As the hounds bounded across the amphitheatre with clacking paws, the party assembled themselves into a defensive formation with Mara’s prone body behind them. Having expended so much of their energy earlier, the casters could only meekly throw flaming bolts of energy at the creatures. These attacks glanced off their stony hides as their mouths opened to bite down on the rim of Arthur’s shield. He and Solvi found their stride with the orsan woman’s halberd hammering any creature that came too close.
Renaud howled in anger as one of the hounds tore into his suit. It had been lined with aulind wires so provided some modicum of protection. Yet the beast tore it open all the same, bringing scarlet droplets with it. In anger, Renaud grabbed either side of the creature’s head and appeared to disrupt the enchantment placed on these wardens. The hound staggered back, collapsing to rubble as the enchantment bade it move while unyielding rock refused.
“Alas, I had only the strength to dispel one! Brute force shall have to suffice for any Renata cannot break.” Renaud shouted over the din of battle, watching Solvi’s hammer shatter the head of one of the stone hounds. Unable to bite, it satisfied itself with impotently headbutting her grieves through the suit she wore. Renata, seeming to understand Renaud’s instruction, laid a hand on one Arthur was wrestling with. A few moments later, the stone assailant erupted into rubble. Renata heaved any leverage she could against the exhaustion washing over her. Mara, meanwhile, lay helplessly against the floor in the grips of Renaud’s spell. She could feel her extremities beginning to recover, though not enough to cast any magic of her own.
Fred slammed the butt of his rifle against the stone muzzle of a snarling hound, setting his chisel against the back of its mouth as it came to strike again. With a roar somewhere between fear and hate, Fred dropped his rifle and slammed the head of his mallet against the chisel’s head. With a satisfying clink, the hound’s mouth was split in two. The top of its head careened into the walkway below the dais while the body continued its attempts to maul him.
“I didn’t think these suits would be so resilient to animal attacks.” Arthur almost laughed, bringing his mace down upon the dog mauling Fred. The skitti rolled himself over, picking his rifle up as he went, and began firing into the remaining hounds that still bounded towards them. Thankfully, his rounds seemed to leave holes for the melee to exploit. The stone hide of the hounds was proving difficult for Solvi, who’d taken to bashing with the butt of her halberd when the hammer end simply skittered off.
“Our human companion has a point!” Renaud chuckled, pulling some of the wire from his torn suit and wrapping it about his fist as an impromptu knuckle duster. When a hound came to take advantage of his prone position, Renaud charged the wire with his small reserves. As the dog’s jaws threatened to wrap about his head, Renaud ducked to the side and slammed his fist into the creature’s chest. With a crack like Fred’s rifle, the statue was sent flying backwards with a crater now neatly carved into its chest. “Conductivity to disrupt the enchantment, magnificent improvisation.” Renaud grinned with active malice, wrapping his other fist with his teeth. Mara, now in control of her upper body, began crawling towards the doors either side of the dais, praying the hounds would concentrate on the moving targets more than the incapacitated one.
Several more hounds emerged from the antechamber but that was not what gave the party pause. Instead, what drove the party to greater anxiety was a pair of great alabaster hounds. Every movement they made left echoes of their colossal bulk to echo down the hallways. With resounding thuds, they moved towards the dais. Their teeth were exposed and their onyx eyes glinting in the dim light of Renaud’s orbs. One reared back, as if prepared to jump.
“The devils can have that!” Fred shouted, throwing himself towards the door Mara had just managed to slip open. Renaud seemed to be of a similar opinion, using a flight spell to get to the door. Well, more of a catapult spell. His trajectory sent him flying directly into the wall next to the door. Mara grabbed her mentor, dragging him one-handed into the room beyond. Solvi and Arthur nodded to each other as they practically threw Renata at the door, bashing the heads off any animated statue that dared to approach.
Curiously, as they all slid into the stairwell beyond the doors, the great white hounds did not follow. Renata took stock of the situation and practically laughed herself hoarse. Above them, on the arch leading to this stairwell, more Elysian writing glowed in the referred light of the amphitheatre.
“The Mausoleums. They cannot see these sacred chambers.” Renata staggered through her speech, hands on her knees as Arthur ministered to Renaud’s wound. It was nasty, even Renata with her limited medical knowledge could see that. Arthur laid his hands on the injury and uttered prayers, drawing upon what magic he could. The wound remained and Arthur grunted from the exertion, but it would not kill the older mage. After wrapping it with gauze and bandages, Arthur helped the professor to his feet and took a very stern expression with the party.
“We should avoid conflict as best we can. My healing abilities have been all but expended for the day.” Arthur spoke to the whole party before directing his attention towards the sombre-looking Renaud, who was at best humouring Arthur. “Coming here was an act of arrogance. And we have been punished for it accordingly.” The cleric castigated. Although he spoke collectively, he stressed the words wherever the party was concerned. Renaud’s nostrils flared but that aside he did not seem to register Arthur’s words, turning instead to the stairwell. With an idle motion, he guided his orbs of light along with him to illuminate yet more reliefs on the walls. These reliefs depicted the land of Annun, Arawn’s domain. The Elysians understood it to be a world built of necrotic energy where the dead were cleansed of their memories and burdens of their past life. There, they could live anew. This memory cleansing was what made resurrection difficult, Mara mused. If a soul traversed the Palace of Judgement, they were the wards of Arawn. Therefore, pulling them back would be to steal from a god. Not the wisest choice.
“I do ponder why the gods felt it necessary to destroy all we were before we died.” Renaud observed, staring at the reliefs as he limped his way down the stairs. “Mira’s observation on the dead outnumbering the living also implies that Annun is filled with far more souls than any world could reasonably support all at once!” The magus added, though it became clear nobody was listening to his ramblings as Renata took her notes before moving on. Solvi rarely paid attention to this doddering old fool regardless. Mara, it seemed, was lost in thought as she clung to Solvi’s back.
Fred’s occupation soon became vital as the skitti man held up a hand. The company came to a stop behind him. Climbing onto his hands and knees, the skitti man took a level from his pocket and held it to the step beneath him then its fellows lower on the staircase. Taking some chalk from his pocket, he very gingerly began to draw a small x on each individual tile of the stairs that didn’t meet his elusive standards.
