Ruhk fights down the impulse to tell the man to mind his own business; this was no time to make enemies because he did not have any tact, after all, the lord of Shadowdales admonishment still rang fresh in Ruhk's ears.
"Not just your run of the mill thieves these...it's not like the secret won't be out soon enough, in a small town like this everyone will know by morning...Dock-alfar, what you people call Drow...and insane preists of Shar or some such nonsense as well."
Aleppo lays his spoon down on the table and lets out a low whistle. "Drow and priests of Shar, eh? Sounds like you've drawn the ire of some mighty unfriendly folks. We might have more in common than you think, then."
He stands up from the table, sweeping his cloak out to the side of his chair as he moves around to greet the man. "My name is Aleppo Nadun. I am, as you may have surmised, a Sembian... expatriate, if you will. I've no particular love for the political structure of my homeland, and I'm sure the feeling is mutual." He presented his hand to Ruhk with a smile, offering to shake.
Ruhk understands the gesture, but rather than shake by the hand Ruhk instead grabs Aleppos forearm, inviting him to shake hands like northmen do.
"I know nothing of Sembia nor do I particularly care about it, but tell me your tale."
Aleppo seems surprised by the gesture, and Ruhk's hand clamps down on a hard leather bracer with a thick metal spine inside it. He recovers his composure well enough, however, and returns the gesture in good spirits.
"Well... not to overly belabor the point, but I was a member of an organization there called the Night Knives. They are, as the name would imply, a guild of thieves and assassins. After spending the better part of my life amongst them, I quickly grew disgusted with the way they took advantage of the citizens there... and how they bribed and manipulated the guards so easily. As soon as I got the chance, I fled... and found myself continuing to flee all the way here."
The Sembian's stance relaxes a little and he leans slightly against the nearby bar. "I am here not so much by choice but rather by circumstance. This inn was certainly not my destination when I left Sembia, but rather I ended up here after discovering a wounded man in the woods last night. Had it not been for him I might well have passed it by and continued north."
"Oh? Last night you say? Drows, Bandits that were pawn to Drows, and that cleric of Shar(?) were about last night, maybe tis them that wounded him then, where is he now? He might have information that could be useful."
Easily heard in the tap room a loud voice from above declares. "Look I'm telling you i need to be out there looking for those black hearted, black souled, black bladed blaggards not lying around swaddled in these superfluous bandages drinking soup!" The voice seems more exasperated than angry and has a strong Cormyrian accent.
Aleppo looks up at the ceiling of the first floor and indicates the direction of Daen's voice. "That would be him, I think."
Arikor gives a slight smiling from his point, having merely listened to the entire conversation - he had taken a corner-post, and was busy writing along in a small book, as if recording events as they happened or perhaps the previous few days.
It's here the elf seems to be at home, and has a fresh glass of wine before him - he'd snuck in and bought the glass while they were talking, and made himself unnoticed as a part of it all.
When he hears the voice from upstairs, he sighs, and actually stands up, closing everything he's done, making notes below, and downs the whole glass. He approaches Ruhk and his new friend, and claps the large man on the shoulder.
"We need to leave soon. Best we do it under cover of darkness, and rest when daylight is on - for it is easier to see at day, and it will make our travels far more covert. Also, I've been rude.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, sir - the name is Arikor, and I hope you'll pardon my manners - we're in the middle of preparation for something greater. In fact, I would be the first to request your assistance - we could use another set of hands, and perhaps we can all learn more from each other. Would you care to come along? Think on it, while I check on our friend upstairs."
And with that, the elf began his trek to the room.
Ruhk snorts a little as he hears the voice coming from upstairs. "Aye, it sounds like it alright, tell you what, why don't you go tell your loud friend that if he wants to stick a few Drows or what not he can join us as well as yourself, because where we are going, there will be danger aplenty."
Ruhk nods to the disappearing Arikor as he mounts the stairs. "The elf...I mean Arikor got it right, and by the way, my name is Ruhk, Ruhk "Blackstaff" Arunson."
