Chapter Four

Returning Home


Not long ago, this part of Dunwall had been known as the Rudshore Financial District, the financial heart of the Empire itself. But that was before the seawall broke, and unleashed a cataclysmic tide upon the district. It is known as the Flooded District now – a decaying cityscape where thugs attempt to rule with the same iron grip they have on Dunwall's back alleys, and unfortunate souls come to seek shelter from the prying eyes of the City Watch or the Abbey of the Everyman.

The district had also been a battleground in the days following the great flood. Everyone wanted a piece of the fallen Financial District. Yet, the worst of the battles had been fought between the looters and the aristocrats. Dunwall's poor are a vicious sort when they smell blood in the water – I've seen this behavior more than enough times since the Rat Plague began. Ultimately, I believe the looters won. They took whatever was not nailed down or destroyed. The aristocrats whose wealth was tied up in their mansions and artwork, well…they have fallen far from grace.

I should mention that the looters were not the only ones to prosper during all the chaos. It had taken several weeks, but under the leadership of our Master, we had displaced a group who had taken up residence in the old Chamber of Commerce building, claiming it, as well as the Greaves Refinery, for ourselves. I mean, in all fairness…those people should not have expected to win the battle against us. We have magic, they did not. The most damage they did was shooting Feodor in the leg and giving him a bit of a limp, and Connor broke his arm cartwheeling into a table in an attempt to avoid being run through with a kitchen knife.

No matter how badly the rival gangs want our territories, they will never take them from us. They are starting to learn that now. In fact, Central Rudshore is getting a reputation for being haunted by dark figures in strange masks. The legend says that if you approach the Rudshore Rail Station or linger too long on Agroosh Way, you will disappear, never to be seen or heard from again.

Thinking about that rumor makes me want to roll my eyes. Humans, as a whole, are so gullible! It is astounding. Haunted? Ha! Sure, okay. No one actually suspects that people are living here? Honestly, I think we are just being friendly. After all, nothing says "Hello, neighbor!" like a wristbow bolt in the gut. And it is not our fault that there are plenty of hagfish just waiting to be fed.

Sorry, I digress.

Anyway, Master Daud had his eyes on Central Rudshore for more than just the security it offered. There is a tunnel network that runs underneath the Chamber of Commerce building. Both the Rudshore Gate and the Rail Station require a key to access. The Rail Station key is passed amongst the highest ranking assassins of our brotherhood, who are assigned to sentry duty that day. The Rudshore Gate key is held only by Master Daud, which can be infuriating at times when our contracts require that we leave through the Gate, and we have to ask him to unlock it for us. If Master Daud is in one of his moods, well…

It does not always go as smoothly as it should, let's put it that way.

Perhaps things will change, now that the Empress is dead.

Master Daud and I were using the tunnel network now, to get back to the commerce building. The tunnels are like a labyrinth – long, twisting, and dark. All the clichés one would typically expect of such a place. They also stank of mould, death, and River Krust. Water leaked through the stone walls, splashing against puddles formed on the ground in that vexatious drip-drop, drip-drip, drop-drip.

I was keeping a steady pace beside my Master, surreptitiously keeping my gaze on him. Something about his demeanor was off, and I knew not why. It bothered me. It always bothered me…

"I know when I'm being watched, Arissa," Master Daud said suddenly, his voice eerily reverberating off the tunnel's walls.

"Forgive me, Master." I averted my gaze from him. "You just seem…troubled, is all. Have I done something to displease you?"

"Not today, no."

"Then may I inquire as to what is wrong, Master?"

"No. It's nothing that concerns you."

"As you wish."

I have known Master Daud since I was a little girl – ten years old, if I am being specific. I have been a Whaler since the fourteenth day of the Month of Songs, 1829. This will be my eighth year in service to the Whalers. And in these long years, experience has taught me that if Master Daud does not want to be pressed on a particular topic, then do not press him. Still, I cannot help but wonder what is going through his head. It is not like him to be leaden.

Hmm. No. Even that does not properly describe it…but I suppose it will have to suffice for the moment.

After what seemed to be an eternity of walking in unnerving silence, we came to the Rudshore Gate. Master Daud reached into his bolt pouch, producing the key for it. He unlocked the door, and gestured for me to step through the threshold. I did, and I nodded my thanks. After he walked through, he relocked the Gate, and stowed away the key once more.

"I'll have need of you soon, Arissa," he said. "But for now, you're dismissed. Try to get some rest in the meantime."

"Yes, Master," I replied, placing my right fist on my chest, slashing it downwards to my side. This was our bow, though it was typically performed with sword in hand.

Drawing in a small amount of mana, I transversed up to the commerce building. I took off my vapor mask, threading its straps through my belt. Then, I shook out my jaw-length copper curls, trying to get them to stop clinging to my face. It is the one thing I never really considered back at the Asylum, when I was still a Novice and Master Daud had shorn my hair down to nothing more than mere fuzz. My hair and my vapor mask are now at perpetual war with one another.

