'Self-control' is the moment between seeing a desired thing and reaching for it.
Hawk looks at the rich (and some cheap) goods with surprise, not touching anything, yet. ”I didn’t grow up with money… so I find it hard to reconcile that all this would be summed up as ‘minor possessions and trinkets’.” He turns to Delara, ”May we examine them more closely?”
”Neither did I,” Delara replies, ”though I’m not going to pretend I haven’t done well for myself. And please, feel free to examine what you like.”
The sorcerer-turned-tchotchke-collector briefly admires the shell and looks at it from all sides, seeing if there is anything carved into it, before putting it aside. He moves onto the rings (cheap or not) and begins sorting them by rough size before examining them. Mostly for Delara's benefit, he explains to his companions, ”We don’t know what Miss Irrica remembers. So, we’re looking for possessions a child might value. They could be child-sized. Or they could simply be unique – something that would stand out in a child’s memory. With luck we’ll find something with her initials scratched in it, the family motto, or their crest.”
As he sorts then examines the pieces (leaving the promising locket until after all the rings), he asks, “Ma’am, you mentioned having an evaluation done. May I know how much this lot was appraised for? I assume your selling price will be north of that estimate.”
"Based on my own experiences, you never know what might catch a child's eye," Delara says. "In some ways I'd say the shell is most likely to capture a child's imagination, but also context could matter. A babe used to being held by her mother might remember she always wore black earrings, for example." She picks up a pair of dangle earrings hung with obsidian. "Of course this is purely conjecture," she smiles.
"I did," Delara agrees, doing some mental calculations. "Everything here I had insured for 280 gold pieces. This doesn't include the items my daughter now wears, including a ring which is the single most valuable item. While I'm not personally attached to any of it, she may be less willing to part with the pieces she's taken a shine to."
"Based on my own experiences, you never know what might catch a child's eye," Delara says. "In some ways I'd say the shell is most likely to capture a child's imagination, but also context could matter...”
”Honestly, the shell captures my imagination. It’s beautiful.” Hawk chuckles. ”I agree you never know what a child values. My mother has this odd and dark little painting in her study that I’ve always, well, it’s always stood out fondly in my memory for no reason I can name... But, we have to start somewhere since Miss Irrica isn’t particularly forthcoming about her childhood remembrances.”
"This doesn't include the items my daughter now wears, including a ring which is the single most valuable item. While I'm not personally attached to any of it, she may be less willing to part with the pieces she's taken a shine to.”
Hawk smiles, ”That is certainly the young lady’s prerogative. We would like your permission to speak with your daughter to at least discuss the matter. That way we can tell Miss Irrica we have dotted every ‘i’ and crossed every ‘t’.” Having gone through the rings Hawk picks up the earrings Delara had dangled as well as the locket. He examines both objects carefully.
He is almost relieved at the value of the goods. He had been bracing for an eye-bleeding price of thousands of gold wheels. Not that he had 500, 400, or even 280 gold pieces to spend.
”That’s fine by me, though Andama has been a little challenging of late,” Delara smiles wryly. ”I mostly wanted to pick fights at her age so I thank Erastil that she just wants to be left alone. Still, I expect a certain level of courtesy when we have visitors.” She rises and bids you all to follow her. Exiting the parlour through a different door you come into a large lounge, with a lengthy dining table as well as sofas and chairs arranged around a smaller coffee table.
A middle-aged bearded man finely clad in a warrior’s garb, and openly wearing a sword respectfully bows to you all as you enter. ”Ma’am,” he says to Delara, who acknowledges the gesture. While he is roughly of an age with Delara, the interaction suggests that it’s far more likely the man is her bodyguard rather than her spouse.
”Andama,” Delara calls.
”What?” comes a response from behind a door.
Sighing quietly, Delara says, ”We have visitors. Please could you attend us for a few minutes.”
A door opens and a girl of around sixteen stands there. She has her mother’s features but her dark hair contains none of the grey and she’s physically less imposing. It seems unlikely this girl has spend a lot of time hefting blades.
”Would you be so kind as to let us take a look at your ring please?” Delara asks.
”I’d rather not,” the girl replies.
”Andama!” her mother says sternly.
