OoC: Open to anyone who wants to join in.

IC:
It was a golden afternoon, the sun casting resplendent rays upon the Town Square and the couple joining hands under a painted wooden arch.

Seth lingered on the edges of the throng, eyes darting uncertainly from side to side. He was dressed in a suit that was too large for him and he'd tried to slick his hair back, but only ended up with a sticky mess.

His hair had gone back to its usual unruly green spikes only a few minutes into the ceremony. His resolve had already shattered hours before.

The priest continued to drone on and on, and Seth had to kick himself awake and remind himself that he wanted to be here for his mother and her new husband, the father of child number five, that he wasn't going to let his begging Rhyss for an entire week go to waste. Begging and a whole lot more besides.

He tugged at his white scarf uncomfortably. It was out of place with the suit, but Rhyss said he couldn't take it off. But at least it hid the bruises.

He watched his mother squeeze the hands of her soon-to-be-husband and stifle a giggle. He grimaced, but forced himself to remember that the whole ordeal was a good thing, that she needed to settle down after having 6 illegitimate children, that the husband was rich and his siblings would finally be able to go to bed without being hungry... The crowd gathered were mostly respectable folk, probably the groom’s relatives, but among the silk and taffeta he picked out the grubby lady who trained a horde of rats, the rangy forger he’d had a crush on when he was 8, the old woman with the cape made of pigeon feathers…

A shadow descended upon him, and he immediately flinched. For a moment he thought it was Rhyss, and panicked- what had he done wrong? Sure, the whole thing was one of the dullest ceremonies he'd ever had to sit through, but...

"I haven't seen her smile like that in years."

"...do you, Elisabeth of Navarr, take Neil Bennett as your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest intoned, as if he were just as bored of the ceremony as Seth was.

"Ah. There's my cue," the stranger said, and before Seth could take a closer look, he disappeared.

"I do," the bride in question replied, her voice husky from a lifetime of smoking, yet high with unconcealed girlish excitement. She squeezed Neil's hands again and beamed brightly, and Seth forgot about the stranger entirely. He regretted coming to this. What was the point? He hadn't even been invited by his own mother, he wasn't a part of this family anymore...

"And do you, Neil Bennett, take Elisabeth Navarr as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I-"

There was a loud crack, and a suffocating cloud of smoke billowed through the air. The crowd gathered screamed and rose from their seats, and his mother's shriek pierced through the din.

Seth didn't panic until he realized that he hadn't foreseen this moment, that he hadn't had so much as a dream or a fleeting vision of the entire thing crashing down. He tried to See, tried to force the future to reveal what was going to happen next and divulge the identity of the person who had caused this, but his Sight was as foggy as the rest of the Town Square.

Finally, a feeling of dread gripped him, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to his abilities or plain intuition. He dashed towards the general direction of the dais, tripped over the priest, and fell into his mother’s arms just as the smoke cleared.

“Mom-!”

Elisabeth shrieked and cast her son aside as if he were a stranger, throwing herself upon another body that lay supine on the floor.

“Neil!” she wailed. “Neil, no! Neil!”

Seth was still sprawled out on the dirty cobblestones when he realized that Neil was dead, blood spilling from a cleanly cut line directly across the front of his throat.

“Mom…” he managed to croak out, reaching for her, but a strong pair of arms dragged him up and away.

“Seth, what the hell are you doing here?” his eldest brother Arunite growled.

With a pang, the green-haired thief remembered how he’d looked up to the handsome Arunite. Arunite was tall, muscled, and filled out his suit well. He probably never had trouble slicking back his hair. Elisabeth must have hugged him that morning, told him she loved him, that he was her favorite son…

“She’s my mother too!” Seth hissed back.

“Why did you kill Neil!?”

“What?! No! How could I- why the hell would I-“

Arunite pointed at their crying mother with a shaking finger. “You just had to ruin the one day that was going to put everything right, didn’t you? I’ve seen you around Castle Town, with those assassins and rogues and criminals. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, Seth. Who paid you?”

The guards hired by the now deceased groom had ushered the guests away to safety. Elisabeth’s children, however, had refused to leave.

“Let him go, Arunite,” Karina, the youngest sister said boldly. Behind her was Zareth, the youngest of all the children, and he looked on with wide, almost uncomprehending eyes, as if he hadn’t yet realized that his father had just been killed.

“Karina. Stay out of this,” Arunite growled through gritted teeth, and his grip on Seth tightened painfully. “Get him out of here,” he added, nodding at Zareth.

“It’s not Seth’s fault!” Karina said. “I’ve been watching him the whole time, there was no way that he-“

“-you knew I was here?” Seth asked, surprised.

“Yes,” the pretty girl added, her voice quivering. “Arunite. Please. He had nothing to do with this.”

Arunite looked from his now crying sister, to his mother clutching Neil’s corpse, to the defiant brother he held captive. With a snarl, he threw Seth to the ground. “Fine. Just use your… powers, or whatever, and tell me who did it!”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Arunite demanded, advancing upon him again, but Karina stepped between them.

“I tried, I swear! I can’t See a thing, I don’t know why, I would if I could, I swear, I…” Seth babbled. “Mom. Please… don’t let her think it was me,” he begged Karina, clutching at her dress. He missed his sister, the slim and beautiful dancer of the family. He missed her soft skin, her delicate features, even her perfume, and he never wanted to let go.

