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Read Legends of Cobalt from the beginning:
Do We Run
“Something isn’t right here.” Bucephalus closed the door to our room and leaned against it.
Wyanet sat on the bed. “Are you referring to the little care given to a girl being murdered, or a priest abandoning his mission?”
Bucephalus huffed. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Stop it. Both of you,” I sat down in the desk chair and leaned back.
‘We’re going to hunt Jack down, aren’t we?” Phebes slumped in her chair.
“I thought you said the three of you weren’t heroes.”
“We’re not, but innocent people are in danger, and the people who can do something won’t listen.” I countered.
“We should spend some time today asking around about this Jack,” Wyanet suggested.
“Or, we could leave town today. Head north until we find a port and book a ship to the Isle of the Gods.” Bucephalus offered.
“No,” Wyanet stood up. “These people need help, and I will not leave them to their fates.” She slid her club into her belt. “If you wish to leave, you are free to do so, bt you will be travelling alone.”
Bucephalus looked at me.
“I suggested staying in the first place, and I am not abandoning my friends.”
“I need a drink,” Bucephalus sighed and left the room.
“Where are we going first?” Phebes pulled her armour on.
“We should speak with a peacekeeper. The information they have will be better than the rumours from the town’s folk.” Wyanet tied on her cloak.
I fastened my new sword to my belt. “Irven might know something, and he seemed amiable enough.”
Bucephalus scowled at us as we walked out the front door.
Grey clouds replaced the fine misty rain. Moisture slick cobblestone streets glistened as the city continued in its lifeless cycle.
“You folks leaving us already?” Irven smiled as we approached him. “I didn’t think we were that bad.”
“Actually,” I stepped forward, my hand on my sword hilt. “We have some questions you could be able to answer.”
Irven clapped his hands together. “Great! I see you found Rory.”
“What do you know about the Ripper?” Phebes blurted out.
The smile on Irven’s face vanished. “You’ve heard about him then?”
“Jack is a she, not he, and we met her,” Wyanet replied.
“Step into my office. All of you. Quickly.”
Irven ushered us into a cramped room attached to the gatehouse. A barrel bursting with arrows and another with crossbow bolts sat beside the door. A handful of spears leaned against one wall.
Irven closed the door and shuffled through us to his desk. “Have you spoken with anyone about Jack?”
“An Inspector asked us about the dead woman we found.” Phebes bumped into the spears and they all fell into one corner.
“We wish to help catch The Ripper, but we need more information?” Wyanet stated.
Irven frowned. “I can’t give you much without losing my job. What I can tell you is The Ripper is a mass murderer. He targets prostitutes and has killed nearly one hundred women. But, you say Jack is a woman?”
“Yes, The Ripper is a woman,” Wyanet replied.
“I’d say a girl is more accurate. She’s in her early teens, maybe,” I interjected.
“What did the Inspector say when you told them?”
“They ignored us. They believe the girl to be an accomplice, not the murderer,” Wyanet replied.
“How do you know it was her?”
“I spoke to her, or she spoke to me,” I replied.
Irven steepled his fingers. “Okay, I’ll pass it along to my superiors.” He leaned back in his chair. “I can’t tell you anything else, but I can give you several warnings.” He held up a finger. “One, don’t look like a prostitute.” He held up another finger. “Two, don’t go asking questions about The Ripper around town. The people are scared enough as it is and you’re not going to get an answer.” Irven held out his thumb. “And third, stay out of the constabulary’s way. They have enough problems without wandering vigilantes getting in the way.”
Wyanet puffed out her chest. “You expect us to stand idle while more people die?”
“My advice,” Irven sighed. “Leave Vercingetorix as soon as you can. There’s not much good left in this city, and more of it vanishes every day.” Irven grabbed a quill and a blank piece of parchment. “Go on, I’ve got work to do.”
Phebes walked behind Wyanet and I. “What now? If they don’t want us talking to people or getting involved, are we going to leave? Stay and get arrested? Forget everything and leave with Ceph?”
“We will talk to Bella first,” Wyanet replied. “She might know more. We will decide after.”
A warm gentle breeze caressed the back of my neck. I stopped walking and looked around. “Where are we?”
“I dunno, we didn’t come this way yesterday.” Phebes stopped beside me.
My eyes settled on a dilapidated octagonal building. A barren oak tree grew out of the centre of the building’s roof.
“Hey, Wy, can we check this out quick?”
Wyanet came back and stood beside me. “Something isn’t right here.”
I walked up to the building and entered where the door should have been. Stained glass of a myriad of colours crunched beneath my feet. Splashes of dark brown stained the floor, walls and ceiling.
“It appears to have been a shrine.” Wyanet circled to the left of the oak tree. “Who would do such a thing?”
“I thought the Dawnfather was well-loved.” Phebes circled to the right. A stained glass window in the roof meant to resemble the rising sun painted her red.
“We should leave here immediately,” Wyanet pulled her war club from her belt. “This is an evil place.”
“What did you find?” I went to Wyanet’s side. A six-foot-wide eye, painted in blood, stared back at us from the palm of a left hand.
“My people know this as a symbol of undeath.” Wyanet pushed past me. “We are not safe here.”
The story will continue, January 23rd 2020.
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Written by: Sweeney (@oceansoul316 on twitter)
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