Private Tales Ransacked

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Naser

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Dreadlords
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Aniria - Licania

"Wow." Nas said as they crested the small hill just outside of Licania. "It's even more boring than I thought it would be."

The small town, if it could even be called a town, was situated just forty miles south of Vel Anir. Licania was nothing special when compared to a dozen other cities. Like most Anirian settlements it had a stone wall, a dozen taverns which doubled as Inns, and an imposing Keep, as well as various others small businesses and enterprises. But it also one very special thing; The Office of Minister Erwin Desombre.

Only long dead Kress knew why the Minister had chosen to put his Office here instead of in any number of towns which were closer to the capital and more developed, but for the purposes of the two Initiates it did not matter.

Erwin Desombre had been robbed, and the good minister simply did not trust the Vestigare to do their jobs properly. Why? Likely due to his heritage. Desombre had been born in an age where Dreadlord's had served his family.

Thus, through political nepotism and general whining the good Minister had complained enough that Dreadlords were to be set to the task. Trouble was? The Guard did not wish spare any actual Dreadlords. So perhaps as a form of joke, had instead sent two Initiates. A pair who were argually less well equipped to handle the investigation.

Though at least one of them had a history in stealing things. "The idiot probably just forgot to lock his door."

Nas commented, more than a little bile in his tone as they rode down and into the city. The two Guardsmen standing at the gate not even bothering to stop them.
 
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Not all missions were born equal.

Of course, every assignment was a chance to set one's self apart from the rest of the pack, but there was something about this one that seemed particularly spiteful. It wasn't just the fact that it was a poxy investigation into a robbery in a nothing town; no, it was the pairing, too.

Initiate Naser.


The poster boy of the Gutters, whose precognitive abilities gave him an air of arrogance tempered by an outwards aura of boredom. By all means, he wasn't incapable. They'd run missions before; she'd swallowed shit before his very eyes, and he was useful. However, his usefulness was far outweighed by a dismissive demeanour, a lack of respect for the rules and authority, and, most of all, his sheer fucking arrogance.

Marcia had pondered in her silent seethe on the ride out to Licania if she had been paired with him in the hope that her more diligent nature would rub off on him. Maybe. Just as likely, it could have been punishment for one of her numerous altercations with their peers, which were only ramping up as they edged closer to graduation.

Apparently, Initiate Bochum's nose was still whistling every time she breathed through it.

Good.

As the pair entered the nothing town, Naser made another wry remark that summoned a withering eye roll from the girl. "Yes, everything is boring and everybody but you is an idiot," she replied with a tone that didn't even bother to hide the rampant sarcasm.

To be fair, a lot of people were idiots.

"I assume you're speaking from experience, then?"
 
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"Limont's fault." Naser answered without offering to elaborate any further. There was a job to do, and he knew that Marcia would want to do it as quickly as possible.

Something he would rather not co-operate with.

There was something to be said about the girl's diligence. It was commendable really. But she didn't understand how boring the Academy was. The unending routine was utter torture when you saw it twice, sometimes even more than that.

A moment of forgetting to control himself and he could see Proctor Seila speak forty seven times. An utter nightmare that even Marcia wouldn't want to endure. So what if he stalled things just a little bit. "Whatever."

He dismissed her unhelpfully. No use changing tact now, she would sniff him out.

"Mind if we stop before we head to the Marshall?" They had one out here, for whatever reason. "I want to get something to eat."

It was a believable delay. He was hungry, and they hadn't eaten since they'd left the Academy. Plus, it was hardly like there was evidence waiting. The man's office had been rummaged through half a dozen times now. His sight couldn't be much help there. "It'd be better than the shit they serve us back home."

He tried to convince her.
 
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Almost believable. Limont was an absolute wastrel of a boy whose sheer sleaziness made Naser seem demure and mindful in comparison. Almost. She had no notion that Naser wasn't one to be led astray; he was perfectly capable of doing that himself.

"I do mind, actually," she returned, shaking her head in irritated disbelief at the other Initiate's priorities. "Do you think you'll be able to stop for a snack on active duty? That our enemies would say, 'Aw, but he's so hungy, let's give him a break'?"

It's not like she had eaten since their departure, either.

Were he productive, the boy might have taken it as additional training. Tempering the body beyond the means of combat to survive whatever situation was thrust upon them. She'd have thought somebody from his background would have been accustomed to hunger by now, but that seemed more like a Larrainth sort of slight.

"Get your priorities in order, Naser," she followed up with a scoff. "We report to the Marshall first, then we can eat."

Her head turned to stare him down, her eyes challenging him. "You can manage that, yes? You won't faint?"
 
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Hah. He had won that argument.

Naser had been worried she would insist on following whatever vagrant had broken into the Minister's office that very night. Now he could at least beg her off until after a meal.

