RP: The Cutting Edge Of Research

Part of the A Few Fox Tales Arc

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Summary: In their quest to make use of that book they found -way-, -way- back at the Tower of Tedium, Ina decides to snoop around one of the prior owners of a Yamamoto Silverleaf Blade. Mostly, this involves bothering the hell out of Khitti.

Ginger Snapped Bakery and Sweetshop

Bricks in varying red and orange shades make up the outside of Cenril’s most popular bakery, denoting the type of clay used in their composition, amongst other things. A sign hangs just above the darkly-stained cherry wood door--the sign also made of the same material--with the name ‘Ginger Snapped Bakery and Sweetshop’ spelled out in red and orange jasper, while large bay windows located on either side of the door, bears faux cakes, pies, and other desserts as a way to entice shoppers into coming inside. In the bottom corners of the windows, nearest to the door, are signs stating ‘Bigotry will not be tolerated in this establishment’ and anyone acting or speaking in such a manner is promptly thrown out. On the inside, several large glass cases are set up, spanning the entire eastern wall of the building, as well as half of the southern. Each case is equipped with several shelves, all of which are dedicated to holding any type of baked good one might think up, as well as a section solely for varying types of truffles and hard candies. On the wall behind the serving counter is a list of teas, sandwiches, and other things not shown in the cases--like catering and wedding cakes--and their prices. The entire left side of the building consists of several chairs and tables of varying composition, made up of the same darkly-stained cherry wood as the sign outside, as well as a side door that leads out into a garden where guests can dine at their leisure. The dining area inside the building is a sizeable one, complete with booths, tables and chairs, and even a small side room for parties or for those that’d like to dine in peace. The most striking feature out of the entire inside of the bakery is a magnificently painted mural depicting various fairy tales, the most prominent ones being those in a sort of wonderland filled with talking playing cards, an angry red queen, and lots of white flowers being painted red, while the other features a gingerbread house with two children snacking on the outside of it as an evil witch lurks inside. As per usual with restaurants of any sort, it also has a massive kitchen with several stations set up for employees to work in their own designated areas, as well as a magical oven that bakes in a quarter of the time of regular ovens, and a two compartment sink for the end-of-shift washing of dishes. In the southwestern corner of the kitchen, there’s a door that leads out back to the street behind the bakery and a cherry wood staircase that leads up to the second story.

Ina bounces from one leg to the other, her focus locked on cozy looking shop ahead of her. After all, whilst she'd certainly done her due diligence in researching the sword detailed in Yamamoto's book, and tracking down it's latest owner- it was something else entirely to chat with them about parting ways with a sacred relic. Or, well, sizing them up to get sticky-fingered about the whole deal. She looks positively agonized- her hands smacking against her cheeks, only to begin dragging them down. Aya was off-limits- it was too good a cover for hanging with Lan, and Trish was already sort of innately sketchy. The sister had no reason to hunt it down- and whilst it -could- have been funny to go as the reporter that had been snooping into the Mage Guild. Well. That could just as quickly end in Pyrotechnics and pugilistic displays. Hard work she was ill-suited for, in other words. "New identity it is." Which is to say, While the lithe red-headed foxkin skips away from the store, nary a half hour later does a dapper gentleman in a brown-waistcoat, dark pants, and a bowler hat stroll over. There's a pudge to him, constrained not just to his bellies rebellion against his attempts at a debonair presentation, but in the fullness of his face. Something which makes his perfectly coifed handlebar mustache look extra ridiculous. And his red hair, though thinning- has been elegantly combed over beneath his hat as though to preserve his dignity. "But what's in a name?" The foxkin, as this is invariably yet another of her polymorphed identities, hums and haws- her mind going over some small mental acrobatics, even as she picks at the sleeve of her latest batch of borrowed clothes, "Gilbert ... Gadsfly? Too on tha' nose. Gatley. Yes. Esquire." Yup. There we are. Gilbert Gatley, Esquire- a . . . Novelist and amateur historian. That ought to give enough flexibility. Thus armed with what the foxkin deems as an excellent impromptu identity, she finishes her goal of sauntering over to the bakery, so that she might take a seat, peruse the menu- and find the optimal moment to make inquiries.

