The great sage seems nearly as stumped as you, though after a time he begins to hem and haw with an air of practiced focus. He seems nearly as frustrated as you, but seems to be on to something that you haven't figured out yet.
Finally he stretches and rises, casually prancing about in that gymnastic way monkeys adopt so easily. "Well, even being able to read it properly I haven't deciphered much of it. It's all references to things without any context, repeating displays of similar if not the same locations or objects...I believe that this was a volume of rituals in its time, meant to be used in conjunction with other volumes or prior learning to prepare one for the endeavors contained within. The references are likely some form of cipher to guard against outsiders or somesuch, one that transliterated imperfectly into Zhongwên. Perhaps a language closer to the time period of these "Autarchs" the Calabrians speak of would grant a better understanding? Regardless," he finishes his stretches and offers a hand to you in deference to your status, a silly monkey grin plastered on his face.
"I think that is all we shall pry from that tome today. My mind feels full and clouded after attempting such a research. Right now the only thing I care to stuff myself with is food! Care to join me? There's a Yindu yak recently arrived, makes the best curry you've ever eaten!"
Dario's house and workshop are one and the same, quite a common arrangement outside of the wealthiest Guild scions. There's the hint of a foul odor outside the ramshackle place, but it's blessedly bearable, and the alchemists are farther away in a different block of the city. The sign above the door bears a picture of a cat stirring a large barrel of something. Serviceable, though the paint is worn and chipped and the wood is cracking from water damage.
There's no knocker on the door, though it does have a knob and lock on it, so he must be able to afford some niceties. Instead of the knocker, you find another sign hanging in its place, simply saying "Come in."
Once you've done so: the innards of this miniature paper factory are dark enough that your night-eyes are comfortable, but bright enough that day species would only stub their toes once or twice moving around.
What you see are a large vat full of...some mildly odorous fiber slurry, a wooden screen-frame mold standing aside it, a low table covered in a felted wool sheet and some sheeted fibers, and another table with a few large, flat stones on it, pressing the paper properly. Above you there's a line from which several finished sheets hang drying, and you think you hear the rollers of a "calendering" machine somewhere behind the vat in a back room, where the annoyed mutterings of a cat are also coming from.
Nobody comes out to greet you.
"H-hello? Is there someone here?" Natalia calls out. "I came here to purchase some paper, please."
e possibly for good reason."
Navigating the room takes quite a bit of effort, but eventually you find yourself in a stuffy back room. It would be badly lit for anyone that didn't have keen night eyes, but the ground squirrel seems perfectly at home. Lining one wall is a set of shelves containing numerous pots of pungently odorous things, and a chest of drawers underneath is in disarray, spilling its contents out in haphazardly opened drawers and the floor.
The man that is presumably Dario sits hunched over two stacks of smooth, calendered paper. He's rubbing it with something, perhaps a preservative of some sort? He doesn't even look up from his furious work, not unlike a charcoal rubbing. "You wanted something directly? Or is Yuri out of stock again?"
The rest of the meal goes by amiably, though interrupted frequently by locals greeting Guang Shin Te, or requesting his aid at a later date. The food is excellent and fresher than you expected it to be, though made from local ingredients so it's lacking a touch in authenticity, but such is life.
Back at his home, the great sage shivers a bit and looks about. "Hm. What's that saying the Calabrians have? "Like someone just walked over my grave." Like the phoenix had fallen from the sky. Odd. Still, I must retire to my tea, and you have questions that need answering from a friend, yes? Good day then, my noble lady. May you always find what you seek."
After exchanging the proper farewells, Guang Shin Te enters his abode, and you are free to pursue other leads if you wish.
"Mm. Calendered. Smoothed. Preserved with one of the gums but which one? Too smooth for beech, too rough for a wax. Hm. Strip removed one side, for investigation of origin? Mm. Edge too rough, must correct next screens...oh. Proper gum in hand, of course, error of nearness of observation. How much did you want, and in proper currency or shall I be begging a writ at your House's door?"
