The Stained Tower

Laying on a silver table in the frozen room of the BDP tavern, I stare at the blue wall, confirming my selection of the ‘Compliments to the Chef’ skill extension as well as the ‘Amateur Flavor Sleuth’ extension I have already seen.

I spent a while thinking about which skill extension would provide me with the most benefit. ‘Cream of the Crop’ simply seemed like a novelty, and I am in need of necessities, so I eliminated it quickly. That only left ‘Compliments to the Chef’ and ‘Spice Scale.’

At first, ‘Spice Scale’ seemed the obvious choice, but I realized the information it affords me would oftentimes be too little too late. To receive the information, I must consume a part of a creature to reveal its strength, which more times than naught, suggests I have already defeated it.

So I shifted my attention to Compliments to the Chef and began to recognize its true potential. As time passes, I will be coming across many other Kiln, and this extension gives me a peek into their character. That goes for everyone too, not simply Kiln. It could genuinely reveal a lot about a person or Kiln, and that’s more useful to me than ‘that creature is stronger or that creature is weaker.’

Ice and tables wobble as a muffled explosion in a distant part of the city vibrates the room. Ignoring this, I turn over and stare at the silver ceiling covered in icicles.

Despite the potential of Compliments to the Chef, I still hesitated to select it over Spice Scale. At least until I chatted with Earl and ate some more bits of the Wretched Rat to better understand how Flavor Sleuth worked. Essentially, if someone is of comparable strength they may appear on it. If someone is not, then they do not. Therefore, if I cannot see their name, there is a chance that they are stronger than me; that’s already a portion of Spice Scale’s effects. In a way, the Cosmic System is inadvertently giving me more valuable information by not giving me their names.

Someone knocks on the door. “Fairy, ya in there?” I hear Lorcan ask outside the door. “ Man, did you feel that explosion? The military’s dropping those fuckin’ bombs closer than usual tonight.”

‘I am, but I am eating and thinking.’ Reaching for a piece of ice, I toss it at the barred door that leads into this room. With a thunk, it strikes the door and bounces off.

“I guess that means you are.” He laughs and continues, “Hey, listen, I sorta need to go do this laundry, and you’ve got this Cog thing out here already. You’ll be alright if I head out? Two taps for yes and one for no.”

Picking up two pieces of ice, I throw them at the door. ‘Until the morrow.’

“Gotcha.” He knocks on the door twice, and I hear him spin on his heel. “I’ll see ya!”

Glancing at a vine full of sharp thorns that lie upon a frozen table, I reach over with the cattail and draw it into the twisting black haze. 

A purple wall appears, along with a sweet feeling.

The wall’s contents confirm something I was uncertain about until this moment. ‘Aye, so Cian is the Brier Kiln, and based on the other walls, Mithridates is the Fly Kiln.’ My eyes drift to the bottom three sentences. ‘And that is how the compliments work.’

I extend the cattail and consume a tiny piece of what’s left of the Wretched Rat.

A purple wall appears alongside a comforting savory feeling.

The compliments are interesting, but my attention fixes upon Mithridates’s name below the ‘Suspected Chef’ portion of the wall. ‘Mithridates’s name is situated directly beneath mine. His contribution to the Wretched Rat’s creation is considered as vital as my own.’

I push away the purple walls and resume gazing at the ceiling.

Summarizing everything I have learned with Flavor Sleuth: The Mushroom Kiln’s name did not appear, so they are likely stronger than I am now. Mithridates had something significant to do with the Wretched Rat’s creation. Lastly, there’s a fourth name that I cannot read, meaning at least one other unknown party was involved in my attack and ambush a few weeks ago.

I raise a piece of the departed Wretched Rat’s tail over my head and twirl it above me. ‘Everything is complicated per usual….’

More time passes.

---

I do not know how long I was staring at the ceiling in the icy room, but when I step outside, I discover the sun has slipped beyond the horizon, and the nearby camp is quiet.

The door squeaks as I close it with a clunk after which I scribble a message on a piece of sticky paper. “Thief! Someone stole almost all of the carcasses! Curse them! But do not worry thyself, I shall report it to the Mistress, and we shall handle this scandalous matter personally!” 

Removing the sticky paper, I slap it against the door with a heavy thunk. Some snow tumbles from the rooftop and into a snowdrift. ‘I regret nothing that happened in there. There is no need to feel shameful; I would and will do it again. Verily, I might even gift the BDP every creature I intend to eat henceforth.’

