Episode #11: Riddles, Allies, and Enemies

Diary of Gregorius Half-Orc the Cenobite

Second Day on the Isle

The sphinx told us the first riddle had been answered, and then asked us the second when we were ready.

"I have no sword, I have no spear

Yet I rule a horde that many fear.

My soldiers fight with wicked sting;

I rule with might, yet am no king.

What am I?"

“A queen bee," Penitent said.

I’m not a learned man, but I know a bad riddle when I hear one. The sphinx asked if we were ready for the second riddle. I thought it plain unfair that we be made to answer one riddle after the next with no chance to ask one back, and said as much. The voice made to continue, and I said, “No, first you answer me.” “What” I stuck my left hand into my pocket, “have I got in my pocket?”

It paid me no mind and asked the third riddle. It was no better than the last.

"You can find it on a human, or a halfling, or a gnome.

You can find it in a glass of beer, with frothy, sudsy foam.

You can find it in a cabbage patch, growing in the loam.

What is it?"

“A head,” Edrathior decided.

The sphinx fell silent after confirming that the third riddle had been solved. We wondered if that was it. The riddles had been easy—almost too easy, we thought. Penitence and Bartholomew approached the stairwell, suspicious as always. The cultist on the floor had lost his head trying to descend, but we knew not how. They looked close, and found a crack between the flagstones of the third step. Bartholomew said it was just the kind out of which a sprung blade might swing. Apparently not satisfied with this, Penitence kicked the dead cultist's body down the stairs. As far as we could tell, nothing more happened to him.

One by one we descended, each stepping gingerly that suspicious step. Sprightly Ecaris hurdled over the step and fell down to the ground and his armor rattled around him. Finally I stepped under the sphinx, stopped for a moment, and looked up at her. She never did answer my riddle, so without further ado I took the answer out of my pocket and with it I gave her a short sharp rap on the chin.

At the bottom of the stair, we entered a chamber about ankle deep in water. A single corridor stretched out into the dark, and the water ran thither. Vines grew up the walls. On the wall directly above the entrance was a stone panel, looking something like a door and something like a tombstone. Upon it was carved the image of a four-armed ape, accompanied by Elvish script. Edrathior told us they read Cuacatl, Guardian of the King, or words to that effect.

I surmised Cuacatl was the creature’s name. I climbed up to the panel briefly, to see if the panel were a door that might somehow be opened, either by us or some other power. As far as I could tell, it was solid with neither crack nor hinge. We decided to continue down the corridor, but before we could, the imp-thing woke with an ear-splitting shriek. I was able to subdue him, but not before anyone waiting ahead would have heard him. We considered briefly whether he had alerted his master to our presence here, but quickly decided it made no difference and continued on.

We finally emerged into a wide-open chamber. The chamber ended at a chasm, into which the water poured. Across the chasm I could see a high ledge, and several tunnel entrances beyond it. This was not what concerned me, though. In the center of the chamber, atop a stone plinth, encased in a massive block lapis lazuli, was a tall woman of regal, but powerfully savage bearing. Her upper body was encased in an exotic, sleeveless armor like the carapace of a beetle, her arms and neck crawling with runic tattoos. Her lower half, frozen in the blue rock, was that of a leonine beast. Her eyes were vivid, and leaked a green fluid that stained her cheek. Though I had never seen one before, we realized she was a lamia—an infamous deceiver of the fey world. We felt a chill behind us, though at that moment we knew not what it was. As she was awakened by our presence, the vines in the room writhed. She looked upon us.

Edrathior asked her if she was the Truth Seeker.

"The Olman call me the Truth Seeker," she replied. "But I am no oracle. I predict nothing, but I know many things, especially as they concern this island. I know the  names, races, and locations of all living things here."

Though it seemed hard to believe, I had no better explanation. She told us how she knew of all beings on the island. She told us she knew we had recently parted company with the Uja Zem, the "Zombie Master" of Mora. She knew of the "quasit Ilnix, demon-familiar to the elf Lucan, who is now wrapped in a phanaton's net here in my prison." She said she knew of the tiny creature who had followed us here but refused to enter the temple. This was the phanaton, and that his name was Holtoy.

The lamia concluded her introduction: "I know each of you, though I cannot see into your hearts and minds. And yes, I know of you, Vestryl, who stands unseen before me."

It was then that this “Vestryl” emerged from her apparent spell of invisibility, a human woman dressed all in black and reeking of necromancy. She wore a leathery, bat-like cloak and carried a staff made from the bones of children. I was less than impressed, but both Penitence and Elody were immediately disturbed and agitated by her presence. I do not know if she followed us, or preceded us, in this temple.

Almost immediately, the lamia spoke calmly. "There will be no bloodshed tolerated between my guests in these halls. If you do not heed this, I will awaken Cuicatl."

Without waiting for us to discuss the situation, the necromancer Vestryl asked her question. “Where is the Deluvian Hourglass?”

The lamia's answer: “In the ruins of Thanaclan.”

Ecaris, of the Emperor's Guard

This obviously meant something to Vestryl—whose pale face grew paler still—though neither the question nor the answer meant a thing to me. Vestryl very clearly desired to set out for this Thanaclan, but desired more to hear what we were going to ask the Truth Seeker. This left us in a bit of a bind. Whatever Vestryl wanted with this hourglass, it couldn’t be good; she had a staff made of dead babies, after all. So we decided we had best find out what was going on, but without giving Vestryl too much information. These are the questions we asked.

