A.N.: So a plot for this new series of chapters is slowly coming together, though I won't pretend to have it all figured out yet. I was already writing this before the 'Descent Into Avernus' module was released, based on the small amount of information that had been revealed in interviews like the 'Lore you Should Know' segments on the D&D YouTube channel, as well as older D&D lore such as from the 'Baldur's Gate' games. I sort of do a mashup of old-lore and new lore, such as what Chris Perkins did with the Waffle Crew as he took them through Barovia. I wanted to have this story still be somewhat plausible in terms of where Chris might take the Crew next, and yet still deviate somewhat from the books so as not to be too spoilerish. Yet it's impossible to move forward in this story without having *some spoilers* for the new module, so you have been warned. Also, given that we only have a few hints from Chris about his plans for the hells, and the fact that I've tied together most of the open DCA plot threads already in the first 'Aftermath' series, I'm going to be stuck making most of this up from here on out (however, I will still try to incorporate the episodes in Acq Inc with Evelyn in them). I will also try to stay in continuity with the C Team, but keep in mind that at this point in the story, Lathander is still a prisoner of the Sanguilith.
Evelyn looked out at the shining city in the distance, its tall white walls a stark contrast to the shadowed wilderness in which she now stood. And yet the large orb of blinding flames that hovered far above its towers, like a second sun, cast its protective light for miles across the countryside. Evelyn imagined that if they had only made camp just a little further down the hill, she might have been able to feel its warm glow upon her face.
"Ye part o' some paladin company out of Elturel?" asked the wagonmaster, joining her at the viewpoint.
His assumption wasn't surprising, given Evleyn's attire, but it always pained her to have to explain her new situation. Ducking her head, she answered simply, "No, I'm not a paladin. And this is my first time here. I only wish we were a little closer to that light."
The man sucked his teeth. "Pretty, aint it? A gift from Amanuator, some say, to all the righteous orders that live in that city. But it's more trouble than its worth, when the light keeps ye from catching any sleep. No, we'll camp here tonight, then move on to Elturel in the morning."
Amanuator. Evelyn had never previously given much thought to the Heresy of the Three Faced Sun, and yet it had now become one of the tenets of her faith that she clung most tightly to. If Amanuator's light could persist here the entire time Lathander reigned as the Sun God, then he had never truly disappeared! By that same token, even with the interloper Krisperkins now taking Lathander's place, a part of her god surely remained in this world. Even if everyone else abandoned him to follow the new Dusk God, Evelyn would never give up her faith. What if her prayers were the only thing keeping Lathander alive? No, even if she could no longer act as his paladin, Evelyn swore she would never renounce him.
"Is the caravan stopping at Baldur's Gate afterwards?" Evelyn asked, as the wagonmaster began to turn away.
"Eh?" he said, looking over his shoulder at her in surprise. "Nay, none o' the merchants in this group would go anywhere near that place. Even with you and your friends and the rest o' the security we've got, they'd likely get half their wares stolen before we even passed through the front gate." When he saw the disappointment on her face, his expression softened and he said, "I'm sure you'll find some river captain in Elturel willing to take you there. Otherwise there's the road; it aint that far."
Evelyn nodded her thanks, then walked back to the circle of wagons where the others were gathered. It reminded her a little of the Vistani camps they had visited in Barovia. Not surprisingly, Paultin seemed right at home, offering to entertain the merchants with his music whenever they made camp. Evelyn often added her own voice to his bagpipes. Just the day before, she had revealed to him her private decision to also become a bard, as it would be a new way for her to express the light inside of her. Rather than chastise her as she had feared, Paultin had actually begun giving her pointers on her panpipe playing.
When he saw her approach the campfire, he scooted over to make room for her on the log someone had dragged over. She smiled at him and took out the panpipes he had returned to her. She had been touched that he had kept her present safe throughout all the adventures they had gone though since that sorrowful day she had prepared herself to join Lathander forever. She now refused to dwell on the possibility that maybe that had been her last opportunity to ever see her god again.
Paultin smiled and shook his head as the merchants passed wine skins around the fire, although he was in fact clenching his jaw shut with every shred of willpower he had. He couldn't afford to get drunk. Somehow, he had become their group's strongest protector. He dearly missed the days when he could goof around and not have to worry about anyone else, because he knew that Evelyn's axe, or Diath's wit, or Strix's magic could take care of any problem. He was just the backup; the comedy relief, who hung out with the party more out of boredom than any sense of duty. And yet slowly, more and more responsibility got dumped onto his shoulders. The burdens of leadership were what had driven Diath slowly mad, Paultin was sure of it. Towards the end, the poor guy couldn't even make any decisions, and Paultin of all people had become the voice of reason. But now, who was going to lead them when it was Paultin's turn to go insane?
