Chpt 7. Shattered Sanctum
Trigger Warning: Branding, Exploding Ogres, Playing with Squid Corpses, Bullying Probably.
As we enter the Temple of Selune Shadowheart has a moment that gives her pause, I stop and look at her, "What is it? Another memory?" I'm half hoping she's recovering something to give me hope for myself, but even if she is I doubt she'll give me much detail.
She shakes her head, "Intuition, honestly if you had any sense you'd be unsettled by this place too. Any temple poisoned by this moon witch is going to be a bad omen."
Smiling I lean in, "Moon witch? Selune?" I'm teasing her at this point, but it goes over her head. She's too focused on her concerns.
Shadowheart carries an unfaltering solemnity, "Of course. Whatever lies you've heard about her are just that, lies." She engages with me directly, "Look, you saved my life back on the nautiloid, I'm in your debt and I take that seriously. Please, heed my advice and remain on your guard while here. The goblin hive might be an improvement on her profane order, but you never know what might remain."
I soften and match her demeanor putting my hand on her back in comfort, "I understand, thank you. Honestly, this shouldn't take too long, if you want to head back to camp, we should be fine on our own."
She shakes her head, "I appreciate it but no, I'd rather stay for your sake. Let's get our business done and be out of here."
I nod respectfully and we continue. We quickly come to the sentries at the back of the vestibule and standing there is Sazza.
"Ah! There you are!" She gestures to us, "Come on in, Priestess Gut is just inside, but I bet you'll be wanting to speak to the Drow."
With Sazza vouching for us once again we walk past the sentries and into the main hall. It is an ancient stone temple with aged statues of cloaked and bearded men looming over us on all four corners of the great hall. In the middle, stacked on top of the intricately lain stone floor, is a makeshift platform with a branding station and the priestess marking goblins. The smell of burning goblin flesh permeates the air. Priestess Gut, an ornately dressed booyagh, catches our eye almost immediately and we feel faint psionic energy thrumming from her mind. She pushes the reverent goblin in front of her to the side, "Get out of here scrap! We've got some real True Souls in our midst!" As I approach her, she links her mind to mine, she rummages through my blighted thoughts and from her mind I see her standing before one of the chosen. The cunt, his smiley demeanor has an annoyingly insistent authoritative aura that seems to exist outside of actually commanding such a thing naturally. It's embarrassing. I pull myself from her mind in the same moment she does. She gives me a wry smile and waggles her finger at me, "You've got some interesting shadows boppin' around in that head of yours. Seems to me you've got a little worm problem in your skull. If you want, I can take care of that for you."
I'm struck with confusion, and I begin to probe her, "Worm problem? You have the same worm as me."
Gut scoffs, "I ain't got worms in my head, but I do got a solution for you. First things first, you gotta get the brand." She turns and rolls the brand in the flames to be sure it's evenly heated.
I look at it, the symbol is a roughly shaped hand with a skull in its palm, the banners around the camp all carried the same symbol. "The mark of The Absolute? Why would a True Soul need such a thing?"
She picks up the brand, satisfied with her preparations, she turns back to me and holds out her hand, beckoning me, "This'll show anyone who can't feel it exactly what you are. Everyone will know you're a follower of The Absolute. Give me your hand."
I look down at her, weighing the choice. This will make it easier to move within the cult but could also cause issues if I need to work with groups who are explicitly in opposition. Who would be easier or safer to bargain with? I kneel to her level, removing my bracer, unwrapping my hand and hold it out to her. She takes it and quickly presses the brand into my palm. The searing pain is immediate as she cauterizes down to my subcutaneous tissue, it's only mere seconds but it feels like an eternity. The skin is thicker on my palm, especially since I fight mainly with a greatsword. The calluses she's burning through are tenacious, and she's not blind to this fact, holding the brand in place until she is certain it's left its mark. Third degree burns, a mercy given that second degree burns are far more painful when healing. The smell of my own burning flesh is interesting, the same as other burning tissues but it feels more fragrant given that it belongs to me. The smoke laps at my nostrils like a specter desperate to return to its corporeal form. My eyes close tightly, my jaw clenches, I'm holding my breath through the agony. She finally removes it, and I let out a heavy exhale with a visible shudder coursing through my body. The pain stimulates me, I'm flooded with adrenaline and it's arousing. Of course it would be, given what I've gathered about myself sadomasochism is not a shocking revelation. I look at my palm and see the brand glow with a burning red light, it's imbued with magic which mostly heals the brand. Though still tender I rewrap my hand and replace my bracer. I stare down at my hand once more and, when called to, the light of the brand's magic shines through my hand wraps like a projection for all to see.
