[Cherry Heart] A Murder of Crows

[Makο]

 

On the quest board within the main Cherry Heart Guild Hall hung a fairly ornate looking piece of paper. Quite clearly, it was a quest. Because it was on the quest board. In the Guild Hall.

 

Upon closer inspection, any hapless sentient being with a basic understanding of the local language could understand what it read:

 

[Q U E S T] A Murder of Crows;

 

[C L I E N T] Anonymous;

 

[T A S K] Investigation;

 

[D E T A I L S] "The stupid quest receptionist wouldn't accept my submission until I gave it some artsy-fartsy title. It took me ten minutes to come up with a title that was even vaguely relevant. I feel like this is discrimination. Regardless, I am in need of a few intrepid adventurers who are willing to go the extra mile to solve a mystery of mine, for the sake of the community. Reward is Negotiable, nothing below Guild Minimum Wage."

 

[L O C A T I O N] Rumination, 53 SE Street;

 

The paper seemed to smell faintly of precious metals.

 

 

On South-East Street, a humble corner-shop swapped its closed sign to open, followed by the sound of several seemingly heavy locks unbolting. A young man with light pink hair and a dark complexion peeked his head out the door to the shop, taking a look both ways into the street before bringing his head back in. Rumination was officially open for business.

 

"I ought to get a biter on that quest posting eventually."

[Yui]

---

This was the place right? The store name was awfully long for just one word; Eyla had to use the address as reference just to find out faster. Rum-in-a-tion...what does that even mean? Whatever. The address was right, so this was the place. Apparently, knocking on a door was something people were supposed to do before entering a building, but for some reason that rule didn't apply to stores? Fine by Eyla; wasting time on pointless crap like knocking on a door meant it'd be longer before getting to the important stuff. With that in mind, Eyla set her hand on the door and opened it up, stepping inside.

 

The inside was nice enough. Whoever was in charge seemed to be doing fairly well for himself. Speaking of the shop's owner...he had a very distinct appearance. He was still young, and had dark skin...and light pink hair. Friend of Aubrey's perhaps? Another alchemist? What was with these people and weird hair colors? There was still a lot Eyla had to learn about people this far south, it seemed. In either case, he was the one paying, so who was Eyla to judge his appearance? Stepping up to the counter, Eyla set the flyer for the quest down before the shopkeep and spoke only six words that perfectly described her intent here.

 

"Tell me more about these murders."

[Hakima]

---

Aubrey followed closely behind Eyla, her hood pulled to obscure her face from lingering eyes. She was not nearly as comfortable with the extra stragglers their group had gathered, the teenage blacksmith and the brash little girl, but it had been too late to back out of the quest by the time the paranoia had finally set in.

 

Neither of them seem to know very much about this kind of thing, she thought to herself. Aubrey paused when she saw the shop that the Quest had mentioned, and bit her lip to suppress a sigh. She had harbored a hope that she’d been wrong about this place, but as expected, she hadn’t been; she never was. This was going to be awkward and painful for every party involved.

 

Eyla stopped to read the sign, and Aubrey’s first instinct was to read it out for her, but that would do her no good. It would have been easy to coddle the warrior woman and read and write everything in her stead, but Aubrey knew it would teach her nothing. “It means to think hard on something, Eyla,” she quietly added, once Eyla seemed to have felt out the word in her head. “For example, we didn’t ruminate on this quest for very long…”

 

She followed Eyla into the shop after that, hanging back behind the much taller girl. The man inside the shop fit the image of a merchant perfectly, small of stature and with wandering eyes incapable of minding their own business, a fact which Aubrey found most annoying. On top of that, he had ridiculous looking pink hair, not unlike hers. But she had done it to further mask her identity after she left home, using a simple color brew; what was his excuse?

---

[Alaina]

As Mena walked to the where the quest was, she couldn't help but feel like she was entirely in the wrong place. For starters, she had picked a quest that had to do with investigating a murder, and she didn't think herself to be quite the investigator. But, that wasn't exactly what made her feel uncomfortable. While her party wasn't filled with people that were particularly imposing, like the minotaur fellow, it was still one she couldn't help but find strange. There was the one girl who everyone just seemed to completely tower over, and seemed to be some kind of little kid. She wasn't quite sure what a child like her was doing on a quest like this, but big surprises small packages, right? 

 

Then there were the other two. They seemed to be, at the very least, acquainted with each other, and they both didn't seem all that strange. There was the pink haired girl whose only really defining characteristic she could pick out was that she was...pink haired. Then there was the teal haired girl. There was something about her that Mena couldn't quite place. Her figure wasn't exactly imposing, in fact it was somewhat wirey. But there was just something about her that seemed...imposing. As such, Mena kept didn't feel like standing particularly close to the girl as they made their way towards the shop. 

