Private Tales Guillotine, Part II

[Jane]

(Poor's Neighbourhood by Lemonushka)​

Spoiler: A little somethin' about Guillotine.

The quaint town known "affectionately," and only, as Guillotine. Nestled square in the center of the track of forest and grassland east of the Bystra River and south of the Wda and west of the Spine.

Sordid past, Guillotine had. Throughout history, a number of cruel and unusual torture devices and brutally efficient contraptions of execution had originated from here--one such contraption bearing the name of the town itself. Not that the people who lived there were all that more wicked or virtuous (go on, have yerself a laugh) from any other townsfolk living in any other town across Arethil; somehow, by some sly threading of fate, Guillotine just happened to be the place of a number of morbid inspirations throughout the decades.

What Guillotine was known for, aside from this messy history of invention, was the number of lords the town went through. The town had long ago "sorted out" any nobility from living there; perhaps, in an Age gone and passed, Guillotine was a more orderly place, with a more structured social hierarchy. Now it was a town of rough, hardy, sardonic, fiercely individualistic folk who with wry smirks bestowed the title of "Lord" upon whomever among them they elected to "lead" them. Yet, miraculously, there was always someone willing to try. Sometimes they knew their place as merely a figurehead, the person to whom actual nobles from neighboring towns or abroad palavered with and other such inconsequential matters. Sometimes they knew this and abdicated "power" when their fellow townsfolk told 'em to and went back to plowing their fields or digging in the amethyst mine or working at the lumber mill.

Sometimes they were like "Lord" Greyfell, a salty bastard if there ever was one. A rolling mess of a man who couldn't damn well take a joke or hold his ale. And ol' Greyfell had himself a fall (maybe even a "gray"fall, heh) when he made a deal with a demon, the succubus Hyatta, for more power. Demons invaded the town as part of the deal he made with the demon.

Well. There was a saying in Guillotine: "Keep yer sword, keep it close." Everybody in Guillotine was armed. Everybody. Mothers would beat their sons if they hadn't touched a wooden practice sword by the time he was as tall as her waist, and they'd beat their daughters twice as hard. There were no guards in Guillotine, because everybody was a guard. Justice was communal, if'n you want to put it politely.

So Greyfell got himself killed, the invasion was beaten back, and that damned succubus was banished (or so most everyone thought...)

Now though, almost a year later, Guillotine's got some new problems.

And it ain't demons this time. Apparently.

WHAP.

The crack of the cat o' nine tails whip against flesh.

WHAP.

And another fresh lashing across Jane's back. Joining all the others, the rivulets of blood running down her back and merging with separate rivulets and some going far enough to roll over the curve of her rump and to drip down to the floor.

Guillotine didn't have a proper inn. But what it did have was quite a few "vacated" houses, thanks to the demonic invasion not so long ago. In one of these and upon the floor of the quiet main room Jane sat on her heels, her armor removed and her sword and shield set aside. She had her arming dress off, her arming pants down to her knees--she didn't really feel like having to clean up blood from either. Every once in a while? Oh there was something delicious about it, probably the only good thing that came out of these sessions of self-flagellation. But not every night. And so far since arriving back in Guillotine to visit, Jane had needed to flagellate herself every damn night.

WHAP.

Sure, Jane had an immense capacity for faith that had been subverted to serve the causes of Celestialism by the Redeemer. Sure, she hated the masochists and couldn't understand why they'd actually love pain, and therefore endured these sessions of self-flagellation only by slim "necessity" to expiate her sins and seek forgiveness from Astra. But these whippings also charged the divine powers bestowed upon her, the powers she used to fight her Favored Enemies. And that was fantastic, fighting them, her Favored Enemies. Because it was the one good thing about this whole deal with Astra and Celestialism: that Jane got to constantly be in contact with demons, practitioners of and things tainted by dark magic, the spawn/followers of the Dark Ones...

WHAP.

...and the undead. The dreary, boring, smelly, undead. They were by far the worst of her four Favored Enemies. Seriously, what was wrong with necromancers? The undead were just no fun to be around by their very nature--they were like a bunch of groggy assholes woken up in the middle of damn good nap and all they could think about was having a snack. They lacked a certain...flair that Jane adored. The same flair that had instantly converted Jane to a devotee of the Dark Ones once she encountered the Sisters of the Citadel.

WHAP.

But here they were. The undead, those bleak fucks, causing problems in and around Guillotine, every damn night. Guillotine, going somewhat hand-in-hand with its sordid history of invention, had a number of graveyards in the surrounding lands, and there were plenty of fresh graves there thanks to that previous invasion of demons. Clearly there was some necromancer prick out there fucking with the town, but so far he'd evaded being sighted.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jane paused in her self-flagellation. Heard George--friend of hers from last time--on the other side of the home's front door. "Gettin' ready to head out again tonight, Jane. Comin'?"

"Yeah. I'm coming. I just need a minute."

There was a pause. "What in the hell are you doin' in there, anyway?"

Not one to mince words, George. Jane smirked, then replied, "Showing my devotion." And in that one statement there was so much truth and falsity wrapped up together.

"Well praise that cunt Astra faster, we got a job to do."

"Sun's about to set, so get yer ass movin'." That was Dirty Dave, the proprietor of one of Guillotine's two taverns. The other tavern? Owned by that bitch Ymir down the street, and she could go fuck herself--such was Dave's ever vigilant opinion of his business rival.

Jane set the whip down and reached for the stained cloth beside her. Wiped at her back to clean off the blood. She could already feel the wounds themselves closing slowly, the "gift" of the Seal of Nykios.

"Coming, boys," she said as she stood and pulled up her pants and started to get ready.

* * * * *​

Jane, armed and armored, made her way to the Fountain in Town Square (Ahh...wasn't it lovely when Hyatta and her demons changed it to be a fountain of blood?). She met with the other ad hoc undead slayers.

Not a whole lot tonight. In addition to small, constant, and pesky waves of the undead every night, there had been an illness spreading around Guillotine. Made people bedridden with coughs, sneezes, and a fever. Real shame, that. Jane actually did wish she could cure the sicknesses of the townsfolk. Why? Because some sickness shouldn't be causing them pain--she should be causing them pain. That's how she felt about it on a deep and base level, even if Astra complicated her indulgences into sadism.

Who did they have here?

George--with a near dwarven beard and balding head, who worked at the Lumbermill before it was burned down by that Infernal Imp. Dirty Dave, who'd earned himself an eyepatch during the demonic invasion and who claimed to have the best mead in all of Guillotine. Ymir, with the auburn hair and the Norden accent who also claimed to have the best mead in all of Guillotine. Old Man Hatry, who was spry enough for a man in his sixties and who still carried his sword around everywhere like a true Guillotiner. And Blacksmith Telford, a man whose chest was as thick as a tree and arms as bristling with muscle as an orc's--he never missed a meal.

