Tapestry of Whispers Session 18
Tapestry of Whispers Session 18
Riding with Colonel Ebonshard
I don't know why, I don't know why
I return to the scenes of these crimes
Where the hedgerows slowly wind
Through the ghosts of Beverly Drive
- Death Cab for Cutie, “Ghosts of Beverly Drive”
Blackwood's boat didn't head for the boat launch, but instead went down the river. It wasn't long before it disappeared from sight. As they sat in the back of the bass boat, Victor looked back toward the marina, pounded his fist and exclaimed “Damn!”
"What is it?" Beth inquired, attending to the severely injured and slightly delirious scientist. The scientist, identified by a name patch marked 'Hawthorne' on his coveralls, was a strikingly handsome young man of mixed heritage. His attire was an eclectic mix, reminiscent of both the Ghostbusters and a Victorian-era explorer. Daniel was clueless about the purposes of the various pieces of equipment the man possessed.
Victor muttered, "I dropped the jar with that obnoxious ghost in it”
Beth discovered a pouch emblazoned with a first aid symbol attached to the scientist's belt. Inside, it held numerous packets of adhesive patches resembling nicotine patches, labeled "Stim packs." She extracted one and adhered it to the scientist's arm. Initially, there was no reaction, but after a few moments, his eyelids began to flutter, and he abruptly sat upright.
“Son of a bitch,” He spoke with a Creole accent, "It worked." Beth unwrapped another one and placed it on Daniel's arm. The pain from his wounds was so severe, it felt as though a fire engine was sounding in his head. However, once the stim pack was applied, the pain subsided to a bearable level. He doubted he'd be up for combat, but walking was now possible.
Upon reaching the boat launch, they were greeted by a bustling scene: people were busy launching boats, anglers were casting their lines, and joggers were circling the retention ponds. This lively atmosphere was in sharp contrast to the horrific setting they had departed from, lending the entire experience an almost surreal quality.
The scientist groaned as he attempted to gather his equipment. "What the hell was that?" he inquired. "I've never seen anything like it." Daniel attempted to convey his understanding as he had previously to Beth, but Hawthorne was clearly skeptical. "Sorry," he stated, "I just can't accept that supernatural nonsense. However, you've obviously encountered them before. You at least believe that I saw them. Perhaps we should work together." He offered a smile and a wink to Beth.
"How did you find them?" Beth inquired. The scientist gazed at his equipment with pride.
“I’m adjunct faculty at Louisiana Tech, over in Ruston. I was visiting my mama a couple of days ago when my equipment went nuts - a huge electromagnetic anomaly unlike anything I have seen before. I followed the reading and found… some of those things. When I saw they were vulnerable to electricity, I started working on this baby.” He patted the steampunk lightning gun. “Made it look like the Ghostbusters because… well, it’s just cool.”
"I believe we need to rest before we can return," Victor said. "Do you live nearby?" he inquired of Daniel and Beth. Despite her reservations, Beth agreed to take the two wounded men to her home. The men made no remarks about the disarray or the distinct odor of their numerous cats. As the others recovered, Victor attempted to reach Silas once more.
After six hours, Daniel regained his sense of self. He set out to recharge his weapon, affectionately known as the "pig sticker," but mid-ritual, he recognized his haste was ill-advised. The blade was deteriorating, and it demanded every ounce of his willpower and magical energy to mend it. Although he lacked the opportunity to replenish his mana, he took solace in the fact that his "pig sticker" remained operational.
Daniel made his way back to the living room, finding Beth, Victor, and Hawthorne deep in conversation. They were piecing together the events that led to Victor misplacing the spirit prison containing Ebonshard at the marina. Victor was against leaving the jar the marina, fearing the undead Confederates would find it, and Daniel concurred with his reasoning.
In the veil of night, they made their way back to the marina. The office was nothing but ashes, the flames extinguished. It seemed the zombies had been vanquished, yet now a host of Wraiths had taken up positions around the marina's perimeter and the adjoining cemetery.
Near the gate, shrouded in darkness, stood a tall, slender wraith with long, flowing gray hair, adorned in a chain-laden black coat, interrogating a ghostly Confederate soldier in chains. A mask, echoing the "sad face" of a Greek tragedy actor, concealed the wraith's visage. The wraith threatened to forge the Confederate into an ashtray in the most excruciating means possible unless he divulged whatever information he’d been asked about.
The Confederate snorted with disdain. “Ole Missus will do worse than that to all of us.. I ain’t saying shit,”
The spectral guards noticed the approaching group. "Can they see us?" one asked. Pointing at Daniel, another declared, "He possesses the shine."
"King," another voice called out. The masked wraith pivoted its head. "The Quick are peering in." It then faced the living trespassers. Towering and formidable, the figure stood with its long black robe flowing behind like wings. The tragic mask concealed his face entirely, yet Daniel could discern the eyes behind it. Dark and penetrating, they appeared to drill into him. Unable to discern any features of the intruder's face, Daniel pondered the visage that lay beneath the mask.
Daniel recognized that the wraiths, omnipresent as they were, remained invisible to his companions. He wondered what the others thought of him, merely standing and talking to himself. As the Wraith advanced towards him, he stood resolute.
