Chapter Four: Exploring the Ruins at Night

When Turadyl had disappeared, Leeham asked Kris. “Do you think the Gentle One minded my suggestion? He seemed upset.” The Hin looked sad and ashamed.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry Leeham, he’ll get over it.” Replied Kris. “I think you might want to call him by his name though, from now on.” His words were distracted because he was watching Shayam pull a necklace of garlic and a mirror from his pack. The dark man put the necklace on and tucked the mirror into a convenient pocket. When he noticed that he was being watched he shrugged. “Trust me. I know from previous experience that they can be useful.” The thief twirled his two intricately carved daggers in his hands.

At that moment Turadyl reappeared. “The passage goes down about twenty feet then comes out behind a statue in a big room. I didn’t investigate, but nothing nasty seems to be waiting down there for us. I suggest we all go down now, and take the secret passage just in case.”

Cronwyn agreed and drew his rapier. “I’m behind you.” He had retrieved his torch from Malthus.

The cleric also spoke. “I will come down after the merchant.” The cleric shuttered his magical lantern a little so that the light would not be so obvious.

The party moved down the narrow passage, all of them feeling uncomfortable in the close quarters, except for Leeham. But then, the passage was a lot wider for him. Kris kept a close eye on the halfling.

Just like the elf said the passage bend around a full ninety degrees and down about ten feet. It ended in a door which Turadyl edged open again and slid through. As Kris followed, he found himself in room about fifteen by fifty feet. It was hard for even the savvy Karameikan to guess the exact dimensions though, because the light from his torch and the lantern were not enough to fully illuminate the walls. He could see though that they had emerged from an alcove that had a twin on the other side of the room. Both of the alcoves were home to a large golden coloured statue. It was a huge sphinx. The figures were transparent, as though made from some form of rough glass. The flickering torch light made their surface’s twinkle and dance.

Looking to his left, along the length of the room, two more giant sphinx could be seen guarding the spot where the main stairs came down from above. To his right, about forty feet away, was another statue. This one was on a raised dais and smaller than the rest. Some debris was scattered around its base. The room itself was still and lifeless, as though it had been untouched for many years. The air was warm and sour tasting. There was no sign of their prey.

Kris was quick to search around the stairs for any signs of recent disturbance in the dust. Unfortunately there was very little dirt in the room, even though there was no wind to clean it out. There was no sign of disturbance.

Turadyl made his way to the statue at the far end of the room surrounded by debris. He noticed that there was a small wooden door on his left, about two thirds of the way up the wall. But it was Malthus who noticed the pictures first. The cleric gasped a little.

All along both walls were colourful frescos, made of millions of small painted rocks from the desert. The pictures showed the process of a body being prepared for burial. Some of the steps were not pleasant, involving the removal of the brain and other organs in enterprising ways. But what was most interesting was that a lot of the scenes had been defaced. The stones had been chipped off, and it was impossible to tell what had been there before.

Cronwyn was enraptured by the work. He studied it carefully by torchlight, moving down the wall and trying to figure out the meaning of every scene. The damage frustrated him. “Someone has purposely defaced these! I can’t see who was being buried.”

Turadyl left him to it and carried on to the statue at the end of the room. This one was different from the rest. It was not made out of a transparent glass it was built of hard black granite. The debris that was around it was the same material that the sphinx were composed of. The elf picked a chunk of it up and recognised it. It was tree gum. The super hard resin that some giant trees excreted. As to what it was doing this far out in the desert, he had no idea. It appeared that someone had destroyed the original statue that was here and replaced it with their own. He studied it.

It was a tall figure of a man with a vulture’s head. Its face was proud and cruel looking. As to what the original statue had been, it was impossible to tell.

After about ten minutes the party had finished searching the entire room. Nothing else was found of interest, and only the wooden door was left. It was about six feet high, which meant Shayam would have to bend to get through it. It was held closed by a simple lath. The thief again checked the door and listened while the rest of the party remained silent. He did not find nor hear anything.

