2nd day of Ransalacue, 5571A Swan Street
Talantier, The Divided Lands
Five times, the church bells of Talantier rang out, solemnly marking the passage of time.
As the last chime faded, Sebastian Sanders raised his hooded head to peer at the afternoon sky. It was darker than usual under its current blanket of low clouds that were charcoal gray overhead but tinged with red towards the western horizon.
The clouds had arrived quickly, spreading out to cover the whole sky within an hour of their return to the city. The breezes, still not abating, were strong enough to blow leaves and assorted city detritus along the streets.
"Don't like this weather," Sanders growled. "Something not right about it."
The others looked at the barbarian, but Sebastian, obviously having difficulty putting any further thoughts into speech, merely shook his head and said nothing more.
The seven walked on in an uncomfortable silence.
Qidarchios, observant by nature as all bards were, could hardly help but notice the reaction to their group from passers-by. All eyes almost always went first to Lumen, whose obvious beauty, nearly white skin and golden hair were captivating in the extreme. Most of the rest of their team were fairly nondescript, especially for a cosmopolitan city like Talantier but Sebastian Sanders, or "Seb" as his friend Oliver called him, was another matter entirely.
While the barbarian wore a large black travelling cloak that covered his stunted wings, it made him appear hunchbacked. That, combined with his bronze-tinted skin, made for an impressive if not unnerving sight. Dark was intensely curious about Seb's backstory but as of yet neither he nor Oliver had made any move to broach the subject, so the elf made no move to do so either.
"You're the closest thing to a Talantier native we have amongst us, Caffrine," said Illumenatta at length, smiling at her cousin. "What do you know about these Dromdals?"
The teenager frowned as she thought. "Not much," she responded. "Like that lieutenant said, there's only three of them left in the city, so I'd guess they're well past their prime. I think they made most of their money buying and selling exotic woods and items made from them, like furniture. Someone said they have, or used to have, exclusive contracts with artisans living in a village called Turvin, east of here."
"I'm impressed," Lumen said with a raised eyebrow.
Caffrine looked at the moon elf curiously.
"Not with them; with you, my dear," she continued with another smile. "You obviously have contacts other than street level ones."
The half-elf, however, shook her head. Her frown deepened.
"That's exactly who they were. The Nightsong Guild. They were discussing whether to burgle their mansion or not."
Saito Takahashi stopped in his tracks.
"Nightsong Guild?" he asked gruffly. "Thieves?"
Caffrine also stopped, as did the others. The teen crossed her arms across her chest and scowled at the samurai.
"Yes," she replied. "And to answer the question that's none of your business but are about to ask anyway, no, I'm not a member. Never was. I've done some fingersmithing; done whatever I've had to do to survive. Had to turn over a percentage of my take over to them to remain independent, so I did. You have a problem with any of that?"
"I have a question with it," Takahashi continued, clearly not backing down. "Are you still a thief?"
Caffrine narrowed her eyes.
"Not," she said slowly, "for the past twenty-four hours."
Lumen and Dark stepped forward at the same time. The two elven bards looked at each other, and then Dark gave his cousin a guilty smile and a slight bow, gesturing for her to go first.
"My good sir," Illumenatta said to the samurai, "we all realize that Caffrine did what she had to out of necessity, not desire. Let us remember that we are all united in our desire to find this girl's sister and then to determine if her mother still lives or not. Then, we can finally bring about her family reunion with either mother or grandfather and she will have no further need of her thieving skills."
Takahashi clearly did not seem swayed by this argument, but the wood elf made a gesture that indicated he would no longer bring up the issue.
"If I may," said Qidarchios, pulling forth a piece of vellum from his belt pouch. "Young Caffrine here mentioned the Nightsong Guild. We've all heard, or rather seen, that name before."
Save Caffrine, the other five individuals all recognized the note the elven bard held. It was the one taken from Gareth's body that referenced the Nightsong Guild. They all clustered around Dark and reread it.
Except Sebastian. The barbarian affected a show of indifference but Lumen, Dark, Takahashi, Bjorn and Caffrine could plainly see he did not know how to read.
Naturally, no one voiced this observation aloud.
"Johann," Bjorn mused, looking over at Caffrine. "Do you know him?"
The half-elf took a deep breath and nodded. While earlier she had been angry, now she looked uncomfortable, nervous.
"Yes. He's my contact; my liaison with the Nightsong. Most of my interactions with the guild have been through him. It makes sense; Johann handles a lot of their financial transactions; at least the lower to mid-level ones. He's smart; has a good head for numbers and for making deals."
"Does anything else about this note make sense to you?" asked Dark. "It didn't to any of us. Know who this Hawkins might be?"
Caffrine shook her head. "No. And I don't understand the rest of it, either. I've never heard of the Neutral Forces."
She hesitated.
"But that last bit; about a mighty host. That bothers me. Sounds like he's talking about an army of some kind."
Sebastian snorted. "If those four were any sample, I don't think we have anything to fear from this so-called host. They went down quickly enough."
