Chapter Fifteen: A Guiding Hand.

26th Mirtul, Year of Three Ships Sailing (1492 D.R.), just before dawn.

I wake in the shy light that comes before true morning. It is the twenty-sixth of Mirtul and the night of the New Moon is two days away.

This thought brings me to full awareness. I begin to stretch and then freeze, abruptly still, as I feel an unfamiliar weight draped over my shoulders. Looking blearily down, I see a luxurious fall of fabric, midnight blue with silver trim, cascading over my back. I smell tulips and mint. It is Aubray’s beautiful warm cloak! And it is tucked over and around me snugly enough to trap me in my bed like a velvety cocoon. My roommate herself is sitting across the chamber from me. Her eyes are open and reflecting newly-remembered stars in her reverie.

I knew she liked me! I mean, I never had any doubt that we would become good friends. But I am still very touched to feel this tangible sign of her care for me. Taking a deep breath, I free myself from my solicitously enveloping cover. Not wishing to disturb Aubray, I start to tip-toe out of the room. I get as far as the doorway.

“Elodie? You don’t have to creep about, I am myself.” She sniffs quietly.

“Thank you for covering me with your cloak!” I turn to Aubray with a smile.

“You looked cold.” She shrugs carelessly. “How have things been with you?”

“As you are out of your reverie now. And kind enough to ask…” I cross the room in a few quick steps, bounding back to settle on my bed.

I launch into a full account of all that has occurred since Aubray and I last spoke.

“So you see, an ominous new threat has arisen in the Deep.” I conclude breathlessly. “Tonight, my companions and I encountered a truly frightening incursion of the Undead into this plane. And, while it was very pleasing to gain a new ally in Saer Everrest – a friend who stands with us, steadfast against this corruption – I am dismayed to report that dark forces are gathering here. My – our – conclusion is that a Necromancer is attempting to raise an army of Unquiet Dead. Fallen warriors to be enslaved for some doubtlessly malevolent purpose!”

Aubray is staring at me, wide-eyed.

“Do not distress yourself, my friend!” I hurry to cheer her. “I have a plan. That is, well, I plan to call on the Elders of your Order, actually. To beg for their able assistance. Sehanine Moonbow’s priests will surely see that an incursion such as this cannot be…wait! Where are you going?”

My roommate is on her feet and striding to the door before I have finished speaking. She beckons impatiently as she leaves the room.

“Why are you just sitting there? I thought you wanted to see the Soul Fletcher. We are going. Now.” She states calmly.

Aubray leads me far up the tower, through winding passages that are unfamiliar to me. She hurries me past several ivory-hued carved stone arches, prodding me brusquely on when I pause to admire their delicate, lace-like designs. At last, we enter a large round chamber crowned with a curving canopy of crystals and silver. I realize that we have reached the top level of the tower when I see the glow of the last stars of morning. It is filtered gently through the moonstones fixed into the room’s shining ceiling. Dawn has come and the chamber is filled with a soft, kind light.

Standing at the far end of the room is the Soul Fletcher, the Elder priest of Aubray’s Order. She is a Moon Elf with glittering frost-blue skin and silver hair. Her advanced age is evident from the myriad starry pinpoints swirling through the depths of her eyes. The room smells of hyacinths and wild heather and beeswax.

“Aubray,” her voice is calm and remote. “Do you come with new information? About the matter you brought to my attention earlier?”

“I told her about the problems you were having with the spirits in your new house” Aubray offers as a quick aside to me. 

My lips part in surprise but I absorb her words silently. Mostly I am relieved that I do not have to retell the ghastly tale of Trollskull Manor yet again. 

“No, Soul Fletcher.” Aubray is explaining politely. “We – she brings a new set of concerns to you.”

With this, Aubray turns to me. I give a little jolt under her demanding stare, and then step forward. 

“Greetings, Revered Elder. I am Elodie, Elodie Skyshard. A Raptor of Aerdrie Faenya, I have traveled here from…” I begin formally.

