Role Playing Related Fiction by The Company of Strangers

The Beginnings of The Auldvoron Campaign:

Chapter 2: The Lost Temple

PART 1 - SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS

Winter in the wilderness created certain difficulties. A thin crust of snow – some powdered dusting a thin crust, occasional tufts of grass, small drifts – caused tracks and trail signs to disappear completely from plain sight. That was what was causing Gareth some concern. After so confidently setting out to discover what had happened to the bandits that had been preying on the shire trade over the last part of the previous summer, he was having a bit of a problem. He crouched and gazed at the snow-covered ground, a slight frown on his face. The reins to his horse were clutched in his hand that he held to his mouth, lost in thought. Every now and then he would skim his hand across the crust of snow and push at the odd tuft of grass or brush aside some snow.

“You have no idea what you’re looking for, do you?” asked Brother Larkin, perched in his saddle holding the reins to the packhorse in his generous lap.

Gareth sighed and stood up, “I must admit that I’m at a loss at the moment…”

“Come now! You just can’t find anything, can you?”

“Now Brother Larkin…”

“You never paid enough attention to the lessons in woodcraft that Marion tried to teach you did you? You were always too eager for the hunt. The sport itself occupied too much of your mind for you to learn the ‘trivialities’ of tracking!”

Gareth’s lips pulled in to a harsh line and he rounded on the friar, about to say something, when he was interrupted by a cool feminine voice. “Gentlemen! This is not going to get us any further on our quest, is it? So, please, let us just calm down and get back to searching,” said Aelyra, standing beside Brother Larkin’s horse and idly brushing some few flakes of snow from the hem of her black cloak.

Gareth stopped, heaved another sigh, and looked at the elf. She was right. Arguing over the obvious was not going to help them at all. They had been searching for three days for any sign of the bandits, moving in an ever-broadening circle from the area Brigid had identified as being the most likely area to begin searching.

“You’re right Aelyra. And so are you Brother. I have no skill at tracking and reading signs like Marion does. Maybe I should have paid more attention to her when she was trying to teach me trail signs. I still maintain though that something is not right!”

“Your hunting skills have served us well so far,” Aelyra said in a calming tone, “So I see no need to start doubting them now.”

“Thank you Aelyra,” Gareth said, still a little hurt that he couldn’t discern anything more than his intuition that something felt ‘not right.’ Maybe Brigid had been right three days ago in her cottage. Maybe this was all just a fool’s errand and the bandits were long gone from the area.

***

Three days previous, the morning after the Midwinter’s Eve party, Gareth, Aelyra, and Brother Larkin had paid a visit to Brigid’s cottage. She had suggested they drop by before they left on their expedition to discover what the situation was with the bandits.

Brigid lived in a nice, clean cottage just off the main lane through the village. A small garden lined a split rail fence that surrounded a whitewashed, thatched roof cottage from which a small plume of smoke rose lazily out of the chimney.

When the trio knocked on the door she called for them to enter. Aelyra, who had never been here, found the interior of the cottage to be more of what she had seen outside. It was clean and tasteful in a quaint rustic sort of way. The furniture, while not opulent, was still of fine workmanship and pattern. The interior was neat and quite cosy. She was somewhat reminded of a halfling’s hole she had visited once on her journey through the foothills of the Lortmil Mountains.

Brigid sat in a chair beside some other chairs and a table on which sat a teapot and four mugs. “Come in and sit! We can chat over tea,” she invited them. As the three adventurers sat down in the chairs around the hearth, Brigid picked up her mug and held it out. As she did, the teapot rose from the table and, very elegantly, floated over the mug and filled it with gently steaming tea. Aelyra cocked an eyebrow at this.

Brigid took a sip and then looked up at her, “Come, dear! You must have heard by now that I was a wizard.”

“Yes, I did,” replied Aelyra. “It’s just…” she paused, not sure how to continue.

