I'll help bring the parts in from the lab if you want sir Isama volunteers.
"Thank you, Isama, please do so." Castor nods.
"Please, take a seat. If you feel like it." he addresses the goblin upon entering the room. "I am sorry about the mess." he smiles.
By the time the crew enters, Diene is already mopping it up. "Ah, sorry, wasn't quick enough."
Isama moves the body and other parts from the gardener into a cart and trundles it into the interrogation room a few minutes after everyone else is settled in.
Mia keeps in the background, trying to be near the constructs.
She attempts to scan them for weaknesses&faults.
If this eloquent little Goblin is behind this, we may end up facing these things...
Would he profit from the Academie burning down? Do the services of these Constructs and summoned Servants overlap in some way?
The goblin looks askance at the bloodstain, but still enters.
Victor quickly goes through the parts. He looks disappointed.
"Well, I'll take these back and see what I can work out. Obviously I'm recompensing the Academie for the damage until I can prove this wasn't a malfunction."
He reaches into a large belt pocket - and reaches deeply enough it seems to be extradimensional.
"I am quite grateful to the Guard for preventing greater damage - I understand it could have been much worse. While I have already thanked the Guard as a whole, I understand I owe you in particular a debt of thanks."
"Mr. Wordwriter, let me ask: does this phrase have any meaning to you?..."
Mia tries to remember the words the Construct said while she was near it to shield Diene.
While it may be in a language she does not understand, she tries to repeat them as accurately as possible.
Isama coughs and crouches a bit to get on the level of the goblin.
Sir, if you don't mind me sayin'. You don't seem exactly surprised by what you're seeing in your machine. Were you expectin' for something like this to happen?
She tries to be as friendly as possible with her pointed questions.
Diene rolls her eyes.
Castor is silent and waits for further development.
He pulls out ten platinum pieces, putting them on the table.
"Hmmm - that's goblin. A Paean to Zarongel - goblin god of fire."
"Surprised? No. I suppose not. There's nothing here to indicate anything other than malfunction. But then, I expected that."
"As I said, it is possible this is nothing other than a malfunction. I'm certainly having to treat it as such. That said, I've a number of rivals with the skills to pull something like this off without leaving evidence."
"My rivals are facing ruin. My new techniques allow me to create a fifth generation construct like this for perhaps ten thousand gold. The extant models with the same capabilities cost twice, even three times that."
"This incident is going to cost me clients. The forty thousand I'm spending on the Academie is nothing compared to what the rumours of this will do to my sales."
He looks at you, obviously expecting sympathy.
...He looks at you, obviously expecting sympathy...
"Well, an actual list of said rivals could help if you want us to investigate them."
"The use of goblin religious dogma does point some fingers, but unless we were dealing with a drooling fanatic it seems unlikely the culprit would leave such obvious clues willingly. Thus; a set-up is the most logical option. However - it would be unprofessional of the Guard not to investigate such an obvious lead, even trough the conclusion seems forgone." Ophelia recites in an empty voice. "I hope this is agreeable to you Mister Wordwriter? Barring exceptional circumstances, that part of the investigation will be swift and discreet."
Won't your competitors go after the other machine's you've sold? And beggin' your pardon sir but we need evidence to do what we do. There must be some sort of trail they leave behind or at least some way we can 'dentify the sort of equipment that would be able to do something like this.
"Aha! But you see I'm not goblin. While I was born a goblin, my people regarded my intelligence as a flaw! I learned to read and write from a captured spellbook and was expelled from my tribe! Since I came here to civilisation I have been a practicing, orthodox Urgathoan." he fishes in a belt pouch and pulls out a gorgeous golden Urgathoan holy symbol. "Obviously I don't spread that around, but I can bring witnesses."
"If there was goblin religious dogma it is probably because my rivals planted it!"
"As for a list... it would simply be me listing the thirty or forty most powerful crafting wizards in the city. I'm sure they'd never risk doing anything themselves. It will all be done through cutouts."
"I suggest I put you on a retainer, and if you see anything that suggests one of my machines has gone rogue, you do your best to fix it quietly and investigate. I can promise I will be most generous should that happen."
You get the feeling he doesn't actually want you to investigate.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"So, if I read that correctly, you want to pay us extra to bump any tips you give us a few levels up on the priority list? Sounds pretty standard." Diene mulls it over for a few seconds before shrugging, and putting her feet up on the table.
"Juuust wanna say though, be aware that giving us money doesn't give ya power to order us around like your bodyguards. Allow me to demonstrate." Taking one foot off the table, she puts it under the table, giving her a point to squeeze and then pull herself close the table at an angle. Turning her torso to face the table, she sunk down so her mouth was just out of view.
She put her hands on the table, all the fingers down like the legs of a puppet, other than the middle finger that was the head.
