The detective nodded at Illendur, though his attention was mostly on Zander. "We're still gathering information. It's hard to tell anything this early on." He gestured at Zander with his little stub of a pencil. "From the ground it looks like you can see in pretty much every direction from up there. Is that right?"
Ash hurriedly hustled the boy away, ostensibly in search of a pastry - no need to alarm him... yet.
Kneeling by him, he asked, "Martem, do you have anything of your mother's? Could I see?"
Martem sniffed and nodded. He pulled out a cloth shopping bag. "This is one of ma's bags."
"Excuse me," she offered. "Officer, I'm sorry to have to ask, but...do you know if people are gathering bodies somewhere? The boy over there," she nodded to Martem, "Is looking for his mother. She has not yet come looking for him and it's possible...I mean..." Idrassa found herself genuinely pained as she trailed off. "I just want to rule things out." She concluded.
The detective looked briefly at Martem then back at Idrassa. He shook his head, a tiny shake. "I've had the Guard close off the..." he glanced at Martem "the crime scene. We don't want people walking all over everything." Which meant that they hadn't moved the bodies yet. "There were still a few people over by the smithy being treated by the alchemist, though, when I came through."
The detective looked briefly at Martem then back at Idrassa. He shook his head, a tiny shake. "I've had the Guard close off the..." he glanced at Martem "the crime scene. We don't want people walking all over everything." Which meant that they hadn't moved the bodies yet. "There were still a few people over by the smithy being treated by the alchemist, though, when I came through."
Idrassa nodded soberly. "Thank you," she offered. She glanced to the others. "I'll...take a look."
She walked back over to Martem. "I'm going to see if I can find your mother," she told him, with a reassuring pat on the back. "You wait here."
Before leaving, she gave Ash a distrustful look, obviously wondering what he was doing. But she said nothing as she made her way to the door.
Jixel had been sitting back and just quietly listening, quickly realizing that their visitor wasn't going to be inclined to give too much information away, and was probably just doing the rounds out of due diligence.
"I'm afraid that I didn't see anything before the explosion either, I was busy with... well... appreciating some cheese for a late breakfast to be honest.
Probably not exactly what the man had wanted to know, but it felt right to be honest about it.
"So friend, aside from helping the wounded, is there anything we can do to help you in your investigation? How do we best contact you if we learn anything important?
The detective nodded at Illendur, though his attention was mostly on Zander. "We're still gathering information. It's hard to tell anything this early on." He gestured at Zander with his little stub of a pencil. "From the ground it looks like you can see in pretty much every direction from up there. Is that right?"
Zander nodded, eyes glowing that soft, cool blue. "The tower does provide a superior sightline advantage," he reported, "while the observable field is not completely unobstructed for the entire three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, the line of sight is clearer from that vantage point than any other on the property. Clear vantage points do not provide significant advantages if one is looking in the wrong direction, however. At the time of the explosion, I was looking in the opposite direction. Rather than attempt to observe from a distance, I opted to descend, alert the rest of the occupants, and move to offer assistance. It is possible that remaining above may have gleaned more information, but I had no way of knowing that to be true at the time."
Idrassa (and Ash?), Trollskull Alley - Outside Steam and Steel
She walked back over to Martem. "I'm going to see if I can find your mother," she told him, with a reassuring pat on the back. "You wait here."
Before leaving, she gave Ash a distrustful look, obviously wondering what he was doing. But she said nothing as she made her way to the door.
Idrassa made her way out of Trollskull Manor and as close to the site of the explosion as she could. Like the detective had said, a handful of constables were positioned to keep curious or opportunistic citizens from getting close to the bodies. She could see other constables canvasssing the nearby buildings, while Aundairian Knights Phantom kept people from entering or leaving the Alley at all.
There were a handful of people still sitting or laying on the ground outside Steam and Steel- those who hadn't been badly hurt enough to move on to Trollskull Manor and a couple of people who the alchemist was actively treating and hadn't wanted Goggh to move. One of these was a young woman whose clothes showed she had been badly burned but whose skin was now smooth and whole.
Declan, Illendur, Jixel, Zander - Trollskull Manor
"So friend, aside from helping the wounded, is there anything we can do to help you in your investigation? How do we best contact you if we learn anything important?
The detective had nodded at Zander's explanation for why he hadn't spotted anything. "Oh well," was all he said. He stood up and smiled at Jixel. "I appreciate that, miss. I don't know if there's anything you can do to help but," he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small calling card to hand to her: Barnibus Blastwind, Detective Civilar, Precinct 11.
He nods at Jixel and Zander as he heads toward the door. "Looks like you couldn't see much from here. That's too bad."