“Go ahead, dear,” Brigid smiled, “It’s just what?”

Aelyra cleared her throat. “I was going to say that it’s just not how that particular incantation would be expected to be used back home. It seems too trivial. Too rustic. I don’t mean to offend, of course…”

Brigid grinned, “No offence taken. Indeed I was wanting to see what your reactions were to confirm or allay my suspicions.” Still smiling she glanced sidelong at Aelyra as the teapot floated over and filled the other three cups. “I think, if memory serves correctly, that you are one of the school of – what was it again? – Swordsingers? Swordwizards?…”

Aelyra’s eyes popped open slightly, “Actually we’re called Bladesingers. But not many people know of us. I’m surprised.”

“Really, dear! I do still practice you know. And that implies studying. I was a bit surprised myself but when I saw you at the party last night I was pretty sure. I’ve never met one of your school before and you intrigue me.” She glanced at the two boys who were drinking their tea and feeding biscuits to Samson, her racoon familiar. They always spoiled Samson with treats when they visited. She dropped her voice a little, “And I won’t bother to ask you about your tattoo.”

Aelyra flushed slightly, “Thank you. We tend to treat such things with privacy. I didn’t expect to find this courtesy in my travels in the human lands.”

“We’re not all barbarians,” said Brigid. “Perhaps we can talk business in the future. I am sure that we might establish a mutually beneficial arrangement…”

“That might be possible,” Aelyra replied, her eyes straying to the shelves lined with books, big and small, new and old, that stood against one wall. She turned back and the two women smiled at each other.

The wizard then turned to the other two who were frolicking with Samson on the table, gently pulled the animal into her lap, and asked, “Now, how do you intend to go about finding these bandits?”

***

The sorceress had advised them of an area to begin their search and suggested that they search in a circular pattern. She seemed to know little about this type of thing for a village hedge-wizard but Gareth welcomed any advice because – to tell the truth – he didn’t have all that much of an idea on how to go about this whole thing. He had just committed himself and his companions without much forethought and now he had to make good. There were times he felt he took too much after his father, who had been known for many rambunctious things in the past.

Now here he was three days travel into the hills, going on gut instinct alone and he was stumped. Something was definitely not right. He would bet good coin on it!

Brother Larkin’s horse snuffed a little, the noise carrying clear in the quiet morning air.

“Shh! How am I supposed to hear anything with your horse snuffling all the time!”

Brother Larkin look down at his friend, “What’s to hear? I can’t hear a thing. It’s been rather quiet for some time.”

Gareth growled something under his breath and turned away. Then suddenly his eyes opened as if the sun had just peaked over the horizon. “That’s it!”

The elf woman looked askew at the young man. “What’s ‘it?’”

“It’s been quiet for some time! Don’t you see? There is no noise! No animals, no birds… No noise at all!!! That’s what caught my attention.”

Aelyra stopped and listened. Sure enough, there was no noise in the area at all. Only the barest of breezes stirred the leaves of a nearby thicket. Gareth was right. “That might mean that there is something abnormal in the area.” She drew her fine longsword from its sheath and began to look about.

“I have an idea,” said Gareth, and he began to climb a tree. “One thing that I DO remember Marion saying was that if you were having difficulty seeing something, sometimes a change of point of view made all the difference.”

“I don’t think that’s the lesson she was aiming at,” stated Brother Larkin.

The young squire looked out over the countryside. He didn’t see anything at first but then caught a brief flash of red in the sea of white as the sun peaked out from behind a cloud. He looked closer and saw what appeared to be the corner of a roof supported by whitewashed walls of stone standing nestled in a quiet fold in the hills.

“Whether that’s what she meant or not isn’t important.” Gareth looked down at his two friends, “I think I found a building of some kind.”

