RP:An Informative One-Sided Discussion
Part of the The Cenrilian Connection Arc
Coffin Maker
Within this building are many, many coffins. All of them vary in color and size, some finer than others, but all of them seem in good quality. In the back of the room you can see a deranged little man hammering nails into a large piece of wood, constructing another sleeping place for the dead, or undead. Finally noticing you the strange being turns and flashes you an almost toothless grin, but he doesn't seem to speak. Instead the odd little person simply gestures various things to you, before he writes down on a piece of parchment 'I am Varen'. After this you come to the conclusion that this man is a mute, and seems to be the only coffin maker in town. Despite his shaggy clothing, you feel he has a horde of riches, for many of the undead here, and even the dead, do need resting places, and this is the man to see.
Kasyr , surprisingly, is not here with an absurd amount of paperwork on hand. Though the revenant's business still pertains to the political affairs of Vailkrin, it's not the sort the revenant can resolve through the careful application of scribbled ink. It's for this reason that the Kensai now stands in front of Varen's shop, anxiously twisting a jagged shard of a coffin in his hand- whilst the rest of it lies in the custody of an undead thrall behind him. Things had taken a turn for the worse in his city, yet again- something which reminded the revenant that he had been remiss in setting his sword aside. Redhale was right, there was certain things he was far more well suited to. Nudging that thought aside, the revenant hammered on the door to Varen's shop again, "Hey, Monsieur. As I'd mentioned earlier in my note, Je vous besoin- rather, I need to speak with you for a little while."
Satoshi is not an undead thrall, you poor excuse for a frog. Nor is she a packmule. But somehow, the kit has ended up in custody of the coffin, and the original carrier is no where to be seen, having been relieved of its burden and chased off by a determined little figure in a pale, ragged cloak. Now attired and equipped in such a way as to be overlooked by Varen once they reach the shop, Satoshi is well-suited to sniffing out any clues while Kasyr makes conversation--with only marginal aid coming from her magic-sensitive whiskers, since half of them had been cleaved off by a certain revenant a week ago. Jerk.
Kasyr , lacking any sort of response, simply takes the most logical course of action - which is to say he simply barges right in. It's with his intrusion into the shop proper that he finally becomes aware of a dull thudding noise beyond what he'd been hammering against the door- something which draws his attention to the back of the shop, and in thus to Varen in turn. With a sort of devotion that is most often seen in a master swordsman or an artisan, the coffinmaker hammers upon a casket- every blow precise, a near flawless rhythm having been set up. The only alterations that seem to occur come in the few odd moments where the casket hammers back, though they are feeble and far between. The revenant allows a few more moments, before he draws up one hand and makes a rather loud "Hrm."
Satoshi peers around the battered edge of the coffin she holds, eyes barely visible over the scarf snug around her face. The expression the kit wears is a cross between intrigued and amused. "Bet the one inside is that fellow who tried to open another coffin shop in town," she murmurs to Kasyr, voice barely audible through the muffling scarf. Satoshi sincerely doubts the City of Death houses only a single coffinmaker through purely legitimate means. Varen may be toothless, shaggy, and mute, but he is no fool. He is an artist and a master, as is evident in the dedicated way he keeps to his hammering, only a slight turning of his head indicating he's listening to his guests at all. Satoshi is hasty to shuffle back behind her coffin then, to avoid catching the craftsman's eyes should he turn fully around.
Kasyr steps forward, a motion that also allows him to artfully juxtapose himself in front of Satoshi to further aid in her endeavour of 'hiding'. "Recently, through a rather peculiar sequence of events, I've come into possession of a Casket- though unfortunately both the contents and the container have been damaged." The revenant pauses, and gingerly twists the chunk of coffin in his hand, before he makes an offhanded gesture, "Surprisingly, it was the contents which suffered the most- which es unfortunate, since it made it an impossibility to recover them. Still, it did leave moi with enough to present to you, to see if tu could peut-etre recognize this coffin, either as one of your own pieces of craftsmanship, that had simply ended up used et abused, or whether it was one belonging to a rival craftsman." The revenant pauses then, scratching at the underside of his chin. Celiann had been taken from the city. Somewhere uncomfortably warm. Had the casket been imported, a rival casket maker, or had it been one of Vare- One last crack of the hammer slams against the Casket, the effort seemingly serving to quell its contents, and leaving Varen free to set down his tool and turn an appraising gaze towards the revenant and his 'accompaniment'.
