"Judgment": A Dishonored Fanfic

Chapter 8

   "So now to the docks, yeah?" Samuel asked as he piloted the boat back onto open water and away from the pub.
   "That's right." Corvo nodded. "Thanks for this."
   "It's actually rather fortuitous. I've been meaning to give this old girl a bit of a spring-clean, and I like to banter with the fishermen on the regular. So, that's where I'll be."
   "They don't seem like the bantering sort." Daud critiqued. "More than half look like they'd split you from nose to toe if you so much as breathe on 'em."
Samuel smiled. "Looks ain't everything, lad. Fishermen are some of the land's most avid servants, you know that?"
   "I'm sure they are, they do have quotas, after all."
   "They also like to fish. That's important, when doin' a backbreaking job such as that. No point otherwise. No matter how much coin you make, sooner or later a man'll rather saw his own head off than spend day after day at a job he hates."
   "True enough." Daud smiled at him.

He dropped them off at the far end of the dock area, then took his boat further down to locate a space in which to do his cleaning and bantering.
   "So how are we gonna do this?" Daud asked as he watched the clam-gatherers strip their latest batch.
   "We'll need to split up." Corvo told him. "We can cover more ground faster, and we won't be as intimidating to them. Two castle folk asking questions would make anyone shy to talk."
   "You're not wrong. Alright then, Bounty at just before seven?"
   "That's the plan." Corvo nodded.
   "See you later." Daud set off, ignoring the people nearest to him as Corvo would be tackling those, and instead concentrating his search on the furthest half of the area.
Corvo milled around the boards where he was, looking to see if there was anyone who looked like they might fancy a chat.
   "'Scuse me, can you move your feet a ways?"
Corvo turned round to see that the board-scrubbing person who'd been close-by was now looking to scrub the boards he stood on.
   "Of course. Sorry." Corvo switched to another area.
He watched for a moment, then went back to talk to him.
Might as well start there, he figured.
   "Excuse me," Corvo asked the frantically-brushing man, "I'm looking for some information. Any idea on who I could ask?"
   "Depends." The ginger-haired man puffed.
   "...on what?"
   "What sort of mood they's in."
   "How will I know that?"
   "You'd have to ask." Came the slightly-infuriating reply. "See, if they've had a good day, they'll be more than up for a chinwag. But if they aven't...you'll need to watch your p's and q's a lot."
   "Ah. I'm looking for someone, you see."
   "I'm not one of 'em, before you go on." The scrubber dipped his brush into his pail of sea water, lifted it out and carried on scrubbing at the same fast pace. "This is too important a job for me to stop an' bunk off to all and sundry, sorry fer that."
   "It's quite alright, you've been most helpful. Thanks." Corvo decided to leave him alone. Didn't look like the man had more to impart anyway, but at least he'd given an indication of how daunting this task might be.
Instead, he moved towards some of the clam fishers, first targeting the ones who'd got a large batch to strip. Tedious work, but such people were definitely able to talk while doing it.

...it turned out that none of the clammers were after a chat. Every one of them was standoffish in manner, not even looking at him with the few words they'd said. Corvo didn't exactly want to push anybody either; no matter what their chosen fish, all people in that craft carried some sort of knife and usually a cudgel too.
Used on fish, of course, but it wasn't worth risking a fight.
He gave up on the clammers and wandered around the boards for a few minutes, looking for who he could try next. He wanted to leave a short amount of time between each asking that he tried, thinking that it would help refute suspicion in them en masse.
People tended to gossip, and word of him asking all and sundry straight away wouldn't help his cause.
His next target was a middle-aged woman who was cleaning up small chunks of whale bone near one of the pier ends. She was humming to herself, scrubbing each off-white piece with what looked like a coarse horse brush, then switched to an old toothbrush, then finally to a dusting cloth. Very thorough.
   "Excuse me, can I ask you something?" Corvo ventured.
She looked up, then back down, then did a double take and stared at his clothes. "What?" She asked abruptly.
   "Sorry, I'm looking for someone and was just wondering if you'd seen him around at all."
   "I just been starin' at whale bone for the past couple hours." She said as she went back to cleaning. "Not many come by this way."
   "You're here, though."
   "That's why I'm here. Some days I just like to come out, see what bones I can get, then keep myself to myself while I gets 'em lookin' nice. Good view of the sea, too. Boats also, when they come back in with their catch."
   "Sounds like a good idea."
   "If you're lookin' for someone, you should probly try further up near the whalers themselves. That's where most folks are, at this time o' day. Down these parts, you only find people who want peace and quiet."
He smiled. "Thanks, I'll try that then."
Okay, so the ends of the piers didn't look too clever.
He moved further up and soon became immersed in dock life. Many people viewed him with blatant suspicion, and that was understandable, dressed in finery from the castle as he was.
Surely, there was at least one person who'd seen him?