With a grunt of effort and flexing of sinews, Odebie finally bends the stone to his will. It moves slowly, almost stubbornly, with a low rumbling. Beneath the stone is a small, square hole in the floor.
Fi and Osric miss - the elemental moves with alarming speed as it senses new things to burn.
With a shared glance, the group decides to escape before escape in no longer an option. The elemental licks at the heels of Fi and Osric as they run
Odebie assists the old ifrit, and the others go down, one by one. Byron goes last. Contrary to his typical loquaciousness, he only gives a small smile as he tosses a bomb directly toward the ceiling - the weak spot gives way as he leaps down, covering the hole with wooden beams and chunks of stone.
Splash!
After a short, gut-wrenching fall, you are all knee-deep in water. Very, very hot water. Almost boiling. The steam is back, and the ruby can only partially absorb it as you travel downstream.
"Oof! Well at least the heat's good for the muscles. Let's hope Leoni and Lara weren't planning on coming this way too."
Byron hands the ruby to Odebie, giving a quick explanation that it will absorb most of the ambient heat, as well as the steam.
There is no sound save the rhythmic splashing of two ifrits and an oread. The tranquility of the narrow stone tunnel masks the chaos and furor above.
After ten or twenty minutes, you emerge at the bottom of a deep stone bowl where several other pipes converge. Unlike the pipe you just came from, several are obviously sewer pipes. There is a ladder that leads out.
You are still in the Steam Slums, but the ruby affords you a much wider view than you are used to. You cannot see Mister HQ, but a bright orange smudge to the south informs you the fires are still burning. After a moment, an impossibly loud groan, followed by a deafening crash, echoes through the Slums.
Out of breath, the ifrit wheezes, "Alessandro. Thanks to you, for all you did."
Out of immediate danger Fiordelise, looks down at herself suddenly smirks. "Well, at least I'm not wearing a brand new dress this time."
"Well we're out but hardly out of danger especially if this fellow is somehow working with efreeti which certainly needs to be stopped if it's the case but for now we may need to rest and oh I probably should have told Eldon I'd be a while and not to touch some of my experiments..."
"Speaking of efreeti however I might add that the ruby is very likely easy to track given its unique nature so it might be possible to use it as bait for an ambush assuming we have the strength to do so."
"An intriguing suggestion, and more prudent than what I was contemplating. I was thinking we should smash the thing on the off chance the legends tying an efreet's life to a ruby are accurate.
Other alternatives I've considered are having Odebie bury it hundreds of feet underground where only an Oread would be able to recover it, or taking the long road and tossing it over the border into the darkness. Sane people would probably take it to the temple and have them deal with it, but they're nearly as bad as Corazon."
"Corazon's been cautious so far, if this is valuable enough he's going to come after it, perhaps we should get somewhere more advantageous to us? We don't know where the temple stands, so I agree there."
"Let's just focus on where we're going next." Odebie follows the newly-named Alessandro up the ladder. "Does anyone have a safe space, ideally a hidden one?"
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"The way I see it, our primary goal is to get a safe place to rest and plan. Our secondary objective is to learn what exactly Corazon is. Therefore, I suggest we go to the watch, let Odebie brief his superiors, and turn in Connor."
Osric takes Connor by the shoulders and looks him in the eye. "Of course, you always have the option of resisting, but your usefulness to Corazon has ended. The prison is probably the safest place for you now. You've seen how ruthless he is, and he won't want you talking." He hesitates before continuing, weighing the morality of his next sentence. "Besides, there's an unrepentant sylphan gasper who loves debating philosophy in the prison. You guys will have the best of fun together, I'm sure."
Byron frowns in thought. "The Dims Watch may not be the safest place but admittedly it's probably better than just about anywhere else right now so I suppose we might as well."
"Don't be so quick to offer the Watch - my commander warned me that the other men may not be trustworthy, and I'd be shocked to find that gasp-maker still alive. I don't see a better option, though. As for the ruby..." he thinks for a moment. [b]"We need more information. The temple records may help, if we can gain access, but it would be best if we kept the ruby itself far away from them. I like neither burying it or tossing it into the darkness; I fear what might come across it and what they might do."
"I am reluctant to leave the stone unguarded. Perhaps we should split our forces, Byron can look for information, I will keep the stone with me?"
"Oh, I'm certain Corazon has agents within the Watch, but he knows we've used Fi's manor as a hideout before. It wouldn't be hard to track down either my apartment or Byron's lab, and the temple would ask too many questions of elens seeking shelter. Unless the whole volc'ing watch is corrupt, there's still enough good guys there to at least let us get some rest."
Osric gazes fruitlessly at the orange blur in the distance. "I wonder if Leoni and Lara made it out."
Byron looks back. "One would assume they would have turned around and returned to us if they had encountered trouble but it is possible that the trouble was too fast for them but we may well never know unless we encounter them again or sift through the ruins and even then it would be difficult..."
