Chapter 10 - The Ambush And The Chapel

Vim’s mind was still far away in the fog of reminiscence when they turned off the main road and headed west.  The surface here was still paved, but the road itself narrower and the forest closer.   It suddenly became much cooler as the tall trees blocked out the sun.  

 

They rounded a curve and Jahnas’ trike, which had pulled out ahead slightly, began to slow, shaking Vim out of his memories.  A second later he saw what Jahnas was reacting to.  There was a tree down across the road, its three-foot diameter trunk making it impossible to go over and its length making it impossible to go around.  

 

A loud cracking sound from behind told Vim that they were in trouble.  He looked at his rearview mirror to see Modi and Paloma riding side by side and also slowing, and another large tree falling across the road behind them.

 

They were hemmed in with little room to maneuver.

 

Three figures emerged from behind the first tree, each climbing onto its trunk.

 

“That’s the elf who killed Sam,” Gnomey snarled through grit teeth.  He brought his feet underneath him and was now squatting in the sidecar.

 

Everyone in the party immediately recognized the group they faced off with at the Logjam Tavern the day before.  In front of them were the elf sorcerer as well as what appeared to be a gnome monk and a tiger-like tabaxi druid.  To their rear were the human fighter who Simone referred to as Vlad and a triton cleric, both levelling heavy crossbows at them.

 

“Hey guys,” Vim shouted over the whine of his downshifting engine, standing up on the pegs of the trike.  “What’s…”

 

Before Vim could finish his question the attack began.  An orb of chromatic energy flew forth from the sorcerer, and only Modi’s quick reflexes spared him from being incinerated as it put a small crater in the road just to the left of his trike.  Vim dodged a rock from the druid’s sling, the sidecar wheel coming off the ground as he pulled the trike hard to the right.  Behind him a pair of crossbow bolts missed Modi and Paloma.  Somehow the ambushers had completely failed to take advantage of the element of surprise.

 

“The elf is mine,” Sam shouted, leaping out of the still moving sidecar, much to Vim’s surprise.  The bard was even more shocked as the gnome transformed into a black panther while airborne, landing gracefully on the ground in full stride.  The sorcerer’s eyes grew wide and he leapt off the fallen tree and dashed into the forest, Gnomey in pursuit.  

 

Jahnas jumped off his still-moving trike, just as he had when they fought the goblins at the Underwood farm.  His timing was off, though, and instead of landing on top of the tree he hit the front of it with his feet.  As he pushed off he was still able to swing a leg around and land a solid kick on the tabaxi.  Vim arrived on foot at roughly the same time, but the gnome monk nimbly jumped over the swipe of the bard’s sword.

 

On the other side of the battle Paloma and Modi skidded their trikes to stops.  Paloma could tell that the bladesong magic was flowing through Modi, the wizard’s movements becoming both faster and more fluid as he rushed toward Vlad, who had dropped his crossbow and was now charging and wielding a two-handed sword.  She grinned as she watched the elf sidestepped a lunge that left Vlad overextended before landing a pair of deft slashes of his own.  Turning toward the onrushing, warhammer-wielding cleric the sorceress lashed out with a whip of aurora energy that struck with a sizzling sound.  The cleric staggered, a black angry scorch across his torso, but he continued his charge.

 

The druid drew a wand from her belt and four magic missiles streaked from it, one striking each of the party members.  Jahnas shook off the blow and landed one of his own in response, a punch to the midsection that doubled over the cat and brought her head low enough that he could grab it with both hands.  After quick twisting motion the druid fell forward limply.   At the same time Vim dispatched the gnome monk with his sword.

 

The pair turned to see how their friends were faring just in time to see Modi land a fatal thrust into Vlad’s heart with his short sword.  Meanwhile Paloma had climbed into a tree to escape the triton cleric, who shouted and waved his warhammer at her from below.  Even Vim could tell that was a bad idea, his observation confirmed as the cleric was electrocuted by a ball of lightning thrown by the sorceress from her perch.

 

“Where is Gnomey?”  Modi asked, his head darting from side to side rapidly.

 

The sound of an engine firing up caused them to all turn toward the tree that initially blocked their path.  On the other side a trike bounced out of the trees and onto the road.  Driving it was the elf sorcerer.  But it was what was tied to the back that caught their attention and drew their ire.

 

“Gnomey!”  Vim shouted, climbing onto the fallen tree.  Apparently their gnome friend had been incapacitated.  The sorcerer gave them an obscene hand gesture as he drove away.

