Chapter 50 Misadventure
Usual disclaimer: Some of the characters in this chapter are not owned by me, though all of the NPC's are. Concrit and suggestions appreciated.
Somewhere on the Sword Coast:
The very air seemed to be on fire, blistering their lungs. A flock of ravens took to the air to escape, though several of them fell to the ground, killed instantly by the blast. Casavir held his breath and threw himself on top of the girl, who had been kneeling beside him when he emerged from imprisonment in the bag. Bishop likewise instinctively threw himself on top of Karnwyr, but also happened to land on Wolf. Casavir was lucky in that he was wearing the red dragon scale armor that Dee insisted be made for him, and then insisted he wear, though frankly, he thought it was pretentious. It protected him from the brunt of the blast. Bishop, however, was not so lucky.
The flames swirled away from them, but they began licking hungrily up several of the dry trees, and then rapidly leaping to the next tree and the next to devour those as well. The girl under Casavir was screaming in terror. He called on Tyr to send his power to calm her. He sensed the flames were no longer an immediate threat, and he raised off her and reached for his hammer. But he remembered the Luskans had taken it from him when they pulled him from the rubble. He was only armed with the dining knife that Dee had made for him. His cloak was burning, but it was made of thick wool and was easy to yank off and put out.
The girl was moaning softly, curled up in a fetal position, her eyes clamped shut and her arms wrapped tightly around herself. He was torn between examining her for injury and dealing with the threat of the Luskans, who surely were behind the attack. He reached for her shoulder, but she let out a terrified squeak and backed away. He said firmly, "Stay behind me until we know it's safe." He leaped to his feet and assessed the situation.
The initial fireball that had struck their position had burned out, but the fire was tearing through the forest. Bishop was lying prone groaning in agony, his cloak still on fire. Wolf and Karnwyr were trying to get out from under him. The fireball had burned away part of the boy's trewes, blistering his leg. Karnwyr's was burned along his back and right leg. A quick examination told Casavir the girl he had been lying on top of had avoided the blast. Yet for a heartbeat he detected a faint but unmistakable trace of brimstone. He involuntarily scanned her; there was no mistaking what that scent was and what it told him about her. But that was an issue for later. He rushed over to help Wolf and Bishop.
Wolf managed to squeeze his way out from under Bishop. Casavir snatched the ranger's burning cloak off him and used it to beat out the flames on both of them. Karnwyr rolled in the scorched dirt. Wolf ignored the pain and grabbed his bow, but the string was ruined. Luckily the bow itself was made of sturdy Duskwood, and he had extra strings in his pack, which he had stored in a small cave in the side of the hill before he went scouting. He drew his short sword and tried to stand, but he cried out in pain as the shock wore off and his blistered skin split. He fell to the ground writhing in agony.
Casavir was at his side immediately. He took off his ring and put it on Wolf's index finger. "My lady's ring will heal you. Lie still and allow it to work." Without asking he took the boy's short sword from him and turned to the girl, who was staring at him in wide-eyed terror. He spoke in a firm, commanding voice. "Tend to them. Do you have any healing potions?" She stared at the sword in his hand and nodded. He shook his head and said gently, "You have no need to fear me because of your secret, girl. See to them." He turned and jumped over a a large pile of smoldering debris that had been enclosed in the mage's bag then sprinted to where the Luskans would likely be coming from.
Zeta snapped out of her stupor and rubbed her arms and legs, which had been itching fiercely since the paladin had lain upon her. She had two potions left—two potions but three injured. But Wolf was coming around. The ring the paladin put on him glowed softly. The other wolf, poor thing, was no longer rolling in the dirt, but lying on his side whimpering in pain. And there was the ranger, who frightened her more than most men did. He had accosted her once outside the inn while she was on her way back to her room. He had reeked of ale, and he blocked her way. "Where you running off to, sweetheart? Pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone tonight." She had deftly sidestepped him, and when he grabbed her shoulder, a surprising elbow in the ribs allowed her to get to safety. So even as hurt as he was, she didn't trust him.
She instead approached the wolf cautiously. If not for him, she wouldn't have known to grab that bag from the Luskan tart. She smiled at him wistfully, wondering if anyone would ever care for her as much as he cared for that creepy ranger as she poured a few drops of the potion into her hand and held it next to his muzzle. "Drink this." Karnwyr recognized the scent. Bishop had given it to him before when he had been injured. He looked up at her then licked it all out of her hand.
