Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 7
The awakening
The room was a waste of money, Kivan realised belatedly as he sat by the window. The small space was spartan, stifling. He would have been better off resting under the stars, accompanied by the sounds of swaying leaves in the night. It wasn't as if he needed that many hours of reverie anyway.
But then the leaves and stars wouldn't be able to shed light on what the trouble was in this town or the region surrounding it, he supposed. Perhaps that was the problem with his initial approach. Seeking vermin in the vast wilderness was a monumental undertaking to begin with, and he had chosen to do so without seeking help for so long. These new allies, as troublesome as they can be on some days, could be what tips the balance in the hunt.
He believed Elene when she said she would help him. It seems Jaheira had read the girl right, after all.
Light footsteps halted outside his door. He was on his feet before the knock even sounded. Hunting knife in hand but hidden, he carefully inched his door open. Elene gazed up at him through the gap, her face white as sheet. Blood adorned her front, with a stray line of red on her cheek, overall, far too much to be her own. He sheathed his knife and immediately pulled her inside.
"What happened?" he demanded to know, shutting the door behind them.
"A hunter," she answered mechanically. "She's dead…in my room. Her body…"
He cursed under his breath. Swiftly, he guided her by the shoulder to sit on the bed. "Are you hurt?"
"I…don't think so. Bruises, maybe." She grasped his arm. "Kivan, what do we do about the body?"
"You don't need to worry about that." He straightened, depositing her grasping hand onto her lap. Thinking quickly, he ran a hand distractedly through his unbound dark hair. "Stay here. I am locking this room from the outside. I'll be back."
She nodded, not meeting his eyes.
He left her secure in his room while he went to investigate. Her door was unlocked so he slipped in quietly. Inside was…a terrific mess. He knew an arterial spray when he saw one – blood spatter was on the bedsheets and more of it was pooling on the floor where the body lay. Several items lay strewn across the floor as well, likely the girl using objects as projectiles again. That tactic seems to serve her well so far.
Gingerly, he crouched next to the hunter's corpse. It was a human woman, lightly armoured with a pendant, shaped like a mask, around what was left of her neck. After delivering the fatal cut, Elene appeared to have gone at her a few more times with a dagger, which she then abandoned in the pool of blood. He frowned, troubled by what he saw. It was a vicious onslaught; one he would not have associated with the girl.
He removed the hunter's coin purse and the small pouch attached to her belt, which contained a folded fresh parchment. Unfolding it, his frown deepened when he was greeted with Elene's likeness once again. This time, the notice stated that 'the subject' was likely to have traveling companions and that the bounty price had gone up to 680 gold. He shook his head in disbelief. A veritable king's ransom for someone so innocuous.
Looking around, he started collecting Elene and Imoen's personal effects for packing. It was unlikely that they would want to stay on – too much risk of this hunter having associates nearby, especially at that sort of bounty price. They needed to be off as soon as possible. Once all the necessary items were in hand, he returned swiftly to his room.
The girl had moved to the chair when he entered, staring at her hands. She had washed up but was still clad in the bloody tunic. Some colour had returned to her cheeks, he noted, as she turned to look at him expectantly.
"Get dressed and be ready to head out," he told her.
Her eyes widened at that. "What about the others?"
"We will sort that later." He dropped her pack in front of her. "Now, we need to get you out of here."
She jerked into movement, rustling through her pack for something to conceal the state of her current attire. As she pulled on a jerkin, he instructed her to head to the Temple of Helm in the cover of shadows and wait within the temple's halls for him to collect her.
"That is the safest place you in this town. Can't risk showing your face at another tavern. Ready?" he asked after she fastened her sword belt.
She exhaled shakily, drawing her hood up. "Let's go."
And they moved. Elene left the inn surreptitiously while Kivan pulled the innkeeper aside.
"A woman tried to rob my friend in her room. One of your rooms. Know anything about that?" he growled at the man.
"What?" the man sputtered. "I know nothing! What are you on about?"
"Go see for yourself."
Kivan hauled the man with him as he walked back to Elene's room. The man paled significantly when he crossed the room's threshold and caught the full sight of the scene.
"She barged in and attacked without warning. Who was she?" the elf pointed at the corpse.
The innkeeper peered at the face, then shuddered at the sight. "This woman…she was having ale in the taproom just now, same as you lot. New face, only just got in last night."
Kivan did a double take, looking more closely at the hunter. He was right – this woman was sat at the bar throughout their meal. She must have been listening to their conversation the entire time, waiting for the right time to strike.
