Omen 103: The Fires of Industry
Transcript & Credits
Narrator: Omen is intended for an adult audience. The story explores mature themes and contains instances of dramatized violence. Full transcripts of each episode can be viewed at omen cast dot com.
SCENE 1
[[SFX: night ambiance, cell door opening, walking, cell door closing]]
Quent: [[angry]] Are you serious? I cannot believe you!
Lewin: [[sigh]] Good evening, all. [[under breath]] I trust your… ah, meeting went well?
Quent: Really!? You're asking about that right now?
Toby: It was more of a confession than a meeting.
Gwen: [[harried]] Really, you two! Professor, are you alright? What happened?
Lewin: Oh there's no need to worry about me, Gwendolyn. And as far as what happened, well… apparently, operating hours at the real estate offices are much stricter than I had imagined.
Quent: [[frustrated]] Breaking and entering? What were you thinking?
Lewin: Please try and calm yourself, Quentin. I've been charged with simple trespassing--nothing so pedestrian as larceny. I had a key at the time.
Gwen: Oh! Then this is all just a silly misunderstanding?
Lewin: [[sheepish]] Ah, well… the key wasn't exactly mine to use, you see.
Toby: [[amused]] Hold on. Are you saying you lifted it off someone?
Lewin: [[offended]] Please, Tobias. I had an arrangement with Auditor Stumbletoe to lock up after I was finished for the afternoon. Womanurally, I was meant to return it to him in the morning.
Quent: [[skeptical]] I'm still waiting for the catch.
Lewin: [[testy]] Obviously, I made an error in judgment showing myself back in a half an hour later. I had simply forgotten to return a ledger to its proper place. It's quite unfortunate that my forgetfulness has gotten Sigismund in such hot water. I suspect he won't be speaking to me for some time.
Gwen: So… you were arrested just for that?
Lewin: [[sheepish]] Well… there was the rather embarrassing circumstance of being discovered by a passing watchman… in the private holdings section.
Toby: [[gleeful]] Ha! I knew it! So what did you find out about Mal--
Lewin: [[interrupting]] I beg your pardon, young master Porte, but I'd hate for you to labor under the misconception that I let myself into that room.
Quent: [[flatly]] Safe-deposit vault, you mean.
Lewin: [[frustrated]] I've already explained this to the guards! I noticed the padlock was unlatched and was simply trying to secure it. But the damned thing slipped off and rolled down my arm!
Toby: [[amused]] Could've happened to anybody, really.
Quent: [[sardonic]] Oh yes, very reasonable. I'm surprised they still decided to lock you up after hearing that explanation.
Gwen: Don't worry, Professor. I'm more than happy to cover your bail so we can get all of this cleared up.
Lewin: [[hurried]] Oh that won't be necessary, my dear. I wouldn't dream of burdening you.
Gwen: It's nothing, really. I'll just talk to the--
Lewin: [[interrupting]] Please, Gwendolyn. Being locked away like some common criminal has been mortifying enough. [[gentler]] I do appreciate the gesture, but I'd much rather salvage what little pride I have left by settling my own legal affairs. Thank you, though.
Quent: [[sigh]] How long are they holding you?
Lewin: Until tomorrow, I'd imagine. Hopefully it will only take the Lieutenant's men a few hours to confirm that nothing was taken. By the way, does anyone have the time?
Quent: It's about quarter to eight. Why?
Lewin: I imagine Hosetter is wondering about his dinner. Would you be so kind as to feed him for me?
Toby: [[impatient]] Alright, enough with the pleasantries. We have things to discuss. In particular, my theories pertaining to certain suspicious locals.
Gwen: Oh, that's right! Professor, do you know of anyone besides yourself who would have seen Olivia Temperance leaving during yesterday's council meeting?
Lewin: [[sigh]] Even if other councilmembers refuted her being there, assistants and scribes can come and go at their employers' whim. I've already checked and Temperance's name is on the official roster. I'm afraid that's evidence enough in this instance.
Toby: Why are you all still banging on about that walking stalagmite? I thought we were already way past her.
Gwen: You don't think Olivia Temperance had anything to do with this?
Toby: [[dismissive]] Oh, no--you're probably right about her, Gwen. But whoever pulled the trigger yesterday is only a small piece of a bigger puzzle. [[serious]] It's time to start tracing the puppet's strings back to the real culprit.
Quent: [[scoffs]] What, you mean Malik? She's been nothing but helpful so far.
Gwen: It does seem as though she's been doing everything in her power to solve this mystery for us.
Toby: Concerning her precious family shack, maybe. But Malik definitely knows more about the murder than she's letting on.
Lewin: Excellent! I knew I could count on you all! What did you learn?
Toby: Well for one, Malik is most likely in bed with Alkenstar. And not just as a customer.
Lewin: Interesting… And you can prove this?
Toby: I have a hunch about her blasting powder blend. I'll have to run a few experiments first. But I mean, come on! Who else but the nation that invented firearms could have manufactured our "mystery musket"?
Quent: I don't know… nothing in Malik's collection came close to what we saw yesterday. The distance, the accuracy, the force… and I don't remember seeing any smoke, either. I still say it could have been some powerful spell.
Toby: [[condescending]] Please, Quent. Leave the thinking to the experts here. Gwen, you're into magic. Remind this lunkhead of your thoughts on the already thoroughly debunked "abra cadabra" theory.
Gwen: [[scolding]] You be nice to Quentin. And no, I haven't entirely ruled out the use of arcane energy, despite the lack of any lingering auras. I'm starting to think you're being rather obsessive about Malik as well. A wealthy gun collector does seem a bit on the nose, don't you think?
Toby: [[annoyed]] Oh, I'm the one being obsessive now?
Gwen: [[hurriedly]] I mean yes, we both have our own… strong opinions about who kidnapped Hannah, but--
Toby: [[interrupting]] Hannah Nesmith!? You still think we're looking for a little girl?
