After Ru retrieved her javelin and daggers, she used them to carefully extract the beholder's membrane. Exhausted from the surgical labor, long fight, and only having gotten half a night's sleep, she was ready to process the charred spectator quickly. She holstered her weapons, drew her maul, and made quick work of the smaller monstrosity. The squelching of flesh was louder now in the quiet night than during the battle. Unfortunately, Ru's choice in harvesting tools rendered the corpse useless.
"Well, at least I got one thing," Ru said, too tired to be disappointed. She cleaned the ichor off her maul in the tall grass before heading back to camp.
Also worn out from the night's events, Aeldevan and Magra didn't fair any better on harvesting their kills. Then Skamos cleared his throat for them to hear.
"Anyone want to heal Feyre? She's still dying over here," the Tiefling said, directing their attention to the unconscious gnome at his feet.
"Oh, right. Good catch," Aeldevan complimented as he hurried over and gave Skamos a kiss before kneeling down. He placed his hands over the gnome, and her wounds began healing right away as the pale green magic glowed over her.
A little embarrassed that she also forgot about her friend, Ru walked over and placed her hand on the gnome's head, brushing stray hairs off Feyre's face as her eyes fluttered open. "Are you okay?"
Groaning, Feyre dramatically put the back of her hand on her forehead and hoarsely whispered, "You know what would make me feel better? Some gold pieces."
"Well, I thought I found one, but it's actually just a shiny rock," Ru offered.
With the speed of a healthy person, Feyre snatched it out of her friend's hand and spoke normally, "I'll take it," before resuming her performance. "Do you have any obsidian or labradorite?"
"Get up!", Aeldevan demanded as he yanked Feyre to her feet. "You're fine now."
"No need to be rude," the gnome said as she brushed herself off.
While his friends walked back to the site, the half-elf hesitated and turned towards the trees. Magra had indicated those were the ones that shimmered, and he caught a fleeting glimpse of it. "Hey, Ru," he called. "Could you bring that flower Feyre found over here, please?"
The dwarf and others reconvened with Aeldevan at the tree line away from the slain bodies. He took the flower in his hands, cupping the damp soil to support the frail plant, and turned away.
"Why were you shimmering?" Aeldevan directed the question to both the flower and trees.
With only the druid hearing, the flower responded, "I don't know, but it's quite the sensation. I sense it fading, though."
"What else can you tell me about it?"
"I don't remember much, but I know the shimmering started at night." The trees grumbled in agreement with the flower, their leaves subtly rustling.
Aeldevan suddenly remembered a piece of lore about beholders he had read about after fighting their first zombie version. The creature's dreams would sometimes affect its environment up to a mile away, with one of the conditions being flickering distortions. An idea forming, he planted the flower back in the ground where he stood and held up his hand, closing his eyes in concentration.
"What are you doing?", Skamos asked.
"That beholder knew who we were," Aeldevan started.
"Which means this wasn't a random encounter," Ru finished, needing only a moment to realize what that meant.
Feyre crossed her arms. "Okay, but that doesn't explain why you're walking around with your hand in the air."
"This shimmering effect on the plants is from the beholder sleeping, which means its lair has to be within a mile of here," he explained. His friend still wasn't satisfied. "So, I'm trying to see if I can feel a greater concentration of magic in one direction that could lead us there."
"Let me see if Frank has any ideas," Feyre suggested as she turned her head to the critter on her shoulder. The rogue and rodent exchanged squeaks before he quickly hid back in her hood and shakily pointed northwest. "He doesn't know anything about what happened, but he's obviously afraid of something in that direction," Feyre explained.
"Too bad that first spectator got fried or else we could've tracked it to the lair," Magra sighed.
Aeldevan's eyes widened. "Magra, you're a genius!"
"I thought you already knew that," the half-orc replied, her face completely serious.
"You, too, Frank," the half-elf added, chittering directly to the chipmunk.
Aeldevan hurried over to where the ashy pulp that used to be a spectator was, its smoky and visceral odor wafting into his nostrils. He tried not to gag as he confirmed the direction it was heading matched with Frank's information. Turning one hundred eighty degrees, he began walking across the field in a straight line.
"Now what's he doing?", Feyre asked out loud, exasperated. "Frank obviously pointed that way." She gestured in the direction Aeldevan was walking opposite of. Everyone else shrugged but followed to make sure they could still see him in case there was another attack.
About ten minutes later, they heard Aeldevan shout, "Got it!" He ran back over to them near camp and explained. "What Magra said and where Frank pointed led me to believe the lair is northwest. Since the shimmering can only happen a mile out, I walked in the opposite direction to see when I couldn't detect its magic anymore. That way we could know how far from the lair we are, which happens to be about a mile."
The group looked at him in astonishment. "You figured all that out by yourself?", Skamos asked.
"I don't know, honestly," Aeldevan admitted. "It's almost like something, or someone, was guiding me."
