The Ritual

Our explorations were abruptly cut short as a familiar haunting, yet alluring melody trailed down a nearby well shaft. The moisture of recent rainfall made our ascend on the slippery stones painfully slow to the point of the music seemingly having faded already as we crested the rim. Luckily, Grum’s ears proved to be more sensitive. He was certain to hear the flute continue further to the north and gestured us to silently follow him. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, turned to us and too quick for us to stop him drew a line across all our faces with a handful of ash. Just as we wanted to protest, the shadows appeared to gather around us and where we stepped through the soft mud, no footprints were to be seen. Thus hidden, we followed the dwarf’s lead.
After some time of hushing through the streets we ended up in a small alley lined by half-crumpled buildings. In the shadows at its end stood a figure. Upon finishing a silent prayer, surprise caused Kyla to sharply inhale as she gestured us forward. As we got closer, we could see a humanoid face that narrowed to a rat’s snout peeking from under the hood, yet it stood perfectly still while the music continued. We approached and saw what appeared to be a straw puppet shaped like the flutist and clad in filthy rags, not unlike a scarecrow. In the pockets of its rugged coat, we found a small stone that just as Archie’s contraption emitted some form of recording of the enchanting melody that haunted Neverwinter these past couple of nights. In a flash of frustration, Kyla set the straw body on fire, just as I saw in the corner of my eye the shadow of a large black rat darting from the mouth of the alley.
We rushed out of the side street, following the huge rodent further north through the disorienting, winding paths of the chasm district. Fewer and fewer sounds were audible around us the further we got from the wall as the still populated areas dwindled and the buildings became increasingly more crumpled. We had almost caught up as we turned a corner into a long-abandoned ruin and suddenly were faced with hundreds upon hundreds of rats of different sizes. The mutated rat turned to face us. The shadows in the area almost made her snout look like it curled into a devilish grin as a voice rang through my head: “You look just like the mistress… She will call upon you when the time comes!” And the rodent vanished from sight.
 
Faced with the horde, shocked by their sheer numbers, there was no other option than hasted retreat. I tried my best to lead our sprint due east, away from the more populated outskirts of the city to not endanger its denizens even further. The sudden shift in pace after a long day of wandering through sewers was a little much for Archie and Grum as they started to lag behind the group slightly. But without hesitation, Nysqwen in her protective instincts slowed down enough to catch up with them and spurred them to new athletic heights. A few minutes and many, many turned corners later, the squeaking subsided as it seemed we had outrun the rat swarm.
Looking around, we found ourselves in the north-eastern part of the chasm district, not far from the river. None of the houses around us were intact anymore, their original inhabitants long gone if they had been lucky enough to get away. This district had always been the home of the less fortunate people of Neverwinter, simple workers and traders who were hit by the opening of the rift with no chance of defence. The char marks on the rubble around us were telling the tragic story of hundreds that had died within hours of the calamity. Amidst this desolation we now caught our breath while ducking under a half-collapsed roof and my mind was racing. Who was this ‘mistress’? If she looked like me… but that made no sense! Surely, I would have known about such a thing. And it sounded as if she would be waiting for something. How does this tie in to Lystramon?
With a nervous chuckle and although I already knew the answer to the question, I asked my friends whether they had heard a similar voice speaking to them when we ran into the ambush. Surprised they shook their heads and I relayed to them that apparently there was a mistress somewhere in the shape of a tiefling. Kyla threw me a strange glance upon this revelation, while the others wondered whether this was someone taking this shape to play upon the natural fears of the population, or if indeed someone of my race had given in to his bloodline. Of course, it was not far-fetched that pacts with demons would involve someone more familiar with them, potentially being able to speak their language. But none of the other signs we had found thus far had pointed to a tiefling pulling the strings in the background, just these strange rat-humans.
 
