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Proper introductions are made, and we then wait a few minutes at the railing until a table clears, silence between the three of us. For once, even Alienne is quiet, though this appears to be more a matter of examining the arse on a passing Seeker woman than out of any sense of pensiveness. I'll take whatever opportunity I can get for something that appears respectful, and Heidolf seems more eager to talk only once he's seated. Besides, it is a nice arse, I must admit.
Finally, a table opens near the center edge of the Quicksand, and Alienne vaults over the rail to claim it before anyone else can. Our customer and I follow suit shortly after. Aya approaches and offers our drinks. It's the usual for me, and she is of course happy to make me suffer through qiqirn firewater at my request, it being the worst drink, in her opinion, and an ale for Alienne and Heidolf.
Only after she has half-skipped towards another table does the man seem willing to speak. The desperation of his request has faded to something subdued, the initial burst of emotion seeming more like a frightened animal peeking out of its hiding-hole now, only to retreat for fear of capture. He folds his hands together, coughs and shuffles. "Well, ah, if you know Burning Edge, personally - "
"Does he ever!" Alienne interrupts. I shoot her a glare, and she makes a buttoning motion near her lips, falling silent.
"In the interests of full disclosure, I've been out of contact with her for some moons now. But yes, I know her outside her role as a former arena fighter, if that's what you mean."
There's relief on his face, but the rest of him remains tightly wound, and he leans forward in his seat. "Good. That's good. I mean, people knew where she was when she was trading debts, but she seemed to have fallen off the shores once she got of the business. If you know where she might be - "
I hold up a hand. "I might," I lie, "That's so. If you're asking me to put you in contact with her, I could. But she had debts of her own, did she not? I would hate to have people pursuing her only to make nuisances of themselves."
Aya returns with the drinks. Their ales look quite pleasant in comparison to the horrific smell coming from the metal thimble she sets in front of him, an odor noxious and sharp enough that it feels as if my beard is curling. I don't think I'm quite ready to drink it yet, and it's a good thing that she's seen the effects of it often enough that she doesn't stay to watch, taking her payment and a generous tip.
"All that said, why don't you tell me why you need to find her? Without the shirt, and the axe, and the - " I pause. "Well, it's easy for a man of your particular tribe to appear menacing given the last two points, you must admit. You have the look of a collector."
He nods as I speak, "That's so. The shirt, well, it was just hotter than I like out tonight. As f'r the axe . . . " He sighs. "There's a story to that. All right. You know Burning Edge. How much do you know about her last match?"
"What she's told me," I say, gripping the thimble like it's the trigger of a gunblade and I'm not quite ready to pull. "It ended her career rather decisively."
"Not just hers." Heidolf says this with something between a snort and a sigh. "Next question - have you ever heard of Tristram the Treant?"
The name escapes me, and I'm about to say so when Alienne pipes up. "Oh, yeah, I heard'a that guy! Fella on one've my old ships had his pitcher all done up on the wall. Weren't he like eight fulm or something?"
"Thereabouts. Big fellow, uncommon large for an elezen in height and weight. Strong, too. Good win record, few losses. Tended to get used in gimmick fights, you know - see who was strong and brave enough to best the blessed of the Shroud, he gifted with the power of the trees . . . " Heidolf trails off, lost in memory, before recalling his location. "Let me get to it then. Proper introduction. Heidolf Hexte, and good to meet you, ser. Cycles back, I was Tristram's trainer."
His name doesn't ring a bell, but I am not overly familiar with the particulars of gladiatorial management from so long ago, at least where such information does not appear in my memoirs, and his name does not. But I can see where he is going with this, at least a little. "A pleasure ser. And from the preamble, may I be so bold as to presume that Burning's last match was one such 'gimmick' fight against your man Tristram?"
