Episode #13: Teeth, Vines, and Claws

From the Journal of Edrathior, Eladrin of Alfheim

My strange companions sleep again and, as I often do, I give thought to what it must be like for them to surrender so completely to darkness and the chaos of dreams. If I was able to follow their example, I can only image the destruction that would result. My time of rest is a conscious exercise to bring order to myself and I need that order more than ever.  The itch to remove my gauntlet that started on my cursed arrival to this isle has grown stronger since the night the change overtook me again and my powers increased. I believe the chaos glamour hiding it has either failed or been temporarily unable to contain my new power. I have noticed before that the spell grew thin for days after such an increase and I noticed both Gregor and Bartholomew staring at my left hand. Whether they saw the gauntlet, my hand, or my true hand, I do not know. Even so, my new power proved useful in the battles that followed, but it took all of the strength of will I possessed to keep from inflicting harm on those who fight with me.

As I have been taught, to visualize order, even in the past, leads to greater control of chaos. I let my meditative focus shift to memories of the battle with Razamere, for that is when, as my mentor often said, “things got interesting.” The great beast seemed somehow “right” and my instincts prevented me from attacking it immediately, despite the many, many teeth it possessed. With the cultists and their drake mounts dispatched, the giant crocodile turned its attention to us. Its attack was vicious and was followed by a disquieting roar that seemed to take form as unnaturally large biting beetles flew from its maw creating chaos.  I no longer suffered from doubts as to its intention.  I could see Lady Penitence had collected herself and was racing to engage our cold-blooded foe.  Gruff let fly with arrows and Gregor smashed two of the insects. I could see a flash of light from Elody and then the beast clamped its jaws onto the armor of her right arm. Bartholomew once again showed a bravery unexpected from such a childlike form—and a tremendous lack of wisdom—as he jumped upon the beast’s back and stabbed wildly. It let go of Elody and wheeled away from the shore, carrying Bartholomew, who now rid the beast holding desperately onto his blade that had sunk deeply into flesh and vines. Truly, that is a memory I will hold to my end.

I splashed through water up to my waist as I hurried to get closer to my companions. Razamere roared again. Vile insects once more made his roar manifest and flew from his maw.  One particularly nasty specimen landed on my chest. I was able to knock it into the water, but not before it had left me with a bleeding gash. The fight continued in a blur. I dispatched my insect opponent and joined my comrades on shore battling the giant Crocodile and its minions. Gruff’s arrows continued to fall. I could see several in the croc’s hide. Ecaris crushed one of the biting beetles with a single blow, but its jaws locked onto him. I could see Bartholomew suffer the same fate after killing one that had climbed up and bit him. Lady Penitence, who had reached us, had continually been harassing opponents from afar. But, as she passed me, skipping past my bug’s attacks, she faded from sight with the words, “It’s your problem now.”

Gregor smashed out several of Razamere’s teeth with a blur of blows, more of Gruff’s arrows landed, and yet another flash of holy light emanated from Elody, illuminating it from within. It was Bartholomew, though, who had the final blow as he stabbed down once more and, with a shudder, Razamere slumped and was still.

A well placed arrow dispatched the last of its bugs and Gruff yelled “Get it out of the water!”

As my friends struggled mightily to pull the beast out of the water, Gruff’s warning had instilled in me a sense of urgency and I unleashed a thunderous force that lifted the creature onto the beach. I, however, had forgotten to call a warning to my companions. Instead, I found myself uttering apologies, as water poured off of them and Elody was knocked off her feet.

What comes next I find hard to review in my mind—would prefer to forget, but that is a luxury I do not have.  

Gruff began to eat the rapidly decomposing crocodile. Even as his teeth sunk into what had been meat, it began to unmake into a foul-smelling algae-like substance not unlike the scum of the pond itself. Soon, all that was left of the beast was its bones and a green mass of vegetation. Gruff and Penitence searched the remains, but if it had ever swallowed anything of use, it was now probably deep in the pond.

After a brief rest, Gruff moved on to the sandy cave entrance that we passed to do battle. I followed in the hopes of finding anything that we could use on our journey. Quival whispered to those nearby: “Long ago, a human wizard bottled the language of the Olman when he visited the Isle of Dread to gift it to them. He entered this cave and never exited.” This seemed to intrigue some of us. In the Feywild, if a name can be stolen, surely a language can be bottled.

Elody and Ecaris stayed on the beach with the remains of Razamere while the rest of us entered the cave. Bones were scattered in the sand leading to the entrance of the cave and, as we entered, it took long moments to adjust to the darkness. Quival brightened in his glass globe until he provided light as brightly as torch's. I held him out, Penitence used her own torch, which I lit, and we advanced.

