"When Baron Dammeral founded New Koratia four hundred years ago, I wonder if he knew about the ancient city that once stood here?" wondered Nebin.

Hennet, Ember, Brek Gorunn, and Nebin trudged through a sewer tunnel. They had prepared and rested for most of the previous night, then started before dawn. Even though Hennet and Nebin had a free day before the first round of the Duel Arcane, Ember wondered if the two shouldn't be practicing their magic. She felt guilty for asking them along. She suspected that Hennet had something of a crush on her, and she hoped she wasn't trading on that affection. On the other hand, Ember presumed that Nebin tagged along on the jaunt into the sewers because of his relentless overconfidence.

"What ancient city, Nebin?" asked Ember.

The wizard enjoyed showing off his knowledge and she didn't mind indulging him.

"The city of New Koratia was established when the original city of Koratia burned in The Conflagration of Tael."The ruins of Old Koratia still sat, fifteen miles to the south, where the River Delnir emptied into the Southern Sea. "Actually, even back then the ancient city was a ruin, its name lost," continued Nebin, a pedantic edge creeping into his voice. "It was only discovered because of a few surface collapses when Dammeral began building, revealing an old tunnel system. Dammeral thought the tunnels would provide a perfect foundation for a 'modern' sewer."

Ember remembered hearing something like that when she'd earlier lived in New Koratia. She also knew that the tunnels were rumored to be part of an ancient temple complex dedicated to an infernal god. The monk decided to keep that tidbit to herself if the gnome didn't already know it. Nebin had proved a bit flighty, and she didn't want to cultivate his fear. Anyway, she didn't think they had much to worry about. Overall, the tunnels made good sewer conduits.

The stench was palpable. Nebin was most affected by the odor. He claimed it was because, being the shortest, his head was closest to the liquid that swirled down the center of the brick tunnel. Soon enough, however, they left the sewers and their stink behind, as they entered the older, pre-Koratian tunnels. Brek Gorunn carried a lantern, though he carried it only out of courtesy—as a dwarf, he could find his way in the dark without aid from artificial light.

Ember provided directions, drawing on the memories of her previous trek. The tunnel turned a few times then sloped down ward. At times they felt cooler air on their faces, issuing from dark, side passages. Though they saw many branching corridors—some with stairs, some narrow, and others broad—Ember kept to the passage originally selected, which continued to lead steadily but gradually down.

The corridor finally emptied into a broad hall. Besides the passage they arrived on, two other tunnels departed the hall.

Directly opposite them was a high, wide arch scribed with many runes. Heavy stone doors, likewise scribbled with signs—or perhaps graffiti—barred passage, but one of the doors was slightly ajar.

This is the place Kairoth and I found during our expedition," said Ember. She was relieved to have found it so easily. "We translated runes on the arch and door as best we could. They speak of reverance for the unseen, sacrifice, and power. We dubbed it a temple,  though I suppose it could be something else. We never got past the doors."

"They're open now," observed Brek Gorunn. "Where is Kairoth? Perhaps he got tired of waiting."

The dwarf moved forward to examine the stonework of the arch, nodding in appreciation.

Where was he, indeed? Ember wondered.

She didn't let her uncertainty color her features or voice when she said, "Perhaps he only checks this place periodically. He may have left a message."

She began searching the floor of the hall near the arch. Nebin and Hennet joined her. The light of the lantern held by the dwarf cast their shadows long across the floor of the chamber and up Into the narrow tunnels.

"Here," said Hennet. Ember saw that the sorcerer squatted near one corner. "A ring of stones. Looks like a fire ring, and used recently."

Hennet reached into the pit and disturbed a layer of ash.

Ember and Brek Gorunn joined the sorcerer. The dwarf pointed.

"See the scratches here, as if something was dragged? Dragged through this archway, unless I miss my mark. Whoever camped here either decided to go exploring, or something inside the 'temple' came out and got him."

"Him..." mused Ember, her heart beating faster. "You think it was Kairoth?"

