The moment Braviary's decrepit body hit the mattress he surrendered himself to the abyss. It was here where his troubles boiled away, lost beneath the sea of the unconscious. When he was at his most alone, even with no roof to call his own, this place would always welcome him. He cannot stay for long, Braviary wouldn't want to be lost here forever. Once the moment passes the waves will eventually wash his body up on the proverbial beach, morning sun burning his eyes, his hollow bones aching. These short moments of peace have become all he lives for. There are no dreams here, just inked-out memories.
Something bloated rises up from beneath the sea. It's huge, unlike a dream he's ever had before. The waves part, and this foreign thought enters his mind.
The boy, who is he?
He has no form here, no beak to run off. Impulses seem to ferment in his mind until they form into thoughts of his own. A minute takes an eternity to pass, then he finally squeezes out an answer. Whatever it was, it's lost in this Thought's ambivalent mockery.
You don't know? You meet someone clearly involved with a guild, you express your desire never to set foot in one's hall ever again, and now you're blissfully asleep on one of their beds. You're gobbling up everything they give you, you're feeding out of the guild's hand.
You know what's going to happen, right?
Something horrendous tries to rise up from the ocean as his entire world shakes. He feels his body twitch in its sleep, batting away the horrid things from his mind. In the chaos Braviary attempts to speak, but when he does the abyss pours into his mouth to drown anything he tries to say.
At any moment they can take their hand away. Then you'll be all alone, hungry and worthless. This time there will be no gold to make you feel like something, you can't even afford to drown it this time, you have nothing!
A sinking sensation overwhelms him, congealing inside his stomach as he's struggling to breathe. He's brought down further and further until something stops him. A mattress, a bunch of old wooly fabrics.
Don't worry, you have a plan don't you? Come on, say it. Don't tell me you intend on leaving these generous people after they have given you so much in so little time? Wouldn't that be disingenuous of you?
You should see if you still have a name for yourself, surely someone out there cares enough about washed-up adventurers to lend you a hand. Maybe then you'll find a new name, wouldn't that be fantastic?
A warm thing touches his shoulders as it messages the old bones underneath his frayed feathers. The darkness has been drained now, no more than a shallow lake between a valley of mud. He can hear sounds rippling through its murky water, doors opening and closing, followed by the cries of a bed as it struggles under the dead weight of a bygone adventurer. However pitiful at this point, there's enough of the water left for the Thought to feed the bird parting word of advice.
If you were ever an adventurer, somebody is bound to have heard of you.
A part of him hopes he'll wake washed up somewheres else, or even in the Inn he was promised, but reality quickly sets in as the sunlight on his face forces open his eyes. He sees the pathetic dresser, the desk, and four wooden walls of the moderately-sized office offered up as a bedroom. Whoever put this bed here decided to leave it right next to the room's stained glass window, so when the sun rose it would shine right down on the idiot unfortunate enough to be sleeping here. It wasn't even a good bed! Prinn had it better on the cold hardwood floor.
His body creaks like lumber as he is hauled out of bed by his wing, then dropped onto his feet. Soon as he's up it feels like he'd come crashing down at any second but somehow his legs are able to bear his obtuse weight. He's miserable, he hasn't gotten any good sleep, he has a headache, and to top it off he's trapped in a guildhall. A wondrous start to a day of adventure.
Prinn was nowhere to be seen. He must've gotten up earlier and just quietly left to go play twenty questions with every single pokemon in the guild. Sticking one's nose into everyone's business was grounds to garner a few enemies. Luckily for Prinn the guild seems to tolerate him for now. Although not officially part of them yet, he still aspires to work under the Scholars' banner just so he can feel like he's somebody cool, and maybe the guild knows this. Maybe they allow him to stick around just so they take advantage of his eagerness for some unpaid labor.
Still, he can't ignore the possibility he may be completely wrong in his assumptions about the Guild, he lacks evidence either way.
If Prinn was doing what Braviary thought he was, the Kid may be onto something. It's not early in the morning, nor is it noon yet, enough time for him to wander around some and ask the pokemon who work here a few things. In particular, he'd like to ask what is so important about the badge to have gotten the guild as interested as they are, to get to know what they really want other than to make shiny baubles of their own. Rattata did want to hear what Braviary's badge does, they both assume it's capable of something noteworthy aside from its use as a reminder of days long forgotten. They had a library here, right? Perhaps a guildie working the books could tell him. It was worth the look.
