Cryptic Encounters

Siegfried put pressure on the prybar in an effort to shift the sarcophagus lid further, but failed to make any headway. Varien sighed and rolled his eyes. “I am not sure I agree with what you’re doing,” he said. “But if you’re going to do it, at least do it right.” He elbowed Siegfried aside and took hold of the prybar. With a grunt, he applied some elbow grease. The sarcophagus lid began to move, its plaster seal splitting as Varien levered it off the stone coffin.   Siegfried kept his eldritch eyes focused on the interior of the sarcophagus as it was revealed.   As the paladin pushed the lid clear, Siegfried noticed an inky purple-black aura that began to seep out like smoke from beneath a doorframe, oozing over the sides of the coffin. The arcane fog had the same distasteful composition of necrotic and demonic magic Siegfried had registered earlier in the summoning (or binding) circles that had been arrayed within the crypt.   “Fascinating,” he muttered, his eyes glittering.   Varien peered into the sarcophagus as the lid fell away with a cracking sound. Inside the coffin was a humanoid creature covered in burial wrappings. Something about the corpse seemed odd, and then it clicked – it was clearly too large for the coffin it had been placed in, and was lying in a contorted position that made the paladin’s joints ache.   Then its eyes opened.   With a series of grotesque squeezing and popping sounds, the humanoid unfolded itself and began to pull itself out of the sarcophagus. It got to its feet, towering over the paladin and half-orc. Its shape was vaguely feminine, and the gaunt outlines of its body beneath layers of tightly bound cloth strips seemed to glow, its wiry muscles an indigo colour as they strained against the bandages.   It reminded Siegfried of the Thayan wight’s mottled corpse out on the Sleeping Dragon Bridge.   “I told you!” Varien said, squaring his shoulders as he stared up at the creature. “I did not agree with this!”   In the giant creature’s right hand was a long sword, a hooked curve in its blade reminiscent of a sickle with a serrated outer edge and upturned tip.   The creature’s eyes were solid black orbs that burned with rage. Her mouth opened and her voice was like the fraying of rope.   TO DISTURB MY SLUMBER IS DEATH the undead creature hissed.   There was the sound of doors slamming open and Bob stood in the entrance to the second chamber. He stared darkly at the creature and called upon Sune’s power for a flame strike .   A vertical column of divine fire punched through the crypt’s ceiling, enveloping the creature as she stood in the centre of the room. So powerful was the fiery blast that the long-cold wall sconces in each corner of the room ignited and blazed with renewed energy.   The creature screamed in rage and writhed amid the column of fire, turning to face Bob and delivering a most dreadful glare in the cleric’s direction.   Bob stood his ground, unyielding, in the face of the creature’s horrific visage.   “No,” he said. “ You! ”   The creature walked forward, kicking out the end of the stone coffin, sending shards shattering. She raised her sword as she closed the distance between herself and Bob.   Siegfried, sensing an opportunity, had Hack in his hand in an instant and buried the hatchet into the creature’s receding back. The mummy didn’t flinch. Still smoking from the holy fire, the creature lurched towards her prey.   Varien backpedaled as he saw the mummy’s sword raise up, intent on defending Bob. He put up his shield and lunged in front of the cleric as the sword lashed out. There was a ringing sound as the sword deflected off Varien’s shield. The force of the blow was enough to send Varien spinning out of the way. The creature raised her sword again and slashed at Bob, who managed to cast shield to ward off the blow.   Siegfried plucked a burning bit of burial bandage from Hack’s blade and cast Armor of the Dawn Titan on himself. In an instant a roiling mantle of ash and cinder coated his body.   “Sedos Sebile!” Siegfried shouted with regal steel in his voice. “You forget yourself! I order you to drop your sword!”   There was the cracking of bone and sinew as the creature turned her head over her shoulder to regard Siegfried with the black void of her eyes.   THAT NAME MEANS NOTHING TO ME. THIS BODY IS BUT A HUSK, A VESSEL FOR MY AMUSEMENT.   “Then you shall vacate that husk and leave my sanctuary,” Siegfried shouted back.   Varien nodded at Siegfried in mock salute. “Oh, that was good. A lot of gravel in your voice there. Good job.”   At his hip, Fiendsbane rattled in his scabbard.   Let me see, the sword said telepathically. Let me see!   “I’ll do better than let you see,” Varien told the sword as he drew it from its scabbard. “I’ll let you taste it!”   Varien infused his blade with divine energy, its blade beginning to glow with a holy light. Then the paladin struck with a searing smite that redirected Bob’s flame strike into a concentrated blast that bit deeply into the mummy’s side. He jumped up and struck the mummy a second time, his sword trailing fire.   The giant creature staggered under Varien’s attack. With each strike, Fiendsbane’s blade glowed an impossible shade of blue as cryptic runes lit up along its length.   I KNOW THAT BLADE the creature hissed in Infernal, a language that Fiendsbane translated for Varien’s benefit.   And I know you, servant of Baazka!   Fiendsbane’s voice echoed in Varien’s head and the paladin realized he was speaking the words aloud in a language he did not, under normal circumstances, comprehend.   YOU DARE? The mummy shrieked. YOU DARE UTTER MY MASTER’S NAME? FOR THAT I SHALL BREAK YOUR BLADE OFF BENEATH MY HEEL .   Bob disengaged and backed up a safe distance into the next chamber, and then drew upon his sorcerous reserves.   “She thinks she can criticize me?” he howled, enraged. “Send this thot a guiding bolt !”   A flash of light arced towards the creature and detonated against her torso.   Again, the creature locked eyes with Bob.   YOUR IMPUDENCE SHALL NOT GO UNPUNISHED.   The mummy opened her mouth, her jaw hyper-extending horribly. From her throat poured a swarm of black moth-like creatures that flitted their way unsteadily towards the next chamber.   In the glowing holy light that still suffused the crypt, the tiny moths cast weird, eldritch shadows that suggested their true forms were more bat-like, with distended, leathery wings and clawed feet.   The moths ignored Bob but burrowed deeply into the corpses that lay scattered about the chamber around him, through whatever orifice or open wound provided the most efficient ingress.   All around Bob, the dead men began to stir, dragging themselves to their feet. Blood poured out from still-oozing wounds, and some men lost limbs and loops of intestines from their torn abdomens as they struggled to stand.   “Ah, damn,” Bob said under his breath as he found himself surrounded by zombies.   “You dare turn your back to me?” Siegfried shouted at the creature. He manifested Talon and cast a branding smite as he swung his blade. The creature spun out of the way as the attack missed, and Siegfried cursed a blue streak.   Varien took advantage of the mummy’s distraction and struck her with a critical strike that bit deeply into the creature’s midsection. “Just leave!” he shouted as he prepared to slash her again.   Fiendsbane reached out in his mind’s eye. May I?   “By all means,” Varien said.   The sword let loose a burst of radiance that seared the eyes of the mummy until they popped in a horrible splash of black ichor.   The radiance entered the second chamber and seared the undead around Bob just as savagely. Several of the zombies groaned and pressed broken hands to their unseeing eyes as the light burned them.   That’s one , Fiendsbane said.   Varien was intent on disarming the mummy now that she was blinded by Fiendsbane’s radiant attack. He slashed deftly at the creature and severed her sword hand.   The mummy screamed in rage and agony as the sword, still gripped by a desiccated hand, clattered to the stone floor.   May I? Fiendsbane asked Varien again.   “Please sir, you may have some more!” Varien said.   As Fiendsbane rang through the air, it seemed to cut open the very fabric of reality itself, opening a thin slash into a plane that glowed of sulphurous brimstone.   “TO HELL WITH YOU, DEVIL!” Fiendsbane’s and Varien’s voices were in one chorus as they sang out in righteous fury.   The creature within Sedos Sebile’s remains screamed and howled in impotent rage as the planar curtain that the sword had cut open drew back and pulled it inexorably inward. The mummy’s body shuddered and shook as the fiendish entity was dragged out through its empty eye sockets, falling from the material plane, banished to whatever level of hell Fiendsbane apparently had the keys to.   The two halves of the split in reality sewed themselves up seamlessly and all that was left was a puff of sulphur that quickly dissipated   Freed from its animating source, the mummy’s remains collapsed into a cloud of dust, skin, and bandaged bone.   I’m going to need a minute here , Fiendsbane whispered to Varien. The sword seemed lighter somehow; diminished.   Siegfried hungrily eyed the sword that lay on the floor. “Thank you for disarming her before banishing her,” he said.