I spin on my heel and peer off into the distance. There I can see the glimmering apex of my Tower, poking above the trees and illuminated in light blue moonlight. The Tower is beautiful, I adore it, I have a connection to it that is hard to describe, and I have hardly had time to occupy or explore its full potential. 

My gaze drifts to the left, toward where the Sheep Meadow camps are located. In the sky above the camp, there is the gray smoke of warm fires wafting through the air. The people below are there dreaming of the fire’s gentle crackle. That may sound peaceful, yet the fact is, the camps are a mess. There are problems with food, rubbish, sickness, heat, medicine, crime, beasts, hints of lethargy from leeching, everything that there could be problems with. It’s not a surprise. This is merely what happens when this amount of people are summoned to a place unprepared to support them. The only thing supporting it is Terra and a few groups that are only interested in tokens.

I look toward the tall, stone city. Sometimes the city’s lit, other times it’s pitch-black. [1] The same issues that plague the camps are plaguing the city as well, and last I heard, this has caused us to accumulate another seven thousand people in only the last few days. These new people are not like the original Pilgrims either. They are here out of desperation; in other words, they do not care about the Tower. Those people only want stability and safety.

These are the sort of subjects that crossed my mind after I ran out of food. I am stretched thin, and things are worsening; I require time to focus and complete a few things.

My feet crunch in the snow as I march out from behind the BDP’s tavern and take aim for the Terrace. After seeing Mithridates putrid Domain spreading, I realized it’s time for me to place my own Nodes. Frankly, not doing so sooner has been a tad negligent on my part.

“Yo,” someone says, disrupting the calm of the nighttide. [2]

I pause and glance to my left, finding two men in heavy jackets sitting atop a brick railing—Lorcan and Hoarse. 

Tilting my head, I walk over. ‘I thought Lorcan departed, and where did Hoarse come from? I have not seen him since I awakened.’

When I get close, I can see Lorcan is still sitting with the bag of clothing he took from his mother’s room earlier. In his hand, he holds the magical item ‘sandwich’ except this one seems to almost be all bread. Next to him sits a big brown bottle that reads, ‘Hillside Bourbon.’

With my sticky paper, I write, “Hast thou been here waiting the whole time?”

Reading, he shakes his head. “Nah, I tried to find a place to do laundry, but all the pipes are frozen. After wandering around with a bag of clothes for a few hours, I got pretty frustrated, so I went and got a bottle of bourbon. Then I ran into Hoarse here.”

Hoarse nods, and with shaking hands, he raises what resembles a rolled cigarette. Putting it to his pale lips, he closes his eyes and takes a long breath while bouncing his leg up and down.

“Don’t mind him. He just got back from an ‘End of New York’ party, so he’s a bit wound up.” Lorcan raises a brown bag and shakes it at me. “What about you though, are you hungry? You were in there for a while, so I’m sure you haven’t eaten in hours.”

I write, “Aye, I am rather famished, so I thank thee,” and then take the bag.

“What you did for me earlier was pretty cool, so it’s no problem. Oh, and before you ask, I’m not smoking what he’s smoking. I’m just regular hungry.”

Hoarse exhales a long breath of thick white smoke into the cold night air. “Man, she probably doesn’t even know what you’re talking about. Besides, even if she did...” Pausing, he stares at the snow for a moment before nodding and finishing his sentence, “...I’m sure she wouldn’t care. Fairies are supposed to be all about plants and shit.”

“They’re also supposed to be six inches tall and have wings, so I wouldn’t assume anything. Plus, ma, would be pretty upset if she found out I was smoking.” He laughs. “That’s why I drink instead.”

Looking at Hoarse, who seems to be in a daze, I write, “This ‘End of New York’ gathering, did something happen there?”

“Just… just some house cleaning. There was a… a rat problem,” Hoarse says, putting the cigarette to his lips. “Seems like there’s a lot more too.”

Lorcan sighs. “He was with Galtry making sure it was going well. Now he’s sorta spacing out a bit.”

“That’s where she is? What is she doing?” I write.

“Well, yeah, she’s sort of y’know….” He pauses and then shakes his head. “Ehh, we probably shouldn’t talk about it. It’s already over, and it’s not a very wise or fun conversation to have out loud.” 

Blowing thick smoke from his nostrils, Hoarse nods. “Yeah, I’d just like to talk about something else.”