Braviary touches his badge out of habit, it's still there, and his hat's still attached to his head albeit crumpled from having worn it to bed. There's nothing else for him in this room.
Waiting for him across from his dorm is a shorter grass type. The pokemon's shade of green is almost identical to the guild's scarves, goldenrod petals surround his three fingered hands like cuffs, and his white hair is an untended white bush. All the other dorms are either closed or open, nobody seems to be here but them. There's a broom in one of his hands.
"I was wondering when you'd get up," the roserade says, motioning to the door. "Can I do up your room now? I was told not to bother you."
The pokemon's glaring at him. He's making no attempt to hide that he's had one rough morning, and he's blaming part of it on Braviary for sleeping in.
"Who said? Your Guildmaster?"
"No, it was a little friend of yours. He told me, then I told the Guildmaster. Said you had a 'rough one' yesterday, and so the guildmaster ordered me to cut you some slack." he looks out to the window at the end of the hallway, "If you'd didn't get up in a hour, I would've had to smack you with a broom till you did. I wish I did anyway."
"Was it something I did?"
"It's about what you didn't do! I've been sitting here for an extra hour because you've been off in Fairy-Type land skipping through flower fields with Whimsicott, mumbling rubbish in your sleep." His long fingers curl around the broomhandle like vines as he tightens his grasp. "The one day I'm not on groundskeeping my mums get trampled on and we get robbed! I could be out there right now tending to them, yet here I am doing nothing!"
He suddenly takes in a swell of air, and regains some composure.
"If you're supposed to be some esteemed guest, then I'm sorry, but I don't know you and I haven't had the best start to my day because of you."
Braviary feels a compulsive need to apologize, and an equal desire to learn this Pokemon's name so he can ruin the rest of his day. Doing either of those two things right now would nab him absolutely nothing. He's still standing at the doorway, stealing precious seconds away from his day with every breath he takes. Braviary should just go, don't ask how long he has, just assume he has some time to visit their library and move on with his day. There's no point in letting this go on any further, or dragging the pokemon through the mud for the crime of beginning his day on a bad start.
He gets out of his way, the roserade drags his feet into his room, and Braviary heads down the hall. At the end of it he takes a right out of the dormitories to the foyer where the sounds of utensils grow ever louder. The large doors opposite the entrance which he hadn't gotten to see last night were wide open. A small sign standing next to the stairs reads "Dinner at Noon: Broiled Leppa Berries and Greens" in bright chalk. Before he could step across the foyer, the front doors swing open and two pokemon walk, one of whom he's sure he's seen before.
A small fighting type accompanies a four-legged, orange hound with one of its legs sporting a green band to match its eyes. The difference between how they were yesterday is a hoodless cloak adorned with guild colors and a restrained smile which fades the moment they set eyes on him. The pokemon accompanying them looks to see what's got them in a fuss, and gives Braviary a reassuring smile, seeing fighting-type off with a nod and then closing the distance.
"Splendid, a guest!" The Lycanroc sounded affable, genuinely so. "It's been a while since we've had a visitor from another guild, worryingly long some would say."
He, like anyone else here, saw the badge first then the Braviary wearing it. On one hand he was starting to think the Pokemon here were talking to the spirit of adventure somehow hidden inside that ornament, on the other hand it meant least questions to answer about himself. There's an awkward silence, and the guildie's quick to fill it.
"I got ahead of myself," he chuckles, holding out a paw high for Braviary, "I'm Lycanroc. If your guild happens to have a lycanroc of their own, then calling me Dusk will do. My partner-in-crime is Mienfoo. I hope folks here have been treating you well."
Like Braviary, Lycanroc is gonna have to do. Lycanroc just making sure not to get ahead of himself, Braviary shakes his paw with a tap of his wing. Lycanroc just nods, calling no attention to it.
"It's Braviary. You got a moment?"
Lycanroc stares at the menu, then back at the bird.
"If it's a question, I have time for one. If it's more than one or about anything else, it'll need to wait till I check in with the chief and I've had my fill for the day."
"That's all fine 'n good. I just need to know if your Library's open to 'guests'."
