Well, Jarran is still sulking over Valygar getting so much attention, so I got someone else to talk to me instead.
Jan watched as Jarran sat coughing on the tunnel floor. The skald grumbled, “For a cult, they have a funny way of making it easy for people to join them.”
As he peered into the trapped room, Keldorn said, “Most likely they expect their converts to come in the company of a believer. This gas and the creatures we fought are to keep away the curious and the hostile.”
“At this point, I'm both. Don't look at me that way, Keldorn, I'll put on a good show.” Jarran cleared his throat one last time then stood. “Jan, take a peek.”
“Sure thing.” Jan slipped into the trapped room, then returned quickly. “We've struck gold. There are guards just beyond the door. Time for the big act.”
Jarran nodded. “Anomen, Keldorn, cover up anything that identifies your allegiances. They probably have some sort of magical sight. Everyone else, look interested.”
Minsc grumbled, “Boo does not like this place. There is something he smells that is very disturbing.”
“Kay doesn't like it any better than Boo does. Well, hopefully this won't take long.”
The group approached the guards, all of who had strips of cloth across their eyes… or where their eyes previously were. Blind or not, they snapped to attention at the party's approach. A priest who had been speaking to the apparent leader of the guards turned to them. “Hold, you tread on sacred ground! Only those who serve the Unseeing Eye may enter. I am Gaal, High Priest of the One God.”
Jarran started to smile, then seemed to decide it would be a wasted effort. “I came in search of knowledge of this god and of the service he requires.”
The blind priest gave him a smile that was more frightening than welcoming. “The Unseeing Eye has brought us enlightenment. Only by removing our eyes can we remove the veil of lies and deceit clouding our lives. He is the most ancient and wise of the race you might know as 'beholders'. We servants have flocked to him gladly, and his mighty power protects us. You would be wise to serve him as we do.”
Jan heard a hiss of breath and looked at Anomen in annoyance. Why did he always wind up with pompous prats who didn't know the first thing about blending in and playing a role? There, that priest was looking Ano's way. Hopefully he wouldn't realize the gasp was from disgust.
Jarran hurried on to distract Gaal. “Does that mean this beholder has no eye? Wouldn't it be weakened?”
“Without his eye, the One God is stronger, not weaker. He has made mountains tremble and easily destroyed those fools who have come seeking his destruction. Only those who serve Him are safe always. If you desire this safety, then the unholy eyes are removed from your head during the sacred initiation. If you survive and are proven faithful, the Unseeing Eye accepts you into service.”
Keldorn said in a low rumble, “And if you don't survive?”
“There are those, of course, without the stamina to serve our God. The weak of faith, the meek, the old who are set in their ways…” Gaal's voice had a slightly malicious edge to it. “The bodies of these weak ones are cast into the Pit of the Faithless.”
“I'm not sure if we have the faith to survive that. We are just learning about your god, after all. Surely we could wait?”
“Your spirit is weak indeed. However… there may be a task you can perform while you contemplate the greatness of the Unseeing Eye. There is an artifact of great power in the lower levels of this ancient structure. If you retrieve it, you will have earned great favor.”
“What is it?”
“It is a rod, or rather part of a rod, that you will find on an altar. I will give you a key to gain entrance to the lower levels, and you may walk freely among the believers here.”
“All right. We will get it for the… great one.”
They entered the area beyond the guards. There was a guarded pit, and a strange altar. Men and women with earnest expressions on their bandaged faces were moving in and out of doorways. Suddenly all activity stopped, and the worshippers turned towards the center of the room.
A priest was leading a young man up to the altar. The younger man appeared to be a priest himself, and was wearing a symbol of Helm. The cultist boomed out, “Do you revoke the weakness of the sighted?”
“I do.”
“Then you revoke the false power of sight and the equally false god that you have served, and embrace the true vision of Holy Blindness?”
Jan heard Jarran whisper to Anomen, “Do you know him?”
“Not personally, but I have seen him in the temple. He was ordained fairly recently.” The priest's lips were set in a hard, thin line as he watched the ceremony.
The new recruit proudly said, “I revoke my false worship. Take my foul sight master. Let the orbs and their poisonous sight be torn from my body! Let me be made pure!”
“So shall it be done. Be you pure of intent and you shall live. Cling to the foul sight and you shall die. Let it be done!” The cult priest rapidly stabbed at the young man's face, once then twice. The former priest of Helm screamed as blood poured down his face, and he fell to his knees, clutching his hands over the wounds.
