TEMPLE OF KAHOOLI
[ZONE 4] [TOP]
CHAPTERS 1, 2, and 6:
A scream echoed in the temple.
Alarmed, James made to find the source of the shout, but a robed priest halted him by laying a hand on his chest..." Do not be alarmed by the sights and sounds you find in the Temple of Kahooli," the priest said calmly. "Know that justice is being dispensed within our halls."
Still shaken by the sound, James looked to the priest. "What of our request to see the lector?"
"He is busy at the moment," the priest said. "I am afraid he cannot see you today."
Another scream rang through the courtyard.
CHAPTER 3:
They were escorted to the lector's chambers.
Seated behind a large mahogany desk was a man of middle years, the hair greying at his temples, sweeping back from a wide tanned forehead. Without standing he motioned for them to take seats.
"I have very little time this morning," the lector said. "Please make whatever request you have as direct as possible."
"That suits me fine. We're looking for a band of murderers, James said. "They killed a squad of men sent from Bas-Tyra on the First Adviser's orders to in vestigate the possible activities of Nighthawks in Romney. The idea occurred to me while we were standing in the meditation chambers the Temple of Kahooli might know something of it."
"I am listening," he replied gravely.
"When I was studying under Father Timothy in the Temple of Astalon in Krondor," James said, "I learned quite a bit about the various temples and their gods. As I recalled, Kahooli is the god of revenge..."
"Justice," the lector snapped. Not revenge. If one is innocent, he has nothing to fear from The Howler After Fugitives. If one has violated the wise strictures of our gods and eluded punishment, however, we are the hounds that bay at his heels. There is no place one can run to that we cannot sniff them out." James nodded. "A well known fact. But it is also well known that the Temple of Kahooli hires assassins on occasion to do the sniffing."
"If you imply that we hired the Guild of Assassins to kill the men in Bas-Tyra, it is not so. We have had no dealing with the Hawks of the Night for several months. It may well be that we have common cause at the moment." The priest stopped for a moment as if considering something, then continued slowly. "They have become churlish. They no longer follow the codes of piety which we lay out for the behavior of our faithful and they have not paid a tithe in a great deal of time. We wish to separate them from our ranks, but... No protectors of the faith will challenge them."
James leaned across the desk. "I want the Nighthawks, Lector. Tell me the name of the man who leads them and where he may be found and we both can profit from an end to them."
The lector laughed a dark, rumbling laugh that had nothing of humor in it. "I wish that it were that easy. Kahooli, how I wish. But when the Nighthawks swore their oath to the Temple, they required of us a holy oath - to Kahooli himself - that their identities could never be revealed to any that were not of the Temple itself. You would have to be at least protector of the faith before I could even think of giving the name of whomever you seek."
"I see." James sat back in his chair, his eyes full of brooding. "How would we become protectors?"
"You would have to study with the Prelate who lives nearby and learn the codes of piety," the lector said, a clever smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Though I will warn you, his house is well protected. There are many who do perceive us as the dispensers of revenge and attempt to save themselves peremptorily. I will say this - if you can come to the Temple and have performed even one of the acts of piety that the Lector teaches you, I think I can see to it that you a remade protectors of the faith."
"And you will tell us where to find these Nighthawks?" James asked.
The priest smiled. "Most certainly."
CONDITION NOT MET:
The lector agreed to see them.
Sipping from a steaming cup of tea, he looked critically across the desk at them. "The men looking for the Nighthawks," he said. "I am glad to see you once again, but as yet, you cannot be inducted as protectors of the faith," the lector said. "You must perform one of the acts of piety. There is simply no other way that I can help you. The laws of our Temple are very specific and binding."
"Which act would be best?" James asked, at a loss to know what to do.
The lector shook his head. "It is not a question of best or easiest. These things vary from person to person, though many may find that one or another option simply may not be open to them through conflicting oaths or practicality. Again I say to you, go and visit the Prelate. He is the only man that will be of any use to you in this. He lives very close by."
