The party, minus H'aanit and Linde, had thus managed to arrange for their transport to the Parlor. The women, dressed as dancers, are with Arianna in Oren's carriage. Meanwhile, the men successfully got a hapless nobleman to hire them as guards to the Parlor for his appointment.
Oren's carriage goes off first to the east of Stillsnow, into the coniferous woods nearby. The nobleman's carriage follows a distance behind.
"Use this map!" The nobleman hands Olberic and Alfyn a scrap of paper, "Take care not to get us lost, understood?!"
"I don't believe we ever got your name, sir," Simeon asks from where he's stuck sitting atop the mudguard at the back. He keeps his hands dug into his armpits as he shivers, but he is at least sheltered within the slipstream of the carriage from the wind.
"Humph! Couldn't you tell? I'm from the house of Ulstrose! My family has been a prominent institution in commutes betwixt the Woodlands and the Frostlands! I myself am the earl, Marion," The nobleman boasts as they enter the forest periphery.
"Ulstrose, you say?" Cyrus thinks a second but has to interrupt himself lest he fall off his horse, "Erm... the name does not ring a bell, I'm afraid."
"Well, you may wear a nice coat of a scholar, but you're simply uncultured," Marion scoffs snobbishly.
"Haha, let's, uh, just focus on not getting lost, eh?" Alfyn looks at the sparse map to try and make heads or tails of it. It looks a bit familiar to the map that Primrose showed Arianna, with merely a location marked. But where Primrose' shows where the carriage pickup is, this one has the something marked in the forest.
"Say, uh," Alfyn calls back to Marion, "This Parlor place... ain't never heard of it much myself!"
"Well, of course not," Marion scoffs, "It's not something for plebians on the street to know. Even among us noblemen, the pool of those in the know is limited. They've recently changed their policies a bit on carriages so I only need a ride to that location and they will take it from there."
Therion digests that quietly. Of course this clandestine operation wouldn't just let even customers roll up in their own rides if their employees are also going in blind. Likely, like Primrose's map, it's a meeting spot, but designated for patrons. If that's the case, they likely won't be able to follow Marion inside. In that case, they'll have to get creative... or messy depending on what awaits at that checkpoint.
"Hmm... This wood indeed does show some travel..." Cyrus mumbles to himself. Using the light of the lantern to see ahead, he no longer glimpses the rear of Oren's carriage in the snowy night.
"Do other people use this route?" Olberic asks offhandedly.
"More or less. It's the same route for my appointments, generally," Marion sniffles, "Goodness, it's certainly colder this time, though, because we sat around for so long!"
"Ahaha, well, at least we're moving now!" Alfyn chuckles off their rude employer's comments.
...
Meanwhile, in Oren's carriage, the women look out and seem to avoid talking too much about their current situation, lest Oren overhear too much. Tressa glances out at the snow that passes them by.
"So, uh, since we are new," The merchant clears her throat and looks to Arianna beside her, "How much further?"
"It's a bit further out... We will be dropped off right at the Parlor's doors, so we won't need to worry much beyond that point..." Arianna says tentatively. Her eyes flicker now and then to Primrose sitting across from her. The dancer is silently sitting next to Ophilia.
"Hmm... It does seem like it would be dangerous going here..." Ophilia speaks up as the trees pass them by.
"It can be... Once, we did have to run from some of the local beasts in a mad chase... Most patrons will bring their own hired help for this reason," Arianna sighs and looks at them all a bit awkwardly, "You new girls... will have to get used to a lot of things. It's not like any whorehouse you've ever been in."
"Urk..." Tressa slumps a bit, "Sure hope they're alright with just a dance or two..."
"I... I as well... Even if I've been told I have two left feet in dancing..." Ophilia mumbles.
"... Lady Primrose..." Arianna looks back to the dancer, "Are you alright? You... haven't said so much a word."
"... Ah, apologies," Primrose glances up, "I was just... thinking of some old things."
"Sooooo... This whole 'lady' thing..." Tressa leans in and glances between Arianna and Primrose, "You were Prim's servant or something?"
"Well, yes..." Arianna nods, "It was a long time ago. It was where I knew Prim and Simeon from."
"Ah, old friends. That's sweet... If only..." Ophilia glances at them, too, "If only the meeting could have been a bit sweeter."
Primrose scoffs and looks to Tressa and Ophilia, "The two of you... have far too little experience in this kind of thing... You'll disappoint the customers."
"Eh? I mean..." Tressa scratches her head, not entirely sure how to retort, "I can figure it out as I go?"
"I... don't really know what to expect," Ophilia sighs in defeat.
"It seems me and Arianna will need to give you some pointers..." The dancer looks to the former maid, "How would you say the patron's temperaments go? On average?"
"Well... It's not an easy thing to gauge. I'm afraid they are allowed to do with us as they wish... Sometimes you do find a decent patron that is more than happy with simply the company..." Arianna clasps her shawl, "Others can be... more violent."
"... Wait, they can hit you?" Tressa asks in a hushed voice of surprise, "But that's just shoddy business...!"
Arianna shakes her head, "No... in fact, that is precisely what the patrons want to do. They come here as a sort of escape from many of their own lives and frustrations... We are... tools for that."
Ophilia obviously doesn't seem too happy about that.
"We also will not be choosing our patrons. They choose us," Arianna continues, "And sometimes, Rufus will assign us on his own."
