Cut Scene: During the short rest, 7th Day of Kythorn,1492

   7th Day of Kythorn, Phylund Lodge Stable      

The tired group of adventurers surveyed the carnage in the stable turned bunkroom. Light filtered through the cracks and holes in the severely damaged roof.  Realizing that they needed to give themselves time to recover from their wounds and to ready themselves for whatever was to come next, they barricaded the doorways leading into the stable as best they could and cleared an area of dead gnolls to rest in.  There wasn’t much they could do about the awful stench the dead creatures emitted though.

Atalaya sat, with her back to one of the walls from which the bunks had been cleared away to form the door barricades.  Cirilli sat near her and Atalaya explained how to check each of her spent arrows for any signs of cracking or weakness that would make them ineffective during combat.  Cleaning them of blood, she patiently explained each step of refletching the arrows as her ward watched avidly, her finger unconsciously mirroring Atalaya’s motions.  Atalaya smiled when she noticed that, remembering her own impatience when being taught by Aliwin.  

“You can practice this for yourself when we recover arrows spent by our foes.  But be sure that you keep them separated from those that are yours, until you have perfected your skills.  You need to be able to trust your arrow in the fights we are likely to have as we cleanse this lodge of the evil that has overtaken it.”

“For now, look over this arrow.  What is needed for it?  Should I clean and repair it, or cut off the arrowhead and toss the shaft?”

Cirilli examined the arrow carefully, turning it around in her hands.  “Repair the fletching?” she asked.  

Atalaya took back the arrow and turned it in her hands as she looked at it.  “First, it must be cleaned of blood.  See here?  We don’t know what has happened to the shaft under this.  Wet the rag and wipe it clean and then look again.”

Joan, watching from a few feet away, smiled.  She had her own repair kit out and was performing the same tasks as Atalaya was teaching Cirilli.  

After a few minutes working, Atalaya frowned while looking at an arrow.  Gaining Cirilli’s attention she showed her a crack running up the shaft.  “See here? This one is cracked.  Even though it appears sound, it is not.  The best we can do is remove the arrowhead like this.  Now it can be placed on a new shaft.” 

 

Opening a second bundle within her repair kit, Atalaya brought out a new shaft.  “It’s always good to keep a supply of new shafts with you.  You don’t want to run out of arrows.  I know you are learning to use the sword also, but arrows keep the foes at a distance, which is usually safer for you.  Running out of arrows puts us at a disadvantage.”  

Cirilli frowned with concentration as she watched Atalaya bind the arrowhead to the new shaft.  “Where do you get the shafts?  Do you make them yourself?  Can I learn to do that too?”

“Well, I like best the shafts that I make, or those of my father’s.  But there is not always appropriate wood to make them yourself, or the time and tools needed to do so.  Ash and oak wood is the best for making war arrows such as these.  You need a heavier, stronger wood.  But there are many choices of wood, depending on what you want the arrow for, and what is available.”  

Turning the shaft around she reached for the feathers and her glue.  Searching through the remaining feathers, Atalaya picked out three.  “See these?  They are all of a similar size and weight.  Here, I’ll trim this one slightly and then they will match,”  Atalaya continued to instruct Cirilli as she worked to replace the broken arrow.  Finally smiling, she put the arrow aside.  “We’ll just let that set for a while.  I won’t put that one in my quiver to use today.  It will go into the bag of holding with the others I have just repaired.  The glue on the fletching needs to dry out completely before use and the bindings also need to dry so that they hold the head on securely.   That’s why I carry so many arrows, and always pick up spent arrows, mine and the enemies’.”

“Okay, these are done for now.  Did you eat something?  You need to keep your body prepared and ready to fight.  You need the energy from the food to be at your best.”

Cirilli nodded.  “Yes, I’ve eaten.”

“Good.  Now just rest your mind and body.  We will be pushing on soon.”  Atalaya reached over and gently pulled Cirilli over so that her head rested against her shoulder.  “Just rest.  We are as safe as we can be at the moment.”

Cirilli rested.

Atalaya, looked over towards Vasilya and gestured for him to bring her his spent arrows.  “I’ll just take a look at those for you while she sleeps,” she said in a low voice. Vasilya settled next to her, handing her arrows when she indicated and just watching as she methodically checked each, repairing them as needed..  

Firehammer Hold, Continuation of the 16th Day of Mirtul,

April 2, 2021 Game notes from Atalaya 

Continuing the adventures of 16th of Mirtul, 1491 somewhere along the WNW border of the Forlorn Hills outside of Firehammer Hold

Atalaya looked at Tif with concern showing in her eyes.  He was pacing around the others muttering to himself, clearly upset about finding the pit filled with the broken bodies of many, many people.   “We are going to find out what happened to them Tif.  You need to calm down so we can plan how we are going to do just that.”

Tifinin looked at her with despair and anger warring across his face.  Not answering he turned away and continued his pacing.  His despair gave way, leaving nothing but raging anger that burned through his body and filled his thoughts with nothing but revenge for those left in the pit and for the villagers that they had been looking for.  Suddenly, even as Atalaya was looking straight at him, he disappeared from sight.  Calling softly for him had no result.  Atalaya wanted to pull her hair out, but instead turned back to the rest of the group, finding Macterah, Ivar and Vasilya watching her.  Myricia, their small pseudodragon, had also disappeared.  

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Atalaya led the small group of adventurers slowly and carefully towards the hold, searching out the most cover she could find, but keeping them as far from the pit as she could.  With care they finally crossed the last open area and reached the double doors of the hold.  They were massive stone doors with large 9 foot tall slate bas-relief statues of dwarven warriors flanking each side of the doorway.  Large knockers were situated in the middle of each door at about a 4 foot tall height.  As they approached the entrance to the hold, Atalaya heard Myricia’s voice in her head warning her that they needed to stop.  Tif was already in the hold and needed them to wait until he returned outside.  Atalaya, once again wanting to pull some hair out, but now not sure whether she wanted to pull out her own or Tifinin’s, signaled the others to hold still.  Feeling highly exposed in the open area, Atalaya waited to hear something from Myricia or to see Tif appear through the closed doors. 

After waiting for a few minutes that seemed like hours to Atalaya, Myricia announced that Tif was heading back out of the building.  Suddenly her panicked mind voice called out “Now!!! You need to go now!  Something has happened to Tif!”

Myricia’s voice must have been heard by everyone because Vasilya lunged towards the door, checking quickly for traps or locks, but finding none.  He pushed the door open, revealing an empty hall.  Macterah reached into her component pouch, pulled out a small packet containing some mistletoe ash and a sprig of spruce. Quickly opening it, she rubbed them together and tossed the ashes over the heads of the group.  A slight feeling of power washed over their bodies and then silence prevailed as they entered the building looking for any signs of Tif.  Trusting in Macterah’s spell to help keep them hidden, they carefully made their way down the hallway.  Atalaya saw signs of blood ahead of her and ignoring the door she saw in the hallway made her way to where the blood trail began.  Going down some steps she saw that it opened into a squarish room.  She almost stumbled as she saw Tif suddenly appear at the end of the hallway.  

