Who in their right mind builds a manor this far out?

It had to have required an astronomical level of work, forests needed cutting, giant walls needed erecting. Somebody did all of this work then that somebody – providing they aren't the Guildmaster themselves, has to pay the colossal debt he accrued in his bid to build his dream guild. Perhaps they call themselves a "Scholar's Guild" to make the owner believe their very not scholar-like line of work was worthy of investment so they can pay off the colossal debt. Braviary wouldn't put it past a guild owner.

A gibbous moon hangs overhead, and cool wind breezes through the evergreen trees. Two pokemon walk along a tight winding path through the dense forest, the only thing leading them to their destination was the occasional tree marked off in the bright golden paint said to signify the guild.

If a fear of bandits wasn't at the back of the Braviary's mind he may be able to enjoy a brisk night jog through the woods. Prinn's little hand lantern is like an invitation for anyone lurking around to steal from the idiots all by themselves in the wilderness.

This was supposed to be a quick walk, no more than half an hour getting there, then another half getting back in time to find a bunk at Golduck's place to crash for the evening. Prinn has been leading him down dark paths for what feels like an hour. The woods are dead silent, filled with the sound of gravel crunching below them and the sloshing of a wine bottle.

They pass by another marked tree as Prinn comes to a sudden stop. Up ahead, the trees lining the road slowly broaden. A square shadow looms among the treetops.

"This is the place." Prinn squeaks quietly.

"Are you sure? For all I know there could be dozens of mysterious manors out here, and we've found the one chock-full of ghosts."

Prinn shines the lantern in Braviary's face, all he can see is Prinn's bulging eyes.

"No, there's only one mansion out here, okay?" Prinn stutters, "and it's not full of ghosts! It's run by a dark-type and he's probably able to handle them, I think."

"I'm sure he does." Braviary takes a swig from his bottle.

"Anyways, the gates should be up there somewhere. They'll probably see us from the window, and send someone over. Then everything will go like I said it'll go, then I'll see you get somewhere to relax in Sc-

"Tell me the plan again."

Prinn was furious. His cheeks get puffy like he is ready to explode at the old man for having not asked in the two or three hours until now. The boy's future is at stake, but Braviary simply does not care.

Braviary does not let him speak, instead chugging his bottle then throwing it off into the forest where it hits a root somewhere with a satisfying plonk.

Now with nothing to distract him, Prinn takes a deep breath.

"It should be very easy. As much as I'd want a badge like yours, I'm not going to take it from you. They might ask to look at it and touch it for a second, but I'm sure they'll understand that taking it from you is going to be a really bad idea. You just need to be there with me and uhh...tell them how it works."

"All you want me is to stand there looking pretty, answering some questions, right?

"And don't forget to put a good word or two in there for me, okay?"

Braviary sighs.

"Sure, kid."

This late the entire night the manor was empty, not a soul in its halls, not a sound but leaves rapping against the windows. The only person awake at this dead hour was the Guildmaster, who alongside his usual duties of running the guild, was also its night watch since nobody was ever going to stay up as late as the dark-type. And if anything strange did happen overnight, they would all hear it come morning.

Moonlight peeks into a circular window and through the smoke of a snuffed out candle. Cheap lavender incense hides the stench of the old parchments strewn across the room's tiny desk, across from which is a pokemon lying face-first on their bed; his brush tail slumping on the floor. The Smeargle snores into the night, peacefully enjoying his romp into dreamland. Blissfully unaware of the sound of his dorm slowly being opened.

Two beady eyes peek into the room. The gremlin-like creature shoves its nose inside to sniff the air, then steps in without so much as a squeak. They traipse across the rickety floor in a silent dance all the way to the pokemon's bed where they stand high on the tips of their toes, and raise a hand above the Smeargle's head.

Then boom, it comes down like a mallet, slapping the poor Smeargle awake.

He yelps, tumbling onto cold floor. He opens his eyes to see his assailant looming on his bed - his tiny Guildmaster, Rattata.