"Who else?" said Brek. "Based on his message, he should be here. Here, we find signs of a camp and an ambush."

Ember couldn't find fault with the dwarf's logic.

She nodded and said, "Then, through the arch we go. Be wary."

Ember strolled over to the arch, but the sight of one of the runes on the door distracted her. It strongly resembled the strange symbol she'd seen on Elder Vobod's ring—a circle with many arrows pointing inward. She hoped it was merely coinci dence. She could do nothing about it except push on.

Ember worked her fingers into the crack between the cold, wet door and frame and pulled. She had to place her foot against the wall and strain before being rewarded with the sounds of creaking hinges and stone grating against stone, but at last the portal moved and swung wide.

She looked to her companions and asked, "Everyone ready?"

Hennet unslung his crossbow. He cranked back the mechanism and loaded it with a bolt.

"I thought you preferred magic?" she asked him.

"In a tight spot, I prefer options."

Ember laughed, hoping to break the tension that had descended at the sight of the chamber beyond the portal.

Brek's lantern revealed that, unlike the crude stonework of the tunnels they stood in, the newly revealed chamber was tiled in a greenish-brown stone. A pile of ash, broken bones, stony debris, and unidentifiable filth lay heaped in the room's center. The smell of rot, as of food too long in the sun, made Ember's nose wrinkle. A single passage led farther into the complex. Nothing moved, save dust particles in the beam of light.

"Hold back a moment, let me go first," said Ember.

The rest of the group didn't argue. She knew she had a knack for taking charge, but after all, they were there because of her. She walked slowly forward, looking around as she went, moving toward the ash heap. She didn't like its shape, but something glinted on top.

Ember was about halfway between the arch and the heap when the tile below her gave way. One side of the tile flipped down as if on a hinge. She dropped down into the pit without a sound and was gone.

 

 

"Ember!" yelled Hennet, sprinting into the room.

He wasn't the only one yelling or entering the room. Two figures issued from the shadowed hallway opposite the ash heap, shuffling and shambling forward. Hennet stopped short of the pit Ember had fallen into, his eyes wide, and his hands clenched in determination. The mere sight of the creatures threatened to send him spiraling into mind-numbing despair, but he fought it hack.

The creatures were withered and desiccated, their features hidden beneath centuries-old funerary wrappings. They moved with a steady gait, heading toward the edge of the pit Ember had fallen into. A pungent order wafted forward, like that of a spice cabinet left too long without cleaning.

Hennet spared a glance at his companions. True to form, the gnome looked terrified beyond any capacity for casting spells. Brek appeared less affected, but still taken aback.

The dwarf whispered, "Mummified corpses! 'Ware their touch; it's deadly."

Hennet nodded. He stowed his crossbow and prepared to cast a spell. He hoped that, as a cleric, Brek had power over unlife like other priests he'd known.

Brek Gorunn took a step forward, held forth his hammer, and bellowed, "Moradin commands that you give way, unholy creatures! Turn your faces and be destroyed!"

His hammer blazed with golden light and one of the two advancing mummies faltered, croaked out a terrible whine, and turned back toward the way it had come. The other shook off Brek's holy command and continued forward, reaching the edge of the pit.

Not so fast, thought Hennet.

He summoned a duo of enchanted force missiles from his out stretched hand, which slammed into the creature like hurled daggers. It absorbed the magical attack with barely a shudder, despite two bloodless holes smoking in its torso. It kept advancing.

Desperate, Hennet yelled, "Your wand! Nebin, your wand!"

Hennet silently cursed as the gnome remained frozen in fear. Not so Brek, who rushed forward swinging his warhammer. But he moved too slowly for Hennet's taste. The animate corpse was leaning forward and straining with one arm to reach down into the pit. Hennet released another twin barrage of magical energy; the thing shuddered again, but still remained on its feel.

"Damn you, Nebin!" yelled the human sorcerer, "wake up and use your wand!"

