Chapter 6 (Continued)

[Ianaeveli Tigenet]

Chavon adjusts his shoulders and relaxes back again. The longer Iana talks, the more his lips curve like the proverbial cat that got into the cream. "So the Lady is indeed behind all of this. As I expected," he says. You could almost imagine him steepling his fingers in evil glee. "Doesn't it feel much better to just go ahead and tell me what you know? No need to argue, to make threats, just a conversation. A civilized conversation. I get so tired of the other kind sometimes. 'Why don't we just beat it out of him, boss?' they'll say, and yes... that does work sometimes. But sometimes they'll just tell me whatever I want to hear so that we'll stop beating it out of him, whether it's true or not. I appreciate that you're my partner in this, M Tigenet."

As she sees that smile, hears that odiously satisfied tone, Iana's eyes close in relief. He believed it. Her bluff worked, and she is going to be able to string him along for a little more.

She makes herself open her eyes again right away, though. She does not dare to take her gaze off of Chavon for more than the briefest moment - and, more importantly, she is fairly certain that he will interpret her relief as 'feeling good about telling the truth.' She cannot under any circumstances risk him realizing that she is actually relieved that he is going along with her lie.

So, instead, Iana makes a valiant, if shaky, attempt to smile back. "Thank you," she offers. Let him think that the weak nature of her smile is only from the fear that he already believes has just passed, or perhaps the very real pain in her hip that is very much not diminishing. "Yes, I do appreciate my good fortune that you are the one I am speaking to right now." There, that bit of sycophancy might buy her a few more moments to think....

He drums his fingers on his knee for a moment as he considered what to ask next. There are so many options. "Now, I have a lot of outstanding unanswered questions about this Lady, whoever she is. There are those I work for -- with, really, our goals simply align for now -- who are quite troubled by the sudden appearance of a new player in this little game of ours." He breathes in deeply through his nose. Iana's suggestion of scent might have gotten to him. "Especially one who seems to have a number of cards up her sleeves. Are you... affiliated by chance with this Lady? Or are you simply on her trail as well? What do you know of her? Details. I need details. What will she be doing at the Mayor's Ball? If she has access to the box, I have--"

He cuts off, holds up a hand in apology. "I talk too much. Please, you go ahead."

Perhaps…perhaps she can start to feed into the plan that she and Asra had been building? Can she feed him some more information - a place and a time when she 'knows' the Lady will appear, to lure him towards that place?

She might be able to play on that arrogance, too: if he is so focused on the idea that Iana is giving him - no, that he has made Iana give him - information that the other conspirators do not have, then he might be more willing to believe her.

Anything to draw this out longer, to keep him talking. Both in the hopes that he will let something slip, but also just to stall long enough that she can think of a way to escape, or that someone can come rescue her. How long has she been here? She does not even know.

Oh, gods, she thinks, absurdly, with a twinge of pain, I hope I am not late for my date,

And then tells herself, Focus. Focus.

"No, it's all right," Iana ventures, with another weak smile. "I - I do not know whether she has access to the box, but…" She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "I believe that I have managed to determine a few pieces of information about her. Not her age, or her name, unfortunately. Her appearance, I am sure you already know." She offers a plausible semblance of a respectful smile, full of confidence in Chavon's prior knowledge. "But her origin - my evidence suggests that she is from Kasial. She may even truly bear the title of Lady.

"Also, I have been studying the records of her past appearances. Where she has shown herself, at what times, and to whom." That is something plausible for her to have been doing - which he will know, if he has actually been keeping an eye on her. (She will shudder about that later. A lot.) "I think I've started to find a pattern."

She pauses, with another small sniff, then leans forward ever so slightly - not that she can manage any more than 'slightly', bound as she is - as if confiding a great secret. "I believe I may have determined where she will appear next."

[Asralynn Beauchaud]

Vensa, for once, doesn't have a torrent of words gushing from her mouth. She blinks owlishly, red-rimmed eyes now empty of tears. "Asra. Oh... okay. At Whitestone," she mumbles, looking down at her ghostly pale hands. Vensa clearly doesn't spend a lot of time outside.

She's silent for a while, then blurts out suddenly, "Tumbledown."

A little quiver passes through her body as though her brain has just returned to her body. "That's where I live," she says by way of explanation. "It's up from Dockside, down below the Plaza, West Island. It's named that because the roads are steep. Stuff tends to... well... tumble down. If you're not careful." Of course, Asra already knows all that, having lived in Meriava for years, but Vensa does like to explain things. And explain. And explain. Tumbledown's a step up from the Canals, but it's definitely not Highside. A lot of small apartments packed into a small space, but they're generally in decent shape. "You're awfully nice..." Her eyes go wide and she claps her hands over her mouth. "I'm such a cotton-head," she squeaks between her fingers. "I haven't asked your name. You must think me awfully ungrateful, you making all these offers and helping me and I c-c-can't even remember to ask your name!" Uh oh. Here come the water works again.

