The Black Hand of Fate - Halflings Trap

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Grunelda
Sojourner
Posts: 47
Joined: Sat Sep 07, 2002 5:01 am

The Black Hand of Fate - Halflings Trap

Postby Grunelda » Fri Apr 04, 2003 6:24 pm

Ratty Jack knew something was different, but just could not recognize what it was. Glimpses of his past haunted his thoughts. However, those thoughts were too hazy to hold onto. They flitted and slipped between his fingers. The only thing Jack knew without a doubt was that something very important to him had been stolen. Ratty Jack was helpless, agitated and soul sick till it was returned to him. The malevolent hatred in his heart, the hatred he once battled, now was the source of his identity. Ratty Jack hated every living thing he had contact with. Especially the Bitch Queen Grunelda! Ratty Jack could feel that magical bond between himself and the Necromancer - but could do nothing to break it. Her slightest wish was a unflinching command.

Her command of the moment was to follow a terrible little Halfling thief. That command was the entire point of Ratty Jack's existence. The focus on the little thief allowed old memories to flood in past the barrier of death. Ratty knew a little about the Halfling. Nokie the Locksmith, Finder of Lost Items was known by every thief in Waterdeep as a master of his craft. An adventurer of good repute, and a killer with awesome techinical skill. Ratty Jack found that these were all reasons to hate Nokie the Halfling. He also hated the aura of life that surrounded the tiny thief. The hate was powerful and deep, so powerful that Ratty Jacks desire to kill welled up in his hands as they began to glow red with magical life draining energy.

Ratty Jack knew something was different, but just could not recognize what it was. Reality had weakened for him. His concentration so great. Focused on the command of his master that he did rarely notice the walls of buildings or the locked doors that stood in his way as he passed effortlessy through them to find his quarry. Invisible to prying eyes he flew through the streets of Waterdeep searching for the living object of his Master's command. The morning breeze seemed to tug at his form, pulling at its trailing edges. The moon no longer illuminated his path, his vision was lit by the pressing desire to regain the lost. No desire to eat, to drink or sleep entered his wraith heart. Only the command mattered: "Find Nokie the Halfling and return his where abouts to the Master." The Ghost of Ratty Jack cast out a long heart wrenching banshee's wail upon the night air.

Jack disturbed the sleep of a dozens families. Passing through the body of a small boy left the boy with a months of nightmares, of death, revenge and hate. Through homes, Inns, streets, alley ways he flew - no barrier strong enough to rebuff his progress. Always the desire to kill those living beings he passed welled up in him like a black inky oil from the spot his soul once resided. Ratty Jack knew something was different, but just could not recognize what it was. He wanted to kill all living things - but only sought Nokie the Halfling.

Grunelda finished casting the spell of aging among the forest outside the east gates of Waterdeep. Excessive magic use could be dangerous in these woods that were often guarded by Druids and their minions. But the risk was worth it. To raise undead within the walls of Waterdeep violated its laws. Laws enforced by Khelben Blackstaff and his well trained men. Grunelda needed once again the guise of the Hag. Aging some 80 years, Grunelda hobbled to the East Road through what was once easily manuevered woods. Now those same woods made her bones ache and her breath feel short and rushed. She would pitch her patchwork tent on the edges of the gypsy domains, a quarter days walk from the magical gates that guarded the Black Griffon Road. For there was the Turning Point of Roads. A meeting place for mercenaries, adventurers and those people that would offer dark services for coin.

Although her body had aged many times its norm, Grunelda's mind was ever sharp. Her concentration absolute as she maintained her will over her new minion. The undead could follow simply commands, but wraiths forms - like the Ghost Ratty Jack could also feel thier masters intentions through the soul binding bond between them. Grunelda's intention was one of stealth, of secrecy and urgency. Her minion must find the location of Nokie and return with stealth and cunning to her without being noticed or destroyed by the guards of Waterdeep. This was her will, her command.

The trek to her camping spot took longer than anticipated. Feet pounding with pain and her back bent from the load she carried, she began to set up her patchwork tent as the sun dove into the horizon with crashing speed.

Long ago it was the gypsy's that wandered from the woods near Waterdeep all the way to the Svalich Woods of Bloodstone, that had offered her protection. A way to pass without noticed from the tyranny of Bloodstone into the hands of her Master Arilin. The gypsy's had traveled these lands so long that no one seemed to notice thier nomadic travel. After her long absence barging into thier camp would not be accepted, but camping on its edge would bring thier scrutiny. Eventually thier welcome as a elder of the tribe.

