Chapter 7 (Survivor) - Revelations in the Dark
My weary steps echo through the narrow tunnels as we navigate our way out of the underground passage. The lingering scent of burnt mushrooms and the acrid stench of the hidden drug trade make the air heavy around me. My sword feels heavier, not from the fights we maintained, but from the knowledge that we were venturing deeper into a world fueled by greed and addiction. I can’t shake the unease that clings to me like the dampness of the cavern walls. Every step we take seems to echo the choices that led us here, a labyrinth of decisions that now threaten to enable us in a web of dangers.
Leaving the cottage behind as we continue, I overhear a hushed conversation between Navirah and Tiamus. Navirah’s voice, like a soothing melody, tries to calm the turbulence of Tiamus’s thoughts. He winces as she gently examines his eyes, the spores from the myconid still lingering in the corners. “Tiamus, it’s going to be alright,” she assured him, her voice as steady as a calm river. “We’ve faced worse challenges before, and we’ll get through this one as well.”
“I still don’t understand your affinity for these people.” He remarks, still frustrated and not at all regretful of those who may overhear his remarks.
“I get it, but they DID get us out of there safely, no one died, and we’re one step closer to being done here and you can get your money.”
“It’s not JUST about the money…. It’s also about keeping you safe.” I watch from a distance while we walk, a silent observer to their exchange which ends abruptly, Navirah’s pale face turning a light pink with a shy blush.
The dynamics within our group are still unfolding, each member finding their place in this motley assembly. I might actually be able to use their help to track down the Icebear dwarves if they could learn to work well together. As the day unfolds, we find ourselves in a small clearing on the side of the road. The sun casts dappled shadows through the trees, offering a momentary respite. Saemon immediately sets out his bedroll next to a log which he happily sits on and immerses himself in the ledger he found, taking his time to unravel its secrets. Peyt sets herself up on a moss covered rock, while the others find various spaces mostly to themselves and I start work on a fire for some semblance of warmth.
While I’m gathering twigs and sticks around the clearing, Lisle begins to stir from his unconscious state. The three rescued guards can’t resist the opportunity to taunt him in his consciousness, their resentment palpable. “Look who decided to wake up! Still think you can play the tough guy?” Jared, one of the guards, sneers, his eyes glinting with anger. Slim, another of the 3, adds “Maybe you should have kept a better eye on us Lisle, Now YOU’RE the one in chains.” His stoic nature keeps him level headed, focused on maintaining some ounce of dignity. He ignores the jeers for the most part which only stokes the fire of revenge from the guards. Jared balls his hand into a fist and looks like he’s about to blow at any moment. I feel the necessity to step in “Enough you three leave the crook alone. He’ll be easier to carry if you DON’T kill him.” The men, startled by my command, begin to settle down, and the party finds a moment of peace after the taunts. The rescued guards, though still angered at their former captor, start to let go of their feelings momentarily.
As the fire flickers on, the air grows tense, a quiet anticipation of the unknown. I sense a sudden disturbance in the stillness of the eve. The crackling of twigs and rustling leaves intensify, and abruptly our peace shatters once again. A cacophony of howls and giggles pierce the night, and a pack of rabid hyenas burst forth from the bushes surrounding our sight, the largest of which stands almost as tall as Tinkerer, following behind it nearly a dozen other smaller hyenas come into the clearing. The party quickly scrambles, preparing for the unexpected assault as fast as they can. The three guards swiftly stand -to. They branish the maces carried by the ruffians running the underground drug ring we dispatched earlier this day and form a protective barrier around the still-bound Lisle.
Four hyenas target Saemon, who stands on the outskirts of the clearing. They rush him from all different directions coming in at rather unexpected speeds. They bare their teeth and one even jumps to lunge at him but In a quick and calculated move, he responds. Reaching deep into his pocket he grabs out a handful of sand and blows it into the air. With a small incantation the dust settles on the hyenas who slump into a deep sleep. Taking advantage of the distraction, he makes a hasty retreat. I draw my shield and charge into the clearing to position myself as the focal point for the hyenas. I let loose a battle cry which echoes through the night as I prepare to face the onslaught. Recognizing the danger, I’m covered in a translucent barrier of gold and white, A shield of faith from navirah.