Heidolf's knuckles turn white around the handle of his mug. "He had a temper," he said. "He wasn't dumb - everybody thought he was dumb, you know, as big as he was and how we advertised him, but he was a clever thinker, good strategist. There was still that temper, though, and sometimes the wrong hit the wrong way could make him lose his cool. Even that wasn't a problem in his matches; he'd get mad, knock the opponent down, they'd yield, that'd be that, the Treant standing in triumph. That's just how it went.
"I don't know what it was about that match. It was the usual beforehand, the usual organizations and promotions and threats and such. Maybe it was the look in her face. Maybe she smirked the wrong way, or mayhaps he fancied her and he couldn't stand the humiliation. I don't know. But she got a good hit just so - " He reaches out with the side of one hand to tap against the side of my forehead from across the table. "There, right against his helm. Dazing blow, nothing serious. And he lost his temper. Bashed her face in with a shield and was near to tearing her arm off even after she yielded."
Here is where I take my drink, as much to chase off the thought of Burning in her prime with her arm nearly gone as to give the man a moment to collect himself. Qiqirn firewater is a good way of clearing the mind of unpleasant thoughts, as well as the stomach and bowels of their respective contents, but I have a strong enough taste for the stuff that all that happens is a profuse coughing fit and the liquidation of the contents of my nostrils. Â
My distraction gives Alienne a chance to speak, and she kicks her legs onto the table and drains her mug. A bit spills out past her lips. "Yeah, I hear ya, that's rough, ain't it Mr. V?" she says as she wipes off her mouth. "So you want us to go kick this tree guy's ass? I dunno if we do that kinda thing."
"We - we don't, Alienne. I don't think that's what he wants. Is that so, Ser Hexte?"
"No! No, not at all. Things just got worse for Tristram from there. Burning's career was over after that match, and it's not like there hadn't been countless deaths in the Coliseum, but even so, after that nobody trusted him to face their fighters. People thought he was either too dumb or too mad. We tried to do exhibitions, feats of strength, sideshows before the main event, you know, but - people just thought he was too much of a brute for the bloodsands after that. That match ended two careers.
"He fell out of the circuit. Didn't have any family back in the Shroud, so he took to laboring around the city. Took to smoking, you know." A pointed look in Verad's direction. "Started getting in fight, bad ones. It was, ah, I don't know - it was like a mummer so used to being in one part in a play that he was playing it all the time."
Suddenly possessed of the urge to sneeze, I fish for my kerchief within the confines of my vest. "I think I can relate to that. You didn't try to give him a hand?"
Heidolf lowers his head and glances away from the table. One has to read his eyes carefully, I've noticed. A slight flash here or there gives away more than his physical movements. That they are downcast here, at all, says much. "As much as I could, over the years. But my own reputation was harmed as well. Couldn't handle my fighters, people said, so my means were pretty mean. I helped him out with work and gil where I could, checked in on him the same. 'S why I'm here.
"Past few moons when I've looked in he's been odd. He - "
"He didn't happen to pick up one of those relics, did he?" I share a glance across the table with Alienne, who nods. Another rearing up of that problem is quite unwelcome.
"What? No, nothing like that. It's just like he's been obsessed with Burning. He didn't seem to mind much that he'd lost the match when it was done, years ago, but it's been all he's been talking about. Buying up old posters and match info. I thought he was just reminscing, but the more I talk to him the more it's like . . . "
He rubs his hand over the back of his head. "It's like he forgot. Like everything that happened from the match to now just vanished and he's been fixated on doing this one thing he recalls, clear as a mirror. Like he knows he has to beat Burning again, but he can't find her, so he's snapping up all he can. And I think somebody's making him think that way, teasing him into doing it.
"And that's bad enough, sure, but he's been getting into fights again, and I think the wrong kind. I went to his flat and his hands were bloodied down to the knuckles. Thought somebody was supplying him something new, so I came here hoping to maybe scare up a somnus dealer and put the hurt out. And then there you were, Ser Bellveil. And now we're here."
He falls silent. I don't speak. Alienne's look is quite puzzled. "Ah, you know, this sounds real complicated and stuff. I mean meaning no disresprect, Mr. H, but I betcha I can put you in touch with a hooker lady who looks just like her if you let - "
"What do you need me to do?"
