As Sethius and I leave the Black Lotus, we head towards the city gates, discussing the information we gathered. He tells me about the disappearances and the strange rumors about the old church. I can sense his resolve as we make our way through the dark, narrow streets of the lower district. He walks with purpose, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready for anything.
The path to the city gates is treacherous, with uneven cobblestones and alleys that lead to dead ends. But Sethius knows these streets like the back of his hand, and we make good time. The sounds of the city slowly fade away as we reach the outskirts, where the woods begin.
As we enter the woods, the darkness envelops us. The only light comes from the stars above and the occasional flicker of a torch on the city wall. The sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling underfoot is the only noise. The air is thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. Sethius moves with the same determined pace, his senses alert for any danger that might be lurking in the darkness.
We finally reach the old church, which looms before us like a dark and ominous sentinel. It stands in a small clearing surrounded by tall trees. Its once pristine white marble exterior is now stained and weathered by years of neglect. The intricate carvings and statues that once adorned the façade are now chipped and faded. Vines and moss creep up the walls, almost as if the building is being consumed by nature.
As I look closer, I can see that the windows are all broken, with only a few jagged shards of glass remaining in the frames. The roof is partially collapsed, and the wooden beams that support it are rotting and covered in mold. The once grand entrance is now blocked by rubble and debris, making it impossible to enter through the front door.
The sounds of the woods seem to disappear as Sethius approach the church, as if the old building is sucking up all the noise around it. The only sound I can hear is the rustling of leaves as a light breeze blows through the trees. The darkness of the night only adds to the ominous feeling that surrounds the church, as if it's a dark secret hidden away in the woods.
I can't help but feel a sense of unease as I gaze upon this abandoned building. It's as if the church is alive, watching us with a critical eye, judging us for daring to approach it. It's a strange feeling, as if we're intruding upon something sacred.
Sethius doesn't seem to be affected by the eerie atmosphere around us. He walks towards the entrance, seemingly unfazed by the destruction and decay of the church. As Sethius approached the abandoned church, a sense of foreboding crept up within us. The silence of the surrounding forest was only broken by the sound of our footsteps on the gravel path leading to the church, which seemed to amplify with each passing moment. I could feel Sethius heartbeat quicken, and his breathing become more labored as he drew closer to the looming structure. The sight of the white marble walls, now stained with moss and neglect, sent shivers down my spine.
As he stood in front of the church, he heard a sound emanating from within. Sethius quickly reacted, using his magic to silence his movements, and he took cover behind some nearby bushes. I was filled with a sense of apprehension, wondering if the sound he heard was the source of the rumors from the hunters.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Minutes passed by, and he continued to wait in silence. Finally, his patience was rewarded as he saw multiple hooded figures emerge from the church and head towards the city. He considered the possibility of following them, but ultimately decided to enter the church.
As he approached the entrance, the creaking sound of the rusted iron door echoed through the clearing. It felt like the sound was carried by the wind, causing it to reverberate through the trees. The sense of trepidation he felt earlier only grew stronger as he entered the church.
The interior was dimly lit by the soft glow of the moonlight that filtered through the cracks in the walls and ceiling. The pungent smell of decay filled our nostrils, and cobwebs hung from the rafters like macabre decorations. The altar, once a symbol of hope and healing, now stood as a testament to the neglect and abandonment that had befallen the church. The intricate carvings and sculptures that had once adorned the walls and pillars were now covered in dust and cobwebs, their details barely visible in the dim light.
Despite the oppressive atmosphere, he felt a sense of curiosity urging us to explore the church further. He moved cautiously through the pews, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the cavernous space. The darkness seemed to grow thicker with every step, and the oppressive silence weighed heavily on our minds.
As Sethius stepped closer to the altar, his heart pounded in his chest. The faint light from the moon that streamed in from the small windows cast an eerie glow over the altar and the darkness beyond. He could hear his own breath echoing in the silence of the church, along with the sound of his footsteps on the marble floor. The altar was adorned with candles that flickered with a soft orange light, casting eerie shadows across the walls.
As he made his way behind the altar, he could feel a chill running down his spine. The darkness beyond the altar seemed to swallow up the flickering light of the candles, and the entrance to the crypts was just visible in the shadows. It was a small, unremarkable doorway made of cold, grey stone that seemed to blend in with the surrounding walls. The air was damp and musty, and he could feel the weight of the centuries-old structure bearing down on him.
With a deep breath, Sethius stepped forward and pushed open the door. A chill swept over him as he peered into the darkness beyond. The flickering candlelight was now far behind him, and he was plunged into the abyss of the crypts. The walls were rough and cold, and the musty smell of decay hung in the air. The sound of his footsteps echoed ominously, bouncing off the walls and disappearing into the darkness.
As he delved deeper into the crypts, he could see signs of people constantly passing through it. The path was well-worn and clearly visible, despite the darkness. The walls were lined with crumbling stones, each one bearing a name and a date, etched into the stone. The faint light from his torch illuminated the inscriptions, casting an eerie glow over the crypts.
The deeper he went, the more he felt like he was walking through the bowels of the earth itself. The walls seemed to close in around him, and the air grew colder and damper. The sound of his footsteps was joined by a faint drip, drip, drip as water trickled down the walls, pooling on the uneven floor. The only sound in the darkness was the soft rustle of his cloak as he moved, and the steady thump of his heart in his chest.
Despite the chill that ran through his bones, Sethius pressed on. The crypts seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning through the darkness. It felt like an eternity before he finally saw a faint light in the distance. The light grew brighter as he approached, and he could hear the soft murmur of voices in the distance.
As he emerged into the light, he saw that he was in a small chamber, lined with rough stones. A group of hooded figures stood in the center of the room, huddled around a small flame. They spoke in hushed tones, their voices echoing softly through the chamber. Sethius watched from the shadows, hidden in the darkness, as they performed some sort of ritual, the light of the flame casting eerie shadows across the walls.
Despite his years of experience as a warrior, Sethius felt a chill run down his spine. He could feel the weight of the centuries-old church bearing down on him, and the darkness of the crypts seemed to seep into his very soul. The only thing that kept him moving forward was his determination to unravel the mystery of the cult and uncover the truth behind the disappearances.