The High Priestess
Kasteel Zwarte and the Village of Tradeway Bridge Morning - 16th Day of the 12th Month of Year 706
Chapter 12
It was just after dawn when the persistent, urgent, and forceful knocking on Sergeant James's door, the second such event in two days, occurred. This was enough of a sign to the commander of the unit that trouble had indeed returned once more. Just like the previous night James had slept in his uniform, a practice he would soon have to change or at least make sure to take extra efforts for personal cleanliness because with only the one he wore and a spare he did not expect to have a chance to wash them out any time soon. Of course maybe the smell would help keep the killer at bay.
He belted on his sword again that sat within an arm's length of his bed and slipped into his boots as he called out through the closed door that he would be with his men presently. He found another pair of guards, these men from third squad, waiting to report what had brought them here at this early hour. James realized at that moment how much he had come to rely upon Private Rene's shoulder when decisions got too hard for a single man's conscience to deal with alone. The pair said nothing immediately, waiting for James to bid them to speak, but they could do that just as easily while all three of them walked so he bid them to lead him where they would before giving the order to report their news.
He was mildly surprised that the pair turned toward the prison wing rather than the courtyard. While his men had sealed the well, it still seemed the only entry or access point to he hidden room so was the means by which he expected the creature that had attacked Private Andre and likely killed Private Flo to still use. Maybe then this situation was related to the prisoner and not whatever had happened to his two privates just over twenty four hours ago. But as they got closer to the end of the corridor James noted the two all too familiar piles of seemingly discarded clothing and weapon and he knew right away that the attacker had returned.
"Alright privates what do we know as fact?" The sergeant asked as he bent down and ran his hands through all that remained of the first soldier. Once again the belongings were undamaged and showed no signs of blood or violence. The scene looked once more like two men of his command had suddenly come to the idea to discard everything they owned and abandon their assigned posts without a stitch of clothing. James did note the drawn short sword lying just beyond the second pile of clothes and at least accepted that one of the two guards had been able to try and fight whatever had come for the pair this time. But based on the fact he too was missing and the lack of blood or any mark on the blade made it seem obvious to the sergeant that this soldier's effort was still for naught.
"Sir the kobolds attacked last night and captured two more of our men." The first private reported barely able to hold back his rage. He had demanded only facts so James looked at the men with an obvious question plastered upon his face. Then the sergeant noted that the doors to both the prisoner's and Private Andre's rooms were open and that the men were expecting him to look in these as well. James stood up immediately taking along the exposed sword that lay on the ground for momentary convenience rather than drawing his own blade and pushed the door to the makeshift prison cell open long enough to note that the room was indeed empty of its former occupant. But this was simply an action that took no additional time as James walked straight into the room where Private Andre had been placed by his fellow soldiers and had been sitting within more than a full day already.
But the private was no longer sitting on his bed as he had been. Instead the catatonic soldier was lying on his back with his uniform torn open and now on his chest a dog like face had been carved by what appeared to be his own dagger which lay discarded at his side. He could see by the tension in the stances of the men who had accompanied him that they were enraged to the point nearly beyond rational thought. Maybe the combination of the whispers he heard in his soul along with this scene is why they were willing to believe that two more of their comrades had been kidnapped when the story actually seemed so implausible. James could not remember if kobolds were known to dine on human flesh or not but he suspected the men in the room believed that this is what had happened or would very soon to their comrades.
The sergeant turned away from his companions to look closer at his injured man. The wounds on Private Andre were not very deep which seemed to say to a rational mind, if James could still consider his own to be rational, that the maker had intended to leave a message for the other soldiers to find not to add another body, or actually a lack of one, to his list of crimes. Of course the wounds had still spilled blood upon the floor and seemingly conveniently at least one of the kobolds had stepped in this pool and left a total of three hard to miss tracks heading toward the door before this trail of evidence faded completely away.
This scene and even more so the response of his soldiers left the sergeant in the midst of yet another moral dilemma. James himself was almost certain that this scene before him was staged by whomever or whatever had actually killed the guards. He based this on the fact that the kobold's footprints in the blood were barefoot and the one they had capture the day before had been wearing footwear that had had been stripped from it before it had been locked in its cell. To James this indicated that either the footprints were made by the 'escaped' and otherwise missing prisoner's feet or kobolds had suddenly decided they liked the feel of cold ground and even colder stone beneath their pointy pawed toes.
That second option, the one that his men seemed willing to believe, that a second completely different barefoot kobold along with how many others of its kind had somehow snuck into the castle again, dispatched two of his well season soldiers without leaving a mark on their clothes, spirited their bodies off along with the former prisoner as well and took the time to leave this bloody tattoo to say they had been there seemed too incredible.
Of the two options, James accepted the first as truth though he also had no collaborating proof to his assumption because by his men's stripping all the possessions off the prisoner they had inadvertently left no chance of clothing or other objects for the attacker to leave behind to mark the prisoner's death. He doubted with a full search, which of course he would have to organize to show his men he believed them, they still would not find any similar evidence of its likely death as there was with James's soldiers. But that begged a further question. Why would the killer want to leave evidence that pointed toward the kobolds rather than himself?
Obviously whoever was committing these crimes had no problem overpowering a pair of guards so why hide his skill? Unless perhaps the purpose was in fact to do just that, hide his involvement so that the guilty party was seen to be nothing more than the kobolds. But all that would do is enrage his men even further against their declared enemy and from the two standing silently in the room with him it was obvious that this, if that was the actual goal, had succeeded. What then did that serve?
Was the killer then desiring for the soldiers to eliminate the kobold for him? Was it perhaps because they had stolen his icon and he wanted revenge on them for that? Those pieces seemed to fit the various elements of the story, but James knew the picture he was creating was based purely upon speculation and almost nothing on fact. But at least it fit the evidence and that was enough for him to go on at least as a starting point.
