I woke up groggy and sore. I drank the water on the table with a mental thanks to Scott and forced myself up. After some stretches and messaging my stiff muscles, I felt a bit more human. Down in the common room, a dozen or so testers were eating breakfast. I ordered some eggs and bacon then went over to Jim’s booth.

“Morning,” Jim said with a smile as I flopped down across from him.

“Hey Jim. What time is it?” I asked.

He set his quill down next to a stack of papers and checked his pocket watch. “9:50,” he said before sipping his black coffee.

I winced. Hopefully missing morning mass wouldn’t hurt my reputation with the Archbishop. Seeing my face, Jim passed me a mug and carafe. “Sarah and Bill should be here pretty soon,” he said.

I nodded and poured myself some coffee. I vaguely remembered agreeing to meet and discuss our plans for today. Jim shook his head as I added sugar to my coffee, but didn’t say anything.

My food came and Jim went back to his papers. The scrambled eggs were plain, but good. The thick slices of ham were delicious. I would hardly call them bacon though. I sipped my coffee as I watched the other testers. Some left alone, some in small groups. Presumably they were off to work on their own main quests.

Scott joined us with a nod and a quiet greeting. I watched in idle fascination as the thin man devoured a copious amount of toast, eggs, and ham. When he finished, he handed me a packet of fine powder.

“Paracetamol,” he explained when I gave him a questioning look. “Won’t do much for a lost limb, but should help with headaches and minor wounds.”

“They have that in 1845?” I asked skeptically.

He muttered something about coal tar and nitration, but I didn’t really follow. I offered to pay him for his trouble, but he waved me off. I would have to buy him a drink next time. Two, since I owed him for making sure I stayed hydrated last night.

Sarah arrived a minute or two ahead of Ajax. They both ordered food and joined us. Sarah seemed her normal cheerful self, but Ajax seemed a bit worse for wear from the night of drinking.

After exchanging pleasantries, the conversation turned to how to proceed with our quests. Sarah was still convinced that the answers she needed were at the heart of the Old City. Going there would also provide much needed experience and currency.

On the other hand, we now had more information about the Killer. How we could actually use that information I was less sure about. We had a description, but it’s not like we had a database to compare against. We also had the chemicals from the crime scene.

It was Scott that realized how that could help us. It stood to reason that the killer was getting his supplies from somewhere and since we just destroyed his tools, he might need to restock sooner rather than later. The Plague Doctor agreed to talk to his contacts in the Alchemist Guild and get us a list of suppliers.

Ajax wanted to dig into the cloth merchant’s history. It clearly hadn’t been human, so maybe its history would give clues as to where it came from.

Sarah, since it seemed our expeditions were on hold for the moment, agreed to research my description of the creature. Apparently the library had a huge section on the monster population of the world.

I decided to look into the alchemical suppliers once Scott came up with a list. That left me with a few hours free to take care of some chores. We left the Bitter Flagon and separated. We would meet back in time for dinner to discuss what we learned.

Outside was blinding after the darkened bar, forcing me to squint. The sun beat down mercilessly and I felt a headache start to form. Of course today of all days would be the one to finally have clear skies. I took a small amount of the paracetamol and choked it down a swig of water.

I headed to an armorer curate Ben had recommended. Apparently the armorer worked for the church often and would give discounts. The old man behind the counter greeted me dourly, but cheered up considerably when I introduced myself as an Inquisitor.

I explained what I needed, setting my chainmail, sword, and small disk of amethyst on the table. The armorer put his apprentice on attaching a new sleeve to my mail while he inspected the sword and gem. After a moment's consideration, he placed the gem on the sword’s pommel and tapped it gently with a jeweler's hammer. With each light tap the stone sank into pommel as if it were mud instead of solid steel.

While I waited I leaned against a table full of shields and pulled out my journal. Drunk Will had made some impulsive skill choices, but not wrong ones. My multi-weapon fighting style had served me well so far, and the Multi-Weapon Chain skill played into that nicely.

