The Companions of Tartiël (20 page)

Leaning forward in my seat, I demanded, “
Why did you try to kill Lady Astra?
”

“Quite the face and question to wake up to,” Matt commented; I’m not sure whether the comment was in-game or out-of-game. It could have been either.

Dingo spoke in a semi-falsetto, really just speaking in a weak voice. “
I-I can’t help it, Kaiyr
, she cries.
It’s just s-something I have to do. Please! I don’t want to. Help me stop!
”

I narrowed my eyes. “I… roll another Sense Motive check. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, you’re dead, after all.” I rolled and got a twenty. Dingo rolled as well; whether or not she was Bluffing, it was his job as a DM to not let us know that.

“You’re… pretty inconclusive,” he said, shaking his head. “She seems to be telling the truth, for the most part, but something tells you that either she really is compelled to do this, or she’s not quite telling you everything. She looks at you with big, helpless eyes.
Just keep her away from me. That’s all I ask.
”

“
Don’t worry
,” Xavier replied for Caineye, “
We’ll take care of you. She won’t get to you while we’re around.
”

“She nods, then keeps looking at you as her cheeks flush red.”

I stayed silent, trying to give Xavier some stage time. “
Is something the matter?
”

“She nods again and says,
I have to pee.
”

I tossed my d20 across the table, sensing foul play. “Sense Motive… with no luck. Nine.” Hunkering down in my seat and leaning forward, I once more became Kaiyr. “
You realize, Lady Luna, that honoring such a request is difficult. Right now, you must earn back our trust for having run off last time and attacking us just now.
”

“I’m not going to say anything, but I’ll look at Kaiyr pointedly and make a Bluff check to get a silent message across as I leave the room,” Matt said. He dropped his d20 onto his
Complete Adventurer
and nodded. “That’s a success. Kaiyr, you figure that I’m going to your room to make sure that she doesn’t slip out the other side of the bathroom, since our rooms are connected.”

I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “Good thinking. All right, I’ll let her go to the bathroom.”

Dingo shrugged. “Okay, she enters, and you don’t hear her leaving. But then, a minute goes by, and you hear nothing.”

“We’re patient. We can wait.”

“Five minutes pass.”

“
Luna
,” Xavier said, “
Is everything all right in there?
”

Grinning, our DM replied, “You hear nothing at all from inside.”

I slapped my palm to my face. “Aw, crap. I forgot nymphs have
dimension door
once a day. Not that Kaiyr would have known.” Looking at the others, I shook my head. “She’s gone, but considering the state she’s in, she’s not going to be back until she gets some healing.” The other players sighed but said nothing, so I went on, “I’ll open the door.”

“Nothing’s there.”

“Thought so. Well, I’m going to tell Wild that she’s gone, and I’ll go find Astra and tell her what happened.” I sat back in my chair, defeated. “Kaiyr’s going to be pretty miffed at this, so after I tell her, I’m going to go sit at the prow of the ship for a while, meditating. And lowering my blood pressure.” We all chuckled.

“All right,” Dingo replied. “You find Astra and tell her. She pretty much just laughs at you and is like,
I told you so.
Luckily for you, Luna doesn’t reappear anytime soon, and the rest of the trip goes without further incident. Um, Kaiyr, you finish your robes. Wild, you get to keep those rings you stole, as well as an additional… oh, hundred and fifty gold worth of small gems. Just mark it down as currency.”

“I’m going to shell out five or ten gold to any wizard or sorcerer on the ship willing to cast
prestidigitation
for me,” I said.

“What for?”

“To clean my old robes. They’ll still come in handy as a spare set of clothes.”

“Fair enough. You find a wizard who’ll do it for five gold. Anything else?” We all shook our heads, so he finished up for the night. “Well, then. All of you get to Andorra in one piece. Astra leaves you there, saying she has a few things to tend to, but that she’ll meet up with you later, in town, and not to worry about her being able to find you.”

“Figures she’d run off again,” Matt grumbled, but Dingo ignored him.

“And I want all of you to level up. That was some pretty intense roleplay and after our past two sessions, it’s time,” the DM said. We rolled our dice with him there, because he wanted to be present for hit-point rolls.
^[30]
I recall rolling a low number and rerolling (due to the house rule Dingo had adopted from me). Is it sad that I still remember that I ended up with 28 hit points at level 3? It probably is.

