15 Nighthal
Lyra greeted the four as they reentered the conference room early morning. The tabaxi asked, what was on each of their minds, the genasi girls, and what was happening with them. Lyra assured the companions that they were getting to the truth and the guilty would suffer the consequences. Death wasn't always the punishment, as Rotoon was evidence. But his life was forever tied to the Guild whether he wanted it or not. He would never be truly free. The hint was Wynn might be in the same situation, though whether that would affect the twins' father was a 'wait and see'. Whirl was likely to be made an example of and executed for her treason. This wasn't enough information for Jinx but could get nothing more from the guild leaders. The matter was settled, and they were thanked for finding a weak link. The elf laid a hand on Jinx's shoulder to tell her to back off it.
Zyne was not reassured from Lyra. Another burden of guilt on his shoulders as he worked in saving…what? Was the world really in danger? Did this Cult really have the ability to pull off something so drastic. Tahlethar walked up beside the dwarf, seeing him deep in thought and rightly guessed the thoughts running through his mind. He gave a nod of understanding and a light squeeze of his shoulder, letting the dwarf know he too was feeling the pressure of this guilt they just took on.
Lyra honored her part of the bargain, offering more information for them. Most of what they received this time was her discovery about the Cult searching for the Vale. While her knowledge was little, it was more than they had found since they had been revealed in Skullport. The companions got some names to the threats, specifically a spy named Brom who might be hunting them and a leader in the Cult named Helmyn. The bard hadn't learned more about them specifically, at least that is what she told the companions. But she had become aware they would be researching Netherese works, mythallars more specifically.
This information was suspicious to the companions, how she knew what they were looking for as well as their name? Lyra didn't answer the questioning looks, nor did she seam effected by their scrutinizing gazes. the bard distracted with a return of subject to the magic they will be working with. The companions could collect the needed mythal seeds by using special spell gems, chardalyn, to capture some of the living magic of mythal itself.
"Chardalyn? Those are connected to Netheril," the dwarf commented, seeing the connection to Netherese magic the Cult was looking for.
"Was this possible?" the elf asked himself, "to gather from the mythal? What was the danger to the mythal?"
Realizing he was speaking to himself and the other three were staring at him, he agreed they should visit some of the mythal cities, including those in ruins, that were in the great woods. To learn of mythal magic would still require seeking Selu'taar who had worked with such magic and should consider visiting Evereska and Myth Drannor, Tahlethar unaware of its recent destruction. These mages would be able to better explain the intimate workings of the high magic, the spell components, complications in creating the portal to the Waymeet.
The bard then asked to speak to Zarae alone. When the others departed the room, Lyra asked if Zarae had thought more about their previous conversation. Instead, the rogue chose to focus on the team's willingness to work with the bard and so Lyra didn't push the conversation further. It would be best to allow the drowess to seek on her own.
Lyra then dropped a heavy burden on the younger drowess- the casters of this High magic will most probably be killed in the mythal creation which may make it hard to get willing participants; however, less known, if mages were willing to sacrifice other's souls, such as with a soultheft spell, to fuel the spell then they would not need to sacrifice their own lives. Zarae knew her companions would not be willing to take this path. Lyra understood, but the option was presented. This discussion hit the drowess just how probable that this quest would require their sacrifice, and the Cult would not hesitate to do whatever they had to in accomplishing the goal.
"how did you came upon this information?"
The szarkai explained that House Jaelre was able to cast the high magic this way once before a century ago. Zarae looked down at the ring she'd received earlier. The bard sitting on the edge of the table in front of the rogue let the young drowess absorb the facts presented to her. It wasn't hard for the bard to see that Zarae was fresh from the Underdark, so out of unusual motherly kindness, reminded the younger drowess of her upcoming trials in seeking high mages. Zarae had only had a taste of the hatred the surfacers would have for her, especially their surface cousins. The hatred of the surface elves for drow was as strong as drow hatred for surface elves. If they were to travel to Evereska, they will prohibit her from entering, if they do not outright attack her. These high mages will not be willing to share such treasured information, especially her. In this, there was another subtle push for the group to seek out the Cormanthor drow house. Ambition will open more doors. And the cost of working with Jaelre might be easier to pay. If they were heading into the Forest of Mir, and the probability was high, they were some of their people who made the forest home. But Lyra was unsure how receptive of helping they would be. The young drowess thanked the albino and headed out the door.