"But," he turned to look at Illendur and Declan, "why don't the two of you tell me what you found in those people's pockets?" Whether on purpose or accidentally, he had positioned himself in front of the Manor's front door, blocking anyone from leaving that way.
Illendur fishes into his pocket, This bag of gems, and a strange key. he holds both out to the detective. Thought they might be useful to you, so here they are. There's nothing saying where the key is from, but looks very specific don't you say? Maybe to a vault or some such? A dagger with something dripping off it - I am unaware of who'd use such a symbol, or anything of the sort.
"But," he turned to look at Illendur and Declan, "why don't the two of you tell me what you found in those people's pockets?" Whether on purpose or accidentally, he had positioned himself in front of the Manor's front door, blocking anyone from leaving that way.
Declan winced internally, but busied himself finishing with this particular victim. He wrapped a blanket around the woman's shoulders and handed her a warm cup of tea. That done, he simply reached into his shirt and tossed the lady's bag towards the detective. He knew holding back would only make things worse for them at this point.
"My apologies, I do not generally trust constables not to pocket it themselves. I would have returned it to her family..." He glanced meaningfully towards the woman he just helped, "But circumstances intervened." He looked back to the detective, "You perhaps have time to stop by Massalan Villa?"
He made a mental note to stop by himself later on.
Idrassa (and Ash?), Trollskull Alley - Outside Steam and Steel
There were a handful of people still sitting or laying on the ground outside Steam and Steel- those who hadn't been badly hurt enough to move on to Trollskull Manor and a couple of people who the alchemist was actively treating and hadn't wanted Goggh to move. One of these was a young woman whose clothes showed she had been badly burned but whose skin was now smooth and whole.Before approaching the woman, Idrassa stepped out of sight and slipped the necklace out her pocket and into a slit in the lining of her cloak, spreading the chain carefully so it would not jingle. Tweety cocked her head in curiosity, but did not articulate a question and Idrassa did not explain. She also quickly counted out ten gold pieces, and placed them in the pocket where the necklace had been.
Then she stepped back into view and made her way over to the injured woman, glad that she seemed to have received magical healing. "Excuse me, ma'am," she offered politely. "By any chance, are you looking for a young man named Martem?"
Illendur fishes into his pocket, This bag of gems, and a strange key. he holds both out to the detective. Thought they might be useful to you, so here they are. There's nothing saying where the key is from, but looks very specific don't you say? Maybe to a vault or some such? A dagger with something dripping off it - I am unaware of who'd use such a symbol, or anything of the sort.
The detective took the bag and key with a bemused look on his face. Maybe he was surprised Illendur gave it up so quickly. "Thought they'd be useful to me, did you?" He chuckled and shook his head. Looking at the key, he said "Dripping Dagger Inn, down in Trades Ward. Probably where he was staying." Blastwind quickly tucked it into a pocket inside his coat, then opened up the bag of gems. "Hmmmm. That's a lot of gemstones to be carrying around for no reason. Most people prefer coins or bank notes." The gems followed the key into Detective Blastwind's pocket.
Declan winced internally, but busied himself finishing with this particular victim. He wrapped a blanket around the woman's shoulders and handed her a warm cup of tea. That done, he simply reached into his shirt and tossed the lady's bag towards the detective. He knew holding back would only make things worse for them at this point.
"My apologies, I do not generally trust constables not to pocket it themselves. I would have returned it to her family..." He glanced meaningfully towards the woman he just helped, "But circumstances intervened." He looked back to the detective, "You perhaps have time to stop by Massalan Villa?"
He made a mental note to stop by himself later on.
Blastwind chuckled. "Well, no harm, no foul since you turned them in to the proper authorities." From his expression he might even agree with Declan's lack of trust for the common constable. "Damn shame. We'll make sure her family gets the news, and her purse." The woman's personal effects went into a different pocket inside the detective's coat.
He pulled out his notebook and quickly flipped it open, scanning his notes, then looked back up at Declan. "Anything else you find out there on my crime scene?" If he'd learned about Illendur's and Declan's explorations of the victims pockets it was possible- no, likely given the look he was giving Declan- that he had also heard about Declan's short conversation with the wounded old merc. Or maybe he was bluffing and just fishing for information.
He pulled out his notebook and quickly flipped it open, scanning his notes, then looked back up at Declan. "Anything else you find out there on my crime scene?" If he'd learned about Illendur's and Declan's explorations of the victims pockets it was possible- no, likely given the look he was giving Declan- that he had also heard about Declan's short conversation with the wounded old merc. Or maybe he was bluffing and just fishing for information.
