Vass turned to his new ‘unit’. “All right,” he said, “let’s move out.”
Orecius staggered to his feet. “Your Highness,” he said, “I’ve been riding for two days straight. As much as I’m anxious to find out what happened, I’m afraid I simply cannot travel right now.”
Vass looked at Orecius carefully, trying to understand the old man’s physical condition. He certainly was rather fit for his age, but he did look exhausted.
“Very well,” Vass relented. “A six hour rest should be enough. Come, I’ll escort you all to my personal residence. We could all use a meal, and I also have to change out of this relic of an armor.”
Brianna helped Orecius to his feet and held him all the way to the Draracle quarters.
On the way there they noticed that the fortress-town was in a state of barely contained chaos, though by all accounts control was quickly being restored. In the ever-twilight of the dawn sky above the rain of fire continued but it had lessened in intensity and Orecius claimed that it would completely cease within the hour—at least for now.
Reaching Vass’s estate, the paladin realized that with the notable exception of his butler, all servants and guards had fled the area when the Blood Moon commenced. Andrion Von Montarius sneered at their cowardice prompting Vass to issue an order to his butler that upon the staff’s return, all servants would be lashed five times while the guards would be lashed twenty for abandoning their posts noting that he was “feeling merciful.”
The butler led the group in the dining room where he began taking orders for food and drinks. Rasvahn, everybody realized, behaved strangely. For starters he was obsessed with absently talking to himself noting the changed tapestries and furniture. When the butler asked him what he would care to have, Rasvahn gave him a surprising reply:
“I’ll have a glass of that old Erthuos wine if you still have that barrel behind the wine wrack in the cellar.”
“Y-yes, sir,” the butler said and approached Vass.
“Your Highness,” the butler said. “There really is an old barrel there but how could he know that?”
Vass was skeptical at this. “You think he may have been here before?”
“I’ll think I’ll check the house for missing items, milord,” the butler replied and left for the kitchen.
“Rasvahn,” Vass called out.
“Yes?”
“I believe we should have a private conversation you and I.”
“As you wish,” Gul said nodding.
“Please,” Vass said extending a hand. “Let’s take this to the guest room. After you.”
Rasvahn nodded and walked first. The way to the guestroom was no straight line, and yet Rasvahn knew his way exactly, just as Vass was suspecting.
When they reached the room, Vass shut the door behind him and without beating around the bush he asked bluntly.
“Are you a thief, Rasvahn Gul?”
“No,” the man with the pale face replied.
“You seem to know your way around here,” Vass stated in a matter-of-factly tone.
“I do,” Ras continued to be evasive, but calm nevertheless.
“Care to explain how that is?”
“I used to live here.”
Vass raised his eyebrow. “You used to be a servant for the Draracles before my arrival?”
“No, I used to be a servant of this establishment’s previous owner.”
“The previous owners were House Sadar.” Vass said.
“Precisely. And specifically Garius Sadar—although I’m not sure if he was the last owner, he was my master.”
“Have you any idea how many years ago that was?” Vass asked in disbelief.
“I’m beginning to.”
Vass was carefully studying Rasvahn, and as far as he could tell, the man was no liar—insane, perhaps, but not a liar. “It’s not possible to still be alive after all those years,” Vass said, anxious regarding the statement that would inevitably follow.
“I don’t think I am,” Rasvahn said.
Vass’ hand went to the grip of his sword but he did not draw it. “I should have seen it,” he said. “The dry pale skin, the sunken eyes, that eerie glazed look; you’re an undead!”
“I would think that perfectly describes my physiology at the moment.”
“You only have a few seconds more of this undying existence, tell me why I should give you more.”
“Obviously I’m not some ravening monstrosity and I assure you I have no desire to consume the living nor do I have any hatred towards them, save perhaps the one I’m after.”
“Garius Sadar’s murderer,” Vass commented.
“And Garius’ son, and my wive’s, my son’s, and ultimately—though not directly—my murderer. You see, as far as I’m concerned, last night I was executed for a crime I never committed. The next thing I know was waking up here mere hours ago.”
Slowly, realization dawned on Vass’ mind. He knew of undead that were not necessarily creatures of darkness. He had heard of a special breed of undead creatures, typically created by the gods—mostly Hredd and Woden—to either set right a wrong, or perform a divine service. Those were the…
“…Revenant!” Vass declared. “You’re a revenant!”
Rasvahn snapped his fingers in recognition. “Right, I should have figured it out myself. I told you, this all very new to me.”
“So, you’re out for revenge.”
“One might even call it justice,” Rasvahn confirmed. “And you are part of it. Well, probably not you personally, but your family.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My master’s dying word was a name; ‘Draracle’,” the revenant explained. “And then, here I wake up years later to find my master’s demesne in the ownership of your family. Now what am I to think of that?”
“You think the Draracles are responsible?” the paladin asked, tightening his sword’s grip.
“As much as I’d love to jump to that conclusion out of expediency, the truth is I cannot be sure. For all I know Garius might have meant that the Draracles were the only ones who can help me. Either way, if I am to get to the bottom of this, it wouldn’t hurt having your help. But if you wish to stop me, then…”
“Fair enough,” Vass said and left his sword’s grip. “I’ll help you. If my House is responsible, then I need to know too. But I have one request.”
“Name it.”
“You may not be the murderer you were convicted to be, but you are obviously, like me, a killer.”
“Never said otherwise,” the revenant admitted nodding his head.
“Then remember one thing while we investigate this; You are now my killer—do you understand me?”
“Perfectly. As long as you understand that I will have my revenge.”
“And one more thing,” the paladin added. “Keep your nature hidden otherwise it’ll be both our heads claimed by the judges.”
Rasvahn agreed and the two of them went back to the dining room with the others.
Official Chronicles state that Vass Jaquel Draracle discovered Rasvahn Gul’s true nature months later, and only after Rasvahn had proven his worth. They couldn’t bridge the paladin’s ethos with Vass’ decision to trust an undead based on nothing but a gut instinct.
Back in the dining room few words were being exchanged as everyone ate their meal. Vass had taken out his ceremonial armor and only stood when Brianna Galena was about to leave. The knight escorted her out.
“You’ll have your hands full with the lot of them,” she told him. “But they seem pretty capable.”
“Let’s hope so. Are you going to be alright?”
“You know I can take care of myself, Vass,” she replied as they walked.
“Right. Just make sure Tristan doesn’t get himself killed.”
“Why, Vass, I didn’t know you cared,” she commented smiling.
“I’m just concerned about commoners accusing me of hexing him if he dies.”
“Ha! You should be more concerned about commoners accusing you of the Blood Moon with your sword’s timing and all.”
“Yes, there’s that too,” he said in a serious tone.
“Anyway, you just make sure you come back in one piece,” she said and approached him. “I had other plans for us tonight, but alas, the world needs saving.”
“I’m sure we can catch up after this is all taken care of,” he replied stroking her hair.
“Good. Don’t go die on us now,” Brianna Galena said and left.
“It wouldn’t be too much to ask you to have Tristan keep his hands to himself now, would it?” he asked as she was walking away.
Brianna laughed. “I’ll think about it,” she replied without turning back.
After the meal, the team dozed off for a few hours. In the next Bell, they got up and left for the crater…
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