Searching for the Magic Information-Crimson Please

[Treant]

Kalendryas, in the Season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum.

Treant carried a bag on his shoulders secured to his back. The theif/gadgeteer/chemist needed to find some help, more or less someone that new magic. So Treant figured he would start with the aediles. The pretty lioness seemed to take a strong lusting for Treant.

He walked down the Jaedaxian main road wearing his sun blocker outters, his belt and his boots. He had become accustomed to making a "name" for himself wether it was out of mischeif, danger, stupidity or just shere craziness. The only way to create a name for his inventions was to wear them at all times. He entered the Aediles office and walked up to the mousia, such a srange creature, "Serale, I am here to inquire about some knowledge, perhaps the Lady Aedile is in?"treant said smiling at the amusing creature.

"I need to find information about someone skilled in arcane, I need some information not formal training, and I heard the school dissapeared some time back but would there be anyone in the town that you know of?"Treant asked

OOC: This is a discovery thread about loot stolen from Cburg. See my SOF

[Amaranth]

The mousai twitched its nose as it looked at the gnome with ill-concealed mistrust. "Oui, the Aedile is in," he squeaked, sneaking a glance towards the white tigroness sitting at her desk. He didn't dare draw too close to her, though... he wasn't suicidal after all. "Arcana? No, no, I know nothing of arcana." Though the ban on magic in the Gift of the Empire had been lifted, it was still a recent occurrence... in some corners of the city, talk of arcana was still viewed as a dangerous subject and the mousai had never been a very brave soul to begin with. Old habits do indeed die hard. "You will have to talk with her." Without saying another word, the mousai scampered off, his nose twitching with his irritation as he moved away from Treant without a backward glance.

The Aedile, however, with her acute hearing, already knew of the gnome's plight as he finally approached her desk. Eyes glowing, the tigroness leaned forward, her voice purring softly from her lips as she regarded the other curiously. "You are looking for someone skilled in arcana, mon cher? ... Any particular reason why?" The smile she flashed him was wicked in its friendliness, though there was a definite edge to her voice.

She wasn't giving him any information if he didn't return the favor.

[Treant]

ooc: there is history between the aedile and treant see trying to steal a house to see what I mean

IC:

Treant eyed the mousai oddly as normal...such a strange creature.

"Ah my love,"treant said bowing. "Such a long time since I gazed upon your beautiful face..."he said rising. "Vell I need to find out information, I personalyl hate the dreaded science but information is vhat I seek can you point me in the direction of someone with at least knowledge about the subject?"the gnome asked eye flirting with the aedile.

[Amaranth]

The tigroness tried to hide her distaste at seeing her little friend from autumn so soon again (soon in this instance being again at all). She hadn't thought she would have to see him for a while -- surely clearing out the slums would have kept him busy? Or at least out of her hair... biting back her growl of exasperation as he called her my love, the Aedile resisted the urge to floss her teeth with the little gnome. "Of course," she purred, eyes flashing as she regarded her own personal admirer. "I know everyone worth knowing in this city."

Her sleek tail flicking back and forth, the Aedile leaned back slightly in her chair. "I think I know of someone who might be of interest to you..." Usually the tigroness would have drawn out the meeting for as long as possible, pumping the other for more information before giving her own. But she didn't want to have to spend any more time with the gnome than was necessary.

"You will find him at the tavern, La Petite Couronne... he is always there at this time of the brightening. But you may want to hurry... he might be leaving soon." A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

[Treant]

"Certainly, " the gnome said blushing as the tail whipped around graciously. "I will be on my way at once if I might have his name?"the gnome said smiling. "indeed I know where that tavern is."treant said smiling he gently laid his hand on her desk stroking his hand softly on the desk as to say...'come here pretty lady'.

Treant stopped his stroking and paused waiting for the reply. He would leave at once, as soon as the name was spoken. As the gnome would leave he would bow polielty and walk backwards to the door while blowing the aedile a kiss.

[Amaranth]

As the gnome stroked at her desk, the Aedile leaned farther back in her seat, a soft sound rumbling from her throat that could have been interpreted as a purr by one not very familiar with the Katta kind. "Oh, you will know him when you see him," she said with a toothy grin, her tail flicking back and forth behind her desk. "But if you must know, his name is Monsieur Rousseau." With a soft wave of her white paw, the tigroness dismissed the gnome along with one last purring call. "Good luck, mon cher."

From Le Bureau de Propriété, it was a relatively short walk to La Petite Couronne which was located in the town square.

