The Homunculus Knight

Chapter 21- Soaking the Soul

“It takes a lot to get the Gods to renounce their protection. You have to well and truly Jag something up for them to turn their backs on you. Murder, Rape, Torture, that sort of nastiness, and once you’ve lost the Pantheon's support, death becomes a whole lot scarier. Suddenly you don’t have a cushy reincarnation or even an Anointment to look forward to. Instead, your soul is left out in the cold, looking nice and juicy for any hungry Demon. At that point, lots of options that once seemed unthinkable get thinked about.” - Mak Murtrey, Rest-Bringer. On the topic of why people pursue Undeath.

The mood in the Silly Goat when Cole returned was grim. Wilhelm and Barnabas were caught in a tense conversation, and barely acknowledged Cole’s arrival. Wilhelm just nodded at the big man and Barnabas gave a half-lidded glare. Natalie was over by the fire, a worried look on her face.

Frowning, Cole went over to her and asked. “What’s wrong? What happened while I was gone?”

Natalie looked up at Cole, a weak smile on her face. “A Dayman paid us a visit. He wanted information about you.”

A frown contorted Cole’s many scars as he looked Natalie over, noticing the slight bruising on her left hand. “Did he hurt you?”

From behind the bar, Wilhelm let out a slow breath. The fact Cole’s first words were about his daughter's safety made the man feel marginally better about this whole situation. From what the innkeeper had seen, Cole was what he claimed to be. Barnabas, by contrast, felt no relief or anything remotely positive. He’d watched his adopted niece come down the stairs with uncertain fear in her eyes shortly after he’d seen the content cruelty in the Dayman’s face. Cole had put Natalie in the eyes of a predator, and despite Natalie’s insistence she was alright, Barnabas was furious she’d gotten involved with this mess.

Natalie gave a weak smile and shrugged. “I’ll be alright. Bully’s like that bastard enjoy throwing their weight around. Especially when they aren’t getting what they want. I didn't tell him anything useful; weirdly enough, all he wanted to know was your religion.”

Cole winced and sighed, “Natalie, for my own sanity and your security, please focus on surviving a situation like that and worry less about what information you might give.”

Natalie’s smile strengthened at his words and she changed the topic. “I take it went well with Trude?”

It was Cole’s turn to grin. “I guess you can say that. She’s making me new clothes and didn’t strangle me with her measuring rope.”

That got a soft laugh from Natalie, and she glanced over both of them, seeing how incredibly disheveled and grimy they both were. Cole had the worst of it, covered in dried blood and dirt, but they both needed to wash up.

Despite Cole’s condition, Natalie intended to take a woman’s prerogative and bathe first. “I’m going to get a bath and wash the Lungu off of me. I’ll heat up extra water so you can clean yourself up as well.”

With those words, Natalie limped up the stairs and left Cole with Wilhelm and Barnabas. Cole set himself down on a bench, and the three men sat in silence. Several different ideas to break the tension flitted through Cole’s mind, but none of them seemed particularly good. Wilhelm instead broke the silence.

“The thing that killed Filip’s sister, you really destroyed it?” A mixture of worry, surprise, and a hint of awe touched the innkeeper's voice.

Nodding in affirmation, Cole looked down to see a familiar feline rubbing herself against his legs. He reached down and scratched Stockings behind the ears as he elaborated. “It was a Walking Charnel, an Undead created by Lungu’s destruction. I destroyed it and took care of its remains.”

Now it was Barnabas’s turn to talk. “Natalie explained that, but she didn’t share details. How in the Pantheon’s name did you beat something like that?”

Quirking his lips in a smile, Cole fished out the Spark-Stone from his pack and held it out for Barnabas to see. “With your help, actually Barnabas. I combined this with a few of my own tricks to burn the Rattler to full-death.”

The silence returned, this time it hung around for a full minute before Barnabas broke it with a curse. “Jag me, you're telling me you used that dinky little magical knick-knack to destroy an avalanche of bone?”

Again Cole nodded and spoke. “With difficulty”

Those words,backed by the collection of injuries covering Cole, produced an air of tension he hadn’t meant to create. Both older men glanced back between each other, but this time, no one broke the silence, and the three men slowly returned to their tasks. Wilhelm gathered up ingredients for that night's dinner. Barnabas looked over a ledger and grumbled to himself. While Cole played with the Cat.

