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"Funny, my father said the exact opposite. The best ally is one you can turn into an enemy. Or the best ally is an enemy? Or the enemy of our ally? Something like that. He was missing most of his skin at the time but you need surprisingly little of that to speak." Castor and Pollux return to contemplative silence.
Pollux is quiet on the ride back into the city. Perhaps they find carriage rides agreeable? Once back "home" in the coffee shop the stranger declines the steaming cup and heads down stairs to check in with Rexus and see if any more walls have fallen down. Castor riding calmly under Pollux's unruly hair. .
Pollux replies to Points as the stranger fails to bring their hair under some kind of control. "The dead can be quite useful. But too long in the water causes problems. Foot rot, they walk right through their own skin and fall over." Pollux pulls a clean pigeon skull out of their hair.
Pollux proves surprisingly useful in assisting Opera in setting up the tent. "Fair Carcossa is below the horizon this month so it's not that dangerous to sleep beneath the eternal void." Once the tent is up Pollux starts arranging the wood for a fire. Castor darts about finding dry moss, twigs and a fresh bird skull to use as kindling. "A fire will draw less attention than the tent will in the moonlight. People move through here on occasion. Besides one should never pass up an opportunity to set something on fire." Unless stopped Pollux will light the campfire just a little too close to the tent.
"Yes it does." Pollux says as the fire bursts into life. Staring into flams with Castor on their shoulder the stranger begins to speak-sing with an odd cadence."The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
Apologies to Yeates and Ginsburg.
A voice emerges with some difficulty from a heap of billows and traveling blankets.
Pollux seeing the rest of the Ravens take to their heels skips after them gently humming every other note of a well known children's song.
Seeing that most things are under control Pollux removes some chalk from the unspecified recesses of the yellow coat and begins drawing disturbing symbols on the pathway.
Pollux moves around the west side of the pool and smiles as their gaze falls on the westernmost hound.
Now that his target is awake and much less interesting/edible Castor Scurries back to the warm safety of their pocket in the yellow coat. Pollux draws a thin long bladed dagger and looks (longly?) between it and the pile of bodies. Smiling they change their mind and, humming softly, they skip rapidly to the west.
The stranger removes a strangely stained cloth from the depths of their coat and grips it in their hand as they stare at the last of the southern guards. ] The world seems to jump and stutter as the poor man skips a groove on their Akashic record. If Mr. Smiley does not startle Opera awake then Castor will begin enthusiastically and deeply licking his ear.
The stranger moves to shadow Variel. A dark shadow darts from the shrubbery and vanishes into the pile of bodies. Pollux calmly watches the guard approach from the east.
Pollux removes a live cricket from their hair and carefully places it on their tongue before closing their mouth. Pollux lets the cricket jump three times inside their mouth before swallowing it alive. As it dies Opera and the two guards near him feel a wave of lethargy and ennui.
Beornand Variel hear in their ear, the sound sliding under the music. "Bring them together and they may go astray.." There is a scent or rotten meat and old cheese as a weight vanishes from your shoulder.
... By the gods, man, cover yourself up. Is there no decency left in the world? "no"
In any case Pollux will be 5' behind the fighter/meat shield types. Likely Variel. Assuming Pollux can at least brush against him every minute or so and the intermittent muttering doesn't get on anyone's nerves Variel will find his mind and body more steady than either should be. The world is almost painfully clear.
Abyss: Re bastard: It was never exactly established. In my head it was a cadet family with some connection to House Thrune. It was them overplaying that connection that got them pruned from the family tree. But that is only the way Pollux sees things and they are occasionally unreliable.
Re:oil. Pass. turns out Pollux just does not have the cash.
"Oh Points and Shelyn are quite correct. I am a nutter compared to a slave to pain and a goddess whose eyes never leave her alleyways. And the difference between "me" and "it" is really too small to merit distinction. " Pollux gives Points a seemingly significant side eye as Castor walks between her legs and climbs into the pocket of the yellow coat. "The only pity is that more people don't understand that. It would make life easier."
Now rat enabled Pollux speaks in a businesslike manner. "No time for hopes and dreams we have a tengu to kill." they take two steps, pause as if they were remembering a past error, shake their head, shove their hands deep in their pockets one of which squeaks and resume walking.
Pollux's face goes blank and in the most emotionally expressive voice you have heard than use they say "I have no living relatives." Returning after a pause to their usual affect "Hope like reason, sanity, compound interest, and the horse collar are the fife and drum that make us dance. I understand you do not hear this music.' Pollux pauses grimacing and continues, speaking carefully and with clear effort.
