After what felt like an eternity of grief, Alex and Isobel descended the winding staircase back to the main hall, their footsteps slow and heavy. The weight of the truths Alex had revealed lingered between them like a cold shadow, but there was no room for further mourning now. They had to keep moving.
As they reached the bottom, a small smile tugged at the corner of Alex’s lips, a brief flicker of warmth amid the sorrow. His eyes landed on their companions gathered together, talking quietly, preparing to leave. Tav was smiling—just like when Alex had first met them, full of determination and hope, a grounding force for them all.
Everyone in the hall carried a satchel or bag slung over their backs. They didn’t look heavy; they didn’t need to be. Their journey to Baldur’s Gate shouldn't be long, but they were prepared for it. They’d reach the gnome village of Anga Vled for some much-needed rest and resume their journey. Not all of them shared the inhuman endurance of Alex, Karlach, or maybe Wyll. A break would be essential.
Aylin’s sharp eyes caught their return. Without hesitation, she rushed over to Isobel, her wings fluttering softly with concern.
“My love…” Aylin murmured, her voice tender as she gently cupped Isobel’s cheek, wiping a stray tear with her thumb.
Isobel offered a small, tired smile, though her eyes were still red and puffy. “I’m fine…” She paused, rubbing her eyes, clearly shaken. “Just a little bit… overwhelmed.”
Before Aylin could press further, a familiar and annoyed voice broke through the room, drawing their attention. “So, are we going or not?” Astarion’s arms were crossed, his eyes glinting with frustration as he glanced toward the door. “The sun is about to come up, and I’d rather avoid a migraine if possible.”
The vampire spawn’s words weren’t without merit. While the sun wouldn’t kill him anymore, it still caused him discomfort. Alex couldn’t help but smirk at his dramatic impatience.
“I’m sorry,” Isobel interrupted, her voice soft but resolute. “But I would like to stay here a little longer.”
At that moment, the undead hound, came bounding toward her from seemingly nowhere. The skeletal creature nuzzled against her robes, and despite his macabre appearance, his affection was undeniable.
Isobel knelt down and gently stroked the top of his bony head. “I’m fine, Squire,” she whispered, her fingers lingering on his skull. “I will be fine.”
The moment was bittersweet. Alex watched the tenderness in her movements, the way she still cherished this creature who had died trying to protect her.
“That’s your dog?” Karlach’s voice was quiet, a mix of surprise and sympathy.
Isobel nodded, her expression distant as memories tugged at her heart. “Squire wasn’t always like this,” she said, her voice filled with quiet sadness. “He died when he tried to save me.”
“I’m sorry,” Karlach said . “I didn’t mean to bring up old wounds.”
“It’s fine,” Isobel replied, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she looked down at Squire, the memory of his loyalty filling her heart. "He’s still here with me. That’s what matters.”
Alex cleared his throat, sensing the moment was nearing its end. "We’ll see you soon," he said, his voice calm but carrying a promise. Isobel looked at him, her eyes filled with gratitude, though her heart still seemed heavy with the weight of everything they had just uncovered.
As Alex and the rest of the party turned to leave, they made their way out of the tower, the cold morning air biting against their skin. At the stone bridge that led away from the fortress, they found Bullet waiting for them—a sight that instantly brought a bit of light to the somber atmosphere.
The landshark—a creature of thick, scaly hide and surprising gentleness—stood there, purring deeply as Shadowheart gently patted his side.
“Is he coming with us?” Shadowheart asked, her eyebrows raised as she looked at Alex, still petting the large beast.
Alex nodded, a grin forming. “He said he wanted to travel with us,” he explained. “And we can ride him if we get tired of walking.”
Before anyone could respond, Glut, the small myconid companion, walked up to Bullet, inspecting him for a moment before casually climbing up onto his back. He settled himself comfortably, his tiny form almost comically out of place on top of the massive creature.
“I have short legs,” Glut said simply, his voice monotone as usual.
The sight of Glut, small and stoic, sitting atop the giant landshark was so absurd that it drew chuckles from nearly everyone in the group. Even Astarion cracked a reluctant smile at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.
Bullet let out a low, rumbling purr as Shadowheart stepped forward, a bit hesitantly. “Can I ride you too, Bullet?” she asked.
The landshark gave a slow, deliberate nod and sat down to make it easier for her to climb up. Shadowheart carefully mounted behind Glut.
With that, the group began their march toward Baldur’s Gate, their laughter mingling with the dawn breeze. Despite the heaviness that lingered from their time at the fortress, there was a lightness in their steps.
