Story [Forgotten Realms] The Our Group Saga Vol. 2: The Fading Point of Light

Their first written adventure has wound down and the group has now moved on to a place perhaps familiar to players of D&D computer games... It is there that their next quest is revealed.

Characters

Aramil Galanodel: Male Moon Elf Ranger
Jess Ravenheart: Female Human Wizard
Callie Highhill: Female Halfling Rogue
Thorik Stoneshaper: Male Shield Dward cleric of Moradin
Adrie Vestele: Female Moon Elf Druid of the Old Order

The Our Group Saga Vol. 2: The Fading Point of Light

Chapter 1

Jess Ravenheart sat in the chair of her inn room, studying her spellbook by candlelight. It had been a tenday since the group and her had saved a small thorp from being completely destroyed by a cleric of Talos, the storm god, and now they had just made it to the Friendly Arm Inn, a few days south of the large city of Baldur's Gate and within its borders as a nation. It was there that Aramil, an elven ranger that had saved her life, had found a spellbook stolen by one of the cleric's goblin minions and gave it to her. She had initially dismissed the book as useless, containing nothing more but spells that she had already known, but she had found something interesting a few days previously that she must have overlooked.

She moved to the window and opened it, letting the cool early autumn air into the room. The candle flickered in protest before finally dying. It was dawn, but the large walls of the former keep prevented the sun from shining its light down on the courtyard. Jess looked down. She was on the second story of the inn, but still a good 30 or 40 feet from the ground due to the main floor being where a second story would usually be.

Jess drew in a deep breath. It was true that she had tested the following spell before, but never on herself, it had always been on small objects such as books or pieces of fruit. She knew it would work on her, though, for she had seen her master do such a spell from the very top of his tower while showcasing basic spells to her in her early days as a pupil. She sat on the window ledge, her nerves and instincts telling her not to go through with it. She shut the voices down and calmly spoke the words of the spell before pushing off the ledge. A Flaming Fist guard shouted something below, perhaps having seen people commit suicide this very way during such dark times.

Her stomach lurched into her throat for a half-second of free fall before the spell kicked in. A slight jolt went through her as her descent slowed dramatically. She landed gently on the grassy courtyard ten seconds later, relief at having mastered the spell in a controlled situation washing over her. The guard marched over to her, wearing the plate armor and red-plumed helm that was uniform for his job. "You're coming with me to see the captain, miss," he said, his voice filled with annoyance and displeasure. "The charge is disruption of the peace."

The captain sat in his office on the top floor of the inn. Long ago, when the Flaming Fist was just a mercenary unit contracted to act as Baldur's Gate's security force, they had used the upper two levels of the inn as a small garrison near the borders of Amn, their chief rival. Now that they had signed on to the job permanently during the aftermath of the Spellplague a century ago, they had kept their relationship with the family of the original owners. The captain was a middle-aged human, a veteran of a few small border skirmishes with Amnish mercenaries before being assigned to be the head of the garrison.

"I know, from experiences with our own battlemages that magic-users must practice their spells," the captain began. "However, that is no excuse for the scene you could have stirred up today. Four people watched you jump from the window, including the guard. All of them, not knowing you were a mage--let alone one capable of casting feather fall--thought you were another resident choosing to commit suicide here."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean," Jess began.

"It's best if you do not talk," the captain warned her. "Pr

 

I have never heard of Forgotten Realms, but your story was extremely well written; almost professional in nature. I enjoyed reading it very much.

 

Thanks Mrjop2, for both your reading and your comments. I'm glad you liked the first chapter and I hope that you enjoy the others, as well.

 

Chapter Two

The area northeast of the Friendly Arm Inn was beautiful in early autumn, Callie thought as she walked through the small woodland. It was less intimidating than the Cloak Wood, she added, noting that--at least now--there were no creatures waiting in ambush. Now, she smiled, she could simply walk around and look at the trees and their changing leaves.

Adrie had taken the lead for this journey, the brown-haired newcomer knowing the way to her grove. She carried a walking stick and leaned on it occasionally while walking up hills. "Just another three or so miles," she said as paused upon entering a clearing. "I must warn you, though, we're about to enter the Wood of Sharp Teeth," she added.

