Session 6

A messenger arrived from Lord Neverember requesting the “Heroes of Neverwinter” present themselves for an audience later that day. This was the first time they’d been summoned to appear before the lord like this, and both Brabara and Seknafret hoped it had something to do with the evidence they’d presented to Kevori a few days ago.

The message requested they arrive “ready for action”, so they donned armour, weapons, and equipment before heading to Castle Never.

An officious looking man met the group at the grand entrance to the audience chamber. Looking very much like he’d just tasted something sour as they drew near.

“I am Foskar,” the man said. “Lord Neverember’s Chamberlain. Is there something I can help you with?”

Brabara stepped up and held out the message. “We’ve been invited.”

Foskar took the sheet of paper and glanced down, eyes tracing the few lines of script. He coughed when he reached the end and looked up. “I see. Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting you to be, ah, this…”

“Fat?” Brabara offered.

Foskar’s eyes widened. “Oh, heavens no. I think martial is the word I was searching for.”

“The note did say we should come dressed for action,” Brabara said.

“Indeed it did,” agreed Foskar. “And you have. Now if you’d please follow me.”

Foskar turned and led them through the doors into the audience chamber and past a line of petitioners to stop directly before the lord himself.

Dagult Neverember rose from his ornate chair as Foskar proclaimed their names, clapping as each one was announced.

“Friends,” Dagult Neverember said addressing the gathered crowd. “These are the Heroes of Neverwinter, without their valiant efforts, all of us here might now be mindless undead, shuffling under the heel of Szass Tam and his Red Wizards.”

Lord Neverember paused, waiting for the rousing applause from the gathered officials and other petitioners to quiet.

“Your city needs you once more,” he continued. “Five of our most prominent citizens are missing, and I call upon your aid in finding them.”

Brabara, Seknafret, Ebyn, and Xalen all shifted uncomfortably, unused to being the centre of quite so much attention.

“What say you?” Lord Neverember said in a way that left no doubt as to the only possible answer.

Brabara looked at the eager faces of the people around her. She licked her lips, mouth suddenly very dry. “We are always ready to help the citizens of this proud city.”

“Excellent!” Lord Neverember said, accentuating the word with a loud clap. “Foskar, send the petitioners home, they can return on the morrow.”

The chamberlain bowed deeply and set about his task.

Lord Neverember sat on the ornate chair and waited until everyone except Foskar, and the four of them remained. As soon as the audience hall door closed with a loud clunk, he rose and walked to a long table in the wings of the hall, motioning for them to join him there.

“Sorry for all the pomp,” he began as they drew up around the table. “I know it’s not your style, but I need to put on a show for the people. I hope you understand.”

“Of course, my lord,” Brabara said.

Lord Neverember scratched at his chin for a moment. “Tell me, does your group have a name?”

Brabara cocked her head slightly. “A name, my lord?”

“A company name,” Lord Neverember explained. “Like Force Grey, or the Stormblades, you know, something I can refer to you as. I feel the Heroes of Neverwinter might come off as a tad pompous.”

Ebyn, Xalen, and Seknafret all shook their heads.

“Of course, sir,” Brabara said without a moment’s hesitation.

Seknafret raised an eyebrow. “We do?”

“We are 'The Succulent Juices', my lord,” Brabara finished, ignoring the other’s obvious confusion.

Foskar let out an involuntary gasp and quickly placed a hand to his mouth.

“The Succulent…” Lord Neverember began, then trailed off for a moment. “Yes, well, I won’t be calling you that. I think I’ll stick with Heroes of Neverwinter. Pompous or not it at least reminds the small folk who you work for.”

“Very good, my lord,” Brabara inclined her head. “Can you expand on why we are here?”

Lord Neverember tapped the table a few times before speaking. “As I said, five prominent citizens have gone missing over the past few days, and I would like you four to find them.”

“That part was clear, sir,” Brabara said. “But why us? Finding missing people isn’t something we have a lot of experience in.”

Dagult nodded. “I completely agree. I wouldn’t have called upon you at all, except one of the missing persons is Jerot Galgin.” He let that sink in for a moment. “I understand you are quite interested in talking to the man.”

“I, ah, that is to say, um, yes,” Brabara stammered. “Who are the other victims? And how long have they been missing?”

