Chapter 10: Purification
Charles wandered through the dimly lit halls of the Lord's house, the lanterns barely lighting the hallway as the night grew darker outside the occasional window he passed by. He felt as though he had been walking down the same hallways for hours never arriving at a door, never making progress. But now, finally, the endless hallway had ended in a doorway. He rested his hand, pausing at the door frame, the Lord's study beyond. Unlatching the door and pushing it open slowly with a creak he gazed into the nearly dark room beyond. The moonlight shone through a nearby window on the left, creating a strip of blue light across the front of the room. Beyond the demarcation between light and dark sat the stacks of ancient tomes and papers that made up the library beyond. In front of the stacks sat a pair of soft leather armchairs with a small reading table between them.
In one of the chairs sat an imposing figure, partially concealed by the shadows.
Charles drew back slightly in fear at seeing the mysterious man before peering carefully at the still seated figure. The man's features were hidden by the darkness but as Charles focused, his stance wary, he could see a sharp pair of eyes and a face covered by a trim beard. The figure's right arm, one of the few parts illuminated dimly by the moonlight, was covered in a nobleman's coat of bright crimson with gold tassels, a design he knew quite well.
"G-grandfather?" He asked softly in disbelief.
The figure merely regarded him with grim silence.
"Grandfather? It is you, isn't it?" He asked hesitantly, stepping closer.
The figure seemed to sigh softly. "I was Lord of this place once, before the crows and rats made it their domain." He said in a mournful, timbred voice.
"Grandfather it is you!" Charles exclaimed before hurrying to the chair and kneeling before the older man. "I received your letter! I came to the hamlet like you asked!"
"You answered the letter." The older man said in a strange tone as he peered at Charles. "Now, like me, you are a part of this place." He leaned forward slightly, revealing more of his wrinkled, tired face, his eyes sunken and despondent. "My obsession caused this great foulness and it is shameful that I must now rely upon you to set it right."
Charles's eyes pricked with tears to hear such shame and brokenness in the man's voice, so unlike and incongruous with his childhood memories of the man's robust and stern intonations.
"It will be alright Grandfather!" Charles assured him with quiet conviction. "I will put right what happened here. Already the hamlet is being rebuilt, the buildings sturdy once again!"
The man sighed again. "The degeneracy of the hamlet is nothing, I fear, compared to the condition of the surrounding acres."
Charles nodded. "The infestation of the woods, the men have reported it to me. Rest assured we shall burn out that evil!"
"Your men?" He asked, a spark of interest appearing in his eyes. "You brought others with you?"
Charles nodded. "A Crusader from the Order of St. George and a reformed highwayman, yes. They were the first."
The older man nodded, his face seemingly thoughtful. "A mighty sword-arm anchored by a holy purpose. A zealous warrior to be sure. As for the other...elusive, evasive, and persistent. Righteous traits for a rogue."
Charles nodded. "Indeed they are. Over the weeks others have joined as well. We have a small company of them now. The roads are beginning to clear and the ruins of the cathedral are being cleansed."
The man nodded, settling back into his chair. "You have done well so far, Charles. I am...proud of you, shouldering such a heavy burden without hesitation or regret."
"Tell me what happened, Grandfather, please!" Charles exhorted him. "The letter you sent...I think I understand but...How did all this come about?"
The older man turned his face to look towards the moonlit window, his face pinched and grim.
"All my life, I could feel an insistent gnawing in the back of my mind." The man replied heavily. "It was a yearning, a thirst for discovery that could be neither numbed nor sated. I told you, in the letter, of how I began to tire of conventional extravagance..." He sighed. "In time, you will know the tragic extent of my failings. But you cannot bear it all now. Not as you are...so innocent, so...naive to the truth. The horrors you have seen are but the the tamest of things, teasing, poking, nibbling at the edges of your mind so that you can still comprehend them but soon. ." He said as he turned back to Charles, his eyes bright with terrible prescience. "Soon you will face true horrors, madness beyond all knowing! On that day, I can only hope your mind can bear such terrible wisdom and not shatter like glass!"
"Start from the beginning then." Charles suggested softly. "Tell me of things more...benign."
The older man stroked his beard with a considering look as he studied the young man kneeling before him. A moment later his lips parted in a horrible, maddened smile, his eyes alighting with horrific wisdom.
"Let me share with you the terrible wonders I have come to know…"
Charles sat up with a gasp, sweat covering his brow as the morning sun filtered into his room from the window nearby. His eyes swiftly searched about for the illusive study and the dark figure he had been speaking to just moments ago.
"Grandfather…" He whispered softly.
Later that morning…
Hooves clattered along the rough cobblestone road as the lone horse and its brown-cloaked rider rode towards the hamlet. Clopping over the bridge that spanned the small river the horse trotted over to the inn before the rider reined it in, getting down a moment later. Williams quickly emerged from his house to see what the commotion was, hurrying over to the rider and their horse.
"Good morning! Good morning!" Williams called out as he neared, his coattails flapping behind him. "How can Williams-" He paused when the rider turned, their face clear to him.
"Good lady!" He crowed happily at seeing Gerri's tanned face. "Good lady welcome back!" He said happily, rushing to her and giving her a hug which Gerri returned with a smile, turning her head to avoid the man's horrid breath. "A week it has been, a long week without your smiling face!"
"I'm glad to see you too Williams." Gerri said with a smile. "But at the moment I need to speak with Lord Ezekiel. Do you know where he is?"
Pulling back the man struck a thoughtful pose, scratching the tufts of hair on the side of his head. "Hmmm….Master Charles usually has breakfast now, at the inn he might be, yes, with the others. Shall we see?" He asked eagerly.
