Banshee Bargain

The sun had reached its zenith, signalling midday. It was a warm summer day in the Neverwinter woods and the forest itself seemed to exhale as it basked in the requiem of the summer's quiet symphony. Unlike days past, and the days to come, there was no tension in the air. For some time the Neverwinter woods had been pulled tight like a lute string, trembling in anticipation for whatever foul machinations would engulf the trees into turmoil. But not today - today it was a quiet day - a sober day - a relaxing day where the woes and troubles in these uncertain times relented and the will of nature was allowed to just: be. 

From above, the winding length of the Triboar Trail carved its way through the trees; a large brown serpent coiling and slithering around the massive leafed behemoths. At some parts, there were grassy hills lining the path, where at one point in time the endless caravans and foot traffic had caused the wild woods to retreat from the path. As the Triboar Trail became less traveled, the forest began it's creeping annexation of it's once thriving land and the trail became narrower as a result. It wasn't as if the forest choked on the trail but rather learned to coexist; where a large gnarled root carved it's way in the trail moved to avoid it. And where a particular thicket of shrubs were dense to either side of the trail, they had retreated, almost knowingly, across the path to allow even small wagons to pass with ease.

The Triboar Trail was old and over its long life it had borne many travelers. Today, like many days in days past, it was quiet on the trail. A merchant caravan was trundling back from Phandalin to Neverwinter; a traveling tinker was making camp along the side of the trail to peddle his wares to passerbys gambling on the chance of foot traffic. The Caravan would arrive at Neverwinter late, a rut in the trail costing him precious hours by damaging his wagon wheel. The Tinker would be greatly disappointed, for the only others on the Triboar Trail today were not interested in his wares. No these travelers had a different agenda. They parted from the well worn trail and worked north, deeper into the Sword Mountains.

A hulking Loxodon waded forward, his trunk reaching up unconsciously to bask in the sun's warmth. He closed his eyes and exhaled, sounding like a sudden gust of wind as he savored the beauty of his day. He was wearing armor, the massive sheets of metal gleaming in the sun as if they had been freshly oiled and polished by the armorer himself. Slung over his shoulder was a massive warhammer, it's head resting in a groove in the shield which was strapped to his back. Behind him a smaller Tabaxi struggled to keep up. His hood was down and he scuttled along, trying to make the movement seem casual but it was clearly beginning to wear on him. He strode at the precipice of a light jog but what seemed like pride stopped him from jogging next to the slowly lumbering Loxodon. 

Meraki opened his eyes and looked down to his companion. 

"I'll say it one more time," he said. "It'll be easier if I carry you."

"For you maybe," Nipper grunted.

"It's not meant as an insult," Meraki added genuinely. 

"I am fine," Nipper replied through gritted teeth. Meraki let out another cascading sigh and continued to trod on. They slowed as they began to climb a hill and Nipper took the opportunity to scramble ahead of Meraki to reach the top first. He sighed and put his hands on his hips, studying their surroundings. To their south there was the Triboar Trail, the long dirt road curving off into the distance. It had taken the better part of two days to make the trip to Conyberry, the trail was an easy trek but it's sheer size and scale made the journey arduous enough. Nipper pulled out the small golden comb and thumbed the teeth of it casually. He could see off to the south where the trail cut right into what appeared to be a ruined town. 

"Conyberry," Nipper said as he studied the town.

"Looks abandoned," Meraki said.

"It is. Barbarians sacked it years ago. Killed most of the villagers," Nipper replied, eyes still staring at the town. 

"You going to tell me why we're even going here?" Meraki asked.

"I told you. I have business in the area," Nipper replied with a shrug.
"Business...in a ruined town?"

"Not there exactly," Nipper said and he turned to study his surroundings. Slightly north west of the ruins and due east for them there was appeared to be another small set of ruins set in to the woods. 

"There," he said and pointed at the pile of rocks and timber.