This of course brought James right back to his moral dilemma. The sergeant had never believed in lying to his men, but what purpose would it serve at this point to try to explain his pure speculations that they would likely be unwilling to believe? If these two soldiers were any sort of example, none of the others would be likely to even listen to theories without any evidence in their current state of rage. And since today was the day the unit might in fact do battle with these foes, maybe it was good they were mentally prepared to fight and fight hard. Perhaps he could use the rage to his own benefit. Unfortunately the dark whispers within him seemed to grow stronger as he honestly considered this course of action.
By playing along with this illusion was he in fact playing directly into the hands of whoever was actually responsible? He just did not know the answer to that question and it was not something his mentors had ever encountered themselves or if they had, none had seen fit to pass along in a lesson. But still the one rule they had driven home, the first in fact, was surely applicable now. When in command, command! Do not be seen by your men to appear to not be in control of the situation at all times or they will doubt you and your leadership and then eventually doubt themselves as well. James had to follow this hard learned imperative.
"I want Private Andre bandaged up and placed back on clean sheets before the unit departs to meet up with the caravan this morning." James's own anger and stress lent itself much easier to supplementing in the way he gave his orders rather than trying to put them back into the bottle. He took a long drawn breath to calm himself when his men turned away and began to immediately implement his orders. Finally once more in control, the sergeant himself stood up and walked out the room, tossing the failed sword in his hand down onto the piles of discarded goods that silently spoke of his failure before he strode off down the corridor.
James headed to the temporary residence established for the cleric and the scholar. He hoped by telling them what had occurred one of his guests would be able to shed some light on either what type of creature they were facing or at least what its motivations likely were. The soldier had learned under his tutorage that when you can not beat your opponent in a straight up fight, your next best course of action was to deny them whatever their goal was. Once the enemy understood that they would not achieve their goal, often times it took away the willingness to do battle. But applying this concept relied upon the hope that someone could explain to him the motivations of a killer as more than just simply the desire to kill.
Unfortunately his train of thought was interrupted as he reached a different door along his path and suddenly remembered what he had forgotten to do last night. How he was going to explain to his commander that he had failed to report to her twice when she had directed him to? The sergeant could not even begin to fathom a possible excuse for this failure to obey so direct an order. He would never accept one from a subordinate. He also did not think bypassing her door at this point to continue his own investigation was a smart choice because ignoring this specific problem would not likely make the problem he was in go away.
He knocked properly and stood waiting until slowly the door opened up and Lieutenant Robin peeked around the entrance obviously once again in a state of complete undress. Even though her hair appeared like she had not slept well her eyes sparkled in mirth. "Ah yes Sergeant James." She said his name with a laugh that seemed genuine rather than one where anger might be brewing just below the surface.
James began an off the cuff explanation and an apology but she cut him off before the first word got out of his mouth. "I am sorry sergeant but I fell asleep at my desk last night and never even heard you knock." She offered him a smile, the same one that he knew she wore anytime she wanted to bend a man to her will. "Will you ever forgive me?"
At first the sergeant thought she was trying some strange form of reverse psychology on him to get him to slip up. But as her smile seemed to dip guiltily after a moment of his inability to respond, he realized that she was telling the truth, or at least as much of it as she wanted him to know. She overplayed her hand even further as he seemed to be resistant to her so far. "If you save me a seat at breakfast you can bring me up to date on today's battle plans and I can give you the list you were asking for. Say quarter of an hour?" Once again that lovely smile that had obviously broken many men's hearts before him was offered up on a platter. Ah well it was a meal worth at least tasting he kidded himself.
"Very good ma'am." He even saluted and she giggled as she closed the door. With one problem inadvertently solved for the moment James hurried to get to his guests, hoping a quarter hour would be sufficient time to discuss what had occurred and make a completely different set of battle plans than those the unit would executed this day.
The professor ushered James in the door to the well lit room only after his third time of forceful and determined knocking. He had begun to worry these two men had also fallen victim to the killer had he not been reassured by the sounds of at least one occupant moving around the room, likely getting dressed while he stood in the hallway. Finally the scholar had opened the door slowly and only wide enough to just see out, found seemingly satisfactorily that the sergeant was alone, and then rushed the soldier inside and closed the door again without a word. To James the old scholar looked on the verge of a maniacal episode rather than the more normal calm demean he had worn in their first two encounters.
"Professor Ofwald what is wrong?" The man's old eyes seemed not to focus on anyone or anything but rather to dart to the darkest parts of the room. He also failed to answer or even acknowledge the question he had been asked. On instinct James reached up and slapped the man directly across the face, nearly spinning the elder's head while making him fall back to a sitting position on the floor. The dark edges that pressed on the sergeant's soul whispered to him of how good the blow had felt and enticed him to strike out yet again. But the sergeant had prepared himself for this and was able to resist the siren like calls to further violence.
The shock of the blow on the old man's cheek had been enough to draw him out of whatever waking nightmare had held the professor in its grasp. His eyes slowly lost their inability to focus and once the scholar had taken a long draught from a metal flask he kept inside his coat, his breathing too appeared to return to its more normal and even state.
"Ah sergeant can I offer you a nip?" The scholar stood back up and presented the brandy flask which was politely waved off. It was early, even for a soldier, to be drinking. Hans took one further quick nip and then tucked it back in the inside pocket of his coat.
"Where is Father Damien?" James asked seeing only the rumpled piles of bedding, from both beds it seemed, piled on one of the two. Likely the cleric had gone to breakfast himself upon awakening. From his girth, James doubted the reverend leader missed too many meals. The room itself did not appear in any other way to be out of order, except that the priest's medallion used in his worship of Erza lay on the floor near the desk. That seemed an odd place for a holy man to put so important an object of his faith but perhaps it had merely fallen off the edge.
"You will find him, or at least what is left of him, under those blankets." The professor pointed to the bedding pile. "Your killer paid us a visit last night. It seems that he objected to your invitation of a holy man into his castle. He objected so much that, well you can look for yourself if you want."