______________
Alex stood firm, watching the approaching gnomes cautiously. The rest of the party held their positions, hands resting near their weapons but showing no signs of aggression. Alex’s mind flickered with awareness of the presence beyond their sight—lurking minds at the edge of his radar, likely more gnomes hiding among the trees. But these minds scattered quickly, perhaps scared by Bullet’s intimidating bulk.
The gnomes in front of them were clearly on edge, their spears raised, glinting in the fading light. Behind them, the ring-shaped forts stood, crude yet sturdy, earthen defenses against the many dangers of the plains. They were nearing Anga Vled.
“Halt!” the foremost gnome barked, his voice small but fierce. His eyes darted from one party member to the next, taking in their weapons, their armor, and the monstrous landshark standing beside them. The rest of his comrades mirrored his stance, their spears leveled at the group.
Alex raised his hand in a gesture of peace. “We’re just travelers. We only seek a place to rest. We’re heading to Baldur’s Gate,” he said calmly, his voice steady but firm, trying to deescalate the situation.
The gnome leader, whose name Alex would soon learn was Dorros, leaned in suspiciously, his expression hard. “My friend, I’d turn away from Baldur’s Gate if I were you. Yesterday, a massive army of goblins, ogres, bugbears... and even drow was seen marching toward the city.”
The party exchanged tense glances at the news, but Dorros wasn’t done. He stepped forward, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “And worse, they had an Elder Brain with them.”
“That’s bad,” Alex said, nodding.
“Real bad,” Dorros echoed with a nod, seeming relieved that Alex understood the gravity of the situation.
“But did you know,” Alex continued, straightening up, “a dragon wiped out that army before they could even reach Baldur’s Gate?”
The gnome's brow furrowed deeply, his face darkening with confusion. “A dragon? Shit,” he muttered under his breath, clearly struggling to process the news.
But before the conversation could go any further, another gnome stepped forward from Dorros’ side, his voice sharp and accusatory. “Dorros, don’t listen to him. They came from the west. From the cursed lands.”
Dorros' posture stiffened, and he took a cautious step back, his eyes narrowing as suspicion crept into his expression. “You’re not welcome here,” he said coldly, his voice edged with distrust. “Leave.”
Before Alex could respond, the sound of rustling leaves from the right drew their attention. From a nearby bush, a female gnome emerged, her eyes fixated on Alex and his companions. She didn’t appear hostile, but there was a calculating gleam in her gaze.
“Lilimila? What are you doing out here?” Dorros asked, his voice filled with both confusion and a hint of irritation.
Lilimila didn’t respond immediately, her gaze unwavering as she studied the party. Her eyes lingered on Wyll, who stood at Alex’s side, his horns gleaming faintly in the dying light.
“You’re adventurers, aren’t you?” she finally asked, her voice steady but curious.
“Yes,” Alex replied. “And we even have the Blade of Frontiers with us,” he added, gesturing toward Wyll with a slight smirk.
Lilimila’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Wyll more closely now. “He looks a lot like him,” she said slowly, “but the Blade of Frontiers didn’t have horns.”
Wyll shifted uncomfortably . He wasn’t as bothered by his new appearance anymore—Karlach had made it clear she liked his horns, often running her fingers over them with an affection that always made him feel more at ease. But still, there was something that gnawed at him. He had spent his life as the Blade of Frontiers, a hero known for hunting down evil creatures—devils, demons, monsters of the dark. Now, he looked like the very thing he had once sworn to destroy. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
Without a word, Alex raised his hand, and a soft silvery light poured from his palm, washing over Wyll in a comforting glow. It felt like moonlight, gentle but powerful, casting away the shadows that clung to his thoughts.
"Ask him anything," Alex said, his voice carrying a certain calm authority, the kind that soothed even the most chaotic minds. "He’ll respond truthfully."
Lilimila crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on Wyll with renewed scrutiny. “Are you really the Blade of Frontiers?” she asked, her tone direct and challenging. “And why do you look like this?”
Wyll grimaced but couldn’t resist the compulsion of Alex’s spell. He sighed, the truth forced from his lips despite his reluctance. “I was cursed by a devil for not following her orders.”
The honesty in his voice hung in the air like a weight, and even the gnomes seemed to feel the gravity of his words. Lilimila’s gaze softened slightly, but Dorros remained unconvinced.
“What if this is all a farce?” Dorros muttered, suspicion dripping from every word. “What if you’re just trying to trick us into letting you into the village?”
Alex raised an eyebrow, sensing the gnome’s stubborn distrust. He waved his hand again, casting the same spell on Lilimila, her face immediately betraying a flicker of surprise.
