Finally - Charge!

Despite the frightening visit last night, we all found rest at some point to break camp early this morning. Long enough had we postponed our setting out to free Gundren – should he still be alive. The first revelation following our awakening was that Kyla did not kill us all in our sleep, contributing to a positive first impression. The second eye-opener was provided by Archie, whose mind apparently even in his sleep worked with a meticulous precision one can only marvel at. He proposed to lay a trap to the dragon, once we returned from our most pressing quest. His idea involved one of the spider carcasses or a similar thing, he would prepare with a small jar in its belly. In said jar, he wanted to contain some acid for one and additionally a scatter of sharp metal shards that would be set off by a small amount of an explosive paste, once the jar was destroyed. This way, he argued, the dragon might be severely damaged from the inside while enjoying his next midnight snack.
Hearing these elaborations, one jaw after the other dropped both in awe at such ingenuity and from a frightful shudder in face of such gruesome care. Yet, all of us approved his idea as it certainly was better to harm the treacherous beast from afar. Filled with grim determination after these discussions and a short breakfast, we set out soon after dawn to eradicate the final remains of zombies in the north of the village.
 
Kyla led the way, skirting the outermost borders of the village to avoid a seeking gaze from the tower to our left. Her determination was perceptible, although it did not inhibit her caution to move carefully. The Raven Queen’s doctrines must be quite strict in her perception of undead. When we closed in on the former marketplace, Kyla begged us to stop and remained a few heartbeats in what seemed like silent prayer. I have never before seen a clerical person so close during their communications with their deity, thus I found myself intrigued by this alien form of unity. Sure, I send my prayers to Mystra and sometimes am inclined to believe she grants me small peaks into the powerful mystery that is music, yet such a close relation with a god was new to me. And during her prayers, a calm expression appeared on her face, softening her hard features as she no doubt experienced completeness. When she opened her eyes again, she reassured us that the building at the north end of the place was the last structure containing the ill-begotten zombies and had to be cleansed. Behold those that wield divine power, especially if you are undead as it seems. I will do my darndest, not to stand between her and her will. And will hope for the best that it aligns with the good of our party and my value propositions.
 
Before we approached the house, I offered to sneak ahead to get some intel as to what was awaiting us. The others appreciated this and so I went on my way, silent as was tieflingly possible. Drawing lessons from my last scouting trips I promised to myself to take extra care in looking for heaps of racks. As I approached the building, it quickly became clear that it used to function as the garrison of the village. The walls were sturdier, apart from a few windows arrow slits were carved into the sides and the doors had withstood the test of time better than any we had come across so far. I peered through windows and slits on all three sides not facing the dragon’s tower and indeed could see some motionless corpses covered in the same black smut as the others. In what must have been the main room of the building, none such shapes were apparent in my inspections, however, earlier encounters left me thinking that the shadows might well host more undead. With these discoveries, I returned to my friends to plan our engagement.
Our idea was to sneak to the backside of the building and breach in through one door, using the architecture of the rooms to lure the zombies into a spot all of us could wreak havoc upon. To ease our approach, I wanted to try to insulate the house from all outside noises and thus sat down with Rattlepike’s old lyra to weave a net of silence over the place. Kyla reminded me to lift the spell once we were inside, as she otherwise would have no way to communicate with her goddess, which would be essential for her to aid us magically in battle. I had not considered that issue and thus was grateful for her comment. In the upcoming battle, the power I might contribute would be better served in aiding my comrades anyway.
The assault on the old garrison went down pretty much according to plan. Grum and Nysqwen formed our front line, followed by Archie with Ori and Kyla. Based on our last encounters, I was better off keeping out off the thick of the skirmish, trying to support my friends to the best of my abilities. I took position at one of the arrow slits to train my crossbow on any movement detectable inside. Were the horrid undead sentient creatures, one could almost have been sorry for them, as Grum with bearish ferocity and a rage filled Nysqwen tore limps and cut off heads, while Ori and Archie took turns lighting corpses on fire. While the others were still busy fighting, I helped Kyla already in piling up the slain zombies in the main chamber of the garrison to feed their bodies to flames. No ten minutes after our attack on the building, we left behind a room quickly filling with smoke and the stench of burning flesh and finally set off southward to take the path Reidoth had described to us.
 
