Infamous writer Oscar Wilde once wrote: “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
Anyone who has ever visited a message board, or read any comments on Youtube, knows well the truth of this. Remove social consequences, and the niceties vanish. For some of us, we take on an online persona whose social standing is perhaps as dear to us as our own in real life. Others instead bask in the freedom of anonymity to unleash the darkest parts of their very souls, the masked bandits of the connected world, reveling in the release of the darkness within them.
I have never understood these people, though I have, from time to time, donned a mask to commit mischief. I was wearing one the day my friends and I toilet papered a teacher’s house. During the infamous incident with the Chelish ambassador’s eighteen year old daughter, then too was I wearing a mask. And, of course, there was that Halloween incident with the shopping carts, the eggs and enough bottle rockets to start a small war in a third world nation. I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations has come up on that last one.
I guess, in a way, I do understand the power a mask has on its wearer. By hiding your face, you armor yourself. No one can see your fear, your remorse or even the wicked glee upon your face as you are at your most unleashed. Perhaps then, I understand what the Skinsaw Man was going through when we encountered him. How far away from that state have I been myself?
Perhaps more than anything we encountered this night, that thought unsettles me greatly. People have “promised that dreams can come true – but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams, too.” In this man, our foe, I have beheld myself as a nightmare. If only it were as simple as waking up.
But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself.
Thanks to a tendency to learn as much as possible about a new location, we already knew that the manor we were planning to investigate was most likely haunted. As such, we didn’t want to go in unprepared. So we decided to spend a day in town on a bit of a lock and load montage in preparation for our trip into the haunted domicile.
Aurora and Geo stocked up on holy water while I enchanted Aurora’s armor, in hopes that a little magic would protect her as much as possible from ghosts. After they had completed their purchase, the other four spent time finding out anything they could about The Misgivings and the Foxglove family. They only turned up one more piece of information. Turns out that the family had some connections to a secret-ish society known as the Brothers of Seven. They were merchants and also rumored to be thieves as well. At the time, we weren’t sure if they had anything to do with what was going on, but it was interesting to note.
Speaking of things that were interesting to note, my teapot had gone missing. When I mentioned it to our innkeeper, she offered to replace it. With all Ameiko had already done, I really could not accept her offer, so I declined. I did consider asking her to upgrade the locks on the room, but decided not to worry about it at the moment.
I then went to speak with the local priest. I figured he might have a few magic scrolls that could help us against ghosts or other undead. He didn’t, but he was helpful about suggesting what divine magic effects to look for when I visited the magic shop.
At the shop, I found several scrolls of the spells that Father Zantus has suggested. I picked up a few for protection from both the corporeal and incorporeal, then made a larger purchase, grabbing one that could consecrate an area against the undead. I wasn’t sure if it would offer much help in the haunted house, but I figured that since “swarmed by ghouls” had become a regular occupational hazard for us, it would be nice to have. I gave all of these scrolls to Paulie, since I figured he’d be able to cast them with little issue.
In the afternoon, Belor Hemlock informed us that the head of the Scarnetti family and a number of his guards had been attacked. I sent a letter to the man, warning him of the link between greed and the attacks. In it, I suggested that if any of his men were known to be exceptionally greedy, he should ensure that they are not left without someone else to help protect them.
Of course, I knew that the attack had been on him and not one of his men, but you don’t just come right out and call a nobleman in this kind of society a greedy bastard. There are niceties involved. At the least, you have to imply, rather than outright saying it.
We had spent the day in our preparations, but had found out mid-morning that the farmers and our horses hadn’t returned. Sheriff Hemlock sent a group of men to go check out the road between town and the farm, but had found nothing. Which is why we were all incredibly surprised when Shadowmist returned to town that evening. He was once again wounded, and wouldn’t let anyone near him until Aurora managed to calm him down enough for Geo to get a chance to tend to his wounds.
Geo told us that the poor thing had been infected with Ghoul Fever. It was sorta weird going to Father Zantus and spending a donation of far more than most people made in a month to cure our horse when people had been dying all around Sandpoint from attacks. But still, we did it. We suggested that Father Zantus ask Desna to bless him with as much disease removing magic as possible, since we had a feeling that this would get worse before it got better.
