#21 (Part One): Deliverance

With the Lurkwood behind us, unknown hills ahead, and open plains to either side, we make our preparations to seek out Griffon’s Nest.  Heeding Omgrath’s advice regarding the terrain and its inhabitants, we survey the serene landscape and decide which direction to attempt first.  Knowing that Griffon’s Nest lies somewhere to the south, but not sure whether it’s more to the east or west, we trek to the hills to see what we discover.

With the open plains ahead, Bonie and Elseba can cover a lot of ground and hopefully protect the group against any threats while we’re vulnerable.  We work out a few signs—caution, flee, come, and another for ready defense—and cautiously push ahead.  Several hours pass and the hills draw close.  Not wanting to risk the hills in the dark or potentially miss any signs, we decide to camp, creating a bonfire and setting watches.

In the middle of the night, we are awakened by sounds to the south, animal growls and cries, almost as if an animal is being slaughtered.  With no discernible threat, we sleep through the disturbance, and awaken in the morning.  After some deliberation, Bonie, Selben, Nazag and I head to the hills to find a vantage point—given the option of sacrificing time to get our bearings or leaving it to chance, we decide that any knowledge is worth the risk.  

We choose a hill and summit it easily, peering onto the horizon in both directions.  To the very extent of our vision to the east, we see signs of a river—to the west, nothing.  Though Nazag doesn’t have any knowledge to impart one way or another, we decide that the river is the correct decision, and return to the camp.

The river flows to the north, its origin somewhere in the hills.  The water is frigid, the river nearly 50 feet across.  Though it doesn’t flow rapidly, none of us relish the idea of crossing, so we stick to the river bank and begin our trek into the hills.  After some time, we come to an obvious crossing, and send Wyardt and Nazag to investigate the ford to look for prints or any other sign of creature passage.  They find humanoid footprints, as well as a disembodied stag’s head impaled on a pole at the far bank.  The tribesmen seem interested in investigating it to see if the origin is Anaithnid, and they attempt a crossing.

Nazag and Omgrath communicate across the river, apparently concluding that the far bank is the safer route—trusting in the tribe’s instinct, we make what preparations we can and assist the tribe’s crossing.  In the stag’s mouth, Nazag shows us a single white flower—what significance this has we’re not sure, but the tribe seems cautious but optimistic.  After a few minutes, and after the rest of the tribe has had a chance to investigate the signal, they begin a low chant, their spirits high—and we settle on the conclusion that we have made the right decision.

We press into the late afternoon, navigating the trail carefully.  There are a few dangerous ascents and ridges, but nothing to bar our passage, and as the sun sets we begin to search for a campsite.  We decide on a high ridge with good visibility to camp and begin our preparations.  Malar is with us this night as well, and we awaken well rested and ready for the journey ahead.

Our group travels into the late morning, and we reach a subtle but extended incline of a couple hundred yards.  In the distance, perhaps 100 yards, we see the rock wall begin to…move…and realize that there is a creature ahead.  More than twice the height of a man, it’s obvious that it has seen us, and it stoops to gather up large piles of rubble.

The tribesmen and Wyardt loose a volley of arrows, with one of them finding purchase.  It seems little more than a distraction, however, and it launches a boulder as Bonie fires an arrow of her own.  As Audric and I prepare spells, a boulder comes crashing into our midst and strikes Nurué.  No time can be spared for her as the tribe roars in opposition to the creature.  Some of the noncombatants rush to her aid against Selben’s cries to keep to cover—meanwhile, the archers loose more volleys.

As Audric begins to summon creatures to aid in our assault, I rush forward to draw its attention from the tribe.  I succeed in that much, at least, as a boulder crashes into me, nearly staggering me and disintegrating the magical defense provided by Audric.  Fortunately, my friend is not idle, as a gang of furious hobgoblins answer Mystra’s call and materialize around me.  Meanwhile, the archers are taking a deadly toll on the giant.

