7 – Knives in the Dark
"Dividing loot may seem like an afterthought, but it can actually be the most dangerous phase of any adventure." –Ribald Barterman, Old Ribald's Guide to Dungeoneering
Ever since they had crossed the trapped bridge the sound of rushing water that echoed off the walls had never ceased. It was actually growing louder and louder now. At first Ashura figured it was a trick of acoustics but as they rounded a bend in the tunnel they came upon the source of the noise: a vast cavern dominated by an underground river. The stream must have merely been a tributary.
The river flowed beneath a series of ledges that clung to the walls of the cave. From the ledge that their tunnel emptied out on there was a natural stone path that led to a large island in the middle of the river. The island itself was dominated by a massive pillar that was rounded at the bottom and the size of a lord's manor. There was a small rectangular doorway leading into the pillar that appeared to be manmade. A cave within a cave. Torches were mounted all along the pillar and above the doorway, reinforcing the impression that it was being used as some sort of home.
They took all of this in within the space of two breaths before burning arrows started streaking across the river and the party was forced to retreat back into the tunnel. As soon as the volley ended Imoen and Jaheira rushed out from cover and sent an arrow and a stone flying over the bridge.
"Better be the last bloody bridge," Ashura muttered. She was so tired of being harried endlessly by these little lizards through the dark; ambush after ambush.
It went on like that a few more moments; ducking out and exchanging fire with the kobolds across the rushing water in a loose sort of rhythm. There was a satisfying yip followed by a splash on the third round. Another on the fourth.
Jaheira cried out in pain when an arrow bit into her bicep as she raised her arm to fling another stone, but there was a yelp from the other side as Imoen shot the offending lizard. At least the arrow that struck Jaheira wasn't flaming.
After that Imoen knocked her bow and asked Ashura to check for more kobolds with "that heat-vision stuff." She crawled beside Imoen and peered around the corner. There was no movement and the only glow came from a prone body with an arrow protruding from its chest.
"Wew," Imoen said. "Maybe they're finally running out of kobolds."
Khalid helped his wife bite down on a strap of leather as she ripped the arrow from her arm. It took the druidess a moment to gather her composure and speak the words of a healing prayer while she gripped her wound. It took her a lot less time to rise to her feet and lift her sling, ready for battle once again.
They watched the island for a time but there was no movement. Falling into formation once again the group carefully approached and then crossed the bridge. No traps so far. With their weapons at the ready they stepped through the chiseled archway.
After passing through the entranceway there was a sharp bend and then: a wide chamber lit by candlelight and floored with silk Calishite carpets, of all things. Violet curtains hung at the entrance to the chamber like the flaps of a traveling pasha's tent and nests of blue and red pillows laid around several short mahogany tables. A large hookah sat on one of those tables and brass braziers hung from the ceiling, filling the room with the smell of cloves and incense.
At the far end of the chamber on a raised wooden dais sat a cushion-lined throne of iron. On the throne lounged a humanoid figure in a purple coat of silk-over-chainmail. He appeared to be a grey orc (or perhaps an orc-blooded human. Ashura had no idea how to tell the difference,) with a flat face, porcine nose, pointed ears and the faint hint of tusks at his lower lip. He regarded his guests with narrow, amber eyes.
"Tazok sent you didn't he?" the orc growled, shifting on his throne.
"Uh," Ashura was all Ashura could think to say in response.
The orc rose to his feet. The black sun and half-skull symbol of Cyric was clear on the front of his tabard. He paced on the dais as he spoke. "If you think you can control the little lizards better than I you're mistaken. I held them in check for months! See how you handle a hoard of these things, always arguing, begging for fresh sources of meat, breeding like rats." He paused.
"Um," Imoen said. "Yeah. Well, Tazok says-"
"Oh, I get it," the orc interrupted. "You're not here to just take the reins. Assassins! Here to clean up this whole operation. Make it disappear." His voice was rising now, his rage growing. "Well, I'm not disappearing!" His hand clenched into a fist that crackled with an orange glow. Suddenly there was motion all about as kobolds armed with knives or swords burst from behind several curtains. The hastily parted silk revealed several side-passages. Behind the reptiles taller figures stalked forward; walking humanoid skeletons that appeared to be stitched together by magic, four in total. The walking bones carried maces or swords.
