Monster Party Book 1: I hunt therefore I am!
Chapter Ten: First you get down on your knees, fiddle with your rosaries...
The six adventurers got into the basket with varying degrees of exuberance. Once they were all in, James reached out and gave the ropes a slight tug. The ropes tightened, bu the basket remained firmly planted on the ground.
"Guess we weigh too much for them to lift all of us at once. I'll step out and let you guys go up without me, and if they decide to drop you all halfway up I promise I'll scrape whatever is left off you off the ground and give you a proper funeral!" The alchemist offered.
He got one leg over the side of the basket before Alexander's right hand closed on his shoulder like a vice.
"We'll all go up together. Mirri, James see if you can't lighten our load somewhat." The two nodded, and Mirri promptly transformed into a swirl of mist while James shrunk down to his cat form.
Alexander gave the ropes another tug and with the basket's weight decreased by something close to a third it now began to rise upwards. Slowly but surely the basket made the journey all the way up the side of the mountain.
The only hiccup came when they were about 90% of the way to the top when it suddenly stopped moving. The basket swayed back and forth in the stiff winds and Cal clung to it till his fingers turned white expecting at any moment to feel his stomach (among other things) drop out form beneath him.
Despite the alchemist's worries eventually the basket began to continue its ascension and completed the journey without further issue.
The group found themselves pulled up into a simple room that had a carefully constructed wooden balcony/gate around the hole in the floor the basket had entered through. Cal was all too happy to get solid ground underfoot once more, though there was no sign of who had been responsible for raising them up in the first place.
Mirri reformed herself, and James returned to human aspect as the others carefully got out of the basket, all weary of the possible drop below. Once there was no more to be gained from further preparation Alexander carefully eased open the one door in their corridor. On the other side he found an abandoned winch which had clearly been recently in use.
"Huh, guess they're the shy type." Cal reflected still amazed that he had managed that particular trip in one piece.
Devi however was drawn to the collection of barrels stacked in the corner, she pulled the lid off one and found a great many salted fish in surprisingly good shape.
"Well, whoever runs this place they seem to be a great deal more considerate than Doctor Fran lead me to believe." She reflected.
The greatest discovery of all however was made by Mirri as she attempted to head further inwards to the monastery.
One moment she was heading forward with her normal confident stride, the next it was as if she'd walked right into an invisible stone wall.
"Huh... faith barrier." She muttered poking away at the seemingly empty air which none the less supported her weight quite firmly no matter how much pressure she put on it.
"Whoever runs this place, they must at the very least mean well, or else I'd be able to walk right in and feel at home. As is... well have fun storming the monastery!" Mirri offered before seating herself atop the winch as the rest of the building was clearly too holy for her to enter without an invitation.
James looked like he was tempted to stick with her but a twitch of Alexander's wrist signaling for him to follow and his own innate curiosity won out in the end. As the five living members of the group proceeded deeper into the monastery they found still more signs of its recent occupation.
As they passed into library there were three books left laying on tables opened to some seemingly random page. Even more "damming" was a piece of parchment set down with an ink pot next to it. Someone seemed to have either been composing (or recording) a hymn, but either way one conclusion was obvious.
"Ink is still wet on the parchment." Cal reflected, his skill at picking out all things chemical rising to the forefront.
"Looks like we had better tread carefully. They seem to be giving us the benefit of the doubt, lets try not to abuse it." The dryad pointed out.
"Well before we can possibly have any meaningful interactions we need to find them." Cal reminded her.
Then he causally picked up the bottle of ink, and dumped it atop the parchment, making sure to do it in exaggerated manner that would cause the sound to carry as loudly as possible.
"Was that really necessary?" Florence demanded, clearly irritated with the blond haired man's flippant actions.
"Hey, it's not like I tried to burn the entire place down..." Cal shrugged.
A moment later they heard a shock gasping sound from above.
A figure in a heavy blue robe who had been watching them from some hidden alcove on the library's second floor and was obviously quite distressed by Cal's actions. The person in question had their robe's hood pulled up over its head making it hard to see much of the wearer's face. All that it was possible to make out were cracked and discolored lips.
"Glad to see we're not really alone, now how about we move onto some polite conversation next?" Cal suggested still showing no regret for his prior actions.
In response the monk raised two fingers to his lips, backs of the digits outward.
