chapter 923
New
Malcolm Tent
Monkey with a typewriter.
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Our next step, as it turned out, required less discussion than expected. Namely, we needed to capture The Vintner and The Sommelier. But first, we needed to figure out who the hell those people WERE. The Vintner shouldn't be too tough, we were going to be introduced to all the winemakers, and I was guessing they would be among their number, but The Sommelier could be anyone. That was literally just someone who liked wine and knew a bunch about it, and we were at a fucking WINERY.
When we rejoined the group, the tour was still ongoing, and no one had noticed us slipping away under the influence of Murmur.
After a minute or two of walking, I took the opportunity to reappear from behind someone, drawing attention to myself by clearing my throat. "So, you said we could meet the winemakers?" I asked Cranston excitedly. He didn't seem to think of me as a person, but I didn't actually care what he thought about me, he couldn't ignore me with Devlan walking right beside us, and he could sneer as hard as he wanted if he'd answer my questions.
He shot me a withering glare. "The tour will proceed at the pace that I decide it should progress. If you wish to experience a faster paced tour, perhaps you can leave and come back when there is another guide available."
"Gosh, that's a good point," I said obtusely. "Hey Devlan, this guy thinks we should go away and come back later. That sound good to you?"
Devlan shrugged. "Coming back later sounds like a hassle. I figure we can just contact another winery. I hear Sudden Valley is decent., Plus they really need an influx of cash. They've been in a marketing war with some other no name winery. I bet they'd be super grateful for the investment after they used it to completely crush that other place."
Cranston went almost alarmingly pale. "I…wait, no, that's…" He started sputtering so hard I was worried he might hyperventilate.
Obviously, that had been a threat, and apparently a good one, judging by how alarmed he seemed. "Or," I continued with a cheerful smile. "We could always just go talk to those winemakers. That would probably be faster. I mean, we're already here. Do you think you could set that up for us, Cranston?"
He nodded so hard I was worried he might break his own neck. "Why, yes! Of course. I was mistaken earlier. The pace of the tour is naturally at the discretion of the customer."
Turning, he hurried along the length of the hall, guiding us through a large door as he frantically muttered into a scan ring. We took a couple of detours and roundabout turns that I suspected were designed to waste time, and finally arrived at a large hall full of silver tanks. S bunch of men and women in honest to gods lab coats were spread throughout the hall, checking guages and turning knobs.
When we entered, the one closest to the door turned to smile widely at us in greeting. He was a cheerful looking young man with curly brown hair and bushy eyebrows. "Cranston! Look what you've brought us! Guests are always welcome down here in the tombs. It gets so gloomy with only this sorry lot for company." He winked at us to let us know he was only teasing, and hurried forward to offer Devlan his hand.
Our local contact accepted the hand gracefully. "We were told you and the others down here could tell us more about the wine? I like to meet with the craftsmen who work on my products. You've no doubt heard of my organization, and our infrastructure and supply chains could be a huge boon to an operation like this, but I only act for mutual profit."
"Of course," the man preened. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Graham, and I'm the Chief Vintner here. My background is in hybridized grape development and fermentation processes, and I've published quite a few papers on both topics. I can't claim to be unrivaled on this planet, but within the D-rank zone, I daresay no one comes close to my expertise. Our entire team is made up of the best and brightest, and I personally vouch for every member of my group."
I glanced around. The people nearby seemed…distracted. The were trying their best to look busy, but they were clearly paying attention to us instead of their jobs…except one.
"Who is that?" I pointed out the sole exception. A tall, pale man with sunken eyes, he had his back to us and was actually ignoring the group, as opposed to just pretending like everyone else.
Graham furrowed his eyebrows. "That's…that's one of our technicians. His name is Horace. I'm afraid he isn't particularly social, or I'd introduce you. His field of expertise is also a bit obscure, so I doubt you'd be interested in hearing about what he does. We could talk to Lucy though, she's in charge of alcohol content in the vintages. Fascinating stuff."
I wasn't sure he knew what that word meant, because it definitely wasn't, but more importantly, the fact that he didn't want us to talk to Horace made me REALLY want to make it happen. I didn't bother bringing it up, I just broke off from the group, ignoring Graham's protests, and approached the tall man.
And he was VERY tall. Like, even by my standards. However, he was also so emaciated that his limbs looked like dry branches seconds from breaking off a dead tree. "Hey, Horace right?" I asked him as I approached.
He continued to twist knobs and adjust levers on the tank, ignoring me. When I got a bit closer, he finally paused, turning his dark, sunken eyes to stare at me coldly.
