“As far as we know, he was sent here by an evil mage looking for the Black Opal Eye. When I asked the Rahib of his progress in that endeavour, he said that he served new masters now. But Hasan, what do you know of the origins of this temple, anything would be useful in identifying what we are to face.”
“I don’t know about you fellows but I am quite tried after all this running about and fighting. You might all be fine but I am certainly not. I need to sit and think. I don’t know about Maruc but I also need to recommit my incantations to memory. I know what I said earlier about pushing on but Hasan has not mentioned any sightings of the Rahib’s masters so I’m guessing that we are safe here for the moment.”
Miklos slumped down onto the top step and rubbed his eyes. He opened his spellbook but before reading he looked over to Hasan. “Do you speak common tongue?” he said in elvish. “It’s only polite to the others and a thought occurs to me, perhaps you might see if the other Siswa have been released from the Charm. There are some tied up beyond the Temple doors where we entered. Your assistance in this matter would be greatly appreciated, when we have discovered that we can make plans to locate your Elrond.”
Maruc flipped the symbol over in his hands, “Why would these clerics risk confrontation with Ilsundal? It baffles me, but then we are not dealing with sane people.” He stretched and shrugged his armour about to try to make it more comfortable. “I need to rest too. I am incomfortable with the idea of further fighting without Halav’s aid.”
The elf looked at Maruc and answered, in common, “yes, I speak common. give me that symbol, so i can remember who helped this man, if it is indeed him, do what he did to my home. I know nothing about the Rahib’s master and believe that he had none.”
After taking the symbol and tucking it away in his robe, the elf addressed the assembled group, “you must tell me how you came to this sacred place. I will rest with you for a moment if you will help me seek out Elrond. Show me the Siswa and I will try to speak with them, but until now, they have all been enchanted and know nothing of the terrible things they are doing …” The elf looked away and then continued, “…to themselves, to our temple, or to our village.”
With a visible effort, the elf pulled himself together and turned to the dwarf. “And you—dwarf—your own kind helped build this temple. Why do you not wear the raiment befitting such sacred ground? Do you wonder why the Guardian attacked you?”
“You let the dwarves build you a temple?” Saeth was incredulous. “Surely not!” It wasn’t long before she began to chuckle, however. “So, Feldard, did your ancestors put in some passageway over there, against the possibility some Dwarf might get stuck down here? In any case, let us rest a moment and be off. The sooner we find this Elrond, the better.”
“You don’t think we Elves would dig this far under ground, do you? Of course the dwarves did this digging,” said Hasan with a smile.
“With the magics about, I haven’t the faintest how far underground we are.” Saeth hoped her irritation at failing to notice that descent didn’t show. “What puzzles me, of course, is why anyone would WANT to dig this far underground, anyway.” She knelt, cleaning her sword to hide her burst of emotion.
Feldard still stood on the last step of the stairs that led into the octagonal room. He could understand now the talk as they had turned the topic on to him and his kind. He snorted. “Raiment befitting such sacred ground? You mean all this time the thrice-damnable thing was after me because I wasn’t in robes? Bah, dwarves weren’t meant to wear robes. We were meant for armor.”
He tugged slightly at his platemail wear it chaffed a bit. “Mind you, if it’ll save me having to fend off its lame elf-trained attacks, I’m willing to try a Siswa robe over my armor. For the good of the party, of course.”
The priest looked up for his prayer and grinned and the Dwarf. He shook his head at some prvate inner joke ane returned to his meditaions.
It had been a long day for the group. After many battles, they took some time to rest in the octagonal chamber. The area was silent, so the spellcasters were able to concentrate on their craft. They had defeated the Rahib, and presumed that they had, for the moment, a chance to relax.
Once their spells were attained, the group began to stir and continued to plot their next move. Suddenly, the western door flew open and a small army of skeletons burst into the chamber.