Denlo Takes the Burden unto Himself

Den slides down the rope that his captain had let into the gap in the temple wall, and quickly realizes it isn’t in the wall, but the roof. Soon enough, his foot starts dangling. From the looks of it, a good bit from the ground. Maybe a person’s height, maybe a bit more. Best to know before the blind folk come down. The massive Elfi’ika lets go of the rope, dropping smoothly to the floor. His leg hits the ground harder than he’d have liked. He misjudged the distance a bit. Closer to ten feet than six. Standing back up to his fullest height and stretching and loosening his legs a bit, he calls up to the group not yet inside. “Ten foot drop, feet at the bottom of the rope.” From that point, it’s up to them.

Stepping towards the center of the domed room, he looks around him. The light is dim, but not so dark he cannot tell what this place is. It’s the main chamber. A large set of doors on either end, one set stone, the other metal. One likely leading deeper in, the other likely leading towards whatever the proper entrance to this temple was. He thinks about the statue, and gestures towards the set of doors it would be facing. The stone doors. To Sari, he says, “That should lead to an entryway.”

Sari, walking around looking at the images on the walls and domes, shrugs. “Then check. I’m examining these walls for triggers, so we aren’t ambushed like last time.”

Den shakes his head as he heads towards the doors he’d gestured to. There wouldn’t be traps here, he muses, pushing through the toppled seats and rails. This is clearly some kind of public place. The traps will be deeper in, where the public don’t frequent. Either Sari, for all her sly sneakiness, has never robbed anyone before, or she is really shaken by that screaming creature from the risen box. Or both, he considers. The door is locked. Barred on this side with a padlock. For all of a moment, as the hulking Elfi’ika nimbly draws his picks and the padlock falls open. This is not the first time he’s broken into a place. The fact that the lock was on this side of the door does put more credence on his belief that this set of doors leads to the entrance. Opening the doors reveals a hallway, and a shattered pair of doors leading to mud. Those wooden rather than the stone doors he is opening. And on the other side of the stone doors are some ancient cracks.

Looking closer at this hall, he can see the bones of something he can’t tell exactly what, but the muck here clearly did not do as good of a job preserving the dead as that of the swamp. Large bones of a large creature. No, he notes, there are more than one skull. A few large creatures. Behind him, he notes a torch is lit. “Captain,” he says, “Bones.”

Sari meets up with him as he passes the trio of Felazo, Renalt, and Hilan. Sari sighs. “No traps or triggers. Just a pair of stories. One of someone being set free, another of someone being executed. You?”

“Was right. Leads to a broken door, some mud and big bones. Locked from the inside, so someone didn’t want the big boned creatures to make it inside.”

Sari nods, “I’m curious about the front raised area. It seems like it’s hiding something,” she notes before heading over. Renalt and Felazo are arguing about the creatures. Denlo tries the metal door. It’s gilded, not gold. But the door still weighs like its metal. It also isn’t locked. Swinging it open, a pitch black hallway opens up, and a sliver of light from the dome above spills inside, illuminating faintly the first few steps. Den lights his own torch and begins to head in. There will be consequences for his break in, he figures. Assuming the goddess is still around to notice. And he knows it would be best if those consequences happened without interference. He was paying attention to the discussion. This goddess is one of Fairness and Justice. He has a valid reasoning for breaking in, and she should respect that enough to punish without killing him. And he’s curious what he’ll earn if he’s deemed righteous.

The hallway has several wooden doors off it, none locked. A kitchen, a dining room, a bathing room, a larder. Seems like this temple was lived in. At the end of the hall there is yet another door. This one metal, almost a silver glint. But, like the gilded door before it, it seems to only be silvered, with some of the iron beneath having been revealed by age. It is not locked. Yet again. So, someone went to the trouble of locking the front door to keep the creatures out. But was unconcerned with the other doors. Someone was living here as it descended. As he passes through the silver door, a light flashes, burning his mind. It burns through his will, and his eyes start failing him. Not blinding, just lights, bright spots and dark spots run around his vision, as he moves deeper into the hallway. He can hear the others notice he’s missing. But he presses onwards.

These are the bedchambers. Several bodies lie on beds, or the remains of them. And in the center of the hall, there is an archway etched with runes. As he approaches, the pulse, grabbing him by the inside of his chest. He feels it holding him up above the ground, burning away his strength. But his blood boils and his strength runs deep. The burning does not hurt, but feels emboldening. And he states his case. “The door was buried, so I made a new one. I am not whatever you were barring from entrance all those years ago.”

