Visions II

Looking deep into the well water I witnessed the swirling that Kaith had described. Suddenly it seemed as if I was transported into another place.

The grimy water in the pool swirled as though directed by something unseen beneath the surface. For an instant I saw an image of a cowled figure, dressed entirely in scarlet robes. As though sensing my scrutiny the figure raised a hand and lowered the cowl, revealing a beautiful human face that, even as I watched, became a thing of mockery, losing all semblance of humanity. “You’re mine,” the once beautiful lips mouthed as the wrinkled flesh of the woman’s face became ever more corrupt. The waters swirled once more and the vision was gone.

How strange! Was this some kind of scrying device or perhaps a means to predict the future. Mayhap it was some kind of magical warning. Obviously we to continue to examine the waters was our only option

The grimy water in the pool swirled as though directed by something unseen beneath the surface. For an instant I saw an image of a mortuary, filled with corpses laid out upon cold, steel plinths. All manner of exotic implements hung from chains upon the ceiling. Some of the corpses appeared to have been experimented upon and as the scene moved closer to one of the tables, I recognised one of the figures as myself, still alive and bound to the plinth by iron manacles. The waters swirled once more and the vision was gone.

Very disturbing to say the least. It was possible that the well was cursed in some way to present the worst fears to the watcher. However, for fear of missing some vital clue we decided to look further.

The grimy water in the pool swirled as though directed by something unseen beneath the surface. For an instant I saw an image of leathery, black wings unfolding in the darkness. Droplets of yellow acid splashed at my feet as I looked up into the penetrating gaze of large reptilian eyes staring down at me. “Poor mortal fool,” the Dragon intoned. “I see your fear. You have the eye of the last hour, the unblinking moment when the realisation of your place in the scheme of matters suddenly dawns upon you. Now, you understand the truth. And you will weep.” The waters swirled once more and the vision was gone.

Perhaps some hint of a Draconic Prophesy then? Perhaps nothing? Either way we resolved to take refuge in the upper rooms of the old church and ponder these visions over a spot to eat.

We made our way up to the damaged room discussing the images we had seen as we went. Once we arrived Jhaire decided that she should keep a watch while the rest of us ate. I thought this foolish but without her paranoia she would not have spotted the wonderous blade lodged high in one of the old alcoves.

Jhaire pronounced it a weapon most suiatable to battle the forces of Dolurrh, the Realm of the Dead.

Visions

We reached the end of the corridor through an ornate archway into a chamber of worked stone 60 feet square. An identical arch, sculpted as though angelic figures were rising from the ground, stood in the centre of the wall opposite. Flickering torchlight, a pale azure that washed everything in a chill, sombre color rose from three braziers inset in the walls. Someone obviously kept these torches burning. Someone who was not undead.

A wide well with a low ringed wall of chiseled stone lay in the centre of the chamber, and the light from the torches reflected the stagnant water within up onto the ceiling overhead. Trailing ivy ran the length of the walls and the uneven floor was awash with runoff from the numerous cracks in the ceiling that dripped with an ominous echo all about us.

Cautiously we crept forward to examine the well. Kaith pointed out that all manner of monsters could lurk in such places. She was the first to look down into the waters. As she did she suddenly froze as if caught in a hypnotizing gaze. Before any of us could react she jerked back. He cries of "Spider, a huge spider" had us leaping to attack but she quickly explained that she had seen the spider in a vision seen from the waters below.

The grimy water in the pool swirled as though directed by something unseen beneath the surface. For an instant she saw an image of a huge, bloated spider rearing up on its legs. With a swiftness that belies its size, the spider lunged forward. As the spider drew back, she saw that a body lay in its jaws, and as its head tilted back, she saw that the body was hers, her eyes gazing lifelessly up at the cavernous ceiling overhead as the spider retreated into its webbed lair with its prize. The waters swirled once more and the vision was gone.

Curious, I thought to see for myself what the waters would show me.

