Edit: sorry for anyone who gets a notification about this chapter getting updated. Typo correction when working on a future chapter. Nothing further. Carry on! ~MGA
Chapter 14: Meet the Weepers
27th of Month of High Cold, 1837
8:13 AM
The knock at my door has me reaching for my blade before I realize what woke me. I stop myself from extending it, but keep the handle in my grip.
Callista enters the room slowly. Nervous politeness, if I had to guess. "Good morning, Lord Corvo," she says with a warm smile.
Disguising it as a waking stretch, I reach back and make sure Jessamine is hidden. She's gone, just like the last time I woke up. "That remains to be seen," I mutter. "Havelock sent you, I assume?"
She nods. "Yes, he has a task for you, and then wishes to discuss your next mission."
"Martin and Piero must have finished with the journal. Did they tell you anything?" I ask, collecting my clothes from the window. The breeze from last night dried them completely.
"Only that you should to bring your equipment. They wish for you to leave after breakfast."
I grunt as I check the pockets and belt of my suit. Everything is still there, ready for another infiltration. All I need is coffee and a target to start the day.
"If I may?" she asks with a small stutter, picking at her nails. "Did you find my uncle last night?"
I didn't tell her, or anyone else last night. Whoops. "Geoff should be fine. You were right, Campbell aimed to poison him. He'll be delayed getting back to the Watch, but he should be home safe tonight."
Even from across the room, I can hear her sigh and laugh of relief. "Thank you, Corvo. I'm not sure I can ever-"
"Find a way to tell him you're safe," I interrupt. My stare matches her surprised eyes. "He asked me to find you last night. I told him you were safe and with us, but I doubt he believed me. I suggest a note delivered by courier. Include something personal only the two of you know, that I'm helping you, and don't give away anything about our location. We will be even if you can do that."
Her silence lasts a few more moments, but she smiles and nods eventually. "I will, but we will not be even. A note can't repay you for saving his life."
I laugh, then start to change shirts. "Call it a start, then. If you can convince Wallace to make me some coffee, the debts will be settled. At least two cups."
She mimics my chuckle before taking her leave. I could tell her the note will help me, since it'll buy me some good will from Curnow. For now, I'll let her think I'm in this out of the goodness of my heart.
It only takes a minute to don my outfit for assassination again, and to ensure my equipment all hangs where it should. I keep the mask on my belt to avoid scaring any unprepared conspirators. Following the same staircase I took last night, I browse the dormitory floor again. Cecelia is busy sweeping down the hall and doesn't notice me.
On the off chance of finding something interesting, I slip into Pendleton's room for another investigation. His chambers are still clean, almost no evidence that he stays here. Either that, or Lydia is a better maid than I gave her credit for. The spotlessness of the room makes it seem as if it belongs in a manor instead of an abandoned pub. Probably how Pendleton prefers it. I walk over to the audiograph player on the desk and lower the volume before pressing play.
A slight crackle of static and tinkering of machinery, then Trevor's voice. "Chapter 32-"
I almost knock the player off the table trying to silence the thing. If I hear Trevor complain about his poor home life before I get my first cup of coffee, I may kill him. The letter beside the player, signed and ready for the envelope, is the finished version of what I saw last night. Pendleton wrote a cousin, looking for help dealing with his brothers. Nothing new, which gives me exactly nothing to work with.
More annoyed than anything with my findings, I check the hallway again. The red haired servant is out of sight, but I can hear her broom in the hired help's dorm. My boots make no sound as I dash down the hallway and into Havelock's room. The bed is as clean as ever, but the clutter on his desk has doubled. He's tossed the materials for his next mission on top of the older ones.
There's no building specifically circled this time, not like before when he was planning for the Abbey. Still the same area, just off of Clavering and running alongside the Wrenhaven. The path he has sketched mimics the one I took to reach Campbell, but turns to the west sooner. Not much left of that area, abandoned aside from a few struggling businesses. The most notable one there is the Golden Cat… Campbell almost lived there before the Plague. He may have left clues, maybe blackmail on his companions or a cypher for his journal. Havelock seems to think it's my next target, or at least somewhere in that area. We'll have to see.
I quickly browse his logs for anything useful. Nothing in the written log, other than slight awe at what I managed. "Not only did he free Martin from the Office of the High Overseer, but he went into that viper's nest and sorted out Campbell personally… We are now committed to this path. There is no turning back." His nerves are getting the better of him, it seems. As if he's just now understanding what it is we're doing here.
