Chapter Twenty-one: Fresh air

26th Mirtul, Year of Three Ships Sailing (1492 D.R.), ten bells after highsun.

“Poppy, we know that you are a good girl. And we know that what happened was not your fault. But can you tell us a little about your corn husk dolls? How many were there? And when did they start talking to you?” 

Now that she is calmer, we all repeat variations of those questions. Treating Poppy gently but urgently needing to find out more about what happened at the Meadery. 

Still stumbling over shyness and frightening memories, Poppy reveals that she had originally made one corn husk doll. Then, a little while ago, Poppy accidentally left the doll out in the rain. It was after this that the toy began talking to her. 

“It wanted things. Little things that didn’t seem to matter much.” Poppy gulps and briefly hides her face in Blossom’s skirts.

“What sorts of things, Poppet?” Her Mama probes.

“It wanted me to find and bring home mushrooms. Only a few kinds. It was particular. And it said to leave the laundry on the line outside. Even when it was getting damp. And this one time it told me to leave the silo door open. So the rain could come in and wash over the harvest.” Poppy squeaks out.

“Then it told me to make another doll. One just like it. And to leave that one inside the old mill. It said that if I was good and did what it asked, my dad would come home.” The little girl starts to sob quietly once more.

Sickened by the cruelty revealed here, I try to organize my thoughts. Which fiendish presence would so heartlessly manipulate a child? Alas, I fear that the answer is: almost all of them. There can be no use in speculating about which denizen of the Blighted Planes will display more obscene talent, more exquisite skill, at inflicting pain. I feel a growing sense of dread. My air still carries the subtle miasma of that fetid field. Shuddering, I unwillingly recall the roiling masses of stalks erupting from befouled earth all about us. Did we triumph over a nightmare of mysterious corruption targeting Undercliff? Or merely push back the first attack in a larger incursion by some dark power? Fear grips my heart.

Poppy, though, has started to calm. She nods solemnly as we reassure her that she is safe, that she is not in any trouble, and that we all understand that she was simply tricked by the lying doll. She leans her head sleepily on her mother’s chest and seems about to drift off. But there is still a pinched look to her face that I do not like.

“Blossom, I am worried about this community.” I lean forward, speaking earnestly. “I believe that Poppy is now safe from direct fiendish influence. And, once we have rested and regained our reserves of spiritual strength, Sister and I will of course heal everyone in your household. We will see to this at first light tomorrow. But this…this manipulation of Poppy’s grief and all that it led to…This is more than I am equipped to handle. Are there any churches or temples nearby? Any priests serving kindly deities that you could call upon to look at Poppy again? To help make sure that her soul is fully healed and to cleanse your land of whatever foul presence remains? It would be the safest thing to do.”

I am pleased to see that Blossom is thinking seriously over my words. 

“Well, that is the sort of thing that Galerina would have helped us with. Before she disappeared…” she muses.

“I think that Lady Jeryth needs to be informed of all of this.” A sonorous voice unexpectedly joins the conversation.

I had almost forgotten about Sister; she is still curled quietly up with Gallop.

“Who is Lady Jeryth?” More than one voice calls out.

“Lady Jeryth is the Head of the Emerald Enclave in Waterdeep. Galerina is an Enclave member and she is missing. Lady Jeryth should be told about this. Also, she should know that there was a fungoid demon trying to cast its spores over Undercliff. She should definitely know about that. We should go see her. As soon as we get back to the Deep. Especially because my brother works for Lady Jeryth. And I always enjoy seeing him.”

Her gravely laconic explanation done, Sister settles back down near the hearth.

“That is an excellent plan!” I cry. “I have read about the Emerald Enclave. And your Lady Jeryth sounds like just the knowledgeable Elder that Undercliff has need of. While it recovers from the current…strangeness.”

Also, while I do not speak this aloud, the rather unique contributions that Sister has brought to our combat and to our conversations, leave me filled with curiosity to meet her brother.

Eliana and Vaikner are nodding smiles at Sister when Beltin and Cathilda return from the kitchen. They are less agitated than before and fresh resolve shines from their eyes. Their fingers are stained with soot.

“We have burned all the mushrooms in this house. And there were many: fresh, dried, and pickled.” Beltin announces triumphantly.

“Cathilda!” Blossom calls brusquely. “Go to the kitchen and fetch a bottle of the Old Peculiar for us to share. That’s a good girl.”

Cathilda turns and trots back off to where she came from. Blossom’s arms tighten around her drowsing daughter and her voice softens.

“This is the true specialty of the Meadery. Us Snobeedles have won great renown with this recipe. We will have one of the last…one of the last bottles laid down by Dandin.”