"Even better," Meraki said, staring at Nipper with increasing curiosity. It hadn't been easy to convince the Loxodon to come. He had been planning on spending some time working on his armor, the battle gear had been quite damaged in the battle against Xolkug and his orcs. Nipper had been planning on going himself but their recent adventures in the town had proven to convince him otherwise. The Sword Mountains were becoming an increasingly dangerous place. He hadn't had a clue what to expect in this mission for the Harpers but he knew that whatever he was going after was enough to almost beat Sister Garaele to death. He supposed it was Agatha, the Hag he was sent to pry information out of but the Sister hadn't been quite open with the information so he was left guessing. Meraki originally refused, demanding to know the reason for their travels but reluctantly settled on coming after he realized Nipper was going, with or without a traveling companion. In an effort to not have the Tabaxi traveling alone for whatever nefarious reason, he chose to come along, lamenting the entire way about how he hated the surreptitious nature of their trip. 

Nipper pressed on quickening his pace towards the treeline. His ears twitched as he tried to heighten his senses as they move into the trees towards the northern ruins. There is some kind of trail between the trees, whether it is a game path or an actual trail Nipper had no clue. Aethulian was always more aware of those sort of things. Whether or not he shared the information was another thing but he did usually have the intelligence to 'read the earth' as some of the most poetic rangers and huntsmen would say to him. The forest grows dark and still as the trail winds deeper into the trees. Heavy vines and thick layers of moss drape the branches, and the air is noticeably colder than it was along the Triboar trail. Rounding a bend in the trail, Nipper and Meraki slow as they see a screen made from warped branches of trees standing close together. They are woven into a domeline shelter in the shadows. The gnarled roots and trees are pulled back at one place to reveal a doorway inside. Meraki reaches back over his shoulder to heft his warhammer. Nipper waves him down with a hiss.

"No, no. You'll upset her."

"Who?" Meraki whispers. Nipper ignores him and cautiously presses on through the shadowy door. Within, a home of sorts is sheltered within the dome of woven branches. It is sparesely furnished with chest, shelves, a table, and a reclined coach. All of it appears to be quite old. Meraki approaches one of the pieces and runs a padded hand over the fine engravings.

"It's of elven make...and it's very old," he says. 

Suddenly the air grows cold as if the entire dome was just plunged into ice water. A cold, pale light flickers the air before you and there is a sudden rush of wind. Meraki un-slings his shield and readies his warhammer, ignoring Nipper's attempts for him to stand down. 

"Get behind me!" Meraki bellows over the torrent of wind. Realizing his efforts to calm the Loxodon are futile, Nipper is crouched close to the ground, trying to make sure the windstorm doesn't blow him over. He moves over close to Meraki and secures a hand hold off one of the tails of the leather straps from part of the Loxodon's greaves. He shelters himself against the storm, cursing the situation and his mind racing through possible options. The light flickers again and rapidly begins to take form of a female elf, her hair and robes waving the spectral winds, completely ignornant of the winds buffeting them right now. She might have been beautiful once, but a hateful expression twists and contorts her features now.

"Foolish mortals," she snarls. Her voice reverberating as if spoken on multiples planes. It seems to echo on itself with a throbbing heartbeat of spectral power. 

"What do you want here? Do you not know it is death to seek me out?" 

"Back creature! I am Meraki, the Fist of Heaven and I am Boros. I promise both the protection of the innocent and the destruction of the wicked are in my grasp. Be gone or face the wrath of a Soldier of the Red Angel!" he says and brandishes his warhammer at her. The Hags' eyes light with a sudden wicked rage and she lets out a deep cackle. The dome darkens even more as the glowing woman seems to drink in the few remaining vestiges of light. 

Suddenly, a golden comb pop clutched in a small furry paw pops out from behind Meraki's head. Nipper wiggles the comb, the dull gold glittering in what little light remains. The Hag's rage subsides slightly and she pauses, intrigued by the golden bauble. Nipper's head pokes up a moment later, trying to make the gesture look casual and he leaned on Meraki's head and smiles.

"What are you doing?" gasps Meraki.

"Shut up," Nipper says as he rams a small boot into the Loxodon's spine. He looks back to the Hag and smiles again, this time with all the grandiose charm he can muster.

"Truly beauty such as your does not fade even with the cold hands of death so close to you," he said. The Hag doesn't reply but Nipper catches a small flicker of a smile tugging at her lips.

"Perfect," he thinks to himself. 

"You are Agatha I presume - the wild beauty of these forests I have heard so much about?" He asks. Agatha smiles, more clearly now, and glides soundlessly towards them.

"I have been called many things little creature. Beautiful is not one of them," she says as she holds up a translucent arm. She is a waifish thing and Nipper sees the silhouettes of bones and rotting flesh maring the skin.

