Session #16 - Red Rover, Red Rover, Send Red Ruth Right Over

“See?  I told you.  No one ever listens to Kent.”

 

“What’s done is done,” said Almont.  “I will speak to Olanthius.  Hopefully we won’t have to fight him.”  With that he walked through the door and back into the larger room, the others following.

 

Standing near the center of the room was a knight in a full suit of plate armor, the metal of which had the dull hue of infernal iron.  He wore a purple cape clasped together with a tarnished broach in the shape of nine arrows radiating outward, a symbol the group had seen used by various heretics in Elturel.  His left hand held an ornate torch that strangely appeared to be made out of onyx, with three thin bands of metal around its circumference, one infernal iron, one gold, and the upper most platinum.  A flame burned from its top, the colors difficult to describe because no one in the party had ever seen these colors before, so they had no frame of reference.  The fire was clearly of magical origin, both mesmerizing and painful to look at in equal parts.  A sheathed sword was strapped to his back.  The only parts of the being himself that were visible were his pallid hands, their fingers unnaturally long and ending with long, sharp, black nails, and the two orbs that glowed red behind his visor.

 

“I am Olanthius.  Before I destroy you I would know why you have come here.”

 

Almont stepped forward.  “I am Almont Bonecrusher, priest of Kiri-Jolith and member of the Order of the Gauntlet.  We traveled here with Lola to save the city of Elturel and its people, preventing it from being pulled into the river Styx and returning it to the material plane.”

 

Olanthius stared at the cleric with his flickering red eyes.  The torch burned in his hand but made no sound.  The silence was palpable.

 

“The hellriders of this crypt have been set free.  Was this your doing?”

 

“It was.  We burned their contracts and released them.”

 

Olanthius looked to Lola.  “Lola, is what this man says the truth?”

 

Lola flitted forward to hover next to Almont.  “Yes.  What he says is true.  These are my friends.”

 

Olanthius turned his gaze back to Almont.  “Thank you for doing what I could not and freeing the souls of my brothers.  I am indebted to you.  However, as you know I am still sworn to Zariel and cannot work against her.”

 

“Here we go,” Kent whispered resignedly, his right hand inching towards his scimitar.

 

“At least not directly,” Olanthius continued.

 

Kent exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing.

 

“What do you wish to know?” Olanthius asked.

 

“We seek Zariel’s sword,” Almont began.  “We are told it is a powerful artifact and may help is save Elturel.  Do you have it?”

 

“No, the sword you seek is not here.  You should find Mad Maggie and ask her of its whereabouts.”

 

“We did.  She sent us here.”

 

Olanthius was silent for a few moments.  “In that case, the devil Bel is the most likely to possess it.  Have you visited his forge?”

 

“Maggie told us of Bel’s forge, but warned that without an introduction from a powerful devil he would likely destroy us immediately.”

 

A sound echoed within Olanthius’ helm that sounded a bit like a chuckle and the torch flame became smaller.  “Come,” he said, walking directly past them and into the living quarters behind them.  Once there he pulled a book off the shelf and removed a piece of parchment from it.  Laying it flat on the desk he produced a quill, seemingly out of nowhere, that looked to be made of a spinagon’s spine and began to write.

 

The ornate letters emerged from the quill in what appeared to be ichor, but as Olanthius continued across the page what he had written began to fade until it disappeared completely.  When he finished he handed Almont what looked to be a blank piece of paper.  “There is no love loss between Bel and I, but what we share is a hatred for Zariel.  And that hatred should be enough for him to grant you an audience.  At least I hope so.”

 

“And if not?” asked Kent.

 

Olanthius looked at the dwarf.  “Then, my friend, even those magic boots you wear won’t allow you to run away fast enough.”

 

Kent shook his head while Donyxn stifled a laugh.

 

“I ask one thing in return.  If you defeat Zariel, burn my contract with her.  She keeps it on her at all times.  If you kill her, I ask that you burn it and set me free.”

 

“It would be an honor,” Almont said, his head bowing slightly.

 

Katla took a step forward.  “Is there anything else in this crypt that may help defeat Zariel?”

