Diaries of
Izella Burnholdt
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And now, without further ado, today's article:
The following reports, made by Izella Burnholdt, a member of the Order of the Cleansing Hand in good standing, arrived at the imperial palace three nights past carried by a spectral hawk.
12/5/1535
Today we arrived in the city of Manon, following reports of a rash of unexplained murderers and disappearances. Starek doubts that it is anything the Order of the Cleansing Hand needs to get involved in, and that we should leave it to the guards. I am less certain. Of the bodies that have been found, all of them had their throat torn out, or so say the reports. While Starek may be right and it may just be a matter for the town guard, I can’t help but feel that this may be some kind of witchcraft or cult ritual, or that it could be some kind of supernatural foe the guards are ill-equipped to deal with.
We arrived late, so I haven’t had a chance to check in with any of the local members of the Order, or to question the town guard. The owner of the inn we’re staying at, a man named Ognan, didn’t seem to know very much about the disappearances, except that they were “bad for business.” Tomorrow we will begin our investigation in earnest.
12/6/1535
It’s starting to look like I was right to investigate here. The resident member of the Order, Ignatius Katof, supposedly abandoned his post three months ago, which is about the time the disappearances started. I spoke with a Father Joszek at a local chapter of the Order of the Blessed Reversal, which is where Ignatius had been staying. He claimed that Ignatius had seemed restless for several weeks leading up to his disappearance, which is why no one had thought much of it. I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds that explanation particularly convenient. I will have to find some way to learn more about this Father Joszek and the people of his order.
After the troubling discovery of Ignatius’ disappearance, Starek and I went to the local guard barracks. Apparently no less than 37 people have been killed or gone missing in the last three months, and there are some indications that some of the travelers leaving the city may never have reached their destination. This is far too widespread to be a single killer. I am more convinced than ever that some sort of foul cult activity is behind this. I’ve asked the guard captain to have someone put together information on all of the victims just in case, but I don’t have high hopes.
Starek has been in a foul mood ever since we arrived. Part of it is probably the weather: he’s always on edge when the clouds are thick but don’t rain. No doubt part of it is that he hoped to be back in the capital in time for the Festival of the Red Blade, as he used to belong to the Order of the Vengeful Fist before he joined with the Order. It isn’t anything of import, he understands his duty and will fulfill it, but it doesn’t make the silent, brooding meals together any more pleasant.
Most of the murders apparently happen at night, so we’ll rest for a few hours and then head out into the night and hope we get lucky.
12/7/1535
Nothing of import happened last night, unless we count a light drizzle and fog. A messenger from the guard captain arrived with the information I asked for, but it will take some time to look it over. In the meantime, Starek is going to go talk to the families and friends of the victims to see if he can learn anything.
12/7/1535
The reports the guards gave me indicate that over one-third of the people who were killed belonged to a local order called the Order of the Anointed Path. If Starek hasn’t learned anything, I think our next course of action will be to infiltrate this order. Even if they aren’t directly involved, with such a large number of the victims coming from this order it seems like the best place to start looking. I wish someone had noticed this earlier: things are always easier when we know we’ll need to adopt fake identities in advance. It’s not that the magical disguises are all that difficult, it’s just that I hate having to remember to respond to assumed names.
12/10/1535
Starek and I have successfully infiltrated the Order of the Anointed Path as Teresa and Harold, a brother and sister who are new in town and were told that this was one of the better orders in the town. I don’t believe that they suspect anything, but it never hurts to be careful. The Order seems to be run by a Father Kacek, who insisted that since we were new and didn’t have a place to stay we should take rooms at the temple. This isn’t exactly ideal, since almost none of the murdered people were rooming at the temple, but it would be too suspicious to refuse, all things considered.
This also makes it harder to find safe time to write reports. The members of the order are kept relatively busy, and of course in the dormitories there is only so much privacy. So far I haven’t been able to do much investigating, but I have at least been able to determine that their sermons don’t seem to have any heretical information in them. Of course, cults rarely do, so until I’m allowed into the inner circles it will be impossible to say for certain.
