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A Ranma ½ Forgotten Realms Crossover
The Crown of Neverwinter
By: Grounders10
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The Broken City
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The walls of Neverwinter were carved from stone that had been taken from quarries scattered up and down the sword coast over the centuries since its initial construction. Multiple wars with Luskan and a myriad of enemies from Dragons to Gods had worn them down again and again only for the resilient denizens of Neverwinter to build them up once more. Whatever had struck the city had certainly tried to do what centuries of conflict had failed. The crenellations along the walls were missing in most places, replaced by crude wooden replacements. The sides once kept smooth to reduce the odds of anyone successfully climbing them, were pitted and chipped. The towers that were spaced every one hundred feet were broken and ruined. And yet the walls stood. Men in leather or chainmail walked the walls and stood guard by the gates as Ranma and her party walked down the poorly maintained road to the gate.
"I don't recognize the uniforms," Malleth said softly to Blackburn. The two were at the front of the group and just in front of Ranma.
The seven-person group were now all wearing identical inconspicuous brown cloaks. While the adventurers were still wearing their usual clothing beneath the robes; Ranma, Nabiki, and Nodoka had all changed into spare wizarding robes that Blackburn had in his bag. The three robes had been from an identical set of ten that the wizard claimed he kept on hand for 'cases such as this'. Apparently wandering wizards with a gaggle of apprentices were not unheard of.
The robes had been all of the same size, but with a few minutes of work, Ranma had managed to tailor them as best as could be done. She was hardly a master of sewing but most of the changes were simple. Shortening sleeves and hems was hardly a difficult feat. More of an issue was the fact that the robes were intended for men or women like Lady Mason. They had not been intended for women like Ranma, Nabiki, or Nodoka. Ranma had the blessing of being short, which left a lot of material to work with. Nabiki, while not short, was in much the same position as Ranma. Nodoka, however, was left with robes that could be considered to be a size too small in everything except the length of the hem and the arms. There had been more than a little complaining when that fact had come to light.
Still, they fit the appearance of a trio of apprentices, their wizarding master, and their guards well enough to pass muster. In theory, at least. Ranma hoped it would be enough to avoid unwanted scrutiny.
"They would seem to be mercenaries," Blackburn replied, "Islanders by the look of them. Out of Mintarn most likely." The Wizard nodded to himself. "Now, stay quiet and let me do the talking," he reminded them as the guards took note of their approach.
"Halt!" One of the guards by the gate shouted at them as they came within a hundred feet of the open door. Blackburn waved for them to obey and they came to a stop. A pair of guards left the gate and walked out to meet them.
"What seems to be the issue?" Blackburn asked as the guards reached them. The two guards had the same skeevy look about them. Ranma wrinkled her nose at the smell rolling off the one who hadn't shouted for them to stop. He smelled like he had been spending too much time around fire pits. The scent of smoke and ash wafted off him like he spent most of his days cuddling a fireplace.
The other guard didn't even bother looking at Blackburn as he responded, his eyes instead wandering across Ranma and her mother. She didn't miss the way his eyes lingered on the strained fabric of her mother's robes. "Yer coming in from the North Road. That's enough reason to stop you right there. Not much good comes from the north these days," he said, his voice pitched just high enough to grate at the ears.
"It has been a rough journey I'm afraid," Blackburn sighed, "The roads are by far worse than I remember the last time I came this way." He looked past the soldier to the walls. "I don't remember the walls of Neverwinter being so damaged."
The guard snorted and glanced back to the wizard for a moment before letting his gaze wander back. "Been this way for years. I thought word had gotten around years ago about what happened."
"I'm afraid we were up in the Icewind Dale for the last while," Blackburn said easily, "Getting current news is difficult up there."
"Well your news is a bit less than current," the second scoffed. The smoke-smelling man was pacing around them. Unlike his companion, he seemed to care more about what they were carrying than ogling the women of the group. "You're about three decades out of date." Ranma tried to ignore the small noise her mother had made.
"Three decades?" Blackburn shook his head, "I could have sworn it was only two since I was last here… Though time does get a bit strange on the tundra." He ran a hand through his beard and hummed as though he had fallen into absentminded thought.
"Still, you say you're out from Icewind Dale? Bit of a long way to go without horses," the second guard observed.
"We had a cart actually," Malleth added, "We lost it a few hundred miles back."
"Lost?" The second guard stopped in front of him. Leaning forward into his personal space. "And how did that happen?"
"Dragon," was the archer's dry reply.
"Dragon?" The guard stepped back, "It didn't follow you, did it?" His eyes went to the sky to the north.
"The last we saw of it," Blackburn began, shooting Malleth an annoyed look, "it was feasting on the horses. It wasn't too old. A juvenile at most so I doubt it would venture this far from its preferred hunting grounds."
The smokey-guard grimaced and glanced at the first. He jabbed the man in the gut with an elbow. He grunted and broke off from undressing Ranma's mother with his eyes. "Right, right," he grumbled upon seeing his companion's look. He glanced one last time at Nodoka, then slid his gaze to Ranma who scowled at him, and finally turned his full attention to Blackburn. "Name and purpose Wizard," he demanded.
"Verrian Brucklebuck," Blackburn introduced himself, "With two Rs in my first name, not one. Two."
The guard rolled his eyes. "And the purpose of you and your party is?" He asked.
"Visiting friends…" He glanced at the rough stone wall, "Though if the view of the city from the hill is any indication I rather doubt I'll find them. We'll be staying a few days either way. We need to restock and find new horses before pushing on to Waterdeep."
The guard nodded. "And your party?" He asked, taking the opportunity to leer at Nodoka once more. She stepped behind Lady Mason who glared at the guard. He seemed amused more than anything before shifting his gaze to Nabiki.
"My apprentices and guards. I used to have a few more guards before the dragon," Blackburn complained, "Do you know how hard it is to find good help in Icewind Dale? I spent decades up there and I only found ten people, and that includes my apprentices!" He sounded truly aggrieved. If Ranma hadn't known better she might have even believed him.
The guard snorted. "I wouldn't hold yer breath finding good help around here either. Everyone capable works for the Lord Protector like we do and he doesn't take kindly to random wizards poaching his guards," he warned.
Blackburn grumbled but nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Now, it has been a long walk. May we head into the city?" He asked.
The guards stepped back and conferred for a moment before the first came back. "Well, there is the matter of the entrance and administrative tarifs," he said.
"Tariffs?" Blackburn squawked, "Entry to Neverwinter has always been free."
"New management new rules," the guard said with a wide grin, "Now, the entrance fee is one silver per person. Administrative tariff is five silver." He held out his hand.
Blackburn frowned at the man for a long moment before grumbling and pulling a nearly empty coin purse from within his robes. He counted out 12 silver coins. "That takes care of everything I assume?" He asked.
The guard gave a disappointed glance to the Wizard's coin purse before nodding. "Yeah, that's everything. Yer free to head in, just keep out of trouble," he told them.
"We'll keep our heads down," Malleth said with a grin and a pat to Blackburn's back. "Come on old man, let's get inside where it's warm." The wizard grumbled, but let himself be herded towards the gate.
"Come along everyone. Let us go and see if my old friends are still around," he said, waving for them to follow along. The group moved out, passing the guards who stood by as they walked past. Ranma passed close to the first guard and sidestepped instinctive as he tried to swat her butt. She glared at him but refrained from following through with her usual instinct to break his hand. They didn't need more trouble.
As they walked through the gate Ranma moved over to her mother. "Are you alright?" She asked, "That creep-"
"Was about what I expected from a mercenary," her mother sighed. The older redhead shook her head and scowled. "Don't let it get to you too much. You'll find others like that among the rest of these mercenaries," she cautioned.
"I better not," Ranma grumbled, crossing her arms as they entered the city proper.
Directly in front of the gate was a large square of cobblestone with several paths that branched off from it. To their immediate left and right were paved roads that followed the line of the wall. They were lined with overgrown hedges, trees and tall grass. On the right were a pair of large homes that were built up against the wall. There were two roads that headed deeper into the city. Neither of them was straight. Their cobbled forms wound off into the tangled mess of walled-off gardens and mansions.
"Blacklake district. How far has it fallen..." Blackburn mused as he came to a stop at the far end of the plaza from the gatehouse. The guards from earlier had stopped paying attention to them and were chatting amongst themselves now. Ranma's keen eyes caught the glint of silver exchanging hands.