Precision Push allowed me to narrow the focus of my push spell. Hopefully that would make the spell more viable in combat. As it was, I just didn’t have enough intelligence to give the spell kick. If I had maxed intelligence back at character creation, I bet the spell would be able to pick up and toss people.

Eventually I would want to make my force shield last longer and have a shorter cooldown, but that could wait a while. Ideally I could get to the point where I could have the shield up continuously. Until then, I would make do with a conventional backup.Speaking of which, I grabbed a buckler from the display and set it on the counter to get rung up with my other purchases.

Martial and Magic trees inspected, I flipped to the Utility skill tree. I hadn’t picked a skill from here last night, so I still had a decision to make. I had two new skills to choose from.

More for Your Money: When buying goods or services, you know how to get the most out of your coin. Receive a %15 discount on all purchased goods and standard services.

Golden Loyalty: Your coin glitters just a bit more brightly than the next guy’s. When purchasing a good or service, that contract will be maintained even in the face of opposition. The bounty hunter you hired won’t accept a bribe to let the quarry go, the swordsmith you commissioned won’t sell to a higher bidder, and the carpenter will prioritise your house above other jobs. Can be overcome by extreme circumstances (such as in the face of mortal peril). This skill does not affect player characters.

I was actually pretty impressed with the options. They both seemed fairly strong. Considering how I burned through money, a %15 discount would add up quickly. I had gotten by so far on what we scavenged from the Old City, but with this skill I could probably start saving for some of the magical armor I saw on display.

As for Golden Loyalty, I doubted Roach and his crew would betray us, but it would be nice to have the assurance. Especially if we started hiring people for more dangerous jobs. I hadn’t given much thought to hiring mercenaries, but the idea of having my own army to swing around was appealing.

I decided to go with Golden Loyalty. I am sure I would get both eventually, but I liked the peace of mind the second skill brought. The last thing I wanted was to miss a chance at the Decoction Killer because a lookout got bought off.

The repairs, augment installation, and new buckler all together cost me just over one pound. That left me with only two pounds and some change. Not ideal, but we could always make more money.

The amethyst augment made my shamshir glow a slight purple color, but besides that, I couldn’t tell any difference. When we got back to the Old City, I would test it thoroughly.

Chores taken care of, I bought a cup of coffee from a street vendor in a small park. I had just gotten it to the right amount of sugar, way more than was healthy, when a messenger arrived.

The slip of paper had three company names with their associated addresses. Going from the names, I assumed this was the list of suppliers Scott had promised. I got directions from the coffee vendor and left for the closest.

I got lucky with the first shop. The proprietor of Alche-Medical Supply, a woman with frizzy white hair and round glasses, was more than happy to help me. Apparently the Decoction Killer was bad for business. ‘Gave Alchemy a bad name’ as she put it.

She gladly identified the two flasks of chemicals I took from the abandoned church and speculated on the two the killer had thrown at me. The poison was exactly as Scott had said yesterday, but she was able to expand on the side effects of the rage potion. When ingested it would not only bolster strength and constitution, but also prevent speech and produce a massive amount of adrenaline.

I had her write down the names of the chemicals as well as her best guesses as to the numbing agent and acid the killer had used. Then I asked her for a list of any customers that had purchased large amounts of any of the chemicals over the last month.

When I asked about the tools the killer had used, the shop owner explained that the flask and tongs could be from anywhere, but only a specialist supplier would have the heat source. The ‘elemental burners’ were quite expensive and limited in supply.

She agreed to contact me if a person matching the killer’s description came in or if someone made a suspicious order. As far as she was concerned, the sooner the killer was caught, the sooner people would go back to trusting alchemy.

In high spirits, I made my way to the second store. The merchant here was more cagey. He kept trying to sell me a bulk order of some combat drug. He insisted it would ‘boost the power of my arm and body tenfold.’ When I finally convinced him to part with a copy of his purchase history, I was four shillings lighter. For the promise of another four shillings, I convinced him to tip us off if he got a suspicious order. Payment only on tips that pan out of course. I didn’t want the greedy shopkeeper to send a runner for every customer that walked through his door.

