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[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Chapter 9 - Long Lonely Travels

“So, you don’t know your way to the surface?” Tyrnan asked the dwarf.

“No. Got lost. Normally I stick to the same trade routes, but caught up with one of the moving groups and ended up deeper down in this place than I want to be. Far too many blasted dark elves and duergar. All those other unsavory types as well,” Brek ran his hand over his beard thoughtfully as he spoke.

Neither of them took too much notice that Gutrick had his hand on Melzan’s shoulder as they walked. They decided not to use any light because with other creatures who could see in the dark following them it would send up a beacon of ‘here’s a group who can’t see’. Gutrick would let his other senses take over and he new that Melzan would light something up the moment he needed it. Many would not trust a Drow that much, but Melzan respected power. Such creatures were easy to manipulate.

“Dwarf, lost in caves?” Tyrnan snorted and began to chuckle. “Sounds like a bad joke.” “These ain’t caves, this be the Underdark. A lot different than ‘caves’,” the dwarf apparently felt just as talkative.

“Not that much different. I mean, we’re still surrounded by rock and there are stalactites and stalagmites.”

“Well, most caves might have one or two deadly things or groups in it. In the Underdark the things are much larger, and some are smarter. Dark elves crawling out of a shite smelling crack to stab you in your sleep, hook horrors trying to gut you, Duergar who can kill with their terrible breath, not to mention the snakes and spiders. Kuo-toa and the Svirfneblin are good to trade with. If we can get to Blingdenstone we can find our way to the surface,” Brek said and Gutrick made notes in the back of his mind of the names and creatures. “I rather prefer being somewhere pleasant smelling, but who knows about the rest of the Drow. I know they’ll stay just about anywhere if it means getting ahead,” Melzan said taking slight offense to what the dwarf said. “Assassination is not my method of choice either way.”

The dwarf got closer and looked at Melzan, the only reason Gutrick noticed is due to the sound of foot falls and Melzan’s golden glowing eyes looking down and to the side.

“No, yer not wearing anything spider like. In fact, that symbol you have around your neck, it ain’t Lolth.” “I am a member of Bregan D’aerthe. As a dwarf you’ve probably heard of us, especially as a trader,” Melzan’s words proved more and more interesting.

Gutrick did not know much about that, but having two experienced with trade and travel in this area increased the chances of his plans succeeding. With Melzan on his side when he found a place he wished to rule the Drow might be able to arrange some agreements for the exchange of goods.

“Oh, yer one o’ them. Still a bunch of mercenary bastards but not as bad as the others I suppose,” Brek stroked his beard again, the scratchy sound of dry hair against calloused flesh sounded rather unpleasant.

“Yes, and personally I hope I never see Menzoberranzan again. Lolth is vile and I wish for nothing to do with her,” Melzan spoke softly, a hint of fear in his voice that Gutrick picked up on.

Gently squeezing his shoulder appeared to return Melzan’s confidence.

“Those are big words,” Brek admitted before he headed back to walk with Tyrnan once more. “We’ll want to take the next east passage if we want to get to the Kuo-toa trade outpost. Probably find maps and supplies. You all do seem rather bare other than basic necessities.”

Waffles jumped a little and clapped it’s little chubby hands. “Yes, that is correct. Correct correct! That is where we shall go. “

“How long is it going to take to get there?’ Tyrnan asked.

“Three days, possibly a little more,” Brek yet again answered.

The absence of a female elf’s opinion seemed almost uncharacteristic. Gutrick looked back, still unable to see anything. Did they lose her? She’d proven exceptional in combat. Sha’Leena never actually talked that much in their current travels, so it may be just fine. Out of everyone, he expected her to be the one that may stab them all in the back if given the opportunity. Reminded him of some of his warriors back home, causing him to smile under his mask.

“Sha’Leena?” Gutrick asked quietly. “Yes?” came the lovely elven voice.

“Scout ahead if you wouldn’t mind. Not too far. Don’t want you to get lost, but if we are getting near something I’d want to know before we reveal our position with talking,” Gutrick felt Melzan nod his approval, then turn his head to watch the elf rush past without a sound.

The fact that Gutrick couldn’t even tell she had passed even while blind began to play into more of his plan. All good lords needed assassins. A capable assassin was worth ten trained guards. She could probably have done so without Melzan noticing either, but dark elves could apparently see better in the dark than most, even their surface kin.

“Keep her in your sight,” Gutrick whispered to Melzan. Another nod of agreement.  

The group, other than Tyrnan, didn’t appear to talk much. All of them felt more than comfortable to travel in silence with minimal communication. Not entirely abnormal for a group of these types of people. Talk when necessary, respond when required, march and search for the trading group the dwarf mentioned and traveled with. All in all, not a difficult plan of action. Rather plain really.

Brek proved more than useful going out and gathering food with the help of Melzan. Knowing what fungus could be poison already made the hunter dwarf valuable. Melzan lit a small bit of light in a small cavern that had two entrances. It wouldn’t be a good idea to get ambushed and have no way to escape. Even running into nothing outweighed certain death.

Gutrick trusted the dwarf and full blooded elves to keep watch. Without his sight handicapped his ability to perceive anything really. So they ate in the light, then when Gutrick moved to sleep Melzan extinguished the spell. Darkness again. Gutrick considered how soon his eyes would get used to such darkness. Likely not even a little, especially not the the extent of the other races trapped down here.

Now and then during those three rather quiet days, Gutrick felt rather grateful whenever a bit of glowing lichen would allow him the ability to see. From the magic he’d seen in this world he gathered there may be a way to rid him of the near constant blindness in these caves. If he were to rule, being able to see no matter where he traveled would be advantageous, but not necessary. Maybe at some point the cleric would have a spell that would allow him sight without actually summoning light.

The lichen of this area gave off a gentle blue. A strange sight to be sure. Not as strange as the sounds of a waterfall. Did they end up getting turned around and heading back towards the grove? No. It did not smell like an area of greenergy and mushrooms. Just water with the musty smell brought out by deep caves. A wide bridge of stone connected the tunnel they walked through to another across a long expanse. Water fell over one of the cave walls to the side of the bridge.

A figure stood in front of the falls watching it. Too far to really make the creature out. Gutrick looked at the others and continued to walk. There didn’t appear to be any other threats and they could take on a single humanoid by themselves no issue. At least that’s what he thought. When they moved closer it appeared to be a male, and the man’s beard moved. The moment it moved Gutrick noticed Melzan tense.

The drow hurried by, as far away from the man as possible, turning as he went to always keep the humanoid in his sight. Even going so far as to walk backwards. Apparently feeling safe enough Melzan turned and ran as fast as he could away. The reaction made Gutrick pause. Perhaps he’d underestimated whatever this might be. He too gave it a wide berth and continued to the end of the tunnel without saying a word. Nearly everyone followed considering Melzan normally did not behave that way. All out terror covered the Drow’s face as he ran. Gutrick did notice Brek stop to talk to the creature, but paid it no mind. If the dwarf wanted to get himself killed so be it. The chances that the humanoid wouldn’t hurt him didn’t seem high, but Gutrick didn’t care enough to bother with it. Finally catching up with Melzan he put a hand on the drow’s shoulder and studied him. Melzan looked a bit shocked and out of breath.

“What was that?” Gutrick asked.

“An ilithid… a mind flayer,” he met Gutrick’s eyes and still shook. “They enslave other races. Plant their offspring in the heads of others and turn them into one of their own at a command of a giant elder brain. They are evil. Pure and utter evil, not unlike most of my own kin. Though I’d trust another drow before I’d ever trust one of those tentacle faced bastards.” “What makes them so,” Gutrick didn’t want to emasculate the elf so he tried to think of a word other than ‘scary’. “Formidable?”

“Because they can get into your mind. Control you. Lets just say those spores and the sudden dancing, on top of your head exploding into a mushroom would be a far more pleasant fate than what an Ilithid would do to you,” Melzan said and it gave Gutrick a chill to his core. “I don't’ know what that one might be doing there or why, but I do know that I want to be nowhere near such a thing.”

Gutrick paused and looked back towards where they came from.

“We will wait for Brek for about ten minutes. If he is not back, we will leave him to his fate,” Gutrick stated and Melzan slowly nodded, not liking the plan, but not willing to argue the practicality.

“So, mind flayer, is that because they flay your mind?” Tyrnan asked with a chuckle, earning him a glare from Melzan and Gutrick.

“Mind flayers because, well, yes, and because they use those tentacles to force their way into your actual skull to violate your conscience and subconscience to the point where you are no more and all that exists is their will. They are nothing to laugh at. They especially enjoy enslaving elves due to how dexterous we are. The elder brain, from what I hear, enjoys being massaged and personally I have no desire to be a mind slave for hundreds of years until they decide to either kill me or turn me into one of them.”

Tyrnan swallowed before nodding. That did not seem like a grand idea to him either. As a half elf he didn’t have as much time, but if something like that happened he might consider the shorter life a blessing.

Sha’leena appeared farther into the cave than the others and pulled her hood back.

“The creature did not appear dangerous, this Ilithid. Though being near it did give me a chill. I could swear it actually spoke to me and saw me as I snuck past it. Nothing sees me unless I want them to, except in this case…” she frowned. “It said ‘Greetings, I am Grazilaxx of the society of brilliance’. The moment it got into my head I realized I wanted as far away from it as possible.”

“We should just leave the dwarf to his fate. There is nothing we can do for him…” Melzan muttered and looked at the ground.

Gutrick almost agreed, but Brek came up to them to interrupt. No sign of the Illithid.

“Well, what are we all just standing here for? We need to get going,” Brek said as though nothing was the matter. He began to walk to lead the party into the tunnels once more.

From all the group could tell Brek did not appear hurt or under mind control. Then again, they hardly knew him so no telling if he was really of his own mind any longer. Still, Gutrick let him lead because they really had no other form of direction in the dank and dark places of the Underdark. Melzan took no part in a trance that night. Gutrick noticed because he woke quite often during the night and not once did the elf look rested.

The next night more of the same. Melzan continually starred behind them to make sure nothing had followed. On the third night Gutrick could not stand for a weak healer. He moved to Melzan and looked him in the eyes from behind his crow mask.

“You need sleep,” Gutrick said.

“I need no such thing, I’m fine…” he glanced at Gutrick before looking back to the path behind them.

Gutrick grabbed him by the jaw and forced Melzan to meet his eyes. The grip tight enough that the elf couldn’t just pull away.

“Brek and Sha’leena will take the watches tonight. You. Sleep,” this time it did not ring as a comment, but more as an order.

Melzan got the picture. ‘If you are unable to serve a purpose, you will be useless to me’. He swallowed, but didn’t say anything. Gutrick kept his hold, tightening it a little.

“I will… go into my trance,” Melzan looked down with his glowing gold eyes.

Satisfied with the response Gutrick released his jaw and pointed towards where the other cots were set up for rest. He watched Melzan go to his own and sit. The elf’s eyes fell shut and his breathing slowed. Sha’leena looked the same way since she was on the second watch. Gutrick moved to get himself as comfortable as possible so he could also get some sleep. Tomorrow, whatever that meant down there, would start a new day. Who knows what else would cross their paths.

When he woke, Gutrick moved to Sha’leena and looked at her.

“If you wouldn’t mind taking the lead once more? As you said yourself, no one sees you unless you want them to,” Gutrick’s voice was firm, not in a mood to pretend to be nice.

“Of course,” Sha’leena smiled widely, her eyes going half lidded as she thought about how far ahead she could get. Though she hated the caves, she couldn’t deny how easy she could blend in and hide against the different rocky features. “Though to know, if you ever touch me like you did with the drow or if I don’t like your orders, I will run you through and not lose any sleep over it. I’m not such a weakling.”

She looked over to Melzan and it didn’t surprise Gutrick. He knew that Melzan only appeared and acted weak. A great ploy and one he admired for how well it worked. As such, he would not reveal that to anyone. “I would expect nothing less,” Gutrick nodded.

She tilted her head and looked a little happier before walking at a quick pace ahead of the group.

With a heavy sigh Brek nodded as he looked down a crossroad. “This way. Should be to the trading post within the next couple of hours. Once you start smelling fish just follow your nose.”

“How very foul,” Sha’leena scrunched her face up a bit at the thought. Fish was not her favorite smell. She looked back over her shoulder. “Should prince come with us, or wait?”

“Come with us of course,” Melzan said in reply.

“You have that spell to keep him calm?” she whispered, but Gutrick could hear her. “Your ‘pet’ is very dangerous.” “Yes, he is. Also very useful. I can control him well enough, so worry more about yourself and your admirer, Iblith,” Melzan whispered and almost spat back.

“Prince,” Melzan turned and actually gave a convincing smile. “Are you faring well? Do you need any food? Water?” “N-no… I am fine… We are almost there? I smell the fish,” the Quaggoth gave his own sweet smile that looked all the more horrifying with the sharp yellow teeth showing.

“That’s good. Your nose is quite good in that form,” Melzan nodded.

“Melzan, Drow aren’t welcomed in many areas, are you sure you’ll be welcomed here?” Gutrick asked.

Melzan pulled out a little symbol from his pocket. “Long as I have this I’ll be fine. I’ll likely need to translate for you with many of the shops. Though some speak Dwarvish, most will likely be speaking Undercommon. We have many things we wish to purchase if I’m not mistaken.” “Maps, armor, possibly better weapons,” Gutrick confirmed. “Maybe a guide to help us out of here.”

“We also do have a few things to sell, which … we’ll probably not get good prices for them here, but something is better than nothing combined with dead weight. Even if we have the bag Magic has its limits,” Melzan sighed, knowing that far too well.

The group fell silent once more until the trading group came within sight. By ‘post’ it was really a large cluster of caravans which probably moved decently often. The current shop set up didn’t appear to be a bad spot of business. A couple of Duergar, some Sveifneblin, other Koa-Toa all gathered around talking and jabbering. Deals were being made and arguments started over the worth of one item or another.

A human with a raven mask with feathers made some of them pause. Not many had ever seen feathers before nor a mask of that caliber. It interested them.

Melzan did his job well as translator. No one else that Gutrick knew of spoke Undercommon.

“We come to buy, sell and trade,” he said up at the counter.

The fish man looked at Melzan and nodded. Melzan began to lay what they wanted to sell out and Gutrick listed the things they were looking for.

Better armor, another shield, a bit more armor for the others, and a lot of Maps. Overall they still made some gold off of the transactions. Translating, bartering, and waiting for the sellers to trade items with one another to fulfil their orders took longer than expected, nearly four hours. Gutrick hated shopping, but could not argue with what they managed to acquire.

They made sure to travel a few hours more away before taking time to split up the goods. The Koa-Toa  were not known for being honest tradesmen and often handled the acquiring and selling of slaves. It would not be wise to stay within their easy reach while being vulnerable. Melzan spent time with Gutrick and the maps, translating what he understood and Brek translating the fish people’s language since Melzan was not fully versed in it. Finally they had a new goal. In the nearby Koa-Toa city the leader might aid them in getting directions to the surface if they could manage. It would only take another week.

Time went by so slowly when no one talked and nothing happened. Yet Gutrick halted their progress when he noticed a voice in his head. He went through the things he bought and soon found one of the maps.

‘Save me,’ the map whispered. A magical marking appearing on the map. ‘Save me and I will give you great reward.’

No one else heard the map talking to him. It would not be a huge deviation from their course to go to the suspicious area on the map. It called to Gutrick strongly.

Melzan gasped suddenly and clutched his head. He swallowed.

“The drow… they’re catching up to us… They… i think they know where we are!” he said and Gutrick nodded. They would have to find a hiding spot. Maybe a magical sealed cavern would suffice.

Gutrick took them on a sharp left, where the Map would have them continuing forward. Whatever magic brought about a talking map could only be protecting something powerful or valuable. Money and power were both necessary to start an empire.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Elient the 6th? / Day 2 Night in Barovia

Melzan felt emotionally spent after comforting Nessa. Honestly she didn't understand most of it, and just said what she thought another would. Granted she believed most of what she stated, didn't change how it was still just impersonation. She moved to have a bit of private time while they rested. She sat with her back against a tree and wrapped her arms around her legs. Melzan let her forehead rest on her arms.

Though she had confidence these people weren't complete morons now, they certainly were taking severe risks that didn't make any sense to her. She liked Nessa and really didn't want to see her hurt. Illiad, well, Atreyu was acting far more upset with her and she couldn't see why. They were powerful and trying to avoid what needed to be done. Apparently after that death of one of their old friends they may have snapped out of it. Melzan still had some fear that they'd end up turning on her, or just leaving her.

He found his time away. He needed to just, be away. Gone and away... not as far as he wanted. He just.... the halforc growled to himself, handsome face twisted into some thing much too beast like. Much too orc.

He slashed at the air. Once and then again, the blade spun in his grip, feet shifting as he danced. His shield moved in tandem, spinning and stopping, deflecting imaginary blows with a grace that didn't match his rage.

Venting. Sometimes healthy. He could only get away with slashing into igor so much.

Melzan could hear Ill- Atreyu. The half-orc seemed to be experiencing frustration, just like her. Looking back at the group, she decided to go and watch Atreyu train. Definitely better than her at martial combat. With her hood down and her face covering also put away she watched. Finding a comfortable spot against a new tree she brought her knees back up. Training, far more like home, a comforting action that she was used to. Violence.

"I'm supposed to be the stalker love."

He lashed at the air, getting used to this dwarven blade. Magical runes lit in his senses, but he still thought the sword was too short. He had to get so close. He knew he'd get addicted to it.

"The last time I did this i was shirtless. I'm not as much to look at anymore though."

His voice without the accent sounded, hurt. He growled and slashed. The dancing couldn't possibly fit the anger in his expression. But this was Atreyu.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that. Why would it matter if you were shirtless? You still just look like you. Well, the not disguised you. I don't really have a reference to what you looked like before but I'm certain it was probably still a half orc," she tilted her head a little to continue watching. "I don't think I could ever move like that."

"I'm degrading my self Melzan."

He spun and slashed, holding his form and breathing hard. He looked to melzan, his left eye burning and beastial, his right eye almost glowing maroon. "something I can do for you love?"

"Degrading? You saw me do a solo dance meant to be done by many people to music I didn't have. I honestly don't know what you mean by degrading yourself," her own eyes were glowing golden as she looked at him. Then she realized he might want to be alone. Melzan got up and turned back to the direction of the camp. "My apologies for intruding. I don't need anything."

"Please, don't melz."

He sighed still angry. But he ran his hands through his hair trying to calm himself down. It took him a second, breathing hard, but he did his best to give them a smile.

"I shouldn't be left alone right now. Stay with me?"

Melzan paused and turned back to him. She moved to sit down and leaned against the same tree.  She didn't know why he wanted her to stick around, but humoring seemed like the right thing to do.

"Why shouldn't you be left alone? Are you going to hurt something? I can help if it's not someone in our group," Melzan suggested. "Sometimes, I can imagine, slashing air doesn't help with anger."

"I don't know. I'm not used to anger like this."

"You definitely do seem more... emotional since we got here," Melzan admitted. "I thought it was because you were afraid at first. Or that it was because of some other change. Your shadow and all coming back may have been startling. Though, back onto what you said earlier, why would you do something like this shirtless?"

"Fan service."

He said bluntly, sheathing his sword. "I shouldn't have raised my voice to you before melzan. A bard should know better." He sighed softly now, shaking his head.

"I also can't stand tight constricted clothing."

" 'Fan service'," Melzan looked like she was wracking her brain over what that might mean. She knew fans were those things women used to keep cool sometimes. Service was obviously a service. "How can you fan someone without a shirt while swinging a sword around? Couldn't you do that with a shirt on?"

Then she thought back to the constricting clothing. "I Agree on the clothing. When I'm not worried about dying I have rather nice silk clothes. They feel very nice."

"It's my bards college." He sighed, lean muscles twitching from the strain. The half-orc's lower canines still prominent in his expression, trying to push back his anger. "The College of Fan Service."

Was he, trying to be funny? His tone was angry and frustrated. This voice his real voice, rage didn't suit it at all. "Fan service is when an artist takes extra effort to, appease to fans."

He ran his hand through his hair, right eye closed out of habit. Atreyu would walk closer to his friend, falling against the tree, and sliding down into a sitting is position. "When a writer describes the way sweat runs down the shirtless heroes chest in painstaking detail, leaving a base sexual image in their minds."

"Silk definitely helps for the effect love."

"Why would you appease am inanimate object? I don't think I've read those books. I've read histories and many magical books but never one that wrote about shirtless men... Is that what people find sexy? Really? A shirtless sweaty man?"

"Apparently. I think it's just an in the moment think. But it sells books, so I can't judge."

He shook his head. Anymore and he wasn't sure how to continue this conversation. "A fan is someone who truly appreciates and follows the work of a person or artist. It's human thing."

Maybe it helped. Explaining and thinking about stupid mundane things. Just, running his mouth was somehow... no. How fucking stupid.

"Sorry."

Melzan thought about that. "So I'm ... a fan of Drizzt Do'Urden. That's an interesting term.  I still don't see how  being shirtless would do anything other than be impractical. Unless you had someone you thought might want sex watching," Melzan nodded to herelf before looking at Atreyu. "You already apologized. What's this one for?"

"I don't know."

It wasn't really clear what he was answering.  "That's usually the point of those books or actions yeah. Lot of lonely people out that, fans of handsome heroes looking for some kind of emotional or physical fulfillment. Like I said the books sell."

The growling of his voice was gone now. "Just put up with me for a little ok?"

