The Ghost's Crusade

XIV: Drystan

Descending the narrow switchback staircase he found Farseeth standing at the back door of the inn, secluding herself in the long shadows cast by the dwindling fire in the hearth beyond the main ale-serving area. The innkeeper himself was sitting dead asleep at the bar there, a harkbus nearly as long as he was tall resting across his lap, its fuse smoldering faintly in the dimness beneath the bar counter. Apparently waiting for demons to break down his front door had been exhausting. He was snoring almost loud enough for it to be mistaken as one of the occasional thunderclaps outside.

The Taskmaster kept her voice low though Drystan guessed that if the thunder didn't wake the man, their quiet conversation at the back door would likewise go wholly unnoticed. “You are both certain that the man you found did not have a demon's influence?”

“Quite certain,” Drystan affirmed, leaning against the cupboard across the doorway from the woman. “He kept no schaden, there were no inscribed gates, and all his notes we caught sight of were typical of those who practice the necromancies.”

Pursing her lips into a thin line the woman finally let the worry she felt be seen on her face. “A week ago Taskmaster Sherer lost contact with Senior Inferi Reinhold and his scouting unit in the Cormallen Range. I've tasked everyone I have free to attempt re-contacting Lauthen or one of the others since we got word, but either they are all too severely wounded to spare the energy or they are dead.”

Drystan had only met Archer Reinhold three or four times in his life and had never spoken much with the man or his revenant, but he knew they had been caught up in the massacre of Edelglen which had brought Tiernan into the care of the church as an orphan. From what he had seen of the pair it wasn't like them to stay out of contact with Antenox for more than a day or so, nor be so far west of Wardenfell. In fact Archer mainly operated in and around Warshaven and the southern Oribian ports—he had been born and raised there and always seemed to prefer the company of the corsairs to anyone on dry land.

“Why are we sending people into the Cormallen Range? That's at least hundred leagues beyond any remotely civilized part of the Oribian.”

“The Hesperi in the south were scrying and they detected three emerging foci of powerful magic not of Eral,” replied Farseeth. “One was determined to be Akkali, and given what she passed on to you when you met, we were able to determine the second as being the combined power of three different Oratios within Harenholl, all of whom we eliminated earlier this year. The last focus remained undefined, but it was emerging deep within the western wilds. The Grandmaster himself tasked Reinhold with sourcing it and Sherer sent his Primary with him.”

“And you think the crazy corpse-thief we found in the warrens is related to whatever happened to him?”

“Not directly, but your friend's notes are well-organized and detailed.” The Taskmaster paused as the innkeeper shifted in his seat and waited until she was certain he was still sleeping before continuing on. “The man raves of death coming from the setting sun. He is so fervent in his belief he is building an army of tailored homunculi to defend his Empire regardless of the fact that it has made him a fugitive to be executed upon sight.”

“Someone somewhere would have heard of one of the Oratios making it out that far alive. What did Archer's last report say?”

“At the very last contact we had with Reinhold, Lauthen was sensing a powerful undercurrent of Pandemonium magic. It wasn't like an inscribed gate, and it was no longer present within this realm itself, but the taint of it was there.” She thumbed at the bottom of her chin and shook her head. “The way he described it, it sounds a lot like what Samalyn was sensing from Nocis' laboratory. If it is, this is the first time in more than a century one has taken an active interest in Eral, not just given mad mages delusions of immortality by whispering ways to get to the City.”