Waking the Dead (Part Five)
'But I don't want to,' says Garanhedd. 'I am not truly dead. After I was murdered, my friends and allies planned to bring me back to life. They would have succeeded too, if not for the interference of that arch-meddler, the Forgotten God. Even so, my resurrection was only delayed, not prevented. You can help me with that, if you wish.'
'What would we have to do?' asks Isolia, narrowing her eyes and looking sceptical.
'Put my bones back together. A simple enough task.'
'And how will you reward us?' asks Philander.
'I am a god. Not one of the greater gods, but certainly a regional power. When my bones are once more clothed in flesh, I will have power enough to grant you whatever boon you may wish. What would you like?'
'These bones are huge,' says Venta. 'Won't they be too heavy for us to lift?'
'I suspect you'll find them strangely light and easy to move,' says Garanhedd. 'Of course, they're not real bones.'
'I want to ask you some more questions,' you say, folding your arms, glancing slightly upwards, and looking contemplative.
'By all means,' the dead giant replies.
'Are you familiar with demons?' you ask.
'In the early days, when the world was still under construction, I fought demons who sneaked into Creation and sought to tear it down from inside,' says Garanhedd. 'Or were you asking, "Do I know any demons personally?" The answer to that is no. Demons have e'er been my enemies: the enemies of everything that exists.'
'Um, right. Well… what about the previous intruders who broke into this tomb? Did you speak to them?'
'Ah, the archaeologists and explorers, or so they called themselves? An amusing bunch. Some of them seemed tempted by what I had to offer, but thought it a better use of their time to turn this sacred burial site into their personal playground.'
'How long ago was that?' you ask. 'And… would you mind telling me how many intruders you have seen over the years?'
'No, I don't mind. However…' There is a pause. 'I find it difficult to keep track of time. Perhaps they found this tomb a few years ago. Perhaps it was only yesterday. Whenever it was, it wasn't a long time ago. They were the first living people to visit me since the Forgotten God's priests interred me in this tomb with my eternal jailors.'
'By the way, we met some of your kobold friends. The Explorers and Archaeologists' Club brought them here to be part of their obstacle course.'
'Did they indeed? Was that an act of deliberate cruelty or just ignorance?' He sighs. The air shifts as though a hot breath of wind is gusting through the tomb. 'Nevertheless, I doubt they were any kobolds I knew. Kobolds are the spirits of little rocks and stones. There are plenty of stones. And how long does a stone last? They erode, they crack – their lives and hopes are dashed! – and they crumble to dust. They don't last forever. But there are always plenty more of them.'
You turn to glance at your teammates. 'What do you want to do?'
Venta purses her lips and maintains a carefully neutral expression. 'Can we discuss this outside, please?'
'Might be a good idea,' says Phil, raising an apprehensive eyebrow. 'What do you think, Dory?'
'All right, we'll discuss this outside.' Squinting at Garanhedd's skull, you ask, 'It's not like we need to give you an answer right now, is it?'
'I'm not going anywhere,' he replies.
Before you go, you grab the sextant-shaped cloak pin from where it sits on top of the king's sarcophagus. Leaving the main burial chamber, you return to the room where a flimsy wooden plank is a bridge over a murky pool, in which sickly tentacle monsters sluggishly swim.
'What do you want to say, Venta?' you ask her.
'I suspect that this is another test. The Explorers and Archaeologists' Club deliberately left Garanhedd where he was, as a test for new members, to see what we would do with him,' she says.
'Why do you think they did that?' asks Phil.
'Because they're cruel and selfish and they'd think it was funny if we revived an ancient evil with a grudge against humanity?' she guesses. 'I don't know, what do you think?'
'Is Garanhedd an "ancient evil"?' you ask, frowning. 'He seems friendly enough.'
'Yes, I noticed that. He was polite, friendly, and relatively soft-spoken; he had a sob story to tell and he offered a wonderful reward to each of us if only we would free him.' Venta takes a deep breath. 'However, none of that makes him a good person. Perhaps the Wranni coveted his land, perhaps they had another reason to want to kill him, but there must have been a reason why some of the noblest and kindest gods in Creation – the Forgotten God, Lissa, Strashan, and so on – took against him. They wouldn't have sealed him in an underground prison for thousands of years unless there was some reason for it. What was that? What isn't he telling us? What would his guards say if we asked them about him?'
'Well, there's a way we can find out,' you say, with a meaningful glance into the next room, where the corroded brass bell is hanging from the wall.
'What do you think, Isolia?' asks Phil. 'You've been very quiet.'
'I… um, I don't really have an opinion. I'm feeling overwhelmed by all this,' she admits. 'I mean… gods, demons, ancient tombs where the undead lie sleeping… I never expected to have deal with any of this stuff. At least not yet. Whatever next?'
'And you, Phil?' you ask, turning to him. 'Do you have an opinion on this?'
His smile is edged with malice. 'Oh, I would
love to revive Garanhedd and ask him to kill my old man. But I understand why it might not be a good idea. What if he decides that he wants his ancient kingdom back? What would that mean for the people of Tyrepheum and surrounding lands? And what if he's lying to us to convince us to do his bidding? We've only got his word for it that anything he has said is true.'
'So, we're agreed,' you say with a nod. 'We need more information."
What do you decide to do next? (Choose one)
[] Ring the bell. Rouse Garanhedd's undead guardians. Ask them for their side of the story.
[] Leave the tomb. Confront Simony Bidwell and demand an explanation.
[] Do something else (write in).