After the horse had been taken care of, the rest of the evening was uneventful, until maybe an hour after we went to bed. I was awoken by a mental ping from my magical alarm in time to see the doorknob turning. I’m not sure if I had forgotten to lock the door, or if it had simply been picked, but I didn’t wait to find out. I quickly used a cantrip to wake up Aurora, who was asleep in the other bed, by hitting her with a light magical force.
As the door opened, I saw a ghoul creeping into the room and lumbering over to my bed. For the record, that’s an image I’m never, EVER, going to be able to get rid of. Once it stood over me, I kicked quickly, trying to send my blanket onto his head, but failed miserably. I then rolled and fell between the two beds, shouting all the while.
Aurora grabbed her weapon, which lay next to the bed, and leapt to her feet, putting herself between me and the ghoul. Unfortunately, without armor, the ghoul managed to both bite and claw her, likely infecting her with Ghoul Fever and also paralyzing her. So it was up to me to save us, since I couldn’t hear anything from the nearby rooms where Lenn, Geo and Paulie slept.
In the close quarters, I had two options in my spells that I had prepared that day. The first was magical bolts of force. It wasn’t a bad option, but there was no guarantee it would kill the enemy. If it failed, then that was it. We were probably doomed, barring intervention from one of the other rooms.
So I went with option two. I quickly stood and unleashed a blinding blast of sanctified light in the face of the ghoul. Yeah, I know, I’m not exactly the holiest person. But I can fake it pretty well, and that’s all the magic needed.
For most people, like Aurora, who also got a full view of the pulse of light, the light functions similarly to the visual component of a flashbang. If you’re looking right at it, you’re blinded for a few seconds. But if you have evil in your heart, the sanctified light burns away the unclean.
Undead, being reanimated by unholy energies of unlife, are always evil. The ghoul reacted the same way a normal person might if you ignited a fireball in their face. First there was the screaming, then the falling, and finally, the little bit of twitching. This was followed by a light salad and a cheese course.
Okay, so actually it was followed by Geo rushing in, dagger drawn and tentacles at the ready. And no, that’s not something you want to see when you’re in your bedclothes. Yet another image I won’t ever be able to get rid of.
We heard the sounds of combat outside, so I told Geo to wake the others and bring their armors into our room so I could gird everyone in a few seconds with magic. I then handed Aurora my spare set of magical clothing changing sleeves and we were both in more appropriate clothes in an instant, only having to put on shoes the old fashioned way. I mean, we were rushed enough that I could justify not leaving while Aurora changed, but we really didn’t have time for that.
Once the others reached the room, I used my magic to slip their armors on them all at once, and we headed downstairs and outside. The scene was pretty chaotic. We managed to slay a few ghouls as we worked our way to the loudest part of the fighting at the town square.
Remember how I said that “swarmed by ghouls” had become a regular thing for us? Tonight was no different. Too bad Paulie didn’t think to bring the scrolls with him.
The fighting was quick and fierce. Where a single ghoul had given us trouble while we were unprepared, more than a dozen over several waves fell before us like wheat before the scythe, even if they were coming from all directions.
After the fighting had ended, Belor Hemlock approached us once again. It seems that “Your Lordship” had left me another note at the Scarnetti attack, but that the initial investigation had missed it. It read, “I will destroy you. I will take the mask you wear and make it my own.”
You bet your ass I pushed an armoire in front of our door before trying to go back to sleep that night.
The next day, we headed out towards the manor fairly early. I mean, I still got my eight hours of sleep, but we left earlier than I probably would have preferred. We arrived late in the morning after a fairly uneventful journey. As we approached, the sky seemed to darken and I felt apprehensive, like Nagisa going to spend a weekend with Shizuma at the similarly creepy cottage to learn her Etoile’s secrets. And if you got that reference, you have no grounds on which to judge me.
Still, I worried that this episode would end with me or one of my companions crying and cut to a saccharine as hell end theme in one of the greatest mood whiplashes in history.
“Unmei” still playing in my mind, we decided to first investigate the broken down and charred remains of an outbuilding, likely the servants’ quarters which had burned down many years ago. The sound of the surf and a few crows were all we heard as we approached.
Inside, a quartet of ghouls was playing the song of gluttony, noisily gorging on the remains of some animal. It wasn’t until we got a bit closer that I recognized the clothing worn by two of the ghouls…and the animal they were feeding on. Without thinking, I shouted, “Rarity, no!” and plunged my companions and myself into combat with the ghouls.
