NERA AQUILAE

HISTORY

Personality Traits: I am utterly serene, even in the face of disaster.
Ideal: If you know yourself, there's nothing left to know.
Bond: I entered seclusion because I loved someone I could have had, but did not.
Flaw: Now that I have returned to the world, I do not enjoy its delights.

Prologue

The wood elves of the Aquilae tribes live in the wilderness, far from the habitations of the human races and even those of the high elves. They live with the land, the beasts and the plants. They believe that Nature, called the Green, is the primeval force that brought all into existence. The Green will provide and take care of all those who will provide and tend to the Green. Untypically, due to the loss of her lover, she became a hermit and a recluse. She wandered the wildernesses for decades. Then she returned, determined to find his descendants, if any, and locate his last remains. She thought she had found a clue which indicated the loss of her lover may not have meant his death and followed through a portal. She became unconscious and upon awakening found herself enslaved in a gnoll mine with five other prisoners.

Additional information on Nera's background.

Chapter 1

She and the half-orc had once again been partnered for the work time. Moon or goon or some such he called himself. He was never talkative. There was no denying his strength. His pick slammed into the mine veins in such a manner that she knew that he was imagining it being slammed into one of their gnoll jailor's heads. She knew he was biding his time as was she, but he never approached her about co-operation. Not that it mattered to her; she would wait for her opportunity with or without him. He puzzled her though, as she had been taught the those of orcish blood could not resist ravaging elven females, yet her nakedness did not seem to affect him in the least. This was unlike the gnollish guards who seemed to salver on her at every opportunity pressed against her and passed their furred hand-like paws over her body. She allowed this as it meant no beatings but more importantly they treated her with more laxity and freedom of movement.

She had noticed that one of the gnoll guards, the one who pawed her the most roughly, was wearing her eagle hair necklace with the wood whistle. This was the one who was now guarding them, the one she was waiting for, in order to escape and recover her property.

Then the ground trembled. From the north and southern parts of the mine came screams of terror, shouts of pain and warnings in the gnoll bark language. Their gnoll guard was distracted by all these sounds. This was her chance!

Gripping her shovel as a club, she initiated her Green blessing to strengthen it. Then she rushed the gnoll. In her weakened state she could barely strike a glancing blow. Snarling, the gnoll raised its spear to stab through her. With no warning a snarling massive body rushed passed, smashing into the gnoll, knocking him back. Of course it was the half-orc. His pick bit into the gnoll causing it to let out a bray of anguish. The ground continued to shake with sounds of pain, of weapons clashing and gnolls screaming. Yet it managed to retreat and run down away from the louder sounds.

To Nera this gnoll was her only concern. It held that which was most dear to her. She chased after it. With her special elfin quickness, she quickly caught up and struck a blow to its head, staggering it. Then surprising her, the half-orc, Moon? Goon? had followed them. Shouting out in orcish, it struck the gnoll twice with its pick. The first blow into its back knocked it down bleeding out. The second strike through its head ended its misery.

It was then that another prisoner, the half-elf, Korit Solunn made his appearance, shouting "Umber hulks, everywhere, follow me now, immediately. Your lives will be forfeit otherwise." But she had to spend time recovery the necklace. "Go" she advised the half-orc. "There is nothing else to do." He stared as if judging her motive, grunted and started after Korit. Taking the time to carefully remove the necklace with a prayer of thanks to the Green, she raced after the half-orc.

Chapter 2

After a long rest, she and the other newly escaped slaves woke refreshed but hungry. As they discussed their next actions, she was able to correctly name them; Bruenor the dwarf, Korit the high elf, Vlad the human, the only other female, the half-elf Faeril and finally Moogoo the half-orc.

Bruenor had managed to collect some of his equipment during their escape. This included some trail rations which he kindly shared with the others. It also meant that it was necessary they returned to the mines to retrieve their equipment, food and water. Some of them were even eager to encounter a few gnoll guards.

The plan was for Korit to lead in stealth, searching ahead and on the lookout for gnolls. The rest would trail behind, far enough to not interfere but close enough to aid should the need arise. That was when she declared that she too would lead with Korit.

“But you are not stealthy enough and would be hard-pressed to keep up” he stated attempting to dissuade her. Oh, how ignorant they were in the blessings provided by the Green.

“I will go slower so that you can match my pace” was her response. Then she transformed. The look on their faces when there once stood a near-naked elf maiden, there was now a mastiff sized wolf spider.

Unable to speak, she clapped her pincer-like fangs and proceeded to climb up the wall and to the rock ceiling and then along it back to the mines. The others understood the message and continued with the plan.

