Chapter 12: Shadows in the Dark

[Jeff]

At Shorak's words, Histra indicates Belarin. "The bracers' power will not last as long as its wearer pleases. It will pass soon enough. Do not waste it now. Whatever course you decide, it is one of the tools at our disposal. Use it."

"The nycaloth is watching us even now, I am certain, though from far. Remaining here keeps us in sight." She turns her head around as if surveying the landscape. "We are crippled, but he is wounded and temporarily shaken. We may yet evade him in the cracks, wherever we go."

Histra addresses Streko. "You are wrong, d'Jorasco. You can rest in this realm, and grow strong again. It will not bar you from sleep. You would merely trade one battle for another." She looks grim as she regards Belarin. "It may not matter anymore," she says softly, and maybe to no one.

[Brian]

"We must move," says Condign. "We can discuss our options while we walk, as it will take time to reach the city. Be it rest or return, both choices lead there. If the nycaloth attacks, we will defend. That battle is out of our control." He reaches down and caresses the ever-present braid of hair with his thumb. "It is the other battle, our staying in this realm, that worries me." Condign looks at each of his friends. "Come, let us start for the city."

[Dave W.]

"Walk and talk; I think I can manage that... "

[Jeff]

Histra waits expectantly for a definitive choice or direction to be made. Which way is the party intending to move?

[Darren]

Kal spasms into a fit of coughing. Wiping his sleeve roughly across his mouth, he pushes away from Condign and hunches over his sharrash as he talks. "If there are ways out in Forgelight, surely there are ways out near where that light is. Right, Histra?" Kal turns to the Halfling. "Streko, I understand your concerns. We are going to rescue the sphinx on our terms, in our plane, but we need to know where she is, and right now we've only done the barest amount of narrowing. We need more information. We have to get closer." Kal coughs again as he spins to face Belarin. He goes temporarily light-headed and takes a moment to steady himself before looking angrily at the lich. "And you. You're not actually dead, yet, and no one put you in charge." Kal waves a hand at him. "Keep those things on for now, but if we rest, take the damn things off. Histra said this is a place of forgetting, and the longer you wear them, the more likely you are to forget who you are. I was just starting to like you. It would be a shame to have to kill you, but I won't let you 'live' like that forever." Kal tries to grin, but it turns into a grimace of pain, and he breaks into another coughing fit. "Let's move towards that light. We'll assess the plan as we go, but I'm sure we can find a defensible spot to rest," he holds up a hand to forestall protest, "IF we need to. And IF we do, we will set watches. Two at a time, and those on watch will tell stories of their past so they don't forget who they are, and in that way we will regain our strength." Kal looks out at the light. "We can't have come here for nothing. Syrdan cannot have given his life for nothing." Without looking back, Kal begins to walk towards the beacon of light.

[Jeff]

Histra watches Kal proceed down the slope toward the light, a ghost of a smile on her lovely but wayworn face. She looks to see if others will follow him.

[Joe]

Streko sighs, and then quietly follows behind his friend.

[Ken]

As Kalarian walks, Belarin fixes him with his unearthly gaze and says, "Bold words from the man who seems to be doing almost exactly what I said." He begins walking after Kalarian.

[Dave W.]

Adamant gently pats Condign on the shoulder, "Come, my friend, let's go see what the Light may be... I'm encouraged; in the texts of my faith, Light is always a good thing." The warfoged sets off following Kal.

[Brian]

Condign nods at Adamant's words and follows the group.

[Dave B.]

"Well, at least we have destination in mind." Shorak winces as he tries to flex his shoulder. He hasn't felt this bad in a long time. Wincing again as he shrugs, Shorak takes a quick look around before moving to follow behind Condign.

[Jeff]

Histra allows Kal to take the lead, as painful as his movements are, and then proceeds alongside Belarin. As the party heads down the slope toward the first “street” of rocky city-like formations, Kal realizes that he doesn’t really know the way. Fortunately, Shorak begins to see some recognizable shapes to the landscape ahead.

Histra turns to Shorak, “You know this city—even in this reflection—better than any of us. You will find not everything is the same, but we are less likely to be turned around with a Stormreach resident guiding us.”

[Dave B.]