Asra smiles, putting a hand on Vensa's shoulder to calm her. "Just call me Lynn," she tells her. Retracting her hand, she takes a few steps away before waving over her shoulder. "Think about what I said. I'll come see you in Tumbledown sometime!"

* * *

For a moment, there's no response, just long enough for Asra to start to worry about Finch too. Then there's a clatter and a crash and a muffled string of curses that could only be Finch.

"Never know how to work these stupid things," Finch says, but she's not exactly saying it into the disc, given the muttered tone and the low volume. "Was I supposed to put my fingers here? Or is it upside down? Can you he--"

Finch's voice cuts off suddenly. She's apparently managed to turn the disc off entirely.

She's back a couple of seconds later. "--wasn't it at all. Shit. Is this thing on now? Asra?" she says, then speaks slowly and loudly. "Can. You. Hear. Me?"

If Asra wasn't so worried about Iana, not slightly flustered from her conversation with Vensa, she might find this situation with Finch figuring out the disc entertaining...

Who was she kidding. Leaning against the wall of the building she had hid behind, she lets her appearance fade back to her normal one as she smirked at the disc. She'd offer some advice, but she had faith in Finch's ability to figure it out. She had deft fingers, after all.

Once Finch's voice finally comes through clearly, Asra lifts it to her lips so that she can speak quietly (but clearly) with her companion.

"Yes, I can hear you," she confirms. "Listen, I think Iana got snatched up by someone in Obsidian. Some brute named Ishan that lives in Tumbledown. Turns out he's been talking to people outside of Obsidian, so there's a chance its the people we're working against..."

She pauses for a second, before muttering bitterly, "I wasn't fast enough to stop it, and I made some bad calls. That's the only information I have currently, but I've made connections with a potential informant. I... I'm not sure what to do from here. I could try tracking them down, but if I end up in another chase or a fight, I'm not going to last long. What should I do?"

[AftermathGM]

"Yes, I can hear you," she confirms. "Listen, I think Iana got snatched up by someone in Obsidian. Some brute named Ishan that lives in Tumbledown. Turns out he's been talking to people outside of Obsidian, so there's a chance its the people we're working against..."

She pauses for a second, before muttering bitterly, "I wasn't fast enough to stop it, and I made some bad calls. That's the only information I have currently, but I've made connections with a potential informant. I... I'm not sure what to do from here. I could try tracking them down, but if I end up in another chase or a fight, I'm not going to last long. What should I do?"

"First off, you are not going to get into a chase or a fight, not without help," says Finch, then lowers her voice. "And I am going to kick your shapely ass from here to Hara for not letting me know sooner. I'm in the middle of... something I can't get out of. Here's what you're going to do. You're going to contact Georg, and he's going to come help you. Somehow. Damn and damn and damn. He's not exactly inconspicuous. But I don't know any better options." There's a pause, and then her hushed voice comes back. "Can you disguise him somehow? Do you think you can get away with that?"

There's another pause, then Finch comes back and says quickly. "Gotta go. Please don't get yourself killed. Get in touch soon. Let me buy you a drink."

And then the signal goes silent.

[AftermathGM]

"No, it's all right," Iana ventures, with another weak smile. "I - I do not know whether she has access to the box, but…" She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "I believe that I have managed to determine a few pieces of information about her. Not her age, or her name, unfortunately. Her appearance, I am sure you already know." She offers a plausible semblance of a respectful smile, full of confidence in Chavon's prior knowledge. "But her origin - my evidence suggests that she is from Kasial. She may even truly bear the title of Lady.

Chavon tsks sharply at this. "If that is true," he mutters under his breath, "then my intelligence is faulty. My information says that she is northern Ardraveni of the merchant class. I need proof."

Of course, the Lady of Mists has made one appearance and there's no evidence to speak of regarding anything about her. Whoever told him she was an Ardraveni merchant is lying.

"Also, I have been studying the records of her past appearances. Where she has shown herself, at what times, and to whom." That is something plausible for her to have been doing - which he will know, if he has actually been keeping an eye on her. (She will shudder about that later. A lot.) "I think I've started to find a pattern."

She pauses, with another small sniff, then leans forward ever so slightly - not that she can manage any more than 'slightly', bound as she is - as if confiding a great secret. "I believe I may have determined where she will appear next."

