Tales of Ruuin - Homecoming

Into the Dark

Dawnward District

Tal, Kingdom of Morgenheim

Fall,8th Butchermoon, Year 1876

"By Science, what is your obsession with dark, stinking holes?" blurted Echser. He waved his hand in front of his face to dissipate the miasmic, cherry-tainted stench that wafted towards him from the open sewer grate.

Stefan and the old undertaker chuckled, and even Craven smiled. "Why, my dear old friend, if I did not know you any better, one might almost take this for a quip."

Echser blinked. "Eh? Why?"

"Ah, best not penetrate that mystery," – more chuckling – "besides; I was merely asking if you would like to accompany me and by no means giving you an order."

Echser glared at the bounty killer, alarmed by his generosity. "You leave the decision up to me?"

Craven spread his hands in a disarming gesture. "But of course. It wounds my heart to think you might have thought otherwise."

"Why? Why would you even think I'd follow you... down there?"

"Is it not obvious? Your precious book... Ghouls are pack rats of the highest order. If one of them appropriated your volume, it is in all probability in their nest by now – and no, they would not devour it just because of its leather binding. After all, it is not human skin, right?"

"Then get it back!"

"Alas, I cannot do that, my friend."

"But... but why?" Echser whined.

Craven smiled in that infuriating way of his, shrugging. "That is something you have to find out for yourself."

"I... I will come with you, lich hunter," began Stefan, lifting his spade. "If my brother is still alive – and I know he is – he'll be down there. If... if we come too late to rescue him, then I'll make those filthy monsters pay."

The old undertaker balked at that. "Are ye daft, boy? The town's payin' these fella's 'ere a lot of coin to solve them ghoul troubles. Ye just would get in the way."

"I'm going down there," Stefan grated through clenched teeth.

Craven looked at the young man for a very long time, tilting his head as a curious wolf might.

"You can't stop me!"

"Oh, that is where you are wrong," said Craven with utter calm and confidence. "Very wrong... but who am I to stand between two brothers so cruelly parted by fate. As long as you do what I tell you when I tell you, you are most welcome to join the hunt." He shrugged. "After all, they are just ghouls."

Echser gawped. "Just?"

"Besides, it might be good to have a city official down there along with us. I would not want to be accused of stealing the treasure."

The old undertaker looked up at that. "Eh? What treasure?"

"As I explained," Craven said, "ghouls are pack rats. I wager they have been looting your graves for quite some time, dragging the corpses to their nest where they can devour them in peace. There is bound to be all sorts of valuables: rings, necklaces, coins, the odd heirloom or two."

Hornbach gaped at that, a strange glimmer entering his eyes. He licked his lips. "Eh... If ye put it like that, maybe I should come with ye as well – boy's just an assistant after all. Not a proper," and he drew himself up to his rather unimpressive height, "city official."