"Were it anyone else barging into my quarters and disturbing my reverie before the crack of dawn to tell me about a bad dream, they would be suffering from the effects of a very nasty cantrip that inflicts a personal rash I keep handy for such occasions," Sand said dryly as he neatly laid a napkin across his lap. "However, given the nature of the bad dream, and the fact your normally unruffled demeanor has been significantly ruffled enough by the experience for you ruffle others, I can forgive your minor trespass easily enough."
"I'm glad you understand," Casavir replied, equally dry. They sat at a table in the corner of the keep's main dining hall for an earlier than usual breakfast. The elf wizard, who had been slightly more abrasive than normal at being roused so early, grew intensely interested after being given a brief and basic recounting of the dream, and told Casavir to wake the other companions and meet in the dinning hall to discuss it further over the morning meal. Neeshka and Khelgar were approaching the table with their trays. Zhjaeve, Elanee, and Grobnar were still in the mess line waiting to be served. A plate of diced potatoes and sausage links sat in front of the paladin untouched. He was too excited to eat.
Sand's appetite seemed unaffected. He had already started on his plate of fruit and honeyed nuts. Soon, all of the companions were seated with their various plates, each looking at Casavir intently through bleary eyes still semi-saturated with sleep. Sand nodded to him. "Now that we are all present, perhaps you would like to share this unsettling dream in greater detail."
Casavir nodded gravely, and closing his eyes, he began recounting the dream in more detail, his palms sweating as he remembered. The strange assembly of individuals in the cave, the Captain's apparent weakness, the...spider thing that burst from her flesh. As he finished, he looked around the table at the faces assembled, hoping perhaps for a flash of insight or knowledge in one of them, but after several quiet moments, the only expressions were of confusion. Sand's brow furrowed.
"Yes, I can see more why this whole 'vision' of yours was disturbing," the wizard said. He studied the paladin. "Forgive my curiosity, but simply to rule out everything, you didn't happen to eat any disagreeable foods the night before, overindulge a bit in The Phoenix, or drink one of Grobnar's potions by mistake, did you?" Casavir shot him an annoyed look, and Sand held his hands up in placation. "Just thought I'd ask before we go any further." Rubbing his forehead, the elf continued. "So basically, you have had a dream, mostly likely sent by Tyr himself, that gave you a glimpse of our Captain, in most...unusual circumstances. The fact that you even had the dream raises many questions, as divinations by experts in matters arcane and divine alike have only been met with silence."
"I am certain that Tyr's hand was in this," Casavir stated. "If not directly by Him, then some very powerful ally. As a paladin sworn to His service, I know, by everything I am and believe in, that His touch was definitely upon the dream. Of that, I am more certain of than anything."
"Well, your conviction is good enough for me, then," Sand said. "So now all that's left is to figure out what it means. First thing to determine is symbolism, if any exists, and decipher the meaning in it. However, that is something probably better discussed with Father Ivarr, since any symbolism or metaphors of a divine nature might be better understood by him."
"Perhaps, but I do not believe it was such a dream. As the planetar led me through the vision, though she said nothing, somehow, I knew that I was seeing something that was happening at the moment, almost like a scrying. Don't ask me how I know, but I...just know." He closed his eyes again briefly, thinking about the utter certainty that had washed over him as the dream faded.
"If that is the case, then the task becomes one of finding out just where it was you were in the dream, who the colorful mix of individuals are, and exactly what has happened to her, which, given the failure of any divination to find her, will be a very difficult task, one that will involve a lot of pouring through books, contacting experts, and picking through Aldanon's brains for clues." Sand sighed deeply. "The last option being one I relish least but might provide more results."
Neeshka put her knife and fork down. "Is she even still on this plane any more?" she queried. "From the sounds of it, the crowd she was with aren't exactly what you'd find hanging out together in your local tavern. I mean, a big rainbow bear, an angel, a bald wizardess, and a...erm...blue guy...it sound's more like something you might encounter in one of the other planes, like the Astral."
"She does have a point," Elanee agreed as she stirred her bowl of porridge. "You said that there were trees of a type you were unfamiliar with, and there were strange, ethereal animals wandering in the forest. It is no woodland that I am familiar with, or have even heard of."
"There are Outer Planes where such things are commonplace, such as Elysium or the Beastlands," Zhjaeve mused. "Though I doubt, from your description, that she is there. Know that in those planes, evil is a very rare thing, and an evil presence, like the one you stated ripped forth from the Kalach-Cha's flesh, would not last very long in such a place."
"Or she could very well still be here in Faerun, somewhere cold and nasty where big black spiders hide under people's skin and jump out when some poor unsuspecting creature strays too close," Grobnar suggested as he lifted his mug of milk. "Believe me, I've seen far stranger things right here in the Realms. Almost like the one time I was on my way..."
"Bah! Shut yer damned mouth, gnome, before I stuff my whole plate down yer gullet!" Khelgar growled. "It's too damned early in the mornin' for yer nonsense, and my head feels like it's gonna split from all the ale I drank last night."
