Gugulethu led them into the free African community of the Five Points. The people here were less tense than elsewhere. While there was still noticeable tension in shoulders the people were freer with their smiles and children were openly playing in the streets. Many who turned to regard them did so with a small nod and weary smiles instead of guarded looks and fearful grimaces. Gugulethu seemed to be a well-known figure in the community as she was greeted frequently and stopped for short chats a few times as she led Damian and Catherine to her home. While there was a surprising amount of greenery in the area, Gugulethu’s house had a lot more. The garden around the house contained multiple trees, and countless herbs that seemed to hide the house from street view.
Walking through the garden with a watering can, was an older lady in a white shawl that looked like it repelled dirt. Colorful strings of beads hung from the shawl and gave a pleasant, soothing clacking sound as she moved. She seemed to sense their approach and glanced up. Her eyes locked onto Gugulethu, the older lady set down her watering can and grabbed a staff that was leaning against the house and strode over with haste. She embraced her granddaughter with a tight grip.
“I am so glad you are unharmed dear.” She turned to the duo behind her granddaughter, “Thank you for protecting her. Now young man come with me and we will see what I can do for your injuries.”
Damian shared a confused glance with Catherine before following behind the old woman. Gugulethu gave a fond sigh and explained, “Grandmother is always like this, she has a gift for divination and enjoys confusing people by playing all mysterious.”
A staff came down and bonked the girl on the head, “Quiet Gugu, you know as well as I do that a little mystery and mysticism put the common people at ease when they seek our help. Also don’t ruin my fun girl, I’m old not dead, I need something to amuse myself every now and then.”
Catherine and Damian snorted as the grandmother and granddaughter duo started to bicker back and forth. Gugulethu didn’t seem to notice but the final bits of tension and fear drained from her posture as she fell into a familiar rhythm with her family. The older lady led them into the house and off to a side room that had dried herbs and cooling medicine on workbenches. The old lady sat on a stool and motioned for Damian to sit on the one in front of her.
“Shirt and pants off young man I will need to do an examination to see what all you damaged. Gugu, where do you think you are going? You are to take over for me when I pass, stop being so embarrassed and start learning.”
Gugulethu gave an embarrassed eep and covered her face, while Catherine just smirked and gestured for Damian to give them a good show. Damian rolled his eyes at her and began to undress with zero shame. Well, he tried to but found he couldn’t get his coat off without assistance due to the pain in his ribs. He sheepishly turned to Catherine, who laughed openly as he asked, “A little help please?”
Catherine stepped forward and helped Damian get his coat and shirt off only to wince when she got a good look at the massive section of discolored skin near his ribs. The skin along his ribs were an angry purple and swollen to half again its normal size. Brushing past it caused Damian to wince in pain, but he persisted and took off his jeans leaving him standing in just his boxers.
Catherine gave him a teasing wolf whistle and Gugulethu gave another distressed eep as she peaked between her fingers. The old ingyanga stood and approached, starting her examination. It took about half an hour of her touching, pressing and probing before she was satisfied that she had an accurate idea of what was wrong with him. The whole time she narrated what she was doing and why to her still embarrassed granddaughter.
“All things considered it isn’t too bad, just some severe contusions and intercostal muscle strains. Your legs faired much better just some minor bruising and scrapes from the wood you landed on. Give me second to get some medicine ready for you and we will have you patched up in a few days. I’m curious though what brings members of the MHL to our city?” The old lady said.
“Thanks Doc.” Damian replied, “We were called here by Father Sullivan to help stop whatever is killing some of his partitioners.”
The old lady hummed in thought as she turned around and started gathering various herbs and liquids on her work bench. “Would the victims happen to be male, living or home alone, and seemed to have died of blood loss, strange puncture wounds on their necks?”
Damian and Catherine shared a look. Catherine asked the next few questions, “Yes although the puncture wounds is a new detail. How did you know that? Are there victims in your community? If so, why didn’t the priest tell us?”
The old lady shrugged, “He likely doesn’t know. We have our own rights and traditions for our dead so we don’t often call the undertaker. Also, we have only had two victims who meet that description, some of the older Sangomas set up protections and passed out items to deter unwanted entry into homes after the second death. Since then, we have not had another incident, however the same can’t be said for the members of the Irish community who stick to their older traditions.”
“That’s the first we heard of this. How do you know what’s going on with the other communities?” Catherine asked whipping out her notepad.