“What kinda lunatic traps a bloody staircase?” Fred growled, crawling down the steps with his tail touching each tile before he settled a foot on it. The rest of the party merely walked on the left as every tile he marked seemed to be on the right of the staircase. “Come to think of it, ‘magine visitin’ yer nan’s grave only to get skewered in the gizzard by a pitfall.” Fred continued grumbling, his tail slapping Renaud’s boot away from a tile he was about to step on. The professor rolled his eyes before following Renata’s exact footsteps. Fred’s line of questioning had incited her curiosity as she followed his careful instruction to the bottom of the staircase. She looked up out of habit to see if the Elysians had left any additional clues to the purpose of this temple. What could justify this level of security?
She received her answer as she entered the first antechamber of the mausoleums. Renaud’s lights gave a shadowy cast to everything and so, upon entering, she assumed the walls were festooned with statues. However, as she approached one of these statues to note its subject, she recoiled in horror. A small gasp of surprise had escaped her, prompting Mara to poke her head over Solvi’s shoulder to investigate. Renata had balked at what first appeared to be a suit of armour. Yet as Solvi walked closer, Mara saw that the inside of its helmet sat a skull. A leering, presumably elvish skull that had been plated with all manner of aulind arcanography. The sight of which made Mara swallow her nerves.
“Nobody should touch them. They’re undead.” Mara commented, spying the fainted flicker of blue light within the empty eye sockets. Blue light that would flare to full flames if they woke these creatures. Renaud cast his eye over these bones with a contemptuous smirk, turning to gaze at Mara. Solvi turned herself bodily towards Renaud, as if daring him.
“Are we to believe that these decorated dead are anything more than impotent skeletons raised by ambient magic?” The professor drawled, threatening to tap one on the side of the head with his staff. Arthur’s hand lashed out to grip the staff. His face had set into her another stern look, which Renata imitated as she attempted her luck with the locking mechanism of the door to the next room.
“The aulind plating is a sure give away that they’re Rev Chelli. Ghost Soldiers.” Mara tartly replied, causing everyone in the room to affix her with a curious look. A mage would rarely know such things. Particularly a Gardish mage where the creation of such creatures was at best a forbidden technique. At worst, would see you hanged for attempting to make one. Renaud, however, simply took several steps from the creature. He went paler and paler by the second.
“Those who protected the Star Palace? Mira’s personal elite guard? Those Rev Chelli?” Renaud almost whimpered, attracting a devious smile from Renata as she toyed with the lock. Eventually, Fred pushed her aside and took out his lockpicks. Mara experimentally flexed one of her boots before replying, stepping off Solvi’s back with an appreciative pat on the larger woman’s back.
“Yes. Which makes me even more curious. If these additional doors lead to burial chambers and Fred is trying to open a door, why haven’t they woken up?” Mara posited as she wandered around the room, investigating the chamber closely. Renaud saw her line of reasoning and pushed his orbs higher, illuminating more of the chamber as he did so. This chamber was octagonal, domed and highly decorated with twisting vines ensnaring the pillars. The imperious busts of elves leered from alcoves near the roof. Many had androgynous features, but Mara attributed this to the fact that Elysians didn’t particularly like expressions of the self in that way. Many projected confidence, gravitas and intellect. It was not the elves however that noticed the strangeness about these busts. Mara had turned her attention to the heraldry of Mira mosaiced into the ground with tiny black stones.
“’Ere why are all these arrogant nobs lookin’ at the floor?” Fred observed as he abandoned his own attempts with the lock. Every eye simultaneously slid to observe this strange coincidence before the party collectively turned to Renata, assuming some cultural significance of this fact. Renata took a moment, pacing about the room with Renaud desperately trying to imitate wakefulness behind her. Arthur appeared next to him, passing a mirror before his eyes.
“Busts typically look down upon the viewer to convey gravitas and dignity. It could very well be an extreme variation of that.” Renata pondered, tapping Solvi’s shoulder for a leg-up. The large woman obliged with much grumbling, having lost entirely the notion of posterity being a useful motivator. Solvi looked thoroughly ready to abandon the temple to its well-deserved damnation and memory. “Even stranger! These busts have been carved with inscriptions. Usually, Elysian nobility assumed you were important enough to know them by their face alone.” Renata crowed, noting down the names she could see. As she wrote, her glee was overcome by a consternation of realisation’s design. “But these people aren’t buried here. Lyn Van Areth is still alive, for one! She’s Empress of the Idharan Empire.” Renata breathed, visible confusion overtaking her as she turned to spy a most unusual bust. That of a skitti. “Xin the Lifebringer? This is an elvish burial place!”
“There is context you’re not considering Renata. Whom these people served.” Renaud growled through Arthur’s care, pulling a face at the bitter unguent he was told to drink. Arthur had helpfully poked a straw under his mask, extracting a sly chuckle from Mara. Renata, being helped down by Solvi, felt her face drop. “There it is. We’re being laughed at four thousand years ago by Ir Tolves.” Renaud winked, indicating to the floor. Fred immediately set to work, taking his mallet to the mosaic. He was not intent on destroying it, as Renata had feared. Instead, he set his head to the floor and tapped it every few paces. Taking out a scrap of paper, he began marking it with charcoal to reflect what he was hearing. Once his work had completed and Renaud ceased his griping, he held the results of his experiment to Renata.
“Look like anythin’ to you? Got lots of weird hollow spaces. I ain’t a bettin’ man but I’d say there’s some kinda mechanism underneath.” Fred observed, pointing to several voids where gears and moving elements could fit should there be a need. Fred also sniffed one of the pillars before taking an experimental lick. “Yeah, that’s bedrock. Pure an’ simple. No volcanoes in this part of the world. Those voids were carved.” Fred continued, a grin curling across his rat-like face as his diminutive form made its way past the party who were growing increasingly concerned for his sanity. “Not made of soft or porous rock either. Nah, someone got devious with this place.” Fred rubbed his hands together with excitement, searching for any external elements he could find. He eventually conceded defeat, scratching his head.