Gwen: What do you mean? Of course we are! [[determined]] I promised her father we would, and that's what we're going to do!
Toby: [[frustrated]] Gwen, Malik is smuggling weapons into Almas that can liquify your brains from three blocks away! I think that's a wee bit more pressing than some random kidnapping.
Quent: Okay--that's a baseless allegation against Malik and you know it. And you've just decided that the murder and the warehouse aren't linked anymore?
Toby: Not by the Nesmith girl, no. I thought that was a given by now.
Gwen: But what about Temperance? She was at both scenes, after all.
Quent: [[authoritative]] Unsubstantiated, Gwen. A random tipoff and a gut feeling isn't evidence.
Toby: For once, I agree with Quent. That connection just seems too convenient.
Lewin: Tobias, surely it couldn't just be a… coincidence that Malik is linked to both instances?
Toby: Sure it can. She owns a lot of property in town. [[pressing]] Which is exactly why you need to tell us what you found at the--
Lewin: [[interrupting]] I think I've already been rather clear about all that. I did not intentionally break into the private holdings section, nor was I trying to access anything other than readily available public records.
Gwen: [[confused]] Wait… why are you so interested in Malik's properties, Toby?
Quent: [[sigh]] He thinks he's going to find some secret stockpile of magical guns.
Toby: [[determined]] You're damn right I am! That is, if your uncle stops being so infuriatingly tight-lipped. What happened to "nosing around for secrets", huh?
Lewin: [[annoyed]] If you're quite done loudly implicating me, Tobias… [[pointed]] I think it would be best not to be so… pig headed at the moment.
Toby: [[perplexed]] Umm… okay? And how exactly is that me right now?
Lewin: [[cryptic]] I'm sorry, but you can't just barrel in here and sow discord like this.
Quent: Uhh… are you feeling alright, Uncle Lewin?
Lewin: [[sigh]] [[under breath]] Listen to me carefully, all of you. Even if I did know of any information that could aid you, I wouldn't be able to tell you without compromising the integrity of your case.
Gwen: Right, I'm lost. Does that mean you did find something and can't talk about it or… oh! I think I just answered myself!
Quent: [[frustrated]] Alright. Enough with the guessing games. What are you trying to say you found at the real estate office?
Lewin: [[purposeful]] What I'm saying, dear boy, is it's a good thing I didn't discover something. Because if I had, sharing such knowledge would be akin to casting gold before swine.
Toby: Right. A cryptograph involving pigs. We get it.
Gwen: I actually don't understand yet. But don't worry, Professor. Once you're set free tomorrow, we can have a proper sit down about all of this.
[[SFX: door opening, jogging from a distance]]
Lewin: [[worried]] You don't understand. This can't wait until tomorrow--
Guard: [[interrupting, hurried]] Hey! You three! All hands on deck down at that old Pepperbox warehouse.
Quent: Why? What's going on?
Guard: [[hurried]] Drakeheel's calling everyone in. The damned building caught fire! Come on!
[[SFX: running]]
Toby: [[horrified]] What!? No, no, no, no, NO! That's our evidence!
Quent: [[sigh]] Wonderful. Sit tight, Uncle. This conversation isn't over. Come on, Gwen.
Gwen: [[calling over her shoulder]] Sorry, Professor! We'll be back!
[[SFX: running, cell door closing]]
Lewin: [[calling]] Just go! And be careful! [[worried, to himself]] Aroden preserve us all.
[[SFX: OMEN MAIN THEME]]
SCENE 2
[[SFX: bell ringing, flames, people shouting]]
Drakeheel: [[shouting]] It's no use! Just concentrate on dousing the neighboring roofs! We have to keep the blaze from spreading!
[[SFX: running]]
Quent: [out of breath] Chief! What happened?
Drakeheel: [[cranky]] Charthagnion! I sent for your team half an hour ago!
Toby: [[confrontational]] Yeah, and two hours ago you had us brought in for questioning. So why don't you just answer the man and tell us what in Hell happened?
Drakeheel: You listen close, Thomas! You're--
Toby: It's Tobias.
Drakeheel: Whatever! The only reason you're even standing here is because half of our boots are up north. You keep flapping your gums like that and I'll kick you off the Nesmith case as well.
Gwen: Lieutenant, I… wait what do you mean "as well"?
Drakeheel: You signed up to find the girl, didn't you? Call me crazy, but I don't think that includes chasing after assassins or getting half the city burned down. I'm shipping both the anonymous homicide and this arson over to the Lodge.
Toby: [[furious]] What!? Why you--
Quent: [[interrupting]] What my friend here is trying to say, Chief, is that these are local incidents--most likely with local players. Is hiring some random Pathfinders really the best option?
Drakeheel: That's no longer any of your concern, Charthagnion. Right now, I'd be more worried about who you've been talking to.
Gwen: [[offended scoff]] Surely you don't think we're responsible for this fire?
Toby: [[impatient]] Forget the fire! Tell me somebody thought to recover the evidence from that basement--anything!
Drakeheel: [[sigh]] The basement was the evidence, kid.
Toby: [[angry, demanding]] Idiots! Who locked up last? How many guards were watching the building? Who was on night watch? I want names!
Drakeheel: [[annoyed]] Charthagnion, either keep your team in line or the only thing you'll all be investigating is the bottom of the Aerie latrines.
Quent: Sorry, chief. [[pointed]] It won't happen again.
Drakeheel: Good. Now that we're finally past all the hysterics, I think it's time you three started answering some questions. Who did you tell about this warehouse?
Quent: We only ever spoke with my Uncle Lewin and Minister Malik. As you know, they both have solid alibis.
Gwen: Hold on. You believe someone with knowledge of the case did this?
Drakeheel: [[frustrated]] This whole mess was supposed to stay quiet. For all we know, that damned magic circle you found could have started the fire. [[sigh]] But there are just too many coincidences for all that… among other things.
Gwen: Coincidences? What do you mean?
