Dapple approached the closed doors cautiously, examining each stair before lighting her weight upon it. Standard wooden steps, only slightly worn form the weather but none seems to be made as pressure plates or triggers to traps. She approached the doors with the same clinical inquiry but quickly ascertained that the door had no lock, although it could be bolted on the inside.

Yet, something caught her eye. A single strand of black hair lay across the handles of the double doors. It was an old trick, something early guild members were taught to see if someone had entered their room. But the hair being on the outside wouldn’t warn anyone inside – it would only tell someone on the outside.

Perplexed, Dapple moves back from the door, ignoring the look of curiosity from Char and the Bard. She goes to the left were a window is inset within the wall, about four feet up from the ground. She quick climbs up the wall and to the window, bracing herself with her feet on either side. She looks over the window, which is a double set with a latch and the outside but shutters closed from within. There, on the latch was a single black hair, laid across so delicately.

Dapple curses in a series of languages and drops down from the ledge. No point checking the other one, she knew what she’d find. It wasn’t a trap, but something about it set her …. Hairs on end. She turned back to the party and reported what she had found. They could enter freely, but someone or something would know they had entered.

Arien frowned, not just at Dapple's findings, but at the entire situation. Not that it was any surprise - they knew that something must be amiss, else the party would not have been sought out to come here. Nevertheless, Arien felt the familiar tension in the pit of his stomach - the missing priests, the unnatural quiet, the sheer ominousness of this place - all added up to spell impending trouble.

That someone would hope to be able to tell from outside that the doors had been disturbed... well, that was truly strange.

"I wonder," the knight breathed, "what sort of thing could be contained within these doors? Why would someone do such a thing?" Of course, no one had a good answer.

"Right, then. Let us be ready for a fight, just in case." The knight drew Liun'naur and spoke the name, causing the mystic blade's flame to ignite. "Maximus, up here with me. Kilgim, you and Char follow. Let Dapple and Flynn take up the rear. Let us move in quickly, get our bearings, and determine if we need to defend ourselves. Although..."

Arien paused for a moment. "Dapple," he asked, "is there any chance that Sunset could possibly peer in through a window, and be able to tell you anything of use? No need for us to storm in, blades bared, if the situation does not call for it."

Depending on the outcome of any potential aerial spying, the knight readied himself with a final whispered prayer to Heironeus. Surely the god could hear the prayer here at his temple? If the pseudodragon could offer no reason to dissuade it, Arien would yank open the door and lunge inside.

As Maximus watched, Dapple quickly, yet quietly, moved past him to first check the door before them. Finding a hair placed upon it the young male thief moved to check the window closet to them and again found a hair placed as if in warning.

Hairs on the outside?, what was so demanding as to know if one traveled in or out? The ex-gladiators thoughts were verbally echoed by Arien who quickly decided how they would proceed.

"I wonder what sort of thing could be contained within these doors? Why would someone do such a thing? Right, then. Let us be ready for a fight, just in case." The knight drew Liun'naur and spoke the name, causing the mystic blade's flame to ignite.

"Maximus, up here with me. Kilgim, you and Char follow. Let Dapple and Flynn take up the rear. Let us move in quickly, get our bearings, and determine if we need to defend ourselves. Although..."

As Maximus moved to comply with Arien’s orders the knight addressed Dapple

“Dapple, is there any chance that Sunset could possibly peer in through a window, and be able to tell you anything of use? No need for us to storm in, blades bared, if the situation does not call for it."

To Maximus that was a very good idea, a very, very good idea if it was possible. Though the small dragon had not landed on his shoulder or flown close to him at the inn, he still cared about its well being. However due to its size in this situation it could be very useful as a scout of sorts. As he moved up the stairs to claim his assigned spot he hoped Dapple would see the benefits too.........

The weight of the Khukri felt good in his hands. It was reassuring that there was something tangible, something he could grip, something real when all they had experienced on this trip thus far seemed to be surreal.

"I wonder what sort of thing could be contained within these doors? Why would someone do such a thing?" Arien muttered in a low tone barely audible enough for the ranger to catch it.

