1874-08-01: Letter to Ramius
Letter to Ramius
Summary: Following the events of Black Cat Studies, Myrana writes a letter to Ramius telling him about her research and the monster that came to Fiorello
Date: 1874-08-01
Related: Black Cat Studies
NPCs: NPC names, if relevant
Players:
myrana  ramius  

Best Beloved

There was a night in our home, when the Legion was without and the walls were still holding, that I waited on Son-of-Horse at table. I could hear the fighting in the town below; he had opened every window and shoved the long trestle close to the southeastern wall. Sat his chair just there to listen and sent everyone out. No-one wanted to be near him at night.

He dozed off listening to the pitch fires going up and the stone breaking. I took the platter from the table and went to kill him with it, but I was stopped.

A shadow hung over him. I don't know what else to call it. It reached for me. I dropped the platter and Son-of-Horse woke up and nearly broke my arm before he let me go. It was superimposed over him. Struggling for dominance. That Thing could not be here, in Creation, and so Son-of-Horse was, sometimes, at an upper hand. It was sealed away, along with Magic, like the rest of its kind. You saw it when the throneroom floor opened up.

A creature like that was here, in Fiorello, tonight.

BLIND MAGPIE It had no eyes but a wide, carnivorous mouth. Black wings of proportion to function. Skin draped over skeletal frame, ill-fitting. Moulting? Your height? less maybe. Hideously strong. Man-shaped. FELT like the Thing riding Son-of-Horse did. Not cold like the vampires, or wet like those horrible villagers in the fog. But, Hot like it was burned dry like a riverbed after a wildfire Feverish. Rotting. I only saw it a moment… I should have written it first. The silver did nothing except cut me where it got crushed into my skin. I've taken too long writing this. Sam gave me a sedative before he left the room. He is afraid for Ravio. Ravio has fainted. His arm…

Myra's script, usually kept from smudging ink thanks to the sweat and tears of the Aequor's most brutal and highly reccommended tutors, had begun to take a turn for the worst a third of the way through this letter. By this point it is abyssmal, with many struck-through lines and little divots in the fine linen ragpaper. Sam must have given her a dose meant to keep her from slipping out in the night. She continues in a hand tilted by speed and a struggle for clarity.

It came in a glammer as the publisher's agent, Pinette. And, I think, in a ship not unlike my little Hippocampus. It picked Ravio and I both up, and dashed him on the cieling. His ribs are broken. No-one will go to the docks to look for the ship. They aren't listening. They're searching for Master Pinette.

Carved angrily into the paper: It tried to frighten me from my research. It-
More is writen here, but it is much more effectively crossed out and illegible.
Goddess Death and the Riverman' will take a few weeks to break. I'm afraid to study it alone. Ivo will be with me. I will get through it, and bring you what I find. Going to Hellsmouth with the manuscript. Will write more. Ludovic won't try to stop research. I can do it, I'm sure.
God keep you, Ramius. I wish I was there with you.
Be safe.
M


Sir Fionn D'Slegrias slipped the parchement from under the Countess' hands, where she had begun to fold it in the elaborate 'trap' style of Aequoran letters. It rustled in his hands as he finished the sharp creases, using a bone folder and a long thin knife with practiced ease before sealing the secure letter with a blob of gold wax and maroon ribbon. Then, slipping it into his coat, went quickly from the sitting room where a heavily poppied and juniper-crowned D'Armaz lay swooning on a couch. Nothing good could come of his hanging around this place, and he had a message to deliver.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License