Roko woke up the following morning only to find out at breakfast that Helena wouldn't be able to see him today.
"They're forcing a review test on her." Roland explained as he joined Roko for breakfast, "It's very extensive. Politics, history, manners. It's not just a written test either. This will take all day so you should just go and do whatever you want alone today."
"After everything that happened yesterday, this is a bridge too far." Roko frowned, "Maybe I should do something."
"No no, are you crazy? Do you want to make an enemy of the king?"
"If nobody else can do anything..."
"Helena's fine. She's used to tests like these. She'll pass just fine, though it might not convince anybody of anything. But that's just the way of things."
"Hmm..." Roko continued to eat his breakfast waffles, unconvinced.
"Just cool it man." Roland sighed, "I don't get you. One minute you're complaining about not wanting to be a king or having to fight a spider or something, next you're willing to start acting directly against the king of an entire nation."
"The situations are entirely different. In any case, if you think it'll be fine, I'll see if there's anything I can show to Helena to cheer her up."
"Keep that up and you're going to start sounding like a decent human being."
"Keep that up and you're not going to sound like a decent human being. What will you be doing anyway?"
"I'll be staying by Lady Helena's side of course. Now is where I will be needed the most."
"Alright then, mister white knight."
"Ooo that actually sounds pretty cool."
Roko walked out of the castle, alone and equipped with a small backpack. What was in the backpack was simple rations and supplies. With no sword or shield or armor, Roko would have to scrounge them up himself in this mission he was given at the last minute. Honestly, if he was going to be sent on more missions like this, he would at least need to be given proper equipment to go along with it. Though if he was properly armed, he wouldn't be able to move as discreetly which, given the nature of his assignments, was probably more valuable than he gave credit for. Still, heading in to attack a cult with nothing to defend himself with was tantamount to suicide.
"Didn't even give me any gold to buy any weapons with." Roko sighed as he walked into the main square, "I need a job."
Roko looked around the square, at the various things he had no gold to buy with before walking off again as he recalled what the merchant had told him.
"Oho? Interested in this cult are you?" The merchant laughed, "You're starting to look scary instead of scared, young man. But what the hell. I like the look in your eyes. This cult is called the Cult of the Unborn. They're known to be very secretive and strange, though there haven't been any reports of any out of the ordinary occultic behavior. If you trace their activities, there isn't anything to be found. But rumors are that they have been kidnapping women and preforming unholy rites with them. What happens to them, I cannot say aside from the fact that they are never seen again."
"Sounds serious. Are the police investing?"
"Sure they are. The disappearances at least. But they haven't dug into the cult that much. It's all rumors after all but rumors always have a tinge of truth to them, don't they?"
"Where are they now?"
"Well they don't have a church that's for sure. You'll have to track down one of their bases. Though if I heard correctly there's a particularly active group in the Bootstrap District."
"Bootstrap." Roko looked at the public map adorning the back of a billboard, "That's to the lower left of the city then. The brochure doesn't seem to have a lot of information on it. There isn't a map of the district that I can find either. I wonder if it's an unpopular district."
Roko turned away from the map, towards where the Bootstrap District was a few districts away and began to walk off, "Not that I know what I'm looking for to begin with."
Entering the Bootstrap District was a jarring transition. The streets grew darker with many unlit alleys and empty buildings. There were no places to gather around so people just walked through the bent streets, ignoring each other though some glanced towards Roko as if studying an unfamiliar face. There didn't need to be a sign to tell Roko that he had entered the shadier part of the city though he had come too far to just turn away now. Entering the district, he began to note the structure of this section of the city while thinking of ways he could flush out these cult members. As he heard, this Cult of the Unborn kidnapped women. All the girls he knew was too important to act as effective bait. Not that most of them were here to help to begin with. There was no way he could just recruit someone to act as bait so...maybe he could dress as a girl and use himself as bait?
…
Nah. Roko probably wouldn't be able to pull off the female look very well nor did he believe he was capable enough to get himself out of capture if he did get kidnapped. There's also the fact that he has no equipment so he can't be too reckless unless he can procure some weapons onsite. Otherwise, today might just be better spent as recon. Then again, he has only a week to finish this mission so could he afford to just take stock for a day?
…
"Screw it. Detective work it is." Roko sighed as he turned and walked into a shady shop.
The shop was neat and orderly. Shelves of jars with potions of different colors that were probably not just colored water lined the store and at the back sat the owner, reading a newspaper. Roko thought he saw the owner look up when he stepped in but he probably just quickly returned to his reading. Taking a gracious look at the potions, Roko noticed that all of them were unlabeled and without a price tag. Now intrigued, Roko approached the owner,
"So how do I know what potion I'm buying and how much it's supposed to cost?"
"If you can't figure it out by looking, just ask me." The owner looked up from his newspaper stoically, "And all potions on sale here are 68 gold."
"I guess you don't take custom orders?"
"If you need something made, then you just need to give me the details."
"Do you have love potions?"
"You want a love potion?" The owner looked mildly surprised with a mix of derision, "Kids these days."
