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Tales of Faerun


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After the dinner, Shalena remained in the main hall, while Nawen went back to her room, but couldn't sit still for long, so taking her knife and leaving other items as well as sleeping Rhegar in her room, the drow went for a walk. Their encounter with devourers was terrifying. In all years Nawen spent traveling the Realms she had seen all kinds of creatures and monsters, but nothing as horrifying as that.

 

As she left the clanhold and stepped outside she heard footsteps coming from behind her. Looking back she noticed Shalena closing the door of the clanhold behind her. Sighing, Nawen began walking away from the clanhold, the piratess followed her.

 

"I've seen the reason for your mopey mood at the tavern last night," Shalena said as soon as she caught up with the drow, "wasn't chasing skirts, at least while I was there. Which is surprising considering what he told you and how he tried to court Rhaine."

 

Nawen stopped walking, her eyes widening in surprise. "How do you know these things?"

 

Shalena chuckled as she gestured for the drow to continue walking. "I'm a pirate, sweet thing. Eavesdropping is one of the things I and my people enjoy doing." She looked at Nawen and chuckled again. "What? Were you expecting privacy on my ship? I didn't trust any of you enough to have you roaming my ship freely."

 

There was a moment of silence before Nawen spoke again. "If you knew all of this, why didn't you say anything?"

 

"It was not my place to tell," she said but after seeing Nawen's look which clearly indicated she wasn't convinced the piratess said, "I wanted to see which one will crack first. As I was expecting our dear Doomguide did."

 

Nawen walked in silence, until the two reached a secluded enough place to continue conversation. "I don't know what to do," the drow said as she sat on the bench, "I've never been in a situation like this... Shalena, how should I act?"

 

The piratess didn't know which one was more surprising. The fact that she used her name or that she was asking for an advice. She looked at Nawen and as their eyes met she dropped all ideas of annoying the ranger or giving silly answers. Sighing heavily, the piratess sat on the bench beside the drow. "I'd say end it all before you got too involved, but I'm certain you won't do that." The half-elf paused for a brief moment before continuing her speech. "What you should do is stop being such a fool. Stop trying to please everyone and hurt yourself in the process, because no one is worth it. Not him, not anyone."

 

Before Nawen could say anything back, the piratess spoke again. "I've eavesdropped enough to hear how one-sided your whole agreement was," "but he-" Nawen interrupted, "people like him lie all the time, maybe he already got tired of you and has some lovely maiden warming his bed right now," but seeing how upsetting her words were to Nawen, Shalena placed her hand on the drow's shoulder, "If you trust him as you seem to, then stay together, who knows maybe everything will work out fine," the piratess stood up and looked at the drow, "but the moment that trust wavers, then you'll know it is over." "I'd ask your other friends for advice if I were you. We're not friends."

 

"Then why did you bother talking to me?" Nawen asked.

 

"Why, because I couldn't pass an opportunity to be the more knowledgeable one." The piratess laughed before walking back to the dwarven clanhold. For a while Nawen sat on the bench alone before getting up and leaving the town. She had a lot on her mind, and needed time as well as to be alone to process it all. She returned to the clanhold only early in the morning, few hours past dawn.

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Arland gave Argyros a quick summary of the day's events in the form of, "Something killed the elves, raised them from the dead, and almost killed us all. There were these really big ones, too. Rhaine called 'em Devourers, they eat souls. Rest of 'em were Bodaks and ghouls." Amendale quickly disappeared into his room, after which Arland explained, "It was Amendale's old clan. He's freshly orphaned, now." Weyland shot him a stern look that told Arland to start treating the matter a bit more respectfully, and the clenched fist showed him the consequences if he failed. The youngest Grey hid a scoff and went to find the nearest alcoholic beverage while Weyland, too, went back to his room.

He removed his armor and got changed into a clean set of clothes consisting of a beige button-up shirt (the sleeves of which he quickly pushes up past his elbow to help cope with the heat) and dark-brown pants, and a fresh pair of socks. He sat on the side of his bed with his sword in its sheath leaned up against the frame and rested his head on his hands, just glad to be able to sit down and rest after the battle. He decided that Amendale needed his space and left him alone for the moment. He heard the door shift open, and his eyes darted to the doorway and found Dri slipping her way in with him. He gave her the best warm smile he could muster given his weariness and sorrow, and the changeling sat beside him on the bed, radiating concern.

