Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Corvo had been to Coldridge Prison before -for business- but he had never particularly liked the place. He took issue with certain facets of how the prison was run, but since that was out of his purview as Royal Protector, he hadn't raised much fuss about things. The Royal Spymaster had more to do with the prisons than Corvo did, and that was only because he was in charge of any and all interrogations that happened within the walls. Corvo wished he had raised more of a protest then he had, as soon as he saw the walls of Coldridge looming up in front of him. Yes, Corvo hadn't liked going to Coldridge as Royal Protector but seeing it while he was in shackles and knowing he was now somehow on the opposite side of things, sent shivers of fear down his spine.

The guards sneered at him as he was dragged into the prison, but Corvo had a well-deserved reputation for being as stoic as they came. A few nasty faces sent his direction hardly bothered him. He'd be a poor protector if that set him off. Of course... it turned out he was a poor protector anyway. A painful wrenching in his chest made his eyes water, but he blinked the tears away. The blood on his hands from where he'd tried to stem what was flowing from Jessamine's body itched, and he wished he had the time and range of movement to clean it off.

More than a few insults and jeers were thrown at him as he was brought through the familiar entrance hall. The guards seemed to have found a game in trying to make him fall, but Corvo only allowed himself a few stumbles despite the rough handling. They took him to a fully tiled room with a massive drain bolted to the slightly sloped floor. A dozen guns were pointed at him as one officer undid his cuffs. Corvo thought about lashing out, but he wasn't foolish enough to actually do it. There were far too many guns on him.

Two more guards came at him, and Corvo couldn't help the way he struggled to escape their grasp on his coat. There was shouting, and a few more guards hurried to assist the first couple. Corvo elbowed one in the face and was repaid with the butt of a rifle to the back of his head. Hard.

Corvo's head was still ringing from the first hard blow he'd taken at the palace, so another sent him collapsing to the floor like Emily's beloved Mrs. Pilsen doll. Everything was black and painful.

When Corvo came back to consciousness, it was because steaming hot water was beating his face and chest. Corvo sputtered and coughed to try and breathe even as he tried to turn away. The water was hitting him like dozens of fat bullets. Try as he might, Corvo couldn't actually turn away from the never-ending stream. His arms were chained above his head, and he didn't have enough slack to bend enough to either side. Corvo dropped his head to try and give himself a pocket of air even as he continued to hack and sputter.

The hose moved down Corvo's bare torso, and he couldn't help the noise of pain as the high-pressure stream hit some of the bruises that he'd gotten from the fight at the gazebo. His half-stifled sound caught the attention of the guards to let them know he was fully awake again. The water hit him full blast in the face, and Corvo found himself trying desperately to find air again and only partially succeeding.

The punishing stream of water moved off enough for Corvo to gasp enough air to set him into a fit of coughing and gagging. The water he hadn't managed to avoid inhaling came up again painfully. The scalding hose continued to beat his body all over and Corvo grit his teeth against as much of the noise as he could. More than once the guards came back to blast Corvo in the face, seemingly amused by how it would nearly drown him each time. And then they would aim the stream at his exposed sensitive bits, and Corvo could barely resist crying out in pain. Corvo's body was screaming at the abuse, and he could practically feel the bruises forming under his skin that was turning red from how hot the water was.

Finally, with one last blast in the face, the guards finished. Corvo was struggling again to clear his lungs from the frankly foul-tasting water. Corvo was sure they'd pumped it straight from the river before heating it to scalding temperatures. Corvo hacked a few more times on the water even as the guards roughly grabbed him and finally undid the shackles that were holding him up.

The guards shoved nearly threadbare clothes at him despite the fact that Corvo was still sopping wet and disoriented. They, at least, let him dress himself, although the water was still running down him from the 'cleansing' that he knew had lasted longer and been rougher than it really should have been. His thin prison clothes were soaked through the instant he put them on and clung to his body uncomfortably, but at least Corvo wasn't nude any longer.

The shackles were put on him again, and the guards nearly dragged him further into the prison. The water was still dripping from him, but the heat from it was already dissipating quickly. Corvo knew that before long he would be shivering from being wet in one of the cold, barren cells that filled the prison. Already the cold air was turning his skin to gooseflesh.

Prisoners obviously recognized him and shouted as the guards led him past. Just being who he was meant that he wouldn't be popular here even before anyone heard what his accused crime was. Corvo kept his eyes focused dead ahead -even though he would love more than anything to lash out. He didn't belong here. He hadn't done anything. He'd tried to save her! He would have stepped in front of that sword without a second's hesitation! Corvo could never have hurt Jessamine. He needed to get free so that he could find Emily. Corvo couldn't leave her in danger. Even if he hadn't promised Jessamine to look after Emily, he couldn't possibly leave that amazing little girl to be in the hands of such villains. He would rather die. Somehow, Corvo had to convince someone that he hadn't done what he was being accused of. He had to get out.

Corvo was practically thrown into a cell, and the door slammed shut. Corvo laid there for a minute and just breathed. His lungs and throat still hurt from the dozen or so near drownings the guards had treated him to with the hose and Corvo's head was swimming from everything that had happened in so short a time. Slowly, Corvo pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around. The 'bed' was a slab of stone and the toilet- a Void awful smelling pit in the corner. There was nothing else but dirt and rock and a wall of metal bars.

It was three days before Corvo was taken to his first interrogation. Those three days were miserable with horrible slop that the guards passed off as food and flashes of nightmares the few times he had actually managed to get some exhausted sleep. The whole cell was freezing and being dumped in it wet meant that Corvo was reasonably sure he had the beginnings of a cold. Not that he was expecting any sort of treatment for that.

In a way, the interrogation room was blessedly warm and the chair, although uncomfortable, was marginally better than hard stone. By the tiniest fraction of a percent. Corvo wasn't surprised to see Hiram was there as Corvo was strapped down into the chair. He knew that this whole mess was definitely something the Royal Spymaster would handle personally. Corvo was, however, slightly surprised that Hiram already had a confession written out and just wanted Corvo to sign it. Corvo hadn't liked how quickly Burrows had pointed the finger at him at the gazebo, but the business with a pre-prepared confession cemented Corvo's suspicions.

Corvo knew that Hiram didn't get along with Jessamine over certain things, but Corvo hadn't thought he'd go so far as to hire assassins. But clearly, he had. And he wanted Corvo to take the fall. Corvo wasn't going to give him anything. He didn't know how he was going to get out of this mess and save Emily, as the Royal Interrogator began to 'persuade' him, he swore that he would. Corvo felt his lip split and tasted blood, and he vowed it.

Corvo had no windows in his cell. He couldn't honestly tell how much time had passed by. He could guess based on the slop they served as meals, but that was inaccurate because sometimes he wasn't given a meal. Hiram was displeased that Corvo hadn't signed the confession and wanted to punish him.

Corvo sat on the slab that was his bed and stared at nothing. Half his face was swollen, and his stomach was grumbling in protest of the inconsistent and meager meals. Blood was staining his shirt from his own wounds. Distantly, he was aware of the other prisoners making a ruckus but ignored them. Instead, he strained his ears to just barely make out distant announcements from the other side of the river. He could only catch snippets when the noise of the prison faded slightly, but he wanted some news. The guards surely wouldn't provide it. All they ever provided was insults and beatings.

Pain clawed at Corvo's chest as he realized the current announcements were a live broadcast of Jessamine's funeral. Corvo tried to breathe through the pain, and it came out more like a gasp. He dropped his head to hang between his knees as he tried his best to not imagine it. Corvo knew it was true, but he didn't want to accept that. He wasn't ready to accept it.

Jessamine had been so wonderful. Corvo adored her. Their relationship had been complicated, to say the least, but he treasured it. Corvo didn't particularly care for women on the whole, and so, he hadn't become her protector with any intention of even becoming friends, but she had been impossible to not love. She hadn't judged him for his low-class birth or his sometimes crass way of dealing with annoying nobles. Jessamine had appreciated his dry sense of humor and straightforward approach to problems, even if she couldn't always take his solutions for political reasons. Corvo had a tough life growing up, but Jessamine had made him feel like it had all been worth it since it gave him the skills to protect her. And then Emily. Oh, Gods, Emily. She was something that Corvo never thought he'd have. He would do anything for either of them, but all he could do was sit there and try his best to not cry. If he cried, the guards would no doubt take that as a sign to become worse. That he was weakening.

Corvo squared his jaw and fought against the knot in his throat. He could not show weakness. He just couldn't. Corvo swallowed hard even as the barely audible broadcast called for a moment of silence.

His dark eyes were swimming in tears, but Corvo absolutely would not let them fall. The sudden realization that he wouldn't even get to say goodbye to her properly hit him only a moment later and Corvo lost the battle. He was glad his hair was long enough to mostly hide his face as the tears fell. At the very least he choked back the noise though he couldn't quite help the painful gasps that escaped. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the agony ripping at his chest.

Daud stared out at the flood water below him and brooded. Nothing had been going well since he had killed the Empress. His guilt was eating at him constantly, and the city was giving disturbing death rattles each day. But somehow, what was almost worse, was that his crimes were being attributed to someone else. The bodyguard had been instantly thrown into Coldridge by Burrows for murdering the Empress.

Coldridge was a hard place to be, even for criminals who had been in other prisons before. Word was that Attano was keeping fervently to his innocence, which Daud knew would infuriate Burrows. His easy scapegoat was being difficult. Although that wouldn't stop him from carrying through with the already scheduled execution. Daud found the idea of the man being executed for his understandable inability to defend against five Outsider empowered assassins all by himself very unpleasant. The Knife of Dunwall already had enough nightmares about what he had done to the Empress and her little girl without adding the Royal Protector's blood to the debt.

By all accounts, the Empress had been doing nothing to warrant being killed. The people loved her, and she had made many policies that helped the lesser fortunate. She had dissenters of course. Every monarch did. But Daud could find little that would have made her assassination justified even in his mind. Her little girl had certainly done nothing wrong, and the Lord Protector had just been doing his job loyally. The whole situation soured his stomach and kept him up at night.

Rain was falling steadily, and Daud watched the ripples running into each other constantly across the flood's surface. Attano wasn't even supposed to be there at the gazebo that day, but he had been. He'd returned from his trip early, and Daud hadn't been in the least bit pleased about it. The Royal Protector was more than a little handy with a sword and pistol. Three of Daud's men had been injured in the attack -one very severely. If they hadn't been who they were and powered by the Outsider, Daud doubted that the assassination would have been successful. Daud was impressed by the man even though he really shouldn't have been. Attano's skill with a sword was practically infamous after it came out that he had won the Blade Verbena at such a young age.

"Sir?"

Daud almost flinched at Thomas' voice but managed not to. He hadn't been paying attention to if someone was around him or not. Daud wasn't really concerned with such things lately. "What is it, Thomas?"

"Another message, Sir. From Burrows."

Daud's scowl darkened. "Burn it." He hadn't been taking any messages from the so-called Lord Regent after the last job. Burrows kept trying and was no doubt threatening them, but Daud had toughened their security against Overseers and called Burrow's bluff. Daud had been proven right as no sign of retaliation came. It was too little too late, however. The Empress was still dead, her daughter spirited away somewhere with the Pendleton twins, and the Lord Protector was rotting away in prison.

There was a long silence, and Daud could smell the smoke of the parchment and wax seal from the letter burning behind him. "... Attano's still maintaining his innocence, I heard," Thomas probed cautiously.

"Of course he is. He is innocent," Daud pointed out without looking back.

"I'd have just thought he'd break by now," Thomas admitted. "Three months in prison is a lot for anyone."

Daud glanced over his shoulder at Thomas for a brief moment before inclining his head in agreement. Most nobility, when faced with hard time, crumbled in around a week. Two if they were stubborn. Corvo Attano, however, was no ordinary nobleman. He hadn't been born into it. He'd clawed his way up to it by his own virtues.

Thomas looked like he wanted to say something else and Daud admired his restraint. The silence lasted for almost five minutes before Daud felt like the pressure of it would snap him. "Outsider's eyes! Just say what's on your mind, Thomas," Daud ordered.

"Most of the men are unhappy with this," Thomas said quickly as if he couldn't actually keep the words in anymore. "Attano was never supposed to take the fall for any of this mess."

Daud continued to stare down at the water. "... no, he wasn't," Daud agreed after several minutes.

"It's sitting badly with almost all of us." The Whalers had never had -or at least not been so aware- that someone else was being blamed for their assassinations before. It made the ramifications of killing people unusually and painfully clear.

Daud was trying hard to forget what had happened. He was trying to distract himself by making plans to move the Whalers somewhere safer where Burrows wouldn't find them, but there were few large enough places for them to hide. The dead ends on that front inevitably had his thoughts circling back to what he didn't want to think on. Daud tried to tell himself that none of what happened was his fault. But he was failing miserably as the announcements looking for the Lady Emily filled the air from the speakers, and an innocent man was left to Burrow's so-called mercy.

At night, Daud remembered how Emily had screamed for her mother and the way that the bodyguard's eyes had looked as they dragged him off. After three months, Daud was reaching the end of his own endurance. He just couldn't seem to shake this guilt like he had so many other times. Daud's marks had all be bastards in some way or another. But this time, this time, he couldn't dismiss the damage in such a way. No, he had broken something that he shouldn't have.

Daud glanced back at Thomas. "Do we have that contact in Coldridge still?" he asked. "That man that works in the kitchens."

Thomas shook his head. "No, sir, died of the plague a few weeks back."

"Damn," Daud grumbled. He had been hoping that man was still in place. It would have made things so much easier.

"Might I ask what you're planning, sir?" Thomas asked, sounding slightly hopeful to Daud's ears.

Daud considered not telling him but then dismissed the idea. If the majority of his men were already uneasy, then his plan should help them feel better. "We're going to break the Lord Protector out of prison," Daud said. Chances were the man would try to kill them on sight, but Daud knew that Attano would be in no shape for a fight, so he was counting on being able to talk sense into the man as he recovered. True, it would take all of the charms Daud wasn't even sure he had, but Daud couldn't just let the situation stand either.

"Are you sure that wise?" That was Billie from where she was perching just outside Daud's window. "Attano is the last person we should want free right now."

"He'll want to secure the girl," Daud replied. "We can help him do that, and then we'll slip out if we have to. But I don't like being played a pawn. My agreement with Burrows had nothing in it about letting the Lord Protector get dragged off." True, Daud usually didn't care and wouldn't have bothered to clean up any unintended messes, but this was different.

"And if he decides to hunt us down for what we did anyway?" Billie asked.

"We'll deal with it then," Daud answered. He couldn't explain his need to do something about the situation. "Thomas, Billie, find some way into Coldridge and where exactly they're holding Attano."

"Probably will be high security," Thomas offered. "He's the highest profile prisoner they have."

"Find out exactly," Daud ordered. Breaking into Coldridge and then out again with Attano was not going to be easy. He just hoped that the Lord Protector was sturdy enough to hold out until they could finish preparing an escape. Daud could tell Billie still wasn't happy with the idea, but Daud didn't care. Even if this foolhardy plan to try and make some fraction of this overwhelming debt up to the other man failed miserably and Daud ended up dead, at least he would have done something.

Chapter Text

"We should have sex."

Corvo couldn't stop himself from spitting out the juice he had been drinking. He coughed and hacked as he put the glass down hard. After a few moments of trying to clear his airway, Corvo finally looked up again. "Jess, what the hell?" he demanded. "What brought that on?" He glanced around and was glad that the maids that had brought their usual private rest day breakfast had already left.

"We should," Jessamine said from her own seat at the other side of the table.

Corvo cleared his throat again -it was still burning a little from nearly inhaling citrus juices. "Jess... you're not even interested in sex," he pointed out as he mopped up his mess with a napkin. Corvo knew that Jessamine was ambivalent at best when it came to physical pleasure. He'd spent plenty of Fugue Feasts guarding her to know that by now. Jessamine usually spent Fugue trying to get Corvo to enjoy himself rather than using the time as most would assume by having sex with people.

"And neither are you," Jessamine said. "Well, not with me, anyway. That's what makes this perfect."

Corvo stared at her and tried to follow whatever the heck she was talking about. "Jessamine, how does that make having sex in the least bit perfect? Sounds like that would be horrible all around."

Jessamine sighed and got up from her seat to go sit beside Corvo instead of across from him. She put a hand on top of Corvo's and gave him a smile. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Corvo," she said softly.

Corvo sighed, "Jess... it's my job to protect you. Not the other way around."

"You're my best friend... even if you can't tell me if I look good in this new coat," Jessamine said with a gesture to herself.

Corvo glanced down at the garment in question. "It fits." Jessamine rolled her eyes at the exact repeat of the statement he'd given her when she first asked when he'd arrived for breakfast. "And... I like the color?" Corvo offered uneasily.

"Oh, so in-depth," Jessamine said sarcastically. "Honestly, you are the worst gay best friend in the world."

Corvo rolled his eyes this time. "My sincerest apologies, Empress. I will do my best to be more incredibly stereotypically gay for you," he said with just as much -if not more- sarcasm than she had used. "And I still don't see what you think us fumbling through sex would do... other than lead to far too much awkwardness."

"Because, if it gets out that we're having an affair... even just the rumor of one, it'll keep the Overseers from looking at you," Jessamine said as if it were obvious. "I know the High Overseer made comments to you again. Even if you won't tell me about it."

Corvo sighed. "It's not like he can do anything without proof," Corvo pointed out. "And I'm not inclined to give it to him. Besides, if your idea is to start rumors about us -not going into how horrible an idea that is just on its own- we don't really need to have sex to make a rumor."

"It would be the easiest way to start one," Jessamine argued. "Just cuddle up with each other a bit more, have sex a few times, and then we can pretend to break up, and everything goes back to normal."

"... I still feel this idea is horrible," Corvo argued. "First off, this could very well ruin your reputation. Second off, sex still doesn't seem necessary to cause rumors. And third, there is such a thing as Overseers accusing heterosexuals of being homosexual so it might not even work."

Jessamine folded her arms over her chest. "If I were a man you'd sleep with me."

"If you were a man I would wreck you, yes," Corvo said. "But that would sort of defeat the purpose here, wouldn't it?" he asked in slight amusement.

Jessamine sighed and leaned over. "Corvo. I love you, and I want you to be safe. We only have to pretend for a little while, and then you can go back to staring at watchmen's asses while you should be working," she said in a slightly teasing tone.

"I do not stare at watchmen's asses," Corvo said with an eye roll. "It's called training, and I'm teaching them swordsmanship. I sort of have to look at them."

"Not their asses," Jessamine said in a sing-song voice.

Corvo gave Jessamine a quick but gentle shove. "For someone not interested in sex you sure tease me about it enough," he grumbled. "Can't you find another hobby?"

"I could go back to trying to matchmake," she suggested innocently.

Corvo shuddered. "Void, please don't." Last Fugue had been etched into Corvo's memory as one to never repeat. Jessamine had made it her mission to find out what kind of men Corvo liked and had been relentless. The whole experience was terribly embarrassing and probably part of why the High Overseer suspected Corvo of violating scriptures now. Maybe Jessamine had realized that too, and that was why she was on this protecting him kick now.

Jessamine leaned over to rest her head on Corvo's broad shoulder. "I promise just long enough to get the High Overseer to stop looking at you, Corvo," she said. "And then I'll drop it and won't try to set you up with any handsome young men ever again."

Corvo sighed and kissed the top of Jessamine's head. She really did mean well, Corvo knew. And, he supposed a brief rumored affair wouldn't actually hurt anyone. Plus, there was nobody Corvo trusted as much as Jessamine and vice-versa. "... alright. But only because I hate it when you pout," Corvo finally conceded.

Jessamine hummed, and Corvo could tell she was smiling now. "You know, in another life, I think we would have been fantastic together, you and me." Jessamine looked up at him with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "If you didn't like men so much and I liked anything, that is."

Corvo kissed her forehead again. He did love Jessamine, just not like this rumor would imply, and he would do anything to keep her safe and happy. "Yes, I think we could have. But I do like men, and you don't like anything, so that's a moot point," he said. "Although... if you were a man, I would adore you even more than I already do."

Jessamine laughed and straightened. "Even more scandalous that would be," she said with amusement. "But, anyway, it's decided. A quick little fling and all will be well."

"Yes, Highness," Corvo said. "Whatever you say."

Neither Corvo nor Jessamine had anticipated the very few times they'd climbed into bed together to perpetuate a few rumors would later result in Emily. They hadn't at all planned for such a thing, but both of them immediately fell in love with the tiny girl they had stumbled into having. "And, in fact," Jessamine had said, "this might actually be perfect. I would only want you to be the one to father my child, Corvo. And now the council can't keep harping on it." It hadn't been planned but Jessamine had never liked the idea of having a child solely to be an heir yet fate gave them one. So they had Emily and Corvo never heard another peep out of the High Overseer about his orientation. Although Corvo and Jessamine kept up the relationship longer than intended for Emily's sake. They wanted her to have some sense of family, even if theirs was so incredibly far from average. Corvo and Jessamine had planned to sit Emily down when she was older and explained the unusual circumstances behind their family to her, but then nothing ever seemed to go quite according to plan.

Corvo was never going to have children. He just hadn't ever expected to do so what with his preferences, and so he had been caught off guard by how powerful fatherhood actually was. And now Emily was in danger, lost in Dunwall somewhere out of Corvo's reach, and traumatized by what had happened at the gazebo. Corvo had to get out to protect Emily. He just didn't know how he was going to do that. Corvo spent most of his time in his cell plotting possible escape plans and then cursing to himself when he realized he'd forgotten something and would have to find another way.

Corvo quickly came to hate whenever the guards would disturb his plotting and drag him out of his cell. He had lost track of how much time he had been in prison and how many times Burrows had 'interrogated' him in an attempt to get Corvo's signature on the confession. Corvo refused to sign it, though. He didn't particularly care what happened to him, but he wouldn't admit to something that he definitely hadn't done. Especially not since he knew perfectly well that confessing wouldn't actually spare his life.

Corvo had been slammed back into the chair yet again, and he tried to look exasperated and bored rather than apprehensive. Hiram was standing there again, and Corvo focused on him rather than the brute that was going to just hurt him some more. "Hiram... don't you have something other to do than torture me?" Corvo asked, although his voice was rougher than it used to be. His condition really was deteriorating. He had lost quite a bit of weight, and his hair had grown longer and shaggier than it had been.

"This would all stop if you would just confess, Corvo. Confession is good for the soul, or so the High Overseer says," Hiram replied casually even as his torturer rummaged around on a table. Corvo tried his best to ignore the brutal mute, but his eyes kept trying to wander that way. "Just admit to what you did, Corvo."

Corvo's eyes snapped to Burrows fully. "... I'll give you a confession, Hiram. I confess I have planned how to murder you every night since I got here," he spat out. "But I never hurt a hair on Jessamine's head, and you fucking know it!"

"Then tell us where Lady Emily is," Burrows ordered.

Corvo glared. "You tell me, Spymaster, surely that's something you should have figured out by now," he said sarcastically. Of course, Corvo only lacked actual proof that Burrows had planned this whole thing, so he knew that Burrows was hiding Emily somewhere. "Where did you put Emily, Burrows? She had better not be hurt!"

Burrows waved a hand. "I have no leads onto the location of the young Empress," he said utterly unconvincingly.

"For a spy, you're not a very convincing liar," Corvo grumbled, but then he knew that wasn't entirely true. Jessamine -and to some extent Corvo himself- had trusted Burrows. Corvo hadn't seen the betrayal coming at all. He liked to think he would have if the Plague hadn't been distracting him, but Corvo honestly couldn't be sure anymore.

"You're helping no one by being stubborn," Hiram said in annoyance.

"Oh? Am I supposed to think you'll pardon me if I sign your paper?" Corvo asked with an unamused laugh. "I'm not an idiot, Burrows." Confessing wouldn't spare him and would only serve to worsen the slander against him.

Hiram narrowed his eyes and then turned away. The Royal Interrogator stepped forward, drawing Corvo's attention. He held two long metal clamps with screws through each end in his hands, and Corvo clenched his own hands closed into fists upon recognizing them. Corvo fought to keep his fingers tucked in, but the massive meaty fist of the interrogator slamming against his face dazed him enough to lose the struggle.

Corvo tried to not show apprehension as his fingers were threaded between the two metal pieces and then the screws tightened to clamp down on his four digits firmly. The pressure didn't hurt, but the screws were not even remotely close to fully tightened down. Corvo fixed his eyes ahead of him and did his best to not react to the threat even as the fingers on his other hand were put into an identical clamp. He had seen skeletons and illustrations of men that had lost all their fingers due to these horrible ancient contraptions. Corvo wasn't aware Hiram used such barbaric items. The only ones that Corvo had ever seen were in the historical section of the Academy.

