Turn 16 - Days 83 to 91 - Mankhandun

The Temple of Sisyn has been liberated.  Worship of the god, which has been in voluntary or involuntary abettance for quite some years, can now resume.  The High Priestess - daughter of Tidjit's Alderman, but now under the influence of the village's shaman - and that the company had been dispatched to Okerdik to bring back home - can now lead members of a suddenly reappearing cult, to the temple to purify it.

The company continues to be unsure whether the return of this Death God cult is a good thing.  No doubt it will strengthen resistance against the Jungle Deep, but at what cost to the people of these lands ?

What will the quest that Sisyn has set for Drake's Seven, and which they can hardly refuse without losing Tidjit's friendship, allow the Death God to accomplish ?  Will Godric's keeping back of the strange object he found in the Temple, and which surely belonged to a long-dead High Priestess, make any difference to those plans ?

Is it a coincidence that Kehar, the forest shaman who had, far more than any of them, built some link with Sisyn, has fallen in his Temple, and been clearly welcomed into the divinity's arms ?

What is the link between Sisyn, and the mysterious and haunted Taran burial ground located in The Shroud, on some ancient battle site where their chariot-warriors seem to have died in great numbers ?  The company had first crossed paths with Sisyn's white stag shortly after fleeing the baleful site, and the statuettes they had recovered there generated a lot of excitement in Tidjit.  The shaman had called them zilniri, and bought them to prevent Sisyn "leaving his dreams".

Godric and Partheghimeos hope that the scholar from the Cascades, who has just ridden into Tidjit with a small company of Rangers, might be able to consult his colleagues and shed some light on what the Death God and his worshippers have planned.

In the meantime, the agents of the Jungle Deep must be stopped, and the enemy of one's enemy...

Their choice of camp brought them some unexpected luck.  Near dawn, Mina who was on picket duty, intercepted an unarmed visitor.  It turned out he was a healer, used to coming to this place where useful herbs often thrived.  He not only patched up Ruiaridh [gaining one turn of healing], he also volunteered to accompany him back to Tidjit.  Everyone agreed, the hedgehog would be able to update his countrymen on the enemy intentions they had learned so much of.

With the Tidjit warrior out from under their feet, and no longer constantly badgering them about their quest for Sisyn, the company could also more freely choose what to do next.

The parchments taken from the dead captain had confirmed the presence of an enemy encampment west of Mankhandun.  Godric, and as far as they could tell, Krik, were all for pushing their advantage and striking another, hopefully fatal, blow against the Ruin Within.

"There are only four of us", Mina observed, nonetheless chewing complacently.

"We should go to Mankhandun", piped up the chipmunk wizard.  "We might be able to recruit a bit of help there.  We can ask the monks for those sacred texts the Priestess is hoping for...."

"And pick their brains about this cult of Sisyn", Godric finished for him.

"Or their library", replied Parthoghimeos, his eyes shining. 

The healer's indications allowed the company to curate enough Silvertree Leaf in the vicinity for another healing dose.  With seven pouches of it now in stock, Godric was confident in their ability to risk another fight.  Parthoghimeos' excited squeaks raised his hopes even further.  The diminutive magician had found a congealed strand, wrapped around one of the long vines poking out through the statue's eye.

"I don't think that Sisyn is the only half-forgotten god of these lands", Mina murmured.

 

Travel to Mankhandun was uneventful.  

The monastery was not the most prepossessing of places.  It was a collection of sturdy, but otherwise unimpressive, buildings crafted out of a bluish-black stone, and spread over three different hilltops.  Their squat profile made them look as if they were clinging to the earth, to avoid being swept away from the wind.  Here and there were statues of the same dark stone, of people with kind but concentrated faces.  Their paraphernalia reflected inevitably on the studious nature of the place, but to Godric's surprise, a few bore arms.  He looked more carefully at the place, and started to make out the characteristics of its defenses, playing most subtly on the configuration of the three hills.  Every building had a heavy door and some had recessed windows that looked very much like arrow-slits.

They were calmly received when they presented themselves, offered a cup of a warming beverage whilst a crinkly-faced monk went in search of the Abbot.

The Abbot, a tall sleek otter, was crinkly-faced too.  This turned out to be a common feature.  A result of being constantly weather-beaten whilst squinting at old parchments, suggested Mina later, mimicking the causes in a moment of uncharacteristic humour, that made Parthoghimeos squeak in delight.

"Well met", he said.  "We have heard much about you.  Many thanks to the Rangers of Alladore for answering our call".  Godric apologised for not coming sooner, but the Abbot waved it off.

They spent a while touring the monastery, and discovered that there was much more to it than the surface.  The buildings were all interconnected by tunnels dug into the hills, and the monks used them far more than the overland pathways.  "A new tunnel will turn up now and then", the Abbot told the company, "during repairs.  Or when an overly curious acolyte knocks a bit of wall down", he laughed, as a young porcupine waddled past.  She blushed to the tips of her quills at that comment.  "The rumour has it that Mankhandun is built on the ruins of a Taran city, and many of our foremost scholars think that is literally the case."

"You mean, that the Tarans lived in the tunnels ?" Mina queried.

"It seems quite possible.  We know for sure that there are some quite impressive rooms carved out of the stone.  We avoid excavating them, not wanting to risk upsetting our own foundations".

