SPINE OF DESTINY

Chapter 1: Frozen Tears of Maer Dualdon

Wane of Summer - Frozen Tears of Maer Dualdon

"Ever wandered to Bremen?" Sariandi's inquiry, as soft and melodious as a harp's lullaby, caught the wind. She spryly navigated the remnants of what once were homes on the cold outskirts of Targos, the rubble a grim testament to a recent battle fought.

Their journey from the scarred battlefield of Termalaine had been an unforgiving trek of two hours, their path hewn along the frost-kissed shore of Lake Maer Dualdon. Ariann's earnest request had charted their course, leading them from one battleground to the next.

"No," Alestein admitted, his voice echoing the desolation around them. His eyes, usually brimming with light and mirth, were distant and thoughtful, lost in the icy wilderness before them. "This frozen wasteland is not well known to me. I look forward to the day we bid its relentless cold farewell."

Lucksy, ever the agile and restless scout, was a blur of motion, always half a minute's bound ahead of the duo. As Alestein and Sariandi finally caught up, they found her standing in silent awe amidst the remnants of the battle-worn main square of the village. Her usually bright eyes reflected the somber scene unfolding around them.

"Nine hells," she breathed out, her gaze sweeping across the ruins studded with decaying remnants of shadow creatures. "Symfaerā truly unleashed her wrath here. Wish I could've witnessed the spectacle." Her voice held a note of regret, yet a spark of admiration flickered in her eyes.

She approached the wooden exterior of a ravaged house, her nimble fingers extracting an arrow embedded in the splintered wall. It was an exquisite piece of craftsmanship: a shaft of polished dark oakwood covered in glowing runes, a razor-sharp tip threatening even in its stillness, and the fletching made of feathers so vibrant and exotic, they seemed to belong to a bird of legend rather than reality.

"Symfaerā… she's more than just a comrade-in-arms," Lucksy mused, her gaze locked on the arrow as if it was a key to a world of untold tales. "She's a legend in her own right."

Lucksy’s gaze followed Sariandi's, the latter's hand a ghostly mask over her mouth, her eyes wide with unspoken horror. Their attention was drawn to the tragic scene unfolding nearby - village women, their faces etched with sorrow and determination, were attempting to gently hoist a fallen warrior onto a modest cart.

The warrior's arm, torn from its socket, lay in grotesque testament to the savage brutality of the battle. His armor, once a proud shell of protection, was now a pockmarked testament of defeat, etched with deep, dark scratches. In the face of the shadow army's relentless onslaught, his muscular form and battle-hardened resolve had faltered and ultimately proved insufficient.

Lucksy turned to look at Alestein, his features etched in pensive shadow. The memory of his own entrapment, ensnared by the shadow creatures in a paralyzing trance, was a wound that still bled, a wound that Lucksy herself had staunched. His eyes told tales of haunted remembrance, serving as a chilling reminder of the ruthless enemy they had been up against.

"Let's press on!" Alestein's voice, usually melodic, rang out with uncharacteristic brusqueness, the echoes of his command slicing through the heavy silence. Snapping back from his brooding contemplation, he dusted the fresh snowflakes off his attire, a rich wine-red velvet ensemble that seemed ill-suited for the harsh winter surrounding them. His decision to change clothes after receiving Ariann's orders had seemed a necessary indulgence, an attempt to introduce some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos.

"If we hasten our pace, we can locate Thorgar, bring him back, and extend our gratitude to Symfaerā for her impeccable work," he declared, his eyes rolling slightly at the thought of the ethereal ranger's flawless performance. Navigating the snow-laden path with measured steps, he avoided treacherous slush pools camouflaged under the pristine white. His trusty lute, strapped to his back, bobbed gently with his movements, as if swaying to an unheard tune.

A smirk tugged at Lucksy's lips as she followed Alestein's lead. His annoyance, the slight eye roll, it was all so quintessentially Alestein that it lent a touch of normalcy to their grim reality.

Sariandi, her eyes still a mirror of the harrowing scene they had just left behind, stirred. Her movements, almost mechanical, followed in Alestein's footsteps, a silent ghost drawn by the rhythm of an unspoken lament.

"I too have crossed blades with these shadow-born horrors," Sariandi confessed in a whisper to Lucksy, her voice barely audible against the sigh of the winter wind. "But in the wake of the conflict at Good Mead, I didn't linger long enough to witness the aftermath." Her words, tinged with regret, fell like soft snowflakes, a confession of guilt to the tale of destruction they'd left behind.

"Nimbus and I, we hastened to Termalaine, not pausing to reckon the cost." As she murmured her explanation, she tried to shrug off the haunting image of the dead warrior etched into her mind, a grim reminder of the toll of their battles.

At the mention of his name, a soft hoot echoed resonantly from the nearby rooftops. Nimbus, silhouetted against the cold, stark sky, swooped down to land with practiced grace on one of Sariandi's shoulder clasps. The snowy owl nuzzled his mistress's ear, an intimate gesture of comfort amidst the chilling horror that held her gripped.

As they meandered closer to Targos' far edge, they noted a shift in the air. The pall of sorrow that had blanketed the village was pierced by sparks of resilience. Many of the villagers they crossed paths with bore expressions not just of despair, but of relief, even faint optimism. They toiled to tend to the wounded, to clear the wreckage of fallen roofs and walls, their actions fueled by a newfound strength.

"She even kindled hope in their hearts amidst the ruins," Lucksy marveled, a trace of awe softening her features. "Symfaerā, I mean." She looked on with admiration at the evidence of the ranger's influence.

Without uttering a word, Alestein threw up his hands, his actions conveying a sense of resigned frustration. His silent theatrical display drew a soft chuckle from Lucksy. Her laughter, a light note in the grim surroundings, hung in the air as they stepped over the boundary of the devastated town.

Merely twenty minutes into their sojourn along Maer Dualdon's southern shore, a sight befell their eyes that quickened their pace. The tranquil lake, the very same that had borne witness to their fierce battle against Umbraxis, the shadow queen, merely a night prior, now reflected the ominous plumes of smoke rising from the west.

"This bodes ill," Lucksy broke the silence. "If this smoke is any indication, Bremen might be faring even worse than Targos." She cast a wary glance back at the recovering town they had just left, their recent encounter with the aftermath of the battle still lingering in their minds.

Without a moment's delay, Lucksy extended her arm, casting forth a wide arc of flame that surged forward, illuminating their path and burning away the snow for the next hundred yards. The sudden blaze erupted with such unexpected intensity that Alestein couldn't help but startle.

"Seven hells, Lucksy!" He exclaimed, his heart pounding. "A little warning before you decide to conjure a wildfire, if you please!"

Scant minutes later, Lucksy, with a characteristic shrug of indifference, unleashed another arc of roaring flame down the path. "You are aware there are actually nine hells, right?" Her voice was laden with playful mockery as she glanced at Alestein who was visibly chagrined by her disregard for his request.

"Nonsense," Alestein retorted stubbornly, his frown deepening into a scowl. "I am a bard; the annals of history are my ballads. Trust me."

Undeterred, Lucksy simply pointed towards the horns atop her head, a silent but solid argument. It was Sariandi's turn to offer a soft chuckle. "She's right, you know. We speak of seven heavens and nine hells."

She cast an apologetic glance at Alestein, a smile playing on her lips as she fell into stride beside him. His mood, however, remained as dark as the path they trod.

Before long, the large bridge leading into Bremen loomed before them, perched above a river carrying large ice floes southward from the lake. Lucksy peered curiously down at the moving ice. "Which river might this be?" she inquired, casting a mischievous sideways glance at Alestein.

