Брюс Корделл - Oath of Nerull

Yes, I have it bad, he cajoled himself.

Brek Gorunn sat at the small table that was now piled with scrolls, a ring, and other oddments they had taken from the mummified creature below the city.

He said, “We’re better, thanks to Moradin’s grace. How fared your duel?”

Nebin pushed past the sorcerer and said, “Could you expect any less than total victory? Hennet’s foes were slipshod; their magic was weak. He could have called light and won his duels. In fact, I think that’s exactly what he did at least once. But me! I faced such challenges! Why, one evil shrew took direct control of my mind. If not for a supreme effort of will—something I’ve practiced—I’d still be in her power. I’m surprised they let someone so awesome compete at our level.”

“A supreme effort of will and my help, you mean,” interjected Hennet.

“Right, I was coming to that.”

“In any case,” continued Hennet, “we’re both slated for the finals in two days. But, what about you?” He fixed the man on the cot with his direct gaze, saying, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Elder Kairoth. Ember speaks well of you.”

Kairoth’s hair was shaved, his features chiseled as if from granite, and he had a wiry build. He wore a ring on one hand, the same ring Ember retrieved from the pile of ashes in the temple.

Ember said, “Elder Kairoth, please tell them what you’ve told us. These are the two who helped us find and retrieve you from below the city.”

The man weighed Hennet, then Nebin, with a look. Apparently, they passed.

The man said, “It is good to make your acquaintance, young friends. You have my deepest gratitude. You have allowed one last chance for redemption for the Enabled Hand.”

Kairoth sat up straighter and took a drink from a small cup.

“Brek Gorunn has healed me of my physical hurts,” he continued, “but I remain spiritually weakened, for now. My life energy was nearly snuffed out. Others were not saved as I was. The Order was betrayed.”

“Betrayed?” asked the gnome.

“I will start at the beginning. Five weeks ago, a student of mine, Adeva Silverhair, disappeared. At first it seemed nothing, but when a search of her quarters revealed the possibility of foul play, I became concerned. It seemed as if there had been a struggle, and I found blood. I was especially distraught because I scolded Adeva for her impudence earlier that day. Perhaps my harsh words left her open to poor choices. I do not know.

“Regardless, when I went to Elder Vobod and told him of Adeva’s disappearance, he laughed. He said Adeva had merely gone away on a trip. Then he gave me a terrible look, and told me that if I didn’t want to see where she’d gone, I’d better forget about it. Can you imagine, an elder threatening another? That was when I penned my message to Ember. I hid a secret message in the letter, in case the courier was intercepted.”

Ember shook her head. “And I completely missed it. I took the message at face value.”

Kairoth touched her shoulder. “You deciphered the message when you needed to.”

The elder continued his story. “That night, there was an attack. Fully ten of the fifteen instructors and three of the quorum of five elders turned on the rest. Vobod led them, though he referred to some mysterious, greater power. I escaped because I was already on my guard from Vobod’s earlier theatrics. The attacks were constrained to the instructors’ wing—no students or novices were involved. They may not know that the order is now in the hands of a malevolent force.”

“How can they not know?” asked Hennet.

“Because the students, while they might be curious about the terrible ruckus in the night, would never dishonor an instructor with questions about things that were not their business.”

“Who were the elders you spoke with, Ember?” asked Hennet. He worried to think of her having set foot in the place, if what Kairoth said was true.

Ember shuddered. “Vobod himself. You see, I knew he had lied to me.”

Brek said, “Could Vobod’s uprising have anything to do with what happened in Ember’s chapter? There, it was red-masked cultists who serve Nerull.”

“Yes, red-masked cultists who seemed strangely proficient in martial crafts,” mused Ember.

“Unsettling. Why is the Order of the Enabled Hand consuming itself from the inside?” questioned Kairoth.

“I’ll help you find out,” promised Ember.

Brek nodded his aid.

“Kairoth, how did you end up below the city?” asked Nebin.

“Ember and I discovered those doors years ago. The designs I remembered on the entrance to the temple matched the symbols carried by Vobod on his ring. I thought it would be profitable to examine them more closely. I didn’t expect to be attacked down there. Had I known that evil was awake in that old sanctuary of death, I would have chosen a safer place for Ember and I to rendezvous.”

Ember sighed. “What can we do now?”

“Because Vobod is a respected elder, he can deny any claim we make concerning his illegitimacy,” said Kairoth. “It will be our word against his.”

Hennet steeled himself and said, “Then we must find out the truth. It is up to us to see justice done.”

“Us?” asked Ember. “This is not your fight; you have your duel. You’ve already aided us more than is right. I feel bad enough for that, though without your help Kairoth could well be dead.”

Hennet shook his head. “I’d like to think that we have all become friends. As friends, let Nebin and I help. We have a few days before the final rounds of the Duel Arcane.”

Nebin gulped. Hennet shot him a raised eyebrow. The gnome nodded slowly, seeming to agree reluctantly. But Hennet knew that if the gnome really didn’t want to help, nothing he did could convince Nebin otherwise.

Ember paused, then said with a glad voice, “We accept!”

She rewarded Hennet with another smile, and Hennet felt his eyes glaze over just a little.

Nebin fixed Kairoth, then Ember, with a penetrating look, and said, “All right, what’s the next step? Back down into the catacombs, or do we spy out the Order to learn what Vobod’s up to?”

Kairoth said, “Ember, Brek Gorunn, and I were just discussing that very question. I am loath to return to the catacombs so quickly. I believe we should enter the Order in secret, this very night. Perhaps we can learn what motivates Vobod and what foul force is aligned with him. Perhaps, as Brek Gorunn suggested, the cult of Nerull is active in all this, but 1 don’t know how. I thought those cultists were all purged and gone. We must find out the truth, and the Order is the place to start.”

Hennet said, “But, after all, maybe the old temple truly is the source of the evil. Those unquiet corpses were once in service to a death god, perhaps Nerull. And now that I think on it, what did you mean when you mumbled ‘the Oath’ as we rescued you?”

Kairoth looked uncertain.

“I vaguely recall it,” he admitted, “but it eludes me now. It was something the death priest wanted me to repeat, but I wouldn’t do it. All I know is that the words themselves were hideous, ghastly syllables.”

Feeling as if he had scored a point, Hennet continued, “Then we should consider going back down there first.”

Kairoth shook his head. “You may he right. But my instinct tells me that those unquiet dead are only a side effect. They are not the source of our troubles. They are only a symptom, one that must eventually be dealt with, too. If the catacombs in truth become our final destination, we shall only learn that by dealing first with Vobod.”

Hennet couldn’t argue with Kairoth’s logic. Plus, he was tired.

He said, “If we’re going tonight, we should rest. Nebin and I expended much of our arcane strength at the duel, and we need sleep. And, pardon me for saying so, you still look a little pale. It’s only middle afternoon now. We could be rested and up again before the night is spent.”