Herald of death

Ivy unsummons the spell she was preparing. She strides forward, passing Derek and then the armored women. Her party follows her, their eyes staying on the three hostesses. Ethan imitates them, keeping everyone in his Prescience-enhanced sight.

Ethan eyes the three women. They look like triplets, sharing the same elegant facial features, height, and shapes. Each wears a tiara of some sort around their long black hair, thick and engraved with snake scales. One of them, whose tiara shines with reddish hues and bears a ruby, stares back at him. Though redirected towards the end of the hall, her gaze was intense, almost hateful.

The three remaining stressed men finally lower their weapons and follow. Repeating their stone grinding sound, the gates close behind them. The three hunch at the sound. Everything worries them, even more than it stresses Russ.

The illuminated hallway ends in a stone, ornate door. 'Cain Slaying Abel,' Ethan remembers as he sees the sculpted gates. It is a faithful medium change of the painting he once saw in London.

Statues line the wall of the hallway, depicting various historical characters of varied periods. 'Ceasar, King Midas, Nero, Genghis Khan, Louis sixteen,' Ethan notes. There are others he doesn’t recognize amongst the pristine marble statues.

Where there aren't statues lie thick wooden doors devoid of decorations. They bear no sculpture, gold, or even silver and look poor in comparison to the rest. Weirded by it, Ethan notices the absence of smells. He can smell Russ and many of the others, but he doesn't sense a hint of dust, rust, moisture, or anything that should be in a castle.

"Wait, isn't that Julius Caesar? What the fuck is he doing here?" Derek asks loudly. He approaches the statue, triggering no response from the hostesses that have been following them.

"I was thinking they were people from the otherworld," Grant admits. He grabs his chin as he looks at one of the statues. His expression makes Ethan wonders if Grant is feinting to think.

"We passed like three Greek temples and got attacked by Draugrs. How uncultured must you be to not recognize them?" one of the men lagging behind says, annoyed. He hides a light Nordic accent, but his square jaw and blond hair cut like a Viking's betray his origins. Pointing at status, he adds, "I get it for Egil Skallagrimsson, but man, Midas? Genghis Khan?"

"Shut the fuck up, Mikko. No one like a know it all," Derek says. He scuffs and catches up with Ivy, who looks at him with a displeased expression.

Ethan glances at the ceiling above the stone door. A landscape of mountains laden with distant naked men eviscerated by ground-bound blades lies there. Demonic figures, most likely Chinese Yaoguais, overview the torment. 'I should have read Journey to the West,' Ethan grumbles to himself.

Mikko glances at Ethan and looks at the ceiling. A hint of recognition sparks on his face. "This is the hell of the mountain of knives. The ones who kill without good reasons go there."

"A crime not far from the sin of wrath, especially when motivated by envy," Ethan whispers back to Mikko. Searching for any other hidden painting, Ethan moves around while looking at the ceiling.

Metallic sounds escaping the door attract Ethan's attention. It opens, releasing wafts of roasted meat and fried foods into the hallway. An unnamed man, whose short hair shines with sweat and oil, runs into the next room.

"Fabio, wait!" Ivy yells, her voice between worry and command. She breaks into a jog, reaching the doorway right after him. The room behind holds a royal table made of marble and contoured with gold. Filled with roasted hogs and pheasants, steamed fish, omelets, and more, the banquet shines with countless colors.

Fabio rushes to the table, grabbing a golden, fish-molded pitcher to empty it of its water. The three armored women move to the first chairs, unfazed by his behavior. They slide the seats back, inviting them to sit at the banquet.

While they restrain themselves, everyone's face betrays their thirst and hunger. Their gazes move around as they search for any sign of deceit. A throne lies empty at the end of the table, stuffed with velvet and embroidered with gold.

"Please restore yourselves after this long journey," the hostesses say. One of them moves back the throne, as if inviting one of them to sit in it despite eight normal chairs being present at the table.

"I thought we were going to meet your lord," Ivy says, voicing Ethan's inner thoughts. She places her hand on one of the chairs but still refrains from sitting. "Is he to join this table?"

"They invite you to enjoy the meal they prepared for you," the hostesses say. They move to three corners of the room, like guards watching over the banquet. "Your journey must have been long and arduous; they will grant you audience once you have had time to restore yourselves and rest."

"They seem to have been waiting for sometimes," Ethan says. He moves to the last corner with Russ, ensuring that everyone is in his sight. "Having recently slept and eaten, would I be eligible to meet them now? I'm grateful for their generosity, but I have no need to eat more than necessary."

"The lord will grant you a single, common audience. You are welcome to wait on the side and to spend the night awake," they say.

Ethan ponders for a moment; their answer is an occasion to gauge if this place encourages or antagonizes sins. Increasing the Ether he uses for Prescience, he asks, "Do they value their time over ours? Your lord sounds quite prideful."