Ecaris (click here!) offered the first one. “What is the Deluvian Hourglass?”

The lamia answered.  "Prophecies in your world have foretold the next awakening of the Tarrasque, the Harbinger, the Great Beast. If unimpeded, this will come to pass. It has been ninety years since its last fitful run, but that occurrence lasted only five days and the Tarrasque devoured only thousands. This time the Great Beast will not slumber again. In the wake of this destruction, agencies malevolent to the freedom of mortals will rise and seize power. Only one device exists to forestall this event—perhaps indefinitely. The Deluvian Hourglass, an artifact as old as the world. With it, the Tarrasque can be leashed. Or freed for all time. Or...made to sleep for eons more."

Gruff spoke the second question. "What did you do to get imprisoned here?"

The lamia answered. "My sisters and I attempted to usurp the Queen of the Summer Court. As punishment, we have been exiled here, stricken with knowledge, and forced to answer the questions of those who find us."

Edrathior took our map of the Isle, the one we uncovered in the Olman's sea cave. He drew forth a twig, sharpened to a fine point, and pricked his finger with it, adding a crude grid to our map. He asked, “At what grid coordinates on this map are the ruins of Thanaclan?” He held out our map and our makeshift pen, our plan being to thus conceal the answer from Vestryl.

With that, the Truth Seeker explained that "for my crimes, I have been bound here." She said that she was required to answer one question from each person who reached this chamber. She she was also empowered to punish any breach of the peace occurring in her presence.

The Truth Seeker answered. “The ruins of Thanaclan lie in the center of the plateau at the center of the island. It was once a great city of humans—humans who were favored by the lords of the Feywild and were invited to live on the Isle so that they might visit both worlds. But Thanaclan fell, destroyed by one of its own factions, which was not content with the blessings of the fey alone. They made pacts with demonic entities that found a way into the world through their fell agreements." The lamia marked a spot on the map in Edrathior's blood.

Penitence asked, “What guards the Deluvian Hourglass?”

The lamia answered. "No beast guards the Hourglass itself. Beasts of the island, Olman traitors, and the cults of Demagorgon and Orcus lie between you and the artifact—though not all denizens of the Isle would oppose you."

Bartholomew asked, "Where are your sisters, according to this map?" Again, we hoped Vestryl would not be privy to the answer.

The lamia seized Edrathior's bloody hand and put more spots on the map, indicating the location of her sisters. Most were far, on the other side of the island, but one was somewhat closer, on the eastern half. We do not think Vestryl could see this, and the lamia did not speak the locations aloud.

Elody asked, "How can we free you?"

Looking directly at the cleric, the lamia said, "You must find my name. It was taken from me and has been secreted away somewhere in the Silken Grove. If you choose to do this, the will-o’-wisp Quival can guide you to the Grove. The glassy orb that Edrathior had been carrying flared up with electric light. So this was a will-'o-wisp, a fey being that feeds on fear and suffering. In faerie tales, wisps are known for luring the hapless to their deaths in dark bogs.

The lamia added, “If I am free, I will turn my powers against these intruders. I will send Cuicatl against them, and sew chaos in their ranks.”

I asked her my—and our final—question. "What is the story of Cuacatl?” 

The Truth Seeker's answer was surprisingly brief. "Cuicatl was the friend and protector of the last King of Thanaclan, exiled from the city when he refused to bow to demons. Cuicatl is an girallon  made to slumber in living death and roused only when disturbed. He will destroy those deemed an enemy to his king. Cuicatl has always been revered by the phanatons and is feared still by the Skin Eaters, but he will not hesitate to kill any who disturb him."

While questions were asked and answered, we attempted to drive Vestryl out. We knew we could not do so by force, and so tried to do so by threatening, cajoling, or Elody’s peculiar combination of the two. Elody demanded to know whether the children who made up the woman's staff were slain by the necromancer herself. Vestryl refused to answer, saying only that the "Avandran" (worshipper of Avandra?) knew "nothing of children." This only frustrated the cleric.

Even Edrathior had some words for Vestryl. Evidently, he had absorbed one of the necromancer's own memories when we climbed the trellis and the moss earlier. The eladrin made a reference to it, but Vestryl seemed to take only pride in the memory. "That is when true power is born," she retorted arrogantly.

In the end, it took five of us crowding her by the chasm’s edge to persuade her to leave. She left in haste, as if fearing pursuit; she jumped into the chasm and spread her cloak out wide. It snapped out like the wings of a giant bat, clawed and functional, and she glided away into the night. She had no heard all of the questions; fortunately, she learned little about Cuicatl.

After we had finished asking our questions, and after Vestryl fled, the Truth Seeker offered to help us if we would help free her. She told us she could lend us her own strength and knowledge, and that she could command the power of Cuacatl for us. Although the lamia are known to be great deceivers, we accepted her offer.

At the Truth Seeker’s command, the flow of water slowed and almost stopped, revealing a trellis along the cliff face. Across the way, three insect-like, or perhaps crab-like monsters emerged from their tunnels, cast three cadavers before us and vanished into the tunnels. The bodies had some salvageable equipment: two backpacks, fifty feet of silk rope, an antlered helm, and a dagger engraved with scales. The helm was clearly enchanted. Trying it on I felt all my senses sharpened, though I suspect its bulk would be more hindrance than it’s worth. I suspect the dagger is enchanted as well. I think Bartholomew may have pocketed some treasure, but I can't be sure.