I’ve begun to hear some odd noises in the night. They are very soft, and only occur very late. If I weren’t such a light sleeper I’m sure I’d have slept through them. It sounds like a very soft, very distant moan, like livestock, perhaps. I’ll have to look into it.
12/12/1535
Starek has vanished. He went out to bring in more water last night and never returned. There was no sign of any attack, but I fear the worst. I’m certain he hasn’t deserted, so something must have happened to him. I need to find out what’s going on here quickly.
I tried following the noises last night, and they led me into the main hall of the temple. The sound was still faint, but it seemed to be coming from below me. I searched the room for half an hour looking for some kind of secret door, but I didn’t find any.
I’m going to confront Kacek tonight, in his study. I think it’s time to put an end to this.
12/13/1535
I hope this is able to reach someone. I confronted Kacek and he was genuinely shocked at the idea, or else had magic strong enough to break my zone of truth spell. After the confrontation he got upset and told me that I should leave. I didn’t like going when I hadn’t found out everything I wanted to know yet, but I didn’t have much of a case against him and so I had no choice but to go.
As I was leaving to return to the inn, I heard the same noise as before, though much clearer this time. It was certainly no animal, but sounded almost musical. I realize now that I must have only been hearing part of it before. It sounded…rich, enchanting, and vaguely ethereal. And it was definitely coming from a chorus of voices. I quickly found the source of the strange music: an iron grate leading into Manon’s sewers, not more than fifty paces from the temple of the Order of the Anointed Path. A quick knock spell granted me access to the sewers. They were brick and mortar, just under five feet deep, meaning I had to stoop a little. They weren’t lit, either. If it weren’t for the singing, I don’t think I would ever have seen the cave entrance: rough-hewn and jagged, it opened into a downward sloping tunnel.
It wasn’t a very long one, and before long it opened up into a large chamber, lit by torches. The tunnel came out about halfway up the chamber wall, with long, sloped pathways curving down to the floor along the outer walls. I crouched and hid behind a rock on the ledge and looked down on a scene from a nightmare.
In the center of the chamber was a stone altar, its top carved to resemble a gaping, fanged maw, hollowed slightly to form a sort of trough. The figure of a man lay in this recess, and surrounding him were no less than two dozen men and women, their eyes glowing a faint red as they continued their eerie chant. Someone had hung flags from the walls of the chamber, and even in the dim light it was clear that they bore the image of a red, winged eye on a black background. Even worse, there were dozens of exits from the chamber, and a steely fear gripped my stomach as I realized that I might not even be looking at all of the vampires in this hellish place.
That’s what they were. Vampires. I could tell just from the eyes, but it became more clear later. Two figures had stood away from the others. One handed a knife or small blade to the other, and motioned for him to move towards the altar. Outnumbered as I was, I dared not interfere. As the figure moved out of the shadows and into better light I was barely able to stop a strangled cry of surprise from escaping my throat. Starek held the knife aloft in one hand, his eyes glowing a faint red. The knife plunged down into the man’s throat. He let out a gurgled cry. The dark figures rushed forward and began lapping up the blood from the trough-altar, fighting and jostling each other for position. Starek himself drank the lion’s share. Overcome by fear and revulsion, I fled. I’d like to say that I thought only of calling in reinforcements and cleansing that unholy place with the fires of Kyldion, but all I thought was that I needed to get away, that I was going to be sick.
As I charged up the tunnel I ran straight into a vampire. Had he been waiting from me, or was it coincidence? I don’t know. I didn’t recognize him, which was a relief, after Starek. He grabbed me by the wrist, and with my other hand I shot a bolt of fire at his face. He recoiled from the blow, but his grip only tightened, and he latched his other claw onto my free hand. The fight wasn’t long.
I’m being held in one of the small caverns under the city. By the time anyone receives this report I will probably be dead, or worse. But this infestation of vampires must be destroyed. There are at least three dozen of them, and some of them are quite powerful. Kyldion preserve us all.