So this chapter turned out rather longer than I'd planned; it was either this one or the next one, and at least this way it keeps to a theme...
Anyway, let me know what you think! ;)
Chapter 14: Prejudice in All Its Guises
None of the group had expected to find the high palisade walls of Trademeet bristling with archers, or the gates closed to them. It had taken some persistence from Valygar and Anomen, the group's only native Amnish, to persuade the guards to fetch the town's mayor. And then it had taken Korgan's flippant mention that Jaheira was a druid before they were rather inexplicably permitted entry. After that the mayor took Jaheira, Valygar and Minsc to his house to explain what was going on and left the others to fend for themselves, suggesting that they wait at the only tavern in town.
Trademeet was eerily quiet, a picturesque town centred around a great circular market place, paved in pink and orange stone but utterly devoid of the stalls that one would have expected. Every house had its doors closed, verandas empty, and the chatter of playing children was distant rather than pervasive. Those few locals who were out on the streets looked upon the party with unveiled suspicion, muttering to each other and staring. A few even pointed; it seemed that Yoshimo and Elatharia were particularly untrustworthy on sight.
It took some persistent wandering through the narrow, curling streets away from the abandoned town centre but they had eventually reached the local tavern. Here at least were a few more equally shunned foreigners, stranded by the thus far unexplained lockdown on departures and arrivals. The serving girls looked less than happy to see newcomers to their establishment, though the barkeeper barked a few orders at them and they soon hurried to bring what each party member had requested.
While the others sat down, Elatharia went to the bar with Aerie at her side. It was a strange tavern; not dingy and cluttered as was more common, with not a panel of wood in sight. Instead it was broad and spacious, of smooth grey-blue stone, well-lit by large round windows that gave a good view of this peculiarly verdant town. Tall trees in full bloom stood at every corner, though oranges or lemons hung unripe from some branches. The conversations of the others in the tavern were subdued if occurring at all, mostly consisting of complaints regarding the town's problems without anyone ever stating what those problems were. The demographic varied from well-dressed merchants and their guards to poorly outfitted young adventurers. One young woman in a traveller's robe eyes Elatharia's robe of Vecna with open jealousy. Regardless, all of them looked tired and bored.
"What will you be needing then?" the tavernkeeper asked as the Transmuter and Aerie reached his bar. He was a balding man in middle age, what little hair remained to him grey and turning white. Still, his broad and surprisingly muscular frame, not to mention the scars on his chin and forearms, suggested that he had once been a fighting man of some sort. He eyed them tolerantly, though his tone was gruff.
"We had hoped to sell some items in this town," Elatharia told him after asking compulsorily for a drink, "Where might we find a functioning merchant?"
"Oh, well, you've come to the wrong town right now," he shook his head as he poured Aerie's cider, "There's no gold left in Trademeet while the attacks keep on. No one with the money to sell to, and no one who'd want to take anything you might have to give unless it be food or firewood. There'd be no one to sell it onto, you see." He looked up at them when they both took their drinks, as if he was hoping they would leave him alone. But Aerie leaned forward, her eyebrows raising in concern.
"How awful for you all! What has happened here?" she asked, her concern overcoming her more typical fear of demanding answers from strangers. His gaze softened as it moved to her innocent visage.
"We've been overrun by the druids of the woods yonder," he pointed over his shoulder, to the south, "I think they just had a change of power and their new leader decided to take a bit more offense at our chopping down the trees. Killed all the woodcutters and set the animals of hereabouts on the city. They come in waves, feral or rabid or just plain crazed – whatever enchantments those druids have woven on them, their pets ignore all their injuries until their deathblows. We've lost a lot of good men to this madness, and we barely pushed them back after the last attack," he gestured around himself, "That's when the mayor insisted we lock down the town. And that's when all of these good customers got stranded here. All I've left to serve them is water, beer and cider. Ran out of Firewine five days ago. Hardly got the food to feed my own family, let alone everyone here."
They thanked the tavernkeeper for his information and took their drinks to the corner of the room which teemed with their companions. Haer'Dalis had pulled two of the little square tables together and was sitting in the window sill playing his harp while the others jostled for chairs. Viconia was sitting in the corner nearest to him, rolling her eyes at his musical choices but not actually moving away, wrapped in her cloak in spite of her renewed disguise. Korgan was complaining about Haer'Dalis's harp and making a point of sitting as far from him as possible; that was Mazzy's cue to sit next to Viconia. Edwin, on the drow's other side, looked entirely embarrassed to be in such a lowly tavern and was trying to divert himself with a book; Elatharia took the seat between him and Yoshimo as Aerie went over to sit with Mazzy.
"Did your poorly executed detective work bring you any helpful information?" Edwin enquired with a particularly grudging tone, glancing at her only briefly before pointedly returning to his book and muttering under his breath, "(Why do I doubt that they have?)"
"Druids," Elatharia admitted, sipping on her cider and regretting it immediately. She would never share Aerie's taste for such a beverage. Edwin's eyebrow raised as she winced at the taste and he closed his book slowly, turning to her as her response gained the table's attention, "Druids have been setting the more dangerous animals of the area upon the town." The incredulous looks of her companions did not abate as she related to them what the tavernkeeper had said, Aerie nodding in agreement with every word.
"Druids?" Viconia's tone sounded as disdainful as it was doubtful. She leaned forward as if she could not have heard correctly, "I cannot recall the last time I witnessed one of Jaheira's spells winning a battle for us. This must be a town of weaklings, indeed."
"It sounds as though they are genuinely in need!" Mazzy corrected fiercely, earning the most derogatory glare that she could have from Viconia, though the drow did not bother to respond otherwise.
"I have no intention of staying here," Elatharia disagreed, looking down at her arms where they rested on the table and staring a moment at the bright red and pink bruising covering the majority of her right forearm. Grimacing, she looked back up to her gathered companions and Mazzy's disappointed expression, "Though I do not doubt Jaheira and Minsc will."
"I will stay with them, then," Mazzy insisted, her large blue eyes full of reproach, "Regardless of the reward, these people need our aid." Beside her, Aerie and Anomen nodded fiercely.
"I'm thinkin' I'll be joinin' also," Korgan proclaimed unexpectedly, shrugging nonchalantly when Elatharia looked to him in surprise. She had never known him turn down the promise of one reward for a worse one, "What? I've no intention o' meetin' beasts like those except by me own accord again."
Mazzy looked rather unhappy about this turn of events, but her honour was clearly stopping her from going back on her word.
Of those others who were at the table only Jan expressed any interest in joining those who wanted to help Trademeet, and after this they all sat quietly with their drinks, or muttered to each other over the ludicrous problems the town faced. Elatharia was more than a little frustrated to have the promise of such a depleted party when going to the De'Arnise Hold, especially since it had been Jaheira who made the deal with Nalia De'Arnise in the first place. For a little while at least she was determined to fume in silence, and attempt to collect her thoughts from the attack earlier along with the news the tavernkeeper had imparted.