Cecelia continues to miss me as I leave the Admiral's room and head down to the ground floor. The bar is abandoned except for Wallace, who's managing a small coffee maker and stove. The smell of cooked fish clashes with the drink's scent, but both are minimized by some sort of vacuum hood. Good: the last thing we need are guards searching this place for residents.
I take the full mug behind him and drop in a cube of sugar. It's been sitting out long enough it can safely be drank, thankfully. "One more for the ride, please," I say.
He jumps out of surprise, but he doesn't shout. "Good morning, sir. I trust your evening was well?"
"As well as it can be." The sip almost burns my mouth, but the warm drink is worth it. Something to wake my brain before a long day. "All quiet down here?'
"Apart the noise in the sewers all morning. The admiral assures us it's only some large rats, but they make it dreadfully hard to focus on cooking breakfast." He flips a seasoned, ugly hag fish in the skillet for emphasis.
Explains the favor he wants from me this morning. Someone who can get rid of them, or something bigger if they're wrong. I can hardly wait.
Finishing the last of the coffee, I feel somewhat alive. It's the second cup's job to ensure that lasts past lunch. "They'll be dealt with soon. I'm off to meet him, discuss my plans for the day. A second cup and a plate would be appreciated."
"As you wish, sir," he says with practiced politeness. I wonder if Wallace has ever raised his voice in his life. He's better at feigned politeness than Pendleton, depending on the day.
Leaving the bar for the backyard, I spot Piero and Callista, then hear Pendleton and Havelock somewhere to my left. She's trying not to yell as she lectures the inventor about his advances. It only takes a bit of the conversation to learn all I need to. Piero is a genius, but obviously not when it comes to romance. I ignore the quarrel and move towards Havelock's voice.
The chance to spy on them is gone instantly, the Admiral facing my direction as I climb the stairs. Pendleton turns when the officer greets me. I nod.
"I hate to start your day with such a strange matter, but the servants heard something last night moving through the storm drains," Havelock says, looking back to the staircase behind him. Sewer access, if I were to guess. "Most likely a weeper, the poor bastard."
"And this is based on...?" I ask with one eye on the stairs.
Pendleton groans. "The insufferable moaning. It hasn't stopped since the sun came up."
Listening for myself, I can pick out at least one voice down below. A man makes a very distinct noise when he's in that kind of pain. It's too early to tell, but guessing that it's a weeper isn't unfair.
"There's no hope for them once the Plague gets that far along," Havelock explains. "Nothing more than a shuffling corpse full of sickness and insects if you're asking me."
I keep my opinion to myself.
He continues, "I'd appreciate you investigating, just to be sure it's not a nosy guardsman that's getting too close. Here's a key to the hatches. Maybe Piero can create some kind of sleep poison, if you wish to go that route."
"We'll see." I take the key offered to me, then double back to the workshop. Callista is gone, thankfully. The inventor stands alone at one of his desks, fussing over a blueprint I don't try to read. He replies mechanically when I ask about the darts I requested last night, saying he can have a half dozen soon. His usual enthusiasm for invention is gone, likely destroyed by Callista's lecture. Ensuring I still have the two darts remaining from last night loaded into the crossbow, I leave for the sewers.
There's no one to wish me luck as I travel down the stairs that were so intently watched earlier. The hatch at the bottom opens to the key without resistance, showing a short drop down into the drain. I land silently, crossbow and sword in their customary hands. In a crouch, I press forward across the weathered walkways. The moaning gets louder and more distinct with each step: there are at least two separate voices here with me, no more than 50 meters away.
I hug the wall around several turns and leap over a collapsed portion to stay out of the foul water. But it does not take me long to find the bodies the voices come from. A man and a woman, both staggering about with hacking coughs and insects surrounding them. The distinct smell of sickness creeps from them over the general stench of the sewers. Combined with the dried trails of blood from their eyes, there's no doubting they're both Plague victims.
I take cover around a bend in the sewer, down a vial of elixir, and don my mask. The fabric beneath should keep me from catching their sickness, as long as I don't spend too much time near them. Stowing my weapons, I peer around the wall to watch the pair. The woman is more or less staying still in an odd crouch. Her companion is pacing every which way between us. After a minute, something down a side tunnel catches his attention. He sprints down the path in a wailing screech.