PART 2 – THE TEMPLE OF RAO

As the party approached the building that Gareth had seen, more details became apparent to them. The structure was not overly large, one-storey, with whitewashed walls and a red clay tile roof. Coming up the small twisting trail (if it could even be called a trail) they could see that it was rectangular, with some sort of courtyard or something set at the front. A large double gate was set into a wall about ten feet high. Beyond that could be seen the building proper and the roof of some sort of outbuilding in the courtyard.

Coming within a few tens of yards of the structure, Aelyra signalled her companions to halt. Gripping the hilt of her finely crafted sword in one hand, she extended the other palm first pointing at the gates. A low murmuring came from her throat, almost musical in its intonation. Her eyes suddenly glazed over sparkling silver and the gates and the wall began to glow slightly with a very faint bluish glow. Gareth and Brother Larkin were somewhat taken aback at this for they had never seen magic worked in this way before. When the elf’s eyes cleared a brief second later she turned to them, “There appears to be a residue of some form of divine magic about the place. It’s very faint… probably very old and not too concentrated.”

“Can you tell what form of divine magic? Is there the taint of evil about it?” asked the knight.

Aelyra shook her head slightly, “No. I can’t determine that. Just that it is very faint and very old. Perhaps this is a temple or retreat for some religious order?”

“Hmm,” Brother Larkin interjected. “I can’t recall any order having a place in this area. But then, if it’s faint and appears old, perhaps nobody in recent memory knows of this place.”

The three looked at each other. Gareth smiled and said, “Well, there is only one way to find out more. As it is the only sign of ANYTHING that we have found over the past three days I suggest we explore it! Agreed?”

Brother Larkin and Aelyra exchanged glances. Then both answered, “Agreed,” and they started toward the gates.

With the elf and the warrior both baring their swords, and Brother Larkin shifting his heavy mace slightly in his hand, they reached the gate and inspected it. The planking was bronzewood, very strong, but showed signs of neglect. Aelyra reached out and ran her hand lightly over a rough patch of the wall to one side of the gate. Then she leaned over and peered at the stone a little more closely, brushing away some of the dead vine that had crept up the wall here.

“This is odd,” she said. “There appears to be a face carved into the wall.” She cleared away more of the dirt and growth as Brother Larkin stepped forward to look at the carving. It was of a round and placid face, the look being one of calm and serenity.

“It appears to be the icon of the God Rao, representing Peace and Serenity and Reason. That IS odd, as Rao has not been a major cult in this area of the country for many, many years. By the signs of neglect about the place I’d say we’ve stumbled on an abandoned temple of Rao.”

The cleric looked from the carved face to the gates and then about the landscape. “It fits though. This would be just the type of place that the priesthood would locate a temple or monastery – calm, serene, pastoral, and out of the way of curious travellers.”

Gareth turned from the two inspecting the face and leaned with the pommel of his sword on the gate. It swung open slightly with a creak as if it was protesting being woken from a long sleep. It wasn’t barred or anything and it opened on to a cobbled courtyard, weeds poking up between the cobbles and a light snow dusting the ground. The adventurers stepped into the gate and looked in.

The courtyard was some ten or so yards across each way. In one corner beside the gate, set against the wall, was the outbuilding that they had seen from the path. It appeared to be a stable as the large double doors were separated in the middle, so that the top could be opened while the bottom was kept closed.

Across the courtyard stood a circular pool of water, its retaining wall about two feet high and about ten feet in diameter. Dark, blackish water filled the pool and the light glinted off a thin layer of ice that crusted the surface of the liquid.

In the centre of the wall of the temple stood two doors, side by side, that was quite obviously the entrance to the interior.

Gareth looked at the elf and the cleric in turn, then he turned to face the doors. The three explorers stepped forward almost as one, each occasionally glancing about at the signs of deterioration about the courtyard. Old broken bits of wood cluttered in the corners and the cobblestones seemed to be losing the battle with Phyton trying to regain the natural state of the ground.

When they reached the doors, Gareth leaned forward and peered at the crack between them.

