James Davis - Circle of Skulls

Sliding along the wall, he peered around the corner at a slowly dispersing crowd bathed in orange light. The Watchmen present seemed focused on maintaining a perimeter as the bucket line did what it could to quench the fire. A handful of the Watchful Order had arrived, producing spells of water to douse the hottest of the flames.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Jinn sprinted across the street, keeping to the shadows of back alleys and smaller roads. He didn't know what he might find at Pharra's Alley, but he needed a chance to look closer, to find the circle of skulls.

Halfway to Ivory Street, he paused, seeing the bobbing light of a Watch patrol coming toward him. Cursing, he turned back, entering a winding series of alleys behind the shops and homes of the Street of Glances. The dark was more pervasive there, with lanterns spaced at wider intervals. In any other part of the city, it might have been considered a place to avoid after evenpeal. As it was, in Sea Ward, the dangers were less random and brutal than specific and well planned. Good coin was spent to keep certain elements out of the ward, and for the most part, the Watch was quite successful.

Shadows shifted in Jinn's wake, shuffling footsteps barely heard over the low whistle of wind that carried through the alleys. No one approached or made himself known, but Jinn slowed down all the same, walking the center of the alley like a tightrope, blade low and ready at his side. Stalkers at one's back usually indicated an attack from the front as a chosen mark was herded toward a place where brigands could conduct their business undisturbed. As Jinn made out the dim silhouettes of bodies pressed against walls and hiding in doorways ahead of him, he prepared to give whomever it was more of a disturbance than they were likely expecting.

First one then two shuffled into view, figures covered in cloaks and tattered robes. Scraggly hair haloed darkened faces in the lantern light. Jinn stopped, glancing sidelong at the stretch of alley behind him as more figures gathered in front of him.

Curiously they stood in the light, fully visible, their eyes fixed on him, their faces expressionless. It was as though a gang of the homeless and destitute threatened him, a stale smell like dried sewage drifting toward him on the wind. Edging forward, he squinted, picking out details that raised the hairs on his neck and further deepened the mystery he found himself in.

Several bore faded red symbols on the left sleeves of once priestly robes, and many produced short, curved daggers, always wielded in the left hand. Their faces were unfamiliar-he'd rarely taken note of those who ran from his sword-but their allegiance to the Vigilant Order and Asmodeus was unmistakable. Their bright eyes regarded him without emotion, slack jawed and drooling into their tangled beards as they shuffled toward him, only the barest hint of life still shining in what was left of their minds.

"Ahimazzi," Jinn muttered, recognizing those punished by Asmodeus, their souls taken until they could make amends for failing in the devil-god's service. More than a dozen of them stood out from the shadows, lurching toward him, and by what he could hear, at least that many approached from behind. "No time for this."

He bolted forward, blade drawn and angling toward their left flank. The ahimazzi managed little more than faint moans as they slashed their rusted blades at him. He parried their clumsy stabs and thrusts, steel ringing loudly in the alley as he sought to slip through their numbers. He winced at the sound, fearful of drawing a Watch patrol to the alley. A dirty hand gripped his cloak, and he spun, kicking an unarmed woman out of his path as he swung his potential captor off balance. Once free, he blocked another dagger to the cobbles and tumbled into three of the stinking men, tripping one and punching another, though the third opened a burning cut on his arm.

On instinct he angled his sword to thrust through the man's chest but twisted the force of the strike into the blade's pommel, driving it into the ahirnazzi's face. Teeth clattered to the ground as Jinn escaped to the end of the alley, casting a glance over his shoulder at the shocking number of the soulless who had gathered to spill his blood.

"So many," he whispered in astonishment. "All here in one place."

They shuffled after him, their eerie silence making it seem as though a graveyard had given up its dead to roam the streets of Waterdeep. A faint green glow reflected off of shop windows down Ivory Street, signaling the arrival of yet another Watch patrol. Swearing, he looked between the two groups and carefully plucked a small pouch from his belt. The smell of the ahimazzi grew closer as he watched the patrol make its way toward him from the east, judging the distance and muttering a swift prayer as he timed his strike.

As the soulless neared, within a few strides and wheezing, Jinn charged into the street, hurling the pouch into the Watchman's lantern. It burst into a puff of acrid, black powder, killing the light as surprised shouts echoed at his back. He dived into the shadows of a garden outside the walls of a large mansion, ducking alongside bushes as he ran from tree to tree. The Watch quickly lost interest in him as the ahimazzi stumbled into the street. Jinn pressed on as the two groups met, the officers' signal horns calling for reinforcements as he slipped across Flint Street and approached Pharra's Alley from the north.

Catching his breath, he entered the alley from its middle, at the edge of a street lantern's light, and noted the unlit lantern near the House of Wonder. He reckoned spreading rumors had kept the lamplighters from their duty in the supposedly haunted alley and was grateful for the dark, though he could see little of the famed place where the skulls were said to appear. Panting, he knelt down, feeling foolish as he tended to the stinging wound on his arm. The cobbles were cold and lifeless, as they'd been before, though each small clue seemed to draw him back to the place.

"Bogeymen," he whispered, wincing as he tried to clean the wound without water and fearing infection. "What in all the Hells did I expect to find?"

He leaned to his right, his hand, still sticky with Allek's blood, pressed to the cold ground. The brief contact jolted his arm, ripples of pain radiating up to his shoulder as the ground trembled beneath him. He fell back against the wall, sword half drawn and eyes wide as a nimbus of green energy swirled through the alley. It rose from the ground, spinning and flaring with flashes of emerald light. The smell of burning blood stung his nose, his rust-colored handprint sizzling where he had touched the ground.

Nine small spheres distinguished themselves in the circle, forming swiftly, their shapes unmistakable as the circle's flames fragmented, gathering around the skulls in fiery auras. He had seen flameskulls before, undead creatures created as guardians, covered in runes carved into them by their makers, but the nine skulls that turned to face him were smooth and unmarked as if newly torn from their missing bodies.

It appeared as though the circle of skulls had no maker.

"The deva is persistent," one said, its deep, gravelly voice radiating with a power that caused Jinn's head to ache.

"Good," another replied. "He is useless to us otherwise."

Jinn backed away, slowly drawing his sword, wide eyed and waiting for some ancient memory, an insight from his old soul to come rushing forth and advise him as to what he should do. There was something there, hiding in his mind-a sense of familiarity that resisted his attempts at recollection, like a whispered rumor from his soul. The skulls floated closer, though they did not stray far from the gates of the House of

Wonder.

"We cannot trust him," yet another spoke, a high, shrieking voice that set Jinn's nerves on edge. "We must kill him now!"