Episode Seven - The Guardian in White

Borkum and company arrive at the crypt. But a mysterious visitor changes the direction of the company. 

The Arcane Isles

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Transcript

Chapter 7 - The Guardian in White

The next morning, we gathered at the Mermaid's Song. The inn was quiet, save for the soft murmur of other early risers. My companions and I had spent the night here, using the time to regroup and plan. The ale had been good, and the company better, but the weight of our mission was ever-present.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the windows, I looked around at my comrades. Hawk Tuah was already up, performing some quiet druidic ritual in the corner. Her robes flowed around her as if they were part of the very air. Skyclaw, her loyal bird, perched nearby, watching us all with keen eyes.

Brindle Lightfoot was busy packing his things, humming a cheerful tune that seemed out of place considering our destination. His pointed hat bobbed with each movement, and his wand was already at his belt, ready for whatever lay ahead. Lykxnzzl, our Drow thief, was sharpening his daggers, his dark eyes focused and intense. Always the silent one, he gave a curt nod when he caught me looking.

I hefted my axe onto my shoulder, feeling its familiar weight. It was time to move. The journey to the Cursed Crypt wasn’t going to get any shorter with us sitting around and it was a solid five-day hike from the Port.

"Ready, everyone?" I grunted. There were nods all around. We stepped out into the morning light, the streets of the village still mostly deserted.

The path ahead led us out of the village and towards the dense forest. As we walked, the chatter was jovial. Each of us told stories of our adventures and experiences. I of course, had the fewest. 

The forest loomed before us, a wall of green and shadow. Hawk Tuah took the lead, her connection with nature guiding our way. Skyclaw flew above, scouting the terrain. The rest of us fell into a practiced formation, each one watching a different direction, ready for any threat.

The forest was silent, an unnatural hush that set my teeth on edge. Every snap of a twig underfoot seemed like a thunderclap in the stillness. But we pressed on, our determination driving us forward.

As night set in we remained well-hidden among the trees and underbrush. There would be no fires on the trail; we couldn’t risk drawing unwanted attention. We took turns keeping watch, each of us alert for any sign of danger. Hawk Tuah took the first watch, her eyes sharp and focused, while the rest of us settled in for an uneasy rest.

Sleeping without a fire wasn’t easy. The night air was cold, and the darkness felt oppressive. We wrapped ourselves in our cloaks and huddled close to the ground, using the thick foliage as additional cover. Every rustle and distant howl set my nerves on edge, but exhaustion eventually took over. I dozed lightly, ready to wake at the slightest hint of trouble.

When it was my turn to watch, I sat quietly, listening to the forest’s nocturnal symphony. Every rustle and distant howl set my nerves on edge, but I remained vigilant. The night was restless, filled with the sounds of distant howls and the rustling of unseen creatures.

By the fifth day, we reached the Cursed Crypt. 

The forest had grown increasingly oppressive as we neared the crypt. The trees twisted unnaturally, their branches gnarled and leafless, casting eerie shadows on the ground. The air was thick with the scent of decay, a constant reminder of the ancient evil that awaited us.

As we stepped into a small clearing, the crypt came into view. The entrance loomed before us, an ancient stone archway partially obscured by overgrown vines and moss. The stonework was cracked and weathered, covered in faintly glowing runes that seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy. The dark maw of the entrance seemed to swallow the light around it, exuding an aura of foreboding.

I tightened my grip on my axe, feeling its familiar weight reassuringly in my hand. "Here we are," I said, my voice low but steady. "The Cursed Crypt."

Hawk Tuah stepped forward, her staff glowing softly as she surveyed the area. Skyclaw circled above, a vigilant sentinel against unseen threats. "This place is heavy with dark magic," she murmured, her eyes narrowing as she examined the runes.

Brindle Lightfoot adjusted his hat and glanced around nervously. "Well, it certainly looks cursed," he quipped, though his usual cheer was tempered by the gravity of the situation. He clutched his wand tightly, ready for whatever lay ahead.

Lykxnzzl moved silently to the edge of the clearing, his dark form blending into the shadows. "No movement," he reported. "But we should still be cautious. There could be traps."

We approached the crypt's entrance, each of us on high alert. The closer we got, the more the air seemed to hum with a dark energy. A chill ran down my spine, but I pushed the feeling aside. We had come too far to turn back now. We were losing the sunlight. I did not want to attempt an entry into the crypt so late in the day.