Declan smirked briefly at the declaration of ownership of the scene in question. But he didn't press. He simply shrugged, "I did not learn anything of consequence. I did ask around, but as I am a lowly civilian, I have little power to persuade." He shook his head. He frowned briefly before furrowing his brow. "There was one thing," he admitted, "A mechanical man was seen fleeing the scene." He shrugged signifying he couldn't make anything of it. Which was true - he had few clues except the existence of the nimblewright.
+8 if Martem will let it out of his sight so Ash can use Scent (he'll go into another room to shift and get the scent)
Stymied, Ash handed the bag back, and awkwardly patted Martem on the head. "Don't you worry, lad. We'll find her." He turned and approached Blastwind, intending to ask whether the detective might be willing to use a few of his own resources on the matter.
Ash thanked the boy, and took the bag aside. Yet even changed, he couldn't find hope. He would have frowned, if he could have in this shape. Blast! With all the commotion and stink of fire and flesh outside, this wouldn't help at all. Unless... unless he found a trail he could use. And Idrassa was heading out anyway.
Ash padded off after her, worried both about Martem, and about Idrassa.
Idrassa and Ash, Trollskull Alley - Outside Steam and Steel
Martem had guilelessly let Ash take the bag and the shifter was able to get a scent from it in the next room. Outside, though, the stink of sulfur, smoke, and burning wood smothered the alley in a nearly impenetrable blanket that threatened to overwhelm Ash's sensitive nose.
Before approaching the woman, Idrassa stepped out of sight and slipped the necklace out her pocket and into a slit in the lining of her cloak, spreading the chain carefully so it would not jingle. Tweety cocked her head in curiosity, but did not articulate a question and Idrassa did not explain. She also quickly counted out ten gold pieces, and placed them in the pocket where the necklace had been.
Then she stepped back into view and made her way over to the injured woman, glad that she seemed to have received magical healing. "Excuse me, ma'am," she offered politely. "By any chance, are you looking for a young man named Martem?"
The woman stared at Idrassa for a second, possibly recovering from a concussion. "Oh Host, Martem! Is he alright?" She started to scramble to her feet, head darting left and right as she looked for her son.
Getting closer, Ash was able to just barely tease out the scent of the shared soap under the smell of burned clothes and singed hair- yes, this was the woman whose shopping bag that was.
Idrassa and Ash, Trollskull Alley - Outside Steam and Steel
The woman stared at Idrassa for a second, possibly recovering from a concussion. "Oh Host, Martem! Is he alright?" She started to scramble to her feet, head darting left and right as she looked for her son.
"Don't worry, he's fine," Idrassa reassured her gently. "He's in the Trollskull Tavern." The young woman smiled. "Do you feel up to walking there with me? He's not hurt - I can bring him here if you don't feel like walking."
Vastly relieved, Ash slipped into an alley to shift back, and help Martem's mother hobble back to the tavern, or go fetch Martem, whichever way his mother answered Idrassa.
Martem's mother nodded frantically. "Dol Dorn himself couldn't stop me," she said as she struggled to her feet. "Do you mind if I lean on you a little?"
Idrassa and Ash reunited Martem with his mother and, apparently at Detective Blastwind's direction, a few Watchmen came in to help the wounded to clinics and temples (and take more interviews). Less than an hour after the entire affair had started Trollskull Manor was quiet again. Uncharacteristically but perhaps not surprisingly given the morning he'd had, Goggh was nursing an ale in a comfortable chair instead of working in the kitchen.
The east end of the Alley was still cordoned off but both the north entrance next to Trollskull Manor and the south entrance in between the bankers' townhouse and the trade envoy's residence were open. As the morning grew late the west end of Trollskull Alley was starting to fill up with curious gawkers and the Alley's regular customers. Importantly for the Manor, it would soon be lunchtime.
1) Martem's necklace.
2) Note and key on the dead gnome.
Supposition:
A) Zander's observations on the roof.
B) Declan's encounter with Floxin.
Investigate elf murders in Dock Ward- House Phiarlan (no results on Night 1)
Investigate explosion in Trollskull Manor- self-assigned
Personal hooks:
Ash wants to help the shifters and (I think?) owes Blaze a favor
Idrassa can be as involved or uninvolved with the arbitrage trade you set up in Field Ward as you want
Illendur agreed to go to dinner at his sister Fientia's- they're having a dinner party and she mentioned that Lillian from accounting will be there and she just broke up with her boyfriend
-we can play that out or just say it happens offscreen, up to you :D
Zander was interested in a clockwork bird he noticed flying east-west and back over the neighborhood and tracked it to a neighboring villa in North Ward
...something something run a tavern?
