Emund hears the sound of light snoring before the sudden snap of someone sitting up at a desk.  There's a quick shuffling of papers, and the sound of a chair being slid across the floor before Curtis arrives and opens it.  His tired, but bright eyes looking over at Emund.  Arms reaching out to embrace him in a hug before pulling back.

"And with you, my friend.  Please, tell me, what is it I can assist with you today?" Behind him in the room, papers are scattered about.  Curtis has clearly been doing some research, as books lay open and envelopes with broken seals lay about the room.  The quick glance Emund is able to give inside the room, some of the seals are from rather high up inside the Faith.  Some of the books are also written in some kind of language, the letters and characters of the script foreign to Emund's eyes.

"I'm sorry.  Where are my manors.  Please," he says as he moves away from the door.  The room itself was of a good size.  A few bookshelves.  A large desk, with a plush chair.  A large symbol of the Iron Throne upon a wall.   Cabinets on the walls without doors, holding some of the more art pieces and items that could be used in the various ceremonies. 

Keegan will walk over to where Yorvalor and Cade are sitting “well gents, I hate to break up this touching moment. But Tharii awaits us. Shall we?”

((What's Elric been up to during this time?  Or feel free just to be joined with one of the groups))

Keegan, Cade, and Yorvalor set out into the morning streets, after grabbing a bit of bread and cheese from Nikoli.  (Who, anyone might rightly observe, adds it to your tab... the day you pay that back he'll be a rich man indeed...)  

Tharii is always a difficult one to track down.  He would be the one to normally find Keegan, but the reverse normally required a bit of dead drops.  Turning on a lantern at night.  Flipping over some specific box.  Depending on the day of the week, and the time, there was a signal for those that knew him.  With it being the morning, and the day, it was normally by the wharf.  The rich smells of salt, fish, and the melting blubber and oils of leviathan near the vats created quite the aroma.

A faint air of tobacco smoke came across the group's noses as Tharii seemed to just walk out from a crowd.  Dressed in messy, somewhat bloody clothing, he looks at you while taking a long drag.  The stench of leviathan reeked off of him; probably having been doing some work at cutting and carving the massive beasts brought to shore.  He gives a small nod to Keegan first, before looking at the rest, scanning over the group of you quickly before speaking.  "Well, it's bright and early.  What can I do for you?" 

"More lovely in here than I remember friend. Glad to see you've found a nice plush chair to hold your rump during hymns." Emund shoots a toothy grin at Curtis and points to the chair. "Truth be told, you had me worried friend. It hasn't been often that I don't hear from you now and again. I feared you'd ascended into martyrdom!"

Emund strolls to the bookshelf and touches the spine of one of the books. "I remember some of these fondly. Good meter and metaphor." He turns around and motions to the books that lay open on the table. "Those however. Loar rá Eldo carpassë, and myzür brüüz Hazmüzwrath, but that is not writing that I know." He strokes his chin and feigns a look of concern. "Has the Faith fallen prey to some otherworldly cult in the last few weeks?"

"Regardless, I've heard whispers of some of the more secretive knights and their emblem in Dunnour. Is something going on?" He pauses and thinks of the previous night. "And that charming young woman who practices out of here, Isabella–a friend was terribly woeful she missed his performance last night, and I thought I'd relay the message if you've seen her."

Emund: Curtis lets out a chuck.  "If you had decided to go and do a deeper delve into the practices of old and holy texts, you too could read it, too, Emund."  He chuckles as he collects the papers.  Rolling up a few scrolls and placing them back in their organized places.  But, the second Emund begins to ask another question on Isabella and the others, he stops.  Nearly dropping a scroll.  The color fades from his already pale face as he looks to his friend, before looking at the door.  He moves over, closing it, and quietly turning the lock to the best of his ability.  

"Emund..." he begins still looking at the door.  "...I need you to be careful on this line of questioning.  I know you and the Faith have your differences right now.  And you question things.  Things that deserve questioning."  He turns and looks to his friend, walking over to the table.  "After all, that is why it's Faith. The Faith. You have to believe and find answers to questions."  Curtis is clearly losing the train of thought, but seems to recognize it.  He pauses with a hefty sigh.  "Things are in motion.  And I cannot go into further detail about it.  But, there are talks of a visit from one of the Saints.  And I have to prepare for it."

