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The Crew (Main)

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Chapter 1

The whole of Duskwall’s (Doskvol’s) newest gang, The Veiled Court, sits in rickety chairs around a weathered oak table. A single lantern flickers in the center of the table, playing shadows across the masoned walls of this cellar. As if the earthen stench and cobbled floor hadn’t already given underground locale away, water stains mark the stones in the walls.

Despite the current meeting, this cellar is used as storage for the tattoo parlor above. Even now, the misfits that make up the The Veiled Court can hear the buzz of the electroplasmic pens as artists ink patrons. It’s 1 p.m., the chosen meeting time and the busiest hour for the tattoo parlor, Den of Inkiquities. Outside, even now, Duskwall is dark, as always. The splinters of the shattered sun glow faintly in the black day sky.

Across the table from the ‘Court, a thin man in a rough tunic and heavy cloak rubs his shorn head. His face is plain and unremarkable, but his blue-gray eyes are piercing. Having asked through messenger to meet here, the ‘Court only know this man’s alias: Cross. Having confirmed Cross as an apothecary in the employ of the Dimmer Sisters, the ‘Court agreed to meet with him. But, in their investigation into Cross' background, The Veiled Court also learned of his scandalous reputation for exotic experiments on unwilling victims.

Cross clears his throat and puts his tricorn hat on the table. He plays with the edge of his hat with chemical-stained fingers. “Thank you for meeting. I asked you here on behalf of our mutual friends, The Dimmer Sisters. They have a job they need doing and they asked for you by name. I’ve been tasked as your handler for the job, should you accept. This job’s target is the Spirit Wardens. So, please understand the sensitivity of it. But, I must ask now before we go any further, is this something you’re interested in?”

The Spirit Wardens are a secret group who hunt rogue sprints, run the Bellweather Crematorium, and destroy the dead so they don’t turn into spirits. They are not officially part of Doskvol’s law enforcement. They serve the Emperor directly.

Teh Frixz Teh Frixz Seraph Darkfire Seraph Darkfire D. Rex D. Rex dae mec dae mec
 
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A cloud of smoke began to cough a dry sort of cough, the kind that only seemed to occur when someone decided to interject in a passive aggressive sort of way. Puffing away on a freshly loaded hookah, was the source of the cough. Wilhelmina Bithersee.

“Excuse me, but did you saw the Spirit Wardens? I’m of no concern regarding their content but I’ve thoughts on interfering with Imperial Agents, even on behalf of the lovely Sisters.”

She speaks openly, letting smoke roll from her mouth, her words shaping the cloud into a slew of amorphous shapes.

“Color me intrigued but I require more information to make a commitment of such magnitude. Comfortably. If everyone else here is willing to continue on, I’ll go along with it.”

She leans forward in the wing backed chair she’d hauled down the day previous just for this occasion, pointing at each one of her cohorts in turn. “What say you all?”
 
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[Location: Den of Inkiquities (Basement) ]
{Interactions: WlfSamurai WlfSamurai / Willie ( Teh Frixz Teh Frixz ) / The Skull ( D. Rex D. Rex ) / The Face ( dae mec dae mec )}

The golden masked figure was sitting at the table, his fingers steepled together as Cross informed them this newest potential job. There was a moment of silence as the figure looked towards their compatriots "I have no complaints with helping out the Sisters. They've aided us in the past." the voice was deep and masculine but unnaturally so. He waved his hand towards Cross "The Wardens deal in the spiritual side of the occult. Their items would make for an interesting study" he tapped his mask slightly for a moment "However, I also wish to express my reluctance to go afoul of the Emperor by interfering in the actions of his men. Should that happen, we'd find Doskvol a lot less welcoming than it already is."

Once more he looked at the others "On a more personal level however, we all wouldn't be here if we were determined to play it safe" the right amount of risk could pay off tremendously for them. Besides, underneath that mask was a man who really did feel indebted to the Dimmer Sisters. They'd helped out their little group when they wanted to get started, pointed them towards a nice little lair hidden away from prying eyes.

As the Golden One, he had to be all practical and not give anything away, to fit the image that his mask produced but underneath it was Myrke who just didn't want to disappoint the nice people that had helped him. He was also very interested in the kind of items the Wardens used for their own jobs. Spiritual magitech could enable them to do a whole host of good things for people. Spirits in general would be a lot of help because they could get into places where the average person couldn't.

So her very much wanted to know more about this job but he couldn't speak for the rest of the group though it already seemed like Wilhelmina was all for it. He liked Mina, she was nice enough and her interest in improving her own body nearly rivaled his interest in making magical technology more mainstream. There was some overlap in their aspects at certain times.​
 
Fully swarthed in cloth, the Face steepled "his" cloved hands. (Dressed like this, Ashani-as-Mukhum considered it necessary to change thoughts as well as actions.) The gold paint around his eyes glinted as he looked between his fellows.