A cross expression rises on the girl’s face in reaction. ”I don’t want you to,” she retorts.
”This is not acceptable behaviour,” Delara admonished, trying to keep her tone even.
”I said no!” she suddenly screams.
The sound of steel being drawn turns your heads as the man closes in on Majara, saying, ”You heard her. I cannot allow you to hurt Andama.”
Shocked at the sudden eruption of violence, Delara shouts, ”Ridinion! What is this madness? Stand down.”
As she is speaking, her daughter lunges at Hawk.
”Do not hurt them!” Delara cries. ”Whatever is happening, do not hurt them!”
Reflexes honed by years of battle, Roger and Nerissia are not caught entirely unaware by the unexpected fight.
Initiative - surprise round
Roger
Ridinion
Nerissia
Andama
Roger has been feeling a little more at home due to Delara's surprising hospitality. However, as guard was just about to finish lowering, raised voices and ringing steel rouses him out of it in the nick of time.
"What sorta mutiny is this?!" Looking at the situation, he decided to moe towards Ridinion, seeing him as the greatest threat with steel in hand.
Roger acts swiftly to intercept the swordsman’s attack on Majara, running to stop him and drawing his own blade on the way. Ridinion swings his sword at the pirate for his trouble.
Nerissia commands Alocer to aid Roger, ”Incapacite, don’t kill,” and takes a shot of her own, thudding an arrow into the man's shoulder. The blow puts him off his stride as his return attack on Alocer misses.
The ring on Andama’s left hand - presumably the one that you were hoping to view - starts to shimmer and write, uncoiling itself from her finger and slipping to the floor. It writhes as it does so, the diamonds on the ring expand rapidly and darken to a slate grey. Other scales form next to it and the former ring lengthens into a small snake-like creature that rears up. It has piercing scarlet eyes and hisses, ”Yessss… defend the girl and those who would steal her possssssessssssions.”
It turns its gaze on Emma. ”You should help usssss. Protect those who wish harm on the girl.” The words are cunning and carry the power of suggestion
From somewhere Andama appears to have got a small blade and she slashes wildly at Hawk, driven on by the serpent’s goading. She displays no skill with it and in her madness hits only air.
Initiative - surprise round:
Roger
Ridinion
Nerissia
Andama
Initiative:
Roger
Majara
Emma
Hawk
Ridinion
Nerissia
Serpent
Delara
Andama
Fear and delight.
The sorcerer tries to step back and runs afoul of the dining room table. Hawk is delighted to see a raktavarna in the flesh… and ring. He is equally ‘dismayed’ when he realizes he is pinned against a table by three women, two of whom may be inclined to kill him. He spares a moment to determine his physical skills are yet again inadequate to the task of saving him. Despite his family’s opinions on such matters, Hawk was finding more and more reason to veer from the typical path. But that was a decision for another day. At the moment, he had larger problems. If he could just kill the rakshasha, maybe its spells would break. Of course, rakshasha weren’t without their defenses…
”A raktavarna rakshasha controls them both! It deflects magic and blows. Piercing or good weapons are best. ‘Ware the bite!” He doesn’t have time to say much else. He tries to weave a potent spell while avoiding the girl’s dagger and Emma’s sword. Managing to do both, he sends a bolt of fire into the creature’s flared hood and head, hoping his best spell can punch through its innate resistance.
2nd Spells (4): x
1st Spells (7): x
Dancing Lights (3):
Effects:
Mage Armor = +4 AC/FF for 4 hrs
Although it twists itself away to try and avoid the full force of Hawk’s spell, the raktavarna is still badly burned from the magical fire that lances into it.
"Oh this is fun," Majara says, blinking, as things go in a direction none of them had expected.
Her eyes dart between the snake-thing revealed, the girl, the guard...
She doesn't know anything about the creature that Hawkren hasn't already shared, so with that, she focuses on dealing with the multitude of threats.
A bag of sticky stuff such as she'd thrown in the caverns launches towards the ensorcelled bodyguard...
That done, Majara hurries in the direction of the snakeshifter.
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"It's weak to good? Aye, Emma, you've got this! Give it a good 'ole uh.. good-en-ing?"
Roger yells encouragement before focusing on his own battle, intending to lock blades and then pummel Ridinion with the flat and hilt.