“Master Seeker, this is Elysian technology. It requires a magical touch most likely. Which means we won’t be opening secret chambers today.” Renata smiled down at Fred, who growled in disappointment before setting to work on the door they’d been attempting to open before. Renaud’s dour expression drove Renata to affix him with a dominating gaze. “Don’t even think of it, you two-faced turpid. One wrong guess and the challi will be eager to recruit us to their bony platoon.” The professor warned, grabbing the ailing Renaud by his scruff and half shoving him through the door as Fred pried it open. Solvi followed shortly while Mara remained, staring into the centre of the sunburst. The black mist curled about her frame and a devious idea presented itself to her.
Mara held her hands aloft, palms turned upwards and allowed herself to reach out. To many mages, this was the point at which a line was crossed. Even as she committed this grave taboo, she felt the spirits of those dead who found themselves near crowd around. Those who had stories to tell, requests to make and messages to pass on. But she pushed them aside, the voice urging her deeper. Somewhere, deep in the darkness of Annun, her quarry waited. A message held in stasis, waiting for anyone with the correct skill to read. Somewhere far from her consciousness, she vaguely heard Renaud and Solvi shouting her name. She drifted back with the message. A spell inscribed by the hand of the Herald herself. Taking it between her hands, she thrust the power she felt into the sunburst at her feet.
With a vibration that shook dust from the ceiling, the mosaic began to rise about her, energy crackling between the motes of black stone. Solidified necrotic energy, stabilized into a crystalline form. Created by the finest arcanists of her people. With each one scintillating at the correct frequency, a long-forgotten song rang out through the chamber. Beneath Mara’s feet, the mosaic began to rearrange itself around a hidden platform that floated eerily in empty space. Large enough to carry the party twice over.
“Did you just perform necromancy?!” Renata demanded, as Mara stepped onto the platform. She held herself with an odd confidence, as if waiting for the others to follow. Solvi, walking with an uncertain step, joined her roommate. Dread seemed to fill her at the prospect of going even further into this forsaken temple. Renaud shrugged, joining her shortly after with a gainful smile.
“I didn’t see necromancy. I simply saw the correct formulation being used to open the way.” Renaud grinned in that infuriatingly smug way of his. Renata found herself torn between curiosity and disgust, being all too familiar with necromancers and their designs. In retrospect, Renata supposed it was only inevitable that Mira would seal her most hidden secrets with a magic only she and her most loyal could perform. Fred and Arthur shortly joined the rest of the party on the platform, the skitti going so far as to say he wasn’t a grass before doing so. Renata felt her inner graduate student take over her sensibilities and practically leapt aboard the platform, lest she lose her nerve.
The platform began to move seemingly of its own accord, taking the troupe further into the darkened depths of the earth. Renaud’s lights could not keep up with its speed, vanishing into the darkness above them as an uncomfortable enforced twilight began to hold sway. Once the platform came to a stop, the party were greeted by what appeared to be half natural cave, half Elysian stronghold. Carefully, the party began to parse their way through the darkness with Renaud struggling through the pain to incant his light spell again. Eventually, the elderly man halted the group to press his thumb angrily against his wound. With pain lacing every syllable, he called his enchantment into being once more. Drenched in sweat, he nodded to the group to proceed. Mara had seen this trick done a few times. She’d seen elves incite the pain of their wounds merely so the clarity would drive away the fog of blood loss or, in Renaud’s case, concussion. She wasn’t sure it was particularly healthy but refused to comment on the man’s stubbornness any further for the day.
The party moved through snaking semi-formed corridors of stone plated intermittently with wires, devices and measuring equipment long since eroded to the mere shape of their former selves. Mara found herself impressed that after four thousand years these corridors were still present at all. As she walked, her suit began to emit soft chimes. Digging through her robe’s upper pockets, she extracted her arcanometer from her suit’s collar to take a reading under Renaud’s lights.
“I can probably locate what Mira was working on by following this. The unfortunate reality, however, is that the emanations appear to be getting stronger as we get close to whatever it is. Please repair your suit, sora.” Mara observed with a confident air, following her arcanometer through another archway. Then another, the party barely keeping pace as Renaud unwrapped the wire from his fist and, walking awkwardly, sewing his suit closed with it. Renata began to give into her anxious thoughts somewhat, following Mara’s chiming metal box with as much faith as she followed Renaud’s opinions on history. This entire facility had been built beneath a temple and for what? Extra storage? Hidden labs? Had they fallen into maintenance shafts or an old mine?
Her thoughts were rudely interrupted as Mara appeared to vanish into the darkness, swore and remerged moments later.
“There are a few working lights here. Which should help with what I just saw.” Mara said brightly, the group following their excitable tour guide through the remains of a heavy metal door of some kind. Many had to bow to get through the small gap while Solvi had to practically crawl. Fred brought her halberd through without even nodding his head. Renaud’s lights rose high into the air, to their very limit. Their light barely touched the walls, a few glowing crystals on the far side of the chamber. The mage held his hand aloft, reading the room with a spell rather than device. He cried out as pain lanced through his head, choosing to sit on rubble rather than risk another head injury.
Mara, with her audience prepared, tapped one of the crystals. Immediately, a red glow began to emanate across the chamber from numerous of its brethren embedded in the walls. Many remained dull yet enough illuminated the chamber to draw shocked gasps from those assembled. They were sitting in what appeared to be a large dodecahedral chamber, carved into the mountain itself. At each intersection of its points, a large spike of aulind had been driven into the rock with wire enveloping its base. These wires then ran through grooves in the rock to the other spikes. The party sat at its base, surrounded by three doors, one of which they had just entered.
“I’m guessin’ these elves were really into fancy shapes.” Fred dryly observed, his neck craning to see the top of the cavern. From those lofty heights, a gangway had been erected which allowed the softly glowing red lights to shed their light to the upper reaches. Renaud snorted derisively, laying back on his rubble pile in disbelief. He looked as if the sky had written his name in fire, a mixture of fear and exaltation etched into every pore of his smiling face.
