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Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 3989566" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Terror in Freeport - Conclusion</strong></p><p></p><p>Once Thuron was sure the temple was secure, he led Brother Egil and the others to the temple tombs. </p><p></p><p>The tombs were cold, dark, and deathly still, but the feeling was reverent rather than grim. A luminescent moss hung from the marble wall, giving off a hint of sandalwood and a gentle yellow glow. </p><p></p><p>Thuron ran his hands along the moss and chuckled softly to himself. Then he lowered his eyes. “Here I must make a confession. I have lied to you all. I went astray for the best of reasons—but nonetheless I went astray. I can only swear to you I had no part in what you are about to see.” </p><p></p><p>“Why do I get the feeling,” said Kham, hands in his coat pockets, “that I am not going to be happy about what I see.”</p><p></p><p>With that, Thuron spoke a few hushed syllables in prayer and slid open a crypt. There was a rush of air, a billow of incense, and they found themselves looking at the body of—Thuron! He seemed eminently peaceful in death. </p><p></p><p>“Serpent!” snarled Ilmarė. Her blade was out in a flash. </p><p></p><p>Thuron held up both hands. “I am not Thuron, as you can see. My name is K’Stallo. I am the last priest of Yig.”</p><p></p><p>“Why shouldn’t we kill you right now?” asked Kham. He had yet to draw his pistols.</p><p></p><p>“Let me explain,” said K’Stallo. “Please.”</p><p></p><p>Ilmarė sighed and lowered her blade, but she did not sheath it. </p><p></p><p>“The Brotherhood was not the only serpent people to survive the destruction of Valossa with their intellects intact. Yig preserved some of his faithful in the farthest corners of the world. But evil—and stupidity—have a greater attraction over the centuries than does peaceful worship.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ve noticed,” said Ilmarė.</p><p></p><p>“Many of my number reverted to simple animals, or worse yet, joined the Brotherhood. Lucius found us, during his wanderings, in a small mountain village far to the north. I realized the knowledge he had accumulated might be able to lead us to a closer communion with Yig—an understanding of the divine that has all but faded away over the centuries. So I followed him during his search. I followed him home.”</p><p></p><p>“So you were the one rummaging through Lucius’ home,” exclaimed Egil.</p><p></p><p>Thuron nodded. “I snuck into Lucius’s chambers one evening to see if he had held onto any others. I believe I startled you, Egil. For that I apologize. “</p><p></p><p>Egil sputtered. He didn’t know what to say.</p><p></p><p>“That doesn’t explain how you became Thuron,” said Ilmarė. </p><p></p><p>“I slipped into this temple in human guise one evening to look through the scrolls Lucius had brought back from his wanderings. While I was searching, I discovered Thuron dead at his desk. His heart had given out during the night. At that moment I made a fateful choice. Perhaps not a wise one, or even a brave one, but one that made the most sense. I took Thuron’s place and devoted myself to the study of the scrolls.”</p><p></p><p>“That explains a lot,” said Ilmarė. “This temple has been a pit of snakes ever since. First Oriku, then Milos.”</p><p></p><p>“I should have spotted Milos at once,” said Thuron, “but I was too engrossed in my work. When I learned of Oriku’s betrayal, I should have abandoned my charade. But I was too greedy for knowledge.”</p><p></p><p>Kham shrugged. “Althares is a god of knowledge,” he said. “Seems like you’re perfect for the job.”</p><p></p><p>“Thank you Kham.”</p><p></p><p>Egil took a deep breath. “I too will keep your secret. For now. We need a leader more than ever. We will take whatever help we can get.” He blanched, looking Thuron up and down, as if he would sprout fangs at any moment. “No matter what form it might take.”</p><p></p><p>Thuron relaxed somewhat. He took out the documents Vlad and Beldin had handed to him before. “Now I will render you the only service I can—far too little, far too late.” He pointed at the letter written in ssanu. “This document promises great danger for Freeport—and for the world.”</p><p></p><p>“What is it?” asked Vlad.</p><p></p><p>“It is a public speech, an explanation of tonight’s events. I will translate it without remarking upon the obvious—it is all lies: This evening, Councilor Verlaine and the clergy of the Althares have been slain. Their murderers are the adventurers who of late discovered the caverns beneath our town: Beldin Soulforge, Bijoux, Calactyte, Ilmare Galen, Kham Val’Abebi, and Vlad Martell. After an investigation by the Council and the City Watch, we have pieced together the truth. </p><p></p><p>“Chief Councilor Verlaine, that great servant to the city of Freeport, heard rumors about town of unwholesome activities at the temple to the God of Knowledge. He hired the wandering mercenaries to investigate. They made a tremendous discovery: The temple and its priesthood were a cover for the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign, a grotesque cult of serpent people. The mercenaries joined the temple to gain its secrets, but they proved treacherous to both masters. They revealed the caves beneath the city and threatened to expose even more secrets unless the Brotherhood paid them a fortune in gold. </p><p></p><p>“The Brotherhood agreed to their demands, on condition that the mercenaries accept one final task for their serpent masters—assassinating their erstwhile employer, Councilor Verlaine. The double-crossers carried out the grim job, but they quickly found themselves double-crossed. The Brotherhood refused to pay them their blood money. The mercenaries went mad with rage and slaughtered the cultists, but were killed themselves in the battle. </p><p></p><p>“We mourn the loss of Councilor Verlaine, but his efforts brought this menace to light—and rooted it out of town, once and for all.” K’Stallo looked up, concern etched in his face. “It is the next part of the document that troubles me the most.”</p><p></p><p>“There’s more bad news?” asked Ilmarė.</p><p></p><p>“I’m afraid so. You see, the note is addressed to the Sea Lord—”</p><p></p><p>Vlad slapped his forehead. “So this goes all the way up to Drac.