The old lady snorted, “Those of us who practice the traditional methods and religions of our peoples tend to form close bonds for protection. As much as the Christian faith has mellowed out in recent centuries there are always a few zealots who would be more than willing to label us heretics and pagans to eradicate us. The Sangomas and Ingyamas of our community meet with the druids of the Celtic practitioners, and the leaders of the German community who practice the Teutonic religion of their ancestors.”
Catherine scribbled into her notepad for a second before asking her next question. “So, the druids mentioned they were having a significant number of victims that fit the patterns of the ones that Father Sullivan told us about?”
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The Ingyama turned back around and approached Damian with a salve and bandages in hand, “In a manner of speaking, yes. From what the druids said while all their victims are young men, not all of them were found in their homes. Some were found in alleyways behind bars or in out of the way places.”
Damian winced as the Ingyama applied her salve and bandaged his injuries. Once the bandages were tied a cooling sensation spread through his torso and legs, relieving the pain he felt. Damian got dressed without needing assistance this time and turned to Catherine. “Well, this just got more complicated.”
“Agreed,” Catherine sighed “this makes finding our culprit harder. If they were just targeting from the Catholic community we would have been able to narrow down potential victims and set an ambush, but with the other communities involved and the druidic community finding victims in random places? I hate it when my cases get complicated, so much extra paper work and bullshite.” Catherine muttered the last bit to herself.
“We will need to get in touch with the druids and the leaders of the Teutonic leaders soon. I think my point from earlier stands though; we don’t have a lead that we can follow.” Damian said as he settled his duster around his shoulders.
Catherine grimaced but conceded the point, “Aye, let’s go find somewhere to stay for the night and wait for tomorrow to see what happens.”
She bid their hosts farewell and led the way out to the street. Damian and Catherine walked in silence for a while each lost in their own thoughts.
“Do you really think Father Sullivan was unaware of the other communities being targeted?” Catherine asked.
“I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt on that. He strikes me as a good man, that would try to help whoever needed it. It seems plausible that he just never heard from the other communities.” Damian answered before falling back into contemplative silence.
Just as Damian was about to speak up again, he received a series of images from Bronze. Pieced together they showed a man in disheveled, ragged clothing skulking into an alley glancing everyway but up, which is how Bronze was able to observe everything, and picking up a letter from a false brick in the wall. He spent a few minutes reading before putting the note back and, after looking around again, hurrying off. Bronze flew down and grabbed the note out of its hidey-hole and was in the process of heading back to Damian.
“Bronze found something. A suspicious man was reading a note in a drop location; Bronze grabbed the note and is bringing it to us.” Damian said.
Catherine fished out her note pad and flipped to a new page, “General description?”
“Not sure of the height as Bronze observed from above, but he was wearing beggar’s rags, torn from wear, hard living and covered in filth. His hair was long, greasy and black, he had pallid white skin. Wasn’t able to get anything else I’m afraid.” Damian said as he held out an arm for Bronze to land on.
Catherine jotted down his description while mumbling to herself as Bronze alighted and held out the note to Damian. Damian opened the note and began to read, it was short and indicated that this arrangement had been going on for a while.
‘MHL Inquisitor team is here, delay for five days before continuing. Start at church this time only one don’t push your luck.’
He passed the note to Catherine and let her read it. “Looks like we found a possible grave robbing ring.”
Catherine gave him a curious look, “What makes you say that?”
“Mostly the dirt on the man’s clothes and the reference to the church. I noticed on our way in there was another church just north of the five points area that had a graveyard, add to that the fact that normal gang activity wouldn’t stop because we show up. We deal with monsters not people and drugs. Still mostly conjecture but given the time period I’m willing to bet on that probability.” Damian laid out his reasoning.
“Fair enough, we can check it out when they plan to start, but for now I want a stiff drink and something to eat.” Catherine replied.
Damian chuckled and they continued in silence until they came to an inn. The innkeeper was all too happy to host them and even waived their fees. Catherine and Damian settled in for the rest of the day, eating and having a few drinks while plying the locals for information. Catherine got the local gossip from the women that entered the inn while Damian played cards with various groups of men. Damian did hear something interesting from one of his new card buddies. The man mentioned strange lights at the local graveyard, making him more invested in staking out the grave robbers.
While neither found anything pertinent to their case, Damian was able to get one piece of interesting news. A new shop had opened recently. One, ‘Mal’s Curios and Oddities at the Crossroads’, apparently the owner was a strange one with horns and strange abilities. Damian had a good idea of who their merchant was and planned to make a visit in the next couple days. As he was about to get up a system message popped up in front of his face.
Damian felt his stomach drop as he stared at the prompt. “FUCK!”
