Claudia, Do'Ravier and Bann-Je all learned under masters and teachers
Sibylla was the only one of them that was self taught
Wielding a great ax takes more than just mere brawn
And swinging a great piece of metal around
Fortunately, Sibylla was a natural at it
You could ask the last person who owned Head Reaper
But Sibylla lost her temper and he lost his head
Claudia continued along as she carefully made her way through the forest. She had no knowledge of where Bann-Je was exactly but she had a feeling he was still close by. Besides, she had worked with him long enough to know that just because you did not see Bann-Je did not mean he was not around. Quite to the contrary, it was when you had almost convinced yourself that he had disappeared that he would show up out of nowhere again.
But that was not what she was worried about. She was more concerned with the disappearing act of this werewolf. If it was a werewolf at all. Claudia could not dismiss that theory but she also could not rule out other possibilities. Right now, she had no evidence for any particular theory. All they had was a chewed up body and...nothing else.
Kneeling down to examine the dirt, Claudia reflected on how it was such a useless exercise at this point. They had wandered far from the original scene of the crime and now they were practically looking for a needle in a haystack. Oblivion, they did not even know what the needle they were looking for looked like.
Claudia felt the wind shift and suddenly noticed a foul smell in the air. She became alarmed, brushing the ends of her amber brown locks out of her eyes. Claudia stood up and looked around. That smell could have meant any number of things but none of them were good. She could tell that something was wrong.
She spotted movement up ahead. A lot of movement.
Too many to take on by herself with just her bow.
Swiftly returning her bow over her shoulder, Claudia turned on her heels and began sprinting. She knew better than to shout or cry out for help. Shouting would only encourage her pursuers and she'd rather keep her breath for running. Furthermore, she knew by now that Bann-Je could not be far off and was already concocting some sort of response. Yes, it was a leap of faith but it was one she was willing to take.
"Claudia!"
The Imperial woman looked over. Spotting movement from a tree further beyond her and to the right, Claudia changed her course towards her direction. She could hear the sound of countless feet thumping behind her and they were getting closer. She could practically hear the panting of lungs hungry for air.
Claudia never got to the tree. Instead, she saw a burst of light fly from the trunk and engulf her. Before she knew it, she was floating off the ground, tumbling higher and higher until she landed on one of the thicker branches. It was rather lacking in grace but she was glad to be off the ground and away from her attackers.
Sure enough, Bann-Je's form materialized from the trunk, showing that he had been camouflaged the whole time.
"What was that?" Claudia breathed, trying to catch her breath.
"It's called a levitation spell. It's really only taught by few mages from Morrowind but it's useful for an assassin."
"Thanks." Claudia puffed before looking down to get her first good glance at the mob that had chased her.
What she saw was not what she had been expecting.
Sibylla was not a woman who was easily frightened. She had fought against enemies severely outnumbered. She had plunged headlong into opponents larger and better equipped than her. As a Vigilant of Stendarr, she had seen nightmares made manifest into physical form and she had prevailed against them. Never once had those monsters stolen a minute of her sleep after the fight.
But this...provided she survived, she was certain she was going to have trouble sleeping after this. If this thing she was staring at had showed itself in broad daylight, yes, it would still be nightmarishly hideous but it would have been treated with morbid curiosity or revulsion. That was where the problem lay. This was not broad daylight surrounded by countless other people. They were in the dark, in a strange place, closed in, stuck in an environment already shrouded with a dark reputation.
If this thing had gone in the broad daylight, it would have trespassed into their world. Instead, they were in its world now. They were trespassing in its little domain. They would now have to play by its rules.
It was still standing in the doorway.
Maybe at one point the figure had been human. Just the faintest hints of its human history remained now. Key features were grotesquely out of proportion or devastated so terribly that they were nearly unrecognizable. A rotted, ratty dress draped a feminine figure whose flesh was the color of dirty smoke, more shadows than substance. Its body, if it could be called that, was emaciated, open sores festering with decay spotted its skin. Cruel traps lined with serrated teeth and fettered with heavy chains acted as a horrific shackle for its feet. One of its hands had a massive, gaping slash right through it, the other hand ended in talons that were ridiculously too long for it.
