As recounted by Atalaya
July 23, 2021
2nd Day of Kythorn, 1491
Shaking off her trance state in the small room at the Green Goblin, Atalaya Loravaris stretched and slowly allowed her awareness to take in the sounds and odors of the space she was in. She was aware of the smells of the different foods served by Aristotle that seemed to permeate the very walls of the room.
She felt the comforting warmth of Vaz lying next to her, his breath lightly brushing across her cheek. A soft, reddish glow lit the far corner of the room as the last embers in the fireplace pulsed slowly. Atalaya stretched again and removed Vaz’s hand from around her waist, trying to ease herself from the bed. Vaz blocked her way, lying between her and the edge of the bed. With a sigh, she flipped around and crawled off the foot of the bed. After making use of the chamber pot, she searched through her pack for some clean clothing. A quick rinsing using the water from the ewer and basin in the room, and she was dressed and moving silently out of the room.
Peeking into the end room, she saw that Ivar was also awake, sitting up in his bed near the door, slowly and carefully sharpening the blade of his shortsword. The sound of the blade being pulled along the stone was raspy, but he worked slowly and the sounds were not bothering any of the others sleeping in the room. Searching for Cirilli, Atalaya saw her curled up on her side in the bed in the farthest corner of the room. In sleep, she looked younger and so very innocent. Her heart hurt for the child who had been forced to grow up far too quickly. Atalaya breathed a soft prayer for her, and nodding to Ivar, moved towards the room Macterah, Grinda and Myricia rested in. Hearing nothing but the sounds of slumber, Atalaya returned to her room, grabbed her fletching kit from her pack and headed to the bench that was positioned at the head of stairs.
Gathering her tools, she pulled out each of her recently-used arrows, searching for any signs of wear and replacing fletching as needed to be sure that each and everyone of them would fly true when she shot it. She was so accustomed to this work, that while she was thorough, she was still able to maintain a watch over her friends and to worry about the strange behavior that Sorrow continued to exhibit. Sorrow was not himself. He would never have said the things that he had or walked out on his friends, especially not on Joan, if he was in his right mind. But try as she might, she couldn’t decide how to help him, other than to eliminate Natyssa. The more she considered the facts that they had gathered and what she had seen for herself during the abortive dinner with Duke Orsino, she was sure that Natyssa was the key to many of the problems here in Riverport and for Sorrow. As she mused on the facts, the more convinced she became that Natyssa and Hope were one and the same person. And that she was evil and needed to be eliminated. But how to do that, especially without destroying Sorrow in the process, Atalaya had no workable ideas. Frustrated, she reached for another arrow, searching the shaft for any signs of cracks.
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Atalaya heard the sound of the door opening below her and people moving into the kitchen area of the tavern below her. Aristotle's low voice could be heard mumbling, or maybe singing, to himself as he stoked the kitchen fires and then the sounds of breakfast preparations. As soon as Atalaya detected the smell of coffee, she collected her arrows and returned them to her quiver. Gathering her kit, she returned them to her room. Softly calling Vaz’s name, she leaned in and gave him a soft quick kiss on his cheek as he opened his eyes. “It’s morning sleepyhead. I’m going to get some coffee.”
Vasilya’s hand reached up, and grasping her arm, he pulled Atalaya back down to him bringing her mouth into reach. He kissed her deeply and then released her. Looking around he noticed just the beginnings of a lightening to the night sky coming from the window. “It’s too early, come back to bed,” he pleaded. He sighed in defeat as Atalaya just chuckled softly and kissed him again, this time on his forehead.
“No, we have to get an early start of the day. We’ve plans to make and some shopping that needs to be done before we head out again. Join me downstairs when you are ready for the day.” Caressing his face, she pulled back and headed for the kitchen and the mug of coffee that was calling her name.
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About an hour later, everyone, minus Sorrow, was gathered in the large tavern room around the central table enjoying one of Aristotle’s delicious breakfasts. Coffee filled the mugs up and down the table and both Atalaya and Macterah were enjoying yet another mug of the stuff as they talked about what they needed to do next. Replacing their healing potions was high on Mac’s list of what needed to be done. She was slightly appalled at the number of potions that had been used while freeing Darfin’s sister from the influence of the demon Baazka. Searching through her notebook she kept on the group’s finances, Mac stated that there was plenty of money to replace the used potions and that she really wanted to get that done first thing. Of course, a trip to the bank would be needed first to gather the needed coins for that.
