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Mack the Knife [FIN]; Rin
Topic Started: Sat Jul 2, 2011 2:28 pm (1,831 Views)
Ezekial Smith
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It was night at the Taras Refugee Camp, and like night at any place where people gather, there were safe parts, and there were unsafe parts. In one of these unsafe parts, tucked away in a corner of the Camp, were two people: a woman, by the name of Alia Vurneks, and a man, known simply as the Red Lily Man. Alia was not in the bad-district by choice, she had to meet an acquiantance to retrieve a package of medicine. There were alchemists in the safer parts of the Camp, but they charged more than she could afford, so she was forced by circumstance to go to this alchemist, a Leonard McClue. She was not vigilant enough, however, to know that she was being followed by another, a Red Lily Man. The Red Lily Man was the title given to him by the guards, not a name of his own choosing, but one he had come to like. He stalked his victims silently, brushing up against the many tents as a kind of reckless thrill, to see if anyone could hear him. He was cautious enough, though, not to make too much noise.

Feeling that someone was watching her, Alia looked around wildly, breathing heavily and walking more quickly. Do you see what you get for your hesitation, boy? She's going to get away! You know she's one of them, a daemon in disguise, so go kill her! Kill her now, boy! The Red Lily Man heard this from the voices in his head, and he whispered back to them, "Be quiet, or we'll be heard." Taking large strides now, but still quietly, he came up behind the woman and grabbed her roughly by the mouth and nose, essentially gagging her. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped from his firm grasp. She clawed at his hand, trying to escape, but he withstood the pain, bringing a sharp dagger up in his right hand. Seeing the dagger, the woman fought back harder until the Red Lily Man stabbed her through the neck, partially severing the spinal cord, and wrenched the knife forward. There was a spurt of blood and some spasms from the dead woman, but after a few moments she was still. Laying her down gently, the Red Lily Man wiped his dagger on her blouse and stood, examining his handiwork. Good work, boy. Now, get out of here, or you'll be found. The Red Lily Man obeyed the voice after one action, placing a red lily on the chest of the victim.

In the morning, an old elf and a girl were walking through the Camp. They were tracking a powerful artifact known as a page that had reality-bending powers, a number of which made up the Grand Grimoire, made by the artificer Alibek. Ezekial turned to the girl, and asked,

"Can you feel a page here?" Feeling silly for asking when he had his lantern, he put both hands on its handle and closed his eyes. On the ethereal plane, he could feel a bit of the neutrality, but like the previous time, it was enshrined in a malignancy. He frowned, but was distracted when he heard the voices of a large crowd. Walking towards them, he could see two men crouching over something, and a lifeless hand outstretched, past the crowd. Suddenly serious, he forced his way past the crowd and into the center, and kneeled next to the body. The two young men, obviously guards from their armor began to protest, but Ezekial stopped them saying, "Judging by rigor mortis, she has been here for at least six hours." He rolled her onto her side and pulled her blouse up her back, seeing no dark areas. "Lack of livor mortis indicated that she was fully clothed up to the time she died. Cloudiness in the eyes are consistent with this, and lack of maggots indicate that she had been here less than eighteen hours. The best method would be to take a liver temperature, but I don't have a thermometer. Who found her?" The guards looked at each other, and decided to include Ezekial in the investigation.

Listening to the guards, Ezekial stood and walked to Rin. "Could you feel it? She has a touch of the malignancy upon her. I think whatever has the page killed her. Apparently there have been several murders like this in the last few weeks, and the guards don't know a thing about potential suspects. The people seem random, the only thing similar being that they were going to this part of the Camp." He frowned, and thought that this might turn out like the Kanva murders decades ago, when a man in the fairly large village of Kanva killed a number of young women. The man played tricks on the investigators, from sending them riddles to his next victim to dressing up a golem like a dead woman for the investigators to find. The man got away, and to this day nobody knows who he was.
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Rin
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He sat in his tent, endlessly honing the edge of his dagger with a whetstone. No one else occupied the shoddy structure; in fact, it was not even truly his. The Red Lily Man had killed the woman who had lived here, and none of her neighbors had even noticed her absence. The voices had instructed him on how to dispose of the body, and no one had any idea where people lived in the labyrinth of tents and hovels anyway. He had watched the tent for days after the killing to make sure no guard or family member came to investigate, but no one had, and so he had moved in. He tenderly laid a finger on the edge of the blade, reveling in the line of red that immediately appeared along the ball of his thumb. He gingerly laid the dagger across his knees, one hand clutching the hilt tightly. “No, I’m NOT going to do that. We already culled one daemon tonight. Another would be too risky.” He cocked his head to one side, eyes focused on a point far outside the boundaries of the tent as he listened. “What do you mean, righteous powers?” He stood suddenly, still holding the dagger tightly as he paced around the perimeter of the tent. He stopped as suddenly as he had started, staring at the dagger. He slowly uncurled his fingers so that it rested on his palm, staring at it with maddening focus. The dagger slowly lifted from his palm, spinning in midair like a top. A slow grin spread across his face as he watched it levitate, his eyes gleaming with malice and madness. “Oh… I see…”



Rin was humming as she and Ezekial entered the refugee camp, a smile on her fine features. Their experiences on the boardwalk had been scary, but entirely worth the risk. She had collected another page of the Grimoire, and just a few days later, they were closing in on another one! Teaming up with the elderly elf had been a great decision, despite the Grimoire’s initial reluctance to reveal its weakened and scattered state to anyone besides its construct. Rin was not a simple humane teenager, but instead an artificial body and intelligence crafted by the book. Its pages, which possessed the ability to alter reality around them, had been scattered across the realm of Imythess, so it had created the girl to hunt them down and collect them. She currently possessed several pages, hidden in the silver ribbons wrapped around her forearms and shins. Her only other clothing was a simple white sundress, and she carried a worn leather satchel with a large pouch slung across her back.

