Cursed Cleric

by Salvador Mercer

  Will was the first to swing his broadsword at the creature and it went right through it as if it was only air. Targon faired the same with his axe and Cedric tried to stab it with a dagger. Finally, Khan had enough, and he summoned his last breath to expel a fireball straight up and through the ghost itself after positioning the staff within the apparition. “Ogon unitzhtozhe!”

  The ball of fire lifted the creature up and into the wall where it quickly spread across the ceiling until it had no where to go except down at the corners of the room. The companions found themselves diving towards the center of the room as flames licked the ceiling and all four walls incinerating dust and dirt in the process. Some of the stones cracked under the intense heat so ferocious were the flames.

  Slumping on his butt with his back to the wall, Khan tried to breathe taking in deep gulps of air. He was pale and a sickly bruise was around his neck from where the ghastly creature had touched him. Salina was the first up and she took a couple of steps to reach him kneeling on knee while reaching into her pouch for a rag and telling Cedric, “Give me your water flask, now.”

  Cedric complied and the companions stood in disbelief at their near brush with death. Will was the first to speak, “You know, if your ancestors lobbed balls of fire and bolts of lightning willy-nilly like you just did, I can see why no one liked you.”

  Khan could only roll his eyes as Salina administered to him. Targon brushed a few burnt hairs from his head and said, “That was close.”

  “I can still feel the heat,” Cedric added, dousing the rag his mother held out with water from his flask.

  “What do you think that was?” Will asked.

  “Who, would be a more appropriate question,” Khan finally spoke, his voice harsh.

  There was no time to contemplate as the feet of the ghost appeared at the top of the stairs. It was walking down the stairs and no longer floating showing more and more of its substance as it came down despite the pedestal being secure and back in place. It appeared that concrete, stone, and doors did nothing to stop this creature.

  “Get back,” Targon said, motioning for them to get behind him.

  Cedric secured his flask and helped his mother to grab Khan by each arm, one still gripping his staff tightly, and pull the Kesh man, feet dragging, behind Targon. Will was the first to ask, “What’s your plan?”

  Targon shook his head, “I have no idea, but it can’t be allowed to touch Khan again. It will kill him if it does.”

  Still seeing to Khan, Salina shot back, “Sacrificing yourself doesn’t seem like a wise idea either.”

  “No,” Targon agreed, “But I think I could handle its cursed touch better than him.”

  Everyone was doubtful but no one had a better plan. Slowly the ghost came within full view and once it reached the bottom of the stairs it started to float slightly, only a few inches above the floor, but it was enough to unnerve all of them.

  Khan seemed to have a plan, “Follow me,” he said after opening the corridor door again.

  The group ran through and into the narrow passageway while Khan commanded it shut and brought forth some type of magic against the door making it shimmer. Seeing its victims escaping the ghostly apparition let out a long shriek of despair and was last seen floating towards them when the door shut. The loud, intense banging against the door was proof enough that the ghost was most displeased.

  “What did you do?” Salina asked.

  Khan motioned behind them and pushed his way past, running down the corridor and doing his best to illuminate the passageway. “No time to explain, either it may not hold for more than a few minutes or the creature will understand its limitation and simply go around the door itself.”

  No one argued and the group ran until Cedric complained, “How far is the passageway? I can’t run forever.”

  “I see something not far ahead,” Khan said, the door continued its rhythmic beating and the corridor magnified it by allowing the sound to echo and reverberate off its cold, stone walls.

  They found a large, metallic door that was not locked and simply opened it using the common enough latch at waist level. Filing in the door was closed to within a crack and Khan peered intensely out, looking back the way they had arrived.

  “It seemed to have worked, whatever it was,” Salina said, gasping for air.

  “I could use some of that Kesh magic right about now,” Will added, and all understood he was referring to the only magic that had been bestowed upon them, a spell of stamina.

