It had taken a moment for Des to even comprehend what "Meg" had been saying. She had been taken with a wave of fury that shocked her at the woman's disrespectful attitude - and then shocked again when she realized her shadow lay across Meg's, and Desdemona could feel her fear. She almost missed the revelation about Broom, being busy not screaming in sudden revulsion and terror and trying to levitate off the floor, away from her shadow.
Jumpy already, she was on a hair trigger to do... what?
Swallowing down fury and fear alike, Desdemona said evenly, "Surely this isn't an example of proper procedure, is it now? Is this what my family name means to the Agency - an invitation to be treated as a common criminal? We've agreed to meet you halfway, and surrender our weapons - such as we can. If you truly don't intend for this meeting to come to blows, then perhaps you will accept my promise that we do not wish it, either." If her tone was a tiny bit strained, well, she was apparently a noble, and being spoken to without the respect due her position. Whatever it was.
....I don't recognize you. I don't know why you're afraid of us. After what we've seen, I don't blame you. But I do ask that you make an effort to understand what we've been through, and not ask us to make ourselves completely vulnerable. Not right now."[/b]
Meg's frown lessened a bit and she looked a little uncertain. Once again, she looked to Winter for direction but it looked like Winter was waiting to see how things turned out. The young woman relaxed a little bit. "I... don't know about amnesia, but if you're telling the truth..."
Swallowing down fury and fear alike, Desdemona said evenly, "Surely this isn't an example of proper procedure, is it now? Is this what my family name means to the Agency - an invitation to be treated as a common criminal? We've agreed to meet you halfway, and surrender our weapons - such as we can. If you truly don't intend for this meeting to come to blows, then perhaps you will accept my promise that we do not wish it, either." If her tone was a tiny bit strained, well, she was apparently a noble, and being spoken to without the respect due her position. Whatever it was.
The young woman whipped her head to Des so quickly she risked breaking her own neck, and she visibly tensed in the face of Des's even tone. "Lady, the entire town knows the Count is gone. You... you don't have the authority to, to...
Broom didn't understand why Meg was scared of them, but she understood that there was something wrong.
"Wait, one moment." She carefully reached into her pack and fished around for a moment before her fingers closed on the small bundle of cloth resting at the top, just where she expected it to be. This pack was great!
"You seem worried about all of us but We don't know why. We will wear the shackles, but We would like to talk with this." She carefully unfolded the cloth to reveal the little block of incense with the charred corner that had been used to talk with the onerigen doctor. "It will help everyone understand each other much better and help let everyone know that everyone else is telling the truth or not."
That was the final straw. While Broom unfolded the cloth, Meg drew her sword and danced a pair of steps back from the doorway to take up a fencing stance. "Stop! Stop!" She turned her head a little to shout back into the building. "Help at the door! I need help here!"
She turned to Winter "You know what this is. You can be in charge of lighting it and if Meg is worried then you could stay out of it and make sure everything is Ok if you didn't want to join in."
Broom hesitated for a moment "Winter, Meg knows who we all are and everyone knows We have magic and people in town recognized John and Des. Did you know who we were when we first met in the Asylum?"
Winter held up a hand to Broom and touched the Pharasmin symbol at her throat. "Everyone, be calm."
Meg visibly relaxed, dropping out of her stance, the tip of her rapier sagging to the floor. Winter gestured at the young woman. "Meg, please. That's enough. I don't know who these people were before Briarstone, but I know who they are now. I vouch for them. We need to come in. The children need something to eat. Please, get Miss Wrentz and if Accuser Omari isn't here then anyone else who came in with us. Please. We can wait in the small library. Put your sword away."
Meg nodded. "Alright. If you vouch for them, Investigator, of course they can come in." She glanced at the group again, not making eye contact with any of the four amnesiacs but smiling at the children, and nodded. "You know where the library is. I'll go make arrangements for food and refreshments and get Miss Wrentz."
Meg sheathed her rapier and turned to head down a hallway deeper into the building, allowing the group to enter. Winter gestured for the children and adults to enter before her. "Head to the right," she murmured to them, "there's a small library. We'll wait there."
The large building turned out to be very nicely appointed, in dark hardwoods and with elegant furniture lit by gas lanterns. The first room was a large, two story foyer with a pair of hallways and a few doors leading off of it. Through the open door to the right was a small, comfortable library with large windows and bright walls to maximize the amount of light.
Brenton and Bates both immediately went to lay down on separate couches, while the older Maeve ran to the bookshelves with a little cry of joy. The adults all looked rather bewildered by the events of the last few minutes and settled down silently without comment to Winter or the group.