The Saints aren't necessarily martyrs.  Sure, some are.  But inside the Faith, there are living Saints.  Holy Beings.  Mortals that have a Transcendence about them.  Some of the holy orders are said to be run by living saints, or at least the echo of their divine energy.

Yorvalor, Cade, Keegan:  Tharii raises a brow as he looks over to Yorvalor.  He wipes his hands on his clothing, new streaks of blood and fatty oils coming off of his hands and onto the clothing.  "I think I'm just fine at fitting in.  No reason to draw unwanted attention."  He begins to reach into his pocket.  Shuffling around in it while he mutters to himself for a second before looking back to you all.  "Besides, who pays attention to the dirty man on the street compared to the one who's just slightly better than the others?"  Tharii pulls out a similar scroll than the one Cade has.  Opening it carefully, it appears to be some kind of cypher.  A faint paper that can be seen through.  It's posible if this piece was laid on top of the other, the seemingly garbage text would be completed.  

"May I see the scroll you found?"

“A Saint...” Emund ponders this. He’s never encountered one of the living ones, merely the dead ones either in honorary monuments or as artistic recreations of them and the events that lead to their sainthood. He fiddled with the red thread at his wrists, before speaking again. 

“Withhold what you will, but it’s in my nature to question what appears out of order, and the way the blood has drained from your face makes me believe that this is surely out of order. Tell me what you can do that I can be safe and protect others who find themselves having to hide for asking the wrong questions.” (Persuasion: 13)

”And what of Isabella? The tavern where our mutual friend plays was licked by some snatchthieves and ruffians, the Orchids. I shouldn’t like to leave here without warning her.”

Cade stares at Tharii for a second then back at his compatriots, hoping one of them would back out of this. Cade eventually gives in. He sighs and hands the scroll over to Tharii.

"I still don't trust your info, Tharii. The attack was forty minutes late. If I want to be attacked they should at least have the common courtesy to show up on time," Cade responds. He eyes Tharii carefully, still not trusting the tiefling.

"If this is a trap or a setup I am gutting you like a fish," Cade says.

Keegan almost seems to enjoy the smell of the wharf, taking out one of his half chewed cigars and lighting it, “Cade mate, ease off just a bit. You trust me, aye? Well I trust Tharii, and so far his info checks out. If it wasn’t for him we would have been caught unawares at the Falcon, and good chance we woulda been a wee hammered at that point. Besides, this is the most fun we’ve had together!”

Keegan, Yorvalor, Cade: Tharii takes the scroll.  First nodding to Keegan for saying that at least someone had his back.  Then, as he started to arrange the papers together, chuckled to himself.  “Gut you like a fish...” he pauses and looks over at the group.  “Was it a pun, because, well,” his eyes looking down.  Gesturing at his clothing.  Bloody and covered in leviathan.  “It was a good one.”  

He turned the paper a few more times before seeing the best way for it to be put together.  The thin sheet of paper seeming to form a old script.  Out of the group there, it’s Cade that recognizes it.  Celestial.  A old form of Celestial.  “Hmmm...” There was still a cypher to it. The celestial encoded.  “Not many write in this language anymore.”  A bit of a huff.  “Who-ever wrote this, is using a cypher, and is asking the Orchids to step up their game.  I don’t think it came from whoever leads a petty gang either.”  He places the scrolls back into their respective containers.  Twirling them before he hands them both back over to Cade.  “The plot thickens.  Maybe you should ask the leader of the Orchids who’s been talking to him and making them a bit braver, yes?”

“If you want my two cents,” he begins without even letting anyone respond.  “There aren’t gangs that write in celestial code.  I would get targets in celestial from some folks in the faith that wanted things taken care of.  If the Faith is trying to sow some chaos in the city, I’d be curious as to what.  Wouldn’t you?” He raises a brow as he leaves the message and it’s cypher with Cade.

Emund: Curtis takes a breath.  “I’d just stay low.  There here for.. a particular reason. It won’t be long. I hope.” He puts a hand on his thinning hair.  Tussling it a bit.  A nervous habit he had from back when he had a full head of hair.  “I’ll be making sure that whatever guards come stay in guest wings.  I assume they come with a entourage. But they’re trying to keep this arrival discreet.”  He glanced back at the papers.  “I don’t think there will be a lot of pomp and circumstance with this.  I hope that’s true.  I’d rather not have to pick a side or explain any situations.”