***

It was Karina who put Zareth to bed and helped her mother out of her blood-stained wedding dress. It was she, with her soft, pleading voice, who calmed Arunite enough to keep him from wringing Seth’s neck. And it was she who told Seth that confronting his mother wouldn’t do him any good.

“It’s been years,” Seth said as they stood outside the luxurious inn that Elisabeth and Neil had planned to stay at that night. “Karina, I just want to see her! I need to talk to her.”

Karina shook her head. “I know, Seth. I know how you’re feeling but… Seth, she didn’t invite you for a reason,” she whispered. “I asked her to. Even Arunite was okay with it, after a while. But she didn’t want to… Oh, I don’t know. Seth…” The girl who’d valiantly kept her family from falling completely apart suddenly burst into tears. “Things were supposed to change today, for the better. Arunite’s been wanting to move out and marry Sabrina for-“

“-five years, I know.”

“I was going to join a dancing troupe this year. Me! A Gerudo caravan came by, and they wanted me to dance with them. I was supposed to leave tomorrow morning…”

Seth bit his lip to keep from crying. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry… I’m leaving right now, you’ll never have to see me again…”

“No. Seth, I love you. I worry about you all the time. Where have you been living all these years? You’re so thin, you’ve got bruises all over you-“

“-don’t worry about me,” Seth cut in firmly. “Please.”

Karina took a deep breath and nodded. “I… trust you. But… I need you to-"

“-you want me to find out who did it,” Seth said, and although he was relieved to see that his telepathic abilities hadn’t disappeared after all, reading her mind gave him a sinking feeling.

She nodded and pulled him close. He could smell her perfume, clear and clean like water, nothing like his mother’s heavy mix of smoke and musk. “Please, Seth. I need to know who did it. I need him dead.”

The soft, sweet flower of a sister transformed into a viper in his arms. He’d never heard her speak with such malice before, but he nodded and promised all the same.

***

“What’s up?” Arrika said, approaching a disheveled-looking boy in an ill-fitting suit in the middle of the town square.

Seth was standing beneath the white arch, fingering the ivy that had entwined itself lovingly between the latticework. He took Arrika’s hand, pressed it to his heart, and with a vision that passed in the blink of an eye, showed her everything.

“I can’t See a thing. I haven’t got a clue where to start. I’m so… useless!” Seth growled, kicking at the arch.

“You mean normal?” Arrika replied, and circled him with a 10-foot radius. Her crimson eyes flashed as she stared fixedly at a spot a foot behind the arch. “Which way did your mother go?”

Seth pointed vaguely to the south, towards the inn.

“And how about the body?”

“Same way, generally. The Bennetts are staying at the same place, and they took Neil with them.”

“Curious.” Arrika pointed at a faint trail of blood that led north. “Seems like we’ve got a lead.”

The two thieves took off into the dark.

As they followed the blood trail, they felt an increasing feeling of both trepidation and chilling familiarity.

"...I should have realized," Arrika said, staring down at a blood-stained trapdoor. It was one of the many entrances to The Den, an underground town that served as a club, hall, bar, inn, and generally meeting place for the rogues and more Chaotically-inclined denizens of Hyrule. It was a complex labyrinth that extended well under Hyrule Castle and even some parts of Hyrule Fields, with secret passages and doors leading to various parts of the town and even the castle. Having been raised by Kobas, Seth and Arrika were very familiar with the winding passages and chilly rooms of stone, but were still far from uncovering all of its secrets.

"Are you surprised?" Seth said. He reached for the handle, but Arrika held him back.

"We can't go in there!" she hissed. "They'll tear us apart."

"So what do you want to do? Just stand here and hope he comes back out this way? There's hundreds of doors into the damned place, and you want to just stand here-!"

"-Seth. Calm. Down," Arrika said, grabbing his shoulders and looking him straight in the eyes. It was an odd situation for both of them, because normally Seth was the more coldly logical, level-headed of the two. "Alright? We'll go back, find some help... There's no way we're going in there alone."

The two thieves made their way back to the Town Square, looking for anyone who would be of some help to them.

OOC: I don't know what to post =P
That and ALL of my characters are involved with something right now.

IC:

Dogura found traveling through Town Square to be much easier without the Darkin.

For some reason, his feathered friend couldn't pass up a sign to save his life. Perhaps that lich attack was a blessing in disguise. The samurai thought as he traveled pushed through the crowds, his hood and cloak shielding his identity. As he walked, he chanced upon a couple being wedded. At first he turned his head in disgust. Another young couple of suckers thinking something good can last forever. Whatever possessed him to look back in that direction wouldn't have to act upon him again- this time he saw the two to be wedded. They were an elderly couple, and suddenly the samurai felt a little disappointed in his earlier half-minded thought. He stopped, and leaned against a nearby wall, smiling for the two. To think at that age... Still struggling to find happiness. It's nice to see that kind of will. He thought, awaiting the wedding to commence.

Suddenly- chaos. Smoke filled the wedding, and Dogura realized quickly that the people weren't expecting that. He couldn't react fast enough, and before anyone could do anything to help, the groom had been murdered. Dogura rushed onto the scene, but couldn't pick out the culprit- whoever he was might have already escaped. Could it have been another lich attack? No, no, the lich from before seemed rather feral. Why would one of the liches bother with a smoke-bomb anyhow? He searched his mind for answers, but couldn't think of any reason why someone would assassinate a groom on the day of his wedding. It was so wrong, and almost spiteful. It was highly likely that the murderer chose this day on purpose. Whether it was to do it publicly, or just out of sheer twisted revenge. Fingers were already being pointed, to make matters worse.

