Alak frowns at Gofran's question. "I... don't think it's that simple. But I can move ahead, in case my ties to this place mean anything to them." Following up on that suggestion, the armiger takes a cautious step through the eastern opening, taking in the space beyond as he stows his greatsword and lights a torch.
Along the southern wall there is a large relief carving of a sunburst made of nails. Instead of typical flagstones, the floor is made up of headstones with names and dates.
As he takes another step into the room, moving the torch in slow arcs before him, Alak suddenly stops and raises his other hand in an arresting motion. "Hold on, something... This headstone has been pried open. And another one..." The light of his torch flickers across a suit of plate armour in the unmistakable style of the Hellknights, standing against the northern wall.
Then the suit of armour moves.
"Ah, I believe we are too late on the 'dead will not rise' part..." Alak tenses, anticipating an attack, but the armoured skeleton makes no aggressive move, only fixing the armiger with its empty orbits.
"Vell, it has not attacked ye... perrhaps it can see ye, and thinks ye arre one o' them, since ye have yerr arrmorr." Gofran guesses, but grabs his greatsword nevertheless.
At seeing the undead creature, Amaya holds her tongue, and keeps close to Karana, and behind Kyrie.
Karana smiles, gives the undead a friendly wave, and caaaaasually raises her shield. She makes no sudden moves.
She whispers nervously, “Amaya, I do not know what to make of this. It is not the corpse’s fault it is animated? And… it is not doing anything. Yet?”
"That... might be true," replies Alak to Gofran's suggestion. "In which case, you should stay back, all of you." He takes a few more cautious steps, illuminating another motionless figure, and another, and another - although these wear far less elaborate armour.
"Oh, hells," breathes Alak after a moment. "They didn't..." He raises his voice slightly, explaining. "I've read about this - it's an anti-necromancy ward, believe it or not. 'Fight fire with fire' sort of thing." He gestures at the armoured skeleton with his free hand. "They must have been volunteers, willing to guard the rest of the order's dead even in the afterlife, in case someone tried to use necromancy on any Hellknight body interred here. A practice used in the early days of the Hellknight orders, but long since abandoned."
He slowly retreats towards the rest of the group, his gaze never leaving the watchful undead.
Alak's words rattle Beau. A ward that raises fallen Hellknights in case someone or something messes with the graves of the other Hellknights?! This would never ever fly in Andoran! "Well, this is messed up. So we either accept the torment their mortal coils are being put through or go forth and undo the ward and take the risk we might fail to put them down. Ugh! I say we take the risk because I'd want you to do the same if I were standing there. Their bones deserve to be buried."
Karana knows nothing about undead… but Beau’s words alarm her. “Oh no! Alek, is it true? That the soul cannot rest as long as the body is a puppet?
“Even if this was a bad life choice, an eternity like this is hell.” Hell Knights. No wonder Kyrie veered from such a path. “I agree with Beau. To leave these people this way, knowing what we know, makes us partially responsible for their plight.
“I do not wish to have this weigh on my conscience.”
Gofran is relieved that it worked. "It vas a vild guess, but I'm happy that it vorrked. I must say that this prractice surrprrises me, as it is rreally strrange."
As Beau mentions his plan, Gofran can't agree with him. "Parrdon my vorrds, Beau, but if Alak is cerrtain that these men or women have volunteerred forr this task, ve have no rright to interrferre. If it vas theirr choice, ve should honorr it."
"Unless theirr unlife poses a thrreat to Brreachhill, I say ve let them continue theirr vatch."
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“Volunteered…” Karana considers this word. And another: “Honor…”
She relives the shame she had felt for many summers and winters. It is a shame she does not need to talk about. She does not wish to tell anyone of it. But if it there is a chance the volunteers could be saved from a fate worse than death…
“I had eighteen summers and winters to ask myself: why were my brother and I the only children sent to the First World to be spared from the Goblinblood War. Being the chief’s children did not make us targets. In war, children are children. Spared because they are harmless. Killed because they are weak.
“I am sure other parents in the village ‘honored’ my father’s choice to send his own children away from war. And I am sure they ‘volunteered’ to fight along my father’s side, instead of taking their own children and fleeing.”
She stares into the empty eyes of the animated corpse.
“I would not use the word ‘should’ to speak of leaving someone like this. This knight may have followed orders, may have felt pressure—if he did not volunteer, a comrade would have—or, simply, he may not have thought his choice through. Who would sacrifice his own eternal soul? And another relevant question: who would not? My guess is that the necromancer who turned these ‘volunteers’ did not volunteer his own body and soul to this evil magic.”