Ashura ignored the rushing ambush and charged the orc directly, crossing the carpet in the space of a breath.
Shields were braced and steel raised protectively; the rest of the party closing in together in a peloton. The wave of kobolds hit them from either side. Jaheira and Khalid managing to interpose their shields and take the brunt of it.
Reaching the orc and hopping onto the dais Ashura slashed at his stomach while the energy gathering at his fist erupted and flew over her head. Her sword bounced away before it even touched his coat, ringing against some sort of unseen barrier. She turned and stabbed with her left-hand blade but the orc had hefted his mace from his belt by then. He swatted her sword aside and then with dazzling speed he reversed the swing, striking the side of Ashura's head with a backhanded blow. Her helmet rang and she stumbled backwards down the wooden steps.
The orc hefted a kite-shield and pressed Ashura further, stomping forward as her swords were turned aside by mace and shield again and again. One slash got through his guard only to be deflected by the invisible barrier once more.
In her peripheral vision Ashura could see the rest of the melee a few paces away. Imoen and Montaron seemed almost buried under the kobolds that had rushed them, grappling in a writhing mass of twisting tails and awkwardly pointed blades. Jaheira was on her feet trying to fend off two of the skeletons at once. The other two walking dead were bound by shimmering ethereal vines that were probably the druidess' doing. Xzar had backed away into the tunnel but his hands were high over his head and swirling in the gestures of a spell.
In the eye of the storm stood Khalid. He was swaying like a punch-drunk brawler and his eyes were glazed and far away. A faint nimbus of orange energy hung about him.
No help forthcoming. Damn.
Another swing of the mace caught Ashura on the elbow and her left-hand sword went flying, numbness spreading through her forearm. The orc followed up by pressing in close and bashing full-bodied with his shield. Ashura had to stumble back and dance a bit to retain her footing.
An underhanded swing from the mace was aimed at her stomach but she managed to awkwardly block and catch the rod of the mace with her sword-hilt. The momentum of that desperate parry forced her to lean forward slightly, and she was caught by another bash from the orc's shield, full in the face this time. It was enough to send her feet flying out from under her and she plummeted to the carpet.
Over the ringing in her head Ashura could hear the high pitched shrieks of kobolds and the thump of their little feet against the rugs. The orc's silhouette blotted out the light of an overhead lamp as he loomed above her and raised his mace. Before he could swing several kobolds ran over and past Ashura's prone body, some jostling the orc before scampering by. The little creatures went shrieking all the way.
The orc paused, looking around the battlefield and snarling at his panicked troops. As he did Ashura took a desperate breath and then tried to push herself to her feet. The orc's eyes returned to her before she could get up and he brought his mace down. Ashura had braced herself enough to roll aside on the carpet, and as she did she flung her right-hand sword up to meet the orc.
The mace hit the rug with a muffled thunk and the blade struck the orc in the face. There was resistance from the magical barrier but this time it wasn't enough to fully arrest the motion of the sword.
The orc reeled back as a gash opened across his cheek and nose. His shield-hand pressed to the wound, blood welling up around his fingers.
On her feet now Ashura pressed in. She stabbed while the shield was out of the way and her blade sank through coat and chain and flesh. With a grunt and a grip on the orc's shoulder she pressed the sword deeper into his belly. He lost his grip on his mace and it fell to the floor.
Ashura twisted her weapon a bit and the orc let out a deafening howl of pain, lips close to her ear. His breath had the cloyingly sweet smell of cloves.
Throughout the duel with the orc she had heard the dying shrieks of kobolds, and now beyond the frantic breaths of her foe the room was silent. With a rough yank she pulled her sword from the orc's abdomen and took a step back. He sank to his knees, both hands pressing to the wound. Tears of pain shimmered at the rims of his eyes.