Just as Zarae was leaving, "that ring will also allow you to contact me," Lyra pointing to the one Zarae had been fidgeting with.
"What this time?" Jinx asked as Zarae rejoined her friends.
Zarae hesitated, hand around the ring she had put on a chain, "she…advise for dealing with the people we are going to see. I should expect the Selu'taar to not willingly work with me or help us."
Tahlethar agreed, "Lyra is…" thinking about it, "surprisingly open. I concur with her assessment. We do not give up our most precious secrets. And I suspect these mages to need special motivation."
"Saving the world good enough?" the dwarf asked gruffly.
"If they think it will affect them?" the tabaxi added with sarcasm.
Back at the apartment, they ate and rested, preparing for the upcoming travel. The companions mapped out various paths, marking where they needed to visit: a circle around a location in the Wealdath, the Cormathor, and a double circle around Evereska. But to further narrow down exact locations, they needed to visit a library to find the lost mythal cities. Tahlethar didn't know many of them, just a few names. He was aware of a Myth Dyraalis in the forest of Mir, his suggestion where to head directly. Jinx reminded them of the library Lyra mentioned. They debated over the first stop. Traveling to the St Fanal library would add an extra day or two of travel and they could not be sure it would contain what they needed. The drowess agreed with Jinx that she thought it would be beneficial to head to the monastery then the mythal city. The dwarf wanted to see about teleporting to a more well-known library like Silverymoon or even Candlekeep. The reminder that the Cult had probably already researched these places, Zyne eventually agreed to go to St Fanal. The mention of teleporting brung up the argument of how they should travel, when to use portals, or which ones. They didn't have the connections to get the faster transportation, nor did they know who they could get to transport them safely. The Moonspring portals connected to the Promenade from other shrines and communities, so unless they found such shrines, it would be hard to make use of them. and water travel was a no go for Jinx. Zyne reminded them many of those particular portals do not transport one's clothing or equipment, as he knew personally; that earned a snicker from Jinx who had experienced something vaguely familiar.
They purchase mounts for the travel, planning on cutting their time to two and half days of travel to St Fanal. When it was early morning, the four were passing through the northwestern gate again, less interruptions from the guards this time. They timed their departure to travel with a caravan heading to Mintar along Pevadaas trail agreeing to serve as guards for the merchants. Three wagons headed northeast twords the Alimir mountains. Zarae had taken up the rear, keeping tightly wrapped and covered from the blinding sunlight. Tahlethar rode next to her to help guide her mount as needed. He had to comment on her ease of riding a horse. Zarae had taken riding lessons, though lizards mounts were smoother ride despite the darting motion they made. This wasn't too dissimilar, though this was more uncomfortable. Zyne and Jinx had a harder time adjusting to the saddle. It was the tabaxi's natural dexterity that kept her seated when her horse got spirited; Zyne was just overall miserable riding, the dwarf grumbling about his mount's disposition the entire ride.
The trip along the coast was relatively uneventful other than the hour stop to repair a broken wheel. A couple times someone's horse got spooked and had to be brung back to the herd. The winter wind off the water was chilled, riders in wagons kept bundled inside. At noon they rested for a quick meal. A man in ragged clothing stepped from the last wagon to join the crowd. A thick blanket was wrapped tightly about himself. Jinx leaned over to ask the nearest caravanner what his deal was. The man guessed the discussion, as he knew his appearance was disturbing, and answered the question he was sure was on their minds, claiming to be fleeing because he witnessed a pasha murder his wife. He had little time to pack anything and was hidden just before they departed the city. Jinx had to ask the story of what happened, then apologized after the dwarf nudged her.
"My master," the raggedly dressed man started, "he is quick to anger," pulling his arm free of the blanket and showing the numerous scars on his arms and the thick band of metal that marked his status as a slave, "and very quick to remind us of his power. After I saw what he did to his wife, he was going to come for me next."
