Terday, 30 Dark Days 204
They are now just one day from Demdomin, however, the tension on
the ship is rising notably. Wolfus and Guiseppe continue to be in
a state of shock, Black gives the word stoicism new meaning, Proudfoot
and his bunions are becoming increasingly irritating, and the captain
is trying to hold her crew together. Fallor is convinced that the
killer is a demon. What else could have done such a thing? The idea
alarms Jessica. She doesn’t have much truck with magic of any
kind. She thinks that they should go out of their way to avoid any
supernatural entanglements.
The nails used to kill Guiseppe are more closely analysed. They
are are made of rusty iron, and their construction is very primitive.
Nomads traversing Urova before the Hadradan occupation could make
better nails that this. They are the product of an extremely primitive
culture. But how does this tally with the very sophisticated magic
that had to have been employed to kill Guiseppe?
In the evening, the watch begins as usual. On the tiller is Captain
Montague, Jonus, Jessica and Giacomo. On watch below decks is Simian
Black, Wolfus, Fallor and Torr. The rest of the crew and party sleep
fitfully waiting for their turn. Jonus has conjured a magic circle
against evil around the sleepers, that he renews every few hours.
And it is Jonus who is the first to notice something amiss.
An unnatural mist is beginning to roll in across the sea. It is
moving against the wind. “The prow!” declares Jessica,
remembering the point of the first murderer, and supposing that
the killer will appear there again. Jonus takes to the air with
a ‘Fly’ spell, while the captain follows Jessica with
Giacomo. No one is to be left alone. But when the group reaches
the bow, they discover nothing except the mist swirling around their
feet. Then it occurs to them that the murder may well be taking
place elsewhere on the vessel.
In the hold, Torr utters an exclamation and points at the figure
of Wolfus Bashardi. Though still standing, Wolfus’s head is
lolling on to one shoulder. His hands hang limply by his side and
his eyelids are flickering rapidly. Only the whites of his eyes
are visible. The temperature in the hold of the boat seems to drop
markedly, and you can feel the hairs on your neck stand to attention.
Suddenly, Wolfus lurches forward, as if a puppet-master has tugged
on unseen strings. Then slowly he begins to lift into the air. Rising
inch by inch, and slowly revolving as he does so.
Fallor yells and runs heavily across the deck, through his sleeping
companions, waking them. He leaps and grabs hold of Wolfus. But
even his mighty strength is not enough to pull the sailor back to
earth. In fact he is rising with Wolfus. Elias shakes himself from
his shallow sleep, and sees what is happening. He quickly grasps
the hilt of the invisible rapier given to the party by Narramac.
His vision becomes alive to invisible creatures. Then he sees it.
Walking across the floor of the vessel is the shadowy, translucent
form of a woman. She stands a hand shy of Ravenna’s height,
and is more than twice her age. Across her shoulder is slung a bag
made from the hide of animals, and at her belt hangs a primitive
stone hammer. Beyond that she is completely naked save for the length
of black and silver hair that half-covers her back. Yet even in
her nakedness, her skin cannot be seen. Dozens, perhaps hundreds
of brightly coloured tattoos and pictures cover every inch of her
flesh. Pictures of men and dragons, of stars and mountains, in golds
and reds and violent greens, all meshed together into one lurid
whole that seems to move with a life of its own. Her eyes are pitiless
black, and all her attention is focused upon Wolfus.
“I see her too,” says Ravenna slowly. The question of
how Ravenna can do this without magical aid, does not seem an immediately
urgent one. “Where is it?” asks Drasha. Elias points and
his wife moves forward with her magical sword. She takes a swipe
at the creature but her blade passes harmless through it. “It’s
ethereal,” says Ravenna quickly. “It’s not fully
in this world,” then she pauses, “if it’s ethereal
it shouldn’t be able to affect the real world at all. So how
is it doing this to Wolfus?”
Another good question that there is no time to answer. As Torr
and Misgon cast magic to be able to see the creature, Elias steps
forward. Maybe his healing touch will be a bane to this being, but
there is no effect. Abruptly the apparition unshoulders her bag
and drops it to the floor. There is an audible crunch that everyone
in the hold can hear as it hits the deck. The sound of hundreds
of small metal objects chinking together. Nails. Yet as Elias tries
to pick up the bag he discovers that it is still intangible.