The last supplier was less helpful than either of the other two. The stodgy old man just kept saying he had to protect customer confidentiality. I tried to persuade him by explaining the importance of catching the killer. When that didn’t work I tried to appeal to his sense of patriotism and citizenship. I might as well have been talking to a sour faced wall. He almost seemed moved when I brought up the church and his responsibility as a Christian, but didn’t crack. Lastly, in desperation, I offered him money. He seemed a lot less influenceable than the previous shop, so I wasn’t surprised when he turned me down.

After my third bribe attempt, he asked me to leave. Feeling like a failure, I did. I would have to talk to Ajax and figure something out. If the killer ordered from the last shop we would never notice. We could be canvassing the first two for days without even knowing he had slipped by us.

With nothing left to do, I headed back to the Bitter Flagon. My errands had only taken a few hours, so I still had time to kill. I got some lunch, then went over to Jim to see if I could make myself useful.

I spent the next few hours helping Jim with paperwork. He was writing up a ‘wrongful dismissal’ lawsuit for Eva, the Harlequin that punched her sexist boss. I didn’t see how much of a case they had, considering she had knocked out a few teeth, but Jim assured me the troupe would settle before going to court. It was all over my head, but I could help by organizing papers and looking up passages in the few leather-bound tomes Jim had set out.

When Ajax finally arrived I excused myself with relief. Paperwork was almost as painful as getting chewed to death. Almost. Ajax greeted me with a tired smile, and we ordered some dinner.

I explained how things went with the alchemical suppliers over an excellent stew and mashed potatoes. When I finished Ajax chewed his lip for a minute.

“I wonder if I could get a warrant for the alchemist’s records. We would have to comb through them ourselves, but at least we wouldn’t be missing anything,” he said.

“You think they would give you a warrant for that when they didn’t for the track?” I asked, skeptical.

“This is more specific and directly related to the killer. They might go for it,” he said. “Worst case, we could break in and steal them.”

I was surprised by the idea, but in hindsight it made perfect sense. Stealing had been a staple in role playing games since way back. “Do you have proficiency in lockpicking?” I asked. We might be able to get in without, but it would help.

“Of course,” Ajax scoffed. “It was the second proficiency I took, right after pistols.”

When that topic petered out, Ajax explained what he found out about the cloth merchant.

“Moved to London ten years ago, married, two kids. He was just an average guy, nothing to suggest that he was actually a razor-toothed monster,” he said. “On the wealthier side, no connections to the other victims that I could find. Except for the track that is. He went to almost every race. Plenty of gambling, but he must have won often enough to not go into debt.”

“Roach said he got a pouch from the track even though he lost. Were they paying him off for something?” I wondered.

Ajax just shrugged. Another mystery to add to the pile.

Eventually, Sarah joined us. We filled her in on our findings while she ate dinner. When finished, she excitedly relayed the information she had dredged up from the library records.

“There were hundreds of beasties that could be related, but no exact matches. I found two that sort of fit your description,” Sarah explained like a school teacher giving a lecture.

“The first is a Mordaunt,” she said and slid over an illustration of a frail man with sunken eyes. “It’s a type of lesser undead that feeds off and controls a living host. It’s more spirit than corporal though, so I doubt it could make the body modifications you described.”

“The second creature is a Milladen.” This time she passed over a drawing of a pride of lions. They would have looked normal except that each muzzle was replaced by a circular hole filled with teeth. “They lived in Africa, devouring everything they came across, before being hunted to extinction.”

“Creepy,” I said, examining the picture. “But I don’t see how they are related to what killed me.”

“That’s the thing,” Sarah explained. “The stories say that the Milladen reproduced by capturing other lions and laying eggs in their throat. When the eggs hatched the parasite would replace the digestive tract and take over the brain.”

“So the lion is just a host, like with the Mordaunt,” Ajax said, catching on.

“Right, so if a Milladen was to infect a human host instead…” she trailed off.

“It might look like a cloth merchant with a few thousand extra teeth,” I finished.