There’s a bang, the sky is briefly illuminated, and lumps of snow fall from the surrounding tree branches as another explosion occurs in the north of the city. ‘Something so powerful, and they still cannot hold back the tide of Kiln, beasts, and monsters.’

“Well, ignoring the loudest light show of all time, I want to talk about...” He pours some of the light brown liquid into a small glass and nudges the bag of clothing with his foot. “...how to hand wash laundry.”

‘I did toil as a washerwoman for a short harvest season in London. Though...’ I scrutinize the delicate, white clothing in the rubbish bag. ‘...I do not think such thin fabric is hardy enough to be washed how I do it, and I doubt they would appreciate me staining them with wood ash.’

Thinking for a moment, I write, “Thou shall require a tub for the wash water, a bat to assist wringing the water, and a hearth adjacent to a drying rack. If thou wish to knowest more, I recommend the topic be pursued with someone else.”

“A bat? Yeah, this is starting to sound more involved than even what I thought. Kinda sucks, not being able to look up videos on the internet for this sort of crap.” He tosses back the tiny glass, swallows, and exhales a long breath. “Plus, there’s not much running or nonessential water, and the Lake has fuckin’ monsters in it. I guess there are a few ponds and the reservoir around, except the ice is like five inches deep. Then, if I find a way to deal with the water, I’ll still need to drag a tub someplace that I can boil water, keep the water from freezing, and lastly, dry damn laundry on a rack.”

Hoarse rubs his eyes while nodding along to Lorcan’s words. “I think Galtry might have a warehouse full of propane and wood stashed away somewhere. Could ask her.”

“It’s not difficult to find that kinda stuff yet; all you need to do is dip into an abandoned store or something. It’s just, like, shit. It's a whole day’s hassle for only a couple loads of laundry.”

Watching the man who is just trying his best to adjust to his new situation and take care of his mother, a thought crosses my mind. ‘I could actually help Lorcan by giving him Proximo’s pickaxe on loan. The flint that it’s crafted out of is hot enough that I decided to remove my arc suit before picking it up. I cannot imagine it would have much trouble heating a tub of cold water. ...But is that a good idea? Giving someone a Kiln’s weapon on loan. It is just sitting there, and it could stoke more goodwill from Lorcan.’

Removing the top-most sticky paper, I stuff it in my pouch and then write, “Visit the Gate of the Rich and Destitute tomorrow, and there shall be an item waiting for thee that can assist with thy problem.”

His gaze drifts across my note, causing him to raise an eyebrow. “I mean, I can’t say no to something as mysterious as ‘an item’ from a Fairy.”

With a laugh, Hoarse asks, “But what if it’s a cursed item that she’s giving to you on a whim or something? Y’know, something that’s way too powerful for what you actually need it for, and it ruins your life or something.”

Lorcan looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not cursed, probably. Thou will recognize what it is,” I write.

“Recognize it…?” Thinking for a moment, he nods. “Oh, yeah, I think I might know what you’re gonna give me. I’ll double-check with Galtry before taking it, but I appreciate it, Fairy.”

Just as he finishes speaking, I hear a click and the rush of wind. Looking above me, I see the last remaining clicker, spinning in a circle and searching the area for danger. ‘Aye. I suppose Gary was distracted. Now that I think about it, Gary has not had his scouting orb around. I wonder where it is.’

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Hoarse says, gesturing behind me.

Turning around, I see the familiar figure surrounded by the snowy trees and moonlight. {Terra! How hast thou fared these past few days?}

She hesitates; I can see a shudder in her eyes. {Yeah, I’m okay. What about you? You didn’t get hurt, did you?}

My back stiffens. I never actually notified Terra of my expedition plan because I could not find her in time.

I wave the sandwich bag around. {I do not know why I would be hurt. I simply…} 

{Constance, I already know. I ran into Lincoln and Pierce, dragging a few clickers covered in fly guts on a sled.} She gestures at Sheep Meadow. {I also walked into the medical tent just in time to see a worm being pulled from someone’s cheek. Connecting the pieces wasn’t hard.} 

Dropping my arms, I glance at Lorcan and Hoarse who are staring at us and then shrug. {...Aye, I am fine. I appreciate thy concern, and I hope thee art not upset with me.}

{Obviously, you can do those types of things without consulting me beforehand.} Her eyes become fixed, and her tone scary. {Just make sure you always come back.}

I nod. {Of course. I could not abandon thee now.}

“Hey, how the fuck do you guys talk to each other?” Hoarse asks with a dry laugh. “Like, man, I just…” He starts laughing before he finishes.