Pollux takes the opportunity to see if the foolish apothecary in still in business and willing to sell any of: Arsenic, Belladonna, Hemlock, Halo Mushroom Toxin, Oil of Restfulness, Ossivane, Pupil’s Friend, Purple Keif, Red Bedlam, Striped Toadstool, Wolfsbane or anything else quickish (<10 min onset) that will kill or debilitate a large dog.
Mind you Pollux probably does not have the skills to recognize most of these apart from the rat poison that Castor's fan was leaving for him as gifts and the aforementioned hemlock. But hope springs eternal as the hangman said to the oligarch.
...Pollux I would hesitate to use the poison as it is not the dogs’ fault they are being starved. Better to free them, feed them, or put them to sleep. ...[/b] "Ah sentiment. I understand. Better to let them have their 4 years starving on the streets than sleeping once with a full stomach. Hope is a cruel mistress. I expect Points likes her." Pollux shakes their head. You can almost hear the thinking shift. "I have some magic to induce a waking nightmare, but only for a chosen few. It is less reliable than a knife or parsley. But it may serve."
Pollux writes a note detailing what Castor has learned about the rat hole. and silently hands it to either Shelyn or Mr. Smiley. Whoever is closer.
That done Pollux speaks to the group in a soft almost sad voice. "I can remove the dogs from the equation. I found an apothecary who respects their trade too much to practice it. They know they are unworthy. On the lower shelf just behind the counter third in from the door side is a simple brown jar. It contains enough well dried hemlock that carefully administered, would ease the population pressures in the Devil's Nursery. With some poor meat and some of the good salt to pound in along with the leaves the canines will soon loose interest in the proceedings. Pity we do not have time to steep it in oil. It could remove the citizens as well. You can do so much with a ham and cheese sandwich. I don't suppose the upstanding fellows would enjoy a salad? No the dosage is to random that way. Some might survive."
Seeing Points flip back and forth Pollux mutters softly "That horse her mettle from her rider takes.." To Mr. Smiles. "That was no random raid. The music, the murder by wall, and something quiet that stifles Castors creativity. Not chance but action." To Points. "Twist the little birds as it amuses you to make them sing. The song will not please you. The hand that pipes, that pressed Mr. Shirt, that wrote the letter, and oppresses the Ruler in the Walls walks among us but is not of us." The stranger stops. "Yet this is different, new. They act at a distance. Are they growing in power or anger? Or have they found a cat's-paw to take their counterpoint. Maybe your dance in the house of your betters will mark a path. Yes, try. Our eyes are dimmed by weight of woe and it is time for Castor's bath." With that Castor leads Pollux deeper into the Lair. The two connected by the stained red thread on Castor's lead seek food or rest or things better left in darkness.
Pollux speaks to Points as the door opens. Their gaze going vague and unfocused.
"hmmm" Pollux hums and rubs their chin. A bit too much time goes by. Just before anyone gathers the will to interrupt Pollux speaks. "A letter...Not who but why?..."
"If the author knew about the place that isn't here then why not reveal all?" Pace pace, turn pace. "They know about the salt but not the teeth" Turn pace turn. "More importantly, they are telling the truth when fabulation would bring a better reward." Pollux freezes in place. "They do not want this place raided." The stranger states matter-of-factly. "They want exactly what they got. Suspicion, pressure, a thumbscrew is not an wine press." Pollux looks at the ceiling. "I would suspect the fish-dropper of playing a prank but this lacks their wholesome rustic style." The yellow coat resumes pacing, it's occupant staring fixedly at the ceiling. "They know too much and say too little to be just a twitch in a curtain." Pause. "Is it someone trying to help? Flood the hobnails with letters in several hands and decreasing clarity until all worthy suspicion is dearly departed. It is a good plan, remind me to ask you about it later. We will need more fingers." Pause, turn. "Cannot answer not enough words. Goodness and light rare in this city. Discounting help for now.."
Pollux stops pacing and stops staring at the ceiling. "Yes, I think it is. The action is small and orderly. Pity they didn't leave the letter. Graphology can reveal much about a writer... Hostile but, not catastrophic. Creating a risk to this place, but not to specific persons and holding no risk to themselves." Pollux nods solidly their neck popping loudly after looking up for so long. "Our formerly undead friend might prove useful if they care to. They can poke and slide where angels fear to tread. Even if they do not find anything they might push our epistolary piper to precipitate action and push us in the way of more information." "Opera had an idea. Do we know where this letter calls home and habitation?"