For her part, Winter waited for the four amnesiacs to settle down themselves before asking "Do you have any idea what that was about?"
Broom froze the moment that the sword was drawn. When she offered the incense to Winter, her eyes never left the blade.
Then suddenly, Winter said some words and she felt... nothing? She wasn't scared, or excited or anything really. It was odd, but she wasn't even confused by this.
She followed Winter into the library and... didn't feel happy at the sight of the clean and well ordered room. She wasn't indifferent, the room looked perfectly acceptable, but nothing more than that.
"It would still be to our mutual benefit if any subsequent dialogue was conducted under the effects of the incense to ensure our discussions were as open and candid as possible while minimizing the chances of misunderstandings."
She turned to Winter "We have no recollection of any events prior to our awakening in the asylum. Our memories begin at that moment."
As Winter's wave of calm flooded over Reine, a small part of her inner rage tried to resist, but simply... went quiet. Reine gave Winter an odd look, but didn't object.
"Having everyone be able to read one anothers' minds might not quell as many fears as you think it should, Broom," Reine said, mildly. "Especially with the children in the room."
Reine nodded at Winter. "Thank you for vouching for us. I appreciate what you said about us. It would be nice to be able to know who these people think we are - or were. Maybe we could engender a bit more trust."
The last sentence was said with a tinge of bitterness, as she noted the lamps in the chandeliers wicking to life with the almost-imperceptible hiss common to gaslights. The room was already well lit by the sunlight coming through the windows. The only reason Reine could imagine - and it didn't take much imagining - for the lamps to be turned on was to banish shadows. One shadow, in particular. Reine was certain it would take a minute or two for them to get to full illumination, though she didn't know how she knew that.
"Whatever they believe about us, they seem to know quite a lot, and that leaves us at a distinct disadvantage."
Broom smiled a little bit as she felt the spell wear off. It was almost like the warmth returning. "That was a strange sensation."
She took a moment to take in the room again. It was interesting to compare how she had reacted to the room on a purely intellectual level, and how she felt about the room now.
"We weren't thinking about the children. You don't think they would find it fun? We just meant for us and Winter's friends. Its more than just being able to talk with our minds, it also helps everyone understand each other. It makes it harder to lie and easier to find things we all agree on so we can all learn to trust each other better."
With her fear wiped away for a few precious moments by Winter's blessed divine light, Desdemona relaxed and followed Meg and the others into the library. Though the unnatural calm didn't last long, once she noticed that the lights were growing brighter, she took a steadying breath and casually moved to stand under one, so that she at least didn't have to wonder what her shadow was doing... so long as it behaved.
It didn't escape her that it was odd for the lights to be turned up for them in the middle of the day, but she couldn't summon anything but gratitude in her relief. Not even worry as to what the shadows might have done to deserve that response.
With the shadow confined to directly under her somewhat-the-worse-for-wear dress, she turned her attention to what the others were saying.
"I'm sorry, Broom... I must agree with Reine. What lurks in... in the mind, perhaps should stay there." Her faintly distracted smile was back, but her grey eyes were clear and serious. She definitely didn't want to offer the darkness any path into another's mind, as it had taken hers.
Though, considering Broom's odd powers, perhaps the source of that request was suspect...
No! She wouldn't be consumed by paranoia. She Would Not.
Turning to Winter with the determination of residual defiance, she quietly said, "I rather suspect that none of us will be able to explain that confrontation, in our current state. What's this about the Count being gone, do you know?" With mighty restraint, she didn't fish directly for the Count's name.
Broom was visibly disappointed as she wrapped up the little lump of incense and returned it to her pack.
John stays steady is the face of Winter's magic.
He also notices the light brightening and guesses that it has something to do with Desdemona's shadow.
"These folk do seem to know who we are and seem scared of us." John tells Winter.
"I only remember bits and pieces of what occurred in my time before the asylum, and I'm not sure if the memories are real. I seem to remember lots of violence and bullying people, but that sort of thing isn't in my nature." John says.
"I also feel like I know Thrushmore like the back of my hand, but I don't really remember being here."
Winter nodded at Reine and the others. "I can't reconcile what Meg is saying with what you did at the asylum and what I've observed of you and your other friends." She shook her head. "We knew Lowls had some hirelings but didn't have dossiers on them. That was part of Accuser Omari's group's job when we went out to Briarstone, to gather information on Lowls's people."