Twenty meters to between us. I Blink as far as I can, cutting the distance down to a quarter. The woman has less than a moment to react when she hears my boots. She tries to stand, and I wrap one arm around her neck. Not wanting to waste time on a choke, I slam her head into the wall of the tunnel to knock her out. My crossbow is ready before she reaches the ground.
The man, hearing the noise, comes back in a stumbling sprint. My poison dart finds his side just under the armpit. He shrieks and, after seeing me, makes a lunge. I dodge on his right and kick a leg out from under him. The drug takes the last of his coordination and he falls to the floor. As he tries to swing his arms at me, I grab him by the bottom of his coat and drag him towards his friend. He falls asleep close to the wall and well away from the sewer water. I check both of their pulses and necks before deciding they will be safe to sleep where they are.
Tracing my steps back to the pub, I keep an ear out for any other uninvited guests. I find the pub's furnace room I know is under the staircase and decide it will do fine. There's a low hanging chain in one corner that I scale to reach the stairwell through a trap door. Cecelia, busy sweeping, almost jumps out of her skin when I appear.
"You went down there in the sewers?" she asks. "I thought I heard a weeper down there."
I nod, removing my mask and scraping my boots on the door frame. "Two Weepers. They should be gone soon, and will sleep until then."
"Wow," the young servant mutters.
Pushing politely past her, I enter the bar again. Havelock and Martin are waiting at a far booth for me, along with a plate and another cup of coffee.
The Overseer looks to me through exhaustion as I sit across from him. Havelock simply smiles and sips his ale. "I trust our intruder was dealt with?"
"A pair of weepers, nothing more. I'll have Piero arrange something before I go," I say while taking my first bite of fish. Salty, overcooked, and almost inedible: an improvement over Coldridge, but not by a wide margin. Hag fish is impossible to cook well.
"Thank you for that, and once again for rescuing Martin," the admiral says. "Because of this, you've given us a glimmer of hope. We've gotten what we wanted from Campbell's journal. We know where Emily Kaldwin is being held."
It's only because I'm in the middle of another bite that I don't interrupt. But I do pay closer attention to the men across from me.
Martin continues for Havelock. "The Golden Cat, of all places. A bathhouse for aristocrats, a little better than a cursed brothel."
Holding a finger for a pause, I swallow my food. "I'm familiar with it, though less than Campbell was. Could they really keep Emily there secretly? I remember it being very popular."
"It still is, compared to others. But all of those business have become almost deserted since the Plague began. Lady Emily has only been there for the past two months, and they went to great lengths to ensure she could not be discovered," the Overseer says.
Havelock continues, "But there's an unfortunate twist. It appears Pendleton's own kinsman stand in our way: the twins, Morgan and Custis. Not only are they controlling Emily, they have the controlling parliamentary votes we so desperately need."
"Yes, the Pendletons need to die," Martin declares calmly. Easy for him to say. "But most importantly, Emily must be brought here safely so we can protector her until the Lord Regent and his entourage have been dealt with."
"How does Trevor feel about this assessment?" I ask before leaning back and sipping my coffee.
"He is not happy, but he understands what needs to be done," Havelock says.
Neither one shows any obvious signs of bluffing. Martin's clue may be rubbing his eyes, but that could just be exhaustion. I mentally chalk that up as a possible tell. Havelock still brandishes a military man's simple code of honesty. I've yet to find a good tell on him, though that may be because he hasn't lied to me yet.
I nod at them to continue.
"Pendleton's waiting for you at the dock. He wants to brief you personally. I think that's best," Martin says, then stands with a yawning stretch. He makes a sign that he's heading to bed and leaves without another word.
"Do you have any questions?" the admiral asks, sipping his ale with a small smile. Still right at home planning tactics and death. One of the many things that was true in my tale to Geoff.
"Did the journal leave any clues about where Emily is inside? Floor, room, lock combination?"
"No, only the building. The good news is, the surrounding homes have been mostly abandoned, so you will have plenty of avenues for approach."
"The Cat is still open for business, then?"
He nods.
I slowly drink from my coffee, thinking aloud. "The Watch will be there for the Pendletons, at least one or two customers, and whatever muscle the Madam hired on. That means there will be some of the gangs nearby, waiting to hit a noble who wanders too far from his guards. If they're the only business left in the area, Bottle Street will be desperate for a score."
