Arandor
Auto-translated
IceWind Dale 2. (Arandor & Loken)
So, Loken and I have finally started a Walkthrough of the second part of IceWind Dale, and I am ready to present it to you. This time, the plot will be laid out as a story by chapters, while everything else (side quests and miscellaneous things) will be in the comments for the screenshots.
Loken's Tale
"Prologue"
The sound of vomit erupting from someone's esophagus reached Derien L'elore's ears, and he shuddered. Glancing toward the stern, he noticed a green-faced Wizard struggling terribly with seasickness.
The bard turned away and gazed at the ocean. He had doubts about the upcoming journey. Back then, all these prospects seemed so bright and exciting. And why not—a war is raging in the north. Heroes are overcoming the onslaught of dark forces, people are fighting desperately for their lives—excellent material for new ballads. In recent years, he had been hit by a creative crisis, and the lines wouldn't come. He always strove to write a special song, the work of his lifetime. But somehow it didn't happen. There were plenty of ideas and rhymes, but the tale wouldn't flow; he couldn't even begin, same as always, he couldn't approach it. Perhaps he had spent too long in idle wanderings through villages and towns. It was time for a shake-up and new sensations.
They had set out from Waterdeep—Derien and Alanin, his loyal companion. Alanin was Derien's childhood friend; they grew up together and traveled together, earning a living through acting. Without a second's hesitation, he supported the idea of heading to Icewind Dale. The decision was spontaneous. They rode and they planned.
***
On the third day, the friends reached some small village where they decided to stop to replenish supplies and let the horses rest.
- It's a bit deserted here, isn't it? - he remarked to the stable boy, tossing him a coin.
- Everyone is at the sermon. Today is Salvation Day.
- Salvation?
- Yes, salvation of the soul. Everyone gathered in the chapel. And I have to stick around here, - the boy sighed.
Religion. Not the most interesting subject. However, the chapel lacked any conventional attributes, and the bard became curious about which god they prayed to there.
- Shall we take a look? - he suggested to his friend.
- Sure, let's.
They left the horses and headed toward the small chapel on the edge of the village. A large log house. Built quite recently. Carefully opening the door, they slipped inside. About fifty people had gathered inside, all listening to the voice of the preacher. The preacher was dressed in white robes, which, however, had lost their dazzling whiteness over time, turning gray in some places and patched in others. His shoulder-length black hair was tied with a cord, and he wore a small beard.
- And let the sacred thunder roll, the infidels shall fall, and the world shall plunge into darkness! - he exclaimed, raising his hands. - And let the miser and the wicked, the ignorant and the faithless be punished, while those who seek the truth shall find eternal bliss and eternal life!
The crowd listened with reverence, holding their breath.
- And may the minds and souls of the suffering find the truth, and may they be rewarded for their patience and aspirations! - the preacher fell silent, lowering his gaze and dropping his hands. - Now, my children, the salvation of your soul. Yes, yes, yours specifically! Yours and yours, and yours too! And yours! One coin for salvation. Renounce the material, - he signaled to a boy assistant, who walked along the rows with a bowl, collecting offerings. - So that you may behold the truth, undistorted by earthly passions...
- Unheard of! - a powerful roar erupted from the back rows. A man in tarnished plate armor and with a stern face rose from the bench. - A priest shall never collect money from the flock! All donations are strictly voluntary!
The holy father froze for a moment and asked softly:
- You aren't from around here, are you?
- Oh yes, I am a noble paladin of the Order of the Silver Shield and I am traveling on a mission from my master!
- Then you must understand that our customs...
- My mission consists of searching for, neutralizing, and bringing to justice notorious villains operating in this area! Now I shall confirm my suspicions, - he pulled a parchment scroll from his tunic and began to read. - Crooked Edgar... Horus the Fallen... Murray the Miser... Aha! Alpharius, nicknamed Slippery. Medium height, shoulder-length black hair, gold tooth, scar on the neck, shameless criminal eyes. Accused of fraud, forging heraldic documents, blackmail, petty and medium thefts, looting, tax evasion. Sentence—life imprisonment in hard labor.
The paladin showed the people a crude drawing in which the preacher's features were barely and very conventionally recognizable. The people began to murmur and stir, and the paladin walked from the back rows to the altar and proclaimed, raising a finger:
- Ignorance of the law is no excuse for responsibility! Due to the harboring of a dangerous criminal, I am also forced to impose a fee of five hundred coins on all residents of this village!
Loud cries erupted from all sides, people waved their fists; Derien and Alanin looked at each other and began to carefully push their way toward the exit.
- Brothers and sisters! - the holy father exclaimed, - Do not believe a single word of the foreigner, for I am ready to show you a Miracle of our faith to wash away the stain from my honest name, defiled by him!
- Hang him! - a cry came from the crowd.
The preacher made a gesture with his hands and loudly spoke some words, after which a dazzling flash flooded the hall. Panicking people, seeing nothing, pushed and screamed, while Derien, subconsciously ready for something like this and blinking himself clear in a couple of seconds, pulled his friend out of the chapel into the open air.
- It looks like they're ready to tear apart anyone who gets in their way. I'm afraid we can't stay here any longer—let's get out!
They reached the stables, untied the horses and, brushing off the bewildered stable boy, galloped at full speed away from the village.
***
Evening was falling, all water and food supplies were gone; the friends trudged through some wilderness and prepared for the worst. They were already ready to spend the night on the roadside under the open sky when a stone fence appeared from behind the trees. It was a small monastery. The abbot—a pale brunette in black robes—received them warmly, fed them, and provided cells for the night.
- You aren't the only ones who stop here while traveling these roads, - he smiled. - Many are going somewhere in these unsettled days.