Ravenna lets fly with a ‘dispel magic’ incantation, to
try and free Wolfus, but to no avail. Fallor releases Wolfus and
takes a swing at the intruder with his two-handed sword with such
force that he almost does through the deck as his blade passes harmlessly
through her. Torr realises that there is a way he can still hurt
an ethereal being and lets fly with a volley of magic missiles.
Force magicks can still penetrate from this world to the world of
the mists. But as he launches the missiles, it is clear that this
creature’s insubstantial nature is not its only defence.
Before the missiles can reach their target, a tattoo of a great,
blood-red serpent comes to life and uncoils itself from around the
creature’s waist. Opening its hideous, draconic maw, the serpent
calmly swallows the missiles, nullifying their effect, and then
returns to its previous state, becoming one with the skin of its
host.
The creature itself does not seem to notice the attack. She simply
stands, looking up at the floating Wolfus and begins to speak. It
is a mournful dirge, audible to everyone in the hold, although the
language is totally alien. As she begins a hole in the fabric of
reality opens and Jonus steps through. He has dimension doored from
the bow to save time. He surveys the bizarre seen. He can only hear
the voice. He cannot see the creature. He casts ‘comprehend
languages’ and listens closely. “It is a lament for the
dead,” he says. It is an appeal for vengeance from a god.
More magic missiles are intercepted by the serpent as Misgon and
Torr continue the assault. Ravenna continues her attempts to free
Wolfus but to no avail. “Use Narramac’s staff!” she
yells to Misgon. The young wizard pauses. The staff’s power
is finite. Is it really necessary? Fallor pulls out his drum and
begins to countersong the dirge. By the time Jessica, the captain
and Giacomo arrive in the hold, the intruder has moved on to the
next step of her strategy.
She removes a stone hammer from her belt. As she does so, the bag
at her feet springs open and dozens upon dozens of roughly hewn
nails float out and completely surround Wolfus. Ravenna swears loudly,
and tries to dispel again. She fails. “What’s going on?”
Jessica asks. She can’t see the intruder either. Elias barks
a quick explanation. “She has to enter this world to use those
nails,” says Torr reasonably. “We won’t have long
when she does. Get ready.”
Jessica jumps into the hold, pulls out her garotte and stands ready
to attack this creature. Fallor magically increases his strength,
and stands ready with his word. Elias and Drasha draw their swords
and move in. And all the while the intangible nails hover inches
from Wolfus body. “Let me try something!” calls Jonus.
He runs in, grabs Wolfus and tries to dimension door away with him.
As he does so, he realises that something terrible has gone wrong.
His own body zips into the dimensional portal with ease, but Wolfus
is rooted to the spot. As he holds onto the Bashardi he feels his
body being stretched to breaking point. He has to let go. Jonus
snaps back together like an elastic band and flies out of the dimensional
exit he placed high above the ship. He disappers into the night
sky.
Elias and the other look at each other with a grim determination.
And suddenly it happens. This intruder, this painted lady, steps
into the real world. Her nails appear in the real world, and the
party explodes into action. Torr, Misgon and Ravenna unleash more
magic missiles that swerve around their companions to the target.
But the serpent still rises to intercept them. And this time it
sends the missiles back to their source! Their own magical attacks
strike the party’s arcanists and they crumple.
The the fighers wade in, swords flying. Another tattoo on their
opponent’s body springs into life at this action. A huge implacable
mountain. The hard stone defeating the blows of even Fallor, so
that no attack reaches her body. The painted lady seems completely
obvlivious to the assaults; she continues to stare at Wolfus. Jessica
leaps forward aiming to loop her garotte around her foe’s neck.
She doesn’t get there. A third tattoo, one of an enormous ape,
springs to life in front of her and grabs her in its powerful, vice-like,
arms. Their attack is utterly ineffectual.