“First we have Jerot Galgin,” Lord Neverember began, reading from a piece of paper he had taken from under his coat. “His family hasn’t seen him in a week. Then we have Eldon Keyward, a scholar specialising in the outer planes, he was reported missing five days ago. Then Indrina Lamsensettle, a well-known thespian. She and Sarcelle Malinosh, a sorcerer, have been missing three days, and finally we have Umberto Noblin, a gnome historian. I understand he has been missing for two days.”

“Umberto Noblin?” Ebyn said.

“That’s what it says here,” Lord Neverember replied. “Do you know him?”

“I have met him,” Ebyn replied. “I spoke to him about his research only a few weeks ago. I can’t understand why anyone might want to target him.”

“The two women, Indrina and Sarcelle, both missing for three days. Were they taken together?” Seknafret asked. “Do they know each other?”

Dagult shrugged. “I am told that none of the individuals on this list were acquainted personally, but it is possible that their paths have crossed. You’d be surprised by how small the elite social scene here is.”

“A noble, an actor, two scholars, and a sorcerer,” Xalen said. “Seems an unusual combination of targets. There must be something that connects them.”

“Divinations undertaken in the House of Knowledge have yielded nothing to suggest a motive for these crimes, but they have given us a place to start looking.” Lord Neverember folded the paper up and slid it across the table to Brabara, “They determined that our missing people are somewhere near the Hallix Mausoleum in Neverdeath Graveyard. That note has all the details on how to get there.”

Brabara took up the paper and tucked it away. “Neverdeath isn’t a good place, especially at night.”

Lord Neverember smiled broadly. “Then I suggest you get going. While there still a few hours of daylight left.”

“Quite right, sir,” Brabara said, readying herself to leave. “We won’t let you down.”

The others started walking over to the large double doors, but Seknafret remained behind.

“Is there something else?” he asked.

“About Jerot Galgin,” she began. “Are we…”

Lord Neverember raised a hand, cutting her words short. “Bring my citizens home safe. Then we can discuss the evidence the watch captain presented regarding master Galgin. You have my word on that.”

“Very good, sir,” she said with a slight inclination of her head, then turned and followed the others out of the room.

---

“The Succulent Juices?” Xalen said once they’d left the lord’s castle.

Brabara shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“You don’t think this is something we should have talked about?” Ebyn said. “Agreed together as a group.”

Brabara stopped walking and turned to face the others. “Is that right?”

Ebyn’s expression darkened.

“You answered very quickly, Brabara,” Seknafret said, hoping to avoid a yelling match in the middle of a busy street.

Brabara nodded. “I’ve been mulling it over for a while,” she said.

“And you never thought to mention it?” Ebyn spat.

Brabara scratched at the back of her neck. “I did. But, since I wanted to avoid the very argument I feel might be coming right now, I decided not to say anything.”

Ebyn’s eyes widened. “Why choose that name?”

Brabara shrugged. “It’s a good name. It’s what every chef strives for. The key result of a well-cooked meal, and as you know, cooking, like adventuring, takes the best ingredients – us – and careful planning – our ideas – to deliver the best results.”

Ebyn blinked slowly, mouth opening and closing in stunned silence.

Seknafret chuckled. “Oh, Brabara. Why must everything with you end up as a reference to food?”

“Not just food,” Brabara replied with a wink. “I am also rather fond of sexual references.”

Xalen snorted. “I guess Succulent Juices works in that respect as well.”

Brabara clapped Xalen on the back so hard the elf staggered forward a step. “See! Xalen gets it.”

---

Neverdeath Graveyard got its name from the smattering of undead that prowl the cemetery’s multitude of tombstones and shrines. During the day, for the most part, the undead remain quiet, making the expanse of rolling hills safe to walk. At night it’s a different story. More than one hapless mourner has fallen victim to one type of ghoul or another and the city’s people have learned to give the place a wide berth after sunset.

“Why don’t the priests just get rid of them,” Ebyn asked having spotted a lone zombie standing idle in the shade of a leafy tree.

“It’s been tried,” Brabara explained. “Many times, but for some reason the undead that wake here are resistant to being turned.”

“How so?” Ebyn asked, his curiosity piqued.