Mentioning the man seems to remind her of something. She looks to Tressa and Ophilia and asks in a whisper, "Uhm... are you both... going to the Parlor for that same reason?"
"Uhh, you mean Prim's?" Tressa raises an eyebrow, "I mean, yeah. I'm also just a bit curious, I guess?"
It's quite obvious that the merchant girl doesn't quite see the full danger just yet.
"I... I heard that a bishop might be frequenting this place..." Ophilia grips her skirts, "Be this true? That there are patrons from the Church?"
Arianna nods grimly, "Yes. They aren't common, but they do exist. I have seen at least one in my time here... but that was a few moons ago."
"Isn't the Church super against this kinda thing?" Tressa cups her chin, "Man, what hypocrites... Where do they even get the money for that? Steal it from the church funds?"
That seems all too likely at this point. Ophilia sighs, obviously uncomfortable.
"So, uhm, you will need to be quite observant of the wants of your respective patron. They may want to play games and so you will also need to have an instinctive grasp of what they want even when they don't say it..." Arianna glances to Primrose, "Truth be told, it is a skill even I do not have full control over after all this time..."
"Do not worry about that so much... It is less a skill and more a matter of charisma, perhaps," Primrose leans an elbow on the windowsill of the door beside her, "It is a skill that comes along with confidence."
"That's really vague, but I kinda get it," Tressa folds her arms and nods, "It's like the scales of Bifelgan. It's a feeling you're born with."
"Quite. Some are born with more wiles than others," Primrose gazes out into the snowy scenery, "How they use it is up to them."
Ophilia glances at Primrose's free hand to see the dancer's fingers hover just over the hilt of a dagger peeking out from under the folds of her dress. Just then, the carriage begins to slow to a stop.
"Alright, we're here. Get on out, all of you," Oren's gruff voice can be heard, "End of the line."
The women are put out before some snowy path lined with wooden fencing and torchlight. Rocky outcrops form tall, shadowy clumps before surrounding trees.
Oren scoffs, shutting the door once they get out, "This is where I take my leave."
He jabs a finger at Arianna, "Not a word of this to the man in charge, ye hear? I dunno who these friends of yours be, but they ain't s'posed to be here."
He casts a lasting glower at the others, "Something's off and I'm not paying for it."
"O-of course... please travel safely, Oren..." Arianna curtsies.
The coachman mounts his carriage once more and rides off, his steeds giving brusque neighs as he flicks the reins. Primrose glances around at their surroundings, as does Tressa.
"Uh... where are the guys' carriage?" The merchant realizes, "They were coming, too, right?"
"The patrons come by a different route than we," Arianna points ahead, "We workers enter from here... Ah..."
"What is it?" Primrose looks to Arianna.
"I ... hope your friends will be alright..." Arianna seems pensive, "They won't be able to enter with patrons if they are only masquerading as the carriage staff..."
"... I'm sure they'll find a way in," Primrose chuckles a little.
"Oh, yeah, no doubt," Tressa nods.
"Um, okay... Well, shall we?" Arianna gestures for them to walk through the path. Ahead, they see glimmering lights through the trees. Snow is falling softly around them.
"... So, uh," Tressa folds her arms behind her head as they crunch through the snow, "You were Prim's servant or something, Arianna?"
"It was a long time ago," Primrose answers quicker than Arianna, "... Around the time when the high house of Azelhart fell."
"Azelhart... Oh, yeah, you guys mentioned that back at the house!" Tressa remembers, "Hmm... it sounds important... doesn't exactly ring a bell, though..."
"... Lady Primrose, are you comfortable talking about this...?" Arianna asks like she'd been holding the question back for a bit.
"... There is a story about the house of Azelhart," Primrose says softly as they walk, her eyes facing forward, "They were a family that had unclean hands from many inglorious deeds committed in the name of securing their power against their rivaling houses. And yet, they were known for their motto of always believing in the righteousness of their own deeds... and it protected them for a good while."
"Inglorious deeds..." Ophilia parrots to herself.
"One such Azelhart invited his liege lord to dinner under guise of a truce... only to slaughter him and everyone else at the party," The dancer blinks slowly, "Do not be fooled, for the lord was a cruel man... and yet that ruthlessness did not earn the Azelharts any allies."
Arianna shivers a little as if a chill just blew by.
"That's... so brutal," Ophilia averts her gaze a little, "They couldn't come to an understanding with words."
"Some people won't understand anything unless it's a knife in their face," The dancer shrugs, "Anyways, the faith the Azelharts had in their actions protected them in their hearts, for their conviction was unshakeable. And thus, their house motto was 'faith shall be your shield.'"
"..." Arianna looks at Primrose's back against the light of the Parlor ahead as they near.
"So, with that in mind, I have faith that I will not fail tonight," Primrose's eyes look straight at the manor gates beyond the path.
"... Lady Primrose," Arianna steps forward.
Primrose turns to face her. Arianna looks like she wants to say something. Then, she raises a finger and points towards the nearby trees by a rocky outcrop.
"... There is a way to reach the master's chambers directly..."
"Hm?" Primrose glances thataway. The fires do not illuminate that way, but her eyes can pierce the darkness to see what looks like a hidden path, "... Directly to the master's chambers, you say? Then I shall go that way."
"We're going with you, Prim!" Tressa announces and walks over to Primrose's side.
"... I would prefer you come, Tressa," Primrose looks to Ophilia, "What do you want to do?"
