Gunther pockets the gold coins, and begins to take away the dirty glasses. "The fine liquors are available by the drink, but what you must understand about wine, madame, is that breaking the seal means the product begins to age. Without a way to know who will be buying, the finer bottles must sold individually or by the cask." He lays out more empty glasses as he speaks, and begins to carefully pour out the smallest amount of the finer liquors for you to taste: another cognac, a 5 year rum, and a 15 year whisky.
"If you like the red, I have a few bottles of a more robust wine that is twenty gold a bottle. We have plenty of selection in red, and the price goes up from there. We have a few casks of some whites in the same range as well, if you prefer. There's the sparkling white we send to the high roller's tables we keep back here, but that's pageantry so we can overcharge them. For you, those bottles would only be five gold."
"If you're feeling VERY bold," he leans in very close to whisper. "I keep a select few that cost over a hundred. The Chelish prefer a spiced wine that is quite an experience."
Thisbe nods with a friendly grin to Gunther's description of the rare vintages while she tastes and notes the new selection of liquors.
"You know, Gunther, as intrigued as I am to taste the finer vintages, your explanation has convinced me that to do so would be a waste! I'd only have a mere sip to spit out and would have ruined a whole bottle," Thisbe drummed her fingers on the bar thoughtfully. "Perhaps you could only show me the bottles and describe them for me? I'd hate to miss adding them to my notes. I know it would be a hassle for you, but I'd be delighted to compensate you for your time, of course. Let's see your very best!"
Thisbe waited for Gunther to respond, noting his expression and attempting to identify where these might be stored and if there were a lock, or other mechanism needed to access the store.
Just in the few minutes together, you can see in Gunther come alight like a child. The long and busy hours of filling mugs with swill for the likes of Little Boy and Fat Man have made this display of his knowledge special for him. When you ask about the finer reserves, he cautiously looks around the room.
Out on the floor a pair stragglers from the night shift still chat at their table, looking bloated and sleepy. The other teams left just before you started your tasting; you know that was exactly twenty-eight minutes ago because Little Boy is (so far) exactly that late for his shift.
Satisfied at the level of privacy, Gunther steps back to the middle of the bar. He pulls out a ring with six keys. He finds the right one, and as he turns it over in his hand, you get a good look: a finger-length brass key topped with a crown. He opens the lock and undoes the latch the trap door on the ground. Before his head disappears, he gives you a nod toward the door, a silent plea to lookout.
You sit and listen to the grumbling from the sleepy duo for a few minutes before the trap door opens again, and a cask filled with straw slides onto the floor behind the bar. Gunther steps out, and re-latches the door part way. He watches the table the whole way over to you at the end, setting down the cask which hides a few bottles in the straw.
He whispers an enticing description of each of the wines, eight bottles in all. All but two of the bottles are pre-revolutionary, and although none of them are the 4424, the last two he shows are priced at two hundred gold a bottle. Gunther's tone as he describes each lead you to believe these are close to some of the highest priced vintages available.
Thisbe made notes of the stock, particularly the pre-revolutionary bottles. She sketched out quick diagrams of the bottle shapes, labels and coloring of the liquid within and asked Gunther questions about the particular nuances of their packaging. The knowledge of what the 4424 could possibly look like would be useful to Thisbe's plan of possibly replacing the bottle with a look-a-like. When she was done, she nodded to Gunther in good spirits and gave him another gold piece for his time and efforts.
"Much appreciated, monsieur. This has been truly educational and clearly your skills are very underused in your current position."
Afterwards, she moved away from the bar and found her usual table where she reviewed her notes while waiting for Little Boy to arrive. When he finally stumbled in, she wasn't surprised to find him hungover, yet her mood soured at being made to wait.
"You're late," Thisbe said harshly, "You had better have news on our mark for me."
"I wish," flopping down onto the table, Little Boy groans and waves his had at Gunther. You're convinced at the severity of Little Boy's headache, not because he's not a good liar but because of the distinct signs of drug use. "Whiskey and water, Gunther!"
Having seen your addled teammate enter, Gunther has already started to prepare a standard hangover remedy, which Little Boy doesn't hesitate to throw down his gullet when it's served. He shakes his head, and hits it a few times with his fist before he takes a deep breath. Finally composed he looks at you with a smile.