"This it?" Jane asked. They'd come down from about thirty or forty folks at the beginning to this small lot of six now. Then again, the waves of undead had become smaller and smaller too. Maybe people were just saying fuck it, let that paladin bitch handle it, I'm gonna get some sleep for once.

Old Man Hatry shrugged. "Seems so."

Jane gave a sigh for effect. Twirled her free hand. Said, "More for us then. What a tragedy." Then she smirked. "Drinks are on you tonight, right Dave?"

"Hell no." Quick on the response, Dave was. "You want handouts, talk to Ymir."

"Fuck you, Dave."

"Hey Ymir," George said, "can I have some of the best damn mead in Guillotine?"

"Sure thing, George," said Ymir.

"Fuck you, George," said Dave.

"Hey," Blacksmith Telford said, giving a nod across the Town Square. He'd seen someone.

"Got another coming," Jane said. "How about that."

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

Feast of flesh served with souls.

Mother's way of describing these jobs was always so hedonistic and macabre. The guise of a crow truly fit her, as sad as that was for crows.

Another plague had broken out. This one in a most unfortunate town: Guillotine. A town infamous for their execution devices. Didn't he stop by and watch one of them used on a local lord once decades ago? Perhaps. All the towns and cities had long since blurred together in his memory.

If rumors were to be believed, the town suffered from a different disaster but a year before. Something about cultists and demons. A claim often made by these out of way places to explain away things and people they didn't understand. As if anyone would be reckless enough to worship such foolish beings....

Caw!

Asa returned to the present. Idly wandered into his destination it seemed. Common enough of an event. Not as if he had anything to fear from mortals and the mundane. The crow resting on his shoulder was eyeing a group of locals in the square with great interest. Lovely. He preferred it when she was disinterested in what he was doing and bored. One of the reasons he was still so fond of locking himself in an alchemy lab for days after all these years.

The doctor walked up to the group. Cane ticking. A self confident swagger in each step.

"Greetings. Am I in Guillotine?" Asa asked as his beaked mask moved from one individual to the next. "I hear they are in desperate need of a doctor."

Jane

 

[Jane]

Wasn't a Guillotiner, that was for sure, as the man whose face was hidden behind glasses, a hat, and a beaked mask came up to them--even before the question he'd asked revealed as much.

"Yeah, you're in Guillotine. Welcome and all that," Dave said.

"Such as it is right now," Blacksmith Telford said, crossing his arms at the sad state of his hometown.

"A doctor, huh," Jane said. "Do you cure undead people from being undead? By shoving a sword into their face? Because we could use a doctor like that right now."

"Well hold up there, Jane," George said. "Still got plenty o' folks bedridden around the town with that sickness."

"Yeah, 'cause they been drinkin' Dirty Dave's dirty mead," said Old Man Hatry.

Dave shot him a cross look. "And fuck you too, Old Man, I'll break your kneecaps." And Hatry let out a long, raspy laugh and doubled over as he swung his arm in a victorious, got him, fashion. Ymir, naturally, beamed and gave Hatry a supportive pat on the back.

"Fact is," said Blacksmith Telford to the newcomer, trying to get back on track, "we don't know what's causing it, doctor."

"Or if that sickness is related to the undead in some way," George said. "Reckon it can't be a coincidence though."

"Speaking of which," Jane said to the doctor, with a flick of her eyes up toward the evening sky, "you wouldn't have happened to see any undead on your way in, did you?"

Wouldn't it just be nice to have a night off? Granted, it was still pretty early, since whatever or whoever was causing the dead to rise up from the surrounding graveyards liked to wait until it was nice and dark. Wishful thinking most certainly.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

One by one the group made their witty little remarks. Why did these village people always feel the need to have their banter such dire circumstances and the likely key to solving their problem isn't getting the information he needs? Probably that subhundred year life expectancy. They didn't have time to learn how inefficient and damning it could be.

The bustiest of their numbers, a likely knight, asked if he could fight undead. His answer to her was simply to fold back the part of his garb from his hip that had been covering his saber. Hopefully she was satisfied with that as the group did not give him time to verbally respond.

Then the burliest of their group did the smart thing and started to explain the situation. A follow up spoke of the sickness and the undead possibly being related. Very likely were. Rare for the dead to be disturbed and disease not to follow. All sort of things were buried with in the body that can't escape until the death of the host and the rotting of the flesh.

The busty one asked another question and finally the group had gone silent long enough for him to speak himself.

"None my dear. But it is just now getting to the time of their usual rising yes?" Asa spoke to Jane. His attention then went to the two men with the most sense in the group. "In my experience with death, disease, and the living dead it is highly likely for there to be a correlation between the two events yes. Often disease trails behind the walking dead. Be this intentional or not is to be seen."

The doctor looked over the group once more with a critical eye. For a militia they were surprisingly competent looking, but none aside from the female knight seemed to be have extensive enough experience to justify their minimum numbers. Something to be corrected.

Asa looked up to the sky and judged that the time should be closing that was the typical rising hour for most undead events he had experienced. As his gaze came back down it settled on Jane. She seemed to be the likely leader of this group.

"Would you care for some company on this nightly stroll my dear?"

Jane

 

[Jane]

The doctor brushed aside his coat from his hip and there was the sword in question, ready to be shoved into the faces of some ghouls and zombies. Jane grinned in response. Well call this doctor an honorary Guillotiner, he had his sword and he kept it close.

Things came around to her asking if he'd seen any undead yet, and he hadn't. But that didn't really mean shit. The doctor himself said it: it was just now getting to the time of their usual rising, and the undead weren't really morning people (in a manner of speaking) now were they?

"I would care for some company," Jane said. And she took a step toward the doctor and bopped his arm with a plated fist. "You look like you got a few tricks up your sleeve."

"What makes you think that?" Old Man Hatry said in a more of a facetious tone than anything. And then others joined in.

"Is it the hat and the glasses?" said Ymir.

"Good coin's on them scrolls," said George.

"Man's got a cane my father'd call a 'discipline stick,'" said Dave.

Hatry, riding the wave of his own frivolity, offered, "He's got magic in them bottles, I'm tellin' ya."

"Alright, enough," Blacksmith Telford said, even if he would be glad if the doctor had some magical talent about him--that'd at least make Jane and the doctor with such among them. "We ought to get moving."

"Right," said George. "Same as before. Make our rounds about the five graveyards and keep on it until we spot somethin' strange or someone in town hollers. Strategy ain't broke so we ain't fixin' it."

George started out, and the others filed in behind him. Jane stayed to the rear with the doctor. She hadn't joined in on the round of playful suggestions about the doctor's potential tricks, not before Blacksmith Telford had stepped in and squashed the moment, but if she'd entered an observation it'd be the crow on his shoulder. Man had a well-trained bird, what could she say. Well-trained or something else--Old Man Hatry could be on to something with that guess about magic.

