Apostles of Doom

Arch-Diocate Iskerus woke with a start from a very unusual dream. Awake, he could not remember exactly what the dream had been about, other than that he had felt a far deeper and more intimate communion with his god than he had ever felt before. And yet, at the same time, his heart was racing in his chest as if he had experienced a massive adrenaline rush. It was not fear, however. It was more like exhilaration or excitement.

He shook his head; it was almost like an unthinkably powerful blessing spell. His ears suddenly detected quite a bit of commotion in the camp. It was the middle of night, yet the sound of the entire camp rising was filling his ears. He grimaced in puzzlement and pulled back the covers on his bed.

Getting out of bed, he quickly summoned a Globe of Holy Light and reached for his robe. He fastened it and made towards the door of his tent.

As he stepped outside, it was clear that much of the camp was up. Lights, both torches and Globes of Holy Light, were quickly coming on. He spotted one of his aides coming quickly towards him.

“Hewitt? What is going on?” The Arch-Diocate asked.

“I am not sure, Your Holiness; I have only talked with a few others,” Hewitt replied, hurrying up to him. “For myself, I was woken from my sleep feeling an overwhelming presence.” He frowned. “A presence that was at once comforting, yet frightening. It was clearly a religious experience, but unlike any I have ever had. I have overheard others saying the same.”

Iskerus shook his head in puzzlement. This was extremely odd. His blood drained from his head. Was an Intercession imminent? They had been expecting one, but it had not occurred, and as time had passed so had the concern.

Suddenly there was a commotion over by the tent which held Talarius’s possessions. His actual tent had been destroyed by Ruiden’s metamorphosis, so they had moved the rest of his equipment to a new tent. Iskerus moved over to it; the guards that were stationed there to guard Excrathadorus Mortis and the other possessions seemed to be frantically searching the area, going in and out of the tent.

“What is the matter?” Iskerus demanded as he came up to the guards.

“My lord!” One of the guards came to attention, looking very pale. Iskerus nodded for her to continue. “Excrathadorus Mortis is missing!”

“Missing?” Iskerus asked incredulously.

The guard looked quite shaken. “We were standing guard when suddenly, and without warning, we were overwhelmed—”

“Overwhelmed?” Iskerus asked.

The woman looked at a loss. “Yes, we all suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of — Presence. I have no other word for it. All four of us swooned, nearly falling in place. When we recovered, others in the camp were also rousing. I went in to check on the locked-glass top case with the dagger in it.” She paused as if lost.

“And…?” Iskerus prodded.

“The case was there, undisturbed, completely locked, with your personal seal intact — yet the dagger was missing from inside!”

Iskerus shook his head in disbelief. The box had been locked; only he had the key. He had also placed his own seal on it to detect tampering; he’d then shielded it with a Holy Warding. He would have known if the warding had been broken. He had felt nothing.

“Let me see,” Iskerus said, moving around the guard towards the tent.

Iskerus entered the tent to see the fine wooden case with the glass-paneled lid sitting where he had last left it. He used his Holy Sight to check the wards. As the guard had said, the wards were in place, in no way disturbed. His seal was unbroken. Yet the silk cloth upon which the blade had rested within the box was empty. The dagger was gone.

Iskerus used every detection ritual he could think of, but he could not detect the normally obvious magical presence of the Holy Artifact. He frowned and dispelled his wards. He then removed the chain around his neck with the key to the lock, and unlocked the box. He opened the lid, cracking the seal. It had been absolutely intact. This made no sense. He reached in and felt around the box, removing the cloth. The dagger was very clearly not there!

Arch-Diocate Iskerus exited the tent. He knew his face was pale and gray. His stomach was queasy. This was disturbing on so many levels that he was at a loss as to what to think.

“My lord?” Hewitt asked.

Iskerus realized everyone was looking at him. He shrugged. “It has indeed vanished from within its box. There is no sign of tampering with the box or the wards.” He glanced to the guards. “Search the entire camp. I doubt you will find anything, but we have to try.”

Iskerus started moving slowly back towards his tent.

“My lord? What next?” Hewitt asked.

“I need to pray,” the Arch-Diocate replied, shuffling along.

Tierhallon: DOA + 4, Early Second Period