"Vow of silence?" Alexander inquired, taking a not so wild guess as to what that particular gesture meant.
The hooded figure nodded eagerly.
"Is there anyone here in this place who hasn't taken one?" Alexander further inquired.
Still more nodding.
"Would it be a terrible imposition for you to lead us to them?" He pointed out while stamping a booted foot to show his impatience.
The monk descended down the spiral staircase and then motioned for Alexander and the others to follow. The five followed, as they were one and all aware that directly disobeying even nonverbal commands from mystical monks for no particular reason was not the kind of thing that ended well for people in their profession.
Their guide lead them out of the smaller building and out around the side of the monastery before taking them into another building. This one seemed to be some kind of large dinning facility. As they passed through the door someone called out to them.
"Hello to the honored guests!" Said a hearty bass voice, shattering the silence of the monastery.
The group turned in its direction and saw a priest walking towards them as fast as his plump figure and billowing robes would allow. Unlike his fellows he wore his hood down revealing his gray hair and the warm eyes.
"I'm terribly sorry about your somewhat less than conventional welcome, but as you might guess we don't get many visitors." The monk pointed out.
"Can't imagine why." Cal deadpanned.
The monk who like so many of his kind was blessed with a seemingly endless capacity to endure sarcasm and just kept right on going.
"My name is Father Milhouse. I'm in charge of this monastery. I welcome you to our chapter of the Order Of the Guardians." He intoned warmly.
Alexander's left eye bulged out slightly as the silver haired man was clearly taken by surprise for a moment. Then he recovered as things fell into place in his mind.
"The Order of the Guardians... well that explains why we've been told that you worshiped an evil artifact." James hesitantly raised a hand in confusion.
"Um Alex, if you know what's going on, could you fill the rest of us in?" The werecat suggested.
Alexander sighed heavily for a moment and then looking around was momentarily reminded that there were only five adventurers present.
"Father, before I explain, as best as I can, there's one minor matter that we need to attend to. We have another companion. She being a lady of deep convictions had no desire to intrude upon your home without a direct invitation and thus possibly commit some slight against your order. From your warm greeting would I be correct to assume that all who come peacefully are welcome within these walls?" Alexander asked, clearly feeling no reluctance to mislead on the subject why Mirri needed an invitation.
Father Milhouse nodded and gestured at the other monk who they had followed here.
"You are indeed correct. Brother Sime, it seems we might have another guest waiting for us by the lift. Please show her in while I discuss matters with those who have already arrived. " He commanded.
The hooded monk bowed his head and departed without further ado.
"Now then father, since my younger friend is sadly not as well versed in the nature of some religious orders as I happen to be, I'll fill him in, and you can correct me if I am mistaken in any matters." Alexander offered.
Father Milhouse nodded briefly, while he was under no vow of silence he clearly had some experience holding his tongue all the same.
"James, the Order of the Guardians are one of the few religious groups I have much in the way of affection for. That's because they make it their job to make our job easier. Whenever some evil villain goes and invents or discover some sort mystical doodad that needs to be inserted into flange 47 of their doomsday device, the Order of the Guardians does what they can to get their hands on the thing and keep it locked away for as long as possible.
Sadly, the fact that they tend to spend their lives clustered around evil artifacts can lead to people getting the wrong idea." Alexander explained.
"That is rather the gist of it." Father Milhouse admitted nodding along with his guest's words.
"So do you actually have the Table of Life?" Devi inquired rather briskly.
Father Milhouse winced slightly.
"Yes, it has been my sacred duty to guard that object ever since I and some of my brave companions were able to retrieve it from some thieves who thankfully did not realize just what a horror they had laid their hands upon. I lay awake some nights worrying about what might have happened if someone less stalwart who was aware of its true nature came upon it first." The monk said gravely.
"So do you know what the Table of Life actually does?" Devi wanted to know, given than Doctor Fran had been rather sparse on the details of that nature to say the least.
Father Milhouse hung his head for a moment but then it came up and he remained as open as ever.
"The Table of Life, honestly none of us are truly sure of all the powers it posses. Asides from its own apparent indestructibility it also seems to grant anyone who sits or is otherwise secured to it immortality." As he spoke the monk's eyes shifted back and forth slightly as if unsure of who else might be listening.
"Well that doesn't sound so bad. What makes a hunk of rock that keeps people alive so bad?" James pondered in confusion.