Paultin's eyes turned to Simon, who was sitting on a rock close to the light of the fire, reading van Richten's journal. Paultin had tried reading it on the start of their trip, but it was filled with boring descriptions of odd rituals and medicines and monster life cycles that put him to sleep. Simon said that the stories reminded him of Barovia, so Paultin let the boy take it. No, he's not a boy anymore, Paultin reminded himself, looking at his son's well grown physique. It still irked Paultin a little that Simon had not become a bard, despite once telling his father that it was his dream. Paultin supposed it was sort of his own fault, since he hadn't been around during most of Simon's childhood to teach him. Now that Evelyn had expressed an interest in music, he felt obliged to teach her, though he felt she should have tried to multiclass into something more martial. After all, how many bards does a party really need? he secretly wondered.
*Bards are fun to play* said the voice in his head. Paultin couldn't really argue with that logic.
He saw Evelyn approach, and let his current song die down so he could have a few moments to instruct her. She took out her panpipes and began to head over, then cocked her head at something towards the woods. Paultin had already stopped playing, so the area was relatively quiet, but he still hadn't heard anything surprising. Almost trance-like, she began heading away from the group.
"Sorry folks, brb wc and all that," he said, and tapped Simon on the shoulder as he passed. The barbarian noted the worried expression on Paultin's face and quickly put the book away and began following.
Evelyn's flying boots set a quick pace that caused Paultin and Simon some difficulty as they had to weave through the thick underbrush. When she finally stopped in a small clearing, it took a few moments for them to catch up, at which point they heard a familiar voice address her.
"I'd have thought by now you'd realized by now how risky being a werewolf was, Evelyn."
The ex-paladin continued to look dazed as Paultin and Simon emerged from the trees. To their surprise, they saw a figure standing before them, its face hidden within the shadows of Manshoon's cloak, holding a small silver whistle in the shape of a wolf. The voice, however, was unmistakable.
"Diath," Paultin nodded at him warily, sidling quickly to Evelyn's side. "Not sure how I feel about seeing you in that cloak."
The rogue stretched his shoulders, letting the fabric fall open to reveal a dark blue tunic and cloth pants. It was odd not seeing him in leather armor, and without Gutter at his side or his trademark amethyst pendant. His green eyes narrowed as they took in Simon and his condition. "I guess this must be Murderbot. You grew up rather quickly."
Paultin's son pulled Treebane from his belt. "I never really understood that nickname, or why you never seemed to like me very much, Uncle Diath. But you should know that I'll do my hardest to protect my family from you, and that includes Shard and Shem."
Diath grimaced. "You're out of your depth. Go take a nap while the adults have a chat." Then to Paultin's amazement, Diath put out his palm and out of nowhere, Handrew plopped onto it with a pinch of rose petals Paultin knew came from his own stash. Diath gripped the severed hand and spoke the incantation, and Simon suddenly fell to the ground, snoring. Paultin was about to kneel down to wake him, but Diath warned, "Don't touch him. I think it's only fitting, don't you, that he experience what it's like to be hit by one of his darts? Anyways, this won't take long."
The bard frowned as he stared at Daith and Handrew, unsure which betrayal hurt him most. "I guess what they said about you going crazy on Sigil is true then. Is that where you learned magic, or is it the cape?"
Diath shook his head. "Let's just say I was bound to pick up a few things, being around you magic users for so long. Plus the full benefits of this cloak aren't unlocked unless you're a sorcerer, warlock or wizard."
Paultin sighed. "I should have held onto it a little longer then."
"Well, it all worked out in my favor. Walnot passed it onto the Six, and they gave it to me as a sign-on bonus."
Very discretely, Paultin put his hands behind his back and began to summon his magic. Chris Perkins was instantly at the forefront of his mind, offering his power, but this spell needed no extra help. To keep Diath distracted, the bard remarked, "You know that the Six use people, right? They just want your life energy to work their crazy contracts."
Diath shrugged. "That's all anyone is to people in this world; a means to an end. Apparently that's all Strix and I were to Asmodeus - a way to combine a celestial and infernal soul and make a host body for him to-"
Paultin joined his hands together in a clap, aiming them straight at Diath. The thunderwave projected outwards with enough energy that it was actually a visible force, even before it started tearing away the nearby vegetation. Handrew scuttled quickly to safety, but it hit Diath straight on... and dispersed without any visible effect.
