A Tangled Web

The next installment of Lirael Glimmereye's journal as he progresses as a Yuan-ti Cleric of the Twilight Domain and Echo Knight. Today's he writes about a surprise meeting with Baldur in Seasonal and thwarting Hassan's efforts exact the Shadowed One's revenge. An exciting evening of role playing and adventure. 

Previous Lirael Journal entries

A Sword, An Alliance, Shadows, and Sacrifice - A Tangled Web

After getting Scathach upstairs in the tavern with Jax we quickly made her comfortable on the bed. After Jax departed, I made it clear to both Landriss and the Princess that the decisions ahead were at her discretion, given her role as the King's representative. I emphasized that my input should be regarded as mere suggestions or potential courses of action for her consideration, not me questioning her in any way. 

Landriss, in response, arched an eyebrow, expressing his surprise at this shift in my demeanor. To this, I gently reminded him that the divine forces had woven alterations into the fabric of my life, leading me down new paths of understanding and honing perspectives that differed from my past experiences. Now, armed with the wisdom of an experienced soldier, my outlook on many matters had evolved, and my actions would reflect this transformation.

Our discourse with the Princess swiftly delved into the considerations surrounding Scathach's safety. The prospect of taking her to the Palace was promptly dismissed by both the Princess and Landriss; the presence of too many guards harboring a deep-seated animosity towards Scathach, accumulated over years of enmity, made it an imprudent choice. Inverness and the Magic Academy emerged as an alternative, albeit one with its own set of risks. However, even in that fortress, safety was not guaranteed. 

The Princess, weighing the variables, concluded that Seasonal, with its ready contingent of loyal monster hunters devoted to the King, provided the most secure haven for Scathach and Jeanine. Consequently, we opted to remain in Seasonal, guided by the Princess's decision affirming it as the safest sanctuary for our companions.

Landriss inquired about our potential involvement in the Kolrabi Games. Despite his keen interest, I found myself discussing the priority of safeguarding Scathach, Jeanine, and the Princess over partaking in the games. Personally, my inclination leaned towards the former. The Princess, however, found amusement in my reservations, assuring us of the safety measures in place for someone of her stature and expressing confidence in the security of the others. She brushed off my concerns, asserting that participating in the Games would etch lasting memories in our lives. Though my perspective leaned towards caution, the Princess, for the present, decreed that we should seize this brief opportunity for enjoyment, provided circumstances remained unchanged.

We then informed her that during the confrontation, when Landriss severed the threads connecting Scathach to the Shadowed One, the latter's left ring finger was amputated and fell to the ground as he executed a swift teleportation as he pressed his attack with Ice Spike. In our urgency to usher the unconscious Scathach back indoors, we didn't take the time to retrieve the severed appendage. The Princess asserted that she had not observed any of the ethereal threads we mentioned and directed us to investigate if the finger still lay outside.

Upon stepping outside with Landriss, I invoked detect magic, discerning the pervasive enchantments adorning many of the others there for the Games nearby. In the vicinity where our clash with the Shadowed One had unfolded, a conspicuous aura of dark magic lingered. Hastening towards the source, we encountered a cloaked figure stooping to retrieve an object. Upon standing, it became apparent that the item in its possession was the severed finger.

The figure, adorned in a dark-colored cloak, possessed forest-green eyes, and exhibited a greenish tinge. As my detect magic gaze enveloped it, a pronounced radiance of Fey Magic, notably concentrated in the central torso, became evident. Standing tall at over seven feet, with dark-hued attire beneath the cloak, the figure unfurled an additional set of arms and it's hobgoblin-like face could be seen under the hood. It dawned on us that we were face to face with the entity others had previously described — none other than Baldur.

Baldur - How does he fit into our future
Image by Microsoft Bing AI Image Creator 2023

In a composed and almost casual manner, he displayed the finger before our eyes and proceeded to guide it towards the center of his body, where a mouth materialized, and he ingested the severed appendage. A rather distasteful spectacle, to say the least!

We braced ourselves for the imminent confrontation, well aware that we've been forewarned about its unwinnable nature. Nevertheless, we are determined to glean whatever insights we can, hoping to disrupt some of Baldur's plans. He gestures toward us, stating, "I'm not here to engage in combat unless I have to, but we do need to talk. As a gesture of goodwill, I'll bring your companion here. I believe his name is Varrin, and he has been 'enjoying' the company of my coven while you've been wandering around Crannog."

