"Hello-mellow, Blitzen-y!" Sororo bubbled. "It's so good that I'm able to talk-ity to someone already about the cashier position-y at my humble store-ity... just last week my old Hume-ity said she had to move to the big city-ity and I need-weeded to fill in right away, and..."
Blitzen continued to stare and nod, trying not to cringe at the overwhelmingly Windurstian accent Sororo poured all over him.
"...and then she wreck-ied our stock of Stone scriptures because she stayed inside on her smoke break, and..." Sororo took a deep breath. "...I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myselfy... anyways... can you tell me a little more about yourselfy? What experience do you have with magicy?"
Blitzen winced. He was starting to get better control over his impulse to reach out and strangle people when they dropped the m-bomb; he'd already had to swallow his pride during his job hunt, as upon leaving the smithy he very quickly realized exactly how little there was to do in Bastok that wasn't back-breaking mine work, and for now he would have to kiss rear to make ends meet... at least until he had a little more reputation anyways. "...I don't have much." he blatantly lied.
Sororo frowned. "Well that's too baaaaad... it's no matter-natter... I can teachy you a few of the lesser spells... sometimes the customers want a little-wittle demonstration. Ohhh, I'm not sure if I mentioned this before... I'll be all the more glady to take you on right away, but, I'm afraidy all I can have you do is manage-panage the black magic tome sales and rentals... I filled my white magicy salesperson position shortly before you arrived today."
Blitzen's head tilted over as Nanono stumbled through the lane behind the counter carrying a tower of books. "W-where do you want-t these?"
"Third shelf from the back, hun." Sororo said over her shoulder.
Nanono moved the books away from her face for a moment, her face turning a thick shade of red as she saw Sororo chatting and laughing with someone. She made a quick u-turn in the tiny width provided to her, and charged again into the back rooms. Moments later another pattern of crashes echoed out from the back chambers.
"That's the girl I ran into the other day." Blitzen said blankly.
"Found a sweety-heart already?"
"No, literally." Blitzen spurted. "...weird I'd see her again so soon. I dunno why, but I feel like I've met her somewhere else before."
"She's been acting pretty antsy lately," Sororo leant forward. "There's pleeeeeenty of gossipy going on around that last night somebody broke-woke into her residence through the back window and left with nothing but her underweary drawer! She reported it to the galkan guardy that patrol-wols that area but it got passed onto the neighborhood watch anyways. Welllllllll, from the evidencey gathered by the watch, some drunk hooligans must've gotten in-y and..."
"Waterday's fine?" Blitzen interrupted.
Sororo stopped for a second, eventually nodding. "That'd be finey."
Blitzen quickly waved himself off, and once again hurled open the heavy wooden doors of the shop. He quickly moved forward and hopped down the steps of the small terrace the building sat on, and as he turned left to head underneath a wing of the Metalworks to take another flight of stairs down to the residential sector, Grawp moved up alongside him.
"So that's where magic Blitzen is hiding." Grawp sighed, shaking his head.
"Aren't you the one with a day job?" Blitzen shot back. "What are you doing here?"
"I was on break and couldn't help but notice you preventing yourself from vomiting before entering the local scribery," Grawp muttered. "that and you've already turned every merchant in Bastok upside down looking for a job. The guy at Dragon's Claws said you sounded a little desperate."
"I have enough money to pay for another 4 weeks of rent but I don't feel easy not actually having any income. Hey, you know, when I was in Sororo's, I saw that girl I ran into yesterday stocking the shelves."
"Found a sweetheart already?"
Blitzen ran a hand down his face. "No. She brutally maimed my face, that's why I decided to bring the topic up. What is with you, anyways? You make it sound like there's no females of my sex around here to begin with."
"I imagine there's some. They're all busy casting spells though."
"URRRRGHH." Blitzen picked up his pace. "What did you catch up to me for, anyways..."
"Well, I knew you wouldn't bother going down to Ore Street to contact the Talekeeper, so I made an appointment for you."
Blitzen stopped midstride and looked over his shoulder. "Wha?"
