...there are further oriental ruins still asleep below central Authapis, beneath the Golden Palace of the Night Pearl, entrance to the ancient ash-buried streets of the forgotten city (“Outhapis”) of the elder dialect).  The basement doors have now been sealed since the time of Hyrzu, utmon hegemax, wielder of the spear Anbar, and founder of the An Qi dynasty.

      The patrolling guards will admit no man past the gates that lead to the places beneath the city.

       A couple of interested companions and I escaped notice of the guards of the outer walls  (that alone is worth the telling) and made our way there, conducting many hours of excavation in the level of ancient Outhapis. Here are the things which I wrote down in those years and have kept, and this includes much of the mythos I recovered concerning the cult and other important furthlore…

          They might have spotted us hiding, for we had not taken care to plan our foray. I was on my stomach for a hour beneath a rose bush, waiting for the guard to turn his back. A mouse had begun sniffing, indeed attempting to nibble on my leather boot. The others were close by, their bodies also frozen in stillness beneath the bushes in the imperial gardens of Authapis. They waited for me to cause a distraction so that they might pass by without notice. The mouse got away.

          A gift of vanic wine mysteriously left ‘neath the terebinth late at night always seems to work with guards. As soon as the two were in the soporific bliss we slipped past and finally made it down there. Three of the youths in training, Jethrai, Geodfrey, and Phaedra, were with me. After we found the shaft and sent down a rope, they quickly wandered off, inspired and intrigued by the glorious ruins of foreign antiquity, conveniently forgetting about my command to stick together. Even before I had finished lassoing back the rope, they were all gone off.

           Nevertheless, resolute on properly implementing the excavating, my dwarf-companion Droctulf and I began to search through the quiet subterrene city in the manner prescribed by Duggan.

           I sensed a certain unseemliness in this place, for many had died dreadful deaths here once, as was evidenced by the human bones lodged here and there in the ash like ghosts forever constrained.        

           One could even see the empty hollows within which their bodies had been encased. All evidences of sudden catastrophe were found, the plates still on the low tables, archaeonic clothes left in the corner, bodies still sprawled on couches.

           We eventually came to a place where parted labyrinthine hallways of some grand noble house. I naturally turned to the more easily accessed southern route, which was the direction we needed to go anyway, but my companion held me by the shoulder and said he wished to go a different way.

            “I fancy that the unfound treasury must lie up that passage to the left, let us work our way through the rubble.”

             “Nay, we did not come here for loot,” I replied. “The eldest library is said to be buried in the south, we must go this way.”

             “I think not. Do you not realize how much we could use extra coin?” he asked scornfully, “You saw the chart, how the Lily Vault, the old aerarium, is loaded with so much treasure that the current hegemax does not bother to move it. It is known to lie past these fallen timbers. Come, put up the torch and give muscle to push this aside.” I did not wish to argue it, since the dwarf is no easy-going man, so I began to work with him at this but soon realized it would take many hours to clear that entire passage, not only moving fallen timbers, but walls that had recently caved in.

           I took up the torch. “This is folly,’ I chastised, “it is written that imperial eunuchs already voided that area of treasures long ago. Let us wait and tomorrow we may find the surface entrance to the Lily Vault, though it is no doubt empty.” 

He looked at me with disdain and worldly contempt.

             “All I require is that ye hold the torch and we shall be rich men. What foolhardiness to search out rotting books when hard coin lay waiting. Go thy own path if ye so crave, but for me enough of your scholar’s vanity. I can dislodge these timbers on my own.” At this some natural shame came upon me, and downcast, I thought to go away, but I gave him a final directive.

             “Ye have these two torches. We shall be round back here by a third sand-glass. Do not stray too far afield.’

But then he answered wryly.

             “Good then, agreed...but retain ye thy torches. I need them not, my dwarven dark-vision suffices and there are no grim creatures about.”

I then took heart to warn him.

             “Have ye not read Duggan’s Manual? What does it subscribe as the first rule?”

             “To always carry fire.” He looked at me askanse and gave a sincere smirk, if a smirk could be called sincere. “And that’s all good and well. I don't much cherish the instruction of the Manual of Common Miners, and-   it seemeth thou don't much either, for the second rule is never to separate from thy sole companion.” At this he turned and resumed his struggle of dislodging fallen timbers. I had at least offered stern remarks to him, and a deserved warning.

             “Be yet thou mindful....” I continued...but he paid no heed. I went off down the south passage.

             As I made way, I set in memory some dimensions and here is drawn for thee a chart. (The map drawn by Kruth is lost).

Such is my own testimony of Droctulf’s stubborn ways, typical of dwarves. As for the events which subsequently transpired, the best account has been written by a youth who, while the others were spilt up and exploring other chambers, retrieved and accompanied me instead, and finally aided in the discovery of the lost library.

I have set down here the excellent letter that this youth wrote to the young lady-adventurer Phaedra in later years, an open letter that is also a well remembered record detailing our misadventure. It is much more accurate than I myself could have written:

             “To Phaedra, the lady, a confiding letter from Hanno Escorvus, librarian of Whigg.

             Peace to you and your house. You have asked me, indeed, commanded me, dear Phaedra, to write a full account of what I witnessed during those troubled moments when your brothers, my friends and companions, became lost in the labyrinthine chambers of the Outhapis site.

             You are not seeking comfort but must reckon all the remaining details of what transpired. I will leave nothing out for the sake of sparing you any grief and remorse, since it is the lack of knowing, as you have said, that causes you continued melancholy.

