On the Trail of Copper Bloodhounds… [16August06]

[Monty Tomasi]

On the Trail of Copper Bloodhounds… [16August06]

Part I:

“In your own words describe to us what happened to you last night.”

Sephus opened his eyes and slowly raised his head, his long blond hair parting to reveal bloodshot dark blue eyes. He let out a heavy sigh and stared past the men and women sitting at the scarred metal table in front of him. Several short, fat candles in simple and unadorned silver candle-holders sat evenly spaced at the edge of the table providing a small measure of flickering illumination to the room. Thin trailers of smoke rose from an incense burner in a darkened corner, filling the room with a wispy clove-scented haze.

Sephus reached up with his left hand to stroke the livid purple bruise on his cheek. As soon as his fingertips brushed the inflamed skin, he grimaced and carefully kept his gaze focused on the candle in the middle of the table. He sat perfectly still, staring for several long minutes seemingly oblivious to everything around him aside from the candle's dancing flame.

“I'll ask you one more time,” said a handsome man seated in the centre behind the table. “Please describe to us what happened to you last night.”

“I heard you the first time!” Sephus shouted leaping to his feet, the metallic clang of his chair falling over behind him echoed off the walls of the chamber. “How many times must I go over it? How many times will you make me relive that terrible ordeal? The memory is yet so fresh and raw that each time you ask me to put it in to words again... it is as if another barb has been thrust in to my still bleeding wound and opened it yet further.”

“One more time Sephus if you will,” the man stated slowly as he lent forward in to the candlelight. He had a handsome face; a sharp nose, broad chin and piercing emerald coloured eyes focused on Sephus's face. The man's dark hair was shot through with streaks of grey and his broad shoulders were a testament to many decades of hard physical labour. “We just need to hear it one final time Sephus,” the man said softly. “Then you can rest and we can fix what they did to you. OK?”

“Very well,” Sephus replied sighing heavily. “One last time… after that never again.”

Sephus turned to pick up his chair and collapsed on to it. He folded his arms tightly in front of him, lowered his head, letting his long blond hair obscure his face and sighed once again.

“Last night I'd completed a project that I've been working on for some time. It's a commission that I was asked to carry out that would test the limit of my skills and I was very pleased to have done so even faster than my most optimistic of predictions.”

“It almost felt as if the hammer was crafting itself. I'd sketched it out, prepared all the metals and gem-stones, the forge and my tools. I'd even spent time beforehand visualizing what it was going to look like once I'd finished it. The hammer was a masterpiece... is a masterpiece should I say It's most likely still sitting in my workshop at this very moment, but right now I could not care less.”

“After a long day at the forge, hours of concentration, blood, sweat and tears it was time to celebrate. So I rounded up some of the lads and we went to our favourite tavern. Alphos suggested that we make a bit of a trek through several of our usual haunts and everyone readily agreed. It's something that we do fairly often when one of us finishes an important piece of work as you're all aware. However, what with how everything is at the Foundry right now, that's become a rare thing these days.”

“In any case, as I was saying we were trekking from one tavern to the next. The bub was flowing, we stopped to get some tasty grub and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Alphos suggested that we settle down in the fourth tavern, Parai's Kiss it were called. Seeing as we was heading in the direction where Niels Petrs had got scragged a fortnight ago it seemed sound advice, but we were high in our cups and pressed ahead regardless.”

“Should have listened to Alphos, it's been a bitter lesson to learn and seeing how much I've been set back I'm wondering if it's worth trying to start all over again,” Sephus glanced up briefly to see if his audience was still listening and rested his gaze on the handsome man in the middle.

“Please, just tell us about the chamber of mirrors,” the man said. “We can discuss how this has shaped and re-forged you afterwards.”

“Very well,” Sephus responded. “I don't know how I ended up in the chamber of mirrors. One minute we were walking down the street singing songs, happy as can be and the next I'm strapped in to a metal and wooden chair surrounded by exceedingly tall black mirrors. I remember that the chair had lots of runes and glyphs carved in to it. Seen enough of them in the workshops here to know what they are, but I'm not gifted in knowing what they actually do. There was cables running to the mirrors surrounding the chair and as soon as I awoke I could feel the power coursing through the chair and in to my body.”

“They must have done a real number on me, because it felt like my cheek was on fire and my head was ringing. For a moment I thought I'd lost my sense of up and down and was going to fall off the chair, but the leather restraints held me fast.”

“Just then this woman wearing a long dark robe comes drifting in. Her hood was up so I couldn't see her face, but there was no mistaking it was a woman when she spoke. She could have charmed the birds out from the trees with that voice, I'd have done anything to please her and all she'd said to me at that point was 'Hello'.”

“I demanded to know where I was, why I'd been taken and what she was going to do with me. 'You're in no position to ask questions', she commanded and right then I lost any interest in asking any further questions. She walked behind the chair and I'm not sure what she did, but suddenly plain as day there's all these figures in the mirrors surrounding me and I swear that the moment I laid eyes on them I felt some kind of connection. Them images were real life-like, I'd swear that they were real people although the rippling silver behind them meant I could not focus on any particular part of them for too long.”

“The woman walked around from behind the chair and said: 'Everyone say hello to Sephus'. My name, like them people in the mirrors felt as if they were plucked out of me brain-box. It was easy to tell she was mocking me, however she'd put her spell on me and I couldn't ask any more questions. I snarled and told her that she'd pay for her crimes but we both knew it was an empty threat. From within her robe she took several shiny and well cut gems and then waved her other hand at the apparitions in the mirrors as if inviting them to come closer.”

“One by one they stepped out of the mirror and their ghostly forms drifted over to her. As soon as they got near they were drawn in to the gems and I felt myself growing weaker with each one of them disappearing. When the last man and woman disappeared I was physically sick. It felt as though there was a great emptiness inside of me as if she'd ripped out my inner self.”

“I passed out after that. When I woke up I was lying in the gutter covered in bruises, stale beer, rotting vegetables and worse. I could barely walk, not so much from lack of physical strength, more from the fact that it felt as if some fiend had scooped out my very being and left a shell of a man discarded by the side of the road. I told a passing patrol, but they just laughed at me and told me to go sober up.”

Sephus sighed and slowly raised his face, tears streaming down his cheeks and his shoulders twitched as he sobbed silently. The candles on the metal table sputtered as they burnt low.

“Thank you for repeating the tale once again Sephus,” the handsome man said as he struck a match and lit a fresh candle. “We understand that reliving this is very painful and you have the assurance of everyone in this room that we will do all in our power to restore you to what you once were.”

“What about the people in the mirrors?” Sephus's voice rose sharply, not bothering to hide his desperation. “Will I have to start all over again? Please, please tell me I'm not a blank slate?”

“No Sephus,” the man responded. “We'll put it right, on that you have my promise.”

 

[Monty Tomasi]

Part II:

Frendick was in seventh heaven. Sitting in a brightly-lit clean and nicely laid-out tavern, he had the barkeep running around at his beck and call. Two of the three barmaids were fawning over him, complimenting him on his great looks and mighty magical prowess. The bard in the corner was finally singing a tune that he liked and the idea of being able to do almost anything he wanted in the tavern was really growing in appeal.

Frendick wore a fine deep purple silk shirt, leather leggings and an ornately crafted rapier with a ruby-encrusted hilt at his side. He kept his dark hair short and had a small pointed goatee. Former lovers had complimented him on his well-toned lean and muscular frame and described his crooked smile as giving him a definite roguish charm. Frendick was never one to complain when complimented and often made the most of his luck whilst it lasted.

Herstanz, his boss, was sitting at the next table sorting through all the booty that they had recently acquired. Swords, wands, a finely crafted mail vest and numerous other magical trinkets were piled up awaiting inspection.

Herstanz was tall, broad-shouldered man with bleach blond hair that hung far down his back in a single braid. His short beard also had a single braid with a gold hoop woven in to it at the end. His milky red eyes together with his green plate mail, speckled with glittering flecks of red, gave him an intimidating presence that Herstanz often used to bolster his arguments. Whilst he did not have Frendick's natural good looks or Gyzz's charm, power over others was all he really cared about.

Gyzz lay undressed on a bed upstairs in the tavern with the prettiest of the barmaids at his side. His blond curly hair was plastered to his fore-head and his sky blue eyes lingered lustfully on the sleeping form of the woman by his side. Suddenly he felt a stab of pain in his left knee and cursed his aching bones for giving him so much grief. Although no longer a young man, he had managed to retain his good looks and together with his years of honing his magical skills, Gyzz rarely spent his nights alone.

Whispering a string of arcane syllables under his breath so as not to wake the sleeping beauty, he quietly renewed the enchantments on both her and the others in the tavern that had fallen under his spell. Gyzz had learnt at a young age to channel magical energy and although it had made him an outcast whilst still a tender youth, as he grew to be a man Gyzz made sure that his talents would always gain him friends where ever he went.

Marco sat at the table in a corner of the tavern common-room. He watched his boss Herstanz sifting through their recently acquired goods, smiled bemusedly as he watched Frendick flirt with the barmaids who could not resist his charms even if they'd wanted to. Marco scowled at the barkeeper who brought him a new flagon of ale and spilled some of it on the table. The sweaty barkeep mopped the ale up hurriedly and scurried off to take refuge behind the bar.

Marco, like his companions, had not always had an easy life and being able to relax in the relative safety of the tavern gave him a measure of peace. Idly he played with one of a dozen rings that he wore, twirling it around his carefully manicured fingers. Arcane energy crackled from one ring's gemstone to the next, but Marco paid it little heed. His long black robes with glyphs woven from gold thread hung loosely from his large frame and Marco wondered idly if the evening would bring any further amusement or whether it was time to retire to bed.

Just then the tavern door opened and two men and two women walked in. They were each dressed in red with the tall muscle-bound man in the front wearing a red metal breast plate with a downward pointing sword etched on to it. He wore a red cloak, trousers and thick boots.

