CHAPTER 1
MONTH OF CLANS
Corvo found something about the streets lights to be very calming. He'd never had them as a child- Serkonos was still very backwards in its ways, and even the city lamps were kept alight by thick candles in glass cases- nothing like these electrical marvels, powered by whale oil, jokingly referred to as the "blood of the Outsider". The Marked were not so keen on its use, and had campaigned heavily against its widespread adoption, to no avail. The Marked were powerful, as a whole and as individuals, but they were not as strong as progress and convenience.
Regardless, Corvo appreciated the lamps. They were lovely and bright and illuminated his path home.
The streets were quiet. Many windows were shuttered. A number of white, wilted petals edged the sidewalks, stomped into crevices and cracks, small reminders of the funeral that had passed. He expected Emily would want to tell him all about it. A few guards ambled along their patrols, but otherwise there was no one about. Corvo instinctively avoided them- his face was not widely known to the public, and he was doing nothing questionable (currently), but he stuck to his habits. He slid into an ally and continued on his way.
He'd been gone a while- this job had been... tricky. Keep the target alive, take them wherever you deem fit, get them out of Dunwall, but whatever you do, do not kill them. There was really only one person you could go to for a job like that. It required to much finesse for a thug or an assassin. No. If you wanted someone to disappear, you spoke to Blue Jess, and her Shadow would do the job.
Some young would-be heir's brother was usually the target, or some politician that might be useful to have around later. It wasn't common business, but it was profitable.
He could hear coughing from the ally- some sickly vagabond, all to common in the city. Corvo had long since learned to ignore them, and he breezed by without much thought. When they tugged at the hem of his coat, Corvo jerked it away and continued. When the vagabond grabbed his ankle, Corvo spun and ground his other heel into the man's wrist.
The sound the man made at this was ghastly, and Corvo stumbled back in shock- The ally was not well lit, but he could make out the silhouette of someone getting jerkily to their feet, sliding up the wall for balance.
"Stay down, I'm only passing through."
The man didn't seem to heed Corvo's warning, and instead lurched toward him, moaning. Corvo retreated a few more steps- he had no interest in fighting the homeless, especially not in the dark. A few more paces and Corvo was bathed in lamp light again, with his tag-along not far behind.
Their mouth was flecked with black, and their eyes were red. Maroon track marks had worn down his cheeks, as though his tears were rusted. He stumbled about in an ungainly manner, and not once did he let up his moaning. He reached a dirty hand out to Corvo, who could only bat it away in shock.
The man lunged for him, and Corvo swung his arm up, catching the man in the throat and slamming him into the wall. His skull cracked, and Corvo thought he saw blood on the bricks. He let the man drop, and went back along his way.
He hadn't too much further to go- Bottle Street was near to the heart of the city, and there were a thousand ways to end up on its cobblestones. He hadn't realized how fast he'd been going until he found himself breathing heavily on the doorstep he called base and home. He fumbled a bit with the key, and let himself in.
Jessamine, or "Blue Jess" as some called her, had bought the building when their old base in the basement of a bar grew too small to hold their growing gang. Some days it felt like they were going to outgrow this one too. A single candle guttered on a side table, casting shadows on the men who had fallen asleep on the couch. Corvo blew it out and continued down the hall and up the stairs. Four flights up, and he could hear voices.
"Do you really believe it's going to get that bad?"
"It already has. I've been ferrying people out as far as Potterstead for weeks now. More coin than I ever saw in the navy."
"I'm flattered that you're looking to share."
"It's becoming more and more dangerous out there. I nearly lost my head to some madman who insisted he was getting a free ride out of this wretched city."
"And did he?"
"Er, in a manner of speaking."
A rap on the doorframe, and Jessamine looked up. "Corvo. Do come in."
Jessamine's office was moderately sized- a converted bedroom that had several papers tacked up to the walls- jobs that her gang had been hired to do, notes she had taken on rival leaders, wanted posters and ads and even a few childish drawings all had their places. The windows were shuttered. Jessamine herself was bent over her table, a pen in one hand while the other pinned a bit of paper to the surface. She was meticulous, in a way. She kept notes on everything.
Seated across from her was a burly looking man with a scar under his left eye. He looked to be in his forties, broad-chested- if it weren't for the way he held himself Corvo might have written him off as an average brute.
Corvo took his place quietly behind Jessamine. She didn't bother introducing him to the man, but returned to business. "So you want protection, is that it?"
"I can take care of myself, it's my customers I'm not so sure of."