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It turns its gaze on Emma. ”You should help usssss. Protect those who wish harm on the girl.” The words are cunning and carry the power of suggestion.
For a moment, Emma feels an alien presence slither into her mind, cold and insistent. Her hand instinctively moves to her sword's hilt. Yes, why shouldn't she help them? The girl needs protection... from whom? The confusion lasts only seconds before Emma's training and faith surge forward, burning away the fog of manipulation like morning sun through mist.
She draws Redemption with purpose, the holy blade's light pulsing brighter as if sharing in her indignation.
"I think NOT," Emma growls, her voice steady and clear. She catches Hawk's wary glance from the corner of her eye before it transitions to relief as he sees she's shaken off the enchantment.
Emma turns fully toward the serpentine creature, her stance shifting from defensive to offensive. "Attempting to corrupt my mind and twist my purpose? You face a paladin of Iomedae, creature. Your deceptions find no purchase here!"
With Redemption held high, she advances, calling upon the Inheritor's divine power. Holy energy crackles along the blade as Emma brings judgment to bear upon the beast.
Shrugging off the raktavarna’s magic-laced words, Emma steps forward and, divine power running through her sword arm, swings Redemption and severs the creature’s head. With a soft hiss the rakshasa’s two parts flop to the floor. Flailing wildly, Andama lashes out at Emma as she moves away but her attempted attack is well wide of the mark.
Majara’s bag splurges all over Ridnion’s legs, the sticky substance within instantly hardening and preventing him from being able to nimbly retreat. Roger takes advantage to bash him on the side of the head with the flat of his blade.
The raktavarna’s death doesn’t seem to snap Delara’s bodyguard out of the subtle whisperings placed in his mind and retreat is not something he considers an option. He retaliates with a swing at the pirate. Roger is wise to it, however, and deflects it with his own sword.
Alocer slips around the other side of Ridinion, trying to position himself to flank with Roger and snaps at the swordsman’s arm. Nerissia takes aim with another arrow, again aiming to incapacitate, and both mistress and loyal companion land the hits they were intending.
Andama continues to struggle too, despite her mother’s pleading to snap out of it. With a pained expression on her face, Delara wraps her daughter in a bear hug, pinning her arms by her side.
Initiative:
Roger
Majara
Emma
Hawk
Ridinion
Nerissia
Delara
Andama
”Hold her for a moment, ma’am. Your bodyguard is the larger concern.” With the girl restrained, Hawk slides around the table before throwing a magically conjured ball of webbing at the battling warrior.
2nd Spells (4): x
1st Spells (7): xx
Dancing Lights (3):
Effects:
Mage Armor = +4 AC/FF for 4 hrs
With the snake creature vanquished, Emma hopes that it might break the spell that the others seem to be under - but unfortunately, a quick glance is all she needs to note that it is not the case. Delara seems to have Andama under control for the moment, leaving the bodyguard, Ridinion, as the greater of the two threats.
She steps around the two struggling women, wincing slightly at the situation, and begins making her way towards Ridinion, to try and bring the man down without any lasting harm.
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Majara lets out a low sharp whistle at seeing Emma's highly effective attack. "Not bad, Blackford."
But it doesn't end the fight. As Majara's already thrown a tanglefoot bag at the bodyguard, another one won't do much else.... and she has few non-lethal options at her disposal, so Majara darts towards the struggling daughter to see if she can be of assistance there-- drawing her own dagger as she goes.
"Tougher'n most- if only that thick skull kept out magic." Roger's impressed by the bodyguard holding out, but nonetheless seeks to put an end to that, booting a chair out of the way and trying to bring the man down with another blunt blow.
Trying to tangle up Delara’s bodyguard further, Hawk launches a ball of webbing at him, the gluey strands smothering him but he somehow wriggles free of the worst of it, his movement unhindered. Roger takes advantage of his inability to defend himself properly while he escapes the spell and bludgeons Ridinion with another powerful blow. Emma rushes over from where she cleaved the raktavarna in two, while Majara leaves the others to it and successfully relieves your host’s daughter of her weapon.
