24th of Cylus 721
It had often been Woe's custom, when beginning to settle down in a place, to establish his credibility in the area, as a person that could be relied upon to be useful to those who held the reins of power, or else factions that would enjoy reconciliation toward the authorities. Such habits were hard to break, even now, as he began listening in for rumors and opportunities as soon as he landed in his new house. Still, those rumors were slow-moving, especially in Egilrun, which was gripped in an atmosphere of suspicion toward newcomers. It took Woe getting settled in and just doing 'normal people' things until they started to accept that he was there to stay, even if they didn't like it. Of course, he never let on that he was a mage, and was careful to conceal as much, using the Ring of Paradigm.
He held that ring in his hand now, having completed the term of his confinement of three days, during which he was subjected to the full effect of his mutations, unable to soothe or conceal them in anyway. He relied heavily on the discretion of his household during this time, as well as deep confinement in his rooms, reading what he could, and listening to what information that Gloom had managed to cobble together, from just skulking around the town.
He held the steel band of Paradigm in his hands, and considered it for a moment. Could he attune to such an object, one that rejected all forms of Domain magic, even suppressed them? He didn’t know why that thought had occurred to him, but it seemed it’d be useful to acquire its frequency, if only to avoid being clamped in Paradigm cuffs unwittingly. He considered the ring, until he felt its hold over his sparks fade entirely. And then, they roared back to their full might. Woe soothed his sparks, one by one, not wanting to risk the slightest suspicion in his guest who would soon be arriving.
Tobias Lamkey was the man in charge of much of Egilrun’s security, running the Watcher’s Union as their political leader, if not their best fighter. He was nonetheless someone that Woe ought to get to know, even if the rumors were true that they were now at odds with Liza, the current Egg.
Breaks later, as their guest arrived, Woe was in the kitchen with Gloom, watching as the tunawa worked the stove with expertise that really astounded a man like Woe, whose experience in culinary arts was limited to boiling water. The tunawa soon developed a knack for Egilrun specific cuisine and even seemed a bit excitable for one like him. He truly hadn't seen the tunawa this upbeat before.
"You see, you sprinkle a bit of salt, and dissolve it with lemon juice. And there we have it! A nice zest for a simple fish recipe." Woe nodded along, not quite following but happy to humor his good friend and personal chef. Truthfully, if Woe didn't think he was enjoying his occupation he might've worried that the tunawa was hiding some deeper dark mood. But no.
The tunawa slid the plate over toward Woe, which he took and brought out to the dining room. There, Fleaface was taking his morning beer and bread. Woe sat next to him, eager to hear what he'd learned. "So, Mister Morandi... There are these caped crusaders prancin' about the island. Theys snatching up criminals, cept sometimes they're not criminals, but valued members of society that get nabbed. So someone's gonna get tweaked, yous know? In this case, it were the Glass Union got itself in a particular twist over the whole thing. Some caped man spouting nonsense about justice snatchin' up Glass Union folk and clamping them in crystal shackles. So when they shatter if they try to break them, they get cut... Interesting M.O. if you ask me." The Union leader smirked at Woe. The mage almst thought he detected a sense of admiration from the man. "Theys think he or she might be a mage. So probably best avoided, rather than not." Tobias barked out his comments in a crude fashion as he slurped his food, without any regard for who overheard him. That was fine though, as far as Woe was concerned, at least for now. He didn't anticipate having been tailed or watched by any of his adversaries from abroad.
"Only in self defense." Woe still felt the need to correct him. Stoll had more or less forced his hand, in Ne'haer. He'd have preferred to learn more about the magic that were foisted upon him, rather than kill the man who initiated him. Yet there they were. Woe was fairly confident, between his budding competence for various magical disciplines and adequate investigative skills, he could figure out the identity of this caped loon.
He only needed a solid lead, which Tobias was quick to give him. "You want to head over to the old Slave Pens, I hear the last of the victims was found there. Maybe something could be done about it?"
Woe nodded, and got up from the table, leaving the food mostly untouched, which Tobias then slid over toward himself to finish. With a nod of thanks to his guest, Woe went out into the street and headed for Central Egilrun, where the Lemon Messy was.
He called out to Gloom, before leaving the dining area, ”Gloom, let the Captain out when he’s had his fill, will you? And send him home with some extra for the rest of the Union to enjoy.”
Thus, Woe left his house to the care of Gloom and the rest of his family.
Woe held his paradigm ring in his palm, and twirled it around his fingers, careful not to let it slip on. As he did so, he attuned to its frequency. Returning from the ether, came the concepts and frequency of a Paradigm Ring, steel, jewelry, simple steel band. Nothing that Woe wasn’t already aware of. But it could set the stage for finding out more about this place.
He came to the old Slave Pens, which had a rickety door that barely kept it contained. Woe was careful to avoid the eyes of anyone around, and sneaked around the back. There, he found a back entryway, but it was barr from the inside. Fortunately, there was a gap wide enough for Woe to fit his hands through. And doing so, he began to use his Glass Touch upon the plank that held the door intact. He muttered thanks to his second Patron, Chamadarst for the ability, before the entire plank was infused with the fragility of glass. Then, with a heave, he put his shoulder down and pushed into the door, shattering the plank and sending the door flying inward.
It didn’t make too much noise. The interesting thing about Glass Touch, was that it didn’t impart any other qualities of glass other than fragility. So none of the sharpness of fractured glass, nor the musical sound of glass falling. It sounded like splinters hitting the floorboards of the pens.
Woe proceeded through the back foyer, and into the main corridor of the pens. All along, on the side of the hallway were cells. They’d been stripped of bar metal and shackles, apparently, and none of the fixtures one would expect of a place meant to hold enslaved flesh.
If they’d been stripped by breakers and enterers (like himself at this moment) or absconded with by the slavers after they’d been made outlaws, was unclear to Woe. Yet, still, he tried following any potential frequency of any metal around. He picked up a similar one to the steel band, but it was not reminiscent of any sort of note that indicated a paradigm ring. Something that Woe had only just begun to get a grip on.
When he Doused, and followed the frequency, he kept his feet stepping lightly on the floors, though they creaked. It wasn’t until his bare foot grazed the nail in the floor, that he realized he’d been detecting nails in the floorboards. Well at least the greedy bastards hadn’t taken all that much from the building.
He went to the cell where the victim of the Crystal Blade was said to have been found. Perhaps there were clues he could follow there. And in that room, at the far corner, he saw the glint of glass or crystal. Following the shine, he made it to the far corner, and knelt by the remains of a broken crystal shackle, caked in trials-old dried blood. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed it as he began to attune to its notes and frequencies. He picked up the notes, of Crystal, Transmuted item. Yet as he continued to hold the shackle, it began crumbling in his hands, as if it’d lost its integrity. He’d only see something disintegrate once before in his life. When Llyr had destroyed the door that trapped them in that laboratory in Rhakros. So it was transmutation or…?
It wasn’t much, but it was a clue, and he had a few notes to show for it.
And so, Woe strode out of the corridor, and back through the rear foyer entryway. Back home, to think on his findings, and consider his next move.