 

I heard what happened. Are you okay? She asked him, eyes wide.

 

"Yeah." He told her. "I'm alright. I got knocked around a little, but I'll only have a few bruises to show for it. It's Amendale I'm worried about, personally. He took the biggest hit in every sense of the word. All of the people he grew up with we just had to kill, and during the battle he had his entire side shredded right through his mail." Weyland sighed. "It just makes me all the more glad you weren't there to witness it, Dri. It was terrible. Amendale even had his mother's spirit speak to him before she drifted into the afterlife."

 

At least he had the gift of closure. She replied. Weyland felt her wistfulness.

 

"That he did." He nodded. "I think Amendale needs his space right now, so I'll talk to him later. For now, I'm just glad to have you safe and sitting here beside me." He smiled at her, slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a hug.

 

I'm happy you're safe, too. Her thoughts echoed, cuing Weyland to cup her face in both hands and press his lips to her forehead. He both saw and felt her flush. They were inseparable for the whole night, and eventually the two of them fell asleep together on the bed, curled against each-other.

 

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Amendale was the first awake in the morning, awake after a fitful, restless sleep. He awoke sweaty, having long since kicked his blanket off of himself. He wearily crawled out of bed and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head to clear it of the haunting images within. He sighed, keeping quiet, vaguely aware that he was sharing a room. When he glimpsed Zorica, asleep on the too-short bed across from his, memories of the night beforehand suddenly came back to him, and he smiled at her sleeping form. He draped her blanket back over her as gently as he could.

 

At breakfast, Amendale found he didn't have an appetite. He grabbed an apple and nibbled on it, feeling exhausted but unable to sleep. Nawen appeared a few hours later, a forlorn expression on her face. He couldn't find it in him to speak, so he stared blankly ahead of him, dark bags under his eyes as he took another small bite of apple. When Weyland appeared another hour later, he shot Amendale an encouraging look and patted him reassuringly on the back, but he left Amendale alone, for which the elf was grateful.

 

Weyland brought back an entire breakfast to his room and left it on the nightstand beside the sleeping Dri, complete with eggs, bread, and half a plate of bacon. It took a few minutes, but the smell eventually roused her from her sleep in her typical trance-like state. She sat up- this time still clothed - to follow the smell and grab some bacon for herself, but Weyland lid his hand on her shoulder and kept her there.

 

"No need to go wandering off." He smirked, and handed her the plate. "I brought your bacon to you this time."

 

Confused, she looked blankly at the object he held in front of her until suddenly her brain started working again. She shot him a big smile which- combined with her sleep-tousled hair - made Weyland's heart skip a beat, and dug in. Even in the natural form she'd reverted to after she'd fallen asleep, Weyland found her absolutely adorable. He had to laugh at her eagerness.

"Careful not to take my hand off while you're at it, eh?" He mocked, grinning.

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When morning broke, Tannin finally rejoined the group, a large sack of books hefted over his shoulder. "Good morning companions, I hope I didn't miss anything too exciting, not that I would have been able to pry myself away from my own business but still, a twinge of regret would find it's way into my heart regardless." He said cheerfully as he dropped the sack onto a nearby table.

 

Just as he did a small hand reached up over the counter and slowly made its way towards the sack before being slapped away by Tannin. "I apologize for my absence buuut, decided to brush up on a few subjects, do a little studying, learn new things and all that fun. Only it wasn't fun, it was rather worrisome, but not to any real serious extent, I'm more.... inconvenienced by it than worried, maybe slightly troubled, though that's a bit much too." He shrugged the thought off before slapping the small hand away again.

 

"Hexol, don't make me regret breaking you out of prison, or have to clean up the mess you'll make on yourself if you happen to look into the wrong one of these." Tannin warned.

 

"They're bad books then?" The Kender asked, shaking his stinging hand.

 

"A few are, might cause you to never be able to use your hands again."

 

"But I like my hands..."

 

"Then I suppose it'd be in your best interest to keep them to yourself then wouldn't it?" Tannin said before stepping away in search of food, leaving Hexol to decide for himself if seeing what was inside the books was worth the risk of losing his basic motor functions.