With his fingers in the metal jaws, Corvo was forced to keep his hands flat and his digits out. "You know, I take no pleasure in this, Corvo," Hiram said as the torturer picked up a long, thin sliver of metal. Corvo felt his heart catch but managed to not react outwardly.

"You really should stop acting like you're my friend, Hiram," Corvo said as he determinedly did not look as the torturer put the sharp tip of metal under the nail of his right index finger and started to push it into his flesh. The sharp pain nearly made Corvo cry out, but he managed to choke it back even as he felt blood start to well up and then drip down from his fingertip. The thin needle kept sliding deeper, and the ex-Lord Protector couldn't stop all of the noise from escaping his throat. He was still glaring at Burrows as best he could despite the pain. "I won't sign your damn confession!" he spat out through the need to cry out.

Corvo gasped as the needle shifted and sent bolts of pain all the way up his arm. "Don't break his fingers on that hand," Burrows instructed. "He'll need them to sign the confession."

The Interrogator grunted and reached for another needle. Corvo clenched his jaw tightly as another sharp pain was slowly thrust under the nail of his finger. Burrows watched impassively as more and more needles were slowly jammed into the delicate flesh of Corvo's nail beds. Corvo tried to let out as little indication of pain as he could but failed several times as the tiny spikes hit tender nerves. Blood was dripping from all of his fingers, and the needles were left sticking out of his hand like horrific ornaments.

Corvo was shaking with the effort of remaining as unaffected as possible. He didn't dare look at his hands for fear it would make everything that much worse. Sweat was beading across his skin, and Corvo was feeling the genuine urge to vomit from the pain and horror -he managed not to, but he wasn't sure how. Burrows frowned slightly and then reached to the screws on Corvo's left hand. He tightened one and the pressure built across the trapped digits. That made the pain even worse, but Corvo stayed as quiet as he possibly could.

Short, pained huffs escaped as Burrows kept slowly tightening the screws. The pressure and pain kept building slowly but surely. Corvo couldn't entirely stop himself from glancing down and cursed at the way his fingers were turning purple. The blood was trapped in Corvo's fingers, making them pulse which set off even more pain due to the needles and more of the crimson liquid to drip onto the floor beneath his hands. Corvo swore that his bones were creaking in protest, but he fought the urge to tell Burrows to stop. Corvo knew the only way to end it was to sign that stupid confession and he wouldn't do that.

Corvo bit his lip and tried -somewhat unsuccessfully- to not scream as the pain made black spots show up in his vision. Finally, the pressure became too much, and Corvo did scream outright as his fingers snapped under the unforgiving metal jaws. Burrows stepped back as Corvo gasped through unbearable pain radiating from his hands, especially his left. Tears were in his eyes, but Corvo blinked them away and clung to his anger as best as he could. "Are we really going to have to keep going, Corvo?" Burrows asked.

"F-fuck you," Corvo managed.

There was a dull clunk from beside the chair a moment later, and Corvo glanced over to see a bucket on a table. Very confused, Corvo couldn't quite gather his wits in time to stop the torturer from undoing the restraints on his right arm, lifting his hand -still skewered and pinched- from the armrest, and then lowering it into the bucket. Corvo screamed as his wounded hand was almost instantly submerged in salt water. He tried to pull his arm back, but the fat bastard was too strong to manage it.

The sting of salt against the wounds under his nails was relentless, and Corvo tried again to pull his hand back. "This can stop whenever you're ready," Burrows said loudly since Corvo was cursing and hissing in pain.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Burrows glared at it. "What is it?" he demanded.

The door opened, and a young guard came in. He stared with huge eyes at Corvo -still struggling to get his hand out of the bucket. The salty water was quickly turning pink, but the Interrogator kept his limb deep in the brine. "Yes, what?" Burrows snapped as the guard continued staring in horror.

The soldier snapped to attention even though he was visibly shaken. "S-sorry, sir... um, but there's a-a message -an important message, sir! From the guards you have on the Boyle Estate! You-You said that was the highest priority?"

Burrows narrowed his eyes and then made a sharp gesture. The lumbering torturer pulled Corvo's hand out of the water, leaving the captive man gasping for air even as his fingers continued to sting and throb. "Put him back in his cell. We'll continue this later."

Corvo tried to regain some amount of control over himself even as the Royal Protector part of him wondered why Burrows would have guards on the Boyle Estate. He didn't have long to ponder it though as the needles were roughly yanked free and caused him to cry out. Blood flowed freely from under his fingers and the ones on his left hand were swollen and deeply bruised. But despite the condition of his hands he managed to get in one solid punch to the brute pulling him from the chair. He paid for it by how it hurt his hand and the retaliatory beating, but Corvo considered the satisfaction he got from giving the Interrogator a fat lip worth a bit more pain.

Corvo had tried his best to splint his fingers with bits of bone from one of his meals and shreds of his shirt. He wasn't convinced he'd actually gotten them straight, but it was the best he could do. At least his other fingers weren't broken. They hurt like hell and were swollen and bruised like his left, but Corvo thought that -at most- they had been slightly fractured or strained which should heal fine. If he lived that long.

Burrows hadn't been around since the last torture was interrupted by whatever urgent matter happened at the Boyles and Corvo was rather glad for the short break. He could use the recovery time. He didn't like how his fingernail beds looked at all. Corvo hoped it was just bruising that was discoloring them and not something worse like an infection setting in. That would be nearly impossible to treat without actual medication.

"Hey! Hey, 'Tano!" someone hissed.

Corvo looked up from where he had been resting with his back against the bed slab and saw a hand waving at the edge of his cell. From the angle, he assumed it was a prisoner in the neighboring one. Corvo thought this convict was new as he couldn't recall seeing anyone in that cell the last time he was dragged out. "Ya awake in there, 'Tano?" the man -whose voice was pure gravel from heavy chain smoking- asked. His low born worker's slur made him even harder to understand, but Corvo had heard the butchering of his last name often enough to identify it. A few of the kids that worked in the barracks at the tower as runners and chore boys had that same habit of hacking off the first syllable of Corvo's surname.

"What?" Corvo asked after several minutes of staring at the waving hand. He wasn't used to being talked to in his cell. There weren't many people in this cell block, and none of them spoke to him aside from jeering when he was dragged off for his regular torture sessions. But Corvo didn't particularly care to make small talk, so that was fine. Still, he had a strange flash of insight from some obscure part of his brain that this new neighbor of his would annoy him if not dealt with now.

"Yer the one what kilt the Empress, ain'tcha?" the other convict asked.

Corvo scowled darkly. Oh, how he hated how quickly that lie had spread. Everyone was so perfectly content to see him as a heartless murderer. Corvo suspected it was another facet of him being foreign-born. Dunwall seemed to have this idea that anyone not from their own numbers would inevitably turn on them like a rabid mongrel, which Corvo found almost impossibly hypocritical of them. Especially considering how many horrible things he'd heard -and personally witnessed- from the nobility of Dunwall during his years of service.

The other prisoner was still yapping, Corvo realized after a moment. "-were fuckin' her weren'tcha? Tha's wha' eve'body says anyways. Void she musta really pissed ya off then ta make ya kill her. Or was she crap in bed like I always thought?" Corvo's eyes narrowed even as the other man laughed. Corvo might not have strictly enjoyed sleeping with Jessamine, but that wasn't anyone's fault. Especially not Jessamine's. "I ain't like 'em prissy like tha,' I like 'em nasty. More fun tha' way when they'll get all down'n dirty wit ya!"

Corvo got to his feet silently. He was swaying from pain and mistreatment, but Corvo's will was too strong to allow himself to collapse. The man in the other cell was gesturing with his hands animatedly as if this conservation was at all normal and that the two prisoners were friends somehow. "'Course I never liked her anyway," the convict was saying. "Women ain't got the righ' stuff ta rule nobody. Jus' askin' fer trouble. Ain't suprisin' at all we're in this mess now. So, I say good on ya fer killin' the wench-"

Corvo reached out and grabbed the other man's wrist with the most vice-like grip he could manage and wrenched the limb hard. The man slammed against the bars with a cry and the sound of it -and of his skull colliding with the metal- caused the guards to stir from their posts at the end of the cell block. Corvo didn't pay the soldiers any attention and reached out with his free arm. He could just manage to hook his arm through and grab the man's head to crush him to the unforgiving iron bars.

There was a snap as Corvo broke the other man's arm and the prisoner gave a strangled gasp of pain. Corvo could tell that his neighbor's throat was being crushed against the bars from how the man was scrambling and wheezing. "I didn't kill the Empress," Corvo bit out each word with vehemence and twisted the man's broken arm to make him cry out even more. "And don't you ever call her such a thing again!"

The guards were shouting at him now and hurrying down the hall. Corvo reluctantly let the other man go as the soldiers got closer to break them apart. Corvo backed away from the wall even as the other prisoner gasped for air and hacked when he finally got it. "Ya insane bastard!" the man shouted before going back to coughing.

The guards flooded into Corvo's cell and the dishonored Lord Protector was beaten to a pulp for causing trouble. No less than Corvo had expected after breaking another man's arm and choking him. But, Corvo was grimly satisfied when his neighbor was moved a few days later, and nobody else was put in his place. He also got a few less jeers from the other prisoners the next time he was dragged off to be tortured. He would take whatever minor victories that he could.

Chapter Text

Watch Officer Thorpe eyed the three men in front of him uneasily. Only one wasn't wearing a mask, and that man was by far the most intimidating of them. Rough looking with a perpetual scowl on and a scar down the side of his face that looked like it very nearly took out an eye. He looked vaguely familiar to Thorpe, but the guardsman couldn't for the life of him force his brain to work enough to come up with why. "You work in Coldridge don't you?" the man in front asked in a gravely voice.

"...Yes."

"In the B wing?"

Thorpe really didn't know how smart it was to answer these questions, but he could see several blades while he didn't even have a pocket knife on him since it was his day off. He had just been walking to the store when he'd been suddenly dragged into this alley. Now he was pinned to a wall and had no way of slipping away that he could see. This was a horrible day, to say the least. "What do you want?" Thorpe tried to not sound intimidated and doubted it worked like he'd wanted.

"In Cell Block B, is there or is there not a man named Corvo Attano?" The man in the red coat with far too sharp a sword hanging by his side asked.

"The Lord Protector? Y-yes... why?" Thorpe asked again while still trying to push down his nerves.

The leader of the masked men smiled, though it didn't seem all that friendly to Thorpe. It looked more like a predatory smirk. "I need you to slip him the key to his cell," he said. "You have access to it, I know."

"Absolutely not," Thorpe responded instantly. He was no traitor. He might not have the best or most high-ranking job, but he did the job he was assigned and did it well. Sure, he had his doubts about the actual guilt of some of the people held in the prison -the man in question was even one of them- but determining guilt wasn't his job. He just made sure that people didn't escape.

"Corvo Attano doesn't deserve to be in Coldridge," one of the masked men, this one in a blue-grey coat, said.

"That's not my place to decide," Thorpe said. Standing his ground surrounded by those empty-eyed lenses of the masked men was incredibly hard, but he wasn't a coward. The Watch Officer was perhaps not the bravest man in Dunwall, but he was trustworthy and dependable.

"You're going to want to rethink that," the one in the mask and red coat -which sounded surprisingly feminine to Thorpe- said in a vaguely threatening manner.

The leader, which Thorpe was finally able to place as the infamous Daud, raised a hand and the other two settled instantly. Even with their expressionless masks, Thorpe thought that the other two seemed unhappy to stand down. "I appreciate your loyalty, Watch Officer, however, I don't expect you to risk yourself for nothing. You will be compensated for your cooperation."

Thorpe narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Though he would like to say he had the moral fiber to not be bribed, he had to admit with the way things were in Dunwall lately he was far too tempted. His little son was sickly enough as it was before the plague and now, with everything going to shit so fast, Thorpe wasn't nearly as sure of their day to day survival. Elixir was so expensive even with his minimal discount from being a Watch Officer. Yet without those vials, his son would inevitably contract the plague.

Daud reached into his coat and pulled out a pouch from somewhere inside. Thorpe tried to not look too interested even as Daud held the bag up and out with just the slightest shake to make the coin inside rattle. "There's plenty of coin in here to make this worth your while."

Thorpe really, really shouldn't. He wasn't by nature a traitor, but that money could mean life or death for his son. The Watch Officer had a moment of indecision that stretched on uncomfortably, but Daud just waited. "If I do this... I'll need extra Elixir too," Thorpe found himself saying. If he got enough of both money and Elixir then perhaps he could hide out with his son somewhere the plague couldn't reach.

Daud was quiet for a few heartbeats and then reached back into his coat. After a minute, where Daud didn't move his eyes from Thorpe's face even for one second, the master assassin pulled out three red vials. "Slip Attano the key and leave a weapon out for him and we'll take care of the rest."

The three elixirs and the heavy looking pouch of coin were very tempting indeed. If it were just Thorpe by himself to worry over, a bribe like this wouldn't do a thing. But it wasn't only Thorpe. He'd already lost his wife the year before, he couldn't lose his boy as well. Finally, Thorpe nodded. "Alright, I'll do what you said. But I'll need a few days to arrange everything. If a key goes missing, they'll lock the whole place down faster than you can say Abbey of the Everyman."

Thorpe was a little disappointed that Daud didn't react at all to hearing the Abbey's name. Some foolish, childish part of him had always imagined a heretic -like Daud reportedly was- to at least flinch or something when the Abbey was brought up. "Three days," Daud said. "Any more than that and we'll have to assume that you're trying to cheat us."

Thorpe immediately realized that cheating Daud didn't ever happen twice. "I won't cheat you," he said.

"You had best not," Daud said as he handed over the money and elixirs. Thorpe had mixed feelings as he hid away the valuables under his own coat where they wouldn't be seen. The Watch Officer still had more than a little apprehension about this, but he pushed that to the side. Between his own building unease over the prisoner that was the ex-Lord Protector and the desperate need he had for what Daud was offering, Thorpe pushed all of his apprehension out of his head. Things would be fine. He was sure of it.

Watch Officer Thorpe could only stare in shock and a bit of terrified awe as the assassins in front of him disappeared in a flurry of ash and darkness, leaving no trace that they'd been there aside from the payment burning through his clothes to sear skin. After a moment, Thorpe looked around but saw nobody, not even assassins powered by dark magics. With nothing else to do, the man hurried out of the alley and continued along his way. Up above him, the three assassins watched silently. Daud gave a nearly invisible signal, and Thomas broke away to keep an eye on their Watch Officer. Daud watched for a moment before turning away. Thomas would make sure that they weren't betrayed.

Daud hadn't really wanted to use an inside man that he'd never worked with before on such a risky venture, but they were running out of time. Usually, Daud gave any informants or inside men several smaller tasks to prove they weren't trying to trap the Knife for glory, or whatever stupidity they thought they could pull off. Only after someone passed about four or five test jobs would Daud have called on them to do a task of the scale that Thorpe was being given. That would have ensured loyalty and skill. Unfortunately, splitting their attention to try and find information on the Outsider's mysterious 'Delilah' as well as finding a weakness that would get Attano out of Coldridge at the same time was slowing both goals unbearably. Just a few days ago, the Lord Regent (Daud even sneered the title in his mind he was so disgusted) had announced that Corvo Attano would be executed at the end of the month. There hadn't been time to continue looking for various subtler ways of slipping in and out of Coldridge, hence using Thorpe.

"Are you sure this is smart, sir?" Billie asked. Daud glanced over at Billie who shrugged. She still wasn't convinced of the idea to rescue someone who would want to kill them. "I just can't help but feel that our time would be better served looking into the Outsider's Delilah than getting a man, who must be half-dead by now, out of prison." That was an opinion she had been voicing ever since Daud had told them about the Outsider's message shortly before deciding that Corvo Attano should be released a few weeks after the assassination.

Daud looked across the bay at where Coldridge Prison was just visible through the fog. "Billie, you'll learn someday that the Outsider wouldn't have said anything at all unless it was somehow related to what was already going on." The Outsider may love his cryptic hints and riddles that infuriated Daud to no end, but the Whale God also had never given him any information that didn't relate to the immediate situation that Daud was involved in. The Outsider would never risk Daud's attention wavering to something less interesting.

"But why would he mention something if it weren't the most important thing to focus on?" Billie argued.

"Because it would be more fascinating," Daud said in a mockery of the Outsider's usual tone. "Trust me, Billie, not everything that black-eyed bastard says should be taken as gospel. He's more concerned with our reactions than being at all helpful." Daud didn't blame Billie for her assumption that the Outsider's words were immediately more important, she had never spoken with the God and so couldn't possibly know better.

Even with the Whaler Mask on Daud could imagine Billie's unhappy expression with no difficulty, and Daud had to admit (if only to himself) the Outsider's little hint had him worried as well. Delilah nagged at the back of his head not letting him forget the God's words. What with Thorpe now in play, perhaps Daud could afford for Billie to split off for just a few days. Daud wasn't entirely happy with that idea, but he also didn't see any real harm in it so long as Billie took the appropriate precautions. "If you're so worried about the Outsider's message, you can take over looking for Delilah until we're done here, Billie. It should only take a few more days," Daud said. "Information gathering only. We need to know what the game is before we jump into it." Billie nodded and then disappeared into a flurry of dark fragments. Daud looked one more time at Coldridge in the distance before he too Transversed away.

Corvo hadn't been certain of the exact date after only a few weeks in Coldridge, but he had still managed to maintain a vague idea of what the current month was. As time continued and he lost any sense of his surroundings more and more frequently due to the tortures, Corvo gave up trying to figure out what the day was and therefore how long he'd been in Coldridge. He felt as if he'd been in prison for years even though he was (almost) positive it couldn't have been that long. Corvo was beyond exhausted and just wanted all the horrible things to stop. If he never saw that torture chamber again it would be too soon. The 'interrogations' were increasing in frequency and brutality. More than once Corvo had been driven to unconsciousness from the amount of pain he was in, and it wasn't as if anyone ever tried to rouse him unless to hurt him more, so he had no idea how much time he lost each occasion. Burrows and Campbell were getting more and more creative to try and cause as much pain as possible and get him to submit and thus he was passing out more and more.

Burrows was ruthless and seemed to have an innate knack for finding just the right places to cut into or hit to cause the most pain. Campbell, on the other hand, was almost more frightening due to his pure sadistic creativity. Corvo had never liked Campbell, and the feeling was most assuredly mutual. The High Overseer had always wanted to catch Corvo violating a stricture even after Emily was born and Corvo's sexuality had seemed no longer questionable. Typically, the punishment for breaking a stricture wasn't too terrible (depending on severity, of course) but often, examples could be and were made from people found guilty. Having eyes plucked out for violating the first or one's hands chopped off over the third or even being starved to death for being found guilty of rampant hunger were all recorded in historical files as things that had indeed happened. Campbell had threatened all those and worse to Corvo since he'd arrived, although Burrows seemed to be keeping him from carrying through with anything too permanent.

Burrows seemed to think keeping Campbell in check would earn him a little cooperation for some reason. Perhaps he was trying to somehow become the 'better' torturer to get Corvo to sign the confession. Corvo, however, was determined not to give in to pain or fall for any stupid mind games. Sometimes, in the briefest moments when the agony was the worst, Corvo would consider it, but that was always quickly banished when he realized he had thought about it and then berated himself for the slip.

Currently, Corvo's face was aching and stinging where the damp air of the cell brushed across his exposed burns. The brands and burns were just the freshest hell that they were heaping onto him. As if the broken bones, open wounds, and starvation weren't enough already. Campbell had found some genuinely unpleasant brands somewhere, and the so-called interrogator was all too happy to follow Campbell's instructions on using them.

The prison was surprisingly silent. Corvo figured it had to be pretty late at night when even the rowdiest of inmates were passed out from their own less than a healthy condition. Corvo knew that he should rest to try and recover his strength, but he was almost too tired to rest, which was a strange oxymoron if ever he heard one.

Corvo was vaguely aware of an occasional announcement about an execution at the end of the month. He didn't pay attention to them at first, but then something that Burrows had said last time clicked into place. Something about the loose end being tied up after this month. Corvo had received a flash of insight saying that the execution everyone was in a tizzy about was, in fact, his own. The morbid part of his brain that was growing with every torture session wondered how exactly they were going to do it. Probably firing squad, he figured.

Corvo was failing, he realized that, but he had no idea what else he could do. He could hold out until his execution but then what? He'd be dead, and Emily would still be in danger. Breaking out in his current condition was incredibly doubtful. Perhaps if he hadn't had quite so many wounds, he'd be able to manage it or maybe if he hadn't been withering away from lack of decent food. Or, even better, if he had managed to find some opening that he could use to escape. In an ironic way that was his own fault. He'd looked over the security of Coldridge and improved it himself shortly after being appointed Royal Protector. Now even he couldn't bust out because he did too good a job. Failed at one job and was too good at another.

Familiar sounding footsteps came closer to the door even though it was far too late for anyone to be at this end of the wing. Corvo hid his face to make it seem like he was sleeping on the uncomfortable rock shelf that served as a bed. The guard was one that Corvo recognized instantly, though he'd never caught the man's name. He was one of the quieter ones that had at least not mocked Corvo and even seemed to be somewhat sympathetic at times.

The man slid a tray into the cell with a surprisingly large chunk of bread on it. "You should eat, Corvo. This meal comes from a friend," the Watch Officer said. He didn't even pause to see if Corvo was awake or not and, if he was, if he would even take the advice. The Watch Officer just headed out of Corvo's eyesight as if that was a totally normal thing to have done.

Corvo couldn't help but be intrigued and pushed himself up with as stifled a noise of pain as he could manage. The ex-Lord kept his eyes alert as he went to the tray and grabbed the bread. His eyebrow went straight up when something fell with the tinkling sound of metal on stone. Corvo realized that the size of the hunk of rock hard bread was to hide a key within and a note underneath. There was a hole carved into the bottom of the bread that the key had fallen out of and the letter was short but carefully crammed in the center of the paper where the meal had covered it.

Corvo scarfed down the bread -despite it being far too hard and dry to be in the least bit appetizing- even as he picked up the key and the note. Leaning heavily against the bars of his cage, Corvo read the short note about escape several times while continuing to munch on the closest thing that could be called a meal that he'd had for several days.

The bread was quickly gone, and Corvo crumpled up the note that he had been considering. There had been a mention of a weapon. His eyes flicked up to the table across the short hall where a sword was just sitting there all lonely and unattended -entirely against regulations. A pity that.

Corvo made sure to toss the crumpled note into the hole that was the toilet before he used the key to open the cell door and silently moved across the room to pick up the blade. It wasn't his sword that he was so familiar with, but it would do. Corvo glanced around the hall. There were other prisoners in their cells, but they were all asleep. Corvo heard talking and crept ever so slowly towards the source. The room that overlooked the courtyard had three guards in it chatting about nothing in particular.

Corvo mentally cursed and pulled back from the door frame. Though he was confident that he could take three of them on in a fight, he wasn't optimistic at how fast he'd be able to do it. Chances were he just wouldn't be up to his usual snuff, and one would shout or sound the alarm before Corvo could silence things. That would set off everybody, and his condition really was quite dire, and he didn't fancy a fight with all of the guards of Coldridge right then. No, slipping past would be smarter even if Corvo's hand was just a bit too tightly clenched around the handle of the watch sword. He recognized two of the guards instantly as some of the men that always seemed to get in a few extra punches or kicks before finally backing off.

The one on the left had been especially nasty. Not that long ago he had decided Corvo deserved extra punishment for some imagined slight Corvo hadn't listened to nor bothered to argue against. Corvo's back still throbbed from the bloody gashes left by the man's belt. Nothing would please the once Royal Protector more at that precise moment than running his sword through the man's throat. He even shifted his grip in preparation to do it before catching himself. Killing the man -however satisfying it would be- was not worth possibly losing his only chance to get free and find Emily.

Corvo's damaged fingers complained loudly at how tightly he held the sword, and he made the conscious effort to loosen his grip. Tearing his eyes away from the men, Corvo spotted a dark area off to the side behind a few columns that would help him slip by without being noticed. The room shouldn't have been so poorly lit, but Corvo wasn't about to complain as he used what looked to be lousy maintenance practices to his advantage. The three guards were so busy talking they didn't notice Corvo slip by to hide in the shadows. If they had been in one of Corvo's units, they would never have dared pay so little attention, and he was actually mildly annoyed at how easy it was to slip through to the other side of the room and through the metal door. Merely having a key slipped to an inmate should not have been enough to let Corvo get as far as he already had.