"So those books are about... sex? Or imagining sex with someone?" her cheeks looked a little darker as she looked at the ground. "We... don't really have things like that. I might have to look into one of those books. It sounds interesting and if it can fill emotional and physical desires. I've never had anything that could do something like that." She laughed a little and tilted her head to the side.

"You're a weird dude melzan."

Atreyu attempted to give melzan a smile. It was genuine but weak and he reached up to pat his friends head. "I used to want have fans. People who talk about me the way you talk about, drizzt?"

Fake accent or not that was a stupid word to pronounce. Probably his canines getting in the way.

"Maybe I'll write you something, or tell you a story. I have absolutely no  idea what you'd like though. And I'm honestly a bit heavy on the romance side of things."

"Well i hope that people will talk about me like Drizzt too but i know they never will... I'm not a hero no matter how much i try to be like him," Melzan looked sad. "I think people might talk about your like that some day. As for romance i have no idea how that works."

"I don't think anyone should be looking up to me."

He pulled his hand away.

"Maybe a few pretty things asking for a song in a tavern. I like the attention."

He let out a breath in the cold air.

"Promise me you won't learn about romance from a fucking book."

"Why shouldn't i learn it from a book? Where else should i learn it? I don't really have many sources," she laughed a little at herself. "And what normal humans do with one another as romantic.... Well, i just don't get it."

"Then don't go courting humans hahhah. Find someone you trust, whose nice to look at and makes you feel comfortable. Stay beside that person."

He shook his head leaning back into the tree. He was hardly the person to give any sort of advice. The fuck did he know about it.

"Try holding hands with someone. It's a good start."

"I had two people like that once... Though it never went anywhere. One left to their homeland and the other just left." She laughed at herself feeling pathetic. "As if anyone would want to be with a drow. I mean other than for the 'exotic  experience'."

She got up and brushed herself off. The dusk elves might want her but that would probably only be due to her being the only female they'd seen in five hundred years.

"You're looking at a half-orc. If this face could find love... you'll be fine melz."

His eyes didn't follow her, but he'd stretch a bit, rolling his shoulders like she's seen him do before. Besides the armour and the cloak, his clothes had a lot more colour to them the one might have expected. Like those women in the inn, or some one from some distant land.

"Don't let anyone take advantage of you melz. As brutal as you are, you're kinda naive y'know?"

"You're a handsome half orc. Honestly you aren't that bad to look at. Half orcs do not nearly have the reputation that dark elves have. That reputation has slowly been brought into question thanks to Drizzt. Though we are considered prettier than orcs. As for being taken advantage of, I doubt it," She smirked and raised an eyebrow. "I might be naïve about romance and some slang, but not about things that are important. I'm not one to be manipulated by the dead or people I may have cared about. I think that's one reason why I'm supposed to be here with you all. Samuel and I actually. Because we aren't people who let our hearts determine our actions."

"My heart is everything I have melzan."

Atreyu sighed, pulling the cloak around him, trying to get a bit more comfortable. "Drinn was an amazing fighter. Just incredibly strong, and able to use his anger in a fight. He was born here and was on his own before he met us."

The Young orc pulled his ewer out, holding it in his hands. He could see that it was empty, but he felt the magical weight of the liquid swirling inside of it.

"Rapheal... she was a ranger. Heavy crossbow, long bow, didn't matter. She had a magical spear too. She was..."

He took a drink after saying her name. Thinking about Drinn was hard, but, Raphael... his body tensed as he too the liquid down his parched throat.

"We see them, we put them down. And I intend to be looking."

"They sound like good people. They could use a proper death. I'm sorry I wasn't able to finish them off. I thought you wanted us to run, but... I'm sorry. I can't really imagine how much this might be hurting you or Nessa," she said softly and moved to hold her arms out a bit. "This is... the time when hugs are supposed to be used, right?"

She looked away and bit her lower lip, hoping that it wasn't intruding on Atreyu's feelings or personal space. Melzan would do what she could to save Atreyu and Nessa the heartbreak of losing someone so close to them.

"You're really cute right now melzan."

He shook his head and held up a hand from his drink. "I, actually don't really wanna be touched right now." He too another sip. Lying fucking hypocrite. But he was good lier, and an excellent hypocrite.

"Maybe, nessa..."

He looked down, right hand slipping to his left side, the feeling of her embrace still kind of burning at him inside. His beloved little rogue...  he really was a piece of shit.

"After all that, she could probably use some closeness and understanding."

"Cute? Is that another term of endearment or are you actually calling me cute?" Melzan asked, ignoring how he'd told her he didn't want to be touched.

Reaching her hand up she placed it on the side of Atreyu's face and healed him. The back of his head would stop bleeding. Then she lightly smacked Atreyu's upper arm.

"Don't hurt yourself. That's my job if you're being an idiot or Nessa's. Especially since I'm your lovely girlfriend darling!" Melzan began to impersonate how she'd acted the day before.

She even fluttered her eyelashes a bit. Then began to laugh. "Do men really like when women act so helpless?"

"I can't speak for all men. But I guess it's more like..."

He tilted his head with her leaning down like this, looking for the words as though they were in her eyes.

"Knowing that someone isn't helpless, but trusts you enough to let their guard down around you."

"But seriously, you're gonna make me laugh and I'm trying to be all somber and brooding melzan. Go comfort nessa."

"Never met women who do that before. They're always very strong when I meet them and have no reason to show vulnerability. They're terrifying most of the time in my experience," Melzan tried to meet  and keep Atreyu's eyes, but it was intimate and she looked away.

Melzan did not want to be a leader or the person in charge. Though she could when needed. Because of this she avoided basic dominance contests.

"Well now, Darling, I can't just let you be all broody, it's not good for a... for...moral?" the impersonation faltered a little, but she tried.  

"I've never met a weak women melz. Scared, hurt, alone and in chains, but never weak. And to be completely honest, I have absolutely no interest is a women like that."

He yawned softly as melzan looked away. If he hadn't asked her to stay with him a moment, he'd be much more confused about why melzan bothered. No, it was still strange.

"Moral?" He tilted his head the other way. "A captain needs time to brood and reflect. To rig a sail with his own hands every once in awhile to remind himself how it all comes together. My mother used to say that, pronouns aside."

He'd reach up brush the side of melzan face, no healing touch, nor did he look up to her.

"I'm last on the list remember? Nessa, and then you. The others of course, and then me. That was the deal."

"I've never been sailing so I have no idea if that's true, you could be lying to me," she stiffened at the touch at first before relaxing. Melzan looked back to Illiad's eyes. "I've never made a deal like that. I made a deal that I'd protect Nessa before you, and I think I did that today. I'll talk to her more when it's time for bed. Ellana is there with her right now anyways. I'm not good at this comforting thing, but it helps from my experience. Just never been on either of those sides before, but it's what you all seem to need and Eilistraee sent me to help and... I honestly have no idea what I'm doing..."

"It's, like my ramblings infectious." He blinked, laughing softly to himself. "The rest of the deal comes through with logic. Or do you let your heart guide your actions pretty elf?"

He sighed shaking his head, stopping himself before taking another drink. He needed his head.

"None of us have a clue. But, if you won't leave, come sit with me Hun. It's straining my neck looking up at your eyes from here."

"My heart does not guide my actions!" she said, taking that to offense.

Normally such things were considered weaknesses. The fact that Atreyu also called her pretty made her cheeks darken again. Slowly, she moved to sit down. The elf pulled her knees back up to her chest and she looked out over the area in front of them.

"You know I'm not going to be a woman forever. I'm a male. Well, my main form is male and this one... Is a little confusing. I just know that I normally can reach Eilistraee easier like this."

"I, don't think I've treated you any differently since the change. Have it?"

He yawned, leaning against her only just. The lack of weight a reminder of Atreyu's apparent frailty.

"I can imagine. I guess I've just spent to long trying to figure out what my masculinity means to me. I don't think I could have it as well as you have melz."

"Well, I don't think you called me 'pretty' or 'cute' before. That's all new. I mean, not that I mind it," Melzan shrugged before stiffening as he leaned on her.

She was tense, much like with the hug, ready to move or react at the slightest sign of danger or hostile movement. Melzan didn't pull away though.

"I didn't handle it very well the first time it happened..."

"Cute yes, but that's more about you holding your arms out having no idea what you're doing. I've called you pretty a couple times."

He yawned, nodding. "I'm sorry you had to go through that melzan. It's gotta be tough following a goddess with uh, preferences."

Melzan laughed a little and shook her head. "She does, but she at least is open to consider males. It's so much better than Lolth. Also, I think you're just making fun when you call me pretty. Most men, from my experience don't call other men pretty without teasing them or meaning it offensively. I just need to get used to you giving honest compliments. It's not an easy thing to get used to..."

When she tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes it brought her hair to the side exposing two marks that looked like a snake or vampire. They were rather old, along with the other scar that started just below her ear and went around her neck and under her shirt.

"Too be fair you are much much prettier like this. Don't get used to it, ask me to stop."

The scars coughs his eye, and he followed them down her neck but said nothing before looking away. He wondered how his friend might react to his scars. all of the deep lashed against his back.

"I'm not always lying. And never about something like that."

"Mmm I think I must agree with you. I am prettier like this," she smiled and laughed a little as she looked at him. Golden eyes glowing in the dim light. "You're the backbone of this group, Milo's the heart, nessa's the kindness.... Sam's the brains... It's a good balance." Then she thought about it. "I might like being used to something like that."

"Here I thought I was the liver." He chuckled softly. He was looking away, his own eyes glowing dimly. The right side more so of course, that strange maroon orb, that almost seem to swirl with magic if one looked close enough. "Like it huh? As long as you're comfortable. You're a pretty weird dude melz."

"Well, I guess you could be the bloody one," she began to lean back against him as well.  "What makes me weird? You keep saying that..."

Melzan sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm not sure why wanting to actually be able to trust what a person says makes me weird. Of course I definitely wont with any stranger but with people I've been traveling with?"

"That's not what I meant."

Feeling her weight against him, he gripped the handle of his ewer hard, arm shaking. No... just stay. Don't go just... Atreyu sighed, shifting his shoulders to push her weight off gently before he stood up.

"I'm, going to get back to training Melzan. "We should be moving out soon. It's a long walk to where we're going."

"We do need to rest as well. I doubt Nessa can travel anymore tonight. Besides I'm interested in hearing what you tell me what you meant?" Melzan didn't appear to take offense to being pushed away. She made a note that Atreyu didn't want to be leaned on in her mind. All people had things they didn't like, but with him being so close she didn't think that would be one of them.

"We should find a more secure place to rest. These statues creep me the fuck out."

He nodded, rubbing his shoulder as he started walking away. The half orc put his ewer away, pulling out some jerky. He needed something to shut himself up.

Melzan looked at the status. They'd gone quite a ways away from them since the fight. She gave Atreyu a nod asked got up. "Alright, come on then."

"I need a minute melzan."

He didn't turn around, just continuing to walk, sheering off a chomp of the jerky with his sharp teeth.

"Okay," Melzan didn't move. Not only were there chances of a vampire whisking Atreyu off but Nessa also asked her to look after him.

He just walked, fliping hood up into the woods. He was headed back towards the others, away from his solitary place. Ness and Samuel were alone. Samuel must be running low on magic for the day. He knew Melzan would be alright after the rest.

His own magic was practically untouched, an after a short rest he'd get what ever pact magic back. Same as melzan. He wouldn't tell her, them about how he dreamt of them, of those golden eyes before they'd me. That they were connected by a patron. He had no interest in furthering his relationship past mutual favours with any goddess.

Melzan got up and followed.she would not make the mistake of getting physically close to Atreyu again. If he approached she'd handle it, but she would not intrude on his personal space. Back at the camp Melzan moved to Nessa and wrapped her arms around the halfling.

"Iliad, do you have a song you could sing to put everyone more at ease?" She spoke softly.

"I, don't want to bring any more attention to us until we're ready for a fight."

Atreyu couldn't look at them. He just walked over to sit by Samuel as he did what ever weird necro thing he was doing with the rest of igor. He leaned back against something, he didn't care what I got was really, and pulled the hood down lower.

Melzan frowned at him but nodded. She sang softly in elvish to Nessa.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Elient the 6th? / Day 2 Afternoon in Barovia

Melzan wrapped her arms around Nessa and held her tightly. She didn't realize how worried she'd truely been about the halfling. With a gentle squeeze, she finally released the little one.

"I mean it, if you get taken, I'll walk in there head first. Don't you dare think I wont," Melzan stated as she met Nessa's eyes.

Were tiger Nessa stood rigidly as Melzan came in for a comforting embrace. It offered little relief for there was a coldness forming around the poor halfling’s heart. Her golden feline eyes looked straight past Melzan as he spoke. The drow’s words seemed garbled as if one had slowed down time. She blinked and saw in her mind’s eye Raphaelle’s beaten body down in the dirt,  a slender arm outstretched towards her. ‘Sister, why did you leave us? Don’t let me die here!’ the voice, Raph’s voice, it begged and pleaded to her. It...wasn’t...it couldn’t have been...but she...she was...Nessa shook her head side to side to try and clear her mind.

As she peered into Melzan’s eyes her voice began to tremble. “I-It's my fault you're here in the first place...It's my fault that t-they..." her eyes flick towards where the chase had first begun. To the place where her friends, nay her family had tried to...they had tried to...It was too much for her to handle. Her feline ears folded against her skull as Nessa looked on mournfully.

"I knew the risks when I joined you," Melzan pet her hair and even scratched a little behind one of her ears. "I'm here and I'll take care of them. You wont have to. I promise. Just don't give yourself up. No matter what you do, Strahd wont let us go. We're here until we either kill him, or he gets tired of us and we die. Sacrificing yourself accomplishes nothing, Nessa. Nothing."

They had all been here. Gloriana, Kogan, Drinn, Lady and even...and even Raphaelle. W-What had he done to them?! Some of them...t-they were just rotting or ashen flesh. But the others...like Raphaelle. Her image was burned into Nessa’s mind. The kindest and most purest of them all...and now she was...Salty tears began to fall from her eyes and drip down her fur covered cheeks. “I-I feel like I fucking left them…we said we would run…so I…I ran and ran…I-I was too fast...and because of that Strahd he...and I wasn’t...but then that means...when I vanished they all...they all…” She opened her mouth to say more, but all that came out was deep, gut-wrenching sobs that tore through her chest. Her stance faltered as she began shaking and gasping.

“T-they didn’t deserve this...any of them...Raph...” she choked on her words, slowly rocking back and forth. “I-I just wanted to protect you all. To keep you safe...even if that meant…” she coughed and gasped as the tears streamed down her face and dripped off her chin.

"No one deserves this. What they deserve has nothing to do with what happened. If you hadn't ran, you'd be here with them. If they were really as good of friends as you say they are they wouldn't want that," Melzan said softly and held the tiger tighter. She felt so broken up and she didn't know why. Why on earth would she care that much about this Halfling? They'd only known one another for less than a month. Melzan had never seen another cry so earnestly. It almost made her cry for the first time without pain being involved. Her eyes were a bit red and glistened. "It wasn't your fault."

Nessa sobbed into Melzan’s chest unceasingly, hands clutching at her cloak. How was it better that she had not been here to protect them?! “...I could...I could have done something...i-if I was...I was...still here…” With each muffled sob her heart felt as if it might break in two.

A tiny lapse let her pull away from Melzan’s warm embrace. Through teary eyes she spied Samuel grinning and pointing at something in his hands. She sniffled and blinked away her tears. Igor’s smiling head dangled grotesquely. She collapsed again, her howls of misery echoing in the bleak forest.

Melzan slapped her. After that she grabbed Nessa's jaw and made her look into her eyes.

"It's not your fault. One thing about being an adult, an adventurer, is realizing that no matter what you do, how hard you try, however good your intentions... You can't control everything. Things happen where nothing you could have done would have helped. Imagine your friends. Imagine if you were one of those creatures. Would you want them to surrender to you? Too become like you? 

“Sorrow is natural, but stop it with all the guilt. If this guy is really as powerful as you say then there was nothing you could have done for them other than survive. Find people to put them to rest. Getting yourself killed just because they died would have been something to feel guilty about. Self righteous suicide! Cry, mourn, do what you need to, but stop thinking you'd be better off dead like them. You have people, living breathing people who are depending on you. We could do a lot better if we didn't have to worry about you turning on us for the dead."

Melzan’s hand cracked across her face, snapping it to the side with force of his blow. Nessa’s eyes widened as Melzan grappled her jaw and stared angrily into her eyes.

Her weeping had stopped, leaving her with shaky, uneven breaths. Nessa flinched as the harsh words met her ears. She was hollow. Her life was crumbling before her very eyes.

With empty eyes she listened to the drow’s words. Nessa’s head shook every so often in agreement with what she had to say. “N-no, I wouldn’t want that. I wouldn’t wish that upon them or towards you.” Conflicted emotions swirl behind her eyes. “...put them to rest?”

“I’m done running! We’re hunting my family down.” The yell from Atreyu echoed in her ears like a clap of thunder, such was his rage. It was a roar of pure anger.

"Yes. Give them peace in true death," she looked over to Iliad. "He... If anything happens to you, i don't think he could handle it."

Nessa gives a slow nod. “Yes, but how will we...how can they rest peacefully? The mist...i-it...it traps your soul here...” Her face saddens as she hears of Atreyu. Did she matter that much? Then why would he not tell her anything? Who was he trying to protect?

She clenches her fists tightly, her claws piercing her flesh. “The only...the only way would be to go straight to the source. To go to the snakes fucking head! Only then will they be free.” Rage burns deeply in her golden eyes. She would keep to her promise.

"That's what we plan to do. We will kill that son of a bitch." She smiled softly.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Elient the 5th 1489 / Night 1 in Barovia

The sound of hurried tiny feet could be heard as Melzan waited silently in her room. With a crash the door burst open, an out of breath and rosy cheeked halfling appeared bearing a wine bottle in each hand. “Alrightly then. Let’s get this party started!” Nessa strode happily into the room, closing the door as she entered. With ease she jumped onto the bed and began to work at opening one of the bottles.

Melzan smiled and locked the door, then the windows. She took the bulk of her armor off before smiling. She wore fine silk under her armor. With a big smile she hopped onto the bed with Nessa. Reaching out, she gently, to avoid pip and elana, pet the halflings hair.

"Yes, lets get this 'party' started. What does one do at a slumber party? Drink and eat? I do like both of those activities," Melzan giggled.

Nessa smiled as she felt the gentle pat atop the head. It brought back many memories…With a gleeful squeal she opened the first bottle. She turned her head to and fro as she scanned the place and sighed. “Ugh…I think I forgot the glasses.” She chuckled awkwardly.

“At a slumber party?” She tilted her head to the side and pondered the question. “I can’t quite say. Never had one myself. Food and drink sound excellent though!”

"That's okay, we can share. I don't have any diseases," she pulled Nessa into a gentle one arm hug and took one of the two bottles to start drinking.

They were most likely going to die here, but for now they were alive and she planned on keeping it that way as long as possible. Melzan liked Nessa. The little halfling was sweet and had a huge heart even if it was mostly filled with the desire for gold.

"I think just drinking and eating will be okay. We'll create our own slumber party."

"Yes!" Ellana nodded and flew around them. Melzan brought out a small cup from her mess kit and filled it with some wine so she could have some.

Nessa clumsily tried to steady the wine bottle as she was briskly wrapped into a warm embrace. Giddy laughter filled the room.

“We certainly will!” Nessa’s smiled as she watched Ellana flit down towards the cup for a drink. She raised her own bottle to her lips and poured a generous amount. Grape Mash…How long had it been? Months? The dark rich flavor flowed down her throat. Oh the Wizards of Winery sure did know how to make a good drink. She thought back to those cheery nights in the back room of the winery with Raph…up all night drinking and talking of better times. A small smile curled up her lips.

She let out a pleasant sigh. Her eyes peered towards Melzan with interest. “So, why do you…ummm..how is it that you…why do you look like a girl now?”

Melzan smiled sweetly and pressed her forehead against Nessa's. For a little while she just enjoyed the closeness before moving back and getting her book out of her bag.

"My goddess... She prefers female worshipers to access her powers. Though very rarely, she choses male ones. Like myself. Though to get closer to her, and obtain our power, she allows us to become her gender. We develop a connection with her and whenever we feel the need to be close with her, we can to a ritual to feel that again. Normally it wears off after I've completed something she wishes me too. So I'm not going to be a girl forever, but this isnt' the first or the last time I will be one."

She opened up the book to the chapter with the ritual. Everything was in elvish but the drawings were clear and obvious. There were female drow dancing nude under the moon.

Nessa grinned happily as she felt Melzan’s warm touch against her forehead. Was this what family was like?

The halfling listens attentively to Melzan’s peculiar tale. “Eilistraee prefers female worshipers hmmm? Is that why you think I’m the one she sent you to find?” She furrows her brow, deep in thought. “But I, I don’t have any magic talent like you do…unless you consider what happens to me when it’s a…” her face pales a little bit as she remembers the torturous transformations she must endure.

She drinks another sip of wine as Melzan brings out her large tome and opens it on the bed. “Well that’s not something you see everyday.” Her fingers trace along the foreign elven script as she eyes the drawing with interest. “Is this one of those kind of books? The ones the boys get all excited about?” She chuckles and removes her hand from the parchment.

“You do rituals…like that?” Her dart from the book and back to Melzan as she pries for answers. “What’s it like?! So does she give you any hints then? For these tasks you are to complete?”

