Chapter 2: Scions of the Damned, Part 1
Sleepless at Summer Camp
Excerpt from Official Report, authored by Zeldava Ellis.
Alright, y’know what? Maybe we do know what we’re doing.
We showed up at a contract, found the two messengers like we were asked to, and left without anyone getting hurt. Granted, the entire battalion stationed at the camp is dead, corruption is seeping into the water so all of Rivenspire might follow shortly but hey!
None of that was our fault for once!
I’d like to think I’m not the kind of person who gets nervous easily.
But turns out, standing in front of a bunch of people whose safety worries me and asking them to jump headlong into a situation that I know absolutely nothing about is a real good way to make me regret eating anything ever. My stomach churned uncomfortably as I stared at the assembled Company members.
“I'm going to assume you all read the contract,” I started. Ah yes, default to being a bitch when you’re nervous. Real helpful. “We're working with basically no information, and are going in blind to a camp site that is likely infected with the curse from the Rift. We have a portal stone prepared by the Northpoint guard, but I want to be very clear. Be prepared for anything when we arrive.” I paused, or… I thought I did. Honestly, I couldn’t even tell you if I said half the shit I remember saying. I’m not positive that I didn’t just vomit and collapse from worry.
“Our primary task is to find the messengers the guards sent and return them safely,” I said. “Our second task is to figure out what the fuck is going on in the camp. The first messenger, sent a few weeks ago, was a Redguard man from the Covenant reserves. He went in full uniform, and will likely be the only one there wearing covenant regalia. The second, sent just two days ago, was a young Breton mage from the Mage's Guild. She carried an ebony staff inlaid with gold and diamonds, a family heirloom. She was a portal mage, but has a ruined left hand from some faulty magic. That should be enough to help us find them. If there are any questions, I can answer them, otherwise I'll activate the portal stone and we'll go now."
"Portals," Azazel said, shaking his head. "The bane of my existence."
"Get used to it," Corin grumbled.
Borros raised his hand, clearing his throat. "Do we know the names of these two people who went missing?"
"The Redguard's name is Gorhael. The Breton mage went by Amarel." I sincerely apologize to their friends and families for butchering their names that badly.
"Any other additional info that might be...well, useful?" Borros asked.
I shrugged and sighed. “Aside from the fact that the Camp was setup to inspect the nearby ruins, not much. The guard can't get any messengers back, so they know about as much as we do.”
“Nothing to go off, and ruin involved.” Ascela sounded and nodded happily as she spoke. “That...is an adventure to tell to the Orphans."
She and I have very different views on when it’s appropriate to be happy, I imagine.
I’m getting tired of stepping out of portals to smell blood in the air.
As we stepped through the portal, it was immediately clear the camp had been decimated. Tents smoldered and collapsed, and the few that stood where ruined beyond repair. For such a large camp, it was strange to see how still it was. Two voices, sobbing and screaming, could be heard among the wreckage.
“Certainly doesn't sound good..." Verr muttered, drawing his axe as he started moving towards the camp.
“Sounds like the fun just happened." Ascela pouted, "I was hoping to poke someone in the eye today." Of course, as usual, Ascela had her priorities on things I’m not sure anyone else wanted to think about. She set off in the direction of the screams, humming happily.
Everyone started to spread out, investigating the ruins of the camp and looking for any clues as to what might have happened. The magic users among us began casting spells, looking for signs of what kind of magic might have caused this to happen.
“Guys... I'm sensing an aura,” Es’set called out. “Similar to the one that affected Miss Ellis while she was ill.”
It took me far longer than I’d care to admit to remember that Miss Ellis referred to me. I’m not used to being addressed properly. Usually people call me Zel, Zeldava, or angry bitch. All are equally valid.
Aesla and Adana started investigating the tents that still stood. Aesla came out of one of the tents, holding a plate of food, clearly infected by the purple blood. She slid it onto the ground away from her and kept searching. My attention was pulled from those searching and onto Ascela, who had found one of the wounded victims. She must have said something to him, because he looked up at her with eyes oozing purple.
“Who... who are you?” His voice quavered, tinged with a demonic sound I was all too familiar with. “Please shut him up, please.”
