Progress
Saunder and Imoen walked through the tunnels of the Naskel mines in a half-crouch, Saunder leading the way and holding a torch with his shield arm, the dim light from it glinted off the plate mail armor he had purchased with Bassilus' bounty.
"I think we've gone too far," Imoen said, "we should go back and find Branwen and Kivan."
"Hold on," Saunder said, "there's a light up ahead."
The height of the tunnel ceiling began to rise until the two adventurers were able to stand up straight. Saunder hefted his war hammer as the tunnel turned. Having expected to find more kobolds, Saunder was surprised when the tunnel opened up into a room with a replete with cushions, a coal brazier lit the chamber. A burly half-orc lazed on the cushions, a heavy flail and buckler lying beside him. The monstrous creature stirred as Saunder and Imoen entered the room, wary of any traps the half-orc might have lain.
"How did you get in here?" The words were half said and half grunted by the half-orc as it stood. "Did the half-ogre send you? All iron leaving this place is tainted and still Mulahey is to be killed!"
"So you're the one who's been causing all the trouble here," Saunder accused, brandishing the war hammer Ashideena.
"You didn't know I rule this place?" Mulahey grunted, "then you cannot be with him."
Saunder heard the yipping of kobolds echoing through the tunnels, and then the sounds of battle, Brawen's battle cry rose above the clamor.
"You're not alone . . ." Mulahey said and then snatched up his flail and buckler, "It matters not, you die here!"
Mulahey dashed forward with astonishing speed and swung his flail. Saunder attempted to block the flail with his shield but misjudged the flail's arc and the spiked ball smashed his shoulder. Saunder could only feel a dull, throbbing pain from his shoulder while he could feel nothing from the rest of his arm, which hung uselessly.
Saunder clenched his teeth and backed up as Mulahey swung down heavily with his flail. The spiked ball fell onto the ground at Saunder's feet and the paladin swung his hammer at Mulahey while the half-orc was recovering from his swing. Ashideena's spike dug into Mulahey's side but the half-orc betrayed no sign of pain and swung even more savagely than before.
Although Saunder managed to parry the flail, the force of the blow caused him to stagger. Taking full advantage of his opponent's discomfiture, the half-orc ruthlessly brought his flail down upon Saunder.
Saunder's desperate parry kept the spiked ball of Mulahey's flail from crushing his skull, but his hammer's shaft became entangled in the flail's chain. The paladin struggled to free his weapon as the half-orc laughed. Mulahey let out a cry of pain and surprise when Imoen stabbed him from behind, then hurriedly wrenched his flail away from its grapple with Ashideena.
Saunder, seeing his opportunity, swung Ashideena with as much force as he could muster. The hammer's head struck Mulahey's chest and an electric discharge shook the half-orc's body. Before Saunder could pull his hammer back for another attack, Mulahey struck him with the flail. Saunder splat blood and fell backwards as his vision reeled.
Mulahey whirled on Imoen and the girl drove her short sword into the half-orc's gut up to the hilt. Imoen wasn't sure exactly what happened in the next moment. But when her vision returned she found herself slumped against a wall, feeling as if thousands of needles were piercing her lungs with every breath.
"Go!" shouted Kivan as he stunned one kobold by slamming the blunt end of his spear into its face and then impaled another with the weapon's more dangerous end.
Branwen wasted no time for words and ran from the chamber she and Kivan had been clearing. The warrior-priestess was loath to leave Kivan to fight so many enemies, even though she knew he had faced more dangerous opponents in greater numbers before.
Saunder and Imoen, she knew, had not. The strangled cries she and Kivan had heard were testament to that. Branwen entered Mulahey's chamber to see the massive spiked ball of the half-orc's flail slam into Imoen's gut and send her against the wall.
With a yell, the warrior-priestess brandished her mace and charged at the half-orc. Mulahey turned to see her approach and laughed as he brought his flail down upon her. Branwen shunted the blow aside with her heater shield and put all of her strength behind a swing of her mace.
The half-orc blocked with his shield, but the shoddy buckler was rent apart when its boss gave way to Branwen's mace. While Mulahey recovered, Branwen landed a savage blow upon his chest.
Branwen expected the half-orc to fall. Instead, Mulahey looked down on Branwen with renewed anger and, with speed that surprised Branwen, stepped forward and clutched Branwen by the throat. Mulahey chuckled as he stared into the warrior-priest's fear-filled eyes and began to squeeze.
Branwen was struggling to stay conscious when she realized she had dropped her mace but saw a sword imbedded in Mulahey's chest. This time Branwen surprised Mulahey by grabbing the sword's hilt and violently twisting the weapon.
Mulahey let out an agonized cry as he dropped Branwen, who, thankful that she could still breathe, fell coughing onto her knees. Mulahey tore the sword out of himself and threw it aside, then he stepped forward, brandishing his flail, and prepared to rend apart Branwen's skull.
An arrow struck Mulahey in the chest and stunned him long enough for Branwen to seize her mace and strike the half-orc's kneecap. Howling in pain, the Mulahey collapsed to the ground and Branwen swiftly flattened Mulahey's head with no less than three solid hits. Wearily, she dropped the mace and tried to recover her breath.
Branwen barely heard Kivan's approach.
"You fight well priestess," Kivan said. Branwen looked up to see the ranger offering his hand, she took it and staggered to her feet.
The priestess looked at the two young adventurers. Imoen was certainly the worst off so Branwen made her way to her first. She was relieved to hear the girl still breathing, if the ragged gasps she drew in could be called breath.
There was little visible damage but Branwen knew that weapons such as flails were intended to bash and crush, not tear or cut. Most of the damage would be inside, making the healing more difficult but not impossible
"How can I help?" Kivan asked.
