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"II - Namesake"

“A what?"

Edwin pulled his gaze back to his new “friend," the effete rabbit from the Rozen brothel. He, up until this point, was the picture of mannered foppishness, all dandied up with his form-fitting attire of matching black coatvest. He was.

Aloise took a step back, controlled smile cracking. “H-hah, what?"

Pik pushed her fists to hips, scrolling eyes over the taller male. “What gives, Eddy? I mean, he's all fancy sure, but an incubi, really? If you were that ugwing randy ya' should've told me."

The rabbit looked between the two, uncertain. “Now, zhee here. . . I won't stand for these. . . accusations!"

Edwin scratched his scarf-hidden chin, studying Aloise with closer scrutiny. “Wait, really?"

Pik rolled her eyes. “Yes, really."

“Huh."

Aloise took another step back, hand going behind him. “I have no idea with either of you are talking about."

Pik chuckled, wiggling hands in front of her face. “Stuff it, fancy pants. Hy heff no idea, pleh."

Edwin, put aside his hat and overcoat, though kept revolvers nice and close. “Explains a lot, then."

The rabbit, however, was not amused, eyes darkening. “Don't be zhtupid. You think the Rozen won't notice one of their best going missing?"

“Oh relax," said Pik, eyes rolling. “Take the pike outta' yer pants. I just calls it like I sees. Been a while since I've seen one of my. . . well I was gonna' say own, but. . . same neighborhood, how about that?"

Edwin tossed his smaller partner a cautionary glance. “Pik."

“What!?"

“You're wearing all that for a reason."

She gawked at Edwin, gesturing to Aloise. “Oh fugwa! He probably knows already anyway! You brought him here, bog-brain!"

Aloise glanced between the two, ears alert. He clenched his free hand carefully, the hilt of a hidden knife safely tucked underneath his wrist. A quick flash of the hand and the tall one would go down fast, but the smaller one could prove troublesome. Except, they made no aggressive movements, regarding him as naught more than a casual acquaintance. Lunatics. But how did they know?

He stared at the small one. She looked like a witch, just shorter, much shorter. Proper tongue would call her a Fen, distantly linked to their goblin ancestor, which was nothing special. So why did she call him out as though he was as bare in the brothel? Something about her was different, off. Her eyes flashed with a violent gold-yellow, alien yet familiar.

“He doesn't know anything," said Edwin, tone soft but firm, “because there's nothing to know."

He glanced back to Aloise. “Don't mind Pik. She's a little bored, a little high, and generally a little randy. Makes her say, uh, things."

Pik squeaked with an indignant 'hmph.' “Whyyyy are you trying to cover up!?"

“Because he knows people."

Aloise eased, if for a moment, relaxing his grip. Edwin raised a hand.

“You can put the knife away, we won't hurt you."

And then the rabbit tensed again. “. . .how. . ."

“I was in the Marsh Guard, that counts for something."

Aloise didn't move.

“We're not looking for trouble. Well, not with you, at least."

Pik snickered. “Yeah, fancy pants, put the silly toothpick away."

Edwin lowered his hand. “Don't mind her."

“You won't blame me if I do," challenged Aloise, flicking pink eyes to the goblin girl. “What did you mean, wearing all that?"

Edwin frowned behind his scarf. “Bugger all."

He pressed a pair of fingers into his forehead. Pik only grinned, showing off her strangely sharp teeth. With one swift motion, she ran her hand down her face, her expression morphing. At once, the greenish skin shifted, fading, instead revealing a color of deep crimson, the unmistakable hue of something not from this world.

“See?" she sneered, staring at Aloise. “We ain't so different, you and me."

Aloise hesitated. She. . . was like him, but not. “You're an imp."

Edwin sighed. “Yes, yes, she's an imp. You're an incubi. Secrets, who needs those? Would you like to know my boot size, too?"

Pik chittered with laughs, roaming her hand back up, face returning to its green color. “Bog brain is just grumpy - we have to keep this on the low, see? Not like I'm worried. You go chattin' like a whining waloog and I'll roast you on a spit, bun boy! Keep this a secret!"

Edwin grumbled. “Pik, enough."

