A Priest With a Mission - Harkness Street

The events that occurred earlier at this location, were rather heretical and blasphemous. As such, the Church was rather quick in sending over a young priest and priestess to check on the condition of the individuals there, in order to make sure none of them were mentally or spiritually ravaged by this heresy, alongside of course, engaging in charity for the sake of the community as usual. Today it'd be killing two birds with one stone, so to speak, at the least both operations could occur simultaneously with ease. The priest was an average looking man, brown hair, brown eyes, standing at five feet and eight inches, and was dressed in a pair of priestly vestments, which were bright white and trimmed with gold. He brushed aside a loose bang that on his forehead, as he glanced down at a crowd assembled before him.

They were in fairly poor conditions, many were emaciated and caked in sludge. The priest stood in-front of a bench, which he had established and had many loafs of bread laid upon it. The priestess was currently cutting into a new loaf, and offered a piece of it to the grimy woman who was in the line, with a young boy holding onto her arm. They took the loaf pieces, "T-thank you." said the peasant woman.

The woman gave a nod, "May Pelor's Light shine fortune in your way." said the Priestess. The Priest gave a nod, "The least we can do for the community." as he offered a small smile. Well and we need to root out the heresy and sin that taints our fair community.

Anya was silent for a second as she stepped back and let her father continue working. She didn't want to bother him with too much hugs, after all. Then it occurred to her that everyone loved hugs, and it probably didn't interrupt cleaning much, so she stepped forward and started hugging again anyways.

"Actually, papa, I haven't seen mister Elric all day. That... that man that was in here said he was sick though. Maybe he was lying? He wanted red fingerpaints and books about knights, but I used all the fingerpaints. And one of the books he wanted. But it was really good art; wanna see?"

"A book... about knights?" James sat up.

It couldn't be... He was looking for that!
"Anya, show me what he was looking for, exactly. I think it might be important." James said, standing up.

Interrogation of Mimsy

Why couldn't they give me someone who wasn't daft and was easily afraid of torture!? The Gnome thought to himself as he paces the chamber, while he picked up his chain with meat-hooks. The Gnome walked up to the subdued Mimsy as he glanced at him. "You were spotted earlier by the Guardsman Ferris, and various citizens capturing and taking a subdued Elric, while under the orde-"

Mimsy spoke up, "Boss!" The Gnome glared at Mimsy, "Yes. Why did you target this individual." Mimsy answered without skipping a beat, "Because Boss said so!" The Gnome paused as he walked around behind Mimsy and glanced at his left palm as he delved the hook deep within its flesh, as the wound began dripping with blood. "More specific... Now- Why aren't you screaming?" The Gnome asked rather annoyed, his baritone voice reaching a cracking point.

Mimsy paused for a moment before answering, "Because when I was a boy, Ma would say to show strength in the face of danger! And Boss encouraged that! ...So! While it does hurt a lot, and I mean it gives lots of ouchies, I can't show uh, fear."

The Gnome's face contorted into a devilish grin. Well I suppose if he broke I wouldn't have a good plaything. The Gnome chuckled, "Oh good, I now have a motivation to get past your idiocy. Because, whenever I encounter someone who willingly suppresses their own fear, all I see is a new toy for me that I haven't broken."

Mimsy paused as the Gnome delved the hook in deeper as it now scrapped against the bones within. "That sounds mean." The Gnome cackled, "Kids are cruel, and I am very in touch with my inner child. So to speak."

Tirarian entered her friends manor. The design was lovely, and she had a soft spot for red wood floors. From the manors she had 'visited' before, this one looked fairly middle class, and Elric had likely bought it, instead of inheriting it. Indeed, being a surgeon was a lucrative business, this building wouldn't be beyond his funding.

A glance at the paintings on the walls brought a shudder to the gnome. She had always hated disease, and something about the beaked mask was highly unsettling. Why by all the gods would you have such a painting on the walls? Tirarian became acutely aware of the fact this was a glimpse of her friend behind the sly smile and the quick razor. She looked at the floors again, in a different light, red wood would cover up a lot of mess...

She hid her discomfort beneath pleasant conversation, though she had no doubt a man like Elric would miss such a detail in her voice, as much as she tried to hide it. "How long have you had this place?"

Within the Manor Hall

"Oh." Elric said keeping a polite and casual tone to his voice. "At the precise moment, I can not recall exactly for how long I've had these lodgings for. I tend not to dwell on it. Rather, I keep my mind focused on the pursuit of my work." He said, as he glanced at one of the paintings in the hall.

It was a dark environment that the painted Plague Doctor was in, his white mask with a downward curved beak stood out against the purple skies, and the blackened trees, and the rotting fields below, and engaging with a patient that was covered in a variety of tumors, with their head being a blob of misshaped flesh. Elric gave a soft smile as he looked upon it, "Ah, but yes, I must welcome you to my manor. I do hope you are enjoying what you have seen so far." He paused as he griped onto the box and book harder, "I truly do need to send out the missive to the knight and his child... Along with other activities and such I will need to do."

