Interlude: Atlene
or how the Silver Spire Guild got its name
They were filthy, covered in ichor, blood, and random pieces of monster guts, but they were beyond happy. Their team had conquered The Crypt of Bloodfall, a legendary dungeon that few left whole. Although they had taken minor wounds, they were alive and whole. Treasure weighed them down as joy lifted them up.
Atlene looked over at her team. Selth, the rogue had convinced her to lead the team into the Crypt. He’d saved her from multiple traps down there. And Prasha, her cleric, had nearly singlehandedly slain the medusa that had turned her briefly to stone. And Boenra, well, that annoying ass. She’d never liked him, not like she cared for Selth and Prasha. But she wouldn’t want any other wizard by her side in a dungeon. She was proud of them and what they had accomplished this day. She smiled, picturing her family as she told them about this adventure. They would be…
Her thoughts came to a sudden halt as the earth convulsed beneath her feet. Rocks fell around her, and a cloud of dust enveloped the team. She tripped and fell, hitting her forehead against sharp rock. She was stunned by the abruptness of it and cried out. She heard her teammates around her answering with groans. Whatever had happened, they were still together. Atlene crawled slowly toward Selth’s voice, while quietly directing Boenra and Prasha to do the same. That’s when they heard it.
A great roar shook the cavern. No, that couldn’t be right. They had been in a stairwell exiting the crypt. What were they doing in a cavern? Were they in a cavern? The roar was ricocheting off the walls. It definitely sounded like they were in a cavern. But how? Had the stairwell collapsed? She didn’t think she had fallen that far. It seemed more like she had lost her balance and fallen in place.
She wasn’t thinking clearly, and she still couldn’t see. Something huge was roaring at them, and she didn’t know what it was or where it was. It roared again, and the echoes surrounded them. She was terrified.
She rubbed her head where she had hit it after the quake. Slime? No, blood. She was reaching for a potion when a blast of flame lit up the cavern, and she saw a gargantuan red dragon looming over them.
“Blood and glory,” she said under her breath, but there was no answer from her goddess to the desperate prayer.
She saw now that Boenra was also bleeding from a scalp wound, but otherwise unharmed. “Bony! Can you do anything with that monster?” The wizard started to mumble his standard disclaimers, but Atlene screamed, “Don’t tell me you can’t do it. You’re the best wizard I’ve ever worked with. Do something!”
“I’m the only wizard you’ve ever worked with, but I’ll try.”
She looked around and saw Prasha was trying to heal Selth of a deep gash to his leg, but it wasn’t working. It wasn’t working? She turned to Boenra and saw that he could not get a spell off. What was happening? Was the shock blocking their magic?
Her courage failed. They were going to die here. She took a deep breath, drew her sword, and hoped death would come swiftly.
As she approached the dragon, a huge man wearing very little in the way of clothing, rushed past her, thundering, “Your reign of death ends today, Scarlet Slayer!” He began slashing at the dragon with the biggest battle axe she had ever seen.
Emboldened, she leapt forward past him, taking advantage of the distraction he was providing to try to hamstring the dragon. This would have worked on her world, but as she used her patented swift strike skill she realized she could not penetrate the scales protecting the joint. Scales? There shouldn’t be scales there. It should be soft leather that her sword could easily penetrate. Was she dreaming? Maybe that knock on the head was harder than she thought.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blur of movement and turned. A beautiful halfling with wild auburn hair dashed past her. “Look,” she said breathlessly, “their soft spot is where the leg joins the belly. I’ll show you. I can’t reach it myself, but you can.” Astonished, Atlene followed her beneath the beast and saw the spot. With a thrust, she drove her sword home. The dragon bellowed.
“That’s how it’s done! I’m Darelle, by the way. Introductions later, let’s finish this thing off.” She dashed over to the other leg. The dragon was listing to one side and starting to collapse. Darelle was able to reach the spot on the other side by herself now. She had tied a dagger to her staff, and with a great thrust, she drove it into the dragon’s vulnerable spot. “Get out, get out, she’s a’tumblin’ now!”
Atlene followed the halfling quickly, shaking her head. This had to be a dream. Or maybe it was that mushroom soup Boenra had cooked up for lunch? He hadn’t really seemed sure about the foraged fungi…
“That’s Mad Hamish,” Darelle yelled over her shoulder. “He’ll keep hacking at that dragon until we tell him to stop. Barbarians! Am I right? Anyway, it’s as good as dead now. Just watch for random flames.”
Atlene saw a female cleric kneeling by Selth. The lovely, dark woman had managed to heal the gash and stop the bleeding. She was applying bandages and talking in a reassuring tone to the rogue.
Seeing Atlene and Darelle, she stood. “Elowen Dawnbringer,” she said, shaking Atlene’s hand in a strange ritual of… greeting? Atlene was in shock. That was it. Shock. A nasty blow to the head. None of this was happening. She’d wake up in a few minutes and they’d be outside the crypt counting their treasure.
