Revelation
Twenty Ninth Day of Olweje-eza (Olweje Ascending) 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)
"No," you do not speak loudly, nor do yous peak from wrath yet your words carry across the whole of the ship, just the same, or mayhap it is simply your bearing that carries your denial of killing an ill woman over some evil lurking among the waves. For all you know it could be hunting her.
A ward is like a door, you reason.
It can keep things out as well as in, perhaps it had been meant to protect her from something...
"Begging your lordship's pardon but..." the sailor who had been grabbed starts.
"You do not have my pardon, nor my ear come to that," you reply sharply. "Keep the ship and I shall see to the thing that hunts us and not by casting into the sea the weak and the ill like some heathen offering. If you wish to make yourselves useful pray for protection and prey for the woman to wake swiftly that we may learn what hunts us." So saying you push aside a pang of guilt. It has been a long while since you have prayed, if one does not count those words cast heavenward in the heat of the moment. The hows and whys of it are not something you wish to look too closely upon.
You half expect the sack to turn aside the blade of your knife, but it parts like any cloth under the knife, giving no sign of the magic Inge insists is there. As the woman rolls out of it you notice that she is richly dressed though in a manner unlike the Anwa just as her words had been. The cloth has the look of silk which you had only seen on the vestments of lords glimpsed from afar and in the markets of Alexandria, dear beyond gold. Upon this silk one can find both patterns of floral geometry cunningly wrought and the signs of hard wear, perhaps even of violence, from some of the tears, though that is hard to credit. She seems weak still and thinner than she aught to be but otherwise unharmed...
"Agberin!" the word is torn from Inge's lips with a sharp breath and between one moment and the next a pale witchlight fills the chamber. "Vetala... Stay back, get away from it now it's a
life-drinker!"
All you can do is draw back in shock, but Zaia at least seems to have understood one of the words. "Agberin, they dwell in what would be Tunis in our world, Carthage of old. I do not know what a vetala is but I assure you she is no accursed corpse come to spread misery upon the living and steal their breath away."
"They can possess the living and the dead to work their will," Inge says, already you can feel the gathering chill of her magic, but then those strange jade eyes open again not feverish but clear and she calls out in fear: "I am not as you have called me, but such a... horror hunts me."
There is a ring of truth to the words, something more than your hope not to have met another fair seeming monster, but there had been a hesitation also before the word 'horror' as though she had meant to use another. Without a doubt it is not kind to speak harshly to one so newly awoken from harsh sickness, yet for the sake of all aboard this ship you must know all the the truth. "What is this thing to you?"
For a long moment the woman is silent, and then so softly you might almost have missed it among the crashing of the waves and the sound o the rain she whispers two words: "My father."
What questions do you have for your guest?
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OOC: I do not usually do this, but you guys need to see these rolls in order to understand just how bullshit they were, and links alone just won't do it.
Just t be clear Inge needed a 25 to put the clothes together with the form of the attack and guess Vetala and you needed to win that intimidation contest by 10 to just have her admit that she is a vampire's daughter from the start. Who has been sacrificing goats to the dice gods?