“Go on,” Alex said, his voice steady but challenging.
Dorros grinned suddenly, eyes gleaming mischievously. “Alright, Lilimila, answer me this—did you eat my carrot cake yesterday?”
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Lilimila’s eyes widened, and she slapped her hand over her mouth, clearly fighting the urge to speak, but the spell was too strong. With a frustrated groan, she burst out, “Yes! And it was so good!”
Dorros’ face twisted in outrage. “You told me it had been Valni! Wait until your mother hears about this!”
Lilimila groaned, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Shit. I should have stayed hidden…”
Despite the tension, a ripple of laughter spread through the group at the absurdity of the situation. Even Bullet let out a low, rumbling purr, seemingly amused by the gnomes’ bickering.
Dorros, still scowling at Lilimila, finally sighed and turned back to Alex. “Fine. You can come into the village. But only because we have a problem, and we could use the help of adventurers like you. I’ll explain everything once you’re inside.”
Alex exchanged a glance with Wyll , showing him a thumbs up ,and the others before nodding. “We’ll help. Lead the way.”
With that, Dorros gestured for them to follow, his demeanor still cautious but no longer hostile. The group began walking toward Anga Vled, the gnomes’ earthy forts visible in the distance, but the weight of whatever was troubling the village lingered in the air like a storm cloud waiting to break.
___________________________
As the party set foot into the gnome village of Anga Vled, they were greeted by a sight unlike any they'd encountered before. The village was carved directly into the towering cliffs, with homes and workshops seamlessly integrated into the rock face. Above them, sheer walls of white stone stretched high, dotted with lush patches of greenery that clung to the mountainside. Waterfalls cascaded from the heights, weaving through the village, their steady roar providing a calming yet powerful backdrop.
Suspended walkways of wood and rope crisscrossed the air, connecting the various levels of the village like a web. Below, a vast, crystalline lagoon of water shimmered, its surface reflecting the towering cliffs and the structures perched above. Intricate cranes and wooden lifts hung over the water, suggesting a village reliant on both the river and the natural resources of the surrounding rock.
Gnomes moved about, some working on the platforms while others walked along the elevated paths, carrying out their daily tasks. Many stopped to glance curiously at the adventurers, their small eyes filled with a mix of wariness and wonder. Though their tools and weapons were simple, there was a quiet industriousness to the way they moved. The village, despite its rustic appearance, had the sense of being carefully engineered—every pathway, every mechanism, working in harmony with the landscape.
At the center of the village, larger structures rose, built around powerful water wheels that churned slowly, likely powering the lifts and cranes dotting the cliffs. The air was fresh but cool, with the scent of wet stone, earth, and the faintest hint of wood smoke lingering in the air.
The sheer magnitude of the place—its perfect integration with nature—was breathtaking. As the party stood, taking it all in, they could feel the eyes of the villagers on them, watching cautiously but with interest.
________________________________
"I knew, very stunning," Dorros said, snapping them back to reality as the awe of the village settled in their minds. "I’ll show you around, but first, we’ve got to speak with Orssa." His eyes shifted to Bullet. "But... I think it’s best if the land shark remains behind. It’s just too big for the narrow streets."
Alex turned to Bullet. "You heard him, Bullet," Alex said, his voice soft, almost apologetic.
The massive creature’s reaction was immediate. Bullet’s small, expressive eyes drooped, his massive head lowering as a whimper escaped from his throat. His hulking form shifted slightly, almost like he was trying to make himself smaller, as if hoping that would change the decision. His usually friendly demeanor was gone, replaced by a sadness that tugged at Alex’s heart.
Glut and Shadowheart, who had been riding atop Bullet, dismounted carefully. Bullet, who had carried them tirelessly, was now being asked to stay behind, and the sadness in his eyes was almost unbearable.
Alex knelt beside Bullet, resting a hand on the creature’s rough hide, his fingers tracing the familiar grooves of its armored skin. "I’m sorry," Alex murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll be back soon, I promise."
Bullet let out a low rumble, a sound that was both resigned and sorrowful. His massive body shifted to the side of the road, where he plopped down heavily with a thud, dust rising around him as he settled onto the ground. His eyes, usually alert and fierce, now followed Alex with a quiet longing, as if pleading to come along.
Shadowheart knelt beside Bullet for a moment, placing her hand gently on his snout. "Don’t worry, we won’t be long," she said softly, her voice filled with sympathy. Bullet blinked slowly in response, his tail twitching once before curling around his body like a protective barrier.