Cole liked Cats, and for the most part, they liked him; or at least they didn’t dislike him. Dogs hated Cole on principle, his smell or, more accurately, lack of one distressed them, and most livestock or beasts of burden got jittery around him. Cole wondered if he spent so much time immersed in death that sheep and the like could sense it on him instinctually. Horses, in particular, avoided Cole, and even the most placid nag could be counted to buck him off if he tried to ride her. Yet Cats seemed wonderfully indifferent to Cole’s peculiarities and would gladly accept his affection.

Eventually, Natalie returned, clad in a clean dress and looking incredibly refreshed. The young woman entered the tavern, and her presence instantly dissipated some of the tension in the room. She noticed this and took a moment to consider its implications. Even her father and Barnabas were nervous around Cole, something that didn’t portend anything good for her plans. Natalie needed to find a way to get people to trust or at least not be afraid of Cole. She had some ideas, but for any of them to work, she needed to have Cole not look like a leper who’d been run over by a horse-drawn cart.

“The bath is ready, plenty of hot water for you. So go get yourself cleaned off while I scavenge up some bandages for you,” said Natalie.

Cole was hunched over on a bench playing with Stockings. He started to thank her as he looked up to see the young woman and his words stopped mid-sentence. Natalie had changed and wore a very flattering dress. Its skirts were voluminous and multi-layered, typical for the cold climate of Glockmire. While an expertly tailored blouse covered her torsos. The flowing sleeves contrasting with the of the bodice which hugged Natalie’s generous curves. Cole felt a momentary stab of embarrassment as he realized his eyes had lingered a second too long on her bust. Aside from the dress, Natalie also wore red lipstick and a hint of blush that contrasted wonderfully with her pale skin. Left momentarily speechless, Cole tried to find words as Natalie flashed him an amused smile and remarked.

“I take it you like my outfit?” Natalie twirled in a circle, letting her skirt flare out. “We need to make a good presentation tonight if we’re going to win any hearts and minds.”

Cole nodded dumbly and continued trying to find words before settling on “You… look nice.” That got a knowing smile from Natalie as she leaned forward and grabbed Cole’s arm. She pulled the large man to his feet and guided him towards the staircase. Acquiescing to her will, Cole let Natalie guide him. His eyes locked firmly forward to avoid embarrassing himself again.

They arrived at the washroom and the large tub of warm water Natalie had prepared. A heavy floral smell filled the room, a mixture of lily and rosewater. Expensive scents, especially for a town like Glockmire.

“These are expensive perfumes? How did you manage to get them?” remarked Cole as he glanced around the bathroom. Aside from the tub, there was a pile of clean towels and a stack of soaps.

Natalie smiled at his words. “Perks of knowing Barnabas. He always lets me get the first pick of his ‘feminine stock,’ as the old codger calls it. Speaking of, the Rosewater extract is off-limits, but the rest of my supply is open to you. “

Cole nodded in understanding and glanced back at Natalie. He found to his chagrin that his eyes were drawn to less than gentlemanly places. She had her hips cocked at a proactive angle and held her arms to accentuate her bust. A wide, almost amused smile colored Natalie’s face, and Cole realized that she was flirting with him and was also enjoying seeing him become flustered.

As this realization set in, Cole did something rather out of character. He acted impulsively. Cole still had no idea what his feelings were related to Natalie, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t return the favor and try to fluster her a bit. Going over to the tub, Cole stripped off his shirt as casually as possible and reached down to test the water. As he did, he asked a question.

“So what exactly is the story behind Barnabas? You’re not blood-related, but he seems to be family?”

Natalie took a moment to respond, trying to not gawk at Cole’s scarred back. His toned muscles had the type of masculine perfection only seen in statues and the fantasies of hormonal youths. But like the rest of him, it was marred by a stratum of scars. In particular, the middle of his back held a ragged series of gashes forming a nearly unbroken stretch of tattered skin. Natalie didn’t know for certain but she thought they might be the marks of a lash. Any arousal at the moment was quickly quashed by the visceral horror those marks spoke to.

Catching herself and looking away, Natalie answered. “Barnabas got his start as a merchant largely thanks to a loan from my Grandfather. He paid it back and continued to be a good customer and eventual friend to my Father. Dad views Barnabas as an older brother since he didn’t have any siblings, and Barnabas helped keep him out of trouble when they were both young. They were actually each other's Best Men at each other's weddings. Speaking of, I’m fairly certain Barnabas introduced my parents to each other. My Mom came to town in one of the Trade Caravan’s Barnabas used to organize.”

