Phandalin -- Lost in Time, Lost in Oppression - Bird_Wizard (2024)

Chapter 1: Road to Nowhere

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Harbek

The spring breeze blew past the firbolg’s face, flinging his short blueish hair back. The air in the forest was much fresher than it was back in the forges of the mountains – the stone caverns, filled with heat, were always too stuffy for his taste. There was a certain freedom to it – driving through the blossoming forest, holding the reins to the wagon with supplies. Harbek enjoyed the rhythmic beating of the oxen’s hooves upon the dirty path in front of them, making sure to steer the pair onto the correct path. A smile was upon his face, as working with animals was something he took great joy in, even if it was something as small as being the coachman.

It was a pleasant ride so far – a slight disappointment in his eyes. Harbek was thrilled to experience the world outside, his first real expedition and job. He expected something more out of it – they were hired to protect the supplies and to deliver them safely. At least he got to meet new people, potentially friends. None of them seemed particularly talkative though – three elven folk were accompanying him. All three were intently staring into the trees around them, somewhat absent-mindedly. They all seemed to have a certain affinity with the woods, just like Harbek himself.

At the very least, they managed to introduce each other. The firbolg hoped to make acquaintances with them properly, but they all seemed to be focusing on the job, rather than just experiencing the calm warm weather, the ruffling of leaves, chirping of birds, and other pleasant things nature had to offer to a group of adventurers like themselves.

Harbek’s mind drifted off to the first meeting of the group as he rubbed his cow-like nose. Back in the chilly port-town of Neverwinter, they all answered the notice of a certain dwarf, Gundren Rockseeker, looking for sellswords. It didn’t seem like anything big for everyone else, but Harbek felt a sense of duty. Olgrin, his dwarven father and leader of their clan, gave the firbolg a task of utmost importance – the Rockseeker brothers asked for the Ironheart Clan’s help, and Harbek was the one to provide them aid.

Never having spent much time on the outside of their mountains, this was a head-first dive into the outer world for Harbek, and a mission of honor. It is needless to state just how great his excitement was – not only would he see the world, but prove his virtue by helping their dwarven friends. He would fight dragons, save innocents, and fight for Moradin’s just ideals. Harbek already gifted the Forge God plenty of offerings in the ironworks, but never in combat.

With this trip, Harbek had hoped to achieve all that… But so far it didn’t seem like what he imagined, at all. They were travelling to a town in the middle of nowhere, just a blip on the map, Phandalin. Some sort of a settlement, being currently rebuilt..

With a sigh, the firbolg returned to the real world. His large gloved hand gently grabbed the amulet clinking against the scales of his metal armor. With a miniature hammer clenched tightly in his fist, Harbek uttered a prayer. If only he got a chance to prove himself… But alas, it was better for everyone that this went through smoothly. Their group just had to deliver all these supplies – different foods, some mining equipment, simple stuff really.

Others were taking this seriously – a bit too seriously, Harbek thought. Not all of them seemed tense, though. Turning his head back to the inside of the wagon, he looked at the youngest of the elves – a man in glistening armor, always wearing a smile on his chiseled face. He radiated a sense of security, or perhaps it was his arsenal doing the work – he brought enough weapons to arm a small group. He made sure to introduce himself properly, too – his name was Falenas.

The other two elves were silent for most of the road. One of them, the boy, seemed to be a half-elf too. He only mentioned his name once – Callisto, or something similar. Dressed in all black, with daggers by his side, it wasn't a surprise he didn't talk much at all, mostly staring into the corner of the inside of the wagon.

The third and final member of their mercenary group was an elven woman, her clothes aligning with the color of foliage. Her bow was always by her side, and although she didn't speak much, her ears and eyes were busy with making sure there wasn't anyone after them on the road. What was her name again? Harbek had trouble remembering so many new names..

After all, they were warned the roads are swarming with bandits and the like.. It was good knowing they all have something to defend themselves with, if they ever get into a rumble here, in the middle of nowhere. With a sigh, Harbek looked forth onto the road, his eyes immediately widening. He did not expect his wish to be granted so soon.

Where the road tightens, pressed between two hills, laid two horses. Even from afar, Harbek could smell the morbid stench of death coming from the carcasses. He held himself together despite the smell, pulling on the reins and stopping the two oxen. With a frown he took a closer look at the felled animals - and saw short, black arrows poking out of their sides. The elven woman took a closer interest as well..

“We're not alone here…” – She whispered, almost, carefully poking her head out from the wagon moving her brown hair to the side, as it stood still, like tree bark, her keen green eyes scanning their surroundings.

The armor-clad man in the back was about to inquire what exactly that meant, just as something quick and black pierced the cloth walls of their wagon, missing him by just a few inches. An arrow – Harbek looked at it, realizing it was exactly the same as the ones in the horses.

“Scatter!” – Harbek shouted as he jumped out of the wagon, followed by the elven lady, who was already drawing the string of her bow.

It took the two inside of the wagon some time to realize what was happening – the armor-clad man was barely able to raise his shield in time, which caught more of the very same arrows, while the silent young half-elf, in clothes of the color of the night, let out a scream as he jumped out and landed on the dusty ground, just before a javelin landed right where he was sitting. He was caught off guard, his lean black clothes and hair of the same hair now both dusty from the falling down on the road

As the four of them now were outside the wagon, its walls pierced and its base resembling a pin cushion, their eyes turned to the woods around them. Blending in with the foliage, standing between the branches, were goblins…

The horrid stench. The twisted smiles full of crooked, yellow teeth. Dirty ambush tactics. These were the parasites of the woods – Harbek has heard plenty of tales about travellers meeting their fate at the hands of these creatures. The firbolg raised his shield and mace – they won't be dying here. Not today.

The others were getting ready to fight too. In the split second, Aeven drew her bow, Falenas raised his sword and shield, and even Callisto managed to regroup, now with both of his daggers out, in a low stance. The brawl began.

Goblins rushed at them from both sides of the road. Arrows were fired – but Aeven was quicker, dodging and letting go of the bowstring, her arrow whistling past the leaves and finding its way home to a scout’s head. The goblin fell.

Harbek's shield couldn't save him from the swing of a rusty scimitar. He felt pain, sharp and cold, in his arm – the blade found a weakness between the scales of his glove. The goblin’s grinning face was seen in the reflection of Harbek's scale mail. Without hesitation, instinctively, the firbolg brought his mace down, turning the head of the assailant into a horrendous stew of brain and skull. The pain drifted away during the strike, returning back after with the realization – of his first kill.

Callisto's daggers were flung forth, one of them now cozily sticking out of the chest of a goblin that attempted to rush at him. He was ready to draw his second weapon, a thin long blade, but Harbek heard his painful scream – a black arrow was sticking out of his calf. Falenas was quick to dispose of the archer – with a javelin of his own, it was dead.

Chapter 2: Arc 1, Chapter 2: Aeven

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Aeven

Within the seconds, the road turned into a battlefield. Four green bodies laid around them – one still squirmed with a dagger in his shoulder. But there were more, two that were still alive after the ambush. Seeing what had happened to their allies, they re-evaluated their chances, and ran off into the direction of the north-western forest. Despite the ambush, they were victorious. Aeven knew their tactics well – the goblins probably ran off to their nest. The best course of action would be to follow..

But not while one of them has an arrow sticking out of their leg. The stout firbolg, Harbek, seemed to have gotten hurt as well. Both he and Falenas stowed their weapons, taking out what looks to be a symbol of sorts, an amulet. Soothing light appeared on Falenas’ arms as he pressed both of his hands to Callisto’s wound, and Harbek seemed to be doing the same with his left arm.

Their own blood, staining the clothes, disappeared in seconds. Callisto let out a relieved sigh, brushing his short, black hair out of his sweating face, happy to move his leg again, while Harbek put his shield away with his once again healthy hand. All eyes were now turned to the incapacitated goblin – the little thing was on the ground, its hands trying to remove the dagger. Aeven wanted to stomp on the handle, to drive it deeper, but they needed it alive. She needed it alive, to tell her about its clan. It might be the one she's looking for..

Harbek seemed to take initiative into his own hands. He quickly ran over to the fallen goblin, taking out the dagger and tying its hands. The cleric seemingly applied some sort of a bandage to its wound, stopping the bleeding. But the image of a nurturing priest changed into that of an angry warlord, as his mighty frame, at least seven feet tall, loomed over the goblin.

“Alright now, buddy, where did your friends go?” – Perhaps he expected to get some gratitude from the goblin, who only screeched and spat in response. It didn't seem to understand common that well, but Aeven understood the message behind the savage noises resembling words. So did Falenas – and he did not like it.

“Tell us, now, or else that dagger will end up in your neck.” – This, the creature seemed to understand. It pointed to the direction its friends ran towards, earning a smile from the firbolg. Aeven nodded to him, and the cleric was more than happy to knock it out with a fist to the forehead. Harbek then tied up the little bugger and tossed him right in the wagon – they might need to get some info out of it later.

Falenas and Callisto wandered off to the horses, checking them out in the meantime. They returned to Aeven and Harbek with worried looks on their faces, and the ironclad elf was the first to speak.

“These horses belonged to Rockseeker and that friend of his, Sildar! I remember they wanted to get to the town before we departed, on some urgent business. Looks like they didn't get very far, sadly…” – Falenas’ spoke clearly, raising his head high, blonde hair falling down on his face. His gilded heavy armor has lost some of its grace, stained with goblin blood.

“Well, we need to help, right? They're our employers, we won't get anything if we just leave.” – Callisto, as always, first thought of the money, although Aeven could sense a hint of compassion in his voice. He didn't say much else, looking at others for guidance and their opinions.

“Right, we'll need to track down the two that ran. We'll make the road safer if we take out the goblins there, too – I bet we ain't the first nor the last getting mugged here.” – Harbek was right, his voice spoke true words. Even if the cow-man looked crude with that beard and long, uncared for hair, he was righteous.

Aeven nodded. Eradicating a nest might also earn them some extra gold, as if there weren't enough reasons for doing this already. The group drove the wagon with the goblin in it off the main road, tying the two oxen to a tree. Harbek had his way with them – he was able to calmly tie them without any worries.

Aeven stood above the tracks the goblin left. They ran carelessly, not trying to hide their footprints on the ground. They must not have expected any resistance – this is a good ambush spot, whoever has already been taken down by them couldn't see it coming. She didn't want to admit it, but they were lucky to survive with so little injuries. She carefully kneeled by the prints, finding the pattern. There seemed to be a beaten path between the thick bushes and branches, where the goblins ran all from and to all the time. It was the path to their nest.. If there were six of them here, it was hard to imagine how many were out there, hiding and festering. They'll need to be wary.

With her bow still in hands, the ranger began striding through the woods. The others followed closely behind. They weren't the best company for traversing the enemy lands – the armor of Harbek and Falenas was clanking loudly. Not that it would be easy sneaking, everyone still had adrenaline keeping them ready for an ambush.. But Aeven thought it would be unlikely for anything to be here.

But before she was able to take another step, she felt slight resistance against her foot. Looking down, a tripwire was barely noticeable between the long strands of grass. Aeven’s eyes traced the trap, right up to a net of rocks above her, hidden in the branches. Barely avoiding the trap, the group moved forward, protected by their ranger's keen senses. Soon, the sound of the wind rustling the blossoming leaves of the forest was drowned in the fast flow of a mountain river, coming from within a deep cavern…

Chapter 3: Arc 1, Chapter 3: Callisto

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Chapter 3: Callisto

Anxiously walking through the forest, Callisto felt paranoid. He wasn't expecting a damned ambush! This was supposed to be an easy job, just a quick cash grab. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty with the goblin blood, but there was a great chance he'd get hurt this time. Hell, if it wasn't for that cow-person’s divine powers, he'd probably be limping with an arrow in his leg right now.

None of this felt right to him, but he wasn't about to back out of this. He wasn't alone at the very least, and that gave Callisto some comfort, even if he wasn't ready to get all buddy-buddy with others. Right now, they have to focus on finding Gundren and Sildar, and get back to civilization. Callisto would need to get a bath after this… His hair was all dirty now, and his clothes, more suited for style than utility, were also suffering from all the fighting.

