ord arel's ile

The following morning Trimus and the others returned to the Town Hall and asked for Councillor Fren. After a few minutes the young councillor appeared and indicated that they should follow into a small office off of the main corridor.
"Sit down gentlemen. It appears that you were successful in your quest" He nodded to the blood stained sack slumped slimly in the corner of the room.
"Yes, yes it was." said Aril proudly.
"Good. Here is your reward and if I can be of any help to in the future just ask for me." The councillor replied placing a pouch of coins on the desk.
"The is something else" said Trimus leaning forward in his chair pulling the kobold's map from a pocket in his shirt. "We found this in their lair. Can you tell us anything about it."
"Hmm. Possibly" replied Fren cautiously as he examined the map. "If you would leave me an address where I can contact you I will pass on any information I find."
"One more thing, councillor" interjected Aril as Fren started to stand up, "My brother passed through here with two friends about a month ago. Have you any information regarding them?"
"Names?"
"Fedrin D'Tai, Garrick and Suraskin."
The counsellor consulted a few scrolls which he had taken from a large scroll case behind his desk before he shook his head.
"There is no record of them leaving the islands so I can only assume that they are still here. I'm sorry but that's all I know."

The rest of the day passed quietly in the warm tropical sun. Grabthroat spent some of his share of the reward on some new clothes to replace those encrusted with blood and now unbearable. Darkhawk wandered round the markets examining various weapon stalls while finding nothing that really appealed to him. Aril, despondent and weary spent the day staring into a tankard, making circles with dribbles of beer on the tables of the Brightwater Inn. Even the attentions of Karel the barmaid could draw him out of his misery. That evening they dined with Rintrah, Aril still downhearted, just played with his food, eventually letting Grabthroat finish off his fish stew and parsley dumplings.
"Still no luck with your search, Aril?" asked the mage in his rich deep voice.
"No. Absolutely nothing. No leads what so ever."
"Have you tried the poor quarter - that's usually a good source of information?"
"Yes" replied Trimus "No one would admit to knowing anything."
"You could..." began Rintrah "No, that's too unlikely"
"What?" demanded Aril staring intently at Rintrah.
"Well, you could contact the dead - no don't get me wrong I don't think he's dead but they may have some knowledge of him."
"We'll go now" said Aril rising unsteadily to his feet.
"No Aril" said Ako kindly, resting his hand on Aril's shoulder and guiding him back into his seat. "You're in no fit state to go anywhere, let alone a temple. We'll go tomorrow once you've had some rest."

Aril did not sleep well that night. The strong drinks, the worry over his brother and a heavy rainstorm clattering on the roof of his room all combined to give him a restless night. As he came down for breakfast the he saw the others sitting at their usual table chatting to Otig.
"Does it always rain that hard?" asked Trimus.
"At this time of year its quite common, but in a few weeks the dry season will start and we will have no more for 3 moons or more" replied Otig. "A rough night Mr. D'Tai? Full breakfast? Smoked fish? Ham, cheese?"
"No thank you" groaned Aril rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and smiling weakly, "Just a mug of warm milk, I'm feeling a little tender this morning."

As Ako approached the People's Temple he could see people milling around outside and some entering through the large doors that had been shut on his last visit. A few dark skinned Makai priests in their pale blue robes helped elderly and infirm pilgrims up the last few stairs into the main body of the temple. The previous nights rain had given the stone of the temple a darker hue and a brighter shine making it approach the palace in terms of beauty if not in size or grander.
"Are you sure they'll do it?" asked Trimus "It seems such an awful thing to do."
"If it's for a good cause, and we offer enough money I'm sure they will." replied Ako confidently.
"I'm torn two ways" worried Aril "I want to hear news of Fedrin but not if it means that he's dead. But what other news could they give us?"
As they entered the temple they caught the eye of one of the priests who then approached them, touched his forehead in greeting and asked how he could be of assistance.