She gave Desdemona a long, considering look. "But I will say that according to the Principality's Roll of the Peerage, Count Lowls is the only recognized noble in Versex County. And we have no record of him marrying or having a child. So the fact that Meg is calling you a Lady is quite odd, unless you're from elsewhere." The investigator shook her head. "So many strange things happening here. I hope Accuser Omari's group has made some headway."
Winter shook her head again at Des's question. "I don't know what she meant about the Count being gone. We were going to gather information around town before the Accuser wanted to meet with him. When I left for Briarstone, our group thought he was up in Iris Hill."
"Well, we need to figure out where Lowls went to. We all owe him for locking us up in that place with Zandulus and the rest of the crazies." John says.
Broom listened to Winter and then was lost in thought for a few moments. "We don't understand what you were doing. Maybe We are just confused? Meg and the town people know who we are, but you have never seen us before. You just know us by reputation? So you are from out of town? You came to Thrushmoor to investigate Lowls. Do you work for the king? You were at Briarstone to find out information about us. You knew Lowls brought people to the asylum?"
Winter nodded. "Accuser Omari was assigned to investigate Count Lowls's activities here. I can't get into the specifics of it, but it involved a dispute over the amount of taxes flowing into the Prince's treasury. I was a part of the Accuser's squad. The Accuser wanted to keep a low profile when we first arrived, so we came here to consult with the Sleepless Agency."
"Miss Wrentz gave us a brief precis on the Count's activities and I was dispatched with the team to check in on his interests at Briarstone Asylum. From the records you recovered, it seems evident to me that Count Lowls was primarily interested in the artist Ulver Zandalus and his possible connection to the Dimension of Dreams."
"I will be honest with you- I have no idea why the Count left you at the asylum or how you contracted your amnesia. It seems outside the possibility of coincidence that all of his trusted hirelings could become amnesiac at the same time without something nefarious going on."
Broom fell silent, mulling over what Winters had revealed. The implications were both disturbing and exciting.
"So, we worked for Count Lowls. All of us."
She paused as she tried to recollect what they knew of the Count from scraps of information gathered at the Asylum.
"He was interested in Zandalus. He made deals with the doctor at Briarstone to trade rare books and information for access to Zandalus. It seemed he might have been trying to help Zandalus since the book he gave to the doctor had to do with curing people of nightmares.
Could he have sent us there to help us? Or were we sent there as punishment?"
She looked back to Winter "What kind of a man was the Count? It sounds like he didn't like paying taxes, but anything else?"
Broom was getting more concerned about what kind of man Lowls was, because she was concerned about what kind of person she used to be.
But at the same time another thought kept crossing her mind, she was a doctor!
"Wait!" she suddenly exclaimed. "But what about that dream we all shared with the incense where we were all chained and being traded as slaves? If we were Lowl's hirelings, then what was that dream about?"
Broom fell silent, mulling over what Winters had revealed. The implications were both disturbing and exciting.
"So, we worked for Count Lowls. All of us."
"I beg your pardon?!" Desdemona snapped, incensed, but was forced to trail off since she wasn't sure what she was upset about. Had she been working for this Count Lowls? Was that a bad thing? Were they related?
By the uncaring gods, were they married?
She wasn't sure why that thought made her uneasy, but consoled herself with the knowledge that if the Count's wife had ended up in an asylum, she surely would have been tipped off by Meg.
She paused as she tried to recollect what they knew of the Count from scraps of information gathered at the Asylum.
"He was interested in Zandalus. He made deals with the doctor at Briarstone to trade rare books and information for access to Zandalus. It seemed he might have been trying to help Zandalus since the book he gave to the doctor had to do with curing people of nightmares.
Could he have sent us there to help us? Or were we sent there as punishment?"
She looked back to Winter "What kind of a man was the Count? It sounds like he didn't like paying taxes, but anything else?"
Broom was getting more concerned about what kind of man Lowls was, because she was concerned about what kind of person she used to be.
But at the same time another thought kept crossing her mind, she was a doctor!
"An honest appraisal of that would be most welcome," Desdemona agreed. "What is the Count like? What use could he possibly have for a group such as this? I'd... I'd like to speak with people who knew us a bit more. Meg, perhaps?"
Reine, having heard everything so far, simply moved to the library entrance. She leaned against the wall beside the door, her face pensive, she was clearly thinking.
Unconsciously, without realizing she was doing it, she began to hum.
