Tarithnesti - Grotto's Divine Debate

07 Deepkolt 349 AC

AT THE OTHER FARMHOUSE

Romulus retreats to the kitchen of the farmhouse. He pinches the wick of a candle between his thumb and forefinger and a tiny flame springs to life, illuminating the small room.

He pulls out three scrolls and reads them, sending updates to Commander Parnitha, Raven, and Shadow. All of the messages are the same:

"Twelve goblins and twelve Draconians slain in battle at my location. No casualties on our side."

Kysek makes his way back to Dusk. “This is only a small part of what we can do girl. While this battle was preplanned; there will be many others that are not. Thank you for carrying me to locate our enemies so we could rout them in haste. You are truly a noble steed!” Kysek tells her as he scratches her under the chin excitedly. The griffon makes a "chirrrrr" sound and cranes her neck, exposing more area for her master's scratches.

“Let me see if I can find you some treats inside? I’ll be right back," he adds as he goes to seek out Romulus.

As Kysek turns, he hears a sharp CRACK. Then another. He turns and watches as two of the dead Baaz statues crumble, collapsing into piles of gray dust.

Romulus steps out of the farmhouse, hands raised to cast a spell. A third statue breaks apart and he relaxes, understanding where the noise came from.

Kysek steps up on to the stairs beside him.

Once Kysek finds the archmage he calmly states, “Another probing mission."

Romulus nods.

Kysek continues, "They’re going to come; stronger, more… This was but a test."

Another statue crumbles. Kysek shrugs, "They've been known to explode."

Romulus taps a passing scout, "Careful with the remains. Break them down and spread the dust.”

He points toward the dark, hissing patches on the ground—acid pools left by the kapaks. “Use it to neutralize those.”

The scouts move quickly, using broken planks, shields, and tools to push the crumbled stone into the acidic patches. Smoke rises from each puddle. Snow, dirt, and bits of goblin armor are piled on as well. Gradually, the acid is buried, or sinks into the ground, but the area becomes safe, or at least safe-ish, to walk through again.

With the immediate danger handled, Kysek asks, "Are there any yummy treats here for Dusk? She deserves them.”

Romulus laughs quietly. "There may be some preserved meats in the basement."

Kysek claps his hands together once and heads inside. Dusk lets out a hopeful chirp.

The halfling shakes his head, "He's spoiling her. She's an apex predator, not a pampered housecat!" He smiles and descends the stairs.

“…though I suspect explaining that to him would be a wasted effort.”

Inside, the faint sound of Kysek digging through the supplies can be heard,  followed by a triumphant, “Ah-ha!”

Dusk screeches happily and spins in circles.

Romulus laughs softly as he walks off in search of Macula, "Yes, entirely wasted."

THE PROTECTOR'S TOWER

Commander Parnitha paced around her office. Eilra sat at the long, map-covered table, chin resting on one hand. Outside, the Thon-Thalus flows slowly past. Runners stationed below carry messages to other locations in town.

There is a flicker of light and a scroll appears. Parnitha reaches out and breaks the seal, scanning the words. The set of her shoulders relaxes and a soft sigh escapes her lips.

"Good news?" Eilra asks.

Parnitha hands her the scroll.
“A successful ambush at one of the outer farmsteads.”

Eilra scans it quickly, eyes sharpening. “No casualties…”

A faint smile touches her lips. “We needed that.”

Parnitha straightens slightly. “Send word to all forward positions.” She gestures to an aide. “Reinforce concealment. No unnecessary movement.”

AT THE FIRST FARMSTEAD

Raven does not sleep. The Reverie, as often is the case, eludes him. He rises and slips silently out of the farmhouse. The smell of roasted venison still lingers faintly in the air. He takes a slow breath and looks around. He checks the sled first, brushing frost off of the fake grain sacks and shifts them around, making them looked recently placed instead of abandoned. As he heads toward the barn, he receives Romulus' message. He passes it on to Ra'ziir.

Ra’ziir reaches out to Raven mentally, “We continue standing by for another probing attack then, I suppose…?” The bladesinger can "feel" Raven thinking, assessing what they know, and formulating a reply.

While awaiting a response, Ra’ziir checks in with the scouts at the wall, “Stay alert, our location has not been attacked but that does not mean it won’t be. That small group that hit the other location is likely one of many. Remember to give the signal should you notice anything…”

A soft, practiced bird call answers him from both sentries. Both elves tighten their grips on their bows.

Grotto hears the battles in the distance. "Sure hope they leave some for us!" Grotto says to the nearest elf on the wall. He rips apart the last of the feast he cooked the night before and shares it with his brothers-in-arms. He keeps his eyes sharp waiting anxiously for the trap to be sprung. He feels his runes burn his body. "Yes, Lord Kiri! Vengeance will be ours! None spared, all suffer as you command!"

A few feet away, one of Ra'ziir's scouts, Vaelin, looks in the scarred dwarf’s direction with a confused expression, "Master Grotto....you are mistaken. Kiri-Jolith is the god of Justice. He teaches us to fight to protect those in need - not to make enemies suffer. He expects Honor. Righteous battle. That's not...vengeance." The scout shifts uncomfortablly, "That would be Sargonnas." Vaelin swallows, "the Consort of the Dark Queen Takhisis."

