(art by Romy Jones)
CHAPTER EIGHT
11 Uktar, the Year of the Banner (1368 DR)
Amra’s party continued to grow. In the course of exploring the city, Firnous’ would-be girlfriend, Melly, had made her presence known, and the group had run across the badly wounded Dobyn, one of the missing dwarves.
The decision had been made to get Dobyn back to Wulfgar and the dwarf settlement before proceeding further in the search for the elven cleric Hadarlas, but as they returned to the entrance, Amra found the opening blocked by an unnatural mist…
Amra continued to stare in dismay at the strange mist. “Dobyn, do you recognize this? Imoen?”
Dobyn nodded weakly. “The mists creep throughout the ruins. They appear and shift and disappear. We avoid them.”
Imoen, on the other hand, failed to learn from Amra’s lesson and stuck a curious finger into the mist beyond the doorway. She yanked it back with a wince. “No. No, I don’t.”
“Imoen, don’t do that!” Amra said, exasperated and concerned.
“Well, I thought maybe it just didn’t like you!”
Firnous rolled his eyes.
“Don’t be silly. Who wouldn’t like me?” Amra grinned a little. “I wonder if it can be dispelled... or should we just wait?”
“The mists have been here as long as I’ve lived,” Dobyn said, “and long before that -- so I’m told. I think the gnomes have tried to dispel them. I guess it didn’t work.”
“Charming. We have little choice – is there another way out of this section of the ruins?”
“We usually avoid this section--“ Dobyn coughed and wiped at his mouth. “--this section of the ruins. This is the only safe entrance I know of. But the ruins extend for miles, so maybe farther in...?” He shrugged, clearly tiring himself as he rides along on Auravahinue’s back.
Amra frowned. “No...” Then an idea occurred to her. “Auravinhue, may I ask a great favor of you?”
The horse stepped over to look at Amra with attention.
“If you return to your home in the celestial places, could you perhaps bear someone with you?”
Auravahinue spoke. (In the background, Melly’s eyes widened.) “I can try. But he does not belong in Arvandor.”
Amra nodded. “I know, my friend. But his injuries are grave, and I don’t want to risk waiting until we find another exit.”
Auravahinue nodded in turn. “I will be gone for a while.”
“Thank you.” Amra bowed her head. “You are kinder than you have cause to be with an oaf like me.” She stepped back and turned to Dobyn. “Auravinhue will take you to a place of safety.”
“I don’t understand--“ But suddenly a beam of bright sunlight shined down, illuminating the chamber. By the time it faded, Auravahinue and Dobyn were gone, and presumably Dobyn was much the wiser.
“That’s... some horse,” Melly declared.
Amra smiled. “Yes, he is. But we have work to do.”
“What’s next?” Firnous asked.
“Find the source of the evil, of course,” Amra said. “And put an end to it.”
“She said that a lot,” Imoen tells Firnous and Melly.
“Hush.”
“Lead the way, then,” Firnous said. “Although at some point, if we don’t find a working door, we’re going to have to rest.”
“This is as good a place as any to rest,” Amra pointed out. “Perhaps a little way away from the mists, though.”
“I can take the first watch,” Imoen offered.
“All right. We may need fire incantations later,” Amra suggested as she did her part to prepare a makeshift camp.
Hours later, everyone has rested, although the cold stone floor made for a poor bed. Outside, it must have been mid-morning, but inside, Imoen’s sunrods provided light. The mist still clouded the doorway.
“Naturally,” Amra sighed after finishing her prayers. She gets to her feet and gathers her things. “Is everyone ready to continue?”
There was an exchanging of supplies as water and rations were quickly downed. Imoen nodded. “Are we trying to get back to the point where we found Dobyn?” she asked.
“With any luck, we can pick up the trail from there.”
“That’s my cue, I think.” Firnous stepped forward, and the group ws once more on its way.
Mercifully, no more mummies or spider-swarms were encountered as the group retraced its steps. It took the better part of two hours, winding through the cracked and marred hallways of the vast building complex. But finally Dobyn’s resting spot was found, and beyond loomed an unexplored section of the ruins.
Firnous had everyone wait while he scoured the nearby area for footprints in the dust. After a long stretch of minutes, he found some. “More dwarves,” he announced.
“Well done.” Amra followed the discovered footprints as best she could. “Imoen, and then Melly. Firnous, you bring up the rear, if you please.”
“I can cope,” the boy stated flatly. Melly seems gladdened by his proximity.
