Elsie is silent for a moment as the words spoken by the girls bring back long distant memories, those she tried to keep buried but sometimes they surface at inopportune times.
There...but for the grace of the Baron...I would share their fate... She reflects silently.
Tella's words bring her back to the present and reaching into her pouch she withdraws ten gold coins. "I...I have walked in your shoes and as my friend here says I also wish justice served here." Offering the coins to them, she adds "Five coins each...for the truth...ONLY the truth."
One of the girls greedily takes the coins, and stuffing them into a purse concealed beneath her petticoats, she laments, "Poor Constance... it was always her who attracted the worst of the dross that washes up here. Men with nowt but fake coin and promises, men with desires what ain't normal... and then most recent she'd been getting harassed by some feller from over Festival way who wouldn't take no for an answer. Least that's what she said... she was all stressed over it a couple of nights back over a pear brandy with me and the girl".
Turning towards Tella, "I don't think it was some handsome gent... She called him some freak of birth what couldn't get with no girl with standards. Anyway, that's rightly all I know miss. If'n you want anything more, it's best you ask the Cherub. He's on his way by now..." she leers "...and like as not, he'll want you paying for my time".
"Constance? I thought the poor girl's name was Chantelle," Tella asked her eyes narrowing. She may want to see the best in people, but she was far form naive. She'd had more than one person try to pull one over on her, and she'd learned to pick out the small little signs that someone was lying to her.
Elsie raises an eyebrow at the additional information revealed by Tella. She does have many talents...I am impressed with her so far. Seeing the women's obvious falsehood laid bare she is quiet for the moment as she waits for them to respond to Tella's challenge.
The Cherub, eh? Sounds like the pimp who controls this part of town. Still he does have many eyes...but how deep should our trust be of him? She thinks to herself.
Varian hands out some pies and drink to his friends, and to the girls as well. Leaving the chatting to the others, he ponders who the Cherub might be. . But he comes up empty.
"To her gentlemen she was Chantelle... the Cherub always said it was a more glamorous name than Constance - more likely to get the attention of the folks in the bars, the taverns and at the dockside if you know what I mean?"
- the name spoken by the girl', in this context, has a certain familiarity to it... thinking on it for a moment, Tella recalls that the 'Angel Gang' control the illicit market along this stretch of the river - and that it is led by an enigmatic figure, 'The Cherub'.
"I'm afraid I do," Tella says with a grimace. She'd been lucky and avoided that fate, but it had only been luck and the grace of the goodly gods that kept her from selling herself for the profits of a petty crimelord.
"Very well then, would you mind introducing us to this Cherub fellow? I believe that I would like to talk to him," she says, somehow managing to keep her tone friendly instead of frosty.
Ruby is correct in her prediction that the group will soon have the opportunity to speak to 'the Cherub'... preceded by a dozen or so women, all dressed in similar semi-alluring attire as that worn by Constance on the night that she met her fate, four men stride purposefully along the narrow alleyway next to the church. Three of them, moving as through slightly inebriated, are burly lads - shaven-headed and dressed for manual work... whilst the fourth, muscled and heavily tattooed, moves elegantly and with purpose. With one girl in each arm, his hair is a shock of white - and with skin so very pale, the man is certainly of albino blood.
Bowing courteously, a mock show of deference, he greets the group, "You have found one of my girls? Poor poor Chantelle... give her back to us so that Mr Singhh can send her to the Boneyard in the proper manner". The man, surely 'the Cherub' given his near-angelic complexion, grins with a knowing smile that is anything but cherubic...
Varian did not like the look of this tattooed pimp. Nor did he really want to give the body back to this scum. "You may have owned "Chantelle" in life, but in death Constance is free. If her body belongs to anyone, it's her family."
Darc looks at the two girls that gave their truths to Elise, he whispers, "You want to work in freedom, do you want my protection?" His muscle bound arms are offered to go round their shoulders and pul them behind him. At Varian's wods, Darc frowns as his brain slowly reassesses the nobles value. "I stand by my noble friends word." he says slowly and decisively.
The Cherub, his smile still full of unspoken menace, turns to Varian, "Family? You speak of Chantelle's family? Let me tell you something of poor Chantelle's family... they threw her on to the streets when she turned twelve - a fine birthday present indeed!!! When I met her she was running with the mudlarks along the Lyme, a life that is only on borrowed time until the great river claims you, and half-starved. I gave her a new life, one that fed her, clothed her and put a roof over her head at night... My Lord, if I may, we", the Cherub ostentatiously gestures towards the gathered girls, "are her family. All that I ask is that you allow our dear friend M'Hajeet to do what is right by Chantelle... and, after that, we can talk about what you are doing here".