"You already know the address. Head there at 20:00 tonight, and don't keep him waiting. He directly said that he had someone that he wanted you to meet." Grawp nodded to Blitzen. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have some peons to whip. And for future reference, you really SHOULD get laid, it's starting to show in your complexion."
Blitzen ground his teeth. "Why is a Galka telling me this."
"Shows how little you know." A grin threatened to split Grawp's stony face in two. He slowly pivoted around, waving over his shoulder as he walked back off towards the Metalworks. Blitzen sulked as he watched the giant casually slump away into the distance. Slowly, he himself pivoted around and began to walk away towards the archway opening that seperated the districts of Bastok. As he did though, he found himself crawling to a stop again. Blitzen-Aitzen felt unusually good. As he took a moment to think about it, it hadn't been the only time in the past week that he'd found his life unusually stable. But, at the same time, he still deemed it good luck that he had been able to get on good standing with someone that had experiences similar to his. The more he ran that through his mind, the more he realized that he'd been particularly dumb the entire time - if the general populace believed him to have a personal quality that was the actual opposite of what he represented, that meant that there had to be at least one person that was experiencing the reverse.
Blitzen tilted his head. He had a good friend. He lifted his legs and slowly spun around in place, cupping his hands to his mouth as he shouted to Grawp off in the distance. "HEY!" Grawp stopped, turning in the same manner. He had a puzzled look on his grizzly face. "You wanna go back for a drink after we sort out this meeting crap?!"
Grawp flinched. He stared at the ground, then back to Blitzen again. "Hmm... okay. It can't be too late though, I have to open tomorrow before noon."
Blitzen nodded, waving Grawp off again. As Grawp disappeared around a corner, Blitzen let his hands rest on his hips. It felt good to be able to make an invitation like that for once.
Volker sat with his elbows resting on the immigration office counter, watching the first and last orb of a ball metronome click back and forth. His eyes slowly rolled over as the door of the chamber slowly swung open, Iron Eater striding through. Their eyes met for a moment before Volker went back to his intense surveying. Soon Iron Eater himself found his eyes gravitating to the device, and continued to watch it for a few seconds before shaking his head. "The Senate meeting isn't for another hour," the galkan Musketeer murmured. "...I know you enjoy being punctual but this is going a little overboard."
"This thing is marvelous," Volker mumbled. "Someone picks up one end, they let it go, and time can march on as much as it wants - this little closed system can keep itself amused for hours. Don't you wish more things stayed the same?"
"I think you've already lost me."
"Even Bastok was nearly economically unstoppable at some point, but I'm sure you understand that our natural resources are getting a little on the dry side... well, compared to what we've seen as a collective nation, anyways. The darksteel yield from Zeruhn has fallen drastically since last year."
"To be perfectly honest," Iron Eater interjected. "that may have more to do with new and improved labor laws involving the Galkan populace than a mineral drought."
Volker sighed, slowly pressing himself off the counter and standing upright. "You're probably right. I don't want to argue about semantics though. I know about the empathy you have towards the Galka, yeah, that's definately a nobrainer... but, we obviously don't have the pull on the adventurer population that we used to have. The attendance at the Legionaire's Expedition was fairly pitiful. The consensus among the population of Bastok is that this is, well, that commercial city that isn't Jeuno, or to some people, a slag pit that sometimes has the decency to vomit up some iron and copper on a semiregular basis."
"Military recruitment has slowed drastically..." Iron Eater glanced over his shoulder, watching Naji as he drank from a water fountain out in the lobby. "...was there something you specifically had in mind?"
"Oh, nothing," Volker muttered. "I just thought that Bastok doesn't necessarily need to be famous for a large standing army, it just needs to be have a powerful presence, in security and diplomacy." Volker walked around behind the counter, reaching into one of the lower shelves and taking out an envelope. He dumped out several long, flat pieces of parchment, each with an artist's depiction of a Tarutaru with moppy brown hair. "Does this man look familiar to you?"
"He was participating in the Iron Musketeer Dethroning at the Exhibition, if I'm not mistaken. Is this a wanted poster?"
