It’s cleaning day at the Rookery and regardless of what anyone says, Eameia, the hostess and part owner of the business puts everyone to work including her brother and a freeloading changeling. Denying the female fellblood has far worse consequences than doing menial labor, so there is little fuss put up by anyone.

Usually Cyran keeps the place pretty tidy, but with his orphanage and new elf friend needing his attention, some of the upkeep of the bar has fallen back on its other residents. Iryla and Askr however seemed to be elsewhere. Iryla likely hanging out with Cirice while Askr visits Nyr down at the Desert Rose. 

While Snow and Eirynor work on cleaning up the storage room and kitchen in the back, sorting through the stock, throwing out anything past its prime and making a list of things that need to be restocked, Eameia has Caedes and Zarius scrubbing the ceilings since they can actually get up there without hurting themselves.^[1] In theory. Zarius holds the handle of a bucket with sudsy water by his tail as they work their way across the lounge.^[2] Eameia even gave Charlotte a little rag to dust the light fixtures.

Zarius wipes his brow and looks down at his sister as she wipes down the seats and table tops. “You do know that no one looks at the ceiling around here, right?”

“I know,” she replies as she reorganizes the bottles on the wall. “That is why it gets neglected and gross.”

He rolls his eyes and gives a Caedes as ‘I tried’ look before getting back to cleaning the ceiling.

While everyone is working away, Ebony sits on the window, tail twitching back and forth as she watches the people pass by in the street outside. Her eyes lock on to one person approaching the bar out of the falling ash. She lets out a little squeak of a meow when they enter the building.

Eameia looks over from her task. She doesn’t recognize the newcomer and it is a little odd for someone to drop in so early in the day. They usually don’t see many customers until the evening.

“Hello, welcome to the Rookery.” She greets the newcomer as they cross the threshold.

Zarius glances towards the newcomer and a wide smile spreads across face as he recognizes who they are. Passing the bucket off to Caedes which puts the changeling in an awkward position, the fellblood drops from the ceiling and lands on his feet.^[3]

“Vail, good to see you are still kicking around. I was wondering if you would ever show your face here or not.”

It really had been some time since he last saw the Darkveil denizen on the run. They had met back in Sol City only to travel to the Pale City in order to sabotage a shipment destined for the Arid Mesa. Zarius knew the young man would not likely return to Darkveil until he felt he could probably protect himself from whatever it was he was running from in the first place. He seemed to be doing well for himself, all things considered. 

---

[1]Spider Silk Boots
[2] Prehensile Tail
[3] Cats Grace

SPOILER: Click to show

Description: You have found yourself caught up in one of these earthquakes, one of the biggest yet. While spending time in one of Charon's popular cities, the earth begins to shake, cracking open and throwing the city into chaos. Buildings collapse, fires spread and lava seeps from a massive fissure that has sprouted open, leaving those in the city to run for their lives. As a brave, capable member of Charon, you are needed to help evacuate the city, tend to the wounded and assist civilians in getting to safety. The destruction is massive, rendering a small portion of the city destroyed and in need of repairs, but fixing things comes later, the priority now is to survive!

Vail's eyes stare forward, focused only on his destination as he feels the nostalgic sensation of ashfall against his open left hand. The scarf Cirice had given him rested on the bridge of his nose, obscuring the majority of his face as well as his scars. There was an odd stillness to the city; or perhaps his memories were simply clouded by eight years of travel through more hospitable regions. Either way, it didn't help his sense of unease.

Reaching the town square, he passes by his childhood home of the Dancer’s Den without flinching, having long since accepted that he may never step foot in there again. His destination lay on the other side of the town square, at the base of the old clock tower his young eyes so often observed. The irony of the opposing locales, in relation to his own history, was not lost on him.

Taking his first steps inside the establishment, he is immediately greeted by a female fellblood who seemed a bit surprised by his presence. He pulls down his scarf, confident that he was out of sight of any unwanted eyes.

“Hello, is Zarius around?”

He wasn’t given an answer before the fellblood in question dropped down from the ceiling, his fingers noticeably covered in suds. A smirk forms across Vail’s face as he remembers the fellblood being considerably more soaked the last time he saw him. He considered making a snide remark but held his tongue knowing that Zarius probably saved his life that fateful night.

“I must admit my curiosity was eating away at me. For a multitude of reasons. I’d offer to shake your hand, but it appears you're lacking janitorial staff.” Vail replied as eyes took in the various memorabilia adorning the walls.
“Cirice sends her regards by the way. She gave me a ride to the city. A pretty odd one, that girl, even by our standards.”

In truth, his purpose for visiting the city was more dependent on the fellblood’s knowledge than his own. He had come for work, but his ulterior motives were his priority, and he was quite curious as to whether or not Zarius had figured out who he was and why he had fled Darkveil. He wasn’t planning on getting information for free obviously, he’d leverage his services in exchange for access to the fellblood’s intelligence network. Perhaps he’d even help out around the city. While keeping a low profile of course.

Taking a seat at the bar, he begins to peruse the bar's menu of drinks when a slosh, followed by the sound of several droplets hitting the bar top, interrupt his thoughts.

He looks up to the ceiling, spotting a figure haphazardly handling a bucket full of water.

