Look! A thread for continuing side-quest shenanigans for people that need it!
"Alas, your womanly figure! Ah well, I suppose we weren't going to be able to stare at your wonderful derriére forever!"
Dodging a thrown potato (the CHEEK of that jack!), Guillaume raises a mildly incredulous brow to his partner in...escapades. Crime is so unsavory and beneath them both, right?
"And why dost thou thinkest mine personne should be of such interests to the Mademoiselle? I dare say you've tried to set me up with every young lady of means and status except dear Penny and yourself!"
Once the ribald ribbing and jokes are over, and the Madonna Ivanova kidnapped...er, rescued from any appointments she had that day, the journey south and westerly to the Market Plaza is quite a short one, and one can in fact see the gables of the Three Spears rise on the hill near the north gate.
A crowded market is just the place where questions could go unheard by those with ears too large for safety, and frankly it's probably more likely to find who sold the paper, and where that seller sourced it from that way than wandering into the "makers'" district. Or so Guillaume suggests.
"Ah, Nones. Granvier and Genevieve do take their duties seriously. You will find them in the main chapel hall with the rest. Go on then young one, let an old man walk at his own pace."
You get the feeling he wouldn't mind accompanying you, but keeps up appearances of a sort anyway.
"Well, I would imagine so. Being derelict in their duties would set an ill example for those under their tutelage. Nonsense though, you seem a spry elder fellow. I would not mind walking with you. It would give me a chance to listen to your wisdom, something my mentors would box my ears for if I did not." Javiera said, as she nodded to him. "Sometimes, one must slow down as not to miss anything, after all."
"And rightly so, my young escort. Something that the young learn too late, and the old regret far too often. Haste is well when the time calls for haste, but when the time calls for stillness how many listen in these times? Gwennaelle may yet make a dutiful investigator of corruption, but first she must master her impulses. But tell me, you seem preoccupied, what business still calls you so that you do not devote your full attention to the Light this even?"
Javiera sighed a little. "I seem a little worried about tonight. The group of us who apprehended a criminal were invited to some kind of extravagant party, and I tend to live my life simply, giving that which I do not need away to those who do. Attending something like this seems to be the nature of some of the group with which I traveled, but I feel I would be out of place there. Plus, it concerned me that Delroy thanked me for showing mercy as one such as I should to defeated foes. I feel I should say a few extra prayers for him, that he might always know the light's blessing, even when surrounded by darkness."
He almost lets a tear fall (almost) but this atavist is too proud to let others see him cry, or cry at all, so he simply puts on the leather collar with reverence. When he is done, it is almost like a new wolf stands before Eamonn. Something is...quieter about Ceallach. More confident, and less full of bravado.
"Now I've a reputation to uphold. Cannae be runnin' about like a cub no more."
He shakes his head fondly and claps you on the shoulder, looking eye to eye, nose to nose, ear to ear, etc. "Ceallach Mac Seitheach, I present ye the nasc-niad, I name ye Fiann, protector of the Tuátha in entire, reaver to all foes o' the Phelan, keeper o' the ways o' war. May ye only fall on the fields o' battle, after all yer foes are cleft in twain and soakin' the barrows with their lifeblood."
Seemingly satisfied with this little ceremony, he retreats a pace or two in respect of the danger you present, now official according to the laws of your people. "There. A bit unorthodox, but seein' as the only qualified Fiann I know of is still half an island a way, but I think my sister would agree, ye've earned it. Though ye'll have to find yer own way to finish that woad. I'm a lawman and know accounts, not a warrior or a body-artist."
Javiera pondered what the Abbot was saying, nodding at his words. If she felt too badly about it, she could leave easily enough. Plus, with her presence, hopefully there would be some inspired by her appearance that they might tithe more to the church, which would be worth going to a party for.
"I understand. Perhaps my presence there will keep some of them on better behavior, or even inspire them to seek out the light." She said, as she nodded. "Thank you for your advice, Abbot. It has helped to lift a burden of worry off of my shoulders."