Imoen stepped up close to Amra. She whispered, “If the spiders mummified Agamm, there could be two more mummies out there. Maybe three, if Hadarlas... well....” She didn’t finish the thought.
Amra nodded, her expression troubled. “We’ll see...”
“Firnous will take it hard, I think. He shouldn’t have to see that.”
“I know. If the time comes, perhaps you can help him scout ahead while I tend to things. If.”
“At the rate you’re going, you’re going to rid yourself of all your companions, Amra.”
Amra looked at Imoen and then ahead at the dark hallways.
“All right, all right.” Imoen quieted and redoubled her pace ahead.
The group moved forward. The pair of dwarf tracks -- the missing Beldas’ and Rindol’s, presumably -- didn’t seem exactly fresh, but neither did they seem overly disturbed (although every so often traces of webbing and other marks of spider passage can be found).
And then, Imoen announced, “Look ahead.”
Amra looked down the hallway. The section ahead seemed greatly scarred, far more damaged than the previously explored part of the ruins. The columns were blackened by fire (or magic). Some teetered precariously, missing stones and looking all but unable to support the weight of the massive stone ceiling above. Rents in the flooring lead down into blackness.
Amra peered down into one of the rents. “Maybe there was a dragon,” she said quietly. “I’ll go first. Melly, you come next – after I say it’s clear.”
“I will, Lady Amra,” Melly agreed.
Amra smiled and then cautiously started forward, keeping an eye on the columns and the rents as best she can.
Firnous dug in his pack for rope, just in case, while Amra set forth across the treacherous stretch of floor. The big cracks in the stone flooring ran in all directions, as if the earth itself had been powerfully jolted beneath the foundations of the building, but Amra was able to discern a walkable path through their midst. With effort, she managed to cross the worst of the rents, leaving her standing about 40 feet away from the others.
“Okay... Melly, it’s your turn – slowly and carefully,” Amra said, ready to move to her help if she needs it.
“Melly, wait,” Firnous countered.
Melly paused.
Amra raised an eyebrow.
Firnous called out to Amra. “If I weight the rope, can you catch it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“One moment,” Firnous said, and he set to work tying one end of the rope to one of Imoen’s unused sunrods. “Here it comes!” He held onto his end of the rope with one hand, sending the sunrod-laden end sailing across the crevasses.
Amra leaned forward and plucked the rope out of the air. She untied the sunrod and then wrapped the rope around her forearm. “Good thinking.”
“Thanks, Amra!” Firnous called out. “Go on, Melly.” And the girl, and then Imoen behind, managed to pick their way over to Amra’s side.
“Who’s going to hold the rope for Firnous?” Melly asked, her worry for the boy outweighing her sense.
“No one needs to,” Amra said gently. “Don’t worry.”
Firnous released his end of the rope and began to set his feet to Amra’s path. He got halfway across when crumbling stone gives out beneath his weight and he tottered.
Amra pulled quickly while Melly stifled a gasp.
As he fell, Firnous was able to reach out and grab the rope. He disappeared from sight, sinking into one of the crevices, but Amra could still feel his weight on the rope.
“Imoen, brace me!” Amra yelled as she tries to dig in her heels.
Imoen ran forward to help Amra belay the rope. Melly, grasping about, threw her arms around Imoen’s waist as an additional anchor.
“Firnous! Can you hear me?”
“Yes!”
“Hold tight, we’ll pull you up.” Amra tried to pull the rope back.
Step by step, Amra (aided by Imoen and Melly) managed to haul Firnous back up to solid ground.
“Are you okay?”
Firnous came up with a face full of soot and grit. His arms and hands were scraped from clawing at rough rock, but there was a relieved smile on his face. “Thanks to the three of you.”
“We’ll be in your debt again soon enough, I’m sure.” Amra stepped aside to let Melly offer her own comments, verbal or otherwise.
“I’ll work on that,” Firnous said, bent forward, hands on thighs, trying to catch his breath.
Melly wet a cloth and started dabbing at his scratches and scrapes.
When that was (eventually) done, Amra turned her attention to the tunnels ahead.
“This makes for a break in the foot trail, I’ll bet,” Imoen said, looking around.
“Perhaps. Wait here.” Amra cautiously approached the rift Firnous nearly fell down, and looked into it, searching for any webs.
The rifts in the floor were dark, but Amra’s keen eyes caught gleams of small web strands in a few places with various cracks. “I wonder...”
“What are you thinking?” Imoen called, still standing where Amra bid her stay.
“We may have to go down, not ahead. I’m not sure.” Amra knelt down and concentrated, calling on Vandria for guidance.
