Occulturation Sidestory: Imaaj in Iron Gate

The young man wore a button-down leather waistcoat and a wide brimmed brown fedora. He also wore leather pants and spurred boots, also made of leather. The barkeep wondered if the stranger wore anything that wasn’t made of leather. It seemed almost wasteful. Even the spurs on the boots were leather, so they wore more decorative than practical. He also wore a leather belt, but without any metal, it had to be sown to the pants to keep from falling off. There was really no need for the stranger to replace every material in his clothing with leather. Leather buttons didn’t seem like they were as easy to use as buttons made of a more inflexible material.

“Why is everyone staring at me?” The stranger asks, “Don’t you ever get visitors?” Nobody answers. The entire bark is silent as people just continue to stare at the ridiculous outfit. Leather isn’t unusual in clothing, but it is odd that someone’s clothing would be made of literally nothing but leather.

The stranger, a young man, makes his way to the bar. The barkeep steels himself for what is sure to be an awkward conversation from what is clearly a rich man from the city who doesn’t understand the plight of the Outer Villages.

“Would you like anything to drink?” The Barkeep says before the stranger says anything stupid.

“No, I don’t drink.” The young man responds. The Barkeep is kind of taken off guard. What’s he supposed to say to that? This is a bar. It’s not even a versatile one. In the Outer Villages, these drinks help with the constant fear of Screamer attacks. He doesn’t even sell anything other than liquor here. No food, no non-alcoholic beverages. He has tried selling other products, but people literally come here just to take their mind off of the Screamers. There is no other reason he has ever seen. It’s troubling. For an entire week after each Screamer attack, hardly anyone is ever sober.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you come to a bar if you don’t drink?”

“Oh, it’s where everyone else is. I can’t seem to find many people outside.” Of course he can’t find anyone outside. The villages are purposefully made to look as vacant as possible. The lookouts are hidden. The Screamers typically wait for a village to repopulate before attacking again so as to not entirely deplete their food source. It’s the same reason why the farmers never butcher all of their chickens at once.

Speaking of Screamers, it’s probably why everyone is staring at the stranger right now. He hears whispers among his patrons. They are undoubtedly discussing as to whether this new person is a Screamer and what type of Screamer he may be. There are many ways to test if someone is a Screamer, most of them only work for detecting whether you're a certain specific type of Screamer. Even more specific than the 5 Screamer types, one method might be able to detect if you're a Skeleton but not if you're a Zombie even though both are Undead.

The Barkeep knows suspicions and rumors can lead to actual violence if he doesn’t clear them away as soon as possible. “Did the lookouts give you ‘The Test’ when you first came to the city?” The Barkeep asks.

“Hmm, actually, I didn’t meet anybody outside. I must have missed them.” That’s not good. Of course, this only confirms the Barkeep’s suspicion that this is a rich city man and not a Screamer. Screamers aren’t so foolish as to admit that they managed to get in without being noticed by the guards. It is suspicious that he could have possibly got past them. More whispering echoes through the bar. The patrons seem to think that this is proof that he must be a Screamer. But the Barkeep knows that today’s lookout lost his son to a Screamer attack less than a month ago, and has frequently visited the bar while not on duty. It is all too likely that he neglected his duties and was drinking on the job.

The Barkeep will need to publicly give the stranger some sort of test or else things could turn ugly. “Well, we can’t ever be too careful in the Outer Villages. We always have to double check if someone’s a Screamer because failing to catch one in disguise ends tragically. You wouldn’t mind me testing if you’re a Screamer real quick, would you?”

“Um, do I have to? I don’t like tests.”

“You don’t have to. But you’ll have to leave the town if you don’t. Just let me test you, it will be quick. I promise.” The Barkeep doesn’t wait for the young man to agree. He goes through his cupboard and takes out some supplies.

“First things first, answer me plainly. Are you a Screamer?” The Barkeep asks.

