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The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
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<blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 2981917" data-attributes="member: 2323"><p><strong>[PLAIN][Realms #351] What's For Dinner?[/PLAIN]</strong></p><p></p><p>They opted to ignore the portal for the time being and proceed as they had been - following Karak's methodical approach to dungeoneering. The next right-hand turn along the corridor was a shadowy passage that sloped downward to an enormous set of black iron doors. An almost palpable sense of dread hung about the area and, after some consideration, they again opted to press on rather than explore this new option. None of them was too eager to leave potential enemies at their backs as they continued on.</p><p></p><p></p><p>The next room was a bit further along the hallway, guarded by a door like those they had seen previously - grotesquely decorated with leering skulls, probing tentacles and rotting bodies entwined in horrible manners. It proved untrapped and opened onto a massive, vaulted chamber lit by three great chandeliers of black iron, within which burned red-veined, creamy candles that looked disturbingly like frozen flesh. In the center of the room was a long, heavy oaken table covered with white linen, upon which were settings of iron; plates, platters, chalices, rows of knives, forks and spoons, serving bowls and saltcellars. A large dome-covered platter and a huge soup tureen dominated the center of the table, surrounded by trays of glistening sweetmeats.</p><p></p><p>The chamber was filled with a not unpleasant spicy odor, but beneath it lingered a faint whiff of decay.</p><p></p><p>"Oi," Karak muttered from where they were all gathered in a cluster at the door. "Seems even the evil need to eat now and then."</p><p></p><p>Shamalin's gaze swept the room, coming to rest on the display at the center of the table. Her stomach gave in involuntary lurch. "So it would appear," she said with a grimace. "But I for one have no interest in finding out what's on the menu." She turned away from the room and stood quietly in the hallway.</p><p></p><p>"Something of the magnitude of the keys we're looking for don't seem like they would be kept in the dining room next to the silverware," Morier nodded moving the join the priestess.</p><p></p><p>"At least give me time to <em>Detect Magic</em>!" Huzair groused. "Sheesh! This feels like the shortsword thing all over again." No one took his bait and so he cast his spell and studied the room, keeping up a more or less steady stream of complaint as he did so. "You know, I think that creature kicked my ass because I did not have that short sword. And since you big strong fighters can't keep me safe, I think I need to be able to fend for myself."</p><p></p><p>Again nobody took up the other side of the argument and with a irritated snort, Huzair announced, "Some bad mojo under the serving dome. But nothing else is magical."</p><p></p><p>Karak harrumphed. "I do nae like the look o' those candles. They look like flesh," he said tramping away from the doorway with Lela riding easily on his shoulder. "I agree with Morier; I do nae think the key be here. Let us continue."</p><p></p><p>Ayremac looked into the room and scowled before turning away as well. "I agree, this room does not seem to be of great importance," he said. As they walked away he added, "Karak, do you think that was human flesh?"</p><p></p><p></p><p>As Huzair had noted on his earlier reconnaissance, the corridor soon bent around on itself, apparently forming a loop, with the chamber at the end of the hall forming the link. The door was like the others, but it was cold to the touch and slick with moisture as water condensed out of the air onto the chill black surface. The overall effect was unpleasant, making it seems that the door was oozing sweat. Still, it opened like any other door to reveal a dark chamber that seemed more than a bit like a donjon.</p><p></p><p>Fourteen small "cells" lined the walls, but they were of a sort that none of them had ever seen. For one thing they had no doors, and for another they were filled with a swirling mass of ebon mist that was somehow confined to the alcoves and did not spill into the room. It was this mist that was the source of the unnatural cold, and it caused The Orders' breath to gather into short-lived clouds as they went. The black mist was largely opaque, so it wasn't until they'd moved some way into the room that they could see the emaciated, hairless, sexless, figures suspended within. Each hovered unmoving inside its cloud, head thrown back and arms hanging limply at its sides.