Towers of Death

The three remained at Sharresh for a week, helping the new commander settle in. While he was getting a grip on the military side of the fortress, Hildraft turned his attention to the dreadful temple inside. A sink-hole of darkness, it would poison the morale of any troops stationed here, as well as attracting more of the dark priest's ilk; it had to be dealt with.

Accordingly, the next day, Hildraft, decked out in the full regalia of a Battle Priest of Kord, and assisted by a young human priest called Hauge fetched from the temple in Reital by Sack's good offices, performed two full rituals of Hallowing; one to suppress and drive out the evil misasma of the dark temple, and the second to consecrate the place to Kord. Hildraft was a little nervous - after the unexpected results at the temple in Karennal, he was unsure what might happen - but in the event, all went well, and he was able to hand over a functional temple of Kord to Hauge before leaving. That worthy was clearly rubbing his hands in anticipation; with the new-forged temple at his back, he would be snowed in with the garrison for three or four months, and boredom was bound to drive men to his services. He'd have a fair-sized congregation for his God by the spring.

Of course, they would be following the faith of Kord Battlemaster, not Kord of the Axe; but that was only reasonable for humans, Hildraft supposed.

Notwithstanding his differences of opinion with the Kordasa, Surya made the suggestion that Cyrn Sharresh might be a good place to locate a satellite Order of Kordic Knights; the Deslation was a fearsome training ground for paladins, and they would provide a good southern defence for the evolving New Tellaran nation.

A week later, the four riders set out again. This time, Surya made sure the others were caring for their horses properly in the harsh weather; some had been suffering by the time they reached Cyrn Sharresh.

The maps they'd found in Sharresh, plus what Erom had given them, showed the next fortress - Cyrn Radelin, five days away - to be a distinctive place, with a triangular curtain wall linking three tall towers, and a soaring central spire visible from miles away. Even in these conditions, it should be easy to find.

Gathered on a slight rise, under the thin winter sun, the travellers looked around themselves in bafflement. According to both the maps and their own judgement, they should be at the head of the valley where Cyrn Radelin was located, and it should be right in front of them, around a mile away; and there was nothing but snow-covered ground.

Riding forwards, they began to search for signs to explain the mystery. As they approached the site, they began to discern regularities in the snow-covered mounds, and see fragments of masonry peeking out from below, and they realized grimly that they were in the right place after all.

Cyrn Radelin had been very thoroughly razed.

Spreading out, the adventurers searched the ruins. They found rubble, scorch marks, and bodies; the latter decayed and worried by predators. All the bodies they found were those of Dragonarmy garrison soldiers; none left by the attackers. The dead bore marks of sword and arrow wounds.

Hildraft found a body belonging to an infantry Lieutenant, and cast a Speak with Dead on it. As he did so, Surya noted the radical difference between the way this worked and the effects of his similar power wielded from the Sword of the Dead Legions. He dragged the very soul back from its' rest in tearing agony; Hildraft merely tapped the imprint of the traces of memory on the dead flesh, a gentler method.

The wrecked skull shimmered, and a pseudoface appeared over it, ready for Hildraft's questions. The dead man's memories yielded a description of cloaked, camouflaged figures, humanoid but extremely deft, seeming to blink from place to place by magic, a storm of terrible accurate arrow-fire followed by an onslaught with swords (ordinary long swords, not the peculiar Gith weapons, which ruined one of Surya's early theories).

Search as they might - and with Sack the Ranger in the party, no stone was unturned - they could find no evidence to point to the culprits. Some tracks, almost completely removed, led away southwards, but disappeared under the influence of a Pass without Trace and were lost.

Returning from following them, Sack happened to glance up - and froze. Stuck in a tree-trunk, twenty feet up and a hundred and fifty yards out from the ruins, almost merging with the branches, was a single arrow.

Climbing effortlessly up, Sack retrieved it, and brought it back down. Examining it, the companions looked at each other in shock; it was quite clearly of Elven manufacture. Memories of elves skilled in stealth and subterfuge surfaced, and a name with them; the Shadowguard. It appeared that Belamir had decided that the border fortresses were a threat, and had used different means than their classic bright array of knights in shining armour bearing blue and silver banners to neutralize them.

They collected as many bodies as they could, and Hildraft used a Stone Shape to inter them with fitting respect, while Surya used Arcane Mark to blazon the arms of New Tellare on the ruins.

The final border tower, Cyrn Lothlin, was built on a headland overlooking the Sea, a heavy, solid, four-square castle. The companions were relieved to see it was still there; however, misgivings returned after a better look, for the drawbridge was up and there were no lights, smoke, or guards to be seen.

They watched the castle for two days, cautious now after the apocalyptic fate of Cyrn Radelin, but nothing happened. As the drawbridge was unavailable, they utilized Hildraft's Air Walk, and climbed to the battlements, casting Invisibility to Undead as they did so.

The ramparts and courtyard were coated in an undisturbed layer of snow, and deserted; the doors leading off were closed, but not - as they discovered - locked. Detection abilities of various types showed no evil, but undead; an odd mixture...

Once inside the castle, more became apparent. Bodies were strewn in the halls and corridors; many more were stretched in their bunks, stiff and cold. None bore signs of violence; all had died of some form of plague. With this revalation came a supernatural chill, and the four realized they were surrounded by immaterial forms.

Swirling and roiling, the ghosts could not see the adventurers, but could clearly sense the presence of life within the fortress. With leisure to examine them, the four could see they were plainly the ghosts of the garrison, their spirit faces racked with dreadful suffering and longing. Something in the way they moved triggered a memory, and Hildraft remembered the Dance of the Damned, the terrible curse that had trapped the souls of the elven dead in the Desolation.

It seemed that the mass deaths, too close to the Desolation, had triggered the same effect here, trapping the spirits of the luckless garrison between life and their final rest. Desperate to escape, the imprisoned spectres roamed the castle, yearning to drain enough life-force from living beings to allow them to escape.

Clearly, something had to be done to free them - but what? Turning them, trapped as they were, would simply increase their misery; Banishment would not work - they were native to this plane; slaying them or assaulting them with the Sunburst would destroy rather than free them, and inimical though they'd become, they didn't deserve that. Finally, the they hit on idea of burying the corpses in consecrated ground, out of reach of the effect. Hildraft summoned an Elemental to assist, and they transported the bodies out along the peninsula to a distant, wind-whipped headland, and laid them to rest with the rites of Kord.

It must have worked.. for when they returned, Cyrn Lothlin was empty.