Eldritch Guidance

It was three in the afternoon. Joe and crew had just driven from the diner and parked their vehicle in an isolated parking lot in the southernmost edge of the city on Market street. From there the three investigators walked for about ten minutes north, until they came upon a Bar on the corner of the street. The bar’s name was called the “Salty Pickle”. It looked like a clean and well established place, like many of the other stores on Market street. It also didn’t look like there were any customers inside yet.

Joe: “Good, we got here before his customers showed up.”

Dan: “So, you're saying there is a cultist that works at this place?”

Joe: “Something like that. Mike, you stay out here and teach the kid the ropes. I’ll call you if I need ya.”

Mike nodded his head.

Joe separated from the group and entered the bar, leaving Dan and Mike by themselves outside under the afternoon sun.

Dan: “Is he going to be OK? I thought cultists were super dangerous.”

Mike: “Actually, he’d be safer if it was just a cultist in there, but no, he’s going to talk to Big Jack.”

Dan: “Is he in danger? Who’s Big Jack?”

Mike: “Don’t worry about Joe. As for Big Jack. he’s a former criminal that’s gone straight. We have a bit of history with him. Gotten a bunch of good info from him in the past.”

Dan: “Will he know about the wooden object?”

Mike: “Probably not. But, he might know where to find a cultist to ask about it.”

Dan: “Is that a good idea?”

Mike: “No, but when Joe is driven like this, I can't stop him. Besides, I get the feeling that Big Jack doesn't know any cultists. So, this will probably quickly turn into a dead end anyways.”

Mike was confident in this assertion. Cults were always way too unstable and unpredictable to deal with. Both things that crime organizations hated when interacting with other groups. For that reason, he was pretty sure that Big Jack didn’t have any interactions with cultist in the past.

The two Investigators stood there in silence for a couple minutes before Mike spoke up.

Mike: “Well, I still gotta teach you the ropes. So, ask me any question about anything you're still unsure about.”

Dan: “Oh, OK,” he paused momentarily to think about what he wanted to ask. “Um, can I ask you why Joe doesn't seem to like me.”

Mike: “Don’t take it personally, he does that to all the new people that are put on our unit. As to why, I'm not entirely sure myself. I suspect, but don’t know for sure, he’s afraid of getting people killed.”

Dan: “Is that because what happened in the Skull Crusher investigation? I heard that some people in your unit died.”

Mike: “Look at you. Already connecting the dots, but yeah. We both took it hard, particularly Joe. I think he blames himself for their deaths.”

Mike's comment was followed by another awkward silence before he spoke again.

Mike: “Is there anything else you want to ask?”

Dan: “Um, If it’s OK, can I ask about that conversation you had with Joe at Headquarters earlier today?”

Mike: “Sure. Ask away.”

Dan: “Why wasn't Joe more fired up at the missing officer? I don’t mean to presume, but from my interactions, he seems like the kind of man that would rush off to investigate a fellow missing officer. But, he was very dismissive of it.”

Mike: “That’s a fair assumption. A lot of people know him as a hothead. However, don’t mistake his temperament for recklessness. Despite how he acts and sounds, he is a realist. Joe knows the limits of what he can and can’t do, and purely focuses on the thing he knows he can. When it came to Renny, he knew that there was nothing to be done.”

Dan: “He just gave up, so quickly like that? Surely, there was something that could be done.”

Mike: “Ugh, I didn't really wanna talk about the east side with you yet, but I guess we can talk a little about it now,” there was a pause as Mike organized his thoughts before speaking again. “There is something you need to understand when it comes to the east side of Graheel. No cop patrols, investigates, or responds to calls from the east side of Graheel.”

Dan looked at Mike with a blank confused look for a few seconds before responding in surprise.

Dan: “What! Why?” he said in disbelief.

Mike: “We don’t involve ourselves at all in the east side. I know, It’s a unique situation in Graheel for sure. There is a complicated history as to why it’s like this. You see, that side of the city is completely controlled by a criminal organization called the Nighthounds. If they find an officer snooping around there, they kill them.”

Dan: “Wait, there’s a crime syndicate killing cops on the east side of the city, and we're not gonna do anything about it?”

Mike: “It’s not just a crime syndicate, it’s ‘THE’ crime syndicate. They are the biggest crime organization in the entire Golgatta Peninsula, maybe even in all of the Union states. They have too much power and influence for us to do anything about it.”