Bob brandished his holy symbol and used his divine energy to  turn undead . Several of the zombies moaned in sudden agony and tried to get away in whatever direction availed itself, which for the blinded creatures among their number proved difficult.   Bob then manifested a protective  wall of fire  that took the form of a fiery ring that quickly caught up those zombies who had withstood the turning.   Two zombies stumbled into the chamber where Varien and Siegfried were standing.   Siegfried threw Hack directly at the first of the two creatures, felling it. Walking up, he yanked the axe from the creature’s head and slammed the second zombie with it. Then he turned and picked up the mummy’s discarded sword with some effort, examining it for hidden details as he walked heedlessly into Bob’s ring of fire, absorbing the damage without a care.   Varien shook his head at Siegfried’s carefree mannerisms and inspected the inside of the ruined sarcophagus. Beneath the rotten burial shroud he found a silver scroll tube with a stopper in it.   Bob cast  toll the dead  on the remaining zombie.   Siegfried strolled south after the last zombie as it lurched away, fearful of Bob’s divine fury.   Casually, he cut the creature’s legs out from under it.   Moaning, the zombie was compelled to continue crawling away.   Siegfried disinterestedly pumped two  eldritch blasts  into the fleeing undead. This time it stopped moving for good.   He stopped and frowned, still looking at the oversized sword. “Ah, this is just a plain old blade,” he said, dropping it. He turned on his heel, intent on trying to restore the tomb to some semblance of sanctuary.   Bob let the  wall of fire  drop as Varien entered the chamber.   The paladin was waving the scroll tube. “Hey Bob, what do you know about magic scrolls?”   Bob shrugged. “My magic comes from within, Varien. I have no use for spell scroll scribblings, unlike others who have to actually go to school to learn of the supernatural.” He nodded condescendingly towards Siegfried.   “Well, I’ll just open this up myself then,” Varien said, pulling out the stopper. He pulled out a roll of parchment and discovered that it was written in a script and cadence he could completely comprehend.   “‘The Testament of Sedos Sebile?’” he read. “What is this, her will?”   He began to read it aloud.   I am a woman out of time. I have taken secrets to my deathbed, and will keep them just a little longer. Gods damn this Spellplague!   Let it be known that I served Neverwinter loyally, and Lord Nasher Alagondar to the best of my abilities.   But I am haunted.   Haunted by the history I alone have lived. A history not written down in the annals of the House of Knowledge. Haunted by the realization that my service was not completely loyal, and when it counted, I chose to follow my heart and not my oath.   This second life is lived in my dreams, and in my nightmares, and has been thus ever since my visit to the Cloak Tower.   Therein I saw…things…I cannot record here, for the pain is still too fresh, and even so I don’t believe I have the words to describe the terrors and atrocities I witnessed inside that accursed place.   But as I recovered from my shock, I remember certain details. They boil up, unbidden, when I close my eyes to rest.   I saw the armies of Neverwinter fall before Luskan and the Cult of the Eye. I witnessed the stinging betrayal of  Mondelahn Neith, who opened Neverwinter’s gates and doomed us all.   I saw Nasher Alagondor die a hero’s death.   I saw my lover Aarin Gend captured.   Forced underground, our resistance to the invaders was tenacious, but their agents approached me and claimed that they could deliver Aarin back to me, for a price. A high price.   I chose love over duty, securing Aarin’s release, but dooming the rebellion.   This is my everlasting shame, from which I wake from nightly, tears streaming down my face.   And yet.   And yet Neverwinter still stands free. Luskan does not occupy its streets.   Its gates are secure. As near as I can tell, no one in this city has heard of  Mondelahn Neith.   Nasher Alagondar still leads Neverwinter, a hero to all. The people even crowned him King.   And Aarin Gend is alive and well, but out of my reach forever. In his eyes I see no spark recognition, no evidence of the deep love we shared.   