em through
With a knick knack paddy whack give a dog a bone
Send those stupid bastards home."
Nearing their goal, the song continued, even Elanee joining in. The deaths the 'stupid bastards' died grew more and more gruesome as avoiding repetition necessitated some grim imagination.
This old man, he killed forty-four
Smashed their heads right in the door
With a knick knack paddy whack give a dog a bone
Send those stupid bastards home."
Adahni let the final note die off as she leaned with all her weight on the throat of one of the orc guards patrolling the area right outside of a large cave mouth. The poor bugger struggled, and she took pity on him and stabbed him in the heart. "Well, children, it looks as though we've found our lair. Anybody want to turn back?"
Neeshka raised her hand gingerly, but was rebuffed by Khelgar.
"The orcs inside aren't going to be any different than the forty-four we just slew," Adahni said, "Come on, now, into the fray!"
She was wrong on that count. The orcs inside were bigger, smellier, and harder to kill, and some of them packed quite a wallop when they set their undersized minds to it. They reached deep into the mountains, letting loose a horde of miners who had unfortunately been imprisoned there. Adahni had been hoping for some help, but she got none, and it was nearly an hour later when they arrived, bruised and bleeding, in the throne room of Yaisog Bonegnasher himself.
"Impressive," the orc rumbled, "Even as prepared for an attack as we were, you still were able to fight your way here."
"Damn straight we were!" Neeshka said, jutting out her chin.
"Before I kill you, tell me – why have you invaded my clanhold?"
"I'm here for the bastard you captured," Adahni said.
"So the human is of more value than I was told. I must inform Logram of this. As for you... let us see how you do against the best of my clan." The cowardly leader took off down, deeper into the mountain.
"That was the best?" Khelgar scoffed two minutes later, as he wiped the blood from his axe, "I hope he's in there soiling himself. I would be. If I weren't an Ironfist that is. We Ironfists do not soil our pants when in trouble."
"Nice to know," Adahni said, "Come on, let's see what we can do about this." They chased him through passages, growing increasingly narrow and winding, until they found him, flanked by more guards.
"Why do you continue to hound me? I am Yaisog! I cannot die!"
"Wanna bet?" Adahni shouted, drawing her blade again. Khelgar rushed into the fray, slaying both of his guards like it was nothing. He raised his axe to relieve the orc leader of his head.
"No! Spare me!" the chieftain pleaded, "My tribe still needs me."
"All right, then," Adahni said, "So answer my questions."
"Years ago, in my youth, I would have embraced death. There is no higher glory than to die in battle. But times have grown more desperate. The humans grow strong and send their men to slaughter our warriors. It has fallen to we elders to train our warriors teach them of our ways."
"Us elders," Adahni said.
"What?" the orc said, confused.
"You said 'we elders.' It's us elders. It's fallen to us, not to we. I should run you through just for that."
"Bards," sighed Khelgar, "Always harping about grammar. Can't you see the man – orc – is in the middle of meaningful soliloquy? Don't you think you ought to let him finish?"
"Fine," Adahni said, "But one more grammatical error and he's done."
"Should I fall, that knowledge will be lost forever."
"Is that it?" Adahni asked.
"Yeah, that was it," the orc replied.
"Where is the Waterdeep emissary?" she asked.
"He is here. I should have known our attack would not go unanswered."
"Got that right," Neeshka said.
"So he's not dead," Elanee observed.
"Chief Logram has given my clan the privilege of guarding the human until his forces arrive to bring him back to his stronghold. I know only that this human was to be turned over to the other humans from the north – the ones from the pirate city – Luskan."
At the mention of Luskan, Adahni felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, "Where's Logram?"
"His lair is kept hidden, even from his warlords. I only know that his men always travel deep into the mountains to the southeast, when they return from their raids."
"Fine," Adahni said, "You've managed to answer my questions without any further butchering of the Common tongue. You may go."
The poor chieftain took off down the corridor. They walked to the end of the passage where a rather sleazy looking individual was standing in front of a large chest.
"Who are you?" Adahni demanded.
"I don't know you. Who sent you? Are you here to kill me?"
"Maybe," Adahni said, "You'll know once you tell us who you are."
"Issani. My name is Issani."
Adahni looked at him, a little skeptical. "The emissary?"
"Ah, then I can trust you. I am Issani, emissary from Waterdeep. I must thank Lord Nasher for sending a rescue party so quickly."
"This doesn't look like much of a prison to me," Adahni said, observing the lack of, well, any of the features that a normal prison has. Guards. Keys. Doors. Anything.
"I believe the warlord of this lair wished to keep me close so that he could watch me... and this was the only room available. Don't let the surroundings fool you. The orcs clearly intended to harm me. I am fortunate you arrived when you did. But... what are you doing here?"
"We're going to Neverwinter," she announced, "Come on."
"I assure you," the man said, "I am not entirely without resource. I will be fine on my own."
"I insist," Adahni said, a glint in her topaz eyes.
"I don't trust him," Neeshka said, "Just a feeling, of course."
