Blackgrave

They made their way to the workshop, outside stood a Bryarsmen as guard.

“We're here to see Vassal Altera,” Gremmelt told him as they approached. The guard nodded and let them in through the gate.

Two Bryarsmen led them through the workshop. It resembled a blacksmith’s shop—in the corner near a forge, a large pile of copper ore was stacked high. Copper blades hung on the walls, and large crystal conductors were arranged around a table. Xhroma crystals were scattered around the room in various bins and bowls. Many of the blades were strange colors, some red, others yellow or blue. The workshop had a few Zenidition men in robes and aprons working around at the various stations. It was hot inside and a warm, bitter smell thickened the air around them. Ronso was intrigued and tried breaking away to examine one of the bright red blades hanging on the wall, but Lord Gremmelt pressed her forward with a firm hand.

“Save the curiosities for another time,” he told her.

She half frowned. “Fine. I didn’t care about these stupid colored blades anyway.”

The Brayersmen led them down a small hall with a few doors on both sides of it. One of them opened the furthest door on the left and inside was Vassal Altera, sitting at his desk and looking over paperwork. Bookshelves full of journals and ancient texts lined the walls, a large map of the area pin pointing several mines along the Wounded Peaks lay behind him, and an empty tea cup was pushed to the edge of the desk.

He raised his heavy eyes as they entered and asked, “Have you taken care of the spirit?”

“Not quite,” Lord Gremmel replied. “Though we have narrowed down a solution.”

“That’s some good news,” Vassal Altera replied. He brushed the paperwork aside and rubbed his brow. “Hopefully I’ll be able to get some rest once all this is done.” He let out a yawn he tried to subdue, but it broke through and he held it with a little stretch.

“Yes.” Lord Gremmelt slowly paced around the room, his shield on his left arm, and his mace on his belt. He had been in this position many times before. “We think the spirit is that of a Crow Clan woman who lived in this town.”

“Is that so?” Vassal Altera replied. “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the Crow Clan’s doing.”

“We found a body. It's hidden away in a fallen tree. Seems like a little caged bird found her way into the water.” Lord Gremmelt looked down at Altera. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”

Altera timidly looked up from his desk. “A caged bird?” His tired face quickly changed into a more serious one and he asked, “What is that?”

“An interesting expression we’ve come across in our investigation.” Lord Gremmelt stopped moving and was now directly in front of Altera’s desk, staring him down. “The Crow Clan in town all seem to think this little caged bird is the spirit, and the one to blame is you.”

“Me?” Vassal Altera rose from his seat and folded his arms. “I don’t see how any of this could be my fault.”

Altera’s face flicked with anger. “I will hear nothing of it. Those savages are just trying to trick you,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“Tell me, Vassal Altera,” Lord Gremmelt replied. “Does the name Vasha mean anything to you?” Vassal Altera tried to withhold his shock, but Gremmelt saw the slight tinge in his face, and Altera knew he saw it too.

“Yes,” he said hesitantly. “She disappeared sometime around the end of Misery.” Altera’s gaze fell to the floor, determined not to meet Gremmelt’s steadfast gaze.

“And did you have your men search for her?” Lord Gremmelt shrugged his shoulders. “After all, she was with child, nearly ready to pop, from what we were told.” Tension was building in the room, and panic was plastered all over Altera’s face.

“Wellers organized some Bryarysmen to search for her, but he found no trace. We thought she just skipped town. There are other villages with clanfolk not far from here. Nothing strange about getting a change of scenery,” Lord Altera replied as he wiped his sweaty brow.

“A pregnant woman took off on the road by herself in the middle of the night?” Gremmelt folded his arms. “That’d be dangerous for anyone in these parts.”

“No one said she was the brightest of girls in the village,” Altera replied.

“Is that how you like them, then?” Ronso butted in.

“Enough of all of this,” Altera said indignantly. He had all he could take of their questions and was unable to contain his anger. “You're here to kill a spirit. Nothing more. Tell me more of this solution.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Lord Gremmelt tapped on Altera’s desk. “We have reason to believe the easiest way to rid Sossaboro from the spirit would be to allow her to take vengeance on the one who drowned her.” Lord Gremmelt took on a serious tone. He, like Altera, was quite tired of the back and forth.