“So, it’s true,” the wraith said, in a voice that echoed as if it came from the bottom of a deep well. “You can see us.”
“I’ve tried to keep the Dictum Mortuum,” said Daniel. “It worked until recently. I don’t want any trouble with you.”
"Trouble has nonetheless found you," intoned the dark figure. "The Restless here refer to me as the Delta King. Since the fall of Stygia, I serve as the semblance of law and order for our kind in these parts. I bear no ill will towards the living, yet I am bound by duty to the Lost Empire to uphold our code. In the absence of Charon, those who dare to defy it have become audacious."
"What's he—" Hawthorne began, but Beth quickly silenced him with a hush.
“There’s something here,” she whispered. “He can see them. Somehow, he always does.”
“Were you the one who tried to put them to sleep,” the wraith indicated the Confederate, who was still struggling with his chains.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Daniel said. The wraith drew himself up, and loomed over Daniel like a giant pillar of shadows.
“Don’t lie to me, boy! I felt you touch the Tempest.” His anger was almost a palpable force.
“I was just trying to help my friends,” he said. “These assholes broke the code first, or I would never have done it.”
“Of course you would have done it.” The ghost rumbled. “Your kind always does.”
“When I was young and stupid, absolutely. A lot of us fooled around with the Shroud then. I hurt myself doing it- it’s why I can’t turn it off now. That’s when I realized this isn’t a game. A lot of good people died because we messed around with things we shouldn’t have. It was twenty years ago. Since then, I've tried everything to seal it away—until the Shadow-Eaten began sneaking around again."
“I'm aware you've been riling up these... yokels," the ghost gestured towards his captive. "One of my men witnessed you visiting Whispering Oaks twice—and on your second visit, chaos ensued, leaving us to deal with the aftermath." He pivoted and paced back to his prisoner, circling him narrowly evading the reach of the fettered ghost's grasping attempts.
“Colonel Ebonshard and these creatures,” he snorted derisively, “belong to the Circle of Whispers. Renegades. They have been a source of unrest in the Monroe Necropolis long before the fall of Stygia. Simply put, their aim is to orchestrate a coup, a desire that dates back to the era when the states were at war with one another.”
"Imagine the possibilities now that they possess the Tapestry of Whispers," Daniel remarked. He noticed even the ghost seemed to recoil at the mention of that name.
"The Tapestry? Its ability to create Risen is merely a fraction of the dread powers that artifact possesses. I perished before the War between the States commenced, yet the terrors it unleashed in this realm beyond the Shroud linger in my memory. That vile device ranks among the most heinous." Daniel anticipated further details, but none were forthcoming.
He realized that his friends had dispersed during his conversation with the King, and it seemed they hadn't located the spirit jar. Victor apparently couldn't ascertain whether it had been opened. "The river," he said. "I dropped it in the river.”
"We won't retrieve anything from there without SCUBA gear," Hawthorne stated. "Perhaps I could get some if your friend has finished talking to himself." Beth hushed him again.
When the group failed to find the spirit jar, they conveyed their defeat to Daniel. Daniel bowed to the King and offered a heartfelt apology for interrupting their campaign against the Circle of Whispers. The King, in his grace, accepted the apology. Yet, he sternly cautioned Daniel against returning to the marina. Daniel consented to depart, and the King found this resolution satisfactory. The group then departed from the Marina, retrieving Victor's rental car enroute.
As they drove up Grand Avenue, they went beneath the towering I-20 overpass. Abruptly, a groan of strained metal echoed as a massive semi-truck rumbled overhead. The driver of the semi accelerated to cross, just as a massive crack appeared in the bridge. Other motorists, noticing the fissure, hit their brakes hard, resulting in a colossal pileup. The extra strain caused the bridge to collapse, hurling vehicles and fragments of corroded steel and asphalt down towards them.
Beth narrowly avoided the dangers, and Victor’s car emerged unscathed from the collapsing bridge. But without warning, the steering wheel began to wrestle against her grip, veering towards the lane of oncoming traffic as the car accelerated independently. Daniel's ears were filled with the chilling cackle of Ebonshard, echoing around them, as the specter merged with the machine.
Daniel alerted his companions that Ebonshard had escaped and was filled with rage. He engaged the pig sticker and thrust it towards what he believed was Ebonshard's core, only managing to crack the windshield. Ebonshard's laughter grew wilder as Beth regained control of the wheel, but the cracks in the windshield expanded and eventually burst, showering everyone in fragments of razor-sharp glass.
A large shard of glass rose from the pile and flew towards Victor. In the nick of time, Hawthorne lunged forward to intercept it. The glass exploded upon impact with his abdomen, the single perilous object becoming many. With Ebonshard now disentangled from the car, his position was clearer, yet Daniel's aim still faltered.
Victor retrieved something from his pocket and hurled it towards Ebonshard, reciting a loud Latin incantation. The car's upholstery was suddenly covered in black salt, causing Ebonshard to shriek as though scorched. Hawthorne attempted to use a device from his belt pouch, but it was too damaged by the shards of glass to function. In fury, Ebonshard seized Hawthorne by the neck, and Hawthorne clearly experienced the sensation of phantom fingers constricting his windpipe. Daniel slashed at Ebonshard's arm with the pig sticker, eliciting a burst of glittering ectoplasm, and the specter was repelled by Victor's spell.
