Oath of Nerull

4

Ember, Brek Gorunn, and their captive made good time after leaving Volanth, hiking along a well-traveled road toward New Koratia. The Fair Warrior Inn was a welcome respite to camping along the road. Ember shared a room with Brek and their captive for security. But in the morning, a scream disturbed Ember's sleep.

She rose from her cot, reaching smoothly for her sandals. One was laced up before she realized that Brek was gone. And the prisoner was gone, too! Ember uttered an oath and laced up her remaining sandal in record time, then dashed into the corridor outside the room. Several people stood near the end of the hallway.

If Brek rose early, she wondered, why would he leave and take the prisoner with him?

A dark-haired man in a cape stood in an open doorway. He signaled to someone past Ember's room, a sleepy-eyed but scared gnome standing in the doorway of another guest room near the opposite end of the hallway. There was only one way to interpret the gesture; someone had died.

Ember called the dark-haired man. "You, with the cape! What's going on?"

The man looked at her, glanced back into the room, then moved up to stand next to her. She noticed his bare feet and legs, plus an interesting tattoo of two dragons on his chest.

"I am Hennet," said the caped man. "I'm afraid there is a murderer among us. A woman lies dead in that room. And she died by unnaturally cruel means. She looks partly melted." The man hesitated as he spoke this last bit, obviously unsettled.

limber stiffened at the news. She pushed past Hennet to take a look herself. At her back, she heard the taverner tramping up the stairs, yelling for guests to return to their rooms. Ember paid him no mind. In the room, she saw the scene described by Hennet.

She'd half hoped to also find Brek Gorunn (but, gods preserve, not as the victim). Brek spoke of those slain in her own order as partly dissolved as if by alchemical acid-the similarity of this woman's condition couldn't be a simple coincidence.

Where has that dwarf gotten to? she wondered.

The taverner looked into the room and told Ember, "Clear out! The authorities are on their way."

Ember didn't care to see the grisly scene any longer, anyway. She left the room and accosted the taverner. "Has anything like this happened before?" she asked.

Ember noticed that most of the guests were returning to their rooms, happy to let someone else deal with the problem. Only the caped man, Hennet, and his friend the gnome remained interested.

The taverner gave Ember an appraising look. "Happened before? Of course not. What an idea!" he said, rubbing his nose nervously.

Ember continued, "Fine. Have you seen my companion out and about this morning? You remember, the dwarf I arrived with last night? It is unsettling to find a murder and a missing person on the same morning-I'm worried about him."

Hennet moved to stand closer to the taverner, fixing him with a penetrating look, and a few beads of sweat broke out on the man's brow.

"Why ask me? I haven't seen your dwarf friend or anyone else this morning. I just woke up. Perhaps he went outside for a breath of air." The taverner rubbed his nose again. Ember tried to meet his gaze, but the man stared determinedly at the door to the victim's room. He continued, "Now, excuse me, I must investigate-the Duke's Rangers must be told of this tragedy. Stand aside, let me pass."

Ember gave ground with poor grace, allowing the taverner into the murder room. The gnome from the end of the hallway moved up to Hennet and handed him some leather leggings and boots. Hennet dressed himself without embarrassment in the hallway. Ember paid no attention; she watched the taverner. All that nose-rubbing and sweating…the man was hiding something.

The taverner walked without much confidence into the room, gazed on the sight, and gagged. When he turned away, his eyes were glazed. He was whispering to himself, apparently forgetting Ember's presence at the door.

"I've got to get them out of here. Out! No amount of money is worth more of this."

With a wheeze and a gasp, he rushed back into the hallway and thundered down the stairs two at a time.

Ember glanced at Hennet, who was fully dressed, and said, "The taverner-he knows what happened." Without another word, she glided down the stairs after him. The man and the gnome followed her.

