Rake - Downtime / Freeplay

Read Episode 1 before the following posts.

The Phantom's Well had seen better days. The old steamship was missing a few sails and patches of rust weren't uncommon. Nevertheless, her crew had managed to make it into a home. Though her engine still ran on coal, they had installed a small electroplasmic generator to provide lighting and heating. They had enough space for each scoundrel to have their own room. They even had enough free rooms to accommodate a handful of other scoundrels, if the crew ever expanded. Down the hall from their quarters was a large common room and a small kitchen. The furnishings, however, were scarce. The Backwater Phantoms were a small, poor crew, and had yet to earn enough to fill their lust for comfort. At the end of almost every day, the smugglers would sit together in the common room, plotting and planning their rise to power and wealth.

A few days after their first big score, the three scoundrels are doing just that, hunched over maps and scribbled notes.

"The Gondoliers really have it in for us now and that's going to be a problem," says Marius, thoughtful. "I think I may have an idea of how we could avoid them, but I'm going to have to look into it a bit more and see if it's possible."

At the end of their meeting, he stands. "I'm going to start tomorrow. And before you say anything, Ash, I think it's best I go alone. You won't like who I'm planning to ask for help."

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Marius had spent the better part of a day walking through Silkshore, looking for a quiet place to do his dirty deeds. At last, he had found a dead end, devoid of any drunks, prostitutes, or thugs.

After putting on his spirit mask, he concentrated. Electrical current was a predictable thing, always travelling from negative to positive polarities through the easiest path available. Spirit energies were much the same, and a trained Whisper could alter the ghost field's polarity around themselves, drawing nearby spirits to themselves or pushing them away. Marius felt the familiar "spark" of the ghost field around him and changed the polarity to positive. It didn't take long for him to have company.

The ghost was like a bluish silhouette, like someone seen through a foggy window. It was standing close-by, just beyond arm's reach.

"Hello, friend. I am looking for something and you will help me," said Marius, his eyes shining with blue light as he focused the spirit energies to compel the ghost. "Tell me, do you know of some untrodden paths free from prying eyes?"

A spindly form seems to materialize in front of you. As bluish-white glimmers of light seem to form the silhouette of a person. As more and more detail of their former appearance comes into focus, you can tell they look famished, unwell. Lesions cover their face.

Perhaps they were addicted to a terrible drug or malnourished when they passed...

Whatever the case, they look irritated to be disturbed and turn on Marius to confront him.

"Friend? Who you callin' friend?" He gets uncomfortably close to Marius. "Sod off, whisper." They seem to wisp away into the darkness again. A bit trash blows lazily across the street with the cool evening breeze.

Although Marius has certainly has had worse experiences with spirits, the exchange was still rather unpleasant. He'll have to hope that the next spirit he questions is more cooperative.

EPISODE 2

After spending days wandering Silkshore and talking to uncooperative, ignorant, or downright insane spirits, Marius was growing frustrated. It was becoming a chore. Training with Ash had helped, but he really needed a win. Something exciting, something that wasn't just routine. He needed a score.

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Coalridge was a loud place, stinking of sweat, coal, and dust. The factories ran non-stop, the streets filling with workers at shift changes as they moved from their rundown, overcrowded tenements to their smoke-belching workplaces. A handful of commercial spaces catered to the laborers' needs, mostly bars and food counters.

Down an alley, echoing with the sound distant sound of machinery, was one business very familiar to Marius: Traven's smoke shop. On the ground floor, it seemed a normal commerce selling smoking herbs and mushrooms of all kinds. In the basement, however, you could more exotic product. Marius was a regular, but this place meant more to him than a simple place to let off some steam. You see, this is where he'd met Nyryx, the love of his life. It was also where she'd died.

She still came by sometimes, pulling the strings of a new body, or just hovering around. Marius liked to think it was to see him, but he couldn't know for sure. She'd always been cagey, speaking almost exclusively with a sardonic grin lighting up her face. He’d only seen her get serious a couple of times, and it usually meant someone was about to get hurt.

Marius had been waiting for a few hours when she finally showed up. He felt her familiar presence and had to attune to the ghost field to see her. She liked to do this, make him seem like he was talking to himself. Junkies were common in this alley, though, so he didn't seem too out of place. Add the shakes and he'd fit right now. Marius smiled despite himself.