 

As they got into the store, Mena looked around at the rather unremarkable place, to just have her attention drawn to the thing that stood out the most. The stark contrast of light pink hair and dark tanned skin made the shopkeeper's presence in the shop all the more known. While Mena was about to say something, she recoiled back in slight surprise as the teal haired girl took the lead and slammed the flyer on the table. Thinking that it was a bit blunt of her, Mena quickly tried to stammer something out. "Sh-she means that we're here, from uh, Cherry.  For that request you put out, about the uh, Murders."

[宇佐見 蓮子@C94]

Lisei, naturally, found herself leading the group of travelers from Cherry Heart who accepted the Murder of Crows quest. Not that she's the official leader of the party or anything, she just found herself in front of everyone else, probably due to the fact her steps are much livelier compared to that of her guildmates. Or maybe they just didn't want to be too close to the obnoxiously loud pre-pubescent girl. Nevertheless, they eventually reached the destination. The all-female party comprised of a redhead, a brunette and the pair of teal-haired and pink-haired girls she encountered back at the party. The pair that spurred Lisei to join this particular quest in the first place.

 

Their destination was a small, run-down corner shop in south-east street. At first glance, it seems to be your usual, normal, typical shop; The type of thing Lisei's encountered multiple times throughout her travels. Still, the owner is of... Rather unique disposition. Tan skin, light pink hair. Her mind instantly made her think "Probably a relative of this 'Aubrey' girl I'm with. Pinkheads don't show up often, so when they do, they must all be related, right?" Obviously, Lisei. Obviously.

 

Since the journey was largely boring and uneventful, Lisei was somewhat bored and half-asleep by the time they got to their destination. Still, Eyla's sudden banging on the table sure woke her up. And much to her dismay, it seems that the first thing on the line is gathering information. Totally not what she expected at all. She signed up to beat up murderer baddies, not ask who or where the murderer baddies are! Not wanting any part in the boring conversation, Lisei separated from the group and took a seat close to them, but far enough away that she won't be a part of the conversation.

 

"Boooo-ring!" She shouted. "Hey, shopkeeper-merchant-person! Why don't ya just show us where the crooks are so we can put a stop to em, yeah?"

[Makο]

no fυcking fun allowed

 

Calling the shop "old" and "run-down" simultaneously did it a disservice and gave it too much credit. While it certainly didn't give off the exact aura of an owner and operator who's well-to-do, it was clearly very well used–and well lived. Economic papers and now-irrelevant documents lay strewn across the floor, with many having boot prints on them as though someone didn't even notice they were there. A few coffers lay here and there, with the one on the table not entirely locked, letting the intrepid individual look inside. Said observer would immediately notice the chest was almost packed with gold doubloons, as well as other scattered lesser currencies, and appeared the be the one chest that remained open for transactions on a daily basis. Those with a sharp sense of smell would notice the strong scent of coinage that emitted from the room, particularly from the other locked chests.

 

Quite clearly, the owner was doing well for himself.

 

 

 

 

Speaking of the owner, the brazen-looking young man sat with his eyes glued to a paper he was holding, scribbling notes into a nearby pad. Despite the loud, rambunctious, and rather disrespectful entrance of his would-be saviors, his professionalism as a merchant took hold, taking his time to finish the task at hand.

 

And took his time he did, making sure to take just a little extra while longer in order to precisely irritate who he determined to be the most disrespectful of the bunch, the chick with a head chock-full of crimson-red hair. He took this moment to ponder whether or not she had signed up for the quest at hand on accident, or mistook it for another sort of "adventure" he had heard this type are always so willing to embark on. Clearly she's not the thoughtful type, so really, anything is possible.

 

Peering around the rest of the room, he couldn't help but find himself slightly disappointed at the selection. Perhaps only one, a young lady who shared his hair pigment, looked to be any sort of thinker, if only by the very judgmental look she had given him immediately upon entering the building. The one with the light orange hair seemed rather meek, despite her appearance, but at least she wasn't brazen in her attempts to communicate. The final of the woman, someone who seemed about as bright as an underwater candle, was at least punctual and wished to get to the point; something to appreciate nowadays, he figured.

 

His momentary analysis complete, he put on his second-best merchant's smile as he stood up, arms open wide.

 

"Ah, yes! I welcome you all to Rumination, my humble shop. As you have so clearly stated, you must be from the Cherry Heart organization, of which I posted a quest to. I am thrilled to have you all on board."

 

Just as soon as he had stood up, he sat himself back down again, beginning to shuffle through some papers on his desk. That blasted document had to be missing now of all times. He shook the feeling off, figuring he'd find it later, and rested his arms on the desk in front of him, in his most warm and welcoming manner.

 

"I only regret that I do not have any food or drink to offer you; I don't keep much around, as you can see, since I lack the storage ability for such things. Regardless, I can see many of you would rather I get to the point anyway."

 

For a moment, he peered out the window, in the vague direction of where the guild is located. "Ever since that guild reopened its doors, the entire city has been in an uproar of activity. Some good, such as increased business for local shops, and some bad, such as undesirables from all around thinking to make a quick buck off of the hype."

