The portrait of horror! I really liked making the possessed doll and haunted mirror, so I decided to make another ghostly construct. There’s some (really rough and informal) lore under the cut. I’m still working on the actual lore, the existing lore is kind of just a placeholder.
The artwork is ‘Blue Curtain’ by Jinifur. Check out her page, here!
A vast hall at the end of a bustling street held one of Cantus’s most famous auction houses. It was nearly empty, save for a large group of town guards.
“What’s going on, here?” The guards would have known the voice, anywhere. One of them groaned.
“The daughter of the late Baroness Eliza came to sell off some of their possessions, last night. She and the auction keeper were found dead, this morning,” a guard stated, matter-of-fact.
“Oh, how horribly tragic,” Icares had no emotion in his voice.
“Grow a heart,” Kain insisted as he approached the scene. All at once, a member of the guard doubled over and collapsed, grabbing at his head. Several more shouted in surprise, and Kain rushed over and set his hand on the injured man’s temple. A small glow of energy brought the man back to his feet. He shook his head.
“I just… felt like someone was tearing at the back of my neck,” the guard whispered as he caught his breath. The others looked around. There was nothing there, not even when they searched the place. The guards hesitantly went back to unloading the Baroness’ crates.
“Hey, check this out,” a guard raised a gloved hand to motion everyone over. A particularly odd painting, on the top of the stack, rested in his arms. It was nearly too big to hold, given its giant frame of gilded brass.
“What would the Baroness Eliza be doing with a portrait of the auction director?” The scene showed a dusty study, with the Baroness seated on a luxurious chair and the director in the very background, reaching for a book. He was almost a blur, so much so that no one would have known it was him, if not for his unmistakable hair style.
“That portrait is over three hundred years old,” everyone turned to Icares, who had his arms crossed, “The baroness’ family line wasn’t even an established house by then. None of the three figures would’ve been alive at the time of the art’s creation.”
“How did you know that?” Kain was nearly awestruck.
“It has an inscription on the back,” it wasn’t three seconds before Icares had struck a torch across his pack and lit it. Barely anyone had time to shout before he lit the painting ablaze. It screamed in an incomprehensible language.
“You can thank me later.”