Castor immediately begins stuffing their cheeks with the coffee beans. Pollux surveys the wreckage. "I like what you've done with the place. It looks more "Lived in" somehow." Pollux picks up a stray bean from a near perfect boot print in spilled flour. "I assume our loyal friends were filling these hob-nails?" Pollux crunches the raw bean between their teeth. "Did they say why they came calling or were they just in the neighborhood?"
Still reading, or at least pretending to, Pollux pipes up. " If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly." Pollux tosses the play onto the table and rolls out of the chair to stand up. "Or at least completely. If our imaginary friend is going to be a Raven then it needs room at the roost. Besides setting a figment against a phantom may wile away a long winter evening."
Still sitting upside-down in their chair the yello coated stranger opines. "Hmm I don't remember getting painted in a ladies house. But Castor says I am an unreliable narrator."
Pollux, still reading. Reverses in their chair until their legs are over the back. The play held over their face as their back rests on the hard seat of the chair. They speak in a calm matter of fact voice. "The city is as doomed as we are. If we ignore the Mayor the city is ground to obedient dust. If we kill the Mayor, Thrune sends the army and the city is ground to obedient dust. If you seek success then flee..There is only failure here."
"Oh we gave up on good ideas long ago. Too many ideas to bother rating them" Pollux wanders towards the door. "Did you catch your friend that isn't?" The stranger feels in their pockets. [b]"It appears they stole a pouch that once belonged to a diva. It was useful."
Pollux snags the play and finds a seat at a clean table to read. Midway through the stranger states to no one.
As Pollux reads the traps and triggers begin to fire one by one.
Continuing to Ignore anyone else in the bar Pollux saunters seemingly at random and muttering. Castor attentively scampering about
Pollux ignores points and heads for the kitchen. There they carefully navigate the slime until they find a rope and bucket. Lowering the bucket down the oyster hole they fill it with water and draw it back up with some difficulty. Again walking carefully Pollux take the bucket over to the prostrate Shelyn and proceeds to dump the contents over them both. Now marginally less wiffy the stranger looks for a snack. "Are there any turnips left?" says Pollux as their eyes rove over the space looking for clear, supported out of the way places for the rum soaked smaug to store treasure.
Pollux pauses midstep. "I was clever just then. I should try to do that more." Pollux turns and heads back to the bar. Castor climbs onto the strangers shoulder. One of them begins to whistle.
On seeing the gear with the Micro-Dragon Pollux does a rapid mental inventory of everything they own and neatly detach any emotional significance from where it might be encrusted on something so transient as an object. Equanimity restored a distant anger fills the stranger. Pollux considers the neighborhood and the likelihood of the airborne pair of future boots making it to a hiding spot before the Mayor's mighty minions or the voracious maws of the many-headed interfere. Pollux rejects the interference idea stillborn. This thing has a plan. As Beorn begins to run Pollux moves to the window and, unless the target is well out of range taxes a careful shot with a little used light crossbow. . I suppose hitting the net and spilling the loot is not in the cards so we will settle for base . Following the shot Pollux will move to follow the speeding Beorn.
Words are scattered now within and between the laughter. Words of welcome, entreaty and command.
Does the spell land? Pollux is laughing…
Castor however does begin to smile.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...
The stranger's laughter grows more robust. Several patterns of laughter, almost several voices are issuing from their throat. There is something basic here, something wrong.
Surprised by the piscine downpour Pollux lets their concentration slip and Merelda gets a mouth full of flaming wax and heavy wooden candlestick. Covered in rotting blood and slime Pollux begins to titter.
The smell rolls off the rotting pile and flows into you. All smell all taste is rot. There is nothing that is not rot. You are rot.
"No, don't know where she's been. Castor is a rat of wealth and taste after all. But that is an idea." The burning purse is dropped scattering pebbles about the table.
Not receiving to their questions Pollux rotates on their stool and rests their back against the table. They reach into the yellow coat and remove a small cloth bag. Individual raisins rise from the bag and float alternately into Castor's and Pollux's mouth. "Oh right,The Horde." Pollux ostentatiously removes a coin purse. Takes too long opening it. Removes a single copper. Holds it up for inspection, and flicks it vaguely towards the cloak. . Which the coin overshoots landing solidly in the fire. In the meantime Merelda's coin pouch levitates[ooc{assuming it is withing 30'}[/ooc] over to the table where it hovers just above a lit candle. As the pouch begins to smoke the stranger glances at it once and feeds Castor a raisin. Message to Shelyn and Mr.Smiley: you feel the whiskers brush your ear again."Asking for money now. Opera appears to be enraptured and some small things are on fire. If I sent Castor in could you give him a pastry? Melodrama gives him an appetite."
