By the By, if you are wondering about what spell Sethor used, it was
Detect Magic. The DM for the game insisted Divine/Druid/Arcane/Bard spells
look different, and that each player have a slightly different looking
magic. Not only that, but the DM allowed players to ignore spell-
components if their method of casting the spell was original enough (And
made sense). Enjoy this next chapter, which takes us deeper into the
catacombs beneath Gilleston.
As soon as Sethor stepped through the illusionary wall, he no longer felt the floor under his feet. Soon he could see the walls moving upwards, and felt the light-headed feeling from falling. Then he could not see, and could only hear the sound of the screaming Kobold which has grabbed hold of his head and would not let go. The plummet downwards through the darkness ended with a loud 'thud' and several 'crunches', which caused him little concern as he blacked out.
When he came to, Sethor found he had not damaged anything; his head was cushioned by a rather soft reptile.
"What the hell!"
Sethor stood up quickly, and examined the Kobold which he landed on.
"Maybe I'm free of this annoying creature?"
Sethor had no such luck; the Kobold started moaning seconds afterwards, mentioning something under his breath about never wanting to adventure again. Sethor picked up the little Kobold and placed him on his feet, wiping the excess dust off of his own tunic with his other hand.
"We are alive?"
"Yes we are."
The Kobold looked up at the tunnel they had fallen down and grimaced. His eyes scanned the darkened chamber, looking for something. He licked his lips and went after something in the darkness. Sethor watched as the Kobold came back into the light, wielding the long dagger he had grabbed from the ceremonial tray in the temple.
"You're lucky neither of us landed on that thing."
The Kobold shrugged and once again bounded off into the darkness, coming back this time with a large, unwieldy torch. The Kobold attempted to hand the torch to Sethor, but was surprised when instead Sethor picked up a nearby rock.
"It would take to long to light that, I have a more effective method we could use."
Sethor once again started to sing, a song slightly more calming then the previous one. Pore the Kobold felt as if some inner part of his soul was being enlightened, as if something was bringing a light and illuminating his perceptions. Pore liked this magic; it gave him a much nicer feeling then the magic of the gods he had previously seen.
Sethor sang to the rock, and as he did so, the rock began to glow a dull white. The light grew stronger until Sethor had finished his song, at which point the rock itself seemed to begin to hum the melody; emitting a low hum along with the bright glow that now enveloped it.
"Would you like to hold it?" Sethor offered, shoving the rock in Pore's direction. Pore was delighted, and jumped up and down with it cradled in his arms. Sethor simply looked on, amused. "By the way, what is your name?"
"Pore, but the other priests called me little-skull."
"I think I'll stick with Pore."
Sethor started off into a nearby passage, Pore barely a step behind.
********************************************************
"So this is the temple of the forebear of Nerull. Not very impressive."
Shereth lurched forward into the center of the chamber. It was a large circular room with rounded walls and a domed ceiling, completely smooth to the touch. In the center of the room stood the sacrificial altar, a stone slab as barren and smooth as the room itself.
"I guess it will do. Come Brutus, bring in our victim."
The large minotaur moved stiffly into the room, moving as if it has never walked before. Behind him was a drow in a flowing black gown, with hair as black as a raven.
"For heavens sake Brutus, you'll fall if you keep walking like that."
'You're lucky I'm moving at all. I have to use parts of the brain that I never had to worry about before. I even have to think about when to breath. Not only that but I think the host is hungry."
"We'll worry about food later, but for now we need to move on."
Shereth stopped before he reached the altar, motioning for Bellea to come forward.
"My dear assassin, I think there is something here you should look at."
Sethor pointed at an engraving on the side of the altar. Bellea looked puzzled.
"That would be the rune we are looking for but why did the High Priest say that he didn't know where it was even though he knew the way into the sanctum?"
"Because that isn't the rune. Look, there are metal balls in the center where we are, four of them to be exact."
"Look, there are some rolling along in one of the notches. Two of them in fact."
Shereth looked at Bellea, she hated when some form of emotion played across his face. The lidless holes where his eyes used to be gave her the shivers; they never showed any emotion other then anger. His dry toothless smile of maniacal evil even gave her pause. She was dealing with something that was no longer human, no longer wished to be human, but still clung to his humanity as a way of inflicting the pain caused to him.
"You winced dear youth. The daughters of Il'Laquar should be strong, how many times have I told you that?" Shereth reached his gloved hand towards her face, brushing the bottom of her chin and bringing his hand up along towards her ears. She swatted it away.
"Touch me again and I will make sure your soul will spend eternity in hell."
Shereth just grinned, his mouth empty of all but dust.
"Much like that dear husband of yours? He is still in the deep sleep isn't he? I wonder just what happened to him. I bet the authorities at your home would love to know as well."
All Bellea could do was look at Brutus, who must have been hard pressed to keep his face straight as well. If Shereth knew what her husband really was, Brutus wouldn't be here now.
Shereth continued.
"If my assumptions are correct, then those metal balls are symbols of us, and those two moving in our direction"
"Are intruders, yes?"