"Sorry boss," he groans to a start. "Spent my evening with some unsavory folk. Had to get a little unsavory with them. No one north of the river has seen ol' Gregorié, and the Caydogs I talked to haven't seen him either. I doubt the Delons are willing to hide him: he didn’t get away with THAT MUCH gold, and they don’t stick their neck out for nothin’."
"Were I a bettin' man," Little Boy continues to talk as he stands up to stretch his arms, "I'd put my money on the Warehouse District. Room to squat, reliable drugs, and absolutely no one asking questions. I'm happy to grease some more palms if ye want, though," he smirks. He looks hopeful for another night of 'interrogating' drug dealers on you, but not optimistic for it.
"Either way, you're the boss, boss. What're we gettin' into today?"
Thisbe glared at Little Boy as he described his wasted evening and bored her stare into him with silent intensity well after he'd finished, attempting to make him as uncomfortable as possible before she spoke.
"I am not sure what in my demeanor has convinced you that I am someone who will tolerate disrespect," Thisbe said in a quiet yet forceful tone. In a lightening fast movement she grabbed the back of his head and slammed it into the table. With one hand she pressed his face into the wood and continued her scolding, in a tone barely more audible than a whisper, and held him there.
"Perhaps it is my fault. After all, I'm rarely a woman of direct action, seeing words as a better avenue for achieving my goals than brute force. Yet, it's obvious to me now that you not only lack sense, but the most basic grasp of language. So let me say this in words even your pea-sized brain can comprehend," Thisbe paused and raised her voice into a vicious growl, "If you disrespect me again, I will tear out your tongue and shove it down your throat."
Returning to her normally composed demeanor, Thisbe released Little Boy and stood, gathering her things. "So, it sounds like we're headed to the Warehouse District prior to our usual rounds. Let's go."
It’s been quite some time since you disciplined Little Boy. In his addled state, slamming his thick skull into the table is easy. He puts up no fight, only nodding in response. He lags behind as you leave the Honey Pot, but catches up quickly. You walk through the Foreign Quarter in silence.
Minutes after the noon bell sounds in the distance, the two of you come upon perhaps the most destitute neighborhood in Isarn. Block after block you spot someone in an unconscious heap. Few have even a sheet to cover themselves, huddled instead under scavenged debris. A few folks wander aimlessly down the streets, but shy away quickly when they see or hear you. Little Boy looked frustrated and bitterish on the way here, but is now on high alert.
The drug addicts on the streets seem to be avoiding you or not paying attention at all, but every few blocks, you catch a glimpse of someone on a faraway rooftop. They appear to be tracking your movement from a distance.
Thisbe slowed her normally brisk pace to a near crawl and fiddled with her pack, pulling out a canteen of water and taking a swig before passing it to Little Boy. She carefully eyed the rooftops while not making any overt glances that would tip off their tail. Thisbe attempted to take note of the their clothing, size and appearance, as best she could make out from the distance.
As she did so, she casually alerted Little Boy, "Merde! Don't look, but we've got a tail on the rooftops. Keep a slow pace with me. They might expose themselves. We'll wind through the District and see if we can lose them. If not, we'll need to create some sort of diversion to shake them off. Stay alert and follow me."
After ensuring Little Boy was in on the plan, she lead through the District at a casual pace, as though they were merely taking in the sights of the dilapidated neighborhood. She kept to the busier streets and alleys, winding her way through without keeping to any sort of pattern. Thisbe chose paths that had particularly rough looking rooftops, or uneven heights, that might require the tail to work a bit harder to climb.
The dark figure is careful to stay far enough away that you're unable to get any sort of detail. Without the bright sky you're not sure you would have seen it at all. Little Boy responds quickly, and the two of you start weaving through the streets and around corners. There's no foot traffic in the district; anyone in the streets that's on their feet runs and hides as soon as you come near.
The tail is interesting. It vanishes and reappears in a way that would be impossible without, you figure, a magical effect. After a few minutes, you appear to have completely lost your pursuer.
After feeling as though she'd lost her tail, Thisbe dipped inside one of the less populated buildings to take stock and regroup. She hadn't considered taking precautions in the district as it's widely known as being dilapidated and she'd never heard of anyone other than drogués in the area. Still, it was naive to assume she could walk in broad daylight without being noticed. I could kick myself for being so careless, she thought, it won't happen again.
"We'll need to change up our appearance before we head back out. I'd prefer not to have to leave and come back. The longer we wait, the more of Anton's take will be spent on pesh," Thisbe said, looking Little Boy over, "Luckily for you, there's not much you'll need to look the part of le défoncé."
