As the group made their way down the stairs a small gust of morning air crept in through open windows and cracked doors. The sky, still a haze from the night before, smelled of seaweed and rain. The sounds of birds chirping replaced the usual chirping of the townsfolk and the crackling of carriage wheels against cobblestone. There was an ironic sort of peace about it all. The somber ambiance of a morning after tragedy was isolating in ways that almost felt morbidly comforting.

Talis Cleverfoot sat at the bar with both hands cupped around a mug as she chugged away at her beverage. The thickness of the concoction slithered down her throat with a lump. She looked bitterly at the cup for a few moments before letting loose a small grunt of annoyance. Her eyes met Mira's for an even fewer moments. Hearing her new associates the woman quickly stood from her seat to greet them. Her thin red hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and her ears were adorned with multiple rings near the tips.

She herself had been weary when Mikael insisted on bringing on some help. He was vague, and more elusive than what was usual- even for him. Still, she’d trust his word over most in Astoria. She looked to Mira again, this time giving her a quick smile. The barkeep returned the gesture before taking the city-elf’s cup.

"I'd ask you if you were Talis, but then what would the odds be of two different people having the same exact name and description? . . . Two beautiful city-born elvish sisters I suppose, or a doppelganger. Though I doubt either is the case here."

“Aye, you’ll find no doppelgangers here,” Talis answered the dwarf. Her voice was melancholic as if mournful lament laced every word. It carried with it a rhythmic accent that, by most accounts, would be a challenge to distinguish. The intonation hinted at Dalic origins, but her pronunciations and inflective tendencies were clearly reminiscent of an Astorian commoner. “I’m glad you could join us, dwarf; given your proclivity for sleeping through assassinations and the like. Unfortunate for the Viceroy...nasty bit of work it was, too.” Talis gave a small chuckle before running a finger across her throat. A dire playfulness etched about her face. She quickly realized her barb wasn’t met with any coherent response from the dwarf. “Right, well I trust your new associates will inform you of the details.” Talis paused for a moment eyeing the stairwell behind the dwarf. “Speaking of…,”she mused.

As the rest of the group begrudgingly strode down the steps Talis felt uneasy. This group of supposedly reliable employs looked drained, as if Faust had sucked the life from them, and some looked pale and disheveled. “Good morrow, I trust you all enjoyed the festival, assassinations aside?” She gave a smile to the group, but her jovial punches just didn’t seem to be hitting. Shrugging off the groups unpleasant demeanor she pulled from a satchel a map. She motioned for the rest of the group to work their way towards the bar.

“You lot look like hell. Heard at least two of you screaming all night, pleasant that,”

Falk, was right, they looked to be taken by Faust or his ilk. They were screaming in their sleep? What exactly was going on? Was this because of Cadby's death? That didn't make much sense... Pulling herself from her thoughts she concealed the grimace she felt creeping onto her face before continuing.

“Here’s a map of our lovely city. You’ll no doubt need it.” Her finger traced the thick papyrus as it trailed towards a visual representation of the docks. “Much of the guild will be down here keeping the peace,” she noted before sighing aloud.

“You’ve got a few options, here. Our top priority is finding Lord Caldwin von Gudeiur, the son of Earl Claudius von Gudeiur. He’d been inspecting the Viceroy’s financial ledgers as Earls are want to do. Mikael, and his son, are seeing to that personally.” Giving a dramatic huff Talis pulled from her person a key. “Second on the chopping block...sorry, poor choice of words, that,” the city elf quickly corrected. “Next, is the Viceroy’s office. It might offer up some insight as to what’s happened. Mikael has found it difficult to keep the guard captain’s nose out of things like this in the past. I’d be quick. If the sodded guards get involved we’ll likely never catch the killer in time.”

Talis’ hand extended to the middle of the map. “This is the Mercantile District. It’s filled with more merchants than you can shake your arse at. Don’t let that distract you. Evangeline Swiftrend, a big brooding hulk of a woman, has been praying at the Temple of Cristo. She is Caldwin’s royal protector so expect big shiny armor.. also, pointy ears like mine.”

“Then, you’ve got the guard’s barracks to the east of the marketplace. Cadby’s children have already been informed of their father’s untimely passing. Take it easy on them, ey?” Talis’ eyes peered out at the group before they quickly fell back to the map.

“Lastly, to the northwest of the city is the Academy of Magicks. If you speak to the embalmer he might be able to provide you with some details about the body before it’s given final rites.” With that Talis stepped back from the bar she’d been leaning on before looking towards the group. “I’ve no doubt Mikael chose the lot of you because you’re a capable sort. Not entirely sure why you’ve been given all the fun bits, but if he trusts you with this then me bow is with you…” She paused for a moment feigning deep thought. “Well, me crossbow really.”

Barris, surprised by Talis’ information that the Viceroy was murdered, and taking a look at the various individuals in the room with him, was also perplexed that this was the job he was being asked to do. He doubted this was the case, unless the Talons had some prophets in their business, or were tipped off, he doubted they planned for the Viceroy to die and then for them to arrive at the right time to then investigate it.

Lucilia stroked her chin as a man with a beard would if he were in deep thought, wondering what exactly would be the best course of action in this situation. ”It would seem we have many things to investigate. Too many things for a single group of people. We’ll need to split up to cover more ground,” the noblewoman commented turning her head to the window before letting out a sigh. Splitting up was never a good idea, though perhaps she simply read too many books, not that mystery was a genre she cared much about.

The armored woman rose from her seat and looked over the group, "I will investigate the office, the last known location of when Caldwin and Cadby were together.” She turned and began walking towards the door, flourishing her cape as she had turned from the group. ”Anyone who wishes to accompany me may do so."

“Pardon the interjection my sweet lady, but you’d likely be best placed on a different duty.” Raux hadn’t taken the time to sat down. She rubbed at her neck with one hand, and even made a small gesture as if she was tugging on a collar. In the other, she held a mug of coffee. Perhaps not the best, but it did help relieve some of the stress. “You’re quite a loud person! Too loud in fact! With an ego of such magnitude to choke a dragon should they take a bite! You’ll not go unnoticed, sweetheart. Likely, with the lack of subtlety you’ll scare away our dear special interest." The brith took a long slurp from her tankard and placed it on a nearby table. "Mmm yesss yes, you’ll better be of service with a minstrel by your side. Perhaps looking for something else that can forward our cause.”

Noticing an exchange of glares between the motley crew Talis was quick to intrude. “Before any of you lot go off on your lonesome you’re gonna need this if you want anyone to give you information.” From her satchel Talis pulled out a small pouch. Pulling on the strings of the pouch with one hand the small container danced lazily in the palm of her other. Upon opening the bag the elf retrieved five leather badges. An emblem, taking shape of a golden sparrow, was emblazoned on its front. “These will get you access to a good amount of places in the city, but it might also make others wary of ye. Everyone loves to talk about things they hardly understand.” Talis eyed the group who all seemed to get on as well Orcs and magic. That is to say, not at all. The city elf threw one of the badges towards Lucilia, and placed the rest on the bar beside her. “Just don’t go mucking everythin’ up.”

Lucilia caught the badge and gave it a glare before she walked towards the exit of inn. In step with her associate Raux looked down to the Badges with a raised brow and took one for herself. “Right, cuz hoppin and flashin out association with a guild known for some shady practices is within our best interest of longevity and consequences.” The cat sighed as she slipped the badge into a pocket in her coat.

Barris was stupefied still when the Lady Wolfram just walked up and presumed to start walking on to business like it was next logical thing to do. Then again, he was also the one to have not met the others, he supposed, but even also assumed it was the Lady’s arrogant attitude again. He scratched his head and poured over the options in his head. He decided to get the easy move out of the way first.

“Well you can count me out for that one, your Ladyship. I wager the killer’s not there, and I already got my fill of stuffed shirts when I was younger, no need for me in the dearly departed Viceroy’s offices.”

As if to be contrarian Lucilia ignored the concerns of her allies. Having made up her mind it seemed impossible to stop her. She swiftly pushed out of the tavern giving not a word more on the matter. Barris raised his eyebrows at the Lady’s behaviour, but the Dwarf said nothing and just threw his hands up to lay them back on the table he sat by in exasperation.

Raux brushed off Lucilia's coldness. She looked to Barris with pursed lips. “Oh honey, oh baby! I am a minstrel! I could tell you tales straight up to your death bed if you dare bring such a curse upon yourself!”

Meanwhile, Falk eyed the bearded dwarf with a look of surprise. His offhand comments suggested noble, roots, though the dwarf didn’t strike the hunter as one with royal blood. Save for the case of Lady Wolfram, most nobles didn’t go gallivanting about in the service of strange companies; even her reasons were likely dubious. Falk couldn’t help but scoff at the cat’s remark however. The bard’s appearance alone was louder than the clocktower ringing midnight, and the same applied to her boisterous voice. Lady Wolfram certainly had a commanding presence, but in Falk’s experience, this was expected of nobles. Commoners like herself, bard or not, would be walking into a lion’s den as a particularly loud fawn should she try and waltz into the viceroy’s office. After receiving their badges, Wolfram stormed out altogether, leaving the rest still in their seats. Not wanting to be the last one loafing about, Falk took action and said, “I’m going to have a word with the embalmer. You, beardless dwarf. Follow me,” the hunter pointed a gloved hand to Gadria and stood up and strode off, giving a wave without turning back to his companions. The city’s guild was filled with strange wizards and mages, so Falk wouldn’t have too hard of a time blending in, but the company was welcome.

Aria had, as Falk had been doing, been sitting back and observing rather than trying to inject herself into the conversation. The domineering and clashing personalities of the stuck up Lady and the fearless alley cat made this exceptionally easy. She’d even managed to wander off to get a drink unnoticed while the two bickered/flirted and had been casually sipping at a weak cider (she didn’t trust city water) when the masked figure lurched to life and decided she was coming with him to look at a dead body. On the one hand it was very rude, on the other he pushed all of the right buttons to get her curiosity piqued. Feigning disinterest, partially because it was the opposite of what she was really feeling and partially because it was in Gadria’s MO, she responded to Falk with a simple:

“Eh, sure, why not”

Aria casually put down her mug, grabbed one of the badges and wandered out after Falk into the street beyond. She gave a casual wave back at the cat, elf and real dwarf as she left

“catch you all later”

Barris, who had been smirking as he listened to Raux, looked over at Falk and Aria leaving almost as briskly as the Lady, albeit not as impolitely. He gave a mock wave behind them as they went out.

