Solo Connecting Some Dots

[Zandelia]

Winter 75th, 513 AV – The Vestibule


Zandelia was attempting to unobtrusive, the last few days had been filled with new sensations and learning experiences. She tried not to shudder at some of the things that she had gone through – it was best not to dwell on them. Some she would never manage to forget she was sure, they would rear their demonic heads upon the cusp of sleep or wake her with cold sweats until the day she died. Her life had not been a gentle one but the feeling of total helplessness on that day spent with Annalisa…well it was safe to assume that it was one such memory. As such she had retreated into a world within which she found comfort – that of the investigative and secretive. So far, since she had discovered the note of Garret’s in her possession she had had little luck tracking him down – she planned to change that this day.

She had been studying the people of Sahova learning of their habits and their idiosyncracies. Mages were a peculiar sort indeed but she was beginning to understand them a little better. More personal experience would be required of course but she was picking up a working knowledge base upon which to build. As she leant against a wall, gaze analytical and ears pricked, she found some solace in the fact that such people were not her quarry – for now. She had not forgotten her agreement with Thomas but investigations in that morass of intrigue were slow and cumbersome at best. No, she was after the smaller people now, the ones who moved without being noticed in the city of the dead.

And how many there are of them too, if one just takes the time to search she mused to herself as she watched and waited.

The mages were too preoccupied with their great works to worry about the living population of the isle, the Pulsers. As such they had decided to take care of themselves. Visitors banded together, hunters brought their game for full bellies and a myriad of other tasks were carried out by this underclass of the living. The term Pulser was an apt one, she thought, as they were very much the lifeblood of those who required it. At present she was ignoring the multitude and was instead focused upon a small group of people trying to appear non-descript in the corner about twenty paces away from her. She had secluded herself behind a pillar and her fancy was piqued.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say they were new off the boat,” she muttered to herself as the wheels of her mind turned, “or some of them at least. The ones that don’t look as hungry and desperate” she qualified to herself as she observed – just observed for now.

She was not certain of course but there were a few clues to give her an edge of acceptance to the theory. Clothing that looked more rumpled but cleaner – it suggested high winds perhaps and less time spent in the dusty stone quarters that were the only viable living space for the non-magical. The cheeks were another thing, some were puffed and red and others sallow and pale so either some were ill of some were not famished. Either way it was an interesting characteristic and caught her attention. The most malleable fact to her theory of some being newly arrived , though, was the fact that two had come in the entrance to the Citadel and the other two had come from the direction of the Quarters. They had waited and only recently had the pair from the outside world arrived.

Well…that and the fact that the two pale, dusty ones have spent every day for the last ten days in the Vestibule by the entrance. Sometimes they left, perhaps to go to the docks. They enver seemed to return with food so hunting seems…unlikely] she thought the occurrences through carefully.

Shipping was fairly regular in Sahova it seemed, always around the same handful of days from what she had managed to pry from some of the more friendly of the Pulser’s present in her idle conversations. The times could be an indicator but not enough to be fully sure. At any rate she was curious and so, as they began to leave for the Quarter – the cleaner one’s gesticulating angrily – she waited for a score of heartbeats before she took up her meandering pursuit. She gave them a good twenty paces start as she loitered at the corner of a corridor.

This will either prove interesting or a waste of time – so nothing lost I’d say she told herself.

[Zandelia]

She allowed the footsteps to retreat from her audible range at first, the concept of stealth not so familiar to her that she could feel confident getting overly close. No, keeping her distance was best she knew and it was not overly difficult to catch them up. She could just run to every corner but that would raise too much suspicion and being noticed was not what she desired – better to not be remembered for now. Still, as the echoes of even their hushed words reverberated to her ears for the few seconds she managed to get into her clutches she understood that whatever she learnt would be of interest.

“You don’t understand, we aren’t here to thank him”

“Oh? Then why come all this way, why not wait?”

“Because in the past waiting has proved to be stupid. Understand?!”

Three small, seemingly insignificant lines of conversation that could have pertained to anything and everything. Yet, for Zandelia, they were an anomaly to be pursued and understanding to be garnered. As she followed in their wake, her walk casual but slightly faster than a relaxed amble, she wondered if there even were a puzzle – admittedly she was going on almost nothing, intuition at best. She was good at noticing patterns, or the lack of patterns. Their behaviours can caught her eye, as had the two’s presence over the last days, but it was still precious little. It was simple enough to understand what they were talking about of course, they were here to greet someone – perhaps unkindly – and they knew the person already.

