Session 15: Overly Dramatic Descriptions, Help, Horace, Owing Debt of Gold & Honor, Taking My Shirt Off For Very Not Sexy Reasons, Interrogating Someone When I am Feeling Poorly, Crushing Despair, Being Flat Broke, the Jungle, Big Blue Flying Guys

General Summary

I sit and watch dark water slide by. When I glance back over my shoulder I can see first mate outlined by light of lantern as she steers, and dark shadows of several crew members, shapeless lumps sleeping under waterproof canvas. There is no sound but occasional splashing of strange creatures which pull boat, and gentle lapping of our wake against stone walls. We are passing through area that is almost so narrow that I can run hand along rock face, but I have learned lesson already – do not touch. Rock is covered in slimy algae that smells like week old dead fish.
Ceiling has slowly dropped as we traveled, until now it is so low that I can feel miles of dirt and rock which are balanced over our heads, just one minute, one hour, one day, away from collapsing down on us. Cold water seeps out of ceiling, and falls on us like rain. I can not stop with the shivering.
There is room, perhaps, for me to be under overhang where is sleeping rest of party, but I do not wish to be so very close to them. I can not seem to keep still, and I do not want to wake them with constant movement or have to answer questions about how it is I am feeling. And especially, I do not want to have to make my way past them to side of boat so that I can be sick. Better this way – I can just lean over rail. Not that there is being anything left in stomach anymore. Not for many hours now.
There is always wind that is moving through Underdark. In big caverns you can barely notice it most of time – it is just occasional breeze on face, or hint of smell from somewhere else. But in small passages like this, when wind funnels through, it hits you like ambush, and makes creepy, whistling noise as it rushes past. Some people are calling this wind plachushchiye prizraki, “crying ghosts,” because they believe it is spirits of people who have been drowned, that they are weeping with sadness. But people are wrong, like usual. These ghosts, they are not crying. They laugh. At us. Not that I am blaming them – I would be laughing too, if I was dead.
Ghosts are pretty fucking amused right now, and all cloth on ship not tied down, flutters in sudden gust. First mate calls out to one of crew to secure line and I close my eyes, turning face into wind, trying to pick up smell of… I do not know what. Something. But all I smell is dead fish algae, and I try not to gag
Then it is still again; ghosts have gone to bother other people. I guess we are not very funny after all. And I am hearing now different sound — it is scrabbling, digging, clawing sound. I look over to where assholes are sleeping and I see, draped over pile of barrels, is Ingoria. She is one who is making sounds. Her paws are scratching at dream enemy and her face twitches as she makes small growls.
I watch for several minutes as she fights dream fight, and I am wondering who it is she is ripping guts out of. If I was guessing, then probably it is silver-haired asshole from Sylvan camp. I also am having many nightmares about how that fight came to messy, messy end. I am not so much hypocrite to say I have problem with killing, of course, but I draw line at eating of entrails. Entrails are hard pass for me.
She wakes up with start. “Bad dream, kitty cat?” I ask.
“Good dream,” she responds, closing eyes, stretching very long, and then she is right back to sleep again, and I am alone with bad thoughts, waiting for laughing ghosts to return.

*********

There are footsteps behind me, and I know they are belonging to Baermek.
He stands quietly next to me for minute, then asks in raspy voice, that is honestly best thing about him other than occasional, well-timed healing spell, “How are you feeling, my dear?”
“I am feeling fine, so much better than I am feeling yesterday. Thank you, Baermek.” This is lie and he knows it. “There is probably time enough for you to give Little Hobgoblin his morning bathtime before we reach town, if you hurry.” I try to move away from him, but he does not let me.
“There is much we must accomplish today. We need you sharp, Alyona.'' Then he lays hand on my shoulder, and again I feel strange warmth move through my body. Terrible beast inside me who is wanting Glow is put back into cage for one more day, and I want to make big sigh of relief, but instead I smack his hand away.
“I am always sharp, Hobgoblin. Keep hairy paws to yourself.” I pull Grandfather’s shirt tighter around my body. Scars still are hurting, but much less pain than there was yesterday. Baermek nods at me and gives little smile, then walks over to talk quietly with Grandfather. Just like that, not even trying to hide it. They both look at me, then Grandfather walks over. I do not remember posting sign that says “If you have issue with Alyona, please meet her first thing in morning at ship rail to tell her whatever bullshit you need to tell her.” Maybe it is drugs that make me forget.
“Granddaughter, you mustn’t turn down the assistance the hobgoblin offers you,” he says in Elven. “There is no shame in…”
I laugh at him. “Shame? Are you fucking kidding me, old man? There is nothing but fucking shame. All I've done is trade one goddamn dependency for another. At least Glow made me forget all this bullshit.” I can not be reading his expression, but I see that his right hand makes tight fist for moment before he turns and walks back to where he was packing belongings.
“Good talk Grandfather,” I call out. “Always I am enjoying getting such helpful advice from respected family elder.”
Nobody else tries to talk to me, which maybe is not being surprise.