“Yea, nice to know yea too, guys. Gods . . ."
There was a pause, Raux’s eyes shifted between the others as they got up to leave, with a sigh she slipped out of her chair and hitched both her longsword and gurdy to her waist before following them. “Though I got an idea. No fact is more straightforward than hearing it straight from the victims themselves.”

---

Lucilia was well on her way towards the Viceroy Estate. While it was still quite early in the day the fogs that lightly draped the morning streets seemed to give way. In the distance it seemed that many of the citizens were already back to work. Noticing this she sought out the pair patrolling guards stationed near the tavern. ”I need you to find a boy named Edwin Myer, he has a pot belly, brown eyes and brown hair. Bring him to the Viceroy’s office should you find him.”

The guards exchanged looks with one another for a moment. For an Earl's daughter without jurisdiction here Lucilia seemed intent on routinely barking out orders. Even still they knew better than to question a noble, and especially one that bore the wolf sigil upon their shield. "Yes, m'Lady," one of the guards spoke up. She needed nothing more for with that she was off to the office. Their names didn't matter nor their previous instructions. She wanted nothing more than find Caldwin or any evidence that pointed her on the right track, and what she wanted was all that mattered. Especially at a time as dire as this.

Back a ways towards the tavern, Falk and Aria found themselves readying to leave for the Academy of Mages.

Raux, was in pursuit. Slowly thinking to herself, the Brithian quickly rushed up to Falk’s side and gave him a tug on the shoulder. “Listen. That fiasco last night got me worried about our dear lordling. The foolish girl is likely gonna get herself in a situation that gets her killed. This might sound like an odd request, but think you can find someone at the mages guild with a ‘talent’ for speaking with the dead? Only way we’re gonna speed things up here.”

Falk had almost made his way out the tavern when the Brithian caught up. He quickly jerked away from her touch and spun around to face her, his posture less than friendly. The hunter relaxed after a moment though and heard what she had to say. “The academy doesn’t look too favorably on necromancy, but I’m sure I could find some snot-nosed student who dabbles in it,” he replied. “Good luck.” With that, Falk and Aria left the near-empty tavern as they parted ways with the brith who seemed determined to catch up with Lucilia.

---

. . . The only one left in the tavern besides Talis, Barris just watched Raux go last and chuckled while shaking his head, before standing up himself and grabbing his badge, he nodded to the elf.

“Nice crew we got here. Consider me on the case of that guard.”

Talis was trying her best to conceal her laughter as she leaned on the edge of the bar the shape of a small but sturdy dwarf brushing past her in mild annoyance. Mikael was typically quite diligent with selection his agents, but this crew of "heroes" seemed likely to murder each other before ever finding the murderer of the dear Viceroy. She looked to Mira who gave her a weak shrug in defeat.

The dwarf walked back upstairs towards his room, muttering to himself.

“Fuck this, I’m not going running asking about a murder with two pistols and my nightclothes on. Nobody wants to know each other? Fine, but Stone Mother damn me if I’m rushing to potential danger in my linen and not even half a brace.” . . .

After he’d changed into his gear, strapped on his other pistols, and threw on his red cloak, Barris made one last move to open his chest and select on a decently sized coin-purse. His chest had been specially designed to act his own portable safe, essentially, and all of the Dwarf’s most valuable possessions were within it. It was also where he stored the raw components for his gunpowder, tools, and any items or fetishes he held dear.

Counting out a suitable stack of silver coins of a dozen different currencies, no need to stick out too much with gold, and a couple choice gems in a sapphire and emerald, he tied the small pouch off and stuffed it in his pocket. He grimaced at the chest afterwards, though not financially dire, it had been quite a while since Barris had actually added to his coffers. He hated whenever that happened, he liked seeing his piles of quantifiable fortune grow bigger, not shrink. His last job was supposed to do that, but instead he was now several months out with no material wealth of any kind coming in. He was lucky in that the Talon Company was paying his expenses, he’d regret having to pay for all of this himself.

Looking over his shoulder at the door in a paranoid habit, he shut the lid on his chest, locking it with a key he kept on his person, and resetting the position of the patterns on it to a random configuration. Even if one were to steal his key and chest, they wouldn’t open it in a hurry.

Barris then briskly walked out of his room, but not before remembering to grab his new badge on the way out. He stuffed it under his cloak, no need to show it off unless he felt it’d be useful, and no need to stick out like a stiff prick.

Giving a casual salute to Mira on the way out, the dwarf gunslinger threw on his hood and entered the muddy streets of Ardent’s Fall as his unlikely companions had done earlier, and headed off towards the Mercantile District.

Several blocks and a few winding paths took him right to the heart of it.

The markets weren’t as busy as they normally were, especially considering that the festival was just last night. Still, Barris could hear a cacophony of sounds ranging from hammer meeting steel to the loud shouts of various merchants peddling their wares. There was many a whisper to be heard for the perceptive ear. If Barris wasn’t mistaken he’d swear he’d heard one of the merchants proclaim to have one of Viceroy Cadby’s ears for sale. Lucky for him the guard patrol seemed to be stretched rather thin.

Throughout the marketplace are smells both inviting and horrendous. The livestock paraded about the square via farmers looking to sell their produce wasn’t helping. There was a particular melancholy that hung over the morning air. There was a thin cloud of smoke that hugged that same air just above the marketplace. The smells of burning wood accompanying the fog. Most of the townspeople seem fearful, but most also seem determined to hide it. One woman in particular, with a paranoid look about her face, just seems to be sweeping a rug over and over again in front of her homely shop.

Looming over the marketplace like its protector is the Temple of Cristo. The church itself is rather imposing given its more humble surroundings. The greyed bricks are stained with age, but carry with them an elegance one might expect of a noble estate. Banners hung about the various walls that made up the temple. The blue and gold banners were adorned with a sigil in the shape of a sun pierced by a spear. Barris would recognize this symbol as representation of Cristo. Officially, the religion of the dwarves of Viguard was that of the Stone Testament, but practically many dwarves were converted to The Faith of the Ten by human missionaries in the earlier years of the Owl Age. Outside of the church you see a priest, dressed in modest robes, having a rather animated conversation with a woman clad in silver armor.

((Barris is too far away to make out any of their conversation. ))

Barris, spied the temple past the anxious stalls and shops, and who he assumed his mark was outside it, because how many other women in shining armour would there be at the same temple he was looking for? He’d have to make sure she was elf, he supposed.

But first thing’s first, while Barris kept his eye on the temple and who he likely suspected his mark to be, he idly walked around the various stalls, tapping his fingers against the pocket where his purse was, pretending to browse various wares or entrances to shops, but really the dwarf was looking for one of the other main stains of major cities, street urchins. He’d not been in Ardent’s Fall long, but if this city was like any other in the world, he was willing to bet that there were more than a few kids or individuals down on their luck and looking to make some quick cash, on charity or otherwise, and he was in the market looking for at least one of such individuals before getting to his formal business. What better place to look for urchins then beside religious temples, or in the most likely place in a city for people with cash to spend to be hanging around a market? Barris had the complete package here.

Looking again to the church, Barris can see a group of petty beggars assembled under a makeshift tent across the small road. They appear to be asking random passers-by for coin. There is an older man, along with a few children and a dog huddled underneath the tent. Their body language doesn’t imply any particular closeness, and the elder doesn’t seem to resemble the children in any remarkable fashion.

Barris’ gestures instead caught the attention of a nearby vendor. “Hello, fine sir,may the [Stone] Mother bless you,” the merchant started. His curly black hair was tinged with grey as was his goatee. He had a pudgy face, but one that was clearly, at one point in his life, quite handsome. He had a small gut, but was mildly fit considering. His robes were foreign, and his accent was Dalic. “Might I interest you in my fine treasures? Many a great secrets lie hidden within my inventory, that’s the Mocenigo guarantee,” the merchant gestured to behind him. The stockpile of barrels and containers was masked by the shadows of the tent.

Barris, coming to a stop as to not look too out of place, and because he enjoyed a little banter, chose to humour the Merchant Mocenigo for a moment, turning to formally face him and his stall after making sure his mark was still where he left her.

“You got half a minute, Master Moncengio, after all, you’ve got a whole bazaar of competitors all vying for my money and time. What do you have over all of them that would most interest me?”

The merchant’s grin grew wider with a puckish maliciousness. “I have honesty, and an assortment of weapons and armor that might actually keep you alive. You’ll forgive for my presumptuous nature, but I noticed your stride. I can tell that you’re a mine of the future. You needn’t waste your time on petty merchants that offer you bows and swords.”

“Crafted, by the infamous Mar Vladwell Branchstock of Gnomish fame, is a rather explosive weapon to suit your needs.” The merchant reaches into a small trunk, as if routine, and brandishes before Barris a rather intricately designed pistol. “Don’t let it’s pretty design deceive you. This dragoon firearm is enchanted with the hardiest of magics. Its silver bullets leave a pretty corpse, and halt the hordes of undead that plague the fogs of Vicelles.” The merchant gestured Barris closer. “I’ve heard the fogs have breached Riverrun, and threaten to bring with it the terrors of that wretched country, here,” Moncenigo warned with hushed whispers. He backed away returning to a rather delighted demeanor.

“Branchstock drew the schematics for this beast of a weapon after falling in love with the beautiful Gabriella Driskell. You’d be quite the lucky man to possess such a firearm. I’m sure the gnome wouldn’t look too kindly on you, but this transaction will be our little secret.”

Barris raised his eyebrows as the Merchant peddled his story, while it was certainly a good pitch and he found it uncanny how he’d have guessed to play to his distaste for the undead, Barris was still skeptical. He’d been out of the loop on the firearm manufacture for a while, much less on the news out of Vicelles, so for all he knew it could be bullshit . . . but there was a way he knew to prove if the firearm at least was genuine, his old master Chartwick had taught him so.