Tifinin, looking sadly at the now empty platter of bacon, chimed up saying that he wanted to get more of the enhanced crossbow bolts. Talking that over, they decided that both Cirilli and Grinda also were ready to have a few of the magically enhanced arrows. As these were items to benefit the group, they would also be paid for from the group funds. Cirilli and Grinda both beamed with pride as they realized that they were going to be trusted with the expensive arrows.
Finishing breakfast, they gathered their packs, paid for their lodging and meals, and left to complete their errands. Atalaya kept a careful eye out for trouble throughout the morning, especially vigilant once they left the bank with the extra coins needed for their purchases. She was very glad that they had the Bags of Holding to lessen the weight of the many coins.
Val’s shop was as interesting as always. Val, known to the residents of Riverport as “Val the Black”, was whispered to be a witch by the populace of Riverport. Atalaya and the rest of the group knew her to be a skilled practitioner of magic, who maintained a shop full of useful items for those wanting a life of adventure. They already relied heavily on her healing potions. Val smiled widely as the group crowded into her small shop. “Let me guess, you are here for more of my healing potions?” At Macterah’s nod, she continued, “So, it’s a good thing that I’ve been busy trying to replace those that you bought the last time you were here. Just what and how many were you looking to buy today?”
Mac and Val discussed potions and prices as the rest of the group wandered around the shop. Cirilli’s eyes took in everything she saw, with longing looks at the items she really had no idea of what they were, but were, nevertheless oh-so-interesting. Vaz, his arm around Atalaya’s waist, waited patiently, knowing that the next stop would be to find a seller for the ammunition they wanted.
The trip through town to get the arrows was completed quickly, Cirilli handled her new arrows with reverence. She carefully placed them into one of the compartments of her quiver and then pulled them back out as she walked. Learning the motion to grab the arrow she wanted each time she reached. Several of the people passing by eyed her warily, but as she never touched the bow slung across her shoulders they would just shrug and walk on by.
As they headed towards the wagons, Tifinin, "Just Tifinin", spoke up. “I want to try dispelling magic on Sorrow before we leave him here. In all the stress of our conversations yesterday, we never actually tried that. I can’t leave him without trying at least once more.”
The others nodded, agreeing with him. As they approached the area in front of the town walls where all the refugees had set up their small camps, Tif and Ivar headed over to Sorrow’s wagon. Myricia flew overhead as they knocked on the door. The rest of the group headed on towards the other two wagons, hoping that with fewer people confronting him, Sorrow would feel less threatened and be willing to talk with Tif. Vaz, Cirilli and Atalaya started securing items in Vaz’s wagon in preparation for their return to Saltmarsh to collect their boat, the Hond Ebrath.
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Suddenly Myricia’s worried voice sounded in Atalaya’s mind. “Trouble. Tif’s in trouble. You need to help him.” Looking at the others, she saw that they heard the same call for help. Grabbing her bow and quiver and tossing them over her shoulder, she quickly belted on her sword and raced with the others back towards Sorrow’s vardo. Tif could be seen, doubled over in laughter. Ivar and Sorrow were confronting each other and the air was heavy with suppressed tension. Atalaya looked back and forth between the two of them and Tif. Tif seemed okay, but unable to stop laughing. She felt as if she could feel the air crackling between Sorrow and Ivar.
Worried that Sorrow was about to do something that they would all regret later Atalaya pulled out her wand of paralysis and shot off a charge directly at Sorrow. His hand froze even as he raised it to do who knew what. He remained in place, as still as a statue and Atalaya could make out Hope hovering to his side in the doorway. It would be a tricky shot, but Atalaya knew that she needed to remove her as a threat to Sorrow and the rest of them. Grabbing her bow and pulling out one of her magicked arrows she shot directly at her, being pretty sure that she hit Hope, even though it was obvious that she hadn’t killed her outright. Steadily she drew more arrows, and aimed for the tiefling trying to hide behind the edge of the doorway. It was difficult to get a shot through but Atalaya kept up her barrage of arrows, being careful to avoid her friends as they pulled Sorrow out of the doorway.