"You look well," he said.

She did a mock curtsy, at odds with the simple worker's garb she wore (and always would now). "Such kind words, m'lord."

Marius grimaced. He'd made the mistake of revealing his heritage to her and she never passed up an opportunity to tease him with it.

"Aw, did I do that wrong? Don’t worry, Rake, I've been getting plenty to eat. And I'm careful about it." She said, raising her hands before he could say anything. "How’s your little crew?"

"Good. We had our first big score. Six coin. We’re hungry for more... if you’ve heard anything?"

"Oh? Come for wisdom from beyond the grave?" Nyryx said with her best mock spooky voice.

Marius looked down at his feet, the wound of grief reopening.

"Devil’s blood, you’re a humorless fellow. Alright, let me think for a second."

Nyryx leans backwards, stroking her chin and squinting for exaggerated effect.

"Well what are you looking in for a job, exactly? A fat stack of coins? Some street cred? Or just the thrill of it all?"

She says the last part with a devilish grin.

"I know of something with from a certain older gentleman, if you're looking for coin...with the others, I might be able to connect the dots."

She raises her eyebrows, awaiting his response.

"Coin is good," said Marius, shop talk clearing some of the gloom. "It would be nice to be able to afford something better to eat. A few chickens for the Well, perhaps? I haven't had an egg in ages..."

He looked up at Nyryx, the shadow of a grin at the corners of his mouth. "Let's meet this older gentleman and see what the job is."

Nyryx smiles, her eyes narrowing. She always loved getting into trouble, didn't she?

"He's a secretive gent. I'll have to arrange a meeting...you know how it goes." She vanishes, gone as fast as she arrived. Bit of a tease.

----------

A few days later, Marius senses her presence as he's ducking down a side alley in Charterhall. Tuning into the ghost field, he sees her leaning against a brick wall.

"Fancy seeing you here."

She takes a few steps closer.

"Mistshore Park. Near the large oak." The oak was, of course, dead. However, it's withered frame still towered over the barren park.

"Hour of Flame, the night of the 17th. Look for the man with the gray cap. I'm sure he'll bring a few friends, for protection. No offense."

Nyryx smiles sweetly.

"And one last thing, m'lord...I wouldn't arrive late."

Read Episode 2 before the following posts.

Marius opens and closes his left hand as he walks down the familiar Coalridge alley leading to Traven's smoke shop. He'd cleaned and bandaged his wound, but it still hurt. Truth be told, he relished it a bit. He had earned this pain. Besides, the physical pain was so much better than...

"Good evening, my Lord," she whispers in his ear.

Marius jumps and wheels around, but she is nowhere to be seen. Hiding in the ghost field. Or perhaps just gone. He flexes his hand again, and grits his teeth against the pain.

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Simple cots were arrayed haphazardly in Traven's basement. It was a quiet night, and only a handful of them were occupied.

Marius makes his way to one in the back corner. It was stained with sweat and smelled of death, but he didn't care. All he could think of was of what was to come.

"What will it be today, sir?" asks one of Traven's employees, a small, middle-aged lady with long, ratty hair.

"Black Lotus," he says.

She smiles with rotten teeth. "Rough week?"

Marius flexes his left hand. "You could say that."

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Marius is gone. The smoke has taken it all away. But he'll be back. The pain never goes away for long. Already, he can hear its hungry howl.

His hand still hurts, but he feels better. Almost relaxed, even, as he leaves the smoke shop. It doesn't last long.

A couple of corners down, he sees the first tag saying "Skovs go home!". It's not long before he spots the first "No Skovs" sign in a shop's window. As he passes it, two goons leer at him. One of them stands, but Marius moves his coat flap, revealing the handle of a large, heavy pistol. The man wisely sits back down, but he can feel their eyes on him as he hurries down the street.

The signs and tags taper off as he heads closer to Charhollow, and he even sees a few signs in Skovlan. As he passes by a tavern, he hears the voices of a group of people singing a sad, familiar song about a demon who falls for a young human man. She offers him many gifts to marry her, but he refuses.