The large three-story inn was newly built of used red brick with accents of highly polished oak and ornate iron fretwork heavily painted over in glossy gold paint, and with a suitable flourish of brightly colored banners and flags on the side facing the town square. A large stable, capable of housing a large number of horses could be found at the back of the inn after following a broad alleyway to the right of the main entrance. The main entry to the tavern was a great, thick heavily polished oaken door flanked by two large gentlemen dressed in white shirts, black ascots and top hats, gray morning coats and matching trousers (with heavy blackjacks concealed in an inner pocket).

Once inside the accents of highly polished oak and gilt fretwork were continued with the addition of lush thick-pile carpeting. In mimicry of The Crown Tavern of Prime, there is a large, oak (rather than mahogany) desk sitting in front of the southern wall, flanked by two matching bookcases that are, quite literally, stuffed full of books and parchment registers (most blank, but filling rapidly). A matching polished oak handrail trails the stairway to the right, ascending to the above floors. Behind the desk, on the wall, is a large corkboard with tiny brass nails set into it at regular intervals, sporadically hung keys dot the board – each with its own wooden tag seared with a room number.

A leather bound register sits atop the desk, open to a page scrawled full of signatures. Hovering just behind the desk, if he isn’t off appreciating the women that frequent the Crown, stands Bardi, average of height, thinning of dirty blonde hair and a bit stout. Bardi is outgoing and friendly in a used carriage salesman sort of way. Quill in one calloused hand he offers in a stilted accent, noticeably more posh-sounding than the accent he unleashes at his staff when provoked to anger, ‘Serale and welcome to La Petite.’ He points the brass tipped quill at a small wooden sign that reads, ‘Bardi Stealthen, Purveyor of Fine Food, Fine Lodgings and Fine Entertainment’

A gigantic archway to the left leads to the huge, smoky, loud common room of the Tavern. Before getting far though, a tall man in livery, similar to that of the two men outside the entrance, blocks the way, guarding a wooden locker, with a very heavy, very official looking lock. A large key dangles from a thin leather cord tied at his waist. He makes a gesture, indicating that all weapons must be left in the locker before entrance is granted.

Once inside, a gaggle of gorgeous waitresses in attractive attire, of a somewhat revealing nature, can be seen over the heads of the seated patrons. These local beauties, while not as educated or as exotic as those of La Petite Morte, can nonetheless be especially friendly (for the right price), and a quick tip to the bartender. A long bar top runs the entire length of the back wall, and at least one bartender is currently present. Alluring smells, of a nature familiar to those customers who have visited the Crown Tavern in Prime, waft from that direction; the kitchens are situated in the back of the inn, behind the bar. Empty seats can be noted as eyes adjust to the many gathered people, and making a path to one shouldn't be too much of a problem. All around the sounds of clinking tankards, glasses, plates and cutlery can be heard, as well as the merry but incomprehensible banter of the gathered people. The entire room is lit brightly from several gilt-and-glass chandeliers holding a number of candles. All except, that is, the various strategically placed dark corners of the room.

Indeed, the Aedile had been right for no sooner had Treant entered the common room of The Little Crown but that he spotted the man that could be none other than his Monsieur Rousseau... Monsieur Amadour Rousseau to be exact. Dressed in a robe of flaming orange (that clashed horribly with his neatly managed red hair), Rousseau was at that moment in time standing upon the bar of the tavern and gesturing wildly with his thin arms while the other patrons either looked upon him with pity or ill-concealed disdain. He seemed to be in the middle of a lengthy explanation about some rare phenomenon he had witnessed... a phenomenon the others in the tavern clearly did not believe happened. But Rousseau was not easily discouraged. "I saw it with my own two eyes! A building materialized out of thin air! It was extraordinary!"

"Get down, Rousseau!" Another man from the corner of the room called, throwing a balled piece of parchment in the direction of the other. They both seemed of a same age -- around 25 ordinations -- and indeed, they had actually attended classes together at the collegio. Unfortunately for Rousseau, a man closer to him decided to throw something a little... wetter. The patrons of The Little Crown erupted into hearty chuckles and giggling titters as a large mug of ale splashed across the red-haired man's front. The smile on his face immediately dissolved along with what was left of his dignity as he finally slipped down from the bar, his hands brushing in vain against the large wet spot blooming across his orange robes.

