He nods. "The only visitors are ghosts and my old master. I do not know when he will return next, though."

"Okay, so definitely prioritize getting your heart out of here sooner rather than later," she says, nodding. "Uh - do you think we, either together or either one of us, could beat him in a fight?"

"Yes," he replies instantly. "...he fights with butcher cleavers. And only butcher cleavers. And he always breaks them."

"... But they're made by you," is what comes out, some unholy mixture of offended and disbelieving.

"I can make them last longer than they otherwise would. Not indefinitely. Not after whatever he does with them."

He says all of this perfectly expressionlessly, in a complete toneless deadpan.

She considers this.

"... So, that's a yes for helping me kill him?"

"If it would serve my lady," he says, though he sounds—a bit befuddled.

"I mean, yes, but I was thinking more, hm. Giving you closure? I'm assuming you would find it fun to kill him."

"...if he is a better fighter than I expect him to be then it... would be thrilling to fight him, yes," he replies, trying to take a guess at what exactly it is she is trying to say.

Is she weird for viscerally wanting to butcher her old master for the her treatment while she was enslaved?? Possibly it depends on how badly the mistreatment was. But Cyllian's seems like it was pretty bad. Maybe phantoms are weird?? Or being a sort of being that is built to have a master just, like, does things to one's psychology?? Unclear. He probably doesn't want to be stolen again, though, he's already perked up a lot. Even if this relationship of theirs is a little bit uncomfortable on her end.

"... Okay. Well. Unless he's, I don't know, tirelessly working to improve the lives of people everywhere then I think on principle he should die. So he doesn't show up to try and steal you back. What sorts of hobbies does he have?"

"Creating ghosts. This entire town was his handiwork."

"Creating. Ghosts. ... Does this perchance involve the butcher knives."

"He's told me that it does but I have not personally observed the process."

Iovetra's vague folk knowledge of ghosts is that they come about when someone dies in agony. Or possibly having things unfinished, being unsatisfied with life? That sort of thing. Definitely not, you know. The sort of thing that humans would consent to.

"Yeah, he's going to die," she says, very seriously. "Did he leave anything of his lying around? Some of his butchered cleavers, maybe?"

"He sometimes brings their handles back but not always, and I have been reusing them in the forge." Bad enough that the Soultaker would shatter his craftsmanship, Cyllian wasn't about to let it all go to waste if he could help it.

Damn. That would have made it too easy, wouldn’t it. She’s not particularly good at it, but she’s aware that there’s a way to track someone down by objects they’ve spent a lot of time with.

“Oh, well,” she sighs. “I guess a guy making ghosts is fairly obvious, anyway. Any, uh. Obvious characteristics that stand out? Did he give his name?”

"He calls himself Foulrot the Soultaker, and he wears the head of a dead horse. According to him, he is actually the spirit of the dead horse possessing the body of a human."

“What the fuck.”

No comment.

Yeah her sentence wasn’t exactly expecting a comment, just. Just. What the fuck.

“… he wears a dead animal’s head??? It’s actual head! Where would it even go?? Over his own?!” She considers the likely smell, and wrinkles her nose. “Is. Is there any. Any sense to the possession thing or is it just. That completely batshit insane.”

"I have not met any sentient horses, but then again, I have not met many horses, so I would not know."

“Mostly I was just wondering if he’d stay dead if I killed him, or if I would need to hunt down some mummified horse appendage or something to permanently make him stop existing,” she snorts. Then her wrinkled nose turns to a disgusted snarl. “Ugh. I’m going to have to drain him to be sure, aren’t I. While he’s wearing the dead animal head.”

"...drain him?"

? Have people forgotten how vampires work? Huh. Weird.

“Draining someone can be, ah. Intimate?” Eugh, no, that was not the way to put it, she’s talking about some sort of equine necrophiliac, “by which I mean that a vampire can pick up on bits of their memories and fears and even some of their skills.” Ask her how she knows this. Or, better yet, never do. It’s not hard to guess. “I’m not practiced at it, but between vampires the common practice was for the victor to drain the other to find the location of their coffin. And thereby have a means to end the fight permanently. This… would be in that vein.”

It is disgusting, and awful, and she hates the idea of needing to drink the blood of someone so clearly vile, but it will be worth it if she can be sure that disgusting thing is dead forever.

"...huh." He knew vampires drank blood, but... he hadn't heard about the whole everything else. "I see."