Background points of interest PCs have noticed:
There's a low level street war going on between Daask and House Tarkanan
There's a sea-faring circus that just got to town called the Sea Maiden's Faire
Completed:
Find Red Susie- street urchins
Find Maxeene/return Maxeene's familiar- Remallia Haventree/Maxeene
Protect clinic in Field Ward- ir'Cassalanters
Rescue Floon- Vordik Gaebler/Renaer ir'Nelview
Take noble handkerchief to contact in Dock Ward- Boromar Clan (or the Tyrants?)
Ash had taken to hanging about Goggh in what little time he wasn't coincidentally in the same general location as Idrassa and her serpent. He found the minotaur's presence and personality soothing, a hard-needed trait of late.
He wasn't exactly in Idrassa's company, at least not the same way. He was just always nearby. He hadn't decided what he would do about his sign from the Flame, at least, not yet. But staying near the one anointed by the Flame couldn't hurt. It could be a rough town, after all.
Goggh was still sore in more ways than one about the giant fireball. Ash found himself nodding along as Goggh less than subtly suggested that someone should find out what was up with that explosion.
Idrassa sipped a glass of wine, tired from her albeit limited role in events. She assessed the situation. The inn was closed to outsiders, it was just the Trollskullers now.
She slipped her hand into her pocket, as if accidentally, then suddenly started. "By the Host!" she exclaimed. "I forgot to turn over that necklace to the Watch." She laid it on the table.
"A beautiful piece of work," she added, examining it. Then, a thought occurring to her, she shifted into her second sight and examined the piece.
It was important to have the facts about the necklace if she were going to convince the other Trollskullers to sell it and split the take, after all.
[ooc]
Casting Detect Magic on this thing - is it magical?
Also, a recap of some recent events: She brought Martem's mother to the inn to meet him. As she escorted them out, and when she was out of sight of the (known to her) Trollskullers, she abruptly remembered that she had found the owner of the necklace and returned it. She told the mother and son that the owner had been so grateful she had given Idrassa a 10 gp reward, which Idrassa then passed to the mother to hold for Martem. Hopefully this has the effect of making the two negotiate between them about the money rather than pausing to wonder if Idrassa had really found the woman.
I'll leave it up to Kris to decide if cat-form Ash might have seen that transaction, and what he made of it. He was following her and surely knew she had not given that necklace to anyone.
It was just before noon- the Manor's official lunch time opening hour- that Renaer ir'Nelview opened the door and came inside. Seeing everyone assembled in the common room, he gestured back outside. "What is going on out there? The other end of the Alley's totally cordoned off."
Illendur looks up from where he was washing blood from the floor, Afternoon Renaer, oh someone decided to blow up the market down the street with a fireball spell. We're cleaning up and tending a few injured parties before we go take a look at a few people... You know... he says with unsaid violence in his statement.
"Host bless us," said the nobleman. "Damn, and I was supposed to meet someone here. I hope they didn't get caught up in all the police barricades." Renaer looked around the empty (save for the Trollskullers themselves) common room. "Am I the first person to come in today?"
Idrassa and Skylar Sidebar
It was another hot night, and the clouds hung listless in the breezeless sky. Idrassa’s garret room was comfortable enough when there was a little wind, but on nights like these it became stultifying. The young woman turned over again on her pallet and then gave up, deciding she would need a little liquid assistance if she were to find sleep tonight.
She pulled on the inexpensive linen robe she had procured since moving into the
Trollskull, carefully adjusting its high collar to conceal her throat. She wondered again if one of the inn’s other residents had noticed her odd habit of always keeping her neck covered, or worse yet had caught a glimpse of the markings there. Did someone suspect something? She had always worked so hard to earn enough to keep a private room to protect her secret. The human knew she ought to feel discomfort at having lost that protection, but she had to admit she liked having people around her.
She felt a twinge of guilt as she made her way quietly down the steps. The unspoken pact between Tweety and Idrassa was that the human would always summon the ophidian if she were awake and about. Tweety had never communicated exactly what happened to her when Idrassa dismissed her, but it was clear the serpent craved the material world. Idrassa had to dismiss Tweety when she slept, and Tweety bore it with good grace if circumstances demanded her absence. But Idrassa’s side of that bargain was supposed to be keeping her present whenever consciousness and circumstances allowed.
Still, Idrassa silently rationalized, she was just getting a drink and going back to bed. The effort of summoning the serpent was only going to stir the human to fuller wakefulness, and any pleasure Tweety took would be immediately negated by her quick dismissal. The young woman simply padded on, making her way to the bar and the open bottle of Thranish rotgut she remembered being there.
***
Skylar was already a quiet occupant at the bar, occasionally thumbing the bottle sitting in front of her without taking a sip. Mostly, her fingers nudged the bottle into rotating in small increments, gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance. Her hood was up, which hardly afforded her anonymity given the fact that everyone knew who she was, but perhaps it warded off intrusive thoughts while she sought to stay focussed on her own ambitions.