“Um, well that really depends on your pers-”

“You’ve failed the first test. But I expected as much from you city-folk. You don’t know what it’s like to live under constant threat. You think Screamers are a joke. You can just joke around about whether or not you’re a Screamer. But it’s fine. I have other tests.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“‘Insensitive?’ Only a city-folk would use words like that. Nobody cares about your feelings or mine. We only care about our safety. If I have to insult to check if you’re a Screamer, then I’ll insult you with no regrets. If I have to hurt you on the off-chance that you might hurt me, I’ll do so and rest easy at night. But nevermind that. Here’s your next test.” The Barkeep grabs the young man’s arm. He pulls up his long leather sleeves and examines the flesh beneath. He shakes some salt onto it.

“Um, is this part of the test?”

“Yes.” The Barkeep stares at the arm, but the salt doesn’t do anything. He takes out a ball of yarn and a stick. He throws both against the wall.

“How would these ‘Tests’ determine if I’m a Screamer?”

“Can’t tell you that until I’m done. Can’t be giving a potential Screamer the answers to the test.”

The Barkeep takes out his woodcarving knife and says, “Grufult, throw me that ball of yarn, will ya?” The bearded man throws him the ball of yarn. The Barkeep cuts a string of yarn and coats it in a mixture of syrup that is coated in white flakes. He lays the string along the ground.

“Walk past the string, stranger.” The young man looks confused but walks over the string. The Barkeep is certain that the young man isn’t a Screamer, but all of these tests so far are pretty weak. These tests don’t always work even on the specific Screamers they are supposed to work on. A Werewolf or Werewildcat with enough self-control can ignore the enticing thrown objects. Not all Fey and Incorporeal are stopped by salt, and those that are can often produce powerful enchantments and illusions to hide the boils forming on their skin. It's hard to keep from trembling in pain, but it’s possible to keep still. As for the string barrier, he’s not sure what type of Screamer that is supposed to stop. It might just be superstition and not even a valid test.

“So am I clear? I’ve passed the tests?”

“You did fail the first test. And that’s a pretty big deal.?

“But I’m not a Screamer. I passed the other tests!”

“If only you had taken that first test as seriously as you take it now. But it’s fine. There are still two or three tests we can go through.”

“I didn’t come here to take tests. But I can tell that you’re very concerned about Screamers.”

“If only you took Screamers seriously, we wouldn’t have to do all the worrying. I’m going to make this quick and perform all of these last tests at once.” The Barkeep pulls out an iron knife. It doesn’t look very sharp. It appears to have been carved into shape as one would carved and ground into shape as one would carve and grind a wood block into a woodcarving.

“I think I’ve heard of this one before.” The young man says, “Iron, right? It’s used for detecting Fey.”

“You’re close. Not all Fey react to Iron. But this is Cold Iron. Iron that has never known the heat of a fire. It was forged through the arduous process of grinding and carving.”

“Wouldn’t that mean it wasn’t refined, so it’s pretty much just ferrous rock?”

“I didn’t refine it. But I chipped away most of the stone and ground away some of the impurities. It’s still pretty terrible for anything other than identifying Fey and even other types of Screamers. I’m going to actually explain this test to you because you’re going to need some fair warning. I’m going to cut you. I need to draw blood to make sure you’re not one of the bloodless Screamers. And carved into this knife are the runes of the Screamer types. It is said that interaction with a Screamer symbol will reveal the Screamer or cause some sort of disturbance that allows identification.”

“Wait, you’re going to cut me?”

“Yes, don’t worry. It’s only a little blood. You’ll barely feel it.”

“Isn’t there some other way? Can’t I just touch the metal without getting cut?”

“Sorry, but that won’t be enough. We need to see whether you bleed or not.”