**********

We arrive at Lightkeeper dock and get off boat. It has only been couple of days but I feel maybe one hundred years older than when I went out to search for doughnuts. Grandfather is last to walk down gangplank, Boris at his heel. He looks around at us then says quietly, “There may be spy here, remember. Keep out sharp eye.” Like I am forgetting this little fact!
There are couple people on dock waiting for ferry, but they are looking like regular Lightkeeper people and do not seem to pay us any extra attention. Most places we go, we get much attention, but here they are used to us.
In entry hall is usual security detail – two mages who are too low in rank to weasel way out of guard duty, and couple more of fighter types. This is pretty big security for building full of scholars and I am wondering, not for first time, what kind of trouble Lightkeepers are worried about, and what would happen to someone who tried to take building. I would enjoy planning such infiltration, but I am giving myself even odds on being fried by lightning or made into drooling puppet. Magic is fact of life, and you must always be planning for it, but we both know it is total bullshit.
There is front desk where visitors must go, and behind it is little rat of man named Horace. Horace and I have had words before. You can probably guess what some of words were. So, I am not least bit surprised when I see Horace take out sending stone and whisper into it after he sees us come in.
I walk over to desk, jump up and twirl around so legs are on far side. “Any messages, Horace?” I lean in so I am right in his face.
“Welcome back, Ms. Belov” he says with sneer, but, compared to Grandfather’s, it is weak effort. “Agent Groskimankobalt has been looking for you, although I can’t imagine why.”
“Try harder, Horace – imagination is all you have. GG is lucky little man, and you… you are fuckwit.” I tap pocket where he hid away sending stone. “Any messages about me, fuckwit?”
He sputters. “I was simply alerting Agent Groskimankobalt to your presence in the building,” he says with snide tone. Then he goes and makes big stinky face, “Unnecessary, though it may be. I am quite certain he could smell you when you entered.”
He is not being wrong. I smell terrible, like sweat and sickness. So, I give him little punch in nose. Not hard – just enough to make it swell up. Now he will not have to smell things which are so very unpleasant for him. What can I say? I am giver.
He gasps with shock. There are tears in his eyes and he is holding hand to his face, where little bit of blood is coming out of his nose. He makes wild, angry gesture at nearest guard who saunters over with great casualness.
“This… person… attacked me, Jarrett. You witnessed it. I don’t care what management says about them, I will not be assaulted by thugs. Please escort her from the building immediately.”
Jarrett looks at Horace, who is still holding face and making schnuffling sounds like sad little piggie. Then he looks back at me and, making no expression, lifts his fist. I give it bump, and he turns and walks back to his station.
Minute later, GG comes running down stairs so fast I am afraid he will hurt himself. “You found her! You found her!” he is squeaking. When he reaches us, he launches himself at me, wrapping little arms around my legs in fierce hug. I am not sure what to do with this, but it is being GG, so I do not kill him. Small pats on back seem maybe to be what is appropriate, so this is what I do until finally he lets go.
“GG, GG, I need answer!” I laugh. “Did Horace send you message about us?”
He looks over at Horace, notices bloody nose, and shakes his head. In low voice, he says, “I warned you, Horace.” Then he makes gimme gesture with his hand and Horace digs sending stone out of pocket and gives it to him, without saying one more word. Honestly, violence really is answer to most of life’s difficulties.
Now GG starts with asking many, many questions, and not even is he waiting for answers. “What happened? Where was she? Was it the boat?”
“Perhaps, this is a conversation best held in a more private location,” Baermek says, but even he is smiling at way GG is dancing around.
“Yes, yes, of course,” GG says and leads us upstairs to rooms where we usually sleep. It is good to see familiar place and I rush in to check on belongings. Bag is still there. Contents of bag is still there. This is relief!
