25 Mirtul, Year of Three Ships Sailing (1492 D.R.), sometime after highmoon.
I am flying again. The light around me dazzles with its red-gold brilliance. The same undulating crimson dunes stretch out below me. The desert wind is dry and thin but my wings are gloriously strong. I soar higher, rising with the heat in the air.
But I can no longer whole-heartedly inhabit this rapture. Thoughts of reeking darkness intrude. Why am I here? The comfortable conviction that this is a dream has been torn away like a gauzy veil. I know that I am not asleep. I remember; I know what has happened to me. To my shame, I was defeated in sordid brawl with a common, bullying, Bugbear thief! I left Eliana! I left both of my friends alone and unsupported. While I collapsed, senseless, in a stinking alleyway. Self-reproach sinks me. My flight falters. Am I dying? Or am I already dead?
“Oh my Little Cuckoo. How troubled you are.” A familiar silky voice whispers in my ear.
Once again, I feel a warm, strong form above me. Once again, I am buoyed up. My wings surge with power. His wings? Our wings? Again, I cannot tell if, and where, we are distinct. I do not know where my being ends and the Other’s begins. I am only aware of a hot insistent pressure along my lower back.
“What is happening to me?” I sigh.
“You have been badly hurt, Little Cuckoo. How it pains me to see you come here to me like this. How could your…goddess have allowed this to happen? How could she have failed you in this way?” The voice torments me.
Mouth dry, hair whipping wildly in the wind, it is difficult to answer.
“Perhaps the Lady of Winds and Storms is testing me.” I rasp out miserably.
“Is that what you truly think, Little Cuckoo?” He mocks. “Such a cruel act, if this is so. I would never abandon you in this way.”
“You?” I want to weep; I want never to stop flying. “I do not know you. And you do not know me. Or my task.”
“I know that you need help. Need power. Else you would not be here, Little Cuckoo.” A soft laugh tickles my ear. “I can promise you your life. I can restore you. And I can give you the power to defeat your foes.”
I am unsure if it is the sensuous caress of whispers on my skin or the intoxicating temptation of the words themselves, but I am suddenly breathless. I shudder helplessly. It feels as if I have been hollowed out and then filled back up with sweet, syrupy heat. It burns.
“And what would you have in return?” What sounded like a stern demand in my mind emerges weak and fluttery into the scalding air.
“Only your loyalty.” The voice soothes, low and eager. “Only that you serve me.”
I struggle fiercely against the elation of this freedom, this power, this soaring flight…
“I serve Aerdrie Faenya.” I whisper hoarsely. “I am Hers. Love and loyalty both. Only Hers.”
My wings disappear and loneliness freezes me. I drop out of the scorched golden sky and plummet down. Into darkness again…
I wake, leaning against damp bricks. I groan quietly, feeling the blooming of my bruises. But I am alive. Still, so much has gone wrong! The smell that surrounds me…
Panic lending strength to my battered limbs, I rise quickly. Quen and Vess, my packet of letters from the Aerie and my Winterglass, even the new scarf – all of my belongings are whole and safe. But my hair and coat are stickily sodden. I smear a slow-moving drop of liquid from my face and smell copper. I am soaked in gore. And my companions! I am terrified of what I will find in this reek of slaughter. Even the aftermath of massacre and feast amongst the most base of the Frost Giants did not stink like this. I force myself to look out at the alleyway before me.
After a moment, my mind shocked into searing white blankness, I realize that I am looking at our attackers. Pieces and parts of them. It is too hideous. The moment of stunned calm passes. Horror, gale-wind strong, batters into me. Is the being from the crimson desert, the one who taunted me with flight and fall, responsible for this carnage? Could it be that he reached out of my vision to prove his deadly power? And to punish me for my refusal to serve him? I fall to my knees. Onto something soft. There is a horrid squelching noise.
“Are you responsible for this?” I whisper, sickened with guilt. “What have you done?”
But the voice is gone, as is the dizzying heat of his touch and my powerful wings.
“What did you say?” A horrified croak sounds out next to me.
Vaikner is spattered with blood; a wash of red from the dripping hem of his robes to his gore-encrusted hair. An amorphous clot of tissue adheres to his cheek and I cannot stop looking at it. He stares back at me, eyes wide and dull with fear.
“I was not talking to…It is not important.” I mutter. “You are alright! When did you wake? Did you see what happened? Where is Eliana?”
Vaikner shakes his head at my frantic questions, answering only the last with a sideways jerk of his shoulder. Following his gesture, I see Eliana. She is unconscious but breathing steadily. Like all of us, she is befouled with more blood than I would ever have thought was contained in a single Halfling and Bugbear. But I do not see any wounds on her.
“Thank the Lady that we are all alive! Vaikner, do you know what happened?” I repeat.
“Let us see to Eliana.” He shakes his head again. “Perhaps you can heal her if she needs it. And I will clean this…I will clean us all. And then I can talk to both of you.”
Nodding, I make my way over to my friend. Her face is pale but she looks very peaceful. Younger and sweeter than usual, with a vulnerability that I never see in her features when she is awake. I think back to her fervent and irate warnings about Carlin Havedear. I curse myself and Vaikner for our immense foolishness. And I squirm at the thought of the wrathful talking-to that we are surely due to receive. Vaikner, standing next to me, seems to be experiencing similar concerns.
“I suppose we really should wake her up now, yes?” He asks glumly. “Even though currently she is resting peacefully. And soon she will be so angry.”
“Yes. We really should.” I sigh, reaching for Eliana’s cheek and forcing myself to focus on calm and healing prayer.
Her eyes fly open and she sits up, sputtering. Even her coughing sounds furious. I sigh again.
“You! You two! You…” She trails off, blanching as she takes in our abattoir-like surroundings. “Mielikki preserve us! What in all the hells…what in all the fucking hells happened here? And why does it always fucking happen to fucking us?!”
I pat her carefully on the shoulder.
“You also do not know what happened?” I ask sadly.
She jumps to her feet with a grunt of disgust, frantically brushing at her cloak. A pink and wobbling loop of entrails, stuck stubbornly to the wool, reluctantly un-adheres and plops slowly to the cobbles. Eliana grits her teeth, briefly closes her eyes, and reaches into a pocket. Finally, she slumps slightly.
“Pip is alright.” She murmurs.
I cheer weakly and Vaikner makes a nondescript sound of approbation. He is concentrating on his casting and before long, trembling with relief, I feel the worst of the reeking stains scrubbed out of my hair and clothing.
We stand together, looking down at the remains of the Halfling and Bugbear that tried to rob us.
“Vaikner, you were awake when I came back to myself. And you said you wanted to talk to us both. What did you see?” I ask.
“I regained my awareness only moments before you awoke, Elodie.” Vaikner demurs. “But Fukurou was gyring up above. He witnessed what happened. That is what I wanted to tell you about.”
