3. The Desecration

The Desecration

  • V

    So common was the sight of the priest about the town that most paid almost no heed to his passing presence. He had entered from the west, his step weary from hours of patrolling. His armour, covered in the dust from the summer heat, showed signs of recent battle. He passed through the town, walking by the Regal Whore Inn. A place he had only stepped into the once, and that to investigate a murder. Passing the well, he recalled the travels down through the caves beneath the town to the Orc Fortress. His mind wandering he stumbled as he climbed up the hill towards Sam’s house. The Paladin had been gone and missing now for several years. He had made sure the garden and exterior of the house had been tended too but the house still exuded a sense of loss. Lifting his mind back to the present he crossed the stream, past the Council chambers arriving at the huge temple doors. As usual they were closed, but unlocked.
    Entrance to the temple was barred to none but the most evil of heart and for that there were the wards. Ah yes, the wards. He was still awaiting the delegation from the Hold to arrive and place the final consecration to the wards to instil their full power. Ever since the coin had arrived from the hold over 10 years ago, with the instructions to construct a larger temple, he had been diligent in his duty. He had overseen every last detail in the construction, down to the linen upon the temple bunks. Now it was all done. All except the final empowerment of the wards, and for that he was having to wait. Until that was done the temples protection would not be at their fullest. He prayed that they would arrive soon.
    Opening the huge doors he stepped inside. The huge ceremonial chamber still took his breath. This was more like a temple to Helm should be like. With this place he knew he could spread Helms influence more effectively. Already more townsfolk had been coming to temple services. He looked around for an acolyte. Something was wrong. No one was about. He unbuckled his sword, keeping his hand on the hilt as he moved forward down the aisle.
    Eyes watched from the shadows. They watched him enter through the doors. At last the waiting was almost at a close. For three hours now they had kept hidden, waiting and watching for the priest to return. IT had almost all fallen apart when one of their lot had stuck down an acolyte by the doors, leaving a pool of blood upon the stones. A pool that the priest would have seen as soon as he had entered. But their luck was with them. One of their lot had the arcane knowledge to hide the pool from sight. They hoped now he would not see through such an illusion.
    Down the aisle he moved, slowly, looking everywhere. He knew something was wrong, but damned if he could see anything wrong. Then it hit him. The smell. There was no mistaking that smell. His whole life had been filled with it. Blood. His sword slid from its sheath and with a twist of his torso his shield swung around from his back, his arm sliding into its bindings. With surprise now gone the figures moved from the shadows, easing their way between the benches towards the priest. He heard them moving but still could not see them.
    “hmm invisible too” he thought.
    “Come on then lads” He crouched into a defensive position and waited, listening for their foot steps.
    The closest foes moved in and attacked, their blades thrusting and swinging at the priest. He stood there calmly, his shield before him as the attacks came in. Suddenly his weariness was gone, the strength of youth returned to his tired muscles. Muttering a silent prayer to Helm he stepped in to meet the first attack, blocking with his shield and with a sharp thrust, dispatching his attacker. Before he had even slumped to the ground the priest had turned and was already blocking the next attacker. For several minutes the fight continued, the priest finally slashing the thigh of the last assailant. The invisible bodies lay around him. A few brief words and the blessing was cast. He watched as the boundary of the purging moved out and the bodies became visible. The second wave of foes stopped dead. Now visible they hesitated before moving forward once more.
    He looked around once more. They were all around, and they were good. How many of them were there? Thirty? Forty? Too many for him. He had survived this long by knowing what battles to fight and this was not a good one. His blessings almost all gone from being on patrol he knew this could be it. As they moved towards him he sent up his sanctuary and knelt down in prayer. The enemies tried to push past the invisible barrier, but all were repulsed and so they stood back and waited, watching the priest in prayer.
    He stood once more and looked around him, smiling. As the sanctuary finally dropped and the enemies moved in his mind spoke to Helm once more.
    “Die hard, son, Die Hard.”

    The acolyte came running down from the temple, dried blood encrusted his face. Running for the guards the townsfolk look on in horror. A brief conversation with the guards and the towns gong in rung. Guards run towards the temple and the legion hall.

    News travels of an attack at the Temple of Helm in Jiyyd.
    The guards enter the temple. Before them in the main ceremonial chamber lies a circle of over twenty corpses. All in dark clothing, they show no identifying marks. Within the centre of the corpses lie the shield and sword of the priest. The guards move deeper into the temple finding dead acolytes in the library and sleeping quarters.
    The Priests body was no where to be found and the Everwatchful sword was also missing from its bracket near the altar.
    Upon the altar they find that someone has marked the symbol of Bane in blood.
    The stench of death pervades the whole Temple.

    Shocked by the sight, the guards withdraw and lock the door. Unsure what action to take they send word to the Order of the Divine shield as well as to High Preistess’ Daisy and Rith.


  • Rando on hearing the foul news send a faster runner to the Temple offering Norwicks aid in this matter


  • _Shannon D'Arneau comes to the Temple asking the Acolytes for Sir Amana's sword. He wishes to perform a scrying and hopefully discern Sir Amana's fate and perhaps, current whereabouts.

    He seems to lack patience in the matter._


  • _Within a day, Eluriel hurries to the temple. Inside, she grimly sets about stripping several of the least damaged sets of clothing from decaying corpses then takes the outfits to Amana's private room save for the one she stows in her pack.

    The competent young ranger leaves the temple, determined to track down her friend Amana, hero of the defiler war._


  • Mariston Thel is seen running to Jiyyd, nary a stop nor lessening of his pace in the long journey. Making his way through the streets of Jiyyd he enters the temple. Some time later he leaves, his eyes hard and his jaw clenched. With a determined step he makes his way to speak with the Order

    "There shall be a reckoning"