Private Tales Choosing my Religion

[Rämna Sisters]

Faith's cry was not heeded by the majority of the party, and with good reason. The villagers were maddened beyond reason. They did not respond to orders or pleas, and unless they were knocked out at once, they got right back up.

She was not a fighter, she didn't even have a weapon. This was supposed to be an investigation, a rescue mission. Her role was to heal, not to harm, and so she retreated behind the armed party. It was terrible to watch, but despite her pleading voice the villagers did not stop, and the swords kept swinging.

She did what she could to help. Planting her feet and squaring her shoulders, she reached for the divine power held within, the light that had been granted to her this very morning through her prayers. She pushed out her arms as if to hold back the tides of bodies, and a shimmering golden shield erected itself in front of the group.

It was perhaps ten feet across, and maybe six feet tall, and it took a great deal of effort to maintain. Sweat dripped from her brow and she held the flickering barrier against the crash of bodies. The tides came round the sides, but they were easier to dispatch.

"Brok!" she called, noting that he was still separated. "Come!" She could not managed more than one word at a time, not without losing the shield.

 

[Brock]

Brok kept his sword sheathed because Faith had called on them not to harm the villager. He usually assumed that other people knew more than him. She had been the only one not insult him and that counted for a lot too.

He grabbed one of the villagers by the shoulder. Brok took a step forwards and whipped the villager around and sending him into those in his way.

Brok ran forwards, closing one eye as blood streamed across it. He pulled up sharply ahead of the golden dome. Even growing up in Elbion, he had no understanding of magic at all. It was keeping the villagers at bay but he saw no way through.

"Faith?" he called out. The wind was knocked out of him by someone barrelling into his back. Brok twisted about, getting a thick arm around the woman's torso to tear her away.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

It was all she could do to maintain the barrier against the tide. She could feel the horde pushing at her, trying to claw through, and here and there a hand could flicker through for an instant, only to be repelled back to the other side.

The slaughter continued save for one man. She looked up at Brok's plea and saw him standing before the barrier. Go around! She pleaded with him in her mind but he was knocked down before she could say anything.

What to do? She could not lower the barrier without exposing the rest of them to attack, but Brok would be trapped alone on the other side if she did nothing.

A compromise then. With grit teeth she drew on more divine favor and focused on the shield itself. She leaned into the feeling of it, wincing at each fist and body that railed against it until it was like an extension of herself.

Faith drew her arms apart and the shield parted like a set of doors just before Brok. Hurry, she begged him silently. More villagers would get through the small opening the longer it remained, so she needed to close it the moment he was through.

For better or worse, however, the number of attackers was dwindling.

 

[Brock]

Brok grabbed someone by the back of the head. His thick fingers dug into the scrap as he yanked hair and pulled them aside. He swung wildly, fists going for those ahead, elbows those behind. Fingers tried to find his eye sockets, but he shook his head from side to side and kept on towards the gap in the shield.

He was through, stumbling as he went. Brok looked up to see the point of a crossbow bolt leveled at him. He heard the twang, felt the kiss of air. He felt the thud of it striking home.

A weight slid off his back, leaving warmth across him. The villager that had been carried through the barrier slumped to the floor, the fletchings of the bolt where his eye had been.

"Excellent sport this!"

Brok did not think so.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

Once Brok was through Faith closed the shield once more, but as she did so the edges melted away. It was growing smaller, and the light had begun to flicker. Luckily, though she did not see it that way, the horde had been almost entirely slaughtered.

She realized two things. One: that the villagers would not stop, and two: that she could not maintain this shield for much longer and hope to be of any use in the future. Her belief in her god was absolute, but He had gifted her a finite amount of power for the day. Perhaps she could ask for a second blessing if needed, but it had never yielded the same results. She could feel the magic she did have draining through her arms and into the shining air.

"I cannot hold it," she announced in frustration, making sure that her compatriots at least had some warning before her arms fell and the glimmering barrier vanished. It felt like her limbs had turned to lead, and she was breathing hard, beads of sweat running from her forehead. The fighters of the group should be able to deal with the rest of the onslaught now that their numbers had thinned.