His eyes don’t move off of the papers as he continues.  “That singer is probably no good for her, but she always insists on seeing him.” He shakes his head with a sigh.  “Youth. Wasted in the clouds.  But perhaps that’s a blessing that life grants. The ability to be in the clouds when it’s easier to bounce back from falling from it.” He chuckles, looking back to Emund, realizing he was once again getting ahead of himself.  “I will tell her.  She’s somewhere.  Probably helping with laundry or the kitchen at this hour.”

Cade takes a deep breath. He stares at Keegan, obviously the man doesn't understand. Cade always thought that trust was something that someone has to earn, not something you can give blindly. He didn't care that he was the only skeptical one in the group, he didn't want anyone to get hurt. He knew he had to do one thing. The one thing he grew fond of doing. Lying to himself and lying to everyone around him.

"I don't trust you, Keegan. I was fine all alone, before you came and found me. I didn't want to be found, but that's what you do, find people and drag them back to this town. If I don't trust you, I especially don't trust this sketchy tiefling over here. I've known this guy for what a day and you expectin' me to bend over and wag my tail like a dog. You don't know me, Keegan. I can't trust this guy. Cause if I trust someone too much they wind up dead," Cade responds (Deception: 13)

Tharii looks over at Cade, a small grin on the corner of his mouth.  “I’m not asking you to trust me.  I’m asking you to trust your instincts.  You’re in a city that’s been occupied by a rival force.  A city that requested assistance from the Faith, but the Faith never came.  It now seems that the Faith is doing some dirty work behind the scenes.  Perhaps the answers are similar.  Why they didn’t come to help. Why they allowed so much suffering on so many.”

There’s a brief shrug after.  “But you’re right.  I don’t know you.  I’m placing my trust in our mutual friend here, and hoping that your skills will assist my own goals.”

DM Roll:

"I'm grateful for that, even if she's cursing herself by not shaking want of the lad." Emund grabs Curtis's shoulder and bows his head in gratitude. "And as far as laying low, I will. I'll go as far as going through the motions. Stay well and thank you. With any luck this will pass like any piss-poor rain storm and at worst you'll have catched a sniffle." He smiles and departs the room, leaving Curtis to continue with his preparations.

Rather than depart and remembering that his compatriots had intended to return to the cathedral for their own reasons, Emund decides to perform priestly duties for the people who have come to worship. He'll continue to do this until he notices that his friends have returned or some dangerous looking knights enter (Perception: 16, delayed since I'm trying to kill time until we meet back up, I guess).

Keegan takes a few steps back, a bit shocked at Cade’s reaction. Keegan doesn’t know how to deal with situations when he can’t deflect things with his sarcasm. But something definitely seems off with Cade. Insight check: 20

Tharii shakes his head at Yorvalor's question.  "With some study, he should be able to read it.  They change up their cypher patterns, so don't expect it to last long.  I'd find the source.  Much easier to get information from."  He does note that he gave Cade both scrolls, enabling him to try and figure out what the message is if he decided to take a few hours out of the day with it.

"Orri family?" He looks over the ring before giving a small shrug.  Tossing it back to Yorvalor.  "I've honestly never heard of them.  I could dig around, but, that be lot of resource and time to spend on a dead man."

Yorvalor puts the ring back into his pocket, slightly disappointed. "So I guess we should pay our Orchids friends a visit. I just hope that there is still a sliver of good will for us in that warehouse. I would like to suggest that we go to the Cathedral, look for Emund, and discuss what is our next course of action." He turns to Cade. "I believe that you have a meeting to attend, and I still haven't seen Isabella yet."

Yorvalor asks Tharii. "One last question, if you have another moment. While performing at the Falcon last night, I heard some patrons talk about a privateer called Blackscales. Does that name ring any bells? I am not sure why it picked up my interest."

Tharii chuckles a bit.  He reaches into his pocket, and begins to roll another cigarette while talking.  "Blackscales is a a wonderful menace.  Some say he's a person.  Slew a giant flying beast and now wears its black hide as armor.  Others say it's a term for all the people on their boat.  Children of the Dragon all black as night and brutal to anyone they set their sights on.  A pirate.  Or privateer