Landriss retrieves the baseball mitt he recently acquired, and a lively exchange ensues for a few minutes, revolving around themes of friendship and trust. Before our eyes, Baldur places the mitt into the mouth on his body and consumes it, alluding that his allegiance with Gantz as a mere transaction, devoid of loyalty. In a swift transformation, Baldur alters his appearance, resembling something closer to a hobgoblin — a less conspicuous and intimidating figure.

Abruptly, Varrin materializes at Baldur's side, appearing worse for wear, as if he had very long night indeed. His disheveled attire and three fresh smooch marks on his neck tell a tale of revelry and, perhaps, unexpected circumstances. Initially resisting with vocal protests, Varrin's demeanor shifts upon realizing his surroundings and seeing us. He joins our group, fixing a glare on Baldur. Later he tells us a tale of wonder and disgust as only a true bard would do.

Baldur then unveils a sword within its sheath, directing his attention to me and declaring, "I've been looking for you, it has been foretold you should have it. If the prophecies that the Hags have foretold are correct, you will be needing it soon, I think," before tossing it in my direction. I instinctively catch it. The hilt is adorned with a thorn weave, emitting an almost sinister greenish glow. As I catch the sword, a palpable sense of magic and power courses through it.

"Would the three of you relax a little and have a pie with me?" Baldur gestures toward a quaint corner shop run by halflings. "We have a lot to talk about, and not much time to do so. It would be a shame for you to attack me before I have a chance to speak to you, which, in turn, would quickly cause your death."

Reluctantly, yet wondering why he hasn't disposed of us yet, we agree to sit and have pie with him at the shop, seizing the opportunity to gather more information. Despite the lack of threatening moves from Baldur, the atmosphere remains charged with an unspoken tension. He put 10 gp on the counter and asked us to order, as if it were an everyday occurrence for us to sit and talk with him. Baldur tells the shop keeper to keep the change and to not let others bother us until we stand up to leave. With a smile the shopkeeper only nodded, while looking greedily at the pile of gold coins.

He starts by feeding the pie he ordered to the mouth in the center of his body—an unsettling sight that I can't fathom getting used to. In discomfort, I shift my gaze towards the Inn, observing Princess Helena returning with what appears to be an Eladrin elf. Blossoming flowers adorn the tips of his ears, resembling the medic she had described and promised to secure for Scathach.

Baldur then delves into his discourse. "Long ago, this world was wrought with war. And during that time when King Garland fought King Behenney, and those with Behenney warned him not to awaken the Horned King... but he did, despite their protests. He awakened a beast like any other, just more intelligent than most. His reality is sealed in the blackened moon, and there he rules." He continues, sharing more of his observations regarding the world of Crannog.

Following this, Baldur poses a question: which world would we choose to live? Virran envisions a world with birds and rolling green hills. Lindross expresses a commitment to remaining on Crannog. I refrain from answering immediately. It's not that I dislike Crannog, but my adventures in the Feywild have revealed that I don't believe Crannog is where I am destined to remain. I have always felt out of place here, never quite fitting in, regardless of my efforts. Perhaps the Feywild would be my choice, but before I answer.

Baldur looks strangely at me like he had been reading my thoughts, then reveals that he has been in Crannog for approximately forty years. Initially, his goals aligned with Gantz's – a desire for more magic, substantial rewards, extra gold, and uninterrupted workspaces. Creating a world where Gantz held sway seemed beneficial to his wants and needs. However, the discovery of the Underlilly, or whether it found Gantz, marked a turning point. Things twisted, and the notion of reuniting the two Terra's became divergent from Baldur's original intentions.

We extend an invitation to Baldur to join our quest against Gantz, the Shadowed One. After a brief contemplation, he questions, "What's in it for me? You basically have nothing to offer me that Gantz could not."

Landriss proposes, "We could offer you friendship and companionship." Baldur scoffs, remarking, "We could sing Kumbaya all around the campfire." I interject, "That is not friendship; friendship is earned, freely given, not something to be taken for granted." Baldur raises an eyebrow, conceding, "Sometimes you people do surprise me."

A moment of quiet ensues, broken when I inquire about the purpose behind his gift of the sword, particularly given its evident power. He cryptically replies that it is a part of my destiny, a tool to be used if I so choose. 

He elaborates on the blade's nature, stating, "The blade is one of three. The first one, the black moon sickle, is also crafted from the Horned King. It is the original, but its time has passed. The second is the black blade wielded by the dark knight in the Dreamveil, made from Horned King's rib. The green blade you hold is called Ogma and this one is the last one crafted from a piece of the Horned King. It poisons either the body or the mind and after each hit, Ogma will ask you which you choose. However, there is a retribution to the wielder; they also take the same damage, albeit a lesser amount, when striking their adversary. It is just another tool, and like any weapon, this one is just a bit deadlier. It will kill, but at a cost to the one using it. Which causes the wielder to be more judicious about using it."