There weren't even any guards on duty in the next room. Corvo found some elixir and a tin of hagfish. Corvo despised tinned hagfish but was far too hungry still to worry about that. He peeled the tin's lid back and choked down the salty, slimy fish strips before continuing on his way. A guard just daydreaming by himself had the key that Corvo needed and was far too simple to sneak up on. Corvo dragged the man back into a dark corner while choking him out. The officer went down slower than Corvo wanted but he didn't make too much noise, so the ex-Lord was confident that nobody had noticed.

With the key in hand to the upper walkway, Corvo continued on. He wasn't that far from the front entrance. The hardest part would be in getting the front door open, but Corvo was sure he'd figure something out. He quite simply had to. There was a guard actually patrolling in the walkway but not with any concern. He too was painfully easy for Corvo to choke to unconsciousness. Maybe he really should have just killed the guards. If they were this incompetent, perhaps the alarm wouldn't have been raised after all and Corvo would have already been out of Coldridge.

Corvo silently padded down the stairs and then towards the door that would lead out to the courtyard of the prison. He was about halfway out, and nobody had even noticed anything amiss.

Just then, Corvo heard several sets of booted footsteps. He just had enough time to realize that the noise was from at least three guards walking up from the courtyard Corvo wanted to go to before his instincts took over. Corvo darted across the room and into the first door he saw. He waited with baited breath while mentally cursing as he listened for any sign he had been spotted. After a moment, it didn't seem like any of the guards were coming his way, and Corvo relaxed just a bit.

Only after he relaxed did Corvo realize just which room he'd taken refuge in. The stained chair was still bolted to the floor in the center of the room, and all the tools that had been used to make him scream endlessly were laid out in neat little rows on trays. The Interrogation Chamber would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

Corvo's feet seemed as bolted to the floor as the chair he'd spilled so much of his own blood over. His grip on his sword tightened, and he was distantly aware of his breathing rocket out of his control. Cold dots of perspiration began to form on Corvo's forehead and, with some degree of difficulty, he lifted his empty hand to wipe it away. Corvo's hand trembled, but he somehow managed to pull himself away from the memories trying to drag him down. He did not have time to break apart no matter how much he wanted to.

Corvo needed to escape and save Emily, but since he'd been forced to stop at this hell hole, he should also see what he could find that would be useful. He was still shaking as he quickly crossed the room -making sure to give the chair as wide a berth as was possible while doing so. Corvo was aware that the back room held various confiscated items. Surely something in there would be of use.

Grenades were too loud and messy, so Corvo grabbed them only for emergencies, but he did find several more elixirs and a few coins he could perhaps use once he broke free. He would need money to at least get some medical treatment. Corvo also spotted what looked like a spring-loaded trap fitted with a wire that he was willing to bet could cut through flesh like butter. All of what he found was deadly, and he snatched the items up without hesitation. If the guards made him rip them to pieces, well, it wasn't as if Corvo hadn't trained for years to do just that.

Corvo opened a safe that hadn't even been locked with an eye roll. His derision was brought to a screeching halt when he saw what was inside the heavy metal box. Sitting on the shelf was a medal sitting in a small box. He instantly recognized the black, red and white stripes on the ribbon and the cross-shaped piece of metal. Corvo hadn't really cared all that much about getting the commendation, but he had known that Jessamine was going to give it to him when he returned from his mission. She had -again- been trying to protect him even though that wasn't her job. Jessamine had wanted his work acknowledged, especially since being foreign tended to make it so that others brushed off his achievements. Corvo truly didn't feel he deserved a medal, especially after he had failed to save Jessamine, but he reached out and picked up the case anyway.

The gaunt ex-Lord Protector could only stare for several minutes before tucking the commendation into his shirt. He had no idea what he was going to do with the thing, but it seemed wrong to leave it behind. Corvo took a deep breath and tried to bring his focus back to the current situation. He had to escape. Even though it was the middle of the night, someone would undoubtedly notice he was gone soon. At the very least someone should be coming to relieve the guards that Corvo had knocked out.

Just as Corvo was turning to leave, he noticed something sitting up on a high shelf that seemed to... sing?

Corvo frowned and stepped closer. Yes, sing really was the only word for it. Or perhaps whisper, but the soft hissing noise seemed somehow too musical for those options. Corvo narrowed his eyes. Was it just his imagination or were the shadows of the room... bending in towards whatever it was.

As Corvo got closer, he realized that the item was a dish sized piece of bone with heretical markings engraved upon it and wire twisted through drilled holes. The singing was growing stronger as Corvo crossed the room until that was all that he could hear. He'd seen heretical artifacts before, but most of the ones he'd seen in the past had been tiny things that could fit in someone's palms and looked like three twigs bound together. This thing was most assuredly something... more than those had been.

The shadows kept wavering and bending around the piece of bone. Corvo had no idea why but he found himself reaching out with his broken fingers. The moment he felt the cool rough texture of bone the whole world seemed to shatter into a million fragments around him. He was falling and floating at the same time, and the singing of the artifact became the eerie echo of whale song echoing through the bottom of a boat late at night.

"Hello, Corvo."

Corvo turned and saw a young man with skin the color of a corpse and eyes that were bottomless pits. The man's black suit was pristine even though his hair seemed damp. Corvo had the strange thought that it always was that way, even though he most definitely had never seen this boy before in his life. Then Corvo realized the other was floating above the fragmented ground. Corvo wanted to say something but couldn't.

"Do you know who I am, Corvo?" The man asked while bending forward just slightly at the waist. The move seemed formal, imposing, and somehow patronizing all at once.

The man's black eyes glittered, and Corvo couldn't continue to look into them. The name floated up from Corvo's mind, and the strange being smiled in an odd way that didn't comfort Corvo at all. The Outsider.

Chapter Text

"What do you want with me?" Corvo asked after several moments of stunned silence. Of all the things he expected to happen during his escape coming face to face with the Outsider had not been anywhere on that list. The whale song vibrated through Corvo's body and made him uncomfortable. The ex-Lord Protector had no idea where the noise was even coming from - it wasn't as if they were on a boat where one might expect to hear whales. The reverberations in his chest made his bones ache, especially the ones that had been broken.

"I find you very interesting, my dear Corvo," the Outsider said.

Corvo studied that impassive face for a moment and tried to comprehend what he'd been told. He was somewhat less than successful. "I am interesting to you?" he asked. "Why would I interest you at all?" Corvo might have held an important role in the Empire, but he'd failed it and lost everything. Now he was fighting to just keep standing. He didn't see how that would be in anyway interesting to watch.

The Outsider smiled, and Corvo fought -unsuccessfully- the urge to shiver. There was something altogether too unsettling about the Outsider's grin, especially combined with his pit-like eyes. Something cold and predatory. "You, Corvo, are about to play a most important role in the fate of so much more than you know. You are the pivotal piece in a game I have been watching unfold for years. Soon, you will be presented with a choice. This choice was one you were always destined to make, and yet, I so rarely saw you be presented with it in this way. I wonder if that will change what you will choose."

"What choice?" Corvo asked.

"Now, Corvo, if I told you ahead of time, that would rather ruin the surprise," the Outsider said. He almost sounded amused but didn't quite manage to make the emotion sound real enough. The God sounded as if he were making a guess as to how emotion was supposed to sound -an educated one, but still not quite correct. "You've shown remarkable restraint already. Not many would have passed by so many people who had torn him to tatters and laughed while doing it."

Corvo's heart stuttered, and he tried his best to not remember the horrible pain and degrading conditions he had been forced to endure for the past months. The torture had been endless, and the taunts after had been almost as hard to bear. Most were convinced of his guilt and so held no pity or mercy for him. "They weren't worth it... there are others more deserving," he said. Slicing Burrows from throat to groin sounded far more appealing than just killing random guards drunk on their own circumstantial power.

The Outsider's eyes glittered beneath his dark brows. "Indeed. I shall look forward to what you do to them then. Will you manage to keep that restraint or will you finally unleash that rage that has been boiling inside you for so long?"

"I have no reason to be restrained," Corvo snarled. He'd been tortured to the brink and had only one thing he was interested in. Getting to Emily. If he had to cut a bloody swathe through all of Dunwall to accomplish that, well, that was what he would do.

"Do you not?" The Outsider asked mildly. Corvo didn't find that question to be worth a response and the god in front of him shrugged in an oddly fluid way that didn't seem at all natural. "The choices you make are yours alone. But I shall greatly enjoy the show."

"This isn't a show!" Corvo was unable to help but snap.

"To aid you, I've decided to grant you a boon," the Outsider continued as if Corvo hadn't interrupted at all. Corvo hissed as the back of his left hand burned. The burning was oddly lacking heat yet caused a spine curling sizzle of his flesh. The sting was reminiscent of the time Corvo had gotten splashed with a sample of River Krust acid, but ended sooner. An occult symbol was emblazoned on the back of Corvo's hand, already fading to a deep black from the gold that it had been. "My mark. Use it as you see fit, or don't. You remember how to use one, I trust?"

Corvo stared down at his hand for a moment before his eyes flicked back up to the Outsider hovering there placidly. "Why?" Something burned in the depths of his chest, threatening to overwhelm him entirely.

"As I said... you interest me," the Outsider said. "I see so many things you can become, and it is fascinating to watch some unfold while other options fade until only one path remains."

"So, all of this... is just to amuse you?" Corvo demanded. His throat ripped from his own tangled emotions -outrage, pain, sorrow- that were threatening to suffocate him. "Is watching me suffer so entertaining?"

"Your suffering? No. Your pain, although extraordinary in its depth, is not particularly unusual or worth my attention. Especially given the current state of things." The Outsider made the slightest wave with his hand as if even the topic was barely worth the effort of brushing aside. "What you do because of it, however, that is quite a different matter. You have been through a lot, Corvo. Your life turned on its head so many times in your life, and yet you soldier on. Seeing what you become, that is why I watch you."

Corvo was not satisfied with that, but the Outsider was entirely unaffected by the ex-Lord Protector's thunderous face. "No wonder he always called you a bastard," Corvo grumbled.

The Outsider smiled without even a speck of humor. "The circumstances behind my birth and existence are really quite unimportant at this point in time," he replied. "But, I'm glad to see your spirit is still within you like I thought. That will make for a much more fascinating course of events."

"Is that all then?"

The Outsider tilted his head, his alien eyes studied Corvo's scowl for just a moment. "One last thing, Corvo." He held out his hand and above it swirled darkness and ash. The shadows coalesced into a lumpy fist-sized object. "I give you this. The heart of a living thing, molded by my hand, to help you find what you need. Have no fear of holding it. Only you will be able to see and hold the heart. Only you ever could."

Before Corvo could question what the Outsider meant by that, the darkness swept around him, and he was flooded by some instinctive, icy fear. When Corvo blinked, he was standing in the back of the Interrogation Chamber as if nothing had happened. Corvo felt himself tremble and suddenly he was entirely too aware of the months in Coldridge and all the implications of that otherworldly visit. His knees gave out, and Corvo fell to the ground as the shaking worsened for a moment. Adrenaline was only making his current situation more difficult, but there was little that Corvo could do about that since it was also mostly what was keeping him upright. The black mark of the Outsider was blatant across his hand, and he felt the slightest weight on his chest right beside where he'd tucked his Naval Commendation. Corvo forced himself to take several slow breaths to try and get control of his body.

How long Corvo sat there, he couldn't say, but eventually, he managed to push everything down and focus only on the fact that he had to escape still. Coldridge was far from a safe place to just sit and try to gather his thoughts or wits. Corvo looked at his hand again. At least now he knew how he was going to get around that front door.

Corvo grabbed his sword and pushed himself to his feet again. It was long past time to leave. Corvo still made sure to give the chair as much room as he could and took a moment to peer through the keyhole of the Interrogation Chamber door before leaving. The guards that had unknowingly chased Corvo to take shelter in the room were nowhere to be seen. The ex-Lord slipped out of his hiding spot and crossed the open area to reach the courtyard of the prison.

There were a couple of guards hanging out in the ill-maintained yard chatting and smoking. One was sitting on top of an old hound crate while the others were sitting on a roughly hewn wooden bench across the packed dirt clearing. Some long grasses and weeds were growing on the edges but nothing truly pleasant to look at. The whole yard was only really a place for guards to hang out while they were off duty since no prisoners were allowed out of their cells anymore. Corvo knew that back when Jessamine was alive the prisoners had been granted at least some time in the yard if they were physically able and well behaved enough, but that didn't seem to be happening anymore. Or maybe that was just Corvo... it was rather hard for him to tell when he was isolated in B-wing almost all of the time.

The guards weren't paying very much attention as Corvo carefully moved off the steps to take cover behind a large concrete pillar. There was a patch of weeds growing around the base of the square column and Corvo couldn't quite help but stop and stare down. He had utterly forgotten what anything remotely resembling grass felt like, and though these were scraggly weeds opposed to a lush lawn that the very rich sometimes had, it was so different from hard stone Corvo took a moment to appreciate the change.

The cool feeling of plant life under his bare feet was somehow amazing to him. Amazing and energizing at the same time. One of the guards laughed at a bawdy joke and pulled Corvo's attention back to the task at hand. The ex-Lord forced his aching body into a crouch so that he was even better hidden and peered out through the branches of a bush that was half dead.

Corvo studied where they were and frowned as he realized they were actually positioned in places that wouldn't make it easy to slip by. They were all sitting in enough of a circle that between the three of them the could see almost all of the yard. Corvo shifted and looked around for any sort of alternate path to get to the other side of the yard where the entrance hall was.

The obnoxious guards were still making bad jokes and being generally distracting, but Corvo was sure they hadn't noticed him crouching behind the column. After a few more minutes, Corvo finally spotted the easiest way to get to the distant door, and fortunately, he had a way to do what he was thinking.

The ex-Lord Protector made his way back out of the yard and carefully made his way back up to the higher walkway. The height would be necessary to get the distance he needed without having to scramble up a railing in plain view of a guard. Corvo didn't see any other guards as he got to the observation room placed above the yard. Corvo reached across the desk and pushed at the window, but the latch didn't move. "Damn," he grunted as he tried and failed to open first one window and then another. Looking closer, Corvo realized that the metal frames had been welded at some point and the latches were not stuck closed. Only a few of the windows were even capable of opening, and all of them were now inoperable. Corvo scowled at the windows and, after a moment, distantly recalled that he himself had suggested ensuring that no windows that lead to the outdoors could be opened. For security.

Corvo was again foiled by himself. He would have to risk that climb and just hope that those three guards down below were as oblivious as the others he had come across. Corvo was just about to go back down when another thought occurred to him. He had made so many suggestions he doubted that they would have done all of them. He turned back towards the walkway and glanced upwards. Sure enough, the grating he had disliked were still up there although they had been 'covered' with what looked like loose metal plates.

Corvo jumped up and grabbed the grating. He groaned at the strain of hanging there by his arms. Corvo's arms were trembling from the effort as he reached over and started pushing and pulling at the grates. After a few moments of trying, Corvo found precisely what he thought he would. One of the grates popped up easily, and he was able to slide it to the side and climb up on top of the walkway.

His bare feet were silent as he headed along the walkway. He could get even closer to his target than Corvo had initially thought now that he was on top of the walk. Corvo reached the edge and peered over the barbed wire. He looked down at his hand. The Outsider's Mark glowed as he focused on what he wanted.

Clenching his fist made the energy in his veins build up to the point it was almost painful. The effort made Corvo's arms tremble even as he looked down at the doorway which was his target. He narrowed his eyes and focused hard, willing himself to be there rather than on top of the walkway. Perhaps it was just his condition speaking, but the act of focusing was so much harder than he expected.

Finally, Corvo was sure he would land where he wanted and leapt across the wire edge before releasing his fist. He smelled cold and heard a strange vacuum noise, and suddenly Corvo was crouched down beside the door quite a ways below where he had leapt from. His whole arm tingled and his broken fingers throbbed, but he put that out of his mind for the moment. He could worry about his injuries and how he was inevitably agitating them with all this activity later on.

Corvo sneaked through the doorway and then ducked behind an anti-riot blockade that was placed nearby. The main entrance of the prison had plenty of guard hanging around. They would have made it much more difficult to break out. If Corvo didn't have a new trick to get around them. Transporting himself up onto some pipes was easy enough but jarring. He couldn't seem to make things flow as well as he used to either because of his condition or because he was incredibly out of practice. Plus the transport just felt different. Faster and more frenetic. He also noticed that time hadn't slowed at all while he was focusing. Corvo could see how he would have to make faster decisions if he weren't well hidden.

Putting the strangeness of how he was moving around out of his mind for something to ponder later, Corvo climbed up the giant pipes to cross the room where none of the guards would notice. Guards so rarely looked up. Corvo paused at the top of the big gate separating the first checkpoint of the prison from the primary guard station to catch his breath. He was getting ever more exhausted. Corvo had gotten a short burst of energy earlier from actually having food, but that had already been used up.

There was a small hole in the wall nearby that several pipes used to get outside. Corvo was sure he'd told them to close that up, but he was glad that they had ignored that advice. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he dropped down from being on the gate to the top of the pipe that ran through the security gap.

The dark execution yard was incredibly ominous since Corvo knew that the observation stands being constructed were for people to watch him die. The stand across from the observation area was already stained red, and the wall behind it was spattered with holes from stray bullets. Corvo swallowed hard and pulled his attention to the wall of Coldridge. He just had to get over that, and then he'd be actually free. Luckily, it was a bright enough moon out that Corvo would most likely be able to climb down the rock face to get to the river without breaking his neck. Corvo glanced around the moonlit yard for the best way to get down from his perch and then up to the wall. He could always teleport with his mark but just having done it twice already had drained him too much. He was afraid if he used the mark again he would actually pass out.

Before Corvo could decide how to get down without hurting himself more, there was a familiar noise of air being displaced and right beside him on the pipe a man in a grey leather jacket wearing a gas mask over his face appeared, hands already raised to show he was unarmed. Corvo considered heavily stabbing the man in the throat anyway. Before he could, though, he was distracted. "We were starting to get worried that Thorpe got caught," a somewhat familiar voice said.

Corvo frowned and searched his memory, but the tinny quality of the respirator made it hard to be sure. "Man, they really did a number on you in there didn't they, Attano?" the whaler continued, catching sight of the ill tended to wounds and general raggedness of the ex-Protector. The assassin reached up and pulled his mask off, and Corvo was struck with a vague sense of recognition. The dark hazel eyes were particularly familiar, but it had been years since Corvo had seen an unmasked Whaler so he couldn't be sure who this one was. But, based on the familiarity this whaler addressed him with, Corvo had a reasonably decent guess at who it was.

"It's me, Corvo. It's Quinn." Well, it was nice to know his identification skills hadn't gotten too rusty in the hell hole that was Coldridge. Even with people he hadn't seen in years.

When Corvo didn't say anything back, Quinn attempted a smile, which fell rather flat. "Still the quietest bastard in all the isles, I see," Quinn said with false cheer. There were several awkward minutes of silence where Quinn fiddled with his mask. "Look, I know you must hate us after what happened... but we can't just let you take the fall for this. You weren't supposed to be in Dunwall during the attack..." As if that really made any of it better.

"Does Daud know you're doing this?" Corvo asked finally.

"He sent us," Quinn said after a pause. Corvo was about to ask what Quinn meant by 'us' but then stopped himself. It would be foolish to assume that no other Whalers were around just because he couldn't see them. Even as he thought that he spotted another Whaler in a blue coat appear on top of the wall. Quinn didn't give Corvo any warning at all and used a grip on the freshly escaped man's elbow to Transverse them over to the wall.

The surprise had not been a pleasant one and when they reappeared Corvo stumbled. He hadn't taken a breath before the jump either which hadn't helped his sudden surprise and he had to struggle to make his lungs work again. Quinn winced and rubbed Corvo's bony shoulder in apology and comfort. "Sorry. Easy, Corvo. Remember, nice and slow."

"I'm fine," Corvo said as he pushed himself back up from where he'd stumbled. He looked out at the river and then over to Quinn, who had yet to put his mask back on. "Burrows hired Daud," Corvo said. Even though it wasn't really a question, Quinn nodded to confirm it. Corvo was practically vibrating with rage until he took another couple of deep breaths.

"You gonna be okay, Corvo?" The other whaler, who by his voice Corvo thought was Thomas, asked.

At first, Corvo wasn't going to dignify that with any sort of an answer at all. He didn't like answering stupid questions. Once he'd managed to get his trembling under control, he finally did answer him though. "When I get Emily back."

Quinn shifted uneasily where he was standing still. "We don't have her, Corvo..."

Corvo turned and glared at his one time best friend. "Then where is she?"

"We had to hand her over to a couple Lords in league with Burrows. They're holding her until everything settles down. But they wouldn't dare hurt her, Corvo," Thomas said. "You know Daud wouldn't hand her over if he thought she was going to be in danger."

Corvo didn't reply to that right away. There was a time when he thought a lot of things of Daud, but now he had been forced to reevaluate everything. And not for the first time in his life he was not pleased with the conclusions he came to. "Take me to Daud."

"Corvo-"

"Now."

In his early years, Corvo had easily taken orders, but now he was far more accustomed to giving them, and his tone broke no arguments. Thomas sighed but nodded. "Well, we were going to give you at least a few hours to recover first, but this way," he said as he slipped off the top of the wall. "Just... try not to kill him right away?"

Corvo didn't make any promises.

Chapter Text

Swimming across the canal to the sewer entrance was not fun. The water, probably polluted from runoff, stung Corvo's open wounds and his already tired muscles screamed as he forced himself through the current to the other side. Corvo lagged more than he usually would have but he clambered out of the water and up onto the shore without drowning, which he thought was quite the accomplishment all things considered. Quinn, still bare-faced, ducked down to help Corvo to his feet, wincing as the ex-Lord's wet shirt started to redden as the fabric clung to where river water had re-wet or re-opened several wounds. Corvo had to rely more on Quinn to get him fully upright again than he would have really liked but was too grateful for the help to really complain. Thomas quickly shut the gate to the sewers behind them and then Transversed up ahead to lead the way again.

"Hold up a minute, Thom," Quinn said.

Thomas paused, and Quinn moved forward to mutter something to him low enough that Corvo couldn't hear. Not that he really needed to listen to figure out what was going on. Corvo leaned back against the dirty wall of the tunnel and took the chance to catch his breath as the murky water pooled beneath his bare feet. They hadn't really needed to stop, and Corvo was sure that Quinn had manufactured a reason just to give the waterlogged ex-Lord a minute to catch his breath. If it weren't for the fact that he really had needed it, Corvo would have been quite upset at the special accommodation. As it currently was, Corvo couldn't even muster the effort it would take to give a halfhearted glare.

Quinn came back over to where Corvo was leaning and pulled out a red vial of Sokolov's Elixir. "Here." Corvo hesitated for just a second too long, not having expected to be handed an Elixir. "You know you need it."

Corvo narrowed his eyes and snatched the tube from Quinn. "I'm aware," he all but growled. The Elixir had always been one of Corvo's least favorite things to taste, but at least the sting of his wounds began to fade, and Corvo felt some of the pain beating at him disappear. Elixir, however, was a patch job for injuries at best, and Corvo knew he would need actual medical treatment. Hopefully, he would get some soon.

Once he finished the vial, Corvo tossed it off to the side where it clattered, and the glass broke. He gave himself another moment before finally pushing off of the wall to stand straight. "You sure you're alright?" Quinn asked as he looked Corvo over carefully. The wounded escapee managed to not sway where he stood, but it was a near thing. He would really instead lay down for a few minutes even though there wasn't time for that. Instead, Corvo just nodded. There wasn't really anything to do about his condition right then but to keep pressing forward until they got to somewhere safe.

Corvo didn't have to limp along too far before they reached another gate. This one, however, didn't even reach the top of the service tunnel and the three men were able to fit into a crawlspace between the cage and the tunnel ceiling. Corvo followed along with a grimace as he tried to keep up and also not agitate his wounds. The three of them reached the other side of the caged area of the tunnel and dropped down. Corvo couldn't quite help himself from stumbling upon landing, but Thomas caught him before he hit his knees. Corvo hated his current state; unfortunately, there wasn't much else that could be done about it.

Quinn and Thomas led Corvo along the tunnels until they reached a small alcove that looked just large enough for a young child to crawl through. Thomas ripped away several boards that had been blocking the hole and then pulled out a small trunk that had been wedged in so tight several bits of masonry fell out along with it.

