Through Streets and Pockets

With little else to do other than curse himself and look to the boy, Tarmen gradually made his way back towards the docks, unsure of where Alexis had gone. The thick, wet sound of an impalement made it easier even in the downpour and Tarmen shifted the unconscious assassin on his shoulder to move towards it. One of those sounds that stands out after a life of hearing it.
Too late to see the conflict that warranted the mans death, he wasn't about to argue about it. One less problem in the fine mess they were always in.

"Get anythin' else out of him?"

Alexis looked up, glad to see Tarmen had made it here without even more ‘friendly’ encounters.
She shook her head no and checked the Ozainae for items of interest.

“He preferred to ensure his continued silence personally. Let me see if he’s got anything.”

With a cursory search of fallen Brotherhood member, Alexis brushes her fingers against a small, hard object in his robe. She pulls out a rectangular tinder box, its surface a smooth blend of desert hardwood and bronze, the latter forming a sliding lid adorned with familiar, intricate engravings of twin tusks crossing.

He also wears a golden ring upon one hand.

The cold rain continues to smatter upon roof, skin, and stone.

Alexis moved so that Tarmen could see her findings.
It was kind of sarcastic, really, that Sir holy warrior over here would carry an item proudly representing the Twins of all things. But actually… she figured that the Ozainae at large had about zero idea about the true colours of their resident friendly neighbourhood assassin association. Yeah, looking back, the hired killer thing seemed to have been the main concern of the merchants they had traveled with way back when.
Apparently, knowledge of their culty tendencies to serve socially unacceptable chained goddesses was reserved to them - and random mercenaries from overseas.
Hooray for her!

A short inspection of the ring confirmed that - you could turn the part showing the signet from the Twin‘s tusks to the triangle she had come to know and (not) love.

Well, in a long game, as in a stage long before a giant army marched on a small city, she supposed knowledge of their secret could have helped someone who was good at playing people against each other, like, say, the Duke. As things were right now, she wasn’t sure it mattered anymore.

Tarmen looked at the ring in passing interest, noting the symbol he remembered from Gra'Akast. The tinder box was more noteworthy, but of little use at the moment.

"Cute toys."

He moved to rummage further, looking for any thing they could gather before the Duke got his hands on their living captive.

Letting Tarmen do a thorough search without getting in his way, Alexis took a closer look at the tinderbox.

Upon sliding open the bronze lid, Alexis discovered a neatly arranged fire starter kit inside. The centerpiece was a compact cylinder and shaft, masterfully crafted from the same desert hardwood as the box, with a piston rod of polished bone and a small, ornate bronze handle. The rod's end had a recess, currently empty but clearly meant to hold tinder.

Alongside the fire piston, the box contained a small bundle of tinder material—char cloth, meticulously rolled and sealed against moisture. A tiny compartment carved into the side of the box holds a small amount of wax and string, used to wrap around a groove in the piston rod to maintain an airtight seal. Furthermore, there was a a tiny vial, with a roughened surface providing sure grip, filled with a dark liquid. Given context clues, she could infer that it was something flammable, maybe an oil of some kind.
Last but not least, an alternate fire source was included, a polished crystal lens to be used with sunlight.
All in all a far cry from good old flint and steel.

It was interesting and maybe she would spend some time figuring it out, but right now there were certainly more pressing matters to attend to.

Pocketing the nifty trinket, Tarmen made short work of the mans robes. Only so many pockets you can pick before its more instinct than skill.

His first find was a vial, smoother than the tinder boxes and secured with wax and some sort of tree resin. No question it was something he shouldn't open, though perhaps something to test later. Next out was a small item, revealed by the glint of light off it to be a whistle, made of brass or copper. How he wished he could have heard whatever signals they used with it, get a proper trap going. Finally was a small piece of paper he almost missed in his dull hand. Unraveling it didn't help discern its purpose, revealing a jumble of foreign letters. This he showed to Alexis first.

"Any clue what that might say?"

Alexis gave the little piece of paper a close look, but whatever breadcrumbs of Ozainae she had collected in her desert time was not enough to understand it.
She shook her head.

“Nah. Can barely read anything and what little I can does make no sense whatsoever.”

Tarmen looked at the ground with a grumble. Not enough to have a solid leg up on the Duke, but it would be more than he would get from them.

"Best get these two back before "His Lordship" wonders where we are, eh? Besides, don't think our friend will be the only one comin' this way, unless there was somethin' else you had in mind?"

They had faired well against the two, but his aching back and gradually numbing hand told him they couldn't just roam the streets waiting for more ambushes.

“Agreed. Let’s get those guys off our hands.”

Alexis put the tinderbox away for later inspection, and heaved the corpse on her shoulder.

“I suppose near the initial ship on fire would be a likely place to find Zane or anyone else high enough in the chain of command.”

Tarmen nodded, hoisting his own captive again to get moving, motioning to the streets with some gallows humor.

"By all means then, blessed before damned."

That elicited a short snort from her.

“Is that supposed to be a differentiator?”

Passing the eerily darkened buildings, Tarmen chuckled.

“Guess not, just checkin’ on that sense of humor. Tends to be the first thing to go with most holy types.”

The calm also let his thoughts on the matter begin to fester again, his brow furrowed with no other indication of such deliberation to the outside world.
He had denied the gifts of a god once and now had to understand the mercurial desires of ones he thought he knew. Having put no effort into such matters before, now it proved difficult to wrap around. Perhaps he had never truly followed anyone…

“Wonder if the Duke will have us runnin’ all night or if we will be near the Keep again. Been meanin’ to ‘take a look around’ the place if you get the idea.”