On his broad belt hung an empty scabbard that was weatherworn and pitted with rust. The guard carried his red helmet under his arm and had a stub of a smouldering black-weed tar cigar sticking out of the corner of his mouth. The brute's head was shaven and after stepping in to the common-room of the tavern he ran a gauntleted hand over his smooth scalp as he surveyed the room.

Following closely behind him entered a stunningly beautiful woman with short coppery hair and deep sea green eyes. She too carried her helmet under her arm, wore long red boots, leather leggings and a corset that was laced up enough to hold it in place and still display the guard’s prominent cleavage. Her cloak was fastened with a silver brooch at the base of her graceful neck.

Behind her came a short man with spiky blond hair who wore a plain red cotton shirt, trousers and no footwear of any kind. He did not have a cloak on, nor did he carry any weapons.

Bringing up the rear was a woman slightly taller than the spiky haired man, wearing a long red dress and thick ankle-length coat. She carried a slender crossbow with numerous gears and springs bolted on to it that was cradled in her arms. Around her waist she had a belt with numerous small pouches and a bandoleer with half a dozen thin vials slung across her left shoulder.

The woman in the red dress had mousy brown hair that was tied back in a pony-tail and had strange pair of goggles rested just above her fore-head with a leather strap going around and below her pony-tail. Her inquisitive brown eyes darted around the room and she had a studied look of concentration as she took it all in.

“Well, well, well” said Herstanz as he looked up from his loot to the new arrivals. “The city guard arrives at last and at least one of you had enough fore-sight to bring weapons. I must say that this is bitterly disappointing. Oh well, guess we’ll have to dispatch you quickly like the last lot.”

“You're under arrest,” the muscle-bound guard said in a rough gravely voice. “You can either come with us the easy way or the hard way.”

“That's it?” Herstanz laughed dryly. “All you have to say is that I am under arrest? No proclamation of my crimes, no man-catcher with which to prevent my escape. Even no manacles it appears, really you are a pretty poor excuse for a city guard.”

The tall blond warrior with the braided hair rose up from the table and picked up a spiked mace. Gyzz immediately jumped up and drew his razor-sharp rapier. The barmaids and the innkeeper fled to the kitchen and the bard in the corner stopped playing mid-song. Marco cracked his knuckles, smoothed his black robe and rose to his full height to stand next to Herstanz.

“Kill this lot and get ready to move on,” Herstanz commanded. “The red guards are like locusts, you kill three and another dozen come running. I have the key to our next destination, let’s be done with this place and perhaps when we return to this city it will provide more entertainment.”

“Suit yourself,” the large guard grunted. “We’ll do it the hard way.”

 

[Monty Tomasi]

Part III:

Herstanz charged forward, overturning several tables as he built up momentum barrelling forward towards the front door. Plates, mugs and cutlery scattered across the room and several chairs splintered as the armoured warrior swung his spiked mace to clear a path.

Frendick leapt on to a bar-stool, stepped on to the bar and jumped towards the wagon wheel suspended from the ceiling that had once been used as a chandelier. The aging ropes supporting the wheel creaked ominously, but Frendick ignored it and swung his legs forwards as he prepared to launch himself at the guards crowding the entranceway.

Marco sprinted forwards, weaving in between the chairs and flying bits of furniture with remarkable agility for a man his build. He slammed his fists together and immediately the rings on his hands burst forth bands of multicoloured lights that contracted and formed knuckledusters of scintillating energy.

The burly guard at the front began to move forwards to intercept Herstanz. “Number three sword”, the red-armoured guard said and quickly drew the sword that materialized in the ancient scabbard. He brought up the wide-bladed sword with its leaf-shaped tip just in time to parry a two-handed swing from Herstanz spiked mace. Herstanz’s charge carried him forwards and he drove his shoulder in to the guard knocking him back against the tavern wall.

Herstanz continued his assault on the burly guard raining one blow down after the other. Each time the guard brought up his wide-bladed sword just in time parry, but as the milky-eyed berserker attacks increased in speed and ferocity one of the strikes got past the guard’s defences and the barbed mace slammed in to the guards shoulder. Several of the spikes punctured the guard’s armour and blood began to flow freely.

A couple of the nails holding the ropes connected to the chandelier tore lose from the ceiling just as Frendick let go on an upwards swing. He somersaulted through the air and landed right in front of the copper haired guard. His leering smile at her revealing corset turned instantly to a mask of utter pain as he looked down and saw that he’d landed on top of her upraised knee. A whimper escaped his lips as he slid down her leg and on to the floor. Frendick’s beautiful rapier slipped from his fingers and he curled up in to a foetal position.

The copper haired guard dropped to her knees on top of Frendick who moaned in pain as his already bruised body was forced to endure further torment. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him towards her. Tears streamed down Frendick’s face and when he saw the guards beautiful eyes shift from green to the colour of molten gold he opened his mouth to scream. Before he got chance she pressed down her lips on to his and kissed him.

Marco was last to arrive, slowing his charge sufficiently to let Herstanz arrive before him. The black-robed mystic picked his moment just right after his leader had sent the burly guard flying and caught the spiky haired guard off-guard with a quick succession of short sharp jabs. Marco finished his manoeuvre with a back-hand against the cross-bow wielding guard who let go of her weapon and fell to the tavern floor.

“That’s cheating,” the spiky haired guard taunted as he dodged the next couple of punches Marco threw his way. He retaliated with a kick to Marco’s knee and the mystic responded by taking the spiky haired guard in to a bear hug. As Marco locked his hands behind the guards back the energy from his rings combined and he could hear the hissing sound of the guards back being seared from the intense energy and heat.

Suddenly Marco’s head felt as if a flaming ball of fire had exploded inside his skull and he tasted the blood streaming down from his broken nose. Too late he realised that the spiky haired guard had slipped from his grasp. He felt rather than heard the guard kick his weakened knee in quick succession and time slowed as Marco watched himself in the mirror above the bar toppling over sideways towards one of the nearby tables. There was a brief moment of blinding light and then Marco’s world went dark.

“Valori”, the burly guard shouted angrily. His wounded right arm hung limp at his side and he was using his left hand to parry the attacks from the towering berserker. Herstanz stepped in to a pool of spilled ale that caused him to lose his balance momentarily, but the guard was too busy fighting for his life to launch a counter-attack. Instead the two combatants circled each other between several broken tables, trading blows as they tested each others defences but neither pressing the attack. Herstanz felt the red haze lifting from his vision and when he saw two of his companions downed his mind began to rapidly formulate an escape plan.

The mouse-colour haired guard had meanwhile picked herself off the floor; retrieved her crossbow and she was busy trying to insert in to the barrel of her weapon a small metallic cylindrical device with glyphs etched on to the outside. Cursing softly she fumbled and the stubby cylinder popped out of its slot, but she caught it before it fell on to the floor. Ignoring the melee taking place around her she gently inserted it a second time and smiled in relief as the gear and cogs in the crossbow sprung to life with a high-pitched humming sound.

Just then the door at the top of the stair burst open and Gyzz stepped on to the landing. He scowled angrily as he surveyed the battle taking place below him and raised his hands to channel the energy that would bend each one of the pesky guards to his will. The words came easily to him, mental constructs of complex magical force flashing through his mind as he wove the arcane powers of his birthright and shaped them with his will.

The mouse-haired guard raised the crossbow to her shoulder, glanced around for a free target and with delicate care pressed down on the trigger. The crossbow four-pronged arms hummed with energy, thin strands of gossamer thread coalesced around them and within the blink of an eye the crossbow shot forth a bolt that expanded in to a web of sticky threads that sailed across the room and pinned Gyzz to the wall at the top of the stairs. The enchanter’s spell-weaving was cut-off mid-sentence, leaving him bound and gagged up against the wall.

“VALORI”, the burly guard shouted a second time. He was struck full-on in the chest, lifted off his feet and flew backwards in to the remains of a broken table. Herstanz raised his mace for the killing blow, but he too was slammed against the wall with thick, ropey and sticky strands holding him in place. The mouse-haired guard lowered her crossbow and ran over to the fallen guard’s side.

“Sergeant, are you ok?” she asked as she tried to staunch the bleeding.

“Help me to my feet,” the guard commanded her and he struggled painfully to his feet with her help. The spiky haired guard was busy checking on Marco and he nodded in the burly guard’s direction to indicate that the mystic was still breathing.

The Sergeant sheathed his wide-bladed sword, that promptly vanished, and with the help of the other guard made his way over to where his copper-haired colleague was still passionately kissing Frendick.

“Stand down, Fey.” The guard commanded. “STAND DOWN!” he repeated grabbing hold of her coppery hair and forcibly pulling her back to break the kiss. The golden colour melted from her eyes to be replaced by a deep sea green colour. The look of sheer bliss faded away from the guard’s beautiful face to be replaced with a stony mask.

“Bitterness,” Frendick whimpered quietly, curled up in a ball. “…Golden shadows… How could I not have known? Such loss … Such a bitter loss…”

“Let’s get these berks restrained and we’ll use the wagon outside to take them back to the barracks,” ordered the Sergeant. The guard closed his eyes for awhile as if to go to sleep, flexed his shoulder and experimentally lifted his right arm. With a smile he struck a match and re-lit the stubby end of his black-weed tar cigar.

The mouse-haired guard worked alongside her male colleague to extract their captives from the webbing. They secured Gyzz’s and Herstanz’s hands with a thin red strand and marched them outside and secured them to the wagon. The copper haired guard went upstairs and returned with several sacks that jingled with the sound of coins and other metallic trinkets.

After the others had carried Marco outside on to the cart the burly guard walked over to where Frendick lay and puffed on his cigar.

“Loss and bitterness…” the wounded man whimpered with his eyes scrunched tightly shut. “Golden shadows…”

“You’ll thank me for this,” the burly guard said as he pulled Frendick up in to a sitting position. He punched him hard in the jaw and proceeded to lift the unconscious man over his shoulder and marched outside.

Some time later the innkeeper and the barmaids crept out of the kitchen in to the common room. The innkeeper’s jaw dropped when he saw the devastation left behind and it was only awhile later that he realised that the barmaids had run out of the tavern never to return.