Marius stops to listen for a bit. The song is led by a strong, powerful singer who seems to be accompanied by multiple other drunk patrons. Marius remembers singing this song around the campfire with his unit. It was Olivia's favorite, before half her head was blown off by an Imperial sniper.

Before he realizes he's moving, he steps into the bar. A few of the other patrons turn to look at him, but most are too engrossed in their singing to care. Besides, he mostly fits in with the largely Skovlander crowd.

He takes a seat at the bar and motions to the barmaid for a drink.

The bairmaid pours Marius a tall glass of amber ale and sets it down in front of him. She greets him shortly but warmly.

"Evenin'."

Seated next to Marius is an elderly man who appears to be an older Skovlander. He nods at Marius and holds his glass up in a silent toast.

"Thank you," Marius says to the barmaid as he places a few pieces on the counter.

He nods back to the old man and raises his glass as well, before bringing it to his lips and sampling the ale. Not quite like back home, but close.

He indicates the singers with a jerk of his head. "Haven't heard Herr Mannelig in while. It's nice to be reminded of home. Are performances like this common here?"

The man nods, looking around the room thoughtfully.

"We have carved out a bit of a home for ourselves here. It might be cramped, it may be dirty, but we take care of one another. We don't have much, but we make sure our neighbors have food and the necessities."

He takes a sip of his ale.

"How long have you been in Doskvol?"

"A few months," says Marius, intentionally vague. "I've been trying to settle in. Find some work. It's been going alright, I suppose." He flexes his left hand.

"I saw the signs and the tags on my way here. Has anyone been giving you trouble?"

The man's face darkens, but he shakes his head.

"I think most just choose to ignore an old man like me. And that suits me just fine."

Marius smiles sadly. "Well, glad to know there's at least one advantage of getting old."

He takes a sip from his drink.

"If you tend to be ignored, you must overhear things. Say, for example, who a young, capable fellow should talk to if he'd like to help? Community leaders. Fellow Skovlanders looking for things in short supply. People with ambition."

Marius smiles sadly. "Well, glad to know there's at least one advantage of getting old."

He takes a sip from his drink.

"If you tend to be ignored, you must overhear things. Say, for example, who a young, capable fellow should talk to if he'd like to help? Community leaders. Fellow Skovlanders looking for things in short supply. People with ambition."

The man regards Marius thoughtfully. It's clear he knows something what or how much he will divulge, he's still deciding.

He writes something down on a piece of paper and slides it across the table. He nods toward it.

"You wanna make a difference for us? Go there." He leans in close. "Ask for badger."

He leans back and sits up, dusting off his coat. He sets a few extra coins down for the barmaid.

"Chance to be a part of something bigger."

He lowers his voice again one more time before he walks off.

"But keep it between you and me, eh? Gotta watch our backs. Good talking to you, kid."

meta:

Marius takes the paper and puts it in his pocket. He lifts his glass to the old man.

"Good evening, sir."

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As he walks back to the Well, Marius takes the paper out and has a look at the address. He puts it back in his pocket and starts humming Herr Mannelig. Maybe the war isn't lost yet.

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Quellyn's Poultices and Herbs really played up the witch aesthetic. Drying herbs hung from the ceiling, a big pot of bubbling liquid sat on the fire. A black, one-eyed cat sat on the counter, looking at Marius with disdain.

Quellyn herself, however, was not the shriveled up old crone people pictured when you said "witch". She was a short, round, jovial, middle-aged woman with long graying hair tied up in a bun. She looked like everyone's favorite grandma. Unlike her cat, she greeted Marius with a warm, welcoming smile. "Hey there, sweetie. It's been a minute. How have you been? How is your sister?"

Marius smiled despite himself. "She's doing good. I, however, did run into a bit of trouble recently," he said, lifting up his injured hand.

Quellyn makes a "tut-tut" sound and shakes her head, as if disapproving of a troublesome child. She sighs and tells Marius to take a seat while she gets to work.

She prepares a noxious, strange-smelling brew for Marius to drink, burns some incense, and mutters a few words under her breath while holding his injured hand gingerly.

Although it would be a stretch to say he enjoys the process, he does leave her storefront feeling like the injury has moderately improved. His hand tingles slightly but he feels less acute pain. Now just to get that acrid taste out of his mouth...