"Oh, just a few sheets, if you please. Mayhaps a dozen, if it is not too much trouble?" Natalia asks, again trying for the bubble-headedness that so many 'ladies' she knows achive with no difficulty. "I'll pay for the paper here, of course. No need for you to go begging at doors, Goodman Dario. Heaven's know, you seem busy enough with your work."
"Is that sort of thing common? I mean, not paying and leaving you with an unpaid bill? How dreadful!" Natalia begins to hem and haw a bit, trying to act embarrassed (not too much of a stretch, since she does feel a bit embarrassed asking these questions). "Ah, well, you know, I have received letters, all proper of course, from a certain anonymous gentleman. And while he seems to be all so generous, I wonder if he is hiding something, like an inability to settle his affairs. I've heard rumours that he is a middle-aged fox, would any such be customers of yours?"
The ermine wrinkles her nose slightly at the broadsheet before rounding on the dormouse with what is actually one of her more pleasant smiles. "I should like to believe so, goodman, but truly I don't see what I'm after here."
She shakes her head with a sigh. "What I've been looking for is a keyed copy of Heidenberg's Polygraphiae Libri or Die Steganographia. J'préfère in Calabrese, of course, although original Magniloquentia or an Arpitan translation would be acceptable. I wouldn't mind finding one used, mind you." If for no other reason than that any notes written in the leading texts of cyphering technology would almost certainly be of interest to someone...Which is why used copies are so difficult to find. Both books were initially published as treatises on magick, much to the confusion of actual practitioners, before later being revealed to be encoded texts on the sciences of cryptography and steganography.
"Ah, mais oui, I almost forgot, again..." The ermine tugs a thin strip of paper from her pouch, uncurling it and squinting. "She's always bothering me to ask about this one. The...Third? Picky minx. Yes. Third edition of Qualme's Miscellany." Which edition doesn't exist, it would appear, save as a set of innocent-looking book covers in use for some of Uncle Apollinaire's proscribed translations of texts on Lutarism.
"I don't suppose you might know who would have such texts?"
Rosza seems entirely content to let her friend continue her successful gambit in pursuit of the paper-lead, smiling slightly as she wanders about the little shop, hands folded behind her back and trying not to breathe too deeply of the smell of the wet pulp from the back. She does, however, keep one ear cocked to the conversation...just in case.
He seems to notice for the first time that you are not so scruggy looking, and neither is your companion. "Er, beggin' your pardon ladies. Foxes you say? Hm. Well the reds are just about everywhere really, hard to say they're not customers, though most don't do it directly. I usually only get direct queries from the landed lot, trying to cut the middleman for delivery and whatnot, so that'd leave a grey...hm. Y'know I did have two of them in here a month back. Bought quite the large stock they did. Wonder why? 'S not really suitable for anything but writin' on, and most o' the greys are Rinaldi, and they've got a long 'n' storied history of makin' others do the writin' for 'em."
Further rummaging produces no steganographic books, for which the dormouse is surely apologetic, and he suggests dropping by his cousin's brother's shop a few blocks down tucked back in the cul-de-sac of the Mountain-Plume street (Why anyone would name a street after the fabled Akoman volcanoes is beyond you), and offers you the name of an eccentric collector known to him on a rough strip of parchment in crabbed handwriting. Marsilio Carafa.
Perhaps wondering why anyone would adopt the name of service-ware, your ponderings are cut short by a sneaky sneak attack: Guillaume sprinting up as you're distracted, sweeping you up into his arms, pirouetting once and promptly depositing you back on the ground. "Come come Rosza Juette, pay the man, we've a lead to follow!"
"Really? Only two foxes? Could I trouble you for their names?" Natalia querys hopefully. "One of them might possibly be my secret admirer who wrote me such a moving missive on the self-same paper, and then I could decide on how to respond to his communiqué. Oh, please kind sir, please?"
What happens next is something that, were you not versed in actual magicks, you probably would have called magick. Dario takes some ink and a sheet of paper and produces a nigh-impossibly detailed, true-to-life sketch the likes of which should be hanging in the homes of the well-heeled all about Calabria...in five minutes. With a quill pen, and old half-dry ink. How has such a talent been kept here in the dark, making paper?
He quickly dries the sketch and preserves it to keep the ink from smudging and fading overmuch.