James took a single step toward the bed and then stopped short, realizing that if the professor had covered up the body, most likely the sergeant would not like to observe it for himself. Instead he turned around and faced the man again. "Yet you still live." The slight accusation hung in the air. "Did you see what killed him, or speak to it? Do you know what it is we are facing? Do you know what it wants?"
"The answers are no on the first and yes to the second and we never truly got to the third or fourth in our discussions." The professor added a bit of a twisted grin, obviously becoming more comfortable now that he realized dawn had risen. The sergeant though did not seem to be nearly as entertained by this astrological fact as the scholar was and waited rather impatiently. His blunt cough drew Professor Ofwald's attention back to this fact.
"Yes I did speak to the creature who claims to be the owner and builder of this castle." Hans began explaining. "He also claims to be immortal and admits to feeding upon your men for his own sustenance. While there were two the first day I assumed from his words there was at least one more last night?" He paused as if expecting the sergeant to respond to his own question before answering.
James nodded his head. "Two at least." He explained. "And possibly also the kobold prisoner, though I have no way to confirm this at the moment." He grew silent signaling that the scholar was the one who was supposed to be reporting not himself.
"Well if it matters, he does not kill because it is personal, except for the cleric over there, but rather sees us in the same way as we see cattle, sheep, or swine, just a convenient source of sustenance." While the words were meant to be lighthearted they failed this badly leaving a very awkward and delayed silent pause in the air.
"I assume it is a vampire then?" James asked. The sergeant knew only a little of such things and doubted that the scholar was well versed in them either, but since the most likely knowledgeable person on the undead was currently unavailable and wrapped up in some blankets not five feet away James was willing to accept whatever confirmation he could get.
"I believe so but as I said I never actually saw the creature, even when it lifted me from my chair by the throat." The professor pulled his collar down to show a set of similar purple bruises that Private Andre had sported yesterday as well. At least the sergeant could take comfort in the fact that they came from fingers rather than teeth as the bard's stories related. That or the professor was choosing to leave a little detail out of his own story.
"I have two other bits of information you will find important." Hans Ofwald continued his explanation. "First the owner of this fine structure ordered me to remove the body of the dear deceased Father outside the walls, in fact he instructed me to ensure that I convey a message to the priest's church to send no more equally foolish 'goddess worshippers' to this place lest he get really mad." The professor swallowed. "You can understand that I intend to follow this instruction to the letter and pass that message since I would prefer this repressed anger not be direct toward myself."
"I think he was the only assigned priest for this village so it is unlikely there is another to discourage from coming. I agree however to you accomplishing this mission if for no other reason that the Father deserves to be put to rest at his church. I will though ask you to wait until after the troops march out in an hour or so to prevent unnecessary explanations on my part." The sergeant conceded to the request and then made an offer. "In fact I will even assist your efforts by allowing you to take the lieutenant's horse to carry the body as long as you bring it back once you are done." The subtle statement that he expected the scholar to return was received without question but was accompanied by a nervous swallow.
"Well then that is a perfect segue to my second bit of news." He reached for one more pull of his trusty flask to strengthen his resolve toward returning. "The night before last I happened to dine with not one but two self declared vampire hunters and a few others that I believe generally fit the normal description of adventurers. With your permission I would like to invite them to join the party here as it is just a bit too much excitement not to share. Do you have any objections?"
James took this first bit of unexpected good news with a look of complete astonishment. Then he began to nod his head before the words were even correctly formed in his head. "Please do so." He started. "If fact you can offer them up to one hundred gold lions each if they come and put this creature to rest, or half that if they can keep any more of my men from dying for the remainder of our assignment!"
The professor nodded, not having thought about the others actually getting paid for their services when he had mentioned it. At least Sellers would likely be open to the idea. Hopefully those who could not be bought like Erik Shadowborne would accept the mission as serving the common good or some other nonsensical notion that caused those foolish enough to be called adventurers to recklessly throw their lives away.
True to his word in less than an hour, the entire unit with the exception of Private Andre, departed Kasteel Zwarte for their date with a southbound caravan coming down from Lamordia. From their determined march all the men were eager for battle and a chance of payback for the five of their number who were not present. That is all the men except for the one who realized that this battle was likely just a distraction from the real horror that endangered their nation. But Sergeant James still had a duty to perform and walking beside his young green lieutenant rather than his trusted number two, he put those thoughts away and focused solely on the battle to come.
Our own awakening for those of us at the inn was in fact no greater a chance to wake slowly into consciousness than the good sergeant had been granted with this same morning. While it was not an incessant beating upon my door with a cry to rouse to action as he had faced, mine was instead the growing trumpet of shouts of a mob supposedly seeking justice. It was cries and demands for just such a reckoning that echoed through my closed windows as they approached from down the street.
I stumbled out of my rented bed and to my feet, my legs sorely objecting in response to their prolonged forced march yesterday, while my stomach and head seemed equally vexed by a bit more consumption of alcohol than was proper before reaching my bed. I vaguely remembered young Mr. Sellers asking in my medical opinion if the old the old adage "liquor before wine feeling fine; wine before liquor never sicker" was actually based in medical fact or was instead an old wives' tale. As I had myself never met a single old wife who had proclaimed such a tale and having already consumed a few too many brandies I foolishly suggested we put the theory to a test for science sake. Sellers had been drinking wine all night so it seemed the easiest and best method to test this theory by simply exchanging glasses for a round or two. I assumed since my part of the theory would leave me 'feeling fine' that I had gotten the better part of the deal. I must report that like so many other old wives' tales this one was only half based in factual results. Right now I hoped that the young fool Sellers was nearing death, because if what I was experiencing qualified as feeling fine, then he better have been condemned to the fifth ring of hell. But all of this is of course a distraction from the story so please allow me to continue.
