The Companions of Tartiël (36 page)

XXIX.

Dingo leaned back in his chair, which threatened to topple over and drop him onto his rear if he wasn’t careful. “The next day dawns bright and early, and all of you wake up feeling rested and… well, probably not exactly refreshed, but the next best thing you can afford.”

We all chuckled at his words. Matt looked at me and Xavier. “Well, are we gonna get my hand glued back on today?”

Both of us nodded, and I replied, “That’s right. We’ll go do that first thing after breakfast. I’ll ask the desk clerk where we might find temples of… oh, I guess Arvanos Sinterian.” It seemed the most logical place for Kaiyr to seek out, especially considering the second item on my agenda, which I had already discussed with the other guys out-of-game since the subject was taboo in-game.

Dingo nodded and launched into a description of what we were doing. “Okay, well, he shows you a map of the city, which is absolutely enormous; the entirety of Ik’durel is about fifteen miles in diameter. There are three temples of Arvanos in the city, and the largest one is actually the nearest, about forty-five minutes away by coach, or closer to two hours on foot.”

I looked at the other guys, and we shared a nod. “We’ll ride,” I said, knocking off a few silver from my inventory even though Dingo had already told us the transportation was free. Who ever said nobody liked tips?

“You arrive at the temple after nearly an hour’s ride. It’s of typical elven architecture, which is to say, it’s gorgeous. Made of sparkling white stone, its main entrance arch is flanked by graceful spires.”

“We’ll head inside,” I said as the spokesperson for the group at large.

“Okay, well, the inside of the temple is as beautiful as the outside. Today is not a day of worship, and the main hall is tranquil despite a small number of acolytes cleaning the place. One of them looks up as you enter and motions to someone else, dressed in priests’ robes, that they have visitors.

“The cleric, a male elf, strides over to you and bows.
Welcome, visitors
, he says in Elven.
Welcome to this temple dedicated to He Who Came Before. I am Altaïr. How may I aid you?
”

He looked at me, since this was largely my expedition. I gave a humble gesture from my seat. “I bow, too, in the manner of blademasters.
Greetings, Father Altaïr. I am Blademaster Kaiyr, and these are my companions, Lady Solaria, Masters Wild and Caineye, and Vinto, the wolf.
”

“
Hello
,” Matt said for Wild, raising one hand with the sleeve pulled up to represent his character’s lost hand. “I bow, too.”

“So do I,” Xavier said. “
Well met, Father Altaïr.
”

Dingo, roleplaying Altaïr, raised an eyebrow for the elven cleric, impressed. “
Ah, and your friends are well-versed in the elven tongue, Blademaster Kaiyr. You keep impressive company.
”

“
I do
, I reply humbly,” I said. “
As to our visit, I apologize for our sudden appearance. However, as you can see, Master Wild recently lost his hand, and we seek divine healing in order to restore it.
” Dingo hesitated after I spoke, as though Altaïr were waiting for something else. Quickly, I added, “
We do have a sizeable donation to offer.
”

The DM raised his hand and shook his head. “
A donation is not necessary; I was merely concerned about the materials necessary to sacrifice to Arvanos Sinterian for such healing. We have recently exhausted many of our supplies treating an epidemic that has since been eliminated, but if you bring your own sacrifice, then the process will be that much simpler.
” He then picked up his d20 and rolled it without telling us what he was rolling for, which usually meant it was a character’s Spot or Listen check. Raising one eyebrow at his result, Dingo looked over at Matt. “But then Altaïr’s face sours, and he shakes his head at you, Wild.
However, that one we will not treat. He bears the trappings of one of the House of Aile.
He points to the rings you have on your remaining hand.”

Matt glanced at his sheet. “Well, considering I’m only wearing the constable’s ring and the one I swiped off the elder of Andorra, I assume it’s the second one. I raise my hand.
You mean this? Oh, I was just curious about how pretty it was. It’s not actually mine; it belongs to some old geezer a thousand miles away.
”

Dingo cut the air with one hand and pointed ahead, as though he were directing us toward the door. “
Begone, you who defile this temple
, Altaïr says angrily.”

“Oh, shit,” I cursed, glancing down at my character sheet. “Um, I’m going to try to convince him that Wild really isn’t part of this alehouse.”

