The more the Stirge digs around in the various records, papers and rumours, the more he is convinced that Mahaas' fossil - if it is, as it seems, freshly dug from the ground - could only have come from Savant Spitewinter's excavation on the island of Festival. Making his way through a stack of old papers, the Stirge reads that she uncovered this particular site by accident while spending time on Festival with her children. As she strolled the Merry-Go-Round, the streets and boardwalks that lie at the foot of the Festival itself, at low tide she spotted what she thought was an Ancient in a nearby sandbar and, with civic funds secured, soon began to dig furiously from a raft at an exposed embankment of river silt.
Now, two months into the dig, three strange creatures are being uncovered... yet there are rumours that the work has slowed and that the Savant has been subjected to a series of demands from the ne'erdowells of the island.
The next morning, a full twenty four hours into an investigation that has twisted and turned like a noble's labyrinth, the investigators make their way back to the burning ghats on the banks of the Lyme. M'Haajeet is there, tending the single body upon his funereal plinths... it seems that business is slow.
Darc wakes, rubbing his eyes as he looks around the nice room he finds himself. He blinks several times before calling out "Morning Tella, you up." These were strange comfortable surroundings, better than what he was used to, he stretches, wondering if he should start making a good cooked breakfast to keep him going. He smells the pillow, a pretty floral scent greets his nose, before sending his nose to his armpits. His nose creases at the new pungent smell and odor. Could do with a trough, with reasonably clean water, wonder where such a thing is round these parts.
He manages to find enough clean cold and refreshing water to douse his body and wake the end of each nerve, his boy tingling under the touch of the liquid.
Darc follows Tella and the others as they make their way along the deathly waters of the Lyme, both a friend and a foe to Castorage.
Reverting to his lordly persona, Lord Varian arrives at M'Hajeet bright and early, ensuring he arrives before the others.
Once the others arrive, Lord Varian is seen holding two items. The first is a black leather journal. The second is a coin sack, grime covered, as if only recently retrieved from the ground. "A pleasure to see you again." he intones, bowing to the others. "Aplogies for my disappearance earlier. I had to split off," he explains. "It helps us cover more ground. Not to mention that the demands of my schedule are a significant impediment to this work. Still, I hope to have a thing or two to contribute to these events." He gestures toward the items, though does not yet explain what they are.
"Have you had any success in resolving this matter? I must say, my excursion with Beatrice was not as fruitful as I had intended, though not entirely without profit." Lord Varian has a bemused smile as he says this, perhaps to suggest he thoroughly enjoyed his time with the girl he left the bar with the night before.
You sense that Lord Varian is putting on a bit of a show, intentionally feeding into the obvious narrative. Is he hiding something?
Elsie nods in greeting to the Lord, being still upset at the transaction between herself and the priest earlier to remove the affliction suffered, failing to notice his mannerisms. "A pleasure to meet you again Lord Varian. Our search was productive, yet many more questions were unearthed. We are just waiting for our host to free himself from his duties." She adds with just a tinge of impatience.
Darc's call is answered by a sleepy groan, which is shortly followed by a half-asleep Tella shuffling out of her bedroom. Compared to her normally well groomed self, the sight of her in such a disheveled state is quite startling.
"mrn'n'," she mumbles before snapping her fingers and drying Darc off. He's also noticeably cleaner and more pleasant smelling.
After some tea and time to get ready, she follows Darc to the ghats.
===
Still not fully awake, Tella looks at Lord Varian as he tells the others how his night went.
She's dozing as she leans against Darc's arm before he gets past the second sentence. Tella obviously isn't a morning person.
Darc, puts his arm around Tella protectively, helping her through the morning. He grumbles when he see Varian, looking so sprightly and fresh, "Morning my lord, I trust all is well with you" he bows slightly, a mocking tone in his voice.
"Though tis good you bring coin, where'd you find it or is it from your immaculate and estimable cellars." his words bite and cut through the morning air. "Or do we, my noble lord, not deserve the truth" under his breath he lets out, "though we fight at you side."
