Tide of Shadows

[Comrade Tortoise]

"I would recommend having the Priest say a Cuthberite prayer over them to put their souls at rest. Fail to do that and we might have ghosts instead of zombies. I would much prefer the later than the former, but would prefer to deal with neither. "

[Rogue 9]

Bartel clambered out of the well with some difficulty, not having much skill at climbing.

"He wants to burn it down?" He sighed. "Well, so do I, but I doubt he's doing it properly. Come along, then." He set off towards the church.

"Eight," he said when he got there, "Hold a moment. There's something I need to see first, presuming it hasn't been wrecked already." He grimaced as he tied a cloth over his face to help arrest the smell and then took a deep breath before going inside to inspect the altar.

[Academia Nut]

Examining the now somewhat more aerated church, what with Eight having punched holes in the walls to get a better draught for the burn, Bartel found perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the whole affair. The altar was almost intact, but it seemed that some great force had split the symbol of St. Cuthbert right down the middle along a hairline fracture.

It was as if something had caused the symbol of the god to tear itself apart from the inside out... but not intentionally. It was more of a... side effect almost, of some great act of evil. His consecrete spell should have still taken effect even on this broken altar though... so the only option was that his spell did work, just that it only dispelled a desecrated of the church. A desecration not bound to the altar.

The madness and suicide of the priest and the slaughter of the congregation, it might have been enough to ruin the altar and unintentionally desecrate the church. Then again, it might also indicate a malevolent priest had cast the spell. Either way, not good.

[Rogue 9]

Bartel exited the church, shaken. "Requiescat in pace," he said in a low voice, tinged with horror. "Cuthbert, forgive them. May these fallen find the peace that eluded them in life in your realm." He bowed his head.

He turned to the others. "Burn it. Such great evil occurred in that building that it can never be sanctified again; better it be destroyed. It is a fitting pyre for the fallen."

[SirNitram]

Volemack, now hiding in human form again, ignored his wound and began grabbing up all the flammable tinder, wood, and other materials to help make sure the fire properly cleansed the building.

[LadyTevar]

Ceridwen also helped gather fuel for the pyre, whispering her own prayers for the fallen.

[rhoenix]

Though he was tired, though he really wanted a nap and a bottle of strong liquor, Fehl was nonetheless still quite willing to help with the efforts of setting a large building on fire, particularly one where he'd had his mind messed with.

Calling on the eldritch power within wasn't difficult, even now - it almost seemed eager, as always, especially if he wanted to manifest it as something destructive. "Alright, all of you might want to move back - I'm gonna start up this bonfire."

[Charon]

"Good to know we're dealing with something out of our league then..." Eight took a few steps back and let Fehl do his thing.

"Do we want to be certain and burn the whole town? Maybe cave in that well before anything else gets out?"

[LadyTevar]

"While I think whatever was down there is already gone, Eight may have a point." Ceridwen added. "Filling in the well is a good idea."

[Rogue 9]

"I agree," said Bartel as he stepped back from the soon-to-be-afire church. He looked over at Volemack. "That looks like a nasty gash. Here, put that down and let me take a look."

[Academia Nut]

At a magical spark from Fehl, the dry tinders caught and quickly began to spread. A gentle wind began to pick up, rapidly fanning the flames without putting them out. As the fire grew, so too did the wind, feeding more and more air into the growing conflaguration as it consumed the only holy but now cursed wood, consuming and incinerating the bodies of the dead. The shadows cast in the night seemed to cavort and dance in a manic, crazed fashion, as if they were celebrating the destruction.

