Archive for March 2, 2013

The Devil’s Riddle: Session 16

Posted in The Devil's Riddle on March 2, 2013 by Carl

Jeden shows Rufus and the others to a fake wine vat in the cellars of the inn, and bids them farewell as they enter the smugglers’ tunnel. The journey back to the catacombs is uneventful.

As they walk Lisandra questions Cayleb about his erstwhile employer. “What was his name? Who did he work for?”

The weaselly fellow shakes his head unhappily. “I told you, I don’t know none of that stuff! I just got hired as muscle, it was just a job, see? I only joined ‘em ten days back. In my game you don’t go asking questions you might not wanna hear the answers to, you know?”

When they reach the catacombs beneath the abbey they find the scene unchanged. The bodies still lie where they fell, blood congealed around them on the dusty flagstones.

Rufus kneels and pulls back the hood to reveal the cloaked man’s face only to recoil in horror. “Light preserve me! What madness is this?”

Lisandra approaches swiftly and peers down. The face she looks into is one she recognizes at once, though it is horribly distorted from the kindly face she once knew. “The High Cantor! But how… ”

Fyn hovers nervously at her elbow. “You know this man?”

Lisandra composes herself. “This man looks like High Cantor Ander. Where I am from, the High Cantor was the greatest of holy men, the closest of all of us to the Source. To the last it was hoped his healing power might turn the tide… but this man cannot be he. His features are so emaciated, so pallid, his body so shrunken… and he cannot be here, in this world…”

Her jaw sets. “I do not understand why this travesty lies here, but I mean to find out. Cayleb, tell me what you know of these tunnels.”

The crossbowman is visibly cowed by the steel in her voice. “Uh, well to the west is where our camp was based. Pretty simple affair, but fortified, you know? Only it was hidden, made to look like it was just part of the tunnels. Some magic of the sort she uses” he says, gesturing at the diminutive illusionist.

“To the east, was nothing special, just a run of tunnels and such, and north… well, to the north…” His eyes dart from Lisandra to Rufus and back again, and he licks his lips nervously.

“Speak.” says Rufus, so quietly it’s almost a whisper.

“T-to the north, well, that’s where the folks we took from the inn were taken, the night before the fair. We were told to kidnap ’em all, the ones from out of town. I suppose they were going to be ransomed or some such. There was a few of ‘em, a bookseller, some others…” He brightens suddenly. “Hey, perhaps we should, y’know, rescue ’em?”

Rufus turns to the channeler, an eyebrow raised in question. “Well Lisandra? Which way?”

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