"It grants immortality, and nothing else, and only as long as one sits upon it. We had heard stories, and we preformed only a few paltry experiments using a captured bird.
Those, those were more than enough.
They are immortal, but in no way protected from either harm or pain. If I had known just how powerful it was... there are times that the sight of that poor dismembered beast, it's heart still beating after it had been pulled form its chest keeps me awake at night.
We had to know just what we were dealing with though. That is why the Table of Life must remain here until we discover a way to destroy it." He ruminated his face growing darker as he discussed just what sort of mystical powers they item they had been sent to retrieve possessed.
"Does it have any power to cause diseases?" Alexander demanded, hoping that he hadn't been sent on a wild goose chase after an admittedly still evil artifact, but one that might have nothing to do with shape altering plague which still haunted the island.
"Now that you mention it, in recent years, there have been some prevalent cases of skinrot and a few other diseases of a similar nature that I can not find the name for infecting my companions. It seems that I am the only one who had been spared that particular brand of suffering, either by the strength of my faith or the perverse designs of the Mists. That is the reason why I am the only one who cares to wear my hood down you see." Given what little they had been able to make of the other monks appearances had been far from pleasant it was not hard in the least to believe him.
Still, this particular knowledge brought a dark joy to Alexander's heart, reassuring him that the Table of Life might yet lay at the heart of this island's suffering.
"Well then given that you apparently built this entire place just to keep it contained I don't suppose you'd be willing to lend it to use for a week or so?" Cal asked half seriously.
"No." Father Milhouse sounded like it would be impossible for him to be any more definitive on that particular point.
Before he could go any further more blue robed figures began to stream into the room, and he waved for Alexander and the others to join him at the table.
"Come, let us share lunch together and talk of less morbid matters. Meals are one of the rare times my brothers and sisters are not bound by their vow of silence." He offered.
The adventurers accepted quickly exchanging names in the process and soon enough the monks had set out plates, utensils and cups before them.
Plates, utensils, cups, and nothing more.
If Father Milhouse or any of his followers found this unnatural they showed no sign of it, instead preferring to make scant amounts of small talk amongst themselves in voices that were clearly dry and dusty from rarely being used.
After this bizarre interplay had gone on for about two minutes Cal wasn't going to take any more of it.
"So by any chance is the Order of the Guardian and offshoot of the teachings of Zhakata the Devourer?" He asked in a voice loud enough to be heard all across the room.
Utter silence was left in the wake of his pronouncement until father Milhouse could bring himself to speak.
"What could bring you to say such blasphemous things?" He demanded.
Cal drummed the fingers of his right hand against his empty plate, and his left dealt his glass a slight slap making it teeter back and forth displaying how there was no liquid in it to slosh about.
"Just that otherwise it doesn't much sense to invite us to a meal, and then forget to provide the actual food and drink." The alchemist responded.
Father Milhouse's ruddy features paled.
"The food and drink! Of course, how silly of me! Brother Pavlov please go to the basement for some wine, Sister Beryl please go to the lift house and bring some fish back with you!" Just as the two monks were leaving for these particular tasks Mirri arrived.
(Scene Break)
Mirri slowly and tenderly inched her way into the dinning hall clearly feeling ill at ease about her surroundings. She looked this way and that as if expecting some invisible undetectable force of raw goodness to strike her at any moment.
As none arrived she began to approach James even going so far as to give a feminine curtsey to the monk who was currently seated to his right.
"If I may?" She requested.
The monk mumbled something respectful and arose from his seat allowing the vampire to plant herself next to her companion of choice.
That done she turned to their leader.
"I appreciate you allowing me into your sanctuary father. I must admit that I am surprised you have managed to keep it sanctified so long after your own death."
"WHAT?" Father Milhouse blustered arising from his chair, his already ruddy cheeks now redder still.
Mirri's eyebrows shot up in in surprise.
"What? It was a compliment, many of the ancient dead are seen as abominations in the eyes of the deities they once worshiped and their divine powers become warped and twisted., but that hasn't happened here." She clarified.
Father Milhouse stormed over to Mirri.
"I object not to your compliments on the purity of I an my fellows' faith but what your morbid and uncalled for comments concerning our supposed deaths!" He blustered.
Mirri blinked a few times as she looked the holy man up and down.
