Crownless Consort-Chapter 48 - : The Hunting

Marris and Lindley stepped through the rainy streets of the undercity, passing by the crowds that packed together like schools of fish as they made their way to the Redroost, a multi-faceted shopping district at the farthest edge of Hale street. From the outside, it looked like any other building, packed against the others tightly, with several more stacked atop it, only accessible from the lattice-like walkways that stretched through the sky of the undercity.

Marris raised his hand, blocking Lindley's entry. He glanced up at the man with a cold expression.

"When we get in there, don't talk to anyone, don't touch anything, don't accept any free drinks, and if anyone's wearing emerald-green, don't glance at them for more than a second. If you bump into them, slit your wrists. It will be faster."

Lindley shivered as they stepped into the shopping district at the edge of Hale street. There was a different air to it, compared to the outer city. A faint smell of iron accompanied the bitter bite of liquor. Smoke wafted through the air, and the floor was soaked in water and mud.

But laughter imbibed the atmosphere, there was a cheeriness blanketing the grimy atmosphere. To many, this was like a home, a haven. It was a place to relax after a long day of work, to gamble and to share stories with friends.

There was a woman in the center of the bustling tavern in the entryway. She had a thick head of flowing red hair, which looked like a strawberry-coloured cloud had set atop her head. She had a blanket of freckles that stretched over her cheeks and nose, and her face was rosy and brilliant, just as joyful as the atmosphere.

Many of the tavern's patrons gathered around her, laughing and throwing coins onto the bar counter afront her as they called for another round of drinks.

"Who's that? The woman they're all crowding around?"

"Ms. Revuarde, from the Redroost. She's a motherly figure here, and also the keeper of the tavern in the entryway. Not in that she provides comfort, but because she keeps order... she's also a mother, but her kids are like nobility. No one would ever mess with them."

"If no one acts up here, then why can't I look at the people dressed in green?"

"Because their leader is Revuarde, Ms. Revuarde's husband. And he's not gentle like his wife. Not staring is a form of respect, and any disrespect isn't tolerated."

"So they're like a mob?"

"They aren't like a mob, they are the mob."

"Then why do we tolerate them?"

"Because we're not f-cking police, Lindley. They're good for the community, anyway. And they pay us."

"We're dirty!?" Lindley exclaimed a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the crowd around them. Marris raised his hand, batting the back of Lindley's head.

"No, because we're not police."

The two entered the back-bar of the Redroost, glancing around at its patrons. Of course, besides the usuals, there were many of those emerald-clad figures Marris had mentioned. Lindley sweated visibly as he took initiative to cut them out of his sight completely.

"Then what are we paid to do?"

"Gather information. Whatever's going on as pertains to the work of the Hunt, Revuarde likes to know. It isn't just the Hunt that Revuarde gathers information from, he takes it from the Archknights, Nobility, all those people in power... for those that don't care about money, he trades information. Everyone wants something, and Revuarde is a middling faculty for that."

"Is that why we're here? To give him information?"

Marris shook his head. "To trade it. If Mahew ran through this part of the undercity, which he would have to get anywhere, then Revuarde probably knows. Printers like him are on constant watch, and Mahew was involved in pretty big endeavours. There's no way he wasn't under Revuarde's watch. We're going to buy it off of him."

"How much money will he want?"

"Weren't you listening? Revuarde has more money than he will ever need. We're going to give him information in exchange."

Lindley's eyebrows creased.

What an uncomfortable situation... isn't this... against the Hunt's standards?

Marris and Lindley walked through the shopping district past the open tavern, eventually coming to two men dressed in green who stood outside a building, guarding whatever lay past the crimson curtains covering the doorway.

"We're here to see Revuarde. We're affiliated with the Hunt."

One of the men raised an eyebrow, looking towards the other, who nodded towards him in agreement. Slowly, they subsided, allowing the two to pass. Marris parted the curtain as he exhaled exhaustedly. His job was taking far too much out of him.

I should just kill myself and rest... or retire...

There were many more emerald-clad figures past the curtain. This was the main hideout of Revuarde's group. It was impossible not to look at these figures, there were just too many of them. But they were guests now, there was no reason to avoid doing so.

And because of that, no one bothered them. They weren't stopped once as they walked through the hall. As long as one gave enough of a reason to be allowed past the guards at the front, it was assumed that they were just meant to be there. After all, Revuarde often had many visitors, usually there to share information or pay for it.

Since business was often conducted, anyone not wearing the green attire of his group were assumed to be customers or patrons.

They passed many such figures as they sought a man lying at the back of the building, in an open room atop a large throne-like seat, surrounded by delicacies and bookshelves with stacks upon stacks of bundled paper.

He leaned on his hand in a bored manner, slouching in his seat. When this man saw Marris approach, his eyes flickered with a slight excitement, his lips curling up.

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"Marris! Whenever you come by, it's a good day!" He spoke in a low, jubulent tone. "What have you come for today?"

Marris was quick to get to business. After all, it had been a week since Mahew had fled his shop. Each passing day increased the chance that they would never be able to find him.

"We're looking for a man, Revuarde. That printer, Mahew. I know you know him, I'm also sure you know where he currently is. What do you want for the details?"

Revuarde leaned back in his seat, extending one of his legs as he placed his boot on the table ahead, grinning. He rubbed his thick black beard for a few moments, and chuckled as he replied, "I want to know why you want him. If you tell me, I'll give you his location. I had some printing work done a few months back, but it was obvious he was up to something else, so I had him tailed to find out just what it was."

"And you know what he was involved in?"

Revuarde shook his head. "He was a careful man. Well, obviously not careful enough, if he's being Hunted. My man couldn't find anything on him. That's why I'm asking you now."

Lindley glanced over at Marris, grimacing.

Is he really going to give up the details of our Hunt? To this man? Why does he even care what Mahew was involved in? If he was in business with the printer, does he want to act in a self-preservative manner? Or is he just plainly curious? 

"I don't mind telling you that much. To be honest, it isn't much. Just what you could gather yourself. The reason we're Hunting him is because he was involved in spreading sedition, but that's obvious. The real reason it took so long was because we were trying to be cautious in our discovery. We think Mahew was working for someone else, rather than operating on his lonesome. Although, we weren't able to discover any evidence of that. I plan on 'extracting' the truth from Mahew once we recover him. If you want to know what comes of that, I can certainly tell you... for a price, as usual."

Lindley was in shock as he listened to the conversation happening between the two shady men. He had joined the Hunt because he imagined it a legitimate, clean line of work. His father had been a scammer, and his father before him, his lineage rooted in criminal elements. Now, was it really the case that it was circular, and in searching for the end of that cycle, he had simply returned to its beginning?

Lindley sighed, adjusting his cap.

F-ck it... whatever. Let's just get through this. 

Revuarde let out a gruff, bellowing laugh.

"Agreed. I'll pay you well for whatever you get out of him. Of course, that might be easier said than done. I've already tried my hardest..."

"What do you mean?" Marris's brows furrowed.

"Well, that's just the thing. He's already here."