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Marius clutches the piece of paper with his good hand, keeping it buried in his pocket. Despite his best efforts, he stands out among the crowds of workers milling to and fro as he moves down the cramped, narrow residential streets of the ironically named Queen's Court in Coalridge. The densely packed apartments rise high above his head, connected by clotheslines, sparkwires, and rickety walkways made of little more than corrugated metal sheets.

He finally reaches the address the old man gave him, a basement with a heavy-looking door. He walks to stand in front of its bulk and, for a second, he hesitates. Should he really be doing this? He had fought for a lost cause once before. Hadn't he had enough? He thinks of all he had lost, and of how little he had left. His homeland, his family, Nyryx... He flexes his left hand.

Ash was the last of his family, but she could take care of herself. She'd always been the strong one.

He raises his right hand and knocks.

The door swings open. At first Marius can't see anyone on the inside and his heart skips a beat - a spirit? Then in the darkness he sees the person - the child - that opened the door. A young girl with a bad haircut. She looks up at Rake expectantly, and looking a little nervous too.

Marius looks down at the young girl. Using children in war was nothing new, but it had never sat well with him. This was a bad start, but it wasn't a deal breaker. Hopefully, she just helped out like Spooks helped the Phantoms.

"I'm looking for Badger."

The girl stares wide-eyed and scared at Rake for a moment longer before scurrying off into the darkness. A moment later a man with brown, disheveled hair, a brown shirt and suspenders walks to the door.

He eyes Marius up and down, his expression only slightly betraying his distrust. Then again, you can hardly blame him - if the bluecoats knew what he was up to...

"Evenin'. Can I help ya?"

"Good evening, sir. Sorry to bother you, but a mutual friend gave me your address and said I should ask for Badger," says Marius, keeping his voice low and conversational.

He slowly pulls the paper out of his pocket and shows it to the man.

The man raises an eyebrow nonchalantly and grabs the paper. You get the sense that he is trying to appear very casual and perhaps even like he doesn't know what you're talking about. He reads the paper and looks back up at Rake, regarding him carefully.

"Come inside, friend."

His tone is warmer, but still guarded. He turns around lazily and walks back into the house, leading you into a cramped bedroom lit only by one small lamp. Two armchairs sit opposite one another, both ratty and with plenty of loose strands or holes in the upholstery. A soot-stained window looks out the window over a curving street. Somewhere else in the apartment, it sounds like someone is practicing violin - they're quite good, although they are playing the same mournful phrases over and over and over.

He gestures to one of the chairs and offers you something to drink, then makes small talk for a little while before fixing Rake with a hard-gaze.

"What's your name? And what really brings you here?"

Marius pauses, thinking. The man sitting across from him is Akorosi, and Marius had come here looking to help Skovlanders, his people. Still, the man who had given him the address said this "Badger" could help. And Marius was already working with an Akorosi, Stev. His peers were refugees in a foreign land. It would be foolish not to work with friendly locals.

"My name is Marius. I fought in The War. On the losing side, if it wasn't obvious," he gives an embarrassed smile. "I wasn't on the frontlines, though. Not much anyway. I worked on the side, protecting our troops from the devils roaming the countryside. The ones you couldn't just put a bullet in."

Marius stops and turns to look at the lamp's flame dancing on its oil-soaked wick. He remembers other fires, back home. The ones he sat around with his unit. The ones who spit from guns and canons. The ones who consumed his family's manor.

"The War destroyed Skovlan." He turns to look at the man. "Your people came to poison us, and when we said no, you sent an army. We were beaten and murdered. Our homes were burned! There's nothing left but bones, ashes and poison rain!"

Marius sighs. "I'm sorry. I know you had no say in it. I do not blame the people of Akoros for The War. But when I see the way my people is treated here. People who only left their homeland because they had to to survive. Well, it makes my blood boil. Your people may not have had a say in The War, but they certainly do now, and what they say is "Skovs Go Home". I even had to show iron to walk through Coalridge unmolested the other night. So, you ask me why I'm really here? It's because devils are still hunting my people and I want to do something about it."