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Shortly after Nawen returned to the clanhold, Tannin found his way to it as well. She spend the whole night thinking about what Rhaine told her and the advice Shalena had given her, but just as she saw him it felt like Rhaine had told her about what happened in the ship mere moments ago. The drow grabbed a plate with food and looked at it for a few seconds before saying. "I wonder what business it was if it was so difficult to pry away," she said somewhat bitterly, "more courting I bet." She added before brushing past her companions and heading towards her room.

 

Shalena watched the scene with a surprised look on her face. "Wow, that was very... confronting of her." The piratess said to the person standing closest to her. She then got up and walked up to the counter. "She found out about your intriguing little conversation with our noble leader back at my ship," the half-elf said quietly to Tannin, "wasn't my doing. Just throwing this out there before you start swinging your creepy sword around." She added and went back to her seat with a drink in hand.

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Originally confused at Nawen's comment, Tannin stood with his brow arched as he tried to figure out what she was talking about. He was even more confused when Shalena told him what it was all about. "My conver...sation?" He asked in a puzzled tone. "Suppose I should go see what this is all about then." He said, putting the food down and following after Nawen, not saying anything as he noticed Hexol slowly pulling a book out from the sack.

 

Reaching Nawen's room door, Tannin knocked before entering. "Sooo you're upset with me... and I'm pretty sure I haven't done anything to make you upset, sooo I'm rather confused here, and would greatly appreciate being told what I did wrong." He said, hoping to get an answer.

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As she entered the room, Nawen set the plate of food on the table not feeling very hungry, and went to sit on the bed. She stared at her own hands when somebody knocked on the door. She shot a glance at the door and saw Tannin entering the room.

 

"I've been told you offered to court Rhaine back at the ship," she said without looking at him, "and when she refused you moved on so quickly to me. Am I suppose to believe you really do care about me after this?" She added and looked at him. "What if she agreed to it, you what, thought I would have been okay with you flirting with me despite being... involved with a closest friend I've ever had?" She stood up and looked at him again. "I can't help but feel you're only interested in my because Rhaine refused your advances. What? You thought. 'Oh I don't want to be alone so I'm going to try to get together with Nawen, because she's so lonely and desperate for affection?!'" Her voice grew angrier and quieter.

 

Back in the common hall of the clanhold Shalena noticed the books Tannin brought. She approached them and took one. "I wonder how much they're worth." She wondered out loud.

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Tannin thought for a moment until he remembered exactly what it was she was talking about. "Oooh thaaat. Well I wasn't being serious at all there. Didn't at all expect her to even contemplate the offer really. Her and I aren't exactly each others' type after all. I mean can you even imagine her and I in a relationship?" He chuckled. "Stuff of nightmares, that. No no, no real interest there, maybe if she were older and less naive, but as she is? Nooo thank you. Doubt her and I could talk for more than half an hour before it devolved into a shouting match." He scoffed.

 

"So to answer your questions my dear," He said with a smile as he approached her, "No, I'm not afraid of being alone, I'm no stranger to solitude. No I did not move on to you after Rhaine turned down what was meant to be friendly joking, and I never once considered that you were starved for affection. To be perfectly honest with you, never really gave it much thought until you brought it up. Thought you were a rather well put together, surface dwelling, Drow woman, who never let anything bother her." He said, sitting down at the foot of her bed.

 

"As much as I pride myself on being able to know what's going on in people's heads, I fear that skill didn't serve me too well in this case did it?"

---------------

 

"Probably a lot of cool stuff in them." Hexol said before opening a dark red, leather one. A few seconds after he slammed the book shut and threw it onto the table. "Ummm..... oh... Are... are we sure that Tannin's not like.... a dark wizard with dreams of unleashing a torrent of evil upon all those that live?" Hexol asked in a rather concerned tone of voice.

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"Don't you think it was a bit cruel to joke like that?" She asked with the frown on her face.

 

To everything else he said she had no reply. She simply didn't know what to say. She wanted, hoped that he was being honest, that he really was interested in her, cared about her and wasn't just jumping to another available woman. "This relationship thing isn't going like I thought it would." The drow sighed heavily. "I just thought I would be... happier." She thought but left her thoughts unspoken. "How many more surprises like this one should I expect?" Nawen asked, her voice sounded more coldly than she wanted to. "I... even I have limits when it comes to these sort of things."

