Hammer 6, 1489
Dre'zel my love,
While I fled under the ghost’s control, I learned that the ghost’s name was Pagophil.
He was a human druid who had served Auril for years before her return to Icewind Dale. Like many other Aurilites, he was ecstatic when she suddenly appeared on the material plane and declared the Dale her new divine realm. At that point, he was already elderly and, sensing his life was nearing its end just months after Auril’s arrival, he journeyed across the Sea of Moving Ice to Auril’s snowflake-shaped floating island. He made the trip while wildshaped into the form of a seal, making sure to avoid a large predator he called Angajuk. “May Auril’s roc finally catch that oversized blubberbag!” he cursed.
Once there, he hoped for an audience with his goddess but was turned away from Auril’s tower by a frost giant and, without shelter, soon found himself trapped in one of the blizzards that swirled about the island, ultimately perishing in the cold.
He claimed he died willingly, offering his body to the cold as one last act of devotion, but I could sense there was more to the story and with minimal prodding, he revealed that just before he died, with his hands and nose turning black from frostbite, he cursed Auril for failing to properly acknowledge his service. In his last moments, he committed the ultimate sin of wishing for that which is forbidden: warmth, comfort, and compassion.
As a result, he was cursed to become a ghost. He wandered the shores of Auril’s island until a sailor, Sephek Kaltro, washed ashore, alive but only barely.
In an effort to prove his loyalty to the god he spurned and put his soul to rest, he possessed Sephek and strode across the sea floor to Ten Towns, ready to hunt those who, like him in his past life, would seek to escape the will of Auril. His goddess seemed to take notice, providing him with weapons of ice and powerful allies. But she demanded more.
As I descended into the valley below, my keen senses allowed Pagophil to detect a patrol of dwarves on a path ahead. Pagophil recalled how easily it had deceived the Dwarf, Torga, and I could sense my face crinkle into a rare smile as I held a dark hand up in greeting.
To its shock, but not mine, the dwarves were not the ruddy-cheeked Battlehammer dwarves that inhabited the valley, but bear grey and purple skin and shockingly white hair. They were my ancient foe, duergar. The ghost’s honeyed words were met with crossbow bolts and spells. I tried to run, but the lead dwarf doubled in size and was soon upon me, tackling my body into the snow. I felt a mix of pain and satisfaction as one of the dwarves beat me senseless, driving Pagophil screaming from my flesh.
In a haze, I could sense being dragged through the snow and then over hard stone. When I woke, I was alone, and I was cold! My ring was gone, and my body was bruised. The prison cell that held me was barren except for a few moth-eaten blankets. I could hear a chittering sound from beyond the cell bars…
• • •
I awoke in a prison cell and sensed that the day had passed. The stone door to my cell was a small, barred window set into it at dwarf's-eye height. Peering through it, I could see a larger room with five cells built into the adjacent wall to my right. They were occupied by what appeared to be humanoid figures, taller than dwarves, as all I could see were their thighs as they shifted about their cells. They seemed to take no interest in me, simply breathing, rustling, and chittering. Snow and wind entered the larger room through a barred window in the northeast corner. Due to the low angle of my cell door’s window, all I could see through the window was the dark sky awash with Auril’s aurora.
Wearing the darkness in my cell like a cloud, I concentrated on the sounds and smells around me. After several minutes, a guard appeared. It was a bald duergar with a close-cropped white beard that stood in stark contrast with his dark gray skin. He was clad in scale mail, carrying a burlap sack, and was holding a torch. The workmanship of his armor was purely utilitarian, remarkably distinct from the ornate and lovingly crafted items made by the surface dwarves. It was curious that he was carrying a torch since duergar can see in the dark. Paying you no mind, he put down the sack, slapped a hand on one of the stone doors with the humanoid creatures within, and waved his torch in front of the window. The creature immediately scuttled back against the wall. The duergar chuckled at this, then pulled something small and glowing out of the sack. I could smell the myconid sovereign spores before I even recognized them and shivered with revulsion at the thought of what the duergar were doing to their victims. This was worse than the possession I had just suffered.
