"Your friend..." Coin growled, glaring up at Velasco, "tried to kill me!"

"Oh?" Velasco tilted his head to the side. He kept his right hand outstretched, an aura of ghostly green light shimmering around his fingertips. Coin hadn't sensed any magic from the man when they first met. But now it was pouring off of him in waves, with an intensity that felt inhuman.

"Velasco," Fiodor growled, his palms forcibly pinned to the polished floor. "This mongrel just attacked one of your chancellors. Deal with him."

"From what I saw, you attacked each other at the same time," Velasco admitted, sporting his usual calm expression. "Now, Ser Thaeka, tell me what happened?"

Coin sucked in a breath, fighting against his own reflexes that told him to break free from Velasco's grasp. "I came upon his carriage being attacked by goblins. I saved him and his men... and he tried to kill me with magic!"

"Ah. I take if you were using magic at the time? Tut tut, Fiodor. I thought we were beyond your strange disdain towards humans with magic. Evidently not." The source of said disdain couldn't help but smirk, just a tad. In truth the difference between Velasco smiling, and Velasco's normal expression, could only be detected by someone with inhuman observation skills.

Skinless skulls had more convincing smiles.

Fiodor grit his teeth, his eyes burning with white hot malice. "Are you seriously believing the words of this stranger?!" he barked.

"Given your prior behaviour? Yes," Velasco bluntly replied. He sighed as the glow faded from his hand. "I shall allow this indiscretion a single time, Ser Thaeka. Please refrain from giving me any reasons to regret this decision. But, knowing how dangerous Fiodor is, I will not fault you for being hasty. As for you, Fiodor... we will have words."

Coin and Fiodor rose to their feet at the same time, glaring at each other all the while. In truth, while Coin's magic had grown much stronger since their first meeting, he doubted he could beat Fiodor in a battle of pure magical power.

The reflexes required to create a barrier that quickly were utterly inhuman, and the barrier itself had withstood his lightning without much difficulty. He had to imagine, in a straight fight, Fiodor was damn monstrous.

Not that that would stop Coin, in the long run. He just had more pressing concerns for the time being.

"Be on your way," Velasco ordered, motioning Fiodor over.

Coin, slow and stiff strode from the room as Fiodor made for the old man's desk. The doors closed behind him, and the two guards were trying as hard as humanly possible to not look at the mimic.

Coin huffed as he strode from the doors. The whole experience had been odd, but Fiodor's sudden appearance had seemingly allowed him to slip away and avoid any deeper questioning from Velasco.

The Archchancellor clearly knew more than he was letting on. The hand cannon, in particular, seemed to strike a chord inside of him. But, for now, that also wasn't much of a concern to Coin.

Valle's death was his current and most pressing concern.

He wound his way back through the network of corridors he had used to get this far, only now without a guide to lead him. But, as he went along his way, he stopped at a fork in the corridor when he spotted Illyana, flanked by an assortment of other men and women in matching surcoats.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Intrigue briefly gripped Coin. Illyana was apparently involved in investigating Valle and the Brotherhood. And if they had any information, then he was entitled to know it too, as far as he was concerned.

Coin leaned against the corner and tried to blend in and act normal. Anyone familiar with the world of civil servants will know that, naturally, a man standing stock still and doing not much of anything is an entirely normal sight in these environments.

He strained his hearing, warping the funnels of his ears to amplify that sense to superhuman levels. And, gradually, words of conversation from the group drifted his way.

One man stood at the head of the pack, distinguished by the helmet tucked under his arm that had feathery wings sculpted across the temples. The others had been given much less flashy helms. He was a human with deeply tanned skin, a thin scar crossing the bridge of his nose and a larger one warping his right cheek. It was hard to guess the man's age, particularly from afar, but he must have been at least in his forties.

"Our scouts have continued their hunt through the southern underground reaches, and have found nothing. Our maps of the underground are incomplete, the Brotherhood were clever to steal or destroy their records of those structures before they were fully ousted from power." He grunted and shook his head. "But our scouts have gradually been narrowing our search down, and we have a better sense of direction of where to look."

He unfurled a parchment. It was too far to make out all the details from where Coin stood, but he could at least see roughly drawn lines that seemed to depict the outline of some city streets.

"If Valle Irons is in league with the Brotherhood, and none of our checkpoints have reported the man exiting the city since we received news of DiVenture's murder, then it is all too likely he is still somewhere in the city and in their care."

Illyana raised her hand, earning a grunt and nod from the man. "How can we be certain, Captain Ladoss? I'm sure there must be some secretive routes out of the city, unknown to even the guards."

"We can't be certain of anything, lass. But we can still try to think things through logically. And if he was secreted from Sentinel, the way out had to originate from somewhere within these walls. So we'll ferret out the last of the holes we know of, and continue to check for any trace of the man and his supposed allies."

Coin pressed tighter to the walls, the corners of his mouth tugging uncertainly. So, Illyana's new allies were going after Valle and the Brotherhood. Velasco certainly hadn't wasted time getting people to look into things.

Then again, Elijah had been a wealthy and high profile man. And if rich people were getting killed in the streets, something had to be done before the other rich people started to complain.

Frankly, Coin had no leads on his own. Following this lot could, in theory, put him on the right track.

Ladoss lifted and donned his helmet. "We're going in. And we'll either come back with Valle Irons, or have a solid lead on where to find him. Now get your arses in gear and follow me!"

He whirled around, his cloak fanning at the motion, and set off through the corridors. His men clicked their heels together, saluted, and followed behind.

Coin took off behind him and maintained a confident stride as he went, keeping a modest distance to keep any of the Manticores from noticing him. It is a well established fact, across every dimension and reality, that a person can walk freely in any important building so long as they walk confidently.

Because, surely, a person wouldn't strut about so freely if they weren't meant to be there. At least, that was what anyone who was supposed to be there would think.

Or, more likely, they weren't getting paid enough to care about checking each and every person who bustled about the halls.

People gave the Manticores a wide berth in passing, which allowed them to quickly weave their ways through the palace. Soon the group were moving from the heart of the city to the border of Lowtown. There the people graduated from moving out of their way, to scurrying into the shadows at the sight of them.

Coin followed their lead all the while. And once they were out on the streets, and he was certain nobody was around to see him, he swiftly clambered up the side of a building and hopped from roof to roof.

Ladoss kept a comfortable pace, and his men knew better than to lag behind him. Illyana took up the rear of their column, an uncertain look upon her face. Whenever Coin looked at her, usually while using chimneys for cover, he could tell she wasn't entirely thrilled about being with the Manticores.

They were certainly a stern and joyless group, Coin noted. They barely muttered a single syllable of small talk as they went.

Still, as he surveyed the group, he couldn't help but notice the confidence with which they carried themselves, and the quality of their gear. They were certainly a cut above the adventurer he had dealt with in his past life.

But would that leave them on even footing with the members of the Brotherhood?

Time would tell, he supposed.

He spared a glance to the sky as he went along. Daylight was fast fading. He must have spent more time waiting for his meeting with Velasco than he thought, and this trek through the city had hardly been short. Ideally the others wouldn't mind his absence for a little while longer.

Eventually, the Manticores reached a region that bordered Lowtown and the Spokes. Coin perched himself beside a crumbling section of wall, watching as Ladoss made for the doors of a boarded-up husk of a building.

He nodded silently to his cohorts, and slowly pushed the scorched doors open.