"We should move these bodies. There may be a lot of questions if we don't."
Dramm nods numbly and follows Imedren's lead. He will very carefully lay Candace's body to rest in the boat, then help to collect the rest in silence.
When Imedren and Dramm return to Master Dreen, the merchant quickly ushers them into his office despite the ungodly hour of the morning. "What happened? Where is my daughter?" he demands.
The question was direct but Imedren knew he couldn't readily beat around the bush. Either this man would be in a rage and try to kill them or he would be in a great despair.
Imedren's own anger seemed only to have a spark left in it after the night they'd all had.
"Dreen, you're going to want to sit down for this. I'm going to ask you some questions first. What did you know of your daughters activities of late? That and how well did you know Phineas?"
"She's been spending a lot of time with Phineas. He's the son of a minor merchant family. A bit milquetoast for my tastes, but Candace seems to like him." Dreen's eyes narrow. "You're speaking of them in the past tense. Tell me what happened, damn it!"
Upon waking Tabog realizes he's not begins to softly laugh, he looks up at the desperate face of Dramm and gives him a puzzled looks. He talks in a playful manner, trying to ease the mood.
"Come on now, clockworks don't get so bent out of shape. What's a little death in your life but a bitter spice?"
He slowly stands as Imedren thinks out loud, he reaches to clasp Dramms shoulder but stops short when the man flinches. He frowns slightly, thanks him, and turns his attention to Imedren.
"Thank you, Dramm, I'll buy you a drink when you get straightened out out up there... Prepare for worst and hope for the best, right? If Dreen was in on this we'll be returning to an execution instead of a sack of money... Yeah I can walk. Looks like Dramm's got the lady in waiting; uhh, handled, so I'll help you with everything else."
As they work to get everything taken care Tabog speaks to Imedren privately. "We need to have someone watching Dramm, essentially, all the time. That is not a good look to have after something like this. If he doesn't get out of his head he'll sink... I'm talking about the like of Father Gregory..." He looks concerned but continues to work as fast as he can, considering he nearly died.
The plan is agreed upon with little argument, Bog knew things could go south and understood Imedren's concerns. His priority now was his son and his friend. Although he is concerned about Dramm's condition he also can't trust him with gathering the family, as it were. After he get's everyone to Imedren's house and quarantined Anophth, He starts towards Dreen's office and takes his cat form when next he is out of sight.
He couldn't very well hide it anymore from the man. Imedren took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm sorry Dreen. I couldn't believe it either when I heard how it happened. Phineas and your daughter, Candace, were both part of the damn cult, Dreen. They both had the horned skull marks on their arms, none of us thought to check him over before we left with him." Imedren could see the look of disbelief and anger rising on the man's face. So he continued hurriedly.
"After we'd killed the Rude Boys and while I was being attacked by some faerie creature in the tree lines, I thought we'd rescued Candace. But then Phineas apparently began muttering something about a Brotherhood. He then proceeded to stab your daughter. But that wasn't the end. She'd been possessed or impregnated by some sort of demon which came tearing out of her. The thing ripped off Phineas's head and then tried to kill us. We killed it but not all of us made it back in one piece." he eyed Dramm, momentarily. Concerned for the man's mental state but also worried that things were about to get a lot worse now.
It's not a subject he wanted to broach, but if it came up then it would come up. Plus, he needed to know what happened. Did they find Candice? They must have - he's still alive.
As he awoke, he looked around. The room was unfamiliar. The scents not the scent of his own house or store. Where was he? His clothes were torn. Some of it looked like the normal tears from when he transforms. Others look like tears from a fight. That might be problematic.
H.. hello? he called out, hoping the response would be pleasant.
Dramm grips the edge of his desk with white knuckles as Imedren tales the tragic tale. "No. NO!" With a snarl, he grabs a paperweight rom the desk and hurls it across the room, where it leaves a dent in the wall. He whirls on you, eyes blazing with fury. "She can't be dead! My only daughter! You were supposed to save her! You... You were..."
He falls back heavily in his chair, tears welling in his eyes. "Oh, Candace... My little girl... I can't even process this right now..." His mouth forms a firm line. "Get out of here. Give me back my purse and just... Just go!"