She smiles with approval, "Now that that's done, let's speak in private. This way to my quarters, we don't want these scabs listening in on True Soul business."
I look down at Sazza, "I'll find you when we're done, remain here until we get back."
She gives a nod, "You got it, Boss, I know True Soul business is important! You can count on me."
I follow Gut with Shadowheart, Lae'zel, and Astarion trailing just behind.
Astarion slides up next to me, "Sooo, you've gotten branded. How did you like it? It seemed to be a full body experience for you." The mischief in his eye is telling. He wants something.
I give a half laugh, "Have you come to pester me about it? I'm not going to pretend I didn't enjoy it, I'm sure you've been catching on to my... tastes."
He casually looks at his fingernails, "I don't know what you're talking about, darling." Then looks at me with a toss of his perfectly quaffed hair, "So was it a full orgasm, or are you just edging right now?"
I nudge him with my elbow, shaking my head, "The arbiter of subtlety. Gods, you're so annoying."
He laughs and leans into me, "You know you love it."
He's not wrong, ever since the bite he has seemed far less punchable, although he's just as insufferable, "Is that all you wanted to ask me? If I'm horny right now?"
He playfully rolls his eyes, "I'm just making casual conversation between two friends. You were able to interrogate me, but I have the misfortune of not being able to do the same given you're a useless amnesiac. So, I'm relegated to having to get to know who you are now, despite any past baggage."
He makes a good point; my behavior is the only thing defining who I am. I need to keep that at the top of my mind. Things like 'paladin' and 'masochist' aren't exactly a personality. Pieces of a larger puzzle, maybe. "Do you want me to keep you posted on any new revelations? Or did you have something else in mind?"
Astarion opens his mouth to speak but Priestess Gut interrupts, "In here and close the door behind you. We don't want any prying ears."
We file in and Shadowheart closes the door. I walk up to Priestess Gut, "What do you know about the worm in my head?"
The buttery grin she gives me is poorly practiced and attempting to mask clear deception, "I know you need to get that thing out of you, and I've got the cure, but I can't do it with an audience. The rest of you clear out."
I lift my eyebrows, alert, and I subtly shift my gaze from Gut to Astarion who had been looming somewhere behind her near an altar of candles. He locks eyes with me at the same time and purses his lips. I fold my arms and broaden my stance looking back down at her, "There's nothing else you can tell me? How do you intend to extract it?"
"The Absolute has blessed me with skilled hands; you just leave those details to me."
I drop my head, exasperated, and then kneel in front of Gut watching her eyes, "I need you to be very careful with the next thing you say."
Gut looks uneasy from my shift in demeanor and takes a step back.
"Do you actually know how to remove it?"
She holds my stare like a stubborn child and the words she speaks do nothing to hide her lies though she speaks them still with a measured directness, "Of course. I can tell you ain't no Scab, you're special, you've been blessed just like me. I'm just here helping one of our own!"
"I see, how very generous of you." I look at Astarion and nod.
Gut's throat is opened up abruptly but Astarions sharpened dagger, a warm waterfall of blood coats the front of her body like a burial shroud. I stand as I watch her die. Gut begins to convulse on the ground; her eyes are empty and she's dead enough for me. I stomp on her head and her skull cracks open; I bend down and sift around in her cranial tissues until I find her worm. Having collected a few more vials I bottle it and stick it in my cloak pocket with the other tadpoles. I hear Shadowheart get sickened, and I glance over at her, "Are you okay?"
She's holding her hand to her mouth, "Yes, I'm fine. Carry on." She takes her time to compose herself.