"Ay" Gareth mutters from behind the bar's counter, "The Loud one is yer new friend's companion. Quite 'o set o' lungs on 'im for someone who was brought in last night looking like a stuck pig." He chuckles and glances down at the dagger on his table, "Never my knife, Belongs to Elminster. He told me to 'old on to it till th' person who needed it came. Truthfully I got no Gods damned idea how to do that, but seems as good a guess as any that's you..." the portly Innkeeper gives Ruhk a once over, smiling a little, "Never took ye for a knife fighter though boy,"
Just as Arikor rounds the stairs to the second floor, Alice comes storming out of the room near the end of the hall, her face red and her soft young features contorted in a look of barely controlled rage, she turns a screams back down the hall, "Mayhaps next time we'll just toss ye back into the durned gutter and let th' rats 'ave their way with yer Superfluous arse!" And Arikor can't help but chuckle a little at how much the normally well mannered girl sounds like her father, both in her tirade and as she stalks past muttering "Pompous little cormyian highborn upstart son of a jackal!"
Looking into the room, Arikor sees a young, well groomed man, probably just out of his teens, naked from the waist up save for bandages around his waist, left arm, shoulder and the top of his head.
Standing looking perplexed at the girl's reaction the you man smiles ruefully to himself having not yet noticed the elf and says to himself "Alas once again you speak before you think Sir Kadian was right your mouth travels faster than a dragon flies, now you'll have to find and apologize to the girl, moron." As he goes to follow after the girl he finally notices he is not alone.
"Oh! Excuse me ah... sir? Did you see where the young lady went? It seems that my outburst has offended her."
"Heh, never took myself for a staff swinger either, but this here blackstaff and I are looking to become night but inseparable, the dagger seems to either key into that, or maybe I'll just give to Imzel to use, I saw her with one of these cheese cutters myself before."
Ruhk turns to Alice as she comes storming down the stairs. "Someone upset you lass? Want me to throw him out of a window? I can open it first even..."
"Well I don't know if I'd call him my 'companion' or not. I don't even know his name. He was half-delirious and near unconscious with blood loss before I found him. He's lucky to have survived the trip... and fortunate that I was able to carry him so far," the Sembian smirks. "Still, Lady Tymora gave me a chance to bring luck to the man... I only hope I've earned a bit of it for myself."
Arikor moves to stop Alice from moving, but does not actually do so - to do so might garner unneeded attachment and needs that he does not wish right now. So, he in turn moves to the man who wishes to stop her from moving.
The elf smiles, and brushes back his hair to where it had been before the girl had zipped past him.
"She has moved downstairs - I presume you're the injured? A pleasure to have met you, the Lord of Shadowdale has made it clear you are indeed a companion to us. Go on downstairs, relax, get a meal, and apologize - we have very little time to be wasting talking in this tavern, and you can be brought up to date on the road. Come now! Come!"
"Oh, and by the way - name's Arikor. Pleasure."
Looking even more nonplussed at the unusual introduction to Arikor Daen will reply " Uhhh... Daen... pleased to meet you too." He'll follow Arikor down stairs now way too confused to remember to grab any more clothes. "Lord... companion... road... Wha?"
The Sembian inclines his head towards Daen as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. "Good to see you up and about, then. Drow often poison their weapons, but by the grace of Tymora you have survived," he offers with a smile.
"I am Aleppo Nadun. I brought you here when I found you injured in the woods. I am no medic or druid, but my legs work well enough and you seemed rather reluctant to die."
Ruhk does his best to not sneer, but he does direct a penetrating stare towards Daen, reasonably convinced that it was him that caused Alice to get angry. Still, until he was told to throw him out of a window Ruhk would keep his cool. Besides, the man did have an impressive build, more muscular than even Ruhk himself, but by his walk he did not seem to have the same warrior’s grace. Either way, he was someone who you would rather have at your side than against you in a fight.
"Good to see you up and about, then. Drow often poison their weapons, but by the grace of Tymora you have survived,"
"Ain't Tymora that saved the bull headed lout, twas Mum and her poultices that pulled the bile from his blood." now standing near her father behind the bar, Alice sneered at Daen, turning towards Ruhk, "Aye that's him, but don't throw em out... Dad's said replacin' the glass is expensive."
cleaning yet another glass, Garreth gives an amused "heh... So it seems you folks are preparing to be off, where pray tell are you headin?"
Ruhk nods at Alice, taking her words at face value. "Very well then, I don't think I have enough coins to replace the window anyway."
Feeling somewhat relaxed, and having already confided a lot of information in strangers today, Ruhk merely shrugs at Garreth's question. "That there city in the woods, I forget it's name, something about a story...or a legend...no, a myth I think."
Ruhk makes a dismissive motion with his hand. "Ever since some powerful dead wizard decided he wanted a thick headed Northman for a successor and stuck his staff on me, I am not really sure what is going on anymore."
