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<blockquote data-quote="Sir Brennen" data-source="post: 2033621" data-attributes="member: 553"><p><strong>April 19th 998</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 22px"><span style="color: Wheat">T</span></span>he chapel bell was ringing, but sounded a little muffled, and without rhythm. Something was wrong. I woke Barrick and hurried outside. By the position of the moon and stars I guessed it was a little past midnight. Heading over to the chapel, I could see several people already going up into the bell tower. Including the rest of Dwarven, Inc, I thought to myself, grinning.</p><p></p><p>Pushing my way to the top, I saw that someone had been placed inside the bell, tied to the clapper, their face a bloody mess from repeated strikes against the metal. He was obviously dead. Written on the wall in bright red were the words "His Penance Is Done". The men of the monastery said his name was Brother <strong>Guglielmo</strong>, apparently a simple-minded boy who lived in a room at the bottom of the bell tower. Charlotte had found him rifling through her things earlier that evening.</p><p></p><p>Brother Anselm had the body cut down, and tried to calm everyone. Once all the brothers had gone back to their rooms, he approached us and asked if we could investigate this tragedy. I quelled my misgivings about how these paupers might repay us. Gold wasn't everything. We agreed and headed back to the bell tower to see if there were any clues we might learn. </p><p></p><p>Too many feet had trampled through the area to find any possible marks left on the wood floor, but we saw that the writing wasn't blood as we first thought, but a red oil the brothers often used in their ceremonies. Unfortunately, anyone living there could have gotten hold of the oil. We moved the search downstairs into brother Guglielmo's room, where it appeared that a struggle had taken place, though it was somewhat difficult to tell apart from the normal disarray in the room.</p><p></p><p>Next we went and viewed the body, which was being cleaned and prepared for burial. I thought about offering a brief, whispered benediction for him, as I've been taught, but until his role in all of this was clear, I thought better of it. </p><p></p><p>Looking through the pile of his clothing revealed nothing, but it became apparent that he had been strangled barehanded before being tied with the bell rope. Brother Guglielmo wasn't a small lad, so it would have taken someone of considerable strength to kill him that way.</p><p></p><p>A closer examination revealed something else. Guglielmo had fought back against his attacker, leaving oddly dark blood and clay under his fingernails. Thinking on this a moment, I felt a sudden chill curl my beard. Tales my great uncle had told me from his days as a tomb guardian.</p><p></p><p>"We need to get to Able's grave!" I shouted, and hurried out of the room.</p><p></p><p>Hustling down the road to the lone plot, we could see immediately that it had been disturbed. Closer up, there was a pile of dirt around a shaft big enough for a man to climb through, and the broken top of the empty coffin could be seen at the bottom.</p><p></p><p>I looked around for tracks and found bare footprints in the clay-filled soil. I was able to follow them all the way up to the breach in the wall Barrick and I had used, but once inside, I lost the tracks on the scattered flagstones. Now even more convinced this was related to something that Able had been working on, we headed over to his room, also thinking that the dead boy might be hiding there, as it was a familiar place.</p><p></p><p>We found nothing of import in the room. As we talked over our next steps, the door next to Able's tiny chamber opened. A meek, baggy-eyed kid stepped out in the hall, and said he needed to tell us something. He explained his name was brother <strong>Malik</strong>, and he had been a good friend of Able's. He didn't believe the story of the suicide, because Able loved his work and his life at the monastery. On the night Able died, Malik had not been able to sleep, which was often the case for him, and he heard noises coming from Able's room. He didn't think much of it, assuming Able was going to the kitchen for a late night snack. Then he showed up dead in the morning.</p><p></p><p>We pressed him, asking if he had shared this with the Abbott. He hadn't. When asked why, he claimed that even though it was difficult for him to believe, he thought that perhaps Able truly did commit suicide. After all, who here would want to hurt him? But now, with Guglielmo's death...