On the Road Again

After dealing with the red band scum, we were faced with a hard decision. What course would we take on next? Go east to find and speak with the old banshee and perhaps inquire about the undead and orcish activities reported near a place named Old Owl Well? Turn north and search for Thundertree to find the old Druid miss Alderleaf told us about? First return to Neverwinter to resupply – maybe I could investigate there with Anataea’s help for this Craigmaw Castle? Grum reminded us to think carefully about our next steps, for every move we might make could raise a wind that stirred leaves in a distant forest beyond our control or comprehension.
 
After debating well into the small hours we drew the conclusion that the most promising course of action would be to first venture to the east and see if the banshee might know anything to help us. Provided she would speak with us rather than kill us. Which I am not yet certain of…
 
But before we broke camp, we firstly had to speak to Halia Thornton of the miners’ exchange regarding the letters we found. Here we agreed upon withholding the one probably crucial letter regarding the black spider until we would learn more about her motives. With the break of the new day, after a well-deserved rest, our first stop was therefore the busy turmoil of her establishment. As promised, she handed us our reward but dodged any questions regarding her intentions. After a little convincing she at least allowed me to speak with her in more privacy in a back room. Praise Anathaea once again for her lessons! I much prefer talking to people in a civilised manner to the brutal confrontations of battle. And almost anyone can be reasoned with. Once we entered her office, leaving my disappointed, and in the case of Nysqwen visibly worried, friends behind, she revealed herself to be a member of the Zhentarim. This organisation operates much more secretively than the Lord’s Alliance and according to her has their members spread through the whole realm of Faerun. I have only heard them spoken about in hushed tones before and never actually met a member of their faction. According to Halia, they value secrecy above all and view themselves as a huge family where everyone looks out for all others. This intrigued me, not to a minor extend. This could finally be a place, I can really belong to! Their influence could help our group in Neverwinter to a degree, I never could have dreamed about. I was still confused however, how this related to her interest in Glasstaff’s letters. Her reply to this question consternated me. She disclosed to me that the overall aspiration of the Zhentarim was to gain as much wealth and power as possible, where the ends justifies all means. She sought to bring in place of the red bands a new network of figures that would grant control over Phandalin to this organisation. While her idea of such a scheme might not have been as ruthless and brutal as the tyranny of the late bandits was, this hunger for power over others still shocked me deeply. Why do people more often than not only seek to enforce their influence over others? I cannot understand, nor support such a cause and feel good about it! Sure, I do only agree with the law to a point where it may stand in the way for the good of the people, but this here aims only to increase personal benefit with no regard for others. When she offered me to join their organisation I therefore excused myself by stating I would have to think over such a grave decision before making it. She seemed fine with that, telling me to contemplate her proposition on our future travels and eventually coming to the “right” conclusion. Who knows what might happen to us on the road, maybe something can convince me that her measures are necessary to ensure more harmony in this world? I doubt it. But until I reach a final decision, I might not tell my friends about Halia’s secret. Should I decide against it, they will be the first to know, I hope they will understand. I will however share as much information as possible with them, regardless of her feelings about that. My allegiance is with my comrades.
 
Now it was time to leave Phandalin behind and make haste to free Gundren and possibly his brothers. We equipped ourselves with tents and sundry items we deemed obligatory for a journey as would lie ahead of us. We even found a cart drawn by two oxen that would reduce the weight we have to carry ourselves. And thus we ventured forth once more, traveling first the road we came down when entering Phandalin but then turning east towards Conyberry. On the road our only encounter was with a pack of wolves who despite our measures to fend them off peacefully and Grum’s efforts in speaking to them, attacked us, nonetheless. We managed to deal with them quickly, learning in the meantime that a particular smell might ward us against them better than any armour can. It is hard to describe. Even for my nose it was hard to bear standing in this fume, one has to concentrate hard to not fall victim to nausea. But the wolves and their poor fine noses seemed to suffer even worse from its effect. That might keep them at bay in the future!
 
Today we finally reached Conyberry. A desolate and forgotten place, only ruins remember the people that once housed here. But even in such a place, beauty can be found. After we looked around to gain intel regarding any undesired surprises that could befell us, we readied our beds in one of the more solid seeming houses. Archie had done a lot of work on the road and presented us with an apparatus that looks like a mechanical reconstruction of a beetle. But it has some hidden features, that he assured us would come in handy in any encounters. The boy astonishes you whenever you thought, you would know the extend of his skills! He might not be the bravest or strongest or most charming young man, but I have never seen someone so gifted with his hands and in working intricate mechanisms. Soon after he prodded up his, for lack of a better word, beetle to give us some shelter derived from his strange kind of magic, he went about and placed traps around our camp. In the meantime, I returned to one of my favourite things to do in Neverwinter and roamed around the empty, quiet former streets until I found an old, crumpled tower. I made the delicate climb up its brittle structure, careful to not tread on any loose stones or frail wood. After a relatively long time I emerged on its rooftop and immediately knew that it was worth the struggle a hundred times over. The sun was just beginning to set, its golden disk slowly sinking behind Neverwinter forest, bathing the scenery in red and golden light. The ruins of the city were tainted in colours that can only be seen during this particular hour, while high above us the sky glowed in every shade of red and blue that I know of. I stood there for a long time, taking everything up within me, until the golden disk long was no longer visible on the horizon. My tries to capture this moment in a quiet tune cannot do justice to what I witnessed but it felt right, to ring master Rattlepike’s old instrument and to feel my fingers almost be guided by an unseen force over the strings. Even in the most dreadful times, harmony prevails.