"I agree. Willie and the Golden One both are correct that further knowledge is needed before commitment," he said, his voice low and mellow, the accent elongating and softening vowels. "I would also like to learn more. Though it has great risk, the rewards are promising."

The Spirit Wardens no doubt had powerful secrets, and Ashani always found it difficult to keep locked doors closed. But there was a difference between being curious and being stupid: that depended on the danger involved in the undertaking.
 
Cross nods. "Indeed. I understand. I have been given consent to share more if you understand how sensitive this information could be. And that you will not share it. If you decline the job, the Sisters will watch you, day and night, looking for any slip up. Until this job is complete, you will be expected to keep totally silence on the matter."

Having said his piece on the matter, Cross clears his throat and proceeds. "Recently, the Spirit Wardens raided one of the Sisters' storehouses. It had previously been thought to be a secret location, but clearly not secret enough. They took with them several items that are valuable to the Sisters. We know that these items are scheduled to be shipped out in two weeks for study and destruction. But, we don't know on which ship. And we don't know the exact time.

"We have acquired information about a Warden safe-house near the docks that is running the shipping operation. We need you to enter the safe-house, obtain this information, discreetly, and deliver it to me. Payment for the job will be 6 coin. Any questions?"

Teh Frixz Teh Frixz Seraph Darkfire Seraph Darkfire D. Rex D. Rex dae mec dae mec
 
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[Location: Den of Inkiquities (Basement) ]

"Is there any information on the safe-house? Security, guards, layout?" it was better to know these things going in but it wasn't paramount. Such information could be gathered on their own, but it was always preferable to get it from the person issuing the request. It would give them a better idea of how to get into and out of the building as well as an idea of what equipment to bring.

All in all, it was poor planning to go into a job with no prior preparation "I would also like to know what these items are that we will be retrieving. The wardens will most likely have a few other select items that we will be appropriating, partially to cover both ours and the sisters involvement." and partially for study, though he didn't say that part "Knowing what exactly we are meant to take will help us prioritize that first"
 
Cross clears his throat again. "Apologies. I had a long night last night. Let me be more clear. There are shipping manifests and schedules for Wardens' shipments of these stolen items. We need you to steal the manifests and schedules. The Sisters ask that you be discrete, but of course, if you manage to slip out with a few more prizes from the Wardens' safe house, that is none of our business." Cross smiles devilishly.

"Now, as to information. I will provide you with the location of the safe-house. But, part of the service we're paying you for is to put the job together—how to get in, your plan of escape, entrances, exits, etcetera. That is for you to figure out and execute on."

Teh Frixz Teh Frixz Seraph Darkfire Seraph Darkfire D. Rex D. Rex dae mec dae mec
 
"Very well," said Mukhum. "We accept this job." His golden gaze shifted across the room, settling on his fellow partners-in-crime, giving them a chance to agree or disagree. "Is there anything further you wish for us to know?"

He steeples his gloved fingers together and considers. This is a powerful opportunity: the information and items that they could spirit away from the Wardens (pun intended) could give them a leg up on all their competitors. And the wealth... promising. Promising indeed.
 
Cross' piercing eyes fixate on each of the group in turn. He pulls a thick vanilla envelope from his robes and slides it across the table. Once one of the group has taken the envelope, he shakes his head.

"Nothing more," he says. "It's all in there. My employers will be pleased with your decision. When you have completed the task, leave a message with Mistress Kember at The Devil’s Tooth for me on where to meet you. I look forward to seeing you all then.” At that, Cross stands up abruptly, nods, and heads to the stairs to leave.

Back at the The Veiled Court’s Grotto, the Court themselves open the envelope to find a sheet of paper that simply states the location of the Wardens’ safe-house. It does not escape the group how valuable it is to have information on any place the Wardens operate out of. They move locations often enough and work with such obfuscation that they haven’t been pinned down in any one location at any one time.

Until now.

The location on the paper states:
Corner of:​
Gray Street & Clove Lane,​
third floor,​
south east offices.​
 
The next day, The Veiled Court presses into action. After a typical morning at the Grotto, they split up to gather further information.

###​

Ashani enters The Diamond Note, a Tavern in Nightmarket she’s frequented many times before. She knows Klyra, the owner, well. Over several years, Klyra and Ashani have traded information for mutual gain or to help each other out. Through their time, they’ve bonded into a near-friendship.

When Ashani approaches the bar, Klyra gives her a sly smile. After exchanging pleasantries—and Klyra getting Ashani her usual—they head into the back storage room to chat, just like old times.