"Look I have nothing against ancient dead, or as most peasants huddling by the fireside call them, 'mummies' a term which clearly is not applicable in this situation given the lack linen bindings and what not. That said, it's not mentally healthy to unlive in denial." She insisted as if unable to believe that it was even necessary to have this particular conversation.
"The unhallowed land which surrounds our temple may have brought several unpleasant maladies upon my brothers and sisters of the order but we have remained strong of faith and have not perished." Father Milhouse insisted.
Mirri stood up bringing herself to eye level with the holy man.
"Now look, I've had just about enough of this foolishness. Your souls are no longer part of your being! They have ceased to be connected! You have expired, magic is all that keeps you from going stiff! You are bereft of life, ready to rest in peace. If you were not on atop a barren mountain you would be pushing up the daises! Your metabolic process are now history, you've kicked the bucket, shuffled off your mortal coils. You are dead, demised, become true experts on the afterlife, YOU ARE AN EX-MONK!" Mirri shouted back, refusing to be cowed by Father Milhouse.
Father Milhouse had other ways of bringing this particular argument to an abrupt close however.
"OUT!" He demanded thrusting a finger at Mirri.
"DEPART AT ONCE FROM THIS HOLY PLACE!" He demanded.
A moment later he got his wish, it was as if some unseen hand had suddenly grasped Mirri about the back of the collar and tossed her from the room her body propelled to a nearly ludicrous speed as it whizzed through the air.
The silence that fell upon the dinning table in the wake of that disturbance was far greater than that which had accompanied the monk's simply filing into the room. It was only broken when Cal Wright slowly reached into one of his pockets and pulled forth a finely crafted time peace.
"Father if I might ask for a pearl of your wisdom in regards to the healing arts?" Cal requested.
Father Milhouse still seemed angry, but the alchemist' comments had done at least a little to move the topic back onto safer grounds.
He willing walked around the table to Cal's side.
"Yes?" He intoned in a somewhat strained voice.
"I have concerns as to the rapidity of my heart's movements. Using this time piece could you count how many times it strikes in a minute?" He inquired in the most polite tone of voice anyone had heard Cal use in a very long time.
"Certainly." Father Milhouse placed his hands against Cal's arm and watched the hands of the time piece tick their way completely around its face.
"Something close to a seventy I believe." Cal nodded and then pushed the time piece slightly so that it would be even closer to the holy man.
"I believe that's more or less to natural, but to have us be certain would you mind comparing it to your own?" He inquired.
Father Milhouse nodded rolled back his sleeve, placing a perfectly healthy looking hand against his completely normal looking arm. Then he waited listening intently for the movements of his own heart.
He waited and the only sound which filled his ears was the ticking of the alchemist's timepiece. There was not the slightest bit of movement or sound coming from within his body.
The red flush of anger drained from his face and was replaced with growing pallor.
"Either... either your time piece has malfunctioned, or am I deceased." He eventually declared.
Consternation filled the dinning hall as voice seldom rarely used struggled to rise to the tone of proper outrage and horror.
Sensing the need to regain control of the situation Father Milhouse scooped up the time peace and slid it across the table to one of his followers.
"Sister Gamaliel, you may confirm my findings if you please." The female monk nodded, and using the time peace tried to take the measure of her own heartbeat.
She might as well have tried to measure the length of her shadow while standing directly beneath the noonday sun.
"Nothing." She gasped her voice sounding hoarse and weak.
"I think you may owe one of my companions an apology." Alexander offered in as tactful a tone as he could manage.
"I think I might owe her a great deal more than that..." Father Milhouse admitted.
"For the moment the most important thing we can do is get to the bottom of this..." The silver haired man reflected as he stood up.
Then Alexander slowly pulled back the hood Brother Sime wore.
Without the blue fabric to get in the way it was possible to get a good look at him, his face was cadaverous and gray but still whole and not yet given over to the riggers of decomposition. He looked as if he could have passed for a living human only among those who were feeling generous.
"Your arms." Father Milhouse commanded.
The monk pulled back the sleeve, and it was possible to see that his arms were host to several unpleasant looking pustules whose contents did not bear ruminating upon.
"That will be enough." Father Milhouse concluded with a tired shake of his head.
"So you really didn't notice that you had died up until now?" Devi asked with only marginally more tact than Mirri had shown.