But that doesn’t mean there are any hidden meanings. I need more. More pieces of the puzzle…if it is a puzzle she told herself as she leant against the corner of a branch in the corridor. She had caught a glimpse of a cloak flick around it and was keen to catch up and overhear a little more and so had sped up once she had ascertained no one was now watching her.

“How goes things in-“

“Hsst! Not here!”

“Sorry…I-I-I don’t know what…”

“They are…difficult”

“Under-“

Zandelia peered around the corner with her good eye and saw the retreating backs turn in unison and round another corner, this time it was a left and her suspicions were confirmed – the Quarters were the destination. The last exchange had given her little more to muse upon, she reflected as she made her way to the next corner and found nothing there. She panicked then but as she watched a small head popped around the corner quickly and as if searching for pursuit – she slammed herself backwards and out of sight as quickly as she dared to. She took a moment to contemplate as she let them get used to the idea that they were, in point of fact, alone.

So they do know each other, or at leeast know of each other enough to discuss business…whatever this business may be. Trading partners perhaps? Things are not proceeding well by their talk and so it’s more likely that they come from Sunberth than Zeltiva of Nyka. Sunberth always has troubles after all she turned it over in her mind for a moment longer before shaking her head and peeking around the corner again – she saw nothing this time even after waiting for a few breaths.

She kept following in their wake and as time passed slowly, their voices now silent and guarded, she entered the area known as the Quarters and familiarity now seeped into her. She considered where she was and found it was not near her own lodgings – not too near at any rate. It was difficult to get away from people in the huddled mass of miniature rooms but she could slip away and not be found if required she fancied. It was a shorter walk now, slower and filled with a lot more peering around the corners and hoping to Akajia herself that she was being smiled upon by the shadows. She did not think that she had been seen but one could never be entirely sure and traps were so easy to spring.

“Especially in corridors” she whispered to herself. She regretted it as the party heard the hissed echo and paused, frozen and looking at one another before continuing and slipping into one of the rooms on the right – the further door down she noted to herself.

She was about to follow and approach the door until she asked herself and she slipped back around the corner. She heard the door slam open and smiled. She left it a while before she peered around again, the door was closed once more .

[Zandelia]

It was a dangerous game she was playing now, one in which she could easily become overwhelmed. The Quarters were not the most patrolled portion of Sahova, if indeed any place could be considered well patrolled. She was alone with four others, two of them travellers and so at least presumably able enough in defending themselves. The corridors were narrow and she could perhaps trap them in the doorway momentarily but, all things considered, if she was caught she could expect a mere punch to the face as the best of possible outcomes. This consideration flickered within her mind, giving her pause, before she slipped to the right side of the corridor and let her back brush the stone. Her curiosity was far too strong now not to keep up pursuit – she knew it as well as she knew the sun rose at morning.

Her footsteps were slow, measured and knees were bent in the attempt to illicit no sound – sound echoed as she had just almost been caught out by and she wished to learn something more before that happened at least. It was a slow process as she kept far enough from the wall that her clothing did not brush and scrape but close enough to be invisible to the more casual opening of the door. It took her far much longer than she liked but she eventually was able to crouch down next to the frame of the fourth door on the right. The voices were muffled and she frowned as she strained her ears to make out what was being said. Eventually true words were made out rather than muffle rumbling.

Damn! Missed their introductions! she cursed to herself, she had lost their names and as such lost power over her prey. Names were important links in knowledge after all.

“I don’t know”

“What do you mean you don’t kn-“

“He left! He came, talked and then just disappeared!”

“How?”

“We don’t know, I told you. It just seemed as usual. He came with a missive, well…a few missives…and then issued the order”

“He…issued the order? THE order?”

“YES!”

“And you have no idea where he went?”

“We assumed he had left back to your city. It’s close after all and his trips are not so irregular as to cause suspicion”

“Did he seem…edgy?”

“Well…his eyes darted I suppose. Kept looking around as if her were watched”

“Yeah, he was a bit…paranoid”

“But then he’s a Nuit in Sahova so it just seemed…”

“Normal?”

