[center][h3][u][color=#cbc66d] Roslyn Wicke [/color][/u][/h3][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vzhDyH3.png[/img][/center][center][color=#cbc66d]"I'm thinking it's better to split up and cover more ground."[/color][/center][h1][center]The Riddle of Lindenholdt Part 2 [/center][/h1][center][sub]Date and Time: Zale 31st, Morning to Afternoon...ish Location: Lindenholdt, Kerremand [/sub][/center][h2]The Archives[/h2][hider=*] The sun was little more than a vague blueness upon the horizon and Ipte had not yet given way to Shune. The girl's eyes flickered open. Large and hazel, they blinked a couple of times, and a hand reached up to rub the sleep from them: an impossible task at such an hour. She sat up and struggled for her balance for a moment, those same hands catching her. Three chests rose and fell around her. A rhythm of three people's breaths was all the noise that could be heard, save for the creaking of the girl's bed. Wary of waking the others, the girl did not call upon the Gift, as she usually might've. It took her a minute to extract herself from the blankets tangled around her legs and, with a final flex of powerful arms and a heave-to, she swung herself into the wheelchair that had waited patiently by her bedside for the day's activity. Quietly, she settled her feet onto its footrest and adjusted her nightgown. Her brakes snapped open with an unavoidable 'click', and she rolled carefully out of the room, quiet as a ghost. Lindenholdt spread itself before her: still, cold, and dark. A handful of lights twinkled in the night. A snowy wind whistled across bare fields and tree branches. The girl closed her eyes and stretched her senses out, stifling a yawn as she began. The organ, at this hour, was silent, but they had been busy in the crypt, she could sense: moving things to a ship waiting on the river. Next, the tethered turned her senses to the town, and its slumbering denizens. The first couple of carts were already at the square, to be certain, and the town's night watch was still about. The important bit was the archives. She checked the careful chemical triggers she had left on the door and some of the records. All lay undisturbed. [color=598527][i]Looks like we can trust you after all,[/i][/color] she remarked at Sybille Lorenz in her head. Marceline took another hour to get ready; Victenday was the one day where she went through her entire routine without the assistance of magic, for the sake of her tenuous health and simply knowing how to do it, in case. The first rays of sun were reaching somnambulant arms across the townscape when she patted Roslyn on the shoulder. It was time to get up. She had made a promise to a pair of children, after all. Roslyn had slept against a corner and curled into a ball. At Marceline's touch, she twitched and stirred. Her arm pushed her upright as she hovered in place. Then she stretched her arms mightily over her head with a heavy, unbridled yawn. [color=#cbc66d]"Bore i gyd yn barod (Morning all ready)?"[/color] She spoke in Hendlish wiping the grit from her eyes. She pulled the remains of her braid across her shoulder to the front and picked out the broken tie. [color=#cbc66d]" O'r fath drafferth eu rhoi yn ôl at ei gilydd pan fydd hyn yn digwydd. (Such a hassle putting them back together when this happens.)"[/color] Realizing she needed more help, she stretched out to the right and dug into her bag. She pulled a horse hair brush then forcefully ran it through a few times. Her eyes noted Marceline nearby. [color=#cbc66d]"Apologies, I'm not my best self when I wake up."[/color] Satisfied with her hair, she braided it tightly then retied it back up. She got to her feet and tiptoed around the other sleeping girls to get ready for the day. It took her about half an hour as she emerged, casually checking her coin purse. Her voice avoided the tiresome tone. [color=#cbc66d]"I'm ready now."[/color] Xiuyang awoke, surprised to have slept at all. She'd prayed that at some point the noise would stop, and with how quiet it was now, it must have, but she could not remember when. The warmth of the inferno blanket felt like a heavy weight holding her body in place. [color=slateblue]"Five minutes,"[/color] she groaned, not wanting to move. It was hard to tell if she was awake or not, but sure enough, in five minutes, when Marci returned, she stirred—stretching just about every part of her body, and taking up a whole bed's worth of space. One had to wonder just how long it would take the girl to get ready, when nearly all of her was wrapped in bandages as if she were allergic to the sun, but she was remarkably quick. She tied up most of her hair in a bun, leaving a pair of side locks. [color=slateblue]"What'd I miss..?"[/color] she yawned, taking a sip of something hot. The inn's common hall was less than half-full, many still sleeping as the sun cleared the horizon and began its daily ascent behind a veil of clouds. [color=#598526]"Well, for one, as I was telling Rose,"[/color] Marci remarked, voice barely north of a whisper, [color=#598526]"Sibylle didn't disturb any of the chem trackers I put in the archives."[/color] She shrugged. [color=#598526]"Take it as you will, but I think she can be trusted - at least with this. Second..."[/color] She glanced over at the Hendlishwoman. [color=#598526]"...One of us made a promise to a group of kinder. We should probably keep it."[/color] Marceline turned on the spot, plate on her lap, licking bacon grease off of her fingers in a most unladylike fashion. [color=#598526]"Do that first and be there after opening for the archives, or do it when we want a break from research?"[/color] Presently, she pushed over to the table, set her plate on it, and traded it for a cup of coffee, which she eagerly drained. She had a second at the ready. Ingrid had been rising as Xiuyang had left the room, and she, Johann, and Marco were making their way over now. There was the risk of getting pulled into a long conversation if they were not careful. Roslyn followed the two out of the room into the hall as she listened to Marceline. She chose not to reponse to the first statement, and simply hoped for the best. If Sybille was untrustworthy, she doubted they would get far in this mystery. Not without causing trouble. She grabbed a bit of bread and a pint of beer along the way. Both disappeared in moments, the back of her hand wiping her mouth. [color=#cbc66d]"I want to say the children first, but I think it might be better done as a break. I want to visit a bit and make sure they get to enjoy their gifts."[/color] Her hand set the mug and plate on a counter before she adjusted the corded bracelet on her wrist. Xiuyang inhaled the steam from her hot cup. [color=slateblue]"It wasn't her I was worried about, but I'm glad that you thought ahead and they weren't disturbed in any case."[/color] She took a seat and had a slice of bread with almost too much butter, if such an accusation could be leveled. [color=slateblue]"I agree we should get our business done first. Then we can enjoy the rest of the daylight if there are no urgent leads."[/color] Still, she acted as if there were none already, perhaps still wary that the tavern's regulars were watchmen. Marceline made vaguely committal acknowledgements before Johann proceeded to start wolfing down his breakfast and hurling ideas at her in tandem. She found him tiresome. She could not pinpoint quite why, but she did and that was all that there was to it. Then, the group headed to the crypt had made their choice and she spared a brief hello for the other group headed - hopefully - for a meeting with Liesl Frickmayer. Marceline rolled her eyes and neck simultaneously in a grand gesture of teenage impatience. Her fingers drummed on her rims. [color=#598526]"So, can we like, go now?"[/color] she whined loudly. [color=#598526]"We're in this town to shop, right?"[/color] Petulant eyes found the others. [color=#598526]"So let's maybe... [i]shop[/i]?"[/color] [color=slateblue]"I was only waiting for you to rush out the door without me like usual,"[/color] Xiuyang fired back as she finished off her drink. [color=slateblue]"Or are you waiting for me to get up and push?"[/color] She stuck her tongue out, stacking three more slices of bread in her hand. [color=#cbc66d]"I said everything I needed to say. Enough talking and start walking. In Marci's case, rolling."[/color] Roslyn was already starting out the door. With a little, [color=#598526]"Eep! No!"[/color] Marceline was gone faster than you could say her name. She twisted on the spot as she eased out the door to give Roslyn a little hiss. It was moments before all three had bustled out of the door and were out on the street. Trees rose in front of townhouses, branches bare or, in the case of evergreens, festooned with simple decorations made by children. Coasting along at a good clip, Marci reached down to scoop up some snow, only to find that it was not the right sort for a snowball. The air was cold and sharp and the street busy, even at this early hour. Ahead loomed the Weberplatz, with is plethora of vendors, shoppes, scents, and sounds. It was at about that moment that the street transitioned from hard-packed dirt, blessedly frozen, to cobble, and Marceline's smooth and easy progress came to an abrupt and definitive halt. She lurched forward, nearly spilling out of her wheelchair. [color=#598526]"So, you know how I hissed at you about pushing?"[/color] She addressed Roslyn in a sweet voice. [color=#598526]"I take that back, ol' buddy ol' pal."[/color] She got a ride the rest of the way into the square, so as not to tire her manas, of course. The Weberplatz was a hive of activity, with many of the same sights as the day before. As they made their way across its northern edge, the three girls noticed: A butcher selling fresh venison as well as pineapple pork: a rare treat for a place like this at this time of year. There was a sign that Xiuyang knew meant 'Halal'. Apparently, there were Darhannics who either lived or passed through here. There appeared to be people tap dancing inside the very busy cobbler's again. However, one young woman stood off to the side with an uncomfortable expression. A preacher stood on one of the street corners, atop a soapbox and speaking in a fiery tone about the sins of this town and the devils in the woods and the fires of Marhazannet to come. One of the bakeries was having a final sale before the holidays. There were Brandaeble fritters among their offerings. The apothecary shop had some very rare and expensive items, especially for a mere large provincial town. An old woman was selling vegetables hand-grown in her garden. She was drinking beer and smoking like a chimney as she counted her money. A cheesery was also selling large flasks of eggnog. There appeared to be a very jolly eeaiko man behind the counter. A young man with no legs was painting simple portraits of people for pocket change beneath the large Caldores Tree. There was a furniture shop that appeared to be closed, but some burly men where going in and out with large pallets and there was a wagon out back. Beyond the shops, there were also many people of interest: A couple of old women were watching the group of interlopers quite intently, particularly the tethered and the Retanese. Two men seemed to have gotten into an argument over something and a crowd had gathered where they shouted at each other. There was a small pig loose on the other side of the market and a boy and girl with bright red hair were chasing it. Hans Grunewald was huffing and puffing as he hustled to his office in the dyer's guild. There was a big sucky-looking boy sitting close to a burly woman selling firewood with a scowl and crossed arms. Three preteen and young teen boys were running away from Bastian, who seemed to be chasing them. At the far end of the square, about a dozen miners were heading for their morning shift outside of town. Some were grabbing warm drinks and snacks. Two well-dressed men and a woman were sitting close to the cider stand conversing in very... technical Revidian. A very tall woman - perhaps even taller than Ingrid - dressed in bright clothing, was juggling for a group of children. [color=slateblue]"Oh, you just don't like it when [i]*I*[/i] push. I see how deep our friendship goes,"[/color] Xiuyang lamented, acting wounded, her tone playful. Her merchant's eyes scanned the shops, taking note of some of the unusual signage and out-of-season products on offer. She'd noticed it before, but someone clearly had ambitions of turning this place into some kind of metropolis in future, with the Quentic stronghold of the Dom ostensibly as its centrepiece. [color=slateblue]"Devils in the woods? How frightening,"[/color] she remarked, in a very un-Xiuyang-like tone. [color=slateblue]"I'd love some Brandaeble fritters and eggnog right about now, wouldn't you?"[/color] she said, abruptly leaving the two girls to stand in line, more or less—an ear subtly inclined to the preacher, whose attempts to convince anyone of any anything of any complexity likely fell on deaf or uncomprehending Kerremand ears. Perhaps, if his frustrations resulted in him leaving the stage soon, he'd settle for one pair of attentive ears. [color=#cbc66d]"To be fair, I've had a bit of practice pushing a wheelchair before."[/color] Roslyn countered, still wheeling Marceline along. She was mindful of the dips in the path and made efforts to avoid them. Catching Xiuyang's mention of devils, her eyes darted to her friend's direction. She studied her friend's expression before she left them to go standing in line. [color=#cbc66d]"Seems like something else got her attention. Speaking of devils... that reminds me of something."[/color] Her gaze tilted down to Marci. [color=#cbc66d]"Umm, do you remember that sword you pulled from that stone?"[/color] There were a good few others in line for the fritters and it would take some time to reach the front. That gave Xiuyang the opportunity to listen. The issue was that the man's words were almost entirely in Kerreman, save for the odd phrase in Avincian - mostly menanic quotes. It seemed, for now, a fool's errand. Meanwhile, Roslyn had brought up a topic of personal interest to Marceline as they decided where they should go. The tethered considered for a moment. [color=#598526]"Hard to forget it,"[/color] she replied, with a fond shake of her head. [color=#598526]"Zaz and I must've practiced for days on end."