Chapter 68
The morning arrives to find the adventurers well rested and gathered in the sitting area down the hall from their rooms. Conversation is minimal, each pondering their surprisingly realistic and immsersive dreams from the night.
Grindlefoot recalls the spider weaving an intricate web that spans worlds; its filaments shoot off in every direction, seemingly without purpose. Yet, each gossamer strand represents a place the spider has been or will be. There is purpose in the network of gossamer silk. Just as the halfling’s journey has taken him across a continent and planes of existence, the spider’s web represents its complex journey. Unlike the halfling, a spider doesn’t worry about navigating its web, it trusts in its instincts. Nodding to himself, the druid takes comfort from his dream and embraces his journey, no longer worrying quite as much about what the future holds.
The barbarian’s dreams were dominated by her brother’s presence, or lack thereof. She knows herself, that she works best with straight lines, direct correlations between events and results, actions and consequences. Torp’s actions make no sense to the half-orc. They had the same experiences as children, lived in the same area during their formative years, received the love and support of their parents, but his choices are the antithesis of hers. In her dreams, she found herself navigating the rain-soaked back alleys of a noisy, chaotic town. Wet, cold, and hungry, she comes across a public house where she can see the warm hearth fires burning and hear jovial voices coming from inside. It becomes hazy and the half-orc is pushed back violently, “Your kind isn’t welcome here!” The hurt and fear is palpable, a gritty feeling that runs across her skin causing her to shiver in discomfort. Upon reflection, Gven understands that those weren’t her memories or even her subconscious fears. She wonders, whose were they?
Dolor rests quietly on a cushioned chair with gilded edging along its corners, replaying his own vision. He received an unexpected visitor, Fenseck, the Efreeti djinni who granted the tiefling his warlock powers in Aish’s temple on Amonah.
“How are things?”
“Nobody’s died yet.”
The elemental chuckles as they respond, “That’s a lie. You nor your friends have perished, but many around you have gone to meet their maker. Often at your own hands, be it by sword or spell.”
Dolor lowers his head in acquiesence to the statement. “That’s fair, but never at our initiation.” Returning his gaze to Fenseck, “What can you tell me about Vecna?”
For a brief moment, Fenseck visibly shutters, “I don’t subscribe to the notions of good and evil. Their meanings shift too quickly and too easily, depending on the judge’s perspective.” The djinni pauses and becomes still then looks into Dolor’s eyes with a seriousness unlike their other interactions. “Vecna is one of the most dangerous creatures in any plane of existence and he’s dedicated to following a path of destruction. Not just a single continent, planet, or even plane. He means to destroy everything and remake it in a way only he sees. I would not dream of standing against Vecna.” Their face returns to its normal mysterious grin, “But I wish you well on this path you’ve chosen. It shall be interesting to watch.”
Returning to the present and looking around at his companions, Dolor thinks to himself, “Interesting isn’t the word I would have chosen.”
Bilwin rests on a chaise lounge that’s slightly too tall for the dwarf, causing his booted feet to dangle above the floor. But that doesn’t seem to matter to the cleric, staring at the wall opposite his seat as though it’s a landscape miles away. Seeing his companions from years ago, fallen along the way as they pursued a piece of the Rod of Law, has stirred up more than just fragmented memories. Finally, he can remember each of his old companions clearly in his mind, yet not the reason for their quest. Nor can he remember why he abandoned it. More memories yield more questions than answers. Not the least of, why did he end up with this lot? In his dreams, one of his old friends, Brevin, a white-haired dwarf with a waist-length beard posed the same question. “So, why did ya?” Recovering from his trance-like state, Bilwin looks at the others and ponders the question.
A bedroom door opens and Mond enters the hallway, dressed in his travel clothes and looking refreshed. The last of the companions to wake, the half-elf approaches the others and nods good morning. With a smile, “A night without restless dreams is a gift to be appreciated.” The others look at him and then each other, wondering why the half-elf was spared.
The smell of bacon permeates the sitting area, followed shortly by Malaina’s silent entrance. “Are you ready to break your fast with us? There is coffee, freshly squeezed juice—natural, not magical—and plenty of scintillating choices for you to consider.” With the last statement, she winks at Gven.
