Suspicion

[Geon]

((OOC: This is just a time burner and character building thread for Geon. Wouldn't hurt to put some posts in the boards as well, just to boost activity. If one or two others would like to join in, that's fine. If not, I've got an outline I'll use to finish it up.))

Geon Geonprière exited the Great Chapel of Arkay, Blessed is He, after his monthly visit for worship. Normally he worshiped by maintaining the order, completing the circle. In layman's terms, ending unlives. But every once in a blue moon he needed to recharge and escape from his rigorous duties. The days of watching, planning, and finally executing took their toll on the hardened hunter, and each encounter with the enemies of Arkay left him despairing at the fate of the world. Thankfully, his visits to the chapel were always uplifting, always regenerative. The audible prayers of others within lifted him and strengthened him anew for the inevitable return to hardship.

The city of Cheydinhal was bustling with midday activity. The area around the chapel being mostly residential was quiet, but the sounds of merchants' wares being loaded and the blacksmith's hammer carried well across the river that bisected the town. Geon himself seemed to be the only thing out of place. Although he had left the majority of his gear at the local Mages Guildhall, he still looked conspicuous given his gaunt appearance and slightly inimical attitude toward the townsfolk (which was mutual). It didn't hurt that the guards always liked to keep a close eye on him since the incident with the tomato salesman.

Disregarding the soldier who'd drawn the "Geon duty" straw and was waiting outside the doors of the chapel, the witchhunter sauntered down the main thoroughfare of the residential district before crossing the bridged river. He decided to make a stop in the general store for an apple or two, which the ten coins in his pocket should afford, even if the prices were outrageous. He ascended the stone steps quietly, aware of the Imperial boots plodding along behind, and slipped inside the tall-roofed building.

Inside, the smells of food and old wood were prevalent. Geon went down a small hallway, passing a Dunmer going in the other direction who was somewhat repulsed by the…unique aroma of the hunter’s lifestyle. He recognized her. In fact, he’d thought about investigating her several weeks prior, suspecting that she might be a worshipper of Daedra, or even capable of summoning them. There had been a couple of disappearances in recent months around the town, but never of anyone that lived there. The victims were those passing through, either fleeing from war-torn Morrowind or going there to seek their fortunes. The woman was secretive and tended to buy strange supplies, as it had cost Geon a good deal of gold to find out. She rarely left her home if the rumors were true, and people thought they heard strange noises from her basement during the night.

Stepping up to the counter, Geon smiled semi-politely at the Orcish proprietor. After a short greeting, he inquired as to the price of two apples and subsequently bought them. He turned to leave, but then back as though he had forgotten something and asked, “Oh, by the way, what did that young Dunmeri lady purchase while she was here?”

The Orc scowled and asked, “What’s it to you?”

Geon frowned, wondering if the Pig Child was from Orsinium and hated Bretons just because she could. He tried to smile again, but failed, and said, “I’m sorry, let me rephrase my question. What…” At this he placed the remainder of his coinage in a stack on the counter. “…did she buy?”

[Geon]

Geon glanced over the small, chicken-scratched list of supplies the Dunmer had bought as he descended the stone steps outside of the general store. Mostly innocuous: Fruit, bread, meat. Deadly nightshade? That one certainly jumped out. Why would she need nightshade flowers? He realized that stores sometimes kept them because, but they were rarely used in anything but poisons. So why would any ordinary woman need to make a poison from the nightshade flower? Well, obviously, to poison someone. And poisoning someone is generally done for the purpose of killing them.

And why would she need to kill someone?

Thinking back, Geon remembered hearing and dismissing a small rumor about an assassination service that had been run in Cheydinhal a few years back. Probably the Morag Tong. He'd run into them back on Vvardenfell. They were a big organization, presumably with networks across the Empire, where they were of course illegal. Worshiped one of the Daedric Princes, Mephala, the Night Mother, he thought. Was this woman murdering travelers on their way through Cheydinhal and using the blood-sacrifice to communicate with her otherworldly master? Was she poisoning her fellow Men and Mer in favor of the demons of Oblivion? Was there a miniature heretical temple in her basement, replete with red candles and black Daedric torture implements? Were Dremora and Spiders being invited into Mundus from the Webspinner's realm?

Was there any doubt?

Geon looked up from the list to catch sight of the Dark Elf rounding a corner down the street. He gave chase at a brisk walk, distantly aware of the guard's loud footfalls somewhere behind him. As he rounded the corner himself, he saw the woman unlock the front door to her home and enter. He approached the home and peaked in the window. The woman was putting her purchases in a cupboard; her back was to the window. A door was visible from the window, which Geon thought must lead to the basement given the shape of the outer walls. And was that a small splotch of blood on the floor near it?

The guard must have decided that he should do something about the crazy stalker peaking in people's windows just about then. He grabbed the Breton by the shoulder and spun him around, saying, "Move along, citizen. Nothing to see here." Geon scowled and bore his yellow teeth at the guard. Once again, the authorities of the Empire were interfering in his affairs, disrupting justice. But they were not to blame. They were after all, educated in a minimalist fashion, restricted by unnecessary laws, and trained to see only the least important crimes. Trying to calm himself, he untensed his muscles. The guard sensed this and released his shoulder, settling the armored hand on his belt.

Having composed himself, Geon wiped his mouth and said,
"Excuse me, I did not intend to break any laws, but..." He trailed off, looking from side to side, and glancing back at the house. "I have reason to believe that the owner of this home is engaged in illegal activities. She works for an illicit assassination organization, is responsible for multiple murders, and has been summoning Daedra in her basement."