The water was a perfect temperature, and Cole let it warm his hands as he asked. “Your Mother wasn’t native to Glockmire?”

Turning away from Cole, half worried he was about to drop his pants and climb into the tub, Natalie answered. “Yes, she came from the south. Don’t ask me from where, though. She never told me.”

To her surprise and shock, Natalie heard the sound of rustling cloth and a splash of water as Cole disrobed and entered the Tub. Utterly stunned, Natalie whirled around to see Cole submerged up to his neck in the warm water. Turning beet-red, Natalie stammered over her words as she started to repudiate Cole for his crass behavior. She stopped when a knowing grin cracked on Cole’s face. “Two can play at your game Nat,” he remarked.

Natalie let out a sound that mixed a squeak of surprise, a huff of annoyance, and a snort of laughter. Picking up one of the hand towels sitting nearby, she wetted it and whipped it at Cole’s face. The wet cloth made a satisfying sound as it hit Cole. Grunting in surprise, he pulled it away to see Natalie leaning over him, a curious expression on her face. For a moment, they stared at each other, faces shockingly close. Neither moved, and eventually, Natalie sighed and turned to leave the room. Before she left, Natalie remarked. “If you wanted to kiss me then that would have been the moment.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and Cole was left alone in the Bathroom. Her words and his own actions left Cole momentarily stunned. Slumping back into the tub Cole shut his eyes and took a deep breath. What were his intentions with Natalie? She was beautiful, clever, and so damn alive! She enraptured Cole, calling out to him like a fire on a cold day. Yet he had obligations and problems aplenty. Pursuing romance with Natalie seemed an incredibly stupid idea, especially since Cole knew who his heart belonged to.

Reaching up with a wet hand, Cole massaged the bite marks on his neck and remembered their source. Many came from nights of cool lips on his skin and laughter shared between lovers. Others came from later times when his love was dead, and he was chained and drained to the point of death over and over and over.

Shaking away those memories, Cole stared up at the ceiling for a little while. He couldn’t have a future with Natalie, no matter what part of him wanted. While having a tryst with her seemed unfair to both of them. The matter was further complicated by the shade clinging to Isabelle’s skull. The woman he loved was dead, but that could change. A possibility that put him on this path and that still haunted him.

Dunking himself under the water to clear his thoughts, Cole started cleaning himself. Washing off the ash, dried blood, sweat, and filth, Cole grabbed one of the more bland soaps from Natalie’s pile and was glad his hair had been burnt to virtually nothing, saving him from having to decipher which of the glass bottles contained an appropriate hair soap. The soap stung Cole’s wounds, purging them of any infection and leaving a painful burning in its wake. Despite the near-constant stings of pain from his myriad cuts, Cole found himself enjoying the respite provided by a bath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d properly bathed. His lifestyle kept him on the road for weeks at a time, and his lack of a natural odor made going such lengths without washing feasible, if not particularly pleasant.

As he finished up, Cole looked down at his injuries and made an unpleasant decision. He was standing and capable of walking about largely thanks to his own pain tolerance and sheer bloody-mindedness. If something happened, he wouldn’t be fast or strong enough to help. So while he healed a little quicker than most, thanks to his atypical origin and blood magic. It wouldn’t be nearly enough.

Sighing, Cole leaned back in the tub and let its water cover him fully. Eyes shut and trying to relax, Cole exhaled. A stream of bubbles flowed up from his mouth until nothing was left in his lungs. Injured and tired, Cole quickly felt the burn of suffocation in the water. He did his best to ignore it and focused on his duty. People needed his help and he had a task to fulfill, nothing would stop him, no matter how much pain he had to experience. The burn in his lungs turned into an ugly fire, and Cole resisted the urge to draw breath and inhale in soapy water. A normal man would have pulled himself free at this point, instinct overwhelming any desire. But Cole had never been normal, nor ever truly a man.

Darkness crept up on Cole. Even with his eyes closed, he could tell it was coming. A slowly shrinking aperture devouring the murky shadows hidden by his eyelids. Flickers of faces he’d known crossed his mind in those moments. Old friends, long since dead, hated enemies who yet survived, and new connections that might be saved. As the darkness took him in totality, Cole found himself smiling. He could help these people, and if he needed to drown himself in the process, he’d do it. After all, there were worse ways to die; Cole knew that for a fact.