"Ahehem." She cleared her throat before moving her head over to the left hand puppet and facing the other.
"Ya done messed up, Brinholdt." She gave a terrible "cowboy" twang to her voice, moving her middle finger to "talk" with the puppet.
"I funded this whole operation, John! Don't blame me that someone in your op tipped off the police." She shifted her head now to the right, facing left, eyes level with her puppet.
"There's no one on my crew'd turn me for money," 'John' spoke again, 'looking' towards Diene herself. Diene gave an "Nooosir!" in her normal voice, before giving a stage whisper to the audience, "Still haven't, technically." Getting back in character, "But ya value money a lot, Brinholdt, and the reward for my crew be a fair bit higher than the operation's cost. KKKKTCCH!" She half raised her pointer finger, keeping it curled after the second knuckle and giving it one squeeze at the sound effect.
"Wha... What? How dare you accuse me!" 'Brinholdt' took a half step backwards.
"Not accusin'. I can tell a rat from a dog."
"I... I.. Can pay you! The vault! I'll tell you the code to the vault."
"Hmm... Fair. Might think twice if that's the prize."
"It's 795234!"
"D, check it." Again, 'John' faced Diene.
"It's good, John." And she responded.
"Hmm, fair's fair." 'John' waited a few moments. "Nope, still a rat. PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW!" Diene stretched and clenched her pointer finger a few times to mimic crudely the fire of a gun.
"Blllaaarg!" Diene had 'Brinholdt' fall over.
"Sparkles, cleanup." 'John' once again is talking to his crew, and this time Diene, moves 'John' to make the new crew.
"Wizzy magic kadabra.... Blood begone!" Diene spoke in a higher, exaggeratedly "girly" voice. 'Sparkles' waved her head around in a wooshy circle, and Diene pulled 'Brinholdt' off the table.
"Gosh, why'd you have to shoot him so many times, boss?" Diene turned to a puppet she put back in 'John's' last spot.
"Well, we can be affordin a few more rounds with this prize, and money can't cover no sins."
"So, we clear?" Diene faced up at Viktor to get his reaction to her... performance.
Daria feels sympathy for the Goblin, but quickly picks up on a specific part of what he said: "Fix it quietly and investigate? Investigation means finding out what kind of tampering has been done. So, considering you trust us enough to investigate on your behalf, I do expect you will show us how maintainance on these constructs is performed? On our investigation on the gardener, we seem to have had little success- surely it's in your best interest if we gain understanding about the inner workings of these machines? If you are even willing to pay us, you do consider us trustworthy, right?"
Not a goblin? Hmm. Tilting her head to the side and leaning just a little bit closer Ophelia examined Viktor again, trying to spot where she went wrong. But no, he still looked goblin. Fascinating. Is the it delutional?
"Pardon me Mr. Wordwriter, but you do exhibit all the physical signs of being a 'Goblin'. Regardless of spiritual or mental state."
"But that won't be proper protocol, then. If one of your constructs goes berzerk, and we allow you, as owner, to lead the investigation on whats wrong with them, that will not shine a good light on us. You are, after all, affiliated with yourself, so people may believe if you were to blame, you could fudge the results, causing them to question any result that does not point towards yourself as the culprit. To proof without a doubt that you are, in fact, innocent and were framed, we would need an independent technician, or do it in-house...I am aware this complicates matters, but surely you understand this dilemma? I just believed it would be in your best interest if we don't need to contract an unaffiliated expert- rather than someone you can trust..."
With the last words, Mia reaches for one of the Platinum Pieces, playing around with it.
Unfazed Ophelia rambles on in her emotionally neutral voice.
"The implication is, of course, that if the previously mentioned 'religious dogma' was indeed planted, that the planter would neither be familiar with your religious beliefs nor your racial self identification. Which is strange. There seems to be no reason to belive that at least the second half is hard to find out, Mr Wordwriter, given that your surname itself implies a schism with standard goblin racial animosity."
Which implies either a carefully groomed façade or a really low-effort job. The later rimes badly with his stated suspects - unless they are struck by arrogance?
"And I must regretfully inform you Mr Wordwriter that there doesn't seem to be any additional goblins present." Ophelia falls silent for a moment and follows his eyes to Diene. When she speaks again a little hint of amusement enters her voice, but it quickly disappears again in favour of neutrality. "But rest assured, Officer Diene psy-examination with admirable efficiency."
"...And as Officer Mia alluded, there is Protocol to follow. Firstly it is the guards duty to rule out the most accessible solutions. In this case, the creator of the berserk construct. §12:5, 'On the Authority of the Guard', rules that this will take the form of at least an interview with the subject, as presently in motion, and an inspection of the zone of fabrication, which will follow. In common terms this implies a search of the premises. Since there are no tangible reason to suspect the subject at the moment, except religious and racial circumstances proven somewhat misguiding in the interview, this search will take place in a civil and orderly fashion. You may, of course, elect to be present during the investigation to safeguard your property."