Gerri nodded. "Might as well check there first." She suggested.
Entering the inn they found Charles eating with Reynaulds and Al'Bin with a few of the others at another table. Looking up upon hearing the door they smiled at seeing her.
"Welcome back Gerri!" Reynaulds called out. "Come! Join us! Tell us of your trip!"
"Breakfast for the lady if you please!" Charles called over to the tavern keeper who nodded as Gerri sat down next to them.
"How did things go?" Winters asked.
"There's very little to tell." Gerri admitted. "I came back because I received another vision." The Vestal turned to look at Charles. "We must return to the ruins and quickly!"
Charles frowned slightly in confusion at this. "We can certainly do so but might I ask why? What is this vision you beheld?"
"The Light spoke to me in another vision as I slept." Gerri explained. "Because of my obedience to its will in following the first vision it gave me new knowledge I hadn't had before."
"What knowledge is this?" Al'Bin asked curiously.
"The Light has told me of 3 altars that were stolen from the hamlet and were turned by a necromancer of great foulness." Gerri replied. "He resides deep within the catacombs. These altars are boosting the necromancer's power, thanks to the constant sacrifices made upon them by his undead servants. Normally he keeps them close but a day ago he placed them in various spots in the ruins. Places we have access to. If we were to purify the altars they would be rendered useless to the necromancer and the greater powers he wields would be lost to him!"
Charles tapped a finger against his cheek in thought before he looked over to Al'Bin. "Is what she says possible?" At Gerri's annoyed look he held up a hand. "Please, I do not mean to discount what you said but I simply ask as such matters are his specialty."
The swarthy man stroked his dark mustache thoughtfully for a moment. "If the altars were purified properly then the Dark's influence upon them would be disrupted." He agreed thoughtfully. "It concerns me that this sorcerer has suddenly decided to move them into the open. Either he is preparing a ritual that requires them to be in specific places, or he is attempting to draw us into a trap by offering them as bait. Neither of which is good news."
Charles nodded. "I agree but we must take this opportunity the Light has seen fit to warn us about. What would we need to purify these altars? Holy water?"
Frowning in thought for a moment the occultist shook his head. "Holy water would not be enough. If these altars have been desecrated to the extent that they serve the Dark entirely, they will need to be purged with something much more potent. Given our supplies here, the best we can hope for are phials of consecrated essence. It should be just enough to purify them I think."
"Can you prepare such a thing?" Charles asked.
"With Dr. Bellcoat's and Ms. Gerri's help, yes." The man replied seriously. "But we must make haste. The longer we delay the higher the probability the necromancer will complete his ritual. But more than that, assuming this is no trap, once the altars are purified we must attempt to destroy the necromancer himself. He will be weakened by the loss of the altars and will be attempting to reconstruct them via different materials. We can use this distraction against him."
Charles nodded. "So be it then. Once the essences are made we must find the altars in the ruins and consecrate them. Depending on how well things progress we can then delve deeper into the ruins and kill the necromancer while he is weak and confused. I will call for volunteers once they are made."
Breakfast concluded quickly with Al'Bin rounding up Hannah and Gerri to assist in the endeavor while the others continued to practice in preparation for the upcoming assault.
"What will we need in order to formulate this 'essence'?" Hannah asked briskly as the trio made their way to the woman's apothecary.
"We will be using both purified and holy water as a base into which we will immerse various ingredients." Al'Bin explained. "Anything with purity or affiliated with the Light will make the mixture more potent."
"Pure salt is a good place to start." Gerri suggested as they entered the building. "It is often used in certain rituals and does not contain contaminants."
"Anything considered chemically pure then?" Hannah asked pointedly. "Even extracts or substances that are poisonous or toxic when purified?"
Al'Bin considered this carefully for a moment with his brows drawn before nodding. "Anything that is natural from the Earth would not be considered a defilement. Only those substances which are tainted by the Darkness would be considered so."
Hannah began to move aside some of her equipment to make room as she gathered some phials from the nearby shelves. "If we're talking about essences of purity that suggests intent behind the ingredients or reagents used and not actual chemical processes themselves, yes?" She asked Jacques who nodded.
"For such things it is the faith behind those who craft it and the intent for which the mixture is to be used." He explained. "The higher powers themselves assist in the creation to make the potion greater than the sum of its ingredients."
"Right, so what we'll need then are purified cleansing agents." She said intently, pushing her long hair back out of her face as she began to organize the equipment in front of her, her eyes darting back and forth as her mind considered multiple possibilities. "Liquids, powders, herbs, anything that can rejuvenate, clean, scour, or otherwise provide restoration to the subject. The more potent the better. Holy water we have and I have some concentrated acid available. I should be able to distill it further. Hopefully the other ingredients will mix properly with it so we don't end up eating away the altar itself. What about preparations? Ratios of comparative substances? Mixing procedures?" She asked quickly.
"I have such information on a scroll in my rooms." He said. "I can fetch them easily enough."
"I'll get some holy water from Williams and I have a few small pouches of herbs and things as well as some purified salt." Gerri said.
Hannah nodded. "Get going then. I'll check my stores to see what can be added on my end as well."
The pair left with the sorcerer quickly checking through his papers and scrolls while Gerri quickly stopping by the hamlet's store to purchase the largest bottle of holy water Williams had. Jogging from the store to her room in the tavern she quickly gathered up the various pouches and small tins she had brought with her along with a few oil jars. Her arms full she quickly returned to the apothecary to see Hannah boiling some water in a special flask containing an opening at the bottom as well as the top while using an alcohol lamp beneath it for heat. Francine stood nearby, watching as the other plague doctor quickly examined her stores with almost manic energy as she spoke in a hurried tone.