Wolfus eyes suddenly snap back into consciousness and he surveys
the scenes. For a split second he sees the hundreds of nails hovering
there before him. He screams. With the dull thud of metal entering
flesh, the dozens of nails penetrate Wolfus’s body. They enter
through his eyes, his mouth, through every inch of flesh he has.
For a second Wolfus hangs there in the air. Then the painted lady
pauses, as if for breath, and vanishes.
The magic gone, Wolfus’s dead body collapses to the deck,
a rich carpet of blood issuing from it. Elias looks at the corpse,
and then at his companions. “There was nothing more we could
have done,” says Ravenna, “Nothing!” Giacomo falls
to his knees, and begins with wail.
A stunned silence reigns after the death of Wolfus. His body is
wrapped in sailcloth and placed next to his fallen brother. There
is no doubt now that this killer, this painted lady, is after the
Bashardi Brothers, but why? Giacomo is incolsolable. Despite the
very real danger his own life is in, he will not answer any of Elias’s
questions. “The Watchers,” says Torr. “When we get
to Demdomin. The Watchers can question the dead.”
Jessica, realising that the woman who just killed Wolfus bears
a passing ressemblance to the figure head of this vessel heads to
the bow. The ship is called The Painted Lady – what is the
connection? The captain doesn’t know. The ship was all ready
named when she obtained it from Silvio Bashardi. With the help of
Jonus, who by now has returned to the bad news, Jessica hangs over
the side of the vessel and attacks the figurehead with her dagger,
searching for anything within. It is not magical, reports the cleric.
Elias and the rest of the party try to work out what is going on.
Did Silvio Bashardi know that monster was after his sons? Is that
why he gaze his ship to Susanna Montague and killed himself, to
throw The Painted Lady off the scent? But it still makes no sense.
What is the motive behind the murders? Ravenna can at least take
solace in the fact that she is not the killer, but she still has
her own questions. Why can’t she remember climbing onto deck
two nights ago, and how as she able to see this creature without
the aid of magical spells?
Zephday, 31 Dark Days 204
Misgon is feeling guilty. He didn’t use Narramac’s staff
when he had the chance, and now Wolfus is dead. No one blames him,
but he is still cursing himself. Giacomo is completely inconsolable.
He has lost two brothers and does not know which way to turn. Jessica
is becoming increasingly suspicious that the tattooed killer is
somewhere on the vessel, and even swims underneath the ship, but
to no avail.
All the efforts of the party now must be in protecting Giacomo.
Torr casts a ‘nondetection’ spell upon the Giacomo, and
Drasha is not optimistic. “Realistically,” she says, “what
can we do aginst this creature that we did not do last night?”
They had better decide quickly. Bobby Proudfoot has announced that
his bunions are the worse he has ever felt. He has reached the Plateau
of Pain.
In the twleve hours before the ship berths in the harbour at Demodomin
it skirts through a hundred tropical islands of varying sizes (most
of which are uninhabited) that stretch out for over 200 miles from
the coast of Calclafique and into the vast ocean. Many of the closest
islands are inhabited, and offer berthing for the many ships that
cannot fit into Demdomin’s relatively small harbour.
The captain tells the party a little about Demdomin. It is a city
of 20,000 souls nestled close to the mouth of the Igen river. There
are two docks (the nothern and the southern) on either side of the
river mouth. The actual city is north of the river, on the sea coast,
a quarter of a mile from the northern docks. They will, therefore,
have to sail past Demdomin to reach the docks. There is very little
building around the southern docks, making it an unwelcome berth
for sailors. The only way to the northern docks is by one of the
dozens is independent ferrymen who ply their trade in anything from
a barge to a canoe, and normally charge somewhere between 2½
pennies and 1 shilling for the crossing. Around the northern docks
is a small community of taverns, customs offices and tax controllers
known by the locals as Portside. However, there is no where to stay
down there and any visitors will need to find a hostelry in the
city.
It is the captain’s intention to find a berth in the northern
docks and then send for some Gatemen (the Demdomin equivalent of
the city watch). Montague knows a gatemaster called Proviso whom
she thinks will be able to help them. With the resources of the
Gatemen and the Watchers are their disposal, Montague prays that
they will be able to save Giacomo before it is too late.