Atalaya grabbed Tifinin and pulled him back up the hallway away from the opening to the room they could see ahead of them.  Macterah dropped to her knees, checking for his pulse and looking for injuries.  Slowly Tif started moving and then suddenly sat up looking around him.  At the barrage of questions flung at him asking him what he had done and if he was hurt, it became apparent that he could remember nothing about what had just happened.  

Once both Macterah and Atalaya were sure that he was not hurt more than having hit his head and being unable to remember recent events, the group carefully made their way into the room at the end of the hallway.  It seemed to be a guard room.  There was a fire burning in a corner fireplace, a table with a few chairs and some racks that probably once held weapons on either side of a door on the western wall.  There was an archway in the northern wall with the hallway continuing beyond that.  In the center of the room they could see the remains of several druegar, maybe four Atalaya thought, though it was hard to tell.  Blood was everywhere and there were bits of hacked off limbs and flesh littering the floor.  Atalaya looked at it in amazement and a little bit of fear.  She could not imagine how they were all so terribly wounded and Tifinin had only been knocked out without other visible wounds.  Tifinin looked over the bodies but still could not remember anything that had happened, or so he said.  

Atalaya walked over to the door. Hearing nothing, she asked for Vaz or Ivar to check it for traps and locks.  Finding none, Atalaya opened the door, saw a giant lizard and slammed the door shut before it could truly register that the door had been opened.  Atalaya had not wanted to need to shoot it, therefore canceling the spell Macterah had placed on them.  

With that area closed to them, Atalaya led everyone north through the archway and farther into the hold.  The hallway ended in another room.  This one was larger than the guardroom and seemed that at one time it might have been a chapel.  There was a large statue of Haela Brightaxe, a dwarven battle goddess.  Dried blood was everywhere over the floor although there were no signs of dead bodies.  Atalaya looked around, taking it all in.  She noticed arrow slits in the east and west walls.  Looking through the eastern ones she saw druegar in the room behind the wall.  

Tif had disappeared again, but the rest of the group readied themselves to ambush the druegar.  Wishing that she could get them to congregate to make shooting them easier, Atalaya threw a gold coin into the room.  Unfortunately, the druegar remained isolated, showing little interest in the coin and more in determining where it had come from.  Taking a deep breath, Atalaya nodded at Mac, who sent a bolt of lightning into the room which killed one of them instantly and wounded another.  Atalaya started shooting, as did Vaz and Ivar.  The arrow slits both provided cover and made shooting more difficult.  Even with that, they quickly dispatched the druegar that had been in the room.  

Looking around, Atalaya noticed that Tifinin had made his way back into the room and was gesturing to them to follow him back the way we had come.  Stopping at another set of carved stone double doors, he suggested that they try that way.  The door specialists, Ivar and Vaz, checked the doors out and decided that they were both untrapped and unlocked.  With another look at the elaborate carvings of fighting dwarves on the doors, Atalaya pushed them open and entered into the next passageway.  This one was very short.  The north and south walls are decorated with ornate brass torch scones and two friezes of azure slate that depict dwarves fighting dragons.  Tif pushed ahead and opened the door at the end of the hallway and entered the room that appeared to be a dining room.  Worried about Tifinin, Atalaya followed him, searching the room for any signs of more druegar. 

The rest of the party started to follow just as two plumes of flame burst out of the walls.  Atalaya and Vaz were in the direct path of these and even though they tried to dodge out of the way were still caught in the flames. Swatting out the flames Atalaya tried to determine what exactly had just happened.  Looking around she noted two holes in the wall, one directly ahead of the entrance way, and one near the corner of the north wall in line with those entering the room.  Eating the Goodberries handed to her by Macterah, she debated how to secure the room.  Ivar, Tifinin,and Mac decided to place some tables along the walls in front of the holes.  Atalaya was unsure whether or not they would actually provide any protection from the flames, but it felt good to at least try to do something.  

There was a passageway in the wall near the northeast corner, heading north.  Just as they were beginning to feel the effects of the Goodberries two druegars appeared in the passageway and were about to enter the room. Seeing the room full of intruders they immediately began shooting at Vasilya and Ivar who were closest to them.  Both men were hit, but the commotion alerted the rest of the party.  Atalaya had her bow drawn and arrows flying from it within seconds of seeing Vasilya hit.  The druegar continued to appear from somewhere deeper in the building.  While Atalaya’s attention was focused on the northern end of the room, a door opened in the southwestern wall and more druegar entered the fight from that side.  These included two druegar priests.  One of them cast a spell that seemed to paralyze Vasilya.  Determined to protect Vasilya, Atalaya shot at the priest who she thought was preventing Vasilya from moving while Ivar grabbed him and pulled him behind a pillar, hoping that it would provide Vasilya with some more cover. 

Mac, focusing on the power she gathered from the ground below her, had turned into an ape and was attacking the warriors and priests while Tifinin was shooting at them with his new magical crossbow bolts.  The battle was short but very intense.  Ape Mac was damaged enough that she returned to her natural form.  She saw Ivar get a shot off that killed the priest that was bespelling Vasilya. Tif continued to shoot at anything threatening Macterah.   

Suddenly there was silence. Atalaya looked around realizing that there was no one left to shoot at.  With a muffled cry she headed towards Vasilya, muttering curses about his thinking he needed to be a walking pincushion.  Reaching his side she knelt beside him and carefully cut away the broken arrow and removed the arrowheads.  Cleaning out the wounds as best she could, she placed her palms together and made a small circle as she said something that Vaz could not quite make out.  Then as her hands started to glow with a warming healing energy she placed them over his wounds, willing them to close and for his body to return to health.  Her eyes closed in concentration as she continued her low muttered mantra of healing.  Atalaya could feel the skin knitting together.  After a few moments she felt the last of the healing energy leave her hands.  Looking at Vasilya she could tell that he was better but probably still hurting.  Bidding Vasilya to sit still, she looked around to see if anyone else was hurt.  

Not seeing Macterah immediately, she got up to look for her and noticed her coming out of the room that the priests must have come out of.  At Macterah’s gesture, she hurried over to see what the room held.  The first thing she noticed was the throne.  Then she saw the fireplace and the bedrolls in front of it.  As she looked further she noticed the bas-reliefs of dwarven kings, the black banner with a broken crossbow bolt held in red hands hanging on the wall.  Looking at Macterah, she noticed that Mac was carrying some scrolls and a silver bowl back towards the rest of the group.

Deciding that a short rest was needed as everyone recovered from the recent fight, everyone worked together to block the entrances to the room as well as possible and then looked over the scrolls.  They seemed to be renovation plans for the hold.  Using those, the group decided that the mine must be to the north end of the structure.  Looking into the silver bowl revealed a collection of teeth; human, halfling and possibly elven.  Atalaya shuttered as she looked at them and took out a small pouch and placed the teeth into it, vowing silently to herself to bury them with the elven ear necklaces in the dryad’s grove outside of Julkoun.   