"Of course!" Lycanroc laughs. He motions his paw at Braviary's ornament. "The library's our guild's greatest asset next to its guildmates then the wine, in that order. I
Lycanroc bows his head, then parts to the mess hall as a "See you around!" echoes over the crashes of pots. Dinner's about to start, and noon is upon him. He's got ten or so minutes tops to ask some questions to any bookworm in there before he's brought before the Guildmaster for whatever it is he wants from him.
Four windows tower higher than the guild's walls, they beam light in through their thin green curtains which coats the room in a brilliant dull glow. The sheer wealth of knowledge here commanded respect, even the most jaded simpleton could see how much effort has gone into gathering and curating everything lining every surface. Baubles, bizarre pieces of treasure, artifacts, books and scrolls - seemingly nothing was forbidden to rest on its shelves so long as it was serving the guild's ends. It may not be the greatest assortment in the universe, but it may be running in line for the best collection a guild has mustered, and it's probably known for that very reason.
Were Braviary of the more of the bookish sort he may be able to truly appreciate what this scholarly hoard has mustered, but any pokemon who has lived the life of an explorer would know when to take in the sights. This was one of those times.
It takes a moment to gather his bearings. He was supposed to find someone to ask some questions, be they a custodian or anyone else in the books right now. Anyone other than Prinn. Braviary surveyed seats of the neatly arranged desks; each with a stack of papers and parchment, a quill and a candlestick. He made sure there wasn't a Prinn sleeping on the square of couches under the Library's chandelier, nor tucked behind the stacks of shelves, and then he listened for any webbed feet flopping against the floor.
Nothing. It's silent save for the distant ruffle of a pen against paper. Somebody had to be here of course, he just didn't want it to be the stupid kid. At least not while he was still bitter from last night, that sort of deep-seeded scorn takes some time to simmer.
"Someone here?"
His voice rings out through the library. Somewhere among the walls of literature and trinkets, a pokemon answers.
"I'm always here, yes. I haven't heard your voice before, are you a new recruit perhaps?"
The voice is studious and breathy, but somehow it can be heard from all the way across the library, originating from a small corner hidden among the shelves. The acoustics of this place could carry their words for miles if it wished, but even this seemed like a stretch. The floor creaks under him as he approaches the voice.
"No, just someone with questions."
"Ah, if you're looking for answers I can point you into their general direction." There's a solid thud of a book hitting a desk, the voice gets closer. "Got a subject you're looking into? Need some maps of previously explored places? Perhaps you're looking for some adventurer anecdotes, guests used to like those - back when we had them."
It's the second time these guild mates mentioned the absence of guests. Did something cataclysmic occur in the guild's history? Has the guild itself become embroiled in some hot water? Both of these are equally possible. It's even more likely the guild has simply stopped taking in visitors to protect their wealth. The break-in last night may have just proven the third stance, if they had gone with it, to be completely justified. Interesting how they're pleased to make an exception for these two idiots who moseyed up to their guild right afterwards, one with only a badge to his name, the other a routine pest.
"I-I'm not too into books, I don't have the time for them right now"
Before he could elaborate, the other pokemon in the room speaks up.
"You're in a Library, sir."
"I know."
The voice is dumbfounded, for sure. It seems as though it's going to follow up with an explanation, but it never arrives. Instead the voice reveals itself as gaunt, white pokemon, who glides out from the shelves. There's a slight lavender texture to every part of her ghastly body, and red eyes stare at him from behind a billed, mask-like image. The tattered yellow band tied to her robe-shaped body flows in the nonexistent wind. In the grasp of her spindly appendages is a book with many tiny pieces of paper sticking out from its pages; the title of it has been erased with time.
His knowledge of ghost-types wasn't particularly deep, if had a history with them he'd probably forgotten all about it. Going off whatever comes to his mind, he'd guess this pokemon to be a Froslass. Her snowy white appearance gives it away.
"I can give you time, I suppose." Her hands clutch the flimsy paper. "Although, I don't think you have much time for yourself. Lunch begins soon, sir."
"I suppose I could roll back here after I've eaten? " He stutters a bit. They'll feed him, right? "I don't mean to bother you, I just need one or two things explained to me, and I figured whoever's in the library's bound to know."
