Tales of Faerun

[tokyobiohazard]

Feeling slightly unsure of how exactly to handle this beast, Ianthe racked her brains until she came up with something she'd at least like to test out. As a head snapped at her, she jumped back and leaped onto it, holding on by shoving her scimitars into its forehead. A thick layer of skin and muscle, which seemed to have been burned by the acid quite effectively, was easily sliced through, but her swords glanced off what must have been the skull.

 

The hydra whipped its head quickly toward the ground, trying to shake Ianthe off, but to no avail. She shimmied farther down and shoved one of her scimiars into the back of the hydra's neck, just below the base of the skull. The head twitched, then limply fell with enough force to send Ianthe flying backward onto the ground. Both of her scimitars were still lodged in the head she had just killed.

 

"Well... It worked," Ianthe mumbled, feeling her palms and knees begin to burn. "I killed a head without giving it a place to grow back..."

 

Reona rushed from behind Rhaine and grabbed hold of Ianthe's shoulders, shaking her back and forth, "Are you that stupid?! Why would you do that?! I don't want to watch my sister die like that!"

 

Ianthe smiled and embraced the girl, "But I didn't die." Pulling away, she examined her hands. There wasn't much damage. The first few layers of her skin had burned off, but that would heal quickly enough.

 

Another of the heads snapped in their direction, hissing like a snake. Perhaps all Ianthe had done was made the thing angry...

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine dispelled what remained of her Storm of Vengeance and its aftereffects with a simple wave of her hand - the acid, rain, and storm cloud dissolving in violet sparks. She saw Ianthe's clever trick, but she scowled at the recklessness of it. However, the Doomguide did not have time to remark as another head shot outwards at her, mouth wide open. She reflexively thrust upward, the point of Touch of Death piercing the roof of its mouth and driving into its brain. As she jerked the blade free, she slipped on the now bloody and muddy ground, sliding straight for the hydra's remaining fore-paw.

[mythicdawnmaster]

Xallistine let loose a crackle of dark energy from his finger tips, the powerful necromantic spell coursing through the air, hitting the Hydra in it's chest. It was a powerful Enervation bolt, severely weakening the Hydra, sapping at it's already waning strength.

 

-----------

 

As her demonic companions decimated the remaining bandits in the old fort, the witch activated a mechanism in the old throne. It rose off the ground, revealing a set of stairs built into it's back, leading deep underground. Ravenna made her way down the dark tunnel, every step she took, a pair of torches on either side of the narrow tunnel lit, leading the way.

 

It led her deep under the fort, in just one narrow corridor, only the sound of the flickering flames made any noise at all, everything else was deathly quiet, and the air was in small supply.

 

Eventually, the tunnel stopped at a large stone door, it's central mechanism the shape of a hand. Ravenna placed her palm upon the carved hand, and a sharp point stuck into her hand, drawing blood, which drained into the door itself, and eventually, after the sound of gears whirring, it opened.

 

Ravenna stepped carefully inside the chamber she was now in, it was adorned with pedestals of gold, and ornate ornamentations everywhere. On the back wall was another door... The tomb of Miora. But first Ravenna paced the well furnished, but ancient chamber. Dotted around the room were journal scraps, from her mother, detailing her life bringing up Ravenna and her brother. Ravenna's face was one of sorrow, her eyebrows high as she looked around, childhood memories flooding back to her.

 

Upon approaching a desk in one corner of the room, tears swelled in the Witch's eyes, as she stared at an old portrait of her Brother. She ran her hand over the glass sadly, and muttered "I'm sorry brother..." And then looked at the other portraits of her father, her mother, even a family portrait, and journals detailing the sad passing of Ravenna's father.

 

Tears escaped the eyes of the ancient sorceress, trickling down her face, and falling off her chin.

[Naktis]

Aedan frowned. I'll show you squeamish. He thought but said nothing. "If you're done... enjoying your drink I'd suggest we follow Ravenna." The Fallen suggested as he cleaned the bloody blade of his weapon to one of the corpses that lay nearby. When he was done with the blade he went to look for the witch.

 

The beast was now noticeably weakened, thus attacking it was much easier. Nawen slashed the hydra's back with her shortswords, blood pouring out of the wound.