"The Shaengarne," he responded tersely, not rising to her bait.

"Ah, so your ballads did manage to teach you something accurately," she shot back, a triumphant grin tugging at her lips. Alestein's only retort was a juvenile sticking out of his tongue, much to her amusement.

"Watch it, or I might attach that tongue to this frosty bridge," she warned, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she darted ahead. Sariandi's soft giggle echoed behind them, adding to the moment's levity.

"You little shit," Alestein yelled after her, laughter seasoning his mock indignation. He scooped up a handful of snow, compressing it into a ball, and hurled it with unerring aim at the retreating figure. His laughter increased at the sight of Lucksy casually casting a ray of fire from her pointed finger, reducing the incoming snowball to a puff of steam before it could reach her.

Emerging from the bridge into Bremen's main thoroughfare, Lucksy signaled for a hasty halt. She stood still for a moment, her nostrils flaring as she instinctively sniffed the air. Her eyes, usually lively, widened in alarm. "Something's amiss... decidedly amiss here."

"What do you sense?" Sariandi asked, her voice barely a whisper. The lively banter of the past ten minutes seemed a distant memory, replaced by the oppressive weight of Lucksy's ominous declaration.

"Blood. The air is thick with it... and there's no shortage." Her words hung in the air, painting a vivid, unsettling picture.

"Well, good then," Alestein interjected, his voice thick with a blend of anger and triumph, his fist clenched in a gesture of defiance. "Sounds like Thorgar gave those shadows a thorough thrashing here."

"I don't believe the shadows hold any blood, Alestein," Sariandi murmured, her voice barely rising above the wind's icy whispers. She huddled into herself slightly, bracing for another of Alestein's brusque retorts. But, for once, the retort didn't come.

Sariandi turned her attention to Alestein, seeking an understanding for his silence. She was met by the sight of his aghast expression, his jaw slack with horror. Following his petrified gaze, her own eyes widened in shock, her heart plummeting like a stone into a well of dread.

Adjacent to the town's fountain, a mound rose - an innocent pile of snow at first glance. But the protruding limbs, jutting out at awkward angles, told a far grimmer tale. Beneath the deceptive blanket of fresh snow laid a grotesque tableau, a chilling tribute to a battle fought and lost.

Lucksy was already edging cautiously towards the horrifying spectacle, her usual light-hearted demeanor replaced by a grim determination. Meanwhile, Sariandi, overcome by the sight, sank to her knees, her breath hitching in a muffled sob. Alestein, usually so quick with a retort or jest, could only stand in stunned disbelief, shaking his head as if to deny the reality in front of them.

Above them, Nimbus soared in the icy sky, circling the scene below. His flight seemed a silent vigil, a stalwart observer searching for answers amidst the chilling tableau.

Chapter 2: The other side of the Canvas

Promethex - The other side of the Canvas

One might wonder, at first glance, how a delicate figure like Sariandi could withstand the relentless, biting cold that reigned supreme in the region known as Ten Towns. Adorned in a thin, almost gossamer-like, white wizard's dress, she seemed an ethereal figure amidst the harsh winter landscape. The gown, bearing intricate embroidery in the unmistakable style of Waterdhavian design, left her milky shoulders and slender arms bare against the frigid air.

Her feet, devoid of the expected heavy winter boots, were adorned only with simple open slippers, revealing the delicate skin of her bare feet against the snow. Yet, not a single shiver coursed through her lithe form. The rapid melting of the snow around her knees was the only testament to a hidden truth - a subtle Prestidigitation spell weaved around her, creating an unseen cocoon of warmth that shielded her from the winter’s wrath.

Sariandi's soft sobbing persisted, her slender shoulders shaking under the weight of the horrific scene before them. Next to her, Alestein seemed lost for words, his otherwise eloquent tongue managing only a strangled, "What in the seven... I mean nine hells..." His voice trailed off, as if the sight before him had stolen his eloquence.

Sariandi's mind, however, seemed to detach from the immediate horror, latching onto a pulse that throbbed in the recesses of her consciousness. This sensation, this familiar throbbing in her head, was something she'd experienced during the battle at Good Mead. It was Nimbus - she realized - attempting to reach out to her.

Suddenly, vivid as a lightning bolt amid a storm, an image of an inn materialized in her thoughts. Rising abruptly, her sobbing ceased as a newfound resolve took hold. She passed Alestein, instructing him to follow with a simple nod, and took the lead.

Alestein, his horrified gaze still lingering on the grotesque mound of bodies, barely registered her command but found himself following her lead nonetheless. His usually lively spirit seemed to be weighed down by the grim reality around them.

Lucksy, who had distanced herself to inspect the mound of bodies, delicately uncovering the corpses with a controlled flame, glanced up in time to see her companions move past her. Their faces set in determination, their acknowledgement absent. Her own frown deepened as she cast one more scrutinizing glance at the corpses before springing to her feet to follow them.

As she trailed behind, she found herself stepping into a side alley. Despite the rampant destruction, remnants of its former charm were evident. The alley, once adorned with cheerful decorations and lighting, now seemed a ghost of its former self. Broken chairs and scattered tables hinted at a once lively gathering spot, a place where laughter and cheer would echo off the walls.

The cozy atmosphere that once permeated the alley gave rise to a fleeting thought in Lucksy's mind - she half-expected to find an inn tucked away around the corner.

As though summoned by her thoughts, Sariandi's voice broke through the silence, "Here lies the inn!" Her exclamation echoed through the quiet alley, bouncing off the frost-kissed cobblestones.

Alestein, who had been absorbed in the gruesome sight of two unrecognizable corpses, looked up, a grimace distorting his features as he fought to keep his stomach in check. "What inn?" he managed to grind out, his voice hoarse as he struggled to suppress the rising bile.

"Nimbus showed this to me in my mind," she responded, her voice resolute. "This is it. Unmistakable." She gestured towards the entrance, or rather, what once had been the entrance. Now, it was a gaping hole, its edges ragged as if some colossal force had carelessly torn through the too-small doorway.

"Interesting," Alestein muttered, emerging slowly from his horror-stricken stupor. Instinctively, he reached for the lute, slung across his back, and began to strum a haunting, melancholy melody. The sombre notes filled the air, a mournful dirge that perfectly echoed the grim scene.

Lucksy, her gaze intent on the gaping maw that had once been a welcoming doorway, darted to the forefront. "Hold, both of you!" she commanded, her voice slicing through Alestein's melancholy melody. "If the creature responsible for this destruction still lurks within, we must tread carefully." Her fingertips crackled with energy, tendrils of electricity dancing and sparking in anticipation. "I'll lead," she declared, stepping into the yawning darkness of the ruined inn. Her tail, like a scorpion's stinger, rose behind her, poised and ready to counter any lurking threat. Alestein, still engrossed in the sorrowful tune emanating from his lute, seemed oblivious to her words. He moved to stand beside her, his fingers dancing over the strings, lost in the poignant melody.

Outside, a solitary hoot echoed through the frosty air, signaling Nimbus' return from his aerial vigil over the town.

With a snap of her fingers and a curt incantation, Sariandi ignited every surviving candle and lantern within the inn, casting an eerie glow that sharply contrasted with the darkness outside. "This will help with..." Her sentence hung unfinished in the air, her words swallowed by the horrifying scene unveiled by the sudden illumination.

Bodies were strewn haphazardly throughout the inn, a gruesome tableau that made the pile of corpses outside seem almost insignificant in comparison. Beside her, the decapitated figure of the innkeeper hung limply over the counter, a gruesome sight that evoked a high-pitched yelp from her. The chilling sound made Alestein strike a false chord on his lute, disturbing the melancholic melody he had been playing. He quickly adjusted, weaving a much darker tune that resonated with their grim surroundings.

