Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

A Hunter’s Harvest, A Mage’s Misery

Seeing Deleniel outside the safety of their village - especially at a place such as the Friendly Arms Inn - was a rare occurrence, and Mendel made sure to treasure the moment. Huddled under the small wooden overhang of a merchant caravan to escape the rain, they traded whispers about the latest rumors until the conversation turned toward the upcoming Lunar Festival at the beach lighthouse. When Mendel suggested she help with the food preparations, Deleniel agreed with a warm, easy smile; she was always one to lend a hand, and the prospect of some social fun by the sea was too good to pass up. Of course, a feast requires fresh meat, and when she mentioned needing to hunt, Mendel was already checking his bowstring. Luck favored them on their trek back into the treeline, as they managed to bring down a magnificent elk. While Mendel set to work preparing the carcass for transport, Deleniel moved through the underbrush with practiced grace, gathering the specific wild herbs and berries needed for her signature sauce.

The real amusement began once they returned to the village. With a mischievous glint in her eye, Deleniel instructed Mendel to haul the heavy elk directly into the First Mage’s office - the very room now occupied by Natariel. Though Mendel was initially taken aback, he complied with a growing grin as he remembered the village’s second best-kept secret. The previous First Mage, Ithilwen, had placed a permanent freezing spell on the room that had never been dispelled. To the rest of the world, it was a prestigious office, but to Deleniel, it was simply the most effective freezer in the Misty Forest. As he hung the game amidst the scrolls and arcane instruments, Mendel could already imagine Natariel’s mounting annoyance at finding a massive elk cooling in her workspace, and he found himself eagerly anticipating the look on the Mage's face.

The Arachne’s Descent
Event by DM Faith

The Gathering at the Old Shrine
The mission began at an ancient forest shrine, where a disparate group assembled to track a threat that had claimed the life of a fellow ranger. The party consisted of a vanguard of elves - Traum, Yuri, Natariel, and Mendel - supported by Sane (Human Druid), Larael (Half-Elf Sorceress), and three followers of Eilistrae: Alva’Sunn, Lomith, and Mitheera. One member departed just as the march began, leaving the group to move forward with a silent, focused resolve.



Encounters on the Trail
The patrol first moved through a forest clearing where they were intercepted by a band of barbarians. The skirmish was brief, but it served as a prelude to more complex movements. Shortly after, a second elven patrol was spotted approaching. To avoid a confrontation and keep the Eilistraeen priestesses unseen, the group split their efforts: Larael used her magic to turn herself and the sisters ethereal, while the elven leads intercepted the patrol.

After a tense exchange, the patrol provided coordinates to the caves and departed toward the South. However, despite their apparent exit, the group remained wary; in the deep woods, the line between "gone" and "hidden" is notoriously thin.

The Massacre at the Camp
Before reaching the objective, the party discovered the remains of an orcish camp. The scene was one of total slaughter, yet the evidence suggested it was not the work of elves, orcs, or any known predator of the forest. The kills were roughly a tenday old, pointing toward an invasive and highly lethal presence that left the group questioning if they were walking directly into a trap.



The Descent into the Caves
Inside the cavern system, the atmosphere grew heavy. The group navigated narrow passages, passing massive, strange mushrooms that briefly distracted the druid, Sane, before stumbling upon a horrific sight: a mound of half-eaten orcs. As the party approached, the corpses began to rise. It was not traditional undeath, but a parasitic infestation; swarms of spiders had burrowed into the bodies, animating them as macabre puppets.



The Arrival of the Cleric and the Solars
A drow cleric of Lolth soon emerged to lead the assault. As the group struggled against the overwhelming damage of the swarms and the priestess’s magic, the tide turned through a remarkable display of faith. Both Natariel and the drow priestess Mitheera successfully summoned Solars to the field. The divine healing from these celestial beings rejuvenated the party, providing a rare and powerful image of a drow calling upon the light of the Seldarine to combat ancient evil.



The Breach and the Flight
The situation reached a breaking point when the Lolthite cleric began a dark, rhythmic incantation in an unfamiliar tongue. In that moment, it felt as though time itself had frozen, leaving the group with a harrowing choice: fight or flight. Despite the dire odds, every member of the party stood their ground, refusing to retreat even as the floor beneath them began to crumble under the weight of the spell. In a final act of self-sacrifice, Mitheera threw Larael to safety just as the ground gave way. Below, a massive, green-shining spider-demon hovered in the darkness; the priestess landed upon it and vanished into the depths.

Conclusion: A Chilling Revelation
The group was ultimately spared by Traum’s quick thinking, using a gaseous cloud to lead the survivors back to the safety. If the group survived, they owed to the Spirit Shaman. While the fallen ranger was not avenged, the party returned with the heavy knowledge that they were now dealing with an Arachne - a warped and formidable threat to the forest.For Mendel, the mission provided a profound vantage point into the hearts of the sisters of the Dark Maiden; witnessing their bravery, loyalty, and battle prowess firsthand, served as absolute proof that goodness can be found in any race, even among the drow.

From the solitude of his tree-top perch, Mendel watches the settlement below while the distant murmur of the woods provide a rhythmic backdrop to his thoughts. The unsettling news of the elven patrol’s movements and the whispers trailing in their wake have reached his ears, prompting him to pick up his quill and seek the only vantage point that truly matters: his connection to home.

