The chase is afoot

The Beetle Market is awash with rumour of a vile kidnap; recourse to my coded fresco leads my to suspect that Trudvong the Burglar might be aware of the truth. I track him to a disused tenement in the Rattles and with a silk bat at his ear he whispered words of import. I asked my old friend, Xubwang, a dissipated wretch if he recalled the name I was given. Overcome by enthusiasm my friend ran into an unlit portico seeking a note carved thence; he was set upon by a pair of dark cultists, deeply lost in their fervourous raving. My silk bat opened one’s throat while I slashed the other and missed; recovering, I muttered the Biting curse and the remaining vermin collapsed. Tracing the carving I saw Xubwang to his den and hied myself to a pastry seller to consider my findings.