I shuddered, averting my gaze, remembering what it had felt like to have that purple liquid flowing through me. Even now, hearing references to him made the whispering in my head even louder.
“Hm," Azazel said, turning to face me. "That's the affliction alright... Is it possible we have the antidote with us?"
“Aye, but not much,” I said. “And its what's keeping Aesla and I from going nuts right now. We could make more, but not enough to deal with... him, right now."
The others kept asking him questions, but he was no better off than I was when afflicted. His words were meaningless, though he seemed much more worried about something he called a “left hand.” I turned, surveying the rest of the camp, not much use in interrogations involving questions about magicy the word bullshit is crossed out things. A scream pulled my attention back to the man, as I realized they’d cast a calming spell on him to get him to go to sleep.
“Guys,” I sighed, "treating it by knocking him out or soothing him is the opposite of helping”
“I could make him some of the tea I made, Miss Ellis,” Es’set said.
Again, wow it takes me way too long to recognize my formal name. I nodded at Es’set. “That’s a good idea, something to ease the pain of being awake.”
As Es’set left to prepare tea, I noticed something. Adana, Borros, Ina, Valtire, and Aestaril were all making their way towards a ruined tower off in the distance, Corin not far behind. For a moment I wondered what they were up to, when I saw it.
They were following a trail of purple blood.
The acrid smell of the corrupted rot tore at my nose as I approached the ruins of a guard tower.
By the time I arrived Val, Aes, Adana, Borros, Ina and Corin were all gathered there, standing outside, Corin holding some kind of paper in her hands. I looked past them, saw the stacked crates in the tower, saw the corrupted purple food oozing out of them, saw the corpse at the back dissolving into a sickly purple puddle. The armor he was wearing matched the description of the first messenger we’d been asked to find.
“I guess this must be the missing soldier..." Borros said.
Gorhael. Great. I hadn’t just butchered someone’s name, I’d butchered the name of a dead man. The others must have noticed our absence, as they came up the path of the tower, crinkling their noses at the smell of rotting flesh and corrupted blood.
“What's going on?” Verr asked, frowning at the disgusting smell.
“We found crates with infected food in them,” Val said. “As well as a body. That's all I know, I've been out here the entire time."
“Does that say anything useful, or just a scout’s message?" Borros’ voice caught my attention, pulling my gaze in his direction as he motioned at the paper in Corin’s hand.”
“The Captain of Northpoint wanted updates from the camp.. And this here is the messenger.” Corin said, tapping her fingers. “This must be.. Oh what was his name again? Nohaels or something..?" She rolled up the letter and handed it to Valtire.
Ascela, in her usual boisterous self, announced her presence with a shouted fact that, while no one had asked for it, proved useful. "The Daedric Shoutings demand that the afflicted spread the Curse. Seeing as the Afflicted have purple ooze coming their eyes, attacked us on our first outing against this Curse when we fought two Cursed Nereids, and will succumb to the Shoutings commands...We may have a rather deadly and widespread outbreak on our hands."
"Agreed,” Aestaril said, “one that we're far behind, I fear.”
Look at you Aes, finally got you in my report. You should speak up more.
My celebration of Aes speaking was cut short as the smell of corpses hit my nose, drifting from the ruins behind the tower.
On the bright side, we knew where everyone who had inhabited the camp went.
Of course, they were all dead, so maybe calling it a bright side was a bit of a stretch.
The bodies were strewn about the ruins like a great battle, as if half the camp had just attacked the other half for no reason. We spread out among the ruins, investigating the bodies. Some of them were dead from incredibly late stages of the affliction. Which… made no sense. Rivenspire had gotten the affliction after the Rift, and we’d never seen bodies this far along. How had they progressed so far in such a short time?
Worse still, why did all the afflicted have holes in their chest, like some jackass had decided that killing someone with purple goo wasn’t good enough and they needed to speed the process up by ripping their heart out too?
I was pulled from my inspection of the dead afflicted by the sound of Borros moving, following… something. I’ll admit, it was good to know we’d hired people who could find things on their own.