And yet he kept going – with both daggers in hand, Callisto was following their designated navigator, a wood elf named Aeven. Her skills were up to the task, luckily enough – if they weren't, her skull would have been crushed by rocks from that trap they spotted. It is not something that can be easily healed, even if you have the powers of a deity in your arsenal…

Eventually, their ranger raised her hand, signing the group to stop. A clearing was ahead – a small path between the trees and bushes revealed a stream of crystal blue mountain water, flowing directly out of an opening in the stone mountain. Callisto felt shivers running up his spine, darkness occupying the entrance to presumably the goblin nest. He could only imagine how filthy it all must be in there…

“Alright, they're probably hiding in there, keep your guard up, we don't need another ambush.” – Everyone nodded to Aeven’s advice, including Callisto. He felt something strange, a sense of being in a team. They were all working together, unknowingly so, even back at the ambush they all fought like one unit. It was strangely nice..

The group made their way to the entrance. The refreshing smell of the stream was in a struggle, fighting the putrid stench belonging to the goblins. This was the right place. They couldn't make themselves known here, or else they'd draw the attention of the entire clan. Callisto and Aeven, being the sneakiest pair, went in first, with Harbek and Falenas making their way from behind them. That is when Harbek spoke, almost in surprise.

“What is the lot of you doing? Can't you see, it's just darkness in there?” – Harbek was standing at the entrance of the cave, while everyone else entered, only turning around to stare at him in confusion. Elves had a natural way of navigating in the blackness, their eyes pierced right through it. Firbolgs didn't seem to have a way of doing the same..

Reluctantly, the group lit a torch. They couldn't afford a powerhouse like Harbek to be forced to stumble in the darkness like a blind kitten. Aeven and Callisto still went on ahead on their own, staying out of the light so as to not alert anyone that might be lurking in the shadows. The path was going upwards, it seemed, deeper into the cave. It was hard to walk against the stream, following along this long, rough tunnel. It almost looked like a canceled mine project…

Callisto’s black pants and shoes were already soaked with cold water from the mountain stream. He would've gladly stayed outside of the cave, but right now all of his whining was clenched tight by his resolve – it would give away their position entirely if they were loud here, even if the water’s travels echoed loudly in the narrow tunnel. Luckily for him, Callisto spotted something to the right side of the tunnel – a short crude stairway was rising out from the stream, leading to a large opening, a room of sorts, without any light in there. Without waiting long, Callisto marched up on it – he didn't wish to stay in the chilling waters for much longer.

The half-elf exhaled sharply, feeling the air current breeze over his legs. It was a while since he felt this much cold, closing his eyes for a second to rest. It was somewhat nice, though, if the floor beneath the stream was a bit more straight and there weren't as many shifting rocks. Callisto's rest was cut short, as he heard a low growl come from within the darkness of the cave.

The rogue's eyes opened with the speed of lightning, as he saw a mighty jaw close itself inches away from his face with a loud snarl accompanied by clanking of chains. With a short scream he jumped behind, falling into the river, completely submerged for a few seconds.

When he rose from the water, Callisto’s heart was pounding with a fresh dose of adrenaline. He swiped off the water from his eyes, and saw Harbek and others light up the room with the torch. Within the once dark cavern, greyed wolves with scars all over them growled loudly as they watched the group. Durable collars kept them from lunging any further on the group – they were connected by a chain to iron poles driven deep into rock. The ground beneath was littered with bony remains of their past, less fortunate meals… Were they goblins’ pets? Why else would these hurt animals be here, collared and fed?

Callisto, still frightened from the encounter, barely managed to stand up, soaked in the chilly water. His hair was completely ruined now, perfect… He slowly moved out of it back on the staircase but not stepping inside the reach of the wolves, his body shivering already. His eyes turned to the group in anticipation – because there is no way he's going in there. Aeven weaved a symbol into the air, uttering something in Druidic. Her eyes lit up with green for a short while, and she spoke, while, surprisingly enough, addressing the wolves.

“Who are you? Why are you held here?” – Some of the wolves barked in response, the older, more hurt one letting out a howl. Aeven conversed more with the unfortunate animals, before turning to the rest of the group.

“They're.. Kept here, as pets and playthings, to kick them around when these goblins get bored. We shouldn't leave them here, at the very least because they'll starve to death after we deal with the goblins.” – Aeven's once focused face now was distraught, her green eyes on the ground, knocked out of her composure by the cruelty of goblins.

Harbek didn't look too well either when he saw the wolves, and, with determination on his face, he broke the chains holding the wolves here with his mace. The once captive animals carefully made their way out of their prison – all of them letting out one howl, as if a sign of gratitude, before leaving to the woods, to freedom. Callisto, who was afraid of them moments ago, smiled as he watched the animals run free. They weren't mad or feral, just scared… Hopefully they'll find peace in the world outside.

The group, however, still needed to get through this cave, they weren't free of its dark just yet. They stepped out of the stone room, faced with the stream of water again. Harbek decided to go first – it seems like Callisto's stealth wouldn't do them any good anyway, now that he was drenched with water. Not that he felt like going out there anyway, if these goblins held wolves, they'd probably hold something worse – and it's best if someone strong is in front when they encounter it.

The torch of the cleric was lightning their way, Falenas followed right behind, Aeven and Callisto being last. The cave seemed to be rising alongside the stream, they were going upwards in this tunnel. Callisto's movements were slow – the weight of the water on his clothes was affecting his agility, it was a bit more difficult to move around with added weight.

Overhead hung a suspension bridge of rope and wood. Callisto, in the back of the group and seeing the ceiling of the cave well enough, could swear he saw something tiny run through to the right side of it. That something probably saw their torch!

“Hey, maybe we should extinguish the-” – And just as Callisto spoke, an echo rang through the cave. The blunt sound of rocks crashed by a hammer. And then rang another – and another. Then, all sound was drowned out, the silence overtaken by the stream wave flowing down from the cave corridor ahead, a crushing flood. Callisto instinctively jumped to the side of the wall right before the water hit the group. At the edge of his eye, he saw Aeven do the same – the two of them leaned against the cave, the river rushing past them. For a second, before he felt the cold stream hit him, he felt worry for the others..

Chapter 4: Arc 1, Chapter 4: Falenas

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Falenas

Harbek and Falenas weren't so lucky – the two of them faced the brunt of this trap, both being swept right off their feet and thrown back. Falenas found yet another disadvantage of his chain mail armor, for it was too heavy. Despite his mighty stance, the paladin was flung like a playing ball kicked by a kick. The blue covered his eyes, he couldn’t see anything, struggling to grasp onto the floor or the walls, unable to breathe in a panic.

Luckily, someone grabbed his arm – someone just as strong as him. Harbek stood up from the river, bringing Falenas upwards, the two grasping each other’s hands confidently. After he swiped off thick, blonde hair off his eyes, Falenas’ eyes sought his armaments, finding his blade and shield below, on the rocks, right by his side. He only nodded to Harbek, showing him gratitude, before quickly picking up his weapons.Then, Falenas’ attention turned to everyone else – Callisto and Aeven both seemed to be alright, they must’ve dodged to the sides of the cave before water could catch up to them. The firbolg was fine too, only got a few bruises from falling on the rocks.

“Let's move! They know we’re here, so let's bring the fight to them! Charge onwards, friends!” – Falenas ordered loudly, raising his sword high up and pointing it at the tunnel ahead, upon which a staircase revealed itself, curling to the right side of the cave, hidden by the stream moments ago.

His words inspired the group – even Callisto seemed eager now, despite being completely drenched in water a few minutes earlier. Fixing his majestic but wet hair, Falenas raised his shield and sword in a combat stance, and ran upwards on the stairs of stone, deeper into the cave, with everyone following him. They could see the light of torches on the other end, ready to join yet another fight!

Upstairs, a once stable dam revealed itself to the group. By it stood a few goblins, all wielding sizable warhammers – no doubt used to destroy the dam and set the flood upon the group of intruders. But now they were here, with no tricks left up their sleeves!

The adventurers, roused up by the sudden cold water, fought with the goblins in a messy yet an efficient style. With his magic, Harbek set his very own mace ablaze and brought his god’s wrath upon the goblins; Aeven’s arrows pierced their heads, like apples; Callisto’s daggers cutting cleanly through throats; Falenas himself wasn’t half bad, his sword slicing goblin after goblin. Moving on quickly, the four arrived at the top of the stairs – into a room, filled to the brim with a thick, musky smell. At first sight, there was nobody in there – only a table in the center, with a few candles and cards on top of it.

It seemed like they’ve dealt with all the goblins here! Victoriously, Falenas and Harbek walked forth. On the inside, they were greeted with a terrifyingly loud warcry as a large club swept Harbek off his feet, throwing him into the far end of the room, the table and the candles all flying off, with the firbolg landing into some wooden crates that seemed to be there.

From the shadows emerged a hulking man, covered in brown fur, his face resembling a grimace of an angered bear rather than an actual humanoid. His long arms held a massive tree trunk, held like an improvised club.

“KLARG SUFFER NO INTRUDER!” – He roared, accompanied by a howl of a wolf hiding in the shadows close by.

Before Harbek had a chance to stand up and recover, still reeling from Klarg’s strike, more goblins jumped from behind the many crates lining up the room. Falenas couldn’t back down now – not with his companion in danger! He rushed forth, against the threat twice his size, shield raised high. Seeing his example, others got ready to take on the goblins behind him.

With each strike of the trunk against his shield, Falenas felt his whole body shake. Behind him Aeven shot more arrows, coming out of a seemingly endless quiver, Callisto was busy gutting goblins with a disgusted look on his face, and Harbek was still on the floor, unconscious. Falenas had to fight, fight for just a bit longer, to give others a chance to deal with all the other threats.

After being on the backfoot for so long, the paladin found an opening between the strikes of the bugbear, and lunged forth, his sword thrusting at what seemed like a weak spot – the bugbear had a weird, red rash on his shoulder, which is exactly what Falenas went for with his one strike. Right as his blade was grazing the skin of the enemy, a sharp, piercing pain went through his ribs. The mad wolf, sick with the same rash, bit him in the side, its fangs going through the armor.

The deep shock of pain halted all movement in his body. Falenas’ eyes stayed wide open, as he felt the lukewarm blood pour out of his fresh wound and looked upon his demise – this monstrosity, with a grin full of dull, cracked teeth, raised his trunk, ready to bring it down. Behind him, Falenas only heard a giggle, followed by crushing of glass.

Coming out of nowhere, like a spearhead of light piercing the darkness, Harbek lunged with his mace at Klarg, intercepting his strike. Klarg let out a scream of agony as Callisto slashed across his legs with daggers, and Aeven shot his eyes out with a pair of arrows. Its club, still raised, fell alongside the body, down at the unfortunate wolf still digging its teeth into Falenas’ ribs.

After the battle saw its end, Harbek quickly laid a restoration spell upon his comrade. The paladin’s arms were exhausted, having to endure a battering from Klarg, while his side was bleeding. Falenas felt a sudden spike of warmth as the bite marks began closing themselves, but even slight movement proved to be painful. Still, his hands could hold weapons and his legs could march onwards, so he wouldn't stop yet.

“How did you.. Wake up, after getting knocked out cold by that monster?” – Falenas’ attention turned to the firbolg.

“No idea, mate, one of those goblins just threw a bottle of something at me, and the red juice inside it made me feel alive.” – Harbek seemed to be in a terrible shape, but he was alive and moving, still wielding his bloodied mace and shield.

“I saw it pick a potion from over there.. What was it?” – Callisto pointed at the array of crates standing to their right, to the east of the cave, from where Klarg and his underlings jumped out from.

Aeven took careful steps towards the open container, everyone else following her with their eyes. Now that they've paid close attention, they could see a marking on the side of that crate, and on some others as well – a large blue crest depicting a lion’s roaring head looking to the side, atop a shield’s front. From the inside of it, Aeven pulled a small vial with thick, red liquid on the inside.

It didn't take Falenas long to figure out what this was – a healing potion. Each of the group took a few with them from the crate, deciding to move on into the next stone room, across the hanging suspension bridge, although curious what was inside of those undoubtedly stolen wares. And so they continued onwards – there was another exit out of this recreation room, leading to a bridge hanging high above the long tunnel they entered from.

They saw light in the tunnel ahead, and heard chatter in a language they couldn't understand. There were goblins ahead – and, possibly, an ambush awaiting them. Aeven and Callisto decided to stay behind, in the darkness, to wait for their chance to jump in and strike. Falenas wasn't afraid of the goblins, though, ready to face whatever horrid tactic they'd come up with. Harbek seemed to share his resolve, the two confidently striding deeper into the cave. It opened up to reveal the den of the goblins – hay beds laid everywhere, lit by a campfire in the middle of the room.