Ruhk Sticks the dagger back into his belt, seeing as Garreth has renounced any claims to it and leans heavily on the bar disk, eyeing the other occupants in the inn.
Aleppo looks around for a moment and shrugs, returning to the table with his rapidly-cooling bowl of oats.
"I've no particular direction or desire to be anywhere but away from Sembia. Beyond this bowl of oats, I have no plans for myself. Far safer to travel with others than alone, though, especially if there are drow about. If you think you have need of my skills on the road, well, I am at your disposal for the time being."
Ruhk glances over at Arikor and Imzel then he turns back to Aleppo. "I can't argue with that logic, alright, for the moment you can be our "jack o blades". Happy to have you." Of course, Ruhk being Ruhk, he looks anything but happy, his face taunt and drawn with the strain of everything he has experienced so far.
The Sembian smirks and makes a salutatory gesture with his spoon as he consumes another bite of his breakfast. "So be it, then. Should we encounter more of the black-skinned elves under any conditions other than violence, my mentor in Sembia was drow and thus I know a thing or two about them... including their language. Most of them will likely not be inclined to parley with us, but should we uncover any written correspondence, I should be able to decipher it."
Ruhk shrugs a little. "They will get what they deserve...if they come with drawn weapons then I'll spare none of them, if they want to talk they can, but nobody says we have to listen. It will be as it will be"
Ruhk turns to Garreth. "How about one for the road?"
Slowly trying to get his bearings the large man will bow towards Alice and say. "I'm sorry if my outburst offended you miss i'm afraid my impatience robbed my tongue of civility which i hope for your forgivness and i do thank you and your family for the care they have given me. As to my leaving there is no need to damage the place all you need do is ask and any person of civilized upbringing would leave without fuss."
He then turns his attention towards Arikor. "A pleasure to make your aquaintance Master Arikor i am Daen, Daen Cor... well Daen anyway . If such a noble personage as Lord Azalar has named me your companion who am i to argue."
He seems about to answer Aleppo when he blushes showing his youth far better than the battlescared body on display and says " Oh ... I beg your pardon perhaps i should go and get some proper clothes on before i greet the rest of you. with that he rushes back upstairs to retrive his clothes.
Ruhk glances after the departing Daen. "A little more muscles, not as tall and less agile...I could take him..." The Nortman mutters to himself.
Then he turns back to the bar, his less than friendly face once again assuming a scowl as the contemplates that mist that swirls in his head, sometimes he can almost figure out what the voices mean...but it always slips away again, making him scolw even more fiercly.
The sun is high, just now approaching its Zenith as the newly christened Swords of Shadowdale stand at the eastern edge of the town. They look to each other, this group of strangers and barely known aquaintances; the Northman bearing The Blackstaff on his back, the elf who's face bears that little constant smirk, the witch in her mask, and the two newest additions. The Sembian with his daggers easily sheathed at his side and the fresh faced yet physically imposing Paladin.
And so, on the the fourth day of the third tenday of Kythorn, in the Year of the Secret, the Swords of Shadowdale set forth on their first adventure...
Chapter Two: In a Mirror Darkly
The Borders of Cormanthor are, by most reasonable accounts, not far from Shadowdale, and after being on the road for the better part of the day, the tops of the imposing wall of ancient green trees can be seen at the times when the party comes to a clearing along the already forested path. At the pace at which the party has been going, it's most likely that they could reach Cormanthor by the next day.
But as it stands, the sun is beginning to dip along the western edge of the sky and soon it will be nighttime.
"If memory serves, we're not far from a trading outpost called 'Fort Oak.' I imagine we can find decent shelter there for the night, unless one of you is particularly fond of sleeping on the ground?" he glances about with a smirk, shrugging casually.
"Say... would you mind filling us in on why we're going into this forest? I mean, I did say I'd come along for lack of anything better to do, but I'd at least like to know our purpose here. Assuming that purpose is something more elaborate than simple revenge on the drow," he directs the question at no one in particular, but looks between Ruhk and the elf with a raised eyebrow.
"Beats me, I think it has to do with getting some answers why exactly I'm carrying this piece of magic with me, it belonged to someone named Khelben, powerful wizard from what I understand, and I think he used to spend some time in the Myth, we may figure out why he thought it a good idea to choose a Northman without a lick of magic in him to carry on his legacy." Ruhk idly scratches the top of his head as he speaks, he can just about feel a little stubble forming now, and it is time to shave soon.