"I believe," he said in a surprisingly rich voice. "That you were instructed to leave me be. It is impolite to ignore the wishes of your host." His eyes raked over me. "I can't imagine what you might wish to speak to me about, but you may keep your greetings to yourself. I have no interest in discourse. Have a pleasant day."
As he spoke, I stared into his flat black eyes. There were dark and empty, ironically somehow more reptilian than the actual snake eyes of the house girl. As I started to feel a tug, like I was falling into the darkness, a surge of power poured through the bond, a blue black blaze of righteous fury washing away the sensation.
His eyes flickered. Not literally, but in the sense of someone noticing something, and then narrowed, his lips drawing back to expose rows of razor sharp teeth that I somehow hadn't noticed before. "Heretic!" He hissed with snakelike sibilance.
I was already moving, wings exploding out from my back as my staff appeared in my hands, whirling to meet the tendrils of shadow bursting from the ground at his feet. Blue black flame burned on my staff, the light of it banishing the dark, and he howled in outrage as he leapt up to cling to the ceiling.
Cursing, I spun the staff as he drew in a large amount of shadows and sent a wave of dark spikes at me. My spinning weapon created a shield of flame, intercepting the attacks, and Callie screamed in fury as she launched herself into the air at Horace.
Everyone else just kind of froze, unable to comprehend what was happening. "Murderers!" Howled the vintner. "Slayers of the vessel!"
The vessel. Was that the title of the house girl? Callie had called her a priestess, but it seemed like she didn't find that to be an accurate or inaccurate description. She had been a priestess, maybe, but she had also been a vessel. Or the vessel. Whatever the term was. She had called them a few things. The blade of the silent, the hand of the unheard. Vessels might just be another term for the sleeper agents the void cultivated in realspace.
Given the discussion about Wendell, the stuff that house girl had said about conversion was true too. They could make more of them later on, though under what circumstances I had no idea.
Callie crashed into the vintner before I had time to think much further, her black and blue flame clad hands wrapping around his throat as she tore him off the wall and smashed him screaming into the cement floor. Everyone was panicking, screaming for help and shouting at my wife to let him go.
Stomping a foot, I triggered Behemoth. The ground melted, rising up to wrap around the struggling vintner and fully restrain him. I channeled the heretic flame through the reinforced stone as it hardened, providing a layer of Void suppression, and his howls became angrier and more frantic.
"Bethy," I told my friend calmly. "Do me a favor and shut him up."
Her Domain flexed, and above her, a pair of colossal red eyes manifested, her natural gift for hypnosis being channeled through her Domain. It was similar to something I'd seen her do before, and to feeding through the Domain. I wasn't sure it would have worked without the heretic fire suppressing him, but it was and it did, and his form went slack, eyes glazing over as he stared up at the Domain gaze.
"Seal the room!" I snapped quickly. My people spread out, defending entry points as we herded all the strangers into the center of the space. "Sorry about that folks," I said with an apologetic smile. "Local constabulary, we're apprehending a dangerous fugitive."
They all looked skeptical, which was fair, it was bullshit, but I loved being able to use the word "constabulary".
I surveyed the people in the room. My logic was simple. We needed to seal this room. Either the Sommelier and we couldn't let them escape, or they WEREN'T and we couldn't let them find out. The Vintner might provide us some info, but he seemed pretty rabid, and I somehow doubted he was going to be cooperative. If we found the other one we would have more options. Playing them against each other for motivation, making an example, there were so many possibilities.
I strode over to kneel in front of the restrained vintner. Glancing at my wife, I nodded to him. "So, we have some questions for him. Any chance you have a way to help with that?" I wasn't sure about his position in terms of the Void. Was he possessed? Was he a traitor? Was he brainwashed from a young age?
She grimaced, shaking her head. "I can suppress the Void influence, but I don't think he's being actively controlled. I think some of them might be, and the ones who are I can probably free, but the true converts like this guy…I think my options are limited."
Looking back at Bethy, I called out to her. "Hey, can you make him tell us stuff?"
My vampire friend shook her head. "Not this guy. His brain is weird. Slippery. I'm having trouble holding on, and there's no way I can get a good enough hold to bully him into talking. Plus even if I could, that kind of thing is risky. If he decides not to bend it could break his brain, and then he'll just turn into a drooling mess."
Nodding to them, I closed my eyes, triggering Dantalion, and let the domain roll over the entire crowd. They were close together, so I didn't have to push it far. I just needed to watch and wait, and if the Sommelier was here I would find them.
Sadly, minutes went by, and though i gleaned a lot of random information from the nearby winemakers and the other tour participants we'd picked up along the way, there was nothing that would tell me for sure if any of them were with the Void. Which meant they probably weren't. I sighed, turning to Graham with a grimace as I opened my eyes. "Alright, let's have a chat about Horace and who he spends his time with." We needed to get this done soon, because I had a feeling whatever the plan was to attack the crystal depot was coming FAST. Time for some good old fashioned detective work.
