Chapter 8 – Part 19

“We’re bringing in record hauls,” Baruk told Orphan and Delegado. “The temporary vacuum left by the hag’s demise has made finding and gathering easier.”

“So why aren’t we doing that?” Delegado asked. It was maybe two hours after the ceremony, and the druid was guarding Bartemain’s body in a storage chamber. Delegado, Baruk, a young, mustachioed half-orc named Grullik, a gnoll wearing a suit of armor, and a gnome who had barely had time to introduce himself as Nebly, were all in a council room on the top floor of the tallest building. “What the Khyber are we doing here, making tea, is that it?”

Orphan noted that Delegado was in an exceptionally foul mood. The ceremony had made the half-orc angrier, not calmer.

Baruk tossed a disk onto the middle of the table. “Nebly, you first.”

The gnome took the metal and examined it closely, first with his eyes, and then fumbling for a small lens on a stick that magnified the image. “An unusual alloy,” the gnome said. “Some brass, but also some tin, and then something I can’t tell at all. Definitely aged, you can tell from where the acid damaged it. Part of a fight of some kind, a power struggle here in the Wastes.”

“Feh, I figured that out already,” Grullik muttered. It seemed to Orphan that Grullik was acting irritated because Delegado was acting irritated. The younger half-orc seemed to be in awe of the famous bounty hunter.

“It’s an unholy symbol,” the gnome said. “There’s some magic left, not much. This was used to command undead.” Nably slid the disk down the table to Orphan. “Commander Baruk says that this warforged can help with knowledge of magical and religious matters?”

Orphan picked up the disk and studied it. “This is an evil bound by law, rules and axioms,” he said. “I can tell from the patterns on the edge. It’s old. An old cult. Worshipping undeath, not just commanding it.”

“Blood of Vol?” asked Baruk.

“Something older,” Orphan said. “Maybe demons that worshipped undeath?”

“Why would an immortal being care about undead?” asked Grullik.

“They can’t die of old age, but they can die,” Delegado said. “And if their zombies or skeletons or whatever are stronger than the run of the mill stuff, it’s a potent army.”

“Then why they no use it now?” asked the gnoll. Orphan turned, and was surprised to find that the gnoll had come up with a good point. “Why fiends not use corpse of fiends now?”

Nebly tapped his lips with his fingers. “It is believed by some that they consume each other, but perhaps, just perhaps, you see, there are rumors that many fiends worshipped slain ones, expecting them to return.”

“Under the Wastes are many corpses of great fiends slain by the dragons, long ago,” Orphan said. “If the lesser fiends worship them, they wouldn’t like someone animating the bodies as undead.”

“Not really possible, anyway,” Nebly said. “You would need a store of expensive gems to contain the magic, the more powerful undead, the more gems to channel the necromancy…” His voice trailed off as he realized what he was saying.

“So,” boomed the gnoll, tightening the straps on his armor. “We go find the hidden gems now?”

Baruk grinned. “You bored, Del? You wanna sit here until the eastbound ship comes?”

“Orphan, what do you say?” Delegado asked.

“I say bring Foallus,” the warforged said. “And maybe a dozen others. In case they’re any moving corpses out there.”

“Oh, I’d like to come too!” Nebly said. “I have a journal I’m writing, it would make wonderful notations, really.”

Delegado and Grullik snorted at the same time.