The Gathering: Part One
The Druid was unimpressed overall with this city, beyond it being a slap in the face of nature, it wasn't even all that fine a place. Sure, she had saved that girl from those thieves the other night, but she had only done that because she despised rapists. In any case, she would be out of the city soon, back into nature and it's motherly embrace. All that remained for her to do was gather the few belongings she left at the inn. Then it was out of this accursed city and back to her beloved Cloakwood.
In her room at the inn, all was not the same as she had left it, most notably was the man lying dead on the floor near an alcove she had not noticed before. He had been run through with a sword after what looked like a short struggle. Two pieces of parchment lay on the ground next to the corpse. One was a spell scroll that would teleport someone. somewhere. The other was a note:
You seem to have made an enemy in this city. That's what happens when you kill two members of an influential criminal family. This fellow was just a warning, and now they are filling the Cloakwood with traps and assassins. I can help you empty the forest, but first I need you help. Use the teleport scroll at midnight tonight. Lay low until then and watch out for the large man downstairs. You do not wish to dance with him.
The druid had no reason to believe whoever had left the note, but he had done her a favor in dealing with the would-be assassin. Perhaps his claim about more in Cloakwood should be investigated, it would be a good way to "lay low" for a while.
The Gathering: Part Two
The day had been a waste for the bard. She had gone into the city to maybe find some inspiration for a new tale, or an inn or square where she could perform for a few gold pieces. Alas, she found none of the former, and even less of the latter. She was on her way back to the inn she stayed at when something caught her eye.
In the mouth of a nearby alley, a man stood wearing a dark blue cloak. This actually wasn't all that remarkable except the day was hot and the man had his hood pulled up over his face. She could not be entirely sure, but she had the feeling that the man was staring right at her. Perhaps even. beckoning her to come. Then he turned down the alley, leaving her wondering.
Pushing her way through the crowd, she made her way to the place where the man had been standing. On the ground, to the Bard's surprise, was one of here own daggers lying there, set deliberately so it was pointing deeper into the alley. Checking the various sheaths hidden about her, she discovered that they were all empty! Picking up the dagger, she headed in the direction it pointed. A few paces further, she found another of her daggers pointing in a new direction. Following this trail of her weapons, she found herself just across from the inn she was staying at, with one of her daggers pointing directly at the main entrance.
Inside her room, she found her last dagger sticking out of her bedpost, supporting a note. It was handwritten and had a map of her room on the back with an "X" over the small dresser. The note said:
After a game of chase, you are finally led home. If it's a story you seek to entertain a brute in some nowhere tavern, find this last tool. Midnight tonight.
Fastened to the underside of the bottom drawer of the dresser, the bard found a Scroll of Teleportation. Midnight, eh? Well, they say that midnight is the witching hour and witches do make for fascinating stories.
The Gathering: Part Three
It had been a couple of days since their little "romp" through town, and the pair had succeeded in staying out of sight and away from the local Thieves' Guild. The Guild was still a little sore about being tricked out into the open. naked.
"Imagine that," the Illusionist remarked. "They're still mad at us about what you did to them"
"What I did? You helped. I wasn't the one who created the illusion that allowed me to pilfer a few things. You're just as guilty as me." The Thief put on a pouty expression.
"You know, if you keep making that face it'll freeze that way." The voice came from behind the pair. Startled, the pair spun around, the Thief with her sword halfway out of it's scabbard, and the mage beginning to cast a spell on the intruder.
The man before them wore a dark blue cloak thrown back to expose his chain mail armor and long sword belted at his waist. Recognition dawned on the pair's faces.
Throwing her arms about the Fighter, the Thief exclaimed, "It's you! It's really you!" The impact was unexpected and caused the Fighter in blue to stagger back a step.
"Yes, it's me, but perhaps not for long if you continue to greet me like that. I was surprised to see you in town, mush more so to see you being chased by a band of rogues. Been making friends again?"
"'Friends' is hardly the word I would choose," the Illusionist grumbled. "You know how she can be." The illusionist simply ignored the glare the Thief shot at her. "What are you doing here? Not a social visit, I think."