[/color] She sighed as the line moved, and took a push forward. [color=#598526]"I've never felt so... just perfectly in sync with someone, you know?"[/color] She tilted her head to the side. [color=#598526]"Why do you ask?"[/color] [color=#cbc66d]"Yeah, it was amazing and creepy at the same time. I helped out a bit. "[/color] She noticed Xiuyang trying to listen to the priest, who spoke mainly in the native tongue. He seemed to repeat the same thing over and over again. [color=#cbc66d]"There was a moment after you two began to meditate that you both spoke to me. The words were directed at me and I was thinking it was either my imagination or something... else."[/color] Marceline's voice lowered, and she twisted to glance over her shoulder. Then, she shrugged. [color=#598526]"To be honest,"[/color] she admitted, [color=#598526]"I haven't said anything because [i]I[/i] thought I was imagining it."[/color] The Kerreman blushed slightly. [color=#598526]"It was as if the words didn't come from me, though I remember speaking them. I assumed it was some sort of spell."[/color] Xiuyang listened with keen interest, both to her friends and the angry preacher, but she wasn't getting anywhere with the latter. He was, however, dutifully repeating himself, so she leaned in to interrupt the two. [color=slateblue]"Marci. What is this [i]*predicatore infernale*[/i] rambling on about? Does he get more specific about what's in the woods or what sins the town is being hounded for?"[/color] [color=#cbc66d]"I didn't think you were the religious type, Xiuyang. "[/color] Roslyn commented upon hearing Xiuyang's request of Marci. [color=slateblue]"I am now,"[/color] she replied back with a mischievous grin. Did it have more meaning than she let on? That was when Marceline rolled up beside her. [color=#598526]"Takin' in the beauty of the Kerreman language?"[/color] she chirped teasingly. The younger girl shrugged. [color=#598526]"To be honest, I just wanted to give you a chance to have the honour of pushing me."[/color] She couldn't quite smother her smirk. [color=#598526]"And maybe pick up a few fritters."[/color] She furrowed her brow. [color=#598526]"I think we used to cook them back at home in Meckelin-Thandau."[/color] She shook her head. [color=#598526]"I don't remember ever eating one, but I feel like I know the taste of them."[/color] As she spoke, however, she translated in pinch language. It was nearly 5:00 Shune, when the archives would be opening for the last time before the holidays, but they would have enough time for some more snooping first. [color=#598526][/color] He raised his voice and pointed to the ground emphatically as the three girls moved up nearly to the front of the queue. [color=#598526][/color] Marci translated, [color=#598526][/color] he shouted, [color=#598526][/color] It occurred to her that she'd might as well translate for Roslyn as well, but then they were at the front of the line and the three of them could always share later. Roslyn seemed distracted as she rolled Marceline along. It wasn't until she caught her friend's mention of knowing the taste did her mind focus on the present. [color=#cbc66d]"Thankfully, we get to change that today."[/color] She moved next to the tethered, who translated, and requested three fritters. Once received, she passed one to Xiuyang and two to Marci. [color=#cbc66d]"Since I'm doing the honor of rolling you, you can hold my share of the fitters."[/color] With that she led them off to the side. [color=#cbc66d]"Next stop, the eggnog?"[/color] [color=slateblue]"Only that he, like most preachers, believes he speaks a truth no one in this town wants to hear,"[/color] Xiuyang said as she took a bite of her Brandaeble fritter, trying to make her comment sound more inane than meaningful. [color=slateblue]"And that's twice now that the notion of the treeline and the river being dangerous has been brought up. We'd better stay in town, where big, strong men can see us,"[/color] she quipped sardonically. At the notion of checking out the furniture shop—which appeared to be closed, she noted—she looked at Marci, a bit surprised. [color=slateblue]"I didn't take you for an appreciator of fine woodwork, Marci,"[/color] she teased. [color=slateblue]"But the butcher's sounds fun!"[/color] she pinched back. [color=#598526]"Delicate little flowers like us might get stepped on out there,"[/color] Marceline agreed, [color=#598526]"but not Rose. Every Rose has a thorn, after all."[/color] With that, she offered Roslyn's fritter to the girl and began snacking on her own between pushes, only giving up and letting the Hendlishwoman push her once she'd finished her snack. [color=#598526][/color] Marci told the others silently. [color=#598526][/color] [color=#598526]"Whoa, ladies,"[/color] Marci teased. [color=#598526]"Fritters, eggnog, prime cuts? We fattening up for the holidays or something?"[/color] She pinched her midsection and puffed out her cheeks to appear 'fat'. [color=#cbc66d]"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I go looking for trouble. It just happens to find me. "[/color] Roslyn said as she reached for her snack. The treat was sweet and warm, perfect for the cold season. At Marci's teasing about weight, she stuck out her tongue. [color=#cbc66d]"Even a mouse needs to fatten up for the winter season."[/color] Her eyes turned to the furniture shop. She recalled it was open yesterday, but didn't know how well it had done. [color=#cbc66d]" I recall that shop was open yesterday. I didn't stop by myself, but I'm starting to notice something. This town has a few consistencies. Like those two voices shouting at each other. Second time they have been at it."[/color] [color=slateblue]"In all seriousness, it would be just our luck if the preacher turned out to be right and we ended up fighting a demon by the end of this. I hope he's wrong."[/color] She made the sign of the Pentad superstitiously, and it was hard to tell if she was joking or not. She huffed at the accusation of fattening up, but it wasn't as if she could joke about eating for two. [color=slateblue]"Alright, alright. Prime cuts or egg nog, pick one for now. We should be on time and make a good impression, to balance out whatever those angry-looking ladies might be saying about us,"[/color] Xiuyang replied, stealing a glance at the pair, not particularly caring if they overheard her. [color=#cbc66d]"I've had enough demonic encounters to last me a lifetime. Two is enough for me."[/color] Roslyn shuddered at the memory of both Belthagor and the wailing leviathan. [color=#cbc66d]" I vote the eggnod. We can down it along the way and won't smell up the archives."[/color] [color=slateblue]"Gracious, Rose. Do you intend to buy in bulk?"[/color] she teased hypocritically. [color=slateblue]"...Wait, two?"[/color] she realized suddenly. Marceline arched an eyebrow. [color=#598526]"Oh, I have no interest in the meat,"[/color] she admitted, [color=#598526]"Though it's probably to die for."[/color] She shrugged, taking control of her wheels back again for the umpteenth time so she could turn a bit. [color=#598526]"I just think it's a mystery and could mean something, but..."[/color] she pondered aloud, [color=#598526]"I'm probably reaching."[/color] Marceline glanced over at the old ladies and stuck out her tongue, utterly brazen with the gesture. [color=slateblue]"Ah, you want to know how they got their hands on it? I'm curious too, but I doubt they'd reveal their secret on the cheap,"[/color] Xiuyang replied, before Marci stuck her tongue out at the old hags. [color=slateblue]"[i]*Marci!*[/i]"[/color] she scolded in a hushed whisper, only somewhat convincingly from a distance as she covered her mouth in that ladylike way, concealing her impish grin. [color=#cbc66d]"Yeah. I don't know if I happen to be unlucky or something... "[/color] Roslyn shrugged. [color=#cbc66d]"I'll give you the details later."[/color] She released her grip of the handles when Marci took back her wheelchair. Finishing the last of her treat, she fought not to choke as she chuckled at the catness of her friends. [color=#cbc66d]" I will say, we can come back here during our break before heading to the Zimmerman house. We did decide to take a break between research."[/color] [color=#598526]"Alte, schrumpelige Rosinen ..."[/color] the tethered muttered under her breath. [color=#598526]"Was guckst du dir an!?"[/color] she hissed, a bit louder, but still quietly enough that they wouldn't hear it. She rolled her eyes. [color=#598526]"They were talking about the 'Cripple' and the 'Squinty-eye'."[/color] Marci shook her head and glanced up at her two friends. [color=#598526]"If I ever get that old, kill me, okay?"[/color] With that, she turned on the spot. [color=#598526]"Y'all want eggnog that badly, huh?"[/color] She shook her head and threw her hands up in surrender. [color=#598526]"Then, eggnog ye shall have."[/color] She turned on the spot and made for the cheesery. In the background, the miners finished up, the woodcutter tried to reason with the boy during a gap between customers, and the wagon that had been behind the furniture shop clattered away in the direction of the river and the docks. The lineup was not especially long at this time of day - some veneer of respectability had to be kept regarding alcoholic drinks - and they were quickly inside of the dairy emporium. There were a dozen different cheeses, both local and imported from Perrence, Eskand, Crisia, Feska, and Revidia. A couple of swarthy-looking men were poking around the last of those. There were yogurts, creams, and a handful of large cans with different local milks. Chicken, puffchicken, quail, turkey, and grouse eggs waited in crates, along with Brandtudse eggs. Then there was, of course, the eggnog, in five varieties. [color=#598526]"This place is just about a real city,"[/color] Marci murmured, in Avincian for the others' benefit. Xiuyang amused herself by squinting in an exaggerated way at the old ladies, as if she were really having just as much trouble seeing them as they probably did seeing her. Truthfully, there was no spiteful intent behind it. She would prefer that they laughed, and smile if they did—and shrug if they didn't. She had a look at the selection of nog. A Rettanese who liked dairy products was a rare sight indeed, and would have given her away as a girl of mixed descent if her clothes didn't already. [color=slateblue]"Yes. Someone in charge of its planning is certainly ambitious,"[/color] she noted out loud innocently, but by now the girls knew she was thinking more deeply about it than her tone suggested. Likely, the bigger money interests were hoping for a swift completion of the Dom rather than opposing it. She wondered if there might be Darhannic interests here against the construction, but there was no evidence of anything other than the suggestion of a presence of a Virangish customer base large enough to warrant a sign—either now or, ambitiously, in the future. [color=slateblue]"I'll have something not too strong, for appearance's sake,"[/color] she remarked with a shrug. When her turn in line came, she would point to something of that nature and hold up three fingers. [color=slateblue][i]*And say "Danke" in a thick Rettanese accent, why the hell not?*[/i][/color] [color=#598526]"I agree,"[/color] replied Marci, as she tried to catch a bit of what the Revidians were saying and only got an innocuous 'store', 'late', and 'Kerremans' out of it. [color=#598526]"Has to be related to the cathedral, right?"[/color] In any case, both had soon ordered - Marceline took something a bit stronger so as not to shame her Kerreman heritage - and were about ready to leave. The man behind the counter turned out to be from Akrihar which, to be fair, bordered Kerremand to the direct north, in Dami's Eye. Outside, the arguing men had stopped arguing, the children had caught the pig, and Bastian was hauling one little scamp, by the collar, towards the Constable's office. The hour was just about to strike and they were still not quite at the town archives. [color=#cbc66d][i]Definitely flourishing, that's for sure.[/i][/color] She agreed with Marci's earlier statement. Her eyes took in the scene. There was an obvious money flow coming from somewhere. It got her thinking harder. She suspected the source might be due to the Revidians smuggling weapons out. A flourishing town made it easier, but then there were the disappearances. They drew too much attention and risked trouble. So what happened there? She hoped the archives might help shed some light on that. Roslyn was last to make her order and followed the other two out. Noticing the time, she realized they weren't anywhere close to the archives. [color=#cbc66d]"We should get moving if we want a chance to arrive at the archives on time. "[/color] Xiuyang took a long gulp of the nog, savoring it but lowering the liquid's level enough for what she was about to do. [color=slateblue]"So then, it's time to review your wheeling skills,"[/color] Xiuyang replied, keeping up her Rettanese accent. [color=slateblue]"You race me now, grasshoppa!"[/color] She took off running. They arrived a moment later on a side street just outside of the archives. Sibylle was walking to the front door to unlock it from the inside. [color=#598526]"Don't look hurried,"[/color] Marceline advised the others, pulling on a bit of the Gift to see her over those damned cobblestones. [color=#598526]"Bureaucrats can smell weakness."[/color] They reached the door just as the archivist did. She pushed it open with a smile. [color=#FFEBCD]"Oh, why hallo!"[/color] They could see, set out on one of the large tables inside, a series of folders, documents, and a wooden case full of scrolls - some [i]very[/i] old. [color=#FFEBCD]"Your punctuality warms my frosty little heart,"[/color] Sibylle joked. [color=#FFEBCD]"Now, do come in."[/color] She gestured them toward the table, where four chairs waited. [color=#FFEBCD]"I've taken the liberty of setting your materials out and pulling some others that might interest you as well."