Char turned his attention back to the window, wondering as well if it was something that was being kept inside instead of an indication of security that Da'Moon had discovered. But, the scruffy outdoorsman could do nothing more than speculate the same as his friend had, so he remained quiet in the face of the question, and continued to eye the temple.

Arien paused for a moment. "Dapple," he asked, "is there any chance that Sunset could possibly peer in through a window, and be able to tell you anything of use? No need for us to storm in, blades bared, if the situation does not call for it."

Char frowned into his beard. Sunset had been able to transfer feelings and sensations to them, but he didn't know if the little dragon would be of use as a scout. Still, if anyone were close enough to Sunset to know, it'd be Da'Moon.

The ranger stood quietly by and awaited the little rogue's response, while still peering about for any sign of danger.

“The windows are shuttered from the inside,” Dapple states plainly, “Neither Sunset nor I could see through them. All she can tell me is that are no thoughts or feelings within that she can sense.”

Arien moves up the stairs and opens the doorway. It is dark within but the light of the day and Arien’s sword fills the room. It is a huge room, circular in shape and at least 100 feet in diameter. This room was once used as a greeting area, or a place for healing and mediation. But no more ....

The smell of death hits you all as the doors swing open. Although Arien merely touches the doorway, both doors fly open with tremendous speed. Dapple, attention focus on that single hair sees that it seems to jerk high into the air as the doors part and then vanishes.

There, piled in front of the small set of stairs in to the next room are the bodies of a number of priests. They are very death, and have been for a few days now judging by the smell. They are not only dead but dismembered, as arms, legs and heads are severed beside torso. Blood splatters the walls and floor and you can see from the distance that the hands of the dead all hold tights to kitchen knives, or butcher’s cleavers.

Some of you move to the bodies, feeling a profound grief for the loss of priests who did nothing but help others and yet faced this death. But all of the party hears the sound of laughter in the room - a light soft almost innocent giggle of a young girl.

Char moved up the stairs as Arien reached the door, holding his left Khukri held low before him, his right back and low as well for an upward strike. He was crouched on the balls of his booted feet ready to spring forward, backward, or to the side as necessary. But even as ready as he is, the doors bursting inward caused him to drop into an even lower stance, both swords coming in front of him defensively.

The odor of decaying flesh and blood rolled over him like a troop of enraged ogres causing his sensitive senses to reel and his crystal blue eyes to water. Glancing at Arien and Maximus, he closed off his nostrils internally and breathed only through his mouth waiting on them to enter, and following close on their heels.

Once inside the circular chamber the woodsman peeled off to the left, his weapons still at ready as he scanned the room. His gaze lingered on the carnage a moment longer than he'd have preferred, but it was impulsive and nearly overpowering. It took all of his strength to pull himself from the dismembered, grotesque meat, and when the laughter started the woodsman cursed under his breath.

Casting his gaze about the ceiling, walls, and exits, Char snarled as he looked for the origins of the sound; looking for something to attack.

With no way to ascertain what might lie in wait beyond (and, thus, not even the faintest of clues as to why the hairs Dapple saw had been placed on the outside of the doors and windows) the decision was made to enter the temple through the front door. Flynn, per Arien’s command, took up position at the rear of the party and minded the gardens and path behind them as they advanced up the steps. His gaze, followed by the tip of the arrow still nocked in his bow, swept a slow, scrutinizing circuit around the landscape, ready for anyone or anything to spring an ambush should they have been waiting for this moment to do so. Only when he heard the doors swing open (and smelled the sickly sweet scent of death that the temple breathed out as a result) did the bard abandon his surveillance of what lay behind them and turn to look on the horrific scene. The tension he’d held on the bowstring eased, the point of the arrow dipped towards the ground, and his jaw dropped open as the gruesome sight filled his vision and etched itself into his mind…

“By the sea and stars,” the half-elf managed a revolted whisper after a moment, “What in all the Hells of all the religions has happened here?”

