[Mysterious Cities of Jade] Chapter 4: A Wyld Hunt appears!

The guard looks confused for a couple of seconds, and then realisation dawns. He grins widely, displaying yellowed teeth, and he lets out a filthy laugh. His voice exudes sleaze. His c's and k's sound... Moist, for want of a better word. Soggy. He rolls his r's like a boss.


"Heh heh heh heh heh... Aye like eet. You are no enforcers of ze Tri-Khan, strangers. They do not make jokes. We don' like their type aroun' heer."


He spits on the ground for emphasis. That set of guards, at least, is no longer cradling their weapons while observing you suspiciously.
 
"We've made a good impression on the locals," says Elegy, pleasantly patting Shinji's shoulder. "Tell me, good guard, do you know a lad named Kim? We would like a friendly word with him."
 
Shinji snorts, looking over the jam packed crowds of heresy stepping lively around them.


Immaculates would die of apoplexy if they knew about this area. That pleased him in a vague way. "Yes, indeed."
 
The man leers at you. Well, he seems to leer at pretty much everything, regardless of gender or, indeed, sentience, so there's probably no reason to get offended beyond his background unpleasantness. "Keem? No, aye never heard of this Keem. What he do, rob you? He keel your brother?"
 
"Hmm? Oh, we're just playing a wonderful chase-game. Here, let me take a look at that." She goes around him, prodding at his back her fingers -- she's probably the least hideous thing every to touch him, and she's a Deathknight! "Too tense... not tense enough, excessive curvature of the spine... let's see, just shift a little here..." She presses on his back, thumbs working the misaligned point. "And... in we go!"


A soft crack, and his stoop is gone. "See? All better; that should do away with your chronic back pain. Now, I would say you owe us one, as they say in the local patois."
 
"Argle!", cries the man as you, uh, handle him. Spine popped into place, he takes a stretch. Satisfied with his improved posture he grins to himself. Probably thinking about how many ladies he's going to woo.


"Well... You deed do me a favour. Ok, my new friends. You wan' to find this Keem, you bes' go see the Ol' Man. People roun' here call heem Bonepicker. He don' lead no men, or try to run anytheeng, jus' does funerals and sheet, but he knows what goes on, you know? He can tell you many theengs. Mebbe he can tell you where to find your Keem."


He gestures down the wide tunnel. "50 paces, then left, a hundred more, then left again, then next right, you'll see Bonepicker's place. You can' mees eet, weird bones all over the front, man."
 
"Thank you, good guard, and best of luck!" says Elegy, with an elegant curtsey. There must be some young woman out there for him. Possibly with leprosy.


But a funeralist? It worried her for some uncertain reason. No basis to assume he is aligned with the Underworld, but... made her fret. "Let us be off, Shinji."
 
Elegy can practically feel his eyes on her bottom as the two of you head off. "Heh heh heh. Dirty Sanjo likes..." and you pass mercifully out of earshot.


The filthy guard's directions take some getting used to, as it's not easy to step out more than a full pace or two at a time before the crowds throw you off. But eventually you find yourselves standing before an unusually well maintained apartment block (or what passes for one down here) with bones adorning the large front door. Not human bones, but at a glance you're not quite sure what they once belonged to. The door is ajar, with a sign outside in both Flametongue and Low Realm suggesting that visitors make themselves known by ringing the bell inside.


Ringing the bell, you are shortly greeted by a young man dressed in funeral white just materialising out of the air in front of you with a soft moan. His head is permanently cocked at a funny angle. His voice sounds distant, and doesn't match up with his lips, with a slight delay between hearing the words and him mouthing them. He sounds terribly hoarse.


"What... Do you want?"
 
Your area of expertise indeed, Elegy.


Shinji simply stares at what he surmises is Bonepicker. His own voice and lips finally unlatch and catch up to reality. "We're, uh...looking for someone. A kind hunchback stroking his rifle told us where we might find you, a gentleman with information about the people here. ...Love the decor."
 
Ghost, it would seem. "Hello, sir. My friend and I are here to meet with Bonepicker, if at all possible. The guards sent us." Would she be recognized? She glanced sidelong at Shinji, looking away before he could notice. That would be awkward.
 