The face was the worst.
The teeth were hideously out of proportion, rows of long, dagger like fangs several inches long jutted out of the cracked, ruins lips that was its mouth. A disheveled tussle of neglected, rotted hair mercifully covered one of its eyes for its other eye was simply an empty, decayed socket from which as ghostly, faint yellow light glowed.
She was not sure how, but she somehow managed to get words out of her mouth. They came in a frightened squeak, a voice that surprised even herself. Nonetheless, she had to know.
"Do'Ravier...tell me what we're looking at." Sibylla whispered.
She was not happy when she heard a puzzled noise come out of the Khajiit's throat.
"Do'Ravier is going to take a wild stab at it...but this would appear to be a ghost." the Khajiit shrugged.
"I really don't think this is a time to be funny, fur ball." Sibylla growled out of the corner of her mouth. All of them were still staring at the malevolent apparition in front of them.
"Sorry, sorry, Do'Ravier tends to make light of the situation when he's feeling a little spooked. But really, this would probably be the ghost we're looking for." Do'Ravier whispered.
"So...so what do we do?" Alaviera sputtered, feeling her heart galloping in her chest.
The horrific creature was still standing there still as a gravestone in the empty doorway.
"Just wait and follow my lead." Do'Ravier replied.
"You're not doing anything." Sibylla whispered, never once taking her eyes off the ghost.
"That's because all we can do is wait and see. It's angry about something but you must let the ghost speak on its own time. This isn't a bandit to beat information out of and if you do try to be forceful, it will respond in kind, often with a ferocity that will overwhelm you." Do'Ravier explained.
It may have been just a few seconds, it may have been a full minute, either way it felt like a full eternity. No one moved, all stared at the spectre and only one of them truly did not breathe while the other three certainly felt like it.
Suddenly, the creature opened wide the gaping, horrific maw that was its jagged mouth and let out a blood curdling scream. Alaviera drew her sword and Sibylla readied her battle ax but both did nothing, noticing Do'Ravier refusing to move an inch. As soon as the creature had finished letting out its banshee wail, it stormed faster than was naturally possible away from them before the three heard the sound of abnormally heavy footsteps running down the stairs.
"Follow." Do'Ravier commanded, leading them.
Sibylla was not sure how Do'Ravier was able to move his legs so quickly after what they had just witnessed, her own felt like numb stumps of lead that did not want to move. Move she did, following behind the Khajiit as she was ordered but every fiber of her being was screaming for her to turn tail and leave. Even better, they could try to torch this place. Even more astonising was the fact that Alaviera was also following as well. Sibylla would not have minded if the Thalmor had taken off. For once, she sincerely would have understood the Thalmor leaving. This was not Alaviera's responsibility.
The three stood at the top of a descending narrow set of stairs. The temperature of the house had dropped considerably, or was that just simply in their heads? As if reading their minds, Do'Ravier let out a testing breath and they immediately noticed it frost in the air as soon as it left his mouth. The temperature had indeed dropped.
"Interesting. I've never seen that happen before." Do'Ravier observed.
"Don't you think we should call for others to help?" Sibylla asked quietly.
"Twenty spineless or green soldiers and Vigilants would be more dangerous in this situation than three experience and brave specialists. Well, doing a good job pretending to be brave anyway. That spirit made a big show of going down these stairs. I think it wants to show us something." Do'Ravier shrugged.
"That's...I find that hard to believe." Alaviera said through a strained voice.
"For once I agree with her." Sibylla added.
Do'Ravier's reflective eyes hardened in the dim shadows.
"That ghost stood there for a long time and then it screamed at us. What did it do after it screamed?" Do'Ravier asked rhetorically.
"It ran down there. If you would call that running." Alaviera said.