Drakeheel: [[no-nonsense]] I'm the one asking the questions here, frills. Now listen up. Do any of you clowns remember hearing anyone else talk about this place… or what was downstairs?
Quent: You mean from someone down at the Aerie?
Drakeheel: I mean from anywhere.
Quent: [[uncertain]] Nnno? That is, Malik gave us a short history of the building, but--
Drakeheel: [[interrupting]] Did anyone around you mention something about a specialist from Augustana?
Toby: [[amused]] Wait… really? What kind of specialist?
Drakeheel: [[annoyed]] Did you hear anything or not?
Quent: I think we'd remember something like that, Chief.
Toby: [[amused]] Just a second. You're telling me the Aerie had to call someone in from out of town? Just for this case?
Drakeheel: I'm not playing this game right now, kid. That's restricted information… for active investigators only.
Gwen: Please, Lieutenant. We may still be able to help. Is there anything else about this specialist you can share with us? Anything at all?
[[SFX: horse whinnies, carriage rolls to a stop]]
Drakeheel: [[crabby]] Absolutely not. Now unless you three are itching for an official demerit, I suggest you each grab a bucket and help to-- [[exasperated]] Oh, great.
[[carriage door opens and slams shut]]
Malik: [[interrupting, calling]] Well, well! Isn't this just so very… fitting--Lieutenant-Commander Rupert Drakeheel silhouetted against the flaming ruin of my property! And I see your "lead investigators" are here as well!
[[brisk walking approaches]]
Toby: Oh, this should be good!
Drakeheel: [[hurried]] Alright, you three are dismissed. Get going.
Quent: [[nervous]] Yeah, that's probably a good idea.
Malik: [[stern]] Stay where you are--all of you. You sad lot may be largely useless, but I suspect one or two of you may have information that's worth a damn.
Drakeheel: I'm sorry, Minister, but it isn't safe here--
Malik: [[interrupting]] Yes--you have much to apologize for tonight, Rupert. Overseeing an illegal search and seizure, wasting my time with endless questioning, insulting my staff with wild accusations. And now this spectacular new failure of yours--which, I might add, could have easily been avoided.
Drakeheel: We did everything we possibly could to--
Malik: [[interrupting]] Don't you lie to me! This very morning I warned you these people would attempt to destroy the evidence! But no. You insisted there was "no room for sellswords."
Drakeheel: I can't just deputize a bunch of your private mercenaries, Minister. You know this is a matter of the state.
Malik: And yet it wasn't the state that cost me everything. It was you, Rupert. You and your department's incompetence.
Drakeheel: I had my best people working around the clock to--
Malik: [[interrupting]] Two guards!? That's the best your pathetic department could muster to protect my family's legacy?
Drakeheel: They were covering both entrances on a rotation. The others assigned to the case were busy making inquiries. Having everyone standing around here twiddling their thumbs wouldn't have helped any.
Malik: I'll be the judge of that. What did your so-called "guards" report as the cause of the fire?
Drakeheel: I'm afraid that's restricted information.
Malik: [[angry]] That's my bloody warehouse burning down over there! I'm well within my rights to know of any developments!
Drakeheel: Look--we're still trying to understand what happened. We're not even sure there's any foul play involved. So you'll just have to be--
Malik: [[interrupting]] Your position is appointed by Mayor Codwin, is it not? Perhaps I should stop by his office tomorrow morning to discuss your performance in greater detail? I'm sure General Traxxus and the Commander would be interested to hear of your progress as well.
Drakeheel: [[frustrated]] Fine. You didn't hear this from me--none of you heard this from me--but… one of my watchmen reported being relieved early.
Malik: By whom, Rupert?
Drakeheel: We don't know. They've gone through the entire constabulary roster and the watchman hasn't even been able to identify anyone. In fact, he can't seem to remember anything about this mystery guard-- height, build, complexion… he couldn't even recall their ancestry.
Quent: I thought relieving a watchman at an active crime scene required your authorization or higher.
Drakeheel: It does. And I certainly didn't pass down any such order. The remaining watchman reported smoke and flames coming from the basement stairwell about half an hour later. He didn't see anyone leaving the building and there was no sign of breaking and entering.
Malik: [[sardonic]] Our taxpayer gold hard at work. Take me to these "watchmen" of yours. I need to have a word with each of them.
Drakeheel: Look, I understand the position you're in. And I appreciate your cooperation with the Aerie. But my men's reports are still under deliberation and there's a lot more going on here than simple arson.
Malik: [[mocking]] Hence this mysterious "specialist" that you're bringing in from Augustana?
Drakeheel: [[surprised]] What? How did you know?
Malik: Oh please, Rupert. It's hardly a secret you had to run crying to the Inquisitor Order for help. My sources at the Golden Cathedral told me your diviners weren't even able to detect which plane was breached by that damned ritual.
Gwen: [[suddenly]] Oh! I was wondering the same thing, actually! [[sheepish]] Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. It's just… I've never seen anything like it before.
Malik: [[dismissive]] Trust me, girl. If you've seen one summoning circle, you've seen them all.
Gwen: Calling diagram, actually. And usually it's quite simple to detect where it was calling, so to speak. The lingering magical auras give it away.
Drakeheel: Alright, that's enough out of you--
Malik: [[interrupting]] Quiet, Rupert. Go on, Miss Gainsborough. Which plane were you able to detect during your unwarranted search?
Gwen: Well, that's just it. It was pointing… here.
Malik: [[impatient]] Here? What are you talking about?
Gwen: I mean "here" as in… our reality. The Material Plane. I've just never seen a calling diagram directed inward on itself like that.
Toby: Umm… is that even possible?
Gwen: I have no idea! I thought the whole point was to make contact with another plane.
Quent: Gwen, why didn't you mention this earlier?
Gwen: I thought I had made a mistake, honestly. If I didn't know it was a binding ritual, I might have mistook the aura for a simple teleportation spell.