"How many people does it take to clean a ceiling?" he asks with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

His eyes widened slightly as they took in the magnitude of filth accumulated above his head.

"Apparently you guys aren't very experienced at it."

He sighs as he looks back to the bartender momentarily.
“Just some ale please.” He tells the female fellblood before looking back towards the figure above his head.

"You might as well take a break. You can't scrub my memory like you can the ceiling, and I prefer to not have suds landing in my drink."

This is so incredibly dumb.

He wouldn’t say it out loud, of course; last thing he wants is Eameia chewing him out, but to have he and Zarius hanging up on the ceiling like a couple of bats to deep clean places that only Ebony and Charlotte would ever see seems a little bit… unnecessary. He shares a mildly disappointed glance with Zarius after his noble attempts to get them out of ceiling cleaning duty and offers him a helpless shrug in return.

“I’m pretty sure ‘Spring Cleaning’ is reserved for places that actually see spring.” He sighs to the fellblood as he returns to wiping ash and dust from the tops of the rafters. “No matter how many times we clean the ceiling, it’s just going to get covered in ash again. She knows that, right?”

He hears a squeaking sound from Charlotte, who is currently awkwardly navigating her way around the light fixtures. “Looking good, Char!” He praises her, even though she’s missed a hilarious amount of ash and dust on the light fixture; Charlotte turns to look back at them, beaming cheerfully, but with a rag in her mouth she can’t actually speak. “Make sure you get— uh, the rest of it, too.”

Charlotte taps her legs affirmatively before turning back to the light fixture she’s focusing on.

He chuckles at her eager bobbing and weaving around the lantern in an attempt to get all of the dust; but he is quickly distracted by a tiny mewl and the creak of the door.

He blinks, turning his head to see who’s entered; but in the same moment, he finds himself being passed off a bucket. “Hah? Hey— wait, Zarius!” He hisses after him, but the fellblood has already dropped to the floor, leaving the changeling looking irritably after him after he narrowly saves himself from spilling the whole damn bucket— instead, only spilling a bit on the bar itself. “Tsk… you bastard.” He breathes a hapless sigh as he watches the suds settle down in a mild panic.

Although, his pale eyes narrow in recognition upon the name that leaves Zarius’ lips; he offers a glance to their guest.

Ah, so this is Vail; he's heard some things, albeit, not a lot.

His brows furrow when the stranger’s eyes lift to him.

“Oh, terribly sorry; am I ruining your view?” He apologizes with a smile and a tilt of his head, “Or, maybe you would like to come up here and show the janitorial staff how it’s done?”

Ohhhhhhhh, boy.

There is a real temptation to drop this whole bucket on his head.

He won’t because this is an acquaintance of Zarius’— that, and Eameia would kick his ass and make him clean the floor after the fact— but gods be damned, the temptation is so very there. It would be so easy because he’s right there.

… but he won’t.

Instead, Caedes takes a steady breath to summon his patience, offers Vail an agreeable half-wave despite his irritation over the comment, and simply walks off carrying the bucket that Zarius has left him with. Unfortunately, if he wants to avoid cleaning it up, he can’t quite drop to the floor the same way— so he takes the long route, using the wall as a mid-buffer to get back down to the floor, where Caedes sighs and sets the bucket of suds down near the baseboards.

He throws the rags he’d been using over its rim, and wipes his palms against his thighs as he moves over to join Zarius.

“We prefer to pull our own weight here," Zarius replies to Vail's comment about lacking janitorial staff.

Eameia scoffs. “Only when I make you. If Caedes had any say he’d just let cobwebs build up everywhere.”

Zarius chuckles, that was probably true, but more because Caedes can’t say no to Charlotte and less from him being lazy or a slob.

“Ah, Miss Cirice, yes she is a bit quirky. I suppose it is not too surprising you met her, I have heard she has been throwing my name around a lot.”

He didn’t mind, part of having a big network was that it would grow on its own. The more his name spread across Charon, the easier it made it to make new contacts. Well, so long as the people spreading his name had a favorable opinion of him. He can’t imagine Cirice would have anything bad to say, though she may give some people the wrong idea with her prophetic claims.

“It is easier with two since holding the bucket is a bit tricky.” The fellblood shrugs. “Fair, I would not boast of our ceiling cleaning skills.”

When Vail requests a drink, Eameia nods and pulls a mug out from under the counter after wiping up the mess Caedes made on its surface. “Eirynor! Can you come here please?” She calls to the back room. 

The tall half-elf steps out from the back room and walks over to her. He glances at Vail and gives a silent nod of acknowledgement, though does not offer any verbal greeting.

Eameia then hands the mug she procured from under the counter to him. “Ale for our guest, please.”

Eirynor tilts his head questioningly to which the young fellblood just gestures to get to it. The half-elf sighs and rolls his eyes before heading over to one of the wooden casks against the wall to pour Vail an ale from the tap.

Zarius keeps his focus on Vail. He wasn’t entirely convinced Vail just showed up for some pleasantries and a drink. There was likely something else on the man’s mind and he was just gauging if it was safe to discuss business with the present company. There was no one currently in the Rookery that Zarius didn’t trust, but Vail would have to judge for himself if he was comfortable associating with everyone else in the fellblood’s circle. First few hurdles would be Eameia, his sister, and Caedes, his trusted right hand.

