Chapter 1- Part 3: Wreckage of a Plan, Continued
The surface of the streets shifted suddenly from Low to Mid Ripple. Walkways and thoroughfares in the section of town closest to the docks were constructed of dirt and grime. Stomped and compacted to a hard surface in most places, pools of rain water revealed the material as its true form by way of muddy puddles.
Here in Mid Ripple it was a finely formed cobblestone. Water flowed along concrete channels into gutters that lined the street. Dirty drab signs gave way to deep-red huned colors and clear messages. “Constance’s Corner”; a local pub whose owner was enjoying the abrupt come downs of a busy night. “Luke’s Lapels and Fabrics”; a tailor shop had sat dark and empty for hours now. As Aesop silently made his way to Bill’s house, he took note of the strange mood of the night. He was almost completely alone, only a smattering of people remained milling about. To the West Aesop could see the wall of the great mountain, its precipice was lined with imposing guard parapets of solid stone. In the center of the visage, in High Ripple which rested at the mountains feet, was the capitol building in all it’s splendor. Ripple was carved as a great horseshoe shape in the side of the bluff, the result was both glorious and confining. Each section of Ripple was divided by a large wall that ran from the Northern side to the South of town. Between Low and Mid Ripple, the barrier was a 50 foot tall construction that was under constant guard patrol. A brusque interview with a few surly guards at the Midtown Gate had delayed Aesop’s rendezvous with Bill further.
It was nearing the hour of three. Lower Ripple had still been a hub of drunken stupor on legs. As Aesop made his way to Bill's, he blended in seamlessly with the throngs of drunks, dissappearing in plain sight. Bumbling soldiers enjoying each others company with gambling, fighting, singing. Prostitutes stood outside taverns calling to anyone within earshot. Crooks and thieves waited in alleys for their shot at a big take. The charismatic and dangerous sounds of a machine that never comes to a complete stand-still was ambient. Aesop played the part of the bumbling musician new to Ripple, while examining every one of the people he passed.
The other side of the threshold, here in the middle class section of town, seemed a different story. Aesop had expected at least some of those trappings of a boisterous night. Where he was anticipating the artisan guild workers of higher quality to be unwinding, he found only silent streets. Looking around at the windows that lined the facades, he noticed many candles were still lit, their soft glows spilling through the burgundy curtains and out into the night. Many of these houses held families, and would usually be dark for sleep. The men of the households would typically have left, would be amonst the cobblestones as Aesop was now. But they were at home, candles lit.
Something had happened on these streets recently. Citizens in this area had witnessed something and cleared out. Occasional movement in the windows revealed a few curious eyes, some worried looks. People who were watching the world, but felt they needed to be protected from it.
He was so close.
Aesop picked up his pace as his excitement grew, he bore a full grin as he arrived under a large painted silver sign. Written in Oxblood red were the words “William’s Wonders”. Aesop made his way around the corner of the brick building and descended the four stone steps to a back door.
He knocked once, sharply. The resulting sound was a dull thud on the great oaken surface.
The large door swung open, a gruff voice reverberated from within.
“Why the smile? You’re late.”
Aesop looked at his old friend warmly, noticing the yellowing scale at the center of Bill’s forehead. He tapped it with his finger.
“Perhaps too late. Why Bill, it appears all your stressing and old age has caught up to you.”
Bill looked at him seriously. He was of the Dragonborne, a mysterious race of people that came from the South East a thousand years before. His scaling was mostly dark green, a few small bright orange scales flecked throughout. The scale in question, the one Aesop had tapped, was a large frontal scale inset a few inches from Bill’s red pupiled eyes. Bill grunted and motioned inside with his snout.
“Thinking of naming it Prescott in your honor. Get in here before someone sees you.”
Aesop stepped into the basement room. A fire was crackling and swaying in the hearth, two men sat beside a large, scroll laden table. He hadn’t been expecting more people to be brought in on this job, perhaps things have escalated further than Bill had liked. His lizardy friend had a knack for caution, it was clear that things had changed. Bill's paranoia made trust difficult, Aesop took the inclusion of the new people in stride.
“I’m guessing we need to skip the 'how do you do’s'. I’m Bishop.”
He extended his right hand to the taller of the two men, who looked down at the floor and said nothing.
The shorter man spoke first.
“His name is Tilum. He doesn’t talk much, and he doesn’t shake hands.”
The shorter man rose to his feet and offered his, Aesop took it.
“No offense to you or nothing, my brother is a peculiar one. Always has been. My name’s Tilk.”
Bill bolted the door and glanced out the window.
“Any problems with the guards?”
Aesop thought back to the unpleasant interaction minutes ago.
“They honestly didn’t say much. Mostly just stared at me while I stood there. They asked what my business was, I said I was looking to perform for the Mayor’s party at week’s end. The dumb one said something about hearing about that, the smart one looked me over for a bit. Eventually they both stepped aside.”
Bill was serious, his tone flat.
“Did they suspect anything?”
“No. The smart one was trying to come up with reasons to deny me, didn’t like performers. Many people don’t Bill, they don’t view us as people. So I would say he came to the conclusion that there was nothing I could do worse than pester.”
Tilk took his seat again at the table. Aesop looked at Tilum briefly, nodded his head. Tilum said nothing, but nodded back.
Bill spoke as he sat.
“We need you to do much more than pestering tonight. The job has changed old friend, I may not have enough to pay you for what I need.”
Aesop shook his head fervently, pulled up a chair.
“You’re fishing with the wrong bait. I don’t care about that right now, we will work it out later. What’s happened?”
Bill locked eyes with Aesop in that moment, and many things were conveyed. Bill was a man of few words, Aesop a man of many. When they first met at schooling, the relationship was rocky. He had found communicating with Bill extremely frustrating. Bill would lower his gates at the first sign of trouble, his intimidating gaze the return for every word. But eventually Aesop came to rely on those looks, could find the most intricate of messages in the nuances of them. To many the Dragonborne were impossible to read, Bill had taught Aesop that it was a rewarding challenge.
Aesop nodded a bit.
“Taken in the streets.”
Tilk took a big gulp of mulled wine, then wiped his mouth.
“That’s right. Not an hour ago, Tilum saw it. Bill had told us to keep an eye out for your group, didn’t expect for everyone to hear about it.”
Bill spoke.
“It was an all out brawl. Tilk caught the end of it just before they were taken away.”
Aesop turned his attention to Tilk.
“What did you see or hear? What did your brother witness?”
Tilk laughed.
“Look. I’m not sure we have time to go into many details. Suffice it to say, them guards were told to take your friends specifically, but they had to make it seem to outsiders like that wasn’t the case. Tilum says to me there was a lot of ‘Who are you, what are you doing here?’ which is typical. But Tilum says the guards weren’t much interested in the answers..."
Tilum stirred slightly in his seat, then shook his head.
Tilk continued.
"Right. Not guards, didn't have the right uniforms. Black outfits, the leader was a half-orc. Mean brute. Fighting happened right quick, with not much provocation.”
Aesop thought for a moment.
“Just a group of thugs maybe. Leader with a large ego, false sense of power?”
Bill shook his head.
“There were expecting our group specifically. Knew exactly what they were looking for.”
Aesop nodded. Fuck.
“What’s the plan then?”
Tilum pounded on the table abruptly, causing everyone to jump slightly. Tilk laughed and motioned towards his brother.
“Tilum’s got one.”