Chapter 70
As the echo from Figaro’s bellow fades into silence, Illren enters the room with a beaming smile on his face. “Figaro! You seem more well! Nothing makes my heart sing more than this news!
The tiefling turns to glare at the acting first mate, “You are not who you say you are.” Illren opens his hands in a non-threatening manner and silently gives a confused look.
“Drop the disguise.”
“I know not what you speak of. It is I, your companion and friend. Many trials we have faced together, fought and lived through battles.”
Figaro turns to Kycera, sitting next to him on the bedside, “He’s a monster!”
The orc turns a threatening scowl towards the Giff and in a hoarse whisper, “Illren, what have you been doing?”
“To keep us safe, everything I can! I’ve been the main stick of this ship, keeping everyone alive! You know not what you speak of, your illness affects your mind.”
Gven quietly slides one of her daggers into a hand, ready for combat in the close quarters of the state room, if necessary.
Kycera moves to stand up, “I think we better step outside. Figaro needs to rest, for real.”
Bilwin moves his hands slightly, keeping them close to his waist and out of sight from Illren. “Come now, my friendly sailor. We know something’s going on, and you know we know, so you also know we’re going to find out, one way or another. I suggest you reveal the truth of what you’re doing on this ship with the crew. We need to know the something that you know.”
Illren grimaces in pain, at first it seems mild, then it grows and his face turns into a visage of torture as he fights the compulsion to reveal his secret. His body shimmers and morphs into another shape, with a similar height and size. The massive beast is frog-like and stands on its hind legs, in humanoid fashion. Horns run from the center of its forehead, across the top of its head, and down its back, each one extending five to ten inches out from its skin. More horns are visible along its shoulders, like built-in paldrons, with smaller ones running down its upper arms. The arms extend to the ground, even with it standing vertical, and the three large fingers on each end in deadly sharp claws.
Illren roars in defiance and rushes from the room, knocking Bilwin out of the way and heading towards the stairs.
Gven turns to Kycera, “It’s your ship, what do you want us to do?”
The orc responds in a low growl, “Get that fucker!”
At the fastest speed she can manage through the narrow halls and steep stairs of the Lambent Zenith, Gven dashes after the beast formerly known as Illren. She makes it back through the mess deck and two flights of stairs to the top deck, where she sees the creature standing close to the main mast. The barbarian invokes her rage while the creature appears confused about what to do next. It looks around, searching for its escape when it notices the half-orc on deck.
“I will feed!”
It rushes Gven, slashing at her face with the lengthy claws on one hand, narrowly missing as she twists to her side and backwards. She doesn’t have time to avoid the other hand and the sharp claws slip through the open front of her coat, cutting into flesh through her shirt. Before she can recover from the successful attack, it pulls close and bites her neck, the sharp teeth puncturing her skin. Within seconds, both of Gven’s wounds begin to show signs of decay and withering flesh.
Feeling the necrotic wound on her neck, “What sort of bastardly beast are you?”
Bilwin appears at the top of the stairs in time to hear Gven’s curse and see the creature pull away from its bite. An ornate beer stein suddenly appears floating next to the cleric and swiftly flies to within a few feet of the creature. The beast stares at the hovering mug in confusion, then a powerful force smacks it along its shoulder and it grunts in pain.
The half-orc grabs a healing potion from her belt and swigs it, immediately feeling some of her strength returning and her wounds smooth over, leaving the congealed blood on her skin. Tucking the dagger into her belt, she draws Tempest Edge from its sheath across her back. The creature’s bulbous head moves quickly, evading the greatsword’s first swing. Baring her tusks and gritting her teeth, the half-orc deftly reverses the blade’s direction and catches the beast by surprise, slicing through the upper portion of its leg.
A moment later, Grindlefoot emerges from below to the top deck and sees Gven injured and standing alone against the creature. The druid mutters a few healing words and the barbarian feels another surge of strength return. A second later, without much concious effort, the halfling Wild Shapes into a giant wolf spider and moves to the side of the deck.
Mond reaches the top deck immediately behind the halfling and steps to the side of the doorway, allowing those behind him freedom to join the fight. The sorcerer raises both hands to waist level and a bolt of lightning arcs toward their enemy. The pink lightning reaches its chest and turns wild circles around its torso for several seconds. It screams out in agony.
