Lordling (Vizierdrake)

[Marsis]

"I have said to consider this option if the circumstances are favorable. I believe you know me enough to know I am nothing of a a daredevil, dear sister. I also hope you are mature enough to not take chivalry tales and chronicles too literally. Hidden behind lines of spears and swords fighting in your name, blood of high rank is way less spilled than commoners'. Admittedly that doesn't sound like the most honorable way of leading the fight, but I find reasonable to think that the story is more often told by the survivors than by those who met a prestigious death." As is his custom, Meleagan was willingly being a rather provoking. While ironizing with a slight smirk in corner of the mouth, believing a good part of these cynical words, he still had a more nuanced idea of the question. Nowadays, being known as a coward could lead to a more symbolic death. An unglory name was a dead name.

"Why of course I remember ! The swordsmanship I've managed to gather is so meager, it'd be a shame if even that I couldn't remember." Wittiness aside, it was true the lordling could use some reminders. He probably won't have the time for that with Nyren before the latter leaves though.
Meleagan walked around the table towards Moonei and looked down at her with his indecipherable face.

"Don't tell me... you, lady Moonei Vizierdrake, are worried about me ?" The somewhat playful smirk would eventually once again bend his lips.

 

[Lorsh]

"You are the bloodline," Moonei shrugs. "That is a very good reason to worry about you, my lord. Anyhow... yes, yes. I'd warrant, if I were to merely try, I could become a dashing shield sister, just like those tales from old Aedor. But I think I will allow our household's brave warriors to take most of the glory," she chuckles. "I was thinking earlier today. We do not have very many archers... How are we supposed to slay those ghastly... ghouls... at a distance? Or is that even on the table?" She thinks for a moment. "All of our archers are staying behind at the castle I suppose, where they can shoot from the walls- are they more useful here anyway?"

 

[Marsis]

Meleagan considers the option a few instants before shaking his head. "There aren't so many ways to deal with these ghouls. To get rid of them for good, what we've found so far is burning them down to ashes or obliterate their heads. Otherwise, to at least neutralize them, decapitaion does the trick, one just needs to be careful not to get biten. Now, I don't really see how archers could be of actual use against such foes. Surely we can use flamed arrows, but nothing tells if the monster will actually catch fire to the point of being destroyed. Maybe a single dart piercing through the skull could be enough ? I doubt so, but it'd be worthy to test it out. Though even if it does, it'd mean that only shots in the head are meaningful. What a waste of ammo it'd be in actual battle conditions... Honestly, I think the only efficient way to fight the ghouls at a distance, is to throw literal boulders right into them. And unless you've hidden it somewhere, we do not own any trebuchet, not even a catapult."

 

[Lorsh]

Moonei's face tightens slightly as you inform her of the specifics concerning ghoulslaying... you had taken the strange hog into the gaols earlier, so she takes your word on it. "The slaying of these unholy creatures is more difficult than I originally thought, I suppose... Maybe using a crossbow would be of more use than a regular bow? You could shoot one of the beasts in the head- send a quarrel through the eye. Though... even though they are quite easy to use, one probably must first become a skilled crossbowman in order to pull such a feat off..." She chuckles. "Hopefully those vagabonds you hired know what they are doing, in case Sir Nyren gets in trouble."

 

[Marsis]

The lordling sighs and shrugs "I fear we're left with hopes, these are mercenaries, maybe they are skilled veterants, though they could as well be mere bandits. At least if they don't last too long we could put these crossbows to better uses."

Meleagan huffs, arms crossed and thoughtful gaze lowered "If nothing goes dramatically wrong, we should be able to eventually do without the 'help' of that kind of person. If the situation we're in is going to last, the fastest do we build an actual army, the best chances we will have. Hopefully for prosperity, at least for survival."

 

[Lorsh]

Moonei nods. "The religious part of me says that not very many people will be prospering nowadays," she murmurs. "Unless, of course, you are the Emmortal Esquire." This referred to a particular old prophesy; in the holy scriptures, a champion of Paragon would one day descend from the Hallowed Realm and manifest itself in the form of a great hero during mankind's hour of need, be it against the magical malevolence of Arcana, or the Yawning Chasm of the Abyss.

Moonei abruptly stands up from her chair and hiccups slightly. "I will be off to check on mother. Best of luck..."

 

[Marsis]

Meleagan nods, not really paying attention to his sister's religious remark. It'd be the proof that the Paragon has a good sense of humor. And the cynical lordling was very doubtful about that. Too bad besides, because he'd probably be more keen on worshipping such a deity. He lets his sister head out, and after meditating a few mnutes on this conversation went to his own quarters.

The hog's head should be here in a cage, as he ordered the gaols keeper.

 

[Lorsh]

You return to your quarters and view the decapitated pig once again, and see that not much has changed... There are three flies buzzing about, occasionally landing on the milky white eyes of the creature. Occasionally, it winks when this happens. Otherwise, it does not blink, simply moving its barely animated tongue to lick the bars of the cage. It emits a vile, pungent, cadaverous smell that seems like it nearly clings to the room.

 

[Marsis]

Meleagan's nose twitch at the smell of that vile pestilence and he wince, bringing the left palm to cover the lower half of his face. What a briliant idea he had... hopefully that won't stay for too long. And now that this is done, better make use of the opportunity. The lordling approaches the abomination, observes it a moment, and takes a thin fire iron.

In all likelihood, as its reaction to the flies seemed to show, the head still was capable of perception. Meleagan, improvizing himself as erudite, taps the iron on the left of the cage, the on the opposite side, trying to see if it reacts to sound. He then tries approaching the sharp point of the tool very close to the blank eye of the ghoul, trying to see if it still has the ability to see. Finally, Meleagan lays the iron in the fireplace, enough time for the tip to be burning, and approaches it to the face of the ghoul, then pressing the tip against its skin, to see how receptive it is to heat. Finally, he would penetrate the burning pike into the flesh of the pork's snout, to test its pain sense and reflex.