"We have a very grave request to make of you brother" said Ako in a sombre voice. "Our friend Aril D'Tai has lost his brother. We would like to know if he is dead or captured or just stuck somewhere. Can you help."
"No that is beyond my abilities." the young Makai replied. "But our leader Father Jerome may be able to assist you. If you would take a seat and contemplate the mysteries awhile I will see if he is available for an audience.
The friends sat in silence for sometime, half listening to the fragments of conversation and prayers that were going on around them. Grabthroat meanwhile admired the stonework of the finely carved pillars that seemed to grow from the floor then soar to the ceilings where they spread like the boughs of a strange tree to support the wooden roof painted in such a way to mimic the night sky of Ierendi.
The shadows of the pillars had shifted some way by the time the young cleric reappeared.
"Father Jerome will see you now" he said, "Will you follow me."
He led them through a small side door in the south wall of the temple into an enclosed garden which was rich with the scent of herbs and flowers. Trimus was loath to leave to rush through without studying these further as some were very rare and important ingredients for potions and unctions. On the far side of the garden they entered a smaller and far older building. Sitting on a bench just inside was a middle aged cleric, with russet hair just greying at the temples. He stood as they approached and greeted them with a touch to his forehead.
"I am Father Jerome. Your need must be very grave to request such a task form us."
"Yes. I must know if my brother Fedrin D'Tai is still alive. I must." pleaded Aril.
"Be at peace my son. Now sit and let your mind go blank except for images of your brother." As he finished speaking Jerome seemed to go into a trance. He started to sway slightly then went rigid. A whisper like the wind through an autumn forest filled the small chapel.
"I wish to speak with Fedrin D'Tai, is Fedrin D'Tai amongst you?" Jerome's voice was unnaturally deep and resonant.
The whispers grew louder, now they were like a beach in a winter storm. A voice detached itself from the whispers. An unpleasant voice like dark, damp things. "No he is not with us - let us rest - you should not disturb us."
"Does anyone know of him, are any of his friends here?"
The whispers started again, snatches of words, whispered names, fragments of places and times long forgotten except by the dead.
"Yes I know of him" a warmer, cleaner voice answered, "I met him in the forest north of Ierendi. He was working for a Lord Keves. May I rest now - I'm very tired." The voice died away and Jerome started to sway. The young cleric caught him as he was about to topple over. After a goblet of rich red Karameikian wine Jerome turned to Aril.
"That's all I can do for you my son. The dead do not like to be disturbed. It reminds them of life, something they all miss and derisively much. It disturbs me as well if truth be told. I too need to rest now, Brother Tuanu will show you out. If I may request a donation for my time and trouble ... I hope you won't think me rude. The poor are so needy and the sick....'. The last sentence was said in a thin sigh as he slowly rose to his feet.

After leaving the temple Aril was in much brighter spirits despite having made a donation that left him with a much lighter purse.
"Well all we have to do now is find this Lord Keves and we've found Fedrin" he said rubbing his hands together. "Let's go back to the inn for lunch and ask Otig about this Lord Keves."

"Lord Keves? Nasty piece of work he is. Rich, influential in local politics but a pompous coward. Always manages to get someone else to do his dirty work for him. I'd stay well clear of him if I were you" said the barman polishing a tankard. "But don't tell him I told you or he'd have me out of business quicker than you could say it."
"Where does he live?" asked Trimus.
"Weren't you listening? I said stay away. Pah! Young folk today. He has a manor in the forest. It's clearly marked from the main road. But he won't see you. He never sees anyone ."