We began walking in a southern ark to get back to the Protector’s enclave and to prevent further unwanted encounters. Perhaps it might be useful to speak with the orcs that so suddenly had shown up to offer help where before they had occupied or kept to themselves. Nysqwen wondered aloud if Teynos could perhaps have a word with them and get us to their leader in order to exchange knowledge. No one had been given access to their territory before, however, and it would be doubtful if Teynos would be accepted by them or shunned just as most humans were uncomfortable around the mix-breeds. Archie had heard the guards speak of the leader as Ankariba, a shaman that was leading this tribe since it arrived in Neverwinter. He pensively continued that this might be a form of power play, where the occupants hoped to gain favour from the now fortified parts of the city in exchange for their nightly hunts. This would imply that they perhaps knew no more than us and were merely seizing an opportunity.
Without issues, the guards allowed us entry back into the city proper just as a blood red sun menacingly sunk at the horizon beneath the sea, causing us to quicken our pace to get to Grum’s home where we sunk onto his assortment of chairs and couches, exhausted from the day. He took a dark bottle with some syrupy liquid from a cabinet and poured all of us a drink to calm the nerves. A pleasant burning sensation numbed the throat while a sweet aftertaste took care of just what he had intended with this gesture. Kyla asked if anyone else thought it odd that after we had spoken with the guards about putting up a trap for the rats, we now had found ourselves in one we just barely escaped. Was someone spying on us? A very unsettling thought but a justified observation. As he had heard about magic that could track or spy on certain items, Archie asked all of us to check what we were carrying with us to make sure that at least we had not been given some sort of surveillance device. He noticed a shiny black pearl that Nysqwen pulled from her backpack that emitted a magical aura. She said she had carried that with her for quite some time already, it must have been salvaged from the cave of the hill giant. With his elaborate lenses, Archie took the trinket for a closer inspection. With every passing minute, a beginning grin on his face grew wider and wider, until he excitedly took off the goggles and explained that this pearl after attuning with it, would grant its bearer to recover some strength for certain spells once per day. As he had often found his own magical resources exhausted quickly, he was understandably overjoyed when everyone agreed that he should keep the pearl. His expression resembled that of a young child on its name day, it was a surreal moment of happiness amidst troubled times, rekindling hope for a better tomorrow. We decided to take a brief rest before using the night to seek for the flutist within the city walls.
 
Before we ventured out into the night, Grum raised his ash once more and this time explained that he would aid us in passing without leaving traces for others to follow. Thus equipped, we strode into the silent, empty streets of a city that held its breath. The night was surprisingly cold for Midsummer, almost unnaturally so. A hint of rain was in the air and a slight wind chilled us even further. In the distance, orcish voices could be heard shouting brief phrases and Teynos could tell us that the hunters were out again, clearing paths through streets and tunnels. We found a vantage point from where we could keep an eye out on the streets in which the flute had been heard most recently and waited.
Some time passed before a small, halfling-sized figure hushed through the shadows, wearing a dark cloak and hood up. But I would recognise my old friend anywhere. Irakin briefly stopped, glanced about and then continued his path. Soon after, a soft thud made us turn around and the halfling stepped from the shadows in my direction. He whispered that she had vanished somewhen in the last few hours. No one had seen her leave or wander, but the house was empty. Alarmed, I thanked him for his information and wished him well for his further business. Seeing the look on my face or hearing the trembling in my voice, the others asked no questions when I asked them to help me check on a house in the chasm district and followed me promptly.
 
