A List Made, Checked Twice

[Tolleson]

“Quite t-true,” but there was almost always someone, a friend, a family member, an employer, a lover who would say, oh how different they had been during that time. That was, if that friend or lover remembered it themselves. It was so very difficult to tell the mind of one from the other, but not so hard to see the difference between an innocent bystander subjected to intrusive mind magic and the same, used as a convenient excuse. Was Myrken to forgive all the crimes that occurred simply because it could not be determined if the infringer was within his or her mind? It certainly wasn’t a judgment Genny was about to make, for now, it was just observation, practically polite conversation.

“Th-th-the Lady… she was… she was very powerful,” a deflated sigh is offered, as she practically fed him the excuse. Peeking over her shoulder and out what window was available sent her lips to purse, as if pensive on that last thought or the one that would follow.

“Mister Burnie t-then…” The words are immediately interrupted as a less traveled road’s pothole jostles the carriage. For a moment she merely smiles, letting the worst bumps of the washboard path pass before she speaks again.

“Before all of… before t-the Lady t-then, you were t-t-tasked t-t-to… to design something… a sort of …prison for t-t-the pit, yes? Mister Burnie’s request, I imagine?”

[Dulcie]

"She was very powerful, and a great woman." He added to Genny's statement, gauging her reactions to his words based on her expressions and the tone of her voice. "Ms. Olwak always had the power to do what she did, and yet she contained it. I believe it was something else that unleashed that power, but how easy it was for us to forget that she held it, that all along she had the ability to do as she wished and then never did it. Controlling that much power must have been exhausting for her. It is good we remember what she did when she had it's control, and not perhaps as much when it was lost. It is easy to demonize the powerful and we are quick to forget their goodness. Ms. Olwak was a friend and I miss her dearly, as I've missed the Governor as well. It is not easy for a foreigner to build relationships in Myrkenwood."

He quieted then, returning to watching and listening to her next question.

"Indeed. It was shortly after I was appointed to my position and the mad man had destroyed the gaol. Governor Burnie came to me and acknowledged my skill as an engineer and an artist. He knew that if anyone could design a gaol it could be me. He asked for a Labyrinth, and Golben was to be the destination. It was intended to hold, but not kill the most dangerous of folk. Wild werewolves, criminals, that sort of ilk. Honestly it's a rather humane way of looking at the treatment of the damned. How better would one like to live? Within the freedoms of a broad, wide labyrinth where you could still see the light of day and build your own life amongst the other convicts, or a tiny brick hole with a gated cage where you receive three soupy meals a day and no other guarantees?

Still, the Governor was concerned about public opinion on the matter, and he asked me to keep it's creation quiet. I am nothing if not a man of discretion you see. I'm well connected, and well able to undertake such a large project with very little notice." Something about that last statement seemed ominous, even though his tone hadn't changed from his usual, smooth manner of speaking. The idea that he could accomplish something as big as Golben right under the noses of the people of Myrken could leave one wondering as to what else he might have done or created while they were looking the other way. Indeed, Golben could be the distraction, and not the end product. People often forgot that Berdini was an illusionist before he became a Councilor, and getting people to look where he wanted them to was something he was very, very good at.

[Tolleson]

“Yes, Rhaena,” the girl’s eyes flicked down to her hands, they had been intertwined, a sturdy wall of fleshy bricks, built in her lap. Fingers fell apart, her palms facing up, as she sighed and a mournful weight overtook her. A moment more and her gaze returns. Under her lashes are green half circles with unguarded pupils, peeking up from a still downcast face; they too easily reveal the vulnerable and mourning child beneath the shell of responsibility that lent her posture, words, and purpose.

“It is… refreshing t-t-to hear th-this perspective, she is… she was… a dear friend,” a teacher, was perhaps the better word, but still the admiration and love Genny held for the late Miss Olwak made, ‘friend’ the only appropriate identifier. It was no secret that Genny had opposed Rhaena’s rule, but she was also of the camp that there was hope for her yet, that the sweet Myrken angel they all had once loved was still within the woman and she was worth saving. But sentiments rarely saved lives, so it is a bitter sadness, a heavy heart and a pinch of guilt written too plain upon her that he might readily gauge.

As for the Golben, his explanation has her face lifting and her eyes level. She breathes steady and listens to the entirety of his explanation before replying.

