Chapter 50: Ulcaster
Edwin rummaged furiously through the stockpile of staves at the Beregost smithy. It was a warm, sunny autumn morning, and Imoen was humming as she skipped around the store in search of interesting items, but he was doing his best to ignore such irrelevant details. As he had predicted, most of the staves were worthless; heavy, unenchanted, and probably with splinters. No self respecting wizard would willingly settle for such inadequacy...
There.
It was made of pale wood inlaid with gold. It had been polished to perfect smoothness, and had the familiar, characteristic feel of a magical weapon. Its enchantments were not overly powerful, but it was at the very least a match to the staff that had been so unfairly taken away from him.
It would suffice.
He pulled the staff out of the weapons rack and placed it on the bench they were gathering their merchandise on. Kivan had already almost filled the bench with several bundles of arrows, a few bags of sling bullets, and a set of enchanted leather armour.
"Hey, Eddie, would you look at this?" Imoen chirped from behind a shelf.
"(Now what?) What is it?" he asked with a sigh.
The girl held out a handful of small darts.
"I fail to see the significance of these."
"They're stunning darts," Imoen said. "You throw them at someone, and if you hit good enough, you'll stun them for a bit."
"I know what stunning darts are."
"I saw them laying there, and remembered how good you were at throwing rocks. So I thought you should have some of them! They could buy you some time in a tight spot, I think," she said with a broad grin.
"I... see," he said slowly. It was a good idea.
"Well?" she said.
"I shall take them," Edwin said. Imoen smiled and placed the darts on the bench alongside the other items.
---
After many insufferable miles across an uneven hill landscape (which made Edwin even more pleased to have a staff in his possession once again), the three of them reached the Ulcaster ruins in the late afternoon.
"So far, I am not impressed," Edwin said. "(No, not impressed at all.)" A collection of tumbled stone walls crowned the grassy hill before them. The builders had clearly at least had the sense to import granite for building, as the stones used in the buildings were darker and looked more sturdier than anything it'd be possible to make from the local rocks (a brittle sandstone that crumbled at the lightest touch). That did not, however, change the fact that there were no actual buildings left. There didn't appear to even be anywhere to begin to search for artifacts.
"Maybe there's more below the surface. Cellars, storage rooms, that kind of stuff," Imoen said.
"We shall investigate it," Kivan said, "but be watchful. There may be hidden dangers."
A narrow path led up the side of the hill, and once they'd disposed of a few hobgoblins that were foolish enough to get in their way, they followed the path up to the ruins. Up close, they were even less impressive.
"This is a waste of time," Edwin said. "(This is what one gets for listening to local buffoons.)"
"Giving up so easily, Eddie?" the infuriating girl said.
"Edwin Odesseiron never gives up!" he exclaimed, but she merely grinned at him and ran off to the far end of the ruins. "(That girl has entirely too little respect for my greatness,)" he muttered unhappily, and looked around. He was standing in a large square outlined by stones. It had to be a study hall, he deduced, and the two largest boulders had to mark where the entrance once was. Yes, and where Imoen stood were several smaller rooms, probably quarters or storage rooms.
"There's so little left," he heard Imoen say. He glanced her way and saw her nudge a rock with her foot. The last rays of the setting sun caught her hair as the breeze whipped it around; for a moment, it looked like a living flame danced around her head. Then the sun set, extinguishing the illusion. Edwin turned his attention back to the stones that he had determined were once the floor of a dais.
"The stones were taken away for other buildings, perhaps," the elf suggested.
"Don't be so stupid," Edwin said.
"I don't see what's so stupid about that," Imoen said.
Edwin sighed deeply. "What is so stupid about it is the fact that the locals are too scared of this place to go anywhere near it," he said. "It is a haunted magic school, remember? (Why must I always point out the obvious?)"
"...the best of schools..." a voice whispered.
"Who said that?!" Edwin demanded.
"...a storehouse of arcane knowledge..."
"Show yourself!" Edwin shouted. "(I am not scared, damn it!)"
"Look," Imoen whispered, pointing quietly towards the dais.
"I don't see anything," Edwin said. "(A particularly thick patch of mist, perhaps... mist with arms and legs... oh dear.)"
"...lost, all lost..." the apparition moaned.
"What can we do for you?" Kivan asked quietly.
"...all for knowledge did we strive... nothing left..." the ghost said. "Hope would return with the retrieval of the simplest of tomes... beneath the rubble... on the lowest floors... return hope... history is so important..."