The ghost Looks at both of you. The capital L is very important. Eyes glow with sickly green essence as he takes the measure of you both. "Dragon-Blooded, obviously enough. Ugh. And...urk-"


The shade takes a step back. A big one, after looking at Elegy. Insofar as a long dead man still bearing the bruising and broken neck of the hangman's noose, easily a terrifying prospect in his own right, can look worried, he looks worried. His ectoplasmic worm wavers slightly and he tries to make himself look a little more respectful. His neck straightens out with a grisly snap, his clothes become more noble in cut and his face melts into a more friendly, welcoming appearance, although the tremor remains in his voice.


I... Forgive my rudeness earlier, Lady of Death, please. We are not accustomed to one of your stature appearing before us lowly souls. If you wish to see Master Bonepicker, please follow me, I'll take you to him immediately."


Shinji:


You almost got offended at the "ugh." until- Holy fuck, you're talking to a ghost, and it's scared of Elegy. And its features are changing. What. The. Shit.
 
Lady of Death. This could get bad. "No concern at all, sir ghost. My companion and I were told by one... 'Dirty Sanjo' that a Mister Bonepicker is the sort of man who knows the lay of the land in these parts. I wonder if we could arrange an audience with him; we're looking for a particular young men. And... I am no noblewoman, sir. Just Gentle Elegy; tell as much to Mister Bonepicker."
 
"Ghosts aren't just fearful of nobles, you know." Shinji says, eyeing the spectacle of shifting plasmid that is the ghost's corpus. Something terrible unlatches in his mind, but remains closed. He shrugs. Filed that bit of info cleanly next to the strange tattoo. "Whatever, let's find this little shit for now. Talk about that later."
 
Shinji, Elegy:


He talks as he leads you into the house, which is rather better furnished that one might expect; tasteful rugs, the odd tapestry, here and there a sculpture or painting.


"I... will, my lady. He will be relieved, there are... matters in Chiaroscuro keeping him busy and further complications are something he would like to avoid. Ah, here we are. If you could wait a moment while I inform master Bonepicker..."


He melts straight through a solid door. Muffled sounds come from within. a few seconds later the ghost reappears. "Master Bonepicker will see you. Please go on in."


Behind the doorway is a well-appointed study. A respectable half-dozen bookshelves in one corner, with some rather aged leather tomes sitting on them. A fireplace flanked by comfortable looking armchairs; There's a rather large hound of some description curled up by the fire, not looking particularly interested, but eyes following you nonetheless. And at a writing desk, hunched over a half-blank parchment with writing brush in a meticulous hand, an old man in robes that were probably funeral white in a past life, now stained by ink and what looks like nicotine. He speaks without looking up, his voice soft and measured.


"Please, make yourselves comfortable, I'll be with you in a moment. One cannot rush calligraphy, especially on a prayer strip."
 
Well, certainly not a den of horrors, if an odd doorman...


Shinji looked for the nicest chair he could find for his frame, nodded gravelly to the dog. If only he had a bit of food for it. A man's dog, not one of those yelping prickish things that his nieces so loved to tote around in their handbags. He shudders.
 
"Of course, Mister Bonepicker," said Elegy, gently sitting down. In the meantime, she pets the pretty doggy and takes a look around the room. Very well-appointed, by the standards of the undercity.
 
The dog raises its large head to receive affection, and also, you note, take the chance to stare at both of you. You've received less intelligent stares from mentors. Perhaps sensing Shinji's approval, it gets to its feet and stands between the pair of you. It's a beast, the kind of large dog that hunters might use to take down buffalo. It yawns, displaying jaws that look like they could chew through plate mail, and sniffs Shinji's leg. It sits back and growls. Not at you, although you're not sure just how you can tell.


The old man lets out an amused grunt. "Althos has taken a shine to you, Dragon-Blood. From the sounds of it, you are rather enraged. Perhaps the prayer strip can wait a time, lest I anger you further."


He places the brush and parchment to one side carefully, adjusts his spectacles, and looks up with eyes displaying the beginnings of blindness.


"Now my young friends, what brings you to the house of Old Man Bonepicker, hmm?"
 