The priest turned to her, asking if there was a page nearby. “I think so… Let me check.” Rin closed her eyes to focus on the Grimoire’s essence, searching for a nearby fragment of the sentient book. Its power clung to the Refugee Camp like a thick fog, as if it had walked all of these paths, and recently. She opened her eyes dejectedly, knowing that the page would be much more difficult to find if it was being moved around the camp. Ezekial had wandered away from the girl as she dowsed, approaching a pair of guards standing over a still form. Pursing her lips in annoyance at his absent mindedness, she followed the elf, planning on berating him for ignoring her. Her annoyance faded as she neared the elf, easily slipping through the crowd around the priest and the two guards. The body on the ground was unmistakably dead. Her throat had been violently slit, opening her neck from ear to ear. A pool of blood had spread around the body, filling the air with its cloying odor. Rin turned away from the corpse, oblivious to the red flower on the woman’s chest. She pressed back through the crowd, her eyes wide.

She could feel that the page had been here. Whoever had killed that poor girl had it in his possession. She was absolutely positive. The wound itself, although no longer warm, still pulsed with the essence of the Grimoire. Someone was using her page to kill people. Rin was literally shaking with fury when Ezekial approached her, revealing he had sensed the same presence on the woman’s body. “This… This is a bad man, Ezekial. Worse than the bloodwrath, worse than the roulette man. This man is… evil.” Unshed tears glittered in her blue eyes, and she stared up at the elf with an expression that bordered on obsessive. “We have to help. We have to find him. We have to stop him.” Her hand went to the satchel, slipping inside the worn leather to grip the longsword she kept hidden within. She was unaware that they had already unofficially become participants in the investigation. “I will not let anyone use a page for evil. Never.”
Edited by Rin, Tue Jul 5, 2011 5:21 pm.
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Ezekial Smith
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Ezekial listened to Rin, his expression ranging from surprise at her apparent obsessiveness, to excited and filled with righteous fervor. “This… This is a bad man, Ezekial. Worse than the bloodwrath, worse than the roulette man. This man is… evil.” We have to help. We have to find him. We have to stop him. I will not let anyone use a page for evil. Never.” Ezekial agreed, and replied,

"I agree with you, but we can't go into this haphazardly. This person is definitely dangerous and we'll have to be careful if we want to capture him. We're part of the investigation now, so we can't go running off. Come here, and I'll introduce you to the partners." He motioned for her to follow him to the body, and met with the other two guards. They were human, both in their early twenties, with high-and-tights. They nodded their heads to acknowledge Rin, both obviously uneasy with involving a woman in this sort of thing. Noticing this, Ezekial said, "Boys, this is Rin. She'll be working with us on this case, and don't give me any grief about it. She probably has more combat experience than the two of you greenhorns combined, so lock it down." They both sighed inwardly, and made an attempt to smile. One of them, with a trio of interlaced circles forming a crest upon his breastplace, and with blond hair, stepped forward, holding out his hand.

"My name's Callohan. Glad to have you wish us." The next man, his crest being a Tudor rose, and with dark brown hair, stepped forward in a similar manner, holding out his hand as well.

"The name's Rory. Good to have the manpower." Rory stepped back, and spred his arms, beginning to explain the situation. "Well, we think that this murder is done by a person who's murdered several times before, always at night, always women. As far as we can tell, the murders are random, the only thing they all had in common is that they were murdered here, in this district. All of them were killed in the same way, from the man down at the morgue, Lakis, a sharp knife severed their spine and ripped forward. He could see a few bruises that showed that the killer gripped them tightly 'round the mouth area. We don't have a suspect yet, so we've just been callin' him the 'Red Lily Man', from the red lily he always leaves on the corpse." Rory pointed to the flower on Alia's chest, beginning to wilt, and continued. "We've identified the woman as Alia Vurneks, from a neighboring district. From searching the body, we found a slip of paper that mentions a 'Leonard McClue', apparently an alchemist in this district. We'll be paying him a visit once Lakis' boys come down here to get the body, and here they are." A group of three men came in a horse-driven cart, and two of the young men stepped down , wrapping the body in a white sheet, and placed her gingerly into the cart before riding off, leaving a pool of blood in the dirt.

They walked a little while, and stood in front of a tent. Rory opened the flap, and dodged a glass jar thrown at him.

"Don't bloody walk in here without announcing yourself, ya ponce! I've got enough work to do without you distracting me from it!" The four of them walked into the tent, seeing an angry man, tall and gangly sitting astride a chair with his arms draped over the back. Rory leaned to the two newcomers, whipsering,

"Don't mind him, he's the town eccentric. He's mostly harmless. Mostly."
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Rin
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Rin followed the elf over to the guardsmen, a stern expression still on her face. The fact that one of the pages had been used for such a despicable act tied her stomach in knots, giving birth to a fierce kernel of rage in her chest. Her free fist remained clenched in a tight ball, imperceptibly shaking, while her other hand was clenched around the hilt of her longsword so tightly the knuckles were white. For the first time since she began traveling with Ezekial, there was not even a shred of happiness on her face. Her eyes were still narrowed, and her lips were pressed together in a thin line.

He is right. Acting rashly will get you killed.

Do not even talk to me so calmly! How can you allow your pages to be used like this?