Narrowing her eyes, Terra stares at Hoarse and Lorcan. “Should you really be wasting your time getting drunk and high?”

“O-oh, I’m not smoking.” Lorcan clears his throat and stands. “Welp, I think it might be my bedtime. I’ll drag Hoarse’s ass out of here too.”

Terra looks at the clicker floating above my head. “You’re dismissed. I’ll take care of it from here.”

The clicker sits for a second and then beeps before floating away and toward Sheep Meadow.

When it’s gone, Terra points at Lorcan with chiding eyes. “You know what tomorrow is, right?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be gettin’ my own official crew tomorrow.” 

“You understand that the Headsman Bylaw will be triggered tomorrow when they realize their superior is gone? You know what that means, right?”

“Sure, we’ve talked about it before,” Lorcan responds, rubbing the back of his neck. “And, I’ve been a mover and an alley runner for a while, so I know it.”

Terra crosses her arms and watches the wobbly figure of Lorcan. Her face turns red. “Tell it to Fairy then. She’s probably curious.”

He nods and looks at me. “The Headsman Bylaw states that if a direct superior gets whacked, and there are suspicions of a renegade, subordinate members are to report to and begin taking orders from the highest authority that’s accessible to them. That authority, whoever they may be, becomes the ‘headsman’...” Glancing at Terra, he gestures at her, and continues, “...or the ‘headswoman.’ That person is then responsible for assigning the group a new leader. After which, they’ll all try to hunt down the traitor. If they catch them, and they always do, the headsman or headswoman is expected to then make an example of the renegades before, finally, living up to their title.”

Pursing her lips, her face regains its normal color as she says, “Not bad for an aspiring drunkard, I guess.”

“Thanks for the compliment, Boss,” Lorcan mutters with a smirk.

Terra’s eyes drift to me as she swaps from speaking aloud to speaking in my head. {Anyway, as Lorcan said, it's a very special bylaw that only comes into effect when there is a suspected renegade. Such circumstances are obviously a huge concern in a crime syndicate, and the worst thing that could happen is the traitor investigating themselves. So to try and prevent that, The Headsman Bylaw operates under the presumption that the traitor is unlikely to be in the upper tiers of the hierarchy and that, I, Galtry herself, will be sequestered.}

I glance at Terra and then point. {Except thou art not sequestered.}

{That’s right, and I am technically the highest authority in the syndicate. So, in the morning, they’ll find their superiors indisposed, and they'll start looking for someone to report to. Since ordinary cell phones aren't working, they'll have to actually find someone. I’ll take advantage of both that and the bylaw’s presumption of my sequester to make sure they find me tomorrow. After calming things down, I’ll hand leadership of that branch to Lorcan, placing it under my command and gaining me a tangible foothold.}

I nod, thinking through everything I have been told. ‘Headswoman... An executioner... Indisposed... Terra might have done something that could be scarring, but there was one phrase in Lorcan’s words that I am not familiar with.’ I stare into Terra’s eyes, searching for any hint of her inner emotion. ‘I am fairly certain of its meaning, but I should assume nothing.’

As discreet a tone as I can manage, I question, {What does it mean for a superior to be ‘whacked?’}

Terra’s eyes shudder, and her expression stiffens. “...Lorcan, you better not drink another drop of alcohol tonight. Get out of here, take Hoarse with you, and go sleep it off. I want to spend some time with Fairy alone.”

With a nod, Lorcan nudges Hoarse’s shoulder. “Gotcha, Boss.” Picking up the bag of clothes, he continues, “I’ll be ready for my first day as a lieutenant after breakfast tomorrow. Doubt the ol’co-workers are gonna be very welcoming, though.”

“Oh, yeah, and it’ll be my first day as a street captain too.” Hoarse stands and follows behind Lorcan. “Man, my mouth is so dry. ...Oh, hey. Since you’re grounded, can I have the rest of your bourbon?” I hear him ask as the pair disappear toward Sheep Meadow.

A frown spreads across Terra’s face, and her shoulders droop. {Hey, can we take a walk together? I could really use a walk.}

{Aye.} I gesture in the Tower and Terrace’s direction. {I was about to do just that, so prithee, join me.} 

{...Thank you.}