He talks briefly about Varrin and my time in the Dreamveil and that he saw another in the room with us besides the ones we saw. That Hassan didn't react to it meant that either he didn't see it either, which was unlikely or it was Gantz himself watching things unfold. And yes, he told us. “I have been keeping track of your little party, until you split up and started teleporting around this world.” So, there are limits to his ability to track us.

After responding to our queries, Baldur added, "Something I do require - a woman veiled in snowy white, dwelling in the Myst Woods. We can delve more into that matter shortly. Regarding the issue with the Treants in the Salamander Swamp, created as an outcome of an ancient battle, I was hired to perform the Gravetide spell. Reflecting on it, I find myself torn between the perspectives on necromancy and resurrection prevalent in this realm.

Landriss chimed in, "Is the result of resurrection or necromancy the person they were before they died, or something else? That would be the question."

Baldur acknowledged, "That is part of my contemplation. While I have been well compensated to perform this ritual, I am waiting to see how Gantz progresses on his other goals, particularly combining the two Terra's into one, and where I fit into this uncertain tapestry. The killing of all things on both planes of Terra holds no appeal to me and does not add to the legacy I will leave to the universe. The three hags, whom Virran has had the pleasure of meeting, prophesied that you three are part of my fate and future. That's why I choose not to kill you outright if you must know."

As the halfling waitress approached to inquire if we needed anything else, Baldur abruptly seized her lower jaw and tore it off. We sprang to our feet, appalled by this unwarranted violence. He calmly informed us that it was one of Hassan's clones. We watched as it melted into a puddle of mud and wetness. The real waitress emerged from around the corner, asking the same question. Baldur explained, "He forgets that I can smell these Hassan clones, and where there is one, there will be many more."

At this juncture, I inquire about the whereabouts of The Blade of Selves. He begins to respond, "That blade is probably..." and swiftly adds, "I see the assassin going into the tavern now. If you want to save your Princess, Healer, the two wolves, and patrons of the Tavern, you need to get there as soon as you can."

Without hesitation, I grasp both Landriss and Varrin, then teleport to the room in the tavern where we left Scathach and Jeanine, and likely where the Princess and the Shaman healer are.

We arrive and promptly brief the Princess on the unfolding situation. Noticing that Scathach is conscious and Jeanine is there with her, smiling. Landriss heads to the door, and I position my echo beside him. Suddenly, a hand bursts through the door, narrowly missing Landriss. He opens the door, initiating the battle against Hassan.

Every time we strike him, he manages to split off another clone of himself. The battle oscillates for several rounds, with everyone but the healer engaging in melee or spell casting. Scathach and Jeanine transform into werewolves, attacking Hassan or a clone. The tide of the battle turns against us, prompting me to draw the sword that Baldur bestowed upon me. When my echo strikes Hassan, the sword queries what kind of damage to inflict—body or psychic. It harms him significantly, but as Baldur cryptically warned, I also suffer damage. Despite this, it isn't enough to deter me from using the sword again. I strike once more, this time dealing psychic damage, which hurts him greatly, and less so to myself.

We manage to kill several clones and severely injure Hassan. Eventually, we encircle him, which seems to limit his ability to create new clones. However, as the battle continues to unfold, openings appear, and he generates two more clones. One of them launches a special attack against Jeanine—a death strike that lands successfully. Jeanine falls, and the clone dissolves into a puddle. My echo dispatches the other clone.

At this juncture, we hear Hassan mutter to himself, "This is not what I expected, and it's time to leave." He instantly teleports to the first floor and hastily exits the tavern causing mayhem and wounding several patrons in his wake as a distraction. Varrin declares his intention to stop Hassan and promptly teleports away as well.

As Jeanine lay there, black ichor started emanating from her nose and mouth. Believing she might be returning as something under Hassan's control, Landriss, witnessing this, brought his staff down critically on her just as she began to cough and open her eyes. She had fought off death, but Landriss had inadvertently killed Jeanine.

Witnessing this, Scathach grew enraged, grappled Landriss and threw him off the balcony to the floor below. She hurried towards the stairs, where I had positioned myself in an attempt to follow Hassan, pausing for me to move. I stood my ground, yelling at her in an attempt to break through her rage, that Landriss had acted in the heat of the moment, thinking it was the right move to protect us and Jeanine from becoming a pawn for Hassan.