"Let's make camp further back," I suggested, pointing to a sheltered spot just outside the clearing. "We’ll rest and prepare ourselves for whatever's inside. No fires tonight. We don’t want to draw any unwanted attention."

We set up our camp quickly and efficiently, each of us falling into our roles with practiced ease. Without a fire, the cold crept in, but we huddled together for warmth and kept our voices low. The night was restless, filled with distant howls and the rustling of unseen creatures.

"Hawk," I said, my voice low to avoid drawing unwanted attention. She looked up from her ritual, her eyes reflecting the dim light of the dawn. "What happened the last time you were here?"

Hawk Tuah paused; her expression thoughtful as she considered her words. Skyclaw shifted slightly, as if sensing the gravity of the conversation. "It was a few years ago," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was part of a different group then. We were searching for an ancient artifact said to be hidden within the crypt."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue. "What happened? Did you find it?"

She shook her head slowly, her eyes darkening with the memory. "We did find it, but it cost us dearly. The crypt is a labyrinth of traps and dark magic. We lost two of our party members to the traps before we even reached the inner chambers."

Her voice wavered slightly, and I could see the pain of those losses etched in her expression. "When we finally found the artifact, it was guarded by a powerful undead sorcerer and his skeleton warriors. We fought, but he was too strong. We barely escaped with our lives. The artifact remained in the crypt, and I vowed never to return."

I could hear the weight of her words, the lingering fear and regret. "And now you're back," I said softly. "Why?"

Hawk Tuah's eyes met mine, her resolve clear. "Because this time, I have a better chance. This time, I have you all. I trust our combined strengths will see us through. And I want to make sure no one else suffers the same fate as my last companions."

Her words hung in the air, a solemn reminder of the dangers we faced. But they also strengthened my resolve. We had a purpose, and we had each other.

"Thank you for sharing that, Hawk," I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We’ll be cautious. And we'll make sure we all come out of this alive."

She nodded, a small but determined smile on her face. "Together," she said firmly.

"Hawk Tuah, you'll take the first watch," I said, my voice low. "Wake me in a few hours, and I'll take over."

She nodded, her expression serious. Skyclaw perched on a nearby branch, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. The rest of us settled in, pulling our cloaks tight against the chill.

As I lay down, I felt the hard ground beneath me, every rock and root a reminder of the rough journey we had undertaken. Sleep would not come easily, but it was necessary. We needed to be at our best when we entered the crypt.

Hawk Tuah moved silently around the perimeter of our camp, her staff glowing faintly as she performed a quiet ritual. The protective wards she placed gave me some comfort, knowing that her magic would alert us to any danger. I watched her for a moment, her graceful movements blending with the shadows.

"Get some rest, Borkum," she said softly, noticing my gaze. "I'll keep us safe."

I nodded, closing my eyes and forcing myself to relax. The sounds of the forest seemed louder in the darkness—the rustling of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, the occasional snap of a twig. Each noise set my nerves on edge, but I trusted Hawk Tuah's vigilance.

Sleep came in fits and starts, my mind replaying the events of the past days and imagining the horrors that awaited us in the crypt. I dreamt of dark corridors and ancient traps, of skeletons and other horrors and comrades lost. Each time I woke, I found Hawk Tuah still on guard, her eyes never wavering.

Eventually, she came to wake me, her touch gentle on my shoulder. "Your turn," she whispered.

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and reaching for my axe. "Anything to report?"

"All quiet," she replied, though her eyes held a hint of concern. "But stay sharp. This place feels... alive."

I nodded, understanding her unease. As she settled into her bedroll, I took up my position, my senses on high alert. The night was colder now, and the darkness seemed even deeper. I paced the perimeter, my eyes and ears straining to catch any sign of movement.

The hours passed slowly, each minute stretching into eternity. The forest's nocturnal symphony continued, but there were no signs of immediate danger. I glanced at my companions, their forms barely visible in the darkness. Hawk Tuah's even breathing indicated she had finally found some rest, while Brindle Lightfoot mumbled softly in his sleep. Lykxnzzl was a shadow among shadows, his rest as light and vigilant as his waking state.