“Don’t mind Hamish,” Elowen continued. “He’s been wanting to kill that beast for years. The, uh, exuberance is normal for him.”
She turned away from Atlene and back to Prasha. “I’m glad I could help, Prasha. Perhaps you and your wizard need some time at the temple to renew your connection to the Ennia. I can arrange that if we get out of here.” Prasha looked like Atlene felt, like he was in shock and none of this made any sense. Selth just looked grateful that he wasn’t bleeding out anymore.
She looked around. Where was Boenra?
In a dark area at the other end of the cavern a torch flared, driving the gloom away. Boenra was standing with a tall, lithe woman. He was babbling, and she was pointedly ignoring him. Atlene sighed. Some things never change. Even in shock, Bony couldn’t shut up.
She walked toward them, scanning the area around her. This was definitely not a part of The Crypt of Bloodfall that they had explored. It wasn’t a crypt at all, but part of a cave system. Maybe beneath the crypt? How had they gotten here? Surely this had to be a dream.
Boenra had stopped babbling now and was listening to the women. “Ah, Atlene, finally. This is, uh, Faelina. She’s the leader of this team. She told me quite an interesting story about where we are,” he finished, arching an eyebrow in that way that she was sure he knew she hated. Even in my dreams, this guy is an asshole, Atlene thought.
Faelina stayed focused on a concavity in the cavern wall, but said pleasantly, “Nice to meet you Atlene. I hope once Hamish is done playing with his kill, we can finish this job, get out of here, and spend some time together at a nice quiet tavern.”
“Tell her where we are,” Boenra prompted.
Faelina stopped what she was doing and turned. “How hard was that bump on your head, Bony? You’re well aware that you’re in the dungeon below the wizard’s tower known as The Silver Spire. No one gets out of here alive, ever, so we all need to focus right now. Please.” She turned back to the wall. “Ah. There it is.” Atlene heard a click, and the rock wall opened before Faelina. “Hold up,” she said, waving them back. “Could be trapped.”
She entered slowly. After a few minutes, she came out, grinning widely and holding an unusually shiny artifact that had lightning dancing around the blade. “The Grievous Foil,” she said with a hushed voice. “Now we have the only thing that can kill the wizard Kifr Wab and end his malign reign over the Dragon Tail Mountains.”
Atlene felt like she was sleepwalking through a very dangerous dream. She followed Faelina and her team out of the dungeon and into the Silver Spire of Kifr Wab. Despite their lowly sounding name, Faelina’s team, The Sewer Rats, killed Kifr Wab without breaking a sweat. Atlene swung her sword in the effort, but she didn’t try to fool herself into thinking it made any difference. She was numb, moving slowly, making amateur mistakes. Faelina had held the artifact and completed the kill. She hadn’t need Atlene at all.
Faelina’s team looted the spire for every artifact, jewel, and gold piece they could find, while Atlene and her team sat wearily, talking in low whispers. As their heads began to clear from the shock of their injuries and their dislocation from the Crypt of Bloodfall to this place, it was clear that they were not in their own world anymore. And this world was, well, different. Boenra and Prasha’s magic didn’t work because they weren’t “connected to the Ennia,” whatever that was. Although Selth was healed, the look in his eyes was dangerously depressed. And Atlene, the normally optimistic team leader, felt useless. They just sat and waited, wondering, no hoping, that this would still turn out be a dream.
Hamish came over. “You!” he said pointing to Atlene and beaming brightly. “You have a swift sword. Saved my life, you did. That beastie was about to claw me when you stabbed him.”
Atlene sat up straighter. “I, uh, well, hmm. Darelle had to tell me where to stab him. I was trying to hamstring him. Thank Darelle.”
Hamish laughed and pounded her on the shoulder. “Pretty ladies always shy around Hamish. I’m harmless. Really. I will call you Swiftsword. You will call me Hamish, yes? Tenderly maybe?”
Atlene took in his bare chest, covered in gore from the dragon and nodded. “You’re welcome,” she said tiredly, not answering his flirtation.
He pounded her shoulder again. “Come, come! We drink tonight! Big victory! Lots of joy in town when they hear. We are heroes. Many drinks on the house!”
As he wandered off again, Boenra said, “I definitely need many drinks.”
“Same,” muttered Selth. Prasha just nodded. The cleric didn’t generally drink, but Atlene thought that he just might tonight.
She felt a stab of pain in her heart. They had been going home as heroes from The Crypt of Bloodfall until that earthquake or whatever it had been. She thought about her brother, who had wanted to come with them, but had to take care of family business at the last minute. Her brother who had taught her how to fight, how to kill, how to win. She would never see him again. Or her mother and father, the people who had cherished her, educated her, and taught her that she could do anything she set her mind to. What she wouldn’t give to be sitting at the kitchen table, eating mother’s stew, and trading jibes with her dad and brother. Mother would halfheartedly try to get them to stop, but eventually would join in until they were all laughing so hard that the tears flowed.
