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Sir Gerard d'Montfort - In his own words (a tale of Anka Seth)- Updated Nov 11th
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<blockquote data-quote="Haraash Saan" data-source="post: 4102200" data-attributes="member: 46615"><p>There were several empty rooms, and several that bore such an air of foreboding that we chose not to explore them. Best leave some things as they are. The only really interesting room was the one which had been Holton’s personal chambers. Figuring he would no longer need his possessions, we looted the room. We found hundreds of coins and several jewelled trinkets, but the most impressive discoveries were a broken symbol of Gerech and a scroll written in the language of the Dominion. Strav was quick to read it and I peered over his shoulder. Dominus was another language I had been learning, this time from Strav.</p><p></p><p>The scroll was a contract or pact that surrendered Holton into the service of Geduld. Nasty stuff. People in their right minds do not sell themselves to the God of Death. The scroll made me think back to the tapestry that we had found that had the figure of a Gerech priest leading his followers. The text mentioned Cardinal Holton, the very same Holton that became Geduld’s servant. Then I remembered the ash near the four stakes with leather thongs were someone had been tortured. It very much seemed that Holton did not sign over to Geduld of his own free will. Perhaps Mortec was right to attempt to free his soul.</p><p></p><p>Of course, in case that did not work we decided that the best thing to do was to burn the contract. Surely it could not hurt. We reassembled the symbol of Gerech as best we could and placed the parchment atop it. Morgan, in Holton’s breastplate no less, sparked a flint onto the paper. It took quickly, a little too quickly in my mind. Black smoke curled up from it as pieces began to flake away and still glowing with flames, float up into the air. </p><p></p><p>As the final discernable scrap burnt to a crisp I thought I heard a shrill but almost silent scream, and just as suddenly it was gone. Only ash remained of the contract Holton had made with Death.</p><p></p><p>There was nothing else for us here, so we gathered our booty and went to collect Mortec. </p><p></p><p>“Come on, we just burnt the contract Holton signed with Geduld. His soul should be fine now.” said Argonne bluntly.</p><p></p><p>“What?” cried Mortec in an anger that quickly subsided to annoyance, “The contract would have made freeing his soul so much easier.”</p><p></p><p>“So you are not done then?” I asked hesitantly. I feared his answer. I was right to.</p><p></p><p>“Finished? Of course not! This will take many days, depending on how willing the soul is to be judged.” snapped Mortec.</p><p></p><p>Now it was Morgan’s turn to be annoyed. “Days! We’re not waiting days for you. We have move on and get to the Games.”</p><p></p><p>“You do remember that is what we were supposed to be doing don’t you.” Morgan goaded.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, yes, but this is much more important. I’ll catch up with you in Halfast if I must.” replied Mortec anxiously.</p><p></p><p>And so it went on. We all chimed in until it was decided that we rest upstairs where we had set up a camp of sorts. Stravarious was the only one that sided with the Gnome. So it was he that carried the dead Holton to the upper levels where Mortec was to continue working on him.</p><p></p><p>Exhausted I slumped into the corner of the room I had made my own I pulled my knees up to my chin and made myself as comfortable as I could. My slumber was short lived. </p><p></p><p>I woke to the sound of the earth groaning as if it too were being woken from a deep sleep. The very ground shook. Dust which had been undisturbed for a century vibrated off walls. I coughed as I scrambled to my feet. </p><p></p><p>“Let’s get out of here!” shouted Argonne over loudening rumbles. </p><p></p><p>No one disagreed. I hurriedly gathered those possessions that were not already in my pack, and followed the loping woodsman from the room. A glance behind me saw the others in pursuit. </p><p></p><p>We quickly arrived at what was left of the Gerechian choir in the entrance hall. They had obviously gone back to what comforted them best; their dreadful singing. Snatching the reins of my horse I ran to the double doors. The thought of rats did cross my mind, but I preferred to chance them rather than stay in an ancient temple that was being shaken to pieces.</p><p></p><p>Someone had had enough foresight to light a torch. I could see it bobbing violently ahead of me, before stopping abruptly. They must have arrived at the doors.</p><p></p><p>All around me I could here the earth protest. The floor began to crack. Tiles fell from the ceiling, shattering as they hit the stone floor. The noise had become deafening.</p><p></p><p>When I arrived at the doors Strav, Argonne and Moxadder were tugging them open. A shaft of sunlight split the torch lit gloom. The doors were open! I was blinded by the harsh sunlight that bathed us. That minor setback did not stop me stumbling forward.</p><p></p><p>I coughed and spluttered as the fresh air washed through my dust encrusted lungs. It tasted so sweet and so alive compared to the stagnant, cold air of the temple.