After a couple of hours, they got ready to press on, looking for where the Julkounian captives were being held, more certain than ever that this was where they had been brought.  Tif, unable to wait for everyone else to get ready, headed out on his own.  Atalaya watched him leave wondering what was driving him.  She had never seen him so hyper focused and bloodthirsty before.  Carefully and methodically they searched through the rooms they came upon, eliminating any druegar they came across.  There were several barrack rooms.  One that had more arrow slits revealing a cavern with a rail track and a minecart in it.  The tracks seemed to start in that room and lead off in a northerly direction. Beyond the minecart Atalaya could see two iron gates and then more druegar behind the second grate.  Another room they found held a large furnace with a bellows system.  

Behind the barrack rooms was a passage that appeared to lead to a lower level.  Atalaya wanted to go that way, looking for the mine and the villagers.  Tifinin, however, was determined to head back to the Chapel room and search the passages on the other side.  Atalaya, seeing that he was driven to explore the entire hold and would not rest until it had been searched, and would probably leave them and search them on his own if they did not go with him, gave in to Tifinin.  “Just let me make a quick check to be sure that this is the way down and that there is no one there right now to creep up behind us.”  Tifinin agreed to wait just long enough for her to do that.  Determining that there was no one likely to come up behind them, and that this seemed to be the way deeper into the hold, hopefully into the mine, Atalaya came back to the group and then started back through the rooms they had already cleared of threats.  Through the dining room, and back to the Chapel room the crept, keeping as quiet as possible.  

Entering the passage to the west of the chapel room, Atalaya and Ivar were in front of the others.  As the hallway turned and headed back in the direction of the chapel Atalaya heard the sounds of metal scraping along the walls.  Looking up she saw a gate crashing down in front of her.  Turning to race back in the other direction she saw a gate drop down behind them.  Both she and Ivar were caught between the gates.  Tif, Vaz and Macterah raced to the gate trying to raise it so that they could get out.  Looking up the passage, past the first gate Atalaya could see more druegar racing to attack whoever their trap had caught.  Drawing her bow Atalaya took aim at the shot at them as they appeared, as did Ivar.  After that small annoyance was settled, Atalaya and Ivar returned to the gate where their friends were trying to release them.  Tifinin put on his ring and with the added strength that it imparted to him was able to raise the gate high enough for Ivar and Atalaya to roll out from under.  Giving up and moving through in that direction, they returned to their previous location, outside the door that they were sure would open into the caverns behind the hold and hopefully to where the Julkounian captives were being held.  

Session Ends.  

Cut Scene: Return to the Grove, 23rd Day of Mirtul

 

By Katrina

23rd of Mirtul, 1491    Julkoun

Atalaya walked outside the door of The Jester’s Pride and leaned on the wall.  Looking around this section of the village she smiled to herself as she saw that the survivors of the Firehammer Mine and the villagers who had taken refuge in both Riverport and Secomber were still celebrating finding each other alive after so long a time.  Watching their faces as they sought out friends and family and seeing a few finding each other again made the arduous work from the past couple of weeks worth it.  

Speaking with Sir Istevan and Kelson had not been reassuring for her.  It was good to know that there were others besides herself and her friends that were taking the threat of the Red Wizards showing so much interest in this area as seriously as they were.  But at the same time it drove home the fact that they had been right to be so concerned about the threat that the wizards presented.  Atalaya sighed and longed briefly for the easier days, when life seemed so new and glorious as she traveled through the woods and mountains at her father’s side.  Her biggest problems had been to understand all the woodlore that he was trying to pour into her at a rate that would satisfy him and to keep up with him without alerting all the woodland creatures to her passage through their forest homes.  

The afternoon sun peaked out from behind the slowly moving clouds and birdsong could be heard from around the less populated areas of the city.  Atalaya listened, identifying each as they chirped and warbled. They had gotten everyone to Julkoun safe and sound.  Tomorrow they could head for home and then on to Riverport to reunite with the rest of their family.  During the past week Atalaya had only been able to spare short random thoughts about those that had not come on this particular quest.  Now, she had time to wonder how Cirilli was and about what Joan had been teaching her while she was gone.  It bothered her that she had had so little chance to train the girl herself.  But Cirilli’s skills had been growing steadily with her time spent with Ivar’s family, with Seraphina and now hopefully with Joan.  There was plenty of woods to explore around Riverport and she was confident in Joan’s skills.  She had watched Joan during their travels.  She could see the hand of Master Elaria in her skills, and mayhaps those of another.  Or perhaps that was just Joan’s own personal style.  But Atalaya trusted her with her own life and the lives of those who were dear to her.  Cirilli had been in good hands.  But still, she longed to see her again and to take her training in hand herself.  A trip into the High Forest would be so good for both of them.  With a start, she amended that thought.  It would be good for Cirilli, Vaz and herself.  Yes, she had reasons to take both of them into the High Forest.  Soon, she promised herself.  We will go soon. 

Hearing the others walking out of the tavern, she brought herself back to the here and now.  Seeing Ivar and Kelson she motioned for them to join her.  Looking into Ivar’s eyes she stated, “I have something that needs to be done before we leave tomorrow.  Will you both join me at Oyfanen’s Grove?  

Kelson looked puzzled, quirking his eyebrow at her.  “Whose grove?”  “You need me to go with you?”

Ivar also looked like he didn’t know what Atalaya was talking about.  “Of course I’ll go with you,” he stated.  “What’s up?”

“We need to let Oyfanen know that those taken captive have been returned, at least some of them.  And we have our finds from both Harpshield and Firehammer Hold to be interred.”  Turning her gaze to Kelson she added, “We found many disturbing things during the past weeks, but the worst was a necklace of elf ears worn like a badge of honor around a particular deplorable orc’s neck.”  Seeing the horror and fury on Kelson’s face, she continued, “His neck no longer has need of adornment of any type, rest assured of that friend Kelson.  But unfortunately this is not the first such atrocity we have found.  I wanted to place it to rest with the others that the Dryad Oyfanen watches over.  We also found some teeth; human, halfling and dwarven at Firehammer set aside for unknown purposes.  I thought that those could also be put to rest there.  We were not able to do anything for the bodies that we found, so perhaps this can stand for all who fell at Firehammer.  

Ivar, understanding what Atalaya was talking about now, placed his hand on her shoulder.  “Yes, of course I will go with you.  Should I get the others?”

“No.  Let them continue to talk with Sir Istevan and see to the settling in of our charges.  I would like to find James and the sisters Shonda and Jiminah.  James should know about Oyfanen and he can reassure her that they have returned.  The clerics should also be aware of her presence and can maybe help to hallow the ground where we have placed the remains.  I will let Vaz know where we are going and see if he wants to join us.”