 

[Lorsh]

You notice some minuscule movements in the ghoulified pig head when you tap the poker on the side of the cage, but there barely seems to be a reaction when the iron point is leveled towards it... The hog's eye, despite being open, seems dead and clouded, as if it could barely detect the sharp, imminent threat in front of it. Though, shortly after you walked in, the hog seemed to go from being dormant, to dragging its tongue across the cage bars after you approached. It appears to know you're there.

Iron was said to be the bane of the fae- and by extension, everyone and everything that was sorcerous. Every monk wore a big iron buckle over their robe for this reason. The precautions many other people take to ward off the arcane is quite considerable; nearly all respectable merchants sold simple charms... Alas, the undead were not products of Arcana, but rather the Abyss, and iron doesn't seem to really do anything specific when you poke the heated point into its flesh. It reacted to the heat though, seeming to spasm lightly for a moment as it was detected... but there is little to speak of, in terms of a reaction towards any physical pain whatsoever. Just the movement of the slimy tongue and the occasional closing of the beast's mouth.

 

[Marsis]

Alright. Blind, that's for sure. Immune to Pain, most likely. Meleagan has retrieved the fire iron from the foulish flesh of the undead. He observes it, thoughtful.
Hearing seems to function normally. Heat perception as well, maybe a little diminished though. Pain however seems to be completely inhibited.
The lordling yet thinks about how the hog's severed head reacted immediately to him entering the room. Was that because of an enhanced olfactory sense, or thanks to a more peculiar ability to sense another being's presence ? He couldn't think of a way to test it as of now. Until further proves, he would rather consider the former.
Now were these conclusions general to all the undeads, or tied to this specimen, further tests on other subjects would be needed to decide on that. For now, he could only assume that all the ghouls would behave as this one.

Meleagan lined the spike of the iron with the back of the severed head, and with a hard thrust pierced through the filthy skull, making the tip of the tool emerge through its maw.

 

[Lorsh]

You finish off the fiendish creature after piercing its rotten brain with the fire-poking stick. Some kind of strange, smoky, green essence drifts into the air from the creature's eye sockets as it becomes completely motionless, and after you withdraw your weapon, it is coated in glistening black excremental liquid, as well as a chunk of more jellylike ghoul blood, along with some brains.

"Castellan? Master, are you in here?" A young servant pokes his head through the door leading from outside the gaol. "If it pleases, Sir Crannic bids me deliver several reports."

 

[Marsis]

Meleagan cleans the iron stick with a dirty piece of cloth that he throws into the fireplace. For a moment he silently observes the dead, or rather, the inanimate head, before answering.

"Please come in" the castellan says setting the fire iron aside. Once the young servant is inside, he orders showing the cage and the corpse "When you're finished, take that thing outside and burn it."

 

[Lorsh]

Your servant looks at the foul-smelling hog head, showing a wince on his face. He takes a deep breath and hands over a few reports written on a scroll. After he is done, he removes the hog's head from your sight and disposes of it as per your commands.

Apparently, Sir Camlore has reported that six of his serfs, along with many farm animals, were abducted last night in one of his outlying hamlets. He also requests your permission to interrogate and possibly torture/execute a suspicious yeoman who was allegedly discovered with heretical and 'runic' scriptures, after Sir Camlore exercised his right as the local master to command a searching of his house. The suspected necromancer has already been arrested and is being held in the manorial gaol.

Word has reached you that a violent outbreak of undeath occurred at Cotarhill. According to rumors surrounding the incident, this possibly has to do with Lord Cornick Hycott going mad after the death and subsequent resurrection of several of his children, including his heirs. Thankfully, it was all quelled by the House Hycott castle guards. House Terryn was offering assistance to them, and Lord Cornick's younger brother Barnaby has been installed as the new acting castellan.

 

[Marsis]

The master of Charondale briefly thanks his servant for getting rid of the corpse's head and takes the scroll from his hand. Once the young man has left, the castellan opens the message and reads through it, swearing internally. Rolling the scroll back, peeking through the window at nothing in particular, he thinks a moment and sighs.

To be honest, Meleagan isn't really convinced that whatever Harwood is pursuing is actually the source of the threat they are facing. If it even is a threat at all. But it still sounds more believable than it being a so called "witchman" bumpkin in the middle of Pelwick. Hopefully it would still have a link to the current situation in some way. The disappearance of the hamlet's livestock was indeed an issue, and won't be ignored by him. Tomorrow, after making sure that Sir Nyren's detachment is leaving without forgetting anything, he would himself go to Pelwick with men of Charondale, to enhance the hamlet's defenses, and deal with that yeoman.
Oh, and of course no torture or execution, at least not until he's here. That'd be the best way to make that man confess untrue facts.

But that would be for the next day, now's the time for the night.

 

[Lorsh]

Word is sent ahead to Pelwick that the imprisoned man in question is not to harmed until their noble lord arrives to pass judgement. Your father let his vassals get away with hanging common thieves and such, but they were not allowed to touch most of the landed farmers (there could be property involved, after all). General ordinances against heresy have always existed, though compared to the usual 'sorcerous' trespasses, acts of necromancy is treated especially severely.

Sir Nyren leaves just before dawn with his band of men to assist Lord Harwood.


The morning comes, and your servants are there to help you with any of your early routines. The horses are prepared; if there is no one on foot, five mounted retainers could be brought, though your knight Sir Crannic volunteers himself and the bailiff of Charondale to come along as well.