He pauses, glancing around nervously. Eliana and I follow his gaze impatiently but see no new horrors.
“Fukurou informed me that he saw a large winged creature. It looked rather like a griffon. It swooped down and killed the Bugbear and Halfling thieves. It left us – our unconscious forms – alone. Perhaps it thought that we were already dead.” He stops speaking, looking up fearfully.
“That is all he told you?” I ask incredulously.
“That’s it? That’s all you can tell us?” Eliana snaps at the same moment.
Vaikner tilts his head slightly, listening to a voice that only he can hear.
“Er. There was a smell of stale heat.” He adds. “And laughter. From the creature. A deep chuckling.”
“Griffons do not laugh as they kill.” I shake my head doubtingly.
Fukurou descends from the narrow darkness of the alleyway. He seems distressed. He flutters anxiously about Vaikner’s head for a moment, then settles on the magist’s shoulder. His feathers in disarray, his graceful bird form hunched in on itself, Fukurou stares morosely at Vaikner’s face.
“He is upset. Your poor little friend.” I say sympathetically. “He already fought to save you once this night. How terrible for him to have to watch you get hurt again. I am sorry. I hope that you gain comfort from each other. You are both safe now.”
Vaikner closes his eyes, a brief spasm of pain passing over his face. Then he nods.
I ask no more questions of the traumatized Familiar. Instead, opening myself to my Lady’s Questing Breath, I inhale deeply. Still strong – so strong that it chokes me a little – I smell used-up heat; the scorched and smoky fragrance of the Lower Planes. The Demonic Realms. What was the vicious thing that brought such violence to this place?
Eliana studies me, raising her brows in silent question. I shrug, frustrated. I look back to Vaikner’s anguished face. I can see that he has not shared all that he knows with us. I cannot blame, cannot resent him. I myself feel too overwhelmed by terror and doubt to confide my own worst fears to my friends. I just want to leave this accursed spot. For the first time in my memory, I cannot bear to be exposed to my Lady’s free sky. I crave a sheltering roof over my head. Horror-struck and ashamed, I hurry my companions to Vaikner’s tavern.
Vaikner, sharing all of my urgency, guides us swiftly through the empty streets. It does not take long to reach the Ship’s Prow. Even in my distress, I pause to ensure that my eyes are not playing a trick on my weary mind. The tavern is a ship. Not a building designed or carved to resemble a sea-going vessel. An actual ship. At least a mile from the docks, nestled between two rather typical Waterdhavian houses as if were as unremarkable as its neighbors, is a large wooden galleon. Or perhaps a barque. I am not well-versed in boats. Shaking my head and skipping forward to catch up with Vaikner and Eliana, I decide that discovering how the Ship’s Prow came to be moored on dry land, serving as an inn, is a puzzle for another time.
Inside the reassuringly low-ceilinged vessel, I grow a little less anxious. The wooden walls glow richly in the flickering firelight. There is a soothing smell of aged timber, seaweed, and fish. The latter comes from steaming bowls of creamy soup that are the only food I can see on offer. Even at this late hour, there are a few customers quietly eating and drinking. Behind the bar is a tall Human man. He has wide shoulders, light brown skin, and a short grizzled beard. His eyes, calm and thoughtful, grow friendly when he sees us.
“Good Evening to you, Professor Vaikner!” He calls cheerfully.
“Good Evening, Jhambrote. Any news?” Vaikner replies, hurrying towards a staircase at the back corner of the room.
“No news. No visitors, no messages!” Jhambrote replies, winking at Eliana.
She smiles broadly and winks back.
I check briefly to make sure that we are not being followed and that none of those in the inn’s lower rooms appear suspicious. Then I follow Vaikner upstairs. He heads directly for his room, stopping only to check that his door is still securely locked. I nod approvingly as he confirms that the latch has not been tampered with. Clearly reassured, he opens the door and ducks inside. Eliana and I follow. I look about me curiously.
Vaikner’s room is very…sparse. Other than his bedroll placed on a cleanly swept floor, it is empty. I know that the Drow insists on carrying his large rucksack with him everywhere that he goes. I suppose he prefers to keep all of his possessions on his person. Still, the sterile chamber makes me oddly melancholy. I itch to leave some mark of ordinary habitation in the bare space. A well-loved book, a spare scabbard, a discarded pair of stockings – anything. Vaikner, however, seems relieved to be here. He sighs deeply and sets down his pack. Then, turning to Eliana and I with an abrupt little start, as if he had forgotten our presence, he frowns.
“Thank you for ensuring that I returned here in safety. After the difficulties we faced this evening, I am sure that you understand my desire to be alone for a time. I need to meditate.” Vaikner says tersely. “I will wish you both a good night.”
I try to conceal the offended chill in my air, staring at Vaikner with injured surprise. But, of course, he is right. It has been a most trying evening. Eliana nods, unconcerned, and smiles at me.
“Let’s head downstairs. I’m feeling hungry all of a sudden.” She states.
Given the lateness of the hour, we agree to meet at highsun the following day. At a particular pastry stall in the main market – an outpost of an apparently famous and excellent bakery named Hriat’s – that Eliana has been wishing to try. From here, we will work on our second task for Mirt and continue our investigation of Gristlegums and the shadow it still casts on Trollskull Manor. This settled, Eliana and I leave Vaikner to his reverie.
In the inn’s common room, the aromas of seafood, garlic, and wine draw Eliana to the bar. I follow, noticing that she does appear hungrier than usual.
“Good evening.” I address the man tending the bar, Jhambrote, politely. “I am Elodie, Elodie Skyshard. And this is Eliana Cooper. We are friends of Vaikner Bootsman, one of your guests. We have had a very…eventful night. And Eliana needs sustenance. Can you provide this please?”
“I could go for something hot and filling.” Eliana agrees, nodding avidly.
“Welcome to the Ship’s Prow. I am Jhambrote, one of the owners. And yes, I think your needs can be met.” Jhambrote’s voice reminds me of Pierogi’s happy purr.
Eliana and Jhambrote smile and talk together and smile some more. I occupy myself with selecting a table: I require a good view of the stairs and the front door, do not wish to be directly underneath any windows, and I prefer to sit with my back against a wall. Having found a suitable spot, I wave encouragingly to Eliana, inviting her to come over. Soup bowl in hand, she joins me. She sighs contentedly as she eats. For a while, we sit in companionable silence. But, despite the pleasant surroundings, I cannot find calm. The back of my head throbs dully. Wisps of blood-reek intrude themselves into my air. I hear the silken murmur of promises in my ear. And taste strange spices on dry, desert wind. Stirring restlessly, I turn to Eliana.
“I am distracted, forgive me.” I say apologetically. “I wish that I could remain here and be more pleasant company for you. I am sure that you would prefer that also. Rather than eating alone. But I can no longer deny how deeply troubled I feel! I need to be in a blessed space; a sanctuary. I must return to my Temple!”
