Session Thirteen, Part Two: Bloodstains and Bargains
"Give me a boost, will you?" Di'Fier stepped into the hands of Arinbjorn, who grunted as the Watch-mage put his full weight onto that boot. With that aid, he was able to pull himself to the top of the wall, where he studied the handprint.
Small hands, he thought, holding one of his own above it.
And how did it get all the way up here? He looked down to the others, below. "No sign of anything else, just the handprint."
Below, Captain Donnach grunted as he crouched by the corpse, his eyes tracing a track from it to the wall. Di'Fier watched the Captain consider for a moment, and reflected how rare it was that the man actually got out from behind his desk these days.
"Let's look at the other side of that wall," Donnach decided, and Di'Fier let himself down to follow him. A few moments later, and they were studying the dusty cobbles. Donnach pointed. "You can see where the killer jumped down, there, and out to the street...but there'll be no sign of him now, not with as many people have walked there today."
Di'Fier stared at the spot on the cobbles obediently, then nodded as if he saw exactly what the Captain was talking about. "Whoever it was, they only left one handprint...like they just vaulted over the wall..."
Dru glanced to the water, her keen elven eyes spotting reflected movement. She stepped back, her hand going to the hilt of her rapier as the rat-creature lunged past her, knife whistling through the air to connect with solid wood. Then the serpentmen were upon them.
Dru's blade batted aside a spear-thrust, and the creature hissed with rage. Calmly, she reaached her swordblade into its open mouth and punctured its tiny reptilian brain, giving the blade a twist to dump the corpse into the sewer-channel. Her companion slid easily under the other serpentman's guard, half-climbing it as he fastened his teeth in the back of its neck. The serpentman arched its neck in pain, and the rat's blade slid across its throat. A spray of blood, almost black in the half-light, arced out to splash into the water. The serpentman collapsed to its knees, trying to cover the wound with its hands, but the rat shoved it from the walkway and into the muck. He turned to Dru and grinned a bloody grin.
Moments later, two figures climbed carefully from a sewer grating just outside the Temple of Knowledge. They slipped unseen into the building.
"Where's your partner?"
Di'Fier hesitated. "Oh," he said, as casually as he could. "She's probably at Swagfest."
Definitely not roaming around the streets with a recently freed rat-creature, no sir.
"Mm-hm. Well, you'd go find her - I want the two of you in Swagfest tomorrow, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious."
Brother Jemis was not having a good night. Bad enough that he was stuck on desk duty when the rest of the city was at Swagfest, but now a pair of blood-soaked apparitions had appeared in the vestibule - and from the smell of it, they had taken the low road to get there.
"I-is that a
tail?" he ventured, trying to get a closer look at the smaller one in the dim light.
"It's a long story," said the elven woman testily. Her hand was resting on the empty dagger-sheath at her side, her fingers drumming nervously. Hadn't Brother Norton said something about an elf? It was her, it
had to be her. The woman's next words confirmed it.
"How
is Norton anyway?"
"He...ah...he is quite fine. He's getting the best care the temple can provide...on the mainland."
And far away from you, he thought,
which is probably exactly what he needs. I know it's what I need... He looked at the elf, swallowed, and turned his gaze to her companion. Surely that wasn't a snout under that hood...
"Dru!" A voice called out. "And...is that a
tail?" Brother Egil, lantern in hand, had emerged from the depths of the library, and Jemis sighed with relief. Egil could handle this now. He closed his eyes for just a moment, and when he opened them the elf was leaning across his table. His eyes went wide with surprise.
"You tell Norton to get better soon," she said, and grinned the sort of grin that he always imagined a wolf grinning, just before it did something very unpleasant to you.
As Egil, the elf, and her cloaked companion moved off, Brother Jemis' right eye began to twitch.
Di'Fier squinted into the morning sun as Captain Lydon held up the struggling wharf rat. He delivered the speech for the opening of the rat race with little enthusiasm, and heaved the creature out into the crowd. As the racers thundered off in hot pursuit of the rodent, Dru leaned against the wall of a tavern. "Hard to believe that Egil won that three years ago," she began. "He says he's going to pray for a spell that will let him understand our friend."
Di'Fier nodded, studying the crowd. Most of the younger, fitter celebrants were off chasing the rat. It looked to be headed east, to Scurvytown.
It'll probably feel right at home, he thought.
His ponderings were interrupted by Dru. "I've never seen a ship like that before."
Di'Fier turned to look at it.
Now where did that come from? The ship was some sort of strange outrigger craft, long and slender, its front sweeping down to meet the water in a graceful reverse curve that would have signalled the presence of a ram on a warship - but no warship would have been built like that. Its hull was painted in bright colors: a cerulean blue with gold trim, and its sails were translucent against the sky.
The pair moved to the end of the pier to study the crew - for now there were creatures visible on the deck. More or less humanoid...but definitely not human. Chestnut hair was pulled into a knot above mustard-yellow skin. Their noses were practically nonexistent - little more than a pair of vertical slits above their lipless mouth. The things had high cheekbones and pointed ears even longer than an elf's. They were tall - taller than a man - and skeletally gaunt.
A group of the creatures was assembling on the deck. No sailors these, but some sort of guard in ornate armor. They gathered around the gangway to the lower portion of the ship and waited.
"What the hell are
those?" Dru asked her partner, but Di'Fier could only shake his head.
Rising now from the midst of the yellow-skinned creatures was a different being entirely. Like them, it was tall and gaunt, but there the resemblance ended. The creature's skin was a blue to rival that of its ship, and it towered several feet above the tallest of its escorts. Its spidery fingers grasped what looked to Dru like a small metal egg.
Together, the strange assemblage moved down the gangplank and to the docks. Di'Fier glanced around and realized that the crowd has backed away, and he and Dru were alone.
The creature lifted the egg to its lips and murmured into it, then extended it towards Dru. A whispery voice came from the egg. "
Your swordsman is fine specimen. What is his price?"
Dru glanced over at Di'Fier.
Hmm... she pondered briefly, then shook her head. "I'm sorry, he...is not for sale. He's a free man."
The blue-skinned creature listened to the thready sounds emanating from the metal egg, and its lips pulled back to reveal tiny, needle-sharp teeth. "
My apologies," the egg said. "
I hope I did not offend."
Di'Fier shook his head, bemused. "No, it's all right. But..." he hesitated, then plunged ahead. "Why have you come here?"
The blue creature reached into the folds of its robe and with great solemnity pulled forth a piece of paper. It was crumpled and travelstained, but the thin fingers smoothed it out as if it were a great proclamation. Dru and Di'Fier craned their necks to look at it.
It was a broadsheet flyer - the same as the hundreds littering the streets of Freeport - and its trading partners on the mainland. It bore a rendition of Milton's Folly, and invited one and all to visit Freeport for the city's bicentennial celebrations...for the christening of the Lighthouse...for Swagfest.
"
We have come," the egg said, "
to trade."