“In the Abyss, kindness is unnatural, mercy impossible and power all that matters.”
Rule-of-Three
Third Lady's Day of Mortis, 126 HR
Garush's warning that someone was approaching them from both the front and the rear caused everyone to freeze.
“Not good,” muttered Naghûl, unsure whether to look ahead or behind him.
The amazon stood there, motionless, tense to the extreme, and seemed to be listening – whether to a real sound or her supernatural sense of danger remained unclear to the tiefling.
“Her gift often awakens when danger threatens,” Dilae explained in a hushed voice. “Greater danger, you know?”
“How great?” asked Sgillin, already taking an arrow from his quiver.
“Tanar'ri,” muttered Garush. “A whole group. Still a good distance ahead, but they're drawing nearer.”
Lereia stepped beside them, her nose twitching as she sniffed. After a moment, she nodded in confirmation. “Yes ... the stench of sulfur and rotten flesh. Definitely tanar'ri.”
Before Naghûl could really think of how to deal with this new threat, they heard hurried footsteps behind them. Everyone spun around, weapons drawn, ready to attack. But it was Yelmalis, Tarik and Sekhemkare who rounded the corner, harried and out of breath.
“The third group,” Yelmalis explained, gasping, as he reached them. “They are coming. We already heard them upstairs. They'll be here soon.” The genasi was surrounded by a whirlwind that spun rapidly around him - probably the spell Garush had mentioned, which allowed him to accelerate his movements.
Tarik nodded. “We have to hurry. Or hide.”
Seeing the serious expressions on the others' faces, Sekhemkare's tongue darted out nervously. “What's going on? You look like you've already found trouble.”
Garush pointed down the corridor. “Tanar'ri. Ahead of us. We're trapped.”
Naghûl cursed softly in Abyssal. There they stood, trapped between two threats, unable to escape either. For a while, they all remained silent, each trying to think of a way out of their precarious situation. Their glances darted back and forth between the two directions from which danger threatened.
“We have to fight,” Garush growled. “What other choice do we have? Let's keep going and face the tanar'ri. If we defeat them and find a solid door, we can block it and the other group won't be able to follow us.”
“A direct confrontation with the demons?” Naghûl shook his head skeptically. “Very risky. We don't know how many they are or how powerful.”
Yelmalis looked at Dilae. “Maybe you could try using an illusion to mislead one of the two groups. Or even both.”
“But powerful tanar’ri could see through that,” the dark elf pointed out.
“What if we split up?” Sgillin suggested. “That way we could draw the two groups apart and perhaps fight them more effectively.”
“Better not,” Jana replied. “I think our unity is our greatest strength. We should stick together.”
Kiyoshi nodded in agreement.
“I have an idea,” Lereia interrupted the discussion with a low growl. “Why don't we hide in one of these side rooms? If we're lucky, the two groups will meet and fight each other.”
Naghûl nodded. Of course, that was an excellent idea, if it worked. And if it didn't, at least they would have a door as a bottleneck, which would be easier to defend than the much wider corridor. “That could work,” he replied. “We'll let them keep each other busy while we lie low.”
“Good,” Garush said grimly. “Let's try it.”
Yelmalis glanced at the surrounding cells. “Maybe there,” he suggested, pointing to a door on their right. “That room has enough space for all of us and a good view of the main corridor.”
The genasi ended his wind spell and without further discussion, they scurried through the door he had pointed to. It appeared to be a former storeroom with empty, dust-covered shelves. They positioned themselves so that they could observe the corridor through the narrow door crack. Garush and Sgillin stood in front, their eyes alertly fixed on the tunnel. The others huddled behind them, breathing shallowly so as not to make any unnecessary noise. The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as they waited. The only sound was their suppressed breathing and, in the distance, the occasional scratching of claws on stone.
Then finally they heard it: from one side, the heavy stomping and soft hissing of the tanar'ri, from the other, muffled voices and the clanging of weapons as the two groups approached each other. Through the narrow crack, they saw the demons first, and Naghûl's heart sank when he glanced over Sgillin's shoulder and recognized an imposing marilith, wielding swords in four of her six arms. A fight against such a powerful demon could end badly, and he sent a quick prayer to Sharess that Lereia's plan would work. Following the marilith were two vrocks, a cambion, a kelvezu and a few drooling dretches.
Seconds later, the other group appeared at the opposite end of the corridor. Naghûl suppressed a cry of surprise when he recognized two familiar faces: the Shadowknave and the githzerai wizard Imogen. The half-elf was dressed in dark robes, just as he had been during the fight at the Ditch, and had several throwing knives tucked into a shoulder strap. The githzerai had her familiar, the white cobra, with her, hissing and coiling around her left arm. Ahead of them were a tall, muscular human in heavy armor, a tiefling with two short swords and a red-haired dwarf woman with an axe and a shield. Behind the Shadowknave and Imogen, Naghûl spotted another half-elf armed with a bow, a gnome with a crossbow and a woman in a dark robe, probably a wizard or sorceress.
