The journey to the cemetery was uneventful, but the West side was interesting in its own way: people hastily moving along the streets, carrying crates, supplies, or dragging carts, each one had a place to be and supplies to deliver.
I had been to West Brega before, but each time I visited I was left captivated by the industriousness of dwarves.
Luckly Sasha decided to make use of her new cloak, using the hood to cover her ears, and I coudl safely assume this saved us at least a few nasty comments here and there.
In my life I've heard many stories and guesses about the animosity between the two races, but nobody can really agree on the reason:
Some say it's because of a grudge dating so far back that neither groups can remember anymore, other say it's simply a divergence in mindsets that make them collide.
Some even think it's because dwarves love beer more than anything, while elves prefer wine.
Whatever the cause is, or had been, the fact that they often hate eachother on sight doesn't change.
'Excuse me, kind man, can you spare a moment of your time?'
A courteus voice interrupted my train of thoughts
'I'm sorry, are you referring to me?'
'Yes, yes. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?'
The person addressing me was a dwarf dressed with the typical clothes of the church, specifically, the cult of Stone, one of the Six, also referred to as "The Healer"
He looked middle-aged - but then again, so do all dwarves - and beside his clothes, had no distinctive mark, I guessed he adhered to the vow of poverty typical of his specific church.
'Of course, please, ask away'
'Oh, but how rude of me, I'm Sturm, priest of the Congregation of Stone, pleased to meet you'
'Likewise. I'm Tarkus... Wandering adventurer, and the one over there Sasha'
I said pointing at the elf, who was trying her best to stay out of the conversation
'I was wondering, are you perhaps travellers? Perhaps from the south?'
'As it happens, yes'
'In that case, have you by any chance met another priest, one by the name of Truum?'
'Can't say I did, I'm sorry'
'Don't worry, I'll find him eventually'
'Anything else I can do for you?'
'Not at the moment, no, but I was thinking I should do something to repay the favor. How about I show you around'
I was half tempted to accept, but I could just imagine Sasha's reaction
'That is a generous offer, but we don't really need-'
'Nonsense! Everyone needs a guide now and then'
'But we-'
'Tell me, Tarkus, where are you going? It reminds me, it's getting close to midday, have you had lunch yet?'
In the end we couldn't do anything but accept Sturm as a guide.
'What were you thinking?! A guide?!'
Sasha wasn't taking the outcome well, and started hissing into my ears, just far away from the dwarf not to be heard
'I tried refusing, he wasn't taking "no" as an answer'
'Then try harder! A guide! Dwarf, no less! A priest too!'
'At least he's showing us a place to eat'
'One copper we'll end up paying his share'
'What?'
'I'm betting one copper coin he wants us to pay for him'
'Come on, you're overreacting'
'You two all right?'
Sturm stopped to wait for us
'Everything alright, thanks'
'As I was saying, see this house? These are the markings of the Forgehands Clan, written in the Language of the Earth, a language that today is only known by stonemasons and scholars'
'And what does it say?'
Sasha said pretending to be interested, or simply mocking him
'I'm glad you asked, you see, each one of these represents the Clan's history, and tells you their most important deeds. Here you can also see...'
We finally arrived at a place called "The Ranch".
Sturm took his "job" seriously, and explained everything he knew about the roads we were going through. Listening to him made you think that each and every stone in the city had a story to tell.
Entering the establishment we could see that few of the tables were occupied, and the room itself didn't feel too impressive. I didn't have the best expectations, but our guide was calling it "The best place in town, maybe the whole region"
'Sasha, dear, you can remove your hood, don't be disrespectful'
'I don't think that would be a good idea-'
'Nonsense! Did I forget to tell you? One of the reason I chose this place is because they don't mind elves'
'Wha- You knew all along? How did you notice?'
Sturm just smiled and added
'My god gave me a vision'
Sasha could do nothing but sigh, and take a look at what the inn had to offer
'So, what are you two doing in this city? I guess you're not just visiting'
'Didn't your vision include that as well?'
Sasha, not wanting to admit her previous defeat, teased back at the priest
'Of course, but I was simply being courteus'
'Oh really? Then I don't need to tell you'
'The graveyard, right?'
Sasha's eyes widened in surprise, I too was surprised, Gods rarely give visions, and they do only to the highest of-
'Hah, too easy! You should have seen the look on your faces! Come on, two adventurers on Crystal Road, they're either going to the graveyard or into the mines'
'So, you just guessed'
'When you've lived in this city for as long as I did you start to learn the patterns. But I didn't hear of any disaster in the mines, nor did I hear of any family being distressed by monsters and the like'
'An informed guess, then'
'Which leaves me with my original question: what are you doing in this city?'