And it turns out said sketch is rather more helpful than anticipated: these are the exact figures of Aurelio and Lucrezia di Rinaldi.
Natalia stares openmouthed for a bit at the pictures, nay, portraits! She recovers and to cover her surprise...
"What fabulous drawings! Can you do one of me? On a very nice sheet of this paper, or a better paper if you have such? I'll gladly pay...!"
She quietly rolls up the sketch while waxing over Dario's skill. Her excitement over the newly revealed artistry is not entirely feigned.
'...I wonder if Luigi would want a picture of myself...it would be a nice gift...I wonder if I could get Luigi here, and have his portait made for myself...'
He does begin sketching you though, taking more time than the last since he happens to have a reference on hand. It still seems like no time at all before he's finished and hands you your portrait, stunning as it is.
Natalia takes the drawing with obvious delight. She pays the sum he asks (or, if he doesn't ask for money, presses money upon him).
"Guillaume! I must have this mounted and framed, soonest! What, don't tell me you know of no such places! Ah, how Madonna Rosza ever survives with you dragging her down with your incomptence? Truely, she must be made of stern stuff to overcome your lacks!" Natalia teases Guillaume mercilessly. "What? Gather together my papers from the Goodman Dario, and let us be off, so as not to disturb his busy day further. And mind you, don't wrinkle the sheets. Much thanks again to you, Goodman Dario, for all that you've done today!" She leaves the shop, bursting with energy.
He follows you out with Rosza.
After Natalia leaves the shop and gets a distance from it, her demeanor changes.
"Ah, Guillaume, you can let me have my paper now. <sigh> I can guess the identity of the persons Dario drew for us, as I've seen their likenesses before. But I'm afraid that their buying such paper may not be so key, as other buy such paper too."
"And I am uncertain as to why they would be involved, although perhaps you or Madonna Rosza could ferret out some clue."
Natalia unrolls the picture in question. "Unless I am mistaken, this is a picture of Aurelio and Lucrezia di Rinaldi, twins, and the oldest surviving siblings of the dearly departed Don Rinaldi."
Rosza looks entirely confused at the book, even going so far as to leaf through a few pages. "Are you sure this is...?" She mumbles to the dormouse, then is interrupted by Guillaume's pounce. "Arretez la! A moment!" she thumps the polecat in the chest with the closed text, batting at him lightly with it to gain space before riffling through the book's pages again and re-reading the inscription on the cover and spine in a display of further puzzlement.
"I don't think this is the right text? Are not miscellanies usually, oh...Chymical and alchymical receipts? Or poetry, extracts and figments? Poultices and ink-making and doing-things and such, aren't they? This looks like...I know not what!"
"A binder's mistake, perhaps? Is this the only copy you have? Perhaps another copy would be correct, or I must ask of my sister to be sure she indeed has the right book in mind." She offers the thin volume back to the merchant, looking somewhat put-out.
(Because if you do have more copies, little mouse, I shall have a bone to pick with you later.)
There are surely any number of ways to make a twitchy weasel like Rosza miss her footing. Penelopé could undoubtedly provide a short list of possibles, but it seems Natalia's revelation will do the trick in a pinch.
When she recovers herself she leans close enough to whisper, as this is obviously no idea to bandy about in the street. "...That would be, dear friend, the twins, oldest surviving and therefore most likely to inherit any power that should fall into the Rinaldi's hands if, say, the merchants fell from power by means of some firelock-armed rebellion? Would those be the twins you mean?"
"One could not imagine why they might be involved, then." Rosza looks studiously ahead, then pauses a moment as if the hem of her cloak had gotten caught upon the carved post in front of a neighboring shop, taking the opportunity of 'freeing' it to look down the street in the other direction. The furred nape of the ermine's neck is bristling as if before a thunderstorm.
"How fortunate that it should be quite easy to find samples of their handwriting, hm? Or so one might imagine. Perhaps even at the Academy?"
Natalia puzzles over the implications that Rosza mentions.
"But that doesn't make much sense," she whispers back. "The Rinaldi still hold power, even if it isn't as much as other land's nobles do. And there is still the missing heir, Fabrizio, who would have the actual claim, not to mention Madam Amalsand's son, Vaslov."
