The interior of the inn that Hana chose -- apparently known as the Blue Gala Suites -- was nearly as nice as the upper-class inn that Topher had visited in Wanbourne; thick coats of varnish and polish covered every wooden surface, and Topher reflexively clutched at his coin pouch before remembering that it was inside his Magic Bag, under his new robes. How the fuck are we supposed to afford this? He waited, ill at ease, while Hana -- Vanna, I need to start thinking of her using her alias or I'll mess it up when I talk -- negotiated a pair of rooms ("One for the Great Mage, and one for his servants") for what sounded like a ruinous percentage of their funds, then climbed a painfully long series of stairs to reach their suites. Climbing them might suck, but notice how you're not out of breath, commented the distant part of his mind; he pushed the thought away and entered the room when Vanna opened it, then had a seat at the prominent desk. Zanasha took up a guard post by the window, while Vanna shut the door and locked it, then listened for a few moments. "I believe we are unobserved," she commented at last, letting some of the tension drop from her shoulders and face and changing her speech back to a less formal register. "I think we can plan freely, now."
"Good," growled Topher, "now all we need is an idea of what the fuck our plans should be."
Zanasha nodded. "Friend... er, Master Copperfield... makes an excellent point. We are in need of objectives more granular than 'investigate the death of the elf'." Topher noticed, approvingly, that she hadn't mentioned his name explicitly; what kind of stuff have these two gotten up to that they're used to changing identities like this?
"Very much so." Vanna moved to sit on the bed, crossing one leg over the other and resting her hand on her chin. "Particularly since we are operating with incomplete information." Coming to a decision, she turned to face Topher squarely. "We have a lot of tools; Zee is a member of the Adventurer's Guild here, and can engage them for resources or information." I'm a member too, and I bet Hana is also, thought Topher, but we probably can't use those connections while we're undercover. That must be why she didn't make a new identity for Zanasha. "In my position as a Herald, I can conduct most business for you, and my Enhanced Diplomacy Skill can open a lot of doors for us. But..." -- she winced -- "...we have to be judicious in choosing which avenues of investigation we pursue; each action increases our exposure, so I think it's best that we construct a sequence of such actions before we begin." She tossed her long white hair over a shoulder and fixed him with a regretful look. "I have the makings of a plan, but it won't be easy."
Topher tensed, then sighed. "Okay. Let me hear it."
Vanna changed her pose again, pressing her knees together and twining her fingers on top of them as she looked away. "I propose that we visit the sites of your traumatic events in this city -- once each -- in an attempt to recover as much of your memory as possible. Then, when we've exhausted all possible avenues of information in the city proper, we enter the castle and perform what investigations we may there, starting with the dungeons and following any leads that present themselves." She returned her gaze to his own. "I know it'll be difficult for you, but it's the only path I can imagine."
Topher sighed. "It's about what I thought you'd say. And, for what it's worth, I think it's probably our best chance of success." He squeezed his eyes shut. "But, first things first -- I need a drink. Can you order me something from the bar here? Not too strong; maybe a beer or two."
Zanasha cocked her head. "Are you sure that is wise? Would not an unclouded mind be better?"
"No," croaked Topher. "You're asking me to dig through my own mind. A little liquid courage will give me a hand. Loosen my brain's deathgrip, or something." He sighed. Not a great start, leaning on one problem to help me dig myself out from under another.
Dutifully, Vanna departed and returned with two bottles of what looked like an expensive beer; Topher didn't ask how a medieval society had access to bottling and labeling capabilities, and just popped the cap on the first. When he'd downed it, he sat for a few minutes, letting it work its way through his bloodstream; once he felt the familiar warm floaty feeling, he slouched in his chair slightly and conjured a Minor Illusion of a map. "Okay. Let's go over the facts." Closing his eyes, he reviewed the story he'd told them in the woods the previous night. "The places where my memory cuts out are the inn where I fought the assassin, Oguro's shop, and the castle. You guys said we should go to the castle last, and I agree." I'm dealing with this well, he marveled. Maybe pretending to be somebody else gives me emotional distance?
Yeah, and that's probably a real healthy coping mechanism, observed the distant part of his mind. Topher ignored it and carried on.
"Based on that, I think we should find an excuse to visit Oguro's shop first, then the inn that burned down. I don't know exactly where they are, but I do know how to find both of them from a particular starting point." Highlighting a spot on the map, he pointed at it with a finger that wavered only slightly. "Near the castle, there's a stable where our group squatted for a week or so when this all began. I can find that from the castle, and from there, I can find the other two sites." Concentrating, he caused dotted lines to appear on the map from the castle to where he thought the stable might be, then to the other two locations; then, with a grunt, he dispelled the map. "If there's anything else we should be doing, I'm open to suggestions."