To her right Yoshimo was sipping at his cider almost as gingerly as she had, attempting to keep a straight face whilst listening to Korgan berating Jan over a typically labyrinthine rendition of one of his many – probably improvised – stories. On her left Edwin was reading from his book in determined, focused silence, while beyond him Viconia and Haer'Dalis were muttering to each other. The bard was still sitting on the window sill but he had one foot braced upon the drow's seat, his shin against her upper leg and his eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned towards her; she was turned away from Elatharia and her responses thus unreadable. Across the table from the Transmuter Aerie, Anomen and Mazzy were discussing some moral topic, most likely spurred on by Elatharia's own unwillingness to help the town. This did nothing to improve her mood.
"Could you remove your wound from my line of sight, incompetent Transmuter?" Edwin complained at last, letting his book down in front of him to thud against the table and punctuate his exasperation. He turned to her with the expression of one who has been forced to endure the most irritating injustice without complaint for a very long time.
Elatharia looked down to where her bare arms rested on the table in front of her, fingers tangled loosely. Her right forearm was indeed a rather brilliant red still, and when she shifted it experimentally a remarkably poignant pain answered. Wincing, and additionally disappointed in the way this day was going, she turned a glare upon Edwin and angled her arm so that it was more readily visible from where he was sitting.
"Concerned about me, Edwin?" she asked.
"Offended by the sight of your ill-tended wound, actually," he corrected predictably and she sneered at him, waving it at him in spite of the pain.
"Careful there, or I'll show you how a little necromancy can fix that for me."
"Ha! Aim your Larloch's Minor Drain to some poor fool who has not taken the time to properly ward himself," Edwin answered smugly before glancing down at the injury and curling his lip, "Now take your wretchedness from my sight," he waved dismissively away from himself, as if actually hoping she might comply, "Or at least seek some proper healing."
"Is this your way of making me feel bad about my own injury so I forget how badly you were limping before?" Elatharia affected a sweet tone, but her green eyes met his dark ones with a rather more wickedly victorious intensity, "Because I've not forgotten. I saw Korgan push you ov…"
Edwin looked ready to Conjure something dreadful to shut her up but the opening of the tavern door and Minsc's ensuing greeting bellow upon stepping through rather drowned out what Elatharia had been about to say. She caught a glance of Haer'Dalis watching her and Edwin with rather evident amusement before turning to the door fully in time to see Jaheira and Valygar joining Minsc, a tall man following them inside. He wore simple linen trousers and a peculiar jerkin that appeared to be crafted from tightly woven leaves and bark; from this, and the rather distracted air with which he surveyed the room, Elatharia had to surmise that he was a druid.
"I have agreed to help this town," Jaheira admitted by way of greeting as she reached their table, an affirmation of Elatharia's earlier summation which the Transmuter acknowledged only with a curt nod, "Minsc will be joining me. I take it you will be moving onwards for the De'Arnise Hold instead?"
"Some of us," Elatharia admitted with a shrug before nodding towards Valygar, "What about you?"
"I will come with you," he told her, "My ancestor's sphere must not be permitted to remain in Athkatla for any longer than necessary – and you did promise to deal with this upon your return to the capital." His voice, half-growl and half-sigh, was as devoid of emotion as usual, his expression set into one of resignation.
"We will," Elatharia promised, remembering Edwin's suggestion that she at least sometimes seek power for herself, not just her sister. Anything she could find in the home of a powerful mage could only add to her own strength when she inevitably moved against Irenicus.
"But Korgan, Jan and I will be staying with you," Mazzy put in now, much to Jaheira's surprise. The druid collected herself well enough to administer a nod and thanks before turning to gesture at the man behind her.
"Let me guess…a druid," Edwin sighed, almost under his breath, bringing a smirk to Elatharia's face as she waited for an explanation.
"This is Cernd," Jaheira said, "He is a druid, formerly of the group who are turning the animals of this region against Trademeet. When he escaped to come for help he was treated with suspicion by the natives and put in a cell. The mayor would like my help in…escorting him from the town and in dealing with the rogue druids."
"We're with you," Mazzy promised firmly, earning a tight smile from Jaheira.
"Any help is to be of great importance in the struggle to come. The land and the sky will grow dark with the malice of those who threaten this place, twisted against the Balance as they have become," Cernd put in now, his voice soft and breathy. His pale eyes were fixed on Elatharia's face in a blank, unreadable way that made her feel increasingly uncomfortable, "Though it surprises me, Jaheira, that you answer to one who will not uncover her face even amongst friendly company."
"Ah," Haer'Dalis made the sound of understanding as if he had been expecting this comment, but Elatharia's stomach dropped in surprise. Most people just let it pass. Occasionally thugs or particularly judgemental people had assumed she was a follower of Mask and threatened her accordingly. She had been known to prove to them precisely how much more efficient and showy she could be in her rage than a follower of Mask. Murder came much more easily to her.
"You would have me uncover my face?" Elatharia asked after an uncomfortable moment of silence. Jaheira had gone pale, though it was unclear if this was from pre-emptory revulsion or guilt.
Edwin turned to look at the Transmuter, frowning darkly.
"I say you kill him for his impudence," he suggested almost mildly. By his side, Viconia nodded fiercely.
"No male should feel it is his right to demand to see the face of a female. Even in this backward Surface world you are more senior than he," the drow pointed out.
Jaheira rolled her eyes at such responses, and Minsc straightened in moral outrage at her side. Aerie made a cry of horror at the very thought, causing Anomen and Mazzy to bristle righteously. Korgan barked a laugh, Yoshimo sipped his cider unconcernedly, looking from face to face, while Jan kept his eyes on his latest contraption and Cernd just waited patiently, arms limp at his sides. He did not appear to be carrying a weapon.
"Perhaps you should ask Jaheira why your request is a bad idea," Elatharia gritted out, straightening in her chair, "I wear this mask to hide disfigurement, not as a badge of faith or a wish to disguise myself. I am a Transmuter; I do not need masks to hide my true self." Except she had found that her markings always manifested upon her face no matter what shape she took – unless she wore a mask.
"All the same, I feel it is not right to agree to anything without knowing the face of the one who would ultimately give the order," Cernd disagreed, even offering a placating smile that made Elatharia's fingers twitch with the need to fire a spell his way.
Looking around at her companions it occurred to her that several of those present had not seen her markings; specifically Jan, Mazzy, Anomen and Korgan. It was quite likely that Yoshimo had no recollection of them, since he had only witnessed her true face for a brief time after they had escaped. Her heart was pounding at the thought. Memories rushed back to her of the monks of Candlekeep whispering openly amongst each other, of their distrustful looks, of Ulraunt's disgusted expressions during her childhood. But all she said was:
"Very well."
