I move to the group of buildings I have in mind with extreme care once I'm up on the roofs. Especially I take great care not to be spotted by the people below. I might be not quite as quick as I could be as a result, but in my opinion its worth it. Not just because my [Stealth] improves a little again either. I'm on the hunt right now. I don't know yet what or rather who I'm hunting, but it befits the huntress to not be spotted when she is on the prowl.

I have a good look around. More importantly though, I listen to what people say too. Especially I listen to the children living around here. During the day most are quite busy helping out their parents, usually as apprentices, or at least looking after younger siblings not yet old enough to start an apprenticeship.

This pays off pretty soon and not just because my [Perception] skill improves some once again either. One of the older girls sports fresh bandages on her forearms. There is an angry red scratch, or rather several parallel scratch marks, running down her face too. She has put some ointment on it, but it still looks bad.

They way the other kids defer to her she might be the boss of a gang of sorts. I can't help it, given what I see she looks suspect. In fact, unless I learn that she is in the habit of wrestling with cats or raccoons in general she is my prime suspect in the case of the missing familiar.

I decide to listen in some more, as she interacts with some of the other youths of the neighborhood while helping out her parents at their shop. They seem to work with leather, but it thankfully isn't a tannery. A little closer inspection reveals that they seem to specialize in bags, packs and pouches with belts added to round out the portfolio.

The parents seem to be a little cross with their daughter too, for getting scratched up like that. Not necessarily because it might mean that she is involved in troublesome activities though, but because she can't work quite as she is supposed to.

That really isn't what catches my interest. A short exchange with a considerably younger boy does though. It happens when the girl takes a short break, to rest her aching arms, despite the misgivings of her parents.

The boy is the apprentice of a local scribe and his hands are covered in ink stains. Plenty of the people around here know their letters, at least in principle, but very few can pen a nice letter or an official document, thus scribes can still make a living. He holds a small scroll of some sort, but the girl shakes her head. Her words come out in a hushed whisper.

"Not now. Once the sun sets. After work. Down in the basement."

The boy just nods and makes the scroll disappear in one of the pockets of his ink stained robe.

I can't help it. She looks more and more suspicious the more I learn about her. It'll be another little while until the sun sets though. I can't just sit around until then. And besides, I don't just want to follow her around. I need to get ahead of her. If she really keeps Captain Whiskers locked up in one of the basements I'd rather break her out before I confront the girl and her little gang. I wince a little at the thought. How will I go about that anyway? I can't just beat them up. In fact I'm not sure I could hold back enough to not kill them. That would be seriously bad.

I could just return to the young witch and her witch mother once I figure out where the cat is, but in my opinion I might as well close this case properly, by returning Captain Whiskers to her home and teaching her captors a lesson and then some.

I decide to keep my eye on the boy for now. I want to know more about that scroll. Thankfully it turns out that getting at him is not nearly as hard as I initially fear. His master has turned his shop essentially into a walk-in stall. It's open to the public and he gets a surprising amount of business too. It's not hard to blend in with the crowd, which earns me another partial increase for my [Stealth] skill.

His young apprentice on the other hand is almost always on his legs, getting fresh paper or parchment, feathers or feather knives and of course freshly prepared ink. The latter at least explains the stains both on his hands and his robe. The boy doesn't get much time to take a break or even just practice his own letters.

I on the other hand have plenty of opportunities to snag the rolled up scroll from his pocket. This in turn helps progress my [Sleight of Hand] skill. Especially as I barely unfurl it long enough to get a good look at what's written on it before slipping it right back where it came from, without the boy ever noticing.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

So far so good. I'm at the right place for sure. The scrolls contents trouble me a little though. It's as I feared. It's a ransom note. Apparently the gang wants a shilling and a bag of some kind of sour candies in exchange for their hostage.

I'm tempted to shake my head as I sneak off to the back alley from where I should have access to the basements of all the surrounding buildings. I actually have to make a conscious effort to not do it. Is it really worth it to upset not one witch but two for such a trivial ransom? How much is a bag of these candies even worth? Two or maybe three silver shillings? Plus the extra shilling mentioned in the note. That one is probably for the girl who is the boss.