A few goblins stood with bowstrings drawn, pointing them at Falenas and Harbek, but not yet firing. If these goblins were all that was here, it would be a quick fight. Just as Falenas smirked, preparing to enter battle, a commanding voice called out from above, from the second floor on the cave.

Both of them immediately looked up – and saw a familiar face. A human man, old with greyed out hair, stood on his knees. It was Sildar – but bruised and scarred, wounds all around him. He was barely conscious, blood dripping from his eye and nose down at his moustache. He was stripped of all his armor and weapons, a once valiant, old warrior now brought down to this.

“Not one step further boys, unless you'd like to see it rain blood out of his throat!” – A shortsword was held to his neck, wielded by a one-eyed goblin with a toothy grin. He gave off an air of superiority… Far different from all other filthy creatures they encountered here.

“Don't you dare hurt him, you bastard! Let him go!” – Rage began to boil inside Falenas. These.. Creatures, they've done this to him, and now they're holding him hostage!

“Let him go? And then what, you'd happily put a sword through my chest, like you did with the rest of us? Not a chance, buddy. I actually want to get out of here alive, and you seem to want the same for this poor bastard right here.” – The goblin smirked as he tugged at Sildar’s short, greyed hair.

“Don't.. Don't trust him…” – Sildar was visibly fatigued, grimacing in pain at the goblin's words. He was barely able to speak.

“SILENCE, meatbag! Nobody's talking to you, just be a good, quiet hostage! Now… Step out of the bloody way, and leave your gold there while you're at it. Sildar here told me he hired you, so give me that sweet, ringing gold of yours. Once me and my boys here are out of the cave, I'll let the scum live. Sounds plausible?” – The goblin leader was beginning to sound desperate, despite his tough attitude…

Falenas wanted to rip the creature’s head off. He wanted to just run off, with their gold, and continue to pillage like nothing happened?! He was about to explode, to say something stupid, but Harbek placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke in his stead.

“Alright, alright, don't hurt Sildar. Here's our gold. Now you can walk out.” – Harbek took his pouch and put it down on the ground, stepping aside from the entrance to the room and gesturing for Falenas the same. The look in his eyes.. It took a short while to realize what he was getting at.. Falenas was lost in his anger, forgetting about Callisto and Aeven, waiting in the dark.

The leader of the goblins smirked, once again pulling Sildar upwards to stand on his two legs, and shoving him towards the staircase. The two were joined by the other goblins, who skittered over to their commander, giggling and smirking at Harbek and Falenas.

Then, the two heard a scream come from the tunnel – it was the nasty voice of that goblin who held Sildar hostage. It was the signal, and the two righteous warriors ran inside, roaring as they raised their weapons high. In the passageway, the leader clung Aeven’s arrow, stuck in his shoulder, letting Sildar fall down on the stone floor

“KILL THE BASTARDS! KILL THEM ALL!” – He screeched in pain, his functioning arm swinging the sword at the elven archer. She dodged his wild swing, bringing another arrow to his skull before he could hurt anyone else. The other goblins screamed in disarray, and didn't prove to be much of a threat to Callisto, who ended their lives swiftly.

The tunnel was now stained in blood and filled with corpses of goblins. Amidst them laid Sildar, a warrior stripped of his armor and weapons, just in his bloodied clothes. Falenas turned the man onto his back, gently lifting his head and opening the vial of the healing potion, pouring the liquid in his mouth.

Sildar breathed in, sharply – his eyes opened wide. He coughed up blood, but otherwise seemed to be in a stable condition. It would take a while for all the scars to heal, but at the very least he wasn't on the verge of death anymore.

“Thank you.. For helping me. I thought you'd been killed in the same ambush that caught us off guard.” – Sildar uttered, his eyes barely open. Every breath was a struggle, but the potion kept him alive.

In his words, Falenas was able to notice something… He said “us”!.. While fighting the goblins, Falenas and others completely forget – Gundren was not here with them!

“Wait, Sildar, where is Rockseeker? We saw two horses on the road, yours and his. What happened to him?!” – Falenas immediately asked, his eyes opened wide.

“I can’t quite tell.. I can’t understand the goblin language, so–”

“Hold on, let's talk about this outside, okay? The stench down here makes it hard to breathe and think..” – Before Sildar could speak, Callisto interfered. Falenas had to admit, the half-elf was right, they needed to collect their bearings and leave.

Falenas helped Sildar walk, and they headed out. In the room with the crates, they found Sildar's equipment – his armor and weapons. Of course, they couldn't carry the crates all the way back to the wagon right now, but they marked this place on their map of the surrounding area to come back here later.

At last, they were outside. Everything flew by so fast – despite being so close to death so many times, they felt alive. And still soaked wet – now not in just spring water, but goblin blood as well…

Chapter 5: Arc 1, Chapter 5: Sildar

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Sildar

Once more in his old armor, although with plenty of new bandages underneath it, Sildar Hallwinter sat in the wagon alongside four adventurers he and Gundren hired. He anticipated some sort of trouble on the road, but he couldn’t have imagined there’d be a whole goblin tribe waiting for them. He was glad he was able to convince the Rockseekers to hire some new aid…

But Gundren was missing now – and there was a high chance that his brothers, Tharden and Nundro, were gone as well. They should have already settled in Phandalin, but, if what Sildar has heard about its recent state was true, the town wouldn’t be very welcoming.

As a representative of the Lords’ Alliance, it was his task to ensure the town was safe and all of the conditions were met for it to thrive. Well, at least this was the quest of his friend… Before he had gone missing as well.

Sitting in the wagon, deep in thought, his hand over his face, Sildar realized he wouldn’t be able to get to the bottom of this on his own. He was weak after the days of torture in goblins’ care. And this group proved to be capable. He had no choice but to try and get their aid…

“Adventurers.. I have already thanked you plenty for saving me from the clutches of the goblins – you’ve put yourselves through great dangers to get me out of there, and for that I am in your debt. But, I’m afraid, there’s more of you that I must ask.”

The attention of the group was drawn to him immediately. The three elven folk all raised their eyes towards him, curious, while firbolg kept on holding onto the reins of the oxen, still looking forth on the path but listening.

“As you already know, Gundren has gone missing. While I couldn’t understand their words, they did speak in common a few times – a location was mentioned, Cragmaw Castle, which I assumed was their prime nest, although it is not a place I’ve ever heard of. I won’t be able to take them on myself, unfortunately… So I must request your help in this matter of finding Gundren and rescuing him. Of course, the Lords’ Alliance will be more than willing to pay for your efforts-”

“Wait, the Lords’ Alliance? The big guys themselves? I didn’t know Baldur’s Gate and Waterdeep were interested in this small town.” – Callisto quickly spoke, interrupting Sildar.

“Yes, indeed… I must confess, there is more to this story than I initially let on, when hiring you lot in Neverwinter.” – This was the part that Sildar dreaded the most…

“Phandalin is not a particularly famous city. In fact, it wasn’t considered a city until recently… But three centuries ago, however, it was a town bustling with life. A powerful alliance declared it to be its capital, but not because of the town’s position on the map or anything like that.

Deep in the Icespire Peak Mountains, the alliance’s most powerful mages created a mystical artifact, known as the Forge of Spells. Through it, they could craft powerful spell scrolls and magical items of unheard power. Their influence on the land was grand, but it did not last long enough to make a mark in the history books as anything more than a myth.

I don’t know much about it, but a large coalition of barbarians raged through the town and the surrounding areas. Phandalin was in ruin, the alliance of mages was wrecked, and the Forge was lost, presumably hidden by the wizards right before their demise.

But, recently, Gundren and his brothers have rediscovered the path to the Forge. Apparently they had a map, and they wanted to revitalize the city by starting the forge up again. They got the help of Lords’ Alliance, and became patrons of the town, providing supplies and such, which is what you’re delivering right now.

My guess is as good as any other, but I suspect that someone is after the map. A few months ago, a different representative of Lords’ Alliance was assigned to keep watch over town and Gundren’s work here. A month ago, he went missing too, which is why I went here myself.

The one who went missing here, before me.. His name is Iarno Albrek, an elf mage specializing in abjuration. I remember he had long dark hair, and wore blue silvery robes. Keep an eye out for him too, maybe you’ll be able to find him… If you do agree to look for Gundren, of course.”

Revealing this much in such a short time was hard for Sildar. Still, he believed that if they would be his allies, he needed to tell them the full truth – and, based on the thoughtful looks on their faces, they seemed to believe it. Looking at each and every single one of them, Sildar felt as if they all had something that brought them to this city, in the middle of nowhere. A reason to be here, a reason to agree to what he proposed… Harbek, Falenas, Aeven, and even silent Callisto all gave their words of approval, marking the start of an unforgettable journey.

“Aye, I’m not leaving Gundren and Iarno with goblins if they’ll be treated like that.”

“You speak true, friend! We can not back away when there’s justice to be delivered!”

“Hmm.. Sure, why not, it won't hurt to stick around the town for a while.”

“I suppose we can try to help?”

Chapter 6: Arc 2, Chapter 6: Callisto

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Callisto

The road trip was going.. Somewhat smoothly, ever since their wagon got two new passengers. Sildar was actually not that bad – he had plenty of stories to keep us entertained in the mornings, and his recipes made even the blandest of rations surprisingly bearable, even delicious. Still, Callisto couldn’t understand one thing… For the sake of all gods, why did they have to suffer a goblin captive?!

The thing was making their life a living hell. It screamed, it laughed, it was biting everything that came in range, even when we were feeding it. Callisto would’ve cut its throat and thrown it into a ditch long ago, if the group wasn’t against it. Apparently, that sharpshooter Aeven wanted something with it.. At the very least, he didn’t need to interact with the thing that much.

Once Callisto saw the shapes of buildings in the distance, he knew the end of this torture was near. Down the dusty road the wagon drove, closing in on the city of Phandalin. The line between “town” and “village” was thin – many of the buildings on the outer part of Phandalin were ruins, surrounded by fields, and ones that were occupied were closer to the center, it seems.

Riding through the streets, Callisto caught glimpses of the people who live here. They looked like simple villagers – attending to livestock, doing basic house chores, washing clothes and dishes. They seemed to be looking at their group in a curious way… It gave off a feeling of belonging – somehow, he felt familiar with this place, and this lifestyle, despite being fastidious and clean. Atop the hill to the north stood a large yet barren mansion, old and abandoned. That too, felt familiar…

There were a few establishments here, too. One of them was “The Sleeping Giant” inn, with a sign depicting a bearded giant resting his head and arms on a desk. While looking through other ones, Callisto’s line of thought was cut short by something hanging above an entrance to a house. It was a sign, depicting a crest with a blue shield and a lion’s head atop of it.

“Hey, guys! This is the same drawing we saw on those crates in the cave!” – Callisto instantly recognized the sign, and was quick to alert the rest of the party.

Everyone’s attention was indeed drawn to the sign, and then the building next to it. It seemed to be made of wood, but it had fortifications made of steel. Callisto’s keen eyes spotted a few scratches and other damage marks all around it.. Something about this shop gave off a feeling of danger.

Callisto decided to take a backseat on this encounter. While he certainly was good at talking, he preferred not to interact with the locals too much. Harbek was the one to take the lead here, jumping out of the wagon with Falenas while Aeven and Callisto stayed back.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” – With his heavy fist, the firbolg knocked on the door.

From behind the door, shuffling was heard. Someone was muttering curses under their breath, before the shutter on the door was opened, and an old woman peeked through with an angered look in her eyes.

“You damned redbrands! Once more knocking on my door?! You ain't getting nothing from this crone, you got that?!” – She was as fierce as a cornered stray cat, ready to kill. Callisto could hear that in her voice, even from the wagon.

“Redbrands? Ma’am, we've not heard of anyone going under that name. We found your supplies out in the woods, in a goblin cave, and went here to give them back to you.” – Harbek was quick to calm her, raising his palms up before her as he spoke.

The woman looked confused for a second, before closing the shutter and opening the door. Callisto heard clicks of locks and mechanisms behind the door – it was indeed well-protected, not a door he'd be able to lockpick that easily. Then, the large door slowly moved open, revealing an old lady in simple green clothes, wielding a crossbow. She looked at everyone present, paying attention to what they were wearing.

