The desiccated husks of the three ghouls lay partially obscured behind a hastily erected awning near an alleyway, a stones throw away from the maze like morass of the slums. Inquisitor Deroch strode through the gawking crowd and perimeter guards, and was attended by three Paladins equipped for combat.
A clean shaven Priest in his mid-twenties, who Deroch recognised as a promising up and coming individual turned to greet him warmly with a smile. “Greetings Inquisitor, I arranged for this awning to be put in place, but I’m afraid they’ve deteriorated considerably due to sunlight.”
“Brother Benli was it?” Deroch was impressed by the initiative of the devout man, “You did well to cover up the scene. Now, tell me what you know about the events that occurred here.”
Flustered by the praise and the fact that the Inquisitor remembered his name, Priest Benli leapt into his report, “At first light, I was performing the daily rites of consecration as a preventative measure against ghouls and aberrations. That was when I heard a scream from the direction of the slums and these dry husks scattered down the alleyway.”
“When you say you heard the scream down there, was it a man or a woman?” The Inquisitor stared at the looming entrance to the slums dominating the far side of the street from where they stood.
“It was a woman’s voice, unfortunately I was unable to see her.”
“Good. Brother Benli, I know you are familiar with this district and that you do good work around here. The denizens trust you.” Deroch nodded in the direction of the slums, “I want you to assist the Paladins in canvassing the area and finding that witness.” He placed a heavy hand on the devout Priest’s shoulder and indicated to the three Paladins that he would be fine on his own.
Watching the four figures receding into the dark warren of haphazardly stacked dwellings, Deroch turned his considerable attention to the corpses littering the alleyway. He moved the awning aside and crouched down to inspect the nearest ghoul, and was dismayed to find it crumble to fine ash from the lightest touch.
‘Very peculiar…’ he mused, noting the orientation of the ghouls. They were all facing away from the slums, as if fleeing from an unknown source. There was very little that could strike fear in a corpse eater and the Inquisitor’s heart sank further in dark suspicion.
Hearing the sounds of consternation behind him, Deroch emerged from the covered alleyway to find his long-time friend Pashta wade through the guard perimeter.
“How are you doing old friend?” Deroch greeted the Wolfman Priest, whose defining feature was a withered left arm. It was a congenital defect, and had caused his abandonment to the same orphanage Deroch grew up in. He was similarly in his forties, with a smattering of silver grey fur around his mane.
“I can’t complain.” Pashta sniffed, scrunching up his moist snout. “I was organizing the old archives when your assistant said you might need my help. Honestly Deroch… I’m getting too old for fieldwork these days.” The Wolfman complained genially.
“Now, don’t be like that. There are hardly any priests in the service with your level of tracking ability. It is only natural I count on you from time to time.” Deroch swept aside the awning with a soft smile and invited Pashta in to the scene of the crime.
The Wolfman crouched down and carefully sniffed around, accidentally inhaling a lungful of ghoul dust. Deroch stifled a smile at the sight of his old friend hacking at the disgusting scent and smoothed his gaunt features with a concealing hand.
“They came from the slums alright, that means they were fleeing from whatever was chasing them.” Pashta eventually said once his breathing was under control.
“That was my suspicion as well, do you think you can track where they came from?”
Pashta ruefully glared at Deroch, wrinkling his nose in disgust. To ask a wolfman to step into decaying miasma of the slums was a tall order. He would have declined outright if it hadn’t been a request from his longtime friend.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Fine, but you owe me.” Pashta sniffed and stepped back out into the main street.
The Inquisitor motioned a Priest over and left instructions for samples to be taken and the ghouls cleared away. There was little purpose in blocking the street, and he had gained everything necessary from the scene of the crime. The two crossed the road into the ominous shadow of the slums.
“Have you picked up the scent?” Deroch asked impatiently while the Wolfman took a deep breath and panted slightly to acclimatise to the new environment.
“Yes… I think it is that way.” Pashta pointed to his right with his good arm and sauntered down a claustrophobic passageway that eventually widened into a small square. The Wolfman sniffed around for traces of grave rot that led him to a dead end after many minutes of wading through filth.
