CHAPTER 8.5: FALLING INTO A MESS
“Gemstones drink up the Aether’s power like sponges do water. Any Magi can squeeze that power out of them to bolster their spells. But a clever Magi can use gemstones to power intricate enchantments. While the cleverest Magi instead asks why Gemstones do this and what can you learn from it. As one of those Magi I can tell you the answer is quite a lot actually.” - First Preceptor Leonid Lupa of Vindabon.
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Guard-Captain Arkaz Iron-Teeth ground his titular teeth together in frustration. There had been two more murders since the Cemetary incident, and progress was negligible. One of the killings had been in the Fourteenth District, so now he had the other district Guards causing problems. More than one Guard-Captain had a grudge against Iron-Teeth. His status as an immigrant to Vindabon made his appointment a sore subject. While far more cosmopolitan than most places, Vindabon still got prickly about outsiders gaining any sort of internal power. It was less about him being a Dwarf and more about him not being native-born. Iron-Teeth couldn’t tell if that spoke well or poorly of the city.
Mina’s lead about the killer being Undead had helped and at least gotten the City Guards to stop sniffing about the Werefolk. A closer examination of the bodies by Mina and one of her superiors confirmed the bite marks all came from a human. They lacked the sharpness you’d expect from Werefolk. This superior was apparently a retired Rest-Bringer who’d been happy to bring his knowledge of fighting the Undead to bear. Knowledge that eliminated possibilities but did not get them closer to the killer. For example, they knew they were looking for an intelligent and probably magically adept Undead. Something capable of hiding its tracks from the Temple’s Arcane Wards.
Iron-Teeth had insisted on being involved every step of the way and, in the process, had learned a great deal about the Temple of Master Time and its duties. Apparently, each of the Ten Temples protected the city from a different threat, with Undeath suitably being under Master Time’s purview. A job the Temple took seriously and was apparently pretty good at.
Massive wards covered the city, designed to repel lesser Undead and trap their masters. While the Temple kept a team of Rest-Bringers, who worked hand in hand with the Ivory Tower to crack down on Necromancy in Vindabon and Norica. These were just some of the more impressive resources the Temple could muster. Unfortunately, most of those resources were busy facing the Army of Skeletons and their Vampire masters in the southeast.
Leaving Iron-Teeth with an overtaxed Temple barely capable of keeping up with the Funerary demands of a large City. Still, despite all this, the Temple had proved far far more cooperative than the Ivory Towers and the city government. With them scrounging up what they could to help him. Leading to Iron-Teeth's current location and nervous frustration.
The Guard-Captain and his inner circle were standing in the Arch Sanctum of the Temple of Master Time. A huge domed chamber large enough to fit a normal town’s temple easily. Twin arches stretched over the Sanctum creating the dome, while bands of colored glass filled in the empty space. Creating a hypnotizing pattern of shrinking circles that met where the arches intersected. A huge piece of polished black stone hung down from the dome’s peak on a long silver chain. Creating a pendulum the size of a bull Frosthorn.
Numerous grottos lined the Arch Sanctum’s walls. Each devoted to a different Saint or Hero of the Temple. The largest, of course, belonged to Saint Mira, the only figure with shrines in all ten city Temples. The walls between the grottos and doors leaving the Arch Sanctum were covered in murals depicting important events throughout history. While the floor was broken up by ten small pits. Each was ten meters across and ringed by small stairs. The pits were only two steps deep and were each a ritual space. A silver circle marked the bottom step and divided the pits from the rest of the temple.
Iron-Teeth stood at the top of one of these ringed stairs, looking down into the pit below him. Below him, half a dozen Priests and Priestesses were hard at work. They’d lain lines of salt and ochre onto the granite floor of the pit. Creating mesmerizing patterns and glyphs. Now they each stood equidistant from each other, forming a six-sided star as they murmured words in Saint-Speech.
The nervous Guards watched as the seventh member of the ritual walked around her elder colleagues. Mina, dressed in a white robe, held a bowl in one hand, and an unlit oil lamp in the other. As she whispered incantations, Mina pulled items from the bowl and dropped them into the center of the circle. Most were vials of some black fluid, with a Soot-stained Rag and what Iron-Teeth swore was a molar the exceptions. Once they were placed, Mina held up the lantern, and the chanting grew louder and louder.