One of the buildings they visited was an infirmary, and it was quite full.  "That unsavoury mixture of Hu-Mans, rebels and the disaffected that you call 'The Ruin Within' has been causing us trouble for months", the Abbot explained.  "Mankhandun has often had to defend itself against one Tollonian prince or another, better organised and more determined, so we are not in any danger.  The toll of our freedom is however high".

He beamed when he learned that Drake's Seven planned to strike a blow against the enemy's camp. "Noctulo."  He beckoned to a monk who was leaning over a wounded brethren, chanting something in the soft echoing tones that only bats could produce.  The bat stood up, leaning lightly on a staff that he moved as if an extension of himself.

"Noctulo, I would ask you to accompany these Rangers of Alladore westwards.  You will leave...", and the Abbot blushed slightly at his own impoliteness.

"Tomorrow at dawn", interjected Godric, to dissipate any discomfort.  "Your guidance would be most welcome, friend".

"Your staff too", rumbled Mina, and the diminutive bat bowed over it. 

The next stop was the library, and Partheghimeos could at last let out a little cry of barely contained excitement.  It was a solidly defended building, entirely of stone, with a tiled roof so that fire could not easily burn these treasures.  There were thousands of sheaves of manuscripts.

"Time is a little short if we are leaving tomorrow", said Godric, and the chipmunk looked suddenly crestfallen.  "Dear Abbot, would it be impolite of us to leave Parthoghimeos in the care of your chief librarian, whilst we continue our visit ?  Perhaps it would be possible for him to dine in the library, if you can spare the candles ?".  The look he got from the magician tugged a smile from him.

 

Later on, Godric addressed the company's material needs.  The Abbot introduced him to the Quartermaster.  The Ranger brought out the sublime jewellery that he had found on the enemy captain's body, and traded it for a set of new bowstrings for Krik, repairs to his spare bow, and a most welcome repair kit. 

"We will do our best to get this fine work back to its proper owner", the Quartermaster said.  Godric thanked him, without doubting that gold marks would change hands on that occasion.  You can't live off spiritual deeds alone, he smiled to himself.

The remainder of the day went by most pleasantly.  Mina kept herself busy by helping out in the infirmary, Krik by preening his weapons, whilst Godric explored the myriad of tunnels and marvelled at the complexities of a forgotten past.  Noctulo joined them at dinner, during which the Abbot read to the assembled monks and visitors a stirring tale from the Lorebook of the Rangers of Alladore.  There were subtle differences from the tale that Godric knew from the mess halls.  Listening to it, he felt momentarily nostalgic, and wondered what dark terrors his comrades in arms were facing, elsewhere in the world, and indeed how many of them had already given their lives to the defense of Alladore, and indeed the Free World.

After the assembly dispersed, Godric went to find Parthoghimeos in the library.  The chipmunk was bent over a collection of parchments, two other monks, wearily rubbing their eyes, were translating for him certain texts.

"The Custodian has been kind enough to lend three manuscripts to the Priestess of Sisyn", Partho indicated.  "Radefrill here", and a hyena with a ruffled mane nodded at him, "will take them tomorrow to Tidjit, along with ink and quills so that he can then provide a copy of quality for the Priestess.  Beyond that, we have been learning about the god Sisyn, and the part he played, and may play again, in the history of these lands".

"I'm listening", said Godric patiently.

"The parchments are hard to come by, some are very old, and the translations, whilst expertly done, are often fragmentary because the language can be quite obscure, or have been imperfectly copied.  And of course, there is simply not enough time."

"However", the mage continued, "it is perhaps not as bad as I had begun to fear.  There are no traces of any sort of sacrifices.  Sisyn welcomes a person into death, he does not push him towards it.  The Priestess plays an important part in helping a soul pass, using a magical force called the 'Pull', which is amplified by certain objects like those statues we found at the Shroud".  Partho paused to shudder briefly, the confrontation with the necromancer had been terrible for him.

"We do know, however, that the Tarans tried to stamp out the cult of Sisyn.  We have absolutely no idea why.  We can only suppose that they nearly succeeded, because I have not met any scholars who know of this Death God, and I myself have never heard of him until we came here.  Fragments of the cult seem to have been saved, however, when Queen Tara was assassinated."

He trailed off, obviously still thinking it over.

"So, not as bad as you had begun to fear", commented Godric.  "Yet, you are still troubled".

The chipmunk drove out a breath.  "Time", he sighed.  "I have no time, and I know you cannot spare me any.  There is a question I need answering.  The people we call 'Tarans' were obviously a brilliant civilisation, and it seems pretty certain that they were Hu-Mans; nothing like the ragtag groups we know of today.  When Queen Tara died, they seem to just disappear from history.  So much so that we name them after their last queen, we don't even know what they called themselves".

"So ?" inquired Godric.

"Well, we know that Tara was assassinated.  Yet when our present king's father died under suspicious circumstances, Alladore didn't just fall apart, did it ?"

"Arethic II stepped up", confirmed Godric.  He had latched onto the magician's train of thought.  "If he hadn't, well the king's cousin would have sat on the throne.  Or one of the High Lords would have assumed stewardship".

"Exactly", Partho replied.  "Either the Taran's had a very strange system of kingship, or there was literally nobody left to replace their dead queen.  Which is mass murder, not assassination".

"Do you know who the assassins were ?", Godric questioned.

"If I did it would set my mind at rest.  One way or another.  I don't suppose we can climb Killingtara and try to find out for ourselves" he inquired hopefully.