Ch: 125 St James Infirmary

“As a class C or greater threat, we will take command if we see the need to, no debates, no heroics.” Khan glared at the musician in particular as he spoke.

“Form up! We will get to the root of this today, or we will withdraw and request a strike team from War.”

Khan, Luna and Bannock were supervising, while Liam, Dannyl and Tallum took lead. Shai and Ivy had the middle with Tawny, while Gary had the veterans breathing down his neck the whole way.

Once they slid down, Luna pushed past him and removed her eyepatch. “Stay behind me boy, I get queasy when I really look at you. I don’t want to vomit on your shoes.”

They trooped past the bone strewn section and the warriors lit their glowstones. Tallum had a big one set in his shield and another on his helmet. Dannyl’s hatband lit in three places, illuminating his vicinity, while the brim left his face in shadow… very mysterious. Each warrior had a glowstone or two set in their gear, except Gary, he seemed at ease in the darkness.

The grotty, bone scattered fissure opened into an equally unpleasant passage. Worked stone with rubble and sticky, slippery mud led to a long curved, descending passage, with a flagstone floor.

Dannyl led the troop, quietly scouting forward in his silent, cloth and haunted plywood armor.

“Clear so far, opening in ten yards.” He whispered into his tiny silver collar button and a tiny drum on the belt of a member of each section, repeated the words softly. Back at the inn, the harmonium relayed to the listening home team, gathered in the common room.

“Moving closer, it’s an open chamber, big. I’m pulling back.”

Dannyl’s voice carried clearly, while a tiny ear cuff brought Liam’s reply whispering back.

“We will advance to you, fall back and wait.”

“Gary, any input?” Liam asked.

The madman’s unseen, vampire bat companion was fluttering around somewhere, carried along hidden in the big musician’s shadow, until they got underground and in full darkness. Her unnatural senses provided a dizzying amount of information about her surroundings.

Xyll relayed that back to Gary by some means. He called it Ultra Sonic Magical Communications… or ‘Hoorah!’ for some reason, the boy was really weird.

“No movement, something is stopping her from entering the chamber, otherwise nothing.” He whispered into his button.

#

Back at the inn, Herlick, Nara and Becky were supervising the kids, with all the mounts ready to run and everyone kitted out for action, just in case.

They huddled near the Harmonium, listening in to the ‘comms’, or so Gary called the latest variation in his ‘audio transmission’ experiments.

“Every band should be outfitted with this ‘Comms’ spell.” Herlick muttered in a quiet moment.

“It’s not a spell or gift, it’s a set of enchanted objects, Shai, Ivy and I are still trying to figure out how it works.” Becky whispered. “He’s gonna bargain hard if Order and War want a taste, they really rubbed him the wrong way...”

“Shush, It’s back on!” Amy chirped in four year old frustration, while her two brothers nodded in agreement and Annie snuffled her thoughts through the window.

#

They linked up, reforming as a compact unit, with Luna scouting, accompanied by the invisible bat creature haunting the boy. She slipped in, crossing the archway into the darkened chamber, without incident. The canny veteran ran her withered, arcane eye over the space, finding little of value and no obvious threat.

With an idle flick of her wrist, she dropped a lit glowstone behind herself, signaling the others to approach. “Room is clear, three exits.” The warrior said as they entered.

The room was clear… of threats. There was stuff everywhere. Decrepit piles sprinkled with flecks of faded rust that were once nails indicated crates were stacked in this room, at some distant point in the past. Even Axio had no guess as to how long ago this place had been last visited by men.

The flagstone floor was worn in obvious paths through the detritus filled room, some furrows were deep enough for the unwary to trip in.

“This place is weird.” Gary mumbled, as he stood back up from his brief rest break and dusted the crud off himself.

The room formed a blunted cone, lined with blocks of the local granite. The quarry work and stone fitting was excellent but unornamented. Obvious air vents and lightwells were choked with vines and roots, plugged entirely by the invasive haunted fig tree.

One entrance led to a smaller storeroom, also filled with what was once some kind of… the predominance of clay and glass shards suggested food stores, but after so long it was all just organic and inorganic matter.

The second was a rough fissure in the wall, clearly hacked from the other side with simple tools and little skill. Beyond was a natural cavern, littered with the decayed remnants of rude huts and stains where corpses had lain for centuries, until disturbed.

“This would be where the redcaps burrowed in. They hide underground in desolate places, sending out raiding parties in the dark. I guess they found a great place to hide.” Khan chuckled darkly.

