ZincAboutIt
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Lita turned, making sure that Laurelai was still within earshot. She didn't much like having her back to the majority of the party, so she edged around until she was angled halfway between the Ghostbloods and the balcony. What was Laurelai doing with that server? Seducing him? Lita felt herself grin. She'd pay good money to see that. "Whoever's running PlasmaCore is putting a lot of stock into our collective curiosity, and I have to say it's rather working. Rust and ruin but I do want to know what it is they're really up to."
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Lita felt her mouth twist into a bit of a real smirk at the woman's irreverent tone. "At least you got a meal out of it," she said. "I very nearly had to assault a server to get a few crackers. It would be such a terrible shame to die hungry. I fully intend on going out stuffed to the gills with pastries, myself." She looked at Ciera, taking in her confident air - that was no surprise, with all the power at her command. "I am, indeed, from the Dark Alley. And you must be from the Ghostbloods, seeing that you aren't trying to bake brownies at me or whatever it is that TUBA does." Lita waved a hand absently. Upstanding moral citizens were about as interesting as furniture, and half as obligingly useful. Lita gestured sideways at Okame, introducing him properly. "This is Okame," she said, silently willing him not to divulge either of their inexperience in the guild.
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Renata shook her head at the question, thoughts racing. "Only the ones leading up, but you never know with houses like this. There could be a cellar door somewhere, but I'm stormed if I know." Lighteyes and their absurd houses, Renata thought, cursing herself for one of the Ten Fools. The other two women cowered with her as the house continued to shake, and the girl in her arms whimpered a bit. "Brightlord!" she called to the Shardbearer. "If this house collapses, we may need you to cut a way out. Get over here!" @Ark1002 Ordinarily, Renata would have been mortified at her casual tone towards a man of his rank, but she had no time for it now. Fear later, she thought, repeating the words that had urged her onwards up the slopes of the Horneater Peaks. Fear later, fear later...
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Ahh, well, now I know who's in charge, Lita thought, taking the woman's raised brow and raising one of her own. A channeler - two channelers, now those were rare, even in the Alleycity. And she even demonstrated her power, how generous. Lita looked at the woman and let some of the charm slough off her smile, cracking it into something sharper, more jagged. "I'm Lita," she said, sipping her wine. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but, well..." she looked at the blue flame in the woman's hand. "And you are?"
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Renata's eyes widened as the flaming logs tumbling out of the hearth puffed away into mist. "Storms," she whispered, watching as the young doorman fell foeward on the stairs when one of the steps also turned into cloudy air. "Oh storms!" She should have run for it, should have taken the risk. As the tower rumbled and groaned, Renata spotted one of the younger girls cowering near a wall. She darted over, snagging the girl's wrist and tugging her back into the arch of the hallway beneath the crossbeam. "I don't know what's happening," she said over the low groan of stone and iron and wood, "but if it's anything like a Highstorm we'll want all the stability we can get. If the house comes down, we might survive it here." @Kidpen
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Lita stood to follow Laurelai, picking up her purse and motioning to Okame. @Invocation "If my legs feel cramped, I can only imagine how yours feel," she said to the Horneater. She watched Laurelai almost crash into a server, catching him at the last second. Odder still, her brow furrowed in concern as she pulled back, her voice almost breathy. She had changed again, like she had in the tavern. Fascinating, she thought, turning back to Okame. He towered at least a head above most of the crowd. I wonder what it would be like if he put me on his shoulders. I could see everyone. Lita snagged another glass of wine from a passing waiter and positioned herself at the edge of a small group, turning up her tin so she could hear Laurelai's conversation. There were only so many people to choose from up here, so she had maneuvered herself and Okame at the edge of the Ghostblood table. Knowledge is power indeed. She turned and addressed the man who had been rolling a ball of fire around his hand during the speech, putting on her most charming smile and allowing her fur wrap to dip and show the edge of her shoulder. "Enjoying the show?" she asked. "That was quite a trick with the fire, our hosts should take lessons." @Vargo Seldon
