Chapter I, Part 5

General Summary

An Ominous Sign of the Bright Spear

88-89th of Spring, 117 YA


For the second day in a row, the Companions weaved their way around, up and down through the hills east of Dyramar Keep as they sought to return to Tower that had so disturbed them. Brother Prospit was a rare source of energy and drove all of the group faster whenever they paused to observe the hills or other features. The cleric had grown even more concerned about the presence of a Nameless Ones cult dedicated to an Elderwrath on the very borders of the kingdom! He chivvied at them even when they had stopped for lunch the day before but the pace was no one’s fault as they had decided to make haste their boon companion. Even so, the trip had begun auspiciously with the faint boom of distant thunder and clouds gathering just within sight on the horizon.

By cutting east directly through the hills where Dyramar lay nestled, the notion was that they would arrive at the Tower without chancing any encounters with more brigands or be seen advancing on the stone structure from the flat exposure of the Scrub Plains that had been their route in their previous expedition. Despite being a straight line, all of them knew that they risked a number of dangers in the Border Hills. The presence of the Keep had done little to flush out the foulness that hid between the cracks in the earth and, given the manpower situation, few sorties or patrols were mustered in the Hills.

The morning of the 89th had dawned cloudy with a wind that set Geller’s whiskers to twitching as he could feel a blow coming in the future. He watched the clouds and the fauna around them for some time in the morning but could only get a feeling that a spring blow was coming but it could be any day now. He was fairly certain that they had until the sun went down and so they hurried off again. With Edlin and Geller in the lead, Prospit and Grimbould hucked their packs and swiveled their eyes to either side but could only worry about a threat from the rear. Even so, they could all feel it within the hour, the hills had grown quieter and the wildlife seemed to be securing shelter and last meals instead of streaking through the undergrowth.

As they crested a low dip in a line of hills, Geller stopped the group and strained his eyes to recapture what he had seen. Edlin joined him and finally pointed out a flicker of color about a half-mile away. Soon all of them could see it, some patch of color snagged on the branches of a shrub. Unfortunately, it was southeast of their route but it was quickly agreed to investigate it further. After all, Prospit reminded them, it could be signs of that witch’s flight. The thought of catching up to the self-mutilated woman made Grimbould pump his legs even faster. Though the Elderwraths were dire legends amongst his people, the notion that mortal humans would accept their corruption and risk existence itself shocked him silent. Yet another weakness of the manflesh, he grumbled to himself as they turned southeast towards the fluttering color.

It was not the witch but they all wished it had been anything but what they found: a tattered remnant of the Bright Spear Company's standard. The colors were faded, stained with mud and, Grimbould confirmed with a sniff, blood. It was not fresh but dried into the ragged cloth. The standard of the Company had last been seen parading out of the Keep to the admiration of all who dwelled and defended it. All of them realized the blow to morale that such a revelation would bring to the residents of Dyramar. The cloth was gathered and folded respectfully by Brother Prospit as he prayed to the Virtues to bring luck, life or at least peace to the Company.

With heavier footsteps they turned back towards the north and moved towards the Tower in the distance. As they walked, the questions began to form and spark up between them. They had met the Company that morning not long ago and though they were brash and confident, it was clear from their conversations with other soldiers and Essara that the Company had earned the respect of the people several times over. Before the four of them had arrived at Dyramar Keep, the Bright Spears had been the only company that had successfully carried out multiple expeditions beyond the borders of Auredain and Dyramar.

But other than that, they realized, there was scant hard facts that they knew of the Company. Grimbould was able to describe a few of them as they had been spent the night before their departure drinking in the common room. The leader was a human, the wielder of the Bright Spear itself, which the collected confidence of the Dyramar folk knew to be enchanted in some fashion. Edlin had even heard directly from someone who had seen the coverings on the spearhead removed and how it blazed with a light all of its own. Without thinking, Grimbould started to suggest that finding the Brightspear may be to their benefit but he bit back the conclusion of his musings. Even as he caught himself, he noticed Edlin giving him an exasperated look.

They and the Bright SpearCompany were one and the same, Geller indicated, the only folks capable of heading out into the unknown and facing the dangers that hid there. Without us, he mused, the people in Auredain would have no knowledge of any dangers headed their way. Hearing the duergar snort, Geller simply pointed out that no one knew there was an Elderwrath cult on their very doorstep until they had shown it to be so… The duergar nodded and acknowledged the point but that did not mean that the Bright Spears and them were alike. Edlin even laughed and pointed out that the Company was well-off in the finances while they were still eating trail rations and worrying about rent on a warehouse shelf! There was some laughter but it led to more questions… Just who were the Bright Spears?

Since the Company was the favorite topic for gossip and tale-telling, they had each heard something of them but they realized it never boiled down to anything specific. The Company had certainly brought back ears aplenty for the bounties posted by Dyramar. They had even bragged openly about several ruined sites that they had discovered and cleansed; returning home with silver and stories. But as Edlin put everything together, it did not amount to much more than gossip. Well, noted the cleric, that’s what happens when we ignore our fellows in search of our own goals. That weak sermon brought a bit of laughter to everyone and the smiles lasted until Geller warned everyone to stillness.

