(1310-12-23) Journey to Harpoon Lane
Summary: A trio discover clues that lead them down to Harpoon Lane where they hope to discover Gwenaelle.
RL Date: December 27, 2018
Related: Shortest Day Disappearances Plot
eneas helene gal 

Various Dock Areas

The group went from the docks, to several streets in the area, including one called Harpoon Lane. A pretty name for a less than nice area of shacks.

Noon on December 23rd.

There's quite a few unhappy workers around the docks. Guys standing around whittling on sticks who would be normally loading and unloading ships in a hurry. Lots of staring at boats just riding the waves at anchor. Other boats can be seen back out in the water, waiting to be able to come into port. There's a lot of waiting going on.

With Eneas and Helene hitting the ground together, things are still moving slowly. Renault has been doing some searching, but come up empty handed. As the two head into the dock area, questioning people separately, bits of info may start coming in.

The City Watch has been hard at work as well, searching the dock area, and keeping the peace when fights break out between those workers that are just sitting waiting to actually do their work.

Helene has spent 1 luck points on Looking for Gwen and the family she may or may not have been helping.
<FS3> Helene rolls Investigation+5: Good Success. (5 6 2 4 3 1 8 7 7 2 3 1 4)
Gal has spent 1 luck points on Partying with the Dregs :)
<FS3> Gal rolls Carousing+5: Success. (8 5 5 4 3 6 2 4 1 2 6 1 1 5)
Eneas has spent 1 luck points on Following Gwen's trail across the docks.
<FS3> Eneas rolls Investigation+5: Success. (4 2 1 8 4 5 1 5 2 1)

It has been hours of searching when finally Helene comes running along the docks, Jean-Marc in tow, trying to slow her down. Her eyes dart from one side to another, looking through the idle faces as she searches for one in particular. Her cloak and gown are hemmed with damp from the snows, and it is clear that while she is tired, she is also excited. When she does manage to spy her quarry she yells, "Eneas!"

Gal is back in uniform— it's all hands on deck, as it were, as the more idle the sailors sit at harbor, the fewer men can sit idle on the citadel. With six-hour sleep shifts established, and no leave granted, Gal has been up since his efforts to bring back information from the evening of the disappearances. But he's a sturdy kid, full of energy, and he's here in his blue guardsman's cape and his sidearm, without the ceremonial pike they usually carry on rounds. The shout from down the docks draws seven or eight sets of restlessly quieted eyes, not th least among them that of the guardsman who pivots in his course to draw nearer to the source of voice.

Waiting. Not something most are fond of, and while Eneas is no exception, he is used to it. A soldier's life is often full of waiting. Until it is not. Having run down every lead he could, the trail has seemingly gone cold at least, the streetkid not much of a help other than to narrow the rough quarter the priestress was heading into of the dock district, perhaps.
So Helene will find Eneas talking to one of the Watchmen, to let them know. Perhaps they can focus their search in that part, though he knows the longer this takes, the more difficult it will be to pick up the trail again.
The yell of his name has him break the conversation, however, turn to face the caller. Holding up a hand to the Watchman, he does turn to walk a few steps in Helene's direction, the urgency in her voice making it seem more important.

Once he turns to her, Heleen redoubles her efforts, breaking out into a sprint that leaves her breathless when she closes the perhaps twenty metre gap between them. Her hands on her ribs, she pants, "I found… the sailor… Eneas… I know…" She takes a moment to drawn in a deep breath and continues, "There really seems to eb a sailor, and I have a good idea where he is. We will have to be careful though because the district is rife with illness." Her green eyes hold hsi for a moment before she looks to the guard, her voice growing gentler, though the desperate tendril remains,"I'm interrupting, I'm sorry."

Gal nods to Cole, giving his squadmate a tight half-smile of recognition when his conversation with Eneas is interrupted by Helene in her excitement to share the news. Then, drawing up to stand side by side with the other blue-cape, he tips his head with a care-heavy twist of his brow to Helene and listens to the new intelligence. "Is it down Harpoon Lane? We heard people saying that's where someone saw her heading with an unknown man," he shares the information the guards have brought to the table through a long night of their favorite kind of espionage— the drunken kind. Gal stands and crosses one of his hands over to his opposite elbow, anxious to hear the answer.

