DoubleChecker

[Widersia] Big Dom’s Champion

Titles: Prime, Prime - Mundane - ed1c24

Hwicce grinned as the words came from Marcus' lips, leaning forward and adding to what was just said. "So you see, because of where the 'accident' took place, there is a bit of a problem. Maybe more than just a 'bit', a moderate problem. Was this carriage booked without a rider of your own respectable company, or was one booked with it?" The mercenary's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Actions:
1 - Adding Street Sense F to Marcus' ability.

[Widersia] Big Dom’s Champion

Freyic’s demand for elevation was met by Gina “Gears” Gearaldi staring down at him for one long second, brass-lit gauntlets humming softly at her sides.

“Kid,” she said at last, “I respect the hustle. But if I carry you, people are gonna think I’m returning a lost package.”

Still, with a snort, she hooked one metal hand under his arm and hoisted him just high enough to get his “bird’s eye view” before setting him back down. “There. Scout responsibly.”

By then Elora had the faceplate in hand and was already moving. The guards watched her come without shifting much at all, but the one with the cigarette let his gaze linger on the plate, then on Piero and Gears behind her, and some of the practiced boredom left his face.

At her measured question, the second guard stepped forward first. He did not reach for the plate, which in itself said something.

“That is Brass Lantern property,” he said. Smooth voice. Expensive coat. Not a servant, then. Security with aspirations. “Damaged in transit, you say.”

The cigarette man flicked ash onto the pavement and gave a thin smile toward Hwicce’s very friendly expression. “Funny district for found property.”

Before either could press harder, the front door opened and a clerk emerged, lean and severe in a dark vest with a gold watch chain across his middle. His eyes went to the faceplate, then sharpened.

“That would be carriage fourteen,” he said. “Leased last night through a private booking.”

Piero’s smile never reached his eyes. “Wonderful. Then we’re making progress.”

The clerk folded his hands. “Perhaps. If you would care to explain why Calabrese people are asking after one of my company’s coaches.”

[Widersia] Big Dom’s Champion

Titles: Prime, Prime - Mundane - ed1c24

Hwicce shrugged. "Let's see what good comes from that then." He didn't say anything about Freyic's request, only mirrored Marcus' own reaction; a single eyebrow raised momentarily. He would let the woman herself deal with it. And, following behind Elora, the mercenary would put on his best impression as she began talking with the 'guards': a wide smile on his lips and one of his hands hidden behind his back, gripping the handle of one of his throwing knives, just in case.

[The Beastkin Republic] Will They Know Respite?

Itsy

​
Titles:
Beastkin - Mundane, Small (4ft) - 6ecff6

The small beastkin eyes widened as Varius offered him his shoulders. "I do... t-thank you." He answered him quickly, getting on top of the legionaire's shoulder and sitting on it. "I'm ready!"

[Aslan - The Grand Duchy] The Starry Entrance

The Hall of Refractions yielded at last.

As Sa’Saori moved to correct the crystal’s position and Alicia’s gravity magic took hold, the great prism answered with a long, resonant hum. It dipped just enough, settling into the lower line glimpsed within the false mirror, and at once the wandering beams drew into order. Light lanced outward in clean, deliberate paths, striking one hidden sigil after another along the wall beside the sealed archway. Each glyph flared to life in turn, silver first, then violet, then a pale blue-white that spread through the crystal plates like veins of moonlight.

For a brief moment the entire chamber shone. The mirrors around the room caught the completed pattern and reflected it back upon itself until the whole hall seemed wrapped in a single luminous design. Then came a clear chime, far softer than any alarm, and the interlocking plates of the sealed door folded inward with smooth, soundless grace.

Beyond lay a narrower passage of translucent crystal, its floor suspended over the same quiet void as before. The calm of the first room lingered only until the group crossed the threshold.

The next chamber was broader, circular again, but built for a different lesson. The floor was divided into raised rings and shallow channels of light, giving it the look of an arcane dueling floor. Four humanoid constructs stood motionless around the arena, each formed of pale lacquered metal and etched with geometric runes. They were slender rather than bulky, shaped like disciplined practice guardians rather than soldiers.

The moment the Magenta group entered, the runes along their bodies ignited.

Heads lifted in perfect unison. Limbs unlocked with crisp mechanical clicks. One by one, the constructs turned toward the new arrivals, and the chamber’s light dimmed just enough to make the arena feel smaller than it was.

[Widersia] Big Dom’s Champion

By the time Marcus rejoined them, Brass Lantern’s smoked windows and tailored guards were close enough to remind everyone that this side of the district wore its danger with cleaner cuffs.

At Marcus’s question, Piero adjusted his bright tie and glanced toward the entrance. “Public knowledge? No. Public suspicion? Very much so. In a district like this, odds move faster than gossip and gossip moves faster than plague. People know something happened. They do not know what, and Dom would like to keep it that way a little longer.”

Hwicce’s question drew a low mechanical click from Gears as she folded her metal arms. “If they’re innocent, they’ll lie because rich businesses always lie first. If they’re guilty, they’ll lie better.” Her grin sharpened. “So yes, we can go through the front door. We just shouldn’t expect the truth to be waiting there with a smile.”

Piero nodded once. “Civil gets us inside. Names get us watched. Threats get us nowhere unless we’re ready to make a scene, and this is not Dom’s turf. Here, they hide knives behind invoices.” He looked over the party, then back to the doors. “So we ask simple questions. About the wagon. About last night. About who leased it. We let them pretend this is respectable business.”

