Nestis resorts to old habit.
He licks the air, tasting it for traces of the purloined pastries.
He then muses on profiling a thief of such items. What chain of life events would lead a sentient to end up on such a course.
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"Tarts. Jelly Tarts. Jelly Tarts. Jelly Tarts. Jelly Tarts." Teegor rolls the words around in his mouth while he surveys the kitchen of utensils and ingredients. He climbs on the tables and the shelves gathering what he needs: pots, pans, utensils, fruits, flour, sugar, butter and everything else. He climbs all over the kitchen.
When assembled, he starts preparing the pastries. In each one, he hides secret ingredients that he found in the kitchen, so each fruit pastry is a little different.
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Seeing Nestis rely on investigation, Mark opts to go with bullying and intimidation. He starts demanding the thief's identity, the first person who refuses them gets This.
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You manage to find the ingredients, but make a mess in the process. Cooks and other help moan and whimper, but you block them out as you work with single minded determination. You don't even notice that Nilelane has disappeared.
After some bullying and investigating, along with a slight misadventure involving a wrong turn and a kobold komedy klutch, you eventually find yourself hot on the trail of the jelly tart bandit. You believe you have him cornered in a room ahead. How do you approach the situation?
Teegor pauses for a second to digest the whimpering sous chefs.
Mark will wait a moment to see if one of the others wants to take point or he will.
"Oh, I think I can manage something similar.", Nestis says jovially.
He quietly approaches the door, pokes his head around so that he can see the thief, and calls in a soft and pleasant tone:
"Please come out so we can have a chat!"
The tarts turn out perfect. Despite the mess you have left behind, the kitchen staff are in awe of your skill.
Nestis' words do not have the effect he had hoped for, spooking the large lizard-ish thing into hiding.
The large lizard-ish thing with red scales, black horns and claws, bat-like wings, and a smear of jelly around its maw.
"You're not to f#$kin' smart, are you?" Mark asked before continuing: "You stole food from the f#$king meal, and decided decided to hide here? Do you want to die? Return the motherf^%king tarts or we'll haul you to the dragons and YOU can explain to them why you thought stealing from them would be a good idea."
While Teegor guards his tarts, he starts to clean up. Washing equipment. Putting things away. He looks to local sky’s chefs for advice on where to store items. But primarily he protects his pastries.
Nestis starts tapping his rapier against the wall to a create a menacing beat, mirroring Mark's words.
After a little while, you have gotten everything cleaned and the kitchen staff seems quite happy with you. As you stand guard over the jelly tarts, there's a commotion at one of the doors into the kitchens. Kobolds and other scaly folk scurry out from the path of a worried-looking, golden-eyed redhead with something a little off about her. She spots you and makes a bee-line for you.
"You haven't seen my younger brother, have you? The little fool is supposed to be working on his studies," she asks, her eyes flashing for a moment as she waits for your answer.
A hissing sputter that might have been more amusing if the situation wasn't so annoying comes from the pile the thief is hiding under before you hear what sounds like a young boy trying to make his voice as deep as his father's demanding, "What fools would dare steal from a dragon's hoard?!"
From behind the pile comes a small red dragon, trying its best to look impressive and intimidating.
"You did you f@#kin moron, or what do you think the Other f^%king dragons are going to say?"
"No, ma'am." Teegor responds with practiced polite deference.
Nestis smiles broadly, trying to keep any mockery out of his voice.
"Oh dragon, are there any tarts remaining in your hoard?"
"They're mine by right of conquest! I may let you have some if you show proper respect like your friends here," he say to Mark before turning to Nestis and Corso.
"I am Anthanarax, the Mighty! Slayer of twenty goblins and ruler of the playpen," he says proudly as he puffs out his chest, which is still covered in crumbs and some red jelly. "I have many tarts," he lies, "and my favorite are the cinnamon apple ones!"
"That figures. the little bugger is too clever for his own good," she mutters before looking around. "Weren't there more of you," she asks.
"Bugbear cooks? No, just Teegor." Teegor replies cocking his head at the human redhead.
"Ah, no. I meant weren't you with some others," she asks before she really understands what you said and looks at you with no small amount of surprise.
"You cook?"
"Yes." Teegor replies politely
Mark lashes out and tries to grab it by the throat.
"Listen you little s#$t, I've had enough of your games. Give me the tarts or I break your scrawny neck."
"But of course-", Nestis begins as Mark seizes the young dragon.
Nestis takes the opportunity to sneak along the wall, seeking tarts to retrieve.