Aaaaand they were off to a grand start. The fellblood resists facepalming at the exchange between the thief and the assassin. Really, he should have seen this coming. Zarius had somehow forgotten that both Vail and Caedes were sassy full grown brats. This would be either a disaster, or they would become best friends and be a double pain in his neck.

Eirynor walks over and slides the mug of ale over to Vail as requested before heading back into the kitchen to help Snow. Eameia takes a seat next to the bar and just watches her brother and Caedes interact with this new ally.

“To be fair, I never would have noticed the ceiling if you weren’t cleaning it to begin with, so don’t take any offense.”

His eyes narrow in on a strange movement near the overhead figure. It was some manner of arachnid and it appeared to be… cleaning? Maybe it was making space for a web? It was certainly a stranger sight than anything he was expecting today.

A smirk emerges on Vail’s face at the overhead figure’s remark. He took no insult to the retort, if anything it brought him joy. It was good to know that there was someone around the fellblood with an attitude to break up his no-nonsense demeanor. He turns back to Zarius with a grin.

“I like this one, he’s got some bite to him.”

The half elf’s entrance drew his back attention towards the bar. His quiet demeanor said more about his state than any words could. Vail returns his nod with a calming smile to accompany it, clearly the bartender was somewhat annoyed. Whether it be from having to work so early or some other issue, he couldn’t tell.

As the overhead figure made his way down from the rafters, Vail was finally allowed to see him with some proper lighting. He was a pale man, but in a different way from your usual ash lander, there was almost something otherworldly about him. Based on his garb, he was likely in the profession as Zarius; creeping around in the shadows causing all manner of mischief when no one was looking. Perhaps they would work together sometime soon. If he was capable of handling himself when a situation got out of hand of course.

As the man approaches Zarius, Vail extends his wrapped right hand to the stranger.

“The name’s Vail, I have a feeling we are going to get along just fine.”

The half elf approached the bar again, this time carrying a full glass of ale with a considerable amount of foam topping it, causing Vail’s eyes to light up in delight. He had promised himself a cold drink as a reward for coming to his old home after all this time. Maybe he would even pay for it this time.

“Thank you very much.” he says, catching the sliding glass of cold ale with his left hand.

He turns to face the fellblood and his companion with a sly smile, glass in hand. The pair seemed to fit well together, a black and white pair of troublemakers; no doubt they were the talk of the town.

“I have come to test you, or rather, your intelligence network. I want to know whether you have unveiled a truth I already possess. If you do, you may well have an answer to my question. If not, I wish to elucidate that mystery with your assistance.”

He took a long sip of his drink before placing it back on the bar top with a content smile.

“Ahh, wonderful stuff, give my regards to the bartender.” he beamed to the female fellblood as he held his smile.

“Excuse me?” Caedes offer Eameia a vaguely offended glance in the midst of wiping his palms on the thighs of his pants. “Listen, cobwebs tend to happen when you live with a literal spider.” Charlotte looks quizzically down at them from up above, previously too busy to be paying attention. She’s still missing a comical amount of dirt on that lantern up above. “What am I supposed to tell her? Sorry, Char, looks like Eameia needs you to starve for aesthetic reasons?” There’s a playful lilt in his tone amongst the snide commentary.

“Besides, has the rookery ever had pest problems since we showed up?” He opens his arms in a shrug, a sly smirk on his face as he steps up next to Zarius, arms lowering again. “Aside from Ebony, that is; the only pest she’s never caught, and probably never will…” He looks towards the feline menace with a tilt of his head and an over-dramatic sigh; he shifts one hand to rest on a tilted hip when he looks back to the man.

His pale gaze shifts only slightly as he studies their newest arrival, but his lopsided smile never really fades. He takes in the man’s appearance on the surface; the bandages, the crimson eyes, the scars; there’s something about him that makes something familiar whisper displeased hushes within the back of his mind.

The feeling twists strangely.

Still, he doesn’t miss a beat when Vail extends his hand upon his approach; after years of doing surface judgements in his job without too much open staring, it’s fairly easy to run through those same muscle motions. He reaches out with his free hand, grasping his wrapped palm in a firm handshake.

He’s not surprised a man like Vail is from Darkveil; the life can be merciless. Most of his own scars lie hidden beneath his layers, and those which don't benefit from his natural abilities; but some aren’t so lucky.

“Caedes,” the changeling greets with a sardonic chuckle. “The bite’s not all I’ve got proficiency with. Nice to meet you.” He pulls back when their introduction has finished, marked by the sound of a sliding glass across the bar when Eirynor’s finished preparing his drink. Caedes brushes his fingers through locks of white hair, offering Zarius an unspoken, but quizzical glance over the arrival of the man at the bar counter.

When Vail turns back to them, his attention displaces back to him; he lets his hair slip between his fingers while Vail start to talk. The changeling’s posture shifts slightly during his monologue; arms moving to cross beneath his chest. His gaze briefly follows Vail’s motions as he turns back to the bar top, his smile bright when he compliments Eirynor’s bartending.