I do wish Borros would start following things that weren’t trails of blood though. Maybe he could find a nice trail of cake next time. I sighed, pushing myself up, tailing after him to see where the blood went, Ascela falling in step behind me.
Who knows! Maybe we’d get lucky? Maybe the blood would just lead to one more corpse, or a guy who bled grape juice. Maybe even a nice little cottage tucked in the woods with food and wine.
Nah, you’ve read this far. You know better.
“This side of Rivenspire is fucked.” Ascela said as we collectively realized the purple blood ended at the waterline. “I guess we are too late to halt the infection spreading throughout the River.”
Great. I love my job.
“Guys,” Valtire said, a bit out of breath from jogging to catch up with us, “I don't know if following this thing is a good idea. The corpse? Something punched right through their armor and ribcage... It was trying to rip their heart out.”
“If we don't follow it,” Aesla said with a shrug. “We don't find out how to deal with it. It's a risky bet, but one we have to take.”
I wasn’t entirely sure I agreed with that. But our contract wasn’t done; we hadn’t found the second messenger yet, and I wasn’t going to half-ass our second job in covenant territory. I opened my mouth, prepared to share some ideas on how we might explore safely, only to realize half the Company was gone already.
I followed the sounds of footsteps to see them vanishing into ruins smeared with purple blood and emanating the soft screams of sleepless.
Y’know, a dangerous fucking cave. With most of their companions standing out here.
I love my job. Aestaril, can you tell me later if that sentence is as dripping with sarcasm as I meant it to be?
I was lying earlier when I said we found where the rest of the camp deployment were.
Because the rest of them were here, screaming their fucking heads off and bleeding purple into the source of water for a large part of Rivenspire. I jammed my fingers into my ears, trying to stop the screaming from shattering my eardrums. There were only two here, at the top of an old set of ruined stairs, but they ignored us, too lost screaming his daedric chants. Their words tore deep at the thing sleeping inside me, made the whispers in my head a little louder, and chilled me to the bone.
Not because it was horrifying screaming. I’ve heard that before.
But because I could understand it.
“The Left Hand has saved us, we will save the others.”
I don’t speak daedric.
Why the fuck can I understand daedric?
My attention was torn from the screaming as some of the company started making their way down the stairs. As my gaze fell upon the floor of the cave, I could see dozens of sleepless milling about, all just as screaming and helpless as the ones at the top of the stairs. It was a strange feeling, to move through a crowd so out of their minds that they didn’t know we were there. One of them in particular caught my attention, and apparently Corin’s too.
To be honest, I only noticed her because Corin was currently stealing her ebony staff, inlaid with gold and crowned with diamonds. But my heart sank as I saw the gaping hole in her chest, purple blood oozing out of it.
At least now we knew what happened to the second messenger.
Sounds of feet on stairs pulled my attention to the second staircase in the cave, and Aesla ascending it, followed closely by Borros. A smell came from the top of the stairs, a rot and decay far worse than any I’d smelled today.
Which considering my nose was currently drowning in rot and decay was saying something.
My hands found the hilt of my greatsword as I followed them upstairs, voices drifting down to us. They were chatting in daedric, one speaking with a voice that sounded like charred sandpaper and the other speaking from everywhere and nowhere at once.
“You’ve done well,” the one who spoke from everywhere and nowhere said.
Why.
The fuck.
Can I understand Daedric?
“I would do no less, my liege,” The sandpaper voice grated my ears as it answered.
I peered over the top step with Aesla and Borros, my eyes narrowing.
The first figure, the one with the voice like sandpaper, was a Lich. Wisps of purple energy spilled from its eyes, crackling like electricity in the air. The other figure, the one whose voice seemed like it came from all around us, was dressed in Craglorn Syndicate robes, because the gods hate me and think its funny to parade my failures around for everyone to see. Everything about him felt wrong, and it was made even worse as the corruption inside me twisted my gut, tried to pull me forward and make me kneel at the top of the steps. Even if he hadn’t been spilling purple light from his skin like he was a godsdamn Ayleid lantern, even if his voice weren’t that of a thousand damned souls, the corruption would have told me what he was.
