Empirical Gnollage: Installment 105 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment105.png]
Al motioned for the survey crew to retreat while the adventurers made hurried preparations to meet the mob of goblins that the horrible noise suggested was rushing towards them. Gruntle placed himself right at the top of the steps and grinned viciously, while Wikwocket hopped down off of his back to stand behind him. Al moved to stand at ground level above the bottom of the stairs, and Bote followed his lead to do the same on the other side so they could look down at what was coming up. Larry and Shelly nervously held their spears ready as they ushered the survey crew back. Al tucked Purgatio between his body and his left arm so he'd have his hands free if he decided he should resort to magical intervention.
They'd barely gotten into their chosen positions when the sound of many small running feet became loud enough to be heard underneath the panicked goblinish yelling. With no discipline whatsoever, a large handful of terrified goblins burst out of the Lavatio, pulling at each other to be the first to get away. The goblin mass got several steps up before they noticed the dangerous gnollish obstruction at the top. As they piled into each other in hesitation, Al conjured a blast of magic fire from his fingers down onto the goblins. Hearing Al speaking the arcane words of magical power, several of the goblins were able to shove some of their fellows in front of the flames in time to shield themselves. The brief, intense burst of reddish fire crisped to death the half of the mob that were used for cover and left the remaining few with singed skin and smouldering hair.
The unearthly shriek of rage that had been pursuing them rang out from inside and spurred the surviving goblins back into motion and they all made a desperate dash in hopes of getting past the madly bark-laughing, black-eyed gnoll blocking their way. One was crushed beneath Gruntle's flail. A second narrowly dodged the lunging jaws of the gnoll, only to find itself skewered by the unexpected Wikwocket as they rushed past. The last took advantage of the attention on the unfortunate other two and dodged through the melee to get away. It screamed at the sight of the two guards protecting the survey crew as it passed the top of the steps, and quickly changed direction as it ran.
Al conjured the bolts of abstract magical violence, and the last goblin's sprint away became a limp tumble as it collapsed dead. The last thing we need right now is that thing telling the rest of them we're here, Al thought.
The face of a ghostly corpse, twisted with rage and hate, came into view at the edge of the shadows near the entrance to the Lavatio.
"Et non reverteris!" it shrieked. Gruntle yelped and rushed back up to the top of the steps.
The terrible face softened, and returned to the ghostly form of Cleodora's as she - Al assumed - had appeared in life.
"Ego sum Cleodora. Reversus es. Debeo emundare," Cleodora said in a much calmer and friendly tone.
"Uh, yes. Hello," Al answered back, leaning over to wave down at the ghost. He grasped Purgatio's hilt and worked the sword back into its sheathe, turning towards the survey crew to look for Livia. He saw the entire group, including their two guards, looking shocked and frightened. "It's okay, it's over now. See, this is why we wanted to come along. That's Cleodora down there, I guess she doesn't like goblins either."
It took Larry a moment to find his voice again. "Do... does... do you... do this kind of thing a lot?"
"More than I'd like, lately," Al admitted, "I'm still getting used to it."
"If that's still getting used to it, it's going to be really impressive when you are used to it," Larry insisted.
"Hoc loco grata es. Debeo emundare. Veni. Ego sum Cleodora," Cleodora's voice called out from below.
"Oh, right, uh, she only speaks elvish as far as we know, and none of us can talk to her," Al said, giving Livia a questioning look.
"She says we're welcome here. She says she has to clean but is telling us to come in," Livia interpreted, looking nervously towards the steps down.
"Are you sure we can trust her?" Rachel asked, "While I know of no formal holy edict, our Lady Balnea Infernala is a goddess of comfort, health, and cleanliness so I'm not sure we should be colluding with the undead."
"You will find few people, regardless of their vital state, who are more concerned with cleanliness than Cleodora," Bote assured her. "If it is at all possible for a restless soul of the dead to be acceptable to divinity, I feel this one probably will be. Of course, if she is not, there will not be much that we can do about it. Please, come and see."
Bote went to the top of the steps and started down, turning back to beckon again after a short way. After a brief dispute between Rachel, Livia, Larry, and Shelly about who should go first, Livia gave in, as the person who would need to talk to the ghost of Cleodora on behalf of everyone else. She followed Bote down the steps, with Rachel behind her. The survey crew and guards followed them.
"Will these even do us any good down there?" Larry asked Al, holding up his spear as they headed down.