Cronwyn raised the latch and opened the door. As the door was slowly opened it revealed a room filled with many old chests, crumbling furniture, broken statues and stoppered urns. A thick layer of dust covered the floor and this room smelt even worse than the last one. Straight ahead was another door, which seemed to be the only exit.

Shayam quickly entered the room and looked for any signs of previous passage - even if without too much hope. He then walked directly to the other door and listened for noise. He again heard nothing.

"I heard nothing", Shayam said. "If you want to check these knick-knacks I'll guard this door though I'm afraid we'll only loose time".

Cronwyn nodded in agreement, although he was obviously looking at the collection of goods with a merchant's gleam in his eye. "You are right Shayam, but perhaps when we come back this way we might be able to take some of this back to the caravan?..."

With a smile of complicity Shayam answered Cronwyn "Of course! Don't worry, this is the kind of opportunity I do not usually loose. But later. Now we have to find that creature..." Shayam moved to the door at the far end of the room and searched for traps. None were found, so Cronwyn opened the door again with the rest of the party waiting.

Another room was revealed, similar in layout to the last. However it was much emptier, and was only occupied by two ornate sarcophagi laying horizontal on platforms that raised them off the ground by a foot. The sarcophagi themselves were breathtaking, unlike the previous containers encountered which were plain. These were ornately carved and mounted with beautiful gems that set Cronwyn's heart racing as he realised they would be worth thousands of gold pieces each. Unfortunately, carved around the base was a message that only Cronwyn could understand. It was a crude Sindhi script. “Do not disturb the peace of the high priest and priestess of He Who Keeps Us,” red the merchant. He looked downcast. “Why do they always have to do that? Why can’t they just put some gems somewhere without cursing them for a change?” Kris couldn’t help but laugh at this question.

Even with the warning, Cronwyn’s eyes were drawn to the sparkle of the gemstones as he moved into the room. "Just a few of these stones could make this whole journey into the desert profitable", he mumbled. Cronwyn raised a finger to scratch at the beard that was appearing on his bottom lip and paused for a second. The warnings around the base of the sarcophagi seemed clear enough, and he knows that this would be the place where traps are most likely. "I think we have to open these ones as well - just in case our thief is inside", he announced to the rest of the group.

Now at the back of the party, Turadyl did not have a clear view of the whole room. He could see enough, though, to see that the merchant's attention was distracted by the apparent easy wealth lying before them. "Hold on for a moment everyone," he said. "Shayam, would you care to have a look around - has anyone been here or tampered with these recently? Let's not forget that someone else has been in the other room and defaced the pictures on the walls; there's no reason to think that they or others wouldn't have entered here. It seems odd to me that such riches would have gone unmolested for so long without something to protect them."

Shayam approached the first sarcophagus and carefully examined it and its platform looking for any possible trap. As soon as he got within a few feet, it was as though a chill wind swept over him. His eyes were wide with fear as he asked the rest “What was that?”.

Cronwyn looked confused. “What was what?”

The thief’s teeth were now chattering when he replied. “It’s so cold over here I can hardly breathe! Can’t you feel it.”

Cronwyn looked impatient, he was only standing a few feet away and he had no idea what the man was talking about. Malthus however probably understood better. “It is a sign! Do not take one step closer to those coffins!”

Shayam was only too happy to comply. “If you want to search for traps, you are welcome, but count me out!”

Cronwyn was suddenly wary, and then defeated. “I could never carry them all the way across the desert anyway. I’ll need all my energy just to carry water. Lets go back to the previous room and search. It seems that our furry little friend has managed to hide from us somewhere.

The party retreated to the next room, the one that seemed to have been used as a storage pit of some kind. They spent the next half an hour sifting through the items, most of which turned out to be rubbish. Cronwyn did find something to distract him though. Several of the urns were intact, and contained scrolls inside. The writing on them was dry and spidery, but the Darokian though he could decipher them if given enough time. There was no sign of the flying thing that had stolen the map though.