We all take time to wash up from travels, then meet up in common area to have serious conversation with GG. We tell him all things that have happened, and warn him that maybe we are thinking there is spy at Lightkeepers.
(It is possible, you are telling me, that GG could be spy. I am not stupid; I know this. But, you know what? I do not care. I do not want to live in world where GG is spy who sent me to be tortured and killed. If he is going to betray us again, I am hoping he is successful next time, so I never have to make bright light go out of his eyes. (Of course, you and I both know, we do live in that kind of world. If it comes to that, I will kill him slow and make it hurt.))
Grandfather and I decide to stay at Lightkeepers with heads down, while rest of group goes out to run errands. They will go to Wunderbar and Death Dealer Dan’s and Grandfather gives Baermek long, long list of things he is needing to set up lab.
Ah, this is thing I have not told you! We have decided Engineering school at Thanedell will be making for perfect base of operations. Baermek made weird fucking comment about how base could not get pregnant, which is… good, I guess? I just think fact that nobody else can get inside is critical point. Grandfather is going to set up lab for the studying and inventing, and we will get furniture and emergency supplies and things like that. We will also be needing to clean out Sylvans who are left in camp, but there is much scut work to do before we get to have the fun times.
When I give Baermek money for lab equipment, I also give him extra thousand gold. Grandfather told me that hobgoblin spent twice that for rooms on boat, and I feel like I am owing him this money. I tell him I will give him rest later. He does not at first look like maybe he wants to take money, but he does, and gives me little nod. I am now on some kind of payment plan for own kidnapping and torture. This is fucking bullshit.
While others are gone, I ask GG to come in my room. “I need you to look at something GG.” I say and he nods, very serious. I turn around and lift shirt over head.
Words that GG says are in Gnomish, but meaning is very clear. I just stand with back to him, waiting. Finally he is quiet again, before asking in Common, “Alyona, who did this to you?”
“It does not matter, GG. They are dead.”
“Good,” he says, and there is cold satisfaction in his voice, which, I admit, is kinda hot.
“Do you recognize this symbol, little man?”
“I do not,” he says after long moment. “But it seems to be mathematical, geometric.” He moves closer, studying. “If you want, I could research it for you.”
I was hoping that he would be jumping up and saying, “Yes! Yes! I know what exactly this is Alyona!” but what were chances?
“Yes, I say. “If you could find meaning of this symbol, I would be very much… grateful.”
“Of course,” he says, “you are my friend, Alyona — whatever I can do to help.” His voice is unusually soft and gentle, for brief moment, but then he is right back to nerd business.
“Any idea why they put this mark on you? It might help direct my research if I had some idea of what their intentions were. Does it have arcane significance, perhaps?” I can hear him pull out pen and quill from desk in corner, and scratching noise as he starts making copy of image.
This I do not want to answer, but if it is helping him to do research.... “It is mark that means… that means I… am belonging to someone. It means… ownership.”
“They branded you?” he says, and now voice is filled with horror.
“Yes,” I say, “Can I put shirt back on now?”
“Uh-huh,” he whispers. I get dressed and turn back around. He is looking down at paper where is drawn mark, thinking. “If… if there is someone you suspect was responsible for your capture, if you think you’ve found the spy – tell me, Alyona. I can listen to their thoughts for you, find out the truth.”
“We do not have way of knowing who it could be right now. There are too many possibilities. But maybe you could do this research for us, too? Listen here, listen there, see what you may discover?”
He sweeps paper off of desk, “I will. If they're here, I will find them for you.” He marches out of room, filled with the determination.

