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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Helfdan" data-source="post: 907168" data-attributes="member: 11732">Part 4Part 4:  Escape into Darkness    Now that I have fully recovered, at least physically, I can continue writing of the horrors we found, and the losses we suffered, in the abandoned priory at the edge of Tabat.  These letters must seem to you as stories to frighten children (if you receive them at all), but you must know every written word is true, as your son could not do otherwise.  As always, I pray you remain well, and that our family prospers.      As you may recall we had a fearsome fight in a shrine to a crow-headed, six-armed demon named Simarul.  Though we were victorious, the mighty Solemund, priest of Barlam, had been mercilessly, and horribly, slain by a beauteous yet evil priestess. Her mere touch drained him of life such that naught but a desiccated husk remained.  Before we finally routed her, she had also cursed me to be weak as a child for the rest of my days -- and indeed, my armor felt as heavy as the first one I donned on my twelfth birthday, so long ago…      But there was little time for mourning, or regrets.  Once we determined the priestess had escaped, we collected the pulsating black opal from the altar (we left it in its glass case, as none of us were willing to risk touching such a stone) and decided to bring Solemund’s remains closer to the main doors, so that we could collect him on our way out of this vile place once we finished exploring it.   Landotharan shouldered our friend’s remains without complaint, as I was too weak to assist him, and we needed the ranger and the dwarven sorcerer to be unencumbered in case of further ambuscades.      On reaching the entrance, we were surprised to find Segnarus Mank had decided to join us!  But the small and wiry thief-catcher brought ill tidings:  The town guard had discovered the disabled sentinels around the priory, and had surrounded the building.  It was unlikely we could escape if we used the front door.  Reasoning the cultists must have had another means of egress, we decided to explore the place further.  Lando reminded us he had found another secret door prior to the melee, and we decided to explore it first.      Like the other one we had used, it was naught but a thinner section of wall cunningly balanced to rotate around a central axis.  As I opened it, a charnel house stench assailed me, and it was all I could do not to vomit.  It was a richly decorated, womanly bedroom, belonging no doubt to Solemund’s murderess.  And it was horrifying (though not the worst of what we were to see that night).  It was full of bloated flies, and the stench was almost unbearable.  The cause was immediately evident, as on a small table there was a gilded platter heaped with rotting carrion!  I tried to warn Baruk against entering, but he bravely joined me, only to be reduced to heaving violently as the nauseating stench assailed him.      We quickly searched the room.  Next to the hideous platter there was a letter, written in a very ancient language.  All I could tell was that it was signed by someone named “Naranath”.  The dwarf somehow managed to detect a magical aura within a large wooden chest, which we proceeded to drag out of the room.  Segnarus used a curious set of flat tools to open the lock, but when he opened the lid, a dart flew out and narrowly missed him!  He truly has incredible reflexes.      Inside the chest were a vial of bilious purple fluid, an arcane scroll, which Baruk declared could be used to blind or deafen an opponent, and a coin carved with a sparrow’s head.   We then continued our exploration.  Two other rooms were quite plain (and empty) – I assume they were sleeping quarters for the cowled acolytes.  The final room on this floor was a large, fancy bedroom, with naught of value except some expensive-looking tapestries.  The half-elven sworder admired them (who knew he appreciated weaving?)  but finally decided against taking one, for they were heavy, and he was already bearing Solemund.      I was beginning to tire quickly due to the weight of my armor.  Fortunately Baruk suggested that we search the main storeroom, and I took this opportunity to rest as I kept watch.  Most of what we found was food, though there were other supplies such as tar and rope.  On checking the different crates for the taint of evil, I was surprised to find that only the corn was tainted!  Could this be the way in which this insidious curse was spread?      We finally found, at the end of a long hallway on the north side of the complex, a set of stairs going down into the darkness.  Baruk led the way, his eyes as effective here as they were in the dim tunnels of his mountain home.  It ended in a smaller storeroom, which held a few barrels of wine, water, and other supplies.  