“Eat up,” the duergar guard barks in Undercommon, “I want clean plates.”
He tossed spores to the other four creatures and then turned and addressed me, also in Undercommon.
“A drow at home in the cold? Wait ‘til Nildar hears about this. I’ve got no qualms with your kind below, but we can’t have you knife-ears competing with us up here, can we?”
He looked at the bag and then smirked.
“These aren’t for you…at least not yet. You’re welcome to some water, though. Need your whistle nice n’ wet to handle Nildar’s questions.”
With that, he retrieved a simple stoneware pitcher from a low table by the north door. With a bellowing laugh, he chucked it through my cell window, shattering it and freeing a solid pitcher-sized chunk of ice.
“Oops! Looks like it froze, elf! Feel free to lick at it if you’re thirsty. All the better to get your black tongue nice n’ limber for your interrogation.”
As he was leaving through the north door, I heard a female duergar voice bark something at him about how he needs to “quit messing with the prisoners” and “get back on watch” until “the patrol returns.”
There was a wet squelching sound from the other prisoners as they ate the spores. I caught an occasional glimpse of them; they appeared to be humans, some dressed in cold weather gear like that worn in Ten Towns, others in garb that appeared far more rustic. Some seemed to be clutching some kind of polearm. Through the rips in their tattered clothes or within their hoods, I saw that each one had sprouted glowing fungal growths across their bodies. They never spoke out loud, content merely to tear at the food that was offered to them.
Shortly after the duergar guard left, I heard the familiar voice of the female duergar guard before she wandered in. She grumbled something about “Ruvik sleeping in again.” I heard her open a door, not pausing to unlock it, and she disappeared to my immediate right. I heard her yell, and then a meek male voice said, “Sorry, Skorn!” Then, a heavyset duergar hustled from the same place the female dwarf went through, reeking of mushroom ale, hastily buckling his scale mail on. He paid me no mind as he hefted a heavy crossbow and left through the north door.
It was clear that this Nildar must be their leader and that he was on patrol. In addition to the three duergar I’d seen moving about, I occasionally heard what sounded like the bleating of sheep. Beyond the scent of the spore creatures, there was something else…something offensive…it was the faint whiff of ogre…and rot.
As I sat in the cell, shivering, I felt—for the first time in a long time—weary. I bundled myself up in the tattered rags and went into a trance.
A few hours later, my trance was interrupted. A hulking duergar in dark black scale mail coated in frost appeared beyond the window of my cell. His beard was flecked with ice and clearly just came in from outside. Two female duergar stood behind him, one I’d seen before; the other’s armor was also caked with snow. They both trained crossbows in my direction over his shoulder.
“You’re awfully hard to see in the dark, drow.” This last word was spat out like it was poison. “Tell me, what business does a bare-chested dark elf have in the Dale?”
“Careful, Nildar,” Skorn, the other guard, piped up, “Brojk wailed on him and a spirit popped out. He ain’t no regular elf.”
At that, Nildar whirled back around and stuck his face close to the window of my cell, “Spirits, is it? You work for that necromancer, elf?!”
"I do not,” I replied, “but indeed I know who you seek...and I can find her."
"Yes…” His eyebrows arch and his scowl turns contemplative. “Durth and I have both have sensed her shadowing our steps..." He looked out the window, and then muttered something about shards. He then turned to me and sneered, "An intriguing proposition, elf. I've already thinned her ranks considerably. Would you care to see my prize?"
He unlocked my cell door and bowed mockingly, gesturing to the closed door to the north. I followed his lead as the two duergar behind him kept their crossbows trained on me.
He placed a firm hand on my shoulder and, while it may made my skin crawl, it was a welcome bit of warmth against my ice-cold skin. I missed my ring!
He marched me from the prison into what I could only guess was the main room of the stone keep. I saw a pit straight ahead with a lever to operate the large drawbridge that was currently raised. As we rounded the pit, I saw an empty room to my left that appeared to go stretch back toward a few open doorways and another room beyond.
My attention was drawn to three large cages. Two contained domesticated goats that were shaking with fear. The largest cage held a massive ogre whose flesh appeared torn open in places so I can see its bone and muscle. Just in front of the cages was a raised cistern.
