Author’s note: I’ve recently started a PF2 stream with a few friends on the Twitch channel Roll the Role. The premise: A crew of dhampirs with the same ‘sire’ have banded together to make coin, a name for themselves, and sort out their complicated past and future. This takes place after session two.
[ < Family Reunion ] [ Study Hall > ]
Anna settled into her room at the Barrel & Bullet saloon. She’d learned to travel light over the years, much to her displeasure. When she was young, and still known as a woman of station, even a visit to nearby notables would require several trunks, stuffed to the gills with gowns for every conceivable event: feather-light dresses for brunch, simple yet colorful gowns for afternoon tea, dark, figure-hugging silks for formal dinners, lacy constructions for balls. Father would often secure a second carriage to ensure they could travel in comfort, without hat boxes at their feet and chests rattling above them.
Now, somehow, she managed to fit most of her worldly goods into one extremely well-worn case. She sighed and motioned for where Lucia should settle it. The spirit did so, then settled in a dark shadow to watch over her mistress. Anna opened the case and pulled out what she needed: Her writing kit and her dressing gown.
Downstairs, someone playing the part of a bard led a boisterous song in the round, encouraging patrons to join in, creating a hellish cacophony. It was a mélange of puns and overwrought metaphors, mostly about body parts and what one might do with them behind the cow shed. Anna sighed. “I really should teach you to sing, Lucia…”
The spirit’s voice rasped from the darkness. รђคɭɭ เ รเɭєภςє Շђє๓ คภ๏Շђєг ฬคץ, ๓เรՇгєรร?(In a creepy font) Shall I silence them another way, Mistress?
“No, no.” And Anna took out her journal. “After all, we might be forced to come this way again…” And she started to write.
✱✱✱
15 Gozran 4720 ~ Bullet and Barrel Saloon ~ North of Alkenstar
The visions did not lead us astray. We found our… brother? I’m still not certain what to call Lobo, but brother seems fairest. And, as the visions implied, we found Lenore as well, in good spirits as always, despite her predicament.
Where to begin…
I suppose, chronologically, Lobo makes the most sense. The poor thing… An orc, but unlike the rest of us, he wasn’t born with fangs. I’ll need to get the rest of his story out of him later, but from what I can gather, Lobo’s tribe attacked one of father’s estates as a youngling. Lobo ‘survived’, though some might debate that. Things became rather fuzzy in his retelling after that. He’s a man of spare words, which I suppose isn’t surprising, given that the rest of his rearing was left to literal wolves.
He came upon us. He’d been tracking us, which was convenient, though he did try to attack poor Chadwick. Fortunately, we discouraged him, though he was obviously distressed by us. In spite of this, we forged an alliance. The same dragon that took Lenore also killed his pack–
Oh. Drat. I just realized. He was speaking of wolves, wasn’t he? I had assumed he meant his Orc brethren… Ah, well, I’ll clear that up in the morning.
At any rate, we found Lenore on the top of a mountain, with dragons performing a ritual of some kind. Why the mountain was necessary, I’ll never know, but I need to shop for something that allows me to fly for more than ten minutes. Or at least teleport. My shoes are ruined.
We freed Lenore (of course), and discerned the ritual. It was for making a ravener… Fascinating. Terrifying, but more importantly… interesting.
✱✱✱
Years before…
Anna opened her eyes. She was on the floor, staring up at the ornate tin plate ceiling of her bedroom. Her head ached, as if she had been drinking. There had been something, something terrible—
She turned her head, and found her gaze locked with the dead solicitors. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, swallowing a scream. She looked around the room, well-lit in the midday sun. Besides the two of them, it was empty.
The wraith.
She forced herself to her feet. Her heart, normally sluggish, hammered in her chest. She stared hard at every shadow of the room, waiting for a dark form to step out of it. There were stories about a dark figure, a portent of death for their line. A woman, shrouded in night. She had always thought it an allegory, or some flight of fancy inserted later by those who survived the dead. It was a person they could blame for their extraordinarily bad luck when it came to clinging to life.
But she had seen it. And it had… it had left her alive.
