The quiet was broken only by the steady tap-tap-tap-ping of water which fell in small droplets from the single leak of a shingled roof in need of some slight repair. The storm outside was not an overly powerful one; a mere drizzle of rain which would quickly come and go as a summer shower common to the area. The true fury and storm lay within the eyes of the man who rested comfortably at the head of a table, listening to that tap-tap-tap-ping of water which fell into a metal basin that was slowly filling with the leakage. His face was clean shaven and his hair long, tied back in a shoulder length ponytail. Despite the anger in his eyes, there was a calmness to his posture, as though he were externally at peace and relaxed. He lifted a fork full of chicken pot pie to his lips and ate, savoring the flavor of the chicken and carrots and peas in their creamy sauce, accented by the soft crumble of the honeyed crust. Across from him, his daughters sat rather less enthusiastically, their own meals slowly growing cold as they were poked and prodded in silent misery. It had been a bad day, yesterday, for each. When he had returned home from the market in a nearby city, it had not taken long to notice the number of problems with his property. He was not a fool after all, and spending each and every day tending to the same lands and livestock, one would naturally become familiar with each little detail. So when he had seen the amount of evidence that people had trespassed and hazarded his property, he had immediately checked on both of his daughters to make sure they were safe. Of course they were... right as rain, in fact, with no inkling that anything was the matter. That told him immediately that they had either invited strangers into his home while he was away... or had had no idea that anything was remiss. If they hadn't noticed trespassers it meant they weren't here, doing their chores. But all the chores were done, so that couldn't be the case. Deductively, that meant they knew that others had been on his land and were lying to him about it in order to hide their guilt. No amount of explaining the dangers of outsiders would break them of their folly of trust however. No punishment was severe enough to stave off their curiosity and make it plain that people were a danger. Especially those... things that went around disguised as men and women, treating the world like their playground. He detested them all, in the privacy of his own mind. But the danger they faced meant he had to swallow his pride, and acquiesce an acceptance of their presence. Otherwise they'd likely murder his family and burn his farm down for the glee of it, as he'd seen them do to others... Despite the silence of Felicitas and her older sister @Eudora Bauer, it was obvious that they had invited trouble into his home. And because they were not talking, he now had to bring in outside help to investigate the situation and tell him who had been here and why. Not to mention what threat they possessed in the future... To that end he had gone to a local tavern and put up one of those... "Quests" that the wandering adventurers enjoyed so much, asking for one with a particular set of skills to come and investigate the nature of the disturbances on his farm. He didn't enjoy the hypocrisy of hiring one of those deadly outsiders to handle this situation, but he had no other choice. And it was his fond hope that whoever showed up would serve as an object lesson to his children not to put stock in the outsiders. The reward for his quest wasn't much: the promise of a home cooked meal, and a handful of gold coins that he had made at market which was now money wasted on this fool's errand. It promised to be a hard winter, now. And his stern gaze made it clear that his daughters were to thank. @Eudora Bauer @Eleanor Loan
Even if Eleanor was far from the title of 'mercenary', taverns and the sort were always a somewhat reliable place to find work. While most of the requests were far from the detective-type character's comforts and abilities, one struck her rather soundly. A request to investigate a nearby farm. While the reward seemed much less weighted than other jobs (the ones involving violence, of course), Eleanor much preferred that kind of work. It was always less about the reward, and more about getting job done anyways. Following the prompts of the quest, she made her way to the property in need of assistance. Cautious, as not to cross any boundaries, she stood at the edge, hoping that someone would catch sight of her. After all, she stood out quite well in parts like that, clad in all blue. On her journey up to that point, she'd be analyzing most of the things she came in contact with, taking note of certain crops at differing levels of growth. Though, through all of her gathered knowledge, she still new little of the farming craft. There was also the aspect of having no hands-on experience, and that was when learning of things like that really began. At least in Eleanor's case, the greatest learning occurred kinesthetically.
The plan had seemed fool-proof in her head. The wagon was mended, the sheep were … relatively unharmed, except for the one ram who seemed a little jostled, and Eudora had managed to finish up the rest of her chores without a problem. She hadn’t even broken a rule, by striking up a conversation with the adventurers that had offered their help. Technically, she had left a piece of parchment scribbled to a fence post and waited off in the distance, giving a small smile to any adventurer that caught her eye and chose to stick around. She had even gotten rid of the parchment afterwards, tearing it up and putting it in the fire as kindling. Maybe that’s what had given her away. When her father must have started the night’s fire, yes, he must have seen the paper and put them all together before he even struck a match. At least, that’s what she had worked out with Felicitas, who had given her signature “Eudora, please,” look when that explanation was created. She had tried to move on to her next theory, but George had caught the two of them whispering in their room. They were separated for the interrogation, and Eudora lied by omission and could feel the storm brewing even before they were called to dinner. It didn’t help that her father had quietly swore to her that he would find out, one way or another. Eudora wasn’t expecting it to happen at dinner, but she had no appetite nonetheless. She sat in silence, not daring to look at her father, and stealing the quickest of glances up at her sister when she thought it was safe, when her father had his mug of ale to his lips. Eudora glanced at Felicitas, who shook her head ever so slightly to dissuade her from trying again. But something caught Eudora’s eye. She glanced past Felicitas, through the window. The flaps were left open to allow a night breeze to linger in. The view was a rich gold as the sun lay down its final rays along the wheat. And there, amidst the stalks, was a figure in stark blue. From head to toe, the stranger was donned in expensive fabric. Eudora stood up instinctively, enraptured by the sight of someone so vividly dressed. ”Papa, someone’s here.” She said. She slowly moved away from the table, mumbling for her father’s permission. She moved to the window to get a better look when she noted the figure taking in every last inch of the farm. The figure’s head swiveled in every direction and Eudora had no doubt that whoever this was could make out every last detail. Her stomach dropped. Whatever appetite was trying to forge a place in her was wiped out as dread took over. This must have been George’s method. He had hired someone of high class and skill to sniff her out. This was his plan. She didn’t dare look back at her father. She didn’t dare move from the window. Instead she stood, eyes dragging along with every step the stranger took, fingernails digging into her palms to remind her to keep her cool. She hadn’t been discovered … yet.