I took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. We were so close now, and the thought of what lay ahead was both daunting and exhilarating. Whatever the crypt held, we would face it together.

I paced the perimeter of our camp, my axe resting on my shoulder, my eyes scanning the darkness. The rest of the group slept uneasily, huddled together for warmth, their breaths misting in the cool night air. I envied their ability to find some semblance of rest, but I knew my duty was to keep them safe.

As the hours passed, a fog began to rise from the ground, creeping through the trees and enveloping everything in its path. The dense mist gave the forest an otherworldly appearance, the moonlight filtering through it and creating ghostly shapes that seemed to move in the shadows. My senses were on high alert, every rustle of leaves and distant animal cry setting my nerves on edge.

It was then that I saw it—a figure, cloaked in white, moving slowly towards the crypt. The fog swirled around it, obscuring its features but not its intent. My heart skipped a beat, and I tightened my grip on my axe. The way it moved, so silently, so purposefully, sent a chill down my spine.

I strained my eyes, trying to get a better look at the figure. It seemed to glide over the ground, unaffected by the rough terrain. My mind raced with possibilities, but one stood out above all others: this could be an undead creature, drawn to the crypt by some dark power.

I crept closer to our camp, careful not to make a sound. "Hawk Tuah," I whispered urgently, kneeling beside her and shaking her shoulder. "Wake up. There's something out there."

She stirred, her eyes snapping open. "What is it?" she asked, her voice low but alert.

I pointed towards the figure in the fog. "Look. Over there, near the crypt. I think it might be an undead."

She followed my gaze, her expression growing serious. "Stay here," she said, rising to her feet. "I'll wake the others."

As she moved to rouse Brindle and Lykxnzzl, I kept my eyes fixed on the figure. It had stopped near the entrance of the crypt, standing motionless as if waiting for something. The fog seemed to cling to it, wrapping it in a shroud of mystery and menace.

Brindle was the first to join me, his wand at the ready. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice tense.

I nodded towards the figure. "Something's out there. Could be an undead."

Lykxnzzl emerged from the shadows, his daggers gleaming in the moonlight. "Let's get closer," he suggested. "We need to know what we're dealing with."

We moved as one, each of us taking care to stay silent and hidden. The fog thickened around us, muffling our footsteps and adding to the surreal atmosphere. As we approached, the figure remained still, its gaze seemingly fixed on the entrance to the crypt.

"We need to be careful," Hawk Tuah whispered, her staff glowing faintly with protective magic. "This could be a trap."

Brindle nodded, his face pale but determined. "What do we do, Borkum?"

I took a deep breath, weighing our options.

"Time to go," I said, my voice firm as I raised my axe over my head and charged forward yelling my well-practiced war cry. “Aaaarrrrgggghhhhh”.

Without warning, the woman spun around, her robes billowing like ghostly wings. Her eyes, a piercing blue, locked onto mine, and she began to chant in a language I didn't recognize. The air crackled with divine energy, and before any of us could react, a powerful spell was unleashed.

"Hold fast!" She shouted.

A wave of magical force swept over us, cold and unyielding. I felt my muscles seize up, an unnatural paralysis spreading from my limbs to my core. I tried to fight it, to push through the invisible bonds, but my body refused to obey. My eyes widened in panic as I saw my companions similarly affected, each frozen in place.

Hawk Tuah's staff, which had been glowing faintly with protective magic, dimmed and fell from her grasp. Her eyes locked onto mine, a mix of fear and determination in them. Skyclaw screeched and flapped his wings frantically but could do nothing to break the spell.

Brindle Lightfoot's wand slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground as his small form was held rigid by the enchantment. His usual cheer was replaced by a look of alarm and frustration. Lykxnzzl, ever the silent shadow, stood immobilized, his daggers useless in his frozen hands.

The woman in white glided closer, her eyes never leaving mine. She was beautiful, but there was a coldness to her beauty, an otherworldly detachment that made my blood run cold. The fog swirled around her, adding to the surreal and terrifying scene.

"Who dares to disturb the sanctity of the crypt?" she asked, her voice a chilling whisper that seemed to echo within my mind. "You are trespassers in a place of ancient power."

I struggled against the magical bonds, but they held firm. "Gold and Glory!" I managed to grit out, my voice strained with the effort.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, considering my words. "Fools," she said slowly, "But you may yet be useful, just not in the manner you desire."