Oliver noticed that Bjorn now sported an incredulous expression on his face, and it was obvious to the mage that the cleric was recalling how he'd had to save Seb after the barbarian had fallen in that same battle, but he caught Sigmundson's eye and shook his head slightly. Bjorn shot Athraite a disgusted look but kept silent.
Dark said nothing more as he restored the note to his belt pouch and started walking again. The others followed. Lumen knew what her cousin was thinking and had to agree with him.
A well-oiled machine, we are not. The samurai hates the rogue, and it's only a matter of time before Seb and Bjorn come to blows. Perhaps after this Slicer business is done and we get Caffrine reunited with her sister and out of Talantier, it would be best if we all went our separate ways.
Yet as logical as that course of action sounded, the idea of going through with it brought no relief to the moon elf. There was an odd kind of ache in Lumen's heart but its nature was almost impossible to put into words.
And for a bard, that was a very rare thing indeed.
It was the idea of losing something that she'd not yet found.
"This place has seen better years," Sebastian noted.
"Better decades," Oliver added.
The others found no cause to disagree. The Dromdal mansion was certainly impressive enough for its size; a two-story wooden square over a hundred feet to a side plus a large gated garden, but everything about the place reeked of neglect if not outright decay. Pale olive paneling, dark brown and green shingles and shutters the color of pine needles gave the place the mien of a swamp. Chipped marble steps flanked by twin lion sculptures led from the street to a columned porch that wrapped around the front and right side of the house.
Every window that they could see was either shuttered or tightly drawn with heavy curtains, as if the inhabitants detested the idea of even the smallest crack of sunlight penetrating within.
Bjorn Sigmundson looked down to find his hand tightly clasped over his holy symbol of Balder- a silver chalice. He smiled at his own foolishness and released it.
"Well," said Illumenatta, smiling a not-quite-genuine-this-time-around smile at her companions, "I guess this is it."
She and Dark took the lead as they approached the steps, the others following.
Lumen had to confess that she liked how she and Qidarchios seemed to, at least informally, taken the reins of leadership of their party. This was hardly surprising; bards by nature were charismatic and made good leaders, but in Lumen's mind the two of them somehow made what might be described as "anchors." Two solid sources of calming serenity to a group which was desperately crying out for it. She'd realized at the very beginning that "Illumenatta" and "Qidarchios" were human and elven names for "Light" and "Darkness" respectively. It wasn't a good-versus-evil contrast, though. It was a type of cosmic balance, she thought. Something that just might, if carefully nurtured, make the seven of them into more than just the sum of their parts.
And besides, she had to admit to herself with a shy smile, Dark was really cute.
The floorboards creaked loudly underneath their feet as the group ascended the porch. Lumen took one last deep breath and knocked.
Considering the size of the house and the reported scarcity of the people living within, the door was opened with remarkable speed.
A halfling looked up at them.
The hobbit was elderly; his skin was wrinkled and his hands shook slightly from palsy. He was bald save for a halo of white hair and clad in a faded brown suit.
He said absolutely nothing. He just looked at them, one after another. His expression seemed to vary somewhere between curiosity and befuddlement.
Dark cleared his throat.
"Good afternoon, my good fellow," he said, smiling warmly, "We have been appointed by Lieutenant Anderson of the City Guard to act as temporary protection for the Dromdal family. I believe you have been expecting us?"
If the halfling had been expecting them, he gave no sign of it. He continued to stare blankly at them. Dark was about to try again when a woman's' voice came from further back, past the short entranceway that the bard could glimpse behind the hobbit.
"Barnsworth? Are those the representatives from the guard?"
The owner of the voice was also elderly, that was clear. Yet it was still strong and vibrant, if perhaps a bit shrill.
"Yes, my lady," Barnsworth answered. His voice was as quiet as the woman's had been loud. If she heard him, she must have damn good hearing, Dark thought.
Apparently, she did.
"Well? Who are they?"
Barnsworth look back at them with a half-questioning, half-pleading look, but before Dark could reply, Illumenatta stepped forward.
"We are," she announced in a loud and ringing voice, "The Light in The Darkness!"
Lumen took a second to glance back at her fellow party members for their reaction to this unexpected announcement.
The moon half honestly hadn't planned it but it was done and there was no turning back now.
Dark, after a second, grinned widely.
Oliver merely looked curious.
Sebastian seemed to think for a moment and then shrugged.
Takahashi however, scowled at his fellow elves. "No, we're not," he hissed.
Bjorn's expression was one of acceptance.
Caffrine Esslos stared at her cousins and then rolled her eyes.
"Whatever," she said.
"Well, don't just stand there, Barnsworth!" the elderly voice that Lumen and Dark guessed must belong to Lady Dromdal called out. "Bring them in!"
Interesting, thought Bjorn Sigmundson. Not "invite" or "show" them in. Something tells me this assignment is not going to be a funfest.
He noticed as they all filed into the house that his hand had somehow closed over his holy symbol again.
