She frowns. "But then what? They just left me?" She clutches at the priest's hand. "Harrowstone - you have to help me get there before - wait." A thought strikes her. "How long have I been - gone? Did the others survive?" Another thought. "And what brought you here to raise me?" It's not exactly as if she's in good standing with the church, after all.
Oh, yes. One more thing. "Where is 'here' exactly?"
Aduard swallowed, eyes still closed.
'Nightmare, then.' vague memories assailed him - a fight with a Hag that had left him terrified to sleep without protection. He'd spent weeks developing precautionary spells in case it happened again - spells he'd now forgot.
Fighting terror with anger he opened his eyes and turned around.
Infinite Hells! Dashil!
Radag was amazed at the speed of the headless thing, even when he was expecting something bizarre and dangerous it still moved so quickly he never had time to react. And then Dashil, one of the toughest people he knew, was dropped in one blow. The power this thing must have, Radag thought.
Radag deftly shifted his stance to face the headless horror, and swung his sword as hard as he could trying to cut it in two. Hopefully he could end it before it landed another solid slam.
Greatsword:
Brogol gasps, then yells, his strained voice echoing throughout the manor,
Esta's eyes widen in shock before she can stop herself. At least she manages to keep her mouth from falling open. A hundred platinum coins?! The thought of that much money was almost frightening. Her parents worked hard and struggled their whole lives for what little they'd had, and now all she had to do was spend time with Kendra and deliver some books? But maybe now she could send a good chunk of coin back to her parents... provided they were still there, of course. Or alive.
"Oh. Well, I'm... thank you," she stammers. "That's... real generous of your dad." She yawns, suddenly realizing just how tired she is. It had been an unexpectedly long and eventful day. "Thanks again for th' room," she says with a smile. "It's been awhile since I've had a proper bed t' sleep in."
As she's about to bid Kendra goodnight when she hears Brogol's voice ring out through the manor. Oolong is already off the bed and whining at the bedroom door when Esta gives Kendra a panicked look and sprints out the door and towards the front of the building.
Upon reaching the group she sees Dashil on the floor and the headless corpse in the doorway. "Wha' happened?!"
-Posted with Wayfinder
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Spectral chains, intertwined with holy symbols from numerous faiths, shoot from the floor and encircle the prone Dashil, wrapping around her neck, waist, shoulders, and legs. They begin to tug and pull, crushing the inquisitor into the floor.
A bloody "A" appears on the wall as more of the liquid starts to pour from the cracks.
Aduard does his best to keep his fear under control. 'Show fear and you just encourage them.' He thinks, remembering any number of sadistic villians from his stories.
"Oh, thank goodness! It's just you, then, Fean." 'Yes, the wrong name, again' "I thought I was in danger for a moment. I do have to admit it's a nice effect." He sighs "Yes, yes, I'm sure we have much to talk about. By now I'm sure you've deduced my little secret? We... good gods, Fean, are you going to spell my entire name one letter at a time? We'll be here for hours!"
"Tip for a newcomer. Take these things subtly at first. You want to start with something mundane, then let them slowly come to the realisation that all is not as it is supposed to be. Once people cotton on to what you're actually doing they're hardly going to be scared, now are they?"
"Alright, Fean. What do you want. Freedom? More victims? Resurrection? Fame, perhaps? I've seen this sort of thing a hundred times." 'not so often from this side' "And eventually - let me think, given your word motif... Questions appearing written in blood on the wall? Can I make a suggestion there? Inscribing the questions on the victim's own skin - much better technique. It does require you to simulate a degree of pain, but most people don't really know what that feels like, so it'll be easier than you think."
"Anyway, let's cut to the chase - what do you want?"
"I-I don' even know wha's wrong with her!" Esta looks around frantically, simultaneously trying to figure out what's wrong with the Dashil and what she could possibly do to help in this instance.
Instinct takes over, however, and she falls to her knees next to the woman, quickly laying her hands over the Inquisitor as Radag begins tearing at the chains, a bright flash of white light flaring around her hands.
