Aduard licked his lips nervously at Adam's grunt. 'Shouldn't feel pain. Shouldn't think. I hope whoever created him didn't also "fix" his immunity to healing magic.'
Esta takes Adivion's hand, palm up, into one of hers, then moves the other over it, tracing familiar patterns as she mutters the incantation to herself.
Pale light shimmers from Esta's palm as she heals the wound on Adivion's palm. Within moments, the cut is gone—replaced by a slender line of silver scar tissue.
"My thanks, Ms. Vyrelian," Adivion says, turning to the judges to meet their eyes. "Now if you'd please repeat that same spell on Adam."
Esta moves to Adam's cage, smiling kindly at him as she gently takes his arm in her hand. She places her other hand over the cut and performs the hex again.
The same pale light flickers on the Beast's wound which, to the shocked gasps of those sitting in the gallery, seals closed, leaving a line of pale scar tissue where the cut had been.
"What are you?" Adivion asks in a hushed voice, his face momentarily transformed into the fascinated, impersonal mask of a scholar dissecting a newly discovered animal. He recovers quickly, turning towards the judge's thrones.
"Your Honors, I believe that this test proves conclusively that Adam could not have been Morast's attacker. Observe the scarring atop his left shoulder, a permanent reminder of the injury I inflicted on him. Were Adam wounded by a blood caimin, he would bear some sort of scarring from the wound healing, magical or otherwise."
"I believe we have seen enough for one day," the Head Justice intones with a hint of reproach. "This court is in recess until tomorrow morning, where we will hear the evidence of the Beast's crimes in Hergstag." The judge bangs the gavel, calling an end to the trial for the day.
Adivion gestures for the party to meet him inside the chambers provided for the defense. When gathered, he scowls and seats himself behind the desk. "That could have gone better," he admits.
Could have gone worse, Radag says with a twitch.
"I can only offer my apologies, and my confusement." Aduard's voice is torn "I could have sworn Adam was a construct - but what construct can be healed by the energy of life. He is - somehow - alive. With a man's mind."
He shakes his head. "Regardless. You did well, Adivion, given the circumstance. Now we must turn our gaze to Hergstag."
Adivion holds up a hand to halt Aduard. "No apologies are necessary, Mr. Bookman. It was a gambit that I took, knowing what the consequences might be. I have some manner of understanding on the construction of golems, and I was quite confident that Esta could not heal Adam. It would seem that our mutual client is no simple construct, "awakened" by magic. Adam is something else, truly alive." The barrister's eyes gleam with fascination. "Either way, I believe that I recovered the point I was arguing nicely. Esta's magic left a scar and there was no scarring from the caiman attack. I trust the judge's will understand that as well."
Adivion pauses, fingers steepled and staring into the distance. "Adam is unlike anything I have ever experienced. If I understand better his origins, perhaps I might be able to make more definitive statements on his physiology. Adam is frustratingly vague on the subject. It seems like a subject he is unwilling or afraid of discussing. While you investigate Hergstag, I will make my own inquiries into the matter. Now please, bring me something I can work with tomorrow."
---
Now abandoned and overgrown, the village of Hergstag lies some ten miles northwest of Lepidstadt. The once fertile farmland has fallen to ruin, and even the well-trodden footpaths are difficult to follow in the lengthening shadows of the late afternoon. Despite the condition of the terrain, Radag has little trouble finding the way.
Hergstag proves to be a collection of farmhouses surrounding a white-walled chapel that loosely fits the definition of a town. The crops have gone to seed and everywhere browning stalks of corn having grown tall, making visibility poor between buildings. The only movement in town is the creaking of an ancient windmill near the river's edge—the home of the prosecution's witnesses and likely first stop for the party.
The village has been abandoned in the wake of the killings, which occurred almost seven months prior.
Tonguing at the feeling of something in his teeth, Radag climbs from the carriage and begins strapping his arms checking his armor is secured. Looks like we're here. Radag spits in triumph of freeing his mouth from needing to tongue at his teeth. I'll be honest, I hope its quite here and there's nothing to prove here, but that hope is only barely pulled ahead of hoping there's a real monster here to best. Dibs on the horns or head for the mount.