"There's a simple way he can prove it," Adahni said, remembering what Brelaina had said to her at the start of the whole mess. "He can show us his credentials."
"Unfortunately, the orcs took them from me."
"Well then," Adahni lied, smiling slightly, "How about the name of our contact? I'm sure you were told whom you were to meet."
"Ah... yes. My contact from Neverwinter. Is he here with you?"
"You mean she," Adahni said. Checkmate.
"I suppose you think you're terribly clever."
"Actually, I do," Adahni said, "And I think you're an idiot, and you're going to die like one."
And die he did, Neeshka's dagger still sticking out of his neck. The companions gathered their strength, and went once more, back out into the dusty hills. They picked their way carefully down the mountain.
They encountered a few bands of orcs, but nothing too scary, until they passed through a broad ravine, the sandy cliffs rising on either side, glowing golden in the sunset. A band of orcs blocked their way. Adahni did her usual routine, giving a raucous cry and rushing forward, blade drawn. As the final orc fell, Khelgar gave a yelp of triumph.
"Well, that was entertaining. Looks like we caught them by surprise for a change."
Adahni's eye was caught by movement up on one of the cliffs, and shuddered. Descending upon them was a second band. She raised her shield and braced for impact.
"Just like orcs, they don't know when to quit," Khelgar announced.
But the orcs were not after them. They were after the people standing directly below them in the ravine. In the fury of battle, Adahni caught a glimpse of a familiar face, but didn't remember from where. After the last orc tumbled to the ground, she examined their new companions carefully. Their leader was a man in his thirties dressed in a set of armor that put hers to shame. He had a woman by his side, with sandy hair and a very pale complexion. Adahni didn't really like the look of either of them.
"He's a paladin," Neeshka hissed, pointing at the leader, "Their auras always make my skin itch."
"The Sword Mountains are a dangerous place. More now than ever, with the orc tribes gathered under Logram's banner," he spoke. His voice was deep and rumbling as though belonging to a much older man. Adahni looked up at him defiantly.
"I had things under control," she stated petulantly.
"So I noticed," he replied, a slight smile playing bout his lips, "I thank you then for allowing us to take part in the battle."
Don't patronize me, she thought, but then reconsidered her tone.
"I am Casavir, and my men and I have been hunting this group of orcs for days."
"Ahh, so you're this Katalmach. And I thought I was the only one with a silly nickname!" Adahni announced, "Greetings, Katalmach, I'm Kalach-cha. This is all the men you have? Not much of a force."
She scanned them. They were all heartbreakingly young men and women carrying swords and spears like they had carried hoes and picks before. Two were dead, and one was wounded. She couldn't see anything but his legs, but he looked young. She felt a pang. The young would always die in battle while the old men stayed home and sent them there.
"These are many of the farmers and veterans of the Luskan War who have tried to make Old Owl Well their home – and have been denied by the orcs," Casavir said.
Well, can you really blame the orcs? Adahni thought, but put the thought from her mind, remembering who it was who paid her salary, "There are Greycloaks in the valley, they've been trying to get in touch with you."
"I am aware of that," Casavir said, sighing, "Be assured that my people and I fight against the orcs, if not on Neverwinter's behalf. Whatever your allegiance, if you intend to enter the stronghold of Logram, it is to the north. I can lead the way."
"And your troops?"
"We have lost some men, but I will assemble who I can and join you on the assault," the woman said. Adahni didn't like her tone either.
"No, Katriona," Casavir said, "We have already lost too many, and a massed attack on Logram will only cost us more – I will be going on alone."
"Casavir... sir... we kept you from this once, I think it's best if..." She looked imploringly up at her leader. She had fair features, plump cheeks and a very pale complexion.
"Please, it is important that you do as I ask. Take the wounded, and fall back to the Greycloak camp. Do what you can to help them and keep pressure on the orcs."
"So after all this time avoiding the Neverwinter forces, now you want me to stride right into their camp? Please, Cas, let me go with you. There is no need to keep doing this alone. I can help you," Katriona implored him. Adahni felt embarrassed for the woman.
"For the love of the Gods and all that is holy, enough of this tearful exchange!" Adahni bellowed. She was eager to slay Logram, if only to get back to the camp as soon as she could.
"You have your orders, Katriona."
"Elanee," Adahni said, "Can you go back with them? Care for the wounded and all that."
"If that is how I may best serve the cause," Elanee said, conceding to the odd request. She followed Katriona and the rest of the force, the wounded on their backs, down the mountain, towards the shimmering lights of the Greycloak camp.
"So you know who I am," Casavir, setting out on the trail. Adahni walked by his side, while Neeshka and Khelgar lagged behind, "But who are you?"
"My name is Adahni Farishta."
"That is an unusual name."
"My mother was a bit of a free spirit," Adahni said, wondering if that was even true.
"It is a lovely name and you should be proud to bear it," the paladin said. She looked at him oddly. She wasn't sure if she really liked him, but felt a strong sense that she wanted to impress him. Hand on her sword, they climbed higher and deeper, into the very heart of the Sword Mountains.