 

“No, there are no other items of value here, despite what all the treasure seekers believed.  Only the potion and scroll you found, which you may keep as I have no use for them.”

 

“Do you know of any other artifacts in Avernus that we should seek out?”

 

“Avernus is an unusual place.  Many strange and wondrous items find their ways here.  But I am confined to this crypt, so I do not know much of what happens outside.”

 

“Is there anything you can tell us about Lola?” asked the sorceress.  Lola looked the elf fondly and smiled as she beat her wings.

 

“Lola is a powerful warrior,” said Olanthius, looking at the hollyphant.  “When enlarged she crushed hundreds of demons and devils under her feet, impaled them with her tusks, and obliterated them with her magic.”  He stopped and thought for a moment.  “And Zariel’s sword never shone more brightly than it did when she rode atop Lola.”

 

Katla nodded and turned to Almont.  “Thank you for your help, Olanthius,” the cleric said.  “We will take our leave and continue on our quest.”  

 

As they turned to leave, Olanthius spoke again.  “There is another who may be able to help you.”  With that they all stopped and turned.

 

“There is a cave in the Arches of Dolach, within which is imprisoned a giant demon named Kostchtchie.  He is guarded by hellhounds and tormented by chain devils.”

 

With the mention of chain devils Kent gave a shudder.

 

“He is a sworn enemy of Zariel, who has kept him there for decades.  While normally I would advise against any dealings with fiends, his hatred of her runs so deep that he would likely become an ally, or at the very least try to destroy her himself.”

 

“Why doesn’t she just kill it?” Kent asked.

 

“Because it’s a demon,” replied Donyxn, not taking his eyes off Olanthius.  The knight nodded.

 

“OK, so, can somebody fill in the blanks for the dwarf please?”  Kent asked angrily.

 

Donyxn looked at his friend.  “Because Kostchtchie is so powerful that if it died here on Avernus its life force would return to the abyss, where it would re-form and grow strong again.  And the thing that drives demons like no other is revenge.  It would surely return to Avernus and Zariel would have to fight it again.  So better to simply keep it here, trapped.”

 

Olanthius nodded again.  “The tiefling is correct.”

 

Katla had pulled out their map of Avernus.  It was always a bit disorienting at first, because some of the creatures and objects drawn upon it appeared in different locations each time they viewed it.  “The arches are beyond the Bonebrambles, so we’ll be heading in that direction.”

 

“Is there anything we can do for you, Olanthius?” Almont asked.

 

The knight shook his head.  “If Zariel discovers I provided you with information, let us say that the punishment will not be… gentle.  So keep our meeting secret.  And destroy her.”

 

With that the party retraced their steps and returned to the surface, the statue-like knights outside paying them no heed.  As they walked towards the vehicles they saw a second Devil’s Ride parked nearby, this one with a sidecar attached to it.  

 

“No.  No.  Absolutely not!” Kent shouted drawing his scimitar and running towards the Tormentor.

 

As the others turned to look they saw why Kent was so agitated.  Standing atop the front of the vehicle was a green-skinned humanoid in leather armor and wrapped in a cloak of green and yellow feathers.  And he was urinating off the front of the Tormentor.

 

Kent stopped and waved his scimitar at the creature.  “Off of there!  Now!”

 

It turned and looked at the dwarf, then began to laugh as it continued to piss.  “Have no fear, little dwarf,” he said jovially.  “Elvish piss is a fine elixir!”

 

Kent’s face was red with rage.  “Don’t defile Mildred!”

 

“Quack,” said Mildred the duck decoy.

 

Upon hearing the quack the creature threw his head back and laughed.  “How delightful!”

 

The others approached and were now standing alongside Kent. 

 

“What do you want, fey eladrin?” Katla asked with a surprising amount of venom in her voice.

 

The creature looked at her and grinned.  “Come cousin, no need to be so disrespectful with your tone.”

 

Donyxn grinned in return, holding a pair of arrows in his right hand and using their tips to scratch an itch on his back.  “Shall I knock him off for you, Katla?”