“I can see why you were so excited Mara. What I’m looking at was theorized but never built. Far too expensive. That a conduit of this size should exist at all, let alone work after four thousand years….” Renaud trailed off, observing tiny sparks strip themselves free of the aulind spikes to drift across the empty space. Renaud laughed giddily, taking a grip of his staff to steady himself as he rose to his feet. “That’s why they built it so far down. To reach a ley line.” Renaud marvelled, more to himself as Renata furiously scribbled context into her notebook. She barely acknowledged Renaud’s musing as she speculated as to the purpose of this grand chamber. Was it perhaps ceremonial?
Mara, more of a hands-on academic, began moving over to the doors. Through one she discovered what appeared to be the remains of a lab, heavily calcified by years of dripping water and shifting rock. An uncomfortable reminder of the sheer volume of stone above their heads. Her arcanometer’s gentle chiming turned to furious, deep tolls as she moved towards the second door. But she could not help herself, curiosity overpowering every instinct to avoid these harmful emanations. She would resist them, just as she’d done before.
As she opened the door she was faced with the impossible. What had once been another lab had since been crushed and twisted inwards with the floor perpetually frozen as it buckled upwards. Similarly, the ceiling seemed to be held in a state of collapse. At the centre of this nature-defying scene lay a jagged tear into the fabric of the world itself. A hollow gap of sheer blackness that distorted the world behind it at the edges of its ragged existence. It buffeted her with a degree of necrotic energy that even her suit found hard to cope with, arcanometer screeching one continuous tone in warning. Its caterwauling drew the attention of the party, who investigated the room only briefly before running with all haste in the opposite direction. Mara merely sat there; jovial mood evaporated by the gaze of this abyss. She shook in place, breathing coming in fitful bursts. Her heart strained against her sternum, limbs loosening as her vision slowly began to blacken. Solvi took no time in grabbing Mara, spiriting her away from the doorway.
“What in the gods’ name is that doing here?!” Solvi howled at Renata, who had busied herself applying protective charms to those Arthur had not already covered with his own. Renata shook her head, eyes wide with disbelief. None of this was supposed to be here. Not a conduit, nor labs, nor a tear into the skin of reality. Renaud sent his lights into the darkness of the rift, teeth gritted with a mixture of determination and fear. His fear was well founded.
“Danu preserve us, it’s Annun. The Underworld is open!” Renaud shouted over his shoulder, protective charm visibly wearing away from the corrosive projections of the portal. Regardless, he poked his head around the doorway once more to see what his spell had illuminated. He backed away, hand shaking as he held it to the mouth of his mask. Solvi briefly worried that the room was filling with toxic gases, but Renaud’s next utterance filled her with far more dread. “The Crook of Arawn. Someone is in Annun holding the Crook of Arawn.” Came a fearful whisper, audible to all those around. Mara found herself timidly turning her head to this news.
“Whatever magic is necessary to close that rift we must.” Solvi spoke with resolve, Arthur nodding his approval of this sentiment. Renaud rounded on her as if she’d said some grave insult, eyes practically bulging in disbelief.
“The staff of a god is within reach, and you would have me just leave it?” Renaud’s hands curled into fists, as if all thought of magic had left him and only pure violence remained in his mind. Solvi stood her ground, Mara held against her for reassurance as the mage recovered from the grip of her anxiety. Both Arthur and Renata squared up to the professor, Arthur with his hand on his mace.
“Nothing good can come of a tool of the gods in the hands of a mortal.” Arthur condemned Renaud with a curiously empathetic voice, knowing the temptations such power could bring. With the Crook one could resurrect the dead, cure disease and stay pestilence. But history had shown that the Crook could also bring tides of undead to bear. It could extend the life of its user to preternatural lengths. Renaud knew these things too, Renata was sure. She shook her head in disgust, that her former lover could be drawn to such things. “Leaving aside that Annun is so saturated with necrotic energy that you’ll die before you reach it, it’s better left in the land of its master.” Arthur tried to speak in a conciliatory tone, yet it seemed to make Renaud bristle even more.
“Do you think me so infirm, boy?” Renaud spat. His face had twisted away from its congenial smug grin to a frown of slighted rage. “I shall not enter Annun and retrieve the staff. We shall allow the necromancer to do it.” Came the addendum, setting a spark to the powder keg and forcing all to their feet. Incoherent protests and anger flew across one another and collided in a kaleidoscope of pent-up fury that had been simmering unchecked for days. Eventually, Solvi found herself on her feet with her hands gripping Renaud’s lapels. An escalation that sent a dangerous flash of malice through the older elf’s eyes.
“You think my people lay claim to things we don’t have right to? You lay claim to her achievements! You lay claim to her ingenuity! And now you lay claim to her very autonomy? I spit on your judgement, Gaius!” Solvi bellowed at the man’s face, fist raising as she did so. Renaud’s hand rose in kind, sparking with electrical energies conjured from thin air. Renata, ever the level-headed one of the party suddenly noticed something the others hadn’t. Their rage had quite literally blinded them.
“Where’s Mara?” She asked, prompting those assembled to look about. Solvi glanced at the rock she’d left the poor panicking girl on only to see empty gravel and slabs. Renata and she shared a look before Solvi broke into a run, pelting towards the room that held the tear. Fear gripped her heart, hysterical gasps tormenting her as her armour seemed to tighten against her heaving chest. All that dropped away when she flew into the chamber to see Mara’s suit flapping against the gentle breeze the tear was making with its pull.
Desperately, Solvi called out to her companion. It was fruitless. Mara’s masked face merely turned to look over her shoulder. The black mist Solvi had been noticing these past few days streamed from her eyes. The black mist that appeared so rarely before now governed the mind of her closest. Solvi felt tears burn the edges of her eyes, pleas leaving her lips half-formed. Mara, if she felt anything, could not show it as she walked through the tear. Solvi felt hands tearing at her, Arthur’s voice shouting her down. She strained against them, desperate to save Mara from herself. In the end, Renaud’s insulting voice called out with a spell and sent the orsan woman flying. She landed, defeated and hopeless, at the mage’s feet. This mage who’d goaded his sana to her demise. This mage who would know his own, soon enough.