</p><p></p><p>He was cut off by a scream coming from below us on the compound. We rushed toward the kitchen, where the sound seemed to have come from. Inside were a couple of the brothers staring at a soup cauldron over a fire at the far end of the room. A pair of sandaled feet stuck up from it. On the mantle above the same message was written in red oil as in the bell tower.</p><p></p><p>One of the brothers there told us he had witnessed everything, that he saw Able do this, and the man in the pot was brother <strong>Edmund</strong>. Our human companions had met Edmund earlier. He seemed to act as Guglielmo's "keeper", punishing him when he did things that were bad, like poking around in Charlotte's room.</p><p></p><p>We found Abbott Anselm and asked him to gather everyone together in the chapel until we could figure out who might be the next target. Once everyone was accounted for, we told them to bar the doors and listen for our knock before opening them again.</p><p></p><p>We still needed to learn the reason for Able's attacks. We headed back over to the scriptorium and did a careful search of his desk were he crafted his illuminated texts. This time we were rewarded with the discovery of a secret compartment, and within it, a journal. Father Al quickly flipped through it, and read aloud the entry Able had written on the day of his death:</p><p style="margin-left: 20px"></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p><p>Barrick and I gave blank stares regarding the name <strong>Bernardino</strong>. Everyone else had met him earlier, and they explained that he was an older warrior who had joined the order to seek peace over conflict, though he still held on to his chainmail and sword. Apparently you miss a lot when you have dinner outside.</p><p></p><p>With this information, we figured Bernardino was the next likely target for Able. However, with everyone safely inside the church, we decided to go check out the spot Able had his vision, to see if we could learn anything there. We did a quick circle around the church to see if the dead monk was lurking somewhere nearby, and then headed outside the walls along a trail that barely qualified as a goat path. </p><p></p><p>We reached what seemed to be the spot that was sketched in the journal. Nothing was there but a lone rose bush, which Barrick stopped and took a long whiff from. With a closer check of the area, we noticed the outlines of an old building foundation, its stones almost indistinguishable from the rocky terrain. Best guess, the probably structure fell about hundred years ago. There are no signs that Able has been here, at least not since he’d died.</p><p></p><p>At this point, we agreed that perhaps it was time to bring in the Abbott on what had happened. We hiked back to the church and knocked, asking Brother Anselm to come outside. Showing him the journal page, he slowly shook his head. He told us that Brother Bernardino had often appeared jealous of Able, taking the boy's innocent devoutness and piety as a personal condemnation of his own. </p><p></p><p>Asking the Abbott to give us a few more minutes, we took him back to the church and then went to see if there was anything in Bernardino’s room to further implicate him. We found little except for bits of clay on the floor, telling us Able had been here as well. That was enough. On the way out, Marcus grabbed Bernardino’s sword, which looked fine enough to possibly carry an enchantment.</p><p></p><p>Back at the church we asked to see Bernardino outside, hoping to not raise his suspicions too early. He got up from the alter where he had been kneeling and praying fervently, as a man about to be punished for his sins might do.</p><p></p><p>Outside we asked him to tell us what really happened. He tried to play dumb; I clarified that we already knew what happened, but wanted him to tell us why. Still he denied knowledge of anything. Finally we confronted him with the journal, and Barrick implied we might get a little rough if he didn't start talking. The Brother buried his face in his hands and was about to speak, when a voice came from behind us, rough and unworldly, that made my skin crawl.</p><p></p><p>"Yes. It is time to confess your sins, Brother." </p><p></p><p>Across the courtyard in the center of the small cemetery stood Able, pale and bruised from his time in the ground, his robes smeared with clay and blood. His eyes seemed to burn with fire from the inside.</p><p></p><p>"A revenant," Aleator whispered hoarsely.