 

“I’ll create a path for us,” Paloma said, striding toward the tree.  “It’ll probably take a minute or two, so that’s how long you have to search the bodies and get ready to ride.”  With that she began using magic to remove earth from under a portion of the tree.

 

Jahnas took the wand of magic missiles from the fallen druid and shoved it into his waistband, while Modi recognized the bracers worn by the gnome monk as being magical.  He would give those to Paloma later.  While her reflexes truly were cat-like, the sorceress wore no armor and the small bracers would not interfere with her spellcasting.  

 

The most disturbing discovery was that all four bodies wore medallions similar to those they took from the dead hobgoblins the day prior.  “I don’t like this.  Not one bit,” Vim said, biting his lower lip as he shook his head.

 

True to her word, within two minutes Paloma had created a sloping path that would take them under the tree and then back onto the road on the other side.  “Best to leave the trees here,” she said.  “The one behind us will protect our backs, at least for a bit.”  

 

“We must find Gnomey,” Modi said insistently.  There was a focus in the wizard’s eyes the likes of which Paloma hadn’t seen before, and she found it unsettling.  

 

“I agree, Modi,” she replied.  “But the elf has a head start on us.  The only lead we have at this point is the chapel.  Given how these folks tried to keep us from talking to Sam and learning of its location, and that they ambushed us on our way to it, the chapel seems like the logical place to look.”

 

Jahnas nodded.  Vim just looked relieved that someone else was making the decision.  Modi thought for a few seconds longer.  “I agree.  We will go to the chapel, and we will get Gnomey.”

 

They had to duck as they passed below the tree, but after that they were on the road, throttles pegged as they raced toward the chapel.  The final turnoff was only a couple of minutes up the road and they took the right turn hard, kicking up clouds of dust.  The ground was dry so there were no fresh tracks.  It was impossible to tell if another trike had passed recently.

 

The chapel grounds appeared on their right.  A three-foot high stacked-stone wall enclosed a clearing in the forest. Roughly 200 feet from the wrought iron gate attached to the wall was the chapel itself.  It was a simple stone building.  The side facing them looked to be about 40 feet wide, and the building extended back another 80 or so feet.  Given the height of the peaked roof it was difficult to tell if the interior would be two levels or only one with a high ceiling.  Sitting atop the back half of the building was a squat circular tower, its width matching that of the building as it rose another 15 feet above the roofline.  There were no windows visible along the tower wall and it was topped by a conical roof.

 

They opened the gate and slowly rode into the grounds.  Between the gate and the chapel stood a statute, its base a sturdy white marble block four feet tall and a dozen more wide.  Two smooth humanoid figures rose from the pedestal.  The one to the left was lower, only the top half of its torso and head emerging from the block.  Its left arm and hand reached up to the right toward the second figure.  That figure was show in full, appearing as if some force were pulling it backwards and away from its partner to the left.  It wore a hood over its head and was wrapped in chains.  Its right hand reached down toward the other, the hands separated by only inches.  The humanoids were completely featureless, their faces smooth.  Each side of the statue was flanked by a 30-foot tall tree.

 

Stopping their trikes in front of the statue they could now read the writing on its base as they dismounted.  It was the same sentence written in the languages of the six major races.

 

We remember those who gave their freedom for ours.

 

The doors to the church opened and a human man emerged.  He wore green priestly robes that were of high quality though looked a little worse for wear.  The man was of average height but rail thin, his eyes as sunken as his cheeks. 

 

“Hello travelers.  Welcome to the Chapel of the Taken.  My name is Seth.  What brings you here?”  Despite his somewhat withered appearance, the priest’s voice was still strong and authoritative.

 

Paloma allowed Seth to approach, but just as she opened her mouth to speak Vim strode past her.  “Good day there.  Seth, is it?”  As was often the case, when Vim tried to act natural he actually came across as if he was an actor on stage, his voice louder than appropriate, his words over-enunciated.   “My friends here and I are touring the churches of the region.  A bit of a hobby of ours, you see.”  The bard flashed his winning smile.  

 

Seth looked slightly relieved at this introduction, but that quickly changed as Modi strode up purposefully to stand next to Vim, his arms crossed across his chest.  “Where is Gnomey, Seth.”  It was both a question and a statement, another of Modi’s quirks that made people very uncomfortable.

 

Seth’s eyes squinted slightly.  “I’m sorry, sir elf.  But who or what is a Gnomey.”

 

“Eh, forgive my friend Modi here, Seth.  Bit of a one-track mind I’m afraid, always saying confusing things.”  Vim turned to Modi and whispered harshly.  “Modi, we’ve talked about this before.  Be polite to the nice priest.”