As the Cherub speaks, the two girls next to him - tight bodices, rouged cheeks and scarlet coloured lips - smile seductively at Varian.
As the Cherub offers his bargain to the 'Lord', Elsie is content to have Varian take the lead here though she does keep a close eye upon the albino man. While the offer sounded reasonable upon the surface, she knew from long experience dealing with such men as these that, like the river Lyme, it is what is beneath the surface that must be watched for.
.
Varian finds himself visibly distracted by the girls, shifting his collar uncomfortably. As a result has no idea if the Cherub was being truthful about Constance/Chantelle. He shakes off the distraction and decides to play along with the Cherub's facially honorable sentiments. "Then we are in agreement. I've already instructed Mr. Singhh to take steps to preserve her body. If you and your girls wish to pay your respects, you may do so. But we would appreciate it if you answered our questions. Constance . . . Chantelle appears to be the victim of foul play that we are investigating. When did you last see her? Who was she with last night?"
Darc bristles under his collar at 'The Cherub''s words, his thoughts returning to the state he found his mother in before they were freed from the tyranny of a 'protector' like 'The Cherub'. He eyes the girls with the rouge on their cheeks and pouting ruby red lips, their pretty faces and curves meaning nothing to him, not without their freedom. That is the prettiest smile in the world.
Darc stands ready to protect the fellow investigators, his fists slowly clenching, his legs tensing ready to leap should the albino decide to show his muscle, as bullies do.
As far as it is possible to tell, the Cherub is telling the truth when he describes the early life of Constance Chanterelle (later Chantelle)... and, despite Varian's misgivings, he is most certainly human.
"I thank you then for giving Chantelle the dignity she deserves", the Cherub smiles with a little more sincerity than he previously had, "Now it's questions? Well first of all, you tell me who you are and on whose authority you ask such things? This is Angel Gang territory and I decide what justice will be visited upon the wretch who did this".
"Tella Street, investigator and musician," Tella says politely, if not warmly, as she studies the man known as Cherub. After just long enough to take a breath, she dives right in.
"We've been asked to investigate an incident we believe to be related when we discovered Constance's remains in the river. Given how her death came about, I have to say that we are after the same thing, Mr. Cherub. Would you care to take this somewhere more, ah, comfortable? I'm sure that our conversation will be most enlightening," she says, a polite smile that never touches her eyes on her face. She loathed those that took advantage of others, and despite Cherub's tale, she was sure that the man hadn't taken Constance in out of the goodness of his heart. A young, pretty girl was as often as not nothing more than a new tool to the pimps and crime lords that ran Castorhage's underbelly.
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I'd love to take this somewhere more comfortable, thinks Varian, still distracted by the girls. But there was a job to do. He hides the thought.
Instead, Varian moves his gaze a little higher, looking for the girl whose face looks distraught, frazzled, or otherwise unusually affected by the news about what has happened to Constance. He figures whoever that girl is might know more.
The Cherub adopts a sad look at Ruby's observation, one that may... or may not be entirely genuine, "It is a sad fact of life that there are those who would seek to destroy beauty rather than enjoy all that it has to offer" - to small giggles from the girls (again, maybe not entirely genuine), the Cherub draws two of the girls close against him. "You are right though, if someone hurt Chantelle then there is the chance that the same person may seek to harm other girls... I will not stand in the way of your investigation but our cooperation is somewhat dependent upon who your employer is".
- It seems that the Cherub is being truthful about Chantelle... and the suggestion of taking the discussions elsewhere have been ignored, at least for now.
- There is a girl - probably the same age as the murdered woman - near the rear of the group, who seems far more distraught about the sight of Chantelle being moved on to one of M'Hajeet's plinths than the others.
Darc, showing his best smile and innate lack of intelligence, "You say the Angel Gang holds sway here, so do you have some sort of affiliation to them? I never heard of them in my patch." His chest heaves as he takes in large gulps of air. "And to be fair, what Tella says is true, we found the girl whilst fishing for another."
He shuffles uncomfortably from foot to foot, waiting for the man to signal his bodyguards to become more unpleasant than they really are. He looks both the Cherub and bodyguards up and down, searching for anything that would be used in a fight.
Varian reaches toward his pocket where he was keeping the official embossed letter from the Guild of Crematoria Masters. But a glance from Ruby suggests she wasn't sure that was a good idea. Instead, he responds to try and address the Cherub's concerns. "We don't work for the Watch, if that's what you're wondering. Not that I think they have time for such matters anyway."
