The #Broken_Dagger Forum

Glenn's office, a haven of papers of all types, would find one additional piece added to the collection this morning. A letter delivered by a young street urchin, sealed by a wax symbol of a pair of clasped hands, and written in an ostentatiously flowing script. The boy had been paid well to see it into the hands of one of Glenn's staff with the verbal message that it was concerning his recent suit order.

To one Glenn Burnie, Mapmaker of Myrken, Voice of the Governer;

My dear boy, Glenn. It's been quite some time since we've had the opportunity to talk in person, and I regret that I must approach you today through this material medium. However, I am quite busy and had little interest in dealing with that ridiculous staff and all their red tape.

I'm writing you today to express just how displeased I am with your framing me for something as menial as poisoning chocolate. I am hardly a good person, and I've done my fair share of devious things. You could have had the decency of coming up with something more vicious to do in my name than this if you were so unable to pin anything on me. It's insulting and I would not have wasted my time.

I have determined that you came up with this rather dour scheme due to a derth of knowledge on how I truly handle things. To this point I decided to demonstrate an example of just what sort of entertainment I do seek out. I heard you've been playing at the lake with interesting toys. I'd apologize for the state of the waters, and the local forest, but I'm actually quite proud of that bit of work.

A druid has been wandering around and undoing most of my entertainment, but we can both hope the damage lingers for some time, can't we? Next time, do try and be a little more accurate with your fibs, tsk tsk. I'll be sure to make an effort to keep providing you with advice and examples in the future to help you avoid confusion.

With Love,

Suede Roschen

A letter to the mapmaker it may have been, but into Genny's hands it would fall. After all, she was staff. Though of late she was far more busy conducting research on the strangest topics for Burnie, rather than actually spending much time in contact with him. Her absence was enough so that she was either buried under tomes at the library or very nearly drowned in the sea of parchment and paperwork at the bustling office. She had failed in her mission to talk to the tailor months earlier, to learn from him what he knew about Catch, but thankfully it had afforded her only one instance where she'd actually come into contact with him. He may have recognized her, but likely did not know her post. And even then it had been for a mere few moments when her hair had been much longer.

Too busy to argue she would take the sealed message without an argument about Roschen's excuse. But Burnie had warned her about Suede, for that matter, her caution flourished with the rumors that he'd been the one to poison the chocolate. Normally, she wouldn't have questioned Burnie's business, but that she knew his feelings about the tailor she couldn't help but pinch the letter's folds and peer inside. It would have been difficult to read, if at all possible before she hastily pressed it flat and set the thing on Burnie's seat.

"Anything interesting?" Was it coincidence or did someone rush off to inform Burnie of a little witnessed indiscretion? Probably the former. Everyone at the desks and tables were all quite kind to Genny. They were at various levels of education, some more than her, some less, but they all did try to help her fit in. It was a nice, big, happy family there, researching all manners of things and helping Myrken. Nonetheless, the timing of Burnie's arrival was uncanny. And he would raise a hand, to still both her and any more words he might have.

Walking forward, the paper was snatched up and then read. A pleasant smile turned into a little laugh. "Oh, Genny. You're going have to watch out for a bit. Your scent is all over this now, and it's going to be a problem. Not a HUGE problem, but a problem nonetheless." And just like that, he ripped off the last two paragraphs and the signature of the letter. "Hm. Did you see it?" Then a shake of his head. "No, no. No matter. Don't answer. Put simply, Roschen claims to have poisoned the lake. We could send constables, but the poisoned nature of the tailor's own body (and his paramour's insanity) would mean that we'd lose at least one and I don't find that acceptable. I'd rather try another option first. Oh, and another opinion. What do you suggest we do about him?"

Glenn walked in on her peeking about a letter meant for him, but she wasn't as startled as she could or perhaps even should have been. There was a frown on her face as she offered the letter to him so he might snatch it up without getting the wrong idea.

"I..." he hushed her, asked her questions, then all in one breath told her not to answer. And so she did not, a gaping silence as she let Burnie spill his thoughts. At mention of her scent, one of her eyebrows lifted, puzzled.

"I... I very much doubted Mister Roschen was delivering news on a suit order," not that she doubted Suede's professional courtesies but Burnie had explained to her once to watch out for him. Her skeptical tone about the matter suggested she believed Burnie. Perhaps somehow she might protect Burnie by intercepting the letter, after all, if Suede could poison chocolate, gods forget about the lake; who knew what he was capable of.

As for what to do with the misbehaving tailor there was a small shrug as she collected her hands into one another, looking to Burnie a little guilty for spying. "I... perhaps if I understood why. I mean, well, what does he want out of this, I see no way the lake being.. a.. putrid cesspool benefits anyone, even Mister Roschen." Or was it more, was this a feud? An act fueled by the tension, distrust, perhaps even animosity Burnie and Suede shared for one another.

