[GoG] Chapter One: A Festive Funeral (Cont'd)

[Dreamshell]

With the introduction of new charms, Victoria is able to protect or release many of the guests and townsfolk from the effects of the volatile ghosts, who recoil uncontrollably from the magical items. She eventually runs into and passes on a handful of the jewelry to Addler, who follows her example with his own vampiric agility.

It isn't long before all the borrowed trinkets have been divvied up, a considerable number of people yet vulnerable. Mathilda Malthus, grabbing a star-shaped talisman and an old broom, leaves the safety of her apothecary behind and instructs Locke to follow. She begins calling over the injured and unprotected, telling them they can find refuge inside. This nervous-looking minority slowly separates from the larger crowd in a thin procession towards the apothecary, some running, some limping and some supporting or carrying those who can’t travel on their own.

Unfortunately, this leaves them exposed and the recently-expelled specters swarming free above them take advantage, swooping down to bowl over or repossess whomever they can. The line splinters into chaos as these wretches are set upon their neighbors once more and people push, shove and trample over one another to reach shelter. Mathilda curses, recognizing her mistake, and quickly urges some of the people nearby wearing charms to shield their defenseless fellows. Charging this lot and some of the more composed to supervise the rest, Mathilda looks again to Locke.

“Make haste, Lucius!” she says, “And tell those friends of yours to keep up the fight. I’ve a spell to banish these damned shades, but I need time and if these people are hurt or scattered my plan will go to pot!”

A moment later, Locke watches as his former mentor straddles her broom and suddenly takes to the air, almost faster than can been seen. With a voice amplified louder than she alone can carry it, Mathilda directs the crowd, now made up solely of those wearing enchantments, to form the shape of the Arcane Church's chief symbol. Quickly but carefully they follow her instruction, some of the more magically knowledgeable guessing at what she has in mind. As they organize themselves, some notice the ghosts retreating a bit, growing even more unruly as they do. Before long, the enchanted collectively form the Eye of Night, a vesica piscis enveloped by a five-pointed star.

Mathilda hovers above them in the space where an iris might be, raising her talisman up high. Its eye slowly brightens to a dim, shimmering white and before long, the charms worn by those assembled below her light up, too.

“Hold together, now!” she shouts. “Don’t rattle, don’t run! Don’t let them break the Eye!”

She then starts reciting an incantation in the magical tongue that dates back to early Andarth. Below, Locke hurries to gather the others, save Petrov and Tyndareus who have disappeared into the forest, and conveys Mathilda’s orders.

The ghosts now haunt the air and the fringes of the village. No longer able to maim the living directly, they begin turning Impskis upside-down. In a great phantasmal tantrum, they take to shattering windows, slamming doors in chorus, upending stalls and carts and hurling anything in their reach as projectiles towards the Eye. Some of the more audacious apparitions approach the holy symbol, using their natural ability to terrify the people comprising it by twisting themselves into gruesome shapes and turning their voices into gutteral taunts, growls and barks. The few possessed they still have mock the friends and families of their hosts.

Others amuse themselves likewise with livestock, who are riled up enough to burst out of their stables in a panicky stampede. Elsewhere, torches are lifted out of their sconces by an invisible and seemingly omnipresent menace and begin to set fire to whatever straw, cloth or other combustibles are in reach, including the banner declaring Sir Percy’s funeral. Meanwhile, the wailing from before has resumed to near-deafening levels.

~ ~ ~

Elsewhere, Petrov and Tyndareus have joined together in their pursuit. They dash madly into the forest of Old Impskis, others intent on catching up to the fleeing ghost summoner at their heels. These would-be comrades are unfortunately soon claimed as hosts by some wandering phantoms, however, who then turn from the woods with peculiar haste, fear visible on the faces of the men whose bodies they borrow.