Ivar smiled and tried very hard to not laugh as he turned his face away from Atalaya’s. “I think you already know what Boz is going to want to do.” Then he added, “I believe that James and Milik were checking out the fortifications that the goblins set up and looking for any other surviving guard members.  I’ll go look for them.”  Ivar set out to cross the bridge to the other half of the town in search of them.  

Turning to Kelson, Atalaya said, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.  But I thought that you might want to help us honor the memory of the elves whose lives were lost.  It seemed fitting to me that those with elven blood be there to remember and honor them.”

 Fire was still spiking out of Kelson’s eyes as he stated with firm quiet authority, “I will accompany you.  Let me tell Istevan that I am leaving with you, and why.  I’ll be right back.”

“You can meet us at the West Gate.  I’m going to look for Vaz, Sister Shonda and Sister Jeminah.”  

Atalaya entered The Jester’s Pride with Kelson, but continued on through it when he stopped to talk to Istevan.  Seeing Vasilya talking with some of the others, she motioned for him to join her as she  headed for the corridors behind the taproom.  Vaz quickly excused  himself and followed after her.  “What’s up?” he asked.  

‘I’m heading back to the Grove to bury the ears and teeth we collected on our last couple of adventures.  I’m taking a few others with me, but thought that you would want to come with me.  If you don’t or if you have things that you need to do with the refugees or Sir Istevan, that’s okay too.”  

“You know that you are not going off without me again, right?” Vaz stated with a fierce scowl.  He quickened his steps slightly so that he was walking right next to Atalaya.  Placing his hand on her shoulder he stopped her and turned her to face him.  “I need to know that you are safe.  I …”

“I know.  That’s why I asked if you wanted to come with me,” she said, breaking into Vaz’s concerns.  “Come with me, we will find the clerics and then meet the others at the West Gate.”  Tugging on his hand she headed towards the chapel.

As they crossed over the bridge to the annex on the other side of the moat Atalaya averted her eyes from the spot where she had cut down the killed Chauntean priest on their first trip through the Julkoun.  Heading down the hallway to the small defiled chapel where she had left the two clerics she felt a lessening of the ominous heaviness that she remembered from her last visits to this place.  Clearly Shondra and Jeminah were already hard at work restoring this sacred space.  Stopping just outside the open doorway Atalaya checked to see if her entering would disturb the two clerics.  They seemed to be having a conversation about the deep gouges and chiseled filth that had been left on the walls.  Atalaya cleared her voice, alerting them to her presence and then entered the chapel.  

“Hello Atalaya and Vasilya.  Do you need us?” questioned Shonda.  

“Yes. I would like you both to come with me.  I have someone I would like you to meet.  And I have what remains of a few of the marauders’ victims that need to be properly laid to rest. I’m sorry, it will involve a little more walking but…”

“What do you mean, ‘What remains’?” asked Sister Jeminah.

Averting her gaze, “I mean, some ears and teeth.”  When she saw the shocked expressions on their faces she stopped.  Quickly backtracking she added, “I don’t think that they are from anyone in Julkoun.  The ears are all elven.  And came from Harpshield Castle.  The teeth…. Well I really don’t know.  They seem to be a mixture of dwarven, halfling and human and they were found at Firehammer Hold.  I don’t know why they were being kept or where they originally came from. I wish that I could tell you that none of these came from anyone from here, but the truth is that I just don’t know. But I do know that they deserve to be laid to rest with reverence.  Both they and those who loved them deserve that.” 

Sister Jeminah patted Shonda's hand.  “Peace child.  Yes, it’s terrible to think about, but we can be of service.”  Turning to Atalaya she asked, “When do you wish to do this?  Right now?”

“Yes.  I would like to have you back here before nightfall if at all possible.  We will be heading back to Riverport in the morning.  We left some of our friends there, and our young wards.  We really need to get  back to them.”

“Of course you do, my dear.  Give us just a moment to get ready.”  Sister Jeminah pushed herself up from the floor where she had been inspecting the defiled walls and made her way over to the bucket of clean water that was placed on one of the pews nearby.  Rinsing her hands she looked down at her torn and dirty robes,  “We no longer have the proper vestments, but I’m sure that Chauntea will see only the intent and not worry about the details.  Come Sister Shonda, let us go with Atalaya and Vasilya.”

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Approaching the grove, Atalaya and Ivar noticed a slight movement in the trees above them.  Without thought they both grabbed their bows and shot at the dark menacing shape.  Three arrows hit their targets almost simultaneously and the small red eyes blinked closed for the last time as a darkenbeast fell from the tree in front of them.  The eerie light from its luminous bones faded away and suddenly a large black and white cow stood before them.    Its confused mooing made Atalaya smile.  “Well, that’s another of them.  Let’s bring it along.  It can visit the grove with us. We can bring it and our previous spy back to the village when we leave.”  

A few moments later they entered the peaceful glade, Sister Jeminah leading the cow as she followed behind the others.   

 Looking around him, Kelson gave a slight shiver as he felt the presence of another being in the glade.  “What…” he started as he reached for his bow.  Atalaya placed her hand on his arm, stopping the movement.  “Calm.  There is naught to fear here.  This place is well protected.  Come, it is time for you all to meet Oyfanen.”  Atalaya and Vaz headed towards the big oak tree that stood tall and straight in the southwest part of the grove, Kelson and the villagers close behind them.  Ivar, gave one final searching look back through the forest before he turned to follow the rest towards the dryad’s tree.   

Sunlight glittered through the leaves casting dancing shadows across the ground in front of the large oak.  As they approached a breeze swept through the glade and the branches of the oak tree swayed back and forth frightening several songbirds which swooped by the party as they made their way forward.  James ducked instintctively as a brightly plumed hepatic tanager flew past his head.  It’s soft red feathers rustling his hair as it sped away.  

Atalaya raised a hand, indicating to the group to hold their position as she made another step forward and bowed.  Looking up, Atalaya saw Oyfanen stepping out from the oak’s trunk.  “I greet you, Mistress of this place.”  Watching as Oyfanen took a step forward she added, “We have returned, bringing many of the Julkounians back with us.  The town is once again the home to those whom you missed.  I hope that this pleases you.”

       Oyfanen smiled at the three adventurers.  Then looked around for the rest of the party.  “Where is the druid?  And the rest of your company?  They did not die to bring my villagers back to me, did they?”

“No, milady,” answered Vaz, bowing in turn.  “They remained in the town, helping those that we just brought back to find friends and relatives and to organize themselves to take the town back to themselves.”  

Ivar, also bowing, greeted the dryad, “They send their greetings and thanks with us.  We are most grateful that you told us of those who had been taken captive.  We were able to save many of them.”

Atalaya nodded.  “That is so.  And we have brought these three here to represent those that you saved with your words of concern.  This is James.  He has become a leader of the townsfolk that we returned to the village.  And these are clerics of Chauntea, Sister Jeminah and Sister Shonda.  Both priestesses made formal bows to the lithe and beautiful spirit that gazed intently at them.  Their eyes shone with wonder at seeing such a creature for the first time.  