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Lita almost choked on a mouthful of wine, covering her mouth and coughing through her laughter. "Indeed," she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I, personally, don't just give up my soul to the first corporation to buy me a drink and some mediocre cheese and crackers." No, indeed, the little voice sneered. You bought your own drink in the tavern with Laurelai, and waltzed down to the Alleys without so much as a roasted cashew. Lita felt her cheeks redden, hoping that no one saw the color in her face. "Might as well stick around until the fireworks begin." Laurelai muttered on Lita's other side. Lita turned, hand going to the coin in her pocket, still cold against her thigh. She leaned towards the other woman, keeping her voice low. "Something is up," she whispered. "That coin, it's face changed. The picture is different - or was, I don't know. It's too light in here, I don't want to take it out now. But something is weird about this place." @Voidus
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Lita huffed and relayed the man's closing remarks as the curtain slid shut, glad at least that the representative platform had faded back out of high scrutiny. A low buzz of conversation immediately struck up when the lights came back on, everyone trying to figure out what, exactly, was happening. "Certainly fond of the theatrics, these 'PlasmaCore' folks," she muttered. "I don't suppose we can leave as he suggested? If we got back before winter we might not even miss the remainder of the speech..." She turned to Laurelai, then Okame. "Looks like we've got time to kill. Over-under on whether or not this really is just a harmless, fancy party trying to wheedle chrysts from our coffers?" @Voidus @Invocation
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Lita dimmed her tin as the light returned to the representative platform, squinting only slightly and sliding the coin back into her pocket. Ah, she thought. So it's money they want. Well, that was a danger of its own, though considerably less bloody. The image on the screen of the man with a spike through one eye unsettled her a little, having just glanced at the coin. I certainly hope this isn't some kind of omen, Lita thought, putting on a practiced, careful smile as people turned to look up at the rep platform. She had entire body available for spiking, but her eyes were burdened enough, thank you very much.
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“Great,” she said, tapping her finger against one of her brassmind bracers. “Well, if this all goes to hell at least we’ve got that plan. First plan, I’d say, is a quick alleytravel back to the Alleys. Make sure you follow me or Laurelai closely, and try not to look at the sky while we’re in the Alleys. I think it might devour your soul or something...” Lita shrugged, then took a sip of wine. “Not sure. Best to be careful though, when one’s soul is concerned.” She turned back to the stage and the blue-skinned man, thinking. Her fingers strayed to the coin again, and this time she took it out of her pocket. It was cold, colder than she’d have thought after it resting against her leg all day. She glanced at its face, then froze. The scales were gone, replaced by the spiked skull. Lita turned it over - the image was repeated on the other side, identical. What in all the worlds... A chill moved over her then. Hadn’t she just been thinking about this image? There is always a price. She looked up again, glad for the darkness that hid her sudden pallor. Lita leaned over to Okame. ”Something isn’t right,” she whispered. “Whatever this is, it isn’t going to end well.”
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Lita chewed her lip, thinking. Part of her - a larger part than she'd like to admit - wanted to alleytravel out immediately and leave this whole mess to ruin. She couldn't help but think that they'd all been sent in here blind. "I know you don't fight," Lita said quietly, keeping an eye on the stage in case the man began speaking again. "I'm next to useless in a scuffle but I'm pretty decent at stabbing someone with a dagger." She nodded at her little purse. "Could you stick someone to the wall, or the floor or something?"
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Lita raised an eyebrow at him. Sarcasm, or just stating the obvious? It was hard to tell with that accent of his. She shrugged. "I doubt they'd kill us up here - that would be tantamount to declaring war on every great guild. They might hold us hostage though, which would be inconvenient. You can see spren, right? Are there any here that we've missed, anything that could be waiting to ambush us?"
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Lita turned back to Okame, suddenly glad for his intimidating presence. "I sure hope it isn't," she whispered back. "But I'm starting to wonder that myself. Keep an eye out for anyone who gets within a dozen feet of us, and stay on your guard."
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Aldred swore quietly. Ten, and that was only this one gang. "Have you seen it? This thing, have you seen it?" Something caught his eye then, something in Reiner's pocket, the tip of a feather peeking out. It snagged on a brief memory, the figure of a young boy pushing his way out of the Half Moon Tavern when they'd arrived. Aldred snatched at the feather, ignoring Reiner's cry of terror, and pulled a small red floppy hat out of the thief's pocket. "Oh blighted gods," Aldred whispered. Liezl's words came back to him, "barmaid and errand boy out of commission in one day... he's probably sleeping outside the bakery..." What had his name been? "Fritz," Aldred murmured, noting the size of the hat - small, made to fit a boy no older than eight or nine. He held the hat up to Reiner's face, shaking it as a small vein of panic seized him. "This boy, when did you jump him?"
