No Retreat

The trek was rather boring, the most exciting thing being the slight chill to the early spring air. It seemed to be taking a little longer for the forest to warm up this spring. But the sun was still bright and the skies clear and the trail empty except for the party borrowing deeper into Cormanthor.

It was on the eighth day that they came across what they were looking for. With suddenness, they stepped from the woods and out onto a wide deep swath of destruction that ran parallel to their path for as far as the eye could see in both directions. Everything on the path was devastated. Trees were snapped, ripped and uprooted and the ground had a deep furrow in it, revealing the almost black soil beneath the floor of Cormanthor. It was simple to decide which direction to turn as everything had been pushed and thrown in the same direction, the northeast.

Without a word, everyone readied their weapons and with a good deal of caution, they picked their way along the path of destruction for almost two hours before they finally found the end of it. And each of them was equally dumbfounded at what they found there. Embedded in a massive pile of debris was, of all things, a sailing ship. It was utterly destroyed, but there was no doubt that it was a ship, its bow dug deep into a pile of trees, dirt and rock and several feet below the level of the forest floor, and its stern rising up into the air. All around was shattered wood, ruined masts and rigging and several bodies. It seemed some of the…’sailors’ had ridden out the crash all the way until the ship’s inertia slowed enough and it slammed into an oak that was not yet ready to yield to even this strange force. Seaoth gently investigated a near by body with the end of his long sword, using it as a lever and lifting the form enough to identify it as human.

For several minutes the troop of elves stood in stunned silence, simply trying to make sense of the scene. And then they noticed the captives. When the bow of the ship had stopped, the back half wasn’t ready to halt and a good part of the middle section of the boat “accordianed” into itself before the last quarter of the vessel was thrust upward at a near vertical angle. From where they stood, they could see that a large hole had been torn in a largely intact section of the starboard side of the hull. Much like the mouth of a cave, the elves noted that two figures kneeled just inside within the shadows, their backs towards each other.

Sheathing his sword, Seaoth withdrew his bow and knocked an arrow as he looked around for a good vantage point. When he had chosen one, he turned to Arthon,

“We will cover you” he said with nothing resembling ‘request’ anywhere near his voice, “Go see what is going on with those two.”

Arthon took a deep breath and steady his nerves and he tried to see if there was anything else hiding in the shadows. He made sure his shield was secure before he started taking tentative steps through the wreckage. When he was within 50 yards or so, one of the figures happened to slowly look up. Upon seeing the approaching elf, his eyes grew to ten times their normal size and he started chattering in a desperate sounding whisper. More than that, however, the elven soldier could not make out for the human spoke in a strange and unknown language.

“I can’t understand you.” Arthon said as he took a few more steps and squinted into the shadows behind the kneeling man, “Can you understand me?” he asked looking back down at the man now only ten feet away.

The man’s eyes grew even larger as he looked over his shoulder. He gazed intently at the darkness before turning back to the elf and tried to say something else in a strained, tense hiss of a whisper. He also began shifting his body to show Arthon that he was tied to the other man, who Arthon noted had not moved at all except for his lolling head as the other tugged at their communal binding. Whether it was his elven nature, or his training or simply the discomfort of the bizarre setting but suddenly Arthon had a sinking feeling that significant danger was not far off. He turned back to his companions and yelled to Seaoth,

“Shall I pull him out to you?.”

“Be wary, private” his sergeant ordered as he put tension on his bow string and aimed the arrow at the darkness over Arthon’s shoulder, Siam had placed several arrows on the log he knelt behind and drew his bow back to its full; Ardinia played with the fastener for her spell component pouch as PRIEST bowed his head and said a quick prayer.

When Arthon had called out to the others, the bound human looked as if he would die of shock right there on the spot as he again quickly looked over his shoulder and into the darkness. He turned back to Arthon as the young elf came up and pulled him forward to get his blade at the bindings. After ensuring that he could separate the two without having to free either of their hands, he sliced the rope and almost immediately the human jumped to his feet, desperately hissing strange words at his liberator and trying to leave the hull of the ship. With a firm grip, Arthon locked his hand on the man’s arm trying to communicate to him that at this point, they were neither friends nor allies. Feeling the man’s shoulders sag a bit and his body relax at the realization that his was still a captive, Arthon led him back to his companions.

After several frustrating minutes without any meaningful conversation, they decided to give Ardinia time to pull out her spell book and memorize a spell that would enable her to hopefully communicate with the man. About an hour later, she gently returned the tome to its storage place and readied to cast the spell. When she was done invoking the arcane syllables and waving her hands in the precise somatics, the other elves looked at her rather unimpressed. This changed quickly as she turned to the human and casually rattled of sounds and words she had absolutely no knowledge of a few moments before. The human was overjoyed and he began deluging her with information. For a long time they spoke to each other. The mage had told the others she would have about a half hour of communication before the spell failed and she seemed intent on using every last minute of the duration. She even took a seat next to the man at one point as they conversed intently.

Unable to stand it anymore, Arthon touched his sister’s shoulder, “What is he saying?”

She looked up, excited and in her element, “They were flying this ship through the heavens! He was a sailor on it, and they apparently sail all over the skies. His ship was attacked and they crashed into our forest.” She turned back to man to ask him something else, but first told her brother almost as an afterthought, “Oh, and he keeps going on and on about some ‘brain eater’ that is hiding in the hull of the boat and will apparently come out and kill us all as soon as the sun sets.”