The dwarf and the minotaur manage to put some distance between them and the village and they move surreptitiously through the wood’s derelict depths like seasoned huntsmen tracking skittish quarry. It is not easy; the minotaur’s Chariot Greaves jounce with every rock or root or dent in the uneven ground and fallen leaves continually mat his wheels, while the thorns of low-lying shrubs graze the dwarf’s exposed skin and burrs stick to his clothes and beard.

The deeper they go, the more uncanny their surroundings seem to become. They see impressions like hateful faces form in the trunks of trees, their branches turning into grasping talons. A breeze picks up and leaves flutter so that the forest itself begins to sigh and whisper and cackle and howl. Fleetingly, both adventurers think they hear a voice on the wind familiar to each of them alone and calling their names. Dark figures appear in the corners of their eyes, only to disappear upon closer scrutiny. The size of the forest and even the passage of time loses constancy as if in some bad dream. In the hearts of Tyndareus and Petrov, sparks of fear turn to wild fire, burning trust and courage away like kindling.

Up ahead, the pair catch sight of a shape that does not vanish when confronted directly. Its height is difficult to gauge, but its outline suggests a slender young man. Perhaps, they think, this is the one responsible for the chaos back in the village. Struggling to overcome disquiet and delusion, they run towards the figure. Alerted by their approach, it seems to turn and look their way before bolting.

The dwarf and minotaur scramble after as best they can, heading even further into the forest until they begin to notice a break in the trees. They come upon a clearing, markedly beginning near a spring of freshwater emerging from some subterranean river. Here, several crude stone houses sit on the banks of a babbling brook and in the shadows of nearby trees in various states of disrepair. This is quite clearly the site of Old Impskis and it stuns the pair to realize that not so long ago the villagers were living very similarly. They don’t have much time to dawdle, however, because they soon see the slender figure again, making its way towards an ugly, half-crumbled watermill nearby.

Cautious once more, they shadow the mysterious runner and steal up on the mill. It is one of the few buildings still standing in the area with wood as the chief part of its construction, the pieces of which are rotted and covered in moss; it wouldn’t take much to make the place finish collapsing in on itself. The door is much the same, if still intact, and looks curiously overgrown and undisturbed despite being the only way in to their fugitive’s hideaway.

Their doubts about its occupation are ended abruptly when they catch the sound of voices inside. Eager to get their man, Petrov and Tyndareus jointly bust down the door and enter the mill. Yet they do not find the blond man from earlier, but four children.

An adolescent boy, the oldest, is tall and seems to be the figure they saw in the woods. A girl, slightly younger, holds a swaddled babe in her arms. Finally, a much younger girl holds onto her sister’s skirt, trying to hide. They stare back at the dwarf and minotaur and, after the initial shock of finding them, the two intruders grimly realize that they can see straight through each child.

(Sorry I took so long, everybody. This post isn’t really worth the wait in and of itself, but I realized that finally restarting the game took precedence over endlessly scrutinizing and refining my writing. New players should work themselves in as best they can and catch their PCs up ideally by talking with the other PCs, or me if necessary.)  

[Jokerman-EXE]

Addler distributed the charms with due haste - not out of a sense of duty, or wanting to protect anyone around him (for indeed, he had no real reason to want to protect anyone here) - but because he reveled in the challenge of trying to outpace the specters and avoid the chaos that was beginning to rule the town around him.

When they started to form into the Eye, Addler took a place near the outside, mostly so that his view of the rampaging ghosts would be unimpeded while the townspeople set up their defenses. He stayed stolidly in place, watching the ghosts and not stirring at all when the talismans began to light up. He only seemed to be aware of the people around him when the ghosts started to throw projectiles at the group: with his superior reflexes and strength, Addler smashed two wagon wheels and an empty barrel out of the air before they could reach the Eye, thus preventing his area of the circle from being broken.

Addler looked up to see what Mathilda was doing. How he could remain so apparently composed was almost comical in the face of so much action and madness.

And now he's bored.