The dwarf extended his hand to Moncengio.

“If I may? A firearms enthusiast such as myself aught to least gauge the function as much appearance of this piece. I assure you, I won’t bring the guard on your head with actually firing it.”

“Of course, good sir. Just be mindful of fingerprints. My reputation for diligence keeps the coin steady.” The merchant carefully removed the firearm from its casing. The wood was slick, and gleamed slightly in the morning sun, the silver plating served as the weapon’s decorative statement. “Silver is more precious to a Vicellian woman than a rose,” the merchant said as if marveling at his own product.

In Barris’ hands the gun felt sleek, and while there was a heaviness to it it felt more lightweight than most contemporary models.

The dwarf gunslinger tested his aim with the pistol, mimicking his usual movement for drawing and moving with it in his hand in slight motions, using the opportunity to turn and check on the temple entrance, after which he’d check the side of the gun for any kind of marks of identification. For Gnomes, like all proud craftsmen, loved to print their marks on their works of art. Whether singularly from Masters, or merely their Union marks, he knew enough to know that either a very clever forgery or the real deal would have one or the other upon it.

While there was no such branding on the weapon perhaps the more dire observation that Barris had made was that the woman was no longer standing at the Temple entrance. Instead, it was only the priest from before. Even from the distance Barris could read the discomfort on the priest’s face. One arm extended outward past the marketplace for a moment before the priest withdrew it in defeat.

“Oh,” the merchant fumbled. “I assume you’re looking for the brand of authenticity,” the merchant sighed to himself, not it nervousness, but rather in defeat. “I..have an explanation for that.” No doubt the story he’d meant to tell was long.

Barris sighed, he would have swore openly if he wasn’t trying to be a bit more subtle. He carefully placed the pistol back on the counter.

“Unfortunately I don’t have time for that at the moment. But hang on to that thought til later, I might stop back on my way when I actually have some. Hopefully it’ll be bereft of needless exaggeration too. Until later, perhaps, Master Moncengio.”

With that, the dwarf briskly walked away from the stall, not listening to anything else the merchant might say, straight for the Temple.

Lucilia manages, easily enough, to find her way towards the Viceroy’s office. The guards clearly weren’t gentle in removing the body from the balcony, and the need for a key was nulled by the fact that the door was completely swung open. Immediately what catches your eye is the disorder of the room. It was as if Ardent herself rained her fury down upon the furniture. Book knocked from their bookshelves, blood stains on the carpets, pillows and candles strewn about.

Or rather what does Lucilia want to check first. The picture above is the exact layout of the room

Blood, that was the first thing her eyes noticed about the room, not the destruction that was scattered everywhere though the signs of a struggle was definitely worth note. Lucilia looked for the biggest pool of blood she could find before crouching next to it and looking it over, it was at the bookcase of all places and the most likely spot where the Cadby had been bled dry before her killer likely hanged him on display. With all the blood, she began to look for footprints, anything that could be similar to a trail in any way.

”Hmm, down the rabbit hole we go,” Lucilia sighed as her eyes began to scan the room for footprints. Nothing, that meant whoever did this wasn’t a reckless peasant or beast. It was likely a planned assault then, or so Lucilia thought as she inspected the room, but Cadby put up a bit of a fight it seemed. He was a large man after all.

With that clue tested, she moved on to the desk of the late Viceroy, looking any documentation that was strewn about it. Perhaps something in the document could point her in the right direction. The battle definitely didn’t take place near the desk, no blood or struggle, stranger and stranger as the best time to strike would be when your opponent is distracted. Lucilia sat down and gazed over the ledger, studying the ledger and the businesses on it, some were very profitable and others were not but all had a debtor and a creditor. It was all so very strange but at the same time, Ardent Falls was taking on new economic ties, in particular the prisoners that it had been importing.

Off course she found the Miner’s Prison easily, but the creditor was none other than Mikael and others pointed to Talon Company in general. Though the two that intrigued her the most would be the ones that were scribbled out profusely though she did find an unhelpful S under the creditor section, if she would know what was under that she could know more about the city in general. Though that was not why she was here, with a sigh she forced herself to put down the ledger and went back to the investigation. Perhaps some of his personal letters could provided some insight, and so she began to search the desk for any personal documentation, but locked drawers.

“Viceroy Cadby…” an all too familiar Brithian’s voice sounded off. It took her some time to completely turn around from following Falk, to make it here. But she sat in the doorway, overlooking the work of beauty to some soldiers with a detached expression. “Was a warrior at heart. Someone I could respect. He fought, he bleed, and he roared… but in the end he died a warrior on his feet…” the cat sighed. Her eyes flicked to the large pool of blood on the ground, and slowly scanned the floor for more subtle details. She sniffed. Her brows furrowed as she sniffed once more, this time drawing in a longer breath with her jaws cracked open. Her tongue flicked out to taste the air as she stepped further into the room. “I came to make sure you weren’t going to get yourself in trouble again. Looks like I’ve found something you didn’t pick up.”

Lucilia’s eyes went for the corners of her view the moment she heard the Brithian, it seemed she wouldn’t be able to do this in peace and quiet after all. Then she heard the sniff and comment. ”It seems the gods have sent a glorified bloodhound to me. A chatty one, but one that can indeed pick up things I can’t,” Lucilia commented, standing from her chair and turning towards the bard.

“I think you’re just jealous that you’re only a wolf in name,” Raux rasped dryly as she closed her eyes and lifted her nose up higher. She drew in another breath, while slowly turning about, getting an idea of where it might be at its strongest. “Small family on a thread of disaster or salvation that hangs on the shoulders of a single lassy that hadn’t quite learned how the world works.”

”I beg your pardon?,” shifting her weight onto one side and crossing arms.

“Your father is like a fish. He’ll gladly keep eating till he pops. And it seems that has rubbed off on his daughter as well,” The cat chirpped as she stepped over the blood puddles to follow the scent. “He lusted for power, and he got it. But this small empire he’s building is built on pillars of sand, pillars of salt.”

Such words were insults to her ears, nay they were plagues and she was the plague doctor. Lucilia unsheathed her rapier and pointed it at the wretched cat. ”I would watch your words, cat. The Wolfram house is strong and has been around longer than whatever crumbling place you came from. You talk of my house being built on sand, I would take a look at your own failing kingdoms before saying such things.”

The cat raised a brow at this gesture, her eyes sparkled with a hint of humor as she offered a grin. She shook her head and turned her back on the blade and stepped out of the room. “Sweety, my existence is built around humbling people. Who else should the lady of the house with a stick up her arse take advice from, than someone who has witnessed and tasted failure?”

The noblewoman let out a light groan, ”We have a job to do. No more ‘humbling’ talk, cat.” The woman went back to testing the drawers, seeing if any of them would open, while she could force them open, she didn’t want to put forth effort into doing so unless she had to. Unsurprisingly, the drawer that did open had alcohol in it.

“No no~ The humbling shall continue! Now! Is this the first time a pampered poof like you been on your own? You smell as if you’ve not been bathing properly,” The cat gave a wink and a grin, “Did you plan on commanding me to scrub your back later?” It was a half hearted insult, but judging by the look of the cat’s face… she seemed to be saying it was coming from the noble.

Lucilia blushed at the comment, the nerve of that cat was going to get her flayed in public, but she had to admire her ability to continue on in the presence of an intimidating force like Lucilia herself. For once, she was also speechless as how to respond to such a statement but blurting something out would likely just add fuel to the fire. Instead, Lucilia forced the top drawer open, using nothing but her brute strength and gaze inside. She found a work of prose, continuing with the other drawers were nothing of interest though the persistent letters of interest of Cadby’s daughter was intriguing.

Raux slowly steps back into the room, giving the blood pool a wide berth before pinching the woman by the collar and giving her a quick and hard tug. With her other hand, she gestured down to her cloak, where the smell was coming from. A strange blue powder just on the bottom of her cloak. The cat’s eyes then slowly trailed down to the carpet, quickly picking up a tiny source of this small substance lying on the carpet.

Upon being pinched, Lucilia let out a petrified squeak and jumping to the side out of pure fear. She looked at Raux with terror clear in her eyes before she realized what she had just done in front of the commoner. The noblewoman cleared her throat and her normal look came back to her face as she saw the cat gesturing to the ground behind her. Lucilia looked back up and saw the cat holding a blue powder. With a raised eyebrow, Lucilia managed to get out a question, ”What is that?”

If the cat-like brithian found the Noble woman’s outcry humorous, she did not show it. Instead, she stared at her for the better part of a few seconds. And for a brief moment, the cat’s eyes flashed with sympathy as she turned away. Raux lifted an empty envelope from the letter and knelt down. She drew her dagger from above her tail and used it to gently scoop the substance from the carpet and deposit into the paper container. “Don’t know. But… it’s proof enough that this ain’t no premeditated murder from some jack on the street with a knife. I got a feeling that the company is not telling us ‘everything’.” The brithian drawled as she now returned to the desk to seal the envelope with some wax. “Suppose Barris might be able to tell us what this is…” she murmured softly. She stared at the table for almost a minute. There was a brief memory about history and the culture that humans had. It was about castles and their militarized nature as defencive structures. Some of the designs of castles were later implemented into noble homes as decoration, losing the functionality. But other things did remain constant, especially in older homes. She then turned back to look to Lucillia.

She held out a finger, and wagged it a bit as she collected her thoughts. “You were summoned by Viceroy Cadby. And the pedestrians were ready to lynch you. When you left… how long was it before the first cry of murder took to the air?”

It has been maybe twenty or so minutes when I had left Caldwin and Ser Cadby. They wanted to discuss finances and I had to leave. My best guess it could have been the errand boy, Edwin,” Lucilia explained, rising to her full height, which was probably still shorter than the cat. She eyes the envelope that Raux stored the powder in before turning away and walking towards the balcony to investigate that. ”Also, good find, Raux, perhaps you may have more uses than I’m let on to believe.”

The cat grinned as she slipped the envelope into her coat’s pocket. She followed the other to the balcony and looked out into the city, her eyes looking to where the whole crowd had gathered. “Aaaaaahhh so the lady with the wolfish snarl can compliment every now and then? As much as it’d make me want to purr, I’d suggest holding onto it for now. Afterall, I am just a simple minstrel! Martially, I’d be mediocre~.”