 

“Gnomey is, as you should be able to tell from the name, a gnome, Seth.  He was kidnapped by an elf sorcerer on a trike and we believe he was taken here.  We are here to rescue him,” Modi said flatly, but with some urgency.

 

Paloma looked at Jahnas and shook her head.  The triton just shrugged, then began methodically cracking his knuckles one at a time.

 

Vim exhaled, looking down at his feet and nudging a pebble with the toe of his boot.  He looked back up as he reached into his cloak and withdrew one of the medallions they had taken from their ambushers.  “Ever seen one of these before, Seth?”

 

A pained expression came over the priest’s face.  He closed his eyes tightly, his jaw clenching and showing the tense muscles of his face.  Vim took a slow step backwards, though Modi remained where he stood.  

 

“Be careful,” Seth whispered through grit teeth.

 

Seth’s expression then changed dramatically.  “The church is closed.  You should go.  Now.”  Vim took another step backwards and looked like he might turn back to his trike.  Seth spun on his heel and headed back toward the church.  “There is nothing for you to see here.”

 

Modi began to follow the priest.  “Where is Gnomey, Seth?”  He repeated the phrase again and again.

 

Paloma and Jahnas stepped around Vim and began to follow.  After a few steps Paloma turned back to see if Vim was coming as well, but the bard was… nowhere to be seen.  She felt the tang of magic in the air and noticed the tall grass along the corner of the chapel flowing as if something or someone was moving through it.  So, he can turn invisible, she thought to herself.  Interesting.  

 

Vim quietly and invisibly made his way along the left side of the chapel.  There were four windows, so he could watch as Seth entered the worship hall and walked up the center aisle.  Modi entered behind him but was not trying to keep pace, allowing the priest to put more distance between them as Seth approached the stage at the far side of the room.  He saw Jahnas and Paloma emerge as well, though they both stayed near the door.  

 

Vim looked to the raised stage, but didn’t see anyone or anything else there.  He turned and ran back toward the front entrance, shedding his magical invisibility as he went.  Entering the church he moved quickly through the front hall, noting that there were small rooms to the left and right that might warrant further examination.  He continued through the double doors and into the main chapel.

 

The room took up most of the building.  There was no second floor – the ceiling was high and peaked, just like the roof.  Six pairs of benches sat along either side of a central aisle leading to the stage.  Upon the stage stood a pulpit and a wrought iron spiral staircase that led both up into the tower as well as down into, well, into something Vim suspected would be unpleasant and creepy.  

 

Seth climbed the two steps onto the stage.  Modi stopped walking and stood in the middle of the room.  Vim and Jahnas walked up the aisle behind the wizard, and it dawned on Vim that he hadn’t seen Paloma in the room.

 

Crouched upon a wood ceiling joist in the back corner of the room, Paloma watched the drama unfold below her.  

 

A voice came from the shadows off to one corner of the stage.  “You weren’t supposed to let them in, old man.”  The elf sorcerer stepped into view, a smile on his face, his fingers tapping against the handle of one of the daggers he wore on his belt.

 

“I don’t take my orders from you, Endelwin,” Seth muttered.

 

“Where is Gnomey?” Modi asked the elf.  Hidden in the rafters, Paloma raised an eyebrow at the elf’s newfound forcefulness.

 

Endelwin gave an exaggerated sigh.  “Well, since you’re here I suppose we should arrange for a proper welcome.”  He walked to the spiral stairs, looked down, and shouted.  “They’re inside!”  He then leaned up against the pulpit and smirked.  He pulled a thin ivory pipe from his cloak and lit it with a small flame conjured from his fingertip.

 

Vim and Jahnas advanced toward the stage while Modi walked between two benches toward the left wall.  The bard and monk were a few feet from the steps when the creature emerged from the basement.

 

They saw the head first as it walked up the spiral staircase, green and scaled like that of a lizard and with a knot of twisting tendrils covering what they assumed was its mouth.  What stepped out of the staircase was humanoid in appearance, about the height of a human man but a bit leaner.  The lizard-like scales covered its entire body.  It walked upright on two legs and in one hand it held a six-foot tall, two-pronged metal spear, both tips ending in nasty barbed hooks.  Vim and Jahnas stopped as it regarded them.

 

“I told you the old man was a hindrance,” Endelwin said, stifling a yawn and drawing from his pipe.  “You gave him one simple task, and he failed.”

