Chpt 7. Shattered Sanctum
Trigger Warning: Branding, Exploding Ogres, Playing with Squid Corpses, Bullying Probably.
As we enter the Temple of Selûne 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? Selûne?" 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. Aside from a few Absolutist trinkets and a key, she isn't harboring anything spectacular. I pull off her necklace and grab her key. With my foot, I nudge her ruined body into a wide crack in the floor. It vanishes into an endless darkness without a sound. I never hear it land. Strange.
I turn to Astarion holding up the key, "Do we think she'll have anything useful?"
He shrugs, "Looking doesn't cost anything but time."
I look over at Shadowheart and Lae'zel and they both seem largely ambivalent. I toss Astarion the key and he walks over to a door in the back of the chamber, swiftly unlocking it and slipping inside. We follow him, only to find a dimly candle lit corridor, lined with musty bookshelves. This room is oddly humid, and it's curdled the objects inside. That layered with the goblin stench, I almost turn back but see Astarion startle and flatten his back against the wall. A scream cracks the silence.
"I SEE YOU! SLIPPERY ELF!!!"
The steps thump with a great weight, and I see her round the corner. Standing at about 3m (~10ft) tall is an ogre. She's snorting impatiently and holding a large club over her shoulder. A sturdy branch with a mass of stubborn, jagged burl at the end. As good as any self-respecting mace. "WHERE IS GUT? YOU NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE."
I hold up my palms, trying to placate her menace, though I doubt she's one who can be bargained with. "We've come on Priestess Gut's behalf."
She growls low, "NO GUT. YOU GO!!!" She raises her club and moves to strike. I attempt to conjure the symbol of the Absolute from my brand, but I'm fumbling, completely caught off guard by the situation. As she steps forward an arrow crashes into her face, shattering against her thick skull. "AARRGGGGHHH!!!"
Astarion had climbed onto a ledge overlooking the corridor and swiftly aimed a shot at the ogre. He quickly reaches for another arrow, though recognizes his strikes barely stagger her.
As she regains her senses she begins to charge me again. Ugh, why me?
I shift to trying to grab my greatsword, but feel something breeze past me. The flames from Lae'zel's hell sword skirts past me with focus, nimble on her feet despite her plate armor. Her fighting style is almost like a dance. She strikes the ogre on her right side, precise, and deadly. She gathers her strength and strikes again in quick succession. Each wound is a deep cut, cauterized by the flames of her blade.
The ogre flails in rage, but is stubborn, and doesn't take her focus off me. 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 left side, causing a rotting wound to spread across her belly. The ogre flinches and lets out a guttural cry, but it only fuels the rage behind the pummeling blow she crashes down upon me. I collapse under the crushing weight of the club, breathless and stunned. I try to climb back to my feet, and as I do I hear another arrow cracking against the ogre's face. Gods bless him for trying. Lae'zel broadens her stance and takes another swing at the ogre, but the beast is focused now and dodges her attack. Shadowheart recognizes the relentless force and submits a command to her: 'Halt.' Mid-swing the ogre freezes, giving Lae'zel and I enough of a beat to recover. With frustration, I steady on my feet and focus my power. As I do, a few shallow sparks volley from my grip, sizzling with a red glow. I'm fueled by their addictive sensation and strike forth with rancor. As sword meets flesh the cut made by my blade is blown open by the percussive force of my thunderous smite. To my surprise, the strike is followed by a burst of divine power that further rends her in two. We are showered with her gore, spattering Astarion in a celebration of meat confetti. Lae'zel, Shadowheart, and I fully bathed in her busted abdomen.
Stunned by the smites abrupt devastation, my companions stand in horrified silence before looking at me with a mixture of revulsion and vexation. Astarion pulls chunks of flesh from his pristine hair, staring me down. A black cat on a throne of indignity, "I'm not keen on getting my hands dirty. I'm less keen on being covered in ogre gore."
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. The sour stench of stomach acids mixing with the metallic scent of blood fills the air. I am coated.
I glance up at him and murmur reticently, "I apologize. I didn't know that was going to happen."
He scoffs, nose wrinkled in disgust and petulance, carefully climbing down to meet us.
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 and maintains a healthy pragmatism.
Lae'zel's voice bites through Shadowheart's resignation. "If your powers are unpredictable, then how can we rely upon you in a fight?" She tucks her blade back in its sheath, folding her arms in brazen challenge to me.
I play at offense to her meager observation. "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."
"I'll take care of this. Everyone, get ready for a shower." Shadowheart commands a manifestation of rain over us. It's not a total resolution, but it's plenty to get us into a working state again, without drawing suspicion.