Eneas shakes his head as she sprints, perhaps already seeing her trip on her skirts and fall, but when she finally reaches him, he holds out both arms to hold her by the shoulders, steadying her, even while she tries to catch her breath. The news is nodded to. "No interruption. If you have the man, you got closer than I..", he says, truning to the Watchman. Or two Watchmen, as it turns out to be. Huh. Look away for but a second, and they multiply!
"You know the way?", he wonders at Gal, before peering back and forth, to assure it is where Helene thinks the man is found. The last however has him frowns a little. "Rife with sickness?", he echoes, tilting his head. "How bad is it?". So many things to run through the blonde mercenary's head at once.

Helene reaches for Eenas' waist as he takes her shoulder, her head nodding, "I have a name Eneas. I have name…" She then turns her head even as she leans in to hug Eneas tightly and sees Gal, her lips turning up into a slight, but decidedly relieved smile. "Gal, Oh Elua I'm glad to see you. I hear Harpoon, or Harpy, but they are in the same area, and the sailor's name." She seems hesitant to say it quite yet. "You willl come with us?"
Letting go of Eneas a moment she leans back to look him right in the eye, her tone taking on a almost school-marm-ish tone of command, "Yes, but Sister Gwenaelle will know what to do about that. I would not worry about the likelihood of her catching infection, but you. Do /NOT/ touch anything ro anyone unless you have to, and /have to/ is a very specific meaning. We can pick some rotgut up at the Kraken's Den en route in case anyone does get a cut, or we run into something… pus ridden. It's what the chirurgeon back hoem used to do."

Gal returns Helene's smile, somewhat to Cole's consternation, though the latter is well-trained enough not to let it show. "Of course," he assures her off-handedly, and with remarkable informality of speech for a lowly guardsman addressing a Lady of the land. A further quirk of a grin, "You had me at 'rotgut from the Kraken's den,'" is a wry slice of a joke, before he offers, "I'll pick some up and meet you where Harpoon street meets the sheds?"

Eneas accepts the hug, returns it with a light exhale of breath. Progress. There is progress being made. Torturously slow, maybe, but progress. "A name is good.", the merc rumbles in her ear for a moment, before the Lady draws back to adress Gal. Eneas does blink briefly, tilting his head. "You know each other?", he wonders, before the man is given a nod of his head. "Splendid. Let's go at onc…", he is cut off then, by the look and lecture of the Verreuil, and for a moment his eyes narrow. Oh, it is still there, the frustration and the boiling blood of the Companion in his family line. "There are limits to what even she can do. But that's not what I was wondering. To abduct a priestress of Eiseth in a quarter that is plagued makes more sense. This is not a work of a madman, there is some reasoning behind, perhaps.". Still, he merely snorts then. "Oh, don't worry. I'll use my 'instruments' if there is /need/ to touch anything in that way.", he lets her now, not exactly in a friendly tone. His hands to fall to his hip, then, to the belt that holds his sword, but not to take charge of it. Rather, he pulls two leather gloves from it, to work his fingers in the corresponding sheaths on them. Only then does he turn, to offer Gal his hand. "Eneas d'Aiglemort is my name. Gal, was it?".

Helene for her part shakes her head, letting out a slwo breath and begins to murmer words in an unusual language. It sounds like counting. Her hands tay on her hips as she goes through the motion to calm herself down. Once her own blood is done boiling she answers tersely, "I will meet you there Gal. If this arse gives you trouble, welcome to the club." With a snort, she turns to depart, her footsteps in the direction of the sheds.

Down to the sheds, near Harpoon lane. It's not the best area to be in, no matter who you are. The fact that the two nobles are there, gain them a few looks by the locals. At least Gal doesn't seem to be /too/ out of place. Fires burn, both within the rundown shacks, and outside in braziers where a few homeless might be found shivering and attempting to see the day through. Many are coughing, the wet rattling in their chests not sounding good at all. And this is where the priestess came?

Gal affirms, shaking hands with Eneas, but not taking a lot of time to do much aside from introducing himself (just as Gal), and also his squadmate Ercole ('Cole'), whom he takes with him to the Den, and then both of them turn up bearing a handled jug of hooch each, walking in an easy unison with one another, the sort of way that guys who are forced to march in lockstep side by side in drills just… naturally pick up after a while. Gal's attention is caught by the homeless poor, and he lags behind a moment before Cole notices and eggs him along before he can do anything submb like try to distribute disinfectant to the throats of the wretches who live here. Gal hurries along to catch up, and soon, well, here are the nobles' reinforcements, jugs in their left hands, swords on their left hips. "I can see why she would come this way." That's Gal, mumbling to himself.