That year staying in sunny Authapis, (there are no real winters there, as you know, good Phaedra, other than rainy months), remember that we were learning Oruscan Greek, old Outhapian glyphs, and Saturnian-Age Latin on the dias of the Emperor, or amid his lush gardens. We also learned the many fine legends and histories of their land. Besides being trained for even greater discipline in war, the most important thing I learned that year was the history of the Dark Shepherd, which, according to many witnesses has never ceased to haunt the minds of men.

             I had reason to suspect that our teacher, Professor Krupt Elonias, (“Krypthel” in our speech, which has been shortened to “Kruth”) was actually the famous Gnome of legend, “Krithusel”. He had taken several trips unaccompanied at night, as it seemed, sneaking to the underground city. Of those secret escapades he told no one, but I noticed how a pile of more and more time-worn books and scrolls kept increasing in our quarters. Let me turn now instead to that evening you wish to hear about, when we caught Kruth tip-toeing out of the guest residence with all his ropes and equipment. we coerced him with promises of honey into taking us into the forbidden underground halls of the archaeonic Outhapis layer beneath the imperial gardens.

             As you know, it requires trickery, stealth, and some strenous crawling, to enter into the underground shafts. Most of us foolishly went wherever our fancy took us. At the same time, the Gnome professor, over some disagreement with his dwarf bodyguard, Droctulf, returned through the old streets and found me back-tracking. Together, using an archaic chart, he determined an area not yet excavated.

             Kruth and I followed the map, and at last came to a corner which allowed us to climb and search through upper layers only some six hundred years old. There I excavated pottery fragments upon which were writ verses of old Authapian poetry, from the An Ru Dynasty period, the earliestuproto-cataclysmicyoccupa- tion.

Together the professor and I searched many chambers, and after much effort had found an entrance never before tried by other excavators. Upon entering we were overcome and astounded by a very large hall with ornate dragon tables and many large bronze books stacked up, as well as crumbled scrolls rolled off everywhere and covered in a mysterious preservavtive dust. The Outhapians were the first to use books instead of scrolls. We had definitely stumbled into a minor library of the ancients, but there was evidence that it had been visited before.

             Now I immediately began sifting through the papyri and old books, and some could not even be touched and they would crumble. I found one handsome old tome of a minor size that was dressed in a most unusual lizard skin cover. There was a strange device on the cover, a woman with wings. Grotesque yet somehow charming, her torso ended in bird’s feet. She was a harpy, flanked by two ornate palm-tree frames. I opened the book which was in writ some archaic Oruscan, and began to speculate on the script. I was unfamiliar with it, and to Kruth, who was examining books on the other side of the chamber, I announced my finding. “Here is one minor codex that’s not Outhapian, some Oruscan derivative it looks like, depicting a harpy on the cover, perhaps it is Mazic, or perhaps...”

Before I could even finish my sentance the Gnome was upon me in the flash of an eye. The book was snatched from my hands and thrown down upon the floor. With unnatural sped the Gnome had crossed the room and seized the text.

             “What is wrong? Why did you do that? Is it not a valuable finding..?” He gave swift reply, but in a somewhat upset voice.

             “You have yet to understand many things. We are unable to discern if any given book is a counterfeit, poisoned with darkness to destroy us.”

             “That is is a madman’s suspicion.” I declared. “What can there be so harmful in any knowledge?”  

              “I will answer thee a little. Allfather punished these people with death by ash, destroying even their culture, but preserving it so that future peoples might remember their crimes. There are crimes of foul thought repugnant to God as well among the races of men. Where there were once stored books and scrolls helpful to both elphim and mortals, in places now abandoned, now we often find books which take only the mere semblance of words of light. If the angels were so slow to discern the lie of Lucifer's victory-promises, how do you suppose we men could gain that power now? The race of gnomes do have some helpful powers. Some other deeply buried books are very dangerous, designed by the infernal monks. Some have magically captured the attention of their readers and not let them turn away their eyes, and those unfortunates, like Narcissus entranced in endless gazing, are doomed if no one is at hand to force the book from their hands.

             “Other gnomes have told me: it is not even so much the peculiar magic glyphs found in these books as it is the power of the feigning words which promise wondrous knowledge to the reader. Well composed words seduce the soul with sweetness. It was some two hundred years ago that we found the poor Gnome Aelfir all shriveled in some dark cave, holding, clutched in his hand, a codex entitled The Shining Thoughts of Arizel, a treatise on how the world is an illusion. That is why we wish that ye read no other books at this time, nor even open one when alone, not until ye have developed an archeologue’s gift. We do develop some limited discernment that may help. We can sense the residual and active presence of both natural and elfic magic, in books, scrolls, rings, wands, swords, armour and such, anything of archaeonic make.”

             “...although professor...,” I whispered with a snappy tone, “you didn't know that this book was one of the mischeivous ones...did you?”

“Books in foreign tongue were not permitted in the period of the first emperor. Therefore it was planted there by some maleficent hand of more recent passage. That book is magical, as the device on the cover suggests, but I could sense no elfic magic. It must be sorcerous. You see, these days, the Infernal Brotherhood, (in their lawlessness), designs such things, but they are enchanted by means of sorcerous magic, that is, unnatural magic sourced in spiritual evil. At this point Professor Eloniah paused and looked at me hard, and realizing that this might be easily forgotten, added:

             “Employ thy mind to forethought on this issue from henceforth... it is an ability ye must perfect if ye wish to prevail.” Now thinking about what the professor had taught, there was something I sensed which was not explained, so I asked:

“Professor, you are a man imbued with magic power by your own nature, and you are a being whose intellect by race is not so weakened by The Archsin, you do confess this true?”