“I’ve been caged in this city long enough,” the innkeeper remarked to himself. “Back home all I had to worry about was Bacchae… but this… well this is too much.”

 

[Monty Tomasi]

Part IV:

The erinye flexed her wings, stretching them upwards and outwards as she arched her back. The heavy dark woollen robe that she wore during the extraction ritual restricted her movements and she savoured the moment of freedom when the woollen robe was replaced by a lighter garment. The erinye’s usual attire consisted of a simple white dress that covered her from shoulder to wrist and all the way down to her ankles.

“Hello,” she said softly to the man standing on the other side of the colourfully painted folding screen depicting scenes of hellish battle in a field of gigantic nettles. The lamp behind her cast the erinye’s shadow on to the screen revealing only her outline.

Knowing that this simple word of greeting would capture the man’s full attention, she immediately changed tact and her soft, seductive voice became harsh and grating.

“You disappoint me,” the erinye stated, her venomous tone cutting in to heart and mind of the man on the other side of the screen far deeper than any sword could penetrate. “Whilst your performance was very entertaining to watch and I am sure convinced a number of the high-ups there. Someone has seen fit to call in the city guards and this may introduce additional complications in to our project; which until now has been running very smoothly. Do you now understand why I am disappointed?”

“Please my lady,” the man blubbered and stumbled over his words desperately trying to make up for his failure. “I… it was completely unforeseen that they would call in the guards. I mean… the Believers and Hardheads have never been close… I… I will deal with this immediately.”

“Oh really?” the erinye enquired. “Well considering your work to date, there is a slim chance that you might actually be capable of handling this if it was the only bit of bad news. However, the Harmonium has deployed a bloodhound squad.”

“What?” the man exclaimed before he realised that he had spoken aloud. “I humbly beg your pardon my lady for my outburst. I will find out who is in the squad by tonight and you will have their heads on a platter by tomorrow morning.”

“Silence!” the erinye’s anger cascaded off her in waves at the insolence and incompetence of the mortal kneeling on the other side of the screen.

“Not only have you failed to prevent other Factions from becoming involved, but you make promises in complete ignorance and that you have no guarantee whether you can deliver on them or not. They’ve already arrested Herstanz and his band of merry fools and so you will need to recruit another group of mercenaries to carry out the harvesting of potentials.”

“This bloodhound squad is unusual, not only because there four instead of the usual three. But when the Harmonium acts in manner that deviates from its normal regulations, it pays to find out more. Fortunately for you, worm, there are others who have retained my favour and have at least some measure of competence.”

“Now listen carefully, since depending on how you deal with this situation you will either return to my favour… or your will be endure torment for eternity in a place where even the likes of me are hesitant to tread”

The man paled and began to tremble uncontrollably. On the other side of the screen the erinye sneered and picked up a scroll with symbols covered with infernal symbols.

“The bloodhound squad is led by Notary Five Perrin uth Mastrantonio. He is more than he appears and his records are too good to be believed. Before joining the Harmonium his records state that he comes from a world called Krynn where he served as a soldier in a war involving dragons.”

“The other members of the squad have all gone through the Harmonium training camps on Arcadia. They each have the rank of Notary three and the squad is sponsored by a Harmonium officer called Narcovi. Are you following all of this so far?”

“Yes my lady,” the man said hurriedly, still trembling with fear as well as relief that the chances of him leaving the chamber alive were on the increase. His mistress did not waste words on those she intended to destroy.

“Very well,” the erinye smiled wickedly. “Corporal Ella-Morro-Moo Thorn-Willow-Hook was born in this city and was a former tout, possibly even a harlot, who has gone through the training camps three times. She has tainted ancestry that my informant tells me, I am disappointed to report, is not infernal in nature.”

“Corporal Oho is originally from a world called Oerth, in particular the Kingdom of Shar. He has received extensive training in unarmed combat and is considered to be a threat at all times unless magically restrained or is confirmed as being dead.”

“Finally there is Corporal Valori Vasco, I don’t have the name of her world. Although her records indicate that she is a gifted alchemist, some digging in to her past has brought to light that on her world she would be called an arcane mechanic and worshipper of some kind of clockwork goddess.”

“I’m not going to ask you if you have remembered all that information as we both know what the outcome will be if you fail me a second time.” The erinye reached down to lift up the lamp and her shadow grew to cover the entirety of the paper-screen separating her from the cowering man. She retreated deeper in to the chamber to caress the glimmering well-cut gems that rested on a silk cushions.

“Mmmm,” the erinye purred having placed one of the gems delicately on her tongue. She swallowed the gem and lay down to savour the stolen memories washing over her. The descent in to an exquisite reverie of roaming through the memories and emotions of another’s past life was disturbed by a whimper from behind the screen.

Opening her eyes briefly the erinye finally dismissed her servant with a simple command. “Report back to me when they are dealt with. You are dismissed, Sephus.”

 

[Monty Tomasi]

Part V:

Several hours later three Harmonium officers marched through the smog-filled, noisy and filthy streets of the Lower ward. Blacksmiths workshops, tanners and carpenters lined the narrow lanes that were crowded with apprentices running errands, shoppers and numerous passers-by going about their business.

A pale looking elf with silver hair and sapphire-studded earrings stood hunched over at the corner of a junction holding her chest as she gasped for breath in the sulphur-scented air. The smith working at the forge nearby glanced up briefly at the elf before shrugging and returning to his labour. Both the smith and his apprentices had a yellow caste to their skin from years of working in the ash-laden air.

Across on the other side of the junction several children stood huddled in a group whispering snide remarks to each other about the people walking past. Each of the children held a long pole with a magical light source on the top of it. Most held white globes of light, but one of the boys with small curved horns on his forehead and a thin line of green scales on the ridge of his nose held a staff that had a blue glowing lantern on the end. The light-boys were out too early to get any customers for being guided around the ward and instead they amused themselves with placing bets on how long the elf opposite them would last before she collapsed.

A cart rumbled in which a number of cadavers were piled haphazardly. The cart was pulled by an emaciated horse whose ribs protruded along its flanks and had a frayed tail that was little more than a greasy clump of hair. The horse’s head was lowered and it walked with such a slow gait that many of those following behind the cart cursed loudly for the driver to move aside to let them pass. Riding on the front of the cart sat a couple of Collectors dressed in black rags. The man guiding the horse stared at the elf to measure how long the elf had left to live and shook his head at his companion to indicate that they should come back at a later time in the evening.

The light-boys jeered as the deaders cart rumbled by but they fell silent when they saw the vacant eye sockets of the other Collector staring in their direction. Suddenly one of the doorways in the foundry flared with bright light and two dwarves came tumbling through. The doorframe continued to crackle with energy briefly as the smith cursed loudly for having to suffer yet another interruption to his work. The dwarves rose to their feet and began to jabber in a language that the smith did not understand. The smith responded by picking up the dwarves by their collars and throwing them in to the grimy, dirt-streaked and muddy road.

“Why can’t you just tell me where you want to go and I can lead us there?” Ella asked as they turned the corner in to the junction.

“Because you would not approve,” Oho replied without looking in her direction. He crossed the junction towards where the light-boys had gathered and beckoned forward a slip of a girl clutching a small pole with a small golden glowing orb on the end. The boy with the small horns snarled and pushed her back, positioning himself between the Harmonium officer and the girl.

“If you’re looking for a blood to…” the boy’s sentence was cut off mid-way through when the Harmonium officer casually back-handed him and sent the boy flying in to a nearby puddle.

“If I want to deal with tiefer scum, you’ll be the first to hear of it,” Oho remarked. He beckoned the girl over again and she hurriedly moved forward. The blonde haired Harmonium officer with spiky hair lowered himself slowly to so that his face was inches away from hers. He whispered in to her ear and the girl took an abrupt step back. She pointed down a narrow road and the Harmonium officer smiled in response.

“Oho, you were little bit harsh on that light-boy,” Ella stated after she had managed to navigate around the dwarves that were jabbering at her in a guttural language. She held her hands up to indicate that she did not understand what they were asking her and in the she simply turned her back on them. “Got something against tiefling?”

“Yes.”

“Anything you feel like sharing?”

“Let’s just say that I have a thing against anything that’s not human,” Oho said staring at Ella. “Where I come from anything not human is considered sub-human, a talking animal at best.”

“Well, I’m glad that I’ve never visited the place where you come from.”

“At least that is something that we can both agree upon.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Ella asked as she ran a hand through her coppery hair. It was plastered to her forehead from wearing a helmet and Ella shook her head to loosen her hair.

“Where is Valori?” Oho asked.

“There,” Ella pointed across the junction where the third Harmonium officer was busy standing over the fallen elf. Valori was busy crushing some small red leaves that she’d taken from one of her many pouches and held it under the nose of the elf.

“Doesn’t she know that we don’t have to bother with pleasantries like that?” Oho asked.

“She’s ignorant of quite a few things about what a Harmonium officer is expected to do and what not to do,” Ella commented.

“Care to explain that statement?”

“Only if you want to tell me why you’re happy I’ve never been to your world.”

Oho marched across the junction and pulled Valori away from the fallen elf. He marched her back to where Ella stood waiting for them and then continued on down the road that the girl with the magical lantern had pointed at.

The narrow alleyway was littered with broken crates and refuse piled on top. A ring of metal spikes had rusted in to a solid lump, a water barrel with numerous holes splayed open like a rotten flower with the top hoop bent out of shape and several rats scampered over a pile of rags that gave out a small groan of protest.

“I think you know already what my answer is going to be,” Oho said as he navigated his way through the alley in towards the next street. “You seem to know a lot about Valori, me and the Sergeant. Care to share how you are so well informed?”

“Quite simple,” Ella responded with a wide smile. “I’ve read the files.”

“You read the files?” Valori piped up. “Does that mean that you know the details of this case? I mean, for a start I have no idea why we arrested those men in that tavern and then there are the gems that I saw Oho put in to his pocket…”

“Vital evidence,” Oho stated after he had coughed loudly. “I am taking them to be examined by an expert.”