The cultist said disdainfully, “The Unseeing Eye sees that you are not worthy and the blood at my feet proves it. Take him away.”
The bleeding man was dragged to a large pit, and they could hear his screams as he was cast into the darkness. Loud moans followed, then a shriek, and then silence.
“Paladin!” Jaheira hissed. “Shield your emotions. You will give us away.”
With an obvious effort, Keldorn wiped the revulsion from his face. As the knight pulled himself together, Jan said, “And that goes for you, too, Ano. What are you doing?”
Jan had looked around to see that Anomen's eyes were closed and his lips were moving in a silent prayer. His cloak was pulled around him, and it seemed sure that underneath it the priest was clutching his holy symbol.
Anomen opened his eyes and muttered, “It was obvious what I was doing, gnome, and don't call me Ano. Now speak no more of it.”
Jaheira arched an eyebrow. “A prayer for his soul, Anomen? I didn't think pity came easily for Helmites.”
He stared at her coldly. “I do not pity him. To turn away from He Who Sees All to embrace blindness is reprehensible. He was betraying everything that a priest of Helm should stand for, and he deserved his fate.”
“Then why…?”
“Because… because he failed the initiation. I was praying in the hope that his failure meant that he still had faith in his heart. If so, then perhaps there is a chance that Helm can forgive his weakness.”
Keldorn said, “You judge your brother harshly, then?”
“Sir Keldorn, with respect, you are a paladin but you are not a priest. The clergy must ask much of themselves to justify the abilities that our god gives us. Helm has every right to expect proper service and faith from his priests.”
“But priests are still mortal beings.”
“Of course. I make no claim to be free of transgressions, and I bless Helm for his forgiveness. But some sins are too great to ignore.”
Jan snorted. “Could you guys have your theological discussion another time?”
“Yes,” Minsc chimed in. “Boo and Minsc demand that butts must be kicked for these horrors. Boo is greatly troubled that these evil-doers have no eyes for him to go for.”
They left the cultist temple, glad to leave the strange devotees behind them. They explored down the corridor that Gaal had told them about, when suddenly Keldorn said, “Stop!”
Jan, a few paces ahead of him, turned around in irritation. “That's my line, Keldy.”
“There is a great evil nearby. Something…old.”
Jarran peered down the hallway, then nodded. “We'll go slowly, then.”
A bit farther down the corridor they found more blind people. The head of one snapped up at the sound of their approach. “Be wary, my friends. Someone is coming.”
Jan looked at them curiously. The others they had seen seemed to have sight by some magical means, but this group appeared truly blind.
Jarran obviously had made the same observation, and said, “We mean you no harm. Are you followers of the Unseeing Eye?”
“We once were, though no longer. Our eyes were opened to his true intent, if you will pardon my poor humor. I am Sassar, the leader of this small group.”
“What did you mean by his true intent?”
“The beholder seeks a rod of great power. This artifact is so powerful that the gods themselves split the device in two and hid it away. He wants this item badly.”
“How do you know this?”
“I may not look it now, but once I was his high priest. When I discovered his lust for power, I renounced him… and lost the powers he had granted me. Now I am just a blind fool, huddling in rags beneath the sewers.”
“Why don't you return to the surface? Surely you would find help there?”
“Without our sight, we would be easy prey for the predators in the sewers, even going in a group . We have found a reasonably safe haven in this place. We have become skilled at scavenging from the cult, and hunting what small creatures we can find. It has kept us alive, at least.”
“I am interested in hearing more about this rod. We are investigating the cult on behalf of the temple of Helm, and are pretending to be worshippers. Gaal wants us to find it for him.”
“No! The beholder must not have it! My friend, he already has one piece in his lair, if he obtains the other he will be more dangerous than you can imagine.”
“Then we will take you to the surface and tell the temple what we have found.”
“Wait… long ago, we realized that the rod could be used to destroy the monster. If you can get it, come to me, and I will tell you how to find the other piece and kill the Unseeing Eye. Will you do this? You would be saving who knows how many souls from making the same foolish mistake that I did.”
“Of course.”
“Then you have my thanks. You may rest here if you wish. My only request is that you not disturb the sarcophagus in that room. We find it… unsettling.”