"That is, also she doesn't just need magic users. She just enjoys helping people and bringing them hope. She cares about outcasts and those that don't feel like they have a place," Melzan explained and pulled Nessa closer for a squeeze.

When she mentioned the book being one of 'those kind's that made boys excited she didn't understand. She never considered it anything more than artistic.

"Most the time, when we dance we dont' want to hide anything from her. We want to show her everything. We don't really regard nudity the same as most surface cultures. It's not really all that exciting most of the time."

Melzan loved the questions and she smiled honestly as she turned the page and began to explain. "I do, they are amazing, and take my breath away. Dancing under the stars and enjoying pure song and a type of joy I've never know. Sometimes there are drinks and kissing, but not much more than that in my experience. As for hints, normally I get visions or I just have to ask myself, 'What would she want me to do? What would be the right thing?'. Sometimes I don't always know the answer."

“Hope, huh?” Her face saddens a bit. Did they even have a chance? She gazed back towards Melzan with her hazel eyes. “…you…you mean to say she welcomes anyone?” Seconds later she was enveloped by another comforting hug. Was this what Melzan was like? He…or she seemed so different than Nessa thought she would be. Sure she knew what a badass fighter Melzan was…Nessa admired the way she took down that warlock and massive shadow dragon. But all of this…this compassion…it was an unexpected surprise for Nessa.

“So you leave it all out in the open then during that moonlit dance? Huh. I don’t know if I would be able to do that.” She chuckles to herself.

Nessa stretched out on the bed, wine glass in hand and peered at the tome. “Dancing amongst the stars, huh?” She thought back to the night before and smiled. Despite the exhaustion that followed her transformation she had twirled beneath the moonlit sky without a care in the world. A gentle hand leading and guiding her. “That sounds mighty nice.” Her cheeks burn slightly as she hears the talk of kissing during the rituals. She bashfully sips more wine. “Y-you have visions? H-how do you know that they are…are that? And not dreams?” She looks at him curiously. “It seems like so much of a guessing game then. These mini quests.”

"Anyone. No dance required. If you need hope, a place to belong, believe in freedom and that slavery is something that should be demolished, she'll welcome you. You don't have to dance naked either. But you might be even closer to her than I am now that you are a weretiger. Your more closely connected to the moon," Melzan enjoyed being with Nessa.

She didn't have to worry about fearing her. If she tried to kill her, then Melzan could handle it very easily. She'd lived with rogues and murderers so Nessa would be simple to take care of if it came to that. Melzan also promised to Illiad that she'd watch over this little halfling.

“She seems pretty alright…this goddess of yours. R-Really? You think that she’d accept me for being a…a were tiger.” She whispered the last word, still not comfortable saying it. Bajarni had taught her many things that night but what she was, it would take a bit more time to accept it all. For now…for now she at least had a purpose. Her eyes flared with rage as she recalled her vow.

“What else is in this book of yours?” Her hands reach out to brush the pages edge.

"Just stories and rituals. Information about her. It's something that many people want to destroy. No matter what, I need to protect it," Melzan let Nessa look through the book. "Also, I'm positive she'd accept you if you wished to worship her. She accepted me as a Drow. SHe even accepts orcs, and honestly anyone else who wants to do good for the world."

“They would want to destroy it, but why?” She lightly traces the edge of the drawing. The halfling hadn’t seen much art…it was…it was magical. “Who would want to destroy something so beautiful?” Nessa propped herself up on the bed and swirled the wine at her hand. Hear ears perked up upon hearing who Eilistraee accepted. A light smile played on her face.

“Say Melzan. What do you think of the lot of us? Do you think we stand a chance here?"

"The spider goddess... Lolth. The one most drow worship. She hates Eilistraee and wishes to kill her and snuff out those who worship her," Melzan looked into Nessa's eyes and smiled.

"I think that, after spending these last two weeks with you, that Milo is the heart of the group. He's innocent and pure of heart. That you have so much passion and compassion for those around you that you'll likely do something foolish, but I think we'll be there. That you care deeply for those you consider friends. You seem to want to bring as much joy as you can to those you care for. Not to mention you have a thing for gold. Illiad, well, he's hurting and an idiot, and a fool, and a good fighter and singer, decent with the lute..." Melzan thought about it.

"Samuel is smart, but definitely not much practical knowledge in these lands. He's from a place far away from what I can tell and Igor is well, a zombie gnome. I'm not exactly happy about that, but... All in all, we're going to wipe the floor with Strahd. I believe we will. I know my Goddess wouldn't send me into something hopeless, as I've said before. We will win. I know it."

“Spider goddess? A thing like that exists?” Her mouth opens slightly in surprise.

With her free hand Nessa gently caresses a smooth stone necklace at her neck. Her fingers gently trace the ruins embedded in it. “Milo…I-I hope he’s okay. I can’t believe he slipped through our fingers…” Her eyes burn deeply with regret. “Ha. Something foolish? I would never do that!” She sticks out her tongue and continues to finish off her bottle. “I DO have a thing for gold. I’d gladly take any off of your hands.” She flashes a wry smile.

Upon hearing about Iliad her cheery facade cracks for but a second. That stupid idiot… “I saw you two were enjoying yourself with those vistani women. What exactly were you up to?”

“I don’t know. He seemed capable enough in these lands. Did you TRY one of those apples? They were delicious! You really think we’re capable defeating him? I mean I thought ‘we’ were before…” Her eyes fall downward as her face darkens.

"Well, I'll make sure that any silver or something you have I'll trade you gold for," Melzan said with a smile. "At least when I can spare it. As for the spider goddess, yes, she is evil. Absolute evil and terror and.." Melzan reached to touch her side near where her belly button would be, but to the left.

With a shake of her head she relaxed and thought about what she and Illiad had done.

"Well, we wanted to get information, and people are more vulnerable if they think you're a clueless couple so... we pretended that we were going to be wed at some point. We learned about the laws, where a good dress shop is, when the wedding is going to be. That sort of stuff. About the new Sheriff which... Illiad looked so pale when they mentioned the new sheriff. I also did not try one of the apples. A bit too busy trying to figure out a plan as to what to do."

She leaned a little against Nessa, and moved her hand up to brush her fingers through the halfling's hair. "Yes. I believe we will beat him. Even if it's not true, I need to believe we can, or else we wont..."

“Thanks for that. I appreciate it. I’m still not used to the whole silver thing.” Nessa eyes Melzan curiously as she touches her side. A war wound perhaps? Had she dealt with this god before?

“Ohhhh. So that’s what you were up to. You two looked absolutely ridiculous. What was up with those voices?” She chuckles to herself as she remembers. “If there is a new sheriff in town, I’m sure it won’t be good. Come on now Melzan. It was only an apple. Planning could wait.”

A tiny mouse scampered out from under Nessa’s scarlet locks. He traveled down her shoulder, squeaking in protest, until it found itself in her lap. Nessa giggled and stroked his head to calm him. “It’s only Melzan silly. She won’t do anything.” Her hair bobbed slightly as she looked up at Melzan. “Yeah….I suppose…” The tiny halfling took in what the drow had to say. Was believing enough?

“Hey Melzan, can I uh ask a favor of you?” Nessa uneasily looked over to the edge of the room, she gently stroked Pip’s head with a single finger. “Since you're always around Iliad can you uh...I don’t know...can you make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid…something that he’ll regret?” Nessa looks solemnly at the remaining red liquor as she swirls it in the bottle. “He’s done some pretty...pretty bad stuff in the past that I couldn’t sto…” She slowly looks up and stares Melzan straight in the eyes, her gaze unwavering. “He can get into this...this rage...and I fear for what it will do to him…So, c-can you do that you think? For little ‘ole me?” The familiar smile crawls across her lips.

"I'll do that," Melzan said with a nod. "As best I can I'll try to make sure that he doesn't do anything too stupid. I've done some rather horrible things in my life too... I didn't always have Eilistraee as my patron." she said softly.

“G-good. Thanks Melzan.” She lets out a deep sigh. “Soooo shall we finish the rest of this wine then? The night is still young!” Nessa laughs gleefully and raises the bottle in the air with a grin.

"Yes!" Melzan nodded and raised up her bottle before taking a very long drink.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Elient the 4th 1489

"Well, that bear certainly wasn't terrifying at all," Melzan attempted a bit of sarcasm as he sat near Illiad by the fire.

Most of the others were starting to doze off or already were. Like most elves, Melzan didn't need nearly as much sleep as the rest of the group. With such time on his hands he began to look through the grimoire of that warlock with the shadow dragon once more.

"The family of zoanthropes that i'm used to, are, not nearly as intimidating..."

Iliad sighed softly, illusion covering him as he plucked at his lute. The sound was simple, subtle, a song of rest for those around him. Magic laced into music the party could barely even hear. He didn't seem to want anyone to know that he was actually weaving healing magic into his song.

"But they die the same as anything else. I'm happy you didn't get hurt love, and I'm happy I didn't have to kill him. I really don’t like killing people."

"I'm happy that he failed to grab me. As for killing people," Melzan through about that for a moment. "I don't really mind killing people. I just prefer not to do it without reason. Might just be my upbringing. Murder and all was like eating breakfast. It's understandable why people wouldn't like doing that.”

"I, find most people, even good people don't seem to care." The young man behind the veil sighed soft. The rhythm he plucked into the loot growing softer, and more somber. "I do not ever want to be comfortable with taking lives."

"That is a wonderful comfort to aspire too. I hope you can manage it," Melzan said honestly.  He looked over to Ellana who was  asleep on top of Nessa's head cuddled up in her hair with the mouse. It made him smile. "At first I regretted and hated the fact that Eilistraee sent me here, but I'm starting to like it."

He continued making notes in some parchment as to what the password could be. He found a few items that seemed like they might, but nothing concrete yet.

"So, I don't think most of us can cast these spells. Should we sell some of them, depending on if we survive long enough to find a buyer?"

"We certainly won't find one where we're going."

He frowned a moment, sighing softly, and giving his head a shake. Iliad didn't seem like he wanted to think much tonight. There was a frustration in his song. Eilisraee... he wondered how much power the goddess could have in a place with no moon.

"It's colder their too. Dark and cold. No sun, and snow in most places."

"I don't like the cold, but it can't be helped I guess," Melzan looked over to Illiad to take a break from his translation and search. "So... you call Nessa little one, you call Milo milo, sam 'grandfather'. You like those terms of endearment. Is there a logic to what you use with people?"

"I call nessa red. It's hard because I have to keep my self from calling her that."

The Youngman shrugged, eyes glancing over to the sleeping halflings. Emotions were, confusing. Confusing long before Barovia sapped him, dulled his expression. Regardless. he knew she wouldn't feel the same. He'd be a real piece of shit if he expected her too.

"No real logic behind any of it."

"Well you refer to her as the lil' one or such when you talk about her to others," Melzan noted and tried to think about if Illiad had truly randomly chosen a term of Endearment for him.

The dark elf brought out a few pieces of dried meat from his own pack and began to chew and eat them.

"I said I'd stop if you're uncomfortable melz."

His expression shifted back to something more akin to his charming playfulness. He'd avoid the brooding as much as he could. Lest he reminds himself that he was the one who could just walk away. Run away like he had intended when he escaped Barovia.

"Not everyone is comfortable mixing masculine and feminine terms of endearment."

"I'm not, I'm just curious. I like to know things. When I don't know something I really want to figure it out. I don't really care for masculine or feminine. Either is alright with me. Though in common masculine is always more dominant. It's amusing in a way." 

Melzan smiled a little and reached up to brush some of his own hair back behind his ear.

"Yeah, I've never been big on that."

He chuckled softly shaking his head. "I was raised by a very strong, and caring woman. She gave me my penchant for loving nicknames."

Iliad stretched, wincing some as he rolled his shoulder. His frame was far too large for his body, illusion, his cloak and his breastplate hid it for the most part, but melzan had seen him without the illusion or layers.

"Pretty sure it's a human thing."

"Goliaths, halflings... a few others I believe use nicknames," he noticed the wince and put the book to the side.

He stood and moved to stand behind Iliad. He put his hands on the man's shoulders and began to heal him. His fingers massaging in a little while he began to cast the spell. It was the least he could do with Iliad doing the same for them as they slept and rested.

"You should have said you were sore or hurt. From the fight with those water creatures?"

"N-no."

He shook his head, a bit surprised but he didn't fight it. Of course, his illusion would drop for melzan. Not so much drop as seem like a clear layer over the half-orc. He flinched at the touch, expression a little more vulnerable then he intended.

"It's really not a big deal melzan..."

The second time seeing him with his illusion dropped, there was something really strange about him. He was young. Very young for a half-orc. That much was clear, but his facial structure was weird. Less like a human or orc and more, almost elvish maybe?

Melzan whacked the back of Iliad's head. It wasn't hard but still a sign of annoyance.

"You're already just about falling over dead. I don't want to chance anything. Idiot." He grumbled before going back to sit down.

He left his head kinda tilted to the side, left that way from the smack. The half-orc blinked in acceptance, knowing he probably deserved it and didn't bother giving any real reaction.

"I'm not sure the smack brings me any further away from falling over dead tho..."

Melzan rolled his eyes. "I didn't hit you that hard. Barely tapped you with it. But if you're saying you need more healing just because of that I guess it can't be helped. Do you?"

"I think I'm about par at this point..."

He chuckled. "I'm fine melz. Not a bad healer my self you know."

"Then stop forgetting to heal yourself when you're singing those tunes. Besides, I'm a lot better of one than you are and far more successful with it," Melzan stated. Ever the epitome of modesty.

"Uh huh. Whatever you say there bright eyes."

He yawned, laying back against whatever he had been sitting on. He kept strumming, playing his song of rest.

"We'll see how much skill I have when I'm two hundred years old like you."

"I'm barely over a hundred," he pursed his lips a little. He had just become an adult for a Drow not long before. "I thought you weren't going to live as long as I do?"

One of his eyebrows raised as he smirked, knowingly. Then he looked to Nessa and very gently picked her up.

"Why don't you open the hut, we should get them all inside and get whatever rest we can. We have no idea what day will be our last here..."

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Eleint the 2nd 1489

He plucked at the strings. He was constantly doing this. They never sounded right to him, so he would tune each to resonance. Off from a typical lute, six strings either sounding like two too many or not nearly enough for him.

"Ooh, It's a passion, Ooh, you can feel it in the air~"

he more spoke under his breath than sang, but something about it carried. Some subtle magic laced into the sound, something between the strings plucked by those sharp fingernails. Iliad would glance up only a second, not at anything in particular, but as if to pull his head out of what ever world he'd left it in to catch his breath. Face hidden by veil and hood, he'd dive back into it.

Melzan heard the music. He'd been looking over his holy book. Magical music. Making sure his face wasn't visible he got up and followed the tune. Not surprised by Illiad being the musician he chose to listen. Melzan did not attempt to remain unnoticed as he approached.

The drow kept his distance to a few feet away, more out of habit from trying to hide himself from others than actually not wanting to be nearer.

His voice was always strange when he sang, the way it filtered away his strange accent. The musician was strange. Most bards wove their magic with song, and he was clearly capable. Instead he used the same kinda common gestures as any sorcerer. He didn't seem to be enjoying the tool as he played it, leaning against a stump felled some time ago. But it sounded pretty. Chords that didn't seem to be native to this realm.

"Lift your hands and voices, free your minds and join us~ you can feel it in the air~"

He didn't seem to notice melzan's approach. Or, maybe that was why he lifted his head before. Either way it didn't seem for any consequence to him. Actually, melzan would recognize this song, though the elf wouldn't be able to feel the better part of it's magic due to the nature of his race.

When Illiad finished Melzan clapped a few times. His gold eyes glowed under his hood as he tilted his head.

"You don't seem to enjoy your own music. Is there a reason?" Melzan didn't sound like he required an answer, just basic curiosity. "How easily can you play to a new tune?"

"I'm, used to something a bit less, pedestrian I guess?"

He tilted his head, phantom amber eyes of his illusion looking to melzan's. his body language was his emotional indicator. Wrapped up tight and only showing those fake amber eyes.

"I'm absolutely garbage at picking things up like that. I'm not a trained bard."

"I'm certain you are better than you think. Instruments were never something I learned. It's a bit amusing that I'd end up with a goddess who loves music and poetry. It's one of the things I've really enjoyed about the surface," Melzan folded his arms as he thought about what to say next.

The man said he would be garbage, but it might be worth a try. Not to mention Melzan really wasn't sure how to be friendly.  What would a human or another elf do? Probably try to get him to do what they wanted anyway, garbage or no.

"The instrumental part doesn't have many, uh, cords? Notes? I'm a pretty garbage singer so we'll both be bad?" admitting he wasn't good at something, normally that would be ridiculed by his kind as a sign of weakness.

"If you're looking for common ground, you've all ready had me at the aesthetic love."

He smiled up to the drow, motioning to their similar sense of dress. These conversations always amused him. Genuine awkwardness was a treat for him, something he was able to take in often with this group.

Talk of his goddess lifted a sharp eyebrow, not that melzan could see it. He had always been so expressive, hiding behind them. Almost felt naked to be so covered up. He wondered if that would matter to a goddess.

"If you sang melz, I would play with you. Might not be the sound you're looking for but, I will play."

"Common ground? Oh... similarities. It's not as fast as the one you were singing," Melzan had to think about what Illiad had meant.

Melzan didn't understand a few terms in common very well. He knew sarcasm, but joking and slang were something he had to continue working on. Swallowing he nodded and hummed a little tune. When Illiad got it, he began to sing, softly.

Melzan almost felt embarrassed about doing something so useless, but at the same time it warmed him up inside. It was a song that many who worshiped Eilistraee sang, words from their goddess.

((stealing song from dragon age because it fits the lore a bit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dULdG1dGPos ))

When he finished he nodded. "Thank you...."

Plucking along was a simple thing. His notes close enough to what he thought melzan's voice needed more so then what he was look ingredients for. It, was eerie to him how the tone seemed to slowly shift from him. Fingers moving away from the established notes, to find tones more fitting on their own.

Elvish was a strange language for him. Synapses firing off and fussing about then meanings of words as he heard them. Like he was just on the cusp of understanding what they meant. He couldn't help but feel as though he was supposed to know. Elves frustrated him. Would the women who'd brought him into this world have known this song? Would she have sang it to comfort him as a child...

"Any time melz. You should know by now I enjoy spending time with you."

The young man laughed softly behind the illusion.

"You don't need to thank a friend for something like that love."

Melzan narrowed his eyes to figure out if Illiad was being sarcastic or not when he mentioned 'enjoying' spending time with him. Deciding he meant it honestly had his eyes widening in surprise. Soon the Drow looked away, unsure of what to say to those kind remarks. Even his old 'friends' did not regard him in such a manner. Not to mention no other Drow would be caught dead saying some of those things. It made him nervous and uneasy but Melzan took a deep breath and tried to ease his tensed shoulders.

"Sit melzan, it's alright to relax."

He yawned softly in response to the fries narrowing golden eyes. Atreyu really didn't get the ridgedness of it all. Expressing little things like that, it was simple and clean. Opening up without giving any ground or taking any loss. He's save the worry and stress for the real secrets. Just bury them all under open sentiment.

"You gotta teach me how to speak with you to avoid those reactions."

After taking a moment to consider the offer he moved to sit with Illiad. Relaxing is not something a Drow did easily. Most of their training built around paranoia and distrust didn't help the matter.

"What do you mean? Some of your words are..." he rubbed one of his hands with the other, thumb running over his palm as the right word struggled to find it's way out.  'Nice', 'Startling', 'untrustworthy', 'sarcastic', 'strange', 'affectionate' ... Finally he decided on a word. "Unexpected."

"I don't think the way every one else does."

He blinked, tilting his head.

"I don't really think much before I speak either. Just kinda blurt of something almost ok and steer into the current..."

Melzan let out a single laugh at remembering how Illiad had acted with people so far. The man certainly did not have a way with words as much as he had a way with song and music.

"The things you say are not bad they are just not things I am used to hearing. At all. Even the term of endearment. No one has ever referred to me as such and there's not such a word in my original language so when I actually realized what you were calling me meant I thought you might be being literal or sarcastic. I'm still a bit new to common and the surface. It's hard when the language has a meaning for words, but sometimes the word might not mean what the person meant to say, but it does anyway," Melzan shrugged. "Outside of other drow and those I met in the Underdark, I've no experience with others."

"Well, no pleasant ones."

He tilted his head, blinking again as he listened. He hadn't heard melzan say, half as much in one a single session.

"It's, words can be frustrating alright? People are a pain in the ass. They take things, the wrong way and... you should see me work when I don't care about who I'm speaking to or, wether or not someone I love is listening."

He sighed.

"I've never known another drow. You're my introduction. I promise that it hasn't been a bad one."

"You should not take my interaction as normal drow behavior, trust me. Most Drow would slit your throats as you slept. Manipulate you into killing those you care about. Just in general do their best to cause you the most pain they possibly could before killing you," Melzan was tense again as he thought about his time in his homeland. He'd still been a 'youth' when he was taken into the male band of traders/rebels.

Atreyu's hand found its self patting melzan's head, not looking over or saying anything for a moment.

"I keep meeting people from from terrible cultures. People who have escaped for what ever reasons."

He frowned, not taking his hand away, just gently patting.

"There are a lot of terrible people. Lot of terrible worlds and cultures. Even people who are at peace are terrible. Every single person I've ever met is the same in chains."