They encountered four gnoll guards and a melee ensued. Below her Korit was engaged with one. Dropping onto its head, she bit down, piercing and injected her vemon into it. The gnoll screamed out and was soon dispatched. The others had engaged the remaining guards and were successful except that the human Vlad was close to death. Transforming back to her elf form, she cast a Healing Word upon him. Stabilized, he quickly recovered, and they entered the cave where their jailors had kept their equipment. All was recovered except for food and water. Vlad’s weapon was gone so she passed her scimitar to him. The gnolls had hide armor and so, despite its stink of gnoll, she took one to wear. Exploring they found no other exit and nothing of interest.

They retreated, passed their last resting place and continued to move uphill. As they continued, the air became warmer and warmer. Finally, the passage opened into a lava field. Streams of magma flowed between large pools of molten rock, forming islands of solid rock.

Across the way could be seen another passageway. She wild shaped into a wolf spider. She raced up the wall and across the ceiling to scout the new passage. Just as she reached it, there was a great commotion from her companions. Racing back, she finds all unconscious except for Faeril who informs her that they were attacked by two fire mephitis and a hell hound; then watches wide-eyed as she views a wolf spider administer to the others, using its legs each with three tarsal claws as arms and fingers. stabilizing them. Then she and Faeril carried the others back into the tunnel where they underwent a short rest.

Chapter 3

We had dragged the bodies further back from the lava flow cavern; me, Faeril and Moogoo. All the while, the half-orc had been staring at us as if we were not taking the recent events seriously enough. And for some inexplicable reason, he seemed disgusted by Faeril’s hair swaying. He keeps mumbling about his god testing him and how incompetent the others are.

To me, Faeril’s actions implied seriousness. For myself, this situation is most serious. I do not know where I am! I may not even be in the same world I was born in; after all, I did pass through a portal. Yes, most serious! At least the Green’s nature force still seems to function here.

Now we rest, each in our own thoughts. Bruenor, Vlad and Korit are beginning to regain consciousness. My natural medicine knowledge and my various herbal creams and draughts had stabilized them, eased the pain of their burns, allowed their flesh to begin healing. I have done the best with what I had. But for Vlad it may not be enough. He had been severely savaged, near death. He may require the Green’s blessing and so little of that remains to me. Still, these are my only companions, now, with a common goal, so I will aid him.

His dark eyes, so human, stare up at me. His dusky skin is severely burnt, most of his thick, black hair had been burned away. He opens his mouth to speak as I bend over him. I shake my head; a gesture , I know, to humans means ‘no, stop’. He complies. I place both hands on his chest and intone in the Old Tongue, an ancient verse of my Circle. The little Green left in me, is channeled, from my connection to it, through my hands, into Vlad, changing into a healing energy. The effects are immediate. Most of his hair is restored, his skin normalizes, his pallor becomes healthy.

“Thank you”, he mouths. I nod and move away. The other two had watched me do this; Faeril mystified, as if she cannot categorize my abilities; MooGoo with detachment.

A little time passes, enough that they have all recovered. They are now proposing plans on how to deal with the hellhound. Hellhound? Not a creature of the Green. But perhaps we are in its world, perhaps we are in a Hell.

I do not partake in the planning. It matters not to me what the decision is. Apparently Bruenor will invoke manifested servants to carry rope and distract the hellhound should it appear. Then it would involve the others in much leaping and jumping. I am vague on the details as I have no major role. I only wait as the plan unfolds.

The servants are sent out. All goes well until the first jump. Before that occurs, the hellhound emerges and does not seem to be distracted. The plan then changes as MooGoo shouts out in orc and leaps over the lava to engage the fiend. Perhaps MooGoo is demonstrating on how to take matters seriously.

Korit leaps over to another island, but a leg drags through the lava. Perhaps MooGoo is correct in their incompetence. He is quickly followed by Vlad, then we hear Korit shout ‘mephit!’ None of us can see exactly what is happening.

By now, Bruenor uses his wizardly ability to evoke magic missiles The monster howls in pain as they unerring strike. Faeril apparently also cast but its effect I do not notice as I wild shape into my favorite spider form. Climbing up the wall, I scamper across the ceiling until I am directly above the fiend and the half-orc. From this vantage, I determine the half-orc is in difficulty. He has been burned and his axe swings keep missing. The hellhound is very agile and quick-moving. MooGoo seems to be enraged. Foam and spittle flood his mouth. My personal plan was to scurry to the large west passageway and await them. But for the same reason I aided Vlad, I decide to aid MooGoo; we are all in the same predicament. Safety in numbers. I drop from the ceiling, fangs leaking venom. As I do so, I again hear an explosion and Korit shouts ‘good strike Vlad, you killed it’.

I land on the hound’s back, but it slips away before my fangs can close on it. I am unable to hold onto it. More magic missiles strike it. The hound bays in agony, leaps up, thus making me miss my bite. MooGoos’ axe misses it by a hair’s breadth. It races to the opposite side. It is fast. It turns to face us and deeply inhales. I know what to expect. This will hurt but I am serene in the anticipation. I calmly await it. I am Nera Aquilae, serene Child of the Green! Do your worst!