Caedes offers Zarius a glance, allowing him to lead the conversation given his familiarity with the man; although the fellblood had offered him glimpses into his encounters, it wasn't exactly thorough by any means.

In the meantime, Charlotte begins to tap her way across the ceiling, heading towards where Caedes had left the bucket and rags to take a break. The lantern is still pretty covered in dust.

Eameia rolls her eyes, it wasn't the first time she heard excuses from the changeling. Children. All of them. This place would still be falling apart if it wasn't for her efforts and she wasn't about to allow a bunch of boys to make a mess of it because they thought they were above doing a few chores.

Sure, they could afford to have someone else do it, but that would involve background checks and interrogations and mind reading spells and at that point it would just be simpler for the boys to get off their asses and pick up a mop. Besides, none of them wanted to deal with the consequences of denying her a request. 

"You are so full of it, I hope you know that," Eameia responds to the changeling.

She could make a comment that Caedes was just as much a pest as the kitten with his skulking around in the shadows and way of twisting words and thinking he's way funnier than he actually is.

Okay.

She might still be a little salty about some...things that happened not that long ago, but overall she has done her best not to be too hard on him. At least while her brother was around. Which Caedes rarely ever was around her without Zarius also being present which means that she has to put up with both of their snark and denial.

There was one thing they could all agree on though, and that was that no one could really explain the almost supernatural abilities of the pitch black kitten that haunts the Rookery even in broad daylight.

When Caedes looks over towards the eldritch horror, her round gold eyes are locked on him. It was a good thing she was so small, otherwise she probably would satiate her taste for pale undead changeling flesh. Her tail lashes back and forth as her hind haunches wiggle in anticipation of making a mad dash for the assassin's ankles. A sound strategy for bringing down prey that towered over her.

No one else seems to pay any attention to the imminent attack as they entertained their guest. 

Zarius does give Caedes a little bit of a head tilt at the bite comment. That joke might have been a little on the nose. He looks back at Vail as he explains why he's decided to finally visit. 

The fellblood sighs. "You do not have to go through such efforts to test me or my network." Why was Vail like this? Things didn't have to be so complicated all the time. "It sounds like this is just some coy request for help. You can just ask, you know."

"No, no, this is clearly the more fun way to do things," Eameia says with a grin on her face.

If Vail wanted to challenge their ability to gather information, let him. She would rise to the occasion even if her brother wouldn't for whatever reason. 

Eameia returns Vail's smile. “Thank you for the compliment, but I am not the bartender. My name is Eameia and I am Zarius' sister and part owner of the bar,” she clarifies before gesturing to the tall half-elf. “Eirynor here is the bartender.”

The tall half-elf looks down at Vail with an unimpressed look on his face. The man was pretty protective of Eameia and if Vail wasn't careful the poor guy would find the tip of the half-elf's silver sword stuck in between his ribs.

Zarius shakes his head and meets Vail's gaze. "Well, what is your test then?"

Vail smiles as he watches the Rookery’s staff banter between themselves, he was sure this was a daily occurrence for them. It reminded him of childhood at the Dancer’s Den, albeit a lot less rowdy. The atmosphere was calm here, so much so that the little cat by the window showed no concern, despite the room being full of shadowy figures.

As he shook the changeling’s hand, his smile only widened.

“Jeez, I didn’t expect Zarius to surround himself with such friendly company. Do you know how long it took me to get a simple handshake out of him?” He exclaims in a sarcastic tone.

He took a swig from his cold glass as Caedes joined his companion, an action he soon regretted as the fellblood sighed and bemoaned his requests. He gulps down the rest of his drink as he stifles the laughter overflowing from within him. He looks at Zarius with a coy grin as he places his glass down.

"That's quite a statement from someone who was so curious, yet so evasive last time we met. Why would I reveal my intentions so easily without testing you first? You could very well deny me and give whatever information I reveal to some rather unsavory parties." he replies, mocking the man’s frustration.

The female fellblood's eagerness surprised Vail. Perhaps she was involved in Zarius’ network, after all, all sorts of information flies when lips are loosened by alcohol. More importantly he appears to have inadvertently insulted the bartender, much to his dismay. Looking up, he meets Eirynor's glare with a raised eyebrow. Whatever the man was thinking, he was welcome to try it, although it probably wouldn't end well for anyone involved. Not wanting to cause a scene however, he simply smiles up to the stoic figure.

"I appreciate your generous hospitality Eirynor."

He looks back to Eameia with an excited expression, eager to torment Zarius via his sister.

"So, you're his sister? Tell me, has he always been such a stick in the mud? The last time we met he interrupted my peaceful night of drinking with his overly curious eyes. He was stone cold then as well, unwilling to share anything and unwilling to play along with any act that might draw suspicion away from the two ash landers conniving in the dark corner of the tavern."

With his ribbing concluded, he turns to face the fellblood in question with a pleased grin.

“The test is a single question. I fled Darkveil seven, actually it might have been eight years ago. I simply want to know if you’ve figured out why. Here is a hint; I was a Bloodied Eye. I’m sure you’ve heard of them, the family that always finds some way to get what they desire. I believe their motto was something along the lines of: 'Whether it be in the shadows or the streets, a Bloodied Eye never loses sight of their prize.' Rather tacky if I do say so myself."