The companions finish their morning meal, accompanied by Alustriel, Malaina, Tasha, and Mordenkainen, and then retrieve their weapons and packs from their rooms. A spectral hand, potentially the same one from yesterday, leads them to the same room where they exited the portal from the underdark. The archmages are waiting for them, standing in the center of the large room. Malaina rests on an elegantly crafted settee off to one side.
Alustriel looks to the group, “Are you prepared for your travels?” The companions all nod their heads in acknowledgement. “The Astral Plane awaits. Tread carefully as you pass through the portal, for it is unlike this world or most others.” To Mond, “Sorcerer, bring forth the first piece of the rod and think of the vision it showed you. Keep this in the forefront of your mind and it will guide the portal where you need to go.” With a gesture of both hands, the archmage brings forth a portal to Astral Plane.
Glowing a luminescent purple, the oval-shaped portal is large enough for Gven, the muscular half-orc, to easily walk through. Beyond the opening they see endless skies with cloudy wisps of white and gray floating amongst the distant stars. Mond steps through first, focusing his mind on the ship out of water, and his feet fail to land on a solid perch. He looks down to see nothing below his feet—he’s standing in the air—and walking no longer propels him forward. The half-elf uses his mind to move his body forward, thinking of the forward motion makes it so. The others follow Mond, each momentarily pausing to gain their sense of balance and position in this odd plane where gravity works differently.
Mond sees a gargantuan mass below him—the body of a long dead god—and realizes that’s where the ship can be found. He can sense it, even if he cannot see it. He tells his body to move that direction and it does so. The others follow, with Grindlefoot doing barrel rolls, because he can.
After several moments of gleeful fun, the halfling stops doing acrobatics and takes a careful look around. Slowly rotating, he takes in the vastness of the space around them, amazed at the magnitude of it all. He stops to focus on two small lights that seem to be moving. Watching them for several more seconds, he can tell that they’re getting larger. “Hey, look over there, I think two somethings are headed towards us.”
The companions stop their descent and turn to look where the halfling is pointing. It only takes a few seconds for them to realize he’s correct and that whatever they are, they’re moving fast. A few moments later, with her eagle eyesight, Gven can see two massive fish-like creatures swimming towards them. They have rows of long, sharp teeth protruding from their mouths and hanging in front of each ones face is an appendage that ends in a glowing orb, lighting up the sky around them.
“Ready yourselves. I don’t think they’re here to make friends.”
The barbarian invokes her rage, draws Tempest Edge, and wills herself to move towards the incoming beasts. It feels like floating, but with a sense of gravity that stabilizes her movements. She reaches the first giant fish and thrusts her glowing greatsword into its jaw, then pulls downward, slicing through its jawbone. It roars in pain and the sound feels odd, perhaps because they’re floating in the air.
A shadowy sword appears in Bilwin’s hand, he rears back his arm and throws it at the massive angler fish that Gven attacked. The dark sword flies true, plunging into the fish just above its pectoral fin. Another screech of agony escapes its mouth and it writhes in obvious pain.
In a matter of seconds, three beams of crackling energy fly from Dolor’s outstretched hands. The first two smash into the second creature and the third one goes wide, missing it by a few feet.
The first angler fish’s lure begins to glow and slowly pulse at the end of its front appendage. Gven sees the glowing orb and suddenly feels charmed, unsure why she or the others are fighting these amazing creatures. Moving closer to the barbarian, the fish chomps her thigh, slicing through her pants and flesh. The attack breaks the spell and Gven regains autonomy, allowing her to evade the follow up attacks.
As the barbarian moves away from the first angler fish, the second one’s lure begins to glow and she is once again enraptured. While the half-orc is incapacitated, the beast rushes at her with its mouth wide open and teeth bared. It barely catches her forearm, drawing a small amount of blood from the scratch. The attack breaks the enchantment and she takes a defensive stance, ready for the next strike, assuming she isn’t ensorcelled once again.