             He nodded to affirm it, and I followed up.

             “If so, why fear some supposed evil left in a book? For evils of mind can only effect weakened intellects, am I not reasoning rightly?” He again replied straightway,

              “The mind of evil hates all Creation and all beings. Let intuition compensate for your blindness to things of the spirit. Sorcery is spiritual in its source, not truly magical, although it has assumed the name “magic” for the sake of attracting new initiates. when it takes the form of intellectual deceptions in a codex, the target is any soul willing to dismiss scruples, and this includes we who are elphim, because although we have fully operative intellects, these minds are nevertheless still in need of becoming “more perfect” as it were. In other words, they are imperfect. Although our intellects will not consent to falsehoods, errors may be mistakenly accepted. This is like a contagion which can spread and effect the entire system of knowledge, as it already has done with certain elphim, the ones who finally went over to the darkness, the Baalites.”

             I now began to realize that this diminutive professor was far more subtle in his systematic-madness than could be easily grasped. we continued to peruse through the books which were lying scattered here and there from a tumbled bookcase.

             The gnome-professor recovered something terribly close to what he had craved. The discovery suggested that he was near to the much more rarely accessed Library of Shining Papyri submerged somewhere under the Temple of Inscriptions. The artifact was a Late Authapian translation of the first volume of The Black Book, rather incomplete and half burned, but he recognized it and explained that during the Authapian period it was popular to write prose renditions and synopses of the archaic epics, many of which in their original form were presented in The Black Books. Some of these described in detail the campaigns of Hermius the Conqueror, emperor from an era in time a thousand years or more ago, years which the gnomish professor had slept through. Men had told him that the heroic conqueror had made a great impact on all Illystra. Most importantly, the fragments gave detailed hints of the whereabouts of Hermius' legendary tomb.

             Hermius was an Oruscan who had actually conquered Authapis and Urguard, as well as many other lands, but even those whom he forced under his dominion reverenced him, afraid he were a demigod. He piously refused such adoration.

             The half-burned tome had been stored in a vault almost on top of the older buried city, so that no human would be able to ever discern its presence. Lowering ourselves down, I sat upon the fallen capital of a colossal pillar, its barrels below me which had tumbled through the ceiling of an Outhapian villa. My deciphering was slow and I did not manage to translate much of the text because the Authapian glyphs were elaborated late stylization that obscured the meanings. The thrill of fetching such a rare text brought me to stall in that dim ruined chamber for hours and look over the many fragments. We began to place the loose pages already scanned in the Professor's leather case. The professor remarked:

             “All the old place names cited are so unused as to be lost to recognition. Let us finish the reading after returning to the surface and gaining access to the antique maps stored in Authapis' Imperial Museum of Hummingbird Nest. You will learn more another day.”

“But stay, Lord Professor,” I said. “A great deal of knowledge is now open to me, since I have learned many of the archaeonic tongues... it’s just a matter of time before I can touch the power of the Ammouric mysteries and the deeper knowledge!”

             Then, as if a prophet, he said:

             “Overzealous thirst for knowledge may overcome thee and ye will be tried severely. ThemwayoofotheoAmmouriggrasp notoafter power. Here is a doctrine the human spirit does not easily accept. You must learn from the Ammouri a way beyond what the mind can assent by reason. The mysteries must be infused into your soul by metaphysical light. For such a thing you are not yet ready. After you complete your education under my tutelage, you must seek out an Ammouric selva.”

             “But how? ...and where shall I find him?” I asked.

“I cannot say. One must never disclose the location of a selva in these antichristian times, not in conversation, for their employment is so cherished a thing, and the enemy sends spies who ever are harkening. Think of how, even down here in these lonely places, the enemy passes through and plants a Narcissus text for you. When the time comes and I see that you are ready, and when your study of the archaeonic world is complete, you will know the way and learn the deep meanings of scripture. But it is not yet.” 

             So he spake and I dared not question further. We returned to the examining of various texts. The passing of time had eluded us and suddenly I realized that there had been some sort of shuffling noise which I assumed was a rat at first, but had been increasing for some lapse of time.

             “Do you hear that... professor?” I whispered. He stopped and listened for a few moments.

             “A few rats probably,” he replied.

             “Even that theory is little comfort, if it be correct. As for me, I do not estimate that it sounded as rats.”

             “Look here” said the professor, opening to an illuminated page, “...the description and drawings of the old Eldark priests preparing the royal tomb. It is stupendous, since it seems to confirm whispered rumours that the Eldark were sent east into distant Anshan at a very early period. Therefore extremely pristine Ammouric scrolls do indeed lay down here, and these would fill in many historical holes of time in Olusius’ Chronographia or even The Black Book.”

Now I could barely translate the ancient script, since Outhapian was a langauge I had only just recently undertaken to study. The professor and I had to concentrate on the strange syntax so deeply that we barely spoke to each other for a whole sandglass as we sat on that massive capital. My arm grew weak holding up the lantern. The professor finally closed the book and we were about to jump down and continue searching for the older library. I leaned slightly forward to check below.

             Almost like it had been there all along, I spotted something there beneath my dangling feet. At first it was so alien in appearance that I could not declare it. In the crumbling chamber, only a few measures under that grand capital, by the overhanging oriental volutes, was a huge set of dark brown insect claws. They were massive and serrated, slipping quietly through the old ash-hardened air.

I was in dread. I simply put my hand on Kruth's shoulder, for he was looking after his bag and had not yet noticed it. He then gazed over to where I had been staring.

