Grimm continued his vigil over Mirela’s body in solemn silence. Her form was still not cold to the touch, though she did not stir. Her soul was strong, it did not want to let go of this world so easily. He prayed for her strength. He prayed that the agents of the divine might guide her back. He prayed that he might be able to repay her sacrifice. Through the haze of his prayers he heard Xella’s voice at what seemed like a great distance. He only made out the words “…she’ll likely rise…”
Suddenly he sat up in a flash of divine inspiration. He quickly rose and called back to the group,
“I know what to do. Stand sentry at the door. Do nothing to the body until my return.”
Grimm ran to the crypt they had just vacated. The fallen zombie corpses had entered a state of accelerated decay and the smell of rotted flesh was overwhelming. He scanned the floor of the tomb using the gift of his demon sight. The floor was littered with debris and gore…then he spied what he was looking for.
Sitting in a pile of ash was the amulet worn by the creature he had sundered with the blessing of Abadar’s strength guiding his hand. He scooped up the necklace from the pile of blackened ash and eyed it closely. Runes were meticulously carved into the back of the piece. He recognized one section of the scripting as the Abyssal tongue, it read:
“Grigore Arnel my love, you shall not depart my side
Ensnared within my web, your soul it will abide”
The rest of the markings were in a tongue he could not discern. With great haste he ran up the hill to the small wooden hovel, home to the Mortician. Grimm kicked in the door. The small living quarters contained only one room. Grimm saw the pale mortician sit up in his bed in shock and horror.
“Are they here for me, now? We had a deal…..we had a deal!!!” he shouted into the darkness.
“I am here for you” Grimm replied as he eyes began to glow green, just enough to illuminate his face within the dark steel helm.
“S…S…S…Sir Knight, you s…s…scared me, what is the m…m….m…matter?” the mortician replied through a voice drenched in fear. He moved to light a small oil lamp at his bedside.
“What do you know of this amulet?” Grimm demanded as he held out the gold necklace which swayed in front of the Mortician’s pale face.
“N..n…nothing..I have never ss…s…s…seen it before.”
“You lie. Tell me NOW!” and with that command Grimm’s eyes flashed bright green, bright enough to give off as much light as the small lamp and caused the shack to glow eerily.
“I….i….it is an a…a…a…artifact. I…I….It is used to b…b…b…bind a departing s…s…s…soul to this p…p….p…plane.”
“How do I use it?”
“Y…y…you must place a gem inside o…o…o…of the s…s…same color and the f…f…fallen’s eyes….and p…p…place it on the victim…..then…..then a ritual must be….p…p…erformed…..a d…d...dark…ritual….one of the living….p…p…pure of s….s…soul must guide the f…f…f…fallen soul back……that is all I kn…kn…know…please don’t….h…h….h…hurt me…”
Grimm ran down the hill to the small crypt containing his traveling companions. He burst through the entryway and spotted Xella.
“Xella, I know the nature of your power and Abadar does not judge those who do not deserve judgment. I would ask you to use your knowledge and power to call out to Mirela’s soul. You will need this” Grimm reached down into the small pouch pulled from the body of the fallen zombie and pulled forth a small banded amber gemstone. He handed both the amulet and the gem to Xella. I trust you know what to do… I will be the conduit to guide her soul back.”
After he spoke, Grimm reached up and slowly removed his helm. It was the first time he had done so in front of the assembled group. They could see his face, stern, elven with stark, alabaster white skin. His black hair was matted down in sweat and dirt but not enough to cover his sharp elven ears. His eyes glowed faintly green, which cast an eerie light over the determined expression on his face. He set his jaw in resolve and knelt before the altar.