Standing next to Illren’s beast, Gven notices that some of the wounds she and the others have inflicted are healing on their own. Under her breath, “What the hell’s next? This damned thing can heal itself too!”
It’s difficult to read any intent or emotion in the amphibious eyes, but the half-orc is close enough to think that she sees the glimmer of a deadly smile in them. One webbed hand turns upright and a spark appears, floating just above its palm. It tosses the small ball of fire over Gven’s head so that it lands between her, Mond, and Bilwin.
Fortunately, Mond saw the small spark at the same time as Gven and is able to counter the spell. Bilwin watches the small spark travel over the barbarian’s head, growing in size as it begins its descent to the deck. Just as its about to touch the wooden decking and explode into a fiery mess, it dissolves with a puff of smoke. The creature roars in anger at the thwarted attack.
Dolor exits the door from the lower decks and sees the spark of fire go poof. The warlock quickly realizes they’re under magical attack and hurls three beams of light at the beast in quick succession. From the teifling’s position by the door he has an obscured view of Illren; Gven is up close in melee combat and the others are dispersed around the deck. The first two beams slam into its muscular body, the crackling energy briefly sizzling its flesh. The final attack goes slightly wide, missing the beast—and Dolor’s companions, thankfully.
Bilwin moves along the deck rail to gain a clear shot and releases a bolt of light that shocks his companions with its intensity. The cleric has cast this spell dozens of times and never before has it been so bright or intense. The mass of energy slams into the creature, pushing it backwards several feet, sliding across the deck. The amphibious body is covered in charred skin and the creature screams out in anguish and anger. A few seconds later, Bilwin sees portions of the skin smooth over from some sort of natural healing ability.
Seizing the opportunity, Gven lunges at Illren, stabbing it through one of its legs. It recoils in pain and narrowly evades her follow up attack, a slash at its arm. The barbarian snarls at the beast, cracking the dried blood on her cheek from its earlier attack—thankfully healed by Grindlefoot.
From a siderail, Grindlefoot—in the body of the large spider—shoots webbing at the beast, attempting to ensnare and restrain it. Illren dodges the silk trap and then sees the spider scurry over the railing, out of sight on the outside of the hull.
Mond looks to the creature and focuses his mind into a force of dominance. With as much mental force as he can muster, the sorcerer sends the telepathic message, “Stop attacking.”
All of the companions hear the creature’s telepathic response, “Your arcane tricks do not work on me, sorcerer.” Enraged at being hurt so badly by the dwarven cleric’s guiding bolt, Illren roars in defiance. A spark appears in its hand and he tosses a tiny bit of fire so that it arcs to land in the companions’ midst. And once again, Mond dissipates the fireball, turning it into nothing but a puff of smoke.
Before the beast can react, Dolor slings three more light beams at it. The first one barely misses, sliding between its arm and torso, but the other two slam into its body with enough force to drop it to its knees, if only for a moment.
Taking advantage of its vulnerable position, Bilwin rushes with his battle axe held high. The momentum from his advance adds to the force of the blade cutting through Illren’s shoulder, easily slicing through tendons and muscle. The floating beer stein moves in the air next to the cleric. As soon as the dwarf pulls his axe away, the stein smacks itself up against back of the creature’s head. The beast looks to the side, wondering what attacked him, and swipes at the stein with little effort, missing it completely.
The creature is obviously hurt and close to the end of its ability to fight, but Gven has been in this situation before and knows not to underestimate a cornered opponent. With the expert skill from years of training and experience, she deftly slices through one of Illren’s forearms, severing its hand.
From the outside hull, Grindelfoot—in spider form—suddenly climbs over the railing and launches himself at the suffering creature. The large spider bites Illren on his shoulder blade, drawing blood and poisoning the frog-like beast. It claws at the spider, trying to gain a hold, but Grindlefoot is too fast and pulls away.
Mond moves closer towards the beast and a toxic mist emits from his extended hand, spraying the beast in the face. It drops to its knees, the pain obvious in its face from the poison quickly spreading through its body. Within seconds, its eyes gloss over and its corpse falls to the deck.
“Damnit, I wanted to question it, not kill it!”
Bilwin deadpans, “Maybe next time don’t use something so deadly, like, um, poison?”
Figaro and Kycera emerge from below deck and take in the scene before them. The real first mate is still shaking from his experience, being under the monster’s complete control for months, and walks slowly over to its corpse. Standing over its head, the exhausted tiefling looks down silently at the bulbous body for a solid minute, lost in his thoughts. As Kycera crosses the deck to join him, he begins kicking Illren’s body over and over. His pent up anger comes out in a flurry of lashes and stomps that have little affect on the beast.