"I received this recently from the San d'Orian consulate. Years ago the relatives of a man named Eluion had placed a relatively high bounty on this Tarutaru's head, claiming that he was personally responsible for Eluion's murder. He's been a fugitive for several years now but seems to have had the guts to move into Bastok and assume no consequence would come of it. I would have had a chance to apprehend or at least intercept him immediately after his publicity stunt at the Exhibition, but I was afraid of causing a panic. While I am not 100 certain that the physical features of Blitzen-Aitzen match what's jotted down here, the fact that Blitzen is currently in ownership of a Royal Knight sword sounds skeptical enough to justify keeping a close watch on him. Until I see any conflicting evidence, or manage to squeeze a possible confession out of Blitzen, I will continue doing so. If I am able to bring in a convicted San d'Orian criminal, it should give a sizable boost to the Musketeers', and ultimately Bastok's, international reputation."
Iron Eater shrugged. "While I'd be honored to help in such an endeavour, so you honestly think that defeating one criminal on the lam will be enough to demonstrate Bastok's commitment to the other nations? Do you have any possible direction to go in after that?"
Volker bent down, lifting a large box out from underneath the counter. He dumped it on the floor, showering it in dozens, possibly hundreds of similarly-styled envelopes.
"These are all...?" Iron Eater's eyes flitted between the countless confidential files.
"I intend to bring this motion forward at the Senate meeting. With presidential consent, I wish to create an international law agency in coordination with Jeuno and the finest of our own Musketeer forces, as well as a wing of mercenary forces, in an alliance that would hunt serial and/or fleeing criminals of the nations. Regardless if other countries accept or deny our action, or even join us in it, we will stand as the perpetrators of this act. That alone will be enough to enhance the public image of Bastok."
"Well... I... er..." Iron Eater knelt down, sifting through the criminal profiles with his hands. "...this is all remarkable... but, is this all that the Mythril Musketeers will be presenting at this month's meeting? I still have a signed protest that I was wishing to present on the behalf of the residents of Ore Street, in the hope of possibly moving forward action towards creating more suitable housing for the workers of-"
"Time allowing. I'm sorry, friend, but if you'll excuse me for a bit... I have to piece together the last bits of my report. I'm sorry, can you tidy up these? I'll see you in an hour." Volker bowed, dodging clean around Iron Eater and escaping the office unscathed.
Iron Eater turned around, letting a cluster of envelopes drop out of his hand. The galkan guard looked visibly crushed. "...what has gotten into you, Volker..." Iron Eater gazed off into space for a moment, letting out a weak sigh before hunching down to shovel the papers back into the box they came from.
Volker, meanwhile, continued on his stride out of the presidential office, and gathered several stares from passerbys as he moved through the lane with the other consulate offices. "...I might not have a complete 100 valid reason to survey Blitzen, but now I know enough about him to keep as close tabs on him as I might need..."
Blitzen and Grawp stood in front of one of the rickety doors guarding one of the run-down Ore Street settlements. The cobbled stone walls were beginning to crack viciously, up to the point that it could probably swallow a small hand tool easily. Next to the door was a cluster of lightning crystals hanging on a string between a specially-carved bowl and a hole in the wall. The devices had already become a mainstay in the middle-class housing of Bastok, but less than half of the lower-income residences that made up the majority of Ore Street had the feature added. Speaking into the bowl would cause the voice to resonate out of a similar bowl inside the house, giving an identity. Peepholes served the same function of course, but while it was moderately easy for someone to create a visual illusion using magic, it was difficult to correctly mimic someone's speech pattern all the way through the machine in that manner.
Blitzen glanced around both edges of the door. It was well-maintained compared to the rest of the structure around it. "What's this..."
Grawp shook his head. "It was the address that I was given..." he quickly straightened up as the wooden gate creaked open. Standing behind it was a galkan child, literally a third of Grawp's height - and only slightly taller than Blitzen himself.
"Ohhh. It's you." Gumbah bowed. "I heard on the grapevine that you were wanting some of my time... is this a friend of yours? Come on in."