“Now, that is preposterous. Give the spirit a life to make her stop? She’s already had eight others! No. That solution is madness. What else?” Altera asked. Lord Gremmelt slammed his fist on the desk and Altera jumped.

“Damn it, Altera!” he shouted. “I know what you did.” Lord Gremmelt locked eyes with the timid Vassal. “Why don’t you just do us all a favor and admit it.”

The room hung in silence for a few moments as Altera shifted his gaze from the Witch Hunters to the Bryarsmen and stood up.

“All of you out,” he told the Bryarsmen. “Your men too, Lord Gremmelt,” he said with a snap of assertiveness. “We shall discuss this alone.”

The two Bryarsmen immediately left.

“Wait outside,” Lord Gremmelt told the others. Everyone followed along, besides Kangee.

“No,” he told Gremmelt defiantly. “I do not take orders from him.”

“The order comes from me,” Lord Gremmelt replied with a cold gaze. Kangee stared into Gremmelt and the two held their ground for several moments. Behind his desk, Altera’s knee’s wobbled as he caught the murderous look in Kangee’s eyes.

“Understood,” Kangee replied before he left and slammed the door. Now alone, Altera sat back down and folded his hands in front of him.

“Speak freely,” Gremmelt told him. “Let no secret remain.” He pulled out his pipe and began to pack it with a green herb.

“Vasha was different from the others,” Altera said somberly. “Both beautiful and intelligent— she could even speak some Elven.” Altera rubbed at his eyes. “But she was with child.”

Shame fell on Altera’s face and he stiffened his brow to hide it. “I couldn’t have my child’s blood be muddied with savages.”

“I was hesitant at first— naive, if you will,” Altera took a slow deep breath. “Had I taken a Blackfeather wife, Lord Bryar would have replaced me in an instant. And if he found out I was to father such a child…”

Altera slowly shook his head. “I did what I had to. When she came to tell me she would be leaving town if I would not take her as a wife, I snapped.” He reached down at his belt and grabbed a thin dagger.

“I stabbed her to silence her. And when she still drew breath, I had Captain Wellers drown her in the swamps.” His head fell to the table. “We thought her body would float back by morning and we could blame bandits, but it never did.”

Altera lifted his head and brought up his hands. “That's the truth of it, I swear.”

“And that's the last you saw of the body?” Lord Gremmelt asked.

“Yes,” Altera replied.

“Well, Altera, if it were up to my men,” Gremmelt placed his hand firmly on Altera’s head. “We would pull you to those swamps at night by your hair, and when the mist finally arrived, we would toss you to Vasha so she could have her vengeance.”

Gremmelt laughed while rocking Altera’s head back and forth. “It would be simple enough. You are who she wants.” He removed his hand from Altera’s trembling skull. “You and maybe Captain Wellers. Might explain why she only targets Bryarsmen.”

“There must be another way,” Altera pleaded. “Please, I beg you, I don’t want to die.”

“You should have thought of that before you did what you did to poor Vasha.” Lord Gremmelt stared down at Altera. Altera averted his eyes and tried to hide the tears they were forming.

“An honorable man would give himself to the spirit for his people, but an honorable man would never find himself in this situation to begin with, so I don’t expect that to happen.” Lord Gremmelt moved away from the desk and towards the door. “We’ll be needing three canoes.”

“Of course,” Altera replied. “Anything you need to rid us of this spirit is at your disposal.”

“Good,” Lord Gremmelt said as he made his way to the door. “One last thing,” he turned back towards Altera before he left. “Once this is over, Conero goes free. It is only right.”

“Fine,” Altera wiped his face with his sleeve. “But he can’t stay in town. He knows what I did to Vasha and if he remains he might cause problems for me down the road.”

“We will take him from town, but I’ll make no promise he won’t return,” Lord Gremmelt said. “We’ll speak more once this spirit is taken care of.” Gremmelt left the workshop and joined the others outside.

“Well?” Ronso said as Gremmelt stepped out. “Did the bastard admit it?” Lord Gremmelt nodded.