"Ah, yes. We were referred to you by one... Dirty Sancho." A sudden flashback to the feeling of his gaze on her derriere. Focus, Elegy! "Who said that you might help us resolve a certain matter. You see, we are playing a rousing game of chase with a young thief named Kim. It would seem he has evaded us, but the curtain has yet to fall! Is there any chance you could offer us a lead? I would... owe you a favor, as they say. Perhaps arrange a discount from my current business venture."
 
"Indeed, sir. Althos, eh?" He scratches absently behind the dog's ear. "Do you read emotion, my friend?" He asks the dog. "Reminds me of Omen Dogs, or the stories I've read of them, at least." He lets out a disgruntled snort at Elegy's story. "Yes, I'd rather like to have a word with Kim. Men can rarely afford to be decent in indecent times, it seems, without those receiving kindness dipping their hands in your pocket. My rage has settled some since I tore down the edifice of a tenement chasing young Kim down."
 
Bonepicker sits back and slowly removes his spectacles. You can see a slightly raised eyebrow.


"I see. I am sorry for your loss you incurred. It would seem that decency is indeed a dwindling commodity of late. Very well," he sighs. "This thief named Kim is known to me, unfortunately. I believe I know just the man to introduce you to him."


The old man removes a small bell from a desk drawer, and rings it briefly. The ghost who brought you in passes through the door soundlessly. "Yes, sir?"


"Shojiro, could you send in my nephew please? And then bring us all some tea? Thank you."


The ghost Shojiro dissipates again.


"If I may ask, my angry friends, what do you intend to do with the thief once you find him? I see enough death as it is, and would rather not preside over more funerals than necessary."


He gets stiffly out of his chair and heads to his bookshelves, browsing through the books and eventually choosing one which he brings back to the desk.


"And as to this favor you say you would owe me, young lady, I believe there is a service you might be able to perform for me. I suppose one could say that I dabble in politics, of a sort. The monks above would never admit so, but there is a certain diplomacy between the living and the dead in this city. Secrets and deals and betrayals and alliances, death does not change politics. Many argue exclusively for one side over the other, but a few, like myself, can see the benefits of coexistence. I am no longer a young man, and information to preserve what balance there exists has been difficult these past few seasons. My nephew aids me when he can, and recently unearthed something... troubling, that might benefit from the touch of individuals with your particular leanings."


He opens the book on the desk, thumbing through cracked and yellowed pages.


"An exchange, which the inhabitants of both worlds would generally find abhorrent, that I would like stopped. I suspect violence might be necessary, as well as a certain occult knowledge I suspect you possess, my lady."
 
"Interesting." Very interesting. Elegy suspected that this might be relevant to the matter they just pressed with Ragara Palan. It seems fate had plenty more games to play. "Very well, sir, I will take a look. In fact... I have lately received intelligence that something is directing the ghosts in the region. Feeling out the salt lines, looking for weaknesses. Could your request be related to that matter?"
 
Now there's a correspondence of cause.


"She's quite right on the ghosts. I got to play chicken with them last night. Hundreds of them herding along the salt lines, looking for the cracks. Hundreds." Shinji leans forward, "Switching gears as regarding Kim: are you averse to his broken nose and the reclamation of the lady's -- and mine own -- stolen property?"
 
"A broken nose heals, and provides ample lesson. Something we can all live with, I suspect. So, you think the ghosts are testing the boundaries? That would make a certain amount of sense if... Hmm. Like the world of the living, the Underworld has its heroes and villains, and very few of either fit the stereotype provided by legend."


He seems to find what he was looking for in the book, and slides in a bookmark for later. He then goes for another book.


"There is a city council here for the dead too. I have only intermittent access to information on them, but a common issue over the last three or four years has been fear of the living making a concerted effort to take back the old city, shrinking the shadowlands or a crusade against what is actually a rather peace-loving community of spirits. As I'm sure your lady friend can attest, hungry ghosts, while numerous, are about as self-aware as a rabid dog and do not represent the interests of citizens of the dead nations. At best, they... Ah, here we are."


He selects a ledger from the shelf, leafing quickly through it as he walks back.


