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D&D 03-Oath of Nerull Page 5
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"Sister Ember," said Cestra, "even now, most of the surviving elders are looking into this matter, attempting to root out those who would do us harm. So, too, are our most trusted instructors. We anticipate soon putting this terrible event behind us."
Ember said, "I don't think you understand the magnitude of the threat that faces us. Volanth chapter was wiped out to the last! I am the only survivor. See? I wear Loku's Bracers, relics of the founder of our chapter. There is no other to wear them now. But there is more; on the road between Volanth, we were assaulted by a new nest of these Nerull cultists. They seem to be everywhere!"
Elder Cestra paused, looked at Vobod, and said, "Nerull cultists? Is this something new?"
Vobod nodded quickly, saying, "Yes, yes, we knew this. Some who oppose us give allegiance to that old god. Forgive me Cestra, if I do not keep you appraised of every latest development. It is a minor detail. More important are the events of this morning: We discovered and destroyed their last stronghold here in New Koratia."
Ember gasped. "Their last? But why did some old cult wish us harm in the first place? What are we to them?"
Cestra turned back to Ember and said, "Elder Vobod is in charge of the Enabled Hand's response to the threat. He leads with the other elders in this matter. I was chosen as the lone elder to keep the Motherhouse running in the meantime." She smiled, turning to face Vobod again. "But, Elder Vobod, please speak on. Sister Ember has endured much and deserves to know the whole story."
"Very well," Vobod responded. "Apparently a cleric of Nerull called Sosfane was behind the plot to destroy the Enabled Hand, Sosfane led a group of disaffected monks from the south, who are known to walk paths of evil. But Sosfane was slain in her putrid lair below New Koratia this very morning, as well as all those who followed her. I am only now waiting for confirmation from Elder Breshimon, who leads in the field. With Sosfane dead, our order is once again assured of peace. It was she who masterminded the entire threat. It only remains to mop up scattered bits and pieces of the enemy and conclude the investigation."
Cestra, looking from Vobod to Ember, said, "So now you know. Everything will soon be right again."
Ember felt dumbfounded. After all she had seen and the days she spent on the road to bring warning to the Enabled Hand, she was finding it difficult to accept that everything had already been taken care of.
She said, "Elders, surely there is more to this—what did this Sosfane have against us? Was she crazed, or was she acting for some deeper purpose?"
Vobod shook his head. "Who can say why? She is dead now, so we cannot know the truth from her lips. Our investigation will, of course, reveal her motivation in time. Please allow me to contribute in some way to the final eradication of these monsters."
"I'm afraid there is nothing for you to do. We understand your desire to be useful in this effort, but we cannot manufacture a threat from nothing. The matter is already resolved."
Cestra offered, "You are welcome to stay on the grounds as long as you like. When your grief is assuaged, you can remain here at the Motherhouse if you like. Perhaps you would care to teach for a while? We always welcome sa bum nim."
Ember wiped her forehead and said, "No, thank you Elder Cestra. At least, let me think on it. Really, all I want is to talk to my old friend Kairoth. Elder Kairoth, I mean. Is he involved in the effort against the cultists?"
Elder Cestra looked distressed.
Elder Vobod sighed and said, "I'm sorry, Ember. Kairoth was one of the first slain by the enemy. It was his sacrifice that alerted us to the enemy's true nature. It was a terrible loss for all of us; we still grieve."
"Slain? But when?"
"He was taken from us some four weeks past. Elder Vobod, here, found his body," said Cestra.
Vobod nodded. "A harder blow I've never felt. Kairoth was one of my dearest friends. And it was on the Day of Fasting, too, Kairoth's favorite yearly festival. He will be remembered always," vowed the elder.
"But..." stammered Ember. Something was wrong. Her last letter from Kairoth was clearly dated three days after the Day of Fasting. Ember nearly flushed—she almost betrayed her reaction.
She nearly called Elder Vobod a liar.
In the end, she held her tongue. Something was very, very wrong. Until she knew who to trust, Ember decided it would be best to remain silent.