Brabara shrugged. “Something to do with the Spellplague I think.”

“Spellplague?” Ebyn said.

“I forget that you’re not from around here,” Brabara said. “A big magical kerfuffle about a century ago. Messed up the way magic worked for a time, or so I am told.”

“Not just magic,” Seknafret added. “Other constructs were also impacted. My order first noticed the Veil starting to fail around that time.”

Ebyn scratched his head. “And this Spellplague has changed the undead here?”

“I don’t know how it works,” Brabara went on. “But for whatever reason, your buddy over by the tree there won’t get blown apart when a priest looks at him funny.”

“They occasionally hire adventuring bands to cull them,” Xalen added. “Every three to four years, depending on how quickly their numbers grow.”

Ebyn looked back over his shoulder at the zombie. “What a fascinating place,” he muttered.

Hallifax Mausoleum was located near the wall separating the Main Graveyard from the Pauper’s Graveyard. It was a flat stone structure, an unassuming granite block squatting in the shadow of larger monuments to the west and south. A set of rusted metal doors hung slightly ajar with a padlocked chain hanging loosely from one of the crossbeams.

Despite the rust, the metal door swung open soundlessly to reveal a dusty crypt with six stone coffins, three on each side, tucked into shelves on the walls either side of the door.

Tracks in the dust were clearly visible, leading from the entrance to a set of stairs going down.

The group crossed the room and started down the stairs. They descended perhaps twenty feet below ground, ending in a large subterranean chamber with stone coffins sitting on sturdy shelves. Part of the west wall had collapsed, creating an opening into another chamber. But their attention was immediately drawn to the five desiccated figures marching around the room.

The undead attacked without hesitation, launching at the group with slashing claws and rotting teeth. Despite their fury, the undead were no match for the four of them and were dispatched in short order.

The fight over, they moved through the hole created by the collapse, having to duck and weave to avoid roots from the trees above into the next chamber.

A stone stairway in the southeast corner of the room had collapsed, and the nearby walls crumbled. Three doors in the north wall were shut, but a new looking padlock hung from a lock in the middle of the three doors. To the west, a narrow set of stairs led up to a rusted metal balcony that overlooked the room from five feet above. A small door hung on the wall behind the balcony painted with a hand holding a single eye.

“I wasn’t expecting to see that down here,” Ebyn said, indicating the painted eye. “This mission has taken on a new aspect.”

Brabara shuddered. “Same. Can’t say I am all that pleased about it either.”

Xalen padded across to the door with the new padlock. He had his tools out and the lock open in seconds.

A short corridor extended beyond the padlocked door, ending in a small rectangular chamber with an open coffin resting atop a stone slab at its centre. Tattered blankets poked out above the lip of the coffin as well as a pouf of wild black hair.

Xalen held a finger to his lips. “Someone, or something, is in there,” he whispered.

Brabara pointed at the coffin and then mimicked a beating heart.

Xalen nodded and padded forward. He reached down and carefully peeled the blanket aside. A woman lay there, dark skinned, with thick black hair, matching the description of one of the kidnap victims.

Her chest rose and fell as she slept.

Xalen touched her lightly on the shoulder, when that didn’t elicit a response, he shook her gently.

The woman awoke with a start.

She gasped and sat up suddenly. “Who are you?” she demanded. “What do you want with me?”

Xalen held his hands up, palms out. “You’re Sarcelle Malinosh, right? We’re here to rescue you.”

Her eyes narrowed and she looked past the young rogue to eye the others hovering about the doorway. “How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

Xalen shrugged. “You don’t, I guess.” He moved back from the edge of the coffin to give her some space. “But you can either stay here and wait for the actual kidnappers to come get you, or you can take a punt and come with us.”

She considered that for a moment, then climbed out.

Her clothing was rumpled and a little soiled, but she didn’t have any obvious injuries.

“Are you hurt?” Seknafret said as the woman approached the exit to the chamber.

“No,” she said. “I’m fine, I’d really just like to get out of here.”

“We will escort you out,” Ebyn said. “But would you mind answering a few questions before we go?”

Sarcelle looked at Ebyn and gasped. “Oh my,” she managed, her complexion suddenly grey. “You’ve seen it too, haven’t you?”

