RP:Museum Curator

Summary: Locke joins the Adventurer's Guild, taking on the role of the guild museum's curator.

Adventurer's Guild Museum

Meri had requested that a short list of people meet her within this very building, all of which have been given no specific date or time. While Meri would not be here in the Museum, twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week, Locke was in luck. Meri was in today! Except she was not here by herself. Today she had to bring her child with her, it was one of the downsides of being a single mother, for when the babysitter is unavailable it can be challenging to find a replacement. Once Locke makes it through security, he won't have a hard time finding Meri. She's on the main floor of the Museum, standing right in front of a painting and admiring and studying the work. No, she did not paint this picture and selfishly put it in display at the Museum. The artist is wondering, during her admiration of the work, if any piece she'll ever dream up will be fancied enough by the public that it ends up on display at a Museum somewhere. Ultimately she concludes probably not.

Locke was enamored with the museum from the moment he approached its gates. Time may have been of the essence -- Penelope was halfway to death’s door -- but if he could conduct what he reckoned would be urgent business whilst visiting a center of history and culture? All the better. He resisted the urge to study the architecture, ignored the marble facade, gave no second glances toward the arches… but he wanted so desperately to spend ample time with it all. “Weapons,” the museum’s guard bellowed, and Locke blinked before slowly grasping the woman’s meaning. “Of course.” He handed her his knife and shortbow. “That’s it?” Locke blinked again. “Should I have more?” The woman chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Just seems like half of Lithrydel carries enough on ‘em for a small army these days. Can’t blame them, of course… not with Kahran out there. I’ll bet he spread the plague, you know.” Locke cleared his throat and nodded briskly. There was that name again -- Kahran. But he hadn’t the time to pay it much heed. “Yes,” he said, and “thank you,” and then he was inside the museum. It took his breath away. “Why, the tapestries alone could answer so many questions.” Slack-jawed, he hurried along in search of Meri, although he spared a quizzical examination of the velociraptor skeleton. ‘I suppose living specimens make for fine reconstructions, too,’ he pondered. “Ah, there you are! And you’ve brought a miniature friend!”

Meri catches a glimpse of a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. The exact conversation he is having with the Museum staff is lost to her at this exact moment, the other conversations in the room made it hard for her to hone in on what was being said. Not that it mattered too much to her. Though it does occur to her while watching Locke, was there any real benefit to having security remove people of their weapons in this land? All it took was one mage passing through security. Or psion. Or a Khitti in her Sailor Moon mode. Who would think to confiscate her tiara? These thoughts are only half-way cast aside. She'll deal with the pleasantries first. A smile is offered to Locke, "I have, though I suppose you have met this one before. She just looked a little different." You know, because she was in Meri's belly. Fleur is a black-haired, blue-eyed bundle of cute....if Locke is the sort to find babies to be cute. Some don't. "Her name is Fleur." And Fleur is staring at Locke. Well. The child is staring at his ears. She may not be old enough to talk, but she is aware enough of things that she can make the observance that...Locke's ears look different than other ears she has seen. "Anyway. Thank you for meeting with me. I can't imagine that this chat will take dreadfully much time. There are just a couple of things that I wanted to ask you. First. How do you feel about having your weapons taken upon entry?"

Locke had had little exposure to children of any stage, but he never found babies especially ugly, at least. This one seemed particularly delightful, what with her apparent inquisitiveness. “She’ll be curiouser and curiouser as she grows,” he said warmly. “Already she’s wondering why I seem different. I know a fellow scholar when I see her!” Locke’s grin was practically ear-to-unusual-ear. Meri’s question caught him off-guard; he had anticipated some form of questioning, but presumed it would all be relevant to their pending journey. Perhaps this was; perhaps Meri was testing him in some unforeseen way. “I don’t mind,” he said with some thought. “Although it seems a bit inefficient, wouldn’t you say? The magically-inclined could waltz in here and destroy countless crucial cultural artifacts with a wave of a wand or dark prayer… I shudder to think of such a thing, but I’ve heard-tell of ancient troves of invaluable knowledge turned to ash over unrelated squabbles.”