Before the fellblood could answer, he tilted his head, looking past Zarius, to the otherworldly figure by his side.

"Tell me Caedes, have you been in Darkveil long? I grew up just across the square from this place. All sorts of rumors and legends fly around there. What kind of rumors have you heard?"

Caedes chuckles, finding Vail’s tone significantly more tolerable when the sarcasm isn’t directed at him. “Oh, I can only imagine; but isn’t that part of the fun?” He releases Vail’s hand, resting his hands on a cocked hip while he listens to the banter between Eameia and Zarius; he offers the charcoal fellblood’s frustration a tilt of the head— but before he can offer any input— he gasps.

“Fffuck’s sake—” The changeling jumps when the obsidian fluff latches onto the ankle of his boots with full intent to maim, or kill, or most likely: both.

He kicks up a boot, picking up the little black fur ball with the motion. “Ebony, are you serious?” And as it turns out, she is in fact serious; there’s an unfortunate sound of claws ripping into the leather of his boots as she kicks the ever-loving shit out of them, then promptly launches herself off behind the bar with skittering claws and paws across the newly mopped Rookery floor. Caedes gazes after her, utterly unbemused by the assault on his person; and as he locks eyes with the little shadow’s massive amber irises, he steps closer to Zarius with a slight scoff before turning to look at Vail with an exasperated expression.

“Your cat is feral.” He sighs at the fellblood before crossing his arms over his chest.

He recollects himself after a breath; a small weight against the back of his leg makes him think that Ebony’s come back— but upon a swift glance over his shoulder, he realizes it’s Charlotte. She creeps up his back, lanky legs peeking over his shoulders while he listens to Vail’s ‘hint’ that he offers to Zarius.

A Bloodied Eye?

Naturally, his gaze drifts to Vail; an ironic family to have originated from, given the stranger’s condition; but he’ll keep that thought to himself. He can’t say he knows much of the Bloodied Eye in particular detail, but he has heard of their name; granted, they were never too fondly spoken of in most of his circles…

Then again, very few ever really were seen past an annoyance.

Upon address, Caedes blinks; he offers Vail a lopsided smile, “Long enough,” he answers vaguely, “Long enough to have heard all kinds of things; it really depends on what you’re looking for, doesn’t it? There’s legends of old hags who steal the bodies of beautiful young women on the blood moon, and legends of reaping jackals wandering the streets; just like there’s rumors of turf wars, rats, runners, and how the butcher in the lower district is selling some… unique cuts of meat.”

He rolls a hand dismissively, a chuckle escaping between his lips.

“From the sounds of things, you’re likely not too interested in the common day-to-day rumors; or the urban legends, though, are you? Looking for something a little closer to home, I would assume?”

Zarius just gives Vail an unimpressed look which is mirrored by Eirynor moments later.

Eameia snickers at how the two boys were acting before she replies to Vail’s question. “No, he is not usually like that. You must have annoyed him,” she teases.

The older fellblood shrugs. “Unfortunately, I have been quite preoccupied with more pressing matters than your history. I do not mean to offend but there has been a lot of distractions as of late and such an investigation has not been a priority.”

His sister on the other hand, narrows her eyes at Vail as if trying to discern something from the details of his face. She is just about to speak when Ebony suddenly darts across the room again and scurries under a table as if spooked by something.

There's a low rumbling noise somewhere off in the distance that rattles the bottles on the shelves. One closer to the edge of one of the shelves tips precariously from the slight vibration.

Eirynor steps forward quickly and just catches the bottle as it topples from the shelf. He looks at the bottle as he stands back up straight then he glances over at Eameia who shares a concerned expression.

There isn't a moment to breathe before the whole of the Rookery suddenly shakes violently, the earth shifting deep below its foundation. The stone tower cracks and the wooden frame creaks and bends under the strain of the structure flexing.

Bottles smash onto the floor as Eirynor holds up his arms to shield his face from the flying shards of glass. There's a loud crash and yowl from the back room where Snow is.

Zarius grips the edge of the countertop and reaches out to steady Caedes. Wood splinters and ash rains down from the ceiling as the tremors worsen and a plume of dust erupts from the stairwell leading up to the clocktower. A deafening cracking noise echoes throughout the space.

Eameia jumps up from her seat and rushes to the center of the room and throws her hands up just as one of the heavy wooden beams above their heads breaks and comes crashing down from the weight of the ceiling. A thin magical aura surrounds the beam and it comes to a standstill, suspended in midair.

“Everyone get out! I do not know how long I can hold it!” Eameia shouts as her magic strains to keep the roof from coming down on top of all of them.

Zarius pushes Caedes and Vail. "Go!" He then rushes to the backroom to see if Snow is okay.

The fellblood rushes over and starts clearing the rubble as quickly as he can.

Eirynor rushes around the bar and stays at Eameia's side, though glances nervously at the failing supports and growing cracks in the walls.

Vail dons a polite smile as Caedes answers his question with another just as inquisitive.
“You are correct in your assumption; I’m interested in conspiracies and cover-ups. The kind of half-truths that so many build conclusions out of. After all, isn’t that the purpose of an information network? To find that which others don’t want you to know?”

