When darkness finally falls, Aglana slips back into the river and the elves bed down along its rocky bank. The ground is cold and hard through their bedrolls, not the most restful of conditions, but they sleep through the night, undisturbed. Mate gets Tric and Heppa moving in the early dawn by imitating the sounds of roosters he has heard in his time among humans. After the cousins finish grumbling about the noise, they realize Ash is already up and about. They see him crouched at the river’s edge exchanging some more quiet words with Aglana. He squeezes her hand and then joins Tric and Heppa. “Are you ready to go?”
“How are you two feeling?” Heppa asks.
“I feel quite well. Your treatments were very effective,” Ash tells her.
“Much better, yes,” Tric agrees.
Heppa removes all the bandages and quickly checks her patients over to make sure. The poultice packs did their work during the night, drawing out the last traces of infection and helping the wounds heal over cleanly. She had been a little unsure about whether the plague touch would be a problem, but she can see no sign of anything untoward in these healed injuries. Maybe all it would take to stop someone from becoming a walking corpse is a good poultice, she muses.
Over a quick breakfast, Tric reviews the plan. “So, we’re going to go to the cave, sneak in, and take out this necrophage and dark sorcerer.”
“After you ask the dark sorcerer some questions,” Ash points out.
“Well, we’ll have to fight them first, I assume. Subdue, hopefully, the sorcerer. Then ask him some questions.”
“And then kill him,” Ash says, trying to settle the terms of the engagement.
“Yes,” Tric states, though he wonders if the necromancer is a victim like Kachen.
The elves cannot rely on the necromancer being unaware of them. Even though only the necrophages saw them last time, they left plenty of arrow evidence behind. Heppa suggests it would be better to not fight everyone all at once, if possible. Given their success yesterday with the spider lure, they decide to try a similar approach in case a necrophage is still in the main cave, using some rotting meat as bait to lure it out into the light of day. Even if all this catches is more spiders, that will still decrease the number of foes they need to face in the darkness.
The plan works smoothly enough. There is a tremor on the line, and the elves all pull, yanking the bait out of the cave and drawing their weapons. However, the necrophage who comes thundering out of the cave in pursuit of a snack is an arm, a leg, and several heads larger than yesterday’s were. This is clearly the one that they never injured the day before, but it is twice as wide as it used to be. There are also some newly stitched-on parts that look to have been contributed by its fallen brethren, judging by the fletching sticking out. Tric is too perplexed to be afraid. “Well, that is a bit larger than before. Is this a ghast, then? How does that even…? Where does he get all the thread?”
Heppa does not scream this time, too horrified at the sight to make a sound. The analytical side of her brain kicks into overdrive. I think I’m beginning to see some of the appeal of necromancy. You can do almost anything. A little bit of this, a little bit of that—just stitch them together. A little sewing, a little magic. They can go underwater. They’re indestructible! You could do so many experiments…
Ash, too, is frightened, as the creature moves more quickly than he expected, and he is in the front of their group, his sword the only thing between the elves and its claws. The fight now begins in earnest, with slashes and parries. Why are we doing this again? Ash asks himself, but he manages to keep hold of his weapon this time. In his peripheral vision, he can see Tric drawing back his bow in his strange style and Heppa holding out her thorny wand. Ash dives away from the ghast to give them a clearer shot at the monster. Tric’s arrows thunk into the disgusting mound of flesh. One of them catches the ghast right in the mouth. The creature throws its head back in anger, its jaws unable to shut. “I’ve got him pinned! We’ve got to take him down as fast as we can!” Tric shouts.
During yesterday’s fight, Heppa’s magic failed her. Too late now, she realizes that in all the excitement of a mermaid and alchemical experiments, she never got around to attempting to cast in their camp under non-stressful conditions. Just in case the dapper inkcap is still blocking her in some respect, she focuses intensely in order to push through. An enormous wave of fae energy courses through her, and she channels it toward the ghast using the wand that Grandmother recently gave her.