“Those corpses lay there for… call it ten years, around eight hundred years or so ago.” Axio said firmly. “They fell where they were slain, no doubt by the slug. I would guess they have been up and wandering these halls off and on, seeking escape or prey, since then.” He pointed off in the cavern, to a similar rift also choked with rubble and golden roots.

“That fig tree will let the living enter… if they are brave or mad enough. Nothing dead may leave without its permission, I must have one...” The little grave spirit was just entranced by the thing, his eyes shone a ghastly bluish green in excitement.

“I feel you Axio, maybe Shai will let us…”

“Tis nae the time nor place boy!” She barked… she was smiling though.

#

The third doorway was a wide portal of worked local stone, leading to another hallway of well fitted blocks. They formed up, as it stretched into the darkness, this time curving up in the other direction. Dannyl took the lead with Luna again, until it ended at another rockfall overgrown with roots and an archway, like the others. Unlike the others, they were unable to pass.

“I see a magical barrier of some kind… it seems inimical to both life and unlife.” Luna whispered, standing at Dannyl’s shoulder in the darkened hall. Just ahead the passage ended in a solid mass of stone, wound with tree roots so thick and dense nothing could pass. An archway of the same simple stonework led into a dark chamber, mere yards before the obstruction.

“We may need to use the boy…” She muttered to Khan.

“Not yet… Shai, you've been studying this stuff, take a look.” Khan spoke softly, letting the mad boy’s trinkets carry his voice to her. She nodded briskly, sheathed her longer blade and slipped through her comrades, taking point, while Gary stewed in frustration.

“Aye, a ward indeed, though I dinnae ken it’s craft. Summat of both life an death, comingled and warped intae a barrier. I nae kin breech it… save wi great danger.” Her whispered report made Khan and Bannock both, grind their teeth in frustration.

“Shai, Tallum, Luna, supervise him… closely.” Khan finally said, swatting the trembling, eager lad on his armored shoulder.

Gary darted forward in near silence, weaving through his comrades and settling in beside Shai with a soft sigh of relief. “Dinnae get frisky, ye will nae be a combatant, save there be real need.” Tallum and Luna both grunted their agreement, lurking right behind him.

“Ok, I get it… let me get to work.” He slipped up to the archway and tried to peer inside. Only blank darkness and some indefinable sense of a large empty, boring room met his eyes. His senses shivered and screamed that this place was ForbiddenDangerousUncleanOminousWrongAlien…

“Oh man… that is complex. It’s not a ward, it’s a tapestry of wards, so many and woven so tight. This must have taken…” He fell silent as he studied the unseen thing blocking their progress. After a long minute he nodded and stepped back to the group.

“I can break it, but not without an explosive result… it would probably take most of the hilltop off so, no. I can make a door… no that’s not right… lemme think for a bit.” He pulled a few camp chairs from his ass and took a seat, right in the hall.

“Nothin can pass that barrier, I mean nothin, it forms a complete enclosure around that chamber, sealing it off entirely. That thing is crazy complicated and old, so very old. It was built up in layers over centuries, by one entity. Whatever is inside is ancient, smart and not interested in receiving visitors.” He passed around tea and cakes, while he bounced ideas off his friends.

“There’s only one trailing thread, and that was the thing chaining that gross slug here. That was a work of incredible artistry too. Whatever is in there had a hand… or something, in the haunted fig tree too. That was planted there and kept as a guardian against undead escapees.”

He paused for some tea, while Axio nodded and took up his faint idea.

“Yes, the tree is a magical creature, but only partially natural, its development was guided by some unknown force for its entire life… and a few prior generations.” A tiny puff of spores shot from Axio’s ‘ears’ as he spoke, betraying his keen interest.

“The biology and spiritual complexity of such a working is deeply interesting and reflects something of its creator, I think. A conversation with such an entity could prove fascinating…”

“Hold up nerds… Shai, talk some sense into those two.” Becky’s voice rang out clear from the comms rig, startling a few of the troop. “I don’t like where this talk is headed.”

“Aye, ye speak of ‘taking the hilltop off’ an ‘explosions’ then do prattle on about chatting wi summat unknown and unwelcoming. Fools an greater than fools, the both of thee.” Shai glared at the pair of them and snorted.

“That tree was cultivated over who knows how many centuries, specifically to keep dangerous undead from leaving this ruin. It lures them in, digests them and excretes whatever harmless spiritual remnants are left. Whoever grew that tree is probably a pretty cool… whatever they are.” He smiled at the tangled, golden roots blocking the passage.