As her camp was set and her pillows layed out over comfortable rugs, Grunelda layed down to rest her weary bones. The flickering campfire sent dancing shadows accross the patchwork sides of the tent, lending a frightening air to the camp ground. A calm breeze kicked up suddenly to a low moaning wail as it buffeted the tent and shook its central pole. The temperature in the tent dropped even more suddenly as Grunelda felt the prescence of her minion enter the domain of her tent.

"Awwww Ratty Jack, you have returned to your love!", cried Grunelda to the air.

"Become visible my Jack so I might see you.", commanded the old hag.

The Ghost of Ratty Jack snapped into visibility.

Flickering in and out of existence the ghost hovered near Grunelda's feet. It's empty eye sockets burning red and black with hate and malevolence. Its long fingered hands glowing with a aura of death. A vampiric curse spell that Grunelda herself had learned long ago, but the ghost had learned by will alone. "You have grown a bit more into your powers my slave Jack.", she nodded to the ghost. "Now tell me the where abouts of Nokie the Thief."

Ratty Jack knew something was different, but just could not recognize what it was. Glimpses of his past haunted his thoughts. However, those thoughts were too hazy to hold onto. They flitted and slipped between his fingers. The only thing Jack knew without a doubt was that something very important to him had been stolen. This Hag commanded him, and he bent to her will.

In a voice like a rusty gate, Ratty Jack relayed the information he had to the Hag Grunelda: "The Nokie is somewhere and everywhere! It speeds around the mortal world at great speeds with great energy. It is here and there, down and up and often spins in circles returning to the place it began."

In respose the Hag drew a small blackened hand from a nearby bag, and began to pull the grey and yellow fingernail back slowly on the index finger. Ratty Jack felt pain he thought imposible wracking his being!

As the fingernail was about to snap off the Hag, replied in a low dangerous voice, "Now tell me in detail the whereabouts of Nokie, you were once a man of skills and those skills have not all left you - recall them, give me details!"

Ratty Jack knew something was different, but just could not recognize what it was. Glimpses of his past haunted his thoughts. However, those thoughts were too immersed in pain to hold onto. They flitted and slipped between his fingers. The only thing Jack knew without a doubt was that something very important to him had been stolen.

The ghost of Ratty Jack wailed, bringing up a gusting wind and a freezing cold that brought a cloud of cold breath from the Hag Grunelda.

In a almost defiant voice he shrieked, "The Nokie is somewhere and everywhere. Yet he often frequents a place to meet others of his kind. Magicians of great Power, and Illisionists on occasion, many strong armed Warriors with weapons to destroy me!" "He dallies with adventurers, with the Elders of Netheril!"

"WHERE!", commanded Grunelda as she tugged at the sinew dangling from the severed hand in her grasp.

Moaning in frustration the ghost answered, "A lavish dwelling in north Waterdeep in the nobles section of the city."

Grunelda gave a loving smile to her creation, "Awww my love tell me more, or do you need more coaxing to do my bidding?"

For the rest of the night the defiant ghost relayed small details of Nokies life to her, for hours she tortured each word from Ratty Jacks ghost. Until near the rise of the morning sun she felt that all it knew or had seen had been given. Satisifed her command had been fulfilled, "Jack, you may return to the haunts of your alley in southern Waterdeep. Do not be seen by the living or dead, do not impact the living. Wait till you are called again, follow the path of your binding when you are called."

Tired of the shrieking and wailing Grunelda dismissed her minion, "BEGONE!"

The ghost of Ratty Jack faded from view, as the room began to warm and the wind faded with the undeads passing to a gentle breeze.

Grunelda measured her new facts, hard won from her undead slave. Nokie was more likely a cohort and possibly a minion of her Master Arilin. This group of adventurers and wizards were a group of high secrecy, often moving thier meeting places and using the protections of a Illusionist to hide thier activities. "At least from the living.", cackled Grunelda to herself. So they were either in collusion in the disappearance of her Master, or were allies in finding him. Grunelda needed more information. "The ghost said that Nokie moved all the time, too hard to establish his next where abouts. So I will go fishing at the Lavish Dwelling mentioned so briefly.", Grunelda said to the empty tent. "Little thieves always return to the scene of the crime!"

