The Mirstone Coven (The Voidbringer Campaign Book 3) Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Letter from the Author

  OGL

  Product Identity: The following items are hereby identified as Product Identity, as defined in the Open Game License version 1.0a, Section 1(e), and are not Open Content: All trademarks, registered trademarks, proper names (characters, deities, etc.), dialogue, plots, storylines, locations, characters, artwork, and trade dress. (Elements that have previously been designated as Open Game Content or are in the public domain are not included in this declaration.)

  Open Content: Except for material designated as Product Identity (see above), the game mechanics referred to in this product are Open Game Content, as defined in the Open Game License version 1.0a Section 1(d). No portion of this work other than the material designated as Open Game Content may be reproduced in any form without written permission.

  Copyright © 2022 M. Allen Hall

  ISBN 979-8-9850231-5-2

  Cover by federikary

  All rights reserved.

  For Logan

  PROLOGUE

  MADISON SKIPPED INTO the kitchen.

  “Hey, Amelia!” she greeted her younger sister, who was sitting at the table doing her homework. “It’s time to play! Dad’s already set up. Let’s go!”

  “Don’t you have homework to do?” Amelia asked, not looking up from her work.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” Madison replied. She dropped her backpack in the corner of the room. “But Dad’s ready now! Homework can wait.”

  Amelia looked up. She raised an eyebrow at Madison. “You can go talk to Logan, then. He’s been in his room all day working on that history paper. Good luck convincing him to take a break.” Her focus returned to the book in front of her.

  “Fine. I will,” Madison replied in a huff, and she headed upstairs.

  “Logan! It’s time to play!” she shouted as she banged on her older brother’s bedroom door.

  “Go away!” he shouted back, not opening the door.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Madison groaned. She pushed the door open. Logan was seated on his bed, surrounded by books, notebooks, and loose papers. His laptop was open in front of him, but his hands were holding his head as he stared blankly at the screen. “Alright, book boy. You’re taking a break. It’s game time.”

  “I can’t,” he mumbled. “I have to do this. It was supposed to be a group project, but Chris went on vacation, and he didn’t do any of the work he was supposed to do!” Logan looked like he was on the verge of tears.

  “Okay, seriously,” Madison said, her tone less playful, more tactful. “I’m sure you can finish this project. Does your teacher know that Chris didn’t do his part?”

  “I don’t know,” Logan replied dejectedly.

  “Are you going to tell her?” Madison pried.

  “No. She doesn’t care. She’ll just say he should have already done it since she assigned it a month ago. I’m going to get an ‘F’ anyway.” Logan flopped back onto his pillow.

  “I’ve heard enough,” Madison said. She stepped forward and slammed Logan’s laptop shut. “You’re coming downstairs to play. You need a break. You’ll be fine on this project. We’ll figure it out later. But right now, Valduin has no magic and Rose is still unconscious after being resurrected. We have work to do!”

  She took Logan by the collar and dragged him out of bed and down the stairs.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “ROSE,” ADELAIDE WHISPERED.

  She waited.

  “Rose,” she stated, a bit louder now. She squeezed Rose’s hand in both of her own.

  Another moment passed.

  “Rose Fairfoot! It is time to wake up!” she croaked. Her dirty cheeks were streaked with dried tears. She had slept poorly, tossing and turning through nightmares, haunted by a leering dragon. She had returned to Rose’s side before first light. Adelaide sat on a stool next to the table where Rose’s slight body lay, holding the halfling’s hand. The acrid smell of Taranath’s breath weapon strangely complemented the musty scents of the dried herbs and flowers that hung from the rafters of Beulah’s hut.

  The room had brightened with the morning, as bright as the cursed place could ever be, when at last Rose stirred. She squeezed Adelaide’s hand lightly. With a moan, Rose turned her head toward Adelaide. Her eyes fluttered open. She gave Adelaide a weak smile.

  “Hey,” she said, her voice weak and breathy. “Let’s not do that again.”

  Adelaide smiled back, her eyes welling up anew. “No. Definitely not.” She leaned over the table and hugged Rose.

  “Ow, ow, ow,” Rose complained, but she hugged Adelaide back, nonetheless. With the help of her human friend, the halfling sat up, her legs dangling off the side of the table. She looked around.

  “Beulah’s hut?” she asked Adelaide, though she didn’t wait for an answer before asking her next questions. “She saved us? Where is she?”

  “Yeah, she saved us,” Adelaide confirmed. “I’m not entirely sure why. But when Taranath showed up and turned into a dragon, I wasn’t about to refuse the help. We’ll see how much we regret that later, I guess. She’s downstairs with Valduin. She had something that she needed his help with,” Adelaide finished with a shrug.

  “And you saved me,” Rose said, smiling warmly at Adelaide.

  “It was kind of a team effort,” Adelaide replied, looking down at her hands. “It was definitely Beulah’s magic that did it. I just sort of helped out with the ritual. Because I knew you better, I guess. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what happened. What do you remember?”

