Twelve - The Connecting Thread

I know it's a little late, but here's some clarification on characters and stuff. From a recent review I've noted a few faults in the story, and will be changing a few things soon. I request you to read the following patiently, only if you feel like you haven't followed Willow and Corvo's character so far. If you have, you can skip to the story.

As I said, constructive criticism is also welcome :)

Willow Ride is the kind of person who has survived a tragedy in her childhood days. There are several ways in which a person might deal with such incidents, the two basic ones defining all of them. They can either face the tragedy, forgive and move on, so that when they are asked about it in the future they can answer quite freely. On the other hand, they can choose to forget that something of that sort happened, or remain in a place that's in between accepting and forgetting. Like putting the entire thing on hold and keeping all the feelings bottled in, distracting themselves with anything else just to avoid facing that memory. Willow Ride chose the second path, basically ignoring the incident that could be the defining moment for a strong character. As a result, she's passive, withdrawn, with not much liveliness.

And as for Corvo, I took the freedom provided by the interactive moments in the game to build his character. It's medium chaos, to begin with, meaning he prefers not to kill guards/ targets, however if he sees no other way, he forces himself to do so.

As for the first three chapters being too long, I'd just like to say that I'm trying to make this story as real as possible, like an actual novel. I don't want to end up with more than 20 - 25 chapters, nor do I want to stuff all the ideas in a single one.

'Climb onto the highest peak and still I will be there to catch you

My dear one, there is no valley deep enough to hold me bound

Bound, As the world turns and shifts and leaves bloody scars,

No matter where you are, I will keep you away from iron bars.

Gold, silver and rubies are nothing to me but dirt,

If I don't have you by my side to share all the mirth.

Jewels will slip from me like does snow from the mountain ground,

My dear one, there is no valley deep enough to hold me bound.'

'I love that song, mummy!'

'Of course you do, sweetheart. It was written for you.'

'Did you write it, mummy?'

'No, your grandfather did. He loved you more than anything else in the world.'

Willow opened her eyes, taking in a blurry image of a wooden roof. She shifted uncomfortably and sat up, holding a side of her head. The old valley song kept ringing in her ears, her mother's melodious voice echoing at the back of her head. She blinked a few times and looked around at the wooden walls and floor. The room was small, dark. There was a single lamp burning bright, and it hung on the wall. Willow had been sleeping on a quilt that had been spread across on the floor. There was a tiny fireplace on the right wall, and an old torn couch surrounding it.

The last memory she had was being thrown onto a rooftop, getting surrounded by assassins, and then it went blank. She had been unconscious.

She stood up weakly, resting one hand on the wall. There was a jug of water on the couch. Taking a deep breath, she dragged herself to the couch and grabbed the jug, feeling a sudden fatigue in her bones.

She sat down on the couch and drained the whole thing, and used a little amount to wash her face. She looked down at herself, and found that her dress was the same one she had been wearing back in the prison. Her hair was left open, falling onto her shoulders in a messy cloud of black.

Suddenly, a door opened from the right side of the fireplace. Two men in vapour masks walked in, and saw her on the couch.

'She's awake,' One of them said.

'Inform the master,' The other one ordered. The first one nodded and left.

'My name is Range,' The assassin said aloud. He walked to Willow slowly. 'I will be in charge of you, making sure that you don't act stupid by trying to escape.'

'Where am I?' Willow asked.

'You do not need to know that,' He answered immediately. 'My ally will get you your food shortly. Eat without a complaint. Do not make noise.'

'Why did you bring me here?' She asked. 'I have nothing. I'm not rich or anything. Nobody's going to pay a ransom for me.'

'We do not work for ransom, woman!' He exclaimed. 'Now do not speak a word.'

Willow said nothing as her eyes slowly drifted to the door. It was wide open, and there was nobody outside. If she could knock him unconscious and make a run for it -

She shut her eyes immediately. She didn't know where she was, but she did know that the place was full of assassins. She couldn't risk doing something so stupid.

Range stood at the door, leaning on the wood.

Willow's eyes scanned the whole room, its contents and shelves. She made a mental note about the things she deemed useful : a pair of scissors, cinder, dead embers from the fire, and a closed glass window. It was useless, because it was covered by sheets of metal that were nailed into the wall on either sides.

