Despite its reputation as the book-nerd guild, most of its members couldn't be bothered to use the library. Froslass was the only pokemon in this guild with enough time to thumb through every fairytale and logbook adventurers throw onto their hoard. Theoretically with all the knowledge she has; if she was ever put on a bounty she might just outright wipe out all crime on the Dusk Continent. They'll truly never know, because she's fine where she is.
Her job has all the dividends one could ask for: no time limits, no danger to speak of except for the occasional freak accident, and a whole place to more or less call one's own. Sure beats working around the clock to turn in criminals or find pokemon who've fallen into caverns. It probably pays better.
There is one shelf everyone uses. It's the one housing everything important to the adventurer: quick references on applications for berries; methods of handling troublesome pokemon; threadbare knowledge about the world's strangest places (because relying on elaborate prose mid-dungeon was proven to be the end of adventures prior); and visual guides an utter newbie can follow. These were the ones which matter to the guild's members. The rest of the library may as well not exist.
With nothing else to do at this moment, Leon and a belligerent Roserade hit the books. Leon browses through the shelf of guild go-to's while Roserade sat on the couches nearby, rose-cuffed hands crossed.
A primer on dungeon tools calls to Leon this afternoon. The particular page was all about how to organize one's pack. It goes on about which items should be placed at the top, what others should be carried on the person rather than inside a satchel. All things he should know already but he's yet to put it to use on a real job. The break in got everyone on edge, so his time may well come soon.
Roserade speaks up.
"What do you think, Leon? A week, a month?"
Leon slides a bookmark on his page, closes the book, and crams it with the rest of its friends. He turns around.
"The last time you made a bet with me, you went without Sitrus for a week and hated it. What's changed?
"Nothing." Roserade sighs. "I just want to know how long you think Guildmaster's gonna keep those new bloods in here. It's not like him to allow any ordinary idiot into our guild, especially those who show up to our doors at dead-'o'clock moments after a break in."
"Don't you find their arrival weird?" The flower raises an eyebrow at him. "A little suspicious even?"
It was convenient, yes. Suspicious? Not as much as Roserade probably thinks it is. If anyone's gonna screw over the guild, it's not going to be the suck-up from downtown who has spent the last few months of his life trying to get in their door. The answer should be obvious to everyone.
"Prinn can be a little much, but I think Guildmaster was about to bring him on board anyways." Leon's tail flicks. "I don't care if he's skipped a few steps."
"And what about the bird?"
"He's got a badge, and he's interested in the guild." Leon shrugs. "Him and Prinn are a package it looks like - can't have one without the other."
It was understood adventurers worked in pairs, sometimes trios. Parties any bigger than four were a rare case. They work better, and safer this way. Leon can't speak as to how long Braviary has been with Prinn. They claim they've been together for "as long as they've known each other", whatever that's supposed to mean.
"And what's someone with a badge doing signing up with us?"
"He may have the badge just as a token, a conversation piece. If I worked so hard to get my badge I'd sooner hurl a Shadow Ball at my guildmaster than fork it over."
"As if we'll ever get badges." Roserade Laments.
"We will." says a third voice.
A cool breeze sweeps over Leon as the resident library ghost emerges from behind the bookshelf. She goes on without even apologising, as scares from her were expected at this point.
"Braviary is our first lead in a long while. Now we have a chance for us to look at one close up, to understand how it works and if it's replicable with our resources." Froslass turns to Roserade. "That's why he's here."
"Okay…" Roserade shrugs, "so we learn a thing or two then what?"
"It would be the Guildmaster's decision." She answers the grass-type. "Should it content you to know, he requested I perform a background check on our new acquaintance.
"And the whole morning I searched the books to find anything which may connect him to an obscure guild someplace far away only to come up empty handed." Froslass continues. "There's no stray mention of a hatted Braviary in most of our books on other guilds, nor do any of their badges match his. He's truly remarkable as to leave me completely dumbfounded for once. I don't believe for a moment he himself knows his homeland or his guild."
"Sounds like a facade." Roserade grumbles.