It made no sense to her why this would happen. Only dark magic, she imagined, could do something like this, turn people against each other. What vile experiments were being conducted within these walls? Maybe they could question one of the people... but as she saw another frothing mouth impaled with a spear her hope died alongside it. They would get no answers here, only death.

 

[Brock]

Brok did what he could. He might not have known whether they could ever save the villagers, but he tried. He unwound his scabbard from his belt and tied it to the hilt of his short sword. Using the flat of the blade wrapped in leather, he joined the line of mercenaries and finished the job.

Even those he avoided killing might have suffered grievous wounds. Broken bones didn't always heal straight. Sometimes people never woke from blows to the head. To him it felt like trying to make a difference.

They had lost two of their own. Roland and Gelder still stood, which Brok had expected. Despite the differences between them, they both seemed to know their trade.

Brok checked on one of them. He barely looked a man. He sported a patchy scruff across his chin and carried a sword that looked too big for his frame. The half-orc eyed the blade.

"Take it for now," said a stern voice at his shoulder. It was Roland. "But you will have to return it to his father. A family heirloom. So hard for third sons to prove their worth. Also too fine a sword for an orc to be seen carrying around."

Brok grimaced. There was no spite in what Roland said, only the truth. He took the sword and the scabbard, wiping away the blood. The pommel had a family crest etched into it. The blade marked by the proud smith. It was too fine for him.

Inside the church a single man waited for them. The shepard of the flock. The priest who had run the church. Wearing worn robes of dull shades of blue, he stood before an altar with his back to the mercenaries.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

Faith had seen battle before. This was not the first time she had been on the field, nor would it be the last, but it did not make what she saw any easier to witness. The men, to their credit, kept the horde from reaching her. She stood a the center of the their little band with shields, armor, and blades between her and the oncoming assault. While her barrier had fallen, she kept alert for smaller ways to help. A tiny, momentary shield to stop a single swipe of claws, or a small injection of divine power to bolster a knight's waning strength.

But it was not enough, and at the end Faith knelt by the two dead men with hands in her lap and eyes closed. "I'm sorry," she whispered to unhearing ears. "I didn't do enough." She could close all manner of wounds, and she could bring the sick back from the brink of plague... but she could not reverse death. She closed the young man's eyes as Brok retrieved the sword, and said a short prayer over the both of them.

She walked beside Brok after her tiny ceremony. "Thank you, for trying," she looked up at him and her eyes were wet, but no tears had fallen to her face. Some villagers had not been slain but simply writhed on the ground, too broken to continue on. "Maybe we will be able to help some of them."

Faith felt a horrible, nauseating chill when they crossed the threshold, and she stumbled for a few steps, grabbing hold of Brok's belt to steady herself. The air felt wrong, poisoned, and the holy energy within her retreated deeper into her core. She saw the priest up ahead, and a hot anger flared up. "No one else is going to die today, Brok," she said with a scowl.

 

[Brock]

"What an interesting promise to make."

The deep voice echoed around around the cold stone walls. There had been wooden pews through the hall, but most of them had been torn up. The broken planks of wood revealed the true pale colour of the wood beneath the dark stain.

The priest didn't even look back from his altar. The cowl covered his head completely.

"You're responsible for this?" called out Gelder, taking a step forwards. Brok noticed that his crossbow was loaded again.

"The work is nearly done. It does not matter who..."

The priest was cut off by the thunk of the crossbow. His entire body shook once as the bolt struck him in the center of the back.

"...who finishes the work."

The priest stood as if nothing had happened. Brok heard a hissing sound, tilting his head to follow it. Dust was falling down the columns around the room, then larger pieces of masonry.

He looked up, worried that the ceiling would collapse. He need not have worried about that. The roof was quite in tact and still.

