The Companions of Tartiël (45 page)

Caineye scowled at the thought of their enemies.
What do we do?

Kaiyr squatted down and began inspecting the stone’s base, as well as the slot into which the door would roll, were they to open it. He blew away some of the dust and peered into the crack.
I suspect that the two of us might be able to open this door with little effort. But come, let us listen first and determine our course of action afterward.

Caineye nodded, and both of them leaned slightly against the door, rolling it less than an inch to the side, just enough for them to peer through the tiniest of cracks and hear more clearly what transpired within.

*

“No, really,” Wild protested as he was led from his office and down the hall. The fact that one cleric led him and one trailed behind told him all he needed to know: something was up. “I’d feel like an intruder, witnessing such a personal-sounding ritual. If you’d prefer, I could spend the evening away from the temple and let you perform it in privacy.”

“Oh, no,” said the leading cleric, “we insist. You said you have come from afar, Father Wild. This ceremony is one we traditionally hold only here.”

“Strange,” Wild said, “when I was younger, I never heard of this ceremony. What’s it for, again?” Despite the danger into which he knew he was directly walking, Wild burned with curiosity. He could also see that this “priest” was getting a little fed up with the halfling’s questioning.

“Hush, now, Father Wild. We draw close to the sanctuary.”

Smirking inwardly, Wild quieted down and kept his snarky remarks to himself.

The halfling soon found himself just inside the double doors leading from the temple’s narthex to the sanctuary. The flickering light of several torches around the edges of the room did little to illuminate the area where all the clergy had been herded.

Most of the brethren here were rather young, but they were wise enough to sense a dark pressure in the air about them, and tension could be felt as though it were a tangible thing. Those not sitting in roughly the center of the floor were the older clerics, including Father Coëty, who stood at the door. The way the man stood was less indicative of a priest welcoming followers into his sanctuary than of guarding against escape.

“Ah,” Wild said, smiling up at Coëty as a pair of hands gently but firmly pushed him onto his rear end with the rest of the younger clergy. “How generous of you to share your ritual with me. As I was telling the brethren who led me here, I am not familiar with such a ceremony. Perhaps you would care to enlighten me?”

Father Coëty did not respond, and one of the other clergy members approached the leader and leaned forward, giving a whispered message. The head priest nodded and moved to the doors, helping three others pull them closed.

“What’s going on here?” asked one of the men on the floor next to Wild. “This doesn’t sound like any ceremony I’ve ever read about in the Warden’s teachings.”

Wild pulled out his favorite green gem, the one he had gotten from Sayel’s body, and stared into its glittering facets. “I don’t know, but I’m terribly excited to find out,” the halfling said as the double doors slammed closed. He quieted down as Coëty began to speak.

“I welcome you brethren into our sanctuary. I realize that this ceremony was announced suddenly, but it was decided by our diocese that we were to initiate all of you to the ways of a true follower of Alduros Hol. The Warden preaches that nature shall be as it is wont, and with that sentiment comes the survival of the fittest. Tonight, all of you shall be made ‘the fittest,’ and you shall continue our work here in a few days’ time.”

Wild largely ignored Coëty, suddenly finding himself absorbed in the sparkling light of Sayel’s gem. The emerald occasionally seemed to whisper of its secrets to the halfling, usually when he was paying it no attention, and much of what he had gleaned of the gem’s properties was fragmented. But tonight, the pull was stronger, and his ears rang with eldritch winds carrying words spoken long ago.

What is your will?

Wild started, jerking upright and giving Coëty reason to pause. “Is something the matter, Father Wild? We were just about to begin.”

Shaking his head, Wild quickly palmed his treasure. “Uh, nothing. I was just falling asleep, is all.”

The head priest scowled and twitched his head toward the halfling, and two of the initiated clergy took Wild under the arms and hoisted him into the air, carrying him over to Father Coëty. “Well, I suppose you wouldn’t mind being the first of the initiated, then. Perhaps it will better catch your attention.”

What is your will?