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course,” said Kham. “And I’m sure it involves his lighthouse too.”</p><p></p><p>“Milton’s Folly,” said Beldin.</p><p></p><p>“You didn’t let me finish,” said Thuron. “Drac’s name is marked with the Yellow Sign.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 3989566, member: 3285"] [b]Terror in Freeport - Conclusion[/b] Once Thuron was sure the temple was secure, he led Brother Egil and the others to the temple tombs. The tombs were cold, dark, and deathly still, but the feeling was reverent rather than grim. A luminescent moss hung from the marble wall, giving off a hint of sandalwood and a gentle yellow glow. Thuron ran his hands along the moss and chuckled softly to himself. Then he lowered his eyes. “Here I must make a confession. I have lied to you all. I went astray for the best of reasons—but nonetheless I went astray. I can only swear to you I had no part in what you are about to see.” “Why do I get the feeling,” said Kham, hands in his coat pockets, “that I am not going to be happy about what I see.” With that, Thuron spoke a few hushed syllables in prayer and slid open a crypt. There was a rush of air, a billow of incense, and they found themselves looking at the body of—Thuron! He seemed eminently peaceful in death. “Serpent!” snarled Ilmarė. Her blade was out in a flash. Thuron held up both hands. “I am not Thuron, as you can see. My name is K’Stallo. I am the last priest of Yig.” “Why shouldn’t we kill you right now?” asked Kham. He had yet to draw his pistols. “Let me explain,” said K’Stallo. “Please.” Ilmarė sighed and lowered her blade, but she did not sheath it. “The Brotherhood was not the only serpent people to survive the destruction of Valossa with their intellects intact. Yig preserved some of his faithful in the farthest corners of the world. But evil—and stupidity—have a greater attraction over the centuries than does peaceful worship.” “I’ve noticed,” said Ilmarė. “Many of my number reverted to simple animals, or worse yet, joined the Brotherhood. Lucius found us, during his wanderings, in a small mountain village far to the north. I realized the knowledge he had accumulated might be able to lead us to a closer communion with Yig—an understanding of the divine that has all but faded away over the centuries. So I followed him during his search. I followed him home.” “So you were the one rummaging through Lucius’ home,” exclaimed Egil. Thuron nodded. “I snuck into Lucius’s chambers one evening to see if he had held onto any others. I believe I startled you, Egil. For that I apologize. “ Egil sputtered. He didn’t know what to say. “That doesn’t explain how you became Thuron,” said Ilmarė. “I slipped into this temple in human guise one evening to look through the scrolls Lucius had brought back from his wanderings. While I was searching, I discovered Thuron dead at his desk. His heart had given out during the night. At that moment I made a fateful choice. Perhaps not a wise one, or even a brave one, but one that made the most sense. I took Thuron’s place and devoted myself to the study of the scrolls.” “That explains a lot,” said Ilmarė. “This temple has been a pit of snakes ever since. First Oriku, then Milos.” “I should have spotted Milos at once,” said Thuron, “but I was too engrossed in my work. When I learned of Oriku’s betrayal, I should have abandoned my charade. But I was too greedy for knowledge.” Kham shrugged. “Althares is a god of knowledge,” he said. “Seems like you’re perfect for the job.” “Thank you Kham.” Egil took a deep breath. “I too will keep your secret. For now. We need a leader more than ever. We will take whatever help we can get.” He blanched, looking Thuron up and down, as if he would sprout fangs at any moment. “No matter what form it might take.” Thuron relaxed somewhat. He took out the documents Vlad and Beldin had handed to him before. “Now I will render you the only service I can—far too little, far too late.” He pointed at the letter written in ssanu. “This document promises great danger for Freeport—and for the world.” “What is it?” asked Vlad. “It is a public speech, an explanation of tonight’s events. I will translate it without remarking upon the obvious—it is all lies: This evening, Councilor Verlaine and the clergy of the Althares have been slain. Their murderers are the adventurers who of late discovered the caverns beneath our town: Beldin Soulforge, Bijoux, Calactyte, Ilmare Galen, Kham Val’Abebi, and Vlad Martell. After an investigation by the Council and the City Watch, we have pieced together the truth. “Chief Councilor Verlaine, that great servant to the city of Freeport, heard rumors about town of unwholesome activities at the temple to the God of Knowledge. He hired the wandering mercenaries to investigate. They made a tremendous discovery: The temple and its priesthood were a cover for the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign, a grotesque cult of serpent people. The mercenaries joined the temple to gain its secrets, but they proved treacherous to both masters. They revealed the caves beneath the city and threatened to expose even more secrets unless the Brotherhood paid them a fortune in gold. “The Brotherhood agreed to their demands, on condition that the mercenaries accept one final task for their serpent masters—assassinating their erstwhile employer, Councilor Verlaine. The double-crossers carried out the grim job, but they quickly found themselves double-crossed. The Brotherhood refused to pay them their blood money. The mercenaries went mad with rage and slaughtered the cultists, but were killed themselves in the battle. “We mourn the loss of Councilor Verlaine, but his efforts brought this menace to light—and rooted it out of town, once and for all.” K’Stallo looked up, concern etched in his face. “It is the next part of the document that troubles me the most.” “There’s more bad news?” asked Ilmarė. “I’m afraid so. You see, the note is addressed to the Sea Lord—” Vlad slapped his forehead. “So this goes all the way up to Drac.” “Of course,” said Kham. “And I’m sure it involves his lighthouse too.” “Milton’s Folly,” said Beldin. “You didn’t let me finish,” said Thuron. “Drac’s name is marked with the Yellow Sign.” [/QUOTE]
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