Session 4 (part 2): Blights by night.

On the morning following their lengthy conversation regarding ends and means, the elves and their halfling companion took up their ration-laden packs and left behind the comfort of Anathar’s Dell, to complete the final leg of their journey toward the village of Oakhurst. Throughout their travels from Dagger Falls to this point, the Desertsmouth Mountains had always been visible towering above them to the right. Now their view of those forbidding peaks was becoming obscured as the trail wound around to skirt the Spiderhaunt Woods, passing between that dark forest and the westernmost edge of Cormanthor, so that the travellers found themselves in a narrow plain only a few miles wide, with deep green walls to either side in the distance—a sight that increased Lanatil’s level of comfort as much as it decreased Ogy’s.

Just as the sun reached its zenith, a savage sound came from off the trail beside them, a sort of snort combined with a growl. It was a wild boar. The slavering swine was slightly taller than Ogy and several times as heavy, its powerful stout body covered in coarse, grayish-black fur. Enraged at having been disturbed by the elves’ passage, the creature leveled its tusks and began to charge. Ogy hurled a dagger at it, and ran around to hide behind the monk without even waiting to see that he had missed his mark. Cameron uttered a spell intended to put the animal to sleep so they could pass by without a fight, but the boar’s intense rage was such that the magic did not subdue it. Seeing that they would have no choice but to kill the creature, Yonnis strode forward and sank his longsword deep into the angry pig’s flank. Now even angrier, it lunged at the ranger but failed to touch him. Yonnis kept the beast’s attention, continuing to strike with his sword while Elvis pierced its shoulder with a crossbow bolt. The boar was so badly wounded that any creature of less tenacious will would have been unconscious, but it continued to thrash at Yonnis, who deflected or dodged its dangerous tusks. Finally Nameless, who had not yet succeeded in laying a hand on the boar, struck home with a bone-shattering kick that caused it finally to lie still.

That night the group pitched their newly acquired tents for the first time. This immediately triggered one of those bizarrely vociferous arguments in which the two Ethril brothers were wont to engage, this time over whether they would or would not sleep in the same tent. The party ultimately decided to pitch the two tents side by side, with the two openings facing in the same direction. One tent was occupied by Yonnis, Elvis, and Nameless, the other by Lanatil, Ogy, and Cameron. Following the usual schedule of watches, the group settled down for their night’s rest.

It was a breezy night, and the wind could be heard rustling through the surrounding brush and the nearby forests. The wee hours of the morning found Elvis and Ogy on watch together, striving to tune out this background noise to hear whatever sounds might betray the approach of some predator. Suddenly they became aware of four figures whose approach had been indistinguishable from the rustling of leaves. At first they looked like nothing more than masses of gnarled, blackened twigs, such as might have been blown their way like tumbleweeds in the wind. But the twigs had a vaguely humanoid shape. They were each about four feet tall, with long arms ending in needle-like claws, and legs that actually walked with a sort of shuffling gait like light branches dragged through the grass. Two of these blighted creatures were facing each of the two sentries, who had become aware of their presence only in the instant before finding themselves under attack by what seemed like sharpened sticks flailing back and forth. Ogy felt a searing pain as the blight on his left side pierced his arm with one of its claws, leaving behind a vitriolic sap that continued to burn for seconds after the wound had been inflicted. Elvis had suffered a similar blow from one of the two twig creatures facing him. The two badly wounded sentries turned and dove back into their respective tents, shouting to awaken their companions and take refuge behind them.

One of the blights pushed the tent flap aside with one of its arms, and with the other reached through to slash Cameron just as he was awakening on the floor inside. The sorceror responded by sending a magic missile from his fingertips into the creature’s midsection. The impact sounded like a twig breaking underfoot, but the blight was not destroyed. Seeing this creature seemingly formed from the stuff of the Wood, Lanatil stood up and tried to address it in Sylvan, asking whether it could understand him. All he got in response was a wooden claw swung at his head, after which the druid decided to continue the conversation with his scimitar. Cameron had already grabbed his mace, and now landed a blow that smashed the creature into twigs of the ordinary lifeless variety. Its fellow, however, was already reaching into the tent, swinging its claws at the two elves while the wounded halfling hid in the corner.

Meanwhile, at the other tent, Yonnis had woken up just in time to see sharpened twig arms thrusting at him from the other side of the tent flap. He drew his longsword and slashed back, immediately chopping one of the brittle creatures into two lifeless gnarled masses. Nameless too leapt to his feet and smashed through one of the blights with his fist just as though it had been one of the practice boards back at the monestary. Emerging from the tent, Yonnis now cut down the last remaining blight at the entrance to Lanatil’s tent. Leaving the now motionless twigs where they had fallen on the ground, those who had been sleeping returned to their rest.