Two hours before dusk, the coaster sails past the city of Demdomin.
It is a well made and heavilty forified walled city that looks quite
like Uris, both cities having been based upon Hadradan designs.
However, there is little evidence of original Hadradan structures
and buildings in the city. The oldest building in Demdomin is called
the Senate. It shares some charactersitics with the Grand Panoptican
attached to the royal palace in Uris, but it is larger and in a
state of greater disrepair. The Senate is a large stone arena capable
of holding up to 5000 people. Historical documents reveal that it
once had a roof, but now it is open to the elements. To Elias and
Ravenna, the city is reminiscent of Hadras. Although there is nothing
(besides the Senate) that dates from Hadradan times, the rest of
the city’s architecture has been heavily influenced by Hadradan
thought. Domes and thin bell towers abound.
All of the sixteen true churches are represented in Demdomin and
the surrouding country. The greatest and most important of these
churches is the Watchers on the Cusp of Oblivion. In addition to
their pursuit of philolosophy and theosophy, Calclafans still have
an (unhealthy) obsession with death. Although they are in no way
opposed to the Watcher’s tenet against resurrection, they are
obsessed with living after they die in their achievements and in
the memories of the living. Cemetries have become the grandest and
most obvious structures in the city. The Fields of Mortis outside
the city is awash with the grandest and most peculiar gravestones
any one can imagine. The Grand Mausoleum within the walls is even
more elaborate.
Sergenté, who is a native of Demdomin tells the party of
the peculiar way the enclave is governed. The Elected Senate meets
in the Senate every Sunday and matters of great import are discussed.
Every ward in the city and every village in the country is permitted
to send one senator to the Senate. There are over 700 senators in
Calclafique. Sergenté thinks this is a stupidly large number.
Some senators represent the needs of hundreds of people, while others
only represent themselves. All have equal status in the Senate,
although some are more equal that others. A Leader of the Senate
is elected every year (four seasons), by a popular vote of members
of the Senate. The current Leader of the Senate is called Alakovan.
The Leader of the Senate then chooses “twelve men of good and
noble character” to aid him in leading the senate to vote on
important issues of the day. These twelve men do not need to the
be men (although they almost always are) and they do not need to
be senators. Alakovan has selected five advisers who are not also
senators. This has caused something of a stir. Alakovan is in his
final season, and is not techincally able to be voted in for a second
term. However, he is working to change that, and as he is so popular
no-one seems to mind. There are no political parties in the Senate,
although scores of common interest groups who work together to change
any thing from the level of taxation to the colour of the Senate’s
wall hangings. The Senate and the Senators are paid for by taxing
the population. Taxes mostly consist of levies on ships who dock
in the harbour, but there is also a Window Tax that is levied once
a year on everyone in the city. There is no nobility in Calclafique.
Nobles who wanted to keep their titles left an age ago, and may
have set up separate kingdoms in the Wilderlands.
This all seems particularly odd to a raving monarchist like Elias,
but Jessica seems to approve. Considering her stock trade seems
to be in killing nobles, this is probably to be expected. Sergenté
predicts that they will find the people of Demdomin friendly, and
extremely tolerant of outsiders. They are well educated and there
is an extremely high level of literacy compared to Norandor. Most
publicans and innkeepers in Demdomin (and many members of the law
enforcement officials) can speak a second language. On the most
part this is Salmayan, but some do speak Norandon.
“What about the Gatemen?” asks Torr. “Can they be
trusted?” Sergenté shrugs. It depends on the Gatemen.
Each Gatehouse has resposibility for a law and order in a certain
section of the city and is completely autonomous to all other gatehouses.
The Gatemaster of each gatehouse is therefore a bit of a law unto
himself. The Gatemen’s wages are paid from the taxes they themselves
raise from the sphere of influence, some are probably corrupt, but
if Montague says they can trust this Proviso then Sergenté
has no fear of him. “There is no-one else to go to besides
the Gatemen anyway,” says Sergenté, “except the
Praetorian Guard, and they answer only to the Leader of the Senate.
They’re more like an army, though.”