He looks to Elise and nods, before whispering in Tella's ear, "Please wake now, make sense of Lord Varian this morning, he acts strangely."
Tella shakes her head and looks up at Darc, then to Lord Varian.
"What's going on, milord. Did your night go as smoothly as you say?"
As their suspicions arise, Lord Varian's easy smile quickly fades, replaced by a serious frown. "It matters not," he says, dismissively. "What matters for your purposes is what I have learned."
Lord Varian takes the first item in his possession, the black leather journal. Within are hundreds of drawings; sketches of people, of buildings along the river, of the Castorhage skyline and, the most detailed of all of them, pictures of open countryside and of sprawling fields - parochial scenes that radiate peace. "This was once Constance's sketchbook. An object that held great knowledge and significance to her." Lord Varian hands the book to Tella. "I believe this is the sort of thing you might find useful to learn more about her, and perhaps gain more insight into the characters in her life, including that Mahaas fellow I sent you all to track down. Speaking of which . . ."
Lord Varian then displays the grimy bag of coins.
He knew he was going to have to lie about this bag, but having prepared for this doesn't skip a beat. "Now I am told this bag of coins that Constance had stashed away was from Mahaas himself. Two-hundred fifty silver pieces. Maybe he really wanted to sweep Constance off her feet? Whatever his motives, the important fact is that it's a clue. Do you see all this grime on the bag? Looks like it was just escavated out of the ground, doesn't it? Well, there is only one place in town that fits the bill - Savant Spitewinter's excavation on the island of Festival. Work on that excavation has slowed recently with rumors that the Savant has been subject to demands from ne'er-do-wells in Festival. I bet you Mahaas was asking for protection money or the like from the excavation. To what end, I cannot say, but it may be a worthy place to pursue our investigation.." He offers the bag of coins to Eliseera or Darc.
"So, are we still waiting on Ruby? I wish to serve this noble cause, but my time is limited, you must know." Lord Varian resumes a rather haughty expression, once again appearing assured of his superior place.
Elsie takes the proffered bag of coins, eyeing the coin with a critical gaze. "Hmmm...very interesting Lord Varian, if inconclusive. Still you do make a logical assumption as to where Mahaas discovered his newfound wealth. As for Ruby," she purses her lips in disapproval, "She has informed us of an urgent matter requiring her attention, and has recused herself from the investigation until she has resolved it."
Pocketing the coins in her belt pouch, she motions for M'Haajeet over to where the group is congregated. "Excuse us Mister M'Haajeet? May we trouble you for a moment? We have discovered news concerning the origins of the burning corpses."
"Yes, and we're wanted to know some more details about Lenice Quarn's brief revival. Did it look as if something was clawing at her chest?"
M'Haajeet, pulled from the solitary contemplation of his funereal charge, nods quietly towards Eliseera, "You have my full attention... I am sad to say that no-one will be mourning the young man that was dragged from the Lyme yesterday", he gestures towards the sadly young corpse on the plinth.
...and when Tella asks about the nature of Lenice Quarn's revival, the holy man shrugs, "It was all over so quickly... but maybe the fire seemed more different? More ferocious, more hungry... was there anything else there? something clawing at her? I could not say for sure... but, I don't think so".
"But you saw the entire episode, correct," Tella inquires. "I may be able to help remember more."
Remember more at the risk of your sanity, thinks Varian at Tella's suggestion. From everything he had seen, Tella's mind was powerful, and dangerous.
Although the Stirge wanted to contribute, Lord Varian obviously couldn't betray that he knew about the party's nighttime explorations. "M'Haajeet, I think you were close enough to hear what I discovered. Some clues about this Mahaas character, but nothing concrete. Perhaps my colleagues can report what they've found. I too am curious."
Elsie nods in reply to Lord Varian. "Fortunately, we were able to track down and apprehend Mahaas. We also discovered a possible cause of this...so-called burning corpses. We do need additional information, as there are many unanswered questions. We need to know more however."