</p><p></p><p>Marcus glanced at him, then back at the walking corpse. He seemed to be having an internal debate with himself, then asked, "It spoke, so it's intelligent, right? Something of Able is still left in there, so we can reason with him." Apparently the question was rhetorical, because Marcus took a step forward, and told Able he could return to his rest; Bernardino would now be dealt with properly. I exchanged a look with Barrick, and we readied our axes.</p><p></p><p>The revenant ran forward, hands outstretched, going directly for Bernardino, who was stammering at this point. Our axes flew, but the dead man's speed surprised us, and we missed the mark. On our back swing we both caught Able from behind, though my urgrosh bounced off surprisingly hard flesh, and Barrick's solid strike left only a small gash. A crossbow bolt whistled past us from Charlotte, but it too simply bounced off.</p><p></p><p>Able grabbed Bernardino by his vestments, and the old warrior cried out "We didn't mean to kill you!" That gave us pause, and I think for a moment some of us considered letting this play out between the two monks.</p><p></p><p>But what would be the fun in that?</p><p></p><p>Marcus again tried to appeal to whatever humanity was left in the walking corpse. "He's confessed! We know his sins and now the church will see that justice is done! You're free to go!" The thing's fingers only tightened on Bernardino's throat.</p><p></p><p>"It's just a vessel of mindless rage!" Father Al shouted. "There is no reasoning with it." He pulled his holy symbol and for the first time, we saw Aleator truly call upon the authority his god had bestowed upon him. "Be gone! Back to the Shadows from whence you came, in the name of Alioth!"</p><p></p><p>The undead Able scarcely noticed him, and continued to choke the helpless monk. Marcus went for his borrowed sword, pulling it out too quickly, sending it clattering onto the rough stone ground. I heard Charlotte reloading behind me as Barrick and I swung again from each side. My urgrosh bit deep this time, a blow that should have been a mortal wound for a normal man. </p><p></p><p>This only caused the revenant to glance back at me and hiss "Stay out of it!" The fire within his eyes brightened to a piercing red, and it was as if all the dread, cold and stillness of the tomb filled my mind. I stood there, unable to move.</p><p></p><p>Barrick's axe struck true again, but he cried out when he saw that the thing's wounds were vanishing before our eyes. As another of Charlotte's crossbow bolts hurtled past our heads, Marcus recovered the sword and struck. This time the corpse's flesh parted before the blade as it should, with little resistance. The blow caused the horror to falter, losing it's grip with one hand on Bernardino, who dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. Father Al pressed this momentary advantage, again trying to overcome the undead thing with the power of his belief. Again, it paid no attention to his efforts.</p><p></p><p>Barrick continued to hack away wildly, trying to do damage faster than the revenant could recover. With the aid of Charlotte's bolt of magical force, Able finally released his grip on his victim and crumpled to the ground.</p><p></p><p>Father Al bent down over Bernardino to tend to him, while Barrick continued to chop the body before him into smaller pieces. With the revenant defeated, the gripping fear left me, and I could move once more. We finally decided it was necessary to burn the corpse to ensure it did not get up and start walking around again.</p><p></p><p>The rest of the order had heard the fighting and left the safety of the church, gathering round us. With the Abbott there, Brother Bernardino admitted that he, with the help of Brothers Edmund and Guglielmo, had throw Able's body from the roof of the scriptorium. </p><p></p><p>When Able had come to him with his vision, Bernardino said he couldn't believe it. How could Alioth appear to that ... that <em>boy</em> ... when he had been faithful for so many years. Able had to be lying. With the help of the others, Bernardino took Able to the scriptorium to get him to admit his deception. When he refused, they began to punish him, harshly, for his sin, asking to him to accept that what he said was heresy. Able would not. Perhaps they were too rough, for the boy died from his punishment. They had not meant to kill him. Frightened, they had thrown his body from the roof, to cover what they had done.</p><p></p><p>The monks took the sobbing Bernardino away. In appreciation for our efforts, the Abbott allowed all of us to stay within the compound, with our weapons, for the rest of the night. </p><p></p><p>On the way back to our rooms, Marcus and Father Al discussed the metaphysical aspects of what had happened. Father Al claimed that the revenant was just a being fueled by supernatural rage over its death, and nothing of the original soul actually remained. Perhaps that's how the new gods do it, but I'm not so sure.