The city of Blackwake was an odd place. Halfway between the avarice and inconvenience of the capital and a small, sleepy hamlet in the middle of nowhere. Historically many influential noble families made their names here, including the now extinct Blackwake family themselves. The city still bore their name as a mark of respect, though I suspected that pages of their family history were stained through with blood.
One positive aspect of Blackwake was that it wasn't in the middle of a hell swamp. It was safer to head off the beaten track here, and there were less places of bandits and other criminals to hide. Normally I would have preferred denser foliage, but I wasn't here to sneak around. I had one goal in mind, find Bell, and run him through with my sword. What it did share was the Bend's high gothic architecture, this time inlaid with stone and silver. Intricate stonework and statues of various beasts loomed large over the cobbled streets below.
It used to be the style. Now it was downright antiquated.
The lower districts of the city that sat by the lakeside were densely packed with four story buildings that houses homes and businesses of all shapes and sizes. The noble district to the North was a collection of large estates – mainly converted farming houses that were left behind when the city's economy was struggling. Over the years they'd been expanded and upgraded to bare little resemblance to their humble origins. The fields were turned into lavish gardens, meticulously maintained by an army of high paid servants.
I'd only visited a few times, and only for work. As I said earlier – I stayed the hell away from Sull's territory at all costs. Knowing that the inquisitors were tied up searching for Stigma in the Bend did little to calm my nerves. I wanted to get this over with quickly so I could run back to the federation and take a load off.
I had one contact in the city, a man named Fourst. Fourst was the man with the plan. If you wanted to know anything about Blackwake he was the one you talked to. I escorted Cali through the busy streets and to his hideout. I rapped on the door and waited, before a raspy voiced called out through it, "Who's there?"
I recited the passphrase, "An old friend of your uncle."
He unlocked the door and waved us inside. Fourst was on the old side, but even then, he didn't look so well. His skin had grown pale and he was struggling to walk as I followed him through to the living room of his house. "Fourst, are you ill?"
He coughed into his hand and waved me away, "I don't need your pity Ren. Everybody has to go someday." My eyes drifted to the wall across from me. Several paintings hung from the brick and stone. Fourst in his old military uniform when he was a knight, him with the guys after completing a big job. There were other mementos scattered around the place. His sabre hung prominently above the fireplace.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't die, to be honest."
He chuckled, "Thanks. But I know you're not here to pay a visit to me on my deathbed, you swore you'd never come back here unless it was serious. I can live for long enough to tell you something, so what do you need to know?"
"The Bend's gone down in flames, everything got uprooted. Somebody talked."
"Ugh. The Bend? This happened recently?"
"I'm the first one out of there. Two days ago now."
It was bitter news for him to hear, "That aside. Why are you here? Don't tell me you're doing work for free again."
"It's personal."
"There's no time in this world to make things personal Ren. If you're not earning, you're not living." He shook his head. I took a seat across from him, Cali preferring to stand by the door. As I pulled Stigma from my hip and placed her next to me, he pointed at it, "Is that…" The flag that I'd stolen to make my makeshift sheathe has been completely torn to shreds. It was nothing more than a collection of barely connected red scraps and golden lining now. "Where did you find that?"
"I went flower picking," flowing picking being the rogue euphemism for stealing from dead bodies, "Next thing I know, eight inquisitors show up looking for it. And I'm stood there with a thumb up my ass."
"So you took it?"
My eyes narrowed, "Yeah. I took it. Nearly killed me, but I'm the one who walked away alive."
Fourst sighed, "I suppose I can't fault you for doing what needed to be done."
He knew more than he was letting slip to me, "You know about it?"
"Gah. I heard rumblings from some of the other knights that an idiot merc was walking around with it. Rode on to Exarch's Bend a few days later before the Inquisitors got here. Never expected for it to fall into your hands."
"I'm on borrowed time here. I need info on the noble district."
Fourst turned cold, "Can't do it."
"Why not? You're the biggest gossip monger in the city. Those nobles have loose lips, that's what you always told me."
Fourst slammed the arm of his chair, "They had loose lips. Ever since this damn cult came into town, I haven't been able to get nothing out of them! They're nearly putting me out of business!"
One of the things that I found hard to wrap my head around when I first became aware of religion in this world was that they were very fluid. As concepts had power, religion served a genuine, practical purpose in the eyes of people who followed it. They existed to spread the word of their chosen patron to as many people as possible with tales of their feats. In exchange those devotees would empower the patron with their belief.
It wasn't unusual for a single person to subscribe to multiple sects and deities. New ones cropped up all the time, rising and receding like the tides. Every person of influence you could think of would get a cult at some point. They very rarely spread beyond a small group of people. For living heroes and divine beasts, they would become more powerful thanks to those efforts.
"What's so unusual about this cult?" I asked.
Fourst, "What isn't unusual about them? They're called Libera Future. They've got criers ranting and raving on every corner of the city. Really fixated on 'freedom' and 'liberating' us from our burdens. Then it gets weird – every person who joins them turns into a fucking zombie! You can see them walking around, glassy eyed, not all there. They just do their daily routine and don't react to anything!"