"Uh... Well, I was thinking maybe I could go with Arianna in this instance..." Ophilia thinks a moment, "Just in case anything should happen... Also, I believe I am looking for a certain patron among those here. I think I will better encounter them this way."
Primrose nods, "Very well. Arianna, I must ask that you guide her from here. She is... very new to this."
"Of course, Lady Primrose..." Arianna looks to Ophilia, "You might want to use a false moniker while you are here if it will only be a short while."
"Oh, I hadn't considered that..." Ophilia realizes.
"Alright then... here we part ways," Primrose looks to her former maid, "And we will meet back in Stillsnow."
"... Lady Primrose... please be careful," Arianna sighs, "I have been a cheaply used whore here for many years now... and I have seen girls come and go who were younger than I... never to return."
Arianna isn't that much older than Primrose, truth be told. However, her eyes tell of a tired old age far beyond.
"Thank you, Arianna," Primrose softly embraces the former maid, "Please... have faith."
"I ... will try, my lady."
Primrose and Tressa walk down the hidden path now while Ophilia and Arianna go by the front gates. Tressa tries to keep herself from shaking a bit as she walks alongside Primrose into the undergrowth.
"Are you nervous?" Primrose chuckles softly.
"Uh, well, a little, I guess? I dunno, what if this is some guy like Morlock?" Tressa frowns and lights a torch, "I mean, teaching him a lesson was nice... But what do we do after about Arianna and the other prostitutes?"
Primrose doesn't answer. Brushing aside some of the lower leaves hanging from the trees, she finds the opening to a cave that leads downward. Tressa's torch doesn't illuminate the sloping path all the way.
"... Stay close to me, okay, Tressa?"
The merchant swallows and nods obediently as they descend.
...
Ophilia glances up at the layered building that is the Obsidian Parlor. It looks like an extravagant structure of limestone, with well-made arches and balconies before windows with red curtains drawn behind. Two statues of crows bow their heads at the sides of the main door, which has a silvery symbol of the same bird above. A gate of black metal held by stone bars entry.
"... Uhm, Arianna, I wanted to ask," Ophilia looks to the former maid, "You see, I am a cleric of the Church... And I wanted to come to find a bishop that I believe is coming here..."
"A bishop?" Arianna seems to think a moment, "You must mean... Father Eschard."
"...! Yes, exactly," Ophilia nods eagerly, "Is he well known here?"
"The patrons that are particularly powerful or famous are well known among us, yes... They demand special attentions from the master of the house," Arianna says tentatively, "I had not dealt directly with the bishop, but I heard he is very... promiscuous towards those younger than him in particular..."
Ophilia makes a slight face, "Younger women, you say..."
"It's not a taste that is unique to him. For the most part, almost no patrons ask for older women," Arianna says softly, "The young women that came and left as soon as a wind blowing... They were all for those tastes. No doubt they easily found buyers."
"For a bishop, though... That's awful," Ophilia sighs.
The gates open for them when Arianna shows her face to some of the watchdog guards. They are dressed in black garbs with a silvery crow pins. One of them eyes Ophilia suspiciously.
"A new one?" He asks gruffly.
"Y-yes," Ophilia nods and quickly curtsies while thinking on her feet, "I'm, uh, Li- I mean, Anna."
"Huh..."
"Go on," The other guard says dismissively, "We have guests waiting."
Inside the Parlor main hall, Ophilia sees that it is well lit enough. The light is prevented from reaching outside by the curtains, which probably helps hide this place in a dark night. Silvery candelabras topped with lamp shades line the walls of the walls of the manor going inward through the wide and spacious halls. Arianna gestures to follow her down a particular way.
"We need to go wait until someone calls us to work..." She explains, "The patrons sometimes come to pick us. Other times, the master of the house assigns us..."
"I see..." Ophilia nods. She looks around at the Tuscan pillars and masterful paintings showing gripping scenes of men and monsters. The walls are a darker hue of purple. While red curtains face outside, the interior curtains are indigo. Wooden designs line the balconies and supplement the stone pillar walls. There are stone pots holding luminous flowers for interior decoration.
Arianna leads the cleric to a large sort of bedroom. There are three other girls here. They look rather tired and are resting on the bed and davenport.
"Ah, Henriette, Luffie, Jura," Arianna gives a wan smile towards them.
"Night shift, Arianna?" One of the girls speak up, seemingly about to drift to sleep, "It's been a slow day."
"Oh? That's... too bad."
"Who's that?" Another of the girls points at Ophilia, "Never seen her before!"
"Oh, uh, she is a new worker. She just came today..." Arianna answers quickly.
"Uh, yes! I came from... from Atlasdam!" Ophilia fibs and bows, "It's very nice to meet you all!"
Her overly polite gesture makes the three girls burst into laughter.
"You're not going to make it long here like that!" One of them guffaws.
"Well, it is the kink of many a man..." Another giggles, "But they take it too far and you're dead."
Ophilia blushes a little.
They aren't given much time to rest as there is a sudden knock at the door. Arianna opens it to reveal an Obsidian agent.
"Today, you'll be shown off a bit," The Obsidian grunts, "Come on, then."
