It is said that Helia, the Goddess of the Sun, hides her face from places that have somehow gained her disfavour. If that were true, thought Lydith, then this part of the forest must have displeased the fiery goddess a long time ago. Even though it was early in the afternoon, the sunlight seemed dim and waning, and the gnarled branches of the twisted trees around them strove to give the atmosphere a forbidding sense of gloom.
"Come on! Not far to go!" came Yellow Sky's bright shout ahead of the girl and the warrior, a stark contrast to the depressiveness of their surroundings.
Gameth swore under his breath. "I'm not surprised if he's woken every creature in the forest with all that noise!"
Lydith gave the warrior a tired smile. "But at least we haven't encountered any 'bad creatures' so far." Her feet were sore from walking and she leaned against her pale staff to rest for a moment.
"Only a matter of time," grunted the aged warrior, fingering the hilt of his sword absently. "There are reasons why even rangers don't travel in here alone."
A sudden joyful shout sounded ahead of them. "Look! Come quick and see!"
"Can't that cultist keep his mouth shut?" muttered Gameth as they moved towards Yellow Sky's voice. They finally broke through the line of dark trees and saw the small man hopping up and down gleefully as he pointed.
"See!? Yellow Sky told you that he knew where the caverns are! See?" hooted the cultist happily. The four giant spiders skittered around him, perhaps intriguied by Yellow Sky's enthusiam.
The sight took Lydith's breath away. Ahead of them rose a cliff wall of limestone, higher than any of the buildings she had ever seen, even in Necroselleum. Cutting into the stone, like a gash made by an enourmous axe, was the entrance to the caverns of Shovah-Ukran. What was impressive, however, were the carvings on the walls around the entrance itself. Statues had been carved out from the limestone rock, along with words and verses, too faded by age to be coherently made out. To the left and right of the entrance rose two horn-shaped pillars that pointed accusingly at the dreary sky, their sides decorated with carvings of bones and skulls.
Lydith recognised the architecture with a sense of dread. The caverns were an ancient Temple to Krypta.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Don't be silly spiders, you silly spiders!" snapped Yellow Sky crossly as he stamped his feet on the ground. In front of him, the spiders squealed their nervous response.
"What's wrong with them?" asked Lydith, standing in front of the cavern entrance.
Yellow Sky snorted. "They don't like this place. They sense bad things inside."
"Then they're got more sense than most people," replied Gameth as he peered into the darkness. His sword was already drawn as he scanned for movement within. He turned to Lydith. "How certain are you that this might be the place?"
Lydith stared at the walls of the cliff face. The yellow, crumbling limestone was streaked with reddish lines of clay, an effect that made the walls look similar to that in her dreams. "I think so," she said hesitantly as she ran her hands on the brittle stone.
Gameth grunted. "Thinking so is all we have now, I suppose. Come on." He led the way in. Lydith gave a quick glance at the cultist who was still arguing with the spiders before she too followed the aged warrior into the darkness.
Yellow Sky glared at the spiders, which in turn stared back at him. Sixteen pairs of eyes versus one eventually caused the cultist to haughtily turn his back and march after the other two. "Some warrior spiders you are!" he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the entrance. The spiders peered after the little man and skittered around indecisively.
Lydith's eyes eventually got used to the darkness. Somewhere above, light had managed to penetrate the cavern roof, perhaps through some cracks in the stone. However, the light that filtered down was cold and lifeless. Still, it was enough for them to see and Lydith looked around, her uneasiness mounting with every step. They were in a huge natural hall, almost as large as the Sanctuary back in the Convent temple. The walls of the hall were dimly yellow, and everywhere, reddish lines streaked the walls and ground, in some places almost gruesomely like blood. The details of the whole thing caught her breath; it was exactly like the cave in her dream.
"Look there," muttered Gameth before she could tell the warrior. He gestured towards the far end of the great cavern. In the dim light, a pale altar rose from the ground, cut from the stone itself. Lydith spotted something near the altar. "Gameth," she whispered as she pointed. There, lying on the ground in front of the altar was a crumpled figure wearing a faded priestess robe.