Thomas opened the trunk and started pulling out various things to hand off to Corvo. Primarily dry clothes and actual boots. Corvo quickly tossed off his wet clothes, not at all caring where they landed, and then dried off as best he could with a towel that was dry and clean but perhaps a bit too thin. The cold of the sewers and water that they'd gone through left Corvo shivering so he hurried to dry off as quickly as he could. Once he was mostly dry, Corvo pulled the clean clothes on and shoved his feet into scuffed up and slightly too small shoes. The heavy whaler coat that Thomas handed him made Corvo pause, but he wanted the warmth too much to put up a protest. Corvo ruffled his hair with the towel one last time to try and get the last drips to stop before turning to see Thomas and Quinn waiting. Quinn looked uncomfortable, and Thomas had yet to remove his mask but seemed to be looking away judging by the angle of his head.

Once Corvo was again dressed, the three of them continued through the tunnels. Corvo wasn't sure where they were going and didn't bother asking either. After what felt like at least an hour of traversing the service tunnels with only a few pauses when Quinn noticed Corvo lagging too much, they finally reached a sewer grate that had been pulled back. Corvo could smell the briny air of the Wrenhaven, and see the dim -but still brighter than the sewers- open air beyond. Thomas slipped out first, and then Quinn let Corvo go out second.

A small skiff was waiting at the shore with another Whaler sitting at the rudder. Corvo wasn't sure that four of them would really fit in the small boat, but he wasn't about to protest. The assassin at the rudder looked up and then half rose. "Corvo..." The mask was pulled off just a moment later, and Corvo had to admit he was a little surprised to see Rulfio.

The silence fell instantly and heavily. Corvo didn't know what he was supposed to say or do here. While in a way it was good to see Rulfio again, the circumstances hindered any pleasure he usually would have from seeing the older man. Rulfio also seemed a bit torn on what to do. "We should go," Thomas finally said.

Corvo didn't say anything and just got into the boat, sitting down perhaps a bit heavier than he really meant to. Quinn sat beside him and Thomas right in front while Rulfio retook his position at the rudder. The river was surprisingly calm today, and the skiff had no trouble at all going along the shore. Corvo's tired body was trying to drift off to sleep now that he had stopped moving, but he wouldn't allow it. Instead, he focused his attention on the shore they passed by and the places he recognized. He wasn't as familiar with this part of Dunwall as some of the others, but he knew enough to have a general idea of where they were. He had a few ideas of where they could be going. Corvo hadn't quite been able to help himself but speculate on where the Whalers had moved off to during his absence. The first thing he had done upon returning to Dunwall after his appointment to the Royal Guard, was to return to the old apartments just down the river from Kaldwin Bridge. There hadn't been any sign of a Whaler having been there for quite some time, and though Corvo hadn't been surprised by that, he had still been a little stung with disappointment. After some time, Corvo had narrowed down the places he thought that the Whalers could have set up a base while he was gone.

As Rulfio angled the skiff towards the Flooded Financial District of Rudshore, Corvo realized his second guess had been right. His first guess had been an old abandoned Slaughterhouse that had been built long before whale oil had been the boom it became. It had suffered a fire, and the owner had just let it rot, but the place had been well situated near several easy access points to various methods of travel. Rudshore was more remote -though still in the city- but more extensive and a place the watch didn't come too close to. He had thought that convenience would have been more of interest than remoteness, but he also had no idea if this was first, second or third option for Daud. "Not first," Corvo decided more to himself than those in the boat with him. He didn't think Daud had picked Rudshore first, but then he was always on the lookout for better places to hide than the one he had currently.

"What's that?" Quinn asked.

"My second guess of where you were hiding," Corvo said even though that hadn't been what he'd meant when he said it.

Thomas looked back at them, and Quinn shifted uneasily. "You, uh, knew we were here?" Quinn asked. Corvo looked over at Quinn and just gave the other man a blank look. Quinn quickly became even more uncomfortable. "...right," he muttered. "I guess you were Royal Protector and all..." That implied access to some intelligence casual Watch Captains wouldn't have, not to mention Corvo's more profound understanding of their methods.

Corvo was silent as they passed a few disguised checkpoints and saw little flickers of movement out of the corner of his eyes of Whalers moving about. Then he started to see makeshift walkways and bridges spattered here and there. "We're in the old Chamber of Commerce building mostly," Quinn said suddenly. "But we've spread a bit since we have the room. It's not so bad even if everything is constantly damp feeling."

The boat slid silently through a street that was now a river and passed under a scrap blockade. Corvo felt a familiar wrenching pain in his chest as he stared up at the giant marble statue of Jessamine staring down at them. There were even more Whalers here along with veritable warrens of ramps, bridges, and platforms along the streets. For a long moment, Corvo couldn't pull his attention away from the visage of the mother of his child larger than life in front of them. The pain was still there and fresh as if he'd just been holding her crumpled body in the gazebo moments before.

Then there was a flash of black out of the side of his vision, and his eyes slid down to a platform where the black had resolved into red. Blood red. Daud was standing there waiting and staring at him. Corvo didn't even think.

His head rang with a high pitched noise that made him ache as he unleashed his own power. There was a startled sound from the others Corvo just made out over the ringing in his ears, but he was already through the Void and landing in front of a very startled looking Daud. Corvo's fist flew with all the lagging strength he had managed to save up, and the snap of bones was satisfying as hell, even if some of them were his own damaged fingers finally breaking completely.

Daud stumbled back, and Corvo would have continued despite how his vision was speckling with black dots, but Quinn was suddenly there in front of him with both hands pressed against Corvo's chest. "Easy, Corvo! You promised!"

"I did not!" Corvo snapped as Thomas tried to help Daud. Daud however, shook off the attempt and straightened himself. His nose was fully bent and streaming blood. "He deserves a hell of a lot worse than a punch."

"You're right," Daud said although his voice sounded off due to the damage Corvo had inflicted. Daud spat out some blood that either indicated a loose tooth as well or some blood had gone back instead of down his face. "And you're welcome to it later," he added.

Corvo narrowed his eyes. "I don't take orders from you." Corvo wasn't a Whaler any longer. Hadn't been for years.

Daud fixed Corvo with a gaze that used to intimidate a younger Corvo but now only enraged him further. "No. But you can't kill me," Daud stated.

"Oh no?"

"No," Daud said as he wiped some blood off his face. "You punched harder at fourteen than you managed just now."

Corvo felt his anger stir up even more. "Well, I'm hardly opposed to trying again," he growled.

"You'll fall over," Daud replied. "You're already swaying where you stand. If Quinn weren't holding you up, you'd probably fall flat on your face."

Corvo gnashed his teeth and clenched his fist, but the last bit of his magical stamina had been well and truly used up. His eyesight blacked out entirely and Quinn let out a startled noise as he had to catch a suddenly slack Corvo. Corvo's vision returned slowly, and the ringing in his head was even worse than before. He felt he might throw up the poor excuse of nourishment he'd had during his breakout but somehow didn't. He could feel the bile at the back of his throat, though. As Corvo's vision slowly cleared, he lifted his head again. His eyes met Daud, and he dared Daud to say something even slightly resembling an 'I told you so.' Daud wasn't stupid, however. Instead, his eyes flicked briefly to Corvo's hand and then up again with an expression so muddled with different things Corvo couldn't even begin to decipher it. "Where did you get the mark, Corvo?" Daud asked quietly and in a tone that Corvo couldn't quite place.

Corvo could answer, but they both knew there was only one place he could have gotten a mark. Daud certainly hadn't granted the Arcane Bond to him again. Instead, Corvo decided to be difficult and said nothing at all. Daud waited for a few heartbeats, but Corvo just stared at him in a challenge. Daud finally sighed and looked at Quinn who was still half holding Corvo upright. "Take him to the Infirmary. Get him patched up."

Quinn nodded and after several attempts to coax the half-dead man to cooperate, managed to finally get Corvo moving again. Luckily, the Infirmary wasn't too far. Daud watched as Corvo was led away although he was starting to push Quinn away to try and move on his own steam again. Stubborn bastard. Daud sighed again and reached up to his nose. He steeled himself and then cracked it back into a placement more correct and then wiped some of the blood off his face. "Did he really punch harder when he was fourteen, sir?" Thomas asked.

"... no," Daud admitted. "But he would have collapsed if he tried more than that. How bad off is he?"

"Pretty bad," Thomas supplied. "His back's tore up pretty good, covered in nasty looking burns and his hands-"

"I saw that," Daud interrupted. When he'd looked for the mark, it couldn't have possibly escaped his notice how even Corvo's hand had been bruised and swollen and, judging by the makeshift splits, broken badly. "Did you know he had the mark?" Corvo hadn't used it to fend them off at the gazebo so it had to have happened after that although why he wouldn't then use it to escape, Daud had no clue.

"No," Thomas said. "Quinn Transversed him over the wall. Didn't think to look for a mark."

Daud nodded. They'd had no reason to think Corvo would have one. "Unless he has to stay in the Infirmary, see to a room for him. No doubt he's not going to be holding off on trying to kill me for long, but he needs a place to rest before he can do that." And Daud didn't doubt Corvo would be trying it sooner or later. Even if it just came in the form of trying to beat Daud to death. Daud might even let him.

Chapter Text

Corvo could recall the first time he met Daud with intense clarity. He'd been thirteen with his voice just beginning to crack and out of his mind with terror and trauma. Daud hadn't been there for him but stumbled across his actual target -a man at least four times Corvo's age and three times his size- slobbering all over the naked teenager that had been chained to the headboard by his hands to keep him from fighting back quite as hard. And then, very suddenly, there had been blood everywhere. Daud had loomed up above him, his scar still fresh, red, and angry on his face and the scowl that Corvo had quickly grown very familiar with darkening his eyes to a burnt umber color. Daud hadn't had as much of a reputation back then, but still, enough of one -especially with that scar now to identify him- that Corvo had known of it even held prisoner like he was. Corvo had been sure he was about to die, and he hadn't minded the idea.

Daud had surprised him then by undoing the shackles and offering the traumatized teen a place to go. Corvo hadn't had any better options and -looking back on that time with far more years behind him- Corvo could realize that he'd been dealing with a case of hard hero worship. There had only been a few of them back then (Rinaldo, Rulfio, Yuri, Misha, and Javier), and Corvo had been the youngest. Just six years had separated Corvo and Daud, but it had felt like more somehow which Corvo equally found unsettling and comforting at various points in those early years. Corvo clung to Daud perhaps more than was healthy, staying close whenever Daud allowed it and sometimes even when he didn't. They slipped through the streets of Dunwall doing all manner of jobs and slowly gathered more and more people that quickly became known as the Whalers due to their heavy coats and masks.

After a few years, Corvo was no longer the youngest Whaler and had quickly become friends -brothers really- to Quinn and several others his own age or a few years younger. About that time the others his age were starting to discover sex for the first time, and Corvo had felt distinctly... uncomfortable. He hadn't told anyone the circumstances behind how Daud found him, and he was sure that their leader hadn't shared either. As the others fooled around and explored, Corvo was ashamed that he'd already more than known everything they excitedly whispered about.

Corvo's shame quickly morphed into a need to become accepted (probably unwarranted, but he'd felt it all the same) and he'd tagged along with Quinn and the others as they went out to play around in the streets of Dunwall with strangers and each other -however, the mood struck them. Corvo had been horrified to quickly realize that women held no interest for him in the least. The others hadn't understood, but they'd tried to assure him in the ways only siblings could. None of what they said or did helped Corvo to think of himself as less broken.

The realization was like opening floodgates and, no matter how Corvo tried to not think about it at all, he couldn't seem to stop. He tormented himself by going back and forth between fantasies and self-recrimination. Not helpful in the least was that most of those said fantasies revolved around Daud himself -the hero worship having morphed into something deeper without Corvo's awareness as they worked together. Corvo tried unsuccessfully to muffle his emotions.

Everything built up until the Fugue Feast of Corvo's sixteenth year. Too much drink had flowed into the Whaler's base as it did everywhere during Fugue. Corvo had tried to drink away the conflict in his mind which he now knew was a pointless thing to try. But he had and ended up very drunkenly acting on his own self-repressed desires by kissing Daud. Daud had been quite drunk himself, and so they'd ended up going much too far for a mere student and teacher or even friends -if they had actually managed that.

Corvo hadn't been particularly surprised but still gutted when he'd woken up a few days later with a terrible hangover mixing very poorly with the rolling of the sea on a ship bound for Karnaca. The mark on his hand had faded off, and there was a letter from Daud for him in his pocket. He hadn't been able to bring himself to read it. Corvo had known things would end badly, which was why it took so much drink to make him act in the first place. He knew Daud well enough to know the older man would balk at being involved with a subordinate or really anyone. Daud didn't like entanglements, and romantic trysts often led to that.

But there had been nothing for Corvo in Karnaca anymore. He wasn't the boy that had been taken from there three years before. He felt like a fraud wearing someone else's face. His mother had been overjoyed to have him back, and he tried for her sake to be that innocent kid again. Corvo failed more often than not, and he took his frustration out in the streets with his sword. His mother had grown ill from how little she'd looked after herself when he'd been gone. While she'd been looking for him. Corvo did his best to care for her once he returned. The only thing he'd been able to do back then was fighting so when the Blade Verbena rolled around it seemed the obvious solution. He hadn't really wanted to become a soldier, but there had been prize money in the mix as well. Corvo hadn't really thought he wouldn't win although everyone jeered when he entered.

Effortlessly enough he bested the wealthy lords' sons and practiced middle-class that had laughed at the street kid from Batista that they didn't realize had been taught by the best and learned on actual people in Dunwall's backstreets. The money he got helped his mother recover somewhat from her illness, and, for a few years, Corvo tried hard to be happy in a place he no longer felt entirely comfortable.

And then, after two agonizingly slow turns of the calendar, Corvo had ended up sent right back to Dunwall by Theodanis. Only this time he was to guard the Emperor's Daughter. His mother had passed not long after he left and whatever last lingering thread he had to Karnaca died with her.

Corvo had thought -foolishly, he now realized- his past as a Whaler would never come up when he was living in the Tower and focusing only on keeping Jessamine and later Emily safe. Now, not only were both of them gone, Corvo was with the Whalers again with his own mark, and a body abused worse than he could ever remember -including when he was a child. He was too exhausted and too hurt to properly function, but he tried to make his body do so anyway for his pride.

Much to his never-ending annoyance, Corvo didn't make it to the infirmary before his body just completely gave up on him. He wasn't even sure if Quinn had caught him before he hit the floor after he collapsed since it all went dark about halfway to the ground. All Corvo was really aware of was waking up in a bed some unknown amount of time later with bandages wrapped very snug around many parts of his body and blankets over top of him. Corvo kept his eyes closed at first and just listened. "-ealing fast, but then the mark is probably helping with that."

"How long do you think he'll be out of commission?" That gruff voice was unmistakably Daud. Corvo would recognize it anywhere.

"I'd like to give him at least a month to recover, but if he's anything like he was as a kid, I doubt I'll keep him down for more than a week." The tinny voice coming through the Whaler mask was harder to place from Corvo's memories, but eventually, the appropriate Whaler came to mind. Montgomery had taken over the medical responsibilities about half a year after Corvo had joined Daud's little band. "But, a week should be enough for bare minimum recovery," Mont added.

"How could they do this to him?" Quinn muttered from somewhere very close by. "I mean, he's Royal Protector that makes him one of them too, right? That would be like us torturing you, Daud."

There was an awkward silence after that question as everyone thought about if they could even do that. "It's not the same," Corvo finally said when even he felt uncomfortable with the tension.

"Corvo!"

Corvo opened his eyes and saw Quinn's face surprisingly close. He pushed Quinn away with one arm and struggled to sit up. "You should stay down," Montgomery said although with how nobody tried to push him back against the bed they must have realized it was pointless.

"How long?" Corvo asked as he rolled his sore shoulder, which only made it hurt worse, he noted. He couldn't even recall when he'd injured the damn thing. That wasn't as alarming to him as it probably should be.

"Two days," Quinn answered quickly. "We were going to have to wake you to at least drink and eat something here shortly."

"Speaking of, you should do that," Montgomery said before bringing him a glass of water. Corvo downed it quickly and coughed some as the tail end of it tried to go into his lungs. "Easy, guzzling it down won't help you. There's plenty more."

"Quinn, go get him something to eat," Daud ordered. Quinn began a protest but then Daud glanced his way, and the Whaler quieted. Instead, he nodded and Transversed off. There was an awkward tension in the room and then Daud sighed. "Montgomery, if you don't mind. I need to speak with Attano."

"A novel experience for you, I'm sure," Corvo couldn't help but say bitterly. He was vindictively glad when Daud stiffened, but somewhat disappointed nothing else came of it. One punch was not nearly enough to bleed off all the venom he felt towards the other man. Daud apparently wasn't going to indulge his need for a fight, though.

Montgomery did as asked and left the room. That only made the tension even worse, however. The two of them hadn't actually spoken (not counting that very brief confrontation when Corvo first arrived) in years, and Corvo certainly wasn't going to be the one to start it. Even if Corvo were feeling in the least amicable towards Daud (which he definitely wasn't), Corvo wouldn't have known what to say to the first man he'd ever loved. And been hurt by.

"We'll help you get her back, Corvo. I promise," Daud finally said after several minutes.

"I know you will," Corvo said. "Because, if you don't, I'll rip you apart an inch long shred at a time."

Daud studied Corvo for a long moment and then nodded. "You weren't supposed to have gotten caught up in all this-"

"So I was told," Corvo replied. "But oddly enough, that doesn't exactly make me feel any better!"

"No," Daud sighed, "I suppose it wouldn't." The silence between them returned only marginally less awkward than before. "I am sorry. I don't deserve forgiveness, least of all from you, so I'm not asking for it. But I truly wish I could take it back."

Corvo studied Daud out of the corner of his eye and said nothing. He didn't have a response for that because all of what Daud had just said was true. Well, Corvo supposed that Daud could be lying about being sorry, but something in Daud's demeanor told Corvo that it wasn't actually a lie. It might have been genuine guilt, but Corvo had so rarely seen such a thing on Daud's face that he couldn't be sure. Daud wasn't one to feel guilty over his choices. He made them for better or worse and moved on. At least, the Daud that Corvo knew years ago did.

The silence lingered a while longer. "What do you know of Bundry Rothwild?" Daud asked.

Corvo's eyebrow went sky high. "The Slaughterhouse owner? Hardly anything. Why?" It seemed an odd question to ask out of the blue.

"While you were out, I got a report in telling me that he owns a ship. Called the Delilah. The Outsider pointed me in the direction, implying it has something to do with everything that's going on in Dunwall currently. I thought there might be some connection to the crown I wasn't aware of," Daud answered.

"None that I'm aware of," Corvo answered. "Did he say why 'Delilah' was important?"

Daud snorted. "Of course not. I was rather hoping it had something to do with where Burrows was keeping your girl stashed away, but there's no guarantee of that."

"He might be keeping Emily in a stinking Slaughterhouse?" Corvo asked, enraged at the very idea of his daughter anywhere near one of those horror fests. Corvo had been in plenty in his life, and they made his stomach turn. He could kill a man easily enough -messily even- but watching as living creatures larger than anything were vivisected over the gore of others of their kind was a bit much. It would definitely not be suitable for Emily either.

Daud shrugged. "He could be. Burrows needs her safe and unharmed for their ploy to work but also not somewhere that people might find her. Not too many people would go wandering about in a place that reeks of dead and rotting whale."

Corvo frowned, it didn't quite seem right to him. Not that he could claim to understand the Outsider given his singular meeting with the deity, but something about it didn't settle in his mind properly. "Why tell you the name Delilah if the Slaughterhouse was the important bit?" he asked aloud.

"No way to tell until we find out what's so special about Delilah," Daud admitted. "It might be that the ship is where they're keeping Emily... a mobile hiding place might serve them very well. Or perhaps there's a meaning behind the name that we won't know until we get in there and find out from Bundry."

"And this is all assuming that it has something to do with Emily at all," Corvo said sourly.

Daud nodded. "But it's the only lead I have, so I'm going to run with it as far as I can."

"We," Corvo said instantly. "If Emily is there, there is no way I won't be there when you find her."

"And if she's not there you'll have pushed yourself for nothing," Daud replied. "You should stay here and recuperate."

"You don't get to tell me what to do anymore, Daud," Corvo sneered. "You gave up that right when you took your mark back and put me on a ship for Karnaca without a word."

Daud sighed heavily and dragged a hand over his face. "I was trying to protect you. You were just a kid-"

"I hadn't been a kid for three years. And you aren't that much older than me," Corvo snapped.

"You were a kid," Daud snapped back. "And I should never have touched you when you were that young. And that drunk. It was an abuse of my authority and your trust. I couldn't keep you close after that. You deserved better."

Corvo stood up even though he was shaky on his feet. "I wanted you, and you wanted me. What is abuse about that?"

Daud was quiet for a moment and seemed to visibly force his temper back down. "Because I was your teacher. Your leader. I was trying to act like one and do right by you."

"By taking away everything in my life. Again," Corvo said bitterly. "I didn't want you to be some teacher mentor figure, Daud." What he actually had wanted he left unsaid since he didn't figure it mattered anymore. Daud hadn't let himself be that either. There was a long silence as neither backed down from their points. Corvo forced the issue out of his mind to allow something far more pressing than ancient history to be dealt with again. "I'm going with you to investigate this lead, and I don't give a damn what you have to say about it."

"Even if it kills you?" Daud asked quietly. "Because it might. You're too soon out of Coldridge to be trying to pull any sort of reconnaissance. Much less get into any fights if they occur. I'd rather not be responsible for leaving your daughter entirely orphaned."

Corvo was quiet for a minute as he fought down his initial response to that. His defiant insistence that even as injured as he was he'd be able to do whatever he needed. It burned at Corvo to admit that Daud did have a point to his current state just as much as it burned him when he'd tried to lash out on the balcony when he first arrived. "Mont said a week. Is there any indication anything will happen between now and then?" he grumbled. Daud studied Corvo for a moment before shaking his head. "Then we'll go then."

Daud let the silence linger again. "I should try and talk you out of it," he muttered. "But you're right... I don't get to tell you what to do anymore. And as I said, they won't risk anything happening to Lady Emily. A week then."

Chapter Text

Corvo spent only half a day more in the infirmary before he was moved to a separate room. Well, really it was an entire -if small- apartment. The apartment that they gave Corvo was high above the flood waters and across from the Commerce Building. The only not bricked up window in the apartment overlooked a rather depressing flooded courtyard that several river crusts were beginning to form within. They weren't large enough to be a danger yet, but the little beasts would have to be dealt with soon, Corvo thought. If he had his gun he'd handle it right then, but that was still probably locked up somewhere, and Corvo was in no condition to go searching. So, instead, he stared at an old half-crumbling and half-painted brick wall. Corvo didn't mind the lack of view though. The other option would have been being on the other side of the apartment building and having Jessamine's beautiful and larger than life face right there across from him. That would have been worse than the courtyard by far.

The one window in the apartment not blocked did let in a massive draft, but the heavy whaler coat that Corvo was again wearing kept him from being cold and the bedroom door kept out the breeze during the night -so long as Corvo dropped something across the base of it. Aside from the drafty window, the apartment was in reasonably good condition, which surprised Corvo immensely. He had been sure that every residence in the part of the city was entirely unsuitable to live in. That had been why the watch had evacuated the buildings shortly after the damns broke and the river flooded the area. Jessamine hadn't liked the idea of closing off the district and just letting it sit and molder, but the plague had been quickly sweeping through the more impoverished areas of the city by that time and that had taken precedence over the flood.

The apartment that Corvo had been given was well stocked with medical supplies and food, and the sink in the bathroom even worked -the one in the kitchen was actually missing from its spot, but Corvo didn't care. The first day Corvo had gotten to the apartment he hadn't even noticed the incomplete kitchen and just collapsed to the bed to sleep for nearly ten hours. When he finally woke up again it had been dark, but a note had been left by Quinn telling him that the kitchen was stocked with everything he could need. Corvo had wanted to devour everything in the cabinets, but his stomach had rebelled after only a few bites of real food, so he'd stopped before he made himself sick. The same thing had happened the day before with the food Quinn had brought him after he argued with Daud, but Corvo had choked down a bit more despite that just to not listen to Quinn's pestering. He'd definitely regretted it after the fact and spent most of that night struggling to not throw up.

Corvo sat on the ledge of the one window and stared out of it, lost in his own thoughts as the mutilated heart in his pocket thumped. There was something about the organ that greatly unsettled Corvo, and he didn't want to take hold of it. The Heart was surprisingly heavy on his chest although Corvo couldn't even recall putting it there. In fact, as he thought back, Corvo had no idea what he'd done with it after the Outsider had given it to him. He had come out of that... wherever it was that the Outsider had brought him and he had focused only on getting out of Coldridge after that.