Grawp bowed back before moving forward. Blitzen hesitantly followed. Inside was little different than any of the galkan homes on the Street, comprised of little more than some simple carpeting, bedding, a small range that barely contained enough room to prepare anything of value, and a cupboard of the same size but vertically - but what caught Blitzen's eye was the gargantuan bookcase on the opposite wall, which at first glance seemed to carry nothing but thick history and political textbooks. He glanced over to Grawp, who had already sat himself with his massive arms slumped down in front of him on the floor. Grawp exchanged Blitzen's stare with a nudge of his head. Blitzen took the signal and simply sat down on the ground where he was.
"Hot chocolate or tea?"
Grawp shook his head. "I'm fine." Blitzen again repeated.
"So then..." Gumbah turned back around from the range, tipping his mug from side to side. "...Grawp wanted to meet with me pretty badly, he said that he wanted to introduce you to me. Soooooo... who might you be, and what brings you here?"
"Blitzen-Aitzen... sir..." Blitzen was still fixated on the collection of books. He twitched and quickly fumbled back into place as he noticed Gumbah staring at him. "...I just came to Bastok to live, that's all. I've had bad life experiences in Windurst and San d'Oria seems to want me dead, so... yeah."
"You must have done something pretty intense to miff Windurst," Gumbah sat down across from his two visitors. "I've never heard of anyone actually being exiled, well, with the exception of a heretic summoner or two."
"I wasn't exiled. I just sorta ran away from home. I was never good at black or white magic and never had any interest in learning either, and I've been ridiculed about it all my life. I was constantly denied doing what I loved best and my parents were abusive about making sure that I passed the Academy and learned to their specifications..."
Grawp raised an eyebrow. He never said anything about that...
"Well, that's unfortunate to hear. I don't think I've actually met a Tarutaru willing to go those lengths to avoid use of magic. But if you were willing to shun that so badly, what was it that you wanted to do? What were skills that you wanted to show everyone?"
"Anything else." Blitzen shook his head. "Well... that brings me to my next point... Grawp's probably already told you why we're here today. I had to do a great deal of coping with the hazards of travel to get where I am today... I've been told that I am a decent fighter and, anyways, supposedly I need the blessing of the Galka to be considered a passable warrior in these parts. Grawp asked me if I wanted to train in that field, and he mentioned that the Talekeeper would be able to find me someone willing to take me as their apprentice."
"Are you looking to join the Bastokan military?" Gumbah said sternly.
"...I don't know." Blitzen sighed. "All I want to do is show people that I have that ability, and that I have something to offer people that isn't magic."
"You've come to the right place," Gumbah sighed weakly. He raised his arms in the air, letting them slump back down onto his knees. "How long have you been here?"
"Several weeks."
"Then you've undoubtedly seen how the Galka themselves are treated in light of the Humes," Gumbah took a long sip of his now rapidly cooling hot chocolate. "Maybe you don't realize it fully, but we are the target of a lot of abuse, moreso than the Republic is willing to bet on. If you're looking for an environment to learn to escape a preset notion about yourself, then living in Bastok will be an enlightening experience for you - for better or for worse. If you haven't noticed yet, we're all living the conflict that you yourself are in. While you say that you are nothing but a caster, the Galka are perceived as nothing but brutes and packhorses and laborers. So I personally think that staying in proximity of us will ultimately make you a better person."
Blitzen nodded. "I understand."
Gumbah smiled, nodding back. He slowly pushed himself back to his feet. "Now, I'm wondering where my guest went. There was another Galka here earlier that I wanted you to meet, but he said that he had to go check on something quickly. He was an Iron Musketeer that had been injured recently, and said that he'd be willing to train an apprentice warrior while he was mending his wounds. Now if I-" Gumbah was interrupted by another knock at the door. "Ah, that must be him. Excuse me." Blitzen and Grawp watched as Gumbah weaved between them and hurled the door open. "Why if it isn't..."
Sororo pivoted her head to look around both sides of the child Talekeeper. "Ohhhh... Blitzeny? Blitzeny? I was told-wold that you'd be herey... Blitzeny?"
Blitzen sighed. "What..."