[Ithildin]

“No!” Echo suddenly yelled in her sleep. Mahira was standing watch, and in less than a heartbeat, she covered the short distance between their bedrolls and placed a gentle hand on the halfling’s shoulder. Echo’s arm flew up and smacked Mahira across the cheekbone.

 

“Wake up, Echo, you’re dreaming.”

 

“Snakes!” came the abrupt answer, before the halfling was fully awake. “No, what … what happened? Did I just hit you? Are you hurt?”

 

“You were having a nightmare … something about ‘snakes’. More serpentine creatures, it seems. And you didn’t hurt me.” The Calishite smiled reassuringly and asked, “Do you remember details this time?”

 

“N-no,” she stammered. “Oh. Yes. There was a passageway, very narrow, and – what do you mean, ‘this time’?”

 

“You don’t remember? Dragon once; another time, a hydra.”

 

“When did this happen?” Echo asked incredulously.

 

“When we camped near Zazesspur, you dreamed of a dragon, but the hydra was … as far back as Memnon, perhaps even before that. You were terrified; I thought you would remember.”

 

The halfling was silent for a moment, and then said, “You’re making this up. Telling stories.”

 

Mahira smirked, and touched her friend’s cheek. “No story of mine could possibly be better than the truth; you have dreamed of serpents, and more than once. But please, let’s not quarrel … do you think you could go back to sleep if you tried?”

 

“No,” Echo replied, “I can’t sleep when I know I have an audience.” She glared at Mahira accusingly; the Calishite made a wry face in return.

 

“Just try. I promise I won’t listen to you.”

 

“No, you rest now, and I’ll keep watch.” The halfling rose and turned away, knuckling sleep from her eyes.

 

One would think we were sisters from our bickering alone, thought Mahira, even if I were pale, blonde, and blue-eyed. She returned to her bedroll and lay down, pulled her blanket up to her chin, and admired the few stars visible through the forest canopy. They were as clear and bright as crystals, though not nearly so lovely as in Calimshan where there were no trees to obstruct the view. Eventually the sounds of the distant river, wind in the leaves, and their ponies’ breathing lulled her to sleep.

 

* * *

 

A little while later, Echo heard the sound of gentle snoring and knew her companion had fallen asleep. She retrieved Mahira’s map, lit a candle in the embers of the campfire, and peered down at the letters and pictographs. It took a moment to find the place she was looking for: Loudwater, not very far from their campsite. She hoped to have a decent meal when morning came, if Mahira would only loosen the purse strings a little.

 

The unmistakable sound of distant hooves approaching suddenly disturbed her dreams of breakfast. Her hearing was better than Mahira’s, and she hurriedly shook the Calishite awake. “Someone’s coming,” Echo hissed, extinguishing her candle. Mahira leapt to her feet and kicked dirt into the dying fire to hide its embers. As the two women went to calm their ponies, they could barely make out the silhouettes of magnificent black horses as they thundered past, pulling a black carriage and heading roughly northwest. “Certainly in a hurry,” Echo whispered. “I wonder what’s happened.”

 

“This time of night, can’t be anything good,” murmured her friend. “They very nearly rode us down in the dark … the driver must have the eyes of a panther, to avoid the trees.”

 

“Perhaps there is no driver, and the horses navigate on their own,” Echo replied.

 

“I doubt that, unless there is some devilry at work.” Mahira listened to the sound of hoofbeats becoming more and more distant. “Well, I suppose neither of us will get any more rest. What were you doing with the candle?”

 

“I had your map. I wanted to see how close we are to Loudwater.”

 

“It isn’t very far, but I don’t want to travel before daybreak. Breakfast will be cold; I don’t feel secure enough now to risk building a new fire.” She heard the halfling’s disappointed sigh. “What’s wrong? You wanted something cooked?”

 

“Can we … couldn't we please find an inn, and have breakfast there?”

 

Mahira considered. “Well, I suppose we might do that. But we should wait; I have a bad feeling about that carriage somehow, and we ought to give it a wide berth. They’re likely headed to Loudwater themselves.”

 

Echo grinned to herself in the dark, eagerly anticipating her next meal.