"You're spending your time wisely, then. You won't have the chance to come back here after lunch."
One worry alieved, another added.
"What makes you sure?"
"I keep track of the guild's orders, who gets tasked with what, and whether or not they complete them. It's not hard work, per say, I have more time to myself than most of the other guildmates, but the Guildmaster needs me here for most hours of the day.`` A cold mist expels from her when she sighs, it sweeps across her book like winter wind. "Including lunch, not that I need to eat."
"So I'm receiving orders from the guild? Am I suddenly part of y'all's gang?"
"Oh dear, no, and neither is the boy." she corrects, "You won't become part of us unless you're sure you want to be. The boy on the other hand did agree to some work under us as a means of gaining admission to our guild, but for all intents and purposes, we technically consider him part of us now."
"So he's just doing free work for you, is that it? What about the payment he gave to y'all?"
His accusatory tone catches her off guard, only for a second, as she immediately regains her composure. He's not going to get away with dragging her guild down. She already knows how to dispatch him.
"Every one of us goes through a period where we perform a short job for the guild to see if we have merit. The forward payment goes to me who handles all the bookwork, and to commission their equipment. If you were to join us, badge or not, you'll be put through the same test as anyone else."
"The boy did say you both would be happy to help you demonstrate your badge's abilities. We do plan on it eventually, but we're still in a trial period with him on an official level and you on an unofficial. We can't justify sending him out on a mission which could be considered inherently dangerous, not yet."
The gears in Braviary's head are beginning to move, and reality sets in. The kid's move last night got them a roof under his head, but his drive for adventure ultimately sent them straight into the guild's hand. Like an impenetrable barrier of guild policy, his badge shields him from joining them, so they went for the kid instead. And since Braviary did technically agree with Prinn's proposal, the guild is using it as a trump card to get him on board as well. He's forced to play along, he won't like it, but Prinn still owes him some coin.
"You're still paying him, right?"
Please, for the love of all that is good, say yes.
"Yes. Double the normal rate for first-timers, actually. You're not required to, but since you were part of the investigation last night I expect you'll help him, right?"
They thought of everything. It's as though this has happened before, and he hadn't even broached the subject of why they may be so interested in a badge like his.. They're doubling the Kid's pay, not out of anything resembling generosity, but because they're betting on the kid to be. They're not technically paying Braviary if it's the kid who decides to give him a cut of his work for sticking along, it's exactly what he would've suggested. He doesn't know whether to feel offended, or grateful. The guild has performed this dance many times before he ever set foot inside it.
"I won't say no. " He's not even going to bring up the money, it's not worth it. "That's one question, you have time for more?"
"Depending on how hungry you are, I may have time for one question or a couple."
She doesn't have much else to do, she's waiting for the guild to give her more work. Happily spending half an hour answering a confused bird won't put a dent in her productivity. What grand mystery shall he propose first?
"Can you start by telling me why y'all are so interested in this thing?" He shakes the ornament keeping his poncho together. It glistens in the green ambiance. "I thought y'all, as in guilds, always had a whole bunch of these things. I don't ever remember it being such a special little something."
Her eyes contort into a squint, and her head reclines to the side. Sometimes it paid to sound clueless, but this wasn't one of those times. Clearly her job required her to be patient, however her red glare says all. Her look plunges into his soul then resurfaces to say "wow, this bird's as clueless as he seems". She really wasn't going to say it though, her patience forbade it. She, like Prinn, was trying to unravel him.
"Every renounced guild and explorer's society has badges of their own, since we don't have any, our guild is seen as unofficial. So why not just make some?" Her words are orderly, taken from a script she's spoken a hundred times to an equally vast number of bewildered pokemon. "We can't, not in a way which would deem them "official". These badges all have one ability similar to the Orbs you explorers find use of, except they tend to be more utility focused. From a simple light to abilities as outlandish as transporting pokemon out of perilous places, each guild has their own badge which does something exclusive to it."
"There isn't any information out there on how to make these things, just speculation, and rumors wrapped up in guild secrets. We hope by discovering what yours does it'll point us in the right direction," she blinks, "I'm prepared for it to be another dead end."