This piece of information is like waving a piece of steak at a starving dog. Chavon sits up straighter, leaning forward almost involuntarily, as if the information is a lodestone drawing him nearer to Iana. "Tell me. Tell me the pattern and where she'll show her face next," he breathes, a feverish light in his eyes. "Is it the mayor's ball?"

[Asralynn Beauchaud]

"First off, you are not going to get into a chase or a fight, not without help," says Finch, then lowers her voice. "And I am going to kick your shapely ass from here to Hara for not letting me know sooner. I'm in the middle of... something I can't get out of. Here's what you're going to do. You're going to contact Georg, and he's going to come help you. Somehow. Damn and damn and damn. He's not exactly inconspicuous. But I don't know any better options." There's a pause, and then her hushed voice comes back. "Can you disguise him somehow? Do you think you can get away with that?"

There's another pause, then Finch comes back and says quickly. "Gotta go. Please don't get yourself killed. Get in touch soon. Let me buy you a drink."

And then the signal goes silent.

Finch's reply is... quick. She appreciates the reassurances, and while she suspects that the threat to kick her ass is genuine, she can't help but feel a bit proud at being described as 'shapely'. But she doesn't get much of a chance to get a word in. In the least, Finch answers her cries for help and gives her a direction forward.

"Ok," is really all she can say before the connection is cut, and she's left with silence once more.

Taking a breath, she activates the disc again and tries to connect to Georg.

"Georg? Are you there? There's a situation with Iana and I need some help," she begins. When he connects to the other end, she relays the same information she gave to Finch and requests that he meet her somewhere in the courtyard for them to convene and discuss plans.

[Ianaeveli Tigenet]

Chavon tsks sharply at this. "If that is true," he mutters under his breath, "then my intelligence is faulty. My information says that she is northern Ardraveni of the merchant class. I need proof."

Of course, the Lady of Mists has made one appearance and there's no evidence to speak of regarding anything about her. Whoever told him she was an Ardraveni merchant is lying.

Who are those sources? Iana wonders. If there is someone else spreading information about the Lady, then Iana very much wants to know who they are, and why - or whether? - they think their information is accurate.

This piece of information is like waving a piece of steak at a starving dog. Chavon sits up straighter, leaning forward almost involuntarily, as if the information is a lodestone drawing him nearer to Iana. "Tell me. Tell me the pattern and where she'll show her face next," he breathes, a feverish light in his eyes. "Is it the mayor's ball?"

Even while Chavon is speaking - even while she is speaking, Iana is desperately trying to think two steps ahead. It must be far enough in the future that Iana will have time to tell Asra, which means that it must be far enough in the future that Iana will be released or rescued.

Before eight o'clock tonight? she dares to hope. No, before seven at the latest - I will need to go home to clean up and change and get to -

Focus, Iana tells herself. Focus. Solve this problem, and then you can think about the date.

Right. So, the best outcome would be for Chavon to be apprehended by whoever comes to rescue Iana, but in case he gets away, setting a time and place for the Lady's next appearance can be a way to lure him back in so that they can catch him. So somewhere that has good sightlines and places for her friends to lie in wait, and with enough time to plan…

"Not the Mayor's Ball," she says, holding Chavon's gaze steadily in what she hopes is a display of honesty. For good measure, she widens her eyes a little, as if she were excited to be able to say, "Sooner than that. Much sooner. Two days from now. If my calculations hold, then the next appearance is going to be somewhere near water, and to the southwest of the previous one." There, that sounds suitably methodical and mysterious at the same time. "So the most logical conclusion would be that she will be near the fountain on Tokala Street."

[Georg Elsebethson]

Taking a breath, she activates the disc again and tries to connect to Georg.

"Georg? Are you there? There's a situation with Iana and I need some help," she begins. When he connects to the other end, she relays the same information she gave to Finch and requests that he meet her somewhere in the courtyard for them to convene and discuss plans.

The call from the Thingy startles Georg as he walks towards Opal, and he fumbles with it a bit before he's able to properly answer. "Shit," is all he can say at first. "I'm not exactly inconspicuous, but if we can find where she's been taken, I'll tear the door off its hinges. I'll be right there."

[Asralynn Beauchaud]

The call from the Thingy startles Georg as he walks towards Opal, and he fumbles with it a bit before he's able to properly answer. "Shit," is all he can say at first. "I'm not exactly inconspicuous, but if we can find where she's been taken, I'll tear the door off its hinges. I'll be right there."

"Thanks," she tells him before severing the connection.

Its not too much longer before Georg reaches the rendezvous point that she's set for them. She jumps slightly when she notices him, his size reminding her of Ishan for the briefest of moments before she gets a handle on her own anxiety.

"The best we can do," she tells him, "at least to start, is to go to Tumbledown and take a look around. If we can find Ishan, then we can probably find Iana. As far as disguises... there's not much I can do for your size, but I can, at least, make it so that you can't be recognized."