From their hiding place, the Chosen watched with bated breath as the two groups faced each other. The tension in the corridor was almost palpable – and then all hell broke loose. The deafening screech of the vrocks echoed through the catacombs, followed by the clang of steel on steel. The marilith lunged at the tall, armored warrior of the Illuminated with her four swords, while the kelvezu went after the tiefling. Naghûl couldn't see much more from his position, but he heard the hiss of magic missiles and the voice of the githzerai.
Garush pressed her eye against the door crack, her muscles tense as if she had to force herself not to intervene in the fight. “The Illuminated are fighting well,” she muttered. “But the demons are too strong.”
Lightning flashed through the corridor, accompanied by Imogen's incantations. The Shadowknave was little more than a blur, darting between the combatants, landing precise stabs here and there. Naghûl flinched when the gnome was grabbed by a vrock and thrown against the wall. The crack of bones could be heard even in their hiding place.
“They're being overrun,” Jana whispered, her voice trembling with suppressed tension.
The noise of battle swelled and subsided, a chaotic jumble of screams of pain, demonic roars and the sound of splintering stone as the dwarf's axe missed its target and struck the walls.
Suddenly, they heard Imogen's voice above the clangor: “Retreat! We have to get back!”
The Illuminated began to withdraw slowly. The dwarf and the tiefling covered their retreat, but it was clear that they were badly hurt. The tanar'ri, led by the marilith, pressed forward. When the survivors disappeared from view, all that remained were the bodies of the fallen, the echoes of battle and the acrid smell of sulfur and blood.
Lereia, who had glanced past Garush into the corridor, nodded with relief. “They're gone,” she whispered. “Both groups.”
The silence that followed was almost as oppressive as the noise of battle before. Naghûl nodded to Lereia, grateful for her idea, which had saved them from the carnage.
“Good call, tigress,” Garush agreed. “We should keep going. The 'ri will be back soon, we have to find that sword.”
They hurriedly left their hiding place, their tension slowly easing. Outside lay two dretches and a vrock, but also the tall warrior, the gnome, the half-elf archer and the sorceress in the black robe, all in a pool of their own blood. However, they did not bother to search the bodies. Instead, Garush took the lead again, her senses sharpened for any sign of further danger. They hurried down the long corridor, past three more cells. A quick glance revealed scenes of decay and neglect, but no one dared to linger longer than necessary. Finally, they reached a room that made Garush utter an orcish curse. Before them was a seemingly bottomless hole that stretched from wall to wall. The darkness below seemed to swallow all light. A single narrow wooden bridge spanned the chasm, old and weathered, but apparently the only way forward.
Naghûl stepped cautiously to the chasm, glanced down into the depths, and then pushed a stone over the edge with his foot. “I didn't hear it hit the bottom,” he muttered after a moment. “We should be damn careful.”
“I'm changing back,” Lereia said. “These planks might not be able to bear me as a tiger.”
She disappeared into the passageway from which they had come and returned shortly thereafter in human form. While walking, she closed the backpack from which she had apparently taken her clothes. One by one, they stepped onto the bridge, always keeping a considerable distance from the person in front of them so as not to put too much weight on the planks. The wood creaked ominously under their feet, and the abysm on both sides seemed to pull them towards it with invisible fingers. Suddenly, when Garush had reached the middle of the bridge, there was a sharp click. Wooden bars shot up from hidden slits in the planks. It was so dark that they had not been visible hanging underneath the bridge. Garush found herself trapped in a cage-like structure.
“By all the gods!” Sgillin gasped as another grille shot up immediately afterwards and trapped him as well.
In quick succession, Lereia, Kiyoshi, Jana and Dilae were also confined by the suddenly appearing bars. Yelmalis, Tarik and Sekhemkare, who were still at the beginning of the bridge, and Naghûl, who had almost made it to the other end, were spared. The captives rattled at their cages, but the grilles did not give way. The situation was precarious: six of them were immobilized, trapped on a rickety bridge over a bottomless chasm.
While the Sensate took a closer look at the bars and searched for a solution for their trapped companions, Yelmalis suddenly pointed to the distant walls of the room. “Look out!” he shouted. “Beholder statues!”
Naghûl followed his gaze and sure enough, in large niches in the walls stood two stone effigies of the multi-eyed aberrations.
No sooner had Yelmalis uttered the warning than the stone eyes of the grotesque statues began to glow. Magical energies gathered in their pupils.
“Get down!” Naghûl shouted just as the first beam of magic hissed across the bridge.
It narrowly missed Garush's cage, charring the wood where it struck. The free members of the group ducked as best they could, while the prisoners looked on helplessly as more beams shot towards them.
“We have to destroy the grilles!” Sgillin shouted through the chaos. He began kicking the wooden bars of his cage with all his strength.
Yelmalis reacted quickly and hurled a bolt of lightning at one of the statues, while Tarik tried to influence the other with his psionic powers. However, neither seemed to cause much damage. Sekhemkare rushed to Lereia's cage and began striking the bars with his staff. Meanwhile, the other statue released several magic missiles that hit Garush and Kiyoshi, but fortunately did not seriously injure them. Amidst the hail of magic and flying wood splinters, the prisoners managed to free themselves relatively quickly, as the bars had become rotten with age. Garush smashed hers with sheer muscle power, while Kiyoshi used his newly acquired dragon powers to burn the grilles of his cage with a fiery breath. After Lereia and Sekhemkare had broken the bars of the young woman's cage together, they rushed to Dilae and Jana to free them as well. Meanwhile, the bars confining Sgillin had given way under the half-elf's kicks and a spell cast by Naghûl. The bridge groaned and swayed menacingly under the strain of the battle.
