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| − | Session Start: Sun Jul 20 13:55:39 2008
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| − | Session Ident: #exalted1220
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| − | <14:37> [ST] The pine wood beyond the town is denser than first expected, but there are spots, if one knows how to look carefully, that mark areas cleared for further passage. Elk points these out as he, Avir, and Miruna make their way through the woods, but it's Avir who leads the way, pointing unerringly towards the Dogs' sanctum. The sun has risen almost to its zenith in a clear, cool sky- the last of
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| − | <14:37> [ST] the nightfrost drips from branches all around as the Once Dead advance.
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| − | <14:40> [Miruna] Miruna limps slightly, the tightly sewn gash in his thigh restricting its movement. His cuts really were weeping green pus, but he hadn't died of it yet, so he was on his feet and doing his job.
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| − | <14:41> [Avir] Avir pushes doggedly through the woods, thankful that it had at least not yet become to snow this year. He looks back at Miruna. "That will have to be taken care of."
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| − | <14:43> [Avir] Preferably while he was unconscious, if Avir could persuade him to drink the tea again.
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| − | <14:46> [Avir] He stops at the stump of a tree that had been struck by lightning. The bark was slick and black, and a pungent smell of earth drifted up from the great hollow in the center. "Here."
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| − | <14:47> [Miruna] He grimaces, but he knew the other was right. His wounds were still burning with pain, as if they were fresh.
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| − | <14:47> [ST] "What happened to the old man?" Elk asks reluctantly. His eyes are red and swollen - he has at last slept, but obviously is nursing a bit of a hangover from last night. His face is still smudged with ash from Leopard's funeral pyre.
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| − | <14:48> [Avir] Avir looks at him. "It's better you didn't know." Well, better for Avir.
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| − | <14:51> [ST] "I..." Elk shakes his head. "He's... dead, then?"
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| − | <14:51> [Miruna] "He's dead, right?" He would have just broken his knees and left him in the snow, but he was glad enough to let Avir deal with it.
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| − | <14:52> [Avir] "Yes." He draws out a vial of a chlid's blood he'd managed to persuade the villagers to give him, and a big bottle of cinnamon. He'd brought the salt from Icehome.
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| − | <14:55> [Avir] He makes a circle around the tree stump with the salt, dotting it here and there with the child's blood and sprinkles the hollowed center with cinnamon. "This willl take a while," he warns the others.
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| − | <14:56> [Miruna] It felt wrong somehow, that the woods were still Emerald warm. Miruna stalks to a tree, and leans against it, expression blank. "Keep a lookout for the second one."
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| − | <14:56> [ST] Elk nods, drawing his knife, eyes flickering through the undergrowth.
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| − | <14:56> [Miruna] "And what about those other things, the ones you brought in yesterday, are you sealing them away too?"
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| − | <14:57> [Avir] He mutters words of enchantment and binding, prayers and worship. The bits of salt tremble, and the blood oozes further than its volume suggests would be possible, forming a thick unbroken circle. The whole enterprise smells sweetly of cinnamin.
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| − | <14:58> [Avir] Avir doesn't answer, under pretense of performing the ritual. He daubs runes along the bark of the stump with blood, covering each with wax. They glow brilliant red, then fade.
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| − | <14:59> [Avir] "The other one probably ran off. They're bullies, can't handle opposition."
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| − | <15:02> [Miruna] He grins, a humorless bearing of teeth. "So you can't even control them fully. The Dogs cost big just to keep em peaceful. What are you paying them to be your bully-boys?"
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| − | <15:04> [Avir] Avir looks up. "I'm ... the other Dog ran off, I meant." He busies himself rearranging things in his pack, putting the wax back into its stopper. It was an unwise choice; the bottlebug stirs restlessly.
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| − | <15:07> [Miruna] Miruna grunts, accepting the correction. "Then what about your demon?" He wasn't going to let Avir placate him this time.
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| − | <15:08> [Avir] Its squirming distorts the shape of the bottom of the pack. Avir pulls the drawstrings tight. "They're not like the Dogs. They don't want much. Fighting. There are fights enough in our line of work." Avir flashes him a smile.
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| − | <15:11> [Miruna] "So you aren't feeding them people?" Miruna spits the question at him, daring the other man to lie to him. Elk stands nervously to the side, ignored.
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| − | <15:14> [Avir] The other man's contempt makes Avir reckless. "I'm a much better tracker than my arrest rate would indicate." His cool, almost mocking smile is belied by the tension in his shoulders, the trembling in his hands. Avir is terrified. "More economical than bringing them back for execution."
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| − | <15:18> [Miruna] His hand, resting on the pommel of his mace, tightens visibly. He glares at Avir for a few moments. Long enoug to be awkward, long enough to look weak, and he knows it. "ou can't do that," he yells, stabbing a finger at the other man. A finger on his left hand. The other never leaves his mace.
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| − | <15:20> [Avir] "Why not?" Avir asks calmly enough, sensibly enough. His heart races in his chest. "We'd never have defeated the Dogs without Stomp and the female. They'd have torn us to bits in the first few seconds."
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| − | <15:21> [Avir] He slaps the side of the trunk. "It'd done. We'll need someone from the village to bring more wax up every year or so, but it'll hold." Avir slings his bag over his shoulder, and pauses, realizing that Miruna stood on the path, blocking his path. Avir meets his eyes.
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| − | <15:23> [Miruna] He grimaces, knowing the other man was right, but unwilling to give up the point. "Thats the same thing Swan was thinking, that he needed demons to do his dirty work, to �protect�. Well, look what came of that."
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| − | <15:23> [ST] Elk, as the one in command, should say something. He curses quietly, standing away from the conflict, looking for a horror that probably isn't there but is preferable to the one that might break out behind him.
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| − | <15:25> [Avir] "No. Swan sacrificed innocents- and not to demons either. I don't do that." The red jewel in Avir's left ear winks.
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| − | <15:32> [Miruna] "How do I know that?" he thunders. "All I saw was yesterday, when the most putrid things there were fighting for us? What d'ya think those folk'll say about the Once Dead when people ask, about you or me?"
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| − | <15:35> [Miruna] "How do I know that?" he thunders. "All I saw was yesterday, when the most putrid things there were fighting for us? What d'ya think those folk'll say about the Once Dead when people ask, about you or me?"
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| − | <15:38> [Avir] "They'll say that we saved them," Avir says quietly. "They'll say we saved them from their own evil. I don't have any proof- save that I am one of the Once Dead. Do you really believe that of me, that I'd be like- him?" Avir gestures to the hills in the direction of Swan's corpse.
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| − | <15:42> [Miruna] "No. You'd be better at it, more dangerous." He glowers. "Would you sell babes to them?" he shrugs. "You've already said you feed them people." He pauses, disturbed. "They do just eat them, right?"
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| − | <15:45> [Avir] It wasn't a bad question. "That's all they do." Well, it was all Stomp did. He never looked in the basement when he could avoid it. "And not *people*. Murderers. Rapists. People like enough demons already."
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| − | <15:47> [Avir] "Look Miruna, you have a choice. You can call me a monster, kill me now-" Avir's mouth is dry. He thought Miruna's loyalty to his comrades was greater than his revulsion, but he wasn't sure- "or you can accept that I'm not the nicest guy, but I'm Once Dead."
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| − | <15:48> [Miruna] "A lot of your brothers are murderers! Killing is cleaner than that." He spits.
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| − | <15:49> [Avir] "I'm Once Dead," Avir repeats stubbornly. He spreads his arms. "What are you going to do, Miruna?"
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| − | <15:50> [Miruna] That sobers him. His grip tightens, then loosens. "I can keep an eye on you. Make sure that you don't go doing this again." He sighs, shakes his head. "Finish this shit up."
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| − | <15:51> [Miruna] He turns his back on him, almost wishing Avir was fool enough to jump him.
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| − | <15:53> [Avir] A little sigh of relief escapes Avir as he lowers his arms. He bends down to pick up his pack. "Don't tell the others." He glances at Elk. "Nor you either."
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| − | <15:54> [Miruna] "I don't take your orders." Not that he would shame himself by telling anyone. That he had needed demons to help him do his duty.
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| − | <15:55> [ST] Elk swallows. "They probably saved our lives," he says at last. "That's worth something, I guess." Nor would he report this. His failure, with nearly half his troops dead, seems sharp enough to him already.
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| − | <15:57> [Avir] Avir clasps Elk's shoulder, regretting it instantly when he feels the boy shudder under his hand. He withdraws his arm. "Don't give them the choice," Avir adds to Miruna's back. "Between executing me and officially welcoming demon-calling into the Once Dead...do you know what they'd choose?"
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| − | <15:57> [Miruna] "Its not worth it. Deaths everywhere out here, the demons aren't gonna keep you alive so much longer. And I'd rather die without than with."
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| − | <15:59> [Miruna] He ignores Avir, not willing to agree, and not wanting to let himself say anything that he owuld have to back up.
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| − | <15:59> [Avir] Avir had won. His secret was safe for a while longer. He lets out a ragged breath. "I wouldn't," he says softly as he quickens his pace and passes the man on the trail.
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| − | <16:01> [Miruna] Miruna stomps back behind the others, and then curses as he trips on an exposed root. The wound on his thigh pulled open again. "We get back, you better make me some of that vile tea and practice the honest part of your trade."
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| − | <16:03> [Avir] Avir stops to help him up, and backs off, hands raised, when Miruna glares at him. "Of course," he agrees, relieved. He'd been afraid he'd have to slip something in to the man's tea.
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| − | <16:06> [Miruna] Grumpily, Miruna begins to stomp along, and regrets it. He is walking much more gingerly soon. His thick northern buff coat is too thick, and waterroof to soak through with the pus. But it bleeds through his pants and rubs all over the inside of the coat and the front of his leg, stick and warm, and soon to be nauseating when the coat is opened.
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| − | <16:07> [Avir] "Maybe we should stop. I can work on it here," Avir says as he notices how slowly the man is walking.
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| − | <16:09> [Miruna] Miruna doesn't even object, just leans on a tree and uses his arm to lower himself slowly to the ground.
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| − | <16:12> [Avir] "Get some water," Avir tells Elk, handing him a pan. He builds a fire and helps Miruna out of his coat. He wrinkles his nose at the stench. "You have extra pants?"
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| − | <16:12> [ST] Elk heads off for a sluggish, slush-filled stream you passed on the way into the forest, seemingly glad to be away
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| − | <16:16> [Avir] He helps Miruna out of them, laying the nasty wound bare. He makes the noxious tea after Elk returns with the water and when Miruna's eyes roll back into his head and he slumps against the tree, looks at Elk. "You'd best look the other way."
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| − | <16:17> [ST] Elk eyes Avir suspiciously. "If you try anything..." he begins, but stops himself, doing as Avir asked.
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| − | <16:18> [Miruna] Miruna laughs slightly at that. "You be there to guard me."
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| − | <16:20> [Avir] Avir waits until Miruna is asleep, then coaxes the bottlebug out of his bag. It chirrups chidingly as it crawls to the wound on its spider legs, razor-sharp legs diving into the wound, irrigating, cleaning and sewing. Avir watches Elk's shoulders twitch at the odd noises and croons, but he stares straight ahead, sure enough.
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| − | <16:20> [Avir] The wound is a bright pink line in Miruna's side when the bug crawls back into its sack. "Done."
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| − | <16:21> [ST] Elk turns around in time to see the bag lurch slightly, and the clean nature of the wounds. "How-?" he starts to ask, but then shuts up.
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| − | <16:23> [Avir] Avir regards him sardonically. "Miruna will be awake in an hour or so."
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| − | <16:27> [ST] Elk nods, more than a little fearful of the other. He settles down to wait for Miruna to rouse himself.
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| − | <16:27> [Miruna] Miruna sleeps peacefully, although that might have been the drugs.
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| − | <16:32> [ST] The sun is dipping low over the rocky walls of the valley when the Once Dead take their leave of Tanstaad, but there are hours of daylight still left. The Once Dead had left Icehome as their own parade, celebrated and cheered. Now that they have saved the town, only a sullen numbness seems to have settled over its residents. Few of them are there to see them off. Selza, Gaf, and,
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| − | <16:32> [ST] curiously bundled against the cold, the guildwoman, Cadda.
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| − | <16:33> [Avir] "You could come with us if you wanted," Avir tells Selza. "The Once Dead are always looking for recruits."
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| − | <16:35> [ST] Selza stands aloof from everyone, tall, gaunt, and harsh. She seems taken aback at Avir's suggestion, but after a moment, a smile forms on her face, pained and rueful. "Perhaps. I am not much of a fighter. But there is little for me here, any longer."
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| − | <16:38> [Miruna] Miruna doesn't comment, but he doesn't object. She had thrown a spear well enough last night.
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| − | <16:38> [ST] Gaf scratches the back of his neck. He looks to have aged years in the past few hours.
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| − | <16:39> [Avir] "You've courage enough, certainly, and we train everyone within an inch of their lives. The pay's great but the death rate's high." He opens a hand. "It's up to you."
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| − | <16:39> [Avir] He looks at Graf. "But perhaps they need you here. It's up to you."
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| − | <16:40> [ST] Selza nods, suddenly firm, and steps forward to briefly grip the other's hand. She doesn't look back, once. "I will come," she says. "I will never look upon this place again with anything but contempt."
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| − | <16:42> [ST] "How sweet," Cadda says, muffled within her furs. It's above freezing, not nearly that cold. "You'll remember my note, Avir?" She smiles, her eyes half-lidded. "Otherwise I'll be stuck here for the winter, and that would make me rather cross. I don't think Broc or the tavernkeeper would mind, though."
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| − | <16:43> [Avir] "I will, Cadda." She would have heard of the demons by now; he was uncomfortably aware that he needed to keep her happy. Unless...no. It was as he had told Miruna. He was no murderer.
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| − | <16:45> [Avir] "We'll see about sending a detachment of soldiers to train a militia," he tells Graf. The League would do that sometimes, for the border communities that pushed Haslanti's expansion.
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| − | <16:46> [ST] "Thank you. It is our shame that we allowed our own militia to grow so weak. Perhaps we are all to blame, for believing Swan's lies. I'll tend the wards," Gaf continues. "It seems simple enough. We won't be troubled by the Dogs again. The others... they are fearful of you now, for the company to keep. But you saved us from the Dogs... maybe from ourselves." He looks down, unable to make
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| − | <16:46> [ST] eye contact now that Selza has joined the group. "For what it's worth, thank you."
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| − | <16:48> [Avir] "Don't, ah, spread it around," Avir says awkwardly, multiplying in his head the sources of potential accusation. Dammit.
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| − | <16:49> [Miruna] Miruna nods awkwardly. This was normally a time of good cheer, this was sour instead. There was no use asking them to keep quiet. They would talk. He had scraped his armor clean the night before, very drunk but with sure hands for the wrok. But he hadn't repainted himself. If they forgot who he was, much the better.
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| − | <16:50> [ST] "Most of them barely understand," he says, turning to go. "I'm not certain that I do. I know I don't want to. Now, a safe journey for all of you. I must tend to... matters at home. Goodbye, Selza. May the Hare lead you to a brighter future than the one you have known."
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| − | <16:51> [ST] She does not reply.
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| − | <16:52> [Avir] Selza would be a good soldier of the Once Dead. Strong. Hardened. But looking at her stony face, Avir was already missing Cadda. "I'll see you in Icehome, lady of the Guild," he tells her with a bow.
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| − | <16:53> [ST] "You're hardly the only man to summon a demon, Avir," she says, with a hint of a laugh. "Just be careful it doesn't slip the leash on you." She gives the slightest of nods, all false courtesy, and turns to leave.
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| − | <16:56> [Miruna] He scowls, and nods her a barely polite farewell. The less said about this the better.
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| − | <16:58> [Avir] "Well," Avir says cheerily. "What a road we have a head of us."
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| − | [17:00] [ST] Four came to the Emerald, and four depart. But they are not the same four. In more ways than one, Elk thinks that night in the aghar they have hastily erected, shivering in his bedroll. Outside their sparse, efficient tent, the first true snow of the year begins to fall.
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| − | [ST] Evening comes early to Icehome as it does many of the Greenfields, the shielding cliff walls blotting out the sun. Long shadows stretch over the city, filling streets and alleys. Outside, the pre-Calibration clamor continues as celebrants, the devout, and the drunk revel before the ending of the year. Faithful Hare's home lies strangely quiet amidst the din.
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| − | [Hare] Hare is grateful for the quiet. She couldn't buy such silence with a promise of candy and rides on the elk normally. She grinds a lense for her apparatus, pausing every now and then to squint at it. Theoretically, properly angled glass would distort perception enough to see into the hidden world. Theoretically. A sorcerer she knew had once laughed when she explained her theory, but he was a drug-dependent crpiple so
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| − | [Hare] she does not credit his scorn.
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| − | [Hare] She works by gaslight, cursing her breath and sucking her thumb when her careful scraping goes awry. The bottom floor of the house is given over to a mess of projects. Even the boys have a kite under works. A table and a fireplace are squeezed into a corner- normally Faithful Hare or Alyeska bought food from street vendors to feed the boys.
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| − | [ST] A sharp, sudden sound interrupts the pleasant silence of Hare's toil. Her workroom's window faces to the east and is usually free of the winds that cut into the city, but a sudden gust strikes it now, and the latch fails to catch. The window hammers open with a sharp sound, and a breath of cold air enters. Flakes of nightsnow waft into the room. The lantern flickers.
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| − | [Hare] Faithful Hare starts, dropping the glass. It shatters. "Damn!" She rises to close the window.
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| − | [ST] A dark, delicate shape squats on the sill, regarding Hare with black, lifeless eyes. A crow. It squawks noisily as she approaches.
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| − | [Hare] Hare pauses a few feet from the window. Crows could be bad omens. And were dirty besides. She gestures with her hands. "Shoo!"
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| − | [ST] The crow hops sideways on the sill, but doesn't fly away as it should.
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| − | [ST] "Is it mine?"
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| − | [ST] The voice comes from behind her. Familiar, but strained, distant. It's the voice of Alyeska, her husband.
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| − | [Hare] Hare freezes in the guilty act of reaching into her pocket for some sesame seeds to feed it. "Alyeska! I didn't hear you come in." She turns around. "Not unless you have a pet you haven't told me about-"
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| − | [ST] "Not the bird," he says, stepping into the room. He's not normally a threatening man, though given more to quiet smiles than bouts of laughter. He is not smiling now, as he stands next to her. He places a hand against Hare's belly, softly.
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| − | [Hare] A vice squeezes Hare's heart. He couldn't know. She'd been so careful- she- how did he even know she was pregnant? She looks at the stricken face of the man she loved. She couldn't show guilt. "What's that supposed to mean?"
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| − | [ST] "Is it mine?" It's a different voice, rougher, yet perhaps more familiar. Red Boar enters behind Alyeska, so broad-shouldered he has to edge sideways through the door, as he always did, his blunt, almost idiot features obscuring the genius behind them. They had been partners once, years ago, and more recently, in a different way.
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| − | [ST] He moves into the room, a figure of familiarity and hulking menace, to stand beside Alyeska. His own hand covers her husband's, both of them pressing slightly.
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| − | [ST] The room seems... brighter. Is she feeling faint?
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| − | [Hare] No. This couldn't be real. No. She wrenches away from them both, bumping painfully against the window. The crow caws, ruffling its wings. "I don't know!" she cries.
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| − | [ST] The room grows brighter. The world seems to swim. A sharp pain sears the back of her hand as the crow nips away a strip of her flesh.
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| − | [ST] "Mine!" It caws, and there is a coldness in her belly, the hilt of a blade, blood running down her stomach, her legs.
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| − | [Hare] Faithful Hare screams, clutching her stomach. Her daughter. Her son. Her daughter, her daughter. No.
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| − | [ST] The room glows now, searingly bright as with a dawn beyond imagining. The sun is rising in the east, though it is the middle of the night. The sun is rising, and burning, and Red Boar and Alyeska crisp to ash and fade away, and then the light is in her, consuming her, destroying her, and the warmth is worse than the cold.
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| − | [ST] Hare wakes with a start as the window blows open. She lies with her cheek against the desk, the lens pressing painfully into her face. The room is dark. The light is gone.
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| − | [Hare] "T-talespinner's tits..." Hare groans, shocked into profanity. She presses her hand against her stomach. She can feel the slight thickness of it. Still there. Thank all the gods, still there. Her heart races in her chest. If she were as superstitious about dreams as her husband, she would run to find a dream teller. She knew better. No god took an interest in her. It was- guilt- guilt and anxiety- and nothing more.
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| − | [Hare] She walks to the window that had blown open in her dream. Firmly latched. She re-latches it just to be sure. The coolness of the air, the darkness, refreshes her. Damn Alyeska anyway. When would he be home?
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| − | [ST] It's much darker outside. Alyeska is fond of his late nights - it gives him peace, he says, and keeps the creditors away. In the League, a creditor was as like to challenge you to a duel as find an advocate, so maybe he has a point.
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| − | [ST] What's more troubling is that the children aren't home - they'd be making such a racket she could hardly miss them if they were. They wouldn't be with their father - which left only one place, and one person. Red Boar has undoubtedly invited them to another one of his fights at Salla's Pit.
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| − | [Hare] "Damn them all," Hare says, pulling on a leather coat adorned with fur. She was in no mood to do anything but find her own bed. The anger is refreshing though, reinvigorating, chasing the bad dream away. Alyeska had laughed at her when she started wearing her coat, with summer hardly over, and the boys teased her mercilessly, but she saw no point in freezing for form's sake.
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| − | [Hare] The door slams shut behind her, and Hare has worked up a reassuring blaze of rage by the time she reaches Salla's Pit in the bad part of Icehome.
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| − | [ST] Salla's Pit isn't the real name of the business, of course. By law, Salla operates a warehouse out near Icehome's docks, and true enough, the first floor of the structure does house a decent amount of shipping. A narrow staircase leads down to a cramped basement, actually warm against the cold, filled as it is with people, breathing and shouting their hot air.
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| − | [ST] The doorguard, a woman named Letta, looks to have been left in the sun to dry, but the short, ugly blade at her side has clearly seen a lot of use. She's used to the sight of Faithful Hare by now, and almost smiles as the other approaches. There isn't a great deal of humor in it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Standard fee to get in, same as always," she says. "It'll probably take you half the night to find them."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Hare digs for a coin from her pouch and tosses it to her. Not worth fighting over. She'd have word with Salla too, while she was at it. "You could save us all a lot of time if you just kept them out like you were supposed to."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Take it up with Boar," she says. She holds the coin up to her mouth as if to bite it, then pockets it instead. "He insisted, he paid, and he's a big draw here. If he wants the wee ones to get sprayed with his blood so bad, Salla figures it's his problem."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Still, she stands aside so that Hare can make her way down the rickety stairs to the Pit itself.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Hare glowers and walks down the stairs. She was no more optimistic than Letta of her chances. Mika and Delya knew the cat was in the cream, alright, and the way they thought it they wouldn't make their chances worse by hiding from her. She wondered what fertility goddess she angered to give her sons in place with daughters.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Though with her luck they'd have been twice as bad and in love with Boar in the bargain.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] She hears the shouting and cheers, feels the warmth of hundreds of compressed bodies, long before she reaches the bottom.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The basement is as raucous as ever - Hare has seen it rather more times than she ever wanted to. In the center of the floor a pit is sunk almost fifteen feet deep, floored with wood and sawdust. The crude scaffolding around the walls groans with bodies - those who have climbed to perch on shelves and niches of rock. Rough plank benches circle the pit, and everywhere people are standing,
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] shouting, cheering.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] It's a microcosm of Icehome itself. Ice merchants stand next to the strange Fallai, who stand next to tribespeople with wide eyes as they drink in this spectacle of forbidden violence. Young women and men move through the crowds laden with wine jugs, dispensing them as the crowd shouts.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Faithful Hare sees some faces she recognizes - the Once Dead Fervent John, the supposed former Immaculate, stands at the railing rubbing his shaved head. Snow Peacock, she of the quick tongue and quicker knife, leans dangerously over the railing like a girl half her age, shouting encouragement, her short white hair plastered to her face with sweat. There is no sign of Mika and Delya.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] If she knew Red Boar and her boys, they'd be close to the action. Hare pushes her way through the crowd closer to the pit. Barbarians, they all were, especially these northern merchants who pretended to be so civilized. She was vaguely worried that the unborn one was being contaminated even in the womb. If it his child- she cut that thought of right quick.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "Peacock!" she shouts, though the woman can't even hear her until she's right beside her. She grabs her shoulder. "Delya? Mika?" she has to shout to be heard.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The previous fight is just finishing. A sour faced woman, her feet bare, walks out into the arena, strewing sawdust to soak up the blood. The overseer of the fight, a massive, sweaty man with the smooth face of a eunuch, holds up the hand of the victorious gladiator. The other crawls away to hoots of derision, his face streaming blood.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] As the roar of the crowd fades away, Peacock turns to Hare, her face aglow with excitement. "Hare! Bet I can guess why you're here!" She laughs, clearly more than a little drunk. "I saw - I saw Mel-Melya and Mika over- somewhere over-" she points across the pit.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Over there," Fervent John points out helpfully, and Hare spots the bright yellow scarf she forced on Mika this morning.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "Gotcha," Hare growls. "Thanks John." She considers jumping onto the railing and getting over the heads of the crowd Nexus-style, but Mika would see her coming. She thrusts herself back into the pack of bodies and makes her way grimly to Mika's side.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] It's slow going - Hare is jostled, cursed, groped, and stained with splatters of alcohol by the time her hand falls on Mika's scarf. He turns, his eyes widening, and gives a yelp like a scalded cat.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Hare grips both shoulder. "Delya?" she growls. He wriggles like he's considering an escape, but Hare has been collaring villains before he was a gleam in his father's eye and he gets nowhere.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Delya chooses that unfortunate moment to wriggle out of the press with a jug of wine as big as his brother's head, still talking. "Found this in the corner, Mik, and it's still..." his mouth opens as he spots his mother. "...half... full."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Faithful Hare's hand shoots out and grabs him by the neck. "Feeding your little brother that poison, are you?" Faithful Hare is secretly pleased; maybe the prospect of his young sons drunkenly running around the worst part of town would stir Alyeska to take her side in this.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Peacock's having fun," Delya says, defensive. His crush on the woman is only about as obvious as the nose on his face. "Anyway, Boar said we could come."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "Yeah, and what have I said? You keep away from him. We're going home. We'll discuss punishment when we get there, but let me give you a little preview: you're going to be snug and warm inside come Winterfair." She glances at the pit where they're laying down sawdust to soak up the blood. "I'll have word with Red Boar, never you fear."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Mother," Mika protests, struggling against her grip. "It's not fair! If you're going to make us stay in then, at least let us watch Boar fight."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "He's about to come out," Delya adds, desperation tinging his voice.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] She'd had word with Red Boar before, lots of them, at volume, but she meant to make them stick this time. "What's fair is you doing what you're told," Faithful Hare says mercilessly. She pulls them away. Faithful Hare hadn't had parents, not really, just a drunk and a gang, until Enigmatic Butterfly scooped her and Red Boar up, but she knew ruthless tyranny was the foundation.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Delya and Mika's agony is writ clean on their face when the first cheer goes up as they're pushed away from the Pit.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Red Boar's entrance goes unseen by the boys, but they can hear his ritual insult and his challenger's reply that they must have a duel of honor. It is this dubious formality that gives the pit fights even a modicum of legality in Haslanti society. The boys squirm fitfully as Hare leads them away.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Why do you get so mad at Boar, anyway?" Delya says. He's approaching a difficult age. "He's your friend."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "Former partner," Faithful Hare corrects untruthfully. "Because he's taking you to fights and...low places-" Red Boar had threatened to introduce them to a brothel when they were old enough and Hare was sure he wasn't joking "-and I told him not to."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "He's fun!" Mika says, clearly working himself into a rage. The crowd is focused on the fight, but a few laugh as Hare drags him along. "He's more fun than father!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] They reach the stairs and Faithful Hare's temper flares right up. Mika got it from her. They both did, gods help her. "He's a thug and a criminal...and...don't say that about your father!" She would've slapped him if she weren't supposed to be Haslanti, and civilized, herself now. When they reach the door Hare fishes out another coin for Letta. "Keep them here. There'll be two more for you if they haven't escaped
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] when I get back."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Letta's always glad to make a bit extra on the side. Perhaps it's a mercy she didn't sell the boys any of the marijuana she keeps for discerning customers. "Fine by me," she says, not giving Hare a second thought. "You two, sit over on them barrels and don't make a peep or I'll tickle you with this blade."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "You will not," Mika says, but he seats himself nonetheless. His brother follows a moment later.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "He is more fun than father," he says to Delya, a little too loudly to be an accident. "I wish..." But he doesn't quite have the courage to say it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Faithful Hare pretends she didn't hear as she descends back into the Pit, fuming. Why wouldn't they realize how good they had it? She watches a bit of the fight as she waits for it to finish, until she realizes she's enjoy watching the play of the the muscles in Red Boar's back too much. She reddens and decides to wait for him in the office.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The preparation room is rank, reeking of sweat and blood, with no furnishings but basins of water and splintery wooden benches. Hare has no trouble getting in - they recognize her as much as Letta does, and don't even charge. As she waits, fighters behind her go through a few practice motions, punching at the air, stretching. They pay her no mind - she might as well be part of the furnishings.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Red Boar comes in later than she might have expected, bleeding from a dozen shallow cuts. The fights forbid any weapon longer than a few inches, but a bladed spur could still cut, and his opponent had been fast and passing good. At the moment, he lives up to his name.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He spots her as he comes in, grunting it what might be familiarity. He moves to one of the cleaner looking basins, sponging away the blood. His knuckles, wrapped with leather and plates of metal, are red and swollen.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Faithful Hare swallows an exclamation. Red Boar chose his stupid empty life, after all. But she can't hold entirely stifle a taunt. "Slowing down in your old age?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "What did our master say? Better to strike once, decisively, than to tire oneself out with useless struggle." A strange expression crosses his face, and he plucks something from one of his knuckles, tossing it into Hare's lap. Half a shattered tooth. "Good advice."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He takes a seat, seeming to know what's coming. He reaches under the bench for a jug of whiskey, carefully pouring it along each of the cuts.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "Didn't help her much, though, did it?" Faithful Hare makes a face as the grisly object lands on her. She shakes the tooth out of her lap with her coat. "I've told you, Red Boar, I don't want Delya and Mika watching your fights."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] She watches him clean the wounds. She'd used to do that for him, when it had been short,desperate struggles in alleyways and a limp back to Engimatic Butterfly's townhouse afterward.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Why not?" He smiles, but it's not exactly a friendly gesture. "Afraid they'll learn how to be men?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "You think that's what those people up in the galleries are? Men? Betting on who lives and who dies- carrion feeders." She looks at the scars on his chest, the fresh little wounds. It hurts to see, in some quiet place. "And you're the carrion."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] She remembers the fresh insult. "Delya found a whole pitcher of wine...Gods only know what mischief it would have brought him and Mika to."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "You don't have the right to judge me," he says, scowling. He sets the bottle down hard enough to jar it. "I'm no more crowfood than you. And I can walk away any time I want. I didn't sell myself out to the Haslanti." He laughs at her second remark. "Wine won't kill a man. It's just there to give him courage."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "For those who need to get it in liquid form?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "That's a cheap shot, Hare. You were there. I don't have to defend my bravery to you. I'm a hell of a lot more brave than-" And he stops himself, with great effort. "Than a lot of men."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "They asked me to come. They all but begged me." He shrugs.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I came by to see you, they said you were working. They said their father was working. They wanted something to do."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Obviously she should give them more to do. They could scrub out the barracks and clean every saber in the armory. She was sick of the fight, it was the same argument, always. The Once Dead. "Maybe you should stop coming by, then," Faithful Hare says quietly. "I don't want them involved with you, Boar. You know that. I want them to grow up to be good men, like their father."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "If he's such a good man, then why isn't he here?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He leans close to her, too close, in public he should never be this close. His lips brush hers, softly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "If he's such a good man, then why are you here?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] He smelled good, even under all the blood. Anger flares. He knew better than that. Faithful Hare stands abruptly. She folds her arms and glares down at him. "He's working, and he takes a lighter view of this pit-fighting than I do. Thinks they'll grow out of it. I think it's time you stopped using the boys to...to... punish me for joining the Once Dead."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I'm not using them," he says, spreading his hands. "And I'm not the one punishing them, either. But fine. I won't bring them back here."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "Good." Hare's heart beats fast in her chest, from the argument and something else. Damn Red Boar anyway.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I'm just..." He doesn't look up at her. "You used to be different. Now... you've become someone I barely know. You sold out to the Haslanti. And in thanks... they're going to kill you. Someday, you'll wish I was there, even if I was leading those boys astray. There won't be anyone else."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Maybe he was right. She remembers her dream vividly, the burning light, the blood on her thighs. She pushes the dream aside. She wasn't as Haslanti as all that yet. "I couldn't wait for the Butterfly forever. I wanted-" she'd wanted a family, and a life, and all the things Enigmatic Butterfly had never wanted for them.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] But they'd talked about this too.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He rises, brushing off her explanations. "No. None of us can wait forever. I should be going. Winnings to collect. The Dragon-blooded lady bet big on me this time, or so they say. Might get something out of it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] His voice is a bit more tender when he adds. "I hope to see you again soon."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Hare is conscious of an entirely hypocritical flash of jealousy when he mentions the Dragonblooded. She knew how Nellens rewarded her favorites. She reddens slighlty and touches her fingers to his but doesn't answer. "The boys are waiting," she says disjointedly, and flees upstairs.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Maybe he was right, she thinks, miserable with a mixture of guilt and excitement. She didn't used to be such a coward.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Stop drumming your heels on that crate afore I cut your head off for your mother and throw the rest away," Letta snaps as Hare climbs the stairs. The boys wait, restless. Truly, only armed guard could have kept them this still, this long.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Did he win?" Mika asks, as soon as she's in sight.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "Yes," Hare says, and regrets telling him as soon as the boy's face lights up. "Come on, we're going home. Red Boar's said he won't bring you here any longer."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The complaints from that statement rise, predictably and vigorously, but die just as quickly. Minds race. They'd just have to be sneakier next time.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Faithful Hare eyes them cynically. She knew what that portended. "I had a word with Fervent John too. They say there's plenty of work for you at the armory."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The chorus of groans increases. Later, Delya will recall that he might see Snow Peacock there, the smallest of balms to this travesty.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] If they expended half the genius they put into thwarting her into their studies, they'd be well on their way to being master crafters already, Hare thinks, once she has them both in bed- or at least imprisoned in their room, which amounted to the same thing. She hears the door close below.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Alyeska comes in as quietly as always. Hare can hear his slow, steady routine. It might be any night, to him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] "They were at the pit again," Faithful Hare tells him, walking to him and hugging him for the reassurance of his arms around her.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He presses his forehead against hers, laughing a little. "From the sound of your voice, they'dve done better to stay there and become blood moppers."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] She smiles involuntarily. "Close. They're going to be working for Fervent John in the armory."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "It'll do them good. Just make sure they don't run off with any of the weapons. They're dangerous enough as it is."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] Hare shudders at the thought. Though maybe the lesson of slicing off a few fingers would set them straight about their course in life. "I talked to Red Boar. He says he won't bring them around any longer," Hare says, "but I wish you'd talk with Delya. He found a pitcher of wine he was going to share with Mika. He should look after him more."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Some would say he is," he says, chuckling a little. "I remember my brother - oh, but I guess you're right. I'll talk to him. We might do to save all this until Calibration is over. We'll be cooped up inside together for so long that we might all be the death of each other. And then we would have wasted our last moments together."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Hare] She grins. "I don't think that's likely," she says, kissing him lingeringly. "But alright."
| |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | ----------
| |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | [17:12] [ST] Another day in the Tomb, another bit of silver. Scant days until Calibration, and the city is celebrating the end of a year and a harvest, and giving Master Winter the first of his placating sacrifices. Outside, revelry grips the streets, but in the squat structure of the Tomb, huddled in the lee of Citadel Rock, the atmosphere is rather more funeral.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:14] [ST] Those few Once Dead on duty gripe and grouse, playing dice in the barracks room, as Winter Fish and Faithful Hare arrive after receiving a summons delivered by Laughing Jek, who isn't living up to his name.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:14] [ST] "It's a fucking crime," he complains, walking ahead of them. "The least Soldas could do is have the decency to get drunk and leave us all alone."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:15] [ST] "It's the first real snow, for Owl's sake! It's the first and last time all year a man can get laid simply because someone else wants to keep warm."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:20] [Hare] "You're paid well enough, Jek. Buy it if you're having trouble getting it otherwise," Faithful Hare says with good humor. She's not native, and she reacts as they typically do: swathed in fur and leather way before time. She has a round face and a snub noise, and she clatters when she walks with a dozen thaumaturgical devices.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:22] [Hare] The boys loved the snow, shouting and jumping at it, and for that matter so did she: it never snowed in Nexus. Her black hair is knotted up behind her head and a pair of spectacles perches on her nose. Marvelous invention: worth living in Haslanti for the spectacles alone.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:23] [ST] "My dear, you should know by now that it's all in the chase," Jek says, not missing a beat. "A man can buy all the meat he wants, but it's not the same unless you hunted it yourself. Even a strapling like Elk knows that. But then, you missed his last performance... and the anathema, for that matter."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:23] [Fish] Fish laughs, the Raven tatooed to his cheek crinklign with the lines of his face. "Hey, we'll get this cleared up soon enough, get back to our fun." He hadn't changed for the winter yet, but his sealskins would be warm enough for months.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:24] [ST] "Anyway," Jek says, stopping with a flourish before Soldas's door. "Your noble scalelord awaits."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:25] [Fish] "Whats this about anyways?" he asks easily. "I'm sure you know more of whats going on than he does," he nods at Trembleshanks' office.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:27] [Fish] He has a soft voice, at odds with his haggard appearance. Most fishermen's throats sounded cracked and raw after years on the ice sea. He did have the scars of one though.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:29] [ST] "I don't, for once," Jek says, with a shrug that shows he couldn't care less. "I will tell you this, when he sent for me Soldas looked like he was about to piss himself." He pauses. "I mean, more than he usually does."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:30] [Hare] "Hmm. Won't draw us away from Icehome, then." Trembleshanks was brave about danger far away: less when it knocked on his door.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:31] [Hare] That satsified her well enough. She wasn't much for tromping in the mud questioning the Icewalker barbarians. Did you see where the cannibal spirit went? Would you recognize the yetti if you saw it again?
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:31] [Fish] He nods laughing. "lets see what he wants then." He shoves open the door without knocking and steps in, waving at the officer. "You called?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:32] [ST] Soldas looks up from his desk, startled. A spastic sweep of his hand knocks loose a hide scroll. He really does seem jumpier than usual, the dark circles under his eyes a little darker. "Come in," he says, completely unnecessarily. "And bring Jek with you."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:33] [ST] Outside, Jek swears softly but audibly, already halfway down the hall. He turns to rejoin the others.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:36] [Hare] Faithful Hare's eyes gleam with amusement. "Sir," she says.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:37] [ST] As the Once Dead file in, Soldas tries to compose himself, mostly unsuccessfully. It's clear, a moment later, why - a tall lean figure steps from the corner to stand at his side, cloaked and hooded even indoors.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:38] [Fish] He smiles with banality, but his left hand is drumming impatiently on his thigh. THe rest of him is relaxed and friendly in a scruffy way.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:38] [ST] "At ease," Soldas says. It's a command he could well take heed of himself. "An urgent mission has come up. Elements... of... the Haslanti government have called for the Once Dead to handle it. I've selected you three to look into the matter."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:40] [Hare] "What's come up?" Hare asks, looking at the cloaked figure curiously.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:40] [ST] "A murder." Soldas begins.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:41] [ST] "Murders," the cloaked figure interrupts, in a voice that is clearly feminine and full of authority. "Of important officials in the Haslanti government."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:41] [ST] "Be aware," the figure continues. "That from this moment all spoken is sealed to the dead, and should these secrets escape, your lives, and those of the ones you care for, are utterly forfeit."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:41] [Fish] He starts slightly. Depending on who it was, this might be profitable. Or very dangerous.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:43] [Hare] Hare frowns. It wasn't like the Once Dead to threaten family members. She stares at the cloaked figure.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:44] [ST] "This is bigger than your organization," the woman says, as if reading Hare's mind. "These murders... Soldas?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:44] [ST] Soldas slides over a piece of paper, containing what appear to be a pair of addresses.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:45] [Fish] He tries to peek under the hood, much harder without betraying his interest. But it would really help to know who was feeding them this. For passing the blame later, or blackmail depending.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:46] [ST] Fish notices a sharp nose, a pair of piercing eyes, and little else. She's no woman he recognizes, and could be virtually anyone passing by on the street. "The first victim. Whispering Bear. A former member of the Once Dead, current liason to the Realm Embassy in Icehome. Found dead in his home by a servant this morning."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:47] [ST] "The second victim. Pear Blossom. A courtesan in the employment of Nellens Ralinona in the Seven Sighs of the Dragons. Found dead in an alley this morning as well. Both killed brutally, in similar fashion."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:47] [ST] "You are to find out why. You are to find out who. You are to keep your inquiries circumspect."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:48] [ST] "For the Once Dead to investigate the murder of one of their own is not at all unusual. For it to be known that other elements of the Haslanti government are involved would be less desirable."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:49] [Fish] He nods. "How did they get them?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:50] [ST] "A stabbing in both cases. The corpses mutilated, in both cases. They remain where they fell, for the purpose of further investigation."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:51] [Hare] "Are there any...political circumstances we should be aware of?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:53] [ST] "No."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:54] [ST] "The addresses are there. You may question whatever witnesses you wish, but remember - you are representatives of the Once Dead only."
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| − | | |
| − | [17:54] [Fish] "Anyone found anything yet? The knife, it was a knife? Or footprints? Or are we going to be the first real investigators at the scene?" If noone had catalogued the houses, he'd probably be able to loot them minimally.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [17:55] [ST] "You will be the first on the scene."
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| − | | |
| − | [17:56] [Fish] He nods, smiling inside. "I take it you have no idea who did this, or you'd have told us who you wanted us to find?"
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| − | | |
| − | [17:58] [ST] "We do not know. Time is of the essence, and our resources on the ground are slight. We do not wish to move yet. You will suffice."
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| − | | |
| − | [17:58] [ST] "Gee, thanks," Jek says.
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| − | | |
| − | [17:58] [Hare] They wouldn't have asked Faithful Hare if they hadn't wanted the truth. Two dead connected to the Dragonblooded. No politics. Right. "We'll start right away," she says mildly.
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| − | | |
| − | [17:59] [ST] "Make certain that you do. Report your findings to Soldas."
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| − | | |
| − | [17:59] [ST] Hearing his name seems to remind the man that he exists. He starts. "Yes, ah- dismissed."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:01] [Hare] Faithful Hare salutes him, nods to the woman, and slips out the door.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:01] [Fish] He nods, trying to think of any vendettas he'd heard rumored recently that might have figured in. Nothing really. Niether victim had had a place in teh goddip he'd heard recently. He shudders slightly remembering the stories of the Anathema recently. Good thing that was gone. If one of them were running around executing friends of the Dragonblooded, the city would descend into a battleground right uick.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:03] [ST] "Well, that told us a whole lot of nothing," Jek grouses.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:03] [Fish] He turns and follows the others, amkign sure to note the cloaked face again. He'd try to match it to whatever functionary it belonged to later. When the water wasn't too deep, there was profit to be made from politicla knowledge.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:04] [Hare] "Once of us, eh?" Hare laughs at poor Jek. He looked so glum. "It told us they don't have a clue. Or they wouldn't send us to shake the tree to see what birds flew out."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:05] [Fish] He nods. "Or they're lookign for someone to blame the failure of the investigation on." Though they probably wouldn't have told them they woulkd be the first on teh scene in that case.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:06] [Hare] "Comes with the job," Hare shrugs to conceal her worry. "Well, lets start with our fallen fellow, eh?"