The stairs emptied into the common room on the main floor. It held neither Brek Gorunn nor the taverner. Ember heard a clatter in the kitchen. She darted through the half-doors separating the two rooms. Fire danced in a fireplace, and herbs and meats hung from the ceiling. A scattering of iron pots and pans lay on the floor near a wooden rack on the wall. Otherwise the kitchen was orderly and empty.

Hennet and the gnome followed her in, both breathing hard.

"Wait, we want to help!" said Hennet. The gnome looked surprised but said nothing.

Ember paused, then replied, "Fine. What do you suggest?"

The gnome lowered a pair of goggles over his eyes and said, "I'm Nebin Raulnor, a wizard of the arcane arts. Last night I saw something odd in the hallway. I thought it was a dream." The gnome ducked his head, as if ashamed.

Hennet clapped

The gnome on the shoulder. "Are you saying you went out into the hallway last night and saw something there? Why didn't you wake me?" As he spoke, Hennet studied the kitchen. "Those fallen pots seem strangely untidy, compared to the rest of the

place."

Ember rushed to the utensil rack from which the pots had fallen. The wall seemed slightly off kilter, as if its foundation was sinking unevenly-or as if the wall had been moved slightly from its proper place. She put a hand against the iron rack and pushed. With a click, the wall swung way, obviously on a hinge. Beyond was a lightless stairwell leading downward.

Hennet looked into the darkness and said, "How did you know the wall was false?"

"Lucky."

Nebin approached more slowly, looking down the stairs. "You want to go down there?" he asked, looking at Ember, then Hennet.

In answer, Hennet spoke a few words of magic, and his index finger burst into light, bright as a torch, though it gave no heat.

"Show off," sniffed Nebin.

Ember took the lead, followed by Hennet, then the gnome. The stairs were old and worn smooth. Dust was heaped along every margin and corner. Hennet's enchanted light showed a clear path of footprints through the dust.

He whispered, "More than one person has gone this way."

The steps led down to a closed door. A seam of light spilled from beneath it, brighter than Hennet's light. Ember heard murmuring voices. She motioned for silence and sidled up to the door, putting her ear to it. Two voices spoke. One was the taverner, sounding scared. The other voice didn't speak, it just grunted, yet it seemed somehow familiar, which disturbed Ember. In the background, she heard a snatch of prayer-Brek Gorunn?

Ember slammed the door open. Beyond was an earthen chamber supported by stone columns, hung round with greenish lamps. The taverner spoke to two men in red masks! The masks were pulled down around their necks so that their faces were visible. Behind them, a red-masked woman bent over the dwarf, Brek. He sat stiffly with his back to a stone column. His beefy hands were lashed behind him and around the pillar.

"Face me, Nerull-worshipers!" yelled Ember.

She launched a flying kick at the taverner's back. Her foot connected, sending the heavy-set man sprawling into the shadows.

All were caught off guard, including Hennet and Nebin, who stood dumbfounded on the stairs. Neither of them had seen or even heard of these red-masked strangers before, obviously, or heard the name of Nerull spoken in anything but a child's rhyme. It was painfully obvious, however, that the people in the room were up to no good, if the trussed-up dwarf was any indication.

One of the kidnappers regained his composure ahead of the rest. He sprang to attack Ember, using his hands and feet as weapons. Again Ember wondered what deranged order these red-masked devils represented. The man leered at her, his mouth gaping-it was her tongueless former captive! His broken arm and all of his other, lesser injuries were healed, clearly the work of magic. As recognition flashed on Ember's face, her opponent harked out a grating, self-satisfied laugh.

The other red-masked man, more portly and slower than the first, stood back and began chanting. A sickle hung at his side, stained and rusted from much use and little upkeep. On his finger flashed a ring inscribed with the symbol of the skull and sickle. He was a priest of Nerull!

The woman near Brek Gorunn straightened and grabbed a light crossbow slung from her side. It was already cocked. She tried to draw ahead on Ember, but couldn't get a clear shot. She shifted her aim to Hennet, who still stood in the doorway.

