Baladin: Chapter 9

 

Chapter 9 The Graveyard

The moon Drogath was just cresting the horizon when I started up the path it was wanning and only half full, Hestium was also wanning, but it was nearly full and high in the sky.  Its light allowed me to see, but the night was mostly dark.  I added a little light to my shield so I could see better and so nothing could sneak up on me, the incantation was a few bars from a song about travelling by torch light.  Cyr Astra lent me a fragment of power and my shield lit up gently.  I walked up the hill towards the temple to Auristra.  The hill rose close to fifteen meters over the surrounding countryside but the walk to the crest five hundred meters away; that is where the temple had been built.  I would have called it a gentle rise.  There was some evidence that there had been walls at one time out just beyond the Temple, but these were torn down centuries ago. 

The graveyard was a little interesting.  It was clearly marked and off to one side of the temple and on the slope the temple was built on.  There was a clear wall around it and a path from the road to it, but there were a number of monuments and family tombs beyond the confines of the graveyard, like the graveyard had been much larger than it was at present.  The marked of section that was maintained was still larger than it should have been for the size of the village suggesting that it served as a more regional graveyard.  The gate was old and pitted with rust, but the latch and hinges were in good repair and were well oiled. 

The locals suggested that the graves had been disturbed recently, that someone had dug them up at night.  There was no evidence anyone doing that tonight.  There was freshly turned dirt on several graves though and that backed up the stories.  There was a large looming structure in the centre of the graveyard, and I approached it.  It was a family tomb of a wealthy family.  The light from my shield illuminated the family name carved into the side bas relief: OLIVESTONE.  The stone door was slightly ajar.

This seemed odd and I decided to investigate.  The moss and lichens that had grown on the sides of the stone were scraped off from when the stone door had been opened.  There was a seal on the door of a minor royalty, the crest of a baron, so the tomb was most likely the family crypt of the local ruler.  The townsfolk had not talked about having a new leader, so I reasoned that any change in that capacity had not been recent.  I loosened my sword in its sheath and set my shield to the side of the door.  I gripped the door and tried to pull it open.  It would not budge easily.  Using both hands and a foot braced on the wall I tugged on the door and was rewarded with a quiet grating of stone on stone.  The stone door only moved because it was designed to moved but it was still an onerous task.  I only needed to open it enough to squeeze inside. 

Moving my shield in first, with the glowing light from the symbol of Cyr Astra, I was able to look inside before I entered to investigate it.  Shadows from the large stone sarcophagus resting on a stone table in the centre of the floor were thrown up on the walls illuminating shelves on the walls that were filled with bones and skulls.  The door was only open enough to squeeze through, but as I did so the hilt of my sword caught on the door and was nearly wrenched off my belt.  Once inside the light was held in a steady hand at a proper level and I was able to survey the tomb.  It had been desecrated.  The walls were covered with arcane symbols writ with rusty red of dried blood.  The was evidence of some horrible ritual that was cast here.  there were the stubs of black candles that had guttered out in the shelves.  Some of the old skulls that had been resting in the shelves were positioned around the floor with lines joining each with more writings in some foul language.  There was a sparkle in the light from one alcove that showed a large crystal vial filled with red liquid.  Beside it was a small gold knife that was curved and looked sharp, like the knives that skinners used to free a hide from the flesh inside.  The last detail that filled the room was the almost unbearable stench everywhere.

I entered the room from the entrance, almost gagging on the stench.  It smelled sweet like decaying flesh, but with a putrid wet smell also, like rotten meat.  The smell was pervading the entire room and could not be easily localized.  I turned around slowly looking at the desecration on the walls and looking for the source of the smell.  I finally saw it; the lid of the sarcophagus was slightly askew.  I pushed at the lid to see what had been done to the interred resident.  The smell that wafted up from the cavity within was if anything fresher.  I stopped pushing as the contents of my stomach tried to make a break for it and I retched.  The lid continued to move, a hand from within was pushing it further open. 

I had been pushing it with two hands and all my strength, the thing inside was opening it with one hand.  I stepped back and got control of myself wiping the vomit from my lips with my hand and asked Cyr Astra for protection from unnatural forces.  There was a brief glow surrounding my person and I felt encouraged, Cyr Astra was with me.  The lid was half askew on the stone coffin and a hand on the side.  The figure rose to sitting inside and moved to dismount.  There was a wooden circlet painted gold on its head.  The things hair was long and thin, gray in colour and falling out on chunks on its shoulder.  There was a shroud covering its torso, but as it rose it fell down exposing its chest, flesh rotted and glistening with foul secretions.  The flesh had shrunk away from its skull exposing rotted teeth and eyes that leaked liquid.  It was not slow as it rose and stepped down.  The sight before me was terror inducing.  I did not wait; I knew that this type of creature was always hungry.

