XXIII. Edward in the Dungeon

Suddenly Edward found himself in what appeared to be a central guard station in an underground dungeon complex, with five corridors leading off in all directions. Khadija, Arvid and Oconee were there with him. The zyern had not accompanied them. It probably couldn’t fit inside the chamber, thought Edward.  
 
They were met by a large, fierce-looking but very thin and pale orc fighter-type. Khadija nodded to the orc, who pulled out a ring of keys and led the group down one of the corridors to a cell. He unlocked the door and the group entered the cell, dragging Edward in with them. Once inside, the orc stripped Edward of his armor, weapons and everything except his undergarments—including his firearm—then shoved him up against a wall and secured his arms to chains fixed on the wall. Khadija then gave instructions to the pale orc, who promptly left the cell with Edward’s items. Oconee left with the orc.

With Arvid observing, Khadija then began to question Edward.

"Do you know why you’re here?" she demanded. "I mean specifically, beyond your being a paladin of Hieroneous," she said mockingly, "and a friend of that bitch Amalla."

"I don’t know, and I don’t have anything to do with Amalla, and don’t care to."

"Liar!" Khadija shrieked. Then, more calmly, "You’re here because of that device you were carrying. The one you used against my little flying friend the first time we met—and that you just killed today." Edward eyed her with out replying. "It’ll take me months to train a replacement for that bird!!!" she screamed. And again, she calmed down, and told Edward, "You are going to tell us everything about that device. I’ve never seen such a thing!"

"Better listen to her," Arvid added. "She means what she says. She really was fond of that bird." Smiling now, he continued, "I’ll be helping her, by the way. Now you really don’t want me—or our staff of, ah, persuaders—to have to spend a lot of time and effort on this little matter, do you?"

"I’ll never talk! Hieroneous protects!" answered Edward defiantly.

Arvid sighed. Khadija hissed, "We’ll see what Snurk thinks of that. Come on, Arvid." The two left the cell.

Some time later, the pale orc returned, smiling a poisonous smile. "Now we will make our acquaintances," Snurk gloated. "You and I. You and I. You and I! " He pulled out a heavy rod from behind his back, tapped it in his hand, and strode toward Edward. The paladin knew what was coming and tried to brace himself for it.

When the pale orc finished, he left Edward half-conscious and bleeding heavily from many wounds. After an hour, the cell door opened and a minion provided the prisoner with some poor-quality food and water, then left.

The next day (as far as Edward could reckon time in the dungeon), the same thing happened to him. The day after that, as he stood chained to the wall, suffering from his wounds, a thin, leather-clad, ill-favored but apparently sympathetic man entered the cell, carrying a bag. "For your wounds," he said to Edward, and began applying medications and bandages. The last wound, the most serious of the lot, required special treatment, the man said. From the bag he produced a vial of a brownish powder, which he proceeded to sprinkle into the wound before wrapping it tightly with bandages.

Immediately, Edward felt intense pain, as well as a general feeling of physical and mental deterioration. But after about a minute, the pain went away, and he found that he now felt stronger and sharper than ever! Whatever the medication was, it certainly produced a positive effect. "What kind of medication was that?" Edward inquired. "Oh, an old treatment we have for difficult cases," replied the man. "What’s in it?" Edward persisted. "Various ingredients, most of them very obscure. Are you familiar with herbs, plants, medicinal ingredients?" Edward admitted he was not. "Then I’m afraid the composition of the substance would mean little to you." And with that, the man left the cell and Edward fell to sleep.

He was rudely aroused the next day and manacled roughly, then led out of the cell and down a corridor that apparently had only one other room opening onto it before emerging into a larger chamber. Edward braced himself, for the room was obviously a torture chamber. A rack, an iron maiden, chains, braziers, hot irons and pokers, and other instruments of torture abounded, as well as bottles, jars and vials of what could only be poisons or other vile substances for the torment of prisoners. A torturer was waiting for him. Edward was only briefly surprised to see that the torturer was in fact the man who had "treated" his wounds the night before. He wondered more than ever what evil substances he had been treated with.

The impending torture focused Edward’s mind. He tried to telepathically contact his magic sword, Sharkbite! Unfortunately, he received no response to the call. The sword must have been out of range, or otherwise sequestered from contact with its master.

"Good afternoon," the torturer said evilly. "We’re going to have a discussion, you and I. You are going to tell us what we want to know. I strongly advise you to do so. You will regret not doing so, I assure you."

"You’ll learn nothing from me!" said Edward defiantly. He called on Hieroneous for help, which provoked sneers and scoffs from the torturer and the guards who had brought Edward to the torture chamber. "Rack him!" ordered the torturer. And so it began. For hours the torturer applied various implements of pain to the helpless paladin, attempting to break down his resistance and extract the desired information from him. But Edward, being a paladin, could not be intimidated. The same could not be said for the torturer! Edward, bound and helpless as he was, was able to command the torturer to stop what he was doing! However, although Edward’s initial attempt at intimidation was successful, the torturer proved less than receptive to his efforts to negotiate his release. The torturer finally ordered the guards to return Edward to his cell.

Several hours later the cell door opened and the torturer entered, accompanied by two ghoul barbarians. The ghouls grabbed either arm of the chained paladin, and the torturer ripped off the bandage from Edward’s most serious wound. "Time to take your medicine!" giggled the torturer, as he applied more of the powder into the wound. Again, Edward was wracked with pain and weakness for a minute, before feeling that he had gained physical and mental strength. This time, Edward tried to use that extra strength to break free! Alas, the chains and the two ghouls proved more than adequate to secure him in place, strength or no strength. A quick blow to the head subdued the paladin, and the torturer and guards left him alone again. Edward drifted into unconsciousness again and collapsed to the floor of the cell.