The book in her hands has maybe a hundred tiny pieces of paper crammed inside of it, some looking to be notes, others bookmarks, barely kept together by its frayed yellow binding. All the tomes in here and curiosities, years of hoarded insight, yet the guild can't seem to figure out how to make the one thing which makes them legitimate in the eyes of others. Without it they're just a library twenty minutes off the road from Scoria Town; an insignificant outlier with nothing to prove they're a guild. That one nugget of information they need eludes the guild like a curse, either everyone here is remarkably unlucky, or somebody doesn't want them to know this. Why wouldn't the other guilds out there keep it a secret? Can't have a bunch of ordinary folk running around with a parlor trick in their pocket.
Perhaps these are the growing pains of a Guild trying to put their name in the history books. Like the test they intended to put Prinn through but on a grander scale. One thing's for sure, the fact he didn't know anything about this was another symptom of his head being full of gunk. He was once a Guildie, or somebody bold enough to have been given a badge. He should've known this already, idiot.
"That's something." Braviary attempts to fill the silence.
She nods slowly, but doesn't say a thing. If he has anything left to say, now is the time. Noon is fast approaching.
"You run this place, don't you?" he stammers out.
"The guild? No, I don't technically run the Library either. I am, nevertheless, the pokemon who works the books the most out of everyone here. Why do you ask?"
"I don't know how much you dug up about me, but could you plump through some Guildie books to see if a Braviary shows up in them at all?" The crumbled up thing riding his head he calls his hat looked hopeless, nobody would ever sell someone this maroon thing, not even to a vagrant. It felt it had been at his side through thick and thin. He's had this thing forever, he's certain of it. "I've worn this hat for as long as I can remember, so if the books mention a braviary without it strapped to his head, it ain't me."
"And your wing?"
What's left of his wing cowered under the draping fabric of his poncho, out of sight from ogling pokemon. It twitches when it occasionally tries to do motions which are now impossible for it. He sighs, and says nothing.
"Hmm…'' She backed off from that line of questioning. "Guildmaster had me search the archives to see if your badge matched with any group we may know of. It resulted in nothing, of course. I wasn't required to search any deeper, so I didn't. If you insist on looking into it I can see if anything about a Braviary with a hat surfaces, but I can't make any promises."
"If something does, I'll have Roserade go looking for you." she elaborates, "He's our groundskeeper, if you haven't met him already."
"Yeah I did, was he the pokemon with the attitude cleaning the rooms this morning?"
"That's him."
"I reckon there's something about roses and thorns I could say about him, but I don't know the fellow well enough to crack a goof about his bad day. He just seemed really sour." He'd be pretty nettled too if someone trampled his work overnight. " I take it he's not always that way?"
"No, but he never used to be so 'sour'." She uses Braviary's own words because what she had to say was much less nice "I'm not inclined to dispose of secrets about our guild, so I can't say why, not like anyone knows but him. I would implore you to tolerate him, he's not spiteful, he's just complicated."
What's that smell? It's not the scent of food slithering down the hall. This one smells so foul he could almost taste the bitterness. Could it be this place reeks of dysfunction or is he simply looking for another reason to stay far away from these gangs? He'd happily let it be the former weren't it for the fact they were, in some very roundabout way, mind him, paying him through Prinn. He'll leech onto their handouts for a bit longer while the tome of grievances amasses its pages.
The beckoning call of a dinner bell chimes through the guild, and finds its way into Braviary's ears. Dinner is, or has been prepared for a while. It wasn't just for the people here to grab their food, it's also his call to go meet a certain Rattata
"It's noon." She reads his thoughts. "He'll let you have a quick bite afterwards, but don't keep Guildmaster waiting too long. The boy's waiting for you too, I'm sure."
He thinks of scurrying down the hall, only he's stopped by a final question.
"May I catch your name real quick?"
"No. Just call me Froslass."
The food was supposedly good tonight. It turns out when any number of Leppa Berries are baked in an oven, their jaw-breaking exterior transforms into something any pokemon could reasonably chew through, as these otherwise difficult to eat berries become a warm, quick snack. Goes good with some bland greens, apparently. He was allowed one peek into the mess hall where inside he can see faces he's met and strangers all getting their fill at a long wooden table. Two empty seats beg for someone to occupy them. As much as his stomach urged him to take their offer he simply couldn't, not while Guildmaster waited for him.