[/color] She bowed her head slightly. [color=#FFEBCD]"I hope this is okay."[/color] Roslyn hastily wiped away her eggnog mustache as she kept close to the others. She smiled at her cousin's tease as they stepped into the archives. It looked much better in the day than at night, she noted. [color=#cbc66d]"Thank you, Sibylle. I greatly appreciate it. We can use all the help we can get."[/color] Xiuyang giggled. Whether she took Marci's comment about bureaucrats seriously was anyone's guess. [color=slateblue]"Salomé Solari, Tan-Zeno of Ersand'Enise,"[/color] she introduced herself professionally with a smile, a bow, and the sign of Oraff. [color=slateblue]"Thank you for your hard work. If I may trouble you for one more thing we learned at the last minute last night, I'm curious to learn anything I can about any other incidents that refer to a so-called 'Frickmayer curse.' Other unsolved cases, reports of tall tales and the like. Statements made by clergy to local authorities, perhaps?"[/color] she added hopefully. They had, before them, four separate sets of files: Firstly, in a series of three stacks, came birth and death records along with a complete genealogy of the House of Frickmayer. Some were very old and had been rebound multiple times. Marriage records, accounts, and dowries of the House of Frickmayer came next, in a similarly ancient and extensive fashion. There were compendiums of the folklore of the Althern Valley, Lindenholdt, and the Black Forest region. It seemed that Xiuyang's query had already been pre-emptively answered. A neat stack of modern carefully-bound records of the cathedral's construction and payment was present as well, with ribbons to mark separate sections within. Finally, there came the personal family records of the Frickmayer crypt, as well as those from the church, and a handful of rolled-up maps. Sitting beside these, separate but included, were investigative reports on the burning of the Frickmayer estate, insurance papers, and - oddly enough - records from an orphanage. There were four cups of water along with a loaf of bread on the table. All that there was to do now, was begin! Roslyn took a seat as she debated on where to start. She turned to Sibylle, daring to ask a question. [color=#cbc66d]"Sibylle, how much do you know of the Frickmayer curse? "[/color] [color=#FFEBCD]"The Frickmayer Curse?"[/color] Sibylle considered, tapping her finger against her lower lip. [color=#FFEBCD]"Well, it is a silly thing, I think."[/color] She shrugged. [color=#FFEBCD]"In fact, there are two things with that name."[/color] She could see from her distant cousin's face that Roslyn really wanted to know, so she relented and took the matter seriously, as was only professional, after all. [color=#FFEBCD]"The first is a silly old notion: that the Grand Demon Iptacht, before he was defeated by St. Adelheid of Frickmayer, placed a curse on all trueborn descendants of her line, that they would not be harmed so long as they drew breath, but that all would turn to stone upon death, unable to ascend to heaven or fall to hell."[/color] She shook her head and continued. [color=#FFEBCD]"When the Grand Demon returned, he would reanimate them by shining upon them the light of hell's Black Sun and use them as his servants. Over time, this legend morphed and changed and, now, many people believe that the light of the sun falling upon the stone bodies will reawaken them and spell doom for the town." Hence, it is believed that there is not a single body in the crypt as we would understand it and to go down there risks spilling light upon the stone men and reanimating them."[/color] She rolled her eyes. [color=#FFEBCD]"In short, a fanciful tale that continues to evolve, typical of provincial towns such as this one."[/color] As Marceline rolled up to the table and shifted a chair out of the way Sibylle took a seat on one of the remaining three. [color=#FFEBCD]"The other is much simpler: it holds that Iptacht placed a curse upon Lindenholdt when he was defeated, and that the secret to holding it at bay is passed down between generations of Frickmayers, parent to child. Thus, there must always be a Frickmayer to act as guardian of the town, lest the curse be allowed to take effect."[/color] She sighed. [color=#FFEBCD]"But, with their line all but extinct, some say that there is nobody to hold back the curse, and that doom and destruction shall visit Lindenholdt when the last of them passes away."[/color] Sibylle tapped on the table pensively. [color=#FFEBCD]"Some say that Lady Liesl has already died - none would really know the difference - and this is the root of our current troubles. Others hold that, as her powers wane in what must surely be her very final days, evil has already seeped back into the town and will run unchecked once she passes."[/color] She took a sip from one of the cups, claiming it, and shrugged noncommittally. [color=#FFEBCD]"That's what some say, anyhow: old superstitious types. I do not particularly believe it, but who knows for certain."[/color] Her eyes roved about the archives and she prepared to rise. [color=#FFEBCD]"Now, you ask me if you need anything. I need to set some things in order before the holidays, and we'll likely see at least a [i]few[/i] visitors before closing."[/color] Xiuyang remained silent as Sybille spoke, but she turned meaningfully to Marci at the notion that there were no bodies in the crypt, as if to ask her if she [i]*literally*[/i] meant it when she said that she didn't find any. She didn't ask the question out loud, but she didn't need to. [color=slateblue]"The architect did say something along those lines. The curse does anything and nothing depending on who you ask."[/color] She shrugged dispassionately. [color=slateblue]"There should be more than enough here to be equal parts useful and entertaining, I think."[/color] She began to pore through the folklore of Lindenholdt and the Black Forest region, with a particular eye for anything that an old preacher might refer to as "devils." It was possible that the Revidians were using the curse and the crypt as cover for their operations, but the possibility that they were tampering, intentionally or not, with powers beyond their understanding—[i]*hopefully*[/i] beyond their understanding—was also on the table. [color=#cbc66d]"Thank you again."[/color] Roslyn stated as her cousin departed. She didn't know where to start as she had made the request on Marci's behalf so she assumed the tethered had a reason for it. [color=#cbc66d]"Marceline, I'm going to sound like an idiot saying this but... Did you have something specific you want me to look for? You and Xiuyang were at the cathedral."[/color] Marceline lifted her cup to her lips and took a sip to steady herself. She nodded with her eyes. She had assumed that the bodies had simply been moved as part of the construction or something more nefarious, but hearing this story... Was she provincial and superstitious for considering it, even for a few moments? With that, she managed to say a few words of easy noncommittal agreement with Xiuyang's assertion. Roslyn spoke and she tilted her head in response. [color=#598527]"It'd be nice to know about which Frickmayers were alive at the time of the fire, I think..."[/color] She trailed off and craned her neck up to Sibylle, who had just made her way to a nearby shelf. [color=#598527]"Wie viele Jahre ist das her, Sibylle?"[/color] The archivist turned and blinked, thinking for a moment. [color=#FFEBCD]"Oh, fifteen now, I think."[/color] She pointed at the stacks she had placed there pertaining tot he event. [color=#FFEBCD]"All of the exact details are in there, I believe."[/color] Presently, she went back to sorting items on the shelf and Marci went back to her response. [color=#598527]"Yes, so how many Frickmayers were alive at the time, how much they sold the land for, and what their accounts looked like before and after. Then -"[/color] She furrowed her brow. [color=#598527]"Costs of the cathedral's construction."[/color] Xiuyang pored through page after page of poorly translated folklore. Very little of it was of interest to her. She was looking for consistencies in an ocean of odd phenomena that had nothing to do with each other. A part of her told her she was wasting her time. Another fought back with saintly patience, insisting she soldier on. There would be [i]*something*[/i] here that was relevant. If there was not, there was truly no need for students of Ersand'Enise to become involved. She flipped page after page, then, all of a sudden, began flipping back pages, as if something stuck out to her after the fact. [color=slateblue]"Marci, get a load of this one,"[/color] she said, as if she'd found something funny. She brought it up close to her, almost too close. It was an excerpt from an article about some mines out in the Eastern Woods that were allegedly haunted. [color=slateblue]"More underground magnetic activity,"[/color] she said with a whisper. [color=slateblue]"And the owner. Look."[/color] She pointed out the name: Grunewald. [color=slateblue]"No relation to the Grunewald who probably warned us to stay out of whatever's going on at the crypt, I presume."[/color] [color=#cbc66d]"Okay. Easy enough. I'll start with the births and deaths, then move onto the account logs." [/color] Roslyn dug around in her pack for her supplies. After setting her ink bottle on the empty chair's seat, she started on the first tome and scanned the dates. She wrote down each name neatly alongside the birth, date, and notes of additional information. There was no reason to risk damaging a fragile book by opening it more than once. Marceline flinched back reflexively as the pages nearly bonked her in the nose. She blinked and twisted. [color=#598527]"Sibylle, gibt es mehr..."[/color] She trailed off and repeated herself in Avincian. [color=#598527]"Is there more than one Grünewald family in this town?"[/color] The archivist leaned back, head popping out from between a pair of shelves and a strand of hair coming loose as she did so. She furrowed her brow and considered. [color=#FFEBCD]"Hmm... no,"[/color] came the reply, and she nodded slowly as if confirming it in her memory. [color=#FFEBCD]"Every Grünewald in this town is at least distantly related."[/color] She shook her head. [color=#FFEBCD]"They have been dyers, weavers, and merchants forever, and wealthy for just as long. They were richer than the von Mollerns at one point many years ago."[/color] Her head disappeared between the shelves for a moment before poking back out. [color=#FFEBCD]"Why do you ask?"[/color] Marceline glanced at Xiuyang for approval before deciding to continue. [color=#598527]"Did any of them own or were involved with a mine at some point?"[/color] Sybille emerged more fully, now, tapping her chin pensively with a finger. [color=#FFEBCD]"Haureenium,"[/color] she replied simply, [color=#FFEBCD]"Out East of here, there was a quarry."[/color] She took a moment to orient herself before pointing. [color=#FFEBCD]"It was a big deal, until the collapse."[/color] She shook her head sadly. [color=#FFEBCD]"Naturally, the uneducated attribute it to the supernatural, but it was most likely unstable magnetism, given the nature of haureenium, after all."[/color] Roslyn's meticulousness paid dividends. Backtracking a little bit made for some interesting finds. Marceline was, apparently, not-so-distantly related to the Frickmayer line, which made sense for her as a Hohenfelter, Johann shared some history with them as well as a Steinbauer. Roslyn, having reconnected with her distant cousin Sibylle, couldn't resist taking a peek back a few more generations, to see if she had any relation to the storied noble line on her Kerreman side. Sure enough, about one-hundred-fifty years ago, she did. The main reason for it, however, was to provide context, and Roslyn could pretty definitively declare that the Frickmayers were already well into their decline by the time that the fire had ravaged their estate on Jores the 10th, O55. Their marriages were notably less prestigious, with the exception of a lesser Hohenfelter. They had reported enough income to make the Queen's Register for only four of the fifty years prior, compared to twenty from the previous fifty-year period, and forty-four from the one before that. Out of curiosity, she contrasted that with the von Mollerns' fifty, thirty-two, and fourteen over the same three periods. It also appeared that a handful of Frickmayer branches had died out over the decades leading up to the disaster, or else faded into obscurity. However, they were still massively wealthy, mostly based upon their art collections, land holdings, and income derived from peasant rents. If they were old-fashioned and declining, they had still possessed deep coffers to almost the very end. There had been eleven Frickmayers alive at the time, including the then-current head, Adolf, along with his wife Ava, and the families of their two sons, the younger of which included a girl of fourteen named Sarah, and the older, a young seven-ear-old heir named Eike, though the child had been little-seen in public. All had been lost except for a then 77 year old Liesl, who had been visiting with friends in Ostermark. The Hendlishwoman would find, upon looking into the family's accounts and sale of the land, however, that they had made almost nothing from it: merely guarantees of a generous monthly stipend for Liesl from the church and the burgmeister's office, as well as a guarantee that she would be listed as the church's official sponsor, under the words, 'This magnificent house of worship is everything that this town deserves for what it has given the House of Frickmayer. I, as the last of the line, stand determined to repay it with all my heart and soul.' Digging into the costs would reveal a ballooning budget and plenty of hidden expenses, mostly related to the discovery of a much more extensive crypt than had been initially expected. These had been disguised in various ways, but mostly via write-offs from the burg council and, at once, the von Mollern, Frickmayer, and even Grünewald families. Uncharacteristically, for recordkeeping in Kerremand was, generally, an art form, Roslyn found that many of the notes on expenses were shoddy and vague, simply written 'crypt' and 'foundations'. They did manage to confirm Johann Krauss' assertion, at least, that the prior architect, Hartmann, had been fired for 'gross incompetence and negligence leading to bodily harm.' Haureenium. Xiuyang had heard of it a couple times. Was the mine so rich with it that it would cause such a thing even if there was nothing else special about it? If it were common knowledge, why the superstitions? She decided not to ask out loud. Sybille had made her opinion known. She unceremoniously tossed the article back into her pile, frustrated. She still felt that it wasn't quite [i]*nothing,*[/i] but it wasn't enough to be called something, either. She'd only succeeded in giving herself a half-baked reason not to trust the one deputy she'd had some faith in. [color=slateblue][i]*Any family with a name worthy to be remembered is wealthy. Riches alone don't mean anything.