Alex closed his eyes briefly, gathering his thoughts. The weight of the villagers’ troubles pressed on him. What could be causing all of this?

"I assure you, we can pay you if you resolve these problems," Orssa said, her voice a mix of hope and hesitation.

Alex opened his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "It's not about the payment." He understood their desperation, knew they believed adventurers craved gold above all else.

"Speak for yourself," Astarion chimed in from the side. "What? We’re headed to Baldur’s Gate, and I’d like to sleep in a proper bed for once."

Alex shot him a half-amused glance before turning back to Orssa. Her eyes searched his face, wanting answers, needing them.

"Then what is it about?" she asked, her tone carrying more than a hint of worry.

"Did you hear that the curse over the Shadowcursed Lands has been lifted?" Alex asked, his words soft but heavy with implication.

Orssa’s gaze flickered toward her husband, who only shrugged in confusion.

"And what does that have to do with our problem?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

Alex’s voice lowered. "The cursed lands were teeming with undead—undead that, without the curse to keep them there, are now wandering. They're driven by hunger, and without the curse binding them, they’re moving farther and farther, desperate to feed."

Orssa’s face paled as Alex’s words sank in. "The curse acted like both a home and a prison for the undead. Now, with it gone, they're spreading, seeking food. And the closest source of food is…" He trailed off, letting the horror of his implication settle in.

"This village…" Orssa muttered, her voice barely a whisper. "Shit."

Gale nodded as he had been thinking the same thing.

"Do you have any idea what we could do?" Dorros asked, his voice shaking slightly, fear creeping in around the edges.

Alex paused, considering his options. 'If I was at full strength, I could create powerful wards to deter any undead… but now… '. He clenched his jaw. His power was not what it used to be. But then a thought struck him, one he wasn’t ready to voice just yet. 'Or… I could…'

"I’ll tell you later," Alex finally said. "I need time to think. Meanwhile, I’ll heal old Jarek. The rest of my party can investigate the village and gather clues about what exactly we’re dealing with."

Orssa extended her hand. Alex took it firmly, and the weight of unspoken hope passed between them. Orsaa's hand trembled slightly, her grip tight with silent desperation.

"Thank you," Dorros whispered, his voice barely audible. The sincerity in his words hung heavy in the air.

__________________

The party stepped out of the stone-carved house and into the crisp air of the village. Karlach and Wyll were sitting on a nearby bench, their gazes lifting as the group approached. Wyll was sprawled out across Karlach’s lap, the weight of recent events seemingly eased by her presence. Karlach's rough hand idly stroked Wyll’s hair, a stark contrast to the fiery woman she was known to be.

As soon as they were close, Karlach raised an eyebrow. "So, what’s the deal?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp with concern.

Alex took a deep breath and explained Orssa's account, his voice growing somber as he relayed the potential threat. Wyll’s expression darkened, his mind clearly recalling the twisted, undead abominations they had fought before.

"That’s bad," Wyll muttered, sitting up a little straighter, tension in his voice. "These people are in serious danger."

Karlach's fingers stilled in Wyll’s hair, her jaw tightening. "So, what’s the plan, boss?" she asked, her gaze sliding to Alex, waiting for his directive.

"Me and Glut will head over to heal the injured now, maybe ask a few questions." Alex turned to Tav, who stood quietly by his side. "What do you say, Tav? Do you want to speak with that old woman, Hela?" Alex knew Tav’s psionic flowers would soothe the clearly distraught mother who had lost her son. He was the best choice for the delicate situation.

Tav nodded firmly, his quiet strength a steady presence in the chaotic atmosphere.

"Astarion and Gale, go with him," Alex commanded, his tone shifting into leadership mode.

Astarion let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, how nice. You ask Tav if he wants to do it, and you just order the rest of us around like servants. I’m beginning to think Tav is becoming Alex’s favorite." His voice dripped with sarcasm, but there was a flicker of something genuine behind his teasing.

For a split second, Alex had a flash of déjà vu. He wasn’t about to give in to Astarion’s antics this time.

"And what if he is my favorite?" Alex teased back, his eyebrow quirking as he met Astarion’s gaze.

Astarion’s smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing just a touch. Shadowheart, standing just off to the side, glanced at Alex, her face betraying something for just a fraction of a moment before she quickly regained her usual impassive look.

