Lord Chastain-Wessel

“That’s a success.” The GM shifted some paper behind the GM screen. “Your character reads the trigrams and determines that the spiritual malevolence that possessed these corpses is emanating from the razed fort on the far side of the recent battlefield. Furthermore, he is certain that it is not too powerful for you to purify, or at worst seal away. It will require some time undisturbed, however, so any unquiet dead within will likely have to be pacified first.”

John glanced at Christie. “Think we can pull it off, Weiwei?”

“We h-” Christie stopped for a moment, then started again, “Weiwei looks thoughtful for a moment, then says, ‘We have to, or the next Ro-Langs will kill the poor people at the trading post.’”

Ro-Langs were basically zombies, but Archibald seemed to be thorough in the Asian theming. John caught himself nodding to the blind cutie across the table. “Takuma nods. ‘You are right. Let’s go.’”

“Though the trip to the ruins of the fort is oft punctuated with spells of caution as you have to navigate corpses that remain where they fell on the battlefield, none of them rise to attack you. The smell of **** is pervasive, though after powering through the worst of the corpse stench when you defended the trading post, you are only left mildly nauseous. Rumbling of thunder in the distance accompanies the overcast sky growing darker and the afternoon is cast in gloom. At least it looks like most of the fort’s roofs remain intact, so you should have some shelter when the rain inevitably breaks out.”

The GM paused briefly, likely to give them the opportunity to change their approach or take precautions. With no knowledge of what to expect, except ‘probably more undead’, John had nothing. Christie remained quiet as well.

“Weiwei takes point through the shattered gate and into the fort courtyard. The air is unnaturally calm for the weather, in sharp contrast to the ambient Qi which is in turmoil. Sensing the voids in its tumultuous currents, Weiwei feels the presence of corpses strewn about and a violent vortex of disturbed Qi around a pit dug into the center of the courtyard. The scent of charred wood and cold, burnt flesh intermingles with the general stench of decay. Entering second, Takuma’s eyes reveal the bodies to be soldiers in bloodstained armor with broken weapons, as well as drag marks by the bodies. It appears someone was dragging them towards the pit but abandoned the task halfway. He also sees scorch marks on the interior walls much more severe than the light char on the outside. The fire had clearly caught on too strongly to be put out by any weather short of a severe rainstorm the likes of which are seldom seen this early in the autumn.”

John spent a moment thinking before he asked, “Does Takuma sense the Qi roil by the pit?”

“Not innately. Is he Invoking a symbol of Qi Sight?”

“Not unless Weiwei wants me to take a look.”

Christie looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Okay, then Takuma will take a closer look at the scorch marks. I want to know how the fire got put out…”

The GM nodded and looked from John to Christie. “While Takuma turns to examine the wall, what does Weiwei do?”

“She is…” Christie ran her fingertips across what John assumed was the ‘display’ of the braille computer. “She is going to examine the roiling Qi, and see if she can figure out why it, uh, roils.”

“Takuma steps to the side while Weiwei approaches the pit. It doesn’t take long to get close enough to sense the shape of its contents, and though it takes a moment for her to process the lumpy mound, she feels enough to recognize it for the corpse pile it is. She gets no time to react to this, however, before the roiling Qi reacts to her. Wisps of the vortex splinter off and flow into the corpses on the ground, but the bulk of the curdled Qi rushes into the pile in the pit.

“A groan emits from the corpses as they stir with stiff movements and start to rise. Meanwhile, a sloshing sound emits from the pit as bones tear free of charred and rotten flesh and assemble into a skeletal humanoid with skulls in its chest, shoulders, elbows, hips and knees in addition to its head. Takuma recognizes it as an Odokuro, an undead amalgam of 10 slain warriors that possesses their combined strength and cannot be permanently slain until the cause of its reanimation is resolved. Fortunately, the lack of ghostflame in its eyes show that it is not its more powerful cousin the Gashadokuro, which also retains the combined martial skill of its constituents and combines it with flickers of invisibility and immunity to most physical harm. How do you respond to this?”

“I’m going to put a charm o-” John made a snap decision, but was paused by a gesture from the GM.

“Takuma reaches for a paper charm in his belt. Christie, what about Weiwei?”

“Fighting stance.”

“Time to roll initiative then.”

A moment of rattling dice and the Braille computer voice ‘reading’ out numbers later and they had a turn order. Through the expedient of good luck, John was at the top of it. Well, Takuma was, anyway.

“The Odokuro is eye level with Weiwei despite standing in the pit and ready to strike. Meanwhile the other corpses, Ro-Langs by the looks of it, are starting to rise between her and Takuma. What does he do, John?”

“Starting to rise but not yet on their feet?”

“Yes.”

That meant they couldn’t block him. “He’s gonna dash in and stick a fortifying charm on Weiwei.” ’This puts me in a risky position, but I can’t just leave Chri- err, Weiwei surrounded without backup. And that skele-ten sounds like we’ll need the buff.’

“Takuma steps over a rising Ro-Lang to place the magic-imbued slip of paper on the warrioress’ back. Weiwei feels the magic course through her, hardening her flesh. That’s 2d4 damage reduction off each hit and an extra die of damage with unarmed strikes.” John wasn’t sure how necessary the reminder was, since Archibald had spent a few minutes pre-entering Takuma’s buff effects into the braille computer. But he also didn’t know how much information was actually on the display.

