Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
"No!" Pol screamed, bringing her sword down in a deadly arc.
This alerted her quarry, and the potentially-deadly strike resulted in little more than a superficial flesh wound as the creature twisted around to face its assailants.
Roman swore under his breath as events continued to spiral out of control. Given the creature’s preternatural speed and agility, their strategy of flanking the beast and killing it quickly was now completely in the wind. Backed into a corner, the beast was fortified and lashing out viciously. Roman’s wild swing drove it sidelong into Elster’s reach just as the dwarf rounded the corner. The priest’s glancing blow only served to push it back into a coiled defensive stance.
As Bria moved up, swapping her crossbow for her staff, Lorelei’s Frost Ray managed to thread through the wild scrum and strike the beast. As it recoiled from the icy sting, Pol moved to the forefront. Failing to anticipate the speed of the creature, the fighter suddenly found herself on the receiving end of two barbed tentacle strikes. The first pierced the fine links of her mailed forearm and the second shredded the clasp of her cloak, taking metal links and flesh along with it. Her peers gasped collectively as the mighty warrior fell to her knees.
Channeling her pain into rage, Pol stabbed forward, catching the displacer beast in its taut, muscular shoulder. The creature spat out a savage snarl in response and slunk back, looking for another opportunity to lash out. Both Elster and Roman delivered what they thought were well-placed follow up swings, but both came up short. Bria’s next attack also looked to be perfectly gauged, but she was stunned when her battlestaff missed by a mile.
Thinking that an indirect route might be wiser, Lorelei began the process of conjuring up a creature to fight at her behest. Intrigued by the tasty-looking morsel offering itself up, the displacer beast lashed out at Elster. The dwarf took a vicious slash to the right shoulder and back, but managed to bat away the second tentacle.
As Roman healed the now worse-for-wear Pol, Elster surprised himself when a blow intended to fend off his attacker actually struck the displacer beast in the snout. Bria cursed audibly as she telegraphed another attack. Lorelei watched helplessly as her temporary familiar flailed uselessly at their quarry and the beast skillfully avoided being blinded by her "Flare" spell.
Temporarily fortified, Pol grasped her two-handed sword like a spear and launched herself at the creature. Just before colliding with her opponent, she caught a lightning-quick tentacle strike to the neck and head, stunning her. Her strike still landed true, and she managed to pin the beast to the floor. Elster piled on, bringing his hammer down on the monster’s iron-coiled haunch over and over. Roman, seeing Pol fall unconscious, launched himself at the displacer beast and delivered the killing blow to the creature’s skull. It howled and spasmed into a violent series of death throes.
The fracas finally over, Bria tried to drag Pol free of the mayhem but slipped in a pool of blood underfoot and went down. After wiping the gore from their respective weapons, Roman and Elster rushed over to aid Bria in her efforts to revive Pol. Eventually the warrior came to and sat up. Without saying a word, she got to her feet, swayed in place, pushed away several offers to help and then staggered over to where Rincewind was felled. Lorelei was already there and immediately their worst fears were confirmed.
"Poor bastard," Roman lamented. "He didn’t even know what hit him."
"At least it was quick," the sorceress added.
Pol breathed a wavering sigh, wiped blood from her eye and began to weep. The sight was so incongruous, it took her peers by surprise.
"It’s my fault," she managed to say, her voice leaden with emotion. “I couldn’t get to him in time.”
Roman shook her out of her reverie.
"No, don’t think that for a second! We had no idea that it was going to be so fast and agile!"
Sniffing back her tears, Pol bent down and gently picked up the fallen wizard. She turned towards Elster, who was observing the scene in respectful silence.
"Your people owe us," the amazon said to him
Elster nodded solemnly and soon his cheeks were stained with tears as well.
"Aye, Milady. The weight of your sacrifice isn’t lost on us and our people will forever be in your debt.”
Pol suddenly towered over the diminutive cleric, striking such an imposing presence that the dwarf shifted back a step.
"Then it’s settled," she said in reply. "You’ll bring him back."
The fighter marched out of the room on pillar-esque legs, leaving her fellow heroes standing around in stunned silence. After exchanging quizzical looks, they all began to chase after her.
