Alastor Crossclaw – blogpost 15

The White Mage tightens the straps of his cloak and takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to get him out,” he declares with determination. “I’ll see you soon.” He uses dimension door to get to Farryn.

Mohan and I stand side by side, anxiously awaiting the White Mages’ return. Time passes slowly, the minutes stretching into what feels like an eternity. Then, Farryn and Jaf’ar appear before us, their faces etched with exhaustion and relief. They begin recounting their harrowing tale, a story filled with peril and desperation.

Jaf’ar was ambushed by malevolent shadows and left for dead. Farryn, quick on his feet, hurled a dodecahedron, attempting to distract the shadows and buy some time. Unfortunately, his aim was off, and the object sailed wide of its intended target. Undeterred, Farryn rushed to Jaf’ar’s side, only to discover that he was immune to direct targeting.

In a desperate bid to help the White Mage, Farryn, his hands trembling, performed the spell of revivify, infusing Jaf’ar’s lifeless form with the essence of the diamond.

After the intense story, we seek shelter within the safety of a tiny hut, its magical barrier shielding us from the darkness. I take a moment to catch my breath, feeling the exhaustion seeping into my bones. I reach into my pocket and retrieve a small lyre, I invoke the Song of Rest. The music weaves through the air, wrapping around us like a warm embrace. 

We rest, our breathing slowing and our wounds slowly mending. Gradually, a surge of renewed energy courses through my veins. I flex my muscles, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I witness their growth and strength. My muscles expand and swell, reaching a size comparable to Farryn’s tiny head. I growl softly.

Farryn smirks sarcastically and comments, “Wow, look at us, coming to each other’s aid. How heartwarming.” The White Mage lets out a sigh and responds, “Yeah… well, I made a foolish mistake.”

“Why did you disappear all of a sudden?” asks Farryn, looking accusingly at me.
“I was teleported away by the White Mage, and then he came to get you back. But you weren’t attacked at all. What’s the deal with that?”
Farryn bursts into hysterical laughter. “Oh, that,” he manages to say between fits of giggles. “Turns out, Mohan gave me some sort of protection against undead. I guess I didn’t get attacked because of that. Silly me, I completely forgot about it.”

I suggest, “Maybe you should consider wearing the headband of intellect again, so we can avoid situations like this in the future.” Farryn remains silent, offering no response.

We decide it’s best to return to the previous level and regroup. As we make our way back, climbing up the stairs, Mohan suddenly doubles over, retching black bile onto the floor. The sight sends a wave of unease through us, though the rest of us manage to hold back our nausea for the time being. However, it isn’t long before the sickness takes hold of the rest of us as well. We all begin vomiting as if we are expelling death itself from our bodies. The only one who remains unaffected is the White Mage, watching us without any signs of discomfort or illness.

We find ourselves back in front of the mysterious vase, and it becomes apparent that it’s still early afternoon. We hadn’t realized the passage of time on the previous level.

The White Mage suggests that we take some time to make plans and regroup, proposing that we return to this place tomorrow. Farryn expresses his desire to craft his own gem of lightness, while the White Mage studies his books. Mohan, on the other hand, voices his interest in going to Waterdeep via the newly created portal.

I decide to seek some information from Scarecrow, hoping he might have insights about shadow creatures. Approaching him cautiously, I ask, “Do you know anything about shadow creatures?”

Scarecrow nods knowingly. “Yeah, I’ve heard of them. They may not be the strongest, but they are undeniably evil.”

Eager to protect myself, I inquire, “How can I armor myself against them?”

Scarecrow ponders for a moment before replying, “Well, you could try spells like protection from energy. I’m not well-versed in such matters, but that might offer some defense. Additionally, you could consider using spells like bless or bane to gain an advantage in combat.”

Grateful for his advice, I express my thanks. Then, another question comes to mind. “What do you know about the Shadowdusks?”

Scarecrow’s face darkens as he responds, “Ah, yes. I’m familiar with them. Their presence and influence in Waterdeep did not sit well with me. They reside in Undermountain. It would be wise for you to stay away from them.”

My heart sinks as I recount the possibility that the Shadowdusks may have abducted two of my family members. “They might have taken my family members,” I confess, my voice tinged with worry.

Scarecrow’s gaze softens, showing a rare moment of compassion. “If they are indeed in Undermountain, they could be three floors down from here,” he reveals.

Expressing my gratitude, I bid farewell to Scarecrow and take a moment to check my spellbooks, ensuring that I am prepared for the challenges that lie ahead.

—-

In the midst of sleep, I am plagued by a nightmare. I see my own reflection, but it’s twisted and unrecognizable, emanating pure evil. I wake up several times, drenched in cold sweat.

Startled by the sound of pots and glasses crashing after waking up a third time, I make my way towards the noise. “What’s going on? I’m trying to sleep,” I grumble.

“It’s all connected to the shadows. It’s driving me mad,” the White Mage explains with frustration.

Seeking solace, I turn to prayer, invoking the name of Selûne. I sing softly, the words “moon moon shine moon” flowing from my lips. Suddenly, I hear a whispering voice that sends chills down my spine. “There is no place for light in my valley of darkness,” it murmurs, and I know deep down that it is not Selûne speaking.

In the morning, during breakfast, I share my experience with the group. The White Mage, having overheard, says, “I heard, ‘there is no place for life in my valley of death.'” Mohan adds, “And I prayed and heard: ‘there is no place for inspiration in my valley of hopelessness.'”

We ponder the significance of these messages. “Should we try bathing in holy water?” someone suggests, but the White Mage dismisses the idea, believing that in such forces, a simple bath would not suffice.

I inquire, “Can the curse be removed?” Turning to Scarecrow for guidance.

“Start with me, please,” I tell him. A small star descends, landing gently on my forehead. I’m filled with anticipation, expecting something remarkable to happen, but to my disappointment, I don’t notice any immediate changes.

“Perhaps a greater restoration?” I suggest, searching for a solution.

The White Mage contemplates the situation and proposes, “I think we need to sever the ties between Char and this plane.”

“Or what about Keresta?” someone else suggests.

“Yeah, that seems like a good starting point,” the White Mage agrees.

With a mix of determination and trepidation, we realize that we need to pass through the barrier once again. 

—–

We enter the level once again, determined to investigate the candles. As we traverse the hallway, we notice that the candles have been relit, indicating the presence of lingering cultists.

“We should search for the source of darkness. I have a plan, but we need to discuss it,” the White Mage suggests. He conjures a manifest mind, equipping it with light sources to aid its teleportation abilities. Farryn imbues Grond with daylight emanating from its nose. We decide it’s wise to venture deeper with the manifest mind as our guide.

The question arises: Do we seek out Keresta or Glister, the dragon? We conclude that finding Glister will ultimately lead us to Keresta. With our course set, we push further into the darkness.

Snitch, our trusty companion, opens the closed door for us. The manifest mind, accompanied by origami creatures that emit light, flies ahead. Utilizing the manifest mind’s teleportation, we transport ourselves to its designated location. As we arrive, we find no undead creatures in close proximity. To shed some light on the situation, I cast a spell to illuminate my staff.

However, as Mohan steps into a certain spot, a spectral mouth materializes behind us, welcoming us to the lair of Umbraxacar. The chamber is filled with mist, unaffected by the daylight. Stepping forward, we come face to face with four undead creatures lying on the ground.

Farryn casts faerie fire, but the light fails to manifest. A voice taunts us, saying, “Planning to attack upon entry? No worries, I’ll ensure a swift demise.”

Reacting swiftly, the spell bless is cast, followed by protection from good and evil to bolster our defenses.