"Master?" Jinx asked with a mouth full looking to her companions to make sure she understood rightly.
"yes, slavery is more than accepted, it's legal in Calisham," Tahlethar answered. "Though slaves have more freedom, so to speak, in Almraiven than cities like Calimport."
"Why is it still allowed? How has this been able to continue?" the tabaxi's tone showing anger and hidden pain.
"When the upper class openly enjoy the profits and services gained by trading in living beings?" a caravanner answered, "it is a 'necessary' way of life that has been in place for millennia. it has always worked and thus no reason to change," the tone matter of fact.
Another caravanner, "the law vigorously prosecutes thieves, and those who help slaves escape are considered thieves of the worst type."
"The turmoil and destruction that would follow if it was suddenly outlawed," a third replied a little more defensive.
The escaped slave was turning red at being the subject of discussion, trying to hide his self-consciousness by accepting a bowl of soup from the driver of the wagon. The caravan accepted transporting him, despite being a slave, was because it was well known the pasha spoken of would have murdered the man undeservedly. The caravan leader was willing to chance getting the man out because of this.
"Why do care so much?" a younger man asked.
Before Jinx could continue with the outrage at the injustice, Zyne rested a calming hand on her shoulder. There was little that could be done. But a small reminder of people like the Eilistraeens who worked in the shadows to rescue. She patted his hand in understanding, but it did little to calm the pain. A steadying breath, "I was once enslaved. Kept like a cage animal. Used by our captors…"
The man apologized for asking as he began to understand. The caravan leader began rounding up the drivers to discuss their next stop for the night, Zyne joining them. Zarae who'd been sitting aback from the main group, leaning against a wagon wheel was suddenly joined by an older woman offering her a cup of the stew. The drowess graciously took it, cautious to drink when it meant uncovering her face.
The woman sat beside her, "you gotten yourself into trouble?" seeing how she was remaining hidden and away from the group. "Can I at least ask your name tabarifa? I am Oma yr Asfora el Tenassar yi Almraiven," giving her full name and titles.
Zarae slowly unwrapped the cloth from her face; she kept the cowl low over her eyes to keep the sun from stinging. The woman understood when a glove hand lifted the wooden cup to ebon lips. Oma tried to subtly back up, the behavior was picked up by the drowess who kept her position as non-threatening as possible.
"I am Zarae," she paused as the other woman continued to shift nervously, "I did not want to cause trouble by my appearance," her elven accented common confirmed to the woman what she was.
"While it would have been courteous to let us know," the woman replied, anger starting to tint her words, "I get it. Your cleric explained your sensitivity to the light as a condition, he might have understated the condition."
"Would yall have willingly allowed me to travel with the caravan? Yall barely accepted the other three."
Now standing on her feet, the woman looked over to the circle, unsure how her fellow merchants would have reacted and couldn't deny her concern nor the potential of overreaction. Still, she'd have to inform the caravan leader, lest they find out on accident and create a bigger problem. Especially with the general distrust of the Fair Folk, this would likely compound it. Oma returned to the main group, motioning for the wagon leaders and Zyne to huddle up. Explaining the situation, several of the caravan leaders were rightly upset as they argued over what to do with the young drowess. Tahlethar guessed what was happening and walked over to join the discussion. Zyne and Tahlethar made a case for the girl, explaining she was one of the followers of the Dark Maiden, after explaining the difference between the drow deities. Then they were required to explain their mission, broadly anyway, before the leaders agreed to allow the drowess to stay; on condition that she expose herself to the entire caravan and explain herself. Zarae hesitantly agreed, which drew stares and gasps, clinched fist, and a couple merchants expressing anger over the deception. Tahlethar, Zyne, and Jinx had to again vouch for her with everyone. The merchants reluctantly agreed to allow her to stay, but she had to always remain in sight of a leader. They would have disarmed her but having traveled this far already, and with the potential dangers of the road, it wasn't fair to do so. These conditions annoyed the drowess but reluctantly agreed.