Anyway, magical or mundane, he was a doctor and could heal people's wounds and so that was...ohhhh, so intriguing. What if she just so happened to have a little accident while fighting these zombies and, oh you know, whoops, cut your neck there George, whoops, sliced your stomach there Dave, whoops, stabbed your thigh there Telford. These things happened in the heat of battle.

"So. Doctor. You got a name?" she asked as they walked from the Town Square. Adding after a second, "And a face behind that mask?"

Heh. For all she knew, the crow put him up to wearing that mask. For avian solidarity for something. But enough of Hatry's frivolity already.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

The busty one took his offer with the addition of a little love tap. Certainly not a refined lady, but that was for the best. Refined people tended to get boring rather quickly. Only so much smug superiority and staunch traditionalism that one could stand before finding the whole process an utter bore. He had been around for the start of many such traditions and they were always started over petty things or for the most hilarious of reasons. One would not think that however the way the posh treated it all.

The group began to banter and joke about his attire. Rather common event. Most had the good fortune of never running into a plague doctor. They were free to speculate as they pleased. A little mystery to keep their morale high and ease the stress of their minds. The one called Dave (he believed) and the one called an old man were rather spot on. His cane was used for discipline. Between unfocused students and idiotic bandits he had swatted some discipline and sense into a good few people with it. And some of his bottles were magically charged due to the ingredients used to craft their liquid contents.

Asa found himself walking in the back of the group with the, upon much closer inspection, rather curvy woman. She made her inquires and he was feeling a bit playful for once. Seemed the general mood of the group was influencing him already.

"Why yes I do have a name. A rather lovely one at that. How about yourself dear?" Asa said with a playful twist to his words. "As for my face...."

He popped the mask off and tilted his head so she could get a good view of it for a moment before he put the mask back on. Once back into place comfortably he continued on. "Certainly not as lovely as your own. But that would be a near impossibility no?"

The crow on his shoulder observed Jane very closely. For a moment a second and perhaps even third eye seemed to blink open then back closed.

Caw.

"Hmm?"

Caw.

"Seems she agrees. Beautiful and curvy. I'm most fortunate this night to share such rare company."

Jane

 

[Jane]

Through the homely streets of Guillotine they were going. Seemed a lot like a ghost town, what with the diminished population from the demonic invasion even more diminished by a good number of folks struck with a sickness that kept them firmly stuck in their homes and wheezing on their beds. The town wasn't completely abandoned, there were a few others available to be seen up this way or down that way going about their business (business which most likely involved caring for loved ones), but Guillotine had a much more sleepy feel to it now than before.

Jane's armor gave that familiar (and annoying) clank and clatter as she walked. Her heeled sabatons (real funny, Redeemer, real funny) clicking smartly on the scattered cobblestones which comprised the streets.

Kept his name to himself, the doctor did. Alright, fair enough. She'd just have to come up with one for him--wait until a catchy one presented itself.

In the meantime, her own name, which she had no reservation about sharing. "Jane. Just Jane. No last name. Never got one and don't need one." Served her well enough. It was one of the generic names given to taken slave children in Cerak, and she was the only Jane who worked for the Eunuch. There was another Jane for a little while, but after a certain crocodile incident, that Jane was gone and only one remained, and she was Queen Bitch. Ask the Eunuch. Oh wait, you can't.

The doctor did briefly take off his mask, and Jane had to glance up to see. He was human underneath. Eyepatch, dark hair, his one good eye was the orangey color of tree sap. She wouldn't mind raking her nails across that face, but that was something Astra generally frowned on and something that earned her lashings on the tally. The tally which was clean right now, but--given that she had to recharge her divine abilities every night because of these undead--that didn't mean much. So, in a way, she could afford to swear and have little spots of fun and it wasn't much of a big deal right now, since she had to goddamn whip herself anyway. Add one to the tally for that curse.

The mask went back on, and the doctor had a compliment for her. And a smirk edged its way across her expression as she glanced sidelong to him. "You're right. Impossible because I just kill everybody who does have a face as gorgeous as mine."

Click, clack, went her heeled sabatons as she walked and let a moment pass. "I'm kidding. I don't care about shit like that." A nice, punctuated pause. "There's far better reasons to kill people."

And a whole lot of reasons not to kill people, as a matter of fact. Also add another one on the tally.

They walked, the five Guillotiners ahead of them having their own light conversations as they went. The crow cawed then. You know, as birds are wont to do. But the doctor responded to it with a hmm. Had to be to the crow, given the timing. And, well, apparently it was. The doctor said the crow, uh, agreed. Beautiful and curvy, sure, but how the fuck did he figure that?

"Don't bullshit me. Are you talking with a bird?" Jane asked bluntly, a mild amusement in her tone. Immortal hells, maybe her frivolous guess was right. X marks the spot, as the pirates infesting the Black Bay often said of fabled treasure maps, and it wasn't so often that she hit the X spot on.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

A pleasant bit of small talk was taking place with the busty one. Her name was Jane it seemed and from the emphasis on it only being Jane there was likely a reason for it. The more inclined to flights of fancy would like conjure up some tale of how she was a noble's daughter fleeing from an arranged marriage to some bastard of a man or how she was being hunted by an evil usurper or other such nonsense. In his experience it was most likely she had no surname and was use to having to explain this to nobles and wealthy merchants.

Next was comments about killing anyone more gorgeous than herself followed up by it being a joke and having better reasons to kill. She was correct about that. There were much better reasons to kill someone. Such as removing a tyrant from his throne to shut up his mother's endless nagging for flesh and blood and souls to feast upon.

The conversation between him and his mother caught the attention of Jane. A remark about them talking came up and he realized he had a bit of a mishap there. So hard to remember she was just a bird in front of mortals and he should treat her as such, even if she didn't behave that way.

A smile crossed his lips under his mask. Surely the woman wouldn't mind a bit more teasing.

"Perhaps I was. Or perhaps I was not. Perhaps I was after an excuse to compliment your irresistible beauty once more." Asa said in a playful tone. He tapped her backside with the end of his cane for emphasis.

"It would be rude of me to not name myself after you have any further. You may call me Master Asa Renwyk. Or Doctor Asa Renwyk. Or Professor Asa Renwyk. When you work from the college in Elbion they tend to give you a rather lengthy list of titles." Asa said to her as he twirled about his free hand differently with each new title he listed.

"Not one to care for titles though so you are free to call me whatever you wish my dear."

Jane

 

[Jane]

This bullshitter--also add two more to the tally. Heh, but wouldn't it be something though? If she and the other five Guillotiners had actually put money up to Hatry's frivolousness and made bets? Wouldn't it be something if all of them were somehow wrong, with the doctor's tricks being tied to nothing mentioned? Well they were due to find out once they all came across this night's fresh wave of undead. Even if he was just another swordarm--albeit one with a head full of doctor knowledge and all that--it'd be good enough.

