Chapter 1.4: A Reflection of Angels

They follow the hunched Bruq, who inspects the disturbances in the grass, resisting the urge to eat the grass as a stereotypical satyr would do.
“These aren’t your typical plants, are they?” Lyssa, knowing more of water than land, notices the oddly vibrant colours of the petals. They form a strong contrast with the dried brown and black flowers of those with a damaged stem. “Mero, you said they were magic. Are they dangerous or could we pick them? You never know when a little extra magic could be useful.”
(Arcana 15)
“They seem harmless. I don’t think these plants have magical properties. I rather think that the magic coming from the ground the church is built on affects them.”
She plucks a flower and the brightness of the plant immediately fades.
“Well, so much for that plan”, she says as she crushes the dried plant and releases the dead bits to be taken away by the chilling wind.

“It’s not really a big church”, Alexander states, inspecting the signs drawn on the black wall. They all seem so trivial in his eyes compared to the one that utterly destroyed the descendant of Thrones. They hear him, but choose to ignore him.
Bruq points at the ground. “Do you see the absence of grass here? Someone has been scuffling around. After this point, it stops. Something must be here.”
(Perception 17)
“Like blood mixed with dirt? I bet it’s the same as on the wall.” Oslando’s words shift their attention from the ground to the smudged stones of the church. This bloody mess is different than the painted symbols. A strange rune is carved into the wall, excessively covered with dried blood all around it. Strangely, the notches in the stone seem to be completely clean.
“Well, isn’t this curious?”, Lyssa asks. “There’s more blood spilled on here than I have in my entire body. Mostly because my body holds more wine than blood, but even if that wasn’t the case… This looks dangerous. It’s exciting.”
They all come closer, inspecting if they recognize the symbol from anywhere. A horizontal stripe is connected to three shorter, vertical stripes pointing upwards, all evenly distributed along the horizontal base. At the end of each vertical stripe, a circle is attached.
(Wisdom 22)
“I recognize it”, Alexander says slowly, making the rest of them look at him with questions glowing in their eyes. “It’s part of the big symbol we saw at the front of the church. It was drawn in one of the smaller circles.”
Oslando nods, barely visible. “Good spotting.” As they’re all staring, the expression of Mero’s mask changes.
(Arcana 21)
“It’s a blood rune”, the sorcerer says. “It sends out the same energy as I felt earlier in my life, in the home of my former master.” He presses his glove against the stone. “It’s used as a protection spell. It’s a lock that demands a sacrifice if one wants to see what it hides. It’s not something to mess around with. It could get a caster killed if they make even a minor mistake while carving it. This one seems rather… perfect.”
They look at him, partially flabbergasted about the grim message this seemingly innocent being tells them. Now they know for sure. Mero is not to be trifled with.

“Why did your master practice blood magic in his home?”, Bruq asks, scraping the dried up red from the wall with his glaive, trying to see if he can activate the rune with the already spilled bodily fluids.
“Former master”, he speaks with a cold voice. “Since I am a construct, I have no blood. He ensured I could never find things I wasn’t supposed to find. It peaked my curiosity, of course, but the only way to activate it, was through him. He would never let me see it.”
“So, whose blood are we going to put on it?” The captain’s question visibly raises the eyebrows of the other party members. “We want to go inside, right? I think this is a safer option than using the front door. Why else would the cultists use this when they occupy the church?”
“I would do it, but, as I said, I don’t have blood like you do”. The puppet speaks with an uplifted tone, giving away that he is very pleased with this outcome.
“Of course you would love to do it”, Alexander sarcastically says. “Do you have any idea how much blood it needs? What the after effects are of using this rune?”
Merodius takes another look at the magical lock. “The elf used it multiple times a week, sometimes multiple times a day. I don’t think he had more blood in his body than you do.” They look at one another and they remain silent.
(Sleight of hand 6)
Alexander reaches for the dagger on Oslando’s belt, but the half-elf is faster. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The cleric sighs and flips his sceptre. “I’m fixing our problem”, he explains with a stoic voice, as he slides the sharp nail at the bottom of his weapon across his hand and presses his bleeding palm against the blood rune.