"It's not a very good one if we can see through it." Leon speaks. "Where does someone like him come from? He looks like he came straight from the Sand Continent, but would someone from there come this way? The Sand Continent's not exactly our grassy neighbour."
"Can you see why I don't want him around?" Roserade answers. "I don't like it when I can't tell whether or not my own guildmates are telling me the truth. There's enough bad blood around these parts as is."
"Just because he doesn't know-"
"- doesn't mean he's not playing into it." Roserade completes Froslass' sentence for her. "He could be playing stupid, pulling the wool over all of our eyes. How did anyone find this dunce?"
"Unconscious on a beach." Leon answers.
"You can't be-"
Before the explicatives come rolling out of Roserade's mouth Leon shushes him. Prinn's too nice to be a liar. Those myths had to have some semblance of truth to them, right? They can't all be total fabrications. Stories began from somewhere no matter how embellished they become. What better place to wonder about tall tales than in a guild's vast library?
"Froslass, are you done looking into him?" Leon speaks up. "Do you have anything else you need to do?"
Froslass shakes her head.
"There's a thirty percent cut of my next job on the table if you feel like reading stories of mysterious pokemon who show up to guilds out of nowhere. Because if anything about them is remotely similar to Prinn's friend, then maybe something might be up here."
Time is a commodity ghost-types have in droves. There is nobody else in the guild who was willing to waste such time, Froslass seemingly knows this, and she laughs at the Smeargle's proposal."
"Make it worth it for me. Forty percent, no lower."
"Deal."
Leon extends a hand, and she shakes it with her tiny cold hands. Roserade laughs from a distance.
"Your loss, Leon."
Thanks to Prinn's chirping, Braviary learned there's about three places to be in the guild: the Archive, the mess hall, and the gardens. There was a fourth in the form of the amphitheatre, but it's more of an extension of the mess hall rather than its own place. In any other guild the amphitheatre would be in ruins from all the training, but these people were scholars and explorers, not battlers.
They check the mess hall first. The massive table spanning the room is utterly empty; the kitchen silent. It was sometime between lunch and the end of the day meals, why would anyone be here? It's pretty obvious what Prinn actually cares about..
"I don't know what we expected." Prinn speaks. "You wanna check outside?"
This isn't a question, this is a demand. Braviary knows what's out those doors. He was walking straight into Prinn's trap, wasn't he?
"Check behind those curtains, maybe some little fella's hiding there." Braviary combs through the room "Or the kitchen if you're hungry. How long do you reckon until the guild's next meal?"
"Maybe two, three hours? They usually have it at sundown for the late arrivals."
At least they look out for their explorers - that's a good thing.
Light momentarily bursts into the room as Prinn flicks up the curtains on his way to the doors. Either Braviary follows him to where he will absolutely pester him about battles, or he stays here and allows this kid to handle the investigation. No way. He'll probably get thrashed for asking far too many questions. Braviary begrudgingly follows him.
Outside, four stone rings of various sizes and heights surround a flat circular plinth. Although it surely looks crude from a distance, the seating looks very intentional. It may not hold as many pokemon as it should, but these seats are meant for guild members from all walks of life; the only thing it is missing is a huge bowl for all the water-bound folks to watch from.
Maybe it wasn't a perfect place to fight, nor was it necessarily ideal, but it was wide open and the guild's services were only a few steps away if something happened. So long as nobody doesn't fire a devastating Hyper Beam at the Guildmaster's office, then it's a swell place for two adventurers to have a friendly match.
But they couldn't have a match even if they wanted to, as it's occupied by a little yellow and pinkish pokemon sitting next to the stage. Eileen's staring down at a piece of paper in her hands..
"Eileen!"
The paper nearly flies from her hand when Prinn shouts from the kitchen door. She hurriedly stuffs it into a satchel she was sitting on.
"Wh-why are you here?"
Prinn skips down to greet her; Braviary drags himself with him. When Prinn sits himself down, the varying heights of the seating make them all level. She looks flustered.