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Lita twirled her pen, noting the images on the screen, the choice of words. One word in particular stuck out. Use. The man spoke grandly, his speech all about the rewards. Rewards, but no costs. Lita's fingers brushed the coin in her pocket, heavy suddenly, as though it could feel her thinking about it and responded in kind. Balance. The world, and the spike through the eye. The sorts of things the speaker was discussing always had a cost - so what were they, and why invite so many people who were likely unwilling to pay that price? There was an uneasy feeling beginning to uncoil in the pit of her stomach, something strange about this place. She glanced sidelong at Laurelai, wishing she could talk but not wanting to be overheard. Lita still had the copper alleycant medallion strapped to her upper arm, and with it the knowledge that she could send a message somewhere else. Laurelai had her own pen inside her safepouch, she could see it twitching furiously. Hoping that she didn't send a ridiculous message back to headquarters, Lita twirled her pen in what she hoped was the right manner. Mixing investiture - isn't that basically what we do already? Why bring everyone here, instead of consult with us first? Mac ought to be a first point of contact for this sort of thing, but it seemed like this invite was the first he'd heard of it. Something is off here. @Voidus
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"Right," Aldred said, pulling some calm into his voice. "As eager as I am to see us rid of our thief problem, perhaps we should take this opportunity to question him about our true quarry?" At least the rest of the kids got away. Aldred's heart was far from soft, but he had no real desire to watch an enormous bear rip a bunch of youths apart. Reiner's eyes darted towards him hopefully, and in the artificial twilight he really did look quite young, maybe even younger than Aldred had originally guessed. He wasn't sure he could convince Mutig to spare the thief, at least without drawing the bear's ire onto himself. Stupid move, Reiner. Aldred sighed, crossing his arms. "You want to tell us whatever it is you know," he told the thief, not even bothering to hide the intention behind his words. Magic spilled out of his mouth, weaving around Reiner, a strange corruption of Aldred's old blessing. He still wasn't sure how it worked, only that the magic that made him the Itinerant was not what he had once carried as a Sayer. "So, let's try again. What do you know about the thing that is stalking these tunnels? It'll have preyed on the sick, the weak maybe, or those walking alone. Have you lost any of your gang down here? Vanished with no trace?"
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Aldred took several involuntary steps backwards as Janim fairly exploded into an enormous snake, filling the majority of the covered street and completely encircling Reiner. "Blessed Vania," he swore to himself. Then, using the opportunity, he raised his voice and commanded the fullness of his gifts. "Did I not tell you this was not a fight you wanted to start?" he said, voice filling the tunnels and bouncing off the walls. Water sloshed as everyone froze for a moment, staring at Janim and Reiner, who was wimpering pitifully. "GO!!" He pulled all his insistence into that word, all the conviction, fanning the flames of their fear, their uncertainty, their secret relief at the capture of their gang leader. "Come on!" came the voice of young Karl, who was already halfway down another street tunnel when the rest of the gang splashed into action, scrambling down side streets and alleys. The sounds of their fleeing footsteps grew softer and softer until only Reiner was left, eyes wide as dinner plates as he stared at the group. Aldred walked towards the gang leader. "Now," he said, weaving a new conviction into his words. "Why don't you tell us about the thing that's hunting people down here. Do not lie to me," he brought his face closer to Reiner's, trying not to betray his own anxiety over Janim's massive serpentine form. "I will know. You tell us what we want to know, we'll give you something in return. A deal, proper Kurian style, eh Reiner?" @Invocation @Vargo Seldon @Sorana @everyone
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Aldred hesitated, looking at the gang. Most of them were basically kids. What was keeping them down here? "Try not to kill anyone," he said to Janim. "Except maybe that one, do as you like there." He jerked his head at Reiner, who had just delivered a savage ultimatum at Amara. "I'll amp up the fear as best I can, hopefully they'll scatter."
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While Amara spoke to the gang, Aldred edged backwards slowly until he was standing near Janim. The shifter had been quiet all through their walk into the undercity. Aldred tried to talk without moving his lips as much as possible, timing his words with the others' conversation to avoid being overheard. "Can you get behind them?" he asked Janim. "Turn into a snake or something? Get an edge on them?" If Mutig let loose in here, there would be a lot of death, and not necessarily all on the part of the gang. There were a good number of them, and here in these close quarters Mutig's height and girth would be more curse than blessing. @Invocation
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Lita turned to catch a look at the woman who had called out to the man on stage, suppressing a laugh. She was one of the Ghostblood representatives, probably highly ranked by the way she carried herself. Her companion was amusing himself by rolling a ball of fire around his fingers like it was a coin. Showy, Lita thought, smirking. She noted the pair and turned back to the stage, waiting for the man to finish his rather dramatic pausing. She wasn't complaining, the lapse in time had allowed her to relay everything he'd said without trying to write and listen at the same time. Helpful, but now that she was done, things were getting a bit dull. Okame had settled into his seat, and who knew where his spren was. Probably floating around uselessly instead of inspecting the room. Laurelai was equally still, watching the stage with rapt attention. Lita was surprised that the speaker onstage couldn't feel the laser burn of her eyes on the side of his face. With the man on stage doing nothing, Lita watched the crowd, noting the reactions of the partygoers, trying to catch snippets of whispered speculation. She nibbled on a cracker and some cheese, which she'd finally managed to order shortly before the lights dimmed.
