EPISODE 41:A WARM WELCOMEThe indistinct murmur of voices intruded on the fuzzy warmth of deep sleep that surrounded Vash like a thick blanket. There were two voices, one deep and masculine, the other softer and feminine. Vash groaned and nuzzled deeper into the soft pillow under his head, pulling the blanket further up over his shoulders, enjoying the rare feeling of being somewhere warm, soft, and secure.
A flash of paranoia ignited in Vash’s mind.
He wasn’t sure where he was or who the people in the room with him were. Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his eyes a crack. The room was dimly lit, with a shaft of morning sunshine showing between half-drawn curtains. It wasn’t a small room, but it felt cozy. Directly across from Vash was another single-person bed. Even in the dim light, Vash recognized the occupant.
Eyes closed, stripped of armor, tunic, and leathers, Jabez seemed smaller. The dwarf was bare-chested, the thick hair on his arms and chest was an iron gray, much like the streaks in his beard. His body had the hard muscles of a fighter, but was more wiry than Vash had expected. Layers of armor and a dwarf’s natural physique made Jabez seem stockier than he really was.
Bandages wrapped around Jabez’s shoulder and a small crystal floated in the air above his head. Vash peered at it groggily, not understanding what was happening or where this place was. As his mind came more awake, pain blossomed in a variety of places on Vash’s body. The gash on his shoulder from the Hollowmound spider attack burned slightly, as did the scaleback slashes on his back. The wounds felt tight, as if someone had pulled the skin together.
Vash thought.
He sank slowly into his Core, feeling for how much damage he suffered from the Mana Burn. To his surprise, the ragged soul pieces were already knitting themselves together around his refilled Core. Mana flowed through his meridians like a gentle brook. Connected to his Core, Vash could almost feel his body repairing itself, his Wayfarer medallion sending out gentle pulses of healing energy.
Groggily, Vash turned towards the voices. His bed was one of many in a row, it turned out. On his other side, sitting on an empty bed, was Corwin. The big man had also doffed his armor and gear. He looked clean and comfortable in a fresh shirt and trousers. Vash also realized that this was the first time in a while that he had seen Corwin without his sword.
Vash mused.
Standing next to Corwin was a slender young woman. She was comely, with a quiet, reserved demeanor, though Vash couldn’t help but notice that she give Corwin an encouraging smile as they talked. Her blonde hair pulled back into a single braid and secured with a length of leather cord. The woman wore the simple white and brown robes of a Temple novitiate. A dull iron wheel with nine spokes hung on a cord around her neck.
“ — At this point it’s just simple exhaustion.” The woman said, continuing her conversation with Corwin. She kept her voice low to avoid disturbing the sleeping patients. “Your friend had several wounds that the Guild Marker was keeping from getting infected, but too much longer, and even that magic would have worn away. From what I hear about the Underlands, any wound can become septic, or worse, in a matter of hours, from the things down there. I’m honestly quite surprised he fared as well as he did.”
“Vash has always been tough.” Corwin said, a note of affection in his voice. “Ever since we were kids. Never gave up, no matter how hard it got. He’s a fighter. I always admired that about him.”
A spark of embarrassment flared in Vash, but he tamped it down.
“Your master, on the other hand,” the young cleric continued. “Is a more complicated issue. When you brought him out of the Underlands, he had severe Mana Burn. It was a miracle he survived. The fabric of his spirit basically shredded from overuse. Between the Hollowmound poison and the wounds he suffered, Master Jabez was running a series of Major Talents on a nearly constant basis. Even for someone young and healthy, that would be an incredible strain. With him being a Dahr, that makes things even more complicated.”
“How so?” Corwin asked, concern clear in his voice.
“The Elder Blood — the Dahr and the Vanan — have problems with anything kind of damage to their spirit. They don’t heal it quite as well as others, like a human, might.” The cleric said. “Their spirits are more rigid, brittle, the scars they form are thicker and don’t handle mana as well. So, right now his body is trying to move mana through his meridians to heal damage to his body, but its being impeded by the state of his spirit. Sister Clea has done all she can at this point, as a Chosen of Taella. That’s not insignificant.”
“Thank you, Sister…” Corwin broke off, his brow furrowed, obviously searching for the Cleric’s name.