- We are heading north, to the Dale, - Derien revealed. - They say it is currently a true paradise for people seeking opportunity.
It turned out that news of the horde threatening the Ten-Towns had not yet reached the abbot.
- Yes, - the bard continued. - Some have despaired. The horde—it doesn't take prisoners. People are fighting with all their might. Heroes are born and die. Alanin and I intend to carve out some glory for ourselves, but that's not the main thing. The main thing is rich material for sagas! Though... it's all theory. I don't know how the situation will turn out there... But how do you live here? Surely this... hm... inclines one toward reflection and peace—living in constant tranquility far from people?
- Your thought is clear to me, - the host spoke. - Indeed, here we are safe from all worldly passions. In narrow circles, our monastery is known for housing the most disciplined monks on the Coast from Amn to Neverwinter. Life here has long been frozen. To tell the truth... sometimes I miss those days when I was an adventurer. Yes, yes, don't look at me like that, it's true. We also traveled through the north. Six of us. Yes, those days... I was still just a youth then. But later we somehow drifted apart, each their own way. And I simply grew tired of everything and settled here. I liked the quiet life without worries and passions; I immersed myself in it completely. And over time, I obtained the position of abbot... However, for you, this is surely a boring story.
- No, not at all! You know, when we return, I will mention you in my ballad, - Derien promised.
The monk chuckled and waved his hand.
In the morning, the bard went into the garden to breathe the freshest morning air. Stretching sweetly, he enjoyed a walk and admired nature. Muttering to himself, he was pleasantly surprised to feel that good rhymes were practically begging to be spoken. Truly—a change of scenery is stimulating. In a wonderful mood, he went to the dining hall, where the monks had already finished their ascetic breakfast, and sat down with Alanin and Abbot Kai, who were talking in low voices.
- Good morning, - the monk greeted them. - I hope you slept as well as your companion did.
- Slept wonderfully. It's so quiet here and the forest air is so pleasant; it feels like ten years have been lifted off my shoulders.
- Do you feel all eleven? - Alanin inquired.
- Shut up.
Kai sighed and announced in a tomb-like tone:
- Gentlemen, I could not sleep this night. Our conversation awakened memories of that life within me. I have lived in the monastery for twenty years, and I knew that I could not remain here until the end of my days. I feel that I must set out on a journey. I know that through it, I shall finally find peace and serenity. Allow me to accompany you on this dangerous venture.
- But... - Alanin was taken aback. - You are the abbot of this monastery, you have duties, and...
- Oh, that is not a problem. I will pass my position to another brother. After all, everything here is done on a voluntary basis. Do not worry, I will not be a burden. I will take all my simple belongings with me. And I claim neither glory nor a share of the riches you may find on your journey. - he added with a smile.
Derien liked the monk, and the last argument only aided his decision:
- It's a deal! You don't mind, friend? - he addressed Alanin.
- Of course not. Three is more cheerful than two.
The companions shook hands and parted to prepare for departure.
***
There were no solemn farewells, joy or sadness regarding the old abbot's departure. Only a couple of monks came out to see them off. Kai's things fit into one pitiful knapsack tied to the saddle of the monastery horse.
- And why do we need a fourth mount? - Derien pointed to the black horse loaded with a couple of small bags, which was led out the gates with them.
- This is not for us, - the monk answered mysteriously.
A man stepped out of the gate, nearly tripping over the threshold.
- A familiar face! - Alanin was surprised. - And you are here, holy father?
Alpharius grimaced and glanced at them.
- And what—does that surprise you? What else was left for me to do but move from there toward Neverwinter? By the only road passing through this lovely monastery with its hospitable hosts?
- The gentleman arrived shortly before you, - Kai explained. - And also stayed for the night. I didn't know you were acquainted, otherwise I would have introduced you.
- Well, not exactly acquainted... - all four spurred their horses and slowly rode out onto the road. - To Neverwinter? We are also heading north. We can travel together for a while. And what happened in the chapel?
- That which had to happen sooner or later, and for which I was prepared, - Alpharius grumbled. - I summoned light and blinded everyone. Then I grabbed the offering bowl and was gone. Paladins... They are not of this world. Always interfering in things they have no idea about.
- He accused you of many things, holy father.
- I am no priest, as you can see. I am a wizard, - he said proudly. - I received an education at the best academy in Amn. My brother and I studied there together.
- I thought wizards teleported, lived in towers, and wore pointed hats and staffs studded with jewels...
- Stereotype.
- I've never heard of wizards robbing some country folk in god-forsaken villages.
- And I haven't happened to hear that those who talk so much live to old age, - the Wizard snapped back.
***
They reached Neverwinter. Along the way, the people got to know each other quite well, told various tales and made plans. The Wizard intended to start a business in Neverwinter; he had some connections. Judging by his stories, most of the sins were invented by slandering competitors and crooked guards, and as for the paladin order hunting him, they were generally prone to exaggeration. Kai held up well—he maintained pleasant conversations, revealed certain spiritual theses he had grasped during reflection and contemplation, never complained about anything, and argued with no one. It seemed as if nothing bothered him at all. He enjoyed every second of the long journey. Derien strummed his lute; in the evenings by the campfire, he used a stick to write rhymes on the ground. Alanin looked tired. Something troubled him, as if he expected something terrible at any moment.
The premonitions did not deceive. In Neverwinter, he heard that there was trouble in their home village. The local blacksmith, Alanin's father, had fallen ill with some disease. He was already old. Derien didn't even try to hold his friend back; he understood everything. The day after arriving in the city, they parted ways.