“House of Aile,” Dingo corrected. “It’s a last name, spelled a-i-l-e.”

I nodded. “
Father Altaïr, I beg of you but a moment more of your time. Master Wild is not part of this House of Aile, with which my friends and I are not familiar. He…
I give Wild a really perturbed look.
…has a tendency to ‘acquire’ others’ belongings. It is troubling, but it is in his nature as a young halfling.
”

“Altaïr gives you a troubled look. Um, roll a Diplomacy check.”

I rolled my d20, and although I only had a few ranks in the Diplomacy skill, I had a few miscellaneous bonuses; five ranks in the Sense Motive skill grants a +2 bonus to Diplomacy checks (because a character good at reading other people can generally respond better to them), and the robes (“dress,” Matt and Xavier would say) Kaiyr crafted on our first airship ride were slightly magical and granted my blademaster a +2 on Diplomacy. “Um, how’s a twenty-one?” I asked after having rolled a 15.

Dingo mulled over my result, which apparently beat the DC he had set, nodding his head left and right. “All right. Altaïr calms down and looks at you, Kaiyr.
Far be it from me to question the company a blademaster keeps
, he says with a sigh.”

I nodded curtly, as was Kaiyr’s fashion. “
Not all of us are born of the blood of the First Father. However, Master Wild has proven his worth at my side. I promise he will cause no trouble to you, and I will ferry him from these hallowed grounds as quickly as possible.
”

Dingo sighed. “
All right
, Altaïr agrees reluctantly,
Brother Kolatev will perform the ritual in one of our private chapels. Walk with me, all of you.
He leads you through the main sanctuary and then turns down a side corridor about halfway down the hall. Nearing the end of the hall, he opens a door and leads you inside.
Wait here
, he says,
I will find Brother Kolatev for you.
”

I looked at Xavier and Matt, who merely shrugged. “All right. We’ll wait.”

“Well, in about ten minutes, the door opens again, and Altaïr returns with another elven cleric who introduces himself as Kolatev. He’s ready to cast the spell.”

“All right, I cough up the nine hundred and ten gold for the spell,” I said. We had gotten quite the impressive treasure haul from Sayel to make up for the lack of treasure gained since the events in Andorra, and we had deducted these funds from the hoard before divvying it out to the rest of the group.

Dingo threw up his hands in a gesture of closure. “He casts the spell, and Wild’s hand reattaches itself to his arm, good as new.”

“I wiggle my fingers,” Matt said contentedly, mimicking the action in his chair.

“
Now
,” Dingo said, “
Please escort your companion from our church, and I bid you not bring him here again.
”

*

Altaïr nodded to Kaiyr as Caineye led the way outside with Vinto and Solaria and pushing Wild before him; the halfling continued to stare at his hand as though it were some newfound gem. “I was always wondering what it would be like to regenerate a body part,” he said as he descended the steps before the temple.

Kaiyr, however, did not follow. Altaïr had turned away to return to whatever he had been doing prior to the blademaster’s arrival with his friends. But that elven sixth sense told the cleric that there was still some kind of unfinished business, so he paused and slowly looked over his shoulder to see the blademaster standing alone in the hall. “I am sorry, Blademaster Kaiyr. Was there something else?”

Nodding, the dark-haired elf strode forward to join the cleric. “Two items, actually, Father Altaïr. I apologize for troubling you so, particularly regarding my small companion.”

Altaïr glanced down thoughtfully, then raised a hand and set it gently on the blademaster’s shoulder. “It is not you nor your choice with whom or which I take exception, you must understand. The House of Aile… is widely known in some circles for its great corruption, and many of its dealings have resulted directly in the deaths of many clergy of the nobler gods, Arvanos Sinterian included. Whether or not yon halfling speaks truth about the origins of his ring, I cannot let that symbol be seen inside this church; in fact, I urge you to rid yourselves of such a dangerous object as soon as possible.” He let his hand fall back to his side and gave Kaiyr a warm smile. “Now, child of Arvanos, what can I do for you?”

Reaching inside his right sleeve, Kaiyr produced a small bundle of white cloth tied securely with several pieces of twine. “Before I unveil this ring, I must caution you to not touch it directly. It is a thing of great evil, as well as the reason Master Wild lost his hand.” Slowly, carefully so as not to come into contact with Sayel’s ring, Kaiyr unfolded the cloth.