For the second time this day we went to the far side of the new eastern city wall. Again and again, the feeling of being watched came over us and kept us on our toes. I quickened my steps until we were half running towards the familiar alleys towards an old, simple house close to the north-western edge of the district. Still better kept than many of the buildings around it, it was plain to see that its inhabitants did not have the coin to repair the broken windows on the ground floor and thus had just nailed them shut with some wooden boards. The door was locked, so I bade my friends to wait for a brief moment while I went into the side alley, making the climb to the window on the first floor that I knew how to open from the outside without any tracks and entering the humble chamber, where faintly glowing coals were all that remained from an evening’s fire in the hearth.
After a quick peek in the small neighbouring room to confirm what Irakin had said, I hushed down the stairs, avoiding any squeaking floorboards without actively thinking about it and opened the barred door from the inside to let my friends enter. I welcomed them to what arguably might be called my home and explained that my mother had gone missing somewhen within the last few hours. And I confirmed that indeed I inherited my racial background at least partially from her, indicating that I was quite suspicious about learning of a tiefling mistress and her disappearance on the same day. Together we searched the small abode. The bed looked untouched; no sleep had been found tonight. On the nightstand I found the opened scroll I had left a few nights ago and decided to take it with me for the time being.
It did not take long before we discovered a mask tucked under the bed, resembling the prolonged snout of a rat. In a crate we found a bone flute, unadorned but masterfully carved. On top of that a faint but pungent smell of decay lay in the air, especially in the bottom floor. I did not say a word. I couldn’t. Nothing made sense anymore. What was happening? True, our relationship was estranged, distant, but of all the people in the world she was among the last I would have expected to liaise with hellish folk. I could hardly bare the looks I was getting from my friends, my face turned to stone.
Archie found neither flute nor mask to be magical and the latter would only from afar be convincing for a rat’s face. Teynos tried to put it on but was surprised as he realised that the straps were hardly long enough to reach around his head. He threw me a measuring glance and asked if my mother had similar horns to mine. He assessed that the way the disguise was designed was very strange for a tiefling as the horns would be in the way of the fastenings. I don’t know whether that was a good or a bad thing. If the items had been placed here, what was their intentions? Would someone randomly expect people to raid the homes of tieflings in Neverwinter for connections to the rat plague and decided to put the blame on them? Or were these intended for us to find? Why? I could not think straight, this was too much.
Grum stepped forward, taking the initiative. He guided us out of the house and turned into a dire wolf, sniffing the cold air until he found a trail of the rotting smell. Without being able to pay attention where we were going, I followed my friends.
 