 

He rested his head on his arms, fist-in-hand, suddenly looking very serious.

 

"There has been a murder here... a murder of the economy."

[Alaina]

After Mena clarified what her party member was saying to the shopkeeper, the shortest of them walked up to him and started being even more blunt and disrespectful. Mena was a bit taken aback by the action and couldn't help but think that this wasn't someone who was just short. She was actually just a kid. Why would someone as young and immature as her even be here to begin with? Not really dwelling on that much longer, she tensed back up as the pink haired shopkeeper started talking again. She stood there listening to what he had to say, with her expression turning into one of momentary thought as she tried to figure out what he was talking about the businesses around the area. Though, given the endless sea of people that were milling about yesterday, she could definitely see some people trying to make a good profit out of it. However, as the man mentioned that there had been a murder, she immediately tensed up more, with a more serious and expecting expression coming over her face..only for all of that tension to immediately disappear. 

 

"Huh?" She had absolutely no idea what that could have possibly meant, and was just kind of dumbfounded. At a loss for words to respond to with, she turned her head to the closest person near her, which happened to be the pink haired girl, to see if they had any idea what was going on either. Looking back to the pink haired shopkeeper, still confused at what he had said, she asked, "I'm sorry. A murder to the 'economy'?" 

[Yui]

---

"There has been a murder here... a murder of the economy."

 

...

 

"I'm sorry. A murder to the 'economy'?"

 

...

 

"There's not a killer on the loose?" There was so much wrong with this. The shopkeep had a very loose definition of "murder" didn't he? Eyla had picked up this quest because she had seen the word murder and was familiar with what it meant. It meant that one person had killed another person and broke the law, and they were generally dangerous people. People that had to be put down. People Eyla had wanted to fight, dammit! If there was combat to be had, she wanted to have it!

 

...but no. It was just somebody worried about their gold coins.

 

"These coins are going to kill me someday," Eyla muttered, stepping away from the counter and grabbing a seat near where Aubrey was standing. She'd come armed and ready to hunt down some dishonorable killer, and got this. So far her first quest was proving to be a bust. Whatever. It paid. After this was over she could go reward herself by heading out of town for a bit to go hunt something big and pretend it was this almost-liar. That said, there was still work to be done. Looking up at the shopkeep from her spot, Eyla shot forth another to-the-point question.

 

"And what did you want us to do about this...'murder'?"

[Makο]

It didn't take a genius to detect the feelings of disappointment, confusion or both on the faces on his would-be saviors. This gave Tracy pause in what he was about to do, considering he needed actual thinking folk in order to assist him properly; a cadre of meatheads would be more than unhelpful. Of course, he didn't betray said feelings on his face, continuing with his normal smiling merchant's face.

 

"If I happened to deceive you with my posting, I'm quite sorry. I was just forced to create a for the quest that wouldn't completely betray the objectives to anyone." He took a moment to peer behind the group, making sure the door was shut. His face grew a bit more serious as he settled down into his seat, interlocking his fingers just beneath his nose. "Allow me to explain."

 

"Currently, within the markets of this fine city, are the slight but ever growing rumors of currency forgery. Specifically, Doubloons. Now, I'd like to make the assumption that you folk don't need me to explain why this is a bad thing, but as a reminder, I will. in order for our currency here to remain relevant compared to other nearby nations, it needs to be trustworthy and stable. People need to not fear that if they get some of our Doubloons, they aren't getting a gold coin injected with lead."

 

He reached into a drawer in his desk, and pulled out a single gold Doubloon. From the nearby chest, he pulled out another. He placed them both on the desktop; they appeared to be identical.

 

"Here, we have the exact issue as to why this is such a problem. They look completely identical, don't they? They feel the same, and they both share the same scent." He took them both and placed them on a scale, one on each side. It stayed completely level.

 

"There isn't even any weight discrepancy! However, I can say without a doubt that the coin on the left here that I retrieved from my drawer is very much a fake Doubloon. Watch."

 

He pulled forward another trinket on the desk, which appeared to be a hand-cranked press with a knife on the end. Placing the coin on the receiving end of the blade, he cranked the device for a few moments until the coin was swiftly sliced in half. Pulling both halves out, he looked on the inside of the halves, and satisfied with what he saw, he showed them both to his visitors. On the inside of the gold was a rather thick layer of lead, clearly making up most of the coin.

 

"This coin was retrieved from a poor business associate of mine whose business was caught up in this debacle, as the legislative authority in this city has been trying to sniff out the forgers in recent days. Of course, the incident was kept under wraps by all involved, lest undo panic be spread throughout the local and surrounding economies; during this booming time, the last thing we need is the trust of our currency to drop."

 

Placing both halves down, he resumed the pose he had beforehand. "That is the general gist of things. Before too many of these coins are distributed outwards and found out, we need to snuff out this operation while we still can. The economic viability of this entire city-state depends on whether or not we can figure this out. Of course, I expect you all to keep this situation under wraps, as if any hint of our investigation hits the public ears, it highly likely the perpetrator will flee the city and continue his operations in a safer spot; this is why I had to be... less specific in the quest description."