"Then you have no taste in people, darling," Astarion scoffed, recovering his cool. "Clearly, I’m the best one here."

Before Alex could respond, Karlach growled, her fiery eyes narrowing. "Astarion, shut the hell up and just do it."

Astarion’s lips parted, likely to fire off a clever retort, but he hesitated. The flames dancing behind Karlach’s teeth gave him pause. He quickly snapped his mouth shut, deciding silence was the better part of valor this time.

Alex continued, unfazed by the interruption. "Karlach and Wyll, I want you two to check the forest to the east of the village."

Karlach’s face lit up with a wide grin. She was always happy to spend time with Wyll, especially on a mission that had them working side by side. There was something about their bond that made even the hardest tasks seem lighter.

"Shadowheart and Lae’zel, you’ll investigate what happened to the livestock," Alex said, shifting his focus to the two women.

Shadowheart nodded, her gaze cold and analytical as always, while Lae’zel grunted her approval, eager for any action.

Finally, Alex turned his gaze to Dorros and Lilimila. He could see the fire in Lilimila’s eyes—she was ready to fight, to protect her village. But before she could say anything, her father placed a hand gently on her shoulder, stopping her.

"You’ll walk Alex and his friend to where old Jarek is staying," Dorros said softly but firmly. "I’m going to call two more people to show them where Hela and Feltor are." He paused, glancing at Karlach and Wyll. "I’ll go with them and show them where we heard the melody coming from."

Karlach’s face twitched at the thought of the gnome tagging along, but she said nothing. She knew they needed all the help they could get, and Dorros was determined to do his part.

With a final nod of understanding, the party split off, each group heading toward their respective tasks

________________

Shadow moved like a whisper, slipping through the gloom, his sleek black from blending into the darkness as he obeyed Alpha’s command. His eyes scanned the surroundings, every muscle taut, senses honed for any sign of an anomaly. He stilled for a moment, detecting something at the edge of his vision—a movement, fleeting but undeniable.

Without hesitation, Shadow darted forward, his form melding with the shadows cast by a nearby barrel. His keen nose flared as he sniffed the air, his prey close. ‘Got you,’ he thought, his sharp teeth bared in a quiet snarl of satisfaction.

"Pwa... I almost got caught," a small voice muttered from a hole in the stone, its owner—Aude—unaware of the predator closing in. But Aude’s respite was short-lived. Before he could react, powerful, shadowy arms wrapped around him, dragging him into the darkness. The world around Aude became a blur as fear and confusion gripped him.

‘Alpha, I caught something,’ Shadow relayed telepathically to Alex.

‘Good. Hold him tight. I’ll deal with him soon,’ Alex responded, his mind focused but calm.

Meanwhile, Alex and Glut walked alongside Lilimila, her small form leading them through the village toward Jarek's house.

"Here’s where old Jarek lives," Lilimila said, stopping in front of a house carved into the hillside. The name "Talkis" was etched into a worn plaque beside the door. Lilimila knocked softly, and they waited in silence. Alex could sense the approaching presence behind the door—a mind frail with age but sharp with awareness.

The door creaked open, revealing an elderly gnome woman. Her lined face brightened with recognition as she saw Lilimila. "Lilimila, sweetie, what brings you here?" she asked, her gaze shifting warily to Alex and Glut.

"Some adventurers came to our village seeking respite," Lilimila explained, gesturing toward Alex. "One of them is a cleric. He said he could heal Jarek’s leg."

Galci’s eyes widened with hope as she stepped forward, her weathered hands reaching for Alex. "Please, come inside," she said, her voice trembling slightly with emotion.

Alex allowed himself to be guided inside, the humble warmth of the house wrapping around him like a blanket. They were led to a small adjacent room where an old gnome, Jarek, lay on a bed. His leg was wrapped in thick bandages, and a weary expression clouded his face as he glanced up from the book he had been reading.

"Galci, who is this?" Jarek asked, his voice gruff with age.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"He’s a cleric, dear. He’s here to heal your leg," Galci replied, a flicker of hope in her eyes.

Jarek’s gaze shifted to Alex, appraising him for a moment before offering a hand. "Well, then. Let’s get on with it. I’m Jarek."

