Bel’s Journal, Desnus 15-16, 4722

Sunday, Desnus 15 (night)

We exited the maze into a bizarre, L-shaped hall with walls made from grey marble and a white, stone-tiled floor. Marble pillars ran down the center, each with veins of green that writhed and shifted as though they were alive. The walls had circular bulges at irregular intervals, and as we studied them with magic they opened up, revealing human eyes that followed our progress through the room. There was very little doubt that we were being spied on. Like, zero doubt. Zero is little.

We didn’t want to be spied on, and the whole effect was rather creepy anyway, so we returned to the maze and found another passage out, this one leading into a storeroom. Much like the Zon-Kuthon wing, there were barrels of water and boxes of rations stacked neatly inside. There was also little doubt that these, too, came from Balabar Smenk. Like, zero doubt. See above.

From there we found what appeared to be living quarters, and they were adjacent to an even more bizarre hall with walls made from a strange, green rock that had purple veins writing inside them. Sort of an inverse of the creepy hall with the eye, only it had six pillars along the walls, black this time, with a tar-like appearance.

It also had three fanatical acolytes and a strange shadow creature that babbled constantly, and incoherently, to the point where Viore, Sera, and Snagsby were overcome. It was a bad start. Sera was hit by a spell that left her further debilitated, and was in danger of being overwhelmed, so I grabbed her and literally pulled her back and out of the way. The whole fight just seemed terribly lopsided at this point, so I asked Viktor to enlarge me with the wand. And then Zhog and I entered the fray. The shadow fell first, and the acolytes shortly after.

We actually captured the third instead of killing them and tried to get information from them, but they were so deep into raving lunatic territory that it ultimately wasn’t worth the effort. All we got from them is what we already knew: the last room contained the Faceless One.

Remember how I said I don’t like to chat during a fight? Well, the Faceless One did. He literally would not shut up, even while we were laying the smackdown. It was all “Every action you take is advancing my plans!”, “You only hasten his arrival!” and “My victory is inevitable!” Stars, man, just accept defeat in peace. Please.

I ended up knocking him unconscious with my sap because we’re going to need better proof of what had gone on down here than a bunch of dead bodies. A fanatical true believer with a propensity for running off at the mouth solves that problem nicely.

Distressingly, the various bits about the so-called “Ebon Aspect” did turn out to be true (including, I suppose, the Faceless One’s prognostications, such as, “Your fate will be sealed by your own actions!”). A large humanoid grotesquerie with six arms and a nasty disposition had risen from the pool, and was busy smashing the elevator in anger as we were preparing to leave.

It was a difficult fight. I was the first one to engage it so I bore the brunt of its attacks, and got beaten severely—to within inches of my life!—before the others could engage. That bought me time to heal. Viktor used the wand to enlarge Zhog and Sera, and once they had it flanked (and once I was not on death’s door) he enlarged me too. With the three of us working in tandem, and Abadar imbuing my blows with divine power, we were able to bring it down.

I took the liberty of cutting off its head, thinking, If the Faceless One’s insufferable ramblings don’t do enough to sway people, maybe this thing will.

As for the Faceless one, I don’t know what to make of him. Albino, with a featureless face save for a small, sharp nose, he seems more like something from Lamashtu’s playground but for whatever reason he threw in with Urgathoa. I am sure there’s a story there but I honestly don’t care enough to ask.

We decided to spend one more night down here, or at least stay until midnight when Snagsby can pray for spells. A little magic is all that was needed to repair the elevator, so we’ll be able to use it to get back up top.

The Faceless One came to not long ago. Of course, we can’t have that, so I knocked him unconscious again. But not before showing him the head of the Ebon Aspect so he could see just how thoroughly he’d failed. I didn’t say anything. Just showed it to him, and let the image sink in.

Moonday, Desnus 16 (small hours)

We left the mine just after the shift change at midnight. We knew we wouldn’t be able to make it all the way out without being stopped by the guards, so we were ready when six of them hurried to block our exit with swords drawn.

“Who are you?” one of them demanded. “You’re not miners!”

I dropped the sacks I was carrying, and pulled out the head of the Ebon Aspect. Next to me, Sera unceremoniously dumped the body of the Faceless One on the ground.

“We’re here,” I began, “because we uncovered a death cult operating under your mine. We are taking these to the garrison, and we need you to get out of our way.”

All but one of the guards looked uncertain about how to handle this. That sixth one, though, gave me a look that suggested he knew what was going on. So I walked over to him, and said, “So you’re aware that there was an elevator built in your mine that leads down to the death cult. And you’re aware that people have been coming and going. And you know what we’re doing. So get out of our way, or you’re going to become an accessory.”

“You’ve been down there?” he asked.

“Do you think that we took these things down into the mine, and then brought them back up again, all to make an elaborate show?”

“What of the Citadel of Zon-Kuthon?”

Oh, dear.

“There is nobody left in the Citadel of Zon Kuthon, just as there’s nobody left in the Caverns of Lamashtu, or the Maze of Urgathoa.” I was careful to pronounce the capitalization.

“And…Theldrick?”

“There. Is. Nobody. Left.”

And he bolted. I ran after him and tried to grab him but missed. He stopped abruptly, pulled out a dagger, and stabbed me with it. Viore responded by casting a spell that held him where he stood, unable to move. Crisis averted. We tied him up before the spell wore off, and dragged the whole lot off to the Garrison (there was just no way I was going to trust Sheriff Cubbins with this). The guards at the mine just kinda watched us go. I guess they lost their appetite for a confrontation.

It took a little explaining, and more than a little fast-talking, to convince the duty sergeant that this wasn’t just some religious dispute, but actual necromantic activities taking place under the town. Once we got the whole story out, he promised a full investigation…including Smenk’s and Dourtsone’s roles as conspirators. In just three days, we managed to take down the two most powerful and corrupt mine owners in Diamond Lake.

I’ve been dreaming of doing something like this for several years.