A sob escaped her, and her tears did flow. But she was alone. Not with her family. Alone.
Before Selth could come to her, a halfling threw her arms around Atlene. “Come on now. Whatever happened before we got there, it’s over now.”
Atlene nodded sadly, staring at the floor. “Yes. It’s over now.”
After the hero’s reception in Overmere, Atlene and her team had healed enough to know their lives had changed and they had accepted their new reality, each in their own way. During the next week, they had told Faelina’s team about what had happened and shared their confusion with them. The Sewer Rats did everything they could to help them.
Elowen had explained the Ennia to Prasha and Boenra, and then taken Prasha to a temple where The Divine Chaplain of Nehalennia there had connected him to the Ennia.
Boenra had tagged along like a lost puppy. The Chaplain had taken pity on him and brought a local wizard in to work with him. Boenra came back babbling something incomprehensible about math and fractals and chaos theory, and having to start all over in the study of magic.
Prasha was radiant, but Boenra settled into a gloomy state that no one could lift. When Atlene asked, Bony had just said that he was terrible at math, and then he babbled on about luck and chaos theory having to land him in the one place in the universe where he could probably never be a wizard. She felt sorry for him, even if she had no idea what he was talking about. Chaos theory? What was that? The luck part she understood. There was a lot of it right now, and it was all bad.
Selth and Faelina had been talking about rogue-y stuff, which didn’t appear to be any different in this world than their own, although trap detection was going to be a bit trickier. And that left Atlene with Hamish, who was just like a big kid, really, and reminded Atlene just a bit of her brother. But Hamish was not sensitive and didn’t seem to understand how Atlene was feeling. Or maybe he thought that flirting could cure all ills.
Darelle stepped in, shooed Hamish away, saying, “Girl stuff, Hammy, go away now,” once again enfolding Atlene in her short, sturdy arms.
Atlene spent an entire day weeping in her room with Darelle, who patiently waited for her to reach the end of her tears. Sometime toward late afternoon, she felt it. The love that Darelle exuded, not just toward her, but towards everything. It was as if Darelle was channeling the energy of the planet itself toward her, cocooning her in safety and affection. She could feel it welcoming her, encouraging her, and supporting her in whatever she needed to do. She looked at Darelle with amazement. “How do you do that?’
“It’s the Ennia, you know. The magic people, they think it belongs to them, but they’re wrong. It’s for all of us.” Seeing the puzzlement in Atlene’s eyes, she continued. “It’s the sacred energy of this planet. We all channel it in our own way. Hamish channels it as destruction in the service of protecting life. Magic people cast spells. Halflings, well, me anyway. I channel it as love. Atlene Swiftsword, this planet loves you and needs you. Can you leave behind your pain long enough to let me tell you why?” Atlene sighed, but nodded.
Darelle described the beauty of her planet, The natural wonders. The diverse peoples. The amazing oceans. And then she described her city, Windgrest. It was the largest city in the world, and had been a prosperous seaport at one time. But then a cabal of nobles had dethroned a kindly king, erased history, corrupted the government, and suppressed the education and livelihood of the people. Atlene listened, horrified.
“We have a plan, me and the Rats. The old adventurers guild went defunct a few years ago. Couldn’t pay the taxes or some such rot. We took on this job, not to become heroes, but to raise the gold to restart the guild. Come back with us to Windgrest. Be part of our team. The guild will just be a cover, understand? We want to take down the cabal, and we need smart people to help us. We’re all known, and there are important people we need to get on our side who will never talk to us. But Atlene! Maybe they would talk to you.”
“Oh, I don’t think…”
“Don’t say no yet. You’re still in shock. Just think about it. We’ll be traveling for weeks to get back to Windgrest. No hurry!”
“I, uh…OK. OK, I’ll think on it. Oh, Darelle, thank you for letting me cry and for sharing the Ennia with me. I’m sure I’m not done crying yet, but I’m just a little excited now to see your beautiful country. And Windgrest.”
Darelle gave her a sideways glance. “I think you’re ready now to make friends with Hamish. In the world he came from, they called him Mad Hamish, by the way. I think that was for his fighting style.” She giggled.
Atlene stared. “He…um… is like us?”
Darelle nodded and took her hand, leading her down the stairs to the tavern.
A large hand pounded her on the shoulder. “So, she finally got you to stop crying, eh, Swiftsword. Now we can drink like Barbarians drink.” She sat down at an empty table, and, sliding in beside her, he plonked down two of the biggest ale mugs Atlene had ever seen.
“Yes, now we can drink like Barbarians drink,” she said, smiling as she punched his arm as hard as she could. He didn’t even flinch, but she saw Darelle grin and wink at her as she left them to talk. Maybe it was going to be all right after all.
[disclaimer: The Silver Spire Guild is a homebrew solo TTRPG that exists only in my head… and now in yours.]
Awesome!