"Yes, he had some concoction that he said could burn anyone to ashes. He used it on the poor girl that was fished from the Lyme yesterday. He told us of some of his contacts, so perhaps we may be able to uncover more. I would like to know more about Lenice Quarn's brief resurrection, so that we might be able to determine if there's some connection. Do I have your permission to help you remember, and do you have someplace private we could do this?"
M'Haajeet appears briefly concerned at the prospect of Tella doing 'something' to help him remember but the doubts - maybe tempered by the near complete lack of business - quickly evaporate, "Let us do it here... this is where it all happened so maybe that would help?".
"Alright, if you would rather do it here," Tella says as she pulls out a piece of chalk and a strange crystal . She looks at the slabs and asks, "which slab was the one that Lenice was on when the incident happened?"
Once the slab has been pointed out, she places the crystal on the slab and lets go of the chalk which begins whipping about the area tracing interconnected circles and complex, geometric patterns on the ground. The investigator pulls out another piece of chalk and begins to draw a circle around the slab then tracing lines to it before adding a complex arrangement of lines and circles on the stone itself. As she uses a spell to clean her hands of the white dust from the piece of chalk, the other piece vanishes as it finishes the last bit of its work.
"Now, Mr. M'Haajeet, please mind the chalk lines and take a seat here," she says indicating one of the two large circles on the slab before sitting cross-legged in the other. After he sits down, she begins speaking in a soft, singsong voice.
"Clear your mind, focus all of your attention on my voice and my eyes. There's no reason to worry now. I'm here and will be with you through this. Just breath in and out. Slow and steady, like the gentle lapping of a river against its banks or an ocean rolling softly over the beach. In and out. Slow and steady," she instructs. Her tempo a steady, sedate beat, her mind reaches out to his like a child's hand wary of frightening a dog they wanted to pet. "I'll be there with you. Relax. Breath. Allow me to walk the path of your past with you. In and out. Slow and steady. All you hear is my voice. There are no worries, or fears now. There is only what is. What have you seen M'Haajeet? What occurred that morning? In and out. Slow and steady. Breath. Relax. Remember what you saw."
Fortuitously for Tella, whose tone becomes strangely unconvincing when she should be reassuring M'Haajeet, the holy man is ready to help the group. Sitting opposite to Tella, he relaxes and images start to flood towards the young psychic...
A fog pouring from the Lyme...
A low bell ringing out from somewhere...
Indistinct voices shrouded and muffled by dank cloud...
...and then, running through the mists, a woman ablaze. The fire burning around her torso is voracious - and, even though the vision is fleeting, Tella can see something moving within the fire... and then she realises something - it isn't the case that something within the fire is alive... it is the fire itself that is living!!!
The woman screams and runs from the edge of the steps... and into the darkness of the river.
...and then Tella is back with her companions - sat opposite a still meditative M'Haajeet.
Tella's vision, as she has the ability to hold it in her mind and study it, reveals one other important point... through the flames, she is able to tell that the woman that M'Haajeet saw burning and running to the Lyme was, in fact, Constance. Despite what the holy man believes he saw - it was never Lenice Quarn.
While Tella is busy studying M'Haajeet, Lord Varian resigns himself to a close examination of at the man who lay alone on the funeral plinth. Another poor sap done in by Castorhage with nobody to remember him. Varian was not the religious type. He much preferred to take matters into his own hands than pray to some god to rescue him. Yet, unable to bring justice to this situation, he decides a silent prayer to Pharasma would be fitting. Pharasma, may this man find in the afterlife a place better than this.
Tella jerks out of the trance she was in with a gasp of fear. For a long moment, the young investigator sits on the slab shivering as the memories of Constance's last moments flash through her memory again.
"That wasn't Lenice Quarn you saw," she told M'Haajeet quietly, "that was the woman that was fished out of the Lyme, Constance."
M'Haajeet's eyes widen in shock as Tella corrects the misapprehension he had been labouring beneath, "So it was not Lenice returned to life then? It was the poor girl that you pulled from the river yesterday all along... But Lenice is still gone - she cannot have got up and walked off on her own... someone must have taken her". The holy man shivers and his eyes dart around, "Why would someone do that? Was it bodysnatchers? There have been tales of such folk in Castorhage once more".
