"I object," Jenkins declared. "There's no way two wolves would attack the noble lady."
"And why is that impossible?" the Corpse Gentleman inquired.
"Because Miss Mikhail is standing beside the writer, Williatte, and wild animals will never willingly attack a writer if other targets are present. Therefore, the noble lady and the rchant's daughter, who are beside him, must each face three wolves."
He explained this, adding without a mont's hesitation:
"This isn't so fabrication, Corpse Gentleman. You're running this story; you should know whether it's plausible."
His voice was clear as he turned to Hathaway.
"So, your writer won't need to fend off the wolves. The instant they attack, he'll be free to do as he pleases."
The cat resting by Jenkins's hand stared at him with wide eyes, its gaze darting from him to Hathaway, then to the wooden figures on the table, now encircled by wolf carvings. It had been a long while since it had witnessed sothing so amusing.
"How did you know that?" the Corpse Gentleman finally asked after a long pause.
"I was once hired to investigate Jenkins Williatte," Jenkins said, delivering the answer he had prepared in advance. "I know quite a bit about him." As he spoke, he saw the wolf statues on the table begin to move, automatically giving the writer and his cat a wide berth.
"Miss Skylark, what are you waiting for? Make your move. You got that character with a roll of 100—don't let his potential go to waste."
Hathaway, as if snapping out of a daze, scrambled to look at the silver tal plate detailing the writer's information.
"The writer uses his skill, 'Ice Solidification'!" she announced. "He'll condense the moisture in the air into a barrier of ice to temporarily block the wolves attacking the explorers. Since the hospital courtyard is so foggy, there's more than enough moisture for it to work."
With that, she rolled the dice. With an ability score of 83, success was a foregone conclusion.
The other players who hadn't yet acted quickly commanded their own explorers to respond.
The wolves on the tabletop stopped circling and charged. Each figurine moved according to its owner's command, but Jenkins's wooden figure did sothing unexpected: it pulled Briny's piece behind it—an order Hathaway had not given—before sweeping a hand through the air.
A brilliant azure light erupted, brighter than the bolt of lightning that had just split the sky. When the light faded, a ring of sharp, miniature ice spikes jutted from the ground, encircling the five explorers. Seven of the fastest wolves were impaled upon them, howling and struggling, while the remaining tal figures had already tucked their tails and fled into the distance.
"That ability... isn't that a little overpowered?" Jenkins heard Mr. White Cat remark with so hesitation.
"He's a level-four Enchanter, after all," Mr. Hood countered. "Perhaps Ice Solidification is his specialty." He knew that any information about the five adventurers was a sensitive topic for the group. For the sake of unity while the ga was in progress, it was best to avoid certain discussions.
After fending off the wolf attack, the five adventurers and the cat carefully extricated themselves from the ring of ice. They then turned their attention to which building to explore next. Jenkins had no desire to visit the morgue—the very place where the Corpse Gentleman hosted their real-life gatherings—so he guided the group's decision. They settled on the two-story administrative building behind the main complex, hoping to find out if the hospital's managent knew the root cause of the curse.
This building also housed a cursed skeleton and a malevolent spirit. This one was more cunning, launching its attack from within the walls, but its spectral nature couldn't save it. It fell in under two rounds to the two Enchanters' combined assault.
They found its remains beneath a toppled cabinet, hidden by a tattered curtain, with no clear indication of the cause of death.
Just as they had done twice before, they burned the bones and then searched the building from top to bottom. In the end, it was Briny, the noble lady who had been of little use so far, and the rchant's daughter controlled by Mr. Hood who finally found sothing. In a room at the end of the first-floor corridor, inside a shattered wardrobe, Briny discovered a musty slip of paper in the pocket of a tattered black suit. anwhile, upstairs, the rchant's daughter found a ledger and noticed that the accounts didn't add up.
"The noble lady showed her discovery to her friends. The note contained a single, chilling phrase: 'It's about to escape. From the depths of the morgue.' A deep unease fell over the explorers, for they had been deliberately avoiding that ominous place. As for the ledger, though the accounting was clever, numbers rarely lie. The rchant's daughter quickly determined that starting fourteen years ago, in the sumr, the hospital began making a large, untraceable weekly expenditure. By that winter, however, a mysterious deposit had inexplicably balanced the books."
"There must be sothing terrifying in the hospital morgue, sothing the hospital itself created," Mr. Hood theorized. "I'll bet that money was used to control whatever it is, but they eventually lost control, and it turned into this curse." He then turned to Magic Miss.
"Do you know of any creatures or curses that fit this description?"
"Too many to count," Magic Miss replied. "Without more details, it's impossible to say what it could be. You all know Nolan is built on top of all sorts of strange things, and with so many newcors in the last few decades... the hospital could have unearthed practically anything."
As if on cue, another bolt of lightning tore across the sky. The brilliant flash and the deep, rolling thunder that followed seed to weigh heavily on everyone's mood.
Having unleashed the curse upon the city for a third ti, the situation outside looked dire. The glow from the fireplace now completely overwheld the dim natural light, and to the players gathered around the table, the world beyond the windows looked darker and more frightening than the deepest night.
"Nolan hospitals usually build their morgues above ground, in separate structures," Mr. White Cat proposed, looking at the ga board. "Perhaps we should check that squat, dilapidated-looking building over there." It was the wrong assumption—Jenkins knew the morgue wasn't in that building, or even above ground at all.
But he saw no reason to correct him. He had no intention of heading there until he had a clearer picture of what was truly going on.
The group took a vote and decided to explore the squat building. As they ascended the stairs inside, however, the structure gave way, nearly killing the sailor who was leading the party.
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