Kycera reaches him and rests a hand on his shoulder, “What was that?”
Figaro stills his attack, “It’s a slaad. They feed on fear. Illren called those cloakers to the ship to make us afraid, so he could feed. I caught him shape shifting one day and that’s when he started messing with my head.” He looks up to Kycera, “You have no idea what it’s like to forget what you know, to doubt your own thoughts and memories. To see one thing and question it’s reality. It’s terrifying.”
He turns to the companions and bows his head, “You have my gratitude. Now, who are you and why are you here?”
Dolor tells the first mate an abridged version of their tale and the crew collaborates its veracity, at least to the best of their knowledge.
“I know what you speak of. The captain found a magical device that creates portals for traveling. It shortened our voyages, so much so that we began swimming in coin. The portals were safe,” his face takes on a look of guilt, “until they weren’t. It’s all my fault. I knew this area was dangerous, that we could get caught in something, but I didn’t say anything.”
Kycera gives him a harsh look, “That was stupid. You’re the first mate, it’s your responsibility to advise the captain and keep us afloat. Crew have died. Not to mention the bullshit that Illren put us through. I suppose you’ve been punished enough, but you need to tell the captain when we see her.”
The group has learned the secret of Figaro, that he knew about the dangers in this area of the Astral Sea but hid the information from the captain.
Dolor breaks the silence, “Speaking of the captain. Kycera told us about the magic item and the wards, but we don’t know how to circumvent their security. Can you help us?”
Figaro gives a stern look towards Kycera, “That was supposed to be top secret!” She shrugs, to which he rolls his eyes then continues, “Yes, the wards are invisible. Use a spell or some other means to reveal them in the state room below deck and in the study on the starboard section of the vessel.”
Mond leads Dolor and Bilwin to the lower deck and the state room. Peering around, Bilwin recalls that the link established to Vecna in the Neverdeath catacombs allows them to see invisible items. He relays that to the others and, not quite sure how he activates the ability, is able to see a glyph carved into the middle of the bed’s headboard. The dwarf points to it and Dolor acknowledges that he also sees the hidden sigil. The warlock casts Dispel Magic and it briefly flashes, removing the magical ward and making it visible to the regular eye.
“That’s one seal dealt with. On to the next,” and they return to the top deck to find Gven talking with Zastra and Lysan about flying.
“It’s not that difficult, really. You push off from the ground with as much force as you can and then think that you’re flying. If you think it, you can do it. That’s how physics in the Astral Sea work. You can get to the starboard section without having to deal with any of the beastly creatures on the ground.”
At that moment, Grindlefoot’s giant spider crawls over the railing and onto the deck from the exterior. As the last of his feet touch the deck, the druid shifts back into his native halfling form.
“I scouted around the ship and could see one of your patrols returning. There’s a definite sense of danger out there, but the patrol did not appear to be any worse for wear from their exploration. I wonder if those beasts were being drawn here by the slaad and now that it’s dead, they’re dispersing. Anyway, did I hear that we can fly? Let’s do that!”
Gven, who took the brunt of Illren’s attacks, suggests a short rest before moving onward and the others agree.
Feeling rested an hour later, the companions gather around the main mast and say their goodbyes to the crew. Kycera picks up Illren’s corpse, takes a few powerful steps to gain momentum, and slings it into the air where the lower gravity allows it to continue into the Astral Sea. Before anyone can comment, three short beams of light hurl from Dolor’s outstretched hands and explode the corpse into bits that spray every direction.
Zastra watches the effects of the blast, “I have seen many things. Few have made me want to vomit more.”
His sister, Lysan, responds, “What about that time in…” and he quickly cuts her off. “We do not talk about that.”
Openly for all to hear, Grindlefoot asks Gven to toss him into the air. “I think I might need some help getting up there. It’s awfully high.” Without straining, the half-orc picks up the halfing by the waist and pushes him gently towards the southeastern sky. They hear his voice from a distance, “Oh my, this is fun!”
