Swamped

What's up with those disreputable characters following Mort around?

"Who exactly has been following Mortimer? He mentioned something about it, but, uh, I didn't think to press for details at the time."

No doubt the two of them had other things on their mind.

"I'm trying to figure that out. It's got something to do with his father and uncle, but I'm not really sure on the details." Which hopefully the informant will be able to provide.

"Is he in danger?"

"Not mortal danger, most likely. But he does seem to be in danger of being a pawn in somebody's power game."

"Hells," Monty grumbles. "I knew his uncle was up to some dodgy stuff, but I didn't think it had gone that bad."

"I'm doing my best to stop it." Except you might not be able to, if it's already happened. You only know of the Guild's reputation, not the particulars - you suspect Leonard won't be winning this fight, but you don't know exactly how he's going to lose.

Still, you are doing your best. You just don't know if it's going to be enough - then again, who ever does?

But Monty seems very troubled. Perhaps what they need is some direction - a way to help Mortimer.

How important is family to Mortimer? Can he pursue his own interests and detach himself from the fate of the Flames? What even are his interests?

"Look, I don't have all the answers, but I know this much. Mortimer's main problem is that he's a Flame. That means something to enough people that he's a useful symbol. If he renounced his family and their name, he wouldn't be a symbol any longer."

"I dunno. They could still go after him to get to his father or uncle," Monty grumbles.

"Maybe. But ask yourself this - is Mortimer his own man, or is he his family's? Is this the life he wants? Does he seem happy to you?"

You've been thrust back in time, and you're not sure about whether you're making meaningful decisions or simply taking actions that have already been taken. You can't help but find yourself eager to advocate for self-determination.

And it seems to be having an impact on Monty.

"No. He doesn't. Always a little distant. Maybe because he's got this whole mess in the background and he doesn't want me getting hurt, maybe it's something else." Monty sighs. "But he does need help with that, doesn't he. Whatever happens with this business. I can do that much for him. Thanks."

And Monty wanders off. You don't know how this is going to go, but you've done what you can.

Now you need to find the informant. The show at Patterson's bar seems like your best bet, and maybe you can get somewhere with looking into the actors while you're at it.

Though you've just realized a problem. You don't have any money on you. You'll either have to get ahold of some quickly, or sneak your way into the show.

Check the couch cushions in the waiting room?

Well, the easiest way is to look for money that won't be missed. You head to the front, and quickly check the cushions. Nobody's around to stop you.

You find a few coins. Probably not enough.

More interestingly, you also find a page torn out of a book. You don't recognize the language, but the format makes you think of a recipe.

You wonder if this has anything to do with the thief you spotted earlier. This is actually taken from a book, though - it's not a separate sheet. It still might be related, but it wouldn't be the page that was actually stolen.

But you can't really look into it right now. There's one last chair. You lift up the cushion, and find five more coins - that's more likely to pay your way. If not, maybe you can bargain for the rest somehow.

You scoop up the coins, and then you realize there's something else there.

Hmm. It looks like a mystical runestone to me. What do you think?

It's a stone, with an unusual symbol on it. It's reminiscent of some of the runes your master showed you, but it doesn't match any of them.

Perhaps it's a fake of some kind? Maybe a child's toy. You doubt it would be left here so carelessly if it were important.

At the same time... there's something strange about it. Aside from that it resembles a runestone, you mean. You can't quite settle on what's bothering you about it, but you suppose you may as well take a look at it later.

For now, you put it in your pocket and head to the bar. The loose change turns out to be just enough for a ticket, with one coin left over.

You've got some time before the show actually starts, so you suppose you should find someone you can drop some Kandrian names to. You take a glance around the bar to see who seems approachable.

There's a tall woman in a shiny hat looking at the menu.

There's a woman sitting at the bar, in the spot Monty was at earlier. She's glancing over the menu.

She's quite tall. When she sits, her head is just under your eye level. And the hat she's wearing only serves to make her look even taller.

The menu serves as a good excuse to talk.