“Don’t tell me,” smiled the bladesinger, “You pick locks as well as track?”

“Well, it’s worth a try. After all, you never know. Besides, it doesn’t appear to be locked.” And with that he heaved a little and pushed the door open slowly.

Light filtered in through the open doorway and the room was almost fully illuminated when Brother Larkin pushed open the second door. They were looking at an entrance chamber. About the walls were old frescoes and icons depicting aspects of the worship of Rao, pastoral scenes, quiet glades, sunsets and sunrises. All showed signs of being neglected and untended for quite some time. Light dust covered the floor and a slight breeze stirred it a bit. They stepped in and looked at the scenes depicted.

“This is definitely a temple of Rao’s,” Brother Larkin confirmed. “So you see this robed figure? That’s the avatar of the god speaking to the faithful.”

“What’s this?” asked the elf, pointing at something scrawled in one corner. It definitely didn’t fit in with the rest of the art. The priest bent down to read it.

“It says, ‘All followers of Rao should be…’ – Harumph! Well! Such language. That is definitely NOT of this temple.”

Aelyra bent over, took the edge of her cloak and rubbed at the words. They came off easily as it turned out they were just chalked on. “So we know someone has been here since the temple was abandoned.”

“Yes,” said Gareth, “I think that’s a safe assumption.”

Two doors, one in each of the east and west walls, led out of the room. Gareth went to the west door on their right and, taking off his helmet, listened at the door. “I don’t hear anything.”

With Aelyra standing beside him and Brother Larkin one step behind them, Gareth pushed on the door. It swung open lazily as if it had been resting until someone pressed upon it. Before them stood a corridor leading away and turning to the left some feet ahead. There were two doors set into the wall on the right. The left wall ran up to the corner and was pierced by two narrow vertical slits, through which the weak sunlight of the day poured, showing off the floating motes of dust slowly finding their way to the hall floor.

Aelyra stepped forward a few feet and peered through one of the windows. From what she could see, she was looking onto a garden – a square atrium that the corridor seemed to surround. It was much overgrown with plant life but she could see an arched gateway from the hallway down one wall and another across from where she was standing. The corridor in these gateways was shadowed and empty. In what she figured to be the centre of the garden stood a small structure. She could just see one edge of it, ivory marbled pillars supporting a small dome standing upon a dais of two steps. She couldn’t see what was in the shell as her vision was curtailed by the edge of the narrow window.

She described the scene to her companions and after a brief discussion they decided to investigate the doors to their left first. They would take more interest in the atrium when they arrived at one of the archways into the garden.

Brother Larkin stepped to the bend of the corridor and peeked around. Lining the right side of the hall were four doors, each with a small door placed head high. “It appears that these might be the cells of the priests who tended the temple.” At the far end of the corridor and facing him was a normal door.

“Well, they don’t seem to be here now,” said Gareth, as he prepared to open the first door. Again with the elf beside him and the friar behind, he nudged the door with his shoulder and it opened wide onto a scene of disarray and clutter. Broken furniture cluttered about the room and the remains of pots and crockery lay all over. Old utensils, blackened with rust and dirt, were kicked aside as they stepped into what used to be the kitchen area of the temple. In one corner stood a fireplace with and old bent rod for hanging pots on leaning precariously out against the wall.

Brother Larkin looked about the room. “There is nothing quite so sad as a kitchen gone to pot!” he sighed.

Gareth smiled. “Let’s look about and see if we can find anything that might lead us to some answers.” The two men began poking through the jumble of junk while the woman began running her hands across the walls and looking at shelves and such.

A minute or two later Aelyra called out. “I think I’ve found something.” She was kneeling in the hearth itself and Gareth had some time kneeling beside her and poking his head into the hearth. Dirty black ash rubbed off onto their clothes and armour.

“What did you find?”

Aelyra took her gloved hand and placed it on the floor against the back of the hearth. “Here. There seems to be a crack running the length of the hearth about an inch wide.”