Turadyl spoke up. “Perhaps we should check that statue more carefully, the one that looked like it had been used to replace an older one. Maybe it will tell us something. Did anyone get a good look at the creature that stole the map? Did it have a vulture's head?"

“I only caught a glimpse of it,” said Malthus. “It looked more small and furry than like a vulture. It was dark though.”

Cronwyn didn’t see any point in pondering over the question when the answer lay only a few yards away. He returned to the large room and walked to the large statue. He gave it a tap with his sword. It seemed to be solid enough. Turadyl also returned. But his senses picked up something no-one else had noticed yet. The faint smell of sulphur…

Putting his fingers to his lips, the elf slowly turned around. Behind him was a very large painting that had almost entirely been destroyed. Someone had used a blunt tool to scrap all the stones from the painting, except for a slight recess that had been harder to get at. Now that Turadyl looked at it, the patch of stones began to be an outline of a door behind the granite statue! He quickly drew everyone’s attention to it with silent hand signals and got close to the wall. He saw a narrow gap and tried to peer through. He found his eyeballs an inch away from someone else’s trying to peer out! A shrill shriek pierced the air and Turadyl leapt back. The eye disappeared from the other side of the crack, replaced by the sound like a monkey jabbering.

“That’s torn it!” cried Cronwyn out loud. He jumped to Turadyl’s side and tried to help the elf pry the door open with his fingers. There seemed to be some hidden catch, because the door couldn’t be opened. Meanwhile the sounds inside were replaced with a quick slap that silenced the screaming animal, then a harsh command followed by magical chanting was heard. “Quick!” screamed Turadyl, “We have to get this open before it finishes its spell.”

Cronwyn redoubled his efforts. Shayam and Malthus were also hurrying to help. Suddenly the merchant cried out in pain and fell back from the door. Blood was spurting from his fingers. “It bit me!” he cried.

“Out of the way,” bellowed Malthus. He swiftly placed his war hammer handle first into the crack and then began to wedge it open. The muscles his wiry arms grew taut as he huffed with the effort. The magical chanting stopped from inside, replaced again by the scream and clawing of some animal trying to get out. With a loud crack the door suddenly swung open, and Malthus fell flat on his back.

Inside was a smallish well lived in room, filled with sweet smelling incense that cleared away the sulphurous odour. Standing on the other side of a table was a chilling sight. A human sized creature with the body of a man and the head of a vulture, a Nagpa, had the map in hand and was shouting at a mirror standing in front of it. In the mirror itself, where the Nagpa’s reflection should have been, stood a man dressed in black, grotesque armour, his face hidden by a black veil. Panting just a few steps away from the party was a small ape like create, a Tabi. It was covered in fur and had leathery wings, it was the size of a cat and was foaming at the mouth, obviously working itself into a fury in its efforts to get to the party. The Nagpa knew they were coming. He stopped talking to the mirror and screamed to his creation, “Get them!”

Without hesitation, Turadyl shoved the door closed. “That should keep them for a second,” he said. “We need to…” Suddenly the door burst apart into a thousand splinters of wood, spraying dust into the eyes of the party and forcing Malthus back onto the floor which he had been getting up off. The ferocious Tabi bounded through, trying to leap on Malthus, but it was intercepted by Kris’ sword. It changed direction in mid air and soared of one foot at the archer’s neck. Kris caught a swing of its claws across his check. Its master is also busy inside. With a few quick words it flung its hand at the statue that had been guarding its hiding place. The great figure creaked off its dais and then moved slowly to attack.

Turadyl do not pause to stop the Tabi. He rushed straight into the room and rushed to engage the Nagpa. His intention was to stop it from casting anymore spells.