Esta giggles quietly at Radag before trying to remember who they needed to talk to.
"I think it was three ladies who said they saw Adam laughin' as he was holdin' a dead girl in 'is arms, yeah? An' they said he escaped into th' swamp. We should talk t' them." She pauses for a moment, thinking, before musing mostly to herself, "I wonder if this place really is haunted."
You haven't heard? All of Ustalav is haunted.
Esta chuckles and nods. "Tha's fair. T' be more sp'cific, I meant by th' kids Adam s'pposedly murdered. Small town folk really like their ghost stories."
She looks around the abandoned village before her eyes settle on the windmill in the distance. "I guess we know where t' go first," she says, pointing.
Aduard's misstep at the trial preys on his mind through the whole trip. Unconfronted memories wash over him, and he is more preoccupied with his own ghosts than that of cursed Herstag.
He travels silently, and on arrival his mien is long, his mood dour, and his speech has the formal tones of a century ago.
"My memory is not what it was; but still I remember somewhat of 'ghosts', and their cursed incorporeality." Aduard casts his gaze at the sky "The sun may, perhaps, provide us some measure of protection - perhaps. Sarenrae's eye burns some of those who have fled Pharasma, but others walk untouched. Regardless, we should aim to be gone well before night falls, lest even that uncertain protection is denied us."
"Make no mistake; until we know what we face, we must assume we are once again plunged into battle with the same dark forces that cost us so dearly at Harrowstone. Stockl and Zorya were lessons in what comes of underestimating the tenacity and malevolence of the dead."
"We are not helpless. Irefist has his mace, Ms Vyrelian her healing gift, and I've a spell that will render the doctor's pepperbox effective for a time. I've a spell you've seen before that conjures missiles that will pierce a ghost at rage - but this cursed corn makes it all but useless." he nods at the others "I've another spell that wards my body, and of this I have a spare. Unlike mortal steel it will work as well against the dead as the living. Ms Vyrelian, I trust this spell is not unfamiliar to you?"
"Let us stay close together as we find these sisters. Garrow, Starle, and Flicht. Three old women surviving in a village full of dead children. Sounds like a Coven of Hags to me, and like as not the true villains of this tragedy."
"Evidence, Bookman," the Doctor chides. "There's nothing but the number that makes these women suspicious, yet. And, if they are hags..."
Karras removes his hat and runs a gloved hand through his unkempt hair, the need for a haircut barely registering within the Doctor's troubled thoughts.
"We'll likely not survive the day."
"Very well doctor, Consider my imprecations cautions rather than accusations. Accept neither food nor drink. Do not be alone with them. Should they being to invoke power, slay them immediately."
He sighs "Who will take the lead in this questioning then? Your acting skills are superior to mine, doctor. Ms Vyrelian is most likely to elicit sympathy. On the other hand I fancy my conversational skills may be superior - despite my fumbling in that accursed marsh-town."
Looking to the others he fumbles with something in his pocket "Irefist, you and Ms Vyrelian have proved by far the most observant of us all. If there is some clue in their mill-cot, it is the two of you who will find it."
"For now, I shall cast my wards. Ms Vyrelian, I suggest you do the same. If anyone believes they may unlock the secret of that damnable wand and cure the doctor of his current malady, by all means please do so. If not, hand it over and I shall do my best."
Esta encases herself in her own magical armor before gesturing to Aduard. "Lemme see it. I've used wands b'fore, but not very often." She studies it for a moment, then moves in front of Karras and points the wand at him. Brow furrowed in concentration, she focuses her own magical energy into the wand and nudges that power forward, producing a shimmery white light from the tip that gently seeps into Karras' torso.
"There," she says, giving the doctor a small smile. "I think that should be better."
With a nod Radag adds, If there's something to find, dont worry, we'll find it.