The inn's rear wall was a formidable barricade of barrels, each speckled with a grim palette of blood splatter that stood out garishly on the weathered wood. An empty spot, slightly left of center, hinted at a missing barrel, an oddity amidst the grim spectacle. Elsewhere, the walls and even the ceiling were smeared with broad strokes of blood, as if spectral entities had been violently expelled from their hosts and flung against the unyielding surfaces.

Amidst the chaos, a series of paintings behind the counter hung askew, their frames slightly askance. Each canvas captured the breathtaking polar landscapes and landmarks surrounding Ten Towns with stunning accuracy, except for one outlier. This solitary piece depicted a small desert store, a stark contrast to the icy wilderness. The painting's central figure was a distressed-looking, bearded dwarf, his expression one of worry and confusion, a strange anomaly within the serene landscapes.

While Sariandi remained rooted to the spot, still in shock from the horrific sight of the mutilated innkeeper, Lucksy was scouring the inn with focused intensity. Her frown gradually morphed into a look of grave concern, then into a realization that seemed to shake her to her core. A cocktail of disbelief, regret, horror, and anger welled up in her eyes, sparking them to life.

"Will you cut that horrible strumming, for fuck's sake!" she suddenly screamed at Alestein. Her voice reverberated through the inn, yet Alestein seemed impervious to her outburst. His playing ceased, not due to her scream, but due to a completely different discovery. His finger pointed unsteadily at the portrait of the dwarf behind the counter.

"By the nine heavens..." he muttered, his eyes wide with recognition.

"Nine hells, you moron," Lucksy snapped at him, tears streaming down her face. The fire in her eyes seemed to intensify. "But look," Alestein continued, his voice a mere whisper. "That's Thorgar," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and confusion. "In the painting!"

The revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a deeper shadow over the gruesome spectacle they had stumbled upon. The similarity between the distressed figure in the painting and their missing companion was undeniable, adding a new dimension of terror to their grim discovery.

"Wait! Did you see that?" Sariandi's voice pierced the grim silence, her finger jabbing towards the painting, her other hand covering her mouth in a gesture of stark surprise. "I think it moved!"

Lucksy, having already ventured behind the counter for a closer examination, squinted at the painting. Every third heartbeat, the colors seemed to pulse, subtly shifting and morphing, creating a slightly different image each time. It was as if the painting was alive, breathing its own surreal rhythm into the chaotic scene.

"What is that monstrosity behind him?" Lucksy asked, her voice hushed as she beckoned the others to join her. Her hand reached out, hovering just a hair's breadth away from the canvas as if afraid to disturb the spectral scene painted there.

"That's one ugly bastard," Alestein muttered, standing tall next to Lucksy, his curiosity overcoming his initial shock. He reached out, his fingers touching the edge of the painting as he prepared to lift it from the wall. "Its skin seems to be... peeling off," he continued, a grimace of disgust contorting his features.

"Don't touch it, you fool!" Lucksy's voice cut through the tense silence like a knife, her hand shooting forward to yank Alestein's arm away from the painting. But her warning came too late; Alestein was already holding the painting, his fingers brushing against the canvas.

Almost instantly, the painting shifted, the image of Thorgar morphing into a startled expression, his mouth forming a silent 'Oh!'. It seemed as though a hand, as radiant as the sun, had seized Thorgar's shoulder, dragging him backward with an unyielding grip.

"Oh dear," Alestein murmured, his face reflecting a mix of shock and guilt. They all waited, their breaths held in anticipatory silence, for the scene in the painting to change again. But the image remained frozen, locked in that singular moment of surprise and fear.

"See what you've done?" Lucksy shot Alestein an incensed glare, her anger flaring like a lit match. "When it comes to magic, you, Alestein, do not touch anything! Ever!"

"Fine," Alestein scoffed, a mixture of annoyance and resignation momentarily crossing his face. He tossed the painting onto the counter as if he wanted to be rid of it, of the unsettling scene it portrayed.

Lucksy snatched it up immediately, cradling the painting in her arms. "I'll take that, thank you very much. It might be our only lead." She cast another exasperated look his way, then gently wiped away the lingering tears from her cheeks with her free hand.

"Were you crying?" Sariandi cast a querying look at Lucksy, a hint of surprise tinging her words.

"Yeah, Tieflings cry, princess," Lucksy retorted sharply, the annoyance clear in her voice. "Did you think our eyes were too hot for tears?" Her words hung in the air for a beat before she softened, adding, "I'm sorry, Sariandi."

She then gestured to the carnage that lay around them. "Look at them. Closely. Do you see the difference, compared to the victims at Termalaine, Targos, Good Mead, Dougan's Hole?" Her eyes flicked between her two companions, lingering on Alestein. She remembered he was there when they had left Dougan's Hole, post-battle, and had seen the aftermath firsthand. "Those shadowy bastards left only cuts and deep, oozing gashes," she continued. "What we see here is different."

Sariandi moved forward, her slender figure weaving between the strewn bodies. She lowered herself to kneel on the cold stone floor of the inn, her eyes welling up with tears as realization struck. "Oh no," she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the eerie silence. "I see it now, Luxe." Her delicate hands hovered over the bodies, tracing the evidence of blunt trauma that marred their lifeless forms, starkly different from the deep gashes they'd encountered before. "This...this was the result of something else. Someone else." Her words were punctuated by the soft patter of tears falling onto the motionless corpses.

"Can someone please explain to me what all the sobbing is about?" Alestein's voice echoed from behind them, disrupting the somber atmosphere. "This is the best ale I've had in ages," he declared, emphesizing his statement with the sound of an empty mug hitting the counter. He carelessly wiped his mouth on his velvety red sleeve and ambled back towards a keg in the corner, evidently preparing for a refill.

Meanwhile, Sariandi slowly rose, a picture of utter defeat and hopelessness. "Thorgar did this, Alestein," she managed to choke out, her voice a strained whisper. "He killed these people. All of them." The final words barely left her lips before she was consumed by a wave of helpless sobs.

The mug slipped from Alestein's grip at Sariandi's revelation, its contents sloshing onto the rich velvet fabric of his trousers. His face drained of color, he rushed past Lucksy towards Sariandi. A quick, frantic scan of the carnage around them seemed to cement the dreadful reality in his mind. He turned back to Sariandi, pulling her into a comforting embrace and gently stroking her hair. His gaze met Lucksy's over Sariandi's hunched shoulders, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"How could this be?" His voice wavered, the usually jovial bard struggling with the grim revelation. "He was our friend."

Their tragic tableau was jarringly interrupted by a loud crash from the direction of the barrel-lined wall. All three of them stiffened, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the noise.

Chapter 3: The Gnome’s Tale

Andawan - The Gnome’s Tale

Alestein's repertoire of ballads had often featured tales of the dark-skinned denizens of the world below, yet the bard had never encountered one in flesh and blood. Bereft of a precise image of what to expect, his instinct took over - he reached for an empty mug on the counter, hurtling it towards the wall of kegs.

There, emerging from the shadows, stood a diminutive gnome. His skin was a deep, earthy hue, and he was clad in a lavish purple satin outfit, complete with an eccentric hat. The gnome nimbly dodged the flying projectile, but not without his hat being dislodged in the process. The mug sailed past him, disappearing into a newly-revealed corridor from where he had sprung, the secret door that had obscured the passage now ajar.