“Now?” Eliana looks up at me, shrugs, and then smiles reassuringly. “Um. Alright. That’s fine. I’m good here.”
“I will see you tomorrow. Rest well!” I spring up and hurry for the tavern door.
My yearning for my Temple only grows more fervent out in the dark streets of Dock Ward. Craving the protection of the Tel’Quessir and the prayerful peace the Seldarine, I urge my tired feet to move ever more swiftly. My journey north is undisturbed. I greet the Elven guards at the Temple gates with warm gratitude for their vigil. I pass by Sehanine Moonbow’s silvery path and walk eagerly to Corellon Larethian’s estuary.
The First of the Seldarine, our Protector, is worshipped within shining halls; an exquisitely wrought labyrinth of painting, sculpture, music, and magical ritual. But They are also praised within hidden groves and secret gardens, bursting forth with sky-blue flowers under a golden sun. Together, these havens of Corellon make up the sacred heart of our Temple. It is to the most remote of these Moon Groves that I now turn. My weariness leaves me as I climb silvery steps winding around a grey tree. Ascending onto a carved prayer platform, hidden amongst branches luminous with pale-gold leaves, I look out onto a starlit clearing. There are other Tel’Quessir there; lovely faces lifted to the skies, singing. I close my eyes, breath in air, sweet-scented with spring grass, and pray. I stay in Corellon’s estuary for some time. But peace does not come.
Perhaps this is because I remain not only horror-struck by what I saw in the alley this night, but also confused. I do not understand what happened to us. To me…
Perhaps it is also because I do not simply fear what my strange visits to the scorched red desert mean. But I cannot help wondering, half-hopefully, if I will return there. I can still feel the tempting whisper on my skin. And the beating of my wings…
After all of the strangeness of this night, it is a great relief to open the door to my room and see Aubray’s familiar frowning face.
“Hello.” I muster up all the cheerfulness remaining to me.
“Hello. You are late tonight.” She replies. “And you have a different set of stains and smells than before.”
She sniffs a little more accusingly than is entirely required, but otherwise seems unruffled. Her calm manner is very soothing to me. And encourages me to share my troubles. Plopping down on my bed and divesting myself of my weapons, coat, and boots, I tiredly relate all that has happened to my friends and myself since I last saw my roommate.
Aubray is intrigued by the rituals of shopping, dressing, and grooming required for a night at the Lightsinger Theater. But not especially surprised that the actual Opera was disappointing. I am sure that our defeat of the basilisk impresses her. And she allows that Pierogi may yet prove to be a cat of amiable disposition. I start to suspect that Aubray and Eliana would become friends. My roommate’s reaction to my following Carlin into that cursed alley is distressingly similar to what Eliana’s was, at any rate. Aubray is most interested in what I experienced in my vision of flight. And what was awaiting me when I awoke.
“I do not know what entity ripped apart those thieves.” I shudder. “Only that I detected the scent of the Lower Planes in that vile little alleyway when I awoke. But then, I do not know where my vision took me. And what I may have brought back with me…”
I sigh and fidget with Quen and Vess. I check the blades for stains and damage. I run my fingers over my Warden’s feather and make sure that it remains smooth and shiny. Then I look up at Aubray.
She sits at her desk, chin propped on her slender hand, staring at me thoughtfully. I smile at her, comforted by her presence. I know that her purpose in these Realms is not the same as mine. And that her Lady is Sehanine Moonbow. I recognize that Aubray and I are very different. But here she sits. Having heard a most disturbing tale told by a new friend. And yet she remains serene; she radiates pensive self-possession. We are not very alike but Aubray is patient and brave in her own way. A pleasant recollection makes my hair flutter happily.
“Oh! I nearly forgot!” I jump up and reach for my coat. “I…obtained this for you. At Uza’s shop. It is a scarf and I thought of you as soon as I saw it. Uza termed it Selûne’s Gossamer but, of course, for a Bowstring like you, it can more suitably be considered a gift of your Lady. It captures moonlight you see. And glows…”
Stepping towards her, I press the shimmering fabric into Aubray’s hesitant hand.
“What?” She looks startled. “Wait, this is for me? You got me a scarf.”
“Yes!” I laugh at her surprise. “As I just finished explaining.”
“Well, yeah. But you, you know, talk quite a lot. So I was just making sure.” She looks down. “Thank you. It – it definitely glows.”
“With Sehanine’s light.” I say proudly. “Just like you.”
“Oh.” Aubray says.
She gently lays the glimmering scarf on the desk in front of her. She reaches out from time to time, distractedly touching it as we continue to talk.
“I don’t know what happened to the Halfling and Bugbear that you invited to rob you.” Aubray frowns at me and I wince. “There are all kinds of strange dangers in the Deep, Elodie. I rather think that we should direct our attention to those visions. Something from another Plane is reaching out to you. That’s not usually considered a good thing.”
“No. Especially not if it can cross over to our world and slaughter, er, innocent denizens of the city!” I cry anxiously.
“Mmm.” Aubray says noncommittally. “I guess if you are truly concerned about this supposed winged monster that your owl friend saw, you could always ask the High Huntress for advice. Solonor Thelandira’s priest knows about, you know, hunting. And surviving being hunted. And places where the wilds encroach upon civilization. Those things.”
Aubray pauses and looks at me sternly.
“But if you are worried, as you should be, about the spiritual danger gathering around you, then you need to talk to the head of your own Order. Renestrae, the Grand Heron, will be able to help you.”
I nod slowly.
“This is very logical advice.” I yawn. “Truly, it has helped me so much just to talk to you! And to hear your wise suggestions about what I should do next. Thank you, my friend. I think that I feel calm enough to take some rest now. With the daylight I will seek out my Heron. I suppose that this matter can wait until a more polite hour. I need not disturb the High Clergy now.”
“No. You do not.” Aubray says emphatically. “And generally maybe not until you’ve, you know, washed and changed?”
“Yet again, good advice.” I grin.
My bath both refreshes and soothes me. In a soft nightgown, swathed in every available blanket, I curl up on my bed and let my hair drift out in drowsy comfort. Looking at the stars glimmering in at me through the multi-hued window, I chat sleepily with Aubray. She tells me about the book that she is trying to read. And I talk to her a little more about my home, the friends that I made and miss among the Sky Wardens, and what I saw on my journey from the Great Glacier to Waterdeep.
I am somewhere in the midst of describing the precise fragrance of the breezes that dance over the Sea of Shining Stars when I fall asleep. I rest, blessedly free of further dreams or visions.
In the late morning, after completing my blade-training, indulging in another pleasant cleanse in orange-blossom scented waters, and taking a hurried breakfast, I climb the windswept tower of Aerdrie Faenya. There, in an elegant chamber awash with sunlight and freshened by cool air from the sea, stands Grand Heron Renestrae. Eyes gentle and grey gown rippling in our Lady’s breezes, she greets me kindly.