"This is looking pretty damned bad," Malleth agreed. He pointed to a run-down storefront that was wedged between two mansions. "That used to be a really good bakery. Looks empty now," he observed.
"Don't draw too much attention by waving your hands around Malleth," Blackburn chided as he observed the rundown state of the area. "And to think this was the affluent district. The streets were always quiet, but these are empty. Keep an eye out as we go. I wouldn't trust the city to be safe."
Ranma's mother stepped up to Blackburn. "We need to take a proper look around, but first-"
"The castle," the wizard concluded for her. She nodded. "... let's get moving. We can talk away from the gate. Mason, you know the way." The Paladin led the way. Her helmeted head turned left and right as they walked. She was scanning the small side roads and gated gardens they passed.
Nabiki suddenly sniffed loudly. "Do you smell that?" She asked. Ranma sniffed the air. There was something oily in the air. A foul scent that reminded her of spilled fuel.
"I smell it," she said.
"I smell it too," Formond said. The Dwarf pushed back his cloak and laid a hand on the pommel of his sword.
As the party came to a halt between streets and the adventurers looked about trying to pinpoint the source Ranma looked to her mother. Nodoka was staring off down the road. "I think I know what it is," she said, getting everyone's attention.
"Well do enlighten us then," Blackburn prompted, pausing awkwardly at the end of the sentence like he was holding himself back from adding something.
"It's coming from the Black Lake," she said, pointing down the road to where a line of trees and overgrown hedges cut off the view of whatever was behind it. "Come on." She hurried down the road, the skirt of robes held up to let her run better. The rest of them dashed after her and around the corner. They ran a bit down the road to a break in the hedgerow where Nodoka came to a stop. "No," she gasped. Only the hand of Lady Mason on her shoulder kept the Princess from running through.
"Nodoka, let me," Mason said, pulling Ranma's mother back from the gap so she could step into it herself. She stepped back a moment later looking sick. "I- Blackburn, you may want to take a look." She gently steered Nodoka away from the gap to lean against the opposite fence. Formond held back, keeping his eyes on the road behind them and one hand on his sword.
The Wizard and Malleth stepped up to the gap and peered through. "Well, it would seem that the Black Lake is now simply 'The Black'," Malleth said with a disgusted grimace, "Pity. I quite liked spending a lazy afternoon there. The plays in the pavilions were always a treat."
"They will be again one day," Blackburn said, patting the archer on the shoulder as they turned away. His expression was sad as he turned back to Ranma's mother.
Curious Ranma took the chance to peer through the hedgerow. The smell grew worse as she stuck her head through. Beyond was what had clearly once been a nice park with gazebos and broken brick paths scattered through the sparse grass that surrounded a large pond several hundred meters long. At least, it had once been a pond. Now it was a quagmire of black sludge and mud that bubbled intermittently.
As she watched an amorphous form squelched out of the depths of the lake. A transparent cube that was black and grey with a tinge of green. It jiggled and swayed as it slowly squelched along the surface of the former pond. Then in a single sudden motion, a much larger amorphous blob of a sickly off pink swelled from the lake and dragged the first back depths.
"Christ," Ranma glanced over her shoulder at the horrified look on Nabiki's face. "What was that?"
"Define that?" Malleth asked.
"A big grey blob just popped up from the lake and got eaten by a larger pink one," Ranma said. Blackburn tsked.
"Slimes. Joy. How big?" the Wizard asked.
"The second was about the size of a car," she added. That was a slime? She'd seen them depicted in fantasy manga before, but those things were tiny, practically harmless. That could have swallowed her pops in his panda form.
"Breeding size then," Mason said.
A low growl silenced further discussion as everyone turned to her mother who was gripping the crumbling stone of the wall hard enough to leave marks. "What happened here?" she demanded, "This-" She trailed off into another low growl.
"Something beyond the capabilities of all but the most powerful mortals," Blackburn said bluntly, "assuming all the damage came from a single event at least. Nodoka, given the state of the Blacklake perhaps the Castle is not the best place for us to head immediately. We've travelled far and-"
"I still wish to see it, Blackburn," Nodoka cut in sternly.
The wizard sighed and nodded. "I expected that you would say that," he said, "Mason, lead the way. Formond, rearguard."
"This way milady," Mason said gently, moving to take the lead once more. One hand came to rest on the hilt of her sword as the group moved on from the lake and down the broken cobblestone streets.
Ranma kept close to her mother as she scanned the broken buildings and overgrown sidestreets. At first she was looking for threats, dangers in this place, but as they failed to materialize her focus wavered and she turned her attention to the buildings.
The mansions really were quite impressive, broken down by disaster and time as they were. Some were simply large houses with enclosed yards, others pressed their outer walls straight to the street. Most of the brickwork was made from granite or marble with the occasional house of crumbling red brick.
Birds flitted in and out of ruined homes and the chirp of songbirds could be heard over the stifling silence of the deserted town. She spotted the occasional squirrel as it ducked in and out of sight amidst the branches of the trees that overhung the road from overgrown gardens. On a bright day like today, it threw the streets into dappled green shadows that seemed as worrying as they were welcoming. A consequence of the overgrowth was that the Castle all but disappeared from sight as they walked, despite the way it towered over the entire city on its own hill.
Eventually, the ruined homes and overgrown mansions gave way to a spattering of repair work. Patched roofs, trimmed trees, and even a mansion with proper glass windows in the frames. Two men in leather armour stood outside the gate of that mansion and watched them as they went by.
The number of people started to tick upwards, though there were never more than three in sight at one time. Their clothes were often a bit dirty, their owners clearly labourers, though there was a scattering of more well off men and women. Once they stepped aside to allow a horse carrying a woman in a magenta dress riding side-saddle and her two guards to pass.
"So few," her mother whispered after that, her voice barely carrying to Ranma despite the overall quiet atmosphere of the city.
Finally, the noise of many people talking and laughing began to drift towards them from further ahead. Nodoka walked forward faster and she hurried to keep up. Her mother came to an abrupt halt as they spilled out into a cobbled stone and dirt square. Compared to the streets the square was positively bustling. People walked in and out of the dozen or so open shops that lined the sides of the square, though there were many more boarded up and two were ruined to the point their roofs had caved in. A few were sitting and eating at benches and tables set up outside a bakery. There were even a half dozen children running around the dilapidated fountain in the center of the square.
"Now this just feels… wrong," Malleth said
"Wrong? It looks better than the rest," Nabiki said.
"Girl…" Formond sighed, "Used to be that at this time of day you'd never be able to see the far side of this square because of all the people." The dwarf shook his head. "This might look normal to you, but I remember having to shout to clear a path for the King through crowds so thick that you needed mounted knights to get anywhere."
"Home," her mother whispered, breaking their conversation. Ranma glanced over, frowning at the melancholic look on her mother's face as she looked up at the castle now that the overgrowth was no longer blocking the view. This was a lot harder on her mother than she had thought it would be when they had been talking about it back at the Dojo. Of course, they hadn't expected the city to be in ruins either…
It was just a city but… She frowned, this was difficult to understand for her. She hadn't known any place other than the Dojo well enough to get attached to it and even then… well after the way her pops had dragged her off that one time she had been trying to avoid getting too attached to it. She hadn't even had enough time to get attached to their old house before it got levelled by obsessive fiancees.
She laid her hand on her mother's shoulder and smiled as her mother glanced down for a second before looking back up. She followed her mother's gaze. They had covered half the district and now the castle was starting to loom over the city, a stone leviathan whose shadow would cast entire blocks into darkness in the evening.
"Let's keep moving," Blackburn said, placing a hand on her mother's other shoulder and gently guiding her through the square. A few people looked up from what they were doing, and the group of children running about the square nearly ran into them, but they got through there without further incident.
The street that Blackburn led them down was a proper boulevard with overgrown or empty planters in the median of the street. A few, usually those in front of a shop or home, had been repaired with wooden planks and were neatly tended. Population density continued to increase as they followed the road through three more plazas until it reached the river she had seen from the hilltop. The road split, one smaller street turning away to follow the riverside towards the far end of the city while the other turned towards the three bridges over the river that were clustered near the castle.
"This way. The ramp up is at the crossroads past the bridges," Blackburn said, the old wizard glanced towards her and Nabiki. Ranma nodded.