Before he can get out a peep, Rattata's stache bristles and he shushes him with a tiny finger.

"Don't you wake your guildmates, now. Grab something warm, and follow me. It's cold out there."

Rattata scuttles to the door as the Smeargle gets his bearings. He grabs the only thing on hand: a drab cloak which had been waterproofed with Combee wax, and a green cap which goes over his hat-shaped head.

He drags his tail out the door, and Rattata closes it with a ruler they used to prop the door.

"Come now, we need you out there." Rattata whispers, and Smeargle follows.

"I know you'll tell me what's up, but why wake me like that?"

They pass by several identical doors down a carpeted corridor, and take sharp right which leads into a large foyer. Two staircases curve upwards to a second-floor balcony which overlooks the huge doors leading outside. The doors, flanked by two lit candelabras were the only way in and out of the guild once they locked down for the night. Given their guildmaster's reputation of being the closest thing to a Noctowl a rodent can be, strange things don't happen when he's working late.

"If I did anything else to wake you, people may have heard it, and those guildmates would be quite worried."

"Yeah, alright. I'm sure nobody heard the sound of someone falling on their face."

Rattata huffs. He skitters to atop a tower of tombs near the mail slot.. He hikes up the paper mountain to survey the great outdoors.

"Any reason why you picked me?"

Without looking the Guildmaster digs into the tuft of dark fur on their chest and produces a small, white die. He tosses it behind him while he stares out the mail slot, it lands on the floor on a side with three deep scratch marks.

Smeargle picks up the die, examining it more carefully. It seems to be made of rather old bone, so old indeed that the scratches on each side of it are a pristine white while the rest was a muddy beige. How he came by this was unknown, it's a story he'd ask about some other time. He hands it back, crossing his arms.

"Are you done asking questions?" Rattata asks pointedly

"For now."

Rattata turns away from the mail slot, climbing down, and stuffing his dice back into his tuft. When he's finished he sighs.

"I looked out the window a little bit under an hour ago, so it was right around the same time I woke when I saw it: the door to our stores was open. I thought I might have to take one of our guildmates' lunch away for forgetting to lockup, but the more I looked at the stores from my second floor, the more things seemed off."

He brings a hand up to his chin, scratching his whiskers.

"It seems as though we weren't missing any barrels, and the garden didn't appear to be ransacked - Roserade would have a tantrum. No pokemon around these parts could jump the fence, so it may have been a flying type, and even then I'm not too sure."

"I decided to keep an eye on it just in the event they came back to finish their job. I gave it an hour, but nobody came. You're going out to solve this conundrum while I go back to work.

No signs of damage, possible thievery, either they were dealing with somebody smart here or one fellow just forgot to lock the doors tonight. Given the Enigma Wine was a good source for many of the guild's funds not to mention it was used in the guild's initiations. If a group of miscreants wants to get at the guild or make some good coin, then their stores are a good place to strike.

Even in the world where Rattata is completely wrong about this, staying in the Guildmaster's good graces is wise. Rattata takes the guild's finances seriously so they didn't have to, so any possible break-in had to be treated with the same gravity as a missing guild-mate.

Smeargle nods.

"You're to go out there and assess the damage. I'm trusting this job to you alone because I don't want my guild up in arms this late. As guild members we all have a reputation to uphold, and nobody wants to hire a guild that can't even protect itself from being robbed."

"Sure, Guildmaster."

The Rattata leaps up, grabbing onto the deadbolt and letting his weight pull it open..

"I'll be in my office sorting through tomorrow's job submissions." He lands, raising his nose at the Smeargle. "If anything odd happens, I'll know."

Smeargle gives the little master a bow, and he bows back before scurrying down his tower of books. His little feet clatter against the stone floor then upstairs. The Smeargle shuffles the tower to the side with his foot, opens the door and steps out into the night.

Above the clouds, a half-moon looms overhead. A gentle, constant breeze brushes through the pokemon's chestnut fur and the air carries with it the smell of the surrounding pines. The Smeargle may not have the uncanny eyesight of the guild master, but he does have a few tricks up his own. He grabs his tail, and gives it a good few shakes. It sparks, then lights their surroundings with a bright yellow glow.