"What's the matter? Didn't you already know?" Prinn smiles, "I'm partly a member of the scholar's now!
"This is good news, I guess?" She stutters. "Congratulations? What are they having you do?"
"An investigation!"
"Oh, about last night? No wonder I didn't hear about you, everyone was talking about the burglary, not the little fellow who just joined."
She avoids eye contact, and just waves to the one winged drunk.
"Who's this?"
Before Prinn can introduce him, Braviary steps in. He clears his throat, and dusts his poncho out of habit.
"Braviary will do. It's a long story, but at the end of the day your guildmaster put us up to the task and we owe it to the little fella to get to the bottom of this. Are you a member of the guild?"
"Yes, yes I am. Newest member," Eileen gestures to Prinn, "well previously newest."
She takes a moment to straighten herself.
"Got anything else you wanna tell before we get into it?" Braviary asks, "Like maybe why are you out here?"
"I'm not a suspect, am I?"
They look between each other. Is she? What do they possibly have to go off of other than the suspected typing of the culprit, supposed mail trouble, a mean look? With any luck they'll find no connection between her and the thief, so she'll be able to sleep peacefully at night knowing the worst thing to happen today was this little blue twerp joining her guild. Braviary thinks of the first question on his mind.
"Y'all good at battling?"
"I like to think I'm a bit above average, my father was pretty good at it. Lycanroc helps me train, but we don't get as much fighting in as we should. My typing makes it difficult. I don't want to accidentally hurt him"
"Like how recently?" Prinn says, "I thought about training out here ever since I laid eyes on it. It's a big, wide area, perfect for battling."
"It's not perfect. The shores would be better."
She shuts her eyes, and so does he.
He hears it suddenly, waves roar as they crash onto a black shore; glacial winds blowing in the north. He swears he can feel the salty air burn his nostrils. It's awful, disorientating even, but she must see something in this place.
Things would be different if he hadn't awakened here dazed and confused. Perhaps he'd be able to see the beauty of Scoria Town if he had come here out of choice, just like everyone else in this guild.
You could never be one of them. The intrinsic something pulls him away from the beach, back into reality.
"But…" she continues, "we haven't had a match in days. I've been busy carrying barrels all day, he's been busy doing silly little errands for Guildmaster. He says my job will help me build strength. I don't see what he's on about, I'm never gonna get into a fight with wine barrels, so I hope!"
Braviary is the only one who doesn't chuckle at this.
"You're still making coins, right?" Braviary asks.
"Yeah?"
"Then it's worth your time. What are you doing out here if Lycanroc's gone?"
"Being alone."
She twiddles her fingers, They look wrong without the paper between them. Psyduck's testimony painted a very clear picture of what's going on here: a guildie away from their family either worried sick about them or the contents of their mail. This was personal. Braviary is in no place to demand to read through her matters, but if she can give them any sort of clue, it would be invaluable.
Does he just ask for it? How does one tell someone to spill their poorly hidden secrets out into the world? Prinn's looking at him. Braviary takes one big step backwards then lets Prinn handle this one of two ways, poorly, or not so poorly.
"Look, um, Eileen…" Prinn's feathers bristle with anxiety. "Me saying you're not in trouble won't make things feel better, but that's the truth. I don't think you are, okay?"
Okay, not bad thus far. Prinn sounds like he's picking his words much slower than usual.
"I don't know what things are like for you, I'm not sure if we're really all that big friends." Prinn slows even more. "Pysduck said to keep you out of this and that's what we're gonna do, okay? We're just thinking a fighting-type could have been the burglar, and he said you were worried about something. Just tell us what it is. I promise I'll keep true to Psyduck and you."
Her tiny, black leap between the well-meaning water-type and the Braviary in the distance. She seems fixed on the bird, then darts away, as whatever was on her mind is shoved away to make room for him.
"He's not-" Braviary swears he hears her whisper.
"Prinn, you know my dad, right?"
"I never met him. You just said he's a good battler."
