The second he hits the straw mattress Braviary is sent to sleep. It is here where his troubles boiled away, becoming lost beneath The Sea of the unconscious. When he was at his most alone, even with no roof to call his own, this place always welcomed him. He can't 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.

There are no dreams here, just inked-out memories.

Something bloated rises up from beneath the sea. Huge, unlike a dream he's ever had before. The waves part, and a foreign thought enters his mind.

The boy, who is he?

He has no form here. Impulses ferment in his mind until they form into thoughts of his own - words. Whatever he says, this Thought's mockery drowns it.

You don't know? You meet a boy in liege with them, 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, don't you?"

Something horrendous tries to rise up from The Sea 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, and the abyss chokes him.

They will stay their hand! And 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 sinking further and further until a mattress catches him..

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; maybe then you'll know who you are.

The darkness is fading. He can hear sounds rippling through the murky water: doors opening and closing, a bead creaking 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 as important as you think you were, someone would know you.

A part hopes he'll wake up somewheres else, maybe 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 this office turned bedroom. Whoever put this bed here decided to leave it right next to the room's stained glass window, woe to the fool who happens to sleep in this place because they'll get a face-full of sunshine. It wasn't even a good bed! Prinn had it better on the cold hardwood floor.

His body creaks like lumber as he hauls himself out of bed, nearly dropping like a log onto the floor. Somehow, his legs keep him standing. 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's nowhere to be seen. He must've gotten up earlier and 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; guess the guild doesn't mind. Although not officially part of them yet, he's sucking up to them like a brand new recruit. Maybe they allow Prinn to stick around as an errand boy.

It's not early in the morning, nor is it noon yet, he has awoken with barely enough time for him to wander around some and ask the pokemon who work here a few things. In particular, he wants to ask what is so important about the badge - get to know what they really want other than to have shiny baubles of their own. Their guildmaster did want to hear what Braviary's badge does, it's gotta be 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 crumply hat is still on. He walks out.

Waiting for him right outside his dorm is a short 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." Roserade says, motioning to the door. "Can I do up your room now? I was told not to bother you but I haven't had my sun yet, I'm getting tired."

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 told me you got up? 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 hadn't gotten up in an 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 tighten around the broomhandle like vines. "The one day I'm not on groundskeeping my golden '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 don't care about becoming friends."

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's still standing at the doorway, stealing precious seconds away from the flower boy's day.

He gets out of his way, 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 clack in the distance. 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 can step across the foyer, the front doors swing open and two pokemon walk emerge, 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 Mienfoo yesterday and the one of today is a hoodless cloak adorned with guild colours and a restrained smile which fades the moment they set eyes on him. The pokemon accompanying the fighting-type looks to see what's got her and gives Braviary a reassuring smile, seeing Mienfoo off with a nod anda 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 about a ghost inside the 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."

Braviary shakes his paw with a tap of his wing. Lycanroc just nods, bringing no attention to the missing other.

"Callin' me Braviary is fine enough. 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 a paw to the adjacent hall. "The library's our guild's greatest asset next to its guildmates then the wine, in that order. You can find it over there."

Braviary nods, and Lycanroc bids him farewell with a friendly bow. He parts with a "See you around" before vanishing into the clangorous messhall. Dinner's about to start, he's got ten or so minutes to ask any bookworm in there about the badge before he's gotta talk to guildmaster.

The light shining through the thin curtains clad this room in a 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, artefacts, 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 this Scholar's Guild is probably known just for this.

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. Be they a custodian or someone hitting the books, he needs to find a nerd to ask a few things - anyone other than Prinn. Braviary surveys the rows of arranged desks in the center of the library; each with a stack of papers and parchment, a quill and a candlestick. He made sure there wasn't a fellow sleeping on a square of couches under the chandelier nor hiding inbetween the shelves before he shuts his eyes, then listens in.

Nothing. It's silent save for the distant ruffle of a pen against paper.

"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. Yet he can still hear it originating from a small corner hidden among the shelves. The floor creaks under him as he approaches the bookshelves.

"No, I'm just a fellow with questions."

"Ah, answers are what you want. I can point you in 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."

Now it is the second time these guild mates mention 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 stopped taking in visitors to protect their wealth. The break-in last night may have been the straw to break their backs. Interesting how they're happy to make an exception for these two idiots who moseyed up to their guild right after a breakin, one with only a badge to his name, the other a routine pest.

"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 reveals itself as a 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 black book with many tiny pieces of paper sticking out from its pages; the title of it erased by 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. The 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.

"Sorry?"

"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."

"I have orders? 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. 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 split second, as she instantly regains her composure.

"Every one of us goes through a period where we perform a short job for the guild to see if we have merit." She motions at herself. "The forward payment goes to me who handles all the bookwork, and who commissions everyone's equipment. If you were to join us, badge or not, you'll be put through the same test as anyone else."

Her takedown is swift, her words like a knife. She knows what to say.