Malik: This is all very fascinating, I'm sure. But it's a bit late to be discussing magical theory. Now, are you going to be taking me to these so-called "guards", Rupert, or do I have to shake them down one by one?
Drakeheel: [[stubborn]] I thought I was clear that isn't going to happen, Minister. I've already told you everything we know so far.
Malik: You'll have to forgive me if my confidence in your word isn't exactly unflappable. Now, stop this silly stonewalling and lead the way.
Drakeheel: No, Minister. You're not harassing my men. That is my job.
Malik: [[ominous]] Take me to them now, Rupert, or you may not have a job this fall. Elections are just around the corner, after all.
Drakeheel: [[stern]] I think it's time for you to be on your way, Minister. We'll be sure to inform you of any new developments.
Malik: [[furious]] How dare you presume to evict me from my own damned property! Who in Hell do you think you--
Drakeheel: [[interrupting]] That's enough, Asema. Please vacate the premises or I'll have you escorted off.
Malik: [[threatening]] I sincerely hope you haven't made a very big mistake, "Lieutenant".
[[SFX: brisk walking]]
Malik: [[calling]] Your department will be hearing from my attorneys. Soon.
Drakeheel: [[calling, annoyed]] Good night, Minister.
[[SFX: carriage door slams shut, horse and carriage drive away]]
Toby: [[impressed]] Ho ho! Nicely done, Drakeheel!
Gwen: Goodness! That escalated rather quickly, didn't it?
Drakeheel: I don't suppose you three have anything new to report on the Nesmith job?
Quentin: Until recently, we thought this was the Nesmith job, Chief.
Toby: Seems to me like you can't really afford to kick us off this arson case.
Drakeheel: [[frustrated]] I don't have a choice. The inquisitor is already on their way from Augustana, and there's not much any of us can do until they arrive. Don't tell anyone about that, by the way. I may call you lot back in if they don't find anything. So stay close by… but avoid Asema Malik like the demonplague, do you understand?
Quentin: Perfectly.
Drakeheel: Good. Now get going. The fire brigade needs more hands hauling water and I've got a mountain of paperwork to get started on.
Gwen: [[realization]] Oh! One more thing, Lieutenant?
Drakeheel: [[impatient]] Make it quick, frills.
Gwen: This may seem strange… I mean, not nearly as strange as faceless guards or inverted calling diagrams and all that, but--
Drakeheel: [[crabby]] What part of "quick" don't you understand?
Gwen: Right, sorry. You wouldn't happen to know any place in Almas that specializes in… pigs, do you?
Quent: [[nervous]] Uhh… Gwen? Not the best time.
Drakeheel: What, you've never heard of a butcher shop?
Gwen: I mean, yes but… there wouldn't happen to be one in town that deals… exclusively in pork?
Drakeheel: [[suspicious]] Not that I know of. Why? Does this have something to do with the Nesmith case?
Toby: [[hurriedly]] Gwen, I told you we'd get streaky rashers in the morning! Stop bothering the Chief with your silly tourist questions!
Gwen: What? I just thought I'd ask!
Drakeheel: [[tired]] Hrm. Well after tonight, the only pig I want to see is a hogshead of port. You lot are dismissed. We'll be in touch.
[[SFX: walking]]
Quent: Sure thing, Chief! Good night! [[under breath]] What are you doing, Gwen? My uncle's in enough trouble as it is!
Gwen: Sorry! I thought maybe the Lieutenant would be able to shed some light on his crypto… riddle thingy.
Toby: Hogshead… What was it Perseus said? "You can't just barrel in here?" Quent, wasn't there some old barrel manufacturer in Smithtown?
Quent: Uhh… yeah, actually. Hogshead Cask and Crate, I think it was called. But that place got shut down when I was just a… [[realization]] Hold on! You don't think--?
Toby: [[grinning]] Oh, I do. I very much do think!
Gwen: [[smug]] Ha! Good thing one of us asks silly questions!
Quent: But what does my uncle think that old assembly plant has to do with anything? It was bought out years ago and never reopened.
Toby: And I'll give you one guess as to who owns it now.
Gwen: Oh, but this is exciting! [[disappointed]] Though… I suppose we'll need a warrant or something first, won't we Quentin?
Quent: Normally, yes. But we've lost so much evidence already on this wild goose chase. And subpoenas are just going to get my uncle in more trouble.
Toby: They say it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, Quent.
Quent: Hrm. Well… I guess I can make an exception just this once.
Gwen: That's the spirit, Quentin!
Quent: Just don't make me regret this, okay?
Toby: Pff. Regrets are for our future selves to worry about.
[[SFX: TRANSITION MUSIC]]
SCENE 3
[[SFX: crickets, horse and wagon rolling off, metal gate closing]]
Dwarf 1: That the last shipment for the night?
Dwarf 2: Aye. So I suppose you're fixin' for a pint now, eh?
Dwarf 1: Thinkin' about it, aye. Pisswater or not, the Dented Helm's better than playin' cards with your crabbit arse all night.
Dwarf 2: Hmph. Better bored than dead, matey. You'd think Leatherbane's little excursion might have taught you that by now.
Dwarf 1: There's a marked difference between being a drunk and being an idiot.
Dwarf 2: It's your funeral if you're not back by morning. The boss has been taking up residence again.
Dwarf 1: Oh, bloody Hell. We're gettin' reassigned, aren't we?
Dwarf 2: What, you wanna stay in this pissant town forever? I don't know about you, but I'm damn well ready for a change of scenery.
Dwarf 1: We've already been stuck here three months longer than we were meant to. I thought we'd be shovin' off for home before long.
Dwarf 2: [[chuckles]] Home? You really are daft aren't you? What do you think we've been doing here? Filling orders?
Dwarf 1: I thought we were doing the same as the other teams. Which leaves me wondering what's left to do.
Dwarf 2: Ah, don't you worry about that. The bean counters got some new "secret project" over in Taldor.