Tink grabs a handful of stones from the ground and infuses them with magical energies, which he hurls at a smaller hyena concealed in the underbrush. It finds its mark, instantly dispatching the hyena. Tiamus takes a strategic position on a large rock, drawing his bow to engage another target, but his arrow misses its mark. Peyt adds a mystical glow to the giant hyena with Faerie fire, making it easier for the party to keep track of. The hyenas, growing confident, begin surrounding the group, overwhelmed and out numbered. One targets Navirah, another lunges straight at me, with a quick step to the side I slice down on its neck decapitating it. The giant one enters the fray with a menacing cackle, gnashing its teeth against the air as it approaches me. I feel mildly overburdened but I stand strong, slashing another smaller hyena, while Navirah continues to use her Mind Sliver Spell to disorient the giant one.
Saemon, now free from the threat of sleeping hyenas, repositions himself and casts the same Burning hands we’ve seen before, eliminating the remaining sleeping predators. Resilient in the face of adversity, I fend off the relentless attacks. Tiamus switches to his daggers and joins the melee dealing swift blows to the hyenas. Peyt also contributes, spitting poison on one of the smaller hyenas, causing it to fall lifeless. The remaining hyena realizes her impending demise and starts to scatter. The giant one, the last survivor, tries to escape, but Tiamus and I, fueled by determination land powerful blows. As she attempts to flee, Saemon delivers a final Mind Sliver, and I hurl a hand axe straight into the back of its neck. Overwhelmed by pain, the giant hyena succumbs, collapsing in the clearing. We all start to catch our breath, the night returning to an uneasy calm masked by our quick breaths. The three buffoons, who noticeably did nothing while we fought for our lives, commend us for our tenacity and thank us for taking care of the pack while they ‘protect Lisle,’ I walk over and pull my handaxe free from the back of the large slumped over hyena marking the end of yet another unforeseen challenge in our journey. I can’t help but retort “At least we have dinner sorted.”
The tension from the battle begins to dissipate, and the clearing is filled with a mix of nervous laughter and sighs of relief. I seem to have earned a chuckle from the party, even Tiamus manages a slight grin. The shared laughter becomes a moment of respite, a brief interlude in the unpredictable journey we find ourselves on. Once the laughter subsides we turn back to our regular evening duties. Saemon, reimmersing himself in the leather-bound book, suddenly sits up with widened eyes. “I GOT IT!!” he exclaims. “Most of the entries are listed under an alias: ‘Goldielocks,’” A name which draws a puzzled look from the group, Are we supposed to know who that is? Saemon continues, “But here, before erasing it, they slipped up and wrote down our very own… drumroll please” No one moves, staring back with unconvinced and confused eyes so he finishes, “Goldbeard Misc.” We exchange a few quick glances, I can’t help but respond after a few seconds. “The general store manager? I knew he was a coward but I’m not sure he’s smart enough to be capable of THIS.”
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“Greed is a powerful motivator,” he responds.
Tiamus, with a sudden frustration to get this conversation over with, and intent in his eyes, strides purposefully over to Lisle. “You’ve been holding back on us fatman.” He’s portly but I wouldn’t say ‘fat’... His tone is extra sharp. Lisle, still bound and recovering from the earlier taunts, sneers defiantly “I don’t know what you’re talking about, horned toad.” But Tiamus is relentless. Driven by a mix of anger and determination, he glares at Lisle with an intensity that sends shivers down the captive’s spine. He pulls out a small, wicked-looking knife from his belt, its sharp blade glinting in the flickering light of the campfire. The menacing atmosphere in the clearing intensifies as Tiamus holds the knife, allowing the firelight to play on its surface, creating an unsettling dance of shadows.. “It’s rather obvious you’re going away for a long time regardless, so let’s make this simple,” He growls, circling Lisle with a predatory look. “You either start talking, or things are going to get very, very unpleasant for you.” As he speaks, he toys with his knife, twirling it skillfully between his fingers, the blade catching the glimmer of the fire with each spin. The rhythmic clinking of metal against metal on the rings adorning his hand punctures the air, each movement adding to the psychological pressure on Lisle.
Tiamus then grabs Lisle’s bound wrist with one hand, forcing it against the moss-covered rock where I saved him from the jeers of the guards moments ago. With a swift motion, he positions the knife close to Lisle’s hand, the cold steel barely grazing his skin. A malicious smile plays on Tiamus’s face, a silent promise of the torment to come. “Time’s ticking.” He starts to swing the blade back and forth like a pendulum above his fingers. Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock. His threat lingers in the air, the tension becomes palpable while the group watches, each member conflicted as much as myself by the necessity of the information and the uncomfortable methods being employed to extract it. But somehow I find myself trusting the tiefling. Though I would not trust his word or his actions to be truthful, I trust his intent to get paid, so I’m not so worried he will do anything to prevent that such as killing our prisoner.