He gives a nonchalant shrug as Zarius answers his request. In all honesty, it didn’t really matter whether the fellblood had found anything or not, his lack of knowledge simply slowed down Vail's search. This would have been an issue before, when he was still afraid of the Fathers’ prying eyes, but now he was more than ready to face whatever ill intent may come for him.

“Perfectly understandable, no one could have predicted all the strange events that have occurred since we last met. I’m sure you have your hands full with all manner of issues. Even though I haven’t been in Darkveil in quite some time, I can tell that there is some manner of unease among the populace; as if they are waiting for the same ills that plagued the rest of Charon to finally reach them. That’s partially why I’m here as well, to help out however I can. For a price, of course.”

Vail sits in silence for several seconds, allowing time for anyone in the room to give their input. Before the conversation could continue however, the small cat he had spotted earlier scurries away, as if it had sensed something everyone else couldn’t.

Suddenly the whole room begins to shake, causing the little ale he has left in glass to jump out onto his hand. He quickly glances down to the wet sensation before looking back to Zarius with a confused expression. Before he can ask the fellblood if this was a common occurrence, the shaking intensifies to a concerning degree, and the room is quickly thrown into chaos as everything not nailed down begins to fall. Vail grips^[1] the bar counter with his bandaged hand as he rises to his feet.

“Fuck. I really had to open my big mouth, didn't I?”

While the room is filled with the sounds of glass braking and wood straining, one noise penetrates through the cacophony; a lone howl from the back of the establishment. A numbing tingle begins to emerge from his right arm, eliciting far more concern than the collapsing ceiling.

As Zarius pushes Caedes and him away, he quickly contemplates his next move. Running outside would likely end poorly; the whole city must be in an uproar and would likely set off his condition instantly. While he could follow Caedes, there’s no telling how long it would take before the yowling stopped and he’d rather not be alone with someone unaware if his condition did trigger.

“Sorry, but I can’t exactly run away as others suffer, don’t worry about me.” He says to the stark white man sternly before turning to pursue Zarius.

As he catches up with the fellblood, he states his reasoning coldly before Zarius has a chance to argue.

“I would rather not have a repeat of last time. Let's rescue them quickly.”

---

[1]Iron Grip

“Do you answer questions with questions often? I bet you’re fun at parties.” The changeling chuckles; he crosses his arms while Zarius speaks, idling attention on Vail as words are exchanged. The spoken mention of some ill plague falling across Charon sinks weirdly in his chest; bringing back remnants of starlight and void; smoke and mirrors; which he has done his damndest to shake off in the quiet of night. “Mercenary work… how noble of you... Darkveil is rarely short on that.” He blinks slowly, offering Vail a smarmy grin, when he notices something from his peripheral vision.

Caedes looks over his shoulder when he sees a little black bundle zip across the room yet again— but there’s something odd about the way she’s moving. He’s lived here long enough to know most of Ebony’s body language; she’s not repositioning herself for another hunt and she’s not playing; there’s something panicked in her body language.

Charlotte sinks anxiously against his back seconds later.

He furrows his brows, offering Zarius a glance from the corner of his eyes before he feels the rumbling through the heels of his boots. Caedes winces, turning his head to look at the metallic ringing of the bottles on the shelf— one caught swiftly by Eirynor as it topples—

— but before he can eek out a word, the earth beneath them lurches.

The changeling staggers, only finding his footing after grabbing Zarius’ wrist for stability. “What the hell!?” But his voice is drowned by the noise— the rattling bottles, the creaking wood, and the crashing. He hears a yowl from the back room in the same moment dust erupts from the staircase, funneling shards of wood and debris down to the bottom floor like a pluming eruption; and then Eameia is streaking past them in the same moment that splinters begin to fall from above.

It all happens too fast for him to truly process it; if he were any kind of alive, he might feel some breadth of adrenaline in this moment, as he glances up at the thin aura of Eameia’s magic that separates the collapsing roof from those down below. One of the lanterns from up high fall, cracking against one of the rattled tables— but a certain sound, the howl from the back— lingers in his mind.

Snow.

He releases Zarius’ arm when the fellblood pushes him towards the exit; and Caedes offers the fellblood an annoyed glance— one which quickly turns to concern when Zarius bolts in the opposite direction. He quickly turns to sprint after him; but instead, finds himself looking after Vail as the man pursues Zarius to the backroom where Snow had been; and he staggers to a quick halt, boots squeaking against the cracked wooden floor.

He grits his teeth, contemplating in a brief moment of hesitation and lingering concern for the fellblood and catfolk, before sharply changing direction. In a blink, he turns and rushes to join Eameia and Eirynor. “Don’t die!” He barks back at them without halting; with the lights out, the shadows are plenty for him to work with, at the very least.

Charlotte clings tightly to his back, her instincts causing her to being flickering into invisibility in the face of a danger she can’t quite comprehend.