“Good day, Heron.” I bow respectfully as I receive her blessing. “May I speak to you? I am troubled and seek advice.”
“Certainly. Although I hope that it is not that you are discontented with your living arrangements? Your room in Sehanine Moonbow’s Tower seemed like such a…fortuitous fit.” She frowns slightly.
“Oh no! My room is most beautiful and comfortable. And I love my roommate, Aubray. I love everything here in the Temple! My trouble has to do with what I have encountered outside of our Haven.” I exclaim.
Heron Renestrae nods, pleased. She knows my quest, of course. And now I confide in her completely. I tell her about all that has happened since my arrival in the Deep. She does not flinch when I describe the horrific killings of the thieves yesterday evening. But her eyes darken when I talk of my recurring vision of flying. Of soaring as I have always wished to, while an unseen voice tries to tempt me away from my Lady’s faith.
“I fear that the awful fate of the would-be thieves last night was related to this flying entity somehow…reaching out of my vision. To maim and to murder.” I shudder. “Aubray is not convinced of this. She is more concerned about the visions themselves; that they indicate a kind of spiritual attack on me. She suggested that I discuss the experience of these dream-flights with you. From what I described, Heron, can you tell me what this entity is?”
The Elf regards me thoughtfully and then shifts her gaze to look out of the tower’s large casements at the sky outside. I instinctively follow her gesture and stare longingly into the cloudless blue space beyond.
“Aubray was wise in her advice to you, Elodie. The lore of winged entities, both friendly and evil, has been my study. And there are a great number of them. What you saw – where you flew – I suspect was not part of our material world. These Realms have enemies within and without our plane. They are many and varied: tainted celestials, fallen angels, demons…
“They may fully inhabit other planes or prowl on the boundaries of our world. Seeking entrance or, at the least, control over those who live in these Realms. All in an attempt to gain power, to influence the fate of this world and shape it to their own dark visions.
“I can think of many who have been known to invade minds and try to turn the faithful from the righteous path. Zariel, leader of Asmodeus’ armies is one. A fallen angel. The Lord of Greed, Moloch, has wings. As does Belial. And there are many flying demons…” Heron Renestrae continues with a bewildering list of beings.
I listen with grave interest and growing concern. I have always and only concerned myself with the foes of my own People. Enemies that pose a direct threat to the Aerie. I have not been used to considering more ephemeral dangers; subtle attacks on one’s very will and spirit. But, absorbing the Heron’s words, I begin to see that there are many who work to twist and darken my Lady’s blessings of freedom and light!
I am not frightened away from my chosen path so much as I am confused. Why would any one of these malignant entities turn their thoughts to me, a young knight of little consequence to any but her own Avariel family? And what should I do to fight back? Heron Renestrae, seeing the stormy twitching of my hair, answers both of these unspoken questions at once.
“These enemies have much in common: they endlessly seek opportunity and they hone in on those who they believe may be susceptible to their influence. They find those involved in important and challenging tasks, those who may feel burdened or in need of help. And they take advantage of any weakness that they encounter. It is in moments of uncertainty, of vulnerability, that they make their promises.
“Remember, Elodie, that it is difficult to notice the danger when all you hear is a soothing voice that would gift you with strength and support. That claims only to make it easier for you to fulfill your purpose. If you are focused only on the critical nature of your task and become lost, alone, in its hardships, you take the first steps away from faith and hope. You become open to the manipulations of entities like your winged visitor. Do not do this! Keep your connection to others who worship Aerdrie Faenya. To those companions who would also follow the path of light. Look to them for help. And for a reminder of why you serve our Lady. Do not fly alone!”
The Heron’s advice circles in my thoughts even as I say a polite farewell to the Elder Elf and leave my Temple behind. I had previously thought of forming alliances as an important means to ensure that I could most effectively help those who needed my assistance. After all, to serve, to help those in distress is my calling. This had once only applied to my own People, of course. But, now that I am journeying through the world outside of the Aerie, I know that the Lady of Winds and Skies wishes me to stand against cruelty and oppression wherever I encounter it. Still, I had simply never considered myself as requiring help. Or, even more strange: protection. Perhaps my Lady is watching over me. I have met several worthy friends since my arrival in the Deep. I am no longer alone.
It is in this spirit of companionship that I greet Vaikner at the mid-morning market. I am relieved to see that he is back down to his previous total of two eyes. Eliana is not there and we sit down on a shaded bench to await her arrival.
“Vaikner, I wish to say something to you.” I begin awkwardly.
I choke on my words almost immediately, struggling as I again remember the sights and smells of last night’s horror. I hope – I am almost certain – that I do not have to convince Vaikner of the most urgent truth. That I had no way of knowing that a monstrous entity could follow me from my odd visions into this reality! And, following on this basic fact, that I naturally would never have endangered my new friends with my cursed presence had I known the risk they bore by associating with me. I cough painfully. It is more difficult than I imagined it would be to discuss such matters. I realize that Vaikner is looking at me expectantly.
“I am very sorry. About last night.” I manage lamely. “I did not mean for any of this to happen. Please believe me.”
He stares at me, more bemused than moved by my statement.
“Oh. Well. Alright.” Vaikner frowns, still looking rather confused. “Let me tell you what I discovered this morning. It has been very interesting…”
The Drow seems eager to change the subject and I nod listlessly as he relates the conversation that he had with Shrindala, the innkeeper who co-owns the Ship’s Prow with Jhambrote. Apparently she is on duty when the Human man that we met last night goes to his rest. Vaikner asked Shrindala if she knew anything about the Sea Maiden’s Faire. She told him that it is a traveling carnival visiting from Lantan. And that they are currently moored off Mist Shore.
Shrindala gave Vaikner directions to Dock Street, just past Sailor’s Corner, where the Faire is located. She also, as he mentions with extreme nonchalance, warned him that Mist Shore is a dangerous neighborhood. Vaikner confides all this to me just before announcing that he then proceeded to the afore-mentioned unsafe Mist Shore to find the Faire for himself. Frowning slightly, I begin to pay more attention.
“I found the place with no difficulty.” He says with satisfaction. “There were two large ships off the dock. The Hellraiser and the Heartbreaker. They transport the Faire. The actual exhibits and attractions are set up in tents on land. In the early morning, the place was closed to visitors but I showed the basilisk’s collar to a person clearly working at the Faire. And I asked to speak to the Captain.”
“The Captain?” I repeat.
“Yes. There are ships, so there must be a Captain, yes?” Vaikner nods. “They asked me to wait. And I saw them release a colorful bird from a cage and send it off south, over the water.”
“They have birds in cages?” I frown.
“Yes. I believe that it was a messenger bird because, shortly afterwards, I was invited aboard the Heartbreaker. The crew looked at me a little strangely. But perhaps that is because they are all Human. At least, all the ones that I saw were. So they may be unaccustomed to Drow. But they were polite. I was asked to wait in the Captain’s cabin and offered a drink. I asked for the Captain’s favorite!” Vaikner laughs.