 

It looked to Donyxn and winked at him before returning to the sorceress.  “Katla… Katla… where have I heard that name before?”  His grin broadened and he clapped his hands.  “Yes, that’s it!  You were Sensen’s little helper, were you not?  Pity what happened to him.  I hear the drem are still treating him to their, shall we say, hospitality.  I hear he still calls out your name, asking why you have not come to save him.”  

 

The temperature around Katla dropped sharply.  “Do not say his name, trickster.” 

 

With that the eladrin gracefully hopped off the Tormentor and sauntered toward his own vehicle.  “How rude of me, cousin.  I beg your forgiveness.”  He gave a curtsey in her direction as he passed by and laughed loudly again.  “Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Smiler.  I’m traveling with my companion and our soul coin seems to have expired.”

 

At the mention of Smiler’s companion, from behind the Tormentor emerged an eight-foot tall, four armed monstrosity, its green skin spread taut over its muscular frame.  Its face looked like some kind of demented cross between an elf and a wolf, and a shock of long white hair cascaded down from its head and along its spine.  Like Smiler, it too grinned.  But unlike that of the eladrin, its grin was feral and barely disguised its hunger.  It was a draegloth, a cross between a drow elf and a demon.

 

Smiler looked to his companion and then back to the party.  “Perhaps you would be so kind as to give us one of your soul coins.”

Donyxn was now tapping his bow with his arrowheads, his pointed teeth exposed by his grin.  “And what would you offer us in return?”

 

“Why, my undying friendship, of course.”

 

“I know where there is a chest full of soul coins,” Donyxn said, using the arrows to point over his shoulder.  “Back in there.  Go speak with Olanthius.  I’m sure he’d be happy to share some with you.” 

 

Smiley made a mocking sad frown.  “You would truly send me to my death so casually?  I suppose I should expect nothing less of a half-breed.”

 

The smile left Donyxn’s face.

 

“Perhaps I’ll just need to take one of your soul coins.  And maybe this Tormentor as well.”

 

“Die!” Katla shouted, a bolt of frozen energy flying forth from her hands and striking Smiler in the torso.  Donyxn followed with a pair of arrows, both of which struck true hitting the eladrin in the chest, knocking him backwards

 

Smiler reached down and broke off the two arrow shafts, his expression now a combination of pain and determination.  “That hurt.”  He drew a short sword and looked to be taking a step forward when he vanished, reappearing about thirty feet closer with his sword extended in front of him, pointed directly at Katla.  “Dance,” he said.

 

Katla began to dance.  It was not graceful as she struggled unsuccessfully to break free of the spell, her movements jerky and clearly not within her control.  Smiler laughed.  “Dance little elf.”

 

Those extra moments of gloating proved costly.  Almont ran towards Smiler, his hands empty.  Because he approached at an angle, the eladrin didn’t notice until the cleric was almost upon him.  “What, are we to wrestle on the ground like animals, priest?”

 

Smiler didn’t try to prevent Almont from grabbing his shoulder, figuring his reflexes would get him free of the clumsy-looking cleric’s grasp.  So he was completely taken by surprise as a surge of necrotic energy flowed through Almont’s hand and into his body, coursing through his veins and polluting his blood.  Smiler’s face went ashen, his cheeks and eyes sinking inwards as his skin seemed to shrivel, his grin turning to a look of pain and confusion.   The expression on Almont’s face, on the other hand, was maniacal.  “Who’s laughing now, eladrin?”

 

The draegloth teleported to a spot directly behind Almont, striking the priest with one of its claws as it materialized.  Almont released his grip on Smiler, who backed away in stumble, and managed to deflect a second blow from the creature.

 

A blur passed to Almont’s left.  It was Kent, who gave a wink as he sprinted by before slashing Smiler twice with his scimitar, green blood spraying out of each fresh cut as the eladrin backed away.  

 

But Smiler was made out of sturdy stuff and still had a few tricks up his sleeve.  The elf whispered some words, and Kent and Almont both got confused looks on their faces as if they didn’t know how they’d found themselves in the middle of a battle and weren’t sure who they were supposed to be fighting.

 

Smiler grinned at them.  “What’s wrong little dwarf?  Confused?”