It was the gargoyles that had started to move, detaching themselves from the walls.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

The priest's voice was terrible. Wrong. Poisoned. This whole place had been corrupted, but Faith pushed through in her anger. Two men had died. Good men. Young men. Men who were just trying to help... and she hadn't been able to do a thing for them.

Blame was easy to assign to the priest, and this spared her the pain of full responsibility.

She looked, wide-eyed, as the priest took a crossbow bolt in stride. Had Gelder missed? Had the bolt passed by the heart and lungs and any other organs? No... that was impossible, she could see it bleeding from him back. "What-" she began, but the hissing and grinding of stone cut her off.

The gargoyles moved like demons in the rafters. They had been brought to life, she was sure, by dark magic. "We have to stop the priest!" she yelled to Brok. "He's controlling it!" She didn't actually know that, but this had all the hallmarks of some corrupt spell and the priest was the only flesh and blood enemy remaining.

She pressed her palms together and called on the divine energy within her. She couldn't fight well, but at least she could bolster Brok's strength and spirit. She called and... it did not answer. A moment of panic, what was wrong?? She called again, harder, and this time the energy did flow as she beckoned, but timidly. It was like coaxing out a small child. The holy magic was afraid of this place, and Faith realized with a sickening lurch that she could not feel the Holy Creator's touch. Whatever evils had corrupted this place were hiding her from Their view.

Light shines brightest in the dark, she mentally repeated the mantra, focusing her efforts and pooling the warm golden light in her palms. After a few more moments, she pressed both of them forcefully on Brok's chest to deliver a shock of nourishing light. His energy would be multiplied, his strength and focus enhanced.

"Come on!" she called, started to run forwards as gargoyles fell heavily from the ceiling.

 

[Brock]

Brok felt the light course through him. It spread from her touch to every corner of his body. He froze on the spot, frightened of the magic. He didn't understand it. If he hadn't trusted Faith then he would have run.

He was drawn out of it by the ear piecing sound of steel striking granite. One of the mercenaries hacked at a gargoyle half his height, barely chipping the stone. The gargoyle leapt at his legs and dragged him down. Another rushed to his head and cracked his skull with a single blow.

Ignoring his sword, Brok grabbed the nearest animated creature. It weight twice a man and with his newfound energy he tossed it at the nearest column. It cracked into two half's and went still once more.

He followed her towards the priest. The man simply stood and watched. A sickening crack rang out. It was followed by a rattle of smaller pops.

The priest was suddenly rising up above them. His body contorting and twisting. Brok skidded to a halt.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

The church echoed with the sounds of steel on stone, men's cries, and Faith's own blood pumping in her ears. There was little she could do to help her companions when a single strike killed them outright. Her focus remained on the man at the front of the church, and she maneuvered through the beings of stone towards him. The gargoyles were very strong, but they were slow.

She skidded to a halt as the priest transformed. Her eyes bulged in horror at what she was seeing, and only the adrenaline rushing through her kept her upright. This had to be a nightmare, nothing like this could happen in reality... could it??

She was so taken aback that she hardly noticed the gargoyle land beside her, and so late in bringing up a shield that the stone fist shattered right through the flickering golden light and knocked her into darkness.


Melody awoke to her ears ringing, and a terrible pain in her head. She was on a hard, cold floor, and she blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from her vision. At once a stone monster was moving on her and aiming a fist right down on her. She snapped to attention and rolled aside as the floor splintered, rising her her feet and squinting against the hot blood running down the side of her face. She lunged forward, grabbed the gargoyles head, and pulverized it with a short burst of light.

It crumpled heavily, just in time for Melody to see the twisted monster before her and exclaim, "The fuck is that?!?"

 

[Brock]

"Good..." started Brok. He did not get to finish. The priest towered above him, but swung down in a flash. A backhand from one arm sent Brok flying.

"...question," he finished as Brok groaned and stood up. Being half an orc it took more than that to slow Brok down.

The priest was not a man, or at least it was no longer a man. It was more like a fiend that had been wearing the disguise of a man. All the human parts still looked human, stretched out over the frame of the monstrosity.

