Chapter 9
"And you sure there's nothing that sticks out?" I asked for what was likely the dozenth time.
"Are you doubting my researching abilities, especially when it comes to something related to monsters?" Ivar asked in challenge.
"No, and that is what is bugging me. We came here to learn more about the old manor before we actually deal with its former inhabitants… but we can't find any real reason why there should be a haunting in the first place."
Considering the fact I liked holding as many cards as I could before diving headfirst into potentially dangerous situation I asked Stig if he had any records about the old manor, or could at least point us to somewhere that would. Que us being directed towards the local city hall/courthouse and its records room that was overlooked by a rather sour elf clerk. The place handled the many day to day affairs of the city that were below the king's notice and our taking of a job at the request of the guard captain gave us access to everything relating to old manor, despite the elf's sneering at us messing up his organized system.
"Okay, let's recap. The manor used to be owned by a prominent merchant family who primarily dealt in cargo transport and middleman trading. A little over a decade ago, the head of family and business gets pretty ill, leaving the young and inexperienced son in charge of family finances for awhile. By the time the head of the family gets well again the son had made a number of poor decisions and even had an entire trading fleet lost to a winter storm on his go ahead. The father acts quickly to save family fortune and sells off enough business assets to cover his losses, along with selling the family home to the kingdom and moving them all into a smaller but still respectable home in Redania. The manor is basically filed away as property of the kingdom but nothing was really done with it until a little over a year ago, most likely selling it off to an interested party, where builders sent to clean up place run away claiming the place is haunted." I summed up.
"Basically, since then they have tried a number of ways to deal with the haunting. Sending in mercenaries, priests, even a mage at one point to try and clear them out. Most were scared off and a small amount never returned. After so long and so many failures, along with how it's now affecting trade traffic, I'm surprised they haven't just decided to torch the place. Not disappointed mind you, just surprised." Ivar stated.
"Greed is a good motivator, but assuming an actual Witcher doesn't solve this problem for them I can see them going that far. The thing that bugs me the most is that based on the records there is nothing to hint at why the manor would be haunted now. Specters are the souls of the dead that cling to the mortal world out of some strong desire to see their unfinished business fulfilled, usually stemming from anger relating to their death. However, none of the family died in suspicious ways there nor reported any haunting before they left and the same for any staff or visitors. In short there should be no haunting, just an old house… unless a monster or something moved in people mistook for a specter."
"Ohhh, and what would that be?!" Ivar suddenly asked excitedly.
"Not sure, not even Witchers are aware of every monster in the world. Or it really is a specter and we are simply missing something, not like we can go to Redania and ask the family directly." I sighed, "I guess we are going in blind after all."
"Oh don't be like that, after all, this could be an amazing discovery of an unknown monster! I do hope it is intelligent and coherent enough for a conversation! Oh how I wish I could speak to some monsters and get to know their inner thoughts!" Ivar said as he gathered up his things.
"They would most likely be all about which part of you to eat first." I quipped sarcastically.
I also made a mental note not to tell him of the talking ghoul of Vizima or else he would demand to detour there. I had no desire to be in a city that was Salamandra's center of operations.
"Most likely! Though I am unsure why this bothers you so much, did you not say you could destroy spirits with your sword and oils?" Ivar asked curiously.
"Technically yes, hit a specter enough times while it is solid with a weapon that doesn't interact with them well and its form will be destroyed. Keep in mind though that doesn't always put it down for good. Most of the time they are anchored to the world through a place or thing, usually their corpse or something of emotional significance to them in life. If that thing remains they could just reform later which is why I wanted to know the who and why so I could plan around that. It is usually easier to deal with specters that way, morally correct as well." I explained.
"Fascinating, also good motivation to make sure when I leave this mortal coil I have accomplished all I set out to do beforehand."
"Yeah well, who truly can say they have done that at death's door?" I asked rhetorically as we left the records room and headed out to manor.
---
The ride out of the city and down road that was particularly next to manor didn't take too long, about an hour at most given distance wasn't too far and road was deserted at night due to fear of haunting. We turned off the road and headed up a small hill till we arrived at the front gate of the manor.
It had certainly seen better days.
While it wasn't a crumbling ruin or anything like that, years of enduring the elements without care certainly wore it down a bit. Paint was washed away, making it look as if the building was melting, a couple of broken windows on all three floors, the front garden overgrown and wild with no tenders to sculpt it a certain shape, even the front iron gate looked a little rusty if still standing strong. It certainly appeared just like any old house… if one ignored the rotting corpses hanging from the top of the gate that have been thoroughly picked over by crows and other scavengers.
"I don't need Witcher senses to tell those are relatively fresh." Ivar complained as he covered his nose with this arm.
"Yes… but there is something else." I hopped off Griffin and crouched low to the ground. Examining it with eyes that saw better in fading light and could pick out better details. "Ground's disturbed, looks like footprints." I noted.
"Well that is to be expected, others have come and gone before us after all." Ivar argued.
"No, these are too fresh. In fact only a few hours at most…"
"Odd, Stig didn't say that- Markus! The windows!" Ivar suddenly shouted and pointed towards manor.
I stood up and through the gate could see a bright purple light pass along the second floor windows, windows lighting up and darkening as it passed by before fading out entirely.
"Magnificent! Was that the famed will-o-wisps?!" Ivar quickly pulled out his spyglass and attempted to see the source of the now gone lights.
"You do realize that that is just swamp gas combusting, right? Surely you have colleagues who have explained how that works and why it only happens in certain areas."
"Yes, yes. But wouldn't it be wondrous to see an actual example of a spirit moving about our world as nothing but a ball of light?!"
