Pinned for Greatness

Log Info

• Title: Pinned for Greatness
• Emitter: Warrick
• Characters: Warrick, Ravenstongue, Schara
• Place: Arcanists' Society
• Time: February 7th, 2023
• Summary: Terrible weather outside keeps Warricked trapped within the Arcanists' Society, him continuing to brush up on tax codes. He's joined by Cor'lana taking shelter from the freezing sleet, as well as Schara from deeper within the establishment. Warrick is wary of Cor'lana due to her reputation, which Pothy's is clearly in renown from Schara showing off Pothy pins, both standard and seasonal!

Society for Progressive Arcanists, Midday

It only took one look outside from the front door of the Society to quietly shut the door against the hellish amalgamation of sleet, snow, and heavy rain that battered against the side of the building and made the courtyard a terrible mess.

Warrick, a middle aged Eldanar man in a grey overcoat, step away from the door while rubbing his face. "... of all times..." he sighs, a bundle of books and paperwork held under one arm. It's haphazardly placed onto a table nearby, one of many in a place of learning, as he kicks out a chair to end a short lived break.

Books are spread out, them easily identified as Alexanrian Tax Codes. Riveting stuff.

There's a woman who steps into the Society library who looks rather cross, violet eyes filled with a sort of annoyance as she pulls her cloak off her person and finds a hook on a wall somewhere (as magi are known for their cloaks) to hang it. "Really," Cor'lana murmurs, "it's even worse than it was yesterday."

The white raven that followed her into the library takes roost on her shoulder, which earns a bit of a look again. "Pothy," she groans. "You're all wet."

"When it rains, it pours!" Pothy exclaims in the voice of a chipper woman, and then he takes flight to...

The table that Warrick's sitting at. Pothy stares at the tax codes. And he sighs. He whistles back in Cor'lana's direction. The sorceress rolls her eyes. "Your eyesight's getting bad, Pothy? Only reason I could think of that you'd mistake 'tax codes' for 'snack codes'," Cor'lana says as she walks over to lift Pothy from the table.

Artifice and progressive arcanists had a habit of going hand in hand, as dredging up the many questionable acts of ancient Kulthos to find what wasn't actually an affront to everything right in the world certainly required a progressive outlook on matters.

Which meant that Schara found themselves at the halls in their usual armor, with one small bag tucked into one hand as they wandered by, and found Warrick at yet another library, where they had to stick their nose in yet again.

"You can tell me to leave if you wish, but did you find the tax writeups at the city library unsatisfactory?" The artificer asks. "And hello miss Ravenstongue and mister Apotheosis. I did not know he could read writing, even if it is misinterpreted."

It shouldn't come to a surprise to the man, since he was, after all, in a magi's place, to have an odd hued bird land nearby. Tired slate eyes rise up from a book barely cracked open to rest on Pothy. There's a pause. And his gaze drifts up to their owner.

A long pause. "... Sorceress Cor'Lana Lupecyll-Atlon, your... bird was one of the more difficult cases to track down for petty larceny," he dryly intones in the most deadpan manner.

Another person is speaking with them, Warrick turning to face the brass-clad figure from the chair. "... Schara," he notes. "You are fine. I was merely studying in a different area for a change of pace. Though... the weather seems to have force my hand to stay here."

"Larceny?!" Cor'lana seems offended at the accusation. "I have always paid for Pothy's food. Even if it was... after the fact." That admission is delivered a little bashfully.

Pothy in Cor'lana's hands, however, just stares at Warrick. "I'll do it again," he threatens in the voice of a gobber who has resolved to only cause problems, ever--

Which gets Cor'lana lifting Pothy up to her eyes so she can glare into his face. "No. Crime. Pothy," she demands. "And no antagonizing people we've just met."

Cor'lana then puts the white-clad raven onto her shoulder, seeming to forget all of her complaints about wet-Pothy-feathers. "Now, err--have we met before?" she asks, seeming to realize herself. "I don't know if we have. I apologize. This whole 'people knowing my name' thing is odd."

"Larceny, as in, Apotheosis was stealing from people? Well, that's not right. Even if it was something small, I guess, It's still taking from someone else." The artificer sighs. "It sets a bad precedent for all those people wearing pins and the like."

Yes, well, you met me, but that's probably directed at him. But you were in the tribune more than once, so it could be from that? Or he could have found out from somewhere else maybe."

Warrick just watches Cor'lana, like he's heard the surprise/offence a dozen dozen dozen times. "Hence why your bird remains out of jail. It was still difficult to track down when your bird goes on a... spree."

He eyes Pothy. Stares back. "No, you're not," he quips back in the same accent, though with proper tongue for the region of Goblintown. <Goblin-talk>

Shaking his head, he turns back to the familiar's master. "No. We haven't. I've heard much of you. Forgive my curtness. I'm Warrick Retzner. I used to be in the Watch, and among my duties, filing crime reports was one." Unspoken was 'Pothy's crimes against snack-anity' were among them.

He turns to Schara, a brow quirked. "Pins? What pins? The Resurrectionists? Regardless, no. I have a general knowledge of... most of the prevalent adventurers. And their..." A glance to Cor'lana. "... deeds."

As soon as Warrick reveals that he was in the watch, everything clicks into place for Cor'lana. She sighs deeply, but then her violet eyes gain a sort of steely look to them. "I assure you, I am not the 'temptress' stealing things from men who aren't my husband that the Tribune has made me out to be."

Pothy looks at Cor'lana for a long moment. "Thief! Thief!" he accuses in a man's voice, followed by the sound of a child's laughter.

"I am /not/ a thief," Cor'lana says, rolling her eyes. "Pothy's had his fits of bad behavior before, but I've always paid up."