Gears tilted her hat back. “And if respectable business gets rude, then my part starts.”

Piero sighed through his nose.

“Yes. We are all deeply aware of when your part starts.”

[Widersia] Big Dom’s Champion

Titles: Prime, Prime - Mundane - ed1c24

Hwicce scratched his beard for a moment as Marcus posed the question of how the people of the Brass Lantern Private Hire might react. "Guess that will depend on if they are in it or not. Then comes whether whatever they tell us is the truth or not. Folks tend not to lie when you press a blade to their throat." The mercenary crossed his arms. "But you two know this city best. What do you say?" He asked both Piero and Gears.

[The Beastkin Republic] Will They Know Respite?

Itsy

​
Titles:
Beastkin - Mundane, Small (4ft) - 6ecff6

Seeing KaMara going after the undead commander, Itsy had no hope of catching up with them. Instead, the Shrewsketeer chose to finish the job he had gone after the torch for. Carefully, as careful as someone can be while being an arsonist anyway, he began setting fire to the corpses of the undead creatures. "There you go... now you all can r-rest in peace..." He murmured as the fire began crackling on the pile he had set alight.

Actions:
1-3 - Setting the undead corpses on fire

[Widersia] Big Dom’s Champion

Piero crouched beside the mud-caked plate and scraped the last of the dirt free with his thumbnail. “This is Brass Lantern Private Hire. They run enclosed coaches and lantern wagons for wealthy track patrons, sponsors, and anybody rich enough to want discretion with upholstery.” His eyes lifted to Hwicce. “So yes. Either they were hired, stolen from, or somebody wanted us to find this.”

Gears rolled one massive shoulder, amber light pulsing in the joints of her gauntlet. “Meaning we got a company to visit.” She tipped her fedora lightly toward Elora. “Pleasure’s mine, Lady Vaelthorne. And for the record, I also prefer jobs that don’t end in a brawl. They just never ask me what I prefer.”

Behind them, Elora’s gentle pressure finally got another scrap from Nino. “I saw one of those wagons yesterday,” he admitted, pointing weakly at the faceplate. “Late. South side. Curtains drawn. I thought it was a sponsor pickup.” At that, Piero stared at Freyic for a full beat as he began his breathtaking explanation about magic. “Remarkable,” he said flatly. “And from this dazzling lecture, I gather nobody here can track through city streets by magic.”

Hwicce’s conclusion hung there plainly enough. The road would have swallowed the trail. The wagon company would not.

Gears cracked her metal knuckles with a whir. “Then Brass Lantern it is.”

Piero rose, smoothing his tie. “Good. Their office is three streets over, near the betting arcades. If they leased that wagon, we ask questions. If they lie, Gears stops being decorative.”

Gears grinned.

“I was wondering when my part started.”

---

The route to Brass Lantern Private Hire took them out of the stable quarter and into a cleaner slice of the racing district, where money stopped pretending to be practical and started dressing itself up. The streets here were broader, the lamps brighter, and the storefronts polished to a shine that made even nighttime feel curated. Betting arcades buzzed with soft, constant noise behind brass-framed windows. Men in tailored coats stood beneath awnings discussing odds like priests debating doctrine. Even the horses hitched along the avenue looked brushed within an inch of vanity.

Brass Lantern stood near the corner of a crescent-shaped street, its frontage done in lacquered black wood and gold trim, with tall windows of smoked glass that revealed very little of the interior. Elegant script curled across the sign above the doors. Not gaudy. Worse. Confident. The sort of place that expected its customers to already know its rates and not ask twice.

Two men stood outside beneath the lanterns, both broad through the shoulders and dressed in dark coats too well fitted to be ordinary doormen. One held a cigarette between two fingers and watched the street without seeming to watch it. The other had the posture of a man who knew exactly how much trouble he could legally pass off as security work. Neither wore colors, badges, or anything so crude as open allegiance.

Still, the message was plain enough.

This was not Calabrese ground.

A row of sleek enclosed coaches sat along the side yard beyond an iron fence, each polished, crested, and attended. Stableboys moved briskly under the eyes of clerks. A pair of well-dressed patrons emerged laughing from the main office, only for that laughter to die the moment they noticed Piero and Gears among the approaching party. One of them muttered something to the other and both got moving again with the quick, practiced discretion of people who recognized a brewing inconvenience and wanted no part of it.

Piero slowed just enough for the others to feel the change in air.

“Now,” he said quietly, adjusting his tie, “we are no longer somewhere people are afraid of being rude to us.”

Gears rolled her neck once, the joints in her gauntlets giving a low mechanical click.

“Good,” she said with a grin. “I was getting worried the city had no standards.”

Summarization: The group followed a new lead - the faceplate that pointed them to Brass Lantern Private Hire. They now stand in front of the main office. The choice on how to approach it remains to be decided.

[Widersia] Big Dom’s Champion

Titles: Prime, Prime - Mundane - ed1c24

Hwicce arched one eyebrow as the kid suddenly began explaining about magic all of a sudden, crossing his arms over his chest. "'Suppose that means no one here has any tracking magic." The mercenary leaned closer, trying to get a better look at it.

"Not yours, huh?" Saying so, his eyes slide to both Piero and Gears. "Whose is it then? Either they facilitated what happened, have answers, or could very well be involved." Following the owner of it seemed to be the order of business.