Suddenly he realized that this was the worst place for him to be right now. Certainly the guards would be here soon- and who better to blame than the cloaked man that nobody knows? Worse than that, he was already wanted for the Ornery Cucco incident, hence the cloak. He cursed his luck, and non-chalantly made his way away from the current situation. He melded into a nearby shadow and made his way up the wall of a nearby building, so he could watch what happened. Whatever the case, North Castle Town was seeing some mysteriously bad luck as of recent. You really can't be safe anywhere these days can you... Sheesh. He thought bitterly as he watched the situation unfold.

OOC: Arrika, does this take place before or after Gossip Isle? I assumed after, but I want confirmation if that's cool with you. ^^;

OoC: Yes, it's after Gossip Isle. Also, I'm going to edit the end of the 1st post so it sounds like more of an opportunity for people to join >.> Sorry

IC:

"Dogura!" Arrika exclaimed, waving him over.

"Who's that?" Seth asked warily, slinking behind the older thief like a hesitant cat.

"He was part of the Gossip Isle crew," she said. "You were there at the docks when we came back, remember?"

"Oh... yeah..." he said, still distraught and having a difficult time hiding it.

"Dogura, listen... we need your help," Arrika said, her form flickering from view inconsistently with the dark, like a rippled reflection in water. "Seth, show him." She beckoned to the green-haired thief. "Come on," she said exasperatedly when he froze and glared at Dogura suspiciously. "He won't bite."

He closed his eyes, reluctantly came forward and took Dogura's hand, then placed it over his heart.

"...you see, we can't go in there alone," Arrika's voice faded in as the flurry of visions that hit Dogura ended.

"Technically, we could. Kobas used to more or less own The Den," Seth spoke up. "But they know who we are... we'll be recognized immediately, and those rogues are more likely to protect that bastard than lend us a hand." His voice shook and he bit his lip.

Arrika extended a hand to pat him on the shoulder, but he slapped her away.

"Stop! Just... don't. I'm ok. And we're wasting time," he snarled suddenly as he ran off towards the trapdoor that would lead them to The Den.

"He's crying..." Arrika said softly. "That's the first time I've ever..." Her expression hardened. "He's right, though. Whoever did it is getting away. Are you in? I can pay you later," she added as she took off after Seth, although the only money she had left was the rupee she'd found on Taint's ship. Dogura didn't need to know that now, though.

The closest entrance to the underground, the one the two thieves had ventured to only minutes before, was a simple and battered cellar door.

Seth held his breath as he pulled the trapdoor open by its bloodstained handle and dropped down.

Arrika cast a look back at Dogura, crimson eyes full of uncertainty. With an impish, almost guilty smile, she too dropped down into the cellar, with a nearly inaudible thump.

“It’s not too far down,” the Sheikah called back.

OOC: I have no idea what's going on >>;
IC:

The samurai listened to everything they had to say, and watched the visions flash before him. "I don't fully understand what's happening..." Dogura admitted, closing his eyes. "But you were there for us when we needed you, even if it was for treasure. I won't let you down." He motioned for them to lead the way, and followed them into the den.

OOC: Really sorry about the short post, but really don't know what's happening. My posts will increase in length when I have more to say and comment on XD

The cellar was dark and cold, and the sound of dripping water could be heard from nearby, plinking into an unseen, growing puddle with the consistency of a metronome.

Arrika and Seth led Dogura down a winding hall that narrowed and dipped intermittently, as if it were a passage dug in the sand by a child.

"The blood trail's run out... but it's definitely this way," Arrika whispered.

"Where's Sauron?" Seth said, looking around plaintively, but his shaggy hellcat was nowhere to be seen.

"Doesn't matter," Arrika said. "It's just a cat."

"Just a cat-!" Seth began, but Arrika clamped a hand over his mouth. They had reached the end of the passage and were standing in front of a door. The two thieves held their breath, and if Dogura listened carefully enough, he too could discern the sound of voices. Many voices.

"You see? Just a cat, huh? I bet you were counting on him to disguise us too!" Seth hissed softly, alluding to the various abilities his Twili cat possessed. "Anyway, luckily for us I borrowed these from that boyfriend of ours..." Seth produced a pair of beaked masks from inside his tunic, stolen from the rogue that he was rather fond of.

Arrika made a face but donned the mask anyway. The two thieves drew up their hoods as well for good measure.

"What about Dogura?" Arrika asked.

"He won't need one."

"You... know...?"

"No," Seth admitted in a defeated tone. "I still can't See a thing. What else are we going to do?"

Arrika made a grand sweeping gesture to Dogura to come forward. If he had a disguise of some sort, it wouldn't hurt.

"Knock twice, pause for two seconds, then knock again," she instructed him. She glanced at Seth. "That's the code for this one, right?"

Seth nodded his assertion, and the two thieves got behind the other adventurer.

OoC: It'll pick up in the next post.

Dogura now knew his role in this mission- he would be the first to test the waters. They were right to choose him too. The samurai was one of the most cautious people in all of Hyrule, sword always at the the ready. He slowly advanced forward, and performed the codded knock on the door. His hood was raised over his head, his feet ready to whisk him away to a shadow-melded safety at any given moment.