Momentarily hopeful, M'Haajeet takes Tella's hand, "You will find Lenice for me?"
Elsie nods in reply, "We will endeavor to track down Lenice as she has crossed paths with Mahaas."
Varian is not so sure about pursuing the fate of the other missing body. "It is a puzzle what happened to Lenice. I don't see how it's connected to the fiery attacks, though, which seem to be a far more urgent problem that is rumored to be spreading in the city. Also, how do we know she crossed paths with Mahaas?"
M'Haajeet is effusive in his gratitude, "That would be most welcomed... the reputation of guild is in your hands. You must find Lenice... and she must be afforded her funereal rites".
"Perhaps what I need is an explanation of what you learned from Mahaas. I imagine I missed a lot while conducting my own investigations."
The Stirge didn't really need such an explanation, but "Lord Varian" would if he were to maintain his cover.
"I promise to do my best," Tella answers. She still feels shaken by the whole ordeal, but she isn't as badly off as before.
"We learned many things, m'lord," the investigator says as the last of her tremors ceases. She proceeds to relay all that they'd learned from the man in as much detail as she can.
"Given what I have seen at the morgue and in M'Haajeet's memories, I believe we need to find the man that supplied Mahaas with his vile fire. I fear what it may actually be, and I have no interest in having another suffer Constance's fate."
After listening to Tella's retelling of the evening's adventures, Lord Varian announces his intentions. "Ah, so Mahaas confessed to hassling Savant Spitewinter for money? She's the same person involved with this dig site where the silver coins I found came from. Perhaps she can lead us to this Organ Grider Mahaas spoke about. Let us speak with her next."
Despite having been absent for much of their adventure, Lord Varian seems to have no qualms about taking the lead now that he's back.
Darc his eyes closed and drifting, his head slowly forward his chin nearly touching his chest, before jerking his head back, blinking his eyes , before his eyelids get heavy again. The power of Tella's magics and the intoxicating chant, take their toll on Darc, dazed his mind clouds over into a dark and wispy gray fog, comforting and relaxing.
As Tella's power diminishes and the ritual ends, Darc quickly looks around, refocusing on where he is and what he's doing. He coughs slightly, attempting to give the impression his mind has not been wandering through this interrogation. "Yes, Spitewinter next." Rubbing his eyes until there get a red tinge, he thinks, Shame, would like to see Mahaas get his comeuppance.
The dig site requires the group to make their way back across the Lyme and back to the isle of Festival... the location of the site, an intellectual pursuit upon an island devoted to pleasures, is easy enough to locate. The festering footings to the north of the isle overlook a curious site, an excavation of some sort on a sandbar some way from shore. It seems to have excited a lot of local interest based on the many onlookers keeping a careful distance from the bridge that leads out to the dig.
...and as the group approach the bridge, four men - heavy-browed and thick set - move to stop them getting any closer, "This 'ere is proivate property... go on wiv yer, make yerselves scarce now!!!"
Elsie gives the thugs her most charming smile, designed to disarm the thugs without blades being drawn here. "Forgive us, we mean no trespass upon your business. We merely seek to find Miss Spitewater as we wish to talk to her. Is she available?"
Seeing trouble possibly brewing, Tella puts herself behind Darc and lets Eliseera handle the initial negotiations. It'd give her a chance to figure these guys out and maybe think of a way around them.
Lord Varian also watches and waits - he really did not want to sully his hands with these uncouth thugs. If it came to it, he could try to persuade them using his vampiric charms.
Darc waits and watches the men that protect the dig, his muscles twitch with excitement, but he waits for Elise to finish her discussions before he enters the argument with a fist.
The men, clearly hired muscle from elsewhere in Castorhage given their accents, don't back down - and Eliseera's attempt to sweet-talk them into allowing unhindered access to the dig fails miserably...
