9. Depths of the Chapel, Part 2

The basement, so far, was a long corridor that stretched out further than either of them could see. As they passed through the fog, past the rows of mysterious doors and odd paintings, Rosalyn heard the choral chanting slowly build again. “Cat - it’s that song again.”

As the pagan chanting crescendoed, Rosalyn felt the air in front of her vibrate and fizzle, like she was now looking through static. It felt like gusts of wind were now tugging her in all directions, and down was up. “ROZ!” she heard Catherine call out… but the cry was distant, muted by the chanting as Rosalyn screamed and covered her ears.

Then, it stopped. Rosalyn opened her eyes and took her hands away… the chanting had dwindled to little more than a low drone. But the damage was done. Rosalyn wasn’t in the hallway anymore - she had wandered, somehow, through one of the doors into a side room filled with dust and fog. She was surrounded by paintings, pots, statues… many draped under ghostly sheets, but others hung for her to see.

“C-Catherine?” Rosalyn squealed, too nervous to let out more than a whimper as she carefully shuffled past the unnerving antiques towards a door on the far wall. Where the hell am I? How did I get here? That song… it must have some kind of disorienting effect… the detective thought as she came face-to-face with another large mural, depicting the same white beach from the first.

Two silhouettes - a man and a woman - sat on the shore, with the Misty Sea behind them. They were standing over the sand, each holding something over a small pit. “Lovers gather at Communion Beach. They offer to the Mysticet, so their love will be blessed.” Rosalyn read. “Some kind of ritual. Huh.”

All of a sudden Rosalyn heard a thud, causing her to whip around. A painting on the opposite wall had fallen to the floor, but other than that… things were the same. “Ha… hahaha.” she laughed, letting go of the breath stuck in her chest. “I shouldn’t be so jumpy. I’m supposed to be a Detective dammit, and I’m getting scared of some old-”

Then one of the sheets lurched forward. “AH!” Rosalyn screamed as she rolled to the side, and whatever was hidden beneath the cover slammed into the wall where she stood. Cracking the wood into splinters. Rosalyn thrust her rapier forward, piercing into the ghost and slicing the sheet in twain… only to see that it was just a marble bust. It’s like this place is haunted. Rosalyn thought, eyes wide and teeth chattering as she backed away from her ‘assailant’.

Then, in the distance, Rosalyn heard a cannon shot. Then another. Then another. “CAT!” Rosalyn screamed as she threw open one of the doors, emerging in the main basement hallway… but nowhere near the staircase. She didn’t know where she was, deep in the misty labyrinth. Another cannon shot, off in the distance. “CAT!”

Rosalyn hurried down the corridor, but all the while the magick chanting was growing louder and louder. Then, she stopped. Deerin was standing there, at the end of the hall, clad in a pale robe. “Go now, Detective. While you still can.”

“I’m not leaving without Catherine OR Elliott.” Rosalyn hissed, blade outstretched.

“Are you dense? Elliott isn’t here.” Deerin spat. His tone was mocking, but it seemed to be hiding a real sadness… a sadness which gave Rosalyn pause. “And if you really care about him, like I do, you’ll leave Catherine here too.”

“...you know something about him, Deerin.” Rosalyn stammered. “Did… Did Catherine have something to do with this?”

An explosion tore through one of the basement walls, sending smog and stone shrapnel into the air. Rosalyn quickly hid herself behind her cape as Deerin vanished once more, and Catherine stepped out. “ROZ! WHERE THE HELL IS HE?”

As Rosalyn came out from under her cloak, the haunting song began to rise again. “DAMMIT! IT’S THE SONG, CATHERINE!” Rosalyn screamed as she covered her ears, trying to drown it out. Then, it cut out.

EVERYTHING cut out.

Rosalyn pulled her hands off her ears to discover that she couldn’t hear anything. Confused, she looked around the hallway, where she saw Catherine making hand signs at her. Gesturing to her ears, and giving a thumbs-up.

Magickal Deafening

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Spell Class: Cannon Spell (Advanced)

The caster chooses a nearby area, and causes magickal deafness to afflict all within this zone. Deafened targets can no longer hear, rendering them vulnerable to surprise attacks. But it can also protect allies from sound-based attacks, bewitching words, and other loud noises. The caster can dispel this deafness at any time.