"I decided to purify the alcohol as best I could before using the lamp in case the purity of the flame happens to impact the efficacy of the overall process." She explained to Francine as Gerri began placing her items on the large table. "Light knows what kind of arcane or obscure rules govern this sort of potion making and we don't have time to run a dozen tests on this stuff to see if it actually works. One shot with the altars themselves and that's it! Normally I wouldn't dare try something this risky but given the circumstances and the time factor involved-" She paused to take a breath.
"You're enjoying this immensely, I can tell." Francine said with a smile. "I haven't see you this excited in ages."
"Spare me." Hannah groused as she picked up a bottle and examined its contents critically with an eye before replacing it and picking up another. "Just because I'm in a hurry…"
"You always get like this every time you have a challenge in front of you." Francine pointed out in amusement. "Trying whole new experiments, flying by the seat of your pants, wondering if it will work or not, and let's not forget the crowing at the end when you've pulled off another miracle no one else could achieve."
Hannah slowed briefly to smirk over at Francine as she collected a few jars. "Well I suppose I can't disagree with some of that. The crowing is rather enjoyable I admit." Noticing Gerri she spun and moved to the table. "Excellent! What do you have?"
"A large bottle of holy water, biggest one Williams had, as well as some Onyca oil, Galbanum holy oil, lavender, and citrus oils as they are said to purify the body." Gerri said.
"Good, good." Bellecoat said thoughtfully as she pulled the tins and bottles to her before beginning to examine them. "I doubt they're pure given how they were mixed but I should be able to distill them into their components easily enough, remove any impurities or extra nonsense, and then reconstitute them. Lavender and citrus makes sense but what about the other two?"
"Galbanum supposedly helps create a connection to the Light when it is used appropriately and Onyca is used for anointing." Gerri explained.
Hannah took out a pad of paper and began to scribble down notes in shorthand while keeping an eye on the simmering flask. "Hmm...useful certainly and considering the application the anointing aspect makes sense as well. I have purified essence of rosemary and lemongrass on hand which are used for cleansing purposes as well as some sulfuric acid that I can distill further."
Jacques arrived a moment later, a scroll and a few small containers in his hands. "I brought the scroll as well as a prism as I thought we could try adding light itself to the concoction in some way. I also have some hyssop and spikenard."
Hannah nodded thoughtfully as she pulled on her thick doctor's robes and a pair of thick gloves. "Good idea with the herbs. I hadn't considered filtered light but it can't hurt I suppose. Right, let me get the distilled water into another container and we'll get to work. Francine, if you're going to stand around and take up space you can at least help. Start distilling that hyssop and spikenard; make sure it's as purified as you can get. I'll check the oils and see about their mixtures. Al'Bin, start reading that scroll, I want to know every detail no matter how seemingly insignificant it might be to you." She instructed as she moved the alcohol lamp and placed another container under the suspended flask before opening the bottom.
"What should I do?" Gerri asked uncertainly, stepping back so the others could work.
"You will have a part to play." Al'Bin told her. "As I recall such mixtures often require prayers or chants by one who is blessed by the Light or able to use its power."
"Splendid." Hannah said with a hint of relish as she watched the pure water pour into the container. "Sounds like we have everything we need."
As Al'Bin began to describe the process Francine began to place the various herbs and petals in separate smaller flasks before carefully pouring some of the distilled water into each one and lighting more alcohol lamps before suspending the flasks above the lamps. Attaching a funnel to each flask she adjusted them to collect the distilled liquid into secondary containers. Hannah herself worked quickly, purifying further the acid she had mentioned before testing each of the oils the others had brought and distilling them as needed.
"...After stirring gently for one minute the Prayer of Consecration must be intoned by one who is blessed of the Light, their hand or pad of their index finger placed above the material such that the Light's power may fall from their hand or digit and be absorbed into the mixture." Al'Bin read from the scroll. "If a gem, clear stone, or other such item be used to infuse the mixture with light, the object should be held properly in order to convert the pure sunlight into a rainbow or other appropriate color given the stone used, with the end of the converted light beam interspersed with the material itself. The prayer should be chanted repeatedly for two minutes and the light ray held constant throughout…"
As the smell of herbs and oils filled the room Hannah had Gerri open a window to allow the morning sunlight in. Al'Bin held the prism at the proper angle so that the rainbow of color created from the sun shone into the glass bottle where the holy water was kept. Hannah added the distilled water to the bottle of holy water before slowly adding several of the newly purified oils, one after another, with a critical eye. Using a small hourglass to mark intervals of time she began to mix the liquids with Francine handing her the small containers of the distilled and purified essences while Gerri chanted quietly, her finger over the opening of the bottle with small tendrils of golden light winding their way from her finger into the bottle, swirling about the various contents. As Bellecoat continued to add more ingredients the liquid in the bottle began to glow such that it began to outshine the rainbow. Minutes passed as she stirred and mixed the solution with a thin glass rod, the movements as deft as a conductor's baton. Calling out the names of the substance she needed Francine would hand them to her with Bellecoat adding just the right amounts at just the right times as she bent close to the flask's opening, her eye focused on it. Oftentimes a mere drop was the only requirement from moment to moment, yet her hand or eye never wavered, as precise as a surgeon with a scalpel. Finally as the last of the prayers were chanted by Gerri and the last of the ingredients added and mixed the mixture flared brightly, becoming almost uncomfortable to the eyes, the substance within appearing like liquid lightning as it slowly swirled about in the large flask.
Letting out a deep sigh Hannah stared unblinkingly at the swirling mixture, her eyes taking in every detail before leaning back with a satisfied smile on her face. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have our consecrated essence."
"Well done Hannah!" Francine said happily. "I knew you could do it!"
