Cats, Dolls, Bandits and Questions

Ox-Strength Tavern, evening

Carver sits in the corner, with her hood drawn up, smoking from a pipe.

That when she exhales turns out to just be a strange toy she found at market, bubbles blowing out in ephemeral lives, existing and then no longer as their delicate structure POPS with musical notes. She turns the wooden device over in her scratched and dirty hands with a shadowy smirk. Two cups sit before her and what looks to be a half finished wooden horse she is hand whittling. The Mad Ox itself is full today.

Korrite pilgrims gather for arm wrestling in one corner watched carefully by a quartet of off-duty watchmen wary for trouble as snow piles on everyone, and tempers rise to replace dropping temperatures. Wenches hustle between the larger parties and smaller ones, dancing to their own tune, echoed by a pair of bards wailing away on their instruments in this smoky parlor. This is not the realm of lowlife, but it is the seed of the earth. Hard working, simple, and honest in its dishonesty.

Of course, that's when the door opens to admit someone who fits in about as well as a ne'er-do-well in the noble district. Which is to say: not at all. The long-limbed golem is not one of those rare constructs seeking to emulate living creatures. Far from it. The gangling frame bears a heavy breastplate engraved with the scales of Vardama, and the shoulders are festooned with a half-dozen prayer-strips on each. A dozen simple scarab charms hang around its neck, and it bears the heavy sacred khopesh at its waist.

But this time, it does not wear the plague-doctor mask. Its white-jade features are visible, the eyes lit with a lambent yellow glow as the Executor's stern gaze sweeps the room, before falling on Carver. Without a word, Khepri walks towards the ranger, metal-shod feet sounding on the floor.

Khepri stands out. Some of the Korrite pilgrims lean forward to get a better look as they stomp across the Ox, and even some of the Watchmen adjust uncomfortably. Strange people bring strange troubles, their existence alone welcoming conflict.

Carver spots him a second later, giving a wave, which only serves to disperse some of the tobacco smoke and the last of her music bubbles. "How'd you know't me?" She has a hood on, a purposefully and tasteful disguise. Nevermind the rest of her adventuring accoutrements being easily recognizable. "Anywho, take a seat. Wanted to touch base with you about the horse-drowning asshole."

Smoothly, the golem takes a seat opposite Carver, the bench supporting its lanky form without complaint. "You are not that unrecognizable," Khepri states calmly. "But I do not think you truly wished to be unseen. Merely... unremarked upon."

A server nervously approaches, only to be cut off in mid-spiel by Khepri. "Depart. The Ox will be compensated." As the server backs off, the golem turns its attention fully to Carver and her words.

"Cerberus is confined in the Arcanist's Prison. He cannot escape. He has been questioned by myself and others, and some answers have come to light."

"Scary," Carver teases as she tosses back her hood as Khepri 'dimisses' one of the servers. "All a yous strange walking armors are though, I guess." She takes her cup and drinks from it, and this at least, is no toy. She has a fondness for the rich northern beer and its foam is wiped off her lips with a satisfied sigh. "So that's where he is, hope he likes it. I suppose you've talked to him? Find out anythin' of use you can share?"

The ranger leans back into her chair, tossing an arm over the rest, perfectly at ease in the incredibly uncomfortable slouching posture.

Khepri seems unfazed by the comment. "We are not strange. We are very simple creatures." However, this isn't the place for an extended discussion on wargolem life. Instead, Khepri considers the question.

"Yes. Cerberus was hired by what he believes to be one or more fey nobles who wanted him to delay the shipment Lord Ahu had commissioned." The golem pauses. "A consignment of strawberries and chocolate." Clearly, Khepri does not grasp the point.

"As to what motivated Cerberus, he is half-fey and sought passage to Quelynos -- and of course, coin. I would like to note that someone knew -exactly- where Lord Ahu's shipment was going to be -- which suggests this goes deeper than mere banditry."

"What, it's just some dumb petty dispute? That doesn't make any sense t'all." Carver scoffs. "Not that I don't know fey creatures to be dumb and petty, but there's almost always weird layers to why they do the dumb and petty things. Like stinky onions with plans, innit?" Carver reaches for her little wooden horse, turning it over in her hands as she thinks. "I don't get it. Timing stinks too. Righ' when the dolls started showing up in Alexandros, alongside some freaky whip devil guy ringleadin' that? That's not devil ploy. That's Fey. They like that kinda thing don't they? Elaborate plays and misdirection. Even got a half-fey pawn to play the part. Know anything 'bout this Lord Ahu?"

The golem's posture is rigid, lacking in emotion, but there's still a sense of frustration coming off it as it shakes its head. "No. The Alexandrian nobility is jealous of their privacy and will not accede to casual inquiries. I have filed a request through the temple, but it will take time."

Khepri rests its hands on the tabletop, almost unnaturally still. "Your point about fey is not without merit. However, my experience with fey has been..." The inquisitor pauses, before continuing, "Unpleasant. One attempted to steal my identity as part of some greater scheme."

"Exactly! That's the point, innit? They do petty things but there's usually a reason to it. Yeah, obviously, some might just be prone to chaos for its own sake, but nobles? Powerful creatures? No." She taps the doll to her temple, straining her memory. "Okay, so the horse-drowning asshole was just a patsy between real players and somebody definitely feeding information over."

