Hello, Everyone!
Last time, after having defeated Nurvureem, our heroes found their old pal Jared among all the caged people they'd freed, and tried to interrogate him about the money he'd stolen from the group. The man refused to speak and Aurum turned him into a slug in order to give him time to think things over. Then, the group went on a small exploration mission around the caverns the dragon had inhabited. They found a few nasty surprises and Mary ran back in the original cavern, unable to stomach it.
Mary was sitting down with her back to a stalagmite, clenching her stomach with trembling hands. The sight of the acid-covered bodies in Nurvureem's pit still flashed before her eyes. The others joined her shortly.
“... can’t do anything about that,” Bruno was just saying.
“Plus, we should get going,” Agatha said. “We can’t stay here longer than we have to.”
"What do we do with the sword, though?” Aurum said.
It was lying on the ground near Nurvureem's corpse. Its flame had gone out when she'd died, but it was still foreboding in its fifteen feet of length.
“We shouldn’t leave it here when we go out. If there were any cultists or shady individuals around, we shouldn’t let them steal it.”
“How would they, it weighs a ton!” Bruno said.
Nevertheless, they sent Dohos to fly up to Pamagos. He was going to tell Dynatos Perres about the fight, and ask him for people to come and pick up the sword.
"Or just send for Rabajorhax, if he's somewhere around,” Mary added.
"Don’t mention him here!“ Bruno shushed her. “Wasn’t he a secret or something?"
Mary gave the others an apologetic look.
"No, I understand.” Dohos nodded. “I know who you’re talking about. I’ll send for him if it’s at all possible."
While waiting for Dohos, Mary and the rest organized an quick resting station. Mary planted her orange Tree in one end of the cavern and started distributing oranges to the people. The wounded were bandaged, the nervous calmed down. Everyone sat around the magical tree, their backs towards the horrors they’d been through, and started sharing their stories. Some people, it seemed, were taken from their homes, forcefully extracted under their families' distraught screams. Others were snatched directly from the streets, while trying to get to safety in the back alleys. A tabaxi mother and her child, who spoke to Agatha, were on their way to a safe house when they were abducted.
In the serenity of the Tree, Aurum managed to somewhat heal Agatha’s hand. It had disolved almost to the bone in Nurvureem’s acid, but his bardic spells and the magic of the Mostrael bell managed to bring most of her flesh back.
“It would take more than that to make it heal completely but at least it's something,” he said.
It was about then when Jared came back from slug-dom. They let him out of the vial they’d put him in, and watched closely until he morphed back to his original form. He scrambled back, eyes widely widened and face as pale as a sheet.
Aurum held out an orange.
“Here. A gesture of good will. So, did you remember where our key is?”
“We buried it under the tree in front of our house!” Jared blurted out.
“Good. Good. We have to tie you up now.”
The man obediently held out his hands and they wound a rope around them.
“Anything we want to ask our friend now?” Aurum said. “He seems pretty chatty.”
“Yes,” Mary said, turning to Jared. “Do you know Granny Gretel?”
“Who?”
Maybe the hag had more than one name. Mary described her but Jared shook his head and said he didn’t know who she was talking about. He seemed quite confused. Mary frowned. Did she have to apologize to Granny Gretel now?
She didn’t want to think about that. She leaned closer to Jared and looked at his eyes.
“Why do you act like this with Nymphadora?” she asked.
The man frowned. “That’s none of your business,” he said.
“No, but you’re her brother! You should protect her. Keep her safe!”
“What do you know about us?” Jared snarled. “You’ve been around for--what--a month? Two? Stop sticking your nose in our family business!”
Mary recoiled like she’d been struck. Was she really in the wrong here? No. Nymphadora needed someone to protect her! Or did she? She was, after all, a grown woman, maybe Mary shouldn’t have been so overbearing.
Seeing how he had told her off without any repercussions, Jared regained part of his cocky behaviour. He sat up straighter and his eyes flashed with insolence.
“How did you get Mary’s manuscript?” Bruno said, leaning towards him.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on! You stole her notes to publish that book!”
“I got inspired by her notes!” Jared insisted. “Had my eyes on that story for a while when we were travelling together. And Mary kept on telling everybody about it, how could I not get curious?”
“And you decided to steal it?”
“It inspired me!”
“But how did you do it?” Mary said. “How did you get into Belfast, and in our room?”
“I just followed you. I’m pretty good at sneaking around,” Jared said with a slimy smile. “You know, you should be thanking me! That book made you famous!”
“Yeah, and kept us in Nurvureem’s eye,” Mary said bitterly.
“I dont know anything about that. All I know is that you owe me.”
Bruno smacked him on the back of the head.
“Hey,” Agatha said, casting a glance through the orange branches to the gathered crowd. “I think people are worried why we're treating your pal here this way. In their eyes he must be just another survivor, and you three are straight up bullying him.”
“He deserves it,” Bruno said.
“Yeah, sure. But who’s going to explain it to them?
“Why dont you do it?” Mary snapped at her.
“Oh-kaaay.” Agatha made a weird face and went out of the tree.
A few moments later she came back.
“They’re asking if we could be going now,” she said. “At least to the surface. Some of them have spent days down here, fearing for their lives.”
Mary stayed back, guarding the sword, while the others took the people out of the cavern, up the tunnel and across the illusory terrain ourside. Before they came back, she took a look at the giant blade. She could hardly believe that she’d survived being cut by that thing!
An inscription adorned the sword’s surface, written in some kind of an old form of Draconic. Mary used one of the spells in her Book to make herself able to read it.
[“In my breath t’was forged,
in my blood t’was hardened.
Imvaernarhro.”]
So, it was the sword of Imvaernarhro, just like she’d suspected. Why did Nurvureem have that ancient Red dragon’s sword?
When the others came back about half an hour later, they had company – about twenty people had come from Pamagos to take the sword out. Seeing the pit full of human parts, the commanding officer’s face darkened.
“We’ll take care of them,” he said. “They’ll be put in a common grave and honoured for their bravery.”
Mary and the others nodded.
“By the way, we found the tiefling woman up in the tunnel,” Aurum said. “Saved her from bleeding out. She’s up there with the others now.”
Before the four of them went out as well, they took care of Nurvureem’s remains. A dragon’s corpse could be a very valuable source of ingredients – magical ones, for potions and spell components, as well as material ones for armour or weapons. They were able to tear off what was left untouched by their weapons and spells – a fair amount of skin, some blood, teeth and talons, as well as one whole eye.
Putting all of that into Mary’s Bag, they were ready to go out into the world.
Yass! Loot the corpse! (Take his vest!)
Also, do we have a dragon's sword now? How do we use it?
See you next time to find out!
Take care and be well!
Episodes of Mary Windfiddle's story come out every Monday and Thursday.
(Also, here's a link to the Chapter Guide, the Glossaries (Part 1 and Part 2)
and the Map for the series. You're welcome!)
An important disclaimer: Mary Windfiddle's story is my notes from a D&D game turned into a narrative. All the worldbuilding and NPC encounters belong to our DM, and all the actions of the other main characters (Aurum, Bruno and Agatha) belong to my co-players. My contribution to the story is only everything Mary-related (actions, reactions, inner thoughts), as well as the writing itself.