The northern docks are packed when the party arrives. But Montague
knows the port well, and cuts up another vessel to fing a welcome
berth. As Sergenté and Proudfoot secure the ship Simian Black
heads into the docks to summon the gatemen. It is almost dark. The
party are gambling the the tattooed assassin must wait at least
two days inbetween murders. That could be totally wrong, and there
is no reason why she could not return tonight.
Black returns after half our hour with three black suited men.
Two wear a single vertical line on their breast, and do not seem
to speak Norandon. The third, has two lines and walks up onto the
deck. He is Gateman Manarthan, and he introduces his subordinates,
Sulvan and Gessel. “What has happened here?” Manarthan
asks Captain Montague.
Montague glances at the party and then retells the sequence of
events over the past few days that has left two members of her crew
dead. Manarthan calmly writes the facts down on a piece of parchment.
He seems completely unfazed by the tale. “And do you know the
manner of the supernatural entity, captain?” he asks. Montague
defers to Ravenna, Elias and Misgon who are able to tell Manarthan
all manner of magical information. Whether Manarthan understands
what is said is not clear, but he writes down everything he is told.
“Do you expect another attack?……. When do you expect
it?……. And why is that?” Question after question
from the gateman. He asks to have Giacomo pointed out. “And
are there any spellweavers in your crew?” is his final question.
He notes the names of Ravenna, Elias, Jonus, Fallor, Misgon and
Torr. “Very well,” he concludes. “The best think
to do would be remove these bodies to the gatehouse of Gatemaster
Treviso. Sulvan, Gessel take charge of the bodies. Captain, if you
would like to follow me?”
With the exception of Black, Sergenté and Proudfoot everyone
follows the captain. Gessel and Sulvan take the bodies of Guiseppe
and Wolfus and they head out into the docks. Jessica seems a little
nervous about effectively visiting a police station, but she tries
to look nonchalant.
The group heads through the bustling docks and out through the
shanties and sturdier taverns of Portside. The Northern Docks are
fenced in behind a six foot wall of stone. Through that wall there
is a straight road of hard stone and chipped gravel, leading the
quarter mile north to Demdomin. The road is completely packed with
merchants and traders. Manarthan leads the way to the side of the
main thoroughfare, and to a parallel road called The Gate Path,
which is set aside for emergency use by the gateman. This path is
not paved, but with no one else upon it, their progress is much
swifter.
To the east the party can see the beginnings of wall that will
eventually link the city wall of Demdomin with the wall surrouding
the Northern Docks, and link the two areas together. The well-travelled
members of the party are well aware that beyond the eastern horizon
are the wilderlands of Calclafique. A place of stark dangers, and
it is little wonder the people of Demdomin want to protect themselves.
The Gate Path leads directly to a small door in the wall of Demdomin.
Standing outside it are four similarly clad gatemen who stand aside
after a few words from Manarthan. Manarthan leads the party into
the city. It is a strange place for those who have not visited Hadras.
Little more than ten paces beyond the doorway is a cobbled courtyard
in which stands a three storey building, of white stone. It is not
domed like many of the surrounding strucures but has a gently sloping,
tiled roof. This is the gatehouse, announces Manarthan – a
station for more than one hundred gatemen.
They pass clusters of off-duty gatemen talking boisterously amongst
themselves as they enter the building. Within is a poorly lit entrance
hall with inefficient lights guttering in braziers on the wall.
A large stone table sits are the centre of the room, and behind
it is an elderly man also dressed in gateman black. Manarthan commands
Gessel and Sulvan to take the bodies down a set of stairs in the
corner of the room and speaks to the old man. “Please wait
here,” says Manarthan to the captain moments later. “I
will information Gatemaster Treviso of your arrival.”
“I don’t like this place at all,” says Jessica,
feeling a little nervous. About thirty minutes later, Manarthan
returns with a figure that can only be Gatemaster Treviso. He is
a thin man in his late forties with long black hair swept directly
back, away from his forehead, and held there by a rather greasy
agent. He is dressed in the same worn black robes as the rest of
the Gatemen, with the exception of three white horizontal. He strides
toward Captain Montague and greets her with familiarity.