Gameth saw the figure as well and quickened his step towards it. "Come on, girl," he said. "By the gods, if that's Aunt Daedra, I'll gut whoever who's responsible for-"
Pain!.. Blood!.. Life seeping away!.. Must kill!.. Must kill them all.. Lydith literally staggered back under the wave of bitterness and hate that came flooding into her mind. "Gameth!" she gasped, her fingers gripping her staff, her knuckles white. "They're all around us!"
And then the undead were upon them. Lurching out of the shadows, the foul stench hit them first before the ghastly view of dead skin and rotting flesh. Lydith quailed at the sight; these were not undead skeletons like the ones she was accustomed to back at the Convent. These were putrid shambling zombies; their decaying limbs reaching out towards them while their gaping mouths seemed to shriek the maddened voices in her head.
Gameth was already stepping forward to meet the shambling mob, his sword slashing towards the zombie nearest to them. His stroke sliced off the creature's arm, causing a spray of semi-dried blood to spurt in all directions. The zombie clawed at the aged warrior with its remaining arm, but missed as the warrior stepped out of the way, his sword already flashing down with another finishing stroke.
Yellow Sky dashed past Lydith to hurl several of his daggers at an advancing zombie. The small blades all buried themselves into the zombie's chest, but hardly slowed it down as it continued its awful stagger toward them. "Uh oh," Lydith heard the cultist say as he backed away.
A piercing squeal filled the air as Chompalot the spider leapt from behind Lydith to land on the zombie, bringing it to the ground. Around her, Lydith could see another spider, Cherry perhaps, webbing a zombie to the ground while the other two spiders viciously tore into the undead's flesh.
"Heh, always good to have friends like spider friends," quipped the grinning cultist to Lydith as he sprang off to help his eight-legged companions. A gibbering in Lydith's mind caused the girl to spin around to face a zombie reaching out at her. The creature staggered as she dealt it a hefty thwack! with her staff and spun wildly before ending up in the waiting mandibles of one of the spiders.
The attack was over as suddenly as it began. Gameth pulled his sword out of a still-moving zombie torso and glanced around in the darkness searching for other dangers. Around the aged warrior were no less than four dismembered zombies, their limbs still flailing uselessly on the ground. Gameth's breathing was strained and heavy. "Lydith," he puffed. "Get Daedra. Let's get out of here before more of them turn up."
Lydith rushed over to the pale altar and tried to ignore the signs of stained blood covering it. The figure on the ground had not stirred throughout the battle, and as the girl reached it, Lydith could see slight movement that indicated consciousness. "Aunt Daedra?" she whispered as she drew close.
"Lydith…" came the reply. The figure lifted its head and smiled.
And Lydith screamed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sylas gaped in astonishment for a crucial second before he found his tongue. "That's him!" he shouted, pointing a finger at Tomas who was already dashing towards the back-room door. "Get him!" Behind Sylas, Krut was struggling to pull out his crossbow while another rogue produced a dagger and threw it in one fluid motion.
Tomas leapt sideways into the doorway, narrowly dodging the dagger which had been aimed low in an attempt to hamstring him. Sprinting down the short corridor, the rogue found himself back at the tavern's taproom. Behind him, he could hear the high-pitched yells of the elven tavern keeper as he was roughly shoved aside by Tomas's pursuers. There was a wood-splintering crash from the back-room, followed by a strangled shout, "Tomas!". Tomas stopped, his hand on the tavern door handle. It was Kievan.
"Walk out of this place, and your friend gets an early tumble with the Dark Lady," came Sylas's sneer from the back-room. Tomas turned as the Centurian rogues came out of the back-room, pushing Kievan in front of them. The young thief's hands were up in submission, and nasty gash trailed blood from his forehead.
Tomas grimaced and raised his hands as well. "Let him go, Sylas. He's just a boy. It's me you want."
