Fate - First Reply A Quick Errand

[Leor Mearanth]

Leor directed his eyes to the sky to get a sense of how late in the day it was. He quickly scoffed, realizing it was completely overcast. He really has been away a long time if he thought it would ever be sunny in this gods forsaken island. His foot tapped at an even pace, waiting for just about anyone to show. He had put up a notice in the square that he was in need of a Mourner escort in order to collect something lost in the border towns. There was a gold reward, of course, he had plenty. The notice in question had instructions to meet him here by Parumora's third ward.

Next to him stood a spectral set of plate armor, filled with wispy black smoke. It stood next to him, unmoving, seemingly waiting for some sort of instruction. The red haired man, even at his respectable height of 6 feet, looked small in comparison to the armor that towered almost a foot above him. He hoped whoever turned in the notice would arrive soon. Normally his Automourners would be enough to escort him, but he found himself...short...at the moment. He just had this one, which very well might not be enough on its own if the border towns are particularly active today.

Leor continued tap, tap, tapping his foot, waiting for whatever poor sod that decided to take him up on his offer.

 

[Decanian Atresius]

Parumora was even more depressing than he thought. He had hoped that the little sanctuary would shine compared to the dark horrors of Phorasmos but the truth was that the sky, perpetually overcast, made the whole island a uniform, motionless desolate land.
He cursed once again the storm that had forced his ship to dock in those surroundings. Once he had completed his research on the western coast of Malakath he thought he had finished his work and was already looking forward to a few days of rest. But apparently the gods had other plans and his ship almost crashed on the rocks of the small island.

As if that wasn't enough, he had also run out of the little money the College had provided him. Now, in his misfortune, he thanked fate for offering him a paid job thanks to which he could leave. He had been retrieving relics for the school library for years so he wouldn't be long in adapting.

Brooding over his fate, he finally arrived in front of the author of the notice. Distinctly dressed, he carried a staff on his back, very similar to his. He had a red beard and hair and two piercing green eyes. The spectral plate armor beside him unmistakably qualified him as one of the many spiritsmiths who populate Parumora. An interesting and cryptic job whose nuances Decanian still struggled to catch.

He bowed his head respectfully to the man in front of him.

"Greetings to you" - he began. "I'm here for the notice."

 

[Leor Mearanth]

The spiritsmith saw something strange approach from the distance. A young man dressed in white. To say that was strange here would be an understatement, and Leor immediately clocked that the man wasn't from here. Probably came in on a ship and found himself stranded for lack of funds or friends. Leor wasn't surprised when he announced he was here for the notice. Anyone but a mourner would be useless, and Leor prepared to dismiss him outright, but taking a second look at those bright white robes stayed his tongue.

"An Outsider..." Leor arched his brow in thought "By your garb, you appear to be a cleric of sorts, correct? Or some type of wizard, maybe? Tell me, can you dispel spirits, and efficiently?

If this outsider could dispel revenants, then he might be better for his situation than any mourner. If a local were to help him out, then rumours might spread quickly. He was prepared for that, but to avoid it would be a worthy risk.

 

[Decanian Atresius]

Since the first moment, Decanian had felt the man's sharp, searching gaze on him. He knew that first impressions would be crucial, especially in such an isolated and particular place where he believed - rightly - that outsiders were held in low regard. At least when it came to their ability to survive among the horrors of the island. The man's words had confirmed his suppositions and he was glad that his robe had had the right effect. In a place populated by spirits and ferocious monsters, a cleric could be useful to anyone.

"My name is Decanian Atresius" - he said, introducing himself, looking the interlocutor in the eyes. "I have been an expert healer and squire of the Knights of Anathaeum for years. As a follower of the Trinity of Light, my duties include cleansing graveyards, dissolving curses and fighting creatures of the Dark."

Trying to show confidence, he then answered the question: "I can cast spells with my hands and with my staff, spells that can neutralize the arcane energy of most ethereal creatures. Furthermore" - he concluded - "I can summon wards that can counteract any medium-level magical attack for a limited time."