"Pol, where are you going?" Roman yelled, wincing as his voice reverberated down the stone passageway. He couldn’t decide if he was more fearful now of goblin patrols or his friend’s response.
"We’re taking him to the Soul Forge," Pol intoned, her stride back to the smithy inexorable.
Upon arrival, the warrior kicked the door open and then delicately laid Rincewind’s body on a table by the bellows. Elster marched over and grabbed her by the arm as the others crowded in.
"It’s not that simple, Pol. The Forge's power is exclusively the domain of Parn Golddelve, under the direction of Moradin himself. Others have tried to use it and...well..."
"Well, what?" Roman demanded.
Elster shuffled nervously in place before responding.
"A few years ago, one of nobles from the Undercity was killed in a freak mine accident not far from here. His aides had heard tales of the Soul Forge and demanded that the priest presiding over Kiras Toth in Parn’s absence use the device to bring him back. Things...didn’t go according to plan."
"What do you mean?" Pol demanded. "Did it or did it not bring him back to life?"
"Oh, it did," Elster replied, looking ill-at-ease. "But sometimes they don’t come back quite...right."
The dwarf’s words hung like a bat in the air, ready to take wing amidst the stony silence.
"Lets put it to a vote," Pol said. "If the majority of us say that it’s the right thing to do, then we’ll do it."
Pol’s hand shot up at once, followed quickly by Bria’s. Lorelei’s vote to act followed not longer after and Roman’s tentative hand make it nearly unanimous.
"Do it," Roman told Elster in a tone that didn’t invite debate.
The dwarven priest heaved a world-weary sigh.
"Let the record show that this is against my better judgment. I need you to leave me alone with him. Go back to Ulfgar’s quarters and recover what you can while I make the preparations."
Roman pondered this for a moment and decided not to press his luck. He herded everyone out of the smithy, but this time Pol didn’t let herself by moved.
"I’m staying here," she said emphatically.
"Look, if we run into anything nasty, we’re going to need our best fighter with us," Roman insisted.
Pol managed to tear her gaze away from Elster’s puttering. Instantly, her expression softened and Roman reciprocated with a smile.
"Do you trust him?" the fighter asked as they left the room to join the others. "If no-one’s there to keep an eye on him, he can just say it didn’t work and that’ll be the end of it."
"Let’s face it, even if we were all staring right over his shoulder, none of us would have a clue what he was up to," Roman replied.
Taking stock of the crestfallen looks on his friend’s faces, the cleric tried to boost their spirits on the trek back to Ulfgar’s quarters.
"Do you think it’s going to work?" Bria asked plaintively.
"Honestly, I have no idea,” Roman confessed. "The dwarves aren’t exactly renowned for their healing arts. But we’ve all seen some pretty bizarre stuff down here, so I guess anything is possible."
Aware of the constant threat of enemy reinforcements, the group did a hasty pass on the sergeant’s quarters. Even though the displacer beast prevented the invaders from sacking the room, its struggles to escape created a spectacular mess. From the chaos, the group managed to salvage Ulfgar’s masterwork warhammer, a striking-looking greatsword, a silver necklace, a potion of some sort and a painting depicting a grand battle between dwarves and goblins.
When the Fellowship returned to the Soul Forge, Elster quickly hustled everyone through the smithy and back into the corridor leading to the Forgemaster’s quarters. His shushed everyone as a flurry of questions started to fly.
"Be silent!" he implored, pushing everyone out of the room.
He shut the door behind them and then led them down the hall.
"So?" Pol demanded, no longer able to contain herself. "What happened?"
"Yeah!" Bria chimed in, getting in Elster’s path. "Is Rincewind alright?"
"Yes, yes!" the dwarf replied, sounding testy. "We just need to let him rest right now."
As the sound of jubilation filled the tight quarters, Elster winced, dropping his arms to his sides in resignation. He promptly maneuvered around Brea and entered the next room, his compatriots trailing after him.
Once inside, the Fellowship saw that Ulfgar and his ally had not been idle. The group's unexpected return distracted the sergeant from his finishing touches, and everyone crowded around to admire his handiwork. Giran was now securely trussed up in a cot and ready for transport.
