Closed The Detective Konrath(Estrellir)

[Roscoe]

10th of Summer, 514 AV Roscoe puffed gently but frequently on his pipe as he paced slowly through the city of Kenash. Normally he would have stopped to admire the views of the Suvan, the brilliant reflections of the sun gleaming off of the crisp, cool, blue waters. The beautiful women in their elegant yet practical dresses, navigating the river city with a certain poise that defined them as dynasty women- and the men, scoffing as he walked around in his brown and white, breaking the rules of their fashions. He might have seen birds flying through the sky, sweeping and swooping into fantastic patterns and groupings as they navigated the invisible airways that guided them. He likely would have stopped to have himself a refreshing, invigorating glass of Kenashian Rum, or perhaps enjoyed a meat sandwich from Rarity Butcher’s. He would have made his now regular stop at Towery’s to enjoy a quick game of dice, or maybe popped into the Illumination theater to enjoy one of the off-day shows that always felt so underpriced. But no. None of those things caught his eyes today. He continued to gently puff on his pipe, trying to keep his stress levels low as he moved through the town, heading to Fire Island. He was wary today, more wary than he had been in a very long time. He had been in Kenash not even a full month now, and already characteristic misfortune seemed to be following him. Several Draer stores were robbed of massive quantities of goods two days prior. He knew that they didn’t know who did it. He knew that they couldn’t make a certain connection yet. But he wasn’t a fool. Some of the dynasty men had given him looks, looks that suggested they thought they knew more than than really did know. Looks that dared Roscoe to give them the chance they were waiting for. He recognized the strategy- he had seen it work in Sunberth. Wait until a new guy shows up on the scene, then start working your crimes. Everyone suspects the new guy. Everyone will go after the scapegoat. He knew he hadn’t done these crimes or even had a hand in them. His employers had been exceedingly gracious to him and he had no intention of spurning that grace. But that needed to be proven. Normally, Ros wouldn’t have any issues at all with doing the footwork on a situation like this. But Kenash was different. If you weren’t born here, doors were not opened to you. Information was not available and even the smallest gossip was at a premium when you lived at the bottom. He knew he needed help from someone with a foot in the door, and someone who would actually help him at that. The Draer’s he knew couldn’t be relied on for that. He knew nobody else. That was when his thoughts turned to a conversation he’d heard a few days earlier, about some Konti detective named… Was it Konrath? Apparently she gathered information and solved problems like this in exchange for Miza’s. He didn’t have bottomless pockets, but his continued survival, and at least his status as a non-slave, was on the line. That was worth money. Eventually he had made his way to Fire Island, and spotted what he suspected was the building he was looking for. It was messy looking- plants growing uninhibited, some aging and lack of color on the front of the building- but it wasn’t a bad kind of messy. He liked it. It looked like a place with character, and that reassured him that the person he was hoping to enlist the services of would possess the same strength of character. He tapped the ashes out of his pipe and stowed it in his pocket, before opening the door and stepping inside. It took a moment for Ros to absorb the contents of the room, taking in the unexpected niceness of the place, as well as the sense of messy organization that seemed to permeate the place. He observed the large desk that seemed to demand his attention upon getting his bearings, and he noted the blonde haired woman sitting behind it, seemingly looking through some papers, or perhaps working on something, he couldn’t really tell. Stepping forward, he spoke. “Miss Konrath, I presume?” NaJu Word Count: 718

[Estrellir Konrath]

In fact the Konti was reading a report written by her clerk and concerning a case closed last season. Mell was getting better at keeping records as her mistress was tasking the girl with documenting her own observations and thoughts more often. That particular day, she was dressed in her usual grey shirt, but with a pretty blue scarf. Instead of being tied into the practical ponytail, her white locks were falling over her shoulders and back unrestricted. As if to accentuate the unusual accessory and hairstyle, an azure dress and a fancy white hat were draped over one of the chairs.

