The Cultist Hunt

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Seven Grand Cities dotted the lands cut by the Magna River with the greatest squabbles put to ease by the Grand Priest of Phaedria. Magic was only wielded by the Priests and Priestesses of the Order using it to heal and light the way of their followers. Then the Elder Dragons appeared, fracturing reality and allowing chaos to flow through the tear, and in their wake the four Northern most cities were destroyed becoming their new lairs. The first of those born with the gift bestowed upon them by the Dragons were persecuted by the Order and a decree was issued requiring the turning over of any children born with the gift.

“How do we know this isn’t some trap?” Rutilia asked, her back pressed against a wooden post as she looked at the three other hunters around her, each clad in the same grey and black leather jackets just barely concealing the steel chest plate underneath.

“Trust in Brother Lyconides’ judgment, sister, he would not so easily fall into ploy laid by the Dragon Worshippers.” Citrio responded looking up from the rapier in his hand, the metal shimmering in the pale candlelight. The sound of steel-toed boots on stone drew Rutilia’s golden gaze to Lyconides who walked back across the public forum towards the group, an elderly man standing opposite to them hands shaking nervously before scurrying off into the darkness of the ruined town.

“The man says he saw four cloaked individuals enter a ruined church near the outskirts of the town near sunrise,” Lyconides explains as he rejoins the others, his dark brown beard being the only indicator of his mouthes movement. “This should be an easy hunt given their numbers but stay wary, as their followers lessen their strongest seem to be emboldened.” The elder hunter added before pushing past Cordia, beginning the long walk-through rubble-filled streets and flooded alleyways.

“How did this place get so… disgusting?” Hanno asked, the boy being the newest member of their order, only just having left the citadel a few months prior, his eyes fixed upon a skeleton-looking man huddled against an old shop as the group walked past.

“This was once the home of Ulrico and his Warband of followers, they believed their gifts of magic were something other than purely heretical. Thus, this town was reduced to rubble by the four dukes and the Churches armies.” Lyconides replied, turning down an alleyway to bypass a fallen building that blocked the street. “Unfortunately, Ulrico’s children escaped out grasps and three more towns suffered the same fate. Now all that remains of Ulrico’s blood is with his daughter who is likely dead in some ditch somewhere if Phaedria was kind, sadly for her, our Goddess rarely is.” Those last words drew a small chuckle from Citrio and Cordia, with Hanno only falling silent as he gazed upon another starved individual.

By the time the five hunters arrived at the decayed church, the moons held themselves high in the sky, their light passing through clouds to illuminate the ground below. Citrio led the way to the door, pulling his pistol from his belt as he stepped upon the first wooden plank of the stairs. Rutilia was second to the door, standing opposite Citrio with her back pressed to the rotten planks of the wall. The others took positions upon the staircase, Hanno watching the town as Lyconides and Cordia aimed their pistols to the door.

Stepping between the two and the doorway Citrio kicked in the handle, wood splintering inward quickly followed by the huntsman who swept his view around the chapel’s nave, only the skeletal remains of previous patrons remaining in the pews and no signs of life. Rutilia followed swiftly after, the smell of the dead overwhelming the huntress as she too looked around the room, seeing nothing to indicate any recent visitors.

“It’s all clear,” Rutilia called out to the others coughing lightly as she took another breath, the smell becoming unbearable enough for her to pull her white scarf over the lower half of her face. “Smells like this place should be riddled with the dead.”

“That isn’t coming from these though,” Citrio added, poking the head of one of the skeletons with the tip of his blade before turning his gaze to Lyconides who walked in with Hanno and Cordia.

“They could be hidden in the floor,” Hanno suggested, sliding the hilt of his ax into the loop on his belt before holding his hand out, palm facing to the sky. “Ad Ihim Mecul,” he’d say quietly, a small ball of bright light appearing over his palm and spreading its light around the room.

“Well, begin searching for an entrance to the lair, ” Lyconides commanded, each of the hunters sheathing their weapons before scattering around the room, pushing aside old paints and furniture in search of any other doorway. As Rutilia moved from one place to the next, the bottom of the altar at the head of the room caught her eye, the faint glow of orange shining through the cracks in the woods where the marble alter sat atop.

“Sister Cordia, help me with this,” she called to the other huntress, nodding her head towards the altar and receiving a nod of confirmation from the other woman. Placing her hands on the marble, Rutilia was soon joined by Cordia, summoning all their strength the two began to push the altar, sliding it across the wooden floor with great effort. Soon enough a hole presented itself in the floor along with a ladder descending into a tunnel lit by candles. “This doesn’t feel right.”

“What doesn’t?” Cordia questioned; the sound of rasping steel followed as she pulled her sword free of its sheath.

“Why would they keep their candles alight if they didn’t want to be found? They must have known the Inquisition would find them.”

“No need to ask such questions, Sister, we need only thank Phaedria that they did so,” Citrio responded, joining the two along with Hanno and Lyconides.

“Indeed, Brother Citrio,” Lyconides added, looking down into the hole below them. “Hanno will remain here in case of any unaccounted-for Cultists. Citrio you will be the van, Cordia will be the rear, and be ready, I can already smell the stench of magic within those tunnels.” The Inquisitor said with a half-smile showing through his beard. With a silent nod, Citrio unsheathed his blade before descending the later, Lyconides following afterward, and then Rutilia before finally Cordia descended with them into the lair of the cult.