As it turned out, not everything worked out for the sorcerer either. That same evening, the city guard burst into the tavern; a sergeant recognized him by description, pointed at him and a couple of other bandits with his finger, and a brawl broke out. Alpharius barely escaped with his life. His projects collapsed; he had no choice but to continue the journey to Luskan together with his newfound acquaintances.
- I've heard that traveling this road is very dangerous, - Alpharius shivered. - You never know who you might meet. In the best case, bandits, and in the worst...
- Well, you're a wizard. You'll be able to protect us, I'm sure! - Derien shrugged carelessly.
The Wizard grew gloomy and continued the journey in silence.
Evening was falling, visibility was worsening; they were riding along some path in the middle of the forest. It was time to look for a place to spend the night. The bard was about to make a suggestion when a wolf's howl sounded from nearby. Several others echoed it from different directions.
- This is bad, - the bard stammered with dead lips. - Very bad.
- I suggest we speed up, - advised Kai, who seemed completely untouched by the sense of danger. The same stone face as most of the time.
They shifted to a light canter. A vicious snarl was heard very close. They put the horses into a gallop in the twilight, pushing through bushes and trees. The bard looked back for a second and noticed huge, ferocious wargs not falling behind them by a single step. The chase did not last long. Very soon they reached a small clearing only to see that they were surrounded. Half a dozen wargs, snarling, growled and dug the ground with their paws. The largest one prepared to spring.
"Surely the leader" - flashed through Derien's mind.
- I have no weapon, - the sorcerer said in a defeated voice.
- Then use magic! You're a mage! Look—they're about to tear us apart.
Alpharius opened his mouth to answer when suddenly a battle cry rang out from behind the trees, and something huge and glittering slammed into the leader, knocking him off his feet and pinning him against a tree. A hulking man in armor with a war hammer crushed the beast's skull with one blow. The remaining wolves howled deafeningly and bolted away from him like they were fleeing fire, into the darkness.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and completely bald. His eyes sparkled. Turning fiercely toward them, he himself bared his teeth and growled:
- Who are you? Report!
- J-just travelers, heading to Luskan! We were late on the road and couldn't find a place for the night. You saved our lives, thank you! - the bard spoke.
- Saved? Who misinformed you so? - the warrior growled and laughed wickedly, looking at their pale faces. - Alright, jokes aside. The area is full of dangerous creatures. These wargs are the best thing you could have encountered.
- I thought "best" meant... - the Wizard began.
- Silence! And listen to me if you want to stay alive. Now you come with me; I have a hut nearby. And in the morning, we all set off for Luskan. Questions?
- I do, - Derien raised his hand. - Why do you want to go to Luskan with us?
- Not me with you, but you with me. Because I need to get to Icewind Dale, and ships sail there from Luskan.
- Well, we need to go there too! We are heading north to find adventure, glory, and wealth. And material for a ballad. My name is Derien L'elore, I am a bard well-known in the south.
- I don't give a damn what your name is. I am going to war. Now come on, before the enemy brings reinforcements.
He grabbed the carcass of the wolf leader by the scruff and dragged it along the ground. The travelers followed him. After a few minutes, they reached a terrifying abode in the thicket of the forest. A house built from roughly processed boards and surrounded by a palisade sat on a small glade. The palisade was covered with severed heads impaled on logs. There were wolves, bears, some incomprehensible creatures. Human and even orc heads appeared. After stabling the horses, the warrior sent the travelers into the house, where they had to make do with a modest dinner. Despite his fatigue, Derien did not close his eyes.
In the morning, they left this ghastly place with relief and returned to the main road.
- I bought this beauty a week ago specifically for the upcoming journey, - he patted his horse on the shoulder in response to a question.
- And where are your armor, weapons, and other things?
- Hanging on the wall in the hut. I swore never again to participate in battles with that gear to honor the memory of my loss in the previous war with Amn. So since then, they have known only the blood of forest scum. Moreover—it makes no sense to travel in full attire and overwork the horses if you can get new equipment once you arrive.
Derien did not agree with this but preferred not to argue. The warrior's name was Erkenbert, and surprisingly, he was a priest, though he didn't say of which god. He was around fifty, had participated in two wars, and was an archdeacon. News of the unrest in the north attracted many thugs, mercenaries, and fortune seekers; Erkenbert also answered the call. Unlike most, he did not seek honors or loot for himself. Derien still hadn't managed to understand his motivation. One thing he knew for sure—a healer would never hurt them, especially one that wargs are afraid of to death.
***
Finally, the group arrived in Luskan. They stayed in an inexpensive inn full of suspicious characters. Most of them were mercenaries. Kai immersed himself in meditation in his tiny room, distancing himself from the loud shouts and noise; the deacon headed for the docks, while Derien and Alpharius decided to clear their heads and entered the nearest tavern.
- If there is anything worthwhile in this city—it's the cheap beer, - the Wizard noted, sipping his drink.
- I've never been to Luskan, - the bard said thoughtfully. - I thought it was complete anarchy here, blood flowing in rivers through the streets, and pirates slashing each other.
- And I have been to this city twice. The first time I expected roughly the same, and most unpleasant of all, I got it.
- Actually, that doesn't happen often, - the bartender intervened in their conversation. - Most of the time it's quite tolerable here. Of course, not up to the luxury and dignity of southern cities, but people live and don't complain.
- I'll step away for a moment, - the sorcerer muttered, stood up and walked into the corridor past the bar counter.
Derien became embarrassed.
- Well, I didn't mean that people are beasts and thugs are everywhere... Just... This is a den of pirates and raiders. In the sense not a den, but a center... - the bard stumbled.