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“Xyll says that tree feels like home, I like this place too. I just wanna ring the bell, not kick down the door.” He smiled again, that slightly sad, mad grin. “Permission to knock and see if they wanna chat?”

Shai looked to the three veterans who shrugged and nodded, Liam also nodded, followed by the rest of the team. “Very well boy, ye…-”

“Vetoed!” Becky snapped from across a quarter mile of rocky hillside. “Nobody does anything. Not till I get there with the little ones.”

Gary and Shai both barked incoherent negatives into their buttons, overloading the system briefly. “I didn’t think so…” She answered smugly, when the echo died.

“At least you aren’t mind controlled or being influenced. Now think again, before you decide to knock on any doors.” Becky signed off with a disgruntled snort.

“A high priestess indeed…” Bannock muttered with a smile. “She gives me hope for the rest of you.”

“Aye, she hae wisdom an smarts enough fer us tae lean on, best we listen an think again, boy of mine.” Shai hugged him close, savoring his warmth in the damp underground. “Shall we invite them fer tea? Or slip away, having at least learnt summat?”

“I still say we ask, we signed on to finish the job, Morrigan and Beast both asked me to turn over this rock…” He pulled his weird earthenware crock out again and set it on the passage floor between his feet.

“Compromise… I don’t knock, we try a tired old stunt instead…”

“Oh gods… no, permission denied, if you strum that thing one time…” The boy had his Banshee out, tuning up with a sublime smile. Luna turned to Shai for help and saw her holding that damn violin out for her man to tune, with an impatient tap of her foot.

Amy’s high, chiming voice cut through the sounds of the band tuning up. “What are we playing? ‘Knock Three Times’? I like Tony Ornandodo and Dawn!”

“No sweety, but that’s a great choice. You don’t know this one. I can’t reach you from here so just listen, ok? We’ll do a fun one later.” Gary cooed to the children with a happy smile. “I like Tony Orlando and Dawn too, but not this time, this calls for ‘The Cusack Maneuver’, in D major.”

Music swelled from the little troupe of weirdos, following their pet down a rabbit hole.

I get so tired of working so hard for our survival,

I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive…

And all my instincts, they return!

And the grand facade, so soon will burn,

Without a noise, without my pride…

I reach out from the inside!

Something stirred in the strangely obscured portal, responding to Gary’s gentle tug on the trailing end of the slug’s magical shackle. The archway rippled and swiftly vanished, in an overgrowth of trailing roots and creepers of golden fig.

One thick creeper sprouted a single fig in the dark hallway, it swelled to the size of a swan’s egg in mere seconds, dangling there, like an invitation.

With a grin, the musician cracked the lid of his big clay crock, letting a single fat bee escape. It buzzed in a circle around him and landed on an outstretched finger. “Ok buddy, here goes.” He whispered softly to his buzzing friend.

The black insect took off, making its clumsy way to the fruit, dangling there innocently. It landed and climbed right down and into the small crimson orifice on the fruit’s underside.

After a long moment, the fig blackened and withered, crumbling to ash in seconds, along with the entangling roots and vines. Pale silvery light shone from the archway, sickly and wan, even in the underground hall.

The musician kept strumming and stood, heading for the now open portal. “Not so fast!” Luna called, bustling forward to enter first. She bumped face first into nothing and rebounded, landing on her bottom with an armored clatter.

Gary stopped, just beyond the doorway and called out into the obscured room. “All of us or none of us pal, this is more than a social call…” He turned to Bannock and whispered: “Do your ‘I Am The Law’ thing… you know you wanna.”

With a sigh of exasperation and an eager smile, Bannock got ready for the part of the job that made it all worthwhile.

“Attention entity, this is a lawful investigation of occult activity, under the laws of man, Order and the god of Beasts, I request entry for an interview. You have the right to refuse, barring imminent threat of injury or death to any sentient under my jurisdiction.”

The lanky knight got it all out in one unhurried breath, smooth and clear like the best beat poetry.

From the portal a faint gasping whisper came: “Sorry, didn’t catch that, do you speak Q’wuifler, no? How about Haoung`ma or Jrellish?”

Bannock just stood there, looking confused. Finally Gary nudged the knight. “You gonna answer? Ohh, shit… you’ve never heard that before, have you? A foreign language, I mean…” He turned to the portal and made a series of hideous sounds that must have been painful for a human throat.

His huge woman patted the beleaguered warrior cleric’s armored shoulder, shaking their whole body with each comradely blow.

