As Desdemona leaned forward, her shadow slid forward as well - but not up the door, as it should have. Instead, it went under it.
Reine kept her position by the hidden door, not actively threatening anyone, but giving a very direct stare to any worker who came too close.
None of the workers dared to bother Reine or John, whether it was because they were focused on their work or scared of the group. They gave Broom a wide berth as she helped box up the books, as well. The workmen fell into an uncomfortable silence as the minutes dragged on but the scary trio remained.
Upstairs, Desdemona's shadow squeezed under the locked door and slipped silently up the stairs, emerging on the floor of a bedroom. There was a bed with a headboard with built-in bookshelves, a dresser, a comfortable reading chair next to another bookshelf, a desk and chair, and another door.
The bookshelves in this room had obvious gaps where the former resident had clearly taken books with her when she left for Rozenport.
John pokes around behind the desk to see if there is anything of interest about the former owner or Lowls.
Broom cheerfully tries to engage the workmen in random conversation about themselves, their job and the town in general. Even if the conversation is largely one sided.
Desdemona gulped as her shadow vanished under the door, stretching off to... who knew where?!?
Preoccupied with the horrible sensation of slowly being sucked under the door, feet first, she barely noticed the whispers in her mind at first.
Then they were all she could hear.
Pushing away from the door violently, she stumbled back. Her shadow followed, but like molasses, slowly, so slowly.
Putting on a stiff upper lip was what Desdemona was best at. She turned and, with a smile plastered on her face, went down to speak with John and Reine, judging it best to leave Broom distracting the workers.
"Locked door upstairs," she murmured to John as she floated past. "Nothing interesting left inside but an empty lead-lined box."
She repeated the story to Reine quietly, her eyes terrified pits in her white face above an airy laugh. "The box was large enough for three or four books. Do you think the books are hidden here? Or maybe they're what whoever ordered this is really looking for, but they're gone?" Her eyes flicked to the hidden door and back to Reine.
Reine quirked an eyebrow.
"Could be either, but if the box is still here, she probably left in a hurry." Her melodic voice was quiet. "People don't keep things in lead because it's stylish."
John didn't find anything interesting in the desk. There were pens and ink, a few notes that didn't really mean anything to him, a few old receipts, and the general detritus one accumulates in a desk. He did notice a relatively large clear space, though, just about the right size for a notebook or ledger.
The workmen responded to Broom when she asked them questions but they were clearly uncomfortable and she had to carry the conversations otherwise they quickly died out.
Going through the books left behind, it was a mish-mash of fiction and non-fiction with nothing of any real value. It looked like pleasure reading for someone with a voracious appetite for books of all sorts.
The shadow found the next door unlocked- it led into a surprisingly large wash room with an elaborate, luxuriously large marble bath tub. The whole room was done up in a style more akin to a spa than a private home. The bottom of the tub even had a pretty mosaic inlaid in it- an eye surrounded by a gold disk.
Desdemona paused in her conversation with Reine, eyes distant for a moment. Then, in a quiet, strained voice, she added, "The owner of the books bathed in a tub inlaid with the symbol of the demon lord of the oceans. The inlay lacks the usual runes that might cause the uninitiated distress, but I'm reasonably sure of it. An eye, surrounded by a gold disk."
Dagon's appearance is hideously monstrous and somewhat alien, being neither fully fish, eel, nor octopus; he is some foul amalgamation of all three. He has the lower body of an eel, a horrific face, and four tentacles in place of arms. Dagon is one of the largest demon lords, measuring 35 feet long. His spawn often take after him, being similarly disgusting combinations of deep sea creatures.
Unfortunately, Dagon's foul influence is not limited to the ocean depths; he is also revered by some debased coastline societies, who often maintain a façade of worshipping another deity. In these twisted communities, land dwellers mix with ichthyic beings from the depths, spawning horrible cross-breeds which have no place in the natural order of things. Marsh giants are normally the most fervent of Dagon's land-based followers, but his cult has been growing amongst humans in isolated villages, who secretly turn to his worship, sometimes on the promise of bountiful fishing or alien golden jewellery.
Some sailors worship Dagon, luring ships to collide with rocky shores and performing blood sacrifices to call forth sea monsters.
Some of Dagon's followers (particularly deep ones) also worship the Great Old Ones, most often Cthulhu, mixing the traditions of both into a single blasphemous religion. Some elder deep ones take his name for themselves, which Dagon sees as a compliment.
Dagon is usually worshipped in decaying churches, caves, or lighthouses located near the sea, or dark underwater cathedrals.