"Well," Feyre announced, "now that that's settled, I'm going back to sleep. We can search for the lair in the morning," to which everyone unanimously agreed.
◊◊◊
Skamos's soothing voice broke through Aeldevan's slumber, singing about being his lover. However, when the druid flickered open his eyes, he was a little disappointed to see that the bard was singing to the whole group to rouse them into motion. It seemed to have worked, though, since Ru and Feyre were performing pirouettes and weaves around each other and Magra was using her pike of heads as a dancing pole.
Once Skamos finished his song, they packed their gear up and got ready to find the lair. It was a perfect day for traveling; the sky was clear with no indication of inclement weather, and the air felt just right with the scent of wildflowers. The site seemed safe enough to leave Kevin, Dilliah, and Dante for a few hours, so Magra had Nick accompany her this time. After breakfast, the nearby pond ensured everyone could quench their thirst.
Over their mile-long trek northwest, Skamos continued to hum his song for them. His melodic tune seemed to intertwine smoothly with the chirps and shrills of the forest birds. When they neared the assumed lair area, the fairly level forest floor began to grow into a hill where the trees became thicker.
"We're almost there," Aeldevan informed, not wanting to be too loud in case there was anything waiting for them. Skamos quieted, although the forest sounds continued on, suggesting that there was no imminent threat.
"I'm not seeing anything," Magra replied, swiveling her head for any clues.
"Hold on," the half-elf said as he stepped away from their current self-made path. "It looks like something's been traveling that way recently," he pointed in a direction slightly away from where they were headed. "There aren't any tracks though."
"Which makes sense since beholders don't have feet," Ru observed.
"Right." Aeldevan leaned down closer to the ground. "But it does look like something heavy was dragged, so let's head this way."
The rest followed, with Magra walking next to Aeldevan followed by Feyre and Ru. Skamos and Nick brought up the rear, the hound licking at the bard's fingertips. Unfortunately, Magra didn't notice the concealed hole in the ground between the thick trees and plummeted forty feet down, almost bringing Aeldevan with her. He managed to catch his balance but was thankful for Ru quickly grabbing him just in case.
With barely any hesitation, Feyre leapt into the opening and cautiously levitated down to Magra. "Are you okay?", she called.
"Yeah," Magra groaned. "My ass broke my fall."
As she floated down, Feyre passed ten feet of earth and then a five-foot high cavity, but there didn't appear to be any creatures lying in wait for unsuspecting victims. She then passed a second set before reaching the lower floor where Magra was still sitting.
"Wow," the half-orc breathed as if in awe. "With the way that sun hits you, you look just like an angel coming down to rescue me."
The floating gnome spread her arms wide to appear more heavenly as she paired it with some vocals that echoed off the earth walls. Almost touching the ground now, something caught her attention in the dim light that made her change directions. Magra knew that hungry look and followed her friend's entranced gaze.
"Feyre, leave the chest alone," Magra warned, still sitting on the ground and unable to grab the flying rogue. "You don't know if it's a mimic, and we're not in a position to fight."
"Well, you seem fine enough," Feyre said dismissively as she landed at the old wooden chest.
"Gee, thanks," Magra replied dryly, rubbing her bottom as she slowly stood up. The ceiling was just short enough where she had to hunch her back. "I'm not going to be able to go all out in this space if it is a mimic," the half-orc thought to herself, hoping Feyre didn't make a mistake.
"Well that was easy," Feyre said aloud, the lock she was trying to pick having crumbled into a rusty clump. She brushed her hands off and raised the lid before her eyes began to sparkle. "Ooh, pretty!" The gnome held up a gold ring inlaid with soft crescent waves of labradorite stone. "This is a ring of swimming!" She immediately put it on and held it out in admiration before shoveling the three hundred gold pieces also from the chest into her pockets.
Having heard Magra say she was okay, Ru took our her long hempen rope. "Let's tie our ropes together around that tree so we can get down without breaking a leg." Skamos and Aeldevan chuckled and helped secure the lines. Ru began climbing down just before they heard Magra's startled shout.
"Hey! I found a guy who's stiff, and not in a good way. How do I make him not...hard?" The barbarian's choice of words made everyone laugh, almost causing Ru to lose her grip on the rope. "Aeldevan, you might want to take a look at this."
"We're on our way," the half-elf called back.
Once everyone was safely on the ground floor, Feyre handed each person ten gold pieces while she flashed her new jewelry. "For your troubles," she said humbly.
Magra then directed them to a stone statue of a man leaning against the back wall who appeared to have been mid-combat. Aeldevan inspected the figure and ran a finger along the figure's shoulder. "This is definitely someone who's been petrified, no doubt the beholder's doing," he observed. "I can undo the effect, but I don't have the materials needed for it."
"Well, he's definitely too heavy for us to move out of here," Skamos said.