 

A bolt of fire impacted Smiler’s left side, followed by a pair of arrows, knocking him off his feet and wiping the smile from his face.  He looked up to see Katla, still dancing but now within a whirlwind of fire she was trying to control, and Donyxn notching another pair of arrows into his bow.  “The soul coin might not be worth it,” muttered Smiler as he disappeared and reappeared back by his Devil’s Ride.  

 

Smiler’s eyes were still on Katla, her movements more fluid now.  It looked as though she was no longer trying to break free of the dancing spell, leaving her body to move freely and instead focusing on the maelstrom of fire circling her.  “Oh no…” he said quietly as the swirling fire rose into the air before changing direction and incinerating him, leaving behind little more than a small pile of smoldering bone and ash, his short sword having been blasted free and looking remarkably unblemished.

 

The draegloth, seeing the flames strike Smiler, teleported away from its melee with Almont and reappeared next to the embers that were once the eladrin.  Now badly outnumbered the draegloth didn’t stand a chance.  A ray of frost from Katla, who stopped dancing with Smiler’s death, followed by a pair of Donyxn’s arrows shook the creature from its stupor, just in time to see the hammer-and-mace wielding cleric and scimitar-armed dwarf attack it from both sides.  The draegloth fought until the bitter end, finally succumbing to a spine-severing chop from behind at the hands of Kent.

 

Katla and Donyxn joined Almont and Kent as they surveyed the scene, the tiefling retrieving Smiler’s sword.  

 

“What was that all about, lass?” Kent asked Katla.  She shot the rogue a stern look before her expression softened. “Something from the past,” she answered, the tone of her voice making it clear that she wasn’t going to share any more.

 

“Well, at least we know Madhi owes us some soul coins next time we see him,” said Donyxn, examining the short sword.  When he looked up from it everyone was staring at him.  

 

“Is there something you’d like to share with the group?” Kent asked.

 

Donyxn looked at each of them in turn.  “You don’t remember?  Smiler.  Smiler the Defiler.  This was the warlord who had the bounty on his head.”

 

“Ha!” Kent laughed.  “So much for us not being assassins!”

 

“Well, to be fair we didn’t hunt him down and kill him.  I mean, he pissed on your Tormentor and insulted Katla.  Those were reasons enough to kill him.”

 

A search of Smiler’s vehicle didn’t reveal anything of value.  They stashed the eladrin’s sword in their bag of holding, not only because of its value as an enchanted weapon but also as the proof they’d need to claim the bounty.

 

Donyxn was admiring their newly acquired Devil’s Ride when Lola flew over to him.  “I’d like to ride with you if I can sit in the side compartment.”  

 

“This should be fun,” Donyxn said, grinning.

 

The ranger then set a cordon of arrows around the site and they took a rest, creating a small enclosure using the three vehicles.  Afterwards they used some netting and ropes to tie Donyxn’s original Devil’s Ride to the back of the Tormentor.  Once it was secured they set out to meet up with Red Ruth, Donyxn and Lola on Smiler’s Devil’s Ride and the other three on the Tormentor.

 

An orange glow painted the southern horizon, becoming more apparent as they left the crypt and headed west.  The source soon came into focus, a lake of lava emerging from the haze, waves of heat rising off of it.  It was oddly beautiful in its own way, the shore comprised of shiny fields of glass-like black rock, the lava waves lapping at its edges colored deep red tinged with black, while the center was a bright orange.  The lake had a crescent shape and wound back south of the crypt, but it was impossible to gauge its true size due to the flatness of the terrain and the way the immense heat disturbed the air. 

 

They rode in silence for hours.  Donyxn didn’t stray far from the Tormentor this time.  Every now and again his Devil’s Ride would come close enough that Almont could pick up the tiefling’s thoughts and every time he was regaling Lola with another story, all of which she seemed to find incredibly enjoyable.  He’d found his perfect audience.

 

The Bonebrambles began to emerge from the horizon in front of them, its magnitude only becoming apparent as they got closer.  What looked to be one continuous field of brambles revealed itself to be two distinct areas, a smaller patch to the southeast of the main one.  