The Grimoire sighed tiredly, its tone taking on that of a schoolteacher. The pages are not evil, Rinrae. Nor are they good. They simply possess a small degree of my power to alter reality. Any being with sufficient willpower may wield them to change the world to reflect their truest desires. A saint could cure a plague. A madman could slaughter innocents invisibly. I have no control over how they are used, which is why they must be collected. Truly neutral items are too powerful to remain free in the world.

Rin thought about the Grimoire’s words as she was introduced to the guardsmen. They both seemed likable enough, although they were clearly uncomfortable with her presence. The girl assumed that her age was the reason for their uncertainty; she looked to be no older than a teenager, despite the augmentations he body had been created with. She almost explained that she was much more durable than she appeared to the men, but Ezekial spoke up first, chastising the men for judging her based on her appearance alone. A small smile finally returned to her face as the elf told the guards she was probably more skilled than them, although she tried very hard to not look smug at his declaration. “Greetings Callohan and Rory. I will try to be as helpful as possible.” The girl’s fingers relaxed, letting go of the hilt of her weapon. The Grimoire was right; the pages were not the source of this evil, but rather the man or woman who was using it for such nefarious deeds. She would find them and punish them, and the matter would be resolved.

The girl listened attentively as Rory explained the state of the victim’s body, studying the corpse with intense focus. She chose to not take offense at the word ‘manpower,’ although the guard had pointedly stared at her as he said it. She mutely observed as the corpse was removed from the street and tenderly wrapped in a white blanket to be disposed of properly. They left other men to clean up the puddle of blood, following Rory and Callohan to a nearby tent. A piece of glassware was immediately hurled at them upon entering, and Rin instinctively reached for her weapon before realizing the attacker was also the purpose of their visit. She smiled brightly at the gangly man, her eyes sparkling. “Hello, Mister Leonard. My name is Rin. Are you busy?” She was the very essence of courtesy, although a part of her was still seething at the murderer with the page.

“Of course I’m busy, girl! Half the camp needs this potion or that potion or some elixir or other and do you see anyone else helping me out?” The man lifted another glass, contemplating if a second projectile would cause these trespassers to leave, but decided against it. He set the piece of glassware down, wearily massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. “What do you want, Rory? And why did you bring a child with you?” Rin bit her lip to keep from responding with an acerbic retort, deciding it would probably be best if Ezekial or one of the guards handled this conversation.
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Ezekial Smith
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“Of course I’m busy, girl! Half the camp needs this potion or that potion or some elixir or other and do you see anyone else helping me out? What do you want, Rory? And why did you bring a child with you?” Rory sighed, and replied,

"Stop complaining for a second, McClue, and listen to me. It's about a woman named Alia Vurneks, she was a customer of yours. What can you tell us about her?" McClue sat back in his chair, and put a hand to his chin, trying to remember. He muttered the name several times and turned around, thumbing through a stack of papers before pulling out one and holding it up to read. He paused, and said,

"This has a note stating that it's confidential, you know."

"We're not a bunch of civies, McClue, we're the Guard. Read it." McClue scowled, and began to read.

"Prescription for Alia Vurneks, to be picked up yesterday, cost: thirteen gold, six silverings. She was buying an anti-petrification potion, said that it was for her son." There was a pause, Rory obviously expecting more, and Callohan said,

"She didn't have a son. Are you sure she said it was for her son? Was there anything else?" McClue scowled, and shouted back,

"I told you all I know, so get off my back about it! If you don't want to listen to what I have to say, then get out of my tent! I have work to do, and I don't have time to watch you two play detective!" The rant continued, but they left the tent when he began to incorporate obscenities and vile oaths. Rory sighed, and said,

"I suppose that that wasn't particularly fruitful. Well, at least we know that she was buying anti-petrification medicine, and that she lied about who she was buying it for." Ezekial cupped his chin in his hand, ruminating on the situation. An unknown man killing women in the dead of night without being seen by anyone. A red lily used to mark his victims. A midnight rendezvous between one victim and this McClue character. It didn't make sense, but there were surely pieces he was missing. He thought of something, and spoke up, saying,

"Have you had someone search her tent yet? I'll want to go and look it over, as well as the tents of the other victims. Perhaps I'll be able to see something that you missed." Rory agreed, and began talking about where the other tents were located.



The Red Lily Man stood in the crowd, watching the four struggle to find him. He put a hand on his dagger inside his cloak and smiled. Not today, not ever. You will never catch me if you keep bumbling about. It was very good, his hiding place, by standing in the crowd he could blend in with the gawkers and curious folk and rely on the sheer number of people to hide him. His gaze moved to the girl in the group. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He thought that the white dress she was in was far too simple for her, when the voice spoke up. You fool, be more careful! She's one of the strongest of the daemon here! If you stay here too long she'll smell you out and have you killed for your secret mission. All that these people know is that somebody murdered four, no, three women and if they know it was you they'll have you lynched. You'll have to suppress your lust and kill that girl, but be careful to do it when she is alone, the man she is wish, the old elf, is very powerful. She tricked him into aiding her, so to free him you must kill her. Now, leave before she has a chance to stop you. The Red Lily Man was very disappointed, and he turned away. He thought of what a shame it would be to sully her like that, but decided that as regrettable as it was, it was something he would have to do. He fought his way through the crowd and left, walking fairly briskly.
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Rin
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Rin listened to the conversation with the frazzled alchemist attentively, knowing that his words were the only true clues they had as to the killer’s motives. However, nothing he was saying made any sense. The victim, a common girl named Alia, had approached the alchemist in order to purchase a potion that would reverse petrification. The girl pondered this revelation as the guards questioned McClue further, posing an internal question to the Grimoire. What can cause... petrification?