A sharp rap on the door roused Hennet from meditation. He looked at Nebin, who was deep in a dusty tome, penning notes in the margin with an inked quill. The gnome had purchased the volume on their way back from the Duel Arcane preliminaries. Both he and Nebin had qualified, despite Nebin nearly disqualifying himself. After the preliminaries, he and the gnome secured lodging at the Cuttlestone Inn.
Hennet sighed; Nebin wasn't going to get the door. The sorcerer stood, arranged his cape, and answered. It was Ember and the dwarf, Brek Gorunn.
Is she here to see me? wondered Hennet.
He stood unspeaking for a moment, tongue-tied, before he managed to say, "Come in. How did your visit to the Motherhouse go?"
"Seemed to go well," Said Brek Gorunn. The dwarf looked at the monk. "To me, at least."
He had the air of someone who knew more than he said.
Ember entered and clasped hands with Hennet, then said, "I apologize for interrupting your afternoon, but besides Brek Gorunn I don't know anyone else I can trust in New Koratia, except for you two."
Nebin closed his book at this declaration, curious to hear more.
"Us two?" repeated Hennet. "What about the Motherhouse? Surely the Enabled Hand is trustworthy."
"Something strange is going on there. With your indulgence, I'd like to tell you."
Hennet said, "Of course!"
He saw the gnome hide a smirk behind his book, but he didn't care. If Ember wanted to tell him a story, he wouldn't deny her.
Ember spoke, telling of the visit to the Motherhouse. She related how the elders assured her that the threat to the order was eliminated, though she could scarcely credit the news. She further explained how her old friend, Kairoth, was lost to that same threat, on the Day of Fasting.
"So," continued Ember, "I have a difficult time explaining this. I didn't show the letter to the elders, or even mention it; caution warned me against revealing my knowledge."
Everyone clustered close around Ember as she opened her satchel and extracted a leather parchment sleeve, of the variety used by couriers to send messages overland.
She said, "I received this letter from Kairoth after the Day of Fasting. And look—" She pointed to the wax seal on the leather sleeve. The seal was broken, but the date pressed into the wax could still be read. "See the date? This letter was sent three days after the Day of Fasting, but according to Elder Vobod, he found Kairoth's body on the Day of Fasting. Kairoth isn't dead, or wasn't, yet the elders lied about it."
Hennet felt a surge of excitement over the mystery and treachery revealed by the date on the letter. He loved puzzles; of course, never before had he dealt with a puzzle that involved murder.
"If they lied about this, what else did they lie to me about?" concluded Ember.
Nebin shrugged and said, "You know your own order better than we. Perhaps a simple mistake is to blame?"
Hennet, seeing Nebin's tack, said, "Or perhaps the message is incorrectly dated?"
Brek Gorunn cleared his throat, then said, "Could it be that, denied your vengeance against those who destroyed Volanth chapter, your mind seeks enemies in the shadows where there are none?"
"I would like to believe any of those explanations," replied Ember, "but it is not in the nature of an Enabled Hand elder to mistake the date of the death of a member, or for an elder to mistakenly date a letter. Something rings false."
So saying, she removed a single piece of parchment from the leather sleeve. Neat script covered the parchment, apparently the last message of Elder Kairoth.
"But, it does no good," she continued. He mentions no enemies of the Order, Nerull, or anything out of the ordinar
y."
Hennet reached for the letter and aksed, "May I?"
Ember handed the letter to him. Hennet read it aloud.
Sister Ember,
It has been too long since you last visited the Motherhouse. The gardens are in full summer bloom. The Day of Fasting is three days past, and we missed your presence. Sometimes the smell of the flowers is so strong it puts me in mind of the old days. Remember when we explored below the city, looking for that old temple? We spent three (3) whole days down there; I wonder if you remember? Well, it hardly matters, I suppose. Things go on much as they ever have. The Motherhouse is training a new crop of novitiates, though 1 fear some of the class are less then apt to the lessons of the order.
Most sincerely,
Kairoth of the Enabled Hand
Hennet read the letter through twice. Random letters were smudged along the bottom of the paper, apparently thoughtlessly scribbled letters as one might make when distracted, but still holding the quill. They seemed out of keeping with the neat script of the rest of the letter.