"Can we please return to the matter at hand?" Sand groaned. "You know, the fact that our Captain is missing and Casavir actually might have our first lead?" Shaking his head, he turned back to Casavir. "So you say she was ill, stumbling through the forest, picked a fight with a ghost creature, then a...thing jumped out of her and devoured it? And then the bear and the others came and found her and carried her back?"
"Yes." Casavir had picked up his fork, but instead of eating, he picked at his food absently. "This thing that was in her, this presence, I felt it emerge even from the distance, and I say to you this: Never in my life have I felt anything like it. I do not know if it could even be called a presence. It felt like a hideous, corrupt void, a nothingness that reached out and desired to draw everything into it. Even the in the depths of my soul, I recoiled from it. The planetar even turned her gaze, both saddened and terrified by it. The pure wrongness of the thing."
"Perhaps we erred and have not destroyed the King of Shadows as completely as we believed," Zhjaeve said quietly, her voice filling with dread. "Perhaps some part of him was embedded within her when he was unmade, much like the shard that was buried in her chest when the Sword of Gith shattered."
Casavir shook his head. "No. I do not believe it has anything to do with him. This thing, whatever it was, felt far more evil, more unnatural, than the King of Shadows, of that I am certain. The corruption and darkness I sensed thickly in the sanctum was nothing compared to what I experienced in the dream."
"More evil than the King of Shadows? That certainly doesn't bode well for the Captain." Sand looked grim. "Tell me more about these others she was with. You said you believed one of them to be a Red Wizard?"
"I believe so. Her head was shaved with strange tattoos, and she wore red robes that looked strange. Though I have never actually seen a Red Wizard in person, I learned of them when I was in training, and the markings and clothing matched what I was told."
"From your description, you are most likely correct, which adds another disturbing angle to this puzzle. Red Wizards are well known for many things, things that I wouldn't wish on a Luskan, let alone our Captain. If she has been abducted by the Red Wizards, then perhaps this thing that has infested her was their doing. Some sort of hideous magical experiment or possession they put into her as part of one of their twisted schemes."
"Why would they do something like that?" Grobnar asked. "As far as we know, she's never had any dealings with them, so what would they want her for? Thay is on the opposite side of Faerun from us, hundreds of leagues away. If they just wanted to grab some poor soul to use as an experimental rabbit, surely there are plenty of easier prospects closer to home."
"Oh, Red Wizards aren't limited to their homeland," Sand explained. "They have many enclaves scattered throughout the realms, supposedly for 'trade' purposes, so they can be found everywhere from the Silver Marches to Kara Tur. Gods only know what they are really up to in such cases, and any city that allows such even a tiny cabal of them to operate within it's walls is only asking for trouble. As to why they would abduct the Captain, it's anyone's guess, really. What passes for reason and logic in their twisted minds is a mystery to every civilized race on Faerun."
"Maybe they did to her what Garius did to me." Casavir looked over at Neeshka, struck by the quiet, yet disturbed tone in her voice. She was staring sullenly at the table. "I mean, she's a tiefling too. Garius said my baetezu blood was useful for things, like the geas. She's of tanari'i extraction, but the lower planes blood is lower planes blood. If these wizards are as bad as you say, maybe that's what they did."
"Ah, now there's a happy thought," Sand muttered. "Though you do have a point, and certainly not out of the realm of possibilities, either. However, as we all know now, you are no ordinary fiendling, and the whole reason Garius was interested in you was the fact your bloodline and breeding were so unusual. The Captain, bless her, might have been special in a lot of ways, but as far as tieflings go, she was quite run of the mill."
"As far as we know." Neeshka didn't sound convinced. "Besides, there's more than one way to cast a geas anyway."
"I understand your concerns, and normally, I would share them." Casavir looked at Sand, then Neeshka. "In this, however, I do not believe the Red Wizard was responsible for whatever happened. She did not seem malevolent, and I sensed no evil from her. Had she been source of the troubles, I am certain Tyr would have made this clear in some way. Yet He did not. Furthermore, we cannot forget the presence of the winged woman, the celestial who was clearly a servant or priestess of Ilmater. I do not believe any disciple of the Crying God would be in the company of anyone who committed acts of evil and cruelty. That in itself also deepens my convictions that the Red Wizard is not a threat, at least, not to the Captain, nor is she directly involved in whatever happened to her."
"A paladin defending the innocence of a Red Wizard? Now I really have heard everything." The mage clasped his hands in front of him. "Very well, your points are valid. So we will assume, for now, the Red Wizard has nothing to do with this, and for whatever reason, an Ilmatari priestess straight from the slopes of Celestia or some similar locale finds the wizardess suitable company. There still remains the other two, one whose description sounds like a genasi or other planetouched, and a bear that looks like it fell in a vat of garish paint. I also noticed you mention nothing about a certain warlock, so his whereabouts remain even more of a mystery here."
"No, Ammon Jerro was not there, nor was there any indication of where he might be. As for the other two, like the wizard and the priestess, I sensed no evil or ill-intent from either. The bear even behaved like a mother bear looking after a cub towards her. The blue man was a spellcaster of some sort. Towards the end of the dream, as they came to collect her, there was a brief moment where I felt as if he were looking directly at me, or through me."