When the door moved and a man entered, she leaned back and took the pipe she’d been smoking out of her mouth. While he introduced himself, an impressive cloud of smoke was blown towards the ceiling as violet eyes inspected what seemed to be another client. No Dynasty, that much was obvious even without her divine sixth sense. His clothes were acceptable at best, full of modest yet boring black, his face unshaved and hair messy. Still, he carried himself with a confidence and grace that didn’t suggest a slave.

Straightening in her chair, Estrellir pushed the report aside. He smelled of business. If nothing else, she’d unveil the secret of his identity at least. For the moment, she cocked her head and gave a mocking half-smile. “My my, one simply can’t expect a man to be conscious of fashion, right? If it’s not advice on your wardrobe, what have you come to me for?”

Another possibility occurred to her then. The way he spoke wasn’t only like a freeborn, but also carried a hint of something foreign, a subtle ignorance of what it meant to live and breathe in Kenash. He probably was a foreigner or recently returned from extended exile. Licking her lips, Estrellir replaced the pipe between her lips and took a deep breath of anticipation.

[Roscoe]

"My name is Roscoe, I'm a new hand over at the Draer Plantation. Arrived at the end of spring." Roscoe explained as the woman looked up from the work she was doing at her desk. It was at this point that Ros managed to get a better look at her. The first thing that stood out to him was the scales that seemed to accent but fade on her face. He hadn't realized he was seeking the aid of a Konti. He knew very little of the people, excepting his knowledge that they were people of the sea, and that they of course, bore fish-like scales upon their bodies. The next thing that struck him was what he perceived to be a paradoxical mixing of styles when it came to her clothing and accessories. She wore a grey shirt- very plain when he recalled some of the dynasty women he had seen in his short time in Kenash- but then wore a rather nice looking blue scarf. What grabbed his attention the most was the fact that she was also smoking a pipe. The vast majority of the women he had met in his life weren't inclined toward tobacco, and he was a little taken aback to see one who was. He was also both pleased by it and, in the moment, envious. Pleased to be greeted by the unmistakable and familiar scent of tobacco smoke, which he reckoned might be the most pleasant scent in Mizahar. Envious because, had he known what he was walking into, he would likely still be smoking his. He took note of how nice the pipe was- He wasn't close enough to get a good look at it, but it was obviously the work of careful craftsmanship and what appeared to be a good, dark wood. As he observed her and her pipe, she had blown a large plume of fragrant smoke into the room, instantly putting him at ease- as though her propensity toward smoking was a guarantee of success in the matters they would discuss. Looking her over in that moment, he wasn't sure what she was thinking, but as best he could tell he would guess she was sizing him up. It was a feeling he was used to having even after only a few weeks in Kenash. After a moment she started moving whatever it was she had been working on out of her way and gave him something of a half-smile, maybe closer to a slight grin, and she spoke. “My my, one simply can’t expect a man to be conscious of fashion, right? If it’s not advice on your wardrobe, what have you come to me for?” His immediate reaction was to chuckle lightly at her first question. He might not have under normal circumstances, but in this moment he was caught off guard by so many things that his previously tense demeanor was totally removed. He had also noticed what looked like a bright blue dress and a white hat resting on another chair, and was further perplexed by this woman who he perceived to be very far from normal. He was used to dynasty women being more flamboyant than practical, going for beauty and fashion before anything else in regards to their appearances. Which he understood- it reflected their vain and conceited hearts. But this Konrath woman was different. She was in fashion, yes. Ironically, he was actually conscious of the current fashion trend. Her grey and blue allowed her to fit that bill. But he sensed she was a lot more than just fashionable. It was a vibe he felt from everything in the office- from the messiness of it, from her opting for practical dress even though she had something stunning to wear only a few feet away, from the pipe she smoked and the many papers on her desk which he could only assume were notes of some sort from her line of work. She was different, and Roscoe loved that she was different. The nature of the place and the woman continued to make him feel confident in seeking her aid. After he finished his chuckle, he responded to her inquiry in a very light, comfortable tone. "No, no I suppose you can't. There's no helping people like me in that regard. However, I do think you can help me with a different problem. Now, from what I hear, uncovering the truth where it may not be plain to see is a forte of yours. Unfortunate as it may be for me, I find myself in need of such skill." At this point, he began to walk slowly around the front portion of the office, observing the various different things she had resting on the many shelves, himself unable to identify most of the trinkets, but able to admire them nonetheless. "As I said before, I'm fairly new to town, arrived just under one month ago, when I started working for the Draer's." At this point, his lighter demeanor diminished slightly, in step with the severity of the topic he was now discussing. "Well, you might have heard that they just had a fairly huge quantity of their goods filched from across several of their businesses in town. These are businesses that I, in my short time here, have visited for one reason or another, usually on business for the family. Anyways, long story short, I suspect I may be being used as a scapegoat by someone else in or close to the family. Or at least somebody who has had their eyes on those goods for a while. If I'm right, I suspect these incidents will continue and it will not end pleasantly for me. So, miss Konrath," Now turning to face her and look her in the eyes, "That's the gist of it. Any thoughts?" He wasn't sure if she would be interested. He was hopeful that someone who seemed so personally suited to their craft would be, but he couldn't really tell. He hoped she would in any case- he had no intention of living out the rest of his days in this swamp.