He thought hard about his course of action. Surely they would let him in, but how close of underground society were they? Would they know he was out of place immediately after entering? Would he have to retreat to a darkened corner in order to conceal his identity further? Surely cloaks were popular underground, so at first there would appear to be nothing wrong with him.

He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword under the privacy of his cloak. Should anyone try to strike him down, they had a grim fate in store for them. He calmed his mind and relaxed his muscles. It wouldn't do if he looked tense, or uneasy. He retained this relaxed posture, running through what he'd say in his head. Things would work out far better if this family of criminals weren't very close to one-another.

There was a slight pause before the door creaked open. Arrika felt Seth tense behind her but held back the urge to squeeze his hand.

The two slender, nearly identical wisps of thieves followed the samurai into the room with their heads slightly bowed, giving off an air of insignificance.

There was a sizeable crowd in the room, many of them seated on the stools at a rickety bar or the table with the card game. A cloud of haze lingered at the top of the room, a collection of smoke from the cigars and pipes sported by a good number of the rogues there, who cared little for the poor ventilation. None of them openly glanced Dogura's way, but a man leaning precariously on the back legs of his chair looked him up and down. Thankfully, he seemed to decide that he wasn't a threat, and went back to downing the glass in his hand.

Arrika moved forward and brushed her hand against Dogura’s for a split second.

The trail ended here. Can you find us a lead? Anything helps.

The telepathic message was fragmented and hesitant, for Arrika had not yet got over her distrust with magic, and had an incarnate reluctance to open up her mind to anyone.

"Oh good, you're here. Wilson's in the back room. Gave him half a tumbler of whiskey just a few minutes ago to, you know... take his mind off things," exclaimed a harried looking young man.

Arrika relaxed when she saw the flute strapped to his side. They could deal easily with a bard if need be, but...

"Well, hurry up! Wilson's in terrible pain, and... you are doctors, aren't you?" the bard asked Seth and Arrika, his brow furrowing.

Seth and Arrika bit their tongues at the same time, unwilling to take the chance of giving themselves away by their voices.

The green-haired thief saw no way out of the situation and nodded vigorously; they could slip away once the bard left them alone with Wilson.

The bard exhaled in relief. "Thank the Goddesses! Last time Rodson asked me to send for... well, you know, entertainment, I accidentally got jesters and jugglers because I thought he meant... oh, well, you know!" He laughed nervously. "I'm Marcel, by the way," he said as he led the two thieves into a small side room. "Make yourself at home," he called back to Dogura. "There's a card game over there, the bar's, well, I'm sure you can spot that one, and we've even got a psychic. The lady in the corner!" he added, pointing and gesticulating wildly. If Dogura was going to start looking for some clues, she seemed like a promising place to start.

Seth froze and turned to glance at the proclaimed psychic, but Arrika nudged his foot pointedly and ushered him into the room.

A man lay on a graying pallet in the corner, groaning softly.

"Oh, sorry, sorry!" Marcel exclaimed as he trod on Arrika's foot in the cramped space. "That's Wilson," he explained unnecessarily. "We aren't completely sure what's wrong with him, but we think he might have eaten some of the rat poison."

Arrika's and Seth's masked faces stared back at him blankly.

"We put it in the food sometimes! The rats are... big down here," Marcel said lamely. "Sometimes, more Wolfos than rat, you know?"

He backed away respectfully towards the door and stood there wringing his hands.

Arrika grimaced but approached the sick man, placing her hands on his forehead and pretending to examine him.

"Shouldn't you take off your gloves? You know, to see if he has a fever or something?" Marcel piped up.

The Sheikah slowly slipped off the glove on her right hand. Wilson's head was sticky with sweat, and the mask she wore did more to restrict her breathing than keep out the poisonous smell. Seth stared back at Wilson pointedly.

"Oh. Sorry. I guess you want some space? You know, it is a bit cramped in here... I'll be right outside if you need me!"

Seth locked the door after him, and Arrika knew the irritated expression he must be wearing behind his mask.

Arrika slipped her glove back on and lay a gentle hand over Wilson's eyes. Seth lifted his mask just over his mouth.

What do we do with him? Seth mouthed.

Arrika shrugged.

The psychic pulled his cloak aside and pointed at his dagger, but Arrika shook her head. No, if they killed Wilson, Marcel would probably figure out that something was wrong. Probably.

Seth waved at Wilson wildly. Then do something!

The Sheikah sighed. She knew little about healing, but she did know about poison, and Wilson's symptoms most likely pointed towards an unlucky experience with rat extermination. If it had been any stronger form of venom, he would have been dead by now. She dug in her pockets, her fingertips brushing the familiar silver chain of Kobas’ destroyed pocket watch, and she repressed a shiver that didn’t come from the draftiness of the room.

She had a vial full of an antidote for the most potent of poisons, but she was unwilling to waste even a drop of the precious substance on a stranger. For a moment she considered Seth’s idea to just kill the man and be done with it, and disappear before anyone found out. But was this man’s life worth less than a drop of the liquid, or even the entire vial…?

OoC: The doctor thing isn't random; I always imagined Thea's mask as the ones the doctors in Assassin's Creed wear. ...you know?

The samurai felt her hand brush his, and he halted. That must be an indicator to stop for whatever reason.

"The trail en--- here. C-n you find -- a lead? An----ng helps."