“I know who you are, Young One. And I know why you are here. I welcomed your eager glow to this Tower.” The Soul Fletcher interrupts me, her voice dreamy and distant.

A little unnerved, I watch as the regal Moon Elf draws closer. As she approaches, she nods at Aubray. The strange remoteness leaves her face and she smiles kindly at us both. Encouraged I start, once more, to speak.

I describe my experience at the City of the Dead. I talk of the string of desecrations that my companions and I were investigating, of the newest eruption of Undead from the mausoleum of the Tchazzam family, and of our battle to destroy the seething skeletons before they could join the Necromancer that had summoned them. I dwell on Saer Everrest’s determination and courage and impressive skills in healing. It takes a fair length of time to do justice to it all. To our complicated tale, that is.

“It was the fourth such attack – such blatant theft of Restful Dead – at the City. No matter his dedication, one Human knight cannot stand alone against this foe. He needs help.” I conclude.

I pause, striving to loosen my tightly-wound curls. The Soul Fletcher’s graceful figure is still and her face calm and ageless in the soft light. Aubray steps up to stand next to me.

“Soul Fletcher, the time I have spent with Elodie convinces me that she would not bring these matters to your attention if they were not serious. I believe her.” She says.

She goes on, petitioning the Soul Fletcher for assistance, for some little time after that. I do not recall the remainder of what she says: I am too overpowered by her first words. She believes me! Is willing to vouch for me! I beam at Aubray, grateful to have my friend supporting me at such an important moment. Pausing to fastidiously straighten her skirts, she ignores my grin.

The room is quiet. The Soul Fletcher seems to be absorbing all that we have told her. She closes her eyes and her face stills into an expressionless mask as she once more enters a reflective state.

I understand that the High Priest is taking time to consider her response. I wait patiently; I would never dare to interrupt the Elder’s musings. Aubray’s doubts regarding my manners, revealed through sharply forbidding looks and meaningful shakes of her head, are entirely unwarranted. They do, however, lend her a sudden and striking resemblance to Eliana. 

Finally, to my enormous relief, the Soul Fletcher stirs.

“The souls of departed Humans do not travel to Arvendor as we do but that does not mean that they deserve to be disturbed on their journey to Kelemvor’s City of Judgment. We will help this Saer Everrest. I will send a cadre of Soul Arrows to assist the Doomguide in his watch. They will help the knight protect the Human resting places until those of his own Order arrive to aid him.” She says.

“That is wonderful news! Indeed, I did promise… I assured Saer Everrest that he could expect help from the Elves of the Temple!” I exclaim happily.

The Elder’s eyes narrow.

“Do you wish me to be part of the group that watches over the City of the Dead, Soul Fletcher?” Aubray asks quickly.

“I had thought to assign you to these hauntings at Trollskull Manor. I intended for you to help Elodie and her companions discover more about the spirits of this place and assist in laying them to rest.” The Moon Elf replies.

“Oh!” I am surprised and pleased. “ We have in fact learned more about that house since our first visit there.”

 I rapidly pass on the newest information about Gristlegums and the horrific visitation we expect on the night of the New Moon. 

The two Moon Elves exchange a long look. 

“Elodie, I will leave this decision to you.” The Soul Fletcher says. “Do you think it more important to have Aubray come to the manor and attempt to guide the souls of the lost children to the City of Judgement? Or would you have her join the fleet of Soul Arrows in their patrols, aiding the Doomguide as needed?”

I hesitate for only an instant. Naturally, I wish for Saer Everrest to have all the help possible. But I recognize that, without Aubray’s guidance, there is little hope for the souls of the fledglings trapped by the Hag. 

“Please have Aubray continue her preparations to help at Trollskull Manor.” I whisper.

The Soul Fletcher nods slowly, and then sinks into thoughtful silence once again. It seems that our audience with the High Priest of Sehanine Moonbow is at an end.

Following another unnecessarily stern look from Aubray, I bow respectfully. The Elder Elf nods and her face is alight with gentle radiance as she bestows her Lady’s blessing upon us.

