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Diary of Ilan, Son of Rolin (Volume VII)

Written in 269 DHT, this book segment was archived by Captain Elzon of the Ghosthunters in the Guild's library in Corgath as a first-hand record as to what life is like for an average Ghosthunter.

This will be my seventh diary since my career as a Ghosthunter had begun. It doesn’t get any easier, I’ll tell you that. Perhaps it’s my age? No matter, I’m still more than capable of  doing this job. At least it’s relatively exciting. You’d figure after 6 years of doing this crap you’d have seen it all. But no, it seems like every week these damn ectoplasms keep finding weird ways to infest things. Just today I had quite the case. Wasn’t that hard, but it took awhile for us to figure out how things happened.

Some rich asshole--a Corgathian nblem nobleman or something- passed away and was getting his body embalmed to be stored in the family catacombs. The embalmers didn’t realize their water source had a colony of ectoplasms living inside it. It was a wooden barrel, oak I think. I’m no expert on wood. Honestly, I’m not sure how the ectoplasms even got in there. But yeah, exactly what you’d think would happen occurred. After returning to the body the next day, the embalmers got chased into the streets by the possessed body and ran all the way to the marketplace where some quick-thinking merchants collapsed a stall on it. That’s when I arrived, and put the thing out of its misery. Like I said, an easy job, but still wacky. Turns out the embalmers had also been drinking out of that barrel. Ha ha! They’d be fine as long as they stayed alive, but I killed the colony there anyways.

Another uneventful day today. But tomorrow should be MUCH more exciting. I got a notification by the local captain that there was possibly a possessed wolf in the nearby countryside. Some farmer’s livestock kept ending up possessed, and several Ghosthunters have visited over the past week. They can’t find a source despite searching the entire farm. They just about turned the place inside out. The farmer’s family’s been offered a place to stay with some of the Ghosthunters’ homes while we deal with whatever the hell is going on. Captain Esso Efo Ezol Ezlo The Captain said he’d lead us on a hunt to try and track down whatever predator’s been possessed. This could take WEEKS to be honest, but it can’ be worse than the pose possessed phayu I spent a month chasing in the Sangmyung Valley a couple years back. Other than that, nothing hapened happened today, which wasn’t unwelcome. I took the day to visit some of the merchants I met yesterday and buy some of their goods. Bobe is a baker, selling his bread in the morning at the market while he bakes through the afternoon into the evene evening for the next day. I bought a loaf today, and had some of it for supper. Hard to bele believe this man doesn’t work in the royal kict kitchens! I’ll be taking the rest of this bread with me on the hunt, shouldm should make a decent snack along the way.

The hunt has begun! Captain Elzon led our team of 4 Ghosthunters through the countryside today. The other 3 Ghosthunters are Lythia, Mokkil, and Gregory. Lythia is a lovely older lay lady, with more years of this Ghosthunter business under her belt than even the Capti Captain. She’s very sweet despite being hardened by her years. Reminds me of my own mother, almost. Mokkil on the other hand is a complete oaf. He’s a mountain of a man, as strong and as dumb as a death crab. No doubt he smells worse than one though. Despite all this, he’s far from incompetant. I’ve worked with far worse Ghosthunters. Gregory is the last of our group, and he’s a very kind soul. He fancies himself a musician too, I believe. He’s always playing his pipe while we’re walking, and it does not dos sound that bad. It’s definitely doing something to improve all of our moods. Captain Elzon himself is an older man--not as old as Lythia, but his salt & pepper hair plus wrinkled face reveal that he’s also explored the land of the living far longer than I. He does not speak much, rather other than give orders. Not that I mind, of course. Some captains I’ve worked with have been borderline ABUSIVE.