"The Apotheosis pins, not the resurrectionist ones." The artificer answers, pulling a small white enameled pin out of one of their pockets, a caricatured of a bird that they hold out to the guard. "There's a bakery I go to often for their day old bread, and every once in a while they have promotions, they were giving them away because he's been there a few times. They even made a new design for the winter, and I guess they're nice looking, so I held onto them." They continue, pulling another out, this time with a white and green scarf and toque adorning the bird.

Warrick shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, and lets them drop. "Baseless accusations wrought on conjecture is what the Tribune excels at. Though, through my experience young lady, there's a grain of truth to them."

Pothy's antics are given a glance, but he resumes. "So keep the honied words at bay and the magics in," he mentions in a rote manner.

He turns to the Artificer, and his head drops slightly to look at the pin. A sigh escapes him as reaches out to take it and inspect. "... of course they have a pin..." he murmurs in a grumble, offering it back. "... and they're seasonal? Great. It was already frustrating enough to deal with see the dolls of people that very well tear the city down in the street."

Cor'lana looks like she's going to have a remark to say to Warrick's request to keep her honied words and magic to herself, judging by how peeved the expression on her face is--but then Schara brings out the pin, and she looks a bit flabbergasted. "I didn't know there was any interest left in Pothy," she says. "It seems like all the Pothy things vanished overnight in the marketplace. Which is for the best--it was getting ridiculous."

It's Pothy's turn to look offended. "Hmph," he says, turning his beak up in the air. He was /enjoying/ that interest!

"Yes, they're seasonal, I heard." Schara nods back to Warrick. "I think they're doing another one for when spring arrives, maybe you should go tell them? If you want them to stop, or if you want to tell them what flowers would best fit Pothy. But I'm getting sidetracked, what I was saying is that if you have things being given out of you, you can't set a bad example for them, with things like stealing."

"And not all of the people are that bad. I met one of them the other day, she paid me a platinum piece in advance to make some amulets for people with no homes in Alexandria to keep them warm."

Warrick, again, shrugs at Cor'lana's expression. "The kids were all about it. They still are, and probably will be once things thaw out. They're always on about something or another that's in season. Heh."

He looks up to Schara. "My opinion doesn't matter, they will sell them, it makes them coin." He arranges his books, a side glance stolen to the window as sleet and freezing rain patters against it angrily. "What people? The adventurers? I know that. It doesn't help the ones that actually do good get superseded by lack of foresight by their peers."

"Well, it is true, there's adventurers who do absolutely reckless things that ultimately harm more than help people," Cor'lana says, frowning a little for the subject. "I... try to make up for that as best as I can."

Pothy looks at Warrick for a long moment. But then he leans into Cor'lana's ear and whispers, "Snacks."

Cor'lana smirks a little. "What, do you want to go into the dining hall, for old time's sa--"

"SNACKS," Pothy definitely does not whisper into Cor'lana's ear.

The sorceress cringes. "Okay, yes, heard. I guess that's my signal to leave."

"I mean, yes, they might be, I don't know for certain, but that's why it's important. And don't say that Warrick, your opinion matters. It's your job to guard people after all, and that means you should have a good understanding of things as much as possible." The artificer huffs, crossing their arms. "Well, I think it was one of the ones involved with some of the recent destruction, I'm not certain. Maybe I'm easily swayed by payment, but I want to at least hope they're meaning to do good."

"Well, I guess he's known for his hunger. I guess I'll see you around if you need to make sure they're taken care of, miss Ravenstongue." They continue, waving to the sorceress.

"Trust me, lady, I sure know that," Warrick sighs, pinching between his eyes. "And so far, my experiences have been exactly that: folks doing harm messes up all the good faith."

Pothy's yelling makes Warrick flinch. "... very well. Pleased to make your acquiance Lady Lupecyll-Atlon."

He shakes his head at Schara. "Doesn't matter to merchants that want to make money, and its my personal opinion, not a city opinion. My opinion matters not in the word of the law," he elaborates. There's a quick squint at the mention of being swayed, but it's not called upon. Instead he just adjusts a button on his overcoat.

It's still frozen hell outside. "... I suppose I'll continue my studies..."

"Have a good evening, both of you," Cor'lana says to both Schara and Warrick with a small smile. "I, err--I hope you find what you're looking for in the..."

She stares at the tax code books for a moment. She glares at one volume in particular. "... I think that's the one that knocked Telamon out one time," she says, and then she remembers herself. "Ooops, sorry. Got lost down memory lane. Have fun with the tax codes. And Schara, stay well."

The sorceress finds her cloak again and heads off in the direction of the dining hall, presumably before Pothy can scream in her ear again.

"It should be a good evening, I hope at least." The artificer nods to Cor'lana before they're on their way. "How do you get knocked out by a book? Were they smacked by it, or did they lose concentration and fall asleep?" They wonder aloud as the sorceress wanders off. "Ah, right, well, It should matter, if you're the person who needs to be enforcing it, maybe. I guess there are a lot of varying opinions, and not all of them agree, so maybe you're right, but it still doesn't feel right." They muse quietly. "I hope you find what you're looking for with that tax information Warrick, you've been looking for a while, now."

Warrick blinks at Cor'lana's words, and looks down at the tome in his hands. "... hm. It /is/ usable for such a thing, it is rather dense." Was... that.... a joke? No, it was too dry to be one. But maybe...-?

He waves to Cor'lana as she goes, he squints at Schara. "Separating personal feelings from what the law dictates is what keeps the quality of the Watch. Some are better at than others. And like I said before, I am /studying/."

There's a lightning crack outside. Warrick flinches. "... at least. I am trying."

-End Scene-