The city blocks closer to the bridges were nearly new construction in comparison to the more worn down buildings further in. Cleaner stonework and new roofs were the dominant features of the area with little in the way of the patchwork roofs and soot-stained stonework the rest of the district was so clearly dominated by.
The three bridges were a mixed bag. The closest one was barricaded off with a makeshift wooden palisade, though from their angle Ranma could make out a gaping hole in the center of the bridge. The middle bridge was in the best condition with a constant trundle of people and carts going in either direction. The furthest bridge had another palisade up along with what appeared to be scaffolding from which men were working on the bridge.
A pair of guards were standing watch at the closest end of the middle bridge, though they seemed too engrossed in their own conversation to notice as their company walked by on the far side of the road. Though that may have had as much to do with the people in between them as their conversation.
The ramp leading up to the castle was pointed almost straight at the end of the furthest bridge and a few people glanced their way as Blackburn led them up the ramp. Halfway up Ranma paused to take in the view. Hundreds of people mingled in the streets as they bustled about life.
She turned away at the prodding of Mason and trudged up the slope towards the castle. It had been months since the last time Ranma had gone near a castle, and truthfully she had never been to a European castle. There had been a few manors and certainly many traditional castles in Japan, but never a genuine European castle. Technically, she supposed, Castle Never didn't count either, but only because it wasn't built by Europeans.
The gatehouse was a towering edifice of stone that loomed larger the closer they got. Thirty-five feet tall on top of the already steep slopes that led up to the gate, and the towers on either side of the doorway had another ten feet at least.
The gates hung open, one of them lying on its face in the doorway with ivy crawling over it. The wood was heavily burnt and that which wasn't was rotting enough that they left footprints with each step on the crumbling material. Other footsteps were visible from prior visitors presumably, though Ranma would be hard-pressed to guess if any were recent.
Blackburn stopped in the far end of the doorway and he quickly stepped back, waving Mason forward. The heavily armoured paladin stepped forward. He whispered something into her ear and she nodded before leading the way out into the courtyard.
Her hand was gripped tightly around the hilt of her sword. She was ready to draw it.
Ranma's gaze, previously lax from watching the birds and animals, sharpened as she started searching. Something had them on edge… where were the birds? There had been birds throughout the rest of the Blacklake and now there was nothing. Even the creak carts and conversation that had bubbled around the bridges were absent. It was silent, almost dead silent except for the breeze blowing across the stone.
Two steps took her to her mother's side and she stuck there, just in case.
The courtyard was a ruin. That was no real surprise. There were sections of the outer wall that had crumbled to ruin, that much had been visible from the hill outside the city. Debris filled a lot of the courtyard and the outbuilding to the left was missing its roof. It hadn't caved in, it was simply gone leaving charred stone walls crawling with vines.
And then there was the keep itself. Ranma's head tilted back to take it in. Castle Never stood like a mountain over a dozen stories tall. It's tallest towers were ruined, and at a guess, she suspected that a lot of the debris in the courtyard came from those crumbled towers. The walls were cracked and crumbling, with gaps in the stonework forming around arrow slits and windows. The yard was overgrown with grass and brush, though a path had seemingly been maintained leading around the keep to the left of the gate. And speaking of gates, the gate of the
This place was a ruin.
Crack.
Blades were drawn in a blink as Mason and Formond stepped in front of the group. Ranma stepped in front of her mother. The creak of wood and string let her know that Malleth had drawn his bow as well.
Everyone was looking at a stack of barrels that were conspicuously non-overgrown. For a moment there was silence, then Blackburn sighed and pushed his way forward. "Whoever is out there, come out. We mean no harm. Please, come out," he called.
There was a rustle, then a blonde man in a brown and silver vest with a wide-brimmed fedora blent upwards on one side, stood up from behind the barrels. He held one hand in the air while the other rested on the sword hanging from his waist. "You aren't with Neverember's men then?" he asked.
"Just visitors to the city," Blackburn said, gently pushing down Malleth's bow. "Verrian Brucklebuck at your service. Purveyor of arcane mysteries," he introduced himself, "It has been many years since I was last in Neverwinter and I thought I would investigate the… rumours as it were."
"Rumours?" the man's hand edged towards his blade even as his eyes darted towards Malleth.
Blackburn waved a hand. "Apologies, a poor choice of words. Very poor indeed. I saw the damage from the hills overlooking the city and just had to take a look myself. I once walked this very courtyard in service to the Royal Family once upon a time many, many years ago," he said looking around the courtyard with a nostalgic expression. "Ah, those were the days of my youth when Neverwinter was inhabited by better things than orcs and ghosts."
The man relaxed marginally. "Well, if it was a closer look you want I'd advise against it unless you have a desire to prove yourself old man," he said. Something red flashed in the corner of her vision and Ranma's eyes darted to follow it without moving her head. Something had just poked out from behind the corner of the keep before withdrawing.
"And why is that?" Blackburn asked, curiosity in his tone.
The man waved to the castle. "It's completely overrun with pests and ghosts inside," he said. Ranma shivered at the mention of ghosts. Her last few encounters with those sorts of things had gone… not great really. Really not great. "There're even rumours that a beholder has moved into one of the towers." Ranma twitched at the low growl that emanated from her mother.
"Rumours? Actual ones, or the fanciful tales you and your companions use to keep this place clear?" Blackburn asked with a hard tone. Malleth's bow came back up to point at the corner of the keep.
"Peace, peace," the man held up both hands, "there's just myself here."
Mason scoffed. "That would be the first lie he's told so far," she said, before sighing and lowering her guard, sheathing her blade. "Get them out here and let's talk. Assuming Verr has no issues?" she asked Blackburn pointedly.
"How many times must I ask you to not call me that?" Blackburn sighed, "But yes, we didn't come here for a fight. That said, I do find myself curious as to what has befallen the castle since I left the city so many years ago. You seem knowledgeable, how would you feel about sharing some of that information?"
Formond slowly followed Mason's lead and his blade was returned to its sheath.
"That depends on who is asking," the man said, waving for those behind the corner to come forward. A motley trio of a black-skinned elf girl with a pointed hat, a dark-haired young woman, and another blonde young man emerged. They looked to be about Ranma's age physically, perhaps a year or two older at most, though she wasn't entirely sure what that meant for an elf. All of them had swords hanging from their belts.
"We prefer to remain outside of the city's political squabbles," he continued.
"Then you have nothing to worry about," the old wizard replied as he looked over the group, dragging Mallth's bow back down again. The half-elf grumbled, but relaxed the bow, though he didn't put the arrow away. "My interest is purely personal in nature. "
"There has been a bit going on inside, I'll admit," the man said before shrugging. "Sure, why not. What do you guys say? Up for guests?" he glanced back at his group.
"Assuming they stop pointing weapons at us," the girl said, watching their group warily. Ranma looked them over. They looked like they might know a thing or two about how to use their weapons, but compared to her, or even to Mason and Formond, they were poorly skilled. To start with both the human girl and the other boy were wearing their sheaths improperly. The crossguards of their swords were likely to catch on their clothing if they attempted to draw in a hurry. The elf however had an air about her, like she was used to fighting.
"Don't give us a reason to, and we won't," Mason replied.
"Good enough for me," the man said, walking towards the path around the castle. "Come on, we'll do this at our campsite. Better seating." After a moment's hesitation his group followed him and only then did Blackburn start after them. Their group followed slowly, more than one keeping an eye out for additional members of this group.
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Being back in Neverwinter was doing a number on her. When she had left the city had been thriving. Its population had boomed larger than ever before and with the constant influx of trade and the immigrants that came with it. Given a few more decades it might have been able to rival cities like Waterdeep or Baldur's Gate in wealth and population. Its temples were beautiful, its streets full of life, and its trade fleet the envy of nations far larger.
It had been a golden age.
Walking through the broken-down remains of that age was like a knife to her gut. Seeing the broken homes.
The crumbling streets.
The lifeless squares.
The Blacklake.
The Castle.
Again and again, that knife was jammed into her and twisted. It left her with questions. What could she have done differently? Preventing whatever could do this sort of damage was… Well, believing that she could have done anything was arrogance in the extreme, but in the wake of it?
She should have returned sooner.
Sitting around a campfire in what had been the stable of her own home, sharing conversation with a group of raggedly dressed young men and women was…
She had climbed the broken tower over there once. Her mother had been so angry when the guards finally managed to rescue her from the ledge halfway up. And the stables, she remembered the horses they had kept.