Caedes lifts a hand, pulling the shadows from the top corner of the rookery as though they were connected to him; and with a throw of his wrist, the shadows plunge towards the diagonal corner of the roof, as close as he can possibly manage without disturbing Eameia’s flow of magic. They snap into the corner, thinner tendrils branching out from the origin like veins, or perhaps, the thin supports of a spider’s web. ^{(1. Spidersilk Tattoo)}

His rushed steps transition into a skid when he ducks down; in a fluid motion, he stoops low enough to grab Ebony by the collar of her neck without fully stopping his momentum. He pulls her close to his chest despite any of her fussing; and looks up to repeat the process with the other corner of the Rookery as he skirts to a halt near Eirynor.

Serpentine shadows swish across the roof — until an inky, shadowed swath has joined Eameia’s visible stream of magic to assist in holding up the collapsing roof. ^{(2. Web)}

Zarius shoots Vail a look that communicates that he's not pleased with the rogue's blatant disobedience given the circumstances. But there is no time to start an argument with the building literally crumbling around them.

He nods and rushes to the back room where the tremors tore part of the roof free from the rest of the building, weakening the structure enough that the back wall came toppling down, pinning the unlucky catfolk underneath it amongst crushed barrels and burlap sacks filled with provisions for the tavern. 

Snow is trapped under the rubble, a large piece of the wall having knocked them down and leaving only their head and one arm sticking out from underneath it. The catfolk grits their teeth and rakes their claws against the floorboards, but they have no way to get any leverage to try and escape on their own. The fur around the back of their head starts to turn a red color as blood from the bludgeoning seeps through their pelt. 

The fellblood quickly takes note of the instability of the room. With the ground still shifting beneath them, there was no telling when the rest of the roof and walls would fall inward. They would have to move quickly and carefully to safely free the catfolk. 

"Keep an eye on the walls and ceiling, make sure not to get trapped as well." He rushes forward and starts quickly and carefully removing the heavy pieces of stone, wood, and shingles. "Snow, talk to me. If you feel something shift, you need to tell us."

The catfolk is in a panic but nods. "Th-the pressure is on my back and shoulder. I think my legs are okay."

Zarius nods and waves Vail over to tag team lifting a the piece pinning the catfolk down. "Lift it slow and steady."

There's another tremor and the fellblood staggers, jamming his foot against some rubble to steady himself and glancing up at the precarious state of the remaining roof over them as dust and debris rains down. 

Meanwhile, in the lounge, Eameia's arms shake under the strain of holding up the roof with her magic. She looks at Eirynor and Caedes with a fearful expression.

Ebony is less than helpful and scrambles into Caedes's shirt, clinging to his side with her needle sharp little claws.

There's another burst of dust from the stair case and the roof above them buckles as if something heavier has fallen on top of it. Eameia shouts as she drops to her knees and the ceiling comes down a few feet before the spell and Caedes' web hold it once more. Eirynor helps her back onto her feet, careful to steady her so her concentration is not interrupted.

Little good it would do as there's a groaning noise of wood straining and cracking from below their feet. Another tremor shifts the ground and the lounge floor suddenly drops on one side closest to the clock tower, nearly throwing them all off their feet to tumble down a forty-five degree slope down into one of the collapsed tunnels beneath the Rookery. Eirynor just manages to grab onto Eameia and keep her from falling.

Unfortunately for Caedes, he was on the part that collapsed. 

It was getting increasingly clear that if they did not get out soon, the entire structure would bury them alive. Eameia looks at Eirynor with fear in her eyes and then she shouts at Caedes again. "Caedes! Please, we need to get out now!"

Zarius’s grimace was all the confirmation Vail needed as he followed the fellblood to the backroom. The hall was bathed in pure darkness due to the tremors knocking loose a lantern from the lounge, something that surely would have been an issue for more scrupulous individuals. Luckily, everyone here likely had their fair share when it came to working in the dark.

The surrounding darkness was pierced as they entered the backroom.The roof had collapsed inward, allowing the dim light of Darkveil’s overcast sky to leak in as well as bits of volcanic ash that were previously resting above. Vail ponders the possibility of Drakolt going off as he looks to light. This situation was unprecedented in his lifetime, and should the looming volcano erupt, a collapsing building would be the least of their problems.

His despairing thoughts are broken as Zarius rushes across the room, drawing his attention to the catfolk pinned underneath a collapsed wall. He offers no protest as the fellblood gestures for his assistance. He moves carefully through the scattered debris, before reaching the piece of stone resting against Snow’s back. “I can’t promise that we can hold this thing off of you for long, so the second you feel the pressure dissipate, you crawl out of there, got it?”

He doesn’t wait for Snow’s answer before he begins lifting. The weight of the stone is substantial; if anything, Snow was lucky to still be alive and conscious judging by the blood on the back of their head. After lifting the stone several inches, the catfolk crawls out, and starts to struggle to their feet. Their timing was impeccable, seeing as Vail’s strength was beginning to give as he lowered the stone back down to the floor at a much faster pace than he had lifted it. He looks at Zarius as he gestures his head towards the door, signifying that they should depart.

He walks past Snow as they rise to their feet, only turning to face the catfolk as he approaches the center of the room. “We’ll get your wounds treated as soon we get somewhere safe, for now we need to focus on getting out of-”

His words are interrupted by the sounds of creaking wood, as the floor beneath Snow suddenly gives way, opening into some manner of tunnel below. The catfolk can only let out a yelp of surprise as they throw their unwounded hand upward in desperation.