He wields the impromptu torch in his hand, briefly shining it across the manor's courtyard. It's pitch black outside, he can barely see past the hedges and make out the outlines of the iron fencing, but anything beyond his Tail Glow may as well be invisible. Smeargle goes down the two steps before the manor's doors then makes a bee-line through the grass to the gardens west of the guild.

Before rounding the corner he hears a clattering sound. He shines it ahead only to see the garden's vibrant yellow and white tulips, then behind him, towards the guild's gates.

Another rattle. It sounds like chains. The thought of catching someone in the act crosses his mind. Smeargle turns himself around as he heads straight to the guild's iron gates. The closer he gets, the more those chains rattle and rattle until they suddenly stop when approaches. He raises up his shining tail to look beyond the iron gates.

And behind them is this dishevelled looking flying type missing one wing and wearing a combo of a dingy poncho and hat. He smells like seawater.

For what seems like a good, long minute the pokemon glare without the other making a move, getting a good long look at each other. It was hard to tell the flying-type behind the bars was a Braviary, he looks so miserable.

"Well this isn't how I'd picture meeting y'all." The feathered fellow speaks. "What's your name?"

"Smeargle."

Smeargle's non-answer was the nicest way of saying they weren't exactly up to chatting right now. Braviary gets the message.

"Okay, Smeargle."

"You don't look like any pokemon I know." Smeargle squints at him, "I'm going to guess your name's Braviary, and we'll leave it at that for a bit. What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to visit your guild until this door" Braviary nudges the gate, "got in the way of my visit. I'm sorry if it's at this ghastly hour, but I was told to head this way as soon as I can."

"By who?"

"Little fellow, Prinn."

Now that was a name which rang a bell. Prinn was someone who has been trying to apply here for a while, Guildmaster just hasn't decided whether or not his skillset was all that worth it, or so he says. Prinn really made himself known around the guild just by being so persistent.

"I'm familiar, he's a Prinplup right?" Smeargle speaks. "You can go back there and tell him he'll have to wait until tomorrow, because now's really not a good time to knock on our doors."

Braviary tilted his head, "Why's that?"

"Other than the fact it's nearing midnight..."

Smeargle trails off, as if though he just now remembers the guild has a reputation to keep, that he probably shouldn't tell random vagrants they got broken into. Smeargle suddenly has an idea.

"Did Prinn follow you here?"

Braviary falls quiet for a brief moment as he weighs his two options, clenching his beak in a show of obvious contemplation. It became less about endangering the boy's chances in the guild, rather whether or not he wanted to bother them all with the return of a frequent blue pest.

Braviary shrugs.

"Hey Smeargle." He pipes up. "Wouldn't it be pretty embarrassing to send a stranger to go speak for you and not even show up? Wouldn't it even be more shameful if you were just hiding in a bush? Sounds pretty stupid, right? I can't imagine any fellow I know doing something like that."

A shrub of oran berries shakes and breathes an exaggerated sigh as Prinn emerges from its leaves, bearing a look which would kill a person if it came from a pokemon twice his size. He puffs up his cheeks, and crosses his arms. When he realizes neither of the pokemon would take him seriously looking like a mad torchic, he slumps over, a dejected little Prinplup.

"You said you'd follow the plan." Prinn laments.

"I did follow the plan, I introduced myself first just like you said I would. I ain't responsible for sudden changes in it - a guildie's gotta learn to adapt." He clears his throat and looks back at the Smeargle. "Now that we're both here and willing to talk, do you have anything you'd like to say to both of us before we make our leave?"

"Wait right here."

Smeargle turns around and hurriedly walks to whence they came. The two watch the pokemon's glowing tail travel down the dirt path into a huge set of doors, then return minutes later as he comes dashing back to the gates. He immediately opens the gate with a big silver key.

"Just that easy, eh?" Braviary chuckles. "Thanks mister Smeargle."