"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. Like an impenetrable barrier of guild policy, his badge shields him from them asking him to join, 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'll play along, he won't like it, but Prinn 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." She answers." You're not required to help with the investigation but I assume you will, right?"

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 if to feel offended, or grateful.

"Wouldn't say no to the boy." Braviary huffs. "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's got infinite time, right? Spending half an hour answering a confused bird won't put a dent in her productivity. What grand mystery is he going to throw on the table 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. Her glare plunges into his soul then resurfaces to say "wow, this bird's as clueless as he seems". She, like Prinn, is seemingly trying to unravel him.

"Every renowned Guild and 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. "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 rumours wrapped up in guild secrets. We hope by discovering what yours does it'll point us in the right direction," she blinks, "although it may always 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 black 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. The one nugget of information they desire eludes the guild like a curse, either everyone here is remarkably unlucky, or somebody doesn't want them to know this.

Perhaps the search for a functioning badge are the growing pains of a Guild trying to put their name in the history books - lke the test they're putting 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 his badge had an ability already, stupid.

"That's something." Braviary mumbles.

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 may as well own this library with the amount of time I've put into his collection. 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 this. "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 backs away from the 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 waste the energy. If you insist on looking into it I can see if anything about a Braviary with your garments, but I can't make any promises."

"If something does, I'll have Roserade go looking for you. 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 garden overnight. "I take it he's not always that way?"

"No, he never used to be so 'sour'." She uses Braviary's words. "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. Rosderade is complicated."

What's this sudden smell? It's not the scent of food from down the hall - this one smells so foul he can nearly taste the bitterness in it. Could it be this place reeks of dysfunction or is he simply looking for any excuse to stay away?

Before he can go down another narrow path of belligerent, the beckoning call of a dinner bell chimes through the guild. 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 am certain."

He thinks of scurrying down the hall, then stops himself.

"Might 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, transforming these otherwise difficult berries into a warm crunchy snack. Goes well with bland old leaves. He got a 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. His stomach begs him to make the detour, but now wasn't the time, not while Guildmaster waits for him.

After one tap of his talons, the oak door upstairs 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 usual. He looks once at the Braviary in the door, then shies way 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." Rattata speaks. "While you were sleeping in 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 I am thankful for your help in the initial investigation, I just need to know a few things from you."

Braviary exhales 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, not in front of somebody who held the keys to his bed and to Prinn's future. If he's gonna be the semi-official, far more experienced side-kick to Prinn's mystery-hunting, then he's gotta 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 the one who wants to be made aware." Braviary shrugs. "Why don't you start asking?"

That might've come off as rude, but it didn't phase Rattata.

"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. So I sent you off early, and instead 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 so, she couldn't find any guild which has a badge similar to yours." The puny leader leans forward. "Does the badge have an associated guild? Where is it, and are you or have you ever been part of them?"

He doesn'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/ "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 organisation 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 like trying to look into swampwater. Everything beyond waking up on the beach is a bog of vague explorations in nondescript places and a terrible sinking sensation looming over all of it. He's not even sure he was an explorer. His muscle memory, experience, and general wisdom all band together to remind him he could not have gotten them elsewhere. So where else could his wing have gone? Did he lose it exploring? Why would he have so much scorn for guildies if he wasn't one himself at one point?

He needs some help here, so he looks to Prinn. The kid shuffles in his seat, then says something.

"Maybe he's from somewhere across The 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." Braviary takes 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." Rattata's beady eyes judge him silently. Guildmaster sighs. "Are you opposed to doing work in any capacity?"

Braviary gestures at Prinn. "My partner here isn't."

"He and I have been working together as long as we know each other." Braviary continues. "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. 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 to the scary bird?

Prinn says nothing.

"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," Braviary reiterates "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, but I don't have a badge either so we should be okay?"

"You would be correct."

Guildmaster takes a deep breath, replacing the note in his hands for another scrap of paper near his feet. One pre-planned proposition swapping for the other/

"There's no written law forbidding me from recruiting someone from another guild; there are, however, gentlemanly agreements. I don't want to burden my guild members by starting trouble with another guild."

"Now, onto what you're surely waiting for." 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 is 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." Rattata flashes a smirk. "This payment will only be provided once the investigation has surfaced substantial evidence pointing to a suspect, at least enough to form a bounty. This is a three day job starting, and you can sleep here for the time being."

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. Braviary speaks up.

"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, assuming this initial dive won't turn up miracles. "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 just going into a town to ask some questions, I wouldn't send someone as new as you out to get pulverised by bandits."

Prinn nods, Braviary takes a deep breath.

This was never his choice to begin with, but Braviary thinks he is in a more favorable place than if a tired Braviary had agreed to something stupid late last night. He'll see what's gotten this kid all shaken up when they're out of here, all he's waiting for now is his queue and a bite before he leaves. He gets both when Guildmaster waves.

"You are both dismissed."