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| − | | |
| − | [18:06] [ST] "Works for me," Jek adds. "We might even have time to tie one on."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:07] [Fish] He grins, following her. "I would've voted to look in on the whore first."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:08] [ST] "So would I, old chum, excepting that she's dead."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:08] [Fish] "Didn't they tell you, so are we" he laughs at his own joke.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:09] [Hare] "You speak for yourself, you cold fish," Hare says lightly enough, but there's a line between her eyes when she looks at him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:11] [ST] Jek laughs uproariously at the commotion as the three make their way out of the Tomb, the source of several jealous glances by members of the Once Dead who perhaps think they're departing for more exciting reasons.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:11] [ST] "Bring a fresh one back for me," Startled Rabbit calls, bitter.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:12] [Hare] "Fresh? Or raw?"
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| − | | |
| − | [18:13] [Fish] As they leave, Fish pulls up. "Hey, I should go get my kit" he pats the strap where his crossbow would've hung if he'd brought it to the briefing. "I'll run back and get it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:14] [ST] "Rabbit loves 'em that way," Jek says, way too loudly. "They don't realize how bad she is in bed." Rabbit does not deign to reply, though Fish hears her grumbling as he re-enters the building.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:14] [Fish] They'd let him, hopefully, and he could slip word to Kekkonen, tell him where he'd be. He didn't like to be out of contact unexpectedly, and besides he might as well pass orders for the two houses to be robbed in a few days now as later.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:16] [ST] Outside, the Once Dead are only a desultory distance from the Tomb before they run into the revellers. The winter streets are firelit and crowded with people, shopping, drinking, and reveling. Incense burns in braziers, and prayers to Master Winter, Lady Chimney Draft, Autumn Frost, and the triads of dreams and fate.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:18] [ST] Other prayers to foreign gods are heard here and there, and once the group passes a knot of the Fellai, strange in their sparse winter clothing, whispering prayers to the Lady of Leashed Ash.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:19] [Hare] Faithful Hare keeps her thoughts on the Haslanti deities private. They seemed weak stuff to guard against the strength of winter. She pauses to light a candle to Yo Ping, god of harmony, and hurries after the others.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:21] [ST] Whispering Bear kept his retirement villa in the Old Market, a bit upscale for a former Once Dead, but not dishonorable given his position in the Haslanti Government and his faithful service. His home sits at the corner of a broad square, where hawkers are selling a number of wares and yet more prayers ring out.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:22] [Fish] Fish wanders along with Laughing Jek, joking with him. He was a friendly face to the other dead, well liked and feared by none. And he intended to keep it that way.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:23] [ST] "Remember your place!" a strong voice says. A woman with the shaved head and robes of an Immaculate monk moves through the crowd. "Remember all our places, and honor winter as you should, and all will be well. The temple service tonight gives him his honor, as is due, but no more. All are welcome. And afterwards-" she is jostled by the crowd. "There will be porridge for all who have need-"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:23] [Hare] Faithful Hare is a bit more somber. She hadn't forgotten what they were here for, and not yet jaded enough it didn't matter to her. She glances around the square, noting possible entrances and exits.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:23] [ST] Whispering Bear's house rises ahead of the Once Dead, a two-story structure of stone and wood, though the upper story is hidden by the wooden canopy over the winter streets.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:24] [ST] Across the way is the city's only Immaculate Temple, nestling between a private residence and a bootmaker's shop
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| − | | |
| − | [18:25] [Hare] She wondered if Whispering Bear was a member. It would be worth her time to question them, she suspected. She examines the door of Whispering Bear's house before she knocks on it.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:26] [Fish] Fish leans a shoulder on teh doorframe, watching Hare. "Anyone here, like as not be the murderer. We're meant to be first in."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:28] [Hare] "They'll have someone guarding the scene, like as not. Doesn't kill us to avoid startling them."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:28] [Hare] "Hmm." She pushes open the door.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:29] [Fish] "Think they forced it?" it galled sometimes to ask the stupid questions.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:30] [ST] The door opens on a common parlour, probably shared with the neighboring house. It is the Haslanti fashion to have a common room for each few houses. A stairway on either side leads up to private apartments.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:30] [Hare] "No."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:31] [ST] Most of the cooking is probably done on the open hearth, in chiwch a fire is burning. A large table and a few wooden chairs litter the room. It's not ostentatious, which isn't the Haslanti way.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:31] [Hare] Though she would check the other door later just to be sure, and question the neighbor. She walks up the stares, careful to touch nothing.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:33] [ST] A pair of doors stand across from each other in a narrow hal. The one leading to Whispering Bear's apartments seems as intact as the door below. An iron key, wrapped in the piece of paper Soldas handed the investigators, appears to be for the lock.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:33] [Fish] He follows, sauntering but also being careful. He saw the likelyhood that he'd be able to sneak valuables out of the house decreasing. Ah well.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:34] [ST] "I guess we know Bear wasn't living the high life," Jek mentions offhand. "I'll make up for it with my retirement. If I get there."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:35] [Hare] "Save your pennies, then," Hare says, unlocking the door and nudging it open with her foot.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:36] [Hare] Though really, Whispering Bear could have afforded more expensive furnishing if he'd wanted them on his diplomatic salary.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:37] [ST] The unshuttered window across the way lets in enough light to see. Whispering Bear apparently lived a somewhat more lush lifestyle privately. Several pieces of fine furniture fill the room, the shelves on the wall are full of tomes, and a lockbox of valuables sits on a desk across the room. A door indicates a separate bedchamber, something of an extravagance for a man living alone.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [18:38] [ST] Most of the attention, however, is drawn by the corpse of Whispering Bear itself.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:39] [ST] He was a large man, perhaps six feet tall, and broad. His hair and beard had mostly gone gray, but he still possessed the powerful muscles he had gained during service to the Once Dead. He was said to have acquitted himself well as a scalelord during the last war.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:40] [ST] A single wound is centered on his heart - a relatively small amount of blood lies dry and tacky around him on the floor. His eyes are gone, scorched and black. They have been burned out, as if with a hot poker.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:41] [Fish] Fish purses his lips to whistle, silently. "Wonder which happened first. Revenge?"
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| − | | |
| − | [18:41] [Fish] He doubted anyone would start with the eyes if they were trying to get information.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:42] [Hare] "Mmm. Don't touch anything," Hare tells the others are she surveys the scene from the doorway, noting fixtures, objects. Her gaze falls at last to Bear. "Maybe. I doubt it; if they took the eyes...they must have anticipated a thorough investigation."
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| − | | |
| − | [18:43] [Hare] She wondered if the corpse would still be able to tell her what it saw if it didn't have eyes. Maybe not, if they'd been taken out first. She steps into the room, careful to watch where she stepped. She crouches by the body, touches his skin, notes his temperature.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:43] [ST] The room seems much disturbed - scrolls and papers litter the floor, and several oddments on the desk are overturned. Bear apparently struggled, or at least thrashed. Just not very effectively.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:49] [Hare] "Single thrust, straight to the heart. Very sharp weapon. He was drunk when he died. " It was odd the room was so disturbed, when he had been killed so neatly. She draws a piece of paper from his grip, looks it over.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:49] [Hare] "Know much about the Immaculate Texts?" she asks Winter Fish.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:51] [Fish] "Not much at all." And that was even the truth.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:53] [Fish] "Should we start digging through these papers?" he asks, gesturing towards the clutter.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:56] [Hare] "Hmm." They would consult Immaculates later, then. She rises and paces around the room. "Give me a moment." She frowns at the mess of papers scattered about. Her mentor, Enigmatic Butterfly, had been a genius at this work- scene reconstruction. He could have told you which piece of paper had been on top of a stack from the way it scattered on the floor.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:56] [Hare] She was not as good. But she would try.