Nodoka took a long drink from her canteen and stifled both a sigh and the sniffles that followed. Hearing what had happened to the inside of the castle was no better.
"So, they say that there's a Beholder up in one of the towers," the young man, Kenneth Palemountain, he had named himself once they entered the canvas-covered stables, said, "By they I mean the adventurers who've tried to loot the place."
Because of course they had. Adventurers, as much a boon as a curse on a nation. She clenched her jaw and nearly jumped as her daughter placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I see. Independent or…?" Blackburn asked. He fiddled around with one of his pockets for a moment before pulling out a small brown cloth packet.
"Officially? Independent, but rumour on the streets says some of them worked for Neverember," he replied, poking the fire with a stick. The old wizard unfolded the packet to reveal slices of salted meat. He held it out to the young man.
"Here, a gift for your information," he said.
"Thank you," Kenneth said, accepting it graciously. He sniffed the meat. "Pork?"
"Boar actually," the old wizard corrected, "You know, Beholders are dangerous, but I find it surprising that a single one would be able to keep multiple adventurer's groups at bay for this long," Blackburn continued as he dug out some smoked jerky.
"Oh there's a lot more than just a Beholder in there," the drow said from where she was sitting on a crate near the back of the room.
"You mentioned ghosts?" Ranma asked. Nodoka glanced over at her son turned daughter. The younger redhead was frowning.
"Groups have run into ghosts wandering throughout the castle. Aerlyse back there managed to tick off a few last week," he said, gesturing back at the drow girl with a laugh. He refolded the packet of salted meat and set it down on a nearby crate.
"Kindly shut up," she growled, earning only another laugh from the well dressed young man.
"Ah, don't be like that Aery," he chuckled before sighing. "We've been testing ourselves against the things inside, but none of us have made it all that far. Name the threat and you can probably find it somewhere in the castle."
Nodoka shivered at the grim way the young man delivered the news. "Anything?" she asked worriedly.
"Nearly," he confirmed, "I've seen a few ettercap and even a harpy once in the grand stairwell. And none of us try to get to the throne room anymore. Not with the hall of mirrors the way it is."
Blackburn leaned forward. "What about the hall of mirrors?" he asked. The hall of mirrors was the hallway/lesson hall that connected the grand stairway to the throne room. Lined on either side by walls of mirrors and topped by beautiful stained glass windows it had been used to teach young members of the family how to hold themselves by showing how they looked on all sides. She hadn't… enjoyed those lessons, but the room had been a beautiful spectacle of light and colour that awed many. Herself included.
"If you look at it from the grand stairway it looks fine. Every glass pane has been shattered, but that's nothing unusual in the city. It's damned near impossible to find a glass pane from before the cataclysm," Ken said, "The trick is when someone living enters the room."
"Living specifically?" Mason asked.
"Ghosts float through the room all the time. Nothing happens," Aerlyse replied.
"But then someone like one of us steps through the door and everything goes to shit," the human girl grumbled, folding her arms.
"The room is stuck repeating the day of the cataclysm," Ken explained, "Complete with exploding glass and superheated gas."
"Superheated gas?" Ranma asked, "What was the cataclysm? No one explained that bit to us yet."
That brought the group of squatting swordsmen up short. "Really?" the drow girl asked.
"Pardon our ignorance, but we haven't been back to the city in… Almost thirty years now. We only walked through the Blacklake gate… an hour ago at most," Blackburn said, "And the only people we've spoken with are the guards, and given their less than courteous behaviour I felt it would be better to not linger."
"Smart. Neverember's mercenaries are a mixed bag. Mintarns worst and best," Aerlyse said.
"Ignoring the guards and their corruption," Ken said with a groan, "The Cataclysm occurred twenty-seven years ago. Mount Hotenow erupted in an explosion that destroyed most of the city and choked the life from the entire region."
Nodoka paled. Mount Hotenow had erupted? The volcano had been visible from her bedroom window and it had erupted within only a few years of her running away? If she had still been here she would have probably died as well. Shaking fingers gripped her robes. Had this been what the priest of Torm had meant when he spoke of her ascending to a throne of fire and ash?
Her throat was dry as she listened to the young man as he talked about how most of the population that was left had up and left after the eruption and how things had stayed mostly the same until the Open Lord of Waterdeep one…
"Dagult Neverember? So old Brand is dead then," Blackburn mused.
"Brand?" Ken asked.
"Brand Neverember was the father of Dagult if I recall," the wizard said. Nodoka remembered Dagult. A few years older than her he had been a boisterous, though not particularly handsome, young man with a tendency to get into scrapes alongside her brothers. Embarrassingly flirtatious at times and certainly a firebrand. During the couple of times he had stayed at Castle Never he had gotten in over his head more than once. As attested to by the broken nose he had headed home with the second time.
And now he was the Open Lord of Waterdeep. He had moved up in the world indeed. But what did this mean for his interest in her Family's city? What interests for Waterdeep had led him here?
"Well, he's the one responsible for the enclave across the river," Ken said, "Named himself Lord Protector and brought in a bunch of Mintarn mercenaries to keep order. He's done a decent enough job I suppose."
"If he's moved in to restore order, then why hasn't he sent more troops to take the castle back? It is an important landmark and it was the pride of the city at one point," Blackburn wondered.
"Supposedly he doesn't want to be King, and there's been discontent with his presence," Aerlyse said. She leaned forward with a smirk. "Some of the locals who never left have taken his interference to be imperialistic. They're worried he's going to annex the city for Waterdeep."
That… Nodoka could see where that came from. Waterdeep and Neverwinter had been allies for decades, centuries in fact, but with Neverwinter so deeply crippled after this cataclysm, it would almost be better for Waterdeep to just annex it and try to prop it up as a northern frontier to protect their own lands. From their perspective at least.
"Not likely. The Lords of Waterdeep have no cares for Cities other than their own," Blackburn muttered. That was also true. While Waterdeep did occasionally scuffle over territory with its neighbours, it cared more for its trade outposts than it did for territorial holdings.
"There are firsts for everything," Aerlyse replied.
"True," he acknowledged. He glanced out the doors and sighed. "And the sun is starting to sink low. I thank you all for the information, you've given me plenty to think about over the next few days." He pulled a purse from a pocket and tossed a half dozen gold coins to Kenneth. "For your troubles, along with the meat."
Kenneth bounced the coins in his palm and smiled at the jingle they made. "Ah, no trouble at all Mr. Brucklebuck. The pleasure was ours. Enjoy your time in the City," he said, tossing a coin to each of his companions who nodded graciously, except for Aerlyse who started rolling it between her knuckles.
Blackburn stood up and the rest of their group followed in a clatter of steel and leather. "Now, my knowledge of the city is a bit rusty for obvious reasons. Are there any good Inns leftover from the old days?" he asked, toying with another gold coin.
"There's a couple here an' there," the other young man said, "You've got the Moonstone Mask. A bit pricey, but a good stay from what I've heard. The Driftwood Tavern is still open around the corner. Or, you could head out to the North Harbour. There's a few good ones out that way. The beached leviathan's a good place if you don't mind being overheard. Excellent ale, but the proprietor is in Neverember's pocket."
"The Driftwood Tavern is still up and running? Who's in charge these days?" Blackburn asked curiously.
"Uuuh… Madam Rosene I believe," the young man said.
"Rosene? Well, I think we have our destination for the evening then," Blackburn smiled, counting out another half dozen coins which he passed to Kenneth. The swordsman smiled and tipped his hat before passing them out.
"Have a good evening then gentlemen, ladies," he smiled.
With that Blackburn led them out of the stables and back out of the castle courtyard. The old wizard kept quiet until they were well on their way down the ramp.
"Dagult? And as the Open Lord? Hrmph, the boy has gotten ambitious," Blackburn grumbled as they came to a stop out of hearing range of the castle and the guards by the bridges.
"You mean powerful," Nodoka said. She stopped beside him and looked out across the river. The fresh stone construction of this Protector's Enclave stood out prominently compared to the rundown state of Blacklake. The Docks had once been the slums of Neverwinter, now it seemed that the roles had been reversed.
"That as well," Blackburn agreed.
"So an Open Lord is important?" Ranma asked.
"Waterdeep is the largest city in Faerȗn," her old mentor explained, "It is among only a handful whose population exceeds a million souls. It is ruled by a council of lords whose numbers and identities are kept secret through arcane artifacts that prevent identification. All except one, the Open Lord who is selected by the Masked Lords. They are the face of Waterdeep and its nominal leader. If Dagult has managed to attain the rank of Open Lord then he is now a man with few peers, even among Kings."