- Come on, son, I know what southerners think of us. They think we're like barbarians of the north, or even worse. And most don't care. Sometimes there are outbursts from captains, but the mages in their towers quickly handle it. I'll tell you this... - the bartender's gaze slid to the entrance door and hardened. - Hey you! Do I have to throw you into the mud again? What did I tell you about visiting my establishment? Get out of here!
The bard turned around and saw a swaying man in a black, worn-out robe at the entrance. He had blond hair, three-day stubble, and cloudy eyes. Just another pub regular, Derien thought. The man, ignoring the innkeeper's shouts, headed straight for him with a smile.
- Hello, Grumpos! Pour me some of your famous ale! - he addressed him cheerfully.
- Get lost, - the bartender repeated gloomily. - You have no money anyway.
- Ha! I have no money? Me? - the visitor's wandering gaze stopped on Derien. - Look, kid, he thinks I have no money! Ha! Ha! Today I have everything, pour it, don't stall!
Grumpos looked at the client distrustfully and sighed.
- Why did you choose my tavern specifically?.. - he muttered under his breath, filling a mug of ale from the barrel.
- Because yours is all the... uh... best... To your health! - the visitor tossed a coin and sipped the drink. - And you, son, what's your name?
- I am not your son; I am Derien L'elore, a bard. And you smell of alcohol.
- Of course, because I've been drinking! My name is Garius, - he nearly knocked the ale onto the floor.
- Very interesting. Thank you, - Derien grimaced and turned away.
- You know, Mr. Bard, I also found a own inclination toward music, - the annoying visitor stood up and tried to move closer to Derien.
Passing by the table, he tripped, and the contents of the mug splashed onto a seated half-orc. The latter snorted angrily, rose, and punched the nearest visitor in the jaw. The visitor took a chair and smashed it over the offender's head. A fight broke out. Bodies and splinters flew through the tavern; everyone fought everyone. Alpharius reappeared in the hall and nearly got hit in the head with a bottle.
- What the hell!
- To the street! - the bard shouted to him.
Avoiding a beating, they managed to leave the inhospitable tavern; the drunkard who had provoked the brawl followed them. He sniffed disappointedly:
- Grumpos will never let me in there now.
- You should have watched where you were going, - Derien snapped. - Let's go back to the inn.
But the Wizard did not move. He was scrutinizing the face of their new acquaintance.
- Have we met? - he asked distrustfully.
- I don't know... Maybe we met, maybe not, how should I know, I live here in the city... - the vagabond's cloudy gaze could not focus on anything.
Alpharius cast a spell—light flashed for a moment on his fingertip and immediately went out. Muttering curses, he pulled the man closer to a lantern.
- Ah, so that's it! I wasn't mistaken! Garius, you old scoundrel, it is you.
The scoundrel's gaze turned to the Wizard's face and cleared.
- Alphi? Is it really you?
- Me! - the sorcerer patted his acquaintance on the shoulder. - Long time no see, brother!
- Indeed... I haven't seen you since you left the... academy...
- I haven't seen you just as long, - he addressed the bard. - This is my own brother! We studied together at the academy in Amn.
- Yes, yes, I remember. Your brother is not in the best condition.
- Indeed... Hey, old dog, we arrived here today and rented a couple of rooms in an inn nearby. We are going to Icewind Dale. Come with us; we need to discuss a lot!
- Well, let's go, - Garius answered and collapsed onto the cobblestones.
- Wow... He's completely gone, - Derien noted.
- Excellent observation, - the Wizard snapped back.
They hoisted the body onto their shoulders and dragged him to the inn. Dropping him on a rug in the corner and covering him with a sheet, they heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. A second later, the door swung open and Erkenbert entered the room.
- The ship is called "The Devil". We set sail at dawn. The captain is a bastard, and I barely had enough money. Provisions are on the ship, - he glanced at Garius in the corner. - And they won't wait for us.
He departed.
***
Derien woke up from a rough shove to the ribs. The fierce face of the priest loomed over him.
- I'm coming, I'm coming... - he scanned the room with his eyes and saw that he was alone. Going downstairs, he found the others sitting at the table and snacking.
- Hi guys, - he looked at their latest new acquaintance. - And you, uh... Garius. What do you actually do?
The Wizard's brother looked much better, but still something elusive, some spirit of inadequacy was felt in his eyes.
- Well, I... what-what... All sorts of things! So anyway, I don't complain; I live here in Luskan. I earn a decent living with my art. You probably don't know—my brother and I studied at the academy of magic in Amn.
- Really? - the bard held back a heavy sigh. - So you are a mage, like your brother?
- Yes, sir, a mage. I specialize in the field of... uh... alchemy... potion brewing, - he lowered his gaze. - Alphi told me about what you have planned.
- Yes, he did, - Alpharius picked up. - Derien, buddy, I thought—I am indeed a caster, but on the upcoming journey, I won't be able to solve all magical tasks that fall upon my shoulders. After all, I am not versed in certain areas which, by a happy coincidence, are within my brother's power. I believe we need to take him with us, for magical art of such categories isn't found lying on the road. And it will be pleasant for us to relive old times. You know, we pulled off things like that at the academy together—I still remember them with amazement. All the teachers said: "yes, these two will go far."
He spoke and spoke, and the bard listened and listened, as if immersing himself entirely in a cozy and calm ocean of persuasive speech. Finally, the sorcerer fell silent and stared at Derien expectantly with a friendly smile.
- Yes, good idea, if no one objects, - he discovered that the others were frozen in stupor. - Guys, you don't mind?
- Two casters mean double firepower; no one can withstand such intensive artillery fire. Agreed.
- I also don't mind, if our paths are destined to cross.
The bard smiled.
- Then it's decided. Welcome to our group, Garius, - he shook the mage's hand, trying to push away memories of last night.
