(OOC: Oh crap. That’s not good.
…Well, Eli, if our party runs a little late, you can always get replacement eyes from the Rubberies. :P )
edited by Lamia Lawless on 7/11/2016
edited by Lamia Lawless on 7/11/2016
(( I can set the scene if you guys manage to track him down. Or…
Perhaps Passionario’s player would do the honors. He knows far more about the subject matter than I ))
The hunt begins amid chaos. This is a city in tumult. Those who’ve had favours called in are causing trouble where they may, and many who know little or nothing of the cause of this, but feel the trembling along the spiderweb strands of London life, are taking their chances to act out as well. When one sets a fire, it tends to spread, and the sparks have been cast wide across the city.
Trackers hunt, fierce and inexorable as a pack of marsh-wolves. Others search the city, picking it over like ravens finding carrion. Swift feet ride the Flit-paths, carrying news back and forth. A motley assortment of strange folk roams the streets, so different to each other that authorities would be hard-pressed to conclude that they’re working together. After all, what unites devils, rats, scholars, beggars, urchins, and so many others? They cannot be a team, surely.
And yet… they are, and the teeth of the pack draw close, sharp and hungry, upon the trail.
Is it good or ill, the fortune that sees certain neddy men swept up, offered threats and bribes and sheer silvertongued charm to give information? They were there. They know things. They will share, one way or another.
And all the while, a marsh-wolf follows trails of spores. The search continues.
While some of the neddy men are smart or cunning enough to lay low or disappear after the massacre at the Gallery, many more are not. For every Constable who is ‘assigned to an extended special mission’ and every zailor leaving for Port Carnelian, there’s another who continues to go on with his or her life as usual. Getting them to talk does not prove to be all that difficult, either. More than enough of them are all too willing to spill their tales to a drinking partner, a companion of negotiable affection or just someone with echoes to spare.
The unexpected complication comes from those who are willing to talk, but who clearly were not present at the scene. Times, places, circumstances - they’re all wrong. At first, you suspect that these people might be either foolhardy con artists or false leads, planted by Passionario to sabotage any would-be investigators into his affairs. However, it soon becomes clear that the situation is more disturbing. Their stories are also true, they merely refer to different events. Dozens of different events, if not hundreds. Eli was not the first one to disappear down a black sack, and if the Fist is not stopped, he will not be the last one.
One pattern is clear, though. None of the neddies knows where the victims ultimately go. After the beatings, the sacks were always handed off to Passionario’s lieutenants: a trio of hard-eyed Ministry officials in drab grey suits and not a single soul between them. Finding these Ruthless Assistants and making them talk would be a far more difficult task, but short of confronting Passionario himself, they seem to be your best shot at finding Eli.
From the first time Eglantine hears the stories to the last, the anger in them grows. This has to end. But there will be plans within plans, here, with so many cunning hunters on the trail.
They are spread out, but they are united. One by one, an urchin, a thief or the Imp comes to each, to invite them to share their plans - to meet if they wish, or else convey the message through these proxies, and continue the hunt as they see fit meanwhile.
Eglantine themself has spun a plan, in the interim: they have offered glim and jade and amber to the urchins, a prize for the first to locate the Ruthless Assistants and bring back that knowledge - but only if the men are not alerted. Gossip could cost them a fortune. The thought of that fortune will stir urchins to action - the thought of its conditions will keep that action discreet, even beyond the discretion of fear at such terrible men.
((Consider the arrival of urchins and so on your getting a share of the news, and an invitation to either meet back up or share your ideas via those messengers? Also a chance to say what you’re doing etc when the messengers turn up.))
edited by Eglantine-Fox on 7/11/2016
[quote=The Absurd Rogue](( I can set the scene if you guys manage to track him down. Or…
Perhaps Passionario’s player would do the honors. He knows far more about the subject matter than I ))[/quote]
(( With all due respect, I’d rather not. Explicit horror has never been not one of my strong suits, and if you decide to follow my suggestion as to where Eli is (and why Passionario put him there), then there will be no way to avoid it. The slaughter in the Basalt Gallery was already one of the hardest scenes I’ve ever had to write; there’s only so far I’m prepared to go down that path. ))
[quote=Vavakx Nonexus]The Euphemian Game-Carver, seeing that the group has latched on to other matters, walks up to the bar with an order. The drink is gone in a handful of gulps. A tip of 14 Echoes on the counter. Doubt in the eyes.
"Bartender, tell me something. Who hired you? I doubt it’s Elias, you’d be out and around already. He can’t pay you from prison. Neither he can check whether you’re here. Why stay, then?"
A beat. Fingers on glass. 6 letters. A cipher? Italian, it seems. Never was on the easy side, that one. Starts with V. A haven of traitors.[/quote]
Illyria stares at them. "Subcontractor. Triple Orpheus. Why stay? Tips."
She smiles. "One more reason. You have very bad taste in drinks. I should educate you. On the house." She pours a glass of sparkling mushroom wine, then sprinkle something into the glass in full view of Vavakx.
[OoC: Noted and corrected.]
edited by Koh Kai Ying on 7/11/2016
[quote=Koh Kai Ying]
Illyria stares at him. "Subcontractor. Triple Orpheus. Why stay? Tips."
She smiles. "One more reason. You have very bad taste in drinks. I should educate you. On the house." She pours a glass of sparkling mushroom wine, then sprinkle something into the glass in full view of Vavakx.[/quote]
[ooc: Them, not him.]