He pointed them out to Ember and asked, "Do these mean anything to you?"
"Merely doodles, I think," she said. She ran a hand through her cropped, curled hair. Hennet wished it was his hand, and the thought so distracted him that he almost missed what she said next. "But something else is odd. I didn't give this letter a second thought, because I wasn't looking for anything strange. On second glance, it seems odd for Kairoth to mention that old adventure. We have talked of it often enough, but it was long ago. It's an old story, and out of context. We spent less than a day looking for the temple below the city, as well he knows. Certainly nothing like three days."
Nebin volunteered, "Is he getting old and forgetful?"
Ember replied, "No, his mind is as sharp as ever. I can't imagine why he would make such a special point of incorrectly recalling the number of days."
"Maybe three is somehow important?" ventured Hennet.
Nebin, who was sitting at the table, said abruptly, "Maybe it's part of a cipher. Gnomes often use ciphers. Some of the oldest writings inscribed by our ancestors are in the form of ciphers. That's how they're kept safe from being read by the wrong people. Without the key, they're incomprehensible."
"The key?" asked Brek Gorunn, uncertain about the gnome's tack. "Wouldn't a simple spell do the trick?"
"No," answered the gnome. "Magic can be broken by magic, revealing the hidden message even it it's in a language the reader doesn't understand. But if a mundane cipher is used to encode a deeper meaning within the letters, there is no magic to dispel. The letters are merely letters. They have a double meaning only for the person who knows the key."
The gnome reached for the letter, which Hennet surrendered.
"Now, even the simplest cipher must have a key," continued Nebin, pontificating. "Once you know the key, you can apply it to the cipher and read the hidden message. Maybe '3' is the key to a quick cipher Kairoth came up with. He expected Ember would take special notice of the number three because it is incorrect, as he well knew. So, what is the simplest cipher he could have used? I think a substitution cipher."
The gnome fell silent. Hennet flushed with mild jealousy—he was the one who liked puzzles, yet Nebin was apparently well versed in such things. Hennett had never heard of a substitution cipher.
Growing more excited as he was drawn into the puzzle's challenge, Nebin continued, "A popular cipher uses only the first letter of each sentence to spell out a secret message. But every gnome child knows that one. Perhaps the message is secretly polled out using every third letter of each sentence? Hmm .. ." He quickly ran his finger along the text and read, "She...emmso...lie...osi."
"Gibberish," said Brek Gorunn, and Hennet had to agree.
"Wait, maybe it is the third letter from the end of each sentence!" The gnome began reading backward, but quickly came up with the same sort of nonsense.
Brek Gorunn shook his head. Nebin's face fell. They all stood glumly looking at the letter.
Hennet cleared his throat and offered, "Does the number three have any meaning if you apply it somehow to the doodles?"
He still felt the random letters were important, but this whole business of ciphers was new to him.
Nebin ran his fingers along the smudged letters. He said, "The letters are 'phhwphlqwkhwhpsoh.' If it is a substitution cipher, it should be that each letter here is actually three letters farther along in the alphabet of the language used for the coded message. I would assume that's the same language used in the rest of the letter."
The gnome hunched over the table, grabbed an inked quill from those he was using earlier, and muttered under his breath as he wrote on the back of the letter.
"Right, that would give us 'skkzskot znkzksvrk.'"The gnome scratched his beard. "Still nothing."
Ember broke in, "Try it the other direction." She leaned forward, eager to see the gnome's handiwork.
Nebin paused, then slowly wrote, one letter at a time, "mee tme int het emp le."
Hennet drew in his breath quickly. Despite his feeling about the doodles, he was surprised when he was vindicated. There was a secret message!
Nebin said, "Hennet, we should have listened to you right off.
It says, 'Meet me in the temple.' Kairoth didn't want anyone to read this but you, Ember!"
Ember clapped Hennet and the gnome on the back and said, "I have been traveling with masters of secrets all this time. How did you know?"
Hennet shrugged and smiled.