There was a pause as her smile faded. Now she wore a pensive expression, one that seemed unusual on her. “Five minutes tops. Cadby was a feared man in action. He was a skilled fighter. Between equally skilled fighters, it’d take around five minutes for that fight to be over with. Two minimum if he was out numbered, inebriated, or without a weapon. Another seven minutes to secure the noose quickly and throw his body over. Probably ten if they did not tie the rope beforehand. And that is assuming they were prepared,” She drawled out slowly. “They had less than ten minutes to get out and disappear. That is one hell of a feat to pull. There’s four possibilities. Magic was involved, the guards were paid off or killed because they had no time to clean up and needed to rush out, the murderers were members of the staff, or there’s a hidden emergency exit.”

Her eyes looked back to Lucilia, “Did you ever see the other’s hands? Did they looked marred and callused?”

Lucilia was more than taken back by the cat’s questions, having not a clue as to what she was supposed to be getting at. With a confused looked, the noblewoman inquired, “I beg your pardon?” Whatever Raux was suggesting, she did not know.

“Someone’s hands tells a lot about what they do. Roughed up, ruined nails, calluses, scars… they’re all clues to the life they lead,” The cat hummed softly. She then looked back to the noble. “Well… shall we look to see if there’s a hidden passageway?”

Still confused, Lucilia attempted to shrug off what the cat was referring to. ”Go ahead and try to find one without me, I’m going to look over the balcony for a moment,” Lucilia said as she began to investigate anything that might be of use at the place where Cadby had been hanged on display. The balcony wood was stretched and splintered from Cadby’s weight. Lucilia could see spots of blood dotting the floor of the balcony, but as with the desk area, a small amount given the amount of blood near the bookcase.

Raux slowly sauntered through the office foyer, gently rapping at the walls with her knuckles to test for any unusual areas. But… it seemed that was not necessary as there was a door that seemed to fall out of notice initially. She pursed her lips, and approached. She tried the nob, and pursed her lips when she found it unlocked. Gently, she pushed it open and stepped inside. Her eyes glanced over the various gifts, but the one that immediately stood out was a couch. A ragged couch fit for a beggar. It made no sense on why it was in this house, only that it was out of place and quite perplexing. She quietly stepped closer and ran a finger along the cushion to test for dust. Regardless of the condition though she hopped over the back and dropped down into the cushions with a low sigh. It’d do her well to take a breather for a moment, and to contemplate everything.

Though, landing on something hard and forgiving could also hold the opposite of that effect. She let out a startle and pained snarl when a pain shot up her backside. The cat rolled out of the couch and failed to the ground with a hiss of a groan. She rubbed at her tail bone and staggered to her feet to give the couch one final look. She felt around for a moment to find whatever the hell it was she landed on.

She soon hefted up an empty bottle of wine and dropped it without a thought. She rubbed her brow before catching sight of the letter. With a huff, she pulled it free and took a moment to read it. Her brow slowly quirked the further down she had gotten.



Once finished she slipped the letter into her coat pocket, “Cadby, what have you been getting yourself into,” Raux grumbled lowly. She looked the couch over once more… and heaved out an annoyed grunt. “Who would have thought I’d live to see the day I get to gut a couch,” she mumbled to herself. With her dagger drawn, she went to work at ransacking the poor sofa. The result... ended in nothing more than a few gold coins that fell into the cushions some years ago. At least her efforts were made worth while when she returned to Lucilia.

-

Lucilia, on the other hand, heard the noises down the hall after watching guards drag someone badly beaten into the palace. She hoped it was not Edwin who was beaten, but her gut was wrenching for she knew it was. No, perhaps it could be that they managed to find the murder or an accomplice, anything other than the messenger boy that had escorted her the other day. The noblewoman moved to stand in the center of the room and await for the guards, knowing they were coming here for the voices only grew louder and louder. At this point she could hear their loud footsteps, each step made her heart ache.

The sounds of leather against steel, and beating footsteps fill the room. Edwin’s weak whimpers in protest are only made louder as the guards approach the Viceroy’s office. Lucilia’s fears were realized as the guards dragged in the poor boy. As they made it through the door the two guards combined strength was enough to launch Edwin forward and two his knees.

“Here’s the bloody traitor Lady Wolfram,” one of the guards proclaimed. His voice was filled with a poisonous disgust as he looked on at the messenger with a twisted face like with wrinkles and fury.

“Lady Wolfram? Of Redcliffe? I-I don’t understand.” Edwin called out frantically. His breathes were ragged and uneven, and he couldn’t bare to turn his gaze upward. Instead he looked down towards the carpet as if in deep prayer to the ten.

“We caught the little fucker tryin’ to leave the city,” the second guard protested. His hand laid ready on the hilt of his blade. He seemed eager to cut Edwin down.

“I-I am not a traitor! By the ten true I swear it!Oh Cristo, please, have mercy!” Superficial abrasions lined Edwin’s face. He dared look up to the noblewoman and brith in front of him.

Lucilia looked down upon the poor, beaten boy, seeing a lot of her in him in this exact moment. At least, it reminded her of when her father would beat he viciously to instill within her that she must continue on even if she was beaten, This having gone on years into her adulthood. For once in a long time, she looked upon someone with pity. Her gaze went to the guards and allowed herself a breath before speaking in her normal, commanding tone, ”Trying to leave the city?” Lucilia looked back upon the boy and growled, ”Is this true, Edwin?”

Edwin’s gaze fell back to the carpet. He mumbled softly to himself clearly too afraid to speak. “With Caldwin missing I suppose the crown has sent you to o-order my..” The boy could hardly finish the thought. “By Cristo, please, I beg your mercy my Lady. I would never betray Lord Cadby.” There was a crack laced with desperation and fear that cut through each of Edwin’s words. The boy was quite visibly crying. “I-I served him dutifully!”

Raux crouched down beside the boy with an unreadable expression in her eyes. He locked gazes with him for a moment, then allowed her gaze to fall down to the boys hands and arms. She… found absolutely nothing remarkable, and at the same time that was a bit odd. No calluses, his hands looked mostly smooth, and when it came to scars he only had them at his finger tips. Most likely an errand boy. Either he chewed his fingers as a nervous tick, or he cut his fingers often by tearing open letters. But then… her eyes darkened when she noticed the abraishens on his wrist. Light in some places, red and angry where they appeared to loop over each other.

“Boy… where did you get that rash on your wrist?” She asked, picking up a small discrepancy to the story.

Stammering Edwin picked his head back up. “Gods, I don’t know!” The boy was excitable no doubt fueled by a desire to live. “I’ve told my story to the guard captain over and over, but each time his fists and rage are his response. I am innocent, this I swear to Cristo and the nine!” There was a weakness in his grasp as Raux observed his hands. His hands trembled with uncertainty.

”But an innocent man would not try to leave the city. Especially one who was constantly close to the Viceroy.” Lucilia commented, crossing her arms as Raux made her inspection. With an annoyed tone she continued to press into the nervous boy, ”Where were you after I had left Cadby and Caldwin’s company? Her eyes bore into the boy like two burning beams, scanning him over and over in a calculating manner.

“My Lady? I hadn’t even known you were in Ardent’s Fall!” The boy gently pulled his hand away from the brith.

Raux closely watched the hand and frowned. The boy was hysterical, like she was after her own multi-month long torment. They won’t be able to get anything beyond damning out of him in this state. And then these guards. The boy probably either forgot he had been tied up, or the guards had strung him up and beaten him senseless before dragging him here. She shook her head and stood up. She pulled her Gurdy from her hip, and held it gingerly in both arms. She spun about and dropped down into a nearby chair. “Well… I suppose I’ll leave the questions to you deary, let me know if you need anything,” the minstrel chirped as she began to crank the instrument, filling the air with a low but pleasant droning sound.

Like when she sang that shanty, the air seemingly grew quiet. All background sounds that were just pointless nose faded into oblivion as the instrument over them all. A few moments later, she clacked at the instrument’s keys, filling the room with a mesmerizing chord and harmony of alternating notes. It was [b]FASCINATING/b] how she handled the instrument so skillfully. And did it handle it all. The woody drum notes it made when the flap was lifted and clapped back down to the frame. The subtle buzzing with just the brief but quickest change of the speed she cranked the instrument’s wheel. It was a beautiful song, and a peaceful one.

”What? But you escorted me to this very room last night at Viceroy Cadby’s orders! Do you take me for a fool, boy?!,” Lucilia snarled taking a step towards Edwin, restraining herself from drawing her rapier. This wasn’t right, she knew the boy was the same one from when she had come here, but such a nervous boy wouldn’t lie for no reason. It was obvious that he had already caved under the pressure, nothing was as it seemed.
Perhaps there could be darker forces at work if Edwin didn’t remember escorting her when there were many witnesses to attest that he had indeed been escorting her. She calmed her tone and pressed on, ”What do you remember from yesterday? Has anything strange happened to you at all?”

“No--no, that cannot be my Lady,” Edwin said as he looked to the noble before him. Before he could elucidate further he felt the sounds of Raux’s instrument putting him in a strange sort of ease. He looked to the brith, now, as if more lost in thought than before.

The guards behind Edwin lowered there weapons slightly as they too found themselves enraptured by the harmonic sounds come from the hurdy gurdy.

With a confused look Lucilia looked back at the bard as well.

Raux smiled, and turned her gaze to Lucilia to give her a wink, not once stopping her song. “I did say hold off on the compliments my dear,” Her gaze turned back to the two, like she was about to have a normal conversation. Though not quite. When she spoke, her words seemed to echo off of nothing, and pried gently on the minds of those whom have been enthralled by her performance. “Do not touch them, do not shake them. Now then, with this brief moment to talk to ourselves without them knowing. You would not have gotten much out of the boy in his previous state. He’s hysterical. His memory would be altered by his own emotions if not some other force, or if someone had forced his lips tight. The lad’s also been strung up, no doubt don’t remember it with his heart thundering like a stormin wardrum.”

”You grow more useful by the minute,” Lucilia commented on Raux’s performance before her gaze switched back the entranced ones. ”What now?,” she inquired as she tapped her armor, wondering what exactly to do.