"A place called the Three Spears, the party is hosted by a Rouchardon Ilaire" Javiera replied. "Have you heard of this person? Being recently returned to the city myself, I have not gotten a good canvas of who is who now." She asked, hoping that the Abbot could give her an idea of what she was in for in this situation
That...clashes a wee bit with what he just said about being tolerant and abiding, but then again he is a Penitent, and if one is surrounded b temptation one is far more likely to give in than if one removes oneself.
"Well I thank you for your help. If you think of anything more, I would appreciate a letter. By the way, do you play Go? One of my companions, Hitaru, who traveled here with me, has been looking for someone new to play against, as I have not been in town much recently." She memorizes the symbol reffered to and copies a few of the foreign words onto a new sheet of paper, finding the letters oddly simple feeling compared to most of her writing.
If he continues conversation, I will continue as well, but if it is nothing more then pleasentries and light chit chat, then Quinn will move on to Dunwasser, looking for Natalia, hoping she can help find a book on the language of the words she wrote down seperatley, if pressed she will claim the words were something she saw down in the room where the alter was found.
At the market, Natalia motions Guillaume to keep a slight distance, as she speaks to Rosza in private (or as private as on can get in the marketplace).
Finding the proper place for this is a small chore, since Natalia's and Rosza's heights do not quite match, but there are places aplenty for Natalia to gain a bit of height (those barrels, for instance).
"Rosza, Rosza, yesterday I met a facinating and handsome gentleman," she whispers to Rosza (as much as one can whisper in a noisy market). "He has said he wishes to see me again!"
Natalia does a poor job of concealing her delight with her news...
Javeira pondered the words of the Abbot. And his body language didn't seem to help aid in her through process. "Well, if there are those from the church who find themselves in trouble at this event, they know that they can count on my assistance. At least my presence there might help to relax things so that they do not feel as if they need to partake too much in the festivities."
A bright flash! A loud report! When the disorientation clears there are no more symbols in the air...but the book and your notes have transliterated into Zhongwen! How?! Why?! Impossibru!
The great sage says "That...is odd, and intriguing!"
Finally, you reach the Cathédrale and slide in while hymn is being sung. Nobody seems to notice, and the devotions continue without incident. Afterward the Abbot is dragged off on official business, and you find yourself immediately at the attention of two Boulonnais horses, a stallion and a mare, wearing Calendar swords and still in battered but well-kept and polished training armor. These are Granvier and Geneviève, your old instructors in the arts of battle and the right-hand path of S'Allumer.
Granvier speaks first, his deep voice a basso rumbling that could shake the earth's stones free if amplified. "Little vixen, you return from your journey early. What business could bring a proud Factionnaire from her post so far away?"
The ermine dips one rounded ear to the bat's not-quite-a-whisper, and studiously ignores what Natalia's own ears are doing to lever Rosza's broad-brimmed hat from her head.
It seems to take a few moments for the news to filter through whatever strange mental channels Rosza uses for things that make no sense to her, but when it finally does, she turns a somewhat incredulous smile on the little bat. "Attendre un moment...He is not a librarian, cher ami? You do not owe him a book? A fine upon one? Or do you mean to say a lesser étudiant of the starry arts seeks your help? Or...Is it that...He wishes your company for the sake of yourself?"
This last has that slightly joking lilt Rosza uses when she's confused about or unsure of the status of someone she's addressing, and is hoping to wave off any faux pas as a teasing joke...But Natalia knows the ermine well enough to know that this isn't Rosza's condescending manner...The little bat has seen that in action many times, and it's unmistakably brutal. The generally cocky musteline acts more puzzled than anything, possibly even a bit concerned.
It could even be that the sleek ermine looks worried about accidentally offending her delicate friend.
"Non, non, Rosza, he is not a librarian or student," Natalia whispers, a little touch of impatience in her voice.
"He said he wished to see me, and was so romantic and proper. He had spent some time training as a knight with the Avoirdupois too."
Natalia's face seems to light up a bit while speaking about him.
The ermine chuckles softly. "So tell me of him, then, if he is not some fine upstanding young stallion-knight, who is he?"