 

Madhi had provided them specific directions to the entrance they were to use, which was a good thing because the nature of the brambles was such that they would have almost surely have missed it otherwise.  Even Donyxn’s ranger skills and magic goggles only allowed him to spy the arched opening in the dense wall of seemingly dead vegetation a few moments before the rest were able to discern it.  

 

They parked a few dozen feet from the entrance and dismounted, at which point the sheer size of the Bonebrambles became evident.  The wall of brambles rose eight feet in front of them, the height fairly consistent as far as the eye could see.  The outer edge was an impenetrable wall of tangled branches and vines, all devoid of foliage and many sporting thorns in sizes ranging from a fingernail to a stiletto blade.  When one looked directly at a section of the wall of brush it appeared completely still, even in the ever-present wind of Avernus.  But those sections visible in their peripheral vision seemed to move ever so slightly, as if by the passing of a creature or, more concerningly, as if the bramble itself were alive. 

 

Donyxn notched a pair of arrows in his bow and stepped through the arch, almost immediately disappearing from view.  He returned about a minute later.  “The path is clear and true.  It’s wide enough for the Devil’s Ride, but not the Tormentor.”  The ranger scanned the outer edges of the brambles, then looked to the section to the southeast.  “There may be a spot over there where we can camouflage the vehicles.”

 

Sure enough, he was right.  A curved area in the outer wall of brambles was a perfect spot to park the Tormentor.  They used their netting to cover the vehicle, carefully pulling down some sections of brambles to array around it.  After only a few minutes work the Tormentor was all but invisible and they walked back towards the arch.  

 

“Lola, would you fly up above and see if you can find Red Ruth and let her know we’re coming?” asked Katla.  Lola smiled and nodded before increasing her altitude and disappearing above the canopy.

 

Donyxn rode slowly in front, the others following on foot.  It was claustrophobic.  While the path was dimly lit, being surrounded on all sides by spiked brambles was disconcerting.  The path wound its way such that within a few minutes it was impossible to tell what direction they were heading.  

 

After what seemed like an hour they emerged into an oval-shaped clearing roughly eighty feet at its widest point and perhaps forty at its narrowest.  There were no brambles above the clearing, bringing light into the space.  Four different paths appeared to converge on the clearing.  Their directions had not told them of this, and for the moment they were stuck.  Donyxn dismounted and the four shared some food and water while they considered their options.

 

It was Donyxn who first saw them.  In one fluid motion he dropped the food in his hand, pulled a pair of arrows from his quiver, and fired.  The others turned to follow the flight of the arrows as they reached for their own weapons, and it took a few seconds for them to comprehend what they were seeing.  It was as if a section of the brambles had come to life as an eight-foot tall humanoid.  Where the arrows hit broken branches and pieces flew off the creature.

 

“Shambling mounds,” the ranger said calmly as he reached for another pair of arrows.  “Slow and dumb, but very, very dangerous.”

 

“There’s one behind us as well,” Kent noted, his scimitar at the ready.

 

Katla extended her arms from her sides, each pointing at one of the creatures, and let loose a pair of frozen rays.  The creatures moved so slowly that they weren’t hard to hit, and the icy energy created frozen patches in their bodies that shattered as they continued to close on the party.

 

Kent rushed toward the mound that Donyxn hit with his arrows, landing a pair of blows with his sword but catching a backhand from the creature in return, knocking him off his feet.  As he landed and began to get up he saw another pair of arrows strike home, followed by a bolt of radiant energy from the cleric that tore a hole through the things abdominal area.  

 

The second mound had now reached the center of the clearing and the melee broke apart into two separate battles, Almont and Katla fighting one of the creatures while Kent and Donyxn dealt with the other.  

 

The dwarf and tiefling dispatched their opponent relatively quickly, it having taken considerable damage already.  When they turned to see how the others were faring they were momentarily stunned.  The shambling mound held Almont aloft in one of its thick, brambled arms, the cleric at least ten feet above the ground.  Almont’s arms were free and he was battering the creature’s arm with his warhammer and mace while Katla blasted it with balls of cold energy.  

 

As Kent rushed forward Donyxn fired an arrow at the arm holding Almont, but hit the cleric instead, glancing off the shoulder of his breastplate.  Almont shot Donyxn an angry look but the tiefling just shrugged as he continued to shoot his arrows.  The mound was trying to squeeze the cleric, but his magic armor protected him from the worst of the beast’s strength.  

