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5/2 morning

Darcell was in good spirits. Erich seemed to be in a good mood, which meant things were going well in general. She didn’t really understand what they were doing in Duskwood beyond the basics, it seemed to mostly consist of sitting around in a creepy house a lot to her, with occasional breaks for almost getting murdered by spiders, and the task he was pursuing seemed mostly done. The rest was just a formality, really. Erich was insistent though, so it must be important.

She did some shopping around dawn, buying a few loaves of slightly stale bread from one merchant, some onions from another, and a small but fresh fish from a third. Anything she could get for a copper and be sure to eat in time, just like mom told her. The fact they’d never go bad unless they were left out made it much easier; they’d have stocked pantries for weeks for one silver. Unless she ran out of space. Looking at the inventory made her head hurt; it already looked full with all the bodies and wine bottles, but small things could be tucked into small spaces.

She’d asked about Keryn at the tavern. Apparently the woman tended to follow a pattern. She’d leave for three days, come back, rent a room and request that he order some swiftthistle from his suppliers, and only leave her room for meals for a whole day before doing a bit of shopping and leaving again. She’d been doing it for weeks, and was about to leave. Darcell was excited, and took the necklace out of the inventory. She could only access the inventory if Erich would be ok with it, so clearly there was no need to bother him.

While she waited in the inn for Keryn to come down to lunch, the rogue was surprised at the arrival of another woman at her table. A pretty blue eyed girl, about the same age as her, with chin length black hair and a shining smile. “Hello there. I think I might know you. Darcell, right? My brother Garrick mentioned you.”

The redhead froze. She hadn’t been prepared for this. She didn’t know how Erich wanted her to handle it. “Uh. Yeah. Hi. What’s your name? He might have mentioned you?” Yeah, yeah. Good start. Nice and smooth.

“Hi, I’m Hope. Is Otto around? I’d like to talk to him, maybe?” Darcell didn’t know any Hopes.

“What about?”

“Oh, nothing major. The family doesn’t know him very well, so when he ran off with Garrick’s sister we got worried.”

Oh no. It was possible this was no big deal, but Darcell remembered being in the Defias well enough to know that pretending to be one of them without being initiated was taken very seriously. They’d be mad. She took a drink from her small glass of wine to try to hide her expression. It tasted a bit off. This cup was stronger than her last one.

“Well he’s new to the family. It’s not a surprise you don’t know him.”

“Really? Because I know a lot of people. Where’s he from again?” She leaned in, her smile taking on a predatory cast as she watched Darcell take another drink.

“Westfall.” That got a look of surprise. Why would it? He called himself Otto of Westfall.

“Where’d he learn magic?”

“He has a magic amulet. Like this one. It does all sorts of stuff.” She pointed at her own necklace.

“So he’s just someone with a magical item?”

That got Darcell’s hackles up. “A very special someone with a very special item, but yeah.”

Hope leaned in conspiratorially, “Has he gone through initiation? Is he really in the Brotherhood? Be sure to finish your drink, by the way.”

“Obviously. What kind of person would pretend to be in the Defias without being a true believer?” She drank, it seemed like a reasonable idea.

“Where is he right now?”

“He’s on a special secret mission in Duskwood, but I don’t really get what he's trying to do.” She left out his exact location; she didn’t know EXACTLY where he was and Hope didn’t need to know either.

“So why are you here, then? Didn’t you leave to go with him?”

“I’m here to meet someone and give them a delivery. Oh. There she is. Keryn!”

“Well it’s been nice speaking with you, Darcell. I think I might go and see if I can have a chat with Otto. My father would love to meet him.” Hope stood up and left quickly. More like fled, really; she didn’t seem to want Keryn to see her. Maybe Hope had a wanted poster?

“Hello Keryn! I am supposed to give you this and then you will start training me.”

••••••••••

Dammit. She’d drunk enough truth serum to get her to sing like a bird and she didn’t have all that much to share, so either she had made the poison wrong, unlikely, or that girl was a true believer who only knew broad strokes. Poor sap. No way a member of the brotherhood would be setting her up to meet a known SI:7 operative for legitimate reasons. She was probably about to go into custody.

At least Vanessa had gotten away. She was sure they had a few composite pictures of her, and she did not want an actual agent to get a good look at her face. She probably wouldn’t have won that if it had turned into a fight, and escaping is always touch and go.

Duskwood, huh? Well luckily she needed to go there sometimes anyway, so she could just use her normal route. They’d taken over an old farmstead to grow exotic magical plants a while back in the strange soil; it’s where she got a lot of her supplies for more advanced potions and toxins. Once she got there, she could send out a few agents and see if Mr Bismark had been making any waves.

••••••••••

Lillibeth watched from the shadows as the tall man disciplined the dragon. Watching was the only joy she had anymore. She wasn’t stupid; she could see that the necklace he offered her would come with subjugation. She’d seen what he did to the horrid old man in the shack. Once that would have been enough for her to reject the gift he offered.

But she could hardly see the shape of things anymore, operating almost entirely off of her memories of the town she lived her whole life in. She could catch perhaps one word in three unless she focused. She could touch things for perhaps a second at a time, and doing so exhausted her. She could touch peoples minds to speak to them, but it appeared that these gemstones warded away her ability to make those connections, tenuous as they were.

The gemstones, so radiant, crisp, clear. They had been what had drawn her to the man and his servants. They were so visible. The desire to have one for herself was inducement enough for her to risk quite a lot.

If he spoke any truth at all, he sought to end the evils in this land. His slaves seemed happy. And most importantly, he promised to connect her back to the world. She would not make that bargain with a beast like Morbent Fel, like so many of her compatriots had. It was subjugation and evil and betrayal all in one. This man? Slavery to a man who at least pretended virtue and wished for the good regard of his companions was acceptable to her.

The woman she had been in life would have recoiled at the thought. The woman she had been in life knew nothing of loneliness.