"Same for me, please."
"Me too. The chowder, not the drink. I'll have a red wine, if you've got one." Ella sits on the outside of the table, her focus on the men with her. "So what exactly is our plan now? Do we return to Harrowstone on the morrow?"
Lorant nods as they receive their stew.
"We SHOULD, but I don't know how well our wounds will have recovered by then. Today's foray nearly got us killed a few times, and we've little healing magic of our own. And I'm not sure how much is left in that wand of ours."
Ella sighs. "That makes sense. I suppose we just wait to see whether anything happens tonight, and take stock in the morning, then..."
Lorant nods.
"Yes. Besides, even the mightiest knight can't charge headlong against evil tirelessly. We have honored Iomedae and Pharasma today with our valor against the darkness within the prison. Now we should honor Andoletta in providing succor and hope to the people we are protecting."
Judah downed his drink in one go and exhaled slowly as the warmth of the alcohol spread through him.
He hadn't felt like he was honoring anyone today. Mostly he felt like he'd been scared out of his wits so many times that he just stopped giving a damn. He'd been panicked, angry and stupid.
One by one he pulled out the weapons and objects left behind by the psychotic inmates and began to look them over carefully.
A book. A hatchet. A mallet. A flute. Lorant had the tangle of holy symbols, but they weren't relevant anymore.
Without thinking about it much he thunked his large golden pyramid down on the table next to it all.
Lorant begins tucking in to his stew.
Ella, seeing Judah mulling the items, also leans forward, her eyes glowing slightly blue as she examines them.
Cassiel isn't saying much as he starts eating. To put it simply, he hadn't realized just how hungry he was until he sat down and started dining.
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Under Ella's magical gaze, the artifacts glow blue, though she senses that only the handaxe is enchanted. From it, she can sense faint magic. The other objects do not radiate magic, per se, but she can tell that they are each under a powerful curse.
The smith's hammer is a masterwork item but stained with dark splotches that will not come clean.
The book is a leatherbound tome caked with mold. It appears to be a spellbook of some sort. Time and mold have rendered much of it illegible.
The handaxe is likewise bloodstained and no amount of work will cleanse it.
The bagpipes are also a masterwork object, with the image of what appears to be a stirge carved into each of the drones (those long pipes that stick out the top).
Judah looked up at Ealanora's glowing eyes and shook his head. "Wish I could do that."
On the table the pyramid clicked as something inside of it moved. Judah's eyes began to glow faintly. The coloration was different. A deep purple instead of Ealanora's paler blue, but the effect was clearly the same.
As the items each began to glow faintly under his sight he blinked and rubbed his eyes. "What the hell?"
He gave the pyramid an accusatory glance, then went back to staring at the other relics.
"Alright... what's... all this mean?"
Judah looked up at Ealanora's glowing eyes and shook his head. "Wish I could do that."
On the table the pyramid clicked as something inside of it moved. Judah's eyes began to glow faintly. The coloration was different. A deep purple instead of Ealanora's paler blue, but the effect was clearly the same.
As the items each began to glow faintly under his sight he blinked and rubbed his eyes. "What the hell?"
He gave the pyramid an accusatory glance, then went back to staring at the other relics.
"Alright... what's... all this mean?"
"It means that these objects have magic within them, and you've...somehow developed the ability to sense that. It's among one of the first spells any spellcaster learns, whether a divine orison or an arcane cantrip. Maybe that pyramid unlocked some talent for sorcery you didn't know you had?" Lorant says, stroking his chin.
"As for why these things are magical, my best guess is that it's some kind of bond with their former owners. Perhaps exploiting that link can be used to exorcise them. If that's possible, we may be able to save the rest of the siphons. Like, as an emergency last resort. Considering it took 2 siphons to deal with Father Charlatan, if we tried using them on every spirit we encountered we'd quickly run out."
"I could probably call upon Iomedae's favour to take care of the rest. Just saying."
"I... am not a spellcaster. I'be never studied magical anything and the closest I get to religion is creative cursing."
Judah eyed the pyramid. Then he looked at the rest of the things on the table.