As the wind howled through the town of Blackdell, seemingly conjured up by an angry deity, the halfling leader said, "I think we had better go before everything here is wiped out! I'll send runners to Ashvale to tell them what has happened here and to send for a demolishion crew. The rest of us will lead you to the record wagon."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Thank you" Ophidia said "It will save us the time. And I have a lot of reading to do. It is a good thing I can do it very quickly" He looked over at Naja, who had the Idol hidden in his extensive coils and was hooded up to his full 2 meters in silent warning

"Naja will handle the artifact. It reflects magic back upon the user, and all of us have talismans and other magical effects that might backfire upon us if we touch it. He is more than capable of the task"

[Academia Nut]

Exitting the village as it began to catch alight from the sparks and embers issuing forth from the massive bonfire that consumed the church, the group left on Bartel's cart, his grateful mule glad to get them out of the dead place while the halflings took turns riding along or out on perimeter patrol.

Feeling absolutely exhausted, Fehl collapsed into sleep almost the moment he had the chance to get in the cart, his eyes shutting hard and tight the moment his head thumped against the wood of the cart.

An instant later his eyes snapped open, but he was no longer in the cart. Instead, he was in a twisted realm where there were no right angles to anything and the angles that were present did not seem to add up correctly. The perspective on everything was all wrong, with near things appearing far and far things appearing near. The floors and walls about him seemed to shift in their dimensions every time he looked away. The composition of the 'room', if it could be called such a thing, also continued to change, with doors, hallways, and windows appearing and disappearing at random or changing their material when he was not looking.

However, constantly in front of him was a large, body length mirror of sorts. Peering within its reflective surface, he found himself looking back at him, but he was shadowed over and insubstantial in the mirror, almost like the spirit of the priest that had become the allip he had fought. The incorporeal version of him smiled in a sinister fashion before reaching towards something out of frame.

Fehl could tell that something was wrong, that something sinister was occurring where he couldn't see, but before he could move towards it, he found his hand bound to something. Looking back, he found a chain wrapped around his left arm, reaching back into a yawning grave that had inexplicably appeared in the floor behind him.

[Charon]

Eight glanced back at the burning village and almost seemed to be excited. "This takes me back..."

When Fehl fell asleep, the construct snorted, then looked to the others. "So what was this statue that you found?" The construct was keeping an eye on the wizard as he spoke, obviously not very trusting of him.

[Comrade Tortoise]

The construct did not trust him. Ophidia knew that much. So he decided to play with him a little bit and project his voice, gone was the hiss that normally came out from behind the mask, or the soft spoken voice when the mask was not on. This was the voice he used to wrench power from the universe (if you have seen Excalibur, that is the voice to go for)

"It is probably a depiction of Noxeus, the God of Dreams" he said, making his eyes a bit wide and his voice a tad warbly as he said it "And there is no telling what good, or evil, it brings. Or indeed who wants it. Exciting, yes?"

It was only after he did that that it struck him that the construct was talking to him. Which just should not happen

"Wait.. you are intelligent? Who in the nine hells of Baator build you because I want to do unclean things between their legs...?"

[Charon]

"Lovely. Noxeus, never heard of it, though that isn't much of a surprise. I'd guess it doesn't get along well with Cuthbert."

There was a second long pause before the wizard had his outburst. The construct looked away. "Well what kind of day did you have? Well I got a crappy job offer that got pushed through thanks to sleeping beauty, I met some freaky undead thing, had to fight another golem, and now yet another wizard is collecting his jaw off the floor at the realization of what I am." Eight looked back at the wizard. "Someone you've probably never heard of built me, a long time ago and a long ways from here."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"I have no idea whether or not he is causing anything, for all I know he is capable of protecting us from whatever killed the village. I wont know until I first confirm that yes, this is the correct god, and confirm what was within his sphere of influence and how he ruled over it" He ignored the constructs self-pity.

[Charon]

"I may not know near a damn thing about religions, but I do know enough about simple facts. Things didn't start going bad in the town until they unearthed those pits. Those pits are where we found that statue, thus, the statue is the source of the problem." The construct was quiet for a few seconds as it thought. "Furthermore, wasn't that suicidal priest saying crazy things about shadows and mysterious strangers? Seems to me something got into his head, and that seems to tie in with a god of dreams."