 

“No,” the creature said, its voice slippery as it spoke in heavily accented common.  “It is you who failed, Endelwin.  You and your incompetent friends.  Had you done your job they would all be dead.”

 

Endelwin pushed himself off the pulpit, stood upright, and coughed.  “Well that seems a bit harsh,” he began.  His excuse, however, was cut off as the creature spit a cloud of green mist at him.

 

The elf threw his hands over his face as he screamed in agony as he fell to his knees.  “I’m blind!”

 

The creature stepped toward the elf and unceremoniously skewered him with the spear.  Endelwin’s scream turned into a gurgle as his lungs filled with blood.  The creature yanked the barbed tips out of the elf’s chest with a sickening suction sound, and Endelwin fell forward onto the stage, a pool of blood rapidly forming around him, smoke still drifting up from the pipe in his hand.

 

“Whoa,” Vim whispered as he tried to draw his sword as quietly as possible.  Jahnas made no attempts at subtlety, drawing his short sword in a flash.  

 

The green creature turned to them, blood dripping from the spears tips.  Then it looked up high, above their heads, and shouted, “Feeding time!” before throwing the spear at Seth, the impact driving the priest backwards and off the stage.  Glowing blades of translucent blue energy grew from its hands.

 

Out of the corner of her eye Paloma saw Modi running towards the back of the chapel, which was confusing as she’d never seen the elf shy away from a fight.  He looked up as he ran, making eye contact with her in a way that creeped her out, even from this distance.  But that disturbing sensation also caused her to instinctively look over her shoulder, which gave her just a split second to react to the long, gray tentacles that attempted to envelop her.

 

Paloma leapt backwards into open space, a gust of magical wind swirling about her as a ball of green energy flew forth from her paw and struck her attacker.  The barbed hooks on it’s tentacles tore at her clothing and into her flesh, but the chromatic orb struck hard enough to prevent it from wrapping her up in what surely would have been a death embrace.

 

As she flew backwards she had the opportunity to regard it.  The thing looked like a huge gray brain, roughly three feet in diameter.  Centered on the mass was a long, sharp beak, and dangling below it were spiked eight-foot-long tentacles.  It continued to float silently toward her, it’s tentacles hoping to grab her and pull her in.

 

While she was indeed as graceful as a cat, even cats prefer not to jump blindly backwards will being attacked by some kind of beaked floating brain, so while Paloma’s legs found the next ceiling joist over, she landed off kilter and had to use her arms to maintain her balance and to keep from falling to the floor.  That also meant her hands weren’t available for spellcasting, and as she looked at the thing approaching her mind desperately sought some kind of option.  She wondered if perhaps falling into the benches below as the lesser of two evils.  

 

A flash of white entered Paloma’s vision from the right and struck the thing, covering it in a mass of thick, sticky webbing.  It could still move in its hovering fashion, but its beak was glued shut and it’s tentacles stuck together.  Looking down and to her right she saw Modi, his right hand holding a short sword down by his side while his left was raised, the palm pointed toward the thing.  Impressive, she thought.

 

As the thing struggled to break free from the gooey mess, Paloma regained her balance and with a fanged grin called forth even more of her power, blasting it with another ball of glowing green energy that not only burst a portion of its brain-like head but also set the webbing aflame.  The burning mass slowly drifted toward the floor without a sound, it’s tentacles hanging limply below it.

 

Paloma turned to Modi and gave him a nod of thanks, and both turned back to the front of the room to see how Vim and Jahnas were faring.  A pair of hobgoblins had joined the fight.  Paloma wasn’t sure if they’d come from upstairs or downstairs, but that didn’t really matter right now because her friends were having a tough time with the lizard creature and it’s glowing blades.  There was something about those blades, though.  Paloma would be able to feel it if they were generated by magic, but they weren’t.  Could they be… she thought.  No…

 

A blow from one of the glowing blades sent sparks flying from Vim’s shield and brought Paloma back to the present.  She fired two blasts of Eldritch energy at the hobgoblins, wrapping them both in burning cages of electrical discharge before they fell to the floor, smoldering wrecks.  That gave the others a three-on-one advantage against the lizard creature, one they promptly exploited as they attacked from more angles than it could defend.  That’s not to say it gave up, as its spectral blades still found their marks, but after another 20 seconds it was all over. 

 

Vim was hunched over, hands on his knees as blood dripped off the tip of his nose onto the floor.  He and Jahnas had both taken a number of wounds in the battle, some open and bleeding and others looking as if they had been cauterized by the thing’s weapons.  The monk leaned backward, his back arched as he tried to center himself.  Paloma hopped from joist to joist until she was above the stage.