Meri bobs her head in agreement as Locke's response pretty much mirrors her answer. Now the subject would be pressed to the back of her mind. Maybe she would have those who are in the guild's Intelligence Unit spend some time researching and working on a more efficient way to keep the museum safe, both it's artifacts and the people inside, from magical means as well. If they could not come up with a solution, then Meri resolves to nullify the weapons check all together. "She'll only be a scholar if she takes after her father. Her momma's better at punching things than she is at being smart." Meri smirks, as she is prone to doing when she takes a jab at her own person. "The real reason that I asked you here was to see if you might have any interest in joining the Adventurer's Guild, the people responsible for getting out there and finding all of these artifacts that you see in the Museum. Of course, that's only one facet of what we do. I do not know much about you, but from what I have learned you have an intense interest in culture." Meri waves about the museum, the guild had that to offer. "You also speak of your travels, which gives me the impression you are an avid traveler. Plus, you mentioned having a dragon friend who would be able to vouch for your abilities? If we know the same person, then he is also a member of this guild. I personally think you'd be a great fit with us, if you're so inclined."

Locke was stunned by Meri’s offer. It wasn’t often in his wanderings that someone asked him to become a permanent part of their organization. His first impulse was to smile, and smile he did. His eyes lit up at the chance to spend as much time in this museum as he wanted. The promise of further discovery in the field magnified his interest tenfold. “That would be lovely,” he said. “Absolutely marvelous. And the dragon? Scandal is his name.” A strange name indeed, but Locke was not one to judge. “I fear I have little to offer but for my boundless nosiness in all things intellectual. Well, except poetry.” He shook his head lightly. “I can’t fathom poetry. ‘Tis above me, I suppose.” A moment’s pause, however, dimmed Locke’s countenance. “But in truth, I would be selfish to accept your invitation, Meri. I am, to be sure, an ‘avid traveler.’ Ever since I parted ways with my clan to explore the world, I have not stayed in one place overlong. I cannot vouch for my permanency. To mask this from you would be irresponsible.” He soured with a sigh. “It is tempting. The Adventurer’s Guild sounds like the sort of place that has everything I could possibly want while I am here in Lithrydel. And, indeed, I would remain here for months on-end if you would have me. But I imagine you desire longer-term investments.” Wanderlust had its downsides.

Meri was perplexed by this answer. In one hand, Locke is explaining that it would be lovely to join, on the other it seemed to her that he was ultimately declining the offer. The blonde found herself at a loss of what to say. Brows are furrowed together as she attempts to consider the most appropriate response, but Fleur is happy to fill in the silence with some random babbling. It's about thirty-seconds before Meri settles on an answer that she deems suitable enough, the mother ultimately forced to talk over Fleur's gibberish. "I am sure that you have far more to offer than you would give yourself credit for. If I for a second believed that you would not be a person of value to the guild, and that you might not find some additional camaraderie here, then I would not have offered. However, if you have your uncertainties, then I am not sure what to tell you...other than the offer will stand. I don't know that I take issue with members potentially only staying in the lands for a few months...People come and they go all the time. Who am I to make these expectations of them? With how these lands work, you might find yourself staying a lot longer than intended. But in the end it is your choice and decision and I am not here to pressure you into joining my guild, so if you would prefer not to then I will respect your choice and will still work to help you find a cure for your Penelope if you would still like my assistance."

