pages/acl.cool/site/draft/umbral4.dj

# Umbral Gaze 4: Candle-head


[^divine]: A natural 20 at the most opportune time

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On the heels of their seafaring victory over [the Cyclone](/writings/umbral3/), the party takes a portal to Neverwinter[^neverwinter], "the City of Skilled Hands", lying not far from the next beholder. The settlement offers plenty a nook and corner store from which our heroes can obtain much-needed supplies, and they stock up with vigor. Clementine is lucky enough to find some gilded acorns; Gottlob replenishes his stash of components for "revivify". Come dawn, members of the Wintershield Watchmen[^ww]--- at Tasha's behest--- brief our heroes on their quarry, and the burly dwarves who explain leave the party with an impression of otherworldly absurdity.

The beholder's lair is known to the denizens of Neverwinter as Brog Burgest, "cake pile", for to call the dulcet travesty a "mountain" would be an insult to mountains, but "pile" fails to capture the scale of the topography. Brog Burgest's peak vanishes upward among clouds. A beholder is known by the locals to have taken up residence at the pile, and since it arrived, townspeople and passers-through have vanished at a terrible pace. A correspondence must be assumed.

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***

The party departs with haste, though the journey to the mountain is not long, and soon a warm, sweet wind--- as from a baker's oven--- tousles the party's hair and delights their nostrils. Boots squelching in buttercream frosting, they rock back on their heels to regard the meeting of caky cliffs and gulleys with azure sky. Now at the mountain's base, our heroes discuss what path they should take to the peak, at which they can only assume a dessert-obsessed beholder tends a gargantuan oven. Dutifully, flight-capable Louisa goes ahead by air to scout the narrow path that meanders its way upward along the mountainside--- clearly not laid for easy passage--- but as she ascends through quickly gathering clouds and roiling mists, the solidity of her surroundings wavers; temperate farmland replaces slopes of sponge, and the wizard senses powerful dimensional magic permeating an otherworldly scene before her.

Humanoids--- humans, mostly--- labor in fields of blue-topped grain. Gnomes in bright red hats[^redcap] keep the workers in line, their sickles and whips employed eagerly to _encourage_ any slaves who seem to fall behind. Chained manacles at the ankles of the fitter of their charges seem aimed to prevent escape, though where a runaway could escape _to_, Louisa cannot tell; all is only fields and cliffs as far as she can see.

Rendering herself invisible with a spell, the llama swoops closer to investigate, but cold fingers of dread grip her heart at what she discovers. The wizard's own body, her _human_ body, threshes indigo grass at the edge of the nearest plot; the gaze of a scythe-wielding slave master fixes... her? it..? in cruel contempt from a flanking position. The intensity of labour demanded by the redcaps shows itself in her body's condition. Thin, trembling arms beat the grain at increasing intervals, just today's hours of hard labor taking their toll of strength. Her dark hair sports bits of straw and chaff among its tangles; her olive skin is caked with dust and sweat. Whether the glassy, unblinking eyes are a product of exhaustion or of whatever magic moves her presumedly uninhabited form, Louisa only wishes she could tell.

The wizard pauses here, for a moment, to consider her options. She knows that all the desperate longing in the world cannot overcome the tactical reality of the situation on the farmland below--- there is no way she can rescue her human form alone--- but she is determined to get some sort of consolation all the same. Making a diving pass, the llama spits mightily upon the redcap slave master that pokes mirthfully at her vacated flesh, but as she does, a twisted old woman appears, black cloth obscuring all but her hands and her spiral-horned head.



[^neverwinter]: [Neverwinter](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Neverwinter) is a northern city of craftsmen and artisans regarded as among the most cosmopolitan metropoleis in Faerûn.

[^ww]: The [Wintershield Watchmen](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Wintershield_watchmen) is a local volunteer militia that polices the city of Neverwinter and sees to its interests in the surrounds.

[^redcap]: [Redcaps](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Redcap) are evil, bloodthirsty fey--- gnome-like in appearance--- known for their brutality and need to kill for self-sustainment.