There were a lot of bottles and cans stacked irregularly in one corner, most of them empty. Besides that, there was only the couch, torn wallpapers and the quilt that she had been sleeping on. She looked at the door again.

An idea built up in her mind. She sat up straight and looked at Range.

She had to get a look at the corridor outside.

'Lorelei?' Sokolov asked, shifting his attention to Piero.

'Apparently, she was mentioned in the butler's note that Corvo found,' Piero explained.

Sokolov put down the pair of tongs that he was using to hold a test tube, and stroked his beard.

'Lorelei . . . Somehow it sounds familiar,' Sokolov mumbled. 'I cannot remember why though . . '

'Was she one of the prostitutes that you hired?' Piero asked straight forwardly.

'Of course not,' Sokolov replied. 'Why would I remember a prostitute's name?'

'Just a thought,' Piero mumbled.

Sokolov sat down in front of the lab table, slowly pulling out his gloves. There was a faint noise from the weeper cells, sounds of low cries and chatters.

'How many weepers have been cured?' Piero asked. 'I keep losing track of our real job.'

'All of them are cured,' Sokolov answered casually. 'At different levels, though. But I can say that they're all safe from the plague. I couldn't trust the guards with treating the weepers, so I had to do it myself the last two days. And you've been oh so busy doing something so secret, you wouldn't know of all my work.'

'Shouldn't you be celebrating then?' Piero asked. 'We've found the perfect cure.'

Sokolov froze in his movements, his eyes fixed on the table. A sudden shadow seemed to take over his monotonous expression, that of remorse. He lowered his eyes slowly to the stack of papers that lay in front of him, all of Willow's reports.

'We should have been celebrating by now,' He mumbled loud enough for Piero to hear. 'This moment was supposed to be glorious for me - I mean, both of us.'

'Indeed,' Piero nodded.

Sokolov shook his head slowly. 'Misfortune always strikes when it's least expected. I'd been dreaming of this moment for so long, working for it. But now that Willow's disappeared . . .'

'I understand,' Piero mumbled. 'But something tells me she's going to be just fine. I'm sure the assassins are holding her now. The entire defence is searching for them. We will find her,' Piero placed a hand on Sokolov's shoulder reassuringly.

Sokolov nodded curtly. He picked up the first paper from the stack, reading the information regarding a weeper that Willow had noted.

'Test subject : 23

Signatures : A tattoo on the neck.

Date of Collection : 12th, Month of Nets.

Place of Collection : Dabokov street, Rudshore District.'

'Lorelei!' Sokolov suddenly exclaimed, standing up with such force that the chair tumbled backwards. 'Of course, now I remember!'

Piero stood up with him, looking from the paper to Sokolov. 'Who is she, then?'

'How could I possibly forget that wench!' Sokolov grumbled on as he walked to the hat stand and collected his coat. Piero followed him down the stairs, right to the royal court, where a group of young women from a theatre were putting on a musical.

Corvo stood beside Emily, watching the play with the interest of a sloth. Emily sat in her throne with the same expression as Corvo's.

'They seem to be ah . . Busy,' Piero mumbled to Sokolov.

'More like bored out of their wits,' Sokolov replied.

The Royal Spokesperson spotted them at the top of the stairs, and invited them to their seats with a grin that joined both his ears. 'Its a bloody good show, really!' He exclaimed as he saw Sokolov and Piero taking their seats at the foot of the pedestal.

'At least someone's enjoying it,' Piero mumbled.

He turned to find Sokolov charming a middle aged woman, his left leg folded onto his right one.

Well, Piero thought grimly. Isn't his attention span just amazing.

When the cacophonous play was finally over, The Royal Spokesperson concluded the assembly, since it was a weekend. The Officials were escorted home by guards, and Emily retired to her room, trying to get the horrible songs out of her head.

Sokolov and Piero rushed in after Corvo into the Empress' floor, desperately trying to bring him to a remote corner. When it was finally confirmed by the maids that Emily was resting, Corvo led them to his chamber.

'That woman you asked about,' Sokolov began, closing the doors behind him. 'Lorelei, I know her rather well. No wonder she's responsible for all this chaos.'