As occult knowledge poured into Desdemona's awareness, she stiffened, her eyes remote as she catalogued it all automatically. The most horrid thing was that it was merely interesting, rather than horrific-
-No, the most horrifying thing was that it didn't even feel like the shadow's knowledge. It was her own, returned to her.
Had she been among the worshippers of this eldritch monstrosity? Or had she merely learned of it in the course of... what? What could she possibly have been doing, to know this?
She forgot to keep up her conversation with Reine, staring vaguely into space while the workers and Broom moved about in the background.
The Briarstone survivors spent the rest of the afternoon assisting and supervising the packing of about half of the Booklayer's remaining stock. The workmen remained quiet, unnerved by their presence, and seemed relieved when the last box was nailed shut and shoved into the wagon outside. The workmen gave the group bobbing bows and the foreman hustled them out of the shop, gathering them outside to tell them something before climbing up onto the driver's seat.
The workmen and wagon all trundled off down the road and out of sight.
As soon as the workmen were out of sight, Reine investigated the desk in earnest and quickly found a hidden switch. She flipped it and in the quiet everyone near the counter heard a soft click coming from behind the tapestry.
Reine had followed the workers out and made sure the bookshp door was closed behind them. Then she waited, to make sure the workers were truly leaving, and hadn't forgotten anything. She frowned as she heard the foreman speaking to his team, but then she shrugged. He seemed a good man, and it wasn't his fault their reputation made things unpleasant for the townsfolk. She took in a soft breath, held it, and then let it out - along with much of her discontent.
Then she went to the desk.
"Well," Reine said, looking at the others, and then the tapestry. "There's a door back there. I'd guess this switch just unlocked it. Do we examine it first, or Desdemona's bathtub upstairs?"
"Let's check the secret door." John says.
He gives it a quick onceover:
If it appears safe, he pushes it open.
Strangely relieved at the choice, and annoyed at herself for reasons unknown, Desdemona motioned for Broom to join them. She had dropped the formal overtones once the workers were gone, and gave the other woman a small but genuine smile.
"Did you find anything of interest, Broom?" she asked. Once she'd heard the answer, she went on to describe what her shadow had found to the Doctor as well.
Once the workers had finished packing the books, Broom immediately got to work cleaning up after them. She handed the broom to her companion with the orders to begin sweeping.
While the invisible servant began that task, she continued to work on dusting off the shelves and setting the remaining books in order.
At Des' gesture she eventually joined the rest of the group as they investigated the secret door.
"Yes!" she cheerfully answered Des' very open ended question, and began to enthusiastically describe the many books she had flipped through interspersed with random and mundane tidbits of what little conversation she managed to tease from the workers about the town, their work and their personal lives.
Finding no traps on the now open door, the group swung it open. Behind the tapestry-concealed secret door was a small closet half taken up by empty book shelves. This closet probably could have held a few dozen books, at most, but now the only thing remaining was a single large parcel sitting precisely in the middle of one shelf, wrapped in wax cloth. The water-resistant cloth was tied with twine and the twine sealed with a blob of yellow wax stamped with a scarab beetle with a single eye image on its back.
Tucked under the twine and secured by the wax was a note written in smooth, flowing handwriting that said "Arlend Hyve, Elm Hill Church."
Broom glanced about the small room and pondered "Why would she have taken everything else but left this? Was she expecting Arlend to come here and pick it up?"
She took a moment as her eyes became unfocused and she cast her mind out to see if she could find any thoughts or memories on the person, the place or the symbol.
"Apparently, she expected this person to either know about the switch, or to send someone else who did. Do we see what's in it? Or do we use it as bait?"
"I've never heard of Arlend Hyve, or the Elm Hill Church."
Broom bent down admiring the the tidy package. "We do wonder what is inside, but it isn't the Count's and isn't addressed to any of us or anyone we know so maybe we shouldn't open someone else's package?"
"If we were truly the Count's... minions in all of this, who could it be addressed to but us?" Desdemona countered, her voice thin with distaste at the idea of being anyone's minion. "The Count seems rather nefarious, and I'm sorry to say, by the sound of it, so were we. Either this package was left here for us, or it was left here to hide it from us, in my opinion. And either way, we'd draw benefit from learning what lies within."
"Do what you gotta do." John says.
"I'm going to watch the front to make sure no one surprises us."
Broom cocked her head and her brow furrowed for a moment as she mulled over what Des said. Why would a package addressed to someone else be meant for them? And how was she nefarious? She had been a doctor after all.
But her hesitation passed in a moment as she peered back at the box "If you are very careful with the wax and paper, We can fix it when we are done looking inside."
Des gingerly removed the seal and unwrapped the package. Inside the wax cloth was a large book, easily weighing 10 pounds and with at least 500 pages bound between thick covers of black leather embossed with silver and with a large crystal inset on the front.
