Methodology
It was the middle of the day, and the tavern was lively, with men and women alike indulging in spirits. Tails of all different kinds hung out of the backs of chairs and stools, whether furry, scaly, or feathered. Most of the light came from the front windows, but candles still burned in dark corners. Friends and coworkers talked amongst themselves, sharing complaints and jokes, but most of it was the former, all directed at Uther. Whether it was the taxes or the guards patrolling the streets, Uther's authority was grudgingly endured, but murmurings were going on. Whispered in fear and anger, talks of rebellion passed between bowed heads and over empty mugs.
Yet despite the patrons' heightened senses of sight, hearing, and smell, no one knew of the intruder sitting among them. Wrapped in a veil of mana, Noah listened in to the numerous conversations, noting any details relating to the Pack and the Profane. He also paid attention to dialects, accents, and slang, learning how to speak as an ordinary citizen of Welindar. He had spent several days perusing the local taverns and other meeting places and roaming the back alleys, picking out anyone looking or acting suspicious and tailing them for info.
While Noah was doing undercover work, Shannon assisted Valia in the streets, chasing leads and taking down the fiends.
"Thank you again for letting me come with you," she said as the two walked down a crowded street. "I'm glad to help Lord Noah with his work, but some of the things he does in there, the things he does to the people you capture, the way he experiments on them... I couldn't stop imagining those things being done to my kin."
"Considering what I walked in on, I'm surprised you lasted so long. Noah lives in a very different world from you and I. I sometimes get glimpses of it from his stories, and they often leave me awed, horrified, and heartbroken. Other times, he'll tell me a story that makes me fall in love with him all over again. Anyway, it's nice to have you out here. Honestly, I thought you had a grudge against me."
Shannon gave a mournful sigh. "I was never mad at you. It just hurt to be reminded of that night. But I know you did everything you could to save my father, I know that you wanted to make everything right. What happened wasn't your fault, it was theirs; the Profane, and if not for you, I wouldn't be here. I don't simply want to help my people, I want to return the favor."
"Well I'm happy to have you. Just be ready, these streets are crawling with danger."
"Yes, My Lady."
Off in the distance, they heard several roars and the sounds of battle. "Looks like you're going to get your chance. Let's go!"
They set off towards the commotion, Valia sprinting and Shannon galloping in her centaur form. They crossed three streets and arrived at the scene, where a squad of soldiers were battling against a fiend. The hairy behemoth swung a log as a club, knocking the men through the air. Shannon drew her grandfather's bow and an arrow as soon as she saw him. The tip had been lathered in the poison she helped Noah create, the fruit of her labor, and with perfect aim, it struck the fiend in the center of the chest. Such a wound wasn't even a hindrance to the beast, but as the toxins entered his bloodstream, the mighty warrior began to seize up, and with equal ease and elegance, Valia finished him off. They continued on like that through the city, with every victory raising Shannon's confidence and each arrow easier to shoot than the one before.
Back at the bar, Noah had just spotted one man talking to another in a corner and flashed him the mark of the Pack. They both left the bar, and Noah followed them. When they split up, Noah chose the one who revealed his tattoo. Once he stepped into an alley, Noah made his move, first filling the air with his mana to smother all noise. He then snuck up on the man, wrapped a rope around his neck, and kicked the back of his leg to bring him down to his knees. Noah pulled hard on the rope, making the man fight for every breath, but gave him just enough leeway to dig his fingers underneath and open up enough room to answer questions.
"You try to transform, you try anything I don't like, and I'll make this infinitely more painful for you. Who was that man you were talking to the bar?"
"Argh! Eat shit!" the man growled, struggling for air.
Noah responded by boxing his ear, rupturing his eardrum, and making him shout in pain.
"If you had a parasite, that wouldn't have hurt as much. Tell me who he was."
"Fuck you!"
This time, Noah robbed him of one of his eyes. "No one is going to save you. No one is going to end this but me. The only freedom you have right now is to decide how much pain I will inflict on you." Noah forced him onto his stomach and smashed his face against the ground until a puddle of blood formed. "Tell me who he was!"
"Tolk! His name is Tolk!"
"Is he above you or below you in the Pack?" The man didn't immediately respond, so Noah jerked hard on the rope.
"Below! He doesn't even have his mark yet!"
"And who is above you?"
The man used what little breath he had to try and scream for help, hoping someone would hear and save him. He was aptly punished.
"Brusin, he recruited me. He manages a dozen other men!"
"And where do I find him?"
"He runs a tannery to the west of here! There is a squirrel on the sign!"
"Does he have a parasite?"
"No!"
"And who is above him?"
"I don't know! I can't use a parasite, so they don't tell me much!"