She poured out more slowly until he finished the bottle, watching in awe as the healing magic contained in the potion caused his burned skin and fur to fall away to be replaced by new skin. She wondered if his fur would ever grow back as she steeled herself to tend to the ranger.
The worst damage was to his legs, and it looked like his leathers were stuck to his skin in places. He hadn't been wearing a helmet, and his hood had been down, so the back of his head was also badly burned. But she had nothing to fear from him. He had been groaning when she first went to aid the wolf, but now he lay still as death. She crept closer and put a trembling hand under his nose then gazed in horror and shame on the man she had let die so she could care for an animal. She numbly watched Karnwyr lick him and whimper as he tried to rouse him before he raised his head and gave a long, mournful howl, joined a heartbeat later by another mournful wailing howl. It wasn't until Wolf came up beside her and put his arm around her that she realized the second howl was coming from her.
The other members of their band fared better since the Luskan mage had directed her fireball to strike based on where a location spell revealed her magic bag was. Too late it occurred to her that her thoughtless, angry attack likely cost her the bag and its contents as well, and that her traveling spell book was inside of it. She had a small scroll case on her belt, but she had already used most of its contents. Glyden Natale was not considered one of the most powerful mages of her age in the Hosttower. In fact, if her detractors had witnessed her attack, they would have pointed to this encounter as being more proof that she was dangerously hot-tempered in addition to being rather stupid, increasing the speculation that she could only have gained her current standing in the Hosttower through a combination of nepotism, beauty, and her willingness to bed anyone and perform any act if she thought it would gain her or her mother advancement. She was in truth more suited to be a politician than a mage, but her mother had insisted she develop what limited skill she had while also taking advantage of her daughter's beauty to advance both their standings.
She and her companions slowly approached the granite crag where she had detected the bag's location, and the thief that had taken it, to wait for the fire to burn out But a magical wind had blown up, pushing the fire in their direction with alarming speed, and they scattered. The dark-haired priest thought grimly as she ran gracelessly past him back down the hill (while resisting the urge to trip her as she passed) that at least he had a scapegoat on which to lay the blame for this misadventure. He turned and calmly faced the fire and called on his dark god, summoning a storm to contain it, if not to put it out entirely, so they could concentrate on dealing with the survivors and reclaiming their prize, though he no longer cared if they recaptured the paladin to use as bait for his wife. It was enough that he had proof that the threat caused by Black Garius's misadventure was eliminated.
Hiram got to his feet, thankful he had been wearing chainmail and facing away from the blast, the force of which had nevertheless knocked him over, though they were out of range of the flames. He raised his cudgel for the attack he knew was coming. Mignon and Leather had been on watch behind some rocks, and a moment later they emerged shaken but relatively unharmed. Mignon immediately summoned a Gust of Wind and blew the fire away from them and in the direction it came from, but to her dismay it caught a number of trees as well. Leather grabbed her hand anxiously as a flock of angry ravens flew past. "That hit right where Wolf and Zeta were." He could see the same question that was on his mind written all over her face. Did they dare go check on the others and turn their backs on the Luskans, or should they try to stand their ground and hope for the best.
Casavir answered the question for them as he vaulted over a rock and drew up short. "Where are they?"
They all jumped in surprise, and Mignon let out a shrill scream thinking they were under attack. Fortunately for Casavir she was too tired to summon the energy for another Burning Hands spell, and the flames sputtered impotently an inch from her hands. Hiram recovered his wits first. "Hold, 'tis Sir Casavir! Where did you come from? Do you mean the Luskans? The fireball came from that direction," he pointed to the east, "but they could be anywhere now. They're lookin' for you and your lady-wife to haul you back to their gods-cursed city in chains."
Casavir nodded. "And they had me, but I escaped thanks to your light-fingered companion. One of you must go help the others at once. The boy and Bishop are hurt. The rest of you come with me."
Mignon ran over to the entrance of the small cave where they stored their packs and took turns sleeping. "I should go to them, yes? I don't think I could even summon the energy for a cantrip."
Leather shook out his flail and gave it a crack and picked up his shield. He raised an eyebrow as this caused Casavir to jump, and he held it out to him. "Take my shield, my lord."
Hiram drew his long sword and handed it to Casavir. "Take my sword. I know you can wield it better then I ever could." The wind suddenly shifted again as angry dark clouds gathered, followed shortly by a violent downpour.
Casavir looked around for the source of the magic behind the spell and shouted above the noise of the squall. "Thank you. This is no natural storm. Be ready."