[Rogue 9]

"And the statue of the god of dreams put Fehl to sleep," Bartel observed grimly from the driver's bench as the cart rattled along. "I don't like it, not one bit."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"I may not know near a damn thing about religions, but I do know enough about simple facts. Things didn't start going bad in the town until they unearthed those pits. Those pits are where we found that statue, thus, the statue is the source of the problem." The construct was quiet for a few seconds as it thought. "Furthermore, wasn't that suicidal priest saying crazy things about shadows and mysterious strangers? Seems to me something got into his head, and that seems to tie in with a god of dreams."

"You are committing a non-sequitur, and their problems started before this was unearthed. The halflings died days before, It could just as easily be that someone else does not want us to find this, we will know more about this Gods disposition with a bit of research. And no Father, I dont like it all either. WHich is why Naja caries the statue"

[rhoenix]

An instant later his eyes snapped open, but he was no longer in the cart. Instead, he was in a twisted realm where there were no right angles to anything and the angles that were present did not seem to add up correctly. The perspective on everything was all wrong, with near things appearing far and far things appearing near. The floors and walls about him seemed to shift in their dimensions every time he looked away. The composition of the 'room', if it could be called such a thing, also continued to change, with doors, hallways, and windows appearing and disappearing at random or changing their material when he was not looking.

However, constantly in front of him was a large, body length mirror of sorts. Peering within its reflective surface, he found himself looking back at him, but he was shadowed over and insubstantial in the mirror, almost like the spirit of the priest that had become the allip he had fought. The incorporeal version of him smiled in a sinister fashion before reaching towards something out of frame.

Fehl could tell that something was wrong, that something sinister was occurring where he couldn't see, but before he could move towards it, he found his hand bound to something. Looking back, he found a chain wrapped around his left arm, reaching back into a yawning grave that had inexplicably appeared in the floor behind him.

Well, this was annoying. He'd been hoping for dreams of buxom and easy women, as well as easy liquor - this was decidedly not that. Frowning in annoyance, Fehl pulled on the chain strongly, glaring at the sinister-looking him in the mirror. "That was a dick move, pal. If you're also me, then you should know that's not allowed - there's a good reason there's only one of me in all the world, and hopefully beyond."

[Academia Nut]

When Fehl went to speak, he found his mouth moved but that no sounds emmanated. In fact, he could not even hear the clink of the chain wrapped around his wrist. However, the shadow him in the mirror seemed to understand and drew a finger down across the mirror, causing chips of glass to flake off on Fehl's side of the glass. Despite the utter lack of sound, Fehl could still feel the pain in his ears from the glass being scratched.

The mark was a simple, vertical line, and behind it the shadow Fehl grinned.

At that moment the chain tugged sharply, hauling Fehl back, over the edge of the yawning pit behind him, and he only barely managed to grab on to the now marble floor that edged the grave. The shadow Fehl then grinned broader while a look of murder filled his eyes as a chunk of the mirror fell away, letting him edge an incorporeal hand out through the hole. It seemed that he wanted to get at Fehl and prove him right.

There would be only one of them.

[Rogue 9]

Bartel frowned. "Check him for eye movement. If he's in a light sleep, something's wrong; the rattling in this cart would wake him up."

[rhoenix]

With a silent yell borne of pure effort, armbands normally present in the waking world suddenly appeared around his arms, followed an instant later of pulling free of the chain, and hauling himself to the edge of the grave. He stared into the eyes of his...darker duplicate with a look of pure, cold resolve.

If his enemy used hate and fury to fight, then he would borrow from his abilities as a mage to analyze his opponent, find a weak point to exploit, and destroy that opponent. A smile slowly grew on his face; a smile that only said "I'm truly going to enjoy this," but he himself said nothing yet.

"Come on," he then said silently to his darker clone, as his smile widened. "Show me the power I'm going to take from you."

[Charon]

Eight looked over at the Cleric. "Man could sleep through a building collapsing around him. When he does sleep." The construct paused. "Actually, I don't think he sleeps as often as fleshbags are supposed to."

The construct glanced at Fehl, then back at the Cleric. "You want me to wake him?"