"Mercy, please!" he managed to stammer out. "I beg you! I yield! I-"
Ashura raised her blood-drenched sword to deliverer a killing blow.
A hand gripped her wrist and Khalid's voice rang out, not stammering for once, "No! Wait!"
She turned and glared at him. Khalid had apparently recovered from the spell that had put him in a stupor, and his sword was dripping with blood. Behind him Jaheira was leaning over Imoen and applying healing magic to the redhead's prone form. Jaheira's nose looked bent, her upper lip streaked blood. Montaron stood nearby, casually cleaning his sword and apparently uninjured. Of course he would be uninjured. Xzar stood far back, arms calmly crossed over his chest.
"He may have information," Khalid pointed out. "He might tell us who's behind this and why."
Ashura nodded slightly and relaxed her muscles. Khalid let go of her arm, lifting his own sword and pointing it at the orc's throat.
The orc was panting hard. Between gasps he managed to rasp out the words: "I…I'll cooperate. Whatever you need to know. Whatever you want."
"Indeed you will," Jaheira snarled as she left Imoen's side and stomped towards the orc. "And by the Oakfather's power, if I see any sign of lying or treachery I'll call a swarm of fire ants to worry that wound of yours from the inside."
Shaking his head about pitifully the orc stammered, "N-no need. I promise. No trickery w-will…arise!"
Carpets and pillows were flung aside in an eruption of motion. There were dust clouds everywhere along with dry, cracking sounds. Ashura tried to lunge at the orc but her wrists were caught by sharp, talon-like hands that yanked her back with unnatural strength. There were hands on her ankles now and clawing finger bones dug into her flesh.
More reanimated skeletons, Ashura realized. The piles of bones had been hidden all over the room beneath tables, tapestries and pillows. At the orc's command they had lurched up, assembled and attacked all in one horribly swift motion.
Jaheira kicked and flailed as two skeletons grappled with her and dragged her down to the floor. A third undead creature fished a kobold's dagger from the carpet and lurched over her, stabbing down. Khalid had managed to beat the undead creature that grabbed at him back with his shield and now he rushed in to assist his wife. The dagger-wielding skeleton got a third stab in before Khalid's sword flashed forward and ribs shattered. The blow nearly cut the thing in half.
Swiveling her head back towards the orc Ashura saw that he had backed up and pressed his hand to his stomach. The familiar glow of a healing spell radiated from the wound. Ashura redoubled her efforts to break away from the skeletal arms that held her back. She tugged and twisted, constantly switching between arms.
As the pain left his face the orc raised his bloodstained hand, palm pointed at Ashura. "By the Black Sun," he began to intone as amber energy sparked to life across his hand. His next words were slow and deliberate, each syllable chanted louder than the next. "I…"
There was a satisfying crack as Ashura ripped a skeletal arm from its socket.
"…command…"
The second arm snapped as Ashura yanked and punched at it simultaneously. She swung her sword down now, chopping at the radius bones of the arms that gripped her ankles.
"…that…you…"
A second chop and the bones splintered, freeing one leg. She kicked forward and the other arm at her ankle was pulled loose. Dragging it along the floor she stomped towards the orc as his voice swelled to a crescendo and the energy burned like a tiny star in his hand.
"…be- Gak!" His incantation turned into a breathless gasp. His head pitched forward and he lost control of his legs, flopping towards the carpet. The mass of energy at his hand burst into a shower of sparks and vanished.
Behind the broad form of the orc crouched Imoen, her hand gripping a long, bloody dagger. Ashura rushed forward and rammed her sword through the back of the orc's head and into the rug below. There were spasms for a moment and then that was that.
Glancing back Ashura saw that her companions were still frantically struggling with the skeletons. Damn. She had hoped killing the priest would bring them down as well. She placed her foot on the orc's head and yanked her sword free with a grunt, then turned to join the battle.
