Rolen found himself in the tavern of a small town just outside Waterdeep, looking at the notice board. A request had come up to retrieve stolen jewels that had belonged to a local wizard. Protecting the practice of magic was high on Rolen's list of priorities, and the task seemed simple enough. It was a small wrong to be righted, but he had to start somewhere. He read the details further. Some members of a nomadic group, the Gur, were suspected of being the thieves. Rolen didn't know much about the Gur but was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. The suspected perpetrator was last seen traveling into the forest.
He had been traveling for only a few days equipped with supplies that Lucky had helped him to find. On his back he wore a pack containing a kit with most things an adventurer would need. Strapped to it was a crossbow that Lucky had convinced him he needed. On his belt he wore a simple dagger, which he intended mainly to use cutting fruit.
After accepting the mission with the tavern master, he was directed to a small group of adventurers who had also agreed to the task. A woman was decorated with twigs and leaves and carried a staff, she must have been what is know as a druid. She was chatting with a man who was standing close to her. He wore two hand-axes on his belt and stood with his chest puffed out. Two-weapon fighting was a specialty of rangers, Rolen had heard. They glanced at him but went back to their conversation.
There was another man of nature keeping to himself, a ranger's bow draped across his shoulder. He tended to a mug of ale quietly. Alongside him was a magic user by the looks of things. He wore a glove decorated with jewels which Rolen guessed was a casting focus. He had an owl perched upon his shoulder, probably a wizard's familiar. The wizard waved at Rolen, smiling.
Another mage stood by sullenly, playing idly with dark energy from hand to hand. Rolen guessed the energy was fiendish in origin; this man had the look of a warlock. He didn't acknowledge Rolen at all. Finally, an armed holy man dressed in heavy armor introduced himself to Rolen, "How do you do? I am Orel, cleric of Helm."
Rolen shook his hand, "Rolen; I can shoot fire from my hands." The warlock snickered.
Rolen wondered if this was the common practice for adventurers. They were almost perfect strangers but were expected to work together toward a common goal. This was a motley crew who he barely had the chance to speak to. Rolen felt awkward among the group. He felt unqualified for the task at hand in front of these individuals who were armed and armored on a level he had not and possibly would not attain.
The atmosphere at the tavern was tense. The patrons grumbled about the Gur in highly disparaging terms. As a lifelong outsider himself, Rolen took the patrons' glares and jeers somewhat personally although he tried not to show it. Seeing the party, a young-looking elven woman in the trappings of a wizard approached the group, probably guessing what the adventurers were up to. As she approached the warlock got up and went to the bar, dismissing her. She told the rest of the group, "I do not share the superstitious beliefs of my fellow townsfolk. The Gur are people just as anyone else. From what I can see, they share in the fear of this town. There is a greater evil at play here. Treat the Gur fairly and they could become important allies in our struggle."
The haughty rangers snorted, "Thieves are thieves no matter how scared they are."
The quiet ranger shrugged, "I think we should listen to her. I don't know anything about this town or the people involved and she does."
Orel agreed, "Indeed, but if this Gur man is the culprit he should face justice."
The haughty ranger replied, "Just in the last few hours I've heard enough about the Gur to know that they should all be facing justice."
Rolen kept silent for the discussion and observed. The warlock ordered another drink, smiling at the group in a patronizing way. The druid stood by her ranger companion silently and the wizard simply seemed amused by the conversation. Rolen wondered how they would be able to work together.
They set out without many words among them. Rolen enshrouded himself with protective magic for the trip. The trek through the forest was uneventful and quiet. The members of the group acted independently based on their own skills and knowledge. If they had anything in common it was put aside in the interests of the mission. The rangers scouted ahead while the group walked in a careful silence.
One of the rangers spotted something in a clearing and halted the group. Their wizard sent his familiar, an owl, to investigate. He, looking through the owl's eyes, relayed to them that there were two parties standing in the clearing undergoing a negotiation. One party, a Gur man, indeed had the wizard's jewels. He was attempting to barter them for some unknown vials. The other party was a gnome woman under guard by four rough looking men.
Before they could come up with a plan Orel and rangers boldly strode into the grove. Rolen dove into the brush and hid, trying to get a good vantage point on what was happening. What were they thinking? They hadn't even considered discussing a plan of action to retrieve the jewels. Rolen hoped that they had something in mind that he was not aware of.
As the gnome watched them approach she greeted them, "Ah, visitors. It's so nice to see adventurers from time to time strolling through the woods. Much better than finding goblins. Come here, have some brandy." Her saccharine method of speaking was all too obvious to Rolen, who made his living reading people. This woman clearly had a trick up her sleeve.
The haughty ranger gladly accepted and approached. This alarmed Rolen, but he was too far away to give a warning. This was some kind of trap and this man was walking right into it. Before the he could accept the brandy, Rolen stood up and threw out an enchantment. One of the guards instantly passed out and fell onto the ground.
The gnome whipped her head from the fallen guard to the group, thinking fast. She shouted, "Guards! Attack but leave them alive!"