"He is Signore Luigi Christoforo, a hadsome grey fox who has just returned to the city recently," Natalia answers. She then takes a second to peer at Guillaume, who is watching Madonna Rosza's facial expressions. Natalia flutters her hand at him in a 'nothing to see here' sort of way and giggles before returning to divulging her secret.
"He's of a noble house too, although he's far enough from the main heirs. Ah, spending time with him made me feel so..."
Natalia pauses, trying to find a word grand enough that could discribe her feelings and failing.
The ermine reaches out to place a hand tenderly on Natalia's shoulder. "Go slowly, my dear, and be gentle with your own heart. We are each only gifted with one first love."
And oh, if it could but be guaranteed true and lasting, my friend.
She makes a show of looking warily up and down the street before leaning down to whisper once more in Natalia's ear with a cheerful grin. "Just don't let mine oncle see him!"
"Honestly, Rosza, have I not listened to all your warnings? He only kissed my hand, and has only been the soul of honour."
"And I can't think of any ulterior motives he might have either..."
However, some of Natalia's joy seems to leach away, as perhaps Rosza's words were raising doubts in her heart.
"And why would I hide him from your uncle?" she finished up, wondering over the last bit of advice...
Rosza pauses, warming a little more. "Non, non, mille tonnerres, 'tis good he has no motives!" She sighs. "Well, none but thy heart and eyes. Lucky girl!"
Seeing some of the light leaving the little bat's eyes, the ermine pouts. "Oh no, I've gone and ruint it, have I not? I am sorry, my dear, I meant it not. Thou must nowt listen to me about such things! Thou know'st full well what schemers we are, and the attentions of the sorts of boys I must suffer. I am sure thy fox is an honourable young man."
Then she smiles slyly at the last question, all impish. "Why, thou wouldst nowt want thy lovely fox stole away! I swear Oncle's flirting with Guillaume now."
"Guillaume?" You can sense some of Natalia's confusion, and it makes you wonder about her range of experience and innocence.
Natalia shakes her head a little, and continues. "I wanted to tell you soonest, but it was late last night when I arrived home. We were on a balcony, watching the stars and the lights of the city, with the moon shining so brightly. Ah, the beauty of that moment..."
"Sir Granvier, greetings. It was not my intent to be back in the area so soon, before my tasks would be completed, however the Light led me to a group of adventurers who seemed to need my aid. They uncovered treachery, and I was able to help them apprehend the criminal. However, in our investigation of that event, we came upon a medallion from the The Order of the Shattered Star. The Abbot thought you might know something about that."
"My word, out so very late as all that?" Rosza grins. "Hadst thee only just met him? Thou'rt nowt allowed to be more scandalous than me, remember."
The ermine shakes her head, but she's smiling without any pretense now and her voice holds the slightest note of wonder, not any mockery. "The moon and the stars in thine eyes. Oh S'Allumer, thou art so smitten!" She dusts off the top of the neighboring barrel and sits atop it indecorously. "Thou'lt have to tell me more of thy fox, but quick. We should copy the letters of that letter thee kept before the day's gone, such that we may hand it over to Ilaire before he finds us imprudent enough to make demands 'pon us for it."
The marbled polecat sputters, stumbles, but avoids careening into the barrel Natalia is perched on. He does put a hand to the cap to steady himself however, attempting to regain his appearance of nonchalance.
"What was that? I could swear you just implied thine oncle was directing affections toward mine person."
He looks faux-thoughtful for a moment, in the style of a famous statue or seventeen. "Hm, I can scarce think it would be worse to be the object of Juste Apollinaire's desires than dear Penelopé Simone. I should be safe from abduction then at least."
Well, there isn't that much to speak of," Natalia answers. "He happened to be speaking with the Professors that I spoke to about those items we found, and introduced to me that way. And the Professors and I did a great deal of research and studies, so I did not have that many moments with him. To be honest, our time together was not overlong, much as I wished." Natalia, though claiming she spent little time with him, can still recall his appearence enough that you should be able to recognize him if you encountered him.
"Ah, that reminds me! Those broken pieces we recovered are old, maybe dating back to the time of the Autarch. Anyway, it is yet another mystery that has landed in our grasps."