Bea looks back and forth "Choice is not always choice." she says simply, not wanting to get into her own messed up past. "But how does one deduce when that is the case? I don't think we are equipped to talk to the dead... are we?"
"I vas goin' to use the vorrd 'must', but changed to 'should'..." Gofran confesses. "Therre is no vay forr us to know vhat has passed vehn these soldierrs died. Everrythin' is possible in equal amounts. They could have been coerrced, yes, but could also have chosen. That ve vill neverr know. The only hint ve know is vhat Alak said. Everrythin' else is purrely imagination. I say ve let Alak decide, since he is a Hellknight and this is a Hellknight matterr."
"What I know is that if it vas a dvarrven custom orr prractice, I'd like ye to rrespect it."
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Kyrie remained quiet as she deliberates whether or not to say something. She knows why this scene upsets her and why she believes as she does in a particular course of action, but explaining herself would require an openness about her past she has not reached for yet. Still, she feels that these people are trustworthy, and Alak needs to know about the other side of the Hellknights now. She steps forward. ”I would like to say something.”
She takes a deep breath. She has told this story once before, to the historian. She remembers the exact words. ”I do not know my family. I remember Lictor Maris. I was taken by him at no more than five. He said he saved me from mundanity. He said I was touched by the Heavens. He said he gave me purpose. He might have killed my parents. I must have been no more than five. Lictor Maris was a prominent member of the Order of the Godclaw. He believed in their teachings wholeheartedly. He thought he could use them to mold the perfect weapon. I was not the first. He had been trying since the order’s founding. It was founded in 4623.
I trained. I read. He tested me. He punished me. I stopped talking back. I stopped talking. I went months without seeing the sun. He gave me a ring so I would not need to eat or drink or sleep. I did not eat or drink or sleep. He gave me orders. I followed them. I did not feel hate for him. I did not feel love for him. I did not feel gratitude for my captivity. I did not feel envy for the people who were free. I did not feel.”
She points to the people on the other side of the ward. ”I know they might have chosen this. I know they might hate me for trying to free them. I have to try. I cannot leave someone here. I was freed by Iomedaeans. I would like to offer them the same.” She looks to Gofran. ”I understand and respect your point of view. I will not fault you for standing down. I hope you will not fault me for my own beliefs.”
Alak swallows hard as Kyrie tells her story, looking away. His gaze rests on the patient guardians, but only for a moment before he wrenches it to a spot on the floor.
At last, he speaks, voice low and tense. "There must be a reason this practice has fallen out of favour. It is only their bodies that are being used such, but I can well understand your distaste for this kind of ritual - and I share it." He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking out every which way. "On the other hand, someone triggered the ward. I don't know if they are still around or not, perhaps the guardians did their duty and destroyed whoever it was that tried to desecrate the dead."
He nods to Beau and Karana. "I wouldn't know how to undo the ward, but perhaps one of you can figure it out. And if we can pass you off as members of the order, we may not have to destroy these guardians."
“I am happy to help solve this nonviolently,” Karana says. But she wonders, “How might we pass for members of the order?”
"We did find Hellknight trappings upstairs, did we not? Moth-eaten robes, but I doubt that's enough to 'convince' the undead that we are part of their illustrious order.""
Nodding slowly, Alak adds, "The robes probably not, but there were insignia somewhere... And scattered bits of armour in the foyer."
Gofran turns to Kyrie. "I'm sorrry forr yerr rrough childhood, and sorrry that the beliefs o' otherrs verre forrced upon ye. I'll not be foolish to equate orr comparre vhat ye sufferred vith vhat ve arre discussin', but ye should be avarre that by destrroyin' these undead guarrdians, ye vould be the one forrcin' yerr beliefs on them."
"I vill not fight ye in this matter and if needed I'll lend ye my help in destrroyin' them, but I do not agrree vith this."
"Without being able to know if they chose or were chosen for, I side with putting them to rest." she looks up at Kyrie "So I'll help.
As best I can."
Karana chimes in, “It seems that if we do as Alek is suggesting, we can grant the knights their rest without having to destroy them.
“Can we all agree to try disabling the ward first?”
Kyrie listens with furrowed brow as Gofran answers her, perplexed and then curious at his interpretation of her story.
”I do not think I articulated myself well. I care more about what evil is done than beliefs. I think every act is an imposition of will upon the world. I do not fault those that impose their wills. I only may fault what will they impose. I can only follow my heart as I have sworn to the Inheritor. I know that may mean I have to fight. I know that means I may have to constrain. I know that I may learn I was wrong. I take responsibility for all of it.”