"Didn't I tell you there was more to this place?" Edwin exclaimed.
"Sure you did," Imoen said. She turned towards him, and her expression froze. "Um, Eddie... run!"
Edwin turned around, and found himself face to face with a dozen or so animated skeletons. He quickly raised a hand and fired a volley of magic missiles at one of them. It crumpled to the ground with a satisfying crunching sound, but the others advanced. He took Imoen's advice, and sprinted towards her and the elf. She was firing her own magic missiles at the skeletons, while Kivan used his war hammer to smash the ones that got too close. Several ghouls were now visible behind the skeletons. Edwin noted with some surprise that the moaning creatures swung their large fists at anything in their path, including the stones of the ruins.
"There are too many!" Kivan shouted. "Fall back!"
Edwin's shoulder exploded with pain, and he staggered backwards. The ground seemed to vanish beneath his feet. Is this the end? he wondered.
Then, everything went black.
---
Something cool and invigorating trickled down Edwin's throat. He sputtered, then swallowed most of it. He opened his eyes, and found himself looking at Imoen's very worried face.
"Are you all right?" the girl demanded. He noticed a half empty bottle of healing potion in her hand.
"What happened?" he asked, not feeling comfortable without a complete grasp of the situation.
"Throwing dagger in your shoulder. I took it out," she said, and held up the offending object. He winced. "And then you fell down this stairwell. You hit your head pretty badly on the steps," she continued.
Edwin looked around. In the dim glow of Imoen's magelight, he could make out dusty walls and some rubble. "Here?" he asked.
"We are below the ruins," Kivan said. "The undead are waiting above, but they should depart by dawn. I do not think they can descend."
"I see," Edwin said, thoughtfully rubbing the bump on his head. "(Any treasures must be down here.) We must explore this area while we wait."
"I knew you'd say that," Imoen said with a grin.
The three of them walked through a maze of crisscrossing hallways. Every now and then, Imoen stopped to disarm a trap, and every now and then, Kivan shot arrows into the darkness. His targets, whatever they were, died with loud whimpers.
After what felt like hours, they reached a large room that seemed fairly well preserved. And in a side alcove...
"Look at that, Eddie!" Imoen exclaimed as the magelight revealed a pile of books and scrolls and who knew what else. "Let me just check for traps!" The girl darted forward, and a wolf darted out of the alcove, snarling and lunging at Imoen.
It was the largest wolf Edwin had ever seen.
Imoen screamed and rolled sideways, dodging the wolf's first attack. It growled angrily and turned to charge her again. One of Kivan's arrows bounced harmlessly off the wolf's side. The elf cursed. Edwin Odesseiron, the greatest wizard of all time, acted.
A stunning dart to its buttocks, to halt its attack. Then, a flame arrow, setting its fur ablaze. Then magic missiles. Imoen (the clever girl) was pelting it with her own missiles even as she lay sideways on the floor. The creature was whimpering with pain by the time Kivan broke its neck with a swift hammer blow.
"Thanks, Eddie," Imoen said, and wrapped her arms around his neck. For a moment, this irrational emotional display annoyed him. Then his heart swelled with pride.
"It was nothing. I am, after all, Edwin Odesseiron," he said. "(Now, about that treasure...)"
Imoen let go of him, and they sifted through the pile in the alcove. Although most of it was rubbish, they found numerous scrolls and potions, and even the occasional wand, making the trip more than worth their while.
"Hey, I found a history book," Imoen said, holding up a dusty tome. "I wonder if that ghost would want it?"
"Who knows?" Kivan said.
"It does not matter, for he can't have it," Edwin said.
"Says who?" Imoen replied. She picked up the book and hurried towards the exit.
"It's dangerous! I demand you stop!" Edwin shouted, but to no avail. He glanced exasperatedly at the elf, and the two of them ran after her. "(Women,)" Edwin muttered between breaths.
They didn't catch up with the foolish girl until they reached the stairwell to the surface. Imoen was standing at the top, talking with the ghost.
"...to teach once more... in a celestial class..." Edwin heard the ghost say.
"Good luck!" Imoen said.
"...come, children... we will prevent the same from happening... some day..." the ghost said. The skeletons and other undead creatures gathered around the apparition. Edwin gripped Imoen by the arm and pulled her back from the horrific sight.
There was a blinding flash of light. "...we all shall live again... someday..." the ghost's voice whispered.
When the light faded, Edwin, Imoen and Kivan were alone on the hill.