I regard him solemnly.
“Did they tell you how the basilisk came to be roaming loose in the Deep, a danger to cats? And people?” I ask.
“But wait! Let me tell you about the cabin, Elodie.” Vaikner sighs dreamily. “The ship itself was very neat and well-maintained. But the Captain’s quarters were opulent. So many fascinating and beautiful decorations. And so many interesting mechanical devices! I had difficulty not immediately examining them all.”
I sigh.
“And did you end up seeing the Captain?” I press him.
“Captain Kord. Yes, I did.” Vaikner pauses.
I raise questioning brows.
“He was Human too.” Vaikner resumes. “We talked. He was most grateful that we dispatched the basilisk. He said that he would very much appreciate our discretion regarding the whole affair. I told him that, as long as we do not find out that the monster killed any sentient beings, we would not need to reveal where it escaped from. In thanks for our silence, and for killing the basilisk of course, he gave each of us fifty gold pieces. Here, this is your share.”
Vaikner hands me a large platinum crescent moon that I know is worth fifty gold coins. I stare at him incredulously.
“Captain Kord also hinted that there is additional employment for us if we wish it. That he is interested in working with us. I thought that was very generous and informed him that there should be no trouble with us continuing to provide him with our services.” Vaikner adds.
“What would he wish to employ us for?” I say slowly. “And why? He knows nothing about us.”
Vaikner looks intently at a merchant stall offering a variety of pewter jugs and platters. He clinks two more platinum coins between his fingers and remains strangely silent.
“Well,” He finally replies. “It seems that he does know at least a little about us. We have made a bit of an impression. Being in the Wazoo and all of that. And he has seen us before. He noticed us at the opera. He was seated across the room from us, in the box opposite to Mirt’s.”
“That Human in the magnificent coat? The one who looks like a ravenous pirate? That is your Captain Kord?” I ask stiffly.
“That is him, yes.” Vaikner agrees.
I fume in silence for a few moments, my air spinning rapidly as all of my Heron’s advice about trusting to worthy friends and forming alliances leaves my memory.
“Vaikner,” I begin coldly. “I am very displeased by this. This Captain is a stranger to me, even if he is no longer that to you. I will not have you pledge my silence, my complicity, in this monster’s escape and killing to some unknown, piratical individual. Nor will I have you accept his gratitude and his coin on my behalf. And I will certainly not tolerate you making any promises that I will provide further service to this stranger! To have you speak and act in my name in this way, without consulting me, is a grave breach of my trust! You did not obtain my consent for any of this!”
My shock and fury increasing with every bitter word, I loom over Vaikner as sparks snap down the roiling curls of my hair. He returns my stare, surprised and upset.
“The Captain was helpful and pleasant. And the crew were kind. I spent time with Fel’richt, the First Mate, and liked him…” He begins contritely.
“Please just never do such a thing again.” I snap. “Not if you wish for us to continue keeping company together!”
A chilly silence stretches between us.
“I also visited Xoblob’s shop this morning.” Vaikner attempts a non-confrontational change of subject.
“That is nice.” I reply insincerely.
“Yes. He is a very odd and entertaining individual, is he not?” Vaikner continues quickly. “I wanted to ask him about that mysterious little miniature that I got from Uza. The breathing painting. The portrait’s artist is Lady Kalain. That is all I know.”
“Mmhm.” I stare grumpily at a pair of Dwarves engaged in happy haggling nearby.
“I offered to sell Xoblob one of the bottles of Lurien brandy that Renaer gave me.” Vaikner persists with stubborn cheer. “And he in turn suggested that I purchase some NFT’s. Neuro-Fungal Tablets.”
“I have never heard of those. Are they like Uza’s Dust of Deliciousness? Causing euphoria and confusing visions?” My curiosity thaws my tone.
“I do not know.” Vaikner admits regretfully. “I wanted to take some with me. For further study, you understand. But Xoblob insisted that I eat a sample in his shop first, before he would actually sell me any. Not knowing the effect that they would have, I declined.”
“That…that was sensible of you.” I look at him in approving surprise.
Vaikner slumps sadly. Perhaps last night’s disastrous events have had a dampening effect on his inquisitiveness. If so, he does not appear content with his newly cautious approach to the unknown.
“I also stopped by Helm’s Hall.” He continues.
“Oh?” I perk up.
“Yes. I wanted to apologize to Saer Ederick for our late-night intrusion and check to see that all is well with the orphans. Also, I thought to invite the children to the Faire. After I saw the ships and the tents I realized it is something that the little ones would enjoy very much! I offered to take the orphans on an outing to visit it.”
“You wish to go on an outing with the orphans? The rude ones? That we met at the manor?” I confirm.
His answer is a benign smile.
I look at Vaikner, pensive and uncertain. I feel that it is imperative that we protect the fledglings from the dangers of Trollskull Manor. And ensure that they remain safe and happy with Saer Ederick at Helm’s Hall. But actually spending time in their presence has not been a priority in my mind. Nor, frankly, is it a particularly appealing idea.
Vaikner continues to confuse me. To be, at some moments, so driven by curiosity that he disregards the safety of himself and others. And acts most rashly. And at others, to be so considerate of the well-being of those around him that he is willing give his time to bring joy to uncared-for fledglings. It is strange. He showed poor judgement this very morning. Infringing on my freedom and honor by pledging my silence and service to another without my permission. And yet he is also so clearly driven by the need to be kind. This last thought soothes much of my ambivalence away. I may not fully understand him, but his earnest wish to do good ensures that I am willing to tolerate a lot from my new friend. It is just that…I do not trust him completely.
“Saer Ederick explained that, during the morning, most of the children attend school.” Vaikner seems oblivious to my busy musings. “And suggested that, if we want to treat the little ones to an outing, we return on Troll Tide. That is, in six days time.”
“We?” He suddenly has my full attention once more.
“Yes. Troll Tide is a Waterdhavian holiday apparently. Commemorating the end of one of their wars. With Trolls. It is celebrated with a day off from school for the children. They roam around, wearing masks and requesting tribute from adults. Most charming, most traditional. Saer Ederick said that, since the orphans will have a holiday on that day, this would be a good time to go to the Faire.” Vaikner concludes happily.
“Hm. Right. Well, that may be enjoyable.” I say diplomatically. “Eliana is quite late and this is worrying. We should check on her. Shall we go to the Shrines of Nature?”
Vaikner agrees that we should look for our friend and we walk north to the temple of Mielikki. The day is turning cool and cloudy. Vaikner raises his face to the wind blowing in from the west with relief. I taste salt on my lips as the sea breeze meets my air. We have not gone far when we hear a raspy call; an elderly Human man is announcing the sale of today’s news-page. Vaikner purchases one of the last remaining copies of the Wazoo in the man’s stack. I stop abruptly as I stare at the leading story.