Aloise wiggled his nose, ears tall. He took a few cautionary glances around the room, noting the door and window. He could sprint now, perhaps, if he was in danger. Wouldn't be so hard. But, suppose if the tall one really wanted to try and hurt him, he could have. Not that he'd be successful, anyway.

“Yeah, yeah," Pik said, twirling around, returning to a stack of boxes, her “work" resting atop them. She grabbed her cleaver, attending to a growing fungal-like thing that looked more “put together" than her first abomination.

“Just don't get all stuck up in this one, Ed, was enough trouble back with that forest-prince thing."

Aloise watched her. Curious. This wasn't the sort of company he imagined Edwin hanging around with. It was fascinating, far more intriguing than the types he usually encountered. But they were also trouble. An imp, a demon to mortal minds, much like him, and a man from the marshes. How'd Edwin get here? Dagados was far south of the Sol Solarian borders. Why was he with this. . . girl. Why did they want magic peppers!?

“Well," started Edwin again, looking at Aloise. “Still planning to hop off?"

An attempt at humor? Ugh.

Aloise adjusted his vest, brushing off the freckles of dust already gathering on the expensive fabric. “Yes, well. I suppose I can overlook zhis. . . you have still paid me, after all."

Edwin's frame relaxed, a free hand drifting away from his holsters. “Good, good. The less trouble, the better."

Aloise, too, set aside his polished knife. “I don't think electing to rob Anderly is a way to avoid trouble."

“Fair enough."

Aloise huffed, looking about the room. “What now?"

Pik didn't hear them, making fine, precise cuts to her monstrosity, Aloise watching with his peripheral in relative disgust. Edwin didn't care to notice.

“Now? Well, suppose we wait. Don't need to be anywhere for two days."

The rabbit tilted his head. “Excuse? Wait, sieur, please. What do you intend to do, waltz up to the zhe inner gate and strut right in?"

Edwin shrugged. “That's why we have you."

Aloise managed a hard chuckle, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “. . .unbelievable. No, no. Zhat won't work. You need a change of clothes, a shave. An alibi."

Pik cackled. “Haw! You hear that, bog-brain!? You gotta' get all fancy!"

Edwin frowned, eyes distraught. “Why?"

Aloise squinted, leaning, hands to hips. “You hired me to get you into zhis, didn't you?"

“. . .well. . ."

He raised a finger. “No. Shh. You cannot go as, well, whatever zhis is supposed to be," he said, making a gesture at Edwin.

Aloise looked at the window, muttering a curse Edwin didn't understand. “It's too late in the eve. Tomorrow, you and I are getting you something to wear, and a bloody namesake too!"

“Hang on. . ."

“SHH! Edwin of zhe bog water isn't a name worth a copper pence. Ghhn, if I had known you weren't zhis prepared. . . did you really think you could hire an escort and just waltz into the Anderly estate!?"

Again, Pik chortled. “Hgggh. Escort. Fancy way of sayin' whore."

Aloise ignored her, or tried to, while Edwin tapped his arm.

“Maybe."

In faux prayer and display, Aloise pushed his hands together, looking at the ceiling. “Oh, ave, Sister Sathia, save me. . ."

“It's not that bad."

Aloise gave a dull expression. “I need some wine. Does zhis. . . place have wine?"

Edwin scratched his head. “If you count something that tastes like boiled grapes in an old shoe wine, sure."

Another face. “Urghn. Fine. I will excuse myself and fix zhis. . ."

He went for the door, waiving his hand in the air, hips swinging in aggravated display. “Mess."

The frame swung shut, Pik scoffing. “Wow, what a find, bog brain."

“He's fine," reassured Edwin. “This is fine."

-*-

There was little time to spare, and the next day Edwin and Aloise ventured out.

Midday cast a dull, orange gloom over the tall buildings as sunlight dappled through heavy gray clouds. The streets were crowded with the noisy populace of Lower Vallen, intermixed with extended patrols of Solarian guards and shout of salespeople vending their wares. This, to Edwin, was far more a comfortable environment, reminding him of his pre-swamp days. With so many eyes distracted by a shiny thing here or loud voice there, they had no time to gander at the tall, skulking man draped in thick leathers, nor his effeminate companion.