Ebyn cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me? Seen what?”

“The bringer of ruin,” she said. “A desiccated figure floating at the centre of some kind of chamber gathering an evil energy about him in glowing wisps.”

What little colour Ebyn had, drained from his face. “How could you know this?”

“Because I have seen it too,” she shuddered. “And it cost me my magic.”

Seknafret’s eyes widened. “Your connection to the weave is gone? How could something like that happen?”

Sarcelle shrugged. “I don’t know how it happened, only that it has. I was returning from my latest interplanar expedition. Normally my transition between planes happens in an eyeblink, but this time my passage took longer, and as I travelled, I witnessed that scene.”

“A desiccated figure at the centre of some kind of terrible energy?” Ebyn said.

She nodded. “The figure looked at me, and I felt something inside of me rip apart. When I made it back home a heartbeat later, I was unhurt physically, but I have not been able to cast spells since.”

“Do you know who the figure is? Or where?” Ebyn pressed, heart pounding in his chest.

“I don’t, sorry,” Sarcelle said. “I have travelled the planes most of my adult life and I did not recognise that spot.”

“Where were you travelling from when it happened?” Seknafret asked.

“Arborea,” she said. “I was visiting a colleague of mine in Brightwater.”

“Does the name, Vecna, mean anything to you?” Ebyn said.

“I have heard it before, of course. Few who travel the planes would not.” Sarcelle sucked a breath. “Are you suggesting that was the figure I saw?”

“I believe it was,” Ebyn said.

“How did you know Ebyn had seen what you’d seen?” Xalen asked.

Sarcelle looked at Ebyn again. “I, um, just knew,” she said. “I can’t explain it.”

“Have you seen any of the others who were taken?” Brabara asked.

“Not since we were brought down here,” she said. “The four of us were held somewhere for a few hours before they brought us here, but I couldn’t tell you where that was. They kept us blindfolded and gagged only removing them just before throwing me in here.”

“Did you say there were four of you?” Brabara said. “Lord Neverember told us that five people had been taken.”

Sarcelle shrugged. “Maybe there’s one more somewhere. When I was herded down here there were only three others.”

Brabara frowned. “And you have no idea where we might find these other three?”

“I can’t help you, sorry.” She looked at each of them. “Now, can you please get me out of here?”

They took Sarcelle back through the few rooms of the catacombs and up the stairs to the mausoleum. As soon as Sarcelle realised where she was, she assured them she’d have no trouble making her way back home and headed off through the graveyard and into the city.

The group returned to the catacombs and resumed their search.

A second roughhewn passage, narrower than the one they’d come in through, exited the chamber where they’d spotted the unnerving symbol of the hand and the eye. It took them through to a large square chamber in the centre of which was a darkened pool of water.

Pipes with numerous valves crossed the room up near the ceiling, with another pipe forming a circle over the pool, several nozzles positioned around the circumference at regular intervals.

At the far end of the room, Xalen noticed a door with a shiny new padlock on it. “Looks like we have another of the prisoners in there,” he said and started making his way across the room.

Brabara moved to the edge of the pool, a torch held over her head and peered down. “Be careful,” she said as she backed away. “I think there may be things swimming in there.”

Xalen stuck to the wall, keeping as far from the water’s edge as he could, reaching the padlocked door in about a dozen paces. The lock, like the last one, proved simple for one with his experience and he soon had it open.

“Who’s out there?” a high-pitched voice called from beyond the door.

Xalen pulled the door open and looked around the small chamber. The floor was covered in about an inch of water leaving the dirty mattress sodden. A bespectacled gnome sat atop the mattress looking very sorry for himself.

“I already told you,” the gnome pleaded. “I’m not important, I don’t have any money, what do you want with me?”

“Umberto,” Xalen said. “We have come to get you out of here.”

The small man’s expression changed in an instant, from a look of forlorn pity to one of desperate hope. “A rescue?” he squeaked.

“Yes,” Xalen said. “But please keep your voice down.”

Umberto stood and followed Xalen back to the others who had returned to the symbol chamber. The gnome scholar frowned when he spotted Ebyn among them. “I know you, don’t I?” he said.

Ebyn nodded. “I visited you recently regarding your research into Vecna.”