He picked up a static telepathic message. He figured she must either be aware of other telepathic people in the room, or she was trying to maintain a mental defense against him. The samurai was a little hurt that people didn't trust him to not read their minds without their permission. But how could he blame them? It was, after all, an unintentional habit of his. But he picked the up the important meaning of it, and began to mentally scan the people around him. Just then, trouble happened.

"Oh good, you're here. Wilson's in the back room. Gave him half a tumbler of whiskey just a few minutes ago to, you know... take his mind off things."

Instantly it occurred to Dogura that Wilson might indeed be the assassin. Unless he was a stone cold killer, he would be expected to feel a tad guilty for killing an old man on his wedding day.

"Well, hurry up! Wilson's in terrible pain, and... you are doctors, aren't you?"

Pain? Doctors? That didn't make sense to the lead he thought he'd had. Why would we be doctors? He thought, carefully considering his actions. Suddenly, it hit him- they looked like Beak Doctors. This man must be one hell of an idiot. Beak masks are distinct, there's more to the outfit than this. However, now that I have a measure on this guy's mental capacity, he should be easy to trick, and bypass. The beak masks were used for doctors who dealt with infection. The mask's beak-like appearance acted as sort of a respirator. It was normally filled with sweet smelling flowers and spices to counteract the 'evil air born infections'. Beak doctors worked primarily with contagious infections, always carried a cane. The cane was used for keeping people away, and removing the victim's clothes without getting too close. Another indicator that they weren't Beak Doctors was that they weren't wearing the wide-brim hat, that certified them as being a doctor.

It was then that one of them behind him must have either nodded, or given a thumbs up, because without words, Marcel (as he introduced himself) led them to a small room, with the patient on the table. After explaining the area, he proceeded to give them information they didn't necessarily need... Or did they?

"There's a card game over there, the bar's, well, I'm sure you can spot that one, and we've even got a psychic. The lady in the corner!"

A psychic. That was good news, and bad news at the same time. The samurai instantly erected a mental barrier, as he probably should have done earlier.

"We aren't completely sure what's wrong with him, but we think he might have eaten some of the rat poison."

Yep. Definitely a bunch of idiots.

"We put it in the food sometimes! The rats are... big down here,"

It keeps getting funnier. The samurai suppressed a smile, instead making a face of concern.

Dogura looked down at Wilson, who still seemed to be conscious. With the two arguing, he knew they wouldn't have all the time in the world here, and they certainly wouldn't be any better off healing the man, or leaving him for dead. If they left him alone, and Marcel found that they didn't treat him, they would suddenly be the focus of something they weren't a part of. Conversely, if they healed him, they may also have more focus turned on them. Dogura decided to act on his best intuition, and moved slowly over to the man who lay on the table. "Rat poison, hm? It's a miracle that a poison meant to kill rats the size of Wolfos hasn't killed this man yet."

He spoke softly, before leaning down to the man. "We'll fix you right up..." He whispered before seizing the sickly man by the throat. His cloak covered the scene, as the he pressed down hard on Wilson's throat. It wouldn't kill the man, but it would render him unconscious, which would definitely help their situation. They could claim that they attempted to treat him, but he fell unconscious. If left unconscious, he would die of natural causes, which would also help their situation. He would continue to clutch the man's windpipe until he stopped moving. "We'll fix you... right up."

OOC: If you had plans for the guy, or I derailed the topic to seriously with my rash actions, let me know and I'll be happy to edit.

Arrika's eyes widened in shock as Dogura strangled Wilson, but didn't stop him- he, as proven at Gossip Isle, was someone who knew what he was doing. Her trust was rewarded, and she gratefully pocketed the precious vial.

"I think I like him," Seth whispered before pulling down his mask over his face. He returned with Marcel and wordlessly pointed at Wilson's unconscious figure.

"Oh, is he cured already?" Marcel asked, leaning over Wilson and peering at his face curiously. "He's still sweating that gross-smelling... sweat, you know?"

Seth turned his palms face up, in the form of a shrug.

"Oh! I get it! You've given him an antidote, but falling unconscious is a side effect!" Marcel exclaimed.

Arrika rolled her eyes behind her mask.

"Well, I'll go ahead and get your payment. A job well done, you know?" The exuberant bard practically skipped out of the room.

Seth grabbed Arrika's hand and looked at her intently, and she tilted her head to the side in confusion. The boy wanted to growl in frustration- it seemed that all of his psychic and telepathic abilities were still impaired. He pointed at the door, then at Dogura.

Ah, so the little thief was getting antsy again. She shook her head; if they left without pay, that would be extremely suspicious, and Marcel would remember them.

She brushed against Dogura again.

Thanks. We'll wait here for Marcel. Can you ask around?

OoC: It's fine ^^

Everything had gone as planned. Wilson wasn't even able to resist in his weakened state. The samurai let go of the man's throat, and made sure there were no red marks left from his grip. They were there, but very faded. Dogura sighed, and watched as Leth retrieved Marcel. A small wordless conversation ensued.

"Oh! I get it! You've given him an antidote, but falling unconscious is a side effect! Well, I'll go ahead and get your payment. A job well done, you know?"

Dogura held all the laughter inside. You've got to be kidding me. This is just too easy. He thought as Marcel left to pay them for infiltrating their base, impersonating doctors, and killing Wilson. Arrika once again brushed against him, indicating that another impaired telepathic message was about to attempted. This time, tightening his focus in preparation for the message, it was much more clearly received.