When they'd given him fresh clothes, Corvo had not paid attention to where he'd put the thing. He had to have put it in his pocket, but Corvo would swear he'd done nothing of the sort. And then after he collapsed, they'd taken his clothes off to tend his wounds, and yet it was still with him? That didn't seem possible and yet, he woke up with the thing still on his person. The oddness of the heart always being with him even when he couldn't recall how it had gotten there unsettled Corvo immensely.

The Heart was far too persistent a hum against Corvo's chest, and he forced himself to put it to the very back of his mind until he could find some way to not be unsettled by the thing. Instead, he kept himself busy with running through everything he knew about the state of the Empire before he'd been arrested. Looking back Corvo could see all the sinister tendrils of Burrows woven into the government. All of the connections and suspicious conveniences that Corvo had just associated with Burrows' job as spymaster had clearly been something more. Corvo would have to pull all of those veins of corruption free after he saved Emily. It was an exhausting prospect, but it had to be done for Emily's safety; therefore, a duty Corvo would fulfill without hesitation. The problem occupying most of his attention at the moment, however, was that no matter how he racked his brain the name Bundry Rothwild just would not be linked to Burrows. Perhaps Burrows had used some middleman, Corvo pondered, but Burrows was a paranoid bastard even when not plotting Regicide so Corvo couldn't be sure that he would trust a middleman.

There was definitely something he was missing about the whole mess, and Corvo was determined to work it out. His eyes remained fixed mostly unseeing on the building across from his window where an old mural advertising Davidsons Wax had been half scraped off the bricks while his brain worked on the problem. Though even if Corvo had been paying attention, he wouldn't have actually seen the sun rising -the other building was in the way, and it was probably too foggy beyond that- but the sky was growing a lighter grey by the moment. Corvo sipped at the steaming coffee from the mug that he'd been continuously refilling since he'd woken up. Coffee was a luxury Corvo'd sorely missed in prison and was thankfully one of the few things his stomach wasn't uncomfortable with. It was awkward to hold the mug with so many of his fingers splinted, but he would have slurped in through a straw if he'd had to.

Though he was no longer paying the closest attention to the environment around him, Corvo was aware that the three Whalers that were positioned on the nearby roofs and balconies were still standing guard. He did idly wonder if they were there to protect him or to protect from him when he'd first spotted them, but he also didn't care enough to actually find out. Corvo took another sip of coffee as he carefully shifted -although no position was particularly comfortable with his injuries. His shoulder was one giant pain no matter how he adjusted himself.

Judging by the tinge of grey still over everything, the sun hadn't fully broken free of the horizon when there was a knock on the door to the apartment just beyond the kitchen. Corvo contemplated not bothering to answer, but then thought that perhaps it was news about Emily, so he got up.

Corvo put his mug down on the small table against the wall of the kitchen as he passed and put his now free hand on the kitchen knife that he was keeping on his belt. They hadn't given him an actual weapon, but he didn't trust the situation enough to be unarmed around them. Corvo supposed they were probably wise to not give him a sword with that thought fresh in his head. The lack of trust gave him painful pangs in his chest, but he couldn't handle being betrayed again either. He hadn't liked Hiram Burrows at all, but Corvo would have sworn until he was blue in the face he was better than these true colors he'd shone. That only made the sting of what happened catch Corvo more off guard and dig deeper somehow -not helped at all by the physical pain Corvo had endured. Another knock at the door was interrupted when Corvo turned the obnoxiously loose and therefore noisy knob.

When the door opened, Billie was standing there with her mask hooked on her belt and a less than impressed expression. Corvo didn't know Billie as well as he probably could have, but their circles hadn't intersected much when Corvo was a Whaler. Billie's ambition was always taking her out to do the hardest jobs and find leads and train day and night while Corvo was content with where he was and what he was doing. He kept busy, of course, but he'd been a perfect little follower for Daud and allowed the older man to tell him where to go and what to do. Corvo hadn't minded being directed by someone he'd -at the time- trusted with his life. Plus his teenaged libido had been distracted constantly by Daud at the time.

Corvo and Billie stared at each other for a solid minute before Corvo lifted an eyebrow in question. Billie narrowed her eyes just slightly, but Corvo wasn't about to be the first to talk. He was silent by nature and -even if he weren't- his throat still felt a bit raw from his tortures and he'd like to not strain it worse than it already was. "You really are still too quiet," Billie sighed and reached into her red jacket. Corvo wondered why she'd been allowed to wear that color. Back when he was a Whaler, only Daud wore red. Sure, it wasn't a rule per se, but there was an odd, unspoken taboo around that color that kept everyone else from daring to dress in it.

A bundle of papers came out of Billie's coat, and she held them out. "Daud said to give these to you. It's all of our research so far on Delilah and the Slaughter House. Not much, but he thought you'd want to look at it before we go," she said.

Corvo took the small stack and turned it to the side so that he could estimate about how many notes and reports were there. Probably thirty some pages sparsely written on and folded up, he thought. "... done more with less," he said after a minute. Of course, he'd done more with less when he had the entire library of records and background information in the palace Archives to supplement it, but that wasn't really the point.

"You don't really need to go with us, you know," Billie said as she refastened the buttons of her red coat.

"If Emily is involved, I'm going," Corvo stated as he turned from the door.

"We don't know that she is, though," Billie said quickly. "Daud thinks she might be, but we're only guessing and grasping at straws here." Corvo paused halfway through his turn to glance more directly at Billie. "The Outsider didn't say anything about Delilah being involved with Emily. He didn't even mention her."

Corvo thought about that for a second. "He didn't mention anything to me about Daud either," Corvo said. Using something the Outsider didn't say as proof to the negative seemed a bad idea. There was an awful lot of things that the Outsider didn't seem to say. "Do you have any other leads besides that?"

Billie pursed her lips together into a thin line. "No," she admitted after a minute.

Corvo nodded. "Then I'll take what you do have," he said. Corvo certainly wasn't going to sit there and do nothing until they had a definite lead on where Emily was.

"You're injured and out of practice with no guarantee that Emily will even be there. You should stay here and continue to recover," Billie said. Corvo paused again and turned fully to face Billie. He'd heard that particular tone before, but not in many, many years. The gruff harshness used to cover over concern was distinctive. The last time that Corvo had been addressed in such a way was back when he was in the Serkonian Guard as a recruit after the Blade Verbena, and his Captain was trying to make him 'take care of himself' as if Corvo didn't know how to do that.

"You can't talk me into staying here," Corvo said firmly. There was just no way whatsoever that was going to be happening.

Billie frown deepened. "You're a liability."

Corvo narrowed his eyes and reminded himself that Billie probably had no less than fifteen different weapons on her and he had a kitchen knife. "A liability. Really? You've seen me fight with injuries before, so don't give me that line."

"That was before," Billie said. When you were one of us.

"Yeah, I've had actual military training now," Corvo replied.

Billie looked distinctly unimpressed. "The Watch training program is a joke," she said.

"I wasn't talking them," Corvo said. "The Serkonian Royal Guard training program is a lot more rigorous. And even still, I went through ours."

"Our old one. It's been years, and we've updated it," Billie said. "We've gotten through your guards plenty of times."

Corvo felt his temper starting to rise and pushed it down. "Not when there wasn't a snake letting you in," he snapped. "I'm not arguing with you, Billie. I'm going."

Billie opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted, "Billie. Drop it."

Daud wasn't in Corvo's view, but his voice was rather unmistakable. Billie was still scowling as she gave Daud a murmured 'sir' and vanished halfway through a bow. Corvo waited and, sure enough, Daud stepped forward where Corvo could see him just a moment later.

There was a long, awkward silence. "If you were going to follow her you should have just brought this yourself," Corvo said, slightly raising the packet of papers.

"I wasn't following her," Daud denied. Corvo's eyebrow went up, but he didn't bother voicing he doubts aloud. That damned silence was back again that neither of them was willing to fill with idle chatter. Finally, Daud sighed. "Can I come in, Corvo?"

Corvo considered for a minute before easing back from the door. He wasn't afraid of Daud nor was he entirely unarmed, and besides that Corvo really doubted that Daud was looking for a fight after everything. Daud sat in the one chair in the room, Corvo recognized it as a deliberate move to make himself more vulnerable. Corvo wasn't sure if he appreciated the attempt or not. Corvo perched himself on the windowsill where he'd been sitting before and just waited for Daud to speak.

Daud opened his mouth but then seemed to think better of what he was about to say because he closed it again briefly before speaking, "The name Havelock mean anything to you?"

Corvo's eyebrow went up again. "Admiral Havelock? Met him a few times at some functions with Jess. Well decorated and respected. Why?" Corvo hadn't done anything with the man personally, but Havelock was high enough ranking to attend quite a few functions that Jessamine held. Corvo thought, for a terrible minute, this was yet another name that would have to go on his list but then Daud continued.

"He's gotten himself into a little bit of hot water with Burrows." Daud reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. "Was very vocal about the Royal Spymaster suddenly sitting on the throne and said not enough was being done to find Lady Emily. Almost got himself demoted before he smartened up and held his tongue."

Daud's lighter clicked loudly in the silence. A moment later, Daud exhaled a stream of smoke as a sigh. "I've gotten three requests from Burrows to kill him already. Chances are I'll get more."

"So, why don't you?" Corvo asked before he could stop himself. His tone was too obviously bitter and angry. Corvo didn't want there to be emotion in this conversation. He was too tired to run through that gamut again with Daud.

"Because I know too much on Burrows now. He can't guarantee my silence, so he has very little to threaten me with," Daud murmured. "Not that that's stopped him, but they're particularly empty threats. But we're hardly the only assassin in this town, Corvo. You know that. If Burrows wants Havelock dead badly enough, he can just hire someone else to do it, even if it would be messier."

Corvo shrugged. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I've been considering going to Havelock... telling him to lay low for a while until everything gets straightened out," Daud said. "You'll need all the help you can get once you get rid of Burrows."

"Is he in immediate danger?" Corvo asked.

Daud shook his head. "I doubt it. Once I stop getting offers to kill him, then I think it'll be more dangerous for him. That's when Burrows will go to some other assassin for his dirty work."

Corvo thought about it for a few moments. Though he would like to protect someone who had been apparently showing enough loyalty to endanger himself, Corvo's first priority was -and always had to be- Emily. "Warn him when you stop getting requests," Corvo said. "Or take the job and just not kill him. That should buy him plenty of time." Corvo wasn't even sure why Daud had brought this to him. The only thing he could think of was that it wasn't what Daud wanted to say. The Master Assassin had apparently changed his mind before talking, after all.

"What did you really want to talk about, Daud?" Corvo asked.

Daud was quiet for a moment before sighing out another stream of smoke. "I forgot how perceptive you could be..." he murmured. There was another lingering silence that Corvo wasn't going to be kind enough to break. Daud rolled his cigarette between his fingers for a moment before pulling something out of his coat and put it down on the kitchen table.

The something was a thin, short object wrapped in a dark blue -nearly black- cloth that had gold embroidery on it. Corvo's eyebrow went up. Daud gestured to whatever it was with an air of awkwardness. "I picked that up for you," Daud said.

"You can't buy your way into my good graces," Corvo said.

"It isn't like that," Daud denied. "I bought it... before," he murmured. "But I never actually got around to giving it to you, and it felt... wrong to leave it with you when you left."

"Were sent away, you mean," Corvo corrected.

Daud cringed slightly but then sighed and nodded. "Yeah... look, I know you think I shouldn't have sent you back home but I wasn't going to be like those men I found you with. You can't make me feel guilty about that," Daud said. Corvo said nothing since Daud seemed to be building to try and say more. The Master Assassin bought some time by taking a long drag of his cigarette. "I shouldn't have sent you away without saying anything at all," he finally admitted. "That was cowardly. But I know you, Corvo. There's not a more stubborn creature on this planet than you. And, while, most of the time I don't mind that, I couldn't let you be stubborn about that. You'd have fought tooth and nail to stay, even when you shouldn't have."

Corvo frowned, but he couldn't find fault with that reason. Corvo wouldn't have let things end without a fight. He'd wanted Daud for too long by that point that just allowing that one night fizzle to nothing wouldn't have been acceptable. Daud gestured to the cloth wrapped whatever it was. "Open it or don't, keep it or chuck it from the window, it's up to you. But I always had intended you to have it." Daud got to his feet and cleared his throat before adjusting his coat. "I'll send someone with any updates on Lady Emily we might get," Daud added before disappearing into a cloud of ash and shadow.

Corvo stared at the spot that Daud had fled from. Though the word felt odd to associate with the Master Assassin, Corvo really couldn't think of any better word for it than that. After several minutes, Corvo's eyes drifted down to the gift sitting there beside his now cold coffee.

Spite rose up instantly, and Corvo felt like chucking it out of that window like Daud said without even unwrapping it. That would serve Daud right, Corvo thought. But, Corvo was curious enough that he reached out and pulled back the dark fabric until whatever it was unrolled onto the table.

It was a folded up crossbow.

Corvo almost smiled but didn't. He hadn't used a crossbow in ages. He used to prefer them once upon a time. They were quieter, and he found them more accurate, both of which were important features. Corvo picked up the crossbow and unfolded the limbs and examined the weapon he'd unexpectedly been given. The black metal was matte finished so that it wouldn't reflect light in shadows and the dark wood handle was carved with intricate little curves and swoops. It was beautiful. Corvo wished Daud had given it to him before.

Chapter Text

In the end, Corvo didn't toss out the crossbow. It was quite simply too fine a weapon and Corvo didn't have any of his own gear anymore so discarding it would have been foolish. True, Corvo could have just used the wrist bows that were plentiful in the Whaler's supplies but he was already wearing one of the blue Whaling coats and carrying one of their swords on his belt, he didn't want to rely on even more of their gear than he had to. Corvo didn't even give in to the temptation to take any bone charms with him. If he needed an occult boost, he'd get it himself.

Corvo half-regretted his stubbornness later while he very much struggled to keep up with Daud and Billie as they made their way across the rooftops and a charm that boosted one's speed was chiming away back in the Flooded District. Though he did his best to not act like he was lagging, Corvo was constantly a roof or more away from the other two. Not only was running and jumping pulling at his not entirely healed wounds but Corvo's new and flashier Transversals -which he'd started calling Blinks because of said new features- didn't have as far a range as the others' did. That meant Corvo had to do about twice as many Blinks to make up the same distance, which was quite tiring.

But, despite the difficulties, Corvo managed to arrive at Slaughterhouse Row just a moment or two after Daud and Billie did. Habit wanted Corvo to stand tall and proud right there for everyone to see -to make himself the threat and therefore the target of any attacks. That was his job to protect Jessamine and Emily just by being there. But now, not only was he not in the best condition yet for a fight, but he also had refused to wear the gas masks that the Whalers wore (for multiple reasons) and was currently one of the most wanted people in the Empire right there with Daud.

Being easily visible was the worst thing he could do right now, so Corvo pushed down the Royal Protector part of him and tapped the now little used Whaler part. Corvo crouched down on the metal grating to peer down Slaughterhouse Row for threats. There were more Watch around than he had thought there would be. But somewhat more importantly there was the familiar sound of discharging electricity down the row.

"Damn," Daud grumbled as the Arc Pylon sparked down the street. "Those Pylons are worse than the Walls of Light."

Corvo didn't bother agreeing aloud. He wasn't fond of either invention, which was why they had only been implemented in a few places back when Jessamine was alive. And even then those places weren't anywhere the general public would be to potentially be killed by the things -she had wanted Sokolov to create a less lethal setting for the things, but Corvo had no idea if that had ever happened. At least this Pylon would be easy enough to get around. The catwalks going from one building to another should be high enough to be out of the range of the electricity.

"There's apparently a worker's strike going on," Billie said.

"Well, that should mean fewer people in the factory to interfere," Corvo mused quietly. Less possible witnesses was always a good thing.

"True, but it also means that getting in is going to be harder," Billie said. "You can't get in the front door without a time card, and Rothwild's butchers are confiscating every one that they find. We'll either have to confiscate one back or find another way in."

"There's always another way in," Daud said. "Let's worry about getting to the Slaughterhouse first, shall we?" Daud and Billie both disappeared in a flurry of darkness.

Corvo saw Daud reform a little ways away balancing on some pipes that ran along the side of the building. Corvo wasn't sure where Billie went off to, but he doubted the woman went very far. In a flash of blue-white light, Corvo moved from his current perch to a few feet behind the already crawling Daud.

A watchman came out of the building right in front of them, and Corvo felt his heart seize up. He had not realized that watchman had been in there and Corvo had very nearly cursed aloud before catching himself. Perhaps he was rustier than he'd thought.

Daud Transversed right behind the guard as he leaned against the railing and peered down at the street below. Luckily, the watchman was facing towards the Slaughterhouse and not where the two men had been crouching; otherwise, they would have been seen for certain. A quick arm squeezing around the man's throat and then Daud was gently lowering the man to the metal catwalk. Corvo carefully crawled over the other railing and slipped inside the building while Daud dragged the now knocked out guard behind some large bits of machinery on the roof.

Corvo mentally shook himself. He had to focus if he was going to be of any use. Corvo might be out of practice, but he spent years learning how to do this sort of thing -it should not be that hard to find his bearings again.

Despite Corvo's mental self-assurances, Daud gave him a few questioning looks as they made their way down the street to the Slaughterhouse. They perched on a roof and watched as a worker was turned away by the Watch that was posted outside. Corvo had to admit he was a bit annoyed to see the City Watch acting as security guards for a Slaughterhouse when they should be trying to keep order and contain the plague. But clearly, Burrows had different priorities. Like keeping the wealthy in Dunwall happy with him.

"You're keeping up well," Daud said as they studied the layout of the area below and the wandering of the few people by the wall of light. Corvo looked over at Daud questioningly because really. Corvo knew he was probably slowing Daud and Billie down. "Considering your injuries and not having done this in over ten years, yes, you're doing well," Daud insisted.

Corvo harrumphed at that and spotted a balcony across the street that looked like it would provide an easy way over the wall. "Path of least resistance over there," Corvo said. Corvo disappeared in a flash of light before Daud could say anything in response.

The room he reappeared in was... unexpected. To say the least.

The room was like a ruin with peeling paint, vines growing all over about half of it, minimal intact furniture, and ragged area rugs dropped at careless angles and overlapping across the warped floorboards. Red lines and symbols were drawn on the floor. Corvo wasn't sure if it was blood or paint and he really didn't want to know for sure. Ignorance being bliss and all that.

As Corvo carefully moved around the room to examine a still burning stove with a pot of something foul smelling bubbling away on top, Daud appeared in the open doorway. Daud glanced around the apartment before stepping in -being just as careful as Corvo to not tread on the red lines all over the place.

Corvo spotted a paper and picked it up. "The port side eye of whale, newly dead. Plop it in the pot, grisly and red. Weeper, Weeper, weeps no more. Laid to rest on blood-etched floor. Do this for me dearie, and I'll give you a birthday treat. Granny," Corvo read aloud.

"Granny Rags," Daud said as his eyes swept across the room again. "Do you remember her?"

"Vaguely. I remember being told to stay away from her," Corvo said putting the note back where he found it.

"Isn't she over a hundred years old?" Billie asked from where she was suddenly standing on the balcony. Bits of darkness faded away from the edges of her body as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Those are the rumors," Daud said simply. Daud glanced around the room one last time before tilting his head to the side. "Let's go. Should never mess with a witch. Or any random rituals they leave sitting out."

Corvo glanced at the pot and note before following the other two out across the rooftops to enter the yard of the Slaughterhouse. Billie told Daud about some guy in a boat nearby, and he went off to go investigate while Corvo checked to see if he could find a secondary way into the building -neither objective took very long.

The announcements from the speakers came to life periodically. Corvo wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that one of those announcements was a public warning about himself and how he'd escaped Coldridge. They were acting as if Corvo was some crazed mass killer or something. Corvo put that out of his mind and focused instead on his search, pocketing a few bits of coins and valuables as he swept through the yard.

Corvo figured that going through the drains beneath the factory where blood and guts left was by far the least appealing way into or out of the place, not to mention the Arc Pylon they'd put on the dock above it for some bizarre reason. The next obvious entryway was on the entire opposite side of the building, but they had barely secured it. The cargo doors above the docks were easy enough to get to, although they had to knock out a few of the whale butchers that were wandering around. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to get the chain that they climbed far enough over to be of any use.

The smell of the Slaughterhouse was like a wall the moment they entered, and Corvo fought the urge to react in some way. He had smelled rot, blood, and gore before. Not even that long ago, honestly, but the strength of it in this place was to another level. The heat emanating from the machinery and radiating from the metal roof under the sunlight truly didn't help anything. That made the gore fester and stink even worse. Even this far away from where the butchering happened it was intense. Corvo had never liked Slaughterhouses, but Rothwild's was an entirely different league in terms of unpleasantness. Did he ever wash out anything? Corvo didn't know if hosing down the killing floor would help but certainly wouldn't hurt.

Billie formed from nothing just a few feet away crouched low. "Rothwild’s got a stubborn reputation. I doubt asking nicely is going to work. We'll have to find a more persuasive means of getting what we want. He should be near his office. We should check there," Billie said.

"Scout around, see what you can find," Daud said.

Billie nodded and disappeared again. "If Emily is here... you stay back. She'll no doubt remember you," Corvo said as they started through the slaughterhouse in search of Rothwild.

"I have no intention of doing something that'll make her more frightened of me, Corvo," Daud said.

Corvo narrowed his eyes a bit but focused on getting through the building. They had to drop down several levels to make it out of the warehouse, and they passed by several suspicious looking crates bound for Tyvia. One even had air holes in it so that if say, a person-sized living thing was trapped inside they wouldn't suffocate.

As they passed through different areas, Corvo noticed quite a few butchers still milling about. Several were toting giant saws powered by whale oil that was probably used for chopping through the unfortunate animals. "Those saws give them armor in the front... and a glowing weakness in the back," Corvo murmured as he and Daud stayed up high where they wouldn't be spotted.

"Best to not tangle with them at all," Daud replied. "We both have quite enough scars, I think."

Corvo didn't argue with that, and the two men found an easy way to the killing floor proper and then going up as high as they could. From their vantage point, they could make out what was most likely the administrative area and therefore the office. Billie was suddenly there beside them. "There looks to be a makeshift interrogation room in a meat locker. Might come in handy considering why we're here." Corvo couldn't quite help the shiver that went through him at the mention of an interrogation room, but he pushed that down ruthlessly. Whatever it took to get Emily safe.

When they found their way into the office, Rothwild was arguing with some woman. Corvo was not by any means interested in whatever melodrama was going on. He just wanted to find Emily. So, from his perch up above, he sleep darted them both. Corvo was glad he had thought to stock up on them, so he didn't feel in the least bit sorry for not saving them. "We could have gotten more information from them," Billie complained as she appeared between the two snoring bodies.

"The only information I care about is where Emily is," Corvo said as he dropped down. "And I doubt some random industrial worker is going to know that," he added gesturing to the woman wearing bloodied laborer clothes he'd darted.

"No point in arguing about it now," Daud said as he hefted Bundry Rothwild onto his shoulder. "Billie, where's this meat locker?"

Chapter Text

Bundry was a heavy sonofabitch. Corvo was glad to let Daud carry him to the meat locker. Daud groaned a little as he dropped Bundry into the chair and then straightened. Corvo didn't bother comment on the crackle of Daud's joints that he heard and just fastened the Slaughterhouse owner down in his own torture chair. Corvo was trying his best to not look at it too closely. His poorly healed fingers were already trembling as he could almost swear he heard his own screams ringing in his ears.

Corvo was distantly aware of Billie saying that she'd be nearby waiting. He wasn't too surprised. Billie wasn't the sort for this particular brand of wetwork. She had always been infiltration and espionage before.

"You don't have to be here for this," Daud said as Corvo tightened one strap roughly.

"I've got it," Corvo said before straightening. "They only electrocuted me a few times," he added. They hadn't ever been very good with the controls of that machine and always sent Corvo to unconsciousness as soon as they tried to use it. Corvo hadn't been about to tell them there was a second dial to control the voltage as that would only help them torture him better. He was just glad that they hadn't killed him with their utter lack of familiarity with new technology.

He almost physically felt Daud stiffen beside him but ignored it. Corvo curled his slightly twisted fingers into a fist and slammed it hard into Bundry's square jaw. Bundry groaned slightly, and Corvo grabbed him by the chin. "Wake up, Rothwild. We have some questions for you."