The downpour ended as quickly as it began, though the fire was still raging in the distance. Just then the sound of a wolf's howl followed by a high, keening wail pierced the air. They all turned their heads in alarm in the direction Casavir had come from. "Quickly, the Luskans must have flanked us and are attacking the others. I'll take the lead."
Mignon tossed Leather the pack that contained a healer's kit and their last healing potions. "I will stay here. I'll only hinder you. Gods go with you."
Casavir nodded reluctantly. "I would rather that you go with us and stay safely behind us, but at least stay well inside the cave until we return."
She walked to the entrance of the cave after she watched them go out of her sight, wishing for the tenth time today that she was back at the festhall with her twin Minette. What had she been thinking when she let Leather talk her into accompanying them? It was a chance to practice her spells, yes, but that was not worth this constant danger. Right now the smelliest, most disgusting customer she had ever had to entertain would be preferable to more hiking through the wilderness risking life and limb and getting callouses on her feet. She toyed with her hair nervously as she stooped to enter the cave. And what would she do if the Luskans defeated them and she was left all alone out here? She could never survive the journey back to the Keep alone. She felt so alone, and she looked longingly in the direction they had gone. Perhaps it wasn't too late to catch up with them.
"Well, well. What have we here?" She was startled out of her reverie at a silky-soft, masculine voice on her left and turned to face a young dark-haired man in a plain gray robe. She knew from Wolf and Zeta's description that he was the priest traveling with the Luskan party. He smiled kindly at her as he inched closer. "Are you out here all alone, my pretty?"
He smiled at her, but having been trained to read her customers' intention in their faces as they entered the festhall, she could see the cruelty in his eyes even as he extended a hand to her. She stepped back, screamed, and reached for her walking stick, which she could wield as a last resort, but a few gestures and a softly-whispered, "Sleep" later, he caught her in his arms and lay her on the ground. "What shall I do with you, hmm?" His smile now reflected the cruelty she had detected in her eyes as he bound her hands and kissed her hard then considered the possibilities once they dealt with the others.
Leather and Hiram flanked Casavir on his left and right respectively as they climbed up the rocky hill. Luckily Mignon's spell and the magical storm had cleared the thick smoke from the fire away. They charged into the clearing where Wolf and Zeta were with weapons ready. She was sobbing quietly into the boy's chest as Karnwyr continued his plaintive howl over Bishop's body. Casavir knelt beside him and checked for a pulse then shook his head at the others.
Wolf said hoarsely, "He could be a real ass, but he saved me and Karnwyr. Would've been us two lyin' here if not for him." Zeta gasped at his words and sobbed harder as he tried to comfort her. He whispered, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, Zeta. It's not your fault. He must've been hurt real bad already. You're not a healer, so how could you have known?"
Leather knelt on the other side of Bishop to confirm that the paladin was right. He shook his head and turned away. But from the position he was now in, he saw something glimmering in a large blackened pile of debris. "Where did all that stuff come from?" His curiosity piqued, he walked over and pushed some of it aside with his foot. Under what looked like it had been a bundle of red silk was a jewel-encrusted dagger that had caught his eye and Casavir's hammer, which he recognized by its dragon hide wrapping on the handle. He knelt beside the pile and pulled it out of the sooty mess gingerly, trying not to get himself filthy and called out to Casavir. "Sir, here is your hammer!" Moving aside a reeking bundle of ruined furs, he found Casavir's shield and Bishop's bow. "There's more here! Where did all this come from?"
Casavir joined him to retrieve them as he succinctly explained how it had been contained in the same pocket dimension crafted into a bag he had been imprisoned in. He returned Leather's shield to him and picked up his own then hung his hammer on his weapon belt and pushed more debris aside. Underneath a pile of gold coins and gems spilling out of a ruined pouch that caught Zeta's attention even in the midst of her despair was the Rod of Ressurection that Lord Nasher had given them when they set off to face the King of Shadows. Casavir snatched it up with a look of triumph. "With this I can bring Bishop back from the brink of death, if the gods are willing."
Hiram looked at him disapprovingly after covering Bishop with his ruined cloak. "But isn't he the one who betrayed the Keep? Beggin' your pardon, Sir, but would it not be a waste of such powerful magic just so we can watch him hang?"