Alestein's gaze darted between the stack of chairs, toppled in the wake of the secret door's reveal, and the gnome. His mind was rapidly processing the sudden disruption of their somber moment, the appearance of this unlikely figure adding a new layer of intrigue to their already chaotic predicament.

As the mug's echoing clatter dwindled into silence, a tension as thick as the winter frost hung in the air between the trio and the gnome. They surveyed one another warily, a silent standoff punctuated only by the lingering echo of the mug's descent.

"That's one big-ass stairwell behind that door," Alestein finally ventured, breaking the tense silence.

"Who are you?" The gnome's voice was high and reedy, cutting through the quiet with its sharpness. "You don't look like you're from around here." His beady eyes flickered from Lucksy's horns to Sariandi's ethereal garments, and finally to Alestein's flamboyantly red attire.

"Don't be alarmed," Lucksy began, taking a cautious step forward, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "We're only here to search for our missing friend."

"Stay back, devil spawn!" The gnome's voice was shrill, his hand darting behind his back to produce a catapult-like contraption. "You won't find anyone here anymore. Everyone's dead!" His declaration hung in the air, a chilling confirmation of the grim scene around them.

"I believe our friend is still quite alive," Alestein countered, his tone carrying a nonchalance that was almost jarring given their grim surroundings. He gestured vaguely towards Lucksy's pack, where she had stowed the uncanny painting. "His name is Thorgar. He's a dwarf about this tall, and he's a cleric."

"Alestein—" Lucksy tried to interject, but her words were abruptly cut off as a loud crack echoed throughout the inn. Something struck her horn with such force that it sent her reeling.

Panic and anger laced the gnome's voice as he yelled, "You're friends with that butcher? Get out!" He was backing towards the wall of kegs, clumsily toppling another stack of chairs that fell far short of Alestein. As he fumbled to reload his catapult-like weapon, Sariandi quickly intervened. With a swift incantation, she cast a spell that froze the gnome in place, his movements halted by her arcane power.

Lucksy, having quickly recovered from the initial shock of the projectile's impact, turned her gaze to Sariandi. "A hold spell? Couldn't you have numbed its emotions instead? This might only provoke it further."

"I think it's a her," Alestein interjected, his voice wafting over from where he was busily refilling his mug with ale.

"I had to act fast," Sariandi explained, giving Lucksy an apologetic look. She gave a slight shrug of her delicate shoulders. "Now, at least, we have the time to explain that we mean no harm." A glimmer of realization crossed her face, her smile suggesting that the idea had only just occurred to her.

Lucksy nodded, seemingly satisfied with the compromise. She turned her attention back to the gnome, only to find Alestein and his ale-laden mug had already beat her to it.

"We're not here to kill you," he began, but his words were quickly cut off as Lucksy shoved him aside without explanation. "Just enjoy your ale, alright?" she chided, her tone dismissive. She then turned her attention back to the gnome, her gaze steady and determined, prepared to deescalate the tense situation.

"Our friend here isn't wrong, you know," Lucksy began, her tone steady and reasonable. "If we wanted you dead, you wouldn't be standing here in this... somewhat awkward predicament." The gnome, still held rigid by Sariandi's spell, blinked but gave no other indication of response.

"Why is he blinking, Sariandi?" Lucksy asked, a hint of concern seeping into her voice. "This is a hold spell, right?"

"He's blinking because my hold spell takes at least ten minutes to wear off," Sariandi replied, a touch of defensiveness creeping into her tone. "You try not blinking for that long," she added with a small sigh, clearly not appreciating Lucksy's critique of her magical prowess.

Lucksy shrugged. "Alright, makes sense," she conceded under her breath, before redirecting her attention to the gnome.

"So, we all believe that Thorgar killed all these people, but it's hard for us to accept. He's always been a peaceful man, a follower of righteousness. We're trying to understand what drove him to this... this madness. We could use all the help we can get. Would you be willing to help us figure out what happened?"

Her question hung in the air, a plea for understanding and assistance in their desperate search for answers. The gnome's only response was two quick blinks, his expression still rigid under the force of Sariandi's spell.

Lucksy swiveled her head to look at Sariandi. "Two blinks, is that a yes?" Sariandi looked back at her, raising her hands in disbelief. "Can't you just be patient and let the spell wear off?"

It wasn't until Alestein had wandered off for his third refill that the gnome finally slumped to the ground. "By the gods! That was downright awful," he exclaimed, massaging his nose vigorously. "It was itching right from the start!" Suspicion still lingered in his eyes as he looked at the trio, but the aggression had faded.

"Let's say I believe you. What on Toril is your reason for being here? I mean, so soon after last night's battle. This can't be a coincidence. You must've been close by," he speculated, his eyes fixed on Lucksy, awaiting her response.

"We were nearby because we all fought our battles in the other towns," Alestein interjected, his voice slightly louder and more dramatic than necessary. "But we didn't kill anyone, though." He paused, mulling over his words. "Well, not anyone that wasn't a shadow, at least."

The following moment stretched on, time seeming to slow as the gnome studied them with a measured gaze, carefully weighing his next words. "Alright…" The word seemed to be dragged from the depths of his being. "When the onslaught here at the inn began, I was fortunate enough to slip away through this secret door, just in time, thank the gods."

Animated by the recollection, the gnome's gestures grew more vivid, his hands painting a dramatic picture of his escape. "After the fight ended, a deadly silence descended for a moment. It felt as if they were searching for me. When they took out that barrel," he pointed to a gap in the stacked wall of barrels reaching up to the ceiling, "I thought they had found me."

"Why did they take out the barrel?" Alestein interjected, his brow furrowing in confusion. "To celebrate their victory?" A shudder ran through him at the thought.

"I do not know," the gnome replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "All I remember is someone reciting a complex incantation, and then the whole inn was bathed in a sickly green light. I know this because the light seeped through the cracks in the door. It was pulling at me, and it was horrifying!"

The gnome's expression twisted into one of profound distress. "Nothing like I've felt before," he stated somberly. "Then they left."

"That's it?" Alestein asked, his gaze shifting from the gnome to his nearly emptied mug.

"No!" The gnome's sudden outburst startled Sariandi, prompting her to jump slightly. "I heard one of them mention that they should make sure 'he' made his way to the dark fortress. The voice was unnaturally heavy...it was eerie."

"Dark fortress," Lucksy mused aloud. "That could refer to any place of darkness."

Alestein, however, was quick to offer his own interpretation. With a theatrical lift of his finger, he declared, "Or it could be the City of Shade. My good friend Arcturus and I did quite the study on that once. A black fortress, a city even, floating over the Anauroch desert."

The other three looked at him as if he'd sprouted a second head. Sariandi shook her head fondly, a small smile playing on her lips. "That's so cute," she said, her tone dripping with affectionate sarcasm.

"Where I come from, there are plenty of dark fortresses," the gnome interjected, a wise smile tugging at his lips. The sight of him attempting to appear sagely made Lucksy chuckle, considering his earlier tantrum.

"So, where are you from?" Lucksy posed the question with a certain firmness, her curiosity evidently piqued. "And what's your name?" Sariandi chimed in, her soft voice a contrast to Lucksy's assertive tone.

"Fiztik," the gnome answered, his smile broad as he pointed downwards. "And I'm from far below!"

"You're from hell?" Alestein blurted out, his words met with a burst of laughter from Lucksy.

"That's NOT where the hells are, you numb-skull," she chided, struggling to contain her mirth.

"No no, I'm from what you folks call the Underdark!" Fiztik's proclamation was almost jubilant, his previous fear and distrust seemingly replaced by excitement. His eyes sparkled with a newfound enthusiasm, as if he'd stumbled upon a grand revelation. "I could take you there. Together, we can find your friend and kill him," he declared, his small fists clenched in determination.