"Now look 'ere, this is official business of the Royal Underneath Society... if you want cheap thrills and larks then go find someplace else on this filthy island. Miss Spitewinter has had enough of the likes of you sniffing around and slowing down the good work she's been doing. Now", hands go to the pommels of the swords the men are wielding, "Are we gonna have to throw you into the Lyme with the rest of the filth?"
It is clear, from the stance of the fellows that they are prepared to go through with their threats... and, in fact, they are somewhat itching for a tussle...
Seeing the situation deteriorating quickly, Varian steps forward and attempts to address the guards.
"Excuse me. I understand you are only doing your jobs, but I believe Miss Spitewinter would not appreciate it if you turned away a nobleman with significant resources." The well-dressed nobleman subtly rubs his signet ring as further confirmation of his legitimacy. "To the contrary, she might be quite upset that you stopped someone with useful connections in this city from touring this venture."
His eyes focus on the person who spoke to them, presumably the leader of this cohort, and extends his hand for a handshake. "Lord Varian LeFleur." And as he did so, he attempted to enchant the guard to his favor, to support his words.
Tella is about to step in, but with Varian's help, she instead covers her eyes with her right hand and shakes her head.
"Excuse my...uh? Excuse the lord, he's an idiot," she says quickly as she steps between them and the others, hoping to salvage the situation and quickly.
"My name is Tella Street. I'm an investigator that is sometimes employed by the watch and sometimes hired to solve mysteries that the watch can't be bothered with. I assure you that my assistants and I mean you no harm. I had thought that letting them have a chance to negotiate this delicate pass would be a good way for them to get some practice. I apologize and and ask that you not harm them," she says quickly and cheerfully.
"Anyway, I know that Ms. Spitewinter is a busy woman, but I'm afraid that our investigation into a most gruesome matter has lead us to her. I do not believe that she is involved in the heinous crimes, but I fear that she may know something of it without realizing it. We only ask for a little of her time then we'll be off and out of your way. Does that sound alright? Yes? No? Maybe?"
Darc, just shrugs his shoulders, shakes his head as he winks at Elise. In his mind he thinks, Here we go, ain't no reason to talk further. His hand lays on Tella's shoulder, as he pulls her behind him, gruffly he says "Like she says!" and smiles at the leader of the guardians of the dig.
"Look... we asked yer nicely, we really did... Men", the apparent leader of this guard beckons to his men, "Flats of the swords only... send 'em on their way - an' if any of them end up in the river well, that'll be a lesson to them".
As soon as the men appear to be drawing their swords, Lord Varian's previously outstretched hand becomes a fist that uppercuts the apparent leader!
"Damn you riff raff, learn to yield to your betters!"
Elsie correctly reads a sufficient show of force will be enough to get these thugs to back down. "Yes, do as you betters say!" She adds as she weaves her way in front of another guard, her sap lashing out to connect with his chin!
Tella just shakes her head and an ignoble part of her wants nothing more than to let the idiots beat each other senseless. She could turn invisible and just wander past, and it'd be so easy, but her integrity was too much for that.
she shouts as she moves to break up the fight.
Darc's normally quick reactions seem to have deserted him, as t he fight starts.
The leader of the group, his chin running crimson red as Lord Varian cracks a bone within his nose, growls at his companions, "Go on lads... show 'em who is boss 'round 'ere".
Tella's voice just gets lost in the rising chaos... whilst Eliseera, sap very quickly to hand, smashes hard against armour - to no avail...
With a singing of steel, the guards draw their swords in unison... and, blades turned flat, attempt to push the group back. But, ducking down behind their shields and minding to avoid slicing with the keen edge of their blades, only one of them hits home...
"Oh, for the..." Tella mutters as she throws up her hands in frustration and steps back. She begins to weave a spell and the air shimmers around her for a moment before she vanishes.
Still going after the mouthy guy, Varian fires a left jab as a distraction, then swings around for a right hook to the side of his enemy's head.
If possible, Varian will take a step to set up a flank against a guy with Eliseera.
Once Varian has stepped into position Elsie maneuvers into position so she maintains the flank, then strikes out with her sap again.