Think, think, tap, tap. "What about that guy who hired us. Nasir? I think't was? He'd be in a position to feed information to opposing forces, an' he's always the middleman for this 'Lord Ahu'."

Khepri tilts its head quizzically, considering. "He would be. But what does it gain him? Of course, one cannot speculate on an unknown motive. And there are ways of tracing such leaks." The golem would frown, if its face was made for such.

"Indeed, it seems Cerberus was a tool. We must find the hand that guided him. However, I do not possess the necessary influence to force the issue with a noble or his staff."

Carver spreads her hands, the dirt on her nails and the bow-roughened palms suggesting what she does not say. Uncertain that she has the means to force any movement of a powerful noble either, as common as the dirt as she is. Skill and horsemanship can only take you so far.

She lays her palms back on the table as the bards pick up another song, about an old fool and his goat. "Well, I have zero leads. We did find part of the bandit troupe that was involved with the dolls. At the time, he was wrenched by cold and blood loss, but I wander if these two entities are connected. This, uh, Neverein we killed and horse drowning asshole." She lifts her left hand clocks off ticks. "I think the only two connections we wot have are Danya, the HDA, and Nasir. I don't know how else or even where else to look."

The pale, blank countenance regards Carver. "I shall continue making inquiries," Khepri responds. "However, it may be in our best interest to seek additional help. If you know anyone who might have more experience in these matters, I implore you to enlist their help."

The golem rests its chin on one hand, the posture looking vaguely disturbing -- like a mannequin's pose. "I am unfamiliar with this Danya or the HDA. Please explain further."

"Danya is the name of the surviving bandits, at the doll's 'theft'. Righ' before the snows started." Carver says. "HDA is just horse drowning asshole, but I'm gettin' tired of sayin' the whole thing." An' she isn't going to humanize him with giving a full name. At the mention of someone with more experience, she again shrugs. "Sorry to disappoint. Don't even know who that woul' be. I'll ask around to what friends I got though."

Khepri tilts its head. "Where is this Danya now? Imprisoned?" The inquisitor considers for a moment. "There are unusual currents here. The animated dolls, this Lord Ahu's unusual shipments drawing fey ire. All very strange."

The golem looks at Carver. "If Cerberus's information bears fruit regarding fey involvement, he may well be sentenced to exile, under pain of death. However, this may be much larger than an idiot half-breed with what my instructors called 'daddy issues'."

"That's what I'm saying," Carver reestablishes. "Devil don't blanket in snow, right? They don't use pretend plots with cute little dolls. Okay, dumb idiot daddy issue horse drowning assholes getting used? They do that but the rest doesn't read like their portfolio. It reads like some fairy queen crap playing elaborate jokes. Danya is in jail, yeah. I'm fairly sure you can get access to him if you want to follow up with any questions. He's a dumb tool too. Just a musclehead who followed someone dumb enough to take jobs from someone giving them jobs through frickin' dreams, but somebody handles a tool enough, and they might forget to scrub it clean."

Khepri tilts its head again, absorbing Carver's colorful analysis. "There is merit in that summation," the golem replies. "Perhaps Cerberus can be... persuaded to give details on how he would contact his sponsors. He mentioned a stone circle, and a word used to call them. Which could be duplicated by other magicians, but might be worth investigating."

This line of thought shakes something loose, and Khepri looks at Carver. "Which reminds me. Cerberus mentioned a... cat? He had encountered before they attacked the shipment. I am uncertain if it is of import."

"There was a cat at the job too." Carver says. "When we got there, 'member? All a yous were marchin' forward an' was he got closer, it meowed. Gave us away. Meowed and strutted away all proud, meant we coul' not sneak up on'm." She frowns. "I dunno, I wish I had a good head for figurin' out connections like I do a forest trail, cause this is all windy and like doubles back on't self like dozens of time."

"Nasir is also the one that put us on the job that led to Cerberus being captured. To escort a wagon and leave it to be picked up by someone else... and a black cat, a frickin' black one was with Nasir when we turned in the job."

Khepri stops moving entirely. The golem's yellow eyes meeting Carver's. "The cat Cerberus spoke of was black." The unmoving face belies the tension in the golem's words. "Something is very wrong. I do not know if I am correct. But it is clear this is far, far more than it appears."

The Executor considers, before it continues, "I wish for you to come to the Temple of Vardama. A temporary visit -- I would ask for you to give a deposition. It may well be that Nasir, or even Lord Ahu, are directly involved with the fey."

Carver waves her ascent, brow furrowed. "Yeah, in the mornin'. No problem." She stares into her mug of beer, no doubt scratching at the empty halls of her little brain for every connecting dot to black cats and golden eyes.

Khepri inclines its head. "The morning will be acceptable. I do not wish to delay. I seek the truth in this matter -- not just the how, but the why. It is not appropriate for mortals to be the playthings of the fey."

A smooth motion, and the golem rises to its feet. Deliberately, it places a gold coin where it sat. "Until the morning then. The blessing of the Harpist be with you."

"I'll settle for my beer, thanks. Cya in god's lil' house tomorrow." Carver grumbles, slowly sliding the gold coin into her hand. She bites it, cause that's what you do when anyone presents such a token. Just to make sure.