Though Connor seems to be slowly regaining his mental faculties, he is still submissive and dazed. "Aye, you crazies have done me square so far. Lead on." Odebie's fashioned crutch lasts for another few minutes, then it shrinks back into a small nail, falling to the ground with a clink-clink. By then, Connor has recovered enough to walk on his own.
A quick jaunt north, and you are out of the Slums. The mists slowly close up after you leave, resembling a puckering wound. You can no longer see the flames of the Mister headquarters. A single tear runs down Alessandro's cheek. He murmurs to no one, in Ifrit, "Il mio cuore è spezzato."
Heading east, you arrive at the Dims Watch without further incident. In the failing red light of evening, the snuffer above the crooked door of the Watch takes on a sinister meaning.
Osric dispels his illusion and walks in without knocking, counting on being recognized. To whatever desk clerk is around, "Good evening. We have a prisoner, but more importantly, some information about why the city is burning. We would like to be debriefed by Odebie's captain, if he's available. Please keep this sylph separate from the one we brought in yesterday, but close enough that they can talk to each other."
The desk clerk, an orange ifrit seemingly too young to shave, is about to respond when a high-pitched voice, with a thick sylphan brogue, erupts from across the room. A thin sylph, his face decorated with fresh bruises, is being held in a vice-like grip by an oread guard Odebie recognizes, but cannot recall the name of.
Speaking directly to Byron, the sylph says, "Bird! Me birdo! Teese amadáin brook into your voolc'n hoose and taut Oi had soomthin ta do wid all dis cac that's been goin' on! Tell 'em, bird! Tell 'em Oi jess god ta toown! Tell 'em--" Without a change in expression, the oread guard punches the sylph in the stomach and begins dragging him away.
Byron frowns. "Eldon was a guest at my house yes and he did to the best of my knowledge just arrive unless he'd been skulking about before finding me which seems unlike him so what connects him to the recent trouble?"
"The more interesting question at hand is why the oread entered your house in the first place. What do you have to say for yourself, servant of the watch?"
Dit gaan al goed.
The walk from the sewer exit to the Watch had given Odebie some time to think, but that hadn't changed much. There was an ill wind blowing to be sure, maybe the foulest Odebie had ever seen, but the lessons he learned at his father's knees still held true. Set your feet, have faith, and wait for it to pass.
The only question was how many more would die before it did.
"Please, both of you, remember you are guests here. That said..." he turns to the guard. "Please do answer their questions."
Fiordelise holds her tongue, unsure of quite what is going on.
The oread guard, older than the desk clerk but younger than Odebie, looks around uncertainly at all the attention he is receiving. Addressing Odebie, he says, "Got a tip the occupant of the 'ouse was connected to the explosion at Brightfield. Went in, saw a bunch of alchemy junk, and this one starts yellin' at me in sylphie-whatever. Given the recent trouble, sir, seemed better to take control a' the situation rather than end up with anotha' crater in the ground."
Keeping a tight grip on Eldon, he continues, "You willin' to vouch for this bloke sir, or am I takin' 'im to a cell?" There is no challenge or malice in his voice; he seems to simply be covering his own rear end.
Byron looks at Odebie. "Eldon is an old school friend of mine and when well-rested is no more likely to accidentally blow anything up than I am and I hope you didn't touch anything," he looks over at the other oread, "Some of my experiments are very delicate and while not likely to explode or catch fire if disturbed the results would certainly be compromised and..."
Suddenly he trails off and frowns as a thought occurs to him. "A tip?" he says, oddly slowly (for him). "Given the enemies we've made..." Byron trails off into silent thought.
"Forgive my impertinence, Odebie. I meant no disrespect.
In a sense, this "tip" is quite accurate, though clearly misleading." Osric unconsciously rubs his neck as he patiently explains what must have already been in the official documents. "Our connection to the explosion is that we stumbled into a booby trapped Gasp lab while running from those who poisoned the brutbreve players. I believe the intention of our perhaps not so mysterious tipster was for Byron to be hauled off, not Eldon. This would substantiate our theory that Corazon has laid out plans for each of us, which means there will likely soon be trouble for Odebie here, if not present already."
He realizes what he's doing and intentionally wills his hands down and grips the hem of his shirt. "Odebie, if you wouldn't mind, as I was... indisposed yesterday, I have not had a chance to question the gasper. I believe Connor's presence here might have a loosening effect on his tongue, one way or another."
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"...is no more likely to accidentally blow anything up than I am..."
"That's comforting. I can vouch for this 'Eldon'; the alchemy junk wasn't his and I was with its owner during the explosion. Your welcome to, Osric, though I'll need to go with you - don't get your hopes up. I think I know what the trouble for me will be, but there's a larger cloud on the horizon." He looks to Fiordelise. "Where, exactly, is your brother right now?"