The gnome groaned and grasped the slender wooden wand at his belt with shaking hands. Its touch seemed to lend Nebin confidence. He whipped out the wand and aimed its tip at the mummified corpse.

"Back to dust with you!" Nebin shrilled, and released a cascade of rainbow light fully onto the stooping creature.

The color drained away, leaving the creature unfazed. It groped around below the lip of the pit, chuffing in anticipation.

Nebin groaned, "Mindless husk!" and dropped his wand to the floor.

The mummy straightened, hauling Ember out of the pit. It held her firmly around the neck with one arm. The monk struggled and kicked, but she was already hurt from her fall. Long-dead tendons tensed as the creature squeezed, and Ember's struggles weakened. What blows and kicks she landed had little effect on the creature. Hennet realized it was going to squeeze the life from her before their eyes!

The dwarf charged around the edge of the pit and accelerated toward the thing. The mummy looked up just in time to take Brek's hammer full in the face. The creature was already shot through with smoking holes from Hennet's magical assault. It uttered a dusty sigh then collapsed, inert. Its hold on Ember relaxed; the monk dropped back into the pit.

Hennet was right behind the dwarf, but he arrived too late to grab the flailing monk before she fell for the second time. He rushed up to the edge of the pit, his heart in his mouth.

"Thank Pelor," muttered Hennet when he saw her hanging on the lip of the pit, struggling to hold on but still breathing.

"Lend me a hand, will you?" she said in a husky voice.

 

 

Minutes later, refreshed by the cleric's healing spells, including a ward against disease, Ember returned to the ash heap and plucked the shining thing from its top.

"This is Kairoth's ring. The inscription reads 'Enabled Hand.' He was in this chamber!" she proclaimed. "We must press on."

"I was hoping we'd retreat," worried Nebin.

Hennet laughed and said, "A mighty arcane warrior you are, Nebin! Let the undead tremble at your approach."

Nebin looked miffed. He said, looking at Ember, "I'm only suggesting possibilities. Of course I want to continue!"

"Thanks," said Ember. "Now let's find Kairoth, or those who stole him away. I must be sure of his fate."

Her comrades all nodded. Time to press on.

Ember and the dwarf moved up to the mouth of the passage from which the mummies had emerged. Brek's lantern revealed the same greenish-brown stone tiling the passage. Carved niches broke the plane of both walls lining the corridor. Some contained urns, others were empty.

Ember motioned everyone forward, whispering, "Don't touch the urns. Best not to disturb the dead."

She moved forward cautiously, her companions padding along behind as silently as they could. She gave each niche with an urn a wide berth. A breath of colder air tugged her hair.

A whisper behind her said, "Dim your lantern. I see light." It was Nebin.

Brek obliged the gnome. In the utter darkness of the passage, Ember saw a greenish glow ahead. The illumination trickled from around a bend in the corridor. The colder air brought with it the sound of a low, guttural chanting, barely discernable.

Ember immediately moved forward, resolute. After a few seconds of hesitation, she heard the others follow her. She was relieved—she had half expected at least the gnome to bolt, and the others to try to argue her back.

When she reached the bend, Ember peered around. The corridor opened into a domed room, from which many exits led into darkness. A head-sized ball of green fire hung high in the air at the center of the dome, glaring with emerald light. Below the ghoul-glow, a figure half bound in funerary wrappings lay draped across a chipped stone altar. A hideous, animate, mummified corpse stood next to the altar chanting in a harsh, breathless, uncouth voice, and jerking its arms around as if casting a spell. The chanting mummy wore an elaborate headdress and clutched a blood-stained scythe in one hand.

Ember recognized a mortal threat when she saw one. Without giving herself a second to consider running, she rushed the mummified chanter. It was a simple decision—she recognized the figure on the altar as her old mentor, Kairoth. She leaped onto the altar, readying a lethal kick.

