8. Depths of the Chapel, Part 1

Rosalyn stood alone in the Chapel as the disquieting song continued. A chorus of voices, singing in hushed wails around her. It made her dizzy. It made it hard to tell up from down, left from right. Damn it… I have to find Catherine and get out of here. Rosalyn thought as she reached under her cloack and pulled something out of its sheath.

Rosalyn was holding a rapier. Drops of ink dripping from the tip of the blade, which she held confidently outstretched, like an artist aiming her quill.

Inkchanted Rapier

Item Class: Enchanted Sword

A slender, silver rapier with a white feather on the guard and ink dripping from the tip of the blade, which is fashioned almost to look like a quill. The result of a normal blade being enchanted by an Ink Wizard. The ink it secretes can be used to poison targets, seeping into their bloodstream with every slash. It can also, in a pinch, be used to write messages.

While the pen is certainly mightier than the sword, some crafty Ink Wizards have managed to acquire the best of both worlds, using Inkchantment. The Inkchantment spell is one of the most subtly powerful in an Ink Wizard’s arsenal, able to imbue all kinds of objects with unique traits provided the caster has the patience and dedication to learn and experiment.

Rosalyn held her pointed blade at the ready, preparing to skewer whatever shadowy beast leapt at her from the pews, as she walked down the aisle and towards a door on the right. “WHOEVER’S DOING THIS, SHOW YOURSELF NOW!” Rosalyn commanded. “WE’RE SORRY WE BROKE IN, BUT IF YOU JUST LET US LEAVE THEN NOBODY HAS TO GET HURT. I’ll… I’LL EVEN REPLACE YOUR DOOR?”

Suddenly Rosalyn felt something sharp press against her spine, and she froze in place. “Don’t. Move.” a male voice hissed as the assailant held the blade to her back. “Drop the sword. Now.”

“Do you want me not to move? Or do you want me to drop the sword?”

“Wha- uh, the second one! Drop the weapon, NOW!” the man spat, his voice cracking slightly on the last word.

Rosalyn opened her right hand and her rapier clattered onto the misty marble floor, spilling drops of ink on the tile. “Okay. No need to panic Deerin. Don’t do anything you’re going to regret later.”

The boy behind Rosalyn sputtered. “How- how did you know… never mind! Blowing up our doors, breaking our Church! Chasing me down at work, the Fogport Police need warrants for this kind of stuff!”

“We have probable reason to suspect that-”

“I don’t CARE about your probable reasons for shit. There’s going to be a firestorm about this tomorrow. And if you try to hurt me, your name is going to be in those papers too.” Deerin jeered, his fake-deep-voice disappearing to reveal the shrill, nasally phonation of an underdeveloped young man.

“I’m sorry about the door, Deerin. I tried to stop Catherine, really! And I’m sorry about chasing you at the Docks. But her and I, we’re trying to help Elliott. Your friend.” Darc pleaded.

Deerin laughed - a cold, mocking cackle. “Don’t try to bullshit me by talking about Elliott… I know for a fact that if she really cared about him, she wouldn’t be breaking down our Church. Sending her goons after us. She doesn’t know HALF of what’s going on here.”

Rosalyn raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Deerin stammered, as if he’d been caught saying something he shouldn’t have. “Shit, I, uh… I’M NOT GOING TO TALK TO YOU, OKAY? You’re not going to trick me!”

“Deerin I don’t have a stake in this battle between you and Fogport. I don’t care about land disputes, or harassment campaigns, or whatever decades-long struggle you’ve all been having here. All I’m here to do is find Elliott Ahab, safe and sound. If you can help me do that, then I’m gone, and I’ll do what I can to make sure Officer Ahab takes note of you and your Church’s cooperation.” the Detective explained. She could feel Deerin’s grip on the blade slightly loosen. “I know you aren’t a killer, Deerin. Let’s just… let’s just talk this out.”

Rosalyn heard Deerin’s mouth open, and the first sounds of a sentence trickle out - but those noises were quickly snuffed by the rancorous boom of a cannon shot. Rosalyn dove forward away from Deerin as she heard the young man squeal, and when she scurried back to her feet at the base of the altar she saw Deerin entangled in a web of chains against the far wall of the Chapel. And standing at the other edge, was Catherine. Smoke still wafting of the barrel of her Cannonhammer.

Cannonball: Spidershot

Spell Class: Cannon Spell (Basic)

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The caster fires a round of ammunition from their Magick Cannon: a spherical cannonball that explodes to unleash a web of magick chains that bind and snare their target. These chains are extremely difficult to remove, unless the caster themselves dispels them.

The spells of the Cannon Knight are primarily for war, but as these Knights of metal and gunpowder left the battlefield, many settled into jobs as hunters or law enforcement. From there, it was necessary to devise spells that could capture targets nonlethaly, not just maim, burn, and explode them.