Casavir frowned as he looked down on the ranger and he considered the question. He had promised Bishop he would let him get away in return for his cooperation. Yet wasn't he better off like this? Bishop was finally free as he had always wanted, though he shuddered to think where he was now if he truly was faithless as Dee had feared. Did he have the right to make a life and death decision, and furthermore, was his dislike, no, hate of the ranger coloring his judgment? "You are right, Hiram, but I have reasons to use it beside watching him hang. I will explain later. Let us make haste back to your young sorceress for now. The area around that cave is more defensible to make a stand against the next attack." A woman's scream came to them from down the hill, and he cursed himself for allowing the sorceress to remain behind.
They sped back around the rocks with Hiram falling once. Casavir offered him a hand up and they continued on their way, though Hiram was limping painfully and he struggled to keep up. They cleared the last obstacle and came upon the grisly sight they had dreaded. Two of the Luskan men were kneeling over the sorceress. The bigger of the two was growling at the other, "I said NO witnesses. You can find yourself another sex slave!" as he pulled a dagger from her chest. The one in the gray robe looked on in disgust, muttering about the waste. Hiram shouted something unintelligible in his fury and charged. The big man swore and sprang to his feet while the other man reached into a pouch on his belt as he began calmly singing a chant.
Casavir decided in a heartbeat that the spellcaster was the biggest threat, so he left the other to the baker and he charged him and bashed him twice with his shield to interrupt his spell. An arrow sailed past him and buried itself in the priest's cheek, coming out the other side. He laughed manically and drew a flail to strike at Casavir, who blocked the blow with his shield then followed-up with another shield bash that knocked him back. Casavir swung his hammer and connected solidly with his shoulder then twisted his wrist for another blow. However, if the priest was hurt, he didn't show it as he shifted the flail to his other hand. His only response was the unnerving laughter as he swung at Casavir again and another arrow sailed overhead.
The big man swore and threw a handful of dirt in Hiram's face as it occurred to him that these were undoubtedly the companions of the woman they had just seen him murder. There were at least three of them, including an archer further up the hill. But he had faced greater odds than this when he was still a snot-nosed brat. He knew the paladin was badly hurt when they stuck him in the bag, and the man charging him was limping. He kicked at his opponent's knee to throw him off balance while he was still trying to recover from the dirt in his face then grabbed him when he fell forward, intending to use him as a living shield.
But Hiram's outrage after witnessing what the Luskan pig had done to the helpless girl allowed him ignore the pain as the man kicked his knee and followed with a slashing blow that broke through his chainmail and his gambeson. He had lost his wife and one of his daughters at the hands of the Luskans during the war, and all the healing to that deep wound to his soul was undone by the sight of this Luskan kneeling over Mignon. He became aware he was falling as the man grabbed him. So he used his weight and the momentum of the grab to fall into his opponent, knocking him back and off his feet. He felt a sharp pain in his gut and his shirt felt wet and warm, and a voice in the back of his head told him that was a bad thing. But he had his hands on either end of his cudgel and had gotten it under the man's chin above his gorget. He used all his strength to press hard until he felt a satisfying crack as he broke the man's windpipe. His work done, he collapsed in a heap on top of the dying Luskan.
Casavir fought grimly against the insane Luskan priest. His injuries only seemed to strengthen him, something Casavir had only seen amongst barbarians who smoked dragon pearl resin to help work themselves into a fury. The priest's right arm was useless, and Wolf had managed to sink another arrow into his thigh to the fletchings, but still he fought on, and it was all that Casavir could do to interrupt him from casting his deadly spells. Still, Casavir had nearly a foot advantage in height and was a seasoned warrior. Yet when the priest finally fell, it was at the hand of the young tiefling, who had plunged the golden dagger she had recovered from the Luskan mage's ruined bag into his spine. Casavir was about to make sure the priest was dead, but the girl spun and finished him by neatly slashing his throat. Casavir whispered, "Thank you." and turned to look for another opponent. But both Luskans were on their way to face their dark gods.
He surveyed their surroundings warily as Wolf ran down the hill carrying Bishop's bow and joined him. "The mage is still here somewhere."
Zeta nodded. "I'm on it." She sped off through what remained of the brush, slipping from shadow to shadow in search of her. Unless the wench had made herself invisible, that red dress would really stand out now, and Zeta was looking forward to payback.
Casavir turned his attention to their injured. Leather was sprawled on the ground holding Mignette in his arms, his tears falling on her pale face. Wolf shouted to get his attention. The boy was kneeling beside the baker's body, who was lying on top of the big Luskan. A large pool of blood attested to the seriousness of their injuries. Casavir rushed over to help him, but once he turned him over, he could see by the gut wound alone that it was too late. "He managed to take the Luskan with him."