As the hounds bounded across the amphitheatre with clacking paws, the party assembled themselves into a defensive formation with Mara’s prone body behind them. Having expended so much of their energy earlier, the casters could only meekly throw flaming bolts of energy at the creatures. These attacks glanced off their stony hides as their mouths opened to bite down on the rim of Arthur’s shield. He and Solvi found their stride with the orsan woman’s halberd hammering any creature that came too close.
Renaud howled in anger as one of the hounds tore into his suit. It had been lined with aulind wires so provided some modicum of protection. Yet the beast tore it open all the same, bringing scarlet droplets with it. In anger, Renaud grabbed either side of the creature’s head and appeared to disrupt the enchantment placed on these wardens. The hound staggered back, collapsing to rubble as the enchantment bade it move while unyielding rock refused.
“Alas, I had only the strength to dispel one! Brute force shall have to suffice for any Renata cannot break.” Renaud shouted over the din of battle, watching Solvi’s hammer shatter the head of one of the stone hounds. Unable to bite, it satisfied itself with impotently headbutting her grieves through the suit she wore. Renata, seeming to understand Renaud’s instruction, laid a hand on one Arthur was wrestling with. A few moments later, the stone assailant erupted into rubble. Renata heaved any leverage she could against the exhaustion washing over her. Mara, meanwhile, lay helplessly against the floor in the grips of Renaud’s spell. She could feel her extremities beginning to recover, though not enough to cast any magic of her own.
Fred slammed the butt of his rifle against the stone muzzle of a snarling hound, setting his chisel against the back of its mouth as it came to strike again. With a roar somewhere between fear and hate, Fred dropped his rifle and slammed the head of his mallet against the chisel’s head. With a satisfying clink, the hound’s mouth was split in two. The top of its head careened into the walkway below the dais while the body continued its attempts to maul him.
“I didn’t think these suits would be so resilient to animal attacks.” Arthur almost laughed, bringing his mace down upon the dog mauling Fred. The skitti rolled himself over, picking his rifle up as he went, and began firing into the remaining hounds that still bounded towards them. Thankfully, his rounds seemed to leave holes for the melee to exploit. The stone hide of the hounds was proving difficult for Solvi, who’d taken to bashing with the butt of her halberd when the hammer end simply skittered off.
“Our human companion has a point!” Renaud chuckled, pulling some of the wire from his torn suit and wrapping it about his fist as an impromptu knuckle duster. When a hound came to take advantage of his prone position, Renaud charged the wire with his small reserves. As the dog’s jaws threatened to wrap about his head, Renaud ducked to the side and slammed his fist into the creature’s chest. With a crack like Fred’s rifle, the statue was sent flying backwards with a crater now neatly carved into its chest. “Conductivity to disrupt the enchantment, magnificent improvisation.” Renaud grinned with active malice, wrapping his other fist with his teeth. Mara, now in control of her upper body, began crawling towards the doors either side of the dais, praying the hounds would concentrate on the moving targets more than the incapacitated one.
Several more hounds emerged from the antechamber but that was not what gave the party pause. Instead, what drove the party to greater anxiety was a pair of great alabaster hounds. Every movement they made left echoes of their colossal bulk to echo down the hallways. With resounding thuds, they moved towards the dais. Their teeth were exposed and their onyx eyes glinting in the dim light of Renaud’s orbs. One reared back, as if prepared to jump.
“The devils can have that!” Fred shouted, throwing himself towards the door Mara had just managed to slip open. Renaud seemed to be of a similar opinion, using a flight spell to get to the door. Well, more of a catapult spell. His trajectory sent him flying directly into the wall next to the door. Mara grabbed her mentor, dragging him one-handed into the room beyond. Solvi and Arthur nodded to each other as they practically threw Renata at the door, bashing the heads off any animated statue that dared to approach.
Curiously, as they all slid into the stairwell beyond the doors, the great white hounds did not follow. Renata took stock of the situation and practically laughed herself hoarse. Above them, on the arch leading to this stairwell, more Elysian writing glowed in the referred light of the amphitheatre.
“The Mausoleums. They cannot see these sacred chambers.” Renata staggered through her speech, hands on her knees as Arthur ministered to Renaud’s wound. It was nasty, even Renata with her limited medical knowledge could see that. Arthur laid his hands on the injury and uttered prayers, drawing upon what magic he could. The wound remained and Arthur grunted from the exertion, but it would not kill the older mage. After wrapping it with gauze and bandages, Arthur helped the professor to his feet and took a very stern expression with the party.
“We should avoid conflict as best we can. My healing abilities have been all but expended for the day.” Arthur spoke to the whole party before directing his attention towards the sombre-looking Renaud, who was at best humouring Arthur. “Coming here was an act of arrogance. And we have been punished for it accordingly.” The cleric castigated. Although he spoke collectively, he stressed the words wherever the party was concerned. Renaud’s nostrils flared but that aside he did not seem to register Arthur’s words, turning instead to the stairwell. With an idle motion, he guided his orbs of light along with him to illuminate yet more reliefs on the walls. These reliefs depicted the land of Annun, Arawn’s domain. The Elysians understood it to be a world built of necrotic energy where the dead were cleansed of their memories and burdens of their past life. There, they could live anew. This memory cleansing was what made resurrection difficult, Mara mused. If a soul traversed the Palace of Judgement, they were the wards of Arawn. Therefore, pulling them back would be to steal from a god. Not the wisest choice.
“I do ponder why the gods felt it necessary to destroy all we were before we died.” Renaud observed, staring at the reliefs as he limped his way down the stairs. “Mira’s observation on the dead outnumbering the living also implies that Annun is filled with far more souls than any world could reasonably support all at once!” The magus added, though it became clear nobody was listening to his ramblings as Renata took her notes before moving on. Solvi rarely paid attention to this doddering old fool regardless. Mara, it seemed, was lost in thought as she clung to Solvi’s back.
Fred’s occupation soon became vital as the skitti man held up a hand. The company came to a stop behind him. Climbing onto his hands and knees, the skitti man took a level from his pocket and held it to the step beneath him then its fellows lower on the staircase. Taking some chalk from his pocket, he very gingerly began to draw a small x on each individual tile of the stairs that didn’t meet his elusive standards.