The band of us met up at the farm. The name of the farmer’s family is the Agons. Haven’t met them myself, but I’d assume they’re decent people. They’re peasants, but their home is in quite good condition. Overnight, Captain Elzon had set up a perimeter of Ghoststone fences, just to prevent anymore livestock from getting killed. Not that it worked. Whatever this thing is, it doesn’t give a damn about a tiny little fence. It must be bgi bigger than a wolf. Whatever it is, it’s large enough to propagate while retaining its original host. I’m thinking maybe a troll or even a treant. Definitely not airborne, since in my experience, things that can ignore fences usually won’t bother with wrecking them- so probably not a dragon. Another benefit of this thing being terrestrial is the trail of wreckage it leaves in its wake. It led into the surrounding woods, but from there anyone who isn’t trained to track would have easily lost the path of debris in the forest leaf litter. We spent the rest of the day following the trail until we came across a little cave that we’re in right now. We’ll rest for now until first light, when we’ll set out again.

Nothing of note happened today. We continued to follow the trail, yet our efforts bore NO fruit. I think we were all a little disappointed when we decided to stop and set up camp. Most of us seemed eager to catch this thing within the span of the day, but now we’ll be out here even longer.

I’ve still got half of Bobe’s bread, so I guess I can’t complain that much. Gregory knows how to fish, and was kind enough to catch enough fish for each of us to add to our supper. I do hope tomorrow will be more successful.

At long last! We failed in capturing our target, but we know what it is. A true monster--a sluggdon, likely once strayed too far from Isutan pastures. It’s frightening how fast these overgrown slugs can move--fortunately away from us.

Captain Elzon is skeptical despite seeing the glowing blue sores confirming the beast’s possession. He says that a possessed sluggdon would surely be inf injured by the ghoststone fence he’d erected. He also doubts that a sluggdon could survive this long after being possessed since it lacks an internal skeletal structure. Lythia and I believe that there’s a chance that the Sluggdon was a more recent possession and its behaviour was inherited by a smaller possessed being that propagated into the new host. Perhaps a moss lycan, wolf, deer-tiger or even fox. The Captain’s not convinced. Regardless, we’ll take out the damn thing and with luck, the Agons won’t have to deal with this madness again.

We’ve set up na another Ghoststone fence in case the monster decides to strike at night. Mokkil’s got first watch. With the way we’ve been progressing, tomorrow we’ll kill this giant deposit of refuge and we can all go home.

It is with great sorrow I write these events down. Yesterday I did not write at all, for the shock of losing a comrade in such a gruesome manner leaves one at a bit of a loss for words. Captain Elzon was right--the sluggdon wasn’t our primarh primary perpetrator. It was the treant like I suspected.

We caught the sluggdon in a Ghoststone chain net. We watched as the creature squealed, melting under the net as the magical rocks delivered a lethal dose of its properties. Just when we thought we were clear, the bloody treant attacked. It used its wooden armour to block out our weapons, and before we could believe it, Mokkil was crushed under its bark and Gregory was torn in half. Lythia was snagged by the monstru monstrous being and thrown into its mouth--she went out fighting, swinging her sword and burning the creature as it bite her, crushing her ribcage and severing her spine. The monster would not forget her sacrifice so easily, as its innards were scorched by her body corpse’s Ghosm Ghostmail, leaving it more than vulnerable for Captain Elzon and myself to finish off.

I won’t lie to myself- getting over twice the amount of pay is nice. Captain Elzon and I split the block we earned, and without the othr other three, our cuts were much larger. But it’s hard to exhibit joy when you just received a reminder about how deadly your job truly is.

Captain Elzon seemed more grim-faced at the loss of our comrades than me. Even the comfort of money did little to disperse his fallen face. Do I feel guilty? Lying here on my bed in the city, candlelight warming the air and cloth to cover myself in? Meanwhile the others’ last moments were spent in the darkness of a colf cold forest.

Bloody hell, I’m going soft aren’t I? This job is dangerous. All of us Ghosthunters are--or SHOULD BE--aware of the risks we take when we sign on.