"And even the other noble houses, the Avoirdupois, the Dolloreaux, and the Bisclavret, could not seize Triskellian, how could a mob of untrained gunmen do in the face of the Sailor's guild?"
"I would guess that their might be something written by Aurelio di Rinaldi at the Academy, so we should check."
Natalia seems a bit preoccupied on the return to Dunwasser.
'...I hope Luigi isn't involved with this...could that be why he sought me out?...am I just a piece in the Rinaldi's game, and nothing more...' she thinks, as doubts eat away at her.
Rosza removes her broad-brimmed hat and engages herself in brushing the day's accumulation of dust and ash from it, occasionally twisting this way and that to ensure none of this residue ends up on her tiny companion. "Old friend, I know thee hast escaped many of the connivances of nobility. The stars always look so clean in the night sky, yes?" It becomes apparent that the ermine is using this behavior to try to conceal that she's peering around herself in an even more paranoid state than usual. "But believe me when I say owt that is connived among the Houses must necessarily make sense...Even less so, an' it were plotted by one of the gray-tails."
"They hold far less power than they once did, or should desire, hmmm? ...and they see what power remains threatened at every turn. The Don's treasures and holdings are under lock and key until summat resolves that claim. And who pays the Constabulary in this city?" The ermine smoothes the plume of her hat and re-settles it upon her head, cocking it rakishly. "Perhaps, real or forged, something has come to light about the missing heir. Perhaps some members of the Guild Council have been bribed...And others not. Perhaps other strings await pulling to remove...Or place blame upon...Fabrizio and Vaslov, and any others who might stand in their way. Perhaps they feel commoners with guns could surround the Town Hall with the Guild-masters within and make credible threat before the Sailor's Guild could respond."
And now Rosza is fiddling with her the frogs of her baldric as if her rapier were somehow not hanging properly. "Or perhaps the behavior of my own siblings makes me too ready to suspect such outrageous things of others. To me, thy family always had the most peculiarly stable and supportive seeming. Thou dost not keep sprigs of vince-venenum about to chew in case of poisoning, and I don't think thou hast slept with a pistol 'neath thy head. But then, now-a-days all the air is thy weapon to hand." The ermine is starting to sound more and more nervous.
"I know not. Perhaps monkeys have grown wings and plot to fly. I know nowt of what IS, but I suspect that by determining if the writings do match, if we find the hand is or is not that of one of the twins, then wilt we have a clearer idea at least of who next to make study of, hmm? My little mind is only so twisty, an' it seems watching thee, well..."[/B] Rosza shrugs apologetically. "Thou'rt quickly catching me up. I'd blame the company thee hast kept."
"Sorry, eyes not what they used to be. Been holdin' onto that one for a week now, buyer never came for it and I shan't be holdin' it longer hopefully, if it finds you pleased."
Sometimes being here is exhausting just to listen to people. However, knowing what you know about the school and nobility, if anything is here bearing Aurelio's penmanship (or Lucrezia's for that matter), it would likely be a donation to hold ink most recently, so 'twould be to the Bursar's Office you go!
"Madonna Rosza, Modonna Quinn is here! I should speak with her, because she has some of those metallic artifacts! But we also must speak with someone to find a sample of script! And I had another small errand too! What shall I do?"
Natalia is almost spinning in space, trying to decide what to tend to first. You suspect her private errand isn't that high on the list, but she is caught between helping you and seeing her visitor (you suspect her noblesse oblige has caught up with her).
"So then we seek out another sample of the writing to compare," Natalia concurs, still worrying about letting Quinn wait.
"We might find a sample of his writing at the Bursar's Office, if he made a recent donation to the Academy...but what excuse do we use? I confess that I have no idea on how to ask for a letter from Aurelio di Rinaldi, do you?"
Which does nominally raise the question of just how many books Rosza might know Uncle was missing.
"Ah, I see yer trouble M'lady. Tell ye what, you get down to that there shop I told yew about and they'll make sure you get what you're looking for nice and quiet like. And if they don't have it that Carafa fellow will." He winks broadly and a mite too obviously for your taste.