At least that was the lie he told himself as the two of them passed into the main gate of the Estate. It was a small tucked away manor, but with walls high enough to keep out those undetermined. A frown pulled at his lips at the detail, head shaking as they pulled themselves off their mounts. "Tell you what Marci."

Oh, he'd been talking too Norah too much. Her ideas were getting in his head.

"Got a wager for you." He ignored her question entirely, ego a tad bruised. "As along as you're nice to me, I try my best to solve this thing."

The 'Robber ensured he had a good idea for what wasn't to be left behind. Nas was pretty sure he could walk the same path in reverse. Probably wouldn't be all that hard. Besides, he'd never actually have to do it with how thin of a wire Marcia held.
 
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Marcia scoffed, shooting Naser the most incredulous look as she tied up her mount. The fact that he wouldn't be trying his best was the greatest affront. Her jaw clenched, teeth biting down on the rising anger that she managed to bring back down to frustration.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she returned, walking up to the other Initiate as if they stood at the same height and pointing an accusatory finger at his chest. "You should be trying your best regardless."

The absolute audacity of him! The nerve! The fucking gall!

"Naser, you might be content to coast by on the bare minimum, but you will not bring me down with you." The girl hissed at him. "You will try, or I will knock seven shades of shit out of you."

The accusatory finger moved to jab him in the chest.

"And you won't see it coming."
 
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Ugh. He knew it. "You're no fun at all."

Hand quickly rubbing at where she'd prodded. His lips curling into a sneer behind his mask. Why was she so goddamn intolerable? She could have thrown him a bone, make his life even the slightest bit easier. It was like she'd rather be strangling puppies for fun.

His hand waved her off.

"Yeah, yeah." He took a few step backwards, muttering to himself as he kicked a bit of the snow on the ground. Frowning and trodding up to the manor door. A man already stood with it half open, his dress marking him as one of the Minister's servants.

"Ah." He said as Naser approached. "We have been waiting for you, the office remains untouched. Please, come this way."

Nas looked back, lingering just enough so that Marcia didn't have room to complain. Once they were together they were quickly ushered to the third floor of the building, brought to an office decorated richly with woods from all over the world. There was no sign of anything gild of false.

A quick look told him that no Ministers office should look like this. "Pretty clean still."

He noted absently, meaning no one had ransacked the place.
 
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She assumed a better demeanour at the sight of the Minister's servant, and by better demeanour, she wasn't actively scowling.

"Thanks."

When they reached the office, Marcia moved to the centre, arms folded across her chest as her neck craned to give the room a visual once over. She was loath to admit it, but this sort of investigation was beyond her. The girl couldn't relate to the criminal mind, not having much of a clue on what to touch upon first, bar what was taken.

Really, it was a surprise they didn't have Naser and Norah on this one. Then again, that pair probably would have left the office even lighter in their wake.

Probably wouldn't have even fucking bothered solving it, either.

"Right, you're expert here," she said, her face scrunching with disdain as she deferred to Naser's wisdom approximately two minutes after chewing him the fuck out. "What are we looking for here?"
 
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Briefly he considered telling her to fuck off, but he figured that would cause an argument. Right now he didn't want to waste time in an argument. If there was something to see in here, he wanted to see it before the Marshall arrived. "We're looking for whats not here."

Naser said vaguely as his eyes went white.

Playing his eyes over drawers and windows, frowning for a few seconds as he watched his own movements just a second ahead.

"I stole from places as a kid." He admitted quite freely, not touching anything but watching himself find what he was looking for. Snapping a smile as he found exactly what was already missing, what had been taking. "It was kind of a co-"

"Ah. Found your way in, have ya?" A deep voice suddenly called out.

Marhsall Kendrick was something of a large man. Bulky, Naser would say, in the sort of way that one wondered if they could snap bone. His moustache grew large over his face, curling like a cat on the edge of a heater. "Good."

In his hand were three stacks of parchment. "Got some statements from the witnesses. Wasn't exactly smooth gettin' out."

He said, offering the paper to Marcia.
 
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As much as Marcia was a fan of authority figures, the Marshall's entrance interrupted Naser's cooperative insight before it had even begun, causing the girl's nose to twitch as she reigned in a reactive scowl. The boy would probably be less amenable to divulging trade secrets in front of the man.

"Yes, Marshall," she replied, heels together and back straight, even if Naser was probably lounging around in the back, looking like he was the culprit. "We got here as soon as we could."

She took the witness statements and frowned, eyes skimming over them to try and find a common thread. There were a lot of unnecessary details, but a couple of things stood out to the Initiate, which were repeated across separate statements.

A man with a missing left ear and a dark green scarf that covered the lower half his face.

"I assume this man isn't local, then?" Marcia asked Marshall Kendrick, holding the statement to the side for Naser to look at. "He sounds like he'd stand out."