Shorak nods. "I can't argue with that." He moves up to walk next to Kal. Surveying the terrain, Shorak points in the direction he deems most likely to get them to the light. "That way seems somewhat familiar. I believe that way will take us towards the light."

[Darren]

Kal moves slowly, hunched deep over his sharrash. He looks more like a wizened old mage than the young sorcerer he is. As Shorak moves next to him, Kal reaches a hand up to the drow's shoulder. His voice is halting and cracked as it tries to expel itself from Kal's dry throat. "Thank you, my friend." Spasming with another bought of coughing, Kal allows Shorak to take the lead.

[Jeff]

With Shorak in the lead, the group soon enough leaves the district of Respite, and hopefully this land's worst horrors, behind. The ground levels out before long, though the walls rise high, obscuring the horizon, while rock formations approximating buildings loom overhead and deny an expansive view on your surroundings. While you feel less exposed, you can't see beyond whatever street you're on. Though the land remains gloomy, it's nowhere near as dark as the oppressive black of the labyrinth.

Occasionally, you do see other people: figures short and tall wandering in the distance or even ambling up a rock. Histra quietly reminds the party not to engage in them. Whether they're living or dead, it's impossible to tell from this distance.

But you're making good time. Soon you reach what Shorak alone can clearly see is the Shadofell's version of Locksmith Square. Normally this area would be crowded with people. Here, it's mostly vacant, with only a few huddled figures along the fringe. But then the half-drow spots Eldred's Pool and is surprised to discover the old statue appears to exist, or is at least recreated, in this world.

Those of you who had not seen it before see that it is a circular fountain carved from a single piece of a very dark green stone. The outer rim rises two feet off the ground. At the center of the pool sits the object’s most unusual attraction: An abstract sculpture rising out of the basin, depicting two six-limbed, insectoid figures standing back to back. Each figure “balances” on one leg, the other crossed over the first, and the first of two pairs of arms meet in the center of each figure’s torso, palm flat against palm, as if in prayer. Each figure’s other pair of arms are raised skyward, palms to the sky, as if hefting a great weight, and each one’s head is a bulbous knot of shiny stone that seems bowed low, as if in supplication.

Almost lost against the spectacle of the pool, a hooded figure stands at the base of the statue, facing away from the group. Easily seven feet tall. Standing so very still.

[Brian]

Condign takes in the tall figure standing near the fountain. He has come to believe that chance meetings in this realm are not always conducive to a long life. Keeping an occasional eye on the stranger, the tiefling searches for the light they had seen earlier.

[Dave W.]

"Let's stay on mission; there is no reason to engage anyone here." Adamant says quietly. He keeps an eye out for trouble and tries not to focus on the figure... just in case that is meant as a distraction...

[Dave B.]

Shorak keeps one eye on the tall figure as he continues in the direction he believes will take them to the light they saw. He motions for everyone to follow, pacing himself to keep the group as close together as possible.

[Joe]

Streko walks close to Tangat now, keeping one hand on the mighty dog's back, absently rubbing and scratching at it. He ignores the statue and the alleged figure standing near it, but notices Shorak's brief reaction in the slight slowing of the party's movement. "Not much longer, my friend. Soon we will be free of this place and be able to lick our wounds without fear of attack and imminent death.

[Ken]

Belarin, still transformed, says little as the group moves into town. He pauses for a moment at the sight of the statue. "Charming," he says. "It may even have a function." He continues moving with the group, and his gaze drifts to the rooftops.

[Jeff]

Haralee and Ptolyn wa




And so you walk on, circumventing the fountain and statue. Though it appears the insectoid statue and walls of Eldred's Pool remain, the actual basin is dry. It contains no liquid here in Dolurrh. The seven-foot figure pivots and watches as you make your way past it. It never approaches or engages, but it's clear the figures is observing you.

Then it is behind you, as Shorak leads you across the square. Just outside an open threshhold at the base of one of the encircling buildings, where Shorak remembers there is a set of double-doors in Stormreach, you now see a cluster of skeletons...loitering. Some are standing still, a few others are moving a little bit but not actually going anywhere. They look un-controlled.

"The weaker undead," Histra says to Belarin, "you may be able to command outright in this state. But it is probably not worth stirring them up."