***
Uruuna? Is the you? Where am I? Anophth calls out.
Hey! My stutter is gone! I think my jaw has healed.
He sighs. A tear starts to form in his eye.
He always told me that with enough mental fortitude, I'd be able to control it. I guess I'm not prepared enough. A sniffle can be heard as he remembers his friend.
After a few moments, he continues.
I got the curse from the Faerie Queen, after my friend and I stole a lock of hair from her head. I kid you not! he says with a chuckle. My friend Cack and I snuck into the Fae realm one night. We thought it's be a great prank and some fantastic bragging rights. Plus, think of what we could make and sell! We'd be rich! And then we were caught. And she cursed us. It's not entirely the truth, but sometimes a story is a little better than the truth. And it works. I haven't seen Cack since then.
After he tells his story, he exclaims, Wait! Did you say I hurt someone?! Who? Are they ok?!
The halfling sighs and shakes her head. "Anyway, I made pastries. The boys can fill you in on what went down last night over breakfast."
When Imedren returns from the office, Dramm slowly trudges home. His awareness seems to be coming back as the hours pass and whatever ordeal happening in his mind draws to an end. He only nods when Tabog parts ways to care for Anophth, but his face is filled with guilt and shame. When he reaches home, he collapses in exhaustion. He pulls the amber from his pocket and stares at it until he is finally taken by sleep.
The next day, after filling Anophth in on the details of what went down over breakfast, Mayor Edgerton summons you to her office. "Master Dreen told me what happened last night. Poor Candace... Though it sounds like she wasn't entirely innocent in the dark dealings. It seems this Brotherhood of Shadows is more insidious than we thought. If they could get to Dreen's daughter, there's no telling who might be involved with this cult. And unfortunately, with all of the cultists you encountered dead, we still have no leads as to where to find them. Take some time to yourselves, my friends. I will let you know when we have need of your services again."
The next day, Anophth was full of worry and dread. After hearing the story of what happened and how many people he unwittingly killed, he went into a deep depression. I mean, sure, they were bad guys. But it very easily could have been one of his new friends. And there's also the possibility that one of them got away, meaning there might he another skin changer out there. Maybe he couldn't turn this into good, like Father Gregory was teaching him. Maybe he couldn't save the priest like he planned. How could he when he couldn't even control himself.
As the days and weeks went on, Anophth drifted further and further away from everyone in his life. By the second week, he had practically abandoned his store, leaving it to Uruuna and Nut to handle.
Every day, he'd wake up and just walk the streets, not really caring what happened to him. As the full moon approached, he went to the mines and stayed underground for almost a solid week, avoiding everyone he could.
When the second month came around, he did the same. But this time, someone found him. It was his old friend, Cack. The Goblin who snuck into the Fae Realm with him. The one who gave him this curse. As they spoke, the anger in Anophth rose up from somewhere deep, fueled by the remnants of the demon he consumed back on the island. Anophth grabbed his cane and hit Cack over the head with it. Then again. And again. He didn't stop until Cack's head was smeared into the ground and halfway up the walls. He screamed a primal rage, a barbaric yawp, a demonic scream - and that roar awoke something within him, forever corrupting his soul and sending him on a path he had never planned for himself.
After two months, Anophth returns. He is filthy and disheveled. He seems to have abandoned his shop and home almost entirely.
There is a shadow in his eye that does not bode well.
Uruuna was rather concerned with how dangerous your island adventure had been. "I can't leave you boys alone for a minute without you nearly getting yourselves killed! I'm not staying behind next time. Somebody's got to look after you, after all!"
She increased her focus on her warrior training, letting Anophth's shop fall by the wayside. Nutmeg did his best to keep things operating, but the business began to struggle, especially in the wake of its owner's disappearance. Despite this, Uruuna was beginning to come into her own as a fierce combatant. So much so, in fact, that she attracted the eye of Jon Crawley, the leader of the Brown Cloaks. Uruuna was ecstatic when a letter arrived from him inviting her to join the city watch.
