As they made their way into the forest, the wind whispered through the branches of the trees, making an ethereal sound that seemed to echo all of the beings they had witnessed through the centuries. The High Forest had once been home to the Sun Elves but they had long since moved on to their eternal home across the sea. Now a group of wood elves inhabited the forest, trying to reclaim it and rid it of all the evil creatures that had taken hold. Outsiders generally were not met with open arms, Taman explained, so it was best to be wary of any potential encounters. It was a five-day journey through the forest and they must be on their guard. Naivara asked if she, as a wood elf, had a chance of being treated with less hostility than the others. Taman said perhaps, but only just, and it was best not to rely on that for protection in the forest.
“It seems that you know quite a bit about these woods, Taman. Have you made this journey before?” Naivara asked.
“No, this is my first time as well,” he replied, brushing a low-hanging branch out of his way as they walked. “I am on this journey to make my oath to Bahamut. It is a test of mettle to get there, and only the truly devout can accomplish this task. The exact location of the temple is unknown, and one must prove his worth before it will reveal itself. Many have sought it and died in the attempt; Bahamut must judge you well to consider you worthy,” he added. “I have been traveling for quite some time. Home is the town of Luskan on the Sword Coast, known for the pirates that frequent the town.”
Pressing on, he said, “These woods are full of danger. Orcs and gnolls roam freely and attack without warning.” Seeing the puzzled looks on their faces, he explained that a gnoll was a humanoid creature with the head of a hyena, merciless, with a taste for flesh of their victims. They nodded, understanding, and carried on. The first day passed uneventfully and they assigned watches as they made camp. The night passed much the same and they woke with relief that no creatures had found them in the night. An eerie silence followed them in the forest as they continued. Occasionally they would see a rabbit or squirrel pass through the brush, but nothing lingered in the open. Soon they would know why.
Naivara was the first to sense it. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and, a split second later, she heard shrill cries and large forms whooshing through the branches on their left flank. She barely had time to think “Gnolls!” before dodging an early blow. They were surrounded. As the creatures snarled and brandished their weapons, Taman bravely stepped forward and swung his sword hard, but to no avail. The gnoll nimbly dodged and made room for two others to attack Torvald, who stood ready with his icy greatsword. He parried their spear thrusts but one managed to strike, landing a glancing blow on his arm. Eyes alight with fury, Torvald swung his sword back around and cut deep into the shoulder of the one that hit with its spear. The creature roared in pain as ice crystals formed in the wound, but it still stood.
Good pupper?
From behind Torvald, Ember cast Firebolt in hopes that it would finish the gnoll off, but alas it did not. It pulled out a bow and fired an arrow which grazed past her leg. Taman remained locked in battle with another, crying out with effort as he struggled to finish it off. Naivara aimed her bow at the one that Torvald struck; her arrow found its mark in the gnoll’s belly and it crumpled to the ground. She dashed back into the bushes for cover so they could not return the favor.
They could see now that a party of six gnolls had attacked them. One fired his longbow at Taman but his armor was too strong for it to penetrate. Taman struck a crushing blow to one creature and it slumped forward, but amazingly it still held its spear, ready to tilt until the bitter end. Torvald was surrounded at this point and could not hope to escape unscathed; as he fought two others, a third gnoll jabbed its spear into his side beneath his arm. Torvald gave a shuddering cry and clutched his side, flailing his sword wildly, desperately trying to retaliate. The gnolls tried the same with Taman, striking between his plates of armor, but Taman was ready and managed to twist his body away before the spear could go as deep.
Naivara emerged from the brush and this time nocked a poison arrow into her bow. She aimed at the beast that had struck Torvald and let the arrow fly. It hit the gnoll’s upper leg and she could see the black poison pulse through its veins, but it appeared that it would take more than a poison arrow to bring it down for good. Cursing the gnolls, she hid again to make ready for her next attack. Taman raised his sword above his head with both arms and cleaved clean through the neck of one of the creatures; blood spurted as it fell frozen to the ground. Torvald took another blow and the party could tell he was growing weaker by the minute. But he surprised them all, summoning his strength to cast Burning Hands. A gout of flames burst forth from his fingers and the gnoll before him was engulfed in flames; it gave a piercing shriek and writhed on the ground, then lay still.