 

They wore the thing down quick, the final blows coming via Kent’s scimitar as the creature collapsed into a mound of debris that resembled something a farmer would burn after clearing his field.  

 

As they caught their breaths Lola landed.  “Amazing timing as always, little one,” said Kent.

 

Lola smiled.  “Thank you Kent.”  The dwarf shook his head and began to clean the sap-like gunk from his clothes.  

 

Lola turned to Katla.  “I found Red Ruth.  We just need to take the path over there,” she said, using her trunk to point at one of the openings.  “It’s just a few minutes walk.”

 

With that they followed the new path, and as promised arrived in a smaller clearing.  This one was covered across the top, blocking out the infernal sky.  Within was a section of brambles that looked more intentionally arrayed than the rest.  A piece of burlap hung from the section.  From the other side a hand emerged and pulled the curtain back as Red Ruth emerged from her hovel.

 

It was very apparent why she was called Red Ruth.  The witch wore a tattered burgundy robe, various sized pieces of brambles caught in it.  Around her waist was a leather belt from which hung a handful of small leather pouches and three shrunken heads, their eyes and mouths sewn shut with twine.  From her neck hung and assortment of charms, pieces of bone, and what appeared to be a fairly fresh eyeball on a barbed hook.  She appeared to be human, or at least she was once, and her face was painted with dried rust-colored blood, pieces of which flaked off when she spoke.  Fiery red dreadlocked hair hung down to the middle of her back.  In her left hand she held a gnarled wooden staff topped by yet another shrunken head.  In her right she held what appeared to be a freshly removed human hand.  She gnawed on the index finger as she approached.

 

“I’m Red Ruth.  Your hollyphant tells me Madhi sent you to guard my home while I visit his emporium.”

 

Normally Katla would have spoken to the witch, but it was clear she was trying her hardest not to vomit.  The rotting stench of the clearing only intensified when Ruth emerged, the smell wafting out of her home somehow making things even worse.  

 

Donyxn seemed the least bothered by all of it so he stepped forward.  “Yes, Madhi sent us.  How long will you be away, Red Ruth?”

 

“Only for a day,” she replied, having finished the index finger and now moving on to the thumb, a drop of blood slowly rolling down her chin.  “Oh, where are my manners?  You must be hungry after your journey, yes?”  She held out the half-eaten hand as an offering.  Katla threw up a little in her mouth.

 

“Thank you sister, but we have already eaten,” Donyxn said smoothly.  

 

“Then come inside and we will discuss our arrangement.  It isn’t safe to stand about outside for too long.”

 

The inside of Ruth’s hovel was much larger than they expected, and also more disgusting.  It was a single space, roughly fifty feet square, the ceiling just high enough that Donyxn didn’t have to stoop to ensure his horns didn’t scrape it.  The source of the stench was immediately apparent, one section of the room draped in entrails and body parts of assorted creatures in various states of decay.  A low buzzing sound permeated the space, the viscera attracting a swarm of black flies.  In the center of the room was a clay chimney that exited through the ceiling, a burning fire within heating the contents of a bubbling pot that hung from an iron rack.  A bed of twigs and straw lay near the fire.  Various jars and pots lined the walls and a locked trunk sat in one corner.  If it weren’t for the body parts, it would be downright tolerable. 

 

“Make yourselves at home,” Ruth said.  She unlocked her trunk, withdrew and item, then closed it again.  She walked to Donyxn and put a soul coin in his hand.  “One coin now, two when I return tomorrow.  That was the deal.”

 

Donyxn nodded and flipped the coin to Almont, who caught it.  “Forgive me for asking, Ruth, but what does your home need protection from,” the ranger asked.  

 

“The Bonebrambles are a dangerous place.  There are wandering shambling mounds, as you have already seen.  It is also haunted by the undead.  Cursed dryads wander the brambles, though you should be able to handle them.  The most dangerous thing is the large undead tree.  It has destroyed my home before.”