He had listed his references and what he usually does and had stated his abilities as a fighter and healer quite exhaustively. He tried to read a feeling in the man's face but the green of his eyes was impenetrable. He therefore limited himself to waiting for the response of the interlocutor, hoping that luck would finally smile on him.

 

[Leor Mearanth]

A Knight of Anathaeum squire? He would certainly have a good sense of honor then. Leor stared at the young one for a while, looking him up and down, deep in thought.

"Alright then. It's unlikely we will deal with any revenants in large numbers, so you will do."

The older man dug into his bag, producing a bag of gold coins.

"Half now, half when the job is finished. If you find yourself out of your depth feel free to return and you may keep that half. That shall not get you much more than passage out of here, however."

If he was truthful about his skills, he should be well equipped enough to handle where they were headed. They would be far enough away from Obelus that the number of spirits they would encountered would be low enough. He began walking, then stopped, having forgot his manners.

"Oh, that's right. I am Leor Mearanth." Having finished introductions, he resumed his walk forward, with his Automourner guard following close behind.
"We must move quickly. It is a half day's walk from here and we are already starting late. Don't worry about food, I have packed enough for two. Now tell me, what do you know about our little island?"

He would have to be subtle when they retrieved what he needed, but it seemed as if things might go smoothly. Leor just hoped this follower of the Trinity would not be too boring at least.

 

[Decanian Atresius]

Decanian did not expect half the payment to be upfront. When Leor handed him the bag of coins and had the opportunity to appreciate its weight, he thought that perhaps not all the inhabitants of Parumora were so unfriendly towards strangers. As the jingling purse slipped into his satchel he realized that maybe it was simply a habit of the wealthy for ensuring the collaboration of the mercenaries. Whatever the case, he was satisfied: the man didn't seem intent on betraying him and he liked the way he left immediately after hiring him, without wasting time. Just like him, that man also was in a hurry.

He shook himself and quickened his pace to stand next to Leor. His companion walked quickly, straight towards his goal, with a light of great determination in his eyes. Despite the dangers that lay ahead of them, Decanian smiled because Leor gave the idea of being the ideal teammate to embark on an adventure with. He appeared brave but not reckless and seemed to have the skills and knowledge necessary to get by in almost any situation.

"Concerning Phorasmos" - he replied, looking at the desolate nature around them - "I know little more than what is learned in books. A wild and hostile nature and ferocious ghosts that consume every human life that ventures into their territory".

He remembered the history lessons he had attended in his early adolescence. "Phorasmos was once home to a powerful and rich civilization, expert in the use of magic. From the pinnacles of Obelus" - he continued, looking on the horizon for the ruins of the ancient city, visible from almost every part of the island - "its priests have sought to use the arcane arts to bend the cycle of life and death. And have thus plunged the kingdom into an oblivion of horror, a curse so intense that I can physically feel it."

He stopped for a moment, staring at his companion. "I know that Parumora is home to the spiritsmiths" - he continued, glancing at the disturbing bodyguard floating behind them. "You are one of them, right?"

 

[Leor Mearanth]

"Educated indeed, aren't you? You recounted our history quite accurately, but it seems you don't have much knowledge of our current threat. Revenants, the spirits that snuff out life and reproduce their own are common, but Aberrants are what we're dealing with. They have a variety of motivations and methods, so start to be on your toes as we go further."

"I am a spiritsmith, of a sorts." Leor gestured to the spectral set of armor following them. "I am crafting the future of Phorasmos, making mourners without the sacrifice of human lives. Automourners."

The two walked on through the scorched wasteland, every once in a while Leor would pick up a small chunk of rubble and examine it closely before moving on. He strode on in silence along with the clanking of his ghostly bodyguard.

"So," Leor broke the silence suddenly, "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

 

[Decanian Atresius]

Decanian pulled his hood over his head trying to protect himself from an increasingly cold and sharp wind. The air penetrated his bones. The clouds crowded together, fast and overbearing, threatening a storm and casting a gray light on the two travellers.

