21 nightal
The dwarf yawned, trying to stave off the sleepiness attempting to overwhelm him. He had nearly succumbed twice now, all in the span of five minutes. The last time, he splashed cold water from the nearby stream on his face. He felt the heaviness of the air, the oppressive darkness that descended over the twisted woods. The mumbling and restless motions of his companions alerted him to the overhanging threat. Something magical and sinister seeping in. They tossed and squirmed in their sleeping bags. Some let out small shouts or whimpers, but everyone remained deep in sleep. Odd, he thought to himself. Elves didn't usually sleep; shouldn't fall to any sleeping spells either. After a quick stretch, he made his way over to the cleric. The elf was mumbling in his tongue, cries of pain, calling out names. Zyne shook the elf, attempted to awaken him. To no success. The dwarf shook him harder, calling his name. nothing. This started to worry the sorcerer. This wasn't right. He moved to the female elf attempting to shake her awake and she too, also deep in the unnatural sleep. Zarae didn't stir awake, nor did Jinx.
Moving back to the cleric, "don't ye kill me," he commented, holding a breath and slapping Tahlethar hard across the cheek.
Still nothing. This wasn't some simple nightmare spell he was first assuming. This was darker. More like a curse on the land affecting his companions. He wondered if nearly succumbing to sleep was the curse attempting to overtake him. This was becoming concerning. Thinking quickly, as the pains of anguish grew among his companions, he began the incantation of a spell, pulling on the power flowing through his blood to empower the magic, his hands wove in the correct motions. The dispelling magic fell over the area. Sudden gasps and screams, being yanked from the worst fears and nightmares and brung to the present time.
They had no idea what was happening, what was real or where they were. Tahlethar rubbed his stinging cheek as he looked up at the dwarf standing over him. At first, he didn't see the dwarf, but one of those dark elves razing his village. He froze, staring in terror, attempting to shield his sister from the threat.
Zyne let out a breath of relief, standing up to allow the cleric to sit up, unaware of what Tahlethar was seeing. He hurried over to lythari next to the elf, her wide eyes frantic and she was batting away the monsters of her mind. She jumped to her feet backing away, her eyes still saw the blood pouring from a destroyed throat. Saw the destruction she had caused. Unconsciously her hands clawed at her throat where the slave collar had once been.
He moved next to Jinx, who had wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking back and forth sobbing. Between the sobs the dwarf made out a few words, though no context. He tried to set a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but she too was stuck with whatever monsters haunted her. A glance over to the young drowess, she seamed the calmest. But her eyes were a deep indigo hue and unfocused as she stared at her hands, paralyzed by what she experienced. The face of one she cared for, slain by her own hand, willingly.
"Elf," the dwarf returned to the cleric, "I need ye to come to," he hoped to get him cognizant enough to cast a needed spell, "me spells won't work for this curse."
No one responded to the dwarf's calls to return to the now. he was going to have to let them come about on their own time. No one was getting rest this night, as he knew he couldn't sleep with his companions in this state.
The dwarf continued to stand watch as the monsters slowly faded with the night. When the sun filtered through the canopy, he got up to check the horse. "A fair fallhammer!" He was pleasantly surprised to find the grey speckled horse had made its way back to them. She stood beside the brown one, nuzzling its companion; its saddle bags had been torn up, but the horse feed was still intact. Zyne fed the two equines, rubbing them down and fixing the gear.
Zyne startled when a hand reached out to his arm, "Slag it!" he cursed, then realized it was the lythari. Lack of sleep was making him jumpy. He rubbed his eyes, attempting to remove the exhaustion as if he could wipe it away.
"I am sorry," she responded so quietly, he barely registered she spoken. "I need to feel you were real."
"Don't mention it. No, really."
She attempted a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Still to overwhelmed by the visions of the night. Zyne handed her a set of reigns. Ariali helped him care for the horses, taking them to the stream to drink.
"Wanna talk about it?" the dwarf asked, noticing the long stare into space of the elf girl.
Her hand absent-mindedly went to her neck where the collar had once sat for so long. She shook her head; it wasn't that she didn't want to. She just couldn't. The collar was gone, but she still felt the warlock's presence looming over her.
The dwarf understood. "Stone endures," giving her a morale booster, "but sometimes it does the soul good to unload it."