“Well, they have all of our names right this time.” Vaikner shrugs philosophically.
“The basilisk did not look like that.” I say grimly. “I mean, they have the eight legs and pointed tail right. But it did not resemble a chicken. It mauled you with its fearsome fangs. It did not peck at you with a beak!”
“Yes. I remember.” Vaikner winces.
I continue to read eagerly.
“Well, at least G. Rudderbust makes sure to announce that the cat was saved. Right there at the top of the page. So that none of his readers need to worry.” I acknowledge. “Hmm, this information about a floating castle in the Desarin Valley is fascinating. I see that Volo found time to talk to the Wazoo about his opinions on that matter. I hope this means that he has also been able to follow up on the questions that I asked him to pursue for me…”
Voice falling off into a mutter, I return my attention to the page. Vaikner is frowning over the advertisements. Then, giving a snort of exasperation, he looks up at the top of the page.
“Cloudy weather and rain is promised.” He smiles. “This is good. And look here, at this complaint from Dommoc Hardbottle! It is fortunate that our names are not mentioned there too. How clever of Elie to call herself something different and say that we came from the Cellarer’s Guild.”
We both laugh guiltily while praising our friend’s quick thinking.
“Do you think that she is alright?” I ask, walking faster.
“I hope so. Let us go and look.” Vaikner picks up his pace to match mine.
The gate in the dense brambly hedge sheltering the Shrines of Nature stands open. As Vaikner and I walk down the wooded path, a warm rain starts to patter gently down. The undergrowth seems to steam in the drizzle. Then, as the mist-like sprinkling turns into a steady downpour, the cushions of moss turn into soggy little sponges and silvery drops fall off the leaves all around us. The green light under the trees dims to a pearlescent grey. It is only a brief deluge. Even as we emerge into the clearing at the center of the Shrines, the rain has tapered off and hesitant sunshine glimmers on puddles and makes little rainbows in water-beaded cobwebs.
Two figures turn towards us as we walk forward. I recognize Brother Helmsing. The much larger person with him must be Eliana’s roommate, Sister.
“Good day to you, Brother Helmsing.” I greet the Halfling priest politely. “I am Elodie, Elodie Skyshard. We met when Eliana came to your temple to introduce herself. And this is our friend, Vaikner Bootsman.”
“Welcome to you both.” Brother Helmsing smiles. “I remember you, Elodie. And Eliana has spoken about Vaikner also. Have you had the chance to meet Sister? She is another of Mielikki’s acolytes that lives here at the Shrines.”
Eliana has told me that Sister is a Firbolg. And I did get a brief glimpse of her roommate the previous evening. But she was trying to sleep at the time, and covered with a blanket. I have never met a Firbolg before and now I look up at Sister curiously. I know that her kind share ancestry with Giant folk. But, her bulk and slightly ponderous movements remind me more of a bear.
Her face is not bear-like, however. Her nose, broad at its base between thick brows and widening further into a flat squared-off tip with generous nostrils, is her most prominent feature. Her skin is a grey-blue but lightens to soft pink over her nose. Which increasingly reminds me of the smoothly domed muzzle of some gentle creature. A sheep, perhaps? I feel that it would be velvety soft to the touch. Like stroking the silky snout of a calf. I smile as I realize that I have to consciously restrain my fingers from reaching up to check.
Sister’s hair is a thick mane of russet red. Her eyes, wide-set and deeply rich brown, regard us solemnly. Her expression does not change as Vaikner and I bow and smile in her direction. She carries some of that same remote serenity that imbues Eliana. But mostly she radiates a calm and stolid patience. I feel that if she were asked to continue standing here, amongst the flowering pea plants and ripening fava-bean pods, she would do so without question or complaint.
“We have come to see Eliana.” Vaikner turns to Brother Helmsing. “She was to meet with us at the market but did not arrive. Is she here at her temple? Do you know if she is well?”
“She got back real late last night.” Sister’s voice is low and she speaks slowly. As if every word was pondered over and chosen most deliberately. “She woke me up. But that was alright. I was about to get up to the goats anyway. She said she had fought a basilisk and a bugbear and her head hurt. So all she wanted for the rest of the night was food and sleep. And she had already eaten some fish soup so she did not need me to get her up for breakfast. I’ve just let her rest.”
“Is it alright if we check on her?” I ask.
“Certainly.” Brother Helmsing gestures to a familiar little hut. “I am sure that you have much to do but, before she leaves, would you ask Elie to stop in for a quick word?”
With a kind smile, he walks away towards another of the small cottages. Sister gives us a slow nod and turns back to the garden beds. Vaikner and I continue on to Eliana’s lodging. The hut’s window is open and I lean into the quiet, mouse-redolent space with cheerful energy.
“Hello Eliana! It is us, Elodie and Vaikner! Your friends!” I announce our presence jauntily. “Are you still abed? Are you well?”
“Urgh.” Eliana’s voice emerges from the cottage.
“She must still be asleep.” I turn to Vaikner. “Perhaps having an unpleasant dream. She does not sound happy.”
“Elie!” Vaikner steps forward. “Please may you get up now? We missed you at the market. Where we waited close by the pastry seller as we arranged. Are you ready to join us now?
“Ugh. Oh. What time is it?” Eliana appears to have woken up.
“After highsun!” I call merrily. “And the Lady’s gifts are many and varied today. Will you come out? Also, Brother Helmsing asked to speak to you before we leave your temple.”
“Do you mean it’s raining, Elodie?” Eliana asks, disgruntled.
“On and off.” I confirm happily. “There are also lovely clouds and a pleasantly damp wind off the Sea of Swords.”
“Right.” There are various rustling noises from within. “Right. Give me a few moments then. I’ll just have a word with Brother Helmsing and then we can go.”
Pleased that our friend is well, Vaikner and I return to wait with Sister. She is undisturbed by our presence, continuing to tie rain-dampened pea tendrils to wooden supports.
“I am sorry that we intruded upon your rest last night, Sister.” I offer politely.
“That’s alright. Elie said you were going to fight a monster together.” Sister replies.
She pauses, glancing at me as if expecting something. I cannot tell what this may be, so I simply nod.
“And you take care of goats, yes?” Vaikner asks pleasantly.
“Oh yes!” I break in. “Eliana said that you make very fine cheese!”
“Yes.” Sister agrees seriously. “I look after the goats here. But I also want to get bees.”
“Bees?” Vaikner questions. “Ah yes, I expect that you wish to harvest their honey and wax.”
“Yup.” Sister says, unsmiling. “Also, I like bees.”