[Estrellir Konrath]

The light tone of his reply matched hers. Estrellir wasn’t trying to leave the impression of being careless or less than competent in her work, but for the moment her greeting had put him at ease. Clients who felt comfortable were more inclined to speak their mind than nervous ones, after all.

He began with what seemed to be a poorly disguised compliment and proceeded to wander through her office as if it was his own. No, a slave definitely wouldn’t walk around like that, let alone speak so freely. They were all rather subdued, modest and too respectful of their owners for that. So he was a Freeborn, an unusual one too, if he was working for the Draer. Taking a deep breath, Estrellir held the smoke in her mouth for a moment. The next cloud took a rounder and more balanced shape than the last.

She didn’t comment on the stolen goods from Draer shops. Of course, she was as informed as a Konrath could get, but there was no reason to show how much or little she knew. Especially when facing a Freeborn. Instead she asked questions. “You’re not a slave, Roscoe. How did you come to work for the Draer? Don’t you think you give yourself too much credit, acting before anyone else has even accused you of anything?” The last one was delivered in a careless tone, words falling to the floor like sand, although it spoke of how she read words and between lines.

Pipe still between her lips, she leaned forward and folded her hands on top of some papers. Before making a decision, Estrellir had to know the entire story, but the fact that she was asking questions already revealed basic interest in that case. As always, Rujaro was the word whispered most often, but such behavior was a novelty, hence even more intriguing than past crimes.

[Roscoe]

Roscoe held his gaze as she seemed to consider what he said- and likely form some notion of what she thought of him- for a moment. As he watched her, waiting for a response of some kind, she blew another cloud of smoke, this one more deliberate and impressive in shape. After those few moments, she spoke.

“You’re not a slave, Roscoe. How did you come to work for the Draer? Don’t you think you give yourself too much credit, acting before anyone else has even accused you of anything?”

The questions caught him slightly off-guard. He had not anticipated being disagreed with- though as he considered it he wasn't sure what he had anticipated. He had never had use for a service of this kind before. His impression was that it would be just like any other business, with an agreement upon services rendered and payment changing hands. Quick, clean, and easy. Though he could also see how it would make sense to be inquisitive, even to the extent of opposing claims- it just went to show that she was as good at what she was doing as he had begun to think. His demeanor then changed slightly. He was very minorly rattled but still calm and cool. The air of comfort he projected seemed to retreat and he ceased to pace the floor of the establishment, deciding from this point forward to stay put where he was.