She smoothes Poppy’s damp curls away from her face. No one speaks and, before long, the efficient Cathilda is back with bottle and glasses.

Deeply touched by Blossom’s kind gesture, I would have taken any refreshment offered by our generous host. But, as the rich liquid is poured out and the smoky sweet fragrance of fall apples fills the room, I realize that Old Peculiar is something truly special. After our murmured chorus of thanks, an appreciative silence falls over the room. I sip the light golden brew and taste the distillation of an entire autumn of sunshine falling on sweet apples. It is very fine.

The ritual of raising glasses together soothes everyone. An exhausted tranquillity settles over our company. Poppy snores lightly, curled up on her mother’s lap. The Hin are all seated close together around the cheerily flickering fireplace. They seem to finally be taking comfort from each other’s nearness.

I too turn to my friends, stepping up to where Eliana and Vaikner stand, a little removed from the Snobeedle clan. Lulled into peace, watching Poppy’s sweet sleep, I missed some of the talk between my companions. Vaikner is avidly questioning Eliana. She replies unenthusiastically.

“Well yes, the prophecy is why I came to Waterdeep in the first place. Following the clues…I mean ‘in Waters Deep’ and ‘The answer lies among the Lords’. Those certainly seemed fairly obvious.

And now, ‘reaching tendril’, ‘creeping rot’, I think that must refer to what we came up against here, in Undercliff. We seem to have nipped those in the bud…”

She pauses, grins slightly, and then looks at Vaikner and myself expectantly. Seeing blankly attentive looks, she snorts with irritation.

“It was a fine victory…” I say uncertainly, exchanging glances of helpless confusion with Vaikner

He shrugs.

“Anyway,” she continues, peeved, “Yes. We seem to have defeated that threat. Which, I suppose, is good? It just does not feel like this would be it. Like it would be so neat.”

“The ‘grasping claw’ does not fit with anything we encountered tonight.” I begin. “Nor does ‘the questing eye’…”

Vaikner breaks in excitedly.

“Do you remember the cache of swords?” He keeps his voice low, looking back briefly at the Hin. 

Our hosts are still sipping their mead quietly, worn out by the shocks of the evening.

“The swords that we found at Trollskull Manor? And the note that was with them?” Rummaging through his things, he pulls out a carefully folded piece of paper.

“Here it is!” He points out triumphantly. “It speaks of Stillwater, in the Mere of Dead Men. And of the Lords of the Maw!”

We absorb this information in silence.

“Well,” Eliana says calmly. “I suppose I know where I’m going next.”

She raises her cup, draining the last of the mead with relish. Then hopefully tilts the vessel even higher in case she missed any of the gleaming drops.

“After I help you.” She forestalls Vaikner’s protest. “You did me a favor coming here and I appreciate it. I’ll help you with your tasks in Waterdeep. Before I leave.”

Pensively, I finish my own mead.

“I do think that there is more to it, Eliana. Does it not feel strange? We have encountered so many odd difficulties. So much seems to be happening at once! All of this…it begins to feel like part of something larger.

“The escalating gang warfare and the kidnapping of the disgraced Open Lord’s son in an attempt to recover some unknown treasure? The arrival of the Thayans and the necromantic activity in the City of the Dead? This mysterious and foul corruption on the local farms? Even the hag intensifying its haunting, arising now to strengthen itself on the spirits of cannibalized children?”

My air swirls rapidly about me as my voice grows more impassioned. Eliana and Vaikner glance over worriedly at the Halflings. Then look back with warning to me.

“Every city has gang warfare. The fights in Waterdeep are nothing new.” Eliana states flatly.

“Perhaps so.” I respond, testily. “But I am referring to a greater picture that seems to be forming here. All of us, meeting in this moment. Arriving in the Deep now. Vaikner with his Book and me searching for the Tears and you with your Prophecy…

 And, immediately, we are met with a series of strange events. Does it not feel like these are the first attacks in a larger incursion intended to destabilize the peace of our times? It is as if there were one evil will, one malignant Being plotting from afar. Perhaps sending various foes, various threats, from different directions? Operating through a screen of proxies. It is testing our weaknesses, seeing where it can make gains. There is too much happening for it be be dismissed as simple coincidence! Does it not feel connected? Your own Prophecy seems to support this!”

I can see that my excitedly spreading cloud of hair, and the frosty air that wafts it outward, have alarmed the Hin. And, even more distressingly, I fear that I have shared too grim, too grandiose, of a vision with my companions. I have failed to convince them of the threat that I believe gathers against us all.

“I hear what you have said, Elodie.” Eliana’s carefully measured tone confirms my fear. “It’s an interesting perspective.”