Jessamine nodded and scratched something down. "Very well then. For now we'll take two-thirds profit. You can lodge here or on your own, although if you lodge here I won't make you pay rent. And you'll be fed." she turned the paper around and pushed it toward the man. "I'll need your mark here."
"Two thirds- that's ridiculous!"
"These are ridiculous times. I'm making a generous offer- most of my men split a tenth of the profit on any single job they take, plus their monthly cut of the overall intake. If you're venture is as profitable as you claim, that's far more than them. I understand that you are the only one capable of doing this job at this time, so like I said, I'm being generous. You won't get a more fair offer from the Wolfhound or that bastard on Charles Street. Feel free to try."
The man picked up the pen hesitantly, his face set in a tight grimace. He traced a wobbly looking 'X' where Jessamine pointed. She tutted to herself, but made no comment. Instead she held out her hand. "Welcome aboard, Farley. You're one of us now."
Farley's hand engulfed Jessamine's. She nodded. "The men's rooms are two floors down- you're welcome to sleep in any empty bunk you find, blankets and pillows are in the closet. Someone will be awake to point them out, I assure you."
"If it's all the same," he replied, "I'll be bunking in my boat."
"Very well then. Make sure to spread the word that folks can come to me if they're looking to leave the city. I'll do my part. You do yours."
Farley made a stiff sort of nod, and left. Jessamine shuffled the papers around on her desk for a bit, then crumpled the "contract" Farley had signed and tossed it into the bin.
"'One of us now'?"
"If the man knows he's on probation, then he'll be on his best behavior. If I tell him he's already in, I'll get to see what he's really like under pressure."
"Maybe he's a spy."
"Maybe." She stretched. "We'll see soon enough. Enjoy your trip?"
"Serkonos is lovely this time of year. The company, not so much."
"I see your accent is coming back." She stepped toward him and laced her fingers through his. "I missed that."
Corvo smiled. "Well, I'll try to hang onto it this time."
Jessamine laughed. "It sounds awful when you force it like that. Did you have any trouble on the way home?"
"I ran into a sickly looking man in an alley- think he went mad, poor-"
Jessamine immediately pulled back. "Was he sick on you?"
"What?"
"Did he bite you?" She grabbed his wrist and rolled the sleeve up, inspecting his arm. "We'll have to burn this coat."
"Are you mad?" Corvo yanked his arm away. Jessamine scowled.
"Listen, you remember that bug that was going around when you left? The one Gordy got?"
"Y-yes, a seasonal flu-"
"Not a flu. Worse than that, we don't even know what is is yet. Rumor has it that's what killed the Emperor. Was the man you met vomiting black?"
"I didn't see-"
"Was he bleeding from the eyes?" Her voice was worried, but forceful.
"I, I don't know, perhaps-"
"Take off your clothes."
"What?"
"Strip, Corvo."
Confused, he did as she said. He shucked his coat and was pulling his shirt over his head when he heard a voice from the door. "Mommy? What's going on?"
"Go back to bed sweetie."
"Corvo! You're back!"
"Bed, Emily, now!" Jessamine snapped. Corvo heard footsteps fleeing down the hall, and a door closing shut. Jessamine turned back to Corvo. "Throw those in the fireplace."
"I think you're overreacting."
"Gordy's dead, Corvo. He died of this... disease only a couple weeks after you left. It's nasty business, and I'm not taking that chance."
Corvo unbuckled his belt and tossed his outfit where he was told. It occurred to him that it was actually a bit nippy tonight, despite it being the warm months, and standing buck naked in an attic room was perhaps not the most ideal of circumstances.
Jessamine left the room and returned with a box of matches and a red tube. "Drink this." She shoved the tube into Corvo's hands and struck a match.
"Do you have to? It's a nice coat."
"No chances." She dropped the match into the cloth and struck a second one for good measure.
Corvo, meanwhile, was struggling between opening the tube and protecting his dignity. "How do you open this?"
Jessamine grabbed the tube again, turned it right-side up and twisted the cap off. "Stand up straight, Corvo, it's nothing I haven't seen."
The liquid in the vial was quite a bit thicker than Corvo anticipated- he choked on it and sputtered. Jessamine thumped him on the back and insisted he keep drinking. It was almost gel-like, but he managed to down the entire tube. He wiped his mouth. "Tastes like old leaves."
"It's cheaper than the Piero stuff. I hear he makes it out of river krusts."
"Disgusting."
She rubbed his shoulders. "You should be fine now. Get some rest." Corvo laid his head on top of hers. "In your own room. Until we're sure you weren't infected."
