Cloaks

Chapter 3: Well, Well, Well

As soon as the sun rose, the party slipped out of the sanctuary, down to the streets of Whispenshire.

"I want to do some shopping," Ruby said. "I'm itching to cook something more satisfying than these daily rations."

"Shopping–good idea," Malakos replied. "We'll ask the shopkeeps if they know anything. You and Deruque check the market. I'll take Bardy and we'll check the textile shop over there–if anyone has a lead about people wearing red cloaks, it'll be them."

The team split up and approached their respective targets. Ruby spent the morning loading up on various ingredients, Deruque in tow. With more grocers in the area than textile shops, they found themselves covering a lot of ground, but gleaning no new leads. Malakos and Bardy had no better luck with the textile shops–they were given much the same response as the priest had given them the night before: red wasn't a popular color due to its price, and there hadn't been any sales of red clothing for years.

"So," Malakos said, absently fingering a shirt on one of the racks. "Nobody here wears red. What about cloaks? Anyone into cloaks around here?"

"Oh, cloaks, yeah–" the shopkeep said. "You do sometimes see some folks late at night, running around in cloaks. Don't know what color they are–it's pretty dark after midnight."

The tiefling did his best to hide his excitement. "That's kind of weird," he said conversationally. "What are they doing, that late at night?"

The shopkeep shrugged. "How should I know?" he asked. "They keep to themselves, so most of us do the same. Now are you going to buy something, or not?"

The shopkeeper didn't appear to know anything else–or if he did, he wasn't willing to share. So they bought something small and left.

"So they are here," Malakos said. "But only late at night. When Deruque and Ruby get back, we'll plan a stakeout."

"Sounds great," Bardy said, pulling out his lute. "Meanwhile, I think I'll pass the time with a little music. Maybe I can get those kids over there to tell us more. Kids are tiny wellsprings of information."

"Oh, good idea. Meanwhile, I'm going to go do some thinking over there," Malakos indicated a dark alley next to them. At the look Bardy gave him, he said, "I'm overdue a brooding session–I'll lose tiefling cred if I miss too many."

"Whatever," Bardy rolled his eyes as he sat on a rock and started playing.

In reality, Malakos wanted to put some distance between himself and the bard. The rest of the party hadn't noticed it, but he had seen the way the people of the town startled when they saw his face, how the children ducked behind their parents or even turned and ran in the other direction when he passed. To their credit, the people here were more subtle about their aversions than in most places he went; but it was clear that he should not be the one approaching people for information.

He glanced over at the bard–already, four children had gathered around to hear the music. They were bouncing on their feet, laughing with each other.

The tiefling shook his head to clear his mind and turned his thoughts to the task at hand. The Red Cloaks were here. They did their work late at night. But where were they coming from? Were they citizens of the town, living double lives? But then, where would they be keeping the princess? Keeping her in their own houses or shops would be an idiotic move–they had to have some sort of meetingplace. He glanced again at the children. There were seven of them, now.

"So," Bardy said casually, as he tweaked his lute pegs between songs. "I'm always looking for new things to sing about. Any of you seen anything straaaange and mysssteriousss around here?" He strummed his lute.