Satoshi keeps one ear on the.... can it be called a conversation when one member is a mute? Whatever the proper term, Satoshi is keeping a portion of her attention on it, while her gaze travels the shop displays. Dark woods, heavy woods, sleek and polished woods, for the most part the material used by Varen is similar to the species of trees found in Frostmaw. Trees suited to withstand perpetual damp and cold, for the cities of War and Death carry those same traits. Yet the coffin in the magus' possession bears obvious signs of water rot. Even as these thoughts are crossing Satoshi's mind, Varen is plucking the shard from Kasyr's hand, to give it a disdainful sniff before chucking it over his shoulder. A sharp shake of his head and an earnest gesture at his gathered pieces of work are his answer: this cheap wood would never befoul his workshop.
Kasyr glances over towards Satoshi, before he moves to take hold of the cracked casket she's carrying, and heave it up onto the nearest available surface. An action that causes Varen's mostly toothless mouth to peel back into a frown, before he taps it, glances up at the revenant in a quizzical manner. Clearly, the revenant wasn't riveting enough to warrant a scrap of paper and a pen yet- though, that wasn't like it hindered Kasyr. Hanging out with Saiyah, and the revenant's own period of time spent speechless, contributes a fair bit towards the revenant interpreting what's being mimed out, "I know you just acknowledged this wasn't one of yours, but there was a second part of my question. If this was a piece of a rival craftsman. More specifically, if tu could peut-etre recognize one in specific, peut-etre due to a signature they might leave, or a technique or trademark. ...Or just specifically very haphazard craftsmanship." The revenant pauses for a moment, his fingers brushing over the nails in the Casket, sneering at the slight discomfort the metal manages to elicit from him. Silver, that had been tampered with specifically, "Maybe ties with holy organizations..peut-etre?"
Satoshi, once she's relieved of her burden, spends a few moments brushing her hands absently on her cloak. She hadn't noticed it until the coffin was out of her grasp, but there's a distinct tingling in her fingers now as of sleeping limbs reawakening. Where they'd been pressed to the silver nails on the trip here, they'd grown partially numb from the contact. What few whiskers the magus is still in possession of quiver as Satoshi brings her hands up to sniff at them then. The magical residue is enough to make her sneeze. "Holy magic," the eidolon scoffs, mostly to herself. Varen hears it, however, and nods in agreement. It's then that the shopkeep retrieves his trademark paper and pencil, to scribble down a string of words before pushing the note toward Kasyr with a offended gesture. 'Cenril. Rynvale. Dry climate. Light woods. Poor design. Rythal Olive.' By this point Satoshi has shuffled nearer, curiosity causing her to forget her attempts at going unnoticed. The last words on the list she murmurs aloud, frowning. "That's... a type of tree. There's a large grove of them in northern Cenril. By the mayor's house. Cuki used to walk with me there before going to the Temple." As the kit speaks, she glances up to find Varen's scrutinizing gaze on her, causing her to stop short, cough, and shuffle sideways.