Inside, the cover page of the book read "The Pnakotic Manuscripts, as translated from the Osirian by Amana Glyciaecus Inferniatus at Tephu, 4410 AR. Original translation from the Aklo unknown." The book itself was a dense tome focusing on magical portals, teleportation, and conjuration magic, with frequent marginalia and head- and footnotes explaining concepts or terms that were difficult to translate from Osirian to Taldane. As with many works involving conjuration magic, there was a great deal of discussion about the Dark Tapestry and the great unknown powers of the universe. It would likely take hours just to skim, and days or weeks of study to really absorb the information within.
:O
Desdemona flipped quickly through the pages with only a distracted "hmm" for Broom. The farther she got, the more her eyes widened.
Finally, she carefully closed the book, but held out one hand to stop Broom from re-sealing it. "This book holds a wealth of knowledge... and powerful spells. I... I think it requires more study before we see it on its way, if that's what you all think we should do. The spells may be beyond my skill, but the other knowledge seems quite valuable. Perhaps after we solve what mysteries lie in this... quaint town, we might head to the town of Carrion Hill with it. If nothing else, locating this Arlend Hyve might shed light on our situation?"
Seeing Broom's expression, Des added, "We can tie it up neatly again after having read it, can we not?"
"Wait, we aren't going to take this book, are we?" Broom asked, a little distressed. "We mean Bartol, Yusif and the other workers know we were here all day, and the book is supposed to go to someone who is part of a secret organization. And isn't this just the same thing that the Count was doing? He took the book seller's books and didn't pay them and ruined their business. Now we are going to also take the last book they sold to someone else and damage the book seller's reputation as well? If we take this book, aren't we just doing the same thing that we were doing when we actually remembered working for the Count? Can we say that we are any different than we were before?"
"Wait!" Broom said, suddenly brightening up with an idea "Why don't we, instead of stealing the book, put in a message of our own asking for help? If these eye people are supposed to be helping protect Ustalev, then maybe if we explain what is going on they can send someone to help us find out what is going on."
"That's... certainly an idea," Desdemona answered weakly, near-faint at the thought of giving up such a treasure. She looked even more pale than usual, as though a stiff breeze might topple her.
"But if we bring the book where it belongs, surely that would be enough?" she finally rallied. "Would it really matter if we read it first? Or if it took just a bit longer? After all, the book was hidden - I don't think those workers were meant to take it." Her voice didn't quite change pitch in desperate rationalization, but her eyes were positively pleading. She didn't put the book down, either.
"I don't think we should take someone else's book." John says.
"Back in the Asylum, we took some things ... but it was an emergency and I don't think people were coming back for them."
"I don't know that this book was sold, Broom." Reine said. "With the way this compartment is set up, I think the shop owner was used to passing along secret items. Smuggling, even. If what Desdemona says about the bathtub upstairs is right, then the lady that lived here wasn't likely a "good guy," you know? And the fact that the Count frequented this place doesn't exactly make for a strong character reference, if what we've been told about who we were is even close to accurate. Do we really want something like this falling into the hands of people we don't know, before we have the chance to make sure they're good people? I think Desdemona's plan might make sense. We can keep the book safe until we know for sure that the recipient is a good person. We can even wrap up one of the other books from here, and put your note in it. Explain the situation, right? Then a book gets delivered, so the mercenaries get paid, no one's reputation gets tarnished - except maybe ours, if that's even possible - and maybe we get some help. Like you said."
Reine's explanation and compromise satisfied Broom completely. She smiled and nodded in agreement. "We will go find a replacement while you write the note." She hesitated for a moment "If that is OK with you John?"
She went out to the main room and began looking through the remaining books for one or two that would be roughly the same size as the one that had been unwrapped.
After finding suitable replacements, she returned and, after placing the note of explanation neatly on top of the stack, began labouriously re-wrapping the package in the original paper. The twine and wax seal was then repaired using the mending spell she routinely used.
Satisfied with the results she placed the package back in its original position. "Let's go see what kind of package We have waiting at the pier"
As the sun set the clear skies had turned cloudy, and by the time the group was ready to leave the pleasant day had turned into a rainy evening. The street lamps were unlit and no one was out, though whether that was because of the weather or the situation in town wasn't clear. Luckily the quartet didn't have far to go, just a few buildings down the street and a right turn had them back at the docks. In a matter of minutes they were standing before Pier 19.
The quickly worsening rain pounded on the decrepit dock’s slick boards while waves slapped against the barnacle-studded posts that held up the sagging dock. An incongruent metal pail sat rusting at the end of the pier, the rain banging on it like an overexcited child with a toy drum. A longboat with a cracked mast was moored to the left side of the pier, apparently abandoned from the looks of the trash piled up in it.