Fortunately, Sylas answered before Kievan could make a retort over Tomas's comment, "We'll see about that after we bring you both back to Centuria."
"What is the meaning of all this!?" voiced the outraged elven tavern keeper as he bustled into the room from behind the rogues. "No fighting or smashing things in my tavern, you worms! Otherwise, you can go find another way in and out of Necroselleum! And someone had better pay for that broken cask of wine in the back-room!"
"You will be adequately repaid," replied Sylas, his crossbow still trained on Tomas. "The Guild Coinmaster Ryand will see to it." He smiled at Tomas. "You, for one, should know never to trust a rogue, Taker. Particularly one like Ryand."
Tomas face was grim. "That's too bad. I'll ask him why before I kill him."
Before Sylas could take a step forward, the tavern front door behind Tomas shattered with a tremendous crash. Tomas was flung forwards as skeletons marched into the tavern, armed with various swords and maces. The tavern keeper gave a high-pitched scream as a huge armoured being wielding a massive sword stepped through the doorway, its eyes blazing red through its visored helm.
"Ye gods!" gasped Sylas as he instinctively fired his crossbow at the six-foot-tall monstrosity. The steel bolt clanged harmlessly against the side of the being's helm and buried itself into the remains of the door frame. Next to Sylas, Krut fired a futile shot at an advancing skeleton which simply stuck into the undead's ribcage doing no real damage.
Kievan had fallen down on his hands and knees when the door smashed in. He looked up in time to see a skeleton swinging a mace at him. With a yelp, he rolled aside, the mace landing on the wooden floor with a splintering crack! Rolling unto his feet, the young thief sprang up to face Tomas's readied crossbow. "Let's get out of here," said Tomas, to which Kievan whole-heartedly agreed.
One of the centurian rogues had a shortsword out and was desperately parrying the slashes from a sword-wielding skeleton. A well-struck blow decapitated the skeleton, its skull bouncing hollowly on the tavern floor. As the rogue savoured his triumph, the dark shadow of the armoured being fell over him. The rogue gaped in terror as he looked up into the blazing red eyes within the creature's visored helm before the massive sword split him cleanly from shoulder to waist.
"Fall back!" yelled Sylas desperately as he backed away into the room where the tunnel was. Krut was panickedly reloading his crossbow as three skeletons surrounded him. One of them struck, and the rogue stared dumbly at his crossbow as it fell from his unfeeling fingers. Next to him, another rogue yelled as the armoured being picked him up and hurled him against the wall like ragged doll.
Sylas gaped and turned to run for it, but a blurred slash stopped him mid-stride. The rogue stared at the elven tavern keeper in front of him before he grasped his throat to stop the gush of blood. The elf wiped his long curved dagger clean with a dish cloth as he watched the rogue fall to his knees and collapse face-forward. "Between you and the priestesses, I know which side to choose," sniffed the elf to the corpse as he re-concealed his weapon behind his apron.
Tomas and Kievan backed away cautiously from four silently snarling skeletons which were menacingly flailing their maces and swords. Tomas surveyed the undead assailants and said to Kievan, "The window."
"What window?" Kievan snapped as he glanced back at the empty wall behind them.
Tomas raised his crossbow and fired a fiery bolt at one of the skeletons. The skeleton was thrown back as it erupted into flames, leaving a clear path to the tavern's large, elvish-coloured glass window facing the street. "That one."
They both dashed towards the window and hurled themselves against it. The glass shattered as they landed and rolled into the street beyond. As Tomas picked himself up, he found himself facing with a grim figure in priestess robes standing in the street a few feet away.
Kievan caught his breath as he too got up. "Come on!" he gasped before he realised that Tomas was not moving. The man stared at the priestess, not even reloading his crossbow.
The priestess spoke, her voice sharp. "A fine mess you've made of things, Tomas. I should have kept a closer eye on you."
Tomas shrugged as other priestesses surrounded them. "Only doing what I'm good at, Daedra."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Being practical was a quality that the priestesses continually drilled into the initiates. The priestesses mentoring the initiates had decided that since the temple bell had woken everyone in the Convent, they might as well start the day off early.