The hand patting his head startled Melzan and it took a lot of control not to jerk away. He held his hands together so tightly they trembled before he convinced himself that it was a regular gesture. He knew that patting a persons shoulder or hand was a thing, but not the head. It didn't hurt, or feel upsetting, just new.

"I think when it comes to cruelty demons may be the only ones out there worse than the Drow... But I have not been over the entire world so, that might be wrong. I've never known another race that openly accepts slaughtering and torturing their own families. Children, babies and all. Sometimes just for 'fun'," Melzan looked around to make sure there weren't any others that may be startled by his appearance. Satisfied he reached up and let his hood fall back and uncovered his face.

"Well, honestly, that is... uh, a really fucking stupid way to do things."

He nodded, pulling his hand back and putting his weight on melzan's shoulder. He was, too light. Sickly light for a human man, even more for a half orc. It might have even be weird to see him without food in his mouth.

"I know what it's like to be under to influence of an evil deity."

"... There's something more wrong with you than you let on. You're keeping it from everyone. Not just what you are. I realize you don't want people to know. Cursed or worse. Constant need to eat. The so thin you probably should be dead appearance, although I'm not sure how much of that is for show," Melzan took in a deep breath and looked at him before smiling a little. "You're pretty fucked up, friend. Guess that's why we all actually are getting along. All fucked up in our own ways. Also, I'm using that word correctly? It's a vulgar common word used to emphasize things, correct?"

"It's just very lewd to keep saying while we're so close to each other."

He lied casually. Deflection, swerve and bob and duck and deflect. He was an excellent liar.

"Yeah, we're all a mess huh? I'm just a hungry guy trying to keep a pretty girl safe. Like a cliche story."

"Lewd?" Melzan thought about that and what they normally thought was 'lewd' on the surface. His skin around his cheeks darkened ever so slightly, hardly enough to even be noticeable. "Yes. We are a mess. I've never really read stories like that. So this is all kind of new. Also, you're not just a hungry guy. That 'ritual' you do in the morning is not for meditation or worship." Melzan poked the man in the chest. "And I bet it has something to do with your missing shadow and how much you care for Nessa. I like mysteries, and I don't forget about them. Just because you wont tell me or try to avoid it, doesn't mean I'm going to completely drop the issue. I can have patience."

"Well, you'll out live me love. So I just gotta wait till I drop."

He chuckles, finishing his ritual and creating his dome of space around them. Taking a breath, he released the glamour that was masking him and pulled his hood back.

"I have a lot of answers, all of them are lies and I really hope you don't hate me for it. Maybe some time I'll tell you about the derst house where I met her."

"This really does seem a lot like home sometimes," Melzan smiled and didn't seem bothered by the fact that they would be lies. "Your business is your business. I'm not curious about how you met Nessa, more I'm curious about what's going on with you. As a healer, it worries me. I want to help you, but I don't know how." Melzan admitted and looked at Illiad. "Also, we all might die. I'll only outlive you if no one kills me first. Which, considering everything, may be likely. I have a lot of people who hate me. A lot."

"I intend to keep you alive remember?"

He yawned and stretched, taking his weight off of melzan. The half orc was, a definite change from the false human who had just been sitting with the drow. Olive skin, and a broad scar across his face. His orcish features were minimal. Sharp canines, but hardly the tusks one expected to see, a more animalistic nose, a long jagged ears. His left eye was, beast like. A sharp green iris, and blade strip of black at it's centre. Orcish. His right however, wasn't so much an eye as it was a Maroon coloured orb almost glowing.

"I mentioned the house because it was a mystery. Haunted and evil, but i pieced together it's story. I like stories."

He shrugged, pulling the cloak off, no one else could enter the hut so, he had his privacy. His breast plate would take a moment.

"If you're concerned about my health then you can look me over."

"Maybe I'll have to look into it later but haunted houses aren't so mysterious most of the time. Also, yes, I do hope you can keep me alive," he watched Illiad and tried to figure out if he'd put on weight with the disguise down.

He was a bit surprised that they were in his hut with such privacy without the others. Most of the time Illiad summoned the hut when it was time to sleep for all of them. At the same time when the half-orc began to take off his breastplate it made more sense.  This apparently was something that Milo, Nessa, and Sam had no knowledge of.

"You really do trust me," Melzan said out loud more to himself than to Illiad. "I - uh... I'll do my best not to um... betray it..." he'd heard other people say that and it felt odd, but right to admit.

If anything, the breast plate and the layers of clothing under played exactly how under weight he was. Under the plate he wore a simple loose shirt. Something a sailor might wear. He was tall, inches taller out side of the illusion, and his shoulders were broad the way one would expect a half orc to be. But his body was thin, and lithe, too thin. He, didn't look sickly, in fact his physical constitution was well above average. Atreyu was just thin.

"You'd be surprised how often I tell the truth. Like I said, I trust you."

He flicked his wrist, and a crossbow bolt popped into existence. He tossed it onto the cloak.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, but I am getting better, slowly."

Melzan looked at the bolt then back to illiad. So this man wanted him to keep even more secretes. Not that he couldn't, but Melzan wasn't sure how the other team members would react to that once he heard about it.

"Getting better slowly is a good thing at least." Melzan nodded.

The bolt was no secret from the others. Just a means of defence in case of being unarmed. Defence that could sting a good deal more then cantrips. Save the dagger in his boot that he was just about to toss onto the cloak, he was completely unarmed.

"People have secrets. Mine are to protect nessa and my self. Pretty soon it won't matter."

"My health doesn't matter for now. I can still fight, I can skill cast, and I can still lie. Every other thing is extra melzan."

Melzan nodded. Though he moved to look over Illiad.

"Your health might not matter now, but that could change. It's very, very easy for someone to go from sickly to bed ridden. Granted I was wrong and you look even more starved now."

He looked up at the scar on Illiad's face and wondered how he survived from that. Likely friends or a healer. Maybe he didn't survive and a cleric or someone revived him. Melzan had his own scars, but nothing quite as severe, at least he didn't think so. Then again no one ever saw  his scars. Even with other he only uncovered his face. His gloves stayed on, and basically everything he wore stayed on. Nothing else exposed but his face. Elf like features, high cheek bones, pointed ears although they were shorter than surface elf ears. Dark, almost blue skin, and silvery white hair.

-insert insight check of 18-

He's not lying about keeping secrets to protect himself and nessa.

He definitely looks worse without his illusion up.

And you get the idea that he has no fucking idea what's going on with his body, or if he is getting better

Melzan frowned. He reached out and paused before touching Iliad's arm. He wasn't sure if the half orc wanted him to try and figure this all out.

Atreyu stretched, taking a sip from the ewer he kept on his hip. How he wasn't always completely sloshed was dizzying. His half orc physiology was probably the only thing keeping him... standing anyway. He didn't flinch as melzan touched him, actually, almost. It had been awhile since anyone actually touched him. He took another sip, eyes shifting to the drow's. "Thirsty melz?"

"... I suppose," he nodded. "Do you want to figure this all out? I'm not promising that i can, but i can at least try," he would take the ewer when offered.

"No? Maybe?" He shrugged, holding the glorified wine jug out. It, was pretty, made of some brassy metal, adorned with images of wolves and deers and other forest animals dancing about in relief. It, felt as though it was half full, liquid swishing inside, but if melzan were to look, it would be empty. "Just take a sip, it's weird but it pours." The wine it's self was, a delightful pink fizzy liquid, deliciously sweet and very strong. As likely to catch a person off guard with hiccups as alcohol content.

Melzan was caught off guard slightly. The hiccups started soon after his drink. He couldn't cast spells hiccuping like that. During on hiccup he glared a little at Iliad.

Then, he removed one of his gloves and reached to touch his arm. A maybewas as good as a yes he figured.

He smiles playfully as the hiccups started, a genuine and abruptly handsome smile. He shook it off after a moment with a yawn.

"Don't, beat yourself up if you can't do anything love."

"I won't. Just means i have to research more."

Melzan frowned as he realized that there wasn’t much he could do. The curse was strong and out of his power, but he could at least assist with the pain or the side effects of the curse. 

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Eleint the 1st 1489

It’s been a long while since I last wrote about what’s happening with me. Can only hope that my path is true. Defeated a shadow dragon and two rather powerful Thayans. This group definitely runs into a great amount of trouble.

A few days have passed since we traveled to Secomber. I’m unsure about this group, or why my Goddess would want me here. At first, I thought they were fools. Now they’re starting to remind me of those I traveled with in the Underdark for so long. They all went their separate ways once we reached the surface. I lost touch with them. Sometimes I almost miss them. They were the first ‘friends’ I’ve had. 

One of these new traveling companions does a ritual every morning. Illiad. The ritual itself does not seem to do anything itself, but I think it might have to do with what he showed me or how he has no shadow. He’s shown me more, how to phrase it... Affection? than anyone else. Even calls me ‘love’ as a ‘term of endearment'. For a while, he’s been using that, but I must admit, I did now care enough about what they were saying to pay that much attention. He has a bit of brashness and is definitely not the best at expressing his meanings to others. I saved us from being disemboweled by dwarves. The fool almost insulted a dwarf’s craftsmanship. 

Surprisingly enough said dwarf leader knows what I am and is tolerant. Tolerant is definitely the best word.

He has a strong urge to protect the little Redhaired halfling, who Ellana has bonded with, Nessa. Ellana likes her, probably a female and female thing. I haven’t done the ritual for closeness and I haven’t displeased Eilistraee in a while so maybe she was craving a bit of same-gendered company? Ellana also likes cats so I guess that makes sense as well. There were so many things that happened that I believe wouldn’t be safe to record in this journal. 

Nessa has a thing for gold, and I’ve no experience really with Halflings so I’m unsure if this is because she is a halfling or because she really likes gold. She is tougher than she looks and has a thing for little animals and larger ones. She’s been through a lot. Had nightmares and is so worried about things out of her control. Nessa may need some guidance in ways I can’t comprehend, but I am trying. What I’ve learned through prior companions, I’m attempting to use. Nessa even smiled at me a few times and patted my hand. 

These are good people.

Though I’m a bit uneasy with the Necromancer and his gnome. The man asks me questions or writes in his book about me. Possibly drawings? It’s strange, but he has his uses so it should be alright for now. I am definitely going to be keeping my eye on him. I’m rather positive he’s not the one Eilistraee wants me to bring to worship. 

It most likely is the Halfling. The little one has special things happen during the full moon, female, and prefers the night. I will see if she wishes to look over the holy book of Eilistraee when we are sure it’s safe. 

Now we have to worry about a vampire lord. He sounds rather terrifying. If not for my ring, I’d be more frightened. Still, the idea of going into another plane of existence is not appealing. It’s what I’m meant to do though and they need me. I imagine this is just one more step in what Eilistraee has planned. 

Eilistraee stated one of these in the party is open to her. Milo is definitely strongly devoted to his own God. Samuel doesn’t seem the type. Nessa does not seem to have a god or goddess she follows. Illiad, though claims devotion, does not seem to actually believe in anything. My gut tells me it must be one of those two, and though Nessa seems the best candidate, Illiad is just the type of person Eillistraee cares for. I cannot state in here why.  

Illiad also gave me a ‘hug’ and earlier attempted to give me a parasol. This follows those ‘affection’ things I’ve seen people do. The hug felt nice and was surprisingly stressful. I’m not used to letting anyone that close. Too easy to stab a person in the back from that distance. Secret poison. Arrows. Magical items. Then he said that he trusted me. I’m not sure how to take that. I don’t even think any of my original traveling companions truly trusted me. It may just be his form of reassuring me that me giving him a rather magical sword would not be a foolish choice. Then again, he could also be trying to lower my guard around him as well. 

Milo, though he stutters, he appears to be competent and kind. He would not last in the Underdark. It would destroy him. Which is no insult, though some might think it is. When he found out who I worshiped and who I am, he began to act a little worried and more cautious around me. I’m not one to be offended by such things. In fact, I encourage such. 

So now we are going to continue our journey with the looming fear of when we’ll be picked up by that vampire. If Nessa is a possible worshiper of Eilistraee, I need to make sure to keep her alive. It is my duty. 

Also, they just gave me a staff. It looks incredibly creepy but is also very powerful. It’s something that is now grouped in with my cloak, ring, and armor as magical items. Truly, since I left my items with my prior party, I have managed to come across and be given many wonderful items. 

This could end up being a good thing, but I’m worried about holding hope for such. 

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Adventures in Faerun

For weeks nightmares of shadow dragons and Thayans woke Melzan from his meditation. Finally, a clear image of travelers in front of a fire came. Eilistraee walked to him and smiled. Her naked form almost making Melzan look away. She came up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek before looking in the direction of the figures at the fire. 

“One of them is open to me. You need to show them who I am. Bring him to have faith in me,” she purred and then the flames died out and the people were gone. 

A large dragon roared to the side and Melzan turned his head quickly and saw the dragon and a crystal clear image of a man. 

“You must kill that evil man. He’s done things worse than even worshipers of my mother. If you find them,” she motioned back to the campfire which existed again. “You will be in the right position to kill our enemy. Help them, rid this world of these evil people… Go now.”

Melzan gasped and came out of his meditation. Immediately, he got up and began to pack his bags to go on his journey. 

“Ellana, we have to go,” he said softly and she moved to lay inside his hood, curled up in his long soft hair. 

Completely covered he headed out. He only paused to eat, meditate, and also other necessary actions. Someone managed to transport him closer to his destination and soon he only had a few more days before he would meet these new people. No doubt they weren’t Drow. Realizing he shouldn’t just expose himself due to the mistrust it would bring, he stayed away from them for most of the night. 

Without trying to be stealthy, he approached. 

Sure enough, they spotted him. All of them tensed up and began to chat. Some appeared to ready their weapons. One of the shadowed figures disappeared, or maybe they weren’t even there to begin with? He tilted his head and focused more on them. Due to the campfire their faces and bodies were completely in shadow. Finally, they settled realizing he wasn’t whoever they were expecting. Melzan raised his hands to show he was not arming himself and meant to come in peace.

“Well met,” Melzan said softly. 

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” one of the men started. 

To Melzan they all looked skinny. He’d seen wizards with more muscle on them and it worried him. Could they really be the people his Goddess wanted him to help? 

“Will you remove your hood?” another to the side asked. 

“I’m here to fight. With you. To assist you in your fight against the Thayan wizard or sorcerer and a dragon. The message for me to come wasn’t really clear,” then he turned to the man who asked him to remove his hood. “You don’t want me to do that. It would be worse than me leaving it on.”

For a while, they appeared to think about it. 

“May I approach?” Melzan asked, his hands still in the air. “Sit with you by the fire?”

“It’s rude not to remove your hood,” the man to the side of the fire asked. 

“No.” Melzan stated. 

“Yes, come and join us. Jerky?” a man asked holding out a piece. 

Melzan held a hand up to pass on eating it. If he removed his lower face mask they’d all know who he was. 

“I”m iliad, this is milo, Samuel, and Igor,” iliad said motioning to each person as he introduced them. “We’re currently waiting.”

“W-we’re su-supposed to just be us. He w-wont like it if there are more here,” the stutter and fear in his voice almost made Melzan smile. 

He’d be so easy to fight and- No. Melzan can’t do something like that. He wasn’t Graz'zt’s anymore. 

“Yeah, you’re right. You three might need to make yourselves scarce.”

Melzan had no reason to argue so he nodded and wandered back to a tree where he came from. While waiting for the dragon Melzan observed them. The group appeared scared in general. Especially when the Thay finally showed up. 

“Hello, oh where’s your little friend, Nessa” The Thay asked approaching, but stopping about thirty feet away. 

“She got arrested. They thought she murdered someone,” was that one Milo Melzan wondered? Or was that Iliad?

“Good, it worked,” the man laughed. “Why don’t your new friends come out? You over there.” He looked directly at Melzan which made him shudder a little. Since he’d been spotted there remained no reason for him to hide. “Now I hope we can resolve this civilized. You don’t approach within five feet or I will consider it a threat. You should leave now, get out of here.”

“What do you mean it worked?” 

“Me, I took her form and killed someone. I’m glad. I had a little bit of worry that it wouldn’t work, but she’ll be there when we destroy that tribe now.” The man said. 

Melzan had no idea who this Nessa was. 

“We-we’ll le’leave w-when you all get the f-fuck out,” the stuttering man tried to be tough. 

“You all are weak. You don’t want to stay here and-” he lookd down at a little pebble that got kicked towards him. “Are you really going to do this? THreaten me? I can summon the dragon here if you want to die so bad.”

“We don’t want to do that. We’re not going to go unless you go.”

“No one has to die here,” the Thayan said. 

“Yes they do,” Melzan said and pulled out his sword. “You do.” 

“Come on, we can do this peacefully. You leave. We leave.”

Melzan turned to them. “You cowards.”

At around that point, the shambling gnome began slapping the image of the Thayan. 

“I told you any actions like that would be considered threats,” the image disappeared. 

So his new allies could see Melzan cast Dancing Light. Suddenly nearly fifteen shadows began charging at the group. Melzan managed to handle his own, and no one appeared to get too badly injured. A little red haired halfling also appeared. That must have been Nessa Melzan realized. 

A roar in the background was startling. Once the shades were gone, another roar sounded. Closer this time. 

Frost began to cover all of Melzan’s form. Everyone else prepared for the dragon. A glowing red gem fell from the sky and the moment it hit the ground a fire elemental roared loose. The blaze came up in front of Milo. The man reacted bravely and hit the elemental at the cost of his own skin. Everyone began to blast it, while also keeping their distance. 

A scream rang out “I GAVE YOU A CHANCE TO LEAVE! Now you will DIE”

The dragon pulled back before dark flames burned across the area, killing the the elemental and the human dropped down unconscious, burned even more than usual. 

Melzan and Nessa appeared to hurry towards the felled man. Magical chains refrained them, they couldn’t budge an inch. 

This caused  Melzan to turn and glare at the wizard. The man who offered the food stayed in front of the dragon barely breathing. It was a miracle he even stayed on his feet. 

Ellana hurried to Melzan and tapped him to dispel the hold magic and flew to Milo. She hugged his neck as best she could and Melzan felt his power drain a little. Yet the man opened his eyes. That’s what he’d intended. Turning back to the wizard he fired his eldritch blast. 

The wizard of the group began to fling spells at the dragon as quickly as they could. 

The Halfling continued to struggle. Ellana, the little pixie, held tightly to Milo as the man took cover behind a large rock. Iliad attempted to drink something, but the dragon took the opportunity to hit him. 

These people were useless and Melzan could hardly believe what he had to do. Rushing up he moved and spent his last large power to place his hands on Iliad and heal the man’s damage. Sure enough, he left Melzan to the dragon’s mercy. He cursed in undercommon. 

Melzan hurried to do his best to get out of the way. Those claws hurt even if they barely hit them. Each attack froze the dragon’s claws and when it placed it’s foot back down the finger would shatter and send a huge shock of cold up the dragon’s body. The dragon had a limp  now at least. When the blond, Milo? came back out from around the rock he took to one side of the dragon. Iliad even went to stand back in front of the dragon. 

Quickly, Melzan moved to the side of the dragon, out of the way of any sort of breath spell. 

The halfling finally broke free and a giant beam of light appeared pushing down the dragon and only grazing the Thayan’s shoulder. It continued to push it down, weakening it. 

Iliad got caught in a darkness the dragon exhaled and when it began to fade Melzan noticed him back on the ground dying. Ellana rushed to him and touched his cheek to heal the man. Sure enough his eyes opened and when the dragon got distracted Iliad rushed as far away as possible. 

Melzan continued to attack the dragon, hitting through the scales and breaking through. Milo began to hit the dragon some more as well. If they could kill the pet the wizard wouldn’t be difficult to kill at all. The dragon fell over dead. Once again the wizard attacked, chilling Melzan’s should to the core. He almost lost his footing as the skeletal hand dug its bony fingers into his shoulder. 

The thayan screamed. “LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS AND WALK SOUTH FOR A DAY”

THe order didn’t hit Melzan or Ellana, but the others dropped their weapons and began to walk to the south. He couldn’t help them, but Ellana could. 

He rushed to follow the Thayan as he tried to fly away. The mage hit him with a few more magic missiles making the man lose a bit of flying height. It allowed Melzan to hit him even harder, throwing spell after spell. 

Ellana managed to restrain Nessa and Milo before hurrying to go and try and prick Iliad to end the spell using pain. The man used his own spells to attempt to break MIlo out of the spell, but not Nessa. The halfling broke through the entangling roots and the human had to rush after her. The halfling began to dodge or stumble and the human just couldn’t hit her to snap her out of the command. 

The Thayan fell from the sky finally, landing and snapping his neck as his fly spell ended. Melzan panted a bit and pressed a hand against the rotting flesh he would have to heal from the Thayan’s spells but for now he needed to make sure the man was dead and if he had anything on him. 

A staff, didn’t need. A set of magical armor, but they might not be as good as his own. They felt very similar to his detect magic. A cloak he put on automatically. Then he found the other items, which he should share. They did act as physical shields for him a few times. They deserved something. Not the Grimoire though. Melzan took that and with his body aching, sat down and began to look through it. Ellana cooed a bit and flew back once she’d successfully brought Iliad out of the suggestion spell. She moved up under his hood and cuddled up in his soft hair again. 

It made him smile. 