"Interesting place for a druid's grove," Aramil replied. "Savage animals everywhere."

"Isn't it the Werewoods now?" Jess asked.

"The Old One values the place for both its privacy and proximity to nature," Adrie answered. "To the Old One and us, however, it will always be the Wood of Sharp Teeth. The grove isn't deep in it, though, and we haven't been able to confirm the rumors of the renegade hiding in it."

"I hope that's all that it is," Thorik grumbled. "Werewolves and a noble who attempted a coup in Baldur's Gate seems to beyond our abilities."

"Well, if they're there," Adrie said, "we haven't seem them. What we have been seeing are a lot of orcs."

Their walking had now taken them to the edge of the field and a rotting wooden sign marked the edge of the forest. "Now entering the Wood of Sharp Teeth," it had once read, but now--sometime in the past century--some traveler had scratched through the old name of the forest and replaced it with its new name. Once again, Callie felt as she entered the wood, the beauty of nature was replaced with hidden ambush spots, foul traps devised to ensnare unwelcome visitors and places where hungry beasts waited to pounce. The rogue removed the crossbow from her back, pausing from her walking only long enough to notch the whipcord into its loaded position and place bolt in the weapon. She scanned the forest with her eyes and ears. It was far too quiet than normal.

Aramil and Adrie had no doubt sensed something amiss as well, Callie thought as she viewed the two elves remove their weapons. Aramil had his bow out while Adrie had unsheathed her scimitar. The sound a high-pitched chuckling laughter hit Callie's ears a second later. She turned to the source of the sound, a being hidden in the foliage, and fired. The bolt struck the creature, causing it to let out a laughing yelp of pain.

Jess knew as well what kind of creature was ambushing them as she heard Callie shooting one of them: Gnolls. Just then, one of the creatures rushed out of the forest, a blur of brown fur and metal. The creature swung his axe towards the defenseless Thorik and watched as the bit slightly into the armor. The dwarf cried out in pain as a fire erupted in his side from the cut. Jess held out her hand towards the attacker and spoke a single arcane word. A pink ball of energy erupted from her hand and slammed into the gnoll, but didn't do enough damage to even make it notice her.

More cackling echoed through the woods as another gnoll and its hyena charges rushed through past the trees and into the path. The hyenas swarmed over Adrie, biting and clawing at the newcomer to the group. The elf woman fended off their attacks with her staff and scimitar, clubbing and slicing at the beasts when they got too close. A single claw ripped through her defenses, shredding through her leather armor and into her skin. Four gashes in her side slowly dripped red blood.

The new gnoll charged towards Aramil, axe raised. The swift Moon Elf stepped aside the overhead strike and drove his elbow into the gnoll's snout. The monster snorted and swung his backhand towards the pesky elf only to find that his target had sprung backwards in the meantime. Aramil rapidly aimed his bow at the gnoll and unleashed an arrow at it, striking it in the chest.

Thorik had now recovered fr

 

An excellent update! Looking forward to more.

 

Once again, thanks for reading.

 

Chapter Three

It was an hour later and Selune was already making her way across the night sky. Through the foliage, if one looked hard, the stars could be seen through leaves and branches. In the middle of the small campsite, a fire burned, illuminating the small clearing they were in, but terminated two feet into the woods. Terminated, that is, only for Callie and Jess. For the halfling and the human, the end of the camp fire's light was followed only by the darkness of the wood.

The others had no disadvantage. Aramil sat perched in a tree, staring out into the distance. For the elf and his keen eyesight, the darkness beyond the camp appeared only to what a human would consider to be early twilight. As the member of the group officially on watch, the ranger scanned the horizon, noting everything that moved. A fox slinked through the outskirts of his vision, hunting for his or her nightly meal. Nothing abnormal, however.

Adrie sat near the fire, the druid obviously exhausted from her ordeal against the hyenas an hour before. Thorik had managed to heal most her wounds, but some still remained. The second elf removed a small stone pot, magically created to appear just as a kettle made of metal would appear by the more powerful druids of her order, from the fire and smelled the steam coming from the top. She removed a few herbs from her pouch and poured them into the stone kettle, stirring them around with a small stick she had picked up from the ground.