“May your Soul find its way, whole and entire, to Arvendor and then onto your new life in this plane.” I wince only slightly to hear the Soul Fletcher’s gracious words of farewell.

As I leave the chamber, the blessing rings disagreeably in my ears. I have had my fill of conversation; of the strained contemplation of death and the dead. My arms ache to hold Gust and Gale. And to forget mournful introspection in intricate sword dance with more…martially inclined Elves. 

Steps growing jaunty as I eagerly plan the shortest route to Corellon’s estuary, with its fine training yard, it takes me a moment to realize that Aubray has fallen behind. I look back at my roommate, finding that she has pointedly come to a halt. She is gazing very seriously at me. Sighing inwardly, I realize that she does not consider our talk done. I return to her side and smile at her encouragingly.

“Elodie, do you know whether Lif, the other spirit in that house, will wish to pass on? Along with the souls of the lost children?” Aubray remains solemn.

Taken aback, I feel a pang of guilt. I had quite forgotten Lif! 

“I am not certain. He seemed happy to remain at Trollskull Manor. If it was ever returned to its former joyous life as a public house, that is.” I shrug. “I will ask him. And I will help you with any of your preparations where I can be of assistance. If you do not need my help I will busy myself with other tasks. And, if not sooner, I will meet you at our chamber one hour before sunset two nights hence. From there we will join the company at the manor.”

Aubray does not ask for any help from me and makes no objections to my plan for the coming days. 

“Thank you for taking me to see the Soul Fletcher. And for speaking for me! It meant a great deal.” I continue enthusiastically. “ I knew that we would become the best of friends!”

I place a companionable hand on her shoulder, smiling sunnily enough to illuminate the sleepy temple hallways. Aubray squirms, mutters something about needing to get to prayers, and hurries away.

Walking through shifting, salt-laden breezes to the training yard, I too take time to commune with my Lady – I have much to think upon and much to be grateful for.  

After sword drills, twirling and dipping as Corellon’s warriors tutor me in their deceptively simple, elegantly vicious footwork, I am ravenously hungry. Piling my plate high, I relish the hearty fare at today’s morning feast: bread uneaten the day before, sliced and baked with cream, honey and fruit into a buttery, berry-infused delight. It is most comforting.

Returning to my room and discarding clothing that feels uncomfortably constricting against my full stomach, I skip off to bathe. Although I select my clean attire and prepare myself with more than my usual care, I still have ample time before I am to meet with Eliana and Vaikner. So, in no hurry, I walk. Taking in all the sights and sounds of the bustling Deep streets on this sun-filled day. I arrive at the Halls of Justice in fine spirits. 

At this hour of the morning, there is a great deal more activity in front of the spacious stone hall than we encountered at sunset yesterday. Curious, I stop to observe a group of agile figures sparring in the court yard. They are mostly young Humans, but not all. Their leader, for one, is a female Dwarf, scar-skinned and gruff-voiced. I do not wish to disturb her but I offer a polite greeting, as well as some merry words of encouragement, to several of the students as I pass. I do not linger to receive their replies. I am eager to see if Saer Savra is at her post today.

“Good day to you, Saer Savra. I hope that you are well this morning.” I am pleased to find the doughty knight sitting just where we first met her the day before. “I am Elodie, Elodie Skyshard. My friends and I sought out the Doomguide at the City of the Dead yesterday, as you instructed. I am here to report what we discovered. And to deliver this letter.”

Saer Savra is frowning over a ledger on her desk. She looks up, eyes a little tired but still clear and that same startling pale green, as she focuses on me.

“Yes, of course. Good morning to you. How did you find matters in the City? Is Saer Everrest well?” She asks. 

For the third time this morning, I start to tell the story of our encounter with the Undead in the City. This time I merely sketch out the tale’s outline before handing Saer Savra the Doomguide’s letter. Hoping that this holds a detailed account of last night’s events, I allow Saer Everrest’s words to fill in any gaps in my story.