Iron-Teeth felt some cold pull dragging him towards the ritual circle. Like some titan of frost was sucking in a breath and hoping to pull him into its maw. He glanced at Darvy and Cat-Eyes, seeing they were also feeling it. Darvy had his feet spread out like he was trying to keep his balance. While Cat-Eye’s eyes were wide in what might have been fear. The sensation grew worse and worse as the chanting reached a crescendo.
Brilliant silver light burst from the lantern Mina held, and its light cut through the air like million shining blades. Iron-Teeth flinched back from the light. Feeling its unyielding power press against his very soul. The light started to dim, taking on a slightly bluish hue as it did. Matching a mundane lantern in intensity, if not color.
A shaky Mina, still holding the lantern, left the ritual pit and nodded to Iron-Teeth. “We got it. I can get us close, then we can activate the binding.”
Iron-Teeth actually smiled then, metallic teeth reflecting the blue light. It had taken nearly a week of planning and cajoling for this moment. Now finally, he’d get some results. Vindabon was a city under constant threat of Vampire infiltration. Its wards could do much to stave off lesser Undead but had a more difficult time with more intelligent monsters. If a clever Undead horror didn’t use any of its magical powers and kept on the move, it would be difficult to locate. To compensate for that weakness, the Temple had created the ritual Iron-Teeth had just witnessed.
Shutting her eyes, Mina focused on the lantern. Letting her mind touch the intricate spell woven into it. Information flowed into her from the City’s wards. Instantly she found what she sought. Eyes flying open, silver-blue light dripping from them, she yelled. “IT'S NEARBY!”
The Guards moved into action. Mina, flanked by Iron-Teeth and her superior, a Senior-Priest named Morri, left the Arch-Sanctum. Collecting the three squads of Guards waiting at the Temple’s exterior. Iron-Teeth, Darvy, and Cat-Eyes grabbed their weapons from the Guards, and Morri pulled out a surprisingly large Mace from beneath his robes. Following Mina, they rushed down a side street near the temple and found a small Inn.
Pausing for a second, Mina sucked in a deep breath. “It's on the third floor, second door on the right. I’m going to activate the binding now.”
Iron-Teeth looked at the thirty-strong force he had. “Here’s the plan. Darvy and I will go in first, with Priest Morri backing us up. Cat-Eyes, you and Mina circle around back with Dorick’s squad. You watch all the exits and signal us if anything tries to run.” Rolling his Krazkrak between his hands, he added. “Remember, we don’t know what we’re dealing with. Play this safe and stay close to the Priests. Got it?”
A small murmur of confirmation went around, and Mina put her hand over the oil lamp's strange flame. Instantly snuffing it. Black smoke billowed out from around her fingers and formed into the shape of Runes as it faded. Mina’s eyes lost their glow, and in their place was fear.
“Sir, whatever it is, it's powerful,” she whispered. “The binding will hold, but whatever we caught, it’s dangerous.”
Grunting in acknowledgment, Iron-Teeth pointed to his two fastest Guards. “Rake, head to the Fourteenth District Station and tell them what we’ve found. Andria, head to the Twelfth and do the same. Get them to send that Battlemage of theirs.”
Then the raid began. A big quarter-Orc Guard named Temir shoved open the door and bellowed in his brassy voice. “HANDS UP AND FINGERS SPREAD! THE CITY GUARD IS HERE!”
Two dozen or so early patrons looked startled. They quickly complied. Ensuring no weapons or spells were at the ready. The Guards piled through the doorway and charged towards the staircase. The Innkeeper screamed a mixture of questions and obscenities at them as they went. Reaching the third floor, they found the room in question. Iron-Teeth didn’t even slow down but slammed his weight into the door. The lock splintered, and the Dwarven Captain roared out a battle cry.
“LEX AETERNA!” The motto of Guards and Judges the Continent over in Old Imperial. Behind him, his troops answered in Western. “THE LAW FOREVER!”
Entering the room, Iron-Teeth’s eyes widened in surprise. A monster of ruined flesh stood before him. Two meters tall, covered in horrific scars, was a deathly pale Flesh-Golem. Behind the monster was a nude woman on the bed twitching. Iron-Teeth felt a mixture of elation and horror. The monster wasn’t bound, but they’d stopped it from taking another victim.