Gareth poked his gauntlet forward and the tips of his fingers disappeared in to a crack. “So? It’s a crack in the floor.”

“Take off your gauntlet and hold your hand above it,” advised the elf. She took of her glove and held it an inch or so above the crack. Gareth did the same and held his hand the same way.

“I don’t notice anything different,” he said.

She sighed and muttered, “You humans are always so closed to the world around you. Can’t you feel that? A draft!”

Gareth, although rankled a bit at the elf’s attitude, held his hand out again. Now that she had pointed him at what to look for her he did indeed feel a light draft coming up from the crack. He put his hand down and ran it along the crack. The edge was smooth like brick, not rough as unhewn stone. He poked his head against the wall and looked down the crack. All he could see was darkness. He turned and looked up and found that he was looking up the chimney of the fireplace. He then sat back on his heels as Aelyra was and looked at her.

“It’s as if air is being drawn up and out through the flue.”

“Yes,” said the elf, “But why? If this is the kitchen then why have a crack in the fireplace?”

The two looked at each other. Gareth’s eyes slitted slightly and he licked his lips. “I think it means that there is something underneath us, below the temple.”

Brother Larkin looked at his friend. “But Rao’s temples are always of a simple design, one floor, no cellars. What could be beneath us?”

Aelyra smiled, “That’s a good question Brother Larkin. What say we find out?”

Gareth smiled back. “Yes let’s.”

PART 3 – EXPLORATION

The trio moved out and checked the door next to the kitchen. Brother Larkin opened the small door and peered through. “As I suspected. A monk’s cell.”

“I still think we should check it out,” said Aelyra. “I was unable to find any door or anything in the kitchen. There might be a secret door fixed in any one of these rooms.”

“I agree,” said the knight. “Let’s just be safe and check each room.”

The adventurers went about searching each cell carefully, Aelyra being certain that there was something not right about this place. After all, why would that crack in the hearth in the kitchen be there? She was sure that there was something underneath the temple. And if there was, there had to be a way down to it.

After checking two or three of the rooms they found themselves at the archway leading into the garden. Gareth looked out into the atrium, lit by the early afternoon sun. The garden was overgrown with weeds and vines. A low pond was set against the north wall, its water black and inky. The knight could discern even at this range that the water was still enough to have a small crusting of ice covering it in the winter’s chill. He could see the circular dais with its two steps leading up to it in the centre of the garden. Smooth, ivory-toned pillars supported a simple domed roof, which offered a modicum of shade.

Aelyra was looking as well and the two could just make out what looked like a cloaked or robed figure standing in the middle of the gazebo-like structure, just standing and watching them.

“Is that someone watching us?” inquired the priest, peering over the others’ shoulders.

The pretty elf shook her head, her long dark locks drifting slightly in the small breeze. “I don’t think so. It is too still for someone watching us. Perhaps it is a statue?”

“I think you’re right in that,” said Gareth. “Let’s continue on and see what else we can find.”

After a last look at the figure in the shadows, they pushed on to the next door. As they opened this one a sleek dark shape lunged out of the shadowed room and attacked them. It was a large rat, almost two or three feet in length! It jumped up and nipped at the elf’s arm, gashing Aelyra’s elbow with its nasty yellowed teeth. Another ran up from behind it and two more could be seen lunging toward them from the far corner of the room.

“Watch out!” cried Gareth as he blocked the rush with his shield and swung his heavy sword down onto the head of one of the rats, crushing its skull with the force of its blow. Brother Larkin was busy circling and feinting with the other two rats, which had now squeezed out into the passageway and were nipping at his legs. He was fending them off with his shield and trying to club them with his heavy mace. Under his breath his companions could hear him spitting out oaths to the gods, particularly St. Cuthbert, as he and the two dirty animals feinted and dodged each other.