 

Clearing his throat, his face relaxed a bit, turning back into his pleasant merchant's smile. "Any questions?"

[Hakima]

---

Aubrey stood in quiet contemplation while the situation was explained. Another fool brimming with avarice, unable to find contentment with his already plush lifestyle. She bad been guilty of that same greed once, but her travel had thoroughly snuffed out the majority of her spoiled upbringing. She had learned what it was like to sleep on stone or live off of game caught by her much more able-bodied partner, and these days, she felt pampered if they had a bed to rest in at the end of the day.

 

She looked over to where Eyla had taken a seat, studying the weathered gladiator. Aubrey had heard a saying when she had just set out from home, from an old farmer who had offered her a place to stay to a ride out a storm. She’d offered to pay him for his help, but the man would hear nothing of it, even though he seemed to be struggling for a way to pay off debts to his landowner.

 

“Suffering begets suffering,” he had told her when, confused, she had asked why he could smile and be so kind to a stranger while he was so obviously struggling. His response had left her more perplexed, but after meeting Eyla and helping her escape and move on from her past, she had finally come to understand it. Don’t dwell on the bad, focus on the good, the alchemist had realized.

 

Aubrey wondered if that very same mindset was what made most financially poor people so much more rich in the game of life than those who had more gold than they knew what to do with. Farmers and soldiers, and all the other small jobs that many neglected, were usually far more content than their upper class counterparts. Could it be they had never had felt the intoxicating sensation of being able to buy anything the world had to offer, or was it because they understood the need for hard work and what was truly important in life?

 

She shook her head. She was probably overthinking it. She had a mission to focus on anyways; if the miffed look on Eyla’s face was anything to judge by, they had all been expecting to be able to solve the quest with their respective weapons. She felt a twinge of sympathy for the gladiator. This wasn’t going to be a fun time for her.

 

Aubrey offhandedly checked the contents of her satchel: two healing brews, a regeneration brew for Eyla, corrosive brew in case of a wall or some other obstacle they needed to pass, obscuring brew for if they were ever caught in a bad spot and needed an escape, and of course, a single Midas brew, which she always carried with her. She had not taken Alchemist’s Fire this time, despite the combat prowess it offered, because they were going to be in a city and it had a reputation for burning down entire sections before someone could quell it.

 

She nodded to herself. This would do.

 

"Any questions?"

 

Aubrey looked around the room, and it became clear none of them knew how a job like this worked at all. She was going to have to be the one to guide them, she decided, crossing her arms over her chest. She had neglected to pull her hood down since arriving, so her face was still obscured when she asked, “You presumably have a plan to solve this little problem of yours, then?”

[Alaina]

Mena continued to stand there in her confusion, and she looked around to be glad she wasn't the only one who was completely baffled by this man's response. Her confusion then turned into a bit of slight irritation as the man went on to explain that he had pretty much just fabricated what the quest was supposed to be in contrast to the request. This irritation was only out principle against lying though, as Mena immediately realized that she didn't even care about the murder when choosing this in the first place. Just sort of chose one at random. Nevertheless, she was here now and so patiently waited as the shopkeeper began explaining just what the true purpose of his request was. 

 

The problem, while not murder, definitely did seem serious. As someone who had spent a good deal of time in making product for profit, she could understand the severity behind a sudden devaluing of currency. After all, she wouldn't like it if some customer paid with fake money. Though despite that, she was surprised at the demonstration the man offered. She had seen gold coins before, obviously, and was pretty much just as fooled as anyone else would have been. So with the issue clear, it was obvious what  he was asking them to do. Though, she briefly wondered why he prefaced this quest with "murder" when it was clearly about economics. That was only going to draw in the crowd. With a quick glance to each member of the group, this was only proven right. 

 

As he asked if they had questions, the pink haired girl spoke up to him. Immediately following up on that she said, "yeah. I don't know if you realize this, but we're not exactly the most economically savvy group, especially in comparison to you. How are we supposed to tell where these fakes are coming from when we probably can't even tell the difference between them and the real one?" For a brief moment, she considered that they could just try cutting the coins in half to see each time, but that didn't sound very economically friendly either. 

[Makο]

 

Tracy reclined in a bit in his chair upon hearing the questions he was asked. While he most did certainly have a plan, as well as a direction to point everyone in, he didn't particularly have a solution for the whole "coin" problem. Plebs like them couldn't tell them apart, after all. On a second thought, however, it really shouldn't matter. In the end, their job wasn't to track down every forged coin anyway; it was to stop it at the source.

 

"I think we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves. As I recall, we haven't even introduced ourselves to each other! Quite rude of me." He stood up from his chair, and with an arm in front, took a bow. "I am Tracy Morgan, son of Jeremiah and Cathy Morgan. Entrepreneur, businessman, and some might say coin collector. I run this small establishment, placing money where I might be able to make the most back, so it's obvious I have a lot of stake in this whole situation. And who might you fou- three be?"