Ranma frowned and nodded, clearly thinking. Behind her, Nodoka spotted Nabiki shooting a frown across the river.
"Dagult may be easier to handle than his father," Nodoka said, thinking aloud.
"Or harder. He has a history with you," her mentor replied, running a hand through his beard.
"You make it sound as though we were anything more than acquaintances. He is a distant cousin, and he was Brandon's friend. We had little to do with each other," Nodoka said, waving off his concerns.
"And yet, you've barely changed after all these years. He will recognize you as I did. Red hair is not that common," he replied.
"Perhaps, perhaps…" she sighed, "Why don't we go find that Inn they mentioned? We can find a room and discuss things properly."
"This isn't the place for these discussions," Blackburn agreed. He looked around the are and gestured towards the city wall. "There, where the wall stops just before the river… I do believe there used to be a gate and tower there."
Nodoka followed his finger and grimaced at the open path that circumvented the wall. There were always issues when it came to securing riversides, but the cataclysm or time had clearly claimed the gatehouse that had once allowed access to the Northern Docks. Only a few stacks of broken stone bricks lay to either side of the guarded road that had taken the place of the fortifications.
"There was," she agreed with a grimace. Neverwinter was never an impenetrable fortress, it was a trade city first and foremost after all, but the more she saw of the state of its defences the worse her worries piled on.
"More damage," Formond grumbled, the dwarf running a hand through his beard.
"There's always more," Malleth replied snarkily, "Now, let's find the Tavern and get something to eat."
"It should be…" Blackburn scanned the roads below, "ah, down that road over there." He pointed down the road that led past the castle and bridges and back into the Blacklake district along the wall of the City. "Come along. I'm looking forward to something warm to eat."
Their group hurried down the ramp to the street below. She just barely caught the bridge guards looking over in their direction. Their visit was undoubtedly going to be reported up the chain of command. There couldn't be so many people going up to the castle these days that a group as large as theirs wouldn't be reported to Dagult. The question was whether or not he would have enough information to realize she was in town. Perhaps, just perhaps, her old mentor had been right. Visiting the castle had been a reckless move.
Walking through the much-reduced crowds of Neverwinter was a surreal experience. Guards on either side and her mentor marching ahead, it was almost like being thirteen again. Except for the broken castle, the worn and potholed streets, and the thin scattering of people. It felt like one of those bad dreams she had suffered after the hearing the priest give his prophecy when she was fourteen. Just with less blood and fire.
The road continued past the bridges and came around the castle before splitting in three. One street headed through the broken and missing gatehouse of the Northern Docks. Another followed the wall, and the last headed off into Blacklake. At the split where the road divided between the depths of Blacklake and the perimeter road along the wall a tall three-story building of stone stood.
Built to fit between the two streets, the front of the Driftwood Tavern was narrow, though the structure itself was deep, running as far along either street as three other buildings. Constructed entirely of stone, the facade of the building showed some signs of age, cracks and rough stone scattered across its face. Each window was set into decorative archways and the top floor even had panes of glass in its windows. Through location, scale, and comparative grandeur in a city as ruined as Neverwinter, it was clear that the Driftwood Tavern was more than just any old watering hole or shady pub.
Just looking at it brought back memories of sneaking out of the castle. Now if only she had had the sense to not sneak into the nearest pub and try to buy a drink.
"Ah, here we are," Blackburn said as he waved for them to stop before the Tavern. A few patrons were sitting on the small porch and the hum of conversation floated out of the wide-open windows. "Looks like its survived quite well."
"It's in the shadow of both the walls and the Castle Hill. It probably escaped the worst of the devastation," Formond observed.
"It's built of stone as well. Nice and solid, like the mansions we passed earlier," Malleth said.
"What matters is that it is here. Come, let's get ourselves some rooms," Blackburn said, leading the way into the building.
A few people looked up as they went up the steps and through the front door, but they immediately went back to their meals and conversation partners.
"Oooh," Ranma and Nabiki let out appreciating noises as they entered the Driftwood Tavern. The main room was well decorated in what would have been a rustic fashion back on Earth. Tables made from doors, probably pulled from ruins in the city, were scattered orderly around the deep room; and decorative panes of unbroken stained glass hung with carefully placed candles to cast a colourful atmosphere over the room. In the corner stood a familiar-looking statue of an elven woman holding a pot…
Was that from the candle street fountain? It had to be, she remembered that place quite well.
The walls were decorated with portraits and the crests of noble families from across the city. Decorative nicknacks sat upon shelves alongside old daggers, pieces of pottery, and other artifacts that must have been dug up from throughout the city.
"I'll be with you in a mo'," a stern-looking brunette woman called from behind the bar where she was filling mugs of ale from a large keg.
"Take your time, we can wait," Blackburn called back as he pulled back his hood. He leaned over. "That looks like Rosene. She's aged well."
"I wouldn't know. My father never would have let me come to a place like this," Nodoka replied.
"Like that stopped you," he snorted. Ranma gave him a looked before turning a raised eyebrow to her. Nodoka stifled a sigh. Oh, the questions her daughter was going to ask.
A few minutes passed before, having delivered the ale to an enthusiastic group of dwarves in the far corner, Rosene came over. "So, what can I do for you gentleman, ladies," she gave Nodoka and the rest a look over.
"Coming back after thirty years doesn't even warrant a hello?" Formond huffed, "Thought we left a better impression than that."
Rosene blinked and stared down at the mildly indignant dwarf. "Formond Thunderfist, by Torm is that you?" she asked astounded.
"Alive and eager for a good mug of ale if you still have it, Madame," he boasted, "Surely you recognize my companions?"
Rosene's eyes went wider with what Nodoka took to be disbelief. "By the gods themselves, I'd thought you all died years ago," her whisper barely carrying to the Princess. The Innkeeper reached out and ran a hesitant hand along Blackburn's cheek. "Is that you Kazale?" she asked softly.
He took hold of her wrist gently. "I've not aged that much have I?" he asked with a smile.
"More than she has," Malleth snarked, getting a stern look from the older woman.
"I see your tongue hasn't lost its edge yet, Malleth Everflight," she said with a shake of her head. "Lady Mason, a pleasure." she nodded to the Paladin. Her eyes swept from the armoured members of their group and passed over Ranma and Nabiki with mild curiosity and even a touch of recognition before coming onto Nodoka herself.
The middle-aged Innkeeper froze as her eyes met Nodokas before glancing down at Ranma and back up again. "I-"
"Could offer us rooms for the night, yes," Blackburn said smoothly, patting the back of her hand as he cut her off. "A private room to eat and talk would be appreciated as well."
Rosene cast a surreptitious glance about the room before leaning in. "The discretion of the Driftwood Tavern is at your disposal you reckless fool. Honestly. Give a lady some warning next time you-" she huffed, "This way please." She turned on her heel and strode swiftly towards the hallway leading deeper into the building.
"Gaunt, Moonlighter, I'm taking this lot to a private room. Take care of the main hall," she barked to her employees. She opened a door behind the kitchen and ushered them through and down the stairs. She slipped past them and unlocked the door at the bottom of the stairs.
"This should be more than sufficient to meet your needs Kazale, Princess," she said bowing as she opened the door.
"So you recognized me," Nodoka said as she followed Blackburn into the next room.
"I do, Your Highness," the Innkeeper replied as she stepped aside. The room beyond was nearly the size of the main level with a floor of cracked stone tiles, wooden pillars, a line of boxes along the back wall, and several large tables. One of which was occupied by a grey-haired middle-aged man who stood up as they entered the room.
"Dear, who are they?" he asked, one hand reaching behind his back.
"Peace, husband, peace," Rosene waved him down, "Allow me to introduce Kazale Blackburn, Formond Thunderfist, Lady Emma Mason, and Malleth Everflight."
The man started. "Kazale and- Gods above, I thought you had died," the man roared, laughing as he threw his arms up.
"Conner Butterbeer!" Formond shouted in recognition, "I almost didn't recognize you." The dwarf met the older man halfway and the two shook hands. "You've gotten old boy."
"Most of us have," Rosene's husband replied. "I'm guessing that you heard of the city and decided to come back?"