</p><p></p><p>I mean, if Corvus the Trickster, as he escorted you to the Gates of Death, offered you the chance for revenge on your murderer with your own hands, wouldn't you at least think about it?</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sir Brennen, post: 2033621, member: 553"] [b]April 19th 998[/b] [size=6][color=Wheat]T[/color][/size]he chapel bell was ringing, but sounded a little muffled, and without rhythm. Something was wrong. I woke Barrick and hurried outside. By the position of the moon and stars I guessed it was a little past midnight. Heading over to the chapel, I could see several people already going up into the bell tower. Including the rest of Dwarven, Inc, I thought to myself, grinning. Pushing my way to the top, I saw that someone had been placed inside the bell, tied to the clapper, their face a bloody mess from repeated strikes against the metal. He was obviously dead. Written on the wall in bright red were the words "His Penance Is Done". The men of the monastery said his name was Brother [b]Guglielmo[/b], apparently a simple-minded boy who lived in a room at the bottom of the bell tower. Charlotte had found him rifling through her things earlier that evening. Brother Anselm had the body cut down, and tried to calm everyone. Once all the brothers had gone back to their rooms, he approached us and asked if we could investigate this tragedy. I quelled my misgivings about how these paupers might repay us. Gold wasn't everything. We agreed and headed back to the bell tower to see if there were any clues we might learn. Too many feet had trampled through the area to find any possible marks left on the wood floor, but we saw that the writing wasn't blood as we first thought, but a red oil the brothers often used in their ceremonies. Unfortunately, anyone living there could have gotten hold of the oil. We moved the search downstairs into brother Guglielmo's room, where it appeared that a struggle had taken place, though it was somewhat difficult to tell apart from the normal disarray in the room. Next we went and viewed the body, which was being cleaned and prepared for burial. I thought about offering a brief, whispered benediction for him, as I've been taught, but until his role in all of this was clear, I thought better of it. Looking through the pile of his clothing revealed nothing, but it became apparent that he had been strangled barehanded before being tied with the bell rope. Brother Guglielmo wasn't a small lad, so it would have taken someone of considerable strength to kill him that way. A closer examination revealed something else. Guglielmo had fought back against his attacker, leaving oddly dark blood and clay under his fingernails. Thinking on this a moment, I felt a sudden chill curl my beard. Tales my great uncle had told me from his days as a tomb guardian. "We need to get to Able's grave!" I shouted, and hurried out of the room. Hustling down the road to the lone plot, we could see immediately that it had been disturbed. Closer up, there was a pile of dirt around a shaft big enough for a man to climb through, and the broken top of the empty coffin could be seen at the bottom. I looked around for tracks and found bare footprints in the clay-filled soil. I was able to follow them all the way up to the breach in the wall Barrick and I had used, but once inside, I lost the tracks on the scattered flagstones. Now even more convinced this was related to something that Able had been working on, we headed over to his room, also thinking that the dead boy might be hiding there, as it was a familiar place. We found nothing of import in the room. As we talked over our next steps, the door next to Able's tiny chamber opened. A meek, baggy-eyed kid stepped out in the hall, and said he needed to tell us something. He explained his name was brother [b]Malik[/b], and he had been a good friend of Able's. He didn't believe the story of the suicide, because Able loved his work and his life at the monastery. On the night Able died, Malik had not been able to sleep, which was often the case for him, and he heard noises coming from Able's room. He didn't think much of it, assuming Able was going to the kitchen for a late night snack. Then he showed up dead in the morning. We pressed him, asking if he had shared this with the Abbott. He hadn't. When asked why, he claimed that even though it was difficult for him to believe, he thought that perhaps Able truly did commit suicide. After all, who here would want to hurt him? But