Chapter 10: All's Well That Ends in Ankle-Deep Sewage

"There's some draenei demanding to see the magisters." Asric heard the guard with the mutilated ear say. Asric, who had been trying to get to sleep, instantly abandoned the project and leaned forward to press his ear to the door.

"What the hell does a draenei want with any of our magisters? Did he say which one?" said another, female voice.

"Magister Hathorel, I think." Asric pounded on the door until one of the guards decided to open it, mostly to get him to shut up. "What?" the male guard snapped.

"Can I speak to the draenei?"

"Why would we let you do that?"

"What the hell am I going to do, escape? Bring him here."

He needn't have argued more. The door down the hallway slammed open, and Asric saw Magister Hathorel storm into the hallway with his hair unbound and his robes in disarray. He appeared to have been dragged directly out of bed, and he was not pleased. At the other end of the hall, a cluster of armed guards stood with their swords out, apparently escorting someone; Asric could see a familiar blue head peering out from behind the wall of swordsmen.

"What is the meaning of this?" Hathorel said, sounding more like a petulant teacher than an angry sorcerer. The guards parted a bit to allow Jadaar to stick out one arm, a tiny piece of paper crushed between his fingers. Hathorel was not impressed. "And what is that?" he snapped. "I don't have time for this. We don't have time for this."

"If you will examine the paper, Magister," Jadaar said.

"And why would I do that? Throw this man out, immediately." The guards saluted, and two of them turned to seize him by the arms and escort him out with force if necessary. Jadaar raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"By all means, Magister Hathorel," Jadaar said, graciously. "I simply thought you wanted a look at the evidence that is going to exonerate the man you had arrested. Since I have already taken the liberty of sharing it several hours ago with the captain of the guard and three other Magisters as an anonymous tip and they are already out investigating, I just thought I would come by and show you as a courtesy before I leave these in the custody of a higher-ranking official."

"I don't…" Hathorel began, but Jadaar lifted up the piece of paper again.

"This is a receipt drawn up from by a goblin moneychanger named Usuri Brightcoin. She threw it out because she accidentally started to write 'copper' rather than 'silver' on the second line. It is addressed to a Vasarin Redmorn — no relation, of course, to the individual currently in your custody. The captain of the guard confirmed that the distinction between their names is not quite so fine in Thalassian, but since Utherin Brightspark spoke to his goblin contact exclusively in Common, this vital piece of information managed to slip through the cracks. An innocent oversight, I'm sure. This…" Jadaar dug in his bag and came up with an ashtray that had clearly seen some use. "This is an ashtray encrusted with burnt, tarry ashes — identical to the ones on the table in the Cantrips and Crows, where the proprietor told me that the recently vanished Utherin Brightspark used to meet with his goblin friend. The ashes are fairly recent."

"Circumstantial," Hathorel said, with a dismissive wave of a long-fingered hand.

"For now. When your captain of the guard returns from speaking with Quartermaster Redmorn and his goblin co-conspirator, I suspect the quality of the evidence will have improved considerably." Two of the Sunreaver guards pulled futilely on Jadaar's arms before they settled on simply crowding him out of the room with their swords drawn. "Good day, Magister Hathorel," Jadaar called, before he was out of sight.

Hathorel rounded on Asric, who had been leaning in the doorway watching the proceedings. Before he could dismiss the guards, Asric put on his best innocent face and said "Since I'm apparently out of the lineup of suspects, may I go?" Hathorel looked helplessly from the guards to Asric and back again, then turned away.

"Go. Get out of my sight," he said, his voice dripping with defeat. Asric savored it for a moment, then turned and fled down the hallway as quickly as he could without actually breaking into a run.

Jadaar was waiting for him in the purple-paved main street, outside the archway that formed the entrance to the Sunreaver's district. They left together.

The Cantrips and Crows was known as the cheapest lodging house in Dalaran. It cut costs in several key areas — for one, it was situated in the center of an actual sewer, thus ensuring that only the desperate or those lacking a functioning sense of smell would ever get near the place. It also saved money by offering old, straw-stuffed matresses that had housed entire civilizations of fleas, inedible food, undrinkable drink, and employing a single barmaid who had raised sullen disinterest to the level of art. It was a genuinely awful place, but at least here they could stretch their last few coppers over a period of weeks rather than days.

"So…what now?" Asric said, holding his nose and taking a swig of his drink. It was supposedly beer, but Asric would not have picked that term to describe it.

"We need money," Jadaar said. "Utherin Brightspark is still missing. There's a reward out for information leading to his return."

"Back on the old beat, huh?" Asric said. "I could get used to that."

"You're assuming I want your dubious assistance." Jadaar tapped the edge of his mug idly. "Remind me again why I tolerate your company, Asric."

Asric smirked wryly, and pulled Jadaar into a kiss. Jadaar still tasted of cheap drink, the air smelled of sewage and burnt gruel, and the wobbly table in between them was filling Asric's elbow with splinters, but it was still a good enough answer.