“Captain Montague. Good to see you again. Gateman Manarthan
has reported these events to me. You must be Giacomo Bashardi. My
sympathies, sir. If you would like to go with the Gateman he will
get you something to eat and have a priest of Vítaeous look
you over.” Giacomo looks a little unnerved at being addressed
directly by Treviso. The Gatemaster puts a kind hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry you are in the best of hands now.”
Treviso watches Manarthan lead Giacomo through an archway and deeper
into the gate house. Only when the sailor has completely departed
does he turn back to the captain. “If you and your companions
would like to join me downstairs I would like to take a look at
these two bodies, and then we can see what we can do about keeping
the third brother alive. I have asked Necress Adeline to join us.
She has been asigned to this Gatehouse from the Watchers, and might
be able to shed some light on this matter.”
Down the staits are the dungeons, and a plain room with no natural
light the bodies of Guiseppe and Wolfus are arranged on two stons
slabs. Treviso makes a little talk with the party, but as he tries
to speak to Torr no information at all is forthcoming. He asks whether
they have any theories about this Painted Assassin, and the party
tell him about the suicide of Silvio Bashardi, and their belief
that these events could be linked. Treviso looks over the bodies
without touching them and shakes his head slowly. He has never seen
anything like this.
Eventually, a woman enters the chamber. She is slightly older than
Treviso and has a completely shaven head. On her forehead is painted
a small white skull, and she is clad in a figure-hugging dress of
emerald green. This is not the standard dress for a Watcher in Norandor
(or Salmaynak for that matter), but this evidently is the necress
that Treviso referred to earlier.
Necress Adeline asks the party several questions about the killer
and casts a number of minor magicks on the corpses. She then suggests
that speaking with the dead bodies is the best course of action.
Elias agrees. “I’m out of here,” says Jessica. She
has little truck with magic at the best of times and will not stay
to witness this. Jonus also leaves. He does not like dead thinks
moving around.
Adeline shrugs and casts her magic, first upon Guiseppe. Fallor
shudders and does the dance to ward of evil as Guiseppe’s dead
head truns toward the party. Elias asks questions about where the
ship, ‘The Painted Lady’ came from, what happened to Guiseppe’s
father and what he knows about his killer. Guiseppe’s amiable
unhelpfulness is only matched by his brother, Wolfus. Distressing
though it is to hear Guiseppe and Wolfus’s voices, as carefree
as they were in life, Elias still feels the urge to slap them. It
is as though the pair walked through life with their eyes tightly
shut. They can happily describe every woman they have ever known
in intimate detail, but ask them a question that requires an attention
span better than a burning ferret and they simply smile and blink.
In the end Adeline ends the spell.
“It is clear that this is not the remit of the Watchers,”
she says. “A living being committed this atrocity, not an undead
creature. There is little more than I can do to help you.”
The party is crestfallen. They had hoped to get some answers from
the Watchers. Adeline relents and says, “I can offer some small
advice, however. This killer has honed her art over many seasons.
I suspect it very likely that a killing such as this has happened
before.”
Treviso agrees and sends an underling to check the records of the
gatehouse to see whether there have been any deaths such as this.
Within an hour, Manarthan enters the room where they are waiting
with news. “You were right, Gatemaster,” he says to Treviso.
“We have records of killings such as these, although not with
the last five years.” – “Five years?” questions
Treviso, Manarthan nods. Ravenna comments that it is a long time
for a mortal killer to be inactive, but she is told that these records
pertain only to the investigations of this gatehouse, and there
are another eighteen gatehouses in the city. There is no central
repository of cases. “There was one more thing,” says
Manarthan, “a note attached to the file. Should any killing
such as this take place, we were to contact Mersuco at the Tower
of Fallen Wizardry for aid.”
Leaving Giacomo at the gatehouse with Captain Montague, the party,
Drasha, Misgon and Gateman Manarthan make the journey across town
to find this Mersuco. Manarthan explains that the Tower of Fallen
Wizardry is a bit of a misnomer. It is actually a boarding house
for batchelor wizards, Manarthan doubts very much that wizards who
have fallen on hard times could afford to stay there. It is actually
three towers, not one, linked together by precipitous walkways.