The hellhound exhales. It envelopes us in a cone of fierce fire. The hell fire burns, oh how it burns! The pain overwhelms me. My spider form convulses in agony. The fire ends. I lie on my back, eight legs jerking. I shape change. I stand before the hellhound, fully myself, serene and unscathed, ready to battle it.

There is no need. A loud clap echoes and a blackish energy beam strikes it mid body, detonating it into a million pieces. I recognize an eldritch blast. It could not be Breunor… so it must have been… Faeril… oh Faeril…what secrets are you hiding?

Without comment, MooGoo jumps over to another island and keeps on doing so reaching the west passage. The others do the same. I am trapped on the island, repulsive odor of hellhound innards in my nose. I jump towards the cavern wall; shape change back to spider and climb to the ceiling. I had noticed a smaller passage to the south and go investigate. My acute, superior spider senses detect nothing unusual. The others’ voices are dimming as they proceed down the larger west passage. Safety in numbers. I dash back and join them, ambling on the ceiling.

Korit leads, scouting as he does so. This time I do not join in. We continue uneventfully until it is time for a long rest. Korit has found us a reasonable secure area. We settle in and I revert. The others are now used to my transformations. There is no reaction.

Bruneor is kind. He doles out rations. “Those are the last” he declares. “We will now have to use survival skills.”

“We are being tested. Only the strong and competent will survive”, I hear MooGoo mumble under his breath. I do not respond. I have crossed wastelands, searing deserts, frozen tundra; The Green provides nourishment for its children. I will share with the others, but later.

I take my turn at watch duty then I enter my trance. It has been the same for many, many long years now. I take no joy in it as it always reminds of what I foolishly lost; of my regret; why I have become serene. My trance has become my nightly punishment. It is always the same. My lost love is with me. We play the games that lovers play. Together we watch sunsets and moonrises. We explore. We make love under the stars. We lie entwined, at peace. He carves me a golden whistle. Then the trance ends as it just did. My eyes open. I am full of the Green. My connection is strong and as always after a trance, my heart hurts and is joyless. Serenity resumes. It is my punishment. I accept it. The pain slowly dissipates. I perform a transmutation. The berries materialize in my hand.

The others are now all awake, arranging their few belongings. I approach them, offering a small smooth, round red berry, each with a dot of green, Bruenor first. Naturally the dwarf recognizes the magic. “Goodberry” he notes. “Returning your kindness” I respond. They each take one. They will not feel hunger or thirst today, their bodies are nourished. MooGoo mutters “maybe bug-woman not sack of turnips.” His compliment pleases me. Vlad bows his head, “I am further in your debt.” I tap his shoulder in the human gesture to indicate no obligation owed. High elves regard wood elves as rural simple, cousins but Korit seems to be free of this bias. Perhaps his upbringing was different. “Femma multi soprese est” he acknowledges me. I advise him “soprese semper expecti.”. Faeril knows now what I am. “Child of the Green?” It is not a question. I nod. I remember the eldritch blast. “Femma multi soprese est” I tell her. She grins, humor in her eyes, echoes my words “soprese semper expecti.” I grin back.

We depart. Korit again leads. Hours pass. Nothing changes. Finally, the passage opens into a large area that veers to the west. I smell moisture in the air. The area is full of large stalagmites. Further along lies a pile of skeleton bones. Korit goes to investigate. He rounds the corner, out of sight. That is when we hear his yelp.

We race around. To the south-west is a large pool, the source of the air moisture. Korit dangles from the ceiling, wrapped and suspended by a tentacle, tonguey, sticky filament. He is being lifted by a strange creature, a seven-foot-long combination of spider and lobster. “Cave fisher” shouts Breunor. I suppose dwarfs would know of these subterranean creatures.

Korit cuts himself free. He nimbly falls, landing on his feet. Missile weapons are fired. The creature is in darkness, moves swiftly and is difficult to see. The aim is challenging. I attempt to aid. I use the Green to invoke an incantation taught to me by friendly fey. It succeeds! The cave fisher is distinctly outlined in a pale green faerie fire. It can no longer hide. Now it is an easy target. My companion’s missiles pierce it, again and again. In death, it falls to the ground. Korit is fine, just shaken up.

For some inexplicable reason, he and Vlad head for the water. As they approach the water line, two grey oozes emerge. I launch a ball of fire at the closest one. It strikes but seems to fizzle. Whether it was that or them retreating, the oozes return under the water. Bruenor sends a servant to retrieve any items in and around the skeleton. It returns with several items, all determined by Breunor to be magical; a tablet with an inscription that no one can decipher, a short sword, a ring and three potions. We share these items, hoping to identify them later and continue onwards.

Chapter 4