********

Others return from shopping. Skreek has new goggles that will make him be able to see even better from far away. Very useful, but fashion mistake. Baermek says that he has asked Prescott to hold onto item which is hat that makes you look not like yourself. It is very expensive, but we have month to come up with money. This is probably good investment, given current situation in which entire world is hunting for us and we are very, very noticeable group of people. And Ingoria has now her new armor and weapons. She puts on armor and purrs as she looks at self in mirror. It is very nice looking, but I do not really understand purpose of armor. Better to stay light, move fast, and try not to end up same place as business end of weapon, I think.
We have decided not to visit with my contact until tonight when it is very late. After dinner I take my stuff, and go to Grandfather’s room. I knock and hear chair move inside slightly. “Enter,” he says, and I open door.
He is sitting at table, tinkering with something. I think maybe that it is Boris’s torture leg. Perhaps he is sharpening end, or making it rotate, or heat up or something. He puts down tool when I come in and studies me. “You are looking a bit better I think, Granddaughter,” he says in Elven, so I answer in same.
“Being clean helps,” I shrug. “And Baermek seems determined to use his magic on me, whether or not I want it, so there’s that. But, we can’t expect him to just keep casting it on me every goddamn morning. It’s not fucking sustainable.”
He gestures to notebook which is open on table next to where he is working. I can see pages which are covered in notes and formulas. He always is working this way – tinkering on one thing while mind is chewing on other problem. “I told you, I have some ideas. Once we get the lab set up, I think I can distill a formula which will help.”
I cross room to bed, where rest of Boris is laid out in pieces. I push main part of body aside and lay down. “Good. It feels like our enemies are coming out of the woodwork. I seriously need to get past this, so we can deal with the situation.”
Never really looking up from his work, he nods. “Yes, we need you at full capacity. Hand me that bit there,” he says, pointing across table. I sigh and get back up from bed.
“This?”
“No, that one there, the round one.” He sounds frustrated, which is fucking bullshit because there are maybe eight thousand pieces scattered all across table.
I pick it up and hand it to him, keeping table between us. He mumbles something that might have been, “thank you” then starts attaching it to leg. I watch him for another moment, remembering how I used to watch him work, back home in Novonikolayevsk, sometimes. There were few months there, where there was peace between us, and world seemed solid, comprehensible. It feels like really fucking long time ago.
I clear throat, startling him. “I need you to look at my back. It’s healed up enough now that you can see the pattern clearly.”
He puts down tools and I see him close eyes for moment to steel himself. Without saying word, he sits up in chair and looks at me, waiting. I turn around and take off shirt. It is quiet, but still I can hear him suck in his breath, and it is hard not to flinch at sound. I pull and twist at shirt that I hold in my hands – I cannot seem to help it. I am standing like that for hours, days maybe.
“You can put your shirt back on, Granddaughter,” he finally says. I do so, and turn to face him. He is slumped in chair, with back of hand pressed against mouth, thumb and finger rubbing together as he thinks.
“Do you recognize it,” I ask. Grandfather must know. I mean, why would Aleorman mark me like this if we are not even knowing what it means? What would be point if we could not understand why it was insult?
“No,” he says with reluctance. “No, I do not.”
“Fuck.”
“Indeed.”
There is silence for moment. “Grandfather…”
“Yes, Granddaughter?”
“Until… until we figure some of this shit out, maybe… maybe we should adopt increased security measures? It's stupid to be separated at night — we need to be able to respond immediately in the case of a threat. Perhaps, we… maybe, I… should stay here, where you can set your alarm?” I nod toward door where I have left my bag.
He blinks. “Of… of course, Granddaughter. Yes, increased security. That is… good idea. Let me make room for your things.” He recovers quickly from his surprise, and rushes around room, cleaning up projects he has scattered everywhere. He starts chattering away about improvements he is making to Boris, but he has look on his face I do not know how to interpret.

