As a group, they ventured forth into the temple to the unopened door. The explosion and following shock wave of the day before had pushed it slightly off the hinges.
Before it was a bullwark, not to be opened. But now, their united efforts were able to open it further, until all of them could squeeze through one by one.
Now, they stood in a slightly derelict chamber. In a beam of light coming from a hole in the ceiling, some plants fought for their rights to claim as much of it as possible. One of the four pillars that held the arches of the ceiling had not stood the test of time and lay across the ornately tiled floor. And to both sides, strong, sturdy oaken doors barred their way.
Shadowheart sniffed the air and told them with disgust „This place reeks of must and decay...and a good bit of necromancy."
Nonetheless, they turned to the door on their right. It was closed, but with a bit of coaxing by Astarions swift and skilled hands, it opened soon enough. This one turned on its hinges as if it was newly installed yesterday. Easily and without any noise. Behind lay a room with a prominently placed grave in the middle of it, more pillars and statues of warriors guiding the gaze to it. Rubble lay strewn across the floor, and in between it…Bones.
Tsisk wanted to go in to explore further, when Astarion held her back just before they could enter the room fully.
„Hold on, I think I see trouble."
He moved slowly and carefully, considering his every step. After investigating the tiles closely, he pointed to the spot where the grouts of the pattern met and a stone with small holes was set in.
„Traps. And the trigger must be here somewhere."
Now that he mentioned it, Tsisk could see stones like this all over the room, hidden in the intricate patterns of the floor. Gale, Shadowheart and herself looked on in fascination, as Astarion mapped the room, trying to figure out what could set off the gas vents. When he could not find anything, he shrugged his shoulders, went over to the sarcophagus and said „I mean, what could go wrong? Let's see if you hold any treasures."
He tried to push the lid off, but it was too heavy for him.
„Would you please not just stand around, render yourself useful and help me."
Gale and Shadowheart hesitated, but Tsisk went over. Together, they were able to open the lid far enough that Astarion could peak inside.
„I see something glistening. Only a little bit further, and i can reach it."
With all her might, Tsisk shouldered the lid open a tad bit more. The moment she did this, an audible click came from somewhere close by. „Oh shit!" cursed Astarion and quickly grabbed whatever was in reach. Tsisk on his heels they both bolted back to the door, but the vents already had started hissing and blowing a warm, slightly unpleasent smelling gas into the room.
Before they could reach the other two who looked on in horror, sparks lit up along their path, threatening to light the gas on fire. Tsisk knew, that that would become painful reality in a split second and pushed Astarion forward into the well-aerated safety of the doorway. While he stumbled and fell to the ground, he thus narrowly avoided her fate.
Though her momentum carried her forward, flames engulfed her fully before she emerged from them again.
The stench of burned leather and horn filled the room. When she came to a stop, scant of breath, the back of her head and one hand were red from the burns she had received and her clothes singed.
„Serves you right for stealing from the dead." Said Shadowheart. „Now show that to me. This must hurt a great deal."
Tsisk just regarded her imperturbed and watched on as she spoke a prayer to Shar. A dark shadow crept over Tsisks scales, taking all colour with it and leaving them as pearly white as they had been before.
Tsisk breathed in deeply and asked Astarion „Was it at least worth the hassle?"
„I don't know. But let's take a look. There is a dagger…"
„A magical dagger." interjected Gale.
„...that I can make good use of, thank you very much... an iron coin and a bit of cheap jewelry. I guess you can have the rest."
He said graciously, while slipping the dagger and an unmentioned potion away and into his garments. The ease and casualness of it told Tsisk a great deal about how often he must've done some similar trick.
After a bit of catching breaths and regaining their spirits, they opened the second door, that led into a roomy hall. At the centre stood a statue of a god, with a gaunt face and scraggly robes that melted into the background and made it look like it was moving from the corner of the eyes. At its feet was an altar that no one had touched in a century. The room must have been the place of worship for the god on display, since everything pointed to it and it was visible from every angle in this room. More graves lined the walls of it and more bony human remains were left on the ground to rot. This time, they did not bother to touch any of the tombs, in fear of more traps and because none of them looked especially rich or important.
After a quick scouring of the room it was determined that there were no traps and so everyone went their separate ways in exploring it. Astarion looked in every nook, cranny and urn in search of more burial objects, While Gale studied inscriptions, which were scarce and vague.
„Can we go now? We have dawdled enough time already." Shadowheart demanded impatiently.
„One moment please, I found a particularly interesting piece of wall, I think."
Gale swept his hands about a portion of the wall he stood in front of, following an intricate pattern of inlaid metal that swirled in loops and arches through the stone it was set in.
„I saw this writing in a book yesterday. This is devoted to Jergal in some way."
As his hands traced it to its end, it got ice-cold under his fingertips. With a shout of surprise, Gale jumped back, while a portion of the wall slid back and opened into a small crypt. The others gathered around curiously and peaked inside. Another sarcophagus was set up in it, with a detailed lid, hewn from streaked marble that looked like smoke trapped in stone. It depicted a figure, covered in a shroud in such a way, that the contours of a body could be seen, but the face and identity of the body would forever remain a mystery. The figures engraved on its side showed people in various states and forms of dieing and the whole process of putting them to rest.
The walls of the chamber where lined with urns that bore no names, but were made with similar skillfulness as the sarcophagus. They looked delicate and were made from the most exquisitely patterned stones.
As the other three wondered about all of it, Tsisk could hear a faint noise coming from the hall. She poked her head out of the chamber, but could not perceive anything out of the ordinary. The moment she wanted to turn back, she heard it again - a rattle and clicks, slightly echoeing. She strained her eyes to see anything in the dimly lit room. In a corner, a humanoid figure rose, but it wasn't as solid as it should have been and entirely too lanky. With gestures, she prompted the others to quieten down and pointed out the door, where now four lanky shadows roamed the room. One of them stepped into a streak of light that came from the torches of the adventurers in the crypt.