"Alex," he responded, taking Jarek’s hand in a firm shake. The old gnome’s grip, though weakened by time, was still full of resolve.

Without wasting any time, Alex knelt beside the bed, gently placing his hands over Jarek’s injured leg. Silvery light began to flow from his palms, the glow soft but powerful, wrapping around the gnome’s leg like tendrils of healing energy. Jarek inhaled sharply as he felt warmth flood his limb, the throbbing pain beginning to ebb away.

As Alex worked, Jarek’s eyes squinted in thought. "Are you a cleric of Selûne?" he asked, his voice curious.

Alex smiled softly but didn’t break his focus. "Not Selûne. My goddess is Eilistraee."

Jarek’s eyes flickered with recognition, his lips forming the name in a near whisper. "Eilistraee… It’s been many summers since I last heard of her. I must have been about your age, Lilimila, when I last heard someone speak of Her."

Lilimila’s brow furrowed. "Is the goddess he serves really so unknown?"

Jarek nodded slowly, his weathered face clouded by the distant memory. "In these parts, yes. But I still remember a traveling adventurer who told me of their rituals. Fascinating, really. I’d give my left arm to witness one."

Alex’s hands hesitated for a split second, the old gnome’s words making him aware of Jarek’s knowing smile. Eilistraee’s followers, particularly the women, were known for their rituals—rituals often performed under the moonlight, dancing naked around a fire in celebration of freedom and life. The way Jarek looked at him hinted at a certain understanding.

"I always wondered what it must be like," Jarek murmured, his voice softer now. "To live so freely… to dance for your goddess in the open night. It sounds… peaceful."

Alex continued his healing, his hands steady. He couldn't answer as he had not witnessed them. He glanced at Lilimila, who was watching him with a mix of curiosity and respect, her youthful innocence contrasting with the weight of the conversation.

Jarek’s leg was almost fully healed now, the silvery light fading. "Thank you, lad," Jarek said, his voice thick with gratitude. "I didn’t think I’d ever feel this good again."

Alex nodded, standing up. "It’s my honor."

As he stepped back, Galci moved to her husband’s side, her eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing Alex’s hand. The room was filled with quiet emotion—a mix of relief, gratitude, stirred by Alex’s presence.

_____________

Galci returned with two small glasses filled to the brim with a clear liquid, the rich, earthy scent of herbs and something sharper—alcohol, no doubt—filled the air.

Alex lifted the glass, bringing it to his nose for a careful sniff. His eyes widened slightly. "Strong," he muttered, half to himself, half in acknowledgment to Jarek’s brewing prowess.

Jarek grinned, the lines around his eyes crinkling with pride. "Like it? It’s from my own batch. Best in the village. Hell, the best in the whole region, if I do say so myself."

Lilimila chuckled softly from the side, her voice cutting through the warmth of the room. "You should be careful with that," she warned Alex with a teasing smile. "There’s a legend around here about Jarek’s brew. They say he once got an ogre drunk from just one bottle of his wine."

Jarek’s laugh boomed through the room, the kind of deep, hearty laugh that spoke of someone who had lived many years and collected many stories. "Legends, eh? Well, that one happens to be true, lass. Ogre never knew what hit him. Went down like a felled tree!" His eyes sparkled mischievously as he looked at Alex. "What are you waitin' for, lad? Take a swing and tell me how good it is."

Alex couldn't help but smile, appreciating the jovial nature of the old man . Without further hesitation, he raised the glass and downed it in one smooth motion. The liquid hit him like a bolt of lightning—sharp, fiery, and lingering. His eyes briefly widened before he swallowed, the warmth spreading through him.

"Good," Alex managed, his voice a little hoarse, but his smile genuine.

Jarek’s grin widened. "Am I right or am I right? Galci, fill 'em up again!" he called out to his wife, clearly pleased with himself.

Before Galci could pour more, Alex gently raised his hand. "Maybe later, Jarek. After we speak."

The old gnome waved it off, his grin not fading. "Ah, you’re here for more serious business, eh? I understand. Go ahead, lad."

Alex’s face grew more serious as he leaned forward slightly. "Can you explain to us how you broke your leg?"

