Play of Shadows

3.11: Fool Me Once

Footsteps rang in the dark, even and unhurried.

The streets were deserted. A lone figure emerged from an alley, lumbering toward some unknown destination. The pavement rang dully under the man's feet. Click-clack. Click-clack.

The man stopped at a corner. The pedestrian signal blinked red above his head, illuminating a police uniform and a face that was not a face. There was no traffic, but the man waited for the light to turn nonetheless.

Six shadows slipped into the light. They surrounded the man quickly, heading off all routes of escape.

"It's an NPC," Vernon grunted.

Ann waved her hand in front of the officer's face. The NPC did not react, blankly facing forward. "I don't think he'll be of much help," she said.

"Did anyone see where he came from?" Frances asked.

No one spoke up. Vernon snorted coldly.

"If only walking wasn't such a difficult task for some of us," he drawled, tone unfriendly.

Sasha immediately puffed up. "I didn't twist my ankle on purpose!" she hissed.

"Could've fooled me!" Vernon snapped back.

The woman in red was the players' only link to the man they sought. The players had no true knowledge of the NPC's purpose or the dangers they could encounter following its lead. The decision to trail the NPC was a gamble, born out of desperation and the pressing weight of time.

Their journey through the city proved more difficult than expected. The night was deep at the outskirts of town and the NPC moved fast, always no more than a fleeting shadow. The woman's encounter with another NPC was a lucky break. The dup slowed down just enough for the group to catch up and potentially discern the direction of their journey when Sasha, somehow having ended up in the lead, stumbled over something in the pitch-black alley they players were navigating and went down, taking the others with her like a row of especially unhappy dominos. By the time the players got themselves sorted out, the woman in red and her uniformed guide were long gone.

The light turned green. The NPC officer strode forward, uncaring about his motley entourage. Vernon and Sasha squabbled quietly in the back. Lieutenant Arendse's no-nonsense mediation soon urged them into petulant silence.

Michael shared a look with Frances. The two moved so as to flank the NPC, and Michael stepped into the NPC's path.

"Excuse me, officer. I have something to report," he said.

The NPC halted so suddenly Ann, who had been walking right behind him, slammed head-first into his back. She winced, the sound muffled. Vernon let out a snort.

The NPC swayed in place. His face rippled like the sails of a ship billowing in the wind. Slowly, the officer turned toward Michael, his bulging face riddled with shadows.

Michael tensed under the unnerving attention. Still, he kept his voice steady and spoke seriously as he said, "My friend is lost. Have you seen her? She wears a white mask and red clothes."

The NPC shuddered again. The shiver passed over the officer's avatar like an earthquake, shaking every pixel on the way down. He moved stiffly and failed to raise his arm twice over before he managed to point to a certain street.

"Down that way? Straight down?" Michael asked.

The NPC hesitated, then jerked his head to the right.

Frances clapped the man's shoulder. "Down, then right. Thanks," he said, then took after their new clue with all the enthusiasm of his Hound moniker. The beach towel he had picked up and repurposed to cover his ripped suit waved in his wake like a very strange, very fluffy cape.