Locke was visibly delighted again. His apprehension evaporated like dew from the rising sun. “That is a relief,” he exhaled. “In the Confederacy, you see, the various guilds were… for life.” He sighed. “In many other places, employment is offered on a per-year basis; it is the client’s understanding that they must remain for ‘x’ amount of time or be the subject of humiliation, debt, or even personal damage. It is for this reason and this reason alone that I have never before entered into the services of any organization, in any civilization I have found myself within.” Locke peered upon a nearby tapestry, taking in the scenery. A winged horse flew over a large and festive gathering of half-clad elves with deep purple skin. They looked almost drow-like, and yet that would have seemed incredulous to most. But not Locke. “A watercolor in this condition, after so many centuries, is a marvel to behold. Ancestral elves with skin toned as such,” he gestured, “once roamed the world quite like I do before the spider queens demanded subterranean fealty. I must speak with the curator and learn where this was found, or from whom it was received. It could lead us to peerless historical treasures.” He caught himself before he prattled on ever further. “Forgiveness,” Locke blushed. “We must save Penelope Halifax first and foremost.”

Locke was visibly delighted again. His apprehension evaporated like dew from the rising sun. “That is a relief,” he exhaled. “In the Confederacy, you see, the various guilds were… for life.” He sighed. “In many other places, employment is offered on a per-year basis; it is the client’s understanding that they must remain for ‘x’ amount of time or be the subject of humiliation, debt, or even personal damage. It is for this reason and this reason alone that I have never before entered into the services of any organization, in any civilization I have found myself within.” Locke peered upon a nearby tapestry, taking in the scenery. A winged horse flew over a large and festive gathering of half-clad elves with deep purple skin. They looked almost drow-like, and yet that would have seemed incredulous to most. But not Locke. “A watercolor in this condition, after so many centuries, is a marvel to behold. Ancestral elves with skin toned as such,” he gestured, “once roamed the world quite like I do before the spider queens demanded subterranean fealty. I must speak with the curator and learn where this was found, or from whom it was received. It could lead us to peerless historical treasures.” He caught himself before he prattled on ever further. “Forgiveness,” Locke blushed. “We must save Penelope Halifax first and foremost.”

Meri is still perplexed, for Locke's answer offered very little clarity in what he was wanting...other than it was a relief that there were no extreme stipulations with this guild, because there were back in his homeland. Fleur is starting to get a little antsy. She has been stuck on her mother's hip for the duration of this conversation, her babbling starts to increase in volume as a show of her boredom. The baby was not old enough to toddle around on her own two feet, but she was still mobile and really wanted Meri to put her down so that she could get into mischief. Of course, Meri cannot oblige in her daughter's wordless demands, all she can do is shift her from right hip to left. This was not for Fleur's benefit at all. Meri's arm was just getting tired. "Currently, we do not have anyone positioned within the role of curator. Were you to join, I would be happy to let you fill such a position within the guild..."

Locke was shocked. “No curator? Every museum needs a curator! I will be your curator, posthaste!” Well, that was that, then. Locke was a vague and meandering sort of fellow, but there were moments of immense clarity to him, too. “If permitted, I would very much like to take stock at once. I will also need ample parchment and an ink quill -- luckily, I have both these items inside my tree.” Someone else might have said ‘at home,’ but not Locke Abigail. “It’s a bit of a disservice to call it -my- tree, of course. The tree has been there for a lot longer than I have, and I suspect it scarcely notices my comings and goings.” He laughed at his own strange levity. “At any rate, ample parchment and an ink quill. As curator, I must transcribe everything. Catalog it meticulously.” For such a young lad, Locke was beaming with an almost sagely purpose. “Only when we know precisely what we have should we take on even more.” Luckily, there was something about Locke that gave most people the impression he was the sort who’d transcribe whole novels in three nights’ candles or fewer. “Of course, even my enthusiasm has its limits. The sooner we make for Venturil, the less likely we’ll all be to suffer nightmares over poor Penelope. I am ready to depart whenever you are. I have sent a raven for Scandal already.”