The cane clanked against the rear of her armor, and she felt the light vibration through the metal. Her eyebrows perked for a second. Then a smirk spread across her face. Ohhhh...myyyy...was he inviting in some trouble or what? Astra frowned heavily on her particular predilections but, as Jane had come to find out through some subtle trial and error, she could go as far as someone let her. If she tried to force herself and her tastes on someone, the blinding, thought-wiping memory of the Redeemer's Light would intrude and ruin her fun. But if they consented? A little bit here, a little more there, let's go a touch further now, well, Astra may or may not frown at that but nothing happened. She had found all this out with a few choice encounters, particularly with Nate and the stubbly-faced leader of that ill-fated adventuring party. The former let her in, the latter didn't. And the Redeemer's Light, its purging of offending thoughts and desires and the immediate memories thereof, wasn't as...complete as he surely wanted.

He gave his name. And all the titles, one of which to Jane sounding like he owned slaves--rare, but not unheard of for Mainlanders.

"Alright, Ren. Works for me. I don't care for titles either." Heh, she didn't even know what the fuck a professor was. And add another to the tally.

Then she abruptly stepped out in front of him. Bracing with her back foot in preparation for Asa to bump into her like she wanted, but it'd be well enough if he had the reflexes to stop in time.

"And you've got yourself a wandering cane there, Ren." She raised her chin and half-closed her eyes, and she spoke in a lowered voice as if sharing a conspiratorial secret whose veracity she was absolutely certain of. "If you're spending the night, you're spending it with me."

She reached up with her shieldless hand, plated fingers curved like claws. Reached toward his mask.

And didn't touch him. Just faced about with a twist on her heels as if nothing happened and started walking again, lagging just a bit further behind the five Guillotiners due to the short pause. She talked casually again, saying, "Sure would be a shame if you got wounded tonight, huh?"

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

Things were going well in the back between the doctor and the knight. She seemed to be a rare spirit for those in her line of work. Most were so caught up in their titles and perceived superiority that they became painfully dull either from seriousness or thinking themselves better than they actually were. But not this woman. She carried herself as if she belonged here and the same as everyone else. Only encouraged him more and kept the more pragmatic side of him at bay.... If for now.

When she moved in front of him, Asa could have stopped himself. He had the time and the reflexes to do so. But he preferred to keep their little game going for now. So he bumped into her in just the way she wanted him to.

A light chuckle echoed behind his mask at all that she had to say to him. "Jane, I can assure you that my cane goes exactly where I wish it to be. And I would be delighted to spend the night with you. Be rather rude to turn down the offer of such a beauty."

Then came that little comment about him being wounded. A brow was raised behind the mask. First the mention of killing and now the mention of him being wounded? He was starting to believe she had a rather interesting taste. This busty knight was proving to be more unique than he anticipated.

Caw.

Asa looked at the bird. She hopped from one shoulder over to the other in a rather annoyed fashion.

Caw.

And then the bird took off into the air. She made a couple of lazy circles around them then flew off out of sight. The doctor just shook his head then turned his attention back to Jane.

"Melodramatic isn't she?"

Jane

 

[Jane]

...And I would be delighted to spend the night with you...

Good. She wasn't a local of Guillotine, but how about a little hospitality for the man who might just be what said locals--particularly those ailing away in their beds--needed right now? And, well, flogging could actually be a bit fun with a partner. That and other things. These Guillotiners were her friends, but none had really shared her company in closed quarters. George was a married man and stuck to that, Blacksmith Telford was always busy, Hatry was too old, Ymir Jane had no interest in whatsoever (not her nor any other woman, frankly). Dave, initially interested, backed out gracefully after Jane started playing around with his dagger. And the little (little!) cut she had made on his arm. He didn't really like her finger probing into it.

The bird flew away, and Jane only noticed because of the sound of flapping wings. Only a brief glance up, head forward again, then a glance to Asa when he commented on it.

"Hm. Birds will be birds," Jane said. She couldn't say if he was talking to that crow or not, but, eh, if he didn't want to tell that was his business. What was she going to do, bite it out of him?

Jane walked. They were all approaching the perimeter of the town, the end of the loosely cobbled streets and one of the dirt roads leading away from Guillotine were ahead.

Bite it out of him. That wasn't a half bad idea. Keep that one in mind.

"Here's some good news, Ren," Jane said, with look of someone actually about to deliver good news. No witty remark or sarcasm or the like. "At first it was pretty busy, you could say, with those undead zombies and ghouls rising up from their graves and shambling toward town. But, night after night, it's gotten less and less. Maybe the asshole behind this or the unnatural fuckery of magic behind this--whichever--is running slim. On bodies, on power, what have you. Still. Good for us."

Jane raised her arms up (as far as she could, anyway, with her damn pauldrons on) and stretched high to sky, her back arching and her chest swelling. Then she relaxed. Kept her stride.

"Means we shouldn't have to be up all night dealing with this mess." Her eyes danced around, weighing her fortunes. "Probably."

There were, after all, better things she could be doing with her time. But she ceased that train of thought before it could spark a reset. Like a good little girl should. Right, Astra?

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

This female knight was becoming more and more curious as he interacted with her. Certainly the flirting was also partially his fault as he was going tick to tack with her on it. But it was the way she sort of felt restrained with her advances. A comment here. An action there. Like a sudden spark it would soar then immediately fade out. Was something preventing her from fully committing like most who initiated such activities would? Or was she just a naturally restrained person at the limits of holding back their own desires?

The man didn't thing too long on it. Jane was sharing what was going on with him. The topic was focused on the roaming dead, as it naturally would be given they were technically patrolling the area. The whole event was odd to him however. Most necromancers behaved differently that what was described. They would either throw every body they had at a town to wipe it out all at once or they would be very reserved with expending their stock of corpses. A single ghoul here. A couple of zombies there. Just enough to get disease spreading and the death count to slowly rise. They would wish to avoid attracting too much attention to themselves before they were ready.

This plagued town wasn't experiencing such events. So what could be it?

"Has the town ever experienced events of the dead rising before or is this entirely unique? Any known cases of darker magics being at play? Perhaps an event that could leave lingering energies behind in the soil?"

The woman was no scholar, at least as far as he was aware, so likely would not have answers to his questions. Honestly unfair of him to even ask them of her. What he would need to do is speak with the local elders and history keepers. The cure was not always proper medicine and treatment of the sick after all. Most commonly it was, but not always.

"This is a rather curious case. Not typical from my knowledge of the undead and necromancers."

Jane

 

[Jane]

Asa had a few questions. Heh, Jane wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, if some shit like this had happened in the past. The undead thing, not the demon thing. That she knew about. Heh, all these catastrophic disasters happening. Guillotine was like a dog that just kept getting its ass kicked, but somehow stayed in the fight. There was a reason after all why Jane loved the place and loved the people.

"Let me see." Then she called forward to the head of their column. "Hey! George! You know if Guillotine ever had problems with the undead before?"