After rolling hit points (Xavier, to his bad luck, ended up with a bad roll and opted to take half the maximum value of his d8 Hit Die, rounded up, for five hit points plus his Constitution modifier—a total of seven more hit points), we called it a night and packed everything in before heading to bed.

XIV.

Xavier and I were sitting in our little dorm room, me facing my computer, him with his
Player’s Handbook
,
Spell Compendium
, and
Complete Adventurer
open before him on his desk. Our desks being against opposite walls, our backs were to each other. I was using my Wacom tablet to draw a picture of Kaiyr on my computer, sketching a wireframe on one layer in red, then filling in details later before starting on the skin, hair, and clothing layers, among others. I had already leveled up my character and was ready to play.

Third level is an important level for D&D characters. It represents a large jump, especially for characters whose main focus is casting spells. Level three grants those characters access to level-two spells, which are much more potent than mere level-one spells. Further, every character gets a new feat at third level (and every other level divisible by three), representing an increase in ability. For my feat, I chose “Weapon Focus (soulblade),” which gave me a +1 bonus to all attack rolls with Kaiyr’s soulblade. Xavier had more to do but also reaped more benefits from it, since he received a feat and two level-two spells (one for being a level-three druid and one for having an exceptional Wisdom score—druids rely on their Wisdom to power their spells), both of which he would usually tend to reserve for
splinterbolt
, a rather potent level-two offensive druid spell from the
Spell Compendium
.

“Did I ever tell you where I got the name ‘Kaiyr’ from?” I asked.

Xavier looked up from his druid business and ran a hand through his very long hair. “No, where’d it come from?”

I chuckled. “It was funny. I didn’t realize it at first, but I thought his name sounded familiar. I checked, and in a story I’m writing, I’ve got a bit character named ‘Daioskaiyr,’ but he goes by ‘Kaiyr.’”

“Ah, cool,” Xavier said, genuinely interested. It’s hard to be friends for a decade and not have an interest in each other’s creative abilities. I, for one, would like to see him write a novel, because despite his protests to the opposite, I know he is at least as creative as I am.

“And Kaiyr’s last name, Stellarovim, comes from another story that’s been bouncing around in my head.” I gestured toward his books. “Have you settled on a feat for Caineye yet?”

“Well, I’d like to take Natural Spell, but I don’t qualify for it yet. I can’t
wild shape
^[31]
yet, but if I cast
aspect of the wolf
^[32]
, I can’t cast spells unless I have the feat. I’ve got my spells done, too, but I still need to level up Vinto,” he said as he picked up his character sheet and looked at it.

I slapped my knee. “Right! And since he’s got two Hit Dice and he’s gaining two more, he’ll gain a feat, too!”

He grinned but rolled his eyes. “Great. More things for me to decide on.”

XV.

Wild woke up the morning after the party had arrived in Andorra. After arriving late yesterday afternoon and booking a room at this cozy, little inn, the three of them and Vinto had desired nothing but a good meal and a decent night’s rest, especially after the taxing events that had occurred during the trip here.

Yawning and stretching, he wiggled his little toes and threw his legs over the side of his bed. As usual, Kaiyr and Caineye were already up; over dinner, they had agreed to spend today seeking knowledge or rumors of the shadowy, wingless dragon the companions had seen in the forest to the south and which had reportedly been seen near Andorra.

Hopping to his feet, Wild pulled on his pants, shrugged into a shirt, and then wriggled his way into his mithril chain shirt. As he buckled on his dastana, he slipped his feet into a pair of shoes, and, after tying them, he skipped downstairs for a spot of breakfast.

When that was done, having found neither hide nor hair of the blademaster or the druid, he took to the streets, exploring the town. It was typical as far as northern elven settlements went; the buildings were hidden amongst the trees, with streets naturally forming between the wide trunks. The sun filtered through the leaves, a vibrant green luminance coating everything in a lively glow. A few of the buildings were not so well-hidden or graceful, but it was likely the result of integration with other races and cultures.