"Not one of our local characters, I'm 'fraid," he replied, his moustache bristling as he spoke.

"And do any of your local characters know him?"

The Marshall snorted, tossing his head back as if Marcia had asked a stupid question, which made the girl bristle somewhat. "Well, young lady, that'll be your job to find out. Might'n I suggest givin' The Windy Fox a visit after you're finished up here."
 
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As the Marshall arrived, Nas couldn't help but tense up.

He never did like them. Not on any mission. In Vel Anir Marshall's had more power than most City Governor's. They could order arrests, executions, even take your House if it was suspected in a crime. They were almost always men who had served the Guard for a dozen years or more, but that sort of loyalty didn't matter to Nas.

All he saw was someone who could put him in Harrowgate. "Local watering hole?"

Naser asked, trying to seem as though he didn't care.

"Yessiree." The Marshall answered, glancing over towards Nas. His eyes flickering up and down, lips curling into a slight frown. "Anyway, feel free to have a look around, I'm going to be down in the Kitchens questioning the witnesses some more."

He chuckled at his own joke, but was apparently content to leave the Initiate's to their work. Perhaps pleased that this was off his plate.

"Paragon of the Guard." Nas said flatly as he reached out and pulled open the drawer which he knew lay empty, it's contents spilled on the floor. Hand reaching out for a moment to fiddle around before a click echoed out.
 
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Marcia, ever holding the eye for somebody shirking their duties, had the distinct feeling that the Marshall would not be holding further questioning unless his idea of questioning with raiding the pantry. However, as it were, he was a source of authority and not a peer, so her only response came in a disgusted scoff once the man left the room.

She might have been inclined to agree with Naser if she had not found him equally distasteful.

"What were you saying befor-"


Click.

From the rich mahogany display cabinet at the side of the room came the sound of gears turning, the centre console pivoting on a hidden turntable and revealing a secret compartment. One of Marcia's dark brows quirked before her head snapped back in Naser's direction, any respect she might have had for his intuition and experience being displayed at frustration.

"How... how the fuck did you know that was there?"
 
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A shrug rolled over Nas' shoulders. "Like I said."

Eyes flickered down from Marcia as he looked into the secret compartment, lips thinning as he found a small black notebook inside.

"I used to steal things." With tentative touch, Nas picked up the notebook and cracked it open. "A gang I was with before I was at the Academy trained me to do it."

He explained, flicking through the pages. "Used to sneak into places like this."

His lips quirked in a frown as he peered through the notebooks, dozens of names and numbers appearing besides one another. Eyes flickered up and down, though it did not tell him long to realize that every person listed likely owed the written sum.

Most of the names brought nothing to him, but one seemed familiar; Ezekiel Aberron.

The frown on his lips turned to a scowl.

He knew that name, though he did not remember from where. Something to do with the 'Robber' he was almost sure of it. "Looks like he was collecting debts."

Nas commented, trying to keep his tone neutral.
 
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A gang.

Marcia's frown turned thoughtful as she tried to weigh up the worth of Naser's experiences before the Academy. The girl could admit that she had a limited scope of life experience compared to the Initiates that came later in life; she never knew what it was like to exist in the outside world without a strict direction or goal.

Instinctively, the Anirian doctrine within her disapproved of criminal activity, seeing it as something that harmed their nation from within, tantamount to treachery, really. However, she couldn't deny that whatever underworld existence this boy had before becoming an Initiate was beneficial, providing him with practical skills and knowledge that perfectly suited him to combat his former life.

"Truly a paragon of virtue," Marcia ultimately muttered with a particular note of disdain lingering in her voice, any appreciation of Naser's talents masked.

"That can't have made him popular," she said, quickly moving on to the matter at hand as she stood before him, arms folded across her chest. "Any names or amounts that stand out?" She barely gave her peer time to answer before plotting the next step. "We'll take the notebook with us, call it a list of suspects for the time being and see if The Windy Fox bears any fruit."

And they could eat, but that went without saying. She marched off in her usual abrupt manner before pausing in the doorway for a second.

"Unless, of course, you have any useful input?"
 
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Nas wanted top offer any number of wonderful expletives, but he knew doing so into the brick wall that was Marcia wouldn’t do him much good.

"There's a good amount of folk in there who'd want him dead." Nas said as he closed the notebook. He had little doubt that more than a few names listed in there would kill the man simply for how much they owed.

"My guess is someone hired someone." There was no denying that truth. He still had to steer things a little here, but Marcia was sharp. Being completely honest would just lead to her calling him out. "Probably one of the debtors, man was told to search for the book but didn't find it."

Nas shrugged his shoulders as they headed out the door. "Surprised Marshall didn't put that together."]

The sly brag felt good sliding across his tongue.

Not that it mattered any or solved the case, but still. Naser smiled as the two Initiate's began to make their way out the door once again, quickly stepping through the Estate and heading towards the tavern where they could share their meal.