"Reguarding the letter, would it not be better for us to hold the original, and to give Ilaire a copy? The handwriting may prove to be distinctive as the paper, and I would hate to lose that."
Geneviève interrupts him, her frame only less massive by virtue of nature, that being a mare and not a stallion, but she is no less forceful or imposing than her twin brother. Equally white topknot of a mane waving as she strikes him with a casual backhand, she reprimands him. "Mille tonnerres, do not end her search before it has begun, petit lourdaud!"
While her brother reels in surprise (a CURSE uttered in the HALLS OF LUMINANCE! UNTHINKABLE!) Geneviève fills you in. "Forgive Granvier, he does so adore the...expected behavior of our station. To actually give you an answer, the two of us were raised in a town in the northwest of Avoirdupois lands, only a few leagues from Auriville on the Doloreaux border. The tor outside the town is dominated by a crumbling ruin of a castle, arranged in a star pattern and bearing almost illegible words above its gates. The townsfolk say it is a Motto of an old Order of the Light, a tale our teachers were...not disposed to well, shall we say. But now I wonder..."
Her brother, for his part, harrumphs and doesn't agree, but doesn't disagree either.
Javiera listened to her tutors, absorbing that tidbit of information that the group might want to investigate later, once this party was over.
"Does sound like a good place to start an investigation. If the group I travel with does uncover something, I will keep the two of you informed. It could be a fools errand, but still, it might be worth looking into, at least to fill a gap in the historical records." She said, as she tapped her finger on her side. "Bringing light to the darkness of the mind would be a noble cause, would it not?"
For her part Geneviève rolls her eyes and whips her tail at him. "Yes, I've heard it so many times I'll fain forget it until I do. Hm...that sounds like that castle, doesn't it? Patience and Gravity to Outlast the Seal or somesuch nonsense. Well then young lady, will you be joining us for the morning exercises? I know it's been awhile since you've adjusted to the day cycle, especially out with all those wolves and other night-kin, but we should enjoy the company of someone that actually knows how to hold their blade once again. Or I suppose you could go bother Good Fredic and the du Sang hopefuls. They always need a weather eye out for them. Perhaps raid the scroll-hounds' home for useful information about the ancient castles of our homelands?"
You remember rather pointedly that Geneviève was always DOING something, and that Granvier was more the sort to engage in reflection and only act when informed and necessary.
"You, Guillaume, abducted by Penelope? I have not heard the details of this, pray tell, could you enlighten me?" Natalia asks of the interupting Guillaume. "For in truth, Madonna Rosza has not mentioned your abduction to me at all, and my ears twitch with curiosity."
"But, did you intrude just to boast of your prowess and show off your physique, or have you something to say of import?"
"Oh do not worry so about Penny, Madonna. She is overeager, and certainly I am frightened of her...predatorial advances, but it is a simple thing to avoid her, or misdirect her affections onto someone else that will not entrap us both should she succeed in her dastardly aims."
After another moment he finally drops the silly pretenses and dusts himself off to face you directly. "Well, import. I had seen a likely looking seller of writing implements among other woody things, over yonder by that suspiciously well-off chap hawking books."
"And here I thought the tightness of your pantaloons was because of Madonna Rosza's over-generous feeding of you, and your storing the excess for the cold weather," Natalia retorts with a laugh.
"But the shrinkage of your pantaloons and secretive exploits with Penny aside, you said that you had found something of import. So let us proceed to yon seller. We will follow behind you to the location."
Natalia hops down from the barrel, and then laughs. "Close behind, Guillaume, to see your wonderous strut of your loins."
Let it not be said that a polecat doesn't listen to his betters. He obligingly struts across the market piazza, leading you to a storefront emblazoned as "Yuri's Scratchings," which doesn't sound much like a shop that sells fine paper and implements and inks, but there's at least one other finely dressed lady shopping, and a somewhat less fanciful red fox male in the uniform of a Junior Magistrate is looking over the finer sheafs of papers, vellums, and wrinkling his nose at the parchment down the table. Perhaps he must buy such, but doesn't wish to?
