Kievan silently swore to himself as he tried to hold the crossbow steady. The young rogue hung precariously over the edge of the warehouse roof by means of an impromptu rope harness, his feet placed on an open upper window ledge to give him more support. He pointed a dark, varnished crossbow through the window into the warehouse, its sights trained on Tomas who stood some distance below, talking to the Centurian rogues.
Not for the first time, Kievan was convinced that Tomas had placed entirely too much trust on the young rogue's marksmanship. When Tomas had given that first hand signal, he had almost hit Tomas's upheld hand instead of the crate behind him. With the exploding bolts that this crossbow fired, there might have been a very armless Tomas down below.
Tomas had explained to him that it was only a matter of time before the Centurian rogues figured out what was happening. The gamble was that Tomas could find out what he wanted before the rogues did. Already, Kivan could see one of the crossbow-wielding rogues subtlely scanning around to see what had caused that wooden crate to explode.
"He better know what he's doing," he muttered to himself as he waited for the next signal.
"Is this what this is all about, Tomas? Are you working for the White Orchids now?" growled Malvon menacingly.
Tomas shook his head. "No, my interests lie towards another group that is more.. involved with death?"
Malvon snorted. "Those corpse-loving priestesses? Hah! They and their undead can rot in the Abyss for all I care! The only thing am I am grateful of is that their request to track down that village wench somehow drove you out from whatever rock you were hiding under. I have waited a long time to meet you, Taker."
"I'm not here for re-acquaintances," replied Tomas drily. "I need to know where I can find these priestesses."
"Pah! I don't have to tell you anything!" spat Malvon.
"Well, that's too bad then," said Tomas as he started to lift his hand again.
"Wait!" Malvon licked his lips as he thought. "Do you really want to do this, Tomas? Cause a guild war between us and the White Orchids?"
Tomas had his hand held halfway up. "Believe me, Malvon. You have no idea how little I care about guild wars or smuggled goods anymore. Now, tell me where I can find them, or you'll be shipping splinters to the Orchids."
Malvon spoke slowly, his eyes on Tomas's hand. "Finding them is impossible. They keep that secret too close among themselves. But the group of them that left here headed west towards the mountains."
Tomas shook his head. "That's not enough, Malvon. Where in the mountains were they head-"
One of the crossbow-wielding rogues suddenly pointed upwards to where Kievan was stationed. "He's only got one man up there, guildmaster!"
iTime's up/i, thought Tomas as he gave the signal and scrambled for cover.
From his perch on his upper-level window, Kievan fired again. But instead of shooting at another wooden crate of smuggled iperculiad/i, the young rogue had taken careful aim at a nodescript sack hanging from the rafters. A pig's bladder sack he and Tomas had filled with elven firewine.
There was more than one reason why the elves called it "firewine".
The sack exploded, spewing its flaming contents all over the warehouse. Crates everywhere caught fire as the dry wood ignited. A shower of flames rained over the rogues below who were hastily slapping their clothes to extinguish the small fires on them.
"You and you!" roared the guildmaster at his two heavy-set men. "Get those crates out of here! You know the ones! If you damage any of the goods inside, I'll have your hides! And the rest of you! Find that son of a varg! I want him alive!"
The two thugs commissioned by Malvon to carry the precious crates out of the warehouse barely had time to do anything that night.
They barely had time to get all the crates out from the burning warehouse.
They barely had time to stand up after carefully placing one of the crates on the ground before the top lid lifted open and smashed them both on the head.
They barely had time to recover from their daze to see the dark figure with an orange-rimmed hood dashing down the dark harbour side.
They barely had time to mumble any excuses before Malvon stormed off, cursing loudly about being surrounded by imbeciles.
The Temple Vaults were located below the Temple itself and were generally restricted to only fully ordained priestesses. There were many fabulous tales about the treasures stored in the Vaults, vast wealth accumulated from centuries of Temple donations and acquisitions. These ranged from jeweled chests of egg-sized gems, to spectacular golden statues, to carelessly strewn heaps of gold, and so on.
The priestesses staunchly denied all these rumours, insisting that the Vaults were used to store their religious paraphernalia that they seldom used. These ranged from ceremonial gowns, to incense burners, to prayer mats, and so on.