 

Shalena opened a book she was holding as well, read a few paragraphs and closed it, her reaction was much more calmer than Hexol's. "That's a very good question," she said as she placed the book back on the table, "and perhaps he is. Better lock your room at night then." She grinned.

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Zorica woke very late in the morning, surprised to see a blanket tucked under her chin, since she did not recall pulling one over her before she fell asleep. When she glanced around, she realized that Amendale was already gone, and she smiled very slightly to herself as she understood.

 

By the time she readied herself and joined the others in the dining hall, most of them had already eaten breakfast. She grabbed a bowl of porridge that was turning cold and ate greedily while the others talked. From across the room, she eyed Amendale with his forlorn expression and half-eaten apple and decided to join him, or at least to try to. There was always a chance that he just wanted to be by himself in his time of grief.

 

"Hey," she started softly, indicating the seat across from him, "Mind if I join you? If you don't want me to, that's all right...just thought you might want the company is all."

 

Meanwhile, Argyros watched as the newly-freed Hexol was going through Tannin's books. To the kender's inquiry, the dragon-in-disguise chuckled heartily, "There is no telling, tiny one. Perhaps he is and perhaps he is not. With his kind, you can never be sure."

 

Conall was concerned to see Nawen storm out of the hall and Tannin follow soon after. He raised a snowy eyebrow as he watched them disappear down the shadowed corridor, and he rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly; he was still quite sore from the previous day's battle, and it would take a few days to get over the beating he had taken. His own breakfast had long been eaten, as he had risen quite early, unable to sleep well. His thoughts were occupied with the plight of the village and that of the dwarves, and he feared that whomever had murdered the elves and raised them as undead servitors had also poisoned the water supply. But if that was the case, then the question remained of why. Other than the fact this was the capital of the gold dwarves's kingdom, there was little reason to assault them like this.

 

Rhaine, too, was pondering the situation at her own table...so much so that she payed little attention to the conflict between Nawen and the freshly-arrived Tannin. The thought briefly crossed her mind that if he did anything to Nawen, she would make good on the promise she made at the thri-kreen camp, but then her musings led her quickly back to the troubles of the dwarves.

 

Suddenly, the doors of the hall opened, and Dagny came rushing through, her breath coming out in quick little pants, "It's Falhgrod...he's here!"

 

Not long afterwards, an elderly dwarf followed in her footsteps, two heavily-armed guards joining him at either side. His snow-white beard, though thinning, was so long that it touched the floor as he walked. His head was bald, though, and shiny in the firelight. His bronze skin was greatly weathered and lined with countless deep wrinkles about his eyes and mouth. He glanced at each of the party members with a fierce hazel gaze, the iris of one eye sporting heterochromia - a wedge-shaped slice of pale blue amidst the brown-green. His lips were thin and set in an asymmetrical line. In one hand he held a simple wooden staff, though he was garbed in an elaborate set of swishing russet robes, adorned with a thick gold and green brocade trim.

 

He stopped a few feet in front of Rhaine, peering up at her with no small amount of haughtiness in his gaze. His guards halted not far behind. He studied her long and hard, as if picking her apart feature by feature, until at last he spoke in a gravelly, heavily-accented voice.

 

"So ye're the ones that've caused such a stir here...'investigatin the cause of our city's troubles', so Flamehearts tell me. But Flamehearts be not the most respectable sort, and certainly not trustworthy for harborin' unwelcome intruders in our walls. Dagny be welcome, perhaps, but ye all not be. For all we know, ye are the ones who poisoned us, and 'ave come 'ere to gloat over ye're triumph. For only ye have brought us news about it comin' from outside our hold...only ye dare make yerselves at home here. Why meddle in the affairs of dwarves ye not know if not to satisfy ye're own morbid curiosity?" He sneered at her, "We be all ready to send a squad through the Underdark to find the drow who hate us as they do...but what if it not be they, hmm? What if the cause stands before us as pretty as ye please?" His finishing words were laced with malevolence.

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"Sure." Amendale croaked, and gestured towards the seat. They sat there in silence for a minute, with Amendale biting off a small chunk of apple. Once he swallowed, he looked her in the eyes. "I just wanted to say thank you. For supporting me, I mean. It meant a lot to know that you care." He tried to smile at her, but only succeeded in a curl of the lips. Then his eyes were downcast again, and he said nothing.