The proprietor is, to your surprise, a black bear with an incredibly thick accent...yet you can still understand his Calabrese. Well-practiced it seems. "Welcome Lord and Ladies! What can Yuri offer, procure, or otherwise acquire for you today?"
The walk across the piazza must of been a bit fast for Madonna Natalia, since she's happens to be breathing a bit heavier than normal, and the exertion must have reddened her cheeks (or at least that what she will claim if asked).
"Ah, Goodman Yuri, if you could help me with a conumdrum of sorts," Natalia exclaims in her sweetest and most disarming, empty-headed voice (modeled after Deirdre). "A gentleman has sent me a letter, and I wish to use the same paper to answer with. I know that it seems strange, but you must forgive the fancies of youth, yes?" She give him what she hopes is her most charming smile.
She holds out the letter, but folded to hide the writing and keeps a firm grasp upon it so the stationaire can not read what is written.
"I think I might join you for exercises. I've beocme somewhat more skillful since I finished my own training with you, though I am probalby not at your level yet. Someday, perhaps. Javiera replied, as she smiled. Learning something new was always handy, and those two had been in the order a while before she joined. They always would have tricks to show the recruits, and some to show those who'd taken their vows as well.
"Hmmm...it's....hmmm...very nice, crisp yet soft, not too pulpy, but with enough grain to stand up to travel and use. See how it holds its fold so well? The smell! You can still smell the wood it came from! And...hm. Something else. I don't suppose you've had someone with a very keen nose take a sniff of this? It's holding something...but I don't know what. Ah....oh, Vitale, Vitale come here!"
The bear gestures to the red fox that had been browsing, who turns a bespectacled gaze over in curiosity, ambling over without further ado. He cocks his ears this way and that, licking his teeth as he examines the paper as well.
"What's this? A letter? What do you need me for...oh, the nose? Well..." He takes a sniff...then another...then another. "Hmmm...that's a fox. Middle-aged, male, unless I miss my mark entirely. He's scented the letter on purpose, for authenticity. Can't say I recognize it though. Hm. This is Dario's paper, isn't it?"
The bear nods and agrees, and apologizes that he's got no more of this fine stuff in stock, but he directs you to the paper maker Dario the ground squirrel. He lives a bit closer to Old Town, but still in the nice part of town. "Sorry I can't be of more help, Madonna. Dario doesn't really sleep though, so he'll be around should you desire to call on him. Please, if there's anything else you desire, I live to serve."
Now if only you could hold her attention. Clearly a student of the du Sang half of the Ardentines, she nearly takes a punishing blow as she's distracted by a conversation that anyone without the keen ears you share wouldn't have even heard...yet even over the clangor of battle you too can hear the bent heads of the two white mice priests walking the edge of the field.
"...tell you Brother, it's a rumor at best! Haunted? That old shop has been closed for twenty years and nothing's happened until now. I think that new owner is looking for attentions."
His companion insists of course that it's legitimate and the Church should do something, but the other won't budge.
Gwenn snaps out of her haze and apologizes profusely. "Oh, um, sorry. I'm really sorry, terribly so! Not my usual habit...guess I just got carried away. Hauntings aren't usual news here." She stands ready again, and you finish the exercises without undue interruption. After dousing to cool with water and quitting the field for noontide prayers, you find yourself eating with the clergy, where Geneviève has remembered something. "Patience and...oh foo, something else. Er, that castle ruin in our hometown, Patience was the first word carved above the gate...I can't remember the rest, and it's very worn, but that one always seemed immune to the weather and march of years."
"Why thank you Goodman Yuri," Natalia bubbles with happiness. "Would you happen to have a violet ink, one scented with flowers? I do need to have the proper ink for a reply."
When Yuri returns with the ink, Natalia happily pays out the coins requested, then draws the bear aside for a quiet chat.
"I'm embarressed to say the gentleman did not sign his missive properly, and so I've not idea whom my secret admirer is. Isn't that just so romantic? But you say you've sold out of this paper? Did any of your recent customers happen to, say, be a middle-aged fox, perchance? Or would this Goodman Dario be the one whom would know?"
