"'High tea' actually refers to tea taken as an evening meal, at what you'd call a supper table. It is not synonymous with 'high class.'"
"So I'm not getting those little sandwiches?"
"I can reheat half a Thai burrito," Elton offers. "If I can find it. Why don't you tell me what drove you out of upstate New York."
"I think I found the remains of someone named Harmonie." I hand Elton the library card.
I focus on the Bane, maybe throwing in a few details about how I kicked its ass.
Wait a minute. Does this Shadow Lord theurge know that "Stormcat" I met? I cover the basics, then get to the Stormcat's appearance.
I focus on Clay's sickness and how to help cure him.
Honestly, the first thing I need is a place to stay. Let's talk sofas, bathtubs—whatever Elton can offer.
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You describe your prepwork for hunting the Bane, the fight itself, and the horrible aftermath of Clay's appetite for horseflesh. But only when you talk about Black Tarn and the Stormcat does Elton set his teacup down and steeple his fingers, offering you his undivided attention.
"I know the Stormcat. She and the Falcon of Doors were the guardian spirits who guarded our Caern. I thought she died." He looks momentarily pained. "I wonder if the Stormcat actually thought you could help Clay. Is that even what you want, Matulo?"
"Yes! He raised me. He taught me the Litany."
"If you had seen him, you wouldn't say that. Clay was a tough old bastard, and this just chewed through him."
"Clay was a shit, but I plan to stop whatever infection is coming out of this town before it spreads."
"Couldn't care less. But we can't escape our obligations, Shadow Lord."
Next
"Big plans for a little cub," Elton says. "You're trying to stop something that destroyed dozens of werewolves and defiled an entire caern. You get that, right? Clay told you what happened here, didn't he?"
"I've heard about the Broad Brook Caern. But if you want to tell me what really happened, I'd like to listen."
"Maybe I should scale down my ambitions, then. Hey, speaking of: can I sleep here tonight? I'm out of doors."
"He didn't tell me much, but I still need to help him. So what do you think I should do next?"
"Were you there? Because I checked the records and I don't think Daphne Clear—I tried speaking to her, too—I think she arrived after whatever happened here."
Next
"Daphne Clear wasn't originally one of us," Elton says. "Her husband Linus Harrowman was one of our Silver Fangs, though. Actually, ex-husband—they were split up by then. Doesn't matter now that he's dead, I guess. She runs an environmental news and media company, but mostly she watches the…the thing in the woods, the thing that turned our caern into a nightmare.
"And to a lesser extent she deals with minor problems that a bit of data manipulation can solve: people talking about 'weird dog attacks,' that kind of thing."
You nod, remembering the scrambled files.
"I don't have many good things to say about Glass Walkers," Elton says, "but they're good researchers. Daphne told me about you maybe ten minutes after you got into town, actually. But it's not like she can do anything against the Answering Tiger."
"The Answering Tiger?" you ask. "What's that? A spirit? A Bane?"
"Of what use are names?" the Shadow Lord says. "That final night—God, it was only three years ago, but it feels like a thousand—we realized too late that we had already lost. The Tiger had let us believe our own propaganda. That's all the Tiger was, all the Tiger is: a lie shaped like what you want to believe. We lied to ourselves and it came to us, and blinded us. We turned on each other: Shadow Lord against Silver Fang, human against Garou, family against family. The Answering Tiger had servants, of course: Banes like the one you battled, fomori, werewolves sworn to the Wyrm. But the weapon it used to strike us down…was us. What more can be said?"
A gust of icy wind rattles the windows.
"But that's enough about the world's occult horrors. What about the mundane ones? You need a place to stay."
You didn't want to say anything, but…
"I'll be right back," Elton says, rising and stepping into the kitchen.
Next
The Shadow Lord returns after less than a minute.
"Do you have a job?" the Shadow Lord asks.
"I'm a groundskeeper at an old folks' home," you say.
"You don't waste time," the Shadow Lord says. He disappears into the kitchen for a moment, then comes back with a business card that reads AL GOULTIER REALTY. The card has contact information for Mr. Goultier, and on the back, in unusually fancy penmanship, a Garou glyph you don't recognize.
"I am doing you a favor," the Shadow Lord says. "If you show him that card, Mr. Goultier will permit you to stay in one of his units starting immediately, as long as you have a job.
"Now," Elton says, "it's getting late, and I've neglected my studies."
You rise, careful not to knock any books to the ground.
"I respect your determination," Elton says, rising. "Call that number I gave you. And for what it's worth, I hope the spirits of Gaia watch over you."
He follows you back down the tall narrow steps, then closes the downstairs door, leaving you alone in a wind-blown parking lot across from the covered alley.
Another freezing night on the streets.
Next
Some kind of state inspection. You watch Mr. Veiss hand over an envelope. All they do is to show up, collect envelopes full of money, and ignore any problems. Charlie the orderly dragoons you into watching some of the more violent patients during these delicate negotiations, so you have to stay an hour late to help Ernesto staple down some new carpeting.
I see if I can learn anything more about Harmonie Palys.
I call the number on the card Elton gave me so I have a place to stay.
I go to Banicki Gunworks.
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