Thisbe mussed up her hair and disheveled her clothing, even smearing dirt on herself. She didn't have to work hard to appear as careless about her appearance in her old clerks clothing, tattered and torn and patched as it was. She watched as Little Boy did the same and assisted him in making adjustments as she saw fit.
"We can't go comb every building in the district. Let's ask around, see if anyone's had eyes on him."
With that, Thisbe headed out to canvass the area and see if she could track down their mark.
Disguised under a layer of dirt, the two of you exit the building and begin walking about again. The people lying down are generally unresponsive, but the rare wanderer you find in the district tries to avoid eye contact.
"Over there," Little Boy whispers as you step into an intersection. A block to the south, you spot a fidgety man in the middle of a handoff with another man. "If anyone knows, its a dealer."
The dealer is a dark haired man, standing midway down the block between two large warehouses. He's leaned up against the wall, and the nearest doorway is across the street from him.
Thisbe considered the scene for a moment. It would be better for the dealer to give up information on Gregorié willingly. Less messy. Yet, if by some strange virtue the dealer can't be swayed to give up his customer, I might be required to use my more convincing skills.
Thisbe nodded, making a decision, and proposed it to Little Boy, "Okay, here's the plan. I'll go chat up revendeur de pesh and see if I can get anything out of him. You go through the warehouse across from him, prepared to exit the door in the alley, in case I need you to assist should his answers not be as forthcoming as I desire. Let's avoid killing him. If it comes down that, try to get him in a hold so I can use more effective methods to convince him to give up information. Got it?"
Once Thisbe was assured that Little Boy understood the plan, she gave him a few minutes of a head start so he could make his way into the warehouse and ready at the alley door. She downed her extract of Focused Scrutiny and shook out a bit of the dirt she'd used to disguise herself before, wanting to appear a little more dangerous than an average pesh-head. After giving Little Boy ample time, she made her way into the alley.
"You're the boss, boss," Little Boy gives a nod and skulks away.
Counting as you make your adjustments, you make your way over to the dealer. You have to go out of your way to make sound as you approach, and still the dealer responds. You pass two steps beyond a distance where you could lunge forward and stab him before he looks in your direction.
The man's eyes are wide when he turns to see you. He looks quite disheveled, and though you are similarly dirty, the man is wearing far less clothing. His dark hair is wild, and likely full of something sticky. His once white shirt is stained all over, and his pants are torn above the ankles. He is barefoot, and ghoulishly thin. His stench hits you from outside arms-reach.
"Oh...hey," he stammers. "Uh..do I know you?" He half-turns as he greets you, unsure if he should run, but ready to.
Where pesh makes the addict jittery and nervous, this man appears to be taking something to dull the senses, probably opium.
It took some effort for Thisbe not to grimace when the man's stench hit her. She slowed her advance until she was a foot or so away from the man, keeping her arms open to seem nonthreatening. Judging by the man's intoxicated state, she assumed he'd made some money today. Enough to spend on getting high himself at any rate. She decided to attempt to lead him to talking about Gregorié without directly asking. A subtle approach would be necessary to avoid him getting skittish. She decided to pose as a dealer herself.
Thisbe gives the man a small smile and nods, "Just looking to shoot merde, friend. Been mindlessly wandering for a bit, but no one's biting today. I'd say you've had a successful day by the looks of you, though..."
Despite his addled look, the dealer scrutinizes you carefully. He has a look of confusion on his face; he clearly doesn’t recognize you but can’t seem to reconcile this with your feigned familiarity.
“I don’t have any extra,” he says. He shifts defensively, obviously hiding something. “You get stuck up or something? Come to take what I got?”
He hides his hand, but you see him reaching for something as he backs away. You seem to have convinced him you’re a fellow dealer, but that seems to be causing him to react unexpectedly. As he backs away, his eyes dart around, perhaps seeing something that isn’t there at all. He begins to edge away with his hand hidden.
Thisbe shook her head, her hands in her pockets. She wasn't going to let him get away, one way or another, but would prefer things not to get bloody. She thought of him as though he were a frightened dog needing a gentle approach.
"No, no! Sorry camarade, didn't meant to come off like that. Just heard there was a guy shelling out some coin and wanted to see if I could get in on it. I ain't got no interest in yours. Swear it!"
Thisbe quickly made a hand signal to Little Boy, who she assumed was watching from the building across the alley. Hold, be ready to grab him if he runs. She kept her distance from the dealer, hoping the extra space would make him feel less skittish.