Bundry blinked a few times and then furrowed his brow. "What the-" Rothwild seemed to realize then where he was and jerked, but Corvo had made certain that the straps were brutally tight. Corvo's fingers dug in deeper. Daud put a hand on Corvo's arm.

"He can't talk if you crush his jaw," Daud pointed out.

Corvo had to almost force himself to loosen his grip and stepped back. He folded his arms over his chest and tried to regain that stoicism he was so well known for, but it was escaping him. He was aware he was probably much too close to this -evident by how he felt cold sweat at the back of his neck and heard the sizzle of flesh in his ears- but he wasn't going to let Daud handle things either. This was too important. So what if he had dark spots at the corner of his vision? Corvo had dealt with worse than feeling like he was falling and standing at the same time.

"I want to know about the Delilah," Daud said, stepping forward to draw Bundry's attention.

"Go stick it in a grinder if you can find the hole!" Bundry snarled. The blood staining his teeth made him look even more feral than just his twisted up expression.

"That wasn't very polite," Corvo said in what he thought was a fairly decent mimicry of one of Emily's stricter tutors. Corvo casually flipped the switch on the machine. The electricity lit up the room, and Corvo had to fight the immediate visceral reaction to Bundry's body convulsing. He did quickly pull the lever back, though. Sweat was following the dip of his spine and the puckered scars across his skin, and he was obnoxiously aware of it. He put his free hand behind his back so the tremors there wouldn't be as noticeable.

Bundry groaned a bit and shook his head. "You think I'm just going to break that easy?" he asked before spitting some blood onto the already stained floor. "Please. You don't know who you're dealing with."

"I wouldn't test him if I were you," Daud said.

"Oh no. Please, test me," Corvo said.

Rothwild scoffed. "I'm not afraid of you, choffer."

"That's your mistake. But if you answer our questions, you won't have to find out how much of one," Daud said. "The Delilah."

Bundry just cursed at them, so Corvo flipped the switch. "Gah! Fuck!" Corvo turned the electricity off. His mind was threatening to throw him back into that place with every second, so he didn't have time to play coy with the bastard. Corvo stepped away from the machine and grabbed Rothwild by the chin. Some of Bundry's muscles were still twitching, but he didn't seem to be able to control it. Not surprising. After the first time, Corvo had been electrocuted, he'd had a strange muscle twitch in his shoulder for hours following. Corvo forced Bundry to look at him. His eyes were a bit hazy from pain, but then they cleared. "W-wait... you-you're Corvo Attano!"

"You think you're tough because you have this chair?" Corvo asked. He should probably be more concerned that someone could now report what he was up to, but he wasn't. He almost relished the idea of those traitors knowing he was hunting for them. "This is child's play compared to what I can do to you."

"Corvo-"

"Shut up," Corvo said without looking away from Bundry. "You had best tell me everything."

Rothwild seemed to have recovered from the shock of realizing who Corvo was. "Fuck off, murderer."

Corvo felt something deep inside him shift. His sword plunged straight down into Rothwild's hand, pinning him to the seat. The man screamed only for it to be cut off by Corvo's fist slamming into the side of his mouth he hadn't already hit.

Daud was suddenly pulling him away. "Corvo!"

Corvo managed one last kick to Rothwild's knee, making the other man howl like a wounded dog before Daud had dragged him too far away. "Corvo! Killing him won't get us anywhere!" Daud snapped. "Get it together or go outside!"

Bundry was moaning in pain as his blood dripped to the ground, but Corvo forced his eyes to Daud instead. His eyes were intensely focused on Corvo, and his hands hadn't loosened their grip. "I'm fine," Corvo said, pulling free.

"You're not," Daud said. "I shouldn't have let you come on this."

"You couldn't have stopped me."

Daud didn't bother to comment on that and turned back to Rothwild. "I told you that it was a mistake to test him," he said rather mildly before pulling Corvo's sword free. He notably did not return it to Corvo, though, and instead, put it on a nearby counter. Rothwild blinked a few times but still looked defiant. Corvo forced himself to stay back, but his anger was starting to boil.

"You fuckin' bastards."

"We have reason to believe you know where Emily Kaldwin is," Daud said as he rested his hand casually on the lever that controlled the electricity.

Bundry blinked and then spat more blood out. "Emily Kaldwin? Why the fuck would I know anything about that brat?"

Corvo took a step, but Daud gave him a warning glance before turning it to Rothwild. "I'd watch it before you aggravate him too much. There's only so many times I'm going to stop him from killing you."

Bundry growled out something obnoxious and defiant, but Corvo's attention was caught by a whisper in an achingly familiar voice. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Outsider's twisted gift. Jessamine whispered, and Corvo turned his eyes back to Rothwild. It would be cruel to bring those dark words to light. Cruel but effective. Daud asked something, and Bundry spat an answer earning him another shock from the chair. Corvo felt himself twitch. The words being said were still hazy, and Corvo found he didn't give two shits about how 'cruel' something was. Why should he?

Putting the Heart away, Corvo stepped forward and pushed Daud to the side to lean down over Rothwild. He grabbed hold of Bundry's shoulder tightly to make sure he had the man's full attention. "Bundry. Tell me or else history might repeat itself."

Rothwild frowned slightly. "W-wha-"

"Oh, come now. You remember. You can't not remember. You saw them carry her body out of the factory. Sliced into such tiny, messy little bits. You weren't supposed to see, but you were always hanging around. Being where you shouldn't. So, when she fell into the machine, you could hear the screams. They couldn't even figure out if they'd got her all out of the gears, could they?"

Bundry's face had gone white despite what seemed to be a permanent work and drink manufactured ruddiness. Corvo leaned closer. "You know how many machines you have here, Bundry. And what they do. How many pieces do they think they'll find of you? More or less than the eighty-three bits of your mother?"

"Y-y-you... how do you know that?"

"Talk, Bundry. Or they'll never clean you out of this scummy Slaughterhouse."

"I don't know shit about the Kaldwin girl," Rothwild said. "I don't know who told you I do, but they're fuckin' lying!"

Corvo eyed him carefully, and that, combined with Jessamine's whisper in his mind, told him that Rothwild was telling the truth. Corvo scoffed and straightened. "A waste of time," he muttered as he went to leave. Daud was staring at him like he'd grown three heads, but Corvo couldn't be bothered to care.

Corvo passed by Billie and made for the closest exit. There was a whale on the killing floor, moaning in pain and leaking its insides all over the place. That cry was haunting, and Corvo was already feeling nauseous. Putting the poor thing out of its misery was the only plus to coming to this horror show. When the electricity ran through the whale, it caused Corvo to flinch. Every one of his nerves felt raw, and his mind mixed up. So, he couldn't even really understand his own motives behind picking up the large eye that had been sagging half out of the whale's socket. He had just been walking to the end of the catwalk beside the now dead whale and saw the eye there. It had been staring at him with its eye too glassy and distant. He hadn't liked seeing it, so he'd taken it out.

Shaking his head, Corvo knew he needed some fresh air. The smell of blood and death combined with his own screams in his mind and the phantom pains aching throughout his body and was not a good situation for him right now. Even Corvo could tell that much. He didn't particularly care about the gore anymore. It oddly matched his own mental state. On his way out, he spotted some large runes in the bloody mess beneath the whale and plucked them up out of some instinct. He'd found a few more during this trip as well as some charms that he'd also pocketed. He would need the boosts to save Emily.

Halfway out of the sewers, Corvo suddenly remembers the blasted Arc Pylon that was above the pipe on the dock. He hadn't turned the thing off, so it would definitely kill him if he tried to leave that way. With a vile curse, Corvo turned and made his way back to the original entrance. He was beginning to suffocate. If he didn't get out of the stifling Slaughterhouse he was positive he would drown. The air was that blood-soaked.

A breathy chime-like noise that was becoming ever more familiar called to him on his way out, and Corvo found another rune beside some worker that had hidden away in the rafters. Corvo was sure as if he should have some sort of reaction to seeing the man lying there dead, but nothing seemed to register. Jessamine's voice whispered in the back of his mind, but it wasn't soothing.

Still, he managed to get out into fresh air and took a moment to just breathe. It helped clear his head and bring him back to what he was supposed to be doing. He didn't really know what had come over him in that freezer. Corvo just knew that he didn't particularly care how badly he'd scared or hurt Bundry Rothwild so long as he got the information he needed. He still didn't care.

The door behind him opened, and Daud stepped out. "What in the Void was that?!" he demanded.

"It was getting answers," Corvo said.

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about Rothwild? What was all that about his mother?" Daud pressed. Corvo wasn't sure how to answer that, so he didn't. Daud waited, but Corvo had no intention of breaking his silence. After what felt like an eternity, Daud shook his head. "I shouldn't have let you come. This was a bad idea."

Corvo glanced over to Daud. "You couldn't have stopped me unless you killed me. Speaking of. What did you do with Bundry?"

"He's patched up and packed up for Tyvia. Should take him months to get back... longer considering I doubt people will be rushing to return after the plague is taken care of," Daud said. "Whenever that is."

Corvo raised an eyebrow. "You didn't just kill him?"

"There was no reason to."

"There was no reason not to," Corvo countered.

Daud was quiet for several long moments. "... I've sworn off killing. After all the damage I caused... I can't do it anymore."

Corvo felt something in him seize up tight. He didn't think he could have that sort of a conversation with Daud. Not so soon after everything that happened. "Too bad you didn't think of it a few deaths earlier," Corvo said before jumping off the ledge to grab hold of the chain and start climbing down.

Daud didn't follow, but Corvo was fine with that. He still didn't feel entirely grounded after whatever mental state he'd fallen into in the makeshift interrogation room. He'd just... snapped didn't seem the right word. Because it wasn't a sudden break of temper, but he wasn't sure what else to call it either.

He still had to make his way back to the end of Slaughterhouse Row, but Corvo wasn't in a rush. A quick glance told him that Daud had disappeared from the ledge they'd been perched on. Corvo figured he should stay away from Daud for the moment. Let everything that happened in that room settle and fade off.

Corvo stopped moving and took another few breaths. There was some nearby shouting and laughter from some butchers that they'd bypassed earlier. Corvo wasn't concerned they would spot him, though. Most people never looked up.

Still, it was foolish to just linger, and so Corvo went to leave. As he did, he spotted a corpse tucked away under a set of stairs. The bloodstains on the man's cheeks made it clear what the man had died from. Unfortunate but Corvo still didn't feel quite the pang of sympathy he felt he should have. It was there. Just... less so than it had been before Coldridge.

A nonsensical little poem came back to him, and Corvo thought for a moment. He probably shouldn't. He had no idea what would happen, and Daud himself had said it would be foolish. Corvo felt a spike of annoyance at himself. What the hell did he care what Daud had to say?

Still, Corvo found himself hesitating. He didn't feel that he should blindly run to do something he didn't understand. Corvo knew enough about the occult to be wary of that sort of thing. Corvo pulled out the Heart and cradled it close. "Jess..."

The Heart throbbed. When the tears started, his wife locked him out. He did not want to be alone at the end... but nobody would stay with him.

Corvo felt a little bit of that rock that refused to move crumble, but he still couldn't bring himself to soften much. Corvo tucked the Heart away and Blinked down to where the Weeper was curled up. He still wasn't entirely sure what the poem meant, but it promised something, and a gift from a witch seemed like it would be helpful. And Corvo was willing to do whatever it took to get Emily safe.

Heaving the Weeper over his shoulder, Corvo blinked his way back to the occult apartment. It only took a few moments to drop the whale eye in the pot and the Weeper in the circle. The 'gift' ended up being a rune. Corvo picked it up, and the whalebone turned to ash.

Power raced up Corvo's arm and then rippled out. The shadows in all the corners of the room twisted and boiled. There was a supernatural shriek, and then the room was filling with a horde of rats that quickly devoured the remains of the Weeper. Their black eyes glittered, and tiny bodies squirmed to each find the best spot they could, and then they scattered again.

Corvo stared as the shadows returned to normal. He hadn't expected that, and yet... he was oddly not surprised. Brutal and bloody and fast. Like so much else in this city. Corvo looked down at his hand with the Mark and then at the body again. It was stripped to the bone in most places. He probably shouldn't have done that.

Corvo glanced around the room and shook his head. He needed to get going before he got left behind or caused Daud and Billie to come looking for him. He was about to Blink to a nearby rooftop when he spotted Daud jumping down into an alley. Just barely, Corvo could hear odd discordant noise that sent shivers down his spine.

Without really waiting to think about it, Corvo Blinked over and peered down. Daud sneaking up behind an Overseer with an occult music box on his. Billie was on the ground looking to be dazed or in pain as another Overseer was rambling off questions. Daud launched a sleep dart just before wrapping his arm around the Overseer with the music box. Corvo barely thought before pulling his crossbow and firing a bolt through the neck of the remaining man.

Daud dropped his Overseer only a moment later. Corvo Blinked down since he didn't feel up to jumping. He reappeared as Billie was getting to her feet. Daud looked over at Corvo. "You could have used a sleep dart," he said unhappily.

"You could have killed them all before they knew you were there. And you're welcome," Corvo said.

Billie looked between the two of them. "Either way, thank you both. You can argue about methods later. We should get out of here. I'm worried they sent for the Hounds." And with that, she disappeared in a cloud of smoke and shadows. Daud and Corvo exchanged glances before following. There wasn't much left to do here anyhow.

Chapter Text

Corvo was sitting in the window of his rundown temporary lodgings, fingering a blade. He was frustrated. Perhaps it had been a bit too optimistic of him, but Corvo had anticipated having his girl with him by this point. Instead, Bundry had no idea about anything involving what happened to Jessamine or Emily. Corvo didn't have much hope that Barrister Timish, who had named the ship Delilah before Bundry bought it, had any further information.

The krusts down below gurgled in the flood. Corvo eyed the mollusk and drew out his crossbow. His aim wasn't as steady as he'd like, but Corvo did his best to line up the guides with the stalk of the krust. It took a frustrating three shots to finally hit the stem. The krust wailed in that inhuman, ear-bleeding way before falling over from its own weight. Corvo watched the oily bile spread out across the surface of the murky water and shifted his crossbow to the next in the line. That angle was a bit harder to hit, and Corvo shattered several bolts against the bricks before managing to kill the krust.

"You alright, Corvo?" A familiar voice asked from just outside the window.

Corvo didn't bother looking to the side where Quinn was sitting on a broken bit of balcony. The fact it hadn't given up entirely under Quinn's weight was surprising, but then Whalers often found precarious perches that they probably shouldn't be able to sit on. Corvo ignored Quinn's question and moved his hand to shoot the third krust in the cluster.

"... right," Quinn said. "I heard the slaughterhouse didn't turn out so good."

"It was a waste of time," Corvo said as he fired off another bolt. It splashed into the water just in front of the krust.

"It was the only lead we had," Quinn reasoned. "It wouldn't have been smart to ignore it. And now we know about Barrister Timish, who might actually know something useful."

Corvo couldn't help but scoff. Unlike Bundry, he'd met Timish as the Royal Protector. "Barrister Timish is a sniveling, greedy man with few higher ambitions. He wouldn't be involved in this."

"How can you be so sure?" Quinn asked.

The third krust crackled as its stem gave out and shrieked as it died. "I know the members of the court. Most of them, anyway. I doubt Timish is upset about the Lord Regent but he's not bold enough to outright support the bastard in a coup."

"Well, we don't have any other leads, Corvo," Quinn said. "We've already checked the homes of the Lords Pendleton, who we last saw with Emily. She wasn't there."

"Where are the Pendletons then?" Corvo asked.

"In hiding somewhere. Haven't managed to dig up where just yet. Their little brother is still skulking around, but everyone knows how little he and his brothers get along," Quinn said. "It's unlikely he'd have any clue." Corvo hated that Quinn was probably right.

Corvo folded the arms of his crossbow down before hanging it off his belt. The sun was nearly set, and a lot could be achieved under the cover of night. Corvo stepped over to the shaky table and gathered up some of the supplies he'd scrounged up while he was out at the slaughterhouse with Daud and from around the flooded district.

"Corvo?" Quinn asked. He'd moved down to crouch in the window that the ex-Lord Protector had abandoned. "What is it?"

Corvo stared at his crooked fingers and discolored nails, which he was still worried were covering an infection of some sort. He pushed his discomfort to the side and continued to gather up his things, making sure to get plenty of razor traps and bolts of various types. "I have my own lead."

"Your own lead?" Quinn echoed. "What are you talking about?"

Corvo put extra bullets for his pistol in his belt, even though he hated firing guns usually. "Just what it sounds like." He knew, without a doubt, that Burrows and Campbell were behind the murderous plot. And, though Burrows wasn't easy to reach, Campbell was always in the same place. Campbell would be well guarded by his Overseers, but Corvo wasn't deterred by that in the slightest.

Quinn caught Corvo by the arm. "Corvo. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'm not letting my Daughter be out there, Outsider knows where, with murderers," Corvo said. He pulled his arm out of Quinn's grip and grabbed a few Elixirs to shove in his belt.

Corvo left the room, ignoring the fact that Quinn was following. "Corvo, think about this for just a second, if they know you're coming for them, then they might hurt Emily."

"They wouldn't dare," Corvo said.

"They dared hire Daud to assassinate the Empress; why wouldn't they dare hurt Emily?" Quinn asked.

"Because they need her to legitimize their rule," Corvo said. True, they would only need her as a figurehead, but they did still need her. They were most likely waiting for the most advantageous moment to reveal that they had miraculously 'rescued' Emily or some other story spun to make them the heroes. The whole thing turned Corvo's stomach, and he wasn't going to let it happen.

When Corvo stepped out of the constantly damp apartments and out onto one of the walkways that sprawled across the flooded streets, he could see the sun in the distance melting the horizon line. Quinn was still following, and Corvo had half a mind to tell his once friend to beat it. "Corvo, where are you going?" Quinn asked again.

"Don't worry about it, Quinn. I can handle myself," Corvo said as he swiftly left the Flooded District.

The bodies piled up were rotting, and the smell made Corvo gag, but it somehow wasn't as bad as the slaughterhouse. Probably because all the stench wasn't confined. Quinn seemed to drop back after that, and Corvo figured he didn't want to get in trouble for leaving without permission or something.

The dumping grounds were just outside of an arc gate, which was annoying. Corvo would have to get around the electricity in order to get into more populated areas of Dunwall. A few guards got in the way and were quickly dealt with. A few more bodies for the piles wouldn't make a huge difference. Plus, some of them had coins on them that Corvo might be able to use to fund his search for Emily.

By the time Corvo reached John Clavering Boulevard, it was nearing eleven-thirty, and it was starting to rain. Corvo had hoped that he would hit right at shift change, but he wasn't going to wait for it either. Some guards were up on the incomplete bridge, dropping bodies onto a barge. Temporary guard shacks were set up as well as another Wall of Light.

But, judging by how the guard post was set up, Corvo had a feeling they'd only blocked the main drag of the boulevard. So, it should be easy enough to bypass the Wall of Light just by going through a couple alleys around Bottle Street. Corvo used to know those back ways better than the main streets, so he should be able to navigate fairly well.

The sound of the city-wide announcement system coming on filled the air. "Attention, Dunwall citizens. This is a special announcement from our honorable Lord Regent." Corvo suppressed his vocal displeasure at that title as he slipped by a guard looking the other way.

Then Burrow's obnoxious voice echoed through the mostly empty streets. "This is the Lord Regent speaking. It is with regret that I announce that my term as Lord Regent has been extended through the Month of Harvest, and potentially beyond. In addition, in this continuing crisis, the Overseers of the Abbey of the Everyman remain in service to the state and are empowered to enforce order whenever and wherever necessary. We owe our thanks to High Overseer Campbell for the generous loan of their services."

Corvo sneered. Thanks. Campbell was owed plenty of things, but thanks was definitely not one of them. And he was going to get some of what he was owed tonight. Corvo moved along the street in the shadows until he noticed several men pounding on a door. From their appearance, Corvo assumed they were Bottle Street Gang members. Why they were shouting and making a ruckus, Corvo had no idea. Nor did he particularly care. "Let us in, Granny!"

"I bet she can't even hear us."

"She's blind, not deaf."

He was about to just bypass the whole situation when he heard the chiming noise of a rune. "She's not stupid either," one of the Bottlestreet boys said when the first tried a piss poor lie to get through the door.

It took a moment for Corvo to pinpoint it coming from behind the nearby row of houses. A lot of these properties had little private courtyards behind them, Corvo knew. The only way to really get to them was through one of those houses. Unfortunately, the plague had left all the houses in this area boarded up.

... except the one that the Bottle Boys were beating on the door of.

A quick glance gave him an alternative way inside that house. The second floor had a small balcony, and the doors were wide open. Well within range of a blink.

There was very oddly a boat in the room. Or part of one, anyway. Corvo heard a woman rambling about where knives went in a place setting on the floor below while the men pounded on the door. Corvo used every bit of his training to find the quietest path down the creaky old stairs as was possible. The Bottle Street thugs had said that this Granny was blind, so that would definitely help Corvo get in and out without being noticed.

On the main level, where there was what remained of a kitchen, Corvo saw an elderly lady at a sink that Corvo wasn't entirely certain worked. She was muttering to herself and had on clothes that had once been fashionable and expensive. The outfit had been chewed on by moths or rodents and was heavily stained. Corvo slipped by and opened the heavy metal door out to the courtyard. He was glad it didn't creak too badly and that the woman didn't seem to notice what noise it did make.

The courtyard turned out to be more of an alley than a true garden and had quite a bit of trash shoved into it, including another boat. Corvo rounded the corner and saw a strange shrine with lanterns and purple drapery. Sitting on the small shelf was a large whalebone emitting darkness and that bizarre, otherworldly noise.

Corvo grabbed it, and suddenly the world went black. His heart nearly stopped, and then the Outsider was there hovering in front of him. "Be careful, Corvo. They call her Granny Rags." That name. The one that had left the strange recipe in the apartment on Slaughterhouse Row.

"You wouldn't recognize her real name or even the name of her family, but an Emperor begged for her hand once, and rich young men fought each other for her favor. I watched her consider them all, measure their worth, and find them wanting. Then she made a different choice."

Corvo tried to glance over his shoulder at the way he'd come, but all that was there was inky darkness. The Outsider didn't appear to be done. "You're on your way to face the High Overseer, the leader of a great cult dedicated to loathing me. What will you do, I wonder?"

And then suddenly, Corvo was standing there in the alley again as if nothing had even happened. "What was the point of that?" he grumbled as he forced his heart to slow down. He was really seeing why Daud called the God a bastard if he routinely dropped by to be ponderous and nothing else. But at least Corvo got a rune out of this. The additional power burned his veins but didn't seem to be enough to unlock anything like that flood of rats from before.

Corvo went back around the corner. He would sneak out and continue on his way. He took a moment to peer through the keyhole and didn't spot Granny Rags anywhere. Since she was blind, Corvo was confident that he could slip out just as easily as he'd gotten in.

He opened the door and started for the stairs. He was just about there when suddenly Granny Rags stepped out from the entrance hall. Her milky eyes seemed fixed on Corvo, but he'd been quiet, so that had to be a coincidence. "Dear?" Corvo felt his heart pound again. She had to just be talking to herself again. "Is that you, my dear husband?" Granny reached out, and Corvo shifted back to avoid her gnarled hand touching him. He'd never been fond of touching but was even less so now.

Granny sighed, and Corvo eyed the path up the stairs. If he could just sneak past... "My eyes aren't what they used to be," Granny said. And yet she looked right at Corvo again. Was she blind or not!? "Have you seen my little birdies? The dear things must be starving without their granny. Here, birdies!" She clucked her tongue as if calling for small animals, but there were definitely no birds around.

The Bottle Street Boys outside pounded again on the door, demanding that she come out. "Oh, my my my. I think I have gentleman callers again, but not the way I used to, not the nice ones. I hear them, and they're not very polite ones either. Granny Rags, Granny Rags, let us in. Ah well, they'll go away again if they know what's good for them, but what a bother."

Granny Rags reached into a pocket of her jacket and pulled out a thick brass key. She held it out to Corvo. "Here's the key to the front door, love. You'll see to those ruffians, won't you?" She nearly pushed the key to Corvo's chest, and he took it rather than having her physically touch him.

Corvo backed away as Granny Rags passed him in the far too narrow hall to get to the sink again. The Outsider's words came back to him. Be careful. And though she had phrased what she said as a request, something about the tone and the way she'd fixed those blind eyes on him made Corvo think it wasn't one at all.