A mob of six people, in a city the size of this village that constituted a mob, had indeed formed and they were chanting that it was a time for common man's justice. While I knew none of these people personally, like everyone else in this small village, their faces were beginning to look familiar. I was later informed that their leader was the very same forester who had tracked and shot Private Rene right outside the church. And with him now were four farmers and another woodcutter all of whom it turned out themselves lived in the homes closest to where the murdered had as well. Their words left little doubt that a trial would be a waste of time as far as they were concerned. Frontier justice it seemed in towns where the militia was not assigned was best dealt to be swift, serious, and final in its application.
As the small group passed my window and continued down the street I quickly pulled myself together and made my way out to the common room in hopes of following and seeing what would take place. Also I figured that my medical skills may soon be called into service. I was surprised to see only one other was within the common room of the inn not even the owner which was most likely due to the early hour. The exception beyond myself of course was Lady Liza who I noted was wearing only a blanket that she had wrapped around herself for both modesty and warmth as she stared after the crowd walking further down the street. She had yet to notice me as I approached and I think I heard her mumble softly "So it has begun."
My steps brought me nearly up to the point directly behind her before she caught their sound and turned around obviously startled to see me awake and approaching her. A look somewhere between shock and annoyance crossed her face, which I took to understand that obviously she was also less than pleased having been be awoken to such hooligan displays when normal folk are still abed. "What has begun Liza?" I asked more out of polite conversation to acknowledge her presence than in any real interest in whatever she spoke of. In truth I wanted to follow the crowd and see what would happen for myself, knowing somehow it would be important.
She stopped in her tracks headed back to her room and turned to level her gaze at me. "You misheard me Doctor." She replied in an even and serious tone. "I said that certainly does not look like fun. Those people are heading to hang Private Rene for the murder of that woodcutter and his wife yesterday. I have seen such displays of anger before and would not like to be him." She turned once more and headed back up the stairs, her destination undoubtedly the room she was sharing with Erik. "Since you appear to be headed that way, please let me know what takes place. I unfortunately think I smell blood and death in the air." She waited for me to nod to her request and then wandered off while I myself headed out the door just a few steps after the so called seekers of frontier justice.
While much of the community citizenship was watching but not taking sides in this event, a small cadre of villagers including the missing innkeeper, a local giant blacksmith, and a few other locals, predominant merchants, stood in the street interposed between the mob and where the militia soldier was being held. This second group was also armed, primarily with clubs at their sides, the sole exception being the blacksmith who sported a large hammer on his shoulder. This second group of defenders called for their neighbors to stop their advance and return to their homes, promising that once Father Damien returned they would have an official trial for the accused as was right and proper. While their words were meant to be calming, their firm and determined stances demonstrated in an almost challenging manner that this second group was not about to allow a potentially innocent suspect with a completely reasonable story to be hanged until all the facts were heard.
The first group did not stop its advance though they did slow somewhat as they readjusted their grip on their own weapons they carried. The individuals did not take to well to the suggestion to return to their homes finding the idea a bit condescending and instead made a series of suggestions to the second group that as a doctor and an authority on such things would strongly recommend against attempting. While I approached the statements from purely a scientific framework of mind, the recipients of these suggestions took them far more emotionally and much to my surprise the two groups were suddenly engaged in a full all out brawl that was quickly devolving even further into a life and death event.
Being a doctor I have seen and treated the results of many common barroom brawls and other similar levels of disagreement. Thankfully I can say that in almost every case, even when alcohol was involved, that human beings tended to show a level of restraint during these encounters that I have come to doubt is present in other similar type creatures such as goblins or kobolds. Even in the midst of a strictly emotional dispute, men rarely seek to actually kill each other, realizing that this is a line that once crossed allows for no stepping back over. The ability to knowingly cross this line is what separates the common brawler from a trained soldier.
The battle before me violated this rule as it resembled more actually a war than a heated tavern discussion and the first blows offered in this dispute, those issued by the original mob, showed no evidence of being anything less than strikes to kill. Thankfully since they were not trained warriors only one of the six blows actually landed as intended, that one on a merchant's skull that dropped him in the street. The other strokes were either blocked or missed their targets; though they demonstrated the message of how serious the first group was about this fight for first blood had indeed been drawn.
The blacksmith standing next to the unfortunate merchant had been splattered by pink brain material from the blow and having himself only barely avoided being impaled upon the pitchfork his farmer opponent had jabbed at him, the giant smith roared and responded in an equal level of violence. Within less than a minute all six of the enraged mob were dead or dying while four of the defenders were also joining them in the afterlife. The last two defenders standing, the blacksmith and the innkeeper both sported bruises and potentially broken bones which I offered to help. Most shocking though as I treated these two men is that I could see from the looks of others in the crowd that had observed this event that not all or even most of them were as horrified by the bloodshed and death as I had been. In fact some, those I would call the most aggressive, had a glimmer of excitement and enjoyment in their eyes and a hint of disappointment that the show had concluded.
By the time I had treated the two survivors and offered my shoulder for the innkeeper to lean on as we made our way back to his establishment, the rest of the town's citizens had broken up to return to their own morning rituals once more. That is except for those few who had come forth to volunteer to take the bodies of their former friends and neighbors to the church for burial. Never having been to this establishment I started to wonder at what point this facility would become inundated by too many funerals to perform or places to store the bodies in the interim.
My companions were now awake and sitting around our common table as the owner and I reached the establishment and entered. The innkeeper let go of my shoulder and hobbled off on his own power after promising us a free breakfast for our group as his way of saying thank you for the personal assistance I had provided him. I tried to wave him off but he would hear nothing of it.
While our breakfast cooked I brought my companions up to date on what I had observed this morning, paying special attention to mention the seemingly odd effect the battle had upon some of those who had observed it. My companions, with only the exception of Erik, seemed just as disturbed by this observation. The vampire hunter though explained in his experience that such desires for violence were not uncommon in many lands he had travelled including ones that deemed themselves the most civilized. He personally believed that this emotion was merely better internally suppressed in lands such as ours, not that the same base desires were not present. The look in Liza's eyes seemed to be one of disagreement with that statement but she chose not to offer any additional council.