Near the far end of Locksmith Square, at the mouth of another street leading out, the half-drow realizes the shortest route to the Harbor is past his apartment, or what passes for that building in this world. Then he sees his building, or at least an irregular precipice of rock shaped much like it, though there is no giant statue head nestled behind it like in his home.

But then his eyes—all your eyes—are drawn toward the building. You've seen hints of light here and there while moving through the city, but there is a great deal of real firelight blazing from somewhere within this structure. Especially the third floor, where Shorak's apartment would be. No mere torchlight, it's as if there are numerous braziers within. The building is riddled with small cave-like holes instead of properly-shaped windows.

---

I don't recall which of you had been to Shorak's apartment and had been part of the battle there. I may have just been Belarin and Adamant with Shorak.

[Dave W.]

"Is that your building? Is it reflecting the burining there?" Adamant remembers the uncomfortable inferno.

---

Yes, as I recall it was Adamant and Belarin accompaning Shorak to his buiding.

[Ken]

"It WAS a cult of fire that was hunting you, Shorak," says Belarin with interest.

[Darren]

Kal also looks up at the fire. "Other travelers, like us? Histra, would any of the natural denizens of Dollurh ever need to light a fire?"

[Jeff]

"I am not familiar with all the natives of Dolurrh," Histra remarks, eyeing the firelight above with only some interest. "This world is not utterly dark. But I would guess that few natives would require light or heat to survive. Then again, survival itself does not mean the same thing here as it does in our world."

[Brian]

Condign tears his eyes away from the flames. His desire to leave this place has sadly diminshed his innate love of fire. "Continue, Shorak. The sooner we find where the sphinx's mate may be hidden, the sooner we can depart."

[Darren]

Sept 22, 2015 13:27:47 GMT -4 Brian said:

Condign tears his eyes away from the flames. His desire to leave this place has sadly diminshed his innate love of fire. "Continue, Shorak. The sooner we find where the sphinx's mate may be hidden, the sooner we can depart."

"I agree," says Kal. "We do not have the strength to satisfy curiosity. We've got to keep moving."

[Ken]

"Agreed," says Belarin. "Now is not the time ... although it does raise more questions about what that cult wanted with you, Shorak." He continues walking.

[Dave B.]

Shorak does not slow his pace, but for a brief moment, he looks at the shadow of his home and the firelight within with a little longing. No matter, this is not his home and what was his home is now a burnt out husk. "I'm not so sure it was me specifically they were after, or just that I happened to live in the building they chose to conduct their rituals." Shorak says to Belarin over his shoulder. He glances at the building one more time, then turns away and continues toward the harbor and the light.

[Jeff]

You press on, Shorak leading the way again. Figures skulk about the streets, usually at the edge of your vision or lurking out of some doorway, but none approach the group. Overhead, you can just make out that shining white light in the sky that you're working your way towards.

Soon enough, both Locksmith Square and Silverwall are behind you—Shorak notices that the mirror-like inner walls of the latter are anything but here—and you press into the Shadowfell's version of the Harbor. The first obvious difference is that there in no smell of fish. Normally the reek of the sea pervades the Harbor utterly.

When you're about two streets away from reaching the docks—from which you might be able to discern the light more clearly—you find a crowd of figures mostly blocking up your path in the middle of the street. Ragged and dark and appearing in various humanoid sizes, they seem to be gathered spirits with indistinct faces. They don't pay attention to you yet, but they do seem fixed on something else, for they're gathered in a staggered, horseshoe array. Between them, you glimpse other apparitions, even more indistinct...which seem to fade in and out rapidly as if under a blinking spell. Every now and then you glimpse a splash of red, though nothing more comes of it.

"A fight in our world," Histra observes. "Death is imminent for the combatants." She indicates the crowd. "They gather in anticipation for new spirits to enter Dolurrh."

One of the ragged spirits then takes notice of you. An old man in beggar's clothes steps away from the crowd, and walks, hunched, over toward Belarin. Bowing in supplication, he gives the rest of you a wary glance. "Aye! Master, master. Come for some sport, eh?" he says to Belarin. The man has a Stormreacher's street accent. You've all seen ghouls enough to recognize this man as such a creature. A long, slavering tongue flicks from his mouth as if tasting the air. He eyes Streko hungrily.