The room seemed to still, the lightheartedness fading into something heavier as Jarek’s expression shifted. He rested back against the headboard, his fingers tracing the edge of his blanket as if he could still feel the pain. Lilimila straightened, sensing the change in mood.

"It was that damned lift," Jarek started, his voice dropping into a rougher, more reflective tone. "I’ve been workin’ on the lifts for years—decades, really. Never had a problem like this. That day, I was fixing one of the old platforms over in the quarry. It needed some work, nothing out of the ordinary."

He paused, his eyes growing distant, as if reliving the moment. Alex waited in silence, sensing the weight of what was coming.

"I was up on the lift, tinkerin’ with one of the gears, tryin’ to figure out why it was stickin’. Everything was normal. Sun was high, a clear day. But then... I felt it."

Alex leaned in slightly. "Felt what?"

Jarek’s voice grew quieter, more haunted. "Something pushed me. Hard. One moment, I was steady on my feet, the next, it was like someone—no, something—shoved me from behind. Sent me flying right off the platform."

Galci, standing close by, took a sharp breath, her hand coming up to her mouth as if hearing the memory aloud made it all the more real.

"I fell hard, straight onto the rocks below. Thought I was done for. The pain in my leg... well, you saw the state of it. I’m lucky to be alive." Jarek’s gaze grew sharper, his eyes locking with Alex’s. "But here’s the thing. I didn’t see anything—no person, no shadow. Just... air. And yet I know I was pushed."

Lilimila’s expression turned troubled. "You didn’t see anything at all? Not even a shadow?"

Jarek shook his head. "Nothing. But there’s more." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper, as if afraid someone—or something—might be listening. "After I hit the ground, before I passed out... I swear I heard something. Giggling."

"Giggling?" Alex repeated.

Jarek nodded, his face pale as he spoke the words. "Aye. Like the laughter of a child, but... wrong. It was playful, but not in a kind way. More like something that enjoyed watching me fall. Something that found joy in it."

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint crackling of the fire. Lilimila’s face drained of color, her hands gripping the back of a nearby chair as if to steady herself.

Glut was looking at the old man , his eyes narrowing.

Alex’s mind worked furiously, piecing together the new information. Undead were one thing, but a malevolent force capable of this...

"Thank you, Jarek," Alex finally said, his voice calm but thoughtful. "You’ve given us more to go on than you realize."

Jarek’s expression softened, a small smile of relief breaking through the tension. "If it helps you figure out what’s goin’ on, then I’m glad to be of service. Just... be careful, lad. This thing, whatever it is, isn’t natural."

Galci nodded fervently beside him, her face pale but determined. "We’ve lived here our whole lives, and nothing like this has ever happened before. It’s like the village itself is... turning against us."

Alex stood, the gravity of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. "We’ll do everything we can to stop this. I promise."

Jarek gave a slow, deliberate nod. "I believe you, lad. Just be sure to watch your back."

As Alex and Glut turned to leave, Lilimila escorted them toward the door, her steps unsteady but her resolve clear.

____

After stepping out of Jarek's house, Alex paused for a moment, taking in the quiet surroundings. His eyes scanned the village, sharp and calculating, before he started walking away with Glut at his side. There was an air of quiet determination about him, a heaviness that hung between every step.

Lilimila hurried after him, her small footsteps quickening as she caught up. “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern. She couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that something far darker than an accident had taken place.

Without turning to look at her, Alex’s voice came, steady and certain. “I think I know who’s responsible for Jarek’s accident.”

Lilimila’s eyes widened, her heart pounding as unease crept up her spine. She quickened her pace to stay close, her voice more urgent now. “Who is it?”

There was a brief pause as Alex’s gaze remained locked ahead, his face unreadable. His silence only made her more anxious.

“You’ll see soon,” he finally responded, his voice low, almost distant.

Lilimila swallowed hard, feeling the tension growing in the air between them.

The air in the abandoned house was thick with an eerie stillness, as if time itself had forgotten the place. Dust hung like mist in the shafts of light cutting through the cracked windows, while the wooden floor creaked under their footsteps.

