Chapter 2: Tenebrae Operiere
Osvald was a man of few words, whereas Temenos was a man of many words.
This much was made clear as they made their way into New Delsta. While Osvald was content scrutinizing everything and everyone in the city (figuring out the city's blind spots, who looked like they would carry something valuable), Temenos made a point of socializing. Not a single person was spared his polite smile and (somewhat aggressive) questioning. While it was true that Temenos was an Inquisitor, surely everyone couldn't be a heretic. Unless that was not the nature of his investigation?
When the two finally got to a more secluded area in the backstreets, Osvald found that he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer.
"What are you investigating," he finally questioned, "that you insist on leaving no stone unturned?"
"Ah, yes. I suppose if I'm to enlist your assistance, you may as well know," Temenos responded, crossing his arms. He then motioned his hand to beckon the scholar closer. Osvald obeyed, and he could still barely hear the cleric's whisper; "I'm investigating a murder."
Osvald did not know what kind of answer he expected, but it certainly wasn't that. How ironic; to help in the investigation of the very kind of crime that he had been framed for. The mere thought of it rekindled the fire in his breast.
"Is this why you wanted to join me on my journey?"
"Yes and no. I don't know what brought you...here in the first place," Temenos admitted. "But you may know a thing or two that I do not."
As much as Osvald appreciated Temenos' discretion regarding Frigid Isle, there was one thing he had to at least try to clear up. "I was framed."
"Were you?" If Temenos was surprised at the admission, he did a very good job of hiding it. Rather, he was clearly intrigued. "Be that as it may. You are still a scholar, yes?"
"You believe me?" The question came out before Osvald could stop himself.
Temenos gave Osvald an unimpressed look. "I'm not an Inquisitor for nothing, Osvald."
Osvald let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. So many times he insisted that he was innocent, that he was framed...and not a single soul believed him. Not when Harvey happened, not during the trial, and certainly not during those five years of hell. He half-expected Temenos to be the same, and he was shocked to be proven wrong.
"Now that we're done chatting, I'll tell you more details later," Temenos continued. The smile on his face was small - and unlike the polite smiles he gave to the cityfolk, this one seemed almost regretful. "Apologies, but you never know who may be listening in a city like this."
Osvald found he couldn't argue with that, and it was surprising how reluctant he was to accept this. At least, only for a moment or two. Perhaps it was because he had been framed for the same crime that he found himself more willing to help than he had previously been.
What Osvald wouldn't have given for someone to pursue the truth of his matter half as doggedly as Temenos.
Osvald had no issues with having Throné join his travels; someone who ambushed those two thugs so skillfully could be a powerful ally. Besides, the two of them were similar in that they were searching for particular people. Far be it from him to deny Throné the chance to pursue her targets. Osvald could be called a lot of things, but a hypocrite was not one of them.
While Temenos questioned Throné, Osvald took the liberty of searching the unconscious thug's pockets. A habit from his time in prison; if he was to survive long enough to escape and kill Harvey, he needed to survive any way he could. Besides, disarming these two could save the puppy from further retaliation. In that sense at least, the endeavor was worthwhile.
It was only when he was satisfied with what he found - the thug's knives, a bottle of Poison Dust and a Dark Soulstone - that he stood. Temenos seemed to have disappeared in those few minutes, so only Throné remained. She had been watching with a quirked eyebrow.
"I told your cleric friend about someone who might know who he's looking for," she said, before Osvald could ask. "He said to meet up at the city gates in an hour or so."
"We're not friends," Osvald responded. Investigative partners, maybe...but that did not mean they were friends. "We're just helping each other out."
Most people would probably protest to that; perhaps about how journeys strengthen bonds, or how they would be friends in no time. Throné did not seem to share such sentimentality. "Fair enough. You're not much of a talker, are you?"
"Hm." That could not be denied. The muzzle that had been placed on him in Frigid Isle allowed him to eat and draw breath easy enough, but talking was another story. It was a measurement that was taken to prevent him from using magic. As a result, the mere act of talking for this long felt like a strange kind of workout. Osvald knew that using his vocal chords would get easier over time...but he was not a talker even before Harvey.
Throné didn't seem to judge him for his silence, at least. Rather, she walked over and extracted one of the knives from Osvald's hands. Osvald was not an expert when it came to knives, but Throné seemed to be appraising the knife like one would a jewel. "Not that I'm judging, but why take these? They'll just get replacements by morning."
"A minor detail," Osvald responded, turning to walk further into the backstreets. He didn't give a whit as to whether Throné chose to follow - which she did.
It was an unspoken agreement from then on; Osvald and Throné were going to take as many valuables as they could before they left the city.
By the time the two thieves met Temenos by the city gate, half of New Delsta's citizens had been knocked out. Those poor souls would wake up with their pockets significantly lighter.