Sarlene's Touch Ch. 44

The robed figures were chanting, and, in the very centre of the room stood the censer that had been stolen from the villa, now filled with an incense that sent a vile scented red smoke up to the domed roof far above. There were other items there, too, knives, and bowls, the regalia of dark gods, a makeshift altar formed by pushing two small tables together. Nothing, though, she noted, that could explain the largest trunk.

"What do we do?" whispered Dolrim, behind her.

"I'm not sure," she said, honestly, a dreadful uncertainty beginning to rise in her chest. She wished Tarissa and the others were here.

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The ghoul scrabbled in the air, its claws inches from her face, then fell back off her blade, splashing into the warm water of the conduit. It thrashed there for a few moments, and then was still, its animating power gone, leaving only a thin exudate on her sword in lieu of blood.

"There's more coming!" called out Sir Larimor, his blade already raised, as she looked back down the underground passage. There were three of them, all zombies this time. All things considered, there had not seemed to be many of the things down here, perhaps because they were up above, but the sewers were far from empty.

This time, she raised the symbol of Pardror she bore about her neck, and called out "begone!"

She felt the holy energy flow through her, out towards the undead creatures. They balked, cringing at the end of the passage, where it crossed another, then turned, stumbling, unable to abide the presence of divine power. Almandar hurled a spell in their direction, taking one of them down to lie in a crumpled heap on the ledge, but the other two were already out of sight around the corner.

"We might need that spell later," she chided him.

"I know, but if they get out of here, there's innocent people up above."

She sighed, "I'm not blaming you. I'd probably have done the same."

"What is going on here?" asked Larimor, "you still haven't said."

"That's a fair question," she conceded. "We came across something, something demonic that's trapped down here. You said it had a name, Almandar?"

"Not a real name, no. The legend just calls it 'the Presence'."

"Well, whatever it is, it has been down here for centuries, and now it's waking, because somebody is summoning it."

"How did you find out about this?"

"We came across an old document. We thought we should check it out, since it's obviously a danger to the city."

"And this is when it rises again? After all these centuries? Isn't that a bit of a coincidence?"

She hadn't thought about that, but it was a good point. "Apparently," she said, after a thoughtful pause. "Although perhaps we can think about that later. At the moment we're looking for... actually, what did you learn, Almandar?"

"Down here, presumably on the other side of that barrier we found, is the remains of an old... temple, I suppose you could call it. The chamber in which somebody once tried to summon the Presence to this world. It's now trapped there, between its world and our own. When it breaks free, it can... well, it's a little vague, but I get the impression it can bring demons through into this world at will, and whoever summons it gets some kind of control over them. The city would be destroyed, or turned into a haunt of demons, if we don't stop it."

"But if we can stop it from down here, then the summoning won't work, and whoever is controlling it all -- perhaps this Amloth person -- won't be able to complete their ceremony. Which I am afraid, involves a sentient sacrifice. The last summoner used orcs, but I imagine the current one is more likely to sacrifice humans."

"So we have to stop it," Tarissa explained to Larimor, "tonight, because of... an eclipse, right?"

"That's when they have to do it, yes."

"You don't have to persuade me," agreed the other paladin, "but it's nice to know what I'm getting into. What about this barrier?"

"It's just down here," she said, and led them the last short distance.

Soon, it loomed in front of them, a thick impenetrable wall of sickly grey plants, hideous and unearthly, tendrils and thorns snapping about with malevolent hunger. Larimor grimaced.

"How do we get through that?" he asked.

"We have something that we didn't have last time we were here. And then... well, we're not sure exactly what's beyond. But hopefully, this old temple. Ready, Almandar?"

The half-elf nodded, and pulled a glass vial from his satchel, glimmering in the mage-light he was holding in his other hand. He raised it up as close to the vegetation as he dared, and removed the stopper.

There was a flash of brilliant light, stronger by far than that from his own spell. Glowing beams struck out in every direction, and where they touched the hideous plants, they withered, as if instantly burned, falling as dead char to the stone and water beneath.

And that was where it all started to go wrong.

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Zarenis was standing in one of the short side passages underneath the balcony, outside the main chamber of the Rotunda. The light from the braziers that the conspirators had set burning only barely extended here, keeping her in shadow, but she suspected that the Presence was also clouding their minds, discouraging them from looking in her direction. It had its reasons for that, as would hopefully soon become clear.

The cloaked figures were chanting, in a ring around the item she had stolen for them, other infernal paraphernalia with it, although it was the dark magic of the censer that truly helped give them power. What they did not have was the sceptre, which she held clutched in her own hand. Amloth and the others were not as fully in control of events as they thought, but it was all the Presence's design, and they would be rewarded for their part in events.

The chanting stopped, and Amloth's voice called out, "Bring her forth!"

Zarenis watched as two of the conspirators stepped away from the circle, heading to another alcove, where a large chest was waiting. They opened it and dragged a gagged and bound woman from inside. This, she assumed, had to be the sacrifice. Although the eclipse was still not here yet... they must be intending to do something else before the ceremony itself.