So, Loken and I have finally started a Walkthrough of the second part of IceWind Dale, and I am ready to present it to you. This time, the plot will be laid out as a story by chapters, while everything else (side quests and miscellaneous things) will be in the comments for the screenshots.
Loken's Tale
"Prologue"
The sound of vomit erupting from someone's esophagus reached Derien L'elore's ears, and he shuddered. Glancing toward the stern, he noticed a green-faced Wizard struggling terribly with seasickness.
The bard turned away and gazed at the ocean. He had doubts about the upcoming journey. Back then, all these prospects seemed so bright and exciting. And why not—a war is raging in the north. Heroes are overcoming the onslaught of dark forces, people are fighting desperately for their lives—excellent material for new ballads. In recent years, he had been hit by a creative crisis, and the lines wouldn't come. He always strove to write a special song, the work of his lifetime. But somehow it didn't happen. There were plenty of ideas and rhymes, but the tale wouldn't flow; he couldn't even begin, same as always, he couldn't approach it. Perhaps he had spent too long in idle wanderings through villages and towns. It was time for a shake-up and new sensations.
They had set out from Waterdeep—Derien and Alanin, his loyal companion. Alanin was Derien's childhood friend; they grew up together and traveled together, earning a living through acting. Without a second's hesitation, he supported the idea of heading to Icewind Dale. The decision was spontaneous. They rode and they planned.
***
On the third day, the friends reached some small village where they decided to stop to replenish supplies and let the horses rest.
- It's a bit deserted here, isn't it? - he remarked to the stable boy, tossing him a coin.
- Everyone is at the sermon. Today is Salvation Day.
- Salvation?
- Yes, salvation of the soul. Everyone gathered in the chapel. And I have to stick around here, - the boy sighed.
Religion. Not the most interesting subject. However, the chapel lacked any conventional attributes, and the bard became curious about which god they prayed to there.
- Shall we take a look? - he suggested to his friend.
- Sure, let's.
They left the horses and headed toward the small chapel on the edge of the village. A large log house. Built quite recently. Carefully opening the door, they slipped inside. About fifty people had gathered inside, all listening to the voice of the preacher. The preacher was dressed in white robes, which, however, had lost their dazzling whiteness over time, turning gray in some places and patched in others. His shoulder-length black hair was tied with a cord, and he wore a small beard.
- And let the sacred thunder roll, the infidels shall fall, and the world shall plunge into darkness! - he exclaimed, raising his hands. - And let the miser and the wicked, the ignorant and the faithless be punished, while those who seek the truth shall find eternal bliss and eternal life!
The crowd listened with reverence, holding their breath.
- And may the minds and souls of the suffering find the truth, and may they be rewarded for their patience and aspirations! - the preacher fell silent, lowering his gaze and dropping his hands. - Now, my children, the salvation of your soul. Yes, yes, yours specifically! Yours and yours, and yours too! And yours! One coin for salvation. Renounce the material, - he signaled to a boy assistant, who walked along the rows with a bowl, collecting offerings. - So that you may behold the truth, undistorted by earthly passions...
- Unheard of! - a powerful roar erupted from the back rows. A man in tarnished plate armor and with a stern face rose from the bench. - A priest shall never collect money from the flock! All donations are strictly voluntary!
The holy father froze for a moment and asked softly:
- You aren't from around here, are you?
- Oh yes, I am a noble paladin of the Order of the Silver Shield and I am traveling on a mission from my master!
- Then you must understand that our customs...
- My mission consists of searching for, neutralizing, and bringing to justice notorious villains operating in this area! Now I shall confirm my suspicions, - he pulled a parchment scroll from his tunic and began to read. - Crooked Edgar... Horus the Fallen... Murray the Miser... Aha! Alpharius, nicknamed Slippery. Medium height, shoulder-length black hair, gold tooth, scar on the neck, shameless criminal eyes. Accused of fraud, forging heraldic documents, blackmail, petty and medium thefts, looting, tax evasion. Sentence—life imprisonment in hard labor.
The paladin showed the people a crude drawing in which the preacher's features were barely and very conventionally recognizable. The people began to murmur and stir, and the paladin walked from the back rows to the altar and proclaimed, raising a finger:
- Ignorance of the law is no excuse for responsibility! Due to the harboring of a dangerous criminal, I am also forced to impose a fee of five hundred coins on all residents of this village!
Loud cries erupted from all sides, people waved their fists; Derien and Alanin looked at each other and began to carefully push their way toward the exit.
- Brothers and sisters! - the holy father exclaimed, - Do not believe a single word of the foreigner, for I am ready to show you a Miracle of our faith to wash away the stain from my honest name, defiled by him!
- Hang him! - a cry came from the crowd.
The preacher made a gesture with his hands and loudly spoke some words, after which a dazzling flash flooded the hall. Panicking people, seeing nothing, pushed and screamed, while Derien, subconsciously ready for something like this and blinking himself clear in a couple of seconds, pulled his friend out of the chapel into the open air.
- It looks like they're ready to tear apart anyone who gets in their way. I'm afraid we can't stay here any longer—let's get out!
They reached the stables, untied the horses and, brushing off the bewildered stable boy, galloped at full speed away from the village.
***
Evening was falling, all water and food supplies were gone; the friends trudged through some wilderness and prepared for the worst. They were already ready to spend the night on the roadside under the open sky when a stone fence appeared from behind the trees. It was a small monastery. The abbot—a pale brunette in black robes—received them warmly, fed them, and provided cells for the night.
- You aren't the only ones who stop here while traveling these roads, - he smiled. - Many are going somewhere in these unsettled days.