As we neared the completion of our meal we were surprisingly joined by a very tired looking Professor Ofwald who spotted our group immediately and seemed most relieved by this meeting. He joined us at once and called for his own breakfast as well before launching into the tale of what had so far transpired within the castle and focused especially on his own encounter with the creature last night.
As a group, we each reacted to this story with far different emotions. Erik seemed the most excited and his suggestions leaned toward departing immediately for the castle to do battle. I was the opposite end of the spectrum and responded in a more academic way making the Professor repeat every part of his story, especially repeating what the creature itself had said two or three times while remaining uncommitted to any follow up actions. Sellers looked skeptically at these events, obviously doubting either their occurrence or that he himself had any profit to make from this. Liza continued to hold her emotions in check, not offering any hint to us of what she was thinking. In truth I found this reaction the strangest of all. Keichi seemed also to want to understand these events before jumping into the midst of them much like I did, but his was driven more by a desire to tell the story than to solve the problem. Finally Kelesh and Anderros both leaned toward immediate action as well, thinking that the declared age of the creature fit conveniently with the story of someone hunting them from beyond the grave.
Based on these emotions the discussions around our table erupted into two camps, one led by Erik that promoted direct action to seek out and destroy this creature, and the other led by myself to not rush off but instead to try and better understand this entire situation by taking a step back and evaluating it objectively. I will say that while I was the less experienced of the declared vampire hunters, the story the professor provided led me to additional doubts and more questions that I could not reconcile for myself. My teacher had been specific in stating that a vampire's lair was always the very center of its power, so rushing off unprepared into such surroundings only gave advantage to your opponent who was almost always prepared for this event.
I also was made uncomfortable with the excitement level that the professor was displaying at these events. While I can admit from first hand knowledge that facing such a creature and walking away alive certainly gets ones blood flowing, there was some undefined quality to the way he told the story that did not seem correct to me. While I had barely known him a day ago and had rating him as a rather bookish boor, today something in his personality seemed to have changed to make him more a thrill seeker than an objective observer. And where vampires may be concerned such dramatic changes in personalities made me highly suspicious. I wanted to share my concerns, especially with Erik who I figured may have also seen such things in the past, but with Professor Ofwald sitting here there truly was no way for me to do so.
Finally we agreed to put the issue up for a vote as to what the best course of action for the entire group would be. We decided that whatever the majority of our seven members decided would be accepted by one and all. The professor was not allowed a vote as he brought forth the request for aid so was biased to its outcome. Hands raised in support of direct action showed Erik, Anderros, and Kelesh all immediately agreeing to return to the castle, while the other four of us said we wished to investigate this situation further before committing to this course of action.
"The sergeant has offered you each one hundred gold lions if you help him destroy this creature." Professor Ofwald added at the very end of the discussion almost as an after thought. I found it odd that only now was this little tidbit offered to change the vote. Thankfully I was not the only one who saw this as strange.
"It is too late the vote has already been tallied…" I began to try to turn the idea off but of course that was not so easily done.
"Wait!' Sellers of course now showed a new level of interest. "I want to change my vote. I think offering our services to these soldiers is the right thing to do." In truth he had shown no motion one way or the other in the vote, choosing to take more time because he gambled nothing while the rest of us searched for more information. Now though a significant offer of wealth had been added to the mix.
Erik started to smile in supposed victory as I began to call the vote once more. He too had been caught off guard by the way this offer had been presented and looked at my eyes, the professor's and finally Liza's before speaking up himself. "If Sellers can change his vote than I chose to do so also." He said shocking all of us but none more so than the Hans Ofwald. The old scholar looked to make a final argument, but the determined smile on the young nobleman's face passed the message he would not be changing his mind and switching his vote again. And when the leader of the opposition changes parties, I could see the rest, with perhaps the exception of Sellers, came right along with him. It is one thing to agree to hunting a vampire with an experienced guide to teach you what not to do, but Kelesh and Anderros were not about to throw their lives away without a leader who was himself in complete agreement that this was the best course of action.
The professor stood up formally and obviously in a huff but offered his thanks for hearing him out and turned to go. "You are not actually going back there by yourself are you?" Anderros asked him.
"I have to." The professor replied. "First of all I promised to return the horse I borrowed. But more importantly I think I have established a level of rapport with the creature. He has the knowledge you all are seeking as well as obvious power. I have to find out more about all this for myself at least." I do not think Hans even realized the look he wore on his face as he talked about the creature's power.
We sat in silence digesting all we had heard for a full ten minutes after the professor had departed before Erik turned and looked at me to break the silence with a question. "Do you think he has become a slave to that creature?" He asked, stating aloud for the first time to the others a concern that only perhaps he and I had knowledge of.
As I stated in my previous volume the collection of living slaves, willing or compelled, is one aspect of vampires that I find most disturbing. Of the two I find willing to be the most distressing for these are men or women agreeable to selling out their humanity for whatever gifts the undead master could offer them, most often immortality and similar undead power to itself. As I looked at the faces of my companions at the table they were being woken up by Erik's question to this possibility themselves and met it with looks of outright skepticism or overwhelming horror.
"I do not know what to believe in this case." I admitted honestly. "The marks on his neck may have come from a touch as he stated, but they could just as easily been the results of a bite." This second action, a partial draining not to kill but only to join their minds was the most common shackles of vampiric slavery. "I assume I was not the only one here to see the look in his eyes as he spoke of power?"
"Then is it not even more vital that we journey to this castle and help him destroy this creature before it consumes his soul completely?" Surprisingly it was the half-elf who asked this question. Until now Kelesh still remained the least vocal of our group when options were discussed. Of course the idea of someone becoming a slave of the undead is not so different as to what would have happened to his tribe so his concern for the professor was easily understandable.
"No, I think it is more foolish for us to rush off to challenge a creature before we truly know anything about it." I replied. "I assume you do not start a hunt for food without an idea of what it is you are hunting for?" This seemed to cool Kelesh's question without raising his hackles.
