Chapter One: Return
The de'Arnise lands, 11 Uktar, 1369 DR
The storm clouds gathered in the sky above, announcing the worst of the autumn rains. A low rumbling of thunder resounded through the sky, combined with the near-sizzling sounds of the falling rains. A whipping of wind churned the pale grass into swirling movement, making the fields resemble more a deep ocean.
Three riders appeared on a distant hill, barely standing out against the swiftly darkening sky. Slightly ahead, and in the centre, one of the three was a woman, whose pale yellow mage robes could be seen with every movement of her heavy cloak in the wind.
The wind tore her hair violently to one side- long, light brown hair. Her eyes were a deep brown, holding compassion, but showing obvious power. Rain dripped slowly down her cheeks, cold and tickling.
Nalia de'Arnise.
She sighed, and turned to face the man on her right, a heavy-set warrior with a two-handed sword strapped to his back. His face was covered by a helmet that looked rather the worse for wear.
Turning from that man, she faced her left, and nodded once to another warrior. This warrior wore a blue tunic that glimmered with an embroidered harp of silver. Two long swords were thrust into a white silk sash around his waist, and a golden harp was bound to his back by another sash of white.
The three stood there for a moment, staring in the distance. With another long sigh, Nalia said, "Shall we continue, gentlemen? I for one do not wish to spend much longer in the icy rain."
With a low chuckle from the man on her right and solemn silence from the man on her left, Nalia leaned forward, nudging her horse. Responding to her movement, the horse leaped forwards, plunging through the empty field. The thudding of iron-shod hooves told her that the two men on either side were following.
The land they passed through as they rode seemed in ill repair. Broken fences littered the place, along with the remnants of fallen walls. There was evidence of crops grown wild and left, and weeds springing in fields that had once been well-tilled.
The further they rode, the more they saw of disrepair.
Tears from Nalia's brown eyes mingled with the rain, as she realised that her land had turned into a wilderness, untamed. She had seen few farmhouses, and most of those had fallen apart.
Six months gone, and this was how her land now looked.
Nalia saw the familiar rise of a tall hill, and knew that once she reached the top, she would be able to see her keep. Despite the ruin of her lands, she could not hide the enthusiasm she felt at returning to her home.
She shrieked with happiness, releasing all the excitement that had built up during her long journey here. When she reached the top of the hill, she was still shrieking. That shriek swiftly turned to dumbfounded silence.
From her vantage point, she could see the keep. Along the walls, the bodies of guards were staked. Gnolls and goblins could be seen, patrolling with their weapons held closely. The crude flags bearing the symbols of their tribes flapped wildly in the storm winds.
Again.
Her home had fallen to evil once again.
Nalia whispered a prayer to Mystra under her breath, and then, as an afterthought, added one to her friend who now resided in the heavens alongside the gods.
Six months ago, she had gone to Athkatla, seeking aid because of the trolls and vile yuan-ti that had seized the keep. Now, mere months later, goblins and gnolls held it.
She had been prepared to deal with the intrigue of Isaea Roenall, who had seized the keep from her. She was not prepared to deal with humanoid invaders. In a fury, she didn't notice when her two companions caught up with her until one of them said, in a gruff voice, "Gods… what is this? Roenall had possession of this place not three weeks back, mistress, I swear. I left them when I heard that you were coming. How could goblins have taken this place?"
Nalia shrugged, "I know not, Cernick. But they will not hold it for long. I'll be damned if I let such filth walk within my walls. Tomas... will you be prepared to fight alongside me?"
The silent man stared at her for a moment, then nodded. Nalia smiled, and was about to speak a thank you, when Tomas spoke. His voice was musical and vibrant. "For a friend of the Harpist, I would lay down my life."
The lady de'Arnise bowed her head. "Thank you, Tomas."
Tomas Aelon had only met her a month ago. He had sought her out in the city of Saradush, only days after her friend had ascended to godhood. The claim he made was incredible. He was a bard, and an agent of the Harpers, who had been visited in a dream by a weak entity- a new god.