I turn back to the corpse and flip through Gut's effects to see if she has anything else useful on her. I pull a necklace with a symbol of the Absolute off her body and grab a few keys from her pocket. I pick up Gut's body and walk over to a wide crack in the floor that seemed to empty out into endless darkness. I drop her body and after a few moments I still haven't heard it land. Strange. There is a door at the back of the room, I walk over and test a few of the keys. The door unlocks with one of them and opens into a corridor lined with dusty bookshelves. As we walk down, I see to the right is an empty prison cell, and to the left the corridor opens up into Gut's personal quarters.
There, standing at about 3m (~10ft) tall is an ogre, some kind of guard for Gut's room. She has a large club in hand, a long branch with a mass of stubborn roots jutting out from the burled end forming a jagged and almost mace-like weapon. She locks eyes with me, and I take a step back, "YOU!!! NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!!!"
She is menacing and clearly not someone who could be reasoned with in this situation, though I try, "We're here on Priestess Gut's behalf."
She isn't having it, "PULMA PROTECT THE TRUE SOUL!!!" She begins to charge me, and I quickly attempt to raise my hand to show her the symbol of the Absolute but I'm fumbling, completely caught off guard by the situation. Suddenly an arrow hits her in the face and shatters into splinters against her thick skull. Astarion has perched himself on a platform head high to the ogre, having climbed a ladder intended for the bookshelves.
While Pulma is distracted Lae'zel charges her. She steps nimbly despite her plate mail. I've never given Githyanki training much thought, but it's clearly disciplined and rigorous given her skill or she is simply an exceptional warrior. It's truly impressive to see in action. She strikes the ogre with precision causing a deep wound that is quickly cauterized by the hell flames of her Everburn Blade. She gathers her strength and strikes again in quick succession. Another gash, another burning wound.
Pulma flails in rage but stubbornly doesn't shift her attention from me, "YOUUU!!! GET OUT!!! GET OUUTTT!!!"
She raises her club, and I unsheathe my greatsword, bracing myself. Right as I do Shadowheart ducks past me, pulling dark magic into her palm that festers into a necrotic strike. She hits the ogre on the right side, causing a rotting wound to spread across her belly. Pulma flinches and roars once again bringing the club down on top of me. The crushing strike knocks me down, the shards of burl leaving a ragged bruise on my right shoulder and down my back. It takes me a moment to breathe again; the force of the strike has left me stunned and unable to even try to get up. Astarion gets off another shot which strikes the ogre in the neck, but her thick skin is resilient against his arrows. Lae'zel broadens her stance and swings to strike Pulma once again, but the ogre is focused now and dodges the burning blade. Shadowheart sees Pulma prepare to strike Lae'zel and commands, 'halt'. She stops mid swing, and I finally get a moment to gather myself, but only a moment as she shakes off the spell quickly. I rise to my feet frustrated, feeling pain I hadn't asked for. With greatsword in hand I swing at her left side with all the force I have. I evoke a thundering smite and as sword meets flesh the cut made by the blade is blown open by the percussive blast of the smite. To my surprise the strike is quickly followed by a burst of divine power that further rends her asunder. The softened necrotic tissue also does poor Pulma no favors in holding herself together. She's nearly torn in two and we are showered with her gore. It flies far enough to spatter Astarion in a celebration of meat confetti, while Lae'zel, Shadowheart, and I get the full splash from her bursting abdomen.
Stunned by the smites abrupt devastation, my companions stand in horrified silence before looking at me with a mixture of revulsion and vexation. Lae'zel wipes viscera out of her eyes, and a ribbon of intestines slides off Shadowheart's shoulder, her usual poise cracked by a look of disgust curling her mouth. Astarion pulls chunks of ogre from his pristine hair, and he stares me down. A black cat on a throne of indignity, "Darling, in the event you feel compelled to explode any ogres in the future, please warn us."
I sheathe my sword and look at each of them, murmuring reticently, "I didn't know that was going to happen. The divine smite I mean." I take a moment to reflect, "That clubbing really pissed me off..."
Astarion rolls his eyes and climbs down to join us, stepping carefully around the mess. Shadowheart tries her best to brush off as much of the entrails as possible, "Well... at least she's taken care of." She tries to hide the gagging in the back of her throat.
Lae'zel's voice oozes with intolerance, "If your powers are unpredictable then how can we rely upon you in a fight?" She tucks the Everburn Blade back in its sheath.