Without a minutes rest Grunelda, grabbed her walking stick and headed westward towards the Turning Point. There she found three men with shady backgrounds and need for shiny coins. A simple thing they understood well, "Ehh boys, this thing I need yer strong arms n backs fer is a thing of vengence!" "My beloved, was kilt in the alleys of the stinkin city by a noble, a gypsy hatin noble that cut off his hand and let my love bleed out upon the paved streets he hated so much." Grunelda began to cry as she continued, "In another time he would have wanted to be buried among the grasses of the plains. But since he was murdered we need blood vengence for his soul to rest peacefully." "You understand my boys, good wanderers ya are yerselves." The men nodded thoughtfully. "Take his body, hidden safe in the alley, by the cover of night and hide it in the floor boards of house I named to ya. Cover yer tracks carefully and let no one know of yer deed!" "Give my man a chance to haunt his killer and earn his rest - eh boys?" Grunelda held out a boney spotted hand filled with new gold coins. A moment later her hand was empty and the men were rushing toward the gates of Waterdeep. Grunelda's preparations for this moment were well planned. Ratty Jack's body was neither too tall nor too fat to fit in the floor boards of a nobles dwelling.

Three nights later, in the comfort of her tent. Grunelda lit the black human fat candles from her traveling bag and concentrated her will upon the tenous thread of binding between herself and the ghost of Ratty Jack. "Come to me my love, come to your Grunelda!", she commanded in a whisper that twisted the black smoke from the candles into a intricate hovering swirl. Almost immediately a snarling mask of hatred and violence appeared in the swirling smoke and seemed to gather the smoke as wraith like flesh. "Your call is answered Bitch Queen,", hissed the ghostly face of Jack.

"Jack my lover, you shall haunt the place your mortal remains reside until released from your binding." "My will, my command is for you to gather information on the comings and goings of its visitors. And to further relay to me all information connected with the Master Arilin. We must discover his path or his location - Master Arilin! do you understand?"

The smokey face of hate did not change, but along the thread of the binding, Grunelda knew her command was absolute.

"You are to stay hidden, do not give yourself away - use the stealth you learned in life. If you are discovered fulfill your desire to kill!"

"As I am commanded.", replied the ghost of Ratty Jack stoically.

Grunelda promptly blew out the candles. As the smoke disappeared from the tent, so did the ghost of Jack.

A few days later Grunelda began to pack her belongings, leaving the patchwork tent along the borders of the Gypsy's summer lands. It was impossible to predict the next meeting of the Elders at the lavish dwelling that Ratty Jack now haunted. Better to use her time productively. A garishily painted wagon rolled up to her camp, pulled my a pair of large slow moving oxen. "Me heard that your Elderness was need'un to move to the east and da north!", came a happy voice from the drivers seat. "Yer more than welcome to travel with ol'Darrigo to the lakes of Skeldrach if I'm going yer way, yer Honorable Ancientness."

Grunelda had put the word out among the Gypsy's that she would like to search for magical components, near the caves north and east of thier location. An activity that most Gypsy's would take in as a common request from a old Gypsy woman that lived alone and seemed to protect the outer edge of the tribe. Old persons in the tribe were revered and given great deference. As always Grunelda hid the truth of her trip close to the heart of the lie. Arilin's last know venture out of Waterdeep took him to the lands known as the Underdark. Unlike Grunelda, Arilin travelled to those dangerous lands in search of a spell component - mushrooms. Grunelda planned to follow her Masters path and ferret out any clues she could on his disappearance. Or possibly his successes. A twinkling of understanding was begining to enter her mind, but she could not yet bring it to the fore front of her thought. Either way, Grunelda had to find Arilin soon.

"Aye, yer a kind man to offer an old Hag a ride in yer plush wagon!", waved Grunelda to the Gypsy. "Come throw some of me load inta yer wagon my boy." "And tell'un the tribe that my tent needs a watchin. If ya will."

Darrigo picked up the two bags from from the old Hag and tossed them effortlessly into the painted wagon. At the sight Grunelda longed to toss away the facade of age, and return to her true form for such a journey. Grunelda carried more weight on her old shoulders than just those two bags. She wondered if she was getting over her head trying to follow Arilin.
Grunelda
Sojourner
Posts: 47
Joined: Sat Sep 07, 2002 5:01 am

Postby Grunelda » Tue Jan 11, 2005 10:39 pm

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