 

There had been four, but apparently, the loudest and rudest of the bunch had seemingly wandered off at some point during the conversation.

 

 

Considering it circumstances, it was probably for the best.

[Alaina]

As the man reclined back in his chair, seemingly becoming more relaxed as the questions came to him, Mena realized something when he asked his question. She had zero idea who the people she was with were. While it was only natural, given that she had just met these people today, she still found it odd that she didn't know the names of the people she was working with. So, as to rectify this they had all started to introduce themselves one at a time. After the shopkeeper said his bit, Mena waited an awkward second before muttering, "I guess I'll go next." Clearing her throat she said, "My name's Mena Smith. I uh, well, I worked as a blacksmith before becoming a part of the guild so I'm pretty good at making all sorts of weapons. I'm also pretty good at keeping them in prime condition, so if you need any help with them, just ask." As she basically gave her business pitch, she realized there was only one person in the room who actually seemed like they would benefit from that last statement....and she didn't look like the most sociable of people. 

[Yui]

---

 

The shopkeep was met with a number of other questions from the rest of the group. However, he seemed to take them quite well. In fact, he seemed even more relaxed when met with these questions. Some people...

 

"I think we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves. As I recall, we haven't even introduced ourselves to each other! Quite rude of me. I am Tracy Morgan, son of Jeremiah and Cathy Morgan. Entrepreneur, businessman, and some might say coin collector. I run this small establishment, placing money where I might be able to make the most back, so it's obvious I have a lot of stake in this whole situation. And who might you fou- three be?"

 

Three? There were four people who took this quest, right? Eyla took a look around...to find the child was missing. The group was probably better off that way; the child was too confident for someone still growing, and she'd probably be even less useful in a quest like this one than Eyla would. At least Eyla had the intimidation factor if need be. One girl with four weapons who very obviously knew how to use them? Rightfully intimidating.

 

"I guess I'll go next. My name's Mena Smith. I uh, well, I worked as a blacksmith before becoming a part of the guild so I'm pretty good at making all sorts of weapons. I'm also pretty good at keeping them in prime condition, so if you need any help with them, just ask."

 

Blacksmith? That was good to know. That was the kind of person Eyla would want to associate with; scratch her back and she could scratch Eyla's in turn by keeping her weapons in good shape without charging her with more coins. What a happy turn of events. Eyla turned her gaze over to Aubrey, waiting to see if the alchemist wanted to introduce herself next or if Eyla should take her turn before the alchemist's. She looked like she was thinking hard about something... So she's ruminating over it.

 

Well, no point in forcing Aubrey to interrupt her ruminations. Guess it's my turn.

 

"Eyla, Havardottir." Perhaps the bluntness of her introduction was something that could show the differences between her and Aubrey, or that - possibly unlike her companion - Eyla had no thought of giving a fake name despite the circumstances surrounding the pair. "Retired gladiator." Well, perhaps "retired" wasn't the best word. It was the closest one she could think of that she knew of to the actual situation, though. Eyla cast her eyes back toward Aubrey, waiting for the last person in the shop to make her introduction.

[Makο]

 

Mena Smith, Eyla... something, and...

 

Someone else. She had pink hair akin to his own, and appeared to be in deep thought at the moment. That is to say, she didn't even bother to speak up as to what her name was. Charming, for sure. However, in comparison to the other two meatheads, a thinking mind might be exactly what they need to succeed at the task at hand. Can't bash your way to success all the time. Despite having a rather unbalanced ratio of brains or brawn, Tracy found that it did somehow work in his favor in the end, in at least two of the three situations on hand. Them situations being...

 

"Clues. Now that we've got the pleasantries out of the way, we must focus on the task at hand: gathering clues." He reached down into his desk and pulled out three pieces of parchment, and set them out on the desk. "My informants have, in fact, gathered some leads after listening to some choice words from those nearby."

 

On the first piece of paper read the name "Andre the Blacksmith."

 

"Andre over here has apparently been asked to test the legitimacy of coins by many a larger-scale business, and should likely have some information on all that is going on." He peered over to Mena. "Clearly, this is where you're headed, Mena," he said, looking over to her, "I assume you'll be able to pry the most information from him by virtue of being of the same career."

 

The second piece of paper read "Yuria the Watcher."

 

"Yuria is a town guardswoman, who spends a lot of her time in the... less influential parts of town. Apparently, she's quite knowledgeable on all the goings on in that part, but requires a bit of... encouragement to open up." He turned to face the ever bored looking Eyla. "I'm sure you'll get a kick out of it."

 

The last piece of paper read "Melodie the Librarian."

 

"Apparently, word is that Melodie had come in direct contact with the perpetrators, whilst they had been researching the history of this country's coins. She's quite intellectually minded, and has a tendency to ramble on and on about... things, I suppose, so it'll take a sharper mind to parse the useful bits from what she's saying." He gave the pink-haired one a sly glance. "I'm sure you'll be quite at home."