Hmm, but if he left the circle, what would happen? The villagers would probably all be possessed or killed, and then it would be too dangerous for Addler to remain in this town. And he hadn't finished paying respects to Sir Cubbard. No, the circle must remain unbroken, which meant that Addler needed someone to take his place. A quick look around revealed that there was no one who could do it: they already all wore amulets, and most of them were either crying or cowering.

There! Across the street, Addler could see a little girl, running from one of the possessed farmers. And she had no amulet, perfect!

Addler broke from the formation, moving as quickly as he could - which was quite fast. The light behind him wavered when he was halfway into the street; the magic would fail if he wasn't fast, but luckily the little girl was only on the other side of the road, and was running towards him. Two more long strides and Addler had a foot on the shoulder of the road; he was alongside the little girl now, his right arm extending straight out; he clotheslined the pursuing possessed, with a satisfying hurk! and crack that was probably - maybe - hopefully - not fatal; Addler spun on his heel.

Now he was behind this little girl, who was only beginning to process that she had been saved. The light from the circle was dimming steadily, though, the formation broken, so Addler had to act fast. He took the amulet from around his own neck, put it around that of the little girl, then lifted her up and threw her across the street, calling out as he did. One of the men looked up and managed to catch her, while one of the crying women let out a great cry and took the little girl, crying, "My daughter! You saved my daughter!" with great jubilation.

Addler, though, was already on the move, boredom creeping up again. He didn't care whose daughter it was. Besides, he had only needed someone to take his place in the circle so that he could have fun. The ghosts were continuing to hurl debris at the Eye, and Addler was having quite a time trying to beat them by smashing the mostly-wooden items out of the air. This would content him for some time.  

[javeharron]

Locke glares past the spectral illusions on the other side of his protective ward. He saw a gruesome image of a ghost becoming a skeletal figure with dangling guts crawling on all fours like a beast. He sees a man with his eyes where his mouth should be. He notices a wailing woman with maggots and worms crawling out of her face and hands. He forces himself to remember they are all illusions, and tries to focus on other things. Through the mass of ghosts is a corridor of floating lights, torches lifted up by the angry phantoms, setting fire to anything remotely flammable.

He recognizes the sounds of panicking animals, and observes a cloud of dust coming up a nearby street. A herd of cattle are being driven towards the assembled people. Behind them, spectral tormentors goad the animals into the village square. Leading them is a bull, with horns like sharpened spears. Locke kneels down, loads an alchemical tranquilizer dart, and aligns his rifle at the charging animal. He draws a bead between its eyes, exhales gently, and pulls the trigger. The bull's head snaps back, but momentum carries the body forward until it crumbles into an unconscious heap on the ground. Several cows follow behind the bull, ignoring the gunshot and not breaking.

As he fumbles with the weapon, he turns to the others.

"Hey!" he shouts. "A stampede's heading towards the villagers! I'll try to stop them!"

Searching for ideas, Locke recalls a simple spell from his time in the wilderness, a mantra and sigil used to calm animals. It worked on dire wolves and hungry bears, so it should work on panicking bovines. He draws a sigil into the dirt with his rifle barrel, and begins chanting as loud as he can. The animals that pace over it will be calmed, but it would only work for a few animals. He plans to draw as many sigils in the ground as he can, and put as many wards between him and the villagers as possible. Of all the types of savage and often unnatural things he remembers, Locke never imagines that he might to be facing death by a herd of common cattle.  

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

Protecting was perhaps Sylvia's sole skill, so when the call was made for defenders, she immediately rose to the task. Possessed individuals were shoved and thrown about to clear paths to the Eye. She refused amulets, requiring no additional protection; improvised projectiles merely splintered against her form and fell to the way side. With each blow, however, her clothing was torn, shining more twilight on that which she wished to hide.