Keldorn stared hard at it. “Yes, I am sure that is the source of the evil I sensed earlier. Jarran, we should leave it be as long as these folk make their home here.”
The group decided to have a short rest in a small chamber. Jan was bored and ready to go, but the others didn't seem in any hurry to get moving. The gnome decided that this was the perfect time for a little fun. Anomen was looking particularly glum, and he always made a good target. “So, Ano, do you think Sassar was a priest of Helm, too?”
The squire glared at him. “I have no idea, and I told you before not to call me Ano.”
“I suppose I keep using it because the name sounds so familiar. I remember my mammy telling me a tale of a heavily brain damaged orc called Ano. The story goes that Ano was trudging through the forest one day, looking for bull droppings with which he could stuff his mattress, when he happened across a remarkable scene. A brave and noble knight, Jen the Brilliant by name, fought with an evil giant. Ano watched as Jen slew the giant. Then the knight rode off to save several small children from a wicked witch, also known as a noblewoman, who was attempting to poison the poor dears. Regardless, Ano promptly cut off the head of the fallen giant and ran home to his home in the Dung Orc village and claimed that he had killed the monster.”
“I warn you, gnome, you are treading on dangerous ground.”
“Did I mention that Ano had a nasty habit of interrupting folk? Anyway, the giant's brother heard of his siblings demise and the subsequent display of his head in Dung Town. He caught up to Ano, who was stupidly stuffing his mattress with bull dung, and returned to his cave with the orc stuffed through his belt.”
“Jan…” Jarran said disapprovingly, but the gnome was having too much fun to heed the warning.
“As punishment for his brother's supposed murderer, he tied a porcupine to the orc's head and proceeded to clean his latrine with the makeshift orc brush. Much to the giant's dismay, Ano actually enjoyed it. Maybe that's why the story reminds me of you. I bet you did plenty of latrine cleaning for the Order.”
“Cease your prattling, fool.”
“Come on, Ano. Share some stories of your glorious days as a squire, mucking out stables and shining other people's armor.”
Jan was rather startled to find himself slammed up against the wall, his boots dangling several feet above the floor. Anomen's face was mere inches from his, and the squire hissed, “Don't… call…me… Ano.”
The gnome had never seen the priest's face that particular shade before, but he felt he should brazen it through. “What's wrong, Ano? Did street bullies call you that? Or was it other squires? Sorry if that name brings back bad associations.”
“Just the opposite, you loathsome vermin. There have only been two people who have called me that, and since you are neither my sister nor my… someone I cared about, you have no right to sully those pleasant memories with your drivel!”
Feeling rather choked by Anomen's tight grip on the collar of his robe, he muttered, “Careful, squire, your paly-boy is watching. You don't want the Order to make the wrong decision, do you?”
Jan was surprised to see a look of utter despair come into Anomen's eyes. The priest whispered, “I am not afraid of the Order making the wrong decision… I am afraid of them making the right one.” Then the rage returned to his eyes, and he let go his grip, letting Jan fall to the floor. “Do not pester me in the future, gnome, or our new method of locating traps will be to fling you in the appropriate direction and see what happens.” He turned and stiffly marched out of the room. Keldorn and Jarran exchanged a look, and followed him out.
Jan pulled himself to his feet, and went to sit between Jaheira and Minsc. “That boy is a mite touchy. Shame he can't take a joke.”
Jaheira glared at him. “You would garner much more sympathy from me, gnome, if your hand wasn't on my knee. Remove it if you wish to continue breathing.”
He sighed. “Well, at least you're my friend, right, Minsc?”
The ranger glared at him. “Stay well away, annoying one. Boo has still not recovered from your fiendish attempt to steal him away from Minsc.”
“Gee, doesn't anyone want to be my friend?” Jan said sarcastically.
Jaheira snorted. “And you are surprised by this? You make a truly heroic effort to irritate us all, and you expect any other reaction? Why do you stay, gnome, if you have no regard for our feelings?”
“Why, for the sheer entertainment value alone! There's you and Jarran circling each other like dogs trying to decide if they should fight or mate, there's Minsc over there with the amazing telepathic hamster…”
“A miniature giant space hamster,” Minsc interjected.
“There's stick-in-the-mud Keldy worrying something over in his mind, probably something like whether or not he genuflected deep enough the last time he was in his temple. And then there's our little squire, and I won't even mention where his stick is! I'm having too much fun to leave!”