It hadn't taken Nalia long to work out that the new god he talked about was actually Kathryn, who was trying to gather worshippers to herself. Tomas was, at present, the only worshipper of Kathryn besides Nalia. He had named himself the leader of her church.
Nalia had a great respect for him. It took unshakeable faith to trust an apparition in a dream, even if it did claim to be a god. She sighed, and forced herself to return to the present, and her captured keep.
* * *
The full violence of the storm was unleashed, and Nalia watched as the indistinct, blurred shapes of the enemy hastened off the walls, most of them going indoors, a few positioning themselves under cover.
She nodded.
Now was the perfect time.
The enemy would not expect anyone to attack during such a heavy storm.
Quickly murmuring the words of a teleport spell, she willed herself and her companions onto the wall. The rushing of air filled her ears, followed by a dimmed flash of light.
Nalia smiled.
They now stood on the wall.
After a quick signal, Tomas muttered the words of an invisibility spell that allowed Cernick to fade from sight. Nalia concentrated on allowing herself to fade into the shadows, knowing that Tomas was now chanting an invisibility spell for himself.
Nalia moved forward, towards a distant gnoll, who stood, half-sheltered from the wind and rain, in the shadow of a tower. Readying her dagger, heavily enchanted and flickering with blue light, Nalia moved until she stood directly behind the gnoll.
Strike.
The word thrummed through her mind, and her muscles shivered as she thrust the knife deep into the back of the gnoll. The dagger, enchanted with a ward of silence, stopped the creature from alerting the rest of the keep as it died. Nodding once, Nalia faded into the shadows again, just as she opened the door that led into the tower.
She knew that Tomas and Cernick would be following. She had cast an enchantment that would allow them to sense in what direction she was moving.
Walking down cracked stone steps, and past discarded bones, she realised just how badly her keep had been treated, first by the Roenalls, and then by the gnolls and goblins.
Continuing to walk down the tower, she stopped, squinting into a bright room. About twenty goblins sat around tables, chattering in their strange language. Nalia could understand most of what they were saying, though it did not amount to anything except curses and crude jokes.
Moving closer to the walls, so that shadows hid her, Nalia whispered a spell with the ease of an archmage's skill, and sent an invisible bolt sliding into the room. There was a faint rushing sound, and then the noise of the goblins talking faded to nothing.
Before anyone could see her, Nalia faded into the shadows once again. She could see the puzzled expressions of the goblins as they tried to talk then realised that now sound was leaving their mouth.
One started moving towards the door that Nalia knew led into the kitchen, and, so quickly that it sounded like insane gibberish, she spoke the words of a spell, and sent a fireball churning through the air. It struck in the centre of the room, and fire flashed.
Heat washed over her, and Nalia felt her skin tighten in painful reaction. Where there should have been the screaming of dying goblins, she just heard the sounds of the storm outside.
Waiting for a long while as the flames died down, leaving thin traces of smoke, Nalia moved into the room. Holding her nose at the sickly smell of burned flesh, she spoke quietly, "Cernick, Tomas… if you go through that door, you will enter the kitchens. Once in the kitchens, you can begin moving through this floor, killing all the creatures infesting it. I will move downwards to the ground floor. By the time I have finished there, you will have finished here… we can then tackle the basement, if there are any creatures there."
She heard the words of Tomas, faintly distorted, as he said, "Good plan, Nalia. We will meet you at the stairs to the basement."
Nalia watched as the door to the kitchens opened, and the closed. Satisfied, she turned and opened the last door remaining in the room, and walked downwards, with her head bowed. It would be a long night.
* * *
A weary Nalia met with the now-visible, battleworn Tomas and Cernick. The bard held his two glowing swords firmly- they were coated with the blood of the fallen. Cernick's two-handed sword pulsed faintly, looking as clean as ever.
All around them, the putrid stench of dead gnolls and goblins… all around them the acrid tint of smoke… all around them the shivering aftertaste of magic in the air. All around them, a faint, barely perceptible darkness that was slowly gaining strength the closer they came to the basement.
The feeling of powerful evil made Nalia feel worried. She had faced things of this power before, but that had been far from her lands, and only in Saradush and the surrounding lands. Such potent evil did not belong in her part of Amn, and she intended to see it defeated.