Ra'ziir is not close enough to hear everything Vaelin said but he does catch the name at the end.

Grotto becomes confused and concerned. He asks Vaelin, "Please tell me more of this god!" Grotto explains his dreams and holy symbols and first encounter at the tomb of the noble elf warrior. Grotto wonders if he has become the conduit for more than one god because of the inconsistencies of his dream. "I must know who is helping me!"

The tomb of the elven prince held the golden horn of a bison. A crimson bull had been the deity appearing in his dreams....

The wind shifts slightly, carrying the smell of smoke and ozone from the distant battle. The runes still blaze beneath Grotto’s skin but for a moment they feel different, less like the heat of the forge... and more like a brand.

Raven reaches the barn door and checks the wedges holding it in place, making sure that they will move freely the instant they need Redclaw and Ra'ziir to emerge from hiding to attack. The griffon lifts its head, opening one golden eye to look at him. Raven whispers, "Soon" to the beast and returns to his rounds. Redclaw huffs and lays his head back down, returning to whatever griffons dream about when they sleep.

He slips into the orchard, his feet moving in near perfect silence. He walks between the rows, peering up at the darkened sky. Listening, waiting.

Raven opens the mindlink back to Ra'ziir, "They will come, probably just before sunrise. But they lost a patrol. They won't walk in blind. When they arrive, they'll look for tracks and try to find us first. If they’re smart, they won't commit until they know what killed the first group."

Ra'ziir can feel the faint tinge of anticipation at the edge of Raven's subconscious. "And if we're lucky, they'll send something worth killing."

The black-robed elfemental pulls Grotto aside. Once they are out of earshot of others… “Who are these ‘gods’ you have so quickly dedicated yourself to and what have they promised you?”

The Bladesinger then reaches out to Raven again, “We may have a problem with our Dwarf…” he goes on to explain the exchange in as much detail as possible.

"On my way," is Raven's answer.

"When looking through the temple of the elfin warrior, a voice asked if I would root out evil. Of course I said 'yes'. The temple seemed to be dedicated to a bull god as the alter was adorned with bulls and there was a great bull horn in it. I had dreams of a bull god who then said to rid the land of evil and granted me much needed clerical magic to help us in battle. Lately my dreams have not only been of a bull but of a red eagle. Like there are two gods! Both want me to fight evil and strike down those who have wronged these elves. Figured we were going to do that anyway so let's do it and give me the boon of magic in this land with no magic available to me!" Grotto explains to Raz.

Vaelin scratches his head. "Sargonnas the bull is the lord of vengeance and fire. Kiri-Jolith is the patron of justice and honor and his constellation is called 'The Bison's Head'. I don't know much more. I have next to no experience with any of the gods or their worship. They turned their backs on the world before I was even born."

Raven, who arrived partway through the explanations, crosses his arms. "You said you found a horn. Are you sure it was a bull's horn, not a bison? It doesn’t seem like the elves would have a temple to Takhisis' Consort within the walls of their city. Maybe we should contact Elaine or Alara?"

Grotto nods a thanks to Vaelin. He then speaks to Raven and Raz, "Not sure of the horn type, I'm no zookeeper but it was definitely a red bull, then a red eagle in my dreams. The dreams tell me to seek out vengeance and justice for those of the land who are wronged! I don't feel a sense of malicious intent from this god. Only for me to right wrongs to those who deserve it, those that slaughtered and killed the innocent elves. I gave the artifacts I had back to the elves during my trial. Pretty sure they won't let me look at them after all that I did. Those may give us some answers. If we could examine them."

Raven is quiet for a long moment, "Justice and Vengeance can feel similar - at first, and from a certain point of view, they can be the same. But justice is measured, not indulgent. It doesn't need you to hate. It doesn't enjoy suffering. Vengeance comes from grief, from pain, from being wronged."

Raven looks off into the distance, "Vengeance is dangerous, my friend. It can powerful, it can feel right. My father was killed by ogres. He and I were escorting elves out of Cormanthor, an elven nation much like this one. We were returning to our homeland. Our caravan was attacked. I have spent years learning how to kill ogres and giants and every monster imaginable. But, I have never learned to enjoy it."

Grotto nods, "Wise words, friend. I feel similar with my views towards goblins. My hatred of them was born of grief, pain and being wronged. I feel I am doling out both justice and vengeance. To slaughter these goblin feels very therapeutic. To call it vengeance is correct. If it pleases these gods while we are here and gives our side the magic of a cleric, so be it. Vengeance and justice will please these lords, war will please Hanseath!"

Raven takes a deep breath, "Maybe. But if Kiri-Jolith and Sargonnas are reaching out to you, then everyone here may end up caught in the middle."