Now opposite Roger, Alocer bites again, using force rather than teeth, while Nerissia’s bow hums once more, sending another arrow at Ridinion. Both attacks beat the man’s beleaguered defences and he finally crumples to the floor, unconscious.
With Ridinion down and the raktavarna, the real cause of the trouble, slain, Andama suddenly goes limp in her mother’s smothering hug. Disarmed and distraught, she looks equal parts confused and horrified, unable to stop tears beginning to fall. ”Shh,” Delara soothes her, stroking her hair. ”It’s over. Everything is going to be fine, nothing here is your fault.”
To you, she says, "If you could relieve Ridinion of his sword and armour and lay him on the sofa here I'd appreciate it. Hopefully he won't wake up with anything worse than a bad headache but let's err on the side of caution."
"Of course, Lady Delara," Emma murmurs. She kneels down next to the fallen bodyguard, gingerly taking the sword from his hands to place it aside for the moment. She motions to Roger to help her begin removing the armor.
”With your permission, ma’am, I’d like to use a spell to see if there are any more tainted items on them or in your Irrica inheritance. I may be able to detect some traces of baneful magics.”
Emma and Roger carefully remove Ridinion’s weapons and armour and carry the unconscious man to the sofa.
Drawn by the commotion, members of Delara’s staff enter and she commands them to bring food, water and a tincture to help calm Andana. She continues to soothe her daughter and seats her at the long table, bidding you join her.
When she has calmed sufficiently, Delara asks her to stay and answer some questions. ”I know this is not the ideal time given what you’ve just been through, but it is important. We need to make sure that you’re ok and want to understand what happened.” Andama’s face is pale and she doesn’t look particularly keen on the idea, but agrees. She isn’t able to provide much information, however, being unaware of any other times she may have been possessed or anything the rakshasa may have made her do, and if Delara is aware of anything she doesn’t disclose it.
”A raktavarna, I believe you called it?” she says to Hawk. ”And yes, I think that would be a good idea to check the rest.” Along with the items you have already perused, Andama removes a pair of silver studs from her ears and one from her nose, laying them on the table in front of her.
Working the spell, Hawk is able to detect a faint aura, which after concentrating on it he identifies as emanating from the locket.
”A raktavarna, I believe you called it?” she says to Hawk. ”And yes, I think that would be a good idea to check the rest.” Along with the items you have already perused, Andama removes a pair of silver studs from her ears and one from her nose, laying them on the table in front of her.
With his mystical vision, he examines the silver studs first then returns them to Andama. ”These bear no trace of magic and should be as safe as they are pretty.” It was the only consolation he can offer the young woman after her experience. He continues. ”Yes, ma’am, a raktavarna… one of the lesser rakshasha. Like all rakshasha, they are evil and manipulative. They often reside in the shape of jewelry, weaponry, or some innocuous object. Waiting undetected, they pass through various owners until they find the right one.” He specifically avoids detailing what might have made the girl ‘right’ for its purposes. No sense in giving her nightmares and it was a certainty that Delara did not need a map drawn.
He examines the other items and returns them to where they were sorted. The locket, he looks at longer than the other objects then cautiously pushes it aside with one finger and a tap – to alert Delara it stands out. ”After an incident like this, tea or food may help your daughter recover. Perhaps some food at the dining table for her would be in order?” Hawk leaves it to the lady of the house, how much of their discussion she’d like her daughter to hear.
Delara nods at Hawk. "Thank you. I appreciate your concern, and agree that sustenance is a good idea, but for now I think the best thing is to keep Andama with us." She squeezes her daughter's hand and says, "I'm sorry to do this but I think until we know everything we're dealing with, I'd be much happier if you remained here."
"I... I think I'd rather see - to try and understand," Andama says quietly.
Majara goes a step beyond simply taking the guard's armor and weapon; she also undoes the man's belt and uses it to bind his hands together. Just to be sure.
That done, she listens to the discussion of what might be best for the daughter.
"Best to keep busy," she says crisply. "Always works for me."
The sorcerer continues, pointing to the locket. ”There is a faint trace of magic on this. I can’t tell what sort of magic is upon it – either because the trace is so faint or it simply eludes me. I can rest and try again tomorrow to determine its type. The type of magic will provide clues as to what sort of dweomer is on it and what sort of danger it may pose. For instance, illusory magic would generally be less concerning than necromantic magic. But given the raktavarna and the locket’s ‘pedigree’ – the Irricas – I would have some concerns about it unless it was the most benign form of magic. Miss Blackford, do you sense anything innately evil about it… or any of these pieces for that matter?”
