Agenar’s journal, page 233

As the sun rose I stretched for a moment, shaking leaves from my blanket, then retreated behind a tree to prepare for the day. Our trek to Selu’tar passed unnoticed as I considered what I had seen behind closed eyes: a rainbow, ending in a pot of molten silver around which danced an invisible voice. This image had started me awake before third watch began, and despite the comforting glow of Dagon’s Reach, slumber did not return.

And lo! we came out of the woods onto an ancient battlefield. Our historians know not what occurred to the high elves here, but pilgrims frequent this holy ground during more hospitable seasons. Now, though, it is covered by a viscous silver liquid, which somehow also clings to the foliage. Travis, spotting a mausoleum, muttered something about home.

We followed him inside, and found ourselves drawn downward. The building was only an entrance to a great cave – though a cave nearly as bright as the sun left outside, with light emanating both from veins of rock lacing the walls and from large mushrooms that, I thought, seemed to move from place to place.

I did not sample these mushrooms.

At the center of the space was a statue labeled ‘Thalnoth: He Did Amazing Deeds,’ surrounded by a shallow pool. At sight of it, Travis shuddered. But he climbed into the water as our party scattered, then called me to join him in pushing on the pedestal. It moved, revealing a stair spiraling deeper.

The minutes of descent felt like hours, until it emptied into a garishly multi-hued chamber dominated by an alter, inscribed with runes none of us could decipher, glowing in five segments of solid color, each connected to a similar path leading down hallways of indeterminable length. Travis immediately turned back, and Val followed. I turned down the green path.

This continued through a set of double doors and led past other, closed doors before terminating in a small room at a basin of green glowing liquid. As I approached, six skeletons stepped away from the walls. The nearest of these spoke. Bob, as he called himself, had many questions – when he was enchanted, there were only seven hells, and he did not have many visitors. Nonetheless, when I filled a vial with the mysterious green glow, he and his crew attacked. I must have screamed with pain, for I was dead and warm in Tymora’s embrace until starting awake to find Tillia’s green face hovering above mine. Pantaghion was busy scattering bones while Bob’s skull whined from the floor, and Wynlynn slipped past to retrieve her own bottle of green. As she corked the vial, bones began reassembling into skeletons, and we began to run.

Wynlynn’s elfin strides raced ahead, so she was already down the yellow corridor when Tilia closed the double doors to green against Bob. Still wobbly from my experience with the skeleton, I struggled to follow Teal and Pantaghion – arriving only in time to see an unconscious Wynlynn washed past six fanged monsters with great snaking tongues and hands like hayforks. The paladin hoisted elf over one shoulder, tugged the concentrating druid behind, and raced back past me to the alter. I had barely followed when Tiulia slammed doors against the impact of a monster, and found myself stumbling into Val. “Lucky you got out”, Travis said with as much excitement as a block of wood. “Those looked like ghasts. Nasty things.”

Tilia grunted for him to help hold the door. A moment later, a comforting silver glow shone under it, and then we heard a howl from the ghasts. “Hurry,” Teal urged, “I can’t hold them with moonbeams for long.” Pantaghion wedged his shovel under the door, then again lifted Wynlynn and started up the stairs.

Val guided me to the surface. After a few moments to catch our breath, Tilia identified a pilgrim’s campsite and we settled down, still within site of the fountain, to try sleeping in the cavern’s strange light.

Tilia’s Field Notes: Pantaghion

Of all our enigmatic comrades, Pantaghion the paladin may actually be the most mysterious. If we are to believe what he’s told us in bits and pieces over the last year or so, he’s the product of an illicit relationship between elven royalty and a human father. And everything about him matches the story, down to his constant search for a father he’s never met.

Pencil drawing of a handsome paladin.

Pantaghion is a handsome man, with long brown hair, dark eyes, and the peaked ears typical of the elven-bred. He wears the symbol of Mellora with the genuine devotion that fuels divine magic. On the rare occasion that he’s not looking pensive and his well-cut features are lit with a half-smile, he’s beyond dashing.

He’s both refined and just rugged enough around the edges to turn a lot of eyes; I’ve seen Teal steal a very subtle look or two, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Teal has seen me do the same. Apparently Pantaghion was “known to” the succubus in her prior incarnation as Hot Legs Jen (whom one couldn’t even call a courtesan, but they share the same line of work.) So as far as anyone knows, he enjoys female companionship, but I’ve never seen him directly express any preferences along those lines – a rather discreet man when it comes to such affairs.

Pantaghion also appears to have the means and wealthy tastes that make it easier to maintain such discretion, at least most of the time. Traveling with our crew clearly doesn’t meet his lifestyle criteria in terms of creature comforts, and it doesn’t keep anyone’s purse full, but he never complains about any of these inconveniences. Not even the foolhardy shenanigans of our team seem to phase him for even a moment. I almost envy his seeming cool detachment.

The only time that Pantaghion hasn’t generally been a steadfast protector to our wayward company was the mushroom incident, which is quite forgivable on the whole. He recently rushed to Wynlynn’s rescue despite the clear and present danger – the kind of generous effort he’s continually contributing without a word. He doesn’t go rushing foolishly into danger and is always at hand to help save those who do. And all with a quiet air of mystery.

Tilia’s Field Notes: Minding the Mavericks

Why can’t my comrades understand that they put the entire group in danger when they act on their own self-centered whimsies? Haven’t they noticed that it takes most of us to rescue any one wayward adventurer who tumbles into trouble after cavorting about on their own? Or do they simply not care?