Altaïr gasped and took a step backward, raising one hand to his mouth. “By the gods! Do you even know what you have there?”

Pursing his lips, Kaiyr shook his head. “No. I know only that it is vile. Master Wild thought it merely a trinket belonging to one of our vanquished enemies, and he took it for himself.”

Swallowing shakily, the cleric nodded his accord. “And then it worked its way into his mind, making him commit terrible sins against the world. The only way to separate it from him was to remove the hand that did the deeds.”

“Yes.”

“It is called a Terth-blade, or simply a Terth by those who carry them. To the uninitiated, such artifacts are insidious in twisting victims to their ways. And, in the hands of those for whom they are crafted, they can be dangerous weapons. You say this was taken from an enemy? You and your friends must be mighty, indeed, if you defeated a foe wielding a Terth.”

Still holding Sayel’s Terth-blade, Kaiyr accepted the praise with a humble bow of his head. “I make no claim to power; it was only through intense cooperation that we defeated one who called herself Sayel, some terrible fallen angel whose master, she claims, is soon to appear before mortals.” A thought struck the blademaster suddenly, and he glanced to the side before looking back at Altaïr. “Claimed,” he corrected himself, eliciting a chuckle from the cleric.

“I have not heard of any malign beings making preparations to enter the Material Plane,” Altaïr said. “I shall be patient and trust in Arvanos to warn us of any such danger.”

“And I shall fight against this invasion, should it happen,” Kaiyr agreed. “For now, however, I wish to know if you and your clergymen are capable of destroying this thing. I have been carrying it around with me for longer than I care to. Even without touching it, I can feel its tendrils struggling to find a way past my mental and spiritual defenses.”

With a sigh, Altaïr reluctantly held out his hand. “Fold it back up, and we shall destroy it within the hour. Fortunately, despite the difficulty with which Terth-blades are made, they are simple to unmake.”

Kaiyr folded the cloth back around the Terth-blade and handed it to the other robed elf, who took it and carefully held it before him, not daring to tuck it away in case the dangerous ring came loose. “What was the other matter you wished to discuss?”

The blademaster’s visage darkened, and Altaïr could read the hurt in Kaiyr’s eyes despite decades of training to mask and compartmentalize emotions. “Is something the matter?” the cleric asked when Kaiyr did not reply for several breaths.

Snorting lightly, Kaiyr shook his head. “The world has not been kind to me and my companions. I… We recently lost a very close friend and ally for the cause of good. It was, in fact, during the battle with this Sayel that she was killed.” He paused to grind his teeth together so they wouldn’t chatter and to give him a moment to stabilize his wavering voice. “I wish to commune with our Father and entreat him to return her soul to her body in renewed life.”

Altaïr’s expression softened, and he would have touched the blademaster’s shoulder again if his hands weren’t full. “Someone you cared for,” he reasoned. “Young blademaster, meddling in the affairs of life and death is not something to be undertaken lightly. Some things are meant to be, and some are meant to not be.”

Kaiyr’s head fell with the weight he felt on his shoulders. “I know, Father Altaïr. But… her work in this world is not yet finished. I… She may have knowledge of Sayel’s allies, stronghold, and perhaps even this mysterious ‘master’ coming to our world.”

Silence followed the blademaster’s words as Altaïr searched Kaiyr’s face for several minutes. At last, he spoke: “You must understand…. It is not often that we entertain such requests; most of them are frivolous in nature. But I sense that your need is great, and your motives true. Return tomorrow, and we shall call upon Father Arvanos for answers. He will require of you a great offering.”

“I am prepared.”

Altaïr nodded. “Then, I shall meet with you on the morrow before noon. For now, I have matters to which I must attend. I and the rest of the clergy must prepare for this ceremony.”

Kaiyr bowed as Altaïr turned toward the altar, still gingerly clutching the Terth-blade. As the blademaster turned to go, he paused. “Oh, Father Altaïr,” he said. The cleric stopped, and Kaiyr gave his new amulet the silent, mental command to activate it. He had been fooled once too often by those whose intentions seemed benevolent, and he was not willing to take another such risk. The two stared at each other for a few moments, until the cleric raised an eyebrow. Kaiyr shook his head. “You have my deepest gratitude,” he said with another bow.