“Yes, you’ve done… it is a marvelous undert-taking… it t-t-took me quite a while to discover your hand in it.” She smiled sweetly, as if the words are praise for a fine job at pulling a tablecloth free while the silverware and plates remained. But in truth, the idea that he could accomplish something like Golben without a soul knowing, was terrifying, at least as much as Rhaena's power had been at it's height. “You must, again, forgive me… I am ill-informed on t-these matters… but I rather t-think convicts and t-the sort, well, it seems rather a dangerous idea t-to let those of… such depravity and ill-mind to collude. Separation may be less humane, but… surely t-together t-t-they present a greater danger… t-t-to one another, t-to others should t-t-they escape.”

Her words were a statement, as if even though she apologized for ignorance she had studied the matter to some extent. She seems about to say something more when the carriage leaves the level road, slowing to a stop on some bumpy outcrop.

[Dulcie]

He would see the expression of guilt crossing her face, and for a moment he would reach out with gloved hands and try to hold hers in a gentle capture of smaller hands within his larger ones.

"Miss Genny, there was nothing that you could have done. This I hope you know. This is a town that fears evil and monsters, and people often forget to look past the danger to the heart of the matter. I know not if your mind was captured as well, however those that brought the Lady's end may well have presumed that there was no other means out from it. We all do what we think is right in the moment. Her loss is regrettable, and we all shall mourn for her, in ways of our own, but there is so very little control we have over others."

He'd release her hands then if she had allowed them to be held, and he'd listen to her perspective on the matter of Golben.

"I believe that may have been the intention. To have the convicts be a danger to one another. I don't believe escape was ever a part of the plan. There were people sent to it I believe, but before it was ever truly established as a prison. Were one to have guards stationed along it's edge I believe it would be quite impossible to wage an escape from the place. Although on the other hand, being as how Governor Burnie found himself condemned I'm quite glad it wasn't a fully functioning prison by that point. His return is a benefit to us all."

He felt the carriage come to a stop, and for some reason it had a very familiar feel about it. Despite his words, his kindnesses and his casual demeanor, he didn't trust Genny, and he was curious about the reasons he had brought him here in the first place.

[Tolleson]

Dainty wasn’t quite the right word, her fingers were long and lean, as if wielded by someone else they may have been the epitome of grace. He captures her hand and for a moment she is stone, her eyes a little wider and focused intently on the man. She says nothing, not argument or agreement to the inevitability of Rhaena’s death, she simply stares and when he releases her arms retract until straight and her hands will curl into fists that press down gently in into her thighs.

Perhaps in this instant they are very alike, not only in sentiment regarding Rhaena but their distrust in one another.

We all do what we think is right, in the moment. This moment was beginning to look, increasingly, like a terrible idea. In this moment a dozen thoughts would flash through her mind in the strange silence that followed, punctuated by the crunch of gravel and the end of the pleasant whisper of wind, a melody of creaking wood rushing over road, the sound of movement.

“If… t-there were others sent t-t-there and… Burnie has escaped… it would, wouldn’t it stand to reason t-that others would follow?” She returned to the safety of the position and words she knew as the driver’s weight lifted, his footsteps followed and the door at Genny’s side opened. She would step out into the cold but pleasantly golden, late afternoon light, the long shadows mingling with a far greater one just before them, like spilled ink across the land. The Golben lay no more than one-hundred paces away and here stood the Inquisitor with an open and outstretched arm, looking back and beckoning that the man might join her outside, as casually as if for a pleasant stroll in the park.

[Dulcie]

A mutual distrust. He could sense her discomfort and found it intriguing. She was perhaps as nervous as he was, her body language said as much.

"The difference is that the Governor was not guarded, and a rescue effort was allowed. Were it truly a prison guards would have been watching and thwarted those efforts. One could not escape Golben without wit and assistance."

The carriage stopped and the door was opened. He bowed his head at Genny's beckoning and emerged from the carriage with his usual graceful movements, as if he had been born to step from carriages with flourish. His cane was carried beneath his arm until he stepped forth and then it was promptly planted in the ground, his gloved hand covering the carved handle of the cane.

"I see you have brought me to the place we have been discussing. I must admit, when considering one's reputation usually a lady selects a more public location."

[Tolleson]

“Wit and assistance,” she repeated, as if committing the simple thing to memory, perhaps unable to say anything intelligent as she watched the grandeur that was his exit from the vehicle.

“Oh,” the mention of propriety seemed to surprise her, as if of all things she hadn’t considered that. Or perhaps she was still focused on absorbing all of the grace he so easily emanated. “T-this is t-t-t… t-true. But… I am afraid my purpose in visiting you t-today leaves… T-this place,” her eyes fell away, and for a brief moment seemed lost in the thing.

“It leaves other locations ill suited for… for what I hope t-to accomplish.”