She reached up and pulled free the ties, determined not to look weak in front of those who would follow her even as the velvet cloth fell away into her hands, revealing her face willingly in public for the first time since she had been a child fidgeting in Abjuration lessons with Tethtoril back in Candlekeep. She watched Cernd for a moment, seeing him straighten in surprise, realising that he had been expecting scars and not this wretched birthmark.
Unable to smile, but refusing to show the embarrassment and rage that she felt for this indignity, she looked to each of her companions; both Jaheira and Minsc were watching the wall or the table rather than meet her gaze. Mazzy was frowning in confusion or maybe distaste while at her side Aerie was conversely watching Elatharia with sympathy and undoubtedly a great deal of empathy. Anomen was gaping, his eyebrows raising – seeing his shock slowly turning into disappointment, Elatharia was momentarily glad that perhaps something good might come of this moment if it would destroy his misplaced interest for good. Haer'Dalis was looking slightly disbelievingly at Cernd as the silence rang amongst them, while Viconia sat back in her chair – still apparently heedless of the bard's leg against hers – shaking her head with a fierce glare aimed towards this unfamiliar druid. Edwin was looking at Elatharia, his expression hard…and hard to read. Yoshimo was still sipping at his cider and watching the others, while Jan continued to pay no attention to what was going on in the room. He was wearing his goggles and could probably not focus on anything more than three inches from his face.
Eventually, it was Korgan who broke the silence, leaning around Yoshimo to rather tactlessly get a better look at the Transmuter.
"By Clangeddin's twin axes! Are ye demonspawn like the bard, lass?" he sounded curious, slightly incredulous… with maybe a hint of distaste.
"That is not what I have been told," she said absently, looking to Haer'Dalis and seeing him shake his head at her almost imperceptibly before she turned back to Cernd, "Now, have you seen what you wished to see? Am I judged?"
The two groups separated at the gates of Trademeet, those intending to help the town turning south for the Druid Grove a few miles away and the rest heading west for the De'Arnise Hold. Anomen had been uncomfortable around Elatharia ever since Cernd insisted that she show her face – and though Valygar had not been so open about his emotions his manner had certainly not improved towards the Transmuter. She was very conscious that the Helmite had followed her assuming that she would be as good and righteous as her worthy cause and that the ranger lingered because he agreed with her suggestion that the best way to fight his relative's magic at the Planar Sphere was with magic.
As for the others, little seemed to have changed. Haer'Dalis and Viconia lingered near each other increasingly, one watching the other when they were not looking, whispering to each other in the night. The drow did not seem so aggressive towards the tiefling as she had been on the road to the Windspear Hills but it still often looked like she was attempting to persuade him to leave her alone. The Transmuter might have believed this if she had not seen the way Viconia's eyes lingered over Haer'Dalis when he was not looking.
With Edwin rather preoccupied with his study in preparation for the acquisition of the Nether Scroll, Aerie chose to walk with Elatharia and sleep by her side for the brief journey between Trademeet and the De'Arnise Hold. From the avariel's sympathetic expressions and unflappable kindness, the Transmuter had come to understand that Aerie did not just need the company with Mazzy and Jaheira gone, she was also attempting to be positive to combat the perceived hurt that Cernd's request had caused Elatharia. The Bhaalspawn absolutely refused to entertain that such treatment from Aerie might be appropriate but, as many times before, she also found it rather difficult to turn the avariel away.
The Hold was only a day's walk from Trademeet, situated on a rise overlooking the farmland around Athkatla. It would not have been surprising to Elatharia if she had learned the De'Arnise family did actually own most of that farmland. Here there was no relief from the late summer sun as they trudged along the dusty path towards the way-marker for the De'Arnise Hold, dense forest rising up the shallower side of the hill ahead and obscuring a few of the rounded outer towers of the castle atop it.
Anomen in particular was drooping under the weight of his armour, mopping at his brow and panting, gradually falling behind under the relentless summer sun; by contrast Valygar wore his leathers and cloak comfortably. As native Amnish, both men ought to have been familiar with the heat but it seemed the ranger was much better versed in how to dress to combat such weather in a travelling environment.
Yoshimo and Edwin were both natives of much hotter lands than Amn and in such endless heat this fact was particularly evident. While Elatharia had stuffed Gorion's cloak into her bag of holding and was spared further discomfort by the grace of the Robe of Vecna's helpful enchantments, Yoshimo had confidently draped his long black cloak through the strap of his backpack, apparently perfectly comfortable in his black leathers and linen. Edwin still wore his Archmagi jacket fastened over his dark red shirt, his black breeches still tucked into his boots. He, more than any of them, had failed to acknowledge that the sun even existed at all. By contrast Haer'Dalis had unbuttoned his sleeveless jerkin, displaying his loosely laced shirt beneath. A few paces away from him Viconia had utterly given up on wearing her Shadow Dragon Armour, packing it neatly into her backpack and rolling up the sleeves of her thin mithral tunic. She still wore her yellow hood low over her face to protect her eyes from the sun and muttered frequently about the wretchedness of the weather – in spite of her bad mood her eyes had strayed progressively more towards Haer'Dalis.
"This is a lot more exciting than any circus!" Aerie declaimed brightly at Elatharia's side, her large eyes as blue as the sky above them as she pointed towards the hill, "We're going to help those people today, aren't we?"
"If they pay me well," Elatharia answered automatically, looking to her other side as Edwin joined them instead of seeing how her words had affected Aerie's mood.
"Indeed," the Red Wizard sneered, "Our virtuous leader has evidently made the plight of those in that castle of paramount importance. How many days ago did you learn that they had been beset by trolls? Tendays? We may arrive to find that there is nothing left to save."
"Your lack of concern for the welfare of those noble people is a repulsive blot upon this party's honour," Anomen told him breathlessly from a few paces back down the road. Elatharia winced in expectation of an explosive response but Edwin just scoffed.
"Trust me, Anomen, this Red Wizard is as concerned about the idea of nobility being overrun without the help of its lessers as you are," Edwin insisted imperiously.
Elatharia sniggered.
"Edwin, I can't remember – is it your uncle or your cousin who holds a tharchdom of Thay?" she inquired, and – as predicted – the Conjurer looked down at her haughtily.
"Homen Odesseiron, Tharchion of Surthay, is my father, you baboon," her told her disbelievingly.
Elatharia had been about to say more but Haer'Dalis stopped ahead of them suddenly, his blades ringing out of their sheaths slowly as he took up a ready stance. The metal of one blade gleamed red, and the other blue in the sunlight; Elatharia never could remember which was Chaos and which was Entropy. Stopping as well, the rest of the party scanned the beginnings of the forest around them, Anomen turning about to see if anyone had pursued them up the road.