After a moment he shrugs, hefts his gear and begins walking along the path, keeping an eye out for that outpost Aleppo mentioned.
"I'm glad i'm not the only one confused as to our purpose" Daen comments breaking the quiet that has surrounded him since leaving the old skull inn. "All i know is Arikor here told me Lord Azalar said i was one of your companions and that he would explain on the road. If it was up to me i'd be off hunting those drow creatures and bringing them to a hopefully brutal, painful justice."
"I'm not certain that a one-man crusade against the illithyri would be terribly productive, Daen, but at least your heart is in the right place," the Sembian claps the paladin on the shoulder good-naturedly.
"We have strength in numbers, now, and if these drow are anything like the others I've known they'll crumble in a stand-up fight. They are fond of their ambushes, though, so keep your eyes peeled and ears open. We're mostly safe during the daylight hours, but come nightfall they'll have the advantage."
Ruhk stops for a moment and calls back without turning around. "Yes, I can swear to that, an axe to the chest and they crumble like all the rest do." He then continues, anxious to get out of the dark before the shadows truly come alive.
The Sun sets as the party moves on through the wooded path, the trees becoming thicker and thicker the closer they come to Cormanthor.
As they round a bend in the path that dips into the valley, they catch their first sight of Fort Oak. Even from a distance you can see that it is definitely a "rustic" establishment. Two squat buildings and a large courtyard are surrounded by a tall wall made of tree trunks, their ends sharpened to points, a single wooden watch tower stands guard over the encampments lone gate. In the distance the glowing ambiance of a fire, possibly a cook fire, can be seen.
"We are also looking for a cormyrian scout called Valen traveling with a young mage, there is more to them than meets the eye, but I don't want to ruin the surprise..."
"Well i'm glad to know we will be helping a fellow Cormyrian."
Frowning slightly he'll add. "Whatever they are cooking it smells awful."
Aleppo frowns a moment, sniffing the air. After a brief moment of thought, his eyes go wide and he snaps his daggers into his hands from their concealed sheathes.
"That's no cook fire... it's a funeral pyre. Steel yourselves, gentlemen, there's evil afoot."
Aleppo strays from the path and begins to move along the border of the woods, sticking to the shadows. "When we get up there, I'll have a look to see if whatever did this is still around... and hope to spy some survivors."
Ruhk looks uncertainly at Aleppo, but after a moment he nods and unslings his axe and shield, trusting in the shorter man's nose.
"Right, good plan, don't go too far, if there are hostiles we don't want to get split up, and if they spot you, get back to us right away. No heroism."
Ruhks large callused hands squeeze the handle of his battleaxe, wishing that he could access the knowledge within and do what Danate did to him when they fought the bandits, it would have been helpful now.
Impetuous as he is, Ruhk does not even consider the fact that there might not be foes to kill now, and he relishes the thought of battle.
He glances over at Daen, wondering if he will get to take his measure in the fight to come as well. Arikor and Imzel have already proven themselves to him.
Aleppo clings to the shadows of the forest as he advances alongside the party, eventually signaling them to stay put along the road while he closes in.
As Aleppo not so much disappears into the shadows as seems to become one with them Ruhk growls. The little Sembian was good at the sneaks trade, there was no denying that, but Ruhk's blood was boiling now, and if there was battle up ahead he would not let anyone cheat him out of his fair share of it.
Right there and then he decides to not give Aleppo too much head start, he would delay as long as his nature allowed him to, but eventually he would follow, signal or no.
He glanced again at the others who remained with him.
"Be on guard, they may have scouts out as well...we may yet get to bloody our weapons and sing praise to Tempos."
Loading a sling as he advances Daen will comment. "I think we should keep advancing carefully i really don't like the idea of waiting this far back if there is a chance we could still save some folks."
The trail winds through woods, down into the valley towards Fort Oak, and as they draw near to the Fort, the smell goes from being merely unpleasant, to downright nauseating.
In the dark of the night the Swords are sure that the shadows move. Every now and then there will be a flit and flicker, something that moves just beyond the eye, but whenever one turns, its gone. Whenever trees are inspected, bushes prodded and trails searched for, the result is always the same. Nothing.
The wooden palisades of Fort Oak stand tall, but the Fort itself is an absolute horror. The ground is matted black with blood, the doors to the two buildings are ripped off, wagons and push carts are upturned and smashed and the livestock has all been slaughtered in their pens.