"Dad was big in another guild, the one in Calico. My mom was in the same guild at some point but it's not something she mentions anymore. She didn't want me to join one. It's personal. It's not fun to talk about, and I don't want to."
She stares at them in silence, expecting them to say something but there's nary a peep. Everyone's waiting for more from her. Eilen clasps her fingers together.
"Look, eh - my only way of keeping in touch with her at all is through Murkrow. But she's just been asking more things about the guild recently. It's weird because she moved on from all the stuff about me joining this guild, she never ever asks about the scholars, she only ever told me to keep away from here."
"Wouldn't blame her." Braviary chuckles. "Guild life's a bit much on some people. Not every pokemon out there is cut out for it, but it's the only avenue some folks have to stay afloat. They make your food, they give you a roof, they control your pay. It's all nice until you think about leaving, then you realise you've been trapped ever since they gave you their shiny little badge."
Prinn's not alone for once, both pokemon listen to the sudden vitriol in gawking silence. Even he, the one spouting all this nonsense, doesn't know where it's coming from. The next few seconds go on for an hour, then.
"You sound alot like her."
A tremble, and a sigh, Eileen sounds utterly drained. Braviary got all they could get from her. It's best to leave this alone. They'll just have to accept the information given to them - there is no reality where she coughs up the letter.
Prinn quietly slides off his seat, and Braviary follows him to the mess hall. She deserves to be let be.
Beyond the door they hear the rumble of the kitchen, dinner was being prepared, and with it meant night was fast approaching. The moon would soon settle behind the treetops, Froslass will lock the library away, and whoever is on ground duty will sweep through the guild and lock up their wine stores. The guildmaster will do a second look from his window, then everyone will be sound asleep in their cramped little rooms.
It's interesting, he thinks, that this whole investigation spawned solely out of someone trying to steal some guild's drinks. Important drinks, but still drinks. It's a weird way to attack a guild, impossible unless they knew the guild's schedule, and their relationship with the local traders. Said pokemon could be anybody, yet their eyes remained squarely on Eileen. She may have not done this, but she still played a role in it. Someone was using her for information.
The big question of course, was who? Up until now there were two very easy explanations: someone with a grudge, a vexed ex-trader who got dealt the short end of the stick, or a criminal off to make money. They've been faced with the very real possibility this girl or her family just may well be responsible. A guild can recover from a hole in their pocket - what about repairing burned bridges?
Whether this is Braviary's experience or contempt speaking, he's been unable to separate the two since the beach. Goes to show how little he knows of him, himself, and this strange continent.
"Hey are you okay? You went off again…"
Prinn's at the door with him, waiting for Braviary to step inside, perhaps a bit afraid to go run into whomever might be in the mess hall
"I think i'll be," he answers, "I just had a thought, I'll tell you once we have all our Psyduck in a row; preferably while we're still not in possible eyeshot of your… friend back there?"
"Friend." Prinn nods, "Yeah.. friend."
"Just your friend, so what got you so nervous then?"
Prinn shrugs.
Yeah, okay kid.
With the push of a wing the door opens. Accompanying the storm being brewed into the kitchen is a familiar face from across the table: Leon, sat alone with a bowl of assorted berries. Taking up the seat nearest to him is a large bag made from a familiarly green canvass, its contents unknown, but there's enough in it to keep upright. It's hard to tell if he's happy to see them.
"Hey. " he bites into a bright red berry, "Anything new since last night?"
Over to the right they can see the guild's chef through the kitchen window: Metang. Their huge metal hands can barely work the pans they've been given as they whip the kitchen into the storm.
"Oh yeah, a little bit!" Prinn glances back at the door. "We'd just back from talking to Eileen about some of it. I'd say we have a good idea of where to go."
"Huh like where?"
"Like, erm…"
"Calico town of course!" Prinn gets it out, "Yeah - you remember those rumours of bandits, Leon? We figure it's the same group who went after the wine and the last shipment of it left before news about the break-in reached Scoria. The lady in charge of the shipment was headed right over there!"
"You gotta be kidding me!" The kitchen stops when Leon shouts. "Did nobody tell the runners what happened last night?"