However, no one (those who were not priestesses anyway) dared to verify the authenticity of the tales of wonderous treasures, because along with them were horrific tales of hedious defences at the Vaults to keep intruders out. These ranged from unresting undead Vault guardians, to pits of flesh-eating insects, to incorporeal spectres that stepped out from the walls to suck out your very soul, and so on.
The priestesses also denied these rumours, although the Convent Mother (tired from hearing these wild tales) once openly invited anyone curious enough to come and see for themselves. Not surprisingly, no one would.
After staying at the Convent for just over a year, Lydith's experience with the Vaults was similar to all other Initiates in the Convent. They could see the entrance of the Vaults, which was a vast, intricately carved bronze door that had only a single key hole in its centre, but they have never been permitted to enter it. Lydith and Karyn arrived at that door, breathless after running down several flights of stairs from the library roof. All the other Acolytes were already there, and the priestess Sister Fallowmoon gave them a very stern look.
"Lydith. Karyn." Sister Fallowmoon addressed them as they skidded to a halt in front of her. "Being punctual is an attribute that should have been ingrained in you when you were Initiates. It was hoped that when you were made into Acolytes that you will act like one."
"Apologies, Sister Fallowmoon," the two girls intoned meekly, respectfully bowing their heads.
Sister Fallowmoon turned her gaze to the rest of the Acolytes, as if surveying whether or not they were worthy of entering the Vaults. The gaunt priestess was one of the many instructional priestesses of the Convent of Krypta, devoted to infuse the Ways of Krypta into the many young girls who have chosen Her Path. Sister Fallowmoon was the head priestess of all Acolytes in the Convent. She was also reknown for her ever-somber attitude; priestesses were generally serious-natured, but Lydith had never seen the priestess even smile. Just barely a month ago, the priestess had heard from the Convent cooks that there was some small pilfering going on from the kitchen larders. Sister Fallowmoon had gathered all Acolytes and Initiates into the Temple's Sanctuary for a three hour lecture on the despicability of stealing and gluttonny. Lydith had almost fallen asleep on Karyn's shoulder by the time the lecture was over.
Apparently the Acolytes were found satisfactory, for Sister Fallowmoon produced a bronze key from her robes and inserted it into the key hole. She briskly unlocked the door and pushed the entrance to the Temple Vaults open. Some of the Acolytes were practically standing tip toe to see into the dark entryway, and they jumped back guiltily when Sister Fallowmoon turned around suddenly.
"You will all enter in twos. Do not touch anything. Do not enter any room unless I allow you to." She ran through a list of "do"s and "don't"s although Lydith thought that there seemed to be less "do"s and more "don't"s. Karyn, of course, immediately took Lydith as her partner as they both formed the line to enter the Vaults. Finally, Sister Fallowmoon turned and strode through the entryway, a nervous line of Acolytes following her.
Beyond the entryway was a short, dark corridor. This led into a large, circular chamber with more doorways leading out from it. At the other side of the chamber was another dark corridor. Here, Sister Fallowmoon stopped and waited for the rest of the Acolytes to file into the circular room.
"This is the first antechamber," she announced. "From here, the corridor behind me leads to the second antechamber with more rooms of the Vaults. For today, we'll survey the rooms that this antechamber accesses. Stay with in your twos and remember not to touch anything."
Karyn was already heading off to one of the doorways before the gaunt priestess had finished speaking, yanking Lydith along. "Come on!" she said excitedly as she led them to the first doorway. Upon entering the room, Karyn's enthusiam ebbed slightly. "Candle-sticks," she said in a somewhat disappointed tone of one who listened to too many fabulous rumours. Lydith peered into the room and confirmed that the room contained a long row of brass standing candle-sticks which were quite intricately designed. Next to these were other brass implements, such as ceremonial chalices, staffs, bookstands and so on. A stacked pile of rugs dominated one corner of the room. It was obvious that none of these had been used in quite a while. "Probably like not in the past century," muttered Karyn when Lydith mentioned this.