*[/i][/color] Xiuyang found herself pacing around the table. She was tired of sitting, and anxiety was creeping in. The students headed to the crypt were reckless, but was she doing any good, here, or just killing time waiting for her countrymen to finish their op and get the fuck out of town so she can work in peace—in the vain hope that they were not involved in the disappearances? Her half-heartedness chose to show itself by making her pace around the room while she continued to read. [color=#cbc66d]"These notes on the expenses are a massive vague mess."[/color]. Roslyn grumbled out loud. Her eyes squinted to find something among the vague crypt and foundation footnotes. Finding herself frustrated, she switched her attention back to the fire. This time she focused on the handful of branches that died out over the decades leading up to the disaster. Then anything that stuck out at her. Maybe there was a pattern here in the chaos. The branches that had died out had either married into obscurity and their records were no longer maintained (though it was quite possible a number of them still thrived), or had been anemic for some time before disappearing. Two had been wiped out in wars against Huulendam, another in an outbreak of the Grey Death, and another in a tragic and sensational crime of passion. There seemed to be no pattern but that they had died out over the centuries, until the once-great noble house, that had stood shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Albesatz and Meckelin, had faded into near-irrelevance. She did pick up on a second pattern, however, though she'd been forced to check it and recheck it again: older Frickmayers' deaths always seemed to coincide with the early childhoods - almost exclusively the fifth year - of their heirs. It wasn't too unusual, to fair: the elderly often passed and there were young to replace them, but it was repeated and distinct, stretching back for centuries. Incidentally, she also found blood ties between the Frickmayers, von Mollerns, Grünewalds, and neighbouring Steinbauers. The fire itself, though. That remained all-but uninvestigated by her hand, and the records of the peasants and their orphans unresolved as well. Roslyn frowned as she finished her third check, [color=#cbc66d]"Okay, found an pattern with the deaths. Older Frickmayers' deaths always seem to happen around the fifth year of their heirs. It wasn't too odd until I noticed it happening distinctly for several centuries back. I think the last generation broke that pattern, but checking again."[/color] The number five was holy in Quentic faith, she recalled and bit her lip. Did that mean something? If not, it at least fed into one of the stories around the family. [color=#cbc66d]"I also found blood ties to the Frickmayers, von Mollerns, Grünewalds, and Steinbauers."[/color] She shifted to the records of the peasants and their orphans before getting to the fire. It felt like the better place to start. Her hand jotted down notes over the number of dead, orphans left alive, and what might've happened to some of them after. She figured talking to a survivor might help if the fire report was too vague. And it was a pure fact that children noticed more than adults sometimes. [color=slateblue]"I saw something to this effect as well,"[/color] Xiuyang cut in, though she continued to read the book in her hands as if what she had to say weren't so interesting. [color=slateblue]"Twenty-five days after the birth of a new Frickmayer heir, someone with connections to the family dies. I only got the superstitious, conspiratory angle of it—that it's done with intent as some kind of ritual. Grisly business."[/color] For a moment, Roslyn looked uncomfortable. The discomfort faded when she pause and took a deep breath. [color=#cbc66d]"Another connection to the holy number of five..."[/color] [i]Almost like there's something unnatural going on here or someone is trying to make it so...[/i] She took a sip from one of the unclaimed glasses. [i]I hope I'm just being paranoid.[/i] Xiuyang, unable to make much of the folklore, though perhaps some might jog her memory later, delved into stories of other people who had called Lindenholdt and the Althern Valley home in the past. She was not too surprised to find that it had always been a cultural crossroads. At various points in history, it had played host to Eskandish, Huulisch, Crisian, and Hendlish populations. The area had been part of the Avincian Empire for a couple of centuries. Eeaiko have ventured upriver to trade. Yasoi had called it home more than once and, before them, the narrative skewed closer to mythology than truth. Tiny people, slight and elusive, no bigger than a child when fully grown, had built homes that faded into the hills and forest. The book referred to them as 'sprites' or 'tricksters' or 'cherune'. They had a long history within the local mythology, apparently: appearing often during times of strife and trouble: storms, floods, blizzards, and fires. In some stories, they were the cause of the catastrophes - harbingers of doom, at the very least - while, in others, they were clever helpers, rescuers and mischievous but wise allies who represented relief. Then, Roslyn spoke and they had discovered a second pattern that loosely matched one of the legends that Xiuyang had read about. Whether it was twenty-five days or five years, there appeared to be an element of sacrifice involved. but what was it for? What could it have meant, and.... could it have been somehow connected to their fall? Xiuyang had read of the cherune once before, but she could not recall where or when. It must have been a long time ago, because at the time she'd dismissed them as a fairy story. These days, she'd be hard pressed to deny the existence of just about anything if it had been recorded by two independent sources, but how did this help their cause? Whether the men were alive or dead, with each day that passed, their odds of being found dropped exponentially. This was only all the more true if the centers of power and wealth in Lindenholdt were complicit and eager to see them leave. [color=slateblue]"Excuse me for a moment,"[/color] Xiuyang said suddenly, taking her leave of the table and making her way behind a bookshelf to pray to Shune for guidance. [color=slateblue][i]*If the Revidians were solely behind it all, they would have done a better job covering their tracks—and if they had failed to cover their tracks, the school would not have sent Revidians to clean up the mess. What am I missing? [b]**Who**[/b] am I missing? No, even beyond that, how do I prove it?*[/i][/color] She changed tactics. Assuming the men hadn't fled the town for want of a better life, and assuming they had not been killed in a run-of-the-mill murder for pocket pittance, the most likely outcome was that they had been killed by a Revidian cleaner or sword-for-hire. They'd stumbled upon a weapon-smuggling operation. [color=slateblue][i]*When they went to the crypt,*[/i][/color] she thought. [color=slateblue][i]*A crypt that houses no dead, and was much bigger than originally thought, which also features underground magnetic activity. The mines...*[/i][/color] Her furrowed brow relaxed slightly. She tried to think—if she were in charge of this weapon-smuggling operation, what would she do? [color=slateblue][i]*Bribe the owners of already-dug mines and disused catacombs to cut costs. Silence is cheaper when there's less labor. For a front of the operation,*[/i][/color] Her eyes turned towards the door. [color=slateblue][i]*Using the crypt of an anemic bloodline with few visitors is in poor taste, but effective. If you're discovered, collapse the tunnel and move everything... to a place that would be of no interest to touring biros of Ersand'Enise. A place only likely to be visited by people who intend to stay in Lindenholdt for a long time, such as... a furniture store?*[/i][/color] She rubbed her temple, frustrated. [color=slateblue][i]*But whatever is going on here, if there are legends and folklore attached to it, must be older than one Revidian smuggling ring. An unholy rite, masquerading as a holy one, with holy numbers, and an esteemed bloodline that slayed the Grand Demon Iptacht... The weapons... what if they're not just being smuggled out, but in, as well?*[/i][/color] She needed to slow down. All she had now were a handful of pieces, and there were many ways they could be arranged such that they made some manner of sense to someone. She returned to the table, feeling like she hadn't made much progress. Yet, her anxiety settled somewhat. [color=slateblue][i]*Ah. Because if my countrymen are involved in something bigger than the war—something truly unholy—then I have a duty to stop them, regardless of my political alignment,*[/i][/color] she realized. She took some papers from Roslyn's notes, poring over them with her merchant's eyes. The Frickmayers, Grunewalds, von Mollerns and Steinbauers all had blood relations? That was almost every significant family she was aware of—and all of them involved in this investigation. [color=slateblue][i]*Johann. He'd said something was strange before, but I never got the chance to ask what it was. Was he the one who gave Marci the warning?*[/i][/color] She would talk to him the next chance she got, but for now, she looked for either correlations or discrepancies in all of the families' finances. Had they grown suspiciously wealthy together? Did it coincide with significant events in Lindenholdt's history? Marceline had been conducting research of her own, but mostly peeking in on the others and keeping track of them. She had compiled, in fact, about three pages' worth of notes in the process, and a few things had struck her: First, There was something odd going on with the history of the town and the Frickmayers', von Mollerns', and Grunewalds' roles in it, particularly the first and their pattern of deaths. They were not all in collusion, she was nearly certain, but had either of the latter two families been responsible for the fall of the town's ruling dynasty? Second, Marci had come to much the same conclusions as Xiuyang about the 'abandoned' mine in the forest to the east, the crypt, and the Blitzwerfer: they were connected. A 'lightning thrower' would naturally make use of a rich but virtually-untapped haureenium vein. The semi-abandoned crypt of a near-extinct noble house would be... She furrowed her brow in thought. No, there were better places to hide it, especially with the crypt being close to an active construction site. The furniture store made sense - things would naturally be moved in and out, it wasn't a high volume site, and it would require a large warehouse. Marceline reached down and snapped her brakes open. [color=598527]"I'm just going for a walk,"[/color] she announced. [color=598527]"I need some fresh air."[/color] She rolled past them, pushed open the door, and poked her head outside. Squinting across the square and enhancing what she saw with a bit of arcane magic, she took a look at the sign: 'A. Stancati and Son: Fine Revidian Furniture'. [color=598527]"Gotcha,"[/color] she whispered under her breath, turning jauntily on the spot and pushing back inside. The first shelf that she went to was the 'accounts of active business concerns'. Was it really that simple? Roslyn hesitated to believe it, but... the more she found, the more support Marco's theory gained. Of course all the bigger powers involved in the war would be preparing for the bloodshed. If any one untrustworthy discovered it, like two workers, then they would have to be dealt with. So... why risk the attention? That was the part that bugged her most. She then reached for the investigation over the estate's fire. Before she could say a word to Marceline, the tethered pulled back and took a break. Roslyn kept her lips closed as her eyes shifted back to the reports. She started with suspected causes and where it might've originated. This didn't feel like an accident. While Marceline searched for records and Roslyn rifled through what surprisingly little was available on the fire, Xiuyang dug into the past finances of the families. What she found were three different stories. The Frickmayers could trace their origins, though somewhat dubiously, all of the way back to pre-Avincian times, and they had always been powerful, and then wealthy landowners, though they had clearly failed to diversify and adapt to Lindenholdt's burgeoning reputation as a a trade hub. They had, in all of their recorded history, less than a half-dozen business ventures of any sort to their name, though there had been plenty of military accolades, sponsorship of fine art, and donations to the church. They had, however, suffered a series of losses in the wars against the Hyparish, Huulisch, and Mycormish, given up some of their lands as a dowry for a younger daughter to marry into the royal family (in a marriage that had been unhappy and produced no heirs), and sold off some more of their holdings following a series of famines about a century ago. From that point, their decline had been precipitous. The von Mollerns' origins, meanwhile, were a good deal more obscure, with the first note of them appearing as wool merchants purportedly 'with ancestry from Ostermark' in a census five-hundred-eleven years prior to the present day. By