He doubted Emma would find anything, especially since the trace was faint at best. But the theatricality of her efforts would probably reassure the girl and appeal to Delara. While Emma scrutinizes the objects, Hawk adds, ”I noticed there is a clever clasp on the locket. Have either of you opened it?”
"No," Delara shakes her head, slightly bemused. "Obviously I wanted to check it out properly, for appraisement purposes as well as interest. Yet now I think about it, I never did and nor did the man valuing it. It's almost as if we either forgot to do so, or were subtly dissuaded from the action." She rubs her bare upper arm and looks to Andama, who confirms that she has never opened it either. "In light of recent events that may make sense, yes? But you are welcome to see if you can open it. We should all be on our guard just in case of hostile magic."
Before examining the locket, Emma gingerly approaches Andama. "It's going to be okay," she assures the girl in a low voice. "Whatever was affecting you seems to be over, and we'll do our best to make sure there are no repeat incidents in the future. Sometimes, circumstances get the best of us. Trust me. Once, when pursuing an enemy, I ended up falling off a boat. Right into the drink, armor on and everything."
As she speaks, Emma reaches out with her senses, and although she knows that neither of the women are injured, she releases a gentle burst of healing energy. Something to give a bit more weight to her words, if nothing else, and to hopefully put Andama more at ease.
Then she turns her gaze upon the locket, examining it carefully to detect any lingering traces of evil.
After Emma finishes the evaluation with her divine gifts, Hawk picks up the locket and moves to the far side of the room. He holds his Wayfinder and triggers the Ioun stone to bolster his willpower before trying to open the locket. He doesn’t bother to hide his trepidation.
Although she is not suffering any physical harm, Andama is bathed in the warm yellow light of Iomedae's benevolence and it does have the effect of bolstering the girl's morale. Delara delivers an appreciative thank you, which she also does as Emma checks the remaining items for any sign of darkness or taint, though nothing turns up.
Once everyone is ready, braced for the worst, Hawk attempts to open the locket. There is a tiny click and the clasp seals itself shut. The reflected image of a ghostly young woman appears on the locket’s surface. She looks pale, is dressed in a nightgown, and has a melancholy demeanour. “Please, do not disturb my locket. It is precious to me, and I would like to keep the memories within to myself. Who are you, strangers? Have you come to bring me peace at last?”
He doesn’t answer the locket immediately as he runs through the possible magics within it. It could be similar to the painting, or a simple illusion, or something else entirely. It was perplexing to say the least. Narrowing the possibilities seems the best course.
”Good day, madam. I’m Hawk Hargraves. I’m working for the last Irrica heir to bring family keepsakes home. That said, bringing peace to a spirit is something I would do. May I have your name?”
Well. Emma certainly hadn't expected that the locket - or at least, a potential spirit attached to the locket - would talk. Out of curiosity more than anything, she moves closer to Hawk.
"Hmm, the talking painting and now this.. Strange ways, strange ways." Roger ruminates his thoughts outloud for a moment, though in a low enough tone it would be easy to let pass in the background.
The woman inhales sharply. ”The last Irrica heir?” she asks, her voice cracking. With a strangled sob, her face seems to peel away from the surface of the locket and begins to coalesce into a larger form until the ghostly form of a young woman stands in the room. With a choked sob, she says, ”My name is Althea Irrica. I know that some time has passed since… since my death. But enough for my whole family line to have vanished?” If she had been a living woman, you are pretty sure that all the blood in her already wan face would have drained away as she speaks.
Hawk takes an involuntary step backwards. He tried to have no expectations after the locket spoke… but he wasn’t anticipating a full ghostly encounter. He offers the spirit a cautious bow, ”I apologize for breaking the bad tidings like that. Your…” he recalls the family tree, ”niece Pava, Asmodea’s daughter, is the lady to which I refer. Again, I’m sorry.” And please don’t suck the soul from my body.