'I doubt that she's responsible for all this,' Corvo mumbled. 'More likely just involved.'

'Ah!' Sokolov exclaimed impatiently. 'You wouldn't be saying that if you knew her as I do!'

'So who is she?' Corvo asked, leaning against the study table.

Sokolov took a deep breath, stroking his beard. He seemed to be steadying his mind, preparing to reveal something that had had an obvious effect on him.

'A few years before the plague,' He began, seating himself on the couch, facing Corvo and Piero. 'Back when the whale oil revolution had just begun, and Esmond was practically leading the empire . .'

'Esmond Roseburrow?' Corvo asked. Sokolov nodded grimly.

'Precisely,' Sokolov said. 'At that time I had just begun designing ammunition and weaponry for the empire's defence. Our city was . . small. I had it in my mind for a long time, to make an agreement and hold a venture with Roseburrow industries, if they were to accept my designs. I was travelling back to Gristol by the latest whale oil powered steamer, from my homeland Tyvia,' Sokolov took a moment to take a deep, heavy breath. Corvo waited patiently. 'As soon as I stepped into the city, I was ambushed by whalers. Five of them, as I recall. They wanted my designs, my inventions. I escaped, luckily found a few Overseers that chased them away. When I was residing at Roseburrow's estate, when our deal was still in progress, I was attacked again, but failed. You see, their mission wasn't assassination, just a petty theft. So the assassins that were sent were just amateurs. They caught one, and when he was interrogated, he revealed that they had been paid by a woman named Lorelei, which was obviously an alias. Apparently, she's a noblewoman, the dirty kind, who hides her business of smuggling behind a pretty dress manufacturing factory. She wanted to sell my designs to some foreign power.'

'Did they catch her?' Piero asked. 'If it was proven that she ordered the theft, she deserves a year in prison.'

Sokolov shook his head. 'I never saw her or met her. She was caught, but released within two days,' He sighed heavily. 'Some justice we're given. After that, she temporarily shut down her factory for five years, but re-opened it again. I do not know about her looks, address or connections.'

'So she's dirty nobility, using a well-known alias,' Corvo said. 'That's helpful, Sokolov. Thank you. I know just the man that can lead me to her.'

'I do not trust the Overseers or the city watch,' Sokolov said. 'But I trust you to find Willow. In

time.'

Corvo nodded curtly, and went back to his duty.

When it was half past ten, Corvo slipped out of the tower with ease, using the secret passage that very few people knew about. Once in the city, he put on his mask.

He took the familiar path that led to a very familiar place - Bottle street.

When he walked into the Distillery, the thugs stepped aside immediately, some of them chattering and whispering.

He walked all the way to the thug that was guarding the wooden door in the dry courtyard, who stood up as soon as he spotted Corvo.

'I want to see Slack jaw,' He said to the thug. The short man nodded and opened the door to lead him into the distillery. The stench of fermented juices was almost overwhelming, and mixed with the odour of plague rats, it was nearly unbearable.

Slack jaw was in his office, and from the way he sat idly staring at the door, Corvo knew that he had been informed of his arrival.

The thug left them alone, closing the door behind him.

'If it ain't the most infamous man in town,' Slack jaw drawled, getting up from his seat. 'I'd like to say I'm pleased to see my saviour again, but I'd be lying.'

'I have a job for you,' Corvo said, ignoring his small talk.

'If it's killing someone, I'm sure you can manage that?'

'I want your men to look into someone's house. A noblewoman.'

'Lucky guess. It's that hag Lorelei, ain't it?' He smiled, showing off a silver tooth at the back of his upper jaw. 'Knew she was up to something fishy. That's why I rejected her offer.'

'What offer?'

'She wanted my men to kill some nobleman. A man with a . . strange name.'

Corvo stepped towards Slack jaw's desk, examining the papers. 'Was it Earnest Laquert?' He asked in a low voice.

'Yeah, that's the guy,' Slack jaw replied, turning to him. 'I threw her out immediately.'

'Why?' Corvo asked, looking back at him.

'There are some affairs in this god forsaken city that I don't let me and my men get into,' Slack jaw explained. 'Some things that we're better off staying away from.'