"Yes. All this time that thing should have attacked us. I was certain we were in for it when it screamed but I stayed my paw and it ran down those stairs. Not only do I think it wants to show us something, I'm almost thinking that was a scream for help." Do'Ravier explained.
The Khajiit marched down the stairs and opened the basement door.
Every now and then, you need to take a step back away from the situation at hand and try to find humor in it. In fact, Bann-Je even found time to chuckle at it. Here he was stuck up in a tree with Claudia right next to him. Bann-Je was more focused on the fact that he was stuck up in a tree. This did not happen all that often and he was fairly certain this was a first for him. He figured this would have been more fitting for Do'Ravier. Last time he checked cats had a better perchance for getting caught in this situation.
Honestly, they had been stuck up there an hour. Bann-Je had wanted to leave a long time ago but Claudia had insisted on watching how this would play itself out. The Argonian was certain Claudia was cooking up several theories in her head as they sat and waited but she absolutely refused to let him do anything. He had no choice but to sit and wait. And wait. And continue waiting.
Below them, Claudia was taking in exactly what had hounded them up there. Observing them carefully, Claudia could immediately tell that a rabid, enraged pack of wolves were snarling, snapping, howling and barking at them.
"I think we solved this mystery. They sure don't look like werewolves to me. I thought werewolves only did their thing at night." Bann-Je commented with a shrug.
"I'm not sure, Bann-Je. Something seems...off about them." Claudia murmured thoughtfully.
"Like what?" Bann-Je asked.
"Any normal pack of wolves would have left long ago by now. They've been snarling like that for the past hour. I don't see an alpha male or female, they just seem to be acting in unison. Finally, is it just me or do they seem...sick?" Claudia asked.
Bann-Je gave them another regarding look although he had thoroughly analyzed them awhile ago. Claudia was right. The whole pack seemed to have been operating like a collective where normally an alpha male would have required to maintain order, any alpha male would have been quickly selected in the wilds. Finally, all the wolves seemed to be suffering from something nasty. All of their eyes were bloodshot to the point that they all looked like angry, crimson strawberries. For many of them, patches of fur were missing and what skin they could see was horribly discolored in shades of decay, green, yellow or blue-ish black. Some of them had festering sores erupting for their fur. Bann-Je had originally suspected mangy but he had never seen a case of mangy that looked like this.
"Regardless, they seem way too determined to keep us holed up here. Think its time we put them out of their misery?" Bann-Je offered.
"I think we've observed enough, yes." Claudia nodded, readying her bow.
Bann-Je reached for his belt and produced a small leather flask. Readying it, he retrieved a bandana from his pockets and tied it around his snout so that his nostrils were covered.
"This is a very unique poison. It's only dangerous when inhaled and in large quantities to boot. Nonetheless, stay away from the cloud of spores you may see. Understand?" Bann-Je warned while checking the direction of the wind.
"Got it. I trust you're good handling yourself or do you need me to do anything?" Claudia asked before notching an arrow.
"You know me." Bann-Je replied with a chuckle before his form faded, blending in with the bark of the tree.
Claudia drew the arrow back and took a moment to aim. There were an awful lot of those wolves down there, snarling and yapping. She did not care to aim too much because there was no lacking of targets. Still, she was loathe to waste an arrow.
The bowstring cracked a deadly note. It was immediately answered by a shocked yelp as one wolf found itself pinned to the ground, impaled by an arrow. The rest of the pack went into an angry frenzy but no matter how much they moved, Claudia did not miss as she took carefully aimed shots, perched safely on her branch. Most of the wolves died with an arrow through their midsection though Claudia was not opposed to nailing their heads either if they lingered too long. Claudia's bonemold longbow kept singing its deadly notes and with each plucked chord another wolf died.
A group of wolves found some relative safety directly under Claudia where she found it difficult to aim, much less draw the bow to its full power. For now they were just grateful for the momentary refuge despite the bloodrage and fever ringing in their heads. Only one of them noticed an Argonian face materialize from a branch just directly overhead, a foot out of their reach.