That didn't last, though. Aloise was quick to get them to the western part of the city where the aloof hung about. It was the closest thing one could get to mixing commoner with nobility, represented by the posh upper shops selling inventory that didn't look like it'd taken a bath in soot. Pik was conveniently absent, at least for now, off to get “food" for Edwin and Aloise, although that tended to go poorly.

The rabbit wasn't content to allow Edwin to carry on as he was, at least not for the planned “caper." He dragged him towards the inner streets of the Gardenia District, a place smelling of perfumes and willows. Much to his terror, it was for clothes shopping.

“Here. In."

Aloise gestured at a fanciful building, a place for a gentleman to buy fabrics that made him look like a gentleman.

“Very funny," said Edwin, halting at the front. “Very. Funny."

Aloise tugged him along. “Stop zthallng. Let's go."

“I don't have the money for this."

Aloise wouldn't hear it. “I'll pay. Now let's go."

Edwin sought literally any excuse to not have to do this, but it was, unsurprisingly, fruitless. They entered, and soon Edwin was assaulted by a set of select tailors, wiry gents of old age looking him over with disapproving eyes and frowns. They chattered with Aloise, who apparently knew the keeps quite well. Like a horse on parade, Edwin was subjected to the measurements and definitions of his height while Aloise sat, legs crossed, sipping a coffee, watching with a quiet amusement. He was in his own fanciful attire, looking _far _too comfortable, and Edwin had to wonder where Aloise got his attire from while the men doted about his boots.

“Why. . ." said Edwin through grit teeth as he stared at his reflection. He was currently wearing a deep blue outfit with brass button cuffs and gilded silver accented with white gloves.

“Why this," he said, glaring at Aloise, who sat across from him, observant.

“So you don't look like the common trash, Eddy," shot back Aloise, setting aside his cup. “Look the part, act the part."

“That's supposed to be your job."

A chuckle. “I'm the fancy rose on your breast, your prince, your noble date. Half the act on the zhtage. You have to be zhe other."

Edwin grumbled. He wasn't wrong. There really was no other way to do this beyond trying to scale the outer estate walls in some manner, and attempting so was asking for a death penalty – or worse. Pik coming along was out of the question, even if she did bother to put on something that hid her cleavage. Without the proper look and mannerisms people would pick Edwin out like a festering wound and have him flogged for just existing.

He blinked. “Date?"

Aloise's flicked away and he cleared his throat. “Of course. Hopeless romantics sell the zhtory better. I know what I'm doing!"

Edwin shrugged while the elderly man returned, holding a brush and set of trousers. “Fine, fine. What's this about a namesake?"

Aloise's tall ears perked. “It is your title."

He explained a noble of any affluence or wealth needed claim to a title of some esteem to maintain respect in higher Solarian courts. Even a stranger could mince and mingle so long as they had deeds to speak of, or wealth, or lineage. Establishing details, the rabbit explained, was how young hopefuls entered the field of greater Solarian politics. The more you talked the more you met and the more friends you made. Offer a favor here, get a favor there, and soon you were managing your own little corner of the city with allies in high places.

“Understand?"

Edwin batted away one of the attendants who persisted at brushing his suit. “Puff myself up like a frog and croak like one too. That sound right?"

Aloise smirked. “Yes."

“Wonderful. So, you'll do the talking."

The smirk faded. “Very funny."

When the attendants were satisfied, Edwin looked himself over with a mix of begrudging approval. “I need a hat."

“It's too distracting for the ensemble."

Edwin shook his head, turning to Aloise. “No," he said, “I need a hat. Can't abide by the light for long."

Aloise huffed and rolled his eyes. “Zhat is bit dramatic."

“You think my coat was for show?"

The rabbit gave a nose wiggle. “You're serious?"

“Last 'gift' from the swamps. Pales the skin, eyes, and hair."

“. . I see."

Aloise tilted his head, resting cheek on fist. “Ah, fye, I zhuppose we can manage. A man with a fancy hat and no titles. Saints, save us."