“Alright, maybe you're not one of them. Unless they've learnt that they can choose to not wear red, bah! So, you say you have my supplies?” – There was still suspicion in her voice… But Falenas was quick to clear it away.

“Indeed so, fair lady! We have valiantly defeated foul goblins that have taken many of the crates that seem to belong to you, for they wear the very same crest your shop’s sign bears.” – As he spoke, the old lady raised her crossbow up, pointing it away from the group.

“You dealt with all those goblins? Must be my second birthday. Thank you folks, you've certainly made my life a lot easier. Those little buggers were killing my couriers for a month or so now, I couldn't get any new equipment to town. Name's Linelle, by the way – and this is the Lionshield Coster. Weapons, potions, adventuring equipment, you can find it all here. Since you've done me such a big favor, I'll give you a hefty discount whenever you come shopping around here.”

“I'm Harbek, and thank you, ma’am, we'll make sure to come by again. But, before we go, what did you think we were? Redbrands, you called them.”

“They're just a bunch of no-life bandits! Showed up here a short while ago and terrorized everybody who has coin. Bloody bastards.. They wear red, easy to spot.. You may have dealt with goblins, but these are mercenaries, and by the gods there's lots of them here.. Best to steer clear of them. Aeven leaned a bit out of the wagon to ask Linelle, paying close attention to their conversation as always.”

“Wait, Sildar here told us there was supposed to be someone governing the area. Iarno Albrek, tall elf, wears blue robes, does that ring any bells for you?” – Aeven inquired, popping her head out of the wagon to speak with the old lady.

“There was a lad here a while ago kind of how you described, but one day he just vanished and these Redbrands showed up. Seeing how goblins and mercenaries operate, he’s as good as dead.”

“Alright, ma’am, we'll keep an eye out for these Redbrands.. You stay safe in the meantime, and your supplies should remain safe for pick-up when you get the chance to send someone.”

“Oh, one more thing. If you, well, end up deciding to kick some Redbrand arse, there's an old adventurer in town, who was here before everyone decided to rebuild it. His name's Edermath, lives in the apple orchard up to the west.”

Edermath.. Why does that name sound faintly familiar to Callisto? He couldn't quite tell, with the wagon already rolling on to the center of the town. They got some nice bonus discounts at Linelle’s shop now, which may come in handy if they're going to stick around.

Before long, the wagon now stood in the town square, a round collection of homes surrounding a dusty middle with a stone shrine close by one of the houses. It resembled a pile of smooth boulders and rocks placed on each other, with a small altar in the middle. Callisto couldn't tell which god it was dedicated to, paying it little attention as Harbek called to him and the others.

“Alright, I think we should split up for a while, see the town for ourselves. We still need to deliver these supplies and get that goblin to the local jail.”

“I trust you can get the supplies on your own, I'll need to head off into the town hall to put the goblin behind bars and have a word with the mayor. He may know something about Iarno.. And I'll need to find out what is the deal with these Redbrands.”

Harbek nodded to Sildar's request, who picked up the tied up goblin and hopped out of the wagon. Callisto has let out a sigh of relief, glad to be rid of this annoying bugger. Aeven in the meantime continued the conversation.

“We should see the man Linelle told us about, Edermath. Seems like he's been around for a while, probably knows something about the Redbrands.”

“A great idea, Aeven! You can trust me and Callisto to safely get our cargo delivered, you and Harbek go to the apple orchard. We shall meet at that inn we saw, the Sleeping Giant, after all is done.”

Huh?! Callisto wanted to sneak off on his own to get into one of the local inns for a bit of wine, but it seems like he was too late. It'd be even more awkward if he had just denied this request, so he remained in the wagon as Falenas took the front seat. It was a bit amusing – the elf struggled to get the oxen really moving forward, to make them turn around, but through sheer luck they eventually got to their destination.

Callisto and Falenas both stepped down from the wagon, stopping by a small building with a sign above the front door – “Barthen’s Provisions”. Callisto figured it was one of the enterprises the Rockseeker brothers had invested their resources in. These dwarves certainly had a good plan in mind before they got here… And they were serious about finding that spell forge thing Sildar told them about. It sounded important… Lost in thought, Callisto didn't notice how Falenas walked up to him. His eyes wandered up to the paladin, who spoke with a smile on his face.

“I know you're not the one for conversation, my sneaky friend, but I wanted to comment on your performance back in the goblin cave. You may shy away from conversation, but you're excellent in combat. I'm glad we have you on our team.”

That felt.. Unusual for Callisto. A genuine piece of gratitude and appreciation? While Callisto stood there, a bit confused, Falenas extended his hand forth. Callisto reluctantly decided to shake it.

“Now then, friend! Let us move onwards and deliver these supplies to the rightful owner!”

The two got into the shop, finding inside a halfling, presumably Barthen. After a short exchange of pleasantries between him and Falenas, the two found out that Redbrands have been bothering him as well. He was neither as feisty nor as skilled with a crossbow as Linelle was, unfortunately making him a victim of weekly shakedowns. Still he was glad to take the supplies and provide the money he owed to the group for the job, also offering to take care of the wagon and the oxen while the group is busy at the town. Callisto felt a smidge of pity for the unlucky man. Certainly he's not the only one being robbed in daylight like this… He felt a disdain for these bandits, for despite being a rogue himself Callisto would never terrorize people like that.

Just as they began heading to the inn, the two saw a figure striding towards them…

Chapter 7: Arc 2, Chapter 7: Aeven

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Aeven

As they walked through the dirty roads of the ruin-town, Aeven kept her eyes open and her ears keen. People would often hide in their presence, possibly worried that they were just another batch of the Redbrands coming in. Harbek seemed to feel uncomfortable under the looks of the people too, but neither of the two said anything about it. For now, it was best to get to the orchard and figure out the deal with this Edermath person.

Aeven wondered, thinking to herself what sort of an adventurer was around these parts. They were nothing quite as dangerous as what she and her folk traveled through, fighting monstrous creatures and finding the comfort of a home even in the most unwelcoming of environments. She didn't want to admit this, but she missed them. Luckily it didn't show too much – with a new lead, being the goblin tribe, she could focus on something and not become too distracted.

Before long, the two ended up standing at the doorstep of a wooden house. It felt old, ancient even, as old if not older than the apple trees standing behind it. Aeven spotted many engravings on the doorframe and the door itself – Elvish work, and a fine one.Harbek was the one to knock on the door, while Aeven patiently waited by his side. It has been a long time since she has seen an older elf – all of her companions were practically children, although she herself wasn't much better, only having about a century and a decade behind her. The only times she spoke with a truly ancient elf was during her training – the final stages of it included a blessing given by the elders themselves. She remembered her initiation in the ranks of rangers well – the elders of their community emanated wisdom and power, all being old druids.

Finally, the door to the house opened, but only partially. From within the opening peeked out an old elf, with somewhat long pale hair running down on his shoulders. A vertical scar ran from his chin up to the cheek. His green, almost grey eyes stared intently at Harbek.

“Sir, are you by any chance Edermath by any chance?”

“Depends on who’s asking… But you dirtbags must already know me well. Haven’t you all had enough? Came back for yet another reason why it’s a bad idea to try and rob a veteran adventurer?” – Aeven noted his reaction, it was similar to Linelle’s. Seemed like Redbrands were a long term problem here…

“No, sir, we’re not with the Redbrands! We just got to town and this fine shopkeep Linelle told us you know a thing or two about them.”

The firbolg was quick to de-escalate the situation, while Aeven simply looked in his eyes. Even though he was called “old” by Linelle, Edermath had the features of a middle-aged human. Elves had their youth stretch out to centuries and onwards.. He must be indeed as old as they were told.

Soon, Edermath’s gaze eased off of them. Neither of them wore anything red, so it was easy enough to assume they weren’t with the Redbrands. Soon the door closed, followed by a few clicks and clacks, and opened fully once again. In front of them stood a man of a build admirable for a man of his age, lean and yet still of noticeable strength. He wore a simple green long-sleeved shirt, on top of which sat a black vest with red outlines, and a pin in the shape of a red rose.

“Take a seat by the fireplace. I’ll make you some tea, and we’ll talk.” – Edermath took a step away from the door, letting the guests inside.

After she took a seat on the couch, Aeven’s eyes ran wild across the walls of the wooden house. They were decorated with traditional elven artworks and carvings, depicting many entities tied to elven folklore and Faewyld in general – satyrs, pixies, deer, and many others, giving Aeven a feeling of comfort and home. Alongside the hearth of the home stood a mannequin-like statue, adorned with a refined set of armor. Its white metal plates were still in supreme condition, despite having a number of visible scars, most likely received during a battle. To complement its white colors, a short red cape was hanging from its right shoulder. Next to it, right above the fireplace, was placed a fine sword of silver and white metal, with a rose decoration on its hilt. Aeven smirked as she spotted Harbek looking at the armor, almost drooling at the sight of such masterful work. He'd probably sell a kidney of his to just be allowed to hold this blade for a few seconds.

Before long, she and Harbek held cups filled to the brim with deliciously smelling tea. Aeven could catch a faint trace of melissa somewhere in there… Taking a sip, it was quite warm, but not enough to burn, with an aftertaste that left her wanting to drink a bit more.

“Oh, that’s some good tea right here. Care to share the recipe?” – Harbek seemed to be less patient, chugging it down like it was beer.

“... Maybe some other time. First of all, I’m Sir Danal Edermath. It’s a pleasure meeting you.” – The man proudly nodded his head, his long hair falling down from his shoulders.

“Aye, same here, name’s Harbek, and this is Aeven. We came to uh, talk about this Redbrand thing that’s popular around here. You dealt with them already, right? Could you tell us more about them?”

“Indeed, they’ve come once to my doorstep before, asking for gold. My swordplay convinced them to leave. I’ve gathered some information about them in the month they’ve been here, yes… But I’m not certain of your skill. Will you fight them? Face them head on?” – Edermath seemed as if he was testing them… Their resolve. Aeven had to rise up to his challenge if the group wanted him on their side.

“If we have to do that in order to stop their rule here, sure. They.. Have captured someone. We must save them before it’s too late. As a fellow elf, you must know how quick time flies around you – and we don’t have enough of it to sit around here”

“Hm… I need to know that you’re not just another set of Redbrands who will take over their role once the competition is gone. So, if you truly wish to help this town, I doubt you’ll be against doing a little task for me…”

“You see, this whole region once used to be engulfed in war. I often take walks in the surrounding forests, looking at the old battle ruins, forts and the like. On my most recent hike, I noticed someone hiding in the Old Owl Well fortress, by the desolate city of Thundertree to the east. A necromancer, resurrecting fallen soldiers for his deeds. I haven’t gotten close to him, but no one who desecrates respected warriors is capable of doing good.”

“I want you to get rid of this necromancer. If he’s gone, I will give you all that I know about the Redbrands, and maybe something more. But, for now, try to avoid the ruined manor on the hill, if you can. The place is swarmed with them.” – Aeven felt uneasy, hearing about the necromancer, and it looked like Harbek was the same way. The undead was an enemy particularly hated by her community, and although she knew how to deal with them well enough, Aeven never enjoyed dealing with the risen. But they needed all the help they could get – it was apparent that the Redbrands had a part to play in this mess, and this whole town was under their heel, against just the four of them and Sildar.

“Alright, we’ll deal with this wizard, doesn’t seem like his presence is particularly healthy for the town either. We will return once we've dealt with it.”

“Thank you… I'll be here, waiting, making sure to scare away any and all Redbrands that come my way. You make sure to stay out of their sight in the meantime, not a good idea to shake the hornet's nest before you're ready to deal with it.”

That was yet another good point – their group would have to do some proper scouting and investigating before they could take on the Redbrands. Even if that was just a band of mercenaries, they couldn't be underestimated. Goblins they encountered earlier served as a fine example – despite being relatively weak, their strength was found in ingenuity and numbers.

After giving their thanks to Edermath, the two left the house, accompanied by the rustling of leaves. The tea was delightful, but their stomachs were still quite empty, and both desired to eat some warm food for the first time in a week, the first task on their list now being getting back to the tavern the group agreed to meet at, the Sleeping Giant.

“Aeven, you saw the armor that guy was showing off. And the sword.. The old missus told us he was an adventurer, but where do you think he got it? I know hillbillies and villagers can’t forge masterworks like that!” – On their way back, Harbek suddenly spoke up, thrilled and excited.