The chanting cut off as if severed by a knife. The scythe came around, whistling in a vicious arc. Faster than Ember could respond, her armored forearm rose, deflecting the lethal blow. The motion surprised even her. Then she realized—Loku's Bracer had awakened and revealed its magical legacy. The mummy would have disemboweled her as she leaped onto the altar without the bracers' aid. She mouthed silent thanks to Loku, wherever his spirit resided.

With her height advantage atop the altar, Ember struck with shi kune, the "stunning fist," executing it perfectly. The mummy's head rocked back, then snapped forward instantly, unfazed. Apparently the walking dead were not easily stunned, Ember scolded herself.

Hearing the beat of many footfalls, she glanced back and saw the others finally rushing to her aid with Brek Gorunn in the lead. The dwarf, his legs pumping, ran around the left side of the altar, brandishing his hammer.

Ember punched and chopped at the creature's head, trying to dislodge the grinning rictus from its mummified torso. The dead creature stepped back from Ember's flashing fists, moving beyond her reach from atop the altar. It pointed a single finger at the approaching dwarf and coughed forth a stream of acid syllables. An ominous ray erupted from its wrapped finger, striking the dwarf in the chest. Brek exhaled as if punched in the stomach, then groaned. The dwarf sank to his knees, as if suddenly too weak to support his own weight.

The mummified chanter had Ember's full attention. She heard Hennet and Nebin incanting spells behind her. Nebin's voice finished first—his spell called forth a brilliant reddish orb that thundered into the mummy. It grunted, but did not fall.

Ember got the attention of the creature with a solid kick to its head. It rocked back, more by the force of the blow than from pain, which Ember doubted it could even feel.

Hennet's voice finally ceased with an exultant lilt. Ember looked back again to see what the sorcerer had wrought. A deadly certainty seemed to infuse him. He brought his crossbow to his shoulder in a liquid moment and fired. Magic guided his hands, and the bolt sped true, burying itself deeply into the chest of the mummy. The creature, which had begun mouthing a new, foul incantation, screeched and stepped back another pace. Its spell fizzled and was wasted.

Ember saw her chance to end the conflict. She jumped into the air, spinning with deadly force. Her right foot kicked out and connected. The force of her jump, spin, and kick slammed instantly into the mummy, and snapped its brittle body in half. The torso, ripped open at the waist, tumbled to the floor. It was followed moments later by the collapsing legs. Small trinkets and other oddments scattered, apparently shaken loose from the creature's wrappings. It lay in a heap, unmoving save for a puff of grave dust that rose from its hollow interior.

Ember remained wary, ready in case other threats should materialize. Hennet reslung his light crossbow and rushed over to Brek. The dwarf put his back to the altar. He was breathing shallowly.

"What did he hex you with?" asked Hennet.

"I'm not certain. I'm as weak as a newborn. Not something a dwarf likes to admit."

Ember turned to the half-wrapped man on the altar, feeling for a pulse, and found it. There was no mistake, it was Kairoth, and he still lived. Heartened, she gently shook him. His eyelids fluttered, then closed again. He whispered a few words before lapsing back into unconsciousness.

Ember turned to the others and said, "The elder requires tending. He is sorely wounded." She shot an inquisitive look at the dwarf, but Brek shook his head, to say Brek Gorunn needed tending, too. "Very well, we have what we came for. It's time to go. Moradin willing, Brek Gorunn will shake off the curse by the morrow."

She lifted her old mentor as if he weighed no more than a child.

Ember called to Nebin, who remained standing near the entrance, "When I finished off the mummy, I shook lose a few rings and scrolls. You may want to take a look."

The gnome's expression turned from diffidence to eager anticipation as he rushed forward.

She turned to Hennet and said, "Watch for more creatures as we retreat. At least one more lurks nearby, the one Brek Gorunn chased away."

Hennet nodded, but continued to look at Kairoth, draped in Ember's arms.

"What did he say, when you woke him?" the sorcerer asked.

"I'm not sure," responded Ember. "Something about 'the Oath'."