The rabbit stood, fluff tail giving a wriggle as he strode to Edwin before straightening out the lapels to the attire and fixing the buttons.

“You can do something well, I hope," he commented, tightening Edwin's collar.

“I shoot things."

Aloise grumbled. “Wonderful. Ah, nm. Hm. Edwin Eohbart, zhpecialist for. . ."

Edwin blinked. “Excuse me? Eohbart?"

Aloise glanced up to his counterpart and ran a finger across his chin, feeling the stubble, tongue clicking. “Canterion Marksmanship."

“What?"

Aloise looked pleased. “Your title, sieur. Edwin Eohbart is a respectable name. You knew a well-to-do family in Canterion. You are their personal trainer, ah? For the son to get better at the hunts? Work with me."

Edwin thought to interject but. . . that was a decent cover story. Except he didn't even know Canterion, save it was a puffy city not too far from the Southlands.

“I'll do the talking," added Aloise. “And, ahm. I'll have to change my hair. . . can't be recognized."

He tapped his lips, thinking. “Eloise Pierro. Hmm. Zhat's good. I met you when you'd come by the Canterion theater to see Sunny by the River, and we got along very well, and now we're eloping across the Solarian countryside. . ."

Edwin blinked. "I see the 'date' has evolved."

Again, Aloise flushed, clearing his throat. “Yes, well. We need a story."

“As long as it works." Edwin paused, considering. “And getting in?"

“Needs a Sigil ov Sola, a pendant on the breast, which, you'll be happy to know, I have."

“Do I need to know how?"

A mischievous smile. “Oh, the gossip I could tell. Suffice to say certain nobility like to conduct their business. . . not in a brothel. A pendant makes a nice gift to keep pesky guards looking elsewhere."

Edwin could guess the rest, and it was certainly convenient. But also a potential problem. If someone recognized “Eloise" or Edwin for charlatans the situation would go south, fast. But, that was all he could hope for. He looked around, making sure there was no one to hear his next words.

“Good enough for a cover. We won't have to talk long, and all I need is a way to let Pik in and to find where they're keeping the stuff. Simple enough."

Aloise's features faltered somewhat_._ “It doesn't have to be so quick."

“Too risky. We're not there to talk."

Aloise tightened Edwin's collar hard, pouting. “No. Of course not."

He stepped back, looking Edwin over. “It will do."

Edwin glanced behind him to see the approach of attendants with more clothes. “Let's go."

-*-

Pik scurried down the streets of the smog-eaten city without a care in the world, practically skipping as she dashed through crowds to the venues where food was sold. Most of it was basic – bread, salted fish, cured meats, vegetables (not the kind she needed – simple things for a simple broth). She liked to whip together the ol Swamp Stew, a big pot full of everything. So much flavor there was no flavor! Ah, but Edwin never complained, and it kept her thighs good and wide. She wasn't short and stacked for nothing!

The best part? Crowds paid her no mind. There were all sorts of folk around these parts. Rats sold bottles of turpentine while hissing in skitter-speak, three-toothed coastmen bragged about their hauls from the coast and hocked whale oil, soldiers mused while chomping old apples, and even an Ussadish man here and there, twiddling colored beards. A bunch of losers, weirdos, and mutants. Beautiful!

She darted about, looking for something that might suit her simple needs. Kinda hard to see being that she came up to a waist. Though, something did appear in her peripheral. Something interesting. On a street corner was a lad, hardly a lick of fuzz on his peach face, talking to a man. Said man, though, had no business wandering the lower annals of Vallen. He was too finely clothed, head covered with an ornate mask, a blunt weapon at his side. He looked to be buying a thing off the kid before strutting off, handing over a paper, where Pik watched from a distance.

Hang on, that fella was one of the Anderly men, wasn't he? Hmm. She squinted, then gave the boy a once over. Ahhh, an idea. . . perhaps information she could get? She cackled to herself. Opportunity!

She pranced to the young fella' who sat on a box, looking at his received sliver of parchment, eyes wide. At Pik's approach, he stuffed it away in a hurry.

“Oh, ehem, greetings there, might I interest you in a fine peach, miss?"