Many things, Rinrae. Petrification is a state of being unnaturally frozen. There are several rare creatures whose gaze can freeze people: basilisks, cockatrices, and some powerful gorgons. Several curses have the same effect. Any mediocre mage can probably cast such a spell.

Rin’s frown deepened. She was sure the guards would have mentioned if Alia was a magic-user, so someone else must have been involved. Or something. The alchemist began to ramble at Callohan when pressed for information, so the quartet turned to leave the tent. Rin made sure to turn to the alchemist and smile brightly at him before they departed. “Thank you, Mister Leonard. You have been very helpful.” The ire in the man’s eyes faded, replaced with pure exhaustion, and he turned away to mumble inherently at the items inexpertly stacked on his desk.

Stepping out of the tent, the girl shivered. There was something wrong here, something that made her skin itch. Although it was a completely new feeling for the girl, she intrinsically knew that someone was watching her. There was a crowd around the alchemist’s tent, the denizens of the Refugee Camp calling out to the two guards to ask if they learned anything. Rin scanned the crowd, attempting to locate the source of the eerie sensation, but none of the faces looked familiar or overly interested in the girl. She closed her eyes, her breathing slowing as she let the presence of the Grimoire come to the forefront of her perception, dowsing for the page. Her eyes shot open as her senses screamed, suggesting the page was far closer than she had realized. She whipped her head around, but there was no one creeping up behind her, no one who was going to press their hand against her mouth and split open her throat. The girl forced herself to calm, glancing at the guards and Ezekial to see if they had noticed her frenzied reaction to the page’s proximity.

The page was close. She could feel it. The sensation put her teeth on edge. Yet it was too close to sense its exact location; in fact, she could no longer divine which direction it was located in. She returned her attention to Ezekial’s discussion with the guards. They were splitting up, and the elf had volunteered to search the tents of the murdered women. Rin memorized the directions offered by Rory, and they set off with a farewell and plans to meet up an hour later with information. The girl effortlessly navigated the twisting pathways of the refugee camp, following the guard’s specific instructions to the letter. A few of the spectators followed them, clearly interested in why two strangers had been allowed to participate in the investigation. Rin turned and stared at them harshly when they reached the tent, but they stayed far enough away to claim they were not interfering, still watching the pair. "Let us do this..."With a heavy sigh she entered the tent, Ezekial close behind her.[/i]
Edited by Rin, Wed Jul 6, 2011 8:23 pm.
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Ezekial Smith
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Ezekial was listening to the guards explain how to get to the other tents when he noticed Rin turn around quickly. He spun around as well, hands curling into fists, but there was nobody there. He scanned the crowd, but he could see nothing out of the ordinary. Frowning, he turned back, and explained to the confused looking guards that he had thought that something was amiss, but it was probably a case of frayed nerves. He was not entirely sure about that explanation, however, and wanted to find whatever had been observing them. The two guards accepted this explanation for Ezekial's actions, and extrapolated them to Rin's rather more spastic response, and did not mention it, continuing on with giving directions, mentioning large landmarks to look for and the such. The two guards were going to go to the morgue to get a breakdown from Lakis, for all the good it would do, and they decided to meet back here in about an hour.

Ezekial followed Rin as she navigated through the city of tents, annoyed slightly by the few people following them. They were just far enough away so that they could deny any accusations of tampering with an investigation, but close enough that they could observe what was going on and gossip about it with their friends. At best they would only be a minor nuisance, at worst they could leak knowledge to a suspect. At last they arrived at the first of the three tents. Rin walked in, and Ezekial followed shortly after, pulling the flaps of the tent tightly closed after him, much to the disappointment of the people outside. Looking around the small tents, he could tell that the person who lived there didn't have much, either by circumstance or by choice. There was a bedroll on the floor, with a folded quilt as a pillow, and the only other thing in the room was a small chest, made of dark wood with brass trim and fittings, apparently locked. There were no personal items, at least not out in the open, and either the woman was robbed after she died, or besides the items on her person, all of her belongings could fill this one chest. He said as much to Rin. He wanted to leave the chest for later, and so looked at the bedroll, pushing it occasionally in places to see if there were any hidden pockets. Examining the bedroll in the manner, he found out nothing except that it was a very soft bedroll.

He examined the folded blanket and shook it out. It was a simple quilt, soft and worn, with the eight-pointed star design on the front, called the "Northern Star", in blue and green fabric. He could see nothing strange with it, and began to fold it back again. Looking down, he noticed a small piece of paper, either hidden in the makeshift pillow, or hidden underneath it. Gathering the quilt under one arm, he bent down to pick up the paper. Taking a look at it, he thought it strange. There were two names on it, Leonard McClue, the alchemist they had talked to earlier, with a description of his job and where he was, and another name that he did not recognize. He finished folding the quilt quickly, and turned to Rin, saying, "Rin, come look at this. I found this near her pillow-quilt." He held it to Rin to examine. Besides the information of McClue, there was similar information of a Mr. Williamson, lacking a first name.
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Rin
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Rin stared around the tent as they entered, taking in the cramped environment. There were barely any personal items in the tent, just a locked chest, and a bedroll with a quilt. Ezekial shared with the girl his assumption that Alia had either been robbed, or the entirety of her possession fits within the small, wooden chest. She sat down on the edge of said chest as Ezekial bent to inspect the bedroll, picking up the quilt to search it thoroughly. His inspection provided another clue: a piece of paper that conclusively linked her to the alchemist from earlier, as well as another name. She took the paper from the priest as he folded the quilt, setting it back on the bedroll. “Mr. Williamson. A… healer, it appears. He had a clinic before the city was destroyed…” She scanned the paper quickly, standing up from the chest. “Now he serves as a doctor for others in the refugee camp… He lives on the other side of the Slums…” She frowned, committing the comments on the page to memory. Without the knowledge of the guards, she doubted they would find the numbered tent on their own. “She had an appointment with this man before she met with Leonard… Perhaps he knows more about why she needed a petrification cure.”