“Yes, I remember now,” Umberto said, and let out a gasp. “How is it that you’re here now? Is this some kind of trick?”

Brabara raised her hands, no doubt trying to be reassuring. “Lord Neverember sent us to find you, and four other people who had been taken.”

Umberto’s eyes widened. “Lord Neverember knows who I am?”

“He does,” Brabara said. “And he sent us to rescue you.”

“I had no idea the Lord Protector held me in such esteem,” Umberto practically beamed. “But you are mistaken as to the numbers. I saw only four of us victims. Me, two human women, and an elf man. If there is a fifth, they must have been taken at a different time.”

“Do you have any idea why these kidnappers targeted you?” Ebyn asked.

Umberto shook his head. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. I’m not rich, nor particularly famous – though, now I realise that Lord Neverember knows me, perhaps I was mistaken in estimating my renown.”

“Any idea what they are planning to do with you?” Xalen said.

Umberto shrugged. “Beats me. Apart from leaving me in that terrible damp room they haven’t said boo to me since coming here.”

“And how long ago was that?” Brabara queried.

“Hard to say. A day? Maybe two?” Umberto considered it a moment longer. “They fed me twice, just simple fare of bread and water, if that helps you come to a conclusion.”

Brabara nodded. “It does, thanks.”

Umberto looked around and pointed at the hand and eye symbol painted on the door. “Though, now, seeing that, I wonder if maybe my research is what made me a target.”

“It is possible,” Ebyn mused. “One of the other victims had a vision of the whispered one not long prior to being taken. Perhaps all of you have come to the attention of a cult dedicated to his worship.”

Umberto’s eyes were like saucers. “A cult? Here? In Neverwinter? Fascinating.”

Brabara looked between Ebyn and Umberto. “We can debate motivations and exchange theories later. We need to get this little guy out of here while it’s still daylight outside.”

Once again, the group made their way back up to the surface and out into the Neverdeath graveyard. It was still daylight, but only just. In an hour, perhaps less, the sun will have dipped below the horizon.

“We can’t escort you back to your home, Umberto,” Brabara explained. “There are still two, maybe three, victims in there who need our help.”

“I understand,” Umberto said. “I should be safe to find my own way.”

Brabara gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow. “Good man.”

The gnome scholar glanced over at Ebyn. “When you are clear of all this, please look me up again. I’d be very interested in knowing what you learn down there.”

“Count on it,” Ebyn said.

The group watched the gnomish scholar walk away between the gravestones. A happy skip in his step, despite the trauma he’d just been freed from.

“It has become pretty clear that Jerot Galgin is not one of the victims in all this,” Seknafret said, as they headed back into the catacombs. “He is looking very much like being our perpetrator.”

“It does seem that way,” Brabara said. “I believe that you might’ve suffered the same fate as these most recent victims had you not managed to get away, Seknafret.”

She chuckled, ruefully. “Only in my case we wouldn’t have been on hand to facilitate a rescue. In fact, my being a newcomer to Neverwinter at the time would’ve made it unlikely that anyone would have noticed my absence.”

“Makes you wonder how many more people they’ve taken,” Xalen pointed out. “Could be there have been dozens of others before anyone realised.”

“You’re right,” Brabara said. “And now, with this Vecna connection, we also have a link to the disappearances that led to Delvin’s death a year ago.”

“This Galgin fellow would seem to be quite the criminal kingpin,” Xalen said. “Nobility clearly serves as better protection than even the guild can provide.”

They returned to the room with the symbol on the door.

“Through there, I suppose,” Xalen said and climbed the narrow metal stairs up to the door. It was locked, but he made short work of that, and soon the door stood open.

The room beyond was long and thin, with four leather cords affixed to the ceiling at the end of which hung bells of different sizes. A wooden mallet rested against a wall near the bells.

“What are those for?” Xalen asked.

Brabara shrugged. “No clue, but it’s probably best we don’t ring any of them.”

Xalen padded silently across the room to the door on the other side and tried it. “Not locked,” he mouthed.

Another set of metal stairs led down to a large room, lit by lanterns sitting atop a handful of tables dotted about the place. Water dripped from a pipe into a basin in the corner of the room, beneath a detailed image of a staring eye gripped in a withered hand. Four robed figures sat at one of the tables with a fifth standing nearby, berating the other four.