Ophilia follows behind Arianna as the other girls lag a bit. They are led through a series of poorly lit backrooms to an elevated area of a larger, grand room. Here, there is a portrait at the back wall showing dreary weather and a single burst of lightning. To the sides, the curtains here are drawn, allowing in the dim light from the snowy darkness outside. The girls are told to line up by the wall. Before them is the doorway into this grand room, with plush couches and other decoration. Lamps light the sides of the room, giving it a dim ambience. Some other Obsidians line the walls of the room, quiet as statues hiding in plain sight.
The doors are opened promptly and a large man strides in. He has shoulder-length blonde hair that is firmly plastered to his head, splaying out towards his neck. His skin is of a dark tone and his muscled arms look like they could rival Olberic's. His left arm is exposed, showing off a black crow motif on his upper arm. His right arm is covered with a shredded sleeve extended from his black coat with a hood. The coat is loosely secured at his front with a string. He wears dark clothes with two leather belts and dark leather boots. His face is rather stern and yet also not without handsomeness.
"Master Rufus," The Obsidian bows at his entry. Ophilia sees the other girls all curtsy and bow. She follows suit hastily.
"At ease, ladies and gentlemen," Rufus says with a deep, rolling voice, "We have some guests today, new and old. I wanted to show them our hospitality. I hope you do not disappoint the house."
His gaze lands on Ophilia.
"... Who's the new girl?"
"...!" Ophilia stiffens. She sees Arianna signal with her eyes a little. The cleric speaks as steadily as she can, "I am Anna ... master."
"Anna, hm? I don't remember your face from before... Were you sold recently?" Rufus rubs his chin as he walks closer to examine her.
"Um, yes... I was ... from Atlasdam," Ophilia clenches a hand on her skirts, "I came because... I heard I could get work..."
"Hm. You heard right... A pretty face like yours is like that of a virgin, which is good as gold in this business," Rufus seems to think, "... This should work out then. I'll give you to the whelp that showed up today... Some kid named Ashlan Greenwood."
"Uh, t-thank you...?" Ophilia quickly adds, "I mean, I'm very grateful for this opportunity, master..."
Rufus smirks and gestures for one of the statuesque lackeys to take Ophilia away to a side hallway, "Ashlan is waiting in room indigo. Do show him our best. New blood customers are always hard to please. He paid well, too."
Ophilia swallows slightly and she tries to keep her nerves calm as she is led away. She glances over her shoulder briefly to see Arianna give her a helpless smile of encouragement.
"..."
Ashlan Greenwood... What kind of a person could this be...?
...
After Ophilia is led away, Rufus gazes over his remainder of whores. He rubs his chin and eyes Arianna in particular.
"My friend, father Eschard... He unfortunately had to suffer the loss of his beloved daughter recently. He loved her very much and was in mourning in recent months... until now."
The girls share side glances among one another.
"I wish to give him a semblance of what he had lost. His daughter was a beautiful woman... but one as beautiful as she was also desired by other men... and she was unduly sullied by a man that was not to be her husband," Rufus gives a sigh that might have been sympathy were it not he, "She took her own life to avoid dishonor. And on her own wedding's eve. Such a sorrow that is for Father Eschard. The Gods are such fickle creatures."
Arianna looks down a little, sweating.
"To comfort the father in this time of need... Arianna, you will go to him. You are roughly the age of his daughter at her passing..." Rufus points to her with finality, "I trust you will sooth his wounded heart however he so desires."
"Y-yes, of course," Arianna bows, "Thank you, Master Rufus... for such an opportunity."
Rufus nods and Arianna is led away. The left wing of the crow now gestures to have his own lavish recliner bought out, "And the rest of you may indulge me for now."
"Yes, master..." The other girls all say a bit lifelessly.
The man sits down heavily on the plush furniture. He sighs and strokes the hair of one of the girls posited right by his knee. He smiles and chuckles in melancholy to himself.
"As a bishop in that Church... he will have to pay me back a great deal for this..." He says to himself, "Debts are such tricky business..."
The advice of the crow from that night is pushed to the back of his head a bit.
"...But one must make hay while the sun is shining."
...
The men's carriage meanwhile stops at the marked spot on the map amid a clearing in the wood. There are three escorts waiting here, dressed in dark garb with a pin of a silver crow atop their breast. Cyrus swallows a little.
"Halt!" They say brusquely, prompting Alfyn and Olberic to pull to a stop. Cyrus almost falls off despite the easy stop.
"Oh, we're here? Joy!" Marion can be heard moving in the carriage. The door opens and the squat noble steps out with his expensive-looking cane. He addresses the darkly dressed men, "From the house of Ulstrose. Marion Vifelliin Ulstrose!"
He produces the map and another parchment to the men. Therion narrows his eyes and looks down as he sees some other watchers in the trees. No more than four and no less than two. He taps his finger furtively on the carriage top. Olberic turns his head just slightly.
"... Welcome, duke Ulstrose," The men in black nod and gesture onward, where there is a path carved out between some trees. One can glimpse steps there, as well as stone where the snow was swept.
Bingo.
Duke Ulstrose practically hums as he goes off with one of the escorts. He turns and waves to the carriage crew before vanishing down the trail, "Be sure to come pick me back up before midnight!"
"Alright, you can go," The remaining Obsidians look to the coach seats and Cyrus, "No idling."
"Aw, really? I thought we could let the horses rest a bit," Alfyn chuckles good-naturedly, "It's been a cold night and they stood around a while!"
"Get going," One of the remaining escorts snarls gruffly.
Olberic clears his throat "I'm afraid we have business to attend to... at the parlor."