The Doctor smiles and pats Esta on her shoulder. "Aye, Miss Vyrelian, that is much better. You're a fine healer."
Inquiries at the windmill are met by a haggard-looking woman in her early forties named Garrow. Although suspicious, she invites the party into a building adjoining the mill, which serves as a residence for Garrow and her sisters, Starle and Flicht. Inside, the signs of travel preparation are obvious—the sisters are preparing for the trek to Lepidstadt for the trial tomorrow.
"You're here on account of the trial then?" Garrow asks. "We've already told Mr. Heiger everything worth telling."
"Such a gentleman," Starle adds, her sister Flicht nodding enthusiastically.
Oh? Radag replied. Good gentlemen are a rare encounter this far from the city. It's hard to tell if they are gentlemen or patient wolves. Im trying to be a better gentleman myself. Radag lends a humble, crooked smile. We appreciate your time. These gentlemen, her ladyship and I are here to review the testimony with you. I know you've done your duty and shared everything already, but please forgive us if we ask questions for which you've already answered, it's just what law requires for these kinds of things of course.
"Alright," Garrow agrees. "I guess it won't hurt to tell our story again." The woman gestures to an aged sofa. "Have a seat why don't you and we'll answer your questions."
"Right here, sir," Starle indicates to Radag, patting the spot between her and Flicht.
Right, I'm just the help dearies. Let the proper gents have it. I'll check the perimeter. Radag prods Bookman and Karras forward.
"Indeed, Mr Irefist. My skin crawls to know we are so close to the village where such evil things still roam. I wonder at the courage of the ladies to live in such a shadow!" Aduard waves Irefist off, bows, and pulls out a book and pen.
"Good afternoon, ladies. Let me start by admitting I have an ulterior motive - my name is Aduard Bookman. It is possible that you may have encountered one of my novels. The story here, tragic as it is, is one that needs to be told more widely; three brave ladies - millers, I understand, given your house stands next to the mill and I fancy that lovely table has the polished look of mill-sanded hardwood - standing against a tide of the undead. Please forgive me if my questions seem intrusive; but detail is the grist for my mill."
Aduard moves to take the proffered seat as he talks, his pen scrawling with long practised speed.
"Lest you think I seek to take advantage, rest assured I intend to donate a portion of the sales from my story to the survivors; in this case, yourselves. I'd also be delighted to use your real names, if you will allow me permission."
From either side Garrow and Flitch can read over his shoulder their descriptions - painted in glowing tones and purple prose.
Starle gives the departing Radag a pouty look, momentarily giving her the appearance of a teenage girl, but as Aduard lays out his accoutrements, Flicht's eyes grow wide. She leans over to Garrow and whispers something in her ear, never taking her eyes from the wizard.
"Excuse me, Mr. Bookman," Garrow interjects when Aduard is finished talking. "But are you the Mr. Bookman? Mr. Aduard Bookman? We are such fans, so we are. I expect we've read all your books twice maybe thrice."
Flicht nods emphatically, apparently too starstruck for words.
"We would be honored," Starle adds, walking over to where her sisters are seated. "Simply honored if you were to include us."
"Indeed?" a change comes over Aduard, a beaming smile crossing his face "Madame, I am lost for words. An artist is nothing without his audience, and I do love to meet a fan - to meet three at once is a true pleasure. I've been working on a few scenes over the last month or so - perhaps you might like to offer an opinion? Or I'd be delighted to do a reading for you!"
He turns to Esta, but whatever he was to say dies on his lips as he remembers the actual purpose of the visit.
"Ahem. Yes. Eventually, of course. But first I would love to hear your story - and how is it that three such cultured and delicate flowers of Ustalav dare to live so close to a site of such terror!"
He turns to a scrawled note "I have some of the details, of course, but it is dry as dust." he harumphs and reads
"The Beast's second alleged crime is the murder of six children in Hergstag seven months ago. The prosecution's witnesses are a trio of sisters and Hergstag natives named Garrow, Starle, and Flicht. They own a windmill on the outskirts of the village, are in their late forties, and have lived in Hergstag their entire lives." He raises an eyebrow "Obviously a detail wrong there, for I doubt that age can be accurate."