"Use whatever you have to. As long as we get Emily here safely and the Pendletons removed, we can keep going after the Regent." Less of a smile, but still enjoying himself.
I finish my last sip of coffee, running over more details in my mind. There's nothing left that can be answered by Havelock. Samuel might have a better idea about what Bottle Street will look like today, and I doubt anyone knows exactly how many guards and customers I will be evading until I see them myself.
"I'll take my leave, and hopefully we can reach the Golden Cat before lunch," I say.
"Glad to hear it, Corvo," Havelock smiles. He stands with me as I leave the booth. "If anyone can do this, it's you."
I only nod as I leave the bar for Piero's workshop. Pendleton is pacing by the gate to the dock, taking generous sips from the flask in his chest pocket. I let him simmer for a few minutes while I visit the inventor. Still downtrodden about his conversation with Callista, he hardly answers in anything longer than two words. He managed to make another six poison darts, but needs more coin for supplies. I hand him a small pouch heavy with gold and ask him to keep me as supplied as possible.
It's not until I mention the captured Weepers that he finally shows any sign of life. He thanks me for capturing them, and says he will repay me for this later. Apparently, he still has a few friends in the Academy who are helping his research. Live specimens of Plague victims are in high demand. He agrees to my terms that they must be treated as humanely as possible, and says his associates will pay us both well for this.
It's the best I can do, and let the subject go for now. Leaving with my extra poison darts, I make my way towards the dock. Pendleton is still pacing and drinking fast enough I'm surprised he hasn't finished the flask. He stops me with a raised hand before I even reach the steps.
"Corvo, I'm sending you to kill my older brothers," he starts. I can already tell he's rehearsed this speech a few times. "They're horrible people, it's true, and cruel beyond words. Further, my brothers are close allies to the Lord Regent, and as long as they are in Parliament, we cannot gather the votes we need to stop the Lord Regent from further consolidating his power."
"They're bad people, and they need to go," I say bluntly while looking down at him, trying to get something other than his practiced monologue. "I didn't need another reminder."
"I warned my brothers in every way I could. I really did, but they never did listen," he continues, hardly noticing my interruption. "They've wronged too many people, using their favor with the Regent they way they have. Let's just say not all of the families under quarantine for the Plague actually have the Plague."
"I fail to see the point, Trevor. Get to it."
The thin facade he had up collapses, showing how distraught he really is. He takes his flask out and drinks another large gulp. "But they are still family," he finally admits.
I scoff under my breath, trying to ensure he doesn't notice it. He's right, they're family to him. Not to me. They're men who helped ruin me, take Emily, and murder Jessamine. If I kill them today, I don't expect to lose any sleep. But Trevor doesn't have the luxury of that distance, of a personal motivation to want them dead. If he hadn't lived such a coddled life, I would feel bad for him.
"I'll make it quick," I say quietly. Hopefully the lower volume will make the lie easier to get away with.
He nods, still not looking towards me. "Thank you," he mutters. "They'll be at the Golden Cat. They'll be protected by the City Watch. Please, go quickly, before I change my mind."
I step past him without a sound, joining Samuel at his boat. All I do is nod before stepping in, and he takes the cue. He unties the last rope holding his craft, and sets the engine off towards the river.
Well, I have good news for you Dishonored minions: updates for this one should be coming faster now. Not because I suddenly got a ton of motivation to work on this (always had that, FYI.) But because the same reason I'm suddenly much happier with my life. I just got a new job that's 1: paying a lot more than my old gig (including benefits) and 2: it gives me a ton more free time off and on the clock, so I can actually work on this. So hopefully I can get updates going to this thing more than once a month. Not committing to anything yet, but things are looking up.
And to my old Mass Effect fans on here, go check out my Tumblr. gv-archangel, for those of you that forgot it. I made a wonderful friend over there, Palavenmoons, who does amazing Mass Effect stuff. And I got a commission off her to drawn that little scene from "Tali's Hangover" that I'm in love with. It's also on my DeviantArt, but figured I should remind you all that site is there for my references to songs and awesome art that inspires me.
Cheers, everyone! And no, I don't have any writing ideas in mind for Valentine's this year. The inspiration for that particular holiday is eluding me at the moment. But I shall diligently work on this instead! ~MGA