The people here, mostly elves, moved with purpose, always busy. Wild stopped one elven man chopping firewood; the elf was in the middle of wiping sweat from his brow. “Hullo, good sir,” the halfling said in Elven.

Looking up from his work, the elf brushed his fiery mane out of his face. “Why, greetings, small one,” he replied, using the Elven word for “halfling.” “How can I be of service?”

Wild smiled and clasped his hands behind his back, rocking from heel to toe and back again. “Oh, perhaps you’d just be inclined to trade a few words; I’ve no desire to interrupt your work.”

The elf put down his hatchet and returned the halfling’s expression. “Why, it is certainly a pleasure to meet a polite outsider; you know our ways well. Come, let us converse at length. You must have arrived recently; I’ve heard of no small folk visiting our fair forest lately.”

With a nod, Wild moved off the road and opposite the elf’s chopping block and growing pile of wood. “Indeed I have. And, since I’m something of a tourist, I thought I’d ask a local about this fair town—what is it called, Andorra?” The elf nodded his accord, and Wild went on, “What kinds of services might a local find that would be more difficult for a traveler? And—where do I go to get some of that famous elven wine?”

The elf laughed, his voice like a string of bells chiming in a light breeze. “Very well, small one. Andorra is but a small trading town on the way to everywhere. We keep a large port because many airships pass over these woods. It makes for an excellent junction and stopover. I’m afraid we have little to offer but rooms and meals—and wine. You should find the most exquisite of these last at the Unicorn.”

Wild frowned; that was where he and the others were staying. “Well, I’ll be. And to think I was sleeping right above such a fine stash all night. Regardless, I shall make amends this eve. Thank you, sir, for your insight and your company.”

“Nay, thank you for yours,” the elf replied with a shake of his head.

The halfling pursed his lips; now was his chance to bring up a potentially touchier subject. “Listen,” he said, edging closer and speaking in a lower voice. Interested, the elf also leaned in to hear. “I’m also here following a certain rumor I heard during my travels. A fellow tourist mentioned that he caught sight of a shadowy dragon terrorizing the woods in and around Andorra. Surely you’ve heard of it. Is its presence anything to worry about?”

It happened suddenly and faded just as quickly, but Wild caught it: a faraway expression in the elf’s eyes. Then, looking down at Wild, the elf frowned. “Why, no,” he said, almost dreamily. “I’ve not heard of such a thing. We’ve not spotted a dragon in these parts in over three hundred years.”

Not giving away the fact that he’d just witnessed something strange, Wild straightened and patted his belly, laughing. “Well, I suppose I can just chalk it up to rumor, or perhaps false tourist advertising. In any case, let me thank you for your verbal generosity and be on my way.”

The elf smiled wanly. “Of course.”

Wild trundled off, but when he looked back, the elf had already stood and left his firewood as though having forgotten it; he strode down the street at the same purposeful pace as everyone else. “Strange fellow,” he muttered. Then something else struck him. “Even stranger. Where in the Nine Hells are these people’s children?” Looking around—and he could see far down many of the streets—he spotted no children playing or laughing, nor being carried by their mothers. The moment was not yet finished showing him odd things, and he stopped upon sighting a holy symbol rising high into the air beneath the forest canopy. “A temple of Alduros Hol? In an elven town?” he asked nobody, incredulous. Then his eyebrows wriggled alternately up and down in thought. “A temple of Alduros Hol, huh?” he asked, this time slyly.

Overcome with curiosity and heedless of the potential for danger, Billcock Wild scampered toward the temple.

The door creaked open at his touch, and the halfling slipped inside the small hall. It was not a foreboding place, being lit partly with natural light and with torches mounted in sconces.

A figure in gray-brown robes knelt before a simple, wooden altar adorned with a few rudimentary holy symbols common to the religion of the god of nature. Upon hearing the door open, the figure rose and turned to face the newcomer; it was a human man with a slightly graying, neatly trimmed beard and similarly well-kept hair.

One hand in a pocket, Wild deftly slipped off the constable of Viel’s ring, leaving the one he had taken from Cobain’s body. “Hullo, Father,” the halfling greeted the man cheerfully. He paused, trying to remember the words from a priest of Alduros Hol he had once met. “Uh, may the forces of nature be gentle unto you.”