Bann-Je cupped his hands together in front of his mouth and exhaled forcefully. A large cloud of olive green powder erupted from his hands. Most of the wolves had already inhaled a small whiff of it as it began to settle on them. Each one that did died gagging and choking as Bann-Je brushed off any excess powder from his hands.
They had been stuck up the tree for over an hour but in the space of five minutes less than half of the wolf pack remained and the survivors were already high tailing it away from them. The two waited a moment to make sure they were truly gone but in no time Claudia was already carefully navigating her way down the trunk of the tree. Bann-Je simply somersaulted off his branch and landed gracefully on the ground.
"What is the plan?" Bann-Je asked.
"Can I trust you to be safe working on your own against a pack and who knows what else?" Claudia inquired as she came to a safe landing next to the base of the tree.
"I have worked in more dangerous conditions. I can keep myself in the shadows even in broad daylight." Bann-Je replied confidently.
"Don't make me regret this then. I need you to track down that wolf pack. It's not much of a lead but its the only lead we have in this whole mess. Track them, see where they go. However, regardless of what you find I want you back at Northpoint by tomorrow afternoon to give your report on what you think. If you linger any longer, well, I'll be forced to go look for you. I should return and update the others on what we've found. Understand?" Claudia ordered.
"I understand clearly." Bann-Je nodded.
Claudia watched in bemusement as Bann-Je circled the tree three times before disappearing into the foliage after the remainder of the wolf pack.
Do'Ravier opened the door of the basement and entered a realm of nightmares. Even the Khajiit, who was doing his best to remain calm and in control, had to admit that as frightening as events had been upstairs, they were nothing compared to what the three of them were seeing here in the basement.
Starting from the threshold of the door, they could see a grotesque, thick trail of smeared blood that ended in a particular spot on the basement floor. Branching off from the blood trail, strange letters and bizarre scripts wrote themselves as if by an invisible hand on the ground. Ghostly chains made of thorny bones covered in rotting flesh grew, hung and then disappeared from the ceiling. Skeletal bones grasped, writhed and clawed as they grew out from the floor. Alaviera shrieked when she saw one grab at her boot but felt no pressure.
Sibylla was too speechless with fright to take the opportunity to berate her.
The shadows seemed to swirl around them and Do'Ravier felt that it seemed unnaturally dark down there. The mage cupped a swirling mass of lightning and fire in his hands, trying to provide some light but then a mass of shadows started to cloud around his paws. It was then that the Khajiit understood that whatever was the intentions of this ghost, it wanted things dark. Do'Ravier realized he did not have much of a choice anymore. It was one that he was not looking forward to enacting.
"I don't understand. If you are looking for peace, you will need to show yourself, make things clearer, spectre." Do'Ravier called.
Everything in the room suddenly became still as the grave. The skeletal hands stopped moving, the bone chains no longer rattled, even the blood on the floor seemed to freeze in place. What little light they had seemed to become bluer, not darker, bluer. Do'Ravier, as well as Sibylla and Alaviera, immediately regretted what had just transpired. They did not know why they felt it was a turn for the worst but they had little reason to think it was going to get better.
The spot where the blood trail ended seemed to grow darker as a circular pattern of frost began to materialize on its surface. An unearthly, inhumane wail began to scream within the basement walls despite no apparent source being around. No longer willing to feel that she was helpless, Alaviera lit two balls of fire from her hands, ready to cast them at a moment's notice.
They were immediately snuffed out by an invisible force.
"I hate this." Alaviera said remorsefully.
From the frozen spot on the floor, the shade they had seen with its hideous, grotesque face began to rise. Eerily emerging from the floor, the malevolent spirit let out a bone chilling, ear splitting shriek at them that did not budge.
"Do'Ravier, I think it's time we did something!" Sibylla shouted over the noise.
"Draw your weapons if you wish, but do nothing." the Khajiit instructed.
Sibylla suddenly found Head Reaper becoming hideously heavy, its weight seemingly increasing until it was heavier than any anvil.