“Now,” The bard echoed as she licked her lips. “Now, I make them want to lick the souls of your boots, love…” she stated as if it was an off thought. She cleared her throat and turned to the three. She still continued to play her song. This time, her voice grew more dominant, those gentle tugs turned more forceful. “Before you stands Lady Lucilia Von Wolfram, heiress of the Wolfram estates, and bound maiden of its property. For now that your lord is dead, she stands as your lord and highest charge, and you will remember your honor when you answer her questions. You’ll answer every question of hers truthfully and in detail. Should your memory prove to be unreliable, you simply say so.”

With that done, she watched as their attention turned towards the noble woman. She gave her a polite nod, letting her song finally die with the suggestion now in effect.

“I will answer honestly, by the ten.” Edwin’s voice lacked the nervous ticks it usually carried, and nearly all of the rising anxiety that weighed on his chest like an anchor seemed to fade now replaced with a serene curiosity.

”Good. Now, I want you to tell me, do you remember escorting me here?,” Lucilia asked, wanting to reaffirm the answer just in case it was his memory that was clouding the answers that he had previously given. It was a simple yes or no question, but she felt that if she did not know then she might not be able to properly make a judgement as to what needs to happen in this situation. Even more so, if Edwin spoke truth in that he could not remember then there would be much bigger problems than the death of a noble. If there was a rogue magician in the city then that means the very fabric of earth they sat in could be compromised.

“There are two things in this world that I never forget my Lady. My formalities, and the nobles I’ve come to know. This is the first time I’ve ever laid eyes on you, my liege.” Edwin wiped a bit of blood from an open cut on his cheek. His pupils were dilated, a common trait of those under the effects of a bard’s magic.

”I see. Has anything strange happened to you the other day? Perhaps you felt as if you were not in control of yourself or you met some stranger who said strange things,” Lucilia continued to inquire as she listened to the boy and his side of the story. It seemed Raux’s music was making this far easier than it would have been had she been by herself. Though, it would be a lie to say she didn’t want to do some good ole torture to get information.

“I-” the boy stammered. A fault in the brith bard’s magic even if only for a moment. “I’d been quite sauced my Lady, last night, at the festival. I spent my night at The Prim and Pricked. Some of the loveliest women there, my Lady.”

“He’s not wrong about that one,” Raux commented after drawing the corners ofher lips back and giving a nod of approval. Both guards looked to Raux, and then each other. They nodded in agreement.

The boy continued his rambling like a madman without sense or a child without comprehension. He looked over to Raux with a hellish smile, and a look of Armond in his eyes. “They can do quite impressive things, my Lady.”

Lucilia blushes for a moment, not used this speak whores and their occupation in the slightest though her father would hire the occasional one. ”Is there anyone who can vouch for you?,” she asked quickly as she turned her head away from everyone in general.

“Elize, the dark rose, my Lady. She hails from Le Feu Mot. She’s quite well endowed, as if sculpted by Reias herself.” The messenger looked to the noble woman. “There is one thing,” he said as his wide eyes, still in a daze, looked to Lucilia. “It haunts my thoughts. I’d consumed quite more alcohol than I can normally manage, but I’d swear on the Gods that I saw a man wearing my shadow, and speaking whispers to me, with my own voice!” The boy’s voice raised in a half-hearted excitement.

“I only remember Elize, and those whispers, my Lady. The next thing I know I was being pulled off of a horse by the city guard near the southern gates.”

At first upon hearing how well-endowed this Elize was, she grew very self-conscious and looked down at her breastplate for a moment. She wasn’t as big as most other were and no doubt that her size and attitude was what drove many potential suitors away. Then, the words of whispers reached her ears and her eyes grew wide as she looked down upon Edwin with a flabbergasted look. She looked back Raux before speaking in a worried tone ”We are all in grave danger. A sorcerer of some form has infiltrated the city.” Lucilia looked to the guards, ”And what of you two, any hearing of these whispers?”

The older guard of the two straightened his posture. “Nothing of the sort. We leave magic to the academy. Most public use is outlawed.”

Lucilia looked down and thought to herself, this sorcerer was an illusive one, probably one that prayed on those of the more intimidated kind. Yet, her mind couldn’t help but go back to the extremely lucid memory that she had last night, and Falk said at least two of them screamed last night. While Lucilia was accustomed to nightmares at times, never had she experienced in as terrifying or as realistic as the scene that played out in her mind, and the voice…

”What did the whispers sound like?

“They were like my own as if coming from my own mouth, but when it spoke to me my lips remained still.”

The noblewoman looked back at the cat and asked her a singular question, ”Did you have a nightmare last night?”

Not thinking on it much, Raux gave a brief nod. “Yeah. Strangest thing, it was. A sea of sand and horrors.”
”As did I… I needn’t anymore questions. You are all dismissed, I want Edwin guarded for the time being.”

Raux frowned and looked to the noble woman, “Aren’t you curious how or why Edwin was tied up? That rash on his arms are rope burns.”

”Would you mind telling us about that, boy?”

“T-those,” the boy let out an awkward chuckle chased by anxious breaths. The magic was slowly beginning to fade from the three before Lucilia and Raux. “Those, were from my night...at the brothel...with,” he stammered. “I’m sorry my Lady for disgracing your ears with such talk.”

As the magic slowly faded from the three the guards looked back down to Edwin. Their bitterness was alleviated by the spells the bard had weaved, but their faces still were contorted with a quiet anger.

Raux quickly sat up, both ears perked and alert. Oh she held wide eyes, and did they sparkle. “Those were from -your- night in da ole house of sin, lad? Hell, if I wasn’t busy I’d rush you to nearest hay myself to explore what your little mind can think of free of charge! Ten forbid such timidness from you!”

Edwin looked frantically from Raux to Lucilia unsure of what words might offend the noble in front of him. All he could utter was a bumbling, “Yes?” It made little sense, but then again most of the last two days made little sense. Edwin felt a wave of serendipitous fortune swell within him at both Luciia and Raux’s proposals.

“Good lad! Now do this cat a favor and keep your head on your shoulders till I get a moment to spare! And I’ll promise to have you singing as well as I during a show,” the brithian chimed in a musical lilt.

“Thank you, my Lady! Cristo shines on me today. “

Hearing the brith flirt with the boy and upon hearing about the boy’s… times, it could be compared that Lucilia’s face was about as red as an apple’s skin. Like a little girl, she covered her ears and simply walked to the nearest wall and let out an internal scream so loud that her vocal cords actually made a faint sound as she exhaled.

“Guarded, and fed flirtations from some brith tramp? Captain Asher won’t be happy about this, my Lady.” The elder guard spoke again. Frayed thin and greying hair poked out from beneath his leather helmet. His thick eyebrows were furrowed in disbelief as he looked on at the display. The younger guard remained quiet, but there was a sense of stoic rigidness in support of his superiors questioning.

Raux was a bit perplexed by human society’s double standards. Should a man sleep with whores or multiple women, he’s considered a man and has not broken any form of social conduct. But if a woman were to sleep with a whore, or man she’s a slut. How curious. But she shrugged off the insult and strolled up to Lucilia, a hand fishing into her coat for the letter she found earlier.

”He may be easier to guard if he is within a cell.” the lady squeaks from her place at the wall. ”Please go away so I don’t have to listen to any… more… make sure not to hurt him anymore.”

The two guards step forward as the two forcefully bring Edwin to his feet. Their roughness is met with modest whimpers from the boy.

She frowned once she heard the whimpers and looked over her shoulders to find the two guards practically manhandling the beaten boy that she intended on having fun with at a later point. She shook her head slowly with a frown.

The elder guard forces his hands behind his back before pushing him forward and out the door. The shove is nearly enough to knock Edwin off of his feet. The three slowly fade from view as does the shuffling of their steps as it disappears down the hall.

---

Barris approached the small beggar tent he had spotted built against the outside of the Temple as he left the main drag of the city marketplace. He dug his hand into his coin purse and withdrew a single piece of silver, one of High-Mist variety he thought at a glance and flipped it more casually than his mind would betray as he stopped in front of them. He addressed the old man sitting in the tent as he approached.

“Ser, you and your kids looking for a meal? I got an easy way to earn it.”

The older man is covered in dirt with rags where clothes should be. His hair was long, but completely missing on the crown of his head. His tanned skin from the summer sun was covered in wrinkles and aged scars. The two boys wore clothes that looked to be some abominable patch work from an assortment of worn clothes.

The younger of the two boys eyed Barris, one eye closed tightly to protect his gaze from the sun as he looked to the dwarf in front of him. He was young enough to still be shorter than Barris. “We aren’t his kids,” the younger boy protested as his meager little common folk accent shown through. The older boy, who looked to be his sibling, hushed him before pulling him back down to the pillows and ragged blankets they called home.

“Hush up, boy, ‘course you’s are!” As the elder spoke his decaying teeth creeped out from inside his mouth. He seemed far to tired either from age or the rising heat to stand for the dwarf. “The older one’ll be 5 gold pieces, and the little one 10.”

The older boy looked to the old man, an uncertain look etched onto his face. He looked to be no older than 12 years, and his hair was a sandy brown. His brown eyes studied the dwarf before him.

For the second time today Barris cocked his eyebrow. So THAT kind of business was alive and well in Ardent’s Fall, he made a mental note to think about that the next time one of his companions tried to argue why this Viceroy’s killer was so important to track down. But he shook his head as he closed his fist around the silver coin in his hand.

“No, no, ser. I’m not interested in that. I’m interested in them for another purpose.”

He looked down at the two boys who’d reacted to him with different responses.

“You two saw that big lady in shining armour just outside here? The She-elf talking up a storm to the Priest just a minute ago? Reckon you could find her for me? You don’t even need to approach her, just find her, find out where shes goes, and tell me. Think you two or anyone you know could do that?”

He glanced up at the old man.

“There’d be a fair reward in it for you all, and for nothing other than simple information.”

“The price stands,” the elder’s voice was hoarse and gruff as he interjected. These were his kids whether by blood or circumstance. After eyeing the dwarf he looked to the eldest boy. “Thomas, don’t just lay there like a whore in heat. Arse up, and do as the wee man says.”