"It might be a while before they can get anything for you," you tell her. "The owner and one of the staff are over at the hospital across the way. So they might be a little understaffed in the meantime."

"Just as well. I'm not that hungry yet," she replies. "They should be back by the intermission. So I'll simply pick out my meal now."

This seems like a good spot to drop some Kandrian names.

"I wonder if they happen to serve Duck Valache here," you muse. "I've never had it before."

"I don't see anything like that. Not a lot of places to get duck in this town."

"Pity," you reply. "Probably no Istra Manor wine, either. Well, I'll leave you to it. Hope the show's good."

You didn't really use the words as names, but it might get the informant's attention. You make a quick glance around to see if anyone seems to be watching you, or sending any sort of signal.

No obvious signs, though. They're probably fairly subtle if they're good at this job, though. So you look around again to see if you can pick anything up at all.

Well, one little thing catches your eye.

That one person is concealing a sword.

Someone is hiding a sword under their coat. You can just barely make out the shape of it in little folds.

Which means they're a good person to talk to if you want to get the attention of someone watching the crowd. If you noticed it, a careful observer would have as well, and would be keeping a particular eye on them.

"Have you seen these actors perform before?" you ask casually.

"Get lost," they snarl. "Didn't come here for small talk."

"Really? I always thought of bars as good places for small talk. But I suppose it takes all kinds in this world."

You wonder what they're doing here. Waiting for a drink? Or something else. On the other hand, if they aren't looking to talk, then you'll have trouble getting more information out of them, and you're not sure it's going to be all that useful.

Still, you should at least try to mention a name or two before you break off. You just need to think of a good way to do that.

"You must not be Faldak, then," you mutter. After all, there almost certainly isn't anyone who goes by Faldak. "Sorry for the trouble."

That, oddly enough, seems to get a reaction. You see just a hint of fear in their eyes before you turn away. You wonder why - perhaps they don't want to be recognized, and had a moment of worry that you'd identified them? Or perhaps they recognize the Kandrian name, and have an unpleasant history with that country. Hardly unheard of.

But you don't really have time to look into it further. You need to meet this informant, and you've only started dropping Kandrian words as names. It would be one thing if you were following a particular lead, but you can't see how any of these people are likely to be able to tell you anything about what's going on...

Hold on. You just caught a glimpse of something as you passed by another customer. You surreptitiously take a second glance to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

At the back of their neck, you can see just a hint of a strap. A strap that matches the ones on the breather masks you've seen tonight. This person might be involved in some suspicious business.

You need to think about how to handle this safely. It could be a strap for something else, for all you know, and they're not involved at all. Or, if they are involved, giving them any sense that you know about the masks might push them into doing something drastic.

Perhaps you could simply keep an eye on them. But you also might learn something interesting if you approach them directly.

You don't manage to get a better idea than just watching, so you do. You also keep an eye out for someone else to talk to, both because you may still need to get the informant's attention and because it might help you evade notice.

The customer with the strap seems to briefly exchange glances with the one concealing a sword. Working together, perhaps? Or do they simply know each other from elsewhere?

But it only lasts a moment. Your quarry sits down at a table relatively close to the stage. There are three others already there, but you don't see any particular signs they recognize each other.

You do, however, see someone at the next table get up only a moment later. Coincidence? Or coordination?

You glance back and forth between the person with the strap and the person who just got up, waiting to see if either of them does something.

The main thing you notice is that both of them are glancing at the clock every so often. Of course, that could just be eagerness for the show to start. But you have your doubts.

You note that three others are watching the clock that regularly as well. One of them is the woman in the hat you were talking to earlier. The person concealing a sword seems uninterested, though. In fact, they're facing away from the clock.

A few more people start to come in. The show's starting in just ten minutes. You think you'd be best served finding the informant, so you can talk while the crowd is distracted. One more conversation should get their attention, then you'll see if you can find them.

And that's when you spot someone very distinctive. Yet another woman who resembles Rebecca. You definitely want to get some more information out of her, whatever else you do. So you approach.