Sororo courtseyed. "Excuse me, Mr. Talekeeper... I just wanted to have a word with Blitzen..."
"This had better be good." Blitzen slowly climbed to his feet.
Sororo waved a sheet of parchment in the air. "Excuuuuuse me, but we have a customer at the shopy that wants to make a couple-wouple purchases and he wants to knowy when he can get a tutory to make sure he knows how to use-muse the spells themselves. He wants Stone, Wate-"
"Let me see that." Blitzen snatched the sheet out of Sororo's hands. As he began to read it, his face contorted.
"Aerial Mace, huh?" Blitzen laughed. He folded up the sheet in his hands, stuffing it back into his pocket.
Flying Hammer's face continued to twitch, looking like it was ready to breathe fire on everyone standing in front of him. The Galka was wrapped up in a tunic several sizes too big, even for the giant, and additional white cloth was wrapped over his mouth to further conceal his apperance. Blitzen, Gumbah and Grawp all stood in front of Flying Hammer outside of Sororo's scribery.
Gumbah stood limply with his arms folded. "Y'know, if you wanted to learn magic so bad, you could've fit it into your schedule a little better... we were waiting for you this entire time. And what is with that ridiculous outfit... do you need to hide your private magic lessons that badly?"
"Do you idiots have ANY idea how much fun it is to light a fire like this?!" Flying Hammer held up his left arm and unwrapped the tunic from it with his other hand - revealing a brightly-knit cast underneath. "Is it such a goddamn crime to learn Fire to make my life marginally easier due to an injury caused by this little shrimp? My livelihood and pride is already damaged, I don't need anything else screwing me ov-"
"Yes, yes, I know," Grawp rolled his eyes, letting his head roll around. "If any of the guys at the bar know you're doing this you'll be scarred for life. But I'm interested to know how you intend to start fires with rocks and water."
"Those are the spells... you need to master... before you can move onto Fire! I might be a rockhead but even I know this!" Flying Hammer snarled.
"That's how it always starts-smarts..." Sororo bubbled. "First Stone, then Water, then Aero, then Fire... then Blizzard, then Thunder, and then you wanna learny and learny and-"
"I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU!" Flying Hammer roared.
"Well I still hate to interrupt this, but you did promise that you would be willing to chat with whoever Grawp was bringing to me and get him into shape a little. So, how about you drop what you're doing and give Blitzen a hand?" Gumbah slowly started to turn around, continuing to watch over his shoulder. "I won't make any mention of what's going on here if you reeeeeeally want me to, but the others here might not be so merciful."
Blitzen's eyes rolled over to Gumbah, then back to Flying Hammer as Blitzen folded his arms. "By some freak coincidence, I do happen to work here and I'm in charge of the black magic sales and demoing. Don't give me that look, I already know you want to strangle me but you couldn't do it if you had two arms, let alone three. You're a flaming hypocrite, but I'm willing to make a deal here."
"What the hell do you want? Don't tell me you're still serious about making me tutor you." Flying Hammer slowly shook his disabled arm back into its sleeve.
"Actually, no, you'll find my terms are pretty agreeable. Firstly, given Sororo's permission, I'll beat you into shape until you get your elementary-school magic down pat. As well, Grawp here doesn't have to tell any of your friends down at the Metalworks what you really do with your vacation time. In exchange though, you'll be teaching me to handle whatever weapons that you are trained with."
"You really are persistent..." Flying Hammer growled. "If that information gets out, you'll be fileted on the spot, you got that?"
"There's nothing to be afraid of if you hold up your end of the bargain."
Sororo headed back into the shop while Blitzen and Flying Hammer continued to argue. She was ready to untie the latches holding the store's front doors open when she spotted Nanono resting her head on her hands on the counter. "...is something wrong deary?"
"...I dunno... something about the arrogance in that guy's voice sounds really familiar to me."
"The Galka?"
"No, the other guy you brought in to cover black magic sales and demos."
"You thinky you know-woah him?"
Nanono left an awkward pause hanging in the air. "...like I said... beats me."
"Well that's interesting to heary, because he saidy that you looked familiar to him too! He said you just crashy-nashed into him the other day as he was leaving his house."