Dwarf 1: I thought we already got a crew up in Maheto.
Dwarf 2: Which is why we ain't going there. Trust me--if I'm right, you're gonna want in on this job. At least you know the pay will be good.
Dwarf 1: So what d'you think the job is then?
Dwarf 2: [[chuckles]] If I told you what I know, I'd have to kill you.
Dwarf 1: Now don't you be goin' mad with power just yet. You're not the only scrub vying for foreman, you know.
Dwarf 2: Is that right? Well until you learn to fill out requisitions through the bottom of a tankard, I'll not worry about you taking my promotion.
[[SFX: voices and footsteps fade]]
Dwarf 1: What? You cheeky bastard!
[[SFX: bushes rustling]]
Gwen: [[under breath]] Whew! That was a close call!
Toby: [[under breath]] I'll bet you're glad I made you leave your armor behind now--huh, Quent?
Quent: [[under breath]] I just feel so naked without it. How am I supposed to prove I'm with the Aerie if we get caught trespassing?
Toby: Uhh… it's not trespassing if other people are already trespassing.
Gwen: I don't think that's how that works. And I don't think those dwarves are trespassing. Didn't you say this place was supposed to be abandoned?
Quent: I mean, the main warehouse certainly looks boarded up. But they said they've been here for months? That can't be right.
Toby: Sure it can! A small team, assembling isolated shipments of parts brought in under cover of darkness. It makes perfect sense!
Quent: You are dead set on finding a gun stockpile here, aren't you?
Toby: Think about it! They probably don't get many opportunities to ship out the finished products, what with this cloak and dagger operation of theirs. The only logical conclusion is that this must be their main reserve.
Gwen: I certainly hope you're wrong, Toby. I can only imagine what an entire building full of those horrid things could do.
Quent: And what sort of people would buy them… or could buy them.
Gwen: And the fact that they most likely killed one of their own just to keep it a secret? I don't like this plan one bit.
Toby: Listen, this is going to be easy.
Quent: [[muttering]] Famous last words.
Toby: [[annoyed]] It will be. All we have to do is sneak in, grab one of those muskets, and get it back to the Aerie.
Gwen: All without getting caught… or worse.
Quent: Gwen's right. Even if everything went to plan, we'd still be attracting an internal investigation for said trespassing, breaking and entering, and theft. Plus, any evidence we find might be thrown out in court.
Gwen: I'm more worried about being shot, actually.
Toby: Look--do you two want to blow the lid off this operation, expose a murderer, and possibly find the whereabouts of Hannah Nesmith? Because this is our best bet right now. More than that, it's our only lead.
Quent: And what happens if there are no muskets, Toby? What if we're really breaking into a perfectly legitimate renovation site? What if those dwarves are contractors and they've just been remodeling… [[uncertain]] in the middle of the night… for the past ten years…? Hmm… yeah, okay there's something weird going on here, isn't there?
Toby: Glad to see you're finally thinking critically. All that armor really weighs down your common sense, doesn't it? What about you, Gwen? You in?
Gwen: If Professor Lewin thought we needed to come here, then I say we should at least take a look around.
Toby: All right--now we're finally getting somewhere. Come on--this way.
[[SFX: walking]]
Quent: You're sure you can get onto the roof from the north side of the wall?
Toby: Not as sure as I am that you two can. That's what the rope is for. If all goes to plan, it'll also be our way out.
Gwen: You don't want to search the ground level first? That's where the warehouse is, after all.
Quent: As fun as getting spotted running across an open courtyard sounds, I think I'll stick with the back wall, thanks.
Toby: Exactly. Besides, the upper offices are less likely to have alarms set on the windows.
Gwen: Hmm. Then I think it's best if I go up first. I'm fairly handy at dispelling magical energies.
[[SFX: walking stops]]
Gwen: Here, Quentin--let me get onto your shoulders.
Quent: [[uncertain]] Oh! Ah… sure, just let me…
[[SFX: rustling fabric]]
Gwen: [[grunts]] Here, bend down a bit further.
Toby: Farther.
Quent: [[grunts]] [[strained]] Not now, Toby!
Gwen: Alright, now--whoa! Steady on! Don't ram my knees into the wall!
Quent: [[grunts]] [[strained]] Sorry! I wasn't expecting you to be so… uhh…
Gwen: [[warning]] So what?
Quent: [[hurriedly, strained]] Never mind. Toby, is the coast clear?
Toby: [[impatient]] Yes! Now would you two quit messing around already? I'd like to do this before some watchman rounds the corner.
Gwen: [[straining]] I can't reach the top, Quentin. I'll need to stand on your shoulders.
Quent: [[grunts]] I just had to leave the pauldrons at home, huh?
Gwen: Just hold still. I'll try not to dig my boots in too hard.
[[SFX: rustling fabric, stretching leather]]
Quent: [[very strained, shaking]] No need to hurry, Gwen!
Gwen: [[harried]] I'm trying to get a grip on the edge! [[strained]] Almost… there… [[grunts]] Sorry, Quentin!
Quent: [[strained]] What? [[forceful]] Oof!
[[SFX: body collapses, scrabbling on stone]]
Toby: Yes! Nice one, Gwen!
Gwen: [[calling down]] Are you all right, Quentin?
Quent: [[grunts]] [[crabby]] You could've warned me you were going to jump.
Gwen: Sorry! I was slipping and I didn't want both of us to fall.
Quent: Easier to ask forgiveness, right?
Toby: Do you see anyone in the courtyard, Gwen?
Gwen: No, it looks all clear from up here. Toss me the rope and I'll-- [[pause]]
Toby: What? What is it?
[[pause]]
Quent: Gwen? Everything okay up there?
Gwen: [[quietly, distracted]] It's strange… the entire building's been warded.
Toby: You didn't set off an alarm, did you?
Gwen: No, not an alarm… but the walls and windows are lined with very strong magic.
Quent: [[nervous]] And… what does that mean exactly?