"What is that stuff?" Jess said as the pungent odor of the heated herbs assaulted her nostrils. "It smells horrible." The mage was sitting by the fire with Adrie and Callie while Thorik sat a few feet away, hungrily gnawing on a piece of dried meat from his rations.

"It tastes just as bad," Adrie said after taking a tentative sip. "It's a pain remedy," she explained. The druid took another small sip of her potion. "Not as good as a potion of healing," she added, "but it works a little."

"Interesting," Callie said, the halfling retrieving her own dried meat from the fire. "So," she said as sat up. "About how far is the grove from here?"

"Around a quarter of a day's travel from here," Adrie replied after taking another sip of the cooling potion. "We leave around an hour after dawn and we should be there by midsun."

""How'd you become a druid, anyway?" Callie asked, slightly curious.

"It's not that interesting a story," Adrie began. "Quite simply: I was born one. Two of the druids in our grove fell in love and married. I was the result. With all of my family and friends there," she continued, "I really didn't want to become anything else. To be honest, this is one of the few times I've ventured out of the Wood."

"You haven't fought much either, I'd guess," Callie stated. "Your shapechanging damn near killed you."

Adrie lowered her head and took a sip of her brew. The movement brought a dull throb of pain from one of the claw marks on her body not fully healed by Thorik. "No," she said. "The majority of my work within the grove was primarily non-combative."

"Just watch yourself next time," Jess said. "Don't fight more than you can handle."

Thorik scooted closer to the fire, the dwarf beginning to warm his hands near the flames. "Made a big tactical mistake," he said. "Don't worry about it, though. By the look of you afterwards," he added "you won't be doing it again."

"No, I won't," Adrie replied.

***

Jess looked back slightly at the fire eight hours later. Everyone else in the group had turned in and she had drawn the final watch for the evening. The mage yawned slightly with boredom as she scanned the woods for any signs of anything hostile. In all of the time that she had been a member of the group, she had never had the misfortune of getting the last watch shift. Until now.

The mage scanned the horizon as best she could; the dying fire and Selune's light helped her already dark-adjusted eyes see farther than she had been able to before the group had turned in earlier. It was no match

 

I anxiously await the next chapter! This is really good.

 

Chapter 4

Thorik stretched his neck muscles as he lead the group through the forest, lead by Adrie on the path to her beleaguered grove. The dwarf removed his helmet for a second, risking an attack from any more surprises to at least get a brief respite from the weight. He wiped the sweat off of his brow and then replaced the helmet upon his head.

"About a mile to go," Adrie said as she passed a tree familiar to her. The gnarled oak with three large sections jutting out from the stump was a favorite place for her to go and meditate when she was a child.

"Good," Thorik grumbled as he continued to make his way along the path. Since the beginning of the morning, the dwarf had been in a bad mood that had worsened with the walking. He held his wounded side, only partially healed after the gnoll attack the previous day. All of the walking made his armor rub uncomfortably over the wound.

The trail continued on, ending an hour later in a slight clearing. Aramil, who by now had taken the lead, letting his dwarven friend rest his legs a little by walking further down in the marching order, was the first to see the grove. It would have been beautiful at its prime, he thought, with small huts made from wood and leaves as the roofs. A central lodge dominated the circular grove, also made from wood, two tall trees jutting out from the ground in the center of the building. Adrie let out a cry of shock as she saw the state of it now. The majority of the houses had been trampled down, the light walls having been roughly kicked down, causing the roofs to fall violently to the ground. Dead druids lay on the ground, axe wounds on their bodies. Adrie rushed to one, but Aramil paid no attention to the scene. It was a shame, yes, that these people had to die, he thought. He scanned the area and the ground, but the culprits may still be in the area, he thought.

The elven druid dropped to her knees and sobbed over the body of her friend. For years, Jastra had been a close ally and very good friend. Now, the elven girl was only a corpse laying on the ground, the fatal axe wound in her chest. Her blade lay nearby, dropped only upon receiving the final blow. It was covered in a dark-colored blood. "Orcs..." Adrie whispered.