Her ambitions, and carefully edging around tricky things like feelings, and attachment. Declan. Working for the Cassalanters and recruiting young streeters to redirect their nefarious skills for good purposes had been a convenient distraction.
Stray strands of electric blue framed her face, and through the veil of her escaped tresses, she caught sight of Idrassa’s arrival through her periphery.
“The night helps me think,” she said aloud, as if in response to an unspoken question. She lifted the bottle a fraction in the most subtle toast. “There’s room. If you like. And options.”
“Thanks,” Idrassa nodded. She padded over to the bar and found the bottle she was looking for, then poured herself a glass. Then she slipped into the seat opposite Skylar.
It occurred to her that there were questions she had wanted to ask Skylar for some time, but had always rationalized avoiding the conversation because there were people about. That was not true now, though, and with the option before her she suddenly felt deeply uneasy about it. There might be things she did not want to know.
She hedged, starting with simple pleasantries. “Rough night?” Idrassa asked.
Skylar’s smile was a ghostly one, the slightest upturn of the corners of her mouth, subtle and fleeting before her face was neutral again.
“Mm. No. If anything, I like the night.” The night was a thing she could wear. You could disappear into it. Stare at the stars. Lean into shadows. Listen to the whisperings of the creatures that moved through it. Wake up street urchins and offer a job, at least, after they’d gulped down some air from the shock of seeing her cowled silhouette against the moonlight. She was lucky if they didn’t try to stab her, first.
Aloud, she said: “You look like you have something on your mind.” Her gaze flitted meaningfully to Idrassa’s glass, then to the younger woman’s eyes.
“I…” Idrassa began uncomfortably. She broke off and took a long pull from her wine before she tried again. “You’ve…studied magic right? Principles and theory, I mean, something about how it works?”
“Something like that,” Skylar said languidly, inclining her cheek against the back of her fingers, elbow propped against the table. Her gaze was watchful, studious. “You’re not sure about asking. Whatever it is, ask. I’m sure you wouldn’t ask if you had the answer yourself.”
“I don’t,” the younger woman affirmed. “But there’s…context.” She sighed, and looked uncomfortable. “Look, there are things I should have told you sooner. You were a good friend to me when I came to Throneport, and I really needed you.” Idrassa looked pained, and seemed to have trouble meeting Skylar’s eye. “But that wasn’t the first time we met. We met before, in your family’s home. I was Katra d’Orien then, you see.”
Idrassa seemed concerned at how Skylar might respond, and an explanation began spilling out. “I wasn’t trying to hide it, I mean not really. At first I thought you’d recognized me and were just choosing not to say anything, and I wasn’t sure why you’d do that, but I thought there might be reasons. And then by the time I realized you really hadn’t recognized me, you’d already told me you were leaving, and I wasn’t sure how to say something after that much time. So I…just let it drop. And after you’d been so good to me, I think that was probably not right.” Idrassa delivered her apology tensely, obviously uncertain how Skylar would respond.
“Hmm.” The silence that followed stretched, with Skylar’s green-gold gaze taking Idrassa in. There was just the suggestion of a sly smile, the lightest scoff, and a glance elsewhere as an errant thought game and went.
“You had your reasons. You were a child, then. We have all kept our secrets,” she said, eventually, her gaze meeting Idrassa’s once more. “Theon trusted you. That was enough. Had I known it was you, I might have done the same. Mine was a life I left far behind me. I was uninterested in the toxic trappings of the duplicity of noble life. Sometimes, we are not ready to be our entire selves. Sometimes, we are not ready at all.” Her hand fell away from her face, and she straightened, settling her arms on the surface of the table, folding her hands over her forearms. “So. What would you rather I call you? Who you are is beyond a name, and you were the same person then as you are in Throneport, and now.”
That was the most Skylar had a tendency to say all at once, but the shift in awareness of their history seemed to dissolve a barrier. Idrassa’s tale was a familiar one, one that echoed her own, and Declan’s. That she was honest even after her innocent deception made her trustworthy.
Idrassa’s tension seemed to ease as Skylar spoke, but the last seemed to draw her attention. “Idrassa,” she answered intensely. Then she forced herself to calm. “Idrassa,” she repeated. “Using my old name would give House Orien the right to kill me, and in any case it’s not my name anymore.”
She shook her head. “But I think names might matter in other ways. I mean…” She seemed unsure where to begin.
“When my mark manifested, I…had to leave.” Her eyes showed the pain, reflections of the brutal ceremony that had drummed her out of the only family she had known. “I was on the road, it was only a couple of days later, when Tweety came to me. I just found her…curled up next to me. Like she had always been there. I was grateful enough to have her with me.