"Against a ghost, probably not as much as you'd hope, but from what I've read it'd be better than nothing. If you know how to use it, the intent to stab someone with it can make it have an effect on a lot of supernatural creatures, even if they aren't bothered by them as much as a normal thing might be," Al answered. "Don't worry too much, she can be scary but since we're here to talk to her about restoring the baths that she loves so much, I think she'll be friendly. Everything else we ran into in here last time seemed like they'd be put off by a spearpoint well enough."
From what Al could see, the entrance room was much cleaner now, aside from a pile of dirt, ash, debris, broken glass, some terribly smelly goblin-corpses, and for some reason one dead frog to the right of the archway. One of the dead goblins looked mummified, and Al thought perhaps it was the one they'd seen in the room where they'd originally found Cleodora. A silk-wrapped bundle with two holes poked in it seemed likely to be the goblin that had been caught by the privy-spiders. Cleodora's broom was leaned against the wall with a dustpan, next to the pile.
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From the darkness further in the room came the sound of something being dragged across the floor, and eventually Cleodora's spirit came into view again. She dragged a second similarly-mummified corpse of a goblin who seemed to have died in a state of terror towards the pile of rubbish.
"Um... Salve, nomen meum Livia," Livia spoke up as the ghost pulled the dead goblin up onto the top of the pile.
"Ego sum Cleodora. Debeo emundare. Linguam intellegentiam gaudeo audiendi. Venisti auxilio?" Cleodora's spirit answered, as she picked up the broom and dustpan.
Cleodora and Livia traded questions and answers in Elvish, with Livia occasionally translating for Rachel and the others. While they did this, Al took his pack off and went digging for torches, only to realize he had only one left. "Lamp oil," he muttered to himself, "Need to remember to buy lamp oil." He decided to wait until it was really necessary before lighting it.
"Well, she's very happy to hear that we've come to start restoration of this place," Livia finally summarized, "she insists she's going to stay and keep the place clean, though."
"You explained to her that I'm here to consecrate the place to Balnea Infernala?" Rachel asked.
"Yes, but she just keeps insisting that she's going to stay and help. I don't know if she doesn't understand or if she's just stubborn."
"Is it safe for us to begin our survey?" asked Heinz. Livia relayed the question in elvish to Cleodora, then interpreted the ghost's answer.
"She apologizes for the mess by the entrance, she says she can't actually leave here to take out the stuff she's cleaned up. She doesn't seem to mind if you get started. She does ask if we could remove the pile of waste since she can't leave to do it herself."
"Well, maybe after we get done surveying," Gerald the surveyor said, as he busied himself getting his equipment out of his pack. "I'm sure the work-crew that gets hired could do it. We didn't bring anything for hauling stuff though."
"We've got a magic invisible cart!" Wikwocket announced, pointing proudly to Al, who sighed.
Great. Now we're the Garbage-Collector party.
"Yes, we can help get this stuff out of here while you all get started on what you need to do. Give me a few minutes to prepare," he said, giving Wikwocket an aggrieved glare and getting back a ridiculously exaggerated innocent batting of eyelashes in return.
Al was happy to see the survey crew setting up lanterns for lighting, hanging them from segmented wooden poles that they stood up for the purpose. With plenty of lighting to read by, Al went through the ritual meditation to conjure up the... magic invisible cart, concentrating it in space more than time so that it'd hold more weight. Once the shimmering transparent disk of magical force formed in the air, Al coaxed Gruntle in from the steps where he waited to avoid Cleodora, and got him to help load dead goblins and debris to be taken outside. When Cleodora came over with the broom and dustpan to sweep dirt and dust up to be carried out as well, Gruntle made sure to keep the floating disk between her and himself. Through Livia, the ghost apologized for the desperate seizure of Gruntle's mortal body, but insisted it was necessary because she needed to get out to clean. Gruntle, unpersuaded, continued to avoid her, and led the way back up the steps when Al finally went up himself to dump the rubbish in the least-vegetated ruins of a different building's foundation by dismissing the magical disk.
When they returned, they found work well underway. Wikwocket was leading the survey crew into one of the changing rooms to continue their measurements and observations, with Livia and the ghost of Cleodora following to ask and answer questions. Rachel sat in a meditative pose in front of the statue of Munditio as Bote stood nearby watching her quietly.
"You were right," Rachel said after a moment, "Munditio is not here, this is simply a statue, not a consecrated representation. If Munditio was ever here, he has abandoned this place now. That will make my work much less complicated."
"I was not certain myself," Bote replied, "but it seemed likely. I would not expect a place still inhabited by divinity to have fallen to such a state."-
"What's going to happen now?" Al found himself wondering aloud.