"We only found out about the city today, Conner," Kazale said, stepping aside to give Conner a clear view. The middle-aged man's eyes went wide and immediately dropped to one knee.
"By Torm's graces, Princess. I- You've returned," he swallowed nervously as he stared at the floor.
"You can rise, Conner Butterbeer," Nodoka said with a wave of one hand.
"Shall I bring food down?" Rosene asked, "On the house of course Your Majesty."
"I would advise against it," Nodoka sighed, shooting her daughter a warning look as she caught the eager gleam in her eyes. "My daughter eats enough for ten at times." Ranma flushed and crossed her arms with a huff.
"It's a perfectly normal amount," the younger redhead grumbled.
"Elsewhere perhaps," she replied with a shake of her head before taking her daughter by the shoulder and steering her towards a table. "Food would be a lovely idea, Madame Rosene. As would news. I'm afraid we know very little about the circumstances in the city right now."
Rosene bowed low. "We are at the crown's service. Conner if you wouldn't mind?"
"I'll fill them in," he promised as the rest of the group started taking seats at the round table Nodoka had picked.
"Thank you. We've got roast lamb and beef stew tonight. Do you have a preference, Your Highness?" Rosene asked.
"Either is fine for me. Ranma?" Nodoka prodded.
"Both?" Ranma asked, smirking as Nodoka sighed. There were times she had to despair at the appetite Ranma had inherited from Genma. Or perhaps it was the cost of using Ki. She was poorly versed in its use, so perhaps… Now that she had magic again perhaps she could try and study it when she had the chance. Which would probably be after they were done dealing with the curse.
"I can do both," Rosene said with a smile, "Everyone else?" Once she had the orders she headed back upstairs. Her husband took a chair across the table from Nodoka.
"I-" he swallowed, tears appearing in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Your Highness. We… I- No one thought you were still alive or going to return... This-" he shook his head.
"We understand, Conner," Blackburn said, leaning forward. "Until recently we had almost resigned ourselves to the fact that our quest was impossible."
"And I am thankful for your dedication Kazale," Conner said with a watery smile, "To have an Alagondar, a proper Alagondar, back is… It is a dream come true for so many in the city."
Nodoka shifted awkwardly in her seat. She had left to avoid a prophecy, and yet… "I ran off Mr. Butterbeer. I only returned to introduce my daughter Ranma to her cousins and grandfather," she admitted.
"And at the prodding of a rather annoyed Wizard," Blackburn added as he started packing tobacco into his pipe.
"That as well," Nodoka continued, sending her old mentor an annoyed glance. He snorted as he lit the pipe and took a puff.
He breathed out a ring of smoke that floated away across the room. "So, how bad have things gotten? What sort of man has Dagult Neverember become over the last thirty years?" He asked his old friend.
Conner leaned forward against the table, lips pursed in a frown. "Before I begin," he started, "allow me to welcome all of you back, you especially Princess, and allow me to welcome all of you to the meeting hall of the Sons of Alagondar."
Sons of Alagondar? Nodoka frowned. Beside her, Ranma shifted in her seat, sitting straight with her attention on Conner. "Explain," she requested sharply, one hand hovering over a pouch at her waist.
The middle-aged man sighed. "It began shortly after Dagult Neverember proclaimed himself Lord Protector of Neverwinter. He claimed relation to Vers Never a-"
"Bastard son of Lord Nasher Alagondar," cut in Blackburn, "It was a known fact thirty years ago. The Neverembers are cousins, distant in blood, but they were of good relations with House Alagondar."
"He- Then he wasn't lying about that…" Conner muttered.
"Why would he lie?" Nodoka asked.
"It's just…" the middle-aged man frowned before sighing. "The Lord Protector is not well-liked by most of those who stayed behind when the city emptied following the cataclysm, Your Highness. He waited so long before coming in and… His mercenaries are often unforgiving and harsh in enforcing his decrees."
"Mercenaries often are," Formond grumbled.
"It is their nature," Malleth agreed.
Conner ignored them. "Neverember came in and started making changes like we hadn't spent the last several decades hanging onto what little sliver of Neverwinter we could by the thinnest sliver of-" he cut himself off as his voice started spiking and he took a deep breath. "My… My apologies, Your Grace. I- He started talking about what he calls 'New Neverwinter'. He's pushed out locals and installed his own agents. He pushed out most of the garrison on the wall and replaced them with his mercenaries. His tolls and decrees restrict the movement of everyone who isn't one of his thugs and any protest, peaceful or violent, is suppressed with equal brutality."
Nodoka glanced to her side where Ranma was frowning. "Is this the facts, or the opinions of your group Mr. Butterbeer?" she asked pointedly.
"Both, I'm afraid." Everyone looked up as Rosene entered the room. She was shaking her head as she brought a platter of mugs, tankards, three goblets, and a pitcher of wine. "My husband tends to be more passionate than myself," she said as she handed out the drinks.
"Given the state of the city, I would have thought outside interest would be a good thing," Nabiki said as she accepted her goblet of wine.
"It has been good in many ways, yes," Rosene agreed, "the increased trade has made life easier for us and many others. But the Sons were formed because of worries about things other than prosperity. Not long after his arrival the Lord Protector began sidelining locals. It began the very week he arrived with the appointment of Soman Galt to Mayor."
"Four days," Conner said, "that's all the time he took before he made Galt the Mayor."
"Galt?" Formond mused, "I recognize that name…"
"He was a minor functionary before the Cataclysm," Rosene said, "he departed for Waterdeep shortly afterwards and returned with Neverember."
"That hardly seems an approach that would endear the population towards him," Mason said, leaning over her tankard.
"It hasn't. At least, not those of us who never left," Conner said, "He's been pushing native Neverwinters out of their positions and appointing his puppets to positions throughout the city. A lot of us are worried that he's setting the city up to be annexed by Waterdeep."
That was a definite possibility, Nodoka had to admit. If Dagult had become the Open Lord of Waterdeep then his priorities lay with the City of Splendors, not the people of Neverwinter. Of course, that didn't mean he would necessarily oppose her if she made… herself known…
Nodoka leaned back in her chair as the Adventurers and Sons continued to debate. She had come to Neverwinter to visit her family. She had come to see her brothers and sister. To visit her father, or visit his grave. Taking the Crown for herself had never been in the cards. She had a husband and a family back…
She frowned and sipped her wine. It was a fine vintage if a bit drier than she preferred. She looked over at Ranma who was watching the conversation about the events of the past and the possible motives of Dagult with avid attention. She had a husband, but she also had a son, even if that son was now a daughter. Her son... daughter was here and it had been a long time since she had had a husband her mother would have been happy to see her with.
Not that Genma would have ever met her mother's standards, but then she hadn't been looking for a King, she'd been looking for love. She had loved Genma, in fact she still did. The fires may have burned low, but she still loved him. And yet, when was the last time he had acted like her husband? Her honeymoon? The wedding?
The wine burned her throat as she drained the goblet in a single go. As she lowered the goblet Mason raised an eyebrow. She waved the Paladin off. She didn't need spiritual advice quite yet. It was getting there though.
Genma was not someone she would ever trust with Neverwinter, but then he couldn't even come to Faerȗn without turning into a panda. Did they even still count as married anymore? Probably, the gods were like that. The point, however, was that she and Genma hadn't been a family in quite some time and while they had lived together again these past few months the fire that had once burned was… well, it wasn't what it was, was it? He hadn't grown fat, thankfully, but it was like any of the courage that he had once demonstrated had become a fleeting ghost that only returned when he was feeling particularly active.
No, Ranma was her family and she was right here. The engagements with Akane and the rest were an issue to be sure, but… Perhaps this was the sort of question she could ask Ranma.
Neverwinter was her family's home, and it was her duty to pick up the Crown and sit upon the Throne now that it was empty. The City was her duty, and honour demanded that she do everything she could to fulfill it. But…
But…
But…
But…
There weren't really any buts left, were there? Just Genma and Ranma. Her duty was clear, and that meant that Ranma was also…
She sighed, drawing eyes.
"Your Highness?" Madame Rosene asked.
Nodoka frowned down at her goblet. "I think, that I've had enough grim news for the moment," she said, "It has been a long day and I think we can pick this sort of thing up in the morning. After, we spend some time exploring the city properly." She needed to see more. The Protector's Enclave, the rest of Blacklake… possibly even the chasm they saw through in the south-east.
"I'll head up and see if the food is ready, if it pleases you, Your Highness?" Rosene asked.