[AurianaValoria1]

The paw of the hydra slammed back into the mud as it tried to turn a few heads towards Nawen. However, with two of the heads already hanging useless and its body bleeding, burning, and electrocuted, movement was becoming difficult for the beast. Now was the time to finish it.

 

Rhaine regained her balance and dashed at the hydra, shoving Touch of Death into its chest with both hands and not stopping until the blade was buried up to its hilt. The creature let out an unearthly bellow, and as the Doomguide pulled her blade free, its lifeblood rushed out of the wound. It was only a matter of seconds before the beast crumpled onto the wet earth, all of its heads dropping to the ground...though one still twitched in a grotesque manner.

 

The half-elf stood there, panting as she gazed down on the dead hydra. Her scarlet hair was matted to her forehead, her breeches and arming doublet covered in dirt, mud, and blood - some hers and some the hydra's. Her broken wing hung limply from her back, a few clumps of feathers mangled or missing entirely. After the adrenaline of battle began to wear off, the overwhelming pain came throbbing back, accompanied with sharp stabbing sensations in her left shoulder blade.

[mythicdawnmaster]

Xallistine put away his wand, and inspected the body of the beast with great interest... what a fearsome beast it would be, if merged with an illithid tadpole. he turned his gaze to the Injured Rhaine, asn he walked over "My lady, you are certainly inured... allow me to try and ease your pain." he said, readying a healing spell.

 

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

 

Ravenna clenched her hands into a fist, and forced herself to cease the Tears... no, she was too close to her goal to cry now... she had to be cold, she had to be strong to succeed. She kissed her finger, and pressed it against the Family portrait, and then, she turned on her heel, walking over to the large set of doors at the back of the chamber.

 

She forced them open, and lit the torches within with her Pyromantic skill. It was a circular chamber, and in the centre a casket of glass, the Body of Miora entombed within, dressed in Ornate red robes, a golden mask covering her face. Her skeletal hands clutched a staff that lay with her body, and atop her head a great crown of ruby rested. The chamber was adorned with more pedestals, atop each of them an amulet of perpetual youth. But what caught Ravenna's eye was the stunning piece of craftsmanship that adorned her dead mothers neck... The eye, so beautiful, and it gave off immense pulses of power, felt on a magical level.

 

Ravenna took an amulet of perpetual youth and muttered it's engraving, restoring her youth- Albeit only slightly, and the effects would certainly not last for more than an hour.

"My Mother... The Architect of Gods falling... dead." Ravenna said, as she looked at the dignified corpse of her late mother. "All of these generations of Thayan wizards, searching every inch of Thay for you... But you buried yourself here... To keep your Artifact hidden... You were right to hide it away... but i need it now." The Witch said softly, as though her mother were still alive.

 

The Body of Miora slowly rose, shifting through the glass as though it were water, floating , the trail of her robe brushing the coffin. Ravenna stepped back in surprise, as the form of Miora descended in front of her tomb.

 

"Daughter... My sweet, Beautiful child... You live." Came the voice of the undead Miora, as it was in life, deep and commanding, yet still... feminine. "I never did know for sure what i imparted upon you would work... yet it did... My beautiful darling... it did." The Lich said, caressing Ravenna's cheek with her hand. Ravenna looked at her mother with compassion

 

"Mother... I have missed you." The witch said, embracing the undead being in-front of her. In a Macabre way, it was a heart warming encounter.

 

"You learnt about my eye? I should have known you would dig up the secrets Ravenna, you always were clever."

 

"I need it mother... I plan to destroy a god, and your Eye is the only artifact capable of binding one." Ravenna said to her mother, gazing at the solid mask of gold that covered what would have been a horrifying, rotten face.

Miora hesitated... the amulet was a true mistake, she knew if it was used there would be serious consequences... but in her Ancient daughter, she could feel a great burning desire for this goal, and could sense a mind of darkness... It would certainly not bode well for whomever it was Ravenna was targeting, But the Lich would take great pleasure in seeing what ruin her daughter would bring to the heavens, and what she would do with what she gained from it.