There was a door right next to the stairs, and a dark hallway in the opposite wall.      We explored the hallway first, which was quite narrow and about thirty feet long.  It led to a set of iron bars at its eastern end.  There was a door in the middle of its southern wall, and a trail of day-old blood seemed to lead from that door to the bars, though Girion could find few footprints.  Beyond the bars was a large room, which as far as Baruk could tell held several coffins.  But neither dwarf nor thief-catcher could find a mechanism to open these bars.  We thus turned our attention to the door in the southern wall.  The ranger from Roedran reported he heard guttural sounds beyond it, but I could not sense the presence of evil.  Drawing Aerbrand, I opened the door.      Again I was assailed by the cloying stench of rotting flesh.  This Simarul must be kin to Nuthon itself!  I saw this small room held several heaps of putrid body parts, all half-eaten and fly-ridden.  At the end of the room was a pedestal, on which a body was splayed.  We looked at each other, no one wishing to brave this stench once more.  Girion’s senses had yet to fail us.  But “there can be no honor without valor,” right, father?  I set out towards the pedestal, fighting nausea once again.      It was a short walk, for no sooner had I entered that the charnel mound closest to the door exploded, and several slime-covered tentacles reached out to grapple me.  At their touch, I could feel poison seeping into my skin, making it difficult to move.  As I struggled to free myself, their owner crawled out.  It was a creature out of nightmare, with a greenish, segmented body almost ten feet long, borne on countless, tiny legs.  Eight slender tentacles protruded over large mandibles.  By our torchlight its hide seemed translucent, and its viscera pulsated within.      By Tilsman’s mercy I could still move, and as I fought to bring Aerbrand to bear, Girion leapt to my side.  The monster scuttled away from his sword, but I heard Baruk’s harsh laugh as he used his short bow to plant an arrow deep in its flank.  Lando shouted for us to make room, but the creature assailed us with its poisonous tentacles.  The brave dwarf tried to shoot again, but was paralyzed while reaching into his quiver.  Girion and I attacked savagely until the beast lay in pieces, and its clear, viscous blood stained our swords to the hilts.      After ensuring Baruk was alive, we turned our attention to the room.  The body on the pedestal had been sliced open, as if to harvest its viscera.  The look of agony on its face suggested he had been alive at the start of the process.  I hope he is now safe in Terferos’s keeping.  The remains seemed to have belonged to local townspeople (by the mode of dress and the frequent brands on the half-eaten faces).  Disgusted, we returned to the small storeroom, bearing both Solemund’s corpse and Baruk’s unmoving form.      Though my body ached for rest, we still needed to find a way out.  We examined the last unopened door, next to the stairs we had used to come down to this place.  Segnarus heard bestial breathing from within.  As I approached, I knew there was great evil beyond.  Steeling myself, I reached for the door, but was stopped by Landotharan.  “Please, allow me,” the half elf smiled grimly.  Gratefully, I took a position to his right, while Girion drew sword and stepped to his left.  Segnarus climbed halfway up the stairs and readied his crossbow.  Lando pushed the door open.      Again, we were confronted with monsters best left to the imagination.  There were two enormous mastiff-like hounds, each with two identical heads!  Their fur was matted and filthy, and their yellow fangs were sharp as daggers.  Foul-smelling saliva dripped from their jaws.  The first one charged through the door and bit me, driving its teeth into my sword-arm through the links of my mail.  It tried to bear me to the ground, but somehow I resisted despite my weakened state.  Girion and Lando assailed it with their swords, and it turned on the ranger, biting deeply into his forearm and knocking him off his feet.  I attacked from its right flank once more, and the ranger used this respite to gain his feet, stabbing deep into the beast’s heart as he did.  But as it collapsed, the other two-headed monster leapt into the room.  It was met by Landotharan’s sword, which wounded it deeply between its necks.  As its slavering jaws strained for the half-elf, Girion and I attacked from the sides, and put paid to the beast.      We quickly checked our wounds.  Though mine were painful, they were otherwise clean and quickly bandaged.  But Girion’s arm was starting to fester.  Never had I seen a dog’s bite become infected so quickly.  I prayed to Tilsman and Barlam, for the health of a strong and just man.  And to our wonder, his flesh regained a healthy hue, and the wound bled cleanly.  As I finished bandaging him, Baruk finally recovered from the crawler’s poison, and we proceeded to explore the brutes’ kennel.  