I really do enjoy serving the Emperor Charlemeign. Though I have to
say that it is not the immerse adventure I'd once though it was in my
squire days, it was indeed a vast relief to not know that I'd be polishing
the boots of sir bread-and-water for the rest of my days. I am quite fit
to be a crusader myself, but I did not have the heart to go crashing
through villages and committing the most dreadful acts of anti-Semitism. I
knew that whatever strife I face here would be limited to foolishly brave
thieves and bitter politicians who would like to take a shot at our Lord's
superior policies.
Things have always been fair at the Oblie Cathedral here in Amiens. I would deliver messages to and from our Emperor, and I would attend meetings to which purpose I couldn't begin to imagine. It was really more than I'd deserved. But things had seemed to change a little bit lately. What was once for the good of the people was now for the good of the empire. What once might have been a break in taxes for a region might now be more pocket money for the hierarchy. And I knew that it wasn't necessarily the emperor's fault, but rather a fault in human nature. I'd heard of many empires of the past, most of which collapsed because of petty squabbles between races and the undoing of mankind. And whenever a breakthrough had come, a selfish person would move to stifle it.
I am now heading down to my quarters after a long meeting with some new members of the church. Many monks come and go over the months. Some move on to pursue activity in other or higher areas of the empire. I personally do not see what could be more important that the very talks which will decide the future of a large part of the world. I have been summoned by Brother Jasper, who has an important message to be delivered. Of course, being the messenger, it was my potency to make sure that nothing, whether it be a vial of the plague or a terrible curse, should harm the emperor. One such mishap had already happened, and though we were absolutely sure that nothing was wrong, the bishop was quick to order the guards to cremate what might have been a very beautiful solar clock.
"Deliver this to our lord and Emperor, Charlemeign the Frank. No one but him must see it. There are words for his eyes only. At once!" said Brother Jasper to me as if it were very urgent. He handed a small scroll to me.
I would have asked him what it was had he not ducked away quickly to avoid confrontation. Brother Jasper had always been very faithful, but today he seemed different. His face looked darker and his eyes looked as if he had been up very late. I knew that I should trust no one. I ducked into a corner and took the seal off, then opened the scroll and saw odd- looking sigils. I wondered if they could be some sort of witchcraft, and as if on cue, a bright blast of yellow light shot out and hit me in the face. It didn't burn, or even leave a luminescence in my eyes, but the impact seemed to kick me back against the wall. I stood up again, surprised by the ordeal.
"What sorcery is this, s spell? I am bewitched! If this was meant for Charlemeign, then what will become of him? I have to warn him of this treachery," I exclaimed.
I ran off to the main hall of the cathedral. Inside, there was the usual quiet group of monks who were praying to our lord. I went over to the meeting chamber and rattled the locked door. I banged on it and yelled, but no one had come to answer. Finally, I was asked to be quiet by one of the monks. Looking over, I have noticed that everyone in the chapel seems sad about something.
"What is wrong, brother?" I whispered to him as I walked over to the pew.
"Brother Martin, loyal 30-year follower of the church has died a most horrible death," he replied.
"Brother Martin? How come? What has happened to him?"
"Apparently, he's fallen off of a high tower on this chapel."
"A tower? That is how he's ended his life? But why? Surely you couldn't do this by accident," I said, not believing that anyone, particularly such a smart and careful person, could be so foolish as to merely jump over two guard rails and throw himself off. The monk stared at me silently, then resumed his prayer. I had a rather bad feeling that he, or someone in this church, was trying to hide something. I walked over to the priest.
"Messenger, what dost thou beseech this morn?"
"Oh nothing," I said. I'd intended to let my curiosity get the best of me to see just what had actually happened. The priest looked away, and I sneaked around him to the coffin on the altar. It was clearly Brother Martin's coffin. I looked around to make sure that nobody was looking. No one was. I placed my hand on the side and lifted the top. What I'd seen was a little more than what I'd expected. Martin's body looked as if an ogre had run it through with a blade the size of a table. More realistically, it looked as if something had burst from his insides and ripped him open. His stomach had a deep, vile pit in it, and it seemed like most of his organs were missing. There were innumerable cuts and gashes in his upper and lower body. No fall from any structure, save the top of Mount Olympus (pardon my inclusion of Greek mythology in this) could cause this to someone's body.
"What art thou doing? Stop!" yelled the priest, who had heard my unwitting exclamation. I froze, and the other monks and him walked over to the coffin and looked inside. They were as aghast as I was. We stood there for a minute, while the monks speculated with the priest on what had happened. Some thought it was a murder, but I was now sure that something deeper, more sinister was involved. Before I knew it, almost everyone had left, and a monk stood before me.
"You have proven what we have feared the most. This man has been a victim of great evil! Look how his body has been defiled," he said as he cast his hand toward the mangled corpse, "as if something has burst out from inside of him! Here, take this for your protection," he said as he handed me a short blade. "And find the bishop! He must be informed of this horrible discovery," he added as he walked off.
I stood there, all of a sudden feeling very excited, but frightened just the same. Had that monk taken this a little bit melodramatically, or was I just being a fool? Had lifting up the lid of that coffin out of my own curiosity really set off the cathedral so strongly? I felt sick for opening the coffin in the first place. I examined the weapon the monk had given me. It was short, thick and heavy, almost like a meat cleaver. But it was also sharpened on both sides, and the blade narrowed down to a triangular tip. And just why would a monk of the church be packing this ugly weapon? There were too many questions running through my head and nothing close to an answer. I decided to head upstairs to look for the key to the meeting chamber.