Otig was right. Lord Keves' manor was an imposing place. Made from imported stone and set on a small knoll it loomed out of the forest like the stub of old bone. Darkhawk rapped on the carved oak door with the hilt of his dagger, the door had no knocker. The door opened slightly to reveal a young man in fine clothes with a rapier on his hip.
"Yes. Who are you? What is the purpose of your visit?"
"We have come to see Lord Keves" said Darkhawk.
"Do you have an appointment? A letter of introduction." sneered the young man.
"No. We didn't know we'd need one." said Aril.
"Very well." the young man said slowly noticing Aril for the first time and hesitating. "Two of you may come in, the rest of you can wait here. Try not to make the place look untidy." Aril and Ako stepped into the manor. The stone walls were lined with fine tapestries and oak panelling but neither seemed to brighten the oppressive atmosphere. Keves may be rich but he had depressing tastes.
"Wait in here. I will see if my master wishes to see you." They were shown into a small windowless room with no chairs and little in the way of decoration. They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
"I don't think much of him" whispered Ako.
"If he is anything to go by Otig was right about his master" replied Aril walking over to the door and trying the latch. "Locked. Trusting soul as well." A few minutes later the door opened and the young man sauntered in to the room a look of triumph on his face. "You must leave now. My master is very busy and does not want to see you today, tomorrow or ever. Good day to you." With that Ako and Aril were ushered out of the room and out of the manor too stunned by the strange turn of events to say anything in protest.

"Well we seem to have reached a dead end again." said Grabthroat as they passed through the West gate of the city.
"What can we do? We have nothing to lead us any further. I would go home but I gave most of my savings to the priest at the temple." groaned Aril kicking out a scrawny chicken that had flapped into the road chased by a pair of half naked children.
"Something will turn up. " said Trimus cheerfully. "Let's go back to the castle. There may be some information there or another adventure for us and who knows where that might lead."
At the castle there were a number of posters advertising for 'Brave Adventurers' being studied by a mixed group of locals and mainlanders.
"How about that one?" asked Darkhawk pointing to a curling sheet of parchment.
"Hunt and kill a sea dragon! I don't think so." said Ako "That one there about reclaiming an old family seat sounds more our line."
"Yes. That's the one." decided Trimus pulling the parchment from the wall. "Lets go and see our friend in the council to sign up."

It was about an hour before noon when they arrived at the town house of Lord Varil. Councillor Fren had described him as 'a fading fighter' recently come into some money and wanting to return to his family seat south of the city. A young servant girl opened the door to the house which stood in a street that led of the main market square in Ierendi city. They were ushered into a small drawing room where standing with his back to them was a large man leaning on a sturdy cane. As he turned to face the party his face Lit up and he limped over, his hand stretched out in greeting.
"Fedrin! How good it is to see you!" he cried, but then his face clouded over a he got closer. "I'm sorry, I must be mistaken. I thought you were someone else. Please be seated and ignore the ramblings of a tired old man." He slumped into a nearby chair seeming to shrink into himself.
"You called me Fedrin. What do you know of my brother?" stammered Aril barely able to contain his excitement.
"Well if you and your brother are as alike as peas in a pod then yes I knew your brother - but only too briefly." replied Lord Varel "He saved my life from a bunch of ruffians in the docks a few weeks ago. A very capable swordsman I must say. I asked him if he'd like to join my personal staff, but he said he and his friend were only here on a holiday. If you were even half as good with a blade as he I'd hire you on the spot as well. Anyway how is your brother?"
"He's disappeared, sir. I've come to the islands to find him. We only came to see you because you need some help to reclaim your old family seat and we need gold to fund our search." replied Aril.
"If that's the case, then yes, I accept your offer. It's an old rambling place, rather over run by the wilds now. It was destroyed by a mysterious fire over a century ago which claimed the life of my great-grandfather and no-one has lived there since. Obviously anything you find I will be interested in, and you will be rewarded well for your efforts."
"Where is this place?" asked Aril.
"About an hours walk south of the city." replied the old lord.

