Exorcism: An Addled Mind

[Sybil Malach]

06th of Saun, 719

Margaret glanced towards Sybil, from across the table. Sybil returned the glance, blankly blinking at her.

"He said he wanted something for the sleep. Innit what he wanted?" She sighed out, pinching the bridge of her nose. She gestured out towards the man, now passed out, slumped against the table, "... And yes. That's the mixture with the salt. And as you can plainly see... It's done jack shit. Looks like you need pure salt for this one, or your supplier undercut you something fierce." She leaned back into her chair, picking a cup up by the stem, and taking a long drink of ale.

"By the Twins, it's rough going to find a decent ale 'round these parts. Reckon they got a keg or two?" She suggests, eyes glancing towards Sybil once again.


This was one of Karlsson's contracts. A man was suffering from memory loss over long stretches of time. Would wake up in the middle of the woods naked, would assault absolutely random people in town. Rough part was, he was not only a drunkard, but one of the only physicians that bothered to come this far out of Viden. The townsfolk took their sweet time scraping together enough for a reward to get someone to look into this man, or bother talking some sense into him.

So here they were.

Margaret had just got done pouring the man out a drink, after discussing the nature of our visit. As usual, he refused to comment, but didn't turn down the offer. She brought her own ale, this time. One of the better perks of knowing a band of criminals that handle one's contracts. It was never a question of how something would get done, it was always a question of when. This contract in particular was one that had the three pushing off this venture out of Viden for some time.

And of course, since he declined, Margaret had to intervene.

As it turns out, some roots in Viden interact with alcohol in a very specific way. Makes the senses numb, and almost impossible to sleep. Sadly, this would mean, however, that he would be out of commission and unable to answer any questions.


"Well. The townsfolk said that they'd keep him quiet, by the time that the Rangers come about." Sybil rolled their shoulders, and rises to a stand, eyes slowly glancing over the room. It was the dining room of a decently sized cottage. The man was obviously not quite living in want, but it wasn't the lap of luxury either. In truth, the contract even pointed out that he was kicked out of the Academy. "Mind reading out the contract, for me? Might be something on there that'll help us... Discern, what in Idalos's going on here."

"Started a few months ago. Apparently the Carpenter's wife and son died during childbirth. Ever since, the man's been an absolute lunatic." She clears her throat, as she reads on. Her eyes squinting. Margaret would be the last to admit it, but it was coming time that she might start needing spectacles. Her wit was what got her through life, not exactly her ability to see fine print, "Townsfolk keep saying it's a curse for being drunk during the operation. Others say that it's because he had the Carpenter's wife over for too many 'visit's prior."

Slowly glancing over the decorations strewn about, there was a level of pride in his accomplishments. Sybil could see that most of the paperwork strewn about was the letters of those he'd helped. Flipping through a stack on a table to the side, Sybil's eyes slowly read through most of them. They were all dated by his hand, in red ink.

Margaret flipped through a page, crossing her legs over her lap, and taking a deep drink of her cup of ale, "Mainly complaints of him screaming at night, running around naked, and finding him in barns, shivering, muttering things that's at best described as 'tongues'." Margaret rambles on, not really finding this any more interesting than the cup that she drank from. "Apparently, he's got a few skeletons in his closet. Bad deals with the black market for booze."

"Explains why they don't want to involve the Rangers. Or anyone from Viden, rather." Sybil admits, eyes trawling over the commendations. It seems at one point, he was very well liked by the town. Flipping through each page, seemed that he did a few jobs pro bono. Odd, considering the fact that he would be doing work from all the way out here. Not many opportunities to make money. "At least he's got a few people that care. Otherwise, he might've just been left out to die."

Sybil raises a brow in Margaret's direction, "Mind helping out a bit? Quite a lot of house to look through."

"I'm helping. Can see him just fine from here." Margaret retorts, snorting, "Besides, if he wakes, you'll want him back under."

