Scourge: A Shadow Beckons

In the weeks since the initiation of our investigation, progress has unfolded at a commendable pace. Elleshar, a valuable ally, has significantly contributed to our endeavors, and his presence is truly appreciated. I honestly hope that the Sardonians are not involved, as we aim to steer clear of unnecessary conflict. Presently, there appears to be no cause for such concerns.

Merely last night, Elleshar encountered one of the cultists on the streets. His profound knowledge and mastery over Essence provide him with a unique advantage over me and my fellow brethren. Our strategy revolves around executing our infiltration covertly. From Elleshar's prior venture into their hideout, he discerned no wards or alarms that might hinder our progress. The absence of Essence in their sanctuary complicates the Janissaries' ability to detect it. However, it also presents a golden opportunity for us to infiltrate, investigate, and, ideally, put an end to their sinister practices in demonology.

Summoning my communication orb, I issued a directive, "Once all preparations are complete, convene with me at the tavern." A touch of indulgence seemed appropriate as I awaited their arrival. The establishment exuded splendor—elaborate decor, exquisite glassware, and an impressive array of entertainment. The music and dance were exceptional, though a slightly more modest attire for the dancers might be preferable. Nevertheless, the quality was apparent, and the patrons respected my personal space, oblivious to my affiliations and religious background.

Within a mere half-hour, Vescaro made his entrance, a presence not particularly inconspicuous to a discerning eye. It was evident to me that he was meticulously surveying the area, his gaze sharp. Waving to him, I aimed to divert his intense scrutiny that might attract undue attention. The lad was undeniably more talented than me in various aspects, yet he still had much to learn.

"Welcome, brother! Bartender, another drink for my friend here!" I called out in my lively tone.

"The dwarf must've made a name for himself here," Vescaro remarked, eyeing Davorn, who had clearly indulged in one too many drinks. The stout fellow was now dancing on tables, holding onto the hands of the tavern's dancers with one of his own. A name he had certainly earned, though I wasn't entirely sure it was a positive one. Guzzling ale consecutively, he shamelessly placed his face on the bosoms of the women working there. Surprisingly, no one seemed to stop him, and the women, for some reason, appeared to enjoy the spectacle.

"He undoubtedly has. Though he is filled with far too many spirits. I fear he may need an exorcism," I quipped.

Vescaro emitted a rare chuckle, a welcome break from his usual seriousness, which, given his traumatic upbringing, was entirely understandable. Now, Guan entered, skipping about with her infectious smile. She embraced Vescaro from behind and planted a kiss on his cheek. I remained unsure of how the lad managed to win her over; they were, after all, quite the opposites. Nevertheless, I was genuinely happy for them, finding solace in the thought that Guan provided him with the emotional support he undoubtedly needed.

"How'd you sleep last night?" Guan inquired.

"Well enough," Vescaro replied, extending his cup of water toward her, a nonchalant offer she gracefully declined.

"How could you two drink this early? It's barely the break of dawn," she remarked. The boy shrugged, taking another gulp.

"Our Lord turned water to wine. It was for us to enjoy, in moderation, of course. But every hour is happy hour, provided you allow time for it to dilute and avoid impairment," I explained. Guan responded with a playful chuckle.

"Who's going to tell Davorn that?" she teased.

"I think you should do it. You're the bravest among us, and me and Osei are too afraid to take away his elixir."

"The bravest among us three? Some men you two are, letting the woman take the initiative."

"He'll probably hide behind you too when spells start flinging and demons start swarming us," I laughed. Vescaro, indicating he needed a moment, finished what was in his cup.

"Not probably, definitely. She could just nag them back to Hell. I promise it would be better for the demons to be rebuked by the holiest of men than to face the wrath of Guan Fei."

Laughter filled the air. Shortly after, Martin walked in and headed straight to the server, pulling out some coins.

"Get me some sweet buns with a side of eggs. And milk. Chocolate milk," he ordered. It wasn't the norm for the tavern, but we'd been here long enough that they had his request prepared, given the hefty sum he paid.

"You know you could get your order elsewhere for cheaper," I commented.

Martin looked at me expressionless, as if I'd said something absurd. "I like the way this server prepares it. Especially the chocolate milk." He lifted his mug and began sipping it. "It's delicious. And none of you alcoholics can have any."

"We don't want any. As soon as you finish up, we will be heading out," I explained. Everyone we needed for this expedition was present. As valuable as the captain and his group were, they had no place in this infiltration. We would put an end to this necromancy cult before matters got severe. Today, the hunt begins.

We reached the location Elleshar had indicated for the hideout. It appeared to be an ordinary warehouse, just as he had described. No apparent reason to be suspicious—no broken windows, well-maintained drapes and carpets, and people working inside, creating an illusion of normalcy. This, coupled with their lack of wards, likely explained why they had eluded detection by the Janissaries or any similar groups.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Martin questioned skeptically. "The sorcerer could have double-crossed us. You know they can't be trusted."

"Of course, this is the place, brother. You must learn to trust our allies. We are highly trained detectives and are supposed to have good intuition when determining how honest someone is," I asserted.

Martin scoffed. "His powers come from the evil one. If the serpent was able to fool angels into joining his rebellion, how much more could he fool us who are mere men?"

A valid point, but I placed my trust in Elleshar.