Someone gave tell of a stampede plowing its way toward the Eye. With a spin, she centered the voice in her sights and sprinted that way. The cows were easy enough to find and engage from there. The diamond golem dashed headlong past Locke, lowering her body and cocking her arms into grappling position. She met a cow head on, and the conflicting momentum deadlocked the two. Sylvia hoisted the cow off its front hooves and tossed it onto its side. The beast fell with a fearful mooing.

In the time it took to tackle one beast, others had passed her. This was not the way to solve the problem. Perhaps she could redirect them, then. It was unlikely, but worth a shot. She was off at a sprint yet again, elbowing cattle in the ribs as she passed them on her way to the front. The Crystal Warden's desire was to divert them to the right of their current path. Most beasts- men included- feared pain. She only hoped it would be fear enough to guide them away from the people. Otherwise she had just invested herself entirely to the murder of the innocents.  

[Isa-sama]

Where the evening had been hellish with ghosts and chaos, the day had been hellish for more personal reasons.

Amelia had left earlier that day to go to the funeral of Sir Cubbard. It wasn't the first time she'd heard of him, but it certainly would be the first and last time she'd ever see him. Her mother, Katherine Devlin, had received a personal invitation to the man's funeral, and it was at that moment that everything had changed between mother and child.

"Amelia...I need you to sit down," Katherine mumbled from her chair at the table. This worried Amelia greatly. Her mother rarely used her true name unless she was truly angry or there was something serious to talk about. Seeing as her mother wasn't yelling, Amelia was wondering what could make her mother look so lost and sad. "Mother? What's wrong?" "Just...please, sit down."

Amelia sat in an adjacent chair and waited for her mother to speak. "Is it about grandmama and grandpapa?" Her mother shook her head while she played with the letter in her hands. "Mother, what's--" "It's about--" Both women nervously laughed when they interrupted each other. "Millie, my darling...did you know that Sir Cubbard and I knew each other?" Amelia tilted her head. "Really? I'm not sure I believe you. Adventuring were never your thing," she stated. It was true, Katherine absolutely detested adventures or exploration - her mother was a woman who enjoyed the stable, cozy life as a merchant. "It's true. I knew him quite a number of years ago. He was such a kind man...and very charming. His optimism was infectious. I never knew another man like him..." Amelia waited for her mother to continue. The younger of the two knew exactly who Sir Cubbard was - a famous explorer with a heart of gold - but what did any of that have to do with her mother?

"He and I had some grand debates. And it was our debates and his charm that eventually led to love. We loved each other very very much. Unfortunately, we had a falling out," Katherine's voice wobbled at the end. "I was ready to marry and have children," her mouth twisted into a frown. "He was not. I needed a man who would be there for his family, and he'd rather go to the farthest corner of the earth just to see what was there. We departed on amicable terms." Katherine's shoulders were shaking and tears were starting to form in her eyes. Amelia moved as if to go comfort her mother, but she was frozen in place when her mother said, "that was when I found out I was pregnant with you."

Amelia drank in everything her mother had to say about Sir Cubbard. Her father. After all these years of not knowing who her father was, Amelia finally learned the truth. For a split second, Amelia despised her mother. Why would her mother keep this from her? Why not let her go and see Sir Cubbard while he had been alive?

Katherine had provided reasons to her daughter, but the hurt and anguish had kept Amelia from seeing reason. Any chance of bonding with her father had died along with the man.

So she went to the funeral. It was the most she would ever get to seeing him in person. The funeral had been lovely, and Heliabel Cubbard (her aunt!) gave a wonderful speech. Soon though, everything changed.

A scream about a debt, and then there was panic and chaos everywhere. Ghosts took to possessing the guests, and Amelia was one of the unlucky people who never got a charm. One of the specters headed straight for her, and she subconsciously raised her right arm to block the oncoming ghost. What happened next was perhaps the oddest, yet most miraculous thing to ever happen to her yet.

The ghost could not possess her.