“That was about the time my sorcery started to manifest,” Idrassa continued. “I honestly don’t know if it was before or after Tweety came. I thought then they must both have something to do with the mark, but I don’t really understand these things. I guess that’s what I wanted to ask about. Have you heard about things like this? How marks work, how sorcery comes in?”
The other woman simply listened. She heard the hesitation, the catches in Idrassa’s voice, the hesitation to share. She recognized that this was a powerful demonstration of trust. Familiarity. She understood the pain that came with departure out of necessity, of recognizing the painful and humbling reality that came with recognizing family didn’t equate respect or kindness.
She suppressed a shudder, remembering Sylas. Her brother. Indeed, the price was often steep and brutal.
“I understand,” Skylar said quietly. “Believe me.”
She looked off to the side, pensive. There was something tugging at her memory, something of the time that her life and Idrassa’s were similar. It stirred, like the detritus at the bottom of a pond, bubbling to the top.
“I’ve heard of unusual things, with Dragonmarks. The what, not so much the why,” she said, with honesty and sincerity that surprised even her. “I don’t know enough about Dragonmarks. You are the biological daughter of two different Houses, are you not? I wonder what that might do. My knowledge of magic is much more…specialized. Perhaps I can do some delving.” She looked pensive, and continued, “It does sound related to– to Tweety. Like a familiar.” She met Idrassa’s gaze again. “What else changed?”
“Yes, two Houses,” Idrassa confirmed. “My best guess is that the second House is Cannith, but I don’t actually know.” Her voice drifted slightly into anger here as she remembered the quickness and ease with which her mother had fled.
“As to what changed…” The young woman took a deep breath. This was the thing that scared her most, the thing she thought might be the most important but that she understood the least. “I…don’t know if it means anything,” she began carefully. “After I was excoriated,” she forced the word out, struggling with it and realizing it was the first time she had spoken it aloud. “They took my name. And I accepted that, immediately. I never claimed it after that, not even by accident. But I was avoiding people, just getting away from the city, not talking to anyone if I could avoid it. And I didn’t – I didn’t need a name. So I didn’t take one.” Idrassa looked Skylar in the eye. “When Tweety came to me, I did not have a name.” There was a special urgency as she added, “Does that matter?”
Ah. Skylar was not altogether much older than Idrassa, truth be told. More seasoned, perhaps. Less angry? No, but where Idrassa’s anger was that of a blazing fire, Skylar’s was more tempered, like the heat of a forge. She knew it all too well. So did Declan.
She and Idrassa had much to talk about. Just not now. For the moment, the focus was on Idrassa’s abilities.
She seemed particularly trained on the loss of her name. There was weight behind the way she spoke of it.
“Idrassa,” she asked quietly, “When you say they took your name, was there a ritual? Or is it about the importance you attached to your name? You speak of it as though someone could take your identity from you, when it is a thing we make for ourselves.”
“Well…” Idrassa trailed off hesitantly. “I mean, lots of stories claim names have meanings, don’t they? And I didn’t want the names or the things that went with it. They were all a lie.” It was only as she said it that she realized it was true.
A ghost of a smile crossed Skylar’s half-shadowed features. She was still young. Idrassa was younger. Had she ever been that young? The essence of it?
“Perhaps,” she said, “but we also are allowed to reclaim them. Make them our own. Change their meaning. But you get to decide what you call yourself, and what that means.” She took in a quiet breath, and went on: “So. Whatever happened, it was important to you that you had no name. You also happen to have a magical mark on your body. It makes sense that you might change its nature by changing your very self.” She offered a shrug. “It might also be an idea for the midden heap.”
Idrassa seemed to consider that. “I don’t know where that leaves things, then,” she said. “I guess it would be nice to believe I had some control over...what I’ve become. But where does Tweety fit in this? Why would she come to me?” This was clearly another heavy question.
Skylar’s shoulders shifted in a quiet shrug.
“That, I can’t tell you. Maybe we can find someone who can. Or maybe Tweety can tell you.” Her gaze met Idrassa’s steadily. “What you’ve become is surely just you, right?” There was a note of rebellion there in her voice. Her expression softened. No, that was unhelpful. Unconstructive. Knowledge here wasn’t just an illusion of control, but would perhaps give Idrassa certainty and command of herself. These were unknown waters, after all.
She held up a hand as if to ward off any anticipated protest, and added: “Sorry. Knowing, in your case, isn’t just about identity. Being magical-blooded, knowledge will guide you to become your strongest self, right?”
Ha. If her brother could hear her now, spouting off prattle as if she knew what she was talking about. Skylar was well aware of the complex internal mess that she had somehow schooled into some semblance of control and direction.