Worst of all are the burn pits. Normally used the hold bonfires and roasting fires for the trading post, the two large firepits are piled with human bodies, a half a dozen in each. Their skin melted and their bones charred. Neither pit is still aflame and the only light cast is from that of the corpses dying embers.
"This is... this is vile" Arikor mutters, at a loss for words. He takes a breath, steadying himself and then points to the eastern hut, "Imzel and I will investigate there, You three should check the other, or search the grounds."
Ruhk scowls, which is in itself no unusual for him, he cracks his knuckles and then starts walking onto the grounds, looking around as best as he can, wishing there were more light, again he can just about feel the knowledge needed to create it, but it slips away.
"It takes strength to do that to the doors and the carts, more than just one man can do..." Ruhk spits on the ground, trying to get rid of the foul taste the scene leaves in his mouth. Crouching low behind his shield he begins to search the grounds for survivors or treats, they might be hidden under the carts or in the shadows around the houses.
Knowing full well that darkness is no impediment to the drow, Aleppo maintains his stealth by sticking to cover as he moves from tree to tree and eventually to the outer palisade. Seeing the others approach despite his warnings to the contrary makes the Sembian roll his eyes in disappointment, but he remains hidden, watching for any signs of movement that aren't coming from his companions.
Taking his queue from Arikor, Daen will draw his sword and shield and slowly make his way to the other building. "I'm not sure that what caused this damage but it's hard to belive something so elf like could do that to the doors." He'll remark quietly as he enters the building looking for a lamp or something to light.
Outside the Fort...
On the outer edges of the palisade, Aleppo moves softly from tree to tree, until he stands on the edge of the forest line, hardly ten feet from the fort's borders. He peers through the darkness around him, trying in vain to get a sense of the shapes in the dark, but in the end there's too little light, and every branch that sways is a potential enemy, every owl that hoots a threat. So much so, that Aleppo almost doesn't notice the shadows grow above him. The Rogue's head snaps up just in time to see a horrid creature descending down upon him! With glowing red eyes, a squat and bloated frame, gangling limbs and a hideous grin of rotting but razor sharp teeth. The creature lunges down from the limb at Aleppo, its claws slashing furiously! Aleppo quickly leaps to the side to avoid the frenzied attack.
Within the grounds...
Ruhk moves slowly through the grounds, his inspection of the carts, while turning up no hidden attackers, does confirm what the party already fears. Whatever ripped these wagons to shreds was not human. Claw marks and hand indentations can be seen on shattered bits of wood.
Glancing up at the inner wall of the Fort's wall, Ruhk sees something in the glint of the moonlight. Writing scrawled along the wall in dark red.
Ghil ulnen l'Xsa'us, nind vesdrac plynnet wun l'kaas d'Nerethan
The language is one Ruhk doesn't understand, and he has little time to contemplate it, the faint sound of cutting air, and a barbed black shaft of an crossbow bolt slams into Ruhk's shield, inches from his face!
In the ruined building....
As he enters in to the squat hut, what was probably a dinning hall before it was ransacked, Daen immediately focuses on a faint light coming from the room's only other door.
"He..hello?" calls a faint sing song voice, and the light moves, shimmering and shifting as a figure comes out from that door.
Holding a candle, dificult to see is one of the most beautiful women Daen has ever seen. Her skin a pale peachy color. Her eyes, somehow keenly visible in the candle's flickering light, are a deep and rich blue. Her hair is full and cascades down her back and shoulders in waves of lustrous black. And then there's the fact that the woman's shapely full figure is covered by...nothing. She's not wearing a stitch of clothing. She looks at you with terrified eyes, "Who are you? Is... is it safe?
Ruhk reacts instinctively, taking cover behind his shield; he then beats his chest once and lets out a loud battle roar to alert the others.
"RUUUUUUS! Enemies are here! TEMPOS!" He then charges in the direction of the crossbow bolt, eager to take the battle to the cowardly backstabbers.
"I'm Daen of Torm don't worry i will protect you." Daen will remove his cloak and offer it to the woman as he continues "Here this will cover you until we can find you proper attire, are you hurt?"
The Sembian's reflexes do not fail him as he quickly avoids the attack and counters with a swift strike from his own blade. Squaring off against the monstrosity, Aleppo knows that there are likely other enemies nearby and so he immediately begins to plan his escape.