"Who goes there, stalking us through the trees like prey?" the tiefling called, his deep voice well-suited to such dramatic projection.
"No, wait! Haer'Dalis!" Aerie cried unexpectedly as a figure stepped out from the trees wrapped in a thin brown cloak. The avariel darted forward and caught the bard's forearm before he could take a step towards the intruder.
Meanwhile, the stranger – who appeared to be travelling alone – pushed back her hood and the folds of her cloaks with a sigh, revealing herself to be a young woman dressed in an ill-fitting tunic and leggings. The clothes hung from her so poorly and were in such good condition that Elatharia immediately surmised they were 'borrowed' rather than 'stolen' and were intended as some kind of disguise. Meanwhile, Haer'Dalis had lowered his swords at Aerie's urging, in spite of Viconia's sneers, and Yoshimo was regarding the young newcomer's fearlessly reproachful expression with amusement.
"Have you come to help us at the Hold?" the young woman demanded, a frown on her lightly freckled face as she continued to approach, looking at each of the party in turn, "It's about time!"
"And…who are you?" Elatharia enquired, folding her arms slowly and raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
"Nalia De'Arnise. Are you friends of the druid's?" the girl's eyes scanned over Aerie before darting back again, "I recognise you. I asked for help two tendays ago!"
"Oh! Forgive us, please – are you all…as well as could be hoped? We are here to help!" Aerie exclaimed, and Elatharia rolled her eyes.
"Yes, I think so," Nalia sounded distracted, scanning each of the group again before settling on the Transmuter, "Are you Elatharia? Jaheira said you were the leader here, and that you would help…"
"For a price, yes," Elatharia warned as she and the others formed up in front of the young woman.
"Of course, you can have whatever you want – my father and mother are still trapped inside as far as I know but I think a lot of the servants could have been killed. Please, even if you don't understand the dangers my parents face you must care about your own kind?"
"My own…kind," Elatharia echoed her disbelievingly, both eyebrows raising now, "Was that a specific reference to me, or to the group in general?"
"Well, you are adventurers," Nalia looked at them with mild confusion, "Adventurers typically come from disadvantaged backgrounds looking for a better life, right? My father would never let me leave the house unattended – but I have perfected my disguise in order to go out and give to the poor," she smiled proudly, gesturing at her ill-fitting clothes, "I've been taking some lessons in magic and I can pick a lock pretty well when I need to, though. So I can show you the best way inside the castle to rout the trolls who've besieged us."
Haer'Dalis, evidently sensing the nature of the stunned silence that had descended upon the group, turned around with an eyebrow raised and a crooked smile to share his amusement with the others. Seeing Viconia's hand moving to grip the handle of her hammer, he caught the drow by the wrist, backing her up a little as she gave a wordless snarl at Nalia – who seemed fairly oblivious to the seriousness of such a response. Edwin was standing rigid at Elatharia's side, fuming, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"Disadvantaged? Some lessons in magic? I believe our pet avariel has left a space in the circus waiting for idiots as witless as you," the Red Wizard spat in venomous indignation, sneering when Aerie twisted about to glare at him hatefully. Nalia gaped at him.
"I think you chose the wrong group of adventurers to label in such a manner, Nalia of De'Arnise," Yoshimo commented mildly from the treeline beside the gathering. The young woman's brow furrowed.
"Yes…perhaps some introductions are in order," Elatharia found herself grinning at the sheer expansiveness of Edwin's mute fury, nudging him with her elbow and gaining no response, "I can't speak for myself, since I am but a humble child of mighty, world-famous Candlekeep, but I know that several amongst this group are anything but 'disadvantaged' and those who may have once been would probably take issue with that word," she gestured to her left, where Valygar and Anomen were just joining them, "There are two sons of Amnish nobility – Valygar of the House Corthala, landowners of Imnesvale, and Anomen of House Delryn, an old name in Athkatla," she was in fact guessing regarding those elaborations but since no one stopped her, she continued, gesturing to the currently undisguised drow, "Our resident priestess is in fact Viconia DeVir, the eldest daughter of House DeVir – which was once the fourth house in Menzoberranzan, capital of the drow," she paused while the drow lowered her hood, smiling more widely as Nalia recoiled a little at the sight of a dark elf, her hand moving to the small dagger at her hip, "And of course, here beside me stands Edwin Odesseiron, a Red Wizard of Thay and heir to Surthay, the largest Tharch in Thay."
Elatharia did have a vague memory that Surthay was also the poorest of all the tharches in Thay and possibly not the largest, but she had a point to prove.
"Well," Nalia floundered a moment, eyeing Viconia uncomfortably before turning a hopeful but now tremulous smile on Elatharia, "I didn't expect to meet a group of adventurers who were half respectable. At least Mother won't be too angry that I let you into the house…once I've…we've…rescued her. And the rest of you – even if you've never seen such a noble house before, don't worry. I'll make sure you're right at home just after we've slain all of the trolls! If you're still happy to help I'll show you the best way now. It's not far from the camp I've set up with some of our house guards. They'll be waiting outside the gates to help us once we can get to the wheel to lower the drawbridge and let them in."
When Elatharia nodded in grudging acceptance, Nalia smiled more broadly and turned about, heading back through the trees at a swift speed that was difficult to follow with the thick undergrowth covering an array of uneven stones and tangled roots.
"I fear I may never be at home in such a grand place," Haer'Dalis chuckled behind the Transmuter, his mischievous tone evident in spite of his quiet words, "For I was born a poor, wretched slave's son and may never understand the wonder and beauties of such a privileged world!"
"I hope your acting is better than that on the stage, tiefling," Viconia told him dryly, pausing as Edwin stumbled on a root, no doubt taking the moment to enjoy the Red Wizard's increasing struggle to keep any semblance of grace in such cramped and uneven conditions, "And besides, any slave who has fought in and endured the Blood Wars is infinitely more admirable than a weak, coddled, childish surfacer female who does not understand the true rights of her gender and misuses her station so ridiculously."
Hearing the bard laugh more loudly, Elatharia rolled her eyes even as she ducked under a branch and narrowly avoided becoming a helpless victim of Anomen's stumbling. Haer'Dalis had evidently set up that conversation to hear such a response from the drow.
"You…you shouldn't have been so unkind to Nalia, Elatharia," Aerie admonished from her side, hopping lightly over a rock and sending a deep and highly ineffective frown the Transmuter's way, "Sh-she can't learn the reality of the world if people like you push her back all the time."
"People like me? You sound just like her," Elatharia told the avariel coolly.
"The Lady Aerie is correct, Elatharia," Anomen put in now, huffing through his words but achieving some semblance of coherence nonetheless, "You spoke in such a manner, and pointed out Viconia's heritage, wholly intending to frighten her. If you were not so distracted by the struggle to regain your sister, I might sincerely insist that you change your ways."
