Looking into the murky glow from the crypt beneath them, Halinde Stillmoon arches her neck to hear all she can of the chanting coming from the chamber.
“What do you hear,” asks Kristov. “Is your husband among those chanting?”
The druid scoffs at the notion but listens intently once more. She can hear the sickly sweet intonation of Brother Frynd leading the chants. This time his voice is clearer, not the hazy memory he left for her to obsess over. Thankfully, her husband is not among those uttering the the foul magic.
“Keep word of my husband from your lips merchant,” Stillmoon replies fiercely. “He would not help them, and I also cannot hear him. I do believe Brother Frynd is there. And he has others with him but I can’t tell how many.”
“If the Rust priest is among them he may be trying to raise more undead,” Lucia Talene says. “We should stop this ritual as soon as we can.”
Stillmoon remembers that her holy power can fight against the restless dead even better if she has a holy item. She asks Kristov to use his strange ways once more and pull a holy symbol from his mysterious bag.
“I’ll see what I can find young one,” the merchant replies. As luck would have it, he pulls a strange clay bracelet from the sack.
Looking over it with keen intent, Stillmoon sees that it is indeed of her god, Clay. The item is also strange in that it is hard when laid flat, but can snap to a softer shape around the wearer’s wrist. She hopes that she doesn’t have to use it and lose such a wonder.
As the group gathers at the top of the steps, Stillmoon creeps against the wall trying to hear exactly what Brother Frynd is doing. After a few moments she tells the party, “I believe he is using death magic and is trying to drain someone’s life force.”
Banding together with determination, the party slowly walks down the steps as the moonlight dips out of view. After several moments, they come into a large open chamber well light with braziers and torches.
In the middle of the room are three small stone bridges that cover a shallow pool. Littered around the chamber are loose skeletons and the bodies of the recently deceased. It is quickly apparent that the priest and his minions are behind the undead scourge.
Looking around, each adventurer can see that this was once the crypt of a temple but has since been profaned by Brother Frynd. It is unclear who the temple was dedicated to without further examination.
Standing on each of the three small bridges are men clad in dirty red leathers. The men are wearing red hoods and bear cruel weapons still slick with blood and grime. Further back, the group can see two well-armored warriors bearing the symbol of the Rust faith on their cloaks.
But behind them is the true enemy; Brother Frynd stands cackling in the back of a chamber, candles lit all around him and the body of a man slumped before him. The floor is marked with arcane symbols all around the man’s body. It is clear the party was interrupting a ritual of some kind.
The chamber is lit well enough that the adventurers can clearly see Frynd’s features. The fiendish rust priest is a man of Ailender descent, medium height with noble features. His clothes are stained with rust and red dye and the leather armor he wears is adorned with rusted metal. While most of his body appears normal, his left hand is wrapped in bandages.
The priest has light blond hair with streaks of red throughout. At one time he might have been considered handsome, but now the disdain and cruelty of his nature warps his looks into a loathsome visage.
“Finally, my sweet,” he says to Stillmoon. “Your husband and I have been waiting for you.”
The priest points to a body lying in the midst of a profane circle of arcane runes.
“I was just telling him I’d hate to have to complete the ritual without you here to witness it,” Frynd says cruelly. “I’m going to bind your husband’s soul to this onyx gem unless you give me the location of Maidenholm!”
As her allies look to her in astonishment, Stillmoon’s face is a portrait of anguish. With a wail, she cries out, “No! Please don’t hurt him. I’ll tell you anything.”
The druid priestess begs for her husband’s life and tells Frynd of a temple on a wooded island far to the south. However, she is not telling the truth. While she loves her husband, she cannot let the secret location of Maidenholm be discovered. Thankfully, her words are effective and seem to satisfy the Rust Brother.
“Yes, yes,” Frynd exclaims. “Your words have the ring of truth. They seem to echo what the murals in this crypt implied. I knew traveling here would be worth the detour.”