Dan: “But, they're murdering fellow officers. How can they get away with that?”

Mike: “Like I said, they have influence and a complicated history to it all. Ten years ago there was an event that locals call the Bloody Days. It lasted for half a year and there was a lot of violence between us and that organization, it turned the city into a war zone during that time. It was so bad, even the university got off their asses to help us, and it still didn’t stop the violence. There were talks about bringing in the military and even firebombing the east side to get that situation under control. It was only after the former chief of police died and was replaced with our current chief that it finally stopped.”

Dan: “How did Chief Murdock end the violence?”

Mike: “We pulled out of the east end. There are rumors that the Chief made a secret agreement with the Nighthounds to do so. I don’t know if it’s true, but I can't say I care. The violence finally stopped and that’s all that really matters to me.”

Dan: “So, you're just OK with that. We just let ourselves get chased out by some gangsters?”

Mike: “Dan… trust me. You weren't there, you can’t even begin to understand how fucked up that whole situation was. People were getting killed everyday. I watched friends come back to headquarters in body bags almost daily. You can frame it however you want, but the fact that we got the violence to stop is a great accomplishment in my books,” he said slightly emotionally.

Dan looked away and towards the ground. He felt that he may have said the wrong thing to Mike and was upsetting him.

Dan: “Sorry. You’re right. I don’t really know what it was like.”

Mike: “That’s OK. Just know you gotta stay out of the east, especially if you're in uniform. Anyways, don’t worry about it too much. It’s not like we gave them complete free reign. We have a special unit that handles the stuff that happens in that part of the city. They're just very discrete about it, as to avoid a situation that would start another Bloody Days like event. Leave it to them and be like Joe, focus on the stuff you know you can do.”

Dan nodded his head at Mike.

Dan: “Um, I just have one more question about the whole east side thing. How did exactly the Bloody Days start?”

Mike: “Ugh, I didn’t think this would turn into a history lesson. As I understand, it started because—” Mike was interrupted by the sound of someone yelling in the bar.

???: “GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE JOE!!”

Mike: “Hold that thought,” he said he began to enter the Salty Pickle.

Dan followed behind Mike.

The inside of the bar was dim and illuminated by low hanging light fixtures. There was a very long bar table with a shelf pack full of bottles behind it with a row of stools in front of it. Countless chairs and tables spread about the bar and despite there being no customers, there was a slight haze in the air as if someone had been smoking.

In a central part of the space was a table that was flipped over with Joe standing on one side of it, and a large man on the other side. The person across from Joe was a tall and portly man with short salt and pepper hair. He wore a white button up shirt that looked like he was about to burst out with his bulk. In his hand, the person brandished a metal pipe and was waving it menacingly at Joe.

Joe: “Calm down Jack!” he yelled at the man.

Jack: “Fuck you Joe!” the man yelled back.

The large man tried to walk around the table to get at Joe, but Joe kept moving around the flipped table to keep it interposed between the two of them.

Mike: “What’s going on!” Mike yelled out.

Jack: Oh, so you're here too Mike! Take your fucking friend and fuck off! he yelled at Mike without taking his eyes off Joe.

Joe: “Just tell me if you want to know and I'll go.”

Jack swung his metal pipe at Joe, but missed due to the flipped table in the way.

Mike: “C’mon Jack. You and I know you're not gonna be able to beat up Joe.”

Jack: “You fucking white mages are all the same. Think you can say and do whatever you want to us folks without aether. But you know what, one good whack to the head and you won’t be so high and mighty.”

Mike: “You know that’s not what I'm saying, Jack. C’mon, we're friends, we’ve helped each other in the past.”

Jack: “We’re not friends. We made a transaction and that all there is to it,” he said while kicking the flipped table at Joe.

Joe managed to move quickly to the side and avoid the table kicked at him, but now there was no longer a table between them anymore.

Seeing that, Jack made a B-line towards Joe.

Mike just sighed at the upcoming altercation. Not interested in seeing a fight breaking out, he pulled out a small black bag with a noose from under his coat. He loosened the noose and waved some hand gestures around it. As he did that, a stream of black sand flew out of the bag towards Jack. The stream of sand quickly wrapped around his ankles and wrist and held him in place, stopping his advance on Joe.

Jack: “What the fuck! Let me go!” he yelled out, while struggling against the sand bindings on him.