Khitti || For once, the bakery’s owner was actually there. And helping! You’d think that she’d be there more often, considering the fact that she lives right above it, but Khitti’s life was a rather odd one. One of those neat little pocketed half aprons had been adorned--which she mostly kept snacks in--and her hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, leaving her long bangs to dangle on either side of her face as she went about taking orders. Khitti was incredibly tempted to throw Gilbert Gatley’s table onto Victoria’s list, but eventually, Khitti just sighed exasperatedly and went to his table. She’d be nice. For today. Maybe. We’ll see. “Hiya! The soup of the day is broccoli cheese, the muffins are always outstanding, and I just finished making a carrot cake a bit ago,” she said, with her customer service voice and mask on. “What are you having?” To someone that might not be paying attention, she’d look like she was having a great time with her job! She got to talk to people! And serve them! And get very little thanks for it all! But, for someone that -was- paying attention, that look of ‘oh god why did I say I’d help with waitressing today’ was as clear as day and the ‘please god kill me’ shone blatantly in her eyes, like any poor retail or food service worker.

Ina, or, one supposes, Gilbert, pulls out a pair of spectacles from his pocket, holding them up in front of his eyes- as though his close-up sight suffered. Really- given these glasses weren't Ina's, they made everything -terrible-, but such was the price to pay. "Mmm, 'Hem, yes. I think I would like . . ." There's that moment of trail off, the sort that might normally cultivate dread in a server as infinite hemming and hawing would ensue, or an incessant number of questions- only to be abruptly punctuated with a brisk, "All of it. Yes. And if you crumpets to go with the soup, and a tea pairing you'd suggest- I would be delighted." A faint (And only recently practiced) Rynvalian twang accompanies the words- that, and the gentle patter of fingers once 'Gilberts' set his hands to the table, and drums them out once. "Though, once that's settled, I'd appreciate a moment of your time." He pauses, squints through the glasses that don't help him see at all, then sets them back in his pocket, "That is, if you're the erstwhile owner? Nothing bad, I assure you, and I would certainly be fine to compensate you for the time spent answering questions. I simply had some accounts fictitious and historical I wanted to set right- and you seemed the most apt source, at present." And out from a different pocket comes a notebook. This one, in fact, actually does belong to Ina- and has a number of notes jotted throughout about magical paraphernalia- some of which she's had a hand in making, others of which is on her list of things to pilfer.

Khitti slow-blinked at the guy, with a vague look of astonishment mixed with skepticism and confusion. “Right. Yes.” Now the question was, did he want all of what she’d just listed? Or one of everything the bakery as a whole had to offer? She gave a flick of her wrist and summoned up her favourite shadow ink pen, and as she carefully wrote down the word ‘everything’ on her tiny notepad, Khitti thought over her choices. She -could- just go with the choice of getting him all of what she’d said, plus the other few bits he’d ordered. OR. Or. She could literally get him everything. Gilbert Gatley clearly liked to eat and clearly was probably made of money. Money that she needed to put away for her kids. Money that she could use to buy a whole barrel full of that whiskey Brand loved. Money that she could use to go to Inks and buy more dresses. “And sure thing, we can talk. Lemme just get your order in,” Khitti said as she took a step back then headed to her lovely head waitress, Victoria. “He wants one of everything. And I mean -everything-. Get him some peppermint tea too, to settle what will likely end up as a stomach ache after eating all of that. I don’t feel like being sued or something.” Victoria just stared at Khitti like she was nuts. That wasn’t the first time she’d gotten that look and it wouldn’t be the last. “Get Albert to help you. Please. He wants me to answer some questions and pay me for it. I’ll give you half.” Vic thought about it for a moment, then nodded and grabbed her lovely husband to start loading up a nice cart with one of everything. Well. It started with one cart. And then made it to two. And then three, seeing as how they had a huge variety of food and drink. Eventually, Khitti returned to the table and took a seat. “What do you want to know about?” Vic soon pushed the first cart of food over by Gilbert’s table.