"That must be it." said Trimus pointing to a derelict and ivy covered building squatting amongst the trees at the end of an overgrown gravel drive. Many of the stones, especially those around the window appeared blackened and cracked.
"Let's go in - but be careful there may be wild beasts inside." warned Aril.
The once sumptuous entrance hall had collapsed in on itself during the fire. The remains of gilded roof bosses lay scattered amongst the beams and lower portion of a wide stair that once led upwards to the east. An empty archway leads to a dark, still roofed closet. Darkhawk examined this quickly, returning to the group shaking his head.
"Nothing in there" he said "Just an old closet."
Crossing the hallway they entered a square room, roofless now and half filled with blackened masonry. Beneath the two window openings were pools of multicoloured melted glass, runnels of which could be seen frozen onto the wall.
"What's this!" cried Ako. He pulled something from the rubble. "It's a sword. Badly bent but beautifully made." He wrapped it carefully in a spare sack and packed into his backpack. They could find nothing else in this room so they returned to the main hall. Darkhawk climbed the remains of the curving stair but had to turn back.
"No way up there, the roof has caved in completely." he said on his return.
Crossing the floor of the stairs the party entered another square, but this time windowless room. The floor again covered with stone from the walls and ceiling. Brass nails projected like skeletal fingers from walls where they may have served to hold up bookcases or tapestries. Grabthroat stooped to pick through a pile of rubble but no sooner had he started then he was bundled over by Ako and Darkhawk who were fleeing the room, their faces a mask of terror, while Trimus, Aril and the dwarf gazed stupefied first at their vanishing friends then at the sight that had so shocked them.
The rubble of the room faded away to be replaced by walls covered with rich tapestries and sturdy shelves stacked with books and scrolls. In the centre of the room a large wooden desk seated at which was an old man, bearing a striking resemblance to Lord Varel. The figure is works on a piece of manuscript by candle light. He reaches carelessly for another scroll, one of many on the desk and on the floor surrounding his chair. He catches the candle with his sleeve and dashes it to the floor. The fire takes hold quickly on the dry brittle parchment. The man tries to beat out the flames but his robe ignites. He screams louder and louder then the vision ended. All that was left was a plaintive voice calling "Help me! Help my family...."
Aril, Trimus and Grabthroat looked at each other.
"Well I think we've solved the mystery." said Trimus quietly. "A tragic accident, all those scrolls..." he added wistfully. Aril bent down. "I'm sure this wasn't there before the vision. Ow! It's hot!" He carefully picked up a small plain silver ring from amongst the stones on the floor.
"Is .... Is it over", said a quiet voice from outside the door and Ako put his head into the room.
"Yes" smiled Aril "I think we will only see that vision once. Where have you been?"
"We hid in the closet", replied Darkhawk humbly. "I couldn't help it, I just had to run."
"We understand" smiled Grabthroat in a way that suggested he didn't.
The next room that they searched had two large picture windows that overlooked what was once a well manicured garden but was now a jungle of vines and mature trees, the odd piece of statuary peeking out from amongst the greenery. Searching the room Aril stumbled across some more blackened bones and the remains of a large blue and white vase. Both were carefully loaded into sacks and place carefully beside the door to be returned to Lord Varel.

"This is hard work" muttered Trimus as the sat amidst the rubble eating some bread and cheese washed down with a sweet yet refreshing fruit drink.
"Not very rewarding either" replied Aril. "I wish we hadn't got involved. I don't believe Varel will help us find my brother in any case. Pass us an apple Ako."
"Still we are doing good work. "said Ako around a mouthful of bread "And there are still at least two rooms down that corridor we haven't looked at yet."
"I was going to say something about that" said Darkhawk "I'm sure I can smell something rotten down there."
"You're not going to run off again are you?" questioned Grabthroat in a snide way as he reached for a jug.
"Just lay off me shorty" said the large fighter grabbing the dwarf's wrist tightly. "I couldn't help it. There must be something you don't like."
"Yeah! Spiders - too many legs - ugh! Sorry Darkhawk but my side's playing up from all the lifting, I didn't mean to get at you."
"Accepted. Let's get on, I don't want to spend a night out here, the place gives me the creeps."