"Do you know where he might be? I got to unload mine today or the boss will be on my ass. Seems like he might be my only hope."
"Oh yeah, yeah... okay," the dealer relaxes and puts the shiv away clumsily. He sways on his feet, nearly dozing off as he speaks. "Sorry, didn't mean to freak out. The last thing I need is to come up short."
"If you're lookin' for a big spender, ye might be out of luck. There was a guy last week who looked pretty well-off, but he was looking for pesh. I sent him off to find Jérôme, of course. Saw the guy again yesterday when came back looking for pesh again, all jittery. I offered him some free Jaune, like we're s'possed ta when they come back. He huffed off and I ain't seen him since."
The dealer goes on to vaguely describe monsieur Chauvin: the dusty brown bookie fedora and the opal ring. He mentions that he heard Gregorié might be crashing in the north apartments, but like most of what he’s talking about, the dealer assumes you’re in the know.
Thisbe nodded at the dealer, "Merde, I thought I was due for some better luck. Thanks anyway, camarade."
Thisbe turned as though she were going to leave, then turned back as though she'd just remembered something. She decided to scrape as much as she could from this dealer, even if it might out her. She'd gotten enough leads to work on from him, but she needed to get on with her day. "Hey, where's Jérôme at these days? Is he still near the north apartments? I ain't been on that side in awhile"
The dealer turns back as you ask your parting question, but gives you a puzzling look, as though he were trying to remember who you were from half a minute ago. He remembers again suddenly. “They tell me where to show up,” he gives you a shrug as you head for the north.
"That guy was completely out of his mind!" Little Boy gives a whisper-yell as he rejoins you from the shadows once you’re a safe distance from the dealer. "What kind of drugs are they giving these guys?' Little Boy’s knife was still held tightly in his hand as he walked, although he holds the blade down. He sees you notice the knife and puts it away. "Did the dealer say he saw our guy a few days ago? That gold might be gone, boss..."
-------
As you cross the main thoroughfare to the northernmost section of warehouses, a quick look about assures you that you haven't been tailed again. To the west, you can see all the way to the city wall. From the east, you hear the city bell, tolling to say that noon is not far off. In both directions you can see quite a bit of foot traffic: junkies and dealers lean or sleep against the tall walls of the warehouses on both sides of the wide avenue.
Strolling casually, you get a light tap on your shoulder from Little Boy, who's been following quietly and inconspicuously, staggered a few paces behind. He silently nods at a pair of junkies who are skittering away from a dealer. They ducking into an an alley by empty grey warehouse on the north side of the street. As you reach the alley, you follow carefully through an open door and spot the pair already across the end of a vast, almost empty, warehouse.
"They just scored," Little Boy whispers excitedly. "Gonna go find a place to squat for a few hours, I'm sure. Let’s follow ‘em." Little Boy seems confident about his hunch, and takes the lead as you stalk the pair from warehouse to warehouse. The junkies do glance behind every so often, but you both easily anticipate their moves and remain undetected.
You eventually reach a smaller, mostly wooden warehouse where you can hear a voice from inside. Peeking into the wood building from the shorter eastern end, you see the pair walking west, crossing the empty warehouse floor. You hear the voice echoing from an office at the far end of the warehouse. Through the broken glass of the large office window, you can make out a man waving his hands as he talks, presumably to people unseen, sitting below the waist-high walls of the room they’re in.
Vivid memories find their way into Thisbe's thoughts as she strolls through the Warehouse District looking for any signs of Chauvin. She was younger then, stalking the streets in search of her mother, wondering if this time she would find her dead. A panicky, sick feeling crawled up Thisbe's spine as she quickly forced the memory from her mind. I need to find Chauvin and get the hell out of this district.
At Little Boy's insistence, she followed with light steps to the warehouse on the east end. Thisbe paused once she could make out the voice from inside, sidling up to peek through the broken glass. She gave a quick hand signal to Little Boy: Going in. Keep lookout. She kept low as she crept into the warehouse, looking for good cover so she can hear and see the two men.
"The baker's man, it's the bakers," you advance silently during a pause, and the accustation from the man to the bare wind echoes through the empty building. "It's like, they make all the bread, but it's like they sold out to the state. The government, they just control all the food, and what are the people supposed to do? The bakers don't haven't...have, like, the power to rise up."
