And now for Part 2!
Dreadful Tales: A Matter of Discretion Part 2
The swinging pendulum, now tied to the handle of Mr. Silver’s outstretched cane, led them deep into the bowels of Gloomhaven. Ancient stone vaults, built by hands that had long since rendered to dust, loomed above their heads. The Oculatron’s light cast strange, shifting shadows upon the crumbling bricks and thick columns. Rats scurried away from this invasion of their ancestral territory. Following the ever tugging pendulum, they worked their way deeper into the sewers, twisting and turning through narrow and hidden passages, guided only by the warlock’s magic. Brick and mortar walls gave way to rough-hewn stones and architecture that was both older and stranger the further they ventured.
Though they saw and heard no others where they travelled, the signs of others’ passings were evident to them both; discarded modern refuse, fresh tracks, both boot prints and drag marks in mud and waste. There was even torn fragments of clothing, still mostly clean, to be found where it was no doubt ripped from a passing body.
A winding stair carved into the rock itself led them to a passage made entirely of some black, glossy stone that neither had seen before. Mr. Silver’s breath condensed in the cold air, but Lady Brae’s was nearly invisible. Here and there they saw strange characters cut into the walls, by minds curious and alien, judging from the bizarre script.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice quiet and reverent, her fingertips hovering over the writing.
Shaking his head, Marcus placed his hand on hers and pushed it down, away from the markings. “Gloomhaven is built on the carcass of many ancient civilizations. Undoubtedly our quarry hides beneath ruins from before the Empire, possibly before even the Queen herself. What better place to perform his secret and illegal deeds? At least we’re out of the sewers.” He stopped to study the spidery script. “It’s not Alfar, nor Duergar. I must admit, I’ve never seen its like before.”
In the blue light of the Oculatron, the script seemed to move. Marcus blinked, and everything returned to normal. He opened his mouth to speak, when Lady Brae silenced him.
“Did you hear that?” she asked, craning her neck.
He turned from the writing and listened to the darkness. There was no sound but the dripping of distant water. Then he heard it, a faint echoing out of the darkness.
“What is that?” he whispered.
She glanced down the black tunnel. “A scream,” she said.
“Someone is screaming.” Continue reading