WHISPERS IN THE MAZE, VOL. 3 - SCOURGE OF THE EVERMOORS (PART 1)
*This story is a work in progress, may be edited or changed, and will be added onto. Please excuse any errors you find, they should be ironed out in the coming weeks!
Hail Adventurers and welcome back to….THE MAZE!
You come to a room in the labyrinthian Maze that reeks of broken hearts, curses, and the smell of ash. You peer into a pool of water in the middle of the room in what appears to be a large dish suspended in the air by thin chains. You recognize the rolling hills, bogs and moors reflected back to you in the ripples. This is the region of Evermoors, a wild and dangerous frontier far east of the Sword Coast in the Forgotten Reams. Today’s tale picks up with a man named Caelan Morven. A young man who seems ordinary at a glance, but comes from a notorious lineage. His father, Garven, was a legendary watchman who manned the east wall in Olostin’s Hold for as long as anyone had known him. This wall was the metaphorical and literal last bastion against the horrors of the moors and the monsters that dwelled to the east of the civilized west coast of Faerûn. Deep bogs flanked the gated wall on either side, the only way in and out of the more civilized regions was through this lofty but fading fortress village. His father was a swordsman without equal, but had a dark past, one our protagonist will surely be faced with, and have to make a choice that will define his legacy. This story picks up before the night watch shift on the east gate with Caelan, his mother Elandra, and his best friend (more like brother) Thomrick, affectionately, Thom.
Part One - The Sword in the Barn.
The air over the Evermoors always held a taste of iron and peat. Even on quiet days, there was a pressure in the wind, like the land itself was holding its breath. For years, farming was a fine use of his pent up rage, but Caelan grew tired of this life. He knew there was more out there in this world than farming and the constant fear the settlers of the Evermoors faced. The horrors that scraped at the other side of the wall. At the edge of Olostin’s Hold, where the fields gave way to the broken, mist-slick wilds, Caelan swung a rusted hoe into fallow soil. The furrows stretched uneven and shallow, his thoughts drifting to the wall—where the real work was done. He and Thomrick Hale, or “Thom” as only Caelan called him, had worked the eastern watch for six years now. Rain, snow, troll raids, undead bursts—every form of forgotten horror that the Evermoors could spit out. Just making it to your 30s here meant you were tougher than any man, woman or child in the west. This frontier only allowed the strong to survive, but Caelan was sick of just surviving. His Father, Garven, was a legend in these parts. An unrivaled swordsman, not just out here, but among the best in the realm, he felt that he and his family were meant for more than a life hanging on by a thread on the fringes of civilization.
Caelan walked up to the porch, set down his rusted farming tools and sat down. Caelan’s mother, Elandra walked out of the door with a large bowl for him to wash his face and hands. “Nothing grows out here…I don’t even know why we try.” Caelan said in a defeated tone. “What else is there? his mother asked.” “Come on mom, don't tell me you never get sick of this place! Tired of working your life away? You and Dad gave everything for this unforgiving land, these people, the same ones who don't even know your name two towns over! It's unfair, we deserve more. The night watch on the wall shouldn’t be all I look forward to…and it shouldn’t keep you up at night waiting on me to come back from it.” Elandra sighed, “I know Caelan. But we have no place in the cities in the west, and no means to get there. This is who we are. We are Morvens. Your father died for this place, his name still commands respect here, as does yours, as does mine! That has to mean something to you, forget what others think, we live, survive, hell we persevere not for them but for ourselves!” Caelan looked into her eyes, “I’m sorry…I know this is home, this is what my father, and all of us have fought for. It just seems so wrong that we toil at this life and hold back the horrors of the east for people who don't even care for us…the merchants they send only come down The Way because they use our gate. I know they upcharge us on everything. The people of the coast don’t pay more than we make in a month for moldy bread and sodding salted pork, I know that” Caelan said with a half laugh.” “Well, his mother said, to hell with the coast, maybe one day we'll just let those monsters over the wall then shall we? His mother winks, I'll have supper on the fire when you get home, don't go looking for trouble Caelan”, she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Never mom, see you soon.”