Shereth grinned, motioning for Brutus to drop the unconscious Maier onto the table.
"We have the element of surprise, and at sunrise we shall see exactly what this rune can do."
As soon as Sethor stepped through the illusionary wall, he no longer felt the floor under his feet. Soon he could see the walls moving upwards, and felt the light-headed feeling from falling. Then he could not see, and could only hear the sound of the screaming Kobold which has grabbed hold of his head and would not let go. The plummet downwards through the darkness ended with a loud 'thud' and several 'crunches', which caused him little concern as he blacked out.
When he came to, Sethor found he had not damaged anything; his head was cushioned by a rather soft reptile.
"What the hell!"
Sethor stood up quickly, and examined the Kobold which he landed on.
"Maybe I'm free of this annoying creature?"
Sethor had no such luck; the Kobold started moaning seconds afterwards, mentioning something under his breath about never wanting to adventure again. Sethor picked up the little Kobold and placed him on his feet, wiping the excess dust off of his own tunic with his other hand.
"We are alive?"
"Yes we are."
The Kobold looked up at the tunnel they had fallen down and grimaced. His eyes scanned the darkened chamber, looking for something. He licked his lips and went after something in the darkness. Sethor watched as the Kobold came back into the light, wielding the long dagger he had grabbed from the ceremonial tray in the temple.
"You're lucky neither of us landed on that thing."
The Kobold shrugged and once again bounded off into the darkness, coming back this time with a large, unwieldy torch. The Kobold attempted to hand the torch to Sethor, but was surprised when instead Sethor picked up a nearby rock.
"It would take to long to light that, I have a more effective method we could use."
Sethor once again started to sing, a song slightly more calming then the previous one. Pore the Kobold felt as if some inner part of his soul was being enlightened, as if something was bringing a light and illuminating his perceptions. Pore liked this magic; it gave him a much nicer feeling then the magic of the gods he had previously seen.
Sethor sang to the rock, and as he did so, the rock began to glow a dull white. The light grew stronger until Sethor had finished his song, at which point the rock itself seemed to begin to hum the melody; emitting a low hum along with the bright glow that now enveloped it.
"Would you like to hold it?" Sethor offered, shoving the rock in Pore's direction. Pore was delighted, and jumped up and down with it cradled in his arms. Sethor simply looked on, amused. "By the way, what is your name?"
"Pore, but the other priests called me little-skull."
"I think I'll stick with Pore."
Sethor started off into a nearby passage, Pore barely a step behind.
********************************************************
"So this is the temple of the forebear of Nerull. Not very impressive."
Shereth lurched forward into the center of the chamber. It was a large circular room with rounded walls and a domed ceiling, completely smooth to the touch. In the center of the room stood the sacrificial altar, a stone slab as barren and smooth as the room itself.
"I guess it will do. Come Brutus, bring in our victim."
The large minotaur moved stiffly into the room, moving as if it has never walked before. Behind him was a drow in a flowing black gown, with hair as black as a raven.
"For heavens sake Brutus, you'll fall if you keep walking like that."
'You're lucky I'm moving at all. I have to use parts of the brain that I never had to worry about before. I even have to think about when to breath. Not only that but I think the host is hungry."
"We'll worry about food later, but for now we need to move on."
Shereth stopped before he reached the altar, motioning for Bellea to come forward.
"My dear assassin, I think there is something here you should look at."
Sethor pointed at an engraving on the side of the altar. Bellea looked puzzled.
"That would be the rune we are looking for but why did the High Priest say that he didn't know where it was even though he knew the way into the sanctum?"
"Because that isn't the rune. Look, there are metal balls in the center where we are, four of them to be exact."
"Look, there are some rolling along in one of the notches. Two of them in fact."
Shereth looked at Bellea, she hated when some form of emotion played across his face. The lidless holes where his eyes used to be gave her the shivers; they never showed any emotion other then anger. His dry toothless smile of maniacal evil even gave her pause. She was dealing with something that was no longer human, no longer wished to be human, but still clung to his humanity as a way of inflicting the pain caused to him.
"You winced dear youth. The daughters of Il'Laquar should be strong, how many times have I told you that?" Shereth reached his gloved hand towards her face, brushing the bottom of her chin and bringing his hand up along towards her ears. She swatted it away.
"Touch me again and I will make sure your soul will spend eternity in hell."
Shereth just grinned, his mouth empty of all but dust.
"Much like that dear husband of yours? He is still in the deep sleep isn't he? I wonder just what happened to him. I bet the authorities at your home would love to know as well."
All Bellea could do was look at Brutus, who must have been hard pressed to keep his face straight as well. If Shereth knew what her husband really was, Brutus wouldn't be here now.
Shereth continued.
"If my assumptions are correct, then those metal balls are symbols of us, and those two moving in our direction"
"Are intruders, yes?"
Shereth grinned, motioning for Brutus to drop the unconscious Maier onto the table.
"We have the element of surprise, and at sunrise we shall see exactly what this rune can do."