Anger dominated Aurora’s visage as she and the others grimly cut down the foes. We then stood over the poor creature who had given her life to try to help us save people. It was a senseless waste. Had we known that there had been no other survivors in the area, she wouldn’t have died. We had to assume that the farmers had been killed as well, though none of these ghouls were them.
Horran and Lettie Guffman were two more people whose names would be etched into the book that recorded my failures. And Rarity was another comrade, albeit only an animal, who had fallen in battle because of my failure. Someone would pay for these deaths. I would see to that.
The main house had a large set of double doors that opened when we used the key we had found on the dead Foxglove retainer. Inside, we were greeted by many, many eyes upon us. I almost opened fire with a spell before realizing that all the eyes were attached to stuffed animal heads. One of those heads was still attached to its body.
Stuffed or no, I cried out upon spotting the manticore. Then Geo and I spotted wafts of smoke coming up off of its body. “Holy water?” I asked him. He nodded and drew a vial, having come to the same conclusion as I had. Either this was some kind of actual fire, which meant water would be a solution, or it was ghostly activity, which holy would deal with. Hence, holy water.
Geo threw the flask. It struck the manticore and shattered. The smoke continued, but the application had clearly had an effect, so Geo threw another one. With the second flask expended, the smoke stopped and we walked inside.
Surrounded by all these taxidermied critters, I couldn’t help but think that if this family were moved to my world, the Foxgloves would have their own reality program on TLC. I just wasn’t sure if it would be “Redneck Nobles” or “Extreme Housekeeping Disasters”. You see, it smelled god awful in there. I felt like I would need to bathe in bleach for a week to start to feel clean again.
Paulie must have noticed my hesitation. He laid a hand(paw?) on my shoulder and said, “Come friend, let us bravely venture inside. Justice awaits!” His voice had shifted again. Sometimes the shifts in his voice were subtle, but this was anything but. I had heard similar things said with similar voices, usually by paladins with more faith than brains. This was going to be a long delve into a creepy as hell house. Oh well, at least he didn’t seem intent on burning everything down. Not that I didn’t think this house could stand to go through a good fire. I just prefer that we be outside when it happens. I also wanted to wait until we were done searching the place for clues. We were going to find and end “Your Lordship”.
Inside, we found several things of note. The first was a magical, mummified monkey’s head. After a quick inspection, I determined that it would let out a shriek if the rope attached to it was pulled. Lenn hung it around his neck as a companion to the other head there.
The second thing we discovered, after moving a rug, was a disgusting, yet also interesting patch of mold. It spiraled inward, almost as if someone had painted it on. We carefully passed it and continued deeper into the house.
The third thing we found was a set of stained-glass windows. The windows, four in all, each depicted a grisly scene. Each had a seven-sided box marked with necromantic symbols and a monster that looked like it was being drawn into the box. The four monsters we managed to identify as a treant, a roc, a sphinx and a kraken. We weren’t sure what the significance of the types of monsters was, but with the necromantic symbols and the terror on their faces, we suspected that they were sacrifices of some sort. And, if necromancy was involved here, then it was safe to say that a ghostly infestation was not only possible, but maybe even likely.
As we entered the next room, we noticed movement near the fireplace. Geo tossed in a flour bomb to reveal our invisible foe, but it didn’t stick to anything. Whatever it was, it was likely insubstantial. Geo then, against all better judgment, approach the spot where something appeared to be pacing. He got this strange look in his eyes, grabbed Lenn by the arm and led him outside to the building where we had just fought the ghouls.
The servants’ quarters, or at least, what was left of them, were now covered in hundreds, maybe even thousands, of terrifying looking birds. They looked to be ravens or crows.
The butter it came out all grizzle-y gray. Ristle-tee, rostle-tee now, now, now. The cheese, it took legs and ran away. Ristle-tee, rostle-tee, hey Donnie-dostle-tee, knickety-knackety, rustical quality, willow-tee, wallow-tee, now, now now.
Worse than just crows, however, they also looked diseased, possibly even undead. I had an idea, but I wasn’t entirely certain it would work, so I handed Aurora my flask of acid, being careful not to spook the birds. Then, I quickly recited the words of the spell and unleashed a blast of light into the middle of the flock.
Thank God I had been correct and they had been undead, otherwise that probably would have just pissed them off. As it worked, the vast majority of the crows died instantly in the purifying light. The half dozen or so that survived flew away, and we hurried back indoors.