Idrassa looked over Skylar carefully, aware that she seemed to have offended the woman but uncertain exactly why. “Asking Tweety is…complicated,” Idrassa explained. “She doesn’t tell me everything. Some of it, I’m not sure there are words for in any language we share. But I think there are rules for her, too. And taking her to someone else, well, that might have its own risks.”
Finally she simply blurted the question she had been dancing around. “Is it possible she really is a Couatl?”
Skylar stiffened; she existed so much on the edge of fight or flight that all it took was a nudge. Idrassa’s abrupt question was a good nudge. She was still mulling over the complicated nature of Idrassa’s relationship with Tweety.
“Possibly,” she said, eventually. “Perhaps…we need to visit a magical library? It sounds like you might like some company doing so. It’s sometimes helpful having two. I don’t mind. If you like.”
“I’d like the help,” Idrassa confirmed. But she still looked dubious. “But who do we trust to have the answer? And who could we trust with the answer? I mean, if it’s true…if she is…” She trailed off, obviously pondering a variety of bad outcomes. “It’s an awful secret. A huge one,” she concluded.
“Not awful. But a secret,” Skylar said. Then, in what she hoped was a reassuring tone, went on: “We don’t have to trust anyone. Or tell anyone why we’re looking. We’re just researching Dragonmarks. And…anything out of the ordinary. I know how to act the part.” She raised her bottle as if to say, well? Shall we?
Idrassa wanted to be inspired by Skylar’s confidence, but even as she smiled and raised her glass in agreement there was a flicker of doubt behind her eyes. Still, her resolve was clear.
“Let’s see what we can learn,” she affirmed.
"Host bless us," said the nobleman. "Damn, and I was supposed to meet someone here. I hope they didn't get caught up in all the police barricades." Renaer looked around the empty (save for the Trollskullers themselves) common room. "Am I the first person to come in today?"
Goggh grunted from his table. "You're the first... visitor today, milord" the minotaur smiled, some of his fangs showing through the smirk as he referenced the nobleman's frequent (and not always fully paid at the end of the night) patronage. "Who were you supposed to meet?"
Renaer shook his head, frowning. "A gnome named Dalakhar. A servant of my father's." His father, the disgraced former head of the Stewards' Council who had been forced into exile after a huge scandal a few years ago when he was deposed in favor of the current head of the Council. He actually wanted to meet with me, really. Sent me a message saying he had something to give me."
The young nobleman and friend of the Manor sighed. "Damn. I never much liked that gnome but I hope he's alright."
Idrassa frowned. realizing it would be best to say something. She palmed the necklace again before speaking.
"I'm afraid I have bad news on that front," she told "There was a gnome found dead after the blast and...I'm told he had a note on him about a meeting here at the Trollskull. I'm sorry," she added sympathetically.
Your contact may have been a target in the firebombing that happened earlier this morning. We found him quite dead and with a note about coming here to meet, apparently you. Anything about your meeting in particular stand out why he'd be assassinated? Illendur asks Renaer.
Renaer bumped his fist on the table. "Damn." He looked at Illendur and Idrassa. "You really think somebody took him out with a bomb? My father has enemies but that's a bit drastic, don't you think?" The young nobleman sat down, thinking.
"And I'd hate to think any innocents were hurt because of some stupid machinations Dalahkar was doing on his behalf." Renaer frowned. "Do you know if he was carrying anything? He said he was trying to get something to my father but couldn't deliver it and wanted to give it to me instead." He glanced at the door. "Should I go ask the Watch, do you think?"
Ash cleared his throat, "accidentally" nudging Idrassa with an elbow.
"Can you tell us more about the sort of things Dalahkar was doing? Maybe the sorts of people he was meeting with? Other than your father, of course. Did he say why he couldn't deliver it to your father?"
Idrassa shifted in her seat at Ash's nudge, uncertain what he was trying to communicate. But she maintained her silence, content to let the Shifter guide this part of the conversation.
Illendur nods, There was a fair amount of gemstones on him, and a key to the Dripping Dagger Inn. Seemed like a payment to me if I ever saw one. Detective Barnibas Blastwind, Precinct 11 has the gemstones now. And I'd wager he was going to head to that Inn and check the room quickly. He seems the thorough sort.
Renaer shook his head. "No, not really. My father had him skulking around watching me and reporting back. Father's up in Thaliost, you know." He made a face, perhaps unconsciously, at the thought of his father. "I expect Dalahkar was going to tell me when we talked."
"If someone wanted to kill him, they were probably watching the port to make sure he couldn't get out of the city." The group's friend and patron frowned. "Damn. Too bad you weren't able to get any more information." Renaer looked back at Illendur. "Wait, you said the detective has the gemstones. Does he have that key you mentioned?"