             “-not a movement;” He whispered. My feet being but inches from the bulbous head of this eerie mammoth bug, I watched it move. It went deliberately and silently through the subterranean environment, hunting with certainty and precision. The creature must have picked up our vibrations as we had been shuffling about. This was a truly alien looking beast, and now it was passing right under my toes. I suspected it was no use to fight it, for even by the look of the thing being similar to those minor ones of the surface, that I must not budge at all. As the professor indicated, don’t even breathe with anything more than slight. Were I to, say, unbuckle my dagger, this Mantis would turn its head one hundred eighty degrees, locate me, and snatch me up lightening fast as if I were a little mouse. They do not merely feed on other bugs. Indeed, I must be as still as an angel. I recalled how as a boy I watched the terrestrial mantis, the lesser green mantis of gardens, prey on a much weightier catch than itself, on a mouse!

             So sat I there on the pillar for what seemed an eternity and held the fragments in my hands while the mantis below had stalled, ready to pick up another vibration. Kruth could not snap his fingers and use some Gnome trick now. I did, perhaps unconsciously, move my lips ever so slightly and let go a prayer to Allfather. Then the mantis slowly began to move away. Nevertheless, we had to sit perfectly still for almost twenty breathes before he moved out of the room, and after that we stayed motionless some twenty more, lest he pick up our vibrations and pinpoint our location.

 

                                                  MANTIS Superiora

(mantica nobilis): An enemy of the giant spider is the giant mantis. These graceful creatures are golden in luster and seem too be in a posture of prayer. Hence, since they are natural animals of divine craftmanship, they are a sign for the faithful to persevere in prayer.

          Unlike other insects it can turn its head, and this is thought to be a sign that they are given some sort of intellect, and so it is proposed that they have their own goodly writings which are hidden away. A truly primordial creature, these old ones has some uncanny power of prophesy, and often, if ye are not accompanied by arrogant tomb raiders, these may point out the way which ye should go to avoid evils.

          Unlike the green mantis which is corrupted with a greedy desire to devour their mates’ heads, these golden creatures are virtuous. Truly, if there is one in thy company who has committed some grievous sin, the mantis will be able to divine who it is, and will attack him or her, not to kill the fool but merely to chastise, thus ye should wait until thy naughty companion has endured a good beating, and do not interfere. The golden mantis seeks to drive him to repentance.

Do not confuse this super mantis with the dark mantis or anthreg. These are a kind of huge mantis-like creature that strike successfully upon any underground passerby, for the anthreg are dangerous hunters with razor sharp forelimbs which do not assume a posture of prayer, like the mantis, but to reach out and seize their prey. They sometimes are difficult to spot because their colour may conform to the surrounding, just as the common green mantis magically disguises himself to feign as if a leaf. These monsters are unnatural, and a sign of the Montanist Heresy, because like the Montanists of the ancient world they claim the ability to prophesy through prayer, but it is only the work of the evil spirit attempting deception, whose goal is to capture souls and devour.

 

Now I became very concerned about my companion excavators who were unarmed and exploring other parts of the ruins.

             “Indeed,” whispered Kruthendel, “we do not doubt that this place is also home to a Dark Mantis. This one is huge, the kind commonly known to dungeoneers as Anthreg, which, as ye recall if ye heard any of the Illystran epics, once pursued the indolent prince Synostochs in the time before the youth turned over his soul to evil... It was the same hour that he dislodged the accursed sword Elmethodon and so prophesied terrible things.”

             So sat I there on the pillar for what seemed an eternity and held the fragments in my hands while the mantis below had stalled, ready to pick up another vibration. Kruth could not snap his fingers and use some Gnome trick now. I did, perhaps unconsciously, move my lips ever so slightly and let go a prayer to Allfather. Then the mantis slowly began to move away. Nevertheless, we had to sit perfectly still for almost twenty breathes before he moved out of the room, and after that we stayed motionless some twenty more, lest he pick up our vibrations and pinpoint our location.

             Now I became very concerned about my companion excavators who were unarmed and exploring other parts of the ruins.

             “Indeed,” whispered Kruthendel, “we do not doubt that this place is also home to a Dark Mantis. This one is huge, the kind commonly known to dungeoneers as Anthreg, which, as ye recall if ye heard any of the Illystran epics, once pursued the indolent prince Synostochs in the time before the youth turned over his soul to evil... It was the same hour that he dislodged the accursed sword Elmethodon and so prophesied terrible things.”

             The professor had supposed that these underground chambers were not dangerous because, as he explained in a whisper-

“There were never any hazardous reports about the place from dungeoneers or interrogated bolgoth, and it is not known to be connected to the Underdyrth.”

             “Still,” I added, “should we not have armed ourselves regardless, for no other reason than that the city magistrates of Authapis and Urguard had long ago decided to seal the entrance.”

             “Experience is an indifferent instructor. This may be the work of Arizel. Perhaps you are right. But come, let us make haste now and warn the others.”

             We left several important books on the fallen capital for being large and heavy. we had to evacuate that chamber quickly. we jumped down to the floor below, rushing off to find our companions, for it was a sure bet that other hunting beasts might also be in the area.

While making way through the various crumbling and broken hallways of an archaic buried palace, I often glimpsed the ceilings and walls, noting the admirable daedal work of the decorations. At the same time I employed a keen eye for the dark mantis, which often folds itself over a doorway or hangs from a ceiling appearing as broken wooden shafts and such. I did not ever spot him, but while at one time I was paused, I noted well that the shadows on the walls in diverse places did seem to shift in most unusual ways.