Letting out a breath, they admitted defeat under their breath. Shaking their head, their eyes turn to the doorway. There had to be something other than this mess. Why did he have all this paper here, anyway? It'd take them days to just get through it all, and it seemed to all follow a similar pattern of making sure he was at least somewhat appreciated. They shook their head as they crossed the threshold, "Just make a salt circle around yourself. And if I scream, and you don't come? I'll haunt you."

A laugh could be heard as they left the room.

Sybil had a few choices, here in the main room. There was outside, which was likely fruitless. Glancing around, there was an open door, leading to the basement. Another two closed doors. One probably a study, or treatment room, the other likely being his bedroom.

At this point... They just didn't know where to start.

[Sybil Malach]

06th of Saun, 719

The basement seemed too risky, or too obvious. Something in Sybil's core screamed at them not to go down there. At least not yet. Their eyes glancing down towards the open cellar, it was pitch black. A breath escaped their lips. Were they putting off the inevitable, or making a genuine decision?

Regardless, their choice had been made. Walking towards one of the doors, they reach out to the knob, giving it a twist. Their mind had hoped that they weren't about to walk into a blood bath, or something absolutely horrifying, but the smell of iron around this door... Left little to the imagination.


Treatment Room

Pushing the door open, Sybil's eyes glanced from side to side.

This was a wide, rectangular room. The wood paneling beneath Sybil's feet creaked audibly. There were two beds with leather straps fastened to where the limbs should go. Likely to keep someone still during amputations. Not entirely unheard of. Their eyes glanced around as they took a bit more of a sure step in. There was no blood that had sank into the floors. That much was a good sign at least. It means on a very basic level, that there was no actively horrible operations taking place here.

There were chairs lining the far walls, as well as the opposing walls. A linen curtain dividing the two, this didn't particularly seem like anything that they had expected. This was a brazenly open space. The beds were sturdy, allowing for visitors. It was too clean to actually say that this place belonged to some sort of madman. If they had known better, this would be more at home with the Academy's Clinic. If the Clinic itself was more primitive, and accessible to the likes of those that dwell in the outskirts.

A table was kept against the wall. And glancing over the tinctures... It seemed to be very common preparatory medications. Those were the ones that Sybil noticed, at least. With a gloved hand, they simply begin to sift through what's even here. They didn't understand a majority of these bottles, however. But popping the top, and taking a whiff, nothing seemed particularly... Strange. Thumbing the cork of the bottles back in place, they simply step back. There was no paperwork in this room. Most of the things that were here, however, were medical supplies and things used specifically for cleaning surgical implements.

As far as Sybil could see, this room was a bust. Stepping back, they simply began to move towards the door, eyes still scanning at the dimly lit room. Was this man as insane as the town said he was? The thought lingered in their mind, as they entered the living room one more. Their attention going to the other door.


Bedroom

The room was dark. The floor was creaky, in a way that made Sybil's skin crawl. Though they could not attest to how 'natural' the floor's noise was, something about it made their skin crawl. Reaching behind the door, and into the room from which they came, they pull a lit candle in with them.

It was a small room that seemed more at home in a village than something belonging to perhaps one of the more affluent in this area. Letting out a breath, their mind slowly churns. No windows. That was the first thing their mind shifted towards, as they moved their candle over to the wall. Not even boarded up, there was just none constructed here. Which is strange, he had some in the main room. Though perhaps, that was simply because he had a hearth in there.

Moving further in, Sybil simply begins to take stock of what's in here.

A bed with a chest at the foot of it. Just by testing the thing's handle, it seems to be locked.

A bookshelf. A cursory glance through the available book spines seem to be nothing of overall merit. Though, the collection itself would fetch a fine bit of coin on any sort of market. Bloodletting, midwifery, suturing techniques... None of them, strangely enough, having anything to do with the issue at hand. Sybil drags their finger against the wooden alcove, eyes glancing down. Glancing at their fingertip, their eyes simply blink. There's no dust. These books are clearly in use. Does this man have an apprentice?

Strange. Sybil was almost entirely assured that this man was out of sorts. Yet his home was clean. Dark, perhaps just a tad beneath what would be serviceable for his profession, but... Nothing that screamed of madness, or some other sort that implied possession. Sybil's eyes slowly glanced towards the paintings that hanged from the walls.