Illendur nods, Yes he does, I couldn't hold them back, but here's the note he was carrying.... he offers sheepishly, holding up the note, Maybe we could get to the room before him and get in through hook or by crook?
"Someone of us might be able to," Ash said thoughtfully. "If the detective isn't already there."
Reflexively, he looked around for Jixel and Peekee, then managed to ignite his two brain cells and looked at Declan questioningly instead.
Ash had been quite shy about his... skills with the group, but if someone else were to attempt to get in, it might provide the necessary distraction...
Renaer nodded as he took the note from Illendur. "Hopefully he had to file some reports before he could follow up on your clues. He certainly wouldn't want to walk around the city with a pouch of evidentiary gemstones in his pocket, would he?"
Declan shrugged to Ash's look. "I'm less stealthy, more..." He then waved a hand, manifesting a few glowing orbs around his head, which he dismissed in short order. Another shrug, "Sky was always the sneaky type. But I can tiptoe when I need to."
"Let's proceed over there, then. We might as well try. Goggh, can you hold down the fort?"
Goggh grunted and stood up, taking his used dishes with him. "I should start prepping for lunch. Hope the staff can make it in. I'll be here either way."
With Maxeene pulling them, the trip down the High Road only took a quarter of an hour instead of half an hour. The intelligent horse was an amazing navigator, steering the coach like a fish swimming down a stream. They probably couldn't have gotten there faster if they'd had a Watch escort.
The Dripping Dagger Inn was right on the High Road past Selduth Street, with a porte-cochere right on the busy thoroughfare. Unlike most of its neighbors in Trades Ward the Inn didn't have any flashing illusionary lights or dancing figures or signs encouraging passersby to come in, just a worn wooden plaque with a painted dagger dripping blood that matched the symbol stamped on the key on the gnome's body.
The inn was a flat, four story rectangle, about thirty feet wide by fifty feet long, with a driveway leading around back, constructed of fieldstone at ground level and timber above. A groom greeted the group as they pulled in, taking Maxeene's lead to hold the horse and take it around back to the stables.
When the group opened the door to go in, a voice said "When the raven walks in the day, the well is in danger."
Inside was a comfortably shabby tap room with a long bar the bore the scars of many brawls and furniture that looked easily replaceable. The smell from the kitchen, though, promised better food than the decor hinted at. At the far end of the room, stairs led up to the second floor.
The clientele scattered at the tables around the room was an eclectic group. The only thing they seemed to have in common was that they probably couldn't afford nicer accomodations.
On the ride over, Idrassa sat pensively, Tweety coiled at her feet. Finally, she offered.
"If you want to get up to the rooms, a distraction might help," she offered. "Tweety and I can go in first. She draws lots of eyes. I'll talk to the proprietor, and maybe the rest of you can slip upstairs. And if the detective comes in, I'll try to stall him."
Ash nodded, relieved. "Does anyone here have any skill with locks?"
Zander somewhat surreptitiously raised one hand, almost hesitantly.
"I have some experience in mechanical manipulation." He said, his voice quiet.
His other hand removed a set of delicate-looking tools from a pocket of his red leather tabard-coat.
"Sounds as though we have a plan. For the-! Uh... let's go."
Idrassa nodded to the others and entered the inn. A mental exchange prompted Tweety to fluff out her wings just a bit, putting her splendid plumage on display.
The human approached the person she judged to be the proprietor of the inn, making her way around the tables in a way that brought her up to one side of the innkeeper. This, Idrassa hoped, would force her interlocutor to turn away from the door to face her.
"Excuse me," offered Idrassa hesitantly. "Could I have a moment of your time? It's about one of your customers."
Dripping Dagger Inn - Idrassa (Tweety)
It took a few seconds for people to look over, but as soon as the crowd spotted Tweety the customers started murmuring to each other and telling their friends. Soon every head was turned in Idrassa and Tweety's direction. The bartender looked up and stared. "Uh... what? Um, sure. What?"
The others had to skirt around the walls to get to the stairs but nobody was looking in their direction. Even a gold, crystal encrusted warforged was unremarkable when there was a coatl in the room.
Dripping Dagger Inn - All but Idrassa
Above the ground floor the building materials changed from stone to wood. A man with a patch of the Twelve Shields sewn onto his right sleeve hustled down the steps, barely giving them a glance as he presumably went to work. The stairs on the first floor all started with 2 and the number stamped on the key was 414, so the group walked up to the fourth floor.
They met no one else on the stairs, and the 4th floor hallway was empty. Room 414 was seven rooms down the hallway, on the left. The door was shut and locked tight.