“The Ro-Langs are next, mostly spending the few seconds getting on their feet and closing in on our intrepid heroes. One rises within arm’s reach of Takuma and takes a swing at-” The GM paused as the blind girl raised her hand. “Yes, Christie?”

“S-snap attack. I’ll- Weiwei will try to sweep its leg.” Snap attack was a mechanic by which she could attack out of turn, but unless the target had given her an opening she did so at a penalty and at an action cost to her next turn. It was normally a big risk to take, but they knew that the zombie-esque Ro-Langs were easy to hit.

“Go ahead and roll then.” The GM sounded completely neutral, but Christie started to sit restlessly and fidgeted with one hand while she reached for the Braille computer with the other. John wondered if there was some subtle tell that they were making a mistake, that he wasn’t familiar enough with Archibald to pick up on.

When they finished the fight a bit later and a bit battered but ultimately victorious, the GM called a bathroom break. Based on the hint of urgency with which Christie took off, that explained the restlessness during the battle. John felt no such need, however, and evidently neither did Archibald.

John was of a mind to look at more of the rule book, but he didn’t get far before his attention was drawn by Christie’s adoptive father clearing his throat. “I may only have been her father for a regrettably small portion of her life, but I take my daughter’s well being and development quite seriously.

“That includes dealing with things and people that may negatively affect it, and ones that already have. For instance, she has been severely unfortunate with foster parents before coming into my care.” While clearly broaching important and heavy topics, his voice remained evenly conversational as though he was making small-talk about the weather. “In one case, their negligence made it possible for their grown son to make her witness things no child should.”

Archibald paused briefly before continuing, the juxtaposition between the gravity of what he said and the casual tone in which he said it growing increasingly eerie, “As far as most of the world knows, he has since tried to steal from the Valerio cartel and paid for doing so. Approximately 60% of his skin remains unaccounted for, along with one hand and his genitals.”

… John had no idea how to respond to that, but evidently the rumors at school about Mr. Wessel being involved in some shady business had been onto something. After a moment, the opportunity to respond passed. “If I believed your intentions towards her to be malign, you would not have set foot in our home. But I do believe you are capable of foolish actions with unintended consequences. Additionally, there is one matter that you cannot handle correctly without additional information.”

As if on cue, a black cat leapt onto the table. A black cat with white, smile-like markings around its mouth. The black cat that had been pilfering scraps from his lunches since Tuesday, and which he had noted a magic collar on earlier today. Only, its nameplate was different now.

Felix ‘Smiling Jack’
Familiar Lvl 82
Cheshire Cousin

Before he had time to begin processing that, a flicker in what was now his peripheral vision revealed that Mr. Wessel’s nameplate changed as well.

Archibald Chastain-Wessel [HCW]
Sigilscribe Lvl 142
Chessmaster’s Eye

“You may recast your assensing spell.” John was still going through mental whiplash from this revelation and so only realized after using the Skill that he couldn’t trust the results. He was interested in what it said anyway, though, and it seemed best to do as he was told in this case.

Other than looking up the noble house, Abyssal Normandy and Cotentin, the Norman Reversal, and maybe the CW Industries guild that had been on the first Observe readout, John didn’t really know what to actually do with the information. Obviously, making too many conclusions based on what may be a fabrication was out. It probably explained the last part of Christie’s name at least.

Lord Chastain-Wessel seemed to somehow know when John finished reading. That, or he didn’t intend to give John time to read much, but at this point the former seemed like the safer assumption. In any case, he soon continued, “You will not introduce my daughter to the Abyss. For reasons I will not entrust you with, that is a matter that must be handled with the utmost care and delicacy. If you prove yourself, I may involve you in the process in time.”

“If she has the Veil-”

The count cut him off, “She does not. And no, I will not elaborate on that.”

Something else occurred to John. There was precisely one other Abyssal who he knew could mess with his Observe results. The same Abyssal who was in the way of doing something meaningful about Vanessa being a cunt to Christie. If Lord Chastain-Wessel was in the same figurative weight class as Wentworth…

“I, uh, I think I need to tell you that, well, Christie is being bullied. The instigator is Vanessa Hawthorne, but she’s protected… by…” At this point, John faltered, realizing that there was a definite possibility that this would be considered getting in Wentworth’s way. She had been very clear about that having severe consequences.

“Victoria Wentworth, the Scarlet Witch. I am aware, and it is being handled. Beyond which, the status quo is marginally preferable to the available alternatives.” For the first time during the conversation, the Norman noble dropped the eerily relaxed tone as an undercurrent of annoyance seeped in. It didn’t seem directed at John though.

For a short while, John tried to think of other things he needed to ask permission for or clarification about. While a great deal of uncertainty about all of this was oozing around in his skull, however, he failed to actually put any of it to intelligible words before Lord Chastain-Wessel’s nameplate reverted to the mundane smoke screen. John interpreted this as indicating that this line of conversation was over. When Christie returned a few seconds later, that interpretation was confirmed.

As much as he tried to seem like nothing had happened as they continued the session, John couldn’t help but feel tense throughout, for reasons that had nothing to do with the game. It didn’t seem like Christie noticed, though, but the tension in the game was also rising so she might just have read it as immersion.

They had two more minor clashes with more Ro-Langs while investigating the fort, using a mix of discovered clues and psychometry to piece together that the haunting spirit was that of the former garrison commander. They were getting ready to confront the spirit and temporarily disrupt it so John’s character could perform a purification when they ran out of time.