Wild flinched, and Coëty must have thought himself the cause, for he let out a barking laugh that turned into a long, low howl. A tearing sound followed, as of flesh being rent asunder, and Coëty and all his followers, also howling, writhed momentarily as silvery fur sprouted all over their bodies. Faces elongated into canine muzzles, and claws jutted out in place of fingernails. In a matter of seconds, ten werewolves stood around the herd of helpless, innocent clergy members, who cried out in terror and huddled together in ineffectual defense.

“It is time,” Coëty growled, his words slurred by his long muzzle. “The first moon has risen. Soon, you will all realize the power to be had.” He reared back his head, baring his fangs as he prepared to bite down on Wild’s shoulder.

WHAT IS YOUR WILL?

The whispered words whirled through the halfling’s mind into a crescendo, and he knew it would be his last chance to answer its call. Time slowed for him as he saw his approaching doom. Hurriedly, he shook Sayel’s emerald from his sleeve and into his palm. The brightest of the lights glowing within the gem flared up higher, stunning the werewolves so much that the two holding Wild dropped him. Scrambling to his feet, Wild held the gem high over his head. “My will? I wish all evil power here be dispelled!” Sayel’s gem burned in his hand, but he dared not let go as coruscating rays lanced from the gem, stabbing in all directions. All of the werewolves found themselves struck by these beams, and as one, they fell to the floor, writhing in excruciating pain.

Mesmerized, Wild and the terrified innocents looked on as the shining gem’s rays stripped away the werewolves’ hair, ears, muzzles, fangs, and claws. Power swirled around Wild in a tempest, drawing the lycanthropy from these men and utterly destroying the magical disease.

At last, the light faded, leaving the ten men on the ground exhausted and drained of their supernatural powers.

Your will be done.

Wild lowered his arm, his hand aching from the intense heat of Sayel’s gem. The bright flare that had graced the stone twinkled once then went out, leaving the emerald looking lop-sided, as though the gemcutter had accidentally shaved off too much of one corner.

Finally, Coëty regained enough strength to rise and point a finger at Wild. “K-kill him!” he cried, “Kill him for disobeying the master! Kill them all!” He swept his arm over toward the clergy in the center of the room.

Wild, sighing, tucked away his gem and tossed a dagger into the air. Catching it, he spun and buried it in the chest of one of the rising ex-werewolves.

From out the shadows near the deeper recesses of the desecrated sanctuary, Kaiyr and Caineye arrived. “Werewolves again?” Caineye shouted to Wild, conjuring a handful of flames and throwing them at available targets as he closed the distance between himself and his halfling companion.

“Not anymore!” Wild said with a grin as he ripped his dagger out of the dead “priest” and rolled forward to dodge the swing of a club to which he hadn’t even been paying attention.

Kaiyr swept into the room behind Caineye as the stone door rolled back into place. The ex-werewolves were still getting up, but some of them had already found their feet and had drawn their weapons. The elven blademaster hit them like a meteor crashing to earth. The first false clergyman could not withstand Kaiyr’s onslaught for more than a few seconds, and he dropped like a stone, his chest, stomach, and neck slashed open.

Caineye felled another of their foes with a pair of
splinterbolts
, both the druid and the blademaster focusing on the enemies nearest the unarmed innocents. Wild danced around Coëty and two of his cronies, laughing as he alternately stabbed at all three of them.

The halfling’s glee was short-lived, however, when Coëty stepped back and, revealing his true nature as an arcane spellcaster, pointed at Wild and unleashed a spell from his fingertips. “Damn,” Caineye muttered, recognizing the spell both as Coëty cast it, as well as when Wild suddenly shrank down and turned into a housecat.

Wild, shocked by the sudden change, arched his back and hissed at Coëty, glaring at the grinning “priest” through angry, green eyes.

Kaiyr kept up the assault, focusing on defending the innocent clerics. The number of enemies dwindled from nearly a score down to three in the span of less than a minute, many of Coëty’s followers unprepared to face foes without their supernatural disease to turn them into werewolves. He and Caineye neither offered nor accepted surrender, and their foes did likewise, until none was left. Coëty lay on the floor, bleeding from a dozen wounds inflicted by Kaiyr’s soulblade and Caineye’s spells. Neither of the standing combatants was much the worse for wear except, perhaps, for Wild, who sauntered over to Kaiyr and rubbed against the blademaster’s leg.