I moved up to it and lunged toward it, my blade sunk into its side, and I called on Cyr Astra’s retribution.  A flash of light filled the interior of the tomb and a sigil of the god of music etched itself on my foe, my blade burning its flesh; I pulled my blade out hoping that it would be enough.  The Ghast was not done with me, and it sprang at me with its claws and slathering teeth.  It slashed at me and the light around me flared and the sound of humming rose sending the first and second flailing attack away from me.  It tried to bite me, but the light flared strongly as before but it would not be as easily swayed from its attack.  It would have bitten me, but I raised my shield and it impacted heavily there.  I was thrown back a few steps and it had to advance on me again.

I could see that this was a fight that I could die from.  The sinews of the undead flesh were not so uneasily unknitted, and it was coursing with the power of some greater power.  I trust with my blade with all my will to hit it.  Blessing used said Drogath.  My blade slid past its head on the right, but my desperate hit had slashed at its throat, and I called upon Cyr Astra again.  The smell of charred flesh began to overwhelm the rotting stench as my cut ripped apart the front of its throat and the retribution of Cyr Astra nearly toppled it.  Nearly.  The step back was a feint, and its attack was twice as ferocious as the first.  The Left and the Right swings of its claws shimmered as they scored the air near me, the last though wrenched my shield of my arm and pulled my muscles, the muscles holding its head were damaged, but they held enough strength that they drew a spray of blood from my shoulder as it bit me hard.  My sword arm came up and punched the thing in the head causing it to release me and send it reeling away.  I took a step back and rammed my blade into its eye and calling Cyr Astra to finish this abomination.  Its head exploded.  Blessing granted said Xeric, some of the balance has been restored to the World.

I took a moment to rest against the sarcophagus and clutched my shoulder.  I summoned the healing tones of music into the wound, and it closed beneath my hand.  The smell of the beast and the ichor that now painted the inside of the tomb made me ill and I needed some fresh air.  I staggered outside, the light of the moons revealed two figures lunging towards me and their former master and one emerging from its grave.  “Ascsain take you,” she muttered.  More undead, hopefully not as strong.  I held the door and my prayer to Cyr Astra was still active the wound that the horror had given me almost disrupted it.  The healing repaired the worst of the damage done to my arm and shoulder and I was able to hold my shield again.  My blade stabbed the creature, and the blessing of Cyr Astra blasted the ghoul, and the light filled the graveyard and reflected off the windows of the distant temple.  I hoped that it might attract the attention of someone, anyone. 

The two remaining ghouls approached as if I had not just dispatched the one in front of it.  I stabbed at it and missed.  The ghoul punched at me but missed hitting the door to the tomb so hard that it moved the heavy stone door.  The last ghoul moved up to just behind the second and I knew I would not be able to escape easily.  Playing before the crowds and the fight so far had left me more tired than I thought or was it the loss of blood from the last fight.  I struck the ghoul, but my blade skittered across its breastbone rather than stabbing deep.  And it slashed at me cutting my sword arm.  The wound was dire, and I knew I was at an end unless I spent the time to bind the wound to prevent blood loss but to do that, I would have to give up my advantageous position.  I pulled a small vial from my belt and thumbed the stopper of while swinging my blade around outside.  I downed the elixir and felt the warmth as it filled my body and limbs and sealing the wound on my arm.  I gave up some room on the door and let it in.  it would get a better attack on me, but I could better use my shield, also the other ghoul was still outside; I did not give up that much ground.  It attempted to grab me but the aura around me sent its attack awry.  I saw it was unbalanced and kicked out at its knee and stabbing it in the side.  My blade slid out and up at the last advisory.

The mindless form reached for me and tried to stand on the corpses of its fellows and lost its footing.  I saw this chance and drove my blade with all my might and willed my sword as deep as it might go.  Blessing used said Drogath. The tip drove into its skull and out its torso below its arm and it stopped moving.  I slumped down to the ground to rest a bit pausing in my rest to rekindle the light on my shield when it began to dull. 

I found the rest to be most helpful and rose and recovered my blade.  I looked around the tomb and gathered up the evidence that I could find, there was a golden knife and an unholy symbol to some dark god.  There was also seven black stubs of candles in seven candle sticks, these I also collected.  There was a small tribute within the sarcophagus of coins and gems which I also collected and put in my purse.  My exertions this night were still not forgotten, and I was still tired, so I headed out back down the rise to the village and the inn.

The inn was locked up good and well and the open window I had left was a story up.  I was not ready for that climb, so I went to the stables, where I knew I would find my horse and wagon.  I lit a lantern and another until there was a warm light around me.  I changed into some spare clothes, as the ones that I was wearing were soaked through with blood and ichor from my fight.  I filled the trough with water and soaked the clothing in it.  I took some soap from the confines of my bag and washed the stains out before hanging them to dry and spilling the trough out back.  I slept in the straw until dawn.