The young man  looks panicked. The Barkeep knows cityfolk are squeamish about blood and will do anything to avoid physical pain. But he also knows that to everyone else, the stranger’s reluctance to take this most useful test, as it eliminates the possibility of him being anything other than a Shifter or one of the bleeding types of Undead. Most Undead are slow to bleed, but many do still have blood, so he needs to make a small cut that is enough to draw blood from a human but not an Undead. If he doesn’t take this test, the people will probably see this as him evading a test that will prove he is a Screamer. The Barkeep knows this method and throwing objects test are the methods used by the guards that are supposed to greet any visitors coming into the town.

The young man takes out a pendant engraved with a 5-point star engraved on it. The symbol of the Angels. “I didn't expect such treatment from the Outer villages, but I wanted you all to know why I came here.”

The Barkeep groans. So that’s why he’s here. He’s come to convert the savage Outer Villages to the light of the Angels. He’s probably going to tell them that the reason they suffer so many attacks is because they lack faith or don’t worship the Screamers. He hates these people. He’s sure they mean well, but they’re just so condescending. They don’t understand what it’s like to fight Screamers. To live in constant terror. The Angels have left. It's a historical fact. This village might not have the libraries found in the cities, but he knows enough to have learned that the Screamers left thousands of years ago. The Priests no longer channel the Angelcraft miracles. Nor are there any immortal guardians remaining. While some may not have faith or believe that the Angels were ever around, he doesn’t see how believing that they ever existed would make a difference. Whether or not they existed before, they don’t exist anymore.

The young man begins to speak, to the annoyance of everyone in the room. “You are incredibly cautious when it comes to Screamers. In the city, I haven't met anyone as conscious as any of you. But the city is never attacked by Screamers. Do you know why that is?”

Grufult gets angry and yells, “Stop your Angel nonsense! We don’t want your faith. We’ve got more than enough to worry about trying to appease Angels that abandoned us thousands of years before we were born!”

The young man responds with, “You’re sort of right. But the Angels don’t keep the city safe. At least, not directly. They left behind barriers or wards that prevent Screamers from entering. One of your tests tried to replicate these wards but with no effect. The city wards are still working, though not as powerful as they were before, they still work because the misguided worship services practice ancient rituals to restore the wards.”

Angenter says, “You’re just trying to avoid the test. We need to see you bleed.”

“Have you ever heard of the five directions?” The young man says, “Angelward, Undeadward, Shifterward, Feyward, and Incorporealward. There are actually only four wards in those four directions, but the cartographers added ‘Angelward’ to the compass because of their obsession with the number ‘five.’ If we built these wards in the Outer Vill-”

“Sir, you need to either take the test, or leave.” The Barkeep says. “If you do take the test, however, you’ll still have to leave if you continue to try and convert us to your faith.”

“Convert you? But I’m not try-”

“No more talking until you’ve taken the test.”

The young man looks distraught. Then he steels himself and says, “none of your tests so far are very effective. Only the bleeding test has any worth, as you’ll soon see. But Cold Iron doesn’t exist. Ferrous rock is still just iron but with rock attached to it, and the fire simply removes the rock.” He picks up the iron knife. “Cold Iron is just propaganda to keep you from the real metal you should be using. This will be my gift to you. Use this very knife to test all future potential Screamers, and I promise you that it will never fall.” He unbuttons the buttons of his leather waistcoat, allowing the flaps to fall to his sides. Holding the knife in both hands, he stabs himself in the gut.

There is shouting throughout the bar. The Barkeep cries out, “You’re not supposed ot kill yourself!” Another voice calls out, “We only needed a little blood, you should have just pricked a finger.”

The young man pulls out the knife. It comes out clean, without blood. But even stranger, it comes out smoother than it went in. The roughly carved rocky iron knife comes out as an elegant silver dagger. The Screamer sigils are intricately engraved in the blade instead of unsteadily etched. And one of them is glowing a soft white. The 5-point star.

The young man drops the blade and rushes out the door. A group of men runs out after him, but he is gone. They hear the pounding of hooves in the distance, though they can’t see where he could be.

When the Barkeep later learned that the lookouts, the guards, had been sober and alert the entire time. None of them knew anyone had entered the village until they investigated the shouting from the bar.