The mage was surprised by the stranger's question: perhaps no one had been interested in his story for years. It had definitely been months since anyone had asked him about his life. In fact, he rarely made new acquaintances, working mostly alone or together with trusted companions and colleagues.

"I am a healer originally from Alliria" - he finally said. "Several years ago I was admitted to the College of Elbion and have been studying the arcane arts in those halls ever since."
Hoping not to sound boring, he continued by telling how he became the archivist of the academy library and the service he provided in the Healing Halls of the city.

He heard a croak at the side of the road and turned. A splash in the tall grass indicated the presence of a pond. Despite the unpleasant odor, hearing an animal's sound made the environment less depressing. For an instant even a pale sun peeked through the clouds, giving a brief vision of a different, vital Phorasmos.

"Furthermore" - he continued - "as I told you I joined the Knights of Anathaeum. I share their ideals and their code of honor and I accompany them as a healer. I have some experience with magical creatures and I hope that I can be of use to you."

He looked curiously at the floating armor filled with black smoke. He wondered what kind of magic animated it.

"Does your bodyguard" - he asked, pointing to it - "live on magic or some kind of technology? Or perhaps a mixture of both?"

 

[Leor Mearanth]

The Spiritsmith listened passively, taking in what information he could from both the environment and his companion. He could tell all the same that this man was not one to talk about himself. Leor enjoyed hearing people's stories, there were so many in the world after all. Leor chuckled to himself.

"You truly are from the college. You explain your life's story as if you're writing it in a biography." He kept his smile, not meaning to be mocking. "The Knights of Anatheum. I've met a few of them while traveling. It's a noble cause you've aligned yourself with."

Leor continued on, catching Decanian focused on his "bodyguard".

"Ah, magic of course, although "live" isn't the word I would use, it simply acts. I haven't yet found any sort of mechanism that could replicate automated humanoid movement. The only technology would be the craftsmanship that has gone into the armor itself."

Their walk eventually took the pair to their destination some time in the afternoon. A large estate, what looked to be a farm complete with a manor atop a hill. The farmhouses and fields before them were scattered with about a half dozen Revenants. Leor allowed the automourner to go in front, and produced his dagger with a simple anti-spirit enchantment on it.

A few of the things noticed their little group and released an agonized shriek before rushing towards them.

"Be warned, their very touch will stop your heart in an instant. Time to show your worth, squire Atresius."

 

[Decanian Atresius]

Decanian had smiled gratefully at Leor's comment. "You explain your life's story as if you're writing it in a biography" was a great compliment for a man of letters. Until now he had only written a few essays on the history of the College but observations like that of his companion were an encouragement to him to continue on that path. He had listened carefully to the explanations on the functioning of the ghostly creature that followed Leor and although its functioning from a technical point of view was still obscure to him, he was deeply fascinated by it.

Chatting affably with his companion, the time passed quickly. Although the light remained the same dull white as in the morning, it was now afternoon. At a certain point the wizard looked up at the leaden sky and realized he had reached a ruined estate. The owner must have been wealthy: his manor towered from the top of the hill above a number of crumbling-looking wooden buildings. Stables, barns and workshops presented themselves to the new arrivals with splintered boards, disturbing creaks and dark voids instead of windows.

In the still air the mage saw ghosts with terrifying features floating between the buildings and in the middle of the fields overgrown with weeds. Revenants. The skeletal arms and the fleshless rib cage were nothing compared to the jaws bristling with sharp teeth and above all the eyes of an unhealthy phosphorescent green. As Leor's automaton advanced before them, the spiritsmith warned him: the simple touch of one of those creatures meant certain death.

It was his first time dealing with this enemy but he could assume that the anti-spectre tactics he usually used might work. There were six monsters. A good number but not enough that you can't control them. Seeing them, the ghosts let out horrible screams and rushed at them, stretching out their bony hands and opening their jaws in a bestial grin.