The halfling spent several weeks at the Brown Cloak Headquarters in Coins, training under now-Lieutenant Alyse, who had earned a promotion for her work in the Grievings case. Uruuna honed her combat prowess, and by the end of the two months, she had earned her eponymous cloak and the rank of Private in the organization.
Uruuna joined Alyse on her patrols, clad in her new suit of soft leather armor, eager to do her part to ensure the safety of Crossings...
Joy starts to split her time between the vegetable patch and Anophth's shop.
One of her coworkers, who had brought her to the patch and introduced her, Miss Tilly Greens, is worn out. And Joy is doing even less than before, running off to do New God-knows-what with strange people.
And with a heavy heart, Joy one day realises that she has one fewer friend.
When she is alone the night after, she finds a mirror to stand in front. And a door locked behind her.
And changes to her true shape.
The bundle of sticks are there, the green eyes staring back at her.
And...a green glow from my chest? That's new!
Joy gingerly tries to examine where the glow is coming from, and it appears to be a strange small twig of what can best be described as a crystalline wood. That is glowing green.
Focusing on it for hours longer than she realises, Joy starts to *feel* the glow.
And all it portends...
Joy does her best to juggle growing vegetables, helping Nutmeg and Uruuna out in the shop, and secretly practising "feeling" the crystal twig embedded in her chest. She has realised that it is starting to awaken senses and feelings elsewhere in her. She can sense magic! And shape it, a little at least.
It is all very engrossing. And she only realises the others have had a dreadful night sometime after they return from the island.
The Rude Boys again! And cultists! And a demon!
She swears to herself, that she will be able to help them much more when such terrors rise again!
So she practices. And practices. And practices.
The vegetables grow very well indeed.
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"My! We thank you for the time you've given us! It's been so long since we had the freedom to do as we pleased." With no expression Tabog stares at the mayor. He becomes dramatic and wieldy with the rest of his speech.
"If only the money we were promised was delivered to us, we would all be in much better repair. That is not of your concern though, your honor. Dreen, obviously, has recently fallen on hard times. I would never seek to take the well earned and needed coin from someone in such a state. It is unfortunate though that my companions and I have suffered such a blow from this endeavor. Dealing with the gangsters in this town as well as the this apparent cult has put many of us out of commission. I hope the the time you have set aside for us, to take for ourselves, is enough to recover fully from this terrible conquest. I can't say we will all be ready, the next time you call us... Our weapons and armor, what little we scraped together, will be enough for another fight.. I hope, for all our sake's that what little we have will be enough for you. Thank you for your kindness Lady Edgerton, may you rest easy this night."
With a deep and exaggerated bow, Tabog turns on his heel and begins to walk out of the room.
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The mayor sighs and holds up her hand. "Wait! I suppose you deserve some compensation for your hardship. While I can't give you nearly as much as Dreen promised, I can authorize a small payment to keep your equipment functional."
"I know you didn't have to do that, Madame Mayor. Your generosity will surly go directly towards defending your citizens."
With perhaps a too large smile, Tabog bows once more and continues to leave the room, this time he nods at his companions, winking at them with a knowing look.
After he woke up and had breakfast, Anophth started to grow quiet. It was unusual for the goblin - he was the one who never stopped talking, never stopped dealing. Yet here he was, quiet as a mouse. He seemed to be hiding within himself.
When the mayor summoned them, Anophth kept to the back, not wanting to talk. The revenge they achieved he didn't remember. He put his friends in danger. He failed to rescue the girl. He ruined his chances with Master Dreen. It was unlikely he'd ever build his shop up to anything respectable.
The two shillings wasn't nearly enough for what he had planned. What was the point? Why did it matter?
Watching Dramm take to drinking - it seemed like the right idea. During the next two months, anytime anyone did see Anophth was with Dramm at the bars and pubs, drinking. A shadow had fallen over Anophth, and it wasn't for the better.
Dramm did not appear from his home for several days after the night on the island. It had been a vicious fight, and whatever break he suffered seemed to weigh heavily on him. He even avoided the others for a few days. When he finally did see them, he was shy and quieter than usual.
