The Enclave of the Blue Pearl

Soren's House

When a group of people are sneaking along back roads such as they were, it could not help but be awkward. If someone did see them and tried to tell someone else, he might think he was telling a joke, the image of a girl, a sailor carrying an unconscious boy, two ex-soldiers, one now dressed like a gentleman, and three ruffians reluctantly staggering almost at gunpoint, was so absurd.

After sneaking in this manner for a few minutes, they arrived at Soren's house. One or two people might have seen them, though there was nothing to be done about that. The only alternative would have been to go to the police station, and that was apparently out of the question.

"Alright, here we are." Soren led them up to the front door of a modest and unassuming townhouse crammed inconspicuously right between two other buildings. "Come along." He walked up to the door, unlocked it, and led them in. "Would anyone like some tea?" The foreroom into which they followed him was tidy, and predominantly decorated with white, making it appear larger than it was. To the right, a staircase lead to a second floor. The center of the room was occupied by a high backed chair and a couch facing a low table on which rested a stack of books, and a map of the Empire hung on a wall. There were a number of curos -a spyglass, a puzzle made of interlocking steel links, a flute- on the mantle over the fireplace, adding a curious tone to match the owner's own curious mind. On the counter that divided the sitting room from the kitchen sat a porcelain tea set, adding a hint of charm.

"It's not much, but it's, um... Set Katoa down here." Soren gestured to the couch, and Robert nodded and set the boy down with a gentle "fwump." Ame sat next to him and examined his head. "There's a basement there," Soren told Robert and Rudolf. "Lead the prisoners in there; we can deal with them later." He opened the door and the prisoners meekly obeyed. Soren followed in and struck a match. He lit several candles in fixtures on the wall revealing the basement to be small and bare. A few drops of blood had dripped on the living room floor from the other man's shot leg and from the cut in Rudolf's arm.

"Robert, stay here and keep an eye on them," Soren instructed. Robert answered with his usual "Aye."

On the couch, Katoa was waking, groaning, and Ame was gently touching his head. "Hey Kat, can you hear me? What were we just doing? Were we sleeping, walking, what?"

"Walking?" he said guessing the answer. "It was dark..."

"Alright, do you feel any nausea?"

"I feel like I've been turned inside out."

"How's your vision?"

"Everything's blurry," he moaned. "This is worse than a Saturday morning hangover."

Ame sighed and reached into her bag. "You've got a bad concussion, Kat. You need to rest for a while." She fished a small jar out. "Here, suck on this and rest." She picked out small black lozenge which she deftly placed in his mouth. As he sucked on it, he closed his eyes and his muscles relaxed.

Ame turned to Soren and Rudolf as the came back out of the basement. "Rudy, you're next. Come over here, let me help you."

"So... Would anyone like some tea?" Soren stood by the door to the kitchen. They both accepted. "Right." He nodded and left the room. Ame called quickly after him. "Hey, can I borrow some alcohol, Soren?" He looked back at her, momentarily confused.

"To clean Rudy's wound."

"Ah, right. Yes, I'll get you some." He nodded and went back through the door.

Ame pulled out bandages from her bag and a small vial of blue liquid, holding Rudolf's strong arm in her smaller hands. Katoa was now gently sleeping again next to them.