George glanced back over his shoulder, some of the last bits of fading evening light over his other. "Never has. Not in my lifetime nor my father's, rest his drunk ass soul."

Seemed like quite the liberal use of an answer as supposedly definite as "Never has" just measuring by two overlapping lifetimes ago, but, hell, wasn't like Guillotine was all that keen on keeping details records. Maybe some other town or city in the region or some historian somewhere may have documented a previous event of this sort, but a good answer was unlikely to be forthcoming in Guillotine itself.

Now that third question? That was something Jane could answer. Probably also answered in a tangential way the second question as well.

"An event that could leave lingering energies behind," Jane grinned wide. "Sailor, you don't know the half of it. Guillotine had a full demonic invasion almost a year ago."

Ahhhh...and wasn't it great? The mayhem, the carnage, fighting against the demons and basking in their infernal presence. Oh of course she had to slay them. Of course naturally. Just doing her duty for Astra. Absolutely. The Goddess's servant upon Arethil doing righteous deeds that the Redeemer himself would be proud of. That was certainly and most definitely the only reason why she sounded so fondly reminiscent of that time. Because she got to do her holy work and for no other reason whatsoever. Praise Astra.

Ehm.

So.

Yeah. If that demon invasion was somehow related, not typical of the undead and necromancers indeed.

"You gonna unravel the mystery for us, Ren?" Then she shrugged, and showed off a self-satisfied smile. "Or, maybe if we slice our way through all the dead in the graveyards, the problem will solve itself, and I can spend a night here in fucking peace for a change."

And by "peace," Jane meant a number of things that hardly qualified as such. Also add another one to the tally.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

The answers being provided to Asa's questions were not what he had hoped to hear. Nothing within two generations as far as undead related events. Perhaps a lazy lich? Unlikely. If they had been biding their time this long then suddenly wasting their resources now made no sense. Liches always thought of themselves as clever beings and were notoriously cautious. But he would be too if all it took to kill him was break an urn or jar into a hundred little pieces.

The next answer that followed immediately caught his attention. A demonic invasion. A topic he was far more familiar with than he wanted to be. There was a good chance their magical energies could have gotten into the soil and animated the dead. Once the dead began to walk they released the diseases festering within their rotting forms upon the people in town and the plague was born.

Was this why his mother was so annoyed? She sensed the lingering demonic energy and knew she had missed out on something interesting? Made sense for her. She did enjoy feasting on flesh, blood, and souls of mortals. What better time to do so than during the chaos of an invasion when everyone was focused on the living rather than the dead or dying?

The way Jane had grinned when mentioning the invasion....

"Perhaps I have already solved it my dear." Asa said as he turned his attention more to where they were going and less on the busty knight next to him. "What sort of demons were involved with the invasion? If they were the right kinds then it is possible these two events are linked. An after effect because a community forgot to have the land cleansed after demonic blood was slipped."

That was the most likely answer. It made sense and the pieces fit together with what he had been told.... But something felt off about it. If there was truly that much lingering demonic energy within the soil then it should have become desecrated land. His current relaxed state and general playfulness was not due at all to this place. It was entirely from the flirty banter he had been enjoying with the beauty accompanying him on this stroll. The dead would not rise on their own unless the soil about them was desecrated, so someone or something else had to be directly involved with it.

But if not a lich or necromancer then who?

"I could be wrong as well and these events are not related. Could be slicing our way through them all is the answer to the problem as you said Jane. Either way, we just need to be quick about it so we have more time tonight. A sound plan no?" The doctor's cane would playfully swat Jane's armor covered rump once more.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Out of Guillotine, just passing through the northern threshold of the town. Tumorous tree-covered hills on the outskirts, the uneven land difficult to near untenable for farming for most of the surrounding area--hence one of the reasons why Guillotine stayed a small town. The first of the five graveyards scattered around the outside of town wasn't far--not any of them were, really--and it would only take them about five or minute's worth of walking. Five if they hustled. Ten if they were leisurely. And they weren't hustling.

Perhaps he'd already solved it. Perhaps, he'd said, like he had with the bird. Jane's initial thought was that he was dicking her around again in the exact same non-answering fashion. Which on the first time was alright, maybe even funny. Second time it'd irritate her. Third time it'd really irritate her. And fourth time she figured her chances of having an "accident" while fighting the undead in Asa's proximity would increase dramatically.

But he wasn't. Seemed he actually was trying to narrow it down for an precise answer.

Jane tapped her chin with a plated finger. One, two, three taps. "Well. Had a whole host of 'em, as it turns out. I know more about Dark Ones and their spawn than demons, so bear with me. The bulk of the force were Imps, those little grinning bastards. Some bigger, specialized ones: A Bull-headed Demon, an Infernal Imp, Unholy Knights, a One-Eyed, Floating Head. All led by a succubus named Hyatta. So far as I know, Hyatta and her bodyguard Trenk were banished."

Jane never actually saw it happen herself. Never actually saw the succubus nor her bodyguard. But she, Titus, Nate, and the Guillotiners beat back enough of the demons, and somebody had to end Hyatta, because everything had come to an abrupt stop at some point in the fighting.

"The demons also exploded into ash when they were slain," she added. If it had been Hyatta's intention to disappoint Jane on that note--no lingering blood or dying gurgles or anything succulent like that--then she succeeded all right. Bitch.

He could be wrong. He could be on to something. But Jane shared all the pertinent points of the demonic invasion that she knew. Asa might have a fair idea figured out about the undead, the plague, or maybe both. So long as both problems were--

Clank.

Jane drew in a breath through her nose.

Then, walking beside Asa, she inched in closer. With her shieldless hand she walked her fore and middle fingers like a pair of legs up his arm and to his near shoulder. Then clamped down on it. Digging the tips of her fingers into the cloth of his garment, just enough to lightly feel the resistance of flesh and bone underneath.

"Ren," she said, looking up to him with a gaze slanted with insidious intent, "how about we make a deal? A tap, a touch...for a scratch, a bite. That I'll collect tonight."

A mildly sensual smirk crossed her expression. "Does that sound, hmmmmmm~~..." She rolled each of her shoulders in little anticipatory circles, "...fun...to you?"

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

As Jane provided more details on the demonic invasion, the more Asa's previous hypothesis fell apart. None of the demons being mentioned had any affinity for necromancy or necrotic arts. And the land not becoming desecrated made sense now. If they were turning into ash when they died instead of bleeding it likely meant they were not fully materialized into the mortal plane of existence. His own mother had to keep creating cambion children for centuries and form a pact with said child just to be able to stay for extended periods of time. And she was more powerful than a simple succubus.

That detail also was puzzling. A succubus was leading the invasion? Strange. They were normally drawn to more subtle affairs with mortals. Instead of spilling blood and raising a town to the ground, they usually preferred to charm a victim and then either drain them dry or force them into a pact if they were magically gifted. Their success rates and time within the plane were much higher that way.