“What kinda lunatic traps a bloody staircase?” Fred growled, crawling down the steps with his tail touching each tile before he settled a foot on it. The rest of the party merely walked on the left as every tile he marked seemed to be on the right of the staircase. “Come to think of it, ‘magine visitin’ yer nan’s grave only to get skewered in the gizzard by a pitfall.” Fred continued grumbling, his tail slapping Renaud’s boot away from a tile he was about to step on. The professor rolled his eyes before following Renata’s exact footsteps. Fred’s line of questioning had incited her curiosity as she followed his careful instruction to the bottom of the staircase. She looked up out of habit to see if the Elysians had left any additional clues to the purpose of this temple. What could justify this level of security?
She received her answer as she entered the first antechamber of the mausoleums. Renaud’s lights gave a shadowy cast to everything and so, upon entering, she assumed the walls were festooned with statues. However, as she approached one of these statues to note its subject, she recoiled in horror. A small gasp of surprise had escaped her, prompting Mara to poke her head over Solvi’s shoulder to investigate. Renata had balked at what first appeared to be a suit of armour. Yet as Solvi walked closer, Mara saw that the inside of its helmet sat a skull. A leering, presumably elvish skull that had been plated with all manner of aulind arcanography. The sight of which made Mara swallow her nerves.
“Nobody should touch them. They’re undead.” Mara commented, spying the fainted flicker of blue light within the empty eye sockets. Blue light that would flare to full flames if they woke these creatures. Renaud cast his eye over these bones with a contemptuous smirk, turning to gaze at Mara. Solvi turned herself bodily towards Renaud, as if daring him.
“Are we to believe that these decorated dead are anything more than impotent skeletons raised by ambient magic?” The professor drawled, threatening to tap one on the side of the head with his staff. Arthur’s hand lashed out to grip the staff. His face had set into her another stern look, which Renata imitated as she attempted her luck with the locking mechanism of the door to the next room.
“The aulind plating is a sure give away that they’re Rev Chelli. Ghost Soldiers.” Mara tartly replied, causing everyone in the room to affix her with a curious look. A mage would rarely know such things. Particularly a Gardish mage where the creation of such creatures was at best a forbidden technique. At worst, would see you hanged for attempting to make one. Renaud, however, simply took several steps from the creature. He went paler and paler by the second.
“Those who protected the Star Palace? Mira’s personal elite guard? Those Rev Chelli?” Renaud almost whimpered, attracting a devious smile from Renata as she toyed with the lock. Eventually, Fred pushed her aside and took out his lockpicks. Mara experimentally flexed one of her boots before replying, stepping off Solvi’s back with an appreciative pat on the larger woman’s back.
“Yes. Which makes me even more curious. If these additional doors lead to burial chambers and Fred is trying to open a door, why haven’t they woken up?” Mara posited as she wandered around the room, investigating the chamber closely. Renaud saw her line of reasoning and pushed his orbs higher, illuminating more of the chamber as he did so. This chamber was octagonal, domed and highly decorated with twisting vines ensnaring the pillars. The imperious busts of elves leered from alcoves near the roof. Many had androgynous features, but Mara attributed this to the fact that Elysians didn’t particularly like expressions of the self in that way. Many projected confidence, gravitas and intellect. It was not the elves however that noticed the strangeness about these busts. Mara had turned her attention to the heraldry of Mira mosaiced into the ground with tiny black stones.
“’Ere why are all these arrogant nobs lookin’ at the floor?” Fred observed as he abandoned his own attempts with the lock. Every eye simultaneously slid to observe this strange coincidence before the party collectively turned to Renata, assuming some cultural significance of this fact. Renata took a moment, pacing about the room with Renaud desperately trying to imitate wakefulness behind her. Arthur appeared next to him, passing a mirror before his eyes.
“Busts typically look down upon the viewer to convey gravitas and dignity. It could very well be an extreme variation of that.” Renata pondered, tapping Solvi’s shoulder for a leg-up. The large woman obliged with much grumbling, having lost entirely the notion of posterity being a useful motivator. Solvi looked thoroughly ready to abandon the temple to its well-deserved damnation and memory. “Even stranger! These busts have been carved with inscriptions. Usually, Elysian nobility assumed you were important enough to know them by their face alone.” Renata crowed, noting down the names she could see. As she wrote, her glee was overcome by a consternation of realisation’s design. “But these people aren’t buried here. Lyn Van Areth is still alive, for one! She’s Empress of the Idharan Empire.” Renata breathed, visible confusion overtaking her as she turned to spy a most unusual bust. That of a skitti. “Xin the Lifebringer? This is an elvish burial place!”
“There is context you’re not considering Renata. Whom these people served.” Renaud growled through Arthur’s care, pulling a face at the bitter unguent he was told to drink. Arthur had helpfully poked a straw under his mask, extracting a sly chuckle from Mara. Renata, being helped down by Solvi, felt her face drop. “There it is. We’re being laughed at four thousand years ago by Ir Tolves.” Renaud winked, indicating to the floor. Fred immediately set to work, taking his mallet to the mosaic. He was not intent on destroying it, as Renata had feared. Instead, he set his head to the floor and tapped it every few paces. Taking out a scrap of paper, he began marking it with charcoal to reflect what he was hearing. Once his work had completed and Renaud ceased his griping, he held the results of his experiment to Renata.
“Look like anythin’ to you? Got lots of weird hollow spaces. I ain’t a bettin’ man but I’d say there’s some kinda mechanism underneath.” Fred observed, pointing to several voids where gears and moving elements could fit should there be a need. Fred also sniffed one of the pillars before taking an experimental lick. “Yeah, that’s bedrock. Pure an’ simple. No volcanoes in this part of the world. Those voids were carved.” Fred continued, a grin curling across his rat-like face as his diminutive form made its way past the party who were growing increasingly concerned for his sanity. “Not made of soft or porous rock either. Nah, someone got devious with this place.” Fred rubbed his hands together with excitement, searching for any external elements he could find. He eventually conceded defeat, scratching his head.