"One by one, the village's children vanished, only to return as ghosts." he sighs and drops back to commentary "Dry as dust. I can only imagine the creeping terror that must have stalked the village. The fear each night - or even day - that another child might have vanished. Snuffed lives summarised in a single simple sentence." he shakes his head "Please, if you will, may I have the names of the poor wains. How many children were there in the village originally? Did they all vanish at night? In the day? From their beds? The fields? What did the ghosts look like? Did they return one at a time? How long was it between their disappearances and reappearances? What did they look like - and did you ladies ever see one yourself, or was their appearance hearsay and happenstance?"
He resumes "Then one day, the culprit was found, the Beast. It walked into the middle of town, carrying the body of the sixth dead child, a girl named Ellsa. All three of the sisters recall the Beast laughing as it held Ellsa's broken body. As soon as the locals saw the monster, they set upon it with pitchforks and other farming tools, but it escaped into the swamp." He nods "This is pathetic. Brave farmers staging a desperate attack on a creature like this - and winning? A climactic scene for the book, to be sure. And the only monument to such a fight this sentence?"
"Although the Beast was gone, the spirits of the murdered children remained. Their presence was too much for the villagers, who abandoned Hergstag to the dead." ignores the fact that you ladies have not abandoned Herstag to the dead - have you? Did all leave at once, or did families drift away one at a time? Did the ghosts ever attack? Tell me of these unquiet spirits who remain. Do they stalk? Attack? Harass? Do they go about their childish lives in some ever repeating pattern?"[/b]
The sisters giggle like school girls when Aduard comments on their apparent youth, but fall into sullen silence when he brings up the dead children.
"A terrible business," Starle replies. "Just terrible." Flicht seems to shrink into herself, staring intently at the hands clasped in her lap.
"Maarten, Rachel, Gaard, Allen, Ellsa, Karin," Garrow adds. "In that order. Nearly all the children in Hergstag."
"Except for Roderic and Jana's young twins," Starle cuts in.
"Aye, except for them. They left town first. They were the lucky ones, cause they could see it coming. It took about a month in all and started with Maarten. He was out playing by the hill south-west of town and then he didn't come home. Then a few nights later, Rachel goes missing, right out of her bed. A few nights after that, it's Gaard. But this time, Gaard's father happens to look out the window and see Gaard being led away by Maarten and Rachel, but they're all ghost-like! He tried to grab his son, but by the time he got out the door they were gone."
"Gaard's father killed himself a week later," Starle interjects. "Rope and a sturdy branch."
"Anyways," Garrow continues. "It went on like that for a while til the Beast comes into town. He's got Ellsa in his arms, her body colder and deader than doornail, and he's as bold as you please. We were all shocked by what we saw, but then he starts chuckling like she told him something funny and I'll tell you, it set the men right off. Grabbed anything sharp or heavy and just rushed the brute. He took right off, and poor Ellsa's body with him, running into the forest. They never did catch him."
"And then a few nights after that, Ellsa's spirit was seen in town, calling to Roderic and Jana's children. Luckily the parents knew to be wary. They left the next day. Folk started following after that. It was too much for most to bear. We only stuck around on account of the river. Everybody knows spirits can't cross running water."
Radag meanders about occassionally checking the area for anything unusual. When mention of spirits takes over, he naturally cant help but by being curious. He thinks on his time honing his skills again undead and when type of spirits these might be.
Aduard certainly gives the impression of being affected by the story. "Horrible." he sympathises as he writes furiously "Just terrible."
He pauses to offer a kerchief to Flicht. "You are scholars as well then? Not many would know of running water's ability to ward against certain spirits. Fewer still would have the courage to stake their very souls on it. Truly, ladies, you are exceptional."
"Hmmm - Maarten, Rachel, Gaard, Allen, Ellsa, Karin" He pauses to confirm his notes "So Karin was taken after Roderic and Jana moved away? After the Beast was driven off?"