</p><p></p><p>Unsurprisingly, each had its eyes and all other orifices sewn shut with red thread, and mystic runes were tattooed over every visible inch of its body.</p><p></p><p>"Oh dear," Ayremac whispered nervously.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Jon Potter, post: 2981917, member: 2323"] [b][PLAIN][Realms #351] What's For Dinner?[/PLAIN][/b] They opted to ignore the portal for the time being and proceed as they had been - following Karak's methodical approach to dungeoneering. The next right-hand turn along the corridor was a shadowy passage that sloped downward to an enormous set of black iron doors. An almost palpable sense of dread hung about the area and, after some consideration, they again opted to press on rather than explore this new option. None of them was too eager to leave potential enemies at their backs as they continued on. The next room was a bit further along the hallway, guarded by a door like those they had seen previously - grotesquely decorated with leering skulls, probing tentacles and rotting bodies entwined in horrible manners. It proved untrapped and opened onto a massive, vaulted chamber lit by three great chandeliers of black iron, within which burned red-veined, creamy candles that looked disturbingly like frozen flesh. In the center of the room was a long, heavy oaken table covered with white linen, upon which were settings of iron; plates, platters, chalices, rows of knives, forks and spoons, serving bowls and saltcellars. A large dome-covered platter and a huge soup tureen dominated the center of the table, surrounded by trays of glistening sweetmeats. The chamber was filled with a not unpleasant spicy odor, but beneath it lingered a faint whiff of decay. "Oi," Karak muttered from where they were all gathered in a cluster at the door. "Seems even the evil need to eat now and then." Shamalin's gaze swept the room, coming to rest on the display at the center of the table. Her stomach gave in involuntary lurch. "So it would appear," she said with a grimace. "But I for one have no interest in finding out what's on the menu." She turned away from the room and stood quietly in the hallway. "Something of the magnitude of the keys we're looking for don't seem like they would be kept in the dining room next to the silverware," Morier nodded moving the join the priestess. "At least give me time to [i]Detect Magic[/i]!" Huzair groused. "Sheesh! This feels like the shortsword thing all over again." No one took his bait and so he cast his spell and studied the room, keeping up a more or less steady stream of complaint as he did so. "You know, I think that creature kicked my ass because I did not have that short sword. And since you big strong fighters can't keep me safe, I think I need to be able to fend for myself." Again nobody took up the other side of the argument and with a irritated snort, Huzair announced, "Some bad mojo under the serving dome. But nothing else is magical." Karak harrumphed. "I do nae like the look o' those candles. They look like flesh," he said tramping away from the doorway with Lela riding easily on his shoulder. "I agree with Morier; I do nae think the key be here. Let us continue." Ayremac looked into the room and scowled before turning away as well. "I agree, this room does not seem to be of great importance," he said. As they walked away he added, "Karak, do you think that was human flesh?" As Huzair had noted on his earlier reconnaissance, the corridor soon bent around on itself, apparently forming a loop, with the chamber at the end of the hall forming the link. The door was like the others, but it was cold to the touch and slick with moisture as water condensed out of the air onto the chill black surface. The overall effect was unpleasant, making it seems that the door was oozing sweat. Still, it opened like any other door to reveal a dark chamber that seemed more than a bit like a donjon. Fourteen small "cells" lined the walls, but they were of a sort that none of them had ever seen. For one thing they had no doors, and for another they were filled with a swirling mass of ebon mist that was somehow confined to the alcoves and did not spill into the room. It was this mist that was the source of the unnatural cold, and it caused The Orders' breath to gather into short-lived clouds as they went. The black mist was largely opaque, so it wasn't until they'd moved some way into the room that they could see the emaciated, hairless, sexless, figures suspended within. Each hovered unmoving inside its cloud, head thrown back and arms hanging limply at its sides. Unsurprisingly, each had its eyes and all other orifices sewn shut with red thread, and mystic runes were tattooed over every visible inch of its body. "Oh dear," Ayremac whispered nervously. [/QUOTE]
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