“What?!?” Arthon almost yelled and rather than looking toward the sky, he turned to a far more reliable source who answered without even being asked,

“About 20 minutes” the ranger said, concern in his voice.

“What the hell have you two been talking about for the past half hour??!” Arthon was not angry as much as simply flabbergasted.

Not giving time for a ‘sibling moment’, Seaoth jammed his bow away and ripped his sword from its sheath as he started walking towards the ship. Without looking back, his training and experience took completely over and almost without thought he began barking,

“Private! Take point, I’ll keep your flanks. Siam! Get to a high enough position to be able to cleanly shoot over us, but still make a shot into the interior of the ship. Ardinia, the most potent, vicious and spectacular spell, ready it and fall in behind us.” Then, he turned, “PRIEST, start praying.”

He turned back and walked purposefully towards the boat flexing his hand and affirming his grip on his weapon. As Siam began climbing the embankment of soil, rocks and trees, the other three jogged to catch up with the sergeant. Arthon moved in front of his mentor and began to ready himself mentally while Ardinia rummaged through components and PRIEST whispered quietly.

They ducked through the large gash and past the still kneeling and bound human, who still had yet to make any form of movement on his own and waited a moment for their night vision to adjust. Arthon looked around. There was no sense to anything. They were walking beneath a shattered ship in the middle of a forest. But he still attempted to get his bearings. Their was wreckage everywhere and he noticed the leg of another fallen sailor jutting out from beneath a pile of rubble. After a moment, he felt someone touch his arm. He looked back to see his sister point to a door. It was now upside down, and only half the hinges still attached, but it had been pulled as closed as possible and it was here that his sister indicated their captive had told her the ‘brain eater’ was waiting.

Swallowing hard, the soldier flexed his grip and adjusted his shield. After looking back and getting an affirmative nod from his sergeant, he began weaving through the debris and towards the cabin door. Having finished his prayer, PRIEST retrieved his bow, knocked an arrow and then moved into position to afford him a decent shot over Arthon’s shoulder without interfering with the line of sight for the much more proficient archer Siam, who was now knocked and ready some 75 yards outside the ship. Ardinia was prepared to encant magic missile as soon as Seaoth gave her the order (without thinking, she knew that Arthon would first react in accordance with his training, and as such she was much better off following the lead of his superior as opposed to making her own assesment of the situation).

Reaching the door, Arthon looked over his shoulder one last time to make sure everyone was ready. When he saw that they were, he reached out and pulled at the metal handle. The door moved, but it had been wedged closed and he realized he would have to make much more of an effort to free it. Again, he looked back to his seargant, who again nodded wordlessly. Leaning his sword against what was left of the wall next to the door, Arthon grabbed the handle and ripped the door open. It made far more noise than any of them were comfortable with as it came free. Quickly, Arthon grabbed his sword and leaned his head to the right, creating a better line of sight for Siam. After several tense moments, they realized the noise had not alerted anyone and Seaoth gave his corporal the hand signal for, ‘advance’.

The creature was completely immobile and did not put up any kind of a fight, but this did not diminish the horror of the scene. A sight that none of the elves who witnessed it are comfortable talking about even today. First, they saw the human woman, laying on her side, face towards them. Her eyes were rolled back into her head and they could only see the whites. Blood streamed from her nose and a frothy yellow-greenish spittle ran from her mouth and down her cheek. All over her head, were a half-dozen or so writhing tentacles. They pulsated and slithered, but the end of each was firmly attached to the womans head and temples, and an ugly blackish blue bruise had formed at the site of each. These tentacles were apparently part of the oral structure of the creature that layed next to her. It had a humanoid body, but they could see that the hands had only three digits each. And its head was anything but humanoid. It looked almost exactly like a seafood delacacy called an ‘octopus’, and immediately all the elves decided that they would never be able to stomach such a meal again. And if the visuals of the scene were not horrific enough, when Seaoth and Arthon simultaneously drove their blades into the creature’s chest, it was the woman who reeled her head back and let forth a scream unlike any sound any of them had ever imagined was possible. In a matter of moments, both the human and vile creature lay motionless, but the memory would haunt each of them for centuries.

Ardinia’s scetch of the brain eater creature

It was with near silence that the group searched and readied to go. To their suprise, they found many many chests stuffed with golden coins. There were other valuables as well, and it was a minor morale improvement as they came to comprehend the magnitude of the gift they would be delivering to the Hall of the Western Star. Ardinia also found a spellbook and a few items that glowed with enchantment when she detected them for magic. They went about their business as quickly as they could and then put as much distance as they could between themselves and the ship, traveling well past nightfall.

The return trip to Ryventhal was as uneventful as the first leg of their journey. The human Ardinia had spoken with was a very grateful and hospitible traveling companion, but his comrade whom he had been bound with was incapable of anything but walking and following someone holding his hand and guiding him. They noted the large ugly bruises on his forehead and temples and Ardinia did not bother casting a spell to find out what they already knew, his mind was shattered, if it had survived at all.

The priests at the Hall of the Western Star were very interested in their tale and one of them spoke of “Spelljamming” ships, a term Ardinia had heard the human use when she had the oppertunity to speak with him. The priests led the two survivors away, and graciously thanked the troop for the chest of gold and immediately began making preparations to fetch the others that the small group had been unable to transport.

It was with a different mood that the party split up and went their separate ways compared to recent adventures. On the one hand, they had retrieved a rather impressive treasure without much effort at all. On the other hand, each was profoundly affected by the horror they had witnessed, and none of them was looking forward to their dreams in the near future.