Darkshire

5/3 late afternoon.

Ah Darkshire. A nice little somber town in the middle of nowhere, in a region overrun by mostly bad things. The locals were tough, stubborn, and serious. They were focused on survival. Thriving is basically not in the cards.

The sun was still out when we arrived, thankfully. I wanted to waste as little time as possible; I needed ghost hair from Madame Eva, I needed to get Watcher Ladimore to buy into my vague as hell plan to lay Morgan Ladimore's soul to rest, and I needed to make sure that I found someone to tag with this necklace. Technically I could grab anyone and get some benefit, but the best case scenario would be someone powerful or useful. Current backup plan was the innkeeper.

Regardless, I needed to get to work. I sent Tessa to go rent us a room at the inn, and Drusilla to ask after Madame Eva. I did a bit of shopping to maintain my cover. I bought a handful of mushrooms from a nice young man, and asked the bartender about zombie juice. Apparently they didn't get too many asking after the stuff, which was amazing given how it didn't sound at all horrible and disgusting. I gave him a silver piece and asked him to save a bottle next time he made some.

The last thing I did was ask if Watcher Ladimore was in town. As it turns out she wasn't; apparently she was watching an outpost they kept on the border with Elwynn today and would get back at around noon tomorrow. Onto the back burner with her, then.

Drusilla met up with me in the square, near the inn. "I found her. She lives in a nice little house down the street. Do you want to visit her tonight?" I sure as hell did. After the last week, spending a day this unproductively gave me hives. To avoid questions, I had Drusilla head back to the inn.

••••••••••

I knocked on the door, "Eva! Madame Eva, are you in?" I spoke with as soft a voice as I could while still being audible. It came out as something like a weird stage whisper, but communication talent told me that hushed tones were the norm in Darkshire. The door cracked open and I saw a very old woman with heavy makeup, who cracked a smile. "Ah, Abercrombie. Here for another collection of esoteric goods? Come in, come in. I have enough tea to spare for an old friend."

"Just the one, this time. Ghost hair thread." Thank god he did his own shopping sometimes. Eva was ancient and was apparently his supplier for strange goods, which meant she probably knew Abercrombie better than most, so I intended to be careful here. Her stringy grey hair was held back with a cloth, and her face was covered in craggy wrinkles. To top it off, she was absolutely dripping with jewelry and was in a particularly fine black dress.

"I'm afraid that ghost hair may be a problem."

"What? I thought you had a supplier." I remembered the quest well enough to know where this was going, but I was playing a part.

"I haven't been able to go in quite some time. My visions have been warning me of great danger." Oh yeah. I forgot she was pretty uniquely psychic with no explanation ever given.

"Any chance you could finally tell me where you get it, then? A distant relative came to live with me just recently. They are quite comfortable with danger. They could clear out whatever the problem is, I'm sure."

"Oh! Is that what cleaned your aura so much? I didn't want to say anything, but I haven't seen your aura so radiant since…"

I did my best to make the words sound thick with emotion. "Since I lost her. Yes. I still won't leave her alone out there, but it's been nice to have company." She bought it, I could tell. First hurdle passed. It occurred to me that being able to read people's auras and vaguely detect danger seemed like a useful ability, and apparently Eva knew how to get her hands on strange materials. Finally, she was old as hell, which meant a bigger dragon than Drusilla. Maybe even big enough to carry someone. "But really, I'm sure there's nothing that could have cropped up that will be a real danger to Erich and his friends. Once they clear it out, or let you know what it is, you'll be able to go back to normal in no time."

She considered it long and hard. "Very well. But you must promise me you won't go harvesting without giving me a cut. Times are already hard enough without you stealing food out of the children's mouths."

"You still seem alright to me."

"These are my savings, as you very well know." She sniffed reproachfully, "there is a peaceful spirit I found. You remember Mary? From down by the old cemetery?"

I remembered Blind Mary, but had no idea where the old cemetery was; it wasn't important enough to be on my map. That's why I was doing this whole song and dance instead of walking up to her with a comb. "Of course I do."

"Well, she was always so vain, apparently when the night of the Darkening happened it affected her. Maybe because she was so close to the tower. Well, needless to say her death was traumatic, but it somehow didn't twist her mind too negatively. She's still the same as she always was; vain, but sweet enough. If I bring her a comb she can use, she will brush her hair with it. The hair will be caught in the comb, and solidify. Her hair was always so long, I don't need much to make a length of thread. It is a good thing demand is so small; it takes months to create a proper spool. What do you need it for, dear?"

"Enough to weave through a chain on a necklace. At least enough for someone to wear around the neck."

"Trying to let a spirit wear jewelry? That has to have a story behind it. Do you have the necklace here? I can take a look and make an estimate."

It seemed reasonable enough, so I handed her the elaborate gold and ruby necklace the company had provided me with that morning.

"Oh Abercrombie, where did you get something like this? It's beautiful." I heard a familiar chant and suddenly I was pretty sure I had made a mistake. "As I thought. Enchanted, and strongly. It… oh dear." Her brow furrowed. She hid it reasonably well, but she was suddenly much more tense. She glanced at my pendant, then back at the necklace. "Well. I'm not sure if this will work, actually. These links in the chain, they would pinch the hair. Perhaps even cut it. Maybe you should leave it with me, I'll see what I can do." She was terrified, but maintained an illusion of calm. A voice in the back of my head pointed out dozens of bits of evidence that she saw this amulet as sufficiently unethical and dangerous in its properties that she would leave her house to report on it within minutes of me leaving.

Shit. As I started standing, she was already scrambling out of her chair, throwing her teapot at me. The scalding liquid hurt, but I could power through it. She seemed to be able to predict my movements, but under Abercrombie's baggy robe I had the body of an Olympic runner. Not as flashy as an Olympic strongman, but more than enough to easily overpower an old woman.

She started to inhale for a scream, and I shoved a hand into her mouth while chanting "shield" under my breath, quickly muffling her. She tried to bite down, but the shield made sure my fingers were untouched; it was meant to deflect swords, an old woman's jaw would take quite a while to work through it. It was difficult to get the necklace around her neck one handed, but once I did, I was able to put in a new disobedience: Examining the necklace, paired with momentary amnesia. I pulled out the water of Lethe, and then realized how much I'd probably spill trying to get the thrashing granny to drink. With an internal shrug, I made the snap decision to pull out the memory charm and jab it into her arm, focused on erasing the memory of examining the necklace currently around her neck. She shuddered for a bit while I took my hand out of her mouth, then stood up in a trance. I was nervous. I didn't know exactly what I'd just done, but I figured it was hopefully better than murdering grandma.