"We don't even know who he is, so maybe it's best we leave him," said Feyre as she slowly hovered toward the hole in the ceiling to look for more treasure.
"What if this is Aarin?" Aeldevan asked. "Even though we only know a few details that we can't actually confirm with him like this, it wouldn't be impossible."
"Good point," Ru agreed. "We can always come back for him once you get what you need. I'm sure he'll be safe since it doesn't look like anything is living here anymore."
Reluctantly, Aeldevan conceded and joined the others back at the rope to begin their ascent to the next level in the lair.
◊◊◊
"What is that?", Feyre asked aloud. She had already flown up by the time Ru climbed onto the next level and was looking at a large mound of dirt with a small indent on top.
"That must be where the beholder sleeps...er, slept I mean," the dwarf proposed before noticing a wide cedarwood chest in the corner. She looked over at Feyre, but the rogue had already noticed a smaller box on a nearby table.
"Find anything?", Magra called from the bottom of the rope, last in line.
Skamos had just grabbed onto the ledge. "They're already opening up two more chests," he announced with frustration.
Still clinging to the rope, Aeldevan sighed and continued climbing, hoping to find more treasure before Feyre snatched it. Magra was now behind him, and her expression read the same thing.
Still in the sleeping chamber, Skamos was admiring several ornate pictures hanging on the earthen walls. "Looks like it had quite the taste in artwork." Each image was of a different unknown leader being worshipped by their followers.
"Yeah, that's definitely a different take on a manifestation board," Feyre joked as she walked past the Tiefling, stuffing her newly-found sixty gold pieces into her already bulging pockets.
"Woah!" Ru's excitement made Skamos and Feyre spin around to look. The fighter shook out a large carpet that unrolled to take up most of the floor. "So pretty," she praised as she ran her hand over the flawless threads and noticed that it was slightly hovering.
"Is that a carpet of flying?" Skamos asked, giddy at finally seeing one in person.
Ru's eyes lit up and she quickly hopped on. "Yip yip!", she commanded. Immediately, the carpet levitated higher off the ground. "This is so cool!"
"Now we can fly around together," Feyre said, hovering next to the carpet.
Magra overheard and felt a twinge of jealousy but shook it off. "That's great, Ru!," she called back down. "Now hurry up so we can get out of here."
"The carpet's big enough to fit a couple of us comfortably, so get on," Ru told Skamos. "Now we don't need to worry about climbing the rope." Skamos crawled onto the floating carpet, and they began their ascent with Feyre and her boots fluttering behind.
Aeldevan stood near the entrance of the top chamber which looked to be where the beholder ate its food. He grimaced at the bones from both animals and people that littered the floor. "I guess you don't need to clean the ground when you float above it," he muttered, trying to avoid the carcasses as he went to explore the rest of the room.
"Another chest!" Magra shouted as she barreled through the skeletons, almost knocking Aeldevan into a half-eaten deer. At the back of the chamber on a stone shelf sat a small black box. Magra tore the lid off without hesitation to reveal a bottle of sparkling red liquid nested in a velvet-lined pillow. She read the label out loud, "Potion of supreme healing. Nice!" With the box destroyed, the barbarian carefully placed the bottle in one of her pouches that held other vials.
Aeldevan had finally caught up with her and noticed a decaying humanoid in the corner. A necklace around its neck caught his eye. He held his breath as he bent down to remove it and swiped a hefty pouch clutched in the corpse's skeletal hand while he was there. "I've seen one of these before," the half-elf said in delight. "It's a necklace that allows you to breath in any environment," he explained as he put it around his own neck. He opened the pouch and his jaw fell open, seeing three hundred gold pieces. He quietly put the pouch in his own bag of holding.
"Save anything for me?" Magra and Aeldevan were a little startled to hear Skamos right behind them since they didn't hear him approach. He and Ru were sitting on the carpet that now hovered over the bones while Feyre flitted around the room looking for more treasure.
"This guy really needs a housekeeper," Ru commented with disgust.
"Sorry, not much here," Magra patted Skamos's shoulder as she switched places with him and crawled onto the carpet.
Aeldevan helped the bard down so that he could take a look for himself, careful to avoid stepping on rotting organs. The only thing that resembled anything of value was a book collecting dust on another stone shelf. Skamos picked it up and blew off the dust, blinding himself as the filth rebounded off the wall and into his face. After a coughing fit and rubbing at his eyes, he saw the title of the book was gilded in silver which he read aloud, "A Guide to Leadership & Influence." His interest piqued, he flipped through the pages slowly so as to not stir up more dust. "I think this will come in handy," he said as he and the druid both squeezed onto the carpet with the others, "and it's been a while since I've read a good book."
"Everyone ready to get out of here?", Ru asked. With everyone's confirmation, she directed the carpet back out of the lair and into the noon sun with Feyre flying after them, vowing to return to rescue the man trapped in stone.