Elsie watches the interplay between the Cherub and her fellow investigators as they plumb him for information. She does not trust him here, not in the slightest.
One question I would like an answer to is what happened to Miss Quarn's corpse?
"Just a moment Cherub. Our investigation indicates Chantelle's corpse was switched with...another woman." Elsie speaks up softly. "While we are not accusing you of being involved with this, there are many questions not answered now. Perhaps you could tell us more of what Chantelle was doing the previous night, and who she was with?" While the smile on her face is a charming one, her eyes do hold an unspoken challenge in them.
"Eliseera, I'm afraid that's not quite accurate. Rather we were looking for someone else and stumbled across Constance's remains," Tella says, "and while I may not agree with you on a number fo matters, Mr. Cherub, I do agree that it is sad to see others destroy beauty, no matter the cause, and if you'd be so inclined to take this somewhere more discrete, I'm sure we can more freely exchange information. I can promise you that the watch isn't involved, and until someone of significant enough status is affected, it unlikely to become so. Now, shall we find somewhere to have a nice cup of tea and perhaps something sweet, or savory. I'm afraid that I missed the midday meal and I'm becoming quite famished."
Darc's observations, practiced through any number of untoward confrontations here on the ragged streets of the Blight, of the gang members reveal that all of the men are armed... and that none of them are particularly hiding it. The Cherub has a highly polished falchion slung from his belt whilst the other three men have clumsy looking axes beneath their coats. Slightly taken aback when Darc asks about the Angel Gang, the Cherub fixes him with eyes robbed of pigment, "We... are the Angel Gang and you are very much on our turf mister 'I've never heard of you'... where exactly are you from anyway?"
As the friends talk, it becomes obvious that the Cherub's primary worry is that the group are working for the Office of the Watch... and he visibly relaxes, becoming more social... touchy even, when Tella clearly concerned that group working for the Watch, relaxes when Varian states that they are not working for the authorities as such. And he opens up to Eliseera's questioning, "Chantelle... she was working the riverside for the last few days... she always made her best money along here. I don't know if she saw anyone in particular over her last days... maybe there were some boats in with new folk?".
The Cherub calls for quiet as M'Hajeet, having completed his ceremonial rites, lights a flame beneath Chantelle. Beneath his breath, the leader of the Angel Gang whispers, "Sorry... I'm sorry I wasn't there for you"
As the flames take hold, the Cherub turns to Tella, "We should toast Chantelle's life... give us a few moments to remember her and then we will adjourn to the Nymph's Embrace... I need more than a tea!!!"
...and as the flames rise higher, the heat from the pyre cuts through the cold Castorhage air.
Hearing the sorrow in Cherub's voice, Tella pulls a masterfully made violin from her pack. She sets the instrument and after a moment to recall the song she wanted to play, begins a beautiful, mournful song.
As the song finishes. She turns to the man and nods.
"It should be a wine. White I think, from the Oppara vintners. Somehow, I think an ale would be too coarse to remember her by."
Elsie nods in complete agreement with Tella. "A fine vintage...for a fine lady! I can think of no better way to honor her life, and her memory."
I suspect we will need the Cherub's help in order to unravel this mystery.
.
Varian maintains a cold and somber demeanor, out of respect more than any sense of loss. He had seen a lot of death in his day and had become numb to it. But seeing even the Cherub feel the loss makes Varian question his own detachment. Was he losing touch with his own humanity?
Still, being detached had its benefits. Ever calculating, Varian makes it a point to walk alongside the girl who was particularly distraught over Constance's death. "A real tragedy what happened to Chantrelle. Did you know her well?"
The Cherub thanks Tella for her playing, "Wine it is then... but I cannot guarantee that the Nymph's Embrace will have anything from Oppara. Come, let us drink to her memory then" ...and so, leaving M'Hajaat to tend to the fire, the Cherub leads the strangest looking funeral party along a network of twisting alleys and crooked lanes... to the lantern lit entrance of 'The Nymph's Embrace'.