So his earlier suspicions about a more direct hand being involved was becoming more likely....

The sensation of Jane's fingers walking up his arm caught his curiosity first. Then when she gripped his shoulder so hard and roughly she had his full attention. That gaze, her smirk, and the way she rolled her shoulders as she spoke of her deal.... This woman was fond of causing pain to others wasn't she? Rather fond he imagined.

Asa smiled beneath his mask. She was a unique one.

"Why Jane that is a very tempting deal you are offering.... But why don't I make it better?" He said as he leaned in closer to her. She would be able to see the glass lens of his mask and at his eye directly now. "How about you are free to do as you please with me regardless of how many taps and touches I make? You will find my constitution and tolerance for pain to be rather abnormal. And I am a healer. I can just fix up anything too bad after we are done."

He leaned his head back up. "How does that deal sound to you?" His attention went back to where they were heading. If he was correct about her interests then she would no doubt jump at the chance. If he was wrong then nothing would happen. Either way, he was more interested in seeing where this went than he was in any particular outcome.

Jane

 

[Jane]

The hand on his shoulder drifted away. Back to her herself, to her hair, her forefinger gliding down her temple, over the ridge of her cheekbone, sliding shortly along the side of her jaw, and stopping to ponder luxuriously at the tip of her chin.

Now that was an offer that had never once been extended to her before. She toyed with the thought that it was perhaps too good to be true, that there was some attached horseshit to sour the deal. Was he a masochist? She'd hate him forever if he was a masochist, stringing her along into what she thought was going to be a fabulous night that not even Astra could ruin (haha, consent is consent, those are your own rules, cunt) only to find out that it would in fact be bereft of any fun whatsoever. Fucking masochists. But, otherwise, she could hardly fathom why he'd even put forth such a deal. Sure, she knew what she had, she knew men liked what she had, but she also knew that--as it had been with Dave--it was a near universal rule that they were broken off at some point in the slow delve into her desires. No matter how much they liked those certain curves of her body, this was so.

Well. Call Jane a sucker for mystery. As well as a sucker for just wanting a damn release for all the pent up energy and frustrations she'd had building up. When your vices came a-calling, they only got louder and louder until satisfied.

"Alright..." she said, trailing off in a suggestive fashion. She swirled her perching forefinger in a circle about the base of her chin, then let her hand drift back down to her side. "Deal."

Now she was half-tempted to just turn right around and take Asa with her back to her lodging. Just half-tempted though. Despite the allure of what could be a hell of night that would end the drought, she was adverse to abandoning her friends of Guillotine. Because they were her friends. Possessive? Yeah, damn right. And somebody or something was fucking with the town they lived in and the town that Jane, also, just so happened to enjoy. Anarchic, rundown shithole full of crazy, headstrong sword-nuts as it was. Just her kind of town.

All that was left of the sun was a thin line of orange off to the west, and the brighter bunch of the nightly stars could be seen above even without the full dark. The moons were out tonight as well, their pale light soon to take primacy. Over the uneven road they went, the Guillotiners all in fatalistic good spirits certainly uncommon to other people from more "normal" towns.

"So how abnormal are we talking? For your constitution. Your tolerance for pain. You are human, right? You look the part."

Then again, how much did that count for? She'd found that out time and time again ever since traveling the wider world. Even a few of the Sisters--they who were fortune enough to be blessed--had some...interesting interventions. That left some secrets beneath a human guise.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

The silence was taking a rather long length of time. Even her hand had roamed away from his shoulder and danced its way the side of her face from the top of her head to the tip of her chin. It was here it found its place and it was here that he noted she had some serious thoughts going through her head. What could she be pondering? A unique woman such as this was a bit of a mystery. A mystery Asa was enjoying trying to solve.

The matter with the demons and undead had become a bit boring to him by this point. Early in his life those darker elements were intriguing. Even more they had ties to his own birth. But as he came to discover more and experience more the less curious they had become. Undead didn't think, usually, and demons were always trying to play mind games to get into as great of a position as they could. Predictable after a few decades.

But people like this busty knight next to him. It was people like this that kept life interesting. They way they saw the world was so unique and the shortness of their lives allowed all options to seem wise. It made for wonderfully unpredictable fun.

And then she took the deal. This got a smile beneath his mask. The night was going to be entertaining after all as he found out exactly what it was that excited her.

"Wonderful. I look forward to tonight."

Twilight was upon them. Asa had no need for torches or lights as the night was no enemy for his eye. But had the townspeople prepared anything beforehand? Or were they going to rely on their memory of the land?

His attention was not on the subject for long however before Jane asked her next set of questions. He should have known she would pick up on those little things. She was rather observant and clever. Details that made him more interested in her. But he would need to cover for it a bit or else attract unwanted attention to himself.

"After years of working with all kinds of medical and alchemical materials and potions, it would seem my body changed a bit. Not as easily injured and recover faster. Pain.... Well I feel it but it does not always bother me so much. Not sure if it is because I became use to it or not however."

Little half truths. His body had become use to certain things, such as smells and irritants, but none of it was the cause for the state of his abnormal constitution. All of that could be squarely placed on the shoulders of his mother. The part about pain however was mostly true. Centuries of living meant centuries of pain. Possible he stopped caring so much about it.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Interesting, what he'd said. Some good, some bad. Not as easily injured sounded like a chore, but faster to recover sounded exquisite. Much like how the Seal of Nykios helped her back recover so that she could fucking whip herself some more--and SHE was supposedly the only sadist here, how about you take a look in a divine mirror Nykios, and get Astra to do it too while you're at it. Anyway, back on track. Some good, some bad. Asa still felt pain, which was good, but it didn't bother him as much anymore, which threatened to be...hmmmmm...dull. Maybe he had a soft spot somewhere, a tender patch of skin where a simple touch could be electric and where a tiny slice could be devastating, or a bundle of nerves that could make a strong argument for him collapsing to his knees and quaking with agony.

What an deliciously exploratory night this could be, though. A drop of rain in a drought was worth more than a downpour in a deluge, that was for sure.

Jane grinned. Lightly drove an armored elbow into his Asa's side and made a little circle with it. Said, "I'll take it upon myself to be the judge of just how much your body has, mmmmmm~...changed."

Just needed to get through the nightly clean up duty. And to that end, the tombstones of the first graveyard they were about to visit could be seen through the waves of uneven forest floor and sparser trees around that cleared ground. They were just a bit ahead of schedule, set to arrive before the night had fully settled. Heh, maybe they'd see the undead actually rise for once. Every other time they were already up and either gathering or shambling toward town.

"Shouldn't be too big of a problem, these damn undead," Jane said, "but I can Bless you if need be. Little gifts from Astra. I've got a few different ones on offer."