  Rose gazed into the distance over Adelaide’s shoulder as she recounted her experience, “We were on the cliff. Beulah was standing next to you. Then I had a flashback to Khal Durum. I remembered the vision that I had when we went down to the Berdakhal, and—”

  “Wait. Wait. You had a vision? Like, an actual fiery vision from the magic lava like the dwarves kept talking about? You never told me that!”

  It was Rose’s turn to look down at her hands. “Yeah, I know. It was a little hard to follow. And it showed me dying, so I wasn’t super excited to talk about it,” Rose explained, not revealing the rest of her vision, in which she had seen Valduin and Adelaide die as well. She continued, “So, in the vision, I saw myself lying on that cliff. Dead. So, when we were there, and I recognized the cliff, I sort of froze. And then Taranath turned into a dragon, and it was lights out.

  “Taranath’s breath weapon
was strange. It didn’t hurt. It filled my head with this screaming cacophony that got louder and louder until my mind just stopped. I guess that’s when I died. It took a moment, but eventually, I realized that I was somewhere else. It was like how Tor described it. I was me, and I was whole, but I was alone in endless darkness. And then I saw a light. Far off in that darkness but growing closer. I couldn’t tell if I was moving toward it or if it was moving toward me. But before I reached it, I heard your voice. You brought me back.” Rose finished with a smile. “Thank you.”

  Adelaide smiled back. “Any time.”

  Valduin stood at the bottom of the stairs, scanning the lower floor of Beulah’s hut. The basement stretched away from him into darkness in every direction. Crates, boxes, and cages were stacked from floor to ceiling in haphazard towers and pyramids throughout the space, blocking any view of the walls of the room. It could have gone on forever. The piles swelled and converged, overlapped and compounded. The more Valduin stared, the more cluttered the basement appeared.

  “I shouldn’t need to say it,” Beulah muttered to Valduin, “but I will anyway. Don’t touch anything.” She gave the half-elf a stern look before sliding between two stacks of boxes, disappearing through a space that should have been too narrow for her to pass through. Valduin said nothing. He stayed put.

  Valduin heard the scraping of metal on stone from deeper in the cellar, the creaking of a hinged lid opening and closing, and the tapping of Beulah’s boots as she returned to him. She held out one hand to him. As her too-long fingers uncurled, Valduin saw a small, plain leather pouch. Beulah loosened the drawstring with one dirty fingernail. She opened the pouch to reveal a dozen small, clear, crystal spheres. They looked to Valduin like unadorned marbles. He looked from the spheres to Beulah but said nothing.

  “You will need these little beauties,” she began as she pulled a single marble from the pouch. “This is a soul sphere. With it, you can capture a soul as it leaves the body. You’ll have to move quickly, or the soul will get away. Catching souls requires stronger magic the farther they get. These gems, while powerful, must be used just as the body dies. Each sphere can hold one soul for one hundred days. Wait any longer, and the sphere will shatter, releasing the soul. But that is rarely an issue.” She replaced the soul sphere in the pouch.

  “Will any soul do?” Valduin asked. He wanted to be clear as to the terms of this particular debt. He did not like how rapidly their debts were accumulating. “And how will I get them back to you if we have to spend a few months away to complete our tasks? And how many do we owe you?”

  Beulah gave a wicked grin. “Very astute questions. First of all, no, not any soul will do. Shining, immaculate souls are nearly worthless. That is why I did not take your halfling’s soul as payment of our original debt. She is worth more to both of us alive. As to the number of owed souls,” she let her voice trail away to a hiss as she inspected Valduin. “I require one soul each for saving you three from Taranath. And for payment for the return of your powers, I think we can discuss that once we’ve cleared your other debts.”

  Valduin held out his hand to receive the pouch. It was heavier than he expected, much like the rest of this conversation.

  “We’ll see how you do,” Beulah continued. “For now, granting you some magic is just my way of protecting my investment in you. Some number of souls will be required as payment, but we can work out the details later.” Beulah climbed the stairs, her long legs taking them three at a time.

  “What about my other question,” Valduin spoke up, looking up at Beulah’s back from the bottom of the stairs. “How will I be able to return these to you before they run out of time?”

  Beulah paused in her ascent. She looked over her shoulder. “You still have the Inseparable Clay Pot, don’t you?”

  “Oh! Actually, yes,” Valduin replied, surprised that he hadn’t thought of it. “It’s in my pack.”

  “You’ll give me the pot, and you’ll take the lid.” She shook her head and mumbled, “Not a good start, elf.”

  “Rose! You’re back!” Valduin exclaimed.

  Rose and Adelaide turned toward the corner of the room at the sound of Valduin’s voice. They watched the trap door that had covered the stairs to the basement swing shut behind him, moved by an unseen force.

  Adelaide had helped Rose move from the table to the couches, which were a fraction more comfortable. Adelaide had considered starting a fire to warm up their little space in the hag’s hut, but she had decided to ask permission before she went out to find firewood. She did not want to upset Beulah so soon after the hag had gone out of her way to save them.