Ulfgar was also delighted to have his items returned to him. He went on to explain that the warhammer was a gift from the forgemaster, and getting it back seemed to fortify him considerably. At the sight of the still-intact painting, his eyes lit up, and he proudly told everyone within ear-shot that he painted it himself. But, just as quickly, the sergeant’s mood turned somber when he noticed Rincewind’s absence. He then listened in rapt silence as the group recounted their fight with the displacer beast.
"You’ve saved us all," Ulfgar declared. "If Giran could speak, he’d offer heartfelt thanks as well as a great reward. I don’t believe I speak out of turn when I offer these tokens of appreciation to you."
After presenting the greatsword, the silver necklace and the unidentified potion to his human allies, Ulfgar invited the Fellowship to help themselves to the contents of the vault.
"We appreciate the gesture," Roman replied. "But you’ll need that gold to rebuild. Keep it."
"Wait...whut?" Bria blurted, sounding desperate.
"Besides," Roman emphatically stated, pausing momentarily to fire a stern look over his shoulder at the thief, "we’re going to have to travel lightly and we can’t be laden down with a bunch of heavy chests."
"Well, I insist on this, at the very least," Ulfgar interjected. "When everything is back to normal, I’ll personally delivery a masterwork weapon to each of you, crafted straight from the Soul Forge. As adventurers, the value of such things will easily eclipse any trinket and bauble that you’ll find lying around here."
"Pffft, doubtful," Bria mumbled, crossing her arms and drifting away. She continued to mutter this diatribe under her breath until Lorelei poked her in the ribs with an elbow.
"Well, we should get going," Roman said, sounding unconvinced by his own words.
"No, my friends," Ulfgar insisted. "The hour is very late and you’re exhausted. Get some well-earned sleep."
"But what if reinforcements show up?" Lorelei asked.
"We’ll just have to chance it," Elster spoke up. "Besides, we can’t move Rincewind yet. I’ll go back out to the Soul Forge and stay with him to make sure everything is okay."
With that, the members of the Fellowship settled down into a restless night of elusive sleep. Bria dreamt of a shower of gold coins, none of which she could catch or pick up. Roman had a nightmare about surviving the trip home, only to be cast out of the church by Moira for being absent for so long. Lorelei tossed and turned, imagining a walk through a beautiful wooden glade ending in horror as she fell into a pit and the earthen walls closed in on her. Pol had a dream about Rincewind coming back...but then suddenly turning on her and strangling her.
Solstice 27'th, Moonday
That morning, Pol excitedly woke up her allies and soon they were all crowding the entrance to the Soul Forge. Roman knocked on the door and a sleepy Elster opened it, blearily rubbing his eyes.
"Are you ready to go?" the priest of Pelor asked.
"As ready as we can be, I suppose."
"How’s Rincewind?" Pol quizzed.
"See for yourself," Elster replied, gesturing for his friends to enter.
Once inside, they saw that the “WIZZARD” was sitting hunched over a cluttered workbench, curiously examining the entire contents of his back pack and spell pouches which he’d poured out onto the table. Still clad in the torn and blood-stained remnants of his robes, he seemed nonplussed by his near-nudity. Despite his threadbare state, everyone was surprised to see that the exposed skin underneath was perfectly healed.
As the group approached, Rincewind suddenly looked up in surprise, grabbed a tiny steel bar from his tinder kit and brandished it as if trying to defend himself.
"Hey, buddy" Roman ventured, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. "How are you feeling?"
"Yes," Lorelei echoed. "Are you okay?"
The magic user blinked violently, spinning his head around as if surrounded by phantoms.
"Who...?" he began.
"Yes?" Roman said, leaning closer to hear.
"Who...?" Rincewind repeated.
"Yes?" Lorelei replied, silently imploring more words out of him.
"Who are all you weirdos?"
With that, the heroes turned and exchanged glances with each other, suspecting that their flight back to Castebridge might be the least of their immediate challenges.
Next up: In a desperate, time-sensitive bid to save Giran's life, the group tries to run a deadly gauntlet from Kiras Toth to Castebridge...now with a loopy wizzard in tow!
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