"Interesting. Now you say, as the dream ended, a phrase stuck in your mind even as you woke, words that you felt summed up the dream, yes?"
"A thing that should have never been, an ancient injustice allowed to fester." Even now, the words remained as strong and fresh on Casavir's lips as they had been when he first woke. "Those words came of their own accord, and I believe they were placed upon my tongue by Tyr himself."
"Another piece of an ever growing puzzle." Sand quickly finished his breakfast and stood up. "It seems that we now have something to work with. I will get this information to Startear, Aldanon, and any others who have been engaged in the search. Perhaps now that we have something to go on, our search might prove more fruitful. I trust you have spoken with Father Ivarr about this already?"
"Yes. He wanted to confer with the priests involved in the search first, and asked me to meet with him before noon. I plan on going to the temple after I have washed up and finished my morning prayers."
"Excellent. He could probably give us further insight into things, and perhaps even point us in the right direction. Now if you will excuse me, I have an enigma before me to unravel, and the day isn't getting any younger." Sand turned and strode out of the hall with a noticeable bounce in his step. Whether it was the pleasure of knowing the Captain still lived, or the pleasure of receiving a complex mystery to be solved, Casavir could not say. He thought it might have been a bit of both.
"Hmph. Look at that. Left his damned plate on the table, expecting one of us to take it back to the kitchen," Khelgar muttered. "If the damned elf thinks I'm gonna be his serving wench and clean up after him, he's out of his pointy eared skull."
"He probably forgot, Khelgar," Elanee remarked. "Wizards can sometimes be absent-minded, you know, and Sand has quite a bit on his mind right now. I will return it when I am finished with my meal."
"Pheh. That's exactly what he was hopin' you'd think," the dwarf retorted. "And you're volunteerin'. No moss gatherin' on that elf's skull, for sure." Khelgar gathered his plate and utensils and headed for the kitchen.
"I am going to my grove to confer with the land," Elanee said as took her and Sand's plates onto her tray. "Sharing your vision with nature's creatures might yield insights. Perhaps some of the creatures and spirits of the land might know of this strange forest and creatures you told us about."
"Know that I shall contact my people as well," Zhjaeve added. "The collected knowledge of the Circle of Zerthimon might contain something of value, and our knowing of the Outer Planes could further narrow our search, if that is indeed where the Kalach-Cha walks now."
"I'm going back down to the basement to work on a few ideas," Grobnar mumbled through a mouthful of poached eggs. "I find that if I concentrate too hard on finding something, it remains elusive, but if I leave my mind wander into other areas, answers tend to come charging right at me. Maybe composing a tune or poem about your vision might even jar my memory. All these bits of lore I've collected over there years must contain something we can use." He finished his meal and followed the two women over to the kitchen.
"You haven't touched your food," Neeshka noted, nodding her head towards the paladin's still full plate. "Bet it's all gone cold by now."
"I guess I am not very hungry this morning." He pushed his plate to the side. "I'm sure one of the keep's dogs or cats will be pleased, though."
"Here, give it to me, I'll feed it to them. Might as well do something useful, seeing how I can't do much else right now." She scraped the food onto her own half full plate. "And I'm not gonna bitch like Khelgar. I'll take your plate in for you. You go on. You got things to do and people to meet."
"That is very kind of you." Casavir studied the tiefling. Her normally enthusiastic demeanor had darkened somewhat, and a troubled expression had settled on her impish features. As she was getting up to leave, he said, "Neeshka, something is troubling you. Do you wish to tell me what's wrong?"
She looked a little taken aback, but shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Probably just woke up too early, that's all. After I feed the strays, I'm going to my office to check if any new intelligence reports have come in. I'm still the spymaster here, at least until that princess Nevalle gets around to replacing me. After that, I'll probably go see what Grobby is up to. He may be weird at times, but unlike Aldanon, his weirdness doesn't do my head in. He tells pretty good stories, too."
Casavir knew she was not telling him everything, but decided not to press her too much right now. Still, he felt concern. "As you wish. Perhaps later, if you like, you could join Khelgar and I for a bit of sparring. I think I have regained most of my fitness, but haven't tested my ability to dodge more subtle attacks."
"Sure, if you want." Her voice was dull. "Catch you later, maybe." She got up and left him in silence.
As he watched her leave, his concern grew deeper, and he decided that he would check up on her after he met with Ivarr. Despite his disapproval of some aspects of her chosen profession, he had grown fond of the tiefling as a friend during their travels, and though her ancestry was of the lower planes, her heart and spirit were not. Her quick mind and boundless energy made her easy to like for anyone willing to look past the obvious traces of infernal blood.
A promise he had once made to the Captain came to the forefront of his thoughts, and his mind filled with the memory of the conversation, held one night as she sat awake with him on watch while they were camped out on their way to Mount Guldardrym.
"Cas," she said, studying their surroundings with passive interest. He looked over, and noted the faint red glint in her pupils. She was surveying the surrounding area with her inborn dark-sight.
"My Lady?"
He heard her snort derisively, and a tone of irritation crept in her voice. "What did I tell you about calling me that? Just because Nasher slapped some meaningless title on me doesn't mean I've embraced it. I'm not anyone's 'lady', squire or not. I'm me, I am your friend, and I have a name."