Though the last question caught him off-guard, the first ones caused him slight dread. He had hoped he wouldn't need to bring up the events that left him stranded in the swampy city, but it seemed that wasn't an option here. Again, he appreciated her thoroughness, even at the expense of his comfort. He hesitated momentarily, his eyes quickly glancing away from hers to scan the room for nothing in particular, before returning to hers.

"As to how I came about my employment, I owe a modest debt to the Draer Dynasty. When I first arrived in Kenash, I received some troubling news from family and it had me..." He paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to describe what happened. ".. Upset, you could say. Very upset. In my anger, I picked a fight with a local man who works for the Draer's- Alfred Lancaster. During the course of that fight, most of the storefront of Draer's Bottled Dreams was damaged or destroyed... It wasn't my highest moment." He said the last bit with sincere regret in his voice, though he quickly rebounded to his normal, more unemotional tone. "Willum Draer showed up and apparently found me to be impressive enough to not put in chains or have killed. Instead he put me to work." At this point Roscoe rolled up his right sleeve to reveal the markings left over from that eventful night. A freeborn brand on his hand, and the word "DRAER" tattooed in bold letters down his forearm. "He gave me these here, assigned me a debt of 3,000 gold rimmed miza's, and put me to work with Alfred."

At this point he paused for a few moments, giving Estrellir time to respond if she had anything to say about his story. After that, he continued.

"As to the reasons for my suspicion- I myself come from a less than reputable background, if you know what I mean. I spent my fair share of time in Sunberth taking from people just because I could do it. And through that line of work, I have seen this done several times. My thought," As he began to explain further, he looked down to roll his sleeve back down, "is this: there were no break-ins or thefts of this nature and of this scale at these stores until after I arrived. I am by far the newest worker with access to these places, and the one whose character is most unknown and questionable." Looking back up to Estrellir again, Roscoe had slightly begun to abandon his cool tone for one that was much more serious. It was clear that he was intent on getting to the bottom of things, and clear that he did indeed believe what he was saying to be the case. "If I were looking to rob these places, I would view the entrance of a guy like me as a golden opportunity. Call me paranoid, I probably am a little. But I don't intend to get blindsided if there's anything I can do about it."

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[Estrellir Konrath]

Roscoe seemed to falter a little, his façade flickering, before regaining composure. At her questions, he seemed to grow uneasy, a little nervous, not enough to tell her anything, but enough for Estrellir to notice. Of course, it was his freedom and safety he was concerned about. She’d probably be just as nervous in his shoes, although others wouldn’t be able to see through her façade as easily…

Despite the discomfort, he started to answer her questions with slow and carefully measured words. Fingering her pipe, Estrellir paid attention to not only the story, but also the way he delivered it, how he stood and moved his hands. Every now and then she took a deep breath and blew another cloud of translucent white smoke into the air. She took care not that the smoke didn’t obscure her line of vision though, releasing it to the side instead.

As he spoke, several questions popped up, yet she allowed the Freeborn to finish his story before inquiring further. Bottled Dreams. She noted the names of store and clerk, storing them away in her memory for later use. Of course, she knew the Draer’s ale brewery, although the Konti preferred sweeter and lighter beverages herself. Some of her Akalak brothers swore by it. Then he showed her the brand and the Dynasty claim etched into his arm like a work of art. She nodded at that, proof constituted an important part of her work. A lot of it was ideas, suspicions, connections, but proof of a rumor or suspicion had by far the greatest value.

At last he gave a brief overview of his background. Suddenly another piece fit into the puzzle. The way he was walking and carrying himself suggested as much, although Estrellir wouldn’t have guessed it herself. Sunberth was foreign to her, but that one possessed an air of delinquency, for lack of a better word. She removed the pipe from between her lips to speak. “What do the Draer know about you? Did you tell or give them reason to suspect that you came from Sunberth apart from what you already told me?”

Considering his story for another moment, she continued. “I don’t mean to disrespect your privacy, but would you tell me what got you so upset that you started a fight? How exactly did it begin?”