There was a large, open cage, obviously home to the now-dead beasts.  There were two large wooden chests.  One of them was open, and held a bag of gems and a well-knit cloak, which Baruk pronounced as magical.  The other one was closed, but Segnarus quickly opened it.  It was filled with many coins, and a finely braided rope, which the dwarf also perceived as enchanted.  Lastly, there was a lever on the wall, which the thief-catcher thought could open the iron bars at the end of the hall.  We quickly stowed the coins, gems, and other items in our packs, and returned to the storeroom.  Landotharan once again shouldered Solemund’s remains as Segnarus pulled the lever and joined us.  Readying ourselves for the worst, we headed for the iron bars.  They were indeed open.  Our torchlight revealed a dozen wooden coffins around the walls –some of them open, some of them tied shut with ropes.  There were three corpses, spread-eagled and nailed onto crossed wooden beams against the north wall of the room, one of them a child.  A third cross was next to these on the floor, also holding a mutilated corpse.  Parts of their skulls were missing, and their innards hung out from horrible gashes on their bellies.  Next to the supine corpse was a table holding several bloody instruments such as those used by a surgeon – or a butcher.  Overcome by horror (and perhaps fatigue), I went down on one knee and prayed.  “Holy Tilsman,” I cried.  “Please allow me to bring those responsible for such vileness to swift justice.”  And to this day, father, I do not know if what transpired next was in answer to my prayers, or a mockery of them.  For four of the coffins flew open, and vile, undead figures emerged, similar to the ones we had faced in the Calemd forest.  I saw Lando charge one bravely with his sword raised high, though he knew it had not been effective before.  Baruk readied a vial of holy water as another of the beasts assailed him.  And then the other two descended on me, their razor-sharp claws seeking my life.  Though Aerbrand could harm them, I knew I lacked the strength to cut into their tough flesh.  Three of these monstrosities had almost killed us in the forest, and only Solemund’s faith had saved us.  Now we faced four of them, and our mightiest comrade was no longer.  Strength would not avail us.  Our only hope was faith.  My faith.  As bony claws hammered at my shield and tore at my coif, I reached for the simple wooden carving of the sword and scales of Tilsman that you gave me at my coming-of-age ceremony.  It has been the focus of my prayers since my exile, and I could part with it no sooner than I could with Aerbrand.  I raised it and ordered the creatures to flee – but there was no effect on their onslaught.   Girion leapt to my side, holding an ornate dagger he picked up from the table, and attacked one of my foes.  I heard the dwarf and half-elf fighting for their lives, as I tried to fend my foes off.  We only had one hope.  I again invoked Tilsman’s might, and again was ignored by the vile monstrosities.  Segnarus doused my two foes with a skin of oil, as Girion continued to attack with his dagger.  And then I heard Landotharan cry out in pain, as his foe sank claws into his throat.  Pain.  Death.  Dishonor.  I had no strength left to fight.  I felt weak and tired as never before.  Yielding to a superior foe on a tourney field is difficult, father, as you well know our Falconian pride.  Yielding to death’s embrace while fighting these horrors was – to my shame- easy.  Too easy.  For I had sworn an oath to bring those responsible for these atrocities to Tilsman’s justice.  I could not die here.  Flesh is weak.  But a knight’s strength comes from his heart.  “BY ALL THAT IS HOLY: BEGONE, VILE THINGS!”  And as my words echoed throughout this chamber of death, the creatures cowered, and fled back to their coffins.  Segnarus cheered, and applied a burning torch to one of our oil-soaked foes, as it leapt screaming into its casket.  I turned to see that Baruk was still standing, if sorely wounded.  But the half-elf lay unmoving, the gashes on his neck bleeding profusely.  As I fell on one knee, overwhelmed by both fatigue and awe at Tilsman’s mercy, Girion ran to Lando’s side.  After bandaging his neck, he painstakingly poured a healing draught into the sworder’s gullet.  Landotharan soon awoke, and was able to carry Solemund once more.  Segnarus had been examining the room, and he found that there were several chutes leading upward behind the coffins.  He could make out the night sky at the other side.  As somehow I knew the undead monstrosities would soon overcome their fear and attack once more, we promptly started the painstaking climb up the dark tunnels.  The thief-catcher lagged behind briefly to set fire to the tar barrels in the main storeroom, and quickly ran back to assist in our escape.  