********

I will be honest – conversation with my contact is not productive one. Two in morning is usually excellent time for surprise interrogation, but it is not good time for me when Baermek’s spell is wearing off and sickness is back on me. Brain is working at maybe half speed, and I am afraid I am missing important things. Smart person would do this when they have full brain, but there is no way I am trying to explain to others why I can not do this right now, so I sneak into his bedroom as planned, leaving others outside. (And yes, I did drag entire bunch of assholes along, because right now I am thinking it is better they know where is contact, than that I go out without backup).
I make threats to him, he denies all knowledge. His story matches up with Truffle’s for what it is worth, but I am reserving judgment for now. He tells me things are tense with alliance, that people wonder why it is still plan when there is no Glow, but that Council is determined no matter what is current situation. Also, he mentions expansion into Freehold, which, believe me, is not thing I am forgetting. I tell him he can send me any new information at Lightkeepers. It is risk if he is one who betrayed me, but it turns out dead drops and secret meetings are also not very safe.
Next morning, GG brings us breakfast and many more questions. He is surprised to find out bad guy was Sylvan and asks if we think Aleorman was always Sylvan, or if original Aleorman was replaced by imposter. It is good question, but Baermek explains that even without disguise, Aleorman had burns on face. I do not bring up quality time I spent in room with him, but I am very much certain this is same asshole Grandfather originally dealt with. Years, he said…
Then GG asks about Nightshades. Most importantly he is wanting to know if there is something about them which is unique, something which he could maybe be tracking with magic, something like shuriken, maybe. Three spells, maybe four he says, and we could cover city. And yes, little man will cast spells for us, if we give him until tomorrow to prepare them.
This is incredible news! Grandfather and I had been stuck in thinking how we could find secret base of Nightshades in Freehold and here is GG giving it to us on silver platter. This is so amazing that I decide to reward GG with thing I know he has been fantasizing about for all this time…
We take him to engineering school and let him wander around all day. He takes the notes and makes the rubbings, while we work on cleaning up mess left behind when Sylvans died all over place, way back when. He is in heaven.
It is good day for all of us, I think. We make sure there are no more nasty fucking shadows and get living area cleaned out. We take disgusting heads out of bags and find far corner of College, where we stuff them under some rubble. We do not have chemicals yet for Grandfather’s lab, but we are very much wanting to keep these skulls for future decor purposes, so we will have to just let time do its thing. There will definitely be many more Sylvan skulls in future though, so I tell Grandfather we should order very big barrel of acid. And, in mean time, maybe some potpourri.
We spend night at Lightkeepers and next morning GG is ready to help us find lair of Nightshades. We figure out best route through city and walk around trying to see if he senses any shuriken. It takes hour or two, but he gets couple of hits. One is down in Bloodwater. Other is in area called “The Keel” which is kind of underbelly of midtown. It is where there are basements and cellars and things like that, that hang down from beneath buildings on street level. GG points to area near edge of disc.
Once we have general idea of location, we escort GG back to Library. Even though I want to be getting into base this very minute, it is important we keep little man safe. He makes protest, of course, but we ignore him. Once he is back, safe and sound, we make Bird invisible and he casts spell using one of scrolls we have, then flies around to see if he can get better idea on where exactly is locations. First he flies to Bloodwater, but it looks like what he has found is seller in street market, probably someone who picked up shuriken after fight on docks and is hoping to sell for little bit of cash. I wonder for moment if it has any of my blood on it. That is unpleasant thought.
Second, he flies around keel until he can say yes, this is building here. It is commercial building, with store in front that sells furniture (I take quick look through window but I do not think it matches aesthetic we are going for at College). There are apartments up above and some storage, with more storage down underneath. We find quiet alleyway in back where there is door that looks different from other doors on building. Ingoria tells us there is writing on it in language of thieves (what is this?! Why do I not know language of thieves?! I am fucking criminal, I should be knowing this!) It says “Stay out! This is our spot!.” Oh, this is why I do not know. We do not need to mark what is ours. People know what is ours.
But door seems promising. There are no traps on it, so we go in. Down some stairs is small hallway with more doors. Skreek points us to particular door where signal is coming from. There is lock on it, very good lock according to Ingoria, but she is able to open, and we go in. We find shuriken that has fallen between bed and wall and more in desk, hidden in lead-lined drawer. In kitchen is food, that is maybe week old or so, and in bedroom is closet with clothes of different style – worker, merchant, like that. Nothing else.
We decide to check room that is next door. This, also, is having excellent lock, but again Ingoria is able to open. It is similar living space, also with moldy food. We are starting to have look around when Skreek opens door and steps into back room.
BOOM comes huge fireball! Most of us are now on fire for short, but exciting, moment. But worse than being on fire, is that floor is rigged, and entire thing falls out from under us – down, down, down to water very far below. Ingoria is smart enough to not be in room. Rest of us grab whatever bits of wall are still there, and manage to hang on.
Even if were writing in Elven, I do not have words to tell you how I feel at this moment. I am hanging from broken bit of plaster, with just small toehold where little bit of floor was sheltered from blast by my body. I am all burnt up and in pain, and I watch in horror as answers I need fall into Darklake. I try to judge distance of drop, and even though I am so very good at falling, I think it is probably too far. But still, I consider it. If I do survive, then maybe I could salvage something. If not, well, does it really matter?
Skreek saves me from possible suicide though, by having similar thought, but also wings. He flies down to check, but when he returns he says all he could see was few bits of wood still floating on surface. He has made note of where wreckage sunk, but I have not much hope that anything will have survived fire, fall and flood.
It is with much desperation I suggest we look for wall safes or other hiding spots which may have escaped damage, but we do not have long to search because we know explosion will bring many people we do not wish to speak to. We find nothing. Even though asshole is dead, still it seems like Aleorman has won.
We exit building and are stopped by man who looks like maybe he is from furniture store in front. Baermek puts him to sleep and we leave him just inside door. Making our way from area, we see Scales of Justice and Fire Brigade running toward building, so we do best to look not at all suspicious, which is hard since we are covered in burn marks and soot. But law enforcement continues to demonstrate why they are force to be reckoned with in city of Freehold, and run right past us.