As I walked up, I noticed something odd. The light in front of me flickered, as if the stairs were an apparition. I dismissed it, but it only got stronger. It rippled and shook, and I tried to stop, but I tripped foreword into it. Everything went back to perspective, but looking ahead, I saw a massive shrine on the end of a long bridge, lined with pedestals. I looked back to see that the stairs were gone, and that I was no longer in a temple, but a massive hall of a sort. On the sides of the bridge was an empty abyss. I walked slowly foreword, trying not to stumble by again and making an attempt to absorb my surroundings. There were two statues at the start of the bridge. One was of a beautiful young woman, barely clad and carrying a short, narrow blade. The other was broken in half, and the bottom displayed what looked like an armored 'skirt' mail and two sandled feet. I tried to convince myself that these had no significance whatsoever. I walked along, and casually glanced at the floor in front of me. What I saw had shocked me.
The floor is lined with faces. Bald, screaming human faces that moan quietly throughout the chamber. The moans echoed through the chamber like a very disgusting mass execution. I hurried through, and as I got farther up the bridge, the faces yelled louder, and began to push out at me. I screamed, stomped some of them and ran all the way to the end. I saw in front of me a large, rotting hand on a pedestal, closed over a thick book. It slowly lifted open, as if welcoming me to take it. By now, the screams had grown unbearable, and the faces were beginning to lift me off of the floor. I grabbed it with both arms, and a series of quick, blinding images flashed through me. There were brief apparitions of people being tortured, and it ended with a grinning skeletal face. A low, unpleasant growl sounded, and I was on the stairs of the cathedral again.
I shook my head, now quite understanding what had just happened. The book was in my hands, and I picked it up with one arm while making sure that the air in front of me wasn't rippling. It was perfectly still. I walked up the stairs, and into the empty third floor of the cathedral. I wasn't expecting what had hit me next. A yellow light flashed through my eyes again. This time, it burned. I felt my face, and my skin was wrinkled slightly. It also felt eerily rough and leathery. I was suddenly worried about just what that spell had done to me. I felt tired, a little more relaxed, actually. But remembering the task in hand, I scoured the room for the key. After finding nothing, I noticed a small blue urn on the shelf at the back of the room. I picked it up, and looked inside. There was a green, ceramic rune inside. Half expecting it to hit me with another curse, but relieved that it didn't, I stuffed it into my pocket. My fingers fumbled with the slippery urn and I dropped it to the ground, shattering it into pieces. I picked them up and stuffed them in too.
I was going to walk back down, when I noticed a large gold coin on an altar near the bookcases. I picked it up, and thinking that it might get stolen, stuffed it deftly into my other pocket. In just a few minutes, I'd acquired a blade, a large book, a rune, a broken pot and a large coin from various sources. It was my duty as a messenger to make sure nothing got lost or left behind. The coin seemed a bit strange, however. I pulled it out again, and it shined unnaturally. I saw the palm-sized rune glowing in my pocket as well, and I placed them together. The rune spun quickly out of my hand, then seemed to get sucked into the coin. This couldn't be good, I thought. I dismissed the thought and bumped my back on something. Turning around, I noticed that one of the books on the shelf stuck out oddly, as if it had been glued in place. I pushed it back it, and what happened next came completely by surprise. The shelf to the left of me slid open, revealing a ladder that extended into a dark hallway.
I decided that curiosity had taken me this far, and that I might as well continue. I walked down the ladder, and brought out my blade. I had the feeling that I was intruding, but I similar intrusion had apparently been made be two, three oddly clad people. I advanced on them in the dim, torch lit hallway, and the turned around. I could see clearly now that these weren't people. They were humanoid in appearance, yes, but they had clearly disgusting features. Their skin was green, scabbing heavily at places, and they had several openings in their bodies that revealed green, skeletal, rotting flesh. Not quite what I'd been looking for, but if they wanted a fight, I knew that I'd been trained well enough to. In almost a cliched demonic manner, they shuffled toward me, feet making a distinctive scraping noise on the ground, and I cut one in the stomach. It didn't stop. I sliced its arm off, hoping for the best, but it only groaned loudly and continued to advance. And to my terror, its arm grew back almost instantly. But not it's arm in the rotted state it was before, but rather a translucent green hologram of its arm. It reached out with the hologram and punched me across the face. It was shockingly solid, and it made blood trickle down from my rough skin. I swiped hard across its neck, taking its head off. Its head returned as a similar phantom entity. As it reached out again, I pushed my weapon into its spine. It broke in half, and fell to the ground, no longer moving.
Knowing how to kill them, I turned to the others to see something interesting-another apparition, this time in the chest of another, was a floating, spinning rune similar to the one I had seen before. But shocked as I was, I didn't see their blows coming, and they knocked me to the floor. Their fists were hard enough to puncture my body and draw blood. I felt as if I had been stabbed. I cut off one's ankle, which caused it to fall, then drove the blade into its spine similarly. I got up, ducked under another punch and stabbed upward into its chest. My blade got stuck, so I kicked the handle hard. It split through the spin and caused the third and final monster to collapse.
I noticed that the bodies of the monsters disappeared, but the rune I had seen did not. It lay on the ground. I picked it up and pulled out the large gold coin. I got the same eerie reaction as the other rune. It spin, flashed and sucked itself into the coin. I slipped the coin back into my pocket, and opened the door at the end of the hallway.