”Little Pava?” Althea says quietly, then, largely to herself, ”I suppose this means she’s not a child any more.” She tries to compose herself, but doesn’t seem to be doing a great job of it. ”First Roderico, then me, now this. Woe that such misery should strike my family. What… what happened to them please?”
Hawk doesn’t enjoy delivering the news, not on an emotional level or as a dry recitation of facts. ”We don’t have all the documents here, and I’m not a historian, so I’m going largely from memory. I trust my colleagues to step in when I get something wrong. Are you aware of the Goblinblood Wars? They started roughly a year after your… passing. Early in the war, the Irrica ‘summer house’ was attacked and ransacked. I’m sorry to say that is when most of your kin perished. Somehow, your niece survived and wound up in an orphanage and then made her own way in the world. Only recently has she proven to Cheliax that she is the Irrica heir.”
He indicates Delara and Andama, ”These ladies are of the Adnen family which are distantly related to you through the Donato line, I believe. They received your locket along with some family keepsakes as an inheritance since there was no Irrica heir at that time. They have graciously allowed us to view the keepsakes.”
Hawk falls silent, hoping the bad news mixed with information about her remaining family would provide the spirit with at least a small measure of comfort.
As Hawk and the spirit converse, Emma does her best to subtly place herself between the spirit and Adnen family. She hopes the spirit won't turn hostile. She isn't really sure if her weapon would even be effective against such a spirit. Either way, it couldn't hurt to place herself in the way of any potential danger.
Dark tracks of tears line Althea’s cheeks as her eye make-up runs silently down her face. She listens in silence, shaking her head at the mention of the Goblinblood Wars. ”My poor family. Please, leave me be with my grief. And poor Roderico. I know not what evil befell him but without my engagement ring, the portrait inside this locket is all I have left of him.”
She stops, suddenly less lachrymose and eyes Hawk sharply. ”You mentioned other family keepsakes. Have you my ring? It’s made of gold, with three diamonds set in a triangle. Perhaps if you could bring it together with the locket then our spirits can be joined together as we were in life and I can be at rest.” She looks at you pleadingly, with huge sad eyes.
Delaying the inevitable, Hawk brings over the rings in the collection to Althea. ”These were the rings in the collection. I don’t think any of them are as fine as what you describe. Did you have the ring made?”
From behind the translucent figure of Althea, Delara shoots Hawk a look of concern as she recognises the description of the ring. Andama looks as if she is about to speak but her mother silently hushes her.
The ghost looks over the jewellery that Hawk has presented to her. ”No,” she agrees, ”they aren’t. It isn't here. And Roderico got it made specially in Egorian,” Althea replies, her face seemingly at war between the love she felt for her fiancée and the sadness that his death has wrought upon her.
Hawk has no good way to warn the Adnen ladies that discreetly exiting the room might be a good idea. He plays for time and focuses on determining if the raktavarna was her - highly questionable - engagement band or if, at some point in past decades, it had replaced the true ring. He has a feeling the facts might matter.
"Your ring, did it possess any magical properties? Did you ever feel like it might be talking to you?"
”No,” Althea says, peering carefully at Hawk as she tries to understand where he is going with the line of questioning. ”Roderico always said that the ring called to him when he chose it, though I never believed he meant that literally.” Her lips quirk up into a slight smile for the first time, before looking more pensive. ”I don’t recall that it spoke to me. Certainly not openly, though it was always very precious to me - for obvious reasons, but I was also very possessive over it and kept it to myself. My father did say that my behaviour changed after receiving it. Not for the better, I mean, and he approved of the match. Why do you ask?”
Hawk nods, a little grimly. ”That all… makes sense. I apologize; I need to deliver more distressing news. Please bear with me. I wish I could give you that ring, but I can’t. It wasn’t actually a ring, it was a small rakshasha, called a raktavarna. It’s an evil creature that imitates objects, such as rings. It is skilled at influencing people to do its bidding, even without their knowledge. You may have noticed Miss Andama is a little out of sorts. Shortly before we woke you, Miss Andama was acting much as you described. She was obsessive about the ring and didn’t want us to even look at it. When her mother forced the issue, the raktavarna emerged and compelled Miss Andama and the family’s bodyguard to attack us. We were forced to destroy the creature to free them from its dark influence. I suspect you and Roderico were both victims of the raktavarna as well. I don’t know if Roderico’s spirit is tied to the raktavarna’s body. I will bring it to you in the hopes that you can be reunited with him. But the creature no longer looks like the ring you remember.”
