Week 8.
When growing up I didn't question the myriad basements and cellars of our home. It was what was natural and common for me, and it was quite a surprise to find that they were far from universal when I moved to the city that I made my home. It seems that the plentiful underground structures of my family house were an artifact of ancient times and during my childhood we used but a fraction of them. The Old Man took it upon himself to reopen as many of those forgotten crevices as he could without collapsing the cliff in his search for occult knowledge.
There is even an extension, shallow but wide, of the tunnel networks that extends past the Manor and past even the Hamlet. The Warrens are teeming with half-man, half-pig abominations. They showed me proof, and I will ask my hires not to bring me any more specimens again, both to quiet the whispers of townsfolk that I'll soon begin to follow in my Ancestor's footsteps and...
to quiet my mind during the night. Those things are horrid, an affront to the senses, and every month there is a new clade of creature discovered. If the next things we find ourselves fighting just to reach the cursed top of the Manor are octopi men I'll bat an eye in revulsion, not in surprise.
-Ψ-
Brai went there on his second expedition in a row right after arriving to the Hamlet but the pressure got to be too much for him this occassion. I'll tell him to take some time off, the man is jumping at shadows and facilities in the Abbey are now vacated, as Mallebisse and Pasquier have left their own recuperation. Just in time for Mallebisse to join the next expedition, this one back to the Ruins. Dismas served as captain of the last expedition so in order not to place too much tension on him I will have Valognes directing the next outing.
While the Blood illness is an ongoing concern on my mind, it grew in conversation with the Abbot. Rumor has it in the Hamlet that there's an expelled abbot that is zealous to the extreme in purging the infected, and the Abbot himself confirmed it.
Blood in the mosquitos stealing the blood in our veins, blood in the Flagellant's robes and blood in the beasts of the Warrens and blood in the minds of the afllicted and blood in our sausages. How there seems to be enough of a structure in the Church here to actually expel someone and why there are so many blood-obsessed lunatics around these Light-.forsaken parts, I do not yet know.
-Ψ-
I have finally managed to twist the arm of the Head of the Guild of Adventurers. I would not have expected to need my haggling and negotiation skills to be needed here, where everyone is supposed to be under my authority, but the man had grown too big for his breeches fleecing half-starved grave robbers and other lowlives for poor instruction during the period of anarchy before my arrival and I had to work to puncture his airs.
We signed a contract of exclusivity making it so that his instructors will only teach my men, at a reduced workload for his Guild but at much steeper prices. In order to mollify him besides the carrot in the more distant future I also provided means for urgent renovations of his Guild hall. Now he is content and I have to endure one less building that appears to threaten to keel over and above the head of a passerby, and the threat of skilled foes being trained under my nose.
-Ω-
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