Well, I hadn't been expecting to see a monk down here. And what a surprise, wielding a useless torch at two skeletal demons. He strikes one, and it falls backwards on fire, colliding with and burning up a large, colorful cloth that was obviously placed to conceal a door. The door is unscathed. But the fool monk drops the torch. I walk foreword, getting directly behind the demon, and I swing out with my blade, cutting off its head. It stands there, confused, and it swings blindly. I'd almost expected its head to come back green, but it doesn't. I notice that I can barely feel my body's wounds that I'd got a few seconds ago. I lift my shirt, and the bleeding wound is still there, but it's not painful in the least. The monk gives me a disgusted look. I thrust the small blade into the demons back, then pull it out and chop it to the side. The spine severs, and it writhes on the ground. The monk, who is abashed and frightened, picks up the torch and rubs it against the creature until it ignites.
"Say, you could be a bit more careful," I said to him. "What are you doing down here anyway?"
"Well, I've been looking for the bishop, and I stumbled across an odd trap in the bookcase upstairs. Is that how you got here?"
"Yes, actually. This really isn't what I'd expected. Did you hear about Brother Martin?"
"Yes. It was gruesome. But what frightened me equally was the state of the bishop. He stormed through here, eyes flashing and skin dark and scabbed. I fear that something is terribly wrong."
"Really? That does sound a bit familiar. It's happened to me, I think."
"Why? Do you think that you." he paused for a second, then looked at me closely. "Hmm, you did look a bit younger the last time I saw you. How did it happen?"
"Well, I opened this scroll," I pulled it out to show him, "and a spray of yellow light hit my face. Nothing happened, but then that same light bathed me, and my skin and face seemed to change a little."
"Well, you're certainly the bravest man I've seen save the emperor himself. If I weren't so clammy, I wouldn't have dropped all of my urns on the ground. Could you help me find them?"
I stepped over into the darkened area, then raised the torch and looked around. There were groups of little colored pieces scattered on the floor. I picked them up and shoved them into my filling pockets. They looked like decorative pieces of green pottery. I went back to the monk.
"Thank you," he said. "Now if you could just do me one favor, find out what's going on. I'm too cowardly to go and scour the area myself. You have obviously had some seasoned experience."
"Well, thank you," I replied. "That is exactly what I plan to do." I noticed the hilt of a sword sticking out of his pocket. "What is that?"
He glanced down and put his hand on it, then slid out what I had not expected to be a large, heavy broadsword. It had a narrow, straight edge on the front, and two long wrist guards and a gilded handle.
"Um, I borrowed this from a knight. He's deceased now. Don't ask me why I did. But if you need it, I'll let you have it just in case."
I looked down at my comparatively pathetic sword. If there was one thing I'd missed about squire training, it was using one of those swords. I walked over and took it from him.
"Thank you," I said. "I'll give it back when what's done is done. If I return." I felt scared at my sating that, but it was instantly nullified by my newfound fearlessness.
"Take care," he said as I left the room. I am now on a staircase. It winded down in an elegant manner. I descended slowly, cautiously, and at the bottom, there was another skeletal, shuffling demon. I picked up my sword, ran at it and sliced hard sideways. Its body severed, and looking down at the upper torso, I saw a third odd rune in its stomach. Its disintegrating body left the rune on the ground, and I grabbed it, giving it the same coin absorption treatment as the others. I entered the creaky door at the bottom.
I was now in a dingy underground chamber with three demons-two skeletal, and one powerfully built red one. It was almost entertaining, looking at their colors, but what happened next was most certainly not-my face and skin started to change again. I now felt very tired, not exactly exhausted, but more drowsy and irritable. I didn't want to go on, but rather lie down and doze off for a good, long time. I did not dare feel my face, but rather run at those stupid demons, cutting two in half. Those just troubled me, those bony ones. The large red one lumbered toward me. I swiped as hard as I could at its head, hitting it in the side of the shoulder and cutting off a segment of its upper torso. It was hardly the challenge I'd fathomed. I walked up to it and thrust my sword into its stomach. It reared up and punched me hard. I fell to the floor, saw my face and body pouring blood, but felt very little. Only that gentle sting you feel when you stretch a burn mark. I would know, what with those terribly unreliable torches that travel down the handle and burn your fist. That reminded me. Had I left it in the room above? No, with my messenger's instincts, I carried it with me, and I would see it burning up the floor. I got up and skewered him again, and the demon fell.
I noticed a small fountain in the corner. It was in the shape of a little devil's mouth, and it was pouring out vile water. Next to is was a small red urn filled with water. I couldn't take it, I was carrying too much. Oh well. On the way out, I tripped over something. Damn that stupid tablet. It looked like a tombstone on the ground. I studied the top and saw, in my language, that the word Xel'lotath was inscribed in it. There was a little green symbol below, looking somewhat like the first little rune I'd picked up. Interesting, but I don't want to take it with me. Too much stuff to carry. I picked up my torch and headed for the door.