Once inside, we asked Geo what had happened. “I’m not entirely certain. First, I hear the name ‘Lorey’ whispered, then I suddenly start feeling like there’s something outside I absolutely have to show Lenn right this instant. Then, there was that bright flash of light and I’m back to normal, though my head is a bit fuzzy.”
Our standard operating procedure in dungeons had thus far been “Geo scouts ahead”. Now, knowing what kind of things the spirits within were capable of, we agreed that separating like that would likely be suicide for our scout. No, we were going to stick together.
Continuing on, we found a rat in a metal tub. What the hell was this, “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark”? Someone probably brought the thing from Mexico, thinking it was a chihuahua. The damn thing was diseased, so Geo shot it and we moved on.
In the next room, we found a grand piano. In a moment of curiosity, I decided to see if the thing still played. Maybe Chopsticks would improve everyone’s mood a bit.
No sooner had I hit a key than it began playing on its own. Geo suddenly burst into dance. I think the dance he was doing was the Foxtrot, but it’s hard to tell when there’s only one person dancing. When he stopped, he told us that he had been dancing with a woman who appeared to be getting strangled. It seemed to disturb him greatly, so we moved on.
In the next room, we spotted a ghostly figure in the window. As a nice change of pace, nothing horrible happened to Geo and we continued our investigation. Naturally, the next room held a surprise for Geo as well.
In the middle of the room, which appeared to be a library, lay a fine looking scarf. Geo, not having learned from my experience with the piano, walked over and picked it up. No sooner had he done so than it began to strangle him. We fought to pull it from him and in a few moments he was gasping for breath and the scarf was upon the floor.
“I think I was the woman,” was all Geo said at first. After a few moments, he continued. “She was Aldern’s wife, Iesha. He strangled her to death.”
Captain Crunch and the Cavity Creeps. Not only had he hit on Aurora, he had been married when he had done so, or at least a self-made widower. That bastard had to die. Right after we took care of the Skinsaw Man, we were hunting down Aldern next.
Geo looked a little worse for wear, so Paulie zapped him with the wand I had gotten crafted back in Magnimar. Wait, actually, let me rephrase that to reflect the look upon Paulie’s face as he did so. Paulie “bravely” zapped him with the wand I had gotten crafted back in Magnimar. Bravely.
I’m not so sure I like the intensity on the catfolk’s face today. Maybe we’d be better off with him back to his previously apathetic self.
We investigated a bloodstain on a bookend and decided to investigate another floor. I had once heard that when in a haunted house, you should go to the attic before the basement, so we took the stairs up. As we walked up them, we heard echoes, as though someone was following us. As expected, checking behind us revealed nothing. Apparently the house just had a good grasp on the Rule of Creepy.
The first room we checked had a fireplace in it. My first thought, and I have no idea why this was my first thought, was that it was large enough for a child to get lost in. I still haven’t figured out why that thought came to me and I doubt I’ll ever know. What I do know is that I was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of terror. I thought I heard people arguing.
In my mind, these people arguing were my parents. And somehow, I knew that they would eventually try to kill each other and that the survivor would then be coming to kill me. Then I saw a man covered in tumors and wielding a long knife fighting against a woman wielding a torch. I was filled with an overwhelming urge to hide, but I spotted the banner Aurora carried on her back and felt a bit reassured, so instead I sat down where I was, grabbed my knees and began rocking back and forth until the feeling passed.
I snapped out of it to find Aurora’s hand upon my shoulder. I reassured the others that I would be fine and told them what I had seen, then we continued our exploration.
The next room contained more of the stained glass windows. More necromantic symbols could be seen in each, and they all contained imagery that I took several moments to put together. “Son of a Lich!” I swore.
“What is it?” one of the others asked.
“Scorpion venom. Vampire’s breath. Tongue of deathwing moth. Belladonna. Heart of a maiden slain by poison. This is a formula for turning a wizard into a lich. We have to find out more. If whomever did this is still here, we’re going to have to deal with him, and we aren’t nearly prepared enough to handle a lich.”
We continued searching. The next room contained a number of portraits covered in cobwebs. This time, it was Lenn’s turn to ignore the danger of curiosity. He pulled away the cobwebs, revealing portraits of two separate Foxglove families. On one side, the portraits of Vorel, Kasanda and their daughter Lorey. On the other, Traver, his wife Cyralie and their children Aldern, Sendali and Zeeva. On a side note, though she was much younger in the portrait, I could have sworn I had seen Sendali Foxglove before. The best my memory could come up with was that the similar face belonged to someone who owned a restaurant in Absalom. I know I’d seen that person at a few parties, but I never went and talked to her. I wonder if it’s the same person.
