| |
| It was not a long journey. After
only twenty minutes of walking, they reached the
edge of the forest, and headed south to the
clearing with the sarcophagus. Countless undead
walked by them without turning, and Knightshade
felt dismayed at the steady flow of them. Before
long there would be no room for them in Ratling
Run and Bloodwood itself would be filled. When
they reached the clearing, they saw the
sarcophagus on the southern edge, it’s lid
pushed half off, revealing a dark opening. As
they approached, a skeleton, it’s joints
clicking softly, rose up from the opening and
climbed clumsily out into the sunlight. It paid
them no heed as it marched past them, to join
with its undead brethren. |
| |
| "Remember," MaitreSteph
said, " the invisibility spell will wear off
if you do anything aggressive. Please, stay calm
and focused. Hopefully we can reach the altar
without any bloodshed." |
| |
| Knightshade nodded, before
climbing over the edge. A ramp of stone led down
into the darkness. Once they were all gathered at
the bottom, they waited a few moments to let
their eyes adjust to the darkness. The easy part
was over, Knightshade thought to himself, as he
peered into the gloom. A corridor disappeared
into the darkness to the east. At this point,
Backlash led the way. He led them onwards, past
doors and other side corridors, confidence
evident in every step he took. Quietly they crept
past any undead that crossed their path, and
there were many to avoid. The noise of undead
feet marching on the stone floor, was rhythmic
and unending. Before long, Knightshade realised
that he was lost. He shuddered at the thought of
having to explore this underground warren on his
own. Without the boy, he probably would have been
under here for days without finding what he
sought. He only hoped that Backlash wasn’t
too confident. A wrong turn could be disastrous
for Leinster. |
| |
| After walking for many minutes,
and taking many passageways, Backlash finally led
them to an old, stone stairway that led downwards
into darkness. |
| |
| "This will take us down to
the second level," Backlash said. "The
altar is on the third level." |
| |
| Without another word he led them
down the stairway. The air was noticeably colder
down there, but otherwise the walls and floor
looked identical to the level above. Once again
they wound their way through passages and
doorways, dodging undead along the way. The
number of creatures walking these hallways were
small but steady. After another ten minutes they
found themselves at a second set of stairs. |
| |
| "The third level is
small," Backlash said. "There are only
a few rooms. There is an open doorway at the end
of the main corridor. An ante-room lies just
beyond it, where I saw the guard. And beyond that
is the altar room." |
| |
| "Excellent, "
MaitreSteph said. "You have done well,
student. Now you must let us lead." |
| |
| Backlash stepped back quietly
without fuss. Knightshade thought he looked
worried, and unusually subdued. He guessed that
the young mage feared the guard that waited for
them. Taking a deep breath, Knightshade headed
down the stairs, with the others close behind
him. At the bottom, a long corridor continued
eastward. Only two undead could be seen walking
towards the stairs, and they walked past them
without incident. As they approached the eastern
end, a large doorway could be seen. Light,
stronger than the dull glow of the natural fungus
that lit the rest of this maze, spilled out from
the ante-room that lay on the other side of the
doorway. The light didn’t reveal the entire
room however, and the north and south sides were
hidden in darkness. The light came from the room
beyond it. The altar room. |
| |
| Cautiously they approached the
doorway, wary for any signs of movement. When
they reached it, MaitreSteph laid a hand on
Knightshade’s arm. |
| |
| "There is indeed something
in there, my friend," he said softly.
"I cannot see it, but I sense it’s
presence. It feels like nothing I have ever
encountered before. Be wary." |
| |
| "We have no choice,"
Knightshade said, frustration creeping into his
voice. "We must pass by it." |
| |
| The decision was taken out of
their hands however as a shape materialised in
the doorway. Knightshade was expecting a hideous
daemon, sent by the dark lord. He was not
expecting the creature that floated gently in the
air before him. It was a woman. And her beauty
was breathtaking. Red hair, pale and fine, framed
a delicate face with finely chiselled features.
Her eyes were black as midnight, and stared
intently at them. Apart from her blood red lips,
the rest of her was bone white. Including the
dress that hung loosely on her thin frame. |
| |
| All three of them stood
transfixed as she swayed back and forth before
them. Then she made noise. It started as a soft
moan, that expressed great pain and sorrow. The
noise she made seemed to enter their minds,
bringing up memories of sadness that they had
long forgotten. Knightshade felt himself reliving
every moment of disappointment and despair he had
had in his life in terrible detail as the
apparition continued to moan. Soon her voice
became louder and stronger, and the moan turned
into a wail. Knightshade fell to his to his
knees, as the wail became a screech of such
immense power, that he felt hot tears stream down
his face unchecked. He was vaguely aware of
MaitreSteph on his knees beside him, caught up in
his own memories of grief and sorrow. Soon,
Knightshade felt so overcome with sadness, that
without truly realising what he was doing, he had
unsheathed his sword, and held it up to his own
throat. Such was the power of the creature before
him, that death was preferable, to seeing his own
failings and disappointment in such detail. |
| |
| Backlash was also affected, but
he had few memories to plague him. He felt a
little sadness but nothing more. The noise the
creature made was bothering him more though and
he was struggling to concentrate on the spell he
wished to cast. When he saw, Knightshade pull his
sword out of his scabbard, and hold it up to his
own throat, he abandoned the powerful spell he
was trying, and cast light dart instead. It was
an easy spell, requiring little concentration and
it shot forth at the creature with deadly
accuracy. When it struck, everything seemed to
happen at once. Knightshade and MaitreSteph
suddenly found themselves freed from her spell.
They had little time to ponder it though, as she
stopped wailing and flew straight at them. She
was no longer beautiful, but hideous and ugly,
her fine pale hands, now vicious claws, that
raked at Knightshade’s face. He barely
managed to avoid being blinded, as he twisted to
the side, and took the force of the blow on his
shoulder. Swinging his sword, he felt it bite
deep into creature, eliciting a howl of pain. |
| |
| The fight was a short one.
Knightshade’s sword, and the spells from the
two wizards, felled the creature in moments. It
seemed it had little defence once it’s voice
had failed. Except for the mental scarring of
reliving their sorrow, they were unscathed. |
| |
| "What was that thing?"
Knightshade asked, breathing heavily. |
| |
| "I can’t say for
sure," MaitreSteph said. "All I can
recall is the legend of the banshee, told to me
by my master when I was still an apprentice. They
were supposedly humans, who suffered sorrow so
great, that they were doomed to relive it, time
and again. Until now I thought they were just a
story to frighten children. I know not what
visions you saw, my friend, but I do not wish to
go through that again." |
| |
| Knightshade was about to reply
when he felt a clammy hand on his shoulder. A
zombie had wandered in from the altar room...and
it could see him. The spell of invisibility had
worn off when they had fought the banshee.
Knocking the hand aside, Knightshade swept his
word through the zombie’s body, nearly
cutting it in half. It fell to the floor in a
heap. |
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