             Thought came to me to bring forward the torch and steal a closer look when we suddenly heard an awful cry. It sounded like the voice of Droctulf our own companion, the noble dwarf. we ran through several broken down areas and had to break apart some rotted doors and kick in walls to get into where he was located. Meanwhile I wanted to start kicking myself. we should never have separated from them,

             “I should have known better,” said Kruthendel as we maneuvered through in the dark rubble and fallen shafts. “I guess the fascination of the place just got better of us, like children who run amok in the market place. Dungeoneers should especially never separate from the group, let alone one's own battle companion.  Let this be a warning to thee, dungeoneer, never separate from thy companions or let them split up. I had taught to always go in twos or threes with always at least two battle hand. I should have taken more pains to describe why. My own partner and I fancied we needed no safety, so experienced were we...”

             The screaming continued, and when finally we reached Droctulf he was in the dark rolling on the floor tearing at his body in horror crying:​

             “Get them off!” I fumbled open my tinder box and re-lit the torch. Under his skin on his limbs and other places were large lumps of something moving   through his flesh.

Now in this hall I detected the stench of some rotting flesh about the place, and there was in the corner a massy lump of hairy flesh, the remnant of some underworld beast no doubt. Geodfrey and Jethrai also appeared and they now came crashing through a door at the far end of the room, one holding torch and the other some sword he had found. Both were ready for action.

             “Come,” I yelled, and holding high my torch we looked down upon Droctulf who was helplessly tearing at himself. The Gnome examined him and announced that the dwarf had been infested, “Hell-Grub.” He said calmly, as one does when doom is near. “Tear off his garb...hurry!”

             Much time was wasted at tearing off his cloak and removing his chainmail, especially his several belts of leather, for we could not find the buckles...and Kruthendel feared that “the grubs may be too far buried in his skin to hit with fire. when Geodfrey and Jethrai had finally secured a steady grip on him, the Professor turned to me and said:

             “Hanno, you must learn this, you will preform the surgery and the cauterization. The larvae must be burned out using both a knife and the torch, and it must be done with all sped. Watch how I do the first one, the one lodged in his chest muscle. Always get the ones closest to the heart or intestines first.”

He began slicing open the bulge of Droctulf's chest. Blood ozzed out and revealed the grey larva. The dwarfconvulsed violently. Professor Eloniah bellowed at us

             “Now…hold him down! Ye must use all your strength, he is a war-hardened dwarf!”

As soon as they, after some struggle, got a stern grip on him, the dwarf clenching his teeth said, “Go ahead with the blessed fire, and do not be moved by my outcry.” Kruth, holding open the wound with his knife, said:

             “Now, Hanno, place the torch athwart the larva and burn it well.”

I singed the dwarf's very flesh with my burning torch, “Be still, noble lord!” Kruth yelled at him, as his tears of intense pain started streaming. “Anchor thyself now in faith or they will soon eat their way into thy innards!” with his skin horribly burning he now screamed the more violently, but did obey and hold still and not fight overmuch against the grip.

             “Furnish this rag into his mouth” Kruth ordered Geodfrey, “....there are four other worms still gnawing his flesh!”

Droctulf kept making muffled screams even with the rag in his mouth. The first grub I burned out was on his pectoral muscle and no doubt was gnawing away at the muscle tissue in order to make a nest. This was very difficult because his beard and head could easily catch flame or be burned badly with my hot tool. I did command Geodfrey to hold back his head and beard while Jethrai tried to control the spasms.

             After we burned out the first worm under his ungodly screams, I began to dread, for I now recalled the grim insect that I had seen hunting not far away, who surely would hear us and surely would come. Kruth put his nose right in Droctulf's face and eyed him fiercely, and shaking with anger said:

             “If you do not cease your bellowing we are all going to perish, there are worse creatures in this place that I have seen lurking not far. Bite the rag, keep quiet, and take the pain....!”

The torturous fire I did not ease up on, but made sure that each grub was throughly burned and expelled from the wounds. It was terrible to watch the roasting of living tissue.

             “This is much otherwise than the study of philosophy!” I remarked. Droctulf was in such wracking pain from both grubs and fire that he passed out after the cauterizations. we poured the fill of my skin, full with warro Port, on the wounds.

             Now when we had a chance to rest, we scanned about that hall for more of those horrid flesh-eating larvae. They are grey with white stripes and are big as a man's thumb. The hall was hexagonal, about sixty by ninety feet with shattered walls and ash flows which had poured through here and there. The high ceiling was intact with four archaic style hexagonal semi-domes. The carcass that had been rotting in the east corner of the room one of the boys did approach. He did this in order to investigate with torch light upon the subject in question.

“             Jethrai,” the professor whispered loudly, “Stay there...proceed no further. We do not need another problem.”

I grabbed the torch from him, “Keep ye behind me, the rot-worms nest here, and these will leap through the air upon your flesh if ye go to close.”

​

                                                          TYRANNOVERMS

(tyrannovermis carnophagus horribilis) shamir. A most horrible danger to thy human flesh, these creatures dwell on ceilings or walls or in pit traps awaiting, always being proximate to decaying remains. These are fantastic creatures, nauseating to behold, grub-like feeders which gnaw any meat. They are considerably larger than terrestrial worms....and can hurl themselves from a carcass into the air several feet to land, borrow in, and devour your own living flesh, speedily corrupting under the muscle. In the Authapian tongue they are called Orboch and the Regulians call them Tyrranovermes. Guy of Xaragia lists them as “Rot-grub.” If one sees worms or maggots persistently in dreams, it means that you are under grave sin.