Thanks. We'll wait here f-- Marcel. Can y-- ask aro-nd?

Dogura nodded, responding with another message.

No problem. How long are we going to be here? If the poison doesn't kill him, he'll wake up in a couple of hours. It wouldn't be good for us if he informed everyone that a doctor strangled him. In any case, I guess I'll get to searching around.

Dogura walked over to the bar and took a seat. He looked over to the guy next to him and smiled. "Hail! Did you hear about dat murder in the Town Square?" Dogura asked in a raspy voice. "He wacked the da guy on da day of his own weddin'. That's some pretty stone cold stuff. Was dat one of our guys?" He asked, trying to seem envious of the criminal. He could surely get a lead, or better yet a name if somebody knew the murderer.

Not very long, I hope. It all depends on you... We can't talk to anyone right now, Arrika replied.

The man beside Dogura was rather large. Very large, in fact, to the point that he practically spilled over his stool. He looked up from his beer, which he had been peering into intently, as if he could discover some sort of secret within its amber depths, and grunted noncommittally.

The bartender snorted at the failed conversation and spat onto a rag, which he used to wipe the insides of a large glass.

"New here, aren't you?" came a smoky, silky voice, as a curvy girl in a tightly-cinched, plunging dress sidled over. "Never seen you before... and I'm here most nights." She ran a well-manicured nail over Dogura's lower lip. "The name's Lince, by the way."

The bartender snapped his rag at the girl. "Leave 'im alone, Lince. He's a green thumb if I ever saw one. 'ey, boy. Stay away from this girl, if ya know what's good for ya."

"Seems like we got a lot of those 'green thumbs' running around today," Lince commented. "A man came in here earlier. He had his hood up, though..." she trailed off. "I know he was a new guy, though. His body was something to die for, not like the rest of the idiots here..." she grumbled. After a moment's consideration, she wrapped her arms around Dogura's neck. "You're not bad, either. Whaddya say we-"

The bartender made a shooing motion, and Lince made an exaggerated pout.

"What do you know? Maybe he's interested in a little fun, hmm?"

"Quit it, Lince," the fat man interjected in a low, rumbling voice. "He's not interested." He jerked his thumb at the psychic in the corner that Marcel had pointed out. "Ask Netta about the guy who came in earlier. I saw them talking."

"You're always ruining my business," she growled at the bartender and the large man.

"New here, aren't you?"

Dogura's eyes turned to the woman who grew closer than he thought she would.

"Never seen you before... and I'm here most nights. The name's Lince, by the way."

It was becoming increasingly apparent that she was in the business of selling her body to lonely men with no self control. In any case, the samurai didn't flinch. Simply stared coldly at her.

"Leave 'im alone, Lince. He's a green thumb if I ever saw one. 'ey, boy. Stay away from this girl, if ya know what's good for ya."

"You needn't worry. I don't carry my money on my person." He hoped this would deter her away from him. "It isn't safe." He added, narrowing his eyes.

"You're not bad, either. Whaddya say we-"

The samurai was about to interrupt her when the bartender interjected first.

"Quit it, Lince, he's not interested. Ask Netta about the guy who came in earlier. I saw them talking."

"Thanks for da tip." Dogura spoke again in his fake accent. He gently pushed the woman off of him, and walked across the room to the psychic. He sat down across from her, and folded his hands on the table. "I unduhstand your name's Netta," he began. "I'm also unduh de unduhstandin' that you know who wacked dat groom earlier. Well I got a special gift for him; it was one hellava job to pull off. Might ya know who he is, or better yet where he is?"

He continued to act as an admirer. He felt that it was his best cover. He was getting uncomfortable down in this dump. He was more careful now than ever to block his thoughts. It wouldn't do for her to find out his true ambitions.

Lince made an offended sound of protest when Dogura pushed her off. The sound of her snapping at the bartender could be heard as the samurai walked away.

There was a deck of cards upon the table, the backs inscribed with ancient runes. Netta was busy collecting the cards to shuffle them when Dogura approached.

"Thanks for da tip." Dogura spoke again in his fake accent. He gently pushed the woman off of him, and walked across the room to the psychic. He sat down across from her, and folded his hands on the table. "I unduhstand your name's Netta," he began. "I'm also unduh de unduhstandin' that you know who wacked dat groom earlier. Well I got a special gift for him; it was one hellava job to pull off. Might ya know who he is, or better yet where he is?"

The psychic flinched as he sat across from her, glance darting across the room before she slowly raised the gauzy lavender veil she wore to peer at him with large, deep amethyst-colored eyes. She was younger than she first appeared to be, and looked around Seth's age. She wore light robes made of silk that outlined her extremely slender, almost frail body. Her fingers were thin and nimble, and her hands shook as she awkwardly shuffled the deck.

"W-would you like me to t-tell your forutune?" she stammered instead, as if that was the only response she knew.

She lay out 10 cards on the table, muttering as she did so. "Present.... Immediate Challenge... Distant Past... Immediate Future...? Yes, I think it is, um, Factors, Outcome, Hopes and Fears- No, no, I think I skipped the other..." She fumbled with the cards, switching their positions and rearranging them with a flustered expression. "Sorry, I'm n-not very good at this- Oh, that's right, I left out Recent Past here, External Influences goes there..." As difficult as reading Dogura's fortune proved to be, she seemed intent on at least completing part of the job. "Oh, forget it, I'll just do Immediate Challenge, Immediate Future, and Final Outcome... Y-you look like someone who would want to know those th-things, right?" She looked at him with a worried expression and bit her lip, wringing her hands nervously. Her eyes darted around the room once more, as if she were afraid of something.