Nildar let out a cruel laugh and his strong hands thrust me forward onto your knees as the unlocked cage door swung outward and the ogre let out a roar as it charged straight at me. The ogre's gaping maw was mere inches from my face when it was yanked back by a thick steel chain around its neck. The stench of this ogre zombie was overpowering.
The duergar's laughter echoed through the keep as Nildar pulled me to my feet and dragged me to the room to the northwest as the ogre zombie retreated to its cage. One of the guards brought out a wooden chair and I was thrown into it while she bound my hands and feet to it. Through the strange doorways looking westward, I could see a workbench with what appeared to be a hammer, some goggles, and an assortment of black crystal shards arrayed across it. A burlap sack covered a lantern that seemed to emit faint, color-changing light. The other guard brought a bucket of ice-cold water that Nildar took with a nod.
"As you can see,” Nildar continued, sloshing the water in the bucket, “I'm in no need of mercenaries. Now tell me, elf, before you catch a chill, why are you in the future domain of Clan Sunblight?"
Stalling, I replied, "When else can either of our kinds walk about on the surface so feely?"
"True, true,” he chortled, “but more drow would surely be a...complication. I'm sure you're a pleasant enough fellow, wandering mad across the tundra with nothing but a ring on your finger and a ghost in your head, but more drow?" He tutstuedand pulled out a dagger, "You understand why we can't have that."
He leaned down until his beard was nearly tickling my face, "Now I'll give you one last chance to answer my question. Why are you here?"
"I make no attempt to deceive you,” I lied. “But I can tell you more. I am not aware of any others of my kind intending to rise up from the Underdark. So, indeed, it seems that the surface is yours for the taking. I was serving as a tracker to find a group of adventures who had gone missing while searching for The Codicil of White. I was possessed by the spirit your guards saw abandon me. While possessed, our minds blended, and I learned things. It is for these reasons that I can find this necromancer."
The duergar leader’s brows knit and the tension seems to disappear from his face. His guards were certainly paying attention now as he clearly calculated the offer.
“Very well,” Nildar finally conceded, “but you see I keep my pets—even those many times stronger than you—on a very tight leash.” He put down the bucket and nodded to one of the guards, who disappeared and then came back with the cold weather clothing I had stashed in my pack.
“You’ll need these to stay warm tonight,” Nildar offered. “We’ll see what you can do tomorrow.”
And with that, I was escorted back to my cell, a plate of plain but filling food was soon delivered by the drunken duergar guard. He dragged in a chair and was soon asleep near the north door.
Before finishing my trance, I checked my supplies, confirming that I had everything I needed. Retrieving a piece of mistletoe from my loincloth, I cast Goodberry, and tucked them away. Then I got to work licking the pitcher-sized chunk of ice until it was the shape I wanted.
I waited until the time was right, and before long I heard a commotion coming from the main chamber. Wielding my new ice-pick, I grabbed a pinch of dirt and prepared to move fast.
Then I disguised myself as the drunken guard, Ruvik, and sprayed a mouthful of water ou of the window of my cell before hiding right in front of the door. Unable to see me in the darkness through the window, Ruvik groggily opened the door to see what had happened.
With my ice-pick at the ready, I snagged the keys off Ruvik’s belt while he was groping around the cell and snuck out the cell, locking him inside.
I quickly made it through the western door to the duergar sleeping quarters and found Skorn waking up.
Sneaking past Skorn, who looked around before running out to free Ruvik, I found a dagger-shaped shard of black crystal. Taking it with my free hand, I ran to the main chamber and found Skorn and the spore creatures battling Ambrose and Jojo just beyond the prison cells.
Jojo began asking me a bunch of personal questions before accepting that I was no longer possessed.
Entering the fray, I stabbed Skorn with my daggers until he fell.
A mighty javelin toss struck down Talyth and I rushed to defend her but was hit hard and also went down. Through blurry vision, I saw the duergar bend down to slit my throat when Saritu nailed him with a crossbow bolt. Then everything went dark.
No comments:
Post a Comment