"Bah, I have seen many women in my time and I can assure you. Your beauty surpasses them all," he says. "My friend agrees with me of course - he was just startled by your rather extravagant arrival. Right my old friend?' Nipper says and casually reaches down to poke a sharp claw into Meraki's head.

"Ow...oh...yes of course. You are...in fact...quite...err...well...great. Yes you are good," Meraki rumbles. Nipper sighs. 

"Did you come all this way to compliment me little creature?" she cooed. 

"My lady, I fear I doubted the tales of your beauty and had to see it with my own eyes. I also carried with me a small favor," he said and held out the golden comb. "And would hope that it demonstrates my gratitude at even the chance of looking upon you," he added. Nipper's heart was pounded as he serenaded the ethereal being and he could feel Meraki tense after ever ballad, waiting for the hag to become enraged and attack. Agatha purred slightly and hovered closer, plucking the comb out of Nippers outstretched hand and cradling it in her own.

"I used to own pretty things like this," she said wistfully. "That was quite some time ago." Her spectral image began to flicker and grow more translucent and Agatha let out a long sigh. She turned to Nipper and smiles with a cold amusement.

"I like you creature. Perhaps I should kill you and then keep you with me forever," she said. Nipper winced and Meraki hefted his warhammer.

"Calm you pet," she scoffed to Nipper. "I know truly that you did not just come to compliment me. I may be vain but age had granted me wisdom as well. You're connected to that other woman? Are you not? I can feel her touch on you," she said with a sneer.

"The Sister? We are recent acquaintances - although her company is not as enjoyable as yours," Nipper added with a wink. Agatha let out another deep chorus of laughter. 

"Ask me your question little one - only one though. I will give you an answer."

"Bowgentle the Kind," Nipper said. 

"Ahhh," she said. "You seek the old spellcaster's spellbook? For what purpose?" she asked.

"It is not for my use but for my benefactors. They have a certain interest in it's contents," he added. Agatha smiled.

"Unfortunately little creature, I can't help you. I traded the spellbook to a Necromancer named Tsernoth from the city of Iriaebor more than a hundred years ago. I don't know what became of the book after that," she said. Nipper's heart sank. He was hoping for more for the Harpers but this would have to do. He bowed his head in thanks.

"Thank you my lady. I do appreciate your candour," he said. Agatha nodded back and then moved to hover at eye-level with Meraki. She frowned at him and held out her ghostly hand, stopping just short of his face.

"You are not from this land...or rather this plane," she said.

"I am born of Faerûn to the Boros Remnant," Meraki said and stepped back to step out of her reach. "You don't know me." 

"I know more of yourself than you do, child of Ravnica," she replied and held out her hand once more. Meraki gasped as a handprint on his chest began to glow, the light shining through his plate armor as if he wasn't even wearing it. 

"Gideon's touch," she hissed, eyes staring at him hungrily.

"What is this sorcery?" Meraki said, staggering backwards slightly. Agatha didn't reply but instead let out another one of her deep laughs. 

"Beware, Child of Ravnica - you weren't the only one to be sent back..." she said and erupted into another burst of mirthful macabre laughter. Her image began to fade and the laughter grew quieter. Meraki hefted his warhammer again as if to challenge the hag but she had faded away. 

The sound of the forest slowly crept back in through the woven dome of branches and trees and the light began to pour back in. It was as if a shroud had been lifted from the dome. Meraki and Nipper stood there in silence for a moment, stealing furtive glances at one another. 

"So...want to tell me what's going on?" Nipper said to Meraki and pointed to his chest where a moment before a handprint was glowing.

"You first," Meraki grunted.

"Fair enough, we keep our secrets," he said and then pointed to the door of the dome.

"Shall we?" he said. The two of them walked out of the dome and back out into the forest in silence. Although both travelers were now pensively mulling over their experiences, there was a budding kinship between them now - bound in the mystery of secrets and forbidden knowledge. As they walked on, Nipper tugged at Meraki's greaves' strap and Meraki hunched over as he walked to allow the Tabaxi to scamper up his shoulder and sit down on the Loxodon's hulking shoulder. The continued across the hills and back towards the trail. In the distance, a storm was brewing over the forest. The clouds growing darker and the haze of rain building up in the thick clouds.