"I don't know anything else about her, I swear!"
"We're leaving," the ranger shifted on his feet abruptly. "Keep the gold."
With that, he made his way to the tavern, located between the Temple of Helm and the crop-growing homesteads dotting the town. It was a sizeable place, clearly the preferred venue to spend the evening for locals, judging from the noise assaulting his ears as he approached. Soldiers loitered outside, sizing him up with suspicion. Likely they did not see many elves around these parts unless you counted the mayor himself.
Ignoring them, he entered the tavern unmolested. It was not difficult to spot bright magenta clothing despite the crowd. Jaheira noticed him first, the woman's sharp eyes continually scanning the room even as Imoen plied a drunk local for information. The druid tensed in her seat as she caught his eye. Kivan jerked his head sharply towards the exit and left. He did not have to wait long outside before his three traveling companions joined him in the cool evening air.
"What's wrong? Where is the girl?" asked Jaheira, as straight-to-the-point as always.
"We need to head out. Explanations later," Kivan headed her off before she could ask another question. "Wait at the bridge south of Berrun's home. We'll join shortly."
Jaheira observed his grim expression and decided not to argue. "Very well. I look forward to this explanation of yours."
Elene had seated herself at one corner of the pews within the Temple of Helm when he arrived to collect her. With her head lowered so, one could easily mistake her for a humble supplicant. In fact, she was staring her hands, as if scrutinising a mark there that only she could see. She looked up sharply at his approach but sighed in relief when recognition flickered in her eyes.
"Oh, thank Oghma," she breathed out as she stood. "The others?"
"Close by. Come."
The party regrouped at the bridge to the south of Nashkel and left the town in the cover of night, walking as briskly as they could to dissuade pursuers. As they walked, Elene's recounting of the attack was met with concern and terse questions, but Kivan's exposition on the bounty notice netted shocked silence from the party for a while.
"680 gold? Such a bounty is common for murderers, not for children on the run," Jaheira remarked stormily. "There is no telling how many vultures will be lurking to benefit from this. We can trust no one."
"It's a good thing we're going into the mines. Maybe the interest will fade off by the time we're done," Elene said hopefully.
The druid shook her head. "At that price, the only deterrent would be to build a reputation of strength."
"Yeah, make them think twice about going after you," said Imoen. "Anyway, you shouldn't be on your own now. I'm sorry, Lene, I shoulda been with you."
"It's alright, Im," the elf patted her on the shoulder. "I managed to deal with her."
She looked over to Kivan. He returned her gaze but said nothing. In sharing what had happened, she had glossed over how she ended the hunter's life and he neglected to mention the state of the hunter's corpse. She wondered what he thought of it, but she was too afraid to ask. It was the first time in her life that she had consciously sought to kill someone with her own hands. Even though self-preservation necessitated it, the sheer violence of what she had done and the efficiency with which she carried it out made her feel ill.
They made camp once Jaheira decided that they had put a safe enough distance with Nashkel. Elene tried to volunteer for watch duty, knowing the futility of sleep that night. However, a shake of the head from Khalid put paid to that and she settled into her bedroll for what she expected to be a long night. Her thoughts kept going back to the spray of blood as she plunged her blade into the hunter's neck, and how she kept going even though there was no chance of the woman surviving the blow. At that point, she barely felt in control of herself, and yet she knew precisely what she was doing.
That was the last of her thoughts as she drifted into a fitful reverie.
In her dream, she saw Gorion again, except this time he was as dead in the dreamscape as he was in the waking world. His phantom gestured towards the woods outside Candlekeep – the path was pitch black, and yet she felt a tug deep within her soul, an urge to venture forth and see what lay in store for her there. Turning away from the man she would always call her father, she took the first step toward the darkened woods, steadfast in her new direction. A whisper followed as she strode away, though, something vestigial and sinister that she recognised, but had never yet heard, "You will learn."
She jerked awake in the cool mist of morning, the whisper still echoing hauntingly in her ear. The dream's residue lingered somehow…it felt like fingers treading up her spine before clenching her heart, leaving her to shudder. Turning her head, she flinched in surprise when her eyes met Jaheira's over the extinguished campfire. The druid sat cross-legged on her bedroll, her gaze inscrutable.
"Bad dream?"
"I…" Elene swallowed, looking around and trying to get her bearings. The sky had just begun to turn orange at the edges. Khalid and Imoen were still asleep, Kivan nowhere in sight. "Yes. Bad dream."