Suddenly, the room grew cold and the lights we carried dimmed. The faces in the portraits began to morph and change. As best we could tell from our knowledge of the tragedies that befell the families, they showed us how each person died. Only Sendali and Zeeva’s portraits remained the same.
Aldern’s portrait depicted him as a ghoul.
“Well, crap. Now we’re never going to get paid,” I said. On the other hand, I had a good excuse to kill him, so I guess it was a wash. On the other other hand, I suddenly felt pretty ill. Looking at myself, I could see sickly red splotches all over my body.
The room had returned to its normal temperature, the portraits changed back and the lights became bright again. “What’s wrong?” Aurora asked. I looked around and saw that I wasn’t the only one staring at my skin. Paulie and Geo were as well, though I could see no sickness upon them. That suggested two possibilities to me.
“Either this is a hallucination, or we’ve been infected with a magical plague, one which allows us to see the symptoms before others see them on us. We’ll need to be careful when we return to town for help. There is no telling how contagious we are.”
Past that room was another which looked like a study. As we entered, Paulie rushed to the desk and pulled what looked like a wooden stake from the drawer. He then turned it, preparing to plunge it into his chest.
We wrestled it from his hands and Lenn held him down until he seemed to return to normal. “What the hell do you think you were doing?” I asked.
“I was trying to bravely stab myself.”
“Why?”
“For justice.”
“What.”
He just shrugged and I let it drop, figuring it was the work of the ghosts within the house. I was really starting to want to get out of here, but not without finding out what had happened to the lich. And there was still the Skinsaw Man to deal with, and this house likely held clues as to his whereabouts.
Next was another washroom. This tub didn’t contain a rat, but the floor of the room looked decidedly unsafe. I splashed a bit of conjured acid on the floor, tipping the balance and, sending the iron tub and the room’s entire floor crashing down into the washroom below.
We continued on, making a note to be wary of dangerous looking floors. As we walked into the next room, I noticed Aurora’s head move, like she heard something. She then began reaching for her dagger, struggling to keep herself from drawing it. She looked at me and said, “Get away from me, quickly!”
I did as she said and in a few moments she managed to fight the compulsion. Her shoulders relaxed and a single bead of sweat dripped down her brow, following the line of the scar across her eye. She blinked as the sweat struck her pupil. “What happened?” I asked.
“I heard a woman’s voice. ‘What have you gotten up to, down in the damp below?’ it asked. Suddenly, I was filled with an overwhelming desire to kill my wife.”
Huh. “So, I’m your wife, eh?” I asked, my tone suggestive.
“Don’t read anything into it. It’s probably just because you’re the most feminine of the possible targets I had.”
I looked first at Lenn, muscle-bound and massive, then to Geo, with his writhing tentacles and finally to Paulie, whose feline face currently seemed vacant of anything resembling thought. Then I thought about how I owned more dresses than anyone in the party, just in case I had to disguise myself as a woman or got cursed again. “Yeah, I guess that checks out. Let’s keep going.”
Before leaving the room, we examined a portrait on the wall. It belonged to Iesha Foxglove, Aldern’s wife. Geo confirmed that she was the woman in his visions.
Most of the rooms upstairs contained building materials. It looked like Aldern, or some other recent occupant, was working on fixing the roof. The boards were normal lumber – pine, I think – so there was no value in stealing them like the time we took apart those darkwood pews in that abandoned cathedral. Not that we really had time to deal with the boards anyway.
A woman’s unearthly shriek came from down the hall. Holy water in hand, we rushed to where we heard the sound. The door was locked, so Geo picked it. Inside we found a poor, wretched shell of a woman staring at a mirror, seemingly unable to look away. I recalled reading something about a type of undead that had such a self-loathing that mirrors were almost anathema to them, so I suspected that the woman was a revenant, a creature come back from the grave to slay the one who murdered it. She also looked to be wearing the same clothes Iesha was wearing in Geo’s vision, so we suspected Aldern would be her target. We figured an alliance would be a good move. But we needed to make sure the rest of this floor was clear, so we left her to her mirror for a bit and continued searching.