Malthus was frozen in place by the shattering of the door. Blood from the numerous small cuts on his face blurred his vision and he felt Turadyl sweep by him, rather than see him. He sprung into action. He called to Turadyl, "You take the vulture, I'll deal with the mirror!". Almost using Turadyl as a shield he followed the elf's lead and made it into the room. With a large swing with his full running momentum behind it, the cleric smashed the mirror. His hammer rebounded off as though it had struck marble and the mirror was not even scratched. However, the force of the blow did send it teetering on its stand, and it fell to the ground face down. Malthus didn’t manage to catch the look on the black clothed man’s face to see whether he was shocked or not.

Shayam hurled his daggers at the tabi. As he released the second, he left his hand outstretched and magically recalled the first. In the fracas Shayam hadn’t noticed that the statue behind him was moving. “Look out!” screamed Leeham in his shrill voice. The warning allowed Shayam to get an arm up and protect his body from the worst of the blow as the statue brought its giant fist down on him. He cried out in pain, and went down onto one knee. The statue moved to rain down the next blow – and was stuck! Leeham had chained his arms around the creature’s legs, and was now hanging on for dear life. The little halfling knew that if his strength gave out and the animation would be able to stomp him with its feet, and this would be his last battle. At least the statue’s large size and lack of flexibility meant that it was not able to bend over and use its arms to disentangle him.

Cronwyn had forgotten about the bite to his hand and was now helping Kris fend off the Tabi. It was small, and attacked viciously with its claws. However, it was overwhelmed by the attacks coming from two directions from the study swordsman. Kris was able to dispatch it with a well aimed lunge of his long-sword.

Inside the room Turadyl had reached the Nagpa. “Now you die,” he said brandishing his elvan long-sword. The face of the vulture looked down at him with a look that was scornful, as though it was laughing at him. Turadyl felt the weight in his hand suddenly lesson. He looked down at his weapon and saw that only the handle was left! The rest now lay on the floor as a pile of decayed rusting metal. Such was his surprise that he was caught with a blow from the creature’s staff. The loss of the weapon he had owned since childhood stunned him so much he could hardly fight back.

Thanks to Leeham, Shayam had managed to regain his feet and was firing his magical daggers it the statue so fast that they appeared to be in two places at once. Although little splinters of granite come of every time he hit it, he knew he was hardly doing any damage. “Hold it tight!” he yelled at Leeham. Then, taking advantage of it being distracted by the little Hin, he rushed the creature at full speed, tackling it in the middle of its chest. With its feet firmly bound, the statue had no way of balancing itself and keeled over backwards. It split into several pieces as it hit the floor, each of which lay lifeless.

Turadyl dodged and weaved. He feel back when Malthus arrived to challenge the Nagpa, and searched the room frantically for a weapon. Malthus hit the beast with a few good blows, but then the Nagpa managed to force him off his feet and onto the wooden table. Malthus was weighed down by his chain mail, and before he could roll off, the table exploded into flames with a wave of heat! The cleric’s armour protected him from most of the fire, but he also moved back, stunned for a few seconds.

The situation had changed however. Now three armed people stood at the entrance to the room, as well as Malthus and Turadyl inside it. Leeham had found a lit torch, and seemed ready to rush the beast as well. The Nagpa backed off, and with a few words a large dragon like creature suddenly filled the room. The group gasped in unison as it drew back to strike. In desperation Cronwyn lashed out with his sword, and the conjured image vanished as if it had never been there. However the Nagpa had taken advantage of the distraction to run into a small passage behind a wall hanging.

The party quickly pursued the creature down the passage. They found themselves in a small rocky cavern. At one end of the cave was a small pool, at the other a black hole with many rotten bones scattered around it. The room had sickly rotten smell to it. The Nagpa was back up to the hole and looked at the party in defiance. "I curse you to eternal damnation", he uttered in a croaky, cackling voice, then turned and jumped into the dark hole in the cavern floor. Silence fell over the room. Everyone suddenly felt weary and tired. Able to relax, their burns, scratches and bites began to hurt but no one was critically injured. They knew it would take several days to recover from this ordeal.