Wolf looked up at Casavir, the eyes of an old man who has seen too much death incongruous in his boy's face with its slightly pimpled skin and the faintest shadow of a mustache. He looked far older than his sixteen years. His voice cracked as he spoke. "I can't believe he's gone. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at a loaf of bread or a cookie without thinking of us sneakin' down to the kitchen, and him always havin' something ready for us. What am I gonna tell his son? He was so lookin' forward to seein' him get his sergeant badge. It's all my fault. I never thought this could happen. And Min's gone too? What am I gonna say to her sister?"
Casavir removed the rod from his belt as the boy fought back tears. "I can't promise this will work. The charges might have been spent when we fought the King of Shadows." He touched the end of the rod to Hiram's forehead and spoke the command word. A few heartbeats later, the rod began to glow white, and the light traveled to Hiram's forehead then spread to enclose his body in a shimmering cocoon.
After a few more heartbeats it dissipated, and Hiram gasped and sat up, staring around him.
"What happened? I was fighting with that Luskan goon then the next thing I know, I was floating somewhere near a gray wall." He looked down at the healthy belly showing through his damaged armor. Wolf threw his arms around him, crying and laughing at the same time, and Hiram returned the hug.
Casavir strode over to Leather and Mignon. Leather looked up at him hopefully, his voice desperate. "Please, can you bring her back too?"
"I will try, but I honesty cannot remember how many of its charges we used. But my lady made provisions to raise us if any of our company fell, and I promise you that if the rod doesn't work, we will take her to the Prior in Neverwinter. I think you've earned the right to be considered part of our company." He knelt and repeated the process, and in a few minutes Mignon's eyes opened and she screamed as she tried to strike with her bound hands until she realized she was among friends. Leather held her until she calmed down, then they both grabbed Casavir and hugged him gratefully.
He broke away after accepting their thanks, blushing and telling them that they should thank the gods that allowed his intervention instead. "Let us go to Bishop, and then we must return to Crossroads Keep. My wife has been abducted! "
Casavir knelt beside the ranger's body and touched the rod to his forehead as he had done before. The others gathered around him, and Karnwyr watched him expectantly. But nothing happened. Casavir frowned and whispered a prayer to Kelemvor, the god of the dead then tried again. But again, nothing happened. He sat back on his heels and sighed. "Either the rod is spent, or the gods have declined to allow him to return. You see, he made me promise that I would let him leave if he helped me escape the Luskans. Yet if I bring him back to the Keep, will Sir Nevalle, or more importantly, Lord Nasher, care about my vow?" He ran his hand through his hair as he thought. "If we raise him in Neverwinter, the most I shall be able to do for him is testify at his trial that he was compelled to betray us because of a geas. I think...he's better off if we bury him here, in that cave. He's in the wilds that he loves. If we take his body back and don't resurrect him, he'll be sent to lie in the Tomb of the Betrayers." He added to Karnwyr, "I am sorry." He wasn't sure if the wolf understood him, but he replied with another long, sad howl.
So with Wolf's help, he carried Bishop back down the hill, wrapped in their cloaks. They lay his body in a niche in the back of the cave. Wolf lay Bishop's bow and undamaged quiver beside his body, Zeta put two gold coins over his eyes, and they closed the niche off with stones, ending by saying a prayer to their own gods and another asking the god of the dead to deal with him justly. With nothing more to add, they moved back out of the cave, but Karnwyr sat beside the rocks, whimpering at them as if he still might awaken his bonded. The Luskans were not afforded a burial. They were hauled into a gully, and Casavir asked Tyr's forgiveness as he and Wolf covered them lightly with stones for not caring if the ravens circling made a meal of them, though he did grudgingly offer a prayer to Kelemvor for them.
They shared a solemn meal of dried meat made into a stew with roots that Wolf found, prepared by Hiram, who was vowing he would never leave his kitchen in search of adventure again. Despite the healing, he still favored his right knee. Casavir filled them in on what had happened in the Mere up to his wife's abduction. Zeta returned from her search, looking annoyed that she had to report the mage was nowhere to be found. She sat on a rock and folded her arms across her chest, snorting in disgust. "I even watched where her bag was thinking she would try to get back to it, but she never did, so I dug through what was left of it to see if there was anything we could salvage. I found a burned book I think was her spell book. If it wasn't ruined then, it is now. I made sure of that. We can divide up what little else I found. Spoils of her bein' a Luskan bitch."