She does not believe me but she is being kind. I try to appreciate that.

“Right, it’s been an exceptionally long evening. Many of us are still unwell and we should try to get as much sleep as we can. We’ll want to start early. To see if we can get rid of this contagion. And then Vai, Elodie, Sister, and I will visit the Sweetwater family. To break the news of their son’s passing.” Eliana briskly reverts to more practical matters.

“I know that they must be told.” Blossom sighs. “And I thank you for being willing to do it. But please…please remember that it has been a long time now that our families have not been friends. I worry about what they may do. Please do not tell them about Poppy. I ask that you leave out anything to do with that damn doll and Poppy when you talk about these matters outside of the Meadery.”

“Trust me.” Eliana nods, voice steady. “Poppy will be safe. We won’t do or say anything to endanger her.

 “And now it really is getting late. As we don’t know just how this corruption will affect us, I suggest that none sleep alone tonight.”

“Very well.” Blossom rises carefully to her feet, still holding the sleeping Poppy. “I will stay with Poppy in her room. You two are welcome to take your rest in my bed.” She gestures to myself and Eliana.

“As for everyone else: I think there are enough armchairs and sofas in here. May be best if all of you remained in this room together. And it’s nice and toasty by the fire.”

Nobody objects to Blossom’s suggestion. Beltin, Cathilda, and Vaikner make the most comfortable beds that they can out of the soft seats in the living room. Sister chooses a shape that guarantees her a cozy night. She turns into a large dog, a twin to Gallop, and curls up to share the mastiff’s warmth near the dying embers of the fire.

Blossom briefly points out her bedroom door, before turning to Poppy’s room, her fledgling in her arms. Blossom’s chamber is large and contains a solid bed overhung by a curtained canopy to keep out droughts of fresh air. Fortunately, there is also a smaller divan against one wall. Just under an open window. I happily offer to sleep there. Eliana barely acknowledges my suggestion, her pace quickening as she heads directly for the pillow-scattered bed.

I look for water and, after brief ablutions, return to find Eliana blissfully buried under a thick pile of quilts on Blossom’s fine bed. I settle onto the divan, turning about and wriggling my toes experimentally for a few moments. Then, snuggling under my own stack of blankets, I inhale deeply. The fragrance of dew and almond blossoms wafts in through the window and mixes with my air. I sigh with pleasure as the last residue of musty corruption disappears from the night. 

I feel refreshed and my mind is now full of questions.

“Eliana?”

“Yes, Elodie?” she responds sleepily.

“Blossom said she was worried about enmity between her kin and the Sweetwater clan. And asked that we do not reveal Poppy’s involvement in these events when we talk to anyone outside of the Meadery. How do you think…I mean, how will that be possible? It was not Poppy’s fault but she was central to what happened here. And truth is important.” I fidget with the window latch.

“Yes, truth is important, Elodie.” Eliana rearranges her cushions more comfortably. “But we have to protect Poppy also. It’s a case of using one’s best judgement. To determine when will honesty cause more harm than it will good.”

“Hmmm. Honesty causing harm is an odd concept. And I am here to protect Poppy. For a time at least. I will, of course, have to take my Quen and Vess and leave to complete my own tasks eventually. I begin to see why this may be a delicate matter. 

“But…but I have always preferred to speak the plain truth. And, even if forced, while in service to my Lady or to my Elders, to leave something unsaid…well, once I start to speak it is often difficult to know when to stop.” I fret.

“Don’t worry.” Eliana’s voice is thickening with fatigue. “Just let me do the talking tomorrow. I will handle it.”

“Yes. That would probably be best.” I agree.

I lay back, pulling a warm wool blanket over myself. I listen as my companion’s breathing becomes steady and even.

“Eliana?”

“Yes, Elodie?” Eliana asks, determinedly patient.

“What happened to Pip tonight – will he be able to do that again? Grow very large and strong? And fight with us?” I question.

“I…I don’t know. He’s never done that before and I’m not sure what it means.” Eliana replies uncertainly.

“Oh. Alright.” 

Gentle wind rustles through the branches outside.

“Eliana?”

“Yes, Elodie?!” Eliana bursts out with groggy wrath.

“When we meet with Mirt tomorrow evening, do you think that we will need to watch the Opera once again? Perhaps we may simply meet with him and then leave again right away?”

I brood over the ordeal that a repeat of the overwrought musical performance would be.

“Well, Mirt didn’t seem to enjoy the show. So he’s unlikely to stay longer than he needs to. I would like to see the whole thing this time. But you can probably leave whenever you want to as well.” Eliana replies.

