D&D Way to Sword Coast

Chapter 21: Courage

After concealing the wagon and mule, loaned to them for the job, the trio continued towards the village. Gradually, the trail developed into an old, overgrown lane winding between dilapidated buildings choked in vines and brush. Ahead of them, in the middle of the settlement, rose a steep hill, upon which stood a stone tower with a partially collapsed rook adjoining a cottage. A dirt road hugged the base of the hill and wended its way between old stone houses, many of which were roofless ruins open to the weather. The whole place was draped by an eerie silence.

On the outskirts, they found a wooden sign nailed to a nearby post. A shiver ran up his spine that had nothing to do with the cool midmorning breeze. It read, 'DANGER, Turn Back! Only death dwells here!'

"Father," Yulia whined softly from behind his leg, "The air...feels...wrong." He'd forgotten the girl couldn't read common and was taking her cues from him. The Tiefling was practically quivering. Not knowing what to say he placed a hand reassuringly atop her head, before nodding to Lesmythe. Jaw tight the half-elf pulled the girl close to her.

He'd wanted so desperately to leave them both with the wagon, but neither could be persuaded to stay. Lesmythe's health had improved, but she wasn't ready for combat. Yulia...was Yulia. He could only pray that whatever threats they met he could handle them on his own. The apothecary had insisted the village was abandoned, but Alidorim couldn't help but feel doubt. He recalled a young lad in the guild mentioning monsters in Thundertree. He was hiring an escort to collect herbs. Had that been the long-lost assistant?

The Dragonborn wasn't taking any chances and made sure the girls stayed behind him. Drawing his short sword, he advanced into the village. The client had mentioned the herbs grew in heavily shaded areas in soil rich with volcanic ash. With the lanes exposed to direct sunlight that only left the buildings themselves to explore.

The first structure they approached was a crumbled stone cottage rampant with weeds cowering in the shadow of an old tree. Peeking through a window he saw nothing but rotted furniture and a pair of twisted saplings near the door.

Moving on they approached the next pair of buildings. These ruined, side-by-side cottages looked as though they might've housed some prosperous shopkeepers or well-off farmers in their time. All that remained were collapsed walls and piles of debris. Several young trees grew up amid rubble and masonry. He got a good look inside the cottages before retreating. No herbs but one of the flagstones had been pried up from the floor recently.

When he explained what he'd seen Lesmythe suggested that the assistant's party may have been looting while he collected herbs. That might also explain the assistant's disappearance. His escort was too busy looking for treasure rather than doing their jobs.

The theories could wait. They still had many buildings to search and plenty of daylight left.

A weathered signboard by the door of the next building depicted the faded image of a workhorse holding a flagon of ale. The large building was sagging and dilapidated, but it was more intact than the previous ruins. Weapon ready, Alidorim entered what had once been a tavern. In the dim light of the room, he spotted four humanoid corpses scattered about the room beneath mounds of packed ash. Even after thirty years the smell of yeast still permeated the air amidst the scents of mold and decomposition.

Alidorim's hackles rose as he heard Yulia whimper. She was gripping Lesmythe's hand, face buried in her cloak. Wide-eyed and pale the woman pointed. Alidorim turned in time to see one of the previously immobile mounds begin to rise. The packed ash crumbled away revealing one of the town's previous residents, half-rotted. Raising its arms, the desiccated corpse twisted its sunken features in the direction of the trio. Its mouth opened impossibly wide and issued a stomach-churning moan.