Soon after setting out the next morning, the party reached the Northride, a relatively well-defined road that starts north of Cormanthor in Yulash (just south of Zhentil Keep), passes down through Voonlar and Shadowdale in the the westernmost arms of the forest, and continues southwest between the Spiderhaunt Woods and the Thunder Peaks until it traverses the Shadow Gap and thence to the town of Tilverton. Yonnis told his companions that Oakhurst lay along the Northride only about 15 miles further down, and that they would reach it before nightfall. They were now skirting the southern edge of the Spiderhaunt, a tiny wood compared to vast Cormanthor (of which it had long ago been part), but one whose name the travellers had little desire to test.

Someone in the wood, however, desired to test them. It was an ape. Like most apes, he was huge, heavy, and hirsute. Having recently been deposed from the leadership of his tribe by a larger rival, he was in the mood to assuage his wounded pride by picking on someone of smaller size. This group of scrawny elves (he didn’t even notice the halfling) looked like just the right proving ground for his once-and-future masculine dominance. They at least would bow to him or die, preferably both. Beating his chest and giving his fiercest war cry, the ape ran at them.

Since the ape’s chosen tactic was intimidation rather than stealth, the party had plenty of warning time in which to fire at him as he approached. By the time he had the elves within arm’s length, he had been hit by one of Elvis’s crossbow bolts, a sling bullet of Lanatil’s and an arrow from Yonnis’s shortbow. Not happy about any of this, the ape dealt a vicious blow to Yonnis, who felt as though he had been struck by . . . well, by an ape. Feeling that another such blow would likely split him like a banana, Yonnis withdrew. Elvis, meanwhile, had taken a step back and uttered an incantation that caused flames to shoot forth from his fingertips to singe the ape’s flank. Lanatil drew blood with his scimitar, as did Nameless with a well-placed throw of his javelin. Ogy too came out of hiding long enough to hurl a dagger that embedded itself in the ape’s thigh. The ape decided that Nameless should be the next candidate for banana status, and leapt toward him. In doing so, however, he ignored the druid already beside him, who now dealt him a fatal scimitar blow as he passed by in pursuit of the monk.

Session 4 (part 1): Talk of tents...and Zhents

The sun rose at Anathar’s Dell on the third day before the summer solstice. Lanatil looked with satisfaction at the sorceror he had nursed all the day before. The elongated elven frame before him was at last free of the undeathly inflammation that had threatened to consume it. Cameron was still weak, but another day of rest under Lanatil’s care would do much to restore his strength. When Bon appeared that morning, Elvis asked whether they would be allowed to stay at the Dell another day or two. “Certainly,” Bon answered. “Though you may not want to tarry too long. Your friend the druid said he had been charged with investigating the plague at Oakhurst, and from what I’ve heard it’s a bad one. If you stay here too long, it may be too late to do anything for the village. Oh yes, I have something for you.” Bon handed Elvis a pouch. When he opened it, a pile of green and black gems spilled out onto the wizard’s palm—the remains of the amulet of the Church of Bane. I think you’ll find that whatever magic they bore is gone now,” said Bon. “The dwarves demolished the amulet. The metal they kept as compensation for their labor, but they gave me back these for you.” To be certain, Elvis cast his own spell over the gems, and it was as Bon had said—they had no magic aura. Nor had any minions of the Church sought to gain entry to the Dell the night before.

The group of travellers decided to spend another day at the Dell, to heal and let Cameron regain most of his strength. They sold the Zhentarim breastplate Cameron had been carrying to the head blacksmith of the Dell, a dwarf who offered them a hundred pieces of gold for it. Yonnis suspected that such armor might have fetched a higher price in other places, but none of them had any use for it, and they had no wish to carry it any further. They discussed what provisions they should pack for the final leg of their journey to Oakhurst. The village was only two days journey away, but they were concerned that the plague might mean there would be no wholesome food to eat even once they arrived. So each of them packed as many rations as he could carry, particularly Nameless, whose lack of armor allowed him to devote most of his prodigious strength to the task of carrying food. Nameless and Ogy also discussed the possibility of encountering vampires. At Ogy’s urging, the group decided to equip themselves with two tents that they could sleep in at night. Up to now they had slept under the stars, and the warm Kythorn nights would certainly have allowed them to continue. Ogy knew, however, that vampires are unable to enter a dwelling without being invited, and hoped that tents would qualify under this rule. He also insisted that they stock up on garlic before setting out again.