A rift in the Shadowlands emerged near Ebonshard, revealing a tumultuous expanse of stormy waters. "This isn't over," the ghost declared to Daniel before stepping into the rift and disappearing.
Beth screamed, "Honey, he’s really bleeding!" Daniel spun around to see that Hawthorne's coveralls were soaked with blood. Blood was gushing from the wound as if from a faucet, and several large pieces of glass protruded from Hawthorne's abdomen.
"Get to the hospital; I'll try to keep him stable." Daniel doubted that Hawthorne's stim packs would suffice. He maintained pressure on the wound as his first aid training had instructed, but Hawthorne's breathing was labored, and he had become unconscious. Beth revved the engine. Thankfully, the emergency room was close by, yet Hawthorne had bled profusely, and neither Daniel nor Victor were EMTs.
They roared into the emergency room parking lot and Beth ran inside, shouting for medical attention. The emergency room attendants came out, and Daniel and Victor attempted to help them get Hawthorne onto the gurney they brought with them. . Once the emergency room doctors were working on him, the others were also checked out for injury and Victor called the rental car company to tell them that he’d been in an accident.
After getting their story straight for the police, they were released, but Hawthorne remained unconscious and in critical condition. Daniel was not sure how to get in touch with the man’s family and hoped that the emergency room staff was having better luck finding them than he did. The hospital staff told him there was nothing further he could do to assist them.
After they got home, Daniel called his boss, telling him that he had been in a car accident and needed a few days off. He needed them more for regrouping against the supernatural than doing his work, but he did not want to tell his employer that. Now he had a decision to make - go back to hiding or find a way to fight back against the malign spirits of Whispering Oaks. The more he thought about it, the more he felt he should be done hiding.
Finally, he worked up the courage to tell Beth what he was considering. She smiled, a look he had not seen for a while. “Finally,” she said. “About time you stop blaming yourself for Justin and Darren. They knew what they were doing.”
“But we don’t have them anymore,” he said.
“I still have you. Now put that big brain of yours to work and find us a way to make these undead bastards pay.” She shoved a volume of Civil War history at him. After a moment he took it and began to read.
Daniel's initial studies showed that Monroe was an important Confederate supply and transportation hub, but it saw few actual battles before it was taken by Union forces in 1863. Both sides considered Monroe to be important because of its considerable resources. Whispering Oaks was part of all that, of course, but the Benton family seemed to have been no more involved in the war than any of their neighbors were.
The Benton family was a prominent family in Louisiana and American history. However, very little had been written about the branch of the family that built Whispering Oaks. Even before Jeremy's death and Isolde's supposed madness, the plantation had been quite insular. The young couple had not been accepted by Monroe's high society because of rumors that Isolde was a witch, and the ostracism extended to Jeremy's mother as well.
After the slave revolt, the mansion was completely abandoned. That's when the rumors started that it was haunted. A few people had expressed interest in renovating or tearing it down, but those plans always seemed to go nowhere because most of the local workers are afraid to go there. Daniel didn’t blame them after what had happened the times he’d been there.
In all of this, Daniel still could not find much about what motivated the spirits that now walked the decaying halls or any mention whatsoever of the Tapestry of Whispers. Nor did he find any solid leads about what effect it may have had on the war. All he found was a note by General Blanchard, the Confederate commander, that his men found the mansion "blasphemous" and recommended no further explorations. The union forces who took over the area never mentioned it at all.
Daniel was frustrated and took a break from his reading. As he stood up and stretched, the doorbell rang. He looked out to see the familiar figure of a Monroe police officer. "Are you Daniel Hauser?" the officer asked.
“Yes, officer” said Daniel nervously. “How can I help you?”
“We understand you were recently seen with this man,” the officer handed him a mug shot picture of Reginald Darius. “Do you know where he is now?”
“We helped him and his friends out during the riot - their house got invaded. We’re not really that close. I don’t know where he is now.”
"I think you'll want to cooperate if you know anything," the cop said, looking at Beth. "He's wanted for assault on a lady named Evelyn LaFaye, who I also understand is an acquaintance of yours."
“I met her,” said Daniel. “But I didn’t know that they ever met each other.”
Before leaving, the cop handed Daniel his business card and said, "If he tries to contact you, it'd be best if you let us know." Daniel took the card and thanked the cop.
As soon as the police officer left, Daniel called Chance. Chance was taken aback by Daniel's story. He couldn't believe it. He had never heard of Reginald, and he didn't think Evelyn had ever seen him at any time when she was with Chance. More disturbingly, Chance still didn't know where Evelyn was.
After exhausting all avenues for locating additional information about the mansion, Daniel decided to switch gears and consult his occult books for guidance in crafting healing potions. But to his dismay, the books were rudimentary and didn't contain recipes for potions of the potency they would need. Daniel wondered, not for the first time, if fighting was really a good idea. But he was committed, and for good or ill it was time to stir the pot.