"What? Come on, Mr. V, you don't wanna - "
"We're interested. I can set you up with our rates for our Dubious Detection services if need be." Alienne tries to interrupt again, but I lean forward. "If you need assistance, Ser Hexte, I will provide it to the best of my ability." Eyes straight ahead, elbow on the table, my attention focused on him entirely. I will not let her stop this.
"I just - if you know Burning Edge, then find her, please. Bring her here, and maybe we can show Tristram it's over. The match is done. If it's something in his somnus and there's no bringing him back, that's life. But if that will push his memory, then I'll take the chance."
I smile. "I am at your service." If my hands are shaking, or my grin is a little forced, I think I can attribute that to the firewater. Fortunately, nobody comments.
---
We arrange for payments as Aya clears away our drinks. Heidolf is not a rich man, but he has at least a little money saved, and I don't require much in the way of compensation, especially given the circumstances. In the end, he decides to leave me with the poster - it was just a means of jogging Tristram's memory, and no more, it seemed, rather than a purchase made out of actual enthusiasm for Miss Edge's career. No matter. I consider this a sale made, and one well-earned.
A shake of the hand and he leaves the tavern to his own business. Alienne is sharp enough to wait until he's out of earshot.
"Mr. V, this is a real, real bad idea," she says, pursing her lips. "Yer gonna get yourself kidnapped again you keep poking your nose in things, and then ain't nobody gonna pay me."
"It's fine, Alienne," I reply, signalling for Aya's attention. "He just needs us to find a person, that's all. Besides, since the good Gentleman Inspector left the city, the detecting business has been an open market. High time we took a try at it, don't you agree?"
"Okay, yeah, that's fine, but you oughta make An or that new girl or the reporter lady do the work, you know? You ain't gotta do it yourself on account of you get your ass kicked a lot."
"I hardly need to do that at all. You're here with me, are you not? And if not you, there's no shortage of people who can assist me. The people at the estate, friends in the Sworn and the Flames . . . why, even Miss Foxheart might be willing if I asked." I hold one hand to my chest and the other up in the air. "I solemnly swear in the name of Oschon to abide by the Martyrdom Clause for the duration of this. I shall follow well-traveled roads, and stay well on the beaten path. All right?"
She folds her arms and huffs. "Fine. So how you wanna do this?"
What should Verad do next?
1. The simplest way to handle this is to do what Heidolf asks and seek out Burning Edge. What's more, she might be able to tell me more about this final match and fill in details Heidolf could have missed. When last we had spoken she was a dockworker at Vesper Bay. It just so happens that I have a certain connection there which could make finding her very simple indeed.
2. But if Heidolf is wrong, and Burning Edge isn't going to be enough to jog his memories, I should try to look into other avenues of inquiry surrounding Tristram. Who is he, and who does he associate with in the present? Most importantly, what is this drug that might have damaged his memories?
3. Alienne's caution is prudent here; let's take it a step farther and inquire as to Heidolf's own story. We have his version of events; it may be helpful to stop by the Gladiator's Guild and see how they match to the facts.
Who should Verad take with him?
A. Alienne has done quite well so far, and while her outbursts can derail a conversation, her brawn will compliment my everything else quite nicely. No sense in changing horsebirds midstream.
B. Miss Foxheart has a work schedule that can be quite demanding, but she is intelligent, charming, and capable. Unfortunately, she's also highly recognizable as the best waitress in the Quicksand, so she may draw more attention than is necessary.
C. If I'm looking for information, there's nobody better than Spahro Llorn. If I'm looking to cause a riot, however, there's also nobody better than Spahro Llorn. Plus the whole thing might get publicized if she finds it interesting enough.