Nai,

I am whole.

The time away has not been easy, and the distance between us often feels like an unbroken line of longing that stretches too far. However, the path has led me to some old friends - Lambe and Shandril being the latest ones. Many have been asking after you with great fondness. Even here, so far from the High Forest, your spirit is remembered.

I must tell you of the situation I find myself in. I have been working alongside the Eilistraeans - or more accurately, we have been helping each other. We were fighting against our ancient enemy, the Lolthite drow. However, rumors have already begun to spread that I am collaborating with them. While I have not been officially identified, I have no doubt that these whispers will eventually be used against me by those who prefer the comfort of old grudges over the truth of the present.

I will admit, that a sense of guilt had begun to settle over me lately. While being away from you, I found myself attending beautiful festivals and enjoying the company of others - for a moment, the rhythm of life felt light, and I felt a bit of shame for finding joy while you were not by my side. But the latest events and these mounting rumors have given me a new, sharpened purpose.

History writes itself, and once again, I find myself standing on the side of good against an ancient evil. I do not just believe this; I have seen it with my own eyes during our latest mission into the dark. The elven patrol that shadowed us should have seen it too, if they had the courage to look truly.

Still, like always, I will not give up. I will continue to fight for what is good, regardless of the labels they try to pin on me. And when all is said and done - when the shadows are driven back and the forest is at peace - I will go to collect from those who stood against me while I was fighting for the light.

Until I can return to the High Forest and your side, keep the song of the woods alive.

Your Mendriel

En Dharasha Everae resonated with much curious chattering in the evening of the 13th of Mirtul, as the local mage Natariel provided a tour of the arboreal settlement to a pair of Moon Elven guests, alongside the shaman Tramahsthas.
The four walked through the main paths of the town, and then visited its various facilities, including the magic school, the council chamber, and the local shrine to the Leaflord. Various subjects were touched during their visit, mostly pertaining to the nature and history of the settlement and its people, the local foods, and its points of commonality and divergence from the other major elven town that the twins had recently visited, Doron Amar. There was also supposedly a long and spirited conversation about semantics that kept the group in the summoning chambers of the magic school for quite a while...

The visit appeared to be all in all pleasant, and the twins seemed eager to return to the village in the future, marking a spot in the forest path outside for such an eventuality. Once their visit was complete, the two visitors departed, teleporting away. They would be witnessed later the same day in the Manorborn District, talking with a prominent member of the Sunite clergy.

A Ranger's Many Faces It had been a brutal couple of days, and Mendel was more than eager to finally return to the familiar canopy of the Misty Forest. The grueling scouting mission at River's End was behind him, and though it had hopefully provided the vital intelligence needed for the upcoming decision-making, a couple of heavy events from the trail kept playing on his mind during the long journey home. He couldn't shake the memory of his companions' faces and their discomfort when he had ruthlessly severed the head of the fallen orc scout. With no Speak with the Dead spell immediately available, Mendel had simply done what logic dictated was necessary to secure answers. Cut the head and question it later. Their unsettled expressions vividly reminded him of the High Druid’s similarly shaken reaction to his unfiltered words in a meeting a few days earlier. But Mendel didn't mind, he was outspoken and fiercely pragmatic, a side of him that stood in plain view for everyone and occasionally rubbed softer souls the wrong way.

Then there was the tragedy at the civilian cabin. Discovering the slaughtered family hadn't been an objective of their mission, yet Mendel had stubbornly insisted on halting to bury them and mark their graves. When his tracking skills uncovered a fresh set of the killer's prints, he was instantly ready to hunt the monster down. He wanted to deliver justice for those who could no longer ask for it, even if a burning thirst for raw vengeance was what truly drove his steps. This fiercely protective, loyal streak was a hidden side of him - one that only his closest brothers and sisters-at-arms ever witnessed. It was a sanctity reserved for the Harpers, a select few rangers within the Enclave, and his tight-knit inner circle deep within the elven village.

Now, the towering tree line of the Misty Forest finally materialized on the horizon. Typically, catching sight of his home brought Mendel an unclouded sense of peace, but ever since Nai had recently returned to the Coast, his homecomings were tangled with a bittersweet mixture of intense anticipation and quiet fear. It was a persistent, nagging dread that she might have suddenly felt the pull to return to the High Forest. Even though he logically knew Nai would never vanish without a word, the anxiety always lingered in the back of his mind. Yet, as he approached their usual, secluded sanctuary, the tension evaporated instantly. There she was.



In that brilliant moment, the looming threat at River's End and the dark problems of the world ceased to matter. Standing before her, the hardened tracker let all his armor dissolve, revealing a completely vulnerable, defenseless side of his soul that no one else on Faerûn had ever been permitted to see, and he didn't mind it one bit. He stood lost in his own thoughts, drinking in the sight of her, until her voice softly broke the silence of the clearing.

"Mendriel, why him just stands there?"

With a genuine smile replacing the grim stoicism of the trail, he shook off the heavy ghosts of the past few days and walked closer to her. The long march was over, and he was finally back where he belonged, stepping into what would easily be the best part of his day.