He was jostled awake by the thin, pale, deceptively strong hands of Snurk. "On your feet, o mighty paladin!" sneered the orc. "I see Shopak took good care of you. Now it’s time for the evening’s festivities!" The pale orc produced a gunny sack and threw it over the head of the paladin. "Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, now would we?" mocked the pale orc.

The orc dragged Edward out of the cell. Several guards forced Edward along the corridor from his cell to the guard post, then up the long corridor that wound about 100 feet and climbed 40 feet or so to reach a landing of some kind. A sharp jab in the ribs and Edward felt himself being urged to his left into a wide hallway that proceeded for about 60 feet before curving to the left again. He stumbled on a rough patch of the rocky floor, was caught, then was dragged for an indeterminable, but long, distance. He was stopped and forced upright. Edward felt himself being shoved against some kind of stone column. His hands were chained to the column.

Snurk then pulled the gunny sack off Edward’s head. The paladin could see where he was: a dimly-lit chamber of huge size, with a high ceiling supported by numerous stone columns. A hideous altar stood before him at the end off the chamber, with burning braziers on either side. A shelf along the far wall, behind the altar, bore a number of ritual objects, including a horrifying knife stained with blood. To his right he heard the sound of weeping. He turned his head and saw a young human woman, a girl really, also chained to the column.

Sounds of rustling clothing and feet upon stone alerted Edward to the entry into the chamber–clearly an evil temple or shrine of some kind–of a crowd of observers. Or worshipers, more likely.

To his left, Edward heard a curtain being drawn. From a hidden room beyond the curtain entered an evil procession: several acolytes of the god whose temple this was, dragging toward the altar the bound and struggling form of a human, apparently a ranger from his torn and blood-stained garb. The acolytes picked up the man and threw him down onto the altar, then secured him in place.

Another figure entered the temple: a tall, gaunt, black-robed figure, wearing a headdress formed from the skull of a goat and bearing a skull-tipped rod. He advanced to the front of the altar, then turned and faced the assembled worshipers.

"Hail the bloated goat prince of undeath! Hail Orcus!" he cried. The audience responded, "Hail Orcus!" Appalled, Edward stared at the vile celebrant as the rite began. Evil prayers to Orcus were recited by all present. The priest addressed the congregation briefly, demanding their unconditional allegiance to the prince of the undead, promising benefits beyond their dreams, assuring them of the unholy delights they would experience this night. Then, turning back to the altar, he made gestures of evil power over the bound, gagged and struggling ranger. He went to the shelf behind the altar and took into his hands the bloody knife. Edward shut his eyes against the sight.

A sharp jab to the ribs forced his eyes open again. "Mustn’t disrespect the master!" hissed the pale orc, now standing next to him. "Watch, watch!"

Horror grew. The celebrant took the bloody knife, raised it high overhead, turned to face the congregation, and screamed, "In Orcus’ name, the sacrifice!" The audience roared its approval. He spun around to face the altar, emitted a ghastly shriek, and plunged the knife into the helpless victim, then pulled the blade down the man’s belly, opening up his body in a shower of blood. Dropping the knife, the priest thrust his left hand into the gaping wound and began ripping out viscera. Strings of intestine and other internal organs fell from his hand onto the altar and thence to the floor beneath. Blood dripped into bowls at the base of the altar. The man screamed in agony. The celebrant leered and grinned demonically at the sight and sound of the victim’s suffering. Then he took up the knife again, and cut out the man’s tongue. His eyes were next, gouged out slowly by the ghastly nails of the priest’s fingers. At last, the priest plunged the knife into the tormented ranger’s chest and cut out the man’s heart. He raised it up, turning again toward the audience. The still-beating heart of the victim spurted blood from his hand. Then he drew the heart to his mouth, bit off a chunk of the quivering flesh, and sprinkled himself with the dripping blood. He passed the organ to one of the acolytes, who did likewise, as did the others in turn. When the acolytes had partaken of the vile sacrament, they passed the remains of the heart to the congregation. The guests, males and females alike, swarmed around the acolytes, each striving for a share of the heart and the blood. The bowls of blood were taken by the acolytes, who sprinkled the blood over the ecstatic congregants.

Edward struggled not to vomit, his stomach outraged by the sight he had just witnessed. But worse was to follow. After the victim’s heart had been devoured, and chants of devotion to Orcus had filled the shrine, there appeared suddenly a new presence. Tall, bloated, goat’s hooves, tiny wings too small for its body. A nalfeshnee demon!

The evil outsider spoke. "Eritlu Saare, true devotee of the goat prince, you have done well, and you shall be rewarded!" The demon gestured toward the priest. "Receive this wish. Use it in the service of your master!" Eritlu bowed in thanksgiving, and with that the demon vanished.

The rite, however, had only begun. The congregants, the acolytes, and Eritlu now began to engage in acts of depravity, debauchery and necrophilia that revolted Edward to his very core. He questioned to himself how such evil could be allowed to exist, and why the powers of good did nothing to stop it. His self-absorption ended when he heard the girl next to him shriek in terror and saw her collapse, still chained to the column. Snurk had left them to join in the orgiastic revelry. Alone now, Edward closed his eyes, refusing to see anything more.

Hours seemed to pass before the orc returned. He unchained Edward and the girl, and with his guards he forced the two back out of the now-empty temple, to the lower level in which they had been confined. He threw Edward back into his cell, while his guards dragged the girl to some other location unknown to Edward.

After an unknown time, Edward awoke from unconsciousness. He felt weak and looked pekid, but shook off the feeling. In the darkness of the cell, Edward waited for the pale orc to return, but no one came to his cell. No torturer, no guards. No food or water either. At length, he fell exhausted into sleep again.