"Was there ever any doubt?" She asked smugly as she blew out the lamps and removed her gloves. "Well done!" She said to the others, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Gerri smiled. "I appreciate the compliment and look forward to the crowing."
Hannah chuckled quietly at that. "I'll hold off on that until we get those altars consecrated. Then I'm going to laugh in that necromancer's face as I shove my scalpel into his throat.".
The others smiled grimly at the notion as they watched the bright liquid swirl.
Later that afternoon…
The entire group stood in the training hall with Charles standing before them, his hands clasped behind his back.
"The Light has granted us the opportunity to strike a blow against our foe!" Charles stated. "A day ago Gerri received a vision from the Light, informing her that a necromancer prepares to instigate some foul ritual in the ruins. To that end they are using three of the altars that were stolen from the hamlet years ago. Until now the altars have been out of our reach but our enemy has placed them where they are vulnerable and so we have the means to take them back, thus weakening him in the process! For this mission we will need two groups! The first must take the consecrated essence that our good Dr. Bellecoat has prepared into the ruins, locate the altars, and then consecrate them with the essence so that their connection to the Dark and the necromancer are broken! Once this has been done the second group must enter the ruins to hunt down the necromancer and destroy him before he has a chance to regain his strength and retake the altars!"
Pausing for a moment he continued. "For those who do not take part, our guild master has agreed to conduct sparring matches and extra training with Ernest's assistance as the man is a seasoned veteran of various wars. Who is willing to assist in these missions?"
Jacques and Francine stepped forward immediately. "We both helped in the creation of the essence." Al'Bin said. "We can help ensure the purification of the altars is done properly, plus you will need our skills against the opposition we will face from the necromancer's forces who will no doubt be guarding them."
Charles nodded. "Very well? Anyone else?"
Andre also stepped forward. "You will need a strong sword arm to defend you. I shall offer my aid as well."
Mortimer also stepped forward. "Ah've been in the woods but Ah've not yet seen yon ruins ye spoke of. Me and the Laddie'll stand with ye."
Charles nodded sharply. "So be it! What of the group to take on the necromancer himself?"
Reynauld, Dismas, Gerri, and Hannah all stepped forward at once. "We were the first to render our aid to you and we have the most experience with these horrors." Reynauld stated firmly. "It is only proper that we undertake this mission."
Charles nodded again. 'I cannot argue with that. Very well. Let us take the rest of the day to prepare as best we can. At dawn the attack begins!" He commanded as the entire group raised their weapons with a shout.
The rest of the day proceeded apace as those who had volunteered prepared themselves mentally and physically for the tasks at hand before taking a meal and bedding down for the night. The next morning as the sun rose in the sky the two groups made their way up the hill to the derelict cathedral. Andre, Mortimer, Al'Bin, and Francine paused at the door to look back at Winter's group, the man nodding to them firmly in his armor. Pushing open the door the group of four made their way into the darkened space with torches lit. As they made their way down the hallway a strange object came into view. Rising like a knobbed spike from the floor, the top of the object curled obscenely like a beckoning tentacle. In the center sat a crystalline orb the color of fresh blood with darker red light swirling slowly within it.
"Could this be the altar we are looking for?" Andre wondered as he reached out to touch the orb.
"Stop!" Al'Bin shouted suddenly, his voice ringing across the hallway.
Andre's hand froze inches from the object as he turned to look at the sorcerer, the man's normally swarthy face having become pale.
"Step away from that immediately!" The man ordered urgently.
Withdrawing his hand Andre stepped back carefully as Al'Bin stepped forward, his black eyes focused on the swirling object in front of them. Carefully stretching forth his hand, not daring to touch the orb, the sorcerer began to mutter dark and arcane words. Violet crackles of energy darted from his fingers to arc across to the pedestal before Al'Bin withdrew his hand with a sharp intake of breath.
"A trap indeed, but not the kind we were expecting!" He hissed.
"What say you Al'Bin?" Andre asked.
The robed man turned to them, his face grim and eyes bright. "This is an altar yes, but of a terrible sort. The amount of dark power flowing through it is immense. If I am correct, activating it will open a gateway to a realm I dare not speak of! What might lay beyond I shall not speculate on but I fear it would be the end of all of us."
"In other words, not the altar we're looking for." Francine suggested.
"Correct." The man replied grimly.
"Let's move on then and make sure to keep a good distance from that thing." Andre stated.
As they moved further down the dim corridor they soon came to another object. This was appeared to be a large piece of broken onyx held up by a bronze stand with skull motifs. Everyone else stayed back as the sorcerer stepped forward once more, examining it with mundane and magical senses.
"Ah, I believe we have found our first objective." Al'Bin said with a smile.
"You're kidding me." Francine said in disbelief.
"No, this altar allows dark power to flow through it but I sense it was not always used for this purpose. This must be what we are searching for."
Nodding, Francine unpacked one of the three phials Bellecoat had prepared earlier to hold the essence so that each would get the same amount. The woman carefully uncorked the top and began to slowly pour the essence over the dark stone. As the last drop hit the stone a dark cloud erupted from all around it before slowly dissipating into nothingness. Scanning the stone again, Al'Bin nodded.
"The darkness has been purged and I sense that positive energies are surrounding it once more."
Andre nodded. "Good. One down. Let us hope the others are as easy."
Finding the nearby room empty they continued down the hallway. In the torchlit gloom Mortimer suddenly spied a sack sitting innocently amidst the stones.
"What's this?" He asked quietly as he walked over to the sack, bending down and picking it up.
Francine called out a warning too late as the flagstones shifted before sending pointed blades up through the flooring, one of them stabbing into the man's foot. Mortimer cried out as the ancient weapon retracted back into the floor, the tip and edge bloody as Francine hurried forward, pulling off the man's boot while snatching a phial of powder from her belt.