Ina sniffs as though Gilbert were clearing his sinuses. It certainly wasn't Ina straining to hold back a sharp intake of breath, once she'd realized how swiftly she'd obliterated the -entirety- of her profit margin for the last few days. Still, while the opening gambit had been steep- she still had a hand to play out, given she'd managed to bring Khitti to the table. This means, while Gilbert will certainly be gobbling the growing array of goods accruing nearby- he does so with the grace that would be expected of one of his 'station', and makes sure he has ample time to poise his questions- such as, "There's a magic sword I've been research of late. Unfortunately, while I have a book detailing the process of creation for both it and other blades by the same master- it doesn't really detail much about the blade's journey- and how it developed." The man pauses there, his fingers brushing against themselves to dislodge some crumbs over his plate, if only so he can pull out a copy of Yamamato's 'Ensouled Steel'. "A weapon you wield, as far as I can surmise." Even as Ina wants to press the point further, Gilbert would prefer to bask in this revelation, to allow an adequately emphatic pause to really elevate the drama of the next portion, "Whilst I can't say it will be historical, given some of the notes I've taken are anecdotal accounts from witnesses- I -would- very much prefer that my writings are as factual as possible, in regards to the capacity of weapons like this to evolve. I really think there's something both beautiful and terrifying about how arcane arms can grow in time." This, of anything that has been said- is plausibly the closest thing to an honest statement Ina let's slip- her dabbling in enchanted forging to blame.

Khitti crossed her arms as she listened to the man, offering a nod to Vic once she was done hauling food over, her attention soon returning to the task at hand. “You mean Tenbatsu Kaji. -Used to- wield it. I don’t have it anymore. As for the previous “owners”, from what Seika told me--that is, the sprite within the sword--after Redovian lost control of it, the lich Tiphareth took it and brought it to Trist’oth for House D'Artes, aka the one in rule down there currently. After he frakked off elsewhere, a paladin of Arkhen named Kelovath was eventually kidnapped by the drow matron Gevurah and Tenbatsu Kaji found him. After about a year or so, Kelovath too frakked off elsewhere and the sword eventually fell into the hands of dwarves. There was a Redskull Trophy Ring match in Craughmoyle between Gevurah and Shishi, the current Titans of Winter champion, which I’d been attending. The sword was being offered as a prize for the winner. It didn’t like this, escaped the box which it’d been held in, and came to me. It was in my possession for several years, until it was obvious that Seika and I weren’t going to get along, so I threw the goddamn thing into the ocean. I imagine it’s probably not even rusting away down there, since it’s magical, but I sure wish it was.”

Ina has offhandedly begun to scribble in the notebook they'd brought, jotting down the points of interest as they're said. In this case, the Mention of Seika -definitely- warrants a few underlines, more so than even the chain of owners. That said, the other niggling detail- beyond its ignoble fate underwater, is the matter of choice. "Do you have more details about this Seika? Your experiences with her, as well as any of the former owners, perchance?" There's a pause, both to tap his quill against the parchment, and to make a set of muffins and crumpets disappear into his mouth so he can do an excellent impression of a chipmunk. Once that's done, he resumes, "And what do you mean by, it -choose- you? Could you provide further details about that mechanism?" Frankly, that part might be more relevant than the exact location it's swimming in- in case it has some sort of innate defences. ...A weapon spirit though- and one that can even show distinct preferences amongst its owner. It's definitely an interesting thought exercise, and the sort of thing best mulled over with a fresh sip of tea.