As the group floats towards the starboard portion of the ship, Mond finds himself lost in thought. They’re in a plane of existence with unknown dangers surrounding them and, yet, he feels more calm than he’s felt in his long life. His mind and heart are filled with awe at the opportunity to be himself, to use his magic without fear of retribution or punishment. What freedom! Their eventual goal is to return to Eritz, but does he want to go back to living in fear? To living less than a full life? To hiding in the shadows, afraid of the consequences his truths could deliver? The sorcerer’s heart fills with the exhilaration of freedom, the excitement of opportunities, and the joy of being true to himself. The future is a distant worry, one gladly avoided today.
They approach the starboard portion of the ship and see a large tree growing out of the top deck. It’s lengthy root system is intertwined with the decking and ship, as though it’s growing within the vessel. The tree has extensive pink and red blossoms on its branches, the vibrant colors contrasting bluntly with the dull wood of the ship.
Across the deck from the tree is a hatchway that likely opens into the ship’s hold. It’s too dark to see what might be inside. Having trouble slowing himself, Grindlefoot aims for the hatch, hoping there’s something soft or squishy to dampen his landing.
The halfling hears a deep voice, “I’m …going …to …ask …you …to …stop …where …you …are …right …now.”
“Um, okay. I’ll try.” Grindlefoot is able to slow himself down enough and shift his direction to land on the top deck, next to the hatchway. He lands with a loud thud and stumbles slightly before catching his balance to stand. Looking around, “Who’s there? Who said that?”
The tree rotates towards the halfing and a face appears in its side, with two large oval eyes, a wide mouth, and a large knot for a nose. In its deep, halting voice, “…They …call …me …Redbud.”
The halfling doesn’t appear the least bit surprised, “Lovely to meet you! You have such beautiful flowers.”
The others land close to Grindlefoot as Redbud makes his introduction and Dolor responds, “We’re coming from the prow of the ship, where Figaro and several other crew members are residing. Do you mind if I ask a few questions?” The sentient tree nods affirmatively and Dolor continues. “Who are you, part of the crew?”
In a cadence that resembles a metronome for each syllable, Redbud tells them his story. “…I …was …rescued …by …the …crew …in …a …time …of …need, …both …my …own …and …theirs. …Long …before …this …crash, …the …Lambent …Zenith …was …in …disrepair, …its …wooden …body …unable …to …withstand …the …pressures …of …the …demands …put …upon …it …by …the …crew. …I …grew …my …roots …into …and …throughout …the …vessel, …rebuilding …and …giving …it …strength …to …continue …its …journey. …I …was …able …to …do …the …same …for …myself …during …that …time, …healing …the …wounds …that …brought …me …here. …We …have …created …a …symbiotic …ecosystem …that …benefits …us …both, …although …only …one …of …us …knows …it. …I …am …more …than …a …crew …member, …I …am …the …soul …of …this …vessel.”
The companions take in the story and Dolor follows with, “Why did you ask us not to go into the hold through the open hatch?”
“…Ah, …because …of …the …parasites …below. …They …overwhelmed …this …part …of …the …ship, …except …for …my …friend, …Ikasa. …My …best …friend, …really. …Perhaps …my …only …friend.”
If a tree can appear sad, Redbud does so.
“…The …crew …succumbed …to …the …parasites …before …I …could …contain …them, …except …for …Ikasa. …Now, …only …we …two …live, …both …as …prisoners. …I …cannot …move, …nor …can …Ikasa. …To …protect …my …friend, …I …had …to …create …a …chamber …of …safey …by …enclosing …them …in …my …roots. …The …parasites …are …similarly …imprisoned …to …keep …them …from …causing …more …damage.”
Mond asks Redbud, “Can you tell us where the study is located? We’re helping Figaro and the crew undo this,” he waves his hands at the battered and broken ship around him, “situation and need to access it.”
“…The …study …resides …in …the …hold …and …I …cannot …allow …you …to …enter, …for …your …own …safety.”
Looking to his companions for agreement, Dolor offers their assistance. “If we clear out the parasites, will you allow us access to the study? We’ll also do our best to rescue Ikasa.”
“…You …would …do …that?” The sentinel tree appears contemplative for several moments.
“…Yes, …that …would …be …splendid. …Once …you …enter …the …hold …and …have …established …yourselves, …I …will …release …the …parasites. …You …have …my …gratitude …in …advance …for …helping …Ikasa.”
Grindlefoot asks, “Will we be able to discern Ikasa from the parasites? Not knowing their physical shape, we wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt your friend.”
“…You …will …know. …Ikasa …is …a …dog.”