Simplicia the Slow Part 1
Claudette arranged a very nice cot in her apartment upstairs to hide and also guard the Amulet of Kings. Though I could see Augusta had misgivings about me there, she said nothing. She did, however, give me the occasional "I'm watching you!" look whenever she dropped by, which was often, on the pretense of bringing some food from the Tiber Septim.
Two days passed, and still Vinicia was no closer to discreetly contacting anyone in the Emperor's Secret Service. She just wasn't any good at this subterfuge stuff, and generally too nervous about it all. Besides, security was tightened in the wake of the Emperor's murder, and there was almost a paranoia around anything to do with the Blades or the Emperor. We were pretty sure that any mention of the Amulet of Kings would get us all arrested and interrogated. Besides, we didn't have any plausible story for how we found the Amulet.
I had to do something on my own. Vinicia arranged for clothes with which I could dress down, and I headed out cautiously into the streets to try a different avenue -- the Thieves Guild.
Rumours had it that if the Guild did exist, the beggars were said to be their eyes and ears. The handy part of this was that beggars approach you, and you don't have to come up with any pretext to chat them up.
Simplicia the Slow was a well-known beggar in the Imperial City Market District, and though I was dressed very differently than before and practically no one recognized me, she had a knowing look when she did look up and look me in the eye.
It was the usual line -- her starving children.
The thing about beggars is that they always sound genuine but the fake lines ruin it for everyone. Simplicia slept in one of the small gardens in the Market District, and if anyone had ever seen her starving children, they weren't telling.
Her hard life had withered whatever plain beauty she had and she was definitely not as old as she looked. Now that I had reason to talk to her and paid more attention, I noticed she had very reddish joints.
Her trembling hand was supplicated forward palm up for a coin. I held her hand gently, turned it over, and rubbled her knuckle gently.
Simplicia pulled back immediately with a gasp. She cradled her hand against her but took care not to touch her knuckles, or any part of it.
"You have helljoint," I diagnosed.
It was a painful disease, and I wasn't entirely surprised that she hadn't had it cured. A cure was beyond her means, and her life in squalor could infect her again.
"Aye," she admitted. "That's why I'm called the Slow, doncha know. But don't worry, it's not contagious. I don't think..."
"I can give you something for it, but it looks quite advanced."
"Can ye?"
"Find me tonight," I told her.
She had a hopeful look and gave me a smile.
Now this could go two ways. Either she'd be discreet with her gratitude and help me now and again, or she'd blab it all around and suddenly I'll be swarmed with beggars. I'd have to ask her to keep it quiet.
*
Back at Claudette's (through the back entrance, of course), I got busy with my alchemy set. By evening I had a batch, and put it together with some bread and cheese as a care package for Simplicia.
She found me far too quickly -- she was waiting in the alley, struggling with an orange. Her advanced helljoint meant even using her fingers would be painful, and it was a very sorry sight to see her biting the skin off the orange.
I took it from her and with a small eating knife quickly peeled it and gave her the juicy wedges. She rewarded me with the most genuine teary-eyed smile.
"You followed me?"
She shook her head. "I ask around."
"Can you ask around for me?"
"About what, luv?"
"Well... I need help with getting rid of something... sensitive."
"Uh huh..."
"I need someone well-connected."
"A buyer?"
"Not exactly. In government -- but through the back door."
"Hmm... You'll need the Grey Fox. He's very well connected."
"Not here -- Let's go back to your place."
Simplicia led me by back routes to the corner of the garden where she bedded every night, behind some bushes. We passed the disapproving eyes of a few Imperial Guardsmen, who grunted their disapproval of my charity -- which typically just encourages beggars to be more forward. But they took little notice -- and maybe that was why Simplicia, asking the right people, could find out I was living at Claudette's.
I took out the curatives I'd prepared with Mandrake Root and Elf Cup Cap and explained the prescription to her. One vial she could drink right now. It was strong stuff, but she bravely downed it, and I gave her some juice to help with the aftertaste.
"You should feel some relief by tomorrow," I assured her.
"What sort of 'something' did you need help with?"