“That is true. He is likely to leave early. And I will too.” I announce with relief.

“Alright. Goodnight Elodie.” Eliana says stonily.

“Goodnight Eliana.” I reply sweetly.

This day has been a wearying one and I soon fall into a sound sleep. As has become fairly frequent, I am roused by the happy chirping tones of Mama. It is well into the second half of the night and velvety blackness surrounds me. I sit up, smiling at her greeting, and flicking the curtain aside from the window to look into the moonless, star-twinkling sky.

“Mama! I am well. Such an adventure we have had…”

My excited Elvish rings out, clear and merry, as I hurry to reassure Mama that I am alive. And endeavor to fit even a fraction of my recent experiences into a short message. I am just adding my affectionate goodbyes when I realize that Eliana is awake and glaring.

“What’s happening?! Are you possessed?” She grumps blearily. 

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Guiltily, I revert to Thoracian. “It was only my Mama. A message…I apologize for interrupting your rest!”

We return to peaceful slumber.

The next disturbance comes an unknown time later. This time I am awakened by Eliana, who bolts upright in her bed, tersely uttering a profanity.

“What is it? Are you quite well?” I wonder if the fungal contagion is taking hold of my companion.

“No – yes! I’m sorry Elodie. I had a very strange dream. That’s all.” Eliana is shaking her head uneasily as she lays back down.

“Alright. Rest well.” I mumble. 

The remainder of the night passes uneventfully. I wake to find pale dawn light peeking through the parted curtains. Cool air wafts in through the window. The house is very quiet.

I stretch luxuriantly, then, remembering the events of last night, bound out of bed and hurry over to Eliana. I lean over her pillow anxiously, examining her for any signs of illness. Her cheeks are splotches of red and pale and her breathing is shallow. Her hair is sodden with sweat. It smells like mushrooms.

“Eliana. Eliana! Wake up!” I hover over her, my air whipping around me, suddenly chilled. “Elie! Please wake up, Elie!”

She stirs sleepily. I lean in, watching wide-eyed for further encouraging signs of life.

“Whaa…aargh! What are you doing?” She startles fully awake.

“How are you feeling Elie?” I ask solicitously. “You look a little…clammy.”

“I do feel unwell.” She groans, holding her hand to her forehead. “I think I have a fever.”

Nervously, remembering my failure to help Pip the previous evening, I reach for Eliana’s face. I place my hand on her forehead and focus on Aerdrie Faenya’s healing gift. I see the patchy flush leave Elie’s face as the cooling breath of my Lady passes from me to her.

“Did it work? Are you better?” I ask anxiously.

“I think it did, yes. Yeah, definitely. I feel fine now. Thank you.” She exhales slowly,

Pip emerges from a fold of quilt and sniffs at Eliana curiously. His eyes are bead-bright and his little nose is cool. He seems to be his usual perky self; apparently he shook off the contagion when he abandoned his magically magnified form.

Buoyed by relief and eager to rid the remainder of the household of their contagion, I dress hurriedly while Eliana braids her hair into disciplined coils. Wincing a little to see the tightness of her plaits, I follow her down the hallway to check on the rest of the company. We head towards the sounds and smells of cooking coming from the kitchen. And meet Vaikner, Sister, and Beltin, on their way to find Cathilda.

“She cured me! Sister cured me!” Beltin greets us with elation. “And, while I feel most invigorated, most invigorated indeed, I think that I should prepare Cathilda a little for…Sister’s process. Just to give her a bit of warning about what she can expect to occur. You know. Before the mice start…swarming.”

He trots towards the kitchen, accompanied by a smiling Vaikner and a sober Sister.

“I’ll go with them. If you’ll check on Blossom and Poppy?” Elie turns towards the enticing aromas.

“Certainly.” 

I continue on, wincing sympathetically as Cathilda’s muffled shrieks follow me down the hallway.

I knock on Poppy’s door and, hearing Blossom’s quiet instruction to enter, go inside. The mother and daughter are cuddled together in Poppy’s bed. Blossom looks up at me, her face tired and eyes puffy from a sleepless night. Poppy is also a little pale. There is a faint smell of mushrooms lingering around them both.

“Hello, it is I, Elodie, Elodie Skyshard. I hope that you have been able to get some rest this night. I am here as a knight of the Lady of Winds and Skies. I would like to heal you now.” I speak gently as I approach the little girl.

I have had no previous dealings with Hin young. Except, well…when I burned Poppy’s fiendish doll. Cautiously, I reach a hand towards the little girl’s downy cheek.

“Do not bite me” I whisper.

