Page 89 of Storms & Sacrifice
“They tell the legends of Olympian heroes and demigods.” He begins walking around the room, pointing at different murals as he speaks. “Perseus, Atalanta, Caeneus, Penthesilea... all mortals, all granted unbelievable strength by the gods. Gods the ancient elves communed with using this very temple.”
IthinkI’ve heard the name Perseus before, but the rest are a mystery. As is his plan—what the hell does this have to do with staying on the council?! “...Okay? So what? You’re gonna start praying and…what, ask them to make you a councilman again?”
“Hardly,” Murbank replies after snorting, walking toward the raised platform at the room’s center. “Do you know what this altar was originally used for? The magic that is contained within?”
“No...” I know I’m not smart, but he’s acting like I’m missing something obvious. He alsoreallylikes hearing himself talk. “I thought it didn’t doanything.”
“Of course, that is what the official report was made to say. Both the city and the elves did not want to risk the public learning its true purpose, lest someone try to use it for themselves.” Murbank walks around the altar, staring at the lead box at its center. “You see, this altar is a conduit to the astral plane. The ancient elves used this to commune with the gods and receive their blessings.”
“Fairytales and rumors?!” Glasha growls out to the entire room. “You have all elected to commit treason overfairytales andrumors?!”
“They are so much more than rumors, Ranger Silentfang.” Murbank shakes his head in her direction. “It was my father who pushed for the temple to be investigated. After he learned of its true power, he became obsessed with it. It was not until he shared the information with me and started the Order that we were finally able to discover how to utilize the altar’s power for ourselves.” He pauses, staring at me like he’s waiting for me to askfor more.
“How did you do that?” I can’t help but roll my eyesas I ask.
“Do you know what Olympian altars are traditionally used for?” He pauses, putting both hands on thepedestal.
I shake my head. I’m really starting to get annoyed with all the questions heknowsI don’t have theanswer to.
“Sacrifice.” He grinscreepily.
The word sits in my head for a minute before my eyes go wide at the implication. “Oh my god, you started a cult.”
“Cult is such an ugly word.” He feigns being wounded. “I am only doing what the gods intended, what the temple was built for. They left us all the necessary tools.”
He pauses, bending over to pick up something that was leaning against the back of the altar: a sword still in its scabbard. The leather making it up is rough and tattered—it looks ancient. The grey metal of the handle shines brightly in the light of the room, despite being wrapped in the same old-looking leather.The sword. That must be what they stole fromthe vault.
“What are you going to do with that?” I don’t know why I ask; I already know.
“Finish what I started with my father twenty years ago.” He pulls the sword from the scabbard slowly, leaning the leather case against the altar again when he’s finished. It’s a one-hander, but it’s still pretty large, bigger than any sword I’ve wielded. The blade is wide, curving at one end almost like a scimitar. The metal shines brightly in the light of the room. “This sword is enchanted with many spells of its own, but one in particular works to activate the conduit in the altar. It only requires the proper catalyst—blood.”
“Technically, it requires a life,” Redwish corrects Murbank. “One that is sacrificed through bloodletting.”
“So why Ragnar and Nylan?” The way they’re talking about this like it’s nothing is fucking creepy. “Why wait twenty fucking years todo this?!”
“It is simple my boy: elf magic requires elf blood,” he answers casually. “My father and I attempted to prove that twenty years ago. It was simple enough to manipulate Warhunter into starting his pathetic little rebellion, which gave us the cover we needed to begin ourrealwork. It took weeks to uncover how the altar worked and move everything into place, but we did it. Then that bitch of an elf decided she would rather sacrifice herself than be a part of something great and destroyed everything we worked for. The order lost so many brothers and sisters that day. My father was ready to give up, but I knew I just needed to be patient and the opportunity would present itself once again.”
“I’m sorry,attempted to prove?” I ask, my mind still stuck on one of the first things he said. “You don’t evenknowthat this is goingto work?!”
“We have tested it with human and orc blood.” He shrugs. “I told father not to bother. It obviously needed to be an elf, but he still insisted on trying. We had to wait for the right moment to—”
“Actually, Councilman, I myself have been wondering why you have been so insistent that we usethiself in particular.” Redwish steps toward the older orc, sounding skeptical. “There are dozens of elves in the area. We could have had this finishedmonthsago. Years even.”
“Where is the poetry in that?” Murbank lays the sword back against the altar. “Twenty years ago, that elf destroyed my father’s work! She sacrificed herself to wipe out our movement, and tonight I will sacrifice her son to restore it.”
“Poetry?” Redwish’s voice goes icy. “You are telling me that I have been stuck in this backwater hellhole for over a year now because of your obsession with damnedpoetry?!”
“I think you may want to watch your tone, Brother Redwish. I would like to remind you that we had been prepared for this two months ago before someone facilitated and encouraged the city’s ranger captain to agree to a public battle on top of the vault we were to break into later that night!” Murbank is almost shouting now. “I had the plans in place to retrieve the sword formonths, and you ruined them in a matter of hours! Luckily, I always have a backup plan, even if it did require far more force than I would have cared to use.”
“You are right—the fact that after eight months youstilldid not possess one of the most important components for your plan should have been more than enough to indicate to that you have no idea what you are doing!” Redwish starts shouting himself. “And I would like to remindyouthat the only reason this little shit and his friends were able to enter the temple to begin with is because yourcultleft the entrance wide open for them to find in the first place!”
He points over at the “little shit,” who is me. That does explain why we were able to find the place and get inside so easily. This is perfect though, exactly what I was hoping for. The longer I can get them to argue with each other, the more time I have to think of a plan. Which so far isn’t going so well.
“Who do you think you are to speak to me this way?” Murbank growls, stepping into Redwish’s space.
“Well, I do not know what else to call bunch of fanatical zealots tattooing bird claws all over their bodies!” They’re standing so close they’re almost touching. “Have you beentryingto get us found out, orare you—”
Redwish stops speaking, turning his head toward the tunnel entrance. Several orcs, including Murbank copy him, and a second later, I hear it myself—horse hooves coming our way.Dammit. My stomach is in my chest as I struggle to turn to see if the rangers came back empty handed or not.