"Oh, and anything you say should be taken as law, fool," Edwin put in from a few steps behind them, easing his way around a tree and glaring at its low-hanging branches, "Such a silly girl should be taught respect of her betters."
"You are not her 'better'…" Aerie started to snap back, but thought better of it lest she fall on the complicated set of roots ahead of her.
"I just told her the truth," Elatharia disagreed, glaring at the back of Anomen's head.
They progressed through the trees in silence as the hill's incline became more apparent and their journey in turn became more difficult. When at last they emerged from the trees all of them were gasping, pausing to catch their breath. Ahead stood a few makeshift twigs-and-leaves hideouts dug into the ground a short distance from the mote leading to the castle walls. Several armed and armoured men waited nearby, greeting Nalia with evident relief and sparing a few curt nods for the adventurers who would be doing their dirty work.
"You should have told us that you had gone to get them, my lady," the leader told Nalia gently. A tall man whose armour shone in the sun like a beacon for the enemies in the castle, he eyed each of the group critically as they emerged from the forest.
"But when the scouts said they'd seen people approaching I just had to go and get them before they went the wrong way! And look, they're armed like real adventurers." She smiled tentatively – and perhaps still a little condescendingly, at the group as they formed up in front of the guard captain.
When Viconia stepped out last, the De'Arnise guards let up shouts of alarm, a few lowering their halberds in readiness for attack. Their captain looked down in disbelief at Nalia, who shrugged slightly nervously.
"You would bring a drow here?"
"She didn't attack me, and she's travelling with a group I've heard of," Nalia offered before straightening up and remembering to take a more serious tone, "And besides – don't we need all the help we can get? I'll go with them and make sure they don't rob anything. Alright?"
"Not a drow!" someone warned amongst the guards, and more halberds lowered.
Viconia took a cautious step back, ready to flee. Haer'Dalis moved in front of her, hands on his sword hilts and eyebrows raised in challenge. Seeing this, the drow stared at him in surprise – and she seemed perhaps a little pleased by his defensiveness, too, though she would never admit it.
"Yes, we are taking 'a drow' with us," Elatharia promised icily, "Unless you'd rather your master and mistress starve in there? Because…as far as I'm concerned it's just as easy to blow you all to pieces with a few cantrips and 'rob' your castle before setting it to the torch, too," she called up an Illusion that Jan had recently taught her, giving the impression that flames danced in her open palms. The men started to back off and Edwin started to smile wolfishly, "So say yes to Viconia, or no to your lives."
"Stop it, all of you!" Nalia interrupted, stepping between Elatharia and the guard captain; she held his gaze until he called his men off, "We'll lower the gates when we're ready for you," she promised him before waving him away. He went, unwillingly.
"Shall we go?" Elatharia asked, banishing the Illusion playing in her hands as Nalia turned to her, the others of her group relaxing a little.
"Yes," the young woman agreed, her red braids bouncing as she nodded, "I'm glad to hear that you're thinking of doing this quickly after so long."
Elatharia could understand why Nalia's guards had chosen to call for help in infiltrating their stolen castle once the De'Arnise girl showed the group her secret way back in. Aided by an Invisibility spell of Aerie's, they had made their way to the back of the castle – with Yoshimo, Haer'Dalis, Anomen and Valygar carrying a worryingly makeshift raft which the guards had grudgingly relinquished. Their invisibility had worn off by the time they reached the dark, reeking water and crossed its still depths.
For a moment Elatharia had believed they would be entering the drain a few feet up at the opposite side, but Nalia had reassured them that it was too well warded by her father's spells to be breached and would be too obvious a choice, besides. So instead Nalia had explained that they would be scaling the side of the wall and creeping their way through the orange trees clustered beyond. This posed a significant problem since only four of their group had the bodily strength to haul themselves up the slippery rocks on that side of the mote – and Anomen, much like the guards of the Hold, was much too heavily armoured to achieve such a climb with any level of grace or subtlety. The job was left to Valygar, Yoshimo and Haer'Dalis (an unwilling companionship at the best of times) and, armed with one of Nalia's keys, they scampered up the rock face with promises to come back with a rope from the storeroom by the nearby stables.
The rest of them waited quietly, Aerie eyeing the dark mote with distrust and Edwin glaring at Anomen's corner of the raft, which was dipping low into the water under the weight of the priest's armour. Viconia was shifting uncomfortably and staring up at the rocks beside them as if particularly determined to be back on solid ground. For her part, Elatharia watched Nalia. The only daughter of Lord De'Arnise could not have been much younger than the Transmuter, probably about nineteen like Imoen. She seemed less worried and more hopeful, a light in her dark eyes, a smile upon her freckled face. She still wore those borrowed men's clothes – no doubt since her own ladylike garb would hardly be suited to scaling walls and climbing through broken windows. Come to think of it, neither would Elatharia's Robe of Vecna.
"Jaheira told me that you were being besieged by the trolls," the Transmuter prompted, narrowing her eyes when Nalia just nodded, still looking up at the edge over which Yoshimo and Haer'Dalis had disappeared, "I assume that they have somehow broken inside and walled themselves in just like you were before them."
"Yes," the young noblewoman agreed, sparing a brief glance towards Elatharia, her eyes wandering over each of the others on the raft. She offered no further answer.
"What I believe our leader is suggesting is that you, empty-minded child that you are, have failed to tell us any details of this siege," Viconia pointed out haughtily when Nalia caught her eye.
"And perhaps more intelligently put: what kind of trolls would leave their presumably distant marshy homeland to besiege and then invade your pathetic keep?" Edwin interrupted irritably now from where he sat at the very centre of the raft with one foot tucked beneath him and his other knee drawn up to his chest. His hands were clasped in front of this leg and he was swaying a little more unsteadily than he would have preferred with the slight rock of the craft.
"Pathetic keep? I don't think so. Just because she claims that you are a Red Wizard – and I don't see much to prove it – doesn't mean that I'll agree to your poorly aimed insults," Nalia told him with unexpected nerve, eyes flashing with resolve, "My family has been in this part of Amn for centuries. We are well respected," she looked to Elatharia and Aerie now, ignoring Edwin's rising anger, "Which is why I've been trying so hard to use our wealth and influence to help your kind."
Viconia spluttered at this response even as Elatharia leaned back in renewed disbelief. Aerie put a small, gentle hand on the Transmuter's arm and sent a patient smile Nalia's way. Edwin's anger somewhat deflated to see Elatharia once more offended by the young woman's lack of tact and his swelling annoyance turned into an entirely unsympathetic smile.
"Tell me why they attacked your home, Nalia De'Arnise," Elatharia gritted out. It was tempting to push the girl into the water while she perched so unconcernedly on the edge like that.