"No, I didn't have a reason to." The leader of the group declared once again pulling back his own sleeve, to display how his features did not even bear Mirri's traditional pale skin tone to visually denote his status as undead.
"When was the last time you dreamed?" James pipped up.
There was a resounding silence around the room.
"Undead don't dream." The werecat declared with some a great deal of (most likely well warranted) certainty.
"The entire not needing to eat thing, that's sort of a clue also." Cal added a touch contemptuously.
"Not that I'm trying to rub your face in it, but people who are still alive tend to need to do that." He muttered given that the monk Father Milhouse he had dispatched to gather fish had still not returned.
"I assumed it might be some offshoot of the Table of Life, and the worse truth is I was probably right. I failed to realize just how pervasive it's presence has become." Father Milhouse reflected dourly.
"We shall be patient and give our still living guests a chance to eat, but after that, after that Alexander Diamondclaw I fear that you see the Table of Life for yourself. Normally it would be impossible for me to allow it to be removed from this monastery, but its destruction must take precedence above all else." The undead monk declared. Unsurprisingly none of his followers spoke out against him.
(Scene Break)
The fish was still surprisingly fresh, the wine well aged (if vinegary) and all said the meal could have been worse.
Once it had been completed Father Milhouse began to lead to lead the five adventurers (Mirri steadfastly refused to leave the marginally less sanctified lift house and give Father Milhouse another chance to divinely eject her all over again.
That number soon fell down to four as underneath his hat James Firecat's ears twitched.
Deep in the barley lit catacombs beneath the monastery all manner of vermin bread. He had already feasted upon deer earlier than day, but for James catching rats was frequently less about feeding and more a personal crusade.
He fell further and further behind the others till he finally dropping to all fours and racing off in his housecat form.
Father Milhouse's remaining guests were eventually lead to a heavily barred and locked room. He lifted the bars, and openings the lock with a series of keys buried deep within his robes. Then he slowly stepped into a small grotto lit by an unearthly glow.
In the middle of it was a large slab of greenish-black marble shot through with thin veins of gold, it was eight feet across and six inches thick. The surface was smooth and polished to perfection. The Table of Life hovered few inches or so off the ground and was surrounded by a strange radiant mist.
"Here is what we have guarded for so long. If you can destroy it be my guest." Father Milhouse offered.
Alexander slowly approached the mystical object and his blade won its way free from its sheath.
"This thing is obviously a powerful artifact, but there aren't that many things in the world that can stand up to a good solid blow from me and Wolf Claw." The silver haired man promised.
His blade descended.
WHAM!
Alexander's sword struck the Table of Life a mighty blow. His entire body rocked backwards and he lost his grip on the blade which flew his hands and slammed into a wall of the chamber sticking into it and vibrating slightly.
"There aren't many things... but there are a few." He admitted ruefully before turning about to go retrieve his weapon of choice.
(Scene Break)
James' nose drew in a deep breath and his tail quivered, there were was a rat, make that rats down here he was sure of it.
Not only that, but there weren't any other cats, and honestly that was pretty silly! Did these monks want to spend all their free time hunting rats?
As far as James was concerned no temple or monastery was ever complete without a cat, but on the other hand given his beliefs in Bastet he was willing to admit that he was just a bit biased on that front.
As he padded silently through the darkness he came upon another member of the Order of the Guardians. "Hey don't mind me, I'm just here to hunt rats!" James cried out happily.
Granted given that he was in his fully feline form the words were rendered as nothing more than a traditional collection of feline meows but keeping his tongue still had never been James' strongest suit.
The monk turned and looked at him. James couldn't see much but his eyes were so keen that what he did was more than enough.
He turned and ran as fast as he could, rats were the least of his problems now!
End Chapter
FN: This chapter reveals (at least if I wrote it right) one interesting piece of information about our "heroes"... while Mirri is probably the most evil... Cal is a much bigger d**k.
To put it in TV tropes terms (I won't link don't worry, you only have yourselves to blame if you loose several hours of your life)
Mirri is a Sociopathic Hero who was probably not the nicest person when she was alive and being turning into a vampire (plus a all the time she spent unliving as one) unsurprisingly shrunk her monkey sphere (the group of people she thinks about as people rather than as abstractions) even further. Cal on the other hand is just an unashamed Jerkass (granted one with a Heart of Gold).
Once again enjoy the cliff hanger till next week/whenever the next chapter is ready