Caelan walked out the front door of their modest cabin and waited for Thom to ride by enroute to their shift on the wall for night watch. Their cabin used to be a relatively nice looking piece of property on the outskirts of town, his father made sure it was, but that was then. Now, it has fallen into disrepair. Caelan worked too much to keep up with it, and his mother was older now and could only assist on the farm when she had the strength, and that was less and less often. Thom worked in town at a carpenter's shop, when he had time he would help on the Morven Farm as well, but recently his time was being consumed making arrow shafts. He says they’re for the watchmen, but Caelan knew most of them were used for Thom’s own target practice, likely into a bundle of hay somewhere. There were talks of disappearances, not to mention the lumber camps were becoming more and more risky to man due to troll attacks. The town was making good use of the lumber we did have before the winter set in. “Another cold night aye?” Thom said as he rode up, almost startling Caelan, who was half asleep after 10 hours of work done already. “Hey Thom…any trees left out there? Or are they all in your quiver?”.
Thom and Caelan pulled more night shifts on the wall than anyone in Olostin’s Hold. They enjoyed the solitude of the more quiet, albeit more dangerous east wall. Talking of the old days when Olostin’s watchmen would escort the occasional merchant through the gate on horseback and get them out of the heavy mists, moors and bogs that populated the area. These merchants however became more and more sparse, and were now drifting into legend. Thom and Caelan had never escorted one outside the gates, they had never even seen one. Most traders seen now were coming through to just drop off supplies and have a drink at the Low Hearth Tavern, which also served as the Town Hall, before heading back. These days, for the first time in history, it was more common that a troll or ghoul would make a daring run at the east wall than to see a merchant or trader pass through it. Luckily, from 80 feet up, it was an easy task for Thom or Caelan to strike any creature down with a well placed arrow, and even easier for the lower guards to run out, torch the corpse, and sprint back into the fort. Thom and Caelan were brave, yes, and sharp, in their own farm-raised way, but they were men with worn boots, bruised shoulders, and quiet grit. Caelan’s blade arm was strong from hauling grain before it was hardened by cutting into swamp-ghoul hides. Thom’s eyes were keen, not from formal training, but from watching the mist for movement that didn’t belong. “You think any of those deadbeats from the west wall will join us tonight?” Asked Thom. “HAH, don't make me laugh” Caelan replied, “those fools couldn't tell a ghoul from a bloody hen. Only reason they're on the wall is because they're sons of wealthy shop keeps or their family has ties to the church. West wall, what a joke, i could use a day off over there waving in carts and farmers, leaving only the scraps for the folks who live on this side of town, let alone us on the wall at edge of the fucking world…”
Caelan and Thom volunteered for the west night watch because they had no one else to do it. That was the way of things over here. Olostin’s hold was large, it almost seemed like the western side of town was a world away some days to Caelan. The truth is, nothing in the Evermoors was easy, even on the west wall with the “well to do’s”, but try telling that to the likes of Caelan and those he holds close. His thoughts tonight were clouded with whispers and images of his father in his head. He rubbed his forehead and eyes. Thom noticed how weary he looked, put down his tin cup of coffee and scooted his stool over. “Hey cap, you can head back if you need to, I’m good, we haven't seen anything for the last couple days. Maybe that wave of rain we had drowned all the mongrels out there in their den, plus, George and Mason are down low tonight, they're savvy, get some sleep brother.” “Sorry man” Caelan said jolting up, “You won't shake me that easily.” “I’m just thinking of dad a lot recently. Mom says I look more and more like him each day. And every day he's been gone, the older I get the more I feel like I failed him somehow, like I should be out there looking.” “Look cap" said Thom, "your dad was driven mad by this place. The weight of being the head watchman here, since his father before him, man no wonder he just wandered off. Gods only know what kind of things they were fighting back then before all these walls were built. Look brother, I know you miss and love your dad, but there's nothing east of here anymore, hell only the richest merchants with an army of mercenaries even come through here. Your dads gone mate, but at least he and the watch before us built up this wall. Olostin’s and all the towns east of here wouldn't be standing if he hadn't, these scum would be in the streets of Neverwinter by now” He said almost pridefully. Thom knew Caelan’s' dad Garven too. Hell he was the one who taught Thom to shoot. Thom’s dad was a drunkard and eventually ran out of town when Thom was just a pup. As Thom finished that sentence, Caelan stood up. “Hey man” , said Thom. I didn't mean to offe-.” “HUSH” , said Caelan, cutting him off. “Someone’s out there….” Caelan looked out in the mists that were just touching the branches of the trees at the far end of the moor. It looked like someone in a long black cloak made of hides was waving something, something that seemed to be on fire faintly. The light of the object was the only reason you could make out any of the features of the person. “Open the Gates” the boys heard from the other side of town - “What in the hell is going on?” said Thom. Caelan remained unphased as he stared out into the night. As you could hear the west gate open on the other end of town, the flame above the figure went out, and all indication anyone or anything had been there was gone. “For god's sake Caelan there's nothing there brother, come on let's go see what's happening!”