- We are heading north, to the Dale, - Derien revealed. - They say it is currently a true paradise for people seeking opportunity.
It turned out that news of the horde threatening the Ten-Towns had not yet reached the abbot.
- Yes, - the bard continued. - Some have despaired. The horde—it doesn't take prisoners. People are fighting with all their might. Heroes are born and die. Alanin and I intend to carve out some glory for ourselves, but that's not the main thing. The main thing is rich material for sagas! Though... it's all theory. I don't know how the situation will turn out there... But how do you live here? Surely this... hm... inclines one toward reflection and peace—living in constant tranquility far from people?
- Your thought is clear to me, - the host spoke. - Indeed, here we are safe from all worldly passions. In narrow circles, our monastery is known for housing the most disciplined monks on the Coast from Amn to Neverwinter. Life here has long been frozen. To tell the truth... sometimes I miss those days when I was an adventurer. Yes, yes, don't look at me like that, it's true. We also traveled through the north. Six of us. Yes, those days... I was still just a youth then. But later we somehow drifted apart, each their own way. And I simply grew tired of everything and settled here. I liked the quiet life without worries and passions; I immersed myself in it completely. And over time, I obtained the position of abbot... However, for you, this is surely a boring story.
- No, not at all! You know, when we return, I will mention you in my ballad, - Derien promised.
The monk chuckled and waved his hand.
In the morning, the bard went into the garden to breathe the freshest morning air. Stretching sweetly, he enjoyed a walk and admired nature. Muttering to himself, he was pleasantly surprised to feel that good rhymes were practically begging to be spoken. Truly—a change of scenery is stimulating. In a wonderful mood, he went to the dining hall, where the monks had already finished their ascetic breakfast, and sat down with Alanin and Abbot Kai, who were talking in low voices.
- Good morning, - the monk greeted them. - I hope you slept as well as your companion did.
- Slept wonderfully. It's so quiet here and the forest air is so pleasant; it feels like ten years have been lifted off my shoulders.
- Do you feel all eleven? - Alanin inquired.
- Shut up.
Kai sighed and announced in a tomb-like tone:
- Gentlemen, I could not sleep this night. Our conversation awakened memories of that life within me. I have lived in the monastery for twenty years, and I knew that I could not remain here until the end of my days. I feel that I must set out on a journey. I know that through it, I shall finally find peace and serenity. Allow me to accompany you on this dangerous venture.
- But... - Alanin was taken aback. - You are the abbot of this monastery, you have duties, and...
- Oh, that is not a problem. I will pass my position to another brother. After all, everything here is done on a voluntary basis. Do not worry, I will not be a burden. I will take all my simple belongings with me. And I claim neither glory nor a share of the riches you may find on your journey. - he added with a smile.
Derien liked the monk, and the last argument only aided his decision:
- It's a deal! You don't mind, friend? - he addressed Alanin.
- Of course not. Three is more cheerful than two.
The companions shook hands and parted to prepare for departure.
***
There were no solemn farewells, joy or sadness regarding the old abbot's departure. Only a couple of monks came out to see them off. Kai's things fit into one pitiful knapsack tied to the saddle of the monastery horse.
- And why do we need a fourth mount? - Derien pointed to the black horse loaded with a couple of small bags, which was led out the gates with them.
- This is not for us, - the monk answered mysteriously.
A man stepped out of the gate, nearly tripping over the threshold.
- A familiar face! - Alanin was surprised. - And you are here, holy father?
Alpharius grimaced and glanced at them.
- And what—does that surprise you? What else was left for me to do but move from there toward Neverwinter? By the only road passing through this lovely monastery with its hospitable hosts?
- The gentleman arrived shortly before you, - Kai explained. - And also stayed for the night. I didn't know you were acquainted, otherwise I would have introduced you.
- Well, not exactly acquainted... - all four spurred their horses and slowly rode out onto the road. - To Neverwinter? We are also heading north. We can travel together for a while. And what happened in the chapel?
- That which had to happen sooner or later, and for which I was prepared, - Alpharius grumbled. - I summoned light and blinded everyone. Then I grabbed the offering bowl and was gone. Paladins... They are not of this world. Always interfering in things they have no idea about.
- He accused you of many things, holy father.
- I am no priest, as you can see. I am a wizard, - he said proudly. - I received an education at the best academy in Amn. My brother and I studied there together.
- I thought wizards teleported, lived in towers, and wore pointed hats and staffs studded with jewels...
- Stereotype.
- I've never heard of wizards robbing some country folk in god-forsaken villages.
- And I haven't happened to hear that those who talk so much live to old age, - the Wizard snapped back.
***
They reached Neverwinter. Along the way, the people got to know each other quite well, told various tales and made plans. The Wizard intended to start a business in Neverwinter; he had some connections. Judging by his stories, most of the sins were invented by slandering competitors and crooked guards, and as for the paladin order hunting him, they were generally prone to exaggeration. Kai held up well—he maintained pleasant conversations, revealed certain spiritual theses he had grasped during reflection and contemplation, never complained about anything, and argued with no one. It seemed as if nothing bothered him at all. He enjoyed every second of the long journey. Derien strummed his lute; in the evenings by the campfire, he used a stick to write rhymes on the ground. Alanin looked tired. Something troubled him, as if he expected something terrible at any moment.
The premonitions did not deceive. In Neverwinter, he heard that there was trouble in their home village. The local blacksmith, Alanin's father, had fallen ill with some disease. He was already old. Derien didn't even try to hold his friend back; he understood everything. The day after arriving in the city, they parted ways.