 

Arland, sitting at a table, watched Tannin with some suspicion as he followed the troubled Nawen upstairs. He wasn't sure what had Nawen to upset this morning, but evidently it did indeed have something to do with the half-drow, and Arland was not pleased to see her in such a state...though he'd never admit it. If he wronged her, Arland decided that he'd join Rhaine in teaching Tannin a lesson. Of course, he'd never admit to agreeing with Rhaine on something, either, so he didn't say anything on the subject.

 

Fahlgrod's arrival, thankfully, gave Arland something he could direct his anger towards.

 

The old dwarf's words threatened to ignite the extinguished flame within him that had led to his becoming a fugitive wanted from Westgate to Shadowdale. He turned around and glared at the prissy pile of beard in front of Rhaine.

"Oh, this one's a piece of work..." He muttered venomously. He was well-aware that Rhaine stood no more than a foot to his right, but he was more than willing to face her wrath this time. "The Flamehearts here are certainly more respectable than other dwarves I've met, present company included." His eyes narrowed. "Certainly more respectable than the puffed-up, useless sad sack that just walked in the door and accused us of poisoning an entire city. The useless wrinkle who, might I add, failed to notice an entire village of Bodaks and Devourers not five miles up the road, letting them run around and kill people. Does that sound like someone respectable to you, Chosen?" He directed the question at Rhaine. "He's certainly not as respectable as the two Drow amongst us, who've proven themselves a lot braver and better than this fat, entitled pig." For the sake of not being forced to kill Fahlgrod and his guards in self-defense, Arland didn't spit on him as he was sorely tempted to. "Do the robes and beard compensate well enough for your other shortcomings, Stumpy? Or is that what the guards are for?"

 

Rhaine opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Falhgrod, whose face had reddened to a brilliant shade of crimson, "Why, you insolent little beardless spawn of human filth! I hope ye realize ye aren't helpin' yer case, any!" Dagny and her mother stared open-mouthed at the dwarf and at Arland, both of them shocked at Falhgrod's behavior, which was nothing like him...or what they had thought was him. Both were certain that something had changed him...

 

"Can't even take an insult like a real dwarf could. Bet he couldn't take a hit, either." Arland squared his shoulders. Marie appeared behind him, wondering what all the shouting was about. Arland didn't notice her. "I've killed your type before, dwarf. Other lumps of stlarning filth that thought they were better than everyone else. Especially us "filthy" peasant-born." He gestured to himself, leering at the wizened old man. "Let's hope you don't make the same mistake, Fahlgrod. Or your wipers won't stop me from lighting that beard aflame and seeing if poisoned water can put it out."

 

Marie disappeared upstairs again.

 

"Arland, that's enough!" Rhaine barked, "Keep digging a hole with your mouth and we'll all pay the price!" She turned to the dwarf, "As for you, I would keep silent before making such foolish assumptions ever again. No, Eartheart is not home to any of us but Dagny, but we owe it to her to aid her kinfolk, whether we help the whole city in the process or not. This water problem, as I understand it, has decimated her clan, and you throwing around insults and pointing fingers is entirely useless. Unlike what we have done."

 

"Not enough for me, it's not." Arland shot back. "I'd be more than willing to dig a hole for him, too, if he tries anyth-"

 

"If I might interrupt!" Marie shouted. "My sister's been studying a sample of river water all night now. She says she's found something."

 

"I have." Annette stated. She held a flask in her hand half-full of a viscous black liquid. It seemed to shift and move of its own volition. "This is the toxin in the river." She held the flask up to show them. "I've never seen anything quite like this before. It's some kind of black magic, highly potent. A quick sip from this flask can kill three men. Only somebody with a lot of experience and skill weaving the sort of magic that makes a virulent illness such as this could be responsible. This is a curse from Talona herself, perhaps a creation by one of her priests. The only way to extract this from the water was to evaporate the water, which is now safe to drink."

 

"I assure you," Amendale stated. "That nobody who travels with Rhaine has the capacity within them to perform an act so foul. I know not if any of us have the ability to do so."

 

"I'll bet you feel like a real fool now, don't you, dwarf?" Arland crossed his arms and gave Fahlgrod a baleful stare. "Anything to say for yourself, or shall we bring this information to someone useful?"

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