They spent some time looking through the items. Lydith noted with interest that some of them were ceremonial relics that were no longer used because their ceremonies were either too obscure, or were banned in this present day and age. The Temple of Krypta had a colourful past of bloody rituals that were discontinued after the Necrolyte Wars by the Ardanian lords. Despite Karyn's initial reaction, she too became fascinated by these. She had seen diagrams of some of them in the Temple library. "Look at this one," she said to Lydith. "I think this used to be the bowl that collected the blood from the left hand of the priestess performing the ritual, to be mingled with the blood from the..." Lydith listened half-attentively at her friend's running commentary.
It was some time before Sister Fallowmoon called everyone back to the circular chamber. As the Acolytes gathered, they could see that (like magic) several buckets and rags now occupied the middle of the chamber. "Now that you've all taken a look at the vault rooms," the gaunt priestess began, to the dismay of Karyn who whispered that they've only seen ione/i room, "You can all take a bucket and rag each and start cleaning the implements in the rooms. These are holy, sacred items that can only be touched by holy, sacred followers of Krypta. I am pleased to say that as Acolytes, you now number among these. I will be coming around to check on your progress."
"I don't believe this!" said Karyn hotly as she dumped her bucket down unceremoniously among the ceremonial candle-sticks.
"Careful, you're getting water all over the floor!" said Lydith as she put her bucket down as well.
"Then I'll use my holy, sacred rag to wipe the holy, sacred floor and wring it in the holy, sacred bucket," muttered Karyn sarcastically. She placed her rag next to her bucket and began to fiercely pull off her ring. Karyn's gold ring had been a gift from her parents and she took care that she removed it before doing any labourous work.
A shadow fell over them both. "Barely a month as Acolytes and you both have already forgotten how to use a rag, I see"
They both looked up to see another Acolyte standing over them. Karyn groaned inwardly. "Hello, Paulyn," greeted Lydith evenly. Lydith again mused to herself how similar things were between her past and present life. In Thistlewood, she had been a regular target for the town's gang of bullies led by the tax-collector's daughter Sharielle. Here, she always seemed to find herself in the path of an Acolyte named Paulyn who was a gang all by herself.
Paulyn had been an Acolyte for about a year longer than Karyn and Lydith. No one really spent much time with her, mainly because of her sharp tongue and sharper temper. It was said that she was the daughter of a wizard who was well-known for his research into strange, rare creatures. It was joked that he should spend some time studying his own daughter. Paulyn kept to herself, and seemed to take personal pleasure fashioning and throwing cutting remarks at others.
"So Lydith," she smirked. "It seems that even favouritism from the priestesses does not exempt you from certain chores."
Lydith sighed. It had all began since the day she arrived back to the Temple from her unannounced journey to the caverns of Shovrah-Ukran in what she had thought was an attempt to rescue her Aunt Daedra. When she had gotten back, she had been immediately escorted to her room. To her surprise and joy, she found Aunt Daedra there waiting for her. After their joyful reunion, Lydith related all that had happened to her to Aunt Daedra, starting from the time she had first discovered that she could "listen" to the undead. With tearful eyes, she recalled that terrible instant in the caverns where she found that her mother had been turned into a horrifying liche.
"It was her body, but it wasn't her," Lydith said tearfully while Aunt Daedra wrapped a consoling arm around her. "It was like something else was inside of her body, using it like its own."
Aunt Daedra then began to relate her story. She and the Convent Mother had known about Lydith's mother's ability to "speak" to the undead. But the Convent Mother had not been entirely convinced that the ability might have manifested itself in Lydith. When Lydith had revealed that she "heard" the undead baker speak in the Sanctuary, the Convent Mother had ordered Lydith be placed under careful observation to rule out the possibility that she had known about her own mother's ability herself and was merely trying to mimic it. Further, the Convent Mother was surprised that the ability had manifested itself so early in Lydith; her own mother's ability never revealed itself until after she had become a fully-fledged priestess.
Sister Mortimia, the priestess who betrayed them to the Inner Sect, had been one of the priestesses given the task of observing Lydith. It was conceivable now that the priestess might have informed the Inner Sect about the early signs of Lydith's ability, and given the liche access to the Temple so that the creature could weave visions of Aunt Daedra being in danger in Lydith's dreams.