Each tower has four floors above ground and a basement that contains
a communal laboratory. Each of the first three floors of each tower
contain three rooms, and the nine wizards who dwell there share
the laboratory. The top floor of the tower is one large apartment
with its own lab.
In a courtyard at the centre of the three towers is an elegant
tavern where the landlord, Pelini and his daughters live. Each tower
is named after one of his daughters – Gretchen, Selené
and Helen.
Very soon the party sees that Manarthan’s word is perfectly
true. They pause briefly to gape at the three perfectly cylindrical
domed towers, and then enter through an iron gate into a paved garden
of potted plants and statues at its centre. The tavern is a square
building, that looks a little incogruous next to the towers. The
sign of the Arcanum Incognita is on the door.
Inside, it is obvious that this is far from a raucous dive. The
bar is immaculately clean and no-one in the room (except themselves)
is obviously armed. Their eyes are drawn, perhaps by gravity, to
the figure behind the bar. The innkeeper and landlord, Pelini, is
the by far the fattest man any of them has ever seen. Enormous rolls
of flab are parked on the bar in an attempt to squeeze the man’s
staggering bulk into a space where two Fallors could easily pass.
The man’s shoulders appear to begin at his ears and his neckless
head seems to be an extension of his tremendous torso rather than
a separate part of the body.
The party are soon glad that they brought Manarthan. The presence
of the gateman opens doors for them, and very soon they are told
that Mersuco dwells in the apartment at the top of the Tower of
Selené. Pelini gives Elias a tray containing two plates.
If they are going to see him, they might as well be useful and take
him his dinner, after all.
Thanking Pelini, the party head to the Tower of Selené and
begin to climb the stairs that run up its centre. The inside is
magically lit, and Ravenna notices that all the doors they pass
are heavily warded against intruders. At the top of the tower is
a small landing that the nine of them have difficulty squeezing
into. There is only one door here, that Elias knocks upon. There
is movement in the room and a man opens the door.
Tall and wiry, with a white-flecked but neatly trimmed beard, Merusco
is wearing a dressing gown of multicoloured silk and nothing else.
He gives the party an odd look and shrugs, “Thank you,”
he says, takes the tray from Elias and closes the door. Elias sighs
and bangs on the door again. Mersuco opens it. “I am rather
busy,” he begins, and then says, “Oh, I’m sorry,”
and hands Elias a gold coin. He then closes the door again. Elias
knocks for a third time. “I can give you another coin if you
have fallen on hard times,” said Mersuco, “but it is not
something you should make a habit of.”
“We are not here for that,” says Elias hotly. Mersuco
looks at them and then notices the gateman. At that moment the party
can hear the giggle of a female voice from inside the room. “I
am rather busy. If this is gateman business, I suggest you return
tomorrow.” – “Two men are dead,” says Elias
quickly. “The gatemen have your name as someone who might know
something about the killer. A tattooed woman who is able to become
ethereal and….”
But he gets no further. Mersuco’s eyes bulge like a throttled
frog, and a giddy smile appears on his face. “The Painted Lady!”
he exclaims. “Come in! Come in! All of you, quickly! Please!”
They follow Merscuo into an elegant room of plush furnishing and
soft cushions. He is not short of a sovereign or two, this man.
“Sit! Sit!” says Mersuco, dashing to a room that is probably
the bedroom and telling his companion that she will be eating alone.
He then grabs parchement, ink and quill from his desk, flops into
a heavily cushioned chair. “Tell me everything. Leave nothing
out.”
Elias looks at his companions. Manarthan defers to him for the
details and so Elias begins. He tells Mersuco everything, except
that they had suspected Ravenna of being the killer. Mersuco nods
and takes everything down. “This is absolutely fascinating.
No one has ever seen the Painted Lady at work before, excpet her
victims and they have all died. Amazing. Amazing.” – “What
do you know?” asks Elias. “Is there anything else?”
Mersuco asks. “I know much, but I do not want anything you
have to tell me coloured by my knowledge.”