The next room contained more of those stained glass windows. The first depicted a dark haired woman, who I suspected to be Arazni, the Harlot Queen of Geb. A little interesting backstory on her. No idea if it’s true, but it seems plausible in this world gone mad. Geb is a nation ruled by the dead. Not a good place for a vacation. Arazni was once the Herald of the human-turned-god Aroden. After an attack on Geb, the ruler retaliated and sent his newly raised minions – the knights who had attacked him – to steal her corpse, which he animated as a lich. She now rules alongside him as his Harlot Queen. I have no idea why they added Harlot to the name, rather than calling her the “Dark Queen” or “Eternal Queen” or “Lich Queen”, though that last one might have been due to copyright law or something. Not that they have Warcraft here, but you know, maybe.
The other window, which was half broken, depicted another famous lich. Socorro, known as the Butcher of Carrion Hill for reasons that aren’t entirely clear to me, served Tar-Baphon, known as the Whispering Tyrant. To the best of my knowledge, the Whispering Tyrant is imprisoned in his old capital and his Butcher hasn’t been seen since the tyrant’s defeat. The entire nation of Lastwall watches over Tar-Baphon’s prison.
I suspect that these people were the inspiration, perhaps even personal heroes, for the person who sought to become a lich. If those are his role models, I don’t want to meet the guy, unless I’m at the head of a column of paladins sent to destroy him. And only if they each had a keg of holy water hooked to a garden sprayer.
As I studied the windows, I became aware of Lenn flailing about behind me. “This is stupid!” he shouted. Then, he was back to normal. I suspect it was another ghostly vision, but I’m not sure what he saw.
Once we had learned what we could from the windows, we headed to the next room and began looking for other clues. Also, for things of value not nailed down. Actually, we had tools to pry out nails, so even things that were nailed down, so long as they were small enough to carry.
Geo found a removable brick that hid a cache of platinum coins, some vials that he thinks once contained the drug pesh, and a key. Likely the key to Iesha’s room, if I had to guess. I picked up the ornate telescope and stuffed it in my bag. Sure, it was broken far beyond normal means of repair, but I wasn’t planning on using normal means to repair it. A quick bippity boppity boo and it would be worth at least a thousand gold to the right collector. We also grabbed a painting depicting a bullfight done by famous artist Ando Something-or-other. Peng-Peng.
While all this was happening, Paulie looked lost in thought. The difference from the vacant expression he had been wearing much of this day was noticeable enough that Aurora kept an eye on him in case he tried to stab himself again.
Finally, we prepared to free Iesha. We made sure to clear a path for her and then threw a blanket over the mirror. We figured that she wasn’t a danger to us as long as Aldern lived, and I use “lived” in the loosest of interpretations.
As suspected, she marched off immediately, hunting for Aldern. We followed close behind as she headed downstairs.
In the basement, there was what looked like a kitchen. We heard sound in the walls, and suspected that there were probably vermin in the walls. Rats, since we had seen the one in the tub. We quietly followed Iesha down the hall.
Once she reached end of the hall, she began pounding on the locked door. This, of course, brought the rats. Because of course it did. We could hear them scurrying in the walls, so we rushed into the kitchen. I prepared a spell. When the rats came pouring from the wall, they found themselves surrounded by hundreds of monkeys.
That lasted about two seconds before Lenn starting swinging at the intermingled swarms, killing monkey and rat alike. Within moments, the swarms were decimated by the combined assault of my companions and the acid I was flinging. It’s a good thing that those monkeys were only temporary magical recreations of the real thing, or I would have felt bad.
We heard the door Iesha was at splinter and rushed after her. The room inside was some kind of arcane workshop, and it had two more stained glass windows. The first depicted a man, Vorel by the looks of it, drinking the contents of a flask. The second showed him, with a terrified look on his face, being sucked into the seven sided box.
The windows also appeared to be moving a bit. We had to decide quickly whether to continue following Iesha or investigating further. I used my ring to cast a spell to allow me to see all magic auras. My eyes began to glow blue and I could see nothing from the windows. It had to be more ghosts. Eff that. We followed Iesha.
She had managed to get a bit ahead of us while I had cast my spell, but her tracks were easy for Geo to follow. From up ahead, we heard the shrieks of ghouls. We moved quickly to catch up and found Iesha under attack by a number of the creatures.