Dorros guided them through the winding streets until they reached their destination—a modest, unassuming house set against a stone wall. It looked nearly identical to the others around it, simple and functional. At the top of the door, a worn plaque read "Mayor".
"Sorry about the height, but this place wasn’t built for tall folks like her," Dorros remarked, glancing at Karlach with a chuckle.
Karlach smiled, unfazed. "No problem, I can wait outside. Wyll, do you want to stay with me?"
Wyll returned her smile with a faint one of his own. "Of course, my love."
With a nod, the rest of the party stepped inside, Alex leading the way. The room was modest, the kind of simple interior one would expect in a rural home. A wooden desk sat tucked in the far corner, neatly organized with papers and a few worn books. The soft light filtering through the window illuminated the dust motes swirling in the air, giving the room a quiet, still feeling.
A creak echoed from a door to the left, and it slowly swung open. A woman stepped out, her footsteps soft but purposeful. She bore a striking resemblance to Lilimila, though older and more worn by the years. Her hair, streaked with silver, was tied back tightly, and her sharp eyes swept across the room, studying each of the party members with an unflinching, assessing gaze before settling on Dorros, who stood at the forefront.
"Hello, Orssa. Sorry to disturb you, but I brought a group of adventurers," Dorros said, gesturing to Alex and the others. "They’ve offered to help with our current troubles. I figured you could explain the situation to them better than I could. Oh, and that one," he pointed to Alex with a hopeful grin, "is a cleric. He might be able to heal Jarek."
Orssa’s sharp gaze fixed on Alex for a moment, as if peeling back layers of his very soul. Her eyes were piercing, more so than before, holding a weight of both authority and expectation.
But before she could respond, Dorros shifted nervously and added, "Oh, and—Lilimila was the one who ate my carrot cake, not Valni."
At the mention of her name, Orssa’s brow furrowed as she turned to face her daughter, who had been standing quietly to the side of the party, trying her best to avoid notice.
"Lilimila," Orssa’s voice was low but stern as her eyes locked onto her daughter. "Why did you lie to your father? For gods' sake, you’re not a child anymore. You’re a woman. I swear, Valni shows more maturity than you sometimes."
Lilimila sighed, casting her gaze to the floor, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her mother’s words. She didn’t argue, just stood there, the guilt clear on her face.
Before the tension could deepen, the door from which Orssa had emerged burst open with a clatter, and a small figure dashed into the room. It was a small gnome girl, her dark curls bouncing wildly as she sprinted toward Lilimila, her eyes wide with concern and relief. She crashed into her, wrapping her arms tightly around Lilimila waist in a fierce hug.
"Lilimila!" The little girl said her voice a mix of happiness and a bit of sadness . "I was so worried!"
"Valni, don’t be like that," Lilimila murmured, her voice gentle.
Lilimila, taken aback by the sudden embrace, blinked in surprise but quickly softened into the hug, her arms instinctively wrapping protectively around the little girl. She knelt down to Valni’s height, cradling her close as Valni buried her face into Lilimila’s shoulder. The younger girl’s small body trembled slightly, and Lilimila could feel the tension in her sister’s grip, the unspoken fear lingering in the way Valni clung to her.
"I was just helping dad with his patrol, checking for any threats. I promise, everything’s okay."
Valni hesitated, then pulled back just enough to look up into her sister’s eyes, her own shining with unshed tears that threatened to spill over. Her voice was small and trembling, full of the innocent fear only a child could know. "You’re not leaving again, are you? Please… don’t leave."
The weight of those words hit Lilimila hard. She could see the fear etched in her sister’s gaze, and it tugged at her heartstrings. Smiling softly, she brushed a stray curl from Valni’s face, her fingers gentle. "No, I’m not going anywhere," she reassured her, her smile growing more playful as a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "At least for now," she added teasingly, trying to lighten the moment.
Valni’s face fell just a little more, her worry deepening, but before she could say anything, her attention was drawn to something unusual. A delicate, ethereal purple flower drifted down from above, twirling in the air like a wisp of magic, and softly landed on her head. Valni’s expression shifted from sadness to awe as her small fingers reached up, gently plucking the flower from her hair. She inspected it with wide, curious eyes, her wonder palpable.
"Wow… this is so beautiful," Valni whispered, her voice filled with breathless amazement. She looked over at the party, her gaze settling on the albino half-dragon standing nearby. He winked at her, a warm smile spreading across his face.
"Mommy, can I go thank Mister Dragon for the flower?" Valni asked, her excitement barely contained as she held the delicate bloom in her hand.
