The Necromancer's Pact VIII: The Rising Tide

[Dr._Bob]

There was no time to think after the frost worm's explosion. Those still able to get to their feet waste no time triaging and stabilizing their comrades.

Several, such as Grynde, Tanner and Desmona, survived by being shielded by others. In Grynde's case his benefactor did not live to accept his thanks. Norgold, on the other hand, managed to shield at least two or even three others with his enlarged bulk. As he and his spiked chain shrink back to their normal size, the healing ministrations of the others already have begun to work.

That Retay survived, despite being at the epicenter of the blast of ice shards, is a testament to the power of barbarian rage, but even he requires intensive care as the adrenaline fades.

The bodies of those who did not survive are collected and placed within part of the shelter. This grisly necessity prevents their bodies from being picked apart by the waiting carrion crows, who screech in disappointment. The birds continue circling overhead for most of the night, visible against the moonlit sky.

A single horse makes its way back to the camp after the worm attack, its hooves sinking deeply into the snow. The horse's miraculous survival of, not one but two disasters, is astonishing. The anomaly is difficult to explain, but Faluil has no complaints, whispering into the horse's ear in elven.

...

Dramatically reduced, the remaining survivors cluster together at one end of the makeshift shelter to wait for sunrise. The fire is re-lit at the entrance. Warmth being deemed more necessary than stealth at this moment.

When Faluil mentions his home, there are several lowered gazes and cleared throats. In the earlier conversations, it appears that the elf had not heard of Myth Drannor's fate. The elf remains stoic, but is clearly shaken to hear that the impossible has happened - Myth Drannor has fallen.

...

One-by-one, exhaustion overtakes each of you. The healing magic acts as an additional soporific, and soon only a couple of pairs of eyes remain open at a time, and even the scattered whispered conversations cease.

...

There are fourteen survivors now:

Tiriel - tall, blond, and now that you get a closer look at her, quite beautiful in an ethereal way. Her flaming sword is sheathed at her hip.

Katrin - Tiriel's friend with dark-short hair, green eyes, and scar across one cheek. Her crossbow lies cocked and loaded in her lap.

Lissa and Achkby - the gnome (Lissa) and halfling (Achkby) snuggle back to back, apparently more comfortable with their own company than with the tall-folk. The two of them emerged safely from their hiding place after the frost worm battle. Lissa's wand proved to be quite helpful in stabilizing the wounded. Both of the child-sized survivors seem to have little to say.

Adalmar - a ranger from Ashanath, just on the other side of Lake Ashane from Rashemen. He tends the fire, saying little. Perhaps his thoughts are about his village, deserted - the whereabouts of his family and friends, unknown.

Retay - the tall (6 1/2 feet), black haired, and fur-clad barbarian who miraculously managed to slay the frost worm and live to tell the tale.

Norgold - the heavyset fighter, now back to "normal size". He sleeps sitting upright, his spiked chain draped over his neck and shoulders.

Desmona - from Cormyr. She wears her brown hair in a high ponytail. Her modest tunic, breeches, and breastplate can not completely disguise her shapely figure. She also carries a chain whip, but whereas Norgold swings the weapon with power and strength, Desmona wields the weapon with speed, grace, and finesse. When she engaged the frost worm with her whip, the ends of her weapon were practically invisible as they whirled about her body in an impossibly intricate pattern.

Damian - clad all in black. He has gray eyes and jet-black hair. His daggers are sheathed and hidden away. He sits with his arms folded across his chest, a thoughtful look on his face.

Grynde - the half-elf ranger. He seems more subdued following the battle, keeping his anti-human comments to himself among this mixed company. He inspects his pair of matched shortswords carefully before resheathing them.

Faluil - a moon, or perhaps wood, elf. His bow sits propped up against the rock wall behind him as he meditates. His horse (the only one in the party) snorts softly as it stomps in the snow outside the shelter.

Olfacht - apparently some type of magic user. He closes his piercing blue eyes, letting his thinning hair fall into his face. His nostrils flare periodically as the smoke from the fire occasionally drifts into the shelter.

Tanner - bearded, armored and cloaked. This flying warrior keeps his cloak wrapped tightly about him. He stares quietly at the palm of his hand while a small flame flickers there.

and

Tryntha - the only native Rashemi among the group. This gentle healer has blue eyes and red hair, braided in the traditional manner.

...

Before she sleeps, Tryntha uses some melted snow to perform a small ritual over each of the nine corpses. It would be impossible to bury them properly in the snow, and digging into the frozen ground is not an option, but perhaps a blessing of some kind would allow their spirits to know that their passing has not gone unrecognized ...

She only knew the names of three of the dead - Nadshi, the monk who helped to dig out Norgold, is one. Ulmarek, the ranger who had proposed building a shelter out of the snow itself, is another. And then of course there is Khazrael ...

She looks down sadly at Khazrael, now bare to the waist. She notes his delicate, feminine yet angular, features. Gently she brushes a hand across his hair, smoothing down his feathers, which she realizes are not merely decorations like his bangles and piercings as she had first assumed. She frowns. Something about the shape of his torso and his proportions seem off somehow, beyond the penetrating wounds he suffered.

She gasps softly as a thought comes to her. Was Khazrael even human? She leans down to look more closely at his almost bird-like features ...

Khazrael opens his eyes and looks directly back at her. Tryntha screams and scrambles backwards. Khazrael bends at the waist and sits straight up. "What happened?" he asks ...