It had only been whispering his name in my head for the past two fucking weeks. I bit back a snarl, ordering the whispers to stop muttering “thank you, my liege” before I ripped my own throat out.
“Come come,” the voice of the Corruptor filled the cavern. “If you're going to stand there watching, you should really say hello first.” The robed figure cocks its head in our direction, a wicked grin on its face as purple light leaked from its eyes and mouth.
Fuck daedra, especially those who possess humans and make them look like a fireworks show. Can we all just agree on that? They’re real pieces of shit.
Realizing we were called out, we mounted the final stair, spreading out, ready for whatever this chucklefuck was going to do next.
“Have you come to accept my gift, mortals?” The vessel of the Corruptor said, stretching his arms wide. “I assure you, we take good care of our instruments of war. Your bodies will become weapons against the dreamer.”
“I accept no gifts from strangers,” Corin said.
“Apologies, but I desire to keep my mind and body to myself for the time being,” Ascela said cheerfully. “After I decide that I no longer care for this world then I shall hand it over. How does that sound?"
On the one hand, I’m glad Valtire hired people who are willing to converse first and stab later. On the other hand, he’s going to be insufferable to live with when he realizes it was one of the Expeditioners who threw the first blow.
Or… axe?
Aesla seemed to think it over for a moment, looking between us and the robed figure, before pulling her hand down and, in one motion, throwing her axe at the head of the robed figure.
Damn she has good aim.
The axe slammed the robed figure square in the head, cleaving his forehead in twain, his skull splitting and flopping slightly to either side. His mouth opened, the voice booming. "Ah what a shame."
Ascela sighed. "I guess conversation with is off the table?"
"Oh, come on!” Aesla cried out. “That was a clean hit! How are you still talking?!”
There was a sickening squelching sound as the robed figure’s head stitched itself back together, purple light oozing out of the wound to seal it shut. It sighed and continued speaking in that voice that comes from everywhere and nowhere at once. "I would have preferred to welcome you willingly, but no matter. I will welcome you into my flock soon enough mortals. Please, allow my Scion to show you the power that I can grant.”
The Lich turned its gaze upon you, its eyes glowing purple as it snaps open a portal. It raised its arm, forcing two screaming men, one clearly a Nord vampire that hadn’t fed in many days, the other a more normal looking Nord, to fly to it under some unseen force. The men hovered in front of the Lich as it curled its hands into fists, slamming them into their chests. Purple electricity arced through its hands and coursed into the men as they screamed, their blood turning purple in an instant, their veins glowing with purple energy. Their screams faded as they drifted to their feet, turning to face us, chanting in Daedric. The vampire crouched into a fighting stance as the bones of the other Nord snapped, transforming into before our eyes into a monster I was really getting tired of seeing.
As the werewolf and vampire took their stances, the Lich vanished into the portal, followed shortly after by the robed figure, whose voice echoed as the portal shut behind them. “Enjoy my gift and join me. The Dreamer awaits our vengeance.”
Again, say it with me. Fuck daedra.
The cavern devolved into fighting immediately. Aesla went after the werewolf, backed up by Es’set’s magic. I focused my efforts on the vampire, along with the help of Corin and Ascela’s magic.
There’s a small note here to talk to Valtire about Corin’s behavior, though it makes no indication of what she means by that statement.
By the end of the fight, Aesla had taken a beating from the werewolf, but the rest of us were largely unharmed. Es’set set about casting some healing magic, tending to Aesla. Without the Lich, the thing the Corruptor had called his scion, and the Corruptor around, the sleepless around us collapsed and writhed, screaming, like those in the Rift had. We left the cavern, our work done, but my mind was heavy with worry.
The fuck were all the sleepless talking about some “Left Hand” thing? What was a scion and were there more of them? And worst yet…
WHY THE FUCK CAN I UNDERSTAND DAEDRIC?
Members in Attendance and Deserving of Coin Disbursement:
Adana Nightshade
Aesla Stout
Ascela Levazon
Azazel of Menevia
Borros Hawkhart
Corin Beaufort
Es’set Telnothi
Ina Ensinma
Verrjord Jotunsonr
Council Members in Attendance
Zeldava Ellis
Valtire Leythen
Aestaril Leythen