Vash saw the disappointment flicker in her eyes, even though her kind smile remained in place. “Sera. But I’m not a full Sister yet, just a novice.”
Sera touched the nine-spoked wheel gently. Vash thought he saw a second flicker of disappointment there.
A soft chime sounded somewhere above him. Sera and Corwin turned to look in Vash’s direction. Sera looked relieved at the interruption. She looked at something above his head and then down at his face, giving Vash a surprised smile. “Oh good! It seems your friend is awake.”
Corwin startled, then broke into a broad grin, immediately kneeling at Vash’s bedside. “Hey! How are you feeling?”
Vash blinked slowly, then propped himself up on his elbows with some effort. “Like I just spent a week being pummeled in the Underlands.”
Corwin gave a short laugh. “It wasn’t over three days.”
“Feels like more.” Vash grumbled. As he sat up, he almost hit his head on the small floating crystal. It shone a bright green, in contrast to the crystal that hovered above Jabez in the other bed, which shone a pale yellow. “What happened? Last thing I remember was some elf girl shooting one of the Hammerworms.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“That would be Morwen.” Sera said. “She brought you in after you passed out.”
“Well, that’s embarrassing.” Vash said, looking around for his clothes.
“With the amount of Mana Burn you sustained I’m surprised you could stay conscious as long as you did.” Sera said, maneuvering around Corwin and lifting a hand to the green crystal, mumbling something to herself which caused the crystal to chime again in a different tone. “She was quite impressed.”
“A part-blood impressing a Vanan, will wonders never cease.” Vash said, sarcastically.
Sera looked down at him. “I wouldn’t let her hear you say that. Morwen is no more Vanan than you are. She’s a Naeleshi, came down from Nosraval with Master Rowan about five years back.”
“Naeleshi? A shadow elf? I thought they were a myth.” Vash said, incredulous. The Eth Mitaan had talked little about the other families of elves in the world. He knew that the Kaeleshi in Vinya-Easain were a kind of cousins to the Vanan, wilder and more in tune with the natural world. The Naeleshi were even rarer and more mysterious. Supposedly, they lived in small enclaves in the far north, in the deep forests of Nosraval and Kundaraak. Intensely secretive, they were more legend than fact, according to Byar.
“Morwen’s not fond of that title either.” Sera cautioned. “And she’s very real. Nice enough, but a bit stand-offish.”
Vash shook his head and sat up. “I guess my gambit worked, Corwin?”
Corwin nodded. “It was touch and go for a while. Most of the worms followed you since you were drawing so much attention to yourself. A few stayed behind, thinking we’d be an easier meal. Had to climb while fending them off. Wasn’t easy, but definitely easier than trying to do it with a dozen of those things attacking. They cleared out when we reached the big mist cloud, saw nothing past that point.”
“There’s a ward there.” Sera said, looking over several bottles on the table next to Vash’s bed. “It’s supposed to keep everything tainted by the shadow from crossing that point. There are a few gaps, which is why folk like Morwen keep watch when they’re able.”
“So, what happens now?” Vash asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Corwin’s smile faltered a bit, and he glanced over at where Jabez lay. “Now, we get you some fresh clothes and we go talk to the Lodgemaster.”
The off-white shirt and gray trousers that Sera gave Vash were comfortable and fit relatively well. He felt a little self-conscious stepping outside without his armor and weapons. Corwin said that they were being mended and cleaned and they’d get them back in a few days. Vash couldn’t help but think that the Guild had confiscated their gear until they got some answers.
The infirmary was a small plaster-and-wood building, one of a small group that surrounded the distinctive octagon of a temple. It sat on a small hill overlooking the chaotic groups of buildings clustered around the Amica River. At the very edge of the village, Vash could see a sheer drop off and the thunderous cascading waterfall that gave the place its name.
Perched on the very edge of the cliff was a boxy building that Vash was coming to recognize as a Wayfarer Guild Lodge.
“It’s pretty impressive,” Corwin said, taking in the village with some obvious pride. “Amical Falls and Samson’s Rest are really the only places that are really , y’know.”