Khitti || As the man asked more questions, particularly about Seika, Khitti’s frakkery senses started to tingle. She squinted at him a little, her head tilted somewhat as she eyed him. “What did you say this was for again? It’s been quite some time since anyone asked about the sword and was typically done by someone from one of the guilds I’m in. And I’m quite certain you’re not in those guilds, as I’m a high enough rank to see that sort of information.” Khitti leaned back in her chair, her line of sight fixing on other customers for a moment, “What is it you’re really after with this? You’re not a scholar or a devout, or else you wouldn’t be asking me these questions in the first place. Even strange girls that live in ponds and hate the gods know why the sword does what it does. Who -are- you?” Khitti’s attention finally settled on the man again, that customer service attitude of hers gone.

Ina doesn't really miss a beat. Suspicion, after all, often accompanies a false face- and sometimes even a true one. "I hadn't. Still, and I hope I'm judging correctly, you don't seem as though you'd be too inclined to steal my work from beneath my nose- and so I shall elaborate." After he's done eating a donut. Ina, internally, is incredibly aware that she's going to need to find somewhere cozy where she can have a food coma after this- but thankfully, Lanlan's castle isn't far. "I'm an author, that much I have alluded to, and is true- but I also dabble in the creation of items. Sometimes -willful- items. Though, I've never been able to produce anything that would display the sort of sentience that is detailed in this book." Here, Gilbert taps his pristine copy of 'Ensouled Steel'. "And whilst there's certainly something to be said for having a piece of metal that intrinsically hates denizens of the Underdark- the inability to -curb- that hatred does limit . . . Well." There's a truth to all of this, a bit closer than most get, though it's here it starts to branch into the fictitious, "After enough failures, and lawsuits tied to those failures, I felt it would be best to catalogue my efforts, and those of others. See if I might be able to learn something along the way. That, and potentially recoup some of my losses through some carefully curated, yet still sensationalized scribbles." ...Honestly, now that she's saying it in character- it sounds like a legitimately fun idea. She -could- probably start to make her own amendments to the battle cookbooks- and maybe one of her own in due time. Add in some great anecdotal elements of the food in action- and blam, best seller for the arcane collectors, and the curious onlooker in search of some pulpy entertainment. Yeah. This calls for carrot cake.

Khitti listened intently, studying Gilbert as he spoke. She stared at him, hard, and eventually just shrugged. “Fair enough. Seika is basically a holy fae, falling under Cyris’ domain. They choose those to wield the sword that are inherently good and follow the same sort of code as Cyris himself. You know, freedom, independence, all that. Kelovath Khasmin being chosen is pretty self-explanatory. You can’t get much more squeaky clean and pious than a paladin of Arkhen. Still sort of questioning why Seika chose me though, even long after ridding myself of the sword. That aside, while not everyone can wield Tenbatsu Kaji, it can be carried by anyone. Otherwise, I doubt they would have allowed a drow lich to handle it, let alone be secreted away to Trist’oth. Or allowed the dwarves to try to give it away as a prize. It might seem silly for a sword to allow these things to happen to it, but it’s basically a means to an end: to find a new wielder. If she doesn’t like you or you act up though, Seika’s loves to shock people. Literally, shock them. With their magic. Kind of obnoxious, really. Just another reason why it’s in Cenril’s harbour.”

Ina's own form of imbuement generally related to taking the essence of an existing creature, and more or less incorporating it into the material. While this had the obvious benefit of bestowing certain beneficial properties onto an item- it -did- lead to all sorts of anomalies, like cloaks that made the wielder as hungry as the sampled creature once was, or even instilling a vestige of the creature's will. Such as the phoenix metal that loved to sneak loose and burn things in the castle, or take potshots at her and Lanlan. Work in progress, indeed. "Now, that part's interesting to me, because the creation process detailed within the book didn't detail a binding or sacrifice of any sort. It -did-, however, mention an excess of prayer. And thus I feel the need to pose the question, Was Seika somethig that was drawn to that aura and -latched- onto the weapon, or, did the process somehow spontaneously form it? And in the latter case, was there a nascent period- where it might perchance have been influenced by the wielder, or its environs?" Here were the big academic questions- the things which likely kept scholars up at night, if they decided to think too long on the unintentional outcomes of certain arcane processes, or the manners in which certain bits of spellcraft evolved or deviated over time. "Still, that's peculiar. It -can- defend itself, but chooses to do so sparingly, and seems more likely to ...shock a wielder? I wonder if there's some form of, "Both Gilbert and Ina are at a loss for the word here, and there's an awkward roll of his wrist in the air, as though trying to beckon up the word, "A future sight? Predictiveness, in its choice of future owner- that it'd allow those occurrences." What a weird, weird mechanism. "When you were chosen, were there any notable occurrences beyond it's newfound love of shocking you? Anything that might dictate. . . ." Here Gilbert flips through his notepad, both in an effort to stall for time, and to try and search for the right word, "a bond? Either one way, or mutual? -Did- you influence it, or did it change, or was it static?" Important questions, all- and they helped to cover up the fact that Ina is basically beside herself with happiness now that she knows she just has a harbour to search.