James seemed slightly taken aback by the figure standing in front of him and belatedly made his own rather jerky bow.  “I greet you Lady.  And if it was indeed your words that sent these heroes out in search of us, you have my deepest thanks.  We could not have lasted much longer in the mines where we were taken.  So you have my thanks and pledge that I will help you in any way that is within my abilities if you need me.  All of us are so grateful to be home again.”

Oyfanen smiled as she looked over those standing before her.  “And this elf?  Who is he?  I don’t believe that he is from Julkoun.”

Kelson, taking a deep breath and mentally shaking himself, stepped closer, bowed deeply and looking into the dryad’s eyes said, “My name is Kelson.  Kelson Darktreader.  I greet thee, great lady.  I am but a guide and aide to the people of Julkoun who have returned after their flight to Riverport.  I am honored that you choose to speak with us.”  Shooting an amused but also slightly put upon look at Atalaya he whispered to her, “You could have warned me.”  

Gesturing to them to seat themselves on the ground Oyfanen turned towards her tree and reaching in, brought out a tray with mugs of a fragrant herbal tea.  After giving one to each guest she seated herself with her visitors.  She spoke, her voice a soft lilting cadence that seemed to match the rustling of the trees around them, “My forest friends have brought word of the return of the townsfolk.  I am glad that you have come to bring me this news as well.  The weapons that I have watched over are here and safe.  As is the cow.  I’ve seen signs of other watchers, but they dare not come into this grove. I see that you have ‘found’ another cow.  Will you want to leave it here also? Or, are you planning to return these beings to the people of Julkoun now?”

“We will return them to the villagers.  There is little left for them in the town.”

“And will the villagers continue on as before?  Will you keep the goblins and orcs from terrorizing my forest.  And will you keep your axes and farming implements far from my grove?”

“Yes, my lady,” said James.  “We will do this for you. I did not know of you before today, but I promise that our children’s children’s children will revere this forest and consider it a holy place, not to be disturbed in any way.”

Looking at the priestesses of Chauntea she spoke again.  “And what of your goddess?  She is known to me.  She seeks to settle the wild lands, turning the forests into fields to grow her bounty.  Do you also promise me that my forest will remain standing, a place of safety for the wild animals of the woodlands and for myself?”

Taking a deep breath, Sister Jeminah stood and answered Oyfanen.  “My lady.  It may be true that there are times when Chauntea and Silvanus differ on what is best for a given area, however, Chauntea is also concerned about all nature and has many ties to those who also share this concern, including Mielikki and Shaiallia.  We who are devoted to her understand that all the lands cannot be put to the plow.  There must always be balance.  We will promise to teach the people of this village that these woods must remain a wilderness and refuge for the creatures of this area.  And that they are responsible for providing this refuge to them just as they needed refuge from the goblins that drove them from their homes.  We will do our part to keep you safe, in remembrance of your help to bring us home.”  Bowing to the dryad, Sister Jeminah sat down again and waited to see what would happen next.

Oyfanen returned the sister’s bow.  “I thank you all.  I have loved the people of Julkoun for many many years.  They are good people.  I am glad to have met you and happy to have reached this understanding with you.  As long as you keep this bargain, as long as you keep the axes and plows from my forest and honor all that live within it, we shall have peace between us.  And I will do all that I can to keep your enemies from approaching you through this forest.”

They all sat, sipping their tea as the wind continued to softly rustle through the branches above them.  Birdsong had returned to the glade and the sound of cows mooing was also heard.  As they sat, peace filled each of them, lightening the pain each carried in their spirits.  After time had  passed, Atalaya again looked into Oyfanen’s eyes.  “We have one other sad responsibility to perform while we are here, with your permission.”  Seeing that she had Oyfanen’s attention, she continued.  “I… we would like to bury another necklace of elven ears with those that we already have   laid to rest here.  And a handful of teeth also.  It seems that there have been many victims of the evil ones that have been raiding the lands here in the Delimbyr Vale and along the Sword Coast.  I wish to give these at least a peaceful rest, if you will permit it.”

“Of course, child.  Let them rest with the others.  They shall have peace here.”  Atalaya nodded her thanks to Oyfanen and rose, gesturing to the others to follow her and led them to the rock where they had buried the other grimsome relics.   Reaching into her backpack to find a metal cook bowl to use as a scoop, she quickly dug another hole near to the previous spot.  Then pulling out the pouch containing the elven ears and another with the teeth that had been found in Firehammer Hold she handed them to Sister Shonda.  “Please, will you hallow this ground and see that they are safely laid to rest, that  no malfeasance lingers upon them.”  Then she stepped back and waited while the clerics conferred.  

Sister Shonda took the items and passing her hands over them seemed to seek a place deep inside herself.  Her hands glowed as she softly spoke over the pieces of teeth and ears and they seemed to shimmer slightly.  After a moment or two the light left the priestess’s  hands and the items in them returned to their normal state.  Sister Shonda swayed slightly and then spoke with a quiet voice.  “No evil remains in them.”

While this was happening Sister Jeminah had knelt by the hole and made the sign of Chauntea over the land as she prayed.  When Sister Shonda was ready, she took first the necklace of ears and then the teeth, placing everything reverently into the space that she had hallowed.  Then covering them with the earth piled beside the hole she stood and led the group in another short prayer.  Tears gathering in Kelson’s eyes he murmured, “I wonder how many of my missing friends we buried today.”  Kneeling, he pressed his hand to the earth.  “Be at rest.” Then he stood and walked back to Oyfanen’s tree.  

Ivar, looking very solemn, followed Kelson and stood silently beside him.  Vasilya placed his arm around Atalaya’s waist and slowly guided her back to the tree also. No one spoke for several minutes until the priestesses returned from the gravesite.  

Taking a deep breath, Ivar turned to the others.  We need to retrieve the weapons and then head back to the village.  It would be best to get there before nightfall.”

*************************************************************************************

As the sun was setting a cry went out from the watchtower at the western gate.  “They are returning,  I can see them,'' cried an excited teen, Sully Coopersmith, who had agreed to stand a watch at the town’s entrance.  Quickly the news spread through the village and as Ivar lead the weary group through the town gate Macterah, Tifinin, Jekk and Sir Istevan were there to greet them. 

 

Cut Scene: Watch, Late Night of 16 Mirtul, 1491

By Katrina 

 Watch, Late Night of 16 Mirtul, 1491

 

         Atalaya sat with her back against the large log watching the fire while Vasilya’s head rested in her lap.  She stroked back his hair as she listened to the sounds of the Julkounians settling down for the night. Her eyes searched for movement in the surrounding woods.  Hearing an owl hooting in the distance and the chittering of a raccoon as it moved through the woods she relaxed slightly.  Nothing but normal nighttime sounds reached her ears. Thinking about the last two days she still didn’t really believe that they had managed to rescue so many of the missing villagers.  She had hoped to be able to bring a handful of people back to Julkoun but instead they were bringing twenty one people back with them.  They had even found the missing dwarf, Jekk. That was a surprise, but as she thought about it, she decided that it made sense.   He had been so interested in the Delimbyr Bloke that he had made the imitation stone in Riverport … of course he would be searching for information about it.  Who better to talk to about his problem stone than other dwarves?  