Zandelia frowned as she listened, deeper and in thought now. The words continued to be exchanged by various voices but they were mostly repeating what had already been stated in differing ways. It was almost an interrogation over a conversation. Someone was missing, had arrived and then departed. She knew nothing more and that in itself was not overly telling of purpose of persona. Paranoia was interesting but hardly an anomalous trait in Sahova – it was practically common. It was in the air you breathed here. Still, the mention of missives caught her attention and she found herself wondering how to get her hands on them as the conversation turned back and forth. She puzzled over it until a name was finally dropped and caused her to flick her head up in startlement.

“Markus wants him dead”

“Dead? But he’s al-“

“You know what I mean! Don’t play smart with me or he won’t be the only one!”

“Why?”

“He’s too much trouble that’s why! He tried to play the game and was stupid. That’s all you need to know””

“Okay, but finding someone who can switch bodies will be difficult here”

“FIND. A. WAY!”

She sensed that the meeting, if it could be called that, was coming to a close and so she hasted to the other end of the corridor so that she would not be seen if the group retraced their footsteps. After rounding the corner and then sprinting for another corner she finally breathed…and it was with anger. She had got what she wanted…a possible lead on Garret if they had been talking about what she hoped in her heart they had been. Yet she could only feel bitterness at the possible success. It was more than she could have hoped for a few days ago and yet…

I feel nothing. It’s almost as if it was a failure. Why? she asked herself as she allowed Tanroa to keep the river of time moving in its inexorable passage.

[Zandelia]

There were too many possible holes in her logic she told herself as her back found comfort for once in the cold, hard stone it now leant against. She was jumping at shadows she knew and whilst usually this was a decent method for survival it was currently more of a handicap than an ally. The conversation had been suggested, anything but boring also but far from conclusive to her current line of analysis. She was making connections where none might exist and she could not stop herself from doing so – she was too close to the scenario, too hateful. It was a poison that coursed through her veins and it would get her killed one day she was sure. Just another bloated corpse in a river or crumpled at the foot of a ramshackle wall. It was all her imagination…well…not all of it.

But enough of it. I need proof! Certainty! I can’t make assumptions, they get you killed. Or worse. I need…those missives she tried to reign her wild musings back to a task, any task that was both practical and a positive distraction.

She could not take them without raising suspicion however, this much she knew for a certainty. What they held within was secretive to be sure, especially from the tone of the conversation. Important perhaps, if her suspicions were proven to be correct. She was nowhere near accepting that they were after all – visitors seemed to be more common in Sahova than she had presumed. Few stayed overly long she had heard but it was not impossible that these men were heading elsewhere and had nothing to do with her father. Markus was a common enough name now that she thought about it, it could have been anyone. Her nerves settled as she tried to design a scheme to solve the riddle once and for all.

I’ll need a ruse I think, something that will last long enough that I can hide or leave without hindrance – the whole damned island if necessary. So…forging? No…they’ll notice the difference in handwriting. But…copying…that has merits. Leave the originals and take away my own? she asked herself, wondering how quickly it could be done – she would not have long she was sure.

She sighed and took out her blade, it would have to be good enough. Revy’s dagger sliced a nice slit into her left forefinger and she smeared it on the stone corner, low enough that it would not be spotted at a glance she hoped. She wiped the blood from the dagger upon her robes and slipped it back into its sheath. It would serve as a marker of sorts, enough to know she had returned to the right place.

“And now for my tools” she told herself firmly, willing herself towards courage.

She set off with speed towards her own room. It took a while and she had to backtrack thrice before she managed to get there. She tried to keep a mental map of her way back so as to make her return to their room quicker than her leaving. Once within her own sanctum she grabbed her journal – it still held a number of unused pages. A quill and her pot if ink followed and she slipped back out, closing the door, and began her return journey. It was longer than she had hoped, backtracking again as her mental map failed her on a singular occasion. That was a small mercy at least. She kept her gaze at the bottom of the corners and again found her smear of blood. She crouched and took a moment to lick her fingers and rub it away – leaving no trace was the first rule of caution.

And now…the gambit she thought.