"Evan assuming everything in the professor's story is truthful, what do we truly know about this creature?" Anderros asked catching on to what my own way of thinking about such things was. I smiled at him seeing a budding intellectual hunter not unlike myself, though one potentially armed with the powers of magic at his disposal. Perhaps with the proper guidance and experience this would make him a far more dangerous opponent to the undead than a simple country doctor.
"We know or can assume with a level of reasonable certainty that the creature has lived in this castle for a long time, though I offer it is more likely he was a prisoner rather than a master of this environment. I make this last assessment based both by his own words regarding clerics and the realization that the murders are only known to have begun after the private went down the well. Before then the people who supposedly stayed in the castle were driven off by bad dreams of being buried alive." I stated what I was most sure of first. Also these facts seemed key to me in many aspects for if the castle somehow had been able to contain the creature, it likely also had a means to do so again if we could figure out how.
"But if he was in a sealed room and then released, I do not see how we could contain him this way again. In my own experience I have found vampires to be difficult to trick." Erik replied evenly showing that he was open to this form of hunting provided it showed the potential for a tangible result.
"What about the icon the kobold spoke of?" Liza chimed in and immediately changed the direction of the conversation. I myself had keyed on this idea when Professor Ofwald had first mentioned the sergeant's discussion with the prisoner but the more I thought about it the more I was ready to dismiss it as merely a blind alley.
"If the vampire truly built the castle, then the icon he placed there is not something he is likely to fear." I replied. "And from all we know about these events its removal a week ago or more did not set the creature free." My argument seemed solid and logical and put Liza back in her seat with a definite frown on her face.
"You said IF the creature truly built the castle." The skald Keichi spoke up just above a whisper. "I am sorry to interrupt so knowledgeable a man such as yourself Doctor Van Richten, but from my own story a castle much like this one was built by another to contain the evil, not by the evil itself. Could such a thing not be the same here as well?"
The idea rocked me back on my heels for I was ignoring a key rule when dealing with vampires; they had both the willingness and skill to lie when required to protect themselves from harm. The only emotionally honest action that we could currently account to this creature was the slaying of the cleric and the creature's follow up direction that other priests not come to the castle. If one took its declared history as a lie then perhaps the truth was a cleric was indeed what was necessary as was often the case. Of course that actually did not help us since the village only had the one priest, though I knew we could send for additional help from the Great Temple of Erza outside of Port-a Lucien if we felt we required it.
But all eyes were still looking at me for a response since I was the resident expert on the way such creatures thought and behaved. "Indeed it could Keichi, and I thank you for pointing this out." I turned to regard each of my companions still at the table who seemed waiting for a plan of action while my mind raced off along this new and exciting possibility that I had overlooked. "We know the creature resides in the castle and as of yet have seen no evidence that it is free to move beyond its walls, though I suspect the enraged animal effects from two nights ago shows it has some ability to influence activities beyond those walls exists as well."
I paused and laid out more of my thoughts almost as I was developing them. "We also know that it chose to implicate the kobolds for these last murders and the only possible tie in that we are aware of for that is because they supposedly stole some sort of icon from the castle." I thought momentarily. "So either the icon is something it fears, so wants the thieves dealt with before they can correct this issue, or it is something he covets. Either of those options provides possibilities that the object may provide us insight to destroy the creature."
Everyone was leaning a bit forward in their seat for they seemed to know where I was leading this. "I recommend that we set forth first to recover this object before we turn our attentions directly to our foe." Most heads nodded in immediate agreement and I was happy to see that Erik also acknowledged this a worthy path to pursue at least for the present.
Of course there was the simple fact that none of us actually knew where this tribe of kobolds lived, which Sellers was the quickest to point out. Kelesh however came through on this account and offered up that this type of creature tended to live in forest camps or caves. He furthermore related this hunt to the local geography and stated with certainty that they did not live in the forests to the south and southeast where his own tribe had been. So that left only the woods to the southwest which led toward the more human populated areas of the country which the half-elf thought unlikely due to the limited number of reported encounters with the creatures or those forests to the northwest that were even more remote than where we were now. He promised that once we had stepped into those woods ourselves he would be able to find any kobold trails and track them to their lair for us.
Time now seemed of the essence if we were going to begin our searches this day so we split up to retrieve any necessary personal belongings we required along with gathering a few days of cold rations for the road which the innkeeper was happy to provide for a reasonable sum. Liza and Kelesh broke into an immediate discussion of arrows and while the half-elf was able to offer up some potentially useful missiles armed with nature based elements for other potential woodland encounters, Liza stated she was going to get some basic silver and steel arrowheads for the pair of them to use and was off like a flash, promising to return in less than an hour. Keichi exited closely behind her as well after Anderros ask the skald to help him acquire additional specific spell components if they were available in this town for purchase. The young mage meanwhile would go seclude himself in his room to prepare whatever spells he thought most likely to be needed.
Erik and I spoke a moment about what else would be necessary since he was obviously the most experienced adventurer of the group. Without a cleric in out party to heal wounds, the next best option we had was mundane healing salves, some of which Kelesh had, but others, such as a certain black tar known to draw poison from a wound if applied early, he did not. Erik offered Sellers another purse of coins and asked him to go shop around for this substance starting with the midwives we had fought besides. He was also to collect bandages for slightly more serious wounds if possible.
I finally looked to my own gear, which as far as weapons went was limited to the dagger that I carried. I did however take along those things I found useful in killing vampires, since one never really knows what all is going to be needed. I was thankfully that even barring a cleric I had a good mix of companions with wide ranging skills so we should be able to engage a tribe of kobolds if we were wary. I could not help but think about the professor and what type of dangers he would face this night without our help while we were off on our own mission. While not much of a religious man myself, I did offer my prayers to any benevolent god who might be listening to watch over the old scholar.