I returned to Bobe again today, as it was yet another uneventful day. I lost be my bread in the fight with the possessed treant, and with the surplus of block I’ve got, I can afford to buy some more of his baked goods. His neihg neighbor, an older lady who sells quilts, saw me and told me she captured an ectoplasm in a jar that she found in the back of her store. Sure enough, the little blue blighter was there in a jar, unmoving in its hopeless glass prison. I dealt with the captured slime swiftly, although I refused to be paid by the lady. I forget her name now. But, my pockets are heavy with block at the moment, and this old woman had already done the hardest oar part! I couldn’t and still can’t understand it. This elderly lady moved slower than a crippled vengeful ewe.

I ran into Lars in the marketplace as well. I guess it’d been about 3 or 4 months since I last saw him. He had heard that I went out on a hunt with Captain Elzon, and wanted details. At first he was excited enough at the prospect of stalking such a beast, but upon hearing ano about its true nature, his enthusasm enthusiam enthusiasm was thro thoroughly curbed. We arranged a time to go and get a drink sometime next week. Lars’ got a busy week of exterminations at the moment, but fortunatey fortunately it’s nothing as risky as what I set out on.

A family of possessed violet nightfangs were on the chopping block today. A local butcher reported seeing nightfangs with glowing blue sores going through his waste deposits. It was an easy task, since nightfangs can’t escape from situations easily without leaping like grasshoppers. All I had to do was throw a Ghoststone net over the lot of them and watch as they shrieked and flailed. A leisurely stabbing finished them off.

Another Captain met with me today, perhaps a friend of Elzon? I didn’t ask. His name was Aquin, and he had traveled down from the Nameless Town to ask about the possessed Treant. It seems like he was trying to get details about the creature’s appearance and behaviour? I seem to recall him saying something about creating a guidedo guidebook or manual on the effects of possession on living organisms.

He’d originally been working out of Korlock before he became a captain and moved South. You typically don’t get as many ectoplasm incidents in warmer places like Korlock, but that doesn’t mean they don’t happen! Apparently he’d seen some crazy stuff, like possessed giant turtles… whi with two heads or something? I forget what he called them, but it sounded terrifying. I guess I got a bit excited at the idea of dealing iws with these exotic possessed animals. Around Corgath, it always seems to be the same victims. Even the few times I dealt with Songkram possessions it’s almost always a sluggdon, phayu or human. Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to travel to the Village of Con or Icthy’s Rest or somewhere far away and fight the ectoplasm menace there. Maybe even the Dawn Wastelands, although I’m not sure if there are even ectoplasms there. Apparently there’s different problems to be dealt with there.

Aquin told me to let him know if I ever headed West enouhg enough to pass by the Nameless Town, just ask for him at a bar or something. Seems like he’s well known enough there.

What an absolute mess today. I woke to the sound of Corgathian knights banging on my door. At first I thought I had unknowingly broken a law and was now about to pay with my life! But soon enough I learned that they were gathering up as many Ghosthunters as they could find. A massive monster, spider-like and yellow, had stumbled towards Corgath and smashed its body against & through the outer walls! I forget what they called this thing, but it was horrid. Enormous! I’d never seen anything so huge. Sure enough, it was possessed- and for a long time too, by the looks of it. Its motor skilled skills were not good. Bits of its own flesh sloughed off with every step. It had likely wandered a long distance towards Corgath, the ectoplasms nesting inside of it quickly devouring its innards and multiplying exponentially. The largest team of Ghosthunters I’d ever worked with all gathered by the second wall, working with the Corgathian soldiers to quickly fashion ghoststone heads to the walls’ ballistas. We took the thing down using the bolts as harpoons, and then spent what must’ve been 3 hours dealing with the swarm of ectoplasms that poured from the fallen creature’s body! It was like a warzone. The giant spider must’ve been pregnant, as what appeared to be smaller (but still uncomfortably large) versions of itself ripped free from its wounds. They were all possessed too of course, and it was a nightmare trying to contain everything. We tried not to let any non-infesting ectoplasms get away, but there were SO MANY. The Corgathian soldiers weren’t prepared for dealing with ectoplasms, and everytime one died, they’d pop right back up and start running at the others, causing quite the confusion. We might’ve lost a few Ghosthunters, but no one was stupid enough to leave their Ghostmail at home. The perished Ghosthunters- may the Seraphim guide their souls- didn’t pose a threat thanks to that.