Then the murders began again. Something had followed them back from the island, one of the men bitten by Anophth's rabid fangs during his change. People didn't say it to his face, but even Dramm felt the change in the air when they began blaming him. People shuttered their windows when he walked by, kids were drawn to their mother's sides when he looked at them. The fear was palpable. Eventually, even the inn keep that Dramm worked under had to send him away.
"Look, yer a good lad, Dramm. Yer quiet, ya do yer work, and yer great with a knife. Not even a bad cook. Learnt a thing or two from ol' Ogden. But I can't keep ya. Folks is just too afraid wit all the business ya been mixed up in. I'm sorry, Dramm. I have my own ta look after, and I can't be doin' that if yer scarin' way the locals. I got yer last pay, but ya gotta find new work..."
Dramm was left with the last of his coin. Ogden had treated him well, and he was sad to see that the fear surrounding him had affected the inn keep so personally. Something about this finally jarred Dramm out of his numbness. By the end of the week, he appeared at Zekia's house one night, carrying a sack filled with bloody remains.
"I need help with this." he stated simply as he came into the hut.
Over the course of the next two months, Dramm continued his studies with a renewed vigor. Something changed that night, and the murders stopped. Rumors flew about Dramm's involvement, but fear kept them from confirming their suspicions. As long as the creature was dead, they were content to simply gossip and speculate.
Dramm's shame was clear when he returned to the group, but he seemed determined to seek them out again.
Dramm found a new opportunity when he went looking for Anophth. He had not seen the goblin in some time, and his worry had grown. A gloom had taken his friend, and Dramm kept a wary eye open. One day he found the shop unattended by anyone other than Nutmeg. Anophth was nowhere to be found, and Uruura was training with the Brown Cloaks. Concerned, Dramm motioned awkwardly for the young lad to come from behind the counter.
Dramm is worried about the small boy running the shop alone. When he asks Nutmeg, the boy is clearly overwhelmed and very upset. After some time thinking, Dramm kneels down next to Nutmeg.
"Can you read?" Nutmeg nods enthusiastically in response.
"Good." Dramm pulls his manuscript from his coat. "My brother wrote this. I used to work for him, did you know that? He needed me to gather things, and I would do it so he could study and work." Dramm begins to thumb through the pages. There is an unusual reminiscent quality to his face as he does so.
"You need help. Too much to do. I'm not good at talking with people, but I am good at numbers. How about a deal? I work for you at the shop and help you keep it stocked. You give me a job, and in return I will teach you to read this. It is different from your normal words, but you're a smart boy. What do you say?" Dramm offers a handshake.
Nutmeg's energy makes Dramm smile. "That's a good lad. You stand behind the counter and greet people like Anophth does. You're good at talking, like your Dad." With that, Dramm seats himself at a stool next to Nutmeg and begins pointing at different symbols and parts and formula, breaking them down as simply as he can. At times, he even shows Nutmeg the spell in action.
Over the next few weeks, Dramm helps to teach Nutmeg what he can, unsure if the child has any real magical aptitude. Still, the teaching helps with his own studies as he breaks down words, components, and incantations. In return, he helps the boy keep the shop afloat in Anophth's absence.
Only once does Nutmeg ever see Dramm forbid him a question about the magic in the book. There is a section that they always seem to skip, and when Nutmeg asks about it, Dramm sighs heavily.
"That is transformation magic, Nutmeg. Never use it. It twists the body and soul into things it's not. It's... evil magic, Nutmeg. It's wrong to use power to become something you aren't. It hurts people. It can even kill them. Promise that you'll never use that magic, Nutmeg. Promise, alright?" There's a hint of desperation in Dramm's voice as he makes the boy promise.
One day while Dramm is visiting the shop with Nutmeg, the bell jingles as a young man enters. He is clearly a farmer, carrying canned produce with him. He seems taken aback when he spots Dramm.
The man approaches quickly, and even Dramm looks surprised.
"Flint? What are you doing here?" Dramm greets him with a handshake. The dusty haired man looks slightly wild with a bushy beard. Nutmeg's sharp little eyes are quick to note that the man is also missing two fingers on his left hand.