But she turns towards you suddenly, and asks you a question you're very surprised to hear.

Are you planning to be a father?

"Have you ever considered adoption?"

You rather obviously aren't going to adopt anyone while you're stuck in the past, but you also don't feel you could handle it. The idea of even having an apprentice on top of your regular work feels like too much responsibility, and apprentices are at least adults.

But your feelings on the matter aren't as important as wondering why someone is even asking that here, of all places.

"Never given it much thought until you raised the subject. Can't say it seems like I'd be cut out for it, either. Why on earth are you asking that in a bar?"

"Because bars are good places to find lonely people," she replies matter-of-factly. "The sorts of people who feel a lack of purpose, which raising a child might provide for them. Of course, there are plenty of irresponsible drunkards in bars, too, but it's not as if we sign any of the actual paperwork here. We just try to gauge interest."

Well, now that she's put it that way you can understand the idea, but it still seems more than a little odd. Still, it's an angle of conversation, maybe you can get somewhere with it.

"And who exactly are 'we' in this case?"

"Nobody in particular. We aren't really a formal organization, just a group of volunteers working on behalf of all the city's orphanages. We've adopted children ourselves and are looking to help other people see the benefits of parenthood, while giving those poor orphans better homes where they can be focused on, rather being one child among dozens."

"Are there that many orphans here?" you ask. You were aware there were two or three separate orphanages, but you'd never had any reason to look into the details.

"About fifty altogether. There were eighty-five before we started our work, and only ten of those were adoptions by members of our group. So we're definitely making a difference."

Hmm. You're not sure this is telling you anything. What you really want to know is why this woman looks so much like two others you've seen tonight - and like a woman you'll meet years in the future. But how are you going to lead the conversation in that direction?

Are siblings kept together? I'm sure you and your sisters wouldn't have wanted to be separated.

"I'm curious. Do siblings usually want to be adopted together?"

"That has a lot to do with their upbringing, as you'd expect." Hmm. No obvious reaction. She does adjust her glasses slightly, though, which might be something. "If they're old enough, and were raised together in a supportive household, then yes, they usually do maintain a bond of family and want to stay together. Not to mention that it's hardly uncommon for orphaned children who aren't blood relatives to grow that close."

"And what do the orphanages do to keep them together?"

"I asked about that myself. There isn't a formal system for it, but what they do makes it very difficult for separate adoptions if the children are unwilling. Every prospective parent has to commit to providing a month of foster care, and check in with the orphanage every week. They talk to the child during those check-ins, so they can usually see if anything's going wrong." She looks down for just a moment as she says that. Perhaps thinking of a time something went wrong? "So if either sibling has separation anxiety, that will usually become clear in that time. And the adoption is only approved if the foster care went well."

"Well, I suppose that would be a bit of a relief if I did consider it. I wouldn't have to commit to raising a child, just see how I did with a month of it." You decide to make things slightly more personal. "How has adoption worked out for you?"

"For myself? It could have been better. But I think it's been good for my new children."

Interesting.

"Sorry, are you adopted yourself?"

"I was, and to be clear, I don't hold anything against my parents. They did what they could. But Kandria is a terrible place to raise children. I'm glad I got out of there."

So even if she is related to those other two, she might not know it. This seems like a good spot to drop a name... but if she knows Kandrian, she'll know what it actually means. Best to pass it off as a mispronunciation.

In which case, it would be good to pick a name you know is a real one, and mess it up slightly to be a word. Preferably a word that the informant will know is one you meant to say...

Ah. You have just the word.

"Did you ever hear about a fellow called Igluff when you were in Kandria?" you ask.

"Igloff," she corrects you. "Igluff means "deliberate". Not very practiced with the language, are you?"

"I make the occasional mistake."

That's odd, though. She identified Igloff's name, but had no reaction to it. Given what he was famous for, you find that a bit surprising.

Harbill Igloff, the man who torched the great library (and did all them murders, supposedly).