It took a few moments to be sure, but nothing sinister from the crevices registered to Amra’s mental sense. “No, that’s not the way,” she finally declared.
“The area ahead is still pretty damaged,” Imoen said, “but it’s not as bad as what we just crossed. At least, not the part I can see.”
“Good.” Amra took the lead as the group started forward again. The footing was not the best, but with effort, progress was made. Firnous eventually reacquired the dwarf tracks. “I think they passed through here.” And then a dead gray spider as large as horse fell from above, clamping its mandibles on Firnous’ arm. Not surprisingly, he screamed.
Amra pivoted and thrust her holy symbol at the monstrosity, but the spider seemed wholly unfazed.
“My arm!” Firnous cried. “Get it off!”
Melly screamed, to punctuate his point.
Iralenmaska flashed in the darkness. Despite putting all her strength into the blow, it seemed to do little more than irritate the creature. Amra glared and shifted back, ready to strike again.
Imoen raised her hand crossbow and quickly puts a bolt to it, but in the fray of the unexpected combat, her shot bounced harmlessly off the spider’s chitinous mottled hide.
Melly screamed some more.
The spider released Firnous from its clacking mouth-parts. The boy fell to the ground, his arm dripping a puddle of ill-hued blood, as the spider turned on Amra.
The last thing Amra saw was the spider’s mandibles spreading wide, as the creature’s noxious breath exhaled in her face....
There was pain, and blackness....
And then she woke up, bandaged and her armor removed. A haggard looking Imoen was there, as are Firnous and Melly... and an unfamiliar dwarf.
Amra squinted and sat up slowly. She immediately regreted it and winced. “What – “
”Amra!” Imoen looked greatly relieved as her friend stirred.
Amra managed a smile. “Imoen.”
“We’re all here. We’re all right. More or less,” Imoen said.
“I’m glad. What happened?” She glanced at the dwarf, then back at Imoen with a faint questioning expression.
“Oh. That.”
“Yes, that...”
Imoen grinned. She motioned the dwarf over. He was middle-aged for a dwarf, with dark hair with silver streaks. A large patch of his beard was missing, and he had a livid scar along one cheek. In motion, he hobbled, and Amra came to see that he was moving with the aid of a crutch, one leg elevated off the ground.
“This is Rindol. It turns out he’s a cleric of...?”
“Moradin,” the dwarf supplied. “Moradin.”
“Well met, brother Rindol. And my thanks.”
“You’re welcome, friend. You had foul luck running into that spider.”
“Indeed. Is it dead?”
“No, no. We’ve had no such luck as that,” Rindol said. “As it was, I barely managed to help your friends when they were running and screaming with you in tow.”
“I did the bulk of the screaming,” Melly announced with forced pride. “That’s how he found us.”
“There’s no shame in it. I should tell you of some of my early misadventures one day,” Amra said. “Or my latter-day misadventures, which you know all about, really.” She managed to get back to her feet. “Where is – Beldas?”
“He’s dead, poor lad,” Rindol said. “The spiders killed him, and then I had to kill him again. Well, it wasn’t him the second time. That’s what I tell myself.”
“I’m sorry,” Amra said, eyes downcast. “You set him free to join the battles and bravery in the halls of your ancestors.” She looked up again. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “It’s little comfort, is it?”
“You’re kind. It helps a little. Not enough.” Rindol smiled sadly. “My luck here hasn’t been the best. It’s a bit of an embarrassing tale. You’re not in a mood to race off, are you?”
“I’m barely in a mood to hobble off,” Amra confessed.
“You and me both. Well, then.... The four of us -- you know there were four, I take it? -- entered the ruins to find the elf the gnomes sent. Wulfgar had some fool notion that the elf meant ill -- which proved false, as it turned out.”
Amra nodded for him to continue.
“Swarms attacked us and cut off Beldas and me from Agamm and Dobyn. Imoen here tells me Dobyn survived, thanks to your care.” Rindol nodded in gratitude. “Beldas and I kept running, but we were attacked by the big spider that attacked you.”
“Foul thing,” Amra spat out.
Rindol pointed to the scar on his face and the patch empty of beard. “The spider left me with this and sent me sprawling. I would surely have died if it hadn’t been for the elf.”
“Hadarlas? Where is he? And Beldas?”
“The elf -- Hadarlas, it seems -- heard our plight and attacked the beast. Did you notice the gashes in the creature’s flanks? That wasn’t Beldas or I -- the thing has a skin thick as stone, although now I know the trick.”