Gwen: I'm not sure, but… I think it's the same sort of warding I felt around Malik's warehouse.
Toby: [[excited]] Really!? Ha! That's great, Gwen! Really great! Here--watch out, I'm coming up!
[[SFX: cork pops, drinking liquid]]
Quent: What are you-- [[alarmed]] Gah!
[[SFX: rushing kinetic energy, boots landing on stone]]
Gwen: [[alarmed]] Ah! [[shout becomes muffled]]
Toby: [[under breath]] Shh! We're trying not to get shot, remember?
Gwen: [[under breath]] What was that?
Toby: Oh, just a little formula I've been working on. Great for getting onto rooftops.
Quent: [[annoyed]] You had that this entire time!?
Gwen: [[suspicious]] And why, pray tell, do you need a potion to jump onto rooftops?
Toby: Extract, actually. And they're for… observing the heavens. You know, astronomy.
Quent: [[sardonic]] Yeah, right. Astronomy.
Toby: [[hurriedly]] That's not important right now. Here, find somewhere to tie this and help Quent up. I'm going to find us a way inside.
[[SFX: rope unfurling, lockpicks jangling]]
Gwen: [[annoyed]] You know, Tobias--when I was growing up, my mother always told me, "Manners cost nothing."
Toby: [[snarky]] Oh yeah? I guess that explains why its exchange rate is one to one with "me giving a damn".
Gwen: [[miffed]] Hmph. You're lucky to have any friends with that repugnant disposition.
Quent: [[strained, climbing]] Don't waste your time trying to guilt him, Gwen. Toby once sold a pouch of celery seed to a blind old lady by convincing her it was a gout poultice.
Gwen: What? That's horrible!
Toby: I know, right? At her age, she really should have been using a topical ointment. It's a lot more effective.
Gwen: Tobias Porte! You are absolutely despicable!
Quent: [[strained]] Uhh, Gwen? A little help?
Gwen: Oh! Sorry, Quentin. Here.
[[SFX: Gwen and Quent grunt, boot scraping stone]]
Toby: [[clears throat]] Would you two mind keeping it down? It's hard enough concentrating on this without--
[[SFX: click]]
Toby: Oh! Well, that was easy!
Quent: [[out of breath]] Let's just hope Gwen's right about there not being any alarms.
Gwen: Oh! I never actually checked!
Toby: [[angry]] Umm… what?
Gwen: [[hurriedly]] It's okay though, I just did! There aren't any! [[sheepish]] So… yes, it looks like everything's shipshape here.
Toby: [[annoyed]] Okay, new rule. I don't care if it's a door, a window, a gate, or a garden fence. We sense magical traps and alarms before Toby picks the lock. Got it?
Gwen: [[angry]] Fine. And the next time you want to scale a wall, you can bring enough of your… peeping Tom potions for the rest of--
Quent: [[interrupting]] Shh!
[[SFX: door bangs open, echoing voices in the distance]]
Dwarf 1: Aye, aye, aye! You just keep dreaming, you great wheezing arse.
Dwarf 2: Say that to my face, why don't you? Come on, then. You want to get knocked on your arse, do you?
Dwarf 1: Let a man finish his piss, will you?
Dwarf 2: You'd better shake twice, matey boy, else I'll be beating what's left out of you.
Dwarf 1: Aye you'd like that, wouldn't you?
Dwarf 2: Oi! Shut your filthy gob and get back in here already! It's your turn to deal!
[[SFX: door slams]]
Dwarf 1: [[muttering]] Bloody walloper talks to me like that again I'll do him what for…
[[SFX: walking, door opens/shuts]]
Quentin: [[under breath]] Whew. That could have been bad.
Gwen: [[under breath]] Right, let's get inside before-- [[alarmed gasp]] Where's Toby gone?
Toby: [[calling from inside]] In here, dummies!
[[SFX: Gwen and Quentin both grumble irritably]]
[[SFX: rustling fabric, steps on hardwood floor]]
Toby: Finally. Here, come look at this!
Quent: [[under breath]] Shut your hatch, will you? Are you trying to get us caught?
Toby: Relax. There's no one in here. Turns out that building across the courtyard is the bunkhouse. See?
[[SFX: papers shuffling]]
Gwen: Interesting. Whoever's in charge here is very meticulous when it comes to workspaces. Look, they've even written down a cooking and cleaning regimen.
Toby: That's nothing! Check out what I found in the locked drawer!
Quent: Just how many things have you had time to rifle through?
Toby: Good unintentional pun--but we'll get to that later. Take a look at this letter!
[[SFX: rustling paper]]
Gwen: Hmm. "Gold? Silver?" Are those supposed to be titles?
Toby: Code names, most likely. It seems this "Gold" character is overseeing whatever "Silver" is working on. I'm guessing we'll find that downstairs.
Quent: Huh… this entire thing is written like a riddle. "Second kraken of Abadar's toll? Fourth waning of Merrymead?"
Toby: They're dates, obviously.
Gwen: But why bother encoding them at all? There doesn't seem to be any specific instructions included. So what would be the point of-- [[pause]] Did you hear that?
Toby: Hmm? Hear what?
Quent: [[nervous]] Is someone coming?
Gwen: [[uncertain]] I don't think so… It was more of a… feeling? Like something heavy dropped on the floor. [[pause]] There it is again!
Quent: [[under breath]] Come on--let's get out of here!
Toby: Hold on… I think I felt it too. Any auras on the door, Gwen?
Gwen: [[concentrating]] Hmm… Not any longer.
Quent: Wait, what!? Was there an alarm?
Gwen: Just on the lock. I don't think we triggered it when we came in through the window.
Quent: You don't think!?
Toby: Shh! I'm going to go down and check it out. You two wait here and--
[[SFX: lock unlatching, door opening, heavy machinery sounds]]
Quent: [[alarmed]] What did you do!?
Toby: I thought you said the alarm was dispelled, Gwen!