'We're investigating a problem in the graveyard: apparently some families were forbidden from visiting the graves of their loved ones'
I decided to answer before Sahsa teased him further
'Ah, a sad tale, that of the Tordias Clan'
'Toridas? The name we were told is Unia Faroma, the husband hasn't been able to visit her for 20 or so years'
'Hmm... This does sound fairly similiar to the Tordias Clan mausoleum'
'How so?'
'First, a little history: the Tordias Clan was once prosperous and influential, a few centirues ago, but nowdays nobody can claim that Clan name and only a branch remains, by the name of Tordial. The members of the Tordial were suddently kept out of their forefathers resting place, the graveyard keeper claimed some problems with structural integrity. They tried to pay for the renovations needed, but they were denied, as technically only the Clan itself can'
'Seems a lot of useless bureocracy'
Sasha quietly commented
I gave her a stern look, but she just shrugged
'It does seem similiar, we'll check it too'
'I think that will be impossible for two outsiders alone, it's a great honor to be admitted into a Clan mausoleum, one that can only be granted by the one currently sitting at its head...'
'Which in this case is long dead, correct?'
'I'm afraid so'
After we were done, we departed towards the graveyard, sticking to our original plan of investigating the Faroma mausoleum, hoping to find anything beside a building in desperate need of repair
'You owe me a copper'
'What for?'
'The priest. He did have us pay his share as well'
'I didnt think you were serious'
'Backing out of a bet after having lost? That's not so honorable of you...'
'Alright, alright. There, happy?'
She smiled at me
'Yes, thank you very much. Now, care to remind me why he's following us all the way?'
'He insisted'
'Again?! So, what, somebody just kindly asks you twice and you'll do anything they ask?'
'He is very insistent. If you think you can do better you could try yourself, you know'
'Hey, mister priest!'
'It's "Sturm", dear'
'Sure is. Say, why are you still going with us?'
'I am still going to see you through as your guide'
'So you say, but the graveyards can be very dangerous'
'How so?'
'What do you mean "How"? Aren't you scared of the undead?'
'You don't know? This city hasn't had a single incident in decades'
'What?!'
'Not only that: even regular monsters have been keeping out of the city'
'How?!'
'I'd love to claim that our unshakable faith is part of the reason, but in truth a mage came long ago, he casted some sort of spell on the city. Ever since, the only incidents we have of the kind are outside of the city, or in the mines'
I couldn't help but snicker
'I remember you saying-'
'I know what I said and I stand by it. Priest-'
'Sturm'
'- you do realize that if such a spell really existed, that mage would have statues all across the world?'
'Is it that big of a deal?'
'Of course it is! And the fact that I haven't seen any, nor heard about any miracle mage makes this whole story incredibly suspicious'
Still discussing, we arrived at the central graveyard of West Brega.
Its imposing walls and gates were finely decorated with some scripts that Sturm could surely tell us about for days.
Guarding the gates was a fat dwarf, who was smoking from a pipe, who jumped down from its chair when he saw us
'Ah, father Sturm, I wasn't expecting your visit'
'I needed to clear my head a bit, do you mind if I take a stroll?'
'Here? I don't mind, but can I ask why here of all places?'
'Sometimes you need to follow your heart'
'And what about the other two?'
Before I had the time to say anything, Sturm had already responded
'Don't mind them, just two long lost relatives of some Faroma family or something, you know how these humans are... Say, would you be a dear and open it for us?'
'Let me see here... Hmm... No, I'm afraid to say I can't, it has been deemed unsafe, council orders, apparently'
'Exactly the problem, see, they wanted to check the place to see how much it would cost to make it safe again, and asked me to help them'
'But... Without papers I-'
'Nonsense! I am here to vouch for them, they don't need to delve into dwarven bureocracy. They have little time, and must return to Lannsport on the morrow, they wouldn't have the time anyway'
'But-'
'Come on, now, days of travel, just to be stopped at the last few meters?'
'I-'
'All the hardships of their journey! They had to close shop, you see? Just for a last tribute to their long forgotten ancestor'
'...'
'I'll take that as a yes'
'Father, you put me in a dire spot'
The gravekeepr said handing a key to the priest
'If anybody ask I'll say I just found my way in'
When that was over and we were finally into the walls, I was still processing what had happened.
'Pretty sly for a priest'
Sasha said, her tone half mocking Sturm
'See, Caith is the Godess of Duty and Honor, I am but a lowly priest of the Congregation of Stone'
The graveyard itself was massive, it was the size of a small village, at least a kilometer wide, dotted with graves and the occasional mausoleum.
Even knowing the general position - North-West side in our case -, it took us hours to finally find our target.
It was indeed an old building, the stone details had been lost to time and the elements, with no light inside. On the front, an iron fence stopped us, with a small iron gate at the center, closed by a padlock.