As they entered the house, Lilimila froze, her eyes widening in horror. There, standing in the center of the room, was a creature unlike anything she had seen before. Its body was twisted and warty, its skin a sickly shade of violet-gray, and its large, triangular head bore grotesque bat-like ears. A long hooked nose jutted out from its face, with a bony ridge that ran down the center of its skull. The creature’s eyes flicked nervously, its lanky form covered in tattered, filthy rags that hung loosely from its frail-looking body.

Alex stood still, his gaze locked on the creature. "That’s a mite," he said, his voice low but clear as he stepped toward the trembling being.

Lilimila, instinctively stepped back. "A mite? What’s it doing here?" she asked, her voice edged with fear. She had heard of these creatures—dark, twisted fey known for their mischief, but to see one in their village, here, standing before them, was something she hadn't expected.

The mite flinched as Alex approached but dared not move. Its beady eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. But it didn’t run—couldn’t run. Shadow, Alex's silent, terrifying companion, lurked in the corner, barely visible. The mere presence of the nightmare creature that haunted the shadows was enough to keep the mite frozen in place.

'It seems Shadow did his part,' Alex thought, his mind sharpening as he mentally prepared himself. 'This should make things easier.' He focused, and invisible psionic tendrils reached out, coiling around the mite's fragile mind like a predator constricting its prey.

'Who are you?' Alex’s voice echoed in the mite's head, his thoughts clear and cutting through the creature’s panic.

The mite hesitated for a moment, its lips trembling before it responded, its voice a raspy, mental whisper. 'Aude... My name is Aude...'

'Did you push an old gnome from a high place?' Alex’s mental voice was relentless, digging deeper into the mite’s thoughts. The creature recoiled, its instinct to lie nearly overpowering, but it knew better. It could feel the cold, unyielding presence of Alex searching through its mind, probing deeper, sifting through its memories like a knife cutting through cloth.

The mite’s breathing quickened. It could feel something—something terrifying—coiling within Alex's presence, ready to strike if it sensed deception. Its skin crawled, and it felt like it was suffocating under the weight of Alex's psionic grip.

'Yes... I pushed the gnome,' Aude finally admitted, its mind cracking under the pressure. 'But... I had no choice.'

Alex’s eyes narrowed. 'No choice? Who made you do it?'

The mite’s eyes darted wildly around the room, fear clawing at its insides. 'The Conqueror...' it whispered telepathically, its mental voice shaking. 'The Conqueror brought us here.'

'The Conqueror?' Alex pressed, stepping closer, the mental tendrils tightening. 'Who is this Conqueror?'

Aude hesitated, its small, malformed hands shaking as it tried to resist answering. But Alex’s psychic presence was too overwhelming, suffocating any attempt to hide the truth. The mite's mind crumbled under the weight, and it finally broke.

"The Conqueror..." it repeated, its voice filled with dread. "He opened a portal... to the Feywild. He brought creatures—many creatures—into this plane... to conquer it. We were forced to follow. He commands us... controls us. If we disobey, we suffer... worse than death."

Alex pushed harder, his psionic tendrils piercing deeper into the mite’s memories. He needed to see—needed to know more about this Conqueror. But as he searched, the mite’s mind became fragmented, its thoughts distorted by fear and pain. Flashes of dark images, broken memories, and half-formed visions swirled in Alex’s mind.

And then, he saw it.

A towering figure, shrouded in shadows. Its form was immense, imposing—too large to be fully visible in the mite’s fragmented memory. But what little Alex could see was enough to chill him to his core. Glowing, malevolent eyes burned from beneath a horned helm, and the air around the figure crackled with dark energy. Its voice, when it spoke, was like thunder—deep, resonating, filled with malice.

The figure loomed over the mite in the memory, a hand reaching down, its fingers curling with dark magic. Even in the fragment of memory, Alex could feel the overwhelming power of the Conqueror—the sheer, suffocating aura of dominance that oozed from him.

And then, the memory shattered.

Aude whimpered, its body trembling violently, its thoughts dissolving into incoherent fear. Alex blinked, his mind pulling back from the broken psyche of the mite.

"Who... is the Conqueror?" Lilimila asked, her voice shaking as she saw the sudden paleness on Alex’s face.

Alex didn’t answer right away, his gaze distant, still processing the terrifying figure he had seen in Aude’s mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

"A threat for everyone in the village."

The air in the abandoned house grew colder, and Alex knew that their troubles had only just begun.