Casavir thanked her as he accepted his ring back from Wolf, who had forgotten he still had it. "She may yet be lurking somewhere, but I do not believe she would be so foolish as to attack a group this size. I actually pity her being alone out here, especially if that was her only spell book, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if she surrenders to us tonight. However, it's more likely that she used a teleportation spell or ring to make her way to safety once the fire moved towards them and abandoned her companions to their fates. I remember them talking about meeting a ship in Highcliff." He looked up at the sky. "The hour grows late. I am anxious to return to the Keep as soon as possible to see if any of our friends made it back and send out search parties for my wife. We will take watches in teams and leave at first light."
He was interrupted by a familiar neigh in the distance. He gasped in astonishment, "Could it be..." He stood and shouted, "Thunder!" and was rewarded with another excited neigh. His smile was brilliant. The only thing that could have made him happier would have been if his wife should appear on his horse's back. "He must have sensed my danger and broke out of the stable." The horse found them within half an hour with Casavir and him calling to one another from time to time, finally running right up to Casavir and whinnying triumphantly. He threw his arms around the horse's neck, giving thanks to Tyr for showing him the way. After he examined the horse's hooves and checked him for injuries before he led him to a nearby stream to drink and graze. He led him back to their camp as Mignon and Leather took first watch so the others could sleep.
Elanee and Daeghun rode on towards the fire. She had precious few spells left, so she didn't dare cast them until they were close enough to the fire for maximum effect. Daeghun nudged her with his knees and pointed to a moving patch of red ahead which stood out in stark contrast to the blackened landscape. Its shape suggested a human female. Elanee turned that way to see if the red was worn by someone who needed help or someone who was responsible for the fire. As they drew near, the woman answered Elanee's question as she fished a scroll out of her case, began to read it and pointed at Daeghun. The ranger was thrown off Elanee's back. He felt the dark energy of the spell pass over him, and he knew with certainty that only his age and experience had saved him from the woman's murderous intentions. The woman tried to grab Elanee's mane.
Elanee whinnied loudly, reared up and kicked at the woman, knocking her back as Daeghun got to his feet. She had resumed her elven form before the woman recovered her air if not her dignity at failing as a mage and as a horse thief. Daeghun jumped up and nocked two arrows, aiming at the woman as Elanee began chanting in ancient druidic. The woman then sent bolts of energy at her. Elanee's spell was faster, and Daeghun fired two warning arrows that struck the ground on either side of the woman to disrupt her spell. She shrieked, "I surrender!" as Elanee's spell took effect and she found she was rooted to the ground.
Elanee called upon Silvanus to send her another tempest to drown the fire, which had spread into the hills and followed up by summoning elementals to find the fire and put it out according to their own abilities. Daeghun shook his head at extent of the devastation. There was so much healing to be done to the land from the King of Shadows' dark influence that had turned everything it reached to rot. His ear twitched as a horse neighed in the distance, but he didn't allow that to distract him from the mage. Most people couldn't tell one horse from another, but he was a ranger, and he could distinguish the nuances in the calls of different animals as most people could distinguish between voices of their own kind. And he was certain that horse was his son-in-law's.
Elanee was listening to a raven that perched on her shoulder. The bird flew off, and she turned to Daeghun, looking angrier than he had ever seen her. "He says that he saw this woman send the fireball into the woods, and she killed six of his clan." The raven called to them and circled. Soon it was joined by several more. Elanee strode up to the mage purposefully as more ravens gathered in the burned trees around them and spoke coolly, though there was a slight edge to her voice. "My friends here say you're the one responsible for all this." She gestured at the ravens. "Don't deny it, One Eye saw the whole thing. He said you sent the fire at a group of humans that you weren't even fighting. Your wanton act killed six of their clan and hundreds of trees and other lives, and you will pay for them, not by rotting in a Neverwintan gaol, but by giving back to the land."
Daeghun was momentarily alarmed having encountered druidic high magic before, but in his heart he knew she was right. He watched silently, feeling the tension in his back echoing the tension in his bowstring as he aimed at the mage.
Elanee muttered an incantation. It sounded like Elvish, but it was a dialect that Daeghun wasn't familiar with, and he knew it must be more of the ancient druidic language. Elanee began to glow, red at first, then orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and finally white, her chanting growing more intense with each pulsing, swirling color.