I take cover behind Audric’s conjurations as yet another volley of arrows flies overhead, and as I pass through the hobgoblins they begin to charge the giant.  One of the hobgoblins is brutalized by a boulder, and they meet the creature in a terrible melee.  The hobgoblins strike minor wounds against the giant while it works its way through the fearless creatures, annihilating one of them.  Audric tends to Nurué, saving her from death—as the battle rages more arrows fly, until the giant is finally felled by an arrow from Omgrath.

Before we have a chance to celebrate, however, Audric sends the hobgoblins ahead; almost immediately, they encounter something—or something encounters them—but we have little time to determine the nature of that encounter before we spot another giant, this one crossing the river towards us.  I pick up Nurué, and with Selben’s help, start to usher the noncombatants up the ascent and away from the second giant.

Ahead, we see three men brandishing arms, one of them with red hair that towers above the tallest among us…Kezia’s brother???  Before we have a chance to communicate, another boulder is launched at our group, this time striking Bonie in the shoulder.  In a testament to her strength it does not stagger her, and instead of taking cover she stands and looses an arrow at the giant, striking it in retaliation.  Another boulder strikes her before she can retreat, this one nearly driving her to her knees.

The red-haired warrior picks up Nurué as I gently place her upon the ground, Audric and I readying spells and arrows in Bonie’s defense.  She and Wyardt finally reach the top of the rise and we usher them ahead to safety, Selben and I bringing up the rear.  I owe a sacrifice to the Beastlord, for as we retreat a final boulder is hurled towards us, this one striking me—but only a glancing blow. 

After a few tense minutes of retreat, we eventually stop and take stock of the situation.  Eyadrin—the apparent leader, now confirmed to be Kezia’s brother, is informed that we left no one behind.  He seems shocked that our numbers are so low, and when informed of Kezia’s death by Omgrath and Nazag, he goes into a blind rage, striking at a wall of stone with his great two-handed sword.  He eventually calms, and after more explanation of the tribe’s situation, we even catch a glimmer of approval at mention of Crahdorn’s slaying.  Later, he stops to explain, “I am Eyadrin, brother of Kezia.  I know little of you yet, but from what little these men have told me, you are to be trusted and I owe you my gratitude.” 

We take an awkward moment to discuss transition of leadership of the tribe back to Eyadrin, and the warrior stops, unsheathing his sword.  “There is only one way.”  There’s a tense moment while I consider the ramifications of our decision to murder Crahdorn, but fortunately Eyadrin smiles, dissolving the tension.  “I will take over leadership of the tribe,” he says with an approving grin.

“Good,” I mutter, “because I was about to slit your throat.”  My humor is not ill spent, and it seems like Eyadrin is a man that I could soon call friend.  We are escorted into Griffon’s Nest, the tribe filtering seamlessly once again into their people, and for the first time in several hard days of travel, we are at peace.

Planning to spend a few days with the tribe recuperating and preparing for our departure, we spend a little time getting to know the residents of Griffon’s Nest.  Eventually we track down Eyadrin and discuss a few matters of business.  With no apparent need for them, I gift the salves from Yishma to Eyadrin and the tribe, in the case that the rotting disease rears its head again. 

Cautiously, I broach the subject of mortem disfidare with Eyadrin, asking if any other of the tribe share her gift.  The siblings share only one parent, their father, having grown up in Grunwald until adolescence—when their father died, superstitious barbarians tried to kill Kezia, as she had become associated with the idea of soul transference.  Kezia and Eyadrin aren’t native to the Anaithnid tribe; he ascended to its leadership by strength of arms and personality.

Eyadrin doesn’t share Kezia’s gift, and doesn’t know much about her extended family, which puts my search for more meaning behind the reading, the encounter with the original Kezia, or any of the Anaithnid Kezia’s curious comments to rest.  Our time with the Anaithnid, and our involvement with matters of the tribe, is now finished.