On the other side of the room Xzar was screaming, "Mommy! Get it off!" A skeleton was clawing at him with its fingertips while he gripped its wrists. Ashura rushed across the carpet, dodging past Khalid as he traded blows with a sword-wielding undead. She leaned in low and slashed at the skeleton that was wrestling with Xzar. Her sword cleanly severed the creature's spine just below the ribcage and it crumbled into is component pieces.
Xzar hopped to his feet and gingerly tossed away the bones that he found himself holding. "Thank you mommy," he told Ashura with a gleam in his eye. The necromancer then patted his hands together and started chanting a spell. A flickering ball of ghost-fire grew and danced between his hands. With the last word (something that sounded like "mortemtus,") the ball went flying into the midst of the undead creatures. There was a hiss that swiftly turned into a piercing shriek and then all of the animated bones locked into place, stone-still.
There was a pause as they all gasped for breath, glancing around. Xzar let out a dramatic cough and they went to hacking and bashing at the skeletons. In the space of a few breaths the frozen creatures were shattered, the magic that held them faltering and the bones scattering across the floor.
As the bones settled everyone but Xzar bent over or sank to the carpet, exhausted and desperate for breath. Once Ashura's lungs stopped burning and she could manage the words she looked over at Imoen, who shared one of the large silk cushions with Montaron. "You okay Ims?" she asked. "Was…huff…worried when I saw you on the ground."
Imoen nodded. "I'm fine. But…" her head tilted towards Jaheira, who lay on the carpet curled in a fetal position as Khalid held her steady. There was a lot of blood, though it was hard to tell the exact source. It was obvious the skeleton with the knife had done some damage.
"I'm…I have no more healing prayers," Jaheira managed to say through raspy breaths.
Ashura glanced briefly at the others then rose and walked over to the half-elven woman. She pulled a healing potion –her last – from her belt. Unstopping the cork she carefully pressed the bottle to Jaheira's lips.
Once she had downed the potion Jaheira murmured a weak "Thank you," and tried to rise to her feet. She winced a bit and wobbled back down to the carpet. At least she was breathing a little easier now.
After a few more deep breaths they took stock. Imoen looked a mess, her leathers torn in half-a-dozen places and her face splattered with blood, dirt and darker things, but she insisted that she was whole. Ashura ached intensely and no doubt there were bruises welling up everywhere under her armor, but nothing seemed broken.
There was a nasty gash on Khalid's side. Apparently the wound had been what woke him from the trance the priest had put him under. There seemed to be no healing potions left, so for now they stitched his wound with a bit of gut-string and bandaged it.
By then Jaheira had managed to stand again and they began to carefully search the room. The dead orc had several rings on his fingers; some that would fetch a good price and one with markings that hinted at magical properties. They also found a square medallion under his coat marked with the holy symbol of Cyric. Khalid claimed that the symbol would work well as proof of what they had done when they returned to Nashkel.
The orc's boots also seemed to have some sort of enchantment, and Jaheira slipped them into her pack for safekeeping. Ashura contemplated replacing her lost chainmail tunic with the orc's armored coat but it was far too large for her. The sleeves would go well past her hands.
More interestingly the orc kept a keychain at his belt, and they soon found a large storage chest tucked away beside the dais. One of the keys easily fit, and inside was a substantial pile of assorted coins along with a few jewels and three swords. Two of the blades were short, gladius-style weapons of matching designed and marked with draconic script along the flats of the blades; a good sign the weapons were enchanted.
Ashura hefted the two short swords, testing their weight and balance.
"Uh uh," Montaron chided her."I use swords o' the shorter variety too, and we're splitin' the treasure even-like."
"Isn't your sword already en-" Ashura began.
"We're splitin' the treasure even-like!" Montaron barked.
"Okay, okay," Ashura conceded and offered him the hilt of one of the weapons. She had seen runes on his sword and dagger and had never seen him fight with two weapons at once, but she didn't want to start anything.
Snatching the sword with a grin Montaron said: "Nothin' quite like pillaging is there? Always my favorite part."