"It's complicated -- I need to give it back. Anonymously."
"Well, you won't get far without tellin' what it is, but I can point you in the right direction: Garden of Dareloth. Midnight."
Two days passed, and still Vinicia was no closer to discreetly contacting anyone in the Emperor's Secret Service. She just wasn't any good at this subterfuge stuff, and generally too nervous about it all. Besides, security was tightened in the wake of the Emperor's murder, and there was almost a paranoia around anything to do with the Blades or the Emperor. We were pretty sure that any mention of the Amulet of Kings would get us all arrested and interrogated. Besides, we didn't have any plausible story for how we found the Amulet.
I had to do something on my own. Vinicia arranged for clothes with which I could dress down, and I headed out cautiously into the streets to try a different avenue -- the Thieves Guild.
Rumours had it that if the Guild did exist, the beggars were said to be their eyes and ears. The handy part of this was that beggars approach you, and you don't have to come up with any pretext to chat them up.
Simplicia the Slow was a well-known beggar in the Imperial City Market District, and though I was dressed very differently than before and practically no one recognized me, she had a knowing look when she did look up and look me in the eye.
It was the usual line -- her starving children.
The thing about beggars is that they always sound genuine but the fake lines ruin it for everyone. Simplicia slept in one of the small gardens in the Market District, and if anyone had ever seen her starving children, they weren't telling.
Her hard life had withered whatever plain beauty she had and she was definitely not as old as she looked. Now that I had reason to talk to her and paid more attention, I noticed she had very reddish joints.
Her trembling hand was supplicated forward palm up for a coin. I held her hand gently, turned it over, and rubbled her knuckle gently.
Simplicia pulled back immediately with a gasp. She cradled her hand against her but took care not to touch her knuckles, or any part of it.
"You have helljoint," I diagnosed.
It was a painful disease, and I wasn't entirely surprised that she hadn't had it cured. A cure was beyond her means, and her life in squalor could infect her again.
"Aye," she admitted. "That's why I'm called the Slow, doncha know. But don't worry, it's not contagious. I don't think..."
"I can give you something for it, but it looks quite advanced."
"Can ye?"
"Find me tonight," I told her.
She had a hopeful look and gave me a smile.
Now this could go two ways. Either she'd be discreet with her gratitude and help me now and again, or she'd blab it all around and suddenly I'll be swarmed with beggars. I'd have to ask her to keep it quiet.
*
Back at Claudette's (through the back entrance, of course), I got busy with my alchemy set. By evening I had a batch, and put it together with some bread and cheese as a care package for Simplicia.
She found me far too quickly -- she was waiting in the alley, struggling with an orange. Her advanced helljoint meant even using her fingers would be painful, and it was a very sorry sight to see her biting the skin off the orange.
I took it from her and with a small eating knife quickly peeled it and gave her the juicy wedges. She rewarded me with the most genuine teary-eyed smile.
"You followed me?"
She shook her head. "I ask around."
"Can you ask around for me?"
"About what, luv?"
"Well... I need help with getting rid of something... sensitive."
"Uh huh..."
"I need someone well-connected."
"A buyer?"
"Not exactly. In government -- but through the back door."
"Hmm... You'll need the Grey Fox. He's very well connected."
"Not here -- Let's go back to your place."
Simplicia led me by back routes to the corner of the garden where she bedded every night, behind some bushes. We passed the disapproving eyes of a few Imperial Guardsmen, who grunted their disapproval of my charity -- which typically just encourages beggars to be more forward. But they took little notice -- and maybe that was why Simplicia, asking the right people, could find out I was living at Claudette's.
I took out the curatives I'd prepared with Mandrake Root and Elf Cup Cap and explained the prescription to her. One vial she could drink right now. It was strong stuff, but she bravely downed it, and I gave her some juice to help with the aftertaste.
"You should feel some relief by tomorrow," I assured her.
"What sort of 'something' did you need help with?"
"It's complicated -- I need to give it back. Anonymously."
"Well, you won't get far without tellin' what it is, but I can point you in the right direction: Garden of Dareloth. Midnight."
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