Thinking about how he looked when they first found him, Atalaya knew that Jekk was extremely lucky that they had gone back through the area where he had been held. For whatever reason, the room had not been checked when they first cleared the area.  Atalaya couldn’t remember why they hadn’t opened that door originally, but thank all the gods and goddesses they had opened it while they were looting the place for supplies for the freed captives.  They had found Jekk so severely hurt that it had taken both a healing potion and Macterah’s restoration spell to get him on his feet again so that he could walk out of the mine with the rest of the villagers.  She hadn’t been sure that he could have stayed alive much longer.  He had looked close to death when they had found him shackled in the spell caster’s room.  The urge to go back and make sure that every single duergar was eradicated from the place was strong, but Atalaya realized that it was more important to get the villagers back to Julkoun.  

She looked around the campsite, finding where Jekk had rolled himself up in one of the blankets they had taken from the hold.  He looked to be sound asleep already.  Atalaya hoped so.  They had a lot of miles to cover when they started off again.

         The night wind blew softly through the tree branches, rustling them softly as she continued to watch.  Looking up, she could make out a few stars peeking out among the many clouds being blown around.  “Please,” she thought, “please be clearing up.  We don’t need to be marching these people through any rainstorms.  Surely we have had enough of those to allow us a few days grace.  Silvanus, please just give us a few clear days to get them to Julkoun.” Making his holy sign, she dropped her eyes to the forest, scanning and listening for any sign of pursuit, or anything else that did not belong.  But all seemed quiet at the moment.  Almost unconsciously, her hand swept over Vasilya’s hair.  The gentle movement of his body as he breathed a balm to her nerves.  He needed this sleep and she was glad that she had not needed to talk him into taking care of himself for what was left of tonight.  Remembering the sight of him, bleeding so seriously while lying in that corridor still filled her with terror.  

She scanned the horizon again and then looked towards the sleeping villagers.   The low murmurs from earlier had silenced and soft snores could be heard coming from a few of them.  Vasilya stirred restlessly and she turned her attention back to him.  Crooning wordlessly, she rested her hand lightly on his chest and attempted to will him back to a dreamless sleep.  He stilled and seemed to be resting peacefully again.  Atalaya scanned the edges of the camp, looking for danger, any movement that didn’t belong, and listened to the night sounds.   The sky was maybe a shade lighter.  Morning was not that long off, even though it seemed that they had just gotten here. 

         Once she was sure that Vasilya was sleeping soundly, she slowly eased him to the ground and stood.  Checking the sleeping figures around the clearing again, she then made a careful scouting trip around the perimeter of the camp. As silently as a shade she moved in and out between the trees looking for anything out of place.  Finding nothing disturbing, she made her way over to the villagers, walking quietly through their ranks, again searching for anything that seemed out of place, or anyone unable to sleep due to hurts that had not been disclosed earlier or those who were still too traumatized to sleep.  She was curious to see if her passage would be challenged by any of them.  Was there perhaps someone trying to keep a watch among them?  As she walked she continued to mull over the problem of how to move so many people without coming to the notice of the duergar, orcs or Red Wizards.  They had days of travel ahead of them.   How could she keep them all safe and moving? 

         She noted that the few women survivors had gathered together, sleeping near each other.  One of the clerics, Atalaya thought that her name was Sister Shonda was sitting with another of the ladies, a soft glow manifesting itself around her hands as she held them over the young woman’s side.  Nodding to herself, Atalaya stopped and watched for a moment.  The young woman seemed to rest easier and Atalaya noticed that her breathing was definitely deeper and steadier.  Placing her hand upon the woman’s brow, the Sister appeared to be praying for her or maybe blessing her.  After a few moments she stood, and then noticed Atalaya watching her.  She carefully made her way around the sleeping women, her eyes fastened upon Atalaya.  Her movements deliberate as she attempted to hide her limping gait.  Atalaya started towards her, intending to save the cleric a few steps, but Sister Shonda shook her head and then gazed towards a spot that was still just within the light of the woman’s fire, but away from the sleeping women. She turned her steps towards that spot and Atalaya joined her there.

         “Are you in need of help, child?” queried the cleric, looking deeply into Atalaya’s eyes.  “You do not seem hurt, though your clothing tells me that you have not reached this point without taking some harm.  I have not much left to give as I have been tending to my fellow former captives, but I am sure that if you are truly in need, I can ask Chauntea to help you.”

         Looking into the Sister’s kindly face, Atalaya shook her head. “There is no need for that my friend.  I am well enough for now and my meditations later should see to whatever small pains I still have.  Do not concern yourself with me.”  Looking around for where the young lady placed her blanket and not seeing any she asked, “Were you not given a blanket as we cleared the duergar’s rooms.  I thought we had found at least one for each of you.”

         “Oh yes, I was given one milady,” answered Sister Shonda.  “But there was another more in need of it than I.  I shall be alright.  The day is fast approaching.  Will we not be on our way again?”

         “Not as soon as that.  My friends and I need to recover from our battles and all of you also need the chance to recover some of your strength.   And, I think, with the numbers that we need to move, it will be better to travel at night.  I’ll need to talk that over with the others when they waken, but there is no way that I can see that we will be leaving here before midafternoon at the earliest.  So we need to find you a blanket and then you need to rest.  Come with me please,” she added as she moved back towards her companion’s resting place.  Searching through her own pack she pulled out her bedroll and unwrapped it, grabbing one of the blankets she handed it to the cleric.  “Here, borrow this for now.  And no giving it away.  I fear that we are going to be relying on everyone with the gifts of healing to get these people safely home.  You must take care of yourself if you are going to be able to help with that as we travel.  We have a journey of several days ahead of us and I’m not sure how swiftly your compatriots will be able to walk.”  Atalaya laid the blanket around the priestess’ shoulders and took her arm to lead her back towards the side of the camp where the other women lay, her eyes ever searching along the camp’s perimeter as they walked.  The sounds of insects and the nocturnal rustlings of small creatures were heard, recognized and dismissed by the young ranger.

         “Are there any other healers among you?  Is the other priestess also a healer?” asked Atalaya as they walked. 

         “Well, all of us who are priestesses of Chauntea have at least a little healing.  I, maybe more than most, as that is what drew me to this life.  Sister Jeminah can heal a little, but her focus has always been on growing things and the harvest.  She has a real gift for it.  I suspect it will be needed when we return to Julkoun?” she queried.  “I saw flames outside the town when we were led off.”