CONDITION MET:
James stumbled.
Cursing oaths that seemed far from appropriate within the hallowed temple walls, he followed the priest robed in light grey. Behind him, Owyn and Gorath seemed similarly pained, but all made it well enough to the lector's study. Pushing their way into the oak paneled room, they took their seats and waited.
In a few moments, the lector arrived, arrayed in his dark robes of office. Looking at all their faces, he nodded with a certain grim satisfaction. "You have chosen the mortification of the flesh," he said. "An admirable act of piety. It is enough."
James nodded. "Good. Then tell me about the Guild of Assassins."
"In a moment." Stepping back to the door, he whispered to the priest who waited outside. Footsteps hurried off into the distance. "Haestan will bring rations for you. You will be of little use against Navon and his band without your strength."
James sat forward in his chair. "Navon who?"
"Navon du Sandau," the lector said, emphasizing each syllable. "He lives here in Kenting Rush, poses as a travelling merchant. That gives him the excuse he needs to cover the strange visitors he has from time to time. He leads the Nighthawks, but the time has come for the end of the Guild of Assassins."
"Agreed," James said, wobbling to his feet. We appreciate your help."
"Wait." The lector leveled a stare at them. "As Kahooli has come to your aid, as protectors of the faith, you must now aid us. It is your responsibility now to slay him. His is excommunicate of the Temple of Kahooli. His life is forfeit."
"You didn't mention this in the bargain before," James said. "Shall we be expecting other demands of you later?"
The priest shook his head. "Only this. You may do as you please thereafter, though I would warn you always to tread carefully from this day forth when dealing with Kahooli. You are now, in our eyes, the arm of The Tireless Pursuer."
TEMPLE OF TITH
[ZONE 5] [TOP]
Battle standards floated over their heads.
Escorted into a room which looked more like a king's banquet hall than a sacred chamber, James feasted his eyes on the hundreds of war banners and shields which were hung on the walls. The room's most prominent feature was a long table which stretched the length of the torchlit hall and was covered with statuettes which looked like soldiers.
A priest sat at the far end of the table, rearranging a cluster of the bone figurines that were before him. Larger than even Gorath across the shoulders, the Father Patriarch looked as menacing a figure as any that James had ever seen.
"This looks like a war council," James observed, noting many of the figurines lay on their sides.
"Of a sorts," the Patriarch said without looking up. Scratching at his grey streaked beard, he moved another piece, but seemed unsure of its placement as if he were moving it on someone else's advice. "Here, however, I merely observe. Others plan this battle."
"Whose battle?"
The Father Patriarch glanced up, his wolfish eyes fixing on them. "Hmmm? This battle? It unfolds in the south of Kesh, near the Confederacy. I fear that the Empress Lakeishas forces are far superior. Her dog soldiers will crush the rebellion soon, I should think."
James nodded as he looked over the lay of the battlefield. "How do you know where everyone is? Does Tith tell you?"
The priest shook his head. "If the war god wished to tell me, it would take all the enjoyment out of making my guesses. I have messengers arriving daily to tell me how things transpire." Thumping the hardwood table with his fist, he looked at another group of figurines and moved to rearrange them as well. "Sometimes I am surprised."
"I see. I don't suppose you could tell us about what the moredhel plan in the North, could you?" James asked, a little nervous about the presumption.
"No," the priest replied. "I would be greatly interested, but all those messengers of mine that I have dispatched to check have been killed. Since I have less priests than I have curiosities, I decided to wait until I had either more of one or less of the other."
Suddenly another priest appeared at the door to the chamber and hurried over to whisper in his superior's ear. Cursing, the Patriarch thumped the table again. "I have other things I must attend to," the priest said gruffly as soon as the other priest had scurried away. "I would offer you some Redweed Brew, but I have none to offer you, so you will have to find some elsewhere. Good day, men."