“Quick, to the other side!” urged Naghûl, who was already standing at the other end of the chasm, reaching out his hand to his companions.
In a daring sprint, dodging the continued spells of the beholder statues, the Chosen on the bridge managed to reach the other side of the abysm. Dilae jumped off the creaking planks just in time before a ray of fire hit them in the middle and split them in two. But Yelmalis was still on the bridge ... Naghûl felt his heart sink and heard Jana scream in fright.
But when the wizard felt the boards beneath him give way, he quickly made a gesture with his left hand - and floated. As the charred remains of the wood plummeted into the depths, Yelmalis moved the last few paces through the air as lightly as a feather. Naghûl breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, all air genasi could levitate thanks to their elemental heritage, even those who were not versed in magic. That was why the wizard had deliberately crossed the bridge last. Floating, Yelmalis safely reached the edge of the chasm and landed silently on the rocky ground. Panting and exhausted, but relieved, the Chosen gathered at the other end of the room. The beholder statues continued to fire, but could no longer reach them.
“That was close,” Lereia panted as she shook wood splinters from her clothes.
Garush nodded grimly. “Too close. We must proceed with caution. Who knows what else awaits us down here.”
After one last look at the now useless bridge and the still active statues, the group advanced into the next corridor. This time, however, they did not have to go far before the tunnel ended. They stood before an imposing door that filled the entire passageway, made of heavy, dark metal, its surface covered with intricate engravings and demonic symbols. Embedded in the center of the door was a circular emblem depicting a stylized eye.
After Sgillin had made sure there were no traps, Naghûl stepped forward and examined the door more closely. His fingers traced the engraved lines as he muttered quietly to himself. Then he paused. “Here,” he said, pointing to an inscription below the eye emblem. “It says: Only through a sacrifice the way will open.”
Yelmalis stepped beside him. “This must be the last door the book spoke of,” he said. “The one that has to be paid for with blood.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Naghûl remembered the cryptic message: To pass through the last door, pay with blood. The Tomb of Hope below can be entered by two times five.
The air genasi cleared his throat. “It seems we must all make some kind of blood sacrifice to open the door.” He sounded almost apologetic, as if he himself had decided how the door was to be opened.
Dilae nodded seriously. “And ten can pass through. That's exactly our number.”
Without further ado, Sgillin drew a dagger from his belt. “Very well, let's do it.” Seeing the skeptical looks on the others' faces, the half-elf shrugged. “What? I don't find it uplifting either, but I didn't come up with it. And we have to keep going, don't we?”
Kiyoshi leaned his naginata against the wall. “You're right, Sgillin-san. The only other option would be to turn back.”
“Out of the question,” Garush growled. “All right, let's do it.”
Sgillin stepped closer to the door, dagger clutched tightly. With a quick, precise movement, he cut into his forearm, deep enough to draw blood but not so deep as to impair his ability to fight. He held his arm over the eye emblem and let several drops of his blood fall onto it. The metal seemed to suck it up greedily, and the eye began to glow faintly. Garush was the next to offer up the sacrifice, her face a mask of stoic determination. When her blood touched the emblem, the glow pulsed a little stronger - it seemed to be working. One by one, the Chosen stepped forward. Naghûl had the impression that Yelmalis' blood shimmered in a hue of blue, surely a sign of his elemental ancestry. Kiyoshi's blood, on the other hand, smoked slightly when it touched the metal - an indication of his dragon lineage. Dilae murmured a quiet prayer to Eilistraee as she sacrificed her blood, as if to apologize to her goddess. Jana's hand trembled slightly, but her gaze remained steady. Tarik, Lereia and Naghûl followed her. Sekhemkare was the last. His forked tongue darted out as he let his blood drip onto the eye.
With each drop of blood, the glow of the emblem intensified until it finally radiated a deep, pulsing red. The air around them seemed to charge with energy, and a low hum filled the corridor. When the last blood sacrifice was offered, a slight tremor shook the ground. The eye in the center of the emblem seemed to stare at them for a moment, as if testing their worthiness. Then, with a deep, echoing sound that vibrated in their bones, the door began to open. The Chosen stood there, their forearms still bleeding, but their eyes fixed on the opening passageway. Naghûl knew that with this ritual, they had crossed a point of no return. Whatever awaited them behind that door, they would face it together, bound by the blood they had sacrificed. One by one, they crossed the threshold, each with a mixture of determination and trepidation. When Jana was the last to step through, the door closed behind her with a dull thud. They now stood in semi-darkness, illuminated only by Dilae's magical moonlight orb. The sword Hope might be waiting for them - but perhaps also even greater dangers than those already behind them.
Garush, her axe clenched tightly in her hand, was the first to go further into the room. “Stay alert,” she warned. “Who knows what awaits us here.”