"Forgive me. I did not mean to offend." He winced slightly at her chastisement.
She waved it off. "Forget it. I'll break you of that habit sooner or later. I had something I wanted to ask you. A favor, you might say, but something very important to me."
"Very well. What did you wish of me?"
She was silent for several minutes before she finally spoke. Her voice grew softer, but her words were heavy with determination. "If anything ever happens to me, I want you to promise me you'll look out for Neeshka."
"My L.. I am sorry. Whatever brought this on?" He was quite surprised at her request. This was not what he was expecting.
"I just want to make sure that things are taken care of as I like them, should I end up dead or worse. Shandra died, and she left a lot of loose ends, a lot of things unsaid. It's too late now to do anything for her. But I'm still alive as of now, though for how long my luck will hold is anyone's guess. I could end up as a fire giant snack tomorrow, or get struck by lighting or croak in my sleep. If I die, I want to go knowing that I'm not leaving anyone flapping in the wind."
He found her sudden talk of death disturbing. "I promised you I would defend you with my life, and so long as I live and have the power to act, I will not allow any harm to come to you."
"That isn't what I asked, Casavir. Stop dodging the question. If I die, will you promise me that you will look out for Neeshka?" Her gaze, unusually intense and serious, was fixed on his face, and he found he could not turn away. She demanded a definitive answer of him, and would not let it go until she had one.
"If something were to happen to you..." He found the idea of her dying before him too painful to contemplate, and his voice temporarily failed. Her gaze did not waver. "If such a fate were to befall you before me, then I will have failed you, and having failed you, then I would be unworthy of any trust you could place on me."
"Nice try. Now, for the love of Tyr, will you answer my fucking question? Or is that too much to ask of you?" She shook her head. "You are strong, Cas, and loyal, but you are still only human. You can't shift the realms, and if I die, it won't be because of some perceived failure on your part, but a roll of the cosmic dice game that the gods seem to enjoy playing."
He shifted his gaze down to the ground, feeling ashamed of himself. Despite his reluctance to discuss this, he did owe her an answer. "Very well. I give you my solemn oath that should death come for you before me, I shall do everything within my capabilities of making certain Neeshka is looked after. You have my word, as Tyr as my witness."
Her expression softened, and a faint smile played on her lips. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" She turned back to surveying the surrounding area. "The others, I know will be taken care of. I'm not too worried about them. Sand has his shop and his studies, Khelgar has his clan even if Keros is being a stubborn dick. Qara can go back to being a spoiled bitch, Zhjaeve will probably go back to Limbo, Elanee will find some new circle of druids to join, and Grobnar has a talent for always finding somewhere to go or something to do. Bishop probably won't be that bothered, and will have enough gold he can go buy a brothel or enough magic arrows to turn Luskan into his personal pincushion. Neeshka, however..." She started scratching patterns in the dirt with the tip of her boot. "Neeshka is tough, and she's a survivor. I'll give her that. She can survive on her own, true, especially now that Leldon is dust. But there's more to life than surviving, and people have always treated her like shit because of what she is. She needs friends she can trust, that she can turn to, that will treat her like a person. On her own, she's a target for every asshole with some chip on their shoulder. She's never had people who cared about her until now, and if I'm gone, I at least want to make sure she knows that someone still does care about her well-being and happiness."
"I understand your concerns, and I am honored that you have placed your trust in me. If...something should come to pass as you have stated, I will do whatever I can to look out for her well-being, both physical and spiritual."
"Thanks Cas." Her smile grew wider with contentment. "Look, I'm sorry to have had a go at you like that. I know you don't like to talk about any of us dying, and the subject has really bummed you out. But it was important to me, and I had to know. I just couldn't let it lie."
"I understand. I see that unburdening yourself has given you a measure of peace, and that in itself is enough for me. Now that we have said what needs to be said, can we discuss something else?"
She leaned over and patted his arm. "Of course! In fact, since I've been such a downer to you, let me make it up by sharing a few funny things Deekin told me about the other day."
Casavir felt his mood lift, and smiling, replied, "Of course. I would enjoy hearing them."
The memory lingered for a moment, then faded back to the dining hall, which was slowly filling up with the first shift of Greycloaks. But the promise was still as fresh in his mind as the night he swore it.
"You have my promise, my Captain," he whispered as he left the hall for his quarters. "Whatever troubles her, I shall see to it that the matter is resolved, one way or another."
***********************************************
That afternoon, Neeshka did not show up for practice, and after a few rounds of sparring with Khelgar, Casavir excused himself to go look for her. Khelgar, for his part, was not upset, and decided that he wouldn't mind spending the afternoon with Jacoby sharing tips and tricks of smithing. Promising the dwarf that tomorrow's session would be longer and more intensive, he headed for the keep's basement to see if she was down there with Grobnar.