What's that? There's a demon in this old corridor? I was not expecting such! I ran it through, and came out in a circular room. There was a thin path connecting it to another, with bookshelves and a desk. I entered to see a man walk through a sliding door. It closed behind him. I walked up to it and looked for a handle. There was none, and I couldn't slide it open. I decided to search the area, and came up with a handful. Another stone tablet, this time with the word 'Antorbok', was lying in the corner. The symbol on it was the same, I was sure, as one of the rune's I'd found in the demon bodies. I saw a large scroll on the table. I read it, and by now, I was honestly hoping it would be a cure for my little sickness. No such luck, but it had two words on it, 'Antorbok' and Magermor'. At the top, it was labeled 'enchant item'. Was this some sort of spell? I saw the coin glowing in my pocket. Pulling it out, the three symbols of the runes I'd picked up were now painted on the front. They were labeled respectively, and there was a shimmering light, like a storm of magical energy, connecting them. It must have been a spell. I raised my sword for effect, and read out loud, "Magermor, Antorbok, Xel'lotath"! The first things I noticed were the three green symbols appearing around me on the floor. Then they shined brightly, and my sword was now illuminated with a bright green glow. Magical sparks fell off, which gave a gently warn feeling to my skin. I swung it, and it made a tearing sound like the wind.
I decided to leave, and I stepped on something. Looking down, I saw a plate in the ground. It pushed downward under my weight, and it had three colorful holes in it. I heard a sliding sound behind me, and I looked back to see the door open. I stepped off, and it closed. I looked at the three holes again. Now what do I have three of that might fit in these and weigh down the thing? I pulled out the pieces of blue urn. Maybe the spell could do something to it. I looked at the spell again, and chanted it loudly. The same effects ensued, but I was quaintly surprised when the pieces of urn flew out of my hand and clattered together, forming the perfected blue pot I'd picked up earlier. I tossed it, and it was just as solid as if it were fixed. I did the same to the green pot, then remembered the red one. After unsuccessfully trying to weight it down with the tablet (it overlapped), I returned to the room with the spitting devil.
I picked up the red urn. Why would it be filled up like that? Maybe the extra weight was necessary? I placed the smaller urns under the flow and filled them to the top with the rank fluid. Holding them tightly against me, I tiptoed back to the studying room and placed each of the urns into their holsters. The weight seemed just enough to press it down and activate the door. Success! I picked up my sword and torch, and walked in. And to my luck, the spell is now activating again. My face feels hard and dry. My skin is withered and blackened in some areas. I felt my face, and I would honestly feel parts of my skin splitting, revealing some of my flash and muscles to the cold air. I began to feel more tired. More tired and irritable. Worse than before. Could barely feel himself, but it, good yes because I would be pain if not for it. He spokes in the demon voice. The demon voice seems scary not but now.
"So, you have come to return my book. Very well then, I will reward you with a swift and merciful death," says scary.
He they lumber towards me. I cut the arms off. He scratches with sharp claws. Not feels anything! But getting tired, I fall. I cannot move, getting darker and tired. But the yellow light! It shines! I yes, getting up, but still battered. I slice his head away, I slice heads, heads slicing gone, and they're done! I've won? A little candle house, stone tablet next to it. What, little key? Bishops hiding! It!
Going back, yes, very important. Important to do, warn Charlemeign! Back in the study, little skeletal attacks. Two! Weak, also. I cannot believe I waste my time. I have to warn him! Charlemeign! Still, but little scorpion. I do not want to alarm it. I creep by in all stealth! He does not hear! More? Three more. But I creep by, efficient like a Byzantine ninja! I'm going up stairs now, time and again. Will it not get old? Three more demons? Punch me, I will knock you off to your death! I will cut you. Also, I will cut you. No more body, cut in two and useless!
What is this? More cursed light? I can barely see! I can not. I'm blind like a rat with wings! But I'm not blind! I can see so much! I see the ladder, yes. Oh, no, no more skin. Rot the skin! Cursed it is, I feel cleaner. Cold though. Oh, and wonderful luck. What is that? What in Hades? It's tall. Tall and but red. Now what with do claws and many heads! I feel shocked. It shocks me! With lightning that fries body this mine. I slice like a demons before. He is crushing, me it feels. But I'm not feeling now. Yes, I seem to fall, but yellow light does its job. Knows its place in this empire. But slicing not? No yes, he is falling.
Back down, but not free! More demons, black and skeletal. Slicing is doing best. Stare at me? Put yes, Scramasax blade in eyes! Now, final stroke of fate? Does what now. Door to destiny! But no, he is not dead. But lying there, charred and blackened what why! How did this go? I did my job like best he's could ask me.
"Charlemeign!" I scream. Yes, dramatic like pageantry. But what, I am down, but still can I hear him voice.
"You are a fool for trying to save him, Anthony! His fate was decided many centuries ago, as is the fate of this world. Despite your faith, there is little to save you from the power of Chattur'gha!" He breaks open, and mantises. Claws body thin but. I'm falls asleep, too tired, no yellow light.
---
What you want out? I stay but. Me can not yes stay, but yours do not lift. I will sleep. Clean no, stays out! I disturb not do not want! I will not let this! Slicing, yes! Just weak like black demons! Keep down here. No, you not me being removed. Guard? I'm guard? No, I'm a messenger. I'm not guarding as asleep! No counting on it, will you? Not? Why armored? Like a knight 23 bc. Funny plate dress! No! Oddly plumed helmet, red feather? Red ruby my eye? What is. What doing what is for?
---
What asleep? Not restless, but try sleep. Long times, and. I can oh not move. Head is stuck! But how come. I see! I see again, yellow light is filling, yes. Its dark, can barely see! Monk! Monk is here! How can it be done? Charlemeign! Gone, dead, why? No, no! It is done! Likes maces! Spikes!