The Chosen cautiously ventured into the circular room, whose walls were made of smooth black stone. In the center they spotted a low altar of dark marble, on which lay a single golden key. Around the altar, arranged in a perfect circle, stood eight quasit statues, their stone eyes seemingly fixed on the treasure they guarded.
Naghûl stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “Be careful,” he warned. “I sense strong arcane energies.”
No sooner had he spoken than the eyes of the statues began to glow. With a crashing sound, the stone shattered, and eight living quasits leaped out, their claws and teeth flashing.
“Not again,” Garush growled, raising her axe.
The quasits were fast and agile, their sharp claws a serious threat. While Garush and Kiyoshi stood at the front, Yelmalis hurled small bolts of lightning, Sgillin shot his arrows and Tarik used his psionic powers to confuse the demons. Naghûl, Jana and Sekhemkare held back so as not to spend too many spells, and Dilae just provided light to the fighters, saving her prayers for healing after the battle. Lereia seemed to be hesitating about whether to change to tiger form and contented herself with watching the fight for the time being. When all the quasits were lying on the ground, the Chosen turned their attention back to the altar.
Sgillin approached cautiously, but stopped two steps away from the stone table. “There's a pressure plate trap that runs in a circle around the entire altar,” he explained. “It looks complicated, but ... I might be able to ...”
He nocked an arrow and took accurate aim. With a precise shot, he catapulted the key off the altar. Naghûl was about to congratulate the half-elf on his idea, but as the key touched the tiles, the floor quaked. A deafening roar rang out, and a huge Abyssal wyvern appeared in the middle of the chamber. From the arcane signature, Naghûl could sense that it had been teleported into the room by a protective spell cast on the altar. Its scaly skin glistened like polished obsidian, and corrosive slime dripped from its mouth. Iron rings could be seen on its claws, with remnants of rusted chains still hanging from them. Naghûl remembered the huge cage cell they had seen. Had it been the wyvern's? If so, it had escaped – only to be summoned here as an unwilling guardian. Its mood was obviously bad ...
“By the Dark Maiden,” Dilae gasped as she cast a healing spell on Kiyoshi, who had been wounded by a quasit.
The wyvern lashed out with its tail and smashed one of the pillars, sending chunks of stone raining down. At that moment, Garush's gift apparently activated. Her muscles tensed, her eyes glowed with supernatural intensity. So fast that she was barely perceptible to the eye, she rushed towards the wyvern. Her axe struck the monster's scales with the force of a hammer blow, and the wyvern roared in pain.
“Support Garush!” Naghûl shouted as he prepared one of his most powerful spells.
Kiyoshi, still unarmored, used his dragon powers again and breathed a ray of fire at the beast, just as one of Sgillin's arrows flew towards it. Lereia quickly slipped out of her clothes to change into her tiger form. The wyvern rose to its full height, its roar shaking the walls and its eyes glowing with red fire. Garush moved with supernatural speed, her axe a blur of deadly steel. Each of her blows left deep gouges in the monster's scales. Naghûl stood a short distance away, his hands moving in complex patterns as he prepared his spell, blue flashes of energy dancing between his fingers.
Sgillin nimbly climbed one of the remaining pillars. From his elevated position, he shot arrow after arrow at the wyvern's most vulnerable spots - its eyes, its throat and the joints of its massive limbs. Then Lereia, back in her tiger form, leaped at the beast's flank and dug her claws deep into its flesh. The wyvern hurled her against a wall, but she immediately got back up, ready for the next attack. While Yelmalis unleashed a crackling bolt of lightning at the wyvern, Tarik apparently tried to use his psionic powers to influence the monster's mind and distract it. He seemed to be showing the beast illusions of other fighters, because it lunged at phantoms while the real attackers seized their chance. Dilae stood a few steps apart, healing wounds when necessary, while Sekhemkare sent a fire bolt at the wyvern and Jana a ray of frost.
The monster fought with wild desperation. Its tail swept across the ground, hurling debris through the air. Its breath, a cloud of acrid fumes, filled the room and made it difficult to breathe. Garush finally leaped onto the beast's back. With all her supernatural strength, she brought her axe down on the wyvern's neck. At that moment, Naghûl unleashed his spell. A hail of magic missiles, considerably stronger than his normal ones, struck the wyvern, directly in the gaping wound the amazon had inflicted. With a deafening roar, the beast reared up. Garush seized the moment, lunged out one last time and drove her axe deep into the monster's skull. The Abyssal wyvern collapsed, and its fall shook the entire room. Dust and debris swirled as its massive body hit the ground. Panting and exhausted, the Chosen stood around the fallen beast, still unable to believe that they had won this battle. Sgillin carefully picked up the golden key, which still lay on the floor amidst the chaos caused by the battle.
“That,” Jana said, pale as death, “was definitely too close.”
Naghûl nodded wordlessly. He felt that he had no energy left to cast even a single spell. A quick glance at Jana, Yelmalis and Sekhemkare told him that they felt the same way. Even Dilae did not look as if she could heal any more wounds. But what caught the Sensate's eye most was Garush's condition. The amazon tucked her axe back to her weapons belt with a trembling hand and held on to the stone altar, breathing heavily. Yes, using her gift probably exhausted her, as was often the case with the other Chosen too. And she had already used her gift several times that day ... But Kiyoshi, Lereia, Tarik and Sgillin also looked exhausted.