Badger listens attentively, his eyes hard. When Rake finishes speaking there's an awkward moment of silence. A light rain has started falling outside and it seems to be the only noise in the room, in addition to the crackling wick.

"What Akoros did to Skovlan...was unforgiveable. Is unforgiveable."

"I am sorry Skovlanders have been treated this way. I am. The council, the elites, they pit us against each other. They want people like you and me to hate one another. "

He sits in silence a moment longer and takes a deep breath.

"No more. We are one people, united. United against the greed, against the cruelty, fighting for a better world for our children."

"The question is...what are you willing to do to fight for that freedom?"

Marius sits quietly for a second, thinking.

"War is good for one thing: testing what you think are the lines you won't cross. I used to think I wouldn't shoot a person in the back, but..." He shrugs and looks away. He keeps the fact that the man was unarmed to himself, shame and regret warring for supremacy in his mind.

He sighs and looks up at Badger. "There are rumors you blew up a building a few months ago. Property damage doesn't concern me much. Neither does fighting enemy "soldiers"."

Badger listens to Rake closely. Is that respect you see in his eyes?

He nods when Rake finishes.

"We are sure to have a use for your talents. We'll be in touch, I'm sure. In the meantime...take care and watch your back."

Read Episode 3 before the following posts.

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Marius hurried down the street towards Traven's smoke shop at a brisk pace. He was on edge, his teeth gritted. He needed to get good, take the edge off. The last score had been too close for comfort. The confined space, the Akorosi soldiers, it brought up too many bad memories.

When he walked in he headed straight down, ignoring the dog and pony show usually put on by Traven upstairs. Whether the proprietor raised a stink or simply let him by when he saw Marius' face, the Whisper didn't notice.

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Quellyn welcomed Marius warmly again. Scoundrels made for great repeat customers, after all. She changed the bandages on his hand, applying a foul smelling poultice and made swallow and equally foul brew.

He left feeling slightly light headed, but the pain in his hand was barely noticeable. A bit more rest, and he'd be good as new. Well, except for the scarring.

Read Episode 4 before the following posts.

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Marius lounged on the old couch in Traven's basement, pulling on the lotus pipe, letting the smoke take away the tension from his body. He relaxed, leaning back and closing his eyes. Things were looking up. He'd thought Ash was the last of his relatives, but his cousin had survived as well and joined their crew. Not to mention what he'd learned during their last score...

He felt a hand on his knee, working its way up his thigh. He opened his eyes and sat up, his left hand shooting out and catching the groper's wrist. It was a young woman, dressed in a servant's simple robe. A few strands of blond hair poked out from her bonnet. "Didn't you like it, m'Lord?" she asked in a mocking tone.

Marius relaxed, letting go of her wrist. "I did not."

"Aw, and I thought you'd never grow tired of me," she said, sitting down in his lap and taking the pipe from him. She took a long drag, blowing out the smoke slowly from her lips and closing her eyes, savoring it. She turned to him, a familiar look on an unfamiliar face. "I was certain this one would please you. Isn't she adorable?"

Marius looked away. "She isn't you."

There was a long, awkward pause. Nyryx sighed, Marius heard the pain in it. He turned back to her. "I... I've got a lead. On a way to bring you back."

Nyryx tensed, going very still. "... What?"

"Have you heard of Twice-Dead Tom? Word is he made a deal with a demon and came back... twice... If I can just find it, mayb-"

Nyryx stood up and turned her frightened face to him. "Have you gone mad? Marius, I-" she paused, looking around. She had raised her voice. People were starting to stare at them. "Please, don't do this," she said in a low voice. A second later she was gone, leaving a confused girl in her place.

Marius took the pipe from her trembling hands and sent her away.

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Marius had spent days beating the pavement trying to track down witnesses to Twice-Dead Tom's resurrections. He'd been in taverns, clubs, whisper haunts, homeless camps in grottos and abandoned canals. Whenever he got back to the Well, he would toss and turn in bed, trying to separate fact from fiction, until he finally drifted off to sleep.

He avoided Ash and Cadence, certain they would be able to tell what he'd been up to, and that they'd disapprove, like she had. He wouldn't be deterred, of course, but he couldn't afford to lose time with a fight. They'd have to get back to work soon. He told himself he needed a lead before then, or he'd be distracted, but as time wore on, it was becoming clear he wouldn't get it.