“Sarge believes that the Godsmen are being abducted and having their previous lives stolen,” Ella explained.

“The Godsmen are the ones who work the forges, right?” Valori asked.

“How comes you don’t know what the philosophy of the Believers of the Source is?” Oho asked.

“Because she didn’t do basic training or the course on Sigil municipal law,” Ella smirked.

“I take it that was in her file as well?”

“Indeed. The files also mention that you were once a member of the Scarlet Brotherhood Oho, care to enlighten us as to exactly what their philosophy is all about?”

“Are you telling me that Valori has reached the rank of Notary three without having done the basics?” Oho’s voice rose.

“Oh yes,” Ella replied. “The files are full of interesting titbits.”

“Hello!” Valori said loudly. “I’m walking right behind you.”

“Yes, you are. Can you tell me how you managed to avoid any of the standard Harmonium training that the rest of us have received?”

“You don’t have to answer that Valori,” Ella interjected. “It was Sarge’s decision to include you in the squad. If Oho wants to know then he can ask Sarge directly.”

“I suppose that you asked him why a former member of the Scarlet Brotherhood has been accepted in to the Harmonium?”

“Oh no,” Ella smiled. “I know better than to question the decisions that Sarge makes.”

Having crossed several busy streets and walked through a number of alleys the trio of Harmonium officers exited in to a street that was lined with a number of shops on each side ranging from cloth-sellers to curio shops. Oho strode towards one of the shops that had a packed window display with all manner of small items placed with meticulous detail in order to catch the attention of any passer-by. Above the shop a sign hung with the words: “The Friendly Fiend.”

“You have got to be joking!” Ella exclaimed loudly. “This is your grand plan, Oho? To take ‘vital evidence’ to an Arcanoloth and have him look over it so as to give us a clue about how to crack this case? You’re barmy to the Spire!”

“Hush,” Oho retorted. “A’kin is not your usual Arcanoloth. He’s been very friendly when ever I have been in his shop. Only last week he mentioned having a passing interest in curious gem-stones and I believe that he can help us.”

“What’s an Arcanoloth?” Valori asked. She’d folded her arms across her chest drawing her large red coat closer to her slender frame.

“One of the most evil creatures you could ever hope to encounter,” Ella spat. “They’re high-ups of the Yugoloth race. You clueless refer to them as Demodands, The Lady only knows why. They reside on the Lower planes acting as mercenaries in the Blood War. Chant has it that they pull the strings behind the Baatezu and Tanar’ri playing off one against the other. The Yugoloths would have you believe that they are the puppet-masters behind every conspiracy in the Multiverse. Although they’d deny it flat out if you asked them straight up. The Yugoloths are probably the best liars in the Multiverse.”

“I don’t disagree with any of that,” Oho said as he put his hand on the door-handle to the shop. “But I still believe that A’kin is different.”

Suddenly the door swung open and a figure wearing a long finely embroidered blue robe and with a smiling jackal’s head stepped in to view. The fur around his long muzzle was mostly light in colour and he had twin dark circles that joined together around his eyes, giving the jackal-headed figure the appearance of wearing a mask. In his pawed hand he held a tall, thin silver teapot from which lemon-scented steam curled upwards in to the smog-filled sky.

“Please come in,” A’kin beckoned with a wide grin that displayed his fangs. “I’ve just made myself a pot of tea and what better way enjoy it than by sharing it with three-fold officers of the Law?”

 

[Monty Tomasi]

Part VI:


“Don’t go in there,” Ella warned quietly.

The Arcanoloth gasped in shocked outrage, his paw in front of his muzzle and his deep dark eyes narrowing. “Oh sweet Heavens, my dear Ella, I’m shocked that you should say such a thing. After all you are a native to our fair Cage and as everyone knows I am simply a humble shop-keeper trying to make ends meet. You would not believe some of the rumours that go around about even simple shop-keepers in a street like this.”

“I would be delighted to join you for some tea,” Oho announced as he stepped across the threshold and in to the Friendly Fiend.

Valori lowered her goggles carefully over her eyes and wound the tiny spring mechanism on the side. Between the two lenses blue and green coloured alchemical fluids began to swirl and the mouse-haired Harmonium officer adjusted the back of the strap underneath her pony-tail to get a good look at the Arcanoloth.

“Oh wait just a moment, my dear,” A’kin said with a wide grin, smoothing down his robe. “Allow me to present my better profile,” he said as he turned to face side-ways in the doorway and struck a pose.

Valori stared through her goggles for some time at the Arcanoloth, her vision filtered by an ever-shifting aquamarine haze. Ella coughed and shifted around to glance up and down the street. She sighed and after looking at Valori and A’kin in turn, she lent with her back against the glass-front of the Friendly Fiend shop crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“If you don’t mind,” A’kin said after holding his pose for a minute. “I have a couple of customers in the shop that really could do with my attention, your friend Oho amongst them. If you feel reluctant to come inside and have a look around, you could always just browse the small sampling of my wares in the window.” The Arcanoloth disappeared in to the shop and the door closed without a sound.

“I’m not sure what to make of him,” Valori admitted after moving her goggles back in to their original position where they rested just above her fore-head.

“Most times I’d tell you to make up your own mind about things,” Valori replied. “But in this instance you can trust me when I tell you that dealing with a fiend of any description is very bad news.”

“Hmm,” Valori pursed her lips, took out a stack of small triangular parchment sheets tied together with a piece of red string and began to scribble on it a long sequence of numbers and symbols.

Having completely filled three of the pages with numbers, Valori took an abrupt step back from the shop and pointed at it with a trembling finger.

“That’s impossible!”

“What is?” Ella said as she spun around and peered through the window in to the dark shop. She pulled a pair of thin daggers, little more than stilettos that were hidden in the lining of her cloak, as she readied herself for an attack.

“That should not be here,” Valori muttered, stepping closer to the glass. “I’ve calculated the odds of finding such things here, taking in to account even quite a few educated guesses. But it simply does not add up, the odds are by far too slim.”

“Hold on a second,” Ella said as she lowered her daggers. “What in the Nine Hells are you talking about girl?”

“Those are Rhulic-forged quenched serricsteel pistols.” Valori had her hands and nose pressed against the glass as she peered at two beautiful silvery pistols with ornate runic carvings that stood on a specially made wooden stand in the window close to the doorway. “I even know the name of the artisan who made them. They were on display when I was little and seeing their beauty first got me interested in alchemy and building mechanika.”

“Oh for the love of Tomeri,” Ella swore. She grabbed her companion by the shoulder and forcibly spun her around. Ella took Valori by the chin and forced the other Harmonium officer to look in to her eyes.

“I don’t know anything about alchemy or that other stuff. But what I do know is that A’kin sells things that people need, not want. Do you understand the difference?”

“The odds are just too remote for this to be reasonably possible…” Valori’s eyes were unfocused as she mentally tallied tables of numbers.

“Snap out of it, Officer Vasco” Ella commanded.

“Yes Sir,” Valori saluted. Ella and Valori stared at each other for a brief instance and promptly burst out laughing. “I’m sorry Ella, it’s become an automatic response since Sarge first recruited me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ella said with a big grin. “I’ve been through three Harmonium training camps and that was a mighty fine salute.”

“Really? I’ve been practicing…”

“Trust me when I say that I know a good salute when I see one.”

The two women laughed some more and then they both turned towards the shop.

“Did you hear something?”

“What?”

“I thought that I could hear something going on inside the shop. Sounded like something falling over.”

“Oh, sorry I didn’t.”

“You called those things pistols, what are they?”

“Well, a pistol is a… well it’s a pistol. It’s a projectile weapon commonly used in my world. It fires bullets that travel at a very high velocity; they can do a lot of damage in the right hands. I can draw some charts if you like to illustrate how…”

“That’s ok. Knowing that it is a weapon is enough for me. They are incredibly beautiful though.”

“You think so? I’ve dreamt about this pair of pistols since I was a little girl.”

“I can see why.”

“How much do you think that he is charging for them?”

“Valori, please tell me that you are not thinking about buying them?”

“Oh, what! Of course not, I was just wondering how much he would charge for them.”

“Good. ‘Cause I want to buy them.”

Valori looked at Ella in surprise but before she could say anything, the door of the Friendly Fiend burst open and an old man flew through in to the street. He wore a long merchant’s jacket, pantaloons and green leathery ankle length boots. In each hand he had a silk bag that jangled with the sound of gem-stones rubbing against each other.

“Stop! Thief!” A’kin cried as he raced for the doorway.

The old man took one look back at the shop and then at the two Harmonium officers caught flat-footed by the shop window. He held the corners of his jacket and began to run down the road. His coat-tails fluttered in the wind, as if they were stubby wings flapping behind him.

“Arrest that thief!” A’kin said as he took Ell a by the elbow. She felt something cold, hard and firm pressed in to her hand. “Quick Corporal Thorn-Willow-Hook, do something before he gets away!”

Ella began to sprint after the old man without a moment’s hesitation, her city guard’s instinct kicked in and she immediately began to chase after the fleeing figure.

Valori quickly tugged forward her slender crossbow that was on a strap beneath her long coat and pressed a switch to unfold the four arms. Patting her pockets she tried to find the small metal cylinder to put in to the stock of the device with which to charge up her web-flinging crossbow. Cursing herself under her breath she failed to find the small accumulator and instead she took off one of the small thin vials from her bandolier and began to carefully extract the woollen packet stuffed inside.

As Ella began to gain on the old man she noticed that he appeared no longer to be running along the ground. His flapping coat-tails had extended and grew rapidly outwards in to a pair of magnificent white feathered wings. With a grunt of exertion the old man lifted upwards and began a rapid ascent.

“Sod it!” Ella shouted. “Halt in the name of the Harmonium!”