"Charlemeign!" dramatic like pageantry. Yes, no but slice! Weak! Like demon no but strike, down but, what is? No not! Not me now, I have gone enough sacrifice to end his! Now, no yellow light. White, though! Kneel over me? But kneel? White now! I what?
Why?
Things have always been fair at the Oblie Cathedral here in Amiens. I would deliver messages to and from our Emperor, and I would attend meetings to which purpose I couldn't begin to imagine. It was really more than I'd deserved. But things had seemed to change a little bit lately. What was once for the good of the people was now for the good of the empire. What once might have been a break in taxes for a region might now be more pocket money for the hierarchy. And I knew that it wasn't necessarily the emperor's fault, but rather a fault in human nature. I'd heard of many empires of the past, most of which collapsed because of petty squabbles between races and the undoing of mankind. And whenever a breakthrough had come, a selfish person would move to stifle it.
I am now heading down to my quarters after a long meeting with some new members of the church. Many monks come and go over the months. Some move on to pursue activity in other or higher areas of the empire. I personally do not see what could be more important that the very talks which will decide the future of a large part of the world. I have been summoned by Brother Jasper, who has an important message to be delivered. Of course, being the messenger, it was my potency to make sure that nothing, whether it be a vial of the plague or a terrible curse, should harm the emperor. One such mishap had already happened, and though we were absolutely sure that nothing was wrong, the bishop was quick to order the guards to cremate what might have been a very beautiful solar clock.
"Deliver this to our lord and Emperor, Charlemeign the Frank. No one but him must see it. There are words for his eyes only. At once!" said Brother Jasper to me as if it were very urgent. He handed a small scroll to me.
I would have asked him what it was had he not ducked away quickly to avoid confrontation. Brother Jasper had always been very faithful, but today he seemed different. His face looked darker and his eyes looked as if he had been up very late. I knew that I should trust no one. I ducked into a corner and took the seal off, then opened the scroll and saw odd- looking sigils. I wondered if they could be some sort of witchcraft, and as if on cue, a bright blast of yellow light shot out and hit me in the face. It didn't burn, or even leave a luminescence in my eyes, but the impact seemed to kick me back against the wall. I stood up again, surprised by the ordeal.
"What sorcery is this, s spell? I am bewitched! If this was meant for Charlemeign, then what will become of him? I have to warn him of this treachery," I exclaimed.
I ran off to the main hall of the cathedral. Inside, there was the usual quiet group of monks who were praying to our lord. I went over to the meeting chamber and rattled the locked door. I banged on it and yelled, but no one had come to answer. Finally, I was asked to be quiet by one of the monks. Looking over, I have noticed that everyone in the chapel seems sad about something.
"What is wrong, brother?" I whispered to him as I walked over to the pew.
"Brother Martin, loyal 30-year follower of the church has died a most horrible death," he replied.
"Brother Martin? How come? What has happened to him?"
"Apparently, he's fallen off of a high tower on this chapel."
"A tower? That is how he's ended his life? But why? Surely you couldn't do this by accident," I said, not believing that anyone, particularly such a smart and careful person, could be so foolish as to merely jump over two guard rails and throw himself off. The monk stared at me silently, then resumed his prayer. I had a rather bad feeling that he, or someone in this church, was trying to hide something. I walked over to the priest.
"Messenger, what dost thou beseech this morn?"
"Oh nothing," I said. I'd intended to let my curiosity get the best of me to see just what had actually happened. The priest looked away, and I sneaked around him to the coffin on the altar. It was clearly Brother Martin's coffin. I looked around to make sure that nobody was looking. No one was. I placed my hand on the side and lifted the top. What I'd seen was a little more than what I'd expected. Martin's body looked as if an ogre had run it through with a blade the size of a table. More realistically, it looked as if something had burst from his insides and ripped him open. His stomach had a deep, vile pit in it, and it seemed like most of his organs were missing. There were innumerable cuts and gashes in his upper and lower body. No fall from any structure, save the top of Mount Olympus (pardon my inclusion of Greek mythology in this) could cause this to someone's body.
"What art thou doing? Stop!" yelled the priest, who had heard my unwitting exclamation. I froze, and the other monks and him walked over to the coffin and looked inside. They were as aghast as I was. We stood there for a minute, while the monks speculated with the priest on what had happened. Some thought it was a murder, but I was now sure that something deeper, more sinister was involved. Before I knew it, almost everyone had left, and a monk stood before me.
"You have proven what we have feared the most. This man has been a victim of great evil! Look how his body has been defiled," he said as he cast his hand toward the mangled corpse, "as if something has burst out from inside of him! Here, take this for your protection," he said as he handed me a short blade. "And find the bishop! He must be informed of this horrible discovery," he added as he walked off.
I stood there, all of a sudden feeling very excited, but frightened just the same. Had that monk taken this a little bit melodramatically, or was I just being a fool? Had lifting up the lid of that coffin out of my own curiosity really set off the cathedral so strongly? I felt sick for opening the coffin in the first place. I examined the weapon the monk had given me. It was short, thick and heavy, almost like a meat cleaver. But it was also sharpened on both sides, and the blade narrowed down to a triangular tip. And just why would a monk of the church be packing this ugly weapon? There were too many questions running through my head and nothing close to an answer. I decided to head upstairs to look for the key to the meeting chamber.