Meri motions for Locke to follow her through the museum. Where are they going? To an office, an office that might normally belong to someone that holds the title of curator...but as Meri has been trying to endeavor to make progress on the very same task that Locke also hoping to complete. He'll find all of the supplies that he needs within this office, including what little progress Meri has actually made on checking the catalogues to what is physically in the museum. "We've recently undergone some change in leadership within the guild, and one of the former leaders...Well he disappeared very suddenly and without any word to the guild. With the number of items that are here, I am concerned that items may have disappeared with him. I hope though, that I am mistaken and that we will find that our collections are quite complete. What you see on the floor is of course only the items safe to display to the public. We do have a private vault that will be in need of inspection." Once in the office, Meri uses a key to open a drawer in a desk. A compass is retrieved from this drawer, along with a second set of keys. All of these are given to Locke. "In addition to that, at some point after we have managed to help Penelope if it is preferable to you." Yes, Meri is speaking in terms of when and not if in regards to Penelope's declining health. "I would also like you to partner with those in our Intelligence Unit. I want you to see if you guys can find a way to make the museum resistant to any of the antics mages might be able to subject the museum too. If we cannot find a way to protect our museum from them too, then I want our security to adjust their habits. No removing weapons from those who are entering. I feel like an all or nothing deal is what we should angle for in our efforts to keep our artifacts safe. Currently, Khitti, Scandal and Tiber are all part of the Intelligence Unit. I will send word to them as well to inform them of this research request."

Locke followed Meri with great interest. He accepted the keys with ease and fiddled amusingly with the compass while the guild leader went on. “I hope you’re mistaken, too. Either way, I will do my best to help secure this location. I have seen pieces of history, with stories to be told and lessons to be learned, vanish from too many vaults in too many museums and towers. I would sooner forgive the thieves if their intentions were noble; knowledge is meant to be shared, after all, and some wealthy patrons don’t agree with that sentiment. But nine times out of ten? The thieves think only of base profits. What good is profit when it is spent in ignorance?” The half-elf sighed again and collected himself as best he could. “I digress, my lady. Magic is not my forte, but I believe I can still be of service to your Intelligence Unit. I’m unfamiliar with Kathy and Tiber,” he accidentally mispronounced, having been quite outraged over prospective thievery when Meri had said it, “but I’m pleased to know my good friend Scandal is on the team. I am certain I’ll enjoy working with all three.”

Fleur screams bloody murder for absolutely no reason and Meri cringes. As much as she loved her daughter, that was her dang eardrum that her child was screaming into right now. She would like to not go deaf at the ripe old age of twenty-nine. "Oh yes, I don't expect you to be an expert. But I do trust that in partnering with them, you will at least be able to make sure that any ideas they do come up with will...actually be suitable for the museum. They can try and come up with the how, and you will make sure that it is plausible." Meri has half a mind to correct Locke. Khitti, not Kathy. But...honestly...Kathy's sister really think it would be amusing for poor Locke to get it all messed up with he meets her for the first time. It's not because she wants to torment Locke, but you know...what's the point of having a sister if not for antics like this? "I think you will indeed enjoy working with them. Anyyway, I think I should best take my leave before Fleur has a complete and total melt down. Enjoy getting settled into your new position as curator, and if you need anything of me then please do not hesitate to send word. I have a studio out in Cenril where letters can be sent to." The blonde lingers in the room long enough to see if Locke has any final questions, but it's obvious she is getting antsy herself and wanting to take her leave...before Fleur has a fit.

Locke was distracted by Fleur’s sudden outburst and wondered if the toddler was in a state of crisis. A cursory examination led the lad to determine that she was in strong health and needed no immediate intervention. “Please, do not let me keep you! I’ll make good use of these candles,” he pointed to the unlit sticks of wax among the supplies, “but ensure I have enough rest to be ready for the expedition on a moment’s notice.” Locke had no further questions; only excitement blanketed his face now. He would soon survey the museum’s public sector before heading down into its vaults. The library in Rynvale was a touch underwhelming, but the Adventurer’s Guild Museum seemed likely to feature everything about Lithrydel that Locke wished to know.