The red-armoured, coppery haired guard skidded to a halt and reached for one of her concealed throwing knives. Realising that she was still holding something, Ella began to fling that instead but then she noticed out of the corner of her eye that it was one of the Rhulic-forged quenched serricsteel pistols.

Just before she let go of the weapon, as her arm came forward from her aborted throw, she held her arm steady pointing at the fleeing figure and her angry face suddenly became calm and focused. Not understanding how or what exactly she was doing Ella pointed the strange device at the rising thief and gently pressed her finger. Tugging almost imperceptibly as if on a friend’s hand, rather than squeezing down hard – the weapon sudden roared with a deafening blast that shook Ella all the way up her shoulder and down her spine.

A small dark sphere of pure pitch blackness shot upwards faster than the eye could follow and the retreating figure shrieked in pain. The feminine cry of pain abruptly heralded the halting the ascent and subsequent rapid descent. What had previously been the figure of an old man in merchants garb taking flight was transformed in to that of a stunningly beautiful woman with white feathery wings falling out of the sky. She fell through the wooden roof of one of the shops and disappeared from sight.

“Here,” A’kin said as he pressed the other pistol in to Valori’s hand. She stared at him incredulously but he dismissed her curt shake of the head. “Take this my dear, your friend Ella will need it. She seems to have a gift for using it. Now go! Catch that thief!”

“But Oho…”

“…will be just fine,” A’kin stated firmly. “I’ll take care of him. Now go!”

Valori shouldered her crossbow and held the gun out in front of her as she ran to catch up with her companion. Sprinting up the street she tried to check that the gun was primed and loaded and it was then that it struck her that the gun did not contain a bullet or any blasting powder.

Several moments later the front door of the shop exploded outwards and the erinye strode out in to the street. The ruined top of one of her wings oozed with dark, black blood that matted the flight feathers together. The gem bags were tucked in to her belt and she had discarded her long coat. The merchant’s outfit did not suit her new form, but there were few around to jest at her comical appearance. As soon as the pistol had fired and the erinye fallen through in to one of the shops, the street had cleared within a very short period of time.

A drizzle of dirty rain began to fall, slowly turning the dirty road in to a muddy track. Two fat grey and green pigeons waddled out of the way of the angry fiend marching out in to the street to confront the two Harmonium officers. The erinye seethed with anger and as the rain spattered down it hissed and sizzled on her skin, forming a thin layer of mist that danced and curled around her.

Valori covered the distance between her and Ella within a short span of time. The other officer was still holding the smocking pistol in her outstretched hand pointed at the advancing erinye. Ella reached behind her with her other hand to steer Valori so that she stood behind her and her foe, out of harms way. Her hand came in to contact with the other serricsteel pistol and instinctively she took hold of it.

“Ella…” Valori began as she was about to explain the lack of bullet. But she stopped herself as the thought entered her mind that the first pistol might also have been not loaded. “Gun-mage?”

Ella ignored her companion’s question and nudged Valori to begin retreating back down the street.

“That is going to cost you,” the erinye’s eyes flashed red and she quickly pulled out three small bones from a pouch that she snapped one after the other. “I’m going to enjoy watching my minions…”

Ella fired both pistols at the same time less than a couple of dozen feet from her enemy. She felt a surge of energy running from deep within her, as a well-spring of darkness opened up deep within her and a flood of raw energy channelled in to the pistols. The first discharge went wide and disintegrated the remainder of the shop’s doorframe in a thunderous shower of splinters. The other hit the erinye in the chest and knocked her back in to the shop.

“Um, Ella,” Valori whispered frantically. “She’s called in reinforcements.”

Three bearded figures materialised around them, each with a saw-toothed glaive that they held at the ready. The three dark skinned muscle-bound creatures towered over the two Harmonium officers. One of them smiled wickedly displaying its pointed teeth with an exhalation of fetid breath that stank of death and torment. The other two followed suit and a wave of fear struck both Harmonium officers causing them to take a step back in to each other.

 

[Monty Tomasi]

Part VII:


Valori felt her knees weaken as bile rose in her throat and she began to retch. Faced with the overpowering presence of the three Baatezu she tried desperately to gulp in big lungfuls of air. Fumbling with one of the pouches tied on the back of her belt she drew out some red leaves and tried to crush them under her nose whilst inhaling. Most of the leaves scattered in the rain and were swept away, but the Harmonium guard managed to get a small pinch under her nose, sufficient to bring her breathing under control.

Ella too felt light-headed but not due to the presence of the Baatezu. She swayed from side to side and the smocking guns that she had held pointing at the shop front moments earlier fell to her sides like leaden weights.

Droplets of golden colour began to form around the pupils of her eyes, twin teardrops of a deva suspended from black orbs. Ella stared down open-mouthed at her pistols, silently mouthing a scream. Waves of blackness roiled and cascaded through her body, wracking her with an exquisite cocktail of pleasure and pain.

One of the bearded figures stepped close to the Ella, thrusting a warm skin of fluid against her abdomen.

“Scream girlie,” the monster whispered as he stabbed her through the fluid-filled bladder with a curved, serrated dagger.

Ella felt a searing heat enter her abdomen and then a wetness that spread outwards leaving her feeling numbingly cold. The bladder’s contents splashed all the way up to her chin and soaked her down to her boots in an instant with the warm blood. Clutching her stomach, Ella felt with her fingers the wound where the dagger had penetrated beyond the bladder.

“Aaaayyyeeeee!”

The copper-haired Harmonium officer collapsed, forming a pool of blood in the muddy street.

“Ella, NO!”

The mouse-haired harmonium officer went to reach for her companion, but she was jerked back by her pony-tail and felt one of the other bearded monsters holding her close with one hand applying pressure on her pony-tail and the other hand with a dagger poised against her neck.

“Halt,” the erinye’s hoarse voice called out from beyond the shop’s doorway.

The woman staggered in to view, hanging on to the remnants of the doorframe for support. One of her wings hung useless at her side, bent at an odd angle. The other wing though scraped and battered remained in place. Cradling one of her arms protectively with the other; dark, thick black blood seeped slowly from a gaping, torn wound on her injured shoulder.

“Leave that one alive,” she commanded nodding towards Valori. “We’ll take her with us.”

Ella groaned, curled up in a foetal position in a crimson pond. Her trembling fingers gripped a copper ring on her ring-finger and she tried with her failing strength to tug the ring off. With a grunt the ring came free, but it slipped out her grasp and flew up in to the air in the direction of the shop.

“The other one…,” the erinye stated staring at one of the bearded devils accusingly. “Well… since you seem intent on acting on impulse rather than reason – I will leave it up to you to dispose of her in a suitable fashion.”

She bent down slowly, picked up Ella’s ring and slipped it on to her finger. Holding her hand out, the erinye admired the small carved runes on the ring and smiled.

The bearded devil with the dripping blade snarled as he threw Ella over his shoulder, eliciting yet another groan of pain from the officer.

“It’s a shame that you will not see your beloved Sergeant Perrin dying at my feet,” the beautiful, terrifying and bleeding enrinye cackled. “But at least you will die knowing that he found me using your ring. I grow stronger already from such delicious betrayal.”

The last thing that Ella saw as she was borne away on the shoulder of the Barbazu was her friend, Valori, being forced in to a covered sedan chair and carried off.



“Ouch,” Oho said as he opened his eyes and blinked rapidly several times.

His vision swam briefly before it settled on the face of a man dressed in red glaring at him with a mixture of hatred and anger. Pressed close to the man, staring over his shoulder from behind, was the kindly smiling face of a jackal-headed figure with black and white fur that looked like a bandit’s mask.

“Do you think that he will be OK?” A’kin asked as he reached forward to offer Oho a porcelain cup full of lemon-scented tea.

Oho took the cup and sipped some of piping hot and revitalising tea.

“For the moment yes,” the red-armoured man stated. “But if he does not give me some answers soon, he’ll regret ever having regained conscious.”

“Now, now,” A’kin admonished. “That’s no way to get the cooperation of one of your men is it now Sergeant Perrin?”

“Back off, ‘loth!”

“As you wish,” A’kin said in a small voice and he meekly retreated deeper in to the shop to sort out some small silver items of jewellery that lay scattered on the counter.

“Put the tea down and come with me.” Perrin turned his back on his sub-ordinate and marched out of the shop. Out in the drizzling rain Oho caught up with him after a dozen yards and fell in to step next to him.

“Sarge, with all due respect A’kin was just trying to be helpful.”

“He’s an arcanoloth, enough said.”

The two officers reached the place where the road was churned up from a fight and pushed their way through the small crowd.

“Listen up, berks” Sergeant Perrin addressed the circle of artisans, apprentices, street urchins, a pair of bauriers as well as several other onlookers. “Two Harmonium officers were attacked here less three hours ago. If you have any information, speak up now. Otherwise we’ll come around later and arrest you for failing to give a clear and accurate description of a crime that you witnessed but failed to report when asked to do so by an officer of the Law. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

There was murmur from the crowd, but no one stepped forward or spoke up.

Perrin stomped over, grabbed one of the urchins and lifted her to within a few inches of his face.

“Now listen here, you little runt. Those two ladies were very dear friends of mine and unless you or your little gang of rat-catchers here has something useful to tell me – I’m going to go around to your houses and stamp on all your toys.”

“She… she didn’t see anything,” one of the other urchins stammered. “I’m the one who saw what happened.”

“Good!” Perrin announced. “Oho, go interview the goat-boys will you and tell the rest of this riff-raff to clear off!”

One of the baurier’s cursed, lowered his ram-shaped horns and prepared to charge but he was held back by the older and bigger baurier. Other members of the crowd began to drift away and wander off, although a number of them lurked in some of doorways nearby.

Perrin fired off a series of quick questions at the street urchin as he knelt down on one knee, placing himself at the same level as the child. When the urchin was too slow with answering, he was rewarded with a light cuff. At the end of the short and blunt interrogation Perron got up, pressed a handful of copper coins in the palm of the now surprised and delighted urchin and ordered them to clear off.