The tune was soft, and halting, and seemed to have no discernable melody or through-line. Her voice was lovely - if barely audible to any of the others - but overall it was more "pleasant sound" than anything anyone would call actual music.
"An honest appraisal of that would be most welcome," Desdemona agreed. "What is the Count like? What use could he possibly have for a group such as this? I'd... I'd like to speak with people who knew us a bit more. Meg, perhaps?"She looked back to Winter "What kind of a man was the Count? It sounds like he didn't like paying taxes, but anything else?"
Broom was getting more concerned about what kind of man Lowls was, because she was concerned about what kind of person she used to be.
But at the same time another thought kept crossing her mind, she was a doctor!
Winter shook her head. "We didn't have much information on him as a person. As a nobleman, he wasn't involved in court politics and before this hadn't done anything to garner the throne's attention. He had a small reputation for amateur occult research but was not considered much of a scholar, from what we gathered before we came here."
"The rest of my team and Miss Wrentz will have more information for us."
Reine, having heard everything so far, simply moved to the library entrance. She leaned against the wall beside the door, her face pensive, she was clearly thinking.
Unconsciously, without realizing she was doing it, she began to hum.
[dice=Perform:Sing]1d20+7
The tune was soft, and halting, and seemed to have no discernable melody or through-line. Her voice was lovely - if barely audible to any of the others - but overall it was more "pleasant sound" than anything anyone would call actual music.
To Reine's surprise, as she absently looked around while she sang, she found a serious looking older woman leaning against the wall just outside the door, listening in on the conversation. When she saw that Reine had noticed her she straightened up, tugging at the lapels of her jacket, and entered the library as if nothing was amiss.
Winter noticed her immediately. "Miss Wrentz, a pleasure to see you." She looked past the older woman to the door but no one else entered and Winter frowned.
"Is everyone out?"
The older woman shook her head and said in the calm tones reserved for delivering bad news, "Accuser Omari, the rest of your fellow investigators left behind after your team broke off, and a few of my own people went up to Fort Hailcourse the day before yesterday to enlist the assistance of the Magistrate's people and haven't returned. They are presumably either captured or killed."
Winter, unflappable in the face of otherworldly monsters, dopplegangers, and ghouls, looked shaken, and she turned to find a chair to sit.
Broom sighed "We just escaped the island, and now we are in the middle of more trouble right away. We didn't even have a chance for one night of rest."
Broom looked around the nice little room, shrugged helplessly and sighed again "Should We go try to find the Magistrate and Winter's friends? Helping the authorities sounds like a good idea."
"Good idea?" Reine asked, still in her position closer to the door than Miss Wrentz. "Yeah, it's always good to help out the authorities. They've shown us so much trust and support so far. And going out to find a group of theoretically competent people who've been "presumably captured or killed" without even having had the chance to catch a nap after what we've been through...?" Reine shrugged. "You've got an odd definition of "good ideas," Broom."
John tries to remember what he knows about the Magistrate in Thrushmore.
"Getting some rest and information before take off in a different direction does sound like a good idea."
"Also, we need to figure out why everyone seems to think we're so dangerous."
Looking even paler than usual, Broom shook her head from her seat. "No, of course not. You're not part of the Accuser's group. If you went up to Fort Hailcourse now they'd just turn you away."
Wrentz nodded. "Especially you. The Count has disappeared, so you have no official standing here anymore." She looked at Broom, Des, and John but didn't turn around to look at Reine standing behind her.
Winter sighed, looking like she wanted nothing more than to just put her head down and go to sleep. "I may be able to get you added to the Accuser's writ. I just need to talk to someone." She looked up at Cesadia Wrentz. "Are the Accuser's things still in his room? May I look through them?"
Wrentz nodded. "Of course." She looked at the children and other adults from Briarstone. "You can use the rooms nearest those set aside for Accuser Omari's unit. Please, take the children and your other helpers. We'll have food and drink sent up." Unlike when she'd been talking to the four amnesiacs, Cesadia's voice was soft and compassionate. For a moment, at least.
She looked at Broom, Des, John, and Reine, this time turning to look at the woman by the door. "You four, stay." Her compassionate tone was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.
Tolman, Mura, and Airwynn gathered up the children and Winter wearily rose from her chair, looking like she'd aged decades in the last few minutes. The dark haired woman nodded at the four amnesiacs. "We'll get this sorted out," she said. "But we all need to rest first. Just give me some time to get it straightened out. You should talk to Miss Wrentz."
The exhausted Briarstone survivors trundled out of the library, leaving Broom, Des, John, and Reine alone with Cesadia Wrentz. "Sit, and let's the five of us talk."