D. Write in a person here. Beware of inaccurate portrayals through the self-serving power of Verad-O-Vision.
Proper introductions are made, and we then wait a few minutes at the railing until a table clears, silence between the three of us. For once, even Alienne is quiet, though this appears to be more a matter of examining the arse on a passing Seeker woman than out of any sense of pensiveness. I'll take whatever opportunity I can get for something that appears respectful, and Heidolf seems more eager to talk only once he's seated. Besides, it is a nice arse, I must admit.
Finally, a table opens near the center edge of the Quicksand, and Alienne vaults over the rail to claim it before anyone else can. Our customer and I follow suit shortly after. Aya approaches and offers our drinks. It's the usual for me, and she is of course happy to make me suffer through qiqirn firewater at my request, it being the worst drink, in her opinion, and an ale for Alienne and Heidolf.
Only after she has half-skipped towards another table does the man seem willing to speak. The desperation of his request has faded to something subdued, the initial burst of emotion seeming more like a frightened animal peeking out of its hiding-hole now, only to retreat for fear of capture. He folds his hands together, coughs and shuffles. "Well, ah, if you know Burning Edge, personally - "
"Does he ever!" Alienne interrupts. I shoot her a glare, and she makes a buttoning motion near her lips, falling silent.
"In the interests of full disclosure, I've been out of contact with her for some moons now. But yes, I know her outside her role as a former arena fighter, if that's what you mean."
There's relief on his face, but the rest of him remains tightly wound, and he leans forward in his seat. "Good. That's good. I mean, people knew where she was when she was trading debts, but she seemed to have fallen off the shores once she got of the business. If you know where she might be - "
I hold up a hand. "I might," I lie, "That's so. If you're asking me to put you in contact with her, I could. But she had debts of her own, did she not? I would hate to have people pursuing her only to make nuisances of themselves."
Aya returns with the drinks. Their ales look quite pleasant in comparison to the horrific smell coming from the metal thimble she sets in front of him, an odor noxious and sharp enough that it feels as if my beard is curling. I don't think I'm quite ready to drink it yet, and it's a good thing that she's seen the effects of it often enough that she doesn't stay to watch, taking her payment and a generous tip.
"All that said, why don't you tell me why you need to find her? Without the shirt, and the axe, and the - " I pause. "Well, it's easy for a man of your particular tribe to appear menacing given the last two points, you must admit. You have the look of a collector."
He nods as I speak, "That's so. The shirt, well, it was just hotter than I like out tonight. As f'r the axe . . . " He sighs. "There's a story to that. All right. You know Burning Edge. How much do you know about her last match?"
"What she's told me," I say, gripping the thimble like it's the trigger of a gunblade and I'm not quite ready to pull. "It ended her career rather decisively."
"Not just hers." Heidolf says this with something between a snort and a sigh. "Next question - have you ever heard of Tristram the Treant?"
The name escapes me, and I'm about to say so when Alienne pipes up. "Oh, yeah, I heard'a that guy! Fella on one've my old ships had his pitcher all done up on the wall. Weren't he like eight fulm or something?"
"Thereabouts. Big fellow, uncommon large for an elezen in height and weight. Strong, too. Good win record, few losses. Tended to get used in gimmick fights, you know - see who was strong and brave enough to best the blessed of the Shroud, he gifted with the power of the trees . . . " Heidolf trails off, lost in memory, before recalling his location. "Let me get to it then. Proper introduction. Heidolf Hexte, and good to meet you, ser. Cycles back, I was Tristram's trainer."
His name doesn't ring a bell, but I am not overly familiar with the particulars of gladiatorial management from so long ago, at least where such information does not appear in my memoirs, and his name does not. But I can see where he is going with this, at least a little. "A pleasure ser. And from the preamble, may I be so bold as to presume that Burning's last match was one such 'gimmick' fight against your man Tristram?"
Heidolf's knuckles turn white around the handle of his mug. "He had a temper," he said. "He wasn't dumb - everybody thought he was dumb, you know, as big as he was and how we advertised him, but he was a clever thinker, good strategist. There was still that temper, though, and sometimes the wrong hit the wrong way could make him lose his cool. Even that wasn't a problem in his matches; he'd get mad, knock the opponent down, they'd yield, that'd be that, the Treant standing in triumph. That's just how it went.