As the automourner advanced fearlessly towards the creatures, Decanian spread his arms and began to mutter a formula in the elven language, ancient words with an arcane sound. Under their feet a large golden circle appeared, about three meters in diameter, adorned with perpetually moving runes. Seen from above it looked like a glittering gold coin on a gray carpet.

"As long as we stay here" - shouted the scholar trying to drown out the screams of the ghosts now very close - "the Revenants won't be able to get closer. But it won't last long so they must be eliminated quickly".

Aware that light was the mortal enemy of the cursed creatures, Decanian pointed his staff at the nearest Revenant, now a few meters from the circle. The top of the weapon shone like a small star, then a long, deadly golden snake shot out from the luminous bulb and exploded in the monster's chest. His death cry was one of the worst noises the College mage had ever heard.

 

[Leor Mearanth]

The cessation of one more Revenant was music to Leor's ears. The terms were clear and their elimination must be swift. Leor wasted no time with words, simply driving his dagger into the "heart" of one of the things. He felt an incredible chill being so close to it, even with the barrier separating them.
"Stay within the circle while you dispatch them." He told his Automourner. It did so, staying inside while using it's longer blade to make short work of the remaining four that clawed at the invisible border of the ward. Once silence fell on them, the spirit smith stepped from the circle and began his walk towards the Manor on the hill.

"Good work, young mage. Let's continue on, but stay vigilant."

The pair moved past the broken, destroyed buildings all the way to the locked front gate. He pointed towards the rusting chain that his bodyguard broke without effort. They continued their way up the hill towards the imposing building. It consisted of a large central building around 4 floors high, a smaller side building for servants and such, as well as a stable nearby. Even the bones of the horses had returned to the earth. There was almost no life left save for the grass beneath their feet.

They approached the door, and Leor turned as he placed his hand on the doorknob.

"Stick together as we explore, and make me aware if you spot anything unusual. Specifically apparitions or the like, although I don't anticipate any Revenants in here."

Leor opened the door and walked inside. He entered the large Foyer, kicking up dust as he made his way inside. The room was opulent but dulled with time. A gold chandelier hung above them, and portraits of the owners through the years remained hung on the peeling wallpaper. The faces of which seemed to be purposefully scrubbed out. To the North lay the grand staircase with it's dull gold banisters. It seemed to lead to the second floor. It had two doors to the left and right of it, both on the north wall. The East wall had one door while the West wall had two. Silence permeated the house, and it seemed quite empty of any love that might have remained long ago.

 

[Decanian Atresius]

Decanian was astonished by the devastating power of Leor's device. Under the protection of the magical barrier he had conjured, the machine had managed to eliminate no less than four wraiths with little effort. The revenants were ferocious and deadly enemies and apparently the inhabitants of the island had found a way to stem this danger. The healer didn't yet know if Leor's machine was similar to the others or special in some way, but seeing it in action was a breathtaking sight.

Once the ghosts were neutralized, the environment was silent and still again. Even the protective circle evaporated in a sigh, leaving only a faint smell of ozone as a memory. They quickly passed by white patches of luminescent sewage, the only physical remnant of the revenants, and headed towards the manor at the top of the knoll.

The mage reacted with a smile and a hint of a bow to Leor's compliment and watched in admiration as the bodyguard's unstoppable march through the ruined defenses of the estate. The central building had the appearance of a fallen nobleman: friezes and ornaments denoted a refined architectural taste but decades - if not centuries - of abandonment and infestation by ghosts had made it nothing more than an empty and dusty ruin .

"Sure" - Decanian replied to Leor. "Should I notice or perceive anything I will notify you immediately."

The sensation that hit him once he entered was unpleasant. The outside was bleak and cold but at least the tall tufts of grass, green and soft, meant life. The interior of the building, by contrast, was deader than a crypt. The mage was immediately hit by a hostile vibration. Something in that house didn't want them. A cursed soul? Or maybe the house itself? The portraits of the owners, a chilling detail, had their faces erased. Everything suggested that a curse loomed over that building.

"At the moment I only perceive that we are not popular here but nothing more specific" - he said turning to Leor. “We can proceed, I will stay alert.”