I listen to the distant clamor and call of battle training filtering through the cool air of the hall’s entryway. Saer Savra bends her head over Saer Everrest’s letter in studious silence. Standing close to her desk as I am, I struggle to avoid the inadvertent reflex to do the same. I admit that my eyes drop to the pages, more than once. It is frustratingly difficult to make out much in the tightly flowing lines of script. But I do notice a few phrases that seem pleasingly complimentary. My previously fine mood improves even more.

Forcing my eyes politely upward, I study Saer Savra. I notice that, in addition to the talisman of Tyr around her neck, she also wears a silver chain bearing a silver sword. The sword’s blade is grasped, just below its hilt, by a finely worked armored gauntlet. An unusual design. It cries of dire need; there is such desperation in stopping a sword thrust in that last possible moment. And only by grasping the blade with one’s hand. It also suggests great valor. And unwavering determination.

Raising my gaze further, I am intrigued to see that Saer Savra has a feather tucked jauntily into her short hair. A large sleek feather that, when touched by a stray beam of sunlight, shimmers opalescent through a series of warm tones. It glows cream, then shifts through gold-tan to rich chocolate brown. 

“I like your feather!” I blurt out admiringly. 

Saer Savra glances up at my face for a moment before looking directly ahead. At my sword belt.

“I like yours” she replies. “What manner of beast does it come from?”

“A Snow Eagle” I answer.

I still, and always, feel slight surprise when those outside the Aerie fail to recognize this symbol of my most cherished accomplishment. A hollow moment of longing for home. 

“It is a mark of my standing as a Warden of the Snow Eagles, a guardian of my People. You may recall I told you something of this when we spoke yesterday?” I continue proudly.

“I do remember” she smiles.

“What about your feather – where does it come from?” I ask.

“A griffon. My family, the Belabrontes, are responsible for breeding and raising griffons for the protection of Waterdeep.” she states matter-of-factly.

I gasp with delighted surprise.

“A griffon? How wonderful! Your family prepares warrior griffons for the Aerial Cavalry of Waterdeep? I…I have long admired these airborne defenders of the city and their mounts!” I cannot contain my enthusiasm. “I have read a great deal about griffons! They are such fine creatures. And there are so many stirring tales of their valiant deeds during battle in the skies above Waterdeep!”

I pause for breath and see that Saer Savra’s sea-glass eyes have lit up with pleasure. Her lined face looks suddenly much younger.

She regales me with fascinating details about the griffon breeding colonies that her family manages, the raising and training of these unique animals, and many interesting facts about Waterdeep’s brave Aerial Cavalry. I am not certain how long we talk before Saer Savra starts with recollection.

“But you are not here to learn about the preferred training methods to get young griffons flying in proper formation.” She reluctantly turns her attention to the letter on the table and her voice grows more formal. “Saer Everrest tells me that your help was invaluable last night. He highly commends your principles, your honor, and your courage; this is sufficient for me. I am pleased to invite you to join the Order of the Gauntlet.”

Blushing with pleasure, my air warmed by such praise, I bow in acceptance.

Saer Savra grows more serious still, rising from her seat and unlocking an ornate cabinet tucked amongst the tidy document cubbies behind her. With a ceremonial flourish, she retrieves an armored gauntlet in silver and, holding it out in front of her, steps around her desk to stand before me. The knight helps me put the heavy gauntlet onto my right hand. I smell armor polish and something sweet, like incense. Standing directly across from me and very solemn now, Saer Savra draws her sword. She stretches her arm towards me, turning the sword deftly so that the point of the blade is turned down to the ground. She instructs me to grasp the blade, just below the hilt. My fingers, clumsier than usual in the stiff gauntlet, curl around the sharp steel. I have recreated the image from Saer Savra’s necklace.

“Very good. Now repeat these words after me. This is the vow of those in our Order.” The knight instructs me.

A gentle breeze stirs my air and I hear a soft musical note. Like the distant call of seagulls over cresting waves. Awe wakens within me, as does the growing conviction that I am doing as my Lady intends. I repeat after Saer Savra the words of the oath:

“ I, Elodie Skyshard of Pelvuria, am a bastion against evil and tyranny, my faith my armor.

