Djinja and the Chalice of Anguish. book 4

Djinja Sat Aug 23, 2008 9:10 pm

It was dawning grey and cold when Djinja awoke in the most excruciating pain he had ever experienced. He could see no horizon, just the bare earth of the campsite slowly rotating beneath him. He cried out in his distress and was answered by Gand's malicious chuckling and the wheezing attempts of Skeen to speak. Flicking his eyes to one side, he saw the hunter suspended from the branches of the withered iron tree by his wrists, which were tied behind his back. Skeen's arms were at a shocking angle in relation to his back, and his legs were bent up at the knees toward his chest. He was gasping with the agony of it. Djinja was in exactly the same predicament and a black circle was shrinking and expanding at the periphery of his vision.

Gand was squatting on the ground beside last nights fire, the satchel between his knees and various items of the altar treasure around him, the Great Chalice standing alone on a flat rock. Skeen's great black boar was lying on it's side with it's feet tied to a short stout pole. Shu'zan, or the one who had played her part, knelt on her heels nearby, her knees together and pointing towards Djinja. She seemed more as Djinja remembered seeing Gand's wife in Desolace. Black hair and green skin, and certainly older than the illusion which had been Shu'zan.

"It will hurt even more when I swing on your legs and burst your shoulder joints!" she said, and laughed malevolently. “We’ll leave the pair of you hanging here to be eaten alive from the feet up.”
Through the hell of his hurting Skeen found the energy to lift his head and spit on her face.
She jumped to her feet, a dark flush staining her cheeks, and stepped towards him unsheathing a dagger.
As she drew back her arm to thrust, Gand called out urgently :
“ Be careful ........ no blood..... ! . NO BLOOD ! “
She had already begun her strike but managed to change the angle of the blade and struck Skeen above the eye with the pommel of the dagger. His head snapped back on the impact and a fine spray of blood flew towards Gand, one solitary drop falling in the chalice.
Immediately a phosphorescent cloud began to form in the chalice and roll out and over the ground and around her ankles. Gand stood up and rapidly backed away whilst his wife stood transfixed staring at the chalice.
“Wo’man!“ he hissed, “What have you done?“
He backed further away to the edge of the encircling vegetation and as he did so figures, indistinct but humanoid, began to arise out of the cloud. Shu’zan took one short step forward and lunged with the dagger but staggered off balance and through the ghostly shapes. She gasped as her right arm was slashed open from the shoulder to the elbow, in the same moment she could feel needle sharp finger nails sliding over her scalp and probing for her eyes. In a screaming instant she was surrounded and torn to pieces, and in her last conscious moment was aware only of an irresistible power pulling her to the chalice. In seconds her shredded body was lying in a mangled bloody heap and Gand had sprinted off into the marshland.

Djinja and Skeen hung in their agony, staring in disbelief at the scene below them, their terror increasing as the wraiths congregated beneath the hunter and stared up at him from empty eye pits. There was a foggy swirling around Skeen and he suddenly dropped to the ground with a winded thump, his unbound arms stretching straight ahead as he lay on his side seeking some kind of relief from his torture. The spectral figures collapsed into the mist which was rolling outwards and downwards, along and into the ground. In moments they were gone and the only evidence of their coming was the disgusting tangle of meat and bone and blood which had once been the wife of Gand The Beguiler.

Skeen lay a few moments more groaning on the ground before staggering to his feet at Djinja's insistent commands to pick up the dagger and cut him down. It took the two of them some minutes of rubbing each others arms before they could begin to think about releasing the boar and collecting their weapons. During this time Skeen would occasionally tilt his head to listen or suddenly stare and frown at empty space.
"WHAT???" he said. "What do you want?"
"I said nothing." replied Djinja "Take it easy now, we're going to pack up and get out of here.” Saying this he lifted the chalice and packed it into his haversack.
"We're not taking that thing," said Skeen in a hoarse voice, "it's cursed!"
Djinja shook his head, "Can you imagine what Vinchaxa would do to us if he discovered that we had found the chalice and then chosen not to bring it to him?"
"Well I will not carry it, keep it out of my sight."
"Don't worry," soothed Djinja, "I will take care of it."
Having packed up their belongings they made haste to leave that place and set off eastwards towards the tavern and the great marsh road which would carry them to Stranglethorn Vale and The Temple of Zanza.