Lacking any other plan of action, the boy swung his axe at one of the spectral chains, hoping to sever it, all the while his mind running.
Who was the body? Was there a way to make the Father give up Dashil?
Dashil snorts in reply. "If you knew anything about me, you'd know I'm not a hero. But what happened to the others? Did they save the day?"
And then forgot all about me...
1/22
The priest smiles and leans against the tree under where the aasimar was buried. "Such modesty. Yes, your friends vanquished some evil in the prison. That was months ago. I understand they've moved on since then."
You're afraid, Bookman. No amount of blathering can hide that. You should be.
The voice seems to come from all around you, from inside of you.
"Ow." Dashil winces as pain lances through her. "Are you sure you did that spell right?"
She blinks at the priest's answer to her last question. So they've had months and they did nothing to restore her? "Right. Help me out of here. I'm going to the Lorrimor residence and talk with Kendra. Maybe she can tell me why my companions all scarpered once the job was done, leaving me in the ground."
It feels better, having a plan.
Esta removes her hands and looks Dashil over, relived to see that she managed to destroy most of the chains, yet frustrated that some still remain. She looks up at Brogol and Radag, worried. "Wha' now?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
Radag continues to pull with all his might on the chain, busting an eye vessel in the process as he tries to keep the extra pressure from from Dashil's throat.
"Don' y'think I'da done tha' by now if I could?" Esta snaps at Brogol, the feeling of helplessness threatening to overwhelm her. "I can only do so much at a time, an' I cert'nly didn' expect to sap my magic on any'a this when I got here t'day!"
She tries to steady her breathing, sitting back on her heels and running both hands through her hair as she looks helplessly at the chains around Dashil's neck. "Now unless either o' you know how t' heal or maybe have some holy water on you, she's gonna have t' fight though this on 'er own."
"Oh please. If you had the sort of power necessary to actually warp the world like this I would have heard of you years ago. Don't mistake physiological reactions for actual, genuine fear. You might as well be jumping out and shouting 'Boo!'"
Aduard talked a good game - a lifetime of writing horror stories gave one a certain perspective.
"Didn' say somethin' 'cause I jus' thought of it," Esta mumbles tiredly to herself. Rummaging through Radag's bag, she finds the two flasks of holy water. Kneeling down beside Dashil's head, she unstoppers one of the flasks and pours its contents carefully over the spectral chains still wrapped tightly around the aasimar's throat.
The priest's expression darkens, pulling Dashil up from the grave. "Did I cast the spell right? Are you questioning Sarenrae's grace?"
The holy water fairs a little better, beginning to corrode the holy-symbol-laden bonds that wrap around the inquisitor.
Don't play the fool, Bookman. It doesn't suit you. You know as well as I that Hawkren's presence was the only thing keeping me from freeing myself. The hour is at hand.
"Dammit," Esta mutters, her eyes filled with worry as Dashil starts to struggle before them. She unstoppers the second, and last, bottle of holy water and pours it over the chains.
"Hmmm... well, if a dead redneck sheriff is enough to keep you 'prisoned, I think I'll be alright."
Aduard sighed "So you don't want to talk? Very well. Fun as this is, I need to get up early tomorrow morning, so if you'll excuse me I need to go."
Her hand moves to her throat, trying to dislodge whatever is constricting her.
[/spoiler]
The voice creeps through your head again. I'll be waiting.
The wizard awakens, wrapped in his sheets, covered in cold sweat.
There seems to be some manner of commotion in the foyer.
Dashil wakes up to find her friends standing around her. Esta kneels over her, an empty vial in her hand.
With the second dose of holy water, the chain wrapped around Dashil's neck strains and snaps. The aasimar sucks in a sharp breath, marks from the binds fresh on the skin. Slowly, she regains consciousness.
Kendra comes down the stairs, dressed in a modest nightgown. She looks in alarm at the unfolded scene: the recovering Dashil and the mouldering, headless corpse.
Her eyes widen in horror when she sees the body, and she promptly faints.
Aduard's eyes snap open. Fumbling he swings a leg out and down, left hand reaching for glasses he hasn't worn in months. His right hand is under his pillow, pulling out the subset of his component pouch he keeps under his pillow.