Of course she had other theories, but knew neither of the men well enough to suggest them.

The smile on Burnie's face was amused but still warm, surprisingly so perhaps. He was pleased with her answer, perhaps? "That's the whole of it, of course. Why does someone do what they do? If you understand that, you can deal with them. And that's true whether they're a street urchin or a teahouse whore or the Baie itself. I'd love to know why the Baie does what it does, by the by. Don't go looking for that information, though. Best not to stir up some things."

But the smile did not last for long. "Unfortunately, there's no cracking the secrets of Suede Roschen. He's become something of a force of nature, even if it's an annoying wind and not torrential flooding. As best as I can tell, he's broken from whatever past he has and is only shaped by the impulses of the moment and a number of slights, real or imagined, are the only things that he can easily hold on to. He sees me as his opponent in some game Myrken would be far better off if we were not playing. So.." Once again Burnie waved the ripped piece of paper. "I'll provide him with a new playmate. There are a small number of beings inclined towards the forest. I'll make sure this, and the verifying scent upon it, ends up in the hands of one of the more beastly of those beings."

It was still unsettling to see Burnie's expressions change, even more than it had been to acclimate to the once, ever-present smile. Genny stood silently by, weight shifting from one foot to another, as her eyes followed Burnie. She was otherwise still, but perhaps he could still catch a hint of her efforts to quell curiosities and questions that were best left alone. When at last he finished and she seemed unable to contain herself, bewilderment overcoming more than her eyebrows and contorted features. "Playmate, Sir?" There was confusion to be sure, but also a hint of anger and fear. After all, the letter had her scent and now Burnie's too.

"Even if he disagrees with you... politically... the lake, the land... entire harvests have been lost," it was a more prominent problem now that droves of angry, and soon to be hungry, townfolk had been trickling into the office slamming down their rotten crop with rants about The Blight to whomever would listen. "People will die come winter," and the season was well on its way, a few more weeks and the morning frost wouldn't melt by mid-day.

Regardless of what details she had garnished in the mere few moments of peeking at the letter, she did seem to get the notion that this was all a game to the tailor. And she wasn't at all pleased at how lightly he took the matter or its breadth of impact.

She needn't suggest the financial implications, of which Burnie was surely well aware. If the forest and land was not mended soon outside trade would be the only answer for warmth and food, for everything. Undoing much of Myrken's economic leaps in the past few years to be certain.

"Is he so unreasonable... you think it necessary to occupy his attentions while we try and find a solution... t-to a problem we know so little about?" Of course, in this was the unsaid expectation that if Suede created the problem wouldn't he would know how best to resolve it.

"He has no regard for others. It's not selfishness," Burnie spoke coolly, without hatred. It was a clinical tone, though a casual one as well. "but madness. If there was once a true human being within him, it no longer exists. Suede Roschen is nothing more than a wild animal. If I thought it possible to pull him back from the abyss, I would find a way."

Oh, Burnie was fully aware of the fiscal consequences. It was late enough in the season and enough had been saved and hoarded and everyone was doing well enough, that it would not even be the hardest winter in recent memory, but if it was not resolved soon, there could be terrible repercussions in the coming months. "Kacela will be utterly opposed to him, a distraction at worst and a permanent solution at best. Perhaps to Jirai as well," though he didn't think either truly likely.

"This druid Roschen mentions. I've not looked into her personally, though there's a file already, I think. You should extend some feelers to her, let her know that Roschen is behind this, but that we'd rather focus her efforts on a cure than on vengeance or punishment." They had a werewolf for that after all. "Anything else you find out about her and her intentions here in Myrken would be useful, as well. Do you think you can find her?"

"Perhaps... ah, follow the trail of green where the forest blight is healed," she smiled slightly only half joking and partially because, it seemed in poor taste to joke when so many burdens weighed upon Myrken and Burnie.

Her lips pursed a moment in contemplation, the words of the thought never coming to fruition. Burnie was a good man, she thought it many times before and again now; and it went without saying. Especially now as Suede with his unfocused, chaotic blight, taunted Burnie in whatever game it was Suede thought they played. Ever composed, calm, and with considerations in every aspect of the matter.

The pause had passed and she nodded unnecessarily, as if dismissing the comment about how she might find the druid. "I have... well, there have been a few new faces, some new names I've overheard. I am quite certain Catch runs into every gypsy, trader, and traveler come to town," which was a good place to start.

It was by no means an impossible task, and while the question was asked politely enough, Genny knew a command from a question. "I will," with a curt nod she smiled and backed towards the door. Her travel only stopping short to look up in inquiry in case Burnie had further remarks, instructions, advice, or the parting words he never seemed to do without.