 

"Right. Each of you take your respective paper, and follow the directions to the location on the map. Good luck out there, and try to get something useful." Just as he was about to sit down, it seemed like he remembered something, staggering. "Oh, and please, be gentle and delicate with these people. I'm sure a couple already fear for their life, having information that might make them targets, and they might be all to willing to clam up at the slightest offense. And, I beg of you, do not link anything back to me. Like I mentioned earlier, this is an undercover operation; we can't let those responsible catch wind of this investigation. Move with caution."

 

Having said his piece, he sat back down, pulling out another piece of paper. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to deal with the certain activities of a meddling witch..."

[Alaina]

After their brief introductions, which was not at all an understatement with this crowd, were over, their employer then went on to explain just what they would be doing now. The first part of any investigation, of course, was trying to find clues towards it. While Mena was very unsure of her information gathering skills, it was good to know that the employer of theirs at least had leads to go off to at least begin with. Her task was going to talk to someone who went by Andre of Astora, a man who was apparently some kind of blacksmith. While Mena still wasn't sure how to approach this situation in a very inconspicuous way, she took the paper and waited for everyone else to receive their assignments. Once it was all said and done she said, "then I guess we'll meet back here when we're done?" Once that was over and done with, she went on her voyage to find this Andre. Even with the map she was provided with, her unfamiliarity with the area had caused her to still have a bit of a difficult time finding the smith's place. However, once she finally found the building, she simply walked in and decided to take a gander at what the place was like first. 

[Yui]

---

"Clues. Now that we've got the pleasantries out of the way, we must focus on the task at hand: gathering clues. My informants have, in fact, gathered some leads after listening to some choice words from those nearby."

 

Of course getting clues was a good idea. Eyla wasn't the sharpest blade in the armory, but even she got that much. This man was only waiting until now to hand them out? The fake coins must not have been that urgent after all then. Eyla looked over her piece of paper as it was handed to her. Yuria the Watcher...

 

"Yuria is a town guardswoman, who spends a lot of her time in the... less influential parts of town. Apparently, she's quite knowledgeable on all the goings on in that part, but requires a bit of... encouragement to open up. I'm sure you'll get a kick out of it."

 

Encouragement? That was a word she was familiar with. While she'd been told her definition of it wasn't exactly right, Eyla had correlated the usages of the word and the events that followed and come to the conclusion that "encouraging" somebody meant using force to get them to spill their guts when wile and wits wouldn't cut it. This Yuria woman didn't sound like a bad sort, and certainly didn't sound like a killer Eyla had hoped to face off with, but it would have to do. A fight was fine with her.

 

"Then I guess we'll meet back here when we're done?" the blacksmith among the trio asked.

 

"Looks that way," the warrior answered. After this quest was done, she wanted to have the little blacksmith take a look at her weapons. It had been a while since she'd gotten them to somebody who could fix them properly, and the idea of getting new weapons altogether didn't sit well with her. With her answer dispensed, Eyla made her way off.

[Makο]

 

As Mena would walk into the smith, she would first take note of how cozy the room was. Although, "cozy" is in the eyes of the beholder, and anyone other than a blacksmith would be hard pressed to find the small, cramped, blazing hot room as such. However, many a blacksmith would feel right at home there, with all the normal trappings of such a place. A burning furnace provided light for the majority of the room, with a small candle lit on a table for when the furnace dies down. Well, if it does. Buckets and barrels of water for tempering, an anvil for shaping, and a myriad of different tools and works hung about. It was clear that he was a contractor blacksmith, as he had no store front of his own; many prefer it this way, as they can spend more time over the forge and less dealing with the complaints of customers. At least, directly. As an unfortunate side affect, many contract smiths tend to be... less than sociable.

 

Speaking of smiths, the man himself, Andre, stood next to the fire, waiting for a piece of metal to heat up to the appropriate temperature for shaping. A fine young man, and the ideal picture of a blacksmith. With a set of powerful muscles, a bald head to prevent fires, and a hammer that he probably carried around for fun more than just shaping, he was well seasoned and obviously well-off, being a highly sought after smith. Despite the previous allegations of unsociability, Andre seemed to have quite the pleasant demeanor about him, as he hummed a simple tune near the fire. A few moments after Mena had walked in, he had stopped humming and turned to face her. He was shocked for a mere moment, before releasing a hearty laugh, walking over to here.

 

"Now, now! If it ain't one o' ta Smith's Lads. How's the form? Are y' well?" He laughed, slapping her rather hard on the back. "Ye ain't still makin' those magics craps, are ya?"