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Aldred heard the splashing a ways off, but had hoped it might only be one thief - maybe two. Instead there were upwards of eight, a nasty group with matted hair and wicked-looking knives. The damp had inched up their clothing, making it seem as though the youths were slowly dissolving into the murky waters at their feet. Aldred closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the sounds of magic to rush fully into his mind. None of the cutpurses before them had any kind of Natural augmentation, he he seriously doubted that there would be a Ritualist among them. Further down into the old city, the deep, thumping drone called to him, pulled at him. He opened his eyes, forcing the noise into the back of his mind again. There would be time for that later. He felt a swirling of emotion, an expectancy from the group. Aldred had calmed the men near Tradesman's Gate yesterday. Could it work now? "We don't want any trouble," Aldred said, raising his hands and speaking clearly, pulling a bit of magic into his voice. "If it's money you're after, we don't have much. We're tracking something that's been taking people." One of the gang, a boy barely into his teens, met his eyes for a moment before looking down again and gripping his knife with whitened knuckles. So they've heard of it too, Aldred thought. Good. Most of the gang had their eyes and knives trained on Mutig and Algorath. A bold move, attacking a massive bear and a wolf-man. Were they working for someone else, or just desperate? The latter seemed unlikely, judging by those sacks at their waists. They already had enough gold to buy food, alcohol, probably even a few nights in a flop house. So what was keeping them down here? "This isn't a fight you want to start," he said, weaving more magic into his voice this time. Fear, you are afraid. This bear could rip you to shreds, and you already have so much money. Why not seek easier targets elsewhere? The boy who had looked up at Aldred's mention of the missing people edged away from Mutig, calling to one of the older members. "Let's go, Reiner, it's a blighted bear." The leader, Reiner, smiled cruelly, not taking his eyes off Mutig. "Shut it, Karl," he said to the younger boy. "Bear ain't gonna do nothin', otherwise he'd a done it already. Ain't that right, bear?" He was big for his age, probably eighteen, with shoulders like a crossbeam and long, powerful arms. In the deepening gloom of the Fens, everyone's hair looked dark, but there was a silvery sheen to Reiner's matted curls that hinted at blonde.
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Aldred watched Amara stare at the ground, a look of deep overwhelm shadowing her sweet face. "Sounds like Innate magic to me," he said. "It's a bit different for each person, though based on all your equipment there, it has something to do with healing, I'm guessing?" Aldred gestured to Amara's pinnate full of herbs and supplies. "There might be someone at the Academy would could point you in a better direction than I could. Anyone can go learn the mysteries of Ritual magic, with enough coin and time, that is." He rubbed his fingers together like he was pinching a coin. "Even if they couldn't teach you, they might know of some place you could get trained up properly. That mage fellow might now, he's well over a hundred years old I think so I should guess he knows a thing or two." Aldred glanced back up the road where Mutig and the wolf had gone, resisting the urge to tap his finger against his thigh in agitation. If he listened hard enough, he could sense a low, deep thrum echoing up from the Fens. It's down there, he thought, trying his best to calm himself. Whatever it is, it's down there. There was only so much he could do to reason with a creature - if whatever it was could even be reasoned with. What kind of covenant would it accept or desire? If no one had even seen the thing, did it even have a form? He blew out a short, frustrated breath. @Sorana
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Aldred sighed, running a hand through his hair, which had started coming out of its leather tie. He tugged the little strip of leather out and braided his hair as he thought about how to answer Amara's question. "I am... I was a Sayer," he said finally. "I carried the blessing of Vania for years. Now, I'm... something else." He shrugged, pulling a grin back onto his face that he didn't really feel. These people expected him to do something, and part of him loved that. The belief, the confidence, the legend that was The Itinerant. But it was also a terrible strangeness, becoming the thing that he had been warned against for all his childhood. The story gone too far, the Natural made unnatural. This was how men became gods. Or monsters.