The fence was a bit worn and rusty, but still looked sturdy. The padlock, instead, was rusted to the point you could barely see the metallic shine underneath
Sturm approached the gate, key in hand, and started messing with the padlock
'This isn't right'
'Don't tell me he gave us the wrong key'
Sasha was aleady envisioning the trip back, and the excuses we'd have to make to go in tomorrow
'Tarkus, would you mind holding this?'
He said offering me the key
'Sure, but why?'
'See, this padlock, it seems closed, but look'
He forced the lock open, it took a bit of brute force, but it was almost immediate
'It wasn't locked properly, but rather, almost closed, and the rust made it look as if it was'
'And? A rusted padlock on a gate nobody cares about had been closed incorrectly'
Sasha added, uninpressed
'It was too precise. It has to be intentional. And this padlock, see this alloy?'
He scraped a bit of the rust away, revelaing the dull gray of the metal underneath before continuing
'It's meant to resist the elements. It takes more than a few decades to rust it up to this point. This seems hundreds of years old, and more than just a few hundreds, especially for something that was supposedly used up to twenty years ago'
Sasha remained silent, not adding any snarky comment, for once, and instead looked serious.
Entering the crypt, we lit a torch.
It was a small room, and the flickering flame made it difficult to read some of the epitaphs, but we could still see how much grandeur it once had, describing the deeds of this noble woman, and her history with her husband. At the center was a sarcophagus, the lid sculpted in the visage of the woman it contained, a smile on her face, adorned with the items she and her husband created.
While I was busy reliving the tale of a long dead sorcerer, my companions had been busy investigating:
Sturm was circling the room, touching, prodding and checking the stones, while Sasha circled the room, sniffing the air from time to time
'This isn't right at all'
'What is it this time, father'
Sasha was avoiding mocking the priest, and that put me on edge a bit
'This place isn't unsafe at all, the masonry is still perfectly stable!'
'I was noticing that, too. I can also feel a breeze, but can't seem to find where it ends- there!'
She pointed at Sturm's foot, who froze
'Check it'
She kept pointing at the same spot, as if otherwise it would be lost forever, while Sturm gave it a few firm stomps
They looked at each other
'Hollow'
'Might be a trapdoor'
They both started searching the ground for a way to open it, but they only managed to outline the hatch. It had been positioned in a corner, where nobody would normally go.
'Seems it can only opened from the inside'
'Or by magic. Do you know any, father?'
'Now it isn't the time for jokes'
'Worth a try'
'There might be an hidden switch or something- wait, this brick feels loose'
He managed to dislodge abrick from the ground, revealing a small handle connected to the hatch.
When they opened the hatch, we were assaulted by the smell of rotting flesh, and revealed a small ladder going into the darkness of a tunner, large enough for a single person to go through. I closed in with the torch, revealing the floor of the tunnel
'Stranger still, this isn't dirt, it's stone, but it's too smooth...'
'A spell was used to do this, father'
Sasha said with certainty in her eyes, before descending
'Ugh, it's even worse down here'
'See anything?'
'It's pitch black, how could I?! Hurry up with the torch'
Going down a ladder with a lit torch was a challenge, but I managed somehow, jumping the last meter or so
'Father Sturm, it's best if you go infor-'
'Nonsense! I led you here and I'm going to see it through'
'But there might be dangers'
'My faith protects me'
'With all respect-'
'Father, listen to Tarkus, you don't seem combat trained, this is a bad place to be, go to the guardhouse and te-'
'Never! Don't underestimate me, I know how to use this'
While we were arguing - uselessly, I might add - he already descended down the ladder, and now presented us with a small mace, which looked cerimonial, but was still made of steel.
We resigned ourselves to the presence of the old priest, and continued down the tunnel, which sloped slightly downwards.
I led the group, torch and arming sword in hand, thankful that I left my greatsword at the inn, it would be a problem to use it in the small confines of a tunnel.
Sasha was behind me, unarmed, but she seemed confident enough.
Closing the group was Sturm, mace in one hand and his prayer book in the other.
There were tales of priests who invoked the power of their divinity to smite evil and cure wounds, but they were glorified versions of the truth: in reality priests are nothing more than alchemists, when it comes to skills, albeit they do have some secret recepies, Healing potions being the most important and closely guarded.
I was relieved to see that Sturm had also donned a belt with some potions in it.
After a few meters, the tunnel suddently turned left , and when I was about to reach the turn, I heard some sounds.
I cautiously checked after the bend.
Three skeletons, armed with shovels, were digging upwards. It made no sense at first, but I realized soon enough: they were hoping to find a body
'Why did you stop?'
The hushed voice of the dwarf was enough for the three skeletons, they immediatly turned towards me, and within a split second they were already coming at me.
'Skeletons!'