48: Horvan

[Start from the beginning]
The villa seemed quiet as Vardala headed downstairs from her room. After the events of the previous night, she had slept in, and was surprised to discover how high the sun had been in the sky when she finally awoke. By this time, she would normally expect the villa to be bustling with morning activity, but there was no sign of anyone. Perhaps they were outside, clearing everything up.

Suppressing a yawn, and running her fingers through her hair, she walked into the villa's main living room. It looked like everyone else had finished their breakfast, and there wasn't that much left, even for a gnome's smaller stomach. She picked up an apple that had been left over, and took a bite out of it, as somebody quietly stepped into the room behind her.

"Can I get you something? There's plenty in the kitchen."

She turned, to see Horvan standing there, polite and self-effacing, as always. "No, it's all right – I can wait until lunch. Perhaps it is a little late for breakfast, anyway."

"Of course."

"Where are the others, anyway?"

"They're all out, clearing up, or just checking on things. I believe Lady Tarissa is at the temple, and Calleslyn has gone to check on her friend from the scroll shop. I'm not sure about Almandar and Dolrim; they didn't say."

45: Portal

[Start from the beginning]

The fireball had had the desired effect, sowing confusion among the cloaked figures conducting the ceremony. Calleslyn had, at least for the moment, saved the intended victim from her fate, but that hardly meant that the danger was over. As she had said to Dolrim just moments before, there were too many of them, and it was likely that at least some were capable of fighting back. Valmor certainly would be, and it was unlikely he was alone.

She had had no choice but to attack when she did, but she and Dolrim were heavily outnumbered. She just had to hope that the sudden explosion and magical assault had evened up the odds a little.

"I'm going to try and protect her," she told the dwarf. After all, the conspirators were surely still desperate to complete their ritual, and that would mean taking their sacrifice back. The woman was a nun, helpless against them at the best of times. Even if she tried running, the building was surrounded by a ring of undead, and that wouldn't end well. So Calleslyn had to do something.

26: Skort

[Start from the beginning]

Vardala stepped warily into the back room of the inn, closing the door carefully behind her, as she had been instructed. The room was dark, heavy shutters closed across the only window. Outside, the sun would already be dipping towards the horizon, but the intent was not just to keep light out but to stop passers-by from looking in.

The rogue made out a shape standing next to the unlit fireplace, and could sense its eyes on her. She said nothing, waiting for the figure to make the first move. After a long silence, it did so, reaching forward across a low table to pull back a shutter from some metal object placed there.

A whitish-blue light spilled across the table, shining into her face. She had seen such things before; a metal box with a narrow shutter at one side, and a rod inside enchanted with a long-lasting light spell. It was safer than a regular lantern, and almost never needed refuelling. Because of its shape, the light poured out in only one direction, and the figure standing behind it was more in the shadow than ever, now that her eyes could not adjust to the darkness.

“The prodigal returns,” said the figure, his voice calm, with a rich timbre.

14: Fentik

Vardala had been in something of quandary since it became clear that the adventurers would be exploring the passages beneath the city. The magical eye that she had found on their last expedition could prove tremendously useful now. It would give her a perfect opportunity to scout ahead, and see exactly what was down there without actually visiting herself. The problem was, of course, that nobody knew she had it.

She regretted now, more than ever, not having simply shown it to the others, and hoped to gain it as part of the group treasure. She had, in a way, betrayed her companions. And for what? To secretly catch a glimpse of Horvan’s naked body without him realising. Might she have somehow achieved that, even if they had known she had the eye? It was not, in retrospect, as if they would have thought she would use it for that sort of thing.

It had seemed a good idea at the time, but once she had really thought it through and realised her mistake, it was too late to go back on it. And here she was, with a magic item that could really help her companions, and no way of admitting to them that that was the case. She still did not know how she would resolve that in the long run, but at least for now she had a plan that might achieve something.

She had decided to go to one of the hidden entrances herself, without the knowledge of the others, and use the eye to find out what she could. She had selected the entrance closest to the gnomish quarter of the city; not only would it give her an excuse to be there, but if she learned something useful, she might be able to pass it off as local knowledge suddenly remembered. It had to be worth a try, if nothing else.

So here she was, standing in an alleyway at the back of a tavern, looking about for the entrance shown on the maps that Dolrim had acquired. Even at this time of the evening, it was easy enough to spot, when you knew what you were looking for. At the side of the alley was a wooden manhole cover, a metal grill next to it, peering down into the dark. Slight wisps of steam wafted up from the grill, signs of the hot springs beneath the city. Doubtless the manhole was there because of the connection between the city’s genuine sewage system and the deeper passages beneath; she would have to send the eye through the former to get to where she really wanted.

7: Vardala (2)

[Start from the beginning]

“These refer to a great threat to the city,” said Calleslyn, placing the old parchments on the table.

They had met together in the dining hall of the villa, at the elf’s urging. Almandar gathered that she had something important to tell them, something she had found recently in some old documents. But to him, it seemed too soon to head out on another expedition; they had barely returned from the last one. Some adventurers spent their whole lives exploring old ruins, but that was no way to live a life. What was the point in gaining so much treasure if you never had the time to spend and enjoy it? Of course, there were some people who were wholly dedicated to fighting evil, never resting from the battle, and that was admirable, but he was no holy warriors.

Nonetheless, he was sure that Calleslyn would not call them together without good reason, and he was willing to listen to what she had to say. The elf was intelligent, a loyal friend, and not someone who leapt into reckless action. If she thought something was important, it probably was. And a threat to the city, he had to concede, would certainly be something important.

3: Vardala

Vardala closed the door to her room behind her, and leaned against it for a while, suddenly nervous. She had excused herself from the late night conversation once Horvan had left to complete his own work for the night. She had claimed tiredness, but the truth was rather different. She pulled the magical glass marble from her purse, and held it in her hand, looking at it, her heart beating.

When she had found it, buried among some of the rubbish near the back of an underground chamber, she had initially planned to hand it over to the others, as part of the group’s treasure haul. But that was before she had realised just how useful it would be, and exactly what she would be able to do with it… if only the others did not know. She felt guilty for doing so, especially when she considered what her true motive had been. Perhaps she should just have told them, and then claimed it as her share of the loot. It was so much easier if they did not know… but, equally, it would now be embarrassing in the extreme if they ever found out.

But it was too late for that now. She had the glass ball in her hand, and there was no point having taken it if she did not intend to use it; that would be the worst of both worlds. Taking a breath to calm herself, she slid the latch shut on the inside of the door, and walked over to her bed. She put her jacket to one side, sat on the bed, and pulled off her boots. As a gnome, she loved creature comforts, and the bed already felt inviting. She lay down, above the blankets, feeling their soft material with her bare toes, and resting her head on the deep pillow. Then, already feeling a little more relaxed, she held out the tiny magical orb in front of her.