"Take these," Branwen said, handing Kivan a few healing potions, "give them to Saunder but don't give him so much that he chokes." Kivan nodded his understanding and attended to the task with the brevity that characterized him.
Saunder awoke with a start and saw with relief that he was no longer in the cavern with the maddened half-orc. Instead he woke on a modest bed in a well-lit room. An autumnal breeze drifted in from open windows and Saunder allowed himself to fall back onto the bed.
Dimly, he remembered the half-orc's flail that had shattered his breastbone with enough force to send him against the cavern wall. The dull memory of pain still resided in the back of his head where it had struck the wall. The paladin's chest and left arm ached but such aches were certainly preferable to keeping the wounds he knew he had sustained.
It was some time before Saunder pulled himself out of bed and walked to the window. There he recognized the streets of Nashkel. Saunder saw his weapons and armor piled into a corner of the room. The plate mail he had recently purchased from Taerom Fuiruim was dented but repairable. The door opened and the lack of audible footsteps told Saunder that Kivan had entered the room.
"Hello friend," said Saunder as he turned to face the ranger. Kivan's spear and bow were slung across his back and the elf still wore his boiled leather jerkin and mail bracers. "Is everyone else all right?"
"No," Kivan said, matter of factly, "Imoen was wounded worse than you were but is recovering. Branwen believes that she may need another day or so before she is well enough to travel again."
"Was Branwen hurt during the fight?"
"Only slightly, but she recovered quickly. There is something I must tell you," Kivan's voice dropped lower, "I found a few letters in Mulahey's chest stating that Mulahey had a contact in Beregost named Tranzig."
"Tranizg, the one who trapped Branwen in stone?"
"The same, when I made the mistake of showing her the letters it was all I could do to keep her from charging to Beregost and making short work of him. Also, it appears Mulahey was acting on orders from Tazok."
"The same Tazok who sent Karlat. So Mulahey is in league with the bandits."
"Mulahey and his kobolds ensured that no useable iron could leave the Nashkel mines while the bandits ensured that no iron could approach Balder's Gate by the roads."
"Why iron? It doesn't seem like a very profitable commodity for bandits to target."
"It isn't. I suspect there is someone pulling the strings of both Mulahey and the bandits. And whoever that person is, he must be very wealthy."
"You said that Tranzig was in Beregost?" Saunder asked.
"Yes, at Feldepost's Inn," Kivan replied, "though I do not know for how long."
My only lead is in Beregost and may leave at any moment, and Imoen will need days to recover.
"Kivan, I want you and Branwen to go to Beregost and find Tranzig then come back with whatever information you acquire. I'll stay here and watch over Imoen."
"I do not believe this place is safe. Sometime after we brought you to this inn a woman approached me and demanded to see you. I refused and she quickly became more insistent until, at last, she attacked me. I found a scroll on her corpse offering a substantial bounty for you."
"We have to take the risk. Tranzig is too important to let escape."
Kivan nodded, "I am certain Branwen will be eager to get underway. We will return swiftly."
"Before you go, where is Imoen?"
"She is at the Temple of Helm, the priest Nalin is healing her wounds that were beyond Branwen's skill."
The temple of Helm was easily the largest building in Nashkel and Saunder was certain two of the inns could have occupied the space between the floor and the high, oak-ribbed ceiling. Bracketed torches suffused the temple with a soft orange light. An altar stood at the far end of the temple and the sign of Helm, an eye upon a open-palmed gauntlet, was etched into the stone wall behind it.
A man wearing full armor with a mace girt at his side stood by the altar and faced Saunder when he entered the Temple.
"You are the one who lead the party that defeated Mulahey," the man said. The comment surprised Saunder, who had never thought of himself as a leader. "I am Nalin, servant of the Vigilant One, and I understand that you are a man of faith yourself."
"I am a paladin of Tyr," Saunder replied.
"The god of justice. . . you are welcome here. I understand you are here to see your companion. Follow me."
Nalin led Saunder through a door at the back of the temple and down a short hallway, stopping at one of the doors along the hall.
"She is within," Nalin said, "her wounds are healed but she needs time to recover her strength."
"There is something I must tell you Nalin. Imoen and I have been attacked by bounty hunters before–"
"Kivan already warned me of that," Nalin interrupted, "you may stay here for as long as you like. I promise you, this temple is secure." With that the priest turned and walked back to the chapel.
Saunder opened the door. Imoen lay on a bed, breathing deeply; the oil lamp sitting on the night stand illuminated her pale countenance. The room was cramped and windowless. Saunder sat down on the chair across from the bed and waited.
Footsteps. Saunder stirred, shaking his head to doff the weariness as he stood. The door opened, admitting only a little more light than the oil lamp provided. Saunder placed a ready hand on his war hammer then removed it when Nalin stepped through the door.
"Saunder," the priest said, "come, there is someone who wants to see you."
"Who is it?" Saunder asked, suspicious, as he followed the priest into the corridor.
"You need not fear him," Nalin replied.
When Saunder stepped back into the chapel he saw a man armored in plate mail kneeling before the altar; he cradled a helm with his left arm and bore a great sword in a leather baldric across his back. After a moment the man rose and faced Saunder, his eyes shone with intensity.
"You are Saunder, the one who cleansed the Nashkel mines, I am honored to meet you." The armored man stepped forward and extended his hand to Saunder, who shook it warily.
"And you are?"
"I am Ajantis Ilvastarr, knight errant of Helm and squire-paladin of the Order of the Most Radiant Heart. I have come to this region seeking to end the banditry that has plagued it, and in doing so become worthy of full admittance to the Order. I understand that you are a paladin yourself and I offer my services as both companion and mentor. Although we follow different gods, I am certain my knowledge will be of use to you."
Saunder nodded, "I gladly welcome your help Ajantis. Now, allow me to tell you what we've learned."