As I walked up, I noticed something odd. The light in front of me flickered, as if the stairs were an apparition. I dismissed it, but it only got stronger. It rippled and shook, and I tried to stop, but I tripped foreword into it. Everything went back to perspective, but looking ahead, I saw a massive shrine on the end of a long bridge, lined with pedestals. I looked back to see that the stairs were gone, and that I was no longer in a temple, but a massive hall of a sort. On the sides of the bridge was an empty abyss. I walked slowly foreword, trying not to stumble by again and making an attempt to absorb my surroundings. There were two statues at the start of the bridge. One was of a beautiful young woman, barely clad and carrying a short, narrow blade. The other was broken in half, and the bottom displayed what looked like an armored 'skirt' mail and two sandled feet. I tried to convince myself that these had no significance whatsoever. I walked along, and casually glanced at the floor in front of me. What I saw had shocked me.
The floor is lined with faces. Bald, screaming human faces that moan quietly throughout the chamber. The moans echoed through the chamber like a very disgusting mass execution. I hurried through, and as I got farther up the bridge, the faces yelled louder, and began to push out at me. I screamed, stomped some of them and ran all the way to the end. I saw in front of me a large, rotting hand on a pedestal, closed over a thick book. It slowly lifted open, as if welcoming me to take it. By now, the screams had grown unbearable, and the faces were beginning to lift me off of the floor. I grabbed it with both arms, and a series of quick, blinding images flashed through me. There were brief apparitions of people being tortured, and it ended with a grinning skeletal face. A low, unpleasant growl sounded, and I was on the stairs of the cathedral again.
I shook my head, now quite understanding what had just happened. The book was in my hands, and I picked it up with one arm while making sure that the air in front of me wasn't rippling. It was perfectly still. I walked up the stairs, and into the empty third floor of the cathedral. I wasn't expecting what had hit me next. A yellow light flashed through my eyes again. This time, it burned. I felt my face, and my skin was wrinkled slightly. It also felt eerily rough and leathery. I was suddenly worried about just what that spell had done to me. I felt tired, a little more relaxed, actually. But remembering the task in hand, I scoured the room for the key. After finding nothing, I noticed a small blue urn on the shelf at the back of the room. I picked it up, and looked inside. There was a green, ceramic rune inside. Half expecting it to hit me with another curse, but relieved that it didn't, I stuffed it into my pocket. My fingers fumbled with the slippery urn and I dropped it to the ground, shattering it into pieces. I picked them up and stuffed them in too.
I was going to walk back down, when I noticed a large gold coin on an altar near the bookcases. I picked it up, and thinking that it might get stolen, stuffed it deftly into my other pocket. In just a few minutes, I'd acquired a blade, a large book, a rune, a broken pot and a large coin from various sources. It was my duty as a messenger to make sure nothing got lost or left behind. The coin seemed a bit strange, however. I pulled it out again, and it shined unnaturally. I saw the palm-sized rune glowing in my pocket as well, and I placed them together. The rune spun quickly out of my hand, then seemed to get sucked into the coin. This couldn't be good, I thought. I dismissed the thought and bumped my back on something. Turning around, I noticed that one of the books on the shelf stuck out oddly, as if it had been glued in place. I pushed it back it, and what happened next came completely by surprise. The shelf to the left of me slid open, revealing a ladder that extended into a dark hallway.
I decided that curiosity had taken me this far, and that I might as well continue. I walked down the ladder, and brought out my blade. I had the feeling that I was intruding, but I similar intrusion had apparently been made be two, three oddly clad people. I advanced on them in the dim, torch lit hallway, and the turned around. I could see clearly now that these weren't people. They were humanoid in appearance, yes, but they had clearly disgusting features. Their skin was green, scabbing heavily at places, and they had several openings in their bodies that revealed green, skeletal, rotting flesh. Not quite what I'd been looking for, but if they wanted a fight, I knew that I'd been trained well enough to. In almost a cliched demonic manner, they shuffled toward me, feet making a distinctive scraping noise on the ground, and I cut one in the stomach. It didn't stop. I sliced its arm off, hoping for the best, but it only groaned loudly and continued to advance. And to my terror, its arm grew back almost instantly. But not it's arm in the rotted state it was before, but rather a translucent green hologram of its arm. It reached out with the hologram and punched me across the face. It was shockingly solid, and it made blood trickle down from my rough skin. I swiped hard across its neck, taking its head off. Its head returned as a similar phantom entity. As it reached out again, I pushed my weapon into its spine. It broke in half, and fell to the ground, no longer moving.
Knowing how to kill them, I turned to the others to see something interesting-another apparition, this time in the chest of another, was a floating, spinning rune similar to the one I had seen before. But shocked as I was, I didn't see their blows coming, and they knocked me to the floor. Their fists were hard enough to puncture my body and draw blood. I felt as if I had been stabbed. I cut off one's ankle, which caused it to fall, then drove the blade into its spine similarly. I got up, ducked under another punch and stabbed upward into its chest. My blade got stuck, so I kicked the handle hard. It split through the spin and caused the third and final monster to collapse.
I noticed that the bodies of the monsters disappeared, but the rune I had seen did not. It lay on the ground. I picked it up and pulled out the large gold coin. I got the same eerie reaction as the other rune. It spin, flashed and sucked itself into the coin. I slipped the coin back into my pocket, and opened the door at the end of the hallway.