I’m no soldier, but what I witnessed today is probably the closest thing to a war I’ll ever wabn want to get involved with. All things considered, we did a good job. No civilians were reported to have been hurt, and casualties were still low despite the blundering Corgathian knights who should’ve stayed out of it!! The Corgathian soldiers paid every standing Ghosthunter a decent amount. Worth it in the end, I suppose. Maybe with all the money I have now I could think about retiring.

I took the day off today. Too much excitement for the last little bit. I’m planning on taking the next few days off too. Maybe a trip to Sharkville will do me some good. I’ve heard that the ocean air does wonders to clear your head. I haven’t been up there in a couple years in fact.

I did visit Rink today to get my weapons looked at. All the action from yesterday took a bit of a toll on my sword. Rink told me that my sword would have to be replaced. Fair enough, I guess. That monster from yesterday dah had a tough exoskeleton. Rink told me he’d give me a hefty discount because he could salvage my old sword for parts--it wasn’t in terrible state, but it was weakened enough that using it could be dangerous. He’ll need a few days to carve out a new blade, so I guess I’ll pick it up once I’m back from Sharkville. Once I’m back I’ll probably buy a few more other gadgets from him as well--I’m low on nets, fencing, throwing daggers… also I have a sneaking suspicion that my knife needs sharpening. It hasn’t quite felt as smooth. But I’m not travelling without some kind of weapon at my side, so I’ll just have Rink take a look once I return.

I ‘m currently in Sharkville. I hitched a ride with a pleasant man who was transporting fish hooks up there. Thankfully it was a quick and quiet ride. No bandits, inclement weather, or other weird things. I entertained the wagon driver with a couple of my stories from my past as a Ghosthunter, and paid him for allowing me to ride alongside him. Covin was his name, and he’d been a fisherman when he was younger. He retired to Corgath once he got too old to haul in his nets. He misses riding the waves however, which is why he returns often to Sharkville as a merchant--just to be nearby the sea and smell the breeze. I’ll never understand the way sailors romanticize the ocean. He asked me if there’s such a thing as possessed aquatic life. I told him not really--after all, it’s possible, but ectoplasms don’t like long exposure to salt water. It dire dries them out or something.

He suggested to me a place to stay, where I’m staying right now. It’s an inn called ‘The Coy Callyki’, and according to Covin it’s the bets best place to stay in Sharkville since everywhere else smells like oysters and clams. Well, I don’t know Covin, it sure smells like fish or something in this room! Fortunately I have a strong stomach. If Lars was here he’d have vomited thirteen times by now.

A pleasant walk by the docks was on yesterday’s menu. I sat on the boardwalk, watching fishermen and trval travellers board and unboard deboard from their ships. It’s truly incredible seeing some of the Phovezilan-made ships come into port. I spoke with some Phovezilan sailors today as well. It was at a tavern, I recognized them from when they had leapt off their ship earlier today. I’m surprised at how well-composed they were, being so close to Corgath. They told me that they were just sailors--their loyalty lay with the sea and whoever had payment for them. I told them we’re not that uncommon. After that I have no memory. I must have gotten drunk out of my mind. The headache I woke up with today is solid evidence that that was indeed the case. I hope I didn’t get in a fight with anyone. If I did, I won at least--no bruises on my body or face.
I’m writing this in the late afternoon. I’ll be hopping on a carriage back to Corgath in about an hour, and won’t arrive back until late at night.

My ride yesterday was smooth enough. I slept well; the comfort of my own bed will always be welcome. I love Sharkville, but Corgath will always be my true home.