Kasyr is utterly quiet at first, simply alternating between listening to Satoshi and observing Varen's notes- until the grinding squeak of clenched teeth emanates from him, a change which accompanies the steady contortion of his practiced neutral expression into one of profound rage. For a few long moments, the revenant simply sits there and seethes, his fury palpable and oppressive, hanging heavy in the air and causing the depths of nearby shadows to contort disconcertingly. And yet, he begins to compose himself, bit by bit- if only because he remembers his purpose, a thought that is sobering in and of itself...and made all the more by the manner in which the revenant becomes acutely aware that Varen is -staring- at him. Clearly, the coffin maker has witnessed his share of similar displays from clients in the past- especially given the all-too-composed manner in which he presses the paper he'd been scribbling on into the Revenant's hand. Albeit, flipped over- and with a few more notes scribbled on the back. Rather, a few more names...and what looks suspiciously like a hastily jotted down bill. "...Right." As if in response, Varen taps a finger against the counter, before he makes his way towards the back of the room once more.
Satoshi's ears fold back at the obvious presence of her husband's rage, although she doesn't make any attempts to shy away or calm him, instead standing steadfast as usual. Thus when the revenant has himself back under control, the magus is still at his side, putting Satoshi in prime position to read the note when it's handed over. A bill? "That's... something else." It's all Satoshi offers, mouth pressed into a grim line. 'Stupid' might have been a choice word, but as the kit had thought earlier, Varen is no fool. You do not become the singular coffin maker in Vailkrin through stupidity. Satoshi can't help but feel a niggling respect for the craftsman, enough so that she fishes a handful of coins from the depths of her cloak to be piled upon the counter--more than the bill calls for. After all, a well-paid informant is one who will come to -you- if they hear more news.
Kasyr had been all but poised to begin fishing through his pockets for the amount 'owed'- but Satoshi beats him to the punch, something which simply leads him holding the paper, and scrutinizing the additional notes that had been left. Names. He had someone who could check on those now. With his questions answered for the most part, the revenant prepares to leave- if only to briefly pause, "Beyond being simply 'on hand', would the choice of Rythal Olive as a wood be possibly significant? Does it have any connotations which might prove relevant, ou quoi-ce-soit?"
Satoshi pipes up before Varen can--CAN'T, you mute! "It's popular with the monks in Cenril and Rynvale, since it's common, thus cheap, but sturdy. Cuki had it used for training dummies, practice weapons, and the like." Again the magus finds Varen staring at her as she speaks, but this time Satoshi doesn't relent, something in the man's expression urging her onward. "It's... also vaguely anti-magical in nature. Nothing spectacular, just a sort of 'magic doesn't like to cling to it' deal. Helps with the monks' training against spell-weavers. I imagine a cage--or coffin," Varen taps his nose at this remark, grinning, "made of it would subdue a magical creature. Huh." That'd explain why she was always so drowsy when at Aramoth's Temple. Cuki, you horrid sneak.
Kasyr lets out a slow exhale at the latest tidbit of information, then simply shakes his head and offers a curt nod to both Varen and Satoshi, "Merci, beaucoup. I'll be certain to seek you out in the future, should I have any other inquiries along these lines- or if tu have something you might deign of interest to moi. In the meantime, I suppose I'll have to find out if I'm going to be reducing the number of competitors you have abroad." The look that Kasyr's comment elicits from Varen is not grateful, however, but rather one of subtle mirth - more aimed at the idea that other individuals could be considered competitors, rather than any other detail. With that said, the Revenant folds up the piece of paper, and begins to stride out the door. This left crafter, client, and the place where it was held. And the reason. Always the reason. The exacts bothered him. As did the manner in which her house had reacted. "On y va, Cherie? There's a few more things I'd like to address."
Satoshi follows after Kasyr, but not before stopping at the door to glance back at the coffin Varen had finished upon their arrival. "Don't suppose that's an avian in there?" Rather than look surprised, the coffinmaker appears apologetic, his head shaken in response. Crestfallen, Satoshi bows her head and departs, a fair bit lighter in pocket and heavier in thoughts.