three-hundred-sixty-one, they were considered a 'family of note'. By three-hundred-eleven, then-head of their family, Emil, was elected head of the clothiers' guild. By two-sixty-one, they had established a growing bank and, a century later, it was the largest one in town. Just over a century before the present day, they had been ennobled ostensibly for 'courageous service during the campaign against the Hyparish.' However, accounts from the time noted a sizable donation to the royal treasuries. Since then, they had continued as bankers and merchants, though they had come into sizable estates as well, just outside of town to the north. Much in contrast to the social mobility of the other two, the Grunewalds had remained fixtures for nearly as long as the Frickmayers. They had been lesser thegns, knights of note, and skilled craftsman, depending on the generation and branch of their sprawling family. Often, they had married their elder children to the lesser sons and daughters of the Frickmayers, Steinbauers, and even the Hohenfelters, Hohnsteins, Mikkelsterns, and Vaanses. Thier own third and fourth heirs had often faded into obscurity, married to Webers and Lorenzes and Schuttmanns. Early on, they had made a handful of advantageous matches with the von Mollerns. If they had remained, consistently, among the town's leading families, they had also lacked the driving ambition and social climbing of the von Mollerns, who they had made a handful of advantageous matches with over the years. If one thing stood out, it was that they had always been loyal soldiers of the ruling house of Falkenhayn, having donated to numerous war efforts and sent numerous lesser sons there. If there was any conclusion to draw, it was that there was, in short, no real pattern aside from the fall of the Frickmayers counterbalanced by the rise of the von Mollerns. Roslyn found what she expected to find: very little. It felt like they had already decided the accident was just that or not bothered with it. Half-dozen servants died along with about two dozen peasants living on the land. There were a few children from the last group who lost their parents, but survived. She jotted their names and ages down just in case. [color=#cbc66d]"I should be surprised by the 'useful' fire report, but I'm not."[/color] Her eyes darted over the lead investigator's name. Following that up, she glanced through the insurance claims for each family member. At this point, she didn't expect to find much, save the obvious and just aimed to finish what she started. [color=#cbc66d]"After I'm done with this, I think it might be best to take a break. What do you two think?"[/color] She was a little relieved that this mystery wasn't something demonic, at least from what she could tell. [color=slateblue]"Mm. Yeah... One more thing from me, too,"[/color] Xiuyang replied idly. The families' histories yet again offered only suspicions and no real evidence of anything. Her research seemed to be exhausted of leads, or perhaps she'd just spent the last of her patience for reading—and sitting. How [i]*did*[/i] Marci do it? [color=slateblue]"I don't suppose there would be something so very convenient as a map of all known tunnels and dig sites in Lindenholdt,"[/color] she remarked out loud, eyes casting about for Sybille. If any of her theories proved to have merit, a rough map, or even a list of areas where their enemies could be hiding out could be of great benefit. Indeed, Roslyn's digging had not amounted to very much. Ten of the eleven Frickmayers had been present, with six immediately identified as dead, another one joining them later on, and the remains of the last three - Sarah, Eike, and the latter's mother - never positively identified but never reappearing in the record. The number of bodies, at the very least, had matched the number killed. The fire, according to a heavily-redacted copy of the report, had been started by a lantern knocked over in the kitchens during a dry spell in late Rezain and it had raced through the estate and across the fields filled with dry hay like nothing. The majority of the Frickmayers had died from smoke inhalation in their sleep, without the chance to ever use the Gift to stop it. The only survivors who had actually been caught in the fire had been Liesl Frickmayer's personal assistant, who had been at the estate to grab some personal documents for her ladyship, one of the Schuttmanns - Dietmar - who had been visiting and wandered out to dunk his head in a well, apparently, in a drunken stupor, and an amnesiac young boy who'd been identified as one of the tenant farmers' children by friendly acquaintances. He'd been sent to an orphanage, renamed Berthold, taken in by the church for his voice, and raised as a choirboy before becoming an organist's apprentice. As for insurance? There had not been any and, in any case, Roslyn had imagined that a stretch, as it was only really ever craftsmen, who insured the tools of their trade through their guilds. It was around that time that all three of the girls had become restless and Roslyn had voiced as much. Sibylle was just in the process of finding Xiuyang the closest thing that she could to the map she'd asked for: one was a piece for surveyors and builders, and the other a prospectors' map. To obtain them, Xiuyang only need to blow her friend off for a minute or two, and it was, perhaps, [i]somewhat[/i] worth it. Together, the two maps pieced together a [i]somewhat[/i] complete picture of the town's underground environs. Meanwhile, Marceline had nodded and clapped a registry shut. [color=598527]"A. Stancati & Son,"[/color] she chirped. [color=598527]"Foreign National Business license - applied for last Assani."[/color] She smirked. [color=598527]"It's a fuckin' front all the way, and wait 'til you get a load of their local partners - Kerreman law requires a local partner for foreign nationals to set up a business."[/color] She tilted her head, rolling back a half-push from the table. [color=598527]"Maybe we can discuss over lunch?"[/color] She raised her eyebrows hopefully. [color=slateblue]"Ohh? This is better than I expected,"[/color] Xiuyang said under her breath as she pored over the maps. She remembered to thank Sybille quietly as she did. With this, even if the Revidians hadn't been thrifty and decided to dig their own secret tunnels, then if she just made a copy of the combined maps, the negative space would reveal where those secret tunnels could be built to avoid public awareness—except that of the local tethered, the skeptical part of her helpfully noted, as always. [color=slateblue]"Why have I got a feeling I know who that might be?"[/color] She sighed as she stood up and stretched. [color=slateblue]"Ja, let's eat,"[/color] she agreed eagerly. [color=slateblue]"As it happens, I'm in the mood for some fresh meat."[/color] [color=#cbc66d]"You won't get any protest from me. I think we've gotten as far as we can here."[/color] Roslyn agreed then pushed her chair out. She rose to her feet and then collected her things. Finally, she neatly stacked the books back where she found them. [color=#cbc66d]"As for those business partners, I know who my money is on."[/color] The smaller girl began to walk back toward the door as she flashed her friends a cheeky smile. [color=#cbc66d]"Now, lets go before my stomach decides to swallow me whole."[/color][/hider][h2]Just a Little Break[/h2][hider=**]There were two bakeries, the butcher, their inn just up the street, and a small tavern at the edge of the square, in addition to a couple of stalls with people selling savoury holiday snacks and hot drinks. Then, Marceline saw it: [color=598527]"Motherf..."[/color] she trailed off, immediately turning and making for a little pop-up coffee stall with a green logo called 'Zeno Buck'. An uneven cobble stopped the tethered dead in her tracks until a bit of telekinesis boosted her. She twisted to look over her shoulder at the others and jerked a thumb in the knock-off's direction. [color=598527]"Will you get a load of this?"[/color] Of course, while Marci's attention was drawn in one direction, life went on in the bustling square. A display was being moved around in the furniture shoppe: A. Stancati & Son, and plenty of workers were present. A couple of swarthier-looking men were haranguing Edith Grunewald, or perhaps it was the other way around. The same fire-and-brimstone preacher was still going atop his soapbox, though few paid him any heed, and an older, though not elderly, woman who had been busy at a grocer's, was now yelling at two children for reasons that the trio could not quite make out. Finally, as the clock chimed 2:00 Oraff, a series of figures bustled out from the Dyer's Guild, Hans Grunewald among them. With what might've been a father's instinct, he started to make his way towards Edith. However, upon seeing who she was with, he doubled back and did his best to disappear into the crowd - an unlikely feat for a man of his prodigious size. Last of all, if they were perceptive enough, they might've noticed an unusually tall woman and a young Revidian teen - Ingrid and Marco - making their way rapidly north along the plaza's edge. Marceline had nearly reached pay dirt, and these haughty bipeds would never understand just how difficult it was to roll one's crippled ass through a world that was, at best, benignly neglectful and, at worst, actively malicious towards the... differently-abled. She visibly flinched when the pinches came in hard and fast - that would be Ingrid, she knew - but managed not to break her pushing rhythm. [color=598527][i]Gruel Wall...[/i][/color] It took a moment to click. [color=598527][i]Grunewald![/i][/color] Non-tethered had fewer occasions to use pinch language and, all things considered, Ingrid was not terrible. [color=598527][/color] she asked, but the tethered was already taking action. [color=598527][/color] She could manage two at once, though it was not easy. [color=598527][/color] Then, she noticed something, for few things ever escaped Marceline. [color=598527][/color] It was at about that moment that their pursuer disappeared into the crowd. Xiuyang had a quick final word with Sybille, thanking her for her help so far and asking that she keep their materials handy, as they wouldn't be long in returning for them. Marci's foul outburst caught her attention briefly, and she snickered at the knock-off branding that would make any Rettanese proud. Most of her attention, however, was reserved for the Grunewalds. She, too, felt a protective urge of a kind—one that, much like Marci, she supposed Edith would probably not appreciate if she knew of it—as she watched the girl's father suppress his own instincts. [color=slateblue][i]*Gift or no Gift, I find it hard to believe that you'd leave your wheelchair-bound daughter alone against two grown men, unless you knew who they were.*[/i][/color] She stroked her chin thoughtfully. This was an opportunity—for what, precisely, she did not yet know, but she knew it to be an opportunity of a kind. [color=slateblue][i]*Danke, Herr Grunewald, for the chance to take the temperature of these troubled waters.*[/i] "Excuse me for just a minute,"[/color] she said to Marci and Roslyn, approaching the furniture store. She neared the storefront at a moderate pace, with an easy and confident stride Ciro had taught her to emulate, knowingly or otherwise. [color=slateblue]"There you are,"[/color] she said smoothly, as if she'd been looking for Edith all along. [color=slateblue]"You aren't [i]*bothering*[/i] these gentlemen, are you?"[/color] she quipped, turning the expected line on its head with a cheeky grin. [color=slateblue][i]*Please be on our side,*[/i][/color] she thought as she sensed with the Gift for any trace of pinch language use in the immediate area. [color=slateblue][i]*Please don't be here to warn them that we just found out what's really going on here,*[/i][/color] she thought, her face as friendly as ever as she gauged Edith's reaction. She didn't intend to create a big confrontation here, but if she found herself in one, Ingrid and Marco weren't too far—and in fact, Ingrid was already communicating with Marci, she noticed. Roslyn inhaled the crisp air when they exited the archives. She pulled up her scarf over her mouth as her eyes roamed around the bustling crowds in the square. No surprise since it was the hour of Oraff. She caught sight of the furniture shoppe for the second time that day. Then there was Edith being lectured or lecturing a couple of men. It was challenging for her to tell from this distance. She attempted to focus in on it and catch bit of the conversation. That's when Marceline's comment distracted her. Her eyes turned to the small coffee stand labeled 'Zeno Buck'. She recalled Fritz von Mollern's mention about Marceline's business and then sighed. [color=#cbc66d]"I recall hearing that mimicry is a form of flattery. I'm not sure I agree in this case."[/color] If Roslyn had felt the pinch language message, she gave no outward indication. Her eyes simply glanced into the crowd when Hans attempted to vanish into it. That was odd and she had a feeling she knew why. [color=#cbc66d]"Try not to wander off too far, Xiuyang. We still need to get lunch."[/color] She made a note where her friend was heading before she continued to track Hans in the crowd. Not hard since he was a large man. [color=#87CEEB]"Oh, Salomé!"[/color] Edith exclaimed, eyes flashing at the two men. Xiuyang's sensing for a pinch message received its fulfillment sooner and more emphatically than she might've imagined as none other than Marci messaged her directly. [color=598527][/color] [color=#87CEEB]"Zese gentlemen were just from ze furniture store over zere."[/color] She pointed in the direction of A. Stancati & Son. [color=#87CEEB]"Zey were just trying to sell me something that I insisted I wasn't interested in."[/color] She shook her head good-naturedly, but there was a tightness around her mouth and eyes, and Xiuyang had known Marceline long enough to recognize the signs of unease in a wheelchair user. Edith's brakes were unlocked and her hands hovered just above her wheels. [color=#87CEEB]"Merchants will be merchants, though,"[/color] she snorted. Then, came a second pinch message. [color=#87CEEB][/color] It took a skilled mage like Roslyn less than a minute to track down the blob-meets-mountain that was Hans Grunewald. The corpulent man was, in fact, being tugged at by a young boy. [color=#F0E68C]"Opa, ich will nicht zu dieser blöden Metzgerei! Ich will zu Mama!"