Broom cocked her head and looked at Reine quizzically. Winter had trusted them and treated them well. Meg just thought they were other people, so it was understandable if she was suspicious. And Winter had seemed to think that Cesadia could help them, and Broom trusted Winter.
And why wouldn't you want to help the magistrate? It was his job to help keep everyone safe.
But it was true that maybe everyone else was more tired that she was. In truth, she had done very little against the Tatterman and although some nice rest would be welcome, she felt good enough to keep going if she had to.
After Winter left, Broom piped up "There are still a lot of people on the island. We should send someone to help them"
"I don't know what this Lowls fellow has been up to, but Magistrate Padgett up at the fort has always been a straight arrow." John says.
"Why would he do anything to your investigators?" he asks.
Reine reluctantly surrendered her position by the door as Winter and the others left the room.
She lifted an eyebrow at Wrentz's commanding tone, but didn't argue.
Though Reine chose her seat to ensure that she had a clear view of most of the room and her back to the bookshelves, rather than a window, she did make sure she was the last one to sit, other than Wrentz. A semi-subtle message to the other woman that Reine was being agreeable, and not obeying commands.
Reine did not speak at first, instead listening to the others. Another eyebrow lifted at John's pronouncement about the Magistrate. How did he remember that particular bit of information? She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath, reminding herself that there was information to be gained here. Information that she didn't have - which put her at a significant disadvantage. Another breath, to calm the surge of anger at that thought.
Eventually, she opened her eyes once more and looked to Miss Wrentz, waiting for the woman's answer to both Broom's suggestion and John's question.
Desdemona also bristled at Wrentz' orders, but it only showed in the tightening of her mouth and the narrowing of her eyes. It wouldn't do to be so gauche as Wrentz in response, however, so she held her peace - though like Reine, she satisfied her personal sense of defiance by delaying seating herself for several long moments. No doubt the act was lost on the likes of the woman, but as Desdemona gracefully lowered herself into a seat, she imagined the time would come in which she might express her displeasure in a more... direct fashion.
She restrained herself from suggesting that Wrentz' investigators had received just desserts if their behavior was the like of Wrentz'. Barely.
...Where was this anger coming from? She glanced at Reine sidelong. Was the woman's rage... contagious? It wasn't hot fury, though. More like... cold. Cold fury.
John takes a seat.
Wrentz raised an eyebrow at Reine and Desdemona's unspoken challenge but didn't address it with words. Instead she just waited for all four of them to sit before taking her own seat.
Wrentz nodded at Broom. "Thank you, Doctor. We will make sure everyone on the island is taken care of."
The older woman turned to John. "Magistrate Padgett is indeed a dependable man. In fact, we suspect he is the reason the crown sent a Royal Accuser in the first place. Unfortunately, we have been informed that the Magistrate is out of town on official business." Her expression said everything that needed to be said about her faith in that information. "Currently, Constable Cesyll is in charge of the fort. We were also informed that the majority of the mercenary militia force has left after prolonged lack of payment. Which begs the question: what loyal and generous mercenaries stayed behind to man the fort without pay?"
"Oh yeah .... Cesyll .... I know him."
Broom was relieved when Wrentz assured her that the people they had left behind would be taken care of. "Um, We are just Broom right now. If We remember more We might be Doctor again, or even Mashiki once more, but right now We are just Broom."
She leaned forward and listened intently as the older woman addressed John. At John's reply, she glanced at him quizzically. How come he suddenly sounded like he knew everyone around town? Was he getting his memories back?
And while she was thinking about it, Des was acting a little strange as well. Something was going on.
She unfocused her mind for a moment and stared off into space to see if she could remember anything about what was being talked about.
She found plenty of thoughts about Padgett, but there seemed to be a lot of people named Padgett. While there was one or two that seemed to know he was a magistrate, it was impossible to figure out which Padgett all the various minds were thinking about.
Giving up on that she sought out the name Cesyll.
Desdemona sniffed quietly at Wrentz' description of the magistrate, but was largely lost in thought. She... remembered Padgett. Though, she couldn't for the life of her think of the context in which she had known him.
John and Broom's words caught her attention again, and she refocused on the conversation.
"It does sound strange that the mercenaries remained behind, unpaid," she agreed thoughtfully. Her recollection of Padgett was that of a penny-pincher, among other unpleasant qualities. Surely the mercenaries had been on a short fuse of patience with their pay being delayed... why would any of them stay?