Finally, with a winced face, Lisle blurts out what we’re looking for. “Philton Goldbeard is using the back room of the misc. to sell drugs in Evercast. Everyone thinks he lives there, but it’s just a second front for the town’s more delicate activities, most of his profit has been made there as of recently. He pays me to keep it quiet and deliver from my cottage which we’ve been using as a storage… Leave my fucking fingers alone.” Tiamus, satisfied with the revelation, steps back, sheathing his blade. Tinkerer asks “how long?”
“About a year or so now, he started off slow to make sure his plan was invisible to the law.”
Jared spits on the ground in front of Lisle “How well did that work out for you.” Lisle, defeated, doesn’t respond and the party is left with newfound knowledge that promises to unravel another layer of the drama. The air is thick with a mixture of triumph, and an unease as we each contemplate our next move. Under the flickering light of the campfire, we each find ourselves in various states of rest spread out among the clearing. I take a moment to take out my shield, which I have found some time to begin practicing my runes on. I’ve been able to get down most of the letters, but I check my work mulling over a book I got from my Mother to make sure they're accurate. My carving knife runs over the runes another time smooth as ever, this time a short glimmer of blue light flitters over the path my knife just carved. That’s new. I feel the power coursing through me as I run my fingers over the rune. Soon.
My focus is rudely broken, noticing Tinkerer approach with an earnest smile, he takes a seat across the fire from me. “Survivor, right?” What the hell are you doing, kid?? I nod while he begins striking up conversation, a jovial smile strung across his face. “It’s not exactly any secret. You’re a goliath. It’s not every day you meet ONE of us down here let alone two.” I grunt in acknowledgement, my gaze fixed on my work, studying ever so carefully throughout his unprecedented distraction. He continues none-the-less “I’ve always wondered about life beneath the peaks. What’s it like down here? Any interesting stories you’re willing to tell?” He’s persistent.
“It’s different. There’s more down here. Not necessarily more worth or meaning… just…. More. What exactly do you want to know?” I raise an eyebrow but maintain my stoicism.
Undeterred, he leans in, trying to show genuine interest. “Well, what’s something common here that we don’t get in the peaks?”
I smirk, finding amusement in his curiosity, my shield slides down my shin laying lightly against the log I sit on. “Down here, you’ll encounter bustling cities, diverse cultures, creatures you never dreamed of, and sometimes the ‘glory’ of being counted among them. It has its own… challenges.” my sarcasm is felt in the heart. Saemon and Peyt have joined nearby, and I can barely notice Tiamus and Navirah have gone quiet a decent distance away in order to listen in on the growing conversation. Tinkerer, absorbing the information, nods thoughtfully. “Cities huh? I’ve never been in a real city. What’s it like among sooo many people?”
I chuckle, “Crowded, noisy, smelly, and full of surprises. People down here have a way of complicating things, often without reason. No offense to Saemon though, on the contrary to the populace, you seem to have things pretty figured out.” I pause for a moment in realization. “Actually you have things figured out too much for a child. I think Tinkerer may benefit from hearing your take.”
He chuckles for a moment and I take advantage of the misdirection to continue working on my runes, this time a separate one labeled ‘Fire’ carved in the hilt of my sword.. Tinkerer almost jumps out of his chair turning towards the child. “Where are you from Saemon? Big city, small town? Underground fortress?” his excitement is electric, and if it shocks me, I’m throwing something, or someone.
“Little bit of A, little bit of B. I’ve lived in cities and farming hamlets. Unlike you hermitized goliath folk though, I rather enjoy the sights and smells of the city. The melting pot of ideas and personalities that city centers offer is invigorating. There’s always something new, and you never get bored.” He’s now closed the ledger which he has been studying all evening and lays back watching the flames dance in the fire with his feet up reminiscing on something I can’t glean. “That sounds fascinating and equally terrifying. Everyone must be so nice living so close together!”
Peyt takes the chance to ask “It must be sooo colorsfull”
A pause of silence comes over the camp as everyone stops what they are doing to make sure they heard them two other-worlders right, before the others burst out laughing. I jump in to ensure reality is maintained: “It’s incredibly dull Peyt, and almost everyone is insensibly rude, some even ruthless. It was rather disappointing when I myself found out.” their heads snap towards Saemon looking for denial of my statement. To which he only nods in agreement, which tanks their electric spirits. “Damn, that sounds terrible.” Tinkerer sighs, now defeated, he redirects his efforts to focusing on sleep. Peyt already lost interest and slumped herself between a rock and the warm fire. I take this as my own queue to head to sleep soon after, halfway completing the rune on my blade I decide it can be done another time. Memories of my mother’s power rush through my mind as I trail off to dreams of wielding it myself.