That gave her a slightly better view into the vardo. She was aware of Vaz and Cirilli also shooting their bows. She wasn’t exactly sure where Seraphina and Mac had gotten to, but knew that they would be doing what they could to eliminate the threat that Hope presented to the group. Atalaya heard the sounds of a magic missile going off inside the wagon and knew that Mac had to be nearby.
Suddenly, foul smelling undead creatures appeared. One just outside the vardo near the front wheel and another in the doorway which immediately attacked Vaz. Vaz defeated it easily, lobbing off pieces of its undead flesh and then cutting off its head. The smell of sulfur wafted across the area outside the vardo as it died (again). Atalaya continued to shoot at Hope and the undead creature before her. Suddenly Hope’s form shifted and a demonic looking, vampire-tiefling-like creature replaced Hope and flew off, and disappearing. Changing planes, thought Atalaya. What have we gotten ourselves into here? That’s the second demon we have seen this week. First Baazka and now this thing.
With the departure of Hope, the fight ended and Atalaya raced over to Sorrow. He appeared groggy and moved stiffly as he tried to sit up. “What? What happened? Where am I?” Sorrow’s confusion was easy for Atalaya to read as he struggled to orient himself. Mac stalked up to him as he sat there trying to figure out what had just happened and kicked him. Atalaya looked on with horror as she saw Mac’s foot connect with Sorrow and his hand come up as he reflexively defended himself from Mac’s attack. The hellish flames surround Mac for a moment and she visibly flinched, feeling them attack her body for a moment. Atalaya carefully reached out, turning Sorrow’s head to look at her and demanding his attention.
As the effects of the paralysis spell wore off he became more oriented, it became more and more obvious that he had been under that creature’s spell. Atalaya reached into her Goodberry pouch and brought out 3 of them. “Here, eat these. It will help some.” Sorrow’s hand shook as he reached for the berries. Atalaya watched to be sure he ate each and every one of them. Then she helped him to stand and walk back to the vardo.
Atalaya helped him into the vardo, demanding to know what if anything of Hope’s was inside of it and ruthlessly tossing each item out. Hope's lap harp was still lying on the small table. Looking at with distrust, Atalaya called for Mac and asked her to use her dispel magic spell on it. Only after Mac completed that did Atalaya toss it out of the vardo, throwing it as far as she could. She didn’t know if it had ever had the ability to bespell Sorrow, but she directed all her hatred for the creature that had been Hope and her frustration at not being able to kill it onto the harp as she threw it.
As they decided on their next moves, Atalaya kept looking for some of the guard to appear and demand to know what was going on. It seemed improbable that they hadn’t noticed the commotion around the vardo but no one came to inquire about what had just happened. Yes the vardo had hidden the undead creatures from the sight of those on the walls, but the fight, though quickly concluded, had not been silent. But there was no sign of the guard. Glad that they were not going to have to explain fleeing demons and undead creatures on the caravan grounds, Atalaya searched for her spent arrows, gathered up Cirilli’s and Vaz’s, and generally tried to remove all signs of the recent fight.
They gathered up the horses and hitched up the vardos, ready at last to head towards Saltmarsh. Seraphina and Tif agreed to manage Sorrow’s wagon as Sorrow collapsed onto his bunk, passing into what Atalaya hoped would be a restorative sleep. The rest of the party divided up into the remaining two vardos and with a crack of the reins, they headed away from Riverport.
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The 1 ½ day journey to Saltmarsh was uneventful. They had followed the High Road to the cutoff for Saltmarsh. For once they made the journey with no chance encounters with the denizens of the marsh or any of the recent influx of goblins, orcs or gnolls. They did see several groups of the Duke's guards patrolling the roadway. Once in Saltmarsh, and across the bridge that caused Atalaya’s skin to crawl every time she crossed it, they headed to the Greenleaf’s farm. They stowed the wagons in the barnyard and visited briefly with Ivar’s family as they sent a message to Annie to gather the crew and get the ship ready to head out to Waterdeep.