Oho had no luck in getting any answers from the two creatures with the upper bodies of men and lower bodies like those of a goat. The younger baurier spat off a long string of insults that was so graphic as to actually make the older baurier blush. In the end the two creatures stomped off angrily, something that Oho thought baurier were very well suited for.

“Did you get anything useful from the urchins, Sarge?”

“Yes. It looks like a Barbazu took Fey towards the Hive. Did you get anything from the goat-twins?”

“No, although I suspect that you knew the answer to that question already.”

“Yeah, let’s call it a small down-payment on breaching my cardinal rule of not having any dealing with ‘loths. Especially A’kin. In fact him more so that all the rest of them including Shemeshka, so-called King of the Cross-Trade.”

“Right, well I was feeling suitably foolish already but now...”

“Good.”

“Don’t you want to hear what happened to me in the shop?”

“A’kin told me already.”

“Hold on a second, if you despise yugoloth’s so much, why would you trust what one has told you?”

“I don’t. A’kin set you up by keeping Fey and Valori occupied by the door whilst the erinye could steal the gems and make good her escape. Beyond that little detail A’kin had no reason to withhold the truth; he knows that I’ll get to the bottom of this one way or another.” Perrin fingered his copper ring, tracing absent-mindedly some of the runes carved on to its surface.

“Can you prove that?”

“If I could, I would have arrested A’kin already. My main concern at the moment is getting to Fey in time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Open you eyes Oho! Can’t you see the trail of blood leading through these back alleys? That’s a lot of blood to be losing, too much blood. Barbazu’s are brutal creatures that delight in maiming and slicing their foes bit by bit.”

“And?”

“…And they’re not stupid. It wants us to follow the trail. The worst part of this is that the Unity of Rings has brought me full-circle or so it would seem.”

“I don’t understand.”

Perrin sighed, took off his ring admired the runes on it briefly and slipped it back on to his index finger.

“The first time that I came across Fey she was cut up pretty bad by one of the gangs in the Hive that was… Anyway she clung to life by a thin thread and to this day I still don’t know how she managed to pull through. I recruited her in to the Harmonium, although I regret it every day as she’s been a royal pain. As a thank you she bought this pair of matching rings and said that they were enchanted to always find each other.”

“Well that’s great!” Oho exclaimed. “So all we have to do is follow the ring and we’ll find her.”

“No. We’re not following the ring.”

“Why in Nine Hells not?”

“Because only after I’d accepted the ring did I find out that she’d bought it at a shop called the Friendly Fiend. Are you beginning to spot a pattern?”

“Lady’s Grace,” Oho swore.

“Exactly,” Perrin replied and the two men quickened their pace to a fast jog as they raced along the thin trail of blood leading in to the Hive.

 

[Monty Tomasi]

Part VIII:


Ella retreated in to the past, searching for a place amongst her memories where she could hide, if only for awhile.

Her body, she knew, was lying on a wooden pallet in the basement of a tenement house in the Hive ward. The barbazu had bandaged up the wound in her abdomen; given her something foul-tasting to drink and her captor had then wordlessly disappeared up the staircase.

Rats scurried out of sight, scratching and rustling as they moved furtively though the darkness. A leak in a pipe running along the ceiling dripped and dripped. Spiders had spun their webs, retreated in to the corners of the web and been devoured by time’s hungry passing. Thick dust covered the floor, broken in places by rat trails criss-crossing in search of food and refuge.

The magic that was released when Ella had fired the pistols still coursed within her, but at a sluggish pace its vigour having dwindled along with the Harmonium officer’s strength. She felt its sinuous embrace simmering inside her, waiting for another release of devastation and death.



“Darkness,” was the first word that Ella remembered from her youth. ‘There’s darkness in that child’ was a phrase she’d often heard in childhood. A number of the children on her street were called tieflings and worse, but something set Ella aside even from them. Her mother rarely let her out and for the first decade of her life, Ella’s world consisted of a room in a basement where she and her parent lived. Her father was a figure that made only fleeting appearances in her childhood and for that Ella was grateful.

Scorn, obedience and shame. Those were the main-stays of Ella’s early years. Her mother treated her with scorn, obedience was demanded without question and despite her tender age she sensed even then the shame her parents felt at having brought her in to existence. When Ella did finally move beyond the borders of her small world, she found her second birth even more painful than the first.

“There’s a witch living in our street,” the children used to boast. “That there is her child, the one with the dark wings and golden eyes. Careful lest she steals your soul and devours you whole.”

Ella was groomed for begging, spying, cheating and lying. These were the skills a mother taught her child in order to scrape a living in the Hive. There was never any love between mother and daughter. At least not from the mother. Ella did once try to open up to her mother, to draw close to her, but the punishment she received was sufficient to teach her never to try again.

On Ella’s twelfth birthday her mother died, killed by a man in a fit of rage over a few copper coins. Ella saw the remains taken away by the collectors and was then left by herself. That evening her father came by to visit. He appeared quite suddenly with his lover at his side. The tall lord looked down his nose at the girl, all the while his fey companion laughing hysterically at the twisted progeny of a past coupling.

“So is that thing really your daughter?” the dark, beautiful, and malevolent creature asked.

“Regrettably so,” the nobleman replied.

“And will you take her to the Unblessed Court, my lover?”

“No, my dear, I will leave her here with the human filth. Darkness only knows what possessed me to conceive such a child.”

Without another word her father departed and just like that Ella was left on her own, without family or friends.

Orphans in the Hive have little in the way of opportunities; their lives are brief and violent affairs. Ella survived the next few years through sheer force of will alone and for some of that time she was in control of the direction of her life.

Not a day went by without misery, hunger and fear. Living from one moment to the next Ella developed in to a beautiful woman sought after by many. Fearing the entrapment of her childhood, she never remained in one place for long. Breaking out by guile, luck or skill with a blade she managed for a number of years to remain one step ahead of the gangs that roved the Hive.

One day her luck ran out, cornered in a street walled up by the Dabus, a gang closed in and a net dropped from a nearby house preventing her from taking flight. There was only darkness after that.

When she awoke from the nightmare she immediately felt that they had taken her wings. Black, silky wings that protected her in the night and lent her flight when there was no other way out.

“My wings,” she cried and prayed for an end to her suffering.



With a start Ella awoke from her dreams of childhood. The memory of losing her wings returning her to present. She cried for the void left inside of her. She cried for darkness re-awoken inside her from those early childhood years by the sorcery of the Rhulic-forged pistols. And she cried for the man who had carried her away from the torment of her life in the Hive to be re-born as an officer in the Harmonium.

“I have a message for your boss,” tormented voices echoed around the chamber. “So listen closely girlie.”

Ella opened her eyes and all she saw was the mould-covered ceiling, detritus strewn across the floor, her wooden pallet and a bone scroll-case lying along side her. She could not identify the source of the voice and it sounded to her as if the pain-wracked voices were reaching her across a great distance.

“We have no interest in you or your kind. Nor do we have an interest in what is happening to the Believers of the Source.”

“The erinye is what concerns us. She is being investigated for irregularities that took place during the process of her promotion. If you or your kind interferes with her capture; both you and she will be taken to Dis to stand trial.”

“Take my advice,” dying voices whispered. “Tell your boss to back off.”

 

[Monty Tomasi]

Part IX:


“So what’s the plan?” Oho asked whilst keeping pace with his companion through the narrow alleyways of the ward.

“We go in, kill the bad guys and rescue the girl,” Perrin replied.

“I see,” Oho stated quietly.

“Do you have a better plan?” Perrin asked coming to a sudden stop.

“Well yes, Sarge, as a matter of fact I do.” Oho pointed over the roofs of the nearby houses to the large blade-decorated domes of the Mortuary. The distant sound of grief-filled wailing was carried on the wind with an undercurrent of funeral dirges. “We’re on their turf here, the streets here have less visible crime and few big events go on here that their high-ups are not aware off.”

“The Dustmen.”

“That’s right, the Dustmen probably don’t care two hoots what is happening to Ella or that she has been kidnapped by an agent of the Baatezu. In their eyes we’re all dead in any case and the sooner we stop struggling the better. But if you’re smart cutter and plan to operate in this district it pays to play by certain rules, strange as that may sound for the usual image of total anarchy in the Hive.”

“And you know this exactly how?” Perrin asked, levelling a stare at Oho.

“I ran a job once in the Mortuary,” Oho shrugged and looked away.

“OK. So what is your plan?”

“Simple. We get some Dustmen robes, find where Ella is being held and when we get there… in we’ll walk.”

“Walk in just like that?”

”Indeed, walk softly and carry a big stick.”

“I’m not very happy with this plan,” Perrin said folding his arms.

“Just trust me on this Sarge, I’ll be back in a few minutes with some Dustmen robes and some staves. That’s all we’ll need to get Ella back.”

Sergeant Perrin nodded his consent and lent against the wall, lighting the stub of a blackweed tar cigar. Oho dashed off in to the hazy rain and was lost from sight within moments.

The minutes ticked by and Oho did not return. Perrin’s cigar burnt out and he was forced to light a new one. It was his last cigar, the one he’d been saving for when they’d rescued Ella and Valori.

After almost half an hour of standing in the rain, leaning against the wall of an alleyway whilst keeping an eye on the nearby road Perrin heard something slowly rumbling down the road. A cart pulled by an emaciated horse inched its way forward along the muddy street. Two figures dressed in black rags sat on the front of the cart and another man in a black robe rode on the back amongst the mouldering cadavers.

The black-robed man leapt off the back of the cart, his feet splashing through the large puddles, hurried over to where Perrin stood and pulled back his hood. Oho grinned from ear to ear, his normally spiky white hair smoothed down and with ash smeared on to his pale skin. The Harmonium officer passed his companion an identical black robe and together they climbed on to the back of the cart.

“Nice ride,” Perrin said after awhile. “Can you get this cursed nag to go any faster?”

“Thanks but it was the best I could do at such short notice.” Oho responded. “If they try and make the horse go any faster, she’ll be joining us on the back of the cart and suren.”

