Ghost Rage, Episode 17a- Vote Now!

“Quick,” you tell Lucan, “into another room.”

He nods and helps Amania along.

You duck into the hallway. Korthion will reach the bottom of the stairs at any second. You pick the nearest door, push it open, and hurry inside, Lucan and Amania following.

You push the door closed, leaving it open a crack so you can see and hear.

And as you do, a half-dressed fat man sits up from the bed, his black robes in disarray.

“What is this?” he demands, looking at you and Amania. “I only paid for one woman; I’m not going to pay for two.” He glowers at Lucan. “And I certainly did not pay for a man! This is an outrage! I demand to speak to…”

Lucan’s sword moves so fast you can barely follow the motion, and the outraged magus falls into a sudden shocked silence as the tip of Lucan’s blade comes to rest on his lips.

“Kindly shut up,” says Lucan. “And…ah, don’t try any spells. It would indeed be tragic if my hand happened to slip.”

The magus shuts up.

You watch and listen as Korthion stalks down the hallway, Cenorix trailing after him. Korthion comes to a sudden halt as he sees the corpse of the guard on the floor, and then he steps over the dead man and into the warded room. You feel a sudden crawling tingle as Korthion casts a spell in the warded room; a spell to sense the presence of arcane force, you think, though you can’t be certain.

“Whatever it is, it’s gone,” says Korthion, walking into the hallway.

“Rhazion must have realized you would look,” says Cenorix, “so he took…whatever he had hidden down here.”

“No,” murmurs Korthion, and a smile spreads over his lean face. “No. I spoke to Rhazion not five minutes past. He wouldn’t have had enough time to retrieve whatever he had hidden down here, and,” he gestures at the dead guard, “and he certainly wouldn’t have killed his own guard. And he wouldn’t have killed the guard with a throwing knife to the throat…which, as you will recall, is the signature weapon of a certain Countess.”

Cenorix frowns. “You mean…”

“Do I have to spell it out for you, fool?” says Korthion. “The Ghosts broke into Rhazion’s room and took whatever was there. Perhaps even the Ghost Countess herself did it. Just as well. That means both the Ghost Countess and Rhazion will soon be in the same place, which makes it all the easier for me.” He smiles. “Come along. I have one…final task for you and your men, and then I will release you from your service to me.”

Korthion is rather cleverer than you would like.

“You will?” says Cenorix.

“You have my word,” says Korthion.

They both leave.

You count to one hundred, and then beckon Lucan and Amania forward, leaving the terrified magus sweating in his bed.

“I want a refund!” he calls after you.

You return to the Black Rose’s main floor and nod to Moresti, and he follows you outside. In short order you are outside once more, the night air cool against your bare arms and shoulder.

“That was close,” says Lucan.

“Just say it and get it over with,” you say. “I shouldn’t have killed that guard.”

Lucan raises his eyebrows. “Actually, I was going to say we should get away from here as soon as possible. But…”

Amania screams.

You spin, a throwing knife in your hand. Amania is staring at Moresti, trembling, her face filled with fear. Moresti, for his part, only looks baffled.

“Don’t let him hurt me,” she says, “don’t let him hurt me.”

“What did you do to her?” you say.

“Moresti is very confused,” says Moresti. “He only looks at pretty woman, and she starts screaming. But Moresti has never seen her before.” He shrugs. “Moresti is reliable mercenary, but he does not often meet noblewomen.” He thinks about this for a moment. “At least before today.”

“He’s not going to hurt you,” you say, but Amania only huddles into herself. What is she so frightened of?

Moresti’s warding tattoo, perhaps? But that makes no sense.

No doubt she is still frightened from her ordeal in the Black Rose’s basement. But right now you need to figure out how Rhazion is controlling and summoning the mavrokh, and to do that, you need to question Amania at length.

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