Our way winded alongside the edge of Neverwinter Forest. The euphoric feeling of our last triumph, supported by the relief of leaving the hunting grounds of a green dragon quickly faded away in light of the task in front of us – infiltrating a goblin stronghold with possibly hundreds of the small creatures, all without even knowing, whether Gundren was still alive. After all the fighting, here I finally saw an opportunity to be of greater use to my friends in lifting their mood and directing thoughts to more pleasant directions. I seriously must improve my capabilities if I want to continue traveling with these fine folks without becoming a liability. Therefore, I shall combine Anataea’s teachings and my preliminary discoveries in the arcane art of music to develop skills that may help or protect my friends. I beg Mystra and the legacy of Rattlepike in this old lyra to help me on this journey.
The voyage was accompanied by Kyla’s accounts about her previous life as a cleric, how she would conduct weddings and funerals but otherwise life a rather peaceful life. Until the vision the Raven Queen sent her forced her to leave in the hopes of stopping a dooming apocalypse. Talking about a quick turn of fate… We made quick pace, Grum’s ability to navigate us through sometimes rather treacherous areas was without fail. He noticed the narrowest tracks and seemed to know hidden holes in the ground, loose rocks or nasty nettles that would burn through tissue and flesh upon a mere touch before any of us had even spotted such obstacles. It was past noon, when all over a sudden he halted and gesticulated to us to be quiet. All noises that had accompanied our march along the forest had silenced. We peered into the gloomy woods yet could see no movement or other sign that might pinpoint the source for muting life. When we carefully moved closer to the forest, the dwarf saw an old game trail, leading north to south that had seen some travel by creatures swinging forged weapons recently. We could not determine any such creatures being about now and a few minutes later, the forest awakened again. Birds tweeted above us, leaves rustled, and some small animals hushed through the thicket.
We decided to follow the trail south as it fell in line with our desired direction and in this manner, we might find what caused the silence. But the next hours passed without any incidents. The trail displayed large traces as might be left behind by owlbears like the one we fought in front of the walls of Neverwinter. Otherwise it seemed to be more frequented by boars. Before long, it twisted back deeper into the forest, thus we left it and returned to our original path, where Grum filled the time lecturing us about the craft of brewing.
 
Already on the lookout for a place to spend the night, with the last hours of daylight we ran blindsided into an ambush set up by five hobgoblins. One arrow missed Nysqwen by inches, another one however stuck Grum square in the shoulder. His cry, a mixture of surprise and pain turned into a low growl as he formed his rage into a ball of blazing fire, he prepared to await the attackers. Then the three melee fighters were upon us. One of them ran past our two fierce warriors and headed towards me but was slain by Kyla before he could reach me. Archie, Nysqwen and Grum dealt with the other two attackers. I used the time granted by Kyla’s action to send the two archers into a deep slumber. We hastened over to them where Nysqwen slayed the first one while I shackled and gagged the second one.
As he awoke, I was quick to enthral him with some soft whispers suggesting he was an old acquaintance of ours. Besides a lack of fighting prowess, maybe in such matters I can serve our cause. Charmed, the hobgoblin told us about several entry points into Cragmaw Castle, including a secret one from the north. This might be the easiest way for us to enter the keep unseen. He also told us king Grol would keep a dwarf hostage in his private chamber. I perceived a great feeling of relief upon hearing these words, I had almost lost all hope of seeing Gundren again alive. I could witness a similar expression on the face of my old dwarven friend. In the meantime, Nysqwen had searched the bodies of the slain attackers and revealed a small, crudely drawn picture of herself from one of the hobgoblin’s pockets, bearing the symbol of the black spider. Enraged she asked for the meaning of this but all our captive knew was that the ominous drow had sent out a host of searching parties to stop Nsyqwen from interfering with his business. He and his party had been dispatched by king Grol from Cragmaw castle.
 
With this imminent threat above our heads, we quickly had to find a more secluded place to spend the night before encountering more such search parties. As for the captured hobgoblin we saw no other way than to slay him then and there, which Nysqwen accomplished not without a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. Now we found a small sheltering cave, but our fire has to burn low tonight, Nysqwen will have the first watch. During our dinner I had another revelation while playing a soft ballad. I shed myself of any corporeal concerns and tried to be completely afloat in the notes emanating from the lyra in my hands and my automatically moving lips. And I could feel it! The river of melodies, swinging back and forth in the basin I was laying out for it, yet participating in its shaping. And the instrument of the great bard succumbed to the pull of the flow, producing sounds none of us had ever experienced from an instrument like this, they cannot have been of natural origin yet fitted perfectly within the frame, tone and emotion of the song. And it whispered a promise:
Tomorrow will take it away
The fear of today
It will be gone
Due to these magic songs!
 
(With courtesy to Hansi Kürsch and André Olbrich of Blind Guardian, whose genious the final lines are derived from)