As Aril lead the party down the corridor, the smell of rotting flesh grew stronger till as they approached the doorway even the strong stomached dwarf was on the point of gagging.
"What do you think is in there?" asked Trimus, his mouth and nose hidden behind a fine handkerchief.
"Some dead animal brought in by a wolf or a bear or something." replied Ako.
"Yeah! Or something. How many bears do you know who close doors behind them." growled Grabthroat.
"When you have quite finished, we'll go in and find out" said Aril an edge of tension in his voice.

Grabthroat and Darkhawk opened the door carefully and slid into the room, trying to merge into the shadows cast by the walls and the remains of the roof, shadows that were especially dark and forbidding in the south-west corner of the room. Darkhawk waved the others in to follow him and relaxed - a dangerous mistake.
"Watch out!" cried the Dwarf as two pale skinned humanoids emerged from the deepest area of shadow. "Ghouls. That's what your or something was Ako.". Drawing Kagyar from his pack he stepped forward to confront the creatures with their lank greyish-yellow hair and deathly pale skin.
"Don't let them scratch you Grabthroat" warned Ako reaching for his Holy Symbol. "You don't know where they've been! No seriously, they can paralyse you."
Ako's warning was unnecessary. The Dwarf swung his axe with vigour and combined with Darkhawk's and Aril's blades the evil creatures stood no chance being cut down before they could get within arms reach. Ako said a silent prayer of thanks while Trimus carefully searched the corner from which the ghouls had emerged returning a few moments later.
"There's a lidless chest full of old coins and a set of silver cutlery" he said fastidiously washing his hands with some water from his pouch.
"There are several thousand of them" Aril said from the shadows, as he ran his hands through the shiny metal discs. "Old ones as well, I don't recognise the name or the head on them. The cutlery has Varel's crest on it. He would like to have this back I think."
"Nicely made too" Grabthroat cast an appraising eye over the knives and spoons. "Let's leave this here while we search the rest of this place". As a final touch he and Darkhawk arranged the already decaying remains of the ghouls over the pile of treasure to deter any casual investigation.

As he stood back and admired his handiwork Grabthroat noticed another door leading from the room. "There's another door here. It must lead back into the corridor." He pulled at it but the solid wooden door didn't move. Trying again the door suddenly flew open covering everyone with a thick layer of dust and ash.

"Ugh!" exclaimed Grabthroat. "It was gummed up with webs, thick sturdy ones at that. I wouldn't like to meet the spider who spun those."
"Grabthroat." said Trimus quietly his hand on the dwarf's shoulder "I think we just have!"
All turned to where Trimus was staring. There hunched in the shadows was a spider. As it returned their gaze with it's eight glistening, lidless eyes it bobbed up and down, preparing to strike.