Her eyes returned, but they weren’t devious or threatening, she surely didn’t seem about to try and toss him into the depths. It is a rather inquisitive look, young, but not so much so that she had forgotten her purpose; ready, willing, and as able as she might ever be.

“You see, councilor, I cannot hope… t-to learn the t-truth of what happened,” she smiled weakly and turned to walk, ever so carefully, in the direction her eyes had fled only moments ago, nearer to the pit.

“Not t-to Glenn Burnie, nor the Lady Rhaena… not even what killed t-the only other man I can t-think to corroborate fact from fiction. Th-though, please, do not misunderstand me, I… believe in the necessity of t-the Governor’s version of t-the t-t-truth, but… I am not so simple t-to th-think ignoring t-the t-truth it is without consequence.”

[Dulcie]

"Your statement sounds a bit foreboding." He commented as he looked at her. At this point he just listened. No it didn't look as if she intended to toss him into the pit, but then he wasn't about to take chances either. She began to wander closer to the edge and he'd hesitate, staying where he was.

"You should be very careful Miss Genny. The edges of the pit are somewhat unstable. I would hate for either of us to have an accident, I'm not sure we would survive the fall." It wasn't a threat, far from it, but it gave Berdini a good reason to stay away from the edge of the pit himself.

"I wonder at how you wish to ascertain the truth by being here. Is there something that speaks to you that can not be addressed simply by discussion?"

[Tolleson]

From behind her there is a gentle, ‘be careful,’ and it was enough to stop the young woman in her tracks. “Foreboding?” She turned again to face him, this time much more slowly, as if a sudden movement might send her toppling down to the depths, the precipice closer now but still several dozen paces away. It is only a moment of confusion written too plainly across her face, before she is able to retrace her words and think on his interpretation. “Ah, daunting, and perhaps regrettable… considering how much, well all of t-t-the work you’ve put into constructing such a place,” in her voice there is admiration despite the fact that she seemed to think the pit an abomination.

“T-to know t-the t-truth… will do me little good.” She sighed, as if finally resigning to the fact of the words now that they were spoken aloud. “I cannot… deny it appeals to me, like siren does a sailor. But… in th-this respect, I believe Glenn Burnie whole heartedly: t-the t-t-truth will not serve Myrken. It neither feeds or shelters t-them… it does not plant t-t-the seed or reap t-the harvest, while I cannot in good conscious say it is irrelevant, what I do know… what I know is that the whole of this place is a bane to Myrken,” her arm gestured wide towards the pit.

“T-t-truth is a… a poisonous t-temptation, liable to be t-the death of others th-that would come to seek it. I am... I t-think, t-this place is a price t-t-too high for the t-t-truth of one death, it needn’t be the cause of others.”

There was a pause as she considered what she said, though she had clearly been ruminating on it before. There were those would happily die for a truth, but what would this truth accomplish, what good would come of a quest for truth that served no purpose, in a place like this. Suddenly quite overtaken with grief, she seems to be imagining the loss of a friend or someone dear in such a quest, and surely she knew a handful who would embark on such a foolish mission. “I brought you here so t-that you might show me how best… t-t-to destroy it and bury whatever awful t-t-truth it may hold.”

[Dulcie]

It was a turn he hadn't quite been expecting. He had expected her to seek the truth, to demand it even. It seemed from the very beginning that she had been set on investigation and inquiry, this was the complete opposite, and the surprise showed on his face as she listened to her soliloquy and saw the look of grief that rested on her face.

"I'm afraid that's one answer I can't give you, for I don't know how myself. I am very, very good at creating things Ms. Genny, but destroying them is another thing entirely. I would say that you could fill the whole place in, cover it up, but the logistics of acquiring that much soil in a farming community I think is quite impossible. Too many people would lose top soil in a time when they are quite in need of fertile ground.

We could of course remove what is within Golben. Withdraw what was placed there in the same manner as how it was delivered, at least for the most part. However that would not solve the problem of a giant crater resting in this place."

He appeared sorry, truly sorry as he looked at her, ever the actor. "I wish that I could help, truly I do, but I don't know what else I can offer you."

[Tolleson]

Demanding and petulant, she had been this once, with Glenn Burnie even, and found it to be no more helpful than asking the impossible; which seemed to be the route she’d opted for in this instance.

The moon rose and the sun was getting lower upon the horizon sending a beautiful assortment of warm colors across the sky and setting free wild shadows that begun to consume the land. Even his face was harder to see now, though he looked sorry and she would believe it. Perhaps the perfect mix of his talent the fact that she was entirely too gullible.

“I don’t believe you,” she took several, careful steps back to close the distance between them. Her words we plain but her voice seemed unsure, “how… how does a man… how do you create a t-thing and not know it in every possible sense?”