We attacked them, helping clear a path, and Iesha hurried on. In the next chamber, we found her fighting against a number of small green ghouls with watermelon-shaped heads. Or possibly ghasts. But I’m going with ghouls because “Ghoulblins” sounds better to me than “Ghastblins”
Aurora jumped down a ledge to flank the ghoulblins, and promptly took a claw attack and was once again paralyzed. We immediately jumped to her aid and took out the ghoulblin threatening her. Then we helped Iesha with the ones she was dealing with. She continued forward into a moldy room while we healed up.
We then followed her, arriving to find her in combat with Aldern Foxglove. He looked to be having trouble bringing himself to hit her, so the fight was looking kinda one sided. When he spotted me, he shouted, “You?! You’re supposed to be dead!”
“You first,” I replied, taunting him.
As Iesha continued striking him, he pulled on a mask that looked to be made of bits of human skin. No sooner had he tied it than Iesha and my companions brought him low. As he collapsed, he shouted again. “No! It wasn’t supposed to be this way!” and then his face began morphing, taking on a new appearance.
There’s no other way to say this, so I’m just going to come right out with it. He looked like me.
Aldern dead, Iesha’s face became serene. “Finally,” she whispered, then collapsed, finally heading to her eternal rest. We looked over the room. There was a suspicious mold spot shaped like a man, but that’s not what drew my attention.
On the table was my teapot, my missing socks and several other items I had lost, as well as things I had thrown away in the last week or so. As if that wasn’t creepy enough, Aurora called me over. “I think you need to see this,” she said, sounding disturbed.
Aldern was wearing a locket. Inside was a portrait of me. It was actually a pretty good portrait, though the circumstances just made it feel creepy. He was also carrying a notepad with a number of drawings of me in different poses.
I think the straw that broke the camel’s back was the drawing of me sleeping. Before I knew what was happening, I was yelling at the top of my lungs and stomping Aldern’s corpse like he was a necromorph and I was Isaac Clarke, or for the older generation, like I was Michael Bolton and he was that damned fax machine. I still remember the sensation of his skull exploding beneath my boot.
On the table was also a letter. I read it and handed it to the others to read, not quite sure I could trust myself not to growl incoherently while trying to speak.
We inspected the fungus on the wall, the patch shaped like a man. On the ground next to it was the broken pieces of what looked like a puzzle box. Geo volunteered to grab them, pulling a cloth around his face to keep from breathing spores. I cast a spell on him to protect him from any magical effects from the fungus, specifically mental control and possession, since it had been that kind of day. He gathered the pieces with no trouble and set them on the table for us to look at.
After piecing together a few of the pieces, it was beginning to take shape quickly. It was beginning to appear seven sided, and I could make out a number of the symbols on it. Yep, this was a lich’s phylactery. We couldn’t be sure what had caused it to break, but it seemed likely that the lich hadn’t completed his apotheosis. That might be why Vorel looked terrified in the stained window upstairs.
It also couldn’t be a coincidence that it was laying next to a man-shaped patch of fungus. We looked at the fungus further. It seemed to follow the shadows we cast, so Paulie shot an arrow infused with magical sunlight at it, just to see what would happen. Sure enough, the arrow somehow managed to disperse much of the fungus. A couple more arrows did little to further alter the fungus, so we began wondering how to deal with that infestation once and for all.
If this fungus was tied to undeath, then Positive Energy, the force that creates life, would probably be able to cleanse it like bleach, down to the mycelium. Sadly, we had not brought a cleric with us. We tossed some holy water at it, and that did seem to have a decent effect, but I suspected we would need at least a couple kegs of the stuff to really cleanse this place.
Worried what would happen if this fungus was allowed to spread, I brought my concerns to the others. Geo, Lenn and Aurora had no suggestions beyond returning with a cleric or two and some more holy water, but Paulie did come up with a suggestion that I really should have thought of.
“Well, if all we need is positive energy to exorcise this foul beast, perhaps we may bravely use the scroll you provided me with.”
The scroll? “I’m not so sure that shielding it against ghosts will have any real effect.”
“No, the other one,” he said. He pulled out a scroll and I saw the label I had put on the ribbon tied around it. It read “Consecrate: For Use When Swarmed by Ghouls”.
I slapped myself in the forehead for forgetting about that. “Yeah, let’s do that,” I told him. He cast the spell and the room suddenly became comfortingly warm and a soft light seemed to glow all around. The fungus began to let out an unearthly shriek as it melted away to nothing, leaving only dust behind. “What a world, what a world,” I said softly.