She watched as the priest bent over the chest, pulling out a set of bent thieves tools they had ‘acquired’ in the Hills of Mist. His fingers deftly maneuvered the pins, snapping the tumblers into place. The lock snapped open, allowing the elf to remove it and open the lid carefully. Not for the first time she wondered how the elderly elf had acquired such an unusual set of skills, from extensive combat knowledge to lockpicking. The girl crouched down next to him, watching as they sorted through its few contents. Inside was a depressing window into the life of Alia. She had two sets of clothes, both simply dresses that were nearly worn to rags, as well as a tattered cloak that seemed to be kept together by inexpert stitches. A hairbrush fashioned out of wood and simple pins was on top of the rugged clothes, as well as a bar of soap and a small sack. Rin mutely took the pouch from the elf, opening the leather to reveal a scant handful of copper coins. A single sheet of paper was under the clothes, and although it appeared to be a letter the words had faded until they were illegible, the parchment crumpled and unfolded so many times it was as soft as fabric. Underneath the undecipherable letter was a small doll, obviously intended for a child. It was made out of straw and twine, with two eyes made out cracked buttons. Rin touched the doll lightly, frowning.

“Rory said she did not have a child… Why does she have a doll?” She absentmindedly returned the coins to the purse, biting her lower lip as the coins clinked together. She dropped the pouch back into the chest, standing up and crossing her arms over the sundress. “Perhaps Alia did not have a child, but that does not mean she was not close to one. One that visited often enough she kept a toy in her tent. We need to find Mister Williamson to learn more…”




The Red Lily Man stood in his tent once more, eyes closed in concentration. The voices berated him as he stood there, dagger sheathed on his hip. You are the one meant to clean the world, remember? You must focus, you fool! Or else that pretty little daemon will kill you and corrupt this entire city! You need this power to kill her. His brow twitched with annoyance at the voice’s tone, but he did not rise to its baiting, either vocally or internally. Instead he focused on his righteous power, the gifts he had been given to help purge this wicked camp of hidden daemons. He stood like that for what seemed like an eternity, sweat beading on his forehead as he focused. The voices eventually subsided, allowing him to focus without distraction on his task.

You did it! Quick, open your eyes! The Red lily man obeyed the voice this time, looking to the mirror in front of him. The daemon that had lived her before had been a vain creature, and had loved to preen in front of this mirror, reveling in the curves of the woman’s body it had defiled with its presence. Now the mirror showed nothing. He unsheathed the dagger, slashing it several times in front of him, but the reflective surface still betrayed no movement. The man’s face broke into a harsh smile. You are the deliverer of justice. Your secret mission must be successful. The invisibility spell faded, revealing him once more. The effect didn’t last forever, but it would be enough to destroy that waif of a daemon that it set his blood on fire to think about…
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Ezekial Smith
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The paper had the name of a Mr. Williamson, apparently a healer working on the opposite side of the Slums. The paper stated that the victim had an appointment just before going to McClue, presumably related to the anti-petrification medication. He looked over to the chest that Rin was near and bent down to it, removing the set of lockpicks that he had taken from the apothecary's door back in the Hills of Mist from the small pocket in his sleeves. He chose a few likely tools as well as a torsion wrench and inserted them into the lock, feeling for the tumblers and lifting them until he could feel them "set". He did so clumsily, taking near a minute to open a simple three-pin pin-tumbler lock, although he was sure that he looked like he did so expertly to a layman. Once the plug turned, he removed the picks and the wrench, opening the top. There was very little in the chest, two sets of rough linen dresses, both very worn, and a thin cloak, covered in irregular stitches in a style similar to continuous sutures. There was a simple hairbrush made of wood and thin pins, and both a bar of soap, partially dried, and a small leather satchel, with a few copperheads within it. There was an illegible piece of paper, so old that the ink was faded beyond ability to read, but Ezekial could recognize it as being similar to the Spencerian style of cursive Common. Beneath that was a strange doll, made of straw tied together with twine, with eyes made of cracked bone buttons.

Curious, Ezekial reached into the chest and picked up the doll ginergly, holding it up. He responded to Rin's induction by saying, "Perhaps not. Perhaps this is a memento from a dead child, perhaps a younger sibling or a deceased child. It is hard to say just from this." He stroked the face of the doll with one finger, reminded of his daughter, whom he had made a doll for. Her doll had been made from scrap fabric and filled with wool and cotton and given a big sewn smile and bone button eyes painted blue. He smiled lightly, his eyes beginning to well up with tears. He swallowed, blinked his eyes rapidly, and replaced the doll in the chest. As he did so, he noticed that there was a small ribbon stuck in the corner of the chest. Ezekial pulled on it, revealing a false bottom and a hidden area. Within the hidden area was only a few pencils, a journal with a wooden cover, and a small pin made of copper and showing a crescent moon at the bottom, facing downwards, with a pair of straight lines above it, roughly parallel to the axis of the moon. He picked up the pin and held it in his hands, rubbing it with his fingers. What did this thing mean?