Castor stays back and watches the exchange with interest.
Never thought such a discussion can be so enlightening in regards to my new colleagues.
Victor looks at Mia, then Ophelia.
"Am I being threatened by a construct?. How dare you."
He looks back at Mia
"Trust is important. The secret is knowing who you can trust. Potentially I could work with you on the issue - but my trade secrets are worth a fortune and must remain inviolate. Some of my rivals might want to discredit me. All of them want my secrets."
Diene's head goes back and forth a few times between the speakers. She then leans into Castor and whispers something.
Completely oblivious to the secret messages and hidden meanings flying around the room Isama just stands there with a concerned, and somewhat confused, expression.
Sir. All Ah'm really concerned about is the safety of the people of this city. How can we make certain that what happened in the Academie don't happen elsewhere? Can't you make a visit to your constructs and give 'em some extra tinkering so they're tamper proof? Maybe even more resilient? Customers love that sorta attention. Would be good advertisin' for your machine men even.
Isama draws on her nascent knowledge of business and speaks in a conciliatory fashion.
Castor leans closer and whispers.
He continues listening to the conversation.
"Of course they will want the secrets. I am but a mere guard and curious how they work. But of course we would handle sensitive information with the utmost secrecy! If you can't trust the guard, who can you trust? We are a cornerstone of a functioning society."
"All kinds of sensitive information."
"I've already spent a fortune on protections. I suppose I could add more - it does make sense. My issue is that even mentioning that we're preventing an issue is simply going to make people aware it is happening."
"A number are on lease. I'll upgrade the protections as they come in for maintenance. The ones that have been sold on were because the owners didn't want me doing anything - usually for confidentiality reasons. Still, there are only..." he considers "Let me see. Six. Yes, six that are both owned and one of the new generations."
He explains further "The simpler models are so close to the normal designs that my rivals would be cutting their own throats if they sabotaged them."
To Mia: "I'm impressed you can deliver that with a straight face. The Guard work for the Council. The Council are primarily high powered crafters. My rivals are high powered crafters. I'm aware of the politics involved - even if you aren't."
"Still, while I'm not sure I trust the guard, I might trust a guard with some of my secrets - but I would have to know them very well."
"I can deliver it with a straight face because while we ultimately work for the council, we are bound by a whole different set of rules. Also, it's us out there, risking our lives to keep citizens of all kinds save. That allows us a way to look at things in a way that higher ups may not. Out there, we only have our team to back us up. No high-ranking council member will come and save our lives."
Mia is not even trying to hide her distain for the higher higher-ups, implying that guards have to look out for themselves and their colleagues, first and foremost.
"And they pay us a salary that makes many guards look for a second job, just to be able to lead a decent life. So you may be aware of the politics up on higher levels, I'm aware of the real situation us low-ranking guards face, and thats quite disconnected from any politicking and a lot more about survival and gaining any advantage we can over our adversaries.", she adds as an afterthought.
"I can see my understanding may have been coloured by whom I deal with. You make a fascinating point Guard Sorceror. I'd love to discuss it later tonight - I have a share in 'savoureux cochon', perhaps there? But I fear we're a little off our path."
"With your permission, Guard Sergeant, I'd like to start my investigation."
A threat? Most interesting! Content to atleast have informed Victor of due process - and perhaps gained a little extra morsel of information with his reaction - Ophelia remained silent as to not antagonize him further. In fact, she didn't do much at all, just continued to look at him while being perfectly still and unblinking. She doubted that a still construct would unnerve the 'goblin'?, but it was her bit of fun.
Supports his claims. Curios. Mayhaps I should give Mia something that makes her taste bad, just in case ... Fish-oil? Hmm, but that would no doubt ruin the mood. Something else perhaps...
"Certainly, Mr. Wordwriter. At what time should I be there?"
Isama shoots Daria a look. Maybe we should confer sep'retly
"I am not sure she will be available tonight, Mr. Wordwriter, I have to check the roster. Also we sometimes get emergency calls and I am afraid we cannot spare her, if something occurs. She will let you know later, if you agree." Castor says.
He gives Castor a strange look "I see..."
He coughs
"Forgive me for being blunt. I wouldn't want you to be called away before we're finished. Those who are interested in helping me to preserve my good name will not find me ungrateful. Call on me when you can."
"Gentlemen. Ladies. My card." he then proceeds to hand out a card with his name and address to each of you except Ophelia.
He orders one of his warriors to bag and pick up the broken construct.
"Well, gosh, we tripped over ourselves a time and a half."