"Dramm, I don't believe it. There were rumors about a strange young man who looked like you. They said you killed monsters! I was too curious to turn away. Wow, you look... different." The man eyes Dramm up and down. [b]"I'm here to sell some harvest and trade some stores as well. The village needs money again for metal." There's an awkward pause between the two, and the man fidgets for a moment.
"Look, Dramm... I'm sorry about what happened. You know, with Ezra. Things are changing back home. The Long Mother... ever since what happened she's been demanding more." At the mention of the "Long Mother", Dramm's face flushes with rage. His fingers tighten into a fist. Seeing this, Flint takes a step back and begins talking quickly. [b]"Dramm, please, I'm not here to bring up the past. I'm just worried, alright? Things back home are getting strange. The elders are going along with it, and most of the village is as well. We don't really have a choice, you see? We need her to survive Dramm. I think it's making people afraid."
"Good. They should be afraid. She's a monster. She should be dead." The color drains from Flint's face at the venom that pours from Dramm's mouth. "She'll devour them, Flint. One way or another."
"Dramm, please... we need the Long Mother. Not all of us can just up and leave like you did. We have family left there, I've got a wife and child..."
"She'll kill them too. She's keeping the village alive with gifts and harvests because we were too weak to survive ourselves. She's raising us like pigs."
Flint looks hurt by the words. Finally, he speaks again.
"Dramm... I know what happened hurt... but you're still part of the village in some way. It's a part of you. You can't run from it, you know that right? I just thought you deserved to know what's happening at home." Dramm's eyes soften slightly. He nods slowly and reluctantly.
"Yes. Thank you, Flint. I have some money. I'll buy something. Take this message home though. I am still alive. I will come for the Long Mother. She will be punished for what happened to Ezra."
Flint's fear is evident, but he nods. Dramm purchases a few vegetables and a can of beets as payment. Soon, Flint is ready to leave.
"Dramm, despite everything it's good to see you again. Take care of yourself, alright? Ezra never wanted you to be unhappy." Dramm says nothing as Flint leaves.
Over the next few weeks, Dramm begins to make regular visits to the medical tent that the group visited after their encounter at the Moore House. He's taken to watching the doctors and nurses move about administering treatment. Occasionally he takes notes and watches intently. If asked, he simply says that "Zekia told me to watch and learn." He does his best to stay out of the way of the hustle and bustle.
Dramm also begins to visit Father Gregory as time goes on. He talks with the man in his room, though little comes back to him. Still, Dramm makes the trip every day, often speaking of Imedren's crisis of faith and Anophth's depression.
The boy promises not to delve into the forbidden tradition. He seems to have a knack for this sort of thing...
Later, he remains quiet during your conversation with Flint, but his inquisitive eyes take everything in...
Imedren had walked out of Dreen's office feeling sorry for the man but also glad that his paranoid thinking hadn't been right.
When he'd gotten back home later he'd picked her up and hugged her dearly despite the amount of pain he was in, telling her all about what had happened.
Imedren felt uncomfortable that they had been failed to get any leads on the cult's activities. He was impressed with Tabog's ability to convince Mayor Edgarton to give some small compensation for their efforts.
At some point he made his way to see Father Gregory. The middle aged dark eyed clerk at the front desk was curt and to the point when Imedren walked in and asked to see the patient. Before making entry to the asylum, the clerk made sure that he gave up his bags in order to not give anything dangerous to the patients. While visiting, he talked at Length to Gregory regarding what he had seen on the island and what he had gone through. Though the former priest could not respond to him clearly, and maybe not understand him anymore at all, he had to let him know they were trying to find those that had done this to him.
When he left that day and returned home later that night, he found a set of panpipes in his bag. He'd thought he had gotten the wrong bag but everything else in there was his and it was all still there. He returned the next day to ask about the item put into his bag but a different clerk, a pleasant wide eyed woman, was there instead. Upon inquiring about the man from the day before the woman claimed she only worked on some days and didn't really interact with anyone else from the other days and that perhaps he should. Without further leads, he returned home.
The pipes themselves were hauntingly beautiful when he finally decided to play them. Although he did not have much time to practice he found them soothing and helped to relax his mind opening himself to stray thoughts.