Atalaya spent a short period of time in the field where Luna grazed contentedly. “Soon she won’t even know me if we don’t stop this constant movement up and down the coast in our ship.” she thought as she buried her face into the llama's soft neck. Then, pulling an apple out of her pocket, she cut it into small pieces and fed Luna the treat, with many pats and nuzzling between each bite. Once the apple was gone, Atalaya sighed, gave Luna a final hug and turned back towards the house where her friends were still talking to Ivar’s family. When a message was brought to them that Annie had the crew gathered they said their goodbyes and headed to the Hond Ebrath.
Once onboard, they stowed their gear and helped to make ready to sail. Sorrow disappeared into his hammock, tired out from the journey and the need to interact with the Greenleafs. Seraphina disappeared into the galley and started to prepare a meal for everyone. On the deck Cirilli climbed up into the crow’s nest, one of her favorite spots on the boat and helped Kyle keep a lookout as they sailed up the coast. Ivar went to the ship’s wheel and took over the sailing of the ship. Tif and Grinda played on the masthead for a while. Atalaya and Vaz stood along the seaward side of the ship watching the horizon, softly talking. Mac and Joan were engaged in their own activities.
After sailing for a while, Cirilli began waving frantically to Ivar, pointing to the stern of the boat. Looking back, Ivar noticed a squat ship following them. Cirilli then whistled and the others looked up and saw her pointing behind them. They rushed to the stern to see what she was concerned about. As it continued to gain on them, the feeling of unease increased. After a bit the ship was close enough for them to recognize it as the Tamarind, a ship that they had already had one unsettling encounter with shortly after acquiring the Hond Ebrath. (A cargo ship which, from the look of her, has seen much better days. She moves sluggishly along, sitting low in the water, her hull scarred with old scuffs and scratches, her paint worn and faded, and her sails covered in patches. A tarnished nameplate labels her the “Tamarind”). As if they had rehearsed it many times, everyone moved into position to defend their ship. Cirilli and Kyle remained in the crow’s nest, Atalaya moved to the stern of the boat with her longbow at the ready. Annie manned the stern ballista, Lonnie went immediately to the starboard ballista and Rogelio headed to the port ballista. Tif, Grinda, Vaz and Joan ranged themselves along the side of the boat, each drawing their own ranged weapons. Tif, mentally reviewing the spells he knew, decided on making an illusion of a giant stone splashing into the water in front of the Tamarind, hoping to startle the crew and maybe even make them turn away.
No such luck. The captain of the approaching ship called out, ordering them to prepare to be boarded as he planned to take their ship, promising to set them ashore once they complied with his order.
Ivar didn’t even give a verbal response to that ridiculous demand. He glanced briefly at the crew and his adventuring band and maneuvered the boat for the greatest speed that he could coax out of the sails.
Once the ship was within Atalaya’s bow’s range she let fly several arrows aimed directly at the pirates’ captain. Both hit their mark, and the captain roared out his anger as he tried to pull the arrows out. Battle ensued quickly after that. Lonnie taking out the pirate ship’s sails with the ballista. Annie aiming at the ship’s wheel. Arrows flew at the crew members and at the ballista. Mac, using a spell that she had recently mastered, gave Annie’s ballista the ability to fling flaming arrows, which she made good use of, setting the Tamarind afire. The ship’s wheel was also afire. The rest continued to shoot at the pirates and their ballista. As the sails became more tattered the Tamarind was unable to keep up with Hond Ebrath and fell steadily behind. As they moved steadily away, the pirates could be seen frantically trying to put out the fires in the mid deck region of their ship.
After examining the ship, Ivar stated that we got off lightly. No sail damage and only minor damage to the aft ballista.
Seraphina called everyone down to the tables and served a warm meal that she had kept warm for them as they fought on the deck above her. When asked why she didn’t join them, she answered that she didn’t have the best skills for that type of fighting and someone had to be sure that they got fed. Looking directly at Atalaya she added, “and if by some unheard of chance they made it onto the boat and down here, I would have made sure they never made it back to the top deck.”
Sorrow remained in his room, avoiding everyone.
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By the next evening, the Hond Ebrath sailed into the port at Waterdeep. Berthing was arranged for the week and a report of the attempted boarding by the crew of the Tamarind was reported to the port authorities. Then leaving the crew to make repairs and settle the ship for the night, Atalaya and her friends headed into the port district to have a meal at the Friendly Flounder.
Atalaya made sure that Vaz's face was covered as much as possible with his cloak’s hood as they walked through the streets.
Session Ends
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