"At best, they are used as hunting dogs or cheap guards; I would hazard a guess that someone is flooding the boundaries of the salt lines with them under the auspices of creating a buffer between old and new Chiaroscuro, a warning not to invade and a first line of defense if anyone does. That would calm the masses of the dead, I'm sure, but also provide ample cover for less noble pursuits. Here, this ledger is an incomplete record of issues in dead politics over the last decade. As you can see here, fear of the living crops up frequently, amongst more mundane things. Here, here and here there are responses to rumors of monks trapping and destroying innocent souls. There is a discussion on curtailing trade with the Guild amid fears that they are exploiting the dead. It is hard to say how much is true, certainly some, but hardly most. All indications of someone trying to foment unease."


A knock on the door interrupts his train of thought. "Ah, my nephew. Come in, please!"


There enters a young man looking somewhere between early teens and malnourished late teens. There is a faint glow of silver essence still lingering about his limbs. The tea tray he's carrying rattles when he sets eyes on you.


"Oh." says Kim. "Um... Uncle? I-"


"Indeed. Put the tray down please, Kim, before you spill it all. These fine people are unlikely to break your nose at this very moment in time. I believe you have some of their property?"


Kim at least looks guilty as he produces a small pouch of money. "Fair enough, you got me. It's, uh, all there, I didn't get a chance to do anything with it..."


"Excellent. Now, pour the tea, there's a good lad."


"Yes, uncle."


Bonepicker addresses Shinji and Elegy again. "Congratulations, you have tracked down my occasionally shameful nephew. I would say a crack across the skull is long overdue, the little rapscallion. Would you prefer to exact justice upon him before or after he leads you to the place where this transaction is going to occur?"
 
Shinji takes the money. Weighs it in his hand, checks to make sure the real coin is inside, returns Elegy's and counts out his own. Gives him The Eye. "If a mild concussion will throw him off from leading us to the proper place, after. If not, I'm more than ready if he is." Shinji says, popping knuckles, a jaunty timber returning to his voice. There was much and more to consider rather than thrashing the little shit in front of his uncle. "Barring the beating your nephew will receive, it seems a bit...mm, foolhardy on the part of your council or the invested parties to bring the hungry ghosts up as some sort of deterrent.


"That sort of thing merely ushers more monks into the area, including more of my kin. Meaning more trouble for your council and community. What is more, while the shadowland is vital to whatever commerce your community has with the living city, you also have the Underworld. I mean, the city on its own isn't the only resource of the dead. As I understand the two are mirrors. There is a vast world overlaid upon on our own. Literature supports this. Besides fearing the living and the living fearing the dead, there must be other reasons." Shinji leans back in his chair, hand resting upon Althos's head.


"The Guild will forever be an issue. Anything is open for exploitation. We have no control over that organization, nor does the Realm or the Tri-Khan, much as they'd wish it were so. Most living organizations can put pressure, sure, but not this much. Perhaps agents of another faction? Underworld in nature, akin to the Mask of Winters in the East?"
 
A rattle from the tea set as Kim overhears Shinji's casual announcement to give him a beating. Bonepicker seems not to notice.


"Yes, your suspicions match my own. If it were not for the fear being intentionally stirred up, most of the dead would think the movement of so many hungry ghosts foolish, for the reasons you mention. But lately... Like I said, I hear there are some rising stars in the bureaucracy of the dead around here. Passionate speakers, and if the dead are attracted to one thing above all, it is passion."


"Uncle, if I may? Before my, uh, run-in with your guests, I was... Well, I was eavesdropping in a shadowland south of the Tri-Khan's palace."


Kim gets a Stern Look from the old man. It's the closest to anger you've seen him display so far. Kim continues regardless.


"I heard a ghost and a mortal discussing politics. I think at least one of them was a council member. They were talking about the hungry ghosts. The mortal said they were part provocation, part something else. He said that as far as provocation went, a Wyld Hunt was already on its way. He didn't elaborate on the 'something else' though, and the ghost accused him of dooming them all. He just laughed and said to have faith in his master. I didn't dare stay longer, I got a bad feeling about the talk."


Kim shrugs. "I was going to tell you, but you told me to wait."
 
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