“What is the trick?” Amra asked curiously.
“I saw your elf friend bless his weapon before he struck. I’m not that adept in the ways of my temple, mind you, but even I know that sort of blessing.”
Amra sighed. “The gods must laugh at our folly. I should have known better.”
Rindol made a dismissive wave with his free hand. “The gods let us live so we can learn. Anyway, between the wound and the poison, I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was alone. Both Beldas and Hadarlas were gone. Later, I had to put down Beldas’ mummy. Perhaps the spider had already killed him by the time your elf arrived to help us.”
“I’m sorry about your friend,” Amra said, flushing as she realized she asked about his fate twice. “We must find Hadarlas – one way or another.”
“I haven’t seen him again,” Rindol said, “not since that one fight, and then we had no time to speak. It took me a while to recover from that, and then again from my fight with Beldas, and by then the mists had moved in, and I’ve been working in the library.”
“Working on what?”
“Trying to find a way out of here -- what else?” Rindol looked down at his mangled leg. “That work is facing a bit of a setback now, though.” ...
Melly’s face clouded. “Tell Amra why, Goodman Rindol.”
Amra frowned expectantly.
“You just did what I told you to, lass. There’s no blame in it for you,” Rindol told the girl.
“What happened?”
“Well, by the time I got to you and your friends,” Rindol said, “the boy was barely fending off the spider. Imoen was throwing whatever magic she had, but even with my help, the spider would have been too much for us. So I called to Melly here to help me push at one of the weak columns. I thought maybe we could bring down part of the ceiling and make a barrier.”
“I see. How completely are we sealed off?”
“Pretty well. I think we could clear a path out that way, if we needed to, but we brought a bit more of the ceiling down than we meant to,” Rindol said.
“Rindol went to stand between the spider and Imoen,” Melly said. “And when I pushed the column, part of the ceiling fell on Rindol’s leg,” she adds miserably.
Amra offered the girl a reassuring smile. “It’s hardly your fault, Melly. Fortune is mocking us. You certainly didn’t mean to hurt Rindol.”
“Like I said,” Rindol told Amra, agreeing, “I called out to the girl to push, and she pushed. She did just what I told her. It wasn’t her fault. She saved the lot of us.”
Amra turned to the dwarf. “I may be able to help ease your wounds.”
Rindol grinned. “The demand for healing has been a bit high lately. I’d appreciate whatever you can do.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
“Even if you can’t patch me up,” Rindol said, “maybe you can keep searching in the library.”
“I know little dwarvish, but I’ll try. Is there anything in particular to search for?”
“Well, first, it was a mannish city, so I don’t think you’ll have a problem. We dwarves didn’t come here until after it was in ruins -- drawn by the stone, you see. ‘It sure beats quarrying!’ we thought. As for what you’re looking for, it’s more on the mists. I already know a little.”
“What can you tell us?”
“Have you ever heard of the Calishites?”
“A little. They dwell far in the south of Faerûn.”
“That’s the folk. Well it seems that they took a notion to conquer this city, and not surprisingly, the people who lived here resisted.”
Amra nodded, slightly puzzled, but waited for Rindol to continue.
“Eventually, the Calishite armies pressed up to the city walls -- they were still standing then, of course -- and the Calishites laid siege. The people inside the city had to do something. The mists weren’t an accident, you see. They were made.”
“And they still endure, all this time later?”
“We’ve both seen them.” Rindol shrugged as best he could on his crutch. “I’m not quite sure how they were supposed to help. A cloud where your enemies can’t see and can’t escape, sure, but the mists wax and wane over the site. Seems pretty unreliable to me. But like you say, they still endure, even long after the battle is over.”
Imoen suddenly had a thoughtful expression on her face.
“Perhaps their conjurers had more control over them. It seems the second of our – what are you thinking, Imoen?”
Imoen smiled. “What you’re thinking, I think. Someone -- or something -- had to be in control. Magic like that doesn’t just happen.”
Amra smiled back. “Well, our course seems clear. Rest and research, and then press on. We must find Hadarlas.”
“Your friend might have gotten out before the mists closed in. I hope that’s what happened.” Rindol didn’t mention the grislier alternative. “In any case, there are chronicles of the siege in the library. I can give you directions there.”
“We’d be doubly in your debt.”
“I owe Hadarlas a debt myself. Helping you, I can repay it, at least secondhand. Rest yourself now, and when you feel ready, I’ll point you on your way.”
“Thank you, master Rindol.”
Another great chapter, along with some more excellent art :)