[Zandelia]

She took a series of deep breaths to compose herself and prayed to the gods, whichever ones might be bored enough to listen, that the four of them had concluded their meeting and left the room. There was a way to see whether they were in the room she was sure but she dared not use her Auristics. She had used it too often for her liking of late and did not want to push herself too far – especially when crippling herself with it in the present situation would prove all too dangerous. She enjoyed the power but as she had been told by several and experienced herself it was a foolish perspective to see it as hers to fully control. No, she would do this the old fashioned way. She walked down the corridor, this time strolling normally and not slinking like a cutpurse.

If I am spotted I can make an excuse…I’m bringing a book for my master perhaps. Yes. I like that. And if they probe too far, well flight is always good she told herself, knowing all too clearly that running would prove her downfall. She would hold it as a last resort.

As she approached the door she could hear nothing to tell her that anyone was within. Hope kindled and she foolishly sped up her pace in her need to know. It was stupid and careless of her. Luck turned and gave her its full wrath as the door opened and she bumped into one of the men as he stepped outwards. She rocked backwards and hit the far wall as she became unbalanced. She dared not freeze and instead dropped the journal as if she had fumbled with it. It was a poor mask but perhaps enough.

“Watch where you are going woman!” he snapped at her. She saw that he was one of the ones whom had been in Sahova before the others had arrived. His face was red and his face a mask of consternation.

“Sorry. Oh gods, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“Yes, though no thanks to you. What are you doing here?” he asked her, suspicion lacing his voice treacherously.

“Just getting my thing sir, thought I should study whilst I can. Getting this book for-“ she was waved into silence as the man gave her one more imperious look and whisked away muttering darkly to himself.

She knelt down and made a long show of picking up the journal, gathering what strips of torn parchment and papers had fallen out. She watched him leave with trepidation, taking as long as she dared to cover her true intentions. Her things gathered up she stood up fully and walked to the end of the corridor to keep up the charade in case the man returned to see her opening the door – that would not be a good end to a task set for herself. She reached the end and saw nothing. She smiled and backtracked quickly. The opening of the door had given her enough of a glance to see that he had been alone.

A useful mistake but still a mistake. Acting like a child at my age. Honestly! she mocked herself acidly. She would not make that mistake again in a hurry.

She pushed the door open and closed it as quickly as she dared, still stopping it from slamming lest it lead to unwarranted investigation. The room was as small as all the others and it looked as if two men lived in it. Lived was perhaps the wrong word as there were little in the way of possessions but it was the only description that was adequate. If the two packs had been taken there would be no trace that any had been there at all. She set about her work rapidly, carefully rifling through the two packs in short order and trying not to disturb them overly much. She had taken a moment to study their locations and appearance – she fancied that she could leave them as she had found them. Or at least enough that nothing untoward would be noticed. The missives were easy to be found, stuffed haphazardly in the second pack and down the side of it – she noted that location carefully as she unfolded them one after the other before her.

One appears to be an order of some kind, the others just…reports perhaps? she thought as she uncorked her ink, rifled to a new page in her journal and dipped her quill towards readiness.

She worked quickly, blotting her journal a few times and her writing rough and slanted with her haste. It wasn’t perfect but it was enough so that she could read the words and that was all that she needed. She could make better copies in the privacy of her own quarters. It still took longer than she liked and she had no time to really think upon what the words were or meant – that too would be for later. She finished her work and blew the ink dry. She had managed to cram all three into one page and that, at least, was an occurrence to the positive. Folding the letter back up she froze…she had not taken note of which order they had been placed in the bag in!

Idiot! she cursed privately as she put them into any order and rammed them back into the pack – there was nothing else for it.

As she opened the door a crack, peering out and seeing nothing, she hoped that that oversight would not be noticed. Her foray this day had not been her best by a long way. It had been crude, not very thought through and accident prone.

She would have to do better than that in the future.

[Thomas Cosa]

Zandelia

Skills Learned	Experience	Lore Earned
Stealth	+3	A possible lead
Investigation	+2
Intelligence	+1
Observation	+1

Grade Notes :

Great thread! I can't wait to see where Zan goes with this! Keep it up! Also, if you could change your grading ticket to graded that would be wonderful!

Inquiries can be directed to one Thomas Cosa via PM and will be sorted out in short order.