Well, I hadn't been expecting to see a monk down here. And what a surprise, wielding a useless torch at two skeletal demons. He strikes one, and it falls backwards on fire, colliding with and burning up a large, colorful cloth that was obviously placed to conceal a door. The door is unscathed. But the fool monk drops the torch. I walk foreword, getting directly behind the demon, and I swing out with my blade, cutting off its head. It stands there, confused, and it swings blindly. I'd almost expected its head to come back green, but it doesn't. I notice that I can barely feel my body's wounds that I'd got a few seconds ago. I lift my shirt, and the bleeding wound is still there, but it's not painful in the least. The monk gives me a disgusted look. I thrust the small blade into the demons back, then pull it out and chop it to the side. The spine severs, and it writhes on the ground. The monk, who is abashed and frightened, picks up the torch and rubs it against the creature until it ignites.
"Say, you could be a bit more careful," I said to him. "What are you doing down here anyway?"
"Well, I've been looking for the bishop, and I stumbled across an odd trap in the bookcase upstairs. Is that how you got here?"
"Yes, actually. This really isn't what I'd expected. Did you hear about Brother Martin?"
"Yes. It was gruesome. But what frightened me equally was the state of the bishop. He stormed through here, eyes flashing and skin dark and scabbed. I fear that something is terribly wrong."
"Really? That does sound a bit familiar. It's happened to me, I think."
"Why? Do you think that you." he paused for a second, then looked at me closely. "Hmm, you did look a bit younger the last time I saw you. How did it happen?"
"Well, I opened this scroll," I pulled it out to show him, "and a spray of yellow light hit my face. Nothing happened, but then that same light bathed me, and my skin and face seemed to change a little."
"Well, you're certainly the bravest man I've seen save the emperor himself. If I weren't so clammy, I wouldn't have dropped all of my urns on the ground. Could you help me find them?"
I stepped over into the darkened area, then raised the torch and looked around. There were groups of little colored pieces scattered on the floor. I picked them up and shoved them into my filling pockets. They looked like decorative pieces of green pottery. I went back to the monk.
"Thank you," he said. "Now if you could just do me one favor, find out what's going on. I'm too cowardly to go and scour the area myself. You have obviously had some seasoned experience."
"Well, thank you," I replied. "That is exactly what I plan to do." I noticed the hilt of a sword sticking out of his pocket. "What is that?"
He glanced down and put his hand on it, then slid out what I had not expected to be a large, heavy broadsword. It had a narrow, straight edge on the front, and two long wrist guards and a gilded handle.
"Um, I borrowed this from a knight. He's deceased now. Don't ask me why I did. But if you need it, I'll let you have it just in case."
I looked down at my comparatively pathetic sword. If there was one thing I'd missed about squire training, it was using one of those swords. I walked over and took it from him.
"Thank you," I said. "I'll give it back when what's done is done. If I return." I felt scared at my sating that, but it was instantly nullified by my newfound fearlessness.
"Take care," he said as I left the room. I am now on a staircase. It winded down in an elegant manner. I descended slowly, cautiously, and at the bottom, there was another skeletal, shuffling demon. I picked up my sword, ran at it and sliced hard sideways. Its body severed, and looking down at the upper torso, I saw a third odd rune in its stomach. Its disintegrating body left the rune on the ground, and I grabbed it, giving it the same coin absorption treatment as the others. I entered the creaky door at the bottom.
I was now in a dingy underground chamber with three demons-two skeletal, and one powerfully built red one. It was almost entertaining, looking at their colors, but what happened next was most certainly not-my face and skin started to change again. I now felt very tired, not exactly exhausted, but more drowsy and irritable. I didn't want to go on, but rather lie down and doze off for a good, long time. I did not dare feel my face, but rather run at those stupid demons, cutting two in half. Those just troubled me, those bony ones. The large red one lumbered toward me. I swiped as hard as I could at its head, hitting it in the side of the shoulder and cutting off a segment of its upper torso. It was hardly the challenge I'd fathomed. I walked up to it and thrust my sword into its stomach. It reared up and punched me hard. I fell to the floor, saw my face and body pouring blood, but felt very little. Only that gentle sting you feel when you stretch a burn mark. I would know, what with those terribly unreliable torches that travel down the handle and burn your fist. That reminded me. Had I left it in the room above? No, with my messenger's instincts, I carried it with me, and I would see it burning up the floor. I got up and skewered him again, and the demon fell.
I noticed a small fountain in the corner. It was in the shape of a little devil's mouth, and it was pouring out vile water. Next to is was a small red urn filled with water. I couldn't take it, I was carrying too much. Oh well. On the way out, I tripped over something. Damn that stupid tablet. It looked like a tombstone on the ground. I studied the top and saw, in my language, that the word Xel'lotath was inscribed in it. There was a little green symbol below, looking somewhat like the first little rune I'd picked up. Interesting, but I don't want to take it with me. Too much stuff to carry. I picked up my torch and headed for the door.
What's that? There's a demon in this old corridor? I was not expecting such! I ran it through, and came out in a circular room. There was a thin path connecting it to another, with bookshelves and a desk. I entered to see a man walk through a sliding door. It closed behind him. I walked up to it and looked for a handle. There was none, and I couldn't slide it open. I decided to search the area, and came up with a handful. Another stone tablet, this time with the word 'Antorbok', was lying in the corner. The symbol on it was the same, I was sure, as one of the rune's I'd found in the demon bodies. I saw a large scroll on the table. I read it, and by now, I was honestly hoping it would be a cure for my little sickness. No such luck, but it had two words on it, 'Antorbok' and Magermor'. At the top, it was labeled 'enchant item'. Was this some sort of spell? I saw the coin glowing in my pocket. Pulling it out, the three symbols of the runes I'd picked up were now painted on the front. They were labeled respectively, and there was a shimmering light, like a storm of magical energy, connecting them. It must have been a spell. I raised my sword for effect, and read out loud, "Magermor, Antorbok, Xel'lotath"! The first things I noticed were the three green symbols appearing around me on the floor. Then they shined brightly, and my sword was now illuminated with a bright green glow. Magical sparks fell off, which gave a gently warn feeling to my skin. I swung it, and it made a tearing sound like the wind.
