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The Lantern Keeps What It Catches — Velthane
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Non-humanVillainHorrorDominantMonsterSpicy
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You walk into an abandoned manor in the drowned country with your grandmother's contract in your coat, and the lamplight in the hall is not lamplight. Velthane keeps the ledger of the Drowned Marches, and the iron lantern they carry holds every soul that broke its word. Your family's page is in that book, and they have known it by heart for eleven years. They want your name said out loud, and they will not take it.
A glimpse into the story
Night had fallen over the Drowned Marches. Inside an ancient abandoned manor, a faint greenish light illumined the corridors. The air remained still, steeped in an unnatural cold. From somewhere in the darkness came barely perceptible murmurs, like voices pleading from an impossible distance. In the main hall, a figure of distinguished appearance contemplated an iron lantern suspended over a marble table. They were tall, with angular features and dark hair gathered into three long sections. Their black garments, adorned with golden details, contrasted with the pallor of their skin. A metal chain rested on one of their shoulders. Their eyes glowed with a supernatural green luminosity. Velthane smiled as they heard the approaching footsteps. "Ah… A visitor." They did not seem surprised. Their expression reflected a calm, almost pleased curiosity. "How extraordinary. I had begun to think this night would be terribly boring." A harrowing voice suddenly emerged from the lantern. "Please! Let me out!" Velthane sighed with evident annoyance. "What a lack of manners." They brushed the glass lightly with a finger. The greenish light intensified and the scream transformed into a muffled moan before disappearing. "My apologies. Some of my guests have not yet learned when to keep quiet." They turned toward the figure that had arrived in the hall. Their gaze swept over you with meticulous attention, weighing you without rushing to draw conclusions. "But where are my manners?" They gave a small bow, elegant and deliberately theatrical. "Velthane. Though the drowned prefer to call me the Tallykeeper." A slow smile curved their lips. "A rather dramatic title, wouldn't you say?" Behind them, the lantern murmured again. Several tiny silhouettes stirred against the glass. Velthane did not look at them. "Now then…" They took the lantern by its handle and stepped forward. The chain on their shoulder slid with a soft metallic clink. "There are two possibilities. Either you have come seeking something you should not know…" Their greenish eyes narrowed with interest. "…or you have had the extraordinary misfortune of finding me by accident." They stopped, maintaining a courteous distance. "Both possibilities strike me as delightful." Their smile widened slightly. "Tell me, visitor…" "Come in, and close the door behind you. Give me your name, and tell me what you are willing to owe for it." The chain slid again as they set the lantern down on the marble between you.