Abaris stood at the head of a large chamber, hand gripping his staff. Before him was a circle of stone beds with a different person atop each one. Their eyes closed and bodies relaxed as if they were sleeping heavily while cultists hovered about them with hands outstretched. They spoke an unintelligible chant and drew forth a blue, wispy essence from those that slept and channeled it into a glass orb resting atop a golden rod just behind their heads. The bluish wisp concentrating within the orbs and forming into a white flame that grew the longer it went on for. But the bodies had a limit and began withering away until they were not much more than unwrapped mummies.

Once the transfer was complete, the cultists collected the orbs and placed them in a wooden cart. Then they wrapped the bodies in oil soaked bandages and piled them onto a cart of their own. Once it was all done, a different group transported the carts into the depths of the cathedral before it all started again.

However, unlike the previous times he presided over the ritual, suppressed explosions went off overhead. Bits of rock and dust fell from the ceiling and walls as the booms grew closer and closer. Abaris hoped they could make it through to the end of their sacrifices, but it seemed unlikely as each explosion grew closer and louder. His hand tightly gripping his staff in preparation to attack whatever trespassers appeared.

His eyes paying special attention to any shifting shadows just outside the door that lead into the room. Readying himself to cast a spell the moment it opened. And just as he heard the scraping of armored feet approach, the door was blown off its hinges and something was thrown into the room. Rapidly, the object expelled smoke to make it as difficult to see as possible.

Taking his chance to strike before things got worse, Abaris cast roughly at where the entrance was.

“Betan bebel Scorch!”

Three screaming spears of fire soared through the air and at the entrance. They pierced through the smoke, but didn’t find purchase in anything other than the wall. But, whether in response or as a follow-up, several bombs with hissing fuzes were thrown into the room.

Abaris tried to command the others to raise their defenses in time.

“Everyone! Barriers!”

Holding his hand out toward the bombs, Abaris quickly created a barrier of flames before him.

“Gamtan def Barrier!”

Exploding just a second or two after he got his barrier up, the bombs left everyone who survived a ringing in the ears. It dazed him, but he could shake it off. But looking around the room, few others could do the same. And perhaps it was the ones who were dead that were lucky.

Carnage painted the room from wall to wall as the smell of sulfur and iron filled Abaris’s mouth. Some cultists lay face first on the ground while others had limbs torn from their bodies, both probably dead the moment the bombs went off. Yet others drowned on their own blood from punctured longs or suffered permanent loss of sight and hearing.

Abaris was about to call out to his subordinates when he spotted a glint at the entrance. Quickly, he attacked again to suppress whoever was there.

“Deltan bel Scorch!”

Five flaming spears shot at the entrance and the glint disappeared behind the entrance, and Abaris ordered the others to run.

“Take what we have below! I will buy you the time we need to complete the ritual!”

Those that were still standing immediately did as ordered, but Torgrak took advantage of the moment he was looking away to fire off a shot. Knocking one of the still standing cultists to the ground with a bullet to the spine.

Abaris then raised a wall of fire behind him to cover those fleeing.

“Gamtan def ard Wall of Flames!”

With their progress stalled, Hei charged into the room and quickly closed the distance between himself and Abaris. Cutting at him, but Abaris dodged and repositioned himself as far away from Hei as he could within the room.

“How unexpectedly Heroic. Can’t say I expected you t-”

Then Hei noticed the stone tables, broken orbs, and golden rods.

“Now, this is a surprise. I didn’t think anyone was still using this old method.”

The smoke cleared and Torgrak entered the room with his rifle shouldered.

“Somezhing from yer past?”

Hei smiled, “In a way. Didn’t think anyone still knew about this method of soul extraction.”

Abaris held his staff defensively, though his face let on that he was confused.

“How do you know the purpose of these tools?”

Hei was all too happy to answer.

“That’s what I should be asking. Who taught it to you?”

Abaris retorted, “Answer my question first, and I might be inclined to answer yours.”

“Very well then. A long time ago, some colleagues of mine and this method of extracting souls to create near perfect sacrifices for our patron. It was akin to making charcoal from wood. It requires a certain spell that makes little sense to those that don’t know the language, but it coaxes the soul from the body and transfers it into a container, much like a lich’s phylactery. As for the rods, they’re a means of substituting what’s lost in the transfer. All correct so far?”

Abaris’s eyes narrowed.

“Uncomfortably so. And as you requested, the one who taught us this was the Archbishop.”

“Archbishop… Archbishop… can’t say I know that name. Perhaps he goes by another?”

Abaris kept buying time.

“Perhaps, but he has not shared it with anyone within our religion.”

“How unfortunate. But may I ask why you deem this method to be from long ago? You appear younger than you let on, half-elf.”

“Well, we created it some three to four hundred years ago to harvest souls and sacrifice them. The same as you’re doing now. Though we did it as a kind of experiment to see what was more efficient. In the end, it proved to be a failure for our purposes.”

Abaris doubted Hei’s statements.

“That’s hard to believe, given most elves rarely live to two hundred and fifty years.”

“Just one more benefit of being a Fateless.”

Even though Hei was being honest, Abaris didn’t let his guard down for a moment. His eyes letting on that he didn’t understand what Hei meant, but he didn’t need to.

“Regardless, I cannot let you pass. You shall not stop our ritual, even if it costs me my life.”

Hei raised an eyebrow.

“Stop the ritual? Why would we do that?”

Abaris asked, “What do you mean?”

“Why would I want to stop you from summoning an avatar? If it goes as I expect it to, I’ll be able to present it to my patron as a gift.”

“You make it sound so easy to destroy. It’s quite arrogant to assume yourself to be amongst the strongest on the continent, though you deserve praise for making it this far.”

“That’s a fair assumption. And while I could get rid of your wall of fire, I feel like humoring you more. Hopefully you’ll fare better than that woman with the hammers.”