"Shut up," one of the pair you followed calls as he enters the office with the others.
"I'm serious," the rambler responds.
"So am I!"
As you creep nearer to the stairs and up to the second floor where the office is. As you get to the top of the staircase, you lose sight of the junkies in the office, but you can still hear them whispering on the floor, likely portioning their purchase. Finding a stack of boxes across from the open door, you get a good look into the office.
The two you followed have joined the rambler, and sit in the center of a room of surrounded by squalor. The edges of the room are lined with straw sleeping pads, which are bursting apart and are covered in grease. You can see two other junkies passed out in the corners of the room, and when you reach the door, you spot the one in the southeast corner wearing a brown coat like Gregorié. The smell grows with each silent step you take closer. The three in the middle are intensely focused on their score, which is laid out on a sheet of butcher paper on the floor.
The two unconscious men are in a deeply drugged state. The three murmerring appear to be frail commoners, that have visible signs of their addiction.
3 or 5 CR 2’s
After sizing up the junkies, Thisbe takes out two of her extracts and quickly downs them, becoming invisible and focusing her ability to scrutinize Gregorie.
With ghost-like steps and her rapier unsheathed at her side, Thisbe maneuvers herself into the office, her nose wrinkled at the disgusting smell within. Thisbe silently put herself just at Gregorie's back, her rapier leveled at the nape of his neck.
In a viciously low voice, Thisbe growls as she slightly poked Gregorie, "Make a move and you'll see just how smoothly my sword goes through your neck."
The three behind you have their head down in their work, and leap out of their skin as your low voice strikes deep into their hearts. Screaming and stammering, they shuffle away from your position on the floor like mice. One of them stands clumsily before making a run for it, out of the office toward the stairs.
The man at the tip of your sword doesn't move at all, nor does the other unconscious man across the room.
Thisbe eyes the junkie that flees, knowing that Little Boy is down the way, and let him pass. She wonders if he'd kill him, but the fleeting thought is unimportant as she held the man wearing Gregorie's coat on point. Merde, this better be Chauvin. With a rough movement, she grabs the back collar of the coat and roughly turns the man to face her, keeping her sword level with his throat.
As you move the body, Gregorié Chauvin flops out onto the ground. His eyes flutter a bit, but he is completely unconscious.
"W-wha?!" one of the junkies on the ground calls out.
"It's one of them!" the other answers. The pair scramble to their feet and run after their friend.
Thisbe, thinking she may need to question one of the other junkies, whips her rapier towards the nearest attempting to flee, yet keeps from attacking. Do you have a deathwish? I said stay put!
She quickly lunges after the fleeing man and attempts to grab him.
You reach out to grab one of the fleeing junkies...
with a quick tug at his collar, he freezes. He holds his hand up in surrender.
His friend continues to flee, but Little Boy steps out from behind a box to intercept him. Hood up with a piece of cloth covering his nose and mouth, he brandishes a knife. "On the ground!"
The junkie near the stairs drops to his knees. On the other side of the warehouse, you hear a clatter, as the first man who fled crashes into something before slamming the door.
"There! That wasn't so hard was it? Why don't you have a seat? We need to have a little chat." Thisbe says as she pushes the junkie to the ground.
"You see, I'm feeling irritated and impatient. I've wasted my morning tracking you worthless lot through this forsaken district. Yet as annoyed as I am, I'm not entirely without scruples, so I'll give you one chance to answer a few questions. And, if you don't waste my time, I'll let you go on your merry way to continue your pathetic life. But, if you do... well, I'll leave that to your imagination," Thisbe paused a moment, boring her calm stare into the junkie before continuing. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me exactly what you and Gregorie have been up to? Where did you get the drugs? Where's the rest of the money?"
After she gets the junkie's story, she turns to Gregorie, who she roughly shakes and slaps, attempting to wake him from his drug-induced stupor.
"W...w...we don't even know this guy," the junkie stammers as the stench of urine grows in the room. From down the hall, you see Little Boy turn his prisoner around and begin walking him closer to you at knife-point. "He just wanted a place to lay out on his score! We spent our last silver on this. We don't have any money."
The junkie's eyes dart as he talks, even as his eyes fall onto Little Boy, needing someone to look at while he talks. As he mentions Gregorié, his head dips toward his shrugging shoulder, betraying his lie. Scared as he is, the man's instinct seems to be to lie.