"You're right." The Fighter reached behind his back and pulled out a scroll, which he handed to the Thief. "Use this at midnight tonight, I'll explain everything then. See you later." The Fighter turned and disappeared into a nearby shadow.
Opening the scroll they discovered that it was a Scroll of Teleportation. The young mage began studying it; maybe she could decipher the destination.
"My God, it can't be."
The Gathering: Part Four
The cave was dark, for the most part. The only light source was a brooding, blood red glow coming from further up the cave. Then, four shafts of light suddenly appeared, coalesced into human shapes, then, one-by-one, winked out, plunging the cave into darkness once more. Out of the gloom, a sphere of light appeared, floating above the finger of the Illusionist and illuminating the section of cave the four adventurers stood in.
Getting a good look at the others in the cave, the Druid dropped into a fighting stance and hissed, "Rogues! Come to steal from me? Not while I still draw breath!"
"Hold, Druid!" A voice out of the darkness said. Stepping out of the darkness and into the light provided by the mage's cantrip, the Fighter was all business. "None here are your enemies, and all are needed for a great task."
Not relaxing a hair, the Druid turned to face the fighter. "Who in the Nine Hells are you?!"
"Yes," the Bard added, "Who are you to bring us here in the middle of the night? And now that I've thought of it, where is here? There's less light than in a coffin."
"I can answer that last question." The Illusionist turned and pointed toward the red glow. "That is caused by the fiery breath of Osilligar, the Great Dragon, one of the High Dragons that hold the Spine of the World. He will be less than pleased to find five, living, humans lurking about in his cave. Especially since the entrance to it is hidden deep within the mountains and is guarded as fiercely as any dragon can. I assume his horde is further back."
"Hey," the Thief interjected. "Isn't he the one that we-?"
"Yes."
"Oh, my. This might be bad."
"Osilligar is not the issue here, and this is the one place where I could be sure that no one would overhear what I'm about to tell you. If someone knew what was being planned, we would be dead before we could ever begin." The group pushed thoughts of horrible death by dragon to the back of their minds and tried to focus on the Fighter. "The reason I brought you her is because all the peoples of Faerun need you, and so do I."
The Fighter reached behind his back and pulled out a flat box, about half a foot wide, with the imprint of a hand on top. Setting this box on the ground, he placed his hand in the imprint, muttered a few words, and stepped back.
Images began to appear above the box, pictures of all sorts of crimes, from robberies, to murders, and other things to horrible to describe.
"I'm sure I don't have to tell you about the dramatic increase in evil deeds in Baldur's Gate. You have all seen that for yourself. What you may not know is that it isn't limited to that region, but spread across the entire world. After carefully studying and searching I have discovered that there is a source to the madness. The problem is I don't exactly know where it is." The flow o f crimes stopped and the picture of a man hung in the air. "This man does however. His name is Damian and he is the key to finding the source of these crimes. Unfortunately, he himself is also difficult to locate."
The image changed again, this time to five, scruffy-looking, thievish types. "These are his trusted henchman, if you believe this man is capable of trust. If we can find these men, we can find Damian. This image is from a while ago so they may not look the same as this. But I'm sure we can find something." The Fighter put his hand on the box once more and the images disappeared. "I'm not going to lie to you. This will be dangerous. Death is a definite possibility for everyone here. I'll leave the decision to each of you; I won't force you to go. Druid, even if you decide to stay, I will help you clear your forest, and you Bard, I know of other adventures, you could use these tales to spin songs that will marvel your audience. My old friends, I'll provide you with the usual whether or not you come. Think on it while I go and speak with our host."
The Thief gasped, "Osilligar knows we're here!"
"Yes, how do you think we were allowed to meet here? Worry not, debts are paid, friendships forged in a baptism of fire."
The Fighter began to walk off toward the red glow.
"Wait!" The Druid shouted, "You never gave us your name!"
"I am the Blue Knight."
--This chapter was actually a four part series that I had decided to just lump together into one since each little part was fairly short. This way I don't have four separate files I have to deal with all at once. Thanks to mia1218 and rat queen for the reviews, and we'll see if I can get another chapter posted faster than this one.