"The Inner Sect is a danger to us all," said Aunt Daedra firmly. "Your mother knew that as well, which is why she left you to accoand your father to accompany me. We thought that we could stop them, and we did in a way, but your mother was lost to us then. Now, they have re-emerged. They must be stopped at all costs."
"What about the Sovereign?" asked Lydith. "Does he know about the Inner Sect?"
Aunt Daedra shook her head. "No. But the Sovereign can do little to help us in this matter. The Inner Sect has been very careful over whom they confront, and so far, none of their activities have been visibly against the Sovereign's rule. We cannot approach the Sovereign with only hearsay on what we know about the Inner Sect. We need more concrete evidence over its existance, and its intentions. With time, we will have them."
Lydith shook her head, feeling helpless. "And what about me? What should I do?"
"You are safest here, child. With Sister Mortimia gone, the Inner Sect has lost their presence in this place. And here, Krypta can guide you to harness your abilities, as She did for your mother. I will be here as well, and I swear by your mother's departed soul that I will never let anything harm you, child."
They had gone to see the Convent Mother after that who confirmed much of what Aunt Daedra had already told her. The Convent Mother had gave her strict orders to stay in the Temple and under the eyes of the priestesses at all times. She was also not to reveal her abilities to anyone, nor speak of the Inner Sect or what had happened to her at the caverns. Lydith only gave a mute nod as a reply.
The rest of the Initiates and Acolytes in the Convent were astounded that Lydith was not expelled from the Temple. Rumours and speculations were conjured, many of which revolved around Lydith being a "favourite Initiate" of the Convent Mother. The months after that had been ghastly, with the other Initiates shunning her like the Ratman's plague. But Lydith kept her word and told no one of her experiences, although the other Initiates and Acolytes noticed that she either avoided any undead skeletons of the priestesses, or stared at them as if hearing something that no one else could.
The only person whom Lydith confided the truth with was Karyn. The spectacled girl was horrified to hear about the fate of Lydith's mother and had promised to look into all she could about the Inner Sect from the vast Temple library.
Paulyn held another bucket in one hand and a bundle of rags in the other. She seemed to take it as her personal duty to mock Lydith whenever she could. "I thought I'd better come and see that you two actually do some work. Not that Lydith will get into trouble if she didn't do any."
"Are you here to make silly remarks, or are you here to clean things?" demanded Karyn, clearly irritated.
The three of them proceeded to wipe down the brass candle-sticks, and then the range of implements piled in the room. Paulyn surprisingly held her tongue throughout the time, much to Lydith and Karyn's relief. It was only after almost cleaning a third of the room when Karyn uncovered a strange object lying beneath a stack of old prayer mats and called the other two to come and see.
"What do you think it is?" asked Lydith as they examined it. It was a lead cylinder-shaped block which stood about a foot and a half in height and a foot in diameter. Kryptian runes decorated its sides, none of which any of them could read.
Karyn frowned as she pushed her spectacles up. "I've never seen anything like this in the books on worship implements."
"It could be a container," said Paulyn suddenly, much to their surprise. She pointed at the edge near the top of the block. "Look, there are hinges. It's hard to see because they look like part of the engravings."
"What are you girls doing?" came Sister Fallowmoon's voice from behind, making them all jump. The three of them spun around as Sister Fallowmoon loomed up.
"We,.. um.. we," stammered Karyn.
Sister Fallowmoon did not seem interested in an answer. "We have to leave for the evening prayers. Pack up your rags, and do not leave any water marks on the floor." She stalked out from the room as silently as she had entered it. The three girls stared at each other and then did as the priestess had commanded. As they left the room, Lydith spotted Karyn stealing a backward glance at the mysterious metal container in the room. And because she was curious herself, she did the same.
The warriors of discord were playing pig ball in the yard again. The traditional dwarven game was normally played by two teams of eight dwarves all riding on trained boars as mounts, with each player wielding a short club that was curved and weighted on one end, and of course a hardened pig-skin ball.
The discords had none of these. In place of the missing gear, the warriors of discord had taken anything they could get their hands on. As mounts, they were using benches, dining room chairs, broomsticks, and in some cases, each other. The game had started with two teams, but was rapidly degenerating into a brawl of four or five teams chasing either a metal soup toureen, a rusty helmet or a dead cat, depending on which the team insisted was the ball.