The spirit had bounced off the arm she raised to protect herself. It ran off and for some reason, none of the other ghosts would go anywhere near her. She looked at her arm to see what might have made it run away, and she saw a part of the ancient brace from underneath her coat. "Haha! Whoever said cursed objects couldn't be useful?!" Her brief moment of cheer was interrupted when she heard someone direct a group of charmed people into forming the shape of an Eye. The voice had told them to stay put and not scatter, but it seemed difficult with the ghosts trying to wreak havoc on the environment.

With a smirk, she started to go after the ghosts that were trying to break the Eye. She raised her arm and held it in front of her to chase off the ghosts. Sometimes a great defense could still be used offensively. She had a magical shield with her, didn't she? Amelia might as well try and use that shield to push back the attacking ghosts.  

[SirBayer]

Petrov is considerably surprised, and more than a little nervous. The last few ghosts he encountered tried to destroy his mind. These, however, appear more afraid of him than he of they. (Of course he's not terribly afraid; what he did once to ghosts he can do again, he imagines.) They've run pretty deep, Petrov realizes, and he's not sure of the way back, which makes this feel a tad like the hook to a bad Thungrian bedtime story. Luckily, Petrov wasn't actually alone, and that was a confidence booster in and of itself.

This mill, this building they've broken into, it looks old. The ghosts here aren't new. They must've died some time ago, then. Unfortunate, really; they all seemed too young for death. Had sickness taken them? There's no indication of a war here, the building stands unmarked aside from the marks of time. What happened here? And where did the blonde man get to? And why hasn't he already asked them?

"Pardon us," Petrov begins, then pauses. Most people do not break down a door and then ask forgiveness. Petrov isn't most people. It would certainly be nice to say this was the first time. "We were looking for a man. Tall, thin, blonde hair, probably holding a bone. Not terribly nice. Did you happen to hear or see him come through here?" Best to just treat the ghosts like they're alive, Petrov thinks. If they know they're dead, he'll seem polite; if they don't, he won't be trying to break that illusion, which will not end well, he imagines.  

[NativeForeigner]

Victoria slips the last charm in her possession around Barney's neck to protect him and assesses the situation to try to figure out how she can continue to help. There is nothing she can hope to do about the stampede - even with her vampiric strength she still has the body of a young girl; the beasts would crush her if she got in their way. She knows someone that might be able to handle the animals, however. Without any charms she can't help with the remaining possessed without exposing her true nature, so that is certainly out of the question. Though Vyncent certainly can help. That just leaves the fire. The fire she can help with.

Victoria scans through the chaos trying to find Lord Scarface. She spots him not too far away and, after calling Vyncent to follow her, runs towards him, waving her hand in the air trying to get his attention. "Mr. Scarface! Mr. Scarface!" she yells, trying to be heard over the deafening wail, "You should help the others with the animals while my father" she looks pointedly at Vyncent, "handles the crazy people." with a nod, Vyncent runs off towards the possessed. "You're big and strong. You can do it, right? You don't have to hurt the animals bad. They're just scared."

Victoria clutches Barney to her chest and bounces from foot to foot as she waits for Scarface to answer. The fire can't wait long.

***

Vyncent races towards the possessed against his own will. If he still had a will of his own he would be back at his castle, blissfully ignorant of Cubbard's funeral. But he's here, fighting a fight that he wants no part of. All because that damned little girl tricked him - caused him to lose his will and then replaced it with her own. If he had known that the sweet little girl whose family he killed would some day turn the tables he would have never turned her! Alas, that was ages ago. Now his will is her will. He is Vyncent Colburn, Count Ashwood of Hearthstone only in name now. He is only a thrall - a tool to be used. And currently this tool is being used against the possessed.

Vyncent spots a possessed merchant who is coming up behind a woman helping form the eye. He grasps the man's back and pulls him to the ground. A swift kick to the jaw quickly knocks him out. Several other possessed individuals take notice and move in on Vyncent, attacking with clumsy strikes and grasping wildly. With his vampiric agility he is able to weave in and out of their attacks and strike before they have the chance to recover. Before long he subdues the group and begins to patrol the perimeter of the eye, taking care of any possessed who get too close.  