“George, Mason, stay here. We're going to see what all the fuss is about!” Thom yells as he and Caelan race across the town. As they get closer they see dozens of people. Women, children, and what's left of a small group of armed men come streaming in the gate. Distant cries turn into hysteria as they get close. “Hell has come, it's all in ruins, they took everything, they're all gone!” “What the hell happened!” yelled Thom as he approached the first west guard. “Nesme…..Nesme has been taken” the guard said, almost in a trance. “Been taken? By what? Who?” An older man staggered to his feet. “A troll, an ugly bugger with 2 heads, came across the fields with an ocean of monsters.” Thom was looking at him, eyes as big as the moon when Caelan gripped his shoulder “Don't listen to him, Thom, he's in shock mate.” “Like hell I am! Trot over there now on a pony and sure as shit you'll see the hell on earth you're so quick to dismiss.” “TO ME!” Boomed a voice from behind the group. Caelan spun around to see a large towering man standing on the front stoop of the Town Hall. It was Olostin’s watch captain - Borric Vaelstone. “Those from Nesme, come…we have Moor Elk stew and fennel bread.”
As the refugees poured in, Caelan noticed a woman, walking alone in the horde of displaced villagers. “Miss…do you have any family to help you?” “No.” She said blankly. “No one's left.” “Come on, let's get you inside.” Caelan said, almost in a whisper. He stayed with her most of the night. Something about her was different. He felt drawn to her, and she seemed to feel the same. This woman was Alira Dorne, her father was a prominent priest from Nesme. From what she told Caelan, it sounds like her father, mother and younger brother were all killed in the raid. Over the next few hours all the survivors were fed and brought inside the town hall to get out of the cold. Once Caelan was sure Alira was asleep, he walked out to the main dirt path bisecting the town to catch his breath. Thom comes stumbling out of the hall not long after, covered in blood from helping villagers out of the cold and to see the doctor. “Caelan! Gods brother, I haven't seen you in hours!” “Yeah, I found the daughter of that Dorne fella we’ve heard so much about in the last year or so, as strange as as he sounded, shame to hear didn't make it…daughter seems sweet too,” Caelan said with a sigh. “Sounds like a lot of people didn't make it brother”, Thom said. “This isn't right. We have to do something.” “Aye” countered Caelan, “but what CAN we do. The watch is maybe 80 men here, we can't all leave and have Olostin’s defenseless.” “Hell with that mate”, Thom said. “That last merchant that came through here…he had some Harper equipment on him he got from a trade. Maybe there's a group of them not far from here? The merchant was from Waterdeep.” Thom sounded as if he almost convinced himself with this long shot idea. Caelan looked up almost smirking, “Maybe, but Harpers, as skilled as they are, can't turn a troll horde. Even if that old man was lying about how many they saw, there was clearly enough to overtake the town with an active watch. Harpers travel in groups…not armies.” Caelan said in a defeated tone. “Borric is meeting with all of us shortly, maybe he can shed some light on it.”
The guard captain walked out of the hall to a group of exhausted watchmen waiting for some form of direction. “Lads, we have to strike back, and I won't lie to ya, we don't have a lot to strike back with. We need a couple of men to stay here and watch these poor folks from Nesme and man the walls here, the rest are coming with me at dawn. Once we get there, we’ll assess the situation. I won't have you all ride to a certain doom, if there's too many of them, we’ll hunker down and get some riders out west to ask the cities for aid. I'll let you all decide amongst yourselves who's staying, but it won't be an easy task to stay either…there are a lot of sick and injured people here who need your help, and the watch will need to be extra vigilant. Thom looked to Caelan. “What's the call boss…your moms here, that Dorne girl has been staring at at you all night…you can't ride off to meet them with the people here needing you like they do.” “Yeah, but I also can't let you ride off to meet this thing alone, can I?”.