Over the next weeks he spent the time healing. The wound from the demon did heal though it became a strange looking scar that still seemed to hurt ever so slightly when Imedren touched it. The wounds made him think about Anophth, Dramm, and Tabog. All of them had been wounded or transformed in some way. Keeping an eye on them to make sure they didn't fall too far into despair. This of course was most easily done by finding them at the bars in the evenings or inviting them over to his and Uruuna's home when they could.
Practicing with his magic he recalled how the demon had been able to move itself about in the blink of an eye and wondered if perhaps it would be possible for him to do the same. He started trying to experiment with his magic and whenever he did the wound started to burn. Focusing on that sensation caused his perception of the world to become hazy and inconsistent. He seemed to be able to draw in strange flows of energy before long, he found himself moving from one area to another.
He kept pushing himself to speak as a minister with renewed vigor after having seen the demon appear. However his efforts still fell on deaf ears in regards to the New God. Despite failing to earn their respect, the continued patronage of Mayor Edgarton let him get through the worst of it.
Joy spends more and more time in the shop. And over time lets Nutmeg realise that she can do a little magic too. Enchant plants and berries, that sort of thing.
Someone has to help Nutmeg, and I can.
When Dramm comes by, she smiles, wanting to get something off her chest.
"Mister Dramm, I think it is a good thing that you are doing, even after all that horrible business on the island. Learning to heal people. I can...I can do a little bit of it too. And make plants grow! I think I can help next time."
There is a streak of stubborn determination there. How much is the folly of youth is another matter...
Dramm is surprised when Joy suddenly approaches him one day. He had been spending a lot of time in the shop with Nutmeg, but young Joy had always been a point of shyness for him. New people, especially children, made him very nervous. Her enthusiasm and determination catches him off guard. It takes him a long time to answer.
"Dramm is fine. Mister isn't part of my name." He begins to flip through his manuscript nervously. "I saw you outside the Moore House. Dangerous place for children. You shouldn't go to places like that."
A long moment passes as he hopes that his words will be enough, but Joy is clearly not one to be easily swayed. Her eyes remain locked on Dramm, and he begins to fidget. Finally he closes the book and kneels down next to the girl with a long sigh.
"Joy... You seem to think I am some sort of noble hero. I do not think you understand who I am or what I do."
He gestures to the diagrams and spells he has been working on in the manuscript, pointing out several that call for physical suffering in order to work.
"Yes, I am able to heal, but I am not a good person. I do not learn to heal because I want to save others. I heal because it allows me to destroy things that... hurt people. Hurt them in more than just their bodies." Dramm rubs the nubs on his left hand in nervous habit as he speaks. "What I am doing is dangerous. You could die. Painfully and fearfully. A child should not face that. Bringing you along would be accepting that I have a hand in that death."
Dramm studies Joy's face carefully for her response.
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After Anophth left Dramm at the bar, he walked the streets thinking about his old friend that caused his condition. His mind drifted to revenge and hatred as the demon flesh inside him warped his perception of reality. Plans started to formulate in his mind; where would Cack be hiding? What would he do when he saw his old friend? Why had his friend abandoned him to his fate. What did he have to say for himself?
Without realizing it, Anophth found his way back to his old home - the Crossings Landfill and the mines the goblins carved out of the mountains of refuse. He asked around for Cack and found that his old friend was still around; although he kept away from most others. Rumors started up around the goblin - rumors of dangers and curses.
It took a few weeks, but eventually Anophth found Cack.
Hey old friend.
A-a-anophth! What are you doing here? Cack responded with honest surprise.
I've been looking for you.
Why? Y-you shouldn't be here. Cack said, his voice skipping with worry. Haven't you heard there's a dangerous beast here? It's not safe. You should return home.
Oh, I've heard. I know what you are, Cack.
What do you mean? I'm not anything! Cack lied.
DON'T YOU LIE TO ME! DON'T YOU F!@%ING LIE! The screams came out like the scratching of hellfire as the corruption inside Anophth fueled the rage.
I'm not! I-I-I swear, Anophth! But Cack's lies proved feeble.
YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU! I know what the Fairy Queen did you you! I was there, Cack. I WAS F++#ING THERE! I SAW IT ALL! Anophth roared.
No.. I... Cack stammered. A tear crawled out of his eye and wormed it's way down the goblin's face. Genuine concern for his old friend clouded his thoughts. I'm sorry, Anophth. I never meant for this to happen. More tears followed.
YOU HAVE RUINED ME, CACK! Anophth sreamed. The tip of his cane cracked against the side of Cack's head, and Anophth didn't even seem to notice. YOU HAVE DESTROYED MY LIFE! Crack. RUINED MY BUSINESS! Crack. KILLED MY CHANCES OF GROWING OUT OF THIS HELLHOLE! Crack. LOST MY ONLY CHANCE AT REDEMPTION! Crack. I CAN'T FACE MY FRIENDS! Crack. I CAN'T FACE A F+*+ING MIRROR! Crack. Crack. Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Anophth stopped. As the demonic rage died down, he finally looked at his friend. Blood was coating the cavern, covering Anophth and painting the walls like linear pointillist art.
As realization dawned, a small fragment of Anophth's mind snapped. He collapsed to the ground and laid there. He cried. He cried himself to sleep. He cried for Cack, for himself, for Candice, for Father Gregory, for everyone.
When he awoke, he had a new purpose. He would cleanse this city of all cultists, of all Skinchangers, of all demons. He would do as Father Gregory wanted him to do and use his powers for Good. What Anophth didn't realize is that this is not what Father Gregory wanted. This was
a twisted demonic version of what Father Gregory wanted, and his future actions just may further the goals of the Demon Lord.
Dramm sees determination, more than he might expect for a girl barely into her mid-teens.
"So Dramm it is then, okay. I *know* it's dangerous. You did see me outside the Moore House, and I saw you, the others - and Father Gregory. If a good man, loved by many, can be dragged off and tortured like that, made mad, *no one* is safe. I'm not safe, Nutmeg isn't safe."
Her eyes strain, clearly showing this is something hugely important to her.
"I don't know everything you do, Dramm, or everything you're hoping to do. But do you see? I can't just wait here, hoping that bad men and worse won't come by and snatch us! I can help, I know I can!"
Dramm rubs his face and his brow furrows at Joy's words.
"I doubt you will stay away if told. It is better if you are assisted then. Less chance of an accident." He stands again, running his hands through his hair as he considers Joy's argument. "Very well. Arguing is pointless, you will do what you want anyway. It is better to receive everyone's blessing and assistance. I will help you, but there will be rules. You are to study your magic. I will take you to someone who can help in your studies. You will watch. Silently, unless addressed. Ezekia is to be respected, and if she rejects the request, you will accept her judgment without question."
Dramm begins to pace. He is clearly stressed at Joy's determination to be in harm's way.
"Second, you are to practice daily and show me the results twice a week. If you fail to do so, I will not endorse your accompanying us. You will need to be at full strength to survive."
"Third, and this rule is immutable: If I tell you to run, you run. You do not fight, you do not try to save those in danger. You can save no one if you are dead, so you must live. If ordered, you will leave us. You will leave TaBog. You will leave Anophth. You will leave Imedren. You will leave me. And you will live. Am I clear?" His eyes are grim and un-budging as he finished the last statement.
Ezekia? She might find out! But he surely won't budge, I've pushed him too much as it is!
Joy goes silent, as she often does.
But then she makes one huge nod.
"I'm learning as it is. But...maybe it would be good to learn from someone else. And you might think better of me. I'll do it, like you say, three rules and all."
She pauses for a moment, trying to restore her usual quiet demeanour.
"Is Ezekia nice?"
Dramm nods his agreement to the terms. Her question about Ezekia causes him to pause.
"... Yes." he says at length with an uncharacteristic amount of softness. Perhaps some sadness as well? It vanishes from his face as quickly as it appeared. "She is demanding, but kind. It will be good for you to learn from someone else. Practice with only yourself creates poor habits. Come, sit. We can begin now." He produces his book and begins flipping through it.