“You always pick me for the best jobs…” Pashta wrinkled his muzzle and inspected his shoes soaked in urine. “The trail runs cold, and the ghouls didn’t venture further from here.”
“That means our lead resides in one of the many houses we’ve passed along the way.” Deroch inferred and mentally downgraded the resources needed to canvass the area. They returned to the main street and was met by Priest Benli and the three accompanying Paladins.
“Did you uncover any leads?”
“Yes, we found the woman who screamed at the sight of the ghouls.” Priest Benli swept back his auburn hair, “Unfortunately, she didn’t witness much else because she immediately slammed the door shut.”
“Show me where she lives.” Deroch’s cold blue eyes glittered in anticipation while commanding the Paladins to follow.
Pashta wrinkled his nose at the thought of re-entering the slums, but kept close behind the group until Benli stopped at a door they had passed earlier while pursuing the scent of the ghouls. Deroch nodded knowingly at the Wolfman, confirming their earlier suspicion that the suspect lived along the path they had taken.
“This is enough brother… I greatly appreciate your assistance today.” Deroch clasped Pashta’s shoulder in a quick embrace. He didn’t want to risk the safety of his old friend in what would likely turn into a deadly confrontation.
“Take care of yourself, and call me out for a meal sometime, instead of chasing trails in the most wretched of places.” Pashta rubbed his muzzle while complaining genially. Then with a light double tap of his breast in benediction sauntered away back to the Cathedral.
“You should leave as well, Brother Benli… the place we are about to delve is no place for you.” Deroch turned his back to the promising Priest and gestured for the Paladin’s to draw their blades.
As a unit, the elite of the Church militia drew their swords and knelt in a semicircle around the Inquisitor, holding their blades aloft with both hands for the sacred anointment.
Priest Benli’s eyes widened at the solemn sight of an Inquisitor preparing for battle. It was a scene reminiscent of the tapestries adorning the Church, and the sight moved him with an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was one of yearning.
The warm radiance of faith was overwhelming as Deroch swept the glowing vial of blessed water across the weapons while channelling faith alongside a litany of prayers. In under a minute, each of them wielded a lightly glowing blessed weapon.
“Please, I can assist you. I know nearly every resident in this street.” The earnest Priest stepped forward, his features clear and unclouded. If there was to be a battle in this wretched place, Benli wanted to do everything to save innocent bystanders from the fallout.
Observing the clear eyed younger man, it was like looking through a mirror into the past. The grizzled Inquisitor pursed his thin lips in due consideration. Depending on the outcome of this case, Deroch had half a mind to induct the promising Priest into the Inquisition’s ranks.
“Stick close behind me, and run if we engage the enemy.” He instructed, then withdrew a thin brass circular disc from a side pouch.
Unlike the standard accumulators that featured multiple dials and navigational aids, this tool featured a single needle attached to an incredibly fine ratcheting mechanism that lined the inner circumference of the housing. When the Inquisitor channelled mana into the tool, the dial spun around fluidly, clicking softly from the well-oiled gears.
Eventually, the needle came to rest pointing in the direction of the Labyrinth Tower far away. Even out here in the outskirts, the tug exerted on the fabric of reality by the landmark Tower was too intense for an accurate reading. The Inquisitor rotated the bezel attached to the housing until it lined up with the needle. Now, in the presence of a strong Aberration the needle would deviate ever so slightly, and provide a clue to the direction of its presence.
Of course, not all Aberrations exerted a strong presence, like that slippery Witchdoctor who continually evaded his grasp. For entities such as him, there were two ways to approach it. One was to lure him to a town without a Labyrinth and Waystones protecting the road, and the other was to build a citywide detector capable of triangulation.
For the latter approach, his prototype had already yielded crude results. Now, it was just a matter of waiting for Exill to fall into the trap he had set.
Being careful to mask his emotions, Deroch formed a party with the three Paladins and Priest Benli. They advanced down the claustrophobic streets in a wedge formation, the silence punctuated by the ratcheting mechanism of the specialised accumulator.
“We’re getting close… and it is on our left.” Deroch whispered to the group.