 

“Gnomey, where are you?”  Modi walked onto the stage toward the stairs.  He looked down to the basement below.  “Gnomey, we are coming for you!”

 

“A minute, Modi, if you please” Vim panted, pulling a potion from his belt.  “Me and Johnny took a bit of a beating there while you and cat lady,” he pointed upwards, “were busy with your high wire act.”  

 

“My name is Jahnas, Vim,” the monk said, rolling his neck back and forth.  “Don’t ever call me Johnny.  Not ever.”

 

“I’m standing here bleeding on the floor, and meanwhile this one,” Vim pointed at Modi, “wants to charge into Thor-knows-what and this one,” he jerked a thumb at Jahnas, “ apparently doesn’t appreciate the bond that comes from nicknames.”  It was hard to tell if his exasperation was feigned or real.

 

“Call me cat lady again and I’ll kill you in your sleep,” purred a voice from above the bard.  

 

Vim, Jahnas, and Paloma all began to laugh, but the levity was short-lived, as the three of them stopped almost in unison as a voice entered their heads.

 

I see you have killed my servants.  Well, that is only proper.  They were weaker than you.  Why don’t you come downstairs, and perhaps we can make an arrangement that you will find quite lucrative.  The voice had a bit of a lisp to it, and the ‘s’ sounds at the ends of words lasted for seconds.

 

“What the hell was that!?” Vim shouted, holding his hands over his ears and looking around the room in a near panic.  “Tell me I wasn’t the only one who heard that!”

 

Jahnas’ brow furrowed.  “I heard the voice as well, Vim.”

 

“Didn’t sound friendly,” Paloma chimed in from above.

 

The all turned to Modi.  “I heard no voice.  I know not of what you speak.  I only know that we must find Gnomey.”  With that he turned and headed down the stairs.

 

“Shit,” Vim muttered as he stepped up onto the stage and walked towards the stairs, drinking a healing potion as he went.

 

“I’ll watch your backs,” Paloma called.  “Vim, I’ll stay connected to you via magic so we can speak to one another.” The bard nodded as he walked down the stairs, the triton following.

 

The room at the bottom of the stairs was a bit less than half the size of the chapel’s footprint.  A fireplace along what was the building’s back wall still burned.  Four bunks lined the walls, each with a chest at its foot.  A wood table with four chairs sat alongside another wall, while a second table was piled high with books, scrolls, and maps.  A large map of the region surrounding Forrestvale hung on the wall, some individual farmsteads marked with red X’s, while smaller blue X’s dotted the area, including some within the city itself.  In one corner was a pile of assorted weapons and armor.

 

Two closed wood doors were set into the walls, one to the north and another to the west.  Based on the size of the room, the north wall was part of the foundation, so whatever lay beyond that door would be outside the footprint of the building.  The west door, however, would lead to something that was still below the chapel. 

 

When Vim and Jahnas reached the bottom of the stairs Modi was already moving toward the west door.  “Gnomey!  Are you in there!”  

 

A bed slid across the floor to a spot in front of the door.  Modi turned, a confused look on his face.  “Which of you did that?  And how?  I do not feel any magic.”

 

Vim walked forward.  “Listen Modi, we all want to find Gnomey.  But we have to be smart about this.”

 

“Vim, you moved the bed.”

 

“Yes, yes I moved the bed.  That’s what I’m trying to say.  Remember that thing that Gnomey did with his mind when he made that goblin’s head blow up,” Vim asked, using his hands to simulate his head exploding.  “Well, I can do that too.  I don’t know how I do it, but I’ve always been able to.”

 

“I can do it too, Vim,” Jahnas said.  

 

Vim turned, startled.  “What??  Are you serious right now?”  Vim thought for a moment.  “You’re always serious, I guess.  Wow!”  

 

“I can do it as well,” a female voice shouted from somewhere up the stairs.

 

“Wait, what?  What??  This is absolutely crazy!”  Vim began pacing back and forth rapidly for a few seconds before stopping to face Modi.  “Didn’t you hear the voice, Modi?  The voice in your head?”

 

“No Vim, I heard no voice.  What did it say?”

 

It said come inside and let us discuss business, the voice echoed in their minds.

 

Vim began wildly gesticulating, pointing at the west door, his head, then at the ceiling.  “That voice!   You must have heard it that time!”

 

“I heard no voice, Vim.  Now, we must go through this door and find Gnomey.”  Modi pulled the cot back from in front of the door.

 

Indeed you must.