Natalie shut the door to the Bath and buried her face in her hands. A mixture of embarrassment, anger, and confusion warred within her. Letting out an aggravated sigh, she went to her room and found her carving tools. Grumbling to herself, Natalie sat down and continued working on the Cat statue she’d started the night Cole arrived. After a few minutes of unsuccessful artistry, Natalie set the unfinished statue down and went to grab a fresh piece of wood. She kept a small bundle of choice bits of scrap wood in her room. Not large enough for a proper statue but wasted as kindling, Natalie kept the wood to practice and experiment with.

Getting comfortable again, Natalie started etching a scene into a piece of wood. Carving a stylized representation of Cole fighting the Walking Charnel. Jagged scratches became piles of bone, and smooth flowing cuts started to resemble Cole. His now ruined cloak billowing in the wind and his halberd held high. Natalie stared at the forming image and realized her attempts to distract herself from what just happened with Cole were failing miserably.

Natalie had planned to take a slow and steady approach with Cole. That had fallen apart when she saw him getting flustered about her dress. Seeing such a confident and strong man stutter and blush at her appearance was extremely cute and incredibly endearing. So Natalie had let passion rule, and for a brief moment, it seemed like Cole had as well. Then that moment had withered, with neither making the next move. Leaving Natalie both embarrassed and infuriated at both herself and Cole.

Realizing stalling and worrying were doing little to help her. Natalie kept working on the carving of Cole facing the Charnel. If nothing else, it helped her practice this type of woodworking. She preferred traditional sculpture, but carving images had some appeal. An hour passed by while working on the piece, and Natalie found herself making surprising progress with the carving. Having finished the basic outline she started adding more detail to the piece. A soft knock at her bedroom door pulled Natalie from the creative flow and forced her to get up and answer it.

To her surprise, it was not Wilhelm at the door but Cole. Natalie looked up at the freshly-cleaned man and was surprised by what she saw. Cole looked better, a lot better than he had just an hour ago. It was not just the fresh clothes and lack of grime. He stood taller and lacked the gaunt weariness she’d seen in him earlier. Cole also changed his bandages but not replaced all of them. Some of his visible injuries were reduced to drying scabs and fading bruises. The only thing about Cole that wasn’t notably approved were his eyes. They had a haunted pained expression, which quickly vanished at her presence. Hidden under a nervous-looking smile and whatever words he had planned.

Holding up a hand to silence him, Natalie spoke instead. “We both let ourselves get carried away. People do stupid things after surviving a near-death experience. Let's both agree not to discuss it and see where this goes naturally.”

Cole’s smile died a quick death, and he nodded in agreement. Natalie thought she saw some hesitancy and confusion in his face but couldn’t tell for certain. Centering herself and getting back to business, Natalie steered the conversation in a different direction.

“I’ve been thinking about where we might want to start looking for ritual sites. There are a few good possibilities, and I wanted to run them by you.”

Natalie pushed past Cole’s large frame in the doorway and started moving downstairs. Turning back to him, she continued. “I want to demystify you, and I think having you work in the Silly Goat proper instead of your room would help that. Grab your maps while I set up a space.”

Shrugging in resignation, Cole did as she asked and met Natalie down at a table she’d cleared off. Looking around the tavern, Cole noticed Barnabas was gone, and Wilhelm was eyeing the pair of them with a level of guarded concern. Cole nodded to Wilhelm, and the normally jovial man barely jerked his head in response. Wincing internally, Cole turned back to the problem at hand.

The large map Barnabas sold Cole was soon spread out on the table, kept flat by some repurposed mugs. Natalie had gotten a pencil and marked out a spot on the map already. As she finished, Natalie gestured for Cole to look. She’d marked a point not far from Glockmire, a seemingly random spot out in the middle of a nearby forest. Farther away than the Vryko-Ghouls had been, but in roughly the same direction.

“There is some old stonework in this area, remnants of a building, I’ve been told. Hunters avoid it at night because they’ve seen will-o-wisps there. About a year ago, one of my friends bragged her husband had explored the ruin. She said he said that the place felt wrong and swore he was being watched the entire time. Dorin is a well-respected hunter in these parts and a pretty reserved guy. He only confirmed what Gabi said and seemed uncomfortable even thinking about it. So my guess is the place is haunted and what we should be looking for.”