The trail ended at an all too familiar well, a well we had climbed out of only hours before when a sudden melody interrupted our search through the sewers. We climbed down once again but at the bottom we found the water being turned blood red. Grum led us into the tunnel, following a broad, dark trail; whoever had left it must have lost a lot of blood in the process. The stench increased with every step we took until the tunnel we traversed ended in a hole in a brick-build wall. Behind it, we could see some part of the sewer system. A limp body was slowly drifting in the current through its centre while in an alcove some rats were feasting on another carcass. All paths were covered in blood. Kyla stepped to Teynos and bade him to give her his hand on which he wore the ring I had passed on to him earlier. As she was holding it, his and her corresponding ring began to pulse with a dim blueish light for just a heartbeat until she let go of his hand. She nodded satisfied.
The half-orc was the first to step into this new section, loosening a brick in the process that tumbled into the slow stream of bloody sewage, scaring the rats apart with the noise. The body, now slightly further down the tunnel, had once been a female halfling, clad in rags that marked her as an inhabitant of the chasm district. The view around us was truly horrific, the stench mind-numbingly awful. Kyla could not keep her dinner down and it took all my willpower to not join in her retching. Bodies were strewn around us, cast to the sides with an appalling carelessness. Blood, gore and sickness had built something resembling a temple to the worst elements of existence, its deity cruelty and spite.
Archie instructed Voithos to scout ahead while we slowly followed. Just as the familiar turned a corner, we heard a cry for help, so full of despair and pain that in combination with our surroundings it almost brought me to my knees. Clusters of rats were everywhere, regular sewer rats but also the monstrous specimen that had tormented Neverwinter recently. While Archie was picking the lock of a rusty gate blocking our passage, I conjured the melody that haunted our nightmares in the direction from which we came which caused a number of the larger rats to look up from their respective meals and head towards the sound. Ori did not detect an immediate threat and so we pushed on until we found an entryway to what looked like a faintly lit cellar. From within, the horrible screams continued. A rasping voice was reciting a litany in the infernal tongue of the hells, what words I could make out did not bode well for whoever was screaming in that room. Another iron gate was blocking the entrance to the room.
Not hesitating, Teynos tore ahead and with a resounding clang tried to kick in the gate. It took him multiple attempts before he succeeded, the litany in the other room never faltering, never stopping to wonder who was knocking on its door. The half-orc burst through the door, followed by Nysqwen. Archie conjured Ori as the rest of us followed suit. If the surrounding tunnels had the appearance of a disgusting mirror image of a temple, this room was its sanctuary. A large summoning circle covered most of the floor, rimmed with lowly burning torches. On the far end, a stone altar was placed, on top of which lay a naked woman, screaming for help on the top of her lungs. Looming over her was the flutist. His recitation never faltered as he shot a glance to our direction, gestured three gigantic rats to deal with us and raised a terrifying serrated dagger above the woman. Just before Archie could enter the room fully to make space for Grum, Kyla and myself, one of the rats rushed up and blocked the passage. Then complete and utter darkness filled the hallway. I knew this magic and immediately realised that no vision would be able to pierce through that veil. We were cut off from our friends, who we could hear fighting the second rat and rushing towards the altar.
I could here the final words in the devils’ tongue saying: “Hereby accept my offer oh Lord of Rats, oh Lystramon” and a final, heart wrenching scream echoed through the chamber before the female voice stopped forever. I fumbled at my belt pouch until I found the scroll we had been given by Hamun Kost what felt like eternities ago. Hastily read words that felt alien and yet guided by some strange power dispelled the darkness in front of us. In order to help deal with the blockage posed by the rat, Grum casted a beam of moonlight right on top of the gigantic rat, now filling the passage with blinding white light. Behind it, we could hear painful squeaking as Teynos and Nysqwen were dealing heavy blows to our foes. Finally, the rat that was keeping us at bay fell and we could charge into the cellar to aid our companions, however at the cost of diving straight through the well-meant moon light. Cursing, Grum began moving the beam towards the flutist that stood awaiting at the foot of the altar. Nysqwen ran straight towards the figure which in response conjured some blueish shell like an arcane shield around itself and assailed the dragonborn with a lightning bolt of black energy that emerged from its dark, humanoid hand. All I could think of was to further protect Kyla and Archie who were still a few paces back with me, while Teynos mercilessly pummelled the remaining two large rats to the ground. Grum suddenly was assailed by a swarm of rats that had emerged from a corner of the room. Kyla meanwhile desperately tried to reach out to stop the soul of the woman from leaving her body yet. A second lightning bolt hit Nysqwen and Teynos who pressed on to get to the strange being. Grum did not heed the rats around him too much and continued moving his beam onto the flutist, a terrible squeal filled the chamber when the beam finally touched its form. In a last effort, the flutist called out to Archie, causing the young man to suddenly stop in his tracks and heal the by now heavily wounded creature. Ori’s attention shifted from our enemies to Teynos and bombarded him with arcane energy, forcing the half-orc to lose his consciousness.
I desperately called Archie’s name, pleading to his senses and yanked the staff up, pointing at the creature. Eight beams erupted from the tip, but all were absorbed without effect by the blue sphere around its body. It at least caused enough distraction for Nysqwen to finally get into striking distance and in a devastating blow she cut the creature down where it stood.
Silence.
Only the sound of blood dripping from the altar was to be heard as Archie shook out of his charmed state and Teynos gruntingly stood back up, his orcish ferocity pushing through as his jaw clenched tight against the pain. Kyla rushed to the lifeless body on the altar, but it was too late. The spirit had left the body and there was no saving this woman. The blood of the flutist hit the edge of the circle on the ground, ‘ere we could so much as gather our thoughts.
All the lights died. The circle now glowing in a dark red light. From its centre emerged the largest rat I had ever seen. It’s shoulders above head height, it stood there, bathed in the red light, looming over our exhausted party.
 
(Note to self: maybe I should revive this idea I had before… Cliffhanger I had called it. I will just cut out here without a warning, continuing the story in the next chapter. Would this work if I continued in a new volume? Contemplate this!)