The warrior pulls the reins and the horses rear up, startling the escorts. Those hidden among the trees run out. Therion throws a dagger and nails one of them down quickly. One of the hidden ones fire a crossbow at the carriage and Simeon just barely ducks below the projectile aim.
"Hold on!"
The warrior directs the horses towards the cleared steps and the steeds gallop forward. The escorts are forced to jump out of the way or be trampled.
"Urk- stop them!" They shout.
"Woah!" Alfyn holds on tight as the carriage wheels thrash and bounce on the steps.
"Hm?" Marion and his escort can be seen turning their heads to glance at what sound is coming from behind them.
"P-please get out of the waaay!" Cyrus shouts as he grasps the horse's neck for dear life.
Marion and the escort scream in surprise as they dive out of the way from the hijacked carriage, landing in the surrounding trees and bushes.
"Oh dear, oh dear..." Simeon sweats as he dodges yet another bolt that flies at them, "Keep going!"
There is a crunch as one of the wheels begin to buckle from the rough handling. By then, they have breached the front gate of the Parlor, which lacks a fence. The carriage barrels into the front yard, skidding to a stop and nearly falling over.
"Nice driving...!" Therion says sarcastically as he hops off the roof.
Almost immediately, some guards that were nodding off spring into action to surround the intruders. Olberic draws his blade.
"Quickly! Inside!" He barks, "I shall cover the rear!"
"A-alright!" Alfyn draws his axe and hurriedly runs to the door, forcing at it, "Hnngh...!"
The doors do creak open and Alfyn is almost bisected by a blade that flies out at him, if not for Therion pulling him back.
"Oh no... we're going to be pincered...!" Simeon exclaims.
Cyrus pulls out his spellbook and declares, "Ice! Pierce them through!"
The tome focus glows, as does the surrounding snow in their surroundings. Empowered by the extant chill, the spell manifests even more easily than usual and thrusts icicles right up against their flocks of foes.
"Argh!"
"W-who are these louts?!"
"Alert master Rufus!"
Olberic smashes through the Obsidian footmen with his blade, "Rufus... That man is Primrose's target... we should try to find him as well!"
"It seems we can turn the tides!" Cyrus follows up with a lightning spell that fries several of their pursuers.
"Alright, let's go!" Alfyn and Therion run in. The thief's perceptive ears overhear the shouting coming closer to them from inside. They're attracting the attention towards themselves...
"This way," He says briskly and pulls Alfyn down another hallway.
"They've got a big warrior and some spellcaster!" The Obsidians shout as they try to rally against the invaders, "C'mon, we can take them!"
That guy gets a knee to the face as Therion jumps over him.
"My, this is turning out to be quite the mess...!" Simeon bemoans as he tries to avoid getting slashed to ribbons amid the fray.
...
"Say, Prim?"
"Yes, Tressa?"
The dancer and merchant make their way through the cave tunnels that will supposedly lead them directly to the master chambers. There are signs that this place was outfitted for stealthy getaways, meaning it likely does lead somewhere...
"Exactly... what kinda agenda do you have with these Obsidians?" Tressa asks curiously as they traverse over the rocky pathways with signs of path markers lain from prior. Her torch serves as their light source, though there are unlit sconces near certain rock formations.
"... What do you mean?" The dancer dodges the question as she winds about a tall stalagmite.
"Well, I mean, you came all the way searching for these guys, right? Why here? Why this Rufus guy?" The merchant tilts her head, "You're not really a vigilante type, so it's not some gung-ho reason like justice or anything, right?"
Primrose chuckles, "You're closer than you think. But you are right. I am no do-gooder. Perhaps, more than justice, it is retribution I seek."
"These Obsidians did something to you?" Tressa hops over a rock, "Then again, from the sound of it-"
"... shh."
Tressa pauses as Primrose stops and presses a finger to her lips. The merchant notices an unnatural glow moving ahead, peering out from behind some tall rocks. There is also a heavy clanking of metal...
"Uhh..." Tressa hides the light of her torch a bit as she and Primrose duck behind some stones. They watch as the light is accompanied by a massive shape that becomes illuminated as it nears.
It looks like a suit of armor. However, instead of a helmet, there is a glowing yellowish flame that shines bright and even sparkles. It appears to be confined to the armor within some kind of cage. The armor bears a heavy looking halberd and creaks as it walks mechanically through the cave. For now, it doesn't seem to have noticed the two crouched nearby.
"Well then... it looks like we are on the right track..." Primrose whispers.
"That's a... guardian, right? My Pa showed me one once... Some high n' mighty merchant was showing one around. It was guarding his shipments..." Tressa swallows at the intimidating visage, "Its head wasn't glowing that bright though..."
"Where there is a guardian, there should be something worth guarding..." Primrose licks her lips and gestures to move quickly. She pulls Tressa along as they move to skirt into the direction the guardian came from.
There is a loud caw, as if in warning. A flutter of wings can be heard as an ash raven swoops right at Tressa's torch. The merchant gives a screech as the bird makes a horrific claw attack at her. She feels those talons rake at her arm and she drops the torch. The wood clatters onto the cave floor with a thunk.
Primrose curses and quickly moves to get between Tressa and where the guardian now turns and charges towards them, halberd raised. Despite its large frame, it moves as fluidly as a human does and moves to bring down its polearm, head blazing light.