His orc genetics made him hard to break, Faith's light made him even stronger, but it did nothing to contain the fear the monstrous sight evoked. Brok Was held still for a few steadying breaths. The priest did not bear down on him, instead it darted towards a side door and vanished from sight deeper into the church.

Brok picked up one of the heavy pedestals as another gargoyle came for him. Stone met stone and both shattered in a glorious explosion of chips and dust.

"When did you start swearing?" Brok asked suddenly, catching up. He looked around, taking stock. They were down to half their numbers now.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

Melody ducked as Brok's body careened overhead. She took a quick tally of the situation, being quite used to waking up deep in the thick of things. The events prior, the day through Faith's eyes, it was like a barely remembered dream to her. Enough had bled through to tell her that battle was happening, that gargoyles were enemies, and that the armored people were allies. Brok evoked a sense of familiarity, like a echo from Faith's slumbering mind.

She did not need any assistance to know the fiendish priest was a foe.

She regrouped with Brok quickly. "I started around the time that thing showed up." She threw out a hand and it glowed yellow-hot, but the brilliant beam of holy light she'd been expecting devolved into a flickering thread no more than three feet from her body. It didn't get near the priest before he scuttled away.

She looked at her hand. "What... why didn't it work?" she mumbled to herself. The power hadn't been what it should have been, and she noticed that she couldn't connect the Faith's power reserves like she normally could. It was like the divine energy was somehow being hidden from her, cloaked in the darkness of this place.

She looked back at their companions, sized them up, and drew a few conclusions. This was another one of Faith's adventurer parties, wasn't it? And if that was the case...

"We have to follow it... don't we?" she asked Brok gloomily.

 

[Brock]

"Perfectly good time to start," Brok replied.

There was a clear path to the door. The fighting continued behind them, but the group had started to fight around the gargoyles. They attacked with blunt weapons and kept out of reach as much as they could.

It was too late for most of the group. Just a handful now.

Brok drew the sword. The fine steel was better for whatever the priest had become. It was for two hands, but he could easily carry it in one as he pushed the door open.

Ahead was a long stone corridor. Doors that opened off into antechambers. There was barely any light here and he hadn't quite inhereted the full night vision of his orc heritage.

"I can hear a voice somewhere," he hissed. He was not as quiet as he thought.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

She followed the man... orc-man? Man orc. Brok. She followed Brok down the corridor. The scent of blood and death did not leave them as they moved on from their comrades but grew steadily stronger. She made a noise of disgust and pulled her cloak over her mouth and nose, trying to block it out.

The sound of their boots was their only company, but it too changed as they moved. Their footfalls on stone grew softer and Melody's footing grew less certain. The ground was becoming slipperier... wetter.

"Let me try," she held out her free hand and a soft sputtering of yellow light came to life. It illuminated horrors.

It was blood that they had been walking through, and it was everywhere. It covered the floor in a sticky river, and splattered the walls in impossible amounts. Mounted to the walls, suspended by iron spikes and chains, were bodies. Well... parts of bodies. Mangled and torn, put back together in grotesque shapes and haphazardly erected.

And as quickly as the light arrived, it strobed away to nothing. Melody cursed under her breath at how difficult it was to call upon her magic here, but she was silenced by Brok's warning.

She stood frozen, and listened. There was a voice. It sounded mumbled and manic, and it was coming from ahead of them. What hell had they walked into?

 

[Brock]

"Please...I am so close..."

Brok tilted his head at the sound of the voice. He could make out the words now. He would have given up his orcish sense of smell if he could. The rotting gore was overpowering.

"If that is your wish but we nearly had...yes..."

When the voice was cut off Brok realised they were listening to one half of a conversation. He peered around the next corner.

"...then I hope they can finish the work."

The creature had curved its long spine to bring its head down over a pedestal. On the pedestal was a hemisphere of some kinf od crystal. Rather than a smooth half sphere it was all angular shards of turquoise rock that seemed to give off its own light. From the ripples of light across the priest's face it looked as if it was filled with water.