The pair rode in silence on the back of the cart for several hours. The figures on the front occasionally stopped the cart, picked up a body lying in the street and added it to the growing pile before moving on. The deaders cart made its way past numerous sights in the Hive, but as the cart rumbled on at a snails pace deeper in to the ward - no one paid it any attention.

Children wearing little more than tattered clothing hunted through the streets looking for rats to eat, armed men and women lurked on a street corner staking out their turf all the while fending off against attacks from rival gangs. Xaosmen fought, drank and howled at odd moments in a tavern that was built from the remains of a collapsed tower.

Occasional screams erupted from inside one of the tenements leaning precariously against one another. Between the houses were rows of shanties that covered the roofs, alleys and spilled in to the streets. One of the shanties collapsed when a pile of some heavy material came loose from a nearby roof. People swarmed out of the surrounding buildings covering the remains in the shanty in moments. As the cart rumbled by it was obvious that the locals hadn’t bothered to look for survivors, they were only after valuables to salvage.

“My patience is growing thin,” Perrin muttered as the bodies from the crushed shanty were added to the pile.

“Just a little longer Sarge, we’re almost there. These cutters know where they are going, it’s all been taken care off. Paid them a fair penny too for getting us here nice and quiet with the minimum of fuss.” Oho smiled. “Don’t suppose the Harmonium will cover my expenses will they Sarge?”

“You’ll be lucky Oho. But if we get Fey out in one piece and all of us back to the Lower ward, I’ll buy the first round.”

“Well spank me blind and call me Pale Night,” Oho said chuckling loudly. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you offer anyone a free drink.”

Oho glanced at Perrin beneath his hood and saw that his commanding officer was clearly not amused. He coughed and ran his hand up and down the blackwood staff lying on his lap.

“Why do you suppose they took Valori?” Oho asked. “Ella knows her way around this city like the back of her hand. Valori is just an alchemist; she’s not even a graduated Harmonium officer.”

“Valori is an officer and that’s official, got it? As to why they took Valori… well let’s just get Fey first and we’ll worry about that next.”

The cart turned the corner in to a narrow street within sight of the domed structures of the mortuary and Oho leapt off lightly. Perrin stepped off the back of the cart, and with Oho in the lead walked, at a solemn pace towards one of the houses.

Oho rapped on the door with his blackwood staff and waited a couple of minutes for a response. Oho rapped a second time and again there was no response.

“Let me try,” Perrin stated and straightened his shoulders standing in front of the locked door. With a heave he kicked the wooden door and it gave way with a loud crash.

“Whatever happened to walking softly Sarge?” Oho asked.

“Easy for you,” Perrin responded pointing to Oho’s bare feet. “Not so easy for me,” he said glancing down at his hobnailed boots.

From inside the house sounds of alarm could be heard with people running up and down the stairs accompanied with the sound of swords being drawn.

“OK Sarge, we’ll do it your way from here on,” Oho said as he leapt through the broken doorway with his staff leading the charge.

“Number five sword,” Sergeant Perrin said quietly, drew the broadsword that had materialised in his rusty scabbard and followed Oho in to the breach.

The two Harmonium officers charged in to the main hallway, colliding with a group of tieflings who’d hastily erected a barrier made from broken furniture and metal boxes. Oho ran up the side of the wall, using his long staff for leverage and jumped over the heads of the surprised tieflings. Perrin simply charged forward in to and through the barrier with his broadsword cutting him a path through boxes, chairs and tieflings.

The battle in the entrance corridor was over almost before it had started. The tieflings taken by surprise by the ferocity of the attack of two men, who at first glance appeared to be Dustmen, soon gave ground. By the time the third of the dozen tieflings was cut down the scrambled over each other in an effort to get away.

“Up or down?” Perrin asked as he wiped his blade on a patchwork cloak from one of the fallen tiefers.

“Down I’d say,” Oho replied as he watched the tieflings advance in reverse away from them up the stairs.

Perrin pushed forward to the door under the stair and with another heave kicked the door off its hinges. The two Harmonium officers raced down the stairs two at a time and both burst in to the cellar at almost the same instance. A quick look around the room revealed no obvious threats and lying on the wooden pallet was the sleeping form of a copper-haired Harmonium officer whose stomach wound had been expertly treated and bandaged.

Oho and Perrin almost knocked each over in their rush to pick Ella.

“Please allow me,” Oho said as the two officers stood facing each other over the wooden pallet. “I got her in to this mess and I swore to myself that I would carry her out of this hell hole.”

Perrin looked down and saw that Ella was sleeping soundly. He noted the bone scroll case before looking back at the resting officer. After taking a look up and down her resting form, his frown softened somewhat and the edge of his mouth twisted upwards in to crooked smile.

“Besides,” Oho continued. “It’d be getting to be a bit of a habit if you carry her for a second time out of the Hive.”

“Fair enough,” Perrin responded picking up the scroll-case instead.

Oho gently lifted Ella in to his arms and together the three officers walked up and out of the house. When they got outside the surviving tieflings threw down debris, some badly aimed daggers and all manner of insults that the trio of Harmonium officers ignored.

Signalling for the cart to come over towards them, Oho gently lay Ella down on top of the pile of bodies and climbed aboard together with Perrin. As the cart rumbled off down the street Ella woke briefly from her nightmares and felt someone squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“You’re safe,” Oho responded. “We’re taking you out of the Hive in a deader’s cart.”

“So am I dead?” Ella’s voice sounded faint.

“Of course not, Ella. If you die then who will I have to fight with? Arguing with Sarge is like arguing with a wall. At least with you I can trade insults and have some feeling of satisfaction afterwards.”

“Pike it Oho,” Ella retorted weakly. “If you don’t quit rattling such screed I’ll cut our tongue out, got it? Besides, if I die there’ll only be normal humans in the squad and we can’t be having that now can we. Somebody’s got to keep an eye on the Brotherhood spy within our faction.”

Oho chuckled softly and squeezed his companion’s hand a second time. Perrin stared off in to space having re-lit his cigar that had gone out during the break-in to the house. After several minutes Ella fell in to a deep sleep and began snoring softly.

“And I love you too,” Oho whispered quietly in to Ella’s ear as he gently laid a blanket over the sleeping Harmonium officer.



Once the cart being driven by two figures dressed in rags reached the outskirts of the Hive, the two men and sleeping woman got off the wagon. Silver crossed palms, oaths were sworn of none having witnessed anything in the least bit suspicious and the two groups went their separate ways.

Ella was taken to the Barracks were clerics took off her bandages, examined the healed wound and put on fresh bandages. Oho went off to get washed and changed whilst Perrin went to his superior to present his report.

“Come in,” a voice called from within the office just as Perrin walked up to the door.

Perrin opened the door, stepped in to the office and closed the door behind him. Seated behind the desk was a female dwarf dressed in red leather armour who was in the process of writing out the last part of a lengthy scroll. Piled in a tray on her left was a tray with scrolls with copious notes and in a tray to her right were several sealed scroll cases. The shelves that covered the rear and side walls of the office were stacked high with books going from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. The wall facing the corridor had fewer shelves that held a small number of curious items carefully preserved beneath small glass coverings.

“News has just reached me that you have managed to extract Corporal Ella-Morro-Moo Thorn-Willow-Hook from the Hive. Well done Sergeant Perrin uth Mastrantonio.”

“Thank you Sir,” Perrin responded.

The dwarven officer looked up from her scroll and peered at the tall man looming over her desk. She drew in a deep breath, her ample chest heaving against her leather vest, and slowly put down her ink-covered feather.

“Thank you… Ma’am.”

“Sir?” Perrin asked with a completely blank face staring straight ahead at the spine of a book labelled with the title ‘Mysteries of Shekinester’s Lost Sisters’.

“Ma’am, that’s the word you’re looking for,” the dwarven woman stated acidly. “I believe that we have had this conversation before have we not, Perrin?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Right,” the dwarf opened her draw, took out a triangular wooden block with a name carved in to it and placed it on the front of her desk with a firm thump. “What does this say?”

“I’m sorry Sir, but I don’t read dwarf.”

“Dwarven! You imbecile! It says Captain Narcovi. Get it? Narcovi is a woman’s name! No male dwarf in recorded history has ever been called Narcovi!”

“If you say so Sir,” Perrin stated still looking straight ahead.

“Right!” Narcovi took a deep breath, closed her eyes briefly and then held up her hand. “I believe that you retrieved a scroll from where Ella was left, am I correct?”

“Yes Sir,” the Harmonium officer said drawing a bone scroll case from beneath his cloak.

“Good,” Narcovi said as she took the scroll-case from her sub-ordinate. “I’m gladdened to see that you’ve not broken the seal.”

The dwarf took out the scroll, unfurled it on her desk and spent several long minutes poring over it. “Hmm,” she remarked and re-read the document. “Well, it all seems to be in order.”

“What’s in order, Sir?”

“The agreement for a joint search to arrest the erinye presently believed to be holding Corporal Valori Vasco.”

“Joint… search…” Perrin said finally tearing his gaze away from the books opposite him. “Joint with whom, if I may ask?”

“Well, with the Baatorian representative of course, the one who left the scroll next to Officer Thorn-Willow-Hook. This document has been signed up by our high-ups and theirs and it all seems to be in order. So now you in turn have your orders Officer uth Mastrantonio. Find this barbazu, arrest the erinye and bring back Officer Vasco”

“Son of a…”

“I’ll thank you for not swearing in my office, Perrin.” The dwarven woman stared hard over her horn-rimmed spectacles at the tall Harmonium officer despite the corners of her mouth curling upwards in to a smirk. “You have your orders, now go carry them out. Be sure to do it in the order specified.”

“Yes Sir!” Perrin stated forcefully. He saluted, spun on his heel and marched out of the office slamming the door shut behind him. The curious items on the shelf rattled and jumped underneath their protective glass domes, but none of them fell off the shelf.

Narcovi waited until she could no longer hear Perrin stomping down the corridor before she felt the harmony of her office had return to a sufficient level where she could continue with her writing.