[Isa-sama]

Amelia ran with her arm over her head feeling a bit silly. Yes, she was doing her part to prevent the ghosts from attacking the people but it still felt odd just running towards ghosts with an arm over her head.

In her running, she saw a young girl with a stuffed animal looking incredibly anxious. "Oi!" She started running towards the young girl and held her cursed arm out defensively. "Where are your parents?" The girl must have gotten separated from them in the midst of the chaos. Amelia put her non-enchanted hand on the girl's shoulder and said, "we need to get you out of harm's way. Little girl like you will get trampled."  

[NativeForeigner]

Victoria fails to actually notice Amelia until she places her hand on her shoulder. She flinches away from the touch and quickly turns around, thinking that a possessed person had come up behind her. Victoria relaxes when she realizes that the woman is not possessed and is about to introduce herself when the woman suggests taking her out of harm's way. She gasps, hides most of her face behind Barney, and shakes her head furiously.

"No! I have to help!" She pleads, "But don't worry. I'll keep safe, I promise. Besides, I'm just going to the fire." She points at the fire spreading through town. "You should help me stop it before it burns everything down! Please?" Victoria lowers Barney to her chest and looks anxiously at the fire, biting her own lip.  

[Isa-sama]

Amelia frowned slightly at the girl in front of her. "You're too young, dearie, and this is too dangerous." She looked around for a safe place for the child to hide. "You need to stay safe and hidden. Let me worry about the fire, alright?" She tried to smile but worry was clouding her eyes. The wails were getting to her as well as the chaos surrounding them.  

[NativeForeigner]

"They're going to ruin Cubby's funeral!" Victoria pouts and looks at the ground in thought. There is no way she's going to let this woman keep her from helping. After a moment she stops pouting and looks up at Amelia with a determined look. "If you promise to stop the fire right away I promise to stay by you and away from the fire. But I wanna help, I'll carry buckets." Victoria's eyes widen and a smiles creeps to her lips as she realizes a possible way to convince Amelia to let her follow her. She bounces on the balls on her feet as she speaks. "Plus it would be way safer with you anyways! There are big animals over there and the ghosts will find me and Barney..." Victoria holds Barney out to Amelia as a way of introducing him. "no matter where we go! But if I stay with you, you can keep me safe from the ghosts! I'll be super careful, I promise!"  

[Isa-sama]

The first words Victoria said created a pang in Amelia's heart. A young girl knew Sir Cubbard by a nickname. Cubby. She rapidly forced those emotions away because this was certainly not the time to be emotional.

It somewhat annoyed her that the child was being stubborn, but Amelia had been the same (more likely worse) when she'd been that age. Amelia nodded and stated, "Fine, but stay right by my side and listen to me when I tell you to do something. I can't protect you if you don't listen to me, alright? Now take my hand and we'll run towards the mess over there," she pointed at the fire. She held out her hand for the child to grab. "Hopefully people will have already started trying to put it out." Amelia didn't even worry about getting buckets for water. It was likely that there were others who were attempting to deal with the fire and would appreciate the ladies' help. If no one was there yet, then they'd deal with finding buckets and water themselves.  

[NativeForeigner]

Victoria smiles a small smile, happy to be able to help even if it's not how she would prefer. At least this way she is still able to help without worrying about revealing her vampiric nature. "Thank you, miss. I promise to be super careful and do whatever you tell me to." Victoria tucks Barney under one arm and grabs Amelia's hand with the other. She stumbles slightly as Amelia immediately starts to run for the fire but quickly regains her balance. She's careful to not exceed Amelia's speed and to stay slightly behind her - as should be expected from a little girl being pulled along by an elder. As they run Victoria decides to introduce herself. "My name is Victoria, by the way. What's your name?" She says.