Ember cast Magic Missile and three glowing darts struck one of the beasts, which only seemed to anger it further. It rushed at Torvald and thrust its spear straight into his midsection before Torvald had a chance to block. They watched in horror as Torvald’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, still as death on the ground before them. Naivara’s fingers felt numb with shock as she fumbled to shoot another arrow from her bow; it missed and the gnoll smiled wickedly, ready to sink its teeth into Torvald’s flesh. Seeing this, Taman emitted a guttural yell and thrust his sword into the gnoll before him, but it was not enough to bring it down. Ember cast Witch Bolt and a blue streak of light crackled toward one of the remaining gnolls, but it moved at the last moment and avoided being hit. It managed to fire an arrow back at her and she recoiled as it struck her shoulder. Naivara steadied herself and shot an arrow at the gnoll standing over Torvald. So distracted by bloodlust, it had no time to dodge and the arrow lodged itself in the beast’s neck. The claw-like hands went to its throat, and it gurgled and then lay still.
Two gnolls remained. One was hurt and knew it stood little chance, which made it all the more savage. It threw its head back and laughed, then rushed at Taman with its spear. Taman was ready. He cut down the spear then turned and brought the sword down where the gnoll’s shoulder met its neck. It cried out in pain and its blood shone black in the light from the sword; it twitched a moment on the ground and breathed its last. Knowing that she must end the fight to get to Torvald, Ember deftly took a star from her robe and threw it at the final gnoll. Her aim was true - the star struck the gnoll between the eyes and it fell, landing with a soft thud on the forest floor.
Panting with effort but not wasting a moment, Taman whispered, “No,” and ran to where Torvald had fallen, dropping his sword and shield on the ground. Ember and Naivara followed and anxiously waited while Taman checked to see if Torvald lived. As he knelt he could see the blood that soaked the ground, and he knew that there was nothing to be done. Taman bent his head over Torvald’s face and heard his shallow breaths. Torvald’s lips moved in an effort to speak, but none could tell what he meant to say. Taman laid his hand on Torvald’s chest, head bent and eyes closed. They saw his hand rise and fall, slowly, with longer times passing between each breath. Finally, with a small shudder, the hand ceased to rise.
Torvald was dead. Ember laid her head down and wept on Torvald’s chest and Naivara knelt beside her. How could their friend, their companion, be truly gone?
After several moments, Navaira said that they would need to bury his body before more gnolls tracked his scent and found them here. They nodded and began to look through Torvald’s possessions so they could make use of what he no longer could. Ember took his book of poisons and Navaira shed tears as she realized that Torvald had carried a healing potion. What a waste of his life that he had not thought to take it when he was wounded. They kept his sword as well, unsure of who would be able to wield it as Torvald had. Taman shook his head and turned down the elves’ offer of Torvald’s gold, picking up a discarded gnoll’s shield to dig the grave instead.
It was midday by the time the grave was dug, and Torvald’s body lay next to it with gold pieces covering his eyes. They stood in silence for a time, delaying their final goodbyes. Taman said, “Torvald died protecting his friends. There is no greater sacrifice than this. We must remember him as he was, and fulfill our quest to honor his sacrifice.” The elves agreed and Taman bent down to place Torvald’s body in the grave.
“Wait!” Ember cried suddenly, and Taman stopped. “We have the gem! The one from Tunaster” she exclaimed.
Naivara gasped, “Of course! Use it, Ember. Bring back our friend.”
Ember took a deep breath before easily crushing the gem in her hand. It was easier than she expected she thought aa the dust settled in her palm. She opened her eyes and realized that everything was frozen, everything except her. Naivara and Taman stood unmoving. She looked around and saw a woman with long dark hair and robes of midnight blue in front of her. Ember knew somehow that this was the goddess Mystra.
The goddess spoke, “What can I do to help you?” Her voice seemed to float in the wind, a musical lilt containing the echoes of a thousand voices from ages past.
“Can you bring back our companion Torvald?” Ember asked.
Mystra paused to consider. “Torvald’s soul has moved on, claimed by another. Another, however, may take the vessel.” The Goddess closed her eyes for a moment in seeming concentration. After a brief moment she moved her arm gracefully in an arc above her head. “May it be so.”
Then, as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone. Naivara and Taman looked from Ember’s hand and the crushed gem to her face. “Well?” Naivara said.
Out of nowhere, Torvald’s body gasped and he sat straight up, the gold pieces from his eyes falling to the forest floor. Ember saw a beam of green light come from thin air and enter into his chest. It sprout as an ethereal plant was growing, then faded and Torvald turned to stare at them.
Taman said, “What is this? Wh... what just happened?” and backed away.
Ember replied, “Don’t worry. Our companion has returned to us, but he will not be the same as he was before.” Torvald grunted as he rose, brushing the dirt and leaves from his body. The party gathered their belongings and silently continued on their way. The sun faded and they made camp for the night. The man that was once Torvald lay down to sleep, and the rest of them wondered what kind of man would greet them come morning.