 

Eyla would have had to walk around the town a considerable amount following her departure, as her target in question was not at the indicated location. However, with the tip that Yuria spent most of her time among the downtrodden and crime-ridden, it had considerably shortened the time it took to find her. Leaning up against a wall within ear shot of what must be a dozen nearby brothels, she had rather fair skin and black hair tied up in a ponytail, but clearly gave off the impression of someone you don't want to mess with for no reason. Solemn in face and demeanor, she kept careful watch of her surroundings, giving a metaphorical stink-eye to everyone who walked past. Although, she found her concentration broken for a moment when some slum children came running up to her. She addressed them for a moment, kneeling down to talk to them at eye level, with almost a smile on her face, before they ran off and she returned to her previous expression.

 

Upon sighting Eyla, her eyes narrowed almost to slits; after all, she was someone who has never traversed into the slums before. Someone armed to the teeth and with a rather unpleasant demeanor on her face. Someone who was staring directly at her and moving towards her. Without thinking, she placed her hand on the hilt of her flat-blade and tensed up.

[Alaina]

Admiring the room she had walked into, Mena couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic. It wasn't as if the room itself was one she was overly familiar with, but location didn't matter. The smell of burning coals and the heat of a roaring flame was one that she could never forget. While an obvious thought, Mena couldn't help but think to herself how this was indeed a blacksmith's workshop. As she just sort of looked around the room, her eyes soon met with the bald head of the man she had been looking for, Andre, and his attention seemed to turn to her as well.

 

At first glance, it could be said that the man definitely had an imposing presence about him. Thinking that she'd have to somehow get information out of a man quite as large as he did make Mena feel just a tad bit uncomfortable. However, the moment that he spoke up, it was obvious to pretty much anyone around that he was a friendly sort of guy. Upon being asked how she was doing and whether or not her family was still making their weapons, with a smile on her face, Mena proudly proclaimed, "we most certainly are. My parents wouldn't ever forsake our craft of magic." After that, the smile on her face became a bit more forced and her tone of voice became somewhat embarrassed as she averted her eyes from the man for a moment. "Th-though I guess I'm not since...I, uh, can't the magic ones."

 

Letting out a bit of a chuckle at her own expense she then looked back to him and answered the first question. "Aside from that, life's been going alright for me right now. How 'bout yourself? You seem to have a nice little set up here in town," she said, as she took a look around the room again, admiring the workshop.

[Yui]

---

This part of town didn't look nearly as nice as the rest. If Eyla's experience with towns and cities meant anything, there was lots of crime and not many coins around here. However, it was where she would probably find Yuria after she wasn't where the paper had said, so this was where Eyla had gone. Several people shot her curious looks or glares; stranger in town armed to the teeth, coming to this run-down area? Hard to blame them for being wary, really. However, it wasn't the shopkeeps or children, or even the thugs or theives Eyla had her eyes on. Her sights were set on someone else.

 

Yuria the Watcher, who a few slum children had spoken to briefly before running off and going back to their business. And it seemed she'd seen Eyla too...her hand was on the hilt of her sword. Well then. Eyla didn't mind a bit of violence if it meant getting the information she needed from this woman; some exercise would be nice, actually. Once she was within speaking range of the guard, Eyla voiced her intentions pretty straightforwardly.

 

"I'm here to ask about fake coins, and heard you might know something."

 

Eyla kept her eyes on the woman's sword hand, in case the guard was even more violent than Eyla had suspected.

[Makο]

 

Reaching into the fire with his prongs, Andre pulled out a molten hot rod of what appeared to be iron. Setting it on the anvil with one hand, and grabbing a far more reasonable hammer with the other, going to work on it. Sparks and embers flew off the anvil as he gave the iron a sound thrashing.

 

"Hah! Expected not less from a member o' yer proud family, aye? Still, if ya figure out them magic craps any time soon, I bet ye'd 'ave a knack for some o' ta more delicate. I'd wager a pint ye'd make a damn fine Rapier."

 

He took the iron–which had gained a far more sword-like shape–and placed it back into the fire, not satisfied with what he had already done. Able to turn his attention back to her, he decided to instead not do that, opting to take a swig of a mug he kept floating in a bucket of ice water; clearly, it was used for tempering material, but squeezing multiple uses out of things is always good. After a few moments of drinking, he gasped for air, belching loudly and tossing the now empty mug behind him.

 

"Me, aye? I'd say life's treatin' me fine. There's always anothe' customer 'round the bend, so work ain't scarce. Keepin' me fit, keepin' my sharp, know what they say. Now!"

 

He leaned slightly in closer to her.

 

"What cannae do fer ya?"

 

Yuria, for a fraction of a second, seemed almost dumbstruck at the sheer raw lack of tact and knowing this bumbling oaf seemed to have. She didn't appear to be some naive noblewoman who grew up sheltered; no, she certainly had an air of combat about her. There were no signs of her being mentally deficient, though she couldn't be entirely certain. All facts considered just gave Yuria even more pause, now firmly grasping her blade hilt and sliding into a combat stance. Whatever this foolish broad wanted would certainly not be of any good to her.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about. If you are insinuating that my position here in the slums, oft characterized as 'crime-ridden,' means I should know of such a crime, you are sadly mistaken."

