The Chronicles of Bael

The Chronicles of Bael Part 26

Freezeday, Disorder Week, Storm Season, 1600

My Master has been slain. It has been two days since his death. At first, I could not believe what Salmar Bat was saying to me. My Master's body had been found in a guest room of a disreputable inn in the merchant's quarter. It made little sense. My Masters throat had been cut from ear to ear and all his possessions taken. The inn keeper had been of little use, saying only that he had rented the room in which my Master died to a pair of traders who had the appearance of worshippers of Etyries, the Lunar god of trade. He had never seen their faces clearly for they had always worn cowls.

Because the exact time of my Master's death was difficult to determine, Salmar Bat gathered up every priest in the Temple who had sacrificed for a Reconstruction spell, and then coordinated their castings to gain a vision of what had occurred at time of my Master's death. It was Jalbar the Gaunt whose Reconstruction spell fell upon the time of my Master's death.

Jalbar related a simple scene in which my Master was in heated conversation with a cowled figure. Jalbar could make little sense of the conversation, though the central subject appeared to be the location of some treasure or object of great value. The cowled figure was threatening my Master, demanding the location of this treasure. My Master in his turn was adamant that he would only lead the cowled figure to the treasure and would not reveal its location beforehand. Then, without warning a second cowled figure had stepped up behind my master and slit his throat. The two figures had then searched my master's body, removing many objects but did not appear to have found what they were looking for.

After Jalbar's Reconstruction we returned to the Temple as Yelm descended from the sky. As we walked through the cobbled streets of Furthest, Salmar Bat questioned me on the subject of my Master's most recent research. I could tell him nothing, for I knew nothing. I suggested that we should look through his notes, for my Master always kept copious notes on his research. When Salmar Bat and I came to my master's rooms we found the door unlocked and the rooms ransacked. Strangely, nothing of obvious value had been taken but neither a scrap of parchments nor any scroll that once festooned his rooms remained. Indeed, there was no evidence of any of my Master's writings. Whoever had broken into the Temple and entered my Master's rooms had one purpose, and that was to remove any of the notes he had taken in regard to his research.

Salmar was very unhappy that the Temple could be so easily breached and immediately ordered Kaldomar to have all the apprentices carry their arms, and maintain a proper watch of the gates and halls. Whoever had entered the Temple was a skilled thief, for day and night the Temple is filled with scholars busy upon their work. Salmar also ordered every Priest who had attended the inn earlier to proceed to the main shrine to sacrifice for another Reconstruction spell if they had the Power, intent upon discovering the identity or purpose of the robber.

As Salmar left my Master's rooms, I remained behind. There was one other place that my Master kept the results of his research, stored within his Truestone. To my great relief I found his Truestone in its usual hiding place behind a loose stone in the wall beside his bed, it had not been found by the intruder. But though I had found the Truestone I would not be able to extract its secrets, for only a priest of Lhankor Mhy possesses the secret of extracting knowledge from a Truestone. Nor could I seek such aid from Salmar Bat, or any other priest of the temple, for the knowledge contained in the Truestone would surely reveal my Masters tryst with Chaos, and likely my own.

Hidden behind the same loose stone was the small vial of Chaos Goo my Master had been so adamant that I consume. I reflected briefly that my refusal to imbibe the Chaos Goo had probably resulted in my Master's death, for had I done so, I would probably been at the inn that night bearing my trusty great sword in his defence. I quickly thrust the vial under my cloak, for should Salmar Bat order a thorough search of my Master's rooms the Chaos Goo would reveal too much.

It was then that I recalled the scroll by Tukar Thal that I had found for my Master. Perhaps he had returned this to the library, and it may contain some clue to my Master's studies and the cause of his murder. Unfortunately, my Master has never been one to concern himself with whatever system of categorization may be popular at a given time at any Temple he may be visiting. As a result, it has taken me two days to find the scroll, and little has it revealed to me. From reading the scroll, written in very old Sartarite, I have learned that Tukar Thal was a priest at the Jonstown Library not long after the Town was established by Sartar himself. Tukar Thal's writings are little more than a speculative history of the Ogre race that contends that Ogres were once a race of men corrupted by Chaos and cursed. Much of the scroll's content is dedicated to describing the mythical first King of the tribe of Ogres. I could discern nothing in its contents that would lead me to my Master's slayer.

Darkest night has descended, the Temple is silent and I am alone. I am truly alone for the first time in my life. My Master has been taken from me and I have but scant inkling of his murderer's identity. I would avenge my Master's murder, but I am but one, and I am weak, so much weaker than I thought. Perhaps my Master was right.