"Does it have to do with what happened last night?"
Elene sat up, wiping a hand down her face. "I dreamt of Gorion."
Jaheira's gaze softened uncharacteristically as she sighed. She looked years younger doing so. "He will be missed. It is alright to grieve, child. Khalid and I, we also grieve in our own way."
Nodding, Elene left it at that. She had no intention to keep secrets from Jaheira, but she wished to figure out what was happening on her own. The experienced ones in the group were coddling her enough as it is, moaning about nightmares did not seem like something worthy enough to be added to the list of their concerns. Perhaps she could confide some of this with Imoen later in the day when they can be at a distance from the rest.
The Nashkel Mine was nestled in hilly terrain to the south of Nashkel, at the cusp of the Cloudpeak mountains. Scenic was the journey, so much so that Jaheira grumbled about the need for men to destroy such beauty just for the sake of iron. In a way, there was some benefit in the slowdown of mining activity – perhaps this crisis was precisely needed for nature to recover from man's rapacious extraction.
Upon approaching the mines, however, Kivan called for a halt. "I hear something."
The rest paused to listen. Elene heard what he was referring to – soft clinks against stone.
"Could be miners," she shrugged.
Kivan frowned at her. "Miners use steel picks. Listen."
And so, she did. This time, though, she could discern that the sound of chipping against stone was too delicate to be related to mining work. "What could that be?"
"One way to find out," Jaheira inclined her head in the direction of the sound.
They came upon a craggy rock face within sight of the mine itself. The source of the sound was a man in garish-coloured clothing, chipping away at the rock face with a hammer and chisel. As they drew closer, they could distinguish that he was carving the face of a woman. The man was talented indeed, to be able to draw a discernibly beautiful face with such detail and accuracy into unyielding stone.
"Ah beauteous creature, you are my masterpiece," the man announced breathily, stepping back to admire his work. "Never should I have stolen these emeralds, but there was nothing else that would capture the majesty of thine eyes!"
"Er, hello sir?" Imoen called out to him.
The man jerked back in fright. "Who are you?" He peered at the group, shrinking away as he took in their weapons. "'Twas that relentless Greywolf who sent you, wasn't it?"
"Greywolf?" Imoen replied incredulously. "We have nothing to do with anyone with such a silly name…nor would we want to, really."
"Thank Deneir, I thought I was done in," the man sighed dramatically. Now that the group was within conversation distance with the man, they could see how thin and haggard he was, and how desperation seemed to waft off him. "I am not cut out for a life on the run. Mayhap you can help a foolish sculptor finish his epiphany?"
"Er, what exactly are you doing here?" Khalid wanted to know.
"Naught but the crowning glory of my life's work," the man waved his arm emphatically at the face in the rocks. "Please guard this place and allow me to finish my work. Greywolf will come seeking the bounty on the gems. I will pay with my last possessions if you would do this one service for me."
"You need rest and healing. To continue at this will be your doom," Jaheira shook her head.
"Then so shall it be my doom. 'Tis a work of love, and I shall not find peace until it is done. And I swear, it is very nearly done." The man clasped his hands together and pleaded, "Please. I, Prism, beseech you."
Elene touched Jaheira on the arm. "Maybe we should help him."
The druid took a deep breath as she glanced at her ward, as if gathering patience. "Very well, we will guard you until you are finished, Prism."
The party settled in at the foot of the rock face to wait. Several hours passed without incident. Despite Jaheira's admonishment, Prism downed a potion of speed to help him work faster. Elene suspected that he need not even worry about Greywolf - he would likely die of exhaustion soon if he did not rest. As the sun crested the sky, the intricate carving was done, and it was a remarkable vision of an elven woman.
Prism sighed rapturously as he stepped back. "She is beautiful, is she not? 'Tis a monument to my foolishness. I saw her but once, on the outskirts of Evereska and said nothing. I let thee pass from mine eyes, and mine heart hath cursed me for it!"
Suddenly, Kivan hissed a warning from his perch on the rocks. Barely a minute later, a grey-haired man approached the group, clad in weather-beaten leathers and armed with a sword. Despite being alone facing six people, he swaggered up to them with the type of confidence which can only come from experience.
"I have come for you, Prism," the man said, his voice as harsh as gravel.
"No, not yet!" Prism shrieked. "My work is almost done! Please, I implore you!"