All of them contained him. It was... Impossible to tell, what their connections to him was, but as their eyes slowly glanced across it, they all had pins belonging to the Academy. Perhaps, something made in memorandum for a discovery? Their mind paused, as they continued to look. Crouching down onto their knees, they simply dipped their head beneath the bed, seemingly trying to find anything that could at least hint them onto the right path.

It was hard to see, with the meager light offered by the candle. Getting it too close would risk burning. Pulling the sheets up with one arm, and pushing the candle beneath...

... Darkness. The light wasn't great enough. There were shadows of things beneath here, vague black shapes, but... Nothing that really told them what they needed to know.

Placing the candle, still in its holder, upon the floor, they reached beneath the bed, stretching as far as their arm would allow. Their hand, at first, grasped at air.

Their eyes squeezing shut, Sybil stretches out their arm, trying their best to try and grasp at something. Their fingertips touch wood. Eyes fluttering, they push forward, taking a breath, straining at the joint, moving the shape closer, and closer... Until it's pulled out from under the bed itself.

Shifting the candle with one hand over to it, their eyes glance across a single box. Unmarked, with the lid misplaced somewhere.

A ledger. Something preserved in a jar of cloudy liquid. ... And a knife.

[Sybil Malach]

06th of Saun, 719

Sybil took the book to the living room.

Placing their hand upon the book in a more clear light, they trace their eyes over it. It was an untitled book, something that would be far more common in personal ledgers from scribes rather than a piece of work that existed to give already defined information.

Placing the ledger upon a table, they lean their spine forward. The distant rustling of Margaret could be heard; seems like she was being serious about looking for a keg of alcohol. Rolling their shoulders, Sybil couldn't find the care to bother even trying to tell her to stop.

So instead, they began to flip through the book. Eyes furrowed, they let out a slow breath.

It was a mess of information. Partially serving as a financial document, and partially serving as a personal diary, it wasn't organized in any sort of positive way. Ale stains smudged the ink on some pages, and if Sybil cared enough, they would've noticed that the numbers have been incorrectly registered due to that. But alas, they didn't. There was, however, a glaring issue. Most of the ink that was used was in the color of deep cardinal red. Usually, that meant that he was running a net loss more than actually bringing in anything worth the time.

And so, looking through the pages... It was very clear what was happening.

There were names that Sybil didn't recognize. They had to either be from Hok, or Viden itself, but the townsmen made no reference to them. Focusing their gaze across it, however, they would begin to see just how large the deficit of nells were, at the end of the day. The man essentially had to pay back his entire cottage's worth to several different parties.

They pinched the bridge of their nose.

Sybil cleared their throat, and just said, "Margaret, stick with the man, please." They shake their head, pulling the ledger from the table and sliding it within their cloak, "I'll be back shortly. I need to submit something to the boss. Lie through your teeth about his condition, please."

This wasn't a ghost.

This was a man that had lost something, something that Sybil lacked the skills to investigate into. Went into deep debt from the sorrow. And then, as though to put a cherry on top of the chorus of suffering, decided to just get addicted to alcohol. Not a very... Clean prospect.

But one that the town would need to hear, to get their answer.

[Werewere]

Review Is In!

Sybil

Knowledge:
Psychology: Addiction can cause further mental issues
Psychology: Diagnosis: Alcohol addiction
Psychology: Ale can alter the psyche temporarily
Psychology: People usually don't expect to be poisoned in their own house
Deception: Staying quiet to not break a lie
Linguistics: Cursive: Reading smudged cursive

Loot: +1 WP
Injuries: N/A
Renown: 5 Completing a contract job

Points: 10 May not be used for Magic

Down with alcohol! It is the devils drink and causes way to many issues for the people around Viden now. It was nice to see the black market notes on the drink itself. The door did give a good feeling of suspense. I wonder what happened in the surgical room? Maybe the lack of windows was to avoid the window tax, did Sybil think of that? Wooop the ending was at least not a ghost or a dead body, just a very sad man. I liked the minor twist there.

Any injures are based on a 1d100 roll using applicable skills