Temple of Howling Hatred
Day 4, Mid Afternoon
Gillaum’s sombre demeanour clears briefly at Errol’s question, “The city and temple have been here for centuries, lost to us for generations. We’ve been reclaiming them over the last few months.” He clearly has some pride in what is being done here.
The carved reliefs of two dwarves face one another in profile to complete an arch beyond the ledge. Through the arch, the blocky contours of a lost dwarven city sprawl in the subterranean night. From somewhere within comes an agonized wail, followed by a breathless ramble of whimpering pleas. Then the whole city seems to join the chorus with the screams of creatures mad from torment.
A squat stone structure at the entrance to the dwarven city forms the gatehouse. Beyond the open gates, an arched corridor zigzags past sturdy stone walls where arrow slits squint from every angle. At the far end of this murderous hallway stands the entrance to this lost dwarven city.
Gillaum walks through the open gateway and hammers on one of the closed arrow slits, “Shut up you overgrown pigeons!” he yells. The tortured screams taper off and the noise is replaced by a distant caterwauling from the other end of the corridor. He leads you out the other end of the gate corridor into a straight corridor heading east. The caterwauling builds into a cacophonous wail of wind instruments played without talent, coming from a door to the left just after you leave the gatehouse.
To your dismay you are lead into the room. A stone fountain stands in the middle of a grand plaza, its sides sculpted into the shapes of dwarves bearing drums and horns. Near the fountain, six figures in feathered attire play a shrill, discordant tune on flutes made of bone. The west edge of the room opens up onto the chasm. Gillaum looks grim faced as he waits for the current song to end. One figure has his back to you and carries a green branch in one hand while conducting the cacophony. The other five face you torturing their instruments, they all show horrible welts on any exposed skin.
As the wailing trails off to a finish, Gillaum shouts, “Windharrow, some recruits to see you!” The “conductor” turns to face you. A half elf with hawk handsome features looks at you with cold, cruel eyes – it is a face Nariah will remember always. “So you wish to serve the prophet of air? What makes you think you are worthy of such a high honour?”