Worried by the sound he pushes himself, forcing himself to stand. Still dressed in nightgown, and barefoot, pouch slung around his waist, heads out to the landing.
Radag rushes to catch Kendra nearly pulling his back from the amount of energy he had exerted in such a short time and without his usual warm up. Radag mouths a curse as a sudden calm settle in the chaotic wake.
Then a thought slips out in a surprising curiosity, "Where the hell is Aduard?"
As the chains finally break and Dashil regains consciousness, Esta barks out a relieved laugh and sits back on her heels, muttering tiredly to herself in a string of various languages. She smiles down at the inquisitor as she looks her over.
She pauses as she sees Kendra faint into, thankfully, Radag's arms. Pushing herself from the floor, runs to them and instructs Radag to lay Kendra on the ground, then kneels over the woman to examine her— lifting her eyelids, checking her pulse, and patting her face gently. "Kendra? Kendra, wake up." She looks back at the scene, wondering what would have caused this reaction. The corpse, maybe? "D'you think she recognized th' body?" she asks, looking up at Radag. "She's seen weirder stuff than tha' t'day alone."
"Probably the whole day combined more than any one thing." Radag grunts as he slowly lowers her to the ground, more precarious in feat of his touchy back muscles.
"Ugh."
Various thoughts crowd in on Dashil as she wakes up - "What the hell just happened? - And why am I soaking wet?"
"...please tell me this is water."
Standing up shakily, she sees Esta tending to a fallen Kendra, and sighs. "Hold on. I know where she keeps the brandy."
Pouring a generous measure of spirits, she holds the glass to the young woman, holding her up. "Drink this. It's medicinal, so no arguments."
She smiles. The world seems clearer, brighter, than it has done in a long time - years, if not decades.
It is good to be alive.
Aduard walks down the stairs to the debacle at the entrance, dressed in his nightwear, barefoot, and with his hand in his component pouch.
Quickly he does a headcount "Everyone still with us? Has anyone checked on the servants? What happened here?"
Brogol stuffs the empty holy water vial into his satchel, blushing red that he missed the chain, and thankful that it didn't matter. The boy breathes a sigh of relief as Aduard appears on the stairs. "Everyone's still here. Tha' corpse attacked us, then it took Ms. Dashil..." - casting a fleeting glance towards Dashil, an uncomfortable thought occurs to Brogol - "...somewhere. Tha Lady Kendra fainted when she saw tha body. It looks familiar, but I can't place it."
Though deep down, the boy knew his suspicions were correct, he needed to hear it.
"Is it tha professor?"
Esta stands and takes as step back as Dashil tends to Kendra. "Remind me tha' I owe you some holy water," she mumbles to Radag, tired but relieved to see Dashil awake and, seemingly, no worse for wear. She wraps her arms around herself, ashamed by how unprepared she'd been. What kind of healer was she if she didn't have enough healing spells prepared?
"Is it tha professor?"
Yanked from her self-pity, Esta's eyes narrow, darting from Brogol to the body. After the things she'd experienced today, she wasn't willing to rule anything out. "Tha' would explain Kendra's reaction..." she says, moving next to Brogol. "I mean, she's seen weirder stuff than this."
Aduard takes command he waves to Esta
He pauses, stricken, at the sight of Oolong. If he has I'll bind his soul into a lump of rock and forge it into a bedpan.
Aduard stomps off to the servants quarters, muttering about 'Paid in advance'.
Dashil gives Aduard a cool look: "Nice of you to turn up. But we have things under control." She continues to hold the brandy glass up to Kendra's lips.
The man does have a point about the corpse, however. Perhaps covering it would be a good idea.
"Cornelius?" she calls out to the house's Unseen Servant. "Could you place a sheet over that body, please?"
Aduard pauses for a second, still facing away. "Sorry I was delayed. Had a little tete-a-tete with our friend the Splatterman, in a mindscape built for two. Presumably that means someone else took out Dashil while I kept him busy, and that means the prisoners are attacking in force. With luck we can stop them before they get the bright idea of turning the servants into suicidal cannon fodder. I've no desire to have to stab my maid."