Caelan walked down the trail back to his family's cabin. Before he even crested the hill, he could see the smoke billowing out of the cabin. How would he tell his mom he would be riding off to an uncertain fate, how could he explain he was doing it for her…and for this woman, Alira, he had only just met? But it was more than that…This region was a tight knit place. They knew the west coast didn’t care for them. They were the nameless faces that held the creatures and terrors of the night at bay on the other side of the world. If we didn't help each other here, there would be no help at all. We HAD to ride to Nesme, retake these peoples homes, bury the dead and show this filth that we were men and women of the Evermoors. We won't lay down, we won't stand for this, just like our fathers wouldn't. Before Caelan even spoke a word his mother hugged him. “I saw the dust kicking up from here…heard the screams. How many?” she asked. “I don't know, maybe 150, maybe more…” Thom and I are riding with Borric to see what can be done about their town. From the sounds of it, we'll just be riding there, realizing there's nothing to be done, and calling for aid from the west.” “You know as well as I do that wont be the whole of it. You may not know Borric like your Father and I did, but you know him well enough to know he won't see all that chaos up there and let some coastal fools to come handle it.” “I don't know Mom, but I know myself enough to know I wont leave things the way they are now, and I can't let Thom go alone.” “Caelan, you don't have to explain yourself to me, you just have to make it home after, I can't run this farm without your help.” “I know mom. I'll be home soon.”
Elandra was finally able to sleep now that Caelan was home, but he didn’t find the same restful feeling. He snuck to the dilapidated remnants of what used to be a barn behind their cabin. He moved some planks and rotted hay to find a wrapped bundle hidden underneath. This cloak was familiar to him, it was his fathers. From it, he drew a sword. Longer than a hand and a half sword, not quite as broad as a longsword. It felt as heavy as a horse, but somehow Caelan lifted it with relative ease. “If I'm going to make it back home, it'll take dads strength…not just my dumb luck.” He draped his fathers cloak over his shoulder and walked out of the barn, sword hilt hidden under the large hood hanging on his back. He had made it to the side of the dwelling, next to the small porch where he noticed his mother on the porch lighting a lamp and sitting in the lone chair. “Just like your father,” she sighed. “I've stayed away from his blade for my whole life mom, I know the rumors, I've heard them since my first watch. His blade is haunted or something? Please… father was an expert fighter, he had a reputation. “Yes Caelan, " Elandra said, but he also had a rage in him, he had some other voice. That blade brought only bad things to him, and to this family. It was all they ever found of him. I buried it, not only to bury the part of him we could, but to also bury the darkness it carries with it. But know this, if you take up that blade, if you're anything like your father and his father, you won't come home the same.” “I'll be ok mom, we'll be back before you know it. I swear it. This blade will be buried back in that same dirt when this is over, you have my word, I just all the help I can get for this, including yours.” “You have mine…” she said, beginning to tear up. “I'm not leaving mah. Not for long.”
Caelan gathered some odds and ends and some food as he saw Thom cresting the corner with Alira. “Hey Cae, she wanted to stay here at your place, in a home, not with everyone else at the Hearth, that ok? Caelan looked at his mom, who was already looking at him with a smirk. “Ahhh she said, maybe something to come home for will keep you from acting foolish.” “Right right enough….please look after her, she has no one left.” “You know I will, anyways, it looks like she can tend to the crops while you're away. Elandra said with a smile, wiping away a tear.” "Love you, be back soon.” “My mom will look after you, tell me what you can of your home and kin and I’ll do all I can to get them their rest and bring back anything I can find.” Alira and Caelan talked for a few moments, she kissed his cheek and he walked back to the main path to meet Thom. They rode to town where they meet up with the other 65 men on their way to meet an uncertain day ahead. “OPEN THE GATES!” Shouted Borric. Loud voice to hear this early, but reassuring in a way. Caelan looked back at the west gate close behind him. With the sun now rising just over the top of the wall, he could barely make out what looked to be a man, alone standing on the walls watching out over them. The figure raised a sword and it seemed to burst into flame backlit by the rising sun. Caelan scrunched his eyes to ease the pain of staring at the sun, looked back and the man was gone. “Already missing home” said Thom. “Yeah, about as much as I miss your wise cracks,” snapped Caelan. Shifting his eyes back to Thom, then back on the trail. They were at the back of the line. “Imagine that, said Caelan. We watch the east gate, and even on the road we watch the flank…maybe my dad really did do some bad things to have me still paying it back all these years later.” “Yeah, " said Thom, "he had you ya ugly bastard.” They both laughed, but Caelan noticed just mentioning his father almost made the blade hidden under his cloak tremble. He shifted and Thom noticed the new cloak. “Hey nice cloak mate! Where'd you find that?” “Oh, this has just been at the house for a while, who knows how cold it'll get, figured i should bring it.” “Cae I know it's your dads, I can see the crest. Wolfs head surrounded by thorns. What a shame, I know your family better than you do” Thom laughed. “Yeah mate, I bet you do.” Caelan shuffles again to make sure the blade is well hidden on his back. The wolf’s head handle and thorns wrapped around the hilt were a dead give away of what sword this is, where it’s been and what its seen. Soon, it would see much more.