Nebin absorbed the praise and responded, "As I said, gnomes like ciphers. We learn them as games in our childhood. Now you know our secret. Well, actually, only gnome children would use ciphers as simple as this, but humans have to start somewhere."
The gnome laughed and twirled his inked quill.
"Kairoth can only mean the temple he talked about in the main message," said Ember.
"Then let us prepare to venture below the city," declared Brek Gorunn, ever practical.
"When Baron Dammeral founded New Koratia four hundred years ago, I wonder if he knew about the ancient city that once stood here?" wondered Nebin.
Hennet, Ember, Brek Gorunn, and Nebin trudged through a sewer tunnel. They had prepared and rested for most of the previous night, then started before dawn. Even though Hennet and Nebin had a free day before the first round of the Duel Arcane, Ember wondered if the two shouldn't be practicing their magic. She felt guilty for asking them along. She suspected that Hennet had something of a crush on her, and she hoped she wasn't trading on that affection. On the other hand, Ember presumed that Nebin tagged along on the jaunt into the sewers because of his relentless overconfidence.
"What ancient city, Nebin?" asked Ember.
The wizard enjoyed showing off his knowledge and she didn't mind indulging him.
"The city of New Koratia was established when the original city of Koratia burned in The Conflagration of Tael."The ruins of Old Koratia still sat, fifteen miles to the south, where the River Delnir emptied into the Southern Sea. "Actually, even back then the ancient city was a ruin, its name lost," continued Nebin, a pedantic edge creeping into his voice. "It was only discovered because of a few surface collapses when Dammeral began building, revealing an old tunnel system. Dammeral thought the tunnels would provide a perfect foundation for a 'modern' sewer."
Ember remembered hearing something like that when she'd earlier lived in New Koratia. She also knew that the tunnels were rumored to be part of an ancient temple complex dedicated to an infernal god. The monk decided to keep that tidbit to herself if the gnome didn't already know it. Nebin had proved a bit flighty, and she didn't want to cultivate his fear. Anyway, she didn't think they had much to worry about. Overall, the tunnels made good sewer conduits.
The stench was palpable. Nebin was most affected by the odor. He claimed it was because, being the shortest, his head was closest to the liquid that swirled down the center of the brick tunnel. Soon enough, however, they left the sewers and their
stink behind, as they entered the older, pre-Koratian tunnels. Brek Gorunn carried a lantern, though he carried it only out of courtesy—as a dwarf, he could find his way in the dark without aid from artificial light.
Ember provided directions, drawing on the memories of her previous trek. The tunnel turned a few times then sloped down ward. At times they felt cooler air on their faces, issuing from dark, side passages. Though they saw many branching corridors—some with stairs, some narrow, and others broad—Ember kept to the passage originally selected, which continued to lead steadily but gradually down.
The corridor finally emptied into a broad hall. Besides the passage they arrived on, two other tunnels departed the hall.
Directly opposite them was a high, wide arch scribed with many runes. Heavy stone doors, likewise scribbled with signs—or perhaps graffiti—barred passage, but one of the doors was slightly ajar.
This is the place Kairoth and I found during our expedition," said Ember. She was relieved to have found it so easily. "We translated runes on the arch and door as best we could. They speak of reverance for the unseen, sacrifice, and power. We dubbed it a temple, though I suppose it could be something else. We never got past the doors."
"They're open now," observed Brek Gorunn. "Where is Kairoth? Perhaps he got tired of waiting."
The dwarf moved forward to examine the stonework of the arch, nodding in appreciation.
Where was he, indeed? Ember wondered.
She didn't let her uncertainty color her features or voice when she said, "Perhaps he only checks this place periodically. He may have left a message."
She began searching the floor of the hall near the arch. Nebin and Hennet joined her. The light of the lantern held by the dwarf cast their shadows long across the floor of the chamber and up Into the narrow tunnels.
"Here," said Hennet. Ember saw that the sorcerer squatted near one corner. "A ring of stones. Looks like a fire ring, and used recently."
Hennet reached into the pit and disturbed a layer of ash.