Playfully offended, I follow the challenge, "You can rely on me to kill and not completely miss a swing against a lethargic giant standing directly in front of me."
Lae'zel's nostrils flair, "Even the most seasoned warrior may miss a strike from time to time, at least she didn't incapacitate me!"
Laughing, I lean into her, "Only because of Shadowheart."
She becomes speechless with rage at the prospect that the traitor Shadowheart might have actually helped her.
At that I look over the team once again, an absolute mess, "We can't go back out there suddenly covered in gore, goblins are stupid, but they aren't blind. We need to find a way to clean up."
Shadowheart gives Lae'zel a smug fucking look, "I can take care of it. Get ready for a shower." She collects what magic she has left and casts a manifestation of water that rains down on us. We're able to wipe off most of the ogre gore, good enough to not draw attention.
"Good thinking Shadowheart, thank you. Let's see if Gut had anything useful hidden away before we head out." I brush off my sleeves one last time and scan the room. There is a large altar to the Absolute to the right of the room, it's built upon a pile of assorted bones in between two stone altar tables once dedicated to Selune. Straight ahead there is an alcove furnished with a large, elegant bed, covered in a scattering of more bones from various animals. On either side of the bed there are a couple of night tables, a wardrobe, a cabinet, and a dilapidated desk. Most of the books stacked on top of it are covered in dust and utterly neglected. To left there is an empty corridor that goes deeper into the temple. It has a notable absence of goblin filth, I guess whatever is kept down that way was of no interest to anyone.
I start at the left side of the alcove. I begin to go through the drawers and most of what I find is trash. Loose meaningless papers, more animal bones, and a stench I can't quite put my finger on. I walk around the bed to the night table on the right and as I open the drawer a book slides forward. It's a large and dogeared journal with several missing pages. Its leather bound and sealed with two buckled straps, though the cover itself is barely hanging on. I pick it up and unbuckle it, carefully flipping it open. This isn't Gut's journal, it's the journal from a priestess of Selune. I glance over my shoulders to keep tabs on Shadowheart. She's standing behind me some distance to the right, distracted by a small chest that had been tossed onto the ground at some point, it seems to hold something of significance. I turn, making sure my shoulders hide the book from her view as I read through it.
"Thus the interlocking circles will bring the full moons to match the stars, while casting darkness where it belongs at the bottom. That chasm to the Underdark will stay sealed.
I confess the design is not foolproof to outsiders, but I had to sacrifice complexity for material resilience. I've always wondered why Selune took me from the Hall of Wonders to serve at this temple as a priestess. Perhaps this was the reason."
A passage to the Underdark? I place the journal back into the drawer and consider its words. A riddle? Casting darkness where it belongs at the bottom. Seems a bit overkill for something so obvious, of course the Underdark is dark, why in the hells would they need to seal it away? Selunites can't be this paranoid about the mere presence of darkness, despite the nature of their goddess. Selune, the moon goddess of light forever at odds with her sister Shar, goddess of darkness. Two halves of a whole that split so long ago that it's a wonder the stories ever survived. I glance back at Shadowheart once again. There is something more to it if Selune sent a priestess from the Hall of Wonders. Admittedly I don't have any recollection of what The Hall of Wonders is, but it seems to have been a significant sacrifice for the priestess to have left. This must have been important. But how and why?
I finally turn and look at the others, "Find anything useful?"
Shadowheart shows me the object of her interest, "This amulet appears to grant the wearer Misty Step." She quickly puts it on and tucks it into her mail. That spell will help her move around a lot more effectively, it grants teleportation from one place to another within the caster's line of sight.
"Fantastic find. What else?"
Lae'zel shakes her head and Astarion wrinkles his nose, "Nothing. I wouldn't expect Gut to have much in the way of treasure. Goblins have a skewed idea of what's actually valuable."