"We cant do another night in this wood," the cleric commented as the dwarf and lythari rejoined the other three and finished his prayer for his spells. He was clearly shook up, but seemed to be taking it well. Perhaps his life experience helped to ground himself in the present. The cleric couldn't hide the pain in his eyes though. He kept glancing around as if expecting an enemy to jump them at any moment. Deep breath and slow release, steadying himself by calling on the tenets of the Heart of Gold. Focus on beauty, on joy, he told himself.
"We gotta be close," the sorcerer offered. He could feel the electric buzz in the air, growing in intensity as they drew closer to the city.
"Unless we have gotten turned around," Jinx speaking the first time since the nightmare's curse had fallen over her. There was hopelessness and defeat in the usually upbeat and full of life tabaxi. She felt imprisoned again. Stuck in that hell, feeling the full force of guilt of letting her best friend die as she thought revenge was more important in the moment. It would only be a matter of time before she got these people killed too.
"Maybe you try again," Zarae pointing to the top of the trees. Her demeaner was off too, eyes hardened and the girl more standoffish. She barely eaten anything, almost expecting it to be poisoned. All the trust she built up for her friends seemed gone. It was like being back on the streets of the drow city, and she could only rely on herself.
"You feel it too Zyne?" Tahlethar asked. He too sensed the powerful wards of the mythal not far from them.
Zyne nodded, pointing the direction he felt the magic coming from. The elven cleric agreed. There was no doubting it had to be close. He started to pull the map out but realized it wouldn't do them much good at the moment.
"Before we go," calling on the magic of his goddess, Tahlethar cast a beacon of hope over them. While it didn't remove the effects of the curse of the nightmare, it helped to calm the companions, restoring a bit of hope to the weary friends. "We really are motley misfits," recalling the name the crystal dragon called them as he took lead, taking the brown horse with him.
The barrier stood before them; the sheer power of the living magic set the dwarf's arm hair and the tabaxi's fur on end. The closer they drew, the stronger they felt the wards crackling and thrumming. The magic pulsed like a heartbeat; shimmering waves of energy rippled creating a translucent wall like moving water reflecting the late afternoon sunlight. The three elves saw the barrier clearly. Over a mile was the outline of a town within the barrier. Zyne and Jinx felt it more than saw it but were able to see the hazy effect of where the ward began. Ariali closed her eyes and stepped close, her hand inches from the edge feeling the living high magic radiating. Stepping back and reopening her eyes, she looked to her new companions and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
Zarae linked arms with Zyne, who linked arms with Tahlether, who linked with Jinx, who linked with Ariali.
The elven cleric looked to the others, "ready to attempt?"
Holding their breath, the five stepped forward. The air had been thicker and heavier, almost as if the mythal was considering preventing their entrance. And for a moment, the wards within the magical barrier appeared as if it was going to. The tension that had been building around the dwarf felt smothering and he nearly let go of Zarae's arm. Then the tension broke away, the air thinned again and thrumming in their heads was almost silent. Zyne looked to the elves and laughed, honestly surprised he made it inside the mythal. Standing inside the magical barrier, everyone unlinked their arms, though no one could move, amazed at the land before them.
The magic ward that served as the three-mile oval boundary curved up reaching as high as 200 feet. The center of the mythal was the city itself. Surrounding the buildings of the town were hundreds of fields full of green crops. Numerous races were working the ground, probably former slaves who had chosen to stay. Flattened ground served as a road, winding around fields. An outer low built wall, wreathed in ivy and other vines, separated the city proper from the farmlands, four archways marking the four directions, serve as the exits. The city was broken up by low walls among its ringed sectors that could also serve as roads. The major roads were paved with parquet-wood patterns that circled and connected the districts before joining up with ramps that spiraled to the largest tree of the entire city.
The architecture was a mix of gnomish ground buildings and burrows, stone halls and towers, to elaborate elvish treetop villas. The towers were larger at the top, shaped like a tree. Giant trees were bent into graceful arches, crisscrossed by wooden bridges, with high gleaming windows in the trunks illuminating the rooms within. Passages inside the living trunks led up into some of the homes in the branches. Gardens flourish with abundant fruits and flowers. The center of the town was dominated by the tallest structure, the Mother Tree. Its massive hollow central trunk was ringed by upper paths and suspension bridges leading to other trees. Buttresses were shaped from former branches that arced down into the ground and supported the trees weight.