“Haven’t seen you in a bit,” Klyra says right away with a smile. She folds her arms and leans against a stack of casks. “Always good to see your face and that your’e still holding up. What brings you by this time?”
dae mec dae mec

###​

Across the northern canal in the Charterhall District, a few minutes ago, Myrke entered the The City Records and Archives offices on Clerk Street. Despite the office being open to the public, the place is crawling with Blue Coats today. Something must have happened recently as they’re typically not inside the building.

Myrke is upstairs in the City Structure & Building section, looking through the stacks for blueprints.
Seraph Darkfire Seraph Darkfire
 
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[Location: The City Records and Archives ]

Myrke gently scratched behind his ear as explored the stacks with a thoughtful expression on his face. He was dressed in his normal researcher's clothing, very simple plain clothing that he didn't mind getting dirty or covered in ink from paperwork. The Bluecoats being around was surprising but not necessarily problematic. He didn't have anything to hide and he was often seen doing various research on all sorts of buildings that happened to catch his attention.

"Docks...docks.." he mumbled to himself as he continued to look "Primarily a water based system, structure of the buildings is designed to be resistant to flood damage...possibly a system separate to the sewer systems? Could be..." he often talked to himself while he was working. He grabbed another stack of papers relevant to his search and pulled them over to the little table he'd appropriated for himself.

Blueprints weren't hard to find, but buildings had been renovated and redesigned over the many years and they either fell apart or exchanged owners that some of the blueprints were horribly out of date or just plain wrong. Not to mention that the organizational skills of the archives could have been better. Some things were arranged in architecture for coasts and some were organized into architecture for storage. It was beyond frustrating.​
 
"It's been too long," Ashani agrees. She mirrors Klyra's body language and leans back similarly. "Oh, you know, same old work. I thought I'd put some feelers out, and I don't know anyone who better knows the pulse of this old city." Ashani gives her a warm, amused smile. They're both familiar with this song and dance. "How are things in the city? More specifically, by the docks?"

Summers with her grandfather taught her to always start with general questions when seeking information. You never knew what people would tell you of their own volition--and you knew knew what your own questions would give away. (His rumbling, deep voice echoed in his mind: only fools showed all their cards.)
 
Myrke finds the blueprints for the building in question as he's searching through the public records of the area surrounding the building. Finding the right storage drawer, he flips through the stacked plans, looking at the labels in the bottom right of the page. Just as he finds them and begins pulling them out he notices a Bluecoat staring straight at him, approaching. Taking it as a sign, Myrke let's the page go and closes the drawer.

The patrolman passes without incident, but seems to be keeping a sharp eye on Myrke and Phineas.

(What do you do?)
Seraph Darkfire Seraph Darkfire D. Rex D. Rex
 
Klyra takes a seat on a barrel and shrugs. "Little of this, little of that. The docks? Huh, yeah there's some stuff going down. I might know a coupla things. What's it worth to you?"

dae mec dae mec
 
"Depends on how much information you have." Again, Ashanti mirrors her, also taking a seat. "We can do our usual terms. Is there anything you want to know? Anything you want me to find out?" She keeps her voice light and casual, not quite bored, but definitely routine.
 
Klyra smiles. "I like you," she says to Ashanti. "Like a lot. I like that you come in here. So, tell you what. How about you owe me a favor. Something I can ask you for in the future. Maybe when I'm in a bind. You can't turn me down. That and maybe bring a few of your friends in to drink or eat so I get business out of it. You give me your word on those two things and I'll spill what I have for you. Sound good?"

dae mec dae mec
 
"I like you too, dear," Ashanti says, smiling back. "A reasonable favor and incentive to show my friends a good place to drink in return for good information. The terms sound fine to me. You have my word."

She props her chin on her hand, the picture of attentiveness, and waits.
 
Klyra nods and sits forward with an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "Great. Okay, so, what I've heard is that there's a bunch of activity on the docks. More than usual. Heavy Bluecoat patrols, for one—well into the night and early hours. But, also, a lot of groups snooping around the warehouses and dock buildings. The Dimmer Sisters' people were mentioned a few times taking great interest in the area. But, the big juicy thing is that there's an unmarked ship coming in Friday night and someone's paid a lot of people off to either not be there or look the other way."

Klyra shrugs. "That's all I got. Hope it was worth it." She winks.

It's Monday giving Ashanti and the crew just four days before this ship's supposed arrival.
 
"It's always worth it, my friend," Ashanti says with a sly grin. "Now, I don't suppose you have any drinks in this fine establishment that I could enjoy before I head into the cold, dark outside world?"

Though she keeps her posture languid and her expression easy, Ashanti's mind whirs in a decidedly hurried fashion. Four days is a tight schedule, if that's indeed the ship that will carry the Sisters' objects.

Heavy patrols, too... well, they've accomplished more with less. She'll have to go back and let the other know so that they can plan.
 

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