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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4007592" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 341TRIALS OF ALLEGIANCEShay leapt back, but she was struck by at least four of the long shafts.  One pierced her shoulder, striking with enough impact to fling her across the tunnel.  The head of the spear, penetrating all of the way through her body, hit the far wall with enough force to embed itself two full inches into the stone.  The scout slumped down, additional spears dangling from her left side, left hip, and right arm.  Allera started forward at once, but Talen blocked her with a raised hand.  “What are you going to do?  She’s fine, and there may be another trap waiting.”And indeed, the scout was now straightening, still pinned to the wall.  There was no blood.  Moving jerkily, she plucked the spears out one by one, finally seizing onto the one impaling her shoulder, awkwardly pulling herself down the length of the shaft, until she was able to fall forward off its length.  Straightening, she turned back to them.  “Thanks for the help,” she said dryly.  She seemed to be growing stronger with each passing second.  “Are there any more traps?” Talen asked.  While Shay searched the corridor, Varo picked up one of the spears that had ricocheted out into the room.  “Poisoned,” he said, indicating the greasy brown smear on the end of the bent steel head.  “I do not recognize the type, but it is no doubt unpleasant.”“Lucky for you that one of us was in the lead, and not one of you,” Talen said.  After a few minutes, Shay reported the passage free of additional traps, and they moved forward into the next chamber.  This one seemed smaller than it was, due to the presence of a considerable structure of stone slabs that had been erected in its center.  The building, if indeed it was that, rose up nearly thirty feet above the level of the floor.  Each of the walls they could see was covered by garishly colored paintings of Orcus, surrounded by a fell collection of minions and slaves.  Within those decorations was what looked like a door, but which on closer examination proved to be part of the painting itself; the walls themselves were free of openings or portals that they could see.  Thick pillars of smooth black stone stood at each corner, giving the structure the look of a small keep or fortress.  “This is the gateway,” Varo said. “All right, check it out,” Talen indicated.  His vampires split, Needles and Drudge going left with Shay, while Calla accompanied Utar and Hedder to the right.  Their search did not take long, as the structure was the only thing of note in the chamber.  The vampires reported that all four walls of the building were painted similarly, with a different gate featured on each.  One wall bore a barred gate, another a door of iron-bound wood, the third a portal of dark stone, and the last a formidable-looking iron door.  The common feature on all four walls was the demon god, looming over them like a gargoyle.  The eyes of the demon seemed to follow them as they walked, adding a certain creepy air to the already tense circumstance. “Damn it, it’s just a wall, there’s nothing behind all this paint,” Shay said, checking the wall nearest the entry in more detail. “What are those markings?” Allera asked, raising her torch to indicate the tortured scribbles that were painted above the depicted door.  “The writing is in the Abyssal tongue,” Varo said.  The cleric had unslung his handy haversack, and was taking a garment of folded, tattered fabric from within.  “One word on each wall.  Together they read, in the common tongue of man, ‘Abase Thee And Enter.’” “Screw that,” Dar said, at the same moment that Talen said, “I’ll not kneel before...”  The two men trailed off and shared a sharp look. “Maybe we can blast through,” Letellia said.  “The stone cannot be that thick...”“The barrier is more than mere rock,” Varo said.  He unfolded the garment, which the others now recognized as a ragged clerical vestment.  Even in its current condition they could identify the markings of the cult of Orcus across its face.  They had certainly killed enough clerics bearing such a robe to know it well. “What are you going to do with that?” Dar asked, suspicious. “I am going to open the way,” Varo said.  He put on the vestment, and knelt before the design of the iron door.  “I do not like this,” Allera said quietly, leaning up close to Dar, careful not to obstruct his access to his weapon.  Even the vampires seemed a bit uncomfortable, withdrawing from the cleric. Varo lowered his head, and began to incant.  His words were spoken in a thick, terrible language, syllables that scraped like fingernails on slate to the hearing of those present.  He spread his arms wide, the gesture extending the vestment and highlighting the sigil splayed across his chest.  “Perhaps it is not my loyalty with which you need to be concerned,” Talen said to Dar.  