We listen with interest as the Firbolg describes her plans to introduce beehives to the Shrines of Nature. In her obvious enthusiasm, her speech even grows marginally more rapid. Sister is just pivoting to a detailed explanation of her cheese production methods when I see Eliana emerging from her hut and hurrying to Brother Helmsing’s cottage. A short time after that, they both leave the building and walk together into a grove of stately old trees nearby. And then, a little while later, Eliana strides up to us.
“Good morning. Or, good day, I suppose.” She smiles at us and pats Sister on the shoulder. “I would say that I’m sorry I overslept and missed our meeting. But it was just so good to rest! I think, after taking a blow to the head last night, I can be excused?”
“Of course!” Vaikner laughs.
“I am happy that you are alright.” I say earnestly.
“I was thinking about what we may want to do today.” Eliana continues. “It bothers me that we lost the key to Trollskull Manor. I think we should look for it again. And talk to Lif some more while we are there.”
“That is a good idea. And, as we walk over, we can observe all the drays that we pass. Remember, Mirt said that Maxeen would be wearing a hat with a violet flower in the brim.” I add.
“We should definitely talk to Lif again.” Vaikner agrees.
“And…well, I’d like to get something to eat on the way too.” Eliana says.
Having settled on our plans for the afternoon, we say goodbye to Sister and start east through Sea Ward. We have not taken this road to Trollskull Alley before and I look around with interest as our path leads us into an open square. Inspiringly named the Heroes’ Garden, the plaza is crowded and noisy. There are certainly many muscular individuals clad in a variety of armor and bearing weapons. Many more than I have been used to seeing in other parts of the Deep. I surreptitiously examine battle gear and study the quality of blades. Then I am distracted by an intrusive waft of scent creeping into my air. Its aroma is pungent with onions and grilled meat. Glancing about me, I see a scrawny older Human man pushing a rickety little cart past us. As I watch, he innocently lifts the lid of a shallow pan on his wagon and flaps it delicately. A cloud of fragrant meaty steam gusts forth. I hear Eliana swallow next to me.
“I’ll just go and get a sausage, then.” She mutters. “If you two can keep an eye out for Maxeen, alright?”
She hurries off after the sly snack salesman. Vaikner and I, taking our duties seriously, carefully examine every passing dray. Luck is with us, it would seem. Only a few moments pass before I hear a cry that has stops me in place, hair whipping around excitedly.
“Whoa there, Maxeen! Easy now, let’s get on!” A pleasant voice rings out.
I stare. Beside me, Vaikner takes an eager step forward, pauses, and then stares too.
“Could that be?” I breathe.
“Maxeen! She is pulling the dray!” Vaikner cries delightedly.
“I suppose that it is her. I mean, she has the hat. But…how are we to talk to a horse?” I stammer.
“Let us worry about that later. For now, make sure to follow her! Do not lose her in this crowd!” Vaikner frets.
His concern turns out to have been unnecessary. Maxeen’s dray moves at a glacier’s pace through the congested square. It also makes frequent stops. Our initial excitement turns tepid as Vaikner and I tromp slowly behind the lumbering vehicle. The dray has just reached the eastern edge of the square and is finally about to move out into one of the side streets, when Eliana rejoins us.
“Well, that was more of an ordeal than it needed to be.” She puffs, munching contentedly on an onion-strewn sausage in a bun. “All these sell-swords were so pushy! They wouldn’t believe that I wasn’t looking for an army. Just for highsun feast!”
Vaikner and I quickly explain that we have found Maxeen and that she is actually a mare that is pulling a dray. A dray that is about to leave the Heroes’ Garden, heading onto Skull Street.
“I think that I will ask Fukurou to follow her.” Vaikner suggests. “That way we will know where she rests when she is not harnessed to the dray. And can approach her with our questions in a less distracting setting.”
Eliana and I both agree that this is an excellent plan. I watch as the helpful little owl flaps upwards, in pursuit of the dray. Then Vaikner, Eliana, and I walk on.
We reach Trollskull Manor in the early afternoon. Vaikner heads directly for the front door. Eliana and I stomp more weeds as we move through the overgrown garden in search of the door key. I pause to look balefully at the moldy armchair that Lif threw out of the window during our previous attempt to have a reasonable discussion with him. I grudgingly admit that the angry ghost is quite strong. The bulky seat traveled an impressive distance across the scrubby yard. Following this thought comes another; this one having to do with the relative mass of a piece of furniture when compared to a small key. I turn my gaze up. There! All the way across the alleyway, just on the edge of the roof of the neighboring house, a stray sunbeam dances over the mellow shine of metal.
“Eliana, you may leave that clump of nettles. I think that I have found it.” I say with quiet satisfaction.
She follows my pointing finger.
“Huh. That could be it, yeah. Now, how do we get to it?” She squints into the patch of sun glare.
“Oh, that will not be difficult. I shall climb up. Perhaps you could just give me a boost?” I ask.
We cross the alley and I examine the stone-work of the building that I wish to scale. It is rough and there are ample handholds. I nod to Eliana and she drops into a crouch, forming a little basket out of her intertwined fingers and bracing her hands on her knee. Steadying myself against her shoulders, I step into her grip and, as she rises and pushes me up, I grab for the wall. I use my air, allowing it to gust and carry me even further up the side of the building. Thus, half leaping, half scrambling, I quickly reach my goal. I run questing fingers over the roof edge, feel sun-warmed metal, scoop-grab, and then let myself slide down to the ground. Opening my closed fist carefully, I show Eliana the key. She grins.
We find Vaikner pacing impatiently by the front door. Which is standing partially open. Peeking into the dim space beyond, I see several broken chairs and boxes piled up into a barricade blocking the entryway.
“Lif has taken measures to prevent the orphans from returning!” Vaikner turns to us. “And, I suppose, to protect the house from other trespassers. I hope that we can convince him to let us back in.”
Eliana steps forward.
“Hello there, Lif!” She calls in friendly tones. “It’s us. We’re back. May we come inside please?”
“I found the key that you threw away. It flew quite far.” I chime in, earning urgent head-shakes and belligerent glares from both of my companions.
“We have discovered much about what happened here. Since we last talked. We know about the orphanage that Gristlegums ran out of this house. We need to talk to you.” Vaikner picks up the conversation.
There is frenetic activity within the entryway. The scraping of wood and thudding of boxes raises flurries of dust. And then the door swings open. Lif has cleared away the barrier and, encouraged by this welcoming gesture, we hurry inside.
“Good day, Lif.” I make the magnanimous decision to forget past disagreements. And flying furniture. “As Vaikner said, we have much to talk about. And many questions. Perhaps we should establish a system of communication. So that our conversation may move more swiftly. Can you knock once for ‘yes’ and twice for ‘no’? And remain silent if you do not know the answer?”
There is a hollow knock.
It unleashes a blizzard of questions from all three of us.
“Is the Hag’s spirit in the house now?” I ask urgently.
“Do you know what has been happening here? Is it still happening?” Eliana presses him.
“Did the Hag cause your death also, Lif? Were you killed by her?” Vaikner questions.