 

"Very well Ravenna... The Eye is yours... it is untested, there is a chance it may not work on gods... But i know it will." The truly ancient undead spoke, taking the ornate clasp off from around her neck, and handing the eye to Ravenna. "Whatever your intentions Ravenna... fulfil them, use all of that darkness inside you... and do so with my blessing... I love you daughter of mine, you surpass me in many ways... and whatever comes, i shall watch over you." Miora finished "Remember... the eye is unstable in it's charge, it will hold a god... but for how long, and how many times, i do not know. Go forth in your quest, and complete it." She commanded.

 

"One more thing mother... i seek an ancient dagger that can carve immortal flesh... perhaps you have researched it?" Ravenna inquired, seeking to get as much from this encounter as she could.

 

"My notes hold details of many artifacts... but i feel you already know where this dagger is, don't you?"

 

"I have a trail... locations... it is.." Ravenna was cut off by her mother.

 

"Broken, scattered, lost... yes it is indeed in this very forest... although finding the pieces may prove a challenge."

 

"A challenge i am willing to take... rest well mother, for with your power, i shall succeed." Ravenna remarked, turning from the chamber, as her mother faded back to being a silent corpse.

Edited October 3, 2012 by mythicdawnmaster

[Naktis]

Nawen whipped the blood off her shortswords and went to pick up her bow. She was lousy with a bow but at least some arrows hit the creature. She wanted to extract something from the beast before they left. Someone would pay a lot of gold for the ingredients. Hydra's are not exactly easy to defeat but at this time Rhaine needed help.

 

She approached the Doomguide, the look of concern on her face. "Is there anything I could do to help?" She asked and looked at Xallistine.

 

Aedan walked around in the fort, looking for Ravenna. He hated this place, they should burn it to the ground when they'll do whatever they suppose to do here.

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine winced as she leaned down to put Touch of Death back into its scabbard. She managed to hiss, "I...can heal it fully...I just...need someone to...set it..."

 

She felt a tickling sensation on her right arm and saw that her shoulder was bleeding from several scrapes, likely caused by her rough impact on the pebbled ground. When she glanced back up, she noticed that Nawen's left arm was bleeding, the leathers of the drow's armor torn and tinged with a greenish ooze.

 

"Nawen..." the Doomguide pointed, her eyes wide, "the hydra...had poisoned fangs. My amulet protects me, but...you...?"

[Ithildin]

It was hard to believe someone so small could inhale so much food. Mahira had barely managed to put away half of what she’d ordered; Echo, still working on her own breakfast, already had a covetous eye on Mahira’s leftovers. The older woman smiled to herself, and then Echo’s latest nightmare drifted into her mind: snakes, and a narrow passageway.

 

“Have you remembered anything more about your dream, your surroundings … that passageway you spoke of?”

 

Echo swallowed a bite of bread and honey. “It was a tunnel carved through rock, I think. Rough, stony. I don’t recall anything else.” She tore into her meal again. Mahira’s mind wandered; she spotted the innkeeper, and rose to her feet. What was his name? Orm-something … Ormdahl. She crossed the room to speak with him.

 

“I’m sorry, Ormdahl, is it?” she asked hesitantly.

 

“Aye, Ormdahl. What else can I do for you? Is the food to your liking?” He spoke brusquely, and seemed to be sizing her up, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

 

“Yes, I enjoyed it, thanks. About Loudwater’s bookstore, would you happen to know whether it carries – “

 

“Ah, say no more, lass. I barely have time to do any thinking, let alone reading. You’d have to ask the proprietor, name of Daegren, one of them little’uns like your friend there.” He pointed at the table where Echo was thoroughly engrossed in buttering another piece of bread.

 

Mahira lowered her voice and looked directly into the innkeeper’s eyes. “While it’s refreshing to meet someone who knows the difference between a halfling and a human child, I wouldn’t use the word ‘little’un’ in her hearing, if I were you, and she has very keen ears.” Ormdahl’s eyes darted toward Echo, who seemed not to have taken any notice of the conversation. Mahira continued, "Many thanks for Daegren's name; I’ll pay him a visit while my friend finishes breakfast.” While the Calishite returned to her table, the innkeeper adjusted his smock and headed for the kitchen.

 

Echo looked up enquiringly. “Stay and eat,” said Mahira, “and order more if you like. I’m walking to that bookstore we saw along the way.” Knowing Echo’s purse was lighter than hers, she left enough coins on the table to pay for the innkeeper’s hospitality.