Xalen looked over his shoulder, placing a finger to his lips, and listened.

“I don’t care what your family names are, or who you work for,” the standing figure said, finger wagging at the four cultists seated at the table. “None of that matters down here. Here you show me respect.”

One of the four raised his eyes. “Listen, Oxtu, we’re sorry,” he said.

“What did you call me?” Oxtu raged. “What did I just say about respect? I am a Fang of Vecna, and you four are mere Teeth.”

The speaker bowed his head again. “Yes, Dread Fang.”

Oxtu glared at the seated cultists. “That’s better. Cross me again and you’ll end up like Tooth Raina.”

All four of them gasped and started shifting awkwardly in their seats.

“We’re sorry, Dread Fang,” another of the seated figures said. “It won’t happen again.”

Oxtu gave them all a baleful stare, then started walking toward the basin and Xalen was forced to jerk his head back to stay out of sight.

A loose piece of mortar broke free from one of the supports and clattered to the floor. Oxtu looked up and spotted Xalen as he moved.

“Intruders!” he yelled, pointing to where Xalen had been.

Ebyn sprinted to the doorway and hurled a fireball into the room just as the four cultists scrambled to rise from the table. The conflagration flashed brightly for a second, and when the flames cleared, two of them were dead. The others, who’d managed to roll away, were beating at the flames on their robes.

Xalen brought up his bow and descended the stairs, loosing arrows at the injured cultists with ruthless efficiency. The shafts struck deep, and both cultists stopped moving, their clothes still burning.

Brabara catapulted from the stairs to land beside Oxtu. Her glaive slashed down with frightening speed, and he too fell before he was able to raise a hand in his defence.

They waited, tense, in case the brief outcry had alerted other parts of the complex.

Xalen crossed to the nearest of the three other doors that exited the room, while Brabara moved to another. Seknafret and Ebyn came down the stairs and pushed open the third door. It led to a kitchen area that appeared empty.

Xalen listened at the door but heard nothing.

Brabara pushed open her door. A short passage led to a makeshift barracks. Two figures, a male and a female, lay sleeping in bunk beds set up along the wall to the right of the door. She crept forward, hoping for stealth, but kicked a bedpan and sent it clattering against a wall.

Both figures stirred.

Brabara launched forward and punched the man in the face with a meaty fist, then tried to grapple the other.

The woman screamed and uttered an arcane word. Her body dissolved to mist, only to reappear, a heartbeat later, in the opposite corner of the room. She offered Brabara a hate filled stare then pushed open a hidden door and scuttled inside.

“There are two more in here,” Brabara called. “One is getting away.”

Xalen sprinted into the room where Brabara now fought against the man she’d punched. He spotted the hidden door and darted through the short passage into another bedroom, this one more luxuriously appointed than the barracks he’d just left.

Inside were three figures. A woman dressed in bed clothes, a tall man in robes, and a monstrous creature, with long talons and a reptilian head. A single great eye at its centre.

The eye fixed on him, and Xalen’s exposed flesh darkened as the necrotic energy consumed it.

Three on one. Xalen didn’t fancy those odds, so he backed out of the room. “There’s two cultists in there, and some kind of gross lizard thing.”

Brabara snapped the neck of the man she fought and headed into the room Xalen just fled.

The robed man pointed a finger at Brabara as she entered. A burst of dark energy flew from his hand to strike Brabara in the chest. “First the mother, then the daughter,” he said with a chuckle. “How poetic.”

The woman followed his attack with a bolt of her own. But the gout of flame flew wide and struck the wall beside Brabara’s head.

Ebyn and Seknafret followed their companions into the barracks but could do little with Brabara blocking the narrow passage to the next room.

“How many are in there,” Ebyn asked.

“Three,” Xalen said. “Two humans and a monster of some kind.”

Ebyn nodded and positioned himself so he could see into the room. He rolled a sliver of sulphur in a tiny ball of bat guano and sent a bead of light into the room where it exploded in another fireball.

The heat from the blast seared Brabara’s eyebrows but spared her any serious injury. The woman, however, was not so lucky. She fell amid a charred pile of what remained of her clothing.