<FS3> Helene rolls Composure: Good Success. (1 5 3 8 6 7 3 8 1 6 2)

Well, Eneas did not have time to dress down today. Or up, for that matter. He is still in the clothes he threw on when all this was is returning a acolyte to the temple after nightfall, though at least that particular noble looks like he might hold his own against most riff-raff that might be stupid enough to come for them.
No comment is made about the efficent drilling the watch seems to have been blessed with, though Eneas sure has one eye on that to gauge how much help Gal and Cole will be and apparently finding it more than sufficent. Of course, Jean-Marc is with them as well, though he will be mostly be tasked with the impossible job of keeping Helene safe through all of it.
Once they pass the homeless and the sick, however, Eneas own wide, determined step does falter a little. There is a flitter of pity on his features, even as he keeps walking, turning now and then to make sure everyone stays together and that he is still on the right path to where Gal and Helene said the man would be. Gal's muttered comment, however does harden his features once more. "…because her brain sometimes gets outyelled by her heart.", he grumbles. He warned her something like that might happen. Granted, the wretches here hardly seem like a threat to anyone, right now.

Helene pulls her woollen cloak more tightly around herself as she walks, her green eyes moving from window to window, and face to face as she takes in the street around her. She takes a few coins from her pocket and turns to Jean-Marc, the older man looking at her with understanding, his hand already reaching out and chin nodding. "Bread, cheese, meat, anything that will last. And tea, bring as much leaf as you can," she tells him softly. There is a low answer ebfore she shakes her head, "I'll be asfe with Gal and Eneas. Just go when they get here."
She sighs softly again as she stands and listens for a few minuets before Gal comes with the alcohol. May I have one?" she asks, her hand outstretched towards the guard. If he lets her, she takes the jug wth a quick thanks and unstoppers it, raising it to her lips to take a hefty swill. Her eyes only closing a moment as it burns down her throat. Putting the stopper back, she announces, "Right then, we are looking for a sailor named Johan. He should live on this street, possibly with a family. Yes, she is a healer and likely her sense of compassion and duty brought her here. She may; however, have been lured here for coin." Helene turns to look around, and murmers, "I can see why someone would eb tempted…." More clearly she finishes, "I have sent Jean-Marc for food though, so hopefully that kindness will earn us some friends."

Gal comes to a halt alongside Cole and then lifts his jug in his left hand to offer it out to her when she asks for it, returning his hand to his hip and forcing his blue guardsman's cape to drift back from his shoulder a little bit. "The liquor might be a quicker way into peoples' hearts— and memories, if their tongues are loosened," he suggests. To Eneas, a soulful stare of his night black eyes. "I wasn't being ironic. If I were a healer… this is the sort of place I would be," he mumbles. "Where people need me."

When strangers come to this area, they're watched. Rags covering window holes may be seen to twitch, then fall back into place. Those at the braziers turn weary, red-rimmed eyes towards the group, every watchful of their actions. Quiet murmurs start as those at the braziers try to guess what has brought the group to this part of town.
Overhearing something about a healer, one guy finally speaks up, "What you say about a healer? Could use a few of them here.. been waiting." The old man's gaze falls upon the jug being passed between Gal and Helene.

Eneas clenches his jaw a little at Gal's remark. "She should not come here alone, is all I am saying…", he finally manages. Oh, the look the poor guardsman earns is not friendly, but surely it is clear that his anger is not really targetting the youth. Still, blue eyes scan those around them, and while his hand rests on the pommel of his sword to keep it controlled when he walks and turns, he does not really seem worried about the moving rags and furtive eyes in windows. Or the men that surround them. Misery is something that particular noble is also accustomed to, in a way.
Nodding his head to Helene, he finally sighs. "Perhaps.", he agrees with her, but before he may say more, the older man speaks up, and draws Eneas gaze back towards him. Lifting a hand, he waves him closer, stepping a step or two towards him to meet the man, but to draw him away from his companions and easy earshot. "There was one that came here last morning. Robes of the Temple of Eiseth. Red hair, green eyes. Have you seen her?", he inquires, before glancing to Helene, then the jug she is still holding.