...as they walk, Lord Varian slows his pace until he is walking alongside the girl who seemed most distraught at the riverside - and asking her whether she knew Chantelle well, he unleashes further sobbing, "We... we were both mudlarks when the Cherub found us... we've been together for so long, through the bad times - and the good times as well I s'pose. I can't believe she's gone... and like that... she always worried that someone would hurt me bad one day and now someone's gone done that to her"
Opening the creaking door of the Nymph's Embrace unleashes a cacophony of sounds and smells into the alleyway... it is not a large establishment and, with some thirty or so new customers, there is barely room to stand. It is obvious from the way that the conversation subdues the moment that the Cherub walks in that he has great influence in these parts... Making his way to the small bar, the Cherub turns to the investigators, "Now... my new friends, I believe we are going to toast our dear friend Chantelle... wine? beer? or something stronger?"
Darc watching the Cherub through all his blustering and regards for Chantrelle, ignores his questions and studies him and his falchion closely. He follows on, making it his business to move over to Elise. "He means it? To buy us a drink in celebration of her life? Why?" He really finds it hard to understand his motives behind such a move, his face confused into a scowl. "Still if it's a drink, I see no harm. How bout you Elise?" He pulls up his collar, wrapping his cloak against the rain that still turned the world grey.
On reaching the Nymph's embrace, Darc stops, opening his eyes and looking round, taking in the state of the establishment, assessing the risks and ease of escape. Wary that anyone in his line is so accommodating.
Once inside and the smell of ale reaches his nostrils, that flare, his face turns red and he remembers his thirst. "Beer, I only knew her corpse, but her life is familiar. Such a grisly death for such a pretty young thing. May her afterlife bring more happiness." he replies to the Cherub and barstaff. Whilst is voice and tone are gruff, behind the facade, a tear weals in his eye and there is a tenderness in Darc for the poor girls life and her passing.
Elsie smiles at her friend and leans in close to whisper in reply, "While it may be strange, I feel the Cherub...loved Chantelle, in his own way. I have seen more examples I can say of this than I care to recall, of pimps growing....attached to their girls. I truly hope the Cherub can offer more clues to follow up on so I feel we are not wasting time. Still, your caution is warranted as always." She cannot help but feel a pang of remorse upon hearing the distraught tone of Chantelle's friend.
Once they are settled in the Nymphs Embrace Elsie nods in thanks to the Cherub's offer. "Just wine, please." As she sips the middling vintage she idly watches the other patrons marking each one in her mind as to who falls under the Cherub's thumb.
Along the way to the Nymph's Embrace, Varian asks the girl a few more questions. "Do you know who Chantelle might've been with last night? Was she associating with a particularly handsome man with a mustache? There was also some sort of freakish looking fellow?"
Once there, he accepts the offered drink. "Red wine, please." Though, when it comes time to drink, Varian only pretends to take a sip. . He was on guard, particularly now that they were deep in "Angel Gang" territory.
Darc speaks quietly to Elise, "You know, its best to let you do the thinking, I'll just do what I'm good at." he smiles knowingly. "Clever girl that Elise, she makes friends and is nice, I'll just wait here in case I'm needed. It's worked for us before, I'm sure it will work again."
The girl, making sure to walk slowly and keep towards the rear of the group, speaks in hushed tones, "There was a man... think he's called Mahaas, kept coming over from Festival and hassling poor Chantelle... but he isn't no handsome man mister... he's a damned freak and shoulda been given to Sister Lyme the moment he spilled out of his Mama's belly. Chantelle didn't want nothing to do with him and told him so... hundreds of times but she couldn't let the Cherub know. He'd a freaked if he heard she was turning fellows down... even a monster like Mahaas is coin to him".
...at the Nymph's Embrace the drink flows easily and, holding court over the clientele, the Cherub stands at the bar. Darc's cautious observations suggest that, at least for now, there is little to worry about... there are a few bouncers here but they seem far more interested in drinking than in security... and Darc's recollections of the drinking den's name suggests it is little more than a semi-legal backstreet speakeasy.
"Wine for me please," Tella answers. She keeps an eye out for anyone that seems to be paying more attention to them than was warranted.
As he walks alongside the girl, Varian keeps his voice down and slows his pace to keep them out of earshot of the Cherub. "Any clue where I can find Mahaas?" he whispers, wanting a lead to follow.
Once at the bar, he waits impatiently for the Cherub to speak. There were so many questions, and Varian was eager to start digging for the answers.
As the atmosphere in the backstreet bar becomes increasingly rowdy, the songs start and the opportunity to hold a sensible conversation becomes lost in the noise. Ruby, Darc, Eliseera and Tella, all finding their glasses regularly charged by the barkeeper, keep an eye on the clientele yet see nothing out of the ordinary... nothing more than a late afternoon drinking session, talk of Chantelle having evaporated to nothing, that will surely - unchecked - carry on into the night.