"It would," she said with a smile, waving the older woman on her way. The conversation tilted away from politics to local gossip, equally as informative in its own way, until the food arrived. The lamb was amazing.
-0-0-0-0-0-
The cool evening breeze ruffled Ranma's hair as she leaned out the window overlooking the street nearest the castle from the second-floor room they had rented. The Innkeeper Rosene had tried to insist on them taking it for free, but Ranma's mother had refused on the grounds of keeping up appearances. Being led to a private room would have drawn attention enough already. Not paying could have drawn more.
Personally, Ranma figured her mother just didn't want to burden the Innkeeper with their stay.
The sun was setting, plunging the streets into darkness even as the last rays of sunlight that slipped over the walls reflected off the broken stone of the castle. It cast the massive structure in shades of gold and orange that blazed in the darkening sky. It was a sight to behold and made Ranma wonder just what the castle had looked like before the cataclysm.
"It used to be more impressive."
Ranma looked over her shoulder at her mother who was sitting by the fireplace of the room they were sharing in an armchair. Her spellbook was sitting open in her lap.
"It's still impressive," she replied, "I don't think castle's back on Earth get so large."
Nodoka shook her head. "They don't. Castle Never includes substantial amounts of magic in its construction. Otherwise, it wouldn't be possible with the materials used."
"Hmm…" Ranma hummed as she looked back out at the street. The crowds, already thin, had faded and only a few people remained. All of them were moving quickly as though they didn't want to stay out at night. Not too surprising. There had been a complete lack of street lamps, which meant plenty of shadows for would-be thieves and muggers to hide in. And a city with so much wrong with it like Neverwinter? It would have a lot of both. Destruction bred desperation, and most of Neverwinter was destroyed.
"I'm going out for a walk," Ranma said, turning away from the window.
"It's getting dark," her mother said warningly, frowning as Ranma pulled a coat out of her bag that was leaning against the end of her bed.
"Which means I'll be able to hop across the rooftops soon," Ranma replied, "If we're staying here I want to get a feel for the city." And see what came out after dark. You could tell a lot about a city from the state of its nightlife.
Nodoka sighed. "I'd ask you to take one of the guards, but they wouldn't be able to keep up with you, would they?" she asked, getting a grin in reply.
"I'll be fine," Ranma said as she flipped her braid back over her shoulder. A flick of her wrist produced a staff from her ki pocket. She tapped it against the floor. "I'll even keep a weapon on hand."
Her mother grumbled, but smiled anyway as she shook her head. "Very well. Just don't stay out too late, and don't leave Blacklake. In fact, avoid the Enclave entirely. I don't want to deal with Dagult until we have a better idea of how he'll react."
"I'll stay out of the Enclave," she replied, slipping her staff back into her ki pocket. She probably wouldn't need it. Not unless there was a lot more wrong with Neverwinter at night then she could imagine.
"And go out the front door. It's not dark enough yet for you to be climbing out of windows," her mother added.
'Sure."
"And let the guards know on your way out."
"I will. Bye mother," she said, waving as she opened the door.
"Stay safe, and don't stay out too long,"
"I will." The door cut off any further admonishments. Honestly, there were times it felt like her mother had forgotten she knew how to look after herself.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Balancing on the top of a dilapidated and unused chimney provided a decent view of the city in the thin moonlight. Even if it was crumbling a bit from her weight. The streets of Blacklake were proving to be something of a maze. Whether designed like that on purpose, or the consequence of centuries of natural development she couldn't say, but it made making a mental map of the district a challenge. Even when she was able to jump from rooftop to rooftop.
She had started on the streets, earning a few odd looks for the way she was dressed. Modern earth coats were apparently rather conspicuous. One of those it should have been obvious, things.
Once the shadows darkened enough, and the people thinned out, she'd jumped to the rooftops. On one hand, it had made traversing the maze of streets much quicker, on the other not many of the buildings were really in good enough condition to walk on. Case in point: the hole five feet from her where she'd plunged into a musky rotting room. Thankfully unoccupied, though what would want to live there she really had to wonder.
This incident had been better than the manor four streets behind her. The roof had dropped her into a room full of rusting swords and suits of armour, a half dozen of the weapons had promptly come to life and tried to impale her. Breaking them had been enough to render them harmless, but not before she'd lost a couple of hairs. She'd made sure to reduce the short sword responsible into as tiny pieces as she could manage.
Committing the layout of the streets around her to memory, she hopped off the chimney and landed lightly on the crossbeam she knew was stable. She jumped to the next roof in a single bound.
A few minutes later she came to a halt on the roof of a house along a barricaded road. This wasn't the first road that was barricaded. All of the ones she had encountered so far were pointed east. At a guess, they were probably the eastern border of Blacklake. Unlike the other roads, this one lacked people manning the barricade. Odd.
She hopped down. The houses around the area were rundown and empty. Clearly this area wasn't populated at the moment. There was a gap in the barricade and a sign… Which she couldn't read. Wonderful. She'd actually managed to forget that she couldn't read or speak the local language thanks to the amulet she was wearing. At a guess, she would have bet that the sign was either a warning about danger or denoting the end of safe territory. Either way, where were the guards? In a city with Orcs and possibly worse you didn't leave the walls unguarded.
A look around turned up nothing. No bodies, no abandoned equipment, nothing. It was possible that there had never been guards, but in that case the wall shouldn't have had a gap in it to begin with.
"BASTARDS!" A cry followed by a shout of pain from behind her caused her to snap around with a frown. Light flashed from around the corner of the road back the way she had come. A second scream of pain caused her to break into a run, bounding to the rooftops in a direct line towards the source of the screaming. Moments later saw her standing on the edge of a roof looking down on a bloody scene.
Poor lighting was no issue. A young woman with black hair and bronze skin in white robes was brandishing a glowing sword with her back to a stone wall. Her other hand was glowing as she held it against her side. Blood appeared to be spreading through the white fabric. The light from the sword washed over the entire street pushing back the darkness and giving Ranma a clear view of her attackers.
There were a half dozen large bulky orcs encircling her warily. Two more of their number were on the ground, only one of them was still moving. One of them lunged at her with a spear. The young woman hastily deflected the stab and abandoned her injury as she punched the orc in the face. It reeled away as a pair of orcs leapt towards her.
"OGHMA, GRANT ME AID!" she shouted and Ranma stared as a translucent mace appeared by her side, floating in mid-air. It caught the axe of one orc as she locked blades with the other. The one she had punched shook its head and went to lunge again. That was when Ranma decided she had watched enough.
"Enough of that." The orc didn't have time to react as she landed on its head, her foot catching its neck as she rode the body to the ground. She winced at the wet snap of its neck. Even as the combatants were turning to look at her she flipped off the body and kicked the next orc in the circle in the chest. It flew down the street and rolled to a stop, unmoving.
The next orc in line screamed a warcry and swung its axe at her. She sidestepped the overhead chop and snapped the wrist holding the weapon before tossing it into the orc into a crumbling stone wall. The orc disappeared into the black depths of the house.
The woman took advantage of her opponent's distraction and cut the orcs head straight off even as her spectral mace caved in the orc's head. The last orc promptly dropped his weapon and booked it down the street. Right in the direction of the barricade. Ranma let it go. She wasn't here for it.
"Hey, you alright?" she asked as the woman slumped against the wall. Her spectral mace disappeared with a flicker.
"I'm fine," she said with a grimace as she applied a newly glowing hand to her side, "Just- a slash from when the bastards jumped me. Thanks by the way. That was getting a bit too hairy for me."
"No problem. Do you need a hand?" Ranma asked as the woman pulled herself upright.
She waved her off. "Nothing to worry about, like I said," she said, removing a hand from her side with a sigh. "There we go. All better."
Ranma blinked. "Magic?" she asked.
"A gift from Oghma," she replied with a smile. She extended a hand. "Abigail Candlerow, Cleric of Oghma at your service."
Ranma shook it. "Ranma Saotome, martial artist," she replied with her own smile.
"Martial artist? So that's why it started raining people. I didn't think that was normal around here," Abigail said with a grin and a wave at the bodies on the floor.
"I wouldn't know. I'm not from around here," she replied with a shrug.
"Well, thank you for your help. That was…" the older woman sighed, "I lost track of time. These bastards wouldn't have dared try if I'd been through here during daylight."