How do I know that what I experienced was real?   I know, because I wear Aarin Gend’s amulet, the symbol of our lasting love, around my neck, even as its twin, its exact double, resides between the breasts of Helain Gend, Aarin’s betrothed. Which of these amulets is real? Are they both real? How can that be?   I cannot explain this, but can only write down my truth before it dies with me.   Siegfried listened intently, and then stepped forward, his hand out. “Varien, I would have that piece of my family’s history, if you please.”   Varien frowned. “Now, I daresay that belongs to Neverwinter, Siegfried.”   “And I daresay that this woman’s privacy ought to be honoured,” Siegfried countered.   Varien frowned anew, but handed the scroll and tube over to Siegfried. “I don’t want this winding up on display in Narvos Heg’s collection,” he said.   “Perish the thought,” Siegfried said.   The half-orc made as if to replace it in the sarcophagus with Sedos Sebile’s remains, but pocketed it as soon as Varien’s back was turned.   “Now then,” Siegfried said, dusting off his hands. “I have an Order to form and a heartfelt apology to pen, and only a few hours in which to do it before I collapse from exhaustion.”   “We’re beat, too,” Varien said.   “Indeed,” Siegfried said. “Please tell Lady Nidris that I have found the company of a wanton lass this night, and will rejoin you at her breakfast table tomorrow.”   “Sure,” Varien said.   “One more thing,” Siegfried said. “Tell me when I’m wearing the face of the man who attempted to end the Lord Protector’s life.”   He used his  mask of many faces  ability to cycle through the identities of the Harpers he had met that morning – Theyris, Absalon, and the young woman and man from the cellar.   “That’s the guy,” Varien said as Siegfried took on the appearance of a young human male.   Bob nodded in agreement. “A good likeness.”   Siegfried nodded and departed.   Varien healed Bob and himself of their injuries. “Let’s get some rest,” he said.   “Sounds good to me,” Bob said.     Siegfried exited the crypt and sewer and made a beeline for the House of a Thousand Faces, switching identities constantly to throw off any would-be tails.   He also cast a  sending  message to his father Millio Thann. Hey. I killed a Hawkwinter dead. We are paying for his resurrection. Please send my apologies to Lady Hawkwinter with the requisite flowers, note, etc.   His father’s reply was curt.   That's coming out of your inheritance, my boy.   Siegfried stopped outside the tavern and took on once more the face of the young Harper, only this time he added sundry injuries and wounds, as though he’d been savaged and thrown from the Moonstone Mask.   He staggered through the doors, blood dripping from his mouth. He coughed wetly and moaned.   From behind the bar, Theyris stepped out, eyes wide in shock. “Rethan!” she called out. “What the hell happened to you?”   Rethan grinned, blood running down his chin, but when he spoke, he spoke with the angry voice of a half-orc noble. “Someone activated a hit on the Lord Protector without authorization, Theyris.”   Theyris drew up short as Siegfried dropped the disguise. “I see,” she said slowly.   “It’s time for that audit,” Siegfried said.   Theyris nodded. “It took some time, but most of our number are waiting for you downstairs.”   “Time?” Siegfried said. “The Lord Protector’s investigators will find Rethan’s body in a short amount of time.” He used  prestidigitation  to conjure the symbol that Bob had removed from the dead man’s neck. “And find out who we’re in bed with,” he said, showing it to Theyris.   He kicked open the door to the cellar. “Everyone who’s anyone had better be down there,” he shouted. “I want a full accounting of our strengths, you incompetent pieces of dirt. I want answers!”   Each stair down creaked in protest as he descended.   “Not only did we lose a man, we lost a magic item to a terrible plan,” Siegfried said, his voice ever louder as he approached the cellar. “Does no one know how poison works? Or a knife in a man’s ear while he sleeps? No, it’s just an obvious play in front of his friends, then?” Siegfried threw open the door to the basement meeting place. “Have you people never plotted an assassination before? By Tyr’s Eye, before the night is through, you’ll wish you had.”   He stepped through the threshold. “Let the audit begin!”