"You're lucky Hannah has a stock of anti-bacterial powder that can kill tetanus, not to mention that I managed to snag a couple vials." She fretted as she dabbed the greenish powder into the oozing wound before winding a bandage around it.
"Feels like one o' yon mutts at the kennel took a likin' to me foot for lunch!" The burly man grunted in pain as he slowly stood, wincing as he put weight on his injured foot. "I'll be hobblin' about like a grandma for days like this!"
"Can you go on?" Andre asked in concern as the man carefully wiggled his foot back into his boot before lacing it again.
"Ach! I'll be fine soon." He grunted, his face slightly pale. "Take more than a bloody sword to put me down!"
Andre nodded, allowing the man to collect himself before taking hold of the sack and peering into it. "A small bit of gold here. A lovely trap it would seem."
"Aye." Mortimer groused. "An barely enough to care for me foot ah wager."
Andre gave him a humorless smile before handing the sack to him. A few minutes later the company continued further with Mortimer panting quietly. Entering a dusty study they quickly checked the room for threats as well as anything of interest.
"No beasties but there's a door here." Mortimer remarked, pointing out an old wooden door on the right wall, another door facing them at the far end of the room.
"Let us continue forward." Andre replied. "We can examine the other passage later."
Lighting another torch from his pack Andre led them out of the room and down another hallway. A moment later, furious screeches filled the air.
"Good choice laddie!" Mortimer called out sarcastically as three large spiders scuttled towards them on spiny legs. The first two had reddish bodies with the one behind them a putrid green.
"The green one!" Francine called out. "It spits venom! Even contact with the skin will poison you!"
Nodding, Jacques quickly summoned forth the dark powers that were his to command via the terrible pacts he had made years ago. Arcane words tumbled from his mouth as he held the skull-candle aloft. The object's eye sockets blazed with hellish red light as the candle flame surged. An instant later a portal rimmed in crimson light appeared in mid air before the party. A violet tentacle shot from the portal's entrance whipping about the spider, squeezing it tightly as it yanked the creature towards them, before vanishing back into the portal which also popped out of existence, space healing itself immediately as the spider staggered back and forth, dazed and injured from the experience.
Mortimer's sharp whistle cracked the air and the large boar hound surged forward with slavering jaws biting deep into the eye sockets of the spider and into its brain, killing it as it screeched in agony. At the same moment Francine swiftly threw one of the glass orbs that hung from her belt at one of the red spiders. The container smashed to pieces releasing a powerful toxin upon one of the spiders which began to stumble about drunkenly, its eyes blinking furiously to try and focus its scattered mental processes. The second red spider, furious at the attacks, spat a massive glob of webbing towards the party. Most were able to dodge out of the way, the webbing splattering against Al'Bin's chest and arms, restricting his movements as he stumbled back in shock and surprise, the globules attached to him covering him with a putrid stench.
Pulling a scroll of holy scripture from his belt Andre unrolled it before them as he shouted. "Let the Light be your scourge!"
Holy light erupted from the parchment, its energy surging over the two injured spiders, making them squeal in pain. Yanking the webbing free from his robes the sorcerer turned to Mortimer.
"Your injuries will only slow us down. Allow me to mend that situation." He said with a smirk as he began to gesture with his delicate fingers.
Arcane speech flowed from his lips and power flowed from his hands, the greenish bands of energy wrapping themselves around the burly Scot's body before sinking into it. The man felt his injuries knitting themselves together, the pain in his foot fading.
"Thanks, Laddie." The man sighed.
Meanwhile Francine had thrown another orb of liquid, the contents splashing against the second spider causing it to stagger about drunkenly while the other quickly withdrew, leaving its companion to take the brunt of their assault. The Crusader quickly attempted to use his scroll once more to injure them but the creatures skittered away into the dark beyond the torchlight.
"Where are they?" Andre asked urgently as Mortimer swung his torch about, attempting to find them within the shifting shadows around them.
Suddenly one of them leaped from the darkness with a screech, burying its fangs into Mortimer's thigh. The man cried out hysterically as he stumbled, falling to the ground as the creature continued to savage his leg, dripping foul saliva into the open wound, the ferocity of the attack shocking them all before Mortimer shoved the torch into the creature's face, making it jump back before retreating into the darkness once again.
"Bloody bastard!" Mortimer hissed, gripping his leg with a free hand. "Feels like me leg is on fire!"
Francine quickly stepped forward as the others kept watch. "I can at least stop any infection from spreading." She said fussily as she dripped several drops of anti-venom from her pouch into the wound. Suddenly the other spider surged from behind them, clamping onto Mortimer's arm, biting it angrily before racing away once again as the ground turned to face it.
"Stop it ya Light-damned knobdobber!" Mortimer shouted in pained fury. "Twas only one of ye me beastie got!"
Al'Bin quickly recited his spell once again, healing both of the terrible wounds as Francine helped him stand only to have one of the spiders shoot from the darkness once more, biting into his calf before racing away.
"Light-damned, twally-washing, bawheeded jobby!" Mortimer yelled furiously, descending into several Gaelic curses. "Now ye've gone and done it!" He thundered before his whistle pierced the air again. "Get 'em boy!" He shouted.
The boar hound immediately shot forward into the darkness. For several moments the air was filled with the sound of furious shrieks and barks as well as the crunching of jaws before the dog emerged, dragging the two spiders' corpses from its mouth, both of them covered in bleeding bite marks.
"Ahh, good boy!" Mortimer sighed, rubbing the dog's head as it deposited the remains at the man's feet.
"Most impressive." Al'Bin remarked.