“I don’t know.. He said he respected those warriors, maybe he fought alongside them? Perhaps there was an order here, or he was just a local soldier, something like that. He wore a symbol of a rose, and the sword also had the flower. Probably a sign of the place he served in, or something. We better keep an eye out for more signs of these… Rose thingies. Either way, he’s not the type of elf I’m too familiar with… Why live in a house when the grand forest is at your doorstep?”

“This place probably means a lot to him. I’ve never left my clan’s mountain before, so I can understand the man. “ – This was the reply that stunned Aeven… It took her some time to register this answer.

“... Wait, you mean.. You’ve never travelled anywhere? Just been in one place your entire life?”

“Aye. Just me and the Emberforged Clan. My dad’s uh, well he’s a dwarf, and I’m a bit too big to be one. Apparently I'm what people call a firbolg, a mix of elf, giant and cow.”

“I would never guess… You're unlike a dwarf in many ways. You handle animals quite well, and you are more polite than one. But, you do fight like a dwarf, and your magic is that of the forge – I noticed that divine symbol you carry.”

“That's right, I serve Moradin as a cleric. The Emberforged raised me well, not complaining about that. We had the best forges in the realms. Made really pretty stuff, that armor and sword were on par with what we make.”

“That is.. An interesting story, to say the least. Someone naturally belonging to the wild raised deep within the heat of the mountain forges. I won't complain though, you fight well and you're not unbearable to be around. One could say you're the most normal around here – although it's not much to compete against, a righteous paladin who can't shut up about his ideals and a brooding hobo who doesn't talk at all. I wonder what Callisto's deal is…”

Chapter 8: Arc 2, Chapter 8: Sildar

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Sildar

It felt good to finally stretch his stiff limbs with a nice walk through the town. The days of captivity in the Cragmaw goblins’ cave have taken their toll on Sildar's health, but Harbek and Falenas were quick to utilize their divine spells. Only a few scars and a stiffness remained from the countless bruises and wounds he received during his stay, but for an old warrior like himself it was nothing.

With a smile and a tied up goblin over his shoulder, Sildar marched on to the town hall. He has been to Phandalin before, navigating it wasn't an issue – during his last visit, he wished Iarno luck in governing an empty town like this. He sighed, wondering if his friend is still alive.

The large building of the hall was easy to spot and get to. The door was open, revealing a foyer and a table with a secretary, currently writing some things down on a scroll with a pen in his hand.

“May I help you?..” – He looked up, witnessing Sildar in his armor, his eyes widening a little bit, a speck of confusion present in them once he saw the incapacitated goblin.

“Oh yes, indeed, I've come here to speak with the current governor of this city. There is much to be discussed regarding the wellbeing of Phandalin and its surrounding areas. Where can I find your superior?” – Sildar on the other hand remained unphased, speaking in a clear and loud voice. Despite his injuries he stood straight and proud.

“Well he's busy, mister- Wait, who exactly are you?” – The secretary stood up from his desk, looking Sildar in the eyes.

“I am Sildar Hallwinter of Waterdeep, an agent of the Lords’ Alliance. Just like the one that is supposed to be watching over this city, I believe his name is Iarno Albrek.”

“... No, sir, we don't have anyone here with that name.. Maybe he was here before the current mayor? I'm new here as well, haven't been to the city for too long…”

“Alright, very well then, show me the mayor, and a cellblock to throw this goblin to. They're quite rude fellows, I wouldn't want it to disturb our talk.”

The young human stood up from the table, grabbing a chain of keys from a drawer and first leading the warrior to the joke of a prison that was installed in the hall – just a few simple cells with bars, and, unsurprisingly, they were empty. Sildar placed the goblin inside one of the cells and untied it, asking the secretary to bring it water and food from time to time, before they both left for the office of the mayor. The secretary opened the door for Sildar, and spoke quickly after.

“Mayor Lodden, Sildar Hallwinter of Waterdeep is here to see you.”

Sildar wrinkled his nose when his eyes caught the silhouette of the mayor. He had a round figure, stuffed in a more or less official suit, with a balding head and remnants of a beard stuck on his face. He was currently sitting behind the main table of the office, an array of papers laid on it, standing alongside it a glass bottle filled with transparent brown liquid. Alcohol, and expensive, based on the fine bottle.

“Hmm? Mark, haven't I told you not to disturb me during my noon drink?” – In the glass he held was swirling some of the alcohol, which he sipped after looking at his secretary. Sildar however didn't even give the poor Mark a chance to speak, stepping forth with a loud proclamation.

“Mayor Lodden, as Mark here has said, I'm from the Lords’ Alliance. I have arrived to inquire about the state of this town and the region of Icespire mountains… And I must ask, what in the bloody hells is going on here? Three months ago, a different representative of the Alliance was sent here to govern the city and ensure its safety. Iarno Albrek is his name.. And yet the mayor is you, with him going missing about a month ago. What is going on here?”

Mark understood that this didn't have anything to do with him, as he quickly left the office and closed the door behind himself. The mayor seemed a bit worried at the loud yet firm speech of Sildar, who stared the man right in the eyes, waiting for his answer.

“Now, now, I haven't heard of any Iarnos or Albreks. I'm just a representative of the people, for the people!” – Sildar felt a hint of worry in his voice, and pressed on.

“That doesn't seem to be the case either. Bandits roam the streets, robbing the people, threatening them, and doing god knows what else. Where are the guards?! Where is the local law enforcement team? You couldn't even form a militia from the people around here?!”

“Bandits? Oh, you must mean these few ruffians here and about, the Redbrands. Why, they're nothing to worry about, my good Sildar! Just a few youngsters with something up their something, you know how it is. They certainly don't cause any trouble around here. At least, not enough to mobilize the local farmers and merchants. Could you imagine the ruckus? These people just settled in, full of hopes for the future. Would be a shame if they got injured just because they couldn't wait for a bunch of hotheads to be on their way. They'll hang around for a bit, sure, but they'll be out of our hair in just a week, I'm sure.”

In response, Sildar marched up to the man, slamming his own hands down at the table. The glass bottle clanked, dropping and falling on the floor, pieces of it flying everywhere.

"Ruffians? Youngsters?! They are mercenaries and sellswords. Because of your ignorance, there are goblins tribes all around here, no doubt working with the very same bandits roaming the city. They are a real threat – for five days I've been held prisoner and treated like a punching bag. I will not allow you to ruin this city!"

“Stop ruining the furniture! It was imported, you know- And like I said, the Redbrands aren't anything big. The tribes of goblins are common enough, and even though I'm sorry for what happened to you, I won't put the lives of everyone here at stake just for that. It's better to let the situation resolve itself, the goblins will probably get in the way of Redbrands and then both will end up fighting each other. Simple!”

Sildar was fuming. He had met plenty of cowards, but not any like Lodden, who was willing to terrorize everyone just because he was afraid to stick his neck out and fight for once. But, as much as he wanted to just punch the man in the nose and secure the city himself, he didn't get the proper authorization from the Lords' Alliance. His job here was to find Iarno, not to act as the governor in his absence. The only thing he would achieve by doing that would be hatred from the citizens. He had to think of another way… If only Iarno was here. He was always more cunning when it came to tricky situations like this.

“Be it your way, Lodden. For the time being.” – Sildar straightened his back and turned around, regaining his composure and deciding to leave the office for now. He wouldn’t get anywhere with anger, he needed to plan and think… What would Iarno do in this situation?..

As he walked out of the office, deaf to all words of the mayor that followed, Sildar analyzed the problem. The mayor himself didn’t pose a significant threat, there wasn’t any guard on his side.. But there were the Redbrands. Maybe he isn’t stupid to not see them as a threat? Maybe they were paying him, bribing him… Using him.

The main issue was the lack of force on his side. Sildar was powerful, and so were these adventurers he hired, but there were only five of them against at least a few dozen Redbrands, whose ranks consisted of not only humans, but possibly goblins and bugbears, and god knows what else…

Gods damn it all. Without help from the Lords’ Alliance, he wouldn’t get anywhere… Even if Sildar would send word, to get reinforcements, the wait could be too much for Gundren. With every passing day, the Rockseeker and his brothers might be closer to death in the hands of the enemy…

Sildar needed to clear his mind, back in the tavern. In a hotheaded state, you wouldn’t get anywhere… That is what Iarno always said.

Chapter 9: Arc 2, Chapter 9: Falenas

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Falenas

Even though he wasn't in a lot of cities, Falenas found this one to be unimpressive. Not a single guard was roaming the streets! This was a recipe for disaster, no wonder these “red brands” were messing with the townsfolk. They were innocent farmers and merchants, defenseless against the banditry blooming in this town like a parasitic weed. And nothing would ever change about it, unless he and his righteous group would do something!

And that was the plan. Falenas was already thinking about how he would bring this scum to justice, how he would cleanse this town from all evil. After all, he didn't head here for no reason at all… While everyone's busy giving them praise, he'd have the opportunity to investigate everything for himself. But, for now, he and his slightly socially oblivious friend Callisto would get some drinks. A perfect way to spend their honestly earned gold!

Right as the two were heading back to the center of the ruined town, Falenas spotted something in the distance. An angry figure was marching towards the center too… An angry familiar figure. It was no other than Sildar! He looked like a volcano ready to erupt with fury, the anger expressed by the frown on his face rivaling that of the demons from the deepest depths of the abyss.

“Sildar, friend, you look upset. Tell me, what ails you?” – Genuinely concerned, Falenas moved closer to the man, and Callisto followed from behind.

“That… That bloody mayor… He's a spineless worm, that's what he is! He buries his head in the sand and pretends there's no such thing as a Redbrand threat, thinks of them as mere ruffians and bullies that will be gone in a week. Seeing how they've been here for a month, that's bullsh*t.”

“Ah.. I see, yes, I understand your frustration with that man…”

“… Yeah, no, he sounds as useful as a chocolate teapot.. I'm guessing you didn't find anything about your friend Iarno?”

“No, I doubt I will, from any official sources. We'll need to rely on just ourselves if we want to get anything done here. But enough of that.. Everything went smooth with Barthen?”

“Indeed, my good sir! We’ve just delivered the supplies and got our coin. Our other friends went on to talk to the locals, specifically with that old adventurer missis Linelle told us about. We, on the other hand, are heading on to get some well-earned drinks!”

“Speak for yourself.. I doubt they have good wine here… Would be a miracle if they had anything but rust-colored alcohol.”

“Hmmm… You two should go on, I think I’ll go have a word with the locals too. You see that stone shrine in the middle of the city? It’s been kept safe from Redbrands, who seem like the kind of guys to destroy it for fun. That means there’s a priest nearby, or a priestess… I’ll go try and find her.”

“Whatever you deem important, Sildar! Join us in the tavern whenever you’re done.”

“Yeah, we better head to the inn now. I hope they rent rooms… I’m tired of sleeping on dirt.”

With that, Falenas and Callisto parted ways with Sildar. The path to the inn wasn’t long, the town itself could most likely be traversed within a few good minutes of walking. With a smile, Falenas headed right in, opening the door widely.

The interior was.. Not particularly impressive. A few old tables, some chairs, and the bar. Behind the counter stood the barkeep, a hunky man with pale green skin and short black hair. Small tusks protruded from his lower jaw.. An orc, of the lesser variety, maybe a half-orc half-human. And a bartender? Falenas wouldn’t call them refined innkeepers, that’s for sure. Too.. Large and clumsy, and he didn’t like his drinks being spilled. Even if he drank mostly water.

Callisto moved past the paladin and landed himself on a seat by the counter. Falenas shook off his thoughts, picking a stool close to Callisto’s, and speaking firmly yet loudly to the half-orc.

“Barkeep! Do you have any ale today?”

“And I’d like some wine, red, of the sweet variety, if you have something like that around here…”

The barkeep looked at them with his eyes slowly squinting. He must’ve noticed their elven ears. From underneath the counter, he pulled out a sizeable book, dusting it off and opening it at the end, the summary specifically.

“Race, age?” – The half-orc’s eyes stared into the book, waiting to hear the answer from the two.

“Wood elf, forty three!” – Falenas proudly spoke, smiling widely.

“... Nah, you’re too young for ale. Elves’ legal drinking age is one hundred. And you, kid?”

“I’m, uh, a half-elf, and my age is… One hundred, twenty and three?..” – Falenas heard Callisto utter nothing more than a filthy lie, and he couldn't let something like that slip! Underage drinking, especially for elves, is a terrible crime that he wants to save Callisto from!