Her eyes fell to the dead solicitor. He had been about to attack her. At his side was a pistol. She bent to retrieve it. Her father had taught her a few things about firearms, having been robbed of a son he might share with, so she knew how to check it. It was, indeed, loaded. He’d fully intended to kill her. And yet…
She shook her head. She didn’t have the time to think over the implications. Anna had a much more pressing issue at hand. Someone was trying to take her birthright… and she had a dead lawyer in her bedroom.
Drat. She really could have used Maizon for this.
She tapped her foot as a plan formed in her head. Normally, the bodies she dealt with were already dead, and their families were well aware of this fact. All they had to do was return the body to the grave in a timely manner. This one required a story, something that would give her plausible deniability. Even if it wasn’t her who broke his neck, she knew it wouldn’t take long for an investigation to turn up certain unfortunate truths that made her the most likely culprit.
She knelt, examining him. His neck… Perhaps a fall down some stairs? But then she might be accused of pushing him. No, she needed the blame fully off of her. She traced the bruising where the creature had grabbed him. Very much like an injury she’d seen a few times at the Acadamae…
She would have to work quickly. No one had come when she screamed, so the servants were occupied (she had her guesses). That wouldn’t last long, however. Eventually, the chambermaid would come asking about tea, or the butler would announce dinner. For a staff that was supposed to be invisible, they had a terrible habit of appearing at the worst possible moment.
She rifled through her bag and found a mossy green bottle. It held only a gulp of liquid, but that was all she needed. She uncapped it and drank the foul liquid in one gulp. She gasped, then swayed on her feet as she felt something inside her change. Though she couldn’t see the change, she could feel her muscles burn and harden as a newfound strength coursed through her body. She always kept one on hand, but it had been Maizon or Jace who had taken it when they needed heavy lifting done.
Anna forced herself to move. How long did the potion last? A few minutes, at best. Sometimes less. She grabbed the solicitor’s rapidly cooling body around his chest and lifted. The bulk was awkward, but his weight felt like little more than an overburdened backpack. She started to drag him…
In his room, she found a curtain tie that would do the job. Up through the rabbit hole, round the big tree; down through the rabbit hole and off goes he… She secured the rope around the man’s broken neck, threw the other end over one of the sturdier ceiling fixtures, and pulled…
He was only halfway up when she felt the potion start to fade. She gripped tighter, but the rope started to slip through her fingers, burning her skin. Distantly, she heard the sounds of someone moving below. If his body fell, it would be heard, and they would come, and they would find her in the middle of a cover-up, which was even worse, and–
A dark shadow reached from behind her and grabbed the rope. The air in the room grew cold, and it felt as if a window behind her had been opened during a blizzard. She knew the day was warm, though. She knew what was behind her. But she also knew what was at risk. Anna forced herself to speak, keeping her voice level.
“A bit higher, please.”
The hand yanked down, hard, undeath giving it a frightful amount of strength. Anna bent to secure the other end of the rope to the leg of a bureau, not wanting to waste the momentary truce. When she looked up again, she was alone once more, save for the body swinging from side to side above her.
Fascinating. Terrifying, but more importantly… interesting.
The rest of the ruse was easy to set up. She gently laid down a chair, then found some stationary from a set long-forgotten. She’d learned to do a half-decent forgery while at school (money only went so far, sometimes), so crafting a letter from a lover breaking it off only took a few minutes. She left it out, then returned to her room. The stage was set.
Time passed. The chambermaid finally materialized and asked Anna where she would prefer to take her tea. Anna didn’t even look up from her book. “In the blue room. And do ask our guest if he would join me. I have some questions about the estate.”
The young woman dipped into a passable curtsy, then padded off down the hall. A moment later, a blood curdling scream broke the crypt-like silence of the LeClerche estate.
✱✱✱
Anna startled as an icy hand landed on her shoulder. Her mind had drifted… Perhaps she had been asleep? Her pen had dropped from her hand, leaving an inky blot on the desk. It wasn’t the worst stain the table had suffered.
She felt Lucia’s presence behind her as it leaned in and spoke. ๒г๏Շђєг ςץՇ เร ๔๏ภє เภ Շђє ๒คՇђ, ๓เรՇгєรร.(In a creepy font) Brother Cyt is done in the bath, mistress. Anna looked down at her journal. Not complete, but close enough. She set it aside to fully dry. A bath was just what she needed.
Katie Plays Games 