"True." I look back to the corridor and make my way through, the others following in toe. The stone walls are crumbling and ruined by the overgrowth from trees above. The devastation has clearly taken place over decades given the size of the roots protruding from the stones. It would stand to reason this place has been abandoned for as long. The corridor leads into a temple chamber deeper underground. The door opens up into a banister separating the lower floor from the entrance, and the room splits into a set of two stone stairways on either side. They lead to the center of the chamber where a hole in the ceiling casts light straight down onto a decorative pattern on the ground. As we make our way down the steps, our movement kicks up dust which shines in the light as it lilts through the air, passing into the column of illumination, lazy but alive once again. The pattern on the floor is that of four interlocking circles with moons and stars. Each circle appears to be a rotating disc with four moons on four sides of each circle. The light cast from the ceiling deliberately illuminates the circle below the one adorned with stars. There are four dark moons scattered amongst the full moons decorating each disk. Cast the darkness where it belongs at the bottom. Bring the full moons to match the stars. Ah. Understood.
I get to my knees and brush the dust away from one of the circles, I begin to try to rotate it clockwise to move the dark moon toward the illuminated circle. I press and shift, and I feel it loosen but it won't budge. My fingers slip across the stone and the disk lays stubborn and unmoved. There is no lip or divot where my fingers can gain any more traction, I need more pressure. I look at the others, "Come on, help me move this damn thing." Astarion and Lae'zel kneel around the disk, but Shadowheart stays planted where she is. I glance up at her but don't bother asking her for help, I already know the answer. As we press, the disk gives up and shifts clockwise until the dark moon lands in the illuminated circle, "Left's shift the rest to move the dark moons into the light." Diligently we quickly shift the rest of the disks to move the dark moons into place. Just as the last one lands, we hear the tooth griding sound of a stone door being opened.
We stand and dust ourselves off and Shadowheart shakes her head, "This is what I'm talking about. Who knows what they were hiding in there. Best we avoid it."
I walk over and peak through the door. It's a natural cavern that empties out into a pit. Wooden makeshift steps curve around the cavern walls leading to a hole. A ladder leans against the bottom platform of the rickety wooden steps, and I walk over, testing my weight on the steps before moving forward. I look down the hole and the darkness swallows the ladder before I can make out what's down there and how far down it goes. The others hadn't followed me, and I make my way back up to them, "It's an entrance to the Underdark."
Lae'zel postures, folding her arms, "How can you be sure?"
"I found some notes that mentioned it, but it didn't give much detail, like where we might end up if we go down there."
"We are getting too far off course. We need to pursue my people near Waukeens Rest. It's already been a day; they could be long gone by now." Her frustration bites at the silence of the cavern.
"You're correct, we need to head that way. Let's speak to the other leaders of this camp and see what else we can learn."
A wave of relief washes over Lae'zel's face, though she's still on edge. We make our way out and I lock the door to Gut's chambers as we step back into the main hall where we find Sazza milling about by the branding station.
"Boss! How did it go with Priestess Gut?" Her tone of excitement is reflected in the eyes of the other goblins she's been speaking to.
"Our business was private, don't overstep your station, Sazza. Priestess Gut will be busy in her chambers for some time. Be sure not to disturb her."
The goblins nod an acknowledgement and Sazza lower's her head, "My apologies! What's next on the list? Ready to meet the Drow?"
"Yes, we're ready, lead the way."
She hops to her feet and beckons us to follow her deeper into the temple.
We hear chanting coming from a ceremonial chamber at the very back of the temple. As we walk up a short flight of stairs, we see the stone floor of the temple has broken away in several places, exposing a caged off cell beneath. Two large spiders are housed below; their cage littered with bones of all kinds. Clearly a sacrificial dumping ground to these creatures. The drow is likely lolth sworn if they are harboring spiders in such a way. Although why they would still have affinity for the Spider Queen is a mystery if they are a brainwashed True Soul like Gut. Maybe it's just a cultural love for spiders? Who knows. I look toward the back of the temple, and through a row of stone columns I see a large battle worn hob goblin standing on a dais surrounded by dancing goblins. It seems they are doing some sort of ritual around a corpse. I lean down and touch Sazza's shoulder, "Who is that?"
Sazza beams with pride, "That's Dror Ragzlin! He's a mighty warrior and another True Soul. Him, Priestess Gut, and the drow Minthara are the True Souls that run this camp. We were blessed to have three, but now we have you, too! We must be some kind of special tribe to be favored by her in this way."
"What is Ragzlin doing?"
"True Soul Ragzlin found that dead squid on the beach. He's trying to raise it so he can find out where it came from. Says it may help us find the weapon, help us find who survived the crash."