Helene nods and steps forward to pass the jug over, adding, "She may have been in the company of a sailor who lives round this way. Johan?" The jug passes, her hands move, one to rest easy at her side, the other held more tensely in front of her stomach, clenching and unclenching slowly.

Gal looks into Eneas' eyes, understanding his anger and neither looking anything but somewhat sorrowful in its wake. Helene is making good on the suggestions to give over the jug, and so Gal lowers his arm to his side and takes a stand by Cole, at the ready to serve and protect, and also generally keeping an eye out on the environs while the nobility interview the man at the brazier.

The old man studies Eneas, but steps away from the brazier, a hand lifted as he coughs. He closes the distance, but doesn't come all the way. If offered the jug, he'll take it, sipping from it a few times, "Ah…" A pause comes as he turns to hand off the jug to one of the others at the fire, not handing it back over to the nobles. They wouldn't want to drink after him anyway, right? "Why you looking for the priestess?" The question is raised, those red-rimmed eyes turned back to the nobles.

<FS3> Helene rolls Persuasion: Good Success. (4 6 3 6 2 4 7 3 5 8 6)
<FS3> Eneas rolls Persuasion: Great Success. (1 8 5 7 5 8 3 8 2 7)
<FS3> Helene rolls Perception: Great Success. (2 5 8 7 1 8 7 2 2 2)

Watching Helene pass over the jug, Eneas does not protest the sip. Nor the passing on to his companions. The question, however, makes Eneas narrow his eyes once more. No, Eneas is not the kind who hides his intentions, nor his frustrations. And he is letting the man know by expression alone that he is not in the mood to play games. "Because she is missing since that morning. Because I know she comes here often, if needed alone, to help, in spite of all her other duties at the temple, or the danger that exist in a port town of coming here alone.", he tells the man, straight up. "Because if someone took advantage of her kindness, they will be sorry for it for the rest of the short remaining time they have in this life. Because she is not the only one who went missing. Because if I do not find her, or at least this Johan, I will not know much other way than to kick down door after door before I find her, hopefully save and whole. And while I know you good d'Angeline folk would know better than to lay hand on a Priestress of Eiseth, and would help find her on that alone, there will be a reward for those who help find her.". Eneas lays it bare, before he steps closer to the man, before he seeks to extend a hand — gloved as it may be — to the man. "I am a close friend of hers. Eneas is my name. Can you help me, or are you wasting me time, monsieur?".

Helene pauses for a moment in teh wake of Eneas' outburst, studying the man intently before nodding her chin once, quite slowly. Stepping forward, she tries to place herself so that Eneas can still reach adn see him, but she is closer to the man and then places a gentle hand upon his arm and meets his eyes with her own, her expression gentle and compassionate. "You know her, Gwen I mean. And Johan. You know him. She is a friend of ours, and this man, Eneas, he cares very deeply for her. You can see. I do not know what I can promise to assure you that we mean her no harm. We want her safe, and nothing more. There will be a reward, and even if we learn nothing, there is food coming, and I will send blankets and firewood to see you through the cold. That is my promise to you." Seh looks warmly to Eneas for a moment, and gives him a half smile before turning back to the homeless man and adding, "Will you elp us? Please?"

The old man's gaze meets that of the nobles, his be-whiskered chin lifted as if to say he ain't scared of no noble! But, he listens to both the words offered by Eneas, and those of Helene, taking measure of both. The guys at the brazier remain quiet, for it is the older one they speak to that seems to be their leader. After a few minutes, he finally nods, "Sister Gwennie, she came here to help Johan and his family." One hand that slightly trembles, points off a number of doors down the street, "She helped the little baby, and the mother both. Tried helping some others, but said she ran out of medicine." Taking the hand of Eneas, he gives it a shake, "She left, about noon it was. Said she was going to the temple to get more medicine, and a few others to help." Words are spoken, soon cut off when he goes into a long wet coughing spell.