The Druid was unimpressed overall with this city, beyond it being a slap in the face of nature, it wasn't even all that fine a place. Sure, she had saved that girl from those thieves the other night, but she had only done that because she despised rapists. In any case, she would be out of the city soon, back into nature and it's motherly embrace. All that remained for her to do was gather the few belongings she left at the inn. Then it was out of this accursed city and back to her beloved Cloakwood.
In her room at the inn, all was not the same as she had left it, most notably was the man lying dead on the floor near an alcove she had not noticed before. He had been run through with a sword after what looked like a short struggle. Two pieces of parchment lay on the ground next to the corpse. One was a spell scroll that would teleport someone. somewhere. The other was a note:
You seem to have made an enemy in this city. That's what happens when you kill two members of an influential criminal family. This fellow was just a warning, and now they are filling the Cloakwood with traps and assassins. I can help you empty the forest, but first I need you help. Use the teleport scroll at midnight tonight. Lay low until then and watch out for the large man downstairs. You do not wish to dance with him.
The druid had no reason to believe whoever had left the note, but he had done her a favor in dealing with the would-be assassin. Perhaps his claim about more in Cloakwood should be investigated, it would be a good way to "lay low" for a while.
The Gathering: Part Two
The day had been a waste for the bard. She had gone into the city to maybe find some inspiration for a new tale, or an inn or square where she could perform for a few gold pieces. Alas, she found none of the former, and even less of the latter. She was on her way back to the inn she stayed at when something caught her eye.
In the mouth of a nearby alley, a man stood wearing a dark blue cloak. This actually wasn't all that remarkable except the day was hot and the man had his hood pulled up over his face. She could not be entirely sure, but she had the feeling that the man was staring right at her. Perhaps even. beckoning her to come. Then he turned down the alley, leaving her wondering.
Pushing her way through the crowd, she made her way to the place where the man had been standing. On the ground, to the Bard's surprise, was one of here own daggers lying there, set deliberately so it was pointing deeper into the alley. Checking the various sheaths hidden about her, she discovered that they were all empty! Picking up the dagger, she headed in the direction it pointed. A few paces further, she found another of her daggers pointing in a new direction. Following this trail of her weapons, she found herself just across from the inn she was staying at, with one of her daggers pointing directly at the main entrance.
Inside her room, she found her last dagger sticking out of her bedpost, supporting a note. It was handwritten and had a map of her room on the back with an "X" over the small dresser. The note said:
After a game of chase, you are finally led home. If it's a story you seek to entertain a brute in some nowhere tavern, find this last tool. Midnight tonight.
Fastened to the underside of the bottom drawer of the dresser, the bard found a Scroll of Teleportation. Midnight, eh? Well, they say that midnight is the witching hour and witches do make for fascinating stories.
The Gathering: Part Three
It had been a couple of days since their little "romp" through town, and the pair had succeeded in staying out of sight and away from the local Thieves' Guild. The Guild was still a little sore about being tricked out into the open. naked.
"Imagine that," the Illusionist remarked. "They're still mad at us about what you did to them"
"What I did? You helped. I wasn't the one who created the illusion that allowed me to pilfer a few things. You're just as guilty as me." The Thief put on a pouty expression.
"You know, if you keep making that face it'll freeze that way." The voice came from behind the pair. Startled, the pair spun around, the Thief with her sword halfway out of it's scabbard, and the mage beginning to cast a spell on the intruder.
The man before them wore a dark blue cloak thrown back to expose his chain mail armor and long sword belted at his waist. Recognition dawned on the pair's faces.
Throwing her arms about the Fighter, the Thief exclaimed, "It's you! It's really you!" The impact was unexpected and caused the Fighter in blue to stagger back a step.
"Yes, it's me, but perhaps not for long if you continue to greet me like that. I was surprised to see you in town, mush more so to see you being chased by a band of rogues. Been making friends again?"
"'Friends' is hardly the word I would choose," the Illusionist grumbled. "You know how she can be." The illusionist simply ignored the glare the Thief shot at her. "What are you doing here? Not a social visit, I think."