Thisbe rubs the space between her eyes in a show of irritation and disgust before slapping his face with her open hand. "I asked you not to waste my time and you give me piss and lies? Do you want to die? I have two more of you I can burn through, so I'd suggest taking me seriously. Tell me what I need to know. The next blow from me will be much, much harder."
"Alright, alright," he sobs. As the crying man composes himself to speak, Little Boy stops his prisoner just outside the door. He pushes him to the ground, and begins to bind his hands. "He just wanted a place to crash..." trough the tears, the junkie finally musters out a response. "We met him at Jérôme's spot, buying pesh. He spent all the money. He went out looking for more pesh yesterday, but he came back after dark with the Jaune.
"They don't even have knives," Little Boy growls to disguise his voice. He tosses a simple club on the ground, and pockets a small handful of copper pennies.
As you slap Chauvin to try to wake him up, he mumbles as though on the edge of consciousness.
Thisbe directed her voice towards Little Boy. "Tie up Chauvin. We're going to have to take him with us if he doesn't wake up."
"Where can I find Jerome?" Thisbe barked. Her task was very clear. Bring back the money. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she came back empty handed before her deadline.
“I don’t know where he is,” the crying junkie cowers. “He moves around, you have to ask his flunkies.”
“The dealer contacts I spoke to last night told me there’s some shady group out here running the warehouses,” Little Boy moves in to whisper. “This Jérôme could be the guy in charge.”
With a frustrated grunt, Thisbe turned away from the junkie and knelt beside the incapacitated Chauvin. She looked first for the ring, to see if he'd sold that too in his pesh binge. Taking a finger from this oaf was a small punishment compared to the hassle she would have to go through to recover his losses. What a waste! Chauvin had spent small fortune that could have done a lot of good in this city. Hell, even if he hadn't wronged the Boss, she'd still have done it to get that much closer to getting access to the books. What's one finger when it comes to the plight of an entire city?
That being said, she had some scruples and planned on taking his finger somewhere near the Sisters of Everbloom, then she'd anonymously leave him with a small donation. They would be able to stop the bleeding and ensure he'd heal without infection. However, she couldn't drag him through the streets of the Foreign Quarter bleeding out. She'd need to move him first.
After her thorough inspection of Chauvin's personal belongings, she turned to Little Boy, "We're done here. We need to get Chauvin to the Sisters, but we need to be quiet about it. We don't want Jerome to know we're coming."
With this, she turned to the junkie once more. "I need to borrow your body."
With a sigh, Little Boy hefts Chavin off the ground to give you a better reach into his pockets. Your first search into his pockets doesn’t turn up much, mostly scraps of paper for storing contraband that have been licked clean. As you grit your teeth and cover your hand to dig a little deeper, you find five pieces of gold and an opal ring. A small oval-shaped stone set in a wide gold band.
“M-m-my what?” Wide eyed and shaking with fright, the helpless junkie cowers against the far wall, into the other sleeper in the corner.
Thisbe, thinking she could perhaps use the junkie as a costume to take Chauvin's finger and carry him to the Sisters, took another look at the junkie to try to assess his ability. She sighed inwardly, fairly certain his body would be too weak to assist Little Boy in the manual labor. And, I'd have to take 3 baths to get the ick off that one. She shook her head, changing her mind. But she would have to do something with him.
"Forget it. You're going to find your way to the Honey Pot. I'll need you later and might have a bit of coin for you if you do as I say. Go there and wait for me. Tell Gunther I sent you and said to keep you busy. If I don't find you there tonight, I will hunt you down and kill you. Try me." Thisbe said then turned to Little Boy.
"We're going to need to come back when it gets dark. We need to drag him to the Sisters, but I don't want him to wake up until we do. Stay here and make sure he stays asleep. I'll be back at sundown. You got any problems with that? She said the last in a sharp tone to remind him of having his head smashed against a table just this morning.
With that, she decided to strike out to quickly make the rounds on her route for the day. Boss would still expect to see a take today, even with her special duties. She left the warehouse as stealthily as she could, her head down and still dirty from her previous attempts at disguising herself.
"Well boss," Little Boy answers nervously as he begins to bind the other junkies in the room. "I can handle these scumbags, no problem. It's that tail that had eyes on us earlier that makes me think twice. Whoever's selling this junk is watchin’ their territory pretty close, and I sure hope they don’t stop by here before you do."
"Honey Pot? What's a Honey Pot?" the dimwitted junkie asks, still shaking. The puzzled and strung-out look on his face tells you he may not be able to find the place on his own.