Karyn muttered a small curse under her breath as she hefted a large wicker basket under one arm which was half-full with bundles of clothes. She had been given the task of collecting the servants' laundry from their rooms. It was not as unpleasant a task as many others which the priestesses were notorious of allocating, but getting up hours before her normal wake up time made her grumpy. In addition to her dark mood, she was fraught with worry over Lydith. Karyn knew of her friend's intention of leaving the temple in the middle of the night, and as far as she knew, Lydith had succeeded. She prayed that the priestesses would not detect her absence until much later, giving Lydith more time to get out of the city.
Karyn turned a corner and walked down a corridor through the servants' quarters of the convent. Near the end of the corridor was an open archway that led to the temple gardens and Karyn could see the pale dawn light creeping in through the archway. The sun rose early and went down late at this time of the year, again giving rise to more practicality from the priestesses as they ordered more things to be done in the longer day light.
She made her way to the nearest door and knocked on it lightly. After hearing no one answer, she pushed the door open and looked for a bundle of clothes which would normally be left next to the door. Karyn almost jumped out of her skin when she saw a dark figure standing in the middle of the room.
"M-my apologies," she stammered after a quick recovery. "I thought no one was in here."
The figure turned its cowled head towards her. Karyn could then see that the figure was wearing priestess robes, but these robes were so old and worn that they were tattered at their very edges. With mounting horror, she watched as the figure lifted a hand towards her. The hand was gaunt and skeletal with black, withered skin covering it. Fingernails caked with dried blood beckoned at the terrified girl.
"Come to me, girl," the figure hissed, its lifeless voice causing a ripple of cold fear down Karyn's spine. Transfixed and unable to look away, she took an involuntary step forward.
"Karyn!?" called a stern voice from outside. "Where are you, you dratted girl!? They are all waiting for you in the laundry room!"
Karyn blinked, as if out of a trance as the figure withdrew its awful hand. She heard it hiss to itself as it drew its robe around itself, and melted into a mass of swirling black specks. The basket toppled unto the floor as Karyn raised her hands protectively when she recognised the mass as a buzzing swarm of black flies. Before she could scream, the flies swarmed around her and out the door. When she turned, she saw the last remnants of the swarm dissipating through the open archway.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
By the time dawn crept over the sky, Lydith, Gameth and Yellow Sky had reached the major junction which joined their road to the Kings Highway. Many years ago, when petty feuds were common among the minor lords of the region, the Good King Teevus had ordered the construction of the Highway, mainly as a means for his armies to move around quickly to surpress any blood-letting which his subjects were determined to initiate. Now, not only did it serve as a military means to keep the peace, it also was a major artery into the city of Mayhew, bringing merchants and travellers to and from the fabled city and the other cities in the region, such as Necroselluem.
Mother Darkfriend saw it all, and sat back from her scrying bowl. The copper-hewn bowl was flat and wide, with symbols of Krypta decorating its inner edge. The image of Lydith and her companions shimmered on the surface of the water in the bowl which was mingled with the Convent Mother's own blood. Shortly after she had attained the title of Convent Mother, the bowl had been presented to her by an allied wizard's guild as a treasured find from the ruins of one of the tomb-like castles of the Necrolyte kings. Since then, she had studied text concerning the bowl, and had discovered a few of its arcane uses.
One of these uses was the ability to create blood stones. These were key in allowing her to scry on whomever who held one of the stones created from her own blood. The red pendant which Lydith wore glinted in the center of the scrying image. Mother Darkfriend stared at the image thoughtfully. Sister Shadowlife had left a few hours ago, bringing with her several priestesses to follow the girl's trail. Mother Darkfriend considered informing Sister Shadowlife of Lydith's whereabouts and thought against it. Sister Shadowlife was capable of tracking the girl herself, and it was not wise to reveal her knowledge so openly. She was certain that the Inner Sect were watching too, and there was too much to lose if their plan failed.