This thought reminded me that I had consumed my quantities of holy water and wafers yesterday with the wights. I felt it important to try and reconstitute my collection and this meant visiting the now temporarily unstaffed shrine to Erza in hopes that the now deceased Father Damien kept a supply of such things available. Before any of you readers think less of me for stealing from a church, know that I counted out a purse of coins that would be considered a fair price for such objects in any town and planned to leave them in the temple treasure or barring that with the innkeeper. Armed with this coin I went in search of the sacraments.
Madame Beth looked at the bodies lain out in the makeshift morgue beneath the chapel with mixed emotions. In a way she felt responsible for these deaths and even guiltier in that she would use them to further her own needs instead of allowing them to go on to their individually deserved afterlives. But she weighed this sin she was forced to partake of in balance against the greater ones that would be caused by her inaction. By comparison there really was no choice in whether she would take the next action. She just hoped the powers that be would understand this and not judge to harshly when her own time finally came.
Ten bodies the very limit she would normally attempt with this spell but if she was successful it would go a long way toward what she expected she required. Had she had access to her spell focus, her ability to channel that much negative plane energy into these corpses to restore them to undead life would not have fazed her. But since she had given up that object for a more important spell, she had to now channel this power directly through herself instead, which have even more drastic effects on her aged body. But once again that choice was actually already made by the events now underway in the village and so out of her hands.
She called upon her goddess for this spell rarely sought by any others of her order but once again added her personal pleas and reasoning to provide understanding of her intentions as best she could. She felt the magic being granted to her, accompanied by a subtle hint of resigned sadness from her goddess herself that Beth took as a good sign.
The dark destructive magic coursed through her body to her hands, filling one empty husk of a corpse to undead life before she moved to the next and repeated the process. Beth could see the effects of this evil magic coursing through her own body as well as new age spots appeared and grew on her arms before her eyes. But still she did not turn away from her higher duty. She also poured days of her own life energy into the bodies with the magic, knowing she was rapidly shortening her own existence to less than three months by this casting. But even if she only had a week remaining, that would still be enough Beth believed to fulfill this final task that had been set before her. It was her destiny now that she was facing and she had almost waited too long to acknowledge it.
The spell was finally completed and Beth saw ten new pairs of restored eyes open and staring as they waited for her command. She leaned heavily upon the wall to steady herself and spoke. "Do not move or reveal your life to anyone but me." She commanded and the zombies shut their eyes to await her next command. She thought to herself for a moment. I shall call you soon to perform your duty and then you will be released to your deserved afterlives. Then Madame Beth turned her thoughts to other those remaining duties still required of her. Then she heard the knocking upon the great temple doors. More had come, and perhaps they too were bearing bodies. With a resigned sigh the old woman trudged up the stairs to find who was seeking entrance into the now abandoned temple.
Gnash leader of the Rabid Fangs kobold tribe watched the three merchant wagons coming through the wooded roadway toward his ambush point. He laughed as he confirmed that the stupid soldiers had fallen for his plan and were hunting the kobolds near the black stone castle where they had attacked the last two shipments.
The Brain had warned him of their trap to catch him so he had brought his warriors further south in the woods and catch the caravan in lands they would normally think of as safe. That way he could still destroy these merchants as The Brain had directed him to and still not get into a battle with those pesky militia men. His smile overflowed into a bark of excitement that one of his nearby flunkies heard and repeated to bond with his leader but received a cuff on the ear for not maintaining silence.
Gnash looked to see if the merchants had heard this noise but was relieved to see they showed no signs of that. The three humans who guided the horses plodding along looked almost asleep atop their wagons and why not, since they had passed the normally dangerous area already and would be safe in the big human city before nightfall. That was up until the driver of the first wagon noticed the old dead tree that had fallen across the road, helped more than a bit by a few kobold soldiers, blocking all further forward movement of the horses and wagons.
The first merchant called his cart to a halt and was accompanied by similar commands from his two partners, a human female and a male. Gnash noted there were no guards with this caravan but that did not worry him. The first one they had hit also was unprotected and the second only had four guards. That was of course was why the soldiers had been called in, so while the militia were stalking further north up the road for him and his tribe, Gnash was about to make off with the goods yet again, and his tribe would get to enjoy another horse roast this evening.
Before he could give the signal to the troop surrounding him nearly twenty kobolds on the far side of the road charged the caravan with hoops and hollers waiving their swords as they attacked. Though Gnash was furious that they had not waited for his command, at least they had followed direction not to use bows unless guards were present. Last time they had accidentally killed one of the horses in their attack so had not been able to take the beast along for food which could have provided more than a week's meat for the tribe's stew pots.
Gnash still held his remaining dozen warriors in reserved though he could see they too were eager for battle. It was not often the diminutive kobolds had big humans at their mercy and were able to torture them before the killing so all his soldiers wanted to take a part in the entertainment. Finally he succumbed to their desires and nodded his acceptance to send the rest to join the charge. He decided he would allow all his warriors this one final enjoyment before winter stopped the caravans.
The far side group was almost to the wagons when the woman's voice cried out. Gnash liked hearing human women scream for he found the sounds relaxing. But she had not screamed in fear, she had instead shouted a single word. "Now!"
Sergeant James riding in the center wagon behind Lieutenant Robin pulled down the canvas sides of the wagon to reveal not the bolts of fine dyed wool that was supposed to be in this shipment but rather the eight members of first squad, four kneeling and four standing behind them all with muskets aimed at the approaching wave of kobold. A quick glance forward and back showed the other two squads were likewise prepared for action. With a voice trained on the practice range he gave the order. "Fire!"
From his position in the trees Gnash saw his ambush reversed before his eyes, heard the word 'Fire' shouted, and then listened to the terrible sounds of thunder erupt from the three wagons. Smoke immediately flowed from the caravan obstructing his sight of what had taken place but the barking cries and whines of kobolds in pain, many kobolds, made it evident that a good number had just been wounded or killed by this human deception. Furthermore the troops on his side of the two sided attack were suddenly thrown into a panic hearing the same cries but unsure of whether to continue their charge or to flee. Gnash also paused waiting for the smoke to clear so he could understand better if the odds allowed him to continue the attack or not. He could see the humans had not charged out of their wagons and took that as a good sign until they began to turn and aim at his remaining kobolds.