*

“Day-umn,” Dingo said, staring at the carnage on the battle grid. He had drawn red
X
s in each square containing a downed cleric. “You guys cleaned
up
,” he said, leaning forward to emphasize just how well we had fought and rolled. I don’t think I rolled below a 13 in that fight, and the same went for Xavier, though Matt, having rolled a 4 on his Will save against Coëty’s
baleful polymorph
spell, was not as lucky.

“Hell yeah,” I said, looking at my character sheet. Kaiyr, standing at about 25 hit points out of about 58, was looking pretty battered, though a loss of hit points does not have any impact in-game until they are reduced to or below zero. “And I’m really getting a lot of mileage out of that Deadly Defense feat I took when we hit level six.”

Dingo nodded, asking, “What’s that do again?”

“It’s the one that lets me deal extra damage when I fight defensively or use Combat Expertise. By taking a minus two penalty on attacks for plus two dodge to AC through Combat Expertise, I get an extra one-dee-six damage if I hit,” I explained. “The way I see it, it’s better than Power Attack, because instead of a one-for-one damage increase over attack decrease, I’m getting an average of three point five extra damage
and
plus two to AC. It’s a better than even trade.”

“Cool deal.
Complete Scoundrel
, right?”

I nodded. “Anyway, about what’s going on in the game, I turn to the innocent ones and activate my
amulet of detect evil
. Do I sense any evil presences among them or elsewhere in the room?”

The Dungeon Master shook his head. “Nope, the room’s clean. All the clerics involved in the werewolf stuff are dead, and none of the innocent ones are evil.”

I put on my Kaiyr face and voice. “
Are all of you well?
I ask. I release my soulblade and move closer to them. Are any of them wounded? I know a couple of them are dead, but…”

*

One of the gathered clerics, a human, stood and stepped forward. “I have tended to those who were wounded but not killed,” said the man. “Thank you, Blademaster Kaiyr, Caineye, and Wild.”

Wild mewed with a mixture of feline gratitude and annoyance at his current state of being.

Kaiyr frowned. “How do you know our names already?”

“We met him on board the
Flaring Nebula
,” Caineye responded for the cleric. “It was during our… misadventures. I distinctly recall interrogating him to make sure he wasn’t one of
them
.” His eyes snapped to Coëty’s corpse meaningfully. “Eledath, wasn’t it?”

Eledath bowed. “Yes. I am honored you remembered me, Caineye. And I forgive your lapse of memory, Blademaster. I remember you were having a difficult time on board that airship.”

We are
so
not riding on an airship ever again
, Kaiyr heard Caineye’s voice in his mind.

Again, I can offer no arguments.
The elf and the human druid exchanged wry glances.

Wild hopped up onto Kaiyr’s shoulder, using his new claws to climb up the blademaster’s robes. Kaiyr glanced at the halfling-cat and then at Eledath. “Father Eledath, might you or any of your wards be able to dispel this effect?”

It was done without much further ado; one spell and flare of white light later, and Wild once more stood on two feet before them all, adjusting his fine leather vest and counting his rings to make sure he hadn’t lost any in the transmogrification. The group was rather surprised to find that some of the “supplicants” to the dark ritual were none other than the few remaining elves from Arvanos’s temple, having apparently been magically
dominated
into joining the “ritual” that would have ended with their transformation into werewolves.

“I agree with Master Kaiyr,” Wild said as the trio held a brief, whispered conversation after having confirmed that there were no other would-be werewolves nor evil creatures within the remainder of the temple. He flipped a dagger from hand to hand as he spoke. “These people may need more aid. We also can’t pass up the opportunity to form some kind of bastion, you know, one temple which we
know
has no connection to Sayel and whatever else has been going on.”

Caineye nodded, thumbing his chin. “Something tells me that this won’t be the last of it, either. There are other temples dedicated to Alduros Hol, some of them barely miles away. Should we head back to the inn, gather our things, and then return here? I see no problem with that plan.”

“It is settled,” Kaiyr said to them both. “Let us retrieve Lady Solaria and Vinto and return so that we may fortify this temple. If we can hold it against whatever tide is to come, we may yet see an end to this.”