"Aye, he's the best." Mortimer said with a smile before taking a vial of antivenom from his pouch and downing it. "Just in case that last broggie had somethin' nasty in its teeth."
They quickly lit a new torch, the previous one nearing its end, as they came to a rickety cabinet sitting against the wall, its panels securely shut. Andre dug a key out of his pouch and jiggled it in the lock, springing it. Opening the doors he found a similar key along with a large sack of gold and several crests in another pouch.
"Something to smile about finally." Mortimer remarked as the Crusader passed out the wealth and crests among them. "Tis a nice bit o' gold."
The ruined study at the end of the hallway proved to be empty of any threats, allowing the party to go back the way they came and head through the south-facing door. As they ventured down the hallway Andre came upon a stack of books sitting nearby. Frowning in curiosity the man picked up the first book of the stack and began flipping through the pages. Suddenly, before his eyes, the spidery script on the page began to wiggle and squirm unnaturally before reforming into sigils and glyphs that made his eyes water as he attempted to decipher them. The script immediately changed again and a dawning horror blossomed within the back of his mind. As the text began to spell out words of horrific truth his instincts screamed and he threw the book aside, panting. The spell broken he found himself shivering, his forehead covered in sweat.
"Are you alright Andre?" Francine asked in concern as she came forward, resting a hand on his armored shoulder.
The Frenchman looked at her hauntedly for a moment before taking a cloth from inside his armor and wiping his face with it. "I...will be fine. The book...it…" He sighed. "Well, let us say the passage I saw was rather...unsettling."
"It was more than that, I think." Al'Bin stated with grim certainty as he gazed at the stack of tomes warily. "Take care, all of you. There are dark forces at work here, even in the most innocuous things. Even I did not sense something amiss about these books." Stepping forward the man allowed his fingers to stroke the face of one of the bound leather books before frowning darkly. "There is ancient power here...and a subtle connection...almost as if the book itself is part of...but no, surely that cannot be." He muttered softly in consternation.
"What is it?" Andre asked anxiously.
The Arabic man glanced up at him swiftly with unreadable dark eyes before glancing about. "It is only a...fragment of an idea. A vague fear. But without more information I dare not speculate as that path leads to paranoia and fruitless thought. Once I am sure, then will I speak."
Andre frowned at him in concern. "Very well. You may hold your tongue for the moment but do not think to hoard some secret that might be vital to our success here."
"I assure you I intend no such thing." Al'Bin stated sharply as he straightened.
Bertrand's eyes remained focused on the swarthy man for a moment longer before he nodded, gesturing for the rest to follow him. Suddenly the shadows gave way to a pair of skeletons bearing clubs in their hands.
"Look out!" Francine cried as she pulled an orb from her belt and threw it at the closest skeleton, the acidic liquid eating away at its tendons. Al'Bin immediately summoned power to him, firing a hex at the second skeleton. The arcane energy crackled across the creature's bones, slowing it down and making it more vulnerable to attack. Mortimer's whistle saw his hound latch onto the second skeleton, ripping it to pieces while Andre beheaded the other with a single swing of his sword.
"T'was rather easy." Mortimer remarked in vague surprise as the boar hound came trotting back with a bone in its mouth.
"Let us hope the rest of our expedition is so easy." Andre remarked, picking up a few gold pieces that had fallen when the creatures had stood.
The hallway led to a small prayer room with the fresco of an ancient saint slowly flaking to pieces on the back wall. Taking the door at the other end of the room they continued down the hallway, their light suddenly illuminating a squad of bandits who turned in surprise at seeing the light. The first two began to pull short swords from their waists while the two behind them readied their rifles.
Wasting no time the Plague Doctor immediately flung an orb at the two riflemen, covering them in odious bacteria. Racing forward, Mortimer swung his cudgel at the first swordsman's head, making the man stagger and drop his weapon before dodging to the side as Bertrand brought forth his scroll, chanting a holy litany as the holy scripture blazed with divine light, burning both swordsman's uncovered faces and hands. The blast of light provided Jacques the precious seconds he needed to cast a spell, summoning a blood red portal whose tentacle grabbed one of the riflemen and yanked him forward, making him stumble. The second rifleman immediately opened fire on the group, the first rifleman doing the same after recovering his wits, both managing to pelt them with buckshot though distance and the second's wavering blunderbuss did nothing but ensure they did little damage.
Furious at being caught flat-footed and injured by the trespassers, one of the blademen charged forward with a yell. Dodging around Andre the man stabbed at Mortimer's flank, the blade burying itself deep into his side before jerking it free and dancing back to avoid a counterattack. Francine whipped an orb at the man who dodged to the side, the glass shattering against the other blademan and the rifleman near him who had been hit with her previous orb, covering both in liquefied bacteria. The double dose of the necrotizing substance had the first rifleman falling to the floor, hacking up black blood, seconds before the other collapsed as well, both expiring from the fast-acting rot, the spectacle shocking the other bandits.
Al'Bin used the moment to quickly mutter words of healing and suture, knitting together Mortimer's insides until his flesh was smooth again.
"Gonna be usin' all yer magic on me t'day Laddie." Mortimer grunted as the spell took effect. "Dunno what I done ta' anger the gods like this."
"Perhaps they simply dislike your face." Al'Bin suggested drolly.
With a furious roar the other blademan ran forward, swinging his sword wildly at Andre who quickly dodged before stabbing his sword deep into the man's chest, killing him. At the same moment the second bandit struck at Mortimer with uncanny speed once more, slicing his arm deeply.
"Bleedin' codger! I'll give ye a bashin' ye'll nae forget!" Mortimer bellowed angrily as his cudgel crashed down upon the man's head, making him stumble back as blood flowed down his face and into his eyes.