Then she went through everything he’d given her again. When handling such matters, her mind worked quickly and efficiently – not only out of habit, but also due to natural talent, the Konti liked to think. “So you wish me to investigate the recent damage of Draer property and discover the culprit for you. Do you have any ideas or suspicions what kind of person it’d be and why they’d target the Draer?” The corners of her mouth curled upwards. “Apart from the fact that you’re the perfect suspect.”

It was easy to get Estrellir interested in a case if it involved Dynasty politics. Roscoe wouldn’t be the first innocent being used as a scapegoat, but anything that promised secret knowledge about the Draer or Rujaro… or even both was worth some digging. Oh, she’d dirty her hands a thousand times for that.

[Roscoe]

Estrellir didn't wait long after Roscoe had finished to begin a new battery of questions, which Roscoe was pleased both to hear and to answer. Her questions were becoming both more numerous and more specific, digging out details about everything from his past to the nature of his time in Kenash to what the Draer's even knew about him. He took is as a good sign- if she was trying to gather this much information it may be safe to assume her interest has been piqued. And if that was the case, the hopefully it wouldn't be long before things started turning back his way again.

“What do the Draer know about you? Did you tell or give them reason to suspect that you came from Sunberth apart from what you already told me?”

"The Draer's are aware of where I come from, though they know nothing of the nature of my work during those years. As far as they know, I'm just a traveler who came from Sunberth and ended up in Kenash. I believe they suspect I have experience fighting and leading, which is why they kept me around as a guard and didn't put me in chains. Willum seemed to think I had potential or something. But aside from that, they know nothing about who I am or what I have done."

“I don’t mean to disrespect your privacy, but would you tell me what got you so upset that you started a fight? How exactly did it begin?”

The topic was an uncomfortable one to Roscoe, but fortunately the titanic rage that he had found in that moment in the Spring was mostly dead, and talking about the event was not very difficult anymore, allowing him to begin after only a moments hesitation.

"Yes, of course. You see, I grew up an orphan in Sunberth, raised by a tavern keeper who took me in when I was only a child. He raised me as his own and taught me to be strong, showed me how to survive. He gave me rules to live by.." At this point, the slightest bit of a smile appeared on Roscoe's face, his lips ever so slightly curving upward as the passion with which he spoke of his guardian became evident. "And it was only because of those rules that I ever made it this far. However," As he left the subject, he returned to his normal demeanor. "When I was in Syliras, I received a letter from a young woman. She claimed it was correspondence from my father- my blood father. At the time I didn't really care much to pursue it and so I just held onto the letter, never opening it. Until I arrived in Kenash." As he spoke now, his eyes narrowed, if only just slightly, and a hint of frustration could be found laced throughout his words. "When I got here I thought it as good a time as any to finally open the letter. What I found inside was.... Not good. The words he used, the way he made excuses for his failures, the easiness of how he communicated given the gravity of the circumstances.... It offended me very deeply to know I could share blood with such a man as that. In the moment I forgot my discipline and I let that anger consume me, if only for a few moments. It was long enough for me to throw a punch at this Draer mercenary- his title is the Gray Fist- and the rest you already know."

As they left off the topic Roscoe took a deep breath and calmed himself, seemingly exhaling his remaining frustration and anger and so returning to his usual, more stoic demeanor. As he waited for the next round of questions, something caught his eye that had not caught it before. What appeared to be a tattoo of a flower- a rather beautiful one at that- on the back of her left hand. It had not garnered his attention before that moment as the conversation had been important and his focus had been solely upon it, but in this smallest lull it stood out to him. He couldn't see all the details from where he stood but he found himself appreciating it nonetheless- the violet color of it was pleasant to see and what he could make out of the design seemed intricate and stylish. Roscoe always held an appreciation for good art, and ink was no exception. After just a moments break in the speaking, Estrellir seemed ready to move forward once more with her questions.