A deep, bitter taste stays with him as he heads upstairs and to the office doors. After one tap of his talons, the oak door creaks open to a familiar sight. Two chairs, and a desk lording over them. This time around there's a blue pokemon already occupying one of those chairs, Prinn, more timid than he's ever seen him. He looks once at the Braviary in the door, then shys away from him. Braviary walks over to the other seat where he remains standing, looking through the clutter to find the Rattata sitting on his paper throne.
"Don't you wanna take a seat?" the tiny leader implores.
Braviary shakes his head.
"Alright then." he says, "While you were asleep I went through a few things with your friend regarding the investigation last night, and there's nothing he had to say which Leon didn't cover already. While you did help us with the immediate investigation, for that we're thankful, I just need to know a few things from you."
Was it the way he looked? His age? Something Prinn didn't tell the Guild about him? His mind races to all every possibility. He refues to think they're so focused on his dumb trinket they'd stage an office interview just to ask what it does. Braviary exhaled a preliminary sigh of disappointment.
"Sure, don't get too excited."
Guildmaster's whiskers flicker.
"Is there something I should be aware of?"
He didn't want to say it, but not in front of somebody who held the keys to his bed and to Prinn's future. If he was supposed to be the unofficial, far more experienced side-kick to Prinn's mystery-hunting, the least he can do is make it seem like he hasn't already lost his mind prior to their first adventure. What sort of pokemon shows up on the beach at random with several holes pink-pricked into the memory? What sort of pokemon would willingly hire that person, yet alone have them do any guildwork beyond cleaning up the grounds?
"Y'all are the one wanting to know a few things," Braviary shrugs, "Why don't you start asking?"
That might've come off as rude, but it didn't phase Guildmaster.
"I'll cut to the chase then." He examines a note in his puny hands. "There are a few things I've neglected to ask you about last night, Braviary. You seemed very tired at the time, so I've let you get some rest. I do try to keep other people's spirits in mind, this includes you, and sometimes others who aren't a part of my guild."
"So when I sent you off early, I tasked our bookkeeper to run a search on your particular badge. We keep a considerable amount of information on our neighbours, and other guilds across the sea. Even then, she couldn't find any guild which has a badge similar to yours."
"Does the guild which the badge belongs to have a name, where is it, and are you or have you ever been part of them?"
Not implying he may have stolen it whatsoever, it may have simply been a gift. The exact nature of this question posed one problem though; he didn't have an answer. Here's hoping he doesn't hold against him.
"I think if it had a name you'd have found it for sure, could be an "Adventuring Society" or "So and So's Guild", both of which aren't specific enough for y'all to find anything about it." Braviary is obviously stepping around many details to make his point. "Can't anyone call themselves a guild?"
"You'd be correct.. There's nothing holding someone back from calling their band of four adventurers a guild, but 'Guild' implies the existence of multiple Teams in the group and a degree of large-scale organization a few pokemon alone do not have."
"Right there's your problem. Even if I knew who ran it, you'd have a hard time looking for it in the name of one fellow alone."
"But it would need to be of a size large enough to have their own badges," Guildmaster retorts, "a group of that size, pardoning their uninspiring name, wouldn't be so hard to find."
"You're right."
"So where is this guild, then?"
Braviary takes a single glance through his memory, and it's as though he's trudged through a waist-high swamp. It just goes as far as when he woke up on a beach, then it becomes a bog of vague explorations in nondescript places with pokemon may as well not exist, and some terrible sinking sensation which looms over all of it. Sometimes he's not even sure he was in some guild. When he drives himself to think this, it's his muscle memory, experience, and general wisdom who all band together to remind him he couldn't have possibly gotten them elsewhere. Where else could his wing have gone? Why would he have so much scorn for guildies if he wasn't one himself at one point?
He needed some help here, so he looked to Prinn. The kid shuffled in his seat upon the Braviary's glare cast over him, then he said something.
"Maybe he's from somewhere across the uncharted sea? Whatever it's called again..." Prinn's doing his best. "That's why you can't find a match in your books, he just came from really far away."
There it is, the segue into the perfect excuse.
"And if you have this kid out here charting beaches and the ocean for you fellows, then I reckon the possibility of me showing up from a far off land, unconscious on a beach, is grounds enough for me to have no clue about my guild." Then Braviary moved in to take his shot. "I reckon it's much better for you to operate like everyone else is, and act as though I'm already part of some guild. I like keeping my distance."