"I really do not like the implications of this."
"Neither do I," Ella declares, "but since you have these powers, we should turn them to their best use." She leans over toward Judah to examine the pyramid around his neck. "Has this...thing...ever done something like this before?"
"Oh yeah. It does weird stuff all the time. Pretty much all my problems started when I opened it. I think it is some kind of conduit to... somewhere. It seems to respond to my emotions? I think? That's where all the weird creatures that keep popping up are coming from. Either from it, or they are drawn to it."
"Sometimes a voice talks to me in my head that I think is coming from inside it. I honestly haven't figured out much of it, and I can't get rid of it. So I'm here."
Lorant listens and nods.
"I can see why you'd be hesitant to discuss this, even among friends. You'll want to be careful about displaying your newfound powers publicly. There's plenty of backwater towns here in Ustalav where witch burnings are the only form of public entertainment. We're lucky Ravengro has been relatively warm and loving compared with some of the villages I've seen over the years."
He takes a few mouthfuls of the chowder.
"This is good stuff. Warms you to the core...though, that may just be because I'm such a naturally cold man...physically, not emotionally."
He leans in a little and lowers his voice.
"After we're done dealing with Harrowstone, Judah, would you like me to do some research on that thing? I might be able to help you identify what its powers are, or maybe what plane it seems to be connected to...what the creatures are, that sort of thing."
"Yeah, I'm aware. This place hasn't' been so bad. Probably because they have enough worse problems that the outsider and his weird pyramid aren't high on their list of priorities." Judah said.
He suddenly realized how freely he was talking and looked accusatory at the empty glass of Hellfire whiskey.
"I'd be happy to help you out as well, Judah," Ella says earnestly. "I've always been good with books."
Glancing around, she adds, "But, it seems like we've been here long enough for the liquor to loosen tongues...we had probably best depart. Get some rest, prepare for our next foray, and so on."
"Sounds like a plan...even with my insomnia I feel like I could fall asleep in my chowder," Lorant replies.
"Let's go."
Lorant finishes his meal and as he stands up he leaves a few coins on the table as a tip for Zokar and his crew.
"You know, Cas? We make a pretty good team. I'm good at spinning speeches that speak to the good in the hearts of people, and your taciturn nature makes your convictions seem unassailable, so when you act, people KNOW it's for the right reasons. In a land where goodness and stuff feels like a candle that could be snuffed out by the slightest sour-sweet wind, you're a torch that can't be extinguished so easily."
Cassiel shrugs. "I'm a man of action, Lorant. I'm not really one for words."
"And the words I do speak tend to involve snarky quips. They tend to get me into trouble more often than not."
For instance, you use sermons & pretty speeches to reach the hearts of people. I use a blade.
"That's just because they don't appreciate your...cutting wit?" Lorant replies, grinning at Cassiel with those creepy half-vampire teeth.
"...generally not." Cassiel gives Lorant a deadpan look.
"It tends to stab them in particularly sensitive bits."
Lorant tries to avoid giggling.
"Good one!"
Judah gives Eleanora a long-suffering look as Lorant and Cassiel butcher the art of comedy. He mimes picking up the Lopper's axe and cutting off his own head with it.
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Ella, unaware of what's going on with Judah, just nods to him and rolls her eyes as well.
Judah tensed, a shiver running through him, then he scowled at the axe in almost exactly the way he'd scowled at the pyramid earlier.
"You are really going to have to get more creative. It was freaky the first time, but now you'really just getting repetitive," he said to the haunted stuff on the table.
Lorant, given his back is turned after getting up, doesn't notice Judah reacting to the spirits messing with his mind.
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The next morning, there comes a knocking very early at the door of the Lorrimor household. Kendra answers, but almost immediately turns and calls for one of you. At the door stands Sheriff Caeller. "Forgive the early morning intrusion, but I felt it necessary to tell you that our vandal did not strike at the monument again last night. It was guarded against intrusion all night, as you suggested. Instead, he painted a letter "e" on the gazebo in the center of town. It was done in blood, though we've not found any bodies and no one has been reported missing. Whoever this is, they're aware enough to know that we're watching."