         Atalaya sighed, “I am afraid so.  We really didn’t have time to search all the outlying areas.  But there was a lot of fire damage outside of the main western entrance to your town.”  After a moment she added, “I had hoped that there would be some more healers among you.” 

         “Well, there is Flamerule.  She is a midwife and knows many of the herbal remedies.  I do not think that she is a ‘healer’ in the sense that the goddess grants her healing power, but she is a very good medic.”

         Atalaya’s smile grew as she listened to Sister Shonda.  “A midwife.  That is good.  I shall have to speak with her tomorrow.  My mother is also a midwife.” 

“Will you be alright now?” she asked as they approached an open spot near the others. 

         “I will be fine,” replied Sister Shonda.  “Chauntea will see to that.”

         “Very well.  Sleep well friend.  I’ll see you after you have restored yourself.  Sleep and be at peace.  We are keeping watch and will not let any more harm come to you if it is within our abilities to do so.”  Atalaya gently pushed on Sister Shonda’s shoulders, encouraging her to seat herself, and then watching over her until she had lain down and rolled herself into the blanket, her head resting on her arm, her knees pulled up to bring her feet into the warmth of the blanket. 

         Soundlessly Atalaya moved away, letting the priestess find her way into a healing sleep.  Restlessly, her eyes roamed the edges of the clearing again.  Looking for any signs of trouble.  Seeing and hearing nothing but the normal nighttime sounds of insects and the occasional owl, she turned her steps towards the resting bodies of the villagers.  The men seemed to have grouped themselves into several smaller groups, one mostly made up of halflings, the others were more difficult to categorize, perhaps, she thought, they had been friends or acquaintances before this?  

         As she approached one group of sleeping men she realized that her passage was being watched.  Looking again she realized that the eyes following her were those of the man who had thrown the bucket of piss at his duergar captor.  Making a gesturing motion, Atalaya beckoned him to join her.  Searching her eyes, he nodded and rose from his pallet, grabbing a dwarven short sword as he stood and placing it carefully through a loop of vines he had fashioned around his waist.  Leaning over he shook the shoulder of the man lying nearby and whispered into his ear.  Atalaya continued to watch as a swarthy skinned, deadly looking young man sat up, placing his short sword across his lap as his eyes began scanning the camp and then the edges of the forest.  The bucket thrower then stepped carefully around the sleeping men as he made his way to Atalaya, walking beside her as she continued circling the camp.

         “You are called Atalaya, right?” he asked softly.  “I want to thank you again for finding and freeing us.  I am James of Waterdeep,” he added as he searched her face.  “We had been praying for rescue since we were first taken.  Each day that passed seemed to make that less likely.  And we were getting weaker and weaker.  Once a worker became too weak to dig they were taken away and we didn’t see them again.  I expect we never will,” he added sadly.  “My wife was one who was taken away.  I still can’t let myself think about what that really means.  I begged them to let her stay with me, that I would care for her until she could work again, but those swine just laughed at me as they threw me head first into my cell.  And then they dragged her off.  My beautiful Orla.”  He walked a few steps before adding, “No, I won’t be seeing her again.  I will never forget what they have done to us.  To her.  They are going to pay,” he added, his voice growing deadly as his eyes hardened.   He stopped, took a deep breath and then seemed to deflate.  “I’m sorry.  Did you need something from me?”

         Atalaya, laid her hand on his forearm.  “I’m sorry for your loss, James.  I agree, you most likely will not see her again.  I found…” Atalaya’s voice died away and she suddenly couldn’t meet James’ eyes.  “I’m sorry,” she repeated.  “We got there as soon as we were able to.  Unfortunately, this was the second place we searched for you.”

         “We are simply glad that you found us.  In a few more days, I fear that there would have been far fewer for you to find.  The work was hard and the food and rest very … say we say … they were very limited.”

         Atalaya nodded.  Her eyes still roaming along the edges of the camp and into shadows as they walked the perimeter.  After a few moments she gazed at him.  “I see you have set up a watch of your own.”  When James nodded she added, “Was that your idea?”  James nodded again. 

         “We sort of got used to taking care of ourselves as best we could.  Somehow or another Harlan and I seemed to find ourselves watching out for the others.” James’ eyes could also be seen scanning along the edges of the camp, though most often they rested on the other villagers.  “He is a shipwright and not from Julkoun.  I believe that he was taken from around Waterdeep or maybe Salt Marsh.  He was brought into the mine within the last week.  I believe he spent some time as a sailor before becoming a shipwright. He knows how to use that sword and the axe he was given.  One of the few of us who do.”

         “And you?  Do you know how to use them?” asked Atalaya.

         “I do.  I was in the town guard.  It’s why they look to me for help and are willing to do what I ask of them.”

         Atalaya smiled to herself.  She had picked well.  “It’s going to be a long trip to get everyone back to Julkoun.  Are you willing to help us get all of you there?” 

         James turned and looked directly at the ranger standing next to him.  Her bow was hanging across her back, her hand rested on the gleaming hilt of her longsword.  James took in the calm assurance that Atalaya was radiating, remembered the competence of her companions as they fought the final duergars as they freed the Julkounians and nodded his head.  “I will do whatever I can to help bring my people home.”  After a moment or two he added, “Do we have a home to return to?”

         “You do.  It is in a sad state of repair, but most of the buildings are still standing.  The insides have been ransacked though.  The pub is still usable, the mill seemed to be mostly undamaged.”  After a pause she added, “The buildings outside the edge of town to the west are mostly burned.  The goblins built a palisade around the town and we burned the gates as we left the first time, but they were rebuilt by the time we returned to finish removing the vermin from the town.  I actually don’t remember exactly how we left them that time, but you should be able to rebuild those without too much trouble.  I would suggest that you leave the walls up for now.  I’m not sure what is going on around here, but all the reports we have gotten as we have been searching for you have mentioned a significant increase in raids all around this area.  Orcs, goblins, gnolls and now we know that there are duergar involved in all of this.  Even the Red Wizards have been implicated.”

         James’ eyes widened with the mention of the Red Wizards.  “Are you sure about that?”

         “I have heard that from so many different sources at this point that I am forced to believe it.”

         They walked silently for a few minutes.  Finally James stopped and turned towards Atalaya.  “What do you want me to do?”

         “I’ve been thinking about how to get us all back to Julkoun.  If there is trouble, twenty-one is too large of a group to move quickly, and it is too easy for everyone to end up dead.  Are there some others that you trust to keep their heads and to be able to look after people put into their care?  Who knows a little about using a weapon?  It seems that you trust Harlan.  Any others?”

         James walked next to Atalaya deep in thought.  His eyes focused inward rather than on the camp for the first time since joining Atalaya.  Her eyes continued their relentless sweeping of the camp and forest, always looking for something that did not belong, while listening for either a noise that didn’t belong or the stopping of the normal night sounds.  But, at least for the moment, everything seemed quiet, normal.  She waited while James thought. 