Any other emotions or insights had to wait as Iron-Teeth realized what the Flesh-Golem held, a huge dwarven-steel halberd. Somehow the idea of this thing using something his people made only enraged Iron-Teeth further. “COME ON, YOU BIG BASTARD! THIS HAS BEEN COMING LONG ENOUGH!”
The Flesh-Golem roared and swung its weapon. Iron-Teeth rolled beneath the strike and came up with his krazkrak, the weapon's hammer side reaching for the monster’s kneecap. The Flesh-Golem dodged but didn’t see Darvy’s spear coming. The speartip rammed into the Flesh-Golem’s chest, catching on a rib. The Monster didn’t even notice, spinning its halberd’s haft and cracking Darvy on the chin. Teeth went flying, and the Lieutenant stumbled back. Three more guards took his place alongside the Priest. Swinging his weapon again, Iron-Teeth brought it down on the Monster’s foot. This got a scream from the Flesh-Golem as its barefoot took the hammer blow.
Guards piled in, each swinging their weapons at the stumbling Flesh-Golem. Many hit, and it barely reacted. The halberd struck out towards Iron-Teeth, the Dwarf coming in closer to catch the shaft on his side instead of the axe-head. Even through his breastplate, it snapped two of his ribs. Seeing Iron-Teeth fall to a knee in pain, Temir the Orcblood roared and charged in. Dropping his club, he went to grapple the Flesh-Golem, whose weapon was busy fending off four different spears. With its free hand, the Flesh Golem reached out and grabbed Temir by his beard and swung the hulking Orcblood like a sack of produce. Temir’s head met the bed’s frame with an ugly crack that splintered wood.
Iron-Teeth took the distraction his subordinates had created and went for the Flesh-Golem’s knee. The blow connected, and cartilage audibly crunched. The monster collapsed to the ground, its leg unable to support its weight. Looming over it, Iron-Teeth raised his weapon high and prepared to splatter the walking corpse’s brain all over the carpet.
“STOP!” bellowed a voice from behind him and silver light came with it. Iron-Teeth whirled around to see Senior Priest Morri holding up a magically shining hourglass pendant. Looking at the Flesh-Golem, the Priest asked incredulously. “Cole? Is that you?”
Grunting in pain, the Flesh-Golem answered. “Morri? What in the Infinite Hells is going on!”
Confused, Iron-Teeth looked back at the Flesh-Golem and blinked in surprise. With the haze of battle fading, he realized the “Flesh-Golem'' was breathing and bleeding. He wasn’t Undead but the single most scarred person Iron-Teeth had ever seen. This Cole fellow looked like he’d been sewn together from scraps. Pulling himself up to his feet, using his halberd as a walking stick Cole looked over the Guards. Confusion and worry in the scarred man’s eyes were replaced by anger.
“What have you done to her, Morri?” he hissed. Confused by the giant’s words, Iron-Teeth looked at the girl on the bed. While he much preferred a stout Dwarven gal to any long-boned human lass, Iron-Teeth had to admit she was perhaps one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen. Looking past his initial assessment, he saw the thrashing woman was unnaturally pale and covered in dark runes. The same type of runes the Lantern’s smoke had made.
Things clicked into place, and Iron-Teeth pointed his krazkrak at the thing on the bed. “IT'S HER! She’s the Undead!”
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Cole hobbled between Iron-Teeth’s outstretched weapon and the creature in his bed. Glaring at the Guard-Captain then at the Priest, he said. “Again, I ask what you are doing here Morri?”
Morri approached the creature, still holding his amulet high, its light shining down on the she-thing. The monster started to spasm and thrash harder as the light got closer. Lightning quick, Cole grabbed the amulet and shut his fingers around it. Blocking out the light. Morri hardly noticed, too busy looking at the fangs present in the girl’s mouth.
“What are you doing with a Vampire?” Morri hissed. The old priest jabbed an accusatory finger at Cole.
Grimacing, an expression that stretched his many scars, Cole looked at the now very nervous guards in the room. Shuffling over, he wrapped up the Vampire in the blanket to preserve her modesty, before answering. “It’s a complicated story. One I’ll be happy to tell in the privacy of the Temple and once whatever binding you cast is undone.”