Confidence

Moments after dispatching the skeleton the sound of more could be heard from below. Jhaire and Cajole wordlessly stepped back from the doorway to flank any of the creatures as emerged from the doorway while allowing Kaith and I clear shots with our bows. The action was so smooth and natural that I could swear that we had practiced it for years. When the next skeleton appeared it was broken apart by my crossbow bolt and Kaith's arrow before Jhaire or Cajole even moved.

Fearing more undead Jhaire then moved to the top of the stairs. She had lengthened the chain that she wore around her neck that carried a strange sort of medallion. I later learned that the intricately carved amulet was her family crest. Apparently the Aerenal use similar symbols to focus their thoughts when attempting to channel the divine energy of their ancestors. This was the first time I had taken any real notice of her "holy symbol" as I had expected all such devices to be of uniform appearance. I follow the teachings of The Traveller and His symbol is always the same. The same goes for the Dark Six, the Sovereign Host and even the Blood of Vol religion of Karnath.

Jhaire moved cautiously down the steps with the rest of us following close behind. I have keen ears, nearly as keen as an elf, and listened intently for sounds of more skeletons. Cajole's lantern provided enough light to see by for, although I had taken the appearance of an elf, I lacked the ability to see in the shadows that they had. Moments later we entered a corridor and were confronted with a pair of the animated bodies. Rather than destroy or drive them away with her powers Jhaire chose to strike them down with her longsword. Of course, we joined the fray and they were cut down in the space of a dozen heartbeats.

So far we had not received even a scratch from the undead. I think their lack of intelligence and slow reactions were allowing us to destroy them before the magic animating them could register our presence. Even Jhaire was conserving her Ancestor Faith granted powers by fighting them rather than turning them. I'm certain that we grew overconfident which is when we received the first real surprise of the night.

Undead

Having entered the church we proceeded directly along the aisle towards the altar, or rather where the alter would be. Call it instinct but for some reason I decided to hold back and remain unseen within the clutter of the broken pews and many shadowy corners. I'm sure this would be considered fortuitous by even the most jaded for, no sooner had my companions reached a stairway at the rear of the church, a loud the grinding of iron echoing with the weight of something could be heard. Some wicked creature was no doubt ascending from the depths below.

Kaith found a secure and hidden location to snipe from while Jhaire and Cajole remained standing at the doorway with weapons drawn. For a moment nothing happened and then Jhaire recoiled slightly as if exposed to a foul odour. Moments later my guess proved accurate as one of the walking dead emerged from the darkness of the stairway. It was a skeletal creature dressed in rags that were caked in mud. I guessed that it was one of the recently exhumed dead from the church graveyard and not the body of a soldier or guard. It certainly carried no weapons and wore no armour.

During the Last War I had fought several types of undead creature. Most often these were Karrnathi Zombies and Skeletons. The flesh and bones of these creatures were always treated with some kind of alchemical substance that slowed the rate of decay and toughened the flesh and bones. In addition Karrnath saw fit to equip the dead soldiers with much better quality weapons and armour than their living soldiers. They said that even the Karrnathi dead rose again to defend their nation. They called them the Risen and I hated them.

A single skeleton stood little chance against the combined blades of Cajole and Jhaire. Cajole always seems to come alive when in combat and exhibits a degree of grace in her movements that belie her armoured form. Jhaire fought the creature with a fury that I had not seen in her before. It would seem that these sombre elves are passionate in their hatred of the undead.

Exploring in the swamp

We scouted out the area surrounding the church and discovered a number of other dead bodies. I believe that they were the bodies of bandits but they could have been merchant guards. Unfortunately I fell foul of a natural trap that sprayed me with some kind of itchy spores when I was searching a body. Disgusting. Also very itchy. We also encountered a hideous aberration known as a carrion crawler. Fortunately we were able to overcome the beast before it could kill one of us with it's poisonous tentacles. I have heard legends of these monstrocities that tell of them using their poison to incapacitate foes before devouring them. This is not something I wish to experience first hand.