"Tsk...!" Primrose spins and clashes with that strike, using a veil of her dark energy, "Tressa, move!"
"Auh, y-yeah!" Tressa feels herself shaking uncontrollably as she scrambles to get away. Her legs won't move properly, having turned to jello. The surprise seems to have shaken her badly.
"CAW!" The raven persistently goes at the frightened girl while Primrose is occupied with the guardian.
"Gyaaa! Leave me a-alone!" Tressa's eyes are wide and she sends a blast of wind from her hands. The emotional instability roils her power and a strong gust blasts the raven straight into the stalactites overhead, where it smashes into the rock and splatters motionless onto the cave floor.
"Good work... Hmf!" Primrose skirts around the large frame, dancing to its rear. With a dagger, she manages to wrench the blade right into the cage containing its glowing "head" of light.
"You could do with some blinders~"
Her dagger blasts a wave of darkness out from its edge. The guardian's armored body shakes and rattles as its head light flickers against the dancer's dark magic. After it flashes for the fifth time, the light goes out and the entire suit of armor collapses into a motionless heap with a loud crash.
"Whew..." The dancer pants and then looks to see Tressa crouching nearby. The torch has been extinguished, "Tressa?"
"P-Prim?" Tressa asks in a high-pitched squeak, "I-It's dark...! I can't... Where are you?"
The dancer swiftly walks to the merchant's side and kneels down by the girl. She sees Tressa is trembling, clutching her arm where the raven talons drew blood. The dancer's eyes soften and she places her hands gently on the girl's shaking shoulders.
"Tressa, take a breath, alright? I'm right here... The bird is gone," The dancer assures her softly.
Tressa whimpers slightly and desperately presses herself against Primrose like a frightened child. The dancer can feel her trembling. She gently holds Tressa in her arms, letting her voice soothe the fear.
"You did very well, Tressa," Primrose croons softly, rubbing the merchant's head, "It's alright now..."
"..." Tressa sniffles, calming down. She hides her face on Primrose a little before pulling off slightly, "... s-sorry, Prim..."
"That's nothing to be sorry about," Primrose smiles, though Tressa can't really see it, "That bird was a rather nasty surprise."
"I-It felt like something really bad scratched me and everything just suddenly started swimming and got all dark and..." Tressa shudders a little, "I'm fine now, though..."
The merchant's eyes trail past the dancer towards a glimmer in the dark, amid the heap of guardian armor on the floor. When she tries standing to move towards it, she finds her knees buckle and she ends up sitting on Primrose's lap.
"Nh!"
"Ah..." Primrose helps her up, "Your legs are still shaking?"
"N-no..." Tressa fibs, "They just suddenly got tired!"
"Hmm... You used a large burst of magic due to your fear... Perhaps a bit too much..." Primrose says pensively, "Are you sure you can handle coming with me?"
"Uh- Of course!" Tressa says, sounding offended at the insinuation, "I can ... get past some sea legs! That bird just took me by surprise, is all!"
She clumsily and slowly makes her way to the shining thing and sifts through the pieces of the collapsed guardian. The source of the glow is a curious stone that glimmers like white flame.
"Woah..." Tressa's eyes sparkle, "This has to be... a soulstone!"
"Hmm... Perhaps that is what was powering that guardian..." Primrose thinks a moment, "I guess it withstood my attack."
"Hehe, this could come in handy..." Tressa puts it away within a fold of her dress, "Yep, I'm good to go!"
"... If it gets too hard, don't push yourself, alright?" Primrose stands and dusts herself down, "You have a family to return to."
"Don't underestimate me!" Tressa huffs as she lights another torch in the dark, "I can hold my own! You know that, Prim! I got yer back!"
Primrose chuckles lightly and looks onward into the darkness. The path here splits. One side is fenced and the other leads downward. There is a draft coming from the former...
"I think we might be close," The dancer gestures to follow, "This time, we'll keep an eye out for any of their crony birds."
"Sheesh... I can't believe they trained birds to watch this place..." Tressa grumbles.
"It is likely some kind of secret route for secret patrons... or even an emergency escape in the times needed from the Parlor," Primrose shrugs.
As they follow the fenced path in the cave tunnel, they see it slowly cease to be simple cave walls. There is stonework that was built into these walls, stretching further ahead. They see the light of a torch beside a door emblazoned with the mark of the silver crow.
"Jackpot...!" Tressa exclaims silently.
Primrose puts a hand to her lips to shush her briefly. The dancer's keen ears hear something arising from behind that door. It's the voices of men in urgency.
"They're coming in from the front!"
"Keep them away from the guests!"
"Master Rufus!"
"I'll be right out," A voice rises above the rest, "I'll take care of the little intrusions."
Primrose recognizes that voice. One of the voices that spoke that night her father was murdered... This is it.
"Ready?" Primrose whispers to Tressa, "This indeed leads right to the man I seek."
"R-right..." Tressa swallows and pulls out her polearm.
The two of them go to bust down the door.
...
Ophilia nervously looks around the hallways she is led down as she is escorted to the guest she has to entertain. She has to be sure she can find her way back.
The escort stops before a certain door by a nice vase and opens the door, gesturing for her to enter. She timidly pokes her head in, "Excuse me..."
The room is a furnished bedroom, she sees. There is a lavish bed with a canopy, large enough for three people. A set of candles on stands illuminate before a window with drawn curtains. There is a nice-looking sofa before a closet door and even a wash basin is provided in the corner. It's like an upscale inn room.