One the way Naser continued his thoughts. "There's a guy on the list, Ulrich Vanden. He owes three hundred Anirian Crowns."

A sum Nas couldn't even imagine actually seeing.
 
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"I'm not," Marcia replied dryly as they left the estate, her confidence in the Marshall severely dented after meeting the man. Evidently, he had grown comfortable in his position. Complacent. Needless to say, it was a matter worth reporting when they returned.

While they walked through the streets, the girl couldn't help but feel a natural sense of paranoia creep in, the people of Licania who passed them on the receiving end of the short Initiate's scrutinising stare.

"Three hundred crowns?" Marcia repeated, pulling a face that highlighted her disdain before the urge to announce said disdain became too powerful. "It's idiotic enough to fall into debt in the first place," seethed the financially sheltered Academy Initiate, "but three hundred crowns?"

She glanced at Naser, head tilting upwards slightly to try and meet his gaze.

"So, the strategy at the tavern," Marcia began, seemingly moving the thought of them having a meal to the background. "Divide and conquer, I think. I'll talk to the more upscale patrons, and you deal with the..." the girl's eyes flicked down his form before returning to his face, "..less-than-savoury clientele."

That sounded agreeable, at least to her.

"We should ask about this Ulrich Vande and also the one-eared man from the witness statements."
 
"Gambling, probably." That was what it usually turned out to be. The 'Robber didn't do collections or anything of that sort, least he hadn't when Nas had been around, but he was familiar enough with the racket.

Bored nobles often liked the Gamble in the Gutter Dens, those places where not even the lowest of the low wanted to be seen.

Apparently it was some kind of thrill for them.

When Marcia offered up her plan for the tavern Nas couldn't help but feel the misery pique up it's head once more. Lips pressing to a thin line. It would probably work, in fact, with Marcia asking the questions it was even likely. "I-uhh. I think we should have our meal first."

He offered, but didn't let Marcia immediately deny him before he spoke his reasoning.

"If we come in there as Dreadlords or Guardsmen or whatever the fuck everyone and anyone is going to get their hackles up." He spoke quickly, not wanting the ferocious gremlin to shut him down before he could make his argument properly. "Anyone who knows shit will clam up, and anyone who knows more than shit will head out the back door."

Plus, he was really hungry. "It might be better to go a bit more...subtle with the questioning?"

He said, hopefully.
 
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Gambling. Even the word itself caused the girl to sneer, her uninvited experience of Initiate poker night leaving a sour taste in Marcia's mouth. What a foolish manner in which to empty one's pockets.

Naser had anticipated (as he was wont to do) her objection to his desire for a hot meal before pursuing a lead, denying her a chance to retort without flat-out interrupting him. So she was left glowering as he ran through all the problems with her provisional plan for questioning the locals.

Worse still, he might have been right.

Her jaw had shifted, jutting forth as the Initiate was forced to consider his suggestions in the following wake of silence. Of course, the Academy taught the art of interrogation and the girl felt more than well-equipped to get information out of those unwilling to give it, but it wasn't exactly subtle. Which only meant that, much to her chagrin, that Naser had a point.

"Fine, then I'll follow your lead,"
she managed to say without imploding, a miracle in itself. "Don't fuck it up."

The small down didn't offer much in the way of distance between their destination, the Windy Fox appearing in the horizon of the quiet loose gravel street. Marcia's eyes, in colusion with her stomach, worked to betray her as the sight of the wooden sign dancing in the breeze caused her stomach to audibly rumble.

"I suppose I did say we could eat after we had seen the Marshall..."
she muttered, mortified that even her own body was calling her out.
 
Thank Kress and all the other Gods. Those that had abandoned this world and still let their influence remain.

Relief flooded him as Marcia offered her conceit. The elation he felt in that moment was enough for him to have kissed her, but he didn't want to steal Kael's thunder. Either way, he was glad she wasn't going to starve them. "Great!"

Nas declared, for once allowing some enthusiasm to touch his tone as they continue don.

The Fox wasn't anything fancy when it came to taverns. Better than anything that could be found in the Gutter, that was for sure.

Most of the folk within were commoners. Dressed in simple peasant clothes. However a few tables contained what Nas thought might have been a few merchants. Another a pair of guardsmen who'd retired for the day, and the last a man who shifted about in a cloak.

As they stepped inside, the Innkeeper called. "Ho, young masters, can I help ye?"

The man asked, and Nas immediately spoke up.

"Just a table and a meal for the both of us." The Initiate said and seconds later found himself sitting at a table in the corner of the room. Leaning slightly against the wall as he motioned for Marcia to come closer.

"The Merchants won't matter." He said softly. "They're transient, only here for a few nights and will have missed everything. The Guard and those workmen."

Nas nudged his head towards the clutching of laborers. "They might have something."
 
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