They rested for the night at the mouth of the western branch of the Maridlaw river where it emptied into the Shining Sea. The next day was overcast, a small relief from the sun's brightness, but colder than the day before. The campfire was gladly welcomed from the wind chill; several commented how the winter was unusually longer and bitter than it should have been this far south. Many agreed that the year had seen many unusual changes. Whispers of many places being affected by strange changes such as vanishing chasms, convulsing earthquakes and uptick in volcanic activities. One of the merchants, a half elven woman, talked about the recent destruction of Myth Drannor; Netheril attacked Myth Drannor by floating the City of Shade over it and the floating city had crashed down on it with the cataclysmic destruction of both. It was also interesting that the Cult would be looking into Netherese magic Jinx thought. Tahlethar offhandedly commented that Lyra hadn't mentioned its destruction when she suggested the library. Zyne agreed it was unlike her with such extensive knowledge to have just forgotten that. Lyra had some self-serving purpose to suggest the library but not explain the technicality.
Most the caravanners avoided being around the drowess while they traveled. Oma was the only one of the merchants openly willing to speak and be around Zarae, sharing a portion of the meals. As it neared the end of the second day, the merchant leaders decided to push the wagons and mounts to travel the last 20 miles through the night rather than rest for the evening. It was a clear night, the moon provided much needed light. Zarae took up the lead, using her superior darkvision to scout ahead of the wagons.
The horses begin to act frightened, sensing something was out there. Despite her ability to see so well in the dark, danger managed to surround them. The only warning was the horse rearing up as the flash of fur lept from the brush. The horse bucked to kick as teeth sank into the leg. Four more wolves rushed from the brush to attack with three on the other side of the trail. One wolf remained at the top of the hill, golden eyes sadly watching the pack. The wagon drivers brung the horses under control as the armed merchants exited wagons to fight back the threat. Swords arched into swift cuts striking into fur and bone. A wolf turned to the man on foot, just avoiding a mounted attack. As the wolf sprang, an arrow struck true mid jump and the canine missed his target. Another slash of metal and the wolf was down. The third wolf circled to get to the right flank when another arrow thunked into its side. A whine and it was down followed by another wolf meeting its demise. Two more fell to axes and another to a spear.
"Very strange," an armed merchant finishing the last wolf, holding his torn arm close to his side. "They usually avoid large caravans."
"It's like something provoked them," another commented.
"Or set them on us?" a third added as she ending a dying wolf's misery.
"I find it odd that we allow the devil elf to lead and then we get attacked!" an older male throwing accusation. He'd been most vocal about not allowing the non-humans to join the caravan, and to him this proved his point. "I told you them'd bring trouble," he spit for emphasis and then adjusted his turban.
The knocked arrow went into her quiver, "really?" Jinx coming up from behind, tail swishing in agitation, "she'd risk herself and fight against them if she meant to cause the attack? Does that really make sense to you?"
A grumbled comment under his breath, he huffed and walked back to his wagon. Another armed merchant knelt down to examine one of the wolves. The foaming from the mouth most obvious, she almost missed a puncture mark on its rump. Each of the wolves were checked over each with similar wounds not made by the fight.
"I do think someone set them on us," she concluded. "But who or why doesn't make sense," as she stood up to study the group. Then her gaze fell on the runaway slave. "How likely would you be the reason?" she asked.
"I am not the only one with enemies," he pointed to the four companions who joined the caravan at the city, "we don't know if they have someone hunting them either?"
They couldn't argue against the accusation, but no one could be sure who the target really was. The caravan leader halted the arguments preventing a brewing fight, corralling the injured for healing and soon got the wagons going again. Tahlethar healed the injured horses while Jinx decided to scout the direction the wolves had come from. On the other side the hill was a small copse of trees and a small cave in the mound. There was clear humanoid footsteps, rather large and leading from the cave. There had also been what looked like a scuffle in the dirt, a piece of torn fabric on a branch among the disturbed dirt. However there was no sign of a campsite or evidence of what humanoid was dwelling there.