 

* * *

Daegren was not a ghostwise halfling, which came as no surprise to Mahira. She knew there were more of Echo’s kind in the world, and that they kept to themselves within the southern forests. She had never seen another ghostwise besides Echo in her lifetime. She recognized the proprietor of Daegren’s Editions Bookstore to be a lightfoot halfling, and one who was unusually long-lived: his hair was silver-gray. He scrutinized the Calishite and her trappings over the rims of his spectacles, as if trying to determine whether she might rob him on the spot.

 

“Good morning, sir. I am called Mahira.”

 

“Good remains to be seen,” he said skeptically. “My name’s Daegren. What brings you to my shop?”

 

“I’m looking for a history of the yuan-ti, those who dwell in the jungles nearest the country of Tashalar. I am, of course, prepared to pay.” She lifted her coin purse and showed it to him, and as she moved, he spotted the crossbow strapped to her back. His demeanor abruptly changed: now he was all business.

 

“Tashalar, famous for its crossbows, yes? Where yours came from, I’ll wager … made from blueleaf wood?”

 

“You’d win the wager.”

 

Daegren smiled and nodded. “Jungles nearest Tashalar – the Black and Mhair – and yuan-ti. Let’s see what I can find.” He crossed the room to a bookshelf, and started rattling off titles under his breath. In less than a minute, he’d finished with the first shelf and moved to another. Mahira did her best not to watch him; she thought it rude to seem impatient with one who was helping her, and especially offensive to stare at a halfling. She knew how Echo felt about such treatment in strange company. “Hmm, My Journeys Around the Sea of Fallen Stars, no … Life Beneath the Sails, likely not … ah, this one, The Snake Pit: Zstulkk Ssarmn and His Iron Ring. That seems promising.” The shopkeeper pulled a leather-bound tome from its shelf, and started flipping through the first pages. “Jungles nearest …”

 

“Tashalar,” Mahira finished for him.

 

“… Tashalar, yes. Capital city, Tashluta,” he muttered, turning another page. Once he had silently skimmed the first few chapters, he showed a page to the Calishite, and said, "Here - this might be the only place in the book where the Black Jungles are mentioned."

 

709 DR: Halflings begin disappearing inside the Southern Lluirwood. Unbeknownst to them, the yuan-ti are using a portal to abduct halflings and take them to the Black Jungles for experimentation.

But that was so long ago … yet the slave trade is very much alive, Mahira thought. She thanked Daegren, paid him, and made a quick exit with the book under her arm. She fervently wished she could do something to restore Echo’s memories of her homeland and family, as there were many forests in the southern regions that made suitable dwellings for the ghostwise. Her friend might have come from the Lluirwood, but there was no way to know for certain.

 

Standing just outside the bookstore, she opened the tome and skimmed page after page, hoping to find something helpful.

 

Zstulkk Ssarmn, a member of the ruthless trade and slaving consortium the Iron Ring …

 

Skullport is a teeming hive of evil that lies beneath Waterdeep, on the third underground level of Undermountain. Considered part of the Underdark, it is a lawless place of slave traders …

 

In their monstrous evil, the yuan-ti continue this mingling of serpentine and human blood, creating two types of agents and servitors who are not quite human nor fully yuan-ti. These servitors are created by essentially the same process. If the process is a success, the result is a tainted one.

"If this is what was attempted with Echo, thank the gods she was not numbered among their successes," muttered Mahira. Flipping back to the book’s first chapter, she found another passage:

 

Yuan-ti typically inhabit subterranean complexes, most often originally built by other races, as the lack of hands in so many of their kind makes building difficult. They may also adopt natural caves, or even build tunnels under the cities of other races. They fill their lairs with traps and with corridors too narrow for anyone but snakes to slither through.

At last, the Calishite believed she understood her companion’s nightmares, the various monstrosities – all serpentine, like the yuan-ti – and the narrow stone passageway. She deduced that wherever Echo had come from, she must have been captured there, abducted, and injured in such a way that her earliest memories were beyond recall. Mahira imagined the yuan-ti keeping the halfling imprisoned for a time beneath the Black Jungles, not an unreasonable distance from Tashluta where Mahira met her for the first time. It was a wonder that Echo had survived, let alone escaped.