@torntruth : Lizzy Stride || Drapers Ward Docks, Month of Timber, 1837.
Daud survived to turn another year.
That fact surprised him more than anything. After finally concluding his half-a-year's long journey to discover what the significance of 'Delilah' was from the Outsider's taunts, becoming embattled in a witch's conspiracy to usurp the Empire from within the body of Emily Kaldwin, defeating Delilah by imprisoning her within her own creations; Daud felt he had done more in those six months than any time in the last seventeen years of being Marked.
And he had done enough.
He'd inflicted his will on a world that had wronged him, and damned all of Dunwall in the process. Daud knew that it would catch up to him, in the form of Corvo Attano, but he wasn't going to simply submit to retribution. Any victory or defeat would have to be earned.
Corvo won. As was expected. Being let go? That was not expected.
Daud asked for his life, and it had been given. Granted, given barely intact, with a jarring wound to his spleen that refused to heal and almost did him in for good. If not for Thomas, the life he asked for wouldn't have been worth much at all.
They hunkered down together, hiding in the Academy grounds as the Month of Ice passed. Age forty-one turned forty-two, and another year 'round the sun concluded for Daud. He rebuilt his strength, focused on healing, consolidating resources, stealing, working on an exit plan, waiting for the right time to flee the city as it was coming to light his own role in the death of the Empress.
And come the Month of Timber, the perfect opportunity came with the coronation of the new Empress. The night before, he'd laid his sword at Jessamine's memorial within the gazebo at the Tower. It served as his gift to the girl he quietly saved, and his oath that he would not kill for coin. He would not kill again if he could help it.
The City Watch was concentrated around the Tower to oversee the young Empress' coronation, far from the edges of Dunwall- and far away from the docks of Drapers Ward. Daud abandoned the bright red garb of his Whaler uniform, trading it for the more muted brown and black leathers, and an oiled cloak with a heavy hood. He kept himself towards the rooftops, observing the streets below.
Dead Eels loading cargo. As usual, Thomas' information was spot-on.
The Undine sat in the water, idling with a hum as her engine rumbled, the smells of oil, rust, river muck, and brine mingled. And leaning on the rails of the top deck, its captain, Lizzy Stride, oversaw the movement of goods, more than ready to get the Eels back into action.
He clenched his fist, and called on the power of the Mark to transverse to the deck, outside of Lizzy's arm length. He appeared with a 'thwip' and rasped as he spoke.
"Lizzy," he says, pulling back his hood from his face, "Word is your crew is bound for Morley. Got room for one more? I'll make it worth your time."