In our former home, my Novice brothers and I used to share the old room where trepanations were performed. Sometimes, late in the night, I swear that you could hear the sickening sound of bone being broken by a hand drill. Each time someone said they heard that noise, they woke up with clumps of their hair on their pillow. No one knew what in the Void kept happening to us as we slept. And to be fair, we still do not really know why so many horrific things kept happening to us in that place. Not only to us, but to the Master Assassins as well – though their experiences vastly differed from ours.

As Whalers, we are trained that we have to look professional, both with the mask and without. So, it was not unusual that we Novices got the short end of the stick, so to speak. I actually had spent most of the year looking like a boy. Do not get me wrong. I am actually not complaining. Not completely. I somewhat enjoyed the little escapade. It amused me more than anything. I just hated how everyone wanted to touch my head. And how much those shears had hurt…I swear, I have scars on my scalp now, thanks to them.

Since then, though, I had been letting my hair grow back to its current length. Now that it was back at my preferred length, it just stuck to my face whenever I had to put my mask on. On sentry duty, it was one thing – I could at least duck behind something for the briefest moment to fix it. Out in the field, it is frustrating. Very, very frustrating…

…What is that noise?

I crept towards the training area, careful not to step on one of the creaking floorboards. My boots were coated in a special resin that eliminated almost all the sound I made, even when running. Yet, creaking floorboards would still give my presence away, if I did not distribute my weight correctly. Hiding behind one of the glass panels separating the training area from the hallway, I peered inside.

Billie Lurk sat on the floor, wrapping Fergus's body in a burial shroud. Carlo's body still needed to be shrouded. The lieutenant had her mask off, and I caught a glimpse of turquoise eyeshadow running down her cheeks.

"You just had to go and die, didn't you?" I heard her say. "You just had to leave me stuck with them…"

Billie Lurk and I have a mutual, fervent hatred of one another. It has been that way since we were kids – or at least, I a kid and she a teenager. We have clashed more than once, with various results. Unfortunately for me, she is still my sister and my superior. I have to at least try to care about her.

Even though I really do not want to.

I stepped into the room, intentionally stepping on a creaking floorboard to announce my presence. Lurk looked up at me with those deep brown eyes of hers. I was surprised that none of her usual abhorrence for me was in her expression. Though, my instincts told me that she was hiding it. After all, Billie Lurk has a reputation to uphold – that being one of a self-centered bitch.

"What do you want, runt?" she said in her usual tone of voice, reserved special just for me. "Come to laugh at me?"

"I should be," I replied bluntly. "And if this was any other occasion, then I would be. You would do the exact same thing to me. Yet, I will not disrespect our fallen, nor will I ridicule you for your closeness to Fergus."

"I didn't believe him, you know…" she murmured after a few moments of silence.

I raised an eyebrow.

"When Daud said that they were dead," Lurk sighed deeply. "From the start, I knew that bringing them along would be worthless. That they'd slow us down. And I was right. You should have made yourself useful, Arissa. You should have been the one to die instead of them."

I crossed my arms, my lips curling into a smile. "If the Royal Protector had not had his back to me when I transversed onto the pavilion, I would be lying right there next to them."

"The Royal Protector? What are you talking about? He wasn't even there."

"You mean to say that Master Daud has not told you yet? How…interesting."

"Tell me, Arissa," she growled.

"Poor dear. What, did you think the City Watch killed Carlo and Fergus? No, they did not. Corvo Attano did, because his skill surpassed theirs."

Lurk scoffed, but said nothing.

"This is ridiculous, Lieutenant," I said. "What I have ever done to you, to make you hate me so?"

"You're still alive, and two assassins better than you are dead."

"Ha! You are funny. Truly, you are. But even for you, Billie, that is incredibly low." I turned on my heel, and started to walk out of the room.

"Wait, Arissa…Wait."

I stopped mid-stride, though I did not turn around to face her.

When she spoke, I had to strain to hear what was spoken. "Will you…will you help me shroud them?"

I purposely delayed giving her an answer.

"Will you?"

"Help you? No. I will not help you," I said. "I will do what any good leader would do, and help to lay the mortal bodies of those under my command to rest."

I transversed over to Carlo's body, and sat down on my knees. I pulled the burial shroud next to me, and I began to peel away his uniform. The first thing I saw was the gruesome gunshot wound. The Royal Protector was a scarily good shot, yes, but there should not be damage of this magnitude…

I shook my head, continuing on my grim task. This was not worth dwelling on right now.

When I freed the shirt from Carlo's torso, I discovered a bone charm. It began to emit its high-pitched moan, its "song." Yet, the song did not quite sound right. Believe me, I have heard it plenty of times before – I still occasionally hear that of my own. But this…This was different than what I am used to hearing. Like it was…tainted? Harsher? I should remove it last.

Although, perhaps a single touch will not hurt anything…

I reached out with my left hand, yet I stopped myself with my right.

"No," I said under my breath.