He pauses again, then resumes "Actually, Stockl - could you check the doors are all locked, and the windows barred? I doubt they'll send villagers, but better safe than sorry. Dashil appears to be busy getting Miss Lorrimor tipsy."
Esta raises an eyebrow at Bookman's strange look at Oolong, but decides to let it go for the time being, and instead moves to stand with him. "So wha' now?" she asks, stifling a yawn. "Somethin' tells me sleep is prob'ly outta the question t'night. Wha' can I do?"
"Watch my back." Aduard answers tersely, moving at a brisk pace. "Once we know they're awake we can go to the drawing room and look for an answer. The splatterman invaded my dreams. Fortunately I still had a precaution in place. Unfortunately that's not used. He sleepwalked my maid into cutting her wrist yesterday, and I don't intend to let him do so again. I'll need to sleep before we can attack tomorrow, and there's every possibility he's waiting for us in our dreams."
Fatigue, it seems, makes Bookman garrulous.
Esta nods in response, almost trotting to keep up with him as her ever watchful eyes dart warily around them, Oolong bringing up the rear. "I can do tha'."
Wait, did I just hear we need another day? Radag groans as he drags the corpse outside and covers it with a sheet. Weren't we planning on heading out so we could be back before the town meeting later this morning?
Brogol grunts in affirmation. The Bookman was, once again, thinking well ahead of himself. Taking his locksmith's tools, Brogol checks each door and window, and satisfied that everything is shut tight, begins to hammer nails into the sills of the windows, each and every one in the house. Kendra could get the work undone later. For now, at least anything trying to come through a window would need to break it.
Kendra takes a sip of the brandy and coughs. Her eyes flutter open. "Oh, gods. What happened?"
Her eyes land on the spot where the headless body previously lay. She sucks in a breath. "That was my father's body. I picked the clothes out myself." Her eyes fill with tears and she wraps her arms around Dashil's neck.
---
Aduard and Esta find all of Aduard's servants and make sure that they're awake. They each seem unaffected by the night's events.
"We may have a dream Haunt. Make tea. Plenty of tea. And something that passes for supper or breakfast. We're meeting in the Drawing Room." Aduard orders, then walks away, apparently unconcerned.
"Tea it is."
After a bit of poking around the estate, Esta finds the kitchen and gets to work making large quantities of tea and gathering as much simple food as she can find. After some searching, she finds enough bread, cheese, meat, and fruit to feed their group and arranges it all on a platter. Hands full of food and drink, she carefully makes her way to the drawing room and gently sets everything on the table. She pours everyone a cup of tea before pouring her own and taking a seat, waiting for the others to arrive. Oolong jumps into the chair with her, settling into her lap with a toothy yawn before tucking his nose into his tail.
The murder ghosts are getting desperate. They know we're coming for them and they only need to buy time. But hey, let's talk about Aduard's bad dream instead. Radag says as he walks back into the manor.
Radag paused to turn and look at the door one more time to take in the a curious thought, shakes the question from his mind. When the others are ready, Radag helps gather to the drawing room.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
" Vyrelian. I'm so sorry." Aduard, now wrapped in a dressing gown and beslippered, seems appalled. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe the servants are so lazy you've had to do this yourself."
Dashil wraps Kendra in a fierce, protective hug. She breathes in deeply, taking in the young woman's scents of warmth, youth, innocence...
Don't you dare make a move on her while she's vulnerable.
"I'm so sorry they did that to you, Kendra." She looks at the corpse, shrouded in the hallway. They need to find somewhere to put that before they can re-inter it. "But it shows that we're winning - they're getting desperate, trying to terrorise us. And tomorrow it ends."
"Now, why don't you go back upstairs and I'll bring you a cup of tea?"
=======
"Alright Bookman, what's all this about a meeting? We need sleep, so that we're able to head off at first light. Make it quick. And interesting. Like Radag says, nobody gives a damn if you had a nightmare. This is Ustalav. I'm not staying out of bed for less than the apocalypse."