Chapter 5-B: Bryn Shander (Geldenstag's Rest)
"At its core, yes. Though the events and trappings that surrounded that endeavor were another matter entirely..." Mallory remarked dryly as she settled in for a long talk.
Before that, however, she sorted about through her satchel not only for gifts but for demonstrative items; she'd collected quite a bit from The Spire and elsewhere, and much of it would help in elaborating on her tale. For the gifts, however; Mallory withdrew two plump persimmons - one handed to Dannika and the other, after a brief glance to spot Myrtle peering from around a corner, was gently lobbed the eavesdropper's way. She could take it as an apology or a bribe how she pleased, so long as she didn't skulk about too much. For the Chwinga, meanwhile - it didn't eat, but Mallory produced a small cloth bundle which contained three tiny little outfits. Doll's clothing, finely stitched and dyed - a lovely (if out-of-season) yellow summer dress, a simple tunic and sash set that looked to be akin to the fashions of Cormyrean Elves, and a sturdy, high-collared woolen long coat with the tiniest of tiny brass buttons stitched along its lapel. She laid the outfits out on the tabletop before the Chwinga with a smile and a gently encouraging nod for it to help itself, should it please.
Dannika, meanwhile, received a pristine - albeit aged - tome which lacked an author's name but featured the promisingly lurid title of 'From Ghouls to Ghosts'. "This is actually quite a lovely read, even before bedtime. Whomever the author may be, they have a wonderful knack for interesting turn of phrase. Given your study of odd creatures, I immediately thought of you when I came across this, darling."
From the satchel came a small stack of other tomes - far, far older and written in dense Loross. A carefully managed spellbook filled not only with arcane knowledge but maddened scribbles and screeds. Delicate potion bottles recovered both from long-locked Netherese storage and strangely manifested magical means still beyond Mallory's precise knowing. And along with it all came a tale. A long, involved, accented with conjured illusions and likely repeatedly side-tracked-by-questions tale. While Mallory took care to not let Myrtle overhear too much - Astre was very good at keeping an eye on her and warning Mallory as needed - Dannika was otherwise told everything. In past recounting to various people, even Vellynne Harpell herself, Mallory had held her tongue and not revealed the full extent of her experiences. But Dannika was given the full story since they'd last parted ways from Bryn Shander.
The strange happenings of Caer-Dineval, the meeting of Vellynne and Idrianthe, the unusual circumstances of finding The Spire. Mallory spoke of her personal quest to find the lost mercenary adventurers left to their awful fate by Dzaan and his Simulacrum. She spoke of the trio of Bugbears they'd befriended and of their alleged town of Karkolohk, of all the bizarre wonders and mysteries The Spire itself contained within its fractalized, upside-down halls. Of the dangers - the encounters with the Ceremorphized Bulette and near-death experiences. Of the ancient engineering and combination of magics that featured within The Spire's relic, half-submerged in a pool of black acid and potentially forever lost. Of poor Miss Apple and the horrid Pearl of Hadar. Of Shield Guardian Amulets, of Infernal Iron containing the soul of the very same Wight that had nearly killed Dannika prior, of Gnomish Illithids and a lost Goblinoid friend slain by their cruelty. Mallory spoke of cannibals and lycanthropes, of Dragons and skeletons, of conversations with dead spirits called back from beyond, of the wonders of the Host Tower's archives, of the charming company of those such as Harai and Colmarr.
In past reports and summaries - to Dannika and others alike - Mallory had a knack for keeping things dry and curt for the sake of professionalism. But as she spoke with Dannika again after so long, the words just tumbled out of her painted lips with every drop of emotion they'd come with. The fear, the anxiety, the anger... everything the young noble had pushed away from her thoughts in order to try and just keep going. Her feelings of affection for the likes of Rhydd, of admiration and respect for Khulekani and Idrianthe and Farwalker; her steadfast allies who had risked so much at her request and whom she felt she could never truly repay. She felt as though she needed to get it all out. To give her thoughts and words to someone else to carry on... because, after The Spire, what had been a mere abstract fear to Mallory prior had been brought into crystal clarity: she very well might not make it out of Icewind Dale alive. The idea that she may be lost to the cold and snow like all the other things she'd faced thus far, that her family may never know what became of her otherwise... she couldn't abide by it. So everything was shared with Dannika, both an avid scholar and - at least by the young noble's heart - a fast friend. One she could trust would make sure such a story would not fall to the wayside.
It was the culmination of that whole, strange, involved retelling that the full weight of it all came to bear with the last revelation. One that Mallory made absolutely certain Myrtle was not within earshot of. Mallory spoke of her visit to the Winter Palace in Luskan, of her lengthy discourse with Father Mathur, and how it confirmed the truth of her final experiences within The Spire. When she and the others cowered within her conjured pocket space while an entity far beyond them stalked the halls with frozen steps. "I don't want to believe it, honestly. Were it just the fears of the local towns, were it only Father Mathur's zealous faith, I'd still doubt it. But I saw her, Dannika. She practically passed within arm's reach." Mallory's words were hushed and her eyes unfocused as she recalled so vividly the cold in the air at the Frostmaiden's approach and the blast of frost she'd witnessed through Astre that had temporarily doomed her poor Tressym. "Auril is here, fully manifested upon this same Plane along with the rest of us. Yet, the strangest thing is I... for all the terror I've felt time and again, for the way I cowered from her gaze... I... when I think of her, I don't feel afraid. I should, but... I don't. And I don't know why."