The Barkeep took his newly silver blade, a fine dagger that was probably worth more than everything else in the village combined. It is said that silver is rare, not because of its scarcity but because of its uselessness. No one bothers to mine it. Weaker than steel, not as pretty as gold. It’s not even as workable as brass. There is no reason to use it. So he wonders about what the stranger had said. “There is no such thing as cold iron?” “It’s just propaganda?” He wonders just what he meant by that. And why would he use this knife for all future tests? Even if Cold iron doesn’t do anything, why would he bother changing the type of metal?

Trade with the other villages is slow but necessary. The Outer Villages need to stick together, even if it means that they’re merchants might become Screamers. He doesn’t envy their job. It is the most dangerous one. Running caravans between the villages. Having to draw blood every time you enter a city. It must be terrible.

The lookout denied his request that they use his silver knife for all tests from now on. They think silver is useless and Cold Iron would be better. They continue to use their Cold Iron knives. But what was that stranger? He was a Screamer for sure, but what type? He manipulated the elements and transformed iron into silver. That’s surely the work of Fey, right?

There is another possibility screaming in his mind. But a Fey could easily impersonate an Angel. Illusions to cause the Angel symbol to glow and conceal any light from the Fey symbol. If it was powerful enough to transmute metal, then it could easily pass the tests of salt. And as he said, the flaky syrup yarnstring barrier wasn’t a real method.

The silver could just be an illusion. But he thought even Fey wouldn’t be able to withstand Cold Iron. Could the stranger have been right about Cold Iron? Dare he trust a Screamer? The back of his mind keeps telling him that it’s an Angel. But he just can’t accept that. If it was an Angel why was it acting so dodgy? Why not reveal itself? There is no reason for an Angel to hide. They are unkillable, right?

Blyst has returned from another trade, though the trade failed and is the only one to return from his caravan. Obviously, everyone is a little worried that he might now be a Screamer. The lookout prepares for the full range of tests. Blyst says, “It’s been a really long journey and I haven't slept in a bed for weeks. Can’t we just skip to the only important tests. Drawing blood, and Cold iron?”

Due to how Blyst answered the first test, where you ask “Tell me plainly, are you a Screamer?” The Barkeep thinks she might be a Screamer. But he is worried. If Cold Iron didn’t reveal anything about the stranger, would it work on Blyst. Now the test doesn’t seem so sure. The only real check is for blood, but even that and the screamer sigils can be covered by illusions to make it appear as though blood draws forth.

The Barkeep walks up to Blyst and says, “I received this from a visitor recently. How much would you say it's worth?” It is unlikely that Blyst will accidentally cut himself on the blade, but this is the only way The Barkeep can think to test the properties of the silver dagger.

“Please don’t interrupt testing.” The lookout says to the Barkeep. But Blyst accepts the distraction and picks up the knife to get a better view for appraisal. He begins trembling, drops the knife, and falls to his knees. “Agh, what is that?” Blyst squeezes his eyes shut in pain and when he opens them again, his eyes are black with a yellow crescent around his pupil in each eye. His face grows fur and the hands become furred claws. The rest of the body is hidden in long-sleeved clothes. Blyst is a Werewildcat.

The lookout alerts the people while Blyst is bent over in pain. He is soon surrounded by armed villagers. “Is this Cold Iron?” Blyst asks. “I didn’t react to my Cold Iron knife, I thought that meant I was safe. It’s not fair. I wasn’t even going to hurt anyone.”

That was the day that the village known to Outer Villagers as Iron Gate because of their Cold Iron blood-letting test before anyone is allowed in the city became known as Silver Gate. It wasn’t even a full month after they learned the Screamer-identifying properties of silver that a massive horde of Screamers of all types attacked Silver Gate, killing everyone and taking a few bodies with them. Some of the missing people included the lookouts and the Barkeep.