Lord Varian though, mingling in the crowd, finds another opportunity to speak to the girl that he accompanied to the Nymph's Embrace... emboldened maybe by the wine, she doesn't seem to hide her talk of Chantelle's unwanted suitor from the Cherub - however, apart from reiterating that this 'Mahaas' comes from Festival - she thinks - there is little more she can add. And Varian, thinking on the name, comes up short... it isn't someone that he has heard of.
Festival though, Varian - as any other resident of the Blight - knows of the pleasure town of Festival. Adrift in the midst of the widest estuarine span of the Lyme, the Festival district can only be reached by the chain ferry... or, for the more affluent and discrete, by boat. Home to a changing array of street sharps, entertainers, circus acts and other conmen, Festival is a place that the dissolute, the bizarre... and the affected... can call home.
As Varian talks to the girl, one of the fellows who had accompanied the Cherub when the Angel Gang first arrived at the river side - a chap by the less than appealing name of 'Fetid', sees Varian's attentions. Barging through the crowd, he leers at Varian, "It's a couple of gold ones if you wanna spend time with young Beatrice". It doesn't take a genius to work out what the man is insinuating...
Varian is quite disappointed as the afternoon turns into a scene of revelry as opposed to mourning. It seemed like the opportunity for discrete conversation was ending, especially as "Fetid" interrupts Varian. Though his arrival sparks a thought. He leans into Beatrice's ear, trying to be as discrete as possible despite the crowd noise. "If I pay this man, will you be able to take me to Chantelle's room? I have a mind to search her things."
If it seems like this will actually work, Varian takes 4 gold from his coin purse, handing it to the fellow "Fetid, is it? Here's double the payment. Make sure we aren't disturbed or interrupted."
Darc, looking to discover more about the Cherub's gang, looks around the inn for games of strength, one's where he could loose a couple of gold for useful information from loose tongues. He drinks beers willingly, without loosing his reason.
Seeing that she'll likely not have the opportunity to corner Cherub and begin picking his brain for some time, decides to find out what she can from the clientele, discretely.
Darc, Tella and the others all mingle within the room - each of them trying to discretely obtain any gossip about the Cherub, Chantelle or the Angel Gang. One particularly loose tongue does suggest that the gang have an 'understanding' with M'Hajeet Singh at the riverside and that, in return for their protection, he has disposed of a number of local competitors... but Tella's more pointed questions as to whether anyone was aware of a particularly well-groomed man troubling Chantelle draw a blank.
Fetid makes a point of biting each coin that Varian pays him, "That'll buy you Beatrice's time for the rest of the evening"... and then leering, he winks, "Be gentle with her mister, she's one of the Cherub's favourites". Taking Varian's hand, Beatrice leads him out into the alleyway... the departure of the pair being noticed by the rest of the investigators...
Outside, with the drizzle starting to settle in once again, moves close to Varian, "It's a five minute walk back towards the Town Bridge - Chantelle and me shared a room".
Before Varian leaves, he makes sure to slip by Ruby, handing her the official seal of the Guild of Crematoria Masters. Curled within the official paper is a separate note, written in a hurried but still elegant hand:
Freak named Mahaas was hassling Constance. Go find him in Festival. I'm pursuing other leads.
Varian was glad for the excuse to slip away. He figures to learn as much as he could from the search, then reconnect in Festival. And, if things got violent, it would be a good opportunity to reappear in his alter ego. The Stirge was hungry, and Constance's killer was the prize. Once he's outside, Varian removes his coat and puts it around Beatrice, as much to keep her hidden as to keep her warm. "Very good, Beatrice. We can finish this business and you can have the rest of the evening to yourself."
"Yes, we should. The question is, where to?"
Darc watches as Varian leaves with the young girl, There he goes enjoying himself, typical of them lordy types.
He casts an eye over to Elise, waiting for the signal to leave, as the other members of the group start to get into a deep conversation.
Elsie sets down the wine glass and gives the Cherub a smile. "We all thank you for the drinks, but as my good companion as noted, we do need to continue our investigation. This...killer...will not rest until I and my companions track him down." Rising to her feet she offers her hand to the albino. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance Cherub. If you discover anything else of interest please do not hesitate to contact us."
Once the group has exited the Nymph's Embrace Elsie squints as her eyes grow accustomed to the night sky. Looking over the hastily scrawled note by 'Lord' Varian she runs her hand through her hair. "We seem to have unearthed a lead here. This gentleman Mahaas is in Festival. That should be our next destination."