…go to the kitchen and take the dumbwaiter upstairs.

The dumbwaiter has its risks, but out of the alternatives on offer it’s surely the best way upstairs. You make your way back to the large empty kitchen and head straight for the dumbwaiter, examining it once more to make sure it can really take your weight. The square hole in the wall leading to the upward passage can fit your form quite well, despite being made for trays of food, and once you’re in you will not want for height. The centre rope holding the tray looks old but strong, and the two lengths of taught rope that run down either side of the shafts front look frayed but thick. You give it a test and pull the left rope down, causing the tray to lower while the right rope moves up. The clinking sound of the mechanism above answers your querying, quiet, but audible to anyone in the room the shaft leads to.

With the first test complete, you climb into the hole and gingerly stand on the tray. It wobbles beneath your feet and you hear the rope groan with your weight but it definitely supports you. The shaft is dark and dirty but smells quite pleasant, the aroma of fine food soaked deep into its wood and lingering past its time. The candle still flickers upstairs, projecting a small square of yellow light into the shaft wall above, but no sound of movement can be heard. No faces look in. Squatting down on the tray while awkwardly avoiding the main rope in its centre, you grab the rope on the shafts right and pull it down, hauling yourself gently upwards to the light of the second floor. The need to make the clinking journey quickly wars with the need to make it quietly, resulting in the worst of both worlds, your slow assent marked with a long clattering. The squeezing sound of the rope under your meagre weight makes you sweat as well, hoping that you will not end your ride at the bottom of the shaft instead of the top.

Fortunately, it’s only a short distance straight up and before the minute is out you find yourself looking into the light of the second floor room. It’s dim, despite the lantern, but its lack of decoration denotes its servant status. Plain wood makes up the floor and ceiling while white plaster lines the windowless walls. It’s full of old looking things that merge together in its gloom; warped and broken furniture pushed to one side, strange shapes covered in white sheets, planks of wood staked against the wall. Everything is quiet and you maintain that quiet as you climb out of the hole and into the room.

“So what are you doing here sweetness?”

You almost jump to the ceiling as the voice comes from right next to you. You turn, heart hammering, to the source of the question and see an old man leaning against the wall next to the dumbwaiter. He wears a short grey beard and a red bandana, likely to hide a bald spot from the lines on his face. From his stance alone, he looks like a teenage wastrel, ones that’s been aged by some kind of magic; he bears all the lazy confidence of youth with none of the wisdom of old age. He smirks, enjoying the shock he gave.

You glare at him and respond in a voice that’s a little more shrill than you’re proud of. “Never mind me! What are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. You see that his clothes are brown and grey, sporting patches over patches, not in the regular colours of one of the pirate crews. Pirates rarely reach his age; it’s not a career with long term prospects in mind. Another of the house servants? He lacks the neatness of the girl you saw, plus he’s not doing much of anything. He eventually answers your question with a waved hand.

“Takin a hard earned break.”

You decide to press the advantage and keep him on the defensive until you can think of a good reason for coming up the dumbwaiter like a plate of sweet treats. “From what?!”

He pauses for a moment as through the answer is obvious, “Avoiding work o course. Its tiring bein lazy. Got me yawnin it has.”

He continues to look at you throughout his flippant response, eyes half closed but sceptical and full of assumed superiority. It seems he is waiting for a response to his fist question when he suddenly offers you a life line.

“You Benji’s woman? Come to canoodle with ya man?” Perfect.

“Yes, do you know where he is?”

His eyes widen slightly, then narrow, his voice deliberately casual. “Sure, but Benji’s already with his woman. A Wendigo woman. They been at it like rabbits for a while now.”

Damn! Caught out. Guess you don’t live to such years around criminals without being crafty. He looks you dead in the eye. Your hand reaches for your thigh and the stiletto strapped to it. It’s time to go big or never make it home. You throw everything on a gamble.

“That Bastard! He said I was the only one! I’ll beat the snot out of him for this!”

The man looks at you with slight shock, then mirth.

“Ah, aha, ahahahaha! AAAH HAHAHAHA! Lil basted gets all the pussy! What you girls see in him anyway? Ahahahaha! He’s in the room down the hall, 4th on the left! Don’t make too much noise or the captain’l have you! And don’t make a mess neither or I’ll have you!”

You have trouble maintaining your angry expression while feeling such relief. Cracking a smile that you hope looks evil enough for your purposes, you punch your palm. “Oh you’ll be cleaning him off the walls old man! Where are the captains anyway? Don’t want to interrupt, you know?”

He regards you with amusement, revelling in your supposed betrayal, “Heh, yeah, main room, 3rd on the left. Prolly goin at it like ya boyfriend already ha ha!”

You make a show of storming out the room and try to close the door as quietly and angrily as you can.

You stand alone in the hall way. To your right, the dark hallway continues into the manor. To your left you see several more doors before the light of the foyer and the main set of double doors at the top of the stairs. There are two doors before the landing, making the set of double doors the ‘3rd on the left’ that contains tonight’s target.

You sneak through the darkness towards the landing, stopping before you reach the light. Sure enough, you hear the sounds of a blazing argument very close to the door, and you freeze, ready to bolt if the door opens.

“See? Right there! Damn it Roland, it’s clear as day!”

“Bah! Fine! But I’m right about the navy!”

“No you’re not, because...”

The argument moves further away, a doors slam somewhere behind the big double doors marking the final cut-off. The conversation sounds very distant now, as though they are several rooms away. You strain your ears, listening as close to the door as possible and straining to hear what they’re saying, but it’s no use; you only confirm that there are moving further into whatever extra room comes off the one through these doors.

You peek around the corner instead, down into the main entrance hall of the mansion. The men from before are still the foyers only residents. They talk and mutter between themselves, heads down and in some heated business arraignments, their own little world of intrigue and barter. If you’re quick and quiet, you can probably move across the landing and through the double doors without them noticing.

Doing so is a massive risk. You know your target isn’t waiting directly through the double doors; both Captain Washkin and Captain Rolands, the captain your uniform tells people is yours, are in the room beyond it, or the room beyond that. It could still be populated though, with guards or suchlike. If not, the empty room could be a good place to set up an ambush, and two quick stabs with a poison dagger, even superficially, will see them drop dead in moments. You don’t like the odds of two on one though, and even if the room is empty now, it doesn’t mean they won’t come back before you’re ready. At the same time, what choice do you have? That is almost certainly the only way into and out of the room you know Captain Washkin is in, and she may not be in it forever. With a bit of bravery you could end all of this now! No going back if you do though.

You consider the other options; you can’t stay in this corridor forever. The room nearest to you, to the left of the one she is in, could let you listen in on their conversation through the walls. You would still be in the same situation though and you may even lose your chance at a clean ambush, but more knowledge is always better than less. A cautious approach perhaps, considering that it may sacrifice the first opportunity you’ve had, but too cautious is better than too reckless. You head nods side to side. You don’t have all night; she may have other meetings with the men below, or she may even return to the safety of her ship when it’s over. If she sleeps in the manor then that could be an opportunity, but can you take that risk or wait that long? If only you could see inside the room and figure out what you’re dealing with.

It’s a tough decision, but after brief moment’s consideration,