 Blossom stiffens protectively beside me. I lay my free hand on her shoulder. I close my eyes. Beseeching my Lady to help these innocents, I channel Her healing breath to both Poppy and Blossom. I watch rosy color bloom in their cheeks. The room smells like milk and cinnamon.

Blossom stands, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you Saer Skyshard.” 

I acknowledge her with a respectful bow but I find that I cannot stop looking at the little Halfling girl. The thought of any creature hurting this child pierces my heart. Then, Poppy smiles sweetly up at me and the icy splinter of rage within me shatters. I blink fiercely as I stroke her tousled hair.

“I hope you feel better now, Little One.” I say thickly.

Looking up, I meet Blossom’s warm gaze . She nods at me.

“Right then. How about some breakfast my Dears?” She bustles us out of the bedroom.

In the kitchen, Cathilda is twirlingly busy. Awed, I realize that neither her illness nor Sister’s healing ministrations have impacted her culinary abilities. She is a truly excellent cook. We find the table, once again, groaning. Slices of tomatoes, each the size of my palm and juicily blistered by the grill, are joined by fluffy clouds of sunny scrambled eggs, fried bread dripping golden grease, and sizzling sausages, redolent of sage. There is also porridge, served with sides of rich yellow cream and a mixture of honeyed dried fruits and nuts.

Holding firm even in the face of such delights, Elie takes a moment to cast her yew leaves one final time. I think that none are more relieved than she is to confirm that the household, and the feast before us, are free of poison and disease. We set to with hearty appetites.

After a fine breakfast, we start to say our farewells. Blossom surprises us, choosing to mark the occasion with unexpected gifts. She sends Beltin down to the cellar with whispered words and smiles.

“Here. A bottle of Old Peculiar for each of you. A small token of our appreciation.” She hands us each a heavy flask as Beltin puffs and nods, beaming.

“And here is coin. You did not think that I would ask you to come here and risk yourselves for us for nothing?” Blossom continues.

I look at the gold in my hand, nonplussed.

“I thank you. But I did not help you so that I would receive payment! This is not necessary. Indeed, it is not right! I do not expect coin when I choose to aid others!” I stammer.

Blossom refuses to hear me. I look to my companions. Vaikner has pocketed the coin and is looking at his bottle of mead in delight, bowing to Blossom and Beltin. Elie regards me mildly, her small smile entirely neutral. And unhelpful. I consider all that Blossom has endured. Closing this painful chapter must bring her comfort. Regretfully, I realize that this includes sending us on our way with what she believes is an appropriate reward. Biting my lip, I say nothing more.

“This is all for me?” Sister asks hesitantly. “I have never actually had money of my own before.”

Eliana turns to Sister, smile softening in a way I have not seen before. She assures Sister that she has earned this coin and that it is hers to spend as she wishes. 

“I…I can get gifts for the goats.” Sister breathes, overwhelmed. “And get bees. I’ve wanted to get going with making honey. I could get beehives…”

Laughing delightedly, Elie promises to help Sister with her plans.

“How would this be?” Blossom interjects kindly. “I have some fine hives here. Our bees thrive on the apple blossoms and they keep our orchards flourishing. How about I send a couple of hives to your Shrines of Nature? Just to get you off to a good start with your bee-keeping endeavor?”

As all the company continue to exchange good wishes and gratitude, I shyly walk over to the corner of the room. There is a large pile of blankets there, bristling with hair and thick with dog-smell. Bending down, I reach out to Gallop and stroke his ears. I thrill at their silky softness. I am less pleased to receive Gallop’s enthusiastically wet slurp of thanks.

“Look after Poppy.” I whisper, wiping my chin.

His kind brown eyes turn from me. He gazes adoringly at his little friend as I walk away.

The sun is beaming through wispy clouds, promising a fine day, as we leave the Meadery. The main road is still a little damp but the fog has burned off the morning. The air is sweet and clear. We do not have far to go before we reach Sweetwater Manor. As we turn off the road to follow the meandering lane to the family home, a rider approaches.

It is a Human man, tall and fair-skinned. He looks like an older, more bulky, version of the dead young man we found last night. My heart trembles.

“Good morning to you!” He calls politely. “I wonder, have you seen a young man on your travels here-about? Looks like me. My brother, in fact. Lester, my brother, did not come home last night. Have you seen him?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope that you enjoyed this account of revelation (welcome and unwelcome, accepted and rejected), rest, and healing. It was good for our adventurers to spend their night in (relative) peace. Gathering strength for the trials that are sure to come…

For Poppy and her new fairy dragon:

Contact with the Ohmu, Joe Hisaishi.

For Cathilda and her endless bustling:

Second Breakfast, Cozy Cassette

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