I really ought to spank these morons. Except I have no clue if I can without killing any or at least causing permanent harm. How very troublesome. If I don't want to risk it that leaves me only one other option. I might just have to cause some permanent mental trauma. Well, it's not like these little nasty brats have any right to complain. It probably still beats being turned into frogs or whatever by an angry witch. I just hope the witch in question doesn't mind if I take care of this bunch on my own instead of leaving them to her.

First things first though. I still have to free a captive redhead. And before I can free her, I still have to find her too. I don't even know yet in which basement she is being held.

It turns out I don't have to worry about that one question myself at least. A certain old gray battle-hardened veteran brushes past my legs, drawing my attention with a single wave of his tail before heading straight for one narrow flight of stairs leading down to one of the basements in question. Old Gray seems to know what he's doing, which in turn means my investment in recruiting his help is paying off.

I don't actually look around to make sure I'm unobserved, that would be a deeply suspicious move on its own, but I listen carefully for any other activity nearby, before I follow the old tomcat down the stairs. I'm not too worried anyway, since me [Danger Sense] doesn't alert me to any problem either.

The door at the bottom of the stairs isn't locked. I push it open just wide enough for Old Gray and me to slip through. I don't actually need much more wiggle room than he does in that regard. The room beyond the door is dark, but not entirely so. And, more importantly, it smells of fish and not in a pleasant way either.

As the door closes behind me it gets even darker, but I can still see enough to make my way around the basement with its vaulted ceiling without bumping into things all the time.

Thankfully I don't have to search every old crate or barrel. That might have taken a while. Old Gray heads straight towards a barrel that starts to growl and hiss the moment he scratches its outside.

I look down at the scarred, old gray tabby, his eyes glinting back up at me.

"She seems to be in quite a mood."

Old Gray tilts his head, as if he wants to question my mental capacity.

"Right. I would be too, if I were trapped in a smelly old barrel for any length of time."

I turn back to the barrel and try to sound as calm and reassuring as I possibly can. I just hope I don't look too stupid, talking to cats.

"Captain Whiskers, Brygida and her mother hired me to get you out of here. I'd very much appreciate it, I you were not to maul me the same way you did the stupid brat who trapped you in that barrel."

I have no way to tell if she actually understands me, but at least the growling and hissing stops. Only then do I dare to lift the lid of the barrel, which has been secured with several heavy bricks.

Captain Whiskers still looks mighty displeased with her situation and almost starts a brawl with Old Gray as she finally jumps out of the barrel.

My eyes widen, especially as I can hear steps approach from the stairs. My [Perception] skill improves once more too. Have the apprentices gotten off work earlier than expected? Or has more time passed than I thought? Snagging that note from the young scribe without being noticed has taken a while after all.

"Hush you two. Hide. Quick."

Thankfully that is all it takes for the two cats to not start a turf war right now when it's least convenient. Both of them quickly disappear behind other barrels, where the shadows are deepest.

I on the other hand put the lid back on the barrel. The bricks too. Then I move to quietly lean against the wall next to the door, where a number of long, oil cloth rain coats hang from a rack. These obscure me nicely for the better part, especially in the bad lighting down here.

It's indeed the culprits that file in, one after the other, the bandaged girl in the lead, followed directly by the scribe boy. After him follow two girls, twins, by their looks, that smell of hot iron. They probably are from the smithy at the corner. Another boy, not the oldest, but possibly the biggest of the bunch, brings up the rear. He is the only one with a lantern. A very simple candle lantern with open sides.

I don't even bother to try and hide the wicked grin that forms on my lips as an idea comes to me. I lean in a little closer and blow out the candle, while the door falls closed behind the little group once more at the same time. The timing is almost perfect!

"Well, well, well, you little quackers. Tell me, are you afraid of the dark?"

The massive boy with the now extinguished lantern almost faints, as I speak up right next to him. My [Intimidate] skill improves a notch in response. The others whirl around, but in the almost complete dark they can't really spot me, as my form is still being obscured by the rain coats.

I have to fight not to laugh as I continue.

"Well, let me reassure you. You stupid quackers don't need to fear the dark. You need to fear what is in here with you instead."

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