"Orc bodies," Aramil said a second later and many yards away. The rest of the group had left Adrie with the body of her friend, letting the druid mourn her loss in private. Five dead raiders lay strewn about the area, the majority of them bearing bite marks on their throats. "Looks like they shapeshifted to fight them off," the ranger added as he noted this.

"I can't believe that they could have been slaughtered like this," Jess said as the mage looked over the battlefield.

"They might not have seen it coming," Thorik said as he stood up, the dwarf having been kneeling over a dead druid. "Damn orcs don't have any concept of honor or a fair fight. For all we know, they came during the night."

"No," Aramil said as he looked over the bodies once more. "The way the corpses are, they haven't been dead long. I say maybe an hour, two," he guessed.

Callie was also on one knee on the ground, looking at the body of a male druid at her side. She studied the body, looking for the wound that killed him. "Odd," she said as carefully moved his clothing around. She moved up from his chest to his neck, fingers feeling the darkened skin. "This one was strangled," she spoke up, causing the others to congregate around her. "Not with hands either," she added. "Something round."

"There's nothing like that around here that can do such a thing," Jess said after a quick glance around the area. "The limbs around here can't wrap around a neck like that."

"Anything magical?" Aramil asked, the slight edge he had in his voice whenever the discussion of anything arcane came up still there.

"Not that I know of," Jess replied.

"I do," Adrie replied from behind them, the rest of the group jolting slightly in surprise. "I know," she sadly added.

"What did it, then?" Thorik asked.

 

Chapter 5

Aramil lowered his hands into the stream, bringing the cool and clear water to his lips. The group had reached the stream a few minutes before, and were stopping for a few minutes to rest before continuing with the journey to the orc encampment. The elf kicked at the ground as he stood up. He had heard of orc attacks before, and had seen a failed one against his own boyhood hometown as a small child. Never before, however, had he seen such carnage as he had at the druids' grove. He shook the image out of his head. The only thing that he had to do at the moment was make sure that it would never happen again by routing the orcs and killing their leader.

"All right," he said as he finished refilling his waterskin. "It's time to start back up," he finished. The group sat up, uncomplaining save for Callie grumbling that the orcs should have saved them all the time by remaining in the grove.

Aramil looked at Adrie as the party began to head out. The druid seemed to be taking the destruction well, much better than he would have, he added. She did seem, however, to be distant. It was as if a part of her were still at the grove, tending to the dead. On second thought, he added, she wasn't taking it as well as he had originally thought. Still, she was attentive to the road, and would likely be able to fight competently with the others. Besides, if the orcs were powerful enough to sack the grove so completely, they would need all of the help that they could get.

The ranger turned his attention to Jess, who was using her staff as a walking stick to make her way through the somewhat difficult undergrowth that had crept its way over the path in the last few decades of underuse. He hadn't meant to seem so cold to her earlier that morning, but her questions had hit a nerve. It was a nerve that was raw even after the long passage of time. But still, she didn't know and the curiosity was likely eating away at her. He couldn't blame her, for he would want to know as well if a friend of his seemed troubled by something.

Still, he added as he studied the line of trees far off into the horizon, deeper than anyone other than Adrie could see, he wasn't ready to let anyone know why he was wary around the arcane. Whenever he felt ready, which he sadly remarked may not even be in the lifespans of his current companions, he would tell.

The ranger dismissed the thoughts as he continued down the trail. He and the rest of the group had more to worry about than the past. If the Old One was correct, the first orc sentry post should be less than a mile away. "Stop here," Aramil said aloud. "The sentries should be close by. Callie..."

The halfling sheathed her short sword and removed her backpack, unpacking the crossbow and box of bolts she kept on it. "You and me go scoutin'," she finished for him.

Aramil nodded. "On the left of the path, go about 30 paces and then head north. I'll do the same but from the right side of the stream."

"My paces or your paces?" the halfling joked, knowing that the elf meant 30 paces for someone his size.

"The rest of you stay behind," Aramil cautioned. "At least for now. We'll come back once we're done."