"Oh. That guy." Nanono sighed wearily. "Yeah, I know what he's talking about now. That was nothing, we just picked ourselves up and we were on our way. I'm not sure how he caught my face actually, I just brushed straight him and kept on going... I didn't manage to see his."
Sororo tilted her head. She stuck a finger up, pulling down one of her eyelids. "Wellllll... just between you and me, he had this hollowy look-wook in his eyes, kind of like he was trying to graspy-masp soooome lost memory and trying to figure out whether-feather it was goody or baddy..."
Nanono sulked in her chair. "That doesn't make me feel any more comfortable."
"Blitzen-Aitzen his name was."
Nanono let the name play around in her mind, and after a dramatic pause (to Sororo anyways) she gazed back into her eyes. "...doesn't ring a bell."
"Well if it doesn't now-wow it will soon!" Sororo slammed a large white tome with a red emblem on it down onto the counter. "'cause you're gonna be the besty of coworkers!"
Nanono fidgeted uncontrollably.
Volker sat perched on top of a small building several levels down in the residential sector, peering over the edge guard with a small spyglass. He watched as a moogle slipped on a ragged leather cap, hanging a sign on the door it shut behind itself before absentmindedly floating off. Volker tuned the glass in further, and made out the letters on the hanging tablet: TENANT WILL BE BACK AT 23:00. He let the ornate contraption in his hands rest against the short stone hedge in front of him, and reached back around his head to grab a white-colored linkpearl. The device hung loosely off the left side of his collar.
I was right. Given that his rent was paid for the next 4 weeks, it turns out that he only has a part-time moogle.
That's fascinating. What do you want me to do?
Get in through the sunroof in the washroom. If you try to pick the front lock he might be able to determine that someone had broken in, regardless of how well you cover your tracks when actually inside. Volker waited several minutes, idly tapping his fingers against the stone wall. Eventually he heard loud clicking and the loud clunk of the wooden-blinded panel being dislodged. Several thuds. After that, silence. Are you in...
He only has a bachelor suite. I would've never guessed from the outside. I'm not seeing anything out of the ordinary.
The black figure quickly glanced over everything in the room. Ayame slowly slid off her face mask as she relaxed again. An unmade bed and a shoddy maple taple covered in books and some loose metal bars were immediately visible. The fire in the cast-metal furnace on the far side of the room was slowly beginning to flicker to a stop, leaving only part of the room visible to the naked eye. She quickly moved about, tapping the walls and searching for hidden compartments. She eventually located two, one containing some spare gil that Blitzen had stowed away and another that contained a badly-finished photograph. She flapped in the air but still couldn't get a good view of what it was. Ayame looked over her shoulder as a glimmer of light pierced out from the darkness. She slowly began to creep towards it - and promptly tripped over a box on the floor, landing flat on her face.
Elsewhere, Blitzen drummed his fingers on the bar table. He looked over his shoulders every so often, receiving perplexed stares back from the Steaming Sheep patrons. The elvaan bartender bit her lip as her eyes met with Blitzen's, and she went back to serving a Galkan patron.
"This feels kind of awkward. What's the deal with everyo..." Blitzen turned back forward to find that Grawp was giving him the same look. "...oh, now what."
"Ah, nothing," Grawp took a sip from his drink. "I know Flying Hammer was quick to blow you off and suggest that you both begin each others' training tomorrow, but I was surprised that you wanted to come back here so quickly."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Blitzen sighed. "There's people that come in here three, maybe four times a day. They don't get the silent treatment."
"Yeah, but they didn't drink as much as you either. Do you recall what you did last night?"
Blitzen opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated for a moment. "...I had a Smokestack, and then some stuff happened, and then I walked home. I didn't get roughed up."
"That little blur in your mind? That's the part where you got five more Smokestacks. And let me tell you, the stuff about blood alcohol content having less of an impact on people of higher body mass, that's the divine truth," Grawp mumbled back. "I was concerned that you were going to get thrown out on your ass back there. You did manage to walk out relatively conscious though. Did you even get a hangover?"