Thoughts of his decades of mistreatment at the hands of the goblins fill his mind. The runes burn. Grotto doesn't know if the gods speaking to him making them burn  or if it is a part of his hallucinations of the goblin torture. He doesn't care. Grotto looks to his friends and says, "I am a blunt instrument for the will of the gods. We need the powers they grant me!"

Grotto's eyes then widen, he speaks through clenched teeth and taut muscles, "With this power, Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds. No enemy dares stand against us!"

Ra'ziir shakes his head, “I believe you have fallen for a ruse, a trick played by the Dragon Queen… or a servitor of hers perhaps.”

Grotto grunts in response, "We shall see. But we need the power to heal. Our bard can not be all places all at once. My traditional healing only goes so far. In this realm, it seems I am answering to two allied but very different gods. I'm not sure at this point. I must risk it!"

Grotto ponders, he knows the difference between a bull and bison. Who is his patron he wonders. "No matter, we need the magic of a cleric!"

AT THE CRYSTAL QUARRY

Shadow prepares his spells, ensuring that he has several Mass Teleports ready for use. He looks down at the cavern floor, inspecting the circle he has carved into the earth, focusing on its shape, its depth, committing it to memory as a target destination for his magic.

“There that should do nicely."

The dark elf then proceeds to make a quick round and check with each of his subordinates and their assigned tasks.  First, he goes to Cor. “Have have you picked your team? I would like to meet them.”  After making introductions he spends a bit of time with them asking about the gear that they carry. What they are skilled at. And goes over with them the rough plan of them being on his teleportation team: to assist when the others are in dire straits, to strike where they are needed most. Once finished, he will go onto the next group in the quarry with Jensen.

Once there, Shadow will see how the groups are divided, making sure that they have set up times to rest. "Have them sleep in shifts, one group trains while the other rests. Keep it basic, no fancy moves. I want them to know how to stab someone trying to stab them and how to get out of the way if my companions and I have to come in to help." Shadow makes a list of what this refugee militia needs... shields, longer spears, armor of any kind. He hopes that Alara has managed to stockpile or find some in the warrens beneath the civic building back in Silvanost.

Finally, Shadow will seek out Cedron and Cassidy to double check the list that they have and just make sure Cassidy hasn’t caused too much trouble. 

Shadow hears Cassidy long before he lays eyes on him. Peals of laughter echo through the caverns. Shadow follows his ears and rounds a corner, remaining just out of the lights cast by the softly glowing crystals and watches for a moment.

Two rows of children, perhaps a dozen in total, are sitting cross-legged on the floor. Each has a makeshift xylophone, crystal fragments glued to thin strips of wood with varying degrees of effectiveness and are beating them with pieces of most likely stolen silverware while Cassidy waves his arms around in a loose approximation of a conductor directing an orchestra. No rhythm. No coordination. Just overlapping notes:

ting-ting—BONG—ting—TING—bong—

A small girl hesitates, tapping her crystal too softly. Cassidy immediately scoots closer.

“No no no, you’ve got to mean it!”

He gently adjusts her grip.

“Like this—think about something scary and then bonk it!”

She giggles and tries again.

"Alright! From the top! This one is called... uh... ‘Don’t Get Eaten!’”
TING—BONG—TING—

The drow tries not to laugh. He tries not to notice the tightness in his chest. He tries not to think about the pain he felt when he Cassidy was assumed dead in the wake of the first dragon attack.

Shadow turns away and slinks back before he is noticed. Before anyone notices his eyes tearing up. “I am not crying,” he says to Spewer, “got something in my eye.” He steps up his pace and once well away he sniffles and says in a stern voice, “Now let’s get with Cedron about the next group to teleport out of here. Wonder how many kids there are total?” Shadow pauses and says to Spewer, “Go back and get a count of the kids in there. And any others you see. I am going to ask Cedron”.

Cedron spontaneously gives Cassidy a hug. “Thank you, my friend.” Cedron pauses a moment taken aback by his spontaneity. “You’ve reminded me of something very important. I’ve been struggling to make a connection with My god. But I’ve been shortsighted. My-Our connection with Progress with everything are these precious moments that we share. You are a blessing, Cassidy.”

Cassidy freezes. Spoon still in hand. Humans, as a rule, don't hug Kender. After almost an entire second of confusion, Cassidy hugs Cedron back.

"Um... well, yeah... I mean, I try," he replies softly.

He rummages in his pocket and pulls out a small, slightly smudged crystal shard. He presses it into Cedron’s hand. “This one’s lucky.”

"Maybe."

"I think."

"Keep it anyway."

MEANWHILE, IN SILVANOST

Griffons circle above the city. Speaker of the Stars Lorac Caledon makes a public appearance with his daughter, Alhana, at his side. The entirety of the city is gathered in the streets to watch the departure of the Wildrunners of House Protector as they set out on their march to the border town of Shalost, two days to the west. Cheers follow the elves out of the city, perfumed handkerchiefs waved by ladies on balconies flutter down to the defenders of the realm. Children raise toy swords and spears, cheering the soldiers. A chorus of hope follows in their steps.

After watching the Wildrunners depart, Alara returns to her catacombs to find Councilor Elar waiting for her.