now, with Guglielmo's death... He was cut off by a scream coming from below us on the compound. We rushed toward the kitchen, where the sound seemed to have come from. Inside were a couple of the brothers staring at a soup cauldron over a fire at the far end of the room. A pair of sandaled feet stuck up from it. On the mantle above the same message was written in red oil as in the bell tower. One of the brothers there told us he had witnessed everything, that he saw Able do this, and the man in the pot was brother [b]Edmund[/b]. Our human companions had met Edmund earlier. He seemed to act as Guglielmo's "keeper", punishing him when he did things that were bad, like poking around in Charlotte's room. We found Abbott Anselm and asked him to gather everyone together in the chapel until we could figure out who might be the next target. Once everyone was accounted for, we told them to bar the doors and listen for our knock before opening them again. We still needed to learn the reason for Able's attacks. We headed back over to the scriptorium and did a careful search of his desk were he crafted his illuminated texts. This time we were rewarded with the discovery of a secret compartment, and within it, a journal. Father Al quickly flipped through it, and read aloud the entry Able had written on the day of his death: [INDENT] [/INDENT]Barrick and I gave blank stares regarding the name [b]Bernardino[/b]. Everyone else had met him earlier, and they explained that he was an older warrior who had joined the order to seek peace over conflict, though he still held on to his chainmail and sword. Apparently you miss a lot when you have dinner outside. With this information, we figured Bernardino was the next likely target for Able. However, with everyone safely inside the church, we decided to go check out the spot Able had his vision, to see if we could learn anything there. We did a quick circle around the church to see if the dead monk was lurking somewhere nearby, and then headed outside the walls along a trail that barely qualified as a goat path. We reached what seemed to be the spot that was sketched in the journal. Nothing was there but a lone rose bush, which Barrick stopped and took a long whiff from. With a closer check of the area, we noticed the outlines of an old building foundation, its stones almost indistinguishable from the rocky terrain. Best guess, the probably structure fell about hundred years ago. There are no signs that Able has been here, at least not since he’d died. At this point, we agreed that perhaps it was time to bring in the Abbott on what had happened. We hiked back to the church and knocked, asking Brother Anselm to come outside. Showing him the journal page, he slowly shook his head. He told us that Brother Bernardino had often appeared jealous of Able, taking the boy's innocent devoutness and piety as a personal condemnation of his own. Asking the Abbott to give us a few more minutes, we took him back to the church and then went to see if there was anything in Bernardino’s room to further implicate him. We found little except for bits of clay on the floor, telling us Able had been here as well. That was enough. On the way out, Marcus grabbed Bernardino’s sword, which looked fine enough to possibly carry an enchantment. Back at the church we asked to see Bernardino outside, hoping to not raise his suspicions too early. He got up from the alter where he had been kneeling and praying fervently, as a man about to be punished for his sins might do. Outside we asked him to tell us what really happened. He tried to play dumb; I clarified that we already knew what happened, but wanted him to tell us why. Still he denied knowledge of anything. Finally we confronted him with the journal, and Barrick implied we might get a little rough if he didn't start talking. The Brother buried his face in his hands and was about to speak, when a voice came from behind us, rough and unworldly, that made my skin crawl. "Yes. It is time to confess your sins, Brother." Across the courtyard in the center of the small cemetery stood Able, pale and bruised from his time in the ground, his robes smeared with clay and blood. His eyes seemed to burn with fire from the inside. "A revenant," Aleator whispered hoarsely. Marcus glanced at him, then back at the walking corpse. He seemed to be having an internal debate with himself, then asked, "It spoke, so it's intelligent, right? Something of Able is still left in there, so we can reason with him." Apparently the question was rhetorical, because Marcus took a step forward, and told Able he could return to his rest; Bernardino would now be dealt with properly. I