Shadows & Sorcery #44
Welcome to the forty-forth edition of Shadows & Sorcery!
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This week, we descend deep into the Church Dungeon, we get the history behind the Altar Ash, we uncover a frightful Sealed Sacrifice, we take a trip way up to the Crypt of the Heavens, and learn a dark tale of the Hill of the Sorcerers…
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Church Dungeon
"I don't think I'd be remiss in saying it's an odd thing for a church to have!" The scholar thoughtfully curled the edges of his moustache as he gazed into the dank little crevice.
"Indeed you would not," replied the old priest, "but, alas, this is an odd church."
Within the weathered walls of the square little church, on the eastern side, there was a protrusion jutting from the stone floor at a slight angle. Within it were two black iron doors. These were thrown open, and immediately within were damp stone steps, leading down into a lightless passage. It was in extreme contrast to its surroundings, which were of a lighter rock, carved and shaped quite finely, with spaces for nice blue windows with webbed pannelling.
The defining feature of any city church is some claim to historical significance in the revolution, but the defining feature of any country church worth its salt is a legend, a relic, a ghost story - a piece of small, irrelevant, but ancient history the people are proud of. Some scholars spend their lives trawling through the wilderness for hamlets and their church legends. One such scholar stood before an extremely well-kept secret.
"Take a guess, sir, as to what this dungeon once housed."
"Oh, well...can't say I see it being used in a battle, or for one of the seditious upheavals of the Morgo Period, as this IS a rather remote settlement..." The scholar fiddled with the spectacles clamped to his nose as he thought aloud. The priest smiled. "I wonder, was this church was perhaps built upon, ah, unquiet ground?"
"The ground was never the issue! You are right in that this dungeon housed neither enemy soldiers or rebels, though. In fact, sir, not one of the inmates it housed...were human." The scholar's brow raised itself impressively. "Come, sir, and we shall talk."
They descended into the low, cramped dungeon. Thick slabs of dark rock, roughly shaped, and sagging badly made up the general features. Water glistened upon everything and was collecting in murky little pools on the uneven floor. The priest had procured a small torch which he now shone over the half-rotten wooden portals that opened into grim cells.
"Before the revolution--that is, before we found our guidance--this church existed as many did: as a place of communion and searching. Hierophants gazed upon the stars, and peered deep into the cosmos, and saw many strange things therein. As you know, of course, many of those beings once contacted remain as very respectable cults across the realm, but our guidance proved greatest in the end. Thus was the church above us eventually dedicated."
"Ah, so these cells were perhaps used for the imprisonment of heretical hierophants, calling down things best left unspoken of?" The scholar lent a lightly sinister tone to his words, relishing very much what he was hearing.
"In a manner of speaking, sir, yes. But it wasn't the callers they sealed up in here, no. It was what they called that was sealed away." The scholar placed a hand over his mouth in shock.
"You...you mean to tell me that the clerics, these cells, they--"
"Were housing cosmic beings. Before the church above was consecrated to guidance, this was akin to a hunter's lodge, manned by sorcerers who searched the stars for devils anathema to natural human life. They wrested things down from their astral perches and threw them into cells of hard matter. I don't think it would be fair to call them heretics, but they were nonetheless an odd sort."
"What happened to them? And to what they contained here?" The scholar was excited, practically giddy as he peered down the dungeon tunnel and back to the priest.
"You know, I have spent my life in this church, studying guidance, and have never had the heart to block the dungeons up. They did good, I believe, as much of a drop in the ocean as it was. There are no traces left of what they dealt with, mercifully those things have long since been dissipated through arts long lost to even me, here in their church."
"So the evils are long defeated..."
The old priest was quiet for a moment.
"I won't lie, sir. There are times when the stars shine down upon this church, I don't dare wonder what might staring down with them, with wrathful eyes."
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