The third weapon in the chest was a longer sword with the sort of frilly, unnecessary curves typical of elven weapons. At the pommel the symbol of a crescent moon was prominently displayed. When Ashura reached out and tried to touch the hilt there was a tingle in her fingertips followed by a sharp electric sting. She yelped and jumped back. Montaron and Imoen both tried to pull the weapon out but came away with smarting fingers as well.
"You needn't bother," Jaheira said as she approached the chest, her voice still a bit low and hoarse. "That's a moonblade. Attuned to a specific elven wielder and no one else."
"Bloody obnoxious thing to surround with treasure," Montaron remarked. "How did the orc even get it in there?"
Picking up one of the smaller silk cushions strewn about the room Jaheira used it to awkwardly grip the hilt and pull the sword free from the bed of coins. The weapon buzzed a bit and sparks jumped before she dropped it on the floor. "Very carefully," she said with a slight smile. "He probably thought this was just some curse he could remove before selling the weapon." With the moonblade out of the way they divvied up the rest of the coins and jewels before continuing to search the chamber.
One side-passage simply led to a small privy, and another held the same sorts of hide beds they had seen at the kobold camp and little else. The third tunnel wound around a few bends and then opened up into a huge natural cavern with a gradually down-sloping floor. The room was much larger than the orc's pleasure-nest.
Stalactites and stalagmites lined the floor and ceiling and at the center of the chamber stood a thick natural pillar. The drip of water echoed through the cavern, the floor a bit soft and silty. There were no tapestries or cushions here but in a relatively clean section of the room a line of tables, benches and storage boxes sat on a long rug of woven grass.
As they entered movement drew their eyes to the center of the room where a figure slumped. It was an elven man who hung from manacles that bound his wrists to the central pillar. He was naked and looked emaciated, even for one of his slender race. Half-healed scars and streaks of blood covered his chest and thighs (Ashura guessed they were lash-marks,) and long, tangled nut-brown hair obscured his face.
The elf raised his head weakly as the party's footsteps lightly crunched on the sandy floor of the cavern. Ashura could see a heavy-lidded eye gleam between dirty locks of hair as he watched her approach. "He must be one of the elves the guards were talking about," she stated. Turning to Imoen she asked "They were from uh…Everska right?"
Imoen nodded. They were standing in front of the prisoner now. "Uh huh." To the elf she asked: "Are you from Everska?"
The man opened his mouth but only a raspy gasp emerged.
"F-for Torm's sake!" Khalid exclaimed as he pushed past the two girls. He had a waterskin in hand and carefully pressed it to the elf's lips. "H-he's had enough o-of interrogations!" The elf drank greedily.
"Ack!" Imoen said. "Sorry. Sorry." She pulled the keychain out of her pocket and began fumbling with it. She had to stand on her tip-toes to reach the lock on the manacles and it took a few tries before she found the right key.
Ashura smiled slightly. Of course Imoen would have snatched the keychain.
When the elf slid down Khalid easily caught him, wrapping his own cloak around the other man's shoulders.
After a few more gulps of water the elven man managed to speak. "I thank you," his voice was a bit raw. He pushed his hair back behind tall, pointed ears to reveal a handsome if haggard face. Khalid helped him walk to a bench and he gave a thankful wince as he sat down. "I am indeed from Everska," he said after a long pause. His voice was somber and nasal.
"The other?" Jaheira asked as if she already knew the answer.
"My partner fell to the kobolds and they took me alive." He looked up and gave Jaheira a long, measured look. "We are Greycloaks. I think you know of us. My name is Xanisteirial Feilien, tasked with finding the source of the tainted iron. In a way I suppose my mission was successful." He winced again.
"I'm afraid I've spent all of my healing magic today," Jaheira apologized.
"No matter," Xanisteirial said. "Mulahey healed me several times. To prolong his…fun. He was less generous with food and water."
"Mulahey?" Imoen asked.
"The orcish priest of Cyric," Xanisteirial said. "I assumed it was his cries of pain I heard a little while ago along with all the other racket. Most satisfying."
"Yeah, we killed him," Ashura said.