They were close now. The Old Raven Tower was only two miles of hills away…

Rubble & A Storm

89th-1st of Spring, 117 YA

  The four Companions made quick discussion now that their goal was within reach. This time, the cultists knew of them and it would be best to Geller and Edlin slipped up to the top of the neighboring ridge and worked their way from behind its bulk to the highest hilltop in order to get a birds eye view of the tower and its surroundings. About halfway down the hillside, Grimbould and Prospit moved slower but along the same path. The manlings were rather squishy, Grimbould had noted since coming to the surface, but they could certainly be light on their feet when need called such as now. Prospit whispered to him and pointed for their two companions had reached the crest and inched over it on their bellies. They lay there still for less than a minute but Prospit could see that there was an animated discussion that did not fill him with confidence. He and the duergar cleared the final distance and sank to their hands and knees, inching forward to join their companions. As they did so, Geller turned to look at them a face full of confusion and shock. Prospit scurried quickly up the last few feet and felt the breath get sucked right out of his chest.

They had planned their observation point well. The hillside fell down from the crest into a low gully before rising again in small mounds that eventually culminated in a slope that laid the way to the Old Raven Tower.

But it was gone. Only rubble remained.

While their nerves may have been urging them to scream in frustration, fear or anything they could do nothing but stare at the hillock that had formed the foundation of the Old Raven Tower since before their births. The entire hilltop was covered in shattered stone and earth. There was nothing but a great rubble pile where once had been the tower. Edlin caught all of his companions attention with a wave. He beckoned all of them back behind the hilltop crest so they could converse without difficulty. Once there, Prospit’s rage began to grow as he contemplated this final obstacle to his aims. He sucked in a breath but Edlin’s cool hand on his arm stopped him.

The mage was taken aback at the sheer level of destruction. Where five days earlier had been the tower shell that had stood for several centuries and the entrance to the complex beneath it, there was nothing but crushed earth. He shook his head and tried to calculate the amount of power it would take to cause that much damage. His friends did not seem to understand although Prospit seemed to be coming around now that he had calmed himself. They spoke quickly and Edlin simply could not answer his companions questions about the destruction… and Edlin really liked destruction. It was his thing. But even he was awed at power that could tear the stones out from under the earth and drag them around, destroying everything nearby, like a child with a stick.

Elemental, asked Prospit. The mage shrugged. He could not feel any emanations from this far away and given the weathering on the stones it was likely the destruction had occurred shortly after their departure. An Elemental could certainly have done it, he admitted, but that by itself was terrifying to consider. They had prepared to go after a lone witch and perhaps some more of those orc-blooded thugs of hers but this was something beyond them. Both Prospit and Edlin had received no awareness of the witch’s power being so deep when they had fought with her in the corrupted chapel. The magics she had utilized were nothing on this scale. They simply had no answers to so many questions.

As they considered their options, it was clear that a closer look was needed. They moved slowly along the ridge casting an eye over the destruction from several angles. There was no hint of even a foundation stone. The entrance to the complex was buried beneath an entire hill’s worth of rubble. Finally realizing the need to get closer they decided to head closer.

Unfortunately, Nature had other plans. As if in response to their own frustrations, the pressure that Geller had felt two days before seemed to wash over them with an air cold enough to have come from the north. The wind did not ease but increased with each step they took towards a closer look until Geller stopped everyone and pointed to the swirling inky clouds soaring towards them from across the Scrub Plains.

Prospit swore an uncharacteristic oath but Geller knew his craft and even the cleric had to admit that standing out in the open during whatever was coming down on them would likely be unpleasant. The four of them quickly discussed finding a place to camp but Geller shot all their ideas down. The storm was coming too fast and it looked heavy with moisture. Any campsite below the ridgeline would likely be washed out by the storm. While the notion seemed appealing, the Companions had no tents or anything heavier than a bedroll to shield them from the storm. And, right now it seemed, to everyone, that Geller’s dire predictions were coming true. The ranger bade them keep their eyes open while he shot off into the growing gloom.

The crash of thunder and a bright flash shook the three of them as it seemed as if the sky simply opened up right above them. Before the first peal faded, another cracked and shook the hills in a final statement of what was to come. And then it did, the wind’s intensity rose and the air temperature dropped quickly and then they were slammed by a wall of rain that seemed almost solid. The three of them quickly retreated further down the slope but Grimbould’s sharp eyes caught Geller’s frantic attempts to get their attention a hill ridge away.

The race to their friend’s side was a painful combination of sliding down flooding earth slopes and fending off the driving rain that actually stung the skin with its intensity. The three of them slipped, tripped and dragged themselves over to Geller’s position and the ranger gestured into a small sharp crevice in the hillside. For a moment, they thought he was mad as it would surely flood but the ranger slid down into it and pointed out that the crevice was sloped and would take most of the water downhill. With rock walls and an overhang that was only a few fingers worth of rain cover, the other three dropped into the crevasse and drew their cloaks around them. Geller had to shout over the howling wind racing through their shelter but they saw he was correct. The water was rushing through the middle of the angled floor and forming a small torrent that emptied out their shelter as quickly as the rain came in. The four of them drew cloaks about their faces and exposed skin and hunkered as close to the walls as possible. The rain was still sheeting on them but at least it could only drop a couple feet width at them at a time.

With oaths unheard in the driving wind and rain, the four of them hunched over the few dry spots in their clothing and realized that it was going to be a very long, very wet, very cold night.

With sleep far away, Brother Prospit spent the night planning his purchase of a very cozy tent of water-treated heavy canvas...


Cover image: Storm by Anastasiia Pryiemska

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