The trip from Athkatla to Windspear Hills would normally take two days on foot, but at the rate they were going, Ember expected it to take at least three. The months they had spent in captivity had taken their toll; she couldn't walk much farther or faster than she could the day she'd first set out from Candlekeep, and she had to use her staff as a walking support most of the time. By the time the trio reached a small inn, long after nightfall, Ember was exhausted; once she got settled in her small room, it did not take long for her to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
A staff is pretty useful anyway for a walker. I carried one with me all the way first time I walked the Pennine Way. Blisters are another matter. You'll have some, no matter what, unless you somehow retained your boots in Irenicus' dungeon.
I didn't mention it, but the dungeon was barefoot.
"Minsc?" she asked blearily, pulling her hand back in under the covers; she'd automatically reached for the dagger on the nightstand. "What's wrong?"
Good instincts.
A tad too good. Useful for adventuring, though.
There were little streaks of orange gold on the clouds, and the light was growing stronger. Songbirds were warbling from the bushes and trees around them; Ember listened to how their songs changed as the land brightened around them, with different tunes fading in and out of the chorus. Some she recognized from home, others were unfamiliar, but they all seemed to fit together, forming an everchanging river of sound.
Sounds like a beautiful spring day coming up.
Yep. (It's really easy to hear different birds going on at different stages when twilight lasts approximately 3 hours.)
I can do this.
Drawing a deep breath, Ember tentatively reached out to the life she could sense all around her.
It felt like coming home.
I feel the same way whenever I smell beer. But I was born in Burton on Trent.
Ah, one more place I wasn't born, then.
The forest thinned around them on the second day of their trip, and in the afternoon of the third day, they reached a hilly region with barely any trees at all. Instead, the landscape was dominated by hills, gullies, caverns, and vast stretches of gravel. Grey rocks the size of small hills jutted out of the ground at irregular intervals.
I've sometimes wondered what type of environment they were trying for there. It just seems really unnatural. Most of the other areas seem plausible, but I can't work out how the Windspear Hills work.
Most of the hills work for me. It's just that corner with the dryads that seems so utterly out of place.
"Gnolls!" Minsc growled, and sprinted in the direction of the sound.
He can tell that from harsh, gibbering laughter? Those ranger favoured enemy bonuses really add up.
Minsc knows nothing about bonuses, but he knows a gnoll when he hears one. Right, Boo?
How could mere humans outrun werewolves?
Throw the rubber ball in the opposite direction. Any that ignore it, smack on the nose with the rolled up newspaper and say in a firm, clear voice, "Bad Dog."
It's bad to smack dogs with newspapers. You might injure them, and often they won't know why they are being attacked.
Ember laughed with relief. By the Lady, we're saved! "It's only a dryad," she told Yoshimo, nudging his shoulder.
The Kara-Turan blinked a couple times. "I... I will never have occasion to refer to one as 'only a dryad', I don't think."
Take an axe to one of their trees, and then try using the phrase, "It's only a dryad." Not that a druid should be doing such things....
Heh, it'd almost be fun to see someone try that
On the other side of the tunnel lay a valley unlike anything that surrounded it. The rock wall enclosed a deep blue lake that was surrounded by a myriad of trees of every shape and size, all of them vibrant with life. Butterflies flitted through the air, alighting where they pleased on colorful flowers. The place seemed unreal, but at the same time, it felt more real than the barren wilderness that surrounded it.
Is this a place in Faerun, or have they crossed into Faerie?
A little of both, maybe? (Faerun, but the dryad queen did some redecorating)
"Boo wants to know if the Afterlife looks like this," Minsc whispered to Ember.
Which afterlife? I could believe it for Minsc and Ember, but there are some who wouldn't get it.
Then it's a good thing that it was Minsc and not, say, Yoshimo who asked.
A tall woman with hair like a sunrise approached them.
She uses a lot of hair dye, doesn't she.
Nope. I like giving my dryads freaky colours.
"Yes, little brother, they are safe," the queen said. "I thank you all for your aid; you have braved the evil that dwells in this land for our sake. We will not forget. This forest will always welcome you." She pressed her pale green lips to Minsc's forehead, then to Yoshimo's.
The dryad queen looked into Ember's eyes. "Be true to yourself, and you may claim your truth," she finally said. She kissed Ember's forehead. "Stay a while, little sister, and heal."
Don't think that'll happen in a few days, at last not all the way.
Well, maybe not, but this grove is quite a bit better than your average inn.
"So, how do we find this contact of yours?" she asked Yoshimo.
"Coo!" someone called out from an alley. "You'd be the one I be looking for, if I not be mistaken. Ember be yer name, aye?"
And you're Gaelan Bayle. Half man, half pigeon.