“So you wish me to investigate the recent damage of Draer property and discover the culprit for you. Do you have any ideas or suspicions what kind of person it’d be and why they’d target the Draer? Apart from the fact that you’re the perfect suspect.”

He noted that she cracked a small grin as she spoke the last sentence, which he couldn't help but chuckle at himself. It was true- so very true.

"Well, my personal experience leads me to think it's somebody directly involved in the security or the running of the stores, somebody who can get uninterrupted access to those things for long enough to steal them. But then of course there's the fact that so much was stolen- I've heard it was over 70 pounds of chocolate and a fair quantity of perfume- and no one person needs that much of either of those things. So I would suspect a group of people to be involved, maybe they're smuggling it? I wouldn't know how things like that work in Kenash with how short of a time I've been here. I've also heard that there's a group of slaves who live out in the swamps and try things like this every now and again? I don't recall what name they go by, but I assume you know who I'm talking about. In any case, I suppose I can't really specify someone I think might have done it, only that -as you have said- I am the perfect suspect, and I think that they know that as well."

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[Estrellir Konrath]

Estrellir’s lips curled in barely contained amusement. It wasn’t safe to assume they thought him a harmless villager, no. Where knowledge didn’t cast its light, prejudice and reputation grew in the shadows. Her sisters themselves were experiencing a good deal of racially colored insults on a regular basis. People tended to assume the worst without asking questions.

Then her eyes lit up. “How does Willum treat you? Maybe he favors you? Sometimes people who seem to do so are just looking for a chance to teach you a lesson.” Some who looked natural leaders had to be taught their place, after all, so they didn’t start a rebellion. Still, she thought with irony, the Rujaro had managed to become a force dangerous enough to worry the Dynasties. Their name they’d been given was whispered in the highest ranks. Estrellir bet half of the tales told about them were the result of exaggerated gossip. The Konti had tried to gather reliable information, but to no avail. So far.

Of course, she’d only share a fraction of what she knew and suspected with the Freeborn sitting in front of her. Such was the privilege of Dynasty members. When he started answering her other question, she leaned forward, licking her lips. However, he seemed to expand it to a longer story beginning with the distant past. With her interest dimmed, Estrellir leaned back into her comfortable chair and replaced the pipe between her lips. The smoke accompanied Roscoe’s words like a heartbeat, emerging to the tune of her calm breathing.

His smile surprised her. So he was a man who cared for others, one capable of gratitude and similar feelings. Whatever they said about Sunberthians, he wasn’t like the rumors. At the same time, Estrellir wasn’t sure where to place his intelligence. For the time being, he seemed like a kind of honest criminal, a man who lived by his rules. Which weren’t necessarily Kenash’s rules. “I see,” was her only comment when he finished the little story. It had nothing to do with the incident, but it had given an interesting peak into his character.

They moved on to the question of suspects. “You heard right. They’ve damaged or stolen property of several Dynasties over the last two seasons or so.” Falling silent, she was gnawing at the pipe’s mouthpiece. It was already worn and quite marked by her teeth. If the Rujaro were responsible for that incident, they’d most likely acted on information from a spy. Either way, a case with a possible connection to the Rujaro would provide a delicious meal.

Plucking the pipe from her mouth, Estrellir spread her arms. “Alright, I’ll investigate the case. You understand I cannot afford any bias. If I find significant evidence, I won’t hesitate to suspect you.” She paused briefly and smiled. “If you agree to those conditions, there’s only one thing left to discuss: payment.”

Boxcode by Lenz

[Vice]

Estrellir Konrath :

Skills

• +3 Interrogation
• +1 Observation
• +1 Rhetoric

Lores

• Interrogating a Customer
• Clientele: Keep em comfortable, keep em talking

Roscoe :

If you decide to come back, let me know

If you have questions, comments, or concerns, please send me a PM, and we'll discuss my reasoning behind why the grade given was received. Please make sure to edit any posts in the grading queue to 'graded' and update your CS as soon as possible. Enjoy! ^.^