Reine, looking unconcerned about the rain and completely unaware of how her wet hair fell in exactly the right way to highlight her facial features - not that anyone could see them in the dark - looked around the dock, senses alert for an ambush.
As the light began to fade and it started to rain, Broom took out a hooded lantern from her pack and carefully filled it with oil. A few strikes from a flint and the lantern was lit.
Holding the lamp aloft, she continued along to the pier. Despite her best efforts she was eventually soaked by the heavy rain. Even so, her excitement and curiosity about what she might find waiting for her kept her from suggesting that they come back later when the weather had let up.
As she stepped out on to the pier, she slowed for a moment and cocked her head slightly. Behind the noise of the rain, there was just a faintest hint of that strange urge that she felt while out on the boat. Something very distant under the dark waters that tugged at part of her.
The sight of the broken boat drew her attention back "We wonder why We would have something delivered to Us in such a run down place? Hm, where to look. Under the bucket maybe? Or under the pier? In the trash of the broken ship would be the last place We would want to pick something up"
"It looks like some sort of sketchy hiding place." John says.
He stays close to Broom and her lantern.
"No wonder people are afraid of me if they know I threw people off this pier....."
Much invigorated after her brush with having-to-let-go-of-knowledge, Desdemona had been positively cheery compared to her usual state of vague, polite jumpiness, and had set the book carefully in her satchel with a smile at Reine. Only then had she the presence of mind to compliment Broom on how neatly the replacement had been wrapped.
Her mood was, so to speak, dampened a bit by walking out into the rain. Even with the hood of her cloak up, she just knew she'd be positively soaked before they were able to find what they were looking for.
Still, it was worth an effort to expedite their search. She peered into the dark, not noticing that the light didn't quite reach out as far as she could see. While she stuck close by Broom - mainly to stay as far away from the darkness as possible - she did look in every place she could conceive of a hidden package being (without touching anything - it did look quite nasty).
And her shadow fell over a number of places that didn't quite make sense with the direction of the light, too.
The rickety wooden pier was 60' feet long and only about 5' above the lapping waves. Broom's lantern cast a wan circle of light around the group as they moved toward the end of the dock.
Strangely, Des and Reine heard what sounded like a group of people talking to each other at the end of the pier. Over the rain they definitely heard several voices all talking at once, though it was too garbled to understand what was being said. Peering through the night, though, neither saw anyone.
Desdemona's shadow started whispering to her about monsters lurking in the dark just waiting to grab her and pull her down into the shadows.
Desdemona's face and gait grew increasingly stiff as they walked down the pier.
Were the whispers real? Was it a trap? Was it a trap by the dark??? Was it just trying to terrify her into making a mistake????
"Wait one moment, if you would. I... I feel a bit faint." Awash in a cold sweat indistinguishable in experience from the rain, Desdemona rummaged in her petticoats for a copper coin. Clutching it like a talisman, she murmured something both staccato and hissing, and raised her hand to her forehead as though about to fall onto a divan in distress, water trickling down onto her forehead beneath her hood.
She didn't know why she'd taken the coin out, now hidden in her fingers... but a flood of voices crowded her mind. Was it the shadow, in all its evil glory? Was it a ruse, to make her lose her mind?
Reine stopped when Desdemona did, taking the opportunity provided by the smaller woman's frailty to mask Reine's sudden alert wariness.
"Someone down at the end," she whispered to the others, "Don't see anything, but I can hear them. Voices."
Broom strained to listen as she tried to make out what was being said
Unable to discern anything a sudden thought struck her. She fished out the note she had been given at the Stain. "It says Our package is at the end of the pier" She looked up and peered through the downpour. "So its probably either under that bucket or under the pier. Maybe its already been found by whoever is over there. We should go have a look."
She didn't know why she'd taken the coin out, now hidden in her fingers... but a flood of voices crowded her mind. Was it the shadow, in all its evil glory? Was it a ruse, to make her lose her mind?
As if in answer to that thought, Des's mind was suddenly overwhelmed by a cacophony of mad voices, alien ideas, warring emotions, and just... wrongness. She had reached out to gently brush over the thoughts of whatever might be out at the end of the pier but her mind was stuck fast in a welter of crazy, insane, mad thoughts. She could feel herself being sucked in as an afterthought, her own mind swirling down into the madness like water down a drain. And worst of all, after just a moment of that it was hard to even tell if they were external or from within her own mind.
Broom looked with concern at the suddenly unsteady Des "Are you OK? she asked as she held on to the swaying woman to steady her.