As it turned out, not everything worked out for the sorcerer either. That same evening, the city guard burst into the tavern; a sergeant recognized him by description, pointed at him and a couple of other bandits with his finger, and a brawl broke out. Alpharius barely escaped with his life. His projects collapsed; he had no choice but to continue the journey to Luskan together with his newfound acquaintances.
- I've heard that traveling this road is very dangerous, - Alpharius shivered. - You never know who you might meet. In the best case, bandits, and in the worst...
- Well, you're a wizard. You'll be able to protect us, I'm sure! - Derien shrugged carelessly.
The Wizard grew gloomy and continued the journey in silence.
Evening was falling, visibility was worsening; they were riding along some path in the middle of the forest. It was time to look for a place to spend the night. The bard was about to make a suggestion when a wolf's howl sounded from nearby. Several others echoed it from different directions.
- This is bad, - the bard stammered with dead lips. - Very bad.
- I suggest we speed up, - advised Kai, who seemed completely untouched by the sense of danger. The same stone face as most of the time.
They shifted to a light canter. A vicious snarl was heard very close. They put the horses into a gallop in the twilight, pushing through bushes and trees. The bard looked back for a second and noticed huge, ferocious wargs not falling behind them by a single step. The chase did not last long. Very soon they reached a small clearing only to see that they were surrounded. Half a dozen wargs, snarling, growled and dug the ground with their paws. The largest one prepared to spring.
"Surely the leader" - flashed through Derien's mind.
- I have no weapon, - the sorcerer said in a defeated voice.
- Then use magic! You're a mage! Look—they're about to tear us apart.
Alpharius opened his mouth to answer when suddenly a battle cry rang out from behind the trees, and something huge and glittering slammed into the leader, knocking him off his feet and pinning him against a tree. A hulking man in armor with a war hammer crushed the beast's skull with one blow. The remaining wolves howled deafeningly and bolted away from him like they were fleeing fire, into the darkness.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and completely bald. His eyes sparkled. Turning fiercely toward them, he himself bared his teeth and growled:
- Who are you? Report!
- J-just travelers, heading to Luskan! We were late on the road and couldn't find a place for the night. You saved our lives, thank you! - the bard spoke.
- Saved? Who misinformed you so? - the warrior growled and laughed wickedly, looking at their pale faces. - Alright, jokes aside. The area is full of dangerous creatures. These wargs are the best thing you could have encountered.
- I thought "best" meant... - the Wizard began.
- Silence! And listen to me if you want to stay alive. Now you come with me; I have a hut nearby. And in the morning, we all set off for Luskan. Questions?
- I do, - Derien raised his hand. - Why do you want to go to Luskan with us?
- Not me with you, but you with me. Because I need to get to Icewind Dale, and ships sail there from Luskan.
- Well, we need to go there too! We are heading north to find adventure, glory, and wealth. And material for a ballad. My name is Derien L'elore, I am a bard well-known in the south.
- I don't give a damn what your name is. I am going to war. Now come on, before the enemy brings reinforcements.
He grabbed the carcass of the wolf leader by the scruff and dragged it along the ground. The travelers followed him. After a few minutes, they reached a terrifying abode in the thicket of the forest. A house built from roughly processed boards and surrounded by a palisade sat on a small glade. The palisade was covered with severed heads impaled on logs. There were wolves, bears, some incomprehensible creatures. Human and even orc heads appeared. After stabling the horses, the warrior sent the travelers into the house, where they had to make do with a modest dinner. Despite his fatigue, Derien did not close his eyes.
In the morning, they left this ghastly place with relief and returned to the main road.
- I bought this beauty a week ago specifically for the upcoming journey, - he patted his horse on the shoulder in response to a question.
- And where are your armor, weapons, and other things?
- Hanging on the wall in the hut. I swore never again to participate in battles with that gear to honor the memory of my loss in the previous war with Amn. So since then, they have known only the blood of forest scum. Moreover—it makes no sense to travel in full attire and overwork the horses if you can get new equipment once you arrive.
Derien did not agree with this but preferred not to argue. The warrior's name was Erkenbert, and surprisingly, he was a priest, though he didn't say of which god. He was around fifty, had participated in two wars, and was an archdeacon. News of the unrest in the north attracted many thugs, mercenaries, and fortune seekers; Erkenbert also answered the call. Unlike most, he did not seek honors or loot for himself. Derien still hadn't managed to understand his motivation. One thing he knew for sure—a healer would never hurt them, especially one that wargs are afraid of to death.
***
Finally, the group arrived in Luskan. They stayed in an inexpensive inn full of suspicious characters. Most of them were mercenaries. Kai immersed himself in meditation in his tiny room, distancing himself from the loud shouts and noise; the deacon headed for the docks, while Derien and Alpharius decided to clear their heads and entered the nearest tavern.
- If there is anything worthwhile in this city—it's the cheap beer, - the Wizard noted, sipping his drink.
- I've never been to Luskan, - the bard said thoughtfully. - I thought it was complete anarchy here, blood flowing in rivers through the streets, and pirates slashing each other.
- And I have been to this city twice. The first time I expected roughly the same, and most unpleasant of all, I got it.
- Actually, that doesn't happen often, - the bartender intervened in their conversation. - Most of the time it's quite tolerable here. Of course, not up to the luxury and dignity of southern cities, but people live and don't complain.
- I'll step away for a moment, - the sorcerer muttered, stood up and walked into the corridor past the bar counter.
Derien became embarrassed.
- Well, I didn't mean that people are beasts and thugs are everywhere... Just... This is a den of pirates and raiders. In the sense not a den, but a center... - the bard stumbled.