"Aarrgh!" gurgled Grabthroat and he hurled himself, not at the huge arachnid but sideways through the door across the corridor and into the room opposite. Aril and Darkhawk stepped forward, swords in hand towards the spider. It pounced, surprising Aril who was knocked flat. Still he managed to get his blade jammed into the beast just behind its mouth while Darkhawk savagely severed four of its limbs. Aril twisted his blade and black sticky blood flowed over his hands and chest. Ako pushed his way through and delivered a sickening blow to the beast's head. A few spasms later the spider was dead and Aril dragged himself from beneath it.
"I'll kill him. Where is the little wretch?" cursed Aril wiping his sword on the beast's coarse pelt. "How are we going to get anywhere if you lot scarper at the first sign of trouble?"
"I'm sorry Aril., I couldn't help it. I told you I didn't like spiders, and that one was a big one." Grabthroat had emerged from his refuge looking very pale, not all of which being due to the dust that coated his clothes, hair and beard.
"Ok. Ok. Let's get on. What did you find. Or were you just hiding?"
"It looks like the old kitchen" replied the dwarf ignoring the sarcasm in Aril's voice "But there is a hole in the floor where a trapdoor has rotted away. Probably leads down to the cellar."
"Any other exits?"
"Yes a doorway into a scullery and a door into the garden. Neither room has anything interesting though. Just rubble and ash."
"Let's try down the cellar." Aril walked to the broken trapdoor and shown his torch made from a broken length of timber down into the cellar. "Ugh. Smells bad - I hope it's not more of those ghouls." The flickering light revealed a square chamber floored with large roughly hewn limestone flags. Apart from a fine drift of ash no fire damage could be seen. A set of copper banded barrels stood against the far wall. Trimus and Aril took a few steps forward to gain a better view of the rooms contents. Trimus lent forward and pointed at some objects scattered on the floor.
"What do you think ..... they're bones, fresh bones. How did they ...." Trimus was cut off by a cry form Aril as slimy tentacle snaked down from the ceiling followed by several others. Aril lept out of the way, drawing his sword but in doing so dropped his sword which stuttered but stayed alight casting dancing shadows around the celler. Trimus dropped to one knee and summoned a magic missile which hit the hideous creature but this only seemed to anger it, tentacles snaked towards the young mage.
"It's got him!" cried Grabthroat swinging his axe as three slimy tentacles entwined themselves around Trimus and lifted him of his feetand dragged him helpless towards its huge maw. The swords of Darkhawk and Aril along with the hammer of Trimus struck the fiendish creature which wailed and fell from the ceiling with a sickening crunch, burying Trimus. It seemed to take ages to extract the battered body of the magic-user from beneath the beast's corpse.
"He's in a bad way." murmured Darkhawk, "Is there anything you can do, Ako?"
"No. There's nothing I can do. He's going to die. We're too far from the city and I don't have any potions. Aril, what can we do?"
"Search the room. There may be something here - but we have to be quick."
They searched the room, finding a few coins, a topaz ring and a large war-hammer amongst shreds of clothing. Then suddenly Ako cried out that he had found a potion. He took a cautious sip and his face broke into a relieved grin. "It's a healing potion, we're in luck." Sitting down next to the pale mage he lifted Trimus' head and poured the rich amber liquid down his throat being careful not to spill any. For a few moments nothing happened.
"We're too late." muttered Grabthroat hugging Trimus' staff to his chest. "He's going to die"
Then Trimus' eyes opened and he groaned. "What hit me? Where's my staff? Did we kill it?"
"Yes, we killed it" said Ako relaxing a little. "You're going to be fine, with a little rest."

Meanwhile Aril had been sitting on one of the barrells examining the warhammer he had found.
"Grabthroat, what do you make of this device?" he asked pointing at an engraved mark on the hammer's head, a circle set within a square. "Is it a smith's mark?"
"None that I recognize. It is certainly not Dwarven. Ako is it some kind of religious symbol?"
"Yes. If I'm not very much mistaken it is the symbol of the Brotherhood of the Long Road. Most of their followers come from Darokin I believe. Apart from that I don't know too much about them. Nice weapon though." he gave the hammer a few trial swings to test it's balance then nodded satisfied.

"What was it Darkhawk" asked Trimus weakly, sitting up with his back against a wall as the large fighter prodded the carcass of the tentacled creature.
"A decapus" he replied. "Been down here a while I guess looking at the amount of bones. You were lucky, those tentacles are very strong."
"I know" winced the mage "I can still feel where they gripped me."
"Are you able to walk Trimus?" asked Aril quietly.
"Yes I think so. I just hope we won't have to fight our way out"
"No. I don't think we'll have any more trouble" replied Aril with a smile.

Aril was right. The journey back to the small inn in Port Street was uneventful but slow. Trimus was put to bed with one of the innkeeper's best tonic wines and a warm stone wrapped in a soft cloth to prevent his muscles from tightening overmuch. Meanwhile in the tap room Aril sat alone, drinking himself into a deep but unrewarding sleep. His dreams filled with visions of his brother dead or worse in great unending pain.

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