"What? I don't know, he went out just before v'Manco arrived." concern crosses Fiordelise' face. "I should go find him." ever the impulsive Fiordelise moves to leave.
The private holding Eldon salutes Odebie, and gives a shrug to the bruised sylph as a halfhearted apology. Without a word, he runs off down the hall; it is apparently a busy evening at the Watch.
"Sir?" The young ifrit pipes up, addressing Odebie. "I'll see about the Captain, but I know he's pretty busy. Anything I can pass on that will convince him to see you?"
Eldon spits on the floor, in the general direction of the departing oread that punched him in the stomach. "Care ta tell me h'what's goin' on here, bird?" He points his chin at Odebie, his copper eyes blazing with anger. "Friends with gards dat would cac on a sylph soon as look at 'im? Tree-kissin' boolies that hide behind a unifarm?" He holds has arms wide in a disbelieving challenge.
"It seems we have made a low enemy with friends in high or at least higher places someone mixed up with Gasp dealing and vengeance who likely used a tip to the guards as an attempt to attack me and got you instead," Byron explains. "Now are we simply going to allow Fiordelise to walk out of here alone given the likelihood of attack on all of us and our associates?"
"Have you seen the way she wields that blade, Byron? Do you want to try stopping her? That said, you should be extremely cautious, Fi. I would like to interview V'Manco with you, and it just wouldn't do if you got yourself in trouble...well, more trouble anyway."
Eldon steps closer to Byron, anger radiating from his clenched fists and stiff back. "Shar, dat explains quoit neatly woi the gard came and beat the cac outta me for no damn reason, but it don't quoit explain woi yer walkin' in buddy-buddy with a bark-head tree-kisser gard that'll do the same ta you soon as yer back's turned! That's all they're good fer, bird! Cacann in yer face and callin' it anlann seacláide!"
Byron frowns in confusion. "I'm not quite sure what you're saying Eldon I've never seen any sign of such behavior from Odebie indeed I likely owe him my life after recent events as he likely owes me his so I must say your accusation is unfounded."
"Save your breath, Byron. Prejudice is only ever overcome by a long series of uninterrupted positive experiences and the toughest feat an elen can accomplish, admitting they're wrong."
With the long exhausting day creeping into his voice, "I'm sure you're a delightful elen, Eldon, but your shallow racism is both tiresome and unprofitable. If you wish to make yourself useful Byron would probably like to consult with you about some, shall we say, rare materials and their practical applications. Presumably it will take some time for the captain to arrive, and there's no sense wasting time.
Odebie, shall we proceed?"
"H'Well bird, sance Oi'm doon gettin' poonched fer bein' a sylph and it sounds like the trunk-stroker over here," he hooks a thumb toward Osric, "is aboot outta hot air, Oi'm goin'ta see if ya got the ingredients for some dimshine back at yer place. Oi need ta wash the taste 'a knoockle outta moi mouth."
He spits on Osric's shoes on his way out. "Eat dirt and doi, ya pluck."
"Lets." He leads the way to the cells, pausing on the way. "Fiordelise, take someone with you if you plan to leave. Best to not be alone."
"I am not some princess in need of protection." retorts Fi without thinking, concern breaking her (somewhat limited) reserve. "I have no objections to company, but if my brother is in danger... he's all I have."
Fiordelise decisively leaves the Watch. She heads to the v'Ricci household, as she remembers her brother was planning on visiting the sisters that afternoon.
Odebie, Byron, and Osric escort Connor and Alessandro to the cells. The old ifrit's tremor is more pronounced, and his head sags with exhaustion. Connor's eyes dart back and forth, nervously scanning the hallway and the guards that pass you by.
The odor reaches you before you see the sergeant. In front of the door to the cells, sitting in a hard-backed chair, belly hanging over his pants, is Sergeant Gad. As the stout oread chews a piece of sulfur, he shows you his yellow-stained teeth. "Back again? Might I inquire why I should even let you in here? Your beloved little nutcase has his own personal babysitter after that last fiasco, so explain to me what official Watch business you're on right now." His eyes are tired, and the beginnings of red-brown prickly stubble grace his jowls.
"We've arrested the only known survivor of the poisoning of the brutbreve team. As it turns out, they were anti-gasper terrorists being manipulated by someone with much more ambition. All we know so far is that he wanted to kill the misters and he's succeeded in burning down their compound. I believe putting Connor here in the same cell as the sylphan gasper will loosen somebody's tongue in regard to information on our person of interest. Is that official enough for you?"
Gad rolls his eyes and scratches various areas of his body. "Volc, I don't need another dressing down by the Captain. Fine, knock yourselves out." He scoots his chair just enough to allow you to squeeze through the door.
"Thank you." Odebie looks Alessandro up and down, saying "If you'd like, there are chairs in the lobby. You don't need to see this."
"I believe I'd rather stay with him just in case and avoid another exasperating conversation," Byron quickly adds.