Ring of the Or'tux, page 32
Not far past the arched entryway, the passage opened onto a bare, rectangular room. Not much more than thirty feet by forty, it may have once been a guard room. There were two other exits leading from the room. One was a passage directly across from where they entered. The other was the beginning of an ascending stairway in the wall to their right.
Larus came into the room and paused to consider which way to go.
Hunter walked around over to the passage extending from the room and peered into the darkness beyond. A noise caused him to turn and find Larus approaching.
“So,” began Larus. “Which way?”
Surprised to say the least that Larus would ask him, he asked, “How would I know?”
Larus pulled forth the crystalline arachnid. “This led us here,” he explained. “And you were the one found with it.”
Hunter stared at the arachnid but didn’t take it. Something about it bothered him though he couldn’t say what. Then he turned his eyes back to Larus.
He could see Hunter was reticent about taking the crystalline arachnid. He could also tell Hunter wasn’t about to be any help in deciding which way to go. Sighing, he slipped the arachnid back within his shirt and turned toward Father Thomas. The priest stood over by the flight of steps, looking up into its dark recesses. Crossing the room he was soon by his side.
Father Thomas heard his approach and turned from the steps.
“Any feelings on which way to go?” Larus asked. When Father Thomas shook his head negatively, Larus asked, “Which way don’t you want to go?”
Hesitating only slightly before pointing toward the steps, he said, “That way feels wrong.”
“Wrong?” questioned Larus. “In what way?”
“It just does,” replied Father Thomas. “More so than the rest of it.” Turning his eyes back toward the steps leading up into darkness, he shuddered.
“Hmmmm,” murmured Larus. Stepping closer to the steps, he gazed up into the darkness but failed to feel whatever apprehension plagued the priest. Must have something to do with rival gods, he theorized.
Nestled within his shirt he could feel the cold body of the arachnid. Its importance had yet to be determined, but he was positive it was more than just something to lead them to this place. From what Father Biern had said back at the High Temple, the spider was the symbol of the Or’tux god. Was it mere chance that the crystalline arachnid found its way into the Caves, ultimately to be found by Hunter? Larus thought that very unlikely.
Moving the torch into the stairwell opening, he raised it as high as he could to illuminate as much of the upper reaches as possible. The steps rose steeply for several feet before curving and disappearing to the right.
The touch of a hand on his arm startled him and he almost dropped the torch. Glancing back, he saw the hand belonged to Father Thomas.
“We should move on,” advised the priest.
Larus nodded and stepped back from the stairwell.
“Over here!” exclaimed Hunter excitedly. Still standing by the mouth of the other passage, he waved for them to join him. When Larus and Father Thomas moved across the room, he pointed toward the floor. “I think Shank went this way,” he stated.
In the light of the torch was the barely perceptible impression of a boot in the dust covering the floor. Larus was no expert in such things, but it did look as if the boot print had been there for some time.
“It isn’t mine,” Hunter assured the others. Putting his boot next to the print, he showed them that the other was an inch longer.
“Alright,” said Larus. “We’ll follow Shank a little bit longer.” Next to him he heard Father Thomas breathe a sigh of relief. Stepping into the passage, he held aloft the torch and said, “Come on.”
The passage led straight for over a hundred feet. Occasionally there would be other passages joining theirs, but after searching for boot imprints in the dust, found Shank had bypassed them all. Continuing on, they followed the indistinct prints until the passage opened onto another room, smaller than the previous one.
As the light of their torch began illuminating the room, they discovered this room was not left bare as had the previous one. An oval room, it was dominated by a stone table situated in the middle.
Intricately carved in what looked to be arcane symbols, its exact nature was hard to determine, for their eyes had difficultly remaining focused upon it. The more one stared, the worse their vision became. Looking away brought a person’s vision back to normal almost instantly, though if one looked at the table again, their vision would quickly falter.
“What is causing that?” Hunter asked after several failed attempts to get a satisfactory look. Rubbing his eyes, he gave up looking at it for his head had begun to ache.
“I don’t know,” replied Larus. “Must have something to do with the Or’tux god I would think.” He too was having difficulties with seeing the table. Turning to Father Thomas, he saw the priest had broken out in a sweat again and was even paler. “Father?” he asked.
“I…I,” he began then closed his eyes and took a calming breath before turning his attention to Larus. “It is like nothing I have ever encountered before.” Moving his head, he directed his gaze away from the center of the room, and the table. “I have never even heard of anything affecting a person so.”
“Shank went through here,” Hunter said. Not far from where they stood, another boot print was clearly visible further into the room. “It looks like he went over there.”
Larus followed the prints as they went around the table to the right and saw where they entered an opening beyond which was the beginning of steps disappearing down into darkness. Aside from the steps, the only other way from the room other than the way they had come was an arched entrance to another passage on their right.
Hunter turned back to Larus and asked, “Should we continue to follow?”
Before Larus could reply, Father Thomas said in a raspy voice, “Yes.”
Both turned toward the priest. “Are you sure?” Larus asked.