Gal tries to guard his face from expressing too much, there in the background, but he does regard Eneas somewhat intently for the duration of his oration, otherwise remaining still, shoulders squared and feet set at shoulder width in an easy attention, ready to move. When Eneas advances to close the distance between the two men, he, Gal, looks straight on past and to a shifting window-curtain in one of the windows nearby, only to return to the old man when he confides what he knows. "And you didn't know she went missing until just now? Nobody here is talking about what happened to her?" he asks, a voice remarkably gentle for a guardsman— but, then, he's not much of a guardsman, yet.

The flipside of wearing one's passions so shallow under one's skin is that it lends itself to openess and honesty. There is no deception, but neither is there any grandstanding in Eneas. Not really. He meant every word he said, and that usually finds purchase in even the hardest of negotiators.
Still, when Helene jumps in to aid, he does not stop her. He does not mind her softer approach, he is just the wrong person to deliver it. Then again, he was not _trying_ to scare the old man and his little troupe that have — literally — his back. Yet.
When he does speak up, however, Eneas nods, shaking the hand when it is offered. "Thank you.", he offers the man, only to be stalled from his own follow up question by Gal, and he nods at the guardsman, to step up. They have their attention, now to capitalize on it.

Helene lets go, her chin nodding and she steps back as Eneas and Gal both speak. Yes, her approach is gentle, but warmth and compassion seem things she and Gwenaelle have in common, and she smiles warmly to the man in gratitude. "Thank you," she says simply, reaching for her coin purse. Even as Gal speaks up, she takes copper from ti and passes it not only to him, but the others there as well. It is not enough to attract unwanted attention, but enough to see them thrugh a few meals at the very least. That done, she returns to Eneas' side.
Helene leans in to his shoulder for a moment, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she whispers something. A kiss is placed on the fabric covering hi bicep, and she looks forward to watch as the man answers.

The man will take the coin, as does his friends nearby when they are passed out. But it is to both Gal and Eneas that the man speaks, "We didn't know she was missing till ye come in here looking for her?" Again, he waves a hand to the street behind them all, "We all been tending to the sick, trying not to get sicker here." Again, his words leave him coughing, a loogie spit off into the slushy dirt at his feet. "Been waiting for the healers.."

Gal does step up when invited, joining the small corona of questioners standing just out of loogie distance from the old man. "She never got back to the temple," he explains the question. "We thought that if something happened to her here, someone might have heard of it. But you saw her on her way back to the temple district?" he confirms, rhetorically, looking to Eneas, then to Helene, "That should narrow down the area to question people in, at least."

A nod is given to Helene's whispered words, and Eneas does slide a hand around her waist for a moment, turn to place a peck against her head, where it may lay thanks to the height difference. It is not as much as a whisper, but a mouthing of the words in response, 'I know. I know.'.
When Gal takes over the questioning for the moment, Enead does let his arm slip away again, however, from around Helene. He needs it free to be able to draw a blade if needed, and while the lot seem helpful enough, Eneas is not in the habbit to let his guard down quite as much. "I am afraid there won't be any healer that will come here, until she is found. People are going missing. An adept of the Salons, and her is what we know of.", he points out. "The sooner she is found, the better for everyone, Monsieur. You know the docks than any of us, I bet. Where might be places that she might disappear without anyone noticing? And whom to ask about anything unusual around those places?".

Helene's eye close for a moment when Eneas lays his chin against her head, sighing softly, thecorners of her lips turning up for the briefest of moments before his guard is back up and hers as well. "I can ask Jean-Marc to escort you to the Temple for healing though, and perhaps to bring at least some supplies back here. He is my guard, he should be here any time now with the food." She takes a breath and looks to Eneas then Gal adding, "And after this I can ask at the Salon, see if there is anything I can learn about the young adept's disappearance."
Speak of the devil as they say, for it si as she considers their next steps that Jen Marc does indeed return, bearing baskets of food and tea as promised, which, with a single motion from Helene he distributes. If asked about blankets, a pormise si made for later in the evening.

The old man does consider Gal's question, but then shakes his head, "She left out that way.." He does point off into another direction, away from the docks, and back into town that would likely lead one to the temple area in a straighter fashion. It's all the old man has to give on where the priestess went after leaving Harpoon Lane. Another coughing spell takes his breath, leaving him panting as he leans over, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. When the food and tea arrive, those there will be glad of it, one taking off some to nearby residents that are likely down sicker than others.

scene fades

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