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Chapter 8 Horrors and Rot

Light footsteps, but footsteps all the same. Without opening his eyes Gutrick moved his hand slowly to his rapier. As the steps grew louder he could tell that it must be an elf considering how quiet and close they were. Not someone trying to be overly quiet so likely no intention of harming him, but just in case…

In a swift movement, Gutrick got to his feet and his rapier came out in a flash. The tip of the rapier rested on a neck, white hair falling to either side of it. It might not be the actual Drow standing before him, possibly possessed by those spores still. The survival tactic of caution coming forward. Melzan stopped walking, placing the majority of his weight on his leading leg. Both of his hands moved to show he carried no weapon.

“I’m not dumb enough to think you’re harmless just without your mace, Melzan,” Gutrick said as he kept his sights focused on the movement of Melzan’s lips, the corners raising just a tiny bit.

Clerics cast most of their spells with verbal commands and touch. Gutrick’s eyes looked down at the far shorter male and noticed one of his eyebrows quirk up and then the Elf shrugged his shoulders. No words came from him as he just stood there, waiting. Gutrick continued to stand there a bit longer. Long enough it caused Melzan to look down at the blade and then back up. Such an easily controlled race. “Any desire to dance? Sing?” Gutrick finally spoke. “If you do..” “If I ever dance like that, I hope you kill me. Really, Serith was an embarrassment. I can dance far better, but prefer to do so with others,” it appeared to be truth. The inflection made it clear that he didn't seem to be talking about dancing. “If you don't mind, as much as I enjoy discussing things at sword point, we've had better conversations without such-”

Gutrick pushed the rapier forward, making it clear who held the terms of their exchange. Blood formed a drop at the end of the metal. Once Gutrick saw a slight amount of fear in the dark Elf’s eyes he pulled the rapier back. Incredibly easy to establish command with the Drow and make sure he understood his place. Melzan reached up to trace a finger along the tiny injury.

“I will. There are a few things we need to speak about. What those down here consider valuable and also there is a place that appears unusual,” Gutrick did not speak questions, instead commanded information.

Melzan appeared unphased overall by the puncture. Very adept at not being the highest on the food chain clearly displayed with his indifference to his bleeding neck. The blood almost stopping entirely by this point. If they did not listened to priestesses above all else and large amounts of them weren’t attempting to murder Gutrick, these Drow could end up being an asset under the fighter’s rule. Especially with how well trained some of them appeared to be. If Melzan’s compliance of position could be used as an indication, there could be many stronger than the cleric.

“Well, a lot of stuff from the surface would be exceptionally valuable here. Skins, teeth, and bones of certain beasts. What is valuable here is not that much different than what will be valued up there,” Melzan didn’t roll his eyes for this conversation, realizing Gutrick did not have much patience. Smart Elf. “What unusual thing are you talking about? I’m rather sure the dancing mushrooms and humanoids’ heads exploding to grow fungus is exceptionally unusual about this place.”

Gutrick waved a hand in dismissal at the mention of what they’d already encountered. Then he motioned for Melzan to head back up to the Circle of Masters. Now came the eye roll in response to the non-verbal instruction. Though he didn’t seem to like being bossed around he understood the hierarchy and so far guessed Gutrick’s intentions and meanings surprisingly well. Without another word Melzan followed the order and went up first.

“I already healed the idiot half-Elf. I figured you would have told me to do so. A useful pawn and all. To be honest, being alive without being the undead sort of alive was not something I expected. Definitely means I made the correct choice,” Melzan spoke and slightly peeked over his shoulder at Gutrick.

Gutrick did not feel Melzan’s statements required a response and continued after him.

“The others are awake too. The… iblith filled me in on what happened after you killed that creature. Our ‘guide’ is still preparing to leave. There are some Kuo-Toa traders in the grove so some of the Myconids are busy buying wears. So where is this ‘unusual place’?” Melzan finally asked as he moved out onto the paths between the pools of water.

Gutrick turned his head to look at the large skull. His attention focused back on the Drow and he waited. White brows knit together in concentration as he looked where Gutrick motioned him to.

“I”m not sure. I recognize such a thing, but I can’t place it,” Melzan admitted in a rather low voice. The head injury might have caused a bit of memory lapse from what Gutrick could tell. Gold eyes focused on him. “We’re going to be going to investigate it? That worked very well yesterday.”

For a moment Gutrick almost felt like he would need to set the Drow back in his place once more. Twice in one day felt like far too much independence, but at the same time out of all of them, the dark-skinned pointy eared cleric remained the most useful when considering the environment and languages.

“Fine. I’ll gather the others,” the elf said without any prompting needed.

Attitude, but obedience. Almost reminded him of a few of his lieutenants. Some attitude could keep things fun as long as the elf didn’t put up too many arguments. His general disdain of the other members of the group might prove troublesome. Perhaps he could work something out to get him and the female to cooperate. If the woman cooperated no doubt the half-elf would follow suit. Though a decent fighter, his own desires would end up getting him killed if he didn’t get over it soon.

Perhaps they should just leave, but the large skull like structure kept pulling his attention. Gutrick heard the others approach and began to walk towards the path leading down from the Circle of Masters. They would follow, he felt confident they already recognized him as their leader. Even the giant Quaggoth followed his rule without question.

“Well, I’m just saying, we have a lot in common…” came the annoying voice as the elves began to catch up. The half-Elf still trying to get sweet with the female. “We’re going to be stuck here a long time and we might not live through this, or even through the next five minutes.”

“Or in your case the next two if you keep talking about such things,” Sha’leena said with a smooth voice, her lips turning up into a pleasant smile “Though if you wish to be separated from your innards then I will happily comply with your wishes.”

Tyrnan went a little pale and rubbed the back of his neck a bit as they continued walking, but smartly shut his mouth. Gutrick looked back at them only for a moment, taking in the half-Elf’s worried appearance and the Drow’s impressed look. Likely Sha’leena acted a lot more like Melzan’s own people than her’s through stereotypical actions. If she kept it up there wouldn’t be a large amount of convincing to get Melzan to work with her as well without prompting. Prompting took time and effort that could mean the difference between a bandage and healing magic being necessary.

Twenty minutes of blissful silence, until - “So, why are you helping us?” Tyrnan focused his questions to Melzan.

The dark Elf ignored him.

“Did the blow to the head do something to your hearing? You seemed to be able to tell us to do things, but other than that you don’t talk to us,” Tyrnan complained a bit annoyed. “I mean, I know you’re one of the Drow, but this all doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Melzan’s declaration made Gutrick pause. He didn’t want to kill Tyrnan, but Melzan held more value in his plans than the half-Elf and he couldn’t risk them getting too injured in a fight. Gutrick also didn’t consider Melzan’s claims false.

“You’re an asshole…” Tyrnan grumbled a little, Melzan starting to turn and walk again. “Okay, I like talking. We got tall, silent, and skull-wearing Gutrick. Sexy, fine, Sha’leena. Giant white furball with claws. Then a murderous dark elf who only talks to the guy who wears the skull, which shouldn’t really be surprising, who is a complete asshole.”

Things appeared to have worked out, which Gutrick took as a sign to continue on. Tyrnan didn’t seem to be following them, just glaring at the back of Melzan’s head. Not hearing the extra set of foot following Melzan stopped and looked at the half-Elf.

“Were you still talking? Though I could care less, Mr. ‘skull-wearing’ thinks you’re useful, so do try your best to keep up,” then the Drow turned back and continued after Gutrick.

Tyrnan let out a bit of a growl, but started walking again. That individuality didn’t ruin anything yet, so the half-Elf could stay alive for now, Gutrick decided. Though he made a note not to let Melzan and Tyrnan spend too much time together. The cleric would get himself killed if his skills thus far were any sign of his fighting talent. Healing came easy enough to the dark Elf, but so far he never really did much with that mace of his. Some training might be required.

They managed to get to the skull with no real issues appearing. The Prince looked at it and took a few steps back while Tyrnan did the same.

“Um, I’m going to wait back here. I don’t really feel like going into the dead skull of a giant-like creature that looks like how Serith died,” Tyrnan put a hand up and backed up even more. “I’ll wait for you all.”

So be it. If he wished to wait then the coward could wait. Gutrick proceeded into the skull and looked around. Melzan provided a dim light as he entered. They traveled a bit deeper, wary of what could be around. Then the light didn’t continue onward, but stopped. Turning back to Melzan Gutrick found that he and the female Elf were frozen with their eyes locked on something. Turning his own eyes up the horror that gripped Gutrick down to the marrow of his bones felt like nothing he’d experienced in all his life. The running steps brought him out of the grip and he turned and ran. Both elves were rushing out ahead of him and they didn’t even stop outside, but continued onward for a good half-mile.

At some point Tyrnan and Prince caught up with them looking incredibly concerned. Gutrick looked to the two and shook his head when they opened their mouths to ask. Even thinking back to it caused his blood to run cold. It didn’t feel right in the slightest. Clenching his fists, Gutrick almost felt a bit of shame letting such a fear controlling him.

“We need to leave,” Melzan said, gasping a bit for breath. “That was… by the gods that was…”

Seeing the Drow so completely unsettled made the fear in Gutrick stick to his stomach like old gruel. Not that he’d show it.

“Let’s get moving. Whatever that is it doesn’t seem like it’s something we should be anywhere near right now. Move,” Gutrick ordered while keeping his voice level.

The fear would dissipate after a short while longer. Though at the same time he felt a bit strange. Likely the lack of food. Grabbing some edible mushrooms on their way out would be far more than just necessary. Now that they had the bag they would be able to store more than enough to last them for days. For a moment he paused and looked back at the skull. Considering everything, they might be back.

They momentarily stopped at the Circle of Masters and gathered their guide and the supplies that were left for them.

“So are you guys going to tell-” Tyrnan started, but soon got interrupted.

“No,” Melzan said, with a firmness that one would not expect. “We’re leaving. That’s that.”

Gutrick couldn’t argue with the point and motioned for the little Myconid to lead the way.

“What are we going to call this one?” Tyrnan braved asking as they reached the exit on the opposite side from where they entered Neverlight Grove. “I think we should name him Waffles. I mean, his head does have those little dips and they look kind of square.”

Silence.

“Waffles it is!” he grinned and continued on, pausing when he noticed a Dwarf just off to the side.

The hairy fellow looked up at the group and eyes widened in surprise. Lifting a finger to point, he slowly moved it to point at each person, mumbling a little bit to himself. Though when he got to Melzan he narrowed his eyes a little.

“Where ye all heading?” the dwarf didn’t seem threatening as he put his hand back down.

“The surface,” Tyrnan responded before anyone else could admit it.

“Ah, aye, me too. Seem to have lost me way though. The company ye keep isn’t really the best, but if you’re heading there I’d be glad to join your group,” for a Dwarf his accent really didn’t seem very heavy. “Be thankful for it actually. I’m a good shot with a bow, and I’m guessing most of ye don’t know some of the languages. Experienced trader with some of the outposts, but never really been this deep before.”

Gutrick didn’t even need to look to know Melzan rolled his eyes at that. Thinking it over, they did have many languages between them, but he doubted the dark elf knew any dwarvish. No doubt this deep under ground they’d run into at least a few more at some point.

“Very well. You do anything suspicious and we will kill you,” Gutrick turned to follow after the bouncing toadstool. Tyrnan paused and smiled at the dwarf. “Nothing personal. We’ve just seen too many people’s heads explode after they behaved funny. I’m Tyrnan. That’s Waffle. Gutrick is the one in the bird mask. Prince Darendil, we all just call him Prince, though. Finally Sha’leena.”

It seemed he’d missed Melzan or didn’t mention him on purpose. Gutrick figured the lack of reaction meant the Drow didn’t really care much about being left out of the introductions.

“Brek,” the Dwarf said and chuckled as he too began to walk with them. “You’ll have to tell me the story. That certainly sounds like it may have been quite fun.”

Even Gutrick rolled his eyes as Tyrnan began to explain the grove and the spores, painting himself as the ‘hero’ of the tale. After Tyrnan finished, only lying about maybe three-quarters of the events, Brek began to tell his own far truthful story of his trade routes with the Kuo-Toa. Gutrick considered that for a moment and realized this Dwarf might be more useful to them than originally thought. A good, established trader would make purchases that much easier when they arrived at the next city.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Chapter 7 Talking Fungus

Sha’leena began her rest in a trance, sitting on the ground, legs crossed. Apparently she needed to recuperate from the fight. Knowing elves she likely went over her mistakes and how the battle could have gone better. Her hands rested on the hilts of her blades still ready to fight if the need arose. Healthy paranoia in these parts wouldn’t be a terrible idea. With his shoulder back in place, Gutrick moved to search the corpses and around the room.

There weren’t many things that likely wouldn’t be worth selling or trading. His experience with what might be considered valuable in the Underdark remained minimal. The dark Elf could likely inform him of the currencies upon awakening. Nothing of obvious practical means could be found on most of the corpses. Then he began to examine the body of the drow female and her wears.

An expression of slight surprise hidden by the mask moved over his face as he found a rather expensive bag. Taking it off of her he opened it and reached in. The fortunate finding proved to be magical and also held a few items. He pulled out two flasks of some kind of liquid, both a vibrant red. The flasks shouldn’t be able to fit in such a bag due to their size. Yet they did. The magic allowed the bag the ability of holding enormous amounts of goods. Gently he put them back into the pouch, and also stored some of the extra wears the group obtained by those unfortunate enough to cross them.

Scuffling steps brought Gutrick out of his search, hand moving to the hilt of his rapier in preparation. Sha’leena also came out of her trance and to her feet. Vanishing into the shadows almost immediately to prepare a surprise attack.

Myconids, singing and making little chittering noises, entered the chamber from the same spot Yestabrod came in. The small mushroom people paused to look at the corpse of one of their esteemed masters and then over to the bipeds gathered near other dead bipeds. They reasoned, being the insignificant beings they are, that these people were likely the ones who killed the master. Quickly they fled before Gutrick or Sha’leena could restrain them.

Almost immediately after the Myconids started leaving two far larger, hardier looking Myconids entered the open chamber. Over two feet taller than Gutrick, they didn’t seem to be the types to mess around or be punted so easily. Killing them would take effort and time. It wouldn’t be impossible. Those were the basic thoughts until another two moved in from where Yestabrod came from and they had the unfortunately wounded group of companions rather trapped.

One uttered a single word and motioned Gutrick to follow. The language similar to how the Drow talked to the Myconid, but not the same as what he used to talk with Serith. Must be the ‘Undercommon’.

“Are you here to turn me into one of those things?” Gutrick used his rapier to point at one of the corpses, drew a small circle in the air, then raised the blade back to point at the one that uttered a sound. “I decline.”

It tilted what could be reasoned to be its head, who really knew how the physiology of these creatures worked before a few spores came out. In an effort to avoid a fight where a few of them would die, Gutrick took a breath of the spores. Like with Stool or ‘Shroomy’ as Tyrnan called the thing, it allowed this larger Myconid to talk telepathically with those who partook of the spores.

“You are to come with us to Basida in the circle of masters. We are under command not to harm you,” the voice in Gutrick’s head sounded deep and rumbled with no fear, just annoyance.

Gutrick didn’t even glance at Sha’leena or prince as he followed the towering mushrooms towards the back of the chamber, hearing them both fall in line behind him anyway, then up a rather narrow path that lead to the top of the chamber. Taking a closer look it seemed the chamber had no roof at all, just the stone of the cavern above.

Flowing water could be heard, and soon grew louder the farther up they walked. Finally outside of the giant hollow mushroom he could see the three large pools of water. They appeared clear and glowing moss could be seen along the bottoms. To one side he noticed a small waterfall of sorts. The water didn’t fall so much as some hit a rock on the way down and splashed over the smaller Myconids that were singing, and swaying below it. So many ways out, and Gutrick still had two of the companions around if he needed the use of distractions.

With Sha’leena and Prince around, he wouldn’t voice his doubt that these creatures did not possess a way out. Gutrick held no faith in the Myconids being able to assist them beyond pointing them at more danger. With a single look Gutrick could tell the female Elf and Quaggoth remained hopeful that assisting the fungus, the ones not trying to kill them, would eventually lead them to the surface. With as useful as they proved to be, he would allow them to continue to engage in that frivolous hope.

Even a fool can be helpful with the right motivation. The prince took enough attention away from the truly lethal members of the group, namely Gutrick himself, during the last fight. Should the trend of violence continue, Prince's grotesque visage would hopefully continue to take more notice until he got himself killed. Melzan, alternatively, would prove an inconvenience only if he got himself killed. The Drow fell in line voluntarily and appeared to be the type to throw his hand in with the winning side. Gutrick was planning on using the hope of freedom to coax Sha'leena into protecting Melzan until more of his plans could take root.

His options were limited if he wished to keep the extra mouths around. If too many of these 'companions' started thinking for themselves at some point, and if the independence persisted… If worse came to worse he could likely manage on his own until he found a group he could intimidate into falling in line.

Something bumped into his leg, pulling him from thought. For a moment Gutrick paused and turned to look at the smaller Myconids walking near them on the pathway between two of the large pools of water. One of them let out a squeak and toppled into the water upon looking up at Gutrick’s mask while the other fled. Weaklings, most of them not even worth the effort. Whatever was controlling them on the other hand…

Looking back to the large stocks behind, Melzan and Tyrnan were being carried carefully in the arms of the warrior mushrooms. Gutrick then looked at the ones leading them and thought about the many options he possessed to escape if it proved necessary. The appearance of a giant half buried rock in the shape of a skull in the distance sent a very strange and unusual chill through the warrior. Something he might have to ask the Drow, Melzan, about when he woke. It didn’t look ‘right’ out there. Before Gutrick could consider the implications more their guide moved to the side and stopped. Now standing in front of a large, healthy looking Yestabrod, Gutrick waited.

Others also stood there including an Orc, a few gnome appearing creatures, a couple of Goblins, and a half-Orc.The large Myconid looked peaceful, no rotting or putting out a putrid odor. Likely not infected with whatever must have driven the other one mad. Granted the thing still couldn’t be considered more than a sentient fungus. Useless in the larger scheme of things. The Underdark brought out far worse monsters than the surface and stranger beings.

“Apologies for our garden of welcome seems to have not been very welcoming to you,” came the deep, kind voice in their heads. “I am Basida. You are experience fighters, and have seen the plague that has been infecting the Myconid. I hear you wish for information and am willing to provide what I can in turn for your assistance.”

Gutrick stayed silent. There would be no need to respond to a statement. With his mask still lowered he kept a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready. No need to prove the creature right just yet.

“I must know who are to be trusted, who have been infected. So I have a task for you, in return, I can also remove the infectious spores Yestabrod, may she fertilize many generations, placed inside of you. There are so many infected and I’m not able to expose my knowledge of the plague, or will possibly be infected as well. Journey to the other master and if he is infected, deal with it swiftly or return with the information. Must gather those who are loyal to leave this place. Upon your return the spores will be removed and you will receive rewards we have gathered.”

Now that left them little choice. With the cleric unconscious there would be no proving the words of infection wrong. Those spores likely caused the death of Serith. It took a long, long time for them to mature, but being turned into a walking plant being controlled by another unknown being would prove a severe halt in Gutrick’s plans. The old mushroom could be a crafty bastard.

Slowly Gutrick nodded. Sha’leena, the gnomes, Prince, and those with orc blood followed suit. The large ‘master’, Basida, bowed his head and waved an arm slowly in the direction of the other master. For a moment he considered refusal, but Gutrick didn’t know for sure that Melzan had the power to cure such an infection. Due to the hope in the eyes of the female Elf and Prince, he begrudgingly continued. If it proved too troublesome then Gutrick could find another way out of the predicament.

Compared to the other caverns and tunnels the air didn't feel stale or as thin as the rest of the Underdark. The smells ranged from sickeningly sweet to the decay of fresh corpses. Something to easy to get used to, and becoming adapted to the unlit areas. Enough moss grew about the place that there would no doubt be other places with more. Perhaps it could be cultivated. The lack of light the only annoying handicap plaguing Gutrick in the Underdark. It didn’t severely impact his skills or abilities in combat more than he could manage. The glowing lichen did make things less complicated.

Even on the path his boots squished the small plants and mold that grew all around. Though they appeared tiny in comparison to outside of the path. Obviously very well traveled since around all other areas the moss grew inches thick, the mushrooms and other strange plants growing up to reach Gutrick’s knees and even his hips in height.

The lack of sound from Sha’leena would be consider startling for most. Rogues, in the right situations, proved advantageous. This one the silence might just be due to her weight making it so her feet didn’t press the spongy items below her feet down far enough to make noise. Her silence unnecessary due to the barreling drums that were the feet of the Orc and half-Orc. The Orc would need to be killed. Dilated eyes and the swaying causing heavy suspicion that it wouldn’t survive long enough to be useful.

Gnomes would be useful fodder between them. An Orc’s vitals were obvious compared to the living mushrooms with no discernible vulnerabilities on first glance. A swift stab to the exposed neck would put the Orc down. The half-Orc on the other hand possessed a stick. It acted rather protective of the stick.

“What is that?” Gutrick said, his tone commanding a quick answer from the creature.

“It’s Tork’s. Tork’s stick. Bright stuff comes out of it. Hurts things,” Tork said.

Well, that would be interesting to deal with. Maybe a wand, but ‘Tork’ didn’t look like any sort of mage or wizard Gutrick could remember. It made Gutrick realize he should not stand in front of the half-Orc during combat. The gnomes didn’t seem very talkative and all held makeshift weapons of some kind of hard wood. They likely could not understand any languages Gutrick spoke, and he didn’t see the point in talking to them.