Sitting on the bed is a young man with short, messy blonde hair. He wears largely green clothes in different hues, having a dark green cape, a gray-green tunic, and dark blue pants. He appears to have adventuring packs slung along his back and his waist. Resting against the wall opposite from him is a bow and quiver, presumably his. He looks with auburn eyes at the sound of the cleric's voice. Ophilia is shocked, as he looks to be Alfyn's age.
"Oh... hello there," He stands quickly and says awkwardly, "...Wait, where is Rufus? I requested to meet with him specifically..."
"The master is busy," The escort says gruffly, "He bids you enjoy yourself while you are here, and offers you this fresh maiden."
"But I-"
The escort shoves Ophilia in and shuts the door behind her without waiting for him to finish. Ophilia trips forward a bit and lands on the floor. Ashlan stands and hurries to offer her a hand up.
"Ah, are you alright?" He asks.
"Oof, yes..." Ophilia takes his hand gratefully, "Uhm... You... are the patron? Ashlan Greenwood?"
"Uh, yes. Um... I ... I mean no offense. You are very beautiful, but..." Ashlan chuckles helplessly, "I didn't come for the comfort of a woman tonight..."
"Oh?" Ophilia raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean? Isn't that ... what this place is for?"
"Well, I had heard as much, yes... but the master, Rufus, is also a great informant with many eyes and ears throughout the land... I had been hoping he would be of help in aiding me in the search for my father..." Ashlan says with a hint of sadness in his eyes as he goes to sit back down on the edge of the bed.
"Oh! I'm so sorry..." Ophilia apologizes and realizes she did so out of habit, "Your father is missing?"
"Aye... It has been many moons now since he had..." He falls silent for a second.
"... Ah, you don't have to tell me if it is painful. I am but a stranger after all..." Ophilia assures him. She goes to sit next to him on the soft mattress.
Ashlan looks to her with an amused smile creeping up his lips, "You are... not at all the kind of woman I thought would work in such a place."
"Eh? Oh, uhh..." Ophilia remembers her cover story, "I-I only just started, so I must not be very good!"
"I mean that... Well, I'm not exactly sure either. I don't frequent these places. I came only in search of leads Rufus might provide," He sighs heavily, "But it seems I will have to resume my search empty handed."
"That is indeed a shame... Surely there are other people here that can help you?" Ophilia asks hopefully, "The Church is quite... erm... Well, they might be able to direct you to someone..."
"The Church... Unfortunately, I cannot consult them about this..." He shakes his head, looking frustrated, "I don't think they would want to help."
"Why not?"
"... The church has certain views about certain people... One such people is the clan of the Greenwood, the beast tamers," He sighs louder, "Of which I and my father are members... The sole survivors."
"Greenwood? Ah, your last name..." Ophilia thinks back to H'aanit's name of the Darkwood. There is an uncanny similarity...
"The Greenwood clan has earned a wicked reputation of harnessing the blood of monsters. As such, there were edicts issued by the Church against our way of life. For a long time, I considered it a hindrance... until my father succumbed to our clan's accursed power..." He hangs his head, "Now, I cannot even ask them for aid when I was so foolish to spurn their warnings."
"Your father is under a curse?" Ophilia asks softly.
"... Aye... I don't know where he is. The curse drove him mad and I have been chasing what is like a ghost ever since," He looks to her, "We of the Greenwood are tamers of beasts. What it entails is allowing our emotions to connect so we may better synchronize and move as one. However, there are dark sides of this power. According to old tales, if a Greenwood desires greater power, they can allow the beast to overcome them and grant them the same strength and guile..."
Ophilia frowns for a moment. That sounded strangely like how H'aanit channeled a beast's power to change her form in battle. Like how she had become a frost bear in the Cave of Origin... The cleric wishes she had asked more about that strange power.
"Ah, where are my manners. I forgot to introduce myself," Ophilia smiles, "I am Ophilia. I'm afraid I... have not been fully truthful with you, Ashlan. For I am actually a cleric in disguise here."
Ashlan blinks at her. That amused smile creeps up on his face again and he lets out a brief laugh, "I... I might have guessed of your demeanor."
He chuckles a little more, "Why is a Sister of the church like you here in such a place?"
"I came looking for a bishop that I heard was frequenting this place," Ophilia sighs, "Unfortunately, they decided to just have me entertain you."
"I'm afraid I'm not the best company," Ashlan relaxes more around her, "Though... You have an easing presence. I feel a little better, telling you of my troubles."
"Ah, that's good," Ophilia smiles, "Though... it seems neither of us got what we came here for..."
"I suppose not..." Ashlan stands now, "Well, how I take you out of here? It might save you some trouble."
"Oh, really?" Ophilia perks up, "I... I don't want to be any trouble."
"Nonsense. I'm sure-"
There is a sudden throng of sounds that erupts from outside their room. People can be heard angrily shouting and there is the clashing of metal.
"... don't let them through!"
"Cripes! They're strong...!"
"What's going on out there?" Ashlan hurries to grab his bow and quiver, slinging it across his back.
"Uhh..." Ophilia hears a familiar bellow that makes her double take, "Olberic...?
"HAVE AT YOU!"
Yep, that's the familiar warrior's aggressive tone and voice...
"Stand back, Ophilia," Ashlan nocks his arrow, "It seems a ruckus has kicked up here of all places..."