Gwen: It is! At least I think it still is!
Quent: Now is it time to run?
Toby: Hold on--
[[SFX: door closing, heavy machinery sounds stop]]
Quent: Uhh… what did you do?
[[SFX: door opens, heavy machinery sounds resume]]
Toby: [[thoughtful]] Huh…
[[SFX: door closing, heavy machinery sounds stop]]
[[SFX: door opens, heavy machinery sounds resume]]
[[SFX: door closing, heavy machinery sounds stop]]
Quent: Umm… what's going on?
Gwen: [[realization]] Oh! That explains the warding barrier all around the building!
Toby: [[impressed]] Magical soundproofing, huh? Well now I really want to see what's downstairs!
[[SFX: door opens, heavy machinery sounds resume, walking down wooden steps]]
Quent: Wait! There could be someone down there… [[annoyed]] or, okay--just stomp off by yourself, as usual. [[sigh]] You want to follow him?
Gwen: [[shrugs]] Well, we came this far. At least we won't have to worry about waking anyone. A dead man couldn't sleep through that racket.
Quent: [[frustrated sigh]] All right. But try and keep your magic detection thing poised and ready. Soundproof or not, I'm still nervous about setting something off in here.
Gwen: Don't worry. I'll keep you posted.
[[SFX: heavy machinery sounds intensify, walking on wooden steps]]
Quent: Whoa. This is some serious machinery. You think this is all just for assembling firearms?
Gwen: [[awed]] I don't know… it's like walking through an enormous clock. [[realization]] Oh!
Quent: [[startled]] What? What is it?
Gwen: [[distracted]] There's a very strong aura coming from the next room. It might be the--
[[SFX: door bursts open]]
Toby: [[suddenly]] Guys!
[[simultaneously]] Quent: [[startled]] Ah!
[[simultaneously]] Gwen: [[startled]] Ah!
Toby: [[excited]] I was right! Come on! Through here!
Quent: [[annoyed]] Will you quit running off without us already?
Gwen: What is it? What did you find?
[[SFX: door closes, heavy machinery sounds diminish]]
Toby: Look!
Gwen: [[aghast]] Oh no…
Quent: [[in awe]] Gods… that's a lot of crates.
Toby: [[giddy]] I know, right? Come on, help me pry one open!
Gwen: [[uncertain]] Isn't this illegal?
Quent: [[long suffering]] Extremely.
Toby: Here! Everyone grab a crowbar! There may be ammunition and gunpowder in some of these too! I want samples of everything!
Quent: Hold up… Is there a chance I'm going to blow off my face digging around in explosives?
Toby: [[annoyed]] Oh, don't be such a baby! Come on, we've got work to do! [[grunts]]
[[SFX: wood and nails pulling apart]]
Gwen: Toby, most of these boxes seem to be empty…
Toby: Oh yeah? Then what do you call that?
Quent: [[unimpressed]] Screws. Lots and lots of screws.
Toby: Yeah? So? Check the others! They can't all be screws!
[[SFX: wood and nails pulling apart]]
Quent: This one is.
Toby: [[annoyed]] Well, obviously! Look in one from another shelf!
[[SFX: wood and nails pulling apart]]
Gwen: [[worried]] Toby, this one's just filled with little gears.
Toby: [[agitated]] Let me see! [[pause]] No, no. This can't be everything! What about that huge pile by the loading doors?
Gwen: I told you… they're all empty.
[[SFX: wooden crate kicked]]
Quent: Toby, calm down! What's got you so wound up?
Toby: [[agitated]] The damn muskets, Quent! They should be here!
Gwen: [[unsure]] Maybe they haven't assembled many yet, or-- [[realization]] Oh, of course! I nearly forgot!
Toby: [[grumpy]] What?
Gwen: The transmutation aura I sensed earlier!
Toby: The what?
Quent: Oh yeah! Where's it coming from, Gwen?
Toby: [[agitated]] You sensed a magical aura!? Why didn't you say something before?
Gwen: [[miffed]] Well, I imagine I was partially distracted by your overenthusiastic bossiness. Over there, Quentin.
Toby: [[grumbling]] Unbelievable!
[[SFX: Quent grunts with effort, heavy box set down, crate opened]]
Toby: [[excited]] Move! Let me see!
Quent: [[underwhelmed]] Huh. Is this what you're looking for?
Toby: Hmm… well, that's definitely some sort of blasting powder. Are these what you were sensing, Gwen?
Gwen: [[puzzled]] I think so. Perhaps the containers are warded against fire? The spell is so concentrated--it's difficult to say.
Toby: [[disappointed]] Well, that's a let down. Grab one of those bigger jars for me, will you?
Gwen: [[annoyed]] You're quite welcome, by the way.
Toby: [[frustrated sigh]] I just don't understand… they should be here. But there aren't even any prototypes or schematics lying around.
Quent: And what makes you think something like that is just going to be out in the open?
Toby: [[upset]] Look around you, Quent! I count twelve workbenches, two primed forges complete with steam-powered bellows, and four industrial blast furnaces! They've been here for months, maybe years!
Gwen: Hmm. Perhaps there's a hidden cellar in this warehouse as well?
Toby: [[defeated]] No… the interior dimensions match the building plans I found. Besides, this is the main loading bay. It's the only logical place to receive shipments and… [[realization]] Uh oh.
Quent: [[worried]] What? [[pause]] Toby, what?
Gwen: [[gasp]] They haven't been stockpiling the muskets…
Toby: They've been shipping them all… This isn't a warehouse. It's a distribution center!
Quent: [[horrified]] Are you saying they could have been sending out crates of those damned things for months? They could be anywhere by now!
Gwen: [[serious]] We absolutely must tell Lieutenant Drakeheel about this immediately!
Toby: [[stunned]] Yeah… we should leave.
Quent: My thoughts exactly.