“I know a spot that might work. It’s north of the river too, but not too far from here. We can take Chauvin and shakey here, and leave the other two.” Little Boy’s eyes shift down as he speaks, and you’re pretty sure he’ll go along with what you say, even though he’s scared.
Thisbe rubbed her temples in frustration. Nothing about this has been easy and she'd begun to consider that she may have bit off more than she could chew. But Little Boy made a good point. "All right, we'll go with your plan. We need to keep our profile low as we drag him around, though. Let's get moving."
Thisbe glared at the junkie as she spoke, "You will follow us. If you run, I will catch you. You really won't enjoy that."
With that, Thisbe threw one of Chauvin's arms over her shoulder and lifted him up as though he were a friend who'd gone overboard and needed help home. She instructed Little Boy to take his other side. "Lead the way."
The junkie leads the way as you heft the majority of Chauvin's weight. Little Boy helps a bit, but keeps dagger hidden in his palm and watches the junkie carefully. As you step out of the warehouse into the mid-day sun. Chauvin stirs a bit.
"Where are we going?" he asks, his eyes still closed. To your relief, he begins to walk along weakly.
The rooftops look clear as you move through the streets. At each intersection, Little Boy springs ahead to double check. After only a few blocks you're clear of the warehouses, but you push on for a few more blocks before calling for a rest.
"We should be at the river soon boss," Little Boy says to you, his eyes fixed on your shakey companion. "Doubt we'll run into any Caydogs this far west. We can cross here, or we can keep going north and cross at Michelet's spot."
Thisbe nodded to the North at Little Boy's comment. "We'll cross at Michelet's. I didn't survive this long taking unnecessary risks."
Thisbe took a closer look at Chauvin, attempting to assess his relative awareness. If she needed to knock him out again, she would, but would prefer to keep him walking as long as he could. The whole morning was starting to wear on her and this grunt work was starting to get on her nerves. The last thing she needed was to lug around dead weight for the afternoon.
She was careful to also keep an eye on the junkie. She didn't think she'd lose him, especially after he'd nearly pissed himself out of fear of her, but she wanted to be ready to give chase if he tried to run.
"Let's get a move on."
Little Boy gives a little grin as you take his suggestion, but keeps moving along.
As you walk along the river from a block away, the noonday sun is high in the sky, allowing you to see a dozen blocks ahead. As you come near the bridge where Michelet watches, you spot a pair in the distance strolling toward you. Quieting your companions, you can make out the familiar *clunk* of armor from the patrolmen.
A nearby alleyway has large boxes stacked up, and it takes little time to fold Chauvin into a hiding spot before hiding the rest of you. Within minutes, you hear patrol pass the alleyway you’ve all hidden in. The junkie shakes and twiddles his thumbs, staring anxiously at the dagger in Little Boy’s hand. Another couple minutes go by before you’re sure the guards have passed. You confirm before continuing on your way.
Michelet, spots your group easily from a block away, and hustles over to help.
“Gregorié Chauvin,” the watchman remarks as he helps you set down your quarry. “Where’d you find this errant piece of garbage? And who is this smelly jerk?” with half a smile on his face, you can tell Michelet is not quite sure what to make of your situation. Little Boy looks to you, though you can tell he is eager to offer an explanation to Michelet if you defer to him.
With relieved sigh after having narrowly avoided the patrol, Thisbe glanced at Little Boy and considered him a moment. After their little chat this morning, it was a pleasant surprise to see Little Boy step up to the plate with this messy Chauvin affair. Perhaps he wasn't a complete waste of space after all.
Thisbe met Little Boy's gaze and gave a small nod to signal that she'd let him do the talking this time.
"We need a place to lay low," Little Boy suggests. "We gotta get this guy awake so he can face the big boss on his feet. I promised shakey here 5 silver to help me bring Gregorie in alive. We're gonna lay low in a spot I know. We don't want anyone taking credit for our work, if you catch my drift."
"Yes, yes, of course," Michelet nods. "You can count on me. Let's get you on your way." The watchman helps Little Boy lift Chauvin to his feet and across the bridge spanning the Kantele. Once on the north side, he passes the load back off to the junkie.
"We won't be far, I'll come fetch you if we need a hand," Little Boy says to Michelet before proceeding along the northwest bank.
As the three begin working their way up the street, Michelet gives you a nod, letting the others get a little further away before turning his back to them and facing you directly. "I hope everything is okay," he says, suggesting the opposite. "Is there anything I should be aware of?"