“Master Seeker, this is Elysian technology. It requires a magical touch most likely. Which means we won’t be opening secret chambers today.” Renata smiled down at Fred, who growled in disappointment before setting to work on the door they’d been attempting to open before. Renaud’s dour expression drove Renata to affix him with a dominating gaze. “Don’t even think of it, you two-faced turpid. One wrong guess and the challi will be eager to recruit us to their bony platoon.” The professor warned, grabbing the ailing Renaud by his scruff and half shoving him through the door as Fred pried it open. Solvi followed shortly while Mara remained, staring into the centre of the sunburst. The black mist curled about her frame and a devious idea presented itself to her.
Mara held her hands aloft, palms turned upwards and allowed herself to reach out. To many mages, this was the point at which a line was crossed. Even as she committed this grave taboo, she felt the spirits of those dead who found themselves near crowd around. Those who had stories to tell, requests to make and messages to pass on. But she pushed them aside, the voice urging her deeper. Somewhere, deep in the darkness of Annun, her quarry waited. A message held in stasis, waiting for anyone with the correct skill to read. Somewhere far from her consciousness, she vaguely heard Renaud and Solvi shouting her name. She drifted back with the message. A spell inscribed by the hand of the Herald herself. Taking it between her hands, she thrust the power she felt into the sunburst at her feet.
With a vibration that shook dust from the ceiling, the mosaic began to rise about her, energy crackling between the motes of black stone. Solidified necrotic energy, stabilized into a crystalline form. Created by the finest arcanists of her people. With each one scintillating at the correct frequency, a long-forgotten song rang out through the chamber. Beneath Mara’s feet, the mosaic began to rearrange itself around a hidden platform that floated eerily in empty space. Large enough to carry the party twice over.
“Did you just perform necromancy?!” Renata demanded, as Mara stepped onto the platform. She held herself with an odd confidence, as if waiting for the others to follow. Solvi, walking with an uncertain step, joined her roommate. Dread seemed to fill her at the prospect of going even further into this forsaken temple. Renaud shrugged, joining her shortly after with a gainful smile.
“I didn’t see necromancy. I simply saw the correct formulation being used to open the way.” Renaud grinned in that infuriatingly smug way of his. Renata found herself torn between curiosity and disgust, being all too familiar with necromancers and their designs. In retrospect, Renata supposed it was only inevitable that Mira would seal her most hidden secrets with a magic only she and her most loyal could perform. Fred and Arthur shortly joined the rest of the party on the platform, the skitti going so far as to say he wasn’t a grass before doing so. Renata felt her inner graduate student take over her sensibilities and practically leapt aboard the platform, lest she lose her nerve.
The platform began to move seemingly of its own accord, taking the troupe further into the darkened depths of the earth. Renaud’s lights could not keep up with its speed, vanishing into the darkness above them as an uncomfortable enforced twilight began to hold sway. Once the platform came to a stop, the party were greeted by what appeared to be half natural cave, half Elysian stronghold. Carefully, the party began to parse their way through the darkness with Renaud struggling through the pain to incant his light spell again. Eventually, the elderly man halted the group to press his thumb angrily against his wound. With pain lacing every syllable, he called his enchantment into being once more. Drenched in sweat, he nodded to the group to proceed. Mara had seen this trick done a few times. She’d seen elves incite the pain of their wounds merely so the clarity would drive away the fog of blood loss or, in Renaud’s case, concussion. She wasn’t sure it was particularly healthy but refused to comment on the man’s stubbornness any further for the day.
The party moved through snaking semi-formed corridors of stone plated intermittently with wires, devices and measuring equipment long since eroded to the mere shape of their former selves. Mara found herself impressed that after four thousand years these corridors were still present at all. As she walked, her suit began to emit soft chimes. Digging through her robe’s upper pockets, she extracted her arcanometer from her suit’s collar to take a reading under Renaud’s lights.
“I can probably locate what Mira was working on by following this. The unfortunate reality, however, is that the emanations appear to be getting stronger as we get close to whatever it is. Please repair your suit, sora.” Mara observed with a confident air, following her arcanometer through another archway. Then another, the party barely keeping pace as Renaud unwrapped the wire from his fist and, walking awkwardly, sewing his suit closed with it. Renata began to give into her anxious thoughts somewhat, following Mara’s chiming metal box with as much faith as she followed Renaud’s opinions on history. This entire facility had been built beneath a temple and for what? Extra storage? Hidden labs? Had they fallen into maintenance shafts or an old mine?
Her thoughts were rudely interrupted as Mara appeared to vanish into the darkness, swore and remerged moments later.
“There are a few working lights here. Which should help with what I just saw.” Mara said brightly, the group following their excitable tour guide through the remains of a heavy metal door of some kind. Many had to bow to get through the small gap while Solvi had to practically crawl. Fred brought her halberd through without even nodding his head. Renaud’s lights rose high into the air, to their very limit. Their light barely touched the walls, a few glowing crystals on the far side of the chamber. The mage held his hand aloft, reading the room with a spell rather than device. He cried out as pain lanced through his head, choosing to sit on rubble rather than risk another head injury.
Mara, with her audience prepared, tapped one of the crystals. Immediately, a red glow began to emanate across the chamber from numerous of its brethren embedded in the walls. Many remained dull yet enough illuminated the chamber to draw shocked gasps from those assembled. They were sitting in what appeared to be a large dodecahedral chamber, carved into the mountain itself. At each intersection of its points, a large spike of aulind had been driven into the rock with wire enveloping its base. These wires then ran through grooves in the rock to the other spikes. The party sat at its base, surrounded by three doors, one of which they had just entered.
“I’m guessin’ these elves were really into fancy shapes.” Fred dryly observed, his neck craning to see the top of the cavern. From those lofty heights, a gangway had been erected which allowed the softly glowing red lights to shed their light to the upper reaches. Renaud snorted derisively, laying back on his rubble pile in disbelief. He looked as if the sky had written his name in fire, a mixture of fear and exaltation etched into every pore of his smiling face.