“CATHERINE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Rosalyn shouted back as she rose to her feet, grabbing her rapier off the floor. “I WAS JUST GETTING HIM TO TALK!”

“He bewitched me, Roz. I don’t know how, but I couldn’t think straight. He lured me out of here so he could try to kill you!” Catherine shouted back, pointing at the massive knife that had clattered to the floor where Deerin had been standing. It looked like the tooth of a whale, dripping with ectoplasm. “The instant he got bored of you he was gonna gut you like a fish. He’s lucky he’s still alive.” Catherine hissed as she approached Deerin, bound in chains amongst a splintery mess of shattered wooden benches.

Catherine pointed her Cannonhammer at Deerin. “AZARY! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR ASSAULTING AN OFFICER, AND ON SUSPICION OF KIDNAPPING!”

Deerin stopped struggling all of a sudden. His acne’d face twisted into a sinister grin… and then, he vanished. Rosalyn’s eyes widened as she watched the chain net clatter to the ground. Empty. “God dammit Cat! I had everything under control! There’s no way he’ll talk now.” Rosalyn shouted as Catherine scanned the empty Chapel, cannon at the ready.

“He’ll talk when I put his ass in Brumehold.” Catherine hissed. “I’ll-”

Catherine was interrupted by the sound of a rushing jet of water, followed by the sound of her own body lifting up off the ground and slamming like a cannonball into the far wall. Catherine groaned, her street clothes soaked, as Deerin, now rematerialized near the double doors, fired another jet of water at Rosalyn.

Spout

Spell Class: Ghost Whale Miracle (Basic)

The caster fires a column of high-pressured, frigid water from their hands, mimicking the blast of a spouting Ghost Whale. This blast can easily knock back opponents, put out fires, or flood small rooms if cast enough.

The power and pressure of a caster’s Spout is limited by their own breathing - the longer and harder they exhale, the more powerful their spell, with the most powerful jets able to knock ships and cut stone. Many Mysticet Clerics practice their breathwork - not just for combat, but as a form of meditation, and to improve the technique of their choral chants.

She quickly rolled to the side, and after regaining her footing she began to fire bullet after bullet of thick ink from her fingertips towards Deerin.

“GAH!” he screeched as a glob of black goo landed right in his eyes, which he struggled to scrape off his face. On the other side of the Church, Catherine growled as she stood up, as her soaked street clothes became coated in a thick layer of heavy cast iron.

“SURRENDER DEERIN, NOW!” Catherine called as she pointed her cannon out again.

“Guh… NO!” he screamed as another, toothlike knife appeared in his hand, which he lobbed towards Catherine. The dagger flew through the air with autonomous precision, as if guided by an invisible hand, until it slammed into Catherine’s armoured wrist, outstretched in a blocking motion.

Teeth of the Whale

Spell Class: Ghost Whale Miracle (Basic)

The caster summons a Ghost Whale tooth - thick, ridged, and dripping with a strange ectoplasm. These spectral bones can serve as makeshift weapons in times of close-quarters combat, or tools in times of need. They are imbued with a fraction of a Ghost Whale’s psychic power, enhancing the caster’s mastery over their weapon and allowing them to influence its direction when thrown.

Mysticet Clerics devote some of their magickal advancements to connecting with the bodies of the Ghost Whales. But in cases outside of the most dire need, using a Ghost Whale’s body as one’s own is seen as taboo, and most other Ghost Whale Miracles seek instead to harness their grace, music, and serenity in the face of death. At least, what the Mysticet PERCEIVE as such traits.

Deerin lobbed dagger after dagger at Catherine until she looked a bit like a cutting board, while he ran towards the far door Catherine had emerged from. “HE’S HEADING TOWARDS THE BASEMENT!” Catherine called as she fired another Spidershot from her cannon - only for the net to pass harmlessly through the air, as Deerin vanished once again.

The choral chanting that had filled the Chapel moments earlier had ceased once Deerin fled down into the Church’s basement. And, with hope of a peaceful resolution seemingly thrown out the window, Rosalyn followed Catherine down into the bowels of the Chapel.

“This is where he trapped me… I got lost in the darkness down here, somehow, but once you two started talking I was able to snap out of it and come find you.” Catherine explained as they took the final step down into the Church’s basement. The air down here was even more dank and humid than the upstairs, with the mist of above seeping down into the cellar like rain leaking through a roof. A green glow was emanating from the blade of Rosalyn’s rapier, while the spout of Catherine’s Magick Cannon flickered a fiery orange.

“He can cast some spell that disorients us, gets us lost.” Rosalyn explained, shuddering a bit from the subterranean cold. And from dread. “Maybe we shouldn’t be going down into the scary Church basement, then.”

“The worse this place is, the more reason to check it.” Catherine explained. “Because HE could be down here.”

Rosalyn took a deep breath and steeled her nerves. She’s right. I have a job to do. she thought as she held out her rapier, and began to cross into the smoky hallway.