"Hilor and the Temple of Decay"

Note · 55 gp · Weight 2

Book Three of the Astonishing Exploits of Venture-Captain Hilor, published by the Pathfinder Society {br}"The priestess bared her teeth, eerily white against the red of her blood-soaked face. The venture-captain took the sword in his other hand and slowly backed away, shielding a nearby crying elf with his body. 'We're going to die here,' muttered this former captive between sobs. 'I see no way out. The goddess has forsaken us!' Hilor took his eyes off the priestess for a moment to glance around. That was all the demon worshiper needed to spew out a curse, jump up, and lunge at him with her corrupted dagger, aiming for his chest. Hilor parried the strike and immediately countered, but the flashing steel barely left a scratch on the enemy's thigh. The temple around them was burning. The other cultists had long since fled, driven by fear, but Hilor and the sorceress's last escape route had been cut off by the possessed priestess. The venture-captain waved his hand, clearing the smoke in front of him, and saw their path to salvation. 'The aqueduct!' barked Hilor. 'Right above us!' Still smearing tears and soot all over her face between sobs, the elf raised her head. Closed troughs ran at ceiling level — mountain river branches that supplied the putrescent gardens of Cyth-V'sug with life-giving moisture. 'We have to puncture it!' The elven sorceress only hesitated for a moment, then threw up her hands, still dangling bits of rope from them. A magical surge cut through the smoke and sunk into the stone, leaving behind a glowing trail. At first, the water spattered out only in a thin stream, and Hilor thought their plan had failed. But a moment later, the stonework gave, and clear, roaring waters rushed from the rupture, sweeping away the smoldering rafters, pieces of roofing, and the shrieking, horrified priestess. Chased by the wild torrent, Hilor took cover behind the altar, after pushing the elf to safety first. 'We're down two problems and up one. We won't be sacrificed, and it's unlikely that we'll burn alive,' — mused the venture-captain, sheathing his sword. 'Now we just need to figure out how to avoid drowning.' The elven sorceress looked at the rapidly rising water. Her lips quivered. 'The goddess has forsaken us. There is no hope.'"