"It's Leon." Smeargle answers.

The moment they step past the gate, he quickly locks it shut. With nowhere to really pocket the key, he stuffs it under his cap to free up his hands.

"Don't think this is an invitation to our guild." His tail points at Prinn. "I'm not supposed to let anyone through here, but I got a job for both of you if you wanna help take a load off my shoulders."

"What kinda job?" Prinn pipes up, "I can do calligraphy, I can make some maps for you, I know my way around-"

"Nothing like that."

"Oh..."

"We've just had a break in, we don't really know when but given nobody had reported it I'd have to say it either happened right after our nightly briefing, or sometime right before the guild master got up. They targeted our stores of Enigma Wine, Prinn can tell you just how important that is."

"Yeup" Prinn answers with a smile, "And you're the only people who make that stuff around here, right? Guild secrets."

"Correct." Leon nods, refusing to look Prinn's way, "Luckily for us, we got a pretty solid lock-up schedule here. It's the stores first, Library second, then an hour after both we shut down the whole guild for the night. Either they messed up, or they didn't account for our guild master being a perfectionist. He knew instantly."

"How so?" Braviary asks.

"He has a pretty good view of the storehouse. I have no doubt he watches us close shop from up there. He probably knew things weren't right the moment he looked outside after getting up." Leon shrugs. "Or maybe he has a sixth sense for these things, I don't know. I can trust he's not going to start pointing fingers at his own guild until he's sure it's one of us who let this happen."

"What if it just so happens it was one of y'all's mistakes which allowed someone to snatch up your wine? What's your Guildmaster gonna do then?"

"Depending on how he's feeling, he can either cut you out from the guild, slash your pay, or he'll just not feed you lunches for a day or two and have you eat old bread." The thought makes Leon shudder, "I never actually saw him get angry before, he just usually tells pokemon what their punishments are then gets really quiet with said pokemon in particular."

Braviary huffs, and brushes his poncho off.

"Sounds like the same guild song and dance I've heard a dozen times before. I'm going to wager a good guess by saying the reason y'all are so afraid of him is because this guild's the only roof you have over your head, or you're afraid to lose all your friends from here, or that there's no other jobs for miles around which supports your specialty."

Where did that come from? One second it's all howdy, then it's guildie-targeted vitriol. Who is this guy? Leon blinks.

"You'd be correct," Leon lets him feel smart, "but our Guildmaster values our reputation too much to let his guild-mates suffer on his watch. I'm sure it's one of the reasons why the vetting process here is so strict."

A slimy smile temporarily spreads across Braviary's beak, then it is instantly back to business.

"So this job..." Braviary folds his wing across his chest, "...you know how much we gettin' paid?"

"I said nothing about paying you myself. We'd have to talk it through with the Guildmaster, but given how much Prinn comes here begging for us to let him in, a chance for some semi-official work for the guild's probably enough pay in itself."

"Ain't gonna do." Bravairy scoffs. "I have no interest in being buddies with your guild here. How do you reckon coin sounds, maybe a bottle or two of your guild's fancy brew?"

"The thought of you trying to join us hadn't crossed my mind. It seems like you're already part of something." Leon gestures to the diamond-shaped brass badge keeping the bird's poncho together, "I haven't seen anything close to that badge in particular. Basic guild knowledge tells me your guild's bound to be pretty big to have badges like those, or you're some big Honchkrow somewhere real far from here. It'd be ignorant of me to offer you a place here."

"I don't mean to judge you based on your appearances, but you do have a certain look about you that tells me you can do with a good bed and some decent food." Leon squints. "That's not nearly as hard to get the guild master to dole out. He may even pay you both as a bonus, but I can't promise that."

The bird's quiet, eyes peeking back and forth like some predator observing his surroundings. He's weighing his options, obviously, but the promise of a quick roof over his head is doing its magic. And needless to say, Prinn's probably on board.

"Aight. I can do without sleeping in this spooky forest. Count me in."

"C-Count me in too!"

As though they didn't already know Prinn's answer.