Two weeks I’ve sat and two weeks I’ve watched them pour in and out of a Tavern called the Red Veil situated on the outskirts of town. My limited view provided me with ample cover, but not nearly enough sight to answer all my questions.
I sat, cleaning the pistol that I came to know as my best friend. In the two weeks I’ve sat here, my isolation become my salvation and my path to rapture was crystal clear; no amount of sway could lead my intentions otherwise. Ras brought me food, as he was intent on helping me anyway he could. At first, he would swing by in the morning and drop off some of the local crop – but then he started to take me seriously. Now, he keeps vigil when I rest. We’re both invested.
The Red Veil is a small one story building that has an intricate basement arrangement; I know this because I’ve personally interviewed some of the fine men and women who come and go from the place. While they are open to talk about their experiences, they grow increasingly distant when I ask how to join. It’s become a problem that has ceased my investigatory work to a screaming halt.
Ras met up with some of the local waifs in the area; it took them all but a baguette or jerked meat to get information from them. He discovered that the place was owned by a woman named Astrid, an ex-mercenary to the Ordic navy ranks who served proudly under the 16th Serpent’s Fleet. She as native to Ord, so why be involved with petty break-ins and the murder of innocents like my mother?
The homeless houses seemed to love her though, even as far as calling her the Den-Mother, as she let them shelter in the back of the Veil and even dropped off left overs. She never told them to keep secrets and even invited them in a time or two to get washed up; which I thought was extremely peculiar considering the class of nobles that frequented the place. None-the-less, she had become the glaring flaw that I needed to get in to the place.
Ras and I spent the following week living on the streets and spending what little we had on extorting information out of the waifs. With no new information coming to light and our tired bodies enveloped in to the city streets already, we began sleeping in the back of the Veil. There were times when I thought Ras and I were crazy, or going over board, or times when I wanted to give up. But each night, as I lay in the shadows of the streets outside the Veil and I looked up towards the stars I see her face. It’s etched in the perfect darkness of the cosmos and stays with me when my lids close; becoming the first thing in memory as I wake…