Ogy also playfully suggested that as long as they were staying an extra day at the Dell, he might try his hand at some sleight, and see whether another performance might not create enough misdirection to allow him to “acquire” an interesting object or two. Yonnis told him not to think about it. “The Dell is under the protection of the Harpers. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that Bon is one of them. If you go trying to pilfer here, they’ll have your head.” Ogy replied, “Don’t lecture me about Harpers. I know who they are. In fact, I happen to know that Kessla back in Dagger Falls is one of them. Anyway, Bon doesn’t seem all that scary to me.” But the rogue nevertheless acquiesced, and kept his fingers to himself.

Elvis asked the others, “So what is it we’re going to do when we get to Oakhurst? Who is it that has business there?” Yonnis suggested that it was time for each member of the party to explain to the others what he was seeking to accomplish. “This will let us plan better, and pooling information will enable us to help each other. Otherwise any one of us might well miss the significance of things that would be of importance to someone else’s goal.” They all agreed, though the halfling seemed unenthusiastic.

Nameless began. “I am sent to investigate the site where a very powerful vampire was killed. All I know is that this took place in some sort of ancient fortress, now buried at the bottom of a ravine a few days’ march south of Oakhurst. There is reason to fear this vampire may have arisen again, and I am to find out whether this is the case.”

“And what if it is arisen?” asked one of the others. “Are you supposed to fight it?”

“No. I’ve been warned that it is too powerful to for me to fight, and that if I find it arisen, I must get away and report this.”

“Too powerful for you, but what about all of us together?”

“I don’t know, but very possibly.”

Now it was Yonnis’s turn. He told the others that he had been to Oakhurst before, and had completed part of his own training there several years earlier. With his mentor, he had helped the villagers organize a militia and led it to exterminate a tribe of orcs that had been menacing the area. Now his guild had asked him to come back to the area and see whether things had remained peaceful. The villagers had recently discovered silver in the hills near where the orcs once had their stronghold, and this was thought likely to attract trouble. Specifically, there was concern about a group of goblins known to have a base somewhere in the foothills southeast of Oakhurst.

Lanatil reiterated that he had been asked by Zinn, the speaker of the Quercus Circle, to come to Oakhurst to investigate the plague. “We followers of Silvanus are oath-bound to banish disease. Most people think of plagues as natural occurrences. But Zinn taught me that this is false, that they occur always as the result of some artificial or arcane tampering with nature. So I am to find out what aberration has led to the plague at Oakhurst, and stop it if I can, or report it to my Circle.”

Elvis said that he had been sent by a wizard’s college in Silverymoon to investigate a legend pieced together from various historical sources, about an ancient cult of dragon-worshippers who apparently once had a temple in the foothills south of Oakhurst. At this point Ogy interrupted, “Oh tell the truth now! You’re not some designated emissary from the school, you’re just an ex-janitor trying to pay off a student loan by finding a rare book you can give to the school library!” Elvis looked at the halfling with annoyance. “Well, I see you’ve been living up to your lack of scruples by rummaging through my private papers. Yes, it’s true that my ultimate goal is to find some unique artifact that I can present to the Lady’s College in order to complete my standing in the institution.”

Cameron’s ears had perked up at the mention of dragons. He told the others, “I have dragon blood, you know. All sorcerors do. My teacher Mikhee told me so. That’s why we have this special gift of drawing Mystra’s power from the Weave naturally, as opposed to wizards who have to memorize spells again every day. He said that I should seek to learn as much about dragons as I can, and treat dragon-related artifacts as treasures of greatest value. Other than that, I’m not trying to accomplish anything specific. I just want to develop my powers, and get home with enough treasure to afford a familiar.”

At this point everyone turned to the halfling. “So you all want to know what my quest is, do you? Well...here it is.” And he pulled from his sleeve a folded piece of parchment. “A few days before you lot arrived, I saw some dolt trying to nail this onto the outside of the Red Rock. Right on top of Kessla’s new paint job. I knew she’d be furious, so I beaned him in the back of the head with a nice rock. He ran off, and I grabbed this.” He unfolded it and showed it to them:


Let it be known that the Hucrele family of Oakhurst offers

A REWARD

To any who can locate two lost family members,

Talgen and Sharwyn Hucrele.

250 gp each for returning them to Oakhurst in good mind and body;

or 125 gp each for finding and returning the gold signet rings worn by them.

See Kerowyn Hucrele in Oakhurst for further information.


“I might have guessed your interest would be entirely mercenary,” remarked Elvis. “I think it’s about time we all learned a bit more about your background.”

“Oh do you now, Mr. Silveryjanitor. Well you see, I grew up my whole life in Dagger Falls while it was occupied by the Zhentarim. My family and I were part of the resistance, which is why I learned to be such a good sneak. I helped people like Yonnis’s Harpers get the goods they needed on the Zhents and their henchmen. In fact, my proudest exploit is the time I smuggled a scorpion into the bedchamber of Guthbert Golthammer, the last of the Zhent-appointed constables.”