"This is probably just the wrong place. We could contact Elleshar and ask him to escort us," Vescaro suggested.

"No, this is it. Besides, we cannot risk Elleshar being seen with us. If we fail or have our identities compromised, we will ruin any chance of re-infiltration by exposing him," I explained. "Just follow my lead."

I walked directly to the front and knocked. Inside, there was some banter, but after a few seconds, a skinny man of average height opened the door.

"How can I help you?" he asked. His tone, posture, and words all appeared normal. If it weren't for my experience, I wouldn't have suspected anything. Yet, something about him seemed uneasy. I sensed an undercurrent of nervousness. This was undoubtedly the right place.

"I await the coming of our father," I spoke. Still, the skinny man examined the four of us anxiously. After a few short moments, he finally opened the door wide.

"Very well, come in. Rashad will show you the way. Welcome to the family," he stated. His demeanor didn't radiate complete trust. A prudent defense for a cult in plain hiding. If there were others who had infiltrated unsuccessfully in the past, killing them would only confirm the hideout's location. I wondered how they dealt with such agents without arousing suspicion among authorities.

Regardless, we made our way inside. Rashad signaled for us to follow, leading us deeper into the compound. I observed the environment inconspicuously. The people on this floor seemed to be working in a warehouse. Perhaps they bought slaves to enhance the illusion and had them supervised by necromancers?

He guided us to the back and lifted a rug, revealing a hatch that led underground. We followed him through, but there was still no sign of necromancy or even cult activity. More storage boxes and more workers.

"Wait here," Rashad instructed, holding his hand up. We complied, waiting while he veered off and disappeared behind some containers.

"Lovely warehouse, isn't it?" Guan stated sarcastically.

"Oh, for sure. I wouldn't mind working in a place like this if I were younger and the wages were fair," I remarked.

Martin looked annoyed. "How could the two of you joke at a time like this? They could be onto us and planning our demise while we stand here waiting to be slaughtered like cattle."

"Quiet. They may have ears, you fool," Vescaro interjected. Finally, another man walked in wearing a finely embroidered kurta and turban. He was well-muscled and had a full beard groomed with expensive oils.

"Well met, my friends. My name is Viknesh. Rashad told me you wish to become part of the family. What brought you to make this decision?" The man inquired. He wore a charming smile that spread across his face as he looked at us. However, I could tell he wasn't merely looking at us; he had been examining us and our intentions.

I met his eyes and returned a smile. "You see what's up there too, Viknesh. The hate, the suffering, plague, famine, war, all of it. All of us mortals can't seem to come to agreements on matters of great importance. People battle over any difference they see—differences such as species, belief, values, all create division among us, and division makes us weak. Unity is what gives us strength. Family erases our differences and makes those who have nothing in common actually have everything in common. It creates an unbreakable bond that can withstand the test of time. This is why we are here, my brother. We seek to build this kingdom and create unity that spreads through all the worlds."

Viknesh's eyes opened, a gleam about them. "Yes! Yes! You see the truth! Welcome, my brothers and sisters! Come with me so you can see the others."

He took us through a room connected to the sewage system through a small door. We crawled through one at a time, but it wasn't a tight squeeze for anyone except for Martin. The scent was awful. They masked the putrid smell of the dead with the feces from the Azaraj residents. It was genius.

Just a few seconds later, Viknesh placed his hands on the sandstone walls, opening a hidden passage that led deeper in. There was a long, dark corridor. Viknesh pulled a lantern from his belt and lit it, providing the only light in the corridor. Insects scurried into the cracks of the walls. Webs clung to the walls and ceiling. Even if someone managed to find the passage, the cultists did an excellent job of making it look abandoned.

We followed Viknesh through the corridor, navigating through turns and stairs—a right, left, left, and descending down. There were other corridors we didn't take, so it was necessary to remember our route for a potential return. Some groaning echoed through the passageway, accompanied by the crackling of joints and chattering of teeth. The smell of rotting flesh grew more rampant the further we proceeded. We had finally arrived at their hideout. Now, the task was to discover how many others they had and if this was the main one.

"Ah, welcome back, Viknesh. And you've brought guests too? Wonderful!" greeted a short, beautiful woman dressed in black with a hijab. Her voice was sweet and inclusive. This is why finding people associated with demonology was so difficult.

"Hello, Syeda, it is good to see you once more. These new guests are here to help the cause and make our family grow."

"Oh, how wonderful! And what are their names?"

"I uhh…" Viknesh looked at us and back at Syeda with a puzzled face.

"How rude, Viknesh! You didn't even ask their names?"

"It didn't seem relevant at the time," he said. The woman sighed in defeat, realizing debating the situation would be futile.

"Very well. What are your names then?" she questioned.

"My name is Ousmane." I gave a gentlemanly bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"And I'm Liu Wei."

Indo approached next after Guan. "They call me Marcus."

"Chad."

The petite woman gave all of us hugs one by one, though only Guan and I returned the hugs to her. Indo hesitantly patted her back as he eyed Guan with a helpless expression. Martin just wasn't the loving type.

"Very nice to meet all of you. Let me show you around," Syeda said.

Viknesh bought up his hand, his voice warm and full of delight. "In due time. First, I want to spend time with my favorite disciple. Come, let us escort them to the barracks together."