The cave turned and we could see ominous openings and cracks in the walls that continued past a portcullis that was open perhaps a foot.  We looked beyond the bars and could see a skull seated upon a tripod of bones. Jewels glinted in the skull’s eyes and greed glinted in Bartholomew’s.

Elody had joined us, mentioning something about a creature—I later I realized she meant the "phanaton," as the lamia had named it—that had appeared, about how cute it was the way it held its little spear in its little furry paws and that it was concerned with what we were doing. We continued on, not quite knowing what she was talking about. I had to move quickly before Bartholomew endangered himself again. Trusting in my ability to fey step back, should the portcullis close, I began to snake under it.

The others approached to hold the heavy metal up, but didn’t have the chance. Vines shot from the holes in the walls.  The vines flowed with obvious intent and formed two humanoid-shaped plant creatures. Penitence called to the bipedal masses of writhing vines, “Who do you serve? I am a servant of the Raven Queen! Do you know her?”  It seemed odd, but she must have recognized—and hoped to exploit—a kinship with them.

Despite her words, Gruff fired an arrow into one of them with impressive speed. Gregor lunged through the bars and tore into one with his bare hands. Gruff, Bartholomew, and I were grabbed and held fast by a spray of vines, which shot from what were now writhing masses of ill intent. My escape readied, I immediately appeared ten feet back behind the gate and my comrades.

Elody called for Ecaris.  Gruff yelled, “Burn me,” and desiring to be helpful, I released a burning spray that left his hair smoking, but weakened the vines' grasp. Calling on my inner reserves, I also released a thunderous burst of force, which unfortunately merely echoed down the tunnel. I would not later share with them the joy I felt using my powers without restraint. Elody was able to glare at me disapprovingly and simultaneously burn one of the horrific vine creatures with a holy light that left it visibly reduced.

All working together in what had rapidly become second nature, the vine creatures were cut, pounded, burned, dissolved, scorched and blasted. But victory wouldn't come too easily as I heard the distant sound of steps and the portcullis rose. Perhaps “steps” was the wrong word.  It was the approaching sound of meaty boulders hitting stone. Out from the depths of the tunnel emerged a troll. Nine feet of green rage and sinew and, before I could react, he was upon me. 

He swung with a mighty claw, but as it connected, I was as mist—fey stepping safely back. Again the gifts of my heritage had moved me from harm's way. This time, I was able to use the troll's own strength against him and send his physical energies back, in the form of a psychic lash that burned across his simple mind.  But I was weakened for it and it would be some time before I could attempt that again.

“Ecaris!” I yelled as I advanced again spraying flames, burning the last vined creature and the troll.

The troll bellowed.  The flame seemed to enrage it. Trolls loathe fire and acid, for they suppress their regenerative powers.

I could see light again burst from Elody, dazing the troll and knocking it to the ground. Once again, Bartholomew leapt upon our opponent. He buried his knife in the troll’s head, wrenching it out again in a gout of blood. A lesser being would have been felled, but the troll just grew angrier. At the same time, Penitence focused her power on the vine creature, while Gregor, in a flurry of blows, staggered both the troll and the last vine creature.

With what seemed to be a response to Penitence, the vine creature sounded an awful mix of rustling, scraping and wind sounds, “Joinnnn ussss daughterrrrr of deathhhh…”

With a bolt of pure chaos, I obliterated the last vine creature that faced me and staggered back letting out one last call of “ECARIS!”

Bartholomew, still entangled by vines, continued to struggle and stab, but the troll grabbed him, whipping him about as a shield. A fiery blast from Penitence struck both of them, and the troll fell to the ground a final time, dropping the smoldering halfling.  I continued to bathe the troll in flames, ensuring that it stayed dead.

To my relief, Gruff did not attempt to consume any of the roasted troll.  Its noxious odor was too much, even for him.

From behind us, Ecaris approached saying, “What’s going on?”

Watching these great warriors sleep, I can’t help but be thankful for their unique powers: Elody supporting us in our obvious folly with healing and disapproving gazes; Penitence’s dark power (in her, I recognize a familiar conflict); Gregor’s mastery of weaponless combat and his sharp wit; Bartholomew’s bravery, greed and sharp knives; Gruff’s connection to the natural world and his many arrows; and then Ecaris—Ecaris, a powerful knight if I’ve ever met one. Something seemed different in him during that battle. Somehow he seemed “not there” and “there” at the same time. I will have to watch him.

My companions are formidable, but if I see any hint that the grey-robed ones have somehow followed me to this Isle, I will leave my new friends for their own safety. I will not let any more die protecting me.