“You have what you want, now let my husband go!” Stillmoon shouts.
“Of course, of course! We Rust priests keep our word you know,” Frynd says as he helps Stillmoon’s husband to his feet. “A bargain is a bargain and I wouldn’t want people to doubt the Rust Church.”
The priest allows Stillmoon’s husband to walk a few steps and almost get beyond the Iron Guard warriors before continuing.
“While I would not dream of harming a hair on his head after striking our deal, we were given orders to expand our army of restless dead,” Frynd cackles. “Iron Guard! Execute your directives!”
Time almost seems to stand still as Stillmoon leaps into action, fully anticipating a double-cross from the evil priest. Quietly casting a spell evoking the speed of a deer, she races to her beloved just as the massive warriors plunge a blade into his chest. She catches him just as he crashes to the ground when the Iron Guard pulls the sword free.
“Kill them or capture them,” Frynd says to his followers. “Either way they’ll end up working for me.”
With a roar, the two sides launch into combat. Stillmoon escapes several blows from the Iron Guards as she drags her husband to relative safety. She bandages him as quickly as she can, hoping to staunch his wounds before he bleeds out.
Meanwhile, Lucia is able to fire her crossbow with precise aim. She hits one of the cultists before ducking for cover behind a low wall.
Kristov and Bodlo charge up the middle taking on another cultist. In spare moment, Kristov calls out to one of the Iron Guards as he tosses a small pouch of coins to the ground.
“I keep my bargains too warrior!” The merchant says slyly. “Thank you for not hitting my friend like I asked!”
The other Iron Guard looks at his compatriot and roars.
“You blackguard! You betrayer! Do not forget your oaths!” He screams as he punches the first. Kristov allows himself a slight chuckle at the deception, proud he was able to buy Stillmoon time to drag her husband to safety.
On the other side of the chamber, Sturmberg races to action as he tries to close the cap between him and a third cultist. However, that fighter is no fool and continually retreats and pelts the dwarf with missiles from his sling.
Seeing the advantage his men have over the group, Brother Frynd pulls a severed hand from a pouch on his side and levels it at Stillmoon. Uttering some foul arcane words, he causes the hand to come to life and race directly at the druid. The hand tries desperately to claw it’s way to her heart before she is able to cast it off.
However, something goes wrong at the same time. Just after Frynd casts his spell he clutches the side of his head and screams. Turning, he looks at the severed hand with complete horror and fear. (The mighty Rust Priest now has a fear of the undead.)
Toward the entrance to the chamber, Lucia pops up from behind the low wall and takes another shot at the maimed cultist. Her aim is true and the bolt fells the man as she quickly hides again.
On the center bridge, the two Iron Guards close ranks around Stillmoon and wickedly whip about with their blades. Eventually they are able to pierce her armor and she clumps to the ground with a thud.
Kristov and Bodlo try to race over and pull her to safety after slashing through the cultist, but they are no match for the mighty Iron Guards. One of the armored warriors hacks off Bodlo’s right arm, leaving the dwarves builder to bleed out on the cold stone floor. The poor dwarf has now lost both his limbs.
Brother Frynd laughs manically at the carnage. Turning his gaze over to Kristov, he speaks more foul words and the merchant roars in pain as his very blood turns to fire. Kristov tries to leap over the wall into the water but can only writhe amidst the flames before passing out.
Seeing his friends decimated, Sturmberg screams as he slashes through the third cultist. He desperately tries to climb the steps to Frynd’s dias, but the Iron Guards stop him. Frynd speaks once more and the dwarf also bursts into flame before falling.
Seeing her companions is too much for Lucia Talene. Knowing the fight is lost, she tearfully whispers, “I’ll come back for you all” as she races back up the stairs and out in the woods. She can hear Frynd’s dreadful laughing following her all the way to the first light of day before she collapses from exhausting, hoping the priest’s minions don’t find her…
JesseFolk.com 