They could now see that it was a skeleton, dressed in the remains of a threadbare robe that tore new holes as they watched. Luckily, it did not perceive the light as odd and continued its aimless shuffle. Tsisk took a look around the room for any weapon that could serve her here. Pointy objects would not do against a creature that had no flesh to stick it in. But there was nothing more than what they had seen already.
At last, her gaze fell upon the urns. Though looking delicate, they still carried a hefty weight she found after taking one up. So urns it would be.
The four of them sneaked out of the room, leaving the torches behind in a way that they would have a little light but did not alarm the skeletons of their presence right away. They stuck to the walls trying to skirt the room and avoid the skeletons detection, but did not get very far before one of them turned directly to them. With a roar of defiance, Tsisk stormed over to the nearest skeleton and used the urn to smash its skull.
The years of decomposing must have made it brittle, because she found it oddly easy to do so. There had to be a lot of skull smashing in her past to notice that.
The skeleton though did not even notice its head missing. It stumbled for a bit, but caught itself and started gesturing with its boney hands. It dawned on her, that at least this one was a magic user. Her scream of „Mage" was the last thing that could be heard before the room fell completely silent around her.
Gale and Shadowheart scrambled to get moving, and while Shadowheart met up with a skeleton in rusty armor, jagged sword and shield in hand, Gale dashed to the side.
He knew, the silencing spell would not cover much space and was in search of its edges which he soon found when his footsteps could be heard scraping the gravel on the ground again. Astarion however, had slinked into the shadows and was nowhere to be seen. Tsisk had no time to concern herself with any of it, since two other skeletons in robes honed in on her. She wagered that a humanoid shape without weight would have its disadvantages and tried her luck by shoving the headless one in front of her. It toppeled over without much effort from her side, which she followed up by jumping feet-first into its ribcage.
The brittle bones burst to pieces beneath her, but now her feet where stuck in a cage formed by her act of violence. She tripped and fell to the ground. With her feet tangled up in the ribs, she could not control her fall by much and the impact with the ground knocked the wind out of her.
Rolling over, she could see Shadowheart engaged in a melee with the warrior-skeleton, exchanging blow after blow and chanting a prayer that she was not able to hear in the magical silence.
But Gale had finished a spell of his own, since three wisps of piercing blue magic left his hands. They flew over in a dizzying pattern of movement and impacted on one of the robed figures set on attacking the now prone dragonborn. As a rebuke, the other one instantly cast a second silencing spell to where Gale was standing now.
Tsisk tried to get her feet unstuck and fervently kicked at the ribs that held them. She managed to smash the rest of it to pieces and stood up to fight the remaining skeletons, which now raked her with their bare hands and tried to grab onto her.
All she could manage was to avoid their advances, though they succeeded in bruising and scraping her arms which she had put up in defence. Her salvation came in the form of a dagger that was put to the joints of one of the boney aggressors and used to leverage the bones apart. Astarion had sneaked up behind it and now quickly dismantled it in front of her eyes.
The second one got impacted by another volley of little blue stars and started to crumble visibly. A well-timed blow to its sternum that hurt her fist tremendously sealed its fate and the bones fell to the ground in pieces.
The magical silence was lifted and now they could hear Shadowhearts labored grunts and the clanging of weapons. As a group, they quickly disposed of the warrior-skeleton, too.
„Phew...didn't see that one coming." Gale said regarding the skeletons remains on the ground.
Shadowheart replied disgruntled „Can we leave now? I think that was enough trouble, we should be going." while Tsisk stood there and blew dust out of her nostrils that had settled in during the fight. She nodded in quiet agreement.
Meanwhile, Astarion pointed over to the altar, where another undead hovered a few inches above the ground.
„I think it's not over yet."
This figure though was different from the mindless skeletons. Its posture spoke of dignity and it looked upon them from hooded, sunken eyes that nonetheless seemed to hold an infinity. Dry skin was pulled taut over a skull that was adorned with gold embellishments, resembling the swirls and arches Gale had traced on the wall. The robes it wore where mere tatters, hanging loosely from its figure, but must have been rich at some point in time. Time had also burned all colour from them, if they ever were colourful.
The four of them stood frozen, unsure how to react to it until it began to speak.
„So He has spoken, and so thou standest before me. Right as always. What a curious way to awaken."
That took them by surprise. Sentient undead were very rare, most of them being consumed by rage, like the skeletons – or hunger, such as zombies. This one was neither one nor the other, but spoke with a dignified, raspy voice:
„Now, I have a question for thee: what is the worth of a single mortal's life?"
Stunned, none of the others were able to put out words. So Tsisk answered to the patiently waiting Withered.
„That would depend on the mortal. How much is it valued after everything is said and done and all deeds judged?"
It answered „Very well. I am satisfied." and then, after a pause: „We have met and I know thy face. We will see each other again at the proper time and place. Farewell."
And with that, it turned and walked away, leaving them speachless once more. „What a creepy encounter." Was all Astarion had to say to it. Now thoroughly spooked, everyone gathered their stuff. As Tsisk went to grab the torches, she noticed that the lid of the sarcophagus in the secret chamber stood slightly ajar. A shiver ran down her spine and she quickly followed the others. They left the temple and followed a deer path into the woods.
Soon, they found a proper footway, that lead them deeper into a maze of canyons and chasms. This night, Astarion volunteered to be the guard and his offer was gladly taken. But as soon as everyone was asleep, he left the camp, prowling through the night. A small shadow followed behind, just as quiet.