Woe startled on the lounger that he slept in, in the entertaining area of their Almund domicile. This was where for cycles, he’d sequestered Lacrima, and more recently their daughter. There, they carried on the work of The Bones, a fortune-telling business on the corner of the harbor district, and to the north of Almund, nearer Port Diablo.
Woe thought Lacrima was getting better, but of late she’d begun to have more of her verbal ‘revels’ where she’d predict outlandish fortunes, accuse Blodwen or Woe of being Sintra’s eyes in their house, or some other nonsense. Woe didn’t begrudge her. He didn’t even know yet the depths of the torment that had brought her to that state. The long suffering and sudden illness that ravaged body and mind.
She’d begun withering again, and to that he almost didn’t notice that she was standing askew from his position on the couch, watching him with her sunken eyes beneath a sleeping veil.
Lacrima pointed to him, “Her legs were upon you, just then. Weren’t they?” Her mouth turned to frown, and pout in anguish, “I saw them crawling over you as you slept.”
Woe shook his head, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “No, just a dream.” He assured her. However he realized his folly too late. She always was able to spot his lies better than most.
“No, her legs, her pincers, coiled around your neck and hands.” She sighed, a haggard breathing outward of despair and defeat, “They are hers to use now.”
Woe felt a line forming on his brow, as he considered the utter dismal outlook that was afflicting her. Though she may be right, that didn’t mean they ought to give up in defeat, or assume that all was lost. “Lacrima…” He tried to reach her, to grant her the healing touch of Sevrath, but she slipped out of reach at the last trill, and went back to her chambers.
Instead of comforting her, Woe was left to bitterly stew over this sudden degradation of her condition. Perhaps the Bones wasn’t the solution it’d seemed at the time. Perhaps she needed to distance herself, from any notion that she had a second sight. It was then he felt a ringing from his echo scroll, in his belt satchel where he kept his collection. This one was the same he shared with Balthazar. Curious, he opened it and read:
Tristen,
You asked me to check in on your friends at The Bones after the attack and it is in that spirit which I write to you now. Empty out the building. Keep your friends close. Dig deep to see what I mean.
- Bombiero
A foreboding message, and Balthazar, though he might be dramatic at times, was not a person who took exaggerated measures against danger. Oh he often brought overwhelming force to bear against impossible situations, but that was just par for the course. Heh wasn’t one to swat a fly with a sledgehammer, is all.
Woe frowned again, and reached for Apples beneath his collar. He grabbed the little spider, and thought to it, [/i]“Apples… there is something below us. We need to see what it is. Can you make your way down the catacombs, down to the deepest levels, and see what’s there? Keep me informed… we may have to make our separate ways for a while.”[/i]
Apples nodded its thorax, and gave a swift and agile salute with its foreleg, then hopped down and made its way through the cracks in the floorboards, directly into the catacombs.
Meanwhile, Woe busied himself gathering things, and sending out missives to the Scorpion’s Smile’s crew, Crawford Shipley and Korm Ki’enaq, who Woe had recently brought on as a helmsman and navigator for his ship. He told them to make ready for a trip to Scalvoristown, immediately. Then he sent the message along. Soon enough it’d get to them, but for now, he still had to see what was worth salvageing. Fire protocol was a strange thing, when there was no visible fire. But Woe had seen first hand the devastation that had been wrought by fires within the city, not sent by way of catapult. By all accounts, a man had snapped his finger, and caused fires to break out amidst the city itself.
That sort of thing, it didn’t happen by magic, at least not unless you were a mage on the order of Balthazar. And those were rare enough to give Woe doubt in the possibilities.
Still, he gathered what was worth keeping, viewing the bones of fortune that were on the table. Reluctantly, he took these. Blodwen emerged from the lower cabin, in her own quarters. She appeared confused by all the commotion so early. “What?” She asked her father.
Woe shook his head, “We’re going to Scalvoristown. Your mother is coming with us.”
“Oh are we” Blodwen sassed, “And who made you Lord Commander of the Bones?”
“Prophetic foresight.” Woe said, blandly. Then he slipped the bones of fortune into Blodwen’s hands, trusting her to keep them well protected on the way. “Here, these will keep your mother occupied in the Seastack Manor.”
Blodwen quirked a brow, “Then we aren’t going anywhere. It’s just me and mother?”
“I have urgent business in Gunvorton. I will join you when I can.” Woe tried to assure her. She seemed unimpressed, but resigned to his dictates.
It probably made little difference where she holed up, one secluded domicile was about as boring as the next.
So Woe continued on his way as Blodwen made to prepare to depart.
Woe breathed deeply, and about a quarter break, after gathering most of his needed things, and those of Lacrima, he felt Apples’ voice at the back of his mind. Fire fluid. Explosives. Bad stuff. Better haul it out of here. Gonna fade into the Beneath now, catch you later. Apples blue mimed a wave of his foreleg, and he was gone from Woe’s conscious.
The mortalborn gathered his family, and made for Navnea’s house, where she lived with her sons. After sharing a discrete message, that was innocuous to most others listening, about the explosives under Almund, he ushered her into his group, along with her sons who took just about what they needed.
Once aboard the Scorpion’s smile, they tried to remain casual, but there was a definite sense of understated panic in every motion they made. Woe called Soz from his perch, high above the city, and climbed on top of him. The ship was about ready to leave, and it was at this time Blodwen came up to him, looking up at Soz and her mortalborn father. “Woe…” She began, “Better not get killed.” She said.
Well, at least it was progress, from the abuse she usually hurled at him on departure.
So Woe took comfort in her farewell, as he flew off, toward Gunvorton.
The Scorpion’s Smile disembarked from Port Diablo, along with the rest of Woe’s contacts, sailing for Scalvoris, and he Sea Stack Manor that had been sold to him a few arcs ago.
Within the day he would arrive in Gunvorton, and find his way to Shania’s Inn, where he would make his base of operations while there. He concealed himself beneath a mask of anonymity, as he traveled, and after landing. Few would recognize him, except for his spiritual companions, Egil, Breen, and Apples, who would be instrumental in their abilities during the investiation, hopefully.
He bid Soz to stay in the wilds, and hide here for a time, hunting when necessary. For his part, he took some small comfort that his family may be safe on the Sea Stack house. At this point, with everything seeming to come undone, he could only hope.