  “We do not have much time,” Khan said. “I can try to seal this door but the last one took most of my strength. I fear I will not be able to delay her again.”

  “What do you mean by delay?” Salina asked, “I thought—”

  Cedric cut her off, “Look at this, I think we found it.”

  The others walked deeper into the square room and found a raised pedestal with a sarcophagus on top. It was not ornamented with a relief or depiction of a human, but it was shaped as a long rectangle and obviously looked like a coffin. Targon was the first to state the obvious, “It seems a bit… simple to me.”

  The banging continued, louder if it were possible despite the long length of their run. Cedric moved to the base and wiped away dirt and dust for the third time that night. “Andrew Vandersot.”

  “That’s it?” Salina asked.

  “What would you expect?” Khan asked. “A name is more than sufficient at this point.”

  A bloodcurdling yell as the banging stopped and was replaced with howls and growling. Will moved Khan out of the way rather forcefully and looked down the dark corridor. “Do you hear what I hear?”

  “There is no way possible that ghost let wolves into this place,” Salina said.

  “I do not think they are inside, yet.” Khan said, moving into the center of the room and holding his staff high so that the entire area was illuminated. High above them, on each wall, there was a grate barred with iron. The noise seemed to be entering from those specific points, at least two of the four.

  Salina looked from the tomb to Khan and asked, “What did you mean by delay? You didn’t have a chance to answer me.”

  “That’s because I found the gravesite for one Andrew Vandersot, Mother,” Cedric said. “We should be focused on opening it and finding this shield and then leaving as quickly as we can.”

  “I agree too, but how can we leave if the only exit is being blocked by an angry ghost?” Will said from his vantage point.

  “Not to mention the wolves,” Targon added.

  “You just had to, didn’t you?” Will looked at Targon.

  Khan held his free hand up to silence them. “The spell is a form of magic; a force field is what my elders called it. Only mages of the highest skill and power can focus the amount of energy needed to summon such protection.”

  “So how did you do this?” Salina asked patiently while Cedric sighed.

  “I used both the power of the Father and the Mother, as Elister has been teaching me.” Khan looked at her.

  “So it will fail?” Salina asked.

  “Yes,” Khan answered. “Very soon.”

  Turning to her son, Salina asked, “Can you find an opening mechanism for it?”

  “I do not think it works in such a manner,” Khan clarified.

  “Fine,” Salina said. “Will, leave the door to Khan and both you and Targon lift, pull, or otherwise open that tomb.”

  “Is that a good idea with the undead walking about?” Will asked, hesitation in his voice. “I mean, what if the young mister Vandersot becomes animated and attacks us?”

  “That’s something we’ll deal with when it happens,” Salina said. “Now get to it.”

  “Yes, my Lady,” Will said, a tinge of hurt in his voice and Targon moved to the opposite side while Khan returned to the door to stand watch.

  With a great heave, both men lifted and the only thing keeping the lid on was its weight. Both men strained against it, Will more so than Targon, but after lifti
ng they simply had to shank it slightly to an angle so that the perfectly aligned lip around the top no longer fit snugly over the stone coffin. Looking at one another and not saying a word, Cedric understood their hesitation and quickly moved to the door saying, “You know what, Khan? You shed some light on that coffin and I’ll keep watch.

  Both Ulathans breathed in relief not wanting to push the top off or back far enough and not be able to see inside it. Their hair crawled and they had goose bumps on their arms and necks. Finally, Targon said, “On the count of three, Will. One, two, three.”

  Both men pushed towards the north east corner and the large, stone top moved over until it reached a tipping point and then its weight brought the east side down to the floor with a booming thud and a scream came from the corridor.

  “What was that?” Will asked.