I decided to leave, and I stepped on something. Looking down, I saw a plate in the ground. It pushed downward under my weight, and it had three colorful holes in it. I heard a sliding sound behind me, and I looked back to see the door open. I stepped off, and it closed. I looked at the three holes again. Now what do I have three of that might fit in these and weigh down the thing? I pulled out the pieces of blue urn. Maybe the spell could do something to it. I looked at the spell again, and chanted it loudly. The same effects ensued, but I was quaintly surprised when the pieces of urn flew out of my hand and clattered together, forming the perfected blue pot I'd picked up earlier. I tossed it, and it was just as solid as if it were fixed. I did the same to the green pot, then remembered the red one. After unsuccessfully trying to weight it down with the tablet (it overlapped), I returned to the room with the spitting devil.
I picked up the red urn. Why would it be filled up like that? Maybe the extra weight was necessary? I placed the smaller urns under the flow and filled them to the top with the rank fluid. Holding them tightly against me, I tiptoed back to the studying room and placed each of the urns into their holsters. The weight seemed just enough to press it down and activate the door. Success! I picked up my sword and torch, and walked in. And to my luck, the spell is now activating again. My face feels hard and dry. My skin is withered and blackened in some areas. I felt my face, and I would honestly feel parts of my skin splitting, revealing some of my flash and muscles to the cold air. I began to feel more tired. More tired and irritable. Worse than before. Could barely feel himself, but it, good yes because I would be pain if not for it. He spokes in the demon voice. The demon voice seems scary not but now.
"So, you have come to return my book. Very well then, I will reward you with a swift and merciful death," says scary.
He they lumber towards me. I cut the arms off. He scratches with sharp claws. Not feels anything! But getting tired, I fall. I cannot move, getting darker and tired. But the yellow light! It shines! I yes, getting up, but still battered. I slice his head away, I slice heads, heads slicing gone, and they're done! I've won? A little candle house, stone tablet next to it. What, little key? Bishops hiding! It!
Going back, yes, very important. Important to do, warn Charlemeign! Back in the study, little skeletal attacks. Two! Weak, also. I cannot believe I waste my time. I have to warn him! Charlemeign! Still, but little scorpion. I do not want to alarm it. I creep by in all stealth! He does not hear! More? Three more. But I creep by, efficient like a Byzantine ninja! I'm going up stairs now, time and again. Will it not get old? Three more demons? Punch me, I will knock you off to your death! I will cut you. Also, I will cut you. No more body, cut in two and useless!
What is this? More cursed light? I can barely see! I can not. I'm blind like a rat with wings! But I'm not blind! I can see so much! I see the ladder, yes. Oh, no, no more skin. Rot the skin! Cursed it is, I feel cleaner. Cold though. Oh, and wonderful luck. What is that? What in Hades? It's tall. Tall and but red. Now what with do claws and many heads! I feel shocked. It shocks me! With lightning that fries body this mine. I slice like a demons before. He is crushing, me it feels. But I'm not feeling now. Yes, I seem to fall, but yellow light does its job. Knows its place in this empire. But slicing not? No yes, he is falling.
Back down, but not free! More demons, black and skeletal. Slicing is doing best. Stare at me? Put yes, Scramasax blade in eyes! Now, final stroke of fate? Does what now. Door to destiny! But no, he is not dead. But lying there, charred and blackened what why! How did this go? I did my job like best he's could ask me.
"Charlemeign!" I scream. Yes, dramatic like pageantry. But what, I am down, but still can I hear him voice.
"You are a fool for trying to save him, Anthony! His fate was decided many centuries ago, as is the fate of this world. Despite your faith, there is little to save you from the power of Chattur'gha!" He breaks open, and mantises. Claws body thin but. I'm falls asleep, too tired, no yellow light.
---
What you want out? I stay but. Me can not yes stay, but yours do not lift. I will sleep. Clean no, stays out! I disturb not do not want! I will not let this! Slicing, yes! Just weak like black demons! Keep down here. No, you not me being removed. Guard? I'm guard? No, I'm a messenger. I'm not guarding as asleep! No counting on it, will you? Not? Why armored? Like a knight 23 bc. Funny plate dress! No! Oddly plumed helmet, red feather? Red ruby my eye? What is. What doing what is for?
---
What asleep? Not restless, but try sleep. Long times, and. I can oh not move. Head is stuck! But how come. I see! I see again, yellow light is filling, yes. Its dark, can barely see! Monk! Monk is here! How can it be done? Charlemeign! Gone, dead, why? No, no! It is done! Likes maces! Spikes!
"Charlemeign!" dramatic like pageantry. Yes, no but slice! Weak! Like demon no but strike, down but, what is? No not! Not me now, I have gone enough sacrifice to end his! Now, no yellow light. White, though! Kneel over me? But kneel? White now! I what?
Why?