"Good to know the cloak works," Diath said, before calmly carrying on with his monologue, as if Paultin had not just tried to kill him. "The Six got me in touch with Dran Enterprises, who apparently also have a beef with Omin. But the interesting thing about Dran Enterprises is that they've spent a lot of time researching this thing called the Sanguilith." Paultin felt a stab of dread as Diath pulled out a small glass jar containing an amethyst crystal. "They were very excited to have the chance to study my K'thrissmas gift, and tell me how I could use it to control those who have been tainted by its power."
Paultin's eyes darted towards Evelyn, who still seemed in a trance. He began to shake her, hoping she'd come out of it, but at that moment Diath began blowing into his whistle. Paultin couldn't hear anything, but Evelyn winced in pain.
"Stop it, you're hurting her!" Paultin cried, looking imploringly at Diath. "Evelyn cares about you; she doesn't deserve this!"
Diath paused long enough to answer, "Evelyn made this choice. She has only herself to blame."
The ex-paladin's body suddenly twisted and sprouted a thick pelt of white and golden fur. Her salivating jaws snapped at the air, and she lashed out towards Diath with long black claws. Diath held out the jar, and the crystal seemed to emit a faint pulse of amethyst light. Evelyn took a step back and whined.
"Interesting. Even with Lathander a slave of the Sanguilith, it seems Evelyn is able to resist its control. No matter; I have my own slave to take care of her."
Something large and gray burst out of the bushes and launched itself at the werepom. Paultin stared at the creature in disbelief. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, a much larger and even older version of Waffles was now attacking Evelyn. The odd thing was that one of its legs was completely covered in amethyst crystals. Paultin wanted to help, but the two creatures were thrashing so wildly that all he could do was drag Simon away to safety. He looked back to where Diath had been and saw that the rogue had now vanished.
A whistle that Paultin could actually hear came from deeper in the woods, and Waffles instantly tore herself loose from Evelyn and raced back through the trees. The werepom seemed to brace itself to pursue, but then staggered and gripped its head. Slowly, Paultin watched as the fur receded and its body shrank back into Evelyn's old form. She panted and held onto a nearby trunk for balance.
"Did I scratch or bite you or Simon?" Evelyn asked worriedly, ignoring her own injuries.
"No. Do you know what the hell just happened?" Paultin asked angrily. He took out his wine flask, which sadly hadn't held wine in weeks, and poured the water over his son's face. Simon finally opened his eyes and sputtered.
"I heard a kind of whistle, and then something seemed to take control of me. I saw Diath, but I couldn't really make out what he was saying. And then I heard the whistle again, only that time it hurt me and I felt myself transform. I thought I could control it this time; I thought because it was a blessing and not a curse, that it wouldn't be like the other times-" Evelyn broke down and began to cry.
"It's not your fault mom, Diath had that magic whistle. I think I remember it now - it came from that underwater chest he found with Critter." Simon reached out to give her a hug, and she smiled at him gratefully.
They began to hear sounds of activity coming from the direction of camp, and the three of them exchanged worried glances before dashing back through the woods.
"Diath's gonna be after Shem!" Simon reminded them, racing ahead. Paultin was already going as fast as he could. He might not be as invested in protecting those two strangers as Simon and Evelyn were, but Diath had definitely gotten under his skin tonight, and Paultin was hoping for another shot at him.
When he finally emerged from the trees, he saw that most of the merchants and teamsters were massed around the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley and the city where they'd be heading tomorrow. Paultin had already taken in the sights earlier, and while he admitted it looked fairly impressive, he wasn't sure why anyone would still be staring at it now.
And then he realized that something was indeed different. The glow that had emanated from the sky over city was now gone. As Paultin approached the viewpoint with Evelyn and Simon in tow, he could see that indeed, the entire city of Elturel was missing, with only a deep crater left in its place.
"Horrible, isn't it?" asked Shem, coming up alongside them. "We just now noticed the light missing. There was no meteor strike or collision or any warning. The city was just suddenly not there."
"I sense fiendish magic," whispered Shard, her golden eyes darting around the campsite suspiciously. "That orb did more than offer light; it repelled evil for miles around."
"Did either of you happen to spot Diath or Waffles around camp?" asked Simon in a low voice. The two looked at him in wide-eyed surprise.
"We were ambushed just now," explained Paultin with a growl. "I don't know if Diath could make a whole town disappear, but I have heard that the contracts the Six use can do some crazy stuff."
Shard looked at Shem worriedly. "If Diath is here, he might be coming after us to reclaim the Lorcatha soul."
"All right everyone, the wagonmasters have decided we're striking camp tonight and heading back to Daggerford," announced the leader of their caravan. "Whatever madness is going on here, we're getting as far away from it as we can."
"But wait, shouldn't we alert someone?" asked Evelyn, surprised at their response.