It took a couple of hours in order to reach the large swamp-like area. The plants looked darker and the lichen didn’t seem to grow very far in. That could prove to be a -

Quite a few screams from the Gnomes brought attention to a large moving mass in the water to the left of the path. It caused the water to flow up onto the path in some parts. Glowing white eyes peeked out from hanging vines. Leaves covered a good deal of the beast, water sloshed off of its body as it moved up to what appeared to be two thick, bark covered legs. The gnomes began to flee in fear, while the Orc ended up as the first victim. It raised an arm and in shock the Orc didn’t move out of the way. Blood and a mashed version of the Orc stretched between the ground and the fist of the creature. Chunks of flesh and bone falling off in chunks.

Now that wasn’t something a person saw every day.

Bright lights came out of Tork’s ‘stick’. The lights smacked the creature in the face and made it take a step back and groan. It looked towards the half-Orc with rage and used its other arm to stretch out and it wrapped around the magic using Tork. Then it pulled him towards it, then into it’s own body. While it seemed more than occupied with them, Gutrick and Sha’leena burst into motion. Even Prince moved to try and help fight the beast.

Slicing into the thick trunk of a body, Sha’leena had a hard time getting in any solid hits. The outer layer of the creature covered in thick vines. Pounds of the green tendrils fell each time Sha’leena skittered past it before she’d disengage and move away, re-engaging only when Gutrick or Prince drew attention. A bit cowardly, but at least she knew her limits. Some training might her a more acceptable member of the group.

After a stab with his rapier deep into the creature’s flank, Gutrick also had to duck under a large clawed hand going over his head and smacking the creature upside the head. Prince definitely had his uses. Moving from between Prince and the shambling mound, attacks were far easier to make. Let the Quaggoth take the pain. A sickening crunch sound came from the mound as it began to tighten and shrink. A spray of orc blood covered Gutrick and Prince. Prince’s white fur stained and his rage increasing.

The fight didn’t last much longer after that. Taking a deep breath and staring at the dead creature, he wondered what else it might have swallowed up. Using his rapier he moved a bit of the mound’s parts around before deciding nothing inside would be worth the effort. With consideration to the telepathic communication, it would be best to continue instead of trying to lie. Just a discussion with another grotesque compost heap.

Not worrying about being ‘clean’ Gutrick prompted the other two to continue following him to the master who looked over the nursery. All that they would have to consider is if they swayed, or talked about some insane wedding. It took a bit of climbing through the dark area before they reached the rows and rows of tiny Myconids in the ground. The entire area lit with a soft green glow. The Myconid master in the middle swaying and carefully placing rather lovely flowers of some kind on each of the smaller Myconids.

“Greetings,” Gutrick said plainly.

The master looked at him and puffed out some spores. So many spores. Once he took a breath he could hear the massive fungus talk.

“Good day, what brings you here? Are you here for the wedding? It’s going to be so lovely. Zuggtmoy is so beautiful,” the master almost purred and the tone could make an iron stomach churn.

“No. Just saying hello. Now we’re saying goodbye,” Gutrick said plainly and turned to leave with a bit more haste in his steps.

After the mound and Yestabrod avoiding unnecessary fights would be the best course of action. They just received all the information they needed and could get cured before continuing on their way. There wouldn’t be any reason for them left to stay, but those that did decide to Gutrick would leave them behind in a heartbeat.

The trek back to the circle of masters proved less eventful. Definitely not a bad thing. Gutrick took the lead up the narrow path and moved straight to Basida to speak of what they found.

More spores.

If only the damn Drow would wake up, it would save so much time and spare them from the possibly infectious spores. Looking to the side it appeared that the said Drow and half-Elf were still breathing and no more harmed than they were previously.

“So what news have you, warrior?” Basida questioned, unconcerned with the many missing members of the group.

“Infected. No idea how many of the young ones are, but the master there is definitely infected. You might want to clear them out,” Gutrick thought with a matter-of-fact tone.

“I feared this… very well… I will provide aid to you and the other’s of your group. I’m gathering those who will leave with me and we’ll depart come tomorrow. Our home is no longer such,” Basida sadly admitted before moving towards the unconscious forms.

Tyrnan and Melzan were the easiest to treat since they didn’t have the ability to wiggle with discomfort as something expelled from Basida for them to inhale. When this occurred with Sha’leena she wiggled and sneezed a few times. Elven allergies possibly? Gutrick did his best to relax as he received the treatment, and Prince reacted similarly to Sha’leena with the sneeze.

“Come with us, warriors,” Basida offered.

“No. We will go our own way. Where is the next settlement of life near here?” then to appease Sha’leena and Prince. “Do you know a way to the surface?”

“No… but I can spare you a guide to the next location… He will guide you,” Basida didn’t seem happy about the decision, but settled on it. “Rest now. Your assistance has been appreciated.”

Gutrick moved back down into the lower chamber where the corpses were. It might not smell the greatest, but it had entry points that he could keep an eye on. No one should ever trust a talking mushroom.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Chapter 6 Yestabrod

Mushrooms built a huge forest, lichen lighting the way in pale blue and purple hues. Greens would appear in spots deeper into the area, but not along the path. Sentient mushrooms swayed here and there while others waddled about. The Myconid didn’t seem like a very worrisome race. Peacefulness put the warriors at ease for a time as they continued walking. Larger mushrooms soon on either side of them. Most thought of them as trees until they also began to move a bit, but didn’t seem in any hurry to get where they wished to go.

Large fields came into view with many different races tending to them. All of the races lulled back and forth at times. None of them putting up any fight. Many even had pleasant smiles on their faces as they churned the mulch into the soil for the slowly growing Myconid children. Their dilated eyes sent a shiver up Melzan’s spine. He seemed to be the only one with visible suspicions.

“We shouldn’t be going into this. It’s a bad idea, Gutrick. A very bad idea,” Melzan said in common, lowering his voice to avoid startling the other members of the group. He swallowed a lump in his throat when he noticed Drow in the field behaving in the same manner. A few even swaying like Sereth did that prior night.

“You haven’t found a single place we’ve gone that you’ve thought is a good idea,” the human countered.

“This is the first place we’ve gone.”

“My point remains,” Gutrick raised his shoulder.

His actions proved that he did carry his own insights into the matter. Gutrick pulled his mask down and made sure to remain in a peaceful posture otherwise. The mask itself could cause people to shiver a bit. Shaped to resemble a skull of a raven, the leather drew taut so in no spot did it sag or appear loose. The beak dyed black drew attention to the large eyeholes while feathers sewn into the mask’s rim made it look all the more dangerous. In the Underdark, not many things had feathers, even less people had ever seen a bird before. It added an extra measure of intrigue to the human.

Melzan kept one hand near his holy symbol of his Goddess and the other on the handle of his mace. He looked around to make sure the others got the hint and found they were missing the female Elf. His eyes scanned the area and soon he found her exploring, unnoticed off around the workers. Likely she’d meant for the group to see her, if only for a moment, or else even they would have thought her gone. Never would he admit it out loud, but Sha’leena did impress Melzan, just a little, in that moment.

They continued walking, the Quagoth enjoying playing with a few of the glowing insects that flew about. Tyrnan and Sereth both ready for a fight if need be. It took a while longer before they finally reached a giant shroom where stairs were carved into the side leading up to an inner passage and chamber. Sha’leena returned to them as they started going up the stairs, a dwarf maiden behind her. The dwarf looked terrified and more than grateful to be away from the fields. At least she felt that way until she noticed Melzan and Sereth.

“The Elf says you are all heading to the surface,” she spoke softly, frowning as she looked around. “And that you may have spare weapons?”

“I never said that,” Sha’leena said with a little laugh, shaking her head. “I said we were armed.”

Gutrick paused walking for a moment to look at the Dwarf, sizing her up. Then he looked to Melzan, without saying a word. Just looked.

“Bad idea, we are stupid and are going to die. This is a terrible terrible idea,” he complained as he took out one of the spare hand crossbows they’d retrieved from the Drow they’d fought before.

He gave it to the Dwarf then handed her a few bolts to use with it. Though blatantly unhappy to be working with the dark skinned elf, she realized these would make good allies at least for the time.

“Alright, let’s get out of here then,” she turned to start leaving but paused when the others didn’t follow. “What are you waiting for.”

“You can’t leave without meeting our Lady. It would be rude, and she’s prepared for guests,” the Myconid in front of them whined. He seemed like a very hopeful little fellow. “You are welcome and we wish to show you our best hospitality. Wish you well.”

Sereth continued walking without hesitation up towards the chambers inside the mushroom. Gutrick turned his eyes back to the little Myconid and apparently believed him since he soon continued inside. Gritting his teeth, Melzan followed, but a bit behind letting Tyrnan and Derendyl go ahead. Sha’leena moved quickly, passing Melzan and drawing a small scoff from the Drow. The Dwarf hesitated for a while before deciding to go with them, hustling up the stairs to catch up. A long hallway lead into a chamber a good thirty feet, circular. Plants were growing along the edges of the room in what looked like skulls of humanoids. Mainly fungus and more mushrooms, only not sentient ones. At least it appeared they were all dead until one of them grabbed Melzan by the ankle, using the other hand to hold up the symbol of a Drow house.

The female Drow hissed in agony.

“Kill me, please kill me!” her voice broken up by something that was apparently growing in part of her throat. Half of her once lovely face rotted down until even portions of what they now realized might be her brain were exposed.

A priestess of Lolth. She would die soon enough anyway, the real concern came from how she’d still been alive and what might have kept her that way. Melzan pulled his ankle out of her grasp and bent to take the house symbol to look at it closer.

“Sereth… it’s yours. It’s your hou-” Melzan’s eyes widened a bit as he looked over at the now singing Drow.

Sereth began to sway back and forth as if dancing before he started to scream. A cracking sound echoed as his head suddenly expanded to one side, blood dripping down his face and neck. A sickening ‘slosh’ of noise as a piece of skull pulled away and a soft ‘thud’ as it fell to the ground. Mushrooms began to poke out of the hole in his head and his screaming stopped.

“So, before we die can we please get out of here!” Melzan growled and turned towards the exit only to find that the other ‘planters’ were pulling themselves out of the ground and blocking their path.

Control. Something had to have control of them. He began looking around the room. For now, they were just keeping them inside, but Melzan doubted that it would stay that peaceful. Even the Drow priestess pulled her way out of the soil, head tilting at an odd angle. Taking a deep breath Melzan began to cast a spell. A soft glowing light appeared around Gutrick, over his body like a second skin. By that point, everyone brought their weapons out and were watching for the creatures to start charging.

“Welcome,” the purring voice came from a rather interesting creature descending from one of the walls. Like with everything else in the room, other than the living humanoids, the very skin on it’s form decayed and grew many mushrooms up the large arms. Dark greenish liquid soaked over the hands. It didn’t seem to be in possession of a mouth, but they’d all heard it loud and clear. “You shall all be wonderful additions to the wedding. Lovely, lovely.”

The voice began to crack a bit as he moved closer.

“Surrender to us, become one with us. You will live and find purpose far greater under the lady of Rot. I, her humble servant, shall prepare you for her.”

“Lady Yestabrod!” danced the little Myconid, ecstatic to be witness to such an occasion.

Yestabrod raised a hand and a few of the bubbling flesh bubbles popped with great force, spraying the dark spores throughout most of the room. Unable to stop from inhaling them, the group began to cough. When the spores dispersed they struggled to stay up. The Quaggoth, Prince Derendyl, roared in rage as he rushed at the large rotting creature. A few of the planters rushing at him to pull him away from their precious lady. Melzan gasped and coughed, realizing that they were likely going to die, but also what would have to be controlling them. It would take a lot of concentration to control so many.

“Kill it, Kill it fir-!” he didn’t get to finish as the drow picked up a long hard piece of zurkwood and slammed it against the side of his head. Melzan’s final thoughts were how he should have killed her like she asked him to, and how much he didn’t want to become a living, rotting corpse.

The Dwarf began to scream in panic, firing the crossbow at the creature, only there were so many other bodies in front of her. Tyrnan gasped in pain as an arrow pierced his bicep as he tried to stop one of the undead monsters from slashing his neck open with claw-like ends of the bony fingers. He managed to push the monster away, but his feet wobbled. The bolt still had some of the Drow sleep poison on it and he had to struggle to keep his eyes open. With a shout of defiance he slashed as hard as he could at one of the monsters and managed to cut it down before two more came at him, and soon had him on the ground, fighting to keep their claws from doing too much damage.

Sha’leena, proving her skills in agility rushed past a few of the risen monsters and slashed quickly at Yestabrod. Her short swords slicing into the grimy flesh sending chunks of it flying. Soon after she had to duck to the side to avoid being pierced by Gutrick’s rapier. If the attacks even tickled the rotting mass didn’t show it. Gutrick moved to the side, attempting to get in a better vantage point. Could he trust the Melzan, did the Drow even survive the hit? There were so many of the risen, mushroom growing corpses. The living in the chamber wouldn’t stand a chance against them all. Though the Dwarf did seem to be providing a good distraction.

Moving out of the way, he let the raging Quaggoth slam into Yestabrod. The two risen scratching and slamming against him hardly noticed. Gutrick proceeded to find a weakness in the creature and stab into what looked vital. Sha’leena appeared to share that idea. Chunks went flying as her swords flickered in the light put off by the magical shield around Gutrick. The flickering didn’t last long as the blades became coated in the mush of Yestabrod’s blood.

Finally, Yestabrod screamed and showed signs of pain, mushrooms on it’s back shaking at high speeds to spread out another explosion of spores. Forced to breath them in due to the short distance, Shaleena’s movements began to slow until her arms wouldn’t even obey her. Her feet and legs held like stone keeping her from retreating. Utterly paralyzed.

The two undead on Tyrnan were called to aid their lady, hissing out in anger that anyone dare to harm her. Still with his sword in hand, Tyrnan forced himself to his feet and tackled one to the ground, shoving his sword through it’s back and twisting. The corpse began to twitch and spasm, but went motionless after a few seconds. With his vision blurry he tried to stand, tried to get up, but the poison began to make his vision go black.

“Gut-gutrick, it’s dangerous,” he said with a chuckle before he fell asleep, hand still resting on his sword.

The prince soon found himself occupied, throwing and tossing the creatures off of himself while also slashing at the rotting mound with his spare hand. This forced Gutrick to move back for a moment. The deep claws of the Quaggoth’s hand digging even deeper into soft flesh. A foul odor began to fill the chamber as the dead were ripped and cut open.

Dodging the tossed bodies, Gutrick worked on getting closer to the beast again, kicking the small dancing Myconid out of his way in the process since it decided to also try it’s best to protect Yestabrod. A few of the planters clawed at him as they flew by, only one managing to get through the shield and his armor. With her minions dealing with prince, she focused her attacks on Gutrick, and swung the stub of one of the remaining arms at him, which he managed to dodge, but the second hit his shoulder and sent him tumbling a few feet to the side. The arm that took the blow luckily only dislocated instead of broken. The bouncing across the ground would have caused more damage, but the magic shield and his own armor allowing him to roll and get back onto his feet. Sha’leena started to move again, if only slightly. Enough to draw attention. Yestabrod began to turn towards her until it heard a bloodcurdling shout of challenge. Turning back to Gutrick, where the shouting game from, Yestabrod charged.

In a large mass of white fur, some of it covered in globs of black and green blood, the Quaggoth jumped on Yestabrod and began tearing at her, drawing all of the attention. By the time Yestabrod tossed it off, she turned back to have a rapier shoved through her head. Yestabrod screamed in pain and fear and moved to retreat, but the rapier came in again, and again until the screaming stopped and the head looked like a well-used pin cushion.

Chest heaving from lack of breath, Gutrick put his sword away and raised a hand to try and calm the raging Quaggoth. After a bit, he felt confident it wouldn’t attack him, the shocked look on the Quaggoth’s face far too innocent as it looked over what it had done. Just like Melzan told him, once the creature in control died, the minions all fell motionless. Raising his mask he turned to look at Sha’leena. The Elf looked a bit worse for wear, but no more so than their other companions. The Dwarf seemed to have attempted escaped, her entrails pulled out across the floor. Definitely not in a position where medicine would be of any use.

They needed healing, those that were still alive needed magical healing if possible.

Kneeling down, no sign of pain on his face, he reached a had to check for breath from Melzan. Shallow, but there. He motioned Sha’leena to check on Tyrnan and treat his worst injuries before having her come to assist in bandaging Melzan’s bleeding skull.

The light in the chamber slowly faded as the magic around Gutrick wasted away. Protective shield made out of Melzan’s faith gone. Not because they had a choice, but out of necessity, they rested, hoping that Tyrnan and Melzan would wake and be able to aid them soon.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Chapter 5 Arrival To Neverlight Grove

Continuous jabbering no longer filled their travel now that the Ahroo no longer traveled with them. Whether the Halfling died or just got separated from them no one wanted to find out. Lava tended to be difficult to travel and search through so no one decided to attempt it. Instead, they took the minor loss to the group and proceeded following the Myconid down through the tunnels. Between the different members of the group forcing themselves to gather supplies and stay focused talking didn’t happen as much.

Glowing moss saved Melzan the concentration he needed for the light spell. It would keep them more hidden in the Underdark while also allowing the human to see. In turn, it would mean Melzan could focus on other spells and watch around them. No one other than the other drow could see as far into the darkness as he could, and the other drow likely wouldn’t be considerate enough to warn them of danger if he could get away.

Gutrick gathered some of the edible moss to snack on as they traveled. No use in being hungry when there appeared to be plenty of edible items around. It might not be the best tasting, but beggars could hardly be choosers as they say. Tyrnan frowned each time he took a bite of the less than desirable food. Not that he could complain since his stomach didn’t growl like it had while being a slave to those drow.

More sleeping, gathering and walking. Days passed by, or at least as many days as they could guess passed by since they didn’t have access to a sun or dial of any kind. Melzan and Sha’leena continued with taking the watches when everyone felt tired and they decided to rest.

One night, Sha’leena noticed that their companion drow, Sereth, didn’t seem to be sleeping well. Instead, he appeared to be sitting up at the edge of their camp with the Myconid in front of him. They both appeared to be swaying from side to side in sync with one another. Slowly she moved to wake Melzan, concerned whether this might be normal behavior or not.

“Melzan, Melzan,” she placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook.

Golden eyes glowed a little as they opened to the darkness and looked at her. He didn’t seem thrilled about being woken from his meditation, but didn’t say a word about it when she put a finger to her lips. The motion for ‘silence’ almost universally recognized. With a nod he moved up and with her towards the edge of the camp and noticed how Sereth acted. Melzan became rather worried about that and motioned for Sha’leena to wake Gutrick.

As a group, they moved over to confront Shroomy and Sereth about what they might be doing. Drow were not known for swaying in such a peaceful manner back and forth.

“What is going on here?” Gutrick began in the common tongue of the surface.

Sereth looked over at them and his eyes seemed to come back into focus. He understood the words for the most part. Shaking his head he looked to Shroomy and then back at Gutrick and the others. Explaining something so unusual might be difficult due to their language barrier.

“Talk, between minds. The Myconid is showing me the path and directions of where we are going. He’s used his spores to allow for better communication. He can show images and instructions in a more understandable fashion. I’m certain that if you wished to talk with him similarly he would be alright with that,” Sereth said.

Gutrick considered this possibility. If they were to communicate in images and meanings instead of the Underdark language then they could also find their way without Sereth. Gutrick didn’t think that they would need to, but they’d lost a few people from their group already. With a nod, he moved to sit down.

“That would be a good idea. I’d like to converse in this fashion,” Gutrick said and Melzan translated to the little Myconid. “If you please?”

“I’m not sure if that would be a good idea,” Melzan did pipe in and took a few steps back so he wouldn’t breath in the spores Shroomy began to release.

Even if the human wished to be foolish he didn’t want to risk whatever harm those spores might cause. With something talking in his head there would be no telling how things would proceed. Sha’leena agreed to take in the spores as well, wishing to have some way of conversing with the small creature leading their way. It would be nice to know where things were down here in the caves of the Underdark. The two of them took in the spores and closed their eyes. Feelings of calm and unity came over them. There were images of Neverlight Grove along with some of the passages they would need to take to get there. Gutrick didn’t have any problem with this and gave a nod before standing.

“Let’s rest a bit longer and then start traveling once more,” he suggested and headed back to his bedroll and the most comfortable rock he’d found to be his pillow.

Melzan went back into his meditation so Sha’leena could finish out her watch. Something didn’t feel right to him, but if the others felt like it would be nothing to worry about then panicking would just make him look suspicious. No reason to cause such discourse in the traveling group, at least not yet. He went over the different fights that might occur, the managing of their food and supplies, and most of all making sure that he stayed alive and well.

All of the group were woken when the time to travel arrived. If they wished to stay ahead of the hunting party searching for them then they no time could be wasted. They would eat as they walked and take only necessary breaks. Though they were traveling at a fast pace for the majority of the journey at one point Sha’leena and Gutrick realized they’d passed one of the spots before. Discussions of how to prevent such turnabouts took a while and the group needed to travel a bit slower for the little Myconids mind to keep up.

“I get instructions from the others I’m connected to, I don’t know the way by heart. I can find it, but when we move so quickly I can’t always talk with them in detail of direction and feel. It is very difficult, very difficult,” the mushroom communicated with those who shared his spores.

“Very well, you should have mentioned this before. We do not wish to be lost. More time at finding the right direction will waste less time than doubling back. Do not haste yourself,” Gutrick assured the creature through the connection.