“I can see why you were so excited Mara. What I’m looking at was theorized but never built. Far too expensive. That a conduit of this size should exist at all, let alone work after four thousand years….” Renaud trailed off, observing tiny sparks strip themselves free of the aulind spikes to drift across the empty space. Renaud laughed giddily, taking a grip of his staff to steady himself as he rose to his feet. “That’s why they built it so far down. To reach a ley line.” Renaud marvelled, more to himself as Renata furiously scribbled context into her notebook. She barely acknowledged Renaud’s musing as she speculated as to the purpose of this grand chamber. Was it perhaps ceremonial?
Mara, more of a hands-on academic, began moving over to the doors. Through one she discovered what appeared to be the remains of a lab, heavily calcified by years of dripping water and shifting rock. An uncomfortable reminder of the sheer volume of stone above their heads. Her arcanometer’s gentle chiming turned to furious, deep tolls as she moved towards the second door. But she could not help herself, curiosity overpowering every instinct to avoid these harmful emanations. She would resist them, just as she’d done before.
As she opened the door she was faced with the impossible. What had once been another lab had since been crushed and twisted inwards with the floor perpetually frozen as it buckled upwards. Similarly, the ceiling seemed to be held in a state of collapse. At the centre of this nature-defying scene lay a jagged tear into the fabric of the world itself. A hollow gap of sheer blackness that distorted the world behind it at the edges of its ragged existence. It buffeted her with a degree of necrotic energy that even her suit found hard to cope with, arcanometer screeching one continuous tone in warning. Its caterwauling drew the attention of the party, who investigated the room only briefly before running with all haste in the opposite direction. Mara merely sat there; jovial mood evaporated by the gaze of this abyss. She shook in place, breathing coming in fitful bursts. Her heart strained against her sternum, limbs loosening as her vision slowly began to blacken. Solvi took no time in grabbing Mara, spiriting her away from the doorway.
“What in the gods’ name is that doing here?!” Solvi howled at Renata, who had busied herself applying protective charms to those Arthur had not already covered with his own. Renata shook her head, eyes wide with disbelief. None of this was supposed to be here. Not a conduit, nor labs, nor a tear into the skin of reality. Renaud sent his lights into the darkness of the rift, teeth gritted with a mixture of determination and fear. His fear was well founded.
“Danu preserve us, it’s Annun. The Underworld is open!” Renaud shouted over his shoulder, protective charm visibly wearing away from the corrosive projections of the portal. Regardless, he poked his head around the doorway once more to see what his spell had illuminated. He backed away, hand shaking as he held it to the mouth of his mask. Solvi briefly worried that the room was filling with toxic gases, but Renaud’s next utterance filled her with far more dread. “The Crook of Arawn. Someone is in Annun holding the Crook of Arawn.” Came a fearful whisper, audible to all those around. Mara found herself timidly turning her head to this news.
“Whatever magic is necessary to close that rift we must.” Solvi spoke with resolve, Arthur nodding his approval of this sentiment. Renaud rounded on her as if she’d said some grave insult, eyes practically bulging in disbelief.
“The staff of a god is within reach, and you would have me just leave it?” Renaud’s hands curled into fists, as if all thought of magic had left him and only pure violence remained in his mind. Solvi stood her ground, Mara held against her for reassurance as the mage recovered from the grip of her anxiety. Both Arthur and Renata squared up to the professor, Arthur with his hand on his mace.
“Nothing good can come of a tool of the gods in the hands of a mortal.” Arthur condemned Renaud with a curiously empathetic voice, knowing the temptations such power could bring. With the Crook one could resurrect the dead, cure disease and stay pestilence. But history had shown that the Crook could also bring tides of undead to bear. It could extend the life of its user to preternatural lengths. Renaud knew these things too, Renata was sure. She shook her head in disgust, that her former lover could be drawn to such things. “Leaving aside that Annun is so saturated with necrotic energy that you’ll die before you reach it, it’s better left in the land of its master.” Arthur tried to speak in a conciliatory tone, yet it seemed to make Renaud bristle even more.
“Do you think me so infirm, boy?” Renaud spat. His face had twisted away from its congenial smug grin to a frown of slighted rage. “I shall not enter Annun and retrieve the staff. We shall allow the necromancer to do it.” Came the addendum, setting a spark to the powder keg and forcing all to their feet. Incoherent protests and anger flew across one another and collided in a kaleidoscope of pent-up fury that had been simmering unchecked for days. Eventually, Solvi found herself on her feet with her hands gripping Renaud’s lapels. An escalation that sent a dangerous flash of malice through the older elf’s eyes.
“You think my people lay claim to things we don’t have right to? You lay claim to her achievements! You lay claim to her ingenuity! And now you lay claim to her very autonomy? I spit on your judgement, Gaius!” Solvi bellowed at the man’s face, fist raising as she did so. Renaud’s hand rose in kind, sparking with electrical energies conjured from thin air. Renata, ever the level-headed one of the party suddenly noticed something the others hadn’t. Their rage had quite literally blinded them.
“Where’s Mara?” She asked, prompting those assembled to look about. Solvi glanced at the rock she’d left the poor panicking girl on only to see empty gravel and slabs. Renata and she shared a look before Solvi broke into a run, pelting towards the room that held the tear. Fear gripped her heart, hysterical gasps tormenting her as her armour seemed to tighten against her heaving chest. All that dropped away when she flew into the chamber to see Mara’s suit flapping against the gentle breeze the tear was making with its pull.
Desperately, Solvi called out to her companion. It was fruitless. Mara’s masked face merely turned to look over her shoulder. The black mist Solvi had been noticing these past few days streamed from her eyes. The black mist that appeared so rarely before now governed the mind of her closest. Solvi felt tears burn the edges of her eyes, pleas leaving her lips half-formed. Mara, if she felt anything, could not show it as she walked through the tear. Solvi felt hands tearing at her, Arthur’s voice shouting her down. She strained against them, desperate to save Mara from herself. In the end, Renaud’s insulting voice called out with a spell and sent the orsan woman flying. She landed, defeated and hopeless, at the mage’s feet. This mage who’d goaded his sana to her demise. This mage who would know his own, soon enough.