As repulsed as he was by what he saw and smelled, though, he couldn’t help but move forward towards the heap of bodies for a closer look … The bow in his hand was put away and replaced by the scimitar as Flynn moved cautiously towards the savaged remains and, in his mind’s ear, a plethora of dirges and laments suggested themselves… A tear of sorrow welled in Flynn’s eye as he drew closer and he mourned for the loss of these priests lives as much as he mourned for what it might mean to the people of Hevlorn with the clerics and their healing skills so violently taken from them. The sadness grew when, as the bard got close enough to inspect the carnage, he personally recognized more than one of the men…

“Oh no,” he sighed, shaking his head slowly as he sunk to a crouch near one such severed head…

((OOC: Do the bodies look as if they’ve been hacked up by weapons or is it more of a “they were torn limb from limb” thing?))

…Prepared to comment on what he could determine by this closer inspection of the corpses, the bard rose from that crouch much quicker than he had planned when the disembodied laughter of what sounded like a little girl echoed through the chamber and he whirled about scimitar at the ready as he tried to determine, where exactly the sound had come from.

((OOC2: Anyway to make that determination or does the laughter seem to be coming from this very room?))

Adrian couldn't help but let his imagination run wild at the scene. The bastard sword became too heavy for his unfocused body to lift and it clammered to the ground, his arms gone limp.

"Evil was here... is here."

The priests were mutilated. But how and why were the two most important questions to them right now. That might prevent them from ending up with the same fate.

"Perhaps the one large demon? Or something else?"

Adrian plucked his sword and reset a battle formation learned from his drills with the Grey infantry. Hopefully things would go smoothly, but Valentine knew better than to survive on hope alone.

The laughter started him, but he knew that whatever it was could be stopped somehow. He only needed a moment to think.

(OOC: Detect magic for now)

Maximus moved quickly, almost right on the heels of Arien, and was ready for any hostiles should they be encountered. Instead all that they found were a number of bodies piled in front of the small set of stairs, clearly the remains of the priests living here. As the others reacted to the priests state of dismemberment, Maximus had none. During his many years in the gladiatorial pits he had seen much worse and of those suffering such wounds, some were still living at the time.

It was clear the priests weapons, kitchen knives, butcher’s cleavers, and sharp household items had done nothing much for their defense from whatever had killed them all. From behind the big gladiator came the voice of the bard, no longer in song.

“By the sea and stars, what in all the Hells of all the religions has happened here?”

Without looking behind him Maximus answered the half-elf bards question.

“Death”

The next to speak was that of Adrian his voice hushed in horror

"Evil was here... is here, perhaps the one large demon? Or something else?"

Before anyone could answer him the sound of laughter in the room - a light soft almost innocent giggle of a young girl was heard by all. Clearly something watched them, even now, from the shadows of this house of death.........

The feeling of weariness caused by the difficult ride and the climb suddenly disappeared from Kilgim's muscles and bones as he watched Dapple checking out the entrance to the temple. Be it his pessimism or the long time he'd spent with the lad on their adventures together, but the dwarven priest thought he sensed some uneasiness in Dapple's movements. Therefore when the boy turned around to face the rest of the group and gave his report, the cleric already held the duo of battle axes in his strong hands. And the lad's observations proved Kilgim's fear right. Someone (or something) had places hairs on the portals into the building in order to find out whether someone had entered the place or not. Arien said it aloud before the dwarf had time to, and he said it well: "Why would someone do such a thing?"

They were certainly going to find out soon enough, Kilgim knew. The cleric already had a really bad feeling about what they would face when the door opened. A whole temple didn't go silent just like that, on its own. The heir of the Thedell family gave the order and the bald cleric took his place beside Char. Like always before a possible fight, the dwarf rolled his shoulders and twisted his neck this way and that to loosen some muscles. He then nodded to Arien. "Ready when ye are, lad."

The smell hit him before his deep brown eyes could drink in the view. Death. It was a wonder that the stench had not reached their noses outside the walls. Perhaps there was some magic at work or maybe it was just the well made, tight doors that had held it back. The way the doors opened was strange too. It was as if something very powerful had pulled the open from the inside. Unconsciously Kilgim's left hand, still holding the handle of his axe, reached up to touch the holy symbol of Clangeddin hanging from his neck on top of his silver breast plate. "Gods aid us. What in the name o' the Wyrmslayer 'appened in 'ere?"