 

Yuria did actually have a little knowledge on the matter at hand. After all, if such a syndicate wasn't operating nearby, those orphans certainly wouldn't be parading around on the streets. However, this gave her all the more reason to keep this mystery idiot out of it; should any of it connect back to Yuria, she internally shuddered at the thought of what might happen.

[Alaina]

"Oh, well," as the man asked her his question, Mena had realized this as the perfect opportunity to segue into her questioning of the counterfeit money. However, she hadn't actually thought of how to go about this on her way here, or at least not thought of any way, and was now stuck to trying to do this on the spot. Alright, first thing was first, a reason she was here. "I've been doing a lot traveling recently and my funds have started to dry up so I just decided to start looking for work." Alright good, that wasn't a lie. She just had to keep the ball rolling. "So, I started looking around for freelance stuff here, but then I heard somethings about 'bad money' or 'counterfeit pay' which didn't sound all that great for business you know?" Okay, that was mostly a lie, but at least she had managed to get through it without stuttering or anything of the like. "So I decided to look at businesses like my own and see what they had to say on the matter."

[Yui]

---

"I don't know what you're talking about. If you are insinuating that my position here in the slums, oft characterized as 'crime-ridden,' means I should know of such a crime, you are sadly mistaken."

 

"Somebody's lying to me, and I don't know if it's you or my client. I'd prefer it if it was you, honestly," Eyla responded. Yuria was sliding into a combat stance. This wasn't going to end peacefully, was it? Fine by her. Today felt like a halberd day to Eyla, and so the warrior girl reached for the hilt of the large weapon over her back, keeping a close eye on Yuria in the meantime. Sadly, as much as she'd want a good lengthy fight, Eyla would probably have to make this one quick. If other guards caught wind of this and piled in on Eyla, the numbers could end up being too much for skill to compensate for. In addition to that, the sooner Yuria was dealt with, the sooner she'd get her information on the fake coins, or lack thereof.

 

Pulling forth the halberd and grabbing the weapon roughly in the middle with her other hand, Eyla continued "All I can say for sure is that I don't mind if you want to get violent. I've been itching for some practice these last couple days."

[Makο]

 

His positive demeanor had vanished in a second after hearing what he did. While she certainly attempted to be indirect on the issue and not bring it up her direct intentions, anyone with half a brain could tell what she was talking about, to say nothing of someone who is involved in the entire scandal. He reached into his furnace to pull out the metal he was heating, and began to wail on it again.

 

"Laddie... let ol' Andre give ye a piece 'o advice. Stay out o' this matter. I dunna what ye know exactly, but diggin' yer way into this is like diggin' yer own grave."

 

He looked over what he was hitting for a moment, and seemed satisfied before continuing.

 

"If ye a' startin' yer own business here, this ain't nothin' to worry about. Small timers ain't affected as much."

 

He placed the metal into the bucket, releasing a burst of steam.

 

 

This dumb broad has about as much tact as a drunk bear. Yuria found herself nearly dumbstruck at just how loud and willing to fight this jabroni is, especially considering they're in the middle of a city AND that she's a bloody guard of all people. But, hey, it comes with the territory, she supposed. Drawing her flat-blade, she stood facing Eyla, combat ready.

 

"Ok, look. I know not what you want from me, or why you are acting in such an aggressive way. But for the sake of the safety of the city, I cannot let this sort of transgression slide."

 

Instead of moving in to attack, however, she took out a small metal trinket from her pouch. After taking a very, very deep breath, she blew into it, letting out an ear-piercing whistle at an incredible volume. Several passerby's paused for a moment, before continuing on their day as if nothing had happened. A few moments later, the echo of one, two, five, seven other whistles from throughout the city began to resound through the streets. Taking a step back, Yuria took a defensive stance, watching Eyla carefully. The broad might seem to have the intelligence of a lobotomized rat, but she was clearly an experienced fighter, and not to be underestimating. Plus, all she had to do was last.

[Alaina]

While Mena had tried to be subtle she, at the same time, was most likely entirely too obvious to the seasoned blacksmith. His friendly demeanor seemed to change into one that was more solemn, concerned, and overall cautionary. Warning the young girl that going any farther would likely not be any good, he did his best to try and dissuade her from whatever it was that she was getting herself into. Obviously, Mena wasn't going to just walk away, as this was definitely something to worry about given it was her actual job to find out, but there was something more to it. Based on how it would "dig her own grave" the problem seemed to be a bigger than just counterfeiting money. 

 

"'As much' is still something, though," she remarked. "Besides, it doesn't feel right to just let sleeping dogs lie in a case like this. If it's gonna affect business, then the problem will only grow, right? And if it grows too big that it starts affecting you too much, what are you going to do?" After she pseudo-lectured Andre, she let out a bit of a sigh and said, "all I want to do is help out. After all, a blacksmith's business should only decline if the quality of their craft does, right?"