"I will first prepare this room to be consecrated to our goddess, Balnea Infernala," Rachel answered, as she stood back up. "Once this room becomes a part of her holy earthly dwelling, she will prevent any unworthy from entering. From what you provided us, this seems to be the only real entrance here, so the rest of this place should be protected from intrusion by anything substantial. Once that's established, the consecration of the rest of the site should go more quickly."
"Any idea what's going to happen to Cleodora?" Al asked, looking towards the open door to the changing room where Wikwocket's voice describing the taste of giant-rat meat could be heard.
"Even less now. I've never been in the presence of the undead before, and never wanted to, but she's not what I would have expected from what I've read. I expected the obsession, but she's not mindless or malevolent like I would have guessed. I'd assume she'd be destroyed or banished to wherever her soul belongs, but now I'm not entirely sure. We may find out in an hour so once I finish the consecration."
Rachel set down her pack and unpacked a collection of tiny bronze incense burners, a set of white candles in wide bowls, and a pot of silver pigment. She looked around the room, judging its readiness. She spotted the femur-bone at the feet of Munditio, and stepped forward to pick it up.
She stepped back quickly again as her fingers touched the bone, when Cleodora appeared immediately there accompanied by a startled "where did she go?" from Livia in the next room. Livia returned, rushing over to find out what had happened, and then translated her quick discussion with Cleodora for the others.
"That's part of her, and she says she wants to leave it here. I tried to explain that you're consecrating this room and that it might harm her, but she insists that she doesn't want to abandon it. In fact she's asking me if she can help you."
Rachel squinted suspiciously. "I don't meet a lot of elves or ghosts. Is she plotting something?"
"I don't think she is," Livia answered hesitantly.
"I also doubt this is a scheme," Bote agreed. "She has defied her natural death all this time with the single-minded purpose of this place's care and restoration. Balnea Infernala offers that. I believe Cleodora is sincere."
Rachel considered for a moment, then nodded. "All right, if the goddess will allow it. Tell Cleodora to follow my direction, and she can place the candles and incense. Everyone else will need to leave the room until we're done."
"Is it all right if I watch?" Al asked.
Bote gave him a just enough of a smirk to suggest teasing. "Ah, perhaps your trials kindle an interest in the service of the divine plans?"
"No! I mean, no offense meant or anything, but I still would rather stay away from the attention of gods. I'm just curious how the consecration ritual works."
Gruntle gladly went with Wikwocket *away* from Cleodora to continue escorting the survey crew as they made their way around the Lavatio taking measurements and observations. That left Al, Bote, and Livia to watch the ritual from the changing-room doorway. Al's eyes had trouble following what was happening in the room at first, lit only by a bit of sunlight that made its way in from the entrance. Through Livia, Cleodora was asked to fetch clean water, which was poured into the bowls around the candles. Cleodora distributed the candles in their bowls and the incense burners around the room according to Rachel's directions, and Rachel began the ritual.
One by one, Rachel lit each candle and incense-stick, and used her fingers to mark a swirling pattern around each with the silver pigment. Without interruption, she repeated chant that sounded more like flowing, splashing water than speech. Al noticed the broad similarities with the wizardry rituals he was familiar with, particularly the repeating patterns that helped to focus one's intent. The difference seemed to be Rachel's attention, which in contrast to the way wizards approached it was hardly there at all, as if she was in a trance. Al guessed that this was because it was the goddess herself whose attention was required, and the priestess was serving as a tool for the purpose. The process was slow and repetitive, but continued smoothly, and Al noticed how the golden glow of the candle-light reflected from the bowls of water seemed to brighten and the thin wisps of white incense-smoke seemed to sparkle each time the process completed around them.
Al had begun to get tired of standing by the time the last candle and incense-burner was brought into the ritual and Rachel returned to the center of the room to invoke the goddess.
"Balnea Infernala, we beseech you to accept and bless this home we have prepared for your holy presence!"
Cleodora vanished as golden flames erupted from the femur-bone, consuming it in a moment and leaving no trace that it had been there. Despite no obvious change in the room, Al thought it felt warmer and more welcoming than it had before. He turned to look back, wondering if the ghost was gone, only to cry out startled to find her right behind him, looking over his shoulder. At least she didn't seem hurt or angry. If anything, Al thought her translucent face seemed wistful. She reached towards the doorway into the room, but then seemed to change her mind and pulled her spectral hand back, and spoke.
"She's asking which room is next," Livia translated.