The Midnight Tree & Underhall (aka Retreat! Retreat!)

An account by Arian.

The kenku’s eyes widened at the sight of the white wolf, fangs bared. Then his beady eyes narrowed and he cast Blight. A wave of necrotic energy washed over Arian, along with an overwhelming feeling of dread and doom. She tried to shake it off, knowing it could kill her and just managed to stay on her feet, but she could feel the hit within her bones, like she had been touched by death. The kenku advanced upon her until he was within easy reach with his spear. 

She wanted nothing more than to tear his flesh from his frame, to feel the satisfying crunch of his bones, but she had more to think about than herself: her mission and her companions. So she growled in frustration, turned, and ran for the door.

 

Wisteria followed her and easily managed to un-bar the door, opening it to reveal the concerned and bloody face of Greeba just outside. “Greeba! With Lord Myrkul so near at the moment, I feel truly alive, how about you?”

 

“Still good, but Thibault is sleeping...is everybody safe and running out?”

 

Arian howled. No. They were not safe. The Chief was right behind her.

 

Greeba paused and looked behind Wisteria to notice the wolf for the first time. She raised an eyebrow, but did not flinch. She would have asked, but Gorlock ran past her out the door, interrupting her train of thought. He went so fast that his robes were a blur.

 

Around the tree, Torgin raised his head, worried. Bloody wolves? That was all they needed. He didn’t have time to think more – Greengloss leaned over the edge of the platform and shot an arrow at Eamon. Torgin ducked reflexively, even though it wasn’t aimed at him and breathed a sigh of relief as two arrows missed their mark. The monk had the luck of the lady.

 

“Mangy old crow,” he called up. The kenku snapped his beak at the dwarf.

“I shall not let you kill Torgin!” declared Eamon, unfazed by the arrows.

 

Torgin thumbed his nose at the crow and ran over to the unconscious Thibault. He still looked pretty, even with blood matting his hair. The dwarf shouldered the passed out paladin and legged it as fast as his short (but shapely) legs would go to the cover of the forest. “Be careful, mother!” he shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared into the brush.

 

Meanwhile, around the tree, Xarius had decided the better part of valor would be to follow the warlock out the door. He ran as fast as he had ever run before in his life, his amethyst and turquoise hair fanning out behind him.

 

Chief Kreeak was still coming after her. Arian’s fur stood on edge and growled deep in her throat. The fur around her muzzle was still stained with blood. She hoped the kenku would see that and be afraid. He paused; she wasn’t sure why. For a moment, she debated tearing into him, but shook her head. They were too wounded. Every time the foul creature hit them, it hurt. She ran again, tail low, Wisteria and Greeba right behind her.

 

Above, Greengloss shot two last arrows at Eamon, but one missed the mark and the other the monk slashed out of the air before it hit him.

 

Stunned, the kenku let out a surprised SQUAWK and ducked out of sight.

 

“There is nothing that can harm me when I am protecting Torgin!” Eamon yelled into the sky.

 

Nearly everyone was far from the tree now. It was just Arian and Wisteria who were still near enough to see Kreeak when he came bursting out of the door. He raised his thin, feathery arms and cast a spell that Arian recognized. It was a druid spell, though not one that she knew already. Spikey growths and thorns erupted around them, sure to tear their skin if they stayed where they were.

 

Arian gathered her legs beneath her. She still wasn’t used to this form, but she could feel the strength in her muscular haunches, strength like she had never had before. She turned and leapt for the safety of the large root to the right and once she had landed there with ease, she continued on, her paws padding the ground.

 

Seeing Arian leap out of the way, Wisteria did the same, but in the other direction, not looking back to see if Myrkul’s shadow was upon her or not.

 

Chief Kreeak stopped. He sighed. Then he turned around, went back inside, and slammed the door shut.

 

 They all ran, meeting up under the trees and sticking to their cover once they caught glimpses of giant ravens flying the skies above them. They were still being hunted.

