As the sovereign speaker moves to speak, Gil holds up a hand, "Hold, Kazadar, I believe I recall this."
"Ah, good. This helmet doesn't protect my memory."
What is my doom?
Your doom inescapable.
What is my doom?
Your doom is the Keeper, the Lord of Death.
What is my doom?
It is the Reaper of Souls, for all souls are its to take. It is the Weaver of Fate, for your fate is woven from its will and its alone. It is the Fiery Scourge, for it destroys all and knows no pity.
What is my doom?
It is to live, and to die, and to know that you are always the Keeper's.
Ezreal whispers, "Go on. I remember some sections if you stumble, but not the whole thing."
Gil runs through what she remembers mentally, then shares it with the others at a whisper. Satisfied that they all agree with the response - those that care - she turns to the questioner:
"What is my doom?"
"Your doom inescapable."
"What is my doom?"
"Your doom is the Keeper, the Lord of Death."
"What is my doom?"
"It is the Reaper of Souls, for all souls are its to take. It is the Weaver of Fate, for your fate is woven from its will and its alone. It is the Fiery Scourge, for it destroys all and knows no pity."
"What is my doom?"
"It is to live, and to die, and to know that you are always the Keeper's."
She waits, breathing shallowly, for the judgment of the corpses.
"Correct," wheezes the question-master.
"Your next question shall come from Brother Narn." There is a crash as a tomb-top falls to the floor. "Brother Narn meditated upon the Five Precepts of Eternity for many months. Months turned to years while he considered. During this time he refused all food and drink and sat, unmoving, out upon a bare rock alone in the wilderness. Eventually he found true understanding and shucked off his fragile mortality, and he rose from that rock transformed." The corpse that steps forward appears to be somewhat more steady on its feet. Its long, wispy white hair hangs down to its waist. "Brother Narn, your question..."
"I sat upon the Throne of the Weepers," whispers Brother Narn. "Why is it so called?"
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"Because sitting on a cold f$%+ing rock for that long gives you bleeding hemorrhoids the size of an ogre's fist," Janosz mutters to himself.
"Because sitting on a cold f~*~ing rock for that long gives you bleeding hemorrhoids the size of an ogre's fist," Janosz mutters to himself.
Gil remembers something about the Dhakaani Empire, and Kazadar vaguely recollects a nursery rhyme that seems pertinent. Ezreal has most of the details, but still a few missing...
"In all seriousness..."
Maybe the pressure got to Ezreal this time, but it takes Janosz and his knowledge of folk tales from the orcish-goblinoid ascendancy to fit the clues together.
"Of course," says Ezreal, "The Throne of the Weepers is not so called because of its impact upon rectal venous structures, but because it is where Emperor Gazaag of the fifth Dhakaani dynasty executed his entire family when they rebelled against him. His captured wives, sons and daughters were led into a specially dug chamber without food and water and the boulder placed above it to block the exit. It was said that their cries for help and mercy lasted for a week before they all finally died, and the place became their tomb. But the last weeper was the emperor himself. According to legend he sat alone upon the rock listening to his family dying, until the last of them fell silent. He never took another wife and had no more children, and it is said that he died soon after of a broken heart. And so the fifth dynasty ended."
Brother Narn nods his assent. "A lesson on impermanence and the futility of mortal desires," says the inquisitor sagely. "And now for your final question."
The is a chill breeze as a ghostly figure rises from a third tomb, drifting through the stone as if it wasn't there. Its shape is twisted and distorted, but appears to be an elderly female human dressed in robes. "Aerin Calorta was the Professor of Necromancy at the Academy of Magic. She made many breakthroughs in understanding the connection between magic, negative energy and the bindings of the soul to the body. In the end she applied these learnings to herself, becoming a bodiless soul untrammelled by mortal limitations. Professor Calorta, your question, please."
"The Islands of Possession - where are they and what are they?" whispers the ghost.
"Hmmm..." Janosz takes a few steps back, clearly bothered by the ghost's appearance. "I dunno if I've ever heard of such a place."
Ezreal vaguely recalls a lecture in magical theory that referred to some islands, which suggests they are not a place. Unfortunately it would appear he was dozing through most of it, which probably explains why he never specialised in necromancy.
Janosz thinks that they might be somewhere in the Lhazaar Principalities, but Khazadar sets him straight. Ezreal's half-remembered lecture triggers Gil's memory, and she recalls a largely-discredited theory that the soul resides within specific organs of the body - namely, the brain, heart, liver and gonads - and that these "islands" were the source of the living essence of a creature. In necromantic circles, these became known as the "islands of possession" since seizing magical control of them allowed the creature itself to be controlled, and possession magic was at one time thought to operate through them. In the end empirical experiments and the inherent philosophical absurdity of the notion of "sub-souls" in each organ led to the theory being abandoned for the "unitary soul hypothesis" which is the current orthodoxy.
Gil states her answer clearly to the expectant undead. There is a pause, and the ghostly necromancer gives her assent. "You have been found worthy," croaks the inquisitor. As the other undead shamble back to their tombs, it continues, "Beyond is the Inner Sanctum. But in order to pass the Gates of the Dead and enter it, you must receive the Keeper's blessing." It raises its bony arms and a magical emanation washes over the adventurers.
"Go. Meet your fate." It slumps back in its chair and falls silent.
"Nice. Let's move on before the professors change their minds." Janosz briefly pauses as he walks past the now-inert body by the table, absentmindedly hefting his warhammer. But he changes his mind and moves on.
"Next up is Gath himself, right?"
The group weave between the teams, hoping to make some progress in case an undead decides to quiz their knowledge of Galifarian architecture. The sepulchre ends in an open arch. Beyond is a short corridor, ending at a stone door, filled with an unnatural darkness.
"Does anybody have a stick to, you know, prod the darkness? I'm uncomfortable just stepping into the unknown."
Gil muses, "I wonder if this is some sort of boundary to somewhere else rather than mere darkness."
"No, wait. Feel that draw? Something pulling you gently, seductively onward? As we approach, it will be more insistent, I wager, as our life force gets closer. That is a negative energy field. Crossing it, if there is anything behind it to cross to, could kill any living thing making the attempt." She looks at the cleric, "I find negative energy to be more in the realm of the divine. Any ideas?"
That's what I was referring to with the first line. I guess one of use can just try it. *gulp*
"To pass the gate, we needed the keeper's blessing. We have only to try to pass now that we have received the blessing. As fas as the first to go, it shall be me unless there are objections."
However, Ezreal is sure this is NOT a gate to Mabar. There is a negative energy emanation, but the door looks like a door.
"You need not commit your whole body to the test, I believe. Were it me, I would simple reach in with one hand and see what affect the energy has."
"Evil or not, this is a place of faith. The host has seen to my well-being well enough so far, I've no reason to doubt them now. If you want, you can tie some rope to me, but be advised, it may take more than one of you to drag me back if the host calls for me."
Kazadar takes a step through the door.
Kazadar steps into the corridor and walks up to the door. The darkness swirls about him hungrily, but it simply washes over and does not harm him.
"Well it is not a planar gate. As far as I can tell it is just an energy screen in the doorway. Kazadar seems unharmed. Onward."
The group follow Kazadar in. They feel the cold of the negative energy but are unharmed. The door faces them.