We gathered up Iesha’s corpse, wanting to give it a proper burial, and set out to finish looti- err, I mean exploring the house. Couldn’t leave any more dangers inside, you know. We braved a few more dangers and killed a few more ghouls, the Guffmans among them. We also slew a skaveling, a sort of bat-ghoul thing. It was probably the demon creature people reported seeing.
Among the corpses of the skaveling’s victims, we found something, or perhaps I should say someone unexpected. His face was decomposed, but still recognizable. “What have we here?” I said rhetorically. “If it isn’t Shaz ‘Red Shiv’ Bilger. You know, you’re a wanted man. There’s a reward out for you, dead or alive. Shouldn’t have attacked those caravans, Shaz. You should have lived in town, made some kind of honest living. Maybe then you’d still be alive. Oh well, least you can do is make us some money.” We threw his corpse in a separate sack from the one we were using to carry Iesha and continued upstairs.
After further inspection of the windows in the arcane workshop, we felt comfortable coming to the conclusion that the windows told the story of Vorel’s path to Lichdom, starting with his inspirations at the top, the formula he used below that, the sacrifices below there and finally the climax of the ritual and it going awry somehow. I’m not sure we’ll ever know exactly why it failed. I’m just glad that it did.
In the room were some rat cages. It looked like someone had been experimenting with the fungus on the poor things. A few were still alive, so we quickly put them out of their misery. Further inspection of the cages revealed a maker’s mark. “Pug’s Contraptions. Magnimar,” Geo read. Well, that settled it. We were going back to the big city.
Wanting to make sure we had completely cleansed the place, we took several hours to prepare the house for burning, stacking lumber soaked in alcohol or oil in numerous places throughout to maximize the burn. We also put the ghoul corpses under the piles to make sure they burned as well. While doing so, we discovered several other small caches of loot to take with us.
It was evening when we lit the fire, and night had fallen when the fire reached its full blaze. I stared out at the ocean, the blue light of the melancholy moon and the orange flames of the fire intermingling in the clear water.
I noticed her scent before I heard her, the soft scent of lilac intermingled with cured leather and metal. “Are you alright?” Aurora asked me, her voice concerned.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “You?”
“It’s too bad we couldn’t save more,” she said softly. I just nodded. We stared out at the water for several minutes, neither of us saying a word. Then, she spoke again. “Would you play something for them? Not just the ones getting the cremation, but the Foxgloves too? It doesn’t feel right letting them go with nothing to send them off.”
I nodded again and pulled out my violin. I took a moment to consider what to play. Amazing Grace might be fitting the funerary nature of this, but the grace of any god was not something the Foxgloves had. No, they had been cursed by the actions of one earlier in their line. That reminded me of another family who had similarly been cursed, though the progenitor of their family curse had become a vampire instead of a lich. Still, the similarities were striking.
I put the bow to the violin and began playing “Bloody Tears” from Castlevania, changing it on the fly from a background theme to a more melancholy tune fitting my purpose by altering the tempo, emphasizing certain notes and softening others and even altering the key and adding in my own verses as I played. I have to say that it came out pretty beautifully.
In the moonlight, I could see a single tear running down Aurora’s cheek before she thanked me and excused herself.
I stood on the cliff for a while, staring out at the ocean and considering the letter we had found on the table near Aldern. It had been addressed to him, detailing his orders for after he turned into a ghoul, including mention of a list of targets for the sihedron ritual. It was signed by someone called Xanesha.
The Skinsaw Man was not the mastermind. It wasn’t him setting up dominoes. That person could have been Xanesha, but somehow I doubted it. Either way, she was another step up on the chain of command and had much to answer for.
We had scored a goal today, but the game was still being played. We had to decide whether we felt we had done enough or if it was up to us to keep searching for the one responsible. I knew my answer. Koi koi.
I returned to the small campfire where Lenn was making dinner. We ate and began our trip back to town by moonlight, satisfied that the barren, rocky ground wouldn’t allow the flames from the manor to spread.
Upon returning to town, we had Father Zantus come cleanse us of disease, paying yet another donation to the church that it likely shouldn’t have been charging. We then returned to our rooms to get some rest so we could begin enchanting our weapons in preparation for our trip to Magnimar. Xanesha and the Brothers of Seven were waiting. We didn’t want them to wait too long.
They had a lot to answer for.
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