"I don't think my father would…"
"It would be only courteous to tell us what has caused this problem, my lady," Anomen suggested softly from the other end of the raft, "After all, there may be important tactical considerations to make given the information you permit us."
"Oh, well, I suppose that makes sense," Nalia nodded, blushing a little under his intensely genuine stare, "Why didn't you just say that to start with? Trolls aren't as stupid as the children's stories suggest – and they don't live as far away as you were suggesting," she spared a frown for Edwin, who just scoffed, "They've been mobilising under a particularly old leader who my father had a confrontation with on the borders of our lands several decades ago. He used to fight them with a…special weapon, the Flail of the Ages, that has been in our family for generations. The trolls have waited, and been clever, and come at us when we least expected it. Unprepared, we couldn't do much. They besieged the castle and I escaped with some guards to get help in Athkatla. That's where I met Jaheira and she promised to help. You only came once they've broken in; my mother is barricaded in her room and…and my father is being help captive. They really want that flail. Like I said, trolls aren't as stupid as people think."
"Perhaps you should take from the rich and give to the trolls as well?" Viconia suggested dryly, earning a confused and persistently distrustful look from Nalia.
'Can you use a flail?' Elatharia asked Viconia in their shared Drow Sign Language.
'Yes, of course. I was trained in Menzoberranzan, khal'abbil.'
'We're keeping it.'
Sitting between them, Edwin watched them with faint amusement, one eyebrow raising as he took a moment to work out what had been said. He narrowed his eyes at Elatharia thoughtfully and she raised her eyebrows at him challengingly. Trust a Red Wizard to disapprove of stealing from nobility, however 'pathetic'.
"Oh look, they've come back with the rope!" Aerie cried.
"Indeed, my Mourning Dove," Haer'Dalis grinned down at them over the edge at the sound of the avariel's voice, his blue hair handing around his face as he leaned over and dropped the rope down for them, "And we have even helpfully knotted it for your convenience. Come, my flock. And take care not to scratch your armour on the rock, my Peacock."
Anomen just rolled his eyes at the jibe.
Castles were always the same. Whether you were in the Nine Hells, or the Abyss, or Sigil, or the Prime Material Plane. Castles were made of strong, unsightly material, layered and thick to hold off siege engines. They featured some kind of mote, a drawbridge, a main bailey, often a motte, and many towers. Spiral staircases were favourites, though they twisted the other way in the Abyss and the Hells. If you wanted to be a Planewalker, or in fact had no choice about being one, and if you were going to be besieging castles in all of the above places, then you would need to be ambidextrous. And fast. That was something for which Haer'Dalis felt almost thankful to the Blood Wars.
The De'Arnise Hold was a textbook example of a defensible castle. Up on a hill. Horrible, festering mote which was deeper than expected, with its floor spiked with poison-tipped spikes. A drawbridge that was currently pulled up. High, thick outer walls of ugly grey stone perched on the very edge of a steep-sided motte. Arrow slots dotted the walls at several levels, and the crenulations gave only a hint of the gigantic crossbows aimed at the surrounding lands.
But somehow those trolls had got inside and strewn the orange tree orchard with dead guards and servants. Their blood had clogged the fertile Amnish soil and rendered it poisonous. The orange trees were dying. The stables beyond the orchard had been broken up poorly, the horses within slain, half-eaten and left to fester like their human masters. Yoshimo, serpentine Namer of their little Faction that he was, had been silent at Haer'Dalis's side as they stepped through all of this devastation. As had Valygar, but his silences were altogether more solemn, and less empty.
They had found the broken window Nalia had described with relative ease. Yoshimo had slipped inside to head through room ahead while Haer'Dalis and Valygar waited and watched their surroundings. All was still and silent, barely a breath of wind to rustle the darkening leaves of the orange trees, only the faint trill of birds in the distance. No hint of trolls, except for the stench.
With the help of the rope, Yoshimo had uncovered the others had pulled themselves up. Aerie had blushed so endearingly when Haer'Dalis had hoisted her up the last little way to set her on her feet. It had been worth it just to earn Viconia's glare as she followed, not to mention the decidedly interesting way in which Aerie's body had fitted against his as he righted her on the ground.
Edwin and Elatharia had ascended next, both imbued with Strength spells. That had left Anomen to wave Nalia chivalrously up before him, staring down at his hands until she had been helped to her feet by Valygar. It had been entertaining to watched the Peacock of a would-be paladin brace himself against the rock face and walk his heavily armoured-bulk vertically upwards.
Aerie was adorably horrified by the carnage they had to pass to get to the door which Yoshimo had unlatched from the inside, pressing one hand to her mouth and wrapping her free arm around Anomen's. The priest had at least had the grace to look flattered. He had also glanced towards Haer'Dalis as if he had expected the tiefling to be offended in some way, and had then seemed offended by the tiefling's smile. But…this Sparrow just did not, and would not, feel as several of his counterparts did about the scene of carnage the trolls had made out of Nalia's servants and guards. There would always be new Deaders to enter into the Dead-Book.
The young woman, Aerie, Anomen, Valygar…all of them looked upon slaughter as horror, to be avenged or righted. Edwin picked through the blood-soaked earth with a curled lip and his sleeve covering his mouth and nose, as if offended. Such actions from those who wanted to seem invincible often belied a weaker stomach than they would have the world believe, in Haer'Dalis's experience. As for Elatharia and Yoshimo, both moved past this bloodied grove and through the open door next to the stables with only a brief glance. The Transmuter's mask hid some of her face…but it seemed that in this case she had nothing to hide. Meanwhile, Viconia attempted to hang back, to watch this horror alone and unseen by the others. For someone who, like Elatharia and Edwin, had certainly seen horror and very likely doled it out herself, the Blackbird did not endure it so callously, or selfishly. Her eyes lingered on the dead. Those shapely lips pressed together stoically. Her fists clenched.
As a Doomguard, Haer'Dalis's philosophy on these matters was simple. Death is inevitable. Perhaps pain is regrettable, but often that is inevitable, too. Time passes by, and as it goes so goes entropy, impossible to lessen, affecting every life unerringly. The only end is oblivion, and that is as inevitable as our lives are unalterable. It would hurt one so caring as Aerie to know that scenes such as that in the grove only made him feel…relieved.
Then there was the castle; predictably ugly on the inside, its storeroom through the door untidy and almost overflowing. There were a few blood splatters on the shattered doorway ahead. Passing down the corridor with the broken window, the entrance which Yoshimo had used to find the rope earlier, they came upon a locked door. For this Nalia had no key and shushed the group surprisingly wisely to silence. As soon as she had achieved this, they heard the scuffling, and the guttural muttering.
"It's the servants' door to the great dining hall," Nalia explained, her blue eyes wide and round as she looked back at the group of adventurers, "It sounds like there are a lot of them in there. And Mystra knows what they're eating in there."
