33rd of Glade, Year 120
"You're the last one left of all your Ebon Knights, aren't you?" she asked.
"Who, just me? There's also Eleanor," Taelian thought to remind her. The woman took a sip of her tea, then set it down unto the table, before returning her clasped hands to her lap.
"What will she do by herself, Taelian? Realistically, she'll need to return to Kalzasi. But she'll be alone in doing so -- and mind you, it is very likely that the Dranoch group you culled was in contact with another, more powerful coven in another city. The pattern of their dealings was... unusual. It was monitoring these trade deals that led me to contact the Remedy in the first place, but with all certainty I can place that there must be another group in Kamdin. Connected to..."
"The Westweald Trading Co?" he questioned.
"Yes. It appears your people are observant after all -- it is a company that I am deeply interested in, chartered by a woman who may very likely be a Dranoch. Her name is Helena Flowers, a woman from the Imperium. I believe she is heavily involved in the mercantile class; she is involved in trade with the very same Imperium and works to ensure trade relations between them and Atinaw continue to be profitable for both parties. People would surely be suspicious of her, if not for the fact that she is such an anomaly."
Taelian's brow rose. "Is she very influential?"
"Not particularly, no," she responded. "Simply another small trade conglomerate among many. Another cog in the machine. But her tactics are far more ruthless, and her competition has recently been drenched in the scandal of missing men and dead bodies, a string of murders. Her own workers do occasionally die, but always random and insignificant ones, often the ones most degenerative to the company's interests. Retiring cripples, men who broke their backs hauling goods, people injured by Druskai during a trade missive. People whose death would benefit her. Her competition, on the other hand... they're losing shipwrights, skilled captains, excellent actuaries. It's all far too suspicious, and yet investigations against her have led to nothing. Those of us with knowledge on global affairs know better. As someone who has studied the many supernatural beings of this world, I am certain that I know what she is."
The Ebon Knight lowered his gaze. "A Dranoch," he softly said, sighing into his words.
"Precisely," said the Umpire. "And she is likely the one who offered Ser Joseph his affliction. Power, wealth, immortality -- a tempting offer. And her own model has proven to work exceptionally well; prey on the misfortunate, the homeless and depraved, the starving and diseased. Society's untouched, and untouchable. The Dranoch fulfill a role that polite society does not... and perhaps for that reason, people enable them."