When we rejoined the group, the tour was still ongoing, and no one had noticed us slipping away under the influence of Murmur.
After a minute or two of walking, I took the opportunity to reappear from behind someone, drawing attention to myself by clearing my throat. "So, you said we could meet the winemakers?" I asked Cranston excitedly. He didn't seem to think of me as a person, but I didn't actually care what he thought about me, he couldn't ignore me with Devlan walking right beside us, and he could sneer as hard as he wanted if he'd answer my questions.
He shot me a withering glare. "The tour will proceed at the pace that I decide it should progress. If you wish to experience a faster paced tour, perhaps you can leave and come back when there is another guide available."
"Gosh, that's a good point," I said obtusely. "Hey Devlan, this guy thinks we should go away and come back later. That sound good to you?"
Devlan shrugged. "Coming back later sounds like a hassle. I figure we can just contact another winery. I hear Sudden Valley is decent., Plus they really need an influx of cash. They've been in a marketing war with some other no name winery. I bet they'd be super grateful for the investment after they used it to completely crush that other place."
Cranston went almost alarmingly pale. "I…wait, no, that's…" He started sputtering so hard I was worried he might hyperventilate.
Obviously, that had been a threat, and apparently a good one, judging by how alarmed he seemed. "Or," I continued with a cheerful smile. "We could always just go talk to those winemakers. That would probably be faster. I mean, we're already here. Do you think you could set that up for us, Cranston?"
He nodded so hard I was worried he might break his own neck. "Why, yes! Of course. I was mistaken earlier. The pace of the tour is naturally at the discretion of the customer."
Turning, he hurried along the length of the hall, guiding us through a large door as he frantically muttered into a scan ring. We took a couple of detours and roundabout turns that I suspected were designed to waste time, and finally arrived at a large hall full of silver tanks. S bunch of men and women in honest to gods lab coats were spread throughout the hall, checking guages and turning knobs.
When we entered, the one closest to the door turned to smile widely at us in greeting. He was a cheerful looking young man with curly brown hair and bushy eyebrows. "Cranston! Look what you've brought us! Guests are always welcome down here in the tombs. It gets so gloomy with only this sorry lot for company." He winked at us to let us know he was only teasing, and hurried forward to offer Devlan his hand.
Our local contact accepted the hand gracefully. "We were told you and the others down here could tell us more about the wine? I like to meet with the craftsmen who work on my products. You've no doubt heard of my organization, and our infrastructure and supply chains could be a huge boon to an operation like this, but I only act for mutual profit."
"Of course," the man preened. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Graham, and I'm the Chief Vintner here. My background is in hybridized grape development and fermentation processes, and I've published quite a few papers on both topics. I can't claim to be unrivaled on this planet, but within the D-rank zone, I daresay no one comes close to my expertise. Our entire team is made up of the best and brightest, and I personally vouch for every member of my group."
I glanced around. The people nearby seemed…distracted. The were trying their best to look busy, but they were clearly paying attention to us instead of their jobs…except one.
"Who is that?" I pointed out the sole exception. A tall, pale man with sunken eyes, he had his back to us and was actually ignoring the group, as opposed to just pretending like everyone else.
Graham furrowed his eyebrows. "That's…that's one of our technicians. His name is Horace. I'm afraid he isn't particularly social, or I'd introduce you. His field of expertise is also a bit obscure, so I doubt you'd be interested in hearing about what he does. We could talk to Lucy though, she's in charge of alcohol content in the vintages. Fascinating stuff."
I wasn't sure he knew what that word meant, because it definitely wasn't, but more importantly, the fact that he didn't want us to talk to Horace made me REALLY want to make it happen. I didn't bother bringing it up, I just broke off from the group, ignoring Graham's protests, and approached the tall man.
And he was VERY tall. Like, even by my standards. However, he was also so emaciated that his limbs looked like dry branches seconds from breaking off a dead tree. "Hey, Horace right?" I asked him as I approached.
He continued to twist knobs and adjust levers on the tank, ignoring me. When I got a bit closer, he finally paused, turning his dark, sunken eyes to stare at me coldly.
"I believe," he said in a surprisingly rich voice. "That you were instructed to leave me be. It is impolite to ignore the wishes of your host." His eyes raked over me. "I can't imagine what you might wish to speak to me about, but you may keep your greetings to yourself. I have no interest in discourse. Have a pleasant day."