He put it down and picked up the journal, flipping through it, but it was similarly faded to the letter, but in an old script of Honshun called hentaigana, meaning "variant kana", kana being the symbols of Honshun, each representing a syllable. Not only was it faded and in such an old syllabary, but the writer used every symbol for each syllable unit. He gritted his teeth and put it aside, having flipped through a number of pages and deciding to find someone who knew what it meant, as he felt that it would be very important at some point. He looked around the room, giving it a rundown, and seeing nothing else out of the ordinary, said, "Unless you would like to stay longer and look over the place closer, I think that we should go to the next tent on the list, belonging to Yurae."

((EDIT: Changed it so that Zeke takes the book with them as important evidence. The pin, too))
Edited by Ezekial Smith, Fri Jul 8, 2011 6:08 pm.
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Rin
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Rin listened to Ezekial's opinion on the doll, inwardly frustrated that she hadn't thought of the possibility herself. The girl felt like there was a knot of pressure right between her eyes, tangling her thoughts and making her skull ache with pain. She had never experienced a headache before, but knew that this was no natural pain. The closeness of the page hovered on the edge of her awareness, an insistent reminder that was impossible to quell. Something about the manner in which the page was being used made its power grate on her nerves, making it more difficult for her to focus on the task at hand. The headache was only the first indication of this strain; she knew that the longer it took to locate the page, the more its manipulation would cause her awareness to fray. She completely missed Ezekial's unshed tears, distracted by a sudden statement from the Grimoire.

You should depart, Rinrae. You aren't prepared to deal with this page yet.

Of course I am! You made me for this!

The pages might be mere tools, but their potential is limited only by the one who wields it. The dire bear was a brute and an animal, so it was barely able to tap my power. The page in the bookshop was restrained. The man from the roulette was limited by his own greed, and you saw how powerful he was still. This murderer's control is even better. He is too dangerous for you to confront currently.

I will not stop now. I will retrieve this page.

… You know I cannot stop you. But now can I protect you from the malignancy of the Red Lily Man. The more he uses the page, the more it will pain you to be near him. And with time, he will become more adept at utilizing it...


Rin was about to press the Grimoire for more information when Ezekial discovered the secret compartment in the small chest. There was a small journal inside, as well as writing utensils and an small, odd pin. The elf picked up the sigil, running his fingers over the metal object. The girl looked at it with interest, but she had never seen such a symbol, and if the Grimoire knew its meaning it chose to stay silent. She quickly scanned the pages as the priest flipped through the journal. Although many of the words were faded enough to be illegible, she could tell that the majority of the entries seemed to be detailing arcane rituals and potions. The girl was unaware the the elf could not read the journal as easily, so she made no attempt to share its contents with him. She nodded when he suggested they should leave. “Yes... Alia did not seem to own much. Perhaps Yurae's tent will provide more information...”

They replaced the meager contents of the trunk, locking it once more it before exiting the tent. Rin led them through the maze of tents once more, following the guard's instructions to a more prosperous area of the refugee town. Many of their entourage had gotten bored and wandered away while they were inside the first tent, but three or four continued to follow the pair throughout the town. The dwelling that Rin stopped in front of was much more opulent. The tent had a firm frame to keep it upright in a wide range of weather conditions. The fabric of the tent was soft and smooth, and had been enchanted to repel both moisture and grime. Due to these protections it looked much nicer than Alia's dwelling, almost as if it was newly built. Rin looked around the narrow street, observing that the majority of the tents in this area were constructed in this manner. “I think we are out of the Slums now, Ezekial...”
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Ezekial Smith
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Before leaving, they put the items they had removed back into the chest, with the exception of the journal and the small pin, both of which he thought would be important to the investigation, and at the very least could be fingerprinted. He followed Rin out of the small tent and proceeded to go west and north. As they moved, he noticed that only a few people were still following, all others having been too impatient to wait as they searched the tent. Ezekial had placed the pin within a pocket in his sleeve, and held the journal under his arm tightly. At corners, he took a small glance at the people following Rin and him. There were three people, two men and a woman, as well as a second woman that broke from the main group at irregular intervals and rejoined them later. The men both wore simple burlap trousers, with a tunic, dark with tablet weaved hems, tucked into the trousers and belted. The wore old boots made of leather, with scuff marks all over. The woman that accompanied the two men wore a longer tunic, down to her ankles, made of the same material and with the same style of hem. The other woman, however, wore a similar garb to the men, with her hair braided behind her. Ezekial was curious as to the motivation of these people, but made no move to confront them.

Soon they entered an area distinct from the Slums, the tents with infrastructures of lashed together wood and the tent tied to the wood on the inside with pieces of fabric sewn to the inside of the tent. These tends were larger here, and the tents appeared to be enchanted so that dirt would not stick to it and so that rain would slide off of it. The fabric of the tent itself was light tan in color, and had a very fine weave. Ezekial nodded absentmindedly at Rin's comment, and opened the tent flap, making sure to remind the four behind them to stay out of the tent. Stepping into the tent, he was surprised at the difference between it and the last one. This one had a small firepit in the corner surrounded with flat stones, and several large chests, all of her belongings. It was understandable, in a refugee camp one could not afford to bring along too much, it would only make life more difficult. The chests here were open, something that puzzled Ezekial. The bedroll had a true pillow, and a blanket that was folded to stay off of the groundsheet that prevented animals to enter the tent by digging under the "walls", although there was nothing to keep them from tearing through the groundsheet.