Aelyra, after parrying another lunge by the rat and feeling a light twinge in her arm, began a chant. A deep rich tone to it and a rhythm that was at the same time strong and haunting filled the air. As the rat surged at her again she took a half step sideways and, turning slightly on one foot spun her graceful sword in a broad arc around and over to drive the delicate point straight into the eye of the creature. Then she stepped back slightly and, reversing her sword in her grip drew it from the body of the dead rat. With a flash she brought it forward and across to skewer the second rat that was trying to get at the friar, just as Brother Larkin’s mace connected with the other rat, crushing its ribcage and sending it flying across the hallway to smack lifelessly against the wall. Through all this Aelyra’s chanting could be heard, only quieting when the last breath of life gasped from the rat she had killed.

They looked at the dead rodents lying about the hall. Then they looked at each other. Gareth and Brother Larkin exchanged small quick smiles. Aelyra just stood there, calmly wiping her sword with a cloth.

“Well,” said Gareth, “That was a bit of excitement. Those damned things get into everything if they are left unchecked.”

“Which I gather from the state of disrepair of this temple that these were,” said Aelyra, sheathing the shimmering silvery blade once more. She then tugged at the sleeve of her tunic, a small tear and stain of blood the only remnants of the group’s attack by the rats.

Brother Larkin stepped forward saying, “Here, let me have a look at that.”

“No bother, Brother Larkin. It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse in practices back home.”

Gareth chuckled. “I believe you. Your style with a blade is unlike anything I’ve ever seen… and very graceful.”

“Thank you,” replied the bladesinger as she tugged on her sword belt slightly, readjusting it to make herself more comfortable.

“It was quite impressive,” the knight continued. “I don’t suppose that you could teac…”

“No.”

“But…”

“No.”

“I think,” the portly cleric interjected, “That she means that she couldn’t teach it to you, and probably wouldn’t if she could.”

“Oh,” said Gareth, trying to hide his disappointment.

“It’s not that you couldn’t learn it,” added Aelyra. “It’s just that you don’t meet the qualifications. You don’t have the capacity to handle the bladesong. You don’t have fifty to seventy years to practice it. And you’re not an elf.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“Anyway let’s be off,” said the cleric. And with that they stepped up to the corner of the hallway as it ran around the atrium.

Peering around the corner they saw that, aside from the door directly in front of them, there was a door just like it at the far end of the corridor. These doors stood at either end of the hallway and in the middle stood a pair of large double doors. These doors were set just opposite the archway into the atrium in this section of corridor.

“I think we should continue with the pattern we have set so far,” said the elf.

“I agree,” said Gareth. “I don’t want to leave something unexplored behind us. Let’s check the area behind this door first.”

The room was revealed to be an office or receiving chamber of sorts, the only door out of it leading to what was obviously once the inner sanctum of the high priest. More broken furniture and dust and other indications of decay and neglect were about the rooms. A small door in the east wall of the bedchamber led to a long and narrow vestry area. From here another simple door led out of the vestry.

Gareth reached out and slowly pushed open the door.

The room before them was quite large. There was another remarkable point about this room. It was in pristine condition. The tile on the floor was alternating green and white, shining in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the long narrow windows. The frescoes on the walls were still clear in colour and definition.

Dominating the room on a small raised section of floor was a statue of a robed figure, the god Rao. It stood looking at the main area of the chamber, its arms raised slightly to the side in a benevolent gesture, a look of serene peace on its face.

As they stood taking in the grandeur of the chamber Brother Larkin pointed into the room, “Look!”

Scattered about the worship area were a number of skeletons. As they cautiously stepped forward and looked at the corpses scattered about they noticed a few things. First, Gareth could determine these people had been dead for a few months at least. They were charred and twisted, scorch marks covering their equipment. Some had swords that had been discoloured and twisted into strange shapes. One skeletal hand held the remains of a dagger that had been melted and fused with the bones of its owner.