She smiles to help keep the mood from getting too serious. She has learned that getting too into her paladin talk can be seen as a bit of a downer or overly serious to others, even if she does not think it so. ”I appreciate discussion. I deliberate and critique myself. I also appreciate that others come with different perspectives.”
With the group reaching a sort of impasse as no true consensus has been found, Beau 'gently' steers the conversation to an end. The torch sputters and crackles as he awkwardly tries to divert the group upstairs. "So, eh, anyway, let's head upstairs and go looking for what we need. Surely we can find that what makes you look like a Hellknight in a former Hellknight citadel, right? Exactly, my thoughts as well."
Being the one with the torch, he turns around and starts making his way up.
With Alak's help, the group finds a number of cloth Hellknight insignia in one of the training rooms upstairs.
In the foyer, watched curiously by the two goblin dogs that Karana hasn't befriended (yet?), some dented and rusted breastplates, greaves and helmets can be pieced together from the dilapidated armour displays - none of them makes for a full suit, but at first glance they look imposing enough.
Karana tries to befriend the other two dogs. In any case, she recalls her training. Metal armor bad. Just the insignia will do, she hopes.
Beatrix would look ridiculous in hellknight armor, the sheer size difference makes her look like child playing in her father's things. "Do you think just wearing an insignia will be enough?"
Knowing well what bugs and fleas and other menaces those dogs carry with them, Beau stays well away from them until Karana has worked her druidic charms on them. He's glad that Bea asks a question with which he can busy himself so that he won't need to get involved with the dogs. "That's a good question. Skeletons generally don't have eyes yet they seem able to 'see', so eh, I say we make sure we look the part as much as we can? Slap on a bracer and a shinguard? Perhaps we can cut up one of those moth-eaten robes if you prefer that?"
Bea is uncertain, but nods and looks for the smallest bits of armor to 'wear'.
Karana thinks robes with insignia will work. Probably?
Wearing mismatched bits of Hellknight regalia, the groups makes their way back into the catacombs, and although the risen guardians seem to scrutinize them closely, they do not attack.
Parallel to the long hall whose floor is made up of tombstones lies an ossuary, its narrow stone walls filled with coffin-sized compartments that stretch from the floor to the ceiling, giving the room a dark, claustrophobic feeling. Most of the compartments are occupied by shroud-covered bodies.
Two doors are set in the eastern wall, one accessible from the ossuary, the other from the hall of graves.
Gofran moves towards the door in the ossuary.
Karana is relieved that the undead guards let the party pass. “I wonder if it is our desire to honor them that gives safe passage; not the guise alone.
“Let us see what we can do for them, that the dead may rest.”
"Once we are done with this, I can come back and help you Kyrie." Bea expresses her desire to help, once laying the guardians to rest is more feasable.
Gofran moves through the southernmost door, revealing an irregularly-shaped chamber, its winding walls lined with rows of large, metal-and-stone lockboxes, shelves and filing cabinets. The lockboxes hang ajar, having been opened and emptied long ago. Gofran's trained eye spots a set of obvious tracks across the dusty floor, suggesting that someone moved about in here, and recently. A pile of ashes and a few melted candle stubs of black wax lie atop a low table in the center of the room.
Alak moves cautiously into the room, looking carefully at the lockboxes, tapping the filing cabinets and running his hands on the underside of shelves. After a few moments, he exclaims in triumph as he removes the false bottom from one of the vaults, revealing a small box, which he unlocks with a key retrieved from around his neck. He tilts the open box for the rest to see - a signet ring is resting on a bed of crushed velvet inside. The armiger slips the ring on a finger, quietly lost in thought for several moments before smiling wistfully.
"I remember sitting on my father's lap and playing with a ring just like this one when I was a boy."
Gofran concentrates on the tracks as the others enter the room. "Carre not to step on the trracks, ya?" He asks, while moving towards the door on the other side of the room. "It appearrs someone enterred this rroom frrom this doorr, then vent forr that doorr..." he points to the door they know will lead back to the room with the undead guardians. "...and then rrun back herre, leavin' frrom vherre it enterred. Perrhaps this someone vakened the undead and then fled?"
He points to the closed door as he watches Alak finding the ring he was looking for the whole time. "Not vishin' to interrupt this merry moment, Alak, but eitherr therre is anotherr rroute out beyond this doorr, orr ve have someone holed in herre..."