"Good," Xanisteirial said, exhausted eyes staring at the floor. He was quiet for a time and Ashura wondered if he was about to pass out, but then he shook himself and began to speak again. "I assume you were here for the same reason as I?" the elf asked.
They nodded.
"Good," Xanisteirial continued, "Because I've learned quite a bit about the iron crisis." He tapped a fingertip against one of his pointed ears. "These pick up a lot more than most would think. Several times I've overheard Mulahey talk with someone who was definitely not a kobold. A human I would guess, named Tranzig. No doubt you've heard of the increasing number of bandit attacks up and down the Trade Way?"
Imoen piped up, "We've seen 'em first hand. Nasty lot those bandits."
The elf nodded. "People think they're just taking advantage of the rising price of iron, but if I heard correctly the bandits are actually highly organized. All under some sort of bandit king named Tazok. Mulahey and Tranzig spoke of him often."
"So this Tazok is our true quarry," Jaheira said. "Though his motives remain unclear."
Xanisteirial nodded. "They seem to be trying to drive the price of iron up by destroying what comes from the mine and seizing untainted iron from trade caravans. I have no idea where the plan goes from there." He shrugged and after a pause he added: "The last meeting between Tranzig and Mulahey was very heated. Apparently the orc's superiors were angry that the kobolds had started killing miners and feared he would be discovered soon." He chuckled a bit. "They were correct I suppose. Tranzig seemed intent on reminding the orc that if he were captured he was to claim he was working for the Zhentarim."
Jaheira nodded. "The tavern rumors say that captured bandits are claiming to be working for the Zhents as well. Whoever is behind this seems intent on framing them for this plot."
"Aye," Xzar said in a strangely solemn tone. "Tis a sad and oft repeated tale. Every evil plot gets laid at the Zhentarim's feet simply because it's what people expect." The necromancer was standing at one of the worktables and carefully brushing his fingers along its contents. Jars and bottles of various alchemical components lined the back of the table while piles of carefully arranged powders and a fine set of brass scales sat at the front. Beside the scales lay piles of parchment.
"The Night Masks," Xzar continued, "the Fire Knives, Red Wizards of Thay, the Cult of the Dragon, Shadow Thieves, agents of the Twisted Rune, the elven supremacists of the Eldreth Veluuthra, rogue Harpers, Sharan cultists…why suspect any of them when you can just blame the Zhentarim?"
"Indeed," Jaheira coldly stated as she stepped in beside Xzar.
Xzar ignored her and bent down over the table, leafing through some papers. He stopped and read one for a while longer than most, smiling. "Ah- hey!" he shouted as Jaheira immediately snatched away the promising leaf. He gave her a hurt look. "But that was the formula!"
"Exactly," Jaheira said, folding the parchment up and stuffing it under her belt. "The formula for the iron-rot mixture. And I'll be keeping it, Zhent."
"Hey now," Xzar protested, "Just because I expressed some-"
"Stuff it!" Jaheira snarled. Khalid was beside her now, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword and his eyes trained on Montaron. The halfling calmly sat at a bench and just grinned back, his hands on his knees. "I've suspected a while," Jaheira continued, "but so far our missions have not been at cross purposes. Shall we keep it that way?"
Xzar waved a placating hand. "Of course. You are fully correct that our mission is to stop the iron crisis. That formula just seemed like a valuable find."
"A dangerous find more like it."
Xzar shrugged and turned back to examining the table. Keeping a cautious distance after that they continued to search the room. In addition to the formula that had caused the contention there were several letters in Mulahey's papers. Looking through the correspondence the only names that appeared were Mulahey, Tranzig and Tazok, discussing things in much the way Xanisteirial had described. Besides that there was little beyond a few notes on kobold lore. Apparently the little lizards really loved dragons and had twenty words for slightly different kinds of tunnels.