“We need a rest,” the tiefling explained. “Otherwise, we won't survive another fight.”
“I second the honorable Naghûl-san's suggestion,” Kiyoshi replied calmly, but with a clear hint of exhaustion.
Jana nodded. “Yes, me too.”
As the others also signaled their agreement, Naghûl took a small object from one of his belt pouches. It resembled a flat, irregularly shaped piece of silver with an inlaid rune made of blue crystal. It was the focus for an Astral Shelter. He could have cast the spell without it, but he had used up his last arcane powers in the fight against the wyvern. That was why his factol, Erin, had given him this focus for emergencies, and in Naghûl's eyes, this was definitely an emergency. The focus also had the advantage of triggering immediately, whereas the spell took an hour to prepare. Time they might not have before the tanar'ri discovered them. So Naghûl held up the focus and spoke the names of all the group members to grant them access to the Astral Shelter. When he finished, an oval portal opened before them, and they hurried through it to reach the protective pocket plane.
After all the blood, dirt and fighting, it seemed unreal and like a dream to suddenly find themselves in a bright forest, flooded with soft, silvery light. The others looked around in amazement, and Naghûl smiled. He had not known what form the shelter stored in the focus would take, but this clearing was definitely a welcome sight. The tall trees had iridescent bark that shimmered in various shades of silver and mother-of-pearl. The leaves on their branches were a delicate, almost translucent green that glistened gently with every slight movement. The ground was covered with soft moss, and in the middle of the clearing was a crystal-clear pond. The still water lay there like a perfect mirror, reflecting the silver sky and the surrounding trees. Delicate white flowers grew on the shore, their calyxes exuding a sweet fragrance. Scattered around the pond were blankets and soft cushions for resting, and a large round table made of polished quartz stood a little apart, surrounded by enough chairs for the entire group. Plates of fresh fruit, loaves of sweet-smelling bread and jugs with clear spring water had appeared on the table by magic. The air in this astral refuge was pleasantly warm and filled with a peaceful silence, interrupted only by the gentle splashing of a small stream flowing into the pond. A light breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees, carrying the scent of flowers and fresh grass. At the edge of the clearing, they even discovered small, cozy huts made of light wood, perfect for an undisturbed sleep. The entire environment radiated peace and safety, a stark contrast to the dangers and darkness of the catacombs they had just left. Here, the Chosen could finally catch their breath, tend to their wounds and gather new strength.
Dilae looked around with a smile as they entered the clearing; Naghûl could see her relax at the sight of the trees and the small pond. “It's really beautiful here.”
“I agree,” said Kiyoshi, glancing appreciatively at Naghûl. “Impressive.”
Garush, on the other hand, looked around somewhat skeptically. “And no one can follow us here, right?”
“At least no one who's been chasing us in Broken Reach,” explained Naghûl as he knelt down at the edge of the pond to wash his face.
Yelmalis examined the trees with interest, almost inquiringly. “This works just like an astral ...”
The amazon immediately raised a hand. “Please don't, Yel. A simple yes or no will suffice. No offense.”
“I know.” The genasi smiled. “Scientific explanations aren't your thing.”
“I'd love to hear it,” Jana remarked with a smile as she settled down on one of the soft cushions.
Yelmalis looked at the sorceress, perhaps a little surprised by her interest in more academic arcane questions, but he nodded kindly. “Then I suggest we sit down together when this is over and exchange views.” He also took a seat on one of the blankets at the edge of the pond.
Sgillin laid his bow in the grass and washed the blood off his fingers in the water. “Nice work, Naghûl.”
“In this case, the credit goes to the spell focus and thus to Factol Erin,” the tiefling replied with a smile. “Get some rest, we're safe here.”
“Can we afford to do that?” Tarik asked with a sigh. “Even if the Illuminated have been driven away, there are still the tanar'ri. What if they find the sword before we do?”
“The sword has probably been lying there for a long time without the demons taking it,” replied Naghûl. “The real danger was the Illuminated, and they won't be back anytime soon after the losses they suffered. But if we don't rest and regain our strength, if we run out of spells and prayers, the next battle could be our last.”
“That's unfortunately true,” Garush grumbled. “We have to rest, whether we like it or not.”
Sekhemkare had leaned his staff against one of the rocks by the pond, but did not sit down yet. “I wonder,” he mused, “what the Illuminated were doing in Broken Reach in the first place. How do they know about the sword?”
Lereia sighed. “That's a good question.” She went behind one of the rocks to change back into her human form, then sat down at the edge of the small pond. She stayed a little apart from the others and just stared into the water.