What with Padgett himself missing, her suspicion was that the mercenaries were being paid, just not by him. She wasn't familiar enough with the area, regardless of what Meg had said, to know any "Constable Cesyll" or similar lower-ranking officials... but it certainly seemed suspicious.
She would quite like to speak with the vanished Count. It would seem that a visit to the fort was in order, regardless of who held it now, or for what reason. But with foul play possible, it would be best if she had, as the adventurers in novellas said, backup.
"Reine, a visit to the fort might prove valuable in recovering our lost memories," she reasoned, hoping the other woman's anger wasn't clouding her mind... or Desdemona's for that matter. "If miss Wrentz would be so kind as to equip us adequately for such a mission, we might do them the favor of inquiring what has happened to Accuser Omari's team along the way. Would that be agreeable to you, miss Wrentz? I'm sure the good Doctor Broom and Mr. Grimm would be in favor of such a venture in that case, would you not?" she asked, turning to look at Broom and John. "Of course, without a bit of aid, we might find it difficult to attempt such a mission... what with our current state of impairment. You wouldn't wish to send us unarmed into the lion's den, would you, miss Wrentz?"
Broom was relieved when Wrentz assured her that the people they had left behind would be taken care of. "Um, We are just Broom right now. If We remember more We might be Doctor again, or even Mashiki once more, but right now We are just Broom."
Cesadia gave Broom an odd look. "As you wish, Broom."
"Reine, a visit to the fort might prove valuable in recovering our lost memories," she reasoned, hoping the other woman's anger wasn't clouding her mind... or Desdemona's for that matter. "If miss Wrentz would be so kind as to equip us adequately for such a mission, we might do them the favor of inquiring what has happened to Accuser Omari's team along the way. Would that be agreeable to you, miss Wrentz? I'm sure the good Doctor Broom and Mr. Grimm would be in favor of such a venture in that case, would you not?" she asked, turning to look at Broom and John. "Of course, without a bit of aid, we might find it difficult to attempt such a mission... what with our current state of impairment. You wouldn't wish to send us unarmed into the lion's den, would you, miss Wrentz?"
Wrentz gave Desdemona a very level look, her eyes tracking down to the decorated hilt of Des's magical dagger before slowly and deliberately looking over at the very heavily armed John- who hadn't, as Meg had requested, been disarmed at the door- and then at Broom and Reine, both of whom seemed well enough equipped at the moment. There was a long, drawn out silence as she made her point, but she eventually looked back at Des.
"Lady Desdemona, your people don't seem particularly poorly provisioned to me. But if you're asking for assistance, I would be happy to provide it. In exchange for assistance of your own. With the militia inoperative, the situation in town is rapidly deteriorating. With the people I lost alongside Accuser Omari's group- gods grant they're merely imprisoned for some reason- I don't have enough people to put out all the fires that are flaring up."
"You help me and I'll help you. What do you say, Lady?"
"Well, that says a lot about how you think," Reine said, though there wasn't much rancor in it, just pointed observation. For those who'd been with her in the asylum, her tone was downright reasonable. "We just escaped from a mental institution that was under the sway of unnatural and murderous forces. Yes, we have weapons. Weapons that we had to use to get ourselves and the other survivors out. But we don't have food. We don't have clothes that aren't covered in the grime and filth of undead and other creatures too horrible to describe. We have no safe place to stay that we know of, and we apparently have enemies in this town that we don't know and won't recognize. Judging by how we've been greeted so far, we don't have many friends - if any at all. Oh, and we haven't had a decent nights' sleep for... who knows how long? What seems like a few days, at least."
She sighed and raised a placating hand. "I can't speak for all of us, but I imagine we'll be willing to help you. And it sounds like things cannot wait for us to find a hot bath and a week of sleep. But some decent food, and possibly some clean clothes would be appreciated, as a start. Unless, of course, you're expecting us to use our weapons to acquire food from anyone we're strong enough to take it from?"
"... We don't have clothes that aren't covered in the grime and filth of undead and other creatures too horrible to describe..."
Broom suddenly looked at Reine, eyes wide with a look of mild distress as she examined Reine's attire. Had she been doing a poor job?
Wrentz nodded. "Food, clothes, baths, and a secure place to sleep, I can do for you before any quid pro quo. Investigator Klacza vouched for you, after all. And the very fact that you're lamenting not having friends in this town tells me more than anything else you've said that your amnesia is real." She shook her head. "Either that or you're a better actress than you were before you went to Briarstone."