         After a few moments he answered her.  “Besides Harlan, there are only two others that were making a living with weapons.  Malik had just recently joined the guard when we were taken.  He is young, but well known in the town.  In time he will be a fine swordsman.  The other is Barduff of Blue Haven.  He was one of the mercenary guards of Chou Feng.  He killed a lot of goblins and orcs before he was overwhelmed trying to protect Chou Feng.  But the townspeople are afraid of him and do not trust him.  I’m not sure that anyone would follow him.”  After a few more moments he added, “Darvin was a shopkeeper.  He has taken more than one blow meant for one of the women.  He was close to the mayor also.  I think that people will listen to him, but as far as I know he has no arms training.  I’m not sure if he ever did any hunting. Perhaps he could use a bow or crossbow, but you would have to ask him.  Among the halflings, Bogo Boffin was a hunter and trapper.  He is good with weapons and can move through the woods with relative ease.  I know that the other halflings and not a few of the others would readily follow him.”

         “Make him one of your deputies then,” Atalaya said.  Divide the people into two groups.  You take charge of one of them, and Bogo the other.  Then divide the groups again.  Put Harlan in charge of one, Jekk, (he is the dwarf we found as we were leaving) in charge of another. Put Malik into that group.  He can help interface with the villagers.   Let Barduff be in charge of another group, be sure that Chou Feng and Diero are in that group.  Perhaps one of the clerics would also be a good choice for his group.  That leaves one of the small groups without a leader.  Are there any other halflings perhaps that could lead a group?”

         Thinking on that for a moment, James stated, “Perhaps Perigrin.  He is Bogo’s brother.  He is a little older than Bogo, but he’s still spry enough and stronger than he looks.  When he was younger he often hunted the woods with his brother.  He gave that up as he became more interested in tanning the hides his brother brought in and turning them into armor for the guard and other leather goods for those in Julkoun. But he still occasionally goes out with Bogo.  People will trust him and he works well with his brother.”

         Atalaya thought for a moment.  “Okay then.  Here’s what you do.  You and Bogo will each look out for half the group.  You will be responsible for Barduf’s and Harlan’s groups.  Bogo can take charge for Perigrin’s and Jekk’s group.  Divide the people as evenly as possible between the groups but be sure that one of the clerics is in one of your groups and that the other is in Bogo’s.  I or one of my group will keep you informed and then you and Bogo can pass on what needs to be done, especially if we get attacked.  If anyone gets hurt or can’t keep up, you need to let me know.  Find out if anyone else has any useful skills.  More hunters and trackers would be especially helpful.  Don’t forget to ask the women.  I also want to know who, if anyone, besides the clerics and Flamerule know anything about healing either by normal herbs and other physical means and if anyone has any actual healing abilities.  I would really like to find one more healer to put into the fourth group.”

         Looking James directly in his eyes for the next couple moments she asked, “Do you think that you can do this?  Are you willing to do this?”  After a moment she added, “If you don’t think that you can I will ask Harlan or Bogo.  You don’t have to.”

         Taking a deep breath James stood up even straighter than before.  “You know, I was just a guardsman.  Not a captain.”  Then meeting Atalaya’s eyes, “Yes.  I can do this.  For my town.  And for Orla.  I will do this.”

         Atalaya grasped his forearm in a warrior’s grasp.  “We will get you home.  I can’t say how long it will take.   We can only go as quickly as the slowest of your people. But we will get you home.”  After a moment she added, “Macterah the dragonborn, Tifinin and I all have a few healing skills if they are needed.”

         “Dawn approaches.  You need to get some rest so that you will be ready to organize your people when they waken.  Once Ivar comes out of trance I will rest and trance myself. I’ll let Ivar know that he can call on you if there is trouble.   I pray that there is none, but now we are prepared.  Unless there is trouble, I will be in a trance for four hours and it will probably be about another hour before Ivar relieves me.  Take the time to rest yourself.  We need you to be healthy and strong.”

         “May I ask you a question before I head back?” James asked hesitantly.

         “Of course.  Ask whatever you want.  Especially if you are unsure about anything I have asked you to do.”

         “Why?  Why did you come after us?” James queried

“That’s an easy question to answer.  We came because Tif wanted us to help you.  And because it was the right thing to do,” she answered with a wide smile.  Then turning serious she added, “We came because we knew that we were able to help.  It places a burden on us.  One that we can’t ignore and still be true to ourselves.”

“And once we get to Julkoun, what happens then?”

“Then you and your townsmen that had fled to Riverport will need to rebuild your homes and your lives.  The town is yours.  You will have to defend it and keep yourselves safe.  We can start you on your way, but we can’t remain.  We hope that the others will be in Julkoun by the time we get you there.  We’ve given them weapons and they, well at least some of them, have been getting training on how to use them.  Sir Isteval and his friend Kelson have been teaching them to defend themselves and are helping them reach Julkoun.  There has also been a priest of Tymora that has been helping them.  His name is Curran.  I don’t know whether or not he will come to Julkoun with the others.” 

“There are other survivors???”   James looked overwhelmed by that news.  “We thought that we were the last of the town.  Other’s survived?  They got away? Who? How many?”

“I’m sorry.  I don’t know the answer to that.  When they wake, you can ask Vasilya and Tifinin.  They were the ones involved with the refugees at Riverport.”

“I will.  Oh, I most certainly will.  I can’t believe this.  There are more of us.  Oh thank you.  Thank you for this news.  You don’t know what this will mean to the others.  We shall run all the way to Julkoun now.  Thank you.”

“May I in turn ask you a question?” wondered Atalaya.

“Of course.  For that good news I will answer anything I can.”

“Why are you called James of Waterdeep?  You speak of Julkoun as if it is your home and has been for a long time.”

“My parents came from there long ago.  The description just sort of stuck, even though it doesn’t really apply to me.  I was so young when we left.  Perhaps this venture will earn me a new name?  Does it matter?”

“No, of course not.  I just wondered.  That’s all.  Go, join your friends.  I’ll talk with you later once we decide on what happens next.”  Atalaya gave him a gentle push towards his resting place and then walked back to the fire and Vasilya. 

Vasilya seemed restless, his hand moved beside him searching for something and not finding it.  Atalaya eased herself to the ground next to him, once again lifting his head into her lap and catching his hand.  She brought it to her lips and gently kissed his palm and then rested it against her check.  Vasilya calmed, almost immediately and his breathing steadied. Soon he was once again deeply asleep.  Sighing, Atalaya slowly lowered his hand to his side and began her unconscious stroking of his hair as she once again searched the surroundings for anything out of place. 

The sky began lightening and she watched as a brilliantly vivid sunrise painted itself across the sky.  While much of it was obscured by the trees, wherever there was a bit visible it took her breath away.  As the sun rose higher she breathed a sigh of release.  It was finally going to be a rainless spring day.  The puffy white clouds drifted across a blue sky.  Breathing a silent thank you to Silvanus, she settled back into her watch, and waited for Ivar to awaken as the forest birds began their chorus to greet the new day.