Polite little squirt.

Pik knew one thing: she wanted that paper. If it was given by an Anderly guard, it might be useful. She looked up to him, grinning, glancing to his shelves of semi-ripe fruit.

“Oooh, in just a sec," she snickered, looking around. She pointed up to his chest. “What'cha got in there? Must be a big shot to have a fancy note from a fancy guard."

The boy blinked, stepping back. Wasn't even in his second decade, by the looks of it. “I don't know what you're talkin' about."

She tilted her head. “Bweheheheh."

He cleared his throat. “Miss, dunno what this is, I j-just sell peaches for me old man."

“And where's he?"

A shrug. “He's off."

“But you're not."

He blinked. “I. . . what?"

Pik dawned an expression that was positively predatory, fanged teeth showing. “I want that note."

“W-what? W-what are you. . ."

She snickered. “Little gumbers are so cute. Here, let's trade. . ."

At once, PIk snagged her dress and pulled it open from the center, allowing her perky, shapely bosom to fall free. The green orbs danced into sight with healthy bounces, dotted with dark green freckles. The boy seized, gawking.

“I-I-I. . ."

Pik laughed. “Yeahyeahyeah, gonna' get you sayin' more than that. Let's go, stutters."

She yanked him by the wrist, dragging him into the alley behind a stack of barrels, an avenue of privacy. Like a voracious beast she tore down his pantaloons and yanked out his fleshy member, which began to stiffen from such abrupt attentions. The boy was rose faced, utterly beside himself, shuddering as in less than a minute an impish girl was inches away from throating his cock.

She grabbed the inches, stroking them to life while she stared up to him with a submissive gaze. “Said you had a peach for me, eh?"

Her mouth slipped to wrap around his smooth testes, tongue lashing forward to take steady, heavy strokes of the polished stones. Sloppy, aggressive suckles accompanied, her lips snugly mouthing the sizeable jewels as the boy cried in low, pleased coos, his shaft resting in Pik's inky black hair. She had him pressed into a wall as she worked, dizzying his head, watching his shirt pocket.

She popped him free, giggling. “Guess this is a first for you."

She took his tip and rested it against her tongue, tapping it there. “Canth I haffth the noth nffaow?"

“W-w-what. . ."

PIk scoffed. “Pfah, little ugwa."

What proceeded was an aggressive assault upon the lad's loins, burying his root into Pik's throat while she messily suckled him, turning his mind into putty. When that wasn't enough, she forced the kid to sit while she proceeded to mount him, bouncing her perky, plump rump on his pike until his was a muttering pile of post-orgasm mess.

Pik pulled off, her cunny dripping with fresh human seed, hips wiggling as she leaned forward to dig around in the kid's pockets for the note.

“Thanks kiddo, the peach was delicious."

Boy was so dizzied he could scarcely muster a motion or response. Good. Pik finished her business, cleaned up, and scampered off once again with note tucked in hands. When she found a dark space to read it over, she gazed at it, interested to see.

She blinked.

. . .she couldn't read it.

Not because she didn't understand Engla Basa, the most common tongue of them all, but because it wasn't written in Engla. No, there were fancy markings Pik wasn't familiar with, and that was saying something. The only thing she did recognize was the Anderly sigil, a fancy gold embroidered rose with two swords through the center. Now, what in in the name of ugwa was a boy vending shitty peaches doing with a note like this?

All she could make on the scribblings were two things:

ISLE KADRO and SEDRIUS.

She scratched her head. The Isle Kadro? She and Ed were planning to hoof it across the waters to get there. The hell was all this about? Why was an Anderly man carrying this around? Couldn't have been for the boy. But his father?

Well, it was neat, but didn't help her much. Or did it? Only Edwin could make sense of this, she figured. Putting the thoughts aside, she stuffed the paper into her cleavage and went back for food, which mostly entailed her tossing a pence here and there and stealing the rest, taking special care not to run into the boy again.

When she returned to the tavern, it was close to evening, but neither the fancy foof-tail nor Edwin were about. She grumbled. Ugh, fek and wag. Leave it to an incubi to be late! The hell could those two possibly have been up to!?