[Treant]

"What did the aedile refer me to?"treant thought walking into the bar. Upon seeing the shere actions of the patrons around treant was .....skeptical of this "source"

Treant laughed as the red haired crazed man was splashed in ale. If treant didnt need his help he would have thrown something else with the other patroons. Treant had learned the enjoyment of others misery.

"Roussaeau?" Treant asked trying not to smirk at the madman. If treant didnt know any better he would have thought he might be a gadgeteer with his flamboyant colors. Howver gadgeteers would never wear a robe!

"Are you Roussaeau,?"treant asked knowing he was the one. "The aedile sent me to you for information, she said you would be able to help me, but from the looks of it I think you might need my help?"treant chuckled

[Amaranth]

"Yes?" Amadour asked as he heard his name spoken, his face brightening somewhat as he glanced up from his dampened robes... only to find that there was no one around him that was obviously speaking to him. Brow furrowing, the young man returned his attention southwards to continue fretting over his wet garment when his blue eyes landed upon the gnome. "Ah! There you are! Oui, I am Rousseau. Amadour Rousseau -- writer, actor, and expert on anything strange or questionable!" As the man introduced himself, he bent sharply at his waist in a low bow, his hand fluttering in front of his body in an exaggerated flourish. "And who might you be?"

The news that the Jaedaxian Aedile had sent the little gnome after him was met with a wide grin that immediately cracked across Amadour's face. "Francine? Oh... oh... darling Francine... one can only compare her eyes to stars and her coat... well, her coat to... the softest of clouds!" Giving a dramatic swoon, the young red-haired man fell into one of the stools lined up against the bar. "Information do you say? Well I am full of information and knowledge on any subject that could possibly ever be of interest to you." Lowering his voice, Amadour leaned towards the other, as though he wished to impart a great secret to the gnome. "My mother is very proud of me."

Without warning, the young man suddenly leapt up from his seat, his lanky limbs suddenly seeming too long for his body as he tried to regain his balance (having leapt a little too far to the right). "Ah, oui... bienvenue a mon vie. Welcome to my life, my friend. I am surrounded by the ignorant." As though to illustrate his statement, another patron threw a roll at the back of poor Rousseau's head... just in case he hadn't gotten the message the first go around.

[Treant]

Treants eyes just rolled as the crazy mad man continued his performance. Clearly his audience enjoyed the act as the flying rolls were to prove it.

Treant shook his head this man was crazier then he was!

"Yes she is,"treant commented back about the aedile. "Yes she mus be very proud of you but for the time being I need information about......" "Arcane"treant whispered.

Treant doubted the man would have any knowledge about what treant had only a mage or someone unbound would be able to help.

"Ok let me just put it simple."treant said regiaing his posture. "I have treasures that need to be evaluated, explained, and figured out. If you can do this then you are useful to me but if you can not you surely must know of someone that can."the gnome said crossing his arms abd tapping the floor with his feet.

Treant readjusted the bag on his shoulder.

[Amaranth]

Amadour's eyes widened as he leaned in closer to hear what the gnome was saying over the rumble of activity within the tavern. "Arcana?!" He shouted, drawing more than a few stares. Bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of studying magical treasures, the young man suddenly swooped down and snatched up Treant as though he was little more than a sack of potatoes. "What are we waiting around here for? To the lair!" And without another word, Amadour was jogging out of The Little Crown and out into the icy streets of Jaedaxia, Treant slung over his shoulder. His bright orange robes cracked around his legs as he ran, but other than that, their journey was spent mainly in silence... unless Treant put up a fuss at being jostled around like baggage, of course.

Amadour kept up his brisk pace all the way until they reached Le Rue Felix. People crowded the streets even in the chill weather of the season and it took a fair bit of maneuvering to keep from being turned around in the masses. There was a flavor to the Bohemian district, a liveliness that seemed to embody everything the port city was -- a merging of ideas into a singular culture that was unique to Jaedaxia and Jaedaxia alone. Students, foreigners, and of course, Bohemians, could all be found within Le Rue Felix. It was also where Amadour Rousseau called home.