Dilae looked over at her with concern and glanced questioningly at Naghûl, but the tiefling gestured that everything was fine. He knew Lereia better by now and her behavior did not surprise him. For one thing, she certainly needed to process the things she had seen in the Abyss. On the other hand, tigers were solitary animals, and being in a group for days on end might be exhausting for Lereia. So the Sensate sat down at the round quartz table and took some of the food. Sgillin, Jana and Garush did the same, while the others lingered by the pond to rest before eating. Dilae said a final prayer of healing for Garush and Sgillin, then went to some trees standing apart and prayed to Eilistraee for guidance and protection. Garush cleaned and sharpened her axe, while Sgillin fitted some of the arrows he had collected after the fight with new feathers. Yelmalis, Tarik and Sekhemkare spoke quietly about what they had experienced in the catacombs. Kiyoshi, however, sat down on the bank of the pond after eating and remained very still, with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. He seemed to be meditating, probably to keep the newly strengthened dragon blood in his veins under control. He certainly did not want to allow himself another lapse like the one in the room with the golem.
A little later, Garush and Dilae chose one of the small huts on the edge of the clearing for their rest, while Naghûl and Sgillin shared another. Jana chose her own hut, as did Sekhemkare and Kiyoshi, while Yelmalis and Tarik also shared one of the small houses. Only Lereia remained outdoors, sleeping on one of the blankets by the pond under the canopy of silvery trees. Both, the tigress and the Eldath follower, obviously wanted to stay connected to nature for as long as possible. Although the Astral Shelter was well protected against intruders, Garush could not be convinced that resting without guards was safe. So they took turns, and several hours of deep sleep passed, thankfully undisturbed.
When Naghûl and Sgillin stepped out of the hut, they could still hear snoring coming from the small house next to them – Kiyoshi. This had not disturbed the Sensate's rest, but it had probably woken the half-elf with his more sensitive ears several times.
He now knocked vigorously on the door to wake the still slumbering soldier. “A kingdom for a silence spell,” he muttered.
Dilae also stepped out of her hut. “A good and true word ...”
Then she went to the pond to wash, where Lereia had just awakened and was scooping some water to drink. On the other side of the pond, Sgillin knelt on the ground and submerged his head completely under water to wake himself up.
Yelmalis was already sitting at the table, eating bread and fruit. When Garush, clearly not in high spirits, stepped out of the hut behind Dilae, he turned his head towards her. “How are you?”
“Fine,” the amazon replied curtly, almost harshly.
Yelmalis sighed. “I just wanted to be nice, you know. Polite.”
“I know.” Garush rubbed her forehead. “It's just ... it annoys me that using my gift takes such a toll on my body. I'm sorry.”
“I'm sure you'll get used to it,” said Sekhemkare, who had been on watch last and was sitting at the table together with Yelmalis.
“I certainly hope so,” grumbled the half-orc, taking a large piece of ham from the table.
While Jana, Kiyoshi and Tarik were the last to emerge from the huts, the others sat down at the table and ate some more of the meal that had appeared there. Naghûl felt more relaxed, in a much better mood, and more confident than before the rest. He nodded to himself. Going to the Astral Shelter had been the right decision. Now they could face the dangers that surely awaited them refreshed and rested. When everyone was finished, Sgillin took a small sip of schnapps and then picked up his bow. Lereia transformed back into her tiger form while Naghûl, Jana, Yelmalis, Sekhemkare and Dilae cast some protective spells and prayers. Then the tiefling spoke the magic word that activated the Astral Shelter's exit, and immediately the oval portal opened right next to the pond. Behind it was the gloomy room in the catacombs of Broken Reach where they had fought the wyvern a few hours earlier.
Dilae sighed with one last look at the trees. “I'd love to stay here.”
Naghûl understood this feeling well, and a glance around revealed that the others shared it too. But they had no choice; they had to keep going, find the sword Hope, and then get back to Sigil as quickly and alive as possible. As they stepped through the portal, the peaceful forest clearing around them faded like a passing dream. The silver trees dissolved into shimmering sparks, the clear pond disintegrated into glittering drops that hovered briefly in the air before they too disappeared. For a brief moment, the Chosen found themselves in a space of pure, silvery emptiness before the gloom of the catacombs enveloped them once more. Then they stood again in the devastated room where they had defeated the wyvern and the quasits. The sweet scent of astral flowers gave way to the heavy smell of dust and blood. The corpses of their enemies still lay where they had fallen, silent witnesses to the bitter battle. They looked around warily, but there was no one to be seen except the dead bodies. Sgillin cautiously approached the other door in the room, hoping that the golden key that had been lying on the altar would unlock it. Holding his breath, the half-elf inserted it into the lock. Sure enough, there was a soft click and the door opened.
“Ready?” he asked over his shoulder.
When the others nodded grimly, he pushed against the door, which slowly swung open, revealing a large hall. The room was significantly larger than all the previous ones, its ceiling lost in the darkness. Red crystals in the walls provided a dim light. The first thing that caught their attention were the two large pentagrams embedded in the floor. They consisted of a mosaic of various gemstones, which Naghûl identified as obsidian, red jasper and onyx. The lines of the pentagrams seemed to pulsate in the glow of Dilae's moonlight orb, as if animated by an inner force. The tiefling sensed an arcane energy emanating from them and signaled to the others to circle around the mosaics and not step on them. In the center of the room stood a wide stone platform with a series of steps leading up to it. At the top rested a massive sarcophagus made of dark stone, its surface covered with intricate carvings that they could not yet make out from below.