Moving to the first, chest, Ezekial pulled out his lockpicks, and presuming that this would be quite a bit tougher than the other chest, removed only a rake tool and the torsion wrench, applying gentle torque while he raked the tumblers. Once all of them had set, taking less than a minute, he turned the lock, removed the tools, and opened the top. On the top of several pairs of clothes was a folded sheet of parchment, written in neat legible writing was the name of Leonard McClue and his tent number, with a reminder to pick up an unspecified prescription, and the name of the Slum healer, Mr. Williamson. He mentioned this to Rin, holding out the paper for her to see, and continued to go through the first chest. There were a number of simple dresses, but all in good condition. Removing those and placing them gently on the groundsheet, he continued through the chest, noting a small leather purse with a mixture of silverings and copperheads, with a single goldman, a bar of soap, and a simple hairbrush. Removing these items, he saw a strange item: a small pin similar to the one he had found in Alia's tent.
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Rin
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Rin ran her fingers over the smooth fabric of the tent's doorway as they entered, smiling at the sensation of the smooth material. They closed the flap behind them, making sure that their followers did not attempt to enter the tent as well. As she was closing the tent Rin noticed that the only members of the crowd still observing them were dressed very similarly. That was very unusual given the level of organization of the refugee camp. That is to say, there was none; women dressed in soiled dresses that had once belonged to nobles lived in the same tent as girls dressed in rags. When Taras had been destroyed, many of its fleeing denizens had simply grabbed what few supplies they could carry. Furthermore, the four people watching the tent did not seem as if they were trying to glean information from the duo. Instead, they almost appeared to be keeping an eye on them. Rin found the prospect disquieting, although she did not let her unease show on her face. She flashed a smile at the quartet before she closed the flap tightly, tying the fabric together with a thick cord.

The girl turned to examine the inside of the tent. It was much more spacious than the first one had been and contained a number of personal items. There was a place for a fire in the very center, although it had been cleaned of charred wood and ash. The ground was covered in a plain sheet, and it appeared to have been swept recently, suggesting that they were not the first to enter this dwelling. “How long ago did Yurae die, Ezekial? Did Rory tell you?”She continued to peer around the tent as she waited for the priest's answer, noting the several chests tacked against one wall and the bedroll with its furnishings. This woman appeared to be completely unrelated to Alia until the elf bent to open up the first chest. Within were some typical garments and a folded hint of parchment. The elf showed her its contents, and a thin smile crossed her lips. They had their connection: this woman had also been a patient of Mr. Williamson. Rin slipped the page into her satchel as Ezekial dug through the clothes, searching for something more substantial in the woman's belongings. Before long, he had found it: another unusual pin, its symbol identical to the one they had found in Alia's tent.

The rest of the tent provided no clues, so the pair set about restoring it to its original appearance. Rin stayed silent as they worked, possibilities whirring through her mind. There was obviously something more important underneath the surface of this investigation. Alia and Yurae seemed like complete strangers, yet there was a tangled web that included both of them, and perhaps the link had been the reason for their murders. Still pondering on what the mess of clues could mean, she untied the tent flaps and exited into the bright street. The girl blinked at the sudden illumination, shading her eyes with one hand. The people that had been following them still stood in a small cluster, mutely observing the pair as they left the tent. Rin caught a glimmer of sunlight on metal on one man's chest. Pursing her lips, she walked closer to the man, gasping as she drew closer. On his chest was the same pin that Ezekial had found in both of the tents. She marched up to the group, one hand on her hip. The fingers of her other hand slithered into her satchel, lightly touching the pommel of her longsword to reassure her of its presence. “What is that symbol on your chest, sir?” Her voice was bright and cheerful, but there was a hard glint in her blue eyes. “I believe I have seen it before...”
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Ezekial Smith
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“How long ago did Yurae die, Ezekial? Did Rory tell you?” Ezekial replied that she had died a week before today while he was searching. Once he had showed the paper to Rin, he noted a small smile blossom on her face, likely from the revelation of a connection between the two victims. They searched the rest of the room and found nothing, the other chest held only mundane items. Ezekial locked up the chests and followed Rin outside, wincing slightly at the bright sun after leaving the far darker tent. The two women had the same pin, had been patients of Mr. Williamson, and had both requested prescriptions to be filled by Leonard McClue. He looked up at Rin's voice, and noticed the pin on the chests of three of the people, the pin on the wrist of the second man. Ezekial put a hand to his his sword, and asked,

"Yes, why do you have those pins? They're very similar to the two we found in the possessions of two of the three victims, and I think that we will find it in the possessions of the third." One man, the one with the pin on his chest, began to deny an association, starting to back away as if he would begin to run away, and the other man stopped him by holding out an arm. From the demeanor of the rest of the four, he could tell that this man was the leader of the group. This man spoke up in a calm and collected manner, his face expressionless.

"That'll be all. They would have found the connection eventually anyway. And you are correct, the third victim, Rhea, also has one of these badges. Before we discuss further, perhaps we could go into the tent where it is more private." Nodding, Ezekial opened the flap of the tent, and the four people entered, followed closely by Ezekial and Rin. "Now, we are, and Rhea, Alia, and Yurae were, members of a group of people previously centered in Taras. As you are outsiders, know that I cannot reveal to you the entirety of what our organization is and does, but know that it is highly irregular, and as such, we have accumulated a number of enemies, many of whom are hidden in this camp. We have followed the man who murdered our members so viciously, and have ascertained that he is not someone we know, although he still may be a person with a grudge against our business. Salla, would you like to continue?" The woman wearing a long dress-like tunic nodded, and summoned a small orb that was augmented with a single eye and a pair of wings similar to those of an owl. She began speaking.