"We'll save your parents," Aerie promised gently, squeezing the young woman's arm and nodding reassuringly.
"Alright. Thank you," she smiled a little shakily, her eyes crinkling all the same, and gave a determined nod, "I'll just pick this lock…"
Haer'Dalis noted Elatharia's expression change as Nalia set to work, pulling free a lockpick and unlocking the door in three fast, nimble movements. It was hard to tell, but it looked like the Transmuter's face showed less evidence of disdain. Maybe a little sadness. All the same, when Nalia reached for the handle, Elatharia shrugged into a fiery spell, the flames rising from her palms and flickering up to her elbows in readiness to face whatever waited beyond. Edwin did the same.
It was just as well that they had those two spellslingers with them for this fight because the scene that Nalia revealed to them was one of utter chaos. The dining hall was teeming with trolls. Several of the twisted, gangly humanoids were feasting happily upon the other-than-fresh corpses of several guards which they had lain out upon the long central tables. One particularly vast greyish brute was repeatedly shouldering a crack in the wall up on the outer walkway around the tables. A torn tapestry glinting with pearls and sapphires lay at his bare feet.
All of the trolls turned to look as the previously locked door swung open slowly, spluttering to each other past the blood and flesh smeared on their gnarled faces. Seeing the flames the spellslingers wore, several shrieked and cowered behind the tables, others who were braver ran forwards waving clubs or looking for a projectile weapon. Unfortunately for them, Elatharia and Edwin were well versed in battling against terribly uneven odds. Unfortunately for Haer'Dalis's entertainment, the first flow of the Red Wizard's firepower created a gust of wind around him ferocious enough to slam the door shut behind them. The rest of the group stood still, gaping, and listened to the screams of the trolls beyond as the door rattled on hinges which came to glow white-hot.
"It is a shame that they must be so showy about these things," Viconia sighed, leaning against the wall by Haer'Dalis and inspecting a dust stain on the hem of her yellow cloak. Her eyes, deep blue and thoughtful, raised to meet his from beneath long, curling white lashes. At the sight of him smiling, she raised an eyebrow and pursed lips that he remembered well.
"My Blackbird your words are words of jealousy," he teased quietly, "I have heard from you that you are well capable of creating your own fierce chaos when necessary."
Her expression dropped for a moment, her mouth opening as if to speak. But her words caught in her throat and she looked away instead, to where the others were paying them no heed, all watching the door. The drow started when Haer'Dalis's hand slid over hers. She frowned momentarily, as if considering a biting comment, looking to his lips distrustfully as if wondering whether he wanted something from her. But when his stillness proved that he did not, she just watched his eyes with confusion and took in a deep breath, letting him raise her hand to his lips.
When the screams and the roar of fire died down, Nalia pulled open the door and at once the group jumped to attention, fully prepared to find two dead spellslingers and a horde of trolls. Instead they saw a dozen or more smouldering trolls and fires just dying down along the remains of the three long tables. The troll who had been shouldering the wall was shuddering, one arm blackened, swaying dazedly by his previous place of toil. Edwin seemed unruffled and utterly unaware of the ash smeared on his face, gesturing imperiously for the stunned group to enter, sparing a particularly hateful sneer for Valygar when the ranger surveyed the scene of magical carnage darkly.
Meanwhile Elatharia, the Factol of this Faction, was leaning over the railing of the walkway across the room, just next to the swaying troll. She was breathing hard, smiling broadly as if she had been laughing. As the others approached up the stairs and along the walkway towards her and the troll, her eyes flashed in the firelight. For just a moment they glowed with golden flame.
"Are you alright?" Aerie demanded of Elatharia, but the Transmuter waved her words away.
"What were you doing?" Elatharia demanded of her enchanted troll. He swayed for a moment, a state of confused compliance that Haer'Dalis recalled all too well from his own captivity.
"The Flail of the Ages," the monster burbled eventually, "Master has directions. He gave instructions. Break down the hidden door, bring back the dread-weapon."
"So he doesn't have what he wants yet?"
"No, but he know where it is. He will have it," the troll agreed.
"Oh no! No! That means my father has…has told them after all. We have to save him now!" Nalia exclaimed, hands flapping and expression twisted into a look of horror.
"We will, my lady!" Anomen agreed. Elatharia sighed.
"Where is he keeping the lord of the castle?"
"In his new lair. The vaults of this hold," the troll told her immediately, rubbing at his head as if it hurt.
"Fine. Now break that door down. Or I won't be merciful."
The troll jumped to his task as soon as he saw the flames rising from the Transmuter's palm. Seeing the – no doubt human – blood around his mouth, not even Anomen complained about this insistence upon the painful task. Aerie, however, looked on with a sad frown.
Elatharia had never had an interest in weaponry. There were days when she did not carry a knife in easy reach – something for which Jaheira, Imoen and Viconia had all berated her. But all the same, she could recognise that the Flail of the Ages was a cruel and beautiful thing.
Once the troll Elatharia had controlled had broken through the hidden door, revealing the vault beyond with the flail enshrined at the centre, Nalia had only reluctantly agreed to use her personal key to relinquish the weapon. The sight of the gold within was promising as well, but with so many trolls roaming the castle it seemed unwise to loot the place just then.
"Are you really planning on using it?" Nalia asked nervously, her voice ringing in the small stone chamber as she handed the weapon over to Elatharia, "Careful! Avoid the heads," she added as the ornate handle passed between them.
Polished red wood inlaid with plaited gold, the handle alone ought to have been much heavier than it felt. Elatharia was not known for her strength, but she could have swung it easily in one hand – had she possessed any skill. Nor did she need any warning about the three heads hanging from the chain. At a glance, the ebony cylinders might have seemed quite harmless to an unobservant eye, but for the tiny rivets radiating around them. One head pulsed white hot, the other's polished black surface was covered in clusters of icicles…and the third shimmered with some liquid covering that hissed ominously in the open air.
"Of course she is planning on using it," Edwin sneered from where he and Viconia were peering down the steps through the open vault doors. Behind them the others were keeping watch – or, in Aerie and Anomen's case, looking for survivors.
"But…is that really wise?" Nalia dropped her hands uselessly at her sides as Elatharia turned away, heading up the steps and passing the flail to Viconia. A frown appeared on the young woman's face when the drow smiled slowly and gave the weapon an experimental swing that seemed altogether more adept than Nalia had likely expected.
"If they want this weapon so badly then they will fear it," Viconia promised.
A commotion from the main hall put an abrupt end to their conversation and at the shrill, angry sound of a woman's voice Nalia tore past Elatharia, between Viconia and Edwin, and down the short passageway out of the vault back to where the others were waiting.
"Mother?" she called as she vanished from sight.