"I don't know what it was about that match. It was the usual beforehand, the usual organizations and promotions and threats and such. Maybe it was the look in her face. Maybe she smirked the wrong way, or mayhaps he fancied her and he couldn't stand the humiliation. I don't know. But she got a good hit just so - " He reaches out with the side of one hand to tap against the side of my forehead from across the table. "There, right against his helm. Dazing blow, nothing serious. And he lost his temper. Bashed her face in with a shield and was near to tearing her arm off even after she yielded."
Here is where I take my drink, as much to chase off the thought of Burning in her prime with her arm nearly gone as to give the man a moment to collect himself. Qiqirn firewater is a good way of clearing the mind of unpleasant thoughts, as well as the stomach and bowels of their respective contents, but I have a strong enough taste for the stuff that all that happens is a profuse coughing fit and the liquidation of the contents of my nostrils. Â
My distraction gives Alienne a chance to speak, and she kicks her legs onto the table and drains her mug. A bit spills out past her lips. "Yeah, I hear ya, that's rough, ain't it Mr. V?" she says as she wipes off her mouth. "So you want us to go kick this tree guy's ass? I dunno if we do that kinda thing."
"We - we don't, Alienne. I don't think that's what he wants. Is that so, Ser Hexte?"
"No! No, not at all. Things just got worse for Tristram from there. Burning's career was over after that match, and it's not like there hadn't been countless deaths in the Coliseum, but even so, after that nobody trusted him to face their fighters. People thought he was either too dumb or too mad. We tried to do exhibitions, feats of strength, sideshows before the main event, you know, but - people just thought he was too much of a brute for the bloodsands after that. That match ended two careers.
"He fell out of the circuit. Didn't have any family back in the Shroud, so he took to laboring around the city. Took to smoking, you know." A pointed look in Verad's direction. "Started getting in fight, bad ones. It was, ah, I don't know - it was like a mummer so used to being in one part in a play that he was playing it all the time."
Suddenly possessed of the urge to sneeze, I fish for my kerchief within the confines of my vest. "I think I can relate to that. You didn't try to give him a hand?"
Heidolf lowers his head and glances away from the table. One has to read his eyes carefully, I've noticed. A slight flash here or there gives away more than his physical movements. That they are downcast here, at all, says much. "As much as I could, over the years. But my own reputation was harmed as well. Couldn't handle my fighters, people said, so my means were pretty mean. I helped him out with work and gil where I could, checked in on him the same. 'S why I'm here.
"Past few moons when I've looked in he's been odd. He - "
"He didn't happen to pick up one of those relics, did he?" I share a glance across the table with Alienne, who nods. Another rearing up of that problem is quite unwelcome.
"What? No, nothing like that. It's just like he's been obsessed with Burning. He didn't seem to mind much that he'd lost the match when it was done, years ago, but it's been all he's been talking about. Buying up old posters and match info. I thought he was just reminscing, but the more I talk to him the more it's like . . . "
He rubs his hand over the back of his head. "It's like he forgot. Like everything that happened from the match to now just vanished and he's been fixated on doing this one thing he recalls, clear as a mirror. Like he knows he has to beat Burning again, but he can't find her, so he's snapping up all he can. And I think somebody's making him think that way, teasing him into doing it.
"And that's bad enough, sure, but he's been getting into fights again, and I think the wrong kind. I went to his flat and his hands were bloodied down to the knuckles. Thought somebody was supplying him something new, so I came here hoping to maybe scare up a somnus dealer and put the hurt out. And then there you were, Ser Bellveil. And now we're here."
He falls silent. I don't speak. Alienne's look is quite puzzled. "Ah, you know, this sounds real complicated and stuff. I mean meaning no disresprect, Mr. H, but I betcha I can put you in touch with a hooker lady who looks just like her if you let - "
"What do you need me to do?"