[[SFX: TRANSITION MUSIC]]
SCENE 4
[[SFX: crickets, running on cobbles, Gwen, Toby, and Quent panting]]
Quent: [[out of breath]] Whew! Do you think anyone saw us?
Toby: [[out of breath]] If they didn't, they'll definitely see the open crates and rope we left behind.
Gwen: [[out of breath]] I'm just glad to be away from that place. Though I can't help but feel we're being watched.
Toby: Yeah, I know what you mean.
Quent: Come on. The fastest way to the Aerie is over the Scholar's Bridge. It's a bit out in the open, but not very well lit.
Toby: Fine by me. Just be sure to keep an eye on Gwen.
Gwen: Me? Why? What did I do?
Quent: [[diplomatic]] There's… a lot of panhandlers on the bridge. It's best just to ignore them.
Gwen: [[irritated]] Oh, get out of my way! If either of you were half as clever as you pretended to be, we'd have found Hannah and been in our beds by now instead of stomping through the streets at all hours of the night!
Woman: [[weakly]] Spare some coin, ma'am?
Gwen: [[snapping]] I'm not allowed to! Being a decent person is tantamount to idiocy, apparently!
Woman: [[miffed]] Alright, alright! Sorry I asked!
Toby: [[nervous]] Gwen, you're attracting a lot of unwanted attention right now.
Quent: [[tired]] Leave her alone. Let's just get to back Drakeheel's quarters and be done with this.
Gwen: [[exacerbated]] And what are we even supposed to tell the Lieutenant? We don't exactly have any evidence, apart from a flask of stolen blasting powder.
Toby: A fair point, though I'm more concerned with how Drakeheel's going to react to our little foray into vigilantism. That's kind of the opposite of being kicked off a case.
Quent: Look, just let me do the talking. Once he and the Commander see what's been going on at Hogshead, it's not going to matter how we--
Shady Man: [[hacking cough]] Pardon me. You three wouldn't happen to be the investigators looking into that warehouse fire, would you? [[hacking cough]]
Toby: [[annoyed]] No, we don't have any--wait, what?
Gwen: [[curious]] How did you know that? Who are you?
Shady Man: [[hacking cough]] Oh nobody, m'lady. Just a simple perfume vendor.
Quent: [[suspicious]] What do you want, citizen?
Shady Man: Just a chance to do a good deed, is all. [[hacking cough]]
Toby: Riiiiight. We'll just be moving along then--
Shady Man: [[interrupting]] Perhaps you'd be interested to know how that fire started? [[hacking cough]] Perhaps you'd like to know who started it?
Quent: [[impatient]] We don't have time for this. Stand aside.
Gwen: No, wait! What did you see?
Shady Man: I see many things from atop this bridge. It's where I [[hacking cough]] peddle my wares, you see. Perhaps the pretty lady would care for a sample? [[wheezing cough]]
Gwen: [[creeped out]] No, thank you.
Toby: Look, buddy. Either you back off or--
[[SFX: spritzing sound]]
Gwen: Augh! [[coughing]] I said no… [[debilitated]] thank… you…?
[[SFX: body collapses]]
Toby: [[alarmed]] Gwen!
[[SFX: sword unsheathing]]
Quent: [[vicious]] Get away from her! What did you do?
Toby: The bastard paralyzed her! [[frantic]] It's okay, Gwen. Here, just keep looking at me. Slow steady breaths, okay? [[angry]] What are you waiting for, Quent? Gut this idiot!
[[SFX: footsteps, swords unsheathing]]
Woman: [[chuckles darkly]] My, my! Looks like we've got a couple feisty ones tonight, boys!
Quent: [[desperate]] Toby! Run!
Toby: [[through gritted teeth]] You like dirty tricks? Try this!
[[SFX: smoke bomb explodes]]
Thug: Augh! [[coughing]] Why you brassy little--
[[SFX: running]]
Toby: [[vicious warcry]]
[[SFX: tackling impact]]
Thug: Oof! Get this stupid brat off me!
[[SFX: blunt impacts, body collapses]]
Toby: [[struck unconscious]] Ugh…
Quent: [[furious]] Toby! You're going to pay for that, you sons of--
[[SFX: swords clash, metal scraping, sword clatters on stone, heavy kick]]
Quent: [[pained]] Augh!
[[SFX: body collapses]]
Shady Man: [[amused]] Nighty night, "investigator".
[[SFX: blunt impact, all sound drops out]]
[[SFX: harbor ambience/dialogue fades in]]
Thug: Put up one helluva fight, that big one. Good thing his head's nice and soft, yeah? [[chuckles]]
Woman: [[chuckles]] The girl looks well off, don't she? Might be worth a fair ransom.
[[SFX: Toby and Quent give gagged cries]]
Shady Man: [[hacking cough]] So… these are the three busybodies you wanted, right?
Olivia: [[emotionless]] Yes.
Shady Man: [[hacking cough]] Well? What do you want us to do with them?
Olivia: [[coldly]] Kill them.
[[SFX: dramatic stinger, OUTRO MUSIC]]
CREDITS
Narrator: Omen, episode 103: "The Fires of Industry" was written and directed by Tim Krause. Featuring Mamito Kukwikila as Gwen, A.J. Beckles as Tobias, Charlie Wes as Quentin, Chris Einspahr as Lewin, Conor Cook as Drakeheel, Sena Bryer as Malik, and Meli Grant as Olivia. Thank you to special guests Matthew McLean and Robert Cudmore from A Scottish Podcast as the Hogshead Dwarves. Additional voices provided by Sarah Rhea Werner, Sarah Golding, Graham Rowat, and Brandon Jenkins. Original music composed by Matt Lee.
If you would like to support these independent creators as well as unlock exclusive Omen content, please consider becoming a patron at patreon dot com slash omenpodast. You can also show love for Omen by leaving a rating and review wherever you listen. Your encouragement is greatly appreciated. Thank you!
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Thank you so much for listening to Omen. And until next we meet, fair winds and following seas.
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