  Khan already had his light shining from his staff’s gemstone and he thrust it over the deep coffin showing an armored body with a shield and sword over its chest and abdomen. The body was only visible at the hands and face area and had severely decomposed to only a bit of hair and skeletal remains. The skull was adorned and covered by an armored helmet that was face open and the armor was accented by the remains of an elegant cotton cloak edged with a silk border. The black boots finished the dressing and the remains were laid face up as was the custom. A smooth, white, river rock was on the man’s forehead which was another Ulathan custom.

  “Cedric yelled back from the door, “The ghost is coming and its angry.”

  “I believe the apparition was a she,” Khan said, taking a moment to comment on Cedric’s observation.

  “Well, she’s coming and she’s very angry,” Cedric said, slowly stepping away from the door.

  Khan headed back to the door when Targon exclaimed, “Hey, we need your light.”

  “Use the dagger,” Khan said, continuing to the door and paying his companions no heed.

  The moaning and groans were audible to the group as the spirit wailed and screamed occasionally in anger. Khan opened the door enough for everyone to get a peek at what was coming at them. The howling had died down as the wolves fought their own terror and presumedly scurried away from the entire area once the ghost had made its presence known.

  Targon called out to Cedric, “Quick, the dagger, hold it over the coffin.”

  Cedric complied and once illuminated, he said, “I feel sad.”

  “I do too,” Will said. “Also a bit pessimistic with that ghost thing coming for us.”

  “I don’t mean in that way,” Cedric said. “I thought after reading so much about the heroics of our ancestors that… that I’d see them in a different way than this.”

  Salina moved to her son’s side and looked in the coffin. “Death has a way of humbling us all.”

  Will interjected, “Sorry to interrupt, but Khan’s face looks like he’s been defeated already, and the ghost woman will be here at any second.”

  “Do something then,” Cedric yelled from his position at the tomb.

  Khan pushed on the door slamming it shut, but the wailing was only muffled as the apparition continued its headlong flight down the corridor. Murmuring his magical words of the arcane again, Khan raised his staff and pointed it at the door. Within seconds the door reverberated with pounding and the shimmering of the magic-user’s force field was evident, if only for a few seconds.

  A louder, bloodcurdling scream emanated from the ghost and both the door and the magical barrier were sundered into many different pieces. The door was physical, and the pieces hit the companions, while the magical barrier that Khan had attempted to set dissipated rapidly once broken. Khan, straining to the end, was thrown backwards and landed past the coffin near the far, north wall on his back temporarily dazing the man.

  Will drew his sword and closed the gap between himself and the ghastly figure. He slashed once and it had the same effect as last time with the blade passing harmlessly through its spirit body. The ghost swung a backhanded blow that hit Will across his face and its kinetic energy pulled the man off his feet and onto his back near the west wall.

  Cedric turned his dagger on the figure and held it out, though his hand was shaking somewhat, “Stay back!” he said simply.

  “Do something,” Salina implored Targon while she also drew her slender blade, useless though the gesture was.

  Targon saw two of his companions down and the other two threatened. He moved towards the coffin and the ghost’s reaction was immediate as it spoke to them. “You dare to defile my beloved son’s resting place? You will pay for this, especially the foul Kesh who dared to enter my abode.”

  “Stay away from my son,” Salina said, moving to stand in front of Cedric, holding her weapon out in front of her.

  The ghost turned its head and snarled at her. “Wicked woman, I will tear you and your son to shreds.”

  The figure moved towards Salina who jumped forward trying to impale the apparition and succeeded as the slender blade went point first into it. However, it came out just as easily and a scowl on the ghost’s hideous face was the only indication that the stab had even happened. Salina yelled, “Get away from my son!”

  The figure said nearly the same, “You stay away from my son!”

  Mother to mother, dead to the living, both protecting their sons, or trying to. The irony was evident and it currently favored the dead until a Ranger of Agon stepped in. “Enough!” Targon yelled, using the sword that was buried with the dead spirit’s son. The apparition turned and came straight at Targon leaving Salina and Cedric against the east wall.