She flipped over the three cards she had finally decided on. "This one is your immediate challenge. Hmm, Three of Pentacles... I think it means you're putting your faith in... something... hold on, let me look it up." She dug into a satchel at her side and produced a small, weather-worn book. "No, sorry, this one is... teamwork? This card represents a task-oriented team - people who are working cooperatively toward a common goal..." she read aloud.

The next card depicted a tower struck by lightning. "A Tower... It represents a sudden, dramatic upheaval or reversal in fortune. Usually change is gradual, giving us time to adapt, but sometimes it is quick and explosive." She wrinkled her nose and peered back up at Dogura. "I don't know what advice to give you... that's a bit confusing..."

The last card was a sun emblazoned with gold leaf that seemed to glow, even in the dimly lit room. "Enlightenment," she said instantly, without having to reference the book. "I s-suppose that means you've got a question right now, and you'll find the an-answer in the e-end?" she stammered ironically, sweeping the cards back into a disordered pile. Now that her duties had been performed, for whatever unknown reason, it seemed that Dogura now had an opportunity to press his question again to the flighty woman.

She looked around the room again, her fingers twitching and blindly trying to arrange the cards into another deck.

Dogura watched the awkward woman stammer on and on, tripping on her words, and nervously looking around.

"Are you feeling well?" Dogura asked her, doing his best to pick up traces of her thoughts through his own mental barrier. It would seem however that wasn't a genuine fortune teller, and didn't have the capacity to peer into someone's thoughts. He kept his mental defenses up either way; no need to take unnecessary risks.

"In any case, what's da name of da guy dat moida'd the groom at that weddin'? I've got a special gift for him."

He was getting nervous having to repeat the question several times. Why can't anyone just answer the Din-damn question? It's such a simple question, really, what's so hard about answering one f*cking question? Oh great, my mental barriers are censoring my thoughts now. He rubbed his temple, obviously trying to alleviate a strong headache. He continued to attempt to see into her mind- normally when he wanted an answer, he'd simply take it directly from their mind.

OoC: This won't be too hard.

IC:

Dogura's mental probing was met by a dauntingly strong barrier, as if he was a flimsy arrow splintering against a stone wall.

"Are you feeling well?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Netta practically squeaked, drawing her veil across her mouth and trying not to cringe.

"In any case, what's da name of da guy dat moida'd the groom at that weddin'? I've got a special gift for him."

"I d-don't know about any murder..." she stammered, her mental barriers still proving incredibly strong against the samurai. "W-well..." her voice dropped to a whisper and she leaned forward, tugging on Dogura's fingertips timidly so he would come closer as well. The many bangles on her wrists clinked against the table noisily. "There was this man who walked in earlier, and-"

At that moment, Seth and Arrika exited the small broom closet that had served as Wilson's recovery room, sizeable pouches of money in their hands. Netta and Seth flinched at the same time and stared at each other across the room as if they had been struck by lightning.

Marcel, who had just scurried out of the room after them, collided into Seth. The green-haired boy, still just as jumpy as he was earlier, flinched and hissed at the bard.

“Geez, buddy, didn’t mean to bump into you! Just an accident, you know?” Marcel said, holding up his hands.

“Hey. Move,” Lince said arrogantly, who had just tried to squeeze past all three of them.

Seth was once again staring stock-still at the slender, bird-like woman in the corner, unable to tear his eyes away, and in his world the curvy woman did not exist.

“Lince,” came a rumbling voice. The fat man Dogura had tried to speak to at the bar earlier appeared behind Lince and although he wanted to pass her, seemed very unwilling to touch her. “Move, Lince, I need to take a piss-“

“-shut up, fatso,” she replied, turning on him, her short skirts spinning wildly. “You can’t tell me what to-“

“-Lince! Martin’s here to see you,” squealed an equally underdressed girl, hopping up and down excitedly on her precariously tall heels. She craned her neck, trying to see past the man in front of her. “Hurry up, Lince, he said he’s been waiting for at least half an hour!”

“Martin?! Really?!” Lince exclaimed, her head visible just over the fat man’s shoulder.

“Lince, I really need to use the bathroom,” the large man intoned again, ever patient.

“Marly, where ya goin’?” slurred another man, who tipsily slung an arm around the girl. “I paid for all night, didn’ ah…?”

“It’s Marcie,” the chipper girl replied, staggering under his weight. “Lince, come on-!”

“-Lince, ohmygosh Lince! Martin’s here right now, he’s waiting in your room,” shrieked another young woman, and a whole troupe of them crowded behind Marcie and her drunken mark.

“Marcie, tell him to wait just a minute- will you move?” Lince exploded, clawing her away through, halfway climbing on a nearby table and squeezing past. She stumbled on her tall shoes and into the arms of a man in a leather jacket.

“What the hell is going on here?” the newcomer asked quietly.

The babble immediately ceased, and the gaggle of escorts slunk away.

“Ho, Rodson,” the fat man said. “I’m off to the loo.”

Rodson merely nodded at him and took a drag on his cigarette. “Marcie.”