We emerged approximately fifty yards away from the priory, and for once Nelos was on our side, for it was still dark.  Smoke was pouring from the main doors, and the constables were more concerned with preventing the blaze from spreading than hunting down the culprits.  Next to our escape tunnel was a wheeled cart holding two more coffins, its two draft horses sleeping peacefully in their harness.  It seems these chutes were the acolytes’ means of smuggling corpses into their cursed lair.  We promptly unloaded the cart and climbed into it, bringing Solemund with us.  Segnarus took the reins, woke the horses, and drove them into the darkest alleyways of Tabat.  It was dawn by the time we returned to the temple of Tilsman.  The acolyte on guard duty was distraught at our appearance (and I suspect, at our stench) and quickly led us to Sen Beldazar.  The priests ministered to our wounds, and while they prayed over us we fell into exhausted slumber, one by one.  It was late afternoon by the time I awoke.  My wounds were healed, and my strength was back, praise the Judge of Judges.  I felt whole again until I recalled the events of the previous night, with its unearthly horrors, the beautiful priestess, and – worst of all- Solemund’s death.  I was surprised to find I was still clenching the wooden holy symbol in my hand.  After my prayers, I joined Girion and the Sen for breakfast (for us—supper for him) while the rest of our friends still slept.  We then adjourned to his office to discuss the previous night’s events.  We told him of the horrors of the priory, and the statue of Simarul.  He stated he never heard that name before, but several powerful demons he knew of could match this description.  He grieved when we told him of Solemund’s death, and promised to inform the priests of Barlam.  Next we showed him the letter we found in the priestess’s room, which he was able to translate quickly.  Here is a rendering as best I could copy it:Dear Mistress:It is with great pleasure that I inform you that the armies of Medore have begun their movement towards the great river.  These soldiers will soon be joined by more than half of Tabat’s garrisoned forces.  Although this is less than you and the others expected, it is all that I could safely commit without raising too many questions from the other council members.  I have also received word from master Malathorn that our efforts are proceeding according to the Great One’s design.  He warns us to be discreet about our possession of the Heart of Tolem and to be prudent with its use.  The item’s disappearance has caused the undue attention of those who seek it to befall upon us.  A confrontation with them at this point would be unwise.  I trust your dealings with Lord Saragorn in Cir are taking place without incident.  Do not hesitate to seek my aid if you so need it as I am always at your disposal.  I remain your loyal servant in the cause of our great master…  Naranath    Obviously this letter gave us much to speak of with the Sen.  First we showed him the black gem, which we now knew was the Heart of Tolem.  Beldazar was appalled at the palpable evil it exuded, and though he knows not its powers, he fears the temple’s wardings against evil will not work while the gem remains there.  He did know that this item was somehow tied to a long-dead, reputedly powerful necromancer named Tirias Tolem.  Warning us that many people would want this item for evil purposes, he encouraged us to return it to Murias as soon as possible, so that we could be rid of it.      We then told him of the evil taint on the corn… and confirmed our worst suspicions when he told us that this “Sarargorn” is a powerful merchant from Cir, who deals in foodstuffs, mainly corn!  Somehow, these demon-worshippers seem to be using the grain to spread their taint.  This led us to puzzle about the identity of this “Naranath.”  It seems he must be someone highly placed in Tabat’s ruling council – maybe Eltross himself?      At that point Sen Beldazar remembered to give us some interesting news: After we left for the priory, seneschal Lorem came to visit him.  The Sen had confirmed our story, and Lorem admitted he had noticed his master was acting strangely ever since his initial raid on the priory.  He also said he would stay in the Inn in the Hole for a day, in case we wished to speak with him, and would then leave Tabat.      Thus we are no closer to a solution for our curse.  We know a demon named Simarul, and its worshippers, are involved.  We know the taint is spread through the corn.  But to what purpose?  Who is this “Malathorn?”  And most puzzling, why are these conspirators so interested in the assault on the Kundrian forces at the fork of the Antarius?  As I cannot have your advice, I will be content in knowing I have your blessing.  Be well, father.  I hope we can meet again soon.</blockquote>

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