You stop and stretch, sensing that the rest of the party are pausing as well. Leaning the mace 
against the tree you stretch your shoulders, trying to relieve the tension from carrying mace 
and armour around. Your shoulders tingle more than you thought; you lean forward, attempting 
to ease the muscles.

Leaning back you press your shoulders against the bars of the cage and stare outwards. You 
think back, trying to work out what you could have done differently to avoid being caught, but 
the unknowns only frustrate you. The journey back to your homeland isn't an easy one but you'd 
never considered you'd encounter trouble such as this.

A death cult was ready and prepared, almost as if they were expecting a paladin of life to come 
along. Almost as if they were expecting you. They'd caught you in ambush as you made your way 
through the valley, overwhelming you with no loss of life, and yet they hadn't killed you. Instead 
you woke up and found yourself in this cage; looking out from it across to the site of their ritual 
it's clear what they have planned.

Your mace has been placed on a strange black stand, made from sort of glistening metal or  stone; 
it's hard to tell from this distance. Grotesque images have been carved across it. The stand 
itself sits within a great ritual circle, and a large group of black-cloaked figures move around it 
completing the final preparations.

You watch as the head ritualist approaches the circle, leading a chant repeated in a strange harmony 
by the other priests. You try and get a look at him but the movement of the priests within the ritual 
makes it hard; then you get a glimpse. Not for long, but for long enough. Upon the breast of his robe 
is a symbol of three interlinking rings; a symbol you last saw on Trantis' shield, but you know this 
one isn't him.

Before you can dwell on this further black energies flow out from the ritual your mace. closing your 
eyes, no longer able to bear watching, but you can feel inside. Your body tingles more and more, numbing 
you to other sensations as you feel your connection to your mace stripped away as it is corrupted to 
the path of death.

The tingling stops; you cautiously open your eyes to find yourself still stretching as you were before, 
the mace leant against the tree exactly where you left it.