Chapter 9: How to Talk to Banshees and Girls
The Loud Boys in The Lost Mine of Phandelver, a D&D report
There were a few hiccups in getting back to Phandalin, such reaching the outskirts of the town and then realising that they had left the missing Lionshield Coster stores in the goblin cave, and having to find a healer for the injured Sildar Hallwinter before retrieving the stores. However, everything was done eventually, with Sildar recovering in the Stonehill Inn and the Lionshield store owner giving a substantial reward for the return of her goods. The three adventurers decided to go along the Triboar Trial next to find the banshee that the pretty priestess of Tymora had been trying to communicate with. It was an uneventful journey, and before they knew it they were standing, according to the priestess’ instructions, outside the banshee’s lair in Neverwinter Wood.
The forest was dark and still, heavy vines and thick layers of moss draping the branches of the twisted trees. The air was cold and dank. As they rounded the last corner, they saw before them a dome woven from the branches of closely growing trees, a low doorway set on one side.
“I feel a bit creepy,” said Jake, fiddling with his rainbow cube. Small sparks of magic floated from his robe, a sign of his nervousness.
“Yeah,” agreed Kila. “What exactly is a banshee?”
“It’s a spiteful creature formed from the spirit of a female elf,” said Jake. His eyes took on a glazed appearance, flickering side to side quickly as though he was reading an invisible page in the air in front of him. “It can Detect Life and use Incorporeal Movement. It can be very dangerous as once a day, it has access to Wail, which is a psychic move that can strip your life-”
“Jake,” whispered Kila, “Look!”
Beyond the low doorway they could just make out the dust of the ground stirring unnaturally. The motes caught the light entering through the doorway as though they were being blown by a mini-tornado, which lengthened and brightened into a blinding flash. When they had blinked away the momentary light-blindness, they saw a transparent elven shape, its rags fluttering in a spectral wind. A hateful expression twisted her once-beautiful features. “Foolish mortals!” she snarled in a high, thin whine. “What do you want here? Do you not know it is death to seek me out?”
Jake and Kila took an involuntary step closer to each other. Somehow, Uayak had disappeared again. Kila nudged Jake, and Jake nudged him back, putting the silver comb that the priestess of Tymora had given them into his hand.
“Um, hello miss,” said Kila in a trembling voice. He held the silver comb before him as though it was a carrot for a donkey. “Um, we don’t mean you any harm. We, uh, just wanted to give you this, uh, this present.”
The ghostly figure leant closer, and inspected the offering, then smiled with cold amusement as she snatched the comb. Although her fingers went through the trinket, Kila felt the weight of it lift from his hand, and the comb vanished as it left him. “I know that you seek many things. Ask me one question, and I will give you an answer.”
Scratching his head, Kila looked at Jake for help. “What were we supposed to ask again?”
Jake closed his eyes as he searched his formidable memory. “Where is the sorcerer Bowgentle’s spellbook?”
The banshee narrowed her eyes. “Working for that do-gooder priestess, are you? Well, I promised you an answer. I traded it over a hundred years ago, to the necromancer Tsernoth in Iriaebor City. I don’t know what’s happened to it now. It’s a shame you wasted your question for that slip of a girl. There were a lot of other things I could have helped you with.”
With that, the phantasm lifted its hands and started spinning, faster and faster until it spiralled into nothingness.
Uayak stepped out from the shadows. “I thought that would be much more difficult, to be honest,” he muttered. “Do you think she has anything else valuable hidden in here?”
“I really don’t think you should steal a banshee’s things-” started Kila, but Uayak was already delicately flicking through the minimal wooden desk and chests lined against the walls. “Nothing worth taking,” said Uayak in disgust. “No jewellery, no treasures, no coin… Guess it’s time to go back and hand in the quest.”
The journey back to town was equally uneventful. Although there were a few moments when a flicker in the forest, or a rustle in the leaves, seemed to indicate the presence of enemies, further investigation always led to nothing. They found the priestess standing by the shrine of the Goddess of Luck with her eyes closed, meditating, and waited awkwardly for her to notice them. Eventually, she took a deep breath and her eyelashes fluttered apart. She saw the three hulking men and jumped.
“Oh! You surprised me!”
Kila glanced at Jake, who was blushing and looking off into the distance, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Sighing, he stepped forward and said, “Hello. How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she said. There was a pause.
“We saw the banshee,” said Kila. “She said… What did she say?”
Jake made a squeaking noise. Kila elbowed him.
Jake cleared his throat and mumbled something indistinctly.
“I’m sorry,” said the priestess. “I didn’t catch that.”
Kila interpreted, “The spellbook was traded to the necromancer Tsernoth in Iraiebor City a hundred years ago. We couldn’t find out anything else.”
A satisfied smile spread across the priestess’ face. “That’s enough for me to keep looking. I thought I’d hit a dead end. Thank you very much. Please, take these healing potions as a token of my appreciation, one for each of- Wait, I thought there were three of you?” She whirled around to find Uayak standing right behind her. “Oh, there you are. Here’s one for you, too.”
As the three adventurers took their leave, she caught hold of Kila’s sleeve. “Wait, adventurer! I have something to say to you privately.”
Jake and Uayak looked back, shrugged and moved to the other side of the town square.
The priestess stepped close, took something from a pouch at her belt which flashed silver, and pressed it into Kila’s palm. “You strike me as a good and honest man,” she said in a low voice. “My organisation need more people like you. I work with the Harpers. We stand for the weak, the poor and the oppressed against those who would take advantage of them. This is a sign any Harper will recognise. It marks you as a Watcher, someone we can rely on to help wherever we see bullies and tyrants. Can we trust you?”
“Uh… uh… Ok, yeah, sure…” said Kila.
“Thank you,” she said, then stepped away and stood beside the shrine again, eyes closed in meditation. The change was so sudden that Kila felt a little disoriented. After a moment, he turned away and spotted the other two. He walked slowly across the town square, dodging the people, carts and dogs crossing it mechanically.
“What did she want?” said Jake.
“Um… She said something about… being a Watcher, I think,” said Kila, opening his palm. A small silver pin shaped like a harp glittered in the sunlight.
"You joined the Harpers?” said Uayak sharply. “Huh.”
“What do you mean? Is it a bad thing?” said Kila, alarmed.
Uayak shrugged one shoulder mysteriously. “Never thought I’d see a Loud Boy accepted as a Harper. Oh well, life is funny sometimes, isn’t it? Listen, Jake and I were just talking to someone, and he mentioned that there’s a halfling farmer on the other side of town. There’s not that many of us around, and I’d like to go and meet her.”
Kila carefully clipped the pin onto his shirt underneath the leather of his armour, where it would remain hidden, then followed the other two through the town.
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Chapter 8, the previous chapter to this chapter, is chaptered previously;
Chapter 10, the chapter following this present chapter, will be chaptered nextly;
And Chapter 1 is here: