Perception
"This looks like one of those portal Mirrors, like the one that brought us here! Mama say we all need to get ourselves back to Castorhage lickety split. The rest of them beasties are going to make a snack out of us, if we don't!"
"Gar, take them through, I'll bring up the rear with Lilly. We'll come through after you." Lilly growls angrily.
"Mirror portals to the Between! I'll have to study this further... from the other side, of course."
Vera stands beside Ameila for a moment, sword drawn, as Gar leads everyone else through the portal, then nods at Amealia before going through herself.
Shaking his head, Elliomander hurried through the portal.
The howls of the hounds echo behind the group as, momentarily discombobulated and feeling strangely distorted, they tumble through what turns out to be a curved mirror hanging on the side of one of the many rundown funhouses standing at the edge of Festival’s Great Fayre. It is late in the night, but - as they are every night - the festivities are in full swing. From above them comes the sound of delighted screams as the Great Wheel carries its passengers hundreds of feet above the fayre, giving them the most spectacular view of the city, short of climbing to the top turrets of the Capitol.
And, in a city where people do well to mind their own business, not one person seems to have noticed the group emerging, one by one, from the mirror... but now the sound of the hounds cries, of the hunter's horns and of the clattering of hooves, louder and louder, follows the group through the mirror - and the cold of the Between winter pours through the surface of the 'portal'.
Amelia pulls Lilly into her again. "Sorry Lilly, I'll sew up your wounds again when we have time." She promises, and shudders as the raw hate courses through her veins, as the spirits blood mixes with hers. She steps through the glass, and then once settled on the other side, she brings the scythe around and slices into the fasteners holding the mirror up, letting it fall forward, reflection side down onto the ground.
"I do believe I might be up for smashing as many mirrors as we might find in the near future..." She comments, shaking the ghostly snow off as it begins to fade.
Momentarily disoriented but greatly enjoying the relative heat of Castorhage's night, Vera looks around at the Great Fayre, and then back at the mirror.
A thought then crosses her mind... Does this portal work the same way as the one in Muncy's old apartment...?
She begins to examine the mirror, looking to see if it had been "cracked open" into The Between, in the same way that the mirror in Muncy's apartment had been.
But before she can determine much, Amelia cuts the supports, causing the mirror to crash to the ground.
Vera looks at her companion and says, "They say that breaking a mirror is seven years' bad luck. For our sake, I hope the old adage is wrong."
"Hell, I've lived through more bad years'n that!" Gar huffs. "What's a busted mirror gonna do that life ain't done already?"
Gar waits tensely to see the effects of the broken mirror. He tries to hide his brandishes bastard sword but pointing it toward the rotten wooden flooring and leaning over it, but keeps it ready at his side.
"Damn. Need a fire."
The mirror falls to the floor as Amelia's scythe swings in its perfect arc... the call of the hounds, growing loud enough to draw the quizzical look of a nearby drunkard, is suddenly cut to silence as hundreds of shards explode across the cobbles... the briefest of frost spreads into the mud before it melts to nothing. Staggering away from the group, the drunk shrugs as the noise of the hounds is put down to his fevered imagination...
The moon is high in the sky above the group and, even as the warmth of the city brings relief to the frozen investigators, they realise just how tired they are...
"That'll be a weird chapter in my memoir..." She looks around at the Fayre and her friends. "As much as we all love a circus, I suggest we retire for the night. You're all welcome to stay at my office again."
She then starts walking to the entrance of the Fayre, where she intends to hire a hackney for the trip across town.
Amelia nods. "Certainly. Or we could go to the Bounty Hunter's Guild. I can claim a room for us, and we'd have significantly stouter walls... and a few dozen bounty hunters around in case something goes strange..."
Amelia stops, and carefully takes a few bits of broken mirror and wraps them up in some scraps. "It might be a good idea to have these examined in the morning, to see if we can find anything odd about them, other than they used to connect to the Between."
"Either of those rooms come with a hot bowl of stew?" Elliomander asks as he meticulously wipes the condensation and melting snow from his gun.
"There's also the mirror in Muncy's former flat. It's probably still working."
As the group walks toward the entrance gate, Vera responds to Eliomander. "Alas, I'm not much of a cook, but there's a not-terrible restaurant just around the corner from my office. Better yet, let's find one on the way..."
She then points at a side-street. "'The Rogue's Barrel' is less than a block that way... it's a tavern that serves halfway-decent food as well. Shall we?"
Frill stays with the group. She wasn't used to fancy restaurants and taverns, but after what they'd seen over the last few days, she didn't feel like being alone with just she and Millie. "Some food and a warm drink would be nice. Mama's still chilled to the bone from the Between."
"Agreed," Elliomander mutters turning towards the tavern. When they arrive he orders a hot bowl of stew and a warm tankard of mulled cider.
"So..." he continues after a few swings of his drink, "the Between is a real place, eh? That casts some new light on our investigation..."
"My earlier somewhat wild conjecture no longer seems all that wild." Amelia comments. "For now, if you'll pardon me, I need to tend to some old wounds." She eyes Frill and Vera. "If either or both of you would like to accompany me to the ladies room? It might not be safe for us to travel about in singles just now. Especially in places that might have mirrors."
Frill nods at Amelia. "You are right, sweetheart. This time's not for any of Mama's friends to be all by their lonesome. No telling what might come out from that awful Betwen land.". She stands up, and accompanies her friend to the facilities.
"Of course." Vera accompanies Amelia and Frill.
Vera guards the washroom against unsuspecting customers while Amelia stitches her undead companion back together. "No reason to draw undue attention to ourselves," she explains.
That done, she returns to the others for more of the hearty soup and strong drink. Leaning in conspiratorily, she whispers, "We still have several leads to follow. They include: the key to the sewers, Old Bill's customers, and that old fortune-teller's advertisement. I would pose we first speak with Bill's customers. Tomorrow."
Gar nods, eyeing Vera suspiciously for a moment to ensure she's not some doppelganger sprung from another nether-mirror. "Fair enough. Another night in the Marshall residence?"
Frill agrees. "After our experience in The Between, Mama says we should all bunk up and make sure there are no mirrors around. No telling what creepy buggers would be popping out since we know the secret of that place now."
Amelia nods. "Sleep and then I think the old man's customers? We should also look into who pretended to be the Justician, or why he went, if it was actually him."
Elliomander finally looks up from the empty bowl that had been home to his delightfully warm stew. "We ought to look around the areas where we know attacks happened to see if there are sewer entrances nearby," he offers "though I suppose we could follow up with the customers first- the watch is more likely to catch on to that one, if we want to beat them to it..."
After savoring another sip of his hot cider he tentatively adds, "Should we, uh, report to someone that we saw Muncy disappear into the Between?"
Vera raises an eyebrow at Eliomander's question. "Hmmm... I'm not sure how that would help either us or him. First, we would have to explain why we'd broken into a decades-old crime scene... and then there's the fact that most people don't think the Between is anything more than a story to frighten children."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Correction, people say they don't think the Between is anything more than a story to frighten children. However, almost all of them were children who were frightened by those tales, and they will almost always make warding signs after talking about it. Many more believe in the Between than want to admit so. That is what gives the Between so much of it's power, that belief." Amelia says, and Lilly nods so hard her head falls off her neck and into her hands. She blinks in surprise, and then puts her head back on her shoulders with a twist to get it reconnected correctly.
"Mama's afraid they'd lock us up in the looney bin, telling stories like that. That's something we keep between ourselves, right now babies. Until we can pit together some proof and show the inspectors, Mama don't fancy telling nobody else."
"And, to be completely honest, I didn't believe that The Between actually existed until we were there. Seeing is believing, after all."
For the first time since their fateful meeting with Muncy back at Old Bill's hovel, the group no longer feel like they are being watched... a late meal at the Rogue's Barrel is followed by a tired trek back to Vera's and, having set a watch, the night passes...
The new day arrives and the group, going back over their options, review the list of Old Bill's clients...
- Reg Whitefleck, 13 of High Street... 10 silver for repair and sharpening,
- Ms Smyth, the First of All Saint's Square... 5 silver for sharpening,
- Hieronymous Suisse, 43a of Butcher's Terrace... 20 silver for sharpening - 2 of,
- William Horton, 43b of Butcher's Terrace... Favour.
"Looks like old Willie Horton jumps off that list to Mama. 'Favour' sounds more foreboding than just sharpening...Mama says thats the one to focus on first. One of you real sweet kind can butter them up and find out what they know about our fellow Bill."
Butcher’s Terrace is as grim a place as its name might suggest, clearly taking the carcasses from the abattoir that featured in the group’s earlier investigations, rows upon rows of shopfronts and stalls advertise the cheapest cuts of meat in the district… and it is this drive to sell at the lowest price that drives the marked lack of hygiene around the stalls – blood runs along the open gutters in the centre of the paved street and dogs prowl the periphery…
43b, the home of Old Bill’s customer William Horton, proves to be an upstairs apartment accessed via a rickety external staircase… Mr Horton, who proves to be a grizzled looking fellow… easily a septuagenarian given his rheumy eyes and crooked posture, is at home and apparently rather pleased of the company – and when he is questioned about Old Bill he is effusive about his ‘old friend’, ”Oh yes, William Hughe? A charming fellow – he done all my knives over the years… back when I ran a stall down on the street and then, when I couldn’t work no more, he carried on doing them for free. He’s got a couple of my old kitchen knives even now… hopefully I’ll get them back soon – say, what’s this about?”
"We were asked by someone to look into his death, and try to find out who did something so horrible to such a nice man. We're just following up and trying to earn our keep." Amelia says with a smile.
While the living folks keep the old fart busy, Lilly phases through the roof of his home, moving carefully to avoid being seen, and begins to search the place. Amelia used Detect Magic on her before they split up, so she can sense any magical auras.
There doesn't appear to be anything hidden in William Horton's demeanour, and he is genuinely shocked when Amelia casually drops, into the conversation, the fact that Old Bill is dead... and that his fate was 'horrible'. Suddenly anxious, he grasps the doorframe, "I hadn't heard? What happened to the poor man?"
...and Lilly, moving through the small flat, finds little of interest - it appears, from the surfeit of knives and the heavily marked chopping boards, that Old Man Horton is still engaged in a certain amount of butchery but, beyond that, there is nothing of note here.
"I'm sorry—we had assumed that you'd heard by now. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Bill was murdered in his own home. We are assisting the Watch with their investigation. Right now, we're checking with his most recent customers to see if you'd noticed anything strange or unusual with Bill the last time you saw him. One thing we noticed on your receipt is that payment was listed as 'a favor.' Would you be willing to share the nature of this favor? It might help us find his killer."
"Yes, my apologies, I've been accused of being like a bull in a glass store." Amelia says, as Lilly comes back out of the building out of sight of the owner. "Also, we really couldn't find anything out about Poor Bill in his younger days, and we thought this might be something in his past catching up with him? Did he ever tell you about his days before about 15 or 20 years ago? We can't seem to find anything about him earlier than that... He moved into the neighborhood and nobody knows where he came from."
"Well one thing we've figured, and that's that Old Bill did a lot of favors. A generous spirit, he had, a callin' to help others in their time o' need." Gar adopts a serious, saddened face, the deep lines and scars in his skin accentuating his apparent grief. "And it's in that spirit that we's lookin' to help the old man, now after his passin'. Mr. Horton, if they's...anything ya could think of that might help us fathom the senselessness behind hurtin' such a creature, well I'm sure Ole Bill'd appreciate it. As would we." Gar reaches out and squeezes William's shoulder gently.
Aid another diplomacy
Frill tries to help the situation. "Seems like everyone loved Old Bill, alrighty. Well...almost everyone, with the one what killed him. Anything you could remmeber sure could help this little group bring his killer to justice."
Elliomander seems distracted throughout the conversation, though he makes it a point not to be distracting.
I don't like this one bit... only one way in or out, and that rickety at best... and exposed... if our hidden adversary wanted to take another shot at us this wouldn't be a half bad place to do it...
As the others work to grease the proverbial wheels with Bill the gunman quietly checks the apartment for mirrors.
"I can't think of any enemies he'd have had... honestly, that man never done no-one no mischief - why would anyone do him harm? Maybe it was a theft gone wrong or something? I'm sorry I can't help you anymore than that... is there going to be a funeral or something? I'd like to pay my respects".
...there is little more to be learnt here, William Horton genuinely appears to know little of Old Bill's life - and, as far as Elliomander and Lilly are able to determine, there are no adverse influences at play here.
Vera thanks him for his time and then gestures to the rest that we should move on.
Back on the street, she looks at the remaining list of customers. "Shall we then start at the top and work our way down?"
Gar, in good manners, waits to roll his eyes until his back is to William. Outside, he nods to Vera. "Well that was a waste of air. Yep, on to the next vagrant."
"It was useful if for no other reason than to test our ability to keep someone distracted while Lilly searches their home for clues." Amelia offers with a shrug. "Next on the list... We should get some cold weather gear and keep it on us, just in case..."
Elliomander quietly smirks upon hearing that even Amelia failed to notice that he had gone snooping as well.
"Which route are we taking to the next address?" he asks as they leave, "if we're traveling near any of the old crime scenes we could quickly look around just to see if there are any of the old sewer entrances nearby..."
A cursory knock of the door at William Horton's neighbour, who was also a customer of Old Bill, suggests that they are not at home... and so, with only two other folk on the list, the investigators head to the High Street and to All Saint's Square - where they find two more folk who are surprised by the demise of an apparently benign and reliable knife-sharpener...
It seems, notwithstanding the absence of Hieronymous Suisse at 43a Butcher's Terrace, that this line of inquiry will yield no further clues.
...and, as to old crime scenes, the group have probably passed three or four locations from where children went missing and several alleys where their gruesome remains were subsequently discovered.
"We could come back at night, after work, if Lilly finds anything, but beyond that, I think we need to move on."
Each time the group of investigators passes nearby one of the old crime scenes Elliomander insists they pause to look for old sewer entrances (ones in which the found key should work) within a block or two.
Neither Amelia nor Lilly look happy at the 'crime scenes'. On the third alley, Amelia flatly refuses to enter the alley. "If you want to go, go. We're not going." A bloody tear drips from the corner of her eye unnoticed.
Lilly shakes with anger, and blood flows from her eyes as they glow red. Black lines show under her skin, making the stitches glow.