When they leave the grounds, Asra sequesters the two of them away somewhere to disguise them privately. She sticks with a simpler look for herself, more akin to her Laurinel disguise, but in drab garb she'd noticed being worn in some of the more rundown locations they'd explored recently.

For Georg... well, like she said, she couldn't do much for his size, so she leaned into it. Giving him tight-looking clothes that had seen a seamstress many-times for new fitting, and a messy head of hair coupled with a shaggy beard and wild eyebrows. He looked like the kind of worker who'd settle down and eat half a side of beef for breakfast, the other half for lunch and consider snacking on the farmer for dinner.

With disguises in place, it was time to get to Tumbledown and find their friend.

[AftermathGM]

Tumbledown, before the Wards, was a district on the lower end of the middle class carved out of one of the steeper parts of West Island. The roads are indeed steep as Vensa suggested. There's a saying in Tumbledown that no matter which way you're walking, you're going to be walking uphill, which described both the geography and the difficulty of working one's way up the social and economic strata. In the time since, its fortunes have mirrored those of most of the rest of the city: rougher and turned down around the edges, a consistent thread of suspicion toward outsiders, and struggling to maintain a positive outlook.

The disguised Scholars find their way into the district mid-afternoon. In years gone past, much of this mostly residential district would have been quiet because its residents would largely be at jobs in other parts of the city. Today it's quiet because no one seems interested in talking to them. There's a temptation to chalk it up to the uneasy mood across the city as a result of the demonstrations outside the School, but regardless everyone they approach is wary and tight-lipped, unwilling to comment on whether they know or even have seen Ishan Veriti. Even though Asra only saw him clearly for a few minutes, he's distinct enough that she's confident she's describing him properly. No one is letting on that they recognize him, though, and they find themselves on the corner of one of the small commercial areas of the district uncertain of what to do next. The small grocer's shop nearby does a mild amount of business, a few residents picking over the scant offerings in the produce stall outside, a few more coming or going. On the other corners are a tailor's shop, a boarded-up storefront and a cafe that appears to currently be closed at the moment.

A heavy-shouldered man with shaggy black hair and a five-o'clock shadow leans a shoulder against the door of the boarded-up storefront, watching Georg and Asra with a cool blue-eyed stare. Two women, one bearing the angular ears of an elf and the other a human, sit at one of the sidewalk tables outside the cafe. The human woman appears to be of late middle age, with silver hair and a tanned, lined face, while the elf is unusually curvy for a member of their species, wide hips and a round face. They both occasionally steal glances at Georg and Asra. Behind them, a couple of customers chatter about the lack of options for fruits and vegetables and speculate on how long they'll be able to stretch the food they have. Neither one of them sounds particularly positive about those prospects.

[AftermathGM]

Right. So, the best outcome would be for Chavon to be apprehended by whoever comes to rescue Iana, but in case he gets away, setting a time and place for the Lady's next appearance can be a way to lure him back in so that they can catch him. So somewhere that has good sightlines and places for her friends to lie in wait, and with enough time to plan…

"Not the Mayor's Ball," she says, holding Chavon's gaze steadily in what she hopes is a display of honesty. For good measure, she widens her eyes a little, as if she were excited to be able to say, "Sooner than that. Much sooner. Two days from now. If my calculations hold, then the next appearance is going to be somewhere near water, and to the southwest of the previous one." There, that sounds suitably methodical and mysterious at the same time. "So the most logical conclusion would be that she will be near the fountain on Tokala Street."

"Tokala Street...?" Chavon says absently. He looks to the left at a point past Iana. "Whatever would she be doing on Tokala Street? Unless..."

Chavon starts to reach a hand out toward Iana, one finger lifted slightly to half-point at her. "Unless that's where the box is." Suddenly he claps his hands sharply. "That has to be it," he crows and stands up like an arrow fired from a bow and paces toward the door and back again. "You know..."

He folds his arms across his chest and fixes Iana with a narrow-eyed look. "There's room for a clever person such as yourself in my organization. The School is dying from the inside, Iana. The system is changing and there are going to be new people in charge soon. You're a bright woman, don't you want to be on the winning side? Be my consigliere?" His voice lowers in pitch, becomes richer. It's a pleasant voice, no question. It's not hard to speculate on why he would be successful as a crime boss. It's a voice a person wants to listen to. "You can walk out of here right now if you join me." Chavon walks a little closer, staying carefully just out of range of any possible physical attack despite the fact that Iana's confined. He crouches down, elbows on his knees and hands folded in front of him. It puts him roughly at eye level with Iana. "Come work for me and you can tell me everything you know. You'll be very well compensated."