  Careful not to bump into any of Beulah’s tables or shelves, Valduin hurried across the room to Rose’s side. He knelt down so he could hug her properly.

  Rose did not complain about her sore body as the half-elf squeezed her. Adelaide’s hug had hurt more.

  Beulah was in no mood for niceties. “Good. You’re awake,” she said. She perched on a stool next to the fireplace and inspected the three adventurers sitting on the tattered couch. Valduin could not bring himself to look her in the eyes; he stared at the cold fireplace. Adelaide had no problem returning the hag’s intense stare.

  When Beulah did not say anything else, Rose spoke up. “Thank you for bringing me back,” she said politely. “I really appreciate it. I know that spell probably cost you a lot. I will make it up to you if I can.”

  “You are correct,” Beulah replied, her voice and countenance stern. “I traded a deliciously dastardly soul for that cocoon. I had other plans for it, but, as you so astutely recognize, you will make it up to me.” She let the last few ominous words hang in the stale air of the hut.

  “You knew he was a dragon, didn’t you?” Valduin asked, still not looking at Beulah. Instead, he pulled his spellbook out of his pack. The book still looked as new as the day he had picked it up in Galien’s tomb. The glossy black leather and lustrous brass clasp shone even in the low light of the hut. He opened the book and flipped through the pages. Reminding him of how he had found the book, they were all blank.

  “Yes. I have known Taranath for a very long time. I knew him before he took that name. Don’t look so pathetic. You are not the first one that he has used for his own interests. You should ken that a creature that has lived for a few millennia thinks very little of the lives, opinions, or feelings of mortals.” Beulah held out her hand. “Now, I assume you will be wanting your spells back.”

  He handed her the book. “I need them. I am of no use to you without them. No use to anyone.” Still avoiding eye contact, he stared at the book in her hands.

  Beulah took the book. She turned it over in her hands; her purple lips stretched to reveal black, jagged teeth in a menacing smile. She held it up to her face and took a long sniff of the immaculate black leather. Her eyes closed as she relished the scent. She ran her long fingers along the brass plate that reinforced the spine of the book. She flicked open the clasp with a satisfied sigh. Valduin watched her blankly, but Adelaide and Rose exchanged discreet, disgusted looks.

  When the hag had finished inspecting the book, she reached out and plucked a quill from a jar on a table behind the sofa where they sat. To the adventurers’ eyes, she should not have been able to reach that table from where she was seated, next to the fireplace. They could not tell if her arm stretched or if the hut contracted, but either way, the quill was soon scratching away furiously on the blank pages of the book. A minute later, she held the book back out to Valduin.

  To his surprise, the entire appearance of the spellbook had changed. Instead of the soft, oiled leather that he was accustomed to, the cover was now dry and cracked. Instead of polished brass, the binding was reinforced with a rusty iron plate. Valduin was unable to hide his disgust at the sight of the spellbook, and Beulah gave a wicked cackle at his response.

  “You’ll find I am not as vain as the old worm,” Beulah said. “I like old things to look old. Why else would he spend so long in the Time
less Sea?”

  “What’s the Timeless Sea?” Valduin asked reflexively as he returned the book to his pack.

  Beulah rolled her eyes. “You aren’t impressive at all, are you? Didn’t you go to some fancy elf school? They didn’t teach you about the planes? The Timeless Sea, the Deep In-Between, and the Astral Plane are all the same place. It has other names as well, but not in any languages you would understand. There is no time in the Astral Plane. The living do not age. That is why Taranath lives there. After spending a thousand years on the Material Plane, he took refuge from the ravages of time among the Outer Planes. The dark changed him, though. Robbed him of his fire. But, you all learned that even a dragon without fire is dangerous, now, didn’t you?” She looked at Rose, as did Adelaide and Valduin.

  Rose shuddered at the reminder of the horrible gray smoke of Taranath’s breath weapon.

  “Is that why his wings looked like that?” Rose asked, not wanting to linger on the memory of her death.

  “I have not seen him in his true form in a few centuries, but I assume so. They were a window to the Astral Plane. A mark of his connection to that place,” Beulah explained. “And I also assume that is where he met the Voidbringer.”

  All three of the adventurers sat up straight at the name. “Where did you hear about the Voidbringer?” Adelaide asked.

  Beulah gave a satisfied smile. “I have ways of obtaining information. Let’s start with what you three know.”

  The adventurers exchanged troubled glances. Valduin spoke first, “We saw him. Shortly after we first met you. The devil Azereth had been working for the Voidbringer. Azereth was directing a massive effort to collect diamonds for him. He had enlisted several different groups throughout the Virdes Forest to do this for him. When we killed Azereth, he had just sent several crates of diamonds through a portal. The Voidbringer was on the other side of the portal. He looked like a devil, but bigger than any that we have seen.”