Turadyl, weapon less and without any spells, felt vulnerable. Glancing around at the others, he said tentatively, "Should we follow him?". His voice indicated that he very much did not want to follow, but they still didn’t have the map.

"Did any one see if that creature was carrying the map?” Kris panted, still recovering his breath from the battle “We should check if it is in the other room before we send anyone down there. The mirror also needs to be inspected." The archer moved closer to the pit while he was talking, looking inside with caution since he still feared the Nagpa’s powers and doubted it had committed suicide. The hole extruded a rotten foul smell, the stink of something evil. Glancing down Kris saw gases and the rocks that glowed red hot. The Nagpa must have surely taken his own life plunging into the abyss, the Kris had not doubt that anyone else following would do the same.

The party returned up the short corridor to the creature’s living quarters. The fire on the table had gone out and the mirror still lay face door on the floor. A few other pieces of furniture lay scattered about, and underneath the remains of a chair the map scroll-case was found, having fallen to the ground during the heat of the battle. The outside were slightly scorched, but Malthus was relieved when he opened it and the map was not damaged. The cleric tucked it into a hidden pocket, making a mental note to have it copied on the journey ahead.

Cronwyn found five gems in a money pouch on the creatures bed. He estimated them to be worth about five hundred gold pieces each. “At least we have some reward for coming here!” He said cheerfully, still thinking about the vast wealth in the other room.

A couple of notes were found, written in some form of code. They were slightly charred from the fire, and even Shayam who said he was good at figuring out such things, doubted he would be able to translate them. In one corner of the room was a series of what appeared to be animal and human bones. A human skull was found with a large ivory pin pierced through the top. On the pin was a carving but this was obscured by the skull itself, and the pin would have to be pulled free to reveal what the carving was. Kris put this in a pocket for later inspection.

This left only the mirror. With the group gathered around with drawn weapons, Turadyl grabbed an end and righted it.

The figure in black armour still stood where the reflection of the party should be. Behind him was a scene from another room, not the one they were all standing in. The figure seemed to look around the room at the scene the battle had created. Bending down he wrote on two parchments and then pushed them forward. As they touched the mirror, they caused a ripple and then the parchments passed through easily, as if breaking the surface of a pond. They dropped at Turadyl’s feet. The black, armoured figure then bowed, his eye’s twinkling in a mocking way behind his veil. Then the scene slowly faded until all that was left was the reflection of the party and the room in which they stood.

Glancing at the parchment , Turadyl found they were written on in Thyatian, the common language of the land. The elf read them out loud. The first said, "Come and enjoy my hospitality mortals. I will wait for you beyond the great pass." The other said, "The bearers of this seal are to be given free escort to the Great Temple. By the hand of the Master." The party stood around the scrolls, shocked.

“The arrogance of the man,” muttered Cronwyn. Turadyl took the scrolls and tucked them into his shirt.

Kris had picked the skull that he had found out of his pocket, and was examining it. “Have any of you seen anything similar to this before?” He asked.

"Let me see that for a minute Kris," Malthus said. He looked carefully at the skull to see if it resembled the one they found on the dead mage all the way back in Pramayama. He also tried looking at the inscriptions, but they were underneath the pin and could not be fully seen without removing it. "My mind is a little foggy. Cronwyn or Turadyl, do you see any resemblance to the skull we found before?"

"You mean the amulet that Alexander took with him? Hmmm..." Turadyl looked thoughtfully at the skull, then dismissed it. "I didn’t get a good look at it, but I don’t think they look related. Lets examine it back to the caravan.”

Curiosity brought another question from Kris. "What are you talking about? Who is this Alexander and what is this amulet? Have you already met this kind of creature before?". The archer was growing suspicious. "Are you hiding something from us again? Like the tale of Glantri?" His eyes were thin and his words provocative. "I think that it is now time to look at this map for which we all have fought. May I Malthus?"