 

Arian was worried. They needed to go farther into the depths of the Darkwood. If they went back the way they had come, they would surely be discovered. But she could not speak in her current form and she was worried about whether or not her normal body would be up for it. She had been sorely wounded. As she whined and tried to attract their attention, Eamon finally noticed her.

 

“Oh my god, a wolf! Stay back, Torgin!” He raised his sword towards her.

 

“Wait, wait, it’s Arian,” said Gorlock. He had been stunned to see her transform in the Midnight Tree, but grateful. The kenku guard had not lasted long.

 

Eamon lowered his sword. Torgin reached into his bag and offered Arian a bit of leftover bacon sandwich.

 

As hungry as she was, she shook her head and whined. They needed to move. They needed to get somewhere safe. She paced back and forth, trying to herd them, but they were milling about like sheep. Maybe Gorlock would listen? She pointed into the woods like a hunting dog and tried wagging her tail.

 

“I think she wants us to go that way,” he said. Finally!

 

“Oh, aye, the big birds won’t be able to get at us in the trees,” agreed Torgin.

 

Arian whined until they finally started moving. She began to relax after they had covered some distance. They even found a place safe enough for a short rest. She shifted to herself, but only briefly, still not willing to give up the relative safety of the wolf’s skin. At full health, she felt much better.

 

By late evening, the woods were beginning to thin out. Ahead, they saw some ruins, an old ruined broch covered in brambles—and a campfire. And where there was smoke, there was sure to be a fire.

 

“Er, Tiff? You there, dear?” asked Gorlock.

 

“Of course I’m here, silly!” said the sprite chirpily, appearing on his shoulder.

 

“Can you take a quick peek ahead? Invisible, of course.”

 

“Sure thing, boss!” She disappeared, a vague whoosh going off towards the ruins. She was back within moments. “Just three people in red robes sitting round a campfire - two men and a woman. I just peeked down the steps but it looked scary!” She shivered. “There was a big room with a slimy pool. And tunnels! And pillars!”

 

They all looked to Eamon. “It’s the Scarlet monks,” he said. “I recommend we head back to town. There’s no way of telling their individual strength or true numbers.”

 

They all argued about it amongst themselves. Should they stay? Should they go? Should they investigate further. Arian was rather glad she had kept her wolf form. She sat back and scratched her ear as she listened to them argue. She sniffed the air. Ah. Roasting rabbit. She wasn’t sure about the monks, but they could cook, at least.

 

The others had come to a decision. Maybe they could smell the rabbit too. They had decided to at least investigate. They moved as a group to an opening in the crumbled down wall, except for Torgin, who attempted to hide himself behind it. Arian took up a position in front. Perhaps a full grown wolf would give the red robed monks or whatever they were pause.

 

“Hello, good sirs,” said Gorlock, seemingly ignoring the fact that the most powerful one among the monks seemed to be female.

 

“We come in peace,” said Eamon.

 

“Underhall is now under the wardship of the Crimson Monks. Begone!”

 

Well. So much for being friendly. Arian let her teeth show, just the slightest bit. Greeba and Gorlock tried to get information out of the monks, but got nowhere and nothing but insults for their trouble. There was a brief moment where the half-orc looked ready to do more than argue, but then she took a deep breath. Arian kept a close eye on Greeba. If the berserker made a move, she would go for the red robed woman first. And then…maybe the rabbit.

 

But after a bit more talking, the others decided they were too tired and carefully backed away. “May Myrkul walk closely behind you....until next time,” called Wisteria back to the red-robed monks who were watching them walk away.

 

“Don’t threaten them, Wisteria,” said Eamon. “It’s dangerous.”

 

“That wasn’t a threat! It was a blessing!” Wisteria grinned. “Well, I suppose it depends on your perspective…”

 

Arian took one last look back to make sure the monks were watching. She marked the entrance to the ruins. They’d be back here someday, she just knew it. She would remember this place.