- Come on, son, I know what southerners think of us. They think we're like barbarians of the north, or even worse. And most don't care. Sometimes there are outbursts from captains, but the mages in their towers quickly handle it. I'll tell you this... - the bartender's gaze slid to the entrance door and hardened. - Hey you! Do I have to throw you into the mud again? What did I tell you about visiting my establishment? Get out of here!
The bard turned around and saw a swaying man in a black, worn-out robe at the entrance. He had blond hair, three-day stubble, and cloudy eyes. Just another pub regular, Derien thought. The man, ignoring the innkeeper's shouts, headed straight for him with a smile.
- Hello, Grumpos! Pour me some of your famous ale! - he addressed him cheerfully.
- Get lost, - the bartender repeated gloomily. - You have no money anyway.
- Ha! I have no money? Me? - the visitor's wandering gaze stopped on Derien. - Look, kid, he thinks I have no money! Ha! Ha! Today I have everything, pour it, don't stall!
Grumpos looked at the client distrustfully and sighed.
- Why did you choose my tavern specifically?.. - he muttered under his breath, filling a mug of ale from the barrel.
- Because yours is all the... uh... best... To your health! - the visitor tossed a coin and sipped the drink. - And you, son, what's your name?
- I am not your son; I am Derien L'elore, a bard. And you smell of alcohol.
- Of course, because I've been drinking! My name is Garius, - he nearly knocked the ale onto the floor.
- Very interesting. Thank you, - Derien grimaced and turned away.
- You know, Mr. Bard, I also found a own inclination toward music, - the annoying visitor stood up and tried to move closer to Derien.
Passing by the table, he tripped, and the contents of the mug splashed onto a seated half-orc. The latter snorted angrily, rose, and punched the nearest visitor in the jaw. The visitor took a chair and smashed it over the offender's head. A fight broke out. Bodies and splinters flew through the tavern; everyone fought everyone. Alpharius reappeared in the hall and nearly got hit in the head with a bottle.
- What the hell!
- To the street! - the bard shouted to him.
Avoiding a beating, they managed to leave the inhospitable tavern; the drunkard who had provoked the brawl followed them. He sniffed disappointedly:
- Grumpos will never let me in there now.
- You should have watched where you were going, - Derien snapped. - Let's go back to the inn.
But the Wizard did not move. He was scrutinizing the face of their new acquaintance.
- Have we met? - he asked distrustfully.
- I don't know... Maybe we met, maybe not, how should I know, I live here in the city... - the vagabond's cloudy gaze could not focus on anything.
Alpharius cast a spell—light flashed for a moment on his fingertip and immediately went out. Muttering curses, he pulled the man closer to a lantern.
- Ah, so that's it! I wasn't mistaken! Garius, you old scoundrel, it is you.
The scoundrel's gaze turned to the Wizard's face and cleared.
- Alphi? Is it really you?
- Me! - the sorcerer patted his acquaintance on the shoulder. - Long time no see, brother!
- Indeed... I haven't seen you since you left the... academy...
- I haven't seen you just as long, - he addressed the bard. - This is my own brother! We studied together at the academy in Amn.
- Yes, yes, I remember. Your brother is not in the best condition.
- Indeed... Hey, old dog, we arrived here today and rented a couple of rooms in an inn nearby. We are going to Icewind Dale. Come with us; we need to discuss a lot!
- Well, let's go, - Garius answered and collapsed onto the cobblestones.
- Wow... He's completely gone, - Derien noted.
- Excellent observation, - the Wizard snapped back.
They hoisted the body onto their shoulders and dragged him to the inn. Dropping him on a rug in the corner and covering him with a sheet, they heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. A second later, the door swung open and Erkenbert entered the room.
- The ship is called "The Devil". We set sail at dawn. The captain is a bastard, and I barely had enough money. Provisions are on the ship, - he glanced at Garius in the corner. - And they won't wait for us.
He departed.
***
Derien woke up from a rough shove to the ribs. The fierce face of the priest loomed over him.
- I'm coming, I'm coming... - he scanned the room with his eyes and saw that he was alone. Going downstairs, he found the others sitting at the table and snacking.
- Hi guys, - he looked at their latest new acquaintance. - And you, uh... Garius. What do you actually do?
The Wizard's brother looked much better, but still something elusive, some spirit of inadequacy was felt in his eyes.
- Well, I... what-what... All sorts of things! So anyway, I don't complain; I live here in Luskan. I earn a decent living with my art. You probably don't know—my brother and I studied at the academy of magic in Amn.
- Really? - the bard held back a heavy sigh. - So you are a mage, like your brother?
- Yes, sir, a mage. I specialize in the field of... uh... alchemy... potion brewing, - he lowered his gaze. - Alphi told me about what you have planned.
- Yes, he did, - Alpharius picked up. - Derien, buddy, I thought—I am indeed a caster, but on the upcoming journey, I won't be able to solve all magical tasks that fall upon my shoulders. After all, I am not versed in certain areas which, by a happy coincidence, are within my brother's power. I believe we need to take him with us, for magical art of such categories isn't found lying on the road. And it will be pleasant for us to relive old times. You know, we pulled off things like that at the academy together—I still remember them with amazement. All the teachers said: "yes, these two will go far."
He spoke and spoke, and the bard listened and listened, as if immersing himself entirely in a cozy and calm ocean of persuasive speech. Finally, the sorcerer fell silent and stared at Derien expectantly with a friendly smile.
- Yes, good idea, if no one objects, - he discovered that the others were frozen in stupor. - Guys, you don't mind?
- Two casters mean double firepower; no one can withstand such intensive artillery fire. Agreed.
- I also don't mind, if our paths are destined to cross.
The bard smiled.
- Then it's decided. Welcome to our group, Garius, - he shook the mage's hand, trying to push away memories of last night.
Be strong. Believe