Elandria, The Web of Destiny

Chapter 9 (Tinkerer)- Revelations in Blood.

As I step into the mayor's office, the weight of the scene settles on my shoulders. The sight of the severed hyena head on the desk is both grisly and mesmerizing, a grotesque display that speaks volumes about the darkness festering in Evercast. Though I'm not entirely disgusted or scared, there's an undeniable sense of unease gnawing at the edges of my mind. Peyt's impromptu addition of a flower to the macabre display elicits a soft chuckle from me, a brief respite from the tension that hangs thick in the air. "You always seem to find the beauty in the strangest of places." I remark, offering her a wry smile. Her irreverent gesture is a stark reminder of her unique perspective of the world, a refreshing contrast to the grim realities surrounding us. But even as I find myself momentarily amused, I can't shake the feeling that I'm so close to understanding what's going on here. Before I can dwell on it further however, Captain Mollison's entrance to the room breaks the spell, his somber expression reflecting the gravity of the situation.

"We need your help," he implores, his voice heavy with urgency. "The Horned Devil is still out there, and we can't afford to let him slip through our fingers. I don't want you guys to leave, but if you're not helping take care of this problem:" He points to the head on the desk. "Then I will have to do my job and expel you." His plea resonates within me slightly. Survivor breaks our silence: "Anyone NOT on board?" Tiamus looks as if he's about to walk out but Navirah places a hand on his shoulder and he slowly nods his head.

"Fine, but the pay better be worth it." He sighs. "First place I'm starting is the smithy, he sent us on a wild goose chase." I nod in agreement and speak to the rest of the group:
"I'll head with the love birds, do you guys want to spend some time talking around town to see if you can figure anything out?" Saemon and Survivor nod, we just kind of assume Peyt will get drug along wherever we go while she's distracted by flowers or something.

We split up. As we navigate the bustling streets of Evercast, my eyes catch sight of a painting adorning the side of a building. In it, a character vaguely resembling the mayor is depicted in a rather unflattering light, his features twisted into a sneer of disdain. "Looks like someone shares our discontent with the mayor." I comment dryly, nodding towards the painting. Tiamus grunts, his expression mostly unreadable. But regardless we press forward with our investigation towards the blacksmith. He wastes no time calling out for Aaron, but to our disappointment, there's no response, only the echo of his voice bouncing off the walls of the empty forge.

"Not home?" Navirah observes, her brow furrowed in mild frustration. Tiamus reflects it with his more sinister and stern face. We wait a few minutes, hoping that he might return while we are here, but it becomes apparent that he's not coming any time soon. With a resigned sigh, we reluctantly decide to head back to the tavern to regroup with the rest of the party. However, as we pass by Goldbeard Misc., Tiamus stops in his tracks, his gaze fixed on the shop's entrance with a hint of suspicion. "I want to check it out." he declares, his voice firm and determined.

I exchange a concerned glance with Navirah understanding the repercussions of us going against the mayor's wishes. Before we can voice our objections, Tiamus is already striding towards the shop, using a side alleyway to approach a rear door. "Tiamus, wait!" Navirah calls out, her tone urgent while we take a few steps in to follow him. "Let's at LEAST wait for the others, it's safer that way." Thankfully, he hesitates, his brow furrowed in frustration but ultimately acquiescing to reason. With a begrudging nod, he reluctantly agrees to wait for the rest of the group before proceeding any further, instead turning around back towards us. I can't help but feel a sense of relief, though still mingled with apprehension.

A feeling which suddenly deepens when movement in the shadows catches my eye. Emerging from the dimly lit alleyways and shadowy recesses of the alleyway,hooded figures materialize, ominous intent clouds the air mixing like chemistry with the stench of hygiene neglect. Their movements are sporadic and ticking yet sinister, shrouded in the darkness of tattered cloaks. Not good. In the shadowed alleyway, Navirah shines a bright light from her hand, flickering while we form a protective triangle together. The illumination displays a grim visage, each figure is caked in dirt and filth with unkempt hair which hangs in tangled strands. With makeshift robes, fashioned from tattered scraps of fabric, crudely fashioned from scavenged materials, their hands tremble with aggression. In their eyes burns a feral gleam, reflecting with primal instinct and atypical courage. In the light, streams of blood coming from their eyes reflect Navirah's light. Tiamus and I draw our weapons instinctively, his daggers plus my staff and shield to counter against their scrap armaments: a thick tree branch, a metal rod, a wooden plank with nails in the end, a guard's nightstick, and the femur of a large animal. A blood-curdling scream pierces the noon air, heralding the onset of violence and chaos as they charge.