"I...I can't-"
Sibylla clawed at the ax as it apparently dove to the floor of its own accord. No sooner did it hit the ground with a resounding clang did the frozen, skeletal hands clutch tightly around its shaft. Sibylla had a feeling she would not be retrieving it.
Alaviera had similar problems. Her sword had frozen over, stuck within its own scabbard.
"We have to turn back, our weapons are useless and we can't use our spells!" Alaviera cried.
Do'Ravier ignored both of them as well as his spear which suffered the same fate as Sibylla's great ax. Instead, he walked headlong until he was kneeling at the feet of the ghost despite it still screaming and wailing. Sibylla and Alaviera did nothing, not finding it within themselves to move. Using the taloned gauntlets his paws were encased in, Do'Ravier began to scrape and dig away at the sandy floor of the basement.
He did not have to go far before he hit a rotted cloth...and a real, skeletal hand underneath it.
"You were murdered weren't you? You wanted justice, even in death where you could not find it in life." Do'Ravier asked, starting to look up at the shade.
And suddenly, the wailing and screeching stop. The skeletal hands on the floor started to dim and fade and the frost started to melt. Sibylla was able to pry her ax off the floor before immediately voicing her question.
"How did you know?" the Nord asked breathlessly.
"We spent so much time gawking at the victim, it was harder to see the real monster who was much larger." Do'Ravier murmured as he continued to sweep the dust away from the makeshift grave.
The Khajiit pointed to the far wall further behind him and the quickly fading image of the now quiet shade. Fixed, as if being a murky still image, the shadows on the wall held two figures. A smaller, feminine figure cowered helplessly before a larger, more sinister one that brandished a terrible looking dagger.
A few minutes later Couran and Jaspier were overseeing more of the Northpoint Vigilants as they exhumed the body from the basement. Do'Ravier, Sibylla and Alaviera were taking a much needed breath in the setting sun. They had only been in the house for a few hours but it had felt like an eternity.
"Everyone knew that the last man in this house was not the best type but we all assumed his wife had just run off. It's what he told us. Foolishness. Foolishness." Couran grumbled angrily to himself.
"Did the wife tell anyone anything before she died?" Do'Ravier asked.
"I don't know. I guess not. She was not from around here, a foriegn, shy woman who kept to herself." Couran lamented.
"So, the man who died from fright in this house? Was he the killer?" Do'Ravier asked bluntly.
"Had to be. If only we had paid better attention, we could have brought him to justice." Couran grumbled.
"Asking 'what if' and saying 'if only' is one of the surest roads to self imprisoned torment." Do'Ravier reminded.
"Oh, I don't know. I think the man found justice in a way. That poor woman living her last few years in fear and torment under him. It's only fitting that her ghost do the same to him before he died." Sibylla smirked.
"I suppose..." Couran murmured.
"Have Bann-Je and Claudia returned?" Sibylla asked, sipping from a tankard of mead that she bought from the tavern.
"Yes, Claudia has returned but she's resting at the temple. You'll want to ask her about their day's adventure. It's not that much different from yours." Couran nodded.
In the woods around Northpoint, the shadow that was Bann-Je tracked the pawprints left by the diseased wolf pack. They showed no signs of natural behavior, ignoring game animals nor following any understandable travel pattern. After a while the Argonian realized he was tracking them in a circle. Climbing further up the tree he had perched in to survey the land, Bann-Je started to wonder if this was going to be a dead end. Sure, it was not everyday that you ran into a pack of diseased, angry wolves but Bann-Je had to admit there were odder things in the world. Besides, a pack of malicious, fevered wolves was not the same as a werewolf, if it was even a werewolf they were in fact searching for.
Climbing higher, the discouraged assassin furrowed his brows for a moment before he suddenly smiled. He started to think he had found their next lead in their investigation. There, not several miles off from where these wolves prowled were the forgotten ruins of an old castle.
Just the perfect kind of hide out for the things that liked to go bump in the night.