Merchants from other villages that arrived shortly after the attack noted that the missing bodies of those few are strange, seeing as Screamers typically don’t eat the humans, just kill them. And the cooperation of multiple Screamer types is bizarre. Other villes soon discovered their records of transactions with Silver Gate missing or ripped to pieces. It soon became known that silver is a powerful tool but hated. Like  firearms, silver is now forbidden in the Outer Villages because it causes the Screamers to target you.

As soon as word spread that the inhabitants of Silver Gate had been destroyed, nearly everyone was racing towards Silver Gates to settle down there. It might seem strange to city-folk that Out village citizens so quickly fill in the gap of Silver Gate. But in the minds of the villagers, it was safer to be in the ruined village of Silver Gate than the populated villages. The Screamers would probably give Silver Gate a few years of breathing room to recover.

As long as the villagers don’t make themselves a threat by using firearms or silver, the Screamers should leave them be until they’re numbers are in line with the other villages. The first settlers to arrive saw smoke coming from the village while they were still far off. Getting closer, they noticed that the smoke had a fragrant smell, almost like herbal tea.

Once they got inside, they saw that the wooden buildings were in disrepair and slashed with claw marks. But a perfectly smooth long and wide squarish block of marble sat in the center of the village. It had burning candelabras and incense on it. Strange diagrams and carved figurines were laid on the marble platform. A map was staked to the marble and the navigational compass was laid on the map. They showed the layout of the cities where the rich and well-to-do live.

The map also detailed this village, Silver Gate. But the map of Silver Gate had a few oddities. There was a shrine in the middle of town. A stone obelisk that was surrounded by a miniature moat of water. Then there were curved lines surrounding the village. No one was quite sure what that meant.

On the back of the map were instructions to consistently keep the braziers burning incense and the candelabras alight. Suggestions of a pavilion or covering to keep the wind and rain  from extinguishing the fires was written as well.

Incantations and gestures were described and strange drawings were diagrammed. The settlers feared that witches had taken up residence in the ruined village of Silver Gate.

Ignoring the marble altar and witchery supplies, the villagers decided to rebuild the village except the center of the villages where the altar and witchcraft ritual supplies were. It was a few years later that they had their first Screamer attack. By then, many had long forgotten why the village was called Silver Gate, and some considered changing the name. The rumors considering the city being destroyed because the people there used silver seemed to be merely rumors and superstition.

Silver was no longer prohibited. It simply wasn’t brought because where would anyone even get access to silver? No one is going to go mining for it. And if they find silver in a mine, they’re not going to bother bringing it up. The only people that could possibly want it are city-folk who like shiny things, but none such people tend to visit the Outer Villages.

Some of the villagers have started calling the center of the village where the altar is, Witch’s Rock. And that name is starting to catch on as the name of the village instead of Silver Gate. But after the Screamer attack, everything changed.

Yuthol was the village leader. They didn’t have an actual hierarchy, but he was the one who took charge and people deferred to his decisions. It had been this way even before the Screamer attack. But after the Screamer came and killed sixteen of his citizens, he wondered if settling in Silver Gate was such a good idea. They hadn’t really repopulated the city. If Screamers start attacking once a month or even once every three months, they’ll die off and become extinct. He now needs to figure out how to divert attention from rebuilding the village and replanting farms to building defenses against Screamer attacks.

Then one morning, the lookout woke him up before the sun had even come up. This was one of the problems with being the De Facto leader of every part of the village. Everyone needs him to do anything. So he went out to see what the matter was. Smoke. Was the village on fire? The lookout pointed out that there was a man dressed entirely in leather, performing some sort of ritual at the Witch’s Rock. the person hadn’t responded to the lookout’s words, warnings and threats. So the lookout got scared and came to Yuthol.

Yuthol doesn’t know anything about witches. But he doesn’t know what else this person could be. If they’re performing strange rituals, then they must be a witch. He stands far off from the Witch’s Rock. Indeed, there is the person with his leather waistcoat. He almost looks like he is praying. He is chanting incantations and drawing patterns on parchment.