“It be a thing unknown in these lands, though the beastkin hae many tongues and dialects. He do even speak eldritch jellyfish, as ye recall.”

“I thought that was an elaborate farce… He can really…?” Shai wrapped a massive arm around her armored friend and led the way inside, following the troupe.

#

It was a well appointed study, decorated with tasteful, upholstered furniture and lovely abstract tapestries. Wood paneling and lacquered beams gave the room a cozy, welcoming feel despite the furniture being upset in some past struggle and tossed carelessly to the edges of the room.

Bookshelves bowed just a little, under a comfortable weight of bound volumes and sewn together manuscripts.

Lanterns and glowstones shed a feeble light, as though their enchantments were failing despite looking as new as could be.

Dark stains and splintered woodwork suggested a fierce battle fought here and hastily cleared away. When, was impossible to say, everything in the room was pristine, free of dust, decay, or mold and intact, save for the desk in the center of the room.

In a ring of salt and clotted blood, a man was stretched over the heavy fig wood desk, his ribcage hacked open and still glistening with blood and ritual components. Whatever ropes or cords bound him there once were long gone, replaced by twining fig roots.

From his shattered torso, a long taproot thrust up, through his blackened heart, through the wooden ceiling and up into the mass of stone and earth above. Most likely, directly into that fig tree.

As they entered, the corpse’s head turned and its eyes popped open with a mad gleam hiding behind the glassy, milky orbs.

“Thank the gods… at long last, I thought I had finally gone mad again… again… again… but the slug is dead… dead… wait, how are you dead too… dead like me?”

Tawny tried to rush to the creature, but Gary and Luna held her back. “He knows he’s dead, he’s for me.” The madman whispered. “Can we have some privacy, this is kinda delicate.”

Most of the troop filed out, until only Shai and Bannock remained. “It really is best done privately, friend…” Gary insisted until Shai hushed him.

“Look at the man’s robes, boy. He were a priest of Order, though I dinnae recognize the style of his temple. Bannock hae every right an the obligation of a fallen brother.” Shai hugged the tall knight and began turning furniture upright, while Gary got to work.

He handed the knight a small round object with a hollow stem poking out. “You put your mouth on that and…”

“I’m not smoking any of your dubious herbs down here boy, are you mad… don’t answer that.” Bannock snapped in hushed fury.

“It’s a whistle… dummy, a magical tool that will help you communicate with our new friend. Put your fingers just like this and blow softly, for a second or two, no more.”

The sound was beautifully horrid and terrifyingly pleasant, like lying on a patch of sun warmed lawn, over a fresh grave.

“Gods… every time it sends the worst feelings through my bones… it’s even worse playing the damn thing.”

“So you do speak Q’wuifler, after all… poor manners for a fellow Order adherent. I don’t recognize your armor… How long has it been?” The amiable corpse was lucid again, chatting happily in his language with the confused Order knight.

Gary pulled a broom out of nowhere and began sweeping up the salt and less wholesome ritual components. Shai used her shovel to pry the melted stubs of human tallow candles and clotted blood, mixed with pitch and ash from the flagstones. It all went into a pail and was handed off to the crew waiting at the surface.

“Oh, thank you, it was very difficult to focus through that damn circle.” He shot Shai a wink and a smile from his bloodless face.

“Now if you would just chop me up and burn the remains… be sure to mix my ashes with salt and sink them in the sea…” He blinked in confusion and distress when Gary strolled back in from discarding the pail of ritual crap.

“Look out! Behind you!” He yelled, pointing with his chin at the musician. “Abomination, an unclean entity possessing human form, beware…”

Gary came close and sank onto his heels by the undead man’s face. “It’s cool, I’m here to help, let me introduce myself…”

He began a slow, melancholy song on his haunted guitar, tracing the chords with Will, magic and a hint of bubbling chaos from beyond time and space.

Folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary,

See my baby there;

She's stretched out on a long, white table,

She's so sweet, so cold, so fair.

The song drifted in its minor keys, brushing up against the edges of dissonance and atonality, before swaying back into the realms of mortal music. Each wild and rambling digression brought the entity closer to lucid clarity

Now, when I die, bury me in my straight-leg britches,

Put on a box-back coat and a stetson hat,

Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain,

So you can let all the boys know I died standing pat.

“What are you, some wight or revenant? But so lifelike… does necromancy flourish in the open? What have things come to, while I battled that filthy demon?” The sacrificed man was mystified and entranced by the strange creature’s performance.