"That last one looked like he was headed for the barricade over there. The empty one," Ranma jabbed a thumb in the direction of the barricade.
"The- bastards. Lazy Mintarn-" Abigail grit her teeth and let out an explosive sigh. "Sorry, I'd heard rumours that they didn't man ever barricade at night, but I didn't want to believe it."
Ranma grimaced. "Well, they didn't tonight." And the why was a question she would have liked answered properly. Did they lack the people to take care of everything?
The cleric looked around again and sighed. "We may want to get out of here though before that bastard comes back with reinforcements. Without anyone on that gate, this area is too dangerous to stay in."
"Where are you headed?" Ranma asked.
"This way for now," Abigail said, walking down the street towards the bridges. "The House of Knowledge ultimately. A bit of a walk, but I'll be fine."
Ranma followed her. "Where is that?" she asked. The cleric gave her an amused glance.
"By the wall," she replied and giggled at the blank look Ranma sent her way. "You really aren't from around here, are you?"
"That's what I said," she sighed as Abigail giggled.
"I see, I see," she nodded wisely, "And what would someone new be doing climbing around on the roofs, hmm?" She lifted her sword so that the light coming from it was carried behind her as she glanced backwards. Ranma mimicked her. The street was empty and the last of the bodies were disappearing around the corner. Her stomach churned a little at the thought. She hadn't meant to kill the first one, and she was fairly sure the rest weren't going to survive much longer either if they hadn't died to her strikes. Orcs were fragile it seemed.
"Exploring," she said, turning away from the sight behind them. At the raised eyebrow she received she elaborated, "You can get a better view from up there, plus you can go straight and avoid this rat maze."
Abigail looked up, glanced left then right, and looked back at Ranma. "What?" the redhead asked.
"... Either you're a bold-faced liar or the most athletic person I've ever heard of," Abigail deadpanned.
Ranma scoffed. Why did everyone seem to think that jumping a forty-foot gap was impressive? It was basic. "I'm a martial artist. This is nothing," she said.
"Oh really?" Her conversation partner asked as they turned a corner. They passed a house with a light in its upper windows.
Ranma nodded. Abigail hummed. "Interesting. I'd love to ask you a few questions about that if you don't mind?"
She shrugged. "Where's the House of Knowledge again?"
"Oh, in the east end of the Protector's Enclave, on the north-end of the wall." The enclave… Where her mother didn't want her to go. Joy. Still...
"Why don't you walk me home and I'll answer some of your questions on the way as well?" the cleric offered as Ranma nibbled her lip in thought.
"Sounds good to me," Ranma said, folding her arms behind her head as they walked. Maybe her mother wouldn't be annoyed if she came back with information?
"So, martial artist, what is that exactly?" Abigail began as they walked. It was a very long walk, but she did get answers to a number of questions. Like what the wall she had been talking about was, and why it was needed. Some of the groups in the city and even about who Oghma was.
He was the God of Knowledge as it turned out. "He sent me here to restore his temple," Abigail said as they walked through the streets of the Protector's Enclave. The roads were nicely paved and the houses and shops were universally in good condition, though a few were still showing patched roofs.
"Sent you?" Ranma asked curiously. That was twice now that someone she had spoken to had said that their gods spoke to them.
"I was sent dreams," the cleric replied, "His light burned away my nightmares and showed me a vast library. I spent nights running through the stacks, never finding the ends of the and all the while I heard the distinctive workings of a waterclock the entire time."
"And that brought you… here?" Ranma asked, disbelieving. What did a waterclock even sound like? The cleric shrugged.
"Neverwinter was once famous for its waterclocks. Their accuracy and precision was so great that people used to swear 'By the Clocks of Neverwinter'. I came to the conclusion that it had to be in Neverwinter that I was needed," Abigail said with conviction.
What was it with people around here and their faith in gods?
"And here we are," the cleric said as they turned the corner and they entered a square before a tall six and a half story stone temple. Statues of men in robes who were holding scrolls stood to either side of the main entrance, each one at least twenty feet tall. Bisecting the eastern side of the square, and continuing past the temple, was a tall wall along which torch-carrying mercenaries patrolled.
"That's a big temple," Ranma said.
"You haven't seen the Hall of Justice yet, have you?" Abigail chuckled, "But yes, The House of Knowledge is the second-largest temple in the city and my current residence."
"Just you?" Ranma asked. The older young woman shook her head.
"No. There are refugees who have taken on some of the maintenance duties. I've preached to them once or twice over the last few months, but few seem interested in becoming priests," Abigail sighed, "For now it's just me, though…"
"Though?"
She shrugged, "There are rumours that someone is living down in the lower levels, but I haven't had time to investigate and everyone else who heads down hasn't come back…"
"Excuse me?" Hadn't come back? "And you live in this place?" she asked aghast.
"There are traps protecting the lower vaults, and we have seen a few from the steps," Abigail sighed, "We're safe upstairs. So don't worry about it. Anyway, this is where we part ways Ranma, it's been a fun evening. Thank you for your help earlier."
Ranma grinned. "No problem." The conversation had been nice, and the information was probably worth the walk through Protector's Enclave.
"So, if I needed to contact you again for some reason, where would I go?" she asked.
Ranma tilted her head as she thought. "Ask Madame Rosene at the Driftwood Tavern," she said after a moment.
"Foreign, and apparently moderately off," Abigail observed with a grin, "The Driftwood is expensive."
"We're… friends," she deflected.
"Uhuh, well enjoy the walk back Ranma, good night," Abigail said, heading for the temple.
"Good night," Ranma replied with a little wave before turning and hopping up to the rooftop of a nearby building. She turned and looked back and caught Abigail staring up at her. She grinned and waved again before bounding off across the rooftops.
Five minutes later she crossed the river with a single jump and landed lightly in the shadows. She waited a moment before walking the rest of the way to the Driftwood Tavern. They didn't seem to notice her.
The Tavern was down to its last few patrons as she entered.
"Have a good walk Ranma?" Madame Rosene asked as she headed for the stairs.
"It was refreshing," she called back, prompting one passed out man in the corner to slide off his table and out of his seat. He hit the ground with a thump and kept snoring without a break. Madame Rosene sighed and set her mug down.
"Every week Earl," she muttered loud enough for Ranma to hear as she hurried up the stairs. Formond nodded at her from where he was sitting in the corner of the second-floor landing on a cushion.
"Welcome back Lass," he greeted, "Your mother was about to get worried."
Ranma winced. "Oh. Well, good night Formond," she said, waving to him as she popped open the door of the room she was sharing with her mother. They had four rooms. Nabiki and Mason were sharing, as were Formond and Malleth. In order to keep up their cover, Blackburn had taken the largest room for himself.
Her mother looked up as the door opened. She smiled in relief as Ranma shut the door. "You're back. I was getting worried," she said.
"I wound up walking someone home after a few orcs jumped them," Ranma said, taking off her coat.
"Orcs?" Nodoka scowled, "Where was this?"
"On the eastside of Blacklake. They have barricades up, but one of them was unmanned for some reason tonight," she replied as she sat down on her bed.
"So you saved them and walked them home?"
"Yep," Ranma yawned and fell back on the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. It wasn't often she slept on a western-style bed, though it seemed the norm around here.
"Good. Where were they from?" her mother asked.
"The House of Knowledge," Ranma replied, before going still in realization.
"... The House of Knowledge which is on the other side of the river?" Her mother asked dangerously.
"... Yes?" She had made a mistake.
"In the Protector's Enclave?"
"Yes...?" She was doomed.
Her mother closed her spellbook and stood up. "I think we need to have a little talk about restrictions."
This was going to take some time to explain. A glance at her mother's face had her amend that thought. A lot of time, and some really fast-talking.
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A/N: And Done~ Chapter Three of Crown of Neverwinter. Whoo~ Over 14k words~ *Happy Kitsune*
Hope everyone enjoys it~ I quite enjoyed writing this chapter. If anyone is curious, and hasn't picked up on the time period this is set in, the year is 1479 DR. The month is April. Yes, that means I'm using the 4th edition sourcebook for Neverwinter. Anyone familiar with that book should know what kind of chaos is lurking beneath the surface~
Discord and Patreon links in the signature, and thank you to my patrons~ I'll see about getting some art put together of the OCs like Blackburn and others. Perhaps a poll to decide which one? Hrm… *Thinking Kitsune* Would need a good artist, though I can name a few who would work. Food for thought I guess~
