"Elwin, you've got me curious," the centaur said softly. "Your name means 'friend to the elves' doesn't it? There aren't many elves in Thay, so that must mean you're not a native Thayvian."
"You're pretty smart, centaur," Elwin mumbled, sitting up and brushing the grass and dirt from his side. He yawned, displaying his broken teeth. "I'm originally from the Sword Coast… worked on a pirate ship. A few years ago, our ship started hauling slaves to Thay. I got to like this place, so I stayed." He winked at Wynter. "The orchard patrol pays well, and I do a little slaving on the side-children."
Wynter was losing his patience with the evil man. "Elwin," he said evenly, "does your slaving operation ever take you into Amruthar?"
"It takes me a lot of places," Elwin answered, sounding businesslike. "Amruthar's only one of 'em. Largest city around here. Two or three times a week, slaves are shipped in and put up for sale. They're cheaper than cattle."
"Amruthar," Wynter pressed angrily, not wanting to hear another word about Elwin's slave practices. "What is the city like now? Are the streets patrolled? Can slaves on missions for their masters walk freely? Who rules the city?"
Elwin sighed. "I've never been hassled much in the city. If you haven't done anything to offend a wizard or tharchion, you should be all right."
"Are there many centaurs?"
"Like you? Not many are as big as you," Elwin said, "but there are plenty of your type walking around."
The man sickened Wynter. The centaur believed every being had a right to choose his or her own course in life. Elwin had chosen his course long ago, but the slaves he and others in Thay dealt in could not choose. And Elwin seemed to think of them as nothing but a commodity.
"We're looking for a Red Wizard who's supposed to be in Amruthar," Wynter continued.
"A Red Wizard? There's plenty of 'em in Amruthar. Plenty all over Thay, for that matter," Elwin said with a snicker.
"His name's Maligor," Galvin interjected. "The gnoll said the Red Wizard Maligor was staying in Amruthar."
There was silence in the clearing. The charmed man nervously rubbed his scarred chin and looked at each of his companions.
"You're in over your heads," Elwin said. "Maligor's a zulkir. I ain't taking you to no zulkir. But I'll take you to the outskirts of Amruthar."
Wynter's right front hoof pawed at the ground. "Go to sleep, Elwin," the centaur stated.
In a few moments, the man was snoring again. Exhaustion also overcame Brenna, and a few minutes later her head fell to the damp, mossy floor in uneasy slumber.
Galvin and Wynter talked quietly for a while, discussing the best route to the city. They were hopeful they could move into Amruthar, get the information the Aglarond council and the Harper organization wanted, and then move out within a day or two.
In a short time, the Harpers decided it was time for them to rest, too. They discussed who should take first watch; neither Harper felt comfortable about leaving the small group unprotected. In the end, Galvin decided he would stay awake. But as the centaur chose a spot to sleep, his keen nostrils picked up a disturbing, almost imperceptible smell, reminiscent of something from his childhood. The breeze was carrying the scent of rotting flesh into the clearing. Finally, with a jolt, he recognized the smell.
"Galvin! Undead!" Wynter called, alerting the druid and waking Brenna and Elwin.
The druid's eyes peered into the darkness, searching. He smelled them first, then saw their decaying bodies coming ever nearer. At first glance, the figures appeared human, and in life they might have been. But now their flesh was gray and decomposing, and it clung to their bones like tattered sails on a mast. Their hair appeared wirey, tangled, and bug-ridden, and their deep-socketed eyes, seemingly devoid of intelligence, bore straight ahead into the clearing. They were moving in through the trees, slowly making their way past the tangled branches.
"They've surrounded us!" the druid called. He cursed himself for not hearing their approach. How could he have been so careless? The undead were halfway through the brambles and would be on the group in moments. In the darkness, Galvin couldn't be certain how many there were, but he guessed there were at least a dozen. Grimly he drew his scimitar.
Out of the corner of his eye, Galvin saw the centaur move toward the shambling corpses on the other side of the clearing, his staff thrust out in front of him as if to keep them at bay. Brenna was rising and reaching into her small bag, no doubt planning to use some magic on them. He hoped it would work.
"Elwin, wake up!" the sorceress ordered as she continued searching through her bag. Her hands shook terribly. Brenna had heard and read about the undead, but she had never expected to meet any of them. She glanced over her trembling shoulder. The petrified slaver was awake and was pulling two daggers from the strap around his chest, crouching to meet the charge of the undead.
The creatures stumbled through the trees and bushes, the pale, rotting flesh on their bones catching and clinging to the branches. The stench from the walking cadavers was overpowering and made the Harpers and Brenna dizzy.
Most of the corpses' hands were intact; their fingers were bony and ended in long, filthy nails that curved in toward their palms like claws. Their eyes glowed a hellish, dull yellow-orange.
The first undead broke into the clearing and lunged at Wynter, its long arms flailing to scratch the centaur's body. Its mouth opened and a thin, snakelike tongue darted out and uncoiled in the air. The centaur cringed. Ghouls! he thought, staring at the tongue used for sucking marrow out of bones. To be killed by a ghoul meant to become one of their kind-provided the ghoul pack wasn't hungry and didn't eat you first.
Wynter shouted out to his companions what they were facing and thrust forward with his staff to keep the loathsome creature from touching him. The long, carved staff lodged itself in the caved-in chest of the corpse, making a sickening crunching sound as it splintered brittle ribs. Already dead, the ghoul wasn't to be stopped this easily. With both hands, it grasped the wood and began to pull itself up the staff, hand over hand, unmindful of the wood that pierced through its body and emerged out its back.
In response, Wynter heaved with his great strength, lifting the staff and the ghoul along with it. He swung the staff to the right, slamming the suspended ghoul into another of its foul companions just emerging from the trees. Their bodies collided with a horrifying thud that left both creatures lying stunned on the ground. Continuing his attack, the centaur pulled the staff closer to him, stepped on the attached ghoul, and wrested his weapon free. Then he proceeded to trample the two on the ground, turning them into a mass of broken, splintered bones and tattered flesh.
Ghouls had broken into the clearing all around them now, presenting Elwin, Brenna, and Galvin with their own battles.
The druid reacted quickly, slicing forward with his scimitar and cutting one creature nearly in half at the waist. The vile corpse continued to press onward despite the difficulty of staying on its feet while trying to keep its torso from toppling off to the side. As it lurched forward awkwardly, Galvin swung again, this time cleaving off an arm and further unbalancing the thing. It fell forward, squirming on the ground, but another quickly stepped in to take its place.
"Don't let them touch you!" Galvin called to Brenna. "Their touch can paralyze you!"
Although the sorceress didn't have any idea how powerful the undead creatures were, she had no intention of letting these walking corpses get anywhere near her. She backed herself into the center of the small clearing, almost bumping into the druid, who was now fighting two of the things. Placing a pinch of powder in her sweaty palm, she slapped her other hand on top of it, rubbed furiously, and waited for a trio of ghouls to come closer.