Blitzen stared down at his Smokestack. "...y'know, I can't even remember what happened before noon. I just sorta drug myself out of bed, rinsed myself off and took off for lunch."
Grawp stared distastefully at Blitzen.
Blitzen shook his head. "You yourself said I wasn't terminally drunk, what could I possibly have done?"
Are you alright? Volker muttered through the linkpearl.
I'm okay... Ayame pushed herself up, planting one of her gloved hands against the carpet below - but found her other in something much softer. She fumbled on the ground for a bit, eventually managing to kneel up and lift the box up on top of the bed. She carried it closer to the fire and squinted as she stared down into it. Ayame raised an eyebrow, looking up and seeing one of the windows already broken.
What are you looking at? Volker spat.
...panties.
There's a time and place for that, Ayame.
No, really, there's an entire drawer here full of them. They appear to be Tarutaru-sized... I'm looking around and the drawer doesn't seem to be from any of the furniture in this room... do you think they could be Blitzen's? It could be useful in identifying him if we know he's a cros-
Volker meanwhile buried his face in one hand. FINE. Fine. Take the panties with you. Just make sure that you're not missing anything important...
Ayame set the drawer back down on Blitzen's bed, moving back towards the small shred of light on the other side of the room. She knelt down and ran her hand along it, quickly realizing what it was. Ayame raised her hand along it and gripped the handle of a large broadsword. She laid it down on the bed where she could examine it more thoroughly. I've found the sword you said he had been using the night before. Like you said, it's a commissioned Royal Knight sword. It has something engraved on it.
That's peculiar. I'm fairly certain that is a federal offense in San d'Oria to physically modify weapons of the kingdom. What does it happen to say?
The light here is still a little weak... Oats... Oathkeeper.
That may be all that I need. Leave for now, I will handle this.
Moments later a groggy Elvaan slumped towards the lobby of the San d'Orian consulate, shirtless and still rubbing the sleep and loose grey hair out of his green eyes as the doors threatened to blow off their hinges from Volker hammering on the other side. He reached down, fiddling with the complex locks that embraced any important government building. The knocks subsided, and the worker stepped back as Volker suddenly forced his way in.
"...oh," Leurioun muttered. "It's one of you. What's going on? Is something happening?"
"I need to ask you an urgent question about the Royal Knights' policy on commissioned weapons." Volker barked.
"...so, you decided to come here in the middle of the night to talk to me about our freaking enrollment policy? You piece of shit. Next time you try to bash your way in here this goddamn Metalworks of yours should be belching fire." Leurioun tried to slam the door, but Volker quickly forced his foot in.
"Please. I understand how inconvenient this is for you, but I need your help in investigating a San d'Orian convicted murderer. There's just some things I need to know before I can continue."
Leurioun rolled his eyes. He stuck his head out of the entrance, checking both ways down the consulate lane, before ushering Volker in. "Fine, fine. Come in. Try to make this quick, I have to be up in seven hours." he waited before Volker slumped down in one of the padded San d'Orian-crafed chairs in the lobby before shutting the door. "Alright, what the hell is it that you want now..."
"Temple and Royal Knights are issued mass-produced swords upon their inductment into either branch."
"The strongest and most durable our blacksmiths can muster."
"Tell me, what is your policy on modifications made to swords?" Volker folded his hands and let his chin rest on them.
"Well..." Leurioun scratched the back of his head. "I don't ENTIRELY know the specifics, but if any physical aspects of the sword are modified, they have to be inspected again to ensure that they're safe for use under Kingdom weapons regulations. Even if it does pass, you have to reimburse the Kingdom for the price involved in creating the sword should you be honorably or dishonorably discharged from your regiment, or if it breaks and you need another. The latter doesn't happen a whole lot, but... yeah. Magical enchantments are permitted, but again subject to testing for integrity and you need to visit a certified disenchanter if you wish to return the sword."
"These are costly weapons yes?"
Leurioun shook his head. "It'd cost me four months' wages here."
"So someone who went through the trouble of something as simple as engraving his sword would be either confident in his skills and/or intended to stay in the service for a long time."
