Break 10 - Mortan Osserfid

"An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to before it will explain itself."

The smell was horrible in the sewers, even to the gnome's senses which had grown a certain fondness for the stench of decay that came with the ex-living.

As the half-orc drudged muck from his boots, only smelling slightly worse for the sewers, and Dmitri clawed awkwardly in the muck looking for a bit of magic hidden far below the room they were in, Mortan sat on a bit of ripped cloth from one of the now deceased barbarians' cloaks.

"...I can't believe you sold my body..."

The incorporeal remnants of the the white-mage-gone-mad materialized beside him once again.

"Well, what did you expect us to do? You couldn't be reasoned with. You could have been a powerful ally in life, so now it seems only fitting that you be useful in death. Your life and powers should account for something to fix this mess you've made, even if it is no more than the jingle of a few coins in our pockets. And now, because of you, I'm running around up to my waist in sewer filth looking for the dagger of a Demon-Princess-turned-God."

The ghost vacantly looked at him, through him, Mortan couldn't tell. It was stated in many of his old books that a raised ghost retained much of it's memory being freshly risen, and that that ability would fade over time without a fresh reminder of what it had lost. Mortan only hoped that the incorporeal entity would suffer that fate as quickly as possible.

"...The dagger? Yes... It was found on a historical dig, uncovering remnants of a very old fortress to the north. Master Turillian kept it under lock and key in his study...but once I laid my eyes upon it, I had to study it closer. He could sense the evil in it. He was much wiser than I. It's song was like silk ropes that pulled me in...So I stole it, for the sake of knowledge...or so I told myself. I brought it down here to the sewers. I made a secret chamber in the deepest bowels of the city where I could explore the ancient magics inside the weapon in peace. It was down here that It took its full hold on me. Even the words of my Sword-Brother did nothing to hinder my adamant thirst for power. Gods I was a fool..."

Mortan's ears perked up. Maybe the white mage's words could prove useful information here.

"You were indeed a fool! A weak willed fool clinging to a power you could not understand."

"...Well, once the voice started telling me of its plans, I had no will left of my own to fight it. I thought if I was the one to complete the ritual, then the powers she promised would be left to none by me. She said the blood of six men would mark the six stones. She told me once the seal was broken she would have her body back, and claim back her six ancient weapons. I see now that the ritual was a farce and nothing more than a lure for the likes of you and your friends. Great powers were at play, and like a game of strategy, all moves were planned far in advance. Your friends were part of the game just like myself. We are all playing against a foe that we cannot predict..."

"What foe is this? Are you referring to the black mages that have gained control of the city? The ones hiding their rituals in these sewers?"

"...Of course, the sewers. While I was down here I noticed the increased activity of the black brothers. They came and went in droves, seeming not to know of my presence, or the location of my secret chamber. It would appear I'm not the only one who turned to the undercity to hide my plans. I can only assume the shift in power is related to their activity here. I'm sorry to say I saw little else before I fled the city in an effort to begin the ritual..."

...And back to the Gharlamaal Be Damned fake ritual! But, secret chamber? Here? The thoughts of hidden magics made the gnome's eyes glaze. But also, it seemed that while his memory lasted, they had a guide.

"What can you tell me of what lies ahead, mage? What is that large gruesome noise down the path ahead?"

The mage made a gesture that looked almost like a shrug.

"... I couldn't tell you what that noise is. To the east of us is the catacombs, and further ahead is the Silth Pits. It's the heart of the sewer system. I've never been there..."

"AHA!" Mortan's attention was momentarily diverted as Dmitri yelled, pulling from the muck some sort of golden coin.

When Mortan looked back to where the ghost had been, he was gone...more than likely once again sulking in the Ethereal Plane.