Khitti || “As far as I’m aware, their spirit was imbued into the sword as it was made. The only thing like that that I know of is soul-binding. Which is… strange indeed for a sword blessed by the God of Freedom himself and never sat right with me. And it had to have been willing because I doubt it would have worked otherwise. It wasn’t something I really talked to Seika about. I have my own issues with soul binding, though in that case it was with people and not inanimate objects, and I didn't really want to bring it up.” Khitti shrugged and adjusted herself in her chair a little. “As for the shocking, Seika can be kind of petty sort at times. Wasn’t fond of my decision to not become a paladin of Cyris after specifically choosing me and all the training they put me through.” With his last set of questions, the redhead sat there for a bit, thinking things over. “Perhaps there is some sort of clairvoyance going on. They seemed to have communication with Cyris himself at times.” She sighed. “In the beginning, I couldn’t even understand Seika. It was nothing but static essentially. Not too long after, my dark magic was dampened considerably--to the point that I thought I’d lost it altogether. After that, I was able to actually hear Seika. I don’t know if there was an actual bond. I think it was maybe more like… I convinced myself there was a connection there. But, that doesn’t mean that there wasn’t an actual bond with someone like Kelovath. I’m just not “good” enough,” she said, smirking at the double meaning. “And I think maybe Seika just kept pushing me because they didn’t want to admit they chose poorly for once. Gods and their minions do make mistakes, I suppose. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have undead in Cenril currently.”

Ina drums their fingers against the table, offhandedly taking notes as an almost automatic expression, even as they not-so-thoughtfully shovel a coffee cake into their mouth, and then wash it down with a broccoli cheese soup. Honestly, even despite the overall quality of the food- it's a bit difficult to taste at times, if only because of how immersed she is, in her own thoughts. The book had gone over the process, true- but that part had been hazy. Whether the secrets were contained within code, magic, or somewhere else- well, it begged a lot of questions. "If she was free to make that choice- there wouldn't be a contradiction." ... "Mmm. Yes." Almost forgot. Maybe this was an early-onset food coma, or maybe information overload. But she couldn't stop eating. Method acting would prevail, ...as would some very minute bits of internal shapeshifting to help their stomach accommodate some lemon cookies. "Sounds like dreadful magic all the same. Soul anything. A fae though, really? Is Seika actually her name?" What was in a Fae's name, after all- That seemed almost like an avenue of investigation itself. The notes were a -proper- mess of scribbles and logical detours now, and a nightmare for anyone but Ina-As-Gilbert to parse. "I would think you'd be free to make mistakes as well, but I could be wrong." The pen he's been using is tapped against the notebook, a spurt of ink marring the corner of it, "-Was- there any changes with it over the course of your ownership, independent of the shift in -your- magical alignments, or was she rather...static as an entity?" Honestly, all of this was an academic gold mine, and frankly, she really ought to turn this into Lanlan while being Aya, so she could properly play the part of a good student. Use that to get some more independent lessons on weaving proper illusions, and not just those afforded to her by virtue of having a pair of fluffy tails. (Both of which are uncomfortably stuffed down pant legs, and help to give that whole, bulging against the seams of your clothes, look.

