After opening the giant doors, the first thing that caught Ethemon's eye was a massive statue, leaving him momentarily dazed for a few seconds.
Amidst a patch of lush, green bushes, a stone-carved figure stood quietly right in the center. Sunlight streamed down from the dome of the sky, illuminating its entire form. While wind and rain had eroded its facial features, they could not touch the serene atmosphere that surrounded it at this very moment.
Ethemon took two steps forward and kicked against something, producing a crisp sound of bones colliding. Looking down, he saw a completely decayed skeleton dressed in the vestments of a cleric. Ethemon cast his gaze around—many more skeletons lay scattered across the ground.
These were heavily armed scribes, yet there was no sign of a struggle. Did they die of some unusual cause?
"Everyone, spread out and have a look around, but don't go too far." Ethemon walked down the inner steps while studying the indistinct face of the statue. He couldn't shake the feeling that it looked familiar; he felt he ought to know something about it.
Reaching the base of the sculpture, he looked up. The stone figure, bathed in light, seemed to lower its gaze gently at that moment, watching Ethemon with deep concern.
An uncalled-for sense of oddity welled up in the depths of his mind. He shook his head and began to examine the stone plaque at the statue's feet.
"Jergal?" Memories surged in his mind, yet they were extremely hazy, leaving him with just a vague grasp of a single title: the Scribe of the Dead.
Ethemon pondered this for a moment, but still failed to recall any connection.
"Ethemon, we seem to have found something useful. Come take a look." Gale's voice drifted over from a side room nearby.
Ethemon walked over to find Gale holding a thick, golden book. A strange lock appeared to be clasped across its cover, yet judging by Gale's ease, he had picked it up without the slightest difficulty.
Gale carefully examined the book, confirming that it was a tome that could only be opened with magic. Channeling his arcane power, he located the arcane runes inscribed upon it, and with a sharp click, the lock sprang open.
A single sheet of parchment fluttered out from within. Even someone without particularly high perceptiveness could sense the magical fluctuations radiating from it.
Gale carefully deciphered the altered handwriting on the page before finally speaking: "It lists the names of the gods—they were lost for a time, only to be restored after the Second Sundering."
Seeing Ethemon's blank expression, Gale chuckled and closed the book. "It touches upon many legendary tales, which would be rather troublesome to recount here. If you're interested, I'll tell you all about it once we reach a place where we can rest."
Ethemon nodded; this certainly was not a good place for storytelling.
"So, that's it?" Astarion asked, sounding somewhat incredulous. "We took the risk of almost getting roasted alive just to find a book?"
Amused by Astarion's indignant tone, Ethemon replied, "Isn't that just how exploring ruins goes? There are bound to be times when you come away empty-handed. Besides, perhaps this ruin was already plundered by someone else first."
"Moreover, we haven't actually finished exploring everything yet. I just discovered a secret door over by the stone statue. Perhaps you'd like to take a look?"
"Oh, let's go then. We can't leave with nothing to show for it, or it wouldn't make up for all the energy I've wasted."
Everyone gathered at the secret door Ethemon had mentioned. Next to the frame was a circular object that looked like a door-opening button.
Just as Ethemon was about to press it, a sudden surge of alertness made him pause. He turned to look at the heap of skeleton scribes littering the floor, clicked his tongue, and said, "Everyone, pick a skeleton at random and stand behind them."
"What's wrong?" Shadowheart asked.
"Call it intuition. I have a bad feeling that the moment I press this, this bunch of skeletons is going to rise from the dead."
Before Shadowheart could offer an opinion, Astarion quickly scurried off to hide in a corner. "To be honest, I've got that exact same intuition."
Some people might dismiss intuition as illusory, but when traveling in the wild, intuition was sometimes the very thing that saved your life. Hearing Ethemon say this, the others raised no objections; each of them chose a scribe and concealed themselves.
Ethemon pressed the button.
He truly was a jinx.
Watching the skeletons instantly spring back to life, Ethemon rolled his eyes—at himself.
Fortunately, this bunch of skeletal frames, which looked as though they would shatter at the slightest touch, were not difficult to deal with—or perhaps the master of this temple had never intended to make things too hard for those who made it this far.
Ethemon pulled an arrow out from one of the skeletons and tossed it back to Astarion. The elf had been sniping away from his corner just now, resulting in heavy ammunition loss, and since they hadn't found a merchant yet, not a single arrow could be wasted.
"Come on, the door's open."
The secret chamber behind the stone statue slowly slid open. The space inside was not large, barely big enough to hold a sarcophagus while leaving a small area for four or five people to pray.
"They certainly went to a lot of trouble just to hide a coffin like this." Ethemon curiously inspected the patterns carved on the stone coffin. The writing on the plaque in front of it had finally become legible: *Here lies the guardian of the tomb; knowledge grants redemption.*
"The guardian of this crypt? Did they really need to build a special burial chamber just for him?" Gale observed the murals on the wall. "This person must have been someone of very high status."
"Click."
Shadowheart felt a twitch in her nerves; she had heard that sound far too many times today, and it never boded well. "Ethemon, Astarion, are you two messing with things again?!"
"?? I haven't done anything yet!"
"My dear cleric, be reasonable. Why on earth would you think I'd go touch a stone coffin that might be riddled with traps?"
The burial chamber was filled with the sound of the two of them bickering. Before the group could scramble to retreat, the tightly sealed stone coffin suddenly shifted, and a withered hand reached out from within. Though the creature still possessed a human form, its entire body was completely shriveled; in its fully dehydrated state, it looked like a living mummy.