There I stood between her and the stairs and while I understood her rage. I knew that Landriss had acted with good intentions, and I was ready to defend him if she tried to go through me or leapt over the railing to pursue him. The Princess intervened, wrapping her arms around Scathach, causing her to pause and lower her claws slightly. Confused but unwilling to harm the Princess, Scathach hesitated long enough for Landriss to misty step back up and attempt to clarify his actions. Though still enraged, she wasn't actively attempting to harm Landriss, and the Princess continued holding her.

Landriss spoke audibly to Ice Spike so that Scathach could hear him. He offered whatever was necessary, even his life energy, to bring Jeanine back. Kneeling by Jeanine, he placed the pommel on her chest, sliding his bare hand up Ice Spike's blade. I could tell he was communicating with the sword, and I saw Jeanine covered in a light-filled watery substance.

Then she coughed...

Landriss had successfully implored Ice Spike to resurrect Jeanine, rectifying the unintended harm he had caused. The sword agreed to the arrangement, and he willingly sacrificed a portion of his life force to bring Jeanine back to life.

As we collectively sighed in relief, Landriss momentarily passed out, and Scathach hurried to lift Jeanine. When he regained focus, I reassured him, saying, "Landriss, you did the right thing—both times."

He simply looked up tiredly and simply said, "Thank you."

Glancing down at the eerily quiet first floor of the tavern, we observed overturned chairs, scattered tables, a body, and wide-open doors. Evidence of Hassan’s departure and the subsequent hasty emptying of the tavern. Outside, amidst the commotion of yelling and screaming, we could hear Varrin casting spells. Then, a sudden silence followed, and Varrin entered through the main door, hollering and swearing that Hassan had managed to escape.

Though not the result we had wanted, we had survived a pitched battle against a very powerful assassin and thwarted his mission to either return or kill Scathach and Jeanine. Then if possible kill the Princess and us all in one fell swoop. After all we were just annoyances that needed to be snuffed out. All within his ability, but something that didn't happen.

After talking for a bit, and winding down from the heat of the battle, I've found a quiet corner. The tavern is now quickly refilling with patrons telling stories of how brave they were when the black cloaked figure had run though. The watch has come in and removed the body of the person Hassan killed on his way out. While I quietly watch these things unfold, I’ve had time to jot down these events and will reflect on their greater meaning later. Our lives seem to be careening out of control too frequently throughout this day. I recognize the need for some rest to recover and recharge, at least until tomorrow. A good night's sleep might be what we all require.

However, such respite may not be in the cards, especially if Landriss, Varrin, and the others decide to partake in the Kolrabi Games Monster Hunt later this afternoon. Ah, no rest for the weary, it seems. Nonetheless, writing in you, my dear journal, has provided me with the time to contemplate the events since our arrival in Seasonal.

We find ourselves at a crossroads, confronted with several pressing decisions and yet I believe that the actions we choose here this afternoon will have greater impacts than just our own lives than we know:

1. Participation in the Kolrabi Games: My inclination leans against it at the moment. There are far weightier matters that demand our attention, at least in my view. I will follow the majority vote, but reluctantly if that is not our choice. The three of us are destined to remain together and I will not willingly split us apart anymore than we have to.

2. Safety in Seasonal: Following the encounter with Hassan and our meeting with Baldur, Seasonal's presumed safety is now very much in question. Perhaps a reassessment of our options is warranted.

3. Trust in Baldur: The question of how much we can trust Baldur lingers and will linger for a long time to come. While I harbor no illusions about his moral alignment, he seems to possess a peculiar form of honor, though what his end goals might be, I do not yet know. I suspect he views Gantz's plan as unpalatable, presenting an opportunity for a reluctant alliance. Strange times, indeed, forge even stranger alliances.

4. The Enigma of Ogma: Baldur's choice to bestow upon me the powerful named sword Ogma raises questions. Why me? Is it cursed, akin to the ominous black blade? What awaits if I choose to attune to it?

5. Baldur's Intentions: Pondering Baldur's words and actions again, it appears he holds a complicated stance. Despite his malevolence, he seems averse to the catastrophic end of worlds. The ability to cast the Gravetide ritual in the Salamander Swamp is a testament to his power, yet his reluctance to use it raises intriguing questions. Could he be a reluctant ally, which might be more palatable than an overt adversary? I'm curious about his perception of friendship and whether it aligns with my own - though I believe it probably does not.

With these considerations swirling in my mind and time slipping away, I shall take respite, if only briefly. I'll rest until we're called together to chart our next course of action.