The musician kept playing his sad song and slowly easing his own threads of power and madness in among the tangled mass of magic infesting the room.

If anyone should ask you,

Tell 'em I've got those St. James Infirmary blues.

He wound down his song and fell into a free form interpretation of ‘Sweet Georgia Brown’. He spoke gently to the man, while easing into one of the amazingly well preserved chairs.

“I suspect you have been braver and stronger than anyone could expect of you... Tell me your tale while I finish unwinding the chains binding you here.” The gentle music and teasing magic eased the man’s uncertainty, soothing him.

#

“I am… was the lord of this green and pleasant land, the barony of… of… deuce, can’t remember. But in any case, these lush groves and orchards are my birthright and beloved home.” He nodded in approval.

“I like this music... You no doubt saw my tidy little castle and lovely town as you approached… so picturesque, I should like to see the sun rise in the banana groves again, just once more.” He sighed somehow, despite the state of him.

“A party of travelers arrived, headed by a ducal tax collector of all people. They asked for hospitality and I granted it, of course… how could I not? How indeed could I not. I diddn’t know… diddiin’t know…” He stuttered to a halt. Sobbing gently.

“We know, brother, we know. You fought with everything you had, didn’t you?” Bannock whispered, sitting close and listening attentively.

“Oh yes, I did, they never suspected I was a mage, why should I tell them? After the things they did to my family, my servants… my pets…” He shuddered and sobbed again.

“I had my revenge. They were consumed by their summoned filth when I broke their imperfect circle… and consumed by me and my lovely tree, when they sought their final escape in death.” He let loose a mad giggle of rage and sorrow.

“I had time… so very much time to plan and work my arts. The thing was bound to my life, it couldn't be free to savage my people if I refused to die, now could it? It’s only fair, my pain for its, tradesies are fair play! Nice and balanced, very orderly. So orderly… Thank you for tidying up young lady. Did you help kill the slug?”

He never gave Shai a chance to answer, he just kept slowly rambling on, his voice growing softer with every few bars of music.

“Where are my temple brothers? I’d think they would come see, gods, I hope they don’t see, it’s so embarrassing.”

“Don’t worry buddy, we’ll tidy up better before they get here… Hey, would you like to take a walk in my garden? I don’t have a banana grove but the orchard is nice.”

He took the man’s bound hand in his and stood up, leaving the corpse behind. The musician gently pulled a shadowy form into the space beside the wreckage of a very brave man.

“Step into my shadow, let’s go for a walk in the sun and chat, your work has ended. I’ll stay with you till the sun comes up, just one more time, brother.”

All the rich tapestries and carpets, the neatly shelved books and polished furniture, it all began to decay and crumble as they left the room. Even the fine wood paneling and shelves collapsed with exhausted, dusty sounds, as they became desiccated remnants, then simply dust.

Only the desk remained, glowing vibrantly in waxed and shining splendor, with the mighty tree springing from its top. Of the unnamed corpse, not even dust lingered…

#

Gary strolled under the fig tree, caressing its gleaming bark. “You do fine work my friend. Very clever and very brave. Come on, I promised you a tour of my garden.”

The boy’s shadow was a little shorter and thinner than it should have been and when cast in profile, the features were not right…

Even stranger, it didn’t get up to any of its usual pranks and jokes. The team was so accustomed to its constant shadow puppets and ridiculous pratfalls, they paid only passing attention to the silliness. Now his shadow was sober and decorous, even… dignified.

“I like this guy, but why is he sticking around?” Becky asked quietly while Gary and his shadow were watching the sun go down over the moors.

“I promised we’d watch the sunrise in the orchard together, before he goes on to the next thing. We owe him at least that much.” He leaned into the small girl sitting beside him, squashing her just a little, the way she liked.

“All night jam sesh?” She asked in the still evening.

“I think Figaro would like that.” Gary shrugged when Becky raised an eyebrow at the name. “He can’t remember his name or house, so...”

“Ok. I’ll put the little ones to bed, his story is not for them.” She stood and prepared to go, when his hand caught hers.

“I love you Becky. I said it before, whatever happens to me… you, Shai and my kids are all that matters. Always remember that, I’m on your side and theirs always…”

He was playing that sad song again, singing softly to his shadow.

An' give me six crap shooting pall bearers,

Let a chorus girl sing me a song.

Put a red hot jazz band at the top of my head

So we can raise Hallelujah as we go along.

Folks, now that you have heard my story,

Tell 'em I've got those St. James Infirmary blues.

#