Coaxing information from people had never been his forte, and it was showing. For all the effort he'd put in, he'd made little progress. He had been told off so many times, he'd come to expect it of every interaction.

It took him catching himself considering taking coin from the crew's safe for him to finally take stock. He was pushing himself too hard and he would burn himself out if he kept going. After that, he spent a few days resting. He wasn't about to give up, but this wouldn't be a sprint. It would be a marathon. And not even a new Cataclysm would keep him from his goal.

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Looking for a change of pace from Nyelle's cramped backstore, Marius had invited her to The Devil's Tooth, the rather famous tavern in Nightmarket known for its unusual alchemical concoctions. The return of Cadence had rekindled his desire for luxury, and he had figured he might as well indulge a little. Unfortunately, his intentions had not translated well to the page and, though flattered, the spirit trafficker had shown up fully intent on letting the young man down gently: she didn't mix business and pleasure. Marius' appearance didn't help alleviate the misunderstanding. He'd shaved off his usual five-o'clock shadow and had put on his best clothing: a wool, pinstriped three-piece suit and a fine cotton shirt. The dark eyeliner he'd applied made his blue eyes pop like sapphires.

Nyelle sat opposite the young whisper with a subtle smirk on her face and smoothed down her herringbone skirt. Marius smiled appreciatively as he noted that she, too, had taken the opportunity to indulge. She had braided her usually loose shoulder-length hair and had eschewed the theatrical garb and makeup she usually wore to ply her trade in favor of a more understated, yet flattering ensemble. The waitress came by before they could exchange more than a greeting. Once their orders were placed, Nyelle opened her mouth to give Marius her regrets.

"I'd like to talk to you about a few of the items I've seen around your shop. And a few others around Nightmarket," said Marius in a conversational tone.

Nyelle's mouth snapped shut, her eyes growing a touch wider in surprise. Marius wasn't looking directly at her and didn't notice a thing. She looked away.

"Particularly, the ancient artefacts some merchants seem to have a steady supply of," he continued obliviously, "I wonder how one would go about securing such a supply."

Nyelle chuckled to herself, shaking her head slightly. She had pegged this eager puppy wrong. She was glad she hadn't made a fool of herself and that their relationship would stay professional. Still, she couldn't help but feel a touch of annoyance.

She turned back to see Marius looking at her expectantly.

"I know someone." Nyelle takes a sip of wine, a playful look in her eye. "And I believe you know him too. Goes by the name of Mr. Gaunt, ring any bells?"

She smiles, waiting to see his response.

Marius frowned. The crew had done a job for Mr. Gaunt a couple of weeks before. He was an agent of The Circle of Flame, one of the few factions they had a good relationship with. As far as he knew, so did Nyelle.

"Yes, I know him. He supplies the shops in Nightmarket?" he asked cautiously.

Nyelle nods, carefully and meticulously slicing a large mushroom on her plate.

"He's one of the more prominent artifact dealers. Others are selling, sure, but more often than not it's something they bought from him or his associates in the first place."

She leans in close.

"I've heard from a colleague that he has some operation in place to sneak them from the Lost District through ships in Three Queens area. On more than once things have been lost or delayed due to Navy interference, though. An opportunity for your crew, perhaps...?"

She takes a bite of the mushroom and closes her eyes in satisfaction. She murmurs in delight, clearly savoring the delicate earthy flavor.

Rake sat in silence for a bit, pushing the food around his porcelain plate with his silver fork. He sighed and looked around the dimly lit room, pretending to admire its wooden paneling and extravagant mouldings. He looked back down at his plate. "I've got to admit, I'm a bit confused. My crew is on good terms with Mr. Gaunt's employers, chiefly because of you. Maybe I'm misunderstanding your meaning, but it sounds like you're suggesting we step on their toes." He turned to look at her, searching her face for a sign she was joking. Or possessed.

Nyelle rolled her eyes before motioning to the waiter for more wine. After a refill, she takes a sip and fixes Rake with a look of mild irritation.