“Yes. Sorry. We’re going, we’re going,” the previously elated girl said, dragging away the man hanging on her.

Rodson’s steely gaze fell on the woman in his arms. “Where the hell have you been, Lince?”

“I- I was-“

“Martin’s been waiting for you for half an hour. That’s coming out of your pay.”

She hurried to her room with her head bowed, all arrogance gone.

The crowd now dispersed, all that was left to draw Rodson’s attention was the still shell-shocked Seth and Arrika, who wanted nothing more than to meld away and sink into the floor.

Rodson circled the pair, looking them up and down critically. “Who’re you?”

“They’re the doctors! You know, the ones you asked me to-“ Marcel piped up.

“-sorry I’m late, my apprentice here forgot the door code.”

All heads turned as a man in a long white coat and holding a hefty, burlap bag hurried into the room, with a teenage boy in a white smock at his heels.

“Where’s the patient? Winston, is it? A case of…” He peered at a pocket-sized notebook. “…rat poisoning?” He looked up questioningly at everyone present.

“Wilson. His name’s Wilson, you know,” Marcel replied. “But it’s ok! These two doctors here already took care of it, and I paid them and everything!”

Arrika felt her heart sink as Rodson’s look turned into a sharp glare.

“Who are you?” he asked, all geniality gone.

At the table in the corner, Netta clutched at her heart and gasped. She shut her eyes, her breathing heavy and erratic. “I don’t… understand… The man you’re looking for, I… Who is he?” She opened her eyes and it was unclear whether she meant the murderer or Seth. “You need to- we need to go. Now. I know what you’re looking for, I can almost See it but I can’t be sure and-“

“-Netta!” Rodson barked, his eyes still trained on the pair of masked thieves before him.

The slender woman dropped Dogura’s hand, swept her cards into her pouch, and meekly hurried to Rodson’s side. “Yes, sir?”

The gang boss grabbed the psychic by her arm and dragged her closer. “Search their minds. Tell me why they’re here.” He could have easily have their masks removed by force, by there was something about the shape of the masks themselves that made him keep his distance. Who know what lunacy could lurk behind those guises? And to come posing as doctors…

“I-I can’t-“

“Speak up!”

“I can’t do it! I can’t See a thing,” Netta said, her eyes wide with fright and locked on Seth.

Rodson grabbed her by her hair and pulled her closer to them, and the pain he was causing her was the farthest thing from his mind. He wanted to know why these slender wraiths were here, how they could have gotten the code and entered his domain. He was a thief clever enough to figure out which were the right throats to slit to allow him to move up the ranks. Although he was the boss of this particular gang of rogues and this section of The Den, he was far from a good leader, and not at all brave. Taking that all into account, it was not unbelievable that the strange appearance of the masked phantoms put him on edge. “Well?!” he demanded, as if closing the few feet between them would aid her telepathic abilities.

“No- I can’t, I’m trying, I swear!”

Seeing the way Netta was being treated made Seth snap. He had seen the way she shut her eyes, trying to block out her own abuse, mirrored in himself. He heard, in her shrieks of pain, the same ones he made with Rhyss, and he couldn’t stand seeing a similar act played before his very eyes. He drew a knife, the motion concealed beneath his cloak, and lunged at Rodson.

Surprisingly, Rodson flung Netta away instead of keeping her hostage as he lunged back.

Arrika lashed out a split second after Seth, as quickly as her reflexes allowed, for if Seth was blowing their cover, there was no longer a reason to hold back. She managed to slash through the front of Rodson’s shirt, but barely nicked the skin.

The din in the room from the other vagabonds fell silent, then grew to a steady rumble of muttering. The doctor grabbed his apprentice and dragged him to the side.

“Why can’t we just leave?” the shaking apprentice whispered.

“In a few minutes this room will be full of the dead and dying. Business is about to pick up,” the doctor replied.

“I don’t know who you two think you are, but you’re not leaving here alive!” Rodson snarled, drawing a heavy two-handed sword that was more intimidating than useful in the crowded room.

Rodson L9, Human
STR-6; DEF-4; AGI-10; INT-5; SPI-2; SPL-0; HP-60
Weapon: Deku 2H Sword
DMG: 14, -2 to hit

Abilities:

Overwrought
Rodson’s nerves get the best of him and he attacks twice, but deals only half the normal amount of damage the second time. Can be used once every 3 turns.

He swung his sword experimentally, causing all the rogues near him to disperse, and many others to leave for the tunnels immediately. The ones that remained gave him, Seth, and Arrika a wide berth; it was quite obvious that although he owned this room, he didn’t have their loyalty.

It was Seth who attacked first, his blade a blurred silver arc.

SethL8
HP-31; SPL-19; STR-4; DEF-14; AGI-3; INT-6; SPI-1
Weapon: Deku Dagger
DMG: 5

Rodson tried to dodge but ended up bumping into one of the many card tables, giving Seth the opportunity to create a diagonal slash that extended from his right shoulder towards his left hip bone, and leaving the doctor hidden away in the corner very pleased.

[Rodson -5 HP]

Arrika wasted no time in following up the attack, drawing her copper rapier and stabbing at the howling man.

She missed, however, and ended up skewering the table, sending splinters flying.

Rodson clutched at his chest and swung his sword at Seth in rage, but the lithe thief leaped over a table, narrowly missing a devastating blow.

Arrika: HP-41/41
Seth: HP-31/31
Rodson: HP-55/60