The others show up, Sari first. The noble huntress immediately begins to look for a way to help. Felazo follows her, handing off the torch to Sister Hilan while he pulls out his book of spells. Den forces his head around to look at them. “No,” I say, “Wait.” Hesitantly, they do listen. Then, to the temple itself, he adds, “I am Denlo of the Kinslums. I have no name, and am seeking with deference. Let me go.” And with that, he grips the invisible arm holding him aloft and it dissipates. The massive man looks back at the others, who seem concerned. “There will be one more trap, I suspect,” he adds, gesturing to the metal door at the end of the hall, “For when we pass through that door.”

“Be you okay?” Ren asks.

“I’ll live,” Den replies. “Goddess of justice and fairness. Treat it like a temple.” Then, to Felazo, he adds, “More corpses in these rooms.”

Sari shakes her head at the massive man, before asking, “So, Captain, are you sure that was one beast?”

Realize shrugs. “No, but the positioning seemed to suggest it.”

Ren disagrees, “Mayhaps, but all creatures, even those of most vicious ferocity, do seek one another’s comforts when they begin the descent unto death’s embrace.

Denlo touches the door, this one a dull, unadorned metal. It’s locked. Lightning echoes through his soul, freezing him in place if only for a moment. He can feel the approval of whatever power is maintaining this place’s magic when he steps away rather than try to pick the lock. “Locked. Key should be around somewhere,” he says.

The other four listen to him and they head into the four rooms off of this hall. Two larger, dorm style rooms, and a smaller, private bedroom, and a library. Felazo heads into the library first, Ren lights his lantern and heads into the private bedroom. Sister Hilan follows their captain into the library. Which leaves Alessari and Denlo. Two doors, on the same side of the hallway, leading into two nearly identical dormitory halls. Looking at them, Denlo takes one door, and Sari heads into the other, lighting a torch of her own.

Denlo walks carefully through the dormitory. It wouldn’t make sense for the boss to have been here. The other doors all have locks, so they’re meant to be. If the person who was in charge had been in the temple when it sank, those doors would have been kept locked. Which means, while the private room may have some items of interest, it wouldn’t have the key. The library might, but far more likely that whoever locked the door kept the key among their things. Going through the objects, there are some more clothes of that same strange material, though nothing in here is as well preserved as the things they found in the box. But nothing like a key. Not until he comes to the furthest bed on the shared wall between the dorms. There, under the bed as though unimportant, is a key. Lifting it, it’s heavy for its size. Looks like iron, but not iron. Something denser. As Denlo heads out, holding the key, Ren and Sister Hilan also come out with keys. Ren’s looks to be golden, Hilan’s shines brightly. The keys to the other doors. Alessari follows suit, with a key that looks quite like Den’s. “So,” she says, “Which key is it?”

Den furrows his brow. Ren’s golden key is clearly to the gilded door, the monastic sister’s silvery key is to the silvered door. “One of ours,” he says simply.

Ren immediately understands. “I do see. The golden key for the gilded door, the silver key for a silvered door, yet there be two keys of iron for but one iron door.”

From the library, Felazo says, “Stone door was locked and barred.” Of course, Den realizes, the padlock on the barred door would have had to be locked from this side.

“My key isn’t iron,” Den offers, “Too heavy.”

Sari frowns, tossing the massive man the key she found. It’s lighter than the one he did. He offers the denser key to her, and she agrees. “It is. More like a lead.”

“Then ought we not examine the door with more intensity?” Ren wonders aloud, “For if it is to match with the others, the material lining this door shall too be the metal of the key.”

Sari hands back the key and we both head to the door. Without being able to tell the weight, I have no way of knowing, neither does Sari. “Maybe just try the keys?” Sari asks, but Den shakes his head.

“Touching the door caused a jolt through my body. I suspect attempting to open with the wrong key would be an affront. And might cause the goddess to go back on her judgement of me as not deserving to die,” he explains.

From the doorway behind them, holding a bunch of gathered books, is Felazo. “I need the bag,” he says to Alessari, then adds, “And the door’s a lead compound.” Alessari walks back over to hand their captain the bag as Denlo takes the heavier key and slides it into the keyhole. There is a click and a chilling down his spine as the key seems to freeze. One final test. The icy chill freezes his fingers, but he pushes through, opening the door. And, as soon as he does it without attacking, a warmth passes over all of them, almost a glow of approval.

Sister Hilan, confused, asks, “What was that?” she looks at her wounded shoulder, with some surprise, then starts flexing it as though it’s no longer as wounded.

“Evidently,” Felazo says as he stuffs books into the bag, “Whichever God of the Land and People is watching over this place approves of us.”

Denlo walks slowly into the now unlocked room, and sees it has several items in boxes, as well as some chests of gold and gems. A treasure room, then. Sitting in the center, on a pedestal, is a strange necklacelike bit of ornamentation, and a scroll. It’s written in a language older than anything anyone could learn, as old as this place, and yet, the massive Elfi’ika can understand it. An old deal. A promise of power and purpose. He approaches the pedestal and picks up the scroll.