"This is Samuel, he's a reconnaissance familiar, custom created by another member to fly silently and be able to transmit the information to me directly. I was unable to get visuals for the murder of Rhea, and only partial images of the murderer after the murder of Yurea, but I got full video of the murderer during Alia's death. I do not recognize the man, but I would know him if I saw him." She nodded towards the leader, and he said,

"Now, shall we be going? I'm sure that you wish to search the tent of Rhea, and it's getting closer to the rendezvous you planned with the two guards, Callohan and Rory. Yes, I heard that as well. Also, I presume that we will all be considered witnesses in this investigation, yes?"
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Rin
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Rin tensed as the man she had accosted backed away from the girl, his eyes darting from side to side. Ezekial joined her, adding his questions to her own. She was about to draw the sword when one of his companions held out a restraining hand, shaking his head slightly. The girl visibly relaxed as he began to explain himself, making no obvious attempts to escape from their inquiry. Instead they moved into the tent, all four of the strangers joining them. The tent was much more crowded with this man people, so Rin sat cross-legged on the soft bedroll to make room. Her eyes flickered between the four, observing the similarities in their clothing, as well as the pins firmly attached to their attire. The man who appeared to be in charge had his pin on a silver chain around his wrist. The others all had the pins attached to their chest. The girl listened attentively as their leader revealed the importance of the odd little pins: they indicated membership in a secret organization that sounded as if it was involved a wide range of activities... and some of them were undoubtedly illicit.

The girl leaned forward when the familiar was revealed, her bright eyes burning with curiosity. The orb was easily small enough to fit in the woman's hand, with minuscule feathery wings slowly flapping on its surface. She craned her neck, staring directly into the thing's eye and giggled. “What an amazing tool! I wish I had a familiar like that too...” Her grin faded slightly as she realized the importance of the woman's words. “Wait a minute! You have the murder recorded?” She shot to her feet, the friendliness gone from her face, replaced with a fierce determination. “Can you show me? I need to know who is using... who is murdering these women.” She mentally cringed at the slip-up, knowing that these strangers could not be trusted with the truth of the Red Lily Man's abilities. Although she had originally been unaware of the fact, the pages of the Grand Grimoire were incredibly desirable to normal mortals. Its powers were like a drug, addictive and maddening. Scholars sought to study them; megalomaniacs strove to use them to control the world. Although these people were willing to help them stop the murders, they would undoubtedly have uses for such a powerful object in their “organization.” She could not take that risk. The pages belonged to her and the Grimoire. No one else could be allowed to use them.

“Also, if this man is truly targeting your members, you need to gather everyone in a central location.” The girl placed a fist on each hip, nodding assertively. “He cannot strike against any of you without being caught. Scattering yourselves throughout the camp will make you easier to hunt.” Her blood burned with excitement. We can catch him! We can stop him from using the page for evil! Ezekial and I can do this... The Grimoire did not reply to her confidence, remaining ominously silent.
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Ezekial Smith
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Salla was surprised at the girl's vigor, drawing back slightly, and replying, "No, I do not, but I have the memory. Perhaps you can request another of our members, a mind-bender, to aid you. Is that alright, Schwartz?" She turned to the leader, Schwartz, and he nodded silently. Hearing the girl's next comment, the leader smiled.

"Yes, I daresay that that would be the best point of action. The majority of our people are in a sort of "compound" to the south, near the Slums, made of a large number of connected tents. Besides the four of us, we have two other teams of four out on operations, but they will be returning within the hour. 'Divide and conquer', after all, will never happen to our organization, not by a single person. We will have to, unfortunately, decline to offer you to stay for dinner, however, we will have you with a group, perhaps one similar to this, with the exception of myself. Another lieutenant will accompany you in my place. In the meanwhile, however, we should continue to the next tent. Follow me, if you would." Now a group of six people, they moved through the streets, leaving the area they were in and returning to a far side of the Slums. They finally found the tent they were looking for, with a number of strings locking the flaps together. Walking up, Schwartz undid them quickly, and opened the door widely, allowing the old priest and the girl to search within it while the other four stood guard outside.

This room was stranger, the style of Yurea's tent, with a bedroll, a large chest along the wall, and a desk near the chest, using a wooden crate as a chair. Bending down to pick the lock of the chest, the man other than Schwartz whistled to catch his attention and tossed a key to him. Ezekial caught the key, nodding at him, and inserted it into the plug and unlocked the chest. He removed the key and lifted the top of the chest, pushing the clothes out of the way and removing the small pin he expected to find. Another thing he saw that struck him as strange was a small, circular crystal within the chest. He picked it up, and he suddenly his mind was filled with a cacophony of voices, old, young, male, female, each in crescendo until he felt that his head would burst. Then, the voices, stopped, replaced by a single voice. Who are you? You are not the master. No, I am not. You master is known as Rhea, yes? I'm sorry to say that she has been killed. At his words a cry rose out among the voices and he grimaced, but they were replaced with the singular voice soon. I apologize for that. Continue. Of course. I am working with several of her colleagues to avenge her death, and the death of two more of her colleagues. Can I rely on your aid in this, whatever aid you can render? Of course. Our forces are yours to command. Bring our vengeance upon the enemy. The crystal went silent now, and Ezekial relayed the conversation to the others. Schwartz chuckled, mentioning that it was rare for those spirits to behave like that to a stranger, and that they must have been desperate for some living company to cling onto Ezekial in that manner. Ezekial looked to Rin, and asked if there was anything on the desk.
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