Corvo looked over at the old woman. Well, three thugs wasn't a hard situation to deal with, and the Bottle Street Gang was responsible for all sorts of crime in the area. It wouldn't be much of a loss if Corvo took a minute to deal with them. Walking out the front door to greet them seemed particularly stupid, though.

Corvo went back to the balcony and used his blink to get onto a nearby scaffold that crossed the street. He leaned down and took a closer look at the thugs. About what he expected. Big and stupid looking with the reddened face of men bolstered with liquid courage. A quick glance told Corvo that nobody else was in the area, so he pulled his crossbow out.

His hand still shook as he aimed, but the men were large and relatively close targets. The first bolt went straight into the head of the one furthest back. The noise instantly had his friends turning and drawing weapons, but Corvo was already aiming for the next. A bolt hit that one in the chest, and he went down. The third was starting to shout, and Corvo couldn't allow that. He dropped down and impaled the bastard's head with his blade. His body falling from over a story up crushed several of the thug's bones, but Corvo himself was fine.

He unlocked Granny's door and dragged the bodies inside. There was no reason to leave them in the street to attract any watch that might be around. Once he dropped them in the ruined sitting room, Corvo went through their pockets. They had some coins, but that was it.

Corvo heard Granny complaining about garbage in the kitchen. He went back there to drop off the key because he definitely didn't want to keep that. Granny wasn't looking at him, but he'd barely stepped into the room before she was facing him again with that unsettling blind yet somehow not gaze. "Oh, my dear, I knew you'd help me with those ill-mannered boys. My brave man."

Corvo really wished she'd stop acting like they knew each other and were... involved. It was very uncomfortable on so many different levels. "Listen, Granny has a birthday present for you. I got it from the Outsider, and now I'm giving it to you. Go on. It's upstairs. On the vanity. I think you'll cut a nice figure with it. Remember how we used to dance? Our parties were even grander than those at the Boyle Manor. Everyone wanted to come."

Right, well then. Corvo backed away after dropping the key and then hurried up the stairs. There was no vanity upstairs. But Corvo did find a rune hanging from the overturned boat that hadn't been there before. Corvo picked it up, and there was a sudden sound.

The ex-Lord Protector whipped around to see that somehow, impossibly, Granny Rags was standing behind him. She had just been downstairs! He'd heard her muttering about birdies down there. "I hope you like the little gift I got for you. It's the least I could do for turning those louts away."

Granny crossed her arms and shook her head. "I can't bear these Bottle Street children. Ruffians, every last one of them. Rotten apples. And that Slackjaw is the worst of the lot."

Well, Corvo had to admit she wasn't exactly wrong there. "You know what I just thought of?" Granny continued. Corvo still wasn't sure how aware she was of the world around her. It seemed to fluctuate from second to second. "You could do something else for me—another little favor. And I'd give you another present. Another lovely rune carved from the bones of a dead whale."

Then Granny starting going on about Doctor Galvani and how he was working on the plague. And apparently, her 'little favor' boiled down to putting rat guts in the Bottle Street Gang's elixir still. Corvo had no love for the Bottle Street Gang or Slackjaw, but poisoning them with the plague seemed a bit far. Especially since they probably sold it to desperate citizens like they did with their bootleg booze. Corvo didn't want the plague spreading and wouldn't help it happen. Plus, that would take him out of his way more than he was willing to put up with.

He had the High Overseer to kill, after all. He didn't have time to settle petty gang problems with old ladies that frankly made Corvo's skin crawl. So, Corvo slipped out and resolved to never wander into that house again. Granny Rags didn't look like she'd left that house in a while so hopefully, she would stay put. Of course, that brought into question how that ritual got set up in Slaughterhouse Row, but who knew how long it had been there before Corvo, Daud, and Billy stumbled across it.

Corvo continued on his way and then, after a short block, turned to head back to Clavering. He abruptly stopped when he saw two thugs in front of him. With a huff of annoyance, he used his powers to get up high. Apparently, he didn't need to worry about the watch finding those bodies because there didn't seem to be any watch off of Clavering itself anymore.

Well, Corvo had things to do. He started to find his way through abandoned apartments and roofs when he overheard what exactly was going on. "Let me out! I'm fine!"

"That's not what we heard," the thugs said after laughing.

"It's just a cold."

"Are you sure? Because you know we have to check you over," the first thug said.

"And there's an inspection fee," the second decided to add.

Corvo realized that the two thugs were in front of a boarded-up doorway, and apparently, some poor bastard was trapped inside. "To the Void with Bottle Street and to the Void with you! Let me out!"

"Oh, you don't want to talk to us like that."

"Fact is, Bottle Street is here to take its cut. So reach into your pockets, and let's get this done."

Corvo scowled. As if the plague wasn't making Dunwall hard enough to live in. These scum were just too much. "Yeah! And the inspection fee. We can't help it. Just the way we do things on Bottle Street."

These Bottle Street bastards were really getting on Corvo's last nerve. He pulled out his crossbow again and took aim at the first of them. Suddenly, the air in front of Corvo distorted, and red fabric filled his vision. "Bold of you to appear in front of my loaded crossbow while I'm aiming," Corvo said.

"Aren't you supposed to be better than us?" Daud asked without moving.

"Bottle Street Boys are hardly worth losing sleep over," Corvo said.

"Not saying they are, but you don't have to kill them either."

Corvo glared at the other man. This new moral thing Daud was trying out was starting to get annoying. Why couldn't it have been six months ago when Daud decided killing was beneath him? Why did Jessamine have to die and Emily get kidnapped first?

"Is anyone there?" the man locked in the shop called out as the Bottle Street Boys wandered around, apparently just waiting for the man to give in and pay them.

"How did you even find me?" Corvo asked as he stood up straight.

Daud didn't unfold his arms. "Quinn." Corvo scoffed. He should have realized that immediately. "He was worried about you. Seemed to think you were about to do something reckless."

"I'm finding my daughter," Corvo said. "Timish won't know where she is. Campbell will... or he'll know someone who does. He was part of it. Just as deep as Burrows. He'll have the information I need."

"You can't just go waltzing into Holger Square with the mark of the Outsider on your hand, Corvo!"

"I'm not afraid of Overseers," Corvo said.

"You should be. They have ways of neutralizing our powers and have a particular fondness for killing anyone with a mark on sight. If they don't torture them to death instead. I've lost a lot of my men to them."

Corvo wasn't hearing anything new. "I'm aware. I've worked with Campbell for years, remember. And I'm not about to be taken alive to be tortured again, rest assured of that." He was pleased in a probably unhealthy way as Daud shifted uncomfortably. Daud rarely showed such reactions. "If this has taught me anything, Daud, it's that with these powers... no man is unreachable."

Daud was silent for a moment. "Fine, you probably can reach Campbell. How are you getting out again?"

"I'll find a way."

"You'll find a way," Daud repeated. "Do you see now why Quinn was worried? This is beyond reckless."

Corvo supposed it seemed that way from the outside, but he also knew that he was right. "You can't stop me, Daud. So, go on back to your Flooded District, and worry about getting close to Timish, who won't tell you anything."

"I'm not leaving you to do this alone," Daud said. "There's too much that could go wrong. Too many Overseers."

Corvo studied Daud's stupidly rugged and frustratingly stubborn face. "Don't get in my way then," Corvo said as he stepped around Daud to aim his crossbow again. The Bottle Street Boys were now much more complicated targets since they were wandering. Thank you again, Daud, for ruining a perfect shot through the thug's ear.

Daud held up a gloved hand and put it over the end of the bow. "... you're really looking to get shot with a crossbow today."

"How about we minimize the killing, at least? Use a sleep dart," Daud said.

"I didn't bring any," Corvo said truthfully. He hadn't bothered.

A strange expression crossed Daud's face, and then he pulled out three green darts. "Then take these." Corvo was less than impressed, and Daud could clearly tell. "Please, Corvo. Bottle Street Boys are hardly angels, but you have no personal grudge against them, do you?"

Corvo felt like tearing his hair out. Who was this man in front of him!? Had the years really changed Daud that much? With a huff of annoyance, Corvo snatched the darts away. He didn't care enough to argue with Daud over the lives of some lowlifes.

Two darts later and Corvo let Daud shove the bodies into a dumpster so that rats wouldn't eat them alive should a horde come by. Corvo smashed the wood out of the doorway and let out the old man that was there. A man named Griff who agreed to sell things them things. He was also, apparently, a known informant. Daud paid him a handful of coins, and Griff told them about some Overseer being punished for plotting to get Corvo out of prison.

That was news to Corvo as he was positive that Daud hadn't worked with any Overseers. Perhaps it would be worth asking this man, Martin, what was going on. Because turning an Overseer to their goal would be very valuable in finding Emily.

Chapter Text

Corvo and Daud made their way into the store that Griff had been trapped within. Corvo could hear that wispy chime noise somewhere nearby and went to investigate. Daud was still just behind him. "I assume you didn't collude with any Overseers to get me out of Coldridge," Corvo said as he lifted himself up through a destroyed stairwell to a second floor.

"Of course not. But it's not surprising that we weren't the only ones thinking of breaking you out," Daud said. "Burrows has lots of allies but also enemies. It's why he's been so desperate trying to hire me again. Coups often breed more coups."

Corvo would have responded, but he was distracted by the bodies scattered around the room. A charm on the table was the source of the void music. Corvo picked up the three-pronged charm before sliding the book over to take a look at it. A book about bone charms, fittingly enough. Corvo pocketed the few valuables that hadn't already been cleaned out. Then, the two assassins headed out of the store and up.

The apartment they ended up climbing into was full of sheets. Both over furniture and wrapped around corpses. Three bodies. Two were painfully tiny -no bigger than Emily- the last was adult-sized. A woman was slumped at the table. In front of her, there was what looked like a diary, but Corvo only glanced at it. He didn't think he could take reading the woman's story in detail. The image in front of him was enough. This was what he and Jessamine had been trying to stop. And Burrows killed her. For not wanting to let people die? Corvo clenched his fist and blinked out of the apartment to land across the street on another balcony. He couldn't stay in that one for even a second more.

Daud was right behind him, and it turned out that the apartment was a stash point of some sort, so they refilled their supplies. The quiet between them was tense and awkward. "Are you alright, Corvo?" Daud asked finally as they crossed a roof and paused to take stock of where the nearest eyes were.

Corvo's first instinct was to snap. What could be 'alright' about any of this? But he managed to not do so, mainly because he didn't want to draw any attention to where they were by shouting. "... I hate this. Every part of it," Corvo said finally. "Everything Jess worked for. Everything she achieved is ruined... and the city is dying." Corvo took a moment to compose himself before nodding to the street just diagonally from them. "Another Wall of Light. Bottle Street alleys can get us around this one too."

Daud nodded. "Simple enough. Fools have no idea how to secure areas. You'd think they'd be better at it."

Corvo scoffed. "They should be." What was the point of all the drills and training he'd insisted on if they barely used any of it? Corvo and Daud dropped down to go under Clavering. They didn't get far before they found a dead watch member with three thugs crowding around him, searching his body. Corvo felt his temper starting to build again. He didn't remember being this short-tempered before. In fact, he used to laugh at such silly little squabbles. But as the thugs started arguing over petty cash, he found he couldn't help but grow enraged. There were children dead, and these bastards were rifling through dead watchmen's pockets for five coin each?

They started fighting and even killed one of their own. The one that had been accused of cheating the others made a joke. He had been cheating them. There had been five coins more than he'd said. Murder over pocket change! When they already had a plague to deal with! Children were dying in their mother's arms, and this is what people were doing!? "Corvo..."

Corvo shrugged Daud's hand off his shoulder and clenched his fist. He felt a rush of icy cold power flow out of his body. A horde of rats appeared from the shadows and raced towards the surviving gangsters. They screamed as the swarm set upon them, but even when one tried to set them on fire, it wasn't enough. "Corvo!"

Daud pulled Corvo around the corner again as the rats noisily devoured the bastards. "Where the hell did you get a power like that?" Daud asked, eyes wide.

"Where do you think? Where could I have possibly gotten it, Daud?" Corvo asked back. Might as well ask the Outsider why his eyes were black. "Why do you care anyway? They're murderous scum."

Daud gave Corvo a rough shake. "What has gotten into you?" he demanded. "You think this is what Jessamine would have wanted you to do to get Emily back?"

Corvo narrowed his eyes. "Don't act like you knew anything about her!" he snapped. "There are innocent families being wiped out by the plague and pieces of hound shit like them are out here killing watch officers and then each other for change!"

"You know exactly why that is, Corvo!" Daud's voice was nearly a growl. "You've run these streets just like me. You know how it works."

"That doesn't mean that's the way it should work," Corvo said. "This plague is tearing the city apart and bastards like them are helping it. The few people we save are just going to be killed by them! Emily is out here somewhere in a plague infested city, without her mother and without me, and I'm supposed to care if a few low lives end up as rat food?"

"You setting a horde of rats on them doesn't help either," Daud said. "Corvo... if you just try and think about it, you know that I'm right. Slaughtering people out of anger is no different than what they do. Even worse, I'd argue, because you're not even getting anything out of it."

"I am getting something out of it," Corvo denied.

"What?"

"Vengeance," Corvo said.

"Vengeance turns you into someone like me. Do you want that? And what did these men even do to you to get that vengeance?" Daud asked. "Killing me? Warranted. Burrows? I can understand entirely. But random street thugs? That's not the people who hurt you."

"They brought it upon themselves," Corvo said as he jerked himself out of Daud's grip and walked across the small courtyard to return to Clavering Boulevard. Daud would have argued further, but by the time he caught up to Corvo, they were far too close to members of the Watch. All they had to do to get to Holger Square was get to the door at the end of the short section of the street. There weren't even that many Watch on patrol. They would have to time their movements right.

However, there was a rune in the nearest guard station that Daud was able to pull out of the gap while the watch officer was occupied. Daud hesitated for a moment before handing it over to Corvo. "Try not to get anything else like those rats..." he murmured.

Corvo made no promises. And even if he wanted to promise, he didn't know if he could choose what he got. The rune dissolved to ash as his fingers closed around it. He felt a rush of power, and his muscles ached. There was a ripple of power all at once, and the guards slowed to a crawl. One had been telling a joke, and his voice sounded like it was coming through water and had dropped frequency. Time had slowed.

Daud and Corvo took the added boon and darted through the guards to reach the door at the end of the street. Just as Corvo reached for the knob, the world seemed to realign, and the guards were again moving as normal. Daud and Corvo exchanged a look before disappearing through the doorway.

As soon as they stepped into Holger Square, they spotted one Overseer without their signature mask on his knees in the stocks while another was standing in front of him. The standing Overseer was taunting the other. "Stepping in could be a risk," Daud said so that only Corvo could hear. "Neither of us are wearing masks."

Corvo wasn't worried as he sneaked up behind the one Overseer. He was going on about skin peeling off and rats, and Corvo had an unpleasant reminder of the way he now bore what was sure to be scars around his ankles and wrists from the manacles he wore in Coldridge. He had started choking the bastard with the intention of letting him live if only to not alert anyone too soon to their presence. But, in an instant, Corvo's sword went up through the Overseer's spine and into his chest before he could fall unconscious. It wasn't entirely intentional, but Corvo wasn't broken up about it either. Corvo could tell he'd been enjoying the threats of torturously slow death he'd been making.

The Overseer gurgled and died, and Corvo carelessly dropped him to the ground. He caught sight of Daud's frown, but at least he didn't protest this time. Martin was staring at them with wide eyes but quickly regained his composure. "Corvo Attano and the Knife... this is a surprise. But a welcome one, unless you're here to kill me," Martin said.

"That depends," Corvo said.

"On?" Martin asked.

"On how helpful you can be," Daud said. He folded his arms across his chest.

"I hear you tried to break me from Coldridge," Corvo said. "Why? We've never met." Corvo would have remembered. Even with the Overseer masks, he made a point of recalling all the Overseers he came into contact with. Probably residue from his youth as a Heretical Whaler.

Martin shook his head as much as the stocks allowed. "No. We never met. But, I am part of a group of people loyal to the crown... to Lady Emily. We thought it much more likely Burrows was behind the assassination of the Empress and not you. We wanted your help to put her on the throne. But you broke out of Coldridge before we could put our plan to break you out fully into motion."

Corvo studied the man kneeling before him. He was nearly impossible to get a good read on from just looking. His words didn't sound like lies, but Corvo wasn't brimming with trust at the moment. He would bring out Jessamine's heart, but... he didn't know if Daud would be able to see it. Corvo didn't want to risk the answer to that question being yes. "How were you planning on finding Lady Emily, then?" Daud asked. "Do you have a lead?"

"Same lead I imagine you're following," Martin said. "High Overseer Campbell is one of the Lord Regent's most powerful supporters. He definitely is part of the conspiracy."

"He is," Corvo confirmed. The bastard had been there at so many interrogations. He taunted and threatened to tell the guards that Corvo preferred men to women, along with other assorted things that would make Corvo's stay in Coldridge even more unpleasant than it already was. Corvo assumed the only reason he hadn't was the opposing rumor that Emily was his daughter being so widespread and believed. As if the two couldn't both be true at the same time...

Jessamine would have been so smug that her idea had seemingly worked... Corvo buried that thought and the pang it brought to his heart. Now wasn't the time to be caught up in his grief again. He had work to do.

Though it looked more like a pained grimace, Martin smiled and said, "Thought so."

Corvo glanced up at the Overseer Offices. "I have several tender mercies to repay Thaddeus for... and in return he'll tell me where Emily is. One way or another."

The Overseer wet his lips. "He won't have to talk."

"What do you mean?" Daud asked as Corvo pulled his attention back down to Martin.

"Campbell has a black book-"

"Isn't that just his list of favorite prostitutes?" Corvo asked. He'd seen glimpses of that book before. Campbell always had it with him, but Corvo hadn't thought much of it. Hadn't had much reason to. Martin blinked. "Don't look so surprised. The man came to the tower reeking of floral perfume far too often to think he abided all that Wanton Flesh talk. Surely, you, of all people, aren't surprised that Thaddeus is a hypocrite." Corvo had known it for ages, but being a hypocrite wasn't unusual enough to ring any alarm bells for treachery.

Martin stared for another moment and then shook his head. "Not in the least. And, the book might have a list like that, but really it's a collection of secrets and blackmail that he's accumulated over the years to keep himself in power. The book is infamous in the Abbey. Everyone wants to get their hands on it for the secrets it contains. I'm positive he'd have put Lady Emily's location in it. If you can get that book, I can decode it and find Emily."

Corvo narrowed his eyes. He still didn't trust Martin. Didn't really trust any Overseer when it came right down to it. But, if he could decode the book, and Emily's location was written in it, then he was useful. "Who all is in this conspiracy you're a part of?" Daud asked.

"That's delicate information."

"And you're in a delicate situation," Corvo said. Martin was still in the stockade, after all. "Tell us who's in charge, at the very least."

Martin's eyes moved between them, seemingly weighing his options. "... very well. Our leader is a Navy man. Admiral Havelock. Well, he was a Navy man before he swore he would never work for an usurper."

"And then Burrows wanted him killed," Daud supplied quietly. "He called Burrows a usurper right in front of a huge crowd, which caused a ruckus, hence Burrows' displeasure."

Corvo inclined his head slightly to show he heard. It wasn't smart of Havelock to blurt out something like that to a crowd. No wonder he'd been marked by Burrows. No doubt he was now laying low and apparently coming up with conspiracies. It would be nice to have some officials' support in getting Emily back and Burrows off the throne. Even if those officials were currently disgraced. Corvo and Emily would desperately need that sort of publicly given support. It wasn't like Daud could step forward and threaten to kill anyone who protested. Well, he could. It would work. But it wasn't the sort of rule that Jessamine would approve of. Or one Corvo wanted for his daughter. In history, those sorts of rulers tended to have bloody, unpleasant ends. Emily's rule was started in blood; he didn't want it to end the same way.

"If I let you out of there... where do I go to find you and bring you the book?" Corvo asked.

"The Hound Pits Pub is where we've set up," Martin said. "While you're inside, I can get in touch with our boatman, Samuel. He can pick you up from the back yard, behind the Overseers Offices, and take you there after you're done with Campbell."

Well, that would conveniently solve the problem of how to get out of Holger Square again once they were done. Daud put a hand to Corvo's arm and tilted his head to the side. Part of Corvo wanted to be contrary, but he would be foolish not to at least listen to whatever Daud had to say. So, he stepped off the platform and into the shadows with Daud, where they wouldn't be overheard. "Conspiracies always turn on each other," Daud said. "I've been hired by enough of them in my time."

"If he can decode the book then he's useful. And Emily will need support," Corvo said.

"We can probably decode it ourselves."

"But not as fast." It probably used some nonsense Abbey scripture book as a cipher or some variation of a known Abbey code. Martin would have several steps up over the codebreakers that the Whalers had in their number.

"It's still a huge risk."

Corvo gave a shrug. He didn't much care about risk. "I will do whatever I have to do and take whatever risks I need to get Emily back. She's all I have left, Daud. The only thing that I care about in this. I can't lose her too. I won't."

Daud's eyes seemed like molten iron in the dim light. After a moment, he nodded. "Alright, Corvo. But I'm going to keep an eye on them. I don't trust them."

"Good," Corvo said. Just because he saw the value in working with the conspirators didn't mean he trusted them. Daud's guilt, he was confident, would ensure Daud wouldn't do or allow anything to hurt Emily, so he would be a valuable layer of added protection.

Corvo went back to Martin and pulled the lever to release the stockade. "Fine. But if you can't deliver on decoding the book, I'll be most unhappy," Corvo said. "And Coldridge gave me plenty of ideas for how to show that displeasure. There are lots of ways to hurt a man."

Martin slowly straightened and then rubbed his wrists. "I can deliver," Martin said. "It feels good to stand up straight. I owe you a drink. A hundred drinks, in fact." He groaned and stretched his arms for a moment. "Now, I'm sure someone like you that can escape a place like Coldridge can handle himself here. Especially with the Knife at his side... One more thing, though. My informants tell me that Campbell is meeting with a watch officer tonight, one Captain Curnow, and is planning to poison him. Could be something you can use to your advantage."

Corvo froze at that news for a moment before Martin took his leave. Corvo wasn't really listening as Martin wished them luck in killing Campbell. Or paying attention to where he went when he scampered off. "Corvo?" Daud asked after a moment. "What is it?"

"... I know Curnow. He's a good man. Not part of all this," Corvo said. He and Geoff had bonded over both being men forced to keep their actual preferences in bed private, the less-than-successful relationships they'd both had in the past, as well as the racism endured from their shared Serkonian ancestry, although Curnow's was less direct. They'd even had a few drunken tumbles during their trip through the isles looking for a cure for the plague. Mostly heavy petting and lonesome cuddling. Although both men knew it wasn't serious, Corvo still considered the Guard Captain a good friend. "He doesn't deserve to be poisoned."

"Then he won't be," Daud said. "It shouldn't take any extra effort to keep him from being killed while we're in there."

Corvo eyed Daud for a moment but then nodded. The two of them started moving again, although Daud took a moment to pull the dead Overseer up out of the line of sight of anyone walking by. Not that there seemed to be a lot of traffic in this area. Then again, it was rather late at night as well. Someone would find the body in the morning.

Corvo and Daud went up and over the fence, and as they did, Corvo heard some nearby overseers talking. "I was just reading in the Archive about the Heretic's Brand. It sounds painful. Have you ever seen the ritual?"

"I've never seen the Heretic's Brand used, no. It's a rare occurrence. But I did spy the face of one so branded. A former member of our order, of course. Out on a retreat, we passed through a fishing town and saw him begging."

"What were his crimes?"

"Who can say? The brand is reserved for an Overseer, or even the High Overseer himself, who violates our codes and must be cast out, permanently. Remember the Seven Strictures and you never need worry about such matters."

Corvo watched the two Overseers wander off and let that tidbit of information churn in his mind. The idea of pompous, arrogant Thaddeus Campbell begging in the streets was definitely appealing. And didn't Daud say something about vengeance turning Corvo into someone like Daud himself? Well, Campbell violated his precious strictures. Corvo knew it for a fact. So… by his own rules, wouldn't that mean he needed to be cast out? That wouldn't be vengeance so much as the natural consequences of his actions… And if Corvo took a bit of delight in leaving him ruined, well, that also seemed like a natural consequence.

"Corvo?" Daud asked softly.