Kilgim had thought he'd seen everything by now, but this was beyond anything he'd witnessed before. All the bodies of the priests had been dismembered in a horrible, not-so-clean manner. And what made it even more strange and terrible were the hands... The cut-off hands were holding knives as if there was still life in them. The warrior-priest began muttering prayers to the Lord of the Twin Axes begging for his god to help the poor souls of the dead priests. He knew the prayers came late as the bodies were clearly a few days into the process of decomposition, but there was no harm in trying. After he'd taken a few steps closer, the macabre situation became even more terrifying when the light laughter started ringing around the room…

---

OOC: Kilgim moves towards the bodies with the Blackaxe in one hand and holy symbol in the other. Casting Detect Evil.

When the doors whooshed open, Arien clutched his flaming longsword even tighter as he prepared for the attack that was sure to come.

Only, it never did.

The scene was a nightmare come to life - the poor priests have been massacred, their bodies deflied and dismembered. It was enough to turn even a hardened warrior's stomach.

Something caught the knight's eye - every dead priest was holding a knife or cleaver. What manner of evil is this?, he wondered. Had the priests fought for their defence, they would have surely used staves, hammers, or maces. Even if one or two elected to use a proscribed blade, there was zero chance that they all would have. Furthermore, the blades were still held tight; this made no sense. Typically, when a person died, their muscles went slack. Certainly, some might still hold a item, especially if the tendons were quickly cut and prevented somehow from loosening, but for all of them?

No, this felt horribly wrong. Arien was filled with a sense of foreboding... this felt like a message, or worse yet, a trap.

Carefully, the knight advanced, taking care to circle the perimeter of the room. "Something is amiss here," he warned, "even more so than meets the eye." Quickly, Arien shared his fear regarding the knives.

The giggle of the girl added even more otherworldly horror to the scene. There was no cause here for mirth - only madness or the purest form of evil could muster such a reaction. Arien's thoughts flew to the dream they had lived, where they had all perished. The giggle felt like something that would have come from the dream.

"What evil hides here?" he demanded aloud, weapons at the ready. "Show yourself!"

The hairs on the entrances bothered Dapple, though she couldn’t precisely say why. It seemed so…stagey, almost. While useful for letting you know if someone had entered your rooms or rifled through your things, such a minor signal seemed silly in this context. If you’d sealed the place up so tight that the priests couldn’t leave, would you really want to come all the way up the mountain to check if anyone “dropped in”?

Arien decided that a straightforward approach was best, and Dapple simply shrugged and melted off to the side as the warriors prepared to enter. She’d done her job, now the others would earn their silver. She watched closely, though, blinking and repressing a start when the doors flew open, and so noted the single hair rise up and vanish into thin air. Something’s just learned of our arrival hissed the dead voice within her, and Dapple nodded to herself.

As the others entered the hall, Dapple slipped among them, finding the shadows and melting into their embrace. Her only willing lover, she let the darkness touch her and fill her, leaving her more alive then when hiding in sunlight. The bodies of the priests drew her attention, but, like the hair, she was bothered not so much by their deaths, but the seemingly artificialness of their repose. If something wanted her to be focused on the priests, she decided, then she would pay attention to everything else, and so she began a careful circuit of the room, looking for anything hidden in the gloom.

Arien, like the others, was fixated by the priests, but when he explained his thoughts to the others, Dapple nodded approvingly. As much as he seemed distracted earlier, he was alert now, and had put his finger on what had been bothering Dapple about the bodies.

The childish laughter stopped her in her tracks, however, every hair on her body rising and her eyes opening wide. Embarrassed by her fright, Dapple told the others about the hair vanishing upon their entrance, her voice roughened by the tightness in her throat.

“By the sea and stars,” the half-elf managed a revolted whisper after a moment, “What in all the Hells of all the religions has happened here?”

"Evil was here... is here."

"Gods aid us. What in the name o' the Wyrmslayer 'appened in 'ere?"

"What evil hides here?" he demanded aloud, weapons at the ready. "Show yourself!"
Nothing came forth the answer the challenge of the knight. The room seemed eerily quiet after the laughter. Adrian began the casting of a spell while Kilgim murmured a prayer to his god.