"That's fair." A shred of disappointment rises in Guildmaster's voice. His beady eyes judge him silently. "Are you opposed to doing work in any capacity?"
"No. My partner here isn't."
Braviary swerved over to behind the boy's seat, his huge wing dusting Prinn's shoulder.
"He and I have been working together as long as we know each other. He handles all the technical stuff, while I stay comfortably far away from you guilds. Whatever wage he gets from the guild he splits with me, so please, y'all should pay adequately for what I assume is him being single-handedly tasked with solving your mystery here."
Okay, so only some of what he said was an outright lie. They have been working together for as long as they knew each other, which was only for about a day or so. The part about them being teammates in any capacity was something he sprung on the kid the moment the thought crossed his mind. Prinn can't possibly be expected to do what's asked of him all on his lonesome, so what's he going to say, no?
As a matter of fact, Prinn didn't say anything at all.
"It sounded like you only just met each other." Guildmaster speaks up, "Am I to be mistaken?"
"We've been working together ever since we found eachother out on the beach, it's had to have been a bit."
"Yeah..." Prinn says, "I don't know how it works for you guys, but can't he and I still work together? He just doesn't want to be seen with y'all because that might cause problems, so you can pretend he isn't, and I'll give him some of what you guys plan to give me. Even though we have no idea what guild he came from, it could still be a bad look, it's gonna be worse if they ever find out."
"You would be correct."
Guildmaster takes a deep breath, replacing the note in his hands for another scrap of paper near his feet. Any proposition he had has gone out the window, not like he'd ever force the hand of a well-experienced pokemon thrice his size. Prinn in particular, with his obsessive degree of knowledge about guilds, would let nothing slide past him onto Braviary. Not out of any particular trust in his supposed partner, but because he's a noisy pipsqueak who can't go without asking a hundred questions. Their faults somehow covered their respective backs in a uniquely dysfunctional dance.
"There's no written law forbidding me from recruiting someone from another guild, however, there are certain agreements about boundaries which socially forbid such a thing. I don't want to burden my guild members by starting trouble with another guild."
So it goes without saying he won't pressure Braviary into joining them, he's not worth such a risk. Who knows why they would even consider dragging him into their guild? Perhaps they see something in him beyond that precious symbol. No matter where this goes, he'll be glad to have made his disposition very clear to them.
"Now, onto what's important." Guildmaster claps his hands together. "Your partner has been tasked with gathering information from Scoria Town regarding any recent shipments of our wine to their traders or any evidence pointing towards the identity of our midnight burglars. He's been informed of who we ship them to, and among other Guild-given rights, is also granted written permission by me to look into their stock if he needs to."
"He was to be given compensation for his work equal to our newer recruits, however I've elected to triple his pay for reasons you have made very clear to me." he smirks, "This payment will only be provided once the investigation has surfaced substantial evidence pointing to a suspect. This is a three day job starting, and you can sleep here for the time being."
This was a lot to take in already, but he still wasn't done. As when Guildmaster once again drops a note to take another from the surrounding piles, there's a split-second break in the one-sided conversation.
"And let's say, for whatever reason we solve this problem for good?" Braviary asks, "What do you reckon then?"
"You'll be congratulated on a job well done while I fumble to think of how to repay you." He says this, of course, knowing for certain this initial dive won't turn up amiracle. "This is a three day long investigation, shorter if you find any actionable evidence."
"Actionable is a… big word." Prinn stutters, "You're not going to have us get into any fights or something, right?"
"You're going into a town to ask some questions, I wouldn't send someone as new as you get pulverized by bandits. Do you understand?" He leans closer. "Do you trust me?"
Prinn nods, Braviary takes a deep breath. This was never his choice to begin with, but he thinks he's manage to squeeze them into a more favorable place than if a tired Braviary had agreed to something stupid last night, or if he hadn't sacrificed his gut for some last-minute brains. He'll find out what's gotten the kid into such a sudden bind once they're well away from the guild, all he's waiting for now is his queue and a bite before he leaves. He gets both when Guildmaster bristles his whiskers, then says.
"You both are dismissed"