Running at the man with fury in her eyes Francine grabbed an orb and smashed it into the man's face, making him howl as he fell to the ground, the combination of glass and acidic rot eating away at his face until he finally stilled as the substance began eating away at his brain..
As the group searched the bodies they found a small cut emerald hidden in one of the bandit's pockets as well as a pouch of gold which they divided up. Making their way down the hallway they carefully entered the next room. Finding it deserted they continued south in their search. Finding a stone door set into the middle of the hallway they carefully entered the side room.
Sitting in the middle of the small room was the second onyx altar with a small object near one of its legs.
Andre's eyes narrowed at this. "This seems rather convenient, stowing it away in here as if it were a broom in a closet."
"Agreed." Al'Bin stated cautiously before motioning everyone back. "One of the restoratives if you please, my lady." He asked.
Francine handed him one of the bottles of purified essence from her pack before the sorcerer entered the room carefully, muttering cantrips of detection and true sight softly, holding the skull and candle aloft, both filling the room with decrepit light. In his sight the sorcerer could see the dark energy flowing from the onyx structure like a river of oil flowing upwards through the ceiling. Looking about the walls appeared to be covered with dark webbing like veins and arteries of a massive beast. Detecting no traps or spells lying in wait he carefully approached the altar and began to pour the essence over its surface. As the last of the substance touched the altar the dark flow immediately ceased as positive energy erupted from the altar's surface before creating an aura of light around it. Unbidden, Al'Bin touched his fingertips against the black surface.
Flash!
Reality vanished around him for a moment and he found himself standing before a being of light, the pair of them standing within a great blue and white void.
We thank you, Jacques Al'Bin, for freeing our vessel from its chains. The creature said in a booming yet mellifluous voice. Long ago you sought power through dark rituals and terrible bargains with beings you dared not comprehend. Yet, even now, there is hope, for you fight against powers such as those. Know that in time the choice will come upon you. In that moment, WE will stand beside you.
The being vanished and reality returned, Al'Bin blinking his eyes several times to clear them of the afterimages. Resolving to consider the matter at the proper time he nodded gravely to the altar in silent thanks before bending down and retrieving the item next to the altar's brass leg.
Holding the scratched and scarred iron padlock in his hand he muttered another spell, willing time and memory to appear before his eyes. Flashes of sound and light appeared in his mind as he beheld snippets of a tortured man bound in chains superimposed over a horrific beastial creature with long swept-back horns and a powerful body. Fire and the shouts of an angry mob filled his ears as he saw the man race into a forbidding forest, shunned and hunted by all before being taken by a terrible figure in robes the color of dried blood. The spell ended a moment later and the sorcerer stood still for a moment, processing all that he had seen before turning back to his companions who waited expectantly for him.
"The altar has been purified." He told them as he stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
"What's that you have?" Andre asked, looking at the padlock in the man's hand.
"The lock that once held back a powerful creature. One that, I think, could be of use to us, assuming he still lives." Al'Bin stated. "The foe we seek will not treat one such as him kindly."
"You know this how?" Andre asked skeptically.
"You have seen my power first hand and yet ask such a question?" Al'Bin asked sardonically with a sarcastic twist of his lips. "Time and hidden knowledge are mine to manipulate and use as I see fit. The necromancer is a seeker of ancient lore and forgotten secrets above all else. He will use this creature to his advantage if he can. Assuming the man still lives he would no doubt be of use to us; revenge is a powerful motivator."
Andre nodded thoughtfully. "We shall see, then, assuming we can find this person you speak of. Let us continue onward."
The hallway turned to the west as they continued to follow it only to find their way blocked by a large pile of rubble. Grumbling the group took out their shovels and began to move the large blocks of stone and earth to the side, creating a pair of smaller piles on either side of the hallway before continuing onward. Coming to a crumbling locked cabinet the Crusader used his key to open the lock. Within lay a second key as well as collections of crests, busts, gold, and even a few emeralds sitting in a shallow bowl.
"A small fortune." Al'Bin noted appraisingly, eyeing the gems.
"Indeed." Andre replied as he passed around the looted items before they continued onward.
The next room yielded nothing but dust and ruin as the party delved deeper into the corrupted ruins. As the group continued down the dimly lit hallway Mortimer paused to look at a cobweb-covered confession booth, the fact of its existence in such an austere place a mystery. Frowning in confusion the barrel-chested man drew back the wine colored velvet curtain covering the entrance to the penitent's chamber. Immediately the blood drained from his face as he beheld a terrible figure seated in the booth. The human-like emaciated figure was covered in rags with pustule-covered skin and black necrotic rot covering its body, it's face a ruin with its eyes vanished from their sockets leaving gaping holes of blackness that seemed to vanish into the abyss. The only thing left untouched was its mouth, though even that aspect was not without blemish for the thing's teeth were rotten and misshapen. Seemingly dead the malformed thing suddenly took a shuddering raspy breath and turned its head to face the houndsman with its horrible face, its mouth curving upward into a repulsive rictus.
I͔͔̦̝̞̱̋ͨ́̉̽̿̊ͫ͘ ̩̖̱̄ͧ͘͝š̱̗̳̗̰̭̣ͣ́͜ę͙̻̟̣͛̍͊͛͡e̢̟̘͎̤͕͉ͯ͛̋̿͡ ̗͇̠̎̓͂͆̃ͫ͊͘͞y͓̝̰̻͖͈̖̤ͩͪ͡o̸͖̦͍̲̠͆ͤ̈̄͜͟u̼̟̙̘̦̖̥̿̏͂
Letting out a horrified cry Mortimer leaped back letting the curtain fall across the horrifying figure, hiding it from sight. The others rushed over to him a moment later but the shaking man could only point at the curtain with a wavering finger. His hand on the hilt of his sword Andre threw back the curtain, ready to slash open what had dared to frighten the man so.