"Actually, um, those are my companions!" Ophilia speaks up, "They must have run into trouble trying to get here..."
"Your companions?" Ashlan raises an eyebrow, "They're fighting here...? Of all places?"
"It's a long story," Ophilia stands and gathers her skirts, "You said you wanted to meet Rufus? Well, I think he might be able to help me find the bishop I seek as well!"
"Um... You're saying..."
"Let's go find him! With this disturbance, I think we can traverse to his room much easier... I remember how I was led here," Ophilia gives him a look of confidence.
"... Alright. But stay within my sights," Ashlan nods, "I won't have harm befall a lady in my care."
...
Rufus had sent Arianna off to be Eschard's charge for the night. After assigning the others off, he had arranged for the necessary job to have Eschard's request taken care of. Some minor upstart liege of some land... It will be easy to wipe them off the face of this terra. And no one would really give a damn.
He had begun settling in with his choice women when a guard bursts in shouting that some invaders had run up to their front door and were trying to make their way into the sanctum of his parlor.
"I'll be right out," Rufus sighs and bids his harem pull off as he pulls on his clothes, "I'll take care of those little intrusions..."
Suddenly, a knife flies out at an angle from behind the Obsidian guard. The man is too slow to react as it stabs him in the neck, running through his throat.
"GUH-"
The dagger pulls out mercilessly, letting the blood spurt from its exit, flecking at least a meter of flooring. Rufus' harem screams and quickly flees from where he lay on a reclined sofa. Rufus himself stands, now at least decent. The guard collapses, gurgling on his own blood.
From the shadows, Primrose emerges, her bloody dagger having returned to her hand. Trailing close by is Tressa, trying to look as intimidating as possible with her polearm while not stepping on the dead guy on the floor.
"... We meet at last..." Primrose says with quiet restraint. The clamor of any encroaching threat outside this sanctum fades. Inside, she's absolutely trembling with anticipation to slit this man's throat. At long last, a step forward in her quest for vengeance!
"Hm? Dancers...?" Rufus raises an eyebrow, "Don't tell me it was just you two broke in here..."
"The mark of the accursed Crow on your left arm," Primrose points her dagger at Rufus with a reddish glint in her eye, "Do you have any idea... how long I've waited for this day? For this moment? How high and far I've searched?"
Rufus blinks, unamused, "Have we met?"
"..." Tressa looks with awkward worry between Rufus and Primrose.
"No, wait... A red dress... olive skin... and a nice body..." Rufus rubs his chin tentatively, "Yes, I do believe I've seen a dancer like you down south..."
"... Indeed, you met with Helgenish some time ago, didn't you?" Primrose smirks, "But no. Think back further. To the night you murdered Geoffrey Azelhart!"
Tressa blinks. Who?
"Azelhart..." Rufus narrows his eyes, "Then you must be..."
"I am Primrose Azelhart."
She said it so confidently. It feels like liberation to declare herself this way at last to the enemy she had hunted for so long. It was a name she rarely said nowadays, that releasing it into the ether through speech so made her feel a slight ecstatic chill.
"... The young lady of the house of Azelhart? My, it truly has been years," Rufus seems to acknowledge her claim, "You are a long way from home."
"You remember everything then? The house of Azelhart... and my father, who you slew in cold blood?" Primrose asks more forcefully.
Tressa stares at the dancer in respectful silence. Part of the merchant is wondering about the change in the dancer's attitude. Tressa had never seen her look like this.
Then again... if these guys killed her dad...
"... why yes. Geoffrey Azelhart... He was a handy one with the sword. Not a fool. It wasn't easy taking him down... Though he fell in the end anyways," Rufus' face twists into a mocking smile, "He was ultimately a man with too many enemies. That's not healthy, you see."
Tressa jumps a bit hearing some uproar outside the room as the sounds of clashing do not cease.
"And what gave you right to be executioner? Answer me," Primrose hisses, "Why did my father have to die that night?"
"He knew something he shouldn't have. Simple as that. Me and my friends were merely to sweep it all back under the carpet, see?" Rufus shrugs, "It was nothing personal."
"... Strike and you invite a strike in return," Primrose now lowers her dagger, though now her eyes bear blades in themselves, "I have never relinquished my memory of that night, of what you foul birds did, of any of it..."
"Holding onto hatred doesn't befit a pretty lady," Rufus saunters down the steps. He makes a gesture with his hand and some Obsidian associates that lay in waiting come out to surround Primrose and Tressa.
"Oh, shoot!" Tressa looks around with mounting panic at the surprise.
"You three, bearing the mark of the Crow; I will kill you all," Primrose declares, not scared at all, "For that is all that is left for me to believe in."
"...!" Tressa's eyes widen a little.
"Prepare to die, crow!"
Rufus chuckles, cracking his knuckles, "You aren't the first to have said such words to me... Like as not, you won't be the last."
He reaches the bottom of the stairs and faces the dancers with no less than four Obsidian associates bearing blades. He casts a sideways glance at Tressa.
"And you even had to bring a little friend with you? I pity her."
Primrose narrows her eyes. Tressa tightens her grip on her spear.
"Nonetheless, I will bury you both... as I've buried all the rest."
The rancor of battle outside their own is like a rousing chorus to a climax.
"I am Rufus, the left wing of the crow. Now come! Precious daughter of House Azelhart, I will send you to your father's side!"