From the Chronicles of Anankis Miri
Inside the cave
We enter in the left passage, the ceiling is about 10 feet high, and eight men await just ahead: a couple of guards and six cultists with blue dresses attacking us when we reach the room.
On the right I see some people, guards of the cult, running away; the battle is very rapid, thanks to the essential help of Zeed in spider form, and the last cultist tries a final, desperate attack with a choke scream: “YOU’LL DIE!”. I kill him with a strong beam of energy, his blood soils the floor and I can clearly see his astonish expression when he falls down.
I understand one thing: after the encounter with my patron I can control my fury a bit better, my body still covers with shiny burns but I’m able to control more my actions, even if the rage fills my mind and, more important, my powers returned to me.
No, he returned them to me.
Why? Is my patron controlling my mind and my body? Can he does such a thing?
“Search the room!” Said Shill, starting to look around herself, and interrupting my thoughts.
The room is a dormitory, without any particular detail; on the ground the guards have swords with adornment related to dragons and Tiamat.
After a short inspection we proceed, running in the direction where the guards went and we reach a new room, illuminated by two oil lamps.
Here a writing desk, a couple of small tables, a lot of books and a long, elegant mirror; on the ground a pelt carpet, probably bear fur, covers most of the floor and, in the bottom of the room, a hook hangs from the ceiling and a rope is tied to the hook.
In front of us four guards armed with swords, behind them a woman, Frulam Mondat, with a chainmail, purple-red clothes and armed with a long halberd.
When Geralt sees the woman he starts to grind his teeth with rage: I can clearly see his eyes blaze with hate and resentment while he grasps his hands around the bow.
All of a sudden Frulam whispers something and a halberd made of energy appears, instantly hitting the spider Zeed on the ceiling, then she invokes Tiamat: her eyes becomes black and thousand intangible, infernal creatures leave her orbits and start to whirl furiously around her.
Shill gets close to the guards and the creatures start to enter in Shill’s body, stinging her flesh.
When I see this my blood bursts of rage and my fury kills a guard instantly.
After a strong hit by one guard Zeed returns to his normal form but he’s able to grab the ceiling and then, gently glide to the ground.
Shill is in evident difficulty: a guard lowers his long sword on the Tyr‘s Paladin and she falls down, unconscious.
When I see this I get close to the guards, trying to help Shill and Zeed, but the magic halberd hits me; simultaneously Geralt appears near Frulam, he’s able to move in the shadows like a ghost, and hits her with a short sword: the woman teeters and the diabolic creatures vanish in thin air but the halberd damages me again with a strong downward blow.
Frulam moves away after another strike, she grabs the rope tied to the hook and falls in a trapdoor that opens all of a sudden and we’re able to kill the remaining, still alive, guards.
Geralt tries to follow the woman but Elora and Shill stop the man and his attempt to throw himself down throughout the hole.
Meanwhile I observe the room: on the right an alcove made of natural stone; spread papers and documents on a desk and, looking closely, I notice a map where the Greenfields area is drawn and various villages are shown. A big painted arrow starts from the Greenfields, goes along the Coast Way, and arrives to Beregost where the arrow turns toward north.
In another sheet of paper a lot of columns of numbers and notes, one of them recites: “Everything must be carried North, up to Naerytar. Rezmir allows us to keep some pearls, one ring, a fistful of precious stones.”
There are other documents but they’re not interesting or important for us, a lot of them are poems and odes in dragons’ honor.
Moreover there’s a bed, a chest full of feminine clothes and another trunk with a purple-red ceremonial dress of the cult.
A strong noise attracts my attention: Geralt, in the grip of the hate, wrecks a chair, throwing it against the stone wall.
I pick up the most important documents before Geralt’s fury arrives here and I prepare myself for the next step.
The wonderful stories of Anankis Miri and her companions can be also read in the repository of RPG Tales, Scrolls Abound! Enjoy