"Right up till it tries to kill you over some perceived slight. You know the drill, stay here till I say otherwise. Feel free to watch if you want from here as long as you don't move from this spot." I ordered as I pushed the gate open and walked inside.
"If you open communications with the spirit I demand to be present!" Ivar shouted after me and I pretended to ignore him.
I moved directly to the main entrance and up the front steps, still noticing signs of recent physical moment. Something magical was up based on the light itself so maybe there was a kinda flesh golem lurking around like the Caretaker from the game, that certainly had no problems killing trespassers after all.
Seeing no reason to be rude and if spirits were involved, I knocked loudly against the front door.
*Thump, thump, thump*
I waited a moment and found no answer; seeing how this house was supposed to be abandoned and was going to be fixed up anyhow…
"If there is anyone alive on the other side you may want to step to either the right or left of the door frame. That is my only fair warning!" I shouted.
No response. Well then, they only had themselves to blame.
One full powered Aard sign later and the door was broken off its hinges, blasted across the room and reduced to splinters.
"I know I could have melted the lock with Igni, but it wouldn't have been as fun." I talked aloud to myself as I walked inside.
"FOOLISH MORTAL! YOU DARE TRESPASS UPON THESE GROUNDS AND DESECRATE IT WITH YOUR ACTIONS! LEAVE THIS PLACE NOW OR FIND YOUR SOUL DRAGGED INTO THE PITS OF HELL ITSELF!" a booming voice said from what sounded like all around me.
"Sorry ominous voice, I don't take advice from people if I can't see their faces. Want to try that again in front of me or do I have to go looking for you?" I quipped.
"YOU DARE MOCK A BEING OF THE OTHERWORLD!" was the angry reply.
"Ghosts don't do grandiose speeches after I literally blow down their front door, they would come out and attack me. And seeing as I am a Witcher I actually would like you to show yourself so I can get paid quicker." I called out the bluff.
"THEN BEHOLD THE FACES OF YOUR DOOM!"
I then noticed my medallion shaking a lot as at least a dozen and a half beings seemed to just materialize all around me from thin air. They had the look of soldiers, except glowing, covered in bandages due to various injuries, and having broken and worn down equipment. They raised their equally ghostly looking weapons in slow motions, broken swords, spears, axes, all of it making it look as if these were the departed spirits of those who lost their lives in battle.
"WE ARE THE ARMY OF THE DAMNED! DYING ON THIS SPOT CENTURIES AGO AGAINST THE REDANIANS WHO SOUGHT TO BIND US IN CHAINS WHEN THE WEALTH OF OUR LAND WAS DISCOVERED! NOW WE ARE DOOMED TO WANDERED THIS EARTH FOR ETERNITY, WITH ONLY THE BLOOD OF THE LIVING LETTING US-"
I interrupted the little speech by throwing an Aard at a group of three to my right, sending them flying to the ground and one 'specter' landing badly on his-
"AHHH! SON OF A NILGAARDIAN WHORE!" the 'ghost' screamed as he clutched his now broken ankle.
That got everything to stop. The voice, the 'army of the damned', and my good mood entirely.
"First off, you all smell like you haven't bathed in months and ghosts don't smell like that, if at all. Second, you got your history wrong. The major battles against Redenia happened outside of Lan Exeter, not Pont Vanis. That is why it is called the 'First Treaty of Lan Exeter'. Third, while your magic show is impressive enough to scare those not aware of it, all these pretty tricks are barely more impressive than my own Signs, and they are the lowest magic you can use. So how about we end this game and you all surrender, or do I need to stab a few of you with my steel sword to get the point across? If you are actually ghosts it won't hurt any of you, right?" I asked sarcastically as I drew my blade.
The pause went on for a few more seconds, with no more noise other than two of the 'ghosts' picking themselves up slowly and the third crying over his broken ankle.
"Oh screw this, let's get the freak!" one of the ghosts yelled and charged me with his 'broken' axe. And just like that the illusion was broken, literally.
Where once there were ancient Kovirian soldiers around me melted away to show a dozen and a half very alive men wearing various articles of clothing and armor. Their demeanor and dress easily revealing them to be not specters, but bandits playing the part of them. All the while the mage that responsible for all this showed himself to be at the top of the stairs and quickly forming what looked to be a fireball in his hands.
Just as he appeared to be ready to throw it at me… he had a nice steel bolt sprouting from his leg from my newly bought crossbow I quickly pulled from my back and dropped to the ground to focus on mooks.
Which I did in the form of a Quen forming around me in a dome and the idiots literally smacking against it with all their might… for several minutes. Since I have always been one to believe is the best offense is a good defense I made sure to buy Quen level 3 from CYOA template which can defend me from a strike from a giant, sure bandits could break it eventually… just would take an hour at least.
"I don't like killing humans, so please be aware that you are all going to collapse from exhaustion well before any of you break through my shield." I informed helpfully.
Of course no one listened, and of course they continued to beat at shield for awhile more before they started slowing down and I even saw a few pause to take a breath.
"I do recommend you all surrender now before I have to start breaking limbs… well, more limbs than I already have." I said from the safety of my magical dome of protection.
At this point a few of the smarter ones realized how futile this was and with their mage down made a run for it. Which actually allowed me to test out some new toys.
From my pocket I brought out a half dozen wooden discs with the Yrden Sign carved into each. The requirement for Sign to work was only that it was carved into a solid object, didn't say I couldn't bring object to others. I pushed a little magic into each and watched them light up. Then I scattered them outside my dome all around me and watched as the bandits suddenly found themselves moving at a snail's pace. I didn't get them all, in fact two successfully ran out the front door, but enough were slowed that I dropped my shield and Aarded those few