With a wave of her hand, the hold was released, and we found ourselves in control of our bodies yet again.

"My apologies," she said, her tone shifting to one of sincerity. "I had to be sure of your intentions. I am Elaria, a cleric of an ancient order tasked with guarding this crypt. I have heard whispers of a group of adventurers brave enough to attempt to take on the crypt's dangers. I have come to help you."

I lowered my axe slightly, still cautious but intrigued. "Help us?" I echoed. "Why?"

Elaria's piercing blue eyes softened. "The crypt holds many dark secrets and powerful artifacts. Alone, you would face certain death. But with my knowledge and power, I can guide you through its dangers and help you achieve your goals. My order has long protected these secrets, and I wish to see them secured rather than lost or misused."

Hawk Tuah stepped forward, her staff glowing softly once more. "And why should we trust you?" she asked, her voice calm but firm.

Elaria met her gaze steadily. "Because, like you, I seek to ensure the safety of our world. The crypt's power must not fall into the wrong hands. Together, we have a better chance of success."

As the first light of dawn began to peek over the horizon, a warm glow spread across the forest, chasing away the last vestiges of the eerie fog that had enveloped us during the night. The air was crisp and filled with the promise of a new day, a stark contrast to the dark and foreboding aura of the crypt behind us.

We gathered near the remnants of our campsite, the dark entrance of the Cursed Crypt looming in the background. The night's tension still hung in the air, but the dawning sun brought a welcome sense of calm and renewal. It was time to eat and gather our strength before venturing into the unknown.

"Let's take a moment to eat before we head in," I suggested, lowering my axe and sitting on a nearby log. The others nodded in agreement; relief visible on their faces as we settled down.

Hawk Tuah, ever resourceful, produced a small bundle of herbs and dried fruits from her pack. "Breakfast is served," she said with a small smile, passing around portions to everyone. Skyclaw landed beside her, pecking curiously at a piece of fruit.

Brindle Lightfoot rummaged through his own bag, producing some bread and cheese. "Not the finest fare, but it'll do," he said cheerfully, breaking the bread into smaller pieces and sharing it out. Despite the circumstances, his upbeat attitude was infectious, and I couldn't help but smile.

Lykxnzzl, true to his nature, silently handed out strips of dried meat, his eyes always scanning our surroundings for any potential threats. Elaria, our unexpected ally, accepted the food graciously, her piercing blue eyes softened by the morning light.

As we ate, a sense of camaraderie settled over us. The food was simple but satisfying, and the act of sharing a meal reminded us of our shared purpose and the strength we drew from each other. For a brief moment, the looming dangers of the crypt seemed distant, and we could focus on the present.

Elaria broke the silence first, her voice thoughtful. "The crypt is a place of ancient power, but it is also filled with traps and guardians. We must be vigilant and work together to overcome its challenges."

I nodded, swallowing a mouthful of bread. "We'll need all the strength and unity we can muster. This breakfast might be our last peaceful moment for a while."

Brindle chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling. "Then let's make it count. Cheers to a hearty meal and to facing whatever lies ahead with courage."

We raised our makeshift breakfast items in a mock toast, sharing a brief moment of levity. The sun continued to rise, its golden rays filtering through the trees and casting long shadows on the ground.

With our meal finished and our spirits bolstered, we began to gather our gear. Hawk Tuah checked her staff, ensuring its magical energy was ready. Skyclaw perched on her shoulder, ready to take flight at a moment's notice. Brindle tucked his wand securely into his belt, while Lykxnzzl adjusted his daggers, ensuring they were within easy reach.

Elaria stood gracefully, her white robes glowing faintly in the dawn light. "Are we ready?" she asked, her voice steady and calm.

I looked around at my companions, each one prepared and determined. "Ready as we'll ever be," I replied, my grip tightening on my axe. "Let's move out."

Together, we approached the dark entrance of the Cursed Crypt, the last traces of the morning fog swirling around our feet. The sun's warmth gave us strength, and with Elaria's guidance, we stepped into the shadows, ready to face whatever challenges awaited within.

The crypt's darkness seemed to welcome us, but we were undeterred. United by purpose and strengthened by our bonds, we ventured into the unknown, prepared to confront the ancient secrets and dangers hidden within the Cursed Crypt.