Ivy growing around pine trees in the area twitches and stretches, snaking across the dusting of snow in the clearing. Long thorns burst out of the vines as they come from all directions to entangle the ghast. And they just keep coming. Heppa notices Tric gawking at her. Did he feel that surge? she wonders. If Ash did too, then he can do magic! I wonder if Aglana did? Oh no… did the necromancer?
Movement up above the cave entrance catches her eye, and she returns her attention to the fight at hand. Against the snow on the hillside, she sees a well-camouflaged white creature scuttling awkwardly on six legs. “Spider!” Heppa shouts a moment before it shoots a sticky-looking web at Ash. With Heppa’s warning, he spins away fast enough to just get hit by the edge of it and is easily able to slash through the webbing. Trying to be helpful, Heppa twitches her wand toward the spider, wanting the excess brambles to entwine the new threat as well. The plant life is far too eager though, and as the thorny vines writhe toward the spider, they wrap around Ash, too, carrying him along with them.
Tric continues shooting arrows at the enormous ghast, but the vines are rather in the way now, catching some of his arrows and deflecting others. Some of the errant ones hit the thicker snow just above the cave entrance. The spider is near there and skitters away. Its rapid movements are enough to dislodge a shelf of snow which slides down just behind the ghast, blocking the entrance to the cave. Maybe that will slow the necromancer down, Tric hopes. He is pretty confident that the disruption of magical energy he just felt would be enough to wake up a sleepy human mage.
Mate swoops out of the pine trees down at the spider. It is not a corpse yet, but its many eyes do look tasty. The creature sees him coming and fires off another web in the magpie’s direction. Mate does a barrel roll to get out of the way and flies on past. The spider soon has other concerns, though. The brambles have entangled Ash, but they have also pushed him up the hillside right to the creature. Though his maneuverability is limited by the vines around his legs, he still has good reach with his sword. He cleaves through yet another of the spider’s legs, eliciting an angry hiss as it wobbles on just five. It closes its pincers around his left arm, but he yanks the limb free before the spider can inject any venom.
With a loud crack the ghast finally snaps through the arrow caught in its mouth. It is still tangled up in Heppa’s brambles, though, and unable to reach its ranged attacker. During its struggles to break free, it smashes into the snow pile behind it, unintentionally clearing the way for its creator. Its frustrated growling and slavering might be loud enough to carry through the tunnels.
Following her casting mishap, Heppa’s first impulse is to try to redirect the brambles clinging to Ash, but she worries about making it worse for him. The ghast is making progress against the thorny vines around it, so reinforcing those seems like it will be more useful. She hesitates a moment longer. Hope I don’t ensnare Tric, too. No, I’m overthinking things! With her new wand, she channels more fae energy into the brambles around the ghast, reinvigorating them. She can feel an unevenness spreading through the fae currents, though, like ripples growing into rapids. The vines around the ghast are winding around it, yes, but they are also flailing about in the air, as if seeking other things to grab. This is getting out of hand, Heppa decides, putting her wand away, though she is confident that it itself is not to blame for what is happening here. She resolves to write her grandmother a thank you note describing all she was able to do with it. It’s just not safe to cast here, she decides. Either I’m overcompensating, or the dapper inkcap is doing something. She is glad that they left Butterbell down at their campsite; likely having Gaenyn’s dark sword up here would just make things worse.
The ghast is practically a bramble-beast now, but still one that needs to be put down. Tric aims carefully, trying to shoot it through the thicket holding it in place. Some of his arrows hit home but still not enough to take the creature down. Further up the hillside, meanwhile, his brother looks to be in a tough spot. “Swoop again, Mate!” Tric shouts. Two of the five remaining legs deal with swatting at the magpie. Ash is unable to land a really solid blow to the body, but one of his strokes sends a leg crashing against the brambles, impaling it on a long thorn.
And then a voice echoes out of the cave. “Did you find a snack, my pretty?”