"Don't be dense. You ladies and gents are starting to get a bit of a rep for transporting...things..." she waves her hand around lazily, glancing around to make sure no one is listening too closely. "...transporting things discreetly...or barring that, in a manner that ensures they get to the right buyer." She leans back, wiping her hands on the napkin.

"Gaunt's buying from someone past the lightnin' barrier. But seems he's having a bit of trouble with interference getting it into the city proper. That's a job right up your alley, don't you agree?"

She winks.

"First business idea is free. Next one will cost you."

Marius visibly relaxed. "Right," he said, acknowledging his mistake.

"Well, if Mr. Gaunt is willing to subcontract the work, all we'd have to secure is a route." He smiled. "I'm afraid that's all I can afford."

It would be enough, though. He had already begun to formulate a plan.

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Mistshore Park bore its name well. Sitting on the western bank of the eastern bracnh of the river Dosk, it was permanently wreathed in fog. The dim light filtering through the overgrown space from the lightning barrier across the water completed the ambience. Its unpredictable, stroboscopic nature made the forms of the petrified trees seem alive and writhing under the whip-crack of its thunderous emanations.

Marius made his way alone through the murk, clutching his demonbane token and giving a wide berth to the spirits who called the park home. In old folk ballads, young lovers who could not be together would commit suicide in this park. He wasn't sure if there was any truth to it, but lovesick ghosts tended to be particularly voracious.

He found a spot near the shore, where he could keep his back to the water. For some unfathomable reason, spirits tended to prefer solid ground, so he reasoned this would keep a hungry one from sneaking up on him. Up the bank in front of him stood Redfog Tower. It's advanced age was made apparent by its elaborate architecture. Since the Cataclysm, few buildings were built with any amount of detail carved into the stone. Only things built for the rich benefitted from the flourishes of an architect's fancy, not infrastructure. It was wasteful. Redfog Tower had gargoyles and decorative frescoes adorning it. Its windows had once been painted glass, it was said. From it, the old aqueduct stretched across the water on stony pillars, disappearing on the other side of the lightning barrier.

He knelt on the ground. He pulled his mask from his bag, as well as a dark, red candle, and a small vial of electroplasm meant as an offering. He had also brought his spirit hook, just in case, which he kept hidden under his coat.

Marius lit the candle and put on his mask. He focused on the ghost field, slightly raising the electroplasmic charge of the air around him to attract nearby spirits, and waited for one to manifest.

It doesn't take long to see movement in the mists to Rake's right. Something a few feet off the ground, swaying gently in the cold winter winds blowing the mists and fog about. A closer look reveals a figure hanging by a thin rope from a long-dead oak tree. A young gentleman in fine clothes, his face mottled and purple from asphyxiation. The voice that greets Rake is laced with sorrow.

"What is it, whisper?"

Marius bowed as one would to an equal. "Good evening, sir. Please accept this humble gift for the pleasure of your company," he said, moving closer and offering the vial. "I seek information about Redfog Tower. I have a use for it, but I wonder if anyone might object. Would you happen to know if anyone claims it as their own?"

The ghost drifts down to the ground, levelling with Rake. He takes the vial, regarding it lazily but with clear interest. The noose is still wrapped tightly around the man's neck.

He glances toward the tower before answering.

"Well, it's haunted, as I'm sure you can imagine given its proximity to the barrier. Quite a few nasty spirits there, but they don't seem to bother their inhabitants."

He turns to look at Rake directly.

"There's some group of upstart scoundrels held up in there. I believe they're hired killers, they sneak in and out at odd hours, and while I can't say for sure, they seem to carry a...morbid energy to them."

"Is that all? I was rather enjoying drifting aimlessly in the wind..."

The ghost furrows his brow, holding his hand to his chin.

"What was it...they called themselves Children of the...Children of the Fang, that was it. Had a lot of daggers fashioned out of large teeth of some sort. Seem mixed up in the occult, strange folk indeed. There were maybe 8 or 10 of them? I didn't count..."

Marius nodded. That was a pretty big crew, and a mean one by the sound of it. They'd have to be creative to get them to relinquish the tower. A bit more muscle wouldn't hurt. Maybe the Grinders could help?

He looked back to the ghost and bowed again. "Thank you for your time," he said, before taking his leave.