********

It is long night, and I feel worse and worse as hours pass until it is morning and Baermek again gives me benediction, like priest, only he is very much not priest. He is trying to be subtle with it each morning, tapping me as we pass in hallway or at breakfast buffet, and at first I am trying to avoid him, but, I will be honest, I am not trying so hard anymore. I know it has been not long since I had Glow, and I know bad effects do not go away for many months, if ever. But still, every time I open eyes from meditation, I think for moment maybe I am feeling bit better. Then, sickness hits in big rush, and I am reduced to counting minutes until I get magical groping by fuzzy old guy. This is not high point in my life.
I do not have to wait long this morning. He rests hand on shoulder as soon he sees me and I do not have it in me to even argue at this point. “Thank you,” I mutter, and words hurt almost as much as withdrawal. Almost, but not quite. He is at least smart enough to move away and not say anything.
Today we head back to Sylvan camp, and from there to city of Yehlan, and then somehow to Bird Island. Now that I am feeling so much better, I have to admit, I am looking forward to this at least little bit. I mean, we will be seeing new and exciting places, and killing new and exciting people, and probably many of them are being Sylvan. We are going to place nobody but birds get to go to, and… we are taking CAT lady with us. I mean, we are putting bloodthirsty cat among pigeons, for real. I cannot wait to see what kind of shit is going to happen when we are getting there, and Skreek is introducing us to family. Do you think he said in letters home that one of his new friends is Cat?
(Answer is yes. Yes, he did. Look, there is no way he can send letters to island; they are all just sitting there in his bag. So, of course I have been reading them! Are you kidding me about this shit? Do you think every time Grandfather and I are off huddled away sharing secrets, that always it is some kind of criminal plotting? No! Sometimes we are just catching up on latest installment of Dear Mama Bird. And can I just say that I am not impressed with Bird education system? Skreek’s spelling is so very terrible. Really, I am being shocked!)
Quickly, supplies are gathered, goodbyes are made, and we go to porter room at Lightkeepers. We do not know if maybe Sylvans will be waiting for us on other side so we have weapons out and Grandfather is ready to change setting on porter to bring us back here if is ambush.
And…. zzzzzattttt!
Screaming. In Elven.
That would be Grandfather – swear phrase about incontinent donkey is definitely one of his go-tos. I leap toward sound, stick out and ready for beating down Sylvan assholes, but there is nobody here except us. Grandfather, still screaming, is staggering around for step or two, dragging his leg, before falling over.
Huh.
Ok, ok, I run to old man and what I see is, well, it is being really fucking nasty. It looks like there was maybe campfire ring that was made inside porter circle, and when we came, Grandfather and stone from ring decided they were going to try to be in same place at same time. Now it is Grandfather’s foot, but it is also rock. Apparently this is very painful thing to happen.
I glance around porter room. It looks like Sylvans holed up here after we hit camp. There is evidence of maybe dozen or so who stayed here for several days. There are barricades and things like that. But it looks like they are gone now. I try not to let Grandfather’s screams take away from my pleasure at thought of them being so scared of us, and hiding in here like cowards. Also, I am very happy that they do not seem to have figured out we have cryptoporter – incident with fire ring looks like lucky accident, not sabotage that is on purpose. Even idiot Sylvans will figure it out eventually, but longer it takes them, easier it is for us to be making total fools of them.
While others go through things Sylvans have left behind, and I am sitting next to Grandfather saying “there, there”, Skreek is made invisible and goes flying around to see what it what. And what he finds is that they have fucked off. Camp is deserted, some supplies are taken, wagon is gone. Behind them they leave many graves, and place where Baermek wrote “Danger” in blood is burnt down to ground. Excavations also are abandoned, and outside of engineering school they leave big booby trap of logs and rocks that maybe would fall in and block door if we were stupid enough to open it. I see unpleasant manual labor in our future, and it only makes me hate Sylvans even little bit more.
Grandfather is still crying and carrying on, so there is nothing for it but to go back to Freehold and take him to healer temple to fix his stupid foot. It costs me even more gold and purse is now very, very empty. This is depressing state of affairs. I am going to have to be knocking over general mercantiles or shaking down bakers for protection money at this rate.
Hey! I have idea! Maybe I could beat shit out of people for prize money! That is much better use of talents! Hmmmm... I will have to be looking for underground fighting ring, maybe even at Yehlan. Freehold might be little bit too much exposure… although maybe… maybe, it is time I am looking to catch her eye. Is it better I track her down, or let her come to me?
But, I will have to worry about all that later. Grandfather is fixed up (everything except his dignity, which is beyond power of healers to restore) and we head back to Thanedell, and out into my old friend, which is jungle. It is week long hike to Yehlan, out under hot sun. I am overjoyed.