The companions were interrupted in their gaping by four armored elves on horses. Each held a hand on the pommels of their swords but made no moves to attack or arrest them. Tahlethar stepped forward, give a slight bow of his head to acknowledge them, "Alae," he greeted in elvish with assurance of peaceful intentions.
Ariali stepped beside Tahlethar, "Fair be our meeting, for our hearts are light and our swords sheathed, we hold peace in our hands and its light guides us," she spoke a formal greeting in elvish.
"It is not often we get one of the Short Folk," the wood elf commented to her nearest fellow guard. Ignoring the glare from Zyne.
"Or one of our dark-skinned cousins," a second elf, a sun elf, gripping the handle of his sword harder, yet keeping it sheathed.
"And we've never seen one of her people," the third elf, also a wood elf, spoke in his own tongue, not aware the tabaxi understood elvish.
"Zarae is a follower of the Dark Dancer," Tahlethar speaking on the drowess' behalf, pointing to the moon pendant around her neck. Zarae pulled her cowl down letting the guards see her face. She had to blink away the bright light of the sun, barely able to see past the guards. "And he," motioning tword Zyne who gave his name, "and her," to Jinx who waved, "are Sha'Tel'Quessi." a friend of The People. Tahlethar was speaking on their behalf and for each of their characters. "I am Tahlethar Rilynnundlin."
"What brings you five?" the fourth, a moon elven guard, asked as he studied each face. His posture eased, though there was no doubt he could swing his sword in seconds.
"We seek knowledge to aid in our quest," the cleric informed the guards. "We hope to rest and learn."
The moon elf looked to his companions evaluating the cleric's words. It was because of the two elves the guards even considered them. The leader pulled the reigns, turning his horse facing the city, then motioned for the five to follow. The four guards surrounded the companions as they were led down the path twords the center of the mythal.
The farmers glanced up from their work, seeing the squad of elves escorting guests down the path twords the city proper. They passed through an arch, entering into the mining district. The city of about 2000 was abuzz in the late afternoon. They hadn't had unusual guests in quite a while, especially those who were clearly not runaways. The street cleared, allowing the passage of the company. Many onlookers stopped to watch them pass, audible gasp at the strangers. A few faces filled with confusion, others with anger that the dark elf had been allowed passage into their sanctuary. Zarae walked through, ignoring the stares and loud complaints; she had every right to be here too, she told herself.
Passing through one district into another, the moon elf stopped at a stone two-story building, a tavern-inn used for housing any city guest. "You will stay here for the night. There is a stable for the horses behind the inn. I will pass word to the council of your presence. There you can speak of your purpose before the leaders."
"No free roaming?" Jinx asked, expecting they were under house arrest.
The elf pointing to the drow, tabaxi, and dwarf, "not without escort." The glare stayed on the drowess the longest, implying that no 'drowlike' behavior would be tolerated. She would be closely scrutinized.
Only Tahlethar and Ariali would be allowed to freely move about. The cleric thanked the guards before Jinx could make any comments to upset the guards. Jinx threw her hand up in frustration. The moon elf ignored the cat woman. He motioned for the female wood elf to stay behind as their escort, which she at first protested.
"til then," as the three guards departed.
The sign read, the Blushing Unicorn; it was decorated with a unicorn head with red cheeks on a large tankard. Vines crawled up the side of the stone framing the darkwood door. The windows were stained glass with various nature scenes depicted. Inside it was jovial, music and lively discussion all across the taproom. Hanging above the bar was an intricate chandelier made of shimmering crystals that refracted the light pouring through the windows into a dazzling display of colors across the walls. On stage the elven bard was playing a popular tavern song, 'The Elf Maids and the Orc Lord'. At a large table was a lively group engaged in a spirited game of Kholiast, an elven card game, their laughter and friendly banter filling the cozy space.
The crowd grew quiet when the newest guests stepped inside. More specifically, when the dark elf stepped in last. The silence was short lived, murmured questions then louder protest, "what is a demon elf doing here!" "Dhaerow!" and a few more explicit names. There were even comments about the two elves being traitors for taking up with the drow.
The wood elf stepped forward, arms raised to quiet the rising commotion, "these 'guest' are under our watch and thus our protection." That didn't settle the situation as much as it just contained it to each table on a slightly quieter level.