A fluke gust of wind cleared the smoke enough for Gnash to see the distant portion of his force had been decimated. Many were dead and the rest were lying on the ground wounded or trying to limp to safety back in the trees. He called an immediate retreat but his words were drowned out by the human female's voice.
"Fire again men!" Lieutenant Robin smiled in the excitement of her first battle. There was a rush of excitement in her body that was as powerful as any lover had ever provided her. The men around her obeyed her words without a second thought and another volley of lead flew into the woods and dropped the second set of attackers as well. She stood up and drew her sword. "First and Third Squads to the east, Second Squad follows me."
James watched his new lieutenant it a mix of shock and awe. She performed like an actual officer was supposed to even leading the men from the front. He wondered how much of this was instinctual or if this was the bloodthirstiness of the dark parts of her soul calling to her as well. No time for assessing this now. James jumped off the wagon and with his own men behind him began finishing off those survivors of the first wave who had not been killed outright.
He wore a smile of satisfaction as his men finished off the attackers. With thirty or so of their warriors dead, the kobolds would be unable to mount an attack on the real caravan that was still two days away. Once it had passed the militia would then be free to depart Kasteel Zwarte and return home. He wondered if he would be among those still alive when that order was finally given.
The old woman who answered the door was a bit of surprise to me. It was not so much that there was actually someone in residence at a temple that I had been informed was serviced only by the single, and according to Professor Ofwald's story now deceased, Father. Priests I understood often required aid for such common things as cooking, cleaning, and so forth and many times older village women, widows with grown children mostly, took on these chores willingly. While the pious might proclaim this is because they were so strong in their faith, I simply believed that they had become so used to taking care of others for so long in their life that to offer such services to the leader of the congregation was a comforting way of coming to terms with the life that time had left behind.
No what surprised me at this moment was that this aged woman wore a sense of calm power about herself that I had only experienced in my teacher of all things vampiric. Something about the way she stood, even though her body appeared pained with the normal discomforts of old age, or perhaps it was the sparkle in her eyes told me I had known her like before. I do not wish to suggest she in anyway seemed a danger to me, rather in fact I felt the very opposite. Of course it being both daytime and the fact she seemed more benevolent rather than cold ad evil so not associated with the undead might have had something to do with it.
"May I help you doctor?" I momentarily forgot I had gained some notoriety by my actions two nights past and her addressing me by title at least threw off the explanation of who I was and what I wanted that I had practiced in my mind while I waited for the door to open.
"Yes my goodwife." I replied hoping I was not being insulting by assuming she had been married at one point in her life. "I have come seeking holy water and wafers and am willing to pay fair value if such things can still be acquired after the poor father's demise."
"You may call me Beth." She said and turned away and with her steps obviously expected me to follow. For someone potentially twice my age she showed a confident step that was surprisingly spry. My feelings after yesterday's forced march combined with the expectations of today's jaunt through the woods made me suspect my ability to walk tomorrow would be severely hampered even further. And here was a woman flaunting her age without even seemingly knowing she did so. Once again this sense of confidence struck a chord in me that seemed familiar.
She directed me past the steps toward the cellar and also a rather impressive library by this village's standard to finally enter the main foyer of the temple. Even there I noted surprisingly she did not take a moment to stop and offer a quick benediction before crossing to the altar and specifically to the storage bench that sat behind it.
However my curiosity, a curse to me most times, was tweaked by this action so I felt obliged to ask. "While I am not part of the Erza congregation I have known others of this faith before. Is it not required of you to pause and make a silent prayer upon entering this center of holy faith?" I questioned expecting her to either show annoyance at my inquiry of her faith and actions or embarrassment that she had been caught in a spiritual faux pass. She showed neither though and only turned to regard me with a rather confident smile and sparkling eyes that actually caught me off guard. "I was told that this activity was standard doctrine for you church." I pressed further for my answer.
Her smile widened just a bit as she responded to my inquiry. "While I cannot speak to those who told you such things, I can assure you doctor that MY goddess does not require this action of me simply to enter this room." I felt the subtle touch of humor, as if she were somehow laughing at me with her words, but we reached our destination before I could wrap my mind fully around it and determine what she meant.
She flipped open the bench and displayed to me a half dozen flasks of holy water, held in fired clay containers with wax seals. Based on the nearness of the river and the lack of a local glass blowing facility I understood that this was likely the most convenient source to make such containers, though I feared they would not break as easily as I required if I were forced to use one as a weapon. While trying to splash holy water on an undead servant of evil is often effective, hitting them with a clay pot of such water that does not break tends to only enrage them to seek further bodily harm upon you. Thankfully I still held onto my glass containers from yesterday and I could transfer the contents of these to those without much issue.
"I have coins to cover the costs of these." I offered up the bag I had readied for this, ensuring to shake it to create the distinctive jingle that metal coins make when shook. She however surprisingly waived this offer off. Once again this I found odd for a member of the church of Erza as they were, in my limited experience, usually eager to seek donations and especially compensation for their efforts.
"Will that be all then doctor?" She asked me appearing to have issues of her own to see to, one of which was obviously not playing wet nurse to a middle aged man.
"Yes Mother Beth." I replied offhandedly knowing most women her age had sired one or more children and thinking this reference to her maternal side might bring her a smile of memory. Instead I noted oddly how she jolted slightly at that innocent title. Once again I felt myself unexpectedly on the defensive and stuttered the first thing that came to mind. "I always find when doing battle with evil it is good to be fully prepared."
"Smart boy." She said once more with a confident and almost laughing tone to her voice before pointing me to the door and turning to head off a different direction to pursue her own responsibilities leaving me standing foolishly all alone with that naggingly familiar tone of voice floating in the air. Finally I put the thoughts away for my companions would likely be awaiting my return even now and I did not want to be the last to return.