 

[Monty Tomasi]

Part X:


Perrin stormed along the corridors of the Barracks with his square jaw clenched. Along the way to the dormitory wing he stopped by the armoury and picked up a man-catcher that the surprised quartermaster handed over gleeful smile. Turning a corner he ran in to two new recruits who were wrestling with each other each trying to learn how to incapacitate an opponent.

“Simple,” Sergeant Perrin responded after they asked him to demonstrate the head-lock technique. He kicked one of them hard in the shin and spun the other one around face-first in to the wall using the pole-end of the man-catcher.

“On the streets of Sigil it matters only that you survive. Honourable combat is for jousts, drop any pretensions of fighting fair now and you’ll live through tomorrow… maybe.”

Perrin left the two groaning recruits and entered the dormitory wing. Heading for the sleeping chambers reserved for injured officers - he nodded to several of the healers passing by. Suddenly there was a shout from the room at the end of the corridor and healers converged on the room. An arc of black lightning shot outwards from the room, sending several of the healers and orderlies flying.

“How’s she doing?” Perrin asked as he helped one of the healers to her feet.

“Not good,” the woman said staring glumly at her feet. The symbol of St. Cuthbert that hung from her neck had absorbed the brunt of the discharge but had become a molten lump as a result. “The magic inside her is raging out of control.”

“Hmm, so I take it Cuthbert has nothing to say on the issue?”

The healer looked up, her eyes blazing and her hand unconsciously reaching for the charred holy symbol. “I will thank you not to make disparaging comments on matters that you do not understand Sergeant, especially when your remarks are bordering on the blasphemous. We’re doing the best that we can, but what she needs is help getting herself under control and that is something that at the moment eludes us.”

“I see,” Perrin remarked quietly.

“Truth is Sarge that only her iron will is keeping her here with us. What little control she can exert is enough to keep her alive, but we don’t know for how long.”

“Thank you priestess, “ Perrin said laying a hand on her shoulder. “I will only be a few moments and then I’ll send someone who will be able to help her better than I.”

The priestess looked in to Perrin’s eyes and then away at the wall. She sighed and waited outside the room whilst the Harmonium officer carefully placed his man-catcher against the wall before going inside to the room where the copper haired woman lay tied to the bed. The tangled sheets smouldered from the black lightning that arced at random intervals along the sleeping woman in the bed. The copper-haired woman’s eyes moved rapidly behind closed eye-lids and she silently mouthed words that only those living in a world of dark, twisted nightmares could comprehend.

The priestess caught a glimpse of the Harmonium officer bending down to whisper something in to the ear of the sleeping woman, but she could not make out the words. Moments later the copper-haired woman visibly relaxed and the black lightning did not return.

“What did you say?” the priestess asked, her voice rising.

Perrin winked and brushed past her, grabbing his man-catcher that he’d lent against the wall before going inside.

“That was not a question Sergeant Perrin,” the priestess said, pulling rank. “That was an order. What did you say to her?”

Perrin stopped in his tracks and turned slowly. “I asked her if she knew the difference between a succubus and an erinye?”

The priestess furrowed her brow and crossed her arms. “I can tell that I’m not going to like the answer.”

“The succubus is a cheaper thrill.” The Harmonium officer replied, but neither Perrin nor the priestess broke out in to a smile. “It’s Hiver humour Ma’am, reminds her of her childhood and a more harmonious time in her life.”

“But surely that was before she joined our faction?” the priestess asked.

“Indeed Ma’am, I understand that it does not reflect well on us but right now I am most concerned with keeping my officer alive. Even if that means going counter to some of our training; in the long run she’ll be revealed to be a great credit and example of what it means to be a member of the Harmonium.”

“You’d stake your reputation on that would you, Sarge?”

“I already have Ma’am, my commission as well.” Perrin saluted the priestess and marched away in search of his remaining offcer. He found Oho several minutes later sitting in one of the chapels in meditation.

“Bhott Atcha,” Oho said by way of greeting.

“Oho,” Perrin said as he sat down in a pew behind the kneeling monk. “I need you to do something for me, it’s not going to be pleasant but it’s something right up your alley.”

“Sure thing,” Oho replied finishing his meditative exercises. He stood up, shook both his legs and smoothed his simple red shirt. His white spiky hair had the ash and soot washed out and the Harmonium officer had replaced his simple garments for a fresh set. “Just ask and I’m there. Who are we going up against?”

“I need you to sit with Fey,” Perrin said looking up at Oho. “I need you to sit with her, talk to her, tell her jokes and be there for her should she wake up.”

“But Sarge you know how I feel about her.”

“I do.”

“Then you know that my being there will just drive her barmy. She hates to even have me around never mind having much of a conversation with her that does not involve both of us screaming at the top of our lungs. Once our throats are worn out we often resort to whispering caustic insults that’d strip the paint of the wall of the infirmary.” Oho shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. “We don’t get on, simple as that. If I go in there and talk at her for awhile she’s likely to wake up in a foul mood and we’ll just end up fighting.”

“That’s what I’m counting on Oho,” Perrin smirked and rose to his feet. “Fey is a fighter, it’s what she’s had to be all her life. It’s just lucky for you that she hates your guts otherwise I’d have to hire some bleaknik artists to wake her from her reverie. Then you’d really learn what misery is. It’s still a matter up for debate whether she hates you or the fensir twins more.”

“Sarge, I understand what you’re trying to get at but I don’t think that it will work. Even if it does it’s not a great idea… in my opinion, of course, Sir.”

“Noted,” Perrin responded. “Still, you have your orders so get to it.”

Oho saluted and headed for the exit of the deserted chapel. “Sir, if I may ask about the case that we’re investigating… what is the connection between the Godsmen being abducted for their previous lives, the gems that the erinye trades in and them kidnapping Valori.”

“Good question Oho.” Perrin stood up, lent the man-catcher in the crook of his arm and lit the stubby end of a black-weed tar cigar. “That’s what I plan to find out. Whilst you’re busy sweet-talking Fey I’ll be out on patrol with the Baatezu. We’ll start at the Foundry and interview each of the Believers of the Source that claims to have been kidnapped.”

“You don’t believe that they were all kidnapped?”

“No,” Perrin responded as he puffed on his cigar. “I’ll have the testimonials sent around for you and Fey to go over. In the mean time I’m stuck with the barbazu but perhaps that’s not such a bad thing after all. I can always use him to get the Godsmen riled up good and proper.”

Oho shook his head and walked out of the chapel at a leisurely pace towards the dormitory wing. Perrin left the Barracks through the main entrance, met up with the barbazu waiting patiently outside and the two set off for the Lower ward without a word passed between them.

After some time they arrived at the gates of the Foundry and the guards initially refused them entry. After some pressure from Perrin and some none too subtle threats from the barbazu the unlikely pair were greeted by a high-up who greeted them and promised full cooperation.

The factol led the pair around the Foundry and stood close-by whilst the interviewed several of the Godsmen who’d claimed to have been abducted and then had their past lives stolen.

When Perrin mentioned a few names of Godsmen that they’d not interviewed the factol gave an evasive answer about many of their members having taken a leave of absence whilst they waited for the trouble to subside. Neither the Harmonium nor the Baatezu could get anything further off use from those that they interviewed and after a gruelling day they retired back to the Barracks. The barbazu gave Perrin a mocking salute and marched off.

The next day when Perrin set out to interview more of the Godsmen who worked outside of the Foundry in the nearby artisan workshops. Along the way he was joined by the barbazu, but neither spoke a word of greeting. Together the interviewed two dozen Godsmen without uncovering any further information.

When Perrin checked in at the end of the day on Oho and Fey, he found that the copper-haired Harmonium officer had regained consciousness and was in the midst of a heated argument with the blonde-spiky haired officer.

“Get out of my room, you sodding berk. All you do is read through those stupid scrolls and leer at my chest.”

“Pike it, “ Oho retorted using the little Cager slang he’d picked up. “Sarge has given me explicit orders and I am following them to the letter. He said nothing about leering, which by the way, I was most definitely not doing. The fact that you insist on sleeping in next to nothing is not my problem.”

“Look, just get out will you? Or so help me, by Shekinester, I’ll climb out of this bed and knock you in to next week. You, you….you hag-spawned, sorry excuse for a spiky haired, maggot!”

Perrin stood with his back against the wall listening to the exchange. Suddenly black lighting discharged arcing out of the room and he heard Oho yelp in pain.

“Serves you right,” Ella said triumphantly in a weak voice.

“Uh, that’s the sixth time today.” Oho groaned. “And look… You’ve just burnt another hole in bed sheets.”

“GET OUT!” Ella yelled.

“Lucky for the both of us the healers left a pile of fresh bedding materials.” Oho commented in a resigned tone. “Sarge is going to owe me big time for all the baby-sitting that I’ve been stuck with.”

As Perrin walked away he heard Ella let rip with a string of expletives that set the hairs on the back of his neck on edge. Oho’s peels of laughter drowned out the cursing and he then retorted with a slightly-longwinded but very graphic set of descriptive insults in return involving lightning mephitis cross-breeding with eladrins.

However Perrin’s mood was destroyed when he retuned to his room to find a note on his bed. From the smell of the note it had been penned by a fiend and after opening the letter Perrin was unsurprised to see barbazu’s spidery writing on the parchment.

Considering the lack of further abductions since your officer was taken, I have requested that this investigation be shut down. According to our contract you and your team are to hand over all evidence collected during the course of the investigation.

As a gesture of goodwill the Harmonium will be compensated for the loss of its officer in the line of duty…

Perrin did not bother reading the remainder of the small print of the letter. With slow and deliberate care he carefully balled the letter up and threw it in to the hearth.

“This isn’t over,” Perrin stated. “This is far from over.… One minute you stab one of my team, then you force us to work alongside you and now you want to pull the plug, well it isn’t that easy... I’ll see this investigation through to the end and I swear by all the archons on Mount Celestia that I’ll get Valori back even if I have to go to Nessus personally to do so.”