But how, when she had no idea what it was?
And how, when she had seen evidence of its power in the room just beside where she stood now?
The audience hall.
The audience hall, bathed in blood. Isaea Roenall, nailed to the walls. His guardsmen, tongues torn out and tied around their necks. Legs bent backwards and staked to tables. Such hideous cruelty.
The thing that worried Nalia most about the cruelty though, was the fact that none of it had been done by the goblins and gnolls. According to one goblin she had captured alive, the humans themselves had done it.
But why?
And who?
Those questions would soon be answered.
"Nalia…"
Cernick sounded sick, and she was not surprised. He was the captain of the de'Arnise guard, experienced in protecting the lands from bandits. He was not used to the sickening slaughter of humans.
She faced him squarely, "Cernick. We must grasp our courage for this. What lies in the darkness below will be horrifying, terrible, no doubt… but know this. I have faced worse. I have faced the might of a crazed woman drunk on the power of murder. I have stared into the eyeballs of dragons, and seen their glittering desire for slaughter. Whatever darkness lies here, shall be turned aside by my light. This I swear, by the spells of Mystra herself."
Tomas murmured quietly, "The music of the Harpist shall sing through these halls, and make them great once more. With magic and music, what evil can stand?"
Nalia felt a shifting movement of the evil, from below them, to… alongside them. She turned rapidly, moving her hands in intricate designs. Her words froze, however, when she stared into the eyes of the evil thing itself.
It was a young girl.
* * *
"Plenty of evil can stand against music and magic, bard… more evil than you can imagine. I will show you the truth of this, right after I speak with the high-born lady Nalia. It has been a long time."
Nalia frowned. This girl, with blood dripping from her lips, and bearing a dagger crafted from bone… she had never seen her before. With lips parched and dry from fear and revulsion, she rasped, "I… I do not know you, child. Listen to me, whatever evil holds you… it can be renounced. The gods are forgiving, they love us, all they need is our faith."
The girl laughed. "Stow it, Nalia. Let me enlighten you. The gods aid us only when it concerns them. Even your great Mystra acts in her best interests, and not in the best interests of humanity. And let me show you who I am, high-born lady. Remember in Athkatla, six months ago? In the slaver compound in the Slum District. You and your friend rescued me from the slavers, and gave me gold to escape the city."
Recognition flared within Nalia, and she remembered the innocent girl who they had saved from the trolls within the compound. How could that girl have changed into something so hideous? Once blue eyes were now deep black, and her blonde hair was matted with dirt and dried blood.
"You recognise me now, don't you, Nalia?"
Nalia nodded. "How…?"
A shriek of laughter. "The woman wants to know how! What fun! Shall I show you, Nalia? Shall I show you how the madness entered my mind? Shall I tell how the prince of lies claimed my soul?"
Tomas advanced, and Nalia noticed that his hands now held his golden harp, and strummed the sting lightly. "You will not spread your madness to us, girl. I pity you for falling to the prince of lies, but I will not allow you to claim our sanity. Listen, child… listen, and perhaps this will help."
The light strumming grew in volume, changing gradually into a beautiful song- a strange combination of a tavern ditty and a solemn romantic epic. Nalia blinked back a tear, as she saw the child stare dumbfounded at the harp.
The confusion in the eyes of the girl flashed away in an instant though, turning instead to contorted rage. She leapt towards Tomas, with her dagger held high. The bard took a step backwards, and his playing faltered, but only for a moment.
Nalia, with speed born of instinct, blasted the child with a solid bolt of flame. She crumpled, and fell to the floor. Tomas did not stop playing once, instead moving until he stood beside the girl, who, if her gasping breaths were anything to go by, was dying.
"The prince of lies will claim your minds, hearken to his words, servants of goodness. Listen to the cry of madness itself!"
The girl opened her mouth to cry out, but Cernick pierced her chest with his sword before she could doom their sanity. As the girl coughed up blood, Nalia saw the sudden appreciation for the music that played at Tomas' fingertips. Crying with grief, the wizard de'Arnise whispered, "Kathryn, guard her soul…"