The woman, she saw, was dressed in the demure grey and white robes of a nun of the Sun God, a few strands of dark hair escaping from her askew wimple. She looked terrified, even as the robed figures cut her bonds and removed her gag, before dragging her towards the middle of their compatriot's ring.

One of the other conspirators stepped forward, a tall and powerful man, and, to Zarenis' surprise, pulled back his hood to look the frightened nun in the face.

"You recognise me?" he asked.

"F... Father Domand..." she said, "but... but..."

"Don't be afraid child. This all for the greater good. You do trust me, don't you?"

"I... I..."

"You have trusted me, but now you are a little confused. Understandable, I suppose. And it is the former trust that matters." The young nun whimpered, clearly not understanding what the man was saying. "I have a gift for you, my child. Perhaps it will make everything clear. Do you want to see it?"

She still said nothing, but Domand pulled aside his cloak anyway, revealing the robes of a Sun priest underneath, although, Zarenis noted, without the holy symbol that they normally wore. The cleric reached under his belt, as if about to pull something from his pocket.

"This is my present for you," he said, with a grin, as he pulled his erect penis out to face the nun's horrified gaze. "I don't suppose you've seen one before, but you're about to get very familiar with this one."

"No! No, no, no!" screamed the woman, tears in her eyes as she struggled futilely against the two robed men still holding her. "Please, no! Why are you doing this to me?"

"Who wants to see her naked?" cried out Domand to a chorus of agreement from the others. "Who wants to look at her sweet virgin pussy before I fuck her brains out?" Another rousing cheer greeted him, and he turned to the two men holding the captive. "Strip her!"

Zarenis stepped forward, eyes shifting to blood red, horns sprouting as the demonic blood boiled in her veins.

Simultaneously, four brilliant streaks of white light shot from the balcony over her head. They struck Domand in the chest and throat, and he staggered back, a look of horrified astonishment on his face as the magic spells penetrated his body. With a choking gasp, he collapsed to the floor, eyes rolling up in his head, large cock flopping limp.

A moment later there was an explosion, a brilliant blast of orange fire showering chunks of masonry into the room, toppling the brazier. Many of the conspirators screamed, and the nun, suddenly released, fell to the floor, cowering in terror. From where Zarenis was standing, momentarily frozen in surprise, she could see that at least four of the conspirators had been caught in the mysterious blast, and some of them weren't moving.

Something rolled onto the floor, tossed from the balcony up above. Dark smoke billowed forth, rapidly swelling to fill the room, obscuring everyone's vision. Some of the cloaked figures were panicking, running about in confusion, although she saw one running for a stairway that led upwards, a sword in his hand.

The Presence surged within her, telling her what she had to do. Zarenis took her chance, darting through the thick smoke that seemed to be so confusing the others, towards where the Presence told her Amloth was standing. She grabbed the startled drow, who looked at her in numb confusion.

"Follow me!" snapped the tiefling, "this doesn't stop us. There is another way to achieve our goal," she waved the sceptre in the drow's face, "and, if you follow me, we can still win, but only if you do it now, and leave the others to fight off whoever this is."

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Lady Tarissa had not given much thought as to how Almandar had acquired the druidic charm. There had seemed little reason to do so, after all. Druidic magic might be a little outside of her experience, but she had not expected it to be that much different from the powers of the priesthood.

Perhaps, most of the time, that was the case. But trust Almandar to find another way.

The glowing energy from the vial was doing more than burn away the monstrous foliage. As the beams of light struck the three of them standing before it, their bodies were infused with an ancient power of nature, one that she had not been expecting, and one of which her body had no practical experience.

Thoughts flashed through her mind as the heat rose in her loins. She had dreams sometimes, dreams that, as a virginal paladin, she could not admit to. They were formless, involving Larimor, at least as of late, yet lacking specifics. Partly, no doubt, because of her lack of genuine experience, but partly because she managed to put that part of her mind away during her waking hours. She had needs, as any woman did, but she could control them, dedicating herself to her divine mission ahead of mere carnal gratification.

Yet, while she could never tell anyone, the sensations that now flooded through her were not quite so unfamiliar as they should have been. There had been times... not many, but there had been some... times when she woke from a dream unsatisfied. Half asleep, she had found her hand slipping up under her nightdress, easing pleasure from her body. Often she had the presence of mind to pull herself back as she fully awoke, denying herself the release. But sometimes, sometimes she had surrendered, gripping the soft pillow with her other hand, pressing her lips to it to muffle the eventual sound of her cry. Then came the inevitable shame, the self-admonishment that she would not do such a thing again.

Her knees went weak, buckling beneath her as her sword fell from her hands. Dimly she was aware that Larimor had done the same, evidently just as overwhelmed as she. Tarissa's nipples were hard beneath her clothing, her loins moist as the hot desire rose within them. Then the sensation was gone, thankfully leaving her short of the humiliation of actual public climax, Even so, her body was weak, shaking as she tried to gather her senses.

She looked up, saw the passageway free ahead of them, the last scraps of plant life falling away. And down that passage something was rushing, with deadly intent, straight towards them. Both paladins were disarmed, near helpless, and Almandar's hands were too full to cast a spell.

She did not even have time to shout a warning before it struck.