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Message: <blockquote data-quote="hbarsquared" data-source="post: 3083432" data-attributes="member: 4550">Wow, many apologies for the excessive delay.  I've been out of town every weekend this month, and the time has gotten away from me.  And, as always, I appreciate any comments and criticisms.  I am always seeking to improve my writing, and any form of feedback is welcomed.  Thanks for reading.  Here's another revised update.Chapter One, Part FiveThe orphanage rested on the corner of Lantern Street and Ash Avenue, its charcoal-colored stones held together with mold-encrusted mortar.  The windows on both stories were tightly shuttered, the bleached and splintering wood seemed to droop forlornly in the morning light.  Unlit lanterns hung on either side of the oaken front door, mounted to which was a green copper knocker shaped like a smiling gargoyle’s visage, its nostrils pierced by a copper ring.  Abrina paused and breathed deeply before grasping the ring and knocked on the door of the Lantern Street Orphanage.The door slowly creaked opened after a few moments and an elderly halfling woman peered out, her eyes flickering with suspicion.“Who sent you?” she asked curtly, refusing to open the door further than the scant inches it was already.“Me?” Abrina responded, taken aback.  She had not expected quite so much distrust.  “My name is Abrina, and I was sent by Jenya from the Church of Enlil.  I was hoping—”“Jenya?” interrupted the halfling with a raspy voice.  “I don’t know any Jenya.”“Cleric Urikas,” Abrina answered patiently, hoping perhaps the formal name sounded familiar.   “She is the leader of the church in Cauldron while Delasharn is away.  She was the one to give the proclamation to bring the kidnappers to justice.”The halfling's eyes softened and she opened the door further.  “Oh, yes” she said, motioning Abrina into the orphanage.  “She has sent you, has she?  You don’t look familiar.  What was your name again?”“Abrina” she replied, stepping into the dimly lit main hall.  “I am actually only a visitor, here.  A cleric of Ninurta.  She requested my help to find the . . . children.”The woman nodded, closing the door and showing Abrina in.  “I apologize for my attitude.  There have been plenty of other strangers in this place, and still no word of the children.  It’s been frustrating, to say the least.  My name is Gretchyn, the headmistress here.”Gretchyn lead the way through the hall, leading Abrina past a playroom filled with small toys chaotically strewn across the floor and a schoolroom where a young woman walked among several rowdy children.“That’s Willow, our schoolteacher here,” said Gretchyn, opening a door to a small room with a small desk in the corner and small shelves bulging with aging books and sheaves of paper.  “She volunteers, mostly, bless her heart.  Without her, I don’t know what Neva and I would do to occupy them.”“Neva?” Abrina questioned, her eye lingering briefly on the lock of Gretchyn’s door.“She’s the nurse.  Neva helps me watch the children, fixes up their scraps and bruises.”Abrina returned her gaze to Gretchyn.  “Who else stays here?”“Well, we have Jaromir Copperbeard, our gardener,” Gretchyn said, ticking the name off on one finger.  “He keeps to himself, mostly.  Neva Fanister, Willow Atherfell.  Patch, good old Patch, keeps the place clean.  And Temar Flagonstern is our most excellent cook, and he gets along quite well with the children, too.”Gretchyn winked conspiratorily.  “I believe he sneaks them cookies when I’m not looking.  And I think he thinks I don’t know.”Abrina nodded, smiling politely.  None of the people she described sounded especially like kidnappers, not that she should be able to immediately tell.  “Does anyone have the keys to the children’s rooms, besides you?”Gretchyn shook her head.  “Nope.  Just me, and I make sure to lock up every night, both the outer doors and the children’s doors.  Nothing gets in, and the children don’t manage to get into trouble.”“Then how…” Abrina began, pondering aloud.  The locks are key to finding them, she repeated to herself.  The locks.    “Have your locks been damaged in any way, recently?  Are you sure no one else has access?”“Of course I’m sure,” Gretchyn snorted, “and the town guards already asked those questions.  That pair of half-elf investigators working for the lord mayor, too.  The locks’re perfect, you can check them out yourself.  