As if yesterday’s eve was too harmonious and peaceful, todays events seemed to act as a counterpoint in this pure beauty. As if to remind us of the colder, harsher side this world so well knows to offer.
I think I can speak for all of us if I say that given the task set for today of facing an ancient presence, a ghost clinging to her despair about her own death. Conversing with a banshee is nothing a common tiefling is recommended frequently, quite the opposite. Yet our destination was the abode of the one named Agatha, hoping we could reason with her spirit without a martial confrontation that would most certainly lead to our death. On our way through the forest, I did my best to keep moral as high as possible, playing a quiet, encouraging tune. With moderate success, as we delved deeper and deeper between the gloomy, old trees.
While the forest was as beautiful and lively as one can hope for this time of the year, after a couple of hours of marching, it grew increasingly darker, cooler and quieter. Soon after we found what we were looking for – Agatha’s lair. It appeared to be grown into an ancient tree, it took us a while to discern it’s equivalent of a door. Inside the depressing atmosphere was even more dense. It looked as if time had not passed in this place, as if it was only waiting for its occupant to return and live here once more. Yet it was cold as ice and dark. Our calls soon brought forth the banshee a white, translucent figure hovering in the room. Her face was contorted into a grim, disregarding look that emerged from half rotten features. In life she might have been beautiful once yet now only death, hate and regret emanated from her.
As we were told, we quickly stated our purpose, our inquiry for the spell book of Bowgentle and our own task of finding Cragmaw castle. We presented to her the comb we were given as present in an attempt to appease her. I felt torn between her lifeless eyes capturing mine and drawing me to an edge there would be no return from and an impulse to run from this place. I managed to steady myself, focusing on the task at hand and our purpose to help Gundren and after a seemingly endless moment under her hard eyes, she allowed us to ask one, and only one, question, she would answer truthfully to the extend of her knowledge. In our struggle to fit both reasons for our visit into one single enquiry, we came up with the idea to ask for a route. And so I asked, where we would have to search to first find the location of the book and ultimately travel to Cragmaw castle. She seemed taken aback by our little play but kept to her promise. Thus, she told us, the place we were looking for was located somewhere within Neverwinter wood, while the book came into the hands of a necromancer. Before we could ask about any more details, she vanished into thin air, leaving us wondering, yet relieved to be still alive.
We quickly headed back to Conyberry, feeling not much wiser than before. Maybe sister Garaele could do something with the knowledge of the name of this necromancer. But we cannot search the entire forest for a place for which we don’t even know what we are looking for! We have to gather more information… Maybe, the old druid Reidoth can help us further along once we reach Thundertree. For now, we simply were glad to leave this oppressing place.
As we already are in the area, we reasoned, we might well see to the events playing out in the area around Old Owl Well, therefore we packed our cart back at the ruins and headed south into the hills and mountains. Grum and I luckily found a path that once must have served to connect our destination and Conyberry without having to loop around the entire mountain chain, where we made good pace. Now we already are near the old ruins and resting for whatever may lie ahead. The prospect of having to deal with more undead creatures does not sit well with me, hopefully we are equipped well enough to deal with anything we are facing. I dread the upcoming night, fearing to revisit an old withered tree with a menacing ghost in my dreams. Let me try to repel such haunting nightmares with some of the music, Anataea taught me back in Neverwinter before we will all sink into our slumber.