Joe: “Good job Mikey. Now we— Mhm.” Joe's sentence was cut off. Some Mike sand had also flown towards Joe and wrapped around his mouth, silencing him.

With a sigh, Mike calmly walked up to Jack and stood in front of him. Jack was still struggling and pulling at the sand bindings as he approached.

Mike: “OK, look. We’ve done this three times now. You fight Joe for like an hour and he keeps annoying you until you give up and tell him what he wants to know. So, can we just skip the fighting and save everyone the headache?”

Jack red in the face, looked down at Mike, then at Joe, then finally at the now broken table that he kicked at Joe. There was an angry frown on his face, but he was clearly still thinking about what to do next.

A few seconds of silence went by before Jack finally answered.

Jack: “Fuck! Fine. I’ll entertain your questions, but only if you pay for the broken table.”

Mike: “OK. Deal,” he said, just glad he could skip the fighting between Jack and Joe.

Mike made another gesture and the sand binding Jack released itself and flew back into the small black bag he carried. He then walked over to Joe who still had the black sand wrapped around his mouth, preventing him from speaking.

Mike: “And you behave. No antagonizing Jack, got it.” he said as he made another gesture to release the binding on Joe.

Joe: “Blech. I think I got some sand in my mouth.”

Mike had managed to defuse the tension in the room.

Once everything calmed down, Joe’s team and Jack made their way to the bar table. The three investigators each took a seat at one of the bar stools at the table, while Jack stood behind the bar and poured a drink for himself.

Jack: “By the way, what’s with the kid? Are you guys running a daycare now?”

Mike: “He's a trainee, don’t mind him.”

Jack: “Oh God. Please tell me you're not training him to be another Joe.”

Mike: “Trust me. I’m not gonna let that happen.”

Joe looked at Mike with indignation at his comments.

Jack: Anyways, what do you want? Oh, let me make this clear. I don’t know jack about any cult shit, so stop asking.

Mike: “You didn’t interact with any of them in the past, or hear any rumors about them.”

Jack: “No, I didn't. What rumors I did and do hear about them, I don’t keep track of. The only thing I know about those freaks is to stay away from them.”

Mike: “You used to be part of the Skull Crushers. They were the second biggest crime gang in Graheel back in the day, and there would be a lot of money smuggling items for those cults. You're telling me your former gang never had any interaction with cultists at all, even to smuggle stuff for them.”

Jack: “I don’t know, maybe. I can’t speak to everything the Skull Crushers did in the past, only for the stuff I was involved in. And, I can guarantee you, I never have or would involve myself with those nameless cult bastards.”

Mike turned toward Joe to see what he was doing. Joe was looking down in deep contemplation at the information he was hearing. Mike could tell what was going on in Joe's head. He was experiencing frustration at hitting another dead end on a lead.

Dan: “You were part of the Skull Crushers? Does that mean you murdered people?”

Mike: “Now's not the time Dan.”

Jack: “Oh, is the milk drinker scared to be sitting across from a murderer, cause yeah. I killed so many people back in the day,” he said in a way that was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic.

Mike: “Jack, don't mess with him. You were a smuggler and didn’t kill anyone, at least, none we know of.”

Jack just leaned on the bar table and smiled at Dan with a smug look.

Joe: “Do you know anyone that is cult-adjacent?”

Jack turned towards Joe and was starting to look angry again.

Jack: “No! I fucking told you I don’t know any cultists!”

Joe: “I'm not asking for an actual cultist, just someone that could be mistaken as a cultist. Like, someone that practices the old faith.”

Jack looked at Joe in disbelief and shook his head.

Jack: “Do you honestly think that I would know where to find a fucking druid? A druid in the city no less. Try asking a farmer or someone outside the city if you want to find someone like that.”

The Old Faith was a religion that was said to predate the Church of Light. Its practitioners and preachers were known as druids. The druids were nomadic and favored by farmers living in the countryside, as the rituals and rite druids performed were said to help improve crop yields. Sometimes people not from the countryside would mistake druids as cultists. They also almost never came into the cities. So, the way Jack responded was to be expected.

Joe: “I don’t know. You know all kinds of weird people Jack. Maybe you know someone that was a former druid living nearby.”

Jack: “No, I don't know anybody like that. If your going to start annoying me again, you can just fucking leave.”