And the locks have been working fine ever since the day I that gnome locksmith, Keygan Ghelve, installed them ten years ago.”“And he wouldn’t have a copy of the key, would he?”“Well, I guess he could,” she replied thoughtfully.  “Perhaps.  But I don’t see why.  He’s been in business a while, and no one has ever complained about his locks or reported him.  Besides, it’s been years.  Why would he kidnap children now?”Abrina nodded.  “You’re right, it wouldn’t make much sense.  Would it be okay if I spoke with some of your staff, and maybe the children?”Gretchyn rose.  “Sure, you can, just don’t go upsetting anybody.  Half of those children have already forgotten about the whole thing, but if you mention any of the missing kids they might start bawling.”Abrina followed Gretchyn out of the office, her thoughts in turmoil.  Maybe one of the staff might provide some insight.  Over and over she repeated the divination’s riddle, hoping that its meaning would click in her mind, like a key in its lock.The locks are key to finding them.After over an hour, she came away with as much as when she had begun: nothing.  Abrina had spoken with the schoolteacher, the gardener, the nurse, and even several of the children.  The most she was able to discover was a stilted description of a nightmare one of the children had the other night.  Something about an evil gnome with crooked teeth and a tattered cloak.  The other children quickly chimed in with their own dreams, covering the gamut of monsters lurking underneath their bed to fairies that came in the night.  Exasperated, Abrina left the playroom, prepared to leave empty-handed.Before reaching the door, a half-orc dressed in wrinkled, stained clothes with a patch over his left eye approached, a broom held tightly in both hands.  He said nothing, but stood in front of her with wide, pleading eyes.  Abrina had not seen him at the orphanage, but assumed this must have been the janitor of the institution and vaguely remembered Gretchyn referring to someone named Patch.  She assumed this was most likely him.“Yes?”The half-orc twisted his hands along the wooden handle of the broom as if to wring out any water it might have.  “I need… I… I…” His voice petered out into a long sigh and the half-orc turned to leave.“Patch?” Abrina called to him.  Did he know something?  Why else would he approach her?  He turned at her voice, eyes still pleading, asking her to discover a secret he was not offering to tell.“Patch? Is it about the children?”Patch nodded, but did not elaborate and did not step toward her.“Do you know what has happened to them?”He shook his head and once again turned to leave.“Wait!” Abrina called.  “I’ve been sent by Jenya of the temple of Enlil to investigate the disappearance of the children.  I am trying to find them and bring them back home.  Can you help me?”Patch glanced around the room furtively, and seeing no one he stepped closer to Abrina.  The thick and acrid smells of sweat, oil and cleaning vinegar nearly overwhelmed her.  “Please,” he said, “you can’t tell no one.”Abrina nodded.  “I won’t,” she said softly.  “What do you know?”“It was Revus.  He’s with the Last Laugh guild.  You know, them’s with the black and white faces.”Abrin’s eyes widened.“He said I could make a better life for myself, if I kept an eye on Terrem,” Patch continued.  “I did, I kept a good eye on him.  And now he’s gone!”Tears welled in the half-orc’s eyes as he gripped the handle to his broom and his breathing grew deep and heavy.  He tried to continue, with every other word punctuated by a wracking sob.“I… didn’t mean… to hurt… no one….  The children…”“Patch, what do you mean?  Do you know where they are?  Are they hurt?”“I don’t know, I don’t know.  I was just to watch out for Terrem.”Uncomfortable and unsure what she could do for the hulking janitor, Abrina reached out and hesitatingly patted Patch on the shoulder, withdrawing her hand quickly.  It did not seem that the sobbing half-orc noticed.“Don’t tell Gretchyn,” he asked longingly, wiping tears from his eyes as he clamed himself.  “She’d be disappointed in me.”Abrina nodded noncommittally, but Patch seemed to take it as an affirmation.  Taking his broom he walked past her, sweeping the floor as if he had never stopped her in the first place.  With a bewildered shake of her head, she opened the front door of the orphanage and stepped out.</blockquote>

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