It took nine days travel to reach Yojamba Isle and by the time they arrived Skeen was in a dreadful condition, gaunt and hollow eyed from loss of weight and lack of sleep. His state of near collapse was due to the constant whispering presence of ghostly companions, unseen and unheard by Djinja but distressing to Skeen in the extreme.
"They will give me no peace," he muttered, "always whispering and following, I can get no rest from them, no rest... no rest... no rest." His hands made brisk little washing motions and he could not be still for more than a moment.

Vinchaxa, resplendent in his yellow and red robes, stood by the smoothed off stump which acted as his lectern. Behind him stood the Zandalari Enforcer, a male and a female Headshrinker and some novice priests. Zaneeta stood at the rear, dressed in the grey shift of a Temple serving maid. She slightly inclined her head and discretely smiled, unseen by all save Djinja whose eyes twinkled in reply.

"How now Wolves of the Temple!" said Vinchaxa, standing foursquare with hands on hips, "What have you to tell me of, success or failure?"
"Success Honoured Servitor, we have brought that which you commanded we bring." Saying this Djinja lifted the chalice from his pack and kneeling before the assembly presented it with both hands raised to Vinchaxa.
"Ah!" exclaimed Vinchaxa, as he took it with obvious delight. "The Chalice of Anguish, come home at last."
"Skeen is in desperate condition your Honour" said Djinja, indicating his friend who was kneeling with his head drooping almost to the sand.
"He has been troubled with evil spirits since we found the Great Chalice."
"Did any blood fall in the Chalice?" queried Vinchaxa, "And if so was it Skeen's blood?"
"It did your Honour, and it was, there was a fight and...." Djinja fell silent at the Servitor's abrupt gesture that he be quiet.
"Zaneeta!" commanded Vinchaxa, "Come here." He tilted his head and whispered in her ear, "Now go, run! And why are you not wearing the dress of the Novitiate?" Zaneeta fairly flew to Vinchaxa's hut, her face beaming with hope and pleasure.

"For a thousand years here at the temple, whenever we have strangled a Sacrificial Victim at the altar, we have allowed the dying breath which carries the soul to pass across the Chalice of Anguish." Vinchaxa slowly turned his head to gaze at all those gathered around him. "Some of those souls are captured and held in the Chalice, by Zanza's will and for His own unknown purpose. But if a soul in there can feed on the tiniest fraction of humanoid blood it gains energy enough to escape and proceed upon the next stage of it's astral cycle."
Zaneeta returned, dressed now in the purple and white robe of a novice priestess, her posture respectful and yet more confidant than before. She passed a middling sized object wrapped in silk to the Servitor. He unwrapped it and held out a high flat voodoo mask to Skeen.
"Put this on, it will give you relief until you learn to control what you have gained."
Skeen removed his wolf mask and replaced it with the voodoo mask and was immediately and visibly calmed.
"Thank you Honoured Servitor, thank you."
"Any soul so released owes a debt of service, before it can proceed upon it's journey, to the one who gave the blood. These souls you have released Skeen, and they are of unknown number, will stay with you until their debt is paid. The mage who stole this Great Chalice was foolish and ignorant and belike he poured in half a goblet or so of his blood and could not deal with that which he brought forth. He paid for his sacrilege with his sanity and his life. The Loa is revenged and the Chalice restored. Such is the will of Zanza!“

The evening breeze came cooling across the sea to Yojumba Isle and stirred the embers of the fire around which sat Djinja, Zaneeta and Skeen. Their story told at last the two friends sat quietly as Zaneeta spoke.
"You have spilt blood and passed through flames together, you are brothers now are you not?" As they both nodded their agreement she spoke again, "Then stand above this fire and mix your blood and make the Oath of Blood Brotherhood, that each may know that at the last one life will forever be sacrificed to save the life of the other."
Djinja and Skeen stood opposite one another, the fire between them. Zaneeta took their right hands in turn and with Djinja's dagger slashed the palm of each and caused them to clasp hands thumbs up above the fire. As the mingling drops of blood fell hissing and smoking in the fire she led them in a prayer to the mighty Loa Zanza.
"Blood brothers you are!" said she, "So mote it be!"

The End