As he spoke, I stared into his flat black eyes. There were dark and empty, ironically somehow more reptilian than the actual snake eyes of the house girl. As I started to feel a tug, like I was falling into the darkness, a surge of power poured through the bond, a blue black blaze of righteous fury washing away the sensation.
His eyes flickered. Not literally, but in the sense of someone noticing something, and then narrowed, his lips drawing back to expose rows of razor sharp teeth that I somehow hadn't noticed before. "Heretic!" He hissed with snakelike sibilance.
I was already moving, wings exploding out from my back as my staff appeared in my hands, whirling to meet the tendrils of shadow bursting from the ground at his feet. Blue black flame burned on my staff, the light of it banishing the dark, and he howled in outrage as he leapt up to cling to the ceiling.
Cursing, I spun the staff as he drew in a large amount of shadows and sent a wave of dark spikes at me. My spinning weapon created a shield of flame, intercepting the attacks, and Callie screamed in fury as she launched herself into the air at Horace.
Everyone else just kind of froze, unable to comprehend what was happening. "Murderers!" Howled the vintner. "Slayers of the vessel!"
The vessel. Was that the title of the house girl? Callie had called her a priestess, but it seemed like she didn't find that to be an accurate or inaccurate description. She had been a priestess, maybe, but she had also been a vessel. Or the vessel. Whatever the term was. She had called them a few things. The blade of the silent, the hand of the unheard. Vessels might just be another term for the sleeper agents the void cultivated in realspace.
Given the discussion about Wendell, the stuff that house girl had said about conversion was true too. They could make more of them later on, though under what circumstances I had no idea.
Callie crashed into the vintner before I had time to think much further, her black and blue flame clad hands wrapping around his throat as she tore him off the wall and smashed him screaming into the cement floor. Everyone was panicking, screaming for help and shouting at my wife to let him go.
Stomping a foot, I triggered Behemoth. The ground melted, rising up to wrap around the struggling vintner and fully restrain him. I channeled the heretic flame through the reinforced stone as it hardened, providing a layer of Void suppression, and his howls became angrier and more frantic.
"Bethy," I told my friend calmly. "Do me a favor and shut him up."
Her Domain flexed, and above her, a pair of colossal red eyes manifested, her natural gift for hypnosis being channeled through her Domain. It was similar to something I'd seen her do before, and to feeding through the Domain. I wasn't sure it would have worked without the heretic fire suppressing him, but it was and it did, and his form went slack, eyes glazing over as he stared up at the Domain gaze.
"Seal the room!" I snapped quickly. My people spread out, defending entry points as we herded all the strangers into the center of the space. "Sorry about that folks," I said with an apologetic smile. "Local constabulary, we're apprehending a dangerous fugitive."
They all looked skeptical, which was fair, it was bullshit, but I loved being able to use the word "constabulary".
I surveyed the people in the room. My logic was simple. We needed to seal this room. Either the Sommelier and we couldn't let them escape, or they WEREN'T and we couldn't let them find out. The Vintner might provide us some info, but he seemed pretty rabid, and I somehow doubted he was going to be cooperative. If we found the other one we would have more options. Playing them against each other for motivation, making an example, there were so many possibilities.
I strode over to kneel in front of the restrained vintner. Glancing at my wife, I nodded to him. "So, we have some questions for him. Any chance you have a way to help with that?" I wasn't sure about his position in terms of the Void. Was he possessed? Was he a traitor? Was he brainwashed from a young age?
She grimaced, shaking her head. "I can suppress the Void influence, but I don't think he's being actively controlled. I think some of them might be, and the ones who are I can probably free, but the true converts like this guy…I think my options are limited."
Looking back at Bethy, I called out to her. "Hey, can you make him tell us stuff?"
My vampire friend shook her head. "Not this guy. His brain is weird. Slippery. I'm having trouble holding on, and there's no way I can get a good enough hold to bully him into talking. Plus even if I could, that kind of thing is risky. If he decides not to bend it could break his brain, and then he'll just turn into a drooling mess."
Nodding to them, I closed my eyes, triggering Dantalion, and let the domain roll over the entire crowd. They were close together, so I didn't have to push it far. I just needed to watch and wait, and if the Sommelier was here I would find them.
Sadly, minutes went by, and though i gleaned a lot of random information from the nearby winemakers and the other tour participants we'd picked up along the way, there was nothing that would tell me for sure if any of them were with the Void. Which meant they probably weren't. I sighed, turning to Graham with a grimace as I opened my eyes. "Alright, let's have a chat about Horace and who he spends his time with." We needed to get this done soon, because I had a feeling whatever the plan was to attack the crystal depot was coming FAST. Time for some good old fashioned detective work.