In the early days of artillery in Blackwater, the number one source of injury for cannoneers wasn’t being maimed by weaponry or mottled by fire. Rather, it was hearing loss, brought on by their own magick. A solution was quickly put in place to address this, but while cotton earplugs did the job for awhile, the people in charge of stocking ships realized that a magick solution was cheaper than a material one.

Rosalyn nodded her head in understanding, and got back to scanning the hallway. She and Catherine wordlessly bunched up, pressing their backs together as they looked around the smoke and fog, eyes ready for the first sign of Deerin to reappear.

Then, in the vapour, a faint white glow appeared. Something was floating towards them…

A Lampfish.

Rosalyn and Catherine both had a confused expression on their faces as the odourous, spherical fish floated through the air like an untethered balloon, glowing like a lightbulb as it bobbed awkwardly towards them. Catherine nearly laughed. But Rosalyn didn’t - she knew what this was.

If the duo could hear, they would have heard the shrill ting of glass shattering as the ghost of the Lampfish exploded, sending shrapnel of glass through the air as darkness flooded back into the corridor. After feeling the shards of glass on her face, the next thing Rosalyn felt was suddenly being grabbed and spun around… followed by the cold sensation of something sharp on her throat.

Deerin had a Whale Tooth, dripping its undead sinews onto Rosalyn’s cloak, pressed against her throat as the two walked backwards into the fog. At the other end, Catherine stood with horror on her face, her Cannonhammer dropped complacently to the floor.

All of a sudden Rosalyn could hear again, and the first thing she heard was the sound of Deerin’s voice screaming in her ear. “GET AWAY FROM ME CATHERINE! I’LL GUT HER LIKE A FISH!”

“Put. The knife. Down.” Catherine hissed. “Please. We’re sorry. We’ll leave.”

“Sorry isn’t enough for what you’ve done to us. For what you’ve done to Elliott.” the cultist hissed. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave Fogport. Y-You’ll take your officers with you… and you’ll GET OUT OF HERE! B-Before this whole city goes to shit because of what you’ve brought on us.”

“Deerin, please… We don’t know what you’re talking about. Does this have something to do with Elliott?” Rosalyn begged. She could feel Deerin’s heartbeat. His trembling voice. His hand holding the knife was shaking so much, she was worried her slit her throat on accident. “Deerin. This isn’t you. You’re not a killer, think about what you’re doing!”

“I have! And this… this is the only way. Fogport’s done for. I don’t know where Elliott is now, but even he could see it. There’s only way to save this city, and it’s if you all leave.”

“DON’T SAY HIS NAME!” Catherine screamed. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER?!”

Rosalyn could feel Deerin flinch - she could tell that any second, if Catherine lost control, her own blood would be splattered all over the Church. “STOP YELLING AT ME!” Deerin cried out, as he felt the tooth in his hand slip slightly… but rather than accidentally spill Rosalyn’s blood across the floor, the blade simply slid off her skin. Skin which now felt very cold and ridged in Deerin’s grip.

Blood of the Squid: Shell

Spell Class: Inkantation (Advanced)

The caster calls upon the blood of the first Ink Wizards, and channels it into their own body. The caster’s skin hardens as it transforms into a near-impenetrable shell, covered in spirals. Most attacks against the shell are easily tanked, and lthough it can break under enough force it protects the caster far better than any normal armour, only at the cost of their speed and mobility.

The first Ink Wizards took many forms. Their bodies were in many ways just as magickal as their spells - some mastered the art of camouflage, others venom, armour, or flexibility. These boons still exist in the ether, ready to be studied and used by the Ink Wizards of today. But calling on such powers can easily exhaust the caster - and the more this spell is used without rest, the more brittle the armour becomes.

SLAM.

Deerin fell backwards as Rosalyn’s chitinous fist slammed into his chin. The cultist’s eyes rolled back into his head, before he dizzily collapsed in a heap on the cold stone of the Chapel’s cellar. Rosalyn stood over him, knuckles covered in his blood, and her entire body encased in gray calcium, which formed a spiral armour around her. But once she saw him knocked out cold, the armour vanished, and Catherine hurried to her side. “Sorry Deerin. I tried to do this the easy way… but I guess I’ll see you in Brumehold.”