Everyone drew their weapons, ready for battle at a moment's notice.
Yet the mummy, newly awakened from its slumber, merely glanced around before fixing its gaze on Ethemon, rising out of the sarcophagus to land softly on the ground.
"You have come before me, fulfilling his word, as ever."
"And yet, to awaken in such a manner is truly an accident."
"I have a question—what is the value of a mortal life?"
Silence. The air grew awkwardly quiet.
Ethemon glanced back at his companions, then looked back at the mummy that was still staring at him, and pointed uncertainly at himself. "Are you talking to me?"
An undead creature that wanted to talk peacefully was far too strange.
"Yes. Can you answer my previous question?"
"Uhm, well, doesn't that depend on the mortal in question?" Ethemon answered uncertainly. He had expected some sort of bizarre trial, but it seemed the mummy was merely looking to receive an answer, with no fixed standard for whether that answer was right or wrong.
The mummy simply nodded, its withered skin pulled taut over its bones, making any expression impossible.
"Very well, I have received your answer."
"We have met before; I still remember your face."
"When the time and place are right, we shall meet again. Farewell." With that, ignoring the stunned group entirely, the mummy strolled leisurely out of the secret chamber, looking around here and there, occasionally sighing at the passage of time with absolute composure.
"Well? Do you know that mummy?" Astarion poked Ethemon.
"I don't remember anything of the sort!" Ethemon felt deeply aggrieved; his memory held zero information about this person.
"How about I rush up and give him a sword through the chest?" Lae'zel gripped her greatsword, looking eager to try.
"If you're eager to throw your life away, I certainly won't stop you," Shadowheart retorted as usual.
Judging that the two women wouldn't actually start fighting just yet, Ethemon decided not to intervene. He couldn't be expected to referee every single time, or people would start to resent him.
Since the master of the tomb had left, Ethemon and Astarion exchanged a glance and tacitly crept up to the stone coffin to take a look.
"Ooh, a major haul!" Ethemon pulled out a gorgeous blue gemstone roughly the size of a palm. Judging by the era of the tomb, it could be considered a top-tier burial offering.
The others began collecting their own spoils, but Ethemon found his attention caught by an inconspicuous necklace left discarded in a corner. The chain was ordinary silver, and hanging from it was a tiny pendant shaped like a skull.
Ethemon picked up the necklace, and suddenly a spell incantation flooded his mind. Acting on impulse, he willed it, and a strange rune flickered into the air.
"Speak with Dead? Why are you casting that?" Gale asked.
"It's this necklace." Ethemon understood its function almost instantly. "You can cast spells just by wearing it. Quite convenient."
The group checked one last time to ensure they hadn't missed anything before heading out of the secret chamber. To their surprise, the mummy was actually chatting with the smashed skeletal scribes.
Ethemon's mouth twitched. "Mister Gravedigger, if you don't have anything else to attend to, we'll be taking our leave." Without waiting for a reply, he prepared to head back the way they came.
"Take the cavern tunnel on the left. I recall there's a mechanism there that lets you climb straight out." The mummy spoke as if mentioning a passing thought, without even lifting its head.
Ethemon raised an eyebrow and looked back at his companions.
Which way should they go?
*Let's just take the way we came. It's a longer walk, but at least it's safe.*
*Have some mercy on my legs; I honestly can't walk another step.*
*Can I really not go and beat up that weird mummy?*
*You're welcome to stay behind and go court death after the rest of us leave, you brute.*
*Want to start something, half-elf?*
Though no one had spoken aloud, seeing Shadowheart and Lae'zel about to bicker yet again, Ethemon hesitated no longer. He made the executive decision: "Let's go. We'll take the shortcut; we've already wasted quite a lot of time here. The tiefling mentioned there's still quite a distance to go, so let's not waste our energy."
With that, he took the lead and marched straight into the depths of the dripping cavern.
The two women behind him glared at each other, walking one in front of the other with Gale and Astarion sandwiched between them.
Ethemon quickly found the mechanism the gravedigger had mentioned. After he pulled it, a rope ladder dropped down. Confirming there were no signs of rot, Ethemon swiftly began climbing. Ten minutes later, he reached the top and pushed open the wooden door overhead.
The world instantly brightened.
A current of flowing wind rushed into Ethemon's nostrils, carrying the fresh scent of trees. They were on a cliffside, and not far away, thick vines hung down, offering a climb to the surface.
Having spent so much time underground, he genuinely felt a sense of displacement, as if returning from another realm.
As he pulled his companions out one by one, Astarion collapsed directly against the stone wall the moment he emerged, not even caring if his clothes got dirty. "Oh, the sun! I finally get to see you again~"
Ethemon observed the position of the sun to estimate the time; they had already spent a considerable amount of hours inside. They needed to hurry to the tiefling camp, or else they would likely be forced to camp out in the wilderness.
He hauled the limp and reluctant Astarion to his feet. "Alright, stop resting here. Let's head back to our previous spot to pack up our gear, and then we can take a half-hour break before setting off."
"Oh no! All I want is to lie down right this second!"
"If you don't mind being carried bridal-style, I can carry you."
"Darling~ come on, I really don't mind at all." He practically draped his entire body over Ethemon.
"How on earth do such a fragile creature manage to survive?" Lae'zel asked with disgust.
"It's a talent, something you simply can't learn, little warrior." Cradled in Ethemon's arms without a shred of discomfort, Astarion smiled happily.
Laughing and joking, the group began their trek back. Having been through several battles together, their bonds had grown much closer. Post-battle bantering was a wonderful way to foster camaraderie, and Ethemon was more than happy to see it.