They go over the story once more, and Mersuco sets his quill down,
excited. “Amazing!” he says again. “She came on the
twenty-eighth and the thirtieth and you believe that she is coming
back tomorrow for Giacomo Bashardi. That is remarkable!” He
does not seem the least bit concerned that Giacomo could be dead
in less that twenty-eight hours. Ravenna presses him to tell them
what he knows.
He begins: “Twenty-five years ago a woman called Umaru was
discovered floating in a wrecked boat in Calclafan waters. She was
peculiar with strange, olive-coloured skin and completely covered
in tattoos. With her was a baby, whom she called Lupo. She spoke
a strange incomprehensible language, decipherable only by magic.
She also carried a small totem with her that she would not speak
of. It was a of a small man in ebony, sitting cross-legged with
hundreds of tiny nails hammered into its body. Because of her unique
nature, Umaru became something of a celebrity around Demdomin. She
became known as The Painted Lady, and the totem as her Punctured
God.”
“Umaru never made any attempt to learn the native language,
and seemed bewildered by Calclafan life, devoting all her energy
to dote on her son. However, over the next five seasons, Umaru’s
novelty value wore off, and her popularity as a talking point that
could be wheeled out at parties began to wane. Eventually she found
herself eeking out a living in a travelling freak show. Prejudice
and violence stalked her existence. It was not a pleasant life in
which to raise her son.”
“Then ninety-five seasons ago a gang of youths, the youngest
barely nine seasons, the eldest not twice that, abducted the little
boy. They showed him cruelty in a way that only children can. They
took the boy and hammered 137 nails into him. He did not die until
the ninetieth pierced his heart. The gang fled and most were never
caught. How can you mete out justice to children? Under Calclafan
the parents answered for the crimes of the child, and several parents
were put to death for the murder. It was not enough for The Painted
Lady. She took her punctured god and left Calclafique. She went
into the wilderlands and did not return for twenty seasons.”
“When she did come back, it was with the most horrific of
motives. She had not aged a day in the intervening years but she
had changed. She had become a hunter. She wanted to wipe away any
trace of the murderers of her son from history. And so she hunted
down the perpetrators, and all their descendents. She will not rest
until there is not trace of the families that wronged her left in
the world. She has yet to finish her task. She kills, and she kills
in the same manner that those youths killed her Lupo.”
“Where she got her powers or her longevity is unknown. She
is not undead, it is as though a the burning spark of vegenace is
keeping her alive. It is said that no barrier can oppose her, that
she can move anywhere and leave no trace. Her victims are transfixed
and cannot run from her. She carries a bag filled with six inch
nails, and the first thing her victim knows of her coming is when
she sets it on the ground before him. Some speculate that her powers
come from the tattoos on her body, others that she is granted them
by the punctured god that she carries. The Bashardi family must
be descendents of one member of the original gang who murdered Lupo,
that is why she has come for them.”
For a moment there is silence. Umaru’s story is a tragic one,
but that does not lessen the danger to Giacomo. In the ensuing discussion
several things are deduced. If she wants all the Bashardis dead
then there must be a reason she did not kill all three of them three
nights ago. Her powers have limits, she must go away to recharge.
Nextly, if she was ethereal when Wolfus was transfixed by her, how
did she work her magic from the ethereal plane to Iourn? –
such a thing should be impossible. If this Punctured God is a true
deity, then is the Painted Lady power by divine power, taking her
beyond the usual mortal limitations on magic. Is the totem of the
Punctured God the source of her power, and if it is, where is it?
It wasn’t with her when she killed Wolfus.
The party asked Mersuco what his interest in the Painted Lady is.
He explains that he was always fascinated by the story of Umaru
since he was a boy. His great grandfather once served at one of
the party’s that Umaru attended, and he told Mersuco that story
many times before he died. As he grew older, interest turned into
hobby and hobby turned into obsession.
“What happened to Lupo’s body?” asks Ravenna. Mersuco
says that it was buried at the Grand Mausoleum where it still resides.
“Perhaps we should try and get a look at it,” Ravenna
says. Perhaps something can be done to the son’s body to put
the Painted Lady to rest. It isn’t much of a plan, but it is
all they have, and time is running out for Giacomo Bashardi.
Painted Lady Index
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