Hmmm this is interesting... What did your horde look like? What was it's exact value and denomination breakdown? Were there gems? What size, type, and color? Any of the first water? How about artworks or jewelry? Fine weapons, commemorative plates? Cedar hope chest filled with a lace wedding dress yellowed with age and lost hope?" The curtain closest to Pollux, assuming it is within 30', opens revealing the stranger tilting forward attentively on their stool holding a pen and a spill of paper already half covered in notes. Castor sits calmly on the table, half a sprig of catnip dangling from his mouth. "Where did you last see your horde and what was it wearing? And what were you wearing? Answer the second question fist." The stranger raises their eyebrows attentively.
Taking advantage of the pneumatic distraction Pollus curls their left hand into their cuff. Touching a bit of forgotten wire tucked into the seam the Stranger Messages Shelyn and Mr. Smiley in the kitchen. Pollux's voice sounds from just over your left shoulder, close and just out of sight. Almost as if Castor had climbed onto your back and is gently, softly, whispering to you in his masters(?) voice. You can almost feel the whiskers. Base illusion. Sound and fury signifying nothing. As usual. We are playing someones game. I wonder why and who and why I wonder. Your mock-dragon is likely here. Points is working with it and Opera has gone a whiter shade of pale. You would think someone who has worked around dressing rooms...The thing wants something. All this stagecraft means it's afraid if us. Do we recruit it of bake it in that lovely pastry I smell? The table tilts suddenly before righting just before the candles fall over.
Tying the cloth into a neat bow at the wrist Pollux resumes the yellow coat and an expectant look. The flaming log floats slowly back to the fireplace.
Suddenly becoming businesslike Pollux forcefully points at Points in the best Ace Attorney fashion, incidentally scattering more blood about the table and audience. "You are correct! We have a rebellion to foster and a Mayor to kill! We have" The stranger's voice goes deadpan as Castor peeps above their shoulder. "no time for pointless theatrics." Plucking a string from the abused shirt and taking up the splinter Pollux mutters a phrase in Shadowtongue and releases some Arcane energy. A large flaming log rises from the fire and floats over to Pollux. The Stranger lights the candle and the splinter from the log before placing/tossing the still burning splinter in the bowl. Pollux then takes a large cloth handkerchief and begins to calmly bind their arm, wrapping the cloth in the same spiral as the cut. In a merry voice they explain "Shallow cuts hurt the most and they bleed a lot. They clot fast though especially of you use a sharp knife and are careful to bind the wound closed."
"Oh you didn't say there was going to be juice!" Pollux chimes enthusiastically.
Pollux slides an arm out of the yellow coat and drops it off one shoulder revealing a well made formal shirt. It was white once but is now stained a multitude of colors. The bloodstains look old at least, well not the one on the cuff.. Pollux takes the silver knife and glances at is suspiciously. Shrugging they use the knife to neatly open the exposed sleeve from the elbow. As the cloth falls away it reveals some impressive burn scars. Looking at the fish knife again Pollux comments, "...you are right Castor. If it were done..." Dropping the silver knife Pollux swiftly draws a much larger poniard and with one smooth continuous motion cuts their exposed arm in a spiral pattern starting from under the elbow and ending at the back of the hand. ( hp damage) The long shallow cut bleeds profusely and decoratively especially as Pollux has to hold the arm above their head at one point to maintain the spiral. "Is this good enough?" Pollux asks bringing their arm down and spattering fresh blood across the table.
Pollux walks in the door speaking presumable to Castor. "...things went much smoother after we killed the Fat Man for undercutting our coal delivery racket.." Pollux stops short. "Oh they survived. Hello!" The stranger walks up to the forming group and plops down taking a seat on the floor. Castor climbs up to sit proudly on a nearby stool. Pollux pulls a set of jacks out of a pocket and begins to play. "This is one of the few games where I can reliably beat Castor. He has trouble after the fourth round. He says I am exploiting an unearned evolutionary advantage. I say I can't be blamed for a simple concatenation of circumstances. Then he yells at me for bringing cats into it and stomps off in a huff." Pollux tosses the small sand packed 'ball' into the air and swiftly sweeps up a tiny caltrop, a broken knucklebone die, a small marble, and a badly tanned bat wing. "I just like jacks."
"So long as you can afford the toll Shelyn, being swindled is indistinguishable from being in love. " Here Pollux produces a small whisk broom and starts brushing a tomato stain off the yellow coat. "Who am I to hobble true romance." Pollux makes a meandering way back to the lair. Watching for a tail, or for the rest of the dragon, or for the long arm of the law, or muttering crowds of discontent. General watching.
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