The sounds of tapping metal and the smells of lubricating oils greeted the paladin as he descended the stairs. Grobnar was at his work station taking apart an object that looked like a metal butter churn. Around him lay various bits and pieces of junk he had collected and put to some use. After recovering from his own resurrection and injuries, the gnome had completely immersed himself in a variety of new projects focused on developing prosthetics and devices to assist the injured and crippled in their own recovery. Some of them were already in use, and could be seen on some of the soldiers and staff around the keep. His efforts and successes had gained him a lot of respect from both the temple infirmary and the Greycloaks, and even some in Neverwinter had caught wind of his creations and visited the keep to see for themselves.
Grobnar was whistling as he pulled the handle from the churn-like object, and as he turned to place it on the floor, he spotted Casavir and smiled broadly. "Why, Sir Casavir! What a surprise! I seldom see you down here!" He hopped off the bench and walked over to the paladin. "Don't mind the mess. I had an idea for a levitating chair earlier to make mobility easier for some of the more severely crippled, but it didn't quite get off the ground, if you'll pardon the pun." He brushed his hands over his apron and set a spanner down. "So what can I do for you?"
"Hello, Grobnar," Casavir replied. "I came down here to see if Neeshka has been by today. She said earlier that I might find her here."
"Neeshka? She did come down earlier, but only stayed briefly. She needed her lock and trap tools re-calibrated, though she didn't say what for." He frowned. "It was an odd request, since if she really wanted to break into anything, her tools were more than adequate for any lock or trap this keep has. Well, any save for those in the Captain's quarters."
"The Captain's Quarters?"
"Oh, yes. When Veedle first finished it, the Captain had me design and build some very intricate and complex locks, ones that would be near impossible to pick by ordinary means. Then she and Neeshka spent hours devising ways to get past them, and eventually succeeded, though it required some adjustments and specializations to normal picks. They also created some very complex traps that only the two of them really new how to neutralize, and I believe the Captain wanted to install them in a few areas she declared off limits." Grobnar smacked his forehead and shook his head. "Of course! That's what she wanted the modifications for. She wants to go into the Captain's suite. Though why I couldn't guess. There are no valuables stored in there to my knowledge, and I doubt even if there were, Neeshka would want to steal them. She simply isn't that kind of person, and she's as upset as the rest of us about our dear leader's absence."
"I agree. She has most likely gone there for another reason. Thank you, Grobnar, for letting me know. I will see if she is there." Casavir turned to leave, but Grobnar stopped him.
"Oh, before you leave, there was something I thought I should mention. I decided to seek out Kistrel's counsel on the matter of your dream, and what we discussed, well, it was quite enlightening, really."
Casavir's brow furrowed. "You...discussed my dream with Kistrel? The spider?"
"Oh, yes indeed! Don't be let the fact that he is an enormous glowing blue spider with mandibles capable of eviscerating a troll or umberhulk fool you. For an arachnid, he is exceedingly intelligent and quite a conversationalist, once you learn to speak...um...Arachnish. Quite a fascinating tongue, or chittering, however you wish to term it. He has been teaching me quite a bit, and one of these days, I think I shall have enough mastery to compose an entire poem or song with it! Just think of the possibilities!"
"Indeed," Casavir said. "A subject for another time. So tell me. What did you learn?"
"Learn? Ah, yes. Well, one thing I've learned about Kistrel, is the reason he is such an extraordinary spider is because he isn't just any spider, but a fey spider. When I told him about the big bear you saw, and the ghostly animals in the forest, he was certain that the creatures you were describing were fey as well, especially if they were displaying some sort of intelligence. He also said that fey beasts of all types can be found in many places in the realms, though many of their human names are unknown to him. Regardless, at least we know a little more than before."
"This is true, Grobnar. I thank you for...conferring with Kistrel and bringing this to our attention. I am certain that Sand or Aldanon will find it useful." Casavir could not help feeling a touch of awe for the eccentric gnome. Though many were quick to dismiss his ideas as delusions or flights of fancy, more often than not, they produced fruits that few others would have imagined or tried to cultivate.
"Always happy to help. I'm going to get back to..." He glanced around at his workshop, a touch of confusion on his face. "Well, seems I forgot what I was doing before you came in, but don't worry. Couldn't have been that important. Otherwise, it will come back to me." He waved to the paladin before returning to the chaos at hand.
Casavir returned to the main floor and stopped by the library to tell Sand and Aldanon what Grobnar had discovered. He thanked Tyr that Sand, instead of dismissing it out of hand because of the source, actually jotted it down and said that for once, the "idiot gnome" might have actually come up with usable idea. Casavir left the library and headed to the Captain's quarters.
Immediately, he knew he had found Neeshka. The door to the Captain's quarters, which had been locked and marked with a wax seal since the day they had left for the Vale of the Mere, was slightly ajar, and the dust on the floor was freshly disturbed. Soft violet light from a magical glowglobe spilled out into the hall, and he could hear footsteps within. Quietly, he stepped in.
