That must have been some blood-bath, I tell you. I stared at two-feet deep chips in the walls generously pockmarked by automatic guns and streaked with molten stone—the latter, if the truth were known, could have been left by the defenders as well as the attackers. The picture was complete with a couple of petrified mountain trolls. Their massive bodies, perforated by some large-caliber quick-firer, had frozen the moment death had looked into their glazed eyes.
One of them held an interesting weapon. Collapsing on one knee as he died, he leaned against his club, trying to regain his balance. Even now the club still glistened purple. Most of all it reminded me of the torn-out barrel of a tank turret with its recognizable fat thermal sleeve and a rather battered loading mechanism that the troll must have used to bash the enemy with.
A prompt popped up:
Depleted mithril ore. Metal content: 1%. Weight: 1628 Lbs.
Visibly disappointed, my inner greedy pig poked at his calculator. The resulting figure sent him into a stupor. Seventy-four thousand gold! Immediately that raised a lot of questions. I didn't for one moment doubt the existence of various ore benefication methods that would leave me with a nice neat fifteen-pound ingot of pure mithril. The questions started with the costs, the losses of the valuable ore, as well as logistics and shipping. And how I was I supposed to cut it up or shove the ten-feet barrel into a furnace? Besides, it was breaking my heart robbing the beautiful death statue. No sculptor in the world could recreate the tragedy of the piece, the last exertion, the forehead wrinkled with effort as the troll attempted to force himself back to his feet and onto his enemies. It commanded so much compassion and respect... As far as I was concerned, it would be the last item to end up in the furnace.
I nearly broke my legs scrambling through the debris before I got to the gates of the second line of defense. The third wall loomed up about a hundred feet away, taller and even more impregnable than the first two. I turned my head this way and that, looking for the gate. WTF? Was I supposed to go on another two-mile hike? How had whoever'd lived here managed to get in in times of peace? There had to be something there that I didn't yet know. This was logistics' worst nightmare. They had to have had some magic elevators or teleports.
It looked like the mysterious invaders had shared my indignation, unwilling to traipse another half-hour in the walls' artificial shade. A few hundred feet further up, I stumbled across an artificial mound of broken stone. The whole part of the inner wall lay in ruins. Still, climbing it wasn't as easy as walking up the stairs to the third floor. I had to work hard getting to the top of that manmade hill secured by deformed lengths of construction steel.
The top offered an excellent view of the citadel which was the reason for the complex defense structure. The First Temple. Even now, with one third of it destroyed and its top stories collapsed, its tower spires molten, its wall gaping with a huge breach instead of a doorway, it commanded reverence and admiration. Its almost-Gothic style blew your mind away with millions of distracting little details. I know it sounds weird but it felt as if I stood below an enormous organ suspended high in the air, its keys transcending the sonic barrier in their solemn prayer. Eight spike-shaped wings emanated from the central building: some little more than fragments of the bearing walls, others perfectly unscathed. The whole architectural group could accommodate thousands of people. A truly enormous potential.
Gravel rustled underfoot as I gingerly slid down the slope, grasping at the rusty steel bars and braces. After five minutes of picking my way through the debris, I approached a gap in the Temple wall that opened up the way deep inside. I just hoped that the altar was somewhere other than the destroyed roof or top stories: most likely, they housed the catapults and the fortress control room. Which made sense because any invaders would storm the building from bottom to the top, not the other way round. So the altar had to be downstairs. All public religions shared the same logic.
I stepped in and gasped. The interior of the Temple looked like an open-hearth furnace laid up for maintenance. There had been a quality fire burning there for a long long time. I got the impression that, once the fire had exhausted all the combustibles, oxygen included, it had made a real effort and kept going for another couple of days, melting granite by the force of its pride alone. The vitrified floor and dripping walls had fused, wax-like, revealing a pristine slab of the altar barely shimmering in the center of the Temple.
My steps echoed flatly across the empty hall. I ascended some one-time steps, molten into the semblance of a volcanic staircase. The altar. A half-inch crack ran across it from corner to corner. The stubborn stone had chipped in the middle, the shape of the chip vaguely familiar. Without looking, I reached into my bag for the Large Fragment. It seemed to fit perfectly. Should I do it? I made a mental sign of the cross and, holding my breath for no known reason, placed the fragment onto the slab.
Gong! My ears rang; my knees hit the ground. My entire field of vision became cluttered with admin messages,
Universal alert! The Fallen One is back! The Dark Ones have restored the First Temple, allowing the Fallen God to break his fetters and regain control over a part of reality.
Effect 1: +7 to XP bonus to all worshippers of the Fallen One. The bonus is calculated by the formula of 1% per each level of the First Temple plus another 1% for every temple consecrated to Dark gods.
Effect 2: The possibility of restoring the Dark pantheon and summoning new gods to serve the Fallen One.
Effect 3: The Dark One is back in power. Now his worshippers will have the option of dedicating themselves to one of the pantheon's junior gods by offering sacrifices and receiving religious ranks. Every god has his or her own choice of gifts and skills available for their followers.
Warning! People of Light, to arms! In a month's time, the First Temple will lose its immunity. By that time, you will need to find and destroy the spawn of the Dark!
Warning! The Dark Ones, to arms! In a month's time, the First Temple will lose its immunity. By that time, you will need to unite as one man to protect the heart of your religion!
Quest completion alert: Knowledge Breeds Sadness IV. The First Temple Restoration. Quest completed!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 66!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 67!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 68!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 69!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 70!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 71!
Congratulations! You've reached Level 72!
10,000 points fame received!
Fame alert!
Your Fame has exceeded 11,000 points!
You have reached Fame level 4: Ballads are written about you.