In one of the wooden boxes beneath the tables they found some clothes that were apparently the elf's: fine silk and linen garments mostly dyed purple and lined with gold threading. It wasn't quite a smile but a slight look of satisfaction crossed Xanisteirial's eyes as he lifted and carefully arranged the set of trousers, robe and cloak. There was also a lightly bejeweled belt, a jeweled circlet and purple boots. "Glad the orc never got an opportunity to sell these," he said with a little relief.
As he shrugged off the cloak and stepped into the trousers he paused and turned towards Imoen, who was standing close by and staring at his lower half intently. "Um?" the elf asked. "Can I help you?"
Imoen's eyes never lifted from their focus. "Did the orc uh…cut you there?" she asked. "Maybe once Jaheira can heal again..."
The elf looked confused, looked down and then waved his hand. "No. No, that's just a...tradition in my homeland. When we're young the extra skin gets trimmed off. They say it's more sanitary." He shrugged and at the same time slid into his pants, lacing them tight and seeming very happy to have them on.
"Oh," Imoen said, turning away and blushing slightly. "Sorry Xanis…urm…Xanisterl? Xanisteral?"
Xanisteirial shook his head. "Just call me Xan please." He pulled on the his robe and belted it. "In all honesty I get tired of my people's long-windedness as well."
Once they had finished searching the workroom they went back to Mulahey's quarters. Xan surprised the others by bending down and effortlessly picking up the elven sword. He gave it a testing swing and something like the hint of a smile crossed his face. After more searching turned up nothing they made their way out of the kobold den and back across the subterranean river.
Xan pointed to a passage that ran along a narrow shelf round the cavern. It was wide enough for several people to walk abreast but was also a bit sloped and hung over the river. "I can't be entirely sure," he said as they carefully walked above the rushing water, "but Mulahey and Tranzig talked of what sounded like a backdoor that leads to the surface somewhere in this cavern. It's how Tranzig came and went, through what he called 'The Valley of Tombs.'"
"Tombs or not I'll be happy to see sunlight again," Imoen squeaked.
"Not as happy as I," Xan replied.
As they filed along the ledge Jaheira let out a pained gasp and the group halted. The druidess was holding her side and shuddering. Seeing the eyes on her she waved them away. "Just opened the wound a little," she explained. "I'll be fine in a moment."
"No ye won't," a voice behind Jaheira whispered. At the same time her eyes bulged wide. Jaheira's mouth fell open in shock and pain and a trickle of foamy blood spilled from its corner. With a loud clunk that echoed through the cavern she fell flat on her face. Montaron was standing behind her, the hilt of his dagger protruding from Jaheira's back.
Xzar had begun one of his sing-song incantations as Khalid whirled. Steel sang as the half-elf's sword swung from its sheath. "You Zhent bastard!" he screamed as he charged Montaron. Tendrils of golden energy rose to meet Khalid but he charged through them as if they were mist, the look of pure rage on his face never faltering.
Montaron's smug smile vanished as he realized his partner's spell was having no effect. He drew his sword but wasn't fast enough to block Khalid's lightning-quick slash. In an instant the upper half of Montaron's body was flying through the air as his pelvis and legs fell forward, ropey guys spilling everywhere.
"Monty!" Imoen cried out, mouth agape. She sank to her knees.
Ashura's swords were out but confusion kept her from striking. They were her father's friends but…but…
In a whirl Khalid turned to Xzar and charged. The necromancer had started to cast a spell but let out a shocked gasp as Khalid's bastard-sword plunged into his stomach and out the other side. The ghost-light on Xzar's hands never quite went out and he managed to start up the chant again as the two struggled on the a breath tendrils of crackling blue leapt from Xzar's hands and seemed to slither under Khalid's skin. The half-elf quickly grew pale, his pace pained and cheeks getting unnaturally shallow, but the grip on his sword never faltered.
In their struggles they took one step towards the edge of the ledge. Then another. A heartbeat later both men lost their footing and pitched over the side, plunging into the rushing water below.