Father Thomas nodded. “Take another look at the wall on either side of the opening leading to the steps,” he said.
Larus turned and was quick to see what Father Thomas was talking about. For mounted on the wall at eye level on either side were stone carvings, carvings which were an exact match for the crystalline arachnid resting within Larus’ shirt. “I think you may be right,” he agreed. They were made of the same material as were the walls and at first hadn’t been noticed. Their eight legged bodies looked as if they had been frozen in motion, head down. The other passage leading from the room didn’t have them.
Keeping to the edge of the room in order to maintain as much distance between himself and the table, Larus led the others to the top of the steps. Once there, they found the stone spiders to be torch sconces. There was an opening within the thorax of each where a torch could be inserted.
“Stay close,” Larus advised the other two as he stepped onto the first step. The torch’s light revealed steps winding around in a tight circle, disappearing into the unknown. “And watch your step,” he said as he began the descent. For three complete revolutions did they follow the winding steps before emerging at another room that was larger by far than the one above.
“Oh my,” breathed Hunter when he saw the gigantic spider statue taking up the entire wall to their left. It had to be ten foot high with each of its eight legs being at least twenty feet in length. Its jewel faceted eyes seemed to peer at them, almost as if questioning their right to be there.
Sitting before the spider could only be the Or’tux altar. Massive in its own right, the altar was a ten foot wide block of black obsidian, oval in shape, and concave. Dark stains marred the surface, evidence of the ritual sacrifices the Or’tux performed for their god.
Over a dozen niches dotted the other three walls of the room. Each stood in empty prominence, all but a couple bore red stains similar to those upon the altar. There were five pedestals within the room as well, what once stood upon them was now lost to time.
“The altar of the Or’tux,” Father Thomas said.
A glance to the priest revealed that the pallor of his face had vanished only to be replaced with a grim expression of determination. When Larus turned to enter, Father Thomas stopped him by laying a hand upon his arm. “No,” he said. “I shall lead here.”
Larus paused a moment then gave the priest a nod. “As you wish Father,” he said. Taking a step back, he allowed Father Thomas to precede them into the room.
“Bad things happened here,” Father Thomas said. Moving toward the altar, he silently sent a stream of prayers up to his goddess. The sight of the giant spider and the altar before it had at first sent fear coursing through him, practically rendering him immobile. Being before such objects of evil worship had threatened to overthrow him.
But then, his hand brushed the sliver of wood he had carried with him since just before the Qyaendri appeared to him in the ruins of his temple in Billin. It gave him comfort, banishing the fear. Then from somewhere deep within his soul, the strength of faith flared anew bringing with it a renewed sense of purpose, of hope. No longer would Father Thomas quail at the fear this place sought to instill in him. Was he not an anointed priest of Casdralla? Was he to bow to the forces of another?
His faith clothed him like an armored shell as he strode across the room toward the spider and the altar before it. Negative energy railed at him from the altar, perhaps sensing he served another. A glance behind him revealed that neither Hunter nor Larus appeared to be affected by what he felt. “Do you feel that?” he asked.
“Feel what?” asked Larus.
“A malevolence,” he replied. “Traces of hatred, of rage, of evil.”
Larus shook his head, as did Hunter when Larus translated Father Thomas’ words for him.
“It does not want us here,” Father Thomas added as he turned back toward the altar.
The altar itself was relatively simple as altars go. The concave center just large enough to allow an average sized human to lie within. Dotting the bottom of the concave surface were several openings barely an inch in diameter. What they were was soon revealed when Father Thomas led them around the altar to the other side. There they found an outflow where the Or’tux high priest could collect the blood of those sacrificed.
Now that they were close to the giant spider which they believed to be the representation of the Or’tux god, they could see that each of the six eyes was composed of a dozen gems set close together. Curious, Hunter reached out to touch them.
“I would not do that,” warned Father Thomas.
Hand poised a mere inch from the nearest eye, Hunter glanced back toward the priest. He could see the implied warning in the priest’s eyes of untold danger.
“This place is better left undisturbed,” stated Father Thomas. Beside him, Larus nodded agreement.
Bringing his hand back, Hunter acquiesced to their judgment. He then turned his attention to the spider as a whole and noticed how on either side of the massive body, the legs arched in such a way that a man could walk beneath. Each set of four legs formed their own walkway running alongside the spider. Intrigued, he went to the legs on the spider’s right to inspect their construction further. That was when he saw the doorway situated at the far end of the walkway formed by the legs.
“Hey!” he hollered to the others as he moved beneath the arched legs. “There’s a door here.” Pausing beneath the second leg, he glanced back to the others and waved for them to join him.
“Wait!” cautioned Father Thomas as he rushed forward.
Ignoring Father Thomas, Hunter turned back toward the doorway. Excited by the prospects of what could lay beyond the doorway, he started forward. Now that he was within the walkway formed by the legs of the spider statue, he could clearly make out what was left of the door that had once stood within the doorway. Now little more than a shattered remains of its former self, the door sat askew, still connected by a single hinge to the door jamb two feet from the floor. As the other two hurried to join him, the light from the torch Larus carried was reflected by a piece of crystal still adhering to the door.