“He confirmed your suspicions,” Gremmelt said to Ronso.

“And of our brothers?” Ra'Selas asked.

“I didn’t press him,” Lord Gremmelt replied. “It's likely he played a part in their deaths, but the only evidence we have is a stab wound beneath their arms.”

“Evidence?” Kangee questioned. “Let me in there. I will bring him out and throw him into the swamps myself.”

Gremmelt shook his head. “No, Kangee. That man is this town’s leader. He oversees the factory, the finances, as well as any logistics needed. If he is gone, he will just be replaced by someone else. Someone possibly even more cruel than he. The townsfolk have suffered enough. No sense throwing them to Chaos just to satisfy vengeance. Perhaps he will learn from this mistake and the town can grow.”

“What’s our next move?” Naja asked.

“We know where the body is. We have to retrieve it and bring it to dry land. Once we get it ashore we will burn it,” Lord Gremmelt replied.

“What about the spirit of the child? The young boy I spoke to mentioned he followed crying. Do you think it will cause us any problems?” Akecheta asked.

“Hard to say,” Lord Gremmelt replied. “The mother and baby were connected by an umbilical cord, correct?”

Akecheta nodded.

“My gut tells me the baby will protect the mother. We’ll burn them both. We just have to hope we can get the body out without any resistance.” Lord Gremmelt led the others to the docks where there were two Bryarsmen standing by some canoes. “I take it Vassal Altera has explained what we needed?”

“Yes, Lord Gremmelt,” replied one. “These three here are for you.” He motioned to three canoes at the end of the port all tied to the same post.

“Very good,” Gremmelt said before sending the Bryarsmen away. It was past midday and the sun would set in a few hours.

“We know the spirit only attacks at night,” Lord Gremmelt said. “So, we will set out before darkness holds dominion.”

“We’re going to fight it?” Ra'Selas asked.

“Not if we don’t have to,” Lord Gremmelt replied. “The spirits only exist because someone forced them into our world. Altera may have killed the woman, but those symbols didn’t get carved into them by accident. There must have been a witch here at some point or another.”

“You don’t think it was someone from the Crow Clan here in town?” Kangee asked.

“No. I did at first, but the more I have thought of it, the less that seems likely,” Lord Gremmelt folded his arms. “The hex bag, the werewolves, and the symbols of Misery and Chaos carved into them. All of it smells like a witch. The barman at Eddlesreef said Benard brought up that coven. The Daughters of Chaos.”

He scratched at his chin. “Benard must have found clues that led him to believe the coven was involved, maybe even his sister. That’s the only explanation I can think of as to why he would try to fight the spirit and not leave once Rupert and Divas were slain.”

“If the spirits are born of Arcane, could we not simply dispel it?” Naja asked.

“You think we have the power to dispel something created by a Witch of Chaos?” Ra'Selas asked. The two of them were both adept at using rituals; having already possessed an Arcane touch from their Zendition blood, magic came naturally to them.

“Maybe not alone,” she replied. “But what if you, me, and Lord Gremmelt all tried at once?” A flash of interest struck Gremmelts face.

“Now that is a clever idea,” he replied in a pleased tone. “Suppose we prepare our scrolls out here, then we paddle out to the log until we are right beside it. Then we drop the blood, say the incantation all at once, and pray to Fate that is what she has designed.”

Lord Gremmelt nodded his head. “It could work, but we don’t know what exactly either spirit can do. Attacks have only happened at night, and only the Crow Clan have seen anything, but I assume they won’t give us the details. It’s going to be dangerous.”

“We have plenty of salt,” Akecheta replied. “While we draw close, Kangee, Ronso, and I will toss salt all around in hopes it drives the spirit back.”

“Will that really work?” Ronso asked.

“Salt and iron have been the standard weapon to combat spirits in the past, I don’t see why these spirits would be any different,” Akecheta replied.

“Most spirits aren't brought up in this fashion,” Lord Gremmelt said. “Before we paddle out, let's have our salt blessed by the Speaker. If they are of Chaos and Misery, we shall ask for a blessing in Fate and Providence.”