exchanged a look with Barrick, and we readied our axes. The revenant ran forward, hands outstretched, going directly for Bernardino, who was stammering at this point. Our axes flew, but the dead man's speed surprised us, and we missed the mark. On our back swing we both caught Able from behind, though my urgrosh bounced off surprisingly hard flesh, and Barrick's solid strike left only a small gash. A crossbow bolt whistled past us from Charlotte, but it too simply bounced off. Able grabbed Bernardino by his vestments, and the old warrior cried out "We didn't mean to kill you!" That gave us pause, and I think for a moment some of us considered letting this play out between the two monks. But what would be the fun in that? Marcus again tried to appeal to whatever humanity was left in the walking corpse. "He's confessed! We know his sins and now the church will see that justice is done! You're free to go!" The thing's fingers only tightened on Bernardino's throat. "It's just a vessel of mindless rage!" Father Al shouted. "There is no reasoning with it." He pulled his holy symbol and for the first time, we saw Aleator truly call upon the authority his god had bestowed upon him. "Be gone! Back to the Shadows from whence you came, in the name of Alioth!" The undead Able scarcely noticed him, and continued to choke the helpless monk. Marcus went for his borrowed sword, pulling it out too quickly, sending it clattering onto the rough stone ground. I heard Charlotte reloading behind me as Barrick and I swung again from each side. My urgrosh bit deep this time, a blow that should have been a mortal wound for a normal man. This only caused the revenant to glance back at me and hiss "Stay out of it!" The fire within his eyes brightened to a piercing red, and it was as if all the dread, cold and stillness of the tomb filled my mind. I stood there, unable to move. Barrick's axe struck true again, but he cried out when he saw that the thing's wounds were vanishing before our eyes. As another of Charlotte's crossbow bolts hurtled past our heads, Marcus recovered the sword and struck. This time the corpse's flesh parted before the blade as it should, with little resistance. The blow caused the horror to falter, losing it's grip with one hand on Bernardino, who dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. Father Al pressed this momentary advantage, again trying to overcome the undead thing with the power of his belief. Again, it paid no attention to his efforts. Barrick continued to hack away wildly, trying to do damage faster than the revenant could recover. With the aid of Charlotte's bolt of magical force, Able finally released his grip on his victim and crumpled to the ground. Father Al bent down over Bernardino to tend to him, while Barrick continued to chop the body before him into smaller pieces. With the revenant defeated, the gripping fear left me, and I could move once more. We finally decided it was necessary to burn the corpse to ensure it did not get up and start walking around again. The rest of the order had heard the fighting and left the safety of the church, gathering round us. With the Abbott there, Brother Bernardino admitted that he, with the help of Brothers Edmund and Guglielmo, had throw Able's body from the roof of the scriptorium. When Able had come to him with his vision, Bernardino said he couldn't believe it. How could Alioth appear to that ... that [i]boy[/i] ... when he had been faithful for so many years. Able had to be lying. With the help of the others, Bernardino took Able to the scriptorium to get him to admit his deception. When he refused, they began to punish him, harshly, for his sin, asking to him to accept that what he said was heresy. Able would not. Perhaps they were too rough, for the boy died from his punishment. They had not meant to kill him. Frightened, they had thrown his body from the roof, to cover what they had done. The monks took the sobbing Bernardino away. In appreciation for our efforts, the Abbott allowed all of us to stay within the compound, with our weapons, for the rest of the night. On the way back to our rooms, Marcus and Father Al discussed the metaphysical aspects of what had happened. Father Al claimed that the revenant was just a being fueled by supernatural rage over its death, and nothing of the original soul actually remained. Perhaps that's how the new gods do it, but I'm not so sure. I mean, if Corvus the Trickster, as he escorted you to the Gates of Death, offered you the chance for revenge on your murderer with your own hands, wouldn't you at least think about it? [/QUOTE]
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