With that the Thomas stood cautiously. “I, think I can do that mi’lord,” the boy let out a modest and meek reply to his newest client. “I heard that was Lady Evangeline! She’s a royal protector, I saw her heading towards the south of the city,” the boy’s eyes widened as he explained the woman’s status and location.

His younger brother stood up pushing his arms lazily into his brother’s gut. “I serve thee realm, with this breath, until mi last,” the younger boy belted out playfully. He extended his hand as if ready to do battle.

“Sit your arse down, Kevan, can’t ye see yer brother has work he’s needin’ to do.” The elder looked scornfully at the fantastical would-be-knight.

Barris smiled.

“A lord no longer, lads, sadly. Master Barris will do just fine.”

“Oh, a master ye say? That’ll be 20 gold pieces,” the man’s coy expression couldn’t hide the lustful greed that lay beneath it. He looked quite proud of himself.

Barris’s smile dropped as he looked back up at the old man with a more dour look.

“Raise that price one more time and I’ll see to it someone else will be paid more handsomely to make these poor boys orphans . . . or at least now having a father with broken legs . . . I’m a generous Dwarf, ser, but by the God who watches over this temple, do not think you can take advantage of it.”

He counted out 10 coins out his purse, unconcerned as to any expressions his captive audience may have just gotten, his palm was full of silver.

“That’s a start. Find me where she exactly is, and any other information you can, and you’ll get something even better.”

“I can do that Master Barris,” Thomas exclaimed before reaching down into a pile of dirty pillows and pulling out a small leather cap that was about the same quality of much of his belongings.

“Fine, ye damn, dwarf. Greedy little bastards.” You hear the elder man mutter racial pejoratives and curses to Faust under his breath. Patting the boy roughly on the backside the elder let out a cough before yelling the boy. “Be quick, boy. Ye haven’t eaten yet, and it looks like fish is on the table. Along with my damn ale. Now ‘git!” With the man’s shooing the boy was off. His small frame easily squeezed past the market which seemed to be picking up some speed.

As the boy faded from distance the homeless man looked towards the dwarf. “Viceroy dead, and all these little flies still cling ta’ their shitty little lives. Goes to show ya that there ain’t no one better than the next. A dead noble be just the same prick with nicer clothes. Astoria moves on.” The old man coughed again a wheeze following close behind it. “Ye got anybody digging your graves, little man?”

Barris watched Thomas run off and gently tossed the coins next to the old man.

“Nay, ser. I’d say I’d make my own, but then I’d have to be one of the undead, and I despise them as much as some of the living. In any case, you can settle for more than fish and shitty ale, young Thomas comes back, you lot stop by The Wrangled Drunkard, ask Mira if I’m not there, tell er Barris sent yea, and he’s paying for your meals. You’ll get the rest of your pay when he gives me what I want.”

“What a benevolent patron.” The old man’s spit hitting the ground like venom, and his bitter words serving an even harsher poison. “I suppose ye be wantin’ a thank ye, dwarf.” The man looked forward at the market, he shook the thought quickly. “Or perhaps just what ye paid for; whaddya want with that big bitch, anyway? Surely not to bed ‘er; gal like that would leave you deader than ‘ol Cadby,” the vagabond said as he let out a wicked hoot.

Barris smirked and shook his head with a chuckle.

“To answer both parts of your question, no I honestly don’t care what you think of me, or your thanks, or even your curses, you can despise me for all I care, so long as you do the job I ask and do it well, that’s all I want, and I’ll pay well for it. No different from many of the nobles around here who you’re familiar with, I suppose, though I’d like to think I’m asking for far less. As for the other part, heh, she’d hardly be the biggest woman I’ve ever bedded, laugh all you like at the thought. But I have business with her employer, actually, a Lord who’s made himself remarkably tricky to find lately. I wager she knows where he is.”

Before the elder can continue Barris feels a large weight attempting to push him against a wall. The sound of clanking metal armor, and the feeling of it’s oppressive sharpness push down on Barris. The force had come from a direction that seemed random, not exactly from the direction that Thomas had run off too.

“Where is he,” a femininely rugged voice demanded; its harsh baritone was enough to strike fear into the heart of the largest of armies. The weight was coming from a rather brutish elven woman. She was quite larger than most women, let alone elves, for her size. Shimmering short auburn hair glistened in the sun and betrayed her foreboding demeanor. “By Cristo, and the nine below him, speak dwarf.” The woman’s voice challenged Barris.

A few glances from the nearby townsfolk left the tension ever-rising. The scene would’ve been entirely silent if not for the laughter of the elder man looking on at the scene from his fortress of dirt and rags. “Looks like ye found her, little man.”

Evangeline’s gaze was one of piercing annoyance as she let her focus train onto the beggar for mere seconds before once again locking eyes with Barris. Given the disparity in their sizes the scene was quite uncomfortable.

A sheepish Thomas poked out from behind Evangeline with the eyes of a boy who had gotten himself in the marmalade jar again.

Barris, now with his back against the wall of the temple and looking around at the unexpected turn of events, swore under his breath this time, glaring over at the beggar at roughly the same time as Evangeline. How much bad luck could he get in one afternoon? He didn’t try to reach for any of guns, still tucked under his cloak, but decided to try and play this out.

“Evangeline, I presume? I intended to ask you the same question, but unfortunately you’ve not made me aware as to Who you are referring to. So, pray tell, by the same God whose temple we stand in the shadow of, illuminate me.”

The woman’s right hand tugged at the sword in its holster at her waist while the left hand attempted to hold the dwarf in place. “By the ten true do not test my patience.” The irony of her statement would’ve been lost on her if not for the wide-eyed glares of the crowd gathering around the two. Recognizing her callousness in dealing with the situation she adjusted herself before pushing off of the dwarf, though her sword was still at the ready.

“I think we both know to whom I refer,” staring at the dwarf she sighed to herself. “By the ten true gods I, Evangeline Swiftrend, am honorbound to Lord Caldwin von Gudeiur in both virtue and arms.” Despite her best efforts to remain stoic her voice cracked with a particularly biting sorrow. “If,” Her voice strained with an uneasy shaking. “If you’ve summoned me then you must know where he is.” Her anger had melted into what seemed almost a desperate plea as her green eyes studied the dwarf.

Barris, on his own part, furrowed his brow in confusion. After the elf-knight had let him go, he had readied to draw his pistols, but this threw him for a total loop. He glanced over at the crowd of onlookers, somewhat stunned before looking back at Evangeline.

“Wait . . . You mean, you don’t even know where he is? I was looking for you because I thought you would know. What kind of Lord leaves his sworn knight and protector and goes on his own, you know? That’s what I thought.”

Evangeline’s hand left the hilt of her blade in defeat. “In my foolish piety I spent the festival in prayer, here at the temple.” It was clear from her strained voice that Evangeline was holding back tears. “But, where are the bloody Gods now?” Regaining her composure she continued. Lord Caldwin assured me the city guards would suffice in escorting him to the estate. Cristo,” The woman’s body looked as if it was ready to crumble. Her youthful face looked tired and worn with grief. “I knew I’d erred by leaving him alone.” Her expression shifted slightly as if enlightened by a thought.

“But you seek out my Lord, as well? I must find him lest I fear he share the same fate as Viceroy Cadby. Is there anything in your search you’ve come across that might aid me in my search, please,” the woman’s demands had softened but still carried a fierce weight to them.

Barris’s heart melted a bit to see the knight in such despair. He hated seeing women upset, even if the moment previous he was prepared to shoot her. He shook his head sadly.

“You were my first lead, ser-knight, and I’m no closer to finding him than you seem to be. Though I will tell you my employers have a bunch of others looking for him besides me.”

The Dwarf reached into his cloak and showed the Knight his badge.

“Talon Company, we seek your Lord for similar reasons. Perhaps we might be able to mutually assist each other? I can suggest either returning with me to where we’re meeting and await the return of the others, or I can assist you in searching now until dusk, though I am honestly doubtful he’ll be so easy to find now with what limited information we have.”

The knight eyed him wearily, but her body and face gave indication that she could accept the dwarf’s proposal. “I suspected much the same,” there was a slight shift in her voice. It was more careful than before, and her eyes carried in them a sense of uneasiness. “I will accept your proposal, ser.” She paused for a moment. “ I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.” Barris could see the tears begging to part from the corners of the women’s lower lids. She fought them back as brave as any knight was expected to. She met his gaze with a half-hearted smile.

Very briefly, Barris checked in his coin purse again and pulled out the emerald he had placed within it, and tossed it over to the old beggar and Kevan before putting his purse away and walking over to Evangeline, carefully taking her right hand in the two of his in an attempt at a comforting gesture as he would start leading her away, the whole thing looking somewhat comical, but also sweet in its own way to onlookers.

“Come along them, Evangeline, we’ll go and try and sort this out. I hope a tavern doesn’t offend your sense of piety, nor the company of one such as I.”

“So long as Lord Caldwin is returned to my care such company would be my comfort.” Before the two can walk away Thomas tugs on the brown cape of Evangeline’s armor.

“Ye sure do love yer promises, don’t ye dwarf,” the old man slowly rose to his feet with the sounds of groaning and cracking bones following every movement. “Ain’t got no fancy titles, but ye can call me Thaddeus Greene...well just Greene be fine. ” The man’s wide-eyed look of excitement at the thought of a warm meal shifted quickly between Evangeline and Barris.

“C’mon boys, Master Barris and ‘is fancy friends promised us some juicy lamb bits!” At Greene’s command both Thomas and Kevan followed behind him whilst they chanted rowdily among themselves. The beggar and ‘his’ children followed closely behind the knight and the rogue.

Lucilia made her way to the next lead she’d had. The Prim and Pricked. It was only about six in the morn when the noble woman made her way towards the brothel. Considering the night before it was little surprise that the brothel was closed. The sounds of banter among a few women could be heard from outside. The establishment itself was rather innocuous, and without much inspection a foreigner might mistake it for a tavern. The only evidence to the contrary were the vibrant red curtains that shown through the windows. They were enough to obscure the chattering inside.