Hennet was not unprepared. As the crossbow came up, he released two bolts of his own from his already glowing fingertip. The sorcerous missiles of enchanted force unerringly slammed into the woman. She gasped, but remained upright and fired her crossbow back at the sorcerer. The bolt, retracing the path of Hennet's magical strike, caught the sorcerer in his left arm.

He grunted in pain and surprise. Nebin stepped up next to his wounded friend. The gnome still wore his goggles over his eyes, and in his hands he grasped a wand. It was carved of alder and tipped with a tiny, shining stone. The gnome sighted along the wand, and a splash of clashing colors sprang from the tip to strike the woman trying to re-cock her crossbow. She yelped and dropped to the floor, senseless.

Nebin crowed, "I got one!"

Ember's foe was more cautious than when he last faced her in Volanth. This time he held back, fighting defensively. Three kicks were deflected, and four brutal open-hand blows came to nothing. The man danced to the side, ducked, and backed away, taking little real hurt from her onslaught, but he refrained from exposing himself with attacks of his own. Ember had little time to wonder what he was waiting for.

The portly man's chanting ceased; the priest of Nerull had finished his invocation. A spark of pale green light appeared in midair. The spark gained volume and shape over the space of a heartbeat, and a horror materialized from the sickening light.

The beast was shaped something like a newborn human child, crossed with a giant slug. It was almost man-sized, but it oozed along the floor like a worm, dripping with pale green slime. Its visage was pure horror. The gnome quivered for a moment, then turned and ran.

Ember felt a wave of fear break over her. Her insides churned as her throat constricted to a knot. She wanted to scream, to faint, but most of all to flee. She shot a desperate look at Hennet. The sorcerer seemed to be wavering on the doorstep. Terror twisted his face into a grotesque mask, yet the look from Ember galvanized him.

He yelled, "Nebin! Get back here!"

But the gnome's footfalls were already fading up the stairwell. Ember was glad for any company at all.

The priest of Nerull called aloud to the slug-thing, "Serve us, as we have served you, oh Abyssal Child, oh Servitor of our lord Nerull." He clutched his sickle and moved toward Ember.

The horrid child-face of the slug regarded Hennet. Then it spoke in its cracked, pipe-organ voice, declaring, "I'm going to eat you. First your hands, then your feet, then your heart."

The sorcerer recoiled in disgust. As the abyssal child squirmed toward him, Hennet made a great leap over the thing's back. The creature snapped at him but missed. Ember breathed easier when she saw the sorcerer dart up to Brek Gorunn's side.

If I don't do something to even the odds, thought Ember, these two will finish me.

As the priest's scythe arced toward her, she moved as if to step backward. Lured on by the ruse, the priest stepped forward only to meet the full impact of Ember's circle kick to the crown of his head. She felt the blow travel up her arch into the muscles of her leg. It was a good strike, and the priest fell like a stone.

The abyssal child wormed toward Hennet, who sawed frantically at Brek Gorunn's bindings with a dagger.

"Come on, man!" yelped the dwarf, with his eye on the monster.

Not a second too soon, the line parted. Hennet fell back and the dwarf leaped up and to the side, toward the corner where his captors had tossed his warhammer.

Whirling and striking at the same time, the dwarf swung his hammer desperately and bounced it across the creature's rounded back. Even that glancing blow brought a scream from the monstrous thing, followed by a gobbet of acid. The liquid struck Brek's mail armor, where it sizzled and fumed into a thin line of curling smoke.

Hennet murmured another spell to release two more magical holts of enchantment. They whined through the air and scorched into the creature, which was barely beyond the sorcerer's reach.

It quivered, expanded, and spewed a noxious cloud that fouled the air in the small room as it collapsed. A second later, it faded away as if it had never been.

Brek Gorunn rushed up behind Ember's opponent. Caught off guard, the red-masked man tried to run, but the dwarf's deadly hammer sent him crashing to the stone floor.