[/color] the child insisted. Hans, face red and eyes exasperated, urged the boy onward. [color=gold]Beeil dich, Kuno,"[/color] he huffed, [color=gold]"ich hole dir deine Lieblingsfleischpasteten. Deine Mutter ist gerade mit diesen beiden Männern beschäftigt. Du weißt doch, sie sind ihre Freunde."[/color] The boy scrunched up his face. [color=#F0E68C]"Sie sehen nicht wie Freunde aus,"[/color] he sulked, craning his neck to look back in Edith's direction. Hans shook his head, leading the boy against his will but also looking over his shoulder and - was that a small [i]draw[/i] from him that Roslyn sensed? [color=gold]"Natürlich sind sie ihre Freunde! Du erinnerst dich doch an die netten Revidianer, oder? Ihnen gehört das Möbelhaus."[/color] [color=#F0E68C]"Gut! Ich gehe,"[/color] snorted Kuno, unconvinced but recognizing resistance as futile. It was in this time that Roslyn found her way to them, still concealed amid the movement of the crowds, but she could step forward, at any moment, to reveal her presence. Marceline had stopped, annoyed, as Ingrid and Marco began to rush off. Xiuyang had gone for Edith and Roslyn for Hans. That left... She gritted her teeth and clenched and unclenched her fists. She wanted to find out how a place known as 'Zeno Buck' had ended up here. If imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, it was also infringing upon her and Zarina's brand. But there were pressing issues. Why had she come here again? Why did she [i]care[/i]? Oh yes: father! Father had threatened to disown her if she had not agreed to see to his interests here. The young witch reached up and rubbed at the bridge of her nose in tired frustration. [color=598527]"You owe me one, Thön,"[/color] she muttered under her breath and, with a loud huff, wrenched her wheels about and began making her way towards the furniture shop. They were already hassling [i]one[/i] tethered, so why not have another hassle [i]them[/i]? Marci set her jaw and pushed forward determinedly, senses alert, and it was moments before she caught Edith being a sneaky bitch. [color=598527][i]Schiesse,[/i][/color] she thought, [color=598527][i]I really wanted to like you, too.[/i][/color] Duly, she messaged Xiuyang and kept moving, but these [i]blasted[/i] cobbles forced her to actually pay attention to the ground. She made it four more pushes - and Dami knew she couldn't coast on this hellscape - before a second revelation. [color=598527][i]And now I'm supposed to like you again because you have a cute little son. Double Schiesse.[/i][/color] She all-but rolled her eyes before providing the roughest of translations for Roslyn. [color=598527][/color] she began. [color=598527][/color] And then Marceline herself was sitting before A. Stancati & Sons. There was, thoughtfully, a ramp over the small step outside, and she couldn't help but wonder why? For heavy shipments using a cart, or for Edith Grunewald? What even [i]was[/i] the deputy constable's play here? What was her father's!? Were they allies with these guys? Enemies? Or was it an alliance gone wrong and, if so, [i]why[/i]? [color=598527][i]Hook me up with a telepathic connection to Rosy and Xiuyang, Thön? Pretty please?"[/i][/color] She pushed the door open and rolled inside. Roslyn smiled as an idea sprung to mind and she moved away from Marci, who had started rolling for the shoppe. Her words came out casually. [color=#cbc66d]"Ugh, I'm getting really hungry. I'll meet you and Xiuyang at the butcher's."[/color] A small series of light kinetic pinches ran across Marceline's arm. [color=#cbc66d] [/color] Her pace started off strong and quick, giving her the appearance of anger. It was far from the truth, but it gave an excuse for the rapid steps. From the corner of her eye, she tracked Hans. She tried to time her walk to meet them just at the door. It wasn't easy since he had a head start on her. [color=#87CEEB]"Oh, I, uh... my stomach was just rumbling,"[/color] Edith declared, patting it. The organ let out a convenient gurgle to pair with her display. [color=#87CEEB]"lunch sounds wonderful, and they have some really nice cuts just before the holidays."[/color] She twisted to regard the two men. [color=#87CEEB]"You know, Giacomo, you and Sylvio should try -"[/color] One of the men - Xiuyang wasn't sure which - narrowed his eyes. He, apparently, had zero compunctions about cutting Edith off. [b]"Non dovresti essere dalla nostra parte?"[/b] he asked. [b]"Sapete che questi mangiatori di crauti ci stanno rubando, vero?"[/b] added the other. [b]"Ruote, qui, è a letto con loro."[/b] [b]"Pranza con lei e impara tutto quello che puoi,"[/b] concluded the first. [b]"Ci sentiamo più tardi."[/b] [b]"Ricorda: se l'accademia brucia, hai ancora una casa. Se il tuo paese brucia, tu no."[/b] With that final ominous warning, they departed, meandering back towards the store. Marceline, who had just popped her head in, made a show of craning her neck, looking around, and making a disinterested face before backing out of the door and nonchalantly - but for more of those [i]motherfucking[/i] cobbles - rolling along, browsing the shops and stalls. Once she was certain that she had dropped suspicion, she raced off in the direction her friends were going, drawing and casting quite freely to make her journey smooth and simple. Edith, meanwhile, was struggling to do the same and, had they not been busy moving her, the trembling of her hands might've been far more plainly obvious. Roslyn, for her part, managed to nail the intercept, more or less, though Marceline was just a bit behind her and Edith Xiuyang were somewhat more distant, their figures - if not their energies - obscured amid the milling crowds. She was on her own for the time being. Xiuyang listened to the two men speak rapidly in Revidian. She was listening intently, until they were finished—and then she barked with laughter, as if the man who'd gotten the last word in said something truly hilarious. [color=slateblue]"[i]*Certo, certo. Capisco. Ci sentiamo dopo,*[/i]"[/color] she replied, waving them off in a friendly manner. She walked beside Edith in silence for a while, until the furniture store was at the further reaches of her range, and she became more confident that unless they had [i]*another*[/i] tethered hidden away somewhere, or a mage with higher capacity than her, her message to Edith would not be intercepted. [color=slateblue][/color] As Roslyn reached the butcher shop, her hand reached out for the door. She paused when she spotted another, beefier hand reached at the same time. With a practiced expression of surprise, the girl pulled back her own hand and tilted her eyes upward. Hans. Flashing an apologetic smile, her voice soft in its presentation. [color=#cbc66d] "Pardon, sir. I didn't mean be rude. You go first, you look like you have your hands full." [/color] She glanced at the kid at his side. There it came again, as Marceline was mid-push, and her right hand jerked, instinctively, toward her ear. She swerved on a cobble and one of her feet tumbled off of its footrest. [color=598527][i]Nun. Mom. Super.!?[/i][/color] she thought. [color=598527][i]Punch. Light. Out.!?[/i][/color]When they returned to Ersand'Enise - [i]if[/i], indeed, they did - she would give the Eskandishwoman a crash course in pinch code. She would drill Ingrid as if she were Luria Colloy and it was MF101A: Intro to Magnetic Magic. The most confounding part of the message, however, was 'Yo. hun. Knew. Crypt.' The tethered took a moment to dump her rebellious foot back where it belonged and let her arms go slack. 'Nun mom super' was... [color=598527][i]Mother Superior![/i][/color] She nibbled her lower lip, eyes flicking about for the others, by the butcher, but she had lost them. 'Punch light out' was 'knocked out'. That one wasn't too hard. 'Yo hun, knew crypt' just didn't make any grammatical... [color=598527]"Mother Superior knocked out Johann. He knew about the crypt,"[/color] she murmured. Marceline paused, fingers drumming pensively on her rims for a second. [color=598527][i]Or is it [i]'she[/i] knew about the crypt'?[/i][/color] The exact meaning was unclear. [color=598527][/color] Marceline sent back. While she assumed the former, she was wary of making an ass out of 'u' and 'me'. She didn't necessarily wait. She would be ready and braced for Ingrid's next message. They tended to be the pinch code equivalent of shouting in someone's ear. In the meantime, she threaded some telekinesis into her movements and glided, albeit imperfectly, over the cobble. Up ahead, Roslyn was speaking with Hans Grunewald and a boy while Edith and Xiuyang approached. The other tethered might've been alright at masking her emotions outwardly but, behind the facade, biochemically, she was a rolling ball of anxiety and fear. Edith's pushing was stiff and mechanical. Suddenly, there was a draw and a quick chemical spell cast on herself. She switched to broken Retanese instead of responding in pinch language. [color=#87CEEB]"We are make new weapon: Revidia and Kerremand together. Revidia wants many. Kerremand is far from other... friends. We need more. Revidia will not give them. We steal and hide them under church. Then, two men die. It is not we who did this. We do not know who but this make all we are do in danger."[/color] Her eyes flicked tot he side and she cursed under her breath as the cobble gave her just as much trouble as it did Marci. Then, up ahead, she could see her father and son speaking with a young woman who she had barely met. Adrenaline spiked within her for a moment and her eyes flashed at Xiuyang as she instinctively drew. [color=gold]"Hah!"[/color] He waved her off, still puffing. [color=gold]"It is no worry."[/color] For a second, Roslyn could sense him draw in that way that one did while doing a full sensory sweep. Then, he sighed and smiled. [color=gold]"You are with ze school, ja?"[/color] He shook his head. [color=gold]"I was in a rather groß hurry before and very much out of my breath. One of your classmates helped me."[/color] Meanwhile, young Kuno was looking Roslyn up and down with intense eyes. [color=#F0E68C]"Wer ist diese Dame?"[/color] he asked sourly, only for his grandfather to pat him on the head. [color=gold]"Kuno, be nice and use our Avintz. Maybe, zen, she will introduce herself."[/color] Xiuyang's eyes flicked over to Hans and the kid, and she realized exactly the situation Edith thought she was in. It was difficult to resist the urge to draw, herself, slow as it was for a Devourer. [color=slateblue]"Easy now,"[/color] she warned, also speaking in broken Rettanese. [color=slateblue]"I'm not threatening you or family. Revidian threatened me."[/color] She jerked a thumb back at the furniture store and smirked derisively. [color=slateblue]"Lucky you. I'm not work with idiots. I only solve two men murder mystery. They fuckin' up, not my problem."[/color] Then, with an easy smile and a shrug, she switched back to Avincian. [color=slateblue]"Which cuts were you recommending, again? I'm simply famished."[/color] Roslyn nodded her head. [color=#cbc66d]"Sounds like Ingrid." [/color] She listened as concern surfaced on her expression. [color=#cbc66d]"Yeah, I saw. Hopefully you weren't late for anything."[/color] The fear was palpable and she had a feeling she knew why. Confronting it wouldn't be a good idea as she remained calm and kept her expression softened. Of course the kid spoke up, flaring with dislike and judgement at her. A part of her wanted to know what she did to deserve that, but some kids were just grumpy. Of course his grandfather scolded him lightly causing her to recall her own manners. [color=#cbc66d]"To be fair, I'd be grumpy too in this situation. My name is Roslyn, nice to officially meet you."[/color] Her eyes drifted toward the sound of Marci's wheels approaching and hope to spot Xuiyang not far behind. That's when her stomach growled, making her tense. [color=#cbc66d]"This is what I get for not eating a decent breakfast..." [/color] [color=#F0E68C]"Kuno,"[/color] said the boy somewhat tersely, holding out a hand. [color=#F0E68C]"Which ist short fur Konrad..."[/color] There was a moment of hesitation. [color=#F0E68C]"Konrad Grunewald."[/color] [color=gold]"See, now? Zat wasn't so hard,"[/color] chided Hans, [color=gold]"now was it?"[/color] He shook his head good-naturedly. [color=#F0E68C]"You didn't meet us on accident,"[/color] the boy stated, with that smug definitiveness that only children could truly own. [color=gold]"Kuno, stop it."[/color] [color=gold]"Yes, grandfather."[/color] The boy shot him an apologetic smile. [color=#F0E68C]"I'm sorrry."[/color] Then, when the older man looked up to offer a nod of apology, Roslyn was treated to a superior smirk by the seven-year-old. Edith's expression was hooded, but it eased slightly, and more so as she sighted her son. [color=#87CEEB]"Oh, we simply must try ze venison at zis time of year: strip fried on bread with au jus and an onion broth. If you will excuse me -"[/color] [color=#87CEEB]"Kuno!"[/color] she called out, [color=#87CEEB]"what a big smile you have nowadays."[/color] The boy, caught red-handed, quickly let his face go slack. [color=#F0E68C]"Whaaat?"[/color] he protested, [color=#F0E68C]"I wasn't smiling. Honest."[/color] [color=#87CEEB]"I believe you, Knöpfchen."[/color] She reached out and pinched his cheek and Kuno flinched back. [color=#F0E68C]"Mama, das ist eine ernste Angelegenheit!"[/color] he protested. [color=#F0E68C]"Diese Frau ist absichtlich mit Opa und mir zusammengestoßen und hat versucht, es wie einen Unfall aussehen zu lassen. Ich traue ihr nicht!"[/color] Edith tilted her head as Marceline caught up to the others, but Kuno, not noticing her, continued. [color=#F0E68C]"Ich meine es ernst! Was, wenn sie eine Attentäterin oder eine Spionin ist? Sie sieht zu normal aus. Es sind immer die Normalen, wirklich!"[/color] It was right then that Marci rolled up silently behind him. [color=598527]"Komm schon, Junge. Ich habe nur ein paar Dutzend Menschen getötet."