“Hey, what are you doing over there?” Yuthol calls out. The stranger doesn’t answer. Yuthol is scared but he decides to come closer. He orders the lookout that woke him to wake the rest of the guard. As Yuthol gets closer to the stranger he can see the patterns the stranger is drawing. Each pattern is a mixing of two Screamer symbols. One is a symbol that was born out of the combination of the symbol for Undead and the symbol for Angel. The second is Shifter and Angel. Yuthol notices that there are four drawings, and each is a symbol that is the combination of a Screamer symbol and the symbol for Angel.

The man holds a pendant against his head as he recites the words off some book he has. The pendant is the 5-pointed star of Angel. Yuthol thinks it is strange for a witch to carry such objects associated with Angels.

“I tried to protect the previous inhabitants.” The stranger says, “They didn’t listen. I told them they needed to establish the wards. They wou;dn’t. So I thought I could at least give them something to protect themselves with. That was foolish of me. They didn’t have enough for it to make a difference against an attack.

Here, I hoped I could try again. But I knew if I came to speak to you in person, you would all hate me like the others did. So I left these here for you to prepare on your own. But you didn’t know what to do. I guess I have to come in person to explain this to you. Now that you’re alone, that is. No one can interfere with your learning by means of their misunderstanding and prejudice.

Yuthol is really wishing he hadn’t told his lookout to leave him. But he won’t let himself show fear. Yuthol says, “Why are you here, witch?”

“There we go, I’ve only just met you and you already hate me. If you are so quick to judge me, then I don’t know if there is any hope for you to learn to protect yourself.”

“But why are you here?” Yuthol asks.

“I’m here to help, just like last time.” The stranger says, “I’m here to convince you to establish the Screamerwards that your compass is based on. There are some in the city, but you also need wards in the Outer Villages.

“Wards? But those were created by the Angels.” Yuthol says.

“Were they? Or did the Angels just teach the Priests how to make them? Let’s start. First, you need to channel the power of your people into the obelisk. Of course, the obelisk isn’t here yet. You’ll have to build that. Then using these rituals, you can use the power of the obelisk to produce a Screamerward.”

Yuthol finds the whole experience surreal. This stranger is convinced that he can reproduce the miracles of Angels with some strange Priestcraft rituals. Yuthol is absolutely certain that an Angel is required to produce these wards. So he says so, “The Screamerwards need Angels. You can’t build them without Angels.”

“Very good, that’s right. So we’re also going to need to build an Angel.”

That’s where the stranger’s blasphemy crossed the line. “You can’t build Angels.” Yuthol says.

“Why not? Is there a law against it?”

“It’s not possible. It’s not right. It’s blasphemy to try and recreate the divine.” Yuthol says.

“But the Angels are all just recreations anyway. They are the image of Myliss. You simply need to recreate them. Of course, the hardest part is finding a mold or model for you to clone, but I’ve already got that covered.”

Yuthol needs to stall for time while his guards wake up, so he continues to talk with the stranger. “How would we create an Angel?”

“You need to use a channeling ritual to store the excess energy of your souls into the obelisk which is carved with a mind to hold the energy. The obelisk then pours the energy into a mold of an Angel, and the outcome will be an Angel.”

Yuthol just nods his head, though he has no idea what the stranger is talking about.

The stranger continues talking. “I have the diagrams for the obelisk right here. This production of Angels is the same way that Angels made more of themselves.”

Yuthol actually realized that he had never considered how the Angels made more of themselves. They didn’t kill humans, so they didn’t convert humans into Angels. But they were also sort of Screamers, so they didn’t have the mortal function of reproduction. So to make more of themselves, they would have to magically clone themselves.

This doesn't help here though. Yuthol is still 100% sure that you can’t do anything that the stranger is talking about unless you already have an Angel.

“Well, it looks like you know what to do.” The stranger says. “I’ve left the instructions on the altar. I’ll be back when the Obelisk is ready.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Yuthol asks.