The mage looked terrified but also furious, and she was calculating the seconds until she could move again and cast a retaliatory fireball, her last spell, which should be enough to take out both of them so she could get away to Highcliff, where they had a ship waiting. She thought she should be able to move by now, yet she was still rooted to the spot though she could feel the paralysis leaving her arms. But at the same time as the weirdly-colored druid witch finished her chanting, a stiffness rose from her feet up her body and finally into her raised arms. At the same time she realized to her horror that she was growing taller, stretching towards the sky, as tall as a tree. And then there was nothing but a slender willow tree where the mage had been. Already branches were growing out from her upraised arms and fresh leaves were sprouting along them. The ravens circled her, cawing raucously in approval before landing on the tree and claiming her as their new home.
Elanee slumped to the ground as the spell ended, and Daeghun ran to her side. She smiled tiredly up at him. "Elder Naevan was right. I am his equal now." She touched his cheek then went into a faint.
Daeghun checked her breathing then lay her back and lifted her legs above her heart until she came around . He offered her water, which she drank greedily and then allowed him to help her stand. He finally spoke. "I've not seen anything like that in many years." Elanee looked exhausted, and if his eyes weren't deceiving him, a bit older too. It was as if she had given up some of her life force to power the spell.
Elanee took his hand and led him to the tree, admiring her god's handiwork. "Nor shall you again, nor shall you speak of it to anyone. It's ancient druidic magic that normally only the most powerful druids can cast. But doing so comes at a price." She peered into the distance. "Did you hear that? I swear that was Casavir's horse."
Daeghun nodded, being familiar with her admonition, for he had known Elder Naevan for many years and had witnessed something similar before. "Yes, I thought that was Thunder earlier. I think the horse is searching for Casavir, so I suppose we will find him at the ruin. Are you able to go on? Bevil Starling's squad is not far, but I can carry you if you can't walk. "
Elanee chuckled. "Oh Daeghun, that means he's still alive! Yes, he's searching for him through their bond. And I sense Naloth too coming to me from the north. I think my companions must have gotten back to the Keep somehow, and they're in search of the rest of us. I'll ask the ravens to find the Greycloaks and lead us to them, and then we can rescue Casavir."
One of the ravens landed and followed hopping alongside them. Daeghun looked down at the bird. He could tell he was young, but he met the ranger's scrutiny fearlessly before he leaped into the air and came to rest on Daeghun's shoulder. Daeghun smiled slightly. "Well met, brother of the forest." The raven cawed back as if announcing he was pleased to meet Daeghun too.
Elanee smiled at Daeghun and patted his arm fondly. "I think he will make a fine companion for you, if you will have him." The raven cawed in agreement.
Bevil signaled a halt and watched the orange glow in the trees in the distance. "That's odd, there hasn't been a cloud in the sky. Couldn't be from a lightning strike."
Jenns, the messenger sent by Kana, rode up alongside him. "Yeah, Sergeant. Did you see that flash? More like mage fire than anything natural. Wasn't there a sorceress with the Captain? But Captain Khelgar said she was dead for sure."
Bevil grimaced, still trying to get used to the idea of the dwarven monk being the captain now in place of Dee, and so quickly it didn't seem decent. They had decided to press on once word reached them that survivors had returned to the Keep and that theirs was now considered a recovery mission. As they watched, black clouds gathered in the distance. "Lightning could've traveled ahead of the storm, but that came up too fast. And Daeghun's not back yet from scouting either. That really worries me." He turned to face the rest of the squad. "Let's move out. If that fire comes this way, we have to be ready to cut a fire line and dig trenches to take cover in." They all were equipped with either a small folding shovel or axes or both, which eased Bevil's mind. He signaled the squad on, thankful that his wife was miles behind them with the second squad. After a short break, they moved on, with one of the other scouts blowing his horn every so often to help Daeghun track them.
Casavir had assigned the watches, and Zeta slept fitfully waiting for her turn to come because he decided that the two of them should take the second watch. She watched from the shadows while he patrolled the perimeter of their camp, and then he came over and joined her. They didn't speak for awhile though he caught her casting furtive, nervous glances at him. He finally broke the silence. "I meant what I said. I understand that some would despise you if they knew what...your heritage. But I've always believed that a person should be judged by their actions, not by who her parents are. I consider Neeshka a friend now, though it wasn't always that way."