Rosza Juette hangs back a bit, thoughtfully studying the bookseller's cart from a distance, not yet wandering quite close enough for that worthy to risk intruding on the market-territory of his neighbor the papetier.
For the first few moments as Natalia queries the bear, the weasel seems prepared to step in at a heartbeat's notice. She relaxes slightly thereafter, her expression curiously bemused.
And once upon a time her ears would turn so scarlet when she knew I was fibbing that I couldn't tell lies in her presence. I wonder if I have been a very bad influence on my dear friend, or perhaps a good one? Well. She's doing just fine.
She shakes her head slightly at something, then takes two swift steps into the booksellers demesne, as if her attention were caught by the broadly calligraphic strokes of slightly flaked gold leaf on one spine...Then halts as she hears the fox.
Now why didn't I think to sniff it?
The ermine recovers herself, frowns at the book as if it weren't what she expected, and lightly passes a hand along the row on the cart's lower shelf, fingertips poised but not quite touching the variously bound spines, seeming disinterested in the stacks of broadsheets. One of her ears flicks lazily at the vendor, not quite an invitation to conversation but a visible cue that she's aware of him.
Rosza Juette frowns again, mentally running down the memorized list of books and chicanery to mask them as she surveys the contents of the vendor's cart.
Fairyfloss of course, but whatever made a coin.
This particular bookseller only has the usual chapbooks and novellas popular with the emerging middle class, sordid stories and tawdry tales mostly. One or two volumes that might be of interest to students of the College, and a picture folio for children, but nothing resembling your Oncle's list.
But then...the booksellers aren't a large crowd, and they probably know their competition.
The portly dormouse blinks impassively at you, and suddenly blurts out in an unexpectedly sonorous yet squeaky voice "Summat yew wont? M'lady Oi'd luv ta serve ye, but the knowin'll help immmmmmessr'bly."
It takes some coaxing, but he eventually comes down and sits again, feverishly drinking more tea to distract himself from...things. But then he realizes he can read the book, and his curiosity takes over in full. "What is...Zhongwén! How?! And look, your paper is blank again! It is a miracle!"
You immediately notice two things: One, that any attempt to write down further passages fails, as the ink simply slides right back into the well it came from. "Stupendiferous!" says the sage!
Two, that this is still a thick text and it's transliterated from a foreign tongue, even if by magic. So you suspect the wording is not quite as perfect as you'd prefer, but it's workable.
He closes the chest and hides things that look valuable before bustling you and himself out of the house, only stopping to take a slightly fancier looking cloak off a peg by the door. Back out in the afternoon air, he seems more at ease.
"Well, I have business down at the Coster's corner o' the Docks. Don't suppose ye want to see 'em? It may not be warrior's work, but ye've got the build for it and the company always appreciates folk that can be trusted to actually do the work they pay for."
Natalia swept out of the store with grace, after thanking the bear Yuri profusely for his help.
"Now gather up your Mistress, good Guillaume, for we must amble to the next shop to find out more," Natalia instructs the weasel with good humor. "Bookseller, I never knew she was interested in literary works..."
He snorts roughly and in a very un-ferret-like way. "As if anyone could gather her up so. She'd rail and scream mightily."
He wisely said this out of her earshot, though.
"Well, luckily this is training, and not the real thing. Hopefully there won't be any kind of attacks in the courtyard, but one can never be careful. And hauntings? Something happening around town that might require someone to deal with an errant spirit?" Javiera had asked, as she'd returned to the ready position. Hopefully the instructors were keeping the novices training on avoiding distractions in the heat of battle.
She nodded to Geneviève when she reveals the first word. "So, is it their motto? Or something else, I wonder. Still, the more you remember, the closer we will be to bringing more knowledge out into the light."
Gwenn clearly knows what the heck is UP with politics, at least in this narrow area.
************
At dinner: "It could be, and if it's from a Capitular Order it's likely what would be there. The current "big three" do that at least, and history says the tradition started long before us, so I imagine your guess is correct."
Don't think I'm helping very much the one who can't figure it out himself.