"I think she will like you. You are a good kid. People forget to tell good kids that."
Good? Well...I'm quiet.
"You make a lot of sense sometimes, Dramm. And thank you. It's nice to hear that."
Two months after the Dreen incident, Ezekia summons you all to her hut near the Dark Waters. Commander Rena is leaving her hut as you arrive--she gives you all a polite nod before continuing on her way.
Ezekia offers you all tea as she welcomes you into her home. It's not that large, and it is rather crowded with all of you gathered there. "Thank you all for coming. I have something that I'd like for you to look into. Out past the little village of Hamlet, there's a pig farmer who, appropriately, goes by the name of Farmer Ham. Over the last few nights, his fine hogs have gone missing, one by one. He's offering a gold crown to anyone who can put a stop to the thefts.
"Aside from the monetary reward, though, I feel like something more is going on out there. I doubt it's a case of simple thievery. I checked with Commander Rena, but she can't spare her men to go all the way out to the farm to investigate. I'm hoping that you will be willing to make the trek. If there is a danger to the people in the countryside, it needs to be dealt with before it can cause further harm."
Despite the demon flesh chipping away at Anophth's soul, he still has a strong desire to do good. He wants to be a good person. Of course we can do that, Anophth says. His mood has cheered up drastically since he returned from the mines, although he remains uncertain as to why Nutmeg reacted so poorly around him.
Imedren nodded to the militia commander as they went inside. He declined to drink any of the tea that Ezekia had made for them. He started to laugh at the absurdity of the names as he nursed his a recently closed cut along his forearm.
"The last time something happened which started out simple, it nearly became our undoing." Imedren began, after listening to what Ezekia said. "You said that Commander Rena wasn't able to spare her men but would it be possible to convince her to supply us with proper equipment? Perhaps if it even required another favor from us?" He thought about what else had plagued them since that night some months back and nearly mentioned it but he held his tongue.
"I don't want to come that close to death again."
Ezekia frowns. "Unfortunately, she doesn't have any extra munitions to spare, either. There are rumors of demonic forces mustering in the Desolation, so she needs everything she has on hand at the moment to ensure the safety of Crossings."
Arriving at the hut Tabog offers his hand in greeting, unbeknownst to Ezekia it was a hand-kiss gesture that lasted a fraction of a moment too long.
He happily accepted the tea but wasn't much of one to partake either. He listened carefully at her words, trying to think of the types the bump-in-the-night creatures that were large enough to scoop up pigs without a sound.
He was sympathetic to Imedren's concerns, equally dissatisfied with the response.
The greed this city has... You'd think every single one of them were living in the slums too!
"Why did he wait more then a night or two to get assistance? That's a lot of money he's lost already. Are there anymore hogs left?"
"Might have just taken too long to contact anyone who cares." Dramm ventures, "This city doesn't have a lot of extra resources. Guards aren't interested in risking themselves recently."
Ezekia narrows her eyes at Tabog's inappropriate greeting. She subtly wipes her hand with a napkin afterwards while still maintaining her decorum.
"Aye, it's only been two nights so far. But another night or two will likely pass before you can reach his farm, so I'd suggest you not delay."
"Do you think that Joy is ready, Ezekia? She has to learn sometime, and she is growing very quickly." He glances around the room for the young lass, "That and I'm not sure she wouldn't follow us anyway."
Ezekia inclines her head. "The best way to hone her magic is in the field. I'll trust you to keep her safe from harm, Dramm."
Two days? We should get some horses, we need to get there as quick as possible, Anophth says.
Inside, Anophth is filled with worry and doubt and confusion. He's worried he'll lose control again. Only nine more days until the full moon. He doubts his own ability, as every plan he has put forth hasn't worked out the way he wanted - his business, father Gregory, trying to be a good person - all of it. And he is confused about what he really wants, because although he wants to do good, the demon inside of him wants to take control and burn the world.
"Horses... they're expensive. Can we afford them? I still have a few shillings left over." Dramm produces a pinch of 4 silver coins from his pockets. "We may be able to rent them from the stables at a cheaper cost. If they die, we'll be paying the debt, so we should be careful."