The trail curved twords northwestern edge of the Alimir Mountains. Resting on the western hills was a simple yet impressive structure, the monastery of St Fanal, a university center for academic learning, history, and art dedicated to Ilmater. The buildings were structured as three large rotundas each connected with covered halls to another building. A stone arch led into a large open courtyard that lay in the midst of the stone buildings. Arches were adorned with carved motifs of bound hands that greet visitors before one was climbing the eight broad steps between two massive pillars. The courtyard was a massive garden with numerous exotic bushes and a large fountain. Surrounding the main buildings were smaller ramada-style shelters serving as dorms and dwellings. Lanterns everywhere provided soft glowing light. It was quiet with only a few awake at this early hour. The monks hadn't expected the wagon for another day. The caravanners were invited to rest in one of the buildings. Most of the merchants, exhausted from the last push, took up the offer for a cot while a few set up camp to rest with their wagons instead. A campfire was going despite many inside during this cold night.
The four companions dismounted while a cleric led their horses to a small stable. A tan man of greying black hair, beard neatly trimmed, and his simple ivory-colored robes perfectly clean, Revered Father Tahlis el Jhagnar, greeted them. Zyne stepped forward and explained their purpose, the use of the library. They were on a mission that required necessary research. Because it was still dark, he led them to a small building with unused cots to allow them to rest. In the morning, he would help them search the library. It wasn't long before everyone was deep in rest, some snoring away.
The late morning, after a group meal, the companions noticed the caravan wagons preparing to leave. Four of the monks were unloading one of the wagons of its cargo, barrels of rare wine and crates of supplies. The wagon was in turn filled with the monastery's overproduction of fermented honey. The caravan leader thanked Zyne and gave him the payment they earned, hoping to hire them through the mountain pass. The escaped slave was taken into the third building that had been devoted to caring for runaways common from Almraiven.
Priest of Ilmater, Tahlis, returned to the companions after the wagons departed the monastery. He motioned for the four to follow, no other questions asked, leading them to the left most cylindrical building, the library proper. Zarae had to ask why they allowed her entrance without trouble; she was surprised at how well they had treated her rather than the suspicion expected. The priest explained the founder, St Fanal, declared that no one who came to the monastery seeking knowledge could be denied. His philosophy was that knowledge of the past would alleviate the sufferings of the present, and so Fanal made it his cause to learn, teach, and preserve history. He further explained the monastery's purpose: to ease the burden of the oppressed by making available to them knowledge to help them expand their horizons and capabilities in ways that would not normally be open to them.
The wooden doors opened to an open two-storied building full of shelves loaded with tomes, scrolls, and books. Six different robed figures moved among the rows of shelves busy with some research or project. Another Ilmater priest, the librarian, welcomed the four, hiding any fear or revulsion about the dark elf who entered lastly. The librarian priest was dressed similar to Tahlis, though it was noticeable he was not Calishite, fairer skin and light brown hair. He was once a slave who had escaped and remained here at the monastery.
"What can we help yall with," the librarian Aseir adh Mostana asked after introducing himself.
Most of the works in the library concentrated on historical document, some dating back as far as 132 DR. Other works detailed the human-settled lands around the Lake of Steam since the Age of Shoon, including Calimshan, the Border Kingdoms, and the Shaar. There was a section of maps of the surrounding lands, and several dissertations from Almraiven's universities. Tahlis departed when Aseir lead them deeper inside the library. The companions were seeking specific manuscripts detailing the Forest of Mir and Phantom City of Drollus. Aseir thought for a moment, before heading up to the second floor. The far back shelving were mostly incomplete works or theoretical pieces that couldn't be proven. Four scrolls and three tomes were pulled from the shelf and set on the nearby table. Most of the pages were handwritten accounts of former slaves who sought the mythal city; a few entries were in an older elvish that even Tahlethar struggled to translate. Each of the companions took a set of scrolls or tomes to search through. Some of the works were in Calant dialect and made reading difficult. There was mention of a corrupted mythal erected before the time of Shanatar, Myth Unnohyr. Another paragraph detailed a portal, Honoursgate in Kerradunath that connected Cormanthor with the mythal city. It was marked and documented in their own notes to find. The librarian returned again, a few more rolled parchments in hand. Another scroll, more recently written, documented what used to be a forest. The Spellplague changed the trees north of the Marching Mountains into huge stone spires that became a hollowed-out village dwelling. One of the monks, who was nosey and watching the four, commented about the druids regrowing the forest as Zyne read from the recent(ish) news.