The wood elf led the companions to an isolated table in the back chilly corner that had been avoided by the patrons. Even when the party settled in the booth, the atmosphere didn't return. Too many were whispering and gossiping, others glaring at the companions. Zarae surveyed the patrons with interest, meeting their accessing stares.
"I assume a meal and drink?" the escort asked, turning to head over to the bar.
"Well. It could've been worse," the dwarf commented, slightly annoyed at the eyes watching them.
"A jail cell?" the tabaxi retorted sarcastically.
"Or being run off," the lythari added.
"You'd think my people had some awful reputation," Zarae with her own sarcasm.
Their escort returned with a plate of tankards, a few wines and a larger one of ale which was slid to Zyne. Another trip to the counter, she returned with five steaming hot bread bowls of venison stew.
"Thank ye…?" the sorcerer asking for the wood elf's name.
"Shyael," she offered curtly. Before any of them could ask her further questions or attempt to be friendly, "I am only here to guard you. And get you out of my city as quick as possible," bluntly, nearly hostile.
"Lovely hospitality ye pointy ears got," the dwarf mumbled while drinking his ale.
Shyael just narrowed her eyes; she refused to sit with the companions, standing beside their booth wanting to get through her duty as quickly as possible. Slowly the tavern patron's conversations returned, though the jovial spirit hadn't been as before. Too much unease among them. too many watching the unusual guest.
That night a small room was provided for them, furnished with a bunkbed and a cot, "yall decide who get the floor," was all that was offered by the gnome barkeep. They could guess this offering was intentional. Ariali offered to take the floor, able to curl up and sleep in her wolf form. Zyne took the cot, thankful to be off the ground. He barely set his head down before and he was deep in sleep. Tahlethar took the top bunk, he too quick to reverie. The drowess and tabaxi were slender built and able to share the bottom bed. Jinx attempted to fight sleep, too afraid of what she might see, who she might see, but exhaustion overtook her quickly. Zarae spent time rigging up an alarm system, coins and ball bearing in the provided water pitcher set to rattle if the door opened. The bowl was set in the window as the second alarm.
It was several hours into the morning when the soft sounds of the ball bearing rolled in the pitcher. Zarae's eyes popped open though she remained still, pretending to still rest. The hand under her pillow slowly edged to the dagger under it. Someone wasn't entering; it was the slender form of an elf attempting to leave the room.
Did you really think you could get away from me, my pet? his voice echoed in her head. She looked around to the sleeping companions, watching their chest rise and fall in slow steady rhythm. Painfully shifting to her elven form, she paused again to make sure they were not awakened. Then she attempted to quietly open the door, flinching at the ball bearing rolling around the pitcher as she moved it away from the door. Ariali paused to see if she was being watched then silently departed the room. The escort looked up to the departing guest and nodded the ok for her to continue on.
Ariali felt the magical intrusion again as she entered the communal washroom. Being so early in the morning, the lythari was alone. Ariali leaned on the counter staring at the metallic disc serving as a mirror, trying everything to ignore it, having been sure that with the slave collar gone she wouldn't have to hear his oily voice in her head again.
Again, Brom's voice was in her ear, the tone less patronizingly fatherly, and more stern scolding, you might rid my collar, but I still own you. Or did you suddenly quit loving your family? a poignant reminder of the threat to her clan, what he could do to them if she disobeyed.
"no. I have to keep up appearances," she attempted to explain as she leaned against the wall. Tears filled her eyes as she slid to the floor.
He required her to report in on their findings, explaining what the group was up to, and where they had gone. He'd been correct in his assumption of the szarkai bard. The tortle was there with him at the scrying bowl, hearing the aasimir's report from his mole. However, neither saw anything in the bowl, could not divine where the lythari's actual location was. They kept this knowledge from her, aware she was ignorant of the effects the mythal city had.
"I will have Kemas, Trynoc, and Eloth continue with the search for the Library of Tarchamus," Helmyn replied, stepping from the large bowl. Her hands went behind her back as she paced in thought. "How much do you believe in your…pet's accuracy?"
"She knows I can have her kill her own family. Or just wipe out the tribe. So, she is unwilling to risk them."
"And the removal of the collar?"
"They don't suspect her at the moment. So no reason to seek powerful beings to help her break my binding, if they even could find one willing to help," the aasimir offered.