"We never found the book," replied Anya, "But he said it was called 'Sir Jerry' with some numbers on the end. He also took a green box, and really wanted the fingerpaints I used."

Anya retrieved the empty fingerpaints bottle and showed it to her father, before something terrible occurred to her.

"You don't think... mister Elric's bad friend was stealing?" asked Anya, her eyes widening. Stealing was bad. If that man was stealing from mister Elric, not only was he not a very good friend, but he was a stealer.

"Sir Jerry.... Surgery?" James asked, taking the bottle.

"Surgery, surgery..." he got up, and ran his finger along the bookshelf, along the things he'd removed from the trunk, and in and under the desk.
"If he was stealing, we should make sure it's still here for Elric, right? Besides, I want to see what it was." he explained.

Elric's Shoppe

Well from the trunk he noticed a few books, mixed alongside other adult novels that could potentially fit the bill, though none of them mentioned surgery directly. But they were anatomical books. Underneath the desk he noticed a small slot which seemed to have a book inside, though the spine was facing inward, only showing the series of pages within it.

“I never said I was from here, and as far as ‘here’ goes, I haven’t had any issues. Even met a nice elven woman earlier.” she interjected briefly, her voice trailing off as he continued.

"But how do you see me?" It was put to her as a test and Corvus made no attempts to hide that. "If I can see right through you, I wonder if you can do the same to me. Perhaps we are just open people, or know each other particularly well. Tell me what you think of me."

She scrunched her nose at the question posed. “You seem to be a bit of a perfectionist, though that may be a bit strong of a word, but that's what makes you come off as pompous. You know how things should be, perhaps, but you like when things are that certain way, and that is that. While you may not show it, I can see in your eyes that you've known loss. Whether it was a big deal to you or not, your past is not without some … broken pieces. In ‘that’, you and I are similar. You’re smart enough to access a situation before diving head in on impulse. You’re careful, calculating, knowledgeable, educated, sounds like from experience as well as formal training. From the looks of you, you’re well traveled, and not a stranger to battle. Though I haven’t seen you in combat, I’d hope that you’re not all talk and that you actually know what you’re doing. But you also seem to either enjoy the sound of your own voice, and or giving unsolicited advice, passing on your wisdom.” She ended with a flourish wave of her hands. There was a sense of sass and wit in her words, but all in all they were genuine, and this was just her. “I didn't play a bad hand, perhaps I overplayed my hand at first, but I knew enough to muck it in and just shut up and follow. So I’d like to think that while I am impulsive and impatient at times, I am smart enough in dire times, to avoid death. I am an amateur, and I do have a lot to learn. But life, being what it has been, has forced me to learn as I go. You ever think that maybe you had a head start, or traveled a slightly different or better path?” With this, she lifted a brow, peeking out at him from under her hood.

At this point she was walking side by side with him, keeping pace. “I was being slightly sarcastic when I said that you see right through me. However, you were right with a lot of things. Perhaps we are very open, or maybe it is that we know each other particularly well. You do remind me a lot of someone I knew once. But I also know that what each of us has seen is only a part of the whole. We each can get better, can be more, but at the same time, what we've presented, what we've both seen was not our best. For one, I have yet to see you use that thing” she pointed to his sword, “other than to threaten me or … pursue your quest of questioning me until I yielded to your superiority” she chortles softly, humor being her shield, her words coated with a thin layer of sarcasm.

"Whup, found something." James said, removing the book from its slot.
He peeled back the cover, and began to skim its contents. Whatever this book had, it was probably important.

Anya didn't know why people kept getting confused by Sir Jerry's name, but they did. Maybe it was an odd name for a knight? 'Jerry' didn't sound very heroic, but having a name like that probably only made him want to be the most heroic hero of all. Too bad he would never beat her papa, who was the best and strongest and most heroic forever.

Anyways, her dad really seemed to want this book so Anya walked around the room and started looking for it too. Since he was back, her father probably wanted to read it to her really badly. Anya, of course, wanted to be read to. Also it would be good if they made sure it wasn't stolen; mister Elric would probably be really thankful that they checked, and give them candies.

"Did you find Sir Jerry?" asked Anya excitedly when her father spoke up. It was story time.

Elric's Shoppe

And so James easily took the book, and opened the book and began skimming through it. As he looked in the book, he saw various anatomical figures, in various poses, it surely looked like a book dedicated to the surgical arts. However, if he was reading the words alongside it he would see such gems as...
'Why are you reading this?'
'Note to self: Writing Nonsense in this Book is fun.'
'... So lonely....'
'... Oh so lonely....'
'You must be wasting your time if you are looking in this book?'
'Idea for a mischievous prank: Make a book seem important, that looks just like the other books, but fill it in with materials that are essentially useless.'
'... You know the rules and so do I.'
'How long will this go on for?'
'Never going to give you up, never going to let you down.'

... and so forth. It appeared that this was not the book of importance, the Surgery Book that the intruder so desperately wanted.