</p><p></p><p>A final ominous crash rumbled from behind us, followed by a massive cloud of dust, and then all was still. I managed a surveying glance to make sure we had all made it out of the temple. Everyone was there, including the corpse of Holton. How Strav managed it I still do not know.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Haraash Saan, post: 4102200, member: 46615"] There were several empty rooms, and several that bore such an air of foreboding that we chose not to explore them. Best leave some things as they are. The only really interesting room was the one which had been Holton’s personal chambers. Figuring he would no longer need his possessions, we looted the room. We found hundreds of coins and several jewelled trinkets, but the most impressive discoveries were a broken symbol of Gerech and a scroll written in the language of the Dominion. Strav was quick to read it and I peered over his shoulder. Dominus was another language I had been learning, this time from Strav. The scroll was a contract or pact that surrendered Holton into the service of Geduld. Nasty stuff. People in their right minds do not sell themselves to the God of Death. The scroll made me think back to the tapestry that we had found that had the figure of a Gerech priest leading his followers. The text mentioned Cardinal Holton, the very same Holton that became Geduld’s servant. Then I remembered the ash near the four stakes with leather thongs were someone had been tortured. It very much seemed that Holton did not sign over to Geduld of his own free will. Perhaps Mortec was right to attempt to free his soul. Of course, in case that did not work we decided that the best thing to do was to burn the contract. Surely it could not hurt. We reassembled the symbol of Gerech as best we could and placed the parchment atop it. Morgan, in Holton’s breastplate no less, sparked a flint onto the paper. It took quickly, a little too quickly in my mind. Black smoke curled up from it as pieces began to flake away and still glowing with flames, float up into the air. As the final discernable scrap burnt to a crisp I thought I heard a shrill but almost silent scream, and just as suddenly it was gone. Only ash remained of the contract Holton had made with Death. There was nothing else for us here, so we gathered our booty and went to collect Mortec. “Come on, we just burnt the contract Holton signed with Geduld. His soul should be fine now.” said Argonne bluntly. “What?” cried Mortec in an anger that quickly subsided to annoyance, “The contract would have made freeing his soul so much easier.” “So you are not done then?” I asked hesitantly. I feared his answer. I was right to. “Finished? Of course not! This will take many days, depending on how willing the soul is to be judged.” snapped Mortec. Now it was Morgan’s turn to be annoyed. “Days! We’re not waiting days for you. We have move on and get to the Games.” “You do remember that is what we were supposed to be doing don’t you.” Morgan goaded. “Yes, yes, but this is much more important. I’ll catch up with you in Halfast if I must.” replied Mortec anxiously. And so it went on. We all chimed in until it was decided that we rest upstairs where we had set up a camp of sorts. Stravarious was the only one that sided with the Gnome. So it was he that carried the dead Holton to the upper levels where Mortec was to continue working on him. Exhausted I slumped into the corner of the room I had made my own I pulled my knees up to my chin and made myself as comfortable as I could. My slumber was short lived. I woke to the sound of the earth groaning as if it too were being woken from a deep sleep. The very ground shook. Dust which had been undisturbed for a century vibrated off walls. I coughed as I scrambled to my feet. “Let’s get out of here!” shouted Argonne over loudening rumbles. No one disagreed. I hurriedly gathered those possessions that were not already in my pack, and followed the loping woodsman from the room. A glance behind me saw the others in pursuit. We quickly arrived at what was left of the Gerechian choir in the entrance hall. They had obviously gone back to what comforted them best; their dreadful singing. Snatching the reins of my horse I ran to the double doors. The thought of rats did cross my mind, but I preferred to chance them rather than stay in an ancient temple that was being shaken to pieces. Someone had had enough foresight to light a torch. I could see it bobbing violently ahead of me, before stopping abruptly. They must have arrived at the doors. All around me I could here the earth protest. The floor began to crack. Tiles fell from the ceiling, shattering as they hit the stone floor. The noise had become deafening. When I arrived at the doors Strav, Argonne and Moxadder were tugging them open. A shaft of sunlight split the torch lit gloom. The doors were open! I was blinded by the harsh sunlight that bathed us. That minor setback did not stop me stumbling forward. I coughed and spluttered as the fresh air washed through my dust encrusted lungs. It tasted so sweet and so alive compared to the stagnant, cold air of the temple. A final ominous crash rumbled from behind us, followed by a massive cloud of dust, and then all was still. I managed a surveying glance to make sure we had all made it out of the temple. Everyone was there, including the corpse of Holton. How Strav managed it I still do not know. [/QUOTE]
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Sir Gerard d'Montfort - In his own words (a tale of Anka Seth)- Updated Nov 11th
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