Quinn is waiting patiently where she was asked to wait, though she begins to wonder if they actually went to inform Natalia or if they just left her here waiting. After awhile, she gets up and starts looking around.
"Rosza! I told you that those items we found at Harrowgate were ancient! Don't you listen to me?"
Natalia pauses in thought for a moment. "If we include Madonna Quinn, that would make the idea of an expedition more believable. Expeditions with Zhongguonese are popular now."
"I'll just get Madonna Quinn, and then we can go to the Bursar's Office to try to get the sample of writing!"
Natalia scampers off to the sitting room to find Quinn.
Quinn decides she has waited enough and decides to go looking for Natalia herself, and opens the door just as Natalia was open to do so from the other side. "I was beginning to wonder if they actually decided to inform you or just leave me waiting. Hope I didn't interrupt anything important." Quinn bows a bit at Natalia and holds the door open until Natalia heads off somewhere, when Quinn will then follow.
"Madonna Quinn, so nice to see you," Natalia says, recovering her wits as Quinn opens the door just before she could. She bows deeply in respect also, and throws a curtsy in as well.
"Could you come with me and Madonna Rosza for a brief bit of time? We are following up on clues that we found at the shipping company, and have to disguise our questioning. So if you could just follow along and trust us, we'll explain things completely after this. Please?"
Natalia looks pleadingly at Quinn, hoping she understands that something is happening, but time for explanations is currently short.
"Asking locals anything would be best left to you anyway, so I don't mind, though I have some questions as well when we get the chance. Lead the way, Madonna Ivanova." Quinn replies, taking up Natalia's form of address, at least here in more public spaces, and returning the bow.
Natalia happily leads Quinn back to where she left Rosza, and then on to the Bursar's Office.
"Hello, I have an inquiry," Natalia says when they arrive.
[ooc]Quinn: Just reread the sideboard, it has what you wanted to ask currently. What you wanted to ask about at the party happens later, so we have another meeting tomorrow.
The Bursar's Office is fairly plain for Dunwasser, but the man who fills the chair behind the sturdy oak desk has been there for generations and likes things to be plain, accountable, and above all clean.
The aged male red fox, mostly gray these days, coughs a bit to clear his throat and asks in a reedy voice "An inquiry? Into what? And for what reason...Madonna Ivanova, is it? And two of your friends."
"Well, it is a long story," Natalia begins. "It has to do with the discovery of some ancient artifacts, and a Zhongguo connection, as represented here by my compatriot, Madonna Quinn Hildring."
"We were thinking of an expidition to check out these possible connections, but unfortunately are limited in funds to launch such an expidition." natalia looks sorrowful as she says this.
"Not wanting to burden the Dunwasser Academy for finacial backing, I was wondering if I might peruse recent letters from Noble donors to see if perhaps one of them might be inclined to to be interested in helping fund such an expidition."
She smiles her sweetest smile, hoping that her story was convining enough.
"Funding.......? For an expedition.....? To the Middle Kingdom? Have you....spoken to...the Dottora Pieret about this? You have? Hm. Hmmm. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Indeed...the letters of those who could conceivably aid you are...right here in my desk, actually."
He pulls out a thin stack of the finest papers, vellums, and parchments wrapped in a green ribbon topped with a fox's head, and hands the stack to you as he rises unsteadily. "If you'll...excuse me...I have an appointment with...an easy chair...and a sunbeam. Do leave those on the desk once you've finished, and lock the door on the way out, would you? I'd be so grateful."
The Bursar disappears into some corner sub-office, and you're left alone with the pile of letters. Truly a sign of Dunwasser's wide reach and reputation, there are donors from all across Calabria, including the families making up the Great Houses. One or two are even signed by the heads of those Houses themselves!
Finding a letter from the Rinaldi is easy enough, there's more than a few of them, though the most recent one is actually signed by Don Fidelio. The handwriting in the letter's body, however, is very similar to the terse letter you carry. Perhaps the Don was foisting off his lesser duties to his siblings? It wouldn't be the first time a noble delegated responsibilities.