“No way that's true! You can not be older than me! You look like you’ve just crawled out of kindergarten!”

“Well yes I am! You're the only yellow belly here, fancy paladin pants!” – Callisto only smirked and showed his tongue, acting a whole lot more immature than Falenas…

And yet, despite all that, the barkeep seemed to believe Callisto. Was he actually that old, or was he lying straight to the barkeep’s face? And.. What method did that man even use? He didn’t want to be a sore loser in this matter, just silently watching as the barkeep took out a blackish bottle of wine and put it onto the table. Callisto slid the man a gold coin in return. With a sigh, Falenas simply asked for water. Not too long after, a pair of familiar faces entered the tavern. Aeven and Harbek returned, back from exploring the town. The firbolg excitedly walked up to the other two, already a big smile present on his face.

“Good news lads, we got ourselves an ass-kicking job. That Edermath chap told us he knows something about Redbrands, and he’ll help us out if we help him. Told us to get rid of a necromancer, at some place called Old Owl Well. Not sure where that is though…”

“Didn’t he say it was north of some Thundertree settlement? Or, no, I think it was east… Excuse me sir, would you happen to know anything about it?” – Aeven looked up at the half-orc, who, as Falenas could tell, was a bit tired of seeing elves swarm his tavern… And yet, after a bit of thinking, he looked back at the ranger and spoke.

“Thundertree’s where Old Reidoth lives at. A local druid. You can reach the city if you follow the road to the north east, left of the abandoned manor on top of the hill. Wouldn’t recommend it though, it’s not the friendliest place.”

“If my friends are saying there’s a necromancer dwelling in those parts, I don’t imagine they are friendly at all! But worry not, we shall vanquish him and cleanse the land. Once we get to it, of course… In the meantime, though, we’d like to rent some rooms–”

Before Falenas could inquire about the cost of setting in for a short while, the doors were opened wide. Out of them was blasting laughter and chatter, and not the fun kind. The group’s eyes turned to the group that entered, and it didn’t take them long to realize who they were.

These four men, dressed in brown leather armors, all had visible weapons – daggers, swords, bows. But, more notably, each of them wore something red. A cloak, a shirt, a piece of cloth, whatever they could get their hands on. Their chatter suddenly stopped when they noticed the group of four sitting by the counter. The one doing most of the talking, a black-haired man with an unshaved stubble, looked at the party with a smirk and addressed them.

“Well lookie here! We got some fresh meat in town. Been a while since someone new gave us a visit.”

Falenas felt disgust just by looking at the man. His roguish manner of speech, his greasy unwashed hair, his dirty clothes. He was practically filth and yet he spoke to them like he was their superior, their “boss”. Falenas didn't like that, but hadn't reached for his weapon yet – he had to be civilized, at least for now. The man, in the meantime, continued speaking.

“Now then, if you wanna settle in our beautiful town, we gotta make sure you're friends of ours. And friends show each other respect. How about you buy us a round of drinks and we have a nice talk about respect, eh?”

“I will not spare my coin for you. Beg in some other place!” – Falenas’ fuse was rather short when it came to temper. His patience very much knew bounds, which these Redbrands were now crossing. His fists were clenched within the iron gloves, ready to give a taste of themselves.

“That so? Well I insist. You wouldn't want me to think you're, ahhh, disrespecting me, would you?”

Just as those words came out of the Redbrand’s mouth, he drew a longsword from the sheath hanging on his belt. The blade was waving in his hand, unsteady, as it was pointing at Falenas’ face. The paladin inhaled through his nose, feeling the stench that surrounded the man. He was already drunk, alongside his friends.

Falenas threw a quick glance at the group sitting beside him. All of them looked tense already – Callisto showed disgust on his face, Aeven simply frowned, while Harbek himself was reaching for his terrific mace. Without any words, Falenas understood that a fight was inevitable. In that case, he would make it a show to remember!

*Alright, it shall be as you say. I will gladly treat you all…”

Before finishing his phrase, Falenas’ armed hand grasped the sword tightly, shoving it to the side, while his other fist flew into the face of the unmannered drunk. With that strike, he was sent flying into the tables behind. Victoriously, Falenas threw the old sword down to the Redbrand, a wide smirk now decorating his prideful face.

“… With my fists! Now, friends, show these fools our might and righteousness!” – Immediately, Falenas drew his own blade and shield, with the other behind him following suit.

“Gah.. What are you waiting for, morons?! Get ‘em!” -The knocked-down man pressed one of his gloved hands against his bleeding nose. The Redbrands weren't waiting for much longer, revealing a vast yet cheap array of weapons, thirsting for the blood and coin of the party.

Harbek, screaming in rage, lunged forward at their enemies. He was met with an opponent of almost his size, a human with nothing but his fists. Despite being a drunkard, his strength was formidable, as he wrestled the mace and the shield of Harbek, both trying to overcome each other.

Aeven jumped atop the bar counter, her arrow already piercing the shoulder of an unfortunate fellow, one too busy drawing his handaxes to notice the arrow heading his way. One of the sneakier Redbrands, wrapped in a cloak, tried stabbing Falenas in the side, only to be cut off with Callisto's own daggers.

Falenas in the meantime got busy with their leader. Once the man recovered from the blow to his nose and mustered the strength necessary to stand up, Falenas began masterfully striking him with his longsword. Slash after slash sent the man back, forcing him to retreat. But it was commendable, to a degree – for even when he wasn't sober he still held his own in a fight.

However, the Redbrands stood no chance. Goblins had enough ferocity to make up for their lack of skill, but these bandits had neither. With barely a scratch on the group, they demolished the Redbrands – Harbek felled the brawny man, Aeven took care of the handaxe wielder, but only Callisto was unable to stop the sudden escape of the cloaked Redbrand. The elusive one jumped right out of the window and into the streets, and soon the sight of him was lost. Now, the only one left alive in the inn was the leader of the Redbrands.

“Tell me, Redbrand, why are you in this town really? To rob and pillage the innocent folk’s homes?!” – Falenas’ foot was firmly planted on his chest, while his trusty blade was pointed at the man’s head.

“Nah, nah! I mean, yeah, but we ain’t killing nobody! We got orders to capture you four specifically!” – Frantically, the man reached into his coat, taking out a piece of paper stuck in a blue envelope. Callisto reached down for it, and read it out loud to the group.

“Lets see.. Ahem, here goes… “Captain Horace, I have been informed that Gundren, one of the three Rockseeker brothers, did not plan on coming to Phandalin alone. A group of adventurers is expected to follow after him…

… Find out who they are, capture them if you can, kill them if you must. They will most likely align with the locals and attempt to disturb our plans. Don't let them. Make sure to deliver to me any and all maps of dwarven origin you find on them. Do not disappoint me.” Signed, Glasstaff. Huh. Must be their leader.”

“Ye-yeah! An elf guy. We call him that because he has a, y’know, staff made out of glass… But that’s all I know, swear! Just robbin’ folks here and delivering it all to the manor!”

“Thank you kindly then, “captain” Horace. Here is your reward!” – Falenas’ foot rose up before flying down, smashing the man’s nose and knocking the consciousness out of him. From beneath the counter, hiding for most of this time, came out the half-orc barkeep. He spoke a curse under his breath, before addressing the party.

“You better not leave him and the others here. You wrecked this place enough, I don’t need rotting corpses.”

Falenas only now realized how unthoughtful his actions were. To start a fight, here, in a tavern… And to leave blood all over the floor! It is supposed to be a place of drunken joy and happy oblivion, not a bloodbath. Immediately, the elf reached into his pouch, taking out all of his recently gained coin, and putting it on the counter in front of the half-orc.

“Please take my deepest apologies! I hope this will be enough to cleanse my honor in your eyes and to hopefully replace the broken floorboards and tables. Now, I’m afraid we must be–”

“What the bloody hell happened here?!”

The apology was interrupted by an old voice of a warrior. Sildar stood in the doorframe, his eyes wide. Staring at the battlefield in front of him, he was unable to utter another word. Falenas understood him – they just spoke minutes ago.

“Oh, well, we were just taking care of the local garbage. They have shown quite some disrespect to us, and we had to retaliate!”

“Retaliate isn't the word I'd use.. It was honestly more like bullying. One of them even ran away, back to the manor. Must be where they're squatting. And by the looks of it, there's going to be a lot of them… We probably shouldn't stick around to find out.”

“What?! You're saying one of them got away? Then indeed, you all should listen to Aeven. She is pretty good at navigating in the woods, I'm sure you'll find a place to hide until you've got the chance to find out more about Gundren and Iarno’s fates…”

“Oh, yay, more forest camping, as if we didn't have enough of that for the past few days. I didn't even get a chance to have a bath!” – As Callisto was beginning to whine, he was swiftly cut off by Falenas.

“Then it shall be so, my friend Sildar! Lead the way Aeven, we must tactically retreat for the time being… Or should I say we're off for more quests? To Thundertree!”

Harbek only let out a short grunt of an answer, but everyone nodded to this. Sildar grabbed the captain of Redbrands from the floor, presumably to arrest him properly, while the rest of the group took up their packs and ran out of the tavern, leaving the captain and the corpses in Sildar’s care. Falenas felt obligated to stay and help the barkeep, but was a little bit glad to leave the work for Sildar and head off into the adventure!

Even if this all seemed a bit too murderous, he felt it was righteous. They were righteous. To rid the town from these criminals would be a good deed! But, unfortunately, Falenas had to prepare himself more than that if he wanted to further advance his quest. No matter how right it is to save Gundren and his brothers, there was a more dire need in the mind of the paladin.. One that he, despite everything, was reluctant to think about for now.

Running along the dusty roads of a ruined city, with his friends running beside him, Falenas forgot about the troubles that chased him. He had not experienced such a close tie to anyone for a long while… For too long of a while. Even though a bright smile was on his face, a deep feeling of sorrow was within Falenas, deepest of all.

Right now though he had no time for that. With true joy emanating from him, he led the group behind him, dashing towards the forests. He was no ranger and no druid, but he was a wood elf. It was Falenas’ prime ground, the perfect place for him and his kind. But then he remembered the goblins they met, and the Redbrands.

These lands were far from safe, far from good, and there was no one in these parts brave enough to stop all the evils… No one but then. Determination surged through the paladin, his oath burning bright in his heart. No matter what it takes, he shall be on the righteous path and help his allies stay on that path… Although, they were not just allies – this time they were his friends. He would not let any darkness corrupt them! Not while he is alive!

Chapter 10: Arc 2, Chapter 10: Harbek

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Harbek

After Moradin-knows-how-many hours, Harbek felt absolutely exhausted. Sure, he has done plenty of exercise and training back in the homeland, but this was outrageous. To run for this long, in full armor and gear… He very much enjoyed shattering the ribs of that Redbrand he fought, but the cost was high. According to Sildar, they had stirred enough trouble for the entire beehive to target them now. It was no longer safe in the city for them… Not until they get rid of the Redbrands.

At the very least, Harbek could enjoy some rest now. The bright flames of their campfire warmed Harbek, as he and the rest of the group sat around it. The night sky was clear, stars and the moon shining down on the forest. The firbolg had his equipment and clumsy armor laid aside, just in his travelling clothes, same as everyone else. Harbek was currently watching over a pot, hanging above the fire. In it was boiling a stew, but it was far from ready yet. He felt a bit bored, with everyone just staring at the flames, with the exception of Aeven, who stared into the dark foliage. This was a perfect chance to try and get to know them a little!

“So, how did you lot get where you are now?”

“I actually was a renowned bard before this. I still have a flute back from those days…” – Surprisingly enough, Callisto was the first to respond. Harbek noticed that he wasn't particularly excited, and decided to cheer him up with some banter.

“Really? I'd never guess that, bards are usually dumb and make horny jokes all the goddamn time. I'm glad you're above that.”

“Oh, no, I was more, uh, sophisticated than that. I used to work for a king before, and played for his court. The nobles were quite nice – they had etiquette and class, and actually took baths every now and then. Unlike you guys.” – A giggle escaped his lips with a smile creeping up his face. Harbek smiled as well, letting out a chuckle, and Falenas also joined the conversation.

“Well if you're a bard, sing some ballads for us! Entertain us for the evening, boast about the heroes of old, bring our spirits up!”

“… It would be better if we remained quiet. The Redbrands could be after us. Singing songs would give us away and hide their approach.” – Their ranger's voice of reason helped keep the group in check… This wasn't the first time Aeven had to intercept their loud activities today, but Harbek had to agree with her.