The charm's song grew louder, and louder still. It was as though it were calling to me. Trying to get me to claim it as my own. As far as I knew, no one could claim a previously bound bone charm…

"Aren't you done yet?" Lurk snapped, and I heard her footsteps behind me. "You're kidding me, right? You're not even close to done. And why do you keep staring at his bone charm like that?"

I shrugged. Truthfully, I did not have an answer. I also was not about to tell her that.

"Remove it and be done with it already."

Backing me into a corner, hmm? If I do not follow your order, you will go to Master Daud and tell him that I disobeyed you – and who will he listen to, his lieutenant or his commander? If I do follow your order, you are exercising your power over me.

Thus, I lose either way. Brilliant. And cowardly. Mostly the latter.

Without any other options, I untied the bone charm from around Carlo's neck. Even the shape of the thing was unnatural. But just holding it in my hand, I felt very sick. The song kept intensifying to the point of being deafening, and the charm itself began to emit a faint, purple light.

What is…what is happening?

Suddenly, a firm hand grasped mine, quickly removing the charm from it. I coughed, and put my hand against my forehead. It felt like all the world was spinning…spinning…

"What were you thinking, Arissa?" Master Daud asked. Firm hand…Should have known… "This thing is dangerous. It has more power in it than you should be handling."

I am going to look like a child for doing this, but… "She made me do it!" I pointed at Lurk. "I did not want to, but she backed me into a corner…"

Master Daud glared in Lurk's direction. "You could have killed her with this, Billie. Out of all the days you choose to do this, you do so on the day of our greatest victory? On the day we must bury two of our own?" He paused. "I'm more than disappointed with you. Get out of my sight. And while you're at it, do something useful and prepare the funeral pyre. I'll be finishing up here."

I heard Lurk growl under her breath, yet she did not speak. I also heard her transverse away.

"I never should have tried to help her." I stood up, albeit shakily, and brushed the dirt off of my trousers. "If I may ask, Master, what is that charm?"

"It's a purchase I regret making in Karnaca," he replied, looking at me with a gaze I could not quite discern. "It's a corrupted bone charm."

"They can be corrupted, Master?"

"Yes, though I'm not quite certain how. There was a woman in Karnaca who figured out how to crack the charms apart and fuse them back together again. This particular charm, she swore that it would cause sharp metal to break on my skin. And it did."

"It sounds like it would be a useful tool to have in our trade."

"It was, but it wasn't worth the cost. Each time it worked, one of my teeth would turn black and fall out. After the third time, I gave it to Carlo. Apparently, the charm only worked against swords, not bullets."

"What has the charm done to him, then? That bullet wound is far more gruesome than it should be. And what does it want with me?"

"Carlo was beginning to rot. Now that he's dead, I suspect that the charm is looking for a new host to attach itself to. Namely, you. I don't know why it chose you, but you have two options. You can either keep it, letting it slowly rot you from the inside out, or you can destroy it. For your sake, I suggest destroying it."

"Master, can I even handle the ritual? My power is nowhere near as strong as yours."

"Speaking bluntly, I don't believe that you can, but I'm willing to be proven wrong on this one. Fergus's charm will need to be destroyed anyways. Now this one does as well, especially if you don't want to become something worse than a Weeper."

I nodded. "You need not convince me to destroy the charm, Master. I will. I have no desire to turn into a thing of nightmares." Not since I already am one, in the eyes of many…

"A wise decision," he replied. "Now, go. As I said to Lurk, I'll finish up here. I'll send someone to get you when we're about ready to begin the funeral."

"Yes, Master," I said, and walked out of the room.

I climbed out the window of the commerce building, dropping down onto the accessway below. I walked across it, until I reached a rooftop with a lone window and several metal crates beneath it. This was my quarters, which I shared with Kieron. Initially, I was supposed to be sharing it with Aeolos, but Kieron insisted on staying close to me after we moved from the Asylum to the Flooded District. It was safer for everyone that way.

This room, though on the small side, had two twin-sized beds, some shelves above the beds, and a table. We were close to the Rail Station, and we also had three ways of exiting the room: a balcony that could get you onto the highest rooftops; the window I just entered through; and our ability to transverse.

In the Flooded District, it is not wise to be alone – even in Central Rudshore. While our base was more intact than the rest of the district, a lot of work had still needed to be done to alter the area to better suit our needs. There were still vast amounts of water damage, yes. Yet, compared to some of the other buildings I have seen, it could have been far worse. The only serious issue we have so far is the rat swarms. We take that as a small victory…more or less.

I unsheathed my blade, setting it down on the table. Then, I unattached my wristbow from its track on my left forearm, setting it – along with my bolt pouches – down next to my blade. I got a clean cloth off of the bookshelf above my bed, and I took my blade firmly by the hilt, gingerly running the cloth over the razor-sharp blade. Once it was clean, I placed it back down on the table, and placed the bloodied cloth in a laundry box. Then, I placed that box back on the shelf, and I collapsed onto my bed.

Today has been a very long day. Not only had I helped to kill an Empress, but I will be performing a very dangerous ritual soon. So, I think that entitles me to a nice, long nap…