  “You dare touch our family heirloom?” The ghoul screeched at Targon, hands like razor tipped claws poised for attacking. The way it moved, by gliding over the stone instead of walking, was both eerie and unnerving.

  “Stand back or I will strike you down,” Targon said, feeling power coming from the sword.

  The ghost ignored him and attacked, reaching for his face and eyes. Targon brought the sword up and swung it at the outstretched arms and when the metal hit the ghost, it clanged as if hitting steel. Its kinetic energy was countered by the ethereal energy of the ghost and while the sword did no apparent damage to the creature, it did resist it unlike their earlier strikes with normal weapons.

  Seeing the action, Salina yelled at Targon, “Keep her at bay.”

  “I’m trying,” Targon said, moving to position himself between the ghost and his companions.

  Salina ran to the coffin saying, “I have an idea.”

  “What ever it is, do it fast,” Targon said, countering a blow that would have taken his head off. The impact echoed throughout the chamber which was now mostly dark except for the ebony hue of the ghost and the light from the dagger. When Khan went down, the light of his staff went out as well.

  “See if you can pin it to the wall,” Salina commanded.

  “What?” Targon asked, his voice pitch rising slightly at the odd suggestion.

  Salina ran up behind him and said in a calmer voice, “See if you can use that sword as a stick to pin the ghost against the wall.”

  “The creature is much stronger than it looks,” Targon said, having felt the blows it dealt, and indeed, the fact that two of their party’s strongest fighters, Kesh and Ulathan, were on their back unconscious.

  “Do it or we all die,” Salina said, her voice firm and intent.

  Targon gritted his teeth and grabbed the flat of the blade with his left hand while his right hand remained on the sword’s hilt. The weapon was inert initially, but now it started to glow a faint, white light helping them to see better.

  A ghastly scream emanated from the creature and it fought against them with a facial visage that was terrible to behold. Targon pushed and prodded and somehow managed to get the long length of the blade across the ghost’s arms and chest, though he had taken a shot to his temple that left a nasty bruise. With all his might, he pushed back, and the creature was pinned to the wall slightly to the west of the door.

  “That
should not be possible,” Khan said from behind them.

  Targon tried to look over his shoulder but couldn’t, all of his effort was needed on keeping the apparition under control. “Do something,” he grunted.

  Salina approached and tried to touch its forehead with something in her hand. The creature saw it and tried to recoil but couldn’t. Targon was a full head and more, taller than the Ulathan woman and the ghost was pinned even higher with its chest and arms at Targon’s neck level. That made reaching the ghost’s head almost impossible for the shorter woman. Motioning to Khan, she said, “Take this and place it on her forehead and don’t let go.”

  The smooth, white river rock was visible as she held it for Khan and the Kesh wizard took it. He appeared pale and sickly and blood was flowing from his nose and from a gash in his jaw. He quickly moved to her with the rock in one hand and his staff in the other. Being much taller, he could just reach the apparition which roared in opposition, but the wizard kept at it. The stone touched the ghost’s forehead and the creature’s ghastly, glowing eyes rolled back into its skull like head and a moaning sound escaped from its form as it sunk slowly to the ground.

  Keeping the stone pressed against it, Khan moved to allow the apparition to come to rest on the floor of the room with Targon keeping pressure against it with the sword. When it moved no longer, and its glow subsided to nothing, the ghastly, ethereal corpse solidified into a version of a mummified body.

  Both men stood up, Targon with the sword and Khan with his staff, though leaving the stone resting on top of its forehead. Quickly, the stone glowed a white hued light and maintained its position atop the forehead of the creature.

  “How did you know?” Targon turned to Salina.

  They were interrupted by Khan who stumbled backwards and fell on his rear, his staff falling to the ground horizontally. Both companions went to him and Cedric stood over him with the dagger as the only other form of light in the room other than the white stone. The light in the crypt was very faint and it was difficult to see one another. “Are you alright?” Salina asked the Kesh man.