If the adventurer finds one or several of these dining on him. Let him be held down while ye burn the nasty things out with a firey brand. It is the only way. His skin will be charred, but you shall save his dear life, for they commonly burrow into some vital organ after short passage of time. Some of these are larvae and later mature into the Gohhan scarab, a horrifying beetle first used by the Pharoahs of Succon and the Kings of Atalur to terrify prisoners. At some point a new breed arose that sought after living flesh. They quickly find the heart of the victim and make a nest. Certain tomb raiders have on occasion entered the floating pyramids of Sarnas (the pyramids do not really float, but this is the result of a mirage). They say that those scarabs move fast, hunting in vast swarms. The only way thou may avoid this evil is to flee and not look back. These creatures are a horrible relative of the bookworm, which devours true knowledge recorded in books and replaces it with something unreadable. Instead these tyrannoverms are punishment for the sin of the gnostic heresy, being carnal disguised as spiritual, and hating the human spirit they aim to destroy the heart. Wormlike and asexual, gnostic doctrines enter even under the skin of the interior life and devour the spirit ravenously from within burrowing a complex of wormholes that are its mindless mythologies.

 

             We slowly moved forward in darkness with the torch held high and saw the rotting and swollen corpse of a sizable Ogre. This giant had obviously been living down here and become infected with the hellish Grub or some other malady. Some Ogres cannot deal with the pressures of tribal life or suffer exile and go off to live alone in remote caverns and underground chambers, living off of rat-meat.

“What sort of man was that one, so strange like I have not seen?” Asked Jethrai from behind my shoulder.

             “No man was he,” said the professor. “These kind ye have heard of in fables, called Ogres, a type of Baalite, who, were he alive, would with solitary hand reaching far and at one blow have finished you. Don't get ye too close. within the corpse is a nest of larvae. Thesem ogres are huge oversized and massy manlings of profound stupidity. Note the small head and little black eyes and pointy teeth. They are the strongest of all races save for the giant. They live like early cave-folk and hunt in the open forest, lodging in open mountain hollows or ruins. Most of them fight with tooth-rim clubs or primitive stone axes. A hit by an Ogre so armed will likely kill an armoured human, sending him flying into the ruptured air. They are a great vexation in combat and the challenger will need to rely on speed and precision. Arrow shots do minor damage unless there are many. When confronted by these sort, aim thy axe for the head, since cutting open the body does little good when they are raging. They are poor hunters but must rely on other creatures to take care of them, notably goblin and bolgoth, who use them profitably in war. This one living alone may have grown weak and died.”

             This was a most disagreeable sight, since many Hell-grubs had taken up their feasting upon his flesh and were working their way about the walls as well. “See all those vile grubs feasting on his carcass? Were they not awful work to burn out of Droctulf? You must beware of their presence.

             And now boys, take a close look and remember this sight, horrid that it is. It will teach you a lesson in the dangers of my sort of librarianship. Yet for you what is of greater import, that ye ponder also how all flesh has its final end in this way, as delightful feast for lowly worms

             Even your own flesh must someday be thusly left to such grubs.”

Then Geodfrey asked, “And what about you, professor. Someone said to us before that you, a Gnome are not mortal, do not die.”

So Professor Eloniah explained.

             “That is not entirely the case, but I have lived long enough. Not all Gnomes be not subject to the law of death, but may shed this frail flesh at a time of their choosing, as easily as one sheds one's clothes before sleep, like natural beings. You see, Gnomes are not required to exact what is due for the Archsin, like you humans. Allfather created men to become like him, supernatural. Nevertheless, Gnomes and all elphic beings can be torn by violence, and this material vessel, these bodies, can be destroyed. In ages past our race was given the choice, that if we wish, we can imitate the Furth High King by dying in the flesh like he did. That is the choice we were given. Many pious Gnomes accepted it, but not all. Some of them imagined they could remain neutral, but self-willed they instead have gone foul and become mischief-workers.

             Otherwise Gnomes do live much longer than ye humans. I am already six hundred of solar years. Albeit, but in every other way we are men. Therefore are we susceptible to fear as well, for we can die early by violence.

So reckon ye now by how much sooner in time thy own human flesh must end thusly, for thy span of years allotted are but fewer than mine by far. Know thou therefore that living according to the flesh can not but frustrate your spirit and doth betray thee. Earthly pleasure enticeth men into morbid dreams and the confusion of terrestrial fantasies.”

             Geodfrey then asked, “Professor, excuse me, but I am wondering whether you are under some error. Truly spiritual people need not to spend great labour in exercise of renunciations, forbidding the earthly joys and comforts, but these delights are to be craved in every way, which I shall attend. For it is taught in scripture, “I come to give life, and that more abundantly.” How therefore can men shun pleasures, there being so many and varied which the Creator saw fit to provide. Consider also that some pleasures cannot be avoided, such as eating or bathing. Faith should not become hinderance against these delights nor should religion become a burden too heavy.”

             I was shocked to hear these novel and absurd notions, yet also true things, but turned against the faith. I should not have been surprised, since the teachings of the Red Ascetic had long filtered their way into not only schools, but even monasteries.

 Jethrai frowned and said: “Geodfrey, you are hurting my ears!”