To Jane's thinking, a Blessing of Drakon or Aionus might speed this whole ordeal up if Asa could make outstanding use of them.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

She was jabbing his ribs and making little circles as she did. Was it a sign she was warming up to him? Hopefully so. It had been... two decades? No, three decades. Yes, four decades since he had any sort of intimacy, fling, or affair with a mortal. Not that those were as joy filled as the youngsters tried to make it out to be. The whole game of it was what made it enjoyable not just the end reward. But they just hadn't had the proper time to come to understand that yet. Many didn't get the time to learn that.

But as interesting as this knight was, Asa knew it was worth entertaining the potential of ending the great dought he had more or less created for himself.

The suggestive comment was pleasant upon his ears. He had no doubt she was already thinking of ways she wished to explore his form. But the offer that followed.... He knew he needed to avoid taking it up somehow. A simple task in theory but one very difficult in practice to perform. Blessings weren't the sort of things people turned down. This was even more true for one coming from an established and more well known god like Astra. It might draw undo attention if he said no.

But Asa had an idea of how he would avoid such an unpleasant affair.

Motioning with his free hand, Asa pointed towards the locals in front of them. "A blessing might better serve one of the locals. They seem competent enough, but not on the same level as yourself. I would say I'm closer to your level of skill then they are. And a group is only as strong as their weakest member.... Or so I have heard from far more people than such a line honestly deserves."

Right after he followed it up with another tap of his cane into her armored rump. In a suggestive tone of his own he said, "More importantly, wouldn't it be more interesting for you if I could potentially be hurt? A little foreplay before our foreplay?"

Jane

 

[Jane]

Jane considered Asa's reply. Yeah, that was what she had been doing for all of the previous nights. Tossing out a Blessing of Drakon there on George because he was the best fighter of the bunch, tossing out a Blessing of Tychan here on Old Man Hatry because he was a fuck up, throwing out a Blessing of Nykios there on Blacksmith Telford to get his weapon charged, throwing out a Blessing of Metisa here on Ymir or Dave if either got a wound and possibly getting a free drink out of it. You know. All that.

Alright then. Asa was going to take care of himself. Jane liked that. Should be good to see him cure some undead of the whole undead thing...by making them actually dead...again...however that worked...damn did she hate the undead. Seriously, what was wrong with necromancers?

Clank, went the cane against the backside of her armor. And Asa added one more thing.

"No," she said, flashing teeth. "I'm the only one who gets to hurt you tonight."

Was it nice to simply watch someone else get hurt? Oh yes--she remembered Thagretis and all of the lovely things that happened there quite well. Was it better to inflict the pain herself, to feel closely all of the little things the body did in reaction to it, to have those tingles go shooting up her hands or her feet or whatever she was touching the spot with, to feel the sparking of an inferno between her thighs? Oh...yes...

Then.

They crossed the threshold into the first graveyard. And it was so late into the evening that it was but minutes away from the complete onset of night. The last defenders of the sun's color in the sky couldn't even be seen anymore beyond the trees surrounding the graveyard.

"Right on time to be a little too early," Ymir said, placing her hands on her hips and looking out over the quiet graveyard and its field of makeshift tombstones. There was some disturbed ground from where undead had risen a few nights about, but that was it.

"Maybe we'll get lucky again," said Old Man Hatry.

"That's a phrase you don't get to say often, huh," Jane said.

Hatry grinned, taking it in stride. Blacksmith Telford spoke up, "Maybe, Hatry. They've been up by sundown at least twice."

"Also they've been up well beyond the witching hour," said Dave, yawning already.

"Don't start that shit, now," George said. Then, to Jane, "Alright, do your thing."

Jane nodded, made a fist with her free hand, and held it close to her breastplate. Said the words, "Astra, grant me your light to guide my path."

And her Aura of Light became active slowly and gently. A shimmer was around her, and soft white light illuminated the area enough for the whole of the graveyard to be seen with good clarity.

"Eyes open, lads," George said.

While the Guillotiners were looking about, Jane tossed a glance to Asa. Said, "Don't let 'em bite you." And then in a lower, huskier voice, "Save that for me."

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

The cambion had spared himself the discomfort of a holy blessing. A minor victory for the evening. Thankfully the knight had found some wisdom in his suggestion to save the blessings for the locals. If his more suggestive comment had any effect on her as well it was hard to say. She had rejected the idea of someone else hurting him. Interesting woman more and more.

Banter from the locals and his busty companion for the evening seemed to erupt after they entered the threshold of the graveyard. He had held his breath a bit when they did. Often people consecrated their burial sites, and that could pose a problem for him to be spending a long period of time in the area. But it was thankfully not. It also helped provide a bit more information. Much easier to rise the dead from unconsecrated sites.

Jane was asked to and then provided a source of magical light. Lovely. The others began to dart about the place looking for any potential enemy. As they did, she had two things to say to him. A smirk crossed his face under his mask. The night was most definitely going to be interesting.

"Fear not my dear. I shall be pristine when you get to me later."

With that said, it was time to actually get to work. The doctor looked around as he casual strolled about the graveyard. He was looking for places the dead had already risen from more so than any place they might. An open grave might provide him with a clue as to the source of what was causing the dead to rise. Of course he was also prepared to defend himself should one attempt to mindlessly grab his leg.

Jane

 

[Jane]

"Pristine..." Jane said, rolling the word luxuriously over her tongue. And she punctuated it with a smirk. "Good. Goooood~. It's no fun breaking a window that's already broken, is it?"

And she left it at that. For now. Oh she certainly hoped that Asa was more like Nate and less like Dave. Finding people amenable to her tastes was a lot like finding a diamond (maybe even a pristine diamond) in a clump of earth. People that didn't shy away and as well people who weren't masochists. A very delicate balance, that, and rare enough that she had many spare fingers while counting them with one hand.

While Jane and the Guillotiners milled about and searched, searched and milled about, Asa might have noticed the rough character of the graves where the dead had risen nights prior. They had not been dug up, they had clawed their way up and out of the earth. Perhaps some undead were strong enough to do that, but the Guillotiners had described them as zombies and ghouls. Basic. Run-of-the-mill. But even zombies and ghouls could have the strength to unearth themselves...if they had a little magical help.

About half-an-hour passed. No sign. Nothing. The chirping insects of night had all begun their ceaseless racket and there was nothing much to speak of in this graveyard. George was about to suggest starting to make their rounds to the next when...

"You hear that?" Blacksmith Telford said.

Jane, having come close to Asa again in her idle wanderings, turned a glance back to Telford. And with a voice of mild anticipatory excitement, "Yeah. I do hear that."

From the southwest, off in the direction of the second graveyard. Twigs snapping and leaves crunching. The shuffling of feet. Small groans.

And then at the edge of Jane's Aura of Light, coming from the treeline at the southwest end of the graveyard, there they were. Shambling zombies with the rotted wrappings in which they had been buried and creeping ghouls stalking on all fours, slightly twisted versions of zombies made to be faster, more aggressive and dangerous. A mix of about twenty or twenty-five of them in total.