"Sounds logical to me."
Volker glanced away. The wanted notice made no specification of Eluion's rank. This sounds odd. "Are these inspections catalogued?"
"They'd have to be," Leurioun shrugged. "Both Knight branches have tens of thousands of people, it'd be a logistical nightmare if you didn't."
"Would it be possible for you to look up the owner of a specfic sword?"
"I guess I could. But, the most recent records are in San d'Oria of course. I'm not sure if we have anything here more recent than 5 years back, but-"
"That's good enough. I'd also like a listing of all missions they have been involved in. The blade carried a physical engraving with the word OATHKEEPER."
"Here we go..." Leurioun began to dredge through the filing cabinets in the back of the small office. Several minutes passed as he casually sorted through the lists of registered modifications and cross-referenced them with practiced ease. He paused as he slowly lifed a single folder out of the endless line of them, slipping a sheet out and eyeing it. "...last recorded mission also... well, happened to be his last. He was in the Temple Knights but had only recently been appointed to the Royal Knights. He was on a recon mission in Kolshushu with a senior Royal Knight. His name was Moleinux; his senior was known on a first-name basis as Eluion."
That wasn't Eluion's sword then... "How did Moleinux die?"
"Autopsy was pretty simple." Leurioun flipped through the sheets. "Gaping wound to the back caused by a long thin blade. From the length of the fatal wound, it was determined to have been dealt by a great katana."
"And then?"
"He was brought to a private clinic in Jeuno, by then his wound had literally bled him dry."
Volker raised an eyebrow. "On foot?"
"I'm assuming."
"If only one had experience in the Temple Knight branch, and he was the one wounded, then how did he manage to limp his way to Jeuno if there wasn't any other healing magic around? He wouldn't have been able to suppress the damage himself and keep moving, or just simply heal himself on the spot... and not even the most intensely-trained white mages could feed mana into a person for an entire trip like that, so there was no way that Eluion could have supported him, which means that..." Volker flinched. "...but if Blitzen were aiding Moleinux, then that's a complete contradiction of San d'Oria's statements. Please find Eluion's records. I need to see what his death is listed as."
Leurioun rolled his eyes and slid Moleniux's folder back in. He pushed that drawer in and removed another, and unveiled another dull paper envelope. "...it says that his body was never found. I can't tell you if it was before or after Moleinux bit it, sorry."
"Something's not right here..." Volker slowly pivoted around. "There was no mention of Moleinux's death anywhere in San d'Oria's bounty records; could they have known that Blitzen was possibly HELPING them?..." Volker quickly glanced over his shoulder again. "Thank you. That will be all. I think I may have an idea of what I may be looking for."
"Yeah, yeah. Shoo already." Leurioun had already slid a long, flat key into the handle of the consulate door as Volker quickly forced his way back outside.
It may be time for a bit of negotiation, Volker mused as he strode quickly and calmly across the cobblestone.
Those steps were in perfect pace with another set of feet that tore down one of the residential subroads. Blitzen pivoted in his chair towards the door, with a spoon sticking out his mouth, barely turning his gaze in time to watch his front door get blasted off its hinges by a close-range fireball. He was thrown back against the wall, and he quickly scrambled across the floor in a desperate attempt to reach for his sword. As he did however, a surge of black light drowned him, causing his arm to go limp and hang lifelessly in the air. He grunted as he struggled to force himself forward, unable to shrug off the paralysis spell that had been slammed down on top of him in what seemed like a fraction of a second.
A regally-dressed Elvaan took slow, long strides as he entered the room, dusting off his dull crimson tabard as he came to a stop halfway between his disabled target and what remained of the heavy wood door. His green eyes opened wide and he ensured his demented toothed grin was shown before he tilted his hat down. "Blitzen-Aitzen! I charge you with obstruction of justice, the dishonor of a proud nation, and above all else - the cold-blooded murder of Sir Eluion of the Phoenix Wing of the San d'Orian Royal Knights! I, Hation, will be judge, jury and hopefully executioner in the name of my slain brother!"
"Oh, no." Blitzen spat.