"Hear, hear," Alestein chimed in, his voice rich with drama, though his eyes were noticeably cloudier than before. "Wait, we can't just kill him. We need to understand why he did all this. He could have been framed," he paused, mulling over his own words, before letting out a half-drunk chuckle and pointing at Lucksy. "Got it? Framed. Like in the painting."

"Too soon, Alestein," Lucksy admonished, torn between a smile at his jest and the grim reality of their situation.

It was Sariandi who spoke next, her voice suddenly steady and assertive. "Let's do this," she announced, her gaze meeting each of theirs in turn. "It's better than standing around here. How do we get to the Underdark, Fiztik?"

A broad, eager grin lit up the gnome's face at her question. "You're going to love this. Follow me." With that, he disappeared through the secret barrel doorway.

"Let's go, then," Lucksy murmured, her voice a hushed echo in the empty tavern. She moved to follow Fiztik, Sariandi close on her heels with Nimbus perched comfortably on her shoulder. Alestein, lagging a few steps behind, made a final dash to the counter for one last refill before hastening after them.

"I still think we should consider the City of Shades, my friends," he called out.

Nimbus responded with a soft hoot. "You know nothing, owl," Alestein scoffed, disappearing through the doorway and pulling the barrel door shut behind him.

Chapter 4: Under the Ice

Wane of Summer - Under the Ice

Lucksy's gaze remained fixed on the painting in front of her. Her fingertips gently traced the image of Thorgar, frozen and startled on the canvas. A troubled frown creased her forehead as she was drawn back into the labyrinth of memories. Had her parents been there to see where she was now, they would have struggled to believe it. From following Fiztik through the concealed door, down a long corridor that inclined downward rather than forward until it sharply veered east, the sights were beyond what she had ever imagined.

What they had encountered next had her questioning the very fabric of her reality. A corridor, hewn through ice, yet the ice was smooth, glowing with an ethereal blue hue as if lanterns had been embedded within. It was a sight she could never have dreamed of seeing in her life. Fiztik had explained the wonderous spectacle around them. He spoke of an ancient glacier descending from the north, its icy tendrils feeding the depths of Maer Dualdon. The ethereal blue light, he revealed, was the product of an age-old enchantment, a spell woven by his forebears to keep the corridor from shifting and changing with the glacier's capricious movements.

At the corridor's end, she had found herself needing to free Alestein's tongue from the icy surface.

What had unfolded after was no less awe-inspiring. A cavernous grotto, entirely carved into the heart of the glacier. In its floor, a large basin had been hewn, cradling what Fiztik referred to as a 'diver'. To Lucksy, however, it resembled more an enormous ironclad sausage.

With an excited agility that belied his stature, Fiztik scrambled to the top of the peculiar vessel, beckoning them aboard through a hole that descended into its cavernous belly. Alestein, ever curious, had made to fiddle with some of the levers once they had ventured to the front of the diver. A quick smack over the head from Lucksy put an end to that - she had no desire to end up as a frozen ghost, lost forever within the icy depths of the glacier.

Nimbus, seemingly content with the situation, had let out a satisfied hoot from his perch. Meanwhile, Fiztik busied himself with the buttons, dials, and levers that adorned the front of the vessel. As Sariandi had taken seat next to Fiztik at the front, Lucksy nestled herself into a pile of warm furs at the rear.

The sudden lurch of the diver as it plunged deeper snapped Lucksy from her reverie. She felt the warm furs shifting around her, the unexpected movement causing her fingers to instinctively tighten their grip. Casting a glance around, her eyes landed on Alestein, slumped against the opposite side of the diver's interior. He was lightly snoring, his mug still clenched in his left hand. Rolling her eyes, Lucksy allowed herself to relax a fraction as the ride smoothed out.

Her attention was once again drawn back to the painting cradled in her lap. She studied the lifelike yet uncanny image once more, her gaze lingering on the figure that lurked behind Thorgar. Who was that creature? She found herself pondering the question yet again. Squinting, she tried to discern what lay behind the two figures. It appeared to be a sizeable canvas of sorts.

Shifting to one side, she moved closer to one of the diver's lanterns, its comforting glow casting an ambient light across the vessel's interior. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was indeed a canvas that formed the backdrop for Thorgar and his assailant. Her eyes widened in surprise. Could it be a large, black castle depicted on the canvas?

Jolted from her reverie by her newfound discovery, Lucksy sat upright instinctively. Her initial impulse was to share her revelation with Alestein, but one glance at his sleeping form made it clear that the ale had claimed him for now. Carefully, she navigated her way towards the front of the diver, her hands latching onto anything that didn't resemble a button or a lever. The sensation of their continued descent was far from comforting.

Reaching the diver's helm, she found Sariandi absorbed in the views beyond the thick, forward-facing window. Her eyes, wide with wonder, reflected the mesmerizing scenes unfolding outside. Every so often, Fiztik would make minor adjustments to a lever, his attention divided between the controls and the thrilling spectacle outside. Noticing Lucksy, he flashed her a proud smile.

"Sariandi," Lucksy began, only to be cut short as Sariandi hastily interjected, "Can it wait?" Her question was underscored by an anxious hoot from Nimbus, who was hopping restlessly from one claw to the other atop her shoulder.

For a fleeting moment, Lucksy was tempted to inquire about the spell Sariandi might have used to keep Nimbus's sharp talons from piercing her flesh. But she let out a resigned sigh and retreated back to the rear of the vessel.

"Not long before we arrive!" Fiztik's words echoed after her, a promise of their impending destination.

She was almost back to her cozy nest of furs when a loud jolt, followed by the grating sound of the diver scraping against something, unceremoniously dumped Lucksy onto her backside. "Sorry," echoed Fiztik's voice from the helm.

Her eyes darted around anxiously, scanning for any signs of water seeping in. As she managed to get onto all fours, preparing to stand once more, she suddenly found herself staring into the confused face of the newly awakened Alestein.

"What in the hells are you doing?" he asked, a puzzled grin playing on his features, clearly baffled by her position.

"I was, I was," she stammered, only to cut herself off. "Never mind that," she added abruptly, her attention diverted to the fate of the painting she'd been holding. It had slid away during the jolt, making its way back to the pile of furs that had been her earlier perch. As she felt the diver slow to a halt, she swiftly retrieved the painting, her fingers tracing over the canvas, checking for any damage from its fall.

At the helm, Sariandi watched intently as they advanced at a snail's pace into an incredibly narrow underwater cave. The diver seemed to be embraced on all sides by the enclosing rock, a slow dance just above the lake's floor. Fiztik had assured them that their destination was near at hand.

Another minute passed before the confining cave gave way to a more expansive space. With a deft adjustment of a lever, Fiztik propelled the diver upwards with surprising speed until it burst from the water's surface like a freed cork.

"We are here!" he announced, his arms sweeping toward the windows in a grand, theatrical gesture. But all Sariandi could see through the thick glass was the oppressive darkness. She shrugged, turning back to Fiztik.

"Where are we again?" she asked.

"You are at the most northern part of the Northdark," Fiztik replied, his voice ripe with excitement. "This small pond we've ascended in is nestled within a very dark cave. But let's take a lantern each and make our way," he started, his anticipation palpable.

"So, where are we?" Alestein's voice echoed through the confined space of the helm as he entered, closely followed by Lucksy. Her index finger was pointed resolutely at the canvas of the painting, her expression a blend of annoyance and determination.

"We are where we were going," Fiztik responded with a cryptic smirk, rising from his position behind the controls.