The next few moments happened very quickly. The gnome woman and Gur man darted away. The remaining guards took up formation and moved against the group, who in turn engaged them. Rolen was thankful for his positioning well away from the melee. The cleric and rangers were a whirl of axes and maces, while the guards attacked with their spears. The guards drew first blood against the haughty ranger, wounding him. In response, the ranger struck the guard in the torso with his two axes, hurting the man critically. The guard hit the ground hard, and the other guards were shocked at the escalation. There was a long pause. The gnome, who had been hiding behind her wagon with the Gur, looked like she was about to say something. No sooner had she opened her mouth did monsters set upon them.
These creatures were of the forest. Two of them were small, humanoid, and made of wood. The other two were very large, humanoid, and made of various foliage. They began ruthlessly attacking the adventurers and guards alike. Rolen remembered what the elven woman had said at the tavern. She had mentioned a greater evil, but he had assumed it would be more esoteric. Wherever they came from, these monstrosities were attacking people indiscriminately and had to be dealt with. He scrambled for his crossbow.
The two groups formed up and fought the monsters back, though they proved formidable. The smaller creatures darted around, nipping at the heels of the druid and wizard. The larger creatures engaged the guards, the cleric, and the rangers. Their attacks were brutal, coming one after another. In the flurry, Orel stabilized the fallen guard with holy magic. Rolen shot his crossbow as fast as he could. First he struck a smaller one and split it. The second bolt struck a larger one who appeared to shrug it off.
During the scuffle, the warlock had made his way through the group. Force energy shot from his hand and destroyed one of the wheels of the wagon. The terrified gnome and Gur cowered behind the destroyed vehicle. The warlock cornered them and demanded the stolen gems back, his eyes and hands glowing with dark energy.
In all the excitement, Rolen had little time to think, although he had the inkling that he had read about these creature before. Suddenly, it came to him. Rolen shouted out, "The small ones are needle blights, and the big ones are vine blights. Neither of them belong here!" as he fired his crossbow at one of the needle blights. Something much more dangerous than these creatures had brought them to this place.
The monsters brought down the three remaining guards with heavy blows while the druid and wizard destroyed the needle blights. Orel tended to them as he had the other guard. Suddenly, a vine blight brought down the haughty ranger. The druid launched into action. She cast a spell on her fallen companion, and he arose with renewed vigor. In desperation, he attacked the vine blight who had brought him down. The vine blight was surprised and didn't have the chance to defend itself. With several blows from his axes, the ranger cut it down. The remaining monster charged him but collapsed on the ground just short of reaching his mark, an arrow sticking from the back of its head. The quiet ranger lowered his bow. The monsters were defeated. Rolen let out a sigh of relief from his far away spot. He realized that at no point had he been anywhere near the violence despite all the deaths that could have occurred. He felt cowardly at his actions during the fray.
On the other side of the clearing, the satisfied warlock wrenched the gems away from the terrified gnome. Seeing this, the cleric attempted to tackle him, but landed face-first in the mud as the warlock easily side-stepped him. The two glared at one another before the warlock walked back to the group with the jewels in hand.
The gnome shouted at the group, "If I can't have my jewels, at least give me my vials back!" The wizard waved his hand and enchanted her, and her face went blank.
The wizard commanded, "You don't need the vials anymore. Tell us what's in them."
She responded in a monotone, "I don't need the vials anymore. Two have holy water, the rest are just plain water."
The druid picked out the holy water and threw the rest of the vials on the ground, shattering them. The gnome woman looked on, not reacting.
The quiet ranger asked the Gur man, "What did you need holy water for?"
The Gur responded, "An evil is coming, and the blights were its harbingers. I need it to protect my family." The druid gave him the remaining vials of holy water. Orel shook his head and let the man go.
They returned to town with the gems, their mission completed. The group parted ways with few words.
Rolen was shaken by the experience. The monsters were beyond his abilities and the mission was anything but smooth. The other adventurers had almost killed a man, had almost died themselves, and he wasn't comfortable with the methods they had used in procuring the gems. Was this what is was to be an adventurer? Terror and violence?
After a long journey back to his house, he got back to his room he poured himself a glass of whiskey. His magic was limited and his crossbow had only a little effect on the situation. He would have been an accessory to murder if they hadn't been accompanied by a cleric, but no one would be investigating what crimes may have been committed in such a small village. He had almost seen one of his companions crushed to death by a viscous monster, something that could just as easily have befallen him. Finally, the group conducted themselves as thugs to get what they needed. Rolen wondered if this was the norm.
Still though, there was another quandary. Had taking the gems been necessary? Rolen would have preferred to retrieve them without the threat of violence or mental trickery, but what if the peaceful avenues were futile? His own actions were hardly above reproach. He had been the one to trigger the attack based on gut instinct. He was just as afraid as his peers. He thought of his own words to Lucky earlier, he had committed evil through cowardly weakness while evil was being committed.
Then there was Orel. He acted honorably through the entire ordeal. He showed mercy to his enemies and challenged his peers when they acted dishonorably. He showed the kind of bravery that was rare among men. Perhaps there were at least two kinds of adventurers. Rolen resolved to be the latter. There was still evil that had to be corrected, and he could at the very least face it when it arose among his own peers. He would overcome his fears not only of danger, but of speaking out in the face of injustice when it came from his own side.