Making for a rather drab looking townhouse (drab in comparison to the brightly painted ones around it), Amadour quickly jogged up the steps before dashing through the door. The townhouse sat two floors high with the bottom floor being occupied by a rather mysterious man who simply went by Jean-Francois while the upper floor was Amadour's "lair." "Bonjour, Jean-Francois!" Amadour shouted towards a closed door before hurrying up a rickety staircase positioned along the far wall. He would only finally lower Treant to the floor once they had reached his humble abode. "Welcome to paradise," Amadour murmured as he flung open his door (after wrestling with it for a few moments, for alas, it had a tendency to stick) to reveal a room splashed in clashing colors that rather reflected his obvious lack of style. Blue walls striped with orange met with rugs of purple, crimson, and a throbbing yellow that would surely dull one's vision if they stared at it long enough. Sagging couches seemed to melt downwards from years of use and abuse while tables chipped and scratched were scattered here and there. Parchment, both blank and written upon, peppered the floor and any flat surface really, marked up with notes on various subjects, or a literary work of Amadour's that he had yet to finish.

But it was towards a bare door at the back of the room that the young man walked, maneuvering carefully through his junk as he did so. Pulling a key from a chain beneath his orange robes, Amadour unlocked the door and opened it to reveal a closet filled to the brim with books. Dusty tomes with broken spines or ripping covers seemed to be the norm, though there was the occasional leather-bound journal thrown into the fray. "When Monsieur Moonstar outlawed magic in our fair city..." Amadour began, his voice sad as he caressed his fingers down the spine of a particularly battered book. "People like myself had to go into hiding... or at least forget a part of themselves... I was training in Mysticism, you see, before the ban... I am only an initiate... but maybe now with the ban lifted, I can continue my studies." Turning from his open closet, Amadour suddenly reached into his robes and pulled out a pair of spectacles. They were huge in size and when he placed them upon his face, they enlarged his eyes to the point that he resembled an odd bug-like creature... or a complete doofus. "Now, where are these treasures?"

[Treant]

As Treant was slung over the crazied boys sholder Treant went to grab for his dagger. He was about to stab this man right in the head. And then he stopped. This was so disgraceful. A gnome being carried.

"PUT ME DOWN!!!"Treant yelled kicking and wailing his limbs as he was rushed out the bar.

"ILL KILL YOU!"the gnome yelled being rushed through the streets. It was such a disgraceful sight to be seen carried.

With no choice at all Treant was carried up into the townhouse.

"I dont care you went into hiding or that you are sad you STUPID BIG NOB! DONT YOU EVER PICK ME UP AGAIN!"treant yelled ready to pull his dagger out and kill the boy.

Treant composed himself again.

"Here it is...."treant said calmly pulling off his bag from his shoulder. The bag contained numerous items, maps, scrolls, foggy glass like orbs..."I have no idea what these scrolls say, where these maps lead to or what these thingys are?"treant said playing with one in his hand.

"What do you think?"

[Amaranth]

"Ooo," Amadour cooed in excitement as he snatched at the offered bag, taking the loot with all the fascination of a young child who had just been given a puzzle that was a little out of their mental capacity to solve. Carrying it to a nearby table, he shoved some of his own stuff out of the way to make room for Treant's. It was going to be a long brightening. "Let's see here..." the young man trailed off as he bent close over one of the scrolls, his fingers trembling slightly as they caressed along the strange words. "Yes... these are definitely written in some foreign language... or perhaps a code..." Amadour mused quietly beneath his breath as he continued to study it.

However, the scroll couldn't hold his full attention for long. Next he moved on to the maps. They were strange, detailing places he had never heard of before. Completely engrossed, the young man studied the maps diligently for what would seem like an eternity to the gnome before finally exclaiming. "These maps detail no place within the Empire that I've ever heard of... and believe me, I've heard quite a bit. But just maybe..." Whatever Amadour was going to say was lost to Treant as the other's eyes finally fell upon the foggy orbs. Amadour's eyes became as round as saucers as he reached for the nearest one, bringing it close to his face as he peered within.

"Ooo I think I see something!... no wait, that's just me. Hmm..." Turning the orb every which way, Amadour ran his fingers along the smooth surface of the glass, his nose so close to the orb that it almost brushed up against it. "What secrets do you hold?" Amadour whispered softly to the little orb before pausing dramatically, as though waiting for it to whisper back. Whether or not the orb was going to attempt speech was lost to the pair, though, as poor Amadour lost his grip on the glass ball. He watched in horror and dismay as it rolled from his fingers before crashing to the floor at his feet. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" Even as he scrambled to clean up the broken glass, a sparkling powder began to rise like a cloud from the remains of the foggy orb, moving like the arms of a lover as it completely enveloped both Amadour and Treant. "What... what's going on?" Amadour exclaimed before suddenly falling silently as the room seemed to pitch forward, sending both the young man and the gnome sprawling.