The sorcerer retrieves the raktavarna’s body and presents it to Althea’s ghost.
Still hovering near the Adnen family - just in case - Emma relaxes a bit as Hawk seems to have the conversation well in hand. It's fairly clear by this point that Althea was a ghost...but not one that had tripped up her ability to sense evil. To that end, at least, she didn't think they'd have to worry about Althea turning hostile and trying to attack them.
Probably.
She just hoped that Hawk knew what he was doing in this situation. For the time being, she'd stick near the family.
Just in case.
Althea’s ghost is silent for a long while, looking at the raktavarna’s body and trying to take everything in. ”This creature. It… killed me?” she says, sadly. ”I can remember nothing of it.” Another long pause. ”What you say makes sense, it’s just a lot to take in.”
”I understand,” Andama pipes up unexpectedly and the two girls, one living and one dead, face each other. Looked at together like this it’s clear that Althea was a mere handful of years older than Delara’s daughter is now. ”What you said… about the ring, about your behaviour. My mother has been saying much the same.” She laughs nervously and Delara puts a comforting arm around her.
Althea fixes her with a look and her expression turns a little downcast, perhaps wondering what might have been had things taken a slightly different path.
She turns back to Hawk and Emma. ”Thank you. For solving the mystery.” Her eyes dart down to the headless snake’s corpse. ”I think you should burn this,” she says a note of Irrica steel in her voice for perhaps the first time in the conversation.
There is a quiet click and the clasp of the locket undoes and the two halves spring open. Inside is a small oval portrait of a man. With his oiled dark hair and smooth cheekbones he looks not unlike a younger Sirio, though the same could be said of countless young men of Chelaxian heritage. The image is only held in place by the frame fitting within the shell of the locket and can be easily removed. A short word is engraved behind where the portrait was fitted.
”I have a favour to ask, Hawk Hargraves,” Althea says. ”There is - was, anyway - a small grove of trees down by the river on the family estate. We used to meet there a lot, Roderico and me. I would ask you to bury his portrait there, along with a pair of those silver rings from this box.” She gestures to the jewellery collection Hawk had presented to her. ”We can be together and rest at last, in death as we should have been in life.” She smiles sadly. ”You should probably ask my niece - that feels so strange to say - first, or perhaps leave it for her to deal with. But I would have your word that it will be done.”
”I want to be clear, I don’t know the circumstances of yours or your beloved’s deaths… so I can’t say with certainty that the creature was the cause of either of them. But it did seem to influence you both to take and safeguard it.”
His half-bow to her requests is a partial answer. ”We’ll certainly burn the raktavarna’s remains to ash. And I will see to it that Roderico’s portrait is buried at your meeting spot. You have my word.”
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Awk-ward.... Majara is happy to let Hawkren do the talking; he is much more diplomatic about it than she would be. She spends the time looking around the room, keeping an eye on the bound guard, and resisting the gnomish urge to whistle.
”I understand. Maybe I do just want it to be true. It’s just that when you’ve spent a long time not knowing what happened and then you get presented with an explanation that makes sense it’s hard not to just assume it’s true. And thank you,” Althea says. With that the spirit of the young Irrica woman grows more insubstantial until she utterly disappears.
”Indeed, thank you,” Delara echoes. ”That was well handled. Are you able dispose of the rakshasa?” she asks. ”Otherwise I think it would be well to conclude our business. I am truly grateful for the service you have performed here, and I shall remember and recommend you should any jobs requiring your skillset arise. However, I hope you understand I wish to attend to my daughter as soon as we can wrap things up.”
"I quite understand, ma'am. I wouldn't have taken this long but I didn't want to rush - and possibly anger - a ghost. We can get rid of the rakshasha. As I made a promise to Althea, I would like to take her locket and those rings with me at a minimum. May I ask what price you'd ask for those items? And then what price would you ascribe to all the rest - minus the silver studs Andama is fond of? And if the price is more than we can afford, would you consider our services in exchange?"