"Ah, um, may I," she asks indicating the tarts, the words coming out like they are strange and alien to her.
"Could you help me with find my brother. I'll be in trouble if I can't keep him with the tutors."
Nestis finds, unsurprisingly perhaps, only crumbs, the remnants of jellies of various kinds, and a sad, lonely, crumbly tart that most certianly isn't presentable. Thankfully, the wyrmling is too preoccupied to object to Nestis' snooping as other interesting things catch his eyes.
"ACK!" A small ring of smoke comes out of the wyrmling's mouth as Mark puts him in a chokehold. Corso, wisely perhaps, steps back, expecting a gout of flame, not the blubbering of a child.
"You-you s-sof'skin j-jerks! I'll tell my dad! H-he'll roast you good!"
"So if you snatch something, you can claim it by right of conquest, eh?" he stares intently at the dragon hatchling, his meaning rather clear, before continuing: "I mean, if those are the rules...." he gives the small creature a tight squeeze and then adds "our other option is that you can go and admit your theft to your father and the others and take what punishment you have earned. I'm sure they'll be merciful."
It's clear Mark is offering him a choice.
Teegor nonverbally communicates, ::of course, you can eat one. I made them for you.::
The bugbear grabs his spear and communicates to the other chefs, ::if you lose my tarts, I'll kill you slowly.::
Nestis sticks to the shadows for now, curious to see which way the little dragon jumps.
It's odd, hearing a dragon blubber, even if he's only a child.
It's about then that you hear a young woman calling out from the door.
"Andy!? What is going on?"
The other help in the kitchen doesn't need telling twice and four of them stand guard around the tarts as the young lady tries one.
[smaller]"Oh wow, these are good,"[smaller] she mutters before shaking her head and remembering what she is hear for.
"Right! Younger brother! Let's go!"
You follow the trail of shaken and rattled individuals until you come on an out of the way corridor that you both can hear the sounds of blubbering and crying coming from.
"Andy!? What is going on," the young woman calls out as she goes to open the door.
The door opens revealing Mark holding a red dragon wyrmling while Corso looks sternly at the blubbering drakeling. Nestis is nowhere to be seen. Out in the corridor stand Teegor and a stunningly beautiful young woman with fiery-red hair, golden eyes, and lightly bronzed skin. Her expression goes from concerned, to surprised, to thunderous as she looks at the two men in the small closet. Her pupils narrow into slits and smoke begins to curl from the corners of her snarling mouth.
"What. Are. You. Doing. To. My. Brother." she demands as her teeth begin to sharpen into fangs.
"Giving him a choice to either answer for what he's done or become my property by right of conquest."
Nestis steps from the shadows, smiling at the fiery figure before him.
An angry dragon. Most dangerous.
"My lady, it is as my colleagues say. Tarts for the impending feast for the Dragon Kings were seized by your brother, hence our search."
Teegor tried to shrink into the shadow of the sister.
The woman calms, but Nestis' honeyed tongue only dampens the flames of her ire. She looks at the wyrmling, who has stopped blubbering and now shrinks back from her gaze.
"You all are only spared by the fact that my brother truly seems unhurt. Release him. Now," she demands. "I shall handle his punishment from here."
Mark drops the wyrmling like someone tossing a piece of trash on the ground.
Good. A name might be useful to drop in later conversation. [bigger]Muhahahaha![/biggger] Wait, where did that come from?
"As you will, my lady. May I enquire as to your name?"
"I figured as much," the lady sighs as Anthanarax shifts into the form of a five-year-old boy covered in the remains of many pastries and shuffles over to his sister's side. "I am Zaralania, youngest daughter of King Iverendox. Now, shall we get you back to the kitchens so we aren't discussing what happened in a storage closet?"
"Why not."
"Excellent. To the kitchens we go."
The next hour is an interesting one as brother ans sister have a shouting match, punctuated by you explaining yourselves, that ends with the young dragon being hauled by his tail back to his studies. Shortly after that, you are all escorted into a magnificent room with an equally magnificent banquet table made of stone polished to mirror smoothness. Around it are seated ten very richly dressed human-looking individuals, all of whom have an air of overwhelming power and charisma about them despite the friendly smiles on their faces.
"Ah, here they are, the people that made this possible," a man with a strong familial resemblance to the young woman you met just a while ago says. "Please be seated. My guests, my wife, and I all want to hear about the adventures you have had."
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"I made the jelly tarts for you." The large bugbear offers as if it was his greatest accomplishment.