The Search for the Circle of Vehlarr: Part Six

Have you ever wondered what makes a werewolf tick? What forces are at work that would make a human ally with such a creature? Designer Steve Miller takes you on a journey of discovery as he leads you ever deeper in the Circle of Vehlarr.

By K. Steven Miller

"So," Arahnar said. "How many times do you think we should get this ring recharged before we kill him?"

"Why don’t we just use all the magic in it and then sell it?" I suggested. "Do you really want to risk him charming you again, perhaps irrevocably? Next thing you know, you’ll be dropping Red Wizard litters."

"No need to get disgusting about it!"

I laughed. We had collected our gear at the campsite where the lovesick Red Wizard had first confronted us, both agreeing that we should put some distance between ourselves and him in case he decided to make another attempt to "woo" Arahnar. The wizard had gotten off easier than he’d probably ever realize, but so had she. There was no reason to tempt fate.

"Where to now?" I asked. "West toward the Wood of Sharp Teeth?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Hold on to me."

I put my hand on her shoulder, a question on my lips, but then the stone walls of a dimly lit cave replaced the trees around us. I shook my head as I squinted at my surroundings, trying to make out details in the pale light that crept in from the cave mouth about ten yards away. "Would you please give me more of a warning next time? I really hate this teleporting stuff."

Arahnar didn’t respond. She was changing into her man-beast form and sniffing at the air.

"Where did you take us?"

"My pack’s home."

"Why? We already knew they weren’t going to be here."

"It’s the closest place to where I think Vehlarr is that I was familiar with," she replied, a strangely distant tone in her voice. "It’s also a safe place. We can take our time reviewing the scrolls we got from Angah Lalla and make sure we know where we’re going from here. Not to mention a little sleep."

"Now that you mention it, I am tired," I said. "And you sound like you might be, too."

"Yeah." She removed her backpack, still sniffing the air. "No one’s been here for a long time. No one at all."

It dawned on me the tone in her voice was one of sorrow. I’d never seen Arahnar depressed or sad. Until that moment, I hadn’t even considered that she might be capable of such emotions. As my mind searched for some comforting words, I commented lamely, "That means the cave is definitely safe."

When she looked at me her large black eyes seemed to shimmer and her lips drew back from her fangs. She reverted to human form and I realized that she was giving me a weak smile, her eyes wet with unshed tears. I’ve never felt as uncomfortable or so much at a loss for words as I did right then. She turned away from me, saying, "Yeah. We’re safe here. This is the safest place in world. Tomorrow, we’ll find the people who made it that way."

We bedded down on the dusty rock in silence. Sleep was a long time coming for me, my mind refusing to be still, my discomfort growing. Arahnar had been near death when I discovered her in a ditch by the roadside; she had received a beating so savage that she had blocked whoever did it from her mind. She had been completely at my mercy as I nursed her back to health, but even then she had not seemed as vulnerable as she did when she turned to me with tears in her eyes. Deep down, she was just a girl who missed her family, and this softer side was not one that I knew what to do with. It was not one that fit with how I’d come to view her.

My odd discomfort grew even stronger when she started sobbing in her sleep. I started to wonder if it was right for such a frail girl to be facing the dangers that we’d been exposing ourselves to… and then a shocking realization struck me. The discomfort I was feeling was the rational side of me fighting a desire to take her in my arms and tell her that she would never be lonely ever again. I realized that I’d fallen in love with her! Somewhere along the way part of me had stopped considering her a gorgeous young woman whose bad side was really bad and had decided that she was the "right" woman for me.

Yeah, I sure can pick them.

***

I must have eventually drifted off to sleep because I jerked awake as Arahnar nudged me with a foot.

"Get up," she said, standing over me in her stolen Red Wizard robes. "It’s about Midday."

"Why didn’t you wake me earlier?"

"I studied the scrolls some more, and then I did some hunting. You wouldn’t have been much help in either case."

"Fair enough. Did you get a fix on where we need to go from here?"

"I think so. We’ll talk about it after you’ve gotten us some water. I’m thirsty." She turned and kicked a bucket my way. "There’s a stream about 100 yards dead-ahead. I’ll start cooking the rabbit for you."

With the bucket in one hand and my battle axe in the other, I left the cave and headed into the thick forest at the bottom of the slope. Arahnar was back to her normal self, and she’d reminded me that she was a bitch in both senses of the word. I hated it when she got arrogant with me, but as I reached the stream it started occurring to me that I hated the fact that I’d felt awkward about wanting to slap her down for ordering me about even more. I’d gained some insight into why she adopted such airs… she was feeling depressed and insecure and was using me as a "pack-member" on whose back she could boost her spirits. And she had offered to cook me a rabbit, something she’d never done before. Maybe she had started to view me in a more romantic light as well?