Today I returned to Rink to get my new sword. If only my words would describe the craftsmanship upon this fine weapon! But alas, my writing would fail to capture Rink’s splendid work! IEvenm Even as I write this down, I can’t stop myself from looking at the piece. How exciting! Perhaps this is what I needed to be invigorated again. Ah, don’t judge me--I have a surplus of money. I may have spent a little more on the blade than I would need practically. Rink also sharpened my knio knife and I refilled my other tools. He asked about Sharkville, since in all his years of walking Legere, he’d never been there. Poor Rink as and his guild. Him and his peers are the only ghoststone carvers in all the land. Ghosthunters all across the world rely on him to craft weapons and tools. There’s no way in the unholy abyss that he’d be able to take a vacation. His ancestors who started carving the ghoststone must’ve never taken days off either by the way he talks about work. In the end, he’s damn good at his job and everyone makes sure he’s compensated for that.

So apparently since our little run in with what the officials are calling a “Yellow Matriarch”, the escaped ectoplasms have been popping up all over the city. There’s been a low amount of possessions thank goodness, but the Ghosthunters have been making an exorbitant amount of money for all the exterminations people have been calling in. I jumped on the caravan as much as I could with the afternoon light and into the evening a bit, just to make sure my purse is topped off. I suspect tomorrow will be more of the same.

I met with Lars today. We grabbed a drink at the Fat Tetrashire, and we caught up about the latest happenings. Lars is still working at Nokkville, where there’s no shortage of work. It’s much farther a little more North than Corgath, but still not freezing. The perfect environment for those little blue cocksuckers to live in. Lars has also found a nice girl! Or at least, he claims she’s nice. Ha! They’ve been together for a month--and honestly, good for him! He deserves to settle down. He’s still young--much younger than me anyways. He has no plans to retire though, which is hard because he wants to start a family. But as a Ghosthunter, he’d probably have to travel around and disappear for days, maybe weeks on end. Is that really the way to be a father? I’ll leave that call up to him. It was good to see him again.

Ah! I forgot to ask him about the Yellow Matriarch attack! I haven’t a clue whether or not he was in the city when it happened or if he was there helping out. I don’t think he was--I would’ve recognized him right? No matter, he’s alive, and I’m alive. That’s what truly matters. Unfortunately, the reunion with Lars was cut short when Captain Elzon barged in and happened upon us. He told us there was a pretty grisly scene across the street and needed our help. Honestly I have no clue how he knew we were even at the Fat Tetrashire. But it’s a good thing we were!

The barbershop on the other side of the street had escalated to a bit of a chaotic degree, to say the least. Apparently a possessed rat burrowed into the trapezius of the barber while he was shaving a nobleman, and his razor slit the man’s throat. Soon enough, you had an angry possessed barber armed with a razor, and a fat noblemen who could throw himself at you with reckless abandon. Finally--a chance to use my NEW sword! It made short work of the rich fat guy. Lars managed to disarm the barber with a stool while Captain Elzon disemboweled him with his poleaxe. Next thing you know both possessed humans are down, sans their heads.

No one else got hurt thankfully, everyone with a half of a brain ran out of the store the moment they saw the blue pustule-covered rat shrieking on the barber’s shioulder shoulder. Lars and I had a good laugh afterwards saying we should work together more often.

A terrile terrible tragedy occurred today. Once again Captain Elzon found me on the way to the market. With him was a large escort of fellow Ghosthunters--probably ten or so. At first i thought perhaps the Yellow Matriarch was back, but no, a home in the nearby countryside was suffering an extremely severe ectoplasm infestation. From my understanding, a family home had accumulated a large population of rats in their attic which descended into chaos as the possessed rats among them hunted. Soon enough, the creatures had burrowed through the ceiling, pouring down upon the family as they ate their lunch. There was a daughter in the family who had been outside gathering water from the well, so she was fortunate enough to survive the onslaught. She had run into the city for help, where she happened upon Captain Elzon. He knew the family was as good as dead, but we couldn’t afford to leave them. He gathered us up and we marched on the house. Damn. As soon as we arrived, rats poured from the doorway and windows of the house. And most horrific of all, the girl’s family shambled from the now derelict house. There were four of them--a man, a woman, a teenage girl and a baby. We had to kill them of course, since they weren’t humans anymore- just monsters. The poor girl- she watched as her father attempted to rip out one of the other Ghosthunter’s throats. She watched as we retaliated, slicing off the possessed man’s limbs and delivering a killing strike to his heart.