A soft breeze from an open window caressed his face as he took in the room. The place was in a state of disarray, which, for the Captain, was expected. It seemed the same level of chaos and disorder that followed in her wake had found it's way to her personal living space. Clothing was flung carelessly about, some even hanging off of paintings and wall fixtures. The chest of drawers had two drawers open, overflowing with clothes and things hastily crammed in. Empty liquor bottles, some whose contents had long ago spilled out on the carpets, littered the floor. A pile of dirty dishes and cutlery sat on the writing desk, where a jumble of books and papers also sat piled haphazardly, some dumped on the floor next to it. What looked like old or broken picks and tools were haphazardly discarded everywhere, and the bed was half obscured in a jumble of unmade linens and discarded gear. Carefully making his way through mess, he approached the dressing table, where Neeshka stood rifling through an assortment of junk, none of it which looked like cosmetics or anything else normally found on such a piece of furniture.
Too absorbed in what she was doing, Neeshka did not notice his approach until the glowglobe cast his shadow her way. She jumped and let out a string of curses, reaching for her dagger before recognizing the paladin. She shook her head in disbelief. "Of all the people I'd be worried about sneaking up on me, you are the last person on that list!"
"I was not sneaking up on you, Neeshka. I came here to find you. I was concerned. What are you doing?" He motioned to a basket she was holding, which contained a jumble of odds and ends, none of which looked recognizable or valuable.
"This? Something I should have thought of before. Call it precaution after the fact. I told some of the servants to bring me some stuff to clean this place up. Gods, she was such a slob!"
"You have broken into the Captain's quarters so you can clean them?"
"No. Well, sort of, but not exactly." She looked around, taking in the enormity of the task at hand. "Say, you're here, you wanna give me a hand?"
"I would like you to explain to me what exactly is going on. You are troubled, Neeshka, this much is obvious. And sneaking into someone's room for the sake of tidying it is not normal behavior for you."
"Fine." She set the basket on the small vanity stool next to the dressing table, but it fell on the floor, taking a small pile of drying linens with it. Neeshka groaned, knocked the rest of the stuff off, and sat down.
"Well, you know when we were talking about your dream and that thing you saw come out of her, and how it made me think of the geas Garius put on me? Well, it got me thinking, that when casting those kinds of spells, all a wizard really needs is a small bit of a person. A little bit of hair, a drop of blood, fingernail pairings, you know! And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that someone could sneak in her, find that stuff amongst all this rubbish, or bribe a servant to come in and collect it, and use it to further hurt or manipulate her. I decided that rather take any chances, I'm going to destroy anything like that I find." She looked around helplessly. "If you haven't figured it out, it's probably gonna take a lot longer than I expected. You would think, that being a noble now and all, she would have at least got someone in here to clean the place periodically. So, what do you say? You wanna help me smite this unholy mess?"
"If I felt it might do some good, I would," Casavir said. "However, I doubt it would, and I did not come here for that." He looked around the room, trying to locate another chair before settling on a crate that looked like it might have once held Moonshae whiskey. Dragging it over next to Neeshka he sat down. Her actions were erratic and made little sense for the reasons she gave, but Casavir was beginning to think he understood the source of Neeshka's woes. "Garius is dead, as are his minions, Neeshka. They cannot come back and hurt you or the Captain."
"So? The source of the rituals he used are probably still out there somewhere, and anyone with enough guts could dig it up and use it again. The ritual didn't die with him, you know."
And so now arrive at the heart of the matter, he thought. The ordeal of the torture, abuse, and subsequent blood geas still lurked in her thoughts like an ever-present shadow, denying her the peace and resolution that should have been hers after her tormentors were slain. The knowledge that her unusual bloodline served as a magnet for some of the more powerful and devious denizens of the Hells, and that somewhere down the road, this knowledge might find it's way into the hands of an unscrupulous mage or warlock, who would might be tempted and track her down to make use of her infernal blood ties. No wonder she is upset. She learns about the thing I saw in my dream, and it reminds her of the atrocity committed upon her own person. Sweet Tyr, I do not know what I can say to put her fears to rest. Grant me your wisdom, my Lord.
Neeshka shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I'd rather be dead than go through that again. He...wanted me to attack you all. To kill you. And I could feel a force, controlling me. When I tried resisting it, the pain, the pressure got unreal. I...I still have nightmares about it. Where I'm in my body, yet I can't control my movements. I'm a passenger in my own skin, and I'm coming at you, all of you, with big blades where my arms were, and I'm slashing and hacking and I'm screaming but I can't stop. I close my eyes and I can hear you guys screaming and can feel my blades cutting you to pieces but it won't stop, and I open my eyes..." Dampness glistened on the rims of her eyelids, and she angrily rubbed them.
"But that did not happen," Casavir said softly, grasping one of her hands and holding it firmly. "You resisted. You fought it, you overcame it and turned on your tormentor. Overcoming a geas...that is no small feat, and most would have met horrible deaths for even trying. You astonished us all, Neeshka, when you did. Your will, and the desires of your own heart, are stronger than you give yourself credit for."
She looked away. "Maybe I got lucky. When I told Garius to go fuck himself, it felt like claws ripping at me from inside, and I was sure I would drop dead before the battle even started. If it happened again, I don't know if I could do it twice."