As the cry reaches Vail’s ears, his mind suddenly goes blank and his vision goes dark; his body, on the other hand, does not hesitate. His left hand immediately grasps onto the nearest pillar^[1] as his right arm extends outwards^[2], unraveling the wrappings binding it as it rapidly descends after catfolk. His hand grasps Snow’s outstretched hand, stopping their plummet, before his arm curls downward to their wrist for a firmer grasp. Still in a panic, the catfolk scrambles in midair, inadvertently digging their claws into his arm, and causing Vail's body to focus more on steadying itself rather than lifting. Vail’s breathing slows as a soft glow^[3] travels up his arm, reaching the panicked Snow who quickly begins to calm down.

As his arm slowly begins to retract to its normal length, Vail’s head turns to Zarius with an unyielding stare, as if waiting for any sudden movements. Once the catfolk was back on solid ground, he releases his grasp, allowing his pale gray arm to return to its normal length, fingers still aglow. No words are spoken as he continues to stare at Zarius for a few more seconds, before his head drops momentarily.

Light returns to Vail’s eyes as quickly as it had dissipated. Still reacting to the floor’s collapse beside him, he peers downward, looking for Snow in a panic. Finding no one below, he quickly looks upward, spotting the fellblood and catfolk safe and sound.
“Did you-?”
He stops himself as he notices the wrapping missing from his right arm, as well as the thin droplets of blood emanating from the claw marks. His mind races, trying to process what occurred in that brief moment of darkness; this was the last thing he expected to happen, especially considering the last time he had blacked-out.

Suddenly, another rumble pulls him out of his daze and he looks to his companions with a no-nonsense expression.
“Let’s move, we’re not out of this yet.”

---

[1] Iron Grip
[2] Soft Body
[3] Bare Hands: Holy Enchantment

“Shit,” the curse is uttered beneath his breath as he looks up towards the straining ceiling, canines bared in his grimace; there’s a deep-seated reluctance to leave the Rookery while Zarius, Snow, and Vail are still within the building; but Eameia and Eirynor are here and need to get to safety.

He turns back to them, trying to support Ebony in his shirt. “We need to-”

The groan of another collapse drowns out anything he might have tried to say; dust explodes from the yawning mouth of the stairway. Caedes winces, arching his back to hold Ebony despite the little monster’s (incredibly painful) scratching and clinging. Charlotte sinks down to lie flat against him with the assassin’s full body flinch.

The weight of the roof’s collapse begins to strain the obsidian webs assisting Eameia’s magic; the dark fibres which weave them together begin to visibly fray. Threads snap with drowned pops, struggling to maintain their structure in the face of the weight of the caving ceiling; but Caedes can’t even acknowledge, nor fix it, before the floor drops out beneath him.

His sound of surprise is drowned by the sound of the collapse above and below; but, luckily, he’s quick enough to act before he can topple down into a pit of splintered wood and debris. After dropping some ways, Caedes slams his throwing knife into what’s left of the wood he’d been standing on moments before. The wood shrieks and hisses as his dead weight carves a jagged line into the flooring; and the sudden stop leaves a hell of an ache in the palm of his hand and wrist. ^{(1. Spidersilk Boots)}

He scrabbles at the wood with the bottoms of his heels, managing to connect enough to give himself a grip. He gasps, never loosening his hold on Ebony through his shirt, and coughs against the dust that has exploded below from the collapse.

There is one problem, though.

“Char!?”

Panic fills Caedes’ strained voice for a brief moment when he realizes there’s a significant lack of weight on him; but it’s quickly absolved when he spots the black widow below. “_Here…” Charlotte dangles from the edge of the wood by a (literal) thread, but one of her legs appears angled strangely; as if she took a tumble before she was able to catch herself. The weight in his chest heavies at the sight of her injury; but Charlotte manages to swing her way back onto the wooden flooring.

She avoids using her bent leg as she climbs back towards him.

Caedes looks up towards the sound of Eameia’s voice, “Then go!” He shouts back, allowing Ebony to cling to him for dear life for just a moment to reach down far enough for Charlotte to have something to hold onto. “I’ll be right behind you!”

Lunala’s fucking tits, the cat has sharp claws; he can feel her burrowing into his side like a gods-damned vice with or without his support.

The positives, however, are that Ebony being in his shirt really keeps his hands free.

The moment Charlotte latches onto him, he pulls her up; Charlotte wobbles a little as she climbs onto his shoulder; and Caedes pushes against the wood flooring to scale it with the leverage of his knife ^{(2. Surface Scaling)}, and goes back to supporting Ebony before she fully tears him to shreds.

Have you found Snow?

It’s been a while since he’s really needed to use that mental connection with Zarius, but he has no way to actually communicate with the fellblood, otherwise ^{(3. Red Rogue Hood)}. Caedes pulls himself over the edge of the collapsed portion of the floor; above, the webs continue to fray, groaning beneath the weight of the ceiling.

Because you all need to get out, now.

He scrambles up to his feet, leaving his throwing knife embedded in the floor in his rush to rejoin Eirynor and Eameia; who, if they haven’t already left, he ushers towards the exit.