[/color] She smiled too-sweetly as he jumped on the spot and whirled about. [color=#F0E68C]"Ich meine es eerrrrrnnnst!"[/color] he whined, and his mother pulled him close up against her knees and kissed him right near the ear where children always dreaded. [color=#87CEEB]"And thank you for looking out for us, Bärchen, but I promise there is no danger. Mama is working with zese people."[/color] His eyes evaluated, in turn, Xiuyang, Marceline (lingering on the wheelchair for a moment with some understanding) and, finally, Roslyn. He pointed two fingers at his eyes and then one right at her as if to say 'I'm watching you.' Then, he sighed. At a slight questioning look from Xiuyang, Marceline explained quickly. [color=598527]"The kid thinks we're spies or assassins. He says Roslyn contrived to run into him and his grandfather."[/color] [color=#F0E68C]"Who are you calling 'kid'?"[/color] Kuno shot back. [color=#F0E68C]"You're hardly older than me!"[/color] [color=598527]"I'm double your age, you little... booger."[/color] Marceline reached in for a head-pat and was rebuffed with a firm smack to the back of the hand and a leap backwards. Behind the cluster, however, a couple of other potential patrons had lined up. [color=gold]"Ah, perhaps we might pick up some meats and then go enjoy lunch in our garden?"[/color] Hans suggested. When the rest of the truth tumbled out of the boy's mouth, Roslyn stood there in silence. She was never good at lying. In fact, her father discouraged it and now it proved to be her undoing here. Konrad's smugness reminded her of her brother's snark. What a little brat...she thought. As Edith arrived, it was heartwarming to see them interact. She had been about to say something when she caught Kuno's fingers pointing at her. Immaturity flickered down her spine as she let her built up eye roll loose. [color=#cbc66d]"He's sharper than I expected and reminds me of my snarky older brother. However, while I'm flattered, I lack skills for both of those."[/color] Her attention turned to Hans. [color=#cbc66d]"I agree. This is not a good spot to stand and talk."[/color] She followed them inside, ordering what she thought looked good and helped to carry any extra. Xiuyang offered the boy a sly smile as they entered the butcher's shop. [color=slateblue]"Take it from me, Konrad. Even an assassin wouldn't dare mess with your mother when she's angry."[/color] She winked, as if to encourage his assumption that he was totally right and very cool for having figured her out so quickly. Edith had already told the boy that she was working with them, so what was the harm in letting him have his fun? He wasn't exactly wrong, either. Xiuyang ordered both the venison as Edith suggested, and the pineapple pork. [color=slateblue]"You have an impressive selection, I must say. Get many Darhannics passing through?"[/color] She made light conversation as she waited, just as curious as Marci was about the oddities of this place. The butcher was a swarthier man, broad in the shoulders and distinctly foreign. He worked in the background while a younger man - more local in appearance - worked the counter. When Xiuyang spoke, surprisingly, he piped up even before Marceline, Hans, or Edith could offer a translation. [color=#B22222]"No many, my friend!"[/color] he called, busy carving away at a roast boar. He looked Xiuyang up and down. [color=#B22222]"No you, though, huh?"[/color] He shook his head, still smiling. [color=#B22222]"But it is hard for my friend who know Faşdal to get the meat here, so I do this business."[/color] He smiled, and pointed to the pineapple on the ham. [color=#B22222]"One man I know, he take those for me: Beşer."[/color] He considered for a moment. [color=#B22222]"He is in town now, I think."[/color] Xiuyang shrugged, as if to say that she was young and still a learner. If she didn't admit it every once in a while, it felt like something that could slip away from her, and she would all of a sudden one day start acting like a wise old hag who had it all figured out at the ripe age of 21. [color=slateblue]"Must be good friend, then!"[/color] she replied with a grin. Something about his jolliness was infectious, even a bit familiar, but she chalked it up to the Caldores cheer. [color=slateblue]"This man Beşer, he a sea trader too?"[/color] she asked curiously. If he was, it was possible that she'd made his acquaintance once before. The butcher nodded. [color=#B22222]"Yes. He is sea trader. Good man. He know people many country."[/color] Some of the twinkle faded from the man's eyes at that, and he thoughtfully finished portioning his last cut. [color=#B22222]"He is go back to Virang in two day."[/color] He shrugged. [color=#B22222]"Maybe for long time. Who knows?"[/color] With that, he stepped forward as the others completed their purchase. [color=#B22222]"There is Revidia ship on the river, ready to go before all ice, but I think he take a different ship."[/color] With that, he carefully wrapped up some striploin and handed it to her. [color=#B22222]"Extra for you, free. Happy travels."[/color] The others were finished and all that there was to do was to head to the Grunewalds' though, perhaps, there was now a little more. Considering the magnitude of what she and her friends had uncovered, Xiuyang doubted that a sheet of ice would be enough to stop their ship from leaving. At least now she knew where to find them. She never did like letting others dictate the time or place of meeting—especially when they were willing to treat her as an enemy at the drop of a hat. [color=slateblue]"[i]*Grazie mille!*[/i] Bless you, sir."[/color] She left with a smile. Though she wouldn't be in Lindenholdt long enough to be a repeat customer, perhaps she'd send a few of her friends his way as a gesture of thanks. She followed Hans to their proposed meeting place, seeming perhaps a bit too calm for someone who'd just claimed to have been threatened by the Revidians earlier. Whether she was a liar or had a fool's confidence would be for Edith to judge. After being shamed by a Revidian nonna, Roslyn couldn't bring herself to try the pineapple and ham. She went with a small share of venison and the boar meat. Her ears listened to the conversation shared between the butcher and Xiuyang, but said nothing. Once they arrived at the Grünewald garden, she broke the silence. [color=#cbc66d]"This whole thing seems like a right o' mess, don't you think?"[/color][/hider] [h2]Secrets in the Grünewald Gardens[/h2][hider=***] The garden was a carefully manicured space behind and surrounding the large but not quite opulent house. Most all of the trees and shrubbery had been carefully pruned and left to Hundrian stillness. A tiny pond had iced over, and all of the tables and chairs had been packed away for the cold months in a shed. There was a covered gazebo with wood and canvas walls, and it was their destination. A large river stone hearth occupied its center and, when they took their seats close by, a little bit of arcane magic from Edith rendered it warm and cozy as their food cooked. Marceline, reaching out her senses, immediately noticed the sonic negation bubble that they had entered, and also that it took some focus to distinguish between the energy signatures of the fire, the cooking meat, the people inside, and a hot spring bubbling below. For a non-tethered, it would be very difficult. Roslyn's observation passed with only bare acknowledgement as their food cooked, most of the attention on Kuno's antics before the boy was sent inside against vociferous protests. He hovered at the edge of the gazebo, likely to lurk instead of going inside, until Edith took a couple of warning pushed toward him and he scurried away. [color=gold]"A bright boy, my grandson,"[/color] Hans observed, taking a bite of his schnitzel. [color=gold]"One day, perhaps, he will be head of the household, if he learns our craft."[/color] His eyes flicked, momentarily, to Edith and hers to her father's. She was cutting her pineapple ham with great precision. [color=#87CEEB]"So it will not pass to Ilse?"[/color] she inquired. Hans waited until he was finished chewing. [color=gold]"She married a Schuttmann and moved to Hetzelburg."[/color] Edith's eyes flashed for a moment. [color=#87CEEB]"And not Jochen? Is he not your eldest son?"[/color] [color=gold]"He has neizer talent nor interest, and..."[/color] Hans shrugged tightly, pounding down some more of his food. Edith nodded slowly, continuing at a pace far more regular than her father's. [color=#87CEEB]"Frida?"[/color] [color=gold]"Too young and too frivolous."[/color] He batted the idea away. [color=gold]"You know it would be a disaster."[/color] [color=#87CEEB]"And Leo, father?"[/color] [color=gold]"He is more crippled than [i]you[/i]."[/color] He reached up, still chewing, tapped his temple, and shook his head before swallowing. [color=gold]"No. You are ze third and ze smartest, and your boy takes after you and not his father, thankfully."[/color] He gestured with his fork. [color=gold]"I will pass our skills down to him and, once you marry zat man, he will be legitimized and inherit."[/color] [color=#87CEEB]"I think we are okay to speak now, father."[/color] Hans' demeanour changed. [color=gold]"It [i]is[/i] a mess,"[/color] he admitted, his body language remaining the same. [color=gold]"You will continue on as if we have not changed subject."[/color] Marceline nodded along, trying to stifle her reaction. [color=gold]"The simple matter of it is that the Revidians are paying us for weapons that [i]we[/i] are developing, and they expect ze lions' share, even zough our need is very much greater."[/color] Edith knitted her fingers together matter-of-factly. [color=#87CEEB]"No fool worth his salt as a strategist truly believes zat Revidia will fight Perrence head-on. It is suicide."[/color] [color=gold]"So we are taking our fair share and hiding zem where we must,"[/color] Hans concluded. Then, he furrowed his brow. [color=gold]"Only... someone else has now decided to interfere."[/color] Edith nodded in concern. [color=#87CEEB]"And zere lies the big issue,"[/color] she finished. [color=#87CEEB]"We don't know [i]who[/i]."[/color] She shook her head, very much like her father. [color=#87CEEB]"Even with all of our resources, we don't know."[/color] Roslyn settled in close to the hearth and unwrapped the scarf from her neck. The heat chased off most of the chill as she set it in her lap. She drank in the scent and sound, taking comfort in the normalcy of the moment. There was no way to tell how long this might last. As if reading her mind, the conversation returned to the reason they had arrived here in the first place. With bare fingers, she quickly flipped the boar chunk before it burned her. It continued to pop and crackle while she took in the new information. She had only dealt with one Revidian, Ciro, who had been good to her so far. However she would've been foolish to believe all of them were like that. [color=#cbc66d]" Honestly, it didn't feel right that the Revidians were behind it. Too much risk I would imagine." [/color] Roslyn began to think out loud over what she knew for sure. [color=#cbc66d]"Based on what information we got, we have a rough *when * and possibly *where * they vanished. However, as you pointed out, the *who* and I say the real *why * are still unknown."[/color] There was other things that bothered her as well, but she didn't directly tie them to the missing men. Not without more evidence. [color=#cbc66d]"I think checking the graveyard and river should come next. Somewhere between the cathedral and going home, something happened... Is there anyone that tends to or visits the graves often?"[/color] [color=slateblue][i]*Last I checked, refusing to sell is not considered stealing. They've oversimplifying their arrangement, but I won't gain anything from pressing the issue here. I'll just ask the Revidians later.*[/i][/color] Try as she might, Xiuyang could only conjure up two groups of people she knew could reliably avoid detection by a tethered, and might have some reason to be here: the Volti, and... maybe the church, if they had any others like Sister Laska available. It certainly seemed like they could have an interest in maintaining a big, permanent presence here, what with the unreasonably large Dom and ample funding. In either case, Xiuyang wasn't sure she would have just cause to interfere in their work. [color=slateblue]"Considering that we were able to figure out what the Revidians were up to in a little over one day with no prior information or inside snitch, I wouldn't rule out that they may just be sloppy enough to have their work discovered and then botch the cleanup on top of that."[/color] She leaned back with her cup of tea and sighed heavily. [color=slateblue]"The missing men, did they have work on either side of this project, or were they innocents who stumbled upon it?"[/color] Hans shrugged. [color=gold]"You may look for zem wherever you wish."[/color] He was eating, now and, despite his great corpulence, it was a rather refined affair, with fork, knife, and some restraint. [color=gold]"People will suspect you only of doing your job, which is a good thing, I imagine."[/color] [color=#87CEEB]"If you're looking for someone who tends ze graves, zough,"[/color] Edith cut in, [color=#87CEEB]"I am no expert and my father is not."[/color] She furrowed her brow thoughtfully. [color=#87CEEB]"Likely ze nuns at ze abbey."[/color] She glanced Hans' way and he nodded. [color=gold]"Zey are Rezaindian."[/color] Both nodded in the same way. Both ate in the same way. Both had the same blond hair, though the father's was greying. Kuno's had more than a hint of red in it. Marceline, who was forcing herself to eat in as refined a manner as her hosts, arched an eyebrow. [color=598527]"You know, it occurs to me that there is a current - Flussströmung -"[/color] she quickly translated into her native tongue, [color=598527]"Would it not have carried them further down."[/color] Both Grunewalds blinked, tilted their heads, and shrugged. [color=#87CEEB]"It is hard to say, zis time of year,"[/color] replied the younger. [color=#87CEEB]"Ze... current comes and goes, but when it goes, it goes [i]fast[/i]."