There is a flurry of knocks, a brief silence laden with frustration, then another series of taps.
“Um. Was it twice for ‘yes’?” Eliana frowns.
“One moment! I have an idea.” Vaikner searches quickly through his pockets. “Here Lif! Can you use this?”
The Drow holds out Uza’s gift: the Wand of Many Colors. It lies in his outstretched hand for only an instant before it is snatched up, floating into the center of the room.
This’ll work. Much better.
Multi-hued words form in the air as the wand spins and dances. My own hands fly up, clapping excitedly. Eliana whoops. Vaikner smiles modestly. The rainbow writing drifts and dissipates, and is replaced by a new message.
I was killed. But not by the Hag.
“Minotaur?” I mouth the word at my friends, confused.
Multi-hued words form in the air as the wand spins and dances. My own hands fly up, clapping excitedly. Eliana whoops. Vaikner smiles modestly. The rainbow writing drifts and dissipates, and is replaced by a new message.
I was killed. But not by the Hag.
“Who killed you?” I ask.
It was…
…
It looked…
The wand swivels, pauses, moves again. Finally, words appear in an angry burst.
A small Minotaur…
?
“Minotaur?” I mouth the word at my friends, confused.
Eliana shrugs. Vaikner looks troubled. I decide that this new mystery will need to be puzzled out at a later time. The wand continues its rapid motion.
The Hag is not here now. But danger approaches. New Moon is three nights away. Help me to protect them!
“What happens at the New Moon?” Vaikner asks. “Who is in danger? Is it the orphans that you need our help to protect?”
Childrens’ spirits.
And children who come here that still live.
The Hag returns.
Or this place goes to Her.
The spirits of Her old victims…
She eats them over and over.
I am trapped.
I hear them cry.
I can’t help.
Save them from Her!
Stop Her!
Don’t be fooled by Her lies.
Don’t listen to Her song.
The house is not the same when She returns.
Starve Her.
She is Hunger.
Make Her starve.
Protect the spirits from Her.
Guide them home.
The wand seems to blur as it whirls and dips through the air. The dazzling colors enchant, even as their awful message turns my heart to ice.
Lif, drained by his passionate outburst, says nothing more.
“That is what we needed.” I speak slowly and seriously. “I think that we all now know what we must do.”
“Aye.” Eliana nods. “But that does not mean that we know how to do it.”
“This is true.” Vaikner grimaces. “We do not yet possess all the knowledge and tools that we require.
I smile encouragingly at my friends.
“Perhaps this is so.” I answer simply. “But yet we have been granted this chance to right a grievous wrong! We must speak more now. And make our plans wisely.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope that you enjoyed this chronicle of the aftermath of our party’s night out in Waterdeep.
I have several songs that play along in my mind for this chapter:
For Elodie’s desert-flight:
Take Flight, Lindsey Stirling
Trust Me, Elton John
Phantom of the Opera, Prague Cello Quartet
For the conversation that Elodie is now having with the mysterious voice in her visions, with her Lady of the Wind and Skies, with her family, with herself…
Ikar, Michał Wiśniewski, Etiennette Wiśniewska.
For Heron Renestrae’s conversation with Elodie. And what this Elder Elf may feel while counseling a naive young knight:
Strażnik Raju, Piotr Rubik, Grzegorz Wilk
For the Shrines of Nature:
Lady Of Flowers, Filip Lackovic
Please also visit my playlist on Spotify. I will be populating this with all of our campaign tunes as we adventure onwards:
Finally, I forgot to include a translation of the song playing at Felzoun’s Folly when our group meets Uza for the first time. Here it is, along with translations of the other Polish songs for this chapter:
Kocham Cię, Kochanie Moje
I love you, My Love
I love you, my Love
I love you, and my love
Is a clearing hidden in forest thicket
I love you, my Love
I love you, and my love
Is a spring orchard, balmy and drowsy
I love you, my Love
I love you, and my love
Is partings and reunions
And suddenly bells are ringing
And my body is aflame
I love you
I love you, my Love
I love you, and my love
Are your eyes, gazing into mine
I love you, my Love
I love you, and my love
Is unending yearning
I love you, my Love
I love you, and my love
Is partings and reunions
And suddenly bells are ringing
And my body is aflame
I love you
I love you, my Love
I love you, and my love
Is the memory of the first caresses
I love you, my Love
I love you, and my love
Are the nights, sleepless with loving
I love you, my Love
It is partings and reunions
And suddenly bells are ringing
And my body is aflame
I love you.
Ikar
Icarus
There is a place somewhere in this world
Where beauty has no stain
There is thought without falsehood
There you will find yourself
I know that there is a flame in your mind
You want to know the answers to everything
But I think that you know this for yourself
Age follows its own path
I have a few issues with this world
Which cards did cheating Fate deal me?
To whom do I address my application for survival?
Who wants to deceive me?
Do not let anyone tell you anything
I am here to guard you from harm
Listen well to the voice of your heart, My Love
You always have me beside you
I know, I know, you could even now
Raise up an amber palace here nearby
I know that you would like to give me everything
But I do not know if I want this
No! No! That is not what I wanted
But I have not forgotten how bad things can feel
I know how closeness dies
If no one holds her tightly
Maybe we should go to the ends of the world together?
Like Icarus, learn to fly together?
But do not deceive our wings with wax
Do not land in the depths
Maybe it is worth stopping for a moment
Like a tree that bends before the gales
Root into the earth and never let yourself be broken
Come what will
There is a place somewhere in this world
Where beauty has no stain
There is a world that does not divide
Somewhere where everything has its time
Somewhere there is simple faith in love
There is that which we dreamt of
There is a force of goodwill
Somewhere, nothing hurts us.
Strażnik Raju
Guardian of Paradise
I climbed up to Eden’s gates
To get a glimpse of the world of Paradise
I said – I want to talk to the Angel
The grey-headed guardian before the bars
Paradise’s guardian asked me why
I journeyed to the Heavenly gates
I said that I wish for some proof
That when my time passes – I will not be alone
It is not easy to understand even this
That every morning the sun shines
That this world will be shaped
By children as yet unborn
I asked about the meaning in my life
And I asked about truth
He said – my son, the difficulty is that
You have been lost throughout your life
Heaven’s guardian laughed and confessed
That we waste time in talking
Because even if I learn something
It will make no difference in the end
No, no, no
It is not easy to understand even this
That every morning the sun shines
That this world will be shaped
By children as yet unborn
It is not easy…
What will happen to this world
When we pass into memory
And how to live your life
To change this world just a little for the better
Before a falling star fell at our feet
The guardian took me into Eden
And there, just like in my grandmother’s orchard,
Were plum trees in bloom
It is not easy to understand even this
That every morning the sun shines
That this world will be shaped
By children as yet unborn
It is not easy…
Tears of the Seldarine 
Leave a comment