The man’s smile became a grimace. He wove his arms about to create a glowing ripple in the air behind him, then stepped through it and disappeared, leaving the one-eyed monster behind to fight Brabara.

The male cultist appeared back in the mess hall at the top of the stairs. Seknafret spotted him from the barracks door and struck him with her eldritch blasts. The man’s eyes widened when he saw who’d attacked him. “You!” he spat.

Seknafret recognised him too. Though they’d never spoken, she’d seen him lurking around the edges of more than one noble’s dinner when she’d first arrived in Neverwinter. She might not have known his name back then, but she certainly knew it now.

Jerot Galgin.

“Galgin’s out here,” Seknafret called.

Xalen ducked into the mess area and raised his bow, hands ablur. Two arrows flew toward the hated nobleman, one taking him in the shoulder but the second missed.

Brabara used her glaive to good effect to dispatch the strange one-eyed beast but couldn’t get back into the room where Jerot Galgin stood.

Galgin pointed again, and a sphere of negative energy rippled out from a spot by the door engulfing everyone in the barracks and the room beyond. The necromantic burst sucked life from everyone but Ebyn, who’s time in the Shadowfell allowed him to resist the worst of Galgin’s foul magic.

Ebyn stepped out of the room, a glowing vial in his hand. He spoke a series of arcane words, and a twisting pattern of colours weaved through the air around Jerot Galgin’s head leaving the man in a dazed stupor at the top of the stairs.

“Restrain him but be careful not to hurt him,” Ebyn said. “Even the slightest wound will wake him.”

Brabara took a set of manacles from her pack and had to resist the urge to beat Jerot Galgin to a bloody pulp while she secured his arms behind his back. This man had engineered every terrible thing that had happened in her life, and he was now completely at her mercy. One twist of his head and he would be dead.

Vengeance, for Tiny, for her mother, was just an impulse away.

Then she remembered Tiny’s words, “It’s gotta be done right”, and all her violent thoughts melted away.

“What do we do with him?” Xalen asked. “Do we question him now?”

Brabara shook her head. “There are still two more hostages. We need to focus on finding them and getting them out safe.”

“And him?” Xalen jerked a thumb at Galgin.

“We bring him with us.”

Brabara forced Jerot’s mouth open and shoved a rag inside, then tied a rope about the length of chain between the manacles. The roughness of the gag jerked the man awake and he looked about with wide eyes for a moment before they narrowed to a calculating sneer.

“We can’t afford for him to get killed if we run across any more of his cultists,” Ebyn said.

“What do you suggest?” Seknafret asked.

“Let’s return to his quarters where we’re unlikely to be disturbed,” Ebyn began, “and I send an arcane eye out to explore the rest of the complex.”

“Good idea,” Brabara said.

“Unfortunately, the eye will be hampered by closed doors,” Ebyn added.

“I can follow along behind and open them once you confirm the way is clear,” Xalen said. “That should give us a good overview of the place.”

Brabara nodded. “I like it. Good plan, Ebyn.”

They dragged the bodies into the barracks and arranged them on the beds, then with their prisoner in tow, the group returned to Jerot Galgin’s quarters, closing the hidden doors behind them as they went.

Ebyn’s arcane eye floated out of the office and into a long corridor with a door at the end to the left and several openings along one side. A lone figure in cultists robes shuffled along the corridor muttering and twitching as it shambled along.

“I think I found Raina,” Ebyn said as he sent the eye past the lumbering cultist and into the first of the side passages.

At the end was a small crypt, with an empty coffin resting atop a low dais. Seeing nothing he repeated the process, moving the eye down the second passage to reveal another empty crypt.

The shambling cultist reached the door at the end of the passage. The figure bumped into the door with a solid thud, staggered back to bounce from the wall, then turned around to trudge back along the corridor back the way it came.

“I think we need to check that door,” Ebyn said. “It’s just outside this room about twenty feet to the left.”

“I’ll check it,” Xalen said.

“There is someone out there,” Ebyn explained. “But they seem more like a zombie than a person. If you stay quiet, you should be ok. I’ll let you know when they’ve passed this door.”

Xalen waited for Ebyn to give the signal and then slipped out of the room. The afflicted cultist shuffled down the corridor muttering and twitching as she went, leaving Xalen free to make his way in the opposite direction.