Broom paused her inspection for a moment as she tried to figure out if Wrentz was trying to make a jest. "So, We were a Doctor, Des was a Noblewoman and Reine was an... actress?" she asked quizzically. "So then what was John?"
AS Reine runs down the list of the group's needs, John pipes up: "Healing magic as well ... we're all very formidable, but we need some way to heal ourselves up if we get hurt."
"We've got wealth and goods to trade, we just need a contact who can sell us what we need."
Broom paused her inspection for a moment as she tried to figure out if Wrentz was trying to make a jest. "So, We were a Doctor, Des was a Noblewoman and Reine was an... actress?" she asked quizzically. "So then what was John?"
Cesadia pursed her lips and looked like she was restraining herself from saying something for a moment before finally speaking. "You made a point of having everyone call you Doctor. Not that you interacted with anyone from town very often. You spent most of your time in Iris Hill with the Count."
She looked at Desdemona. "You and the Count both directed everyone to address you as Lady. As far as I know, no one has been provided with the provenance of your title."
The older woman turned to look at Reine. "As far as I know, you are not an actress, no. Everyone calls you Rain, no title or surname. It may be a nickname or a moniker, I do not know. People... do not like to talk about you."
"As for John..." Cesadia glanced at Red Destiny for a heartbeat before turning back to Broom. "Bloody John is what everyone in town calls him. Of the four of you, his reputation in town may be the worst." Her eyes flicked back to John for the briefest of moments. "He nearly beat one of my people to death less than a year ago."
"I could go on, Broom, but I can't see it being particularly fruitful. Your time at Briarstone seems to have made a remarkable change to your personalities."
AS Reine runs down the list of the group's needs, John pipes up: "Healing magic as well ... we're all very formidable, but we need some way to heal ourselves up if we get hurt."
"We've got wealth and goods to trade, we just need a contact who can sell us what we need."
Cesadia looked over at John before looking away again; she didn't seem to want to make eye contact with him. "You can sell your trade goods at the High Mart, no doubt. For healing magic, you'll want the infirmary in the New Chapel or Ruoy's healer's house."
She looked at Reine again. "I can make sure you're fed, that you have a safe place to sleep and leave your things, and get you clothes and other sundries. Anything more substantial than that, we'll have to see."
"Bloody John ...." John says surprised.
"I don't remember that .... it doesn't sound like me." he says to no one in particular.
"But we all worked with or for this Count Lowls fellow?" he asked Cesadia. "How long were we here with him before he left us in Briarstone without our memories?"
To everyone else: "Do any of you know what a skum is? I just remembered fighting and killing one here, but I don't know when or why?"
Desdemona sniffed again; she had been rather more interested in the healing magic that John suggested than other sundries, but she couldn't deny the wave of relief that the idea of proper clothing and a clean, soft bed brought her, and her expression eased.
"Is there anyone... local, that we might speak with to learn more of this Count Lowls?" she inquired, wondering at her own attitude. Was it her infection with the darkness? Was that what was in play? Had it changed who she was?
...And, considering what Wrentz said of them all, was that a bad thing?
Ridiculous. She would put it out of her mind.
"I don't recall anything about any... uncouth creatures," she said carefully, eyeing the gaslights. They weren't dimming, were they?
No. Now they were shining as brightly as before, she was sure of it.
Cesadia gave Des a long look before finally sighing and shaking her head. "This is... very strange, talking to you all like this. You are the person who knows the Count best, Lady. Other than you, Melisenn Kororo at Iris Hill, the Count's new majordomo. She has refused every request I've made to meet with her since it became known the Count left Thrushmoor. Maybe she'll meet with you, though, Lady."
"Beyond the Count's staff at Iris Hill, or Magistrate Padgett, I would have said Lilia Papin at the Booklayer, but she went out of business when the Count left and it became clear he wasn't going to be paying off his tab. The Count was at her bookshop more frequently than any other place in Thrushmoor. She moved to Rozenport, though."
"Honestly, the Count kept to himself here in Thrushmoor. From what I gather, he has a wide network of contacts in the occult and academic communities, maintained through the royal post, but his interest in Thrushmoor itself was always slim."
"Bloody John ...." John says surprised.
"I don't remember that .... it doesn't sound like me." he says to no one in particular.
"But we all worked with or for this Count Lowls fellow?" he asked Cesadia. "How long were we here with him before he left us in Briarstone without our memories?"