“Ahhh, Aeven's right. Sorry Callisto, we'll have to hear your high pitched voice some other time.”

“That's okay, I haven't held a flute in my hands for a while now anyway. I actually had a different name back then – my stage name was Nightingale, heh.”

“You're saying it's been long since you "held a flute in your hands”? And then you also had a “stage name”? Callisto, were you a stripper or something?

“Wh- NO!” After Harbek's inappropriate comment, Callisto's face lit up with red, and his still unpacked bedroll was thrown in his face. Falenas erupted in laughter while Aeven simply let out a chuckle. Harbek removed the bedroll from his head and placed it by his side.

“Alright, alright, sorry about that.” – Harbek apologized with a giggle, not really sorry for having provoked such a hilarious reaction.

“Now you're not getting any songs for sure…” – With a pout, Callisto crossed his hands and frowned his eyes. His brown eyes turned away to stare at something in the woods…

“Anyway, what about you two folks? Do you have any depressing life stories behind your back?” – Harbek turned to Aeven and Falenas, a smile present on his cow face.

“Oh heavens no, nothing like that! I will never be found in such a low mood. Not while I have my trusty quest to keep me away from straying into darkness, that's for sure. My divine oath will light my way and lead me to my goals!”

“Ah, another fine priest! Gotta say I suspected you were something like that, with your magical healing abilities. Although paladins are a bit different than us clerics… You never mentioned what sort of an oath that is, now that I think about it.”

“Well, it's not something to be freely disclosed… But I trust you all, so I shall share it to a degree. My oath is that of vengeance! I swore to bring a certain evil to its just trial at the gates of afterlife, with my sword. And to beat up any bad guys I meet along the way, while I'm at it.”

“Now that I can understand, plain and simple, whoop evil bastards and be blessed. Sounds like it'll be useful for our quest, too… And what of you, Aeven? Wanna tell us why you're traveling?”

“… It just so happens that I'm looking for someone, in a similar way that Falenas does. And that someone is somehow tied to goblins and whatever is happening in here. I can't say more, not before I have clear evidence of the connection.”

“That is… Ominous. But I won't pry, as long as we get Gundren and his brothers out of wherever the f*ck Cragmaw Castle is, do what want in spare time.”

"And what of you, Harbek? Are you also on the fierce path of vengeance, or like Callisto, simply wandering the lands?”

“Nah, nah, my dwarven clan actually sent me. Supposed to be my first mission in the outlands – I'm tasked with helping Gundren and whatever his brothers were planning with the Spell Forge. Apparently, my dad Olgrin, the clan leader used to work with some blokes over here, in Phandalin, and Rockseekers reached out to him for help. We're not really the type to leave our friends in a ditch, so we agreed.”

“Hold on, your dwarven clan? And you say this Olgrin guy is your father… Aren't you a firbolg?”

“Oh for Moradin’s sake Callisto, just because I'm a cow-elf-giant doesn't mean I can't be in a dwarven household. Olgrin’s my dad, although we're not blood related or anything.”

“Oh, sorry… I didn't realize that was the case. But hey, maybe we could ask your clan for help, get some backup? Could you send them a message somehow?”

“Nah, I don't have anything magical like that or enough skill to craft magic items either… Olgrin can make pretty much anything though, so if we do find a way to bring him here, we're all set.”

“Don't you find it interesting? The Spell Forge, and a dwarven clan that used to work here. Sounds suspiciously close, if you ask me.” – Aeven suddenly voiced her thoughts out loud, while leaning on a tree nearby. The thought actually made Harbek think – what if it was really true? Could it be that Olgrin and the Emberforged were here, all these centuries ago? Although right now it was just a theory, Harbek would certainly try to find out more about it.

It all just felt so… Bizarre. Even though the cleric still couldn't understand it all, he felt like his group was just a part in the greater scheme of things – as if they delved into many yarns, these strings that were all somehow connected, yet there was no clear way to pull them apart. The only thing he could do for now is just delve deeper and see where it leads. Can't be that bad, right?

The talk around the campfire soon began dying down, just like the flame itself. Everyone was getting ready to sleep – the atmosphere in the woods was calming, surprisingly more serene compared to what they experienced on their road to Phandalin. The moon was shining, high in the sky, its rays barely able to pass through the thick foliage. Harbek doesn't remember the last time he slept under an open sky, especially with a group of strangers. With his hands underneath his head, he scared away all of the unruly thoughts in his head, filling his lungs with fresh forest air and closed his eyes, heading off to sleep after a long, tiring day of adventuring.

Chapter 11: Arc 2, Chapter 11: Callisto

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Callisto

Ugh, Callisto had rotten luck as usual – right before midnight, as everyone was going to sleep, sticks were drawn to see who would stand on watch tonight. Callisto took the shortest stick, and he was given the job of being first to scan the surroundings for any Redbrands, goblins or other monsters that could roam the lands.

This would just completely ruin his already wrecked sleep schedule. Luckily he would only have to stay up for a few hours before he'd need to wake up the next unlucky person. And then he would be able to hug his pillow and sleep tight… That's the least of what he and others deserved, really. They almost got themselves a room at the inn, before the bloody Redbrands barged in and ruined everything. And now they had to go out into the woods, alone, at night… Wondrous!

In all honesty, the half-elf didn't feel bad about his duty. Last thing he wanted was having his throat slit late at night. Then again, this Glasstaff fellow mentioned in the letter he wanted them alive, unless they had to be killed. That always was a wonky definition in Callisto's head, dead or alive… And for yet another unexplainable reason, it seemed familiar to him.

Callisto took out one of his daggers, twirling it in his hand, making moonlight that reflected off of it dance around the leaves around them. Thinking about his past again… It never got him any merit, with exception of melancholy and nostalgia. Everything about Phandalin was familiar, even if he was reluctant to admit it. This seemed more like a simple job to him now, it felt weirdly personal.

That also seemed to be the case for everyone around him too. Each of them had some sort of a goal in mind, a thing they wanted to achieve or someone they wanted to find… While all that Callisto had was emptiness. He sighed loudly, sheathing the dagger. No way he'd find anything by sulking, that's for sure…

His eyes stared into the darkness that laid in the deep woods, beyond the reach of the moon’s light above. That is where their path lies, in the unknown and the unexplored. This is what he signed up for, after all – and adventuring is no easy job, even for a skilled individual like him.

His thoughts began drifting away to his time at the royal court… The most pristine of all baths were there, and you could spend hours just drifting in the hot waters, foamy with soap. They could eat the most refined and delicious meals, prepared by the best of Swordcoast’s chefs. They could sing and dance all night long, with never ending rivers of wine to supply their fun.

With a dreamy smile on his face, Callisto barely noticed how his eyes slowly closed themselves, and he laid down on the tree log he was sitting on, for it was the most comfortable bed he could ever imagine.

The sound of noble gossip and clinking of glasses full of drinks began echoing in the distance of Callisto's consciousness. It was as if he stood behind a closed door, ready to enter the world of royalty with a grand performance. But, upon opening his eyes, he felt… Different. There was darkness all around him, with only a little bit of light flowing through a smooth opening in what seemed like a jacket. It was almost like he became smaller, hidden in the inner pocket of some person.

Callisto was shaken – literally – as the person took steps around the ballroom, approaching different nobles and talking with them. The figure who held him was a man – and his powerful, authoritative voice dominated any conversation they'd enter. From that terrific voice alone felt cold shivers going down his spine – and realized that his shape is… Different. His back is long, curved, bent forth. And it is sharp…

The room soon was left – with swift steps, the man weaved around the different attendees and went to the second floor, where his hands opened a pair of doors leading to a large yet empty balcony. Moonlight freely shone on the floor, and the man who stood there, leaning on the railing right by the edge. Callisto heard his heavy voice.

“Ah, so good of you to join me here. The ball is far too loud for me. Still, we must celebrate! The alliance has been a grand success, we're already receiving payments and orders from all around the Swordcoast. I trust you'll ensure the safety of our operation?”

“Indeed, Lord Tresendar. I will take care of everything…”

That voice again… Callisto felt another round of horrified shivers on his back, before a hand grasped him. He was taken out by the hand of this mysterious man, drawn into the moonlight, while the other one, this Lord Tresendar, looked into the distance atop a settlement of sorts. He seemed to be wearing clothes of white and red…

Unfortunately, Callisto wasn't able to get a closer look. In but a moment, a thick, ooze-like liquid of a dark green, sick color coated the entirety of him. He felt disgusted, yet unable to do anything!

No matter how much he struggled, Callisto couldn't move – he didn't feel any of his muscles. The man was raising him high up in the air, right in the view of the moonlight, approaching the lord. Callisto tried to scream, but his voice was drowned in the green liquid as he was thrusted deep into the back of the unfortunate man…

Chapter 12: Arc 2, Chapter 12: Aeven

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: Aeven

After Callisto, it was Aeven's turn to take watch and guard their camp… He was supposed to wake her up, but in the end it happened the other way around. Being an elf, Aeven never really needs to sleep, only partaking in a ritual to enter a half-conscious trance and rest her mind. What woke her up in the first place was whimpering – Callisto was rolling on his oak log, shaking. Without hesitation, Aeven jumped off her bedroll and reached for his shoulder, pushing him back and forth as she held on tight.

“Callisto! Callisto, wake up!”

With a small yell, the rogue’s eyes opened wide and he fell off the log in terror. He looked around, frantically, as if searching for something… Which only gave Aeven more confusion.

“Is everything alright? Did you… Fall asleep on your watch?”

“Y-yeah, sorry, I just… The night drove… Night drove me to sleep. I'm sorry I… There's nothing that appeared, we're safe.”

“… Okay, you sound like you really need sleep. How about you lay down on a bedroll and get some rest?”

Callisto nodded along, his eyes looking tired and still horrified. What happened here last night? Did anyone come by while he was asleep?.. Aeven couldn’t get any answers out of him right now, and they needed him to be awake and rejuvenated tomorrow.

Now, the ranger stood alone in the middle of their camp, her green eyes carefully studying the branches of different trees around her. A pattern of nature weaved itself from the foliage and the moonlight coursing through them. She understood how Callisto felt uneasy here, stalked and trapped, despite being an elf. Aeven, however, was at home here. The chill air of the night slightly rustling the leaves, some critters running along the short grass, the creaks of the gigantic trees.

A night like this… It was exactly like her first trial. All rangers had to go through them to prove themselves – and she, the youngest of Leldastraths, had to partake in it. Her family consisted of nature’s wardens – her mother, her brothers, her sisters, all were trained in the art of becoming one with nature. The challenges ranged from taming wild animals to surviving on your own for weeks. The first trial, needed to seed out those not yet ready for the initiation, was hiding.

Aeven remembered how she and a dozen or so of other newbies were running across the endless forests, camouflaging themselves and climbing on treetops. The “hunters” were experienced rangers of the clan, seeking out the “prey” and neutralizing them. Some were found immediately, others were caught off guard by the hunters’ tactics. Aeven was barely able to escape their clutches, quite literally dashing away from the hawk companion of one of the rangers.

The memories of all the trials made Aeven sigh. In her hands was the bow, the very same she used to train with all the time. Elvenkind of the woods were known to craft the most powerful and long lasting bows. Their strings would never wear out, the arches would never snap. Without even noticing, Aeven grasped the weapon, her eyes gently closing, as she leaned back on the tree she stood by and fell into a trance.

Upon awakening, Aeven realized that even though she was leaning on a tree, she now stood straight. Her spine, arms and legs were all stretched out, as if she was reaching up and trying to grab something from a high shelf. But she also felt how the wind was flowing against her, how it blew her air back.

In but a moment, someone's hand reached for her, and put her against a piece of wood and a string, pulling her back. Around her was nothing but plains, and a grand forest stretching behind her. Her eyes, however, faced forth, at a round target of white and red.

Then, Aeven realized that the hand holding her and pulling her against the bowstring was familiar. It was no one but herself, and not she alone… This was one of the many times Aeven and her mother went outside of the forest grounds, to improve her aim and skill. Nostalgia washed over the wood elf, before suddenly she the hand drawing the bowstring let go – sending her flying forth and hitting the target. Aeven was thrusted deep within it, sticking out of it yet stuck firmly.