Kasyr waits until the door closes behind Satoshi, before he takes a step back and musses up her hair- having obviously given her those few extra moments so her dignity could be spared. Once done, the Revenant then begins to pick up the pace once more, his intended destination being the castle, "You can always ask the fellows we're meeting next. I had asked them shortly after our esteemed guest arrivated at the castle to begin a few preliminary investigations in regards to her place of origins." Specifically, he'd asked House Asharam to keep an especially close eye on House Ginavi, the very moment he began to make his movements. Sure, Celiann was 'dead'- but such an outcome didn't mean the perpetrators of the offense were untouchable. The fact that the casket had been found, and Celiann had been able to get in contact with anyone at all was likely enough to panic those concerned- and that the Revenant had explicitly moved to -try- and seize her assets? It would likely signal to the perpetrators that the revenant was on their trail, and it was highly unlikely that the manner in which all her assets had mysteriously disapeared was likely going to do anything to dissuade the revenant from continuing his investigation. If anything, it was just another red flag, given the manner in which her research had wholly disapeared, and not an ounce of it had been provided forward. He could only hope that the ones at the center of this particular incident would begin to feel pressured and panic. That they'd make a mistake and tip their hand- and that House Asharam, was just as sharp as they claimed in the art of information gathering. Right now, of all the houses, they were likely to prove themselves nearest and dearest, beyond his own. "...I suppose I ought to have them keep an eye on Varen as well." His snooping may very well result in someone else paying the coffin maker a visit, and it was always good to keep tabs.
Kasyr casually plunks a cigarette to his lips, lights it, and begins to contemplate about the trouble that down on their luck dames drop on his doorstep. At the rate this trouble was complicating itself, he'd probably be overdue for a drink soon. Maybe something Cenrilli in nature. Priest, maybe.
Satoshi sets about putting her hair back into dignified order while Kasyr talks, and she follows. "I suppose now was a good time as any for my vacation, hm? Frostmaw can manage with Hildegarde while we tend to...whatever it is we've gotten ourselves into." Holy war? Traitor houses? Something tells Satoshi Varen's bill is going to keep growing at this rate, as will his workload.
Kasyr glances straight up, before he slowly shakes his head, "Et bien. I don't really know. Et with everything else going on, that's part of what worries me, en fait." The revenant glances back towards Satoshi and just grins, "I'm sure I'll be fine as long as I have tu, et the rest of Coterie, watching my back." The revenant cocks his head off to one side and adds, "Is there any details I've forgotten to attend to? We still need to talk to our guest. See if she might have any ideas. Send a note to Cenril, see if we can figure out if anyone made or shipped a Casket to these specifications along the time frame that the 'Eventual-asset-in-the-Casket' vanished...as well as who might have been sent out to accompany it, or on Sortie." He's betting in accompaniment. Given that the design of that casket was rather specific, they likely wouldn't want to risk it getting damaged before it did the job- so he's betting in accompaniment. Funeral that would have run adjacent to that time period, with a Casket of that specification? Hrm. "Need to check the ruins near the Cenril, see if that might pan out, peut-etre. ...Anything else? other than waiting on information?" ...Like finding out things in regards to the devourer, dealing with cultists, Svilfon, Guild business.
Satoshi is suddenly missing Frostmaw, where the most complicated matters were whether or not a Frost Giant had stolen the kill of another, and problems were all solved in the arena or tavern. At Kasyr's question, the magus perks up slightly to add, "Anything else? A few bottles of blood wine, and perhaps an assassin or two." Maybe now would be a good time to bring the Orthus back down from Frostmaw to its homeland, let it sniff out and devour whatever is the source of trouble in Vailkrin.
Kasyr glances over at Satoshi, and offers her a lopsided grin, "Well, there's a cellar in the castle, and the vintages are fairly choice, en fait. As for the other part- well. I know why -I- might need some assassins, but I'm curious as to why -you- offered that suggestion, Cherie."
Satoshi gives Kasyr a wolfish look that promises she'll be raiding that wine supply. Or maybe the expression she wears is in relation to her comment as she ambles past him with a flick of her tails, "Problems can't be problems, if they're dead~."
Kasyr just returns that grin. He's -all- in favor of that form of trouble-shooting. Once he figures out what's the source of all the problems.