The Forgotten Sanctuary
Sigisfarne - February 26
Rushd's accounts
A teenager had wandered where children ought not. Young Clive, emboldened by the cruel games youth play, had crossed the threshold of the abandoned church that stands abandoned in Sigisfarne’s heart. A structure older than memory, they say, its stones laid before our ancestors claimed this land as home.
Five were chosen by fate’s hand. The villagers watched with hollow eyes as we approached the iron gate, rust-kissed and forbidding.
We found passage through a jagged hole in the wall. I traced my fingers along the stonework—massive blocks fitted with an artistry lost to our age, each seam perfect despite the centuries of neglect.
Within, the church whispered of abandonment. The stone floor, fractured like a frozen lake I saw years ago, led to an altar bearing the familiar symbols of the Weeping Mother. I found myself wondering why our priests shunned this place, why they built anew rather than reclaim what stood before them. Some questions are best left as questions.
Decrepit desks bore strange carvings, runic patterns etched by desperate hands. Were they prayers or warnings? In the corner stood a scaffolding, its purpose unclear, as if someone had once attempted restoration only to flee before completion. Razzie found a silvery feather, that now adorns her hair. It looks good on her.
By the sturdy wooden door Flint discovered a ring with three keys, their metal blackened with age. They turned with reluctant surrender in the locks of the wooden door and iron gate, as if Flint had awakened them from a long slumber.
Yewtree ascended to the bell tower. The stairs worn thin by countless footfalls from ages past. At the summit, the bell lay upon the floor like a toppled idol, its bronze skin green with verdigris. Raptors had claimed it for their nest.
It was below where the church truly held its secrets. Four tunnels stretched into darkness, each marked with a symbol: bread, crown, teardrop, and halo. The air hung thick with decay and forgotten prayers.
I led our band down the path of the crown, where five stone coffins waited in solemn formation. Four had been violated, their royal occupants exposed to indignities. The sculptures depicted kings of an unfamiliar dynasty, adorned with ornaments that belonged neither to our time nor custom. The fifth coffin yielded a regalia that bore the unmistakable emblems of the Weeping Mother, though rendered in a manner that felt… altered, as if viewed through rippling water.
We found the boy there. His right arm bore the telltale blue tint of poison. On the coffin lids, holes and triggers held needles, their tips glistening with a substance none would dare touch.
In the tunnel of the halo, freestanding coffins stood open like hungry mouths. The figures within were skeletons only. The art reminded us of the Weeping Mother.
I cannot say what ancient sin caused our village to turn its back on this sanctuary, nor why the Church of the Weeping Mother refuses to reclaim what was clearly once theirs. But as Yewtree carried the boy’s body back to his grieving mother, I felt the weight of those stone walls watching our departure.
It always ends with Yewtree’s work, poor lad.
People
Factions
Locations
The ruined church
Young Clive, playing teenage games, enters the abandoned church in Sigisfarne’s heart.
Despite being in the middle of the village, the place has been closed for many generations. Many say it is older than the village, which is already ancient.
The villagers take straws, and a group of five is tasked with going into the church to find the teenagers: Razzy, Adair, Yewtree, Flint and Rushd.
An old belief
They go through the hole on the side of the iron gate. The entire construction is made of massive stone blocks, which were talentedly assembled.
Broken stone floor, an altar with symbols of our own religion, the Church of the Weeping Mother. Why isn’t this church adopted by our priests?
Decrepit furniture with runic scratching and scaffolding on one of the sides of the building is found. A set of 3 keys is found: the front wooden door and iron gate can be opened. The keys look ancient.
The stairs up are very worn. The church bell lies on the floor, where raptors make a nest. Meanwhile, Razzie found a silvery feather that now adorns her hair.
Perished in the tombs
Downstairs are four tunnels: bread, crown, teardrop, and halo. They smell of decay and moisture.
Tunnel of the crown: five stone coffins, four violated, with sculptures of kings in weird ornaments. One of them holds regalia that looks like it is from the Church of the Weeping Mother. The teenager’s body is found lying on the floor. Probably poisoned by one of the poison needles.
Tunnel of the halo: Freestanding coffins are open. Figures look religious, from the Church of the Weeping Mother.
Yewtree carried the boy’s body back to his grieving mother.