"I wish I could promise that nothing like that could ever happen again, but I cannot," Casavir replied solemnly. "However, it is unlikely, since there are probably not many who would know of it, let alone your unique ties to the lower planes. It would not be fair of me to tell you that you worry pointlessly, as I did not go through what you did. What I want you to understand, no matter what your future may hold, you have friends, many friends, who care about you, including myself, and would bring the fury of the gods upon anyone who tried to harm you. Even Khelgar, as we made our way through the Vale to the inner sanctum, after you had been abducted, was eager to find out where you had been taken, and swore he'd tear out the King of Shadow's throat with his own teeth if you had been hurt."
Neeshka arched her brows. "Really? Barrel-head was worried about me?"
"Very much so, though he phrased it differently."
"I'm surprised I couldn't hear his bellowing clear down in the sanctum." She gently disengaged her hand from his and leaned forward slightly. "What would have happened if I couldn't fight it, though? If I wasn't able to turn on Garius? You would have had no choice to but to kill me."
"No, I do not believe we would have. Sand always kept paralysis and sleep spells, wands, and scrolls handy at the Captain's request after...the near altercation between Bishop and I back when we were all still staying at the Flagon." He felt a tinge of shame and embarrassment at the thought, both because he had allowed the ranger to push him to that level of anger, and the fact that she had felt it necessary to always have a means of restraint handy because it might happen again. He forced the thought away and continued. "We would not have killed you, only disabled you until we could have returned to the keep and found a way to release you from the binding spells. She would never have let us kill you unless there was absolutely no choice, and if we had to, we would have made certain you could be resurrected."
"Is that what happened with that fucker Bishop, too?" Neeshka snorted. "Why she wouldn't let anyone kill that low-life backstabbing son-of-a-bitch?"
"No. That was something very different." He looked away. "She...still cared about him, and was devastated by his betrayal. She had no desire to kill him, and that is why she wanted to talk him out of it. To make one last appeal, either to his selfishness or to his twisted concept of freedom, with the intent on convincing him to leave. Her plan worked, and for her sake, I am glad it did. Had she failed to convince him, then she would have not spared him."
"Wait, you're actually glad that we didn't get to kill Bishop?" Neeshka stared in disbelief. "Of any of us, you had reason to hate him the most."
"I despised him then, and time has not changed that sentiment," Casavir admitted. "While I would have loved to see Bishop get his just rewards that day, it was not worth the price. For the Captain told me, as we searched Qara's corpse before the King of Shadows emerged, that had he not left, she would have not allowed anyone but herself to slay him. She felt that somehow, his treason and the damage done by it were her mistake, her folly, and that the only hand he should die by would be hers. And having to slay the man she still cared deeply about would have destroyed her ultimately. My loathing of Bishop was not as strong as my feelings for her, and there would have been no pleasure in seeing her destroyed further."
"Wow. I don't know what to say, Cas. This is...heavy. I mean, I always knew you were a pretty selfless guy, but I think you just took the whole concept to a whole new level." Her expression had softened, and a trace of wonder touched her features. "Why she ever picked that festering sack of horse shit over you, I'll never know."
Sighing deeply, Casavir replied, "In all things, right or wrong, she followed her own heart and inner voice. This was no different. Perhaps she saw something within him that was not visible to the rest of us. Whatever her reasons, what's done is done. Though I cannot deny I felt the pangs of regret and sorrow, I did not wish ill upon either of them, and the thing that angered me most about Bishop's treachery was that he hurt her in the worst way imaginable, even though there was no reason for it. If he felt so caged, he could have left at any time, and she would not have hindered him."
"Yeah. Fucking bastard. Well, for all his bluster and big talk, he sure as hell backed down from the big fight quickly enough," Neeshka said, her voice dripping with contempt. "He never really struck me as a chicken-shit. I'll bet he was afraid of the terminal ass-kicking he would have gotten had he stayed with ol' Bone-Head."
Or, perhaps, just as likely, in his twisted, perverse way, he still held some feeling for her, and decided he didn't have the nerve to kill her after all, Casavir thought. For some reason, he found the idea disturbing.
"Look, I'm sorry about all this, Cas," Neeshka apologized, leaning over and giving him a quick hug. "Didn't mean to be pouring acid over open wounds and all. And I am sorry I made you worry about me. I guess the whole episode in the sanctum with Garius has bugged me a lot more than I wanted to admit, and I haven't really talked about it with anyone until now. Didn't think it really mattered, and I thought people would think I was being too paranoid over nothing."
"You have no reason to feel sorry, Neeshka. You went through something very traumatic, an ordeal few would have ever experienced, and fewer still would have lived through. I am relieved that you have unburdened yourself to me, as I could tell something was troubling you deeply. I know that in the past, we might not have always seen eye to eye, but I still consider you a friend, and I am always here, should you need someone to talk to."
"Thanks, big guy. And you know, the same goes for you. I don't know too much about Tyrran religious stuff, but these ears are always yours if you ever need someone to sound off to. I'm very good at keeping secrets too, despite any rumors you might have heard to the contrary. She didn't make me Crossroad Keep spymaster on my good looks alone!" Neeshka's lips formed a lopsided grin, which Casavir found infectious.
"Of that, I have no doubt." He looked around the room in dismay. "I trust then, that we are done here? Though your idea has some merit, I do believe anyone seeking anything shed by the Captain in here would be in more danger from getting lost or devoured alive by a dirty sock golem than any danger they could further put her in."