"Nothing," Corvo said as he started moving again. There were plenty of Overseers on patrol, but honestly, not any more than Corvo had been expecting to see. A few less, if anything. Did Campbell not think that Corvo could reach him? Probably not. He was arrogant enough to think his army of religious zealots could protect him from anything. Well, he'd find out just how wrong he was.

Despite the number of Overseers wandering about, it wasn't challenging to slip by them. Corvo and Daud just had to be careful and time their movements properly. Something both had plenty of practice in doing. A few might have caught glimpses of them, probably Daud's obnoxiously red coat, Corvo thought in annoyance, but they were easy enough to avoid with a quick Blink or Transversal.

Unfortunately, because Corvo had only ever been in the main areas of the Abbey and Daud had not set foot anywhere near it, they ended up finding their way into the hound kennels. It was not at all ideal, especially as one Overseer had a dog out with him right there by the door they entered. Both men had to take cover quickly so as to not be seen. "Wrong door," Daud said in the faintest whisper he could.

"Would you prefer the front?" Corvo snapped back.

Daud scowled, but Corvo ignored him. The man and his dog had wandered a little way down the hall, and Corvo could see a separate room or hall just ahead. It was a risk, but going back out into the middle of the courtyard might be almost as bad. So, Corvo darted out and found himself in another hall. He passed by a few cages, one of which had two dead men in it—gruesome but not exactly unexpected.

Further down the hall, there was an Overseer talking to a hound that, apparently, was sick. Corvo waited until the Overseer wandered away from the cage door and then snuck up behind him. A quick motion had Corvo yanking the man's masked face up and his sword slicing through his starched high collar and vulnerable throat beneath.

Corvo dropped the body into a nearby open cage, ignoring Daud, who was again scowling. "You had better not try and scold me for that," Corvo said. "If you start vouching for Overseers next I might scream." They were the people that Daud could absolutely not have any issue with killing, considering how they constantly tried to catch and kill Whalers.

Daud sighed and crouched down beside Corvo, who was digging coins out of the corpse's pockets. "You were never the most violent of my Whalers, Corvo. Nor as Royal Protector. Is it really that strange that I'm worried at how quick you are to kill people?"

Corvo paused and looked at Daud. "You have no clue -not one fucking clue- what they did to me to try and make me confess to your crime. Six months, Daud. Six void-cursed months," he hissed. Though the Royal Interrogator had been the one he most often suffered from, sometimes Campbell tried using his Overseers. They were somehow worse because they preached at him while torturing him. Corvo held up his hand and the still crooked fingers. "You think this is the worst of it? Hardly." He would forever have scars all over his body from the torture they had inflicted on him.

Daud didn't seem to have anything to say about that, so Corvo finished with the body and moved on. Another Overseer met a similar end to the first, although he just got stuffed onto the pipes near the ceiling. He was dead; he wouldn't care how comfortable it was. They then found a door that read 'To Main Hall' beside it.

They came out right across from an ugly bust of some High Overseer, and Corvo had the very real urge to shoot. But Daud moved away, and Corvo reluctantly did as well, although as he did, he swore he spotted a glint of light in that direction.

In the main hall of the Abbey, an Overseer was preaching to a few citizens. Corvo didn't bother listening to the stupidity there. He'd heard enough of that for many lifetimes over. Getting up to the second floor, where Corvo knew the High Overseer's actual office was located, was a bit more troublesome but being able to teleport oneself was very helpful. Even more helpfully, it turned out that all the transom windows above the doors had been left open, probably for airflow, as it was ridiculously stuffy in the halls despite the late hour. Probably, it was even worse for the Overseers, who were covered head to toe.

They ended up getting to the Archive by staying up high where nobody ever seemed to look. When they slipped through the window, Corvo heard one of the Overseers seeming to be talking to himself about his escape from Coldridge. "-But why Corvo? The one man feared throughout the Empire?"

Corvo couldn't quite help the urge to scoff. Really? He was the one man feared throughout the Empire? Here he was beside the man literally called 'the Knife,' and yet Corvo was the one everyone feared? He glanced at Daud, who shook his head. "-skilled as they say," the Overseer continued. "Got through there with half the Watch looking for him. He had help, yes, but how far does it go? The trail leads to Martin, but Martin knows everyone, everywhere."

Corvo and Daud walked by where the man was pontificating over documents. Corvo spotted an Overseer with a key on his belt, looking at a giant portrait of some gaunt-looking ex-High Overseer. Corvo didn't know where the key went, but it was probably a good idea to grab whatever might be useful. He remembered how often such precautions had helped him back when he was a Whaler on jobs. If it was important enough to have on someone's belt, it was probably worth having.

Corvo reached out and grabbed the man, crushing his windpipe with his forearm. The other Overseer started blathering on again. "Not to the flooded district, surely? Or did he?" Corvo glanced at Daud, who looked suddenly on edge. He disappeared in a flurry of ash. Corvo dragged the Overseer, who was weakly struggling back. The one he was choking fell still, just as Corvo could look over and see Daud doing the same to the one that had been musing aloud. Corvo dropped the man he'd been dragging and went to look at the book on the desk. A record of his known movements. From even before he'd been arrested. He frowned and turned the book more to himself even as the other Overseer was dropped unconscious beside him. Corvo flipped back a few pages and saw notes and recordings of who he'd spoken to and visited dating back quite some time. "They'd been watching you," Daud said softly.

"Campbell knew I prefer men," Corvo muttered. "He'd been trying to catch me red handed for years…" The latest 'sightings' in the book were ridiculous and labeled unconfirmed, so at least it didn't look as if they actually had any clue where he might have gone. They seemed to think he'd be hiding in the Estate district based on his 'prior position of authority and privilege' as if they had also forgotten he wasn't born to nobility. Still, Corvo tucked the book into his coat. He wasn't about to leave records of a religious cult stalking him for years behind for them to try and use against him.

A quick search of the Archive revealed many people who had been found guilty of various things and the punishments they received. Everything from their homes being taken to their wages being docked and even interrogations that led to death. A shiver went down Corvo's spine at the thought of that. How many times in that interrogation room had he been sure he was about to die? More than he could comfortably count. But the search also turned up more information about that Heretic Brand that Corvo heard mention of, including where it was kept.

Right beside the Archive was the interrogation room. Corvo jumped down from the transom window and sliced through the one Overseer that was there, using his corpse to break his fall at the same time. Another Overseer was patrolling outside that Daud knocked out. It was so strange working beside a Daud who was taking care to not kill every obstacle that he came across. Corvo hadn't been on many jobs with Daud as a Whaler, but enough that the difference here was jarring. It felt surreal.

There wasn't much in the interrogation room, but Corvo kept well clear of the chair bolted to the center of the floor. His body ached just being near it, and the scars on his back burned. They did, however, find a recording in the observation area. By the sounds of it, they had caught one of Daud's Whalers, and rather than going through torture and interrogation, the Whaler had killed himself with poison. Corvo glanced at a stony-faced Daud. "I won't say anything if you go back and slit their throats," Corvo said lightly.

Daud sighed. "And how will that bring Franco back? It won't. Every Whaler, including Franco and including you, know what we face in this line of work. That's the whole reason the poison exists. So we have our better option." Daud looked back at Corvo. "I told you. I'm done with killing. It will take more than a reminder of something I already knew to change that."

"Alright. Then tell me this," Corvo said, leaning closer. "Should I kill Campbell? Or should I just make sure he can't cause any more damage?" he asked. "Should I spare his life, Daud?"

Daud looked very wary. "My opinion doesn't matter."

"No?" Corvo asked. "I think it does. You were their knife… you killed Jessamine for them. But you've apparently changed. Should I kill them but spare you? What do you think?"

"If you want to kill me then kill me. I won't fight you about it. I more than deserve it," Daud said. "But let me at least finish helping you find Emily first."

Corvo studied Daud's face carefully. "Tell me, Daud. Would you kill Campbell?" he asked, being sure to enunciate each word in the question. He met Daud's eyes and refused to let the gaze drop. He wanted this to be hard. He wanted Daud to fight and agonize but ultimately tell him the truth. Corvo wouldn't stop until he got it.

Daud didn't squirm under the intense gaze, but Corvo hadn't really expected him to. He still knew that Daud would be uncomfortable despite doing his best to not show it. There was a way he held his shoulders. Just a fraction too stiff. Daud was quiet for several agonizingly long moments before sighing. "Now? No… Now I wouldn't…" he finally said. "Back then, without a doubt."

Corvo slowly nodded. "I'm glad she haunts you," he said before finally pushing past where Daud was standing to leave the interrogation room. It turned out the key he'd taken from the Overseer was to the door between the hall and the observation deck. It took Daud several minutes to catch up with Corvo again, but he did just as Corvo walked into the High Overseer's meeting chamber. A room Corvo was very familiar with. He could hear Campbell talking somewhere nearby, probably to Curnow. A bottle of wine with two glasses was set out on the table, and without hesitation, Corvo tossed both glasses to the ground. Daud had said he wouldn't kill Campbell after all. Daud gave him a strange look, but Corvo ignored him and went to grab the rune on the wall that Campbell kept as a trophy. Then he dragged Daud under the table just as the bell on the nearby clock tower began to ring.

It took Campbell a few tries to get into the room, and when he did, he dismissed everyone but Curnow. Daud had to catch Corvo by the arm when Campbell called Jessamine a whore. Once Campbell saw that the wine was spilled, he said something about breaking out the 'real' vintage and took Curnow out of the room. Corvo and Daud followed although they had to be a bit slower about it.

Eventually, they returned to the ugly bust that Corvo had wanted to shoot. Campbell did something with the eye, and a portion of the wall slid up to reveal a secret room. The two men went in, and it wasn't more than a few moments before Campbell distracted Curnow by talking about his own portrait. Corvo stepped in before he could stab Curnow quite literally in the back and choked Campbell to unconsciousness.

Daud hung back in the shadows as Curnow startled and turned around. The watch captain looked even more shocked to see who was standing there. "C-corvo!?"

"Geoff," Corvo replied. "You've been getting into trouble. He was going to kill you."

Geoff still stared for a moment. "I ought to arrest you…" he said.

"But you won't," Corvo said.

Curnow shook his head. "No. I won't. Corvo… what on Earth… what happened?"

"I've been framed for murder," Corvo said. "And now that I'm out of Coldridge I'm going to find Emily and clear my name."

"... but how did you even escape Coldridge? Nobody has ever done that," Curnow said.

"I'm not just anybody," Corvo said. "Now you should go. I'll deal with everything here. And I guess I don't need to mention that you never saw me."

Curnow shook his head. "No. I won't tell anyone." Geoff started to walk off but then paused. "If you need my help… you just have to ask." Corvo nodded but knew he wouldn't be asking Geoff for help if there were other options. Curnow didn't need to get dragged into this any more than he already had been. "Stay safe, Corvo," Geoff said with a gentle hand on Corvo's shoulder.

"You too," Corvo said before Curnow finally left.

Once Geoff was fully out of the secret room, Daud stepped forward again. There was a slight pause, and then he looked down at the High Overseer unconscious at their feet. "You didn't kill Campbell…"

"No. You convinced me I shouldn't," Corvo said. He unsheathed his sword and sliced Campbell's picture out of the frame to take with him. A quick search revealed plenty of other expensive and easily pocketable things. There was also a recording talking about how Burrows had invested in Sokolov's security and that they'd moved Emily, but Campbell visited her frequently. He didn't say where she was, but Corvo didn't like the tone he used about the place. It made him wary. He better have recorded it in his book. Speaking of…

Corvo went over and quickly pulled the book out of Campbell's jacket and then hauled the man over his shoulder. He had to fight the urge to groan at the man's weight. His body was still full of aches and pains, and Campbell was not light. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Daud asked.

"To make sure that Campbell can't do any more damage," Corvo said. Daud seemed concerned but followed anyway as Corvo made his way upstairs yet again. Carrying Campbell did make it quite a bit harder, but Daud easily kept Corvo's way clear.

They got back to the interrogation room, and Corvo fastened the High Overseer to the chair. "Corvo… are you sure about this?" Daud asked. He could probably see Corvo's hands shaking and the sweat forming on his brow.

"Positive," Corvo said as he straightened again.

"Last time we were in a situation like this you nearly lost it," Daud said.

"That was last time," Corvo said. "I'm not looking for information this time. We already have what we need." They had the black book and someone willing to decipher it. Corvo quickly found the brand and grabbed Campbell's head. He adjusted the man's position so he had an easy angle and pressed the iron into the disgusting man's ugly face. Campbell screamed, and his flesh sizzled as the brand ate into his flesh. The smell was horrible and made Corvo nearly vomit, but he managed to swallow the bile back down as he stepped away and dropped the brand to the side.

Campbell was lying unconscious again but now permanently branded across his face as precisely what he was. A heretic. Corvo stared at him for a few minutes, and the burn across his own jaw stung and his back was knot upon knot of pain. As he turned, he saw Daud staring at him. "You were right," Corvo said. "Killing him wasn't the right move," he said.

"Corvo-"

"Let's go," Corvo said as he left the room.

Daud didn't catch up with him right away. Corvo was halfway down the hall when he did. When he reached the same spot, he grabbed Corvo's arm roughly and yanked him back. "Corvo!"

"What Daud?" Corvo snapped. "I did what you wanted. I spared someone. Isn't this better? Now he gets to live out the rest of his life like an animal on the street. Where nobody will help him even if they might want to because the Abbey won't even allow them to. The fact that these streets are dangerous and full of plague? Well that's just his and his friend's fault, now isn't it? I hope he suffers just like everyone else in this city suffered and is still suffering!"

"Corvo!"

"Do not tell me you feel sorry for someone like him!" Corvo pointed back in the direction of the interrogation room. "Don't you dare! That man… that piece of shit, he…"

"Corvo… I don't care about Campbell. I care about you," Daud said. "I care how doing things like this will affect you."

"Well, you shouldn't care," Corvo spat. "You gave up any right you had to care about me years ago."

"Maybe," Daud said, still sounding frustratingly calm. "But if you're not going to care for yourself… someone has to do it for you. And you don't have anyone else. That's my fault. I know it is… but that's why I have to step up now."

Frustrated, Corvo yanked his arm out of Daud's grip and clenched his fist. In a flash of blue light, he was outside on the ledge of the building, rain lightly falling on his head. He took a moment to regain his composure. However, he wasn't sure he managed it well enough, and then started walking outside the building. He could get to the backyard easily enough, he was sure. Then he'd just have to find that boat Martin had promised him. Eventually, Daud again caught up with him, and Corvo suppressed his annoyance. The man was certainly keeping close to him. Like a worried lover -which he certainly wasn't.

It took some doing to get around to the backyard but Corvo and Daud eventually managed it without being spotted. Corvo gestured for Daud to go in first, which he did. Corvo had half a mind to shut the door and leave but knew he needed that boat so reluctantly went in as well.

Almost immediately, they came across some Overseers threatening to burn some poor woman for being a witch, and her Overseer brother tried to defend her. Corvo was so very done with Overseers persecuting innocent people. His sword cut cleanly through the neck of the first Overseer while Daud choked the other. Once the Overseers trying to burn someone alive were dealt with, the siblings thanked them, and the brother even told them the code for a safe that was apparently in a nearby bunkhouse.

Considering they would have to pass through most of the yard to get to the water, it wasn't like grabbing anything from there would actually take any extra time. They did come across one Overseer begging his fellows to kill him before he turned into a weeper. Corvo and Daud watched from the rafters as they killed the desperate man and then left.

Corvo dropped down after they left. "Surprised they didn't blame him not being faithful enough for him getting the plague…" he mused.

"They surprisingly don't blame the plague on the Outsider," Daud said. "Not yet at least."

"It is surprising considering they blame everything else on him."

Daud inclined his head in agreement, and they quickly stopped by the safe to take whatever was useful inside. There wasn't much, but Corvo wasn't terribly picky. Daud went out through the door first, and Corvo closed the door to the safe. But not without putting a razor mine inside of it first. A nasty surprise for the Overseers later on. Maybe a little indiscriminate, but Corvo couldn't find it in himself to care.

They found a few other valuable things to steal, including the corpse of an Overseer who had apparently thought of hiding himself away with a bone charm. Eventually, they made it to the water and instantly spotted the boat that Martin had been talking about. An old man was there waiting for them. "Mr Corvo, sir, my name's Samuel. I was hired to get you out of here and take you to where the rest of the loyalists are. That is if you don't mind meeting with them. They'd be quite eager to meet with you."

"That's fine," Corvo said.

Then Samuel looked at Daud warily. "Will, uh, will your friend be coming too, Sir?"

"He's not my friend, but yes," Corvo said.

"Alright, Corvo, if you say so," Samuel said before gesturing to enter the boat. "The way I hear it, Campbell lived a pretty posh life. Maybe it's not my place to say but men of the faith should live like barons."

"No. They shouldn't… Nor should they be such raging hypocrites," Corvo said as he sat down.

"In my experience most men with power are," Daud said. "They can't seem to get there without breaking their own rules."

"Yes, I suppose you would know that very well," Corvo said. Samuel glanced between the two of them, clearly uneasy, before finally tossing the last rope into the bottom of the boat and pushing off from the dock. Luckily, Daud didn't say anything else, so Corvo didn't either. They'd done what they'd come to do. Well, perhaps not precisely what he'd come to do in Corvo's case, but Campbell had gotten a worse fate than death. Corvo was sure of it.

Chapter Text

The Hound Pits was an older pub and surprisingly large. Samuel explained that the whole area was under quarantine and most of the residents had either died or been moved. It was a little exposed for Corvo’s tastes but it would do. And it wasn’t surrounded by Weepers and River Crusts like the Flooded District. Nor was every building mold-ridden and waterlogged. Daud looked equally unimpressed when they climbed out of the boat. “Should I go in with you?” Daud asked.

Corvo thought about that for a minute. No doubt Daud’s presence would raise questions, but it could also serve as an added layer of security. Corvo was finding his ability to trust had all but evaporated after all the betrayals he’d already faced in his life. Openly associating with Daud in front of this conspiracy would likely make them think twice about doing something foolish. However, there was perhaps something to be said about having Daud as a hidden insurance policy as well. After another few heartbeats of deliberation, Corvo decided he needed to let these men he was about to meet know that Corvo would be the one in charge. He gave the orders in his life now. The only one he’d had to answer to was Jessamine and she was gone.

“With me,” Corvo said.

Daud didn’t look surprised or really give any reaction at all for that matter. Not that Corvo had truly expected one. But he fell into step slightly behind Corvo easily. Letting him take the lead, which Corvo steadfastly refused to appreciate. It was only right he’d defer to Corvo despite how used to giving his own orders Daud must be. It was nothing special. Nothing to be remotely thankful about.

The inside of the pub was far more what Corvo had expected. Dimly lit, dated decor, but warm and well lived in. Two men that Corvo vaguely recognized were at the far end of the room. The smaller man was clearly a Pendleton. He had a striking resemblance to the twins -an unfortunate thing for him to be sure. The other had to be the Admiral Havelock he’d heard about, and he realized seeing him that he’d at least met the man in passing once or twice. Only briefly at large state events. Not someone he’d even call an acquaintance though.

The two men looked up as Corvo and Daud approached and seemed somewhat startled but quickly recovered. “Corvo Attano and the Knife of Dunwall,” Havelock said. “I wasn’t sure what to make of Martin’s story but it looks like he was being entirely accurate.”

“Admiral Havelock, I assume?” Corvo said.

“I am indeed. And this is Lord Trevor Pendleton,” Havelock introduced with a gesture.

Pendleton ducked his head a little. “It is good that you managed to make your way to us,” he said. “We were in the midst of planning our own rescue attempt for you. Imagine our shock when you broke out all on your own. Quite impressive, I must say.”

Corvo didn’t bother correcting the assumption that he’d had no help. “Martin has told me the overall goals you follow,” Corvo said. “It’s good to know that there are some still in Dunwall that have some sense.”

“And loyalty,” Havelock said. “You’ll find we’re very dedicated to finding Lady Emily and restoring her to the throne.”

Corvo wasn’t as concerned with the second part as the first. He didn’t honestly care about restoring Emily to the throne. It was a hard and thankless job that everyone seemed to think they knew how to do better than whoever was sitting on the throne. But he didn’t know of anyone else who could take the crown and not cause outright rebellion. Emily was the only heir after all.

Corvo heard footsteps approaching and glanced over to see the Overseer had stepped in. “Ah. I see you made it. I take it that means that Campbell is dead?” Martin said with a friendly smile.

“No,” Corvo said.

Martin’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “No?”

“I branded him a heretic instead,” Corvo said. “But I have what we need.”

Martin’s surprise grew. “O-oh. Well, yes I suppose that would… ensure he couldn’t interfere. I must admit I hadn’t thought of such a solution…” He actually looked a little uneasy for a moment but then cleared his throat and managed to regain his composure. “But you said you have what we need?”

Corvo reached into his coat and then pulled out the black book. He didn’t hand it over immediately though. “You are positive that you can decipher this?” Corvo asked.

“Absolutely.”

Corvo still looked skeptical but handed the book over. “Then find Emily. And quickly. I find I don’t have much patience at the moment.”

“Of course. I will get right on it,” Martin agreed.

“While Martin gets to work, we’ve arranged a room for each yourself and Lady Emily as well as a governess for her afterwards,” Havelock said. “I’m afraid I didn’t think to arrange any further lodgings for your Assassin friend.”

“A room for me won’t be necessary,” Daud said.

“Well, good then,” Havelock said. “May I ask how you came to employ the Knife of Dunwall, though? It is very unexpected…”

Corvo glanced at Daud who didn’t give any sort of hint as to what answer he would want, if any. So Corvo shrugged. “Who better to put an end to this coup than a legendary assassin?” he asked rhetorically. “He has connections none of us possibly could.”

“I see, I suppose that makes sense,” Havelock said, although he still looked skeptical. “Ah, if you need supplies Piero in the workshop just over there should have whatever you need. Be sure to check in with him.”

“I will,” Corvo said. “I’ll be nearby,” he added before leaving. Daud was right beside him.

Corvo went to find this Piero and was kitted out with restocked supplies and handed over a mask that Corvo wasn’t entirely sure about but took anyway because it had a useful telescoping lens feature. He still wasn’t sure he would use it as it looked like a gruesome skull but he wasn’t about to turn down anything outright at the moment.

Eventually, he found himself in the attic room that had apparently been put aside for him. Daud had stayed by his side and was mostly silent the whole time. He positioned himself at the open window in the attic and looked out at the courtyard. “I’m surprised that you didn’t tell them what I did,” Daud said after several minutes of them being alone.

“I might still,” Corvo said. He sat down on the edge of the bed. “But for now it would only cause problems.” Besides he didn’t want to invite questions about his own past if he could help it and admitting to knowing Daud for any reason beyond being on opposite sides of the law and these unusual circumstances might then lead to that. Especially since the only other way to explain his knowledge of Daud was to recount what had truly happened in the Gazebo, which would definitely make it hard to explain how he could work with Daud now.

“I suppose,” Daud said. “I’m not sure how I feel about them assuming that you’ll keep Emily here with them, though,” he added after a minute.

Corvo hummed. He also was a little wary of that. He didn’t know these men at all and while they had hired Callista Curnow, who Corvo was willing to give some benefit of the doubt thanks to her uncle, he didn’t know how dedicated or safe the rest of them were. “It won’t matter until we find Emily,” Corvo said. “Although hopefully that won’t take too long.”

“Are you going to stay here?” Daud asked, finally looking at Corvo.

“Yes. Until they find out where Emily is. I don’t want to just leave them with the book without me around,” Corvo said. “It’s the best lead currently and if Martin can’t hold up his end, I’m not going to lose it.”

Daud nodded. That made sense. “I’ll have some men look into these conspirators as well,” he said.

“Good. Especially Martin,” Corvo said. “He is an overseer, after all.”

There was a long pause between them. “And after Emily is retrieved? Are you going to keep her here?”

“It depends on what you find out about them,” Corvo answered. Taking Emily to the Flooded District to be surrounded by Whalers that had killed her mother didn’t appeal at all, but at least Corvo was sure that Daud wouldn’t dare let anything happen to Emily. The men in this conspiracy were more of an unknown. And while Corvo wanted Emily to be somewhere she was comfortable, being safe had to be the priority right now.

“I’ll continue looking into Barrister Timmish as well,” Daud said. “I doubt he’s directly involved but I know that the Outsider has directed me to this trail for a reason. Whether that reason is going to be anything but his own amusement is, of course, debatable.”

Corvo also doubted that Timmish would be helpful in finding Emily but if Daud wanted to use his men to hunt down every unlikely lead then he wouldn’t protest. Corvo certainly didn’t have the time to chase every single rumor that he heard.