Then her look turned more suspicious than the almost childish upset it had been a moment before, "what... who... what else is in t-there?"

[Dulcie]

The timid girl looked particularly alluring in the dawn of the moonlight. It was far too big a risk with this particular girl at this particular moment. How he cursed Petronela's ban from the teahouse. He still had to think of a proper punishment for her. Perhaps being tossed in the pit would be a good fit. It was really just an idle thought that crossed his mind, and barely flickered on the surface of his face.

"It's not that I don't know the prison intimately Ms. Genny. It's a matter of not being able to undo what's been done. I could remove what I had my hand in, certainly. I do know every aspect of what's been added to Golben, but the truth is that the pit and it's inherit danger existed long before I ever arrived in Myrkenwood, and without some means of filling it in, it will continue to exist with or without my intervention."

He heard her last question and sighed slightly. "I can not say who is down there. I believe there's been a number of prisoners sent by the Lady, and a number of those who have gone to rescue them. Who has been and who has survived is beyond my knowledge. As far as what, it's a labyrinth, there are traps and turns and tricks. There are specifics certainly, but I'm not sure they'll help your cause."

[Tolleson]

Even if his file had explained a penchant for lovely young women, she wouldn’t have presumed herself among their ranks, so there is not much perceived threat. Further more, she is as young as some of the teahouse girls, being just shy of twenty, and taller than average Myrken men. Of course, Berdini couldn’t really be considered average.

A careful study of his face as she waited for a reply, might catch the small expression. But as to what prompted the flick of what was perhaps amusement, she could say and wouldn’t bother to ask. She wouldn’t say anything, in fact, for several moments. He sighed and her expression fell, seeming to resign some hope for her mission.

“Yes, I suppose t-that… t-the pit is a danger regardless...” Her arms would cross, even has her voice resigned her posture seemed adamant about finding some solution.

“Not all of… of t-the Lady’s prisoners are criminals,” her words are soft, more thinking aloud than a statement. Her brow furrowed for a moment as she looked away and then relaxed when her eyes returned.

“Knowing its t-t-tricks will help, if you show me t-the way. T-t-together we would recover t-t-the poor souls lost and… and dismantle whatever remains so… so, t-t-that it is just, just an eyesore in t-t-the ground.” Her voice seemed hopeful, but it was no small thing she asked. But even filling the hole in was no option if innocent, or even criminals, remained within, the law said nothing of a death sentence by being buried alive. Or perhaps it did, Myrken had a strange way.

[Dulcie]

It was an interesting proposition she posed, and he was again surprised, and allowed it to show upon his face.

"Miss Genny, while I appreciate your concern for Myrken's citizens, I don't believe either of us are qualified to wage a rescue mission. Now if you gathered an appropriate team I'd be happy to provide a map and details, but as far as you and I engaging in this task ourselves, I'm afraid I must refuse. You have noticed I use a cane to walk with I imagine? Theatre work, especially illusion is no easy task on the body, and I'm afraid it's taken it's toll on me. I fear I don't have the ability to get down that pit and back even if I tried to. And you Miss, while lovely and sure to have many suitors, I don't believe yours is a body built for such a venture either. It would take a great deal of physical ability, stamina and perseverance."

He frowned, thinking perhaps that sounded insulting. "What I mean, is perhaps it's best to find others who are more suited to this task, or perhaps at least a bit more experienced."

[Tolleson]

At first she smiled, sweet as dew on a flower, sweet as the pink clouds at sunrise, too sweet even, like syrup or nectar but as naturally as if it preceded earnest laughter. “Wisely so, I should t-think,” her voice sounded utterly amused, perhaps the words she had spoken belied her meaning. “And certainly not… not at a t-time like t-t-this,” her eyes glanced up to the fading red, purple and deepening blue that began to wake the stars.

“Perhaps, between t-the both of us… our connections, I mean” she offered politely as if to amend the misunderstanding. “You made mention… t-that is, you have already said you have some resources… at your disposal. That is… if… I am sure it would be a great help,” her stuttering words were a sweet flattery, even if her asking of the favor was without tactful effort.

Several steps were taken closer, she turned nearly at his side, clasping her hands together, her fingers intertwining so that all she need do was lift them and kneel to pray. But she doesn’t do this, her hands rest, together, low and atop her dress. If she found his words insulting she made no sign of it, in fact, she seemed entirely in agreement. “I had no idea illusion was difficult… t-though, I am… ashamed to admit, it is not… an art I am entirely familiar with,” her voice bespoke genuine curiosity, at least in part, her face turning that she might look at him instead of the gaping hole before them.