She heard friendly chatter and giggling come from far away, Aeven and her mother, Ontarie… She would give anything to get back there, to those fields, back to her community… But the two figures left beyond the tree line, hiding within the green of the forest. Time began passing – and soon, it was night. How many days she was there, an arrow stuck in the target? Too long…

What startled Aeven were heavy steps, followed by hundreds of others, shaking the ground behind them. The target was approached by someone, or something large… Then, long, clawed fingers wrapped themselves around her, pulling her out of the target. The figure in the darkness of the night stared at what was in its hand, before clutching it even tighter with a devilish snarl. The power of the grasp was enough to snap Aeven in two, indescribable pain bringing Aeven back from the realm of dreams into reality.

Chapter 13: Arc 2, Chapter 13: Falenas

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Falenas

Falenas' trance was uninterrupted for the most part. He drew the second longest stick, and thus was the last to take watch, which was fine by him – being an elf, he only needed about four hours of trance in order to feel rested. And it just so happened that he would be the last to take watch, after the vigilant Aeven, right after he got his full sleep.

Opening his eyes with a smile on his face, Falenas stood up and straightened out his back, stretching as he yawned with a big smile on his face. After rubbing his eyes, he looked around the forest – it was early morning already, with the moon beginning to hide behind the horizon and with the sun planning to rise in just a few hours.

The camp looked safe in the night, Callisto and Harbek both were alive and well in their bedrolls. Aeven, however, looked distraught, standing idly by a tree and staring into the ground by her boots. Her eyes were filled with gloom, face lacking any warmth.

“Aeven, friend, are you alright? You seem particularly exhausted..”

“Just had a tough night… Not used to breaking in and out of my trance.” – Aeven quietly went back to her bedroll, sitting down with legs crossed. By the frowned look on her face, Falenas could tell she was worried, and still alert about her surroundings… Well, that is why he was here, to make sure there is nothing to worry about!

The sound of just keeping watch didn't excite Falenas very much though. Being a bit of a hothead, his fists itched for a fight. Of course there weren't any Redbrands or goblins here to beat up… Not that he wished there were any here right now. His fingers ran through his short, blonde hair, while he sighed, deep in thought. If he couldn't fight anyone, maybe he'd just exercise with his sword.

It's been a while since Falenas was able to wield a longsword in a double-handed grip, usually having to equip a shield in order to protect himself and his allies, even if the sword was able to cut through anything with such power in it. A smirk appeared on the elf’s chiseled face – he figured out who his opponents would be.

Barely visible shadows cast by last traces of the moon were hiding within the thick trees and their branches, long leaves swirling with the wind. Without his armor, Falenas gracefully moved around the different obstacles, his sword flying up and down, hitting invisible opponents and knocking them down. The sharp sword of elven iron cut through the air in a satisfying way, even if there was no reward. It was simply fun to spin, dance in the woods, dodge the branches and land thrusts at weak spots of enemies that didn't even exist.

“Take that, wretched fool!” – Falenas shouted with a wide smile, his weapon hitting the tree with a horizontal attack. He held the sword there for a few more seconds, looking at the cut he made. Normally, Falenas never hurt nature, but he felt like he was getting carried away…

And the moment that feeling washed over him, it was almost like the entire world around was suddenly shaken, just once, and everything shifted. Falenas felt like he was no longer there, in the woods, finding himself standing atop a hill, within a village, covered in snow… Everything felt surreal as Falenas stumbled in confusion, a headache taking over his mind. He moved the snow apart as he went forth – before he realized, it was ash.

All around him burned wooden huts and homes, the charred logs falling down and ruining the construction. Streams of war and pain surrounded him as Falenas was unable to comprehend what he was doing… Before once again, he understood that he was never even walking. He was dragged along the ground, carried in someone's hand. This creature’s fingers – long, black and clawed – wrapped themselves around him. He felt a presence of pure malice emanating from whoever this was, consumed by desire of evil and darkness.

“What… Where am I.. What is going on?”

He felt something staining him… Something thick and red. The clawed hand grasped Falenas’ cold body harder, raising him upwards into the sky. With two of his eyes, Falenas saw far beneath him, on the ground, laying a bleeding elf, upon which he was brought down, followed by a painful scream, cut short by no one but himself.

“NO!”

Falenas shouted in rage, tearing away at the hand with all his might, trying to break free. Only then his eyes cleared, as he stood in the forest, alone, his sword stuck deep in a tree stump. It seemed like he was the one to put it in there… The elf's green eyes wandered around the forest, before he heard Callisto's voice echo towards him.

“Faleenaaas! Where are you?!”

Falenas composed himself again… It wasn't a good idea to talk about what happened to him, not yet. He couldn't show weakness… He put this trance behind him, pulling the sword out of the stump and walking back to the party.

Chapter 14: Arc 2, Chapter 14: Harbek

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: Harbek

Harbek laid in his bedroll with a smug look on his bearded face. Tightly wrapped in the blanket, the firbolg was enjoying his sleep like no other in this camp – he drew the longest stick of all, and got off watch duty. If there's one thing Harbek enjoyed more than anything, it was a good sleep. He was able to endure anything while asleep, already being used to many different annoying factors disturbing him from the outside. In the dwarven barracks, nighttime was always full of loud snoring and sometimes sneezing, the smell was absolutely terrible, and sometimes they had to resort to sleeping on rocks.

This is both a blessing and a curse – Harbek can enjoy an unpleasant night no matter the conditions, but he can't really sense danger either. He felt lucky and wasn't about to spend his night thinking about anything, really. His mind was as open as a barrel of ale at a dwarven wedding… Open to the night.

This void of silence that was in Harbek’s head was slowly beginning to disappear. Like a priest, chanting a warding prayer, a peculiar sound in his head was scaring away the nothingness. Something metal was striking down, creating these clangs…

Soon, the firbolg began seeing light appear – with each of these clangs, sparks flew off. Red, like fire, they sprang off whatever the metal was hitting. Harbek opened his eyes wider, and saw the shape of a hammer landing on him. It was almost like he laid there, beneath in, right on the anvil…

The world around him began taking a clearer shape. The forge by which stood the anvil created terrific heat, which only multiplied in the stone walls of a deep cavern. Someone unprepared could faint in here… It was like a sauna within the volcano’s depths, where weapons, armors and other refined works were crafted. Crafted by the one currently holding Harbek in his tongs.

Before the anvil stood a man, with half of the height, no taller than four feet. In his long, black beard were interwoven rings of silver, runes on them indicating his position as the head of the Emberforged clan. It didn't take Harbek more than a second to recognize Olgrin in that man, his very father – except something was different about him. The corners of his eyes, the strength of his hammer’s strikes, the wellspring of energy keeping him together in even the most grueling of scorching heats, protected by nothing but some black clothes, an apron and leather gloves. There was glee in his eyes as he focused on the work laying upon his anvil…

Harbek didn't see that elderly wisdom in his eyes. Olgrin was younger here – much younger. His beard nowadays had turned to a greyish black, he was hardened by the years like steel is hardened by the hammer… And yet none of it was here now.. What in the hells was going on?

Unable to voice his question out loud, Harbek remained in silence, as only the strikes of Olgrin’s hammer echoed across the mountain forge. Soon, however, another sound was heard – clanking of armor and heavy steps. Harbek could see a mighty figure now standing by the dwarf’s side, considerably larger than him.

This was a dragonborn, of red scales, at least twice as tall as his father. His fine armor of white was decorated with a red cape, and the sign of a rose sat on his chest plate. The dragonborn took a deep breath in, unbothered by the forge's heat, his natural scales protecting the dragonborn from all fire. Then, he opened his maw and spoke in a deep, yet friendly voice, his pair of vertical pupils looking down at Olgrin.

“It seems like the work is going exceptionally well. Our lieutenants commend your fine craft, they've never seen anything like it!” – the eyes of the scaled man fell upon what rested on the anvil. – “Ah, another blade… I can tell, it is for the Lord, isn't it? Any guess on when it'll be done? The Lord is most excited for it, alongside his armor.”

In response, the dwarf looked up, seemingly unphased by the very question. For a second he was silent, his grip on the tongs holding Harbek still as tight as ever. Only then, he spoke.

“It will be done when it is done.” – that is when Harbek truly recognized his father, that very same stubborness was coursing through his veins, although only metaphorically. – “You better get back to you and your army in Phandalin, Aaldis. We don't need any supervision or protection. Not yet, at least…”

“That is the particular reason I arrived, indeed. I would never disturb a dwarf's work if it wasn't for a good reason, Olgrin. We need to talk about the enemy's advances…” – a frown appeared over the eyes of the dragonborn, who’s tone changed to a more serious one in just an instant. It is a bit weird, but the way he talked, full of pride and glory, reminded him of Falenas.

“Yes.. Right. Bloody savages…” – it seemed as if Olgrin shared the same seriousness, letting out a sigh. He turned his eyes to Harbek, still lying motionless on the anvil. – “Alright, I'll be back for you. Have a rest now.”

The tongs’ grasp let go, and Olgrin placed the hammer beside the blade on top of the anvil. After throwing a nod to this dragonborn named Aaldis, the two of them left the forge’s heat, disappearing in the darkness of grand stone halls. Harbek was left alone in this shrine of Moradin, the sacred domain of the Emberforged clan in the heart of the mountain. What in the bloody hells was going on with him? Was he really just a sword now? At the very least he was glad to have seen Olgrin again – but it would've been even better if they could speak… He'd know what to do in this tricky situation of theirs.

The darkness of the depths slowly began consuming the forge as Harbek's mind was overtaken by his thoughts. He wasn't able to think of much else, and soon the dream vanished into nothingness…

The firbolg woke up as the sun's rays hit his eyes through the thick foliage. Harbek lifted himself up from the bedroll, shaking his hair as fallen leaves were thrown off it. He let out a big yawn, rubbing his eyes and face, his beard already feeling rough. It's been a while since he has shaved or taken a bath… Harbek’s eyes then turned to the others in the camp, each of them was already awake. For some reason, their eyes all looked sullen and tired, as if none of them had any sleep whatsoever…

Welp, he ain't spending another day sitting around and waiting for Redbrands to find them. Harbek straightened his back, coughed a bit to clear his voice, and he spoke in a loud yet somewhat unexcited manner.

“Alright lovelies, rise and shine, we got arses to kick and a breakfast to eat. Hope you all slept well, because we got ourselves a necromancer to take down.”

“Yeah, alright… Sorry, I just had a terrible night. There was a nightmare..” – Callisto muttered from under his breath while rising from the log lying by the once-lit campfire.

“I had one too, now that you mention it. Right when I woke you up, I saw something in my dreams as well.” – Aeven was seemingly more collected than the half-elf, but also had a distraught look in her eyes.

“And I… I must say the same for myself, even if it felt more like a trance. I can not say what caused it!.. Perhaps you'd be more knowledgeable about it, my cow-like friend?” – Falenas’ spirit was low, but he rose up and spoke fiercely nonetheless

“Aye, I also saw a vision in my sleep, which never usually happens… Hold on, I might be able to understand what's really going on here. Give me a bit of time…”

Harbek usually slept with Moradin’s holy talisman on him, gently grabbing that pin in the shape of a hammer atop a shield. He closed his eyes tight, focusing his mind on Moradin and silently uttering a prayer.

Then, upon opening his eyes, the weave began unfolding in front of Harbek. He was able to sense the magic all around him, witnessing the world in a new light. And within it, the cleric was able to see traces of faint pink lines all around him, and everyone else. It was almost like he imagined it, but Harbek also caught a faint trace of perfume in the air, a scent not native to these forests. He wrinkled his bovine nose, waving his hand to scare the smell away.

“Bloody magic… Someone's been using Enchantment on us. This whole night, too – everyone here stinks of it. No idea who or what cast such a spell but they worked thoroughly on us.”

“That means these dreams weren't just a natural occurrence – they were specific to us, if we all had them in a similar way. You all were weapons, correct?” – Aeven once again voiced everyone's concern, with the entire group nodding along.

“Well, we can't do much about it anyway. None of us are turning crazy, so no point in dwelling on this. Come on then, let's get a grip and move outta here. This forest's giving me creeps…”

And so, the misadventurers quickly made breakfast, and after a quick meal they departed from their campsite. Harbek proudly marched on in front of the group, with Falenas by his side, the two of them prepared to fight anyone and anything, as long as Aeven and Callisto had their backs. The ruins of Thundertree were waiting for them… And Harbek felt that they held many, many new dangers in store.