"Well master orc, have at it," came a harsh whisper from behind. Apparently Roland had survived.

Brok strode forwards, having to will his legs to move. The priest stood upright, turning to face him.

Brok rushed on. The air hissed in protest as he swung the greats word upwards. He caught nothing but air, the monster too quick for him.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

Melody wanted to say something, something like "wait" or "just a minute" or "let's come up with a plan before attacking the grotesque horror." It was unusual for her to hesitate, and it spoke to just how horrible this monster was.

She did not have time to voice her thoughts before Brok began the assault. As before, the priest-creature moved unnaturally, almost like its body were being pulled by invisible strings rather than propelled by flesh and bone.

"Fine," she hissed, and she planted her feet, drawing out her strength and ready to charge forwards.

...but nothing came. Nothing. Not one ounce of holy energy obeyed her summons. She didn't know what was happening, it had always been so easy before but now... it was as if the light were cowering within the deepest part of her, shrouded from her by the wrongness of this place.

She felt fear. Real fear, the likes of which she hadn't felt since... since she could remember. She hated it, and she pushed it aside angrily. "Time to prove you don't need her," she muttered to herself. "You don't need her looking after you."

She ran forwards. She could not hope to fight the centipede, but that bowl sure looked important and very fragile. A good shove ought to see it shattered on the ground. If nothing else, it would make Melody feel better.

 

[Brock]

The twang of Roland's crossbow rang out. He had used Brok has a distraction. The bolt stuck fast in the priest's body and this time he did cry out in pain. He tossed Brok aside, the heavy mass of orc sliding through the gore to come to a stop against a pillar.

The priest took one step towards Roland, but turned sharply as Melody pushed the pedestal. The creature angled down, low to the floor and shot out across it. Clawed hands reached out and caught the crystal before it hit the ground. The water inside splashed out, hissing as it touched his flesh and burned it.

"You fool!" it hissed. "There are just twenty left in the whole world!"

 

[Rämna Sisters]

"Yeah?!" Melody called back to the creature, riding the high of her own terror. If she stopped to think about what she was doing she would surely collapse into despair. "Should have thought of that before you starting trying to kill us!"

She barely dodged a swiping strike. She was nimble even without Faith's magic, but her legs did feel heavier as she skittered across the slick floor. She tried reaching for the bowl again, a mistake that found the priest's serpentine body slamming into her and colliding into Brok on the ground with a grunt and a sickening crunch in her shoulder.

She doubled over onto her knees, holding her shoulder and gritting her teeth through pain. The bowl was still in the priest's skeletal hand, Roland was still standing, Brok was...

"Hey, you alive, big guy?"

 

[Brock]

"Big guy?" he wheezed. She was very different now the fighting had started. He supposed decorum went out the door when everyone's lives were on the line.

By way of answer he drew himself to his feet. The sword hissed as it was drawn across the concrete as he picked it up.

Having placed the bowl safely in a corner the priest had turned to find Roland standing before him. The hunter fired another bolt and gave a jubilant whoop when it struck the creature's head.

With the bolt jutting out of its cheek, the creature that had been the priest launched forwards. Roland turned to flee, drawing a fine short sword from his belt.

He wasn't quick enough. His cry rang out as the monster slammed him into the floor. One swipe of its claw ripped through his back and severed his spine.

"Well...fuck it..." went Brok. He charged forward and swung the sword with everything he had. It was a good blade and rather neatly lopped off an arm.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

Credit where credit was due: Brok wasn't one to back down from a fight. Melody got back to her feet, feeling the cold and sticky blood from the floor soaking into her pantlegs. Her shoulder pained her, but she rolled it forwards a few times before being content that it wasn't broken.

Faith wouldn't be happy that nearly everyone was dead, it had probably been her job to prevent that, but at this point Melody was hoping the pair of them would survive long enough to feel that guilt.