"Just listen for a second," Lucksy's voice was laced with a hint of frustration as she spoke from behind Alestein. "I'm trying to tell you that there's a painting behind Thorgar that shows a damn black castle." She placed particular emphasis on the last three words, articulating them with a clear annoyance.

"Does it look like it's floating?" Alestein asked, his attempt to stifle a yawn failing miserably.

"Yes! It does, in fact," Lucksy answered, bracing herself for Alestein's inevitable "I told you so."

As expected, Alestein spun around, pointing at her triumphantly with both fingers. "I did try to tell you."

Before the argument could progress any further, Fiztik, seemingly drained of patience, quickly defused the situation. "Enough! City of Shades. Acknowledged. Let us depart this diver and return home. I am craving a darkspore stout," he declared, sticking out his tongue as if to emphasize his thirst. "Mark my words, if the Underdark yields no path to a City of Shades, then no place shall."

Rather than ushering everyone out, Fiztik simply wormed his way past the others, his eyes lingering appreciatively on Sariandi's dress as he brushed past her. "Oh, wonderful silk," he murmured, an approving glint in his eye. A blush tinged Sariandi's cheeks and she stole a quick glance at Alestein. The Bard was trading the mug he'd been holding for one of the lanterns at the helm. "Guess we'll be needing this out there," Alestein reasoned, already anticipating the dark expanse awaiting them outside the diver.

"For certain," Fiztik affirmed, making his way toward the ladder that led to the hatch above. He gestured toward two more lanterns before expertly ascending the ladder, leaving the others to trail in his wake.

Reaching the hatch, Alestein paused to look down at Lucksy, who was following closely behind him. "The City of Shades is not just a black castle, you know," he warned. "You shouldn't underestimate such things."

Caught off guard by Alestein's sudden halt, Lucksy collided face-first into his ale-stained velvet rear end. "For fuck's sake, Alestein," she cursed, struggling to conceal her annoyance. "Get out or you'll estimate the length of one of my horns!"

From below, the sound of Sariandi's amused giggle floated up to them.

Emerging atop the diver, Fiztik was already beckoning them onward, his form barely visible in the soft glow of their lanterns. "Don't you need a lantern, my friend?" Alestein asked, his voice echoing off the cavernous walls.

"My eyes can pierce through the thickest of nights," Fiztik returned confidently, making a goggle-like gesture with his hands around his eyes. "Come on!" he added, an impatient note creeping into his voice.

With a nimble hop, they descended from the diver's nose, falling into step behind the gnome. Their path took them out of the grotto through what looked like nothing more than a crevice in the wall. It opened up into a low corridor after just a few steps.

Alestein surveyed the barren rocks flanking them, bringing his lantern close to his face so Sariandi could see him. "Bah, nothing grows here in the depths," he stated, rolling his eyes and letting out a sigh.

Sariandi nodded in agreement. "It does feel warmer than I had anticipated, though, and very, very humid. Quite a contrast with up there." She gestured vaguely upwards.

"You will be in for a surprise," Fiztik's voice echoed from up ahead, his words a promise of the unknown.

They trudged on in silence, the barren corridor before them stretching endlessly with scarce a few bends and corners to break the monotony. The silence, heavy and unyielding, was finally broken by Lucksy who was trailing just behind Fiztik.

"This is exactly how I pictured the Underdark," she began, her voice a soft murmur against the all-pervading stillness. "My parents often mentioned it when I was small," she added, her words carrying a hint of far-off nostalgia. "I was fascinated by the idea of a world beneath ours. But with my parents always describing it as a world steeped in pure darkness, I found it hard to imagine what could be down here. I mean, if there was any..." Her voice trailed off as they rounded another bend. Her sentence was left hanging in the air as soft tendrils of yellow light began to seep into the corridor from around the corner. There, at the end of this seemingly endless tunnel, was a sight that would forever be etched in her memory.

"...just forget everything I just said," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. A gasp caught in her throat as tears welled up in her eyes. She brought a hand to her mouth, attempting to stifle the overwhelming wave of emotion.

What unfolded before them was a grotto of such magnificence, its scale defied comprehension. She wasn't even certain she could discern its farthest reaches. The cavern was an enchanting tapestry of luminescent mushrooms and fungi of all shapes and sizes, their glow bathing the scene in a mesmerizing palette of colors. Some were as large as houses, their towering forms casting long, ethereal shadows.

Rising from the heart of this extraordinary tableau was a tree, its height dwarfing everything around it. Its light was almost blinding in intensity, a beacon piercing the eternal darkness.

Behind her, she heard Alestein mutter, "How am I ever going to write this down?" Turning, she saw the half-elf standing stock-still, his face split by a wide grin, his eyes wide with disbelief. Sariandi stood there too, her mouth agape in wonder. A glance at her tear-filled eyes made Lucksy realize she wasn't the only one moved by the sight.

Fiztik couldn't contain his excitement, his grin spreading wide across his face. "Didn't I tell you?" His words were light and triumphant. With a sprightly leap, he scampered down a winding path leading through an array of colossal green and blue mushrooms, resembling a small forest in their grandeur. "My home is just down this hill," he called back, his voice tinged with a note of pride.

The last to follow was Alestein, who remained rooted to the spot, utterly captivated by the surreal vista spread out before him. His fingers traced the contours of his blonde stubble beard, while his head shook subtly in disbelief. The distant hoot of Nimbus filled the silence, its echo strangely absent. "Curious," he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible. With one last glance at the mesmerizing scenery, he then followed in the steps of the others, descending the winding path into the heart of this glowing, mushroom-forested underworld.

Chapter 5: Northdark

Wane of Summer - Northdark

In the enchanting labyrinth of towering blue and green mushrooms, Lucksy found herself meandering, her fingers absentmindedly brushing against the caps of smaller fungi as she passed. Her other hand rubbed her sore bottom, a memento from the harsh fall she'd taken in the diver. Doubt wormed its way into her thoughts - was her luck deserting her? Also the recent scrape with the bullet in the tavern, it all seemed too ill-fated. "Where are you, Tymora?" she muttered under her breath, invoking the goddess of good fortune.

A sudden stumble up ahead tore her from her musings. Alestein, half-tripped over a protruding rock, grumbling about the lack of light. "Too damn dark," he complained, his voice echoing faintly in the vast expanse. "Do you have any brighter mushrooms around here, Fiztik?" But his query was met with silence - the gnome was already far ahead, swallowed by the luminescent forest.

A soft chuckle escaped Lucksy at the sight. "That little guy must have wanted to get home pretty badly," she mused, her fingers playfully dancing over another waist-high mushroom as she passed.

A shrill scream pierced the serene silence of the Underdark, rooting all three of them to the spot. "What was that?" Sariandi's voice quivered, her hands instinctively adopting both defensive and offensive gestures, ready to summon her magic at a moment's notice.

Lucksy, however, didn't hesitate. "That was Fiztik, honey. Hurry after me! Now!" She commanded, her voice firm and decisive. With unearthly nimbleness, she darted down the path, sliding across the slick caps of mushrooms to save time, leaving Alestein and Sariandi trailing in her wake. In less than a minute, the path opened up into a small settlement nestled amidst the glowing fungi. Her eyes quickly scanned the area, landing on Fiztik. A dark figure towered over him, easily thrice his size.

A gasp caught in her throat as the figure lifted Fiztik and flung him with monstrous strength across the path into a distant mushroom. "No!" Lucksy's scream rend the air, her adrenaline igniting a wildfire within her. Without a second thought, she bolted towards the menacing figure, her heart pounding in her chest. As she neared, the figure's form became clearer - a massive, nebulous mass of smoke and muscle.