Some of the merchants stared at her, while others pointedly avoided her gaze. One of the caravan guards patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. "Don't be too hard on 'em. If a whole town of paladins can get wiped out just like that, what good can any of the rest of us do?"
"What if there are still people down there who need help?" she asked stubbornly, reminding Paultin of the time she had insisted on returning to Port Nyanzaru after the explosion. Back then, Paultin and the others had managed to convince her to stay, although it had required manipulating her to feel guilty about all the other times she had brought them into danger without thinking.
"All right, screw the rest of these guys. Let's go down there and see what we can do," Paultin suggested. He turned away so the others wouldn't see him blush as Evelyn threw him a bright smile of appreciation.
As they neared the crater, they were faced with the troubling realization that there wasn't going to be anyone left to rescue. Beyond the city walls, even the farm sheds, shepherd hovels, and the entire length of the fisherman's wharf had also disappeared.
"This reminds me of what my mom said Shemeshka had told her about Ash Town, that city that got pulled into hell for the signing of the Skizziks-Lorcatha Accords," Shem muttered softly.
Shard shook her head. "That makes no sense. This was supposed to be a city of light; a beacon of goodness for the entire region. What possible use could devils have for it in hell? It would make more sense to just destroy this place."
Simon gave her a hard nudge in the ribs with his elbow, then pointed his chin towards Evelyn, who looked sorrowfully at the desolation around them. She had set her heart on offering help in this disaster. The fact that there was nobody left to save only made her feelings of helplessness worse.
Then suddenly they heard a shout coming from the river. Out of the cloud of fog, they saw a silhouette approaching. "Ho there! Are you all right?"
Evelyn waved her arms wildly and called back, "Hey! We're ok! Do you need help?"
They saw a single man break through the mist. He carried a long staff and an odd brown tunic wrapped around his body, with a green symbol tattooed on his forehead. When he saw their party, he moved surprisingly quickly to join them.
"I am Marcus, one of the Avowed of Candlekeep. My Master the First Reader sent me here to investigate this calamity. Did you see what happened?"
"We were camped up on that hill," Shem said, pointing back towards their old camp. "We saw the light of the Companion until about an hour ago, when suddenly everything went dark. There wasn't an explosion or any sound of attack. We've been looking for survivors, but you're the first living person we've seen since we got here."
Marcus's sharp eyes examined both Shem and Shard closely. "I sense dark magic afoot here, and you yourselves are shrouded by strange powers. I think it might be wise for me to take all of you back with me for questioning."
"Hold up, what gives you the right to take us anywhere?" Paultin protested. But the strange man began whirling his staff, and as he did so, the mists began to close in around them. Simon half-hoped they were being taken to Barovia, but as the fog suddenly lifted, they found themselves standing in the middle of a stone bridge arching over a deep ravine. Before them was a set of immensely tall green doors, with a stern-looking guardian standing watch beside them. Like Marcus, he didn't seem to carry any weapons other than a staff.
"Keeper of the Emerald Door, these people witnessed the calamity at Elturel. I am bringing them to the First Reader for questioning."
The door guard grimaced at them, then rapped at the door with his staff in a specific pattern. The great doors slowly swung open, and Simon and the others gasped as they saw endless rows of towers poking out of the mists. Marcus led them down a long stone path, across courtyards, ramparts, and small gardens. Simon could see his parents occasionally whisper to each other, and wondered excitedly if they were going to try to break out. He had never fought a monk before, but he had confidence Treebane would easily turn their staffs to splinters.
Finally they were led to an ominous building with jet-black walls that gleamed like obsidian. Marcus bid them to wait in the courtyard, and entered alone.
Simon immediately turned to the others. "What should we do?"
Evelyn fingered the Heart of Spinelli, but didn't draw it. "They haven't asked for our weapons. I wish I could still detect evil and find out whose side these guys are on."
"What side are we even on?" Paultin asked. "We have no idea what mess we're involved in here. What the hell even is this place?"
They heard someone tsk behind them, and everyone spun around in surprise. Hunched over and gripping her staff, seeming like the most frail halfling in all the world, was Rosie Beestinger. Another monk stood beside her, wrapped in dark black robes, with their face hidden in a cowl. The staff they clutched looked familiar, etched with strange glowing green runes along its shaft.
"Paultin Seppa, you are standing before the Hall of Shadow, deep within the library fortress of Candlekeep," intoned the elderly grandmother. "You'll find weapons to be useless here, as well as your magic. Only your wits and skills will protect you, assuming you still have any. But don't you fret, you're about as safe here as you'd be in Sigil. Isn't that right, dear?"
And then the hooded stranger beside her lowered her hood. Strix Beestinger looked shyly down at her feet, as everyone else began to shout in surprise.
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