Mother Darkfriend narrowed her eyes as she observed Lydith's tired face. "Where are they leading you, my dear girl?" she muttered to herself. Wherever it was, it would bring them directly to the Inner Sect.
"Come on! Not far to go!" came Yellow Sky's bright shout ahead of the girl and the warrior, a stark contrast to the depressiveness of their surroundings.
Gameth swore under his breath. "I'm not surprised if he's woken every creature in the forest with all that noise!"
Lydith gave the warrior a tired smile. "But at least we haven't encountered any 'bad creatures' so far." Her feet were sore from walking and she leaned against her pale staff to rest for a moment.
"Only a matter of time," grunted the aged warrior, fingering the hilt of his sword absently. "There are reasons why even rangers don't travel in here alone."
A sudden joyful shout sounded ahead of them. "Look! Come quick and see!"
"Can't that cultist keep his mouth shut?" muttered Gameth as they moved towards Yellow Sky's voice. They finally broke through the line of dark trees and saw the small man hopping up and down gleefully as he pointed.
"See!? Yellow Sky told you that he knew where the caverns are! See?" hooted the cultist happily. The four giant spiders skittered around him, perhaps intriguied by Yellow Sky's enthusiam.
The sight took Lydith's breath away. Ahead of them rose a cliff wall of limestone, higher than any of the buildings she had ever seen, even in Necroselleum. Cutting into the stone, like a gash made by an enourmous axe, was the entrance to the caverns of Shovah-Ukran. What was impressive, however, were the carvings on the walls around the entrance itself. Statues had been carved out from the limestone rock, along with words and verses, too faded by age to be coherently made out. To the left and right of the entrance rose two horn-shaped pillars that pointed accusingly at the dreary sky, their sides decorated with carvings of bones and skulls.
Lydith recognised the architecture with a sense of dread. The caverns were an ancient Temple to Krypta.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Don't be silly spiders, you silly spiders!" snapped Yellow Sky crossly as he stamped his feet on the ground. In front of him, the spiders squealed their nervous response.
"What's wrong with them?" asked Lydith, standing in front of the cavern entrance.
Yellow Sky snorted. "They don't like this place. They sense bad things inside."
"Then they're got more sense than most people," replied Gameth as he peered into the darkness. His sword was already drawn as he scanned for movement within. He turned to Lydith. "How certain are you that this might be the place?"
Lydith stared at the walls of the cliff face. The yellow, crumbling limestone was streaked with reddish lines of clay, an effect that made the walls look similar to that in her dreams. "I think so," she said hesitantly as she ran her hands on the brittle stone.
Gameth grunted. "Thinking so is all we have now, I suppose. Come on." He led the way in. Lydith gave a quick glance at the cultist who was still arguing with the spiders before she too followed the aged warrior into the darkness.
Yellow Sky glared at the spiders, which in turn stared back at him. Sixteen pairs of eyes versus one eventually caused the cultist to haughtily turn his back and march after the other two. "Some warrior spiders you are!" he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the entrance. The spiders peered after the little man and skittered around indecisively.
Lydith's eyes eventually got used to the darkness. Somewhere above, light had managed to penetrate the cavern roof, perhaps through some cracks in the stone. However, the light that filtered down was cold and lifeless. Still, it was enough for them to see and Lydith looked around, her uneasiness mounting with every step. They were in a huge natural hall, almost as large as the Sanctuary back in the Convent temple. The walls of the hall were dimly yellow, and everywhere, reddish lines streaked the walls and ground, in some places almost gruesomely like blood. The details of the whole thing caught her breath; it was exactly like the cave in her dream.
"Look there," muttered Gameth before she could tell the warrior. He gestured towards the far end of the great cavern. In the dim light, a pale altar rose from the ground, cut from the stone itself. Lydith spotted something near the altar. "Gameth," she whispered as she pointed. There, lying on the ground in front of the altar was a crumpled figure wearing a faded priestess robe.