So Kruth added-

             “You misapply the words of our Lord, Geodfrey. Your former teachers must have given ear to the heresies of the Red Ascetic! Thou knowest better. Look again, see how the flesh ends, food for worms! The many pleasures were created by the Allfather for passing usage in this life, indeed, but not so to live for them. The human will has been corrupted by the Archsin and does not govern the flesh rightly. You must practice temperance lest desire for greater and greater pleasures overcomes your soul and you are lost, giving up all rightness in exchange for passing comforts. True, you cannot easily evade the gladsome things Allfather has made, but dare not misuse them or covet them. The Lord spoke of spiritual life and spiritual abundance, not carnal. So fortify your spirits with Truth instead, with scripture, that when the time comes, your treasure will be heavenly, not earthly, free from worms such as these. Hark, ye are warned.”

Kruth gave him a stern look, perhaps in hopes that some fear of higher wisdom might be set in Geodfrey’s undisciplined mind.

“So lads, we had best leave this place now, get Droctulf to his feet and let us find thy elder cousin Phaedra, for she must have heard the outcry. why did she not come along? we must retrace the way to the entrance. These halls are more perilous than I imagined.”

Droctulf, being burned in several places and bandaged, was sorely overcome and could barely move from the corner whither he had fled to in order to escape the grubs. When we finally lifted him up and Geodfrey and Jethrai had put his arms over their shoulders for a support, Kruth dumped the rest of the port down the dwarf's gullet. we turned to exit the south door.

             Something did not seem right to me. There was some sort of change in the position of broken down timbers.

             “Wait, let me check out the next room first. we did make some excess of noise, and I did spot something earlier.” I brought the torch forward and looked over the fallen beams. we surmised that it was safe to proceed. we entered cautiously into the anteroom and looked around.

             “Nothing… fine: we can go. There are no bolgoth in these parts.” A moment passed and Jethrai asked an odd question,

“Professor, what is that wood that moves on its own? What thing? Be it alive?” I turned around and there was Jethrai staring up at the huge mantis looming above and behind us. It was perched on a wood cross-beam, frozen still in position ready to smite. Jethrai was right below its deadly forelimbs.

            “Away!” Kruth yelled. We dashed away but Jethrai was slow and confused. The claws of the creature seized him and jerked him backward as the with great force lifting him from off the floor.

All I carried was a dagger, but fortunately Geodfrey had strapped on an old Outhapian sword of greened bronze he had fetched out of an old armory.

            For a moment, paralyzed in fear, Geodfrey just stood there. He did not comprehend what was transpiring. He had never imagined such a beast. The Anthrag began to nibble on the bleeding boy's head when I dashed toward it and struck it in the forelimb with my dagger. I would have smote the head but the mantis was much taller. It brushed me aside with one of its limbs and I was hurled against a wall. In the shock I saw Geodfrey edge towards the creature with boyish restraint. I bellowed out to him a warrior’s exhortation-

“Geodfrey, remember the stock and noble strain from which you are come! Do not let your companion be devoured!” At this Geodfrey seemed to ponder a moment and then rushed in recklessly swinging at the huge insect. The mantis noticed how his fine dining experience was being rudely interrupted by an uninvited guest. Turning his head he put down bloody Jethrai and smote Geodfrey with one of his mighty forelimbs. The expert hit wounded Geodfrey enough to send him to the ground.

            Then the mantis again picked up Jethrai as if to resume his meal. It began to move backwards, retreating into the foul room we had just come from. The mantis took off, and very swiftly too, about as fast as a man can run, slipping through the east door with Jethrai in his great forelimbs.

            Now we needed to make a decision. Should we split up and one follow after the beast while the others stay with Droctulf who was still in shock and could barely move from his extreme wounds, or should we all all go together? Now splitting up would not be so ingenious of an idea, but Droctulf could not keep up. Geodfrey at least had a chance of catching the animal since he was lanky and a swift runner. Professor Kruth looked at Geodfrey and said:

            “Give chase. run down that beast and strike with fury. Go now, endure not thy brother to be thusly lost. Be swift of foot before it escapes...”  He turned and running off the professor added: “Strike thou the belly!”

            Geodfrey disappeared into the dark seeking his dear friend, brother, and companion. That was the last we ever saw of them, for those ruins are vast. The dwarf, the professior, and I waited many hours for their return. Hours turned into a whole day.

            Lack of food and water forced us to leave. My worried imagination painted many pitiful scenes of their demise. The lads would not be found, for this underground city was in extent as Regulum. Its lower tunnels connect to the intermundane world. we even risked our position by calling aloud for them. we heard no reply.             A great sadness soon now would overtake me and would not pass for many months.

            And you, Phaedra, who had missed all this battle, finally did hear our calls for you in those dark places. You finally found us. Asking for your brothers you became very upset, as you must recall, for you had been assailed by large rats and had great difficulty beating them off. The news of thy brother's disappearance upset you even more. Professor Eloniah had warned us all of the extreme risk.

            We told you that thy cousins had sped off after some animal in the shadows. You were not at that time capable of hearing the full account. Even so, days later I did divulge to you the entire mishap, which you have made yourself forget.

            It took much effort for Droctulf and I to convince you that we could not go on at this time. We urged that, at least for now, you must commend the souls of your kin to the good Lord.

You wept much and threatened to remain alone in the ruins. About the possibility of going on a rescue mission, did we not promise you that Kruth would question the various dungeoneers with whom he had acquaintance? I knew any cooperation was unlikely without some rumour of treasure to motivate mercenary types, but they are the only ones who would go.

            We absolutely had to return to the surface. We desired Droctulf to bandage his wounds properly and we had run out of provisions.

Kruth did not risk going back to fetch the fragments of the Black Book which he had left on the pillar. To risk further movement in such areas may have cost us dearly, and where there is one Dark Mantis there may be others.