"Okay, striking won't do much good here," she thought, her mind racing. In a split second, she halted her charge, channeling the fiery power coursing through her veins. The release was explosive, a torrent of flame erupting from her hands and chest, illuminating even the farthest corners of the cave. The giant was caught off-guard, its imposing form offering no protection against her fiery onslaught. The force of the inferno propelled it backwards, far out of reach. In its final act of defiance, it hurled a massive sword in Lucksy's direction. But she stood her ground, feeling the rush of air as the sword narrowly missed her face.

With her hands and chest still radiating heat like smoldering embers, she lifted her gaze skywards, as if seeking Tymora's gaze. "Yes, message received..." she whispered, her voice filled with a newfound determination and resolve.

The sound of Alestein and Sariandi's footfalls reached Lucksy as they followed her. Proceeding cautiously, she advanced towards the mushroom into which Fiztik had been hurled, her eyes combing the area for any lurking threats. "Fiztik?" She hissed, the silence swallowing her call.

"I think I saw him move just now," Alestein reassured from behind. Lucksy cast a quick nod over her shoulder at his words. Just off to the side, Sariandi was weaving a protective spell, forming a glistening magical barrier around herself and Alestein.

A low groan, drew their attention back to Fiztik. His once fancy purple outfit was in tatters and stained with dirt even more than before. "Is it gone?" he managed to croak out. As he tried to sit up, a sharp cry of pain escaped him. "I think I've broken something."

A quick examination confirmed his fears - a part of his bone was jutting out through his velvety sleeve. "Don't move your arm," Lucksy instructed, concern and a hint of disgust mingling in her voice as she crouched beside him.

"Oh gods!" Sariandi's shriek rang out, her gaze fixated on the unsettling sight of the protruding bone. Lucksy shot her a demanding glance. "Don't just stand there, do something. Patch him up... or something."

Sariandi, taken aback, gestured helplessly. "Or something?" She blurted out. "I'm a wizard. Not some... some cleric or gnome doctor." Alestein looked at her, a hint of skepticism on his face. "Are you sure you don't have one little spell perhaps? The little fella looks to be in serious agony."

Sariandi's face brightened at this and she raised a finger in realization. "Agony, yes! I always forget I have Relief from Agony. I never used it before."

"Next time you can use that spell on me when Alestein decides to get drunk again," Lucksy quipped, a hint of amusement sneaking into her otherwise stern tone. "Now cast that spell and give this little bugger some relief."

As Sariandi began to weave the intricate patterns of her spell, a sudden grinding sound sounded through the cavern, fracturing her concentration. Lucksy's head snapped towards the noise, her fingers suddenly ignited with raw, crackling energy siphoned from the weave itself. Under the weak glow of two distant torches, a boulder had rolled slightly to one side, and from behind it emerged a couple of anxious gnome faces.

"Fiztik?" One of them called out, his voice ricocheting off the stone walls before he broke into a run towards them. "Fiztik! What happened?"

With his good arm, Fiztik motioned for Lucksy to stand down. "Zephryn! Come here," he croaked. The newcomer crouched down next to Fiztik upon arrival, casting a guarded glance at the unfamiliar faces before turning his attention to his brother. "Why were you away so long, brother?" His voiced carried a note of reproach. "You were supposed to return yesterday."

With an effort, Fiztik waved his good hand to silence him. "Bremen...it was attacked," he began, each word pained yet urgent. "By a legion of shadow creatures from the deep... and a mad dwarf." Alestein began to protest at this portrayal, but a stern look from Lucksy silenced him. She gestured at Sariandi, encouraging her to attempt her relief spell once again.

As the magic began to weave its relief around Fiztik, he continued his explanation, his voice growing stronger with each word. "These are new friends. They defended the towns above, drove off the shadow creatures." Alestein interrupted, his chest puffing up with pride, "We even brought down their boss."

"Umbraxis?" Zephryn's eyes widened in surprise.

"Aye, at Termalaine. She just popped up from the lake, right there. But she didn't stand a chance against the ten of us." Alestein's grin was smug, almost fatal.

"But what happened here?" Fiztik asked Zephryn. "This is my younger brother," he added, introducing Zephryn to the others, who nodded in acknowledgment.

With a return nod from Zephryn, the tension among them seemed to ease a touch. "We were attacked just half an hour ago. Shadow creatures," he quickly explained, his voice carrying a note of urgency. "Fortunately, our outer guards spotted them in time for us to get most of the village to the cellar and cast the seal." His voice trailed off, a hint of relief seeping into his words.

"Cellar?" Alestein couldn't help but interject, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "You have a cellar here? This whole place feels like a cellar," Alestein chimed in, sweeping his hand vaguely around the cavernous space.

"Just let him finish, dear," Sariandi gently chided from behind him, having successfully completed her spell.

"The guards may not have survived, though," Zephryn continued, his voice heavy with unspoken dread. "What about Nimbelle?" Fiztik asked abruptly, jerking upright with alarm flashing in his eyes.

Zephryn paused, his gaze dropping to the cavern floor. "No..." Fiztik murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes welling with tears. "No, your wife is fine. It's...it's just your son," Zephryn's words were hesitant, reluctant.

"Did they kill him?" Fiztik's voice wavered, strangled by emotion.

"No, they didn't kill him. They just...they took him. Him and some other younglings. And then...they disappeared, leaving their champion behind to cause havoc," Zephryn finished, his words trailing off into a sigh of resignation.

"We took care of that one," Lucksy interjected quickly, her words cutting through the tense silence.

"Why didn't you go after him?" Fiztik cried out, his good arm swinging out to slap his brother across the face. "My poor Trixit," he sobbed, his shoulders slumping, his body wracked with sorrow.

"I'm so sorry, Fiz. I wanted to, but my daughters... I had to..." Zephryn's voice cracked, his words dissolving into sobs.

In the wake of their heavy words, an awkward silence fell over the group, its weight pressing in on them from all sides. It was Zephryn who shattered the silence, his voice resonating with quiet determination. "I will fix this, Fiz. I will," he asserted, pulling himself to his feet. "I will go after them and get your son back. Even if it means following them into the pits." He attempted to straighten his posture, to project confidence, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him.

Fiztik, still seated, met his brother's gaze. There was respect there, but also a deep-seated fear. He shook his head slowly, placing a hand on his brother's worn leather boot. "What good will that do?" The words trembled from his lips, heavy with sorrow. "You will just get yourself killed." His eyes, glistening with unshed tears, drifted to the other three, silently pleading. "But you three..."

The sentence hung in the air, unfinished but crystal clear. Lucksy stood up, a distinct hesitance in her movements. "We have a mission," she began, casting a glance at Sariandi and Alestein. Sariandi shrugged helplessly, unable to meet her gaze. Lucksy turned to Alestein, catching a glimpse of him surreptitiously wiping a tear from his cheek, clearly moved by the heartfelt scene unfolding before them.

"I don't know, Lucks. It's up to you?" His voice was soft, his usual bravado muted beneath the weight of their dilemma.

"Up to me?" She shot back, her voice echoing her surprise. "Am I suddenly your chief now?" Her question hung in the air, unanswered. Alestein only responded with an apologetic shrug and a wry smile, followed by a rather loud blow into a well-used handkerchief.

With a sigh, Lucksy turned to her friends, then to the two gnomes. She shook her head, seemingly overwhelmed. "I need a moment. I'll be right back," she announced, her voice carrying a note of finality. As she walked off, the sobbing figure of Fiztik gradually receded into the distance, a chilling reminder of the stakes they were facing.