"Your sentiment is wasted on me, fool," growled Greywolf, for that was the only person he could be. "You are but gold in my purse. Do you make your situation worse by hiring help to protect you? Who are you fools?"
"Prism wishes only to finish his masterpiece," Elene called out. "Why not let him? What harm can it do?"
"You should be more worried about the harm I could do. Never have I taken a bounty and not delivered." Greywolf drew his sword, a wicked looking blade which seemed to flicker with blue light as it was unsheathed. "Now stand aside that I might dispense with this fool and claim my prize."
The party drew their weapons. Jaheira pointed her quarterstaff at Greywolf. "We will do no such thing."
"So be it."
For a seemingly aged man, Greywolf moved like quicksilver. He parried Khalid's first strike and caught Jaheira's staff before it connected with his torso. In a quick motion, he yanked Jaheira towards him through her staff, forcing her to release the weapon and turn aside to avoid being skewered by his sword. Greywolf threw her weapon aside and shifted his focus to Khalid, smiling grimly as he advanced on his foe.
Elene cast Armour on herself as she repositioned to try to close in and flank the bounty hunter. Jaheira stood back, calling upon divine Blessing for the group, to focus their attacks.
Despite being outnumbered five to one, Greywolf seemed completely in his element. Khalid had to remain on the defensive the entire fight just to keep himself in one piece. Elene lunged in during opportunistic openings for her sword and dagger, scoring in one nick on his arm, but kept more than a sword-span's distance otherwise. She knew the man's enchanted sword would make quick work of her thanks to her lack of armour. All the while, Kivan and Imoen did their best to strike with arrows but Greywolf kept moving and circling around Khalid, making shots exceptionally difficult.
In a quick exchange of strikes and feints, Greywolf advanced swiftly to push his sword through the gap in Khalid's armour, just below his underarm. As the hunter pulled the blade out, small flecks of ice formed along the wound, eliciting a shocked gasp from the half-elf. Before he could finish the wounded man, however, an arrow found its mark on his shoulder, forcing him to backpedal and reposition himself. This time he kept Elene between him and the archers to confound their line of fire. The hunter sized up his new quarry as he adjusted his footwork. After a moment, his eyes widened in recognition.
"Wait, I recognise you. Your bounty is worth double of Prism's gems!" Greywolf grinned, his canines flashing. "Seems this will be a very profitable trip indeed!"
That was all the warning Elene received before he closed the distance, his speed startling her into instinctive defence. Thinking quickly, she sidestepped to position him for Imoen and Kivan. Experienced as he was, he simply halted his charge, eyes narrowing as an arrow whipped over his head. The next few minutes were a stalemate, him reaching forward to test her defence and she continually trying to goad him into the archers' range.
The situation changed when Prism suddenly leaped onto Greywolf's back with inhuman speed, planting a dagger downward into his shoulder. Growling, the hunter whirled around with his sword, catching the sculptor on his side, leaving behind a trail of crimson. Imoen drew a wand from her belt and fired off a shot of magic missile in tandem with Kivan's arrow. Both projectiles hit, with the arrow especially striking deep into Greywolf's torso. Elene rushed forward with gritted teeth, running her sword clean through the man as he turned to face her. While she did not have his experience, she struck with a purpose – it was aimed squarely for where she guessed his heart would be. He was dead before he even hit the ground.
Jaheira was bent over Khalid, already healing the worst of his wound. Imoen rushed to Prism's aid, but the artist weakly pushed away her hands. He stared in trance at the face on the rocks, his masterpiece. While the fight had been going on, he had affixed two emeralds into the indent of the eyes. They shone magnificently in the afternoon light.
"O sweet creature, my effigy to thee is done. Perhaps our paths will cross in distant realms…and I shall find the courage to call thy name. Ellesime…"
The last word from Prism trailed off in a sigh. He was gone.
Kivan stepped closer to Prism's last masterpiece and studied it closely. "Ellesime, Queen of Suldanesselar? It is not unheard of, men going mad at the sight of her."
"What's so special about her?" Imoen glared at the rocks.
"Divinity," Elene answered, her voice quiet. "Those the Gods touch can unhinge us mortals."
Taking a page from Kivan, she leaned down to strip Greywolf of his valuables, taking special interest in his sword. Magical swords are unaffected by iron rot. After a few test swings with the sword, she decided that she will need to recall the right spell to identify the weapon.
They bundled up Prism in his bedroll, with all his artisanal tools, and buried him in a shallow grave. Greywolf was left where he fell for the carrion eaters' feast.