            The professor still considers himself responsible for the whole affair, which had been under his leadership. I have assigned myself considerable penances for what happened. Such misadventures as these are common in the Underdyrth, and if one cannot abide with such dubious outcomes, it is best not to go.

            The day was beautiful but our hearts bitter when we returned to the surface. There is one consolation which I can offer you: the professor later intimated to me that the calamity was the will of Allfather. The gnome explained that he had seen in a dream how Geodfrey, in some dark and remote underground den, slew the eerie devourer that was endeavoring to finish Jethrai.

            Allmighty God had indicated by this act that Geodfrey was called to be a wyrmslayer. There was no battle-training that Kruth could have provided him. An Ammouric deep-ranger, passing through the area and hearing Geodfreys’ war-cry befriended them and trained them both. They would enter into the intermundian world and would complete their training “on site,” as it were, participating in Queen Ariandol’s ongoing war against the wyrmhelds.

            We spent many days going about the palace gardens and streams. The beautiful cedars of magnificent size swayed in the winds. The sun gleamed brightly in those summer days.

The Authapians are not the direct descendants of the more ancient Outhapians, though the one name is derived the other. The Authapians are oriental in race, and it is widely held that they migrated from the land of the Sippar in the Second Age and settled neath Mount Butterfly. The volcano had already covered the old city of the original inhabitants long before. In the same way the Regulians from Italy quelled the Rumilian and the Atlantean races, and the Tyrrhenians settled the land of Oruscia, whereas it was the Hyperborians who conquered what today we call the Feudal Kingdoms of Osring.

            As we spent time recovering and looking after Droctulf, I could not keep my mind from returning to the same questions. When should the professor and I return to retrieve those fragments? I was not sure if they were worth retrieving, after all, I suspected that those particular translations, valuable though they be, had already been known in Nystul. Perhaps they did not contain the material on the “Crow-heads” that we had been seeking.

            Are fragments of knowledge worth risking death over? The more recent renditions of the Black Book, one of which is that one that I had found, are known to be missing many of the old compilations and maps anyway. Enough of books, my conscience kept me thinking of the friends whom I had lost down there, and I often thought that they would eventually show up on the surface, but they never did.

            Do not, Phaedra, take heed of any rumour, especially the unbelievable one: that somehow they made it down as far as the hollow earth, that is, the measureless intermundane caverns and sunless sea.

            My Phaedra, you did not bear with this calamity, not at first. Your kin, Geodfrey and Jethrai, were all the family you had left. Therefore we decided to keep an eye on you for a while, which is what your kin would have wanted.

            I remember how in those sad days you began to look after Droctulf's wounds. Apparently you learned the skill from your ties with the royal house of Ayrs. You never told me that you were a valraph, but now it makes complete sense.

            The Professor desires that I continue my studies to become a Tomehunter. Many an ancient scroll left there in that place go unmentioned, left to the dusty ages down in some of those once glorious halls. Not every scroll could we eagerly examine, nor every scrinium touch, given how time pressed upon us. I am gaining certain powers of discernment, for it seems that when I open a scroll or handle it, I can now almost at once tell if some unclean magic is upon it. So will I immediately roll it up and set it afire with “the Lord's torch.”

This ability may seem to you something inconsequential for the rescue of your kin, but be assured, it can bring great benefit to the survival of a party of explorers. There are many dangerous and powerful things written down in archaeonic languages which must be understood. Do not give up hope Phaedra, you will see them again.”

            So ends the account of Hanno Escorvus, the letter he wrote for Phaedra.

                                                                   dEMON

(Spiritus Damnatus): Apostate spirits sent from the abyss of Hell often do vex noble adventurers, and do so in the most subtle ways. However, in order to wander easily about the world so to obtain the demise of many souls, they take some semi-visible form often, be it solid or subtle dream-atoms. They prefer to possess some living creature, be it an animal, such as a snake or lion, or even a foolish man or woman. The demons will not be able to possess you if ye do not willfully invite them by conversing with them or practicing forbidden magics. Never speak with the dead by any magic or seance, for this may surely open the gateway to horrid demonic influence.

Just as it is perilous for he who journeys through a dark wood where dwell wild beasts unseen, so also the traveler of this world is in peril when he relaxes his guard. He may soon become prey of the spiritual creatures whose existence he has denied.

            Even the proud warrior who says daily prayers may evenso in the deep hours of sleep have some unholy spirit-venom seep into his soul. The rebel angels anxiously desire to haunt good men and adventurers on some noble quest, or those who hope to right some wrong, especially while they are searching through the Underdyrth and have become weary. They come especially when thou sleepest, guised in any shadowy form. Therefore to bring along a canine companion is most salutary. Harassing demons tend to take the form like unto some little winged black monkey commonly depicted in icons or other renderings. It may travel as an insect, spider, flying snake, toad, or any number of creatures, even a floating eye or black box.

            They desire most of all to pour into thy dreaming mind evil knowledge things that were better for men not to know, or hinted suspicions about thy brethren, or fears of the spirit-world. They are able to have limited access to some spiritual contents of thy mind, and pour whatever eidolons (images) can be permitted by mistaken liberties. Some indeed may come clothed in brilliance and promise you many good and appealing things. Discern thou of these spirits by the following method: Command the spirit to acknowledge the name of The Master come in flesh. If the spirit is unable to do so, it is of Antichrist.

            Rush they quickly away when they accidentally awaken you, for they do not wish for thee to conjecture that diabolic intellects may exist who crave thy eternal demise. This might inspire ye to fortify thyself with prayer. They will try to weave into thy dreaming thoughts unholy suggestions, such as words like “Allmighty must not a careful father be!”