I will strike down those that do ill unto others and wisely counsel those that would start down dark paths against their temptations.

I will draw strength from my own devotion and from that of others around me, even if their god is not my own.

So faith tempers and strengthens faith.

Upon this blade and gauntlet I swear my oath to my god, to my comrades in arms, and to myself.”

I faithfully echo the older knight and, when our sober voices fall silent, Saer Savra looks at me gravely and then nods. She sheaths her sword, takes the gauntlet off my wrist and, after returning it to its place, steps back towards me. She holds something that glints and shimmers, even in the dim light of the hall.

The knight hands me an argent chain. I take it, staring at a symbol slowly spinning, flaring with silver fire, at the end of the necklace. A sword held fast by an armored gauntlet – just like the one that Saer Savra is wearing herself. She nods again and I put on the chain. As it settles on the curve of my chest, I can feel its reassuring weight. It is surprisingly heavy for such a small object. And…I breathe in slowly as I reach for a scent that eludes me. There is a power here that I have not previously encountered. 

My Snow Eagle feather is a precious symbol of belonging. An indisputable assertion that I earned my place with the Wardens. But this…the necklace of the Order of the Gauntlet brings an immediate and dizzying sense of connection with all the other fighters and faithful that wear one like it. I am shaken, overwhelmed by the tie that now seems to bind me to all of them. I feel an inexplicable certainty that this silver symbol would allow me to call for their aid if needed.

Saer Savra is speaking. I shake my head, struggling to focus on the knight. The overpowering feeling of oneness with a myriad other fighters fades. But I will not forget it. It is the unlooked-for, but deeply comforting, recognition that I am no longer alone as I walk the path of my Lady’s light.

“Well, Saer Skyshard, if memory serves, you have some reading that you need to do. I can show you to the Temple’s library. If you wish.” Saer Savra’s eyes are twinkling.

Of course! Ushien Stormbringer! I still have time to pursue my research before I meet up with my companions. I follow Saer Savra eagerly, hoping that I will have some useful new knowledge to share with Eliana and Vaikner when I see them again.

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I hope that you enjoyed this chronicle of Elodie’s making friends and being influenced by people. She is so happy to find like-minded individuals in this kaleidoscopically-scented, enticing, perplexing city! It is difficult to fault her: she has been alone and unable to trust anyone for quite a long time. And now, fortunately for her, she seems to have met those worthy of her confidence and admiration…

For Elodie’s rapturously optimistic walk through the sunny streets of Waterdeep, on her way to the Halls of Justice and whatever promise the day may hold (Eng. translation below):

Och Życie, Kocham Cię nad Życie, Edyta Geppert.

Please also visit my playlist on Spotify. I will be populating this with all of our campaign tunes as we adventure onwards:

Och Życie, Kocham cię nad Życie

Oh Life, I love you above Life.

Stubbornly and secretly

Oh life I love you, I love you, I love you above life

Through all weather

My young eyes can discern

Your dangerous beauty

I love you life

I yearn to explore you, I yearn for you, I yearn for you in rapture

Though you darken my colors

I believe in the light that scatters the dark

I believe in the constancy of hope

Hope in the light out on the sandbar

That will show me the way in the mist

It will not betray me

It will not abandon me

And I will whisper in secret

Oh Life I love you, I love you, I love you more than life

Though you darken my colors

Though you do not make my journey easier

Though you reciprocate only grudgingly

I love you life

When the dream ends, ends, ends at sunrise

And I throw myself with new hope into the wakening day

On this day 

I want to meet a person who feels as I do

I want to confide in him

Entrust him with my disquiet

In his eyes

I want to see that light that makes him say

As I do, as I do

Stubbornly and secretly

Oh life I love you, I love you, I love you above life.

I eat an apple sour like wine

And I think, “Oh life, you cause my tears but I would not exchange you for another”

I love you life

I yearn to explore you, I yearn for you, I yearn for you in rapture

And I yearn to meet a person who loves life like I do

And, as I do, has hope.