The tortle didn't like this. But she was too busy to keep a closer watch on the companions, having to trust Brom's ambition. The three cultist stood before their leader then, kneeling before the tortle and awaiting for instruction.
"You will seek out the Black Library. We have a lead. The Nether mountains. I can get you to the High Forest. But you three will have to seek the cave leading to it."
The cultist bowed before their master, understanding their mission. They were dismissed to prepare for the journey and within a few hours, were standing in a white-covered thick forest. The leader of the three, the mage Kemas, pulled out the compass and map, directing them northward. They trudged through ankle deep snow through the dense pines, overgrown thickets of thorny bushes and brambles. There was no idea where exactly the tortle had dropped them, nor how far they would have to travel. Eloth, a half elf ranger, was able to discern they landed in the Tall Trees portion of the High Forest, the outer rim where the oldest trees were found. Which meant the northeastern side of the forest. Not far from their location, was the first sign of elven ruins, the outer portion of Teuveamanthaar, the ancient capital of the elven kingdom of Eaerlann. Eloth warned her male compatriots of the danger of running into the forest druids who took up residence in the former elven stronghold. Rumors told of a gold dragon who had dwelt among the druids.
"Should we circle around?" Kemas whispered as he walked beside Eloth.
The half elf thought about it. It was the wisest course, but the most time consuming. Trynoc agreed they would be better off circling the druid stronghold rather than face the potential of a gold dragon. None of the three were the stealthiest of people, nor likely to survive a struggle with a dragonkin known for their strong morality and sense of justice.
The bypass took an additional day of travel but were relieved to see the trees thinning and the foothills of the Nether Mountains. The clearing of the forest left them open to the frigid winds. The snow was knee high and the paths completely covered. They wrapped their fur lined cloaks tighter, thankful for the magic in the rings on their finger preventing them from freezing. They pulled out the map again, hoping to estimate their location in relation to the forest and mountains.
"Here is Hellgate's Keep," pointing to the location on the map, "and this is Telkoun's Tower. We need to find the Caverns of Xammux."
Trynoc, the least intelligent, though the strongest and best fighter, "I thought we were looking for the Black Library."
"If you'd been paying attention, you'd know the caverns house the library," Kemas giving the warrior a smack to the back of the head.
Trynoc narrowed his eyes threateningly to their leader, almost challenging him to try again. Kemas understood his mistake and returned to focusing on Eloth's map. She called the males to knock it off, they'd be drawing unwanted attention.
"From who?!" the warrior hollered, hands up inviting a threat to try. "There is no one in their right mind out here!"
"Clearly," the half elf commented, rolling her eyes. She pulled a second map, this one hand drawn almost like a child did it. It somewhat resembled the official map, with the exception of many markings and notations, including a circle around the mountain range.
Kemas snickered at it, "that is what we are basing our investigation on?"
"I'll have you know, Mistress Helmyn did this."
That sobered up the human looking man. He back a step, fiddling with the string in his tunic, letting out a sigh and motioning for the half elf to continue.
"Now, as I started to say. We follow this ridgeline here," Eloth pointing, "and I think we find the right cave."
"And the right cave is marked?"
A shrug, "but we find the right ravine, I think it leads into the cave."
"Lead the way," Trynoc falling into place, adjusting the greatsword on his back.
Brom returned to his boss' side that morning, scrolls and parchments in hand. Helmyn stood at the table, staring off into the wild deep in thought. Clearing her throat upon realizing her mental wandering, she motioned the aasimir over. A servant of the tortle, a dwarf, carried in a plate of drinks and breakfast, setting it on the table as directed by Helmyn. The warlocks dismissed the dwarf quickly.
"What have we heard from Reyxidor?" sipping from the steaming mug of milk. "Or about this elf mage?"
"Still hasn't reported in," Brom taking a mug, though he paused at his lips, "it's been near tenday," then taking a drink of the hot beverage.
"Not like him to not report in."
"You did say it was a large area of land," Brom offered. Expecting Helmyn was preparing to send him to the elven mage if they hadn't gotten a report within the day. He didn't want to work with the haughty and pompous race. He'd already dealt with one elven mage and that was enough for him.
As if the warlock was reading his mind, or perhaps just his body language, "we will be dealing with elves quite a bit in this. So, I suggest you get over it," her departing words as she returned to her personal chamber.