Having completed our scouting as best we could it seemed only prudent to begin our exploration of the sunken church itself. The church looked derelict and appeared wholly unsafe. The tower had fallen away to lie in rubble among the trees. The tiled roof was shattered in many places and had collapsed upon itself. The swampy environs had claimed the building entirely, the ground giving way so that the church had sunk partially into a bed of reeds and unstable land, the remnants of the building leaning at such an angle that it appeared it may keel over at any given moment.

In fact, the only feature of the church to have escaped the dereliction is the entrance itself, the vast, engraved stone arch housing a pair of heavy oak doors that lay ajar as though still welcoming the pilgrim or weary traveller. What were we to do but accept this invitation and enter the formerly holy environ. I feared what we would find however.

As we began to enter I noticed how dark the entrance was as the only light seemed to be from the twilight that filtered through the trees surrounding the church. Unlike the elf that I posed as I could not see well in the dark. Fortunately Cajole came to my rescue once again. Her artificial eyes had no better night vision than my own and we decided to light our lanterns.

A continuous stream of water was running off from the elevated marsh-land that had claimed the church, sluicing down the steps and disappearing between the cracks in the stoneslabbed entry-way ahead of us. The interior of the church was much as you might expect, to judge from its ruined exterior. The roof overhead was holed in many places, and shafts of light filtered through upon the fine marble pews that sat in rank either side of the central aisle. The iron stairwell that once led up to the bell-tower overhead lay twisted and broken, leading nowhere. At the far end, beyond the fallen pulpit stood another set of iron stairs that wound down, presumably, to the church crypts. All that remained of the altar was a pile of rubble.

Breakfast and a walk

The next morning we set off at a brisk walk for the old church. We left later than planned as Flimbarji staff included some very good cooks and I was enjoying my smoked cod breakfast with fried new potatoes. Apparently it is all a local speciality. They sprinkle chopped parsley and garlic leaves over the potatoes and drizzle it with hot butter. Delicious.

Forgive me but I have been travelling for four years and surviving on rabbit, berries and trail rations for most of that time so a good meal is something of a luxury for me. The last few months on Aerenal did little to quench my culinary requirements. Apparently the bland food they serve there is 'subtle'. That is apart from the food that is downright frightening. Until you've had to drink pomegranate juice mixed with beetle essence from the shell of a giant beetle you won't know the horror of a traditional elven meal. Give me potatoes any day.

Back to my tale. We set off on foot to the old church and could clearly see it through the sparse trees. I had packed an oilskin bag with some spare fish and was discussing the benefits of being able to eat with Cajole, our 'forged companion when Kaith silenced me. Ever the warrior she said that she had heard a noise. Well what was a changeling to do but join the scouting party? We decided to look around the church grounds before entering the crumbled old building itself. We didn't want to get caught by bandits or something worse with no way to escape.

What we discovered was quite horrific. At the site of the old graveyard we found many empty tombs. Coffins had be opened and the bodies stolen. We feared that some foul necromancer had visited recently. Indeed the earth was freshly turned so we knew that someone had been here within the last few days. Having fought the Karrns in the Last War I have a particular dislike of necromancy and the undead. However I was not afraid. True, they are tough to destroy but common undead lack even basic intelligence and are easily fooled.

The Inn of Five Ravens

The Inn of the Five Ravens turned out to be a delightful little establishment. It wasn't run or licenced by House Ghallanda and didn't have their distinctive herald anywhere in the building. I was initially quite nervous of staying in an unrecognised inn but it is always better than roughing it.

My apprehention was for nothing. The innkeeper Flimbarji was very gracious, even for a gnome, and had us settled in no time. He helped to carry our baggage dispite having suffered the loss of his left arm, presumably in the Last War, and he made use of an interesting prosthetic stave.

I had a very long conversation with Flimbarji, who belongs to the Treblefoot clan in northern Zilargo, and found out a little about the history of Bloodfall and the founding families.

It seems that two families formed the town about six hundred years ago but both lines have now died out. The old church holds there remains and the crypt is supposed to be divided into two: One half for the Arkaster line and the other for the Gavarist line. We decided to set off for the church at dawn but I'll be sure to look around the shops when we return.