*Flesh-Stick, Maria and the rest of the hunters set off following the trail. The yellow paint is easy to follow at first, but dwindles away the further they get from the Basalt Gallery as if the paint were running out inside whatever vessel was transporting it. Thankfully, Maria’s marsh wolf has managed to pick up the traces of Ezekiel’s spores and fills in the gaps in the trail. It’s slow going, but the group is patient and determined. They’re hunting something precious, after all.
Finally, they reach the trail’s end…
OOC: I’ll need The Absurd Rogue or Passionario to tell us where the trail led our plucky band of searchers. Write a little scene or something ;)
[quote=Koh Kai Ying][quote=Vavakx Nonexus]The Euphemian Game-Carver, seeing that the group has latched on to other matters, walks up to the bar with an order. The drink is gone in a handful of gulps. A tip of 14 Echoes on the counter. Doubt in the eyes.
"Bartender, tell me something. Who hired you? I doubt it’s Elias, you’d be out and around already. He can’t pay you from prison. Neither he can check whether you’re here. Why stay, then?"
A beat. Fingers on glass. 6 letters. A cipher? Italian, it seems. Never was on the easy side, that one. Starts with V. A haven of traitors.[/quote]
Illyria stares at him. "Subcontractor. Triple Orpheus. Why stay? Tips."
She smiles. "One more reason. You have very bad taste in drinks. I should educate you. On the house." She pours a glass of sparkling mushroom wine, then sprinkle something into the glass in full view of Vavakx.[/quote]
"Thank you, but the house can keep it’s drinks. I would like to still be sober for the end of this, and bars don’t give away any of the good ones for free anyways. Enjoy the tip."
They return to the eager Correspondents, already sifting through tomes in search of solutions. Managing a flock of radical academics has never been an easy task, and the shackles of urgency do not help with that. Internal power struggles, incompatible sigils and a seemingly innocent lark with Primordial Shrieks and paint. Resources are low. Sanity is lower. Eyebrows are nonexistent.
Someone barges in. A paper hits the table. The Circumspect Bachelor. "I didn’t think ya one of THEM, yet I find THIS on the street! THIS!" She points at the scalded leaflet, showcasing a fake proclamation from the Game-Carver about Passionario’s varied sins and how he (along with the masters) should be killed. "What’s your explanation, citizen?! Why’re ya supporting those bastards!? I’ve thought better of you than THIS!"
She continues to circle the paper in question, but gets quieter with time. It takes at least half an hour to finally prove that, even if they were a revolutionary, they would not be making such daring declarations, and therefore someone else is to blame for this.
Finally, the Game-Carver is ready to join the search. Small lead plaques, seven pots of differing inks, and something the Bachelor refers to as a flash-light that directs Mirrorcaught light, along with 4 thousand other tools hidden around their body. If Elias is, indeed, hidden in the Bazaar, these marvels of science will help save them.
Bertrand whispers in a low voice “Have we got the er, Chiropteran Irritation materials?”
OOC: I don’t know which group Bertrand went with, but Fleshy and Siobhan both brought their Half-Wild Mandrakes for that purpose.
Fleshy is risking his only with the greatest of reluctance, since it was a "gift" from the Scarred Naturalist. But Eli is worth it.
edited by Kukapetal on 7/11/2016
((He’s going with the tracking group))
"Anyone joining me in murdering the fist once this is over? I think being cut up in tiny little pieces, put in acid and sent to the surface should suffice after being shot?"
Maria only has what she leaves with everyday. A notebook, a pen, a knife in her shoe and a gun. She is probably the worst outfitted
((Changing where Eli is held considering I don’t know much about the Gardens.))
The trail so very clearly leads to Wolfstack Docks. More specifically, the dirigibles. They’ve taken him to New Newgate, bastioned him into the stalactite like marrow inside a bone. He is not merely a prisoner, he is something to be left there and forgotten. Deep in the very tip of the stalactite, he waits in the oubliette.
Bertrand scurries away for several minutes. He returns with a pocket knife, a gladstone bag, and a camera.
Maria burst into curses "We are in hell. We will end up there. Now… anybody has a plan how to hit the stalactite and run off with eli without being placed next to him?"
Eglantine hardly seems to have been in one place for longer than a minute, until meeting up with the others to hear the news. They frown, confused. “It can’t be that simple, surely. Why all the secrecy, to take people there? The Fist could do that openly.”
A leaflet falls on Zoe’s head. Another falls in her cart, and already people are talking. The leaflets are an unusual sight, with these very specific threats. Whoever this "Vavakx" is, they just made big, direct threats against the reviled, but very much feared Passionario.
A pair of hawkers selling jugged lizards take the leaflet from Zoe.
"Bleedin’ 'eart, they must 'ave balls of brass. I 'ope they don’t cop caught."
"’oo cares about them, they better do a number on the bloody villain."
"Blimey! It is time Passionario cop some fright. Let’s spread da gossip at lunch! Right!"
"You in, Zoe?"
Zoe looks away from the paint trail. She isn’t going to be of use following that anyway.
"Yes! We should fink of sumfink ter sing!"
She joins her friends and go for the taverns. Doubt Street Scullery, possibly.
"What if it is that simple?" Siobhan asks.
"…Candles, then. And nuns." Eglantine is smiling again, suddenly. "Nuns, or folk dressed as them, rather. Nuns who are acting on their religious duties for charity, by bringing food for prisoners, and extra candles to light the way back to virtue for poor imprisoned sinners." Their grin widens, and they point at Ezekiel. "You can be hidden in a sufficiently large crate of candles. That gets you in, so you can get to him, protect him, help him break out. Our nuns feed people, and bring helpful little comforts… like tinctures." Their grin dips, fades. "Because Eli’s going to need the healing, to make it out."
edited by Eglantine-Fox on 7/11/2016