"A good analysis, lass, but I have to disagree with one or two points. I'm not a perfectionist, I just like to do things honourably. Never stab a man in the back, give people chances to explain themselves, offer a fair challenge. I like doing things honourably and I'd prefer if my foes and allies did the same. Once you break the rules of engagement, you have no honour and thus are not a worthy foe, or my ally. And I don't normally talk this much - it's just I'm used to training novices and recruits. You, my dear girl, have the potential to do well, so my inner 'drill sergeant' is surfacing. You should take that as a compliment."

"But you are right. There is pain in my past. Lot's of death, lots of blood and a betrayal that I still can't quite figure out the motive for. I was trained to survive, then I was trained to fight. I've been through tough scrapes, hard battles. But I don't think I've ever done something I should be ashamed of. Don't get me wrong, if I could change the past, there are hundreds of alterations I'd love to make, but frankly, at the time there was nothing I could do. Perhaps, you and I are kindred souls. Maybe we were destined to meet."

"I'm not entirely sure I understand the question. Looking back, most people would say I had a crap childhood. I never knew my mum or dad, just my brother. I lived on the streets, scavenged and stole to survive. But at the time, I thought it was the high life. I laughed at the nancy boys on their way to schools and tutors. I was much closer to my friends than any of them ever were. I knew, no matter what I did, at least someone would have my back. My story is one of a great many, each with their own minor alterations. I was just lucky I made the right decisions at the right time. I should really be dead by now. But I ain't, and for that, I'm thankful."

Corvus smiled, looking at the girl to his side. "Oh? Is that a challenge? That's a shame, miss, because whilst you haven't really seen my abilities and proficiencies, I have seen yours. Tell you what, when you get your blade back from whoever happens to be repairing it, I'll show you first-hand my fighting skills."

"....Fuck." James said, closing the book.
"It's some kind of anatomical guide. Nothing of note." he told Anya. Whatever book that man was looking for was well hidden, more so than the bottle, if Anya could find it. Unless....

"Anya, you sniffed out this fingerpaint, right? Think you can help me find that book?" he asked.

Anya's eyes widened as her papa said the bad word. She knew that adults could say it and not children, but she always wondered why. What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Maybe it was some sort of magic adult-only word that grown ups said when something bad happened to make them feel better, and it didn't have any actual definition.

One thing was for sure, though. It sounded really funny and Anya wanted to say it.

But first, she had to help her papa.

"I think most books smell the same, papa," said Anya, "But I could help look. Though I already looked a lot and never found any 'Sir Jerry'."

She cackles softly, and cannot help but grin. "It was not a challenge, but I'd be honored to see first hand your combat skills.” she dipped her head slightly in appreciation of the gesture. “And on the earlier note, as I said, you know how things should be. You operate on a basis of honor, and you prefer it when things are done just like that, just as I said." she chortles softly. As far as my query, which I suppose wasn't really meant to be answered, your story more or less mirrors my own, though you had the opportunity to be trained, a professional warrior ... I on the other hand, well, the choices I made gave me no such wonders.”

“As rumors went, I was the bastard child of an Elven priestess and her human lover. Why they decided to discard me, I haven’t the slightest idea other than the world is a cold and cruel place.” Her voice grew slightly colder, but there was a distant look in her eyes, she pulled a small locket out from under her shirt and idly fiddled with it as she spoke. Reminiscing over the past wasn't a particularly favored past time. “Where I grew up, I had no one on my side, especially not the priests or paladins who I often disappointed. But I suppose it had its perks at times. While living with your back pressed up against the wall often left you stiff, awkward and lonely, you never had to worry about someone stabbing it, or whether or not someone would have it in your time of need.” Her posture stiffened slightly, finally letting go of the locket dangling around her neck, she dug her hands into the pockets of her vesture and shrugged softly.

“Sometimes, I’d just like to stab fate in the eyes” her lips curl into a small smirk, humor once more curbing the depressing story of her past, “having just gotten used to the solace of solitude, and here comes destiny, sweeping in with someone I just ‘have’ to meet” she chortles softly, side glancing in his direction.

Tirarian raised an eyebrow. "Other activities?" She waved it off, "Have you any idea how to get that box open? I think you do, or at least you must be keeping hold of it for a reason."
Tirarian hung up her coat and satchels, taking care with the latter and pocketing a spare bomb, she wasn't going to be caught off guard this time. "What time is it?" Tirarian shouted off towards Elric as he scurried away into his home

Elric's Manor

Elric's grip tightened on the box. He smiled, "Oh no I have absolutely no idea how to open a box like this. ...But yes if you must know, I am quite capable of opening it." He said as his face contorted into a wheeze as he began huffing out. Elric glanced back at Tirarian, "Why, is it night already? Most peculiar, well I shall return to my shop..." He wheezed again, "In the morning."

---

Elric's Shoppe

Anya knew much of books, or it was a lucky guess, but many books do smell similar. This would be a problem in finding this strange and illusive book upon surgeries. Unless there was some strange and noticeable clue, such as a faint odor, which smelled like the 'fingerpaints' below the floorboard right under the chair next to the desk.