She couldn't get to the bowl anymore and she wasn't foolish enough to try. Instead, using Brok's attack as an opening, she picked up Rolands crossbow and a handful of bolts.

She loaded it clumsily and hoisted the heavy weapon up to take aim. She missed her first shot and struck a hanging corpse on the wall. She swore, and cranked back a second bolt.

Roland's attack to the head hadn't done anything, and it didn't seem to be slowed down by missing an arm either. Was there anything about this monster that could be killed? In the dim light she could make out the gore that formed its body, and she fired at some pulsating mass at the priest's center.

 

[Brock]

Brok was quicker to back away this time. He didn't know how to use the sword particularly well, but he had the sense to lift the blade. It put the sword between them so that the monster couldn't leap forward without skewering itself.

It brought its claws down again. Brok turned the blade to block. The blade bit into the creature's hand, drawing a line of blood.

It didn't care. It started to close its hand around the blade to yank it away.

A second hiss came from behind and this time the bolt struck home. This time the priest cried out in pain. The bolt was stuck fast in the gore around its elongated spinal column.

Brok yanked the sword back and free. He didn't retreat this time. His gaze fell to that narrow spinal column. It hadn't liked that and suddenly looked panicked.

Brok's muscles tensed as he draw the blade back. He had the build of an orc that had been well fed without having to chase his meals for miles on end on foot. Which was roughly that of a castle keep.

The air hissed in blade as he swung horizontally. The priest made barely a sound as he was cut in half. The light went out form his eyes in an instant.

Brok staggered back, turned to the wall and promptly vomited down it.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

The priest's massive body crashed to the ground in a sickening splash, and Melody stood tense as she waiting for it to rise up once more... but it did not. The coiling abomination was still.

"Is it dead?" she asked her towering companion. She lowered the heavy crossbow, but did not drop it, not yet. Carefully, she prodded a stray bit of gore with her foot. "I... I think it is," she felt as though saying it out loud might undo their victory.

Brok vomited, and she quite frankly agreed. She was half-covered in the congealed blood of who-knew-what, and he footsteps were unsteady in the slick fluids as she moved to the half-orc. "Thanks," she said, patting him on the back and leaving a bloodied handprint on him. "Pretty sure you just saved our lives."

Her attention was drawn back to the glittering bowl in the corner. What was so important about it? It didn't look sinister, it was actually quite beautiful. What would happen if she touched it, she wondered.

 

[Brock]

There was still just a sliver of water in the bottom of the bowl. The reflective surface would show her face. Luminescence spread through the crystal from where her fingers touched it. Magic rippled through the crystal shards.

Another face appeared alongside her own in the silver water. It had many more than two eyes. It stared directly into her soul.

You are marked

Brok was breathing hard and fast. He was fairly certain that his body had finished wretching up. He turned and poked the monster with the tip of his sword. It remained still.

---

"Another group failed."

They were shadows on the rooftops. A circle of silhouettes on the houses around the church. The eyes and ears of the church itself. Silence reigned once more.

"The thrall are dead. Perhaps whatever evil there is had been weakened?"

"We will need another group of volunteers to find out."

 

[Rämna Sisters]

Melody's body did everything it could to rear back in horror from the face that she saw. Her muscles tensed, her limbs shuddered and pushed away... but she did not move. She remained, frozen in place, feeling the eyes enter her.

At once she released, stumbling back to fall once more onto the grotesque stone. Perhaps as a defense, or maybe just because the sun was still out, Melody faded away.

Faith awoke on the floor. Slowly at first, and then with quickening breaths as she saw, smelled, and felt the scene around her. A pained whimper of confusion escaped her and her eyes finally rested on Brok.

"Wh.. what happened? Brok, where are we?" No time for keeping up appearances, she was too panicked. "Where are the others?"

She stood, stepped as far away from the twisting corpse of the priest as she could. She remembered his transformation but nothing after. Obviously Melody had taken over, and obviously they had survived.

Something in her head felt wrong.