Mike: “C’mon Jack. Help us out. We've been good to each other. Me and Joe manage to expunge your records and give you a clean slate. That wasn't easy for us to do. So, could you at least point us in the right direction.”

Jack just stood there looking at Mike. He was contemplating something before he finally spoke again.

Jack: “Sigh. I might know someone, but I'll only tell you about them under two conditions.”

Both Mike and Joe looked at each other knowingly then back at jack. Nodding their head in agreement at Jack's conditions.

Jack: “First, you can’t tell him or anybody where you heard this from. Second, please don’t arrest the guy. He’s a good guy and is not doing anything that particularly bad.”

Mike: “As long as he’s not doing anything really messed up, like murder, then fine. We agree to your condition.”

Jack: “If he’s murdering people, then I didn’t really know him and that's fine. The name you want is Wren Cummy. He’s a herbalist that runs a business called the ‘Mortar & Pestle’ on the west end near the Cathedral.”

Joe: “Is he like a druid, or something related?”

Jack: “No…Probably not.”

Mike: “What was that pause? Something you're not saying”

Jack: “He may have told me he was a druid at one point.”

Mike: “What do you mean he ‘may’ have told you?”

Jack: “Look, me and him got real high off shrooms one time, and he may have told me he was a druid, but I don't know for sure. He could have misspoke because of the shrooms, or I'm misremembering cause of the shrooms. I'm not even sure he’s a good lead for you guys.”

Mike: “If he’s not a good lead, why even tell us?”

Jack: “Because I don't know anybody else that I could point you towards. I’m just grasping at anything here, so that you leave me the fuck alone.”

Mike: “Let me get this straight. He’s a herbalist that you did shrooms with. Did he by chance sell you the shrooms, cause I feel like a herbalist would know how to cultivate that kind of stuff.”

Jack didn't say anything in response to the question and just stood there silently.

Mike: “OK, your silence tells me everything. He’s your drug dealer.”

Jack: “C’mom, leave him alone. He only deals in shrooms and he doesn't sell to kids. If guys like us want to get high, why should cops get involved?”

Mike: “I actually agree. We’re still gonna keep our promise and not do or say anything about that. Just wanted to understand your relationship. Can you please mark down where his store is?” he said, as he pulled out a map of the city from his jacket and handed it to Jack.

Jack took the map and examined it for a few seconds before grabbing a pen and circling an area on the map.

Jack: “There, you got your info. Now get out before my regulars show up.”

Joe: "Just one more question before we go."

Jack let out a long groan.

Jack: “What?”

Joe: “Who’s Mark?”

Jack: “Mark, who?”

Joe: “I don’t know his last name.”

Jack: “Well, how the fuck do you expect me to know. There are probably thousands of Marks that live in this city.”

Joe: “He was someone that was killed by Rob.”

Jack: “That still doesn't help me. Rob personally killed so many people back then, I can't remember every single one of them.”

Joe: “How many Marks could he have possibly killed? I’m also specifically talking about a Mark that may have been killed around the time Rob disappeared. So, think. This is important.”

Jack took a few sips of his drink while racking his brain. A few seconds went by as Jack thought about it. His expression went from serious to surprise, then finally to that of anguish as he remembered something.

The atmosphere around Jack changed. He no longer came across as an easily angered man, but someone reminiscing about a sad past.

Jack: “Oh fuck…” he said softly. “Where did you hear about that?”

Joe: “From Rob himself.”

Jack: “Oh, yeah. Heard through the grapevine you guys got him… You should be asking him about that.”

Joe: “I would if I could, but he’s dead.”

Jack: “Really, no loss for the world then,” he said as he shook his drink in a way that caused the ice in it to spin in the liquid.

Joe: “Who was he?”

Jack: “A good kid that got involved with a bad group,” he chuckles a bit. “That was actually a lot of us in the Skull Crusher back in the day. We all joined to survive, Mark was no different. He was a courier in the gang,” he said while looking down at his drink.

Mike: “He was a smuggler, like you?”

Jack: “No. I moved a lot a shit at once. Couriers were the younglings that moved small amounts of product and messages between other members of the gang. You can think of them kinda like mailmen. Mark was probably the best courier in the gang. He could wizz through the streets undetected to deliver packages in no time. It was like he could be at two places at once.”

Mike: “It sounds like you personally knew him.”