“This must be it,” Naghûl murmured. “The Tomb of Hope.”
The group entered hesitantly, their footsteps echoing softly in the vast hall. The air was heavy and stifling, filled with the smell of incense and something metallic, reminiscent of blood. It was quiet here, very quiet, silent as a grave ... which, considering the pedestal, it probably was. Sanguine smoke rose from large stone urns around the sarcophagus, and there was something hanging over the room ... a feeling that something ancient and powerful lay here in deep slumber.
“We're in the right place,” Kiyoshi whispered. “I'm sure of it.”
Lereia sniffed suspiciously. “I don't like this place. It smells of death ... and something else. Something unnatural.”
Yelmalis nodded in agreement. “The magical energies here are intense. We should be extremely careful.”
They slowly approached the platform, taking care not to step on the pentagrams embedded in the floor. The red crystals in the walls seemed to pulsate slightly.
“I have ... we have seen this room before, in one of my visions,” Jana whispered uneasily.
Dilae nodded seriously. “So have we – in a dream Tarik had.”
When they stood at the foot of the platform Naghûl took a closer look at the statues surrounding it – and he caught his breath. They were life-size statues of women in flowing robes, their faces hidden in their hands as if they were crying. The craftsmanship of the images was remarkable - even in the semi-darkness, Naghûl could see the fine details of the folded hands and the hint of tears. “Yelmalis,” he whispered. “Do you notice anything about the statues?”
The wizard also shuddered at the sight. “By the powers ...”
“What's wrong with the statues?” Lereia asked, alarmed.
Naghûl couldn't tear his gaze away from them. “They look exactly like the ones at the Hall of Pain in Sigil.”
All the others who had lived in the City of Doors for some time nodded uneasily. The Hall of Pain, the place where the Ritu al of Submission and D evotion took place once a year, was avoided by most of Sigil's inhabitants, and the square surrounding it was usually completely empty. Except on the Day of Pain, when the factols of Sigil entered the hall to perform the mysterious ritual, the purpose and nature of which no one knew. But every Cager knew one thing: Fifteen statues of mourning women surrounded the hall, and they looked exactly like the ones standing here. But why? Why were the same figures found in the catacombs beneath Broken Reach as on the Square of Pain in Sigil? It was a question that nagged at Naghûl, a question that would surely occupy his mind – but not one he could answer here and now. He could only note it with wonder as well as unease and focus on what lay directly before them: the sarcophagus - and hopefully the sword.
Sgillin cautiously examined the stairs leading up to the platform. “There are no traps here,” he said.
Slowly, they climbed up. The red smoke swirled lazily over the steps and around the base of the sarcophagus, seeming to recede in front of them only to gather behind them again, as if to cut off their retreat. Now they could also see the reliefs that ran around the outside of the sarcophagus. They showed a large city that seemed to stand on a disc, above which were three circles that might represent suns or moons – a bearded man in a long robe holding a kind of scepter – many people, a good two dozen or more, standing in a circle – three swords who according to their shape seemed to represent Hope, Memory and Sorrow - the same city as on the front side of the sarcophagus, but broken and in flames. Could this be Arendur from the last cycle? They stood around the sarcophagus, somewhat indecisive, no one daring to touch it or do anything.
Then Yelmalis seemed to notice something. “Wait ...” he said. “There's something written ...” He stepped closer to the pedestal on which the coffin rested, and sure enough, there was an inscription carved into it.
“Can you read it?” Tarik asked quietly.
“It's a pretty old inscription,” the wizard explained. “Another very early form of Common ... This is the tomb of Tolumvire ... where the White Sword rests.”
“Phew ...” muttered Sgillin, instinctively stepping back from the sarcophagus.
Naghûl also felt his hair stand on end and his tense alertness increase. “Here rests the guy who tried to prevent the downfall in the last cycle? And then failed? This room is supposed to be that old?”
Dilae also shuddered visibly. “And above all, how did his body get into this cycle? Unless this is just a symbolic burial site. But why here, underneath Broken Reach?”
Garush now stepped closer to the coffin. “The crucial question is: Is the sword inside, as Jana and Tarik saw it? So, shall we open it?”
“I'm in favor of it,” Lereia declared.
Jana nodded. “Yes, please.” However, she made no move to do anything. “But I can't lift the lid anyway, and I don't want to have anything to do with swords.”
Kiyoshi also hesitated, possibly fearing to anger the kami of this place, as he liked to put it.
“Let me try,” Garush said determinedly.
Naghûl also moved a little away from the pedestal. “Something's going to happen ...”
“I'm afraid so ...” replied the amazon, but she took a deep breath and climbed onto the stone pedestal to get a better grip of the coffin lid.
“We would look stupid if it wasn't in there now,” Sgillin remarked with a brief grin, although he didn't seem as relaxed and carefree as usual when he made his jokes.
Yelmalis couldn't help but laugh a little. “Yes, quite.”