Cesadia nods. "All of you came in on the same ship, five years ago. My sources say from Okeno, but none of you were in chains and the ship didn't fly the yellow sail. And I was told you had been taken to Briarstone exactly 2 weeks ago. Until this moment, you all seemed quite willing servants."
"Five years....." John exclaims.
"That's not possible. I was just in Caliphas with my family and Amelia...." he says with growing uncertainty.
"Wait! We know that name! Okeno is the slave trading place we all remembered when we were sharing thoughts!" Broom exclaimed excitedly. "It really doesn't sound like we were slaves, so maybe, we were all so grateful that he bought us out of that place that we all just agreed to work for him.
It kind of seems that all our answers are at Iris Hill. That sounds like where we should go."
"I'd like to have a look around that bookshop - we saw it on the way in," Desdemona answered once she'd gotten over the shock of being told she was the one who'd known the Count best. If that was so, why had Lowls left her in an asylum, memories gone, no aid to be had? Had he known what was going to happen?
This time, she was quite sure the anger she felt was her own.
"However, I do agree that Iris Hill sounds like a spot to investigate, afterwards, though I suspect it's a bit of a serpent's nest, now." She turned her stormy gaze on Wrentz. "Thank you for being so forthcoming. I would say we remember our friends, but..." She gestured helplessly, a small smile on her lips at her little joke.
Cesadia didn't seem to see the humor in the situation. She just shook her head. "That remains to be seen. Room and board are gratis on Investigator Klacza's word, as I've said, but trust is something that needs to be earned. You seem to know what you want to do next, now let me tell you what I would like from you. "
"The Count and Magistrate Padgett are gone, for no one knows how long. The mercenaries have left town, and Constable Cesyll is unwilling to send those who remain out of the Fort. People are looking to the Agency for help, but I don't have the manpower to do what needs to be done."
"So far we've only talked about things pertinent to you. Unfortunately, there have been a rash of disappearances in recent days. People have disappeared off the street every night for the past 2 weeks. Even the priestess of New Chapel hasn't been seen for days." Cesadia shook her head. "And while locals are going missing, strangers have been showing up and taking rooms in town. It's damned odd. I don't know how they could be related, but it's a strange coincidence."
The older woman shook her head. "People are even coming to me with problems like a local fearmonger yelling at people at the market and the taverns. Elgrior Nasmeth is wandering around town telling everyone the Briarstone Witch has come back and is the one snatching people off the streets. Dena Gallegos at the Silver Wagon and Emman Gulston at the Stain have both come to me asking me to do something about him, but it's so far down my list it's hardly worth mentioning."
"Another strange thing is these graffiti murals going up all over town. Someone is painting creepy cityscapes on buildings, and it's just adding to everyone anxiety level."
Cesadia grunts and shakes her head. "There you go. If you want to prove to me and the people of this town that you've changed, if you're interested in helping Thrushmoor, I've just given you a list of things you can do to show us you're not the same people we knew."
"Yes, Reine said. "I believe we will accept your generous offer of meals, clothes, etc. Thank you. We've been at least several days without any of those, or any feeling of safety when - if - we slept. And it sounds as if investigating Iris Hill may prove fruitful. But what of the fort? What is it you would include in the quid pro quo you mentioned?"
John leans forward in his seat and says: "People disappearing over the last two weeks? There's bound to be something we can do to figure that out."
Cesadia looked at Reine. "What of the fort? It's unprecedented that the fort is closed in peacetime and the Constable unable to field the militia to help look for missing townsfolk. I don't know what's going on there, but whatever happened it's damned strange."
"As for what I can do for you, the Agency has resources I may be willing to extend to you. I make sure my people are suitably equipped for any eventuality when I send them into the field. And beyond that, we have contacts all over Ustalav and beyond- information gathering is our specialty. You seem to have a lot of questions that I would wager I could help you answer."
The Briarstone Witch was not a legend. She was a Kellid interested in lesser-known cults and occult knowledge. As she shared her esoteric knowledge with Thrushmoor’s settlers, she joined them, and as she exhibited her power, she eventually came to lead them. However, in 4050, the report of a Pharasmin inquisitor accused the people of Thrushmoor of engaging in “perverted rites in mockery of Pharasma and her servants’ names.”
Encouraged by the Briarstone Witch, the people of Thrushmoor split from both the church and the national government. When emissaries of the state marched to retake control of the town, they found the entire population had disappeared. Although a few gruesome stains marked buildings across the empty town, no other evidence of the people was ever found. The unsettling event became known as the Thrushmoor Vanishing and hundreds of years passed before Thrushmoor was resettled.