Iron-Teeth growled. “Bugger that! I have nine innocents dead and a bloody Vampire loose in my District.”
Cole looked to the irate Dwarf, and understanding dawned on the scarred man’s face. “The murders? You are here about the murders?”
“YES!” spat Iron-Teeth. “I don’t know what connection you have with Morri. And I don’t care, I’m bringing you and the Vampire in.”
Cole leaned against one of the bed posts and let out a breath. “I can’t do that, Guard, but I can tell you we had nothing to do with these crimes.” before Iron-Teeth could snarl something in response Cole continued. “We just arrived in the city. We’ve been on a barge for the last two weeks and on the roads of the Southern Marches for the two months before that.” Sliding down a little onto the bed, Cole added. “You can check with the Stream Skipper’s crew if you don’t believe me.”
Just then, Iron-Teeth realized the scarred man was bleeding badly. He’d taken a dozen spear hits and half a dozen other ugly strikes. Morri went over to Cole and put a hand on the worst of the wounds. Murmuring a spell, Morri’s hand glowed, and wherever it went, pink skin covered Cole’s wounds.
“These will probably scar, but I don’t think that will bother you much,” the Priest remarked
Cole snorted in laughter, weak laughter. “No, it won’t, but I’ll be okay. Undo whatever spell you cast on Natalie.”
Morri shrugged. “I can’t without harming her. But it will run its course in twenty-four hours.”
Cole seemed to accept that as Morri continued the magical healing. “The knee will need someone better than me to fix it. But I should be able to make it usable.”
Iron-Teeth came over to the Priest and Scarred-Man and asked. “Who is he, Morri? How do you know him?”
Bizarrely the old priest looked to Cole for permission before answering. Upon getting a nod, he looked to Iron-Teeth and answered. “This is Cole of Atredia, Paladin of Master Time.”
Iron-Teeth and every other (conscious) guard in the room took an involuntary step back at that. Few people inspired more awe or fear than a Paladin. The true Knights of the Gods, they were harbingers of Doom. Only appearing when the Gods themselves needed to intervene.
Scratching at his beard, Iron-Teeth sheepishly remarked. “Sorry about the knee Sir Paladin.” pausing for a second, he then added. “And the foot as well.”
Standing up, Cole brushed off Murri. “Make sure none of these Guards are badly wounded. I’ll be okay.” turning to Iron-Teeth he said. “Call me Cole, no need for titles. What can I call you?”
“I’m Guard-Captain Arkaz Iron-Teeth. Captain of the Thirteenth District Guard and currently no step closer to finding my killer. While also getting myself neck deep in shit involving a Paladin and Vampire.” he answered
The Paladin actually smiled at that and offered his hand to Iron-Teeth. Before they could shake hands the clatter of footsteps pulled everyone's attention to the door. Where a confused City-Warden Alia Cat-Eyes, had arrived. A small crossbow crooked under one arm, a dagger in her other hand. Alia looked around the room and asked. “What the Hells is going on?”
Iron-Teeth grunted. “A false lead and a whole mess of trouble. Hey! Didn’t I tell you to stay out back and watch for trouble?”
Cat-Eyes shrugged. “You were taking too long; we were getting nervous. So I elected to come and find out what was happening.”
After a second, the City-Warden sniffed the air and asked. “Why does this room smell like sex?”
All eyes went to Cole and then the twitching Vampire. A blush came along the pale-skinned Paladin’s face, and he muttered to Morri. “Maybe it's a good thing you can’t wake her.”
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A dressed Cole wrapped Natale up in a blanket, grabbed both of their packs, and started down the stairs to the inn lobby, Trailed by two dozen guards in various shapes of injury. While Cole had been focused on Captain Iron-Teeth, he’d also managed to get glancing blows on most of the other Guards who’d piled into the room. Morri had managed to patch them up, but more than a few were nursing tender spots. The Orcblooded guard had a nob the size of an egg on his head while Lieutenant Darvy was stuck carrying two of his teeth.
Auntie Alissa and the remaining patrons gawked at the strange procession as they passed by. Cole stopped, went over to the Innkeeper, and put some bronze coins on the bar. “For the blanket, I assume you can bill the City over the damages to the room?”