Sereth looked at the two with a blank expression. His scowls growing less often as the days of traveling went on. Most might consider him finally getting used to traveling with those he despised, but Drow did not let go of their bigoted beliefs for such simple reasoning. Tyrnan kept himself too busy to notice gathering the moss that Melzan and Sereth pointed out as being edible as they walked. Though they’d spend a bit of time every day gathering supplies, it never hurt to grab some if they passed it.

“Are we almost there? Will there be people who can help me? I’m certain if they can, and if we get to the surface you will be rewarded for helping me. Saving Prince Derandyl, you all will be heroes,” Prince spoke softly, almost timid for the large monstrous body he inhabited.

“I’m not sure,” Tyrnan said and looked to the other members of the group as they continued to walk. He reached over and patted the white, furry arm of Prince’s and gave him a bit of a shrug. “Though I think since we are bringing you with us that we’ll probably be trying to help you. At least help you to get to the surface with the rest of us.”

Prince leaned down, head hanging as he thought about that. His mind scared him. The violence in it whenever he panicked. He worried about hurting his new friends around him if the creature he’d been turned into took over. How in the world could he stay with them, endangering those who wished to help him. Selfishness. Derandyl shook his head, the shaggy white fur around his face shaking back and forth for a while even after his head stopped. Then he smelled sulfur.

“Is this area safe?” he asked with a frown, looking at Tyrnan and then Melzan.

Melzan ignored him and continued walking.

“Gutrick,” Tyrnan asked, also concerned about where they were walking.

Focusing on the link from the spores, the human communicated with Shroomy on the location and what dangers were in the area. A few images passed through his head of steam, smells of rotten eggs and burning moss, and dried lava. It appeared they were walking through a rather volatile area without even realizing it.

“Careful of where you walk, everyone,” he said firmly without needing to raise his voice.

Sha’leena smiled a little as she moved to scout a bit ahead. Easily enough she leapt by a spurt of scalding hot water, not a drop landing on her as she continued. They’d already encountered something like this nearly a week prior when the little Halfling Ahroo ended up losing her life. Sha’leena and the others were far quicker on their feet and also closer to safety escaping the sudden lava blast with minor scrapes and bruises. Her feet danced across the stone effortlessly.

“Hot spot there,” she warned pointing to an area she’d just walked over. “Would suggest walking around.”

Then she proceeded, finding many of the openings where water hot enough to boil them in a second would jettison out into the air. The pattern became easy to manage and she lead them through the safest route she could find towards the exit the Myconid pointed out. Tyrnan got distracted by her lovely movements more than once and almost ended up getting burned until Gutrick pulled him back by the collar of his shirt. The hot water splashing onto the area he’d just been standing, and splashing a little onto his boots. It didn’t burn his feet due to the leather, thankfully.

“Dangerous. Pay attention,” Gutrick said without any emotion behind it as he proceeded ahead of the Half-Elf.

“Dangerous,” Tyrnan murmured in agreement and gave the man a nod as he looked around.

He waited for the spurt again before he proceeded by it. So far Sha’leena’s recommendation stayed rather accurate based on her hearing and other senses. Making it to the end with no injuries remained a good probability. Then Sha’leena froze and slowly began to look up along with Melzan and Sereth. The other members of the group began to slowly raise their eyes to the stalactites above the area and froze. Glowing eyes looked down on them. Creatures with long, tube-like mouths and bat wings watched them intently. All of them began to take slow, purposeful steps farther away, eyes remaining up on the creatures.

One of them let out a hideous screech suddenly. Sha’leena froze in sudden fear, Gutrick running to pick her up and rush out of the enormous cavern. Derandyl similarly ran in fear, not caring as how water splashed against his arm along the way. Seeing Sereth in a similar state of fear, Melzan and Tyrnan grabbed the Drow by each arm and pulled him along. Prudency almost forgotten as the creatures began to descend and dive towards them. Their surroundings deadly, the creatures also deadly. Nearly ten, by Tyrnan’s count rushed down at them. Too many for them to fight.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Shroomy screamed as he rushed out in front and stumbled over his own stubby feet.

One of the creatures reached him first and began to come after him with it’s claws. The moment the weight slammed into the little Myconid the ground cracked, and broke away into a hole. The creature and Shroomy let out painful scream. Flapping wings brought it up, taloned claws boiled into globs of melted flesh with no shape left to them. They didn’t have time to stop and see if Shroomy lived. Another already getting close enough to slash against Melzan’s shoulder. His armor protected his skin from receiving a gash, but it would bruise quite badly.

Outrunning these creatures would be impossible. Melzan would almost bet they were demons since he didn’t remember seeing anything like them in his times at Menzoberanzan. If they were in the Underdark, that mean that they possibly had the weakness of many other Underdark creatures. Grabbing onto Tyrnan’s shirt so he wouldn’t lose his way, Melzan lit up the brightest light he could around them. It blinded him and Sereth, but hopefully it would also blind the bat like demons. A few crashing sounds and cries of pain made him grin a little. He kept the light up until he couldn’t hear the flapping sound any longer.

Everyone moved to sit down as they panted. Relatively safe for the moment they stopped so the two Drow could let their eyes adjust from being blinded by the light. Sha’leena pushed out of Gutrick’s arms and felt ashamed. Such things should never have caused her such fear. She’d battled monsters larger and more terrifying than those beings. Tensing as Gutrick put a hand on her shoulder she looked up.

“You did well and got us through,” Gutrick said with a matter-of-fact tone.

He did not fault her for the fear, knowing that he’d felt it too. The power of the fear couldn’t be normal, but magic. Dealing with such fear spells and creatures, he imagined, might not be easy for many in the group. Constitution to overcome it difficult to stay the least.

“I did,” she stated proudly, before looking away with a frown. “Though not fast enough. We have lost our guide.”

“That will not be a problem,” Sereth said in common. “The Myconid and I discussed much during meditation. I know how to reach, through the spore link, the elders at Neverlight Grove. We can still get there.”

Gutrick gave him a nod and looked to Melzan, or at least he figured the glowing gold eyes were Melzan.

“Are you well enough to travel? Currently, I’m as blind as you are. A dim light would be preferred,” Gutrick waited while the Drow used a spell to create a far dimmer purple light.

With their breaths caught they proceeded, mourning Shroomy for only a moment in passing.

A few more days. That is how long Sereth believed it would take. Only a few more days.

“So, what sort of work did you like to do on the surface?” Tyrnan asked Sha’leena as they ate dinner before their long rest.

“I would tell you, but I’m rather sure it may scare you just a little. I’d also have to kill you depending on the job I tell you about,” Sha’leena raised a brow and grinned as Tyrnan paled and went back to eating.

At the edge of the camp, Sereth stood, swaying back and forth slowly as he did with the Myconid during their communications. Strangely, he began to walk with the swaying, even holding out his arms at times. It appeared to be some kind of dance.

“Do your kind normally dance like this?” Gutrick finally felt rather concerned about their new ‘guide’. “Are you going to also start dancing?”

Melzan sighed and shook his head.

“No, we normally do not. The moment I start dancing like that I’ve gone crazy. Something would be severely wrong with me. There isn’t even music here. Well, not at the moment. Tyrnan thankfully apologized a little while earlier that he was too tired to play his lute. He has talent but at the same time I’m getting rather tired of the same tunes,” Melzan bit into part of a bat roasted over a small fire.

“So it’s not something that a regular Drow would do or an irregular Drow?”

“Not that kind of dancing, no… I have rather high concerns about this.”

“We will keep a closer eye on him then. If what he said is true then tomorrow we will be entering the grove.”

“And hopefully not entering an ambush of some kind.”

“You are very cynical.”

“When you’ve lived the majority of your life down here, it’s how you stay alive. I’m going to let Sha’leena take the first watch tonight and I will take the second. Get some sleep. Your kind needs it,” Melzan stood and moved to interrupt Sereth to have the Drow go into his meditative sleep.

The watches passed uneventfully other than Sereth requesting to walk around a little to get his barrings a short while before everyone woke. The trudge continued after that. True to his word, Sereth brought them through a small tunnel that opened into an expansive cavern. The area could hold a large castle with room to spare.

Mushrooms grew in all shapes, sizes, and color. Some stretched all the way to the roof of the cavern. Others glowed providing a dim light all around. They’d finally arrived.

“Welcome, to Neverlight Grove,” a Myconid said as he approached the group. “Please come with me. I’ve been asked to bring you to my lady.”

It gave a little bow, and when it straightened it seemed to almost smile.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Chapter 4 Journey to Neverlight Grove

Myconid. Strange little creatures that almost looked vulgar in the right light. Sometimes they were hard to tell apart from the other mushrooms growing in the Underdark.

Understandably so this made bumping into one or stepping on one without knowing it a common occurrence. This would lead to misunderstandings and result in a burst of spores from the small fungus. These spores could be breathed in and cause the inhaler to stand stunned from the effects.

The drow who reached into the hole to retrieve the little mushroom received a face full of the spores. The rest of the party stayed a decent range away. Realizing their mistake the little mushroom began to apologize profusely in Undercommon. After dropping the mushroom the drow reached farther into the hole to bring out his own bag of items, including a different set of armor and spare weapons.

“And what is the meaning of this?” Melzan asked tilting his head.

“Though I know my way around the outpost and back to Menzoberranzan, I do not know my way to a path that you seek, I still don’t know why you’d want to go to the surface. This little thing knows of a neutral area to gather information and possibly supplies. From there I plan to find another drow city and we part ways,” he replied in kind.

“Where is it he will lead us exactly...?” Melzan finally inquired as to the other drow’s name.

“Sereth. He will lead us to Neverlight Grove. True neutral people the Myconids. They’ll accept almost anyone for a time.”

“He doesn’t know of a way out but he knows of a neutral city. The Myconid will lead the way. Oh, the Myconid is the little mushroom thing. The city is called Neverlight Grove,” Melzan relayed the information to Gutrick.

“What’s its name?” Tyrnan asked pointing to the little mushroom man.

Melzan ignored the question and proceeded to follow once the Myconid calmed down and started leading the way.

“I’m going to call him… Shroomy,” Tyrnan grinned.

The mushroom didn’t even seem to react to being named, then again he didn’t understand common. They traveled as far as they dared before finding an area the party agreed could be deemed ‘safe enough’. The group didn’t seem very talkative for the most part. For not being able to see, Gutrick moved rather well in the dark. Essentially blind, he relied a lot on Shaleena and Melzan to make sure he didn’t run into a low hanging stalactite or the upper lip of a cave. This close to the outpost made Melzan too wary to cast a light spell. To do such would almost be like screaming ‘we’re here’ to anything in the dark looking for a meal.

There were very few options for watches, at least those a majority of the group thought trustworthy. Sereth and the Myconid were deemed untrustworthy based on him trying to run off alone earlier and then pulling the mushroom out of a hole. If he could help it he’d prefer to travel alone, but he wasn’t about to get that anytime soon. In the end, the decision made would be the most convenient: Shaleena and Melzan would take the watches. They had the best eyesight in these areas and the best hearing. Being elves they didn’t need the long rest of other humanoids.

For a few days, they traveled with little to no communication, too wary to dare talk and draw the attention to anything that might be listening. Now and again the little mushroom would spin and then pause. It didn’t seem to know everything as well as Sereth thought and got turned around once so far.

Deeming it safe enough, and necessary, Gutrick moved to Melzan. Sereth didn’t know common well enough to communicate in detail, nor did he seem willing to share. None of the others were from the Underdark which left his best informant to be the cleric. Keeping time with the elf he kept the conversation quiet. No sense in being careless.

“Tell me about the Dark Elves. Why are they so feared?” Gutrick really didn’t understand the stories considering he’d killed a few already. Their skills, other than the elite guard, lower than expected. Raising a brow, Melzan looked to the human for a moment before answering.

“Because when it comes to betrayal and killing we are trained to be the best. The position is everything in Drow society and to ‘encourage competition’ there are only limited amounts of positions. Also being in a higher rank is a form of reputation and status. In order to get there the one already holding that status, or someone higher needs to die. The only crimes are getting caught by another noble, or failing in finishing the job. Because if there are no proper witnesses then the death could have come from anything. Punishment is severe for those who commit ‘crimes’.

In turn, torture, murder, deception and playing other ranks or houses against each other is praised. No mercy. Mercy is a weakness. Either you are good and adapt or you are killed so someone stronger, better, or smarter can take your place. Indoctrinated at birth we are taught all other races are beneath us and weak. That the surface elves are at fault for us being driven down here and forced to live in this misery. Which, historically speaking is not completely incorrect. Humans are widely underestimated…

Anything to create discourse is the will of Lolth,” he tried to explain as best he could. Melzan didn’t go into the different houses or the specifics of how Drow were trained, but enough to give Gutrick the basic idea.

“And Lolth is the spider goddess who revels in bloodshed.”

“And chaos. Even within her own people. She requires sacrifices, the more powerful or innocent the better. Even sacrificing babies. It’s tradition, actually, for the third born son of the matron to be sacrificed right after birth to Lolth. At least this is true when the other two sons are alive. Definitely not a place I wish to ever return to,” Being the fifth son born Melzan avoided most of the ‘traditions’ involving sacrifice. Letting out an uneasy sigh he waited for the next question.

“It does seem like a place where the mighty would flourish. If they were a woman. I can see where there would be enough drive to remain,” Gutrick’s next question startled Melzan. “Are elves like you a common occurrence?”

Thinking about the question, it almost felt personal. This human wanted to know more about him, and knowledge is a dangerous thing. Melzan smirked a little and would have replied, but the cavern they were approaching would echo even the softest whispers. Placing a finger to his lips he hoped that Gutrick would recognize the gesture. Then he repeated it to the others as they walked.

The rest of the evening centered around gathering food. Edible moss, mushrooms, and fresh water. Sereth didn’t get to help, he would likely attempt running again. Tired, but full the group found an area they regarded as safe enough to sleep. They stayed there for a day while the little mushroom got itself oriented again. This gave them more time to take inventory and gather spare supplies for the next few days in case they couldn’t find any. Tyrnan’s injuries were healed fully that day by the cleric. He would be able to fight good as new.

“Are you a common occurrence?” Gutrick asked again. The man didn’t know much about their society but he observed in great detail. None of the males were ever in a position to heal anyone. None wore the holy robes of Lolth. For Melzan to have these powers it meant something. Good or bad he did not know yet.

“Living ones?” Melzan would satisfy his curiosity. Considering they might end up dying any day now and keeping such meaningless secrets seemed pointless, especially if he needed aid. “Males of no house and noble survivors of houses eradicated for sake of family position can sometimes find solace in joining a mercenary group. Bregan D’earth. They are a profit driven, male enterprise. They make money bringing goods from the surface here, and vice versa. Money is also taken for other less savory tasks. Though as for those who worship as I do, as a cleric… I have not met another male drow cleric.”

“Impressions of drow society imply your existence his heresy,” no mention of any goddess other than Lolth seemed odd. Many clerics were far prouder of their gods and goddesses. Melzan seemed to want that information kept to himself.

Rolling his eyes at the idiotic statement, Melzan smirked before letting his face fall into non-emotion. “Oh?” his tone slightly mimicking Gutricks, monotone with an edge of sarcasm. “Here I thought they wished to torture and sacrifice me at a public banquet because of my dashing good looks.”

Raising his eyebrows at the insult, or joke, Gutrick returned in kind. “Your looks certainly bring the urge to dash.”

“You have time to be humorous? Hope that lasts down here,” Melzan’s lips curled only slightly to show his amusement. “We’re still likely going to die when their lizard riders catch up to us. By now, with our scent, they’ll be covering far more ground than we could hope to do on foot.”

“So we should get moving,” Gutrick said thinking about it. The more ground they put between them increased the likelihood of their tracks getting too cold to follow.

Nodding in agreement he began packing some of their supplies and the extra food as best he could. Things were going rather well. The half-elf, elf, and halfling were chatting a bit. They were smiling, more often than anyone else. Surface dwellers were far quicker to smile and hold onto hope. An almost pointless endeavor so Sereth and Melzan. One could not depend purely on luck or hope to survive, but at least the former sometimes gave results.

Out of earshot of the Drow, those conversations drifted. The surface dwellers had quite a few fears to worry over. Even if they were safe now, above them rested possibly miles of stone preventing them from getting home.

“They are rather, unsociable,” Ah-roo muttered, not really trusting them. “I mean the one did heal us and took care of you, but… He’s still a drow.”

“A drow who fights alongside us. Until that changes his race has no impact on our journey,” the female elf said, her tone firm. “I do not understand why, but he helps us under orders of Gutrick. Maybe he fears him? Either way, we are companions for the time.”

Tyrnan smiled a little at her and almost wrapped an arm over her shoulder until he saw the dagger pressed against his throat.

“Fighting companions, nothing more,” Shaleena’s eyes danced as she dared Tyrnan to move.

Swallowing a little he nodded and she put her dagger away. He reached up and rubbed his throat as Ah-roo couldn’t help laughing as she rushed to catch up to the elf. It seemed the half-elf would get no luck flirting with her. Already he began to miss Ilvara. Though evil, he couldn’t help but remember how to see through the beautiful spider web robe covering her body looked. The way she handled that whi-

“Nope. Back to not thinking about that,” he murmured to himself. “At least not right now.”

Tyrnan realized that they’d started turning around the corner without him and he had to jog a bit to catch up. More dank and dark caves. Their routine hardly changed. Sleep, eat, walk, eat, walk, eat, sleep.

Sleep, walk, eat, walk, walk sleep.

Walk, sleep, eat, nap, walk -

“Does anyone else hear that cracking sound?” Tyrnan asked before the ground just behind him cracked and sparked. The hot stones tossed from the exploding cave floor as lava and steam forced its way through.

Tyrnan dove forward out of the way. Everyone choking and coughing from the smoke and heat. It took nearly an hour to get far enough away to breathe properly. Ah-roo appeared to be missing. She’d been taking up the watch behind Tyrnan. From what they all guessed she likely didn’t survive long enough to scream.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Chapter 3 Idiots and Their Lute

By some miracle, they were not found on their way through some of the tunnels directly under the outpost. From where they stood there were many small tunnels around the area. Most hiding a few lizards or other small creatures of the Underdark. The drow fighter stopped them and pointed to one in particular that lead up. It would be a tight fit for them to say the least.

“There’s a stone up through there that is loose. It’ll put you directly in one of the barracks. Our things should be in the main guard tower,” he told Melzan, seeing as the Cleric seemed to be the only one who knew any sort of language for this land.

Melzan gave the other a nod and relayed the information to the rest of the group. Now that they had their intel the choices of who might go first needed to be made. Tyrnan volunteered. Gutrick soon after. Shaleena and Melzan took up the rear, but before he left Melzan turned to Prince. His eyes watched him seriously before looking to the other drow.

“Hold him until we get back. I don’t trust him not to run and definitely don’t trust him not to betray us once we’re inside,” Melzan’s eyes narrowed at the other drow who seemed rather upset by this treatment. There would be no telling if the man might actually be a plant to have them flushed out, especially with the guard just handing them the keys to their restraints.

With Prince’s hold strong on the dark elf, Melzan climbed up and let Shaleena come up after that. Apparently, the surface elf had a problem with a Drow being right behind her, even unarmed. Though he too did not like the idea of a surface elf behind him Melzan felt a bit more confident about his usefulness so though wary, he did go first. Though when he heard the sounds of a scuffle he barely peeked his head out of the hole before having to duck back down to avoid a Drow who was thrown right on top of the hole. With a gasp, he dropped a bit to avoid the blade that came thru the drow’s body. A bit of blood dribbled on him and Shaleena before Tyrnan rolled the body off of the hole. Her pale skin and his white hair showing the dark red blood even in the near darkness.

“Oh, so you two did decide to join us,” the half-elf smirked before going to flank the guard Gutrick seemed to be keeping rather busy.

Pulling himself out of the hole Melzan glared at the elf and quickly moved to start looking for a uniform that would fit him. Murmuring to himself he also changed his eye color to a more normal red of the rest of his kin. This would aid in deceiving any slaves or lower class warriors they might run into.

The scale mail fit him well once he managed to get it all on. Luckily they were able to find a bit for Shaleena as well. Gutrick and Tyrnan, unfortunately, were a bit too broad to fit into the fine elven armor. It appeared they would need to wait until they found their own things. On the bright side, all the weapons and poisons taken off of the guards fit perfectly on everyone, even the halfling who apparently tagged along.

With the superior dark vision, Melzan lead them out of the barracks. The light provided by the few faerie fire torches lit up the larger expanse of ground. Likely the training area. Across from there the building their things were in, according to their Drow captive. A few servants, Bugbears, guarded the area. They would send an alert if anything came up. Honestly, they were barely considered more than slaves themselves. “You all stay here. We don’t want to make a lot of noise if we don’t have to. I’m going to see if I can send them off. Though if they attack, well, we’ll have to kill them before they can sound any alarm,” Melzan’s posture changed a bit to more resemble the guards, and that of a noble.

“How can we trust that you won’t sell us out?” Shaleena almost growled, causing Melzan to look a bit surprised.

“I’m not asking you to trust me. What I’m asking is that you cooperate so we all don’t get killed. I want to get back to the surface, and away from here. My ‘crimes’ here are not something any drow could forgive. You all are also more useful right now as fighters, not just distractions,” Melzan’s eyes changed back to gold. “Damn it…” he cast the spell again and once more his eyes were red. He looked to Gutrick to see if the human saw his reasoning.

The next time Shaleena was about to talk he held up his hand then made a bit of a shooing motion with his other for Melzan to get going. This drew a glare from Melzan, and a bit of a snarl. He used that. The slaves were terrified of their drow masters, and most weren’t as strong willed as this group. All he had to do is convince them to leave.