The elf and halfling moved through the forest, each taking great care not to make a sound. Callie moved quicker through the forest than Aramil, years of living on the streets of the capital of Amn having loosened her steps. Aramil, though, was no bumbling knight. He too moved silently through the grass and leaves.

The two stopped some time later, each in a suitable tactical position for their strengths. Callie had snuck up closer to the orc sentries, her eyes not as sharp as the elf's, who was around 100 feet behind her, bow at the ready. The two had decided to strike at the same time, to take both sentries out without having to worry about one of them escaping to alert the rest of the camp.

The rogue watched as the almost porcine sentry in front of her stopped for a second, listening to a bird call off in the distance. That, Callie though

 

Chapter 6

Thorik stood up from his short rest as Aramil and Callie appeared in the clearing with them. The dwarf picked up his axe and nodded at the returning scouts. "Things went well?" he asked, clearing his throat.

The elf nodded. "We picked off a couple of their pickets," Aramil stated, the ranger looking over the rest of the group.

Adrie looked up at Aramil from her seated position. The ranger noticed the red coloring and puffiness of her eyes, as well as the few tears that had escaped her hand. She was seated next to Jess, the mage turning her head to look at Aramil with the druid. "I suppose that we're ready to attack the camp."

Callie nodded for Aramil. "I also snuck ahead to take a quick peek at the camp," the rogue explained. "Some of them have left, they might have even disbanded for the most part."

"We need to find them," Adrie said, her voice filled with a desire for vengeance. "We need to make sure they never kill again!" The druid paused for a second, lips trembling as she realized what she was saying.

"Don't worry," Aramil reassured her. "We'll stop the orcs and make sure that they don't repeat their actions."

Adrie nodded, ashamed of her words. She stood up, gathering her gear and began to walk the trail that Aramil and Callied had entered from.

Jess watched as the druid walked away, followed shortly by Thorik and Callie, the halfling the only one of the three that knew the way to the camp. She turned her attention to Aramil, the two now the only two beings left in the makeshift camp. "Do you really think she should go along?" Jess asked Aramil.

The elf began to walk with the rest of the group, giving a slight nod to Jess to let the mage know that he wanted her to keep close to him for the conversation. "You do know that she can likely hear you?" he stated, motioning to the pointed ears that the two shared.

Jess shrugged at his question. "I'm just wondering if she'd be able to fight them effectively," she stated. "I know that she's been through a lot and that she's right to feel the way she does, but it could get all of us killed, not just her."

Aramil nodded at Jess' words. "I understand your concerns," he said. "Personally, though, I don't think that we have a whole lot to worry about, at least when it comes to her."

"What makes you say that?" Jess replied. "How can you be sure?"

"To tell the truth," Aramil said with a slight smile on his face. "I really can't. The thing is, even with diminished numbers in the camp--if Callie's intelligence is correct--we need her in a fight. It's trust out of necessity if anything else."

Jess held her head low. "It is that dangerous, isn't it?" she asked him.

"It will be difficult, that's for sure," Aramil said. "I hope you've prepared your best spells."

"Yes," she replied, surprised that there was not a hint of sarcasm or disdain in his voice. Aramil had always been distrustful of magic ever since she had known him, and their conversation earlier in the day when she asked him about his fears had been met with near anger. "I did."

"Including Burning Hands?" Aramil asked.

Jess paused. Weeks ago she had used that spell for the first time on living targets: a group of goblins that had stolen a town's holy symbol. She had been devastated emotionally by the results; watching the goblins slowly burn to death. "Yes," she slowly replied.

Aramil nodded in appreciation. "We're going to need it," the elf said. "You sure that you can use it?"

Jess kept walking in silence for a few seconds, the scent of burning flesh returning to her nostrils as the memory was awakened. "Well?" Aramil asked. Jess blinked her eyes quickly. "Yes," she replied. "I have to."

Aramil turned around look at Jess, a reassuring smile upon his face. "Good," he said. He slowed in his steps to allow her to catch up with him. As she did, he gently patted her shoulder.

***

It was minutes later, and the sun shone through the trees on the bloody ground. Aramil dodged an orc's blade as it arced towards h