"I guess they already inducted Cali," I joked.
"They did not."
I sighed. She just can't let a joke go past.
"It's a total blackout from my usual sources, I've got nothing - not even from the housewives. And if I'm not getting information on who's cheating on their husband with the chief servant, I'm not making any money. I've never seen anything like it, not in my three decades of doing this. What I have heard is… worrying."
"Like?"
"One of the guards on the estate wall told me that the houses were being stripped of their valuables, all the servants carrying things away and leaving them totally empty. One or two would be a coincidence, but he says it's happening to nearly all of them."
This was starting to sound familiar. The sudden arrival of a popular religious movement, that the people on top would surely stand to benefit from. Indoctrinate the nobles, 'steal' their property and have them sell it on for profit. A scheme so brilliant that I had to pinch myself for not thinking of it earlier. But doing that was easier said than done. How could a small-time cult enrapture the hearts and minds of every noble in Blackwake? They were famously divisive even in the best of times.
"I couldn't give two shits about what happens to whatever crap they keep in those houses, but this is impacting my bottom line."
"And it makes my life harder too."
"Which is why I'm going to do you a favour, I was hoping that someone with a good head on them would come and see me. A young man from the estates came to see me and asked for my help. I knew his dad back in the military."
"A job?"
"If you're looking to get an easy in to the estates, agreeing to help him will get you through the front gate. You help him out with his problem, you find out how this cult crap is happening, and maybe you even find that mark you're looking for in the process."
"His name's Belladone. Calls himself Bell. They moved him here after they took the Bend, I assume to a noble's house with a spare room."
"I'll keep an ear out, but like I said, I'm not getting anything from my regulars. If you want to meet the young lad, he's by the third gate, he's called Adam."
I stood from the couch and nodded, "Fine. I'll hear him out." I pulled Cali with me out of the living room and towards the door.
"Be careful out there!"
---
You're probably wondering why I didn't just sneak onto the estates as soon as I arrived and spied through every bedroom window until I found Bell. For one thing, that would take a very long time. There were nearly sixty mansions on the outskirts of the city, each with dozens and dozens of rooms. The prospects of me finding him by chance were slim to nil.
The other reason was the big beautiful wall that they'd spent an exorbitant amount of taxpayer money to build around the perimeter, specially designed to keep away thieves and rogues like myself. The sheer surface gave you no footholds to clamber to the top with, and an overhanging metal structure on top prevented you from mantling once you got there.
If you could even find a safe place to do it. Private guards patrolled every section of the wall twenty-four seven. Odds were that halfway through the difficult task of climbing up you would be spotted and shot with an arrow. The only practical way onto the estates was through one of the three designated crossing points that acted like miniature borders. I wouldn't be let through without a good reason.
And that good reason was a young boy leaning against the wall in front of me. Short black hair, white shirt and black slacks. Fifteen or sixteen by my estimation. He spotted us approaching and ran over to meet us, "Are you the… rouges that Fourst found?" he whispered the word like it was going to jump out of his mouth and bite him.
"Sure. I'm Ren, and this is Cali. He tells me you have a problem?"
"I-It's not anything… that crazy. My Mother and Father have become firm believers in Libera Future. At first I thought nothing of it – but when they returned from their first meeting with the head minister…"
"They'd changed."
Adam nodded, "Mother and Father were always concerned about my studies and making sure that I was spending my time wisely. But when I forgot to perform my language recital a few days ago, he couldn't have cared less! I noticed that nothing much seemed to phase them at all. I went so far as to smash one of the plates during dinner, and neither of them even so much as flinched. They simply ordered the maid to clear it up and continued on as if nothing had happened!"
Cali found the story curious, "And they speak in dulled tones?"
"Like you, yes!"
Cali seemed almost offended by the comparison, if she was capable of displaying any outward emotion that wasn't a lustful mania. This girl…
"I think that cult is doing something to all of them! I spoke with some of the others and they said that their parents were the same, and all of them had joined the cult recently. Yesterday Mother returned to the house and demanded that all of our valuable possessions be sold off to fund the sect." Adam reached into his pocket and held out four iron slates, "I-I stole these from Father's satchel, he won't notice a few missing… I hope."
I took the cash and slid it into my bag, "Alright. I'll help you out. The only thing I really want is the ability to get through that gate."
Adam had already prepared something, he retrieved a signed and stamped piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it over. It was an entry permit for mercenaries that expired within a month, just what I needed to come and go as I pleased with my weapons.
"Since you're under my employ as a mercenary, you can use this to get past the guards. Just be careful! If they catch you doing something bad, they'll revoke it."
"You're pretty sharp."
"Fourst helped," he explained, "Let me show you to my house! We can move from there." Adam marched to the pair of guards watching the gate with me and Cali in tow. They regarded us both with suspicion until Adam explained that we were his temporary bodyguards. They checked our papers and allowed us through. The change in the quality of the roads told me that this was rich country.
"They spare no expense for the paths in a place barely anyone visits," I muttered.