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Zanasha looked thoughtful. "What about inquiring into Oguro or Cailu's known associates? One of them might know?"
Topher shook his head. "That might tip them off that we're looking into it. Whatever this is, it's some kind of conspiracy that followed me from here all the way to Wanbourne; I want to keep our profile as low as possible."
"You mentioned that Oguro was a deserter from the last Summoning," Vanna pointed out. "Do you think somebody in the castle might know more about him? Perhaps from ten years ago?"
"It's possible," Topher admitted. "We can investigate that side of it once we get into the castle. But before then, we should probably try to do as much of this on our own as we can." He noticed that his hands were shaking slightly at the thought of returning to any of these places; the scent of smoke filled his nostrils, and he opened the second beer and drank it as quickly as he could. "But not today. We'll start in the morning. With any luck, we can hit all three of these places in the same day, then move on to the castle before any trouble we stir up can catch up with us."
Zanasha nodded. "I can find no fault with your logic." She walked to the door, then hesitated. "Should we eat in the common room, or have our meals brought up here?"
Topher shuddered. "Up here. I'm not eating in these clothes; I'm already terrified enough that I'll get them dirty."
Vanna chuckled. "The inn offers laundry services, Master Copperfield. But as you wish." She rose and bowed; when she raised her head, Topher could see that she was back in character. "I will provide you a potion to relax you and increase the quality of your sleep before you retire; until then, we shall guard your quarters."
She rose, passing by Zanasha as she strode out the door; Zanasha lingered a moment, looking back at Topher with a frown. For a long moment, she looked like she was going to say something; but eventually, she simply shook her head and left, closing the door gently behind her.
Topher barely noticed. The beer helped, as did the comforting blanket of dissociation that being "Master Copperfield" gave him; but his fingers still clenched at his fake staff, and his fluffy new beard itched and felt pretentious. Speed therapy, with added assassins. Unless Vanna's "potion" is basically just quaaludes, I'm in deep shit.
He sat, staring into space and fretting, for a long while; eventually, Vanna returned with a sandwich and a bowl of stew, which she left behind wordlessly. Topher, as promised, changed into his dirty robe and ate his food as carefully as he could, terrified of getting food on his new beard; this mostly resulted in him taking a large number of very small, careful bites (and using a knife and fork on his sandwich, then lifting individual bites to his mouth with Mage Hand). As a result, he grew full long before he finished his meal, and pushed it away irritably; can't even stress eat. Fuck this, seriously.
As if summoned by his pique, Hotaka's projection shimmered into view; Topher glanced at it and sighed. "Hey. How are you doing?"
"I am well enough, Bailey-sensei," returned Hotaka calmly. "I see that you have changed your appearance once more."
"Yeah, it's becoming a habit," Topher groused. "Listen, if you can tell me anything about your current situation, now would be a good time; Kelfir made us return to Strathmore to investigate whoever was behind Cailu's assassination, and probably Oguro's too. And... I guess... Makoto and Haruko's too." He turned to look at the bespectacled boy, expecting him to flinch at Makoto's name; but Hotaka's face was still its usual placid mask of patience and calm, and Topher's heart quailed within him. He loved her. How much shit has this kid gone through that he doesn't even blink now?
Hotaka shrugged. "As before, Bailey-sensei, I believe that we should focus on your current situation. If you find anything in your investigations that would help you locate me, or transport me out of my current predicament, of course we should learn more; however, I believe our best course of action at present is the acquisition of allies; and the Archmage Kelfir would be a powerful ally indeed. With enough support, my rescue should be a trivial matter; and, in the meantime, we can make use of my projection capabilities to their fullest effect."
Topher sighed, but couldn't argue. "If you're sure you're okay, kid. Just kills me to leave you in danger like this for so long."
"Bailey-sensei," commented Hotaka with a wry twist of his mouth, "I am quite certain that I am not the one of us in the most danger." His projection flickered out, and Topher sat alone in his robe and underwear in his empty room; he had sixty gold to his name, only the barest hint of a plan, and knew his own brain was going to be his biggest obstacle. He shed his clothes and climbed into the room's massive, sumptuous bed; when Vanna returned with a sleeping draught, he drank it greedily. "Thank you," he managed, his eyes already fluttering closed. "For everything."
He felt, more than saw, the young woman stiffen. "You do not have to thank me. It is my duty."
"That's why," he slurred, dropping fast into slumber, "it's important." And, silently and gently, Topher fell asleep.
The white-haired young woman stayed at his bedside for several minutes more after he drifted away. Occasionally, her hands did strange things; clutched at an amulet, half-drew a dagger, and shakily caressed her own cheek. But these actions went unobserved, and eventually, she departed. Closing the door, she extinguished the light, and darkness enveloped Topher.