'What did she offer in exchange?' Corvo asked.

'10 gold ingots.'

'Isn't that a fair price?'

Slack jaw shook his head grimly, returning to his seat. 'You don't get this. She was involved with them assassins in some way.'

Corvo felt a tightening in his chest, remembering the red robed man, the lone baby in the room.

'How was she involved with them?' He asked.

'Made some kind of twisted deal with those freaks,' Slack jaw began. 'Said she had to keep her end of the deal, and she needed our help. Wouldn't take a genius to guess that "her end of the deal" was killing Earnest whatever-his-last-name-is.'

'Did she say anything else? About the deal?'

'Well . . Not much after that. That lady has a sloppy reputation among street gangs, to begin with. Always fucks up things and gets people in trouble. Sometimes gets them into situations that forces them to pay her back. Smart one, but sick.'

'From what I know,' Corvo said, 'You weren't afraid of the assassins before.'

'No,' Slack jaw accepted. 'I wasn't. But ten months ago, shit changed. They grew stronger. Not that they got advanced weapons or something, they just grew more . . . violent. When the man Daud led them, they were how they had to be. Done with their business, then get out of the place. Sincere, in a way. But now they ain't sticking to principles no more.'

'They got a new leader?' Corvo asked.

'A bull of a leader, more like,' Slack jaw said. 'Sent three of his men to warn me eight months ago, to keep away from any of their affairs. I ignored that in the beginning . . I learnt it the hard way. Lost twenty men.'

'So you're taking my deal?' Corvo asked.

Slack jaw exhaled slowly, resting his feet on the table. 'Snooping around Lorelei's home?'

'Home, and factory.'

'What d'ya want us to find?'

'A red envelope with a black seal. And anything else suspicious. Anything relating to . . abduction, murder or theft in the Dunwall tower. Any scandal.'

'How long d'you want them to search?'

'Half a day,' Corvo said. 'Get them disguises. Send two women with them, to minimise the suspicion.'

'Well, I have women doing official jobs for me too,' He closed his eyes for a second, deep in thought. 'If that request came from somebody else, I would've rejected immediately. But it's you, and when you're involved in something, it has to be important. Besides,' He picked up his pipe and stuffed in tobacco, saying, 'I owe you.'

'I'll pay you whatever you want, after the job's done. '

'Agreed,' Slack jaw said, drawing in the smoke. 'If something resurrected the masked felon, it has to be related to the fate of the empire itself.' He smiled wryly. 'Ain't I always right?'

Willow hastily slipped on Range's vapour mask, and put on his black gloves. The last part of the outfit were the shoes, and they were too big for her, to compensate the extra free space, she stuffed in paper and cloth to make sure that they didn't slip out. The mask was heavy, but it helped to keep her head lowered. She glanced at the door nervously, and saw that it was still locked from the inside, the way Range had left it.

She had used a simple trick, bringing her degree of Chemistry to practical use. Among the many bottles and cans in the corner were bleach and home remedy sewer cleaner, which were found everywhere in the city. All she had to do was sneak out a little bit of both, get them into a small container and hide it in her pocket. Then she had to convince Range that she was sick, and coughing a lot did the trick.

When she shook the container and stuffed it into the valve in his mask, the quantity of the gas released was enough to knock him out. Then she put on his clothes, and wrapped him up in her's, laying him down on the quilt. She had to clean the mask thoroughly before putting it on.

Fortunately, the material of the coat was the stiff kind, so it succeeded in hiding her feminine parts, and making the shoulders look a little broad.

Her heart kept banging against her chest. She stepped aside and took a moment to breathe deeply, avoiding hyperventilation. She never usually prayed, but in this situation, it seemed almost logical.

She threw a blanket on top of Range, making it cover his head. His legs still poked out, but since she had given him her shoes, it didn't look suspicious.

Nothing will go wrong, she told herself. Don't speak. Nod and shake your head if anyone speaks to you, and maintain your calm. Walk confidently, the way Range did.

She took a deep breath and headed towards the door, praying to somehow find Corvo outside whatever building they were in.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Thank you for reading, please leave a review.

xoxoxo