"No, I was just curious." Roko smirked, "Get that a lot do you?"
"I don't run a potion shop just so some hormonal teenager can come in to buy an illegal substance just so he can get his rocks off." The owner said with distinct disgust, "Hard enough to get a potioner's license these days. The amount of illegal potions just keep piling up. I make all these fine potions but all people want are the ones that'll get them in jail."
"So you DO sell them."
"Yes I sell them!" The owner snapped, "But it ain't on the shelves, you're going to have to wait a week or so."
"Like I said, I'm not here for a love potion."
"Yeah, you didn't seem like the type."
"What does that mean?"
"I mean you don't look like you've seen love of any sort in your entire life." The owner replied bluntly, "What's wrong? Parents never loved you?"
"You always get this personal with your customers?"
"Only when they mess with me."
"Don't take jokes well do you? Are you married?"
"Now who's getting personal?" The owner scowled, "But yeah. I got a wife."
"When was the last time you saw her?"
"Last night. You got something you want to say already?"
"Did you use a love potion to marry her?"
The owner crushed his newspaper as he glared contemptibly at Roko.
"Okay fine. But have you ever thought about using it?"
"What are you up to kid?"
"Just a bit of research." Roko put on a sly smile, "Having potions that permanently alter a person's perception is almost like having a godlike power."
"You one of those megalomaniacs who are aiming to become a potionbrewer?" The owner smirked, "I've seen your kind ten times over back at school."
"And everyday in the mirror, I'm guessing."
The owner gave a hearty laugh at Roko's small joke, "Haha! Now that's a good one! You've got some moxie, stranger."
"Just making it clear I'm not one of those hormonal teenagers."
"I could tell that when you walked into the store."
The owner continued to chuckle to himself as Roko turned to look back at the empty store, "Still, if everyone used a love potion, there would be no women left for the rest of us."
"Ain't that the truth, stranger."
"Speaking of, I've heard that women have been disappearing lately."
"Oh yeah? Heard about that too. Some really dangerous stuff. Got me and my wife worried for the safety of our own daughter."
"Think somebody's out there abusing love potions?"
"Nah, if it was, we'd still see those women around. No, I heard this is the work of some cult."
"That right? What can you tell me about them?"
"Not much aside from the rumors. They've been around for a bit but nobody knows what they've been doing in their basements. Word from the butchers and apothecaries and whatnot say they aren't up to much different. You know. For a cult."
"So they operate around here?"
"Well yeah."
"Do you know where I can find them?"
The owner looked at him skeptically.
"I'll buy a potion." Roko offered, "But I might have to give you an IOU."
"Heh. Take a right down Lowen Street. That's two blocks down the road from here. You're looking for 1536."
"That helps a lot." Roko nodded, "Thanks."
"And take these too, stranger." The owner reached under the counter and pulled out two bottled potions, "They're healing potions. Should do for minor injuries. I don't know what you're up to but it sounds like you'll need these."
"I'm going to need to give you an IOU then."
"Just take them. They're free. Think of it as thanks for the good laugh you gave me."
"Well then, I'll gladly accept." Roko said as he took the potions and put them into his backpack, "Thanks a lot."
"Just take care of yourself, stranger. I don't want to go thinking I sent you to your death."
"Well, I'm not a woman so the worst thing that can happen to me is dying."
Following the potion store owner's instructions, Roko arrived at a small, inconspicuous house a few blocks away from the district's center. Despite its location, the streets were empty and dark with a few of its lanterns falling in disarray. It was the perfect location to get away with any crimes, so much so that Roko could only suspect that it was designed so, by vandalism or design. Regardless, the problem now was the door barring his way inside. How many ways was there to get past a door? How many of them would allow him to sneak inside? Roko stood in front of the door, running through as many options as he could think of. The door seemed rather aged so a good kick might be able to knock it open but it would almost certainly alert the residents. Looking through the windows, there was an entrance hall so the sound would have to travel a bit before reaching any possible ears. Speaking of the windows, all of them were too small to sneak through. All the ones in the front at any rate. There weren't any windows at body level to look through on the inside. Roko had watched a few videos on lockpicking once or twice as they came up in his video suggestions while working late in the night. None of which he could recall now, though he didn't really have the equipment for it either. The hinges were properly set on the inside of the house so removing the door from its hinges was out of the question too. There wasn't a lot of options to out this door though that's only to be expected.
Why don't you just try opening the door?
Roko paused as the thought entered his mind. He reached out and grasped the doorknob. He turned it and pushed the door open with no problem. Roko's expectations of these cultists immediately plummeted. That being said, Roko couldn't let himself lower his guard so he resettled himself before stepping through the door and into the home.
The home of these cultists was messy. It certainly felt like a group of men rooming with each other with the large amount of items from various interests and tastes strewn about. Making careful steps to avoid making any noise that will give him away, Roko explored the house, searching for any sign of life until he spotted an open door that lead to the basement. Flickering lights indicating candles and the hum of chanting told Roko that he had hit upon the right house. Still careful, Roko kept his profile low as he stepped down into the basement.