Gameth saw the figure as well and quickened his step towards it. "Come on, girl," he said. "By the gods, if that's Aunt Daedra, I'll gut whoever who's responsible for-"
Pain!.. Blood!.. Life seeping away!.. Must kill!.. Must kill them all.. Lydith literally staggered back under the wave of bitterness and hate that came flooding into her mind. "Gameth!" she gasped, her fingers gripping her staff, her knuckles white. "They're all around us!"
And then the undead were upon them. Lurching out of the shadows, the foul stench hit them first before the ghastly view of dead skin and rotting flesh. Lydith quailed at the sight; these were not undead skeletons like the ones she was accustomed to back at the Convent. These were putrid shambling zombies; their decaying limbs reaching out towards them while their gaping mouths seemed to shriek the maddened voices in her head.
Gameth was already stepping forward to meet the shambling mob, his sword slashing towards the zombie nearest to them. His stroke sliced off the creature's arm, causing a spray of semi-dried blood to spurt in all directions. The zombie clawed at the aged warrior with its remaining arm, but missed as the warrior stepped out of the way, his sword already flashing down with another finishing stroke.
Yellow Sky dashed past Lydith to hurl several of his daggers at an advancing zombie. The small blades all buried themselves into the zombie's chest, but hardly slowed it down as it continued its awful stagger toward them. "Uh oh," Lydith heard the cultist say as he backed away.
A piercing squeal filled the air as Chompalot the spider leapt from behind Lydith to land on the zombie, bringing it to the ground. Around her, Lydith could see another spider, Cherry perhaps, webbing a zombie to the ground while the other two spiders viciously tore into the undead's flesh.
"Heh, always good to have friends like spider friends," quipped the grinning cultist to Lydith as he sprang off to help his eight-legged companions. A gibbering in Lydith's mind caused the girl to spin around to face a zombie reaching out at her. The creature staggered as she dealt it a hefty thwack! with her staff and spun wildly before ending up in the waiting mandibles of one of the spiders.
The attack was over as suddenly as it began. Gameth pulled his sword out of a still-moving zombie torso and glanced around in the darkness searching for other dangers. Around the aged warrior were no less than four dismembered zombies, their limbs still flailing uselessly on the ground. Gameth's breathing was strained and heavy. "Lydith," he puffed. "Get Daedra. Let's get out of here before more of them turn up."
Lydith rushed over to the pale altar and tried to ignore the signs of stained blood covering it. The figure on the ground had not stirred throughout the battle, and as the girl reached it, Lydith could see slight movement that indicated consciousness. "Aunt Daedra?" she whispered as she drew close.
"Lydith…" came the reply. The figure lifted its head and smiled.
And Lydith screamed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sylas gaped in astonishment for a crucial second before he found his tongue. "That's him!" he shouted, pointing a finger at Tomas who was already dashing towards the back-room door. "Get him!" Behind Sylas, Krut was struggling to pull out his crossbow while another rogue produced a dagger and threw it in one fluid motion.
Tomas leapt sideways into the doorway, narrowly dodging the dagger which had been aimed low in an attempt to hamstring him. Sprinting down the short corridor, the rogue found himself back at the tavern's taproom. Behind him, he could hear the high-pitched yells of the elven tavern keeper as he was roughly shoved aside by Tomas's pursuers. There was a wood-splintering crash from the back-room, followed by a strangled shout, "Tomas!". Tomas stopped, his hand on the tavern door handle. It was Kievan.
"Walk out of this place, and your friend gets an early tumble with the Dark Lady," came Sylas's sneer from the back-room. Tomas turned as the Centurian rogues came out of the back-room, pushing Kievan in front of them. The young thief's hands were up in submission, and nasty gash trailed blood from his forehead.
Tomas grimaced and raised his hands as well. "Let him go, Sylas. He's just a boy. It's me you want."
Fortunately, Sylas answered before Kievan could make a retort over Tomas's comment, "We'll see about that after we bring you both back to Centuria."
