Interlude 1 – Inquisitor Clark
Clark used his walking stick to idly poke at the corpse. A narrow hole had been punched straight through the back of the body and out of the chest. A frown pulled down the corners of his lips; the killer’s methods were familiar to him. In fact, he had travelled to Baytown to keep track of this particular nuisance and her pair of escapees, but she had jumped ship earlier than expected.
The woman had proven both willing and capable of striking down temple personnel across multiple towns. Her continued existence bothered Clark, even though Technis had a plan for her continued existence. The inquisitor knew that it was the personal connection he had with the assassin that bothered him. Nearly three hundred years walking Olympos, and he still hadn’t mastered his emotions.
His hand tightened around his staff. Even if his granddaughter’s evil was part of his master’s plan to pull more otherworldly information from the red-haired otherworlder, Clark still longed to bring her to Technis’ judgement.
He slowly drew breath and forced himself to relax.
Unfortunately, he had been pulled away from his duties by the sudden invasion from the Points and the uprising of the delvers. He had his colleagues to blame for that – there had been some strange happenings near some of the central mountains in the Spine, prompting several overeager inquisitors to raid some Points’ storehouses. That had brought the rebels plans forward by more than a week.
And now, after raiding the local temple, these three people of interest had slipped away. Things would still be fine if they ended up joining the Points – something that Technis’ oracles believed likely because of Bethany’s relationship with the delvers – but if they decided to disappear instead…
Why raid the Baytown temple though? The other sabotage in the town had all been expected, but why raid the storerooms in an out of the way temple? General mayhem? Intelligence gathering? A distraction for something else? He tapped his walking stick against the ground as he worked through the evidence.
“Inquisitor Clark!”
Clark looked at his local guide. The man was calling to him from a few tens of paces away, like a bird that wanted his bread but was too afraid to approach. He was twitching with such agitation that it was driving Clark to distraction.
With a sigh, he meandered over to the spineless helper, an unremarkable hunter who had been glad to volunteer for anything other than the war effort. Despite the man’s agitation, Clark made sure to move slowly and check for any clues that remained in the forest. Haste was wasteful; diligence always payed off. That was his hard-earned mantra, one that he had learned from years executing the plans of his god.
The hunter cleared his throat as Clark drew near. “I’ve found the junior acolytes.”
“I see,” Clark replied. He glanced at the two bodies. It was disappointing that they had been so easily lured into what was an obvious ambush; Clark made a mental note to chastise the local temple for their lack of training.
His guide idly scratched one of his hairy arms. “Should we bury them or something? The vandals’ tracks are only a day or so old, but it’s likely that they’ve reunited with the rest of the Points army. I dunno if it’s worth it to rush after ’em.”
Clark tapped his walking stick a few times. He could hear the faint sarcasm when his guide said the word “rush”. Clark guessed that the uncomplicated man preferred running after prey like some kind of wild animal rather than pausing to think things over. Typical of the average human.
Clark dismissed his guide from his mind and turned his thoughts towards his quarry. Given the timing, it was likely that Bethany and the Points were already working together. But what if they weren’t?
The assassin had been working on her own for years. On the other hand, the vandalism had clearly been done by the two escapees, who were absolute amateurs. They had even failed to properly burn down the temple down in their haste to escape, and hadn’t taken anything of value either.
It looked more like an attack of opportunity than something coordinated with the Points army, done by someone with a grudge against Technis and his clergy. Or perhaps it had been meant to look sloppy, and the assassin’s goal was something else.
Clark huffed with irritation. What mattered was where they would go next. If they were trying to get back to the Points, then an escape along the coast or even on a boat would have been better. If they were trying to get to the delvers though…
The way they had fled was towards one of the delvers’ tunnels. “They must not have known that it was already closed,” he mused to himself. He slowly ground his staff into the dirt as he considered what he knew. They wouldn’t be joining up with the Points army; they were avoiding the fighting.
He nodded with satisfaction. He didn’t know precisely where they would go, but he had a guess. Once he was close enough, he would simply flood the area with Technis’ tracking creations.
Then, perhaps, Technis would finally let him finish them for good. It was apparent to Clark that they were running out of usefulness. He glanced at the agitated hunter. Everyone in Satrap was running out of usefulness, really.
Although, Clark did want to kill those three with his own hands rather than leaving it to chance.
Much to his frustration, he could not spare the time or attention for the pursuit, at least for the moment. His first priority was to aid the local forces in holding the town and the port, thus preventing the Points’ navy from blockading Central Bay and holding off reinforcements from Dominus city. That was the way they had planned the war, so he would have to ensure things progressed accordingly.
After those reinforcements arrived though, Clark would commandeer a full squadron of the church’s enforcers and find Bethany and her little pets.
Then, if Technis allowed it, he would enjoy erasing her from existence.
He wrestled his grin back under control before turning back towards the town. He gestured at his guide to follow as he began the return trek. He would send some acolytes to clean up the mess; perhaps they would learn some caution from the sight.