Dishonored: The Ties That Bind

Chapter 8

   "Olden."
The red-haired man whirled around to see Elaine standing there. "Oh- hello." He smiled. "Somethin' I can do for ya?"
   "Can we talk? Need to run some things by you."
   "Sure, I'm not doing much right now." He followed her towards the gallery, where he saw a black pouch on the table, and took a seat on the couch near her. "What's up?"
   "Well, Corvo said that I should stay in your ear while all this is going on. Help me to get information and such. Right now, we need all the answers we can get."
   "That's true, yeah. I've nothin' to report as yet, and the guards haven't got back from town so-"
   "I've...got something else in mind." She interrupted him.
He paused. "Okay, well, that's good. What have you got?"
   "Before I begin, can you promise that you'll hear me out first, before chewing my ear off?"
A feeling of dread started to creep in, and his gaze became faintly suspicious. "...what have you done?"
   "Gotten us more clues to look at." She opened the pouch, and put the contents onto the table.
He stared at them, then started to examine the bits of paper.

He then looked at her. "Where did you get these?"
   "Does it matter? I just need some second opinions, that's all."
   "I'm gettin' a feeling that it does matter. Where did you get these things? What aren't you telling me?"
   "I just went for a walk."
Olden thought for a few seconds. "Did this walk just happen to go near a certain person we spoke of yesterday? Did it?"
   "Okay, yes. It did. But, I wasn't caught."
   "Oh fucking hell." Olden shook his head disapprovingly. "What the blazes were you thinking, lass? What if you'd been seen?"
   "I haven't been." She said matter-of-factly. "I'm quite decent at undercover work. I learnt from the best, after all." Okay, that wasn't exactly true, but it would help to placate Olden.
   "Don't do any more." He said with a tinge of crossness in his voice. "We can't go taking risks, or making any either."
   "Oh, so what am I supposed to do- sit here like a fucking idiot while everyone around me goes missing? Or maybe do some knitting, or cross-stitch, like every other woman here?" She then realised what she'd said, and felt horrible for it. "Sorry," she instantly added, briefly holding one hand up, "sorry, I just..."

She then let out a sigh. "I'm sick of it, Olden. We need to do something, before we get attacked again. Who else have we got?"
   "...nobody." He said quietly.
   "Precisely. I can't just let everyone suffer, so I went out and got some more results. I wasn't seen, unless you maybe count the odd rat, and hopefully we can do something with this. You're probably disappointed and all that, but me? I've done something- and I'll do even more if that's what it takes to get shit moving."
He stared at her, then finally nodded.
   "You've got bigger balls than I do." He said with a smile.
She shook her head. "I haven't; I was terrified the whole time. I know when my luck's being stretched, though, so I didn't overstay my welcome there. Just hope that it was worth it."
   "Have you told Corvo all this yet?"
   "Can you imagine his reaction if I do?"
Olden frowned, then swallowed. "I sure can. He wouldn't like it much at all. Why, he'd..." He paused again.
   "That's why I haven't. Yet. I'm not sure if I'd tell him right now, to be honest. I've never kept anything from him before, but if he's going to recover quickly, him knowing might be a bad idea."
   "I know you're frustrated an' all, every one of us is. But keepin' him in the dark with this could cause problems between you."
   "There'll be a better time to tell him, is all I'm saying."
   "I spose it might depend on what your next steps will be."
   "And that, depends on what we make of all this stuff." She said, nodding towards the small pile of unassuming loot.
   "Let's take a look then. Worth a go."

They both pored over the findings, speculating as to what they could possibly be and what it all meant.
   "I'm not from here, as you know," Olden first said, "so I've got fuck all idea of what a trimble is. Leave that for now. However, knowin' that the Hatters gang are involved is definitely a step in the right direction. No matter how little, they know stuff."
   "I thought so too. That looks to be a list of names...maybe some of her contacts within the group."
   "I'd say so, aye. Maybe she was gonna meet them?"
   "Unknown, there's no time or place there. Just that odd sentence at the bottom about leaves."
   "Yeah. Right confusin', that is. It's got to be related though, or she wouldn't have written it there." He scratched his head. "Might have to leave that one, too. And then, there's this rag you've found...where was it again?"
   "In her bathroom, on top of a counter."
   "Strange."
   "What's really strange, is that there's absolutely nothing in her house that's any shade of green apart from herself."
   "...not even a plant?"
   "Nope. No greenery in sight. Probably hates plants. So I'm wondering where that stuff came from. It looked like paint at first, but when I looked at it this morning in proper light, it's more like some kind of ink."
   "Yeah. If it were a big blob of paint, it wouldn't look like this. It's weak, watery stuff, soaked right into the cloth."
   "I'm wondering about that textile mill. That company was made bankrupt years ago, so it's not an actual business as such. It's just there. Surprised it's not been torn down, actually."
   "Probly not thought of it, what with the plague last year."
   "That building far predates the plague. I asked a couple of the guards, and that old thing's been like that for at least a good few years. Someone owns the land, so they must be the ones who've not torn it down yet."