[/color] She chewed a bite of her food thoughtfully. [color=#87CEEB]"We have already searched up to three miles away, for what it is worth. If Zey washed itno ze river, zey [i]could[/i] be further, zough it is not likely."[/color] [color=gold]"As far as I know,"[/color] Hans addressed Xiuyang, [color=gold]"Zey were not involved. We didn't want a family man to get his hands dirty, and ze other one..."[/color] He scowled, stabbing at his food. [color=gold]"Not reliable."[/color] There [i]*were*[/i] Rezaindians here, she noted. Perhaps if the preacher's shouting had any merit, they would be worth visiting. Xiuyang wasn't officially a member of any order, but her faith had gained some sincerity. Maybe she could work with them. [color=slateblue][i]*This 'unreliable' man was entrusted with a pretty important assignment, though...*[/i][/color] Xiuyang thought, but didn't say. [color=slateblue]"They were sent to the crypt shortly before they disappeared. I was thinking they had stumbled upon something they were not meant to see—that this business with the weapons had intersected with the crypt's tunnel system, even if only accidentally. If such a thing were possible, it made more sense to me than any other of your typical unsolved mystery theories."[/color] Her tone didn't seem to accuse Hans of withholding information. Gingerly, she set her teacup down. [color=slateblue]"Herr Grunewald, I came here to solve a case, not to get involved in brewing international conflict—but having no knowledge of where one might end and another may begin, I feel as if I am walking on thin ice, purely for the sport of it. I can't help but wonder if my work here is of any help, or if Lindenholdt, and the families of the missing men, would truly be better served if I were to pack up and go home."[/color] Her eyes idly inspected the tea leaves, as if they were as likely to hold the answers as anything else. She chuckled mirthlessly. [color=slateblue]"Wachtmeister von Mollern's message had been clear from the start, rest assured. It's only the true gravity of the situation that hit me just now."[/color] Roslyn reflected on Xiuyang's words. Instinctively, her hand stretched out and gently touched her friend's arm. Her expression mirrored a sober tone and understanding of the conflict. [color=#cbc66d]"Not a surprise, really. I've been having some worries of my own over this."[/color] With a deep breath, she took another bite of her meat and thoughtfully chewed. It gave her the moment she needed to collect her thoughts. [color=#cbc66d]"It's times like this I wish I knew what was best to say. Sadly, I don't know. I do know one thing. I've met the families and despite the mess, I want to help them. On top of it, I want to make sure nothing worse is happening here."[/color] Her eyes shifted to the distant unfinished shadow of the cathedral for a moment then turned back to her friend. [color=#cbc66d]"I will say, you're in a worse position than me. No matter the decision you make, I will understand and respect it. But, I'm going to keep looking for those men."[/color] Hans and Edith exchanged a brief glance at Xiuyang's statement, as Marceline made a show of clattering her cutlery onto her emptied plate and sitting up a little bit straighter. The former furrowed his brow. The latter sighed. [color=gold]"The Wachtmeister has... a certain way of speaking,"[/color] Hans admitted, [color=gold]"So as to protect himself."[/color] Both Grunewalds shook their heads, daughter almost a mirror to her father. [color=gold]"He is, like dear Edith, here -"[/color] He gestured her way for a moment and her eyes flicked between him and her visitors. [color=gold]"sometimes caught between his duty to family and his duty to the people of Lindenholdt."[/color] [color=#87CEEB]"People's lives and wellbeing must always come first,"[/color] Edith said solemnly. [color=#87CEEB]"Do not doubt that for a moment here."[/color] She shook her head, trying to find Marceline's eyes and not quite succeeding. [color=#87CEEB]"We have been trying to keep more of ze blitzwerfen for ourselves for just zis purpose."[/color] She looke dup gravely and swallowed. [color=#87CEEB]"Kerremand will be overrun without some kind of special advantage, and none of us get ze impression zat our allies much care."[/color] [color=gold]"But we are in over our heads, now."[/color] Hans took over from his daughter and she nodded anxiously. [color=gold]"Zere is a third party involved. I cannot say who zey are or what aims zey might have."[/color] He shrugged helplessly. [color=#87CEEB]"I tried to sense zem,"[/color] Edith added. [color=#87CEEB]"I stay up into ze hours of Ipten."[/color] She shook her head in frustration and scowled. [color=#87CEEB]"Nichts."[/color] [color=598527]"Nothing,"[/color] Marceline murmured, by way of translation, and Edith nodded glumly. [color=#87CEEB]"Whoever zey are,"[/color] the deputy admitted, [color=#87CEEB]"zey are very good and we think zey killed zose men."[/color] Hans was silent for a moment, hands resting atop his belly, but he tilted his head to address Roslyn. [color=gold]"I would look in ze mines, ze crypt, or well down ze river."[/color] He shrugged. [color=gold]"I wish I could be of more help but, sadly, zat is ze extent of my knowledge."[/color] [i]Like father, like daughter,[/i] Roslyn thought when she saw the two mimic each other. The display stirred up the longing for her own family. She wondered if the Viscount had started his yearly harassment earlier. Upon hearing him, Roslyn pulled out of her thoughts and flashed an appreciative smile at Hans. [color=cbc66d] "Thank you, I think it's more helpful than some resources."[/color] She glanced at Xiuyang. [color=cbc66d] "I don't think we need to go down to the crypts."[/color] The why wasn't needed since the girls knew it. [color=cbc66d] "That leaves further down the river or the mines. "[/color] Her eyes made a quick note of the sun's position in the grey sky. [color=cbc66d]"We won't have enough time if we do it together. I'm thinking it's better to split up and cover more ground. Who wants where?"[/color] It didn't matter which one she got since she had her compass. Now thinking about it, she idly pulled it out of her skirt pocket and pressed it in her palm. The weight of it brought a small sense of comfort. Marceline glanced between the others and shrugged. [color=598527]"I'll help with either, but a nice stroll by the river sounds a bit, well..."[/color] She snorted ruefully and glanced over at Edith, who replied with a knowing sympathetic nod. [color=#87CEEB]"Unless you go right up to ze bank,"[/color] explained the older tethered, [color=#87CEEB]"zere's a dirt track zat runs beside it."[/color] She reached over to take her father's empty plate and set it atop her own. [color=#87CEEB]"It's pretty..."[/color] She furrowed her brow, struggling with a word. [color=#87CEEB]"Rollstuhlgerecht -"[/color] She blushed at having to switch to her native tongue. [color=#87CEEB]"- even without calling on ze Gift."[/color] [color=598527]"And the mines?"[/color] Marci inquired. Edith shook her head. [color=#87CEEB]"Unless zey have changed - which is possible - you would be using ze Gift [i]ständig[/i] - constantly - in there."[/color] The younger tethered nodded slowly, coming to a conclusion. [color=598527]"And, speaking of gifts..."[/color] she added, making eyes at the canvas bag Roslyn had been carrying for the past hour. [color=598527]"There's still [i]that[/i] to do."[/color] She looked at Xiuyang even before she was finished speaking, however, and cleared her throat. [color=598527]"But first, are you... [i]comfortable[/i] going to the mines alone? - and no lil' Miss Hero bullshit?"[/color] She leaned forward, drumming on the tabletop with her fingers. [color=598527]"I'd have your back from a distance, but... well, I know it's not the same."[/color] [color=slateblue]"Family, huh,"[/color] Xiuyang murmured ruefully. That she had a lot on her mind with regards to what 'family' might mean for her in the near future was plain to see, but her thoughts were her own. She leaned almost imperceptibly closer to Roslyn, as though hoping that by so doing her touch might linger a moment longer. Lately, she cherished such human contact. It reminded her—or merely convinced her, perhaps, that she still was one. [color=slateblue]"I see. As I'm not being eagerly ushered out of Lindenholdt by our kind hosts, I suppose I'll keep looking too,"[/color] she replied with a gentle smile. It wasn't hard for Xiuyang to guess what plans Revidia might have for these weapons. Her mind wandered to the mirror in her possession. She could make contact with home and ask for orders. Orders would give her direction and at least offer the illusion of easing her anxiety, but it would also nullify any excuses she might make later. So long as she had no orders, she could do as her heart pleased, and if Revidia didn't like it, she could plead that she had acted "in ignorance and with all due haste." Still, there was the matter of who at the school had sent them, and with what intentions. If those intentions were to start an incident and hasten the coming war, the identity of those parties involved was [i]*the*[/i] must-know detail. No matter how many angles she thought from, she always returned to this question. Her train of thought was interrupted when Marci suddenly asked if she was comfortable going to the mines alone. It left her a bit stunned, as she wasn't used to being treated as the kind of student that could be sent to a dangerous place alone. She was no Johann or Ingrid—well, she hadn't been, until recently. She was used to being a designated binder. [color=slateblue]"Ehh..? Since when have I ever played at being a hero? It's not my aesthetic,"[/color] she replied with mock offense, lips pursed as she mulled it over. She would not be of much use if a significant magnetic threat was involved. She knew that. She also found it hard to believe that a family with the Grunewalds' resources would leave such a significant asset as the mine unattended, even if it was not in use, such that they would have no idea who might be coming and going there. She supposed that it wasn't impossible that they were telling the truth, but it seemed to her that it would be logical to have at least one guard posted outside, unless there was some specific reason not to. As she mulled these things over, she found herself curious at her own thoughts. Why was she having these concerns, as if she were so sure that there had to be something there, or that it might be a trap? Realistically, she would find nothing at the mines—or nothing she didn't already suspect, at any rate. [color=slateblue]"Sure, I'll go,"[/color] she found herself answering, in spite of herself. She had floated the idea of going to the crypt by herself at night. Surely an abandoned mine was not a stretch. Roslyn's eyes followed Marci's to her bag . In hindsight, she realized now that the promise wasn't the wisest thing she had done, but it felt right at the time. Hopefully, they wouldn't be side tracked again. If there was one thing she hated, it was promises she failed to keep. Her thumb traced the outside of the compass while Xiuyang gave her answer. [color=#cbc66d]"Promise me you'll be careful. If something happens, I'm rushing to your location," [/color] She told her friend. Hoisting herself up, she pulled the straps onto her shoulder as she added. [color=#cbc66d]"We should get going before we lose too much daylight." [/color] It was a brief affair. Did they trust the Grunewalds completely? Likely not, but one did not return hospitality with coldness. Marceline unlocked her brakes and backed away. Thank yous were given and received in both directions and then they were on their way. [color=598527]"You are [i]ferociously[/i] unconvinced about them,"[/color] she prodded Xiuyang, as they left the estate, [color=598527]"hmm?"[/color] She pursed her lips as she rolled along beside the others. The clouds had thinned a bit, though there was a good lick of wind and it remained cold. [color=598527]"As for us, I think we need to drop off the stuff, make some kids happy, and then we've got a [i]long[/i] walk ahead. If there's anything to find, it'll be [i]well[/i] upstream."[/color] [color=slateblue]"Did it seem that way?"[/color] Xiuyang replied innocently. [color=slateblue]"For what it's worth, what they said lines up with what the Revidians said—colored to favor themselves, but so it is. I don't think they're lying, but I suspect [i]*everyone*[/i] of withholding information and adding spin. It's nothing personal. That's the way of things."[/color] Marceline tilted her head in consideration and nodded. [color=598527]"Always knew you were schlau as all fuck."[/color] She smiled and continued on her way to the point where they'd separate. [color=598527]"I'll be watching you like Father Caldores,"[/color] she promised. [color=598527]"I see you when you're sleeping, I'll know when you're awake..."[/color] Roslyn was good-natured about it, but there was an impatience to her: a desire to discharge her duty to those kids and [i]find[/i] something of worth. After a bit more banter, they split like two streams. [color=#cbc66d]"The drop off won't take long, especially if the mother isn't there. As for the river, I honestly don't have much faith we'll find much." [/color] Roslyn before they split. She would have to be careful about the gifts, best to be just treats and nothing particularly expensive. There was little doubt in her mind that the mother would sell anything at this point for booze. [color=#cbc66d]"Good luck, Xiuyang." [/color] She hoped her friend might not run into trouble. No sooner had Marceline finished praising Xiuyang's sharp mind than she remembered that she should have asked the Grunewalds if they had kept a map of their tunnels that she might borrow more easily than the one from the archives. For a second her pace halted as she considered going back to ask, but she decided against it. Time was limited. [color=slateblue][i]*Marci will be backing me up from a safe position outside the mines. I'm being paranoid,*[/i][/color] she decided, waving her friends off as they went separate ways. [color=slateblue]"Don't get lost in the market~"[/color] she quipped teasingly.[/hider]