Brother Larkin stood over one body that was sprawled out to one side, its hand stretching toward the wall, almost pointing. He nudged a broken piece of chalk from the grip of the skeleton. “I think we have found our graffiti artists.”

Aelyra and Gareth stood in the middle of the room, surveying the remains. She turned to him, “I think we’ve found your bandits.”

“I think you’re right,” replied the man. “Their disappearance would dovetail nicely with what I figure to be when these people were killed.”

“And,” Added the friar, “Their desecration – or attempt at desecration – of this worship area might have invoked the divine wrath of the god and – POOF!”

They looked at the calm and serene face of the statue of Rao.

Gareth cleared his throat. “Let’s move on then. Shall we?”

Aelyra glanced from the statue to him. “I think we shall.”

Aside from the two double doors that obviously opened into the atrium corridor, another door was set into the wall opposite from the one they had entered by. They went through this one and found themselves in the monks’ vestry. Once again, the mess of the rest of the temple was evident, leaving only the worship area untouched, aside from its dozen or so silent messengers to tell what happened to those who might defile temples.

The next room, connected to this by a single door and leading back into the outside corridor, was the common area for the temple. This would be where the monks congregated and met for meals and communal activities.

As Aelyra was checking this room she paused in one corner. Her boot had tapped on something that sounded different. As she pulled a carpet away from the corner where it had lain crumpled and dirty, a discoloration in the tile was revealed. “I think I’ve found something.”

“Hmm,” mused Brother Larkin, “It seems we might have found a hidden trapdoor.”

Gareth poked the tile with his toe. “And if it is, it would lead down.” All three exchanged glances and small smiles crept across their faces.

All three knelt down and began exploring the floor with their hands; Aelyra took her gloves off and ran her hands along the edge of the different coloured tile. “I can’t seem to find any seam or anything else to indicate a triggering device.”

“Can you find anything that might help?”

She ran the palm of her hands along the tile. “No. Nothing.” She huffed in frustration. After a few more minutes of searching, she gave up.

“Well,” said Brother Larkin, “At least we can go back and tell them that we know what had happened to the bandits.”

“But I KNOW that there is SOMETHING under us!” The two men had never seen their friend as agitated as she was now.

Gareth laid his hand gently on her arm; “We can come back…”

Aelyra, frowning prettily, sighed. “I just know…”

***

Aelyra fussed about the puzzle of what might lie under the temple all the way back to the castle.

When they were about halfway back to the baron’s seat, Gareth perked up suddenly. The three adventurers stiffened as if to react to something. All seemed still. In fact he spotted deer off some distance and directed the elf to look. The deer was just pulling at some bark on a sapling at the edge of a small thicket. But even this glimpse of nature couldn’t rouse the bladesinger from her funk.

Brother Larkin and the knight exchanged glances and then, the two of them shrugging, the party rode off as if nothing had happened.

Only after they were well off did one of the small mounds of snow near the thicket move as a little green arm holding a nocked arrow in a small bow peeked out from within it…

***

Aelyra’s puzzlement had not abated as the trio walked down the lane of the village towards the little hut on the fringes of town. Sir Chester, Gareth’s father, could make neither head nor tail of the story. He had directed them back to Brigid and she had subsequently told them that they might try Old Dermot.

Gareth thought this a little passing strange but Brigid couldn’t help as divine magic was beyond her ken. She avowed that the old gardener was their best source of information. As they approached the hut they couldn’t help but wonder what she had meant. After all … he was a gardener!

The door to Dermot’s cottage hung slightly open and Gareth poked his head in. The old man was seated cross-legged on the rather dirty floor, small piles of various dried plants circled about him. He was in the process of taking bits of leaf off each of the piles, scrunching it up between his fingers, then shoving the crushed leaf under his nose and inhaling deeply. The various different effects of this action caused him to make the strangest of faces, some curious, many sour.

Gareth knocked on the doorframe.