It came as relief to Lucilia to know that the whorehouse was closed, primarily for her own dignity’s sake. With an inhale of breath and a calming of her nerves, the Wolfram knocked on the door of the building, yet she did not announce herself as she did not want to draw any eyes to herself. To be seen going to a brothel would ruin her, rumors of her becoming an alleged whore would humiliate the family for all of eternity. The thought wracked her mind and she couldn’t help but look down to her armor and contemplate whether she looked like a man enough for any people walking outside to simply ignore her. The armored skirt didn’t do her justice, but she just had to hope.

The banter from within the brothel’s inner walls quickly ceased in response to Lucilia’s knocking. The shuffling of feet against carpet was the only replacement for noises inside. The door to the tavern slowly creaked open, and a woman reared her head out past the pink silk that hung from the doorway, no doubt as a means of welcoming haughty patrons.

The woman that opened the door was older, but not so much so that the lines about her face seemed particularly noticeable. The delicate wrinkles that danced about her face twisted as she frowned at the noble before her. Her dark brown hair was decorated with hints of gray at the root. Her eyes darker still pierced through Lucilia with some kind of apathetic fervor if ever there was such a thing.

“It’s always the bloody woman who knock,” the woman spoke passed Lucilia in a hushed and annoyed tone. “We’re closed, m”lady, I can assure you that your Lord isn’t with any of my girls.” The woman’s voice was soft, but carried with it a subtle venom. She had a bit of weight on her no doubt from a life of apparent luxury given the quality of the clothes she wore. She was adorned in a white robe with veils the color of lilies draped carefully from her shoulder like a sash. Her hair was done up in a loose fitting bun and loose wild hairs frayed out as if purposely chaotic.

”Watch your tongue, whore,” Lucilia spat, not wanting to hear this disrespect. She crossed her arms and explained herself, ”I am here to investigate a clue to Viceroy Cadby’s murder. I must speak with one of your associates. A Wolfram will not take no for an answer.” Her own tone was filled with annoyance as she responded to the older woman, a response in kind. She let a huff and uncrossed her arms as she looked away, embarrassment coming to her in a very subtle manner. ”I must speak with Elize, this is of utmost importance.”

The woman’s apathetic appearance quickly turned to one of anger before a subtly wicked smile painted her face. “I’m afraid there’s a first time for everything m’Lady,” the woman protested. She had pushed the door fully open at this point, and the elaborate decor left the sight of satin reds and pinks in view for all on the street to see. Unlike many in the city the women seemed firm in her stance unwavering in her distaste for the noble in front of her. She quickly motioned to slam the door in the Wolfram’s face.

Yet, the door was caught, caught by the hand of the very noblewoman who the peasant tried to keep out. Her eyes now shown as what could be comparable to a demon’s, no longer hindered by the thoughts of being ruined in reputation or dignity. Lucilia would not accept this blatant act of disrespect. With a swift motion, she tore the door away from the old woman’s hands and the whore quickly found herself with a clenched fist buried in her stomach. Lucilia had hit her with all the strength she could muster, using the opportunity to also push the woman back into the brothel before drawing her rapier and stepping in, slamming the door shut behind you.

”You have attempted to shut out Lucilia Von Wolfram, daughter and heiress to Lion Von Wolfram, such disrespect cannot go unpunished, whore. I should skewer you here and now, but I will spare your pitiful life of debauchery and sin if you get Elize, now,” Her rapier was pointed at the woman, daring her to try and tempt her with thrusting the blade. Her eyes went to scan the room of the other women, her eyes still filled to the brim with anger. ”Where is Elize?!” she commanded, pressing the edge of the rapier to the old sow’s throat.

The sudden outburst from the doorway startled most of the women inside of the brothel. Many of them rose from their seats, but a quick stare from their mistress backed them down. The proprietor turned her hardened gaze towards Lucilia.

“Do you think I care for you petty titles? When I’ve seen the red of every statemen’s ass from here to Cambridge,” her voice was strained. There was a fearful lament that while fragile was bitter and cold. The woman’s face was red either from shock or embarrassment from being brought to her back so quickly. Her gaze slowly turned from Lucilia to the rapier that threatened to pierce her.

“Do it, then. Show the city just the kind of killer you are Lady Wolfram, I’m sure the guards would be interested to see it!” She called out Lucilia’s name with a particular venom. “You think yourself above us,” the woman spat as she spoke. “I give these women a better life. They may whore themselves for money and pleasure, but what do you whore yourself out for, m’Lady? A repugnant man living in his repugnant tower?” Her eyes studied the weapon again before looking to Lucilia. There was a sharp silence that was louder than any tavern or crowd.

Stepping out from the shadows a delicate voice called out. It was a thick Penaultish accent. “Miss Praxilla, please…” Making claim to the voice was a rather curvaceous woman adorned in fabrics as delicate and soft as the ones that decorated the establishment. Her purple fabrics lined delicate caramel skin, and given her endowments it was quite clear to Lucillia who the woman was.

“I am Elize, my Lady,” the courtesan stepped forward towards Lucilia carefully as she motioned to try to ease the noble.

Lucilia was close to butchering the backtalker, the pressure to the woman’s through increasing as she spoke each word. However, Elize’s intervention brought her back to reality and the rapier came off the whore’s throat but still at the ready. ”Miss Elize? Good, we have important things to discuss. However, I’d like to speak in private, where I won’t have to speak to an old sow’s nagging. I am sure you can accommodate,” her voice was cold, cold enough to send shivers through the building itself. It was as if all anger had left her voice and had been replaced with a simple unnerving nothingness.

After a few moments, Lucilia sheathed her blade and stepped her boot onto the old woman and carried her other leg over her, effectively concentrating her weight on the woman’s stomach for a few seconds, as she walked to meet Elize who visibly flinched at the noble’s act of malice.

Elize fumbled for a moment at the sound of her mistress in pain. “O-of course, my Lady.” She motioned for the Wolfram to follow her as she made her way down an elongated corridor.

The sounds of shuffling could be heard from behind the two as the women that had looked on at the display rushed to Praxilla’s side.

The corridor was lined with a plethora of rooms on either side. The brothel seemed to be rather cleanly given its manner of business. The walls to the corridor were painted with an elaborate ornamentation. The design wasn’t recognizable as anything in particular but the painter took care in tirelessly detailing each flower that lined the abstract designs. Various pillows dotted the hall, tucked away neatly in corners for seating pleasure. The aroma of lilac and cinnamon seemed more native to Murcia than anywhere in Astoria.

Pulling a key from her sleeve Elize carefully unlocked a door on the left side on the far-end of the hallway. Elize pushed the door open motioning for the noble to enter first.

“This should afford us privacy,” Elize said.

”Please, after you. After the trouble I caused I wouldn’t be so quick to trust someone behind my back.”

“How mindless of me, of course.” Elize made her way into the room. Her long ebony hair was an elaborate mess of healthy curls as it danced with every sway. “You must forgive Miss Praxilla,” Elize noted taking a pause. She pursed her lips before letting out an nearly inaudible sigh. “We’d heard that Edwin Myer had been taken in by the guards. Given his enjoyment of my...services.” Before continuing the woman sat gently on the bed that sat in the middle of the room. It was close to the floor, and lined with numerous pillows. There were an inordinary number of dressers in the room, but the smells and purposefully sensual furnishings made the allure of the room easily apparent even for the prudish. “I’m afraid she’s been quite tense ever sense.” Her eyes studied Lucilia pleadingly. “She wishes only to protect us, my Lady. The disrespect you’ve been met with is inexcusable, but burden me with punishment if you deem it necessary.” The woman let out a breath.

”Please, as if I’d waste the energy on a punishment that I am willing to forget should I get the information I need,” Lucilia scoffed, crossing her arms and giving her standard pompous look. Though something noticeable was apparent in her body language, she wouldn’t directly look at Elize, for it made self-conscious that the men were right about the whore’s looks. ”Tell me, was Edwin acting out of the ordinary the other day when he was in you company?”

As she spoke, she began to move around the room, her boots clicking against the floor as she inspected the surfaces of the dressers for any powder that Raux had found. She may not have the sense of smell that the cat did but she did have a keen eye, especially now that she knew what to look out for. She picked up a vial with a strange, gelatinous liquid in it, ”What is this?”

The woman’s brown skin quickly gained a rosy hint as she eyed what Lucilia had picked up. “My...my Lady. That’s oil,” Elize said taking a careful pause. “For...ease of entry,” she continued trying her best to stifle the stirring of laughter in her gut.

Lucilia instantly set the vial back and shook her hand as if trying to shake free any dirt that cling to her, making a very audible sound of disgust. While Lucilia was intelligent in her own right, she was wholly oblivious to anything regarding a whores work, never taking a interest to it in the slightest. The noblewoman turned back to Elize and cleared her throat, an embarrassed red tinge clung to her face as she tried to mask it with her normal calm look. ”Please… Answer my first question.”

The Penaultish woman composed herself before settling into a thought. Thumbing at the jewel that rested at the top of her upper lip. “Edwin is usually quite out of the ordinary, but aside from our usual business I can’t say that he was acting strange in any way.”

”So he was telling the truth…” the noble muttered to herself and began pacing as she attempted to piece together the story in her head. ”Did anyone seem to be following the boy? Anyone look suspicious that day, anything inherently magical in nature?” Lucilia stopped in her track and looked at Elize directly in the eyes.

”He states that he saw someone just like him who spoke in whispers before he awoke to be dragged off his horse outside the city. While he is innocent, I must find the person who had done this for it was that same person who took me to the company of Ser Cadby. A man looking just like Edwin, but it was not at the same time.”

“Have you tried speaking with the Grand Maester at the Mage Academy? I’m not entirely familiar with magic, so I’m not sure I’d be of much help.” Though her accent marked her as a foreigner the woman seemed quite proficient in Astorian common perhaps even better than some locals.

“The shadows you speak of sound like Farrea herself. Had I seen such a sight I’d have reported it to Praxilla immediately. Is Edwin alright my Lady?” Elize looked toward Lucilia as her upper body motioned slightly away from the bed.

”The boy is fine, slightly beaten before being dragged to me, but still fine,” Lucilia confirmed, nodding her head as a sign of confirmation. However, then another question came to her mind, not one specific to the case but one curious enough to warrant investigation. ”Do you care for Edwin?”