Khitti just shrugged again. “I honestly don’t know. Seika could just be a nickname or something. I’m sure you know how fae are with their names and all that. And you would think that I’d be allowed mistakes or to be my own person, but Cyris takes being a paladin very seriously. Seika was no different. Probably didn’t have to deal with that with Kelovath because he already was a paladin. And there were no changes with Seika or the sword. I don’t know how they were with anyone else that wielded the sword, but nothing changed throughout the duration. Seika was a hardass the whole time, with bits of understanding thrown around here and there to help placate me when I got frustrated.” Khitti looked towards the front door as a group of customers piled in. “I should probably get back to work. It tends to start getting busy this time of day.” She paused, her lips twisting into a frown as she returned her gaze to him. “Was there anything else?”

Ina notes the fresh influx of customers, alongside the fact that Khitti seems to have reached her threshold for the subject at hand- and decides now's a good a time as any to look into extricating themself from the situation. First and foremost, then, is the offer of a firm velvet bag containing a plethora of coins equal to and exceeding the value of the meal's cost, even including a hearty tip. It -was- everything the foxkin had made in the last few days- but frankly, money was only ever a few games of blackjack away. "Unless you might be able to point me in the direction of one of the other owners, or perhaps the swordsmith himself. My own investigations have afforded me nothing save 'Reclusive weirdo'. Which- certainly helps to add some mystique and flavour to a novel, but is less useful when focusing on the informative elements." Gilbert shuffles back, partially, then again- gradually wiggling to get the chair away from the table so he can stand without knocking anything over. "Also, if I could ask the aid of someone to pack the remains, I'd like the rest to go. Waste not, want not. What, what." Ina somehow can maintain a straight face through all this.

Khitti || “Redovian is dead, as far as I can tell. Kelovath might as well be considering I’ve not seen him in several years since I asked him to help me start up the Devout’s Guild. Held the first meeting one day and haven’t seen him since. For the time being, I’m the only one left. Until Seika chooses someone else anyway.” Khitti too stood and nodded as she snatched up the bag, “Vic can.” The redhead called for the head waitress, asked her to package things up properly and bring them back to Gilbert. While they waited, Khitti opened up the bag, reached in for a coin, put it in her mouth and bit down somewhat. Look, it could’ve been chocolate money wrapped in gold foil for all she knew. She really did not have much faith in or trust for rich folk. “If Kelovath does happen to show up, I’ll send him to find you somehow. Otherwise, I think that part of your book might have to be a little lacking.”

Ina takes a chocolate-filled scone from a plate before it can be packed and munches on it, even as she internally regrets the decision. Yeah- as much as she wants to go diving off Cenrils harbour in the form of a squid- she'd just end up floating around both cranky & comatose. Best to crash at home, maybe convince Lanlan that she'd caught a cold from overworking. And bribe him to stay nearby with baked goods. "Well, I appreciate your earnest contributions. For your assistance, is there anything specifically you'd like me to jot down in regard to your name or title? I always feel it's necessary to give proper credit." May as well play the character out to its logical conclusion. That detail aside, however- Ina-As-Gilbert begins to collect the packed food and bundle it up in front of themselves- albeit after making sure to stash their book back onto their person in their inner coat pocket. "And I suppose it cannot be helped if that segment ends up being a bit more fiction than fact- though it should prove entertaining enough, if local Propaganda, records and hearsay can be used to paint a picture. Mm. Yes." And with a nod, Gilbert turns to make their way towards the door- content with everything they'd learned.

Khitti thought for a moment, tapping her index finger on her chin. “Just put down a warning: Don’t trust talking swords.” She took a few steps back, allowing Gilbert to pass by with all of his edible loot. He’d nod and make his way out of course, and Khitti was just left to stare as he hauled all that food away. “If I wasn’t already in the business of being part of weird situations nearly, I’d probably label that as one,” she said off-handedly to Victoria. But, she eventually just shook her head and went back to work.