"What? Come on, Mr. V, you don't wanna - "
"We're interested. I can set you up with our rates for our Dubious Detection services if need be." Alienne tries to interrupt again, but I lean forward. "If you need assistance, Ser Hexte, I will provide it to the best of my ability." Eyes straight ahead, elbow on the table, my attention focused on him entirely. I will not let her stop this.
"I just - if you know Burning Edge, then find her, please. Bring her here, and maybe we can show Tristram it's over. The match is done. If it's something in his somnus and there's no bringing him back, that's life. But if that will push his memory, then I'll take the chance."
I smile. "I am at your service." If my hands are shaking, or my grin is a little forced, I think I can attribute that to the firewater. Fortunately, nobody comments.
---
We arrange for payments as Aya clears away our drinks. Heidolf is not a rich man, but he has at least a little money saved, and I don't require much in the way of compensation, especially given the circumstances. In the end, he decides to leave me with the poster - it was just a means of jogging Tristram's memory, and no more, it seemed, rather than a purchase made out of actual enthusiasm for Miss Edge's career. No matter. I consider this a sale made, and one well-earned.
A shake of the hand and he leaves the tavern to his own business. Alienne is sharp enough to wait until he's out of earshot.
"Mr. V, this is a real, real bad idea," she says, pursing her lips. "Yer gonna get yourself kidnapped again you keep poking your nose in things, and then ain't nobody gonna pay me."
"It's fine, Alienne," I reply, signalling for Aya's attention. "He just needs us to find a person, that's all. Besides, since the good Gentleman Inspector left the city, the detecting business has been an open market. High time we took a try at it, don't you agree?"
"Okay, yeah, that's fine, but you oughta make An or that new girl or the reporter lady do the work, you know? You ain't gotta do it yourself on account of you get your ass kicked a lot."
"I hardly need to do that at all. You're here with me, are you not? And if not you, there's no shortage of people who can assist me. The people at the estate, friends in the Sworn and the Flames . . . why, even Miss Foxheart might be willing if I asked." I hold one hand to my chest and the other up in the air. "I solemnly swear in the name of Oschon to abide by the Martyrdom Clause for the duration of this. I shall follow well-traveled roads, and stay well on the beaten path. All right?"
She folds her arms and huffs. "Fine. So how you wanna do this?"
What should Verad do next?
1. The simplest way to handle this is to do what Heidolf asks and seek out Burning Edge. What's more, she might be able to tell me more about this final match and fill in details Heidolf could have missed. When last we had spoken she was a dockworker at Vesper Bay. It just so happens that I have a certain connection there which could make finding her very simple indeed.
2. But if Heidolf is wrong, and Burning Edge isn't going to be enough to jog his memories, I should try to look into other avenues of inquiry surrounding Tristram. Who is he, and who does he associate with in the present? Most importantly, what is this drug that might have damaged his memories?
3. Alienne's caution is prudent here; let's take it a step farther and inquire as to Heidolf's own story. We have his version of events; it may be helpful to stop by the Gladiator's Guild and see how they match to the facts.
Who should Verad take with him?
A. Alienne has done quite well so far, and while her outbursts can derail a conversation, her brawn will compliment my everything else quite nicely. No sense in changing horsebirds midstream.
B. Miss Foxheart has a work schedule that can be quite demanding, but she is intelligent, charming, and capable. Unfortunately, she's also highly recognizable as the best waitress in the Quicksand, so she may draw more attention than is necessary.
C. If I'm looking for information, there's nobody better than Spahro Llorn. If I'm looking to cause a riot, however, there's also nobody better than Spahro Llorn. Plus the whole thing might get publicized if she finds it interesting enough.
D. Write in a person here. Beware of inaccurate portrayals through the self-serving power of Verad-O-Vision.
Verad Bellveil's Profile | The Case of the Ransacked Rug | Verad's Fate Sheet
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine
![[Image: MBLxxyE.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/MBLxxyE.gif)