"Never a good sign," Viconia muttered, rolling her eyes and turning away to follow the girl with some reluctance.
Edwin remained, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded, watching Elatharia from the top of the stairs. In Nalia's rather inexpertly conjured light it was hard to gauge much from his expression but the Transmuter knew better than to let him keep the high ground – he was tall enough as it was. So with one last longing glance at the gold and gems locked away in the room, she ascended the steps and made to move past him back to the main hall.
"Still not happy about stealing from the rich, Edwin?"
He levelled her with a resigned expression, as if her thoughts on the matter were just too simple and she would never truly understand the depth of his enlightenment. She chose not to tell him about the ash smeared on his cheek, or the peculiar way in which a section of his hair had been ruffled by the force of their earlier spellcasting.
"No, shockingly enough. That girl stands to inherit a mighty artefact which she cannot possibly be worthy of, since she has the expectations and duties of her station in order to act and dress like a commoner."
Edwin shifted to watch Elatharia as she moved past him into the short corridor, increasingly curious about the loud voices echoing in the hall beyond. He ducked his head a little towards her as she passed, lowering his voice but not hiding his smug tone.
"I was more interested in our magical achievement earlier."
Elatharia paused at that, blinking at the blank wall ahead where the passage turned. Their power had surged together much as it had against Mae'Var – and she had felt the call of Bhaal, the scratching of the bone daggers beneath her skin, the golden light behind her eyes, the thrill of power and of death. She had reached inside and let it forth as before, but when all was done and the trolls were dead she had forced back her control, shaking and gasping with the effort, and stumbled away from Edwin and the hunger she feared was in his eyes.
"You almost seem as powerful as me when you face your Essence," the Conjurer continued, in a mildly self-mocking tone that Elatharia assumed was supposed to be an award she had earned with her display, "And I would even suggest that the power is growing. Why might that be?"
"Something for after we've rid this place of monsters," she told him.
Not looking back at the Red Wizard and heading down the short passage. He muttered something most likely mutinous in Mulhorandi and followed. Thinking back on his words, and the rather intense magical force Edwin had created earlier, Elatharia paused at the door, reaching for the handle.
"Don't think I haven't noticed your own 'displays'," she promised softly, "That's a lot of fire magic for one wizard to keep memorised that you wielded today. Even more so against Firkraag." She glanced back at the Conjurer to see him drawing himself up, a deep frown attempting to disguise the flicker of something a lot more vulnerable.
"I am a Red Wizard. I have specialised in my school and the magical arts to an extent that you, non-Mulan that you are, will never be able to comprehend or enjoy. Of course I am easily capable of wielding much more magic than you in a day!" He spoke firmly, but woodenly. Elatharia smiled.
"I know it's more than that, Edwin," she promised him and turned back to open the door before he could respond.
Lady De'Arnise had, in fact, proved more unlikable to Elatharia than a horde of trolls. Found barricaded in her room with just one guard by Aerie and Anomen, she had proven difficult, self-obsessed, and more aggressively prejudiced than her daughter. Gushing and polite to Anomen and Valygar, vehemently abusive to Nalia, disgusted by Aerie and Yoshimo, she had screamed and fainted at the sight of Viconia and refused quite flatly to be revived for over a minute. She had even seemed impervious to Nalia's imploring requests for her guard to take her outside and over to the camp so that they could look for Lord De'Arnise sooner. When she did finally get back up, she had been more interested in the mess the trolls had made in dying than she was in her own daughter's voice. It had taken Anomen's kind tone and knightly form to persuade her that leaving the castle immediately would be the best option.
After that, Elatharia had sent Yoshimo out to the main bailey, armed with an Invisibility potion and a Haste spell, so that he could bring down the draw bridge and let in the house guards while the rest of the group headed straight for the basement. On that path they had soon learned to what extent the castle was swarming with trolls. On more than one occasion they found themselves ambushed in both directions halfway down a narrow back corridor that ought have been secret. Edwin took a nasty bite wound to the hand that Viconia did not have time to heal fully – and the Flail of the Ages proved its worth. In the hands of the drow priestess it was wielded to create perfect destruction. Such hold ups eventually gave Yoshimo time to catch up with them and promise that the drawbride had been lowered.
Keeping to the servants' corridors as much as possible to try to avoid an all-out war against the trolls of the castle, the group crept through the newly reeking and torn up castle decorations until they reached the basement. Herein the smell was even worse, the bodies of former captive guards littering the floor of its atrium. Beyond the next door came the snarling voices of trolls – one of which sounded particularly annoyed and possible quite impatient. A quick round of protective spells, along with some of Elatharia's favourite Transmutations, and they moved quickly through the doors ahead.
Lord De'Arnise lay at the feet of a huge two-headed troll, who was kicking irritably at the body as if not yet realising no more answers would be forthcoming. The monster looked up in mild surprise at the sight of the adventuring group, even as Nalia screamed in grief-filled rage, hurling every spell she knew at the troll leader with his guards dragging themselves to his aid.
Thanks to the element of surprise the fight was over quickly. The troll leader was no Firkraag. Though he had allies, these were quickly engaged by Viconia – whose new Flail of the Ages was invaluable against such foes – and by Anomen, backed up by Aerie. Haer'Dalis followed the drow's lead, singing a merry song which somehow had a more impressive boost on morale than expected. Yoshimo drew his katana and waited at the door in case any more enemies arrived, or to hail backup. Valygar dodged past Nalia's spells to reach the chief of the trolls, the Corthala Blade singing through the air as he swung, while Elatharia and Edwin both brought up Fireshields before looking to their foes. The Transmuter concentrated on helping her allies; Paralysis, Slow and the Magic Missile poured from her to give Viconia and the others an advantage. Edwin preferred more showy displays, and he and Nalia rained so much fire down upon the troll leader that it was a miracle Valygar was not caught in the crossfire.
When the glare of magical excess died down, the fighters in the group panting with exertion, the chief of the trolls lays dead along with his guards. Anomen was holding his side and Aerie was just moving to heal him; Valygar had a cut to the head that Viconia was grudgingly dealing with. And not far away from those recovering combatants, slumped before the statue of his god in this vault which had once been a chapel to Lathander, was the body of Lord De'Arnise.
And with the clamour of battle dying down in the halls above while the De'Arnise guards overcame the trolls that remained, Nalia fell to her knees by her father's body and wept.
Author's note:
Haer'Dalis got to have a say, and to use some Sigil slang! Although not too much, because to my UK sensibilities it would make him sound like a London gangster, and that's not how I imagine Haer'Dalis. But here's a glossary for the words that might not have been obvious:
Factol: leader of a faction (he's ironically likening their party to one of the many factions of Sigil)
Namer: a rather non-dedicated member of a faction
Deader: someone who is dead, and thus named in the Dead-Book
Spellslinger: wizard