Both Cole and Alissa looked at Iron-Teeth, who grumbled in confirmation. The annoyance the Dwarf showed made Cole feel a little better. While he knew intellectually, the Guard Captain had just been doing his job. Getting hit in the toes with a bloody hammer was enough to sour even Cole’s attitude some.
The streets were empty and dark. Heavy cloud cover and the season had robbed the city of any natural light. The glow of windows and street lamps the only source of illumination. No one except the strange procession was on the streets either. Alissa was right, it seemed, people weren’t willing to brave them with a killer on the loose. As they approached the Temple, Guards broke off from their awkward parade. Returning to posts across the district, seeking further medical treatment, or just going home for the night.
Leaving Cole, the unconscious Natalie, Morri, a Priestess named Mina, Iron-Teeth, and a Werefolk woman apparently named Cat-Eyes. The odd group entered the Temple through a side door, Cole taking time to check on Natalie to make sure the Temple wasn’t harming her. She was still twitching occasionally, but other than that, she seemed reasonably fine. Morri took them down cold, clean hallways illuminated by pale Glowstones until they reached a spare chamber with a bed and desk.
The old Priest sat behind the desk and gestured for Cole to set the Vampire on the bed and for everyone to sit in the chairs scattered about the room. Gently, Cole set Natalie down, glad to see her eyes weren’t rolled back anymore. Sitting on the bed next to her, Cole looked to see everyone in the room looking at him. Morri looked annoyed, Iron-Teeth frustrated, Mina confused, and Cat-Eyes bored.
Sighing, Morri glared at Cole. “So do you care to tell me why you, a Paladin of our God, is not only traveling with the enemy but sleeping with it?”
“Her,” Cole corrected. “And as I said, it's complicated,”
Iron-Teeth grunted. “Not if it's any different from how Dwarfs do it. A little in and out and boom, a new generation of younglings born in fourteen months.”
Cole glared at the prickly Guard-Captain. “I mean no offense, but the information related to this is sensitive. I’d prefer to only share it with my fellows of the Temple.”
Iron-Teeth massaged his patched ribs and bit back. “If you are going to be staying in Weinstadt, you are my problem. You smell like trouble, Paladin. I need to know exactly what type.”
Morri shrugged and ran his fingers through his receding gray hair. “The Captain has a point. You brought a Vampire into his district without informing the Temple or the City. Whatever is going on, it's best if we’re all on the same page.”
Grimacing, Cole looked back to Natalie. He could trust Morri; in fact, he’d been the Senior Priest he intended to meet upon arriving in the city. They’d met when Cole first came to Vindabon nine years ago. Morri being Cole’s chief connection to the wider Temple organization. If Morri vouched for this Iron-Teeth that should be enough, but Cole still disliked the idea of sharing everything that had happened with a stranger. Especially one that had smashed his bloody toes.
“Alright, I’ll share what I can,” Cole said. “About three months ago, I was in the Blood Duchies. Trying to pick off Undead where I could and looking for information about a certain Vampire. In the process, I was Called to a small town in Zaubervold. Something bad was brewing there, and I got involved.”
Nodding back at Natalie, Cole continued. “She helped me, and I-”
Iron-Teeth interrupted Cole, “Wait-wait-wait? A Vampire helped you? A Paladin of Master Time?”
Finding himself increasingly annoyed with the Captain, Cole explained. “She hadn’t been turned yet. Which I would have explained if you let me. But yes, she was a local human who helped me. See, one of the local ‘Nobles’ had gone rogue and was amassing an army of dangerous Undead. I started hunting them, and Natalie’s knowledge of the area proved crucial. So when the rogue Vampire got wind of me, he attacked us both. Natalie was infected, and I was captured.”
Cole had told Morri many things, but his immortal nature wasn’t one of them. So he skirted over some details. “My hunt got us both caught up in the local power struggle. This rogue Vampire was trying to supplant his Sire and steal a powerful… artifact. The artifact was somewhat bound to the Sire and his bloodline, and it needed a new host. I couldn’t let it fall into the usurper's hands, and the Sire was dying. So a third option was required. Natalie inherited the artifact, and we killed the Usurper and most of the local Vampires.”