Igloff was a famous rebel who claimed credit for burning down Kandria's largest library. Of course, they also blamed various other crimes on him, and you're fairly sure most of those weren't his work, if only on the basis that if he did everything he was accused of, he wouldn't have time to do anything else.

Most Kandrians either despise him or celebrate him for challenging the corrupt nobles. The library, for instance, was only available to noble families - depending on which version of the story you hear, he either burned the books or stole them away so the masses could have the knowledge.

And this happened just twelve years ago. It's strange that she has no reaction. Even if she left earlier than that, the news spread widely - you even heard about it only a few months later, and you weren't exactly going around looking for gossip.On top of that, she knew enough to correct his name.

Well, maybe she's trying to read you. If you've fled Kandria, you might not be too eager to advertise your feelings about their most famous outlaw.

"I've heard a lot about Igloff - sorry for the mistake - but nothing from someone who was there at the time. Though, I suppose I don't know how long it's been since you lived there."

"I saw the name on a wanted poster when I was making my way out of the country. I didn't care enough to look into it any deeper. I prefer to keep that place far in the back of my mind."

Slight hesitation. You wonder if, perhaps, Igloff played a role in her escape. And does that have anything to do with Sunflower's efforts to smuggle food to Kandria's poor?

"I suppose I can understand. I've heard plenty about that place. A shame - I understand the forests are beautiful."

"They are, but I wasn't about to live in the woods all my life, no matter how nice the wildflowers looked."

She seems annoyed now. This is clearly an unpleasant subject. You wonder if it would be better to keep on it to try and uncover more of whatever she's hiding, or shift topics and hope she's less guarded.

Shift topics, ask about the festival

You decide a change of subject will offer you better opportunities. And even a clumsy effort at it will probably be appreciated.

"So, the holy festival is starting soon."

"So it is," she says grumpily. "Now, don't get me wrong, I've worshipped Nual for years. But my block is full of Alac-worshippers, and they tend to respond to the festival by trying to hold their own celebration. And it goes for all hours of the night."

Alac. The god who created humanity.

"Is this the particular sect who thinks that humanity's greatest creation is alcohol?" you sigh. You had your own dealings with them in your youth.

"That's the one. They aren't usually that bad about it, but they never like it when another god is the focus. Although, I imagine it's worse for greblings during Reth's holy month."

"Yes, I suppose not," you muse. "The worst of them would be especially obnoxious if non-humans were celebrating..."

For just a moment, she has a look of absolute terror on her face. And finally, something about all this is starting to make sense.

"That's enough, Eileen," someone else says, walking up to the two of you. "Why don't you sit down and enjoy the show. I have a few questions for this man."

Before you can continue, the stranger moves their head in a distinctive way.

"Are you new in town?" they ask. They make a gesture.

"I've been here before, but I spent quite a few years away," you reply. You start tapping your foot.

"Well, you're awfully nosy. Hope you're not working for anyone questionable, like Kandria."

"I suppose that depends on who you think is questionable," you reply. You reach into your pocket for the crest...

...and it's gone. Damn! Some pickpocket must have grabbed it off of you. You curse yourself for your carelessness.

But the more immediate problem is how you're going to convince the informant that you're here at Flame's behest without it.

Hint at knowledge you possess that would be enticing to someone who makes their living as an information broker. You just need to be intriguing (and nonthreatening) enough that they'll talk plainly with you somewhere safe from eavesdroppers.

Maybe you need to think a little more broadly. This person deals in information. Perhaps you can get a good talk with them if you convince them you know something potent they don't.

Which you probably do. You're from the future - you have some sense of what's going to happen. The thing is, most of your memories of this time are focused on yourself, so any prediction you made would take a few days, if not a few years, to come true.

But maybe if you make the right prediction - some outcome that would be possible, but difficult, to know in advance - that will do the job. Maybe they'll be curious enough about how you know that you can get a conversation out of that.

Wait - you might just remember something. There was a big fuss about some matter right after the festival ended. Something involving the town's mayor, you think?

Hells, why aren't the details coming together? This is your best shot. You concentrate and try to recall what it was.