Rae Varnya
“We've all been through the same ordeal – a sister lost, a father, a mother, a brother... maybe even a child. First we panicked, and we went to the city watch. They told us to calm down, and said they would look for the person we loved. And look they did – walking the same patrols, standing guard at the same gate... a outstanding effort, wouldn't you agree?”
The Lady Rae Varnya looked out over the assembled city folk, listening to the murmurs of discontent. Normal people they were, hub-drubs from the lower wards. They had tried to dress up for this occasion, but the result was a hodge-podge of gaily colored garments that looked appalling. And they were dirtying her floor with their muddy shoes and their sloppy table manners.
What ever had possessed her to go along with this? Well, she might as well make the best of it.
“Look around you. This hall is not the hall of a poor person. This hall is not the hall of someone without influence. After I lost my beloved younger sister, I wasn't willing to just stand by while the city watch did nothing. I talked to people, rubbed shoulders with the leaders of our city, and eventually I got to know a certain captain among the watchmen.” She smiled, then continued, “The young man was quite happy to let me in on a secret I'm about to share with you – the Regent has directly ordered that no investigations as to missing persons be put forward. And...” She waited for the clamor to die down, then continued in a conspiratorial tone. “And by the sounds of it, the Regent seemed afraid.”
The crowd had hushed, and was now strangely silent. A few whispers, but nothing audible. The Regent was neither a kind man, nor one to be taken lightly. Even the commoners knew this to be the case.
“And so you wonder – what could cause the Regent to be afraid?” She smiled. “Well, this question intrigued me as well, and so I have founds a group that specializes in... investigating such unique situations.” She beckoned to a well-dressed gentleman seated in one of the nearer tables.
Jack Sunder
Jack Sunder stood, and walked over to the Lady Rae, frowning. He had wanted this to be a quieter affair – a few words exchanged in behind closed doors, a new task, and... no crowds. At least the food was good; the Lady knew how to throw a feast.
“Hello everyone, I am Mr. Jack Sunder, leader of Sunder and Associates. I have been informed by the Lady Rae that each of you has also had a family member go missing; I believe that these events are related. Sunder and Associates is a collection of talent for many circumstances – I believe that we can help you. Sunder and Associates is also a mercenary organization – pay us, and we will help you. I know that, with the exception of the Lady, may not have so very much to give. That is fine. I only expect each of you to pay according to your--”
Rae stepped in front of him, cutting him off with quick, soothing, reassuring words. “What Mr. Sunder is saying is that since there are so very many of us who have been affected by this outrage, splitting the cost evenly would result in a fee that all of us could pay. We have all lost someone, and to put more value on one life than another would be folly. Given the cost of Sunder and his associates, it would be a mere 200 beads – 100 now, and 100 upon a satisfactory resolution to our problems.”
Jack Sunder frowned more as he watched the commoners murmur amongst each other. This wasn't what he had planned. He would be paid either way, but 100 bronze beads was nearly a month's wages for many of these people. The Lady Rae had planned this from the start, he decided, as not to pay any more than she had to. He idly wondered how much the feast had cost. He had never been the best with numbers, but the cost of the raw materials couldn't be much, and Rae probably had a private chef, so...
“So what do you plan to do, Mr. Sunder?”
Jack blinked. Rae was talking to him, and was now standing closer. “Mr. Sunder?”
“Yes, naturally I have a plan. As my associates go around collecting our fees, they will also be asking as to the details of your loss. Any pattern in the disappearances could help us understand just what is happening.” He did a short bow, using it to get Rae's hand off of his shoulder, where it had appeared, and joined his subordinates at their table. Rae was continuing to talk about some travesty or something that would help her harvest money from the poor that she could easily have provided herself. He nibbled on some roast chicken. It tasted bitter in his mouth.
“She's not your type, Jack.”
Jack looked up from his meal. Lore was making some sort of face at him. Some silly sort of envy, probably.
“She's not your type,” Lore said again.
“Who cares about my type? She's a customer, she pays – strictly business.”
The young lady shot him a withering gaze. “Strictly business? It better be.”
Jack heard a snort from next to him. Perl was watching Rae talk, his eyes glued to her figure. “I'd like to do some strictly business with her,” said the large man, not taking his eyes off of her.
Jack glanced over at Rae, a gleaming figure in red. The crimson dress hugged her form, with silver embroidery accentuating her figure. Jack became aware of a particular someone's eyes burning into the back of his head, and frowned a little bit more. Lore was going to make this a problem, wasn't she. He rolled that thought around in his mind. What to do about the new girl? What of the new girl? This thought occupied him for the rest of the evening.
