"You mean your son..." Lawrence started, unsure of how to phrase it delicately and Marquis Donovan nodded, giving a deep sigh. The Marquis looked around the room, his face expressionless as if hundreds of memories jogged through his brain.

"This room was known to the lords as the Tuning Room. Every head of House Donovan uses this room for their less legitimate affairs, assassins, messages from the crown... Things that brought the House to greater heights in servitude to the crown of Carmine but..." Marquis Donovan flopped onto a couch. Of course, no sound or dust was disturbed. He was just a spectre after all.

"What did they do in this room?" Lawrence asked and Marquis Donovan held up his hand.

"Before we go there, there is a tale you need to hear. I'm going to assume you are not in a rush?" Marquis Donovan said, offering a sad smile. In Lawrence's mind was Craig rushing him about his niece but it seemed as if everything is connected. Maybe giving the Marquis a listen will be good?

"Sometime ago, a man in robes came to our keep, seeking employment as a torturer. Our old resident torturer has passed on and we needed one to work with the headsman. That's fair and all. However, this man showed an... Unusual skill in torturing people. No secrets were ever safe from him. He would work the... Most cruel tortures or string your family up and have you sing."

"That man... Was Venti Laughlin, or The Butcher, as most came to call him. It was my single biggest mistake to welcome him to our fires as our own. One could hardly blame me actually... The information he provided... Ah nevermind that..." Marquis Donovan sighed in frustration as he gestured for Lawrence to sit down, pointing at a suspiciously red chair, causing Lawrence to offer a polite smile and shake his head politely.

"Then one day, as I lay sick in bed, I heard my personal guards shouting at the door and a few moments later, a group of men came into my room, their daggers covered with blood. They wore hoods of red and among them, was my bastard son."

"I could barely sit up, but I forced myself to and I could see four of my personal guards lying outside. My bastard son... Was of course not even at the head of it. He never had the skills or brutality to be a Donovan!" Marquis Donovan shouted, slamming his hand against the side of the couch.

"Venti stepped forward, with that disgusting book I confiscated, it was a... Book known as the Necromancy Methods of Archmaester Chevalten."

"Magic does not exist in this world, but... Watching your melee with my son may change my mind about it!" Marquis Donovan guffawed and Lawrence tapped his chin uncertainly.

"If magic does not exist, what is necromancy?" Lawrence asked and Marquis Donovan then began his explanation. Necromancy in this realm as people know it is an evil art by removing the souls from one's body partially and binding it to the husk which is the body."

"Therefore, the soul is tied to the exterior of the body, preventing a person from dying completely, but forbidding the soul from going to rest."

"I see..." Lawrence muttered as he pondered over what he just heard. Basically... It was a resurrection, but only on the body without restorative properties? That would explain how souls were readily available to pummel the Marquis' son.

"And anyway... Onwards with my tale. All of them decided that the head of the family shall be the very first sacrifice in their first ritual! It was not pleasant, if I was ten years younger, I would have carved through all of them like a knife through butter but..." Marquis Donovan shrugged.

"They dismembered me in this very room, full of weird symbols and stuff... Even my body at the funeral was a fake," Marquis Donovan sighed and Lawrence felt awkward, not knowing what to say.

"However, it was Venti Laughlin who taught my son necromantic arts and when Father Karl rescued that little girl, it was Venti who volunteered to be the... What was the term... The person to commune with the Devil," Marquis Donovan said and Lawrence nodded. It seemed as if this Venti Laughlin was the head and significantly tougher than what he had just fought.

"To kill the Communed, you have to bathe it in holy fire, which I see that you are perfectly capable of doing, so this fixes a lot of things," Marquis Donovan said.

"However, from my time hiding inside these walls to know more about what brought the downfall of my family has taught me a few things that not just an overwhelming blast of sacred fire can fix," Marquis Donovan said, lowering his head and looking at his own shoes before looking at Lawrence.

"If you were to bath him in holy fire, his soul would wander still and with enough rest, after you are lying in the ground after having served God's will, it will possess yet another person who craves its' power," Marquis Donovan said and Lawrence held up his hand.

"You are losing me here. Does this mean that the unde- unlife has been around before?" Lawrence asked and Marquis Donovan shrugged.

"Perhaps the period of recovery will be so long that Empires have fallen, families lay below the ground, buildings turned to dust? Or perhaps this is the first time ever? Who knows? But from my time observing him... Well... He has often said this is the best body he has ever gotten in, so who knows?" the Marquis replied and Lawrence followed up with another question-

"Are there still followers of this cult around?" Lawrence asked but for this one, the Marquis hesitated for a moment.

"I can say that any during my time and my son's were slaughtered by either Leviathan and his men or by the paladins and crusaders or by the sailors, of course. But... Today... You will have to find out yourself. After all, I'm sure you will be going on to find the Butcher if you are asking such questions."

"But first, please go to the painting of my forebear and remove it from the wall. There was something my personal butler, Rior managed to do before his joining me in the coffin," Marquis Donovan smiled and he walked Lawrence to the painting they saw earlier. As Lawrence removed the painting, it was a hollow in the wall, containing a large seal and a sealed letter.

"This is the seal of the House Donovan. If you can be so kind, I would like you to help me track down the last living member of House Donovan that I suspected has slipped out of here once he realized something was wrong," Marquis Donovan smiled sadly.

"This... Who will it be? How would I identify him?" Lawrence asked and Marquis Donovan sighed.

"He is my bastard, the child I had with a lowborn farmer. His name was Gregor Smith, not a Donovan. But please, I expect him to not be young anymore as well. Please bring him here and make him my heir. The letter makes things clear for him. The Van Shelks and Blacks will support my last will, at least I hope so." Marquis Donovan sighed, a small smile, as if that of contentment. Lawrence then thought, perhaps the Donovans were close to the two families?

"I... I will help your son as well if I find him."

"Thank you, I won't be going anywhere anytime soon as well," Marquis Donovan laughed and as Lawrence left, he could see a smile full of radiance on the ghost of Marquis Donovan, as if he had seen hope in a long time.

"Where were you, Lawrence? We should push on, I need to get to my niece!" Craig barked at Lawrence from afar and Lawrence broke into a jog.

It was time to sort out another monster. If he had the skills, then by the Gods, he will end this menace.