The ermine looks surprised when Natalia returns with Quinn, but she bows and doffs her hat politely. "Ah, so you're joining us in our merry little hunt, hm?"
Rosza Juette seems to be becoming more adept at paper shuffling as time goes on, dividing the lot up into little piles for everyone's perusal. She also seems perhaps a touch too curious as she tries to sift them, her own searching rather slowed as she keeps eyeing the contents of various letters rather than simply assessing the hand they're written in.
"Out of curiousity, my dear friend, knowing what you might as...hm...a student of the College, if you were a noble who wished to obligate to yourself some collegiate sorts who might be counted on to present you with interesting magical insight or backing in the event of, say, a lessening in the status of the merchant guilds...or perhaps even some sort of resolution of the departed Don's affairs? ...Is there a department or branch of the faculty you might choose to endorse? I'm not even sure what I might mean, or I wouldn't ask. Alchymystry, medicaments and poisoning? Scrying and eaves-dropping? Forbidden terrible secrets?"
The ermine peers after the Bursar and rummages (quietly) through a few drawers and other piles of paper before finding a palm-sized lens set into a short-handled wooden frame. "Mhm." She hands the magnifying glass over to Natalia as the suspect letter is laid alongside the "Don"'s handwriting.
"What think you? I don't know that I'd care to stand before a bailiff about it, with nowt more evidence to show. But betwixt the three of us...These look much alike to me."
"Truly Rosza, I don't know of any one department that would fit. I would think that you would want the whole of the Academy..."
So Natalia said, but her thoughts took a different path.
'...it might be worth the trouble to get a Star Elementalist on your side...is that why Luigi sought me out?...'
"Rosza, put that back. You shouldn't be rummaging through those drawers anyway," she hisses when Rosza finds the reading glass.
"Yes, I would say they do match, but it doesn't really indicate who wrote the letter. It could have been Aurelio di Rinaldi writing this for his older brother, or it could be a secretary writing the letter for the Don's signature too. I will admit that the trail does lead towards the di Rinaldi or their servants, but that is all I can say at this point."
"What do you think of the handwriting, Dearest Quin? Would you say it was the same?"
"So Quinn, what do I owe the honor of your visit? Did you have something to speak to me about?" Natalia asks Quinn later, after the whole mess in the Bursar's was done.
Using her newly acquired ink and paper, Natalia writes a small note.
Dearest Signore Luigi Christoforo di Rinaldi,
Thank you for your aid and hospitality last night. I am sure that your time is precious, and hope that our occupying so much of it was as delightful to you as it was to myself.
I have included a small token of my thanks, and hope that you may find some favorable use for it.
Sincerely,
Madonna Natalia Ivanova, House Repense
She folds the letter carefully, and seals it with wax and her signet, and attaches it to the rolled up ink sketch of her that the papermaker Dario had drawn.
She then seeks out one of the nearby messenger services, and dispatches the note and drawing to the house where Luigi had entertained them last night. Hopefully he would receive it soon.
"The writing indeed looks similar, though I would hardly be good witness for your simple scripts." she says with no hint of insult at all.
Quinn ansswerss her questions in a quiet voice, as though avoiding evesdroppers, "I have a few bits of info to ask you about. Names, dates, a strange symbol, and some wierd lettering. If we can go somewhere private, Rosza of course is welcome though."
"Its quiet enough here," Natalia replies. "Wait, you found something in Zhounggo about what we found? That's wonderful!"
Quinn looks at the door the burser left through, then after a moment pulls out her notes and a pen. Several sheets have names and dates and one has the symbol from the book with a comparison to the tube's symbol. On one of the emptier sheets Quinn draws a couple words that she remembered from the book. "Not from Zhongguo though, that's why I wanted to ask you about them. The first time I wrote these words they translated themselves."
"Not from Zhounggou?" Natalia sounds disappointed.
Looking at the words Quinn has produced, Natalia quirks an eyebrow.
"I guess we should straighten up in here, and then move to the Library, so I can get some references on these." She leads the way in both the straightening up (being neat about her task), and to the Library (which is very quiet).
"Please let me see those terms again, Dearest Quinn." She scans the paper, mentally deciding upon which references she might need.