He heard the chanting even before he reached the door.

Xalen opened the door a crack and saw another of the kidnap victims, the elf male, Eldon Keyward, locked in a cage that hung from heavy chains at the centre of a massive room. A handful of cultists stood on a raised platform about fifty feet from the door, chanting and moving their arms in complex patterns, with more of the strange one-eyed creatures keeping watch.

Xalen crept back to the office and slipped inside.

“We need to go,” he said. “They have one of the hostages in a cage and there is some kind of ritual happening.”

Galgin’s sour chuckle was muffled by the gag, but nobody missed his obvious contempt.

“What do we do with him?” Brabara asked.

Seknafret thought for a moment. “We knock him unconscious and put him in the portable hole. There is enough air in there for him to last ten minutes. The fight should be over one way or another long before that.”

Brabara didn’t wait for a second opinion. She struck Jerot a solid blow to the back of his head and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. They stuffed his unconscious body into the portable hole and made their way to the door.

“You said the cultists chanting were all in a group?” Ebyn asked.

Xalen nodded. “Yes, but there are quite a few of the one-eyed things around the place too.”

“Don’t worry about those,” Brabara said. “They are pretty easy to kill.”

“Ok, so you open the door,” Ebyn said pointing at Brabara. “I’ll drop a fireball over the cultists and then we can mop up whatever is left.”

“I like this decisive side of you Ebyn,” Brabara said. “You are impressing me today. Keep it up.”

“Okay…” Ebyn blinked a few times, not sure what to make of Brabara’s words. “We go whenever you’re ready.”

Brabara inhaled deeply and then pushed open the door.

Ebyn worked his magic and pointed. He felt the weave respond but the magic was swallowed the moment he released it.

Another mage stood against the wall, originally out of sight, perhaps blocked by the door, and their counterspell stopped Ebyn’s fireball cold. Her lips curled into a cruel smile, and she knitted her fingers to unleash a blast of icy cold air toward them, before running to the opposite side of the room.

Seknafret stepped forward and slammed her staff against the floor. A swirling sandstorm appeared around her, making it impossible for anyone to see. Seknafret, though, was unaffected by the blinding sand and walked confidently into the centre of the room.

Brabara closed her eyes against the grit and ran at the nearest of the one-eyed monsters. Her glaive swiped wildly, hitting only air on the first strike but biting deeply on the second.

Xalen moved in carefully, hugging the wall to keep from losing his place in the massive chamber.

Only Ebyn stayed back. Without being able to see, his magic would not be effective. So, he waited by the door for an opportunity to present, looking over his shoulder in case that afflicted cultist returned.

Seknafret kept moving, the swirling sandstorm surrounding her as she neared the raised platform where six cultists voiced the ritual. She uttered some arcane words and pointed at two of the cultists, striking them both with eldritch blasts that knocked them back a few steps.

Her attack momentarily disrupted the flow of the ritual. A flicker of coruscating light rippled in the air surrounding the cage holding Eldon for a few seconds before it vanished. The other four cultists were still chanting and the magic continued to build.

With Seknafret and her sandstorm gone, Ebyn was able to enter the room and close the door behind him. No targets were visible, so he pressed his back against the wall and waited.

Xalen continued to move around the room, using the wall to guide him. He managed to get beyond the range of Seknafret’s sandstorm and spotted the other mage cowering behind a statue. The wizard didn’t appear to have noticed him, so Xalen brought up his bow and took careful aim. The arrow flew true to bury itself deeply in the woman’s chest. His second arrow struck home as well sending the mage toppling backward.

“The mage is down!” Xalen yelled. “Clear the sandstorm.”

Seknafret only just heard Xalen’s words over the continued chanting, and she let the sandstorm clear. Ebyn seized the moment and engulfed the remaining four cultists in a fireball that stopped the casting in its tracks.

The magic from the ritual shattered, flaring up in spectacular fashion causing a tear in the very fabric of reality. A vortex formed around the caged figure, spiralling out from the centre to engulf everyone in the room in its magical wake.

With an awful ripping sound, the world turned pure white, and the ground disappeared from under them. There was a brief sensation of falling before existence itself vanished.