As I filled the bucket, my mind swirled with these and other thoughts about how to best approach Arahnar—did she really feel about me as I had started to feel about her?—but then I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I started to turn, but someone struck me square on the back and knocked me face first into the stream. Then someone was straddling my back.

"Welcome home, wolf-boy!" a voice came, muffled by the water. I dug my hands into the rocky bed of the stream and tried forcing myself out of the water. My lungs were already starting to ache. Then I felt a bare foot on my head, forcing my face into the bed of the stream. Whoever was on my back started bouncing up and down, driving what little air I had in my lungs from when as failed to keep myself from gasping.

And then I was drowning….

To Be Continued….

About the Wood of Sharp Teeth and the Lost Cities of Vehlarr and Myth Lahrest

This vast expanse of forest located south of Scornubel and Baldur’s Gate is an unconquered wilderness that derives its name from the abundance of creatures here that are unfriendly to humankind. The only encroachment of civilization has taken place on the forest’s southern edge, where an eccentric dwarf built what is now known as Durlag’s Tower. The dwarf has long since passed on, and the tower has passed through several masters over the decades, many of whom were unable to withstand the onslaught of residents from the Wood of Sharp Teeth.

The forest is a maze of tangled undergrowth and towering duskwood trees, many of which can be seen from the passing caravan route. None of citizenry of Baldur’s Gate dare fell these valuable treasures, because anyone who has tried has found death at the hands of the beings, both intelligent and non-intelligent, that dwell among them.

The Wood of Sharp Teeth is home to a number of intelligent humanoid species. Satyrs are found here in large numbers, as are their reported counterparts, the dryads. It is also believed that a number of wolfwere clans call the Wood of Sharp Teeth home. A small population of werewolves has also lived here for centuries, although in recent decades they have been retreating from the more numerous wolfweres. Legends hold that a ruined city stands forgotten somewhere in the forest’s depth, a city from which a most remarkable werewolf—one who had a talent both for sorcery and for organizing his otherwise chaotic and independent kind under a single banner—had intended to conquer the surrounding area and establish a kingdom where his kind would rule supreme. His dreams of empire crumbled when a mighty wizard—some say Elminster—laid waste to the city.

As with many legends, this one has a basis in truth. The scrolls Arahnar acquired from Angah Lalla (see Parts Two and Three) contain historical fragments copied from a temple devoted to the elven moon goddess Sehanine. They relate the tale of Vehlarr, a highly unusual natural lycanthrope who was an accomplished sorcerer and who was a favored servant of both Malar the Beast Lord and Sehanine the Lunar Lady. With the support and aid of these otherwise antagonistic entities, Vehlarr started to organize the werewolf packs of the Wood of Long Teeth into a coherent nation, even building a fortified city deep within the forest.

Vehlarr had grown increasingly disturbed by the number of lycanthropes that were falling victim to the magical lure that the would-be destroyer of the Shoon Empire, Syri Mhaal, had placed upon Myth Lharast. The deities, too, resented Syri Mhaal’s actions, particularly Sehanine who felt Syri Mhaal had corrupted a city that was built partly in her honor.

In the year 712, with hundreds of werewolf packs organized around him, safely within the city that came to bear his name, for Sehanine blessed the area so it was protected from the Myth Lharast’s magical draw, Vehlarr started drafting plans to strike at Syri Mhaal. Vehlarr knew that he could not attack Myth Lharast without falling victim to the city’s unholy charm effects. Instead, he endeavored to construct a gate that would allow him and his loyal soldiers to enter Myth Lharast directly from Vehlarr’s city. Through secrets revealed to him by Sehanine, he built his gate so it was keyed to the other city’s mythal. The gate, called the Circle of Vehlarr, was completed in 720, and Vehlarr launched his assault in a coordinated attack with the Cowled Conjurers who also sought to stop Syri Mhaal.

Something, however, went wrong. The combined might of the werewolves and the Cowled Conjurers proved not to be a match for Syri Mhaal’s forces. As they were on the brink of defeat, the patience of Selune, the other goddess to whom Myth Lharast had originally been dedicated, came to an end. She blasted the city from the face of the Realms, killing almost all the combatants in the process. Magical energies surged through the Circle of Vehlarr and shattered much of the surrounding city. Without their leader, the werewolves who dwelled there scattered to the four winds rather than attempt to rebuild it.

However, a persistent legend has arisen among the werewolf packs of the Wood of Long Teeth—Vehlarr lives still, existing on another plane where Myth Lharast still exists. Everyone there is un-aging except for the nights of the full moon when the city returns to Aber-Toril and can still be accessed through the Circle of Vehlarr. Unfortunately, no one who has attempted to locate the lost ruins of Vehlarr’s city has ever returned to verify whether there is truth to the story or not. This includes Arahnar’s pack.