Orssa, watching the exchange, smiled softly. "Sure, sweetie. Go ahead."
Valni’s face lit up with joy as she walked over to Tav, her steps small but purposeful. She stopped just before him, holding up the purple flower like a treasured gift. "Thank you for the flower," she said shyly, her voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and admiration.
"You’re very welcome," Tav replied, his voice gentle as he smiled down at her. With a flick of his fingers, small flowers appeared around her, swirling and dancing in the air like fireflies, casting a soft glow that made Valni giggle in delight.
For a moment, the room felt lighter, the joy of the child lifting the spirits of everyone present. Valni’s laughter was a balm, soothing the tension that had been lingering in the air, if only for a brief moment.
After a few moments, Orssa walked over to her youngest daughter, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "Sweetie, why don’t you go to your room for a while? I have something to discuss with our guests. You can play later, alright?"
Valni, still clutching the flower, nodded obediently. "Okay, Mommy. Bye!" she chirped, waving to everyone before scampering off through the door from which she had come.
"Lilimila, go with her," Orssa instructed, her tone firm but not unkind.
Lilimila opened her mouth to protest, but her mother cut her off before she could speak.
"And you’d better start preparing the ingredients for your father’s carrot cake while you’re at it," Orssa added, a hint of humor in her voice. "I think you owe him."
Lilimila sighed but smiled, knowing better than to argue. "Yes, Mother," she replied, and with a glance toward her little sister, she followed Valni out of the room.
As the door closed behind them, the soft sounds of their footsteps faded, leaving a quiet stillness in the air. The room seemed to shift back into a more serious tone, the warmth of Valni’s innocence now a distant echo as Orssa turned to the rest of the group.
"Please, sit," she said, her voice quieter but carrying the weight of authority. "Would you like some tea? Or perhaps..."—she glanced at a dusty bottle on a nearby shelf—"a bit of parsnip wine? It’s strong, but it’ll calm the nerves."
The group exchanged looks. Alex gave a nod and replied, "Tea will be fine, thank you."
Orssa poured them each a cup of tea, the fragrant steam curling into the air.
"Hm, this tea is delicious . Thanks you . " Gale said with charming smile after he took a small sip.
When they had settled with their cups, she took a deep breath and began.
"Strange things have been happening around here lately. At first, we thought it was just a streak of bad luck—items misplaced, doors left open when we knew we’d locked them... but it’s become more than that. Things are going missing outright. Objects are being moved around when no one is near. And then..." She hesitated, glancing down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "There have been accidents."
Alex leaned forward, his voice filled with concern. "What kind of accidents?"
Orssa’s lips pressed into a thin line as she met Alex's eyes. "Injuries, people falling when they shouldn’t have. One of our farmers, old Jarek, broke his leg. He swore something pushed him—something he couldn’t see. Then there’s been the livestock. Found dead. No signs of a struggle, just... gone."
The weight of her words hung heavily in the room. The party shared uneasy glances. Alex shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming on the edge of his cup.
"The animals we’ve found... it’s like their life was just drained from them. No blood, no wounds. Just... empty shells." Orssa continued.
Shadowheart frowned, her brow furrowed in thought. "Have you seen anything strange? Any signs of dark magic or... something worse?"
Orssa’s gaze darkened. "No... nothing concrete. But there’s been whispers. Some of the villagers say they’ve seen shadows moving at the edge of the forest—things that don’t belong. One woman, old Hela, claims she saw a figure standing at the foot of her bed in the middle of the night. Tall, hooded, silent. By the time she blinked, it was gone. The next morning, her son vanished."
The firelight flickered as if in response, casting long shadows across the room. The party sat in silence for a moment, each person processing the gravity of what Orssa had just said. Alex’s mind raced through possible explanations.
Dorros, who had been silent, finally spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "I’ve known this village all my life. I’ve never seen anything like this. We’ve always had the forest at our backs, but it’s like... something’s watching us now. It’s making the villagers scared to even step outside after dark."
The room grew colder, the tea in their hands no longer offering comfort. Alex leaned forward, his voice steady but filled with resolve. "We’ll help. We’ll look into this and find what’s causing it."
Astarion opened his mouth to say something , but stopped . 'Let's not try be an arsehole , at least this time . ' He thought.
Orssa’s eyes met his, filled with relief and weariness. "Thank you. We don’t know what we’re up against, but whatever it is... it’s not natural. And it’s only getting worse."
Her hands were resting on the table as she looked out the small window toward the sky. "There’s one more thing..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes, at night, you can hear... singing. A woman’s voice, soft but... wrong. It’s coming from the forest."