It’s hard to trust anyone who indulges in such impulsive and irresponsible actions. So far, only Teal has proven entirely trustworthy, and the quiet paladin Pantaghion has been fairly reliable. Although eating psychoactive mushrooms on a lark certainly counts as making oneself a liability…

This behavior deeply troubles me. The group’s safety is more important than any individual’s caprice; failure to even communicate intentions is quite reckless. Keeping company with such mavericks puts the sensible few among us in a difficult spot. Babysitting thrill-seekers is helping me develop certain skills, but offers little other fulfillment and causes so much unease. Since we last left The Glade, every time one of them starts wandering off, my stomach gets queasy.

I can’t help but think that if I broke off to travel solo, I could pass these dangers unnoticed and unharmed. But I’d also be alone with the gnawing emptiness that has plagued me of late, and that’s far worse than the sick feeling when Val impetuously plunges into yet another fray or the constant worry when Agenar wanders off. I know they’re not really my responsibility, but I couldn’t bring myself to abandon my adopted tribe. Nor can I leave poor Teal to mind the lot of them all by himself!

These fickle fools are going to get us all killed.

Tilia’s Field Notes: Beneath the Elven Ruins

Nearly immediately, without consulting anyone, and before we could discuss a strategy for exploring the space, Travis abruptly announced that he’d decided to retrieve some of the silvery liquid from the surface to pour into the mechanism. Val chased after him and I was grateful that Val took a turn accompanying him, for his safety as much as to prevent her from charging mindlessly into some new danger. But they would be gone awhile, leaving a much smaller group behind to explore and face whatever lay ahead. Because of course, in that time, nothing problematic could occur, right?

A hundred feet or so beneath the mysterious cave, we entered a room with an odd mechanical forge-like structure with five rainbow-hued sections, each with a symbol etched into its surface. None among us could read the symbols; they looked like some ancient precursor to elven script. Each section of the strange structure contained a bit of clear liquid and a bowl in the center had some pipes leading away from it. But we didn’t get enough opportunity to examine the structure to understand what it might do before the others began wandering off.

Almost predictably, both Agenar and Wynlynn split off down separate corridors without sharing their intentions or consulting anyone else. I’ve come to expect this from the handsome but feckless cleric, but was surprised that Wynlynn made such an ill-considered move. She has generally seemed so reasonable to date.

Let me pause to say that this behavior is baffling to me. Nearly every time someone wanders off, they end up embattled, and it takes 5 or 6 others to save them from their ineptitude. In the process, someone else is all always injured, someone usually ends up near death, and yet they all seem to overlook the fact that we’re very lucky to be surviving these harebrained escapades. How is it that no one else has observed this trend? It’s rather distressing.

But I digress. While Wynlynn went down an orange-lit tunnel and Agenar strolled away down a green passageway, I stayed put. It seemed the best option for staying ready to aid them, which would inevitably be necessary. So I waited for someone to call out for help, though with growing irritation.

A few minutes later, Wynlynn returned with an odd expression on her face, avoiding eye contact with any of us. Before we could say a thing, commotion arose from the green tunnel. The others started off down the tunnel and soon there was a clash with several skeletons. One of them – Bob – was quite polite and apologetic about dutifully guarding something in the room, which of course, Agenar had tried to obtain for no apparent reason. I tried to assist by casting a bonfire beneath Bob, more than once, but he kept dodging the flames. Agenar was mortally wounded — again — but I cast a spell to revive him with the last bit of spellcasting effort I could muster.

After some effort, we disassembled the skeletons, and then Wynlynn advanced further into the green chamber. I couldn’t see what was happening within, but in a few moments, the skeletons suddenly started to reassemble. Wynlynn darted out of the room, dragging the weakened Agenar with her, and we slammed the door to the passageway shut to keep the skeletons contained.

Then, again without warning, Wynlynn scurried into another room, this one glowing yellow. Weird and suspicious behavior for her, so I attempted to stop her with an entanglement spell, but she shimmied out of the way and kept going, reaching a pool of yellow liquid and collecting some in a vial.

As soon as Wynlynn touched the surface of the yellow liquid, a half dozen undead monsters with long tongues emerged from around the room. They surrounded her in seconds, using their clawed hands to pierce her armor, and soon she was lying unconscious on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Pantaghion cast a healing spell and her eyelids fluttered open. He’d valiantly engaged the monsters that he didn’t provoke, but there were too many of them to make it possible for him to retrieve Wynlynn, and it looked like the nasty long-tongued things were about to rend her into shreds.

A woman lies on the ground while monsters threaten and a slim man in the foreground conjures waves.

Then Teal stepped up and conjured a spectacular tidal wave. With impressive precision, the waves washed Wynlynn to Pantaghion’s feet, while knocking over some of the monsters and slowing the others. Pantaghion picked Wynlynn up and turned to run, but couldn’t move fast enough to escape. So I picked them both up and pulled them out of the room as the undead abominations closed in, slamming the door behind them and bracing myself against the walls to hold it shut. For once, being oversized came in handy! And for a moment, I didn’t feel like a clumsy oaf, but a strong guardian of my adopted tribe.

Teal cast another spell that briefly stopped the monsters from beating against the door, so just as Val and Travis returned from their seemingly pointless jaunt, we fled the room and climbed the staircase back to the peaceful luminescent cavern above. Of the handful who had stayed in the depths, I alone had managed to remain completely unharmed, but only because I stayed back from the fray and cast ranged spells until my abilities were depleted.

We can only hope that the undead creatures won’t give chase, as the winding staircase below the fountain remains open.

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