"Xzar!" Ashura screamed. Her eyes followed the two writhing silhouettes as they floated beneath the surface. She ran along beside them, bending down. Maybe she could pull him from the water. Maybe if she-
A firm hand caught Ashura's elbow and yanked her back. "Are you mad?" Xan barked, narrow elven eyes glaring into hers. A quizzical look crossed his face. "Of course you are," he said as the look turned to one of realization. "I should have noticed earlier." Xan raised a hand in front of Ashura's face and snapped his fingers. "Tiras krali vistus," he intoned.
A fog lifted from Ashura's head that she hadn't realized was there. She blinked several times and then looked at the carnage around her. "He…" she stammered. "They…this whole..?" Xan nodded.
Ashura glanced over at Imoen, who had the same confused look on her face. The look quickly turned to fury as the redhead stood up and kicked Montaron's lifeless lower half a few times. "Nine fucking Hells!" she shouted.
"Xzar had us charmed this whole time!" Ashura growled. "I kept charging into battle ahead of him. 'Guarding his body.' All those creepy little jokes. And he never even mentioned pay! How could I be so stupid?!"
"It's not a matter of stupid," Xan stated calmly. "Enchantments are my specialty. I know of these things."
Ashura whirled around, pointing a sword in the elf's direction. "Don't you even think-"
The elf raised empty hands. "I won't. On my honor as a Greycloak I will not cast an enchantment spell in your direction. Either of you. I swear." They stared each other down a moment longer and he added: "Provided you keep those swords away from me, of course."
Ashura continued to glare. After a time she lowered her blade. "Good enough I suppose." She turned back to the rushing water. There was no sign of Khalid or Xzar. Both had apparently been swept down the river and into whatever lay beyond the cavern. "If that bastard crawls out of the river I swear I'll kill him myself."
Shaking her head Ashura walked over to Jaheira and turned her body over. Wide empty eyes stared up at the ceiling. "What a mess," she said with a sigh as she leaned forward and pushed Jaheira's eyes shut. "Sorry daddy," she whispered.
Soon Ashura and Imoen turned to practical matters: searching what remained of their companions. Ashura replaced her remaining mundane sword with the magical weapon Montaron had claimed and found that the little bastard had two healing potions secured in bags at his belt. Imoen took Montaron's enchanted dagger out of Jaheira's back and cleaned it. She also claimed the halfling's kit of what seemed to be poisons and thief's tools.
Bending over Jaheira's body Ashura pondered. "It's got some holes in it," she said as she began to undo the straps of Jaheira's armor, "but it'll fit me better than the orc's chain coat." As it turned out Jaheira's splintmail was about her size. She shrugged out of her studded leather tunic and into the heavier set, Imoen assisting with all the straps.
"I hope it serves you better than she," Xan noted.
Ashura shrugged. "At least till we get back to town."
There was a decent amount of coin in the druidess' bags as well as some gems and nick-knacks. She also carried two potions: some liquid in a transparent bottle that Xan sniffed and claimed was a potion of invisibility and a green potion that cold supposedly cure poison. Imoen happily snatched that potion of invisibility up.
One of the more valuable looking finds was a small jeweled pin that depicted a harp held within a crescent moon. "You do not want to carry or attempt to sell that," Xan warned.
Ashura gave him a curious look.
Xan raised an eyebrow. "You don't know what that is?" he asked.
Imoen and Ashura both shook their heads.
"It's the badge of a Harper. Apparently your friend was one of them."
"Gorion always spoke well of the Harpers," Ashura noted. "I wonder…oh. Of course," she muttered as it all fell into place. It was the Harpers who had sent Gorion, Khalid and Jaheira on all those "missions." She stared at the tiny pin for a moment before shaking her head and tossing it into the river.
Next they tossed Montaron a piece at a time into the water, then carefully rolled Jaheira's body over the ledge. Her long brown hair and torn green tunic billowed out around her as she drifted along the surface in the direction her husband had gone. After a time the body slipped under some low-hanging stone and she disappeared into the darkness.
With their rough little funeral finished the three of them continued along the ledge and down a tunnel at the far end. Ashura wasn't sure but she thought she could see light somewhere ahead.
End of Part One