“Eh?! Ah, come in son!” called out the old man roused from his studious pastime. “Pray, enter my humble abode!” This was indeed an apropos description for as they entered they could see the cottage strewn with piles of plants in various states of drying, the rafters decorated with many sprigs of different trees and bushes and herbs. A small table cluttered with more plants, flowers, and a host of what appeared to be alchemical appliances stood against one shabby wall. Papers were strewn about the room.

Brother Larkin spoke up, “Umm, we’re not disturbing something important are we?’

“Gods in the heavens, no!” replied Dermot, his pale eyes gleaming. “I was just studying the various different olfactory qualities of some of the various different herbs I’ve collected over the last season. ‘Learning never stops,’ as they say.”

Not wanting to get into a long drawn-out discussion as to who ‘they’ might be, Gareth came right out and said, “Brigid told us that you might be able to help us with a small puzzle we’ve come across.”

“Eh? Puzzle? What’s that?”

The elf woman stepped forward and spoke up. “We’ve come across an old abandoned temple in the hills south of here. We also found indications that there was something UNDERNEATH this abandoned temple.”

Dermot sat staring at the woman. “What kind of temple do you think you’ve found?”

“An old abandoned temple to Rao,” said the cleric. “It seems to have seen a long period of neglect as well.”

“Rao you say? Why there hasn’t been an organised sect of his followers in these parts for ages! This is most interesting.” The old man looked at the elf. “And you say you think there is something under the temple proper?”

“Yes. We’ve found evidence of some kind of entryway and a flue in a chimney that leads from below,” said Aelyra.

“Well, let’s see what I can help with here,” said Dermot. With that he stood up and, turning, opened a large chest which he had been leaning up against whilst sitting on the floor.

Inside the chest were a number of books, most very old. He began sifting through them and placing some on the floor. From where they were standing the group could just read some of the titles: ‘Finrod’s Aspects of Divine Worship’, ‘A Treatise on Monasteries of the Sheldomar’, ‘Pray This Way’ by Gilbert Macalthwain. All very old and learned tomes to be sure.

Aelyra looked askance at Gareth and Brother Larkin. They both looked at her and shrugged their shoulders. “I thought he was just an old gardener,” said Gareth by way of some explanation.

The old man looked up at them as he thumbed through a volume, “Oh, I mostly study plants and such but the unusual and supernatural have always been something of a hobby of mine.” He went back to looking at his book.

Brother Larkin looked about at some of the herbs dangling from the ceiling. Some he recognised from his time spent hanging about the kitchens. But others he couldn’t even begin to identify. Idly, he wondered what some might do if used in a soup…

“All I can find on the worship of Rao,” said Dermot after looking through a few of the books, “is that if they were in areas removed from the main track they were mostly monastic orders. These were of simple construction, one floor only housing some twenty to thirty brothers and sisters of worship. There is nothing in here about any constructs beneath these rustic temples beyond the occasional crypts. Definitely nothing that would require a chimney of any kind or trap doors and such.”

“Nothing?” queried Aelyra.

“No, nothing. They are a very plain and simple order in their rural environs. But I would be most interested in hearing what you might find if you search more. I presume you are going back to look again?”

Gareth was just about to say something and had just opened his mouth when Aelyra spoke up, “Of course we’re going back. Who knows what we might find.” Her eyes were lit up with a certain fire her two companions hadn’t seen before in her. She noticed this and, blushing slightly at having spoken up like this, added, “After all… There may be more bandits.”

“Yes – Well!” said Gareth, “We might as well have a good meal tonight and then start back again in the morning. Maybe I can get some men out of father. If there are more bandits, we’ll need our rest.”

The old man saw them to the door of the cottage and waved them on their way. He paused and then he leaned on the door. “And I do hope it’s only bandits.”

And with that, he closed the door.

END OF CHAPTER 2

CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 3 – RETURNING TO THE MYSTERY