Garush snorted briefly, and Naghûl almost thought that it sounded a little amused. Then she pushed against the lid, but it seemed to be very heavy because it didn't budge. She let go and lowered her head, took a deep breath, and pushed again, this time with much more force ... And the coffin lid moved. There was a crunching sound, the rough noise of stone on stone. With all her strength, the half-orc pushed the lid back until it tipped over and slid behind the coffin, where it remained leaning against it. Everyone flinched at the loud bang that echoed through the large hall and looked around in anticipation of an attack. But everything remained silent.
So they turned back and looked into the coffin, tense, curious, fearful ... They saw no embalmed corpse, no skeleton, not even remains. But on an almost decayed blue cloth lay a katana with a blade as white as ivory, covered with incredibly fine, intricate engravings. It lay there as if asleep. But now that everyone was looking at it, it seemed to awaken somehow. Naghûl hat the impression, that an invisible force was emanating from the sword ... And then it jerked slightly, sliding a little way through the coffin to the foot end. It rose, hovered ... hovered over the coffin and paused, as if searching, deliberating ... Then it flew with the hilt straight into Kiyoshi's hand, which he reflexively stretched out. The young man closed his fingers around the hilt, and then the White Sword lay quietly in his hand. Naghûl watched with a mixture of tension, amazement and enthusiasm. He heard Jana breathe a sigh of relief beside him. So Kiyoshi was the chosen bearer of Hope.
“That settles it,” Sgillin said with a smile.
Garush nodded. “I agree.” She seemed neither disappointed nor surprised, as if she had never really expected to be the bearer of the sword.
Kiyoshi, on the other hand, stood motionless, staring at the mystical katana in his hand. His orange eyes were filled with awe and a hint of disbelief. “I feel ... confused,” he admitted. “But hopeful.”
“Hopeful sounds good,” said Yelmalis. “Then let's hope we get out of here unscathed.”
“Exactly.” Sgillin nodded. “I don't want to be a killjoy, but we should leave now.”
Naghûl patted the half-elf briefly on the shoulder. “No, you're right: let's get out of here.”
The others nodded in agreement, and they quickly descended the stairs leading down from the platform with the sarcophagus. But no sooner had they reached the bottom than there was a loud bang - the door they had come through slammed shut with a thunderous crash. They immediately ran over and tried to open it, using the golden key again, but to no avail. Sgillin and Sekhemkare tried to pick the lock, but even after destroying several lock picks, they were unsuccessful. There was a mechanism here that they couldn't possibly bypass or overcome. While the half-elf and the yuan-ti worked on the door, the others searched the great hall for another exit – also in vain.
Finally, Lereia turned her gaze to the two floor mosaics. “ I n the circle of pentagrams only a sacrifice will bring you back up. Those were the words in the book.“
Naghûl sighed. Yes, this was probably the only way out. And it sounded anything but harmless or pleasant. ”The sacrifice,“ he said, ”was described somehow, wasn't it?“
Lereia nodded. ” Over this sacrifice, the veil of silence shall be cast .”
Kiyoshi looked thoughtfully at the white blade in his hand. “Honorable companions, perhaps the sword Hope can protect us from the worst – in whatever way it can.”
“Well, we're definitely not sacrificing any of us,” Jana said firmly.
“Could the veil of silence also mean a silence spell?” Lereia wondered.
Garush growled softly. “I hate this kind of thing ...”
Naghûl looked over at Yelmalis, who was slowly and intently pacing around one of the pentagrams embedded in the ground. One could see that he was thinking feverishly, and he was the one in the group whom the tiefling trusted most to find a solution to this puzzle.
“Yelmalis, what do you think?” he asked him.
The wizard stopped and looked up. “I fear ...”
“Me too ...” hissed Sekhemkare. “Since the door is closed ...”
“Exactly ...” Yelmalis nodded to the yuan-ti. “That's exactly what I meant.”
“What do you mean?” Sgillin asked tensely, with a hint of impatience.
“I also fear our way out is via the two pentagrams,” the wizard explained. “As Lereia quoted, the text in the book says that this is the only way to get back up.” He gestured at the red runes embedded in each of the pentagrams' points. “That looks like a teleportation spell to me.”
“That sounds good,” said Garush. “And how do we activate it? What does this sacrifice mean?”
“Maybe once more with blood?” Dilae suggested. “Like at the door with the eye?”
Naghûl, like Yelmalis, could sense the arcane energy emanating from the pentagrams, but as an intuitive magic user, he was less skilled at arcane analysis than a wizard. He therefore left this to the air genasi.
“The spell doesn't seem very complicated,” Yelmalis explained. “So it possibly triggers when we step on the runes in the points. Maybe only when they're all occupied.”
Lereia nodded. “One person on each point sounds plausible, doesn't it?”
“Then let's go,” Naghûl agreed. “I have a feeling we should get out of here really quickly.”
So Garush, Yelmalis, Tarik, Dilae and Sekhemkare gathered at one of the pentagrams while Naghûl, Lereia, Kiyoshi, Sgillin and Jana went over to the other one. Intuitively, each of the two groups found their way to one of the pentagrams without having discussed it, without even exchanging gestures or glances. And just as Yelmalis had suspected, after Jana was the last to step on the rune in one of the points, a teleportation spell was triggered ...
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played March 26, 2013
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