It suddenly seemed like everyone was talking at once. Malthus looked bristly at Kris’ attempt to get the map from him. He was not keen on being parted for it again so soon. Cronwyn was trying to intervene. Leeham also interrupted, "May I also enquire as to the final destination of this caravan?” He asked no-one in particular. “I’ve been lost in the desert for a week, and would not mind a trip anywhere as long as you have water."

Turadyl spoke up loudly over all of them. “We can argue about all this. We've got what we came for and more besides." The elf looked around nervously. "This place is really beginning to bother me. I say let's take all this stuff and get out of here. We can look at the map, skull and scrolls more closely back at camp in the morning." This comment reminded everyone that it was still night outside, although it must be getting close to morning by now.

Shayam agreed. The dark man was exhausted from the searching and the combat. "Let's return to the caravan and rest, friends. I'm not interested in either answering or asking questions any further tonight."

Kris looked at the skull as they talked. He couldn’t read the inscription underneath the pin, and since he figured they had already been cursed by the Nagpa, he slid the metal pin out from the skull. It made the sound of steel against bone as it came free. A low rumbling began as soon as Kris removed the pin. It began to grow louder and stopped the discussion among the rest of the party. “What is…?” said Turadyl as he turned around. He was greeted by the site of Kris holding the pin in one hand and the skull in the other, and a guilty look on his face. “Oh, you idiot,” muttered the elf, not really that surprised. Kris gave a quirky smile, but that was knocked of his face as the rumbling terminated with a huge clap of thunder that seemed to echo from every wall in the temple. The floor began to tremble and heave.

Kris gave the pin in his hand a surprised look and then exclaimed over the growing noise. "Uh oh! I... I did nothing, I was just ... Oh guys, I think is time to MOVE!!!"

To the archer’s horror, the skull was magically pulled from his hands and began to roll towards the other bones on the floor. These bones were also moving together and flesh could be seen beginning to grow on them. A burst of howling screams came from the deep shaft down the corridor, and steam and smoke began to below forth from behind the wall hanging covering the entrance. The group watch with shock as the bones of the creature started to interconnect to reveal a man's upper torso and head adorning the body of a scorpion. The flesh was rapidly being covered over with skin and the man's features become easily identifiable. Looking right at the party he screamed, "Flee now mortals! Flee while you can!" As if to punctuate his words a large piece of debris crashed down nearly blocking the exit from the small room. Other smaller rocks and pieces of debris begin to fall in the large hall, dislodged by the heaving and shaking of the earth around them.

"As you want! Pardon us for disturbing you, but now we must be going!" Running as fast as he can, Kris tried to take the mirror with him.

“Leave it!”, screamed Cronwyn, already halfway out the door. The rest of the party were already fleeing the temple. They took the small secret staircase back up again, and barged past the mummy guarding the door. As they reached the ramp and sprinted down to the desert floor, the bright sun of the early morning greeted them warmly, making the events of the last few hours seem unreal. The ground gave a few more heaves and fell still and quiet. Dust could be seen puffing from the main entrance, an indicator of the debris still falling within.

Huddled on the ground near the base of the ramp, the party saw the sleeping figure of Ghitu with several water skins. It looked like the poor boy had waited out there for them the entire night. The water in his bags certainly helped cut some of the dust and heat from the crypt from their throats. Cronwyn smiled at the slow-witted Sindian although he was a little surprised to see the lad there. The old merchant began the slow trudge back towards the caravan.

Malthus brought up the rear, the trader only slightly ahead of him. Slapping Cronwyn on the back he chuckled, "Ohhh, I am getting too old for this sort of thing. Perhaps I shall find a nice shelter somewhere with some flowers to tend. Halav is testing me this time." Cronwyn sighed in agreement. "I actually thought that I had retired a long time ago. It is strong how fate - and a women - can change your life upside down." Malthus was reminded of Cronwyn's discussion so long ago with Rodrick in the marshlands, but decided now was not the time to ask.

Chapter Eleven
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