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| − | | |
| − | [18:57] [Hare] She gets out a ball of string.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:07] [Hare] A constructed maze of string connecting one object to another later, she is satisfied. "It started by the door..." she says, touching a line leading from the body to the doorframe. "It crossed the room to the desk...The assailant was shorter. He never even hit him, or her."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:07] [Hare] She picks up a book, shredded and defiled. "The page came from here."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:08] [Hare] "Now we look through the papers." She grins.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:09] [Fish] He nods, impressed but not especially interested. Didn't seem that knowing exactly how something'd happened would help much for the �who� which was what they were after. He starts looking from page to page among those scattered on the floor, looking for anything interesting and especially another loose page from that book.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:10] [ST] "Hey, not to dampen the excitement..." Jek begins. "But despite the fact that ol' Bear was well past the age where he'd need an aide or two to satisfy a woman, he wasn't exactly a milksop. Whoever took him apart must've been... pretty good."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:11] [Hare] Hare lets him get at it and takes a large set of glass lenses that fit over her spectacles. The lenses distorts her eyes hugely, so that they fill the whole lense. "Superlatively," Hare agrees, blinking her enormous eyes. "I'm glad I won't be fighting him." She grins impishly at Jek, who was indeed mostly good for fighting.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:12] [Hare] While Fish looks at the papers, she scours the rest of the room, pausing to look closely at the window and prowling into the bedroom.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:14] [Fish] Fish shrugs. He jumped him, and besides he won't walk away from a shot from a near rooftop, and won't have a chance to kill us neither." He pats his crossbow.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:18] [Hare] "Hey, lookit this," Hare says. She points at the desk. Carved on it is a word in Old Realm. "Betrayal," she reads.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:18] [Hare] "It looks copied from a book....the strokes aren't very fluid."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:20] [Fish] "You mean he can't write whatever that is and used a stencil?"
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| − | | |
| − | [19:22] [Hare] "Copied it somehow- I don't think who wrote this knows how to write the language." She takes a purple crystal strung from a string studded with pearls swings it over the body, squinting at it as it hums.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:24] [Hare] She takes a pinch of flour from her pouch and tosses it in the air, whispering to it as the powder floats in the air and settles into a pattern around the purple crystal.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:25] [Fish] He glances through the papers again, trying to find one with a word carved out or that appeared to be in that language.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:30] [Fish] There was nothing in the papers beyond a few names and the man's habits. He gives up on them and glances into Bear's sleeping chamber. If the murderer had just come to kill it would be undisturbed, if he had been looking for something he may have had to toss the bedroom as well. None of them thought it was a burglary, so taht was out.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:31] [Hare] The purple crystal is still, and she frowns at it. "He did not expend essence- that, or he hid it will."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:32] [Hare] She glances at the body. "One more trick to try."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:35] [Hare] She sits by Bear's head. "Don't tell my husband," she jokes, grits her teeth, leans down, and kisses the dead man's lips for a long minute. Her breath flows down into the corpse's mouth.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [19:36] [ST] "That you kiss like an Immaculate?" Jek says. "I'm sure he already knows." He takes the rest of it with aplomb.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:37] [Fish] Fish looks back quickly from the bedroom, but he'd missed it.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:38] [Hare] She hated necomrancy. Hated it. Yuck yuck yuck. Hare tried to fool herself it believing it was no different than kissing a doll, but she can taste the death in Bear's mouth as she whispers the ritual words. She draws her head back and wipes her lips. "Your mother kisses like an immaculate," she says in a shaky voice. "Ew. I have questions, bones."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:39] [Hare] "Who killed you?"
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| − | | |
| − | [19:40] [ST] The body coughs slightly, a weak, dry sound, and shifts against the floor. Fingers tremble, wanting to clench. It does not breathe, and its voice, dry and rasping, sounds eerily like Hare's own. "A beautiful girl."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:41] [Hare] "What did she look like- besides that she was beautiful?"
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| − | | |
| − | [19:44] [ST] "Hair the color of a raven's wing. Long. Pale skin. Small nose. Eyes like a doe, big...dark..." Air whistles and gurgles through the hole in the thing's chest. "Small. Slender. Young enough to be my daughter."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:45] [Hare] "What did you do the day before you died?"
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| − | | |
| − | [19:47] [Fish] "Better ask why he was killed" he comments.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [19:47] [ST] "Woke. Worked. Met Cathak Sora. Discussed Calibration. Went to temple, spoke with Brother Thunder. Promised Shimmering Twilight employment. Drank. Ate at Temple. Saw her on the way home. Took her home. Saw the knife, not fast enough."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:49] [Hare] "I don't know if the bones would know." She chews her lip. "Where did you first see her?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [19:50] [ST] "On the streets. That night."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:50] [ST] The bones give one last shudder, a horrible, convulsive, abortive gasp, and then lie still in their shroud of flesh.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [19:51] [Hare] "Helpful. Very helpful," she tells the bones sarcastically. That was the problem with talking with bones; they never seemed very motivated to find the hand that killed them.
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| − | | |
| − | [19:52] [Hare] "I wonder if we'll find that Nellen's dead girl had black hair, big eyes, and a small nose?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [19:53] [Fish] He rubs his chin, stubble scratching at his hand. "She killed him, then got offed by someone else? I didn't see her name anywhere in his papers, so he didn't have a working relationship with her."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:54] [Hare] She ticks names off on her fingers. "Cathak Sora. Brother Thunder. Shimmering Twilight."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [19:54] [Hare] "Lets take one more look, shall we? Betrayal...I wonder if he turned to the Immaculates, away from...some other religious group."
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| − | | |
| − | [19:58] [Hare] "He was an Immaculate alright," she concludes finally."What a boring home. Not even a bit of rose from the lady of drafts." She swivels one more lense over her glasses and looks around for ectoplasm.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [20:02] [Hare] "No ghosts," she concludes finally. "Let's go."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [20:02] [Fish] While she is doing that, Fish wanders to the window, glancing at the frame trying to see if someone could have squeezed through. The doors had been locked and unchallenged, so the window might have been the attack point.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [20:06] [Fish] "Noone came in through here. Hey, I wonder, even if it isn't the victim, he might have brought another courtesan home. We should maybe look at her workplace." He shares a leer with Jek.
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| − | | |
| − | [20:07] [ST] "So long as you don't tell the Dragon lady I was there when the Anathema came to town. She's been asking around." Jek shrugs. "Those are not the kind of questions you want from a woman."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [20:07] [Hare] "We'll need to check the other corpse now anyway," Faithful Hare says equably, unscrewing her special lenses. "You can drool over her body all you like."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [20:08] [Fish] He laughs, a guffaw sounding slightly unnatural to his voice. "Wouldn't want to get the evidence wet."
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| − | | |
| − | [20:09] [Hare] Faithful Hare makes a face. She wondered about her fellows sometimes. She really did.
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| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | Session Close: Sun Jul 20 20:21:52 2008
| |