Flynn goes close to the bodies and sinks to a crouch by a severed head. Looking over the body parts, he notices something immediately – the parts are all severed clean and straight, almost perfectly straight cuts and all in the exact same spots – through the joints of the shoulder, elbow and wrist, hip, knee ankle and the neck.

Adrian’s spell is a quick one, revealing to him the magic within the room. At first it seems to be all around them, throughout the room like a fog or a mist. But then the vision clarifies and he sees so many patterns and designs within in the magic. It is so complex, yet complicated and oh so beautiful. Adrian couldn’t help himself but to stop and stare at the beauty of the threads of light moving around them and towards them.

Suddenly, the doors you entered slam shut behind you! The violence of the closure shakes the foundation of the building. All of you turn as the loud slam except Adrian, who is still staring upwards with a goofy expression on his face.

Then Maximus feels his sword starting to move out of his hand. He grips tightly as his vorpal sword lifts high into air, taking his feet off the ground by inches. The feminine voice is heard again, “I want the pretty!” Maximus pulls hard and comes down to the ground, the sword suddenly free in his hand again. Then again, something seems to grab the sword and pull from above, but this time Maximus is ready and yanks it back with all his strength. The sword comes free again and the voice speaks from beyond, “Naughty boy!”

Adrien, Char and Dapple look on helplessly, not knowing what to do but feeling like they should be ready for an attack. Sunset burrows deep into Dapples cloak and hisses loudly.

Kilgim finished his prayer and sees a low level emanation of evil throughout the room.At first it appears as a mist but then it seems so complex and filled with patterns. The beauty of the design however, is lost on the pragmatic dwarf and he feels no compulsion to stare at it. The evil concentrates around Maximus’ sword as it struggles to get away. It seems to have formed around the red mage but …

Years of training in the red corps forced a mental discipline into Valentine. Even as he felt himself compelled by the weaving pattern, he started using concentration tools he’d been taught to push away the mesmer and see what was true. Physically, he shakes his head and forces himself to dismiss the spell so he can see it no more. But he knew now, as did Kilgim, that the room was full of magical threads, so thin and light that they were passing through them without knowing.

Suddenly, the dead bodies of the priests begin to move. Arms and legs pull to the torso, and arms and hands reconnect together into a macabre resemblance of life as the heads roll and jump back on to the waiting neck. Flynn moves himself back a few steps as the priests reform, weapons in hands and moving awkwardly towards you – like grotesque puppets on strings.

Char's eyes narrowed as the ex-gladiator was lifted into the air. He knows that the blade has special, magical powers far beyond those of his own weapon, and the thought that those powers could possibly fall into the invisible hands of the enemy chilled him to the bone. Yet, before he could react (intent as he was on rushing over to help the big man retain his grip on the sword) Maximus pulled free. Not once, but twice. It was obviously frustrating the female entity who called out her disappointment.

The ranger cast about for some indication of a caster. He was familiar enough with magic to know that one had to be about. So, he visually searched all of the nooks and crannies, the exits from the room, windows...anywhere that would afford the caster a place to survey the chamber from a safe vantage (he knew that most spellcasters preferred to maintain a safe distance between them and their victims). However, his attention was brought back to the mound of corpses when they started to move.

"Kilgim!" Char yelled as he sprang into action, both swords back ready for a decapitating blow against the first he came across. "Undea'!"

The ranger sought to position himself in such a local so as to put their new companion at his back. It wasn't ideal for him, but the bard was the closest to the zombie-puppets, and Char didn't want to get flanked.

"Ba' t' ba', Flynn!" Char called out again. "Mo' ba' t' da wall."

As Maximus listened to the voice of the female laughing, his attention on finding its source, he was almost caught off guard when a force grabbed at the Vorpal Sword in his hand. His strength built over the long years in the arena did not fail him as he held on. “I want the pretty!”
Saying nothing Maximus’s greater strength seemed to prevail as the force released the sword, only to attempt to grab it once more. However this time the big man was ready and had no trouble fending off the second attempt.
“Naughty boy!”
“Show yourself Demon and face me, then try to take my sword if you can!!”

Standing ready, the sword held strongly, Maximus waited for something to fight................