Thisbe knew better than give Michelet too much information. She'd prefer to keep Chauvin's decadent spending out of the bosses ears for know. She needed to get more information on Jérôme first and come up with a plan to get the money back. If Michelet reports seeing her drag Chauvin from the warehouse district, the boss would be expecting his gold back immediately. She needed to convince Michelet not to report seeing them today.
"Have you ever tried to solve a problem and ended up with a bigger mess than you started with, Michelet?" Thisbe asked conversationally, watching the three stumble their way up the street. "Seems like we've got a competitor in the Warehouse District, slinging jaune to pesh customers. We were tailed, then I found out the guy running the game goes by Jérôme. You heard of him?"
Michelet’s expression turns completely from suspicion to understanding. “I’ve heard of no one called Jérôme, but the jaune, I have seen, quite a bit actually. The warehouses have always been a center for squatters and drug users, but the jaune is new. I’ve heard they practically give it away to try and get people hooked.”
“It’s good you found Chauvin at least,” the watchman remarks, “but I’m sure that Anton will want to see him soon, whatever condition he might be in. And keep an eye on that one, eh?” he sticks his chin out at Little Boy, who is up the block admonishing the junkie for being lazy.
Thisbe peered at Michelet under her cap with chagrin, attempting to look as though she were confiding something in earnest. "I have to ask you to do me a favor, Michelet. Don't report that you saw Chauvin for me? It's only that once the Boss hears, he's going to expect results and I need a couple of more days to figure out what the deal is with this Jerome guy. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'll owe you one."
Thisbe hoped Michelet would help her negate the complication of having to explain herself to the Boss before she was ready. She knew he'd be looking for his gold, yet also needed to focus on freeing Pauline and her work with the Cerulean Council. If he got wind that she already had Chauvin, he'd either commandeer her time to find the gold, or consider her not finding it in the first place a failure. And Thisbe would not fail.
Michelet's expression softens, and he returns a very genuine grin. "I know the safehouse he's going to," he says. "Not an incredibly well-kept secret, but not many in the Vice know of it. It'll buy you some time. I'll see what I can find out about the juane dealings from around here, maybe I can meet you later at The Honey Pot."
While you've always been on good terms with Michelet, he seems to respond with a rare sincerity to your request for assistance. As if anticipating a skepticism, he extends an open hand.
Thisbe grasped Michelet's hand and returned his warm smile. "Thank you, comrade. Us underlings need to stick together, eh? I'll find you at the Honey Pot later on."
With a parting tip of her cap, she turned on her heel and let out a slow sigh as she sauntered off towards the safehouse. She was glad to have Michelet's assistance in finding out more about jaune and the mysterious Jerome, but she wondered what he would ask of her in return.
Thisbe needed to instruct Little Boy keep watch of Chauvin and the junkie while she quickly ran down their route for collections. A special job from the boss didn't mean her daily takings wouldn't be expected. She was hoping she could check in at the old furniture shop to see what the Cerulean Council had found out about rescuing Pauline. Thisbe kicked the dirt in frustration at her own lack of progress on that part, not wanting to give ground to the other members. She preferred to be the one most in-the-know. But her work with them would have to wait.
Once Thisbe reached the safehouse, she nodded to Little Boy. "Thanks for your help back there. You should probably work on your delivery, though. I'm headed off to do our rounds. I'll come back tonight to relieve you with some gold to put in your pocket. Don't leave them alone. I need eyes on them until I get back."
"We'll be fine, boss," Little Boy reassures you. "I told Freddy here that he can have a hit from his stash if he behaves. I got some food and water, and Michelet is nearby if anything comes up. Could ye' bring us some croissants when ye' come back though?" Nervous as he was in the Warehouse District, holding hostages seems to make Little Boy a good deal more confident.
It's been some time since Thisbe made rounds on her own. Although moving through the streets is much quicker without either of the boys, Moonday is the day with the most stops. Every tavern owner on your route hands over a handful of coins, most of them including a few gold.
"You're runnin' LATE," a familiar voice calls out as you near the halfway check-in. Tarynne, another slight woman tough enough to make it in Isarn's toughest gang, and one you've know since you started in the Vice. She waves and calls out loudly to you as you come into view of her intersection, as she usually does. Heads turn in response to the call, and people begin to hustle away. "Where are the boys today," she asks as you approach.