Attempting to distract the fish, Grindlefoot pulls a coin from his pocket and casts Daylight on it, then throws it at them. Unfortunately, the halfling failed to notice that they don’t have eyes and it doesn’t affect them.
From a distance, Mond points at the first angler fish and a bolt of fire erupts from his hand, striking it at the base of the front appendage. Blood spatters everywhere and the lure appears to be barely attached to its body.
Having escaped the enchantment and regained control of her body, Gven lashes out at the first angler fish with renewed ferocity. The first swing of Tempest Edge glides effortlessly through the underside of the beasts jawline, flaying the skin from the bone. Her second swing follows the return arc, aimed towards its belly and cleanly cuts through the soft, irridescent scales. Blood and no small amount of guts begin to ooze from the wound.
Bilwin moves backward, away from the attacking fish and their rows upon rows of deadly teeth. One of his hands raises slightly and a bolt of light shoots outward, slamming into the fish Gven is attacking.
Embracing his warlock powers, Dolor sends another beam of energy at the first fish, causing its flesh to sizzle from the force damage. In response, the angler’s lure lights up and charms Gven. The look of anger and revenge on her face turns to one of adoration. Sensing it’s outmatched and knowing it’s temporarily stunned one of its enemies, the beast turns tail and swims off to recoup its losses and save its own life.
In quick succession, two more rays of light shoot from the tiefling’s hand towards the remaining angler fish. They both connect with the beast’s midsection, leaving scorch marks.
Hurting badly but continuing to fight, the final fish opens its maw wide and swims for Gven. Even though the barbarian is currently enchanted—by its fleeing companion—it takes the beast three attempts to bite the half-orc, which cuts through the hem of her long coat and slices across her calf. She grimaces in pain at the cut, refusing to show any weakness with a scream or curse.
Grindlefoot sees Gven’s troubling position and decides to get closer to the action. He casts Shillelagh on his staff, imbuing it with nature’s power. The agile halfling moves quickly towards the massive fish, spins his body to one side, and with his momentum bludgeons the creature’s top side with his magicked staff. Again, it screams out in pain at the unexpected assault.
It worked well the first time, so Mond sends another streak of fire at the remaining angler fish. The bolt misses the creature by inches, sparing it another agonizing blow.
Fuming from having been charmed three times in the course of one battle, Gven stabs the beast with even more savagery than usual. Going for the underbelly, she embeds her greatsword into its flesh all the way to the hilt. Her face straining from the anger and physical effort, the barbarian pulls the sword free at an angle that opens the cut even wider; more blood and guts begin to fall from the wound.
“Not so charming now, are ya!”
Beside himself about being attacked for no reason, Bilwin sends another guiding bolt at the fleeing angler fish. The beam doesn’t hit the beast and the dwarf yells, “Come back here, you coward!”
The remaining angler fish is looking the worse for wear and moving slowly. Dolor flings a final eldritch blast towards the beast and hits it directly in the mildly glowing lure. The organic sphere pops like a pressurized ball, spewing blood and goo as the light goes dark and the beast dies.
The companions regroup and continue their descent to the land mass below. They see areas that are petrified bones of the long dead god, ribs that arch over some lower swamps and others that lie to the side of fields of dead grass. There’s an energetic crackling around them, as though the force of unseen lightning fills the air.
As they get closer, three large structures come into view. They’re separated by a short distance, but seem to be pieces of what used to be a whole ship.
Mond recognizes the pieces from his vision, “Those are pieces of the ship I saw.” Remembering the terms from his time aboard the Iron Vulture, “There’s the stern of the ship, the prow is over there, and that seems to be the starboard side.”
The companions land amongst the ship’s wreckage and, somewhat surprisingly, no one hurt themselves in the process. As soon as their feet touch ground, two humanoids approach cautiously. They’re as tall as Gven but slender, without the barbarian’s muscular build, and have pointed ears. One wears a blue overcoat with a pauldron over one shoulder. The other wears a red coat that falls slightly below their waistline and carries a greatsword across her back.
Pulling the greatsword from its sheath, “What brings you to the Lambent Zenith?”