"What is the meaning of all this!?" voiced the outraged elven tavern keeper as he bustled into the room from behind the rogues. "No fighting or smashing things in my tavern, you worms! Otherwise, you can go find another way in and out of Necroselleum! And someone had better pay for that broken cask of wine in the back-room!"
"You will be adequately repaid," replied Sylas, his crossbow still trained on Tomas. "The Guild Coinmaster Ryand will see to it." He smiled at Tomas. "You, for one, should know never to trust a rogue, Taker. Particularly one like Ryand."
Tomas face was grim. "That's too bad. I'll ask him why before I kill him."
Before Sylas could take a step forward, the tavern front door behind Tomas shattered with a tremendous crash. Tomas was flung forwards as skeletons marched into the tavern, armed with various swords and maces. The tavern keeper gave a high-pitched scream as a huge armoured being wielding a massive sword stepped through the doorway, its eyes blazing red through its visored helm.
"Ye gods!" gasped Sylas as he instinctively fired his crossbow at the six-foot-tall monstrosity. The steel bolt clanged harmlessly against the side of the being's helm and buried itself into the remains of the door frame. Next to Sylas, Krut fired a futile shot at an advancing skeleton which simply stuck into the undead's ribcage doing no real damage.
Kievan had fallen down on his hands and knees when the door smashed in. He looked up in time to see a skeleton swinging a mace at him. With a yelp, he rolled aside, the mace landing on the wooden floor with a splintering crack! Rolling unto his feet, the young thief sprang up to face Tomas's readied crossbow. "Let's get out of here," said Tomas, to which Kievan whole-heartedly agreed.
One of the centurian rogues had a shortsword out and was desperately parrying the slashes from a sword-wielding skeleton. A well-struck blow decapitated the skeleton, its skull bouncing hollowly on the tavern floor. As the rogue savoured his triumph, the dark shadow of the armoured being fell over him. The rogue gaped in terror as he looked up into the blazing red eyes within the creature's visored helm before the massive sword split him cleanly from shoulder to waist.
"Fall back!" yelled Sylas desperately as he backed away into the room where the tunnel was. Krut was panickedly reloading his crossbow as three skeletons surrounded him. One of them struck, and the rogue stared dumbly at his crossbow as it fell from his unfeeling fingers. Next to him, another rogue yelled as the armoured being picked him up and hurled him against the wall like ragged doll.
Sylas gaped and turned to run for it, but a blurred slash stopped him mid-stride. The rogue stared at the elven tavern keeper in front of him before he grasped his throat to stop the gush of blood. The elf wiped his long curved dagger clean with a dish cloth as he watched the rogue fall to his knees and collapse face-forward. "Between you and the priestesses, I know which side to choose," sniffed the elf to the corpse as he re-concealed his weapon behind his apron.
Tomas and Kievan backed away cautiously from four silently snarling skeletons which were menacingly flailing their maces and swords. Tomas surveyed the undead assailants and said to Kievan, "The window."
"What window?" Kievan snapped as he glanced back at the empty wall behind them.
Tomas raised his crossbow and fired a fiery bolt at one of the skeletons. The skeleton was thrown back as it erupted into flames, leaving a clear path to the tavern's large, elvish-coloured glass window facing the street. "That one."
They both dashed towards the window and hurled themselves against it. The glass shattered as they landed and rolled into the street beyond. As Tomas picked himself up, he found himself facing with a grim figure in priestess robes standing in the street a few feet away.
Kievan caught his breath as he too got up. "Come on!" he gasped before he realised that Tomas was not moving. The man stared at the priestess, not even reloading his crossbow.
The priestess spoke, her voice sharp. "A fine mess you've made of things, Tomas. I should have kept a closer eye on you."
Tomas shrugged as other priestesses surrounded them. "Only doing what I'm good at, Daedra."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Being practical was a quality that the priestesses continually drilled into the initiates. The priestesses mentoring the initiates had decided that since the temple bell had woken everyone in the Convent, they might as well start the day off early.