“Yes, this isn’t the only village that needs protection.”

The stranger leaves and the guard arrives soon afterwards. “You just missed him.” Yuthol says. “I’m sorry for having you all wake up for nothing. It seems he wasn’t a witch, just a lunatic. He kept talking about Screamerwards and creating Angels to protect the village.”

Yuthol couldn’t keep the idea from his mind, even as the days past and became weeks. He soon found himself intrigued. It could be witchcraft. But witchcraft doesn’t involve Angels. If he did perform some witchcraft, channeling the power of the Angels, it just wouldn’t work because the Angels aren’t around.

So he found himself investigating the instructions that the stranger had left behind. There was indeed a diagram of the obelisk and how to “carve a mind” into it. Engraving of a certain pattern of Screamer sigils that were meant to give it the ability to store and channel energy. He’s not quite sure he understands it correctly.

As he works on the project and even begins to produce the obelisk, the village people begin to whisper that he has lost his mind. The village still needs to be rebuilt and the threat of Screamer attacks looms heavy since the Screamers attacked a month ago.

Yuthol was still carving the obelisk when the stranger returned. “You’ve done enough.” The stranger says to him one day, Yuthol carves another Screamer sigil into the obelisk. “Yuthol, this is the hardest part. You need to convince everyone in the village to participate in the ritual. It’s a harmless ritual. It simply designates the obelisk as the storage container for the excess energy of their souls for as long as the brazier burns incense. It’s troublesome because if the braziers ever stop burning or run out of incense, the effect stops and the village needs to re-do the ritual to dedicate the obelisk. Meanwhile, a second equally important ritual that channels the energy of the obelisk into the mold I will place on a stand, must be running at the same time. If the candelabra is ever not burning at least one candle, the process stops and needs to be restarted, though the progress towards building the Angel won’t be lost, simply the ritual needs to be restarted, but it takes more than just relighting the candles to restart it.

While you don’t technically need everyone in the village, it would be faster if you could get everyone in this village and the other villages to participate in the ritual. They only need to be there for the dedication of the ritual where they place their hands upon the obelisk.

…

Ugh. I’m just going to skip to the last part.

…

The curtains came up, and there stood a person there. The person looked very confused. Of course it would be confused. It didn’t know where it was, or who it was. Imaaj, the young man in the leather waistcoat, talked to the Angel. Imaaj told the Angel about its job as guardian of the village and how it was created by the people and thus owed its life to the people. Of course, the people themselves were skeptical of this. So Imaaj took out one of the iron knives that the lookouts use for testing potential Screamers for bleeding. He stabbed the Angel in the heart with the knife, and it came out as an elegant sliver dagger. Then Imaaj walked to a particular person in the crowd and told them to hold the dagger and determine whether it was of real silver.

The person in the crowd refused to touch the dagger. Many other people also refused to touch it. It was terrifying to think that iron had turned to silver. Imaaj was upset at the people’s reluctance to touch the dagger. So he walked up to the Angel and facing the Angel, so no one else could see that he was speaking, he told the Angel to loudly proclaim an individual that Imaaj had described to the Angel, to be a Screamer. Then to go a step further and proclaim the Screamer to a Satyr of the Fey type.

The Angel did as he was told and said, “That man in the red hat and green apron is a Satyr of the Fey Screamer type.” Then Imaaj took the silver dagger and threw it at the Satyr. The silver dagger hit and cut the Satyr, causing him to lose his illusion and return to his Screamer form as half man-half goat.

Then all the people in the village knew that this new guardian Angel they made must be a true Angel. Imaaj instructed Yuthol on how to produce the Screamerwards. As long as the bonfires in each of the directions of the 4 violent Screamers remained lit and burning, the wards would prevent Screamers from entry without permission. Thus, only visitors that are granted access can enter. And if a Screamer attack does happen, then they know one of their own must be a Screamer to have granted access to so many.