Jack: “I did. smugglers and couriers worked closely together. So, I interacted with him for a fair bit. He was a little strange, but still a genuinely good kid.”

Joe: “Strange how?”

Jack: “Just a little absent minded and forgetful. Would forget previous conversations we recently had, but I assumed he was like that because he was tired all the time.”

Mike: “Why was he so tired?”

Jack: “It’s like I said, It was like he could be at two places at once. He delivered insane amounts of packages and messages. Way more than any other of the kids in the gang. Don’t know how he managed, but it must have been exhausting.”

Dan: “Excuse me. The way you're talking about the couriers makes it sound like they were kids.”

Jack: “That’s cause they were. Cops are less likely to search a kid than an adult. And back then, there was no shortage of desperate kids and orphans looking to make a buck. So, sadly kids were used a lot as couriers.”

Dan reeled back with visible disgust in his face at the thought of using children to deliver illegal goods.

Joe not showing any visible change in his demeanor pressed on with his questioning.

Joe: “Do you know why Rob killed him?”

Jack stared deeply into his drink for a little while. Thinking about the past a little before speaking.

Jack: “He wanted out. And, when Rob was in charge, you couldn’t just leave the Skull Crushers. So, when Rob caught wind of Mark wanting out, Rob did the gang's namesake and then dumped his body into the river,” there was silence that followed after he said that. Jack was deeply in anguish as he talked. ”I wish he had told me he wanted out. I might have been able to sneak him out of the city without Rob knowing.”

Joe: “Do you know how Rob found out, or even why Mark tried to get out. I'm sure he knew the risk of leaving.”

Jack: “I don’t know how Rob found out, and yeah. We all knew the risk of leaving, but around that time was the Bloody Days. A lot of us wanted out around then, me as well. The Nighthounds weren't only hitting on cops and politicians, but the Skull Crushers as well. Bunch of people in the gang up and left. Some went into hiding, others joined the Nighthounds to save their asses. Rob started killing a bunch of us that made even the slightest suggestion of leaving, to try and stop the bleeding of membership. Mark probably wanted out so he wouldn’t get attacked.”

Joe: “Do you remember when that happened?”

Jack: “I think… It was just a month before Rob disappeared. Sigh, if only Mark kept his head down and waited a little longer. He could have left safely once Rob was gone.”

There was another painful silence that filled the room after that comment. Jack swirled the liquid in his cup while staring deeply into it before downing the contents and slamming the glass on the table. While not looking at the investigators in front of him, Jack poured himself another drink before speaking again.

Jack: “Poor kid. He only got involved because he needed the money for his mother.”

Mike: “His mother wasn't well? Do you know if she is still around?”

Jack: “Don’t know the details, but yeah. Mark told me she wasn't doing well. That's why he joined the Skull Crushers. He needed the money, so he could take care of her. As for whether she is still around, don't know.”

Joe: “Do you know anybody else that knows Mark?”

Jack: “Not really. Can’t say I kept track of the people Mark interacted with.”

Mike: “How about where he used to live.”

Jack: “I think… It's somewhere on St Vaal street.”

Joe: “Where specifically on St Vaal. What was his address?”

Jack: “I don’t know. I just know it was somewhere on that street.” Jack paused for a second before letting out a long sigh. “That’s all I know, so please go. I don’t want to talk about Mark anymore.”

Joe nodded and grabbed Dan and began to leave Jack alone in his bar. Mike put some money on the table for the ruined furniture and the three investigators vacated the space. The sun was about to go down and the nightlife in this end of the city was beginning. There were more people walking around and the neon signs of the various establishments were now on.

Once all three of them were outside, Mike started talking to Joe.

Mike: “Where did you hear about that Mark person?”

Joe: “It was one of the last things Rob said before he freaked out and tried to strangle me.”

Mike: “Ohh, OK. I completely forgot about that.”

Joe: “Yeah, well a lot was going on at that moment back then. So, I get you not remembering.”

Mike: “So we got two leads now. Assuming, you don’t want to skip pursuing that whole Wren Cummy lead. Which seemed kind of iffy to me.”

Joe: “Leave no stone upturned. Besides, we still might learn something from that herbalist. Talking to Wren Cummy will also be a lot easier than finding Marks home on Vaal street.”

Dan: “Why's that? Is Vaal street really long or has a lot of homes on it.”

Joe: “Not particularly, the problem is that it’s on the east side.”