 

“A large undead tree, you say,” said Kent, a combination of disbelief and concern in his voice.

 

“Aye.  When it is in the area I use my magic to conceal my home.  My magic is strong, but not powerful enough to destroy it.”

 

“If we were to destroy this tree, that would be of help to you, would it not?” asked Almont.

 

“Of course.  Should you destroy it, I would certainly offer you something in reward.  But we can discuss that later, for I must be on my way.  I have business to transact at Ichor’s Aweigh, and I do so enjoy sampling the delicacies of Z’neth’s larvae farm.”  With that she placed a few seemingly random jars in her pack and left.

 

“I wonder what’s in the pot,” Kent murmured as he walked towards the fireplace and reached for the lid with a pair of tongs that were nearby.

 

Ruth stuck her head back inside the hovel.  “Oh, I forgot to mention.  Whatever you do, don’t touch what’s in the pot.  And make sure the fire doesn’t go out.”  She then disappeared again behind the burlap curtain.

 

Kent stopped mid-motion, put the tongs down, and walked back to his pack.

 

The party arranged themselves as far away from the dangling entrails as possible, Almont burning some of his ceremonial incense to give them at least a slight reprieve from the stench.  But that didn’t make it any better, just different. 

 

As they finished laying out their bedrolls Lightbringer began to glow.  There were undead near.  At the same time Lola entered the hovel.  None of them had seen the hollyphant leave, but she had been out exploring the area.  “There are three glowing creatures on the other side of the far wall,” she explained.  “They look to be sad women, but almost transparent.”

 

“Banshees,” Almont said, withdrawing his warhammer and mace and striding toward the entrance.  

 

The others followed and as they circled around the outside of Ruth’s hovel, sure enough they encountered a trio of banshees that appeared to have been attracted by the feeling of fresh death emanating from Ruth’s.  

 

They caught the banshees unaware and their initial wave of attacks surprised the undead.  Katla threw a chromatic orb that impacted one with a thunderclap, though the effect was much less than she anticipated.  Donynxn let fly a pair of arrows surrounded by a hail of magical thorns that raked two of the undead, while Almont rushed forward, Lightbringer glowing brightly in his hand as he brought it down on one of the creatures causing it to burst apart in a ball of unholy light.  

 

Always diplomatic, Kent tried to communicate with the banshees even as the battle kicked off.  “We’ll let you live and be on your way, ladies, if you tell us what you know about the undead tree.”  

 

“The tree wanders,” screeched one.  “We are not here for the tree, we are here for your souls.”  With that it flew forward and struck the dwarf in the chest, its spectral hand seeming to go inside his body for a moment as he staggered back from the blow.

 

The other banshee’s chest expanded before it threw its arms out and unleashed a wail, a psychic blast of power that knocked all of the group back, their hands going to their heads as the sound bored into their minds.  When it stopped all were partially stunned and deafened, blood running from their ears.  Kent, who had also been struck in the chest, was on his knees clutching at his heart, blood tears falling from his eyes.  Another blast like that would likely kill them all.  They had to muster the last of their strength and end this.

 

Katla rebounded first, a crackling ball of lighting leaving her hand and obliterating the banshee that had just screamed.  Donyxn fired a pair of arrows from his knees striking the other, Almont following with a bolt of divine radiant energy.  Somehow Kent made it to his feet, and as the banshee reeled backwards from the force of the others’ attacks he sliced through it, wisps of its undead essence sticking to his silvered scimitar like oily smoke before dissipating along with the creature.  

 

Kent fell back to his knees, his breathing raspy and shallow.  The dwarf looked fifty years older, his face a pallor mask. The others staggered over to him and kneeled beside him while Almont quickly began his healing prayer.  Even though they were exposed, there was no time to waste.  In their condition even a pack of goblins could probably end all their lives.

 

As Almont completed the ritual, a light washed over them like a thin layer of viscous liquid.  It was first cold, then warm as the healing energy rushed through their bodies.  External wounds healed over, and just as importantly their minds recovered from the traumatic blast.  When it was done none of them were completely back to normal, but the immediate danger had passed.

 

Kent looked up, the color back in his face.  “Remind me not to try to talk to the undead again.”