My hair stands on end, and I immediately blow past her toward Ragzlin.
Startled Sazza calls after me, "Boss, I don't think we should interrupt!"
I ignore her and approach the ritual, trying to get a closer look at the illithid corpse on the ground. It's silver blood leaks from its head; a distinct sword wound on the very top of its conical skull. Shit. I watch Ragzlin as he clumsily tries to raise the illithid with a spell to help him speak to the dead, but it mercifully fails.
Ragzlin finally catches my eye, and I feel his voice surge into my mind, "Ever speak to a dead squid?"
I connect with him, and the overwhelming taste of booze and bile fills my throat, it's sickening and almost unbearable. Ragzil quickly pulls himself from my mind and recoils, "A True Soul Devil." He eyes me warily, "You've got some interesting thoughts floatin' around in your head. Nothing short of what I would expect from your kind. Just goes to show all the rumors are true, you don't think about nothin' but killing."
"Beautiful, isn't it? Stay out of my fucking head if it's going to be an issue." I'm grateful I don't have to taste his vomitus hangover anymore. "Putting on a show for the tribe?"
Ragzlin points at the illithid on the ground, "I bet anything this squid saw who survived. It wasn't just killed by the crash like the rest, it was killed by someone. Whoever was snooping around has to know where the weapon is."
Astarion grabs my arm, hissing into my ear, "This is your fuck up you know. I'm not helping you out of it."
I push him off me and whisper, "We're both just as dead if I don't fix this, now be quiet."
I look at the mind flayer corpse and suddenly get a surge of anxiety from Shadowheart, she knows the weapon they seek is the prism. I reach back out to her subtle and soothing, caressing her mind into ease. If she can stay focused, she won't give anything away. I look back to Ragzlin, "I can make this a hell of a lot easier for you. I killed the squid." Ragzlin looks at me for a moment and sizes me up, posturing arrogantly. I raise my hand at him dismissively, "I was sent by the Absolute on the very same mission. I reached it long before your scouting parties had a chance to rummage through the wreckage."
Ragzlin lowers himself, "You were sent from Moonrise?"
The name seems sickeningly familiar, but the notions don't clue me into what he means, fuck, time to roll the dice, "Yes, I witnessed the crash that very night. I was headed here to help with your search but was redirected to the crash for obvious reasons."
Ragzlin's eyes go wide, and a look of frustration clouds his expression, "Why did you kill the squid then, did you see the survivors, and what about the weapon?" His questions are incessant but understandable.
"The squid tried to attack me; it gave me no choice. Afterward I raised it and spoke to it myself, that's why you're having trouble, it has nothing more to say. I can tell you it didn't have the answers we're looking for."
Ragzlin snorts and looks at the squid as his anger rises. He climbs down from the dais only to pick up the mind flayer and throw it into the spider pit screaming, "Useless!" He turns and points at me, "Go report to Minthara! Tell her everything you've found. She's probably right, the survivors ran off to hide in that gods forsaken druid's grove. Maybe YOU can find the damned place!"
"Right away." At that I turn and leave.
Astarion looks back at Ragzlin as he sits on a makeshift throne decorating the dais like the little goblin king he is, "I will never believe a damned word you say ever again. That was silken and diabolical."
I snort, "You know how to play the game just as well as I do. Don't pretend you're innocent."
"What do you mean? I've been nothing but forth coming and honest. Come on, it's not like I'm Shadowheart, keeper of the least obvious secrets I've ever seen."
I chuckle quietly to him, "You've picked up on her too?"
"Don't insult me by assuming I couldn't see it. 'I'm not going to tell you anything about myself except that I'm a dark cleric who hates Selune.' She practically smells like a dark justiciar."
Dark Justiciars. The elite warriors of the Goddess Shar. We quietly laugh between each other like a couple of gossiping schoolboys, making our way back to Sazza. Still, my thoughts drift to the possibilities. If she is a Cleric of Shar then perhaps she can channel her goddess and allow me to explore Shar's power. Shar could possibly be the one who powers me as well. I need Shadowheart to admit her devotional allegiance though. The odds her god is anyone else is slim. I need to look for an opportunity to speak to her about the matter without jeopardizing her trust in me.