"You're right." The Fighter reached behind his back and pulled out a scroll, which he handed to the Thief. "Use this at midnight tonight, I'll explain everything then. See you later." The Fighter turned and disappeared into a nearby shadow.
Opening the scroll they discovered that it was a Scroll of Teleportation. The young mage began studying it; maybe she could decipher the destination.
"My God, it can't be."
The Gathering: Part Four
The cave was dark, for the most part. The only light source was a brooding, blood red glow coming from further up the cave. Then, four shafts of light suddenly appeared, coalesced into human shapes, then, one-by-one, winked out, plunging the cave into darkness once more. Out of the gloom, a sphere of light appeared, floating above the finger of the Illusionist and illuminating the section of cave the four adventurers stood in.
Getting a good look at the others in the cave, the Druid dropped into a fighting stance and hissed, "Rogues! Come to steal from me? Not while I still draw breath!"
"Hold, Druid!" A voice out of the darkness said. Stepping out of the darkness and into the light provided by the mage's cantrip, the Fighter was all business. "None here are your enemies, and all are needed for a great task."
Not relaxing a hair, the Druid turned to face the fighter. "Who in the Nine Hells are you?!"
"Yes," the Bard added, "Who are you to bring us here in the middle of the night? And now that I've thought of it, where is here? There's less light than in a coffin."
"I can answer that last question." The Illusionist turned and pointed toward the red glow. "That is caused by the fiery breath of Osilligar, the Great Dragon, one of the High Dragons that hold the Spine of the World. He will be less than pleased to find five, living, humans lurking about in his cave. Especially since the entrance to it is hidden deep within the mountains and is guarded as fiercely as any dragon can. I assume his horde is further back."
"Hey," the Thief interjected. "Isn't he the one that we-?"
"Yes."
"Oh, my. This might be bad."
"Osilligar is not the issue here, and this is the one place where I could be sure that no one would overhear what I'm about to tell you. If someone knew what was being planned, we would be dead before we could ever begin." The group pushed thoughts of horrible death by dragon to the back of their minds and tried to focus on the Fighter. "The reason I brought you her is because all the peoples of Faerun need you, and so do I."
The Fighter reached behind his back and pulled out a flat box, about half a foot wide, with the imprint of a hand on top. Setting this box on the ground, he placed his hand in the imprint, muttered a few words, and stepped back.
Images began to appear above the box, pictures of all sorts of crimes, from robberies, to murders, and other things to horrible to describe.
"I'm sure I don't have to tell you about the dramatic increase in evil deeds in Baldur's Gate. You have all seen that for yourself. What you may not know is that it isn't limited to that region, but spread across the entire world. After carefully studying and searching I have discovered that there is a source to the madness. The problem is I don't exactly know where it is." The flow o f crimes stopped and the picture of a man hung in the air. "This man does however. His name is Damian and he is the key to finding the source of these crimes. Unfortunately, he himself is also difficult to locate."
The image changed again, this time to five, scruffy-looking, thievish types. "These are his trusted henchman, if you believe this man is capable of trust. If we can find these men, we can find Damian. This image is from a while ago so they may not look the same as this. But I'm sure we can find something." The Fighter put his hand on the box once more and the images disappeared. "I'm not going to lie to you. This will be dangerous. Death is a definite possibility for everyone here. I'll leave the decision to each of you; I won't force you to go. Druid, even if you decide to stay, I will help you clear your forest, and you Bard, I know of other adventures, you could use these tales to spin songs that will marvel your audience. My old friends, I'll provide you with the usual whether or not you come. Think on it while I go and speak with our host."
The Thief gasped, "Osilligar knows we're here!"
"Yes, how do you think we were allowed to meet here? Worry not, debts are paid, friendships forged in a baptism of fire."
The Fighter began to walk off toward the red glow.
"Wait!" The Druid shouted, "You never gave us your name!"
"I am the Blue Knight."
--This chapter was actually a four part series that I had decided to just lump together into one since each little part was fairly short. This way I don't have four separate files I have to deal with all at once. Thanks to mia1218 and rat queen for the reviews, and we'll see if I can get another chapter posted faster than this one.