“Edwin...is a sweet boy.” Elize looked away from Lucilia in that moment. She seemed to want to shy away from the topic.

Lucilia did not say another word more, instead turning away from the whore and walking towards the door. She stopped just in front of it before letting out a sigh, turning back to face Elize with a softer face, ”Do you enjoy the occupation you have? Allowing men to have their way with you as they see fit? Having nothing to your name other than being a well-endowed whore sounds like hell in my own personal opinion.” Her tone was light as her thoughts went to the past, remembering her powerlessness to protect someone she cared about. Her fear of allowing her father to control every aspect of her, in which he had succeeded.

She saw that same powerlessness in Elize, she would have nothing if she left this place, Lucilia could guess that. The noblewoman did not like that thought and so she awaited the whore’s answer with her eyes gazing into Elize’s own.

“My-my Lady? I’m not sure I understand…” Elize’s eyes trailed behind the noble’s movements and her defined brows furrowed in hesitation. “I...this is all I’ve ever known my Lady. I don’t come from this land. There is little choice in the matter.” She sighed before picking herself up off the bed.

”Then I would recommend learning a trade, other than… this,” Lucilia motioned to the room around her before she untied a small pounce from her side. Small movements made the pounce jingle, the sound of coin clinking together in a pleasant harmony to any. ”Find something that you want to do with you life and chase after it, do not accept defeat for that will mean your life will never progress in any way you want. I am not the wisest person, far from it, but I do know that if you let something control you, it will ruin you,” the noblewoman tossed the coin pouch to Elize, a pouch filled to the brim with only gold coins.

”Have a pleasant day, Miss Elize. May Cristo light your path, and hopefully we may meet under better circumstances and in better scenery,” With that Lucilia turned and left the room, not waiting for Elize to respond. Giving one last look at the head whore, Lucilia left the establishment in general and headed back to the inn.

When she managed to get back into her room, she changed out of her armor and into her more girlish attire, in a dress. She wrote down her findings, compiling everything into a report to be handed to the Mikeal when she had the chance.

Docks of Ardent's Fall

While the streets of Ardent’s Fall had been nearly barren the docks were filled with weary travelers seeking passage from the city. There was, after all, a murderer afoot. There was a pungent odor that seeped its way through the large swaths of people as almost none of the foreigners had gotten a chance to shower or sleep. Accompanying the smells of salt from sea and body were the sounds of grumbling, intense chatter, and fights breaking out throughout the port.

From what Lorelei could see there were lightly armored guards attending to the crowds, and questioning a number of would-be-passengers. The sting of summer sun did little to quell the anxiety and frustration permeating the crowd.

A wince came from her, a delicate hand lifting to brush the locks that cascaded down her back in waves similar to that of the sea when it was calm. The smell was.. Certainly extraordinary. She had recently heard of the murder, and how the murderer was still running amuck without an end in sight. She couldn’t help but be curious as to what exactly had happened.Eyes, pupils slightly dilated due to the approaching sun, would scan the surrounding area as she stepped through the crowd, trying to push her way opposite to the motion of the travelers who wanted to leave Ardent’s Fall. She, however, wanted to stay, and venture into the barren alleyways of the city.

Finally breaking through the crowd, she moved to step onto the cobblestone road when she was stopped by a guard, who glanced her over. She must’ve looked at least slightly suspicious; A beautiful woman intending to go into the city instead of leaving it. She was dressed normally, a common dress for women to wear of the time.

“There seem to be a problem?” She hummed, a sweet smile gracing her lips as her multi-colored gaze lifted to that of the guard, her arms moving behind her as her head tilted to the side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” He’d gruff in her direction, his eyes lazily making their way over her body, causing her to lightly shift backwards out of slight discomfort. “The alleys aren’t safe, especially for a little lady like you.”

She couldn’t help but give a slight laugh, a hand coming up to lightly mask the appearance of her mouth. “You think I’m afraid of some lil guy with a knife?” She easily side stepped, flashing that charming smile of hers again. It seemed to have an effect, for the guard would blink slightly and straighten, giving a nod.

“My apologies.” He’d simply say before turning away from her to tend to other citizens, questioning them and their actions instead, and leaving her alone. WIth a cheeky grin, she lazily strolled into the city, only a pack on her back carrying her belongings. Interesting.

The city was filled now mostly with only workers. Most sensible denizens were under lock and key. It wasn’t everyday an official of the crown was murdered. There was little worth noting in the alleyways of the Ardent. The only noises to be heard was the trickling of rainwater from last night running its way down cobblestone. Drops of the stuff found their way from the buildings of wood and brick.

The air was full of a thick musk scented like pine and river-water.The only other noises to accompany the ambiance of a city gripped in fear were the shambling and bustling of the homeless making their way about the alleys. Eyes studied the woman as she made her way through the back roads of the city. From the route she’d taken, shanties and shacks lined the alleyways. A hodgepodge of makeshift shops used cloth tents to protect the wares within from water damage.

Her simple maiden’s heels lightly clicked against the moistened cobblestone, her gaze flitting about as she ventured further and further into the city. Instead of taking the main road, she’d take a route that went through the back alleys, taking a look at all the makeshift shops that lined the edges, using whatever materials they could find in order to make their businesses somewhat presentable. It almost gave her a creepy vibe, due to the fact that she wasn’t used to such.. Poverty. It made her feel entitled, to have never experienced such things.

She felt eyes on her, and briefly felt worried. She’d grow tense, her hand going to the fashionable belt that was slung around curved hips, to the hilted blade that sat against the left hip bone. She kept her hand still for a little while longer, starting to come to the conclusion that this may have been a bad idea to take the back roads. Sticking to the main roads would’ve been.. Safer. Smarter, even.

“Not many-an-elf are brave enough to wander Dark Water, dearie.” A voice like ash and soot squealed out from the behind the siren. An older woman slumped over from age and labor eyed Lorelei. Weary eyes studied her foreign features. “Specially not with missing noble boys and dead Viceroy’s still warm to touch.”

She nearly jumped out of her damn skin when a voice that sounded like a burnt out fire itself would rasp behind her. She gripped the hilt of her dagger, but willed her hand to let go and release a low breath, expelling the fear that had briefly been thrown upon her. She turned around and gave a slight smile, a hand coming up and lightly brushing some of her hair back as she put on the charm.

“Is that where I am? Huh, I thought I was on the main road!” She played dumb rather well. “Missing boys and a murder? That sounds awful!” She feigned a gasp, a hand going to her mouth. “Is that why everyone is so insistent on leaving?”

“Me thinks you know the answer to that, pretty one. Never seen an elf with ears like yours.” The woman’s hands coveted the girls hair. Feeling through the wisps she took a breath, as if relieved, before lifting heavy lids. Her pupils were a hallowed grey as she studied the woman. Before Lorelei could reasonably respond the woman’s hand rested firmly over hers, and in turn the dagger she possessed. The woman whispered to the siren in hushed tones. “Don’t make a scene, girlie. I ain’t ye enemy.” She motioned Lorelei towards a sunken little crevice in the dilapidated marketplace.

She hesitated when the woman’s wrinkled and withered hands came out and touched her hair, causing her to stiffen as the elderly woman seemed to be searching for something. She didn’t even know what to say in that moment, for the elder was quite adamantly searching for something, yet seemed to be relieved when she found nothing. She felt her rough and boney hand touch hers that was gripping the hilt of her blade, and hush her to not be afraid, before being directed to a crevice.

She paused, not seeming like it was the greatest idea to go forth to such a sketchy place, but willed herself to be compliant. Giving a low sigh, she’d give a faint nod before stepping forward, towards the crevice. She glanced back for a moment before holding her breath and stepping through.

The elder woman looked about the wretched market. She reached into a chest full of leathers and cloths. Pulling out a thin black hooded cape from within she unfurled the fabric before making her way behind Lorelei. She threw the cape onto her. “Cape up,” she chided before making her way deeper into the marketplace. The cape itself smelled like it’d been locked away for ages, and the cape was thick with the smell of soil.

The staring that had just followed Lorelei were not as bountiful now. The two walked the beaten alleyways of the Dark Water District.

“What has ye wandering about our fair district elfey?” The woman’s gaze remained forward as the two marched on past the wailing of the sick and hungry.

Lorelei would blink in surprise as the stale-smelling fabric was thrown over her shoulders, the woman making sure it covered her before chiding her, much like a woman would do to their child, to put her hood up. Giving a faint frown, she did as she was told, bringing the hood of the worn cape up to rest on the top of head, concealing her features.

As they began to walk, she was somewhat relieved that the staring wasn’t so prominent now. The feeling of it had made her shiver, an icy feeling settling over her. Thank goodness for this.. Odd woman she just happened to run into.

“Originally? Because of the murder. I wanted to see if it was true, and I have a nasty habit of getting myself into things. I was going to try and help solve it,” She spoke in a hushed tone, her gaze turning towards the elderly woman’s. “Also, I’m no elf. Believe it or not, I’m a Siren.” She often got the confusion more often than she thought she would since leaving her home city, but it was alright. She did appear to look very similar to the elves that roamed the lands. She seemed a bit ahead of herself, Lorelei. Coming to a city she had never been to before to help aid in a murder that had nothing to do with her. It was the hunger for the information, mostly. The reasoning for the murder and the missing reports could prove valuable to nobles back at home.

“All the better that ye keep on that cape then, deerie. Me second cousin would skin those ears from your head if he knew.” There was a familiar sorrow in the elder’s voice upon hearing that Lorelei was a siren. Shaking the thought she turned to the girl giving a warm smile of gums and twisted -rancid- teeth.

“Ye can call me Grannie Smithers.” Smithers stopped in her tracks before extending her short and stubby arms out from beneath her cloak. Stretched out she looked back to Lorelei again.

Now, out of the sick stink of Dark Water, the only thing in view were the myriad of houses running down the street. Beyond that one could see the temple of Cristo that stood proudly in the marketplace. The swell of business as usual was accompanied by the squawking of birds, and sounds of hooves against cobblestone.

“Welcome, to Ardent’s Fall, dearie.”