The bugbears looked a bit startled, and after a while longer of talking. Melzan raised his voice and the bugbears stepped back before looking at each other and rushing off. Standing there for at least a few minutes he wanted to make sure they were gone. Once he felt positive he motioned for the others to come to the guard tower. Things normally did not go this quick or easy. It placed the warriors on edge. Gutrick lead the way, Tyrnan close behind. Currently, they were the best close combat fighters due to their resilience. If they didn’t have the armor they could likely take a hit better than the other three. Protecting each other became a necessity rather quick as an elite guard found them breaking into the storage rooms. Shaleena busied herself with getting through the door as the others rushed to engage. No survivors. This elite guard and his subordinate could not be allowed to live and report their location.

A crossbow bolt hit into one of Tyrnan’s shoulders and for a moment he appeared lightheaded but shook it off. The Halfling dropped down from the place she’d claimed as a hiding spot, behind the two drow and slashed the subordinate’s hamstrings before rushing to the side.

“My names Ahroo, fear it!” she laughed as she danced away from the guard that came after her, slowed by his injury.

The elite drew out a second blade, the sword edges glistening with liquid. Bored and disappointed with the other, he decided to let him fight his own battle. In front of him stood two warriors and a worshiper of the daughter of Lolth. Killing the traitor to their kin would make Lolth very please with him, along with the elves. The human likely couldn’t do much against him. With a grin, he charged at Tyrnan. Get rid of the weakest first. His pace stopped as he felt a surge of fear that made his stomach drop, attention refocusing to the human.

Gutrick soon held up the single sword in an attempt to block all the remarkably quick blows assaulting him. Even a single scratches could prove fatal depending on what poison the Drow coated his blades in. Once the flurry finished he came in strong, forcing the elite to dodge and parry. The Drow couldn’t block such moves. Noticing movement to the side the guard had to jump back to avoid a charging blow from Tyrnan. A small amount of blood dripped from around the tiny shaft of the crossbow bolt.

“Can you hurry it up?” Melzan asked Shaleena. “They could really use any sort of armor or the weapons they are used to.”

“You want to try it? I think it’d take a lot longer,” she glared at him so hard he took a step back, then she continued working.

“Filthy iblith…” Melzan grumbled in the drow tongue before looking back to the fight.

They were doing alright for not having any armor. Gutrick had a small scrape across one of his arms but resisted the poison well enough. Tyrnan grinned a little, actually believing they could win. The sight left them suddenly as a globe of darkness filled the hall. A gurgled gasp came from the globe along with the sound of metal hitting metal. Almost as soon as it started the globe dissipated.

Laying on the ground clutching at a deep gash over his shoulder, Tyrnan seemed close to losing consciousness. The half-elf would not be able to fight more in this battle. Gutrick had the Drow pinned and was about to deliver the final blow when the other came back, Ahroo under one arm and a crossbow in his other hand. In the Halfling's, arm rested a bolt from the crossbow and she looked rather worse for wear. He aimed the crossbow.

Melzan reached down for some magic, any residual magic he could summon. Using the magic he found he let out a command. “Drop!”

Unprepared for the attack, the guard dropped everything he held. The crossbow and the halfling. This gave Gutrick time to stab down piercing the elite guard’s lung before taking up a dropped blade and surging forward while the remaining guard appeared shocked. A dull thud echoed as his head hit the ground, and another when his body finally joined it.

“I’m in!” Shaleena said with haste and began searching to get her things.

Melzan turned to do the same but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Looking up he found Gutrick staring at him, expression blank. Then he looked to the halfling and the half-elf before meeting Melzan’s eyes again.

“So what? They’re dead. Their usefulness is-” the hand tightened, but not painfully so. “You want me to… heal them.”

Another blank expression caused Melzan to grit his teeth a little.

“They are not wor-” the hand didn’t squeeze harder as he expected. Instead, his shoulder was released. Another patented Drow eye roll of annoyance given to Gutrick. “... Fine. There is no arguing with you. It’s going to end up getting us killed.” Melzan moved to start treating Tyrnan.

The blood stopped spilling onto the cold stone floor. The wound would need greater care later, but for now, the half-elf would be able to move and fight if necessary. Then he moved to the halfling and made sure she also survived and could wake up. Each took turns watching as others gathered their gear and anything else they deemed worth stealing in the short amount of time they had.

Getting out definitely took less time than getting in. When they were finally getting close to the exit alarm bells began to sound, screams echoing in the cavern. Something must be going very wrong at the party. The flapping of wings of some kind started getting louder. None of them wanted to stick around to find out what might be making those sounds.

“So what was so important to get for you?” Melzan asked the half-elf curiously. Other than his armor the man seemed to keep the new blades he’d found.

In his hand, he held up a musical instrument. “I could not leave my lute.”

Gutrick’s eyes widened, if only slightly. “You are an idiot.”

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Origin Story

Through tricks and schemes a young Drow male managed to trick his family into thinking he had magic. Destined for the house of fighters he had to show skills in magic or lose his chances at being able to use the large library in Sorcere. It took a great deal of desperation and even a deal with a demon in order to obtain his goal. Melzan convinced his family he would only be destined for Sorcere. Little fires here, a few other destructive spells there and he found himself accepted into Sorcere at a rather young age.

Under the guise of studying magic instead Melzan studied everything he could. Though skilled with the concept his magical talents were not in the arcane. Many argued his place in Sorcere a fraud, until he passed his tests without breaking a sweat. All suspected, but few knew for sure that Melzan would be no mage. His powers came from a much darker and sinister creature. The attention of the demon nearly nonexistent, he summoned upon their might in order to beat those who doubted him.

The dark magic worked well as a cover in the school until the day a member of Bregan D'earth came to him. His house would be destroyed soon, and his life would be forfeit if he stayed. The books and lore were his entire reason for tricking his way into Sorcere would be gone.

Survival or knowledge. In this instance survival came first. Drow lived a decently long time when compared to most races and he could always find more things to learn where they would take him. One of the first requirements for him joining Bregan D'earth required learning surface common. Languages were easy to master for the most part. Soon they began allowing him to handle some deliveries and were arranging for him to stay as a liaison in a village. In that village he changed. HIs devotion to the demon faltered when he experienced the touch of a Goddess. He chose a new path, that of a cleric.

Due to never really having the original demon's attentions, Melzan did not concern himself with his new path and relaxed into a new life...

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Chapter 2 Quaggoth? Did you mean rope?

The halfling began to throw up the water they swallowed as Tyrnan moved them out of the water. Two dark elves, human, and the other elf already gasping and regaining their breath. Moving over to the human the golden eyed drow, Melzan, began to murmur a few words and healed a bit of damage from the struggle with the guards. Not letting onto his pain, the human did have a few gashes on his palms from using the improvised dagger. The fall and swim left them a bit battered as well.

Slowly the gash on Gutrick’s hand began to close until only drying blood remained. Bruises and soreness in his lungs from being thrown about in the water and swallowing some of it similarly fading. The weariness in the Drow and the other apparently eased.

“Heal them,” Gutrick stated to Melzan, no hint of real emotion.

Melzan frowned a little and looked over at the elf kinds and the halfling. As a Drow, his instincts bade him ignore them. They would betray him as soon as possible. Human’s were easier to get along with, for the most part, might be due to their short lives. Also a bit hardier and adaptive than the fairer folk. His eyes moved back to look right into Gutrick’s.

“Why would I do that? They are useless,” Melzan placed a hand on his hip and quirked his eyebrow.

“Because,” Gutrick paused to think of a way to convince this elf to aid them. Taking in his race and the disdain he openly showed to the elves he figured a bit of manipulation wouldn’t be too horrible. “Because they will be easier distractions if they can fight on their own. If we run into trouble then they can be left as a distraction, or help us until their usefulness fades.”

Drow didn’t seem to know how to smile kindly or with happiness but apparently they’d mastered the eye rolling of acceptance. Melzan moved over towards the elves and he noticed their displeased gazes as he healed them as best he could. Not much more he could do at that point for healing. His reserves were exhausted. Easily met limits deemed him a new cleric, one just starting in the arts. Considering Melzan could access such magic meant he worshiped some Goddess other than Lolth.

“So that is why they took you. You worship one of the surface gods,” the more battled hardened drow smirked speaking in a language only he and Melzan knew. “Now we die anyway. We have no gear. They are going to have hunting parties out searching for us soon.”

“I am not about to die today, not without a fight. You try to surrender any of us I will not hesitate to smite you and expose you to the human,” Melzan glared at the other.

“You are helping the iblith,” he scoffed looking at the elves and then back.

“Matter of convenience and survival. I am of Bregan D’earthe. I work with other races often. Swallowing my distaste of them is not difficult. Now we need a plan and supplies, as you’ve put it.”

“What are you two saying?” Gutrick looked sternly between them.

Melzan looked over towards the human and considered what should be said. Once his mouth opened to speak another interrupted him. The half-elf deemed it necessary to speak.

“We have to go back! I need my stuff. I absolutely need my stuff!” Tyrnan said vehemently. “Come on, we can… we can sneak back in. We need our things right? Weapons, supplies? I mean, we are in rags and unarmored. There is no way that we could survive long out there like this.”

All attention fell onto the half-elf as many of them considered the reasoning. They didn’t have a way in and no doubt the ways would be well guarded. It would be like walking right back into chains and slavery. Before they could make any kind of decision a loud gasp and water splashing startled them. Even Melzan moved to get a rock or something to throw. The Quaggoth clawed out of the water and looked at them. The creature’s eyes were almost frightened as he noticed them all ready to attack. He looked behind as if there might be a monster. A panic set in when he realized they were all scared of him.

Unable to resist he shivered and shook to get the water out of his fur.

“Please wait, I am not this. I am… I am an elf, not this. I am a prince of elves,” the large clawed hands were raised in a peace of sorts. “I will not hurt no.”

Everyone seemed to pause for a while and then Melzan looked up in frustration and lowered his hand holding the rock.

“Let’s just kill it already. It’s obviously lying. These things are malicious and violent. It will gut us as soon as we turn away,” he couldn’t help but think that this Quaggoth did seem more intelligent than any other one he’d come across or heard of. Of course, he didn’t actually run across them often or talk with them.

“Wait,” Gutrick said, same monotone voice. “Long as you do not attack us, we will not harm you.”

Gutrick put away the sword no one even noticed he’d grabbed off of one of the dead guards. Melzan glared at him, more liabilities and danger accepted into their group. He could understand the elves, but this monster seemed to be going a bit far. The human warrior motioned Melzan over to talk. The man recognized having a healer who knew the language of the Underdark wouldn’t be wise to lose. Yet he also recognized the healer needed him as well or Melzan would have left him to bleed and not heeded his order to treat the others. At the same time, he didn’t feel like having both of the drow leaving them all in the dark to fend for themselves. Melzan didn’t seem as likely to attempt slitting his throat at night as the other drow.

“As I said, we can use them. ‘Prince’ over there included. Having that sort of muscle will make many down here second guess attacking us,” the human spoke softly enough that Melzan could barely hear. “And what do we do when he does betray us and go savage like the rest of the Quaggoths?” Melzan hissed back.

“Then I will kill it,” the bluntness of the comment had Melzan a bit surprised. Not by the outlandishness, but by the force and surety in the sound of those words. Gutrick believed without a doubt that he could kill that creature.

Melzan smirked and shook his head a little, he felt confident he’d chosen the right warrior to escort him to the surface.

“What about my stuff?!” Tyrnan growled a bit louder.

By this point they were wary of ‘Prince’, but they’d let their weapons down. At least those that were still there. The other’s might not have noticed, but Melzan and Shalenna caught the other drow quietly rushing away.

“Shit, we need him!” Melzan said firmly. “He knows the area and the ways out!”

At those words, Gutrick also decided it would be a good idea to keep the other drow around and rushed with Shalenna to grab him. Curses echoed. Even trained in hand to hand the Drow could not fight the two other warriors on his own. After surrendering and being brought back Melzan thought of a plan. They didn’t exactly need any rope to restrain him, but they had something with very large hands.

“Prince!” Melzan shouted towards the Quaggoth. For a moment it seemed confused until Melzan actually pointed at him and motioned him over. “We need you to restrain this man. He is likely our best chance at avoiding the scouting parties and getting far away from this place alive. Just hold him tight as we walk. If he kicks at you, give him a good squeeze. I can always heal him so you can do it again.”

A malicious gleam in the golden eyes let the other drow know that Melzan wasn’t bluffing as he repeated the words in their own tongue. Calming down he let his arms get pinned to his sides by the large clawed hands. His own glowing red eyes intent on the cleric, then he smirked and chuckled.

“So you are a drow after all,” he quipped.

Melzan merely shrugged at the implications of the words. Though his old habits were returning after being put into slavery even he noticed his acceptance of those around him. Other drow would rather die than work with these surface dwellers or would have at the very least attempted to assassinate one and maintain order above the others. Instead, Melzan apparently felt just fine working alongside them for now.

“I can show you a secret passage into the outpost, for your things,” the drow said in common, though his accent seemed heavy and the inflections on the words awkward in spots. “Get mine as well? As you say I can lead us out of here, avoid the scout parties.”

At those words, Tyrnan brightened and looked to the others. Noticing their lack of enthusiasm at what he considered good news he put his hands on his hips.

“You all might not have anything back there to get, but I need my stuff. I can’t leave it. I’ll go in alone if I have to in this secret passage,” the half-elf looked to the restrained dark elf. “Tell me where it is.”

Melzan felt around the edges of the shirt collar. He did miss the symbol of his Goddess. Such an item would likely be unavailable down here unless he made it himself. Magic still coursed through him, but at the same time, he didn’t know if she would be able to hear him enough to bless an object to make it a symbol. The Underdark is where his Goddess’ mother ruled, Melzan would be hard pressed to get any assistance more than his own spell knowledge there.

“It would be good to at least attempt recovery of our things,” Melzan found himself agreeing with the elf. “Like the iblith says. We are close to useless compared to those coming after us. We could likely still make it, but it would be difficult. Most of the guards are out searching for us and the rest might be preparing for the banquet they are holding. The areas our things are kept in will have little or no soldiers.”

For affirmation of the decision, he looked at the halfling, the elf, and the human. Gutrick almost appeared to have a rather upset look, only his lip twitching. Though against, none of them could argue the practicality. In agreement, they would run if any sort of trouble came up. This mission would be quick, limited, and if failed it would put them back in chains or worse. Gutrick might not have said it, but Melzan could almost feel what the man wished to say, ‘You are all idiots’. Too bad for the human he wouldn’t survive for more than a few days if left on his own in the pitch black of the Underdark. With him, the group had more of a chance to survive this endeavor and possibly the chance to get a few of his own items back.

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Chapter 1 Time to Run

Manual labor never increased the morale of prisoners, especially ones destined to die. Slaves meant for such things in short supply at the outpost the Drow’s future sacrifices worked alongside them by force. From the appearance the preparations seemed to already have a few weeks completed and judging by the new items being brought into the ceremony wouldn’t be far off. Lastly, the wine barrels and food still being gathered and prepared. Maybe a day or two left.

Food and water were sparsely given to the prisoners stale and stagnant. If options allowed them other things they certainly wouldn’t even bother with this. However, the food was food. Those in chains didn’t get much choice. Once in the cells, one of the Drow looked around. He looked a bit smaller than the other and had pale gold eyes, a bit brighter than the yellow some of them had. Most Drow possessed red or gray eyes.

With a sigh, the Drow knew the guards didn’t know surface common. There weren’t many options that the dark elf would want to party with in order to escape. Elves were untrustworthy at best, as well as his kin. Half-elf, a female elf, and another male Drow. Then he looked a bit more to the side and saw dwarves, a Kuo-toa, Halfling, and a few others. His eyes fell onto a human. The human and the Dragonborn would be his likeliest way out. Of course, they’d all need to get freed, they would need distractions in order to escape properly.

“You, human,” the dark elf said in common. His eyes glowed a soft golden light in the utter darkness. “If I can get you an opportunity, would you be able to lead an attack the next time they come to let us out?”

Looks of surprise that he knew their language crossed the faces of a few of the surface dwellers and the dark elf rolled his own eyes. For now, he waited for an answer. A small nod seemed to be all he would get from the stoic human. That would be all he needed as assurance. Closing his eyes, he focused a bit. The runes on the inside of the cell glowed each time he tried to focus and took the magic from him. No, he gathered the spell and would attempt to cast it as a distraction.

“Wait, we’re going to try to escape?” hopeful voices began to mutter amongst one another.

Dragonborn growled before moving over to one of the dwarves. It appeared they’d muttered something a bit worse to one another than just hopeful escape comments. The other Drow, more lean than bookish, looked over a little amused by the look of the two fighting. The Dragonborn won of course. The claws were a great advantage against an unarmed dwarf even if a muzzle kept the cold-blooded beast from using its breath. Dragonborn did have quite the halitosis issue involving acid or fire.

The noise drew the guards a little quicker to see what happened. They didn’t seem to break up about the dead dwarf and shrugged to one another. One began to get the key to the door out and the group inside the cell grew calmer and quiet at the sound. The guards would come in and lead them out blindly through the dark. Even the talkative Halfling quieted down for a little while. Then the half-elf grinned. He looked at the two and then around behind and to the sides of the guards.

“Where Ilvara? Is My sexy mistress playing hard to get again? Tell her Tyranen says ‘hello’,” the half-elf apparently had a death wish, wiggling his eyebrows. Lucky for the man none of the guards knew surface common.

The human seemed to have something palmed. A jagged piece of rock that would make a decent improvised dagger. The female elf had two in her hands, hidden as well.

“My name is Melzan,” the dark elf with the golden eyes said to the human.

“Gutrick,” the short, flat reply.

“Shalenna,” the female elf also replied.

“Tyranen-” the half-elf apparently wanted to continue talking, but the Drow quickly interrupted him.

“I don’t care about your names,” Melzan said without even looking at the elf. Then he began to try and summon up a spell. The runes along the inside of the cave began to light up. “Kneel!” he let the power of the spell flow, lighting the runes up more. It wouldn’t actually work, but he didn’t need it to work.

Light for the surface dwellers to notice the outline of the guards is what Melzan provided. The first guard didn’t even realize as Gutrick moved in quick, slamming him into the bars. Jagged stone pierced into the unarmored flesh of the guard’s neck. A couple of the deep gnome prisoners rushed out before the second guard even noticed. Swords were drawn and he moved to attack the unarmed, unarmored human and received a hard kick to the abdomen. Human’s weren’t supposed to be fighters with that much talent. Underestimation leads to the second guard’s death. He’d been kicked right into the other prisoners who began to rip and tear at him before he could even scream.

“They don’t have the keys,” a rather smooth, feminine voice came from the elf searching the guard Gutrick killed. “We’re not going to get far with these chains on and-”

Many stiffened as the guard captain came into view. He raised a snow-white brow at the group. With ease, he could close the cell door and lock it. Then a smirk grew on his mouth and he conveniently ‘lost’ his keys and continued walking down the hall. Keys jangled as they hit the ground in front of the cell. Melzan reached them first and looked after the captain. Retrieving the keys he found the ones to his manacles and undid them easily before getting Gutrick’s restraints off as well. The others would need to get their own as he tossed the keys to the Halfling. To aid the human, and because there would be light in the area they were going, he summoned up a dim glow of purplish light to help keep the surface dwellers from tripping over themselves.

“We need to get moving. There is no way he just let us get loose because he felt nice. Likely he’s going to alert the compound and have us recaptured. Gain a bit of reputation for correcting the mistakes of those other guards,” Melzan murmured as he began to lead the human down the halls as quickly as possible.

The human towered over the dark elf in height as they walked. Footsteps nearby brought a great amount of attention. It seemed most of the prisoners were going to follow them. The Dragonborn still struggled to get the muzzle off of their face. The Dragonborn made rather loud, echoing noises of discomfort and frustration.

“Hey, hey, are we going this way? Are we going this way?” the Halfling rushed ahead.

“These idiots are going to get us killed,” Melzan hissed.

The caverns were dark, but dim lights began to appear ahead. Only enough to give the slaves light to see what they were doing. Luminescent moss grew on portions of the cave walls. The closer they got to the light the wider the cave became. It didn’t take long before they walked into a cavern. Thin walkways and bridges spidered over the outpost. Air heavy with the smell of algae. Rushing water echoed in the large space.

Shouts began to echo even louder than the water. Apparently, they’d finally noticed the escaped prisoners. At this point, they didn’t get far enough to have an option of direction. Their only options: move forward and fight heavily armed guards, head back to the cells and try to find another way out, or go for a swim.

“We can’t fight them,” Melzan said bluntly. “There are too many and they will soon upon us from everywhere.”

Another nod from the human who looked down over the sheer drop towards the lake. As far as they knew there could be jagged rocks just below the surface, monsters, traps, or it could just look like water. In the Underdark normal looking things were often not normal at all. One of the dwarves and a few others rushed past the group determined to make the pathway work. The Halfling also resisted. Halflings were terrible swimmers after all.

After a short time of considering the choices, both of the Drow prisoners leaped towards the water, followed by the Dragonborn, and human. The half-elf paused when he noticed the Halfling refuse to jump. Halflings were notoriously bad swimmers. Tyranen grabbed the little being, getting a punch in the nose as he jumped off of the cliff.

The splash noises were covered by the sound of water. The rush of a current carried them away, none of the escapees able to right themselves enough to swim out at the start. None came up to the surface of the lake like area more than once, swept under and away.