The chamber was empty of all but dust and decay.
Mortimer silently gaped at the impossibility before his shaking hand rested against the back of his trusted friend, patting the hound's fur to reassure himself as Andre let the curtain fall once more, looking back at the man quizzically.
"Let us take care not to judge in a place such as this." Al'Bin stated carefully. "Illusion and trickery will run rampant the further we delve into this madman's domain. This necromancer no doubt has powers over light and shadow as well as death."
Nodding the others continued on with Francine resting a hand bracingly on Mortimer's shoulder to help steady him. Turning a corner they entered through an old wooden door only to find themselves in dread company. Before them stood a skeleton in plate mail bearing a large buckler and hand axe. Behind the grim defender stood a man and a woman dressed in half-skull masks with gold and black robes and even further back stood another skeleton dressed in conquistador's armor with a crossbow clutched in its bony fingers.
Behind them sat the last of the three altars.
"I don't believe you were invited." The woman stated menacingly as she glared at them through her half-skull mask.
"The rightful owner of these lands has returned! Your kind are no longer welcome!" Andre retorted firmly.
The woman's mouth curved upward in a cruel smile. "Fool! The lord of these lands is not the pitiful youth who sits in the squalid hamlet but a power far greater than you can imagine!"
The woman gestured over her shoulder at the crossbowman behind her. "Kill the one in the mask first."
The skeleton immediately obeyed, its raised crossbow firing a bolt across the room at lightning speed to slam into Francine's stomach, making her cry out in agony as she fell to her knees. At the same time the woman raised her rod of warped blackened wood crying out in a fell voice. Pure darkness surged from the rod and scenes of horrific madness flashed across Andre's eyes and mind making him cry out in disoriented terror.
"Get 'er boy!" Mortimer shouted and the boar hound surged across the room on clawed paws, its jaws sinking into her hip before tearing flesh free, soaking her robes with blood.
Incensed, the woman's companion charged the Houndmaster with a furious roar but Mortimer quickly leaped aside as Andre slashed the man's side with his sword, wounding him seriously as blood began to foul his robes. Francine staggered to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain as she felt the bolt grate against her insides. The Plague Doctor hastily threw an orb towards the crossbowman, the filthy contents splashing against both the skeleton and the woman, making her cry out in anger. Taking advantage of the moment Jacques quickly cast a spell of healing upon Francine, healing some of her insides though the wound continued to bleed. The armored skeleton charged forward, his axe slamming against Andre's armor, scoring it heavily and making him stagger back before the undead stepped back hastily, bringing up its shield on guard. Weaving another spell of healing using the dark magics at his command, Al'Bin once again directing his powers at Francine, healing her further as she yanked the bolt from her flesh, her insides immediately sealing over though blood continued to soak her heavy robe.
"Stop that magician!" The woman ordered the crossbowman as she raised her rod. Dark power and a crossbow bolt flew at Jacques as the man dropped to the floor, both missing him by inches as he glared hatefully at them with his dark eyes. Meanwhile, Francine quickly uncorked a bottle at her belt, pouring some of the liquid into the wound to help staunch the flow of blood and kill any bacteria infesting the wound as the man in black and gold robes stabbed at Mortimer with his long claws. The burly man dodged to the side before slamming his blackjack into the side of the man's head, stunning him with a yell as he staggered. Mortimer quickly whistled and his faithful companion leaped at the cultist knocking him to the ground. As the man attempted to struggle to his feet the dog buried its fangs in the man's neck, savagely tearing out his throat in a fountain of blood. At the same moment Andre flew forward, getting past the shield-bearer's guard and slashing his sword across the creature's body, the weak armor buckling as bone shards flew in all directions. Furiously the creature swung its axe again but the Crusader ducked under the swing before swinging with all his strength at the creature's neck. With a crack the creature's head flew from its body as the rest of it collapsed in a heap.
Al'Bin quickly stood as the crossbowman fired another shot at the Plague Doctor, hitting her in the shoulder as she stumbled back once again with a cry.
"Gods dammit! Shoot someone else!" She bellowed.
Furiously the Plague Doctor tore an orb from her belt and threw it. The orb arced true, smashing against the woman, the liquid hitting both of them in the face.
The woman screamed at the destructive bacteria quickly ate away at her face, turning into a foul ruin as she collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, while the skull of the crossbowman began to break down as the liquid ate away at it. Taking a moment to marshal his powers Al'Bin quickly placed his hands on Francine.
"Hold still!" He commanded her as he yanked the bolt out of her shoulder, making her cry out.
Words of power poured from his lips as he spoke another healing spell. Power flooded through them as the eldritch energies quickly bound Francine's wounds, healing her completely, the pain in her body vanishing. As the undead crossbowman tried to line up another shot the Plague Doctor yanked another orb from her belt.
"No you don't!" She shouted, flinging it at the creature.
The disorienting flash powder erupted in front of the creature's eyes, blinding it and making it stumble about.
"Take 'im down boy!" Mortimer shouted in triumph.
The dog surged across the room, knocking the creature to the ground before ripping its head from its spinal column.
Sighing in relief Francine quickly strode over to the altar, taking out the final flask and pouring its contents onto the massive piece of onyx. Divine power surged across the artifact as it regained its connection to the Light.
"It is done." Al'Bin stated with satisfaction. "The dark corruption has gone from them and the power no longer feeds the vile necromancer below. We must leave quickly and notify the others."
The dark sorcerer smiled grimly. "The time to attack is now."