Lorant sleeps quietly most of the night, and rises before dawn so he's awake when Sheriff Caeller arrives. He listens to the Sheriff's story and nods, stroking his stubbly chin.
"I figured we'd see more activity like this soon. Since the second letter was in a different location, it's clear that it doesn't matter where the letters are written. It's a good thing Vesorianna's got a long name...that'll at least buy us some time. As for the source of the blood, if no one's gone missing, our graffiti artist may not be using human blood for their work. I'd advise checking to see if any pets or livestock are missing or wounded. Thank you for the information, Sheriff Caeller. If you don't mind, I'd like to take a closer look at the site, see if I can track this person down."
When the others have woken up, Lorant calls them down to the parlor for breakfast and, if Sheriff Caeller wants to stick around to explain the situation, lets him do so, otherwise, if Sheriff Caeller wants to leave, fills them in himself.
"...So I would like to take a look at the gazebo and see if I can get a lead on how to find the Splatter Man's puppet. Try to sniff out their trail."
Judah suddenly made the connection between the letters written in blood around town and the visions he'd been having of his own name written in blood. His face went pale. 'Judah' was a much shorter name than 'Vesorianna.'
He pulled out the book and looked at it for a long moment, his mind slowly turning.
"So the Splatter Man would write the names of his victims in blood in this book, and then they'd die, right?"
"No, he spelled the names of his victims in places they'd notice, because he wanted to watch how they'd react to it. And when he completed the name, he'd murder the person he was stalking in a way that looked like an accident. The act of writing the name didn't appear to have any magical power outside of his own twisted mind, at least from how it was described. It's only got mystical power now because he's a ghost and his intended victim is a ghost as well, so it's more...symbolic, than his M.O. was when he was alive."
Lorant holds out his hand.
"May I see that, please?"
"Sure." Judah handed the book over.
Lorant thumbs through the ruined book to try and get a better idea of its contents.
"I wonder if it is symbolic," Ella comments, sounding worried. "If he is a ghost or spirit as well, perhaps he can have some kind of effect on her...and didn't she say that her presence was restraining the five murderers? She'd be a natural target, if there were anything he could do to her!"
Cassiel doesn't look too perturbed.
"Then we'll just have to cleanse Harrowstone before this goes any further."
Judah's eyes narrowed. "What was the splatterman's real name?"
"Huh. My name's in here. Bastard's playing with us," Lorant comments nonchalantly.
"His name was Professor Hean Feramin. And judging by what little is left here, he was also a practitioner of the arcane. This was a spellbook. I think some of the spells are even still legible in here."
Lorant takes a closer look to see if he can decipher what legible text there is. He wouldn't be much of an inquisitor if he couldn't parse the arcane texts of the dark arts.
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"Yeah, he's been doing that kind of stuff to me since I picked up his stupid book," Judah said shaking his head.
He tapped the table in thought. "Ghost stories always mention how spirits are bound by... stuff... from their lives. Banishing them is always about finishing something they left unfinished, or confronting them with something that forces them to face their own deeds."
"There's always some kind of weird pattern or reflection of who they used to be."
"So what's the pattern here? What are the Splatterman's rules?"
Lorant strokes his chin.
"Well...he was a Professor of Anthroponomastics...that's the study of names, which is why he developed the modus operandi he had. If he was a wizard, he'd be keenly aware that words and names have power, and that's what we're seeing here: by spelling out Vesorianna's name the way he did for his victims, he's trying to gain power over her. I'd say it seems that the most effective way to fight him would be the destruction of words. Not, like, burning this or something in Kendra's fireplace. He didn't have it with him when the prison burned. But if we showed it to him, and then we destroyed the pages, that'd probably send a strong message spiritually, a way of communicating to the Splatter Man that he has no power over us..."
"Too simple." Marcus shook his head. "Burning a ghost's personal things always seems like it will work, but the twist at the end of the story is that it doesn't. It's always a red herring."
"It's going to be something about how he thinks, not something about what he used to have."
Judah took back the book and started looking for any pattern to how the Splatterman did things.