Varo’s words rose to a crescendo that was almost painful; Allera raised her hands to her ears.  The cleric raised his head, and they could see trails of blood running down his face, trickling from his nostrils and from the corners of his eyes.  The cleric seemed tiny, insignificant before the monstrous figure that rose high above him on the wall.  Here, in this place, even a painted image of the Demon seemed more powerful than their weak mortal shells.  But something was happening.  The painting of the iron door began to glow, rimed in an unearthly red light.  It brightened as the door opened... and then it was not just a painting, an image in pigment and ochre, but a real doorway, a portal into a space beyond. Varo pulled himself up, haltingly.  Allera came to him, reluctantly it seemed, but he waved her away with a hand.  The blood trailing down his face gave him the look of a corpse.  He reseated his helm, and stepped forward, through the door.  The others followed behind, slowly. The space within the structure seemed oddly larger than the exterior, and more than one of them shot a wary look back at the door leading outside.  The place was lit by a diffuse ruddy light that seemed to emanate from the very walls.  The chamber was occupied by only one feature, a huge stone sarcophagus set upon a step in the center of the place.  Varo was already there, heaving at the lid.  The thing had to weigh hundreds if not thousands of pounds, and Talen and Dar started forward to assist, but then the cleric let out a fierce noise, and the slab slid aside, thumping hard on the floor as it gave way.  Wary of a guardian, the fighters edged forward, hands on weapon hilts.  But the inside of the tomb was empty, save for a narrow staircase that descended into shadow.  Dar looked a question at Varo, already knowing the answer.  “We go down,” the cleric said, his voice hollow within the confines of his helmet.  They proceeded in single file down the stairs, the sounds of their feet strangely muted.  They descended for sixty-six steps, before the shaft opened onto another large chamber. This one was different than the last.  The walls, floors, and ceiling alike were fashioned of seamless white stone.  The place was spacious, perhaps sixty feet wide and forty feet across.  A pair of large doors were set in the opposite wall, flanked by two thick pillars that ascended to the ceiling twenty-five feet above.  The doors were carved with the now-familiar scenes of demons, interrupted by runes of silvery mithral that seemed to glow with a soft inner light of their own.  The pillars, too, bore carvings, forms of skeletal demons bearing greatswords that lifted almost to the ceiling.  Some debris was scattered around the perimeter of the place, mostly bones and piles of rusted metal, but otherwise it was clean, as though even dust was reluctant to intrude here. “There is so much... too much...” Letellia said, lifting her hands to her head. “What is it?” Dar asked.  Alderis, too, looked to be in discomfort, his eyes shooting back and forth as though seeing dangers lurking on the edges of their perception. “Magic... evil... chaos... so strong, everywhere!” the sorceress said.  Allera rushed over to her, but she held up a hand, swallowing as she took several deep breaths.  “It’s... I’m all right.  There are times when arcane sight can be more a hindrance than a boon,” she explained.  “I suspect that many of our powers may be restricted in this place,” Varo said.  “It is shielded, even stronger than the level above.”Talen and Shay had walked out into the center of the room, flanked by their entourage, who seemed to huddle in their wake.  “What do those words say?” Talen asked, indicating the mithral runes set into the doors.“Beware the crossing, for those who disturb the Master’s rest, gain only eternal torment,” Varo said.  He barely looked up, and the words seemed like they were dragged from within him against his will.  The black plate of his armor seemed especially incongruous in the pale surroundings of the chamber.  With all of them clad in muted garments, their hands and faces stained with sweat and dirt, it was almost as though all color and life was leeched away in this strange and alien place.  When Varo stepped forward, he left a spot of blood on the floor that drew the eye. Talen muttered something to himself, and started forward toward the doors.  He made barely three steps before a ghostly figure materialized directly in front of him.  The vampire knight fell back into a ready stance, his sword hissing from its scabbard, but the spectral form did not immediately attack.  Instead its outline wavered and then took on more substantial definition.  It remained incorporeal, its undead nature instantly obvious, but they could now recognize the identity that the ghost had possessed in life. It was Nelan.</blockquote>

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