Sir Gameth IronEdge sighed as he watched their antics for a moment before continuing to polish his armour. The aged warrior was one of the few sane warriors left in the warrior's guild, although staying on made his own sanity questionable. Ever since the cultists' temple to Fervus had been built in Necroselleum, more and more warriors of discord (warrior followers of Fervus who have undertaken the Rite of Transformation that gives them superhuman strength, but unfortunately drives them mad as well) have joined with the city's warrior's guild. And they could not be turned away; the brutish, insane warriors have been considered honorary members of the guild ever since the war with the serpents.
One by one, Gameth's old warrior comrades left the guild for guilds in other cities. More than a few of them had asked Gameth to join them, perhaps even go on a quest for the Sovereign, anything to leave the internless asylum the guild had now become. But Gameth remained. His reasons were simple. The guild was his home. He had grown up in the guild house for the most part of his youth, occasionally leaving to be part of some campaign for the city or Sovereign, but he had always returned. Leaving the guild for good was akin to cutting his own sword arm off. Besides, there were other reasons as well. Gameth found himself hard pressed to leave some people he had grown close to in Necroselleum.
He was thinking about one of these people when a different commotion caught his attention. His name was being loudly proclaimed down the hall.
"I'm Gameth IronEdge!" "Here's Gameth!" "Don't know any Gameths, but I had a rock once named Skeve."
The voices were coming closer. Gameth poked his head out of his room door and caught sight of Aunt Daedra walking down the hall towards his room. The unamused priestess was being hounded by several warriors of discord who were unsuccessfully trying to give her directions to find Gameth.
Immediately, the aged warrior sprung into action. He kicked some of his used clothes under his bunk, cleared his wooden desk, rolled up his blanket and straightened his tunic. "Over here, Daedra!" called Gameth when he poked his head out again.
When the priestess arrived at his door, Gameth gave some measured threats at her milling escorts which sent them fleeing down the hall, one of them sobbing profusely. As the last of them dissappeared, Gameth found Aunt Daedra giving him an appraising look.
"It's a hard task finding you in this guild," she commented as she entered his room. "I was introduced to several Gameths, one of which was a practice dummy."
"Well, I value my privacy," said Gameth mildly.
A warrior of discord marched into the room unannounced, lay himself down on Gameth's wooden bunk and promptly fell asleep.
"Indeed," Aunt Daedra said unperturbed.
Gameth tried to ignore the loud snores as he firmly held his gaze on Aunt Daedra. "Have a seat, Daedra. So how can I help you?"
"I bring some news, as well as a formal request from the city governor and Convent Mother," said Aunt Daedra as she sat down on a chair next to the desk. She told Gameth about the Sovereign's request to fight the goblins and their allies-to-be for this campaign.
"Paladins and monks fighting along side priestesses?" Gameth shook his head. "I'm appalled."
Aunt Daedra smiled. "Not yet you are." She then informed him of the request from the governor and Convent Mother.
Gameth's mouth dropped open in shock. "What? They cannot be serious! Me, lead the Warriors guild into this campaign? Have they not seen the current state of the guild, or its latest members? I assumed that the Sovereign only required priestesses from the Temple!"
Aunt Daedra nodded. "Yes, but consider this. An army cannot simply consist of those who wield magic only. There has to be warriors who can protect them by more mundane means."
"But how about the paladins and the monks? They're more than capable of handling close combat and they.." Here Gameth faltered as he realised what he was saying.
"They are followers of Dauros who we cannot rely upon to protect our priestesses," finished Aunt Daedra for him. "We need our own warriors, Gameth. We cannot trust what the Dausorians will do. The Sovereign can have his little mix-matched army. But we have to protect our own backs, even from our supposed allies."
"And you want ithese/i to protect your backs?" asked Gameth sceptically, gesturing at the snoring form on his bed.
"With you leading them, we are confident that they will be a force to be reckoned with," said Aunt Daedra.
"The discords are ieach/i a force to be reckoned with," replied Gameth dryly. "It's only getting them to reckon in the right direction which is the problem."