Stunned silence filled the room at the matter-a-fact way Cole described cutting his way through a dozen Vampires. Cole continued, not noticing the shock. “If she were to die, the artifact would…well, it would cause problems. Having her host its power while being in my custody was the best option available. Master Time seems to agree. So we left the Blood Duchies to come here. The goal was to hide her in Vindabon from any pursuing Vampires and try to gather information about the artifact.”
Morri clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You should have come to the Temple straight away and avoided this whole mess!”
Cole shrugged. “We planned to make contact after settling in at the Final Flagon. Both Natalie and I were concerned about how the Temple might react, so we agreed I’d come here by myself before bringing her.”
The Catblood Werefolk woman snickered. “Settling in? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
The Priestess Mina playfully slapped Cat-Eyes’s side and gave Cole an apologetic look. Iron-Teeth spoke then. “I have some questions. Like, for one, what possessed you to try and smuggle a bloody Vampire into the city. Especially one hunted by the Arch-Leech's minions?”
A little confused, Cole said. “Precedent. She wouldn’t be the first Vampire to seek asylum here.”
Iron-Teeth's granite-gray eyes bulged in anger. “You can’t be serious! There aren’t any Vampires in Vindabon, not until you brought your pet one!”
Cole looked at Morri and raised a tattered eyebrow. The Senior Priest cleared his throat, and Iron-Teeth looked his way. A stunned Mina spoke. “Elder Morri, you can’t be serious?”
Morri absently started playing with his hourglass amulet as he spoke. “The Paladin is correct. It's something of an open secret in certain circles. Vindabon is home to a small population of Greater Undead who, by some means or another, have proven their value and loyalty to the city.”
Iron-Teeth snarled at the old Priest. “You’ve been hiding this from us this entire time! Why did you bother with the bloody Lamp ritual if we could just round up the Monsters already in the city? We’ve been scouring the city for Undead, and you have a list of them!”
Giving Iron-Teeth a warning look, Morri explained. “We servants of Master Time are not exactly pleased with this arrangement, but we abide by it,”
Cole spoke up then. “We do more than that, actually. The Temples of Master Time and Sister Sun are tasked with keeping the ‘Refugees’ in line. I find it doubtful any of them are behind your killings. They have too much to lose and are watched too closely.”
Grunting in acknowledgment, Iron-Teeth remarked. “I’d still like to take a look at these ‘Refugees.’ It's the only lead we’ve gotten from this whole useless night.”
Clearing his throat, Morri interrupted Iron-Teeth's worries. “Actually, that might not be strictly true.”
The Senior Priest gestured to Cole. “One of the premier Rest-Bringers on the continent is here. If anyone can help you track down the killer, it will be him.”
Iron-Teeth started to object, while Cole just shut his eyes in acceptance. He knew what was about to happen. The pieces were falling into place. Morri cut off Iron-Teeth. “The Prince’s Court and the other Temples would not react well to the knowledge one of our Paladins smuggled a Vampire into the city. While they might act directly against Cole, they would certainly move to have the Vampire executed or entombed.”
“However, the presence and support of a Paladin in the city, especially one who has done the city a service in stopping these killings, would be enough for this Natalie woman to be accepted as another Refugee.”
Letting out a sigh, Cole murmured an old saying favored by the devout and the paranoid. Categories he both belonged to. “Coincidence is the God’s domain.”
Morri smiled. “Exactly, I don’t think it's mere happenstance that all of this has occurred. Master Time has taken an interest in helping us here in Vindabon. His Paladin is here to aid you, Captain Iron-Teeth, and with him are the Tenth Temple’s resources.”
Getting up from the small bed, Cole rolled his shoulders and knelt before Iron-Teeth. Any annoyance at the Guard-Captain vanished behind the mantle of duty. Intense ice-blue eyes met the Dwarfs, and the Paladin of Death spoke. “Guard-Captain Arkaz Iron-Teeth, will you accept my aid in this endeavor?”
Looking into those cold hard eyes, Iron-Teeth felt a tiny flicker of fear. Some long-buried instinct telling him he was in the presence of something great and terrible. The scarred warrior bent on one knee before him was bound and armed with terrible purpose. To fight and die as a God demanded against every manner of horror that threatened the World. That idea frightened Iron-Teeth more than any Flesh-Golem or Vampire could.
Jerking his head in a nod, Iron-Teeth accepted with an old Dwarven saying. “Aye, I’ll add your Steel to my Armory.”