Vash nodded, but kept his thoughts to himself. He had only been a Wayfarer for about a week and had some serious doubts that other members of the Guild would be as accepting as Corwin. In fact, without Jabez standing for him, Vash had a feeling that his chances of remaining a Wayfarer after the debacle of the ‘quest’ laid out by Duke Adolus were quite slim.
From the worried look on Corwin’s face, Vash would bet that he was having the same thoughts.
“So, the Masters here aren’t like the ones in Sathsholm.” Corwin said as they crossed the open village square. People of all sorts crossed in front of them. Vash had never seen so many adventurers in one place, not even in Traveler’s Row. “They’re some of the most experienced and skilled in the Guild. Most are on the short list for becoming a Grandmaster of their particular school. So, mind your manners.”
“Who, me?” Vash said, making a show of wounded pride. “I’m a delight, never caused a problem in my life.”
Corwin shot him a sour look. “That’s what I’m talking about. They’re going to have a lot of questions about what happened in Mossfen, and with Zakarias. Without Jabez to speak for us, both of us being Vagabonds, and you being a…well, being a…”
“Assassin sentenced to death by one of the most powerful men in Galadon?” Vash said, mildly.
“Yeah, that.” Corwin said.
“I’ll behave.”
“Thank you.”
They walked across the village square in silence. The Lodge building stood at the top of the square, in a place that was difficult to miss. The first thing that struck Vash about the Lodge was that it was a very old building. Unlike most of the other buildings that he could see, it was stone. The irregular blocks forming the Lodge’s walls, though pitted and darkened by age, still appeared solid. Great double-doors made of oak stood open as they approached the building.
Inside was like a bustling tavern. Adventurers of every stripe gathered around tables, looking over gear or laying out maps. Several large boards of jobs, quests, and other tasks stood behind a long wooden counter. Harried-looking clerks took notes, verified Guild Markers, and paid out rewards.
After the quiet front room of the Sathsholm Lodge, this one took Vash by surprise.
“Can I help you boys?” A middle-aged halfling woman asked from a table near the door.
“Corwin Walker and Vash Ballard to see the Lodgemaster. He told us to come see him as soon as Vash was able.” Corwin said in a deferential tone. It was the same tone he used when trying to get out of trouble with the town constable back in Durron’s Ford.
Vash wondered as the halfling woman nodded gravely and beckoned them to follow her.
The back halls of the Lodge were like the ones in Sathsholm: training rooms, archives, storage, and offices. The office that the halfling lead them to, however, was very different.
The room seemed to fill a double purpose. It was both the Lodgemaster’s office, and a kind of meeting hall. A long conference table stood in the middle of the room, in front of several long picture windows. The Lodge had a breathtaking view of the falls and the lands beyond. Rolling hills, thick with forests, lay between steep-sloped mountains. In the far distance, Vash thought he could make out the meandering path through the forests that was this section of the Glory Road.
Vash was so distracted by the view that it took him a few minutes to realize that they weren’t alone in the room. At the far end was a heavy desk and several high-backed chairs. Behind the desk sat a tall man with dark gray hair. He was broad shouldered and thick with the look of muscles that had gone unused for too long. The Lodgemaster looked up with a frown as they entered the room, his eyes moving from the figure in the chair to the newcomers.
“Corwin Walker and Vash Ballard, as requested by Master Sallik.” The halfling woman said.
Master Sallik nodded, the lines of his face deepening into a frown. “Thank you, Miss Fewroot. That will be all.”
The halfling woman gave a polite curtsy and bustled out of the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind her.
Sallik regarded Corwin and Vash for a long moment. “Corwin, how is Jabez doing?”
“Still unconscious, Master.” Corwin said, with a polite half-bow. “The clerics in the infirmary aren’t sure when or if he will waken.”
Heaving a sigh, Sallik glanced at his other visitor, discomfort plain on the older man’s face. “That’s…most unfortunate.”
Vash thought.
The figure in the other chair rose. Even from behind, Vash recognized the stocky build and thinning black hair. His colors had changed, though. No longer wearing the gray and green of the Duke, Jacen Glauch wore a crimson surcoat emblazoned with half-black and half-white star.
“Vash,” Glauch said with an unpleasant smile. “How delighted I am to see you again.”