It’s hard enough to lose someone you know to the ectoplasms. But this was a young girl, who lost her ENTIRE family. She didn’t stop crying the whole rest of the day that I saw her. Poor thing. Captain Elzon offered to allow her to stay at his house. She’s lucky! Ghosthunter Captains make good sized block--she’ll have a nice place to stay. Eventually Elzon says he’ll find her a new home.

All of the Ghosthunters had an agreement to not worry about payment for this job. It was hazardous, sure, but the tragedy that occurred was already enough. The girl couldn’t pay, that was for sure. Captain Elzon offerred offered to pay for the job out of his own pocket to compensate the lot of us, but we all collectively declined. The price had already been paid.

^fc83a3

I went to the Seamstress Oak today to try and get some new clothing, since most of mine are riddled with holes from action. Lana was back there today my surprise! She said working at Destral was too much--the fashion there was outlandish compared to what she’d grown up working with. It’s nice to see she’d returned, and she looks happier than ever. Of course, Margot was also there, much to everyone’s disappointment. I jest, of course! The Seamstress Oak wouldn’t be the Seamstress Oak without Margot.

On the way back, I saw Captain Elzon and the little girl, Etain, on the street. It turns out overnight the young lass had some kind of fire ignited within her. She wanted to become a Ghiost Ghosthunter! Vengeance in action, no doubt. The most surprising thing was the Captain. He’d actually agreed to train the girl. She was going to shadow him everyday as he went about his business, passively soaking up the tools of the trade as she observed.

She’s got nothing left. If this is the life she wants, no one can stop her. Personally, the life of a Ghosthunter is nothing to seek.

I’ve sat here for about an hour now trying to think of what else I could write about this issue, but nothing surfaces. I’ll support young Etain and the Captain as best I can, I suppose.

My damn leg. I don’t know when it started, but it looks like I’ve got corkvein. Probably from a cut in my left leg that I must’ve gotten during the fight with the Ent. I can’t believe it.

My leg’s been a bit sore these last few days, but I’ve thought not much of it. But sure enough, my calf has developed that wood-like skin.

I’m staying at the infirmary for now, and hoping they can treat it. I might lose my whole leg since I didn’t catch this earlier. I’ll have more info tomorrow once one of the doctors can take a look.

That’s all I have to write about for now. I just want to get some sleep.

The doctor says it’s not looking good. He felt my leg, and according to him the infection’s already spread pretty far under my skin. He’s going to amputate tonight, so I’m writing this all before the procedure.

I’m worried, to be frank. Will I be able to continue my job with only 1 leg? Or am I going to be a cripple to pity on the street corner?

I’m so tired.

Leg hurts.

Where is my damn leg. My damn leg.

ECTOPLASm cuNTS. WE KILL THEm all. We’RE MORE POwERFUL.** ** HOW**????!!!!!!!!!!!!!????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!???!?!!!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!???!????!!!!!!!!!!!???!?!???!?!!?!

Ilan died in his sleep last night, a few days post amputation. I, Doctor Agins, attempted to save him by removing the infected limb, but it appears that the disease had spread further already. Corkvein is terrible. It spreads so quickly, and when you can’t see the symptoms, it can remain undetected for days if not weeks. These past few days, Ilan had a terrible fever and couldn’t eat anything. He did not speak either.

We also attempted to administer antibiotics, but the disease had progressed too far and the treatment was not effective enough to save him in time.

I only write in this book as Ilan died clutching it, and I thought an ending- albeit sad- was warranted for this Ghosthunter’s tale.

This book and its predecessors have been added to the library of Ghosthunting in honour of the late Ilan, Son of Rolin.

~Captain Enrickard Elzon