"The earlier I leave this place, the better. Oh, one last thing, Timmy. I'll be checking this neighbourhood out in a couple of months. If I get a whiff of you pushing drugs again, I'm not going to come knocking again, I'll just shoot you. In the head. That's a promise. I don't care if it's the only thing you know how to do."
Doc doesn't move. "Just a couple more questions, Timothy. Do you think any of the other Pig Kings might know more about what Tony was doing? If so, where might we find them?"
Timmy starts to break down from the interrogation, "My boys don't know nothing that ain't gone through me first, fool! The club is closed. The club is closed!" Then Cass steps out from behind Caedus and speaks up, "Guys! I think Timmy's had enough. I might not like him much more than you, but he was still Antonio's friend and I really think we should leave him alone for now - regardless of how some of us with guns might feel." Cass gives Racine a knowing look.
Despite Cass' feelings, Doc mulls the distinct benefits of killing Timmy right now. Unless the foreign gent was sure the Piggies were under his thumb AND he was certain the murder at the club couldn't be tied to him... it would make sense for him to 'clean house' starting with Timmy and company. And Timmy would spill his guts at the first hint of trouble which could endanger their investigation.
Although Doc's execution method would likely be preferable since it would likely be ascribed to a natural cause - an aneurysm, stroke, or something of that ilk... he just didn't have the heart to steal the kill from Racine. And Cass clearly wouldn't appreciate the wisdom of it.
So Doc sighs and nods his acquiescence to Cass' wishes before heading upstairs. "Just remember, Cass, these 'friends' of Tony's were told he'd be handled and didn't even warn him. And no one is dumb enough to think 'handled' means warned off. Friends don't come any worse than that."
Timmy interjects, offended and upset, "Shove off, old man! What ya'll think we was so worried about? We didn't know where Tony was or what he was up to. You think I wanted any of my boys to die, dog? Sure, Tony wasn't quite up to the game like the rest of us, but was still my boy!"
Doc continues up the stairs, his voice filled with contempt. "Keep telling yourself that, son. Someday you might actually believe it."
Racine gives a long, level look at Cassandra. That is weird. I'd have thought she was up for bloody revenge. Can't she see...? Oh. No, I understand. Antonio was another drug runner, just like this slob here, so she doesn't feel like judging. This whole crew is repulsive. I feel like burning down the whole town.
"Thank your mother I'll be leaving you alive, you worthless beast. And remember what I promised."
Without another word, Racine walks out of the room, the drug box under her arm.
Racine slams her fist against a wall. "Half-dead end. But we can keep tabs on him, and if the old vampire comes looking for him, we'll stake him out."
She chuckles at her own pun.
"Or we can try to learn more about this thing. Know any alchemists around here? Healers? Can't very well go to the force like "What ho, jolly fellows, mind taking a look at these drugs?". We'd get questions."
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"Your not as dumb as you look Tim, well if your not going to open the club maybe we will. That may draw the old guy out. You got some keys you can lend me or should I just break in?"
When Cass speaks up.
"I agree, he is scared. It is now up to me to keep the old man from killing him or any of the others. Best way to do that is draw him out and see what his deal is."
He waits a moment to see if Tim is going to offer up some keys to the place. If not he will leave with the others.
"The drugs won't reveal much, sure its laced with something mystical or alchemical. I think our best play is to go to the club, figure our the magic and disrupt it or somehow trace it. If energy was being siphoned off it had to be stored or travel a line or something."
"We just sell the drugs, fool! The old cat is the one who owns the club and the building - it's his name on the deed, not mine! Now how'm I supposed to sell drugs if that pointy-eared rat just took 'em? Huh?! So just get out my crib, punk, 'fore my mama starts yellin' 'bout the ruckus and attracts some more fools here!" Timmy says after Racine leaves and pulls out another drug cigarette to smoke.
"Why, Frank, I'm flabbergasted and flummoxed! I knew we enjoyed your witty humor and sunny disposition, but since when have you grown to be such a fine estimator of the magical arts? Something mystical or alchemical, wow, this could change thaumatoforensics forever! And your idea of figure out the magic and disrupt it is something utterly unheard of in this field! Now, if only we had a substance that we could analyze to try and figure out the magic... Like some sort of drugs, laced with something mystical or alchemical... A thorough analysis could tell us whether it's some sort of thanatropic residue, ethereal ectoplasm, faeriecraft or the like, but our Magical Savant Frank already determined, at a glance, that the drugs won't reveal much!"
Racine drops the sarcasm while packing the Ultima box in her backpack.
"Paper trail is our best trail. Fake name, sure as can be, but still a lead of sorts. Shall we get to the City Archives?"
Doc strokes his beard absentmindedly, trying to recall any experts he might know in the city who could be trusted for a discreet analysis.
"Knowing more about the drug used would be very helpful. It could give us a point of origin for our 'foreign gent', some idea of what sort of energy is being stolen at the club, and whether his inclinations are mystical or alchemical. Personally, I'd like to know whether we can expect bombs or spells in a face-off."
"So it seems we have several lines of investigation: public records on building ownership, possible B&E, staking out our goat here in case a wolf comes to eat him... and I'd like to visit the constabulary to check on their progress. So, who is up for which task?"
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"No sweat off my back. Look at the s~#* all you want. I know what it does. Not that hard to figure out. The real magic is in the club. The drug simply lowers the body or minds power to fight it. As to what kind of energy well that is the question. My best guess is life force. Come to think of it I bet that may be what did in Tony. The old guy or someone else maybe overdosed him on the drug and just let the magic at the club do the work. I get it though, bunch of rookies afraid to follow their gut or a hunch. We can do it your way. I can go check out public records. See what I can find."
Racine burst into laughter. "Rookie? Oh, oh, that's rich! Wait a second." She hunches her shoulders, her voice turning into an old lady's squeak. "Whippershnappers like you should show shome reshpect for your eldersh! I remember what thish plashe wash like a hundred yearsh ago, a shordid shesspool! And it hasn't changed a bit!"
She straightens back up, or as up as her 5'2'' allows, and stifles some last giggling. "Boyo, I was hunting when you weren't a twinkle in your father's eye yet. But I'll have to admit that your theory is not too far-fetched, though I'd still go for some more proof. Knowing your foe's weaknesses is the most important thing when you hunt.
How about you and Doc hit the archives, then, me and Caedus can get to searching for some tinker to analyze the drugs and we'll rendez-vous at the morgue? Then we can go for the club or update our plans."
Racine and Long remember an occultist by the name of Caspian who offers his services to anyone - for a price, of course. His shop is located in a back alley off Meadows, behind the Bloodhaven Bar where he is known to frequent. Long also knows where to find the local record archives building.
Having once worked as an educator, the filing system is easy for Long to pick up, and he locates city's building records. After some digging, Frank locates a couple of interesting records pertaining to the warehouse. It appears to be owned by a small, private investment firm allegedly based out of Feldspar, an old world nation to the far east. Because it owns a property in the city, a copy of the company's documents are also located here, and reveal that the firm doesn't own any other assets, and otherwise doesn't exist outside of it. However, the company is reportedly owned by an "H. Von Steffan" whose name is on a 220 year old land conveyance record that connects him to an historical site in the nearby town of Chatham.
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With others:
"Cass you may want to go catch up with the girls now. You have seen what we did with Tim, now it will be a little leg work. If you still want to tag along when we go to the club, I can't stop you. You are welcome to come with us now, but it will be pretty boring."
"H. Von Steffan. Well now we have a name to ask around about. What do you think Doc can we do a search here on his name. Could tell us what all he has his hands in."
"Your call, Cassie. Will likely be just a bit of boring asking around before we finally get to something to shoot, but you'll likely be safer with us."
Racine's acute senses are struck by the stench of the Bloodhaven Bar, but she learned to shut them off for the time she had to dwell in the sewers. With only half a grimace, she approaches the man.
"Why, Caspian, just the man I was looking for. Long time no see, let me buy you a drink, yadda yadda. Long story short, I'll need your expertise on some illegal items that were used for some rather unsavory business. Any chance we could get some privacy?"
Tired out from the interrogation of Timmy, Cass decides to go to the store that Beth had mentioned going to in hopes of catching up to decompress.
He leads you out of the bar and to the left down an alley to a locked metal door, which he opens with a dirty but ornate key into a two story apartment with mystical, alchemical or otherwise strange baubles, artifacts and tomes. Despite this, the lower level appears to also be his bedroom, with his couch serving as a bed, and the upper level blocked by a similarly locked door marked by arcane wards and a "No Trespassing" sign. "Welcome to Wayward Spirits, kid. Don't touch anything." he says to Caedus before facing Racine, "Show me the items and 25 gold. If the item is found to be extraordinarily dangerous, I reserve the right to charge extra." The last sentence he says stoically as if it's a disclaimer he has voiced countless times before.
Finally at ease in the item shop, Racine looks around, checking out the trinkets. "Never understood why you keep running this place, Casp. You have the skills and the smarts to get in the academia, or work with hunters. A bit of PR, you'd be a hell of an information broker. Anyway."
She fishes in her pack for the drug box, placing it on the counter together with 25 gold pieces. "Ultima. Apparently the latest fad among the drug addicts, and I suspect it's laced with something exotic. They dealt this at a weird club, with alchemical symbols on the walls and some sort of focusing tablet, and one of the dealers wound up dead. Aged about a century in one night."
She looks at a shelf filled with potions. "So I'd like any info you can get from it. Alchemy, vampiric links, any thaumatropic connection you can tell. I want to know who's using it, and for what. And when you're done, please destroy it. You know I don't like drugs on the streets."
Caspian smirks at Racine's life advice and pockets the money. "So this is Ultima? I'd heard about a new drug hitting the streets - haven't gotten around to trying it, and something tells me I'll be glad I didn't. Let me take this upstairs and I'll take a look." Caspian picks up the block and takes it upstairs. After some time, he comes back down with a look of bad news on his face, "The good news is, it's not magical. Half of it is some kind of refined coca powder, better than anything I've seen before, so whoever made this must be one hell of a chemist. The bad news is, the other half of the powder is human hair, blood and fingernail clippings. I did some digging and by themselves, the materials are inert, but my books say something about how they can be used to form sympathetic and material links with others. References can be found in ancient shamanistic rituals and advanced alchemical grimoires. Based on the other white stuff you brought me, I'd guess it's the latter, and in theory it could do what you've described to me. It's a shame to destroy it, but what's done is done."
"Every time I think I've seen everything gross, this work finds new way of surprising me. So, people snort this guy's hair, and form an alchemical channel: then, he can start siphoning life force or establishing mental dominance of them through the focusing tablet. The fact that it's alchemical also explains why I couldn't find any magic, but it doesn't help me track him down... Hope the others had better luck."
"I'll buy a couple of potions, Casp, if you don't mind, then be on my way. Thanks for the help, and call on me if you need any help. But I have a feeling you won't. Gods know why, you love this place." She smiles at him and kisses him on the cheek before leaving.
You all arrive outside the nearest morgue to the club and share what you've discovered with the others: Ultima is half human shavings and could be used to form a life-draining link with consumers, the man who owns the building is named H. Von Steffan, and he is connected to an historic site nearby dating back over 200 years.
"Half your theory could still be good. If this Von Steffan is using Ultima to establish an alchemical link, he could be siphoning life force through the club. Rythmic music has a sort of an hypnotic effect, there are testimonies of rituals in the unexplored fringes of the world that use drums to induce a mystical trance..."
"Anyway, the body probably won't tell much, especially if it was such an alchemical reaction, we're just likely to find him overdosed on Ultima. I don't remember seeing any magic aura on him, and Doc didn't find marks. But perhaps we might have missed a clue, the coroner could tell us something, worst case we'll have wasted an hour. I say we check the body since we're here already, then head to the club and lay waste to it. I mean, look for clues."
Doc frowns. "Let me handle the morgue, alone. This isn't about what the morticians can tell us. I want to get the body for a proper burial, for Cass' sake, and to ask Tony some questions. I'll be more credible doing the former bit on my own. Also, Von Steffan might be as curious about the investigation as we are... he might be keeping tabs on things here. If so, it would be better for him to think only one old man is asking nosy questions. Don't you agree? If I get lucky, you can help me pick up the body later."
"All right. But I'll wait for you here, in case things go south."
Long enters the building while Racine, Frank and Caedus wait outside. "Hello, sir. What can I do for you? Are you here to claim a body?" asks a uniformed elf behind a desk.
"I certainly hope you can help me. Although I'm not sure if I can claim a body... that's sort of my problem. Let me explain. I was at a party last night around the corner, and a nice old fella named Tony - Antonio - up and died, natural causes it seems. The police investigated, of course, and took him away. Well, I didn't really know him but he seemed a bit down on his luck, and no one at the party seemed to know the old boy - so no 'next of kin' as far as I know. Being a bit older myself, I know what it's like to have fewer days ahead than behind. So I thought I'd do for Tony what I hope someone will do for me someday - give a proper burial." Doc pauses briefly, letting the awkwardness of his explanation set in. "So I guess I was wondering if that's possible at all or did the police find a next of kin for Tony?
"Oh yeah, that guy. I guess he had one last hurrah before he bit the dust, huh? Strangest thing, him. You say his name is Antonio? That's the name we found on his ID, but it says he's a lot younger than he was. Either way, we couldn't find a next of kin for him, regardless of age." The elf says, pondering whether to do as you ask, "You seem like a nice man, so I'll see what I can do. I'll have to check with the coroner's office and the department of social security, which could take a couple of days, but in the meantime, I'll take you to see the body so you can confirm its identity."
The elf leads Long downstairs to the morgue and shows him Antonio's body, "I shouldn't do this, but I'll leave you down here while I go file the paperwork. It'll just be a few minutes, but should be plenty of time to verify the body or do whatever you old guys do." The elf leaves for a few minutes, leaving you alone with the body.
While he's got a few minutes, Long gives the body a more careful examination.
Long checks Antonio over and finds no signs of distress or physical violence. Based on what you know, it seems as though his life force was simply drained out of him.
You arrive at Ascend and recognize the buggy parked outside as the same one parked outside Timmy's mom's house. Ascend is a concrete warehouse with heavy metal warehouse doors (the main entrance and the back), gaslight glowing around the edges. The locks on the doors are brand new industrial-quality locks. However, you see someone sneaking around the side of the warehouse - it's Cassandra!
"Yep. You should learn the value of not being seen. You are conspicuous, you took an open road, you didn't hide yourself much and you were making terrible use of cover. Mostly, you have shown that you don't trust us. Should we start keeping eyes on you, like a little girl?"