The three hostesses' gazes snap to him, hateful. They calm themselves as quickly as his words angered them and answer in unison. "They care only to ensure equality between their guests."

'That's quite the reaction. But what rules does this place want us to follow? Avoiding committing one of the seven deadly sins is evident, but should I follow the ten commandments? And what of the Bible, the Koran, the Torah, the Taoism precepts, or even the religions of the otherworld?' Ethan thinks. His inner thoughts worry him, for he's guilty of many crimes in all the religions he knows. He's undeniably a killer, a liar, and a thief, more than once guilty of the sin of wrath.

"Did you find something out?" Ivy asks, still standing beside her chair. She glances back at Fabio, who is stuffing his face with meat. "We should share anything we understand or find."

Ethan presses his tongue against his palate; sharing intelligence with strangers goes against his ways. He glances at the hostesses, ready to decipher their reactions, as ephemeral as they are. "You should eat if you're hungry and drink if you're thirsty. But you should stop once you've had enough and be thankful for it. This place is judging us, or rather is putting us to the test, to see if we will commit sins when given the opportunity."

The three overseeing women do not react to his warning. Fabio lays down his fork, his food touching his plate for the first time. Muttering in Italian, he joins his hands for a prayer. Ivy seats and serves herself small portions of several appetizing dishes. No one chooses the throne.

They eat in silence, often looking back at the hostesses. Despite their position giving them a view of the entire room, the three women stare in the distance. Once every few minutes, Ethan catches one staring at someone.

The one bearing a ruby continues to focus on Ethan himself. Another's attention, whose tiara holds an emerald, switches between Fabio and the remaining man. Wearing an amber, the last of the three's interest lies in Ivy.

'It's only noon, but they spoke of spending the night. Do they intend to make us sleep here, to test our laziness?' Ethan thinks. He glances down at Russ, who is watching the room. 'I don't think religions judge animals, so why did he count as a participant? I need to watch him now that he angers himself easily, plus he would never say no to food.'

Derek's breaths grow faster. Curious, Ethan switches Prescience for Predator's sight and sees that all their hearts are beating wildly. Their faces contort as they struggle against their will to eat. The hostesses smirk, returning to their poker faces as they notice Ethan looking at them.

Mikko's hands tremble as he approaches a glass of wine from his lips, fear clear in his eyes. Throwing sausage down his throat, Grant seems on the edge of throwing up. Ivy hits the table with her fist, rising to her feat as she throws her roast-beef-holding fork in her plate.

'How can it be a sin if your coerced into it?' Ethan thinks. He visualizes the sigils of the Lightning Bolt spell and pours a sliver of Ether into it. Electricity crackles between his fingers; he sends it into the table's metallic contour, jolting everyone sat at it. They stand up in shock and let go of their silverware.

"If you all finished your meal, you are free to roam the castle until the lord grants you your audience," they say. "Should you need anything to ensure your wellbeing during your stay, you may call upon us at any time."

"We don't know your names," Ivy says. She steps away from the table, looking at Ethan's hand. "You didn't present yourselves."

"Names are knowledge, and knowledge is power, a power we do not wish to grant you," they say. "To demand our service, you may speak our request in any of the castle's rooms."

'I wonder how mad they would be if I said their names aloud, curiosity not being a deadly sin. Their aura is stronger than Ivy's, but still weak, and their armors are made of non-Ether-reinforced steel. I could take them,' Ethan thinks. He glances at the one bearing a ruby and triggers Insight. "Tisiphone," he reads on the window.

Tisiphone

Lv.20/20 (Fury) Fury

Strength: 19 Charisma: 20

Dexterity: 24 Perception: 19

Constitution: 16 Willpower: 17

Intelligence: 15

Talent

Killers' tally

Abilities

Chains of guilt (D)

Edge of oblivion (F)

Excruciate (D)

Hunter's mark (D)

Inventory (F)

Alteration

Servant of the Labyrinth of Death

"I knew it," Mikko exclaims. His gaze moves between the three of them. "You three are the Erinyes, the furies of old Greece. Megaera punishes oath breakers, Alecto those who sin against their family, and Tisiphone the murderers."

'Well, that makes sense,' Ethan thinks. He notices Ivy recoiling at the mention of Alecto's duty. Frost coalesces once again in her hand, her gaze aimed at the amber-bearing fury.

"We mean you no harm and only serve the will of the lord," they say in unison. Their sights stay on Ethan, showing not wrath but their annoyance at his meddling. Their wings unfurl, propelling them into the arches of the ceiling. They vanish through passages carved into the walls, behind cornices and decorations.

'It's a good thing I won't need to sleep. Might as well explore; it could be seen as sloth if I languished here until they summon us,' Ethan thinks. He lifts himself from the wall he was leaning on and walks out of the room, returning to the hallway and its many doors.