Beatrix looks at Alak as he talks about fathers and laps, with an expression that holds pain and anger, with maybe a touch of wistfulness. She quickly shakes it off. "We should go see then, should we not." she looks around at the others with a raised eyebrow.
The door opens into a narrow space cluttered by various storage racks and cabinets. Some are empty, though others still contain dusty banners with the Order of the Nail's sunburst insignia, stylized Asmodean paraphernalia, and other trappings clearly designed for formal funerals. Curiously, in the back of the room, a dirt-walled tunnel opens in the wall and stretches into the gloom. The tracks that Gofran had noticed lead from there to the door leading back into the vaults, and backtrack to return and disappear into the tunnel.
Karana sniff around as she investigates.
"Rright, so the one who vakened the dead is prrobably gone thrrough this tunnel. I'd say ve finish lookin' arround herre beforre ve see vherre this one leads." He then walks back into the room.
Karana stops short of entering. “Oh—yes! Ha, ha. I was so caught up in wanting those ‘volunteers’ to rest…” She actually makes air quotes when saying “volunteers.” Then after trailing off, she finally finishes. “Besides, it is possible the solution can be found here. No stone unturned, as they say.
“Did ‘they’ include tombstones when they said that?” (Again, with the air quotes.)
Bea looks to the curling of Karana's fingers as she talks with a tad bit of confusion, mimicking them, wondering softly if they are supposed to be hooks of some sort.
"I think the portal can't be through there. There would be tracks for all sorts of creatures." so she dutifully follows along with the group to the other parts of the floor they are on, detecting magic as she does so.
A thorough search through the vault and storage rooms reveal several items of interest, but no sign of the necromantic ward - or of a portal of any sorts.
In the vault, Beatrix senses a magical aura, that after careful searching resolves in a number of scrolls tucked underneath a sheaf of loose papers on a shelf in the corner. A silver religious symbol depicting two faces in profile sits atop these like a paperweight.
In the storage room, rolled tightly inside a lockbox, the group finds a large banner with tiny golden Nail insignias sewn into its patterns.
Gofran takes the holy symbol and then passes it to Bea. "This is the symbol o' Alseta, an elven goddess o' doorrs and trransitions. This is perrhaps a clue... it could have been left behind by the one who vakened the undead, so perrhaps ve arre lookin' forr an elf. On the otherr hand, it could be much olderr. Perrhaps this porrtal is connected to Alseta, since She is a goddess o' doorrs?"
"Goddess of Doors? Is there one of windows?" Bea asks of genuine curiosity, as religion was never in her study plans. She rubs the edges of the cool silver with her thumb in wonder.
Gofran investigates the third southern corridor, coming across a cleverly hidden secret door that open into a dark, dusty and oppressive room. Six looming, raises daises stretch from east to west, each bearing a massive stone coffin with a carving of a fully armed and armoured Hellknight lying in stately repose. Upon closer inspection, the details of the various weapons and minor variations in the amrour of the figures distinguishes these tombs. The east wall bears a complex series of inscriptions composed of faintly glowing pale blue runes.
Two of the coffins lie open, their occupants standing next to them in an attentive stance. They turn their empty eye sockets to Gofran as he enters, but make no hostile moves otherwise.
Three of the name plates on the sepulchers are so old and tarnished that they're unreadable, but the other three are still legible, and bear the names Lictor Serafina DiViri, Lictor Rexinald Harvenskein, and Lictor Yorick Mellano.
Beatrix is mulling over elf gods and hellknights before she notices Gofran missing. "Where did he go?"
Beatrix finds where Gofran is and then sees the imposing occupants staring at them. "Um... Hi?"
Karana sees what Bea is up to. Her shield is in hand, for safety, but not her weapon.
“Excuse me,” she adds (more awkwardly than usual). “But we understand you have been alerted, per your duty. Is there an intruder we should concern ourselves with?”
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One of the undead dips its head slightly to stare at Beatrix instead, giving the gnome a good view of the desiccated flesh stretched across its features. The ghostly blue light from the runes on the wall lines one side of its face, adding to the sinister effect.
The other turns its head slowly and stiffly, the tendons creaking, until it looks directly east. It pauses like this for several moments, then the head revolves to its initial position, fixing Karana with its hollow gaze. "In-truder."
Beatrix tugs on Karana's arm and suggests "I think we should... go... anywhere else..."
"Not Us!" Bea says really quickly "We're not intruding, just making sure everything stays Un-intruded... hopefully and especially Us staying un-intruded. Um... have you seen anyone else other than us, she means?"