The girl craned her neck to look up at the tall paladin. "I didn't know nothin' about it 'til Neeshka told me. My ma was a Luskan slave who belonged to a Hosttower mage, and I never knew who or what my father was. The master used her for his own pleasure and passed her around to his guests and clients like she was nothin' more than another appetizer. But...I guess I shoulda known." She bit her lip then pushed her greasy hair back from her forehead, revealing two stubs of scarred bone right along the surface of her scalp. "My ma said the master ordered 'em cut off when I was a babe, and I have a scar above my backside too. Told my ma I would be more valuable that way. But I forgot about it. I never met another tiefling until I met Neeshka."
He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she flinched. "It must have been a hard life. I am sorry, but I swear by Tyr I will keep your secret. Where is your mother now?"
She rubbed her arms and looked at him ruefully. "You make me itchy." She looked up into his deep blue eyes as he apologized and saw the kindness there. "I'm sorry I couldn't save your friend." She began to cry and he comforted her as much as he could considering she couldn't stand to be touched. Her story poured out of her, years of backbreaking hard work starting when she was very young then trying to remain out of sight as much as possible when her mother was summoned for her other duties. She told Casavir how the mage made a passing comment when she was about thirteen that she had inherited her mother's looks, and he sold her virginity to one of his superiors in the Hosttower within the year, and after that he felt free to use her as he used her mother.
"That was just before the war." She continued, telling him her mother hid her when the Luskan forces were retreating, knowing they would murder their slaves so they could travel more quickly and wanting to leave none alive to be captured by the Neverwintan forces, for they all knew too much about their masters and the inner workings of Luskan to be allowed to live. She waited until the Greycloaks took her mother's body away and followed to see them bury it in a mass grave with other dead from the war. "I stole food when I needed to after that and found places to hide and sleep. One man said he would take me to the orphanage, but...he used me too then threw me out with a few coppers. Then Wolf found me and brought me to where his gang was staying."
Casavir smiled at her gently. "I understand now why you shy away whenever I touch you. Other than the itching."
That actually got a smile out of her for a moment. "I see why miss Neeshka likes you. I am sorry about your friend. If I hadn't been so afraid of him, I might have gotten to him in time."
He sighed softly. "Do not blame yourself. From what you said, he gave you reason to fear him. Perhaps this was the gods' will." He looked up at a raven that landed on a nearby stump and cawed at him. There was more than animal intelligence in the bird's eyes, and he nodded at it. It cocked its head at him then flew off. Casavir stretched. "I must make another round." Zeta nodded and slipped between two large rocks.
He hadn't gone more than halfway around the perimeter when he heard something faint in the distance that sounded like a hunter's horn. He paused in mid step to be certain then ran back to the camp. He had seen a horn among Wolf's things while he was looking for a bowstring in his pack.
Zeta whispered excitedly, "Did you hear something?"
Casavir nodded at her as he rushed into the cave and grabbed the boy's pack, dumping it out without ceremony. He found the horn and ran back outside before Wolf had time to sit up sleepily. He would have thought it was a strange dream except for the evidence of his pack's contents on the cave floor beside him.
Casavir walked a few feet away from the cave then blew one long and two short notes on the horn loudly. He took a deep breath then blew it again and again as his new companions awoke and cautiously looked out of the cave. He was rewarded finally by the other horn, sounding closer this time and repeating his signal. He blew his again in acknowledgment as the others joined him and announced, "That has to be a rescue party from Crossroad Keep!"
Casavir sat up with a start. Tendays passed and turned into a month and there was another approaching without word of his wife. It was as if she had fallen off the face of Toril. He had taken his things and moved them into his old room, not being able to bear sleeping in their bed without her. Kana had even suggested that Khelgar should take over the Captain's suite, but the monk declined, declaring he would keep his old room until the monastery was finished. The worst part was the dreams, which haunted his sleep with increasing frequency. Typically they were memories of lying with her, and he would awaken feeling ashamed drenched with sweat and go wash himself. Tonight's was different, and he tossed in his bed until he finally gave up returning to sleep and got dressed.
He walked through the Keep until he found Wolf's room, in the back of the Keep near the garden. Casavir knocked forcefully, feeling foolish for awakening the boy. Yet he felt compelled by the dream. "Wolf, it's Casavir. I must speak with you."
After a minute Wolf opened the door, yawning and stretching. "Somethin' wrong, sir?"
Casavir put his hand on his shoulder. "Indeed, I fear something is terribly wrong. I need you to lead me back to that cave where we buried Bishop. I can't explain now, but I will on the way. I think my wife sent me a message in a dream, and we must get to him as soon as possible. I am off to put together a team and gather the provisions. Meet me in the bailey at first light."