********

Thing about marching through jungle, with nobody but same old assholes to talk to, is you get some thinking done. And thing I am thinking about most is how they knew I was going to be on that dock. That is question I would very much like answer to. And one part in particular that I am stuck on – how did Truffle know to find Grandfather at Lightkeepers? We have not been having contact with him since returning to Underdark. Grandfather does not know either, so it is good thing I have sending stone in pocket, and clever gnome holding other half.
I think for moment about what to say, then whisper into stone so others will not hear, “Hey, cutie. I have important question. Do you have way to send message to angry dwarf? Ask him how he knew we were at Lightkeepers.”
GG responds immediately. “I will contact him and tell you tomorrow. I hope you are feeling better, and I hope you have killed more Sylvans.”
I think we are bad influence on GG. And damn, it really is kinda hot.
Next morning I hear his squeaky little voice in head just after dawn, as I sit watching over sleeping assholes. “Scrimshaw told me contact said you’d been seen at Library, and having dinner with "a shadowless librarian gnome". Is that all people notice about me?”
“Only until you talk and show them how brilliant you are.” I respond. “Or you take your pants off. Thanks GG, this is good information. Dream of me.” He probably can not hear me wink, but I am doing it anyway.
Well, this is explanation, yes, but I think I will be going back to potion shop when we are returned to Freehold and dig little bit deeper with questions I have for my friend.
Seen by who? I am wondering.

********

Nothing happens for rest of day, except excessive sweating. Then on third day, as we are passing out of jungle into forest of pine trees, we see weak, old man sitting at fork in road looking sad and not at all suspicious. He and his dog named Tadeo were out looking for reagents, and dog ran off after rabbit. Skreek goes flying off looking for dog and then (you know what is coming, don’t you?) old man turns into enormous blue guy who starts flying around and nearly kills us all with big blast of ice (which, given how hot and sweaty I am, is maybe not worst way to go). Also his dog isn’t really dog. It is cat with six legs and tentacles that come out of its shoulders and is very hard to hit. So, that is… great.
It is tough fight, especially when Bird who is so good with bow is still flapping his way back toward us. Blue guy stays high above my head, so I am stuck hitting freaky cat-dog thing for most of time. When finally it is dead, I am looking around me wondering if I could maybe climb tree and jump on blue guy but, it turns out, I don’t have to. Baermek says to me, “Alyona, remember the story of the runaway,” and I do. It is strangest thing when he does that. Remember story of kid who liked to eat asparagus he will say, then all of sudden you can do crazy trick where you stab someone with stalk of asparagus through their eyeball.
Remember story of runaway. How could I forget this story? I spent entire time he was telling it to us wondering if he was fucking with me. It was story about me and Grandfather. Oh, he did not use our names, and details were maybe tiniest bit different, but it was us. And thing is, I have not told anyone about my time at Academy. I mean, sometimes I will mention I learned this at Academy, or I learned that at Academy, or You are pathetic weakling who would not survive one day at Academy. But not details about it. So I do not know where this story comes from. Does he somehow know, or is it just guess? Is he trying to tell me something, or just taunting me?
Only thing I can say for certain – he is fucking asshole.
So I remember his stupid fucking story and how “runaway child” all of sudden disappeared and then reappeared with her Grandfather up on roof, and then bang! I disappear and reappear up above head of big blue guy. It is little bit, how you say?… disorienting?... but I manage to bring staff around and give him major whack on his head. Very quick, my feet touch down on his chest, and then I am leaping backward, so I can kick him right between eyes. I do little twisting backflip as I fall, and land just half second after big blue corpse crashes to ground.
Question: Does little butt waggle victory dance I do detract from how badass I am?
Answer: Not even little bit.

Report Date

12 Aug 2022