There's no way they were the only pokemon to head to town and tell folks about this, right?
"I sure hope not." Braviary speaks. "Garl was the only fellow down there who knew what went down. The only other pokemon we brought it up with was darned surprised to hear the guild got clowned on."
"It's a break in, Braviary. It's not 'clowning on'." Leon grumbles. "It's serious business, it's not some prank."
Leon rips through another berry, then spits out its core.
"Go on. Did Guildmaster send you to tell anyone?"
"Nope." Braviary says. "I did figure it was okay to tell Garl since he's obviously got more ties to the Scholars than anyone else down there. It bears repeating, we reckon everyone already knew."
"What about the Aromatisse?" Prinn exclaims
"Oh yeah, the-"
Leon intercepts him a second time when he springs out of his seat, nearly spilling his bowl. There is dread in his eyes.
"Wait wait, you said an Aromatisse, right? Trader?"
"Yeup." Briary answers. "Garl even said she's from a trade family."
"Not just any, she's from one of the biggest families on the continent! A whole group of aromatisse all work under their banner, they're mostly incense traders, but they handle other things too."
"So… kinda like Murkrow right?"
"Sorta." Leon answers Prinn. "Except for mail they all do trade. Groups like them, consisting of one sort of pokemon, exist everywhere. The Aromatisse are entirely local to our lands. They sometimes hire other people to do their work, but you'll never see them, you'll only be talking to the traders who are all those pink folks."
Braviary leans forward, Leon shrinks back into his seat in response.
"And y'all know this because?"
Leon plops another berry into his mouth and chews. He takes the couple which are left in the bowl into a pouch on his travel bag.
"I told you I used to work with caravaners. So I may have worked for them without really knowing, just pushing things from one town to the back without reading the labels, lighting the way with my tail. The last caravan I worked with was on its way here when on the way back when well…"
Leon seems to have traded the life of a caravaner for a slightly less miserable one. Braviary, for all the trash he talks of the guild, would've done the same. The bird nods in understanding.
"I'm not saying the Aromatisse you're looking for knows me, but I'm probably on their records in a basement somewhere, told never to be hired should I come looking. I hadn't ever found out who gave us the return job. If it's her, she won't be happy to see me.
Great, they might actually get in a fight after all.
"Okay, okay, how do you think she knew about the break in then?" Braviary asks. "People don't suddenly wake up and leave for no reason when there's bad news floating around."
"I don't know, Braviary." Leon shrugs, "Someone from here could've told her, or maybe her reason has nothing to do about this. She would have already been paid, she could afford to go anytime she wants. The guild isn't liable, but I don't think there's anyone with the guts to start a problem with a trade family like her's."
There is someone from here already handing out guild information to the world, a Mienfoo who wants nothing other than to be left alone. She could have left the Guild first thing in the morning, told the people whom she worked with about the terrible news, and through the vine - an Aromatisse would eventually hear about it.
"So as for both of you, what's your plan? Heading out? Calling it a night?"
"If she did leave this morning, um, then the chances are she'd already be attacked." Prinn jostles his carrying tube around, they hear the map crinkle inside. "So the sooner we leave, the sooner we can catch up and warn her."
"Straight away, huh? It's going to be dark out there, you know. You could use a light."
He wouldn't have a travel bag sitting next to them if he wasn't coming.
"Sure, you can tag along." Braviary "Do you mind Prinn?"
"I can mind him as long as I get paid."
Leon chuckles, Braviary laughs, Prinn tries to follow along but he sounds more like a hatchling crying out for help. Perhaps feeling a bit bad about this, Leon quickly turns to the roaring.
"Mick! Can I take what's left with me?"
A voice, metallic, and grating sounds back. It talks as though each word is an effort to speak.
"You already did. It's in your bag's front right pocket"
"Are you able to make more?"
"This is not a question, Leon. I am capable of feeding this guild, so it stands to reason I can cook for three pokemon."
Leon thinks of his next words carefully.
"But will you, for the kid?"
"Of course."