“Hunter,” Father Thomas said as he entered the walkway behind him, “stop!”
Though the word was foreign, his meaning was not. Hunter came to a stop and waited for the priest to join him. Pointing to the cracked shard of crystal on the door, he asked, “Is that what I think it is?”
Taking a step past Hunter, Father Thomas paused as he gazed toward the shard of crystal glittering in the torch’s light. “Larus,” Father Thomas said, turning toward him, “let me see the spider.”
Removing the spider from his shirt, Larus handed it to the priest.
Holding it before him, Father Thomas crossed the remaining distance to the door. Looking from the shard on the door to the crystalline arachnid, then back again, he nodded. “There used to be another of these spiders mounted upon this door.” Then with a wave, he indicated for the other two to join him.
“It must have been shattered when the Or’tux were overthrown,” theorized Father Thomas. “Most likely some of the priests may have been hiding within that room and our people broke down the door to get to them, resulting in the shattering of the spider.”
“What is back there do you think?” asked Hunter.
Father Thomas shrugged. “I do not know,” he replied. “Only one way to find out.” Keeping the crystalline arachnid in hand, he stepped through the doorway and into a short hallway that curved sharply to the left after three feet. The other two followed close as he walked to, and then around, the corner.
There they discovered the hallway continued for only a few more feet before ending at a small room barely ten feet by fifteen. It was rather plain, whatever furnishings it may have once held were gone. Markings found on the floor gave the indication this had been someone’s living quarters. One set was shaped similar to a bed, while another could have been made by a chest of drawers. Two others could have been other furnishings like small tables or stands. The walls themselves were plainly formed, merely cut stone set one atop the other. No wall sconces, niches, or anything else to break the mundaneness of the room.
“Could this have been the high priest’s room?” asked Larus.
“Most likely,” agreed Father Thomas, “especially given its close proximity to the altar and statue in the other.”
Hunter was disappointed. Where was the treasure? Weren’t old temples of evil gods supposed to hold treasure for the bold adventurers to find? Apparently years spent watching television and reading books had been misleading. He wondered what Indiana Jones would do in a situation like this.
Larus saw the look of disappointment Hunter wore. “Everything of value they found was taken back to the Caves,” he explained. “I seriously doubt if we’ll find anything.”
Turning to Larus, he asked, “Then why did we come? If they took everything, then there is no reason to be here.”
In the face of that logic, Larus had no immediate response.
Hunter looked around the room for a moment before abruptly coming to a stop. “The other side!” he exclaimed.
“The other side of what?” questioned Larus.
Turning about, Hunter hollered as he made to leave the small room, “The other side of the spider! If by passing beneath one set of the spider’s legs you reached this room, then doesn’t it seem logical another room could be reached by doing the same thing on the other side?”
As Larus followed Hunter from the room, he quickly translated Hunter’s theory for Father Thomas.
Hunter had already passed through the doorway and was making his way beneath the arching legs of the spider when Father Thomas reached the doorway and hollered for him to stop. Emerging from beneath the legs, Hunter came to a stop before the spider.
“We must exercise the greatest amount of caution here,” the priest warned him. Drawing abreast of him, Father Thomas added quietly, “We are not alone here.” Larus translated.
Startled by the priest’s words, Hunter looked around the large altar room for others. “I don’t see anyone,” he said.
“Neither do I,” agreed the priest. “But nevertheless, there is something here which should not be awakened.” Pausing only a moment, he then added, “I feel it.”
“What is it that you feel?” questioned Larus.
“Just…a presence,” he replied. “I do not think it realizes we are here.”
“How do you know this?” Larus was beginning to look worried.
Giving the one-time Qyaendri a halfhearted grin, he said, “I just do.” Then he crossed in front of the spider to the walkway formed by the spider’s other four legs. And sure enough, there at the end was another door exactly like the one they found on the other side. Only this time the door had survived intact. All that was left of the crystal spider that had once adorned it was a vague impression left behind. The door stood ajar.
Indicating the vacant spot where a crystal spider had sat, Hunter asked, “Was that where our spider came from?”
Father Thomas brought their spider up and placed it against the door. It was a perfect match. Glancing back to Hunter he said, “Looks like it. But it could also be that there are dozens of these throughout the temple, all made exactly the same.” After handing the spider back to Larus, Father Thomas laid his hand against the door and pushed.
At the opening of the door, a most unpleasant odor came wafting out to envelope them. “Gah!” exclaimed Hunter as the smell assaulted his olfactory senses. Then through hands covering his nose and mouth he muffled, “What is that?”
With the collar of his robe pressed tightly over his face, Father Thomas turned back and shook his head silently. His reply was lost enroute through the thick material.
“I think we have found the source of Shank’s weed,” announced Larus. Though his nose was wrinkling from the stench, he refrained from covering it as the others had. “This smell is much more intense than what we experienced in his tent, but it is definitely the same.”