Each pored over the older pages carefully handling the parchment and reading together in silence; there were many unhelpful tomes discovered well after spending the time with them. these were quickly reshelved after no longer of use. Meanwhile Zarae decided to study the maps over in a corner away from monks and students moseying about. Skimming a faded map detailing the drow settlements in the forest caught her interest. Finding the librarian least likely to brush her aside, she showed the woman and asked about the four settlements and how they came to be drowic.
"Dallnothax, Iskasshyoll, and Holldaybim," the woman naming the 'cities', "located along the foothills of the Marching Mountains." Pointing to the fourth one, "Allshiwann is mostly ruins now; humans and elves saw to that."
"know…" thinking of the correct phrases, "type?" Zarae switched to elvish to try to explain her question, asking what drow followers were known to inhabit these forest settlements.
The librarian had a rough grasp of elvish, but understood enough of her question, "mostly exiles from the Underdark city of Guallidurth."
"What do you have of Guallidurth?"
The Underdaek city's general location was pointed out on the map, situated beneath the Calim Desert. But the influence was widespread across Calisham. It was often at war with Iltkazar. That sparked her memory, as Zyne had told them coming from the Iltkazar. Mention of exiles gave Zarae a little hope, maybe they would find followers of the Dark Maiden; and if it was mostly those of the Masked Lord, it would still be better than Spider-kissers. She wondered if stopping through would be helpful to finding allies or the mythal cities.
The librarian turned to leave the young drowess, half turned, "I'd be more concerned about a larger threat, ogres, goblins, or gnolls well before reaching the dark elf encampments."
"This scroll describes a legendary, hidden elven city runaway slaves seek out," the elven cleric called to his companions waving them over. It was written in elvish mixed with Alzhedo, a language derived millennia ago from Zakhara and Auran; at the bottom was a rough sketch of the forest and several markings that were possible locations. It further described how there was a secret city that served as a safe haven for the Fair Folk and Forgotten Folk.
"What makes it safe haven?" the tabaxi asked as she set the scroll about the Hospice of St Mariam aside.
"It can only be seen by certain races, even with magical means," the cleric explained as he continued glancing over the document. Setting it one down on the table for everyone to see, Tahlethar pointed to the text.
"And those who cant see it?" Jinx asking as she met eyes with the dwarf who had the same thought.
"Supposedly, it teleports you to the other side."
"How's all these," hands motioning over the documents, "supposed to help if us two cant enter?" Zyne asked with his annoyed gruff.
"I think if we get in," the cleric indicating himself and Zarae, "we might can get you two in. Either way, we should be able to find it. This trail," pointing to the drawing, then pulling a map over to compare, "has a spring. It will make a landmark."
There were likely to be numerous running bodies of water and finding the exact one was going to be difficult. but it was a start, more than they previously had. The cleric had the librarian make a copy of the scroll. They also copied various other scrolls that might would be helpful to their journey in Mir. There was nothing about high elven magic, which was expected from this library. But he still hoped it was going to be easy.
The research was an all-day endeavor. By evening, everyone was stiff and sore from hours sitting and reading. One of the monks offered to allow the companions to rest again in their small shack and feed them. They gladly accepted the hospitality. They were fed well, a poultry dish with local root vegetables from the city, and fresh baked sweet bread glazed with fermented honey. The monk explained they had several hives and often traded the honey for other supplies. They spent the rest of the evening telling stories and jokes after an hour of gossip and going on's from their stay in the city.
"how likely are they to accept me?" the drowess expressing concern asked as they traversed the game trail across the plains heading twords the forest of Mir. There were no answers to the question, the drowess knew, but still she needed to voice it. It would be a wait and see. But she would not be alone, she was assured. They were in this together. The land continued its hilly and rough terrain as the trees slowly become condensed. The forest was before them, thick evergreen trees, growing in dense clusters.