Karyn muttered a small curse under her breath as she hefted a large wicker basket under one arm which was half-full with bundles of clothes. She had been given the task of collecting the servants' laundry from their rooms. It was not as unpleasant a task as many others which the priestesses were notorious of allocating, but getting up hours before her normal wake up time made her grumpy. In addition to her dark mood, she was fraught with worry over Lydith. Karyn knew of her friend's intention of leaving the temple in the middle of the night, and as far as she knew, Lydith had succeeded. She prayed that the priestesses would not detect her absence until much later, giving Lydith more time to get out of the city.
Karyn turned a corner and walked down a corridor through the servants' quarters of the convent. Near the end of the corridor was an open archway that led to the temple gardens and Karyn could see the pale dawn light creeping in through the archway. The sun rose early and went down late at this time of the year, again giving rise to more practicality from the priestesses as they ordered more things to be done in the longer day light.
She made her way to the nearest door and knocked on it lightly. After hearing no one answer, she pushed the door open and looked for a bundle of clothes which would normally be left next to the door. Karyn almost jumped out of her skin when she saw a dark figure standing in the middle of the room.
"M-my apologies," she stammered after a quick recovery. "I thought no one was in here."
The figure turned its cowled head towards her. Karyn could then see that the figure was wearing priestess robes, but these robes were so old and worn that they were tattered at their very edges. With mounting horror, she watched as the figure lifted a hand towards her. The hand was gaunt and skeletal with black, withered skin covering it. Fingernails caked with dried blood beckoned at the terrified girl.
"Come to me, girl," the figure hissed, its lifeless voice causing a ripple of cold fear down Karyn's spine. Transfixed and unable to look away, she took an involuntary step forward.
"Karyn!?" called a stern voice from outside. "Where are you, you dratted girl!? They are all waiting for you in the laundry room!"
Karyn blinked, as if out of a trance as the figure withdrew its awful hand. She heard it hiss to itself as it drew its robe around itself, and melted into a mass of swirling black specks. The basket toppled unto the floor as Karyn raised her hands protectively when she recognised the mass as a buzzing swarm of black flies. Before she could scream, the flies swarmed around her and out the door. When she turned, she saw the last remnants of the swarm dissipating through the open archway.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
By the time dawn crept over the sky, Lydith, Gameth and Yellow Sky had reached the major junction which joined their road to the Kings Highway. Many years ago, when petty feuds were common among the minor lords of the region, the Good King Teevus had ordered the construction of the Highway, mainly as a means for his armies to move around quickly to surpress any blood-letting which his subjects were determined to initiate. Now, not only did it serve as a military means to keep the peace, it also was a major artery into the city of Mayhew, bringing merchants and travellers to and from the fabled city and the other cities in the region, such as Necroselluem.
Mother Darkfriend saw it all, and sat back from her scrying bowl. The copper-hewn bowl was flat and wide, with symbols of Krypta decorating its inner edge. The image of Lydith and her companions shimmered on the surface of the water in the bowl which was mingled with the Convent Mother's own blood. Shortly after she had attained the title of Convent Mother, the bowl had been presented to her by an allied wizard's guild as a treasured find from the ruins of one of the tomb-like castles of the Necrolyte kings. Since then, she had studied text concerning the bowl, and had discovered a few of its arcane uses.
One of these uses was the ability to create blood stones. These were key in allowing her to scry on whomever who held one of the stones created from her own blood. The red pendant which Lydith wore glinted in the center of the scrying image. Mother Darkfriend stared at the image thoughtfully. Sister Shadowlife had left a few hours ago, bringing with her several priestesses to follow the girl's trail. Mother Darkfriend considered informing Sister Shadowlife of Lydith's whereabouts and thought against it. Sister Shadowlife was capable of tracking the girl herself, and it was not wise to reveal her knowledge so openly. She was certain that the Inner Sect were watching too, and there was too much to lose if their plan failed.
Mother Darkfriend narrowed her eyes as she observed Lydith's tired face. "Where are they leading you, my dear girl?" she muttered to herself. Wherever it was, it would bring them directly to the Inner Sect.