I shake off, my cloak drenched, but far less... visceral. "Now that we have time, let's see what she has. Maybe we can find some clues about the tadpoles here."
We spread out, the room being what one would expect of a goblin's chamber. Cluttered, covered in bones, and a prominent altar of The Absolute next to the very altar where my cloak rests. Dilapidated furniture lines an alcove, and I decide to snoop through drawers. I make my rounds, finding nothing but webs, animal bones, and random detritus. As I sift through a neglected night table, I pull open a drawer, and a diary slides to the front. Interesting. I honestly didn't realize goblins could write... or read. I pick it up and turn it over in my hand. It's leather-bound and sealed with two buckled straps, though the cover itself is barely hanging on. Gingerly, I unclasp it and flip it open. This isn't Gut's journal; it belonged to a priestess of Selûne. I carefully glance behind me to see where Shadowheart is in proximity to me. She's distracted by a small chest on the ground. I turn my back to her, holding my shoulders over the book as I begin to read the faded pages.
"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 Selûne took me from the Hall of Wonders to serve at this temple as a priestess. Perhaps this was the reason."
The Underdark. This confirms my suspicions. This temple sits over an entrance to the Underdark. There might be healers down there that can help us. Would the Drow give enough of a shit to help? Especially me, a worthless male. Yet another thing Shadowheart can help with: parleying with the Drow, if it comes to it. We should find this entrance before moving on. I snap the journal shut and slip it back into the nightstand.
I turn and face the others. "What have we found? Anything useful?"
Shadowheart stands, fastening a necklace around her neck and slipping it into her mail. "I found an amulet of Misty Step." She gives me a roguish smile, "I'm not sharing though."
A teasing smile crosses my face, and I turn to Astarion and Lae'zel. Astarion holds up a few spell scrolls that he swiftly tucks away, and Lae'zel shakes her head, "We can't expect a goblin to harbor an arsenal, not when they do battle with sticks and swear words."
A gasp escapes me, "Was that a joke?"
Lae'zel bristles, but her mixed expression reflects an eagerness I can't put my finger on.
Smirking, I shake my head. I look around once more and see a corridor that leads further back into the chamber. "I found a journal that alluded to an entrance to the Underdark, somewhere in this temple. It could be useful, if we want to try our hand at finding a healer down there." As if agreeing with my own plan, I make my way down the corridor and find the others following.
The stone walls of the corridor 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. We eventually end up in a chamber, isolated from the rest of the temple. It's as quiet as a crypt, and the darkness that lies within is interrupted by a beam of sunlight pouring in from an opening in the ceiling. It's an intentional alteration, letting light cast itself onto a pattern on the stone floor. As we enter, we kick up dust that takes flight and drifts in languid circles in the air. Particles pass in and out of the light, giving an ethereal atmosphere.
I look down at the pattern on the floor. Four interlocking circles with moons and stars. The message from the journal was a riddle, and this is the puzzle. "Bring the full moons to match the stars, while casting darkness where it belongs at the bottom." The light beaming down illuminates four symbols in the pattern. I get on my knees and press on the stones, until one gently shifts. They're rotating disks. I press down with both my hands and try to shift the disk to move the symbols to match the riddle. My grip can't do it on its own, I need more surface tension.
"Come on, help me with this damned thing." Astarion and Lae'zel kneel around the disks, but Shadowheart stays planted where she is. I glance at her but don't bother asking her for help. As we press, the disk gives and shifts clockwise until the dark moon lands in the illuminated circle, "Shift the dark moons into the light." Diligently we quickly move the disks into place. Just as the last one lands, we hear the tooth grinding 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."
"All I want to know is if it leads to the Underdark, then we can leave."
Shadowheart hugs her elbows, and I make my way over to the opened door. Peeking in, I see a roughly hollowed out cavern, with wooden platforms that lead to a ladder. Damned if it is. I step through and look down to where the ladder leads. I see nothing below, it descends so far that any notion of what's down there is consumed by darkness. The Underdark, I have no doubt. "I'm satisfied. There's no doubt this leads to the land below."
I hear Shadowheart's voice echo to me, "Fantastic. I'm happy for you. Can we go now?"
Lae'zel agrees with her for once, "We are getting too far off course. It's already been a day and we're off solving silly puzzles and playing feckless games with goblins, when we already have a lead to a creche." The notion of the delay fuels her discontent.
I'm just distracting from what we already have on our plate. " You're right, 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 quickly make our way back and 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 lowers 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 Selûne.' 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.