Maureen
Children. There weren't any children taken. Sons, daughters, yes, but nobody younger than a dozen years of age, and, for that matter, nobody older than three dozen. A trend? Meaningful? Perhaps.
Maureen distractedly shook hands with yet another tearful housewife and moved onto the next.
Perhaps the perpetrator was looking for particular qualities? If so, then why the balance in gender? Why balance in subrace? Vampires were not all male, as they all had found out a few months ago, but even a nest of vampires would most likely have an unequal gender ratio – so their victims, assuming a heterosexual pattern for each vampire, would have the same unequal ratio. But the balance was almost a perfect sample of the population. So random? But random and within a certain age range. What else made people disappear in cities? And somehow scare the Regent?
Done! At last! Maureen stared at her notepad. Twenty-three commoners. One had paid the 100 rings, and the rest had given a little bit of money, and promised that they would pay more as they could. She had written down their addresses for collection later, but she was pretty sure that “two alleyways south past the central well” could describe a dozen neighborhoods with “central wells.” The city was centered on the castle, not a well, and if there was a central well in the castle, it wouldn't have alleyways nearby. Maybe the local girl had some idea of these lower ward “addresses”.
But! Done!
She joined her fellow associates at the table, and watched Sunder daintily eat his chicken. Really, he must have been of noble origin to have those manners. But why “Sunder and Associates” rather than living off family holdings? Risking death to make a living seemed more complicated, and not as good a life. So doubtful, then.
Books. If she were a rich woman, she would have books, lots of books, and she would read them all day.
“So what do you have for me?”
Sunder was looking at her. At her. He wanted her opinion. She had an opinion. No, she had facts, and logic, and answers. And he wanted to know. And she would tell him. But someone was already speaking.
“Our prime suspects are an old, demented couple.” Selena was positively glowing. “They are stealing young men and young women off the street, and pairing them together, and trying to condition them into being younger versions of themselves. When it fails, then they get new couples.”
“Very interesting, Selena. Why is the Regent worried?”
“Well, because, um...”
Maureen had her moment. “Sir, I propose we share our data, and see what conclusions we can make with the whole picture.” She checked her notepad. “I counted eleven women missing, and twelve men missing. Youngest was at age fourteen, and oldest was at age thirty-two, majority in their twenties. All were in healthy condition – no expectation of dying of illness in the streets, or any particularly high chance of being overpowered. Most were taken from their houses while they were home alone, with four exceptions of twenty-three taken on the streets.”
“Enough,” Sunder motioned for Maureen to stop. “What about everyone else?”
“Wait, I was just collecting money and addresses, right?” Perl had a look of consternation on his slightly older face.
“No, Perl - too many people here. Hoping everyone could ask around.” Sunder sighed slightly and shook his head.
“Oh, sorry.”
“What about you, Lore?”
“Same as Maureen.”
Maureen pressed her lips together tightly. 'Same as Maureen?' Perhaps the same overall results, but she hardly had the detail Maureen had painstakingly collected.
Sunder nodded. “So influence. Why is the Regent scared? That's one piece I don't understand. But let's look at it another way. Who can scare the Regent? Why can't he just have the city watch march down and execute however is giving him trouble? I thought vampires, originally, but this is too much, and the regent would take action against that – if a mayor can hire us, what stops him?”
Maureen thought about it. “Probably something personal. A threat on the life of someone he cares about, something like that. Criminal societies can get their hands on the slightest bit of leverage.”
“Then why the kidnappings? No profit. Why not extortion, or ransoming?” He felt a delicate hand on his shoulder, and saw Lore's eyes widen from across the table. The hand pressed down, feeling the muscles of his neck and shoulder, sliding... and...
“Or perhaps something like blackmail? A Regent's position replies on the age of the young prince, and the wishes of the dead king Amberlof, may he rest in peace. Perhaps someone has proof that Amberlof wished someone else to power in the even he should die before his son came of age? Regent Maldorbus is hardly a ruler in the vision of the old king.”
Sunder brushed the Lady's hand off his shoulder and stood. “But Maldorbus is old and childless. Even with the Priests of Life, he isn't going to live another decade. He's going to die when the Prince comes of age, leaving no successor. Amberlof was no fool, we all can agree upon that.”
Perl jumped to his feet. “That's it! The Priests of Life are in close contact with the Regent, and we can talk to them in the temples. We can ask them what he is afraid of!”
Maureen gaped. The big man had said something quite intelligent. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
"Let's do this!" said Selena, hopping up from her chair.