Natalie’s words just hung in the air for a moment, and Cole finally asked something he’d been wondering about for a while now. “How do you know all of this? It’s a very large amount of information, and you just seem to have it all on demand.”

Looking away in embarrassment, Natalie answered plainly. “I’m a Barmaid in a small town. Knowing gossip and people is as much my job as serving drinks.”

Cole shook his head as if to dismiss her excuse. “No, the detail is extraordinary. It's really impressive you can keep this all straight and know it with such detail.”

That got a smile from Natalie, and she perked up a little bit. Her momentary abashedness fading. Whenever Natalie had demonstrated this knack of hers before, it had earned her derision as a gossipy hen with too much time on her hands. People reacted like she must spend hours memorizing and pouring over the minutiae of other people's lives. When in truth, if she heard something, it just often stuck. Added to an ever-growing web of connections inside her mind. Natalie had worried Cole would have a similar reaction once he started to pick up exactly how much she knew about people. His reaction soothed her, and to Natalie's annoyance and joy, her heart slightly fluttered.

“This ruin seems like a decent place to start looking. It could be haunted, and if it's not, I won’t waste much time there. I’ll leave tomorrow to investigate.” continued Cole, oblivious to the flurry of thoughts and feelings working through Natalie.

Cocking an eyebrow in surprise, Natalie started to ask about his injuries, but the words died quickly. Her initial shock at his improved condition had been buried under earlier awkwardness and her later attempts to distract them both with work. Narrowing her eyes, Natalie looked Cole up and down thrice before stepping closer and rasping the disturbing question. “How are you already healed? You seemed half dead just two hours ago, and now you seem fine?”

Glancing away from Natalie’s accusatory glare, Cole toed the line between misdirection and lies. Something that made him profoundly uncomfortable but was still necessary. Even with his growing bond with Natalie, some secrets still needed to be kept.

“There are benefits to being a servant of Master Time. I ask you not to pry into them. Those matters are… unpleasant sometimes.”

That seemed to be enough for Natalie, and she dropped the question and replaced it with another. “You said ‘you’ will investigate. Am I not accompanying you?”

Cole was almost glad to have her turn to something equally accusatory but easier to manage.

“I’m not trying to lock you out, Natalie. That path failed and is now impossible. While I thought I could protect you from the Walking Charnel, that almost went catastrophically bad. I would not have similar hopes if I were to deal with a powerful Wraith. That kind of Undead can be extremely dangerous for the unprepared.

Digesting that, Natalie looked like she was about to argue, but she decided against it. Instead, she sighed in resignation and asked. “Please tell me what happened when you get back. I’m curious to see if Gabi and Dorin were right.”

Cole accepted Natalie’s request easily. “Of course. Now I have a few questions of my own. Like why are you dressed up, and why do I need to make a good impression?”

Flashing a toothy grin, Natalie seemed to relish her next words. “I’m fulfilling my part of our deal. I’m going to get the people of this town to agree to your help, and I intend to do that with style. We will flaunt your heroic deeds tonight and win some hearts and minds.”

Confusion at her words started to fade, instead replaced by worry as Cole began to understand exactly what Natalie had in mind. She wanted the heavily scarred and socially-obtuse vagabond warrior to play the social game of Glockmire. At best, Cole could be a polite stonewall, evading all questions thrown his way. At worst, he could be honest and actually answer with utterly terrifying detail. Natalie had proven herself to be far more clever and open-minded than what you’d expect in a town like Glockmire, and Cole had managed to alienate or disturb her on multiple occasions.

Natalie could visibly see the dawning horror in Cole’s face. His already pale skin \seemed to lose another shade or two, rendering him alabaster white. While his eyes had widened in disbelief. Natalie didn’t let Cole stew in his worry and elaborated on her plan.

“I can guess what you are thinking. Yes, social morays and polite conversation are not your strong suit. Which is why you will have me to help you tonight. I’ll be at your side to interpret, aid, and explain away any missteps.”

Looking into Cole’s eyes, Natalie let a bit of her bravado drop and spoke plainly with the type of sincerity only used when asking for trust. “I know these people, Cole, and I know how to make them like you. I trusted you when we went into a monster's lair. So trust me when we’re on my home territory.”

Those words broke through Cole's worry, and he shut his eyes. Letting out a deep breath, he understood the truth of Natalie’s argument and agreed. “Alright, I will put my trust in you, Nat.”