She agreed with a snicker. "Heh. Yeah, you're right. Hells, we shouldn't have even travelled to the Vale. Just get the King of Shadows and his reaver friends to teleport in here. That would be the end of them, I think!" She stood, stretching her arms, then went over and closed the window. "Let's get out of here. I think I'm gonna eat dinner at The Phoenix instead of the mess hall. You wanna come with? I'm buying!"
"Certainly. Though you don't need to buy my meal. I have more than enough coin."
"Nonsense! I'm buying, and that's that." As they left the room and re-locked the door, Neeshka said, "One thing, though. If and when she ever returns, she's gonna know someone was in here, and she'll know that someone was me." She glanced sideways at him. "If she asks why, would you tell her I was in here robbing the place blind?"
Casavir frowned. "Whatever would I tell her that for?"
"Because. If she thinks I broke in to clean her room, she'll be so pissed off. But robbing the place, she could respect."
Chuckling, he said, "That is a concern for another day. Finding her is the main thing we must worry about. Let us focus on that."
***********************************************
Over a month had passed, and few clues to the Captain's whereabouts had been uncovered. Grobnar's suggestion that the creatures were fey proved likely; however, they also learned that while uncommon on the Sword Coast, there were numerous places across Faerun and the Outer Planes where they dwelled. Aldanon and Sand looked for any references to the twisted spider-like presence, but found nothing. Further research into the Red Wizards and their activities also provided nothing. Father Ivarr and the few that were still looking also found very few leads. The dwarven high priest suggested that the winged woman was a half celestial, and agreed that if she were a servant of Ilmater, then it was highly unlikely the Red Wizard or any of the others were engaged in anything evil. He seemed more interested in the fact that the dream had been utterly silent.
"It's very interesting," Father Ivarr had stated, "That the planetar neither spoke, nor were any sounds heard in the dream. Tyr, it seems, like the other gods that have been contacted, remains utterly silent on this issue. It is one thing for one deity to choose not to share anything, but when none of them seem to wish to impart even a fragment of their divine wisdom, it is not only odd, but very troubling. The fact that He even sent the dream to you, Casavir, is a great honor."
Nevalle, for his part, did not directly interfere with the efforts being made to locate her, only that they be done in spare time, when they were not on duty. He could not directly order the temple to cease, but he had assigned a number of new duties to them and other keep personnel that kept them too busy to spend much effort on the search. Though Casavir had told him of the dream, and his belief that the Captain was alive somewhere and in danger, Nevalle dismissed it. They were not, he had told the paladin, going to waste time and people on a wild goose hunt based on a mere dream.
Nevalle's casual dismissal of his vision did not surprise Casavir. He knew that Nasher had no intention of doing anything but staying the present course. The Captain's induction and elevation in the nobility was little more than an act of convenience and pragmatism, one that could be undone once the threat was over. Her disappearance was most likely considered a blessing, as it made removing her from command easier. While she had expressed a desire to leave the keep after the war, she had no intention of simply leaving it to anyone. She wanted to choose her own successor, and Nasher did not trust her to choose one that would be more compliant and amenable to his views and desires.
Thus, it came as no surprise when Nevalle, in early Ches, finally announced that a replacement had been found, and the keep would have it's new commander within a tenday. The news generated quite a stir amongst the people, many of whom were angered or disappointed. Many had not expected her to be replaced so quickly, and held hopes that she would return before someone else would take over.
Casavir, though not surprised, felt disgust as he left the courtyard after the announcement. The new commander, a Lord Brekin, would more than likely prohibit keep personnel from continuing the search, even in their spare time. What little of the man Casavir did know was not particularly inspiring. The son of one of Neverwinter's lesser noble families, he had been knighted mostly out of a favor for his family. Though he had been an officer in the city's forces for twenty years, he had not served in the Luskan War, avoiding it by taking a trip to Waterdeep to "consult" tactical experts there. He was not a man to inspire loyalty or even admiration from subordinates, and like many of his peers, cared little about the opinions of those beneath him.
He returned to his quarters without speaking to anyone on the way. Though he knew his own decision was final and non-negotiable, he did not wish to speak to anyone until he had formalized it. He was also feeling ill of temper, and did not wish to let his own mood further darken the general feeling of disappointment that filled the keep. Pulling a piece of paper out of the drawer on his writing desk, he took the quill from the pewter inkpot and began writing. The tension he was feeling transferred itself through the quill tip to the sheet before him, and he had to consciously ease off the pressure lest he tear gashes in the paper. Once, he had left Neverwinter's service without warning or notice, and many in the city felt contempt at what they saw a rash betrayal of his oaths. Some even wanted to hunt him down and have him tried for desertion and dereliction of duty.
This time, it would be different. He was not leaving Neverwinter, for he had sworn no oath to the city or it's lord, but the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep. Now that she was no longer in that position, there was nothing to keep him here. Lord Nasher and his elite might have given up on her, but Casavir would not. He made this clear, as well as a long list of other objections, as he continued to write out his extensive resignation.