The Guillotiners drew their weapons.

"Hell, they're coming for us?" George said.

"That's new," said Ymir.

"Works for me. I'm ready to be done with this," said Dave.

And Jane wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment. On this night more than any other. Who knew, maybe the doctor here could also help this be done with for good--no more undead swarms at night, no more sickness in town. Call that a win.

Jane drew her Celestial longsword and smacked it against the side of her heater shield. Both the weapon and the rim of the shield brightened with radiant white light, her Smite and Holy Shield ready for battle.

"Alright, Ren," she said as the swarm of zombies and ghouls started to fixate their gazes on them all and advanced with feral fervor. "Ready to 'cure' some undead?"

* * * * *​

Tavian the demonologist walked through the streets of Guillotine. Sparse candlelight through windows, the illumination of the moon and the stars, not so dark this night. With the evening only just passed into night there were a few other people attending to their last bits of business for the day, fetching water or walking home from a friend's house or some such. Tavian even waved to a few.

It didn't bother him at all that these were the people he was infecting with the Seeding plague. No, not at all. All he cared about was knowledge. The knowledge of demons, and here he had a real chance. He missed the Pandemonium Crisis and for that he had never forgiven himself. The College had denied his enrollment and the libraries of Alliria and of the Empire were both so lacking.

But how lucky had he been? To catch word of a little shitstain of a town named Guillotine (just like the execution device) that had suffered a demonic invasion--an actual demonic invasion!--about a year ago. Yes, of course he was late to this. His fear during his journey was that he had missed out on this like he had missed out on Pandemonium.

Yet he was wrong. His fortunes had turned around.

And soon his work and that of his two co-conspirators would bring about what he desperately wanted.

The chance to meet a demon.

Face-to-face.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

The locals were busy looking for... something. Asa doubted they had much a plan or purpose in what they searched for. A fact that certainly made discovery much harder when needing specific information. Great way to stumble upon the unknown though.

And then his search turned up what he was looking for: holes above old graves. He had bent down and begun to examine them over. Something he was rather use to for a multitude of reasons. Oh how often people would blame something magical for the cause of a plague when it was mundane.

But this plague was not looking to be mundane. The direction of the dirt around the hole was that of something below struggling to rise above rather than something on high lowering itself below. So the undead had emerged from their graves. An action that would require magical assistance.... Interesting.

The doctor didn't have long to ponder. Jane had found her way to him. A bit of a possessive inclination perhaps? No matter. The sounds of the undead approaching had reached his ear by the time the first one of the locals had asked for confirmation. He took a moment pretending to be listening when he was in fact counting. One. Five. Ten. Twenty. Oh dear. More than twenty sources of sounds were coming their way.

He stood as they began to come into view. The dead things were abnormal. Twisted and changed by foul magics. An unholy energy about them. How calming.... But not something these locals would fare easily against.

What was he to do? Further assistance than blessings would be required.

"I suggest you all retreat behind me by, oh, five paces? Yes. Five paces. The situation is about to get rather heated." Asa said to them all in a rather casual tone as he calmly rummaged about his things.

He ended up pulling out a pair of vials with a strange liquid inside of them swirling about a mixture of red, orange, and yellow. Idly he spun them about like one would a glass of wine to let it breath. After a couple of seconds he tossed one to the right and the other the left. They busted as they struck trees and the contents exploded all about. The liquid ignited into flames as they landed. A great wall of flame was now between Asa and the undead swarm.

Calmly he drew his saber into his right hand. As he did he said, "The flames will devour the corpses. Do try not to get any of the liquid on you or it will devour you too."

=====================================================================

Tavian wasn't as alone in his stroll as he likely thought. From roof top to roof top and lamp post to lamp post a crow followed him. Her watchful eye ever on him. A gluttonous, greedy interest. He was a walking snack, a curiosity, to the bird. No caws. No ruffling. Just simply an ever watchful eye just out of reach. Following him. Observing him....

Jane

 

[Jane]

Retreat behind me by, oh, five paces?

"Don't have to tell me twice," said Old Man Hatry.

"This ought to be good," said Blacksmith Telford.

"Who's got snacks?" said George.

"My swordarm is still sore anyway," said Ymir.

"I got work to do, hopefully this goes quick," said Dave.

Swords still in hand, all of the Guillotiners nevertheless did as Asa suggested. Jane stood her ground, off a few steps from Asa's side at the forefront of the group. She watched with a mild interest as he produced those vials from his gear. Not really one to intuitively understand much about alchemy, she wouldn't have been able to make an approximate guess for what he was about to do. Ah. Well. See where this goes.

The vials flew through the air and burst against trees and flame--a lot of it--came snaking out and spreading along the ground.

"Huh. Flame in a bottle. Who knew," Jane said, musingly.

The undead made no effort to divert. The zombies and the ghouls went right through those flames, catching fire one by one as they marched through and some dropping down into burning, groaning masses immediately, some making it a few more steps before collapsing, and some--about three ghouls to be exact--came shambling hurriedly as the licks of flame went cascading off of their bodies and as their very misshapen bodies were disintegrating.

One of those said ghouls came Jane's way.

"Here's my dues for Astra," she said, taking one step forward and violently thrusting her shield and bashing the ghoul. The Holy energy lacing her shield crackled and zapped the ghoul and the burning creature fell backward, stunned, jittering and gibbering on the ground as it continued to roast from Asa's alchemical flame. "Can't say I didn't do anything."

The second ghoul vaguely in Asa's direction.

The third, almost completely consumed with flame, trying to skitter around Asa and Jane both.

* * * * *​

Tavian knocked on the door of a home. Waited patiently until the man inside came to answer. He had as well one hand inside of his pocket.

"Hello friend," Tavian said when the door opened. "I've heard there's another tavern in town. Dirty Dave's doesn't seem to be open at the moment. Could you point me in the right direction?"

The man had a vague glimmer of recognition. "You that man from Elbion, yeah?"

"Yes." A humble little shrug of his shoulders. "Doing some field studies."

"Fuckin' brave or foolish of ya to stick around in Guillotine durin' all this mess, plague and undead and what not." But the man grinned, showing some of that Guillotiner spirit. "But I like 'em both, the brave and the fools. Ymir's tavern is just down that way, you'll see a sign. Small sign, but, you know, it's there. She might be out too, though; she goes to kill the undead every other night or so."

Tavian unsheathed the hand in his pocket. Offered it for a shake. "Thanks, friend. I'll have a look."

The man at the door shook it. "Just don't tell Dave you liked her mead better."

"I'll keep it to myself."

"Take care."

And the door was shut and Tavian on his supposed way. Surely there were enough infected for the plan? It had been terribly unspecific, but he was getting assurances that it was nearly time. Oh so nearly. Within a matter of a scant few days. Maybe a couple. Maybe, should he dare to hope, tomorrow.

Asa Renwyk