A little distance from the cluster of huddled figures, Lucksy found a perch overlooking the village. She quickly surveyed her surroundings, a precautionary habit ingrained over years of adventuring, before she allowed herself to sit. Dangling her legs over the edge of the cliff, she sighed deeply, her gaze trailing down to where Sariandi and Fiztik were examining the wound, while Alestein was engaged in a conversation with Zephryn. "I guess I really am in the lead here," she whispered to herself, the realization settling in with a weight she hadn't quite expected.

Her eyes fell upon the yawning chasm below her feet, its depth swallowed by an inky blackness. She found herself wondering what Ariann would do in her place. Despite their long-standing friendship, she still found herself questioning how Ariann would perceive her decisions. But this was about saving a child.

With a sudden burst of determination, she stood. "Luxe Obsidian," she affirmed aloud, her voice echoing off the cavern walls. "You are favored by both Tymora and Mystra. If I choose to save the child, luck and magic will cross our paths with Thorgar again." She cast one last look down at the village where a newcomer seemed to have joined the group. Without a second thought, she started her descent down the steep cliffside path.

"Lucksy!" Alestein's voice rose above the ambient noise of the cave as he heard her approach. Standing next to him was one of the outer guards of the village. "He actually saw where they took Tripsit!"

"Trixit," Fiztik automatically corrected, his voice strained. Every gaze in their vicinity now turned towards Lucksy, their expressions filled with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. She responded by folding her arms, her voice steady and commanding. "Then there is no second to lose. Where do we go?"

"The 'where' is easy," the guard replied, his voice hoarse from strain. "The 'how' is a different story entirely. They disappeared across the Spine Gap."

A groan escaped from Fiztik, his hand sweeping across his face in a gesture of despair. He shook his head, then raised his eyes to meet Lucksy's. "The Spine Gap is the only open space that connects us to the rest of the Northdark." His voice carried the weight of the situation, stating a fact that added a new layer of complexity to their mission.

Fiztik's words hung heavy in the air, painting a picture of an insurmountable chasm that lies below the Spine of the World. His gaze met Lucksy's, a glimmer of defeat lurking in his eyes.

"But what's so problematic about this path?" Lucksy challenged, determination glistening in her gaze, a stark contrast to the desolation in Fiztik's.

"That there is no actual path," Fiztik groaned, his voice echoing with despair. "Just one enormous chasm for miles on end."

"How," Alestein began, but the guard interrupted him before he could finish.

"Some of the shadow creatures can levitate," he croaked.

This caught Zephryn's attention. He turned to his brother and said, "Fiz, I think it may be time to try your batwings on the big chasm."

"Batwings?" Lucksy echoed, one eyebrow arching in curiosity. "What's that about?" A challenging glint in her eyes, she turned to Fiztik.

Fiztik looked torn, as though grappling with a decision he'd rather not make. After a few agonizing seconds of silence, he finally let out a resigned, "Alright, alright," while shaking his head in apparent disbelief, as if the idea itself was ludicrous.

Zephryn's face brightened at his brother's reluctant agreement. "I'll be right back," he assured them, before hastily darting off, weaving through the other gnomes who had finally mustered the courage to emerge from their hiding place.

Lucksy, hands still raised and eyebrows arched inquisitively, turned her attention back to Fiztik. "So?" she prodded, awaiting an explanation.

Fiztik sighed heavily. "The idea is that you'll wear a leather suit... with wings," he explained, pausing as though searching for the right words. "Well, they're not exactly wings, but you'll see when my brother comes back."

His hesitation was palpable as he broached the crux of the plan. "You'll have to jump off a cliff... and float across the chasm."

Sariandi's eyes widened in shock. "Float? You just mentioned the chasm spans miles!"

Fiztik nodded. "Yes, the hot volcanic air streams from the deepest parts of the Underdark should ensure you won't plunge to your deaths."

"Should?" Alestein echoed, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"My brother and I have tested this many times on smaller chasms in this part of the Northdark," Fiztik reassured them, even managing a small chuckle. "As you can see, it has never failed."

Lucksy seemed convinced. "Alright, we also have our magic if we need to adjust our course."

Alestein, however, looked far from convinced. "What am I supposed to do if something goes wrong? Wave my lute around?"

"Just stay close to me, Alestein," Sariandi murmured, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. He nodded, albeit with visible uncertainty.

In no time at all, Zephryn returned with an armful of winged suits, handing one to each of them. "So, you just have these in all our sizes?" Alestein questioned, a hint of surprise in his voice as he studied the suit in his hands.

"We aimed to make this a trade product. We still will when we survive this," Zephryn explained, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Fiztik simply nodded in agreement. "Now put them on!" He added, his voice carrying a note of uncharacteristic excitement.

Without a moment's hesitation, Lucksy began to don her suit, her swift movements prompting the others to follow suit. Zephryn, already suited in his own gear, spread his arms and legs wide, demonstrating how the leather flaps filled the spaces between his limbs.

"Did you slay some giant squirrels to make these suits?" Alestein grumbled, wrestling with his suit which seemed a size too small for his tall frame. A giggle escaped from both Fiztik and Sariandi.

Alestein paused in his struggle, looking up to meet Sariandi's gaze. "You actually look cute in that suit," he remarked, causing her to blush deeply and quickly look away.

Lucksy took control of the situation once more. "We'll rest and eat once we get across," she commanded, a certain sternness in her voice.

Alestein, still wrestling with his suit, responded with a sarcastic quip, "I'd rather die on a full stomach, but alright."

Momentarily, Zephryn turned away to bid his family farewell, his departure marked by the soft sobbing of his wife and daughters. In the midst of this emotional farewell, Lucksy, Sariandi, and Alestein shared a look of determination.

Nimbus, who had been eerily quiet, gave an approving hoot. "Yeah, you have wings. You have nothing to worry about, owl," Alestein shot back, rolling his eyes at the bird.

"Let's go," Lucksy commanded, the hint of impatience in her voice urging them into action. With that, they began their ascent up the path she had taken earlier, Zephryn leading the way.

In a surprisingly short span of time, they reached a large, protruding rock formation, bathed in the ethereal glow of luminescent vines that hung from the distant cave ceiling.

"This is where we jump to our deaths?" Alestein asked, his voice laced with a tinge of humor.

"Stop it," Lucksy laughed. Yet, it was Zephryn who captured the essence of the moment with his bold proclamation.

"This is where we set off in pursuit of the shadows and save my nephew," he said, his voice ringing with determination. He gestured towards the brightly pulsating mushroom tied to his back. "Keep an eye on this at all times," he instructed. "And you'll end up with me on the other side." With a bravery that Lucksy couldn't help but admire, he stepped off the cliff and, with seemingly little effort, glided away into the darkness.

"Just like that," Alestein muttered, a sigh escaping his lips.

Nimbus, perhaps sensing Sariandi's discomfort, launched from her shoulder and followed suit.

"You heard the little guy," Lucksy said, a bold grin on her face as she stepped forward, her heart free of fear. She felt the touch of both Tymora and Mystra as she spread her arms and legs, and an instant rush of warm air lifted her upwards.

She was flying.

A sense of liberation washed over her, freeing her from the doubts that had haunted her since childhood. The doubts about pleasing her parents, about living up to Ariann's expectations, all seemed to fall away, swallowed by the darkness below.

"I'm flying!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the vast expanse. Her proclamation was met with an ecstatic yell from Alestein, not far behind.

"Trixit, Thorgar, we're coming for you," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of their mission. As she bounced on the warm air currents of the Spine Gap, the walls of the caves around her slowly receded, swallowed by the vast expanse of the Underdark.