"It is an abomination that these poor children are denied Pharasma's rest. I assume their physical bodies were buried with all ceremony, but their souls cannot rest while their spirits still walk? Not simply a case of taking their poor bones to be sanctified?" He looks to the others "I wonder if there is aught we can do?"
"Please forgive me ladies, for my impertinent nosiness; vice of the profession, I am afraid. What do you do for a living? Are you independently wealthy? With everyone gone, I expect there's as much call for millinery as milling."
"Forgive me, ladies," the Doctor says, unscrewing the top of a small metal flask and downing the contents as Garrow talks. "I've been plagued by a malady these last few days, and have feeling a bit weak. These concoctions, they help focus my senses."
While not untrue, the Karras was omitting some important details. Still, smitten with the Bookman as they seemed to be, the Doctor trusted them not to notice.
Raising an eyebrow, the Doctor prods the woman gently.
"Garrow, there's more to your story, isn't there? Don't hold back - Master Bookman needs every detail for his upcoming writing."
The spirits of truly evil souls, wraiths are creatures of hatred and darkness. Although they have lost much of their connection to their mortal lives, they view all living things with envy and will attack them on sight.
Wraiths attack the very essence of their prey, weakening their quarry and increasing their own power. When a wraith slays a living creature, that creature's soul is devoured by the wraith. What's left is bound to the wraith in unlife. These "wraith spawn" remain under the control of their creator, performing tasks or luring prey until the wraith is destroyed, at which point the spawn become fully-fledged wraiths, free to spread terror on their own.
The oldest of their kind are called dread wraiths, ancient creatures that have glutted on enough life force to increase their size and strength.
One major weakness of wraiths is that they are powerless in sunlight.
"Oh, we get by, Mr. Bookman, Garrow says. "Our father left us this mill and there's plenty of space for us. We don't operate any more, but we've saved. And Flicht earns us some money with her weaving. Flicht, dear, fetch Mr. Bookman a hat, why don't you?"
Flicht gets up to leave as Karras asks his question.
"Well," Starle starts.
"Karin died after the Beast ran off, aye," Garrow finishes. "Her father heard her screaming, but by the time he reached her, she was dead. Lying there in her bed, not a mark on her. No sign of entry to her room either."
"Not sure how the Beast did it, to be quite honest," Starle admits.
Listening to the sisters' stories, Esta wondered where to even start with the multitude of questions she had for them. "Were th' bodies of the other children ever found?" she asks. "Seems kinda hasty t' blame th' Beast when no one actually saw him do anythin'."
Radag replies to Esta's question, Many spectral undead creatures are known to create spawn from the things they kill, but based on what we're hearing, I'd but it was most likely a wraith. When a wraith slays the living, that creature's soul is devoured by the wraith. What's left is bound to the wraith in unlife. These "wraith spawn" remain under the control of their creator, performing tasks or luring prey until the wraith is destroyed, at which point the spawn become fully-fledged wraiths, free to spread terror on their own.
"None of which." he adds sternly "Discounts the eyewitness testimony of these brave ladies." He sighs a little "Though Gaard's case shows at least limited mind control, if not outright possession. If the only time the Beast was sighted was when he walked into the village, there's every chance his mind was not his own, and sudden fear of death has been known to free people from such control."
"I doubt this is a simple wraith; I'd not trust a stream like this to keep that at bay. This, I fear, is something far worse."
Little hard to swallow all that. What do you suppose it is? Or is this one of those situations where we have to kick around the bushes again and see what we scare up first?
"I find those situations more often than not," Karras sighs, rising and donning his hat. "Thank you ladies for your time. Did anyone have anything else to ask?"
"No," Garrow admits. "Nobody ever found the bodies. The children each have graves at the chapel, but only Karin is buried there."
Has anyone claimed to have seen Karin's spirit since she passed? I have a thought and think we might want to talk with her guardians.
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Aduard takes a deep sigh, and pulls himself to his feet. "I suspect there's nothing for it but to take a look - preferably while the sun is out."
Ladies; he bows to each, and turns towards the direction where Flicht left.
"Ladies. I wish I could spend more time in your company, but if we are to investigate across the river then I dare not let any more daylight escape." He shakes his head slowly, in apparently genuine regret "I will ensure we stop by, before we leave, so you may know my unquiet spirit does not haunt your ancestral lands. If we meet with some success, I may even be able to offer you some small measure of comfort."
Donning his hat, the Doctor nods to the women and makes towards the door. "Come on then. Ass Bookman notes, let's get this done before the depths of night."
"I don't know about Karin's spirit, but we've seen things," Garrow replies.
"At night," Starle continues. "Lights that flit around the houses of the families whose children gone missing."
"Karin's house included," Garrow finishes. Flicht shivers nervously.
"Oh, do be careful Mr. Bookman," Garrow says, grasping the mage's hands in her own. "Mr. Irefist, Dr. Karras, Ms. Vyrelian, to each of you as well. They might have caught the monster that did this, but I think the children still rest uneasy. It's not safe across the river at night. One thing before you go, I know that some of the other locals left traps behind, like the sort for hunting. Should the Beast return."
---
Across the river, visibility is poor. Tall stalks of corn, grown wild without farmers to tend them, sway gently in great patches between farmhouses, creating a susurrus that drowns out the creaking windmill.
The places nearest the river are likely the worst then. The traps for something like Adam, I'll keep my eyes open.
Aduard lays a hand against Garrow's cheek with surprising gentleness; "Fear not. My companions and I are well acquainted with dangers of this sort - and have no desire to fall prey to these."
---
"Lead on Radag. I've no desire to stumble into some overgrown, rusty Beast-trap, and no illusions as to our relative skill and detecting such." Aduard nods to his companion.
"Make sure you're watchin' out for traps!" Esta calls to Oolong after they've exited the sisters' home and the fox darts ahead of the party.
"Well, I guess we should get started. What's closest?" she asks, scanning their surroundings. "We got a lotta ground t' cover."
Karin's first. As good a place to start as any.
Hergstag has literally gone to seed, overgrown and ruined. Karin's home lies on the far side of the town. The fastest route to it run's through the villages's center, past one of the dilapidated farmhouses, its roof partially collapsed, and the town's chapel.
While circumventing the first farmhouse, Radag almost steps into a concealed trap, although the ranger hops away before the device can snap shut around his leg.
Moments later, a young boy's voice begins to slowly sing from somewhere in the corn.
Little Marten loved to run, until he ran to Brother Swarm
Shooting bow's was Garad's fun, until he was no longer warm
Allen wanted t' be a knight, now he takes another form
Rachel's pranks were filled with fright, now she fears a differ'nt storm
Elsa and her glitter-staff, more to keep the keeper warm
Karin he did save for last, now they all buzz as his swarm
Aduard pauses as the song plays out "That's not foreboding at all." he murmurs to himself, then falls in closer to Radag "I do not intend to stay in this godsforaken hamlet post-sunset. Does anyone having anything to help Irefist traverse these trap-filled fields faster than an amble?"
I wouldn't set your hopes on it Bookman. We can't leave whatever this is here to do whatever it pleases. If we have the power to stop it, we have to, Radag warns. Then he adds, With these traps, its safer to amble.
"That's... real unnervin'," Esta says nervously as the song plays out. Oolong runs back to her side, winding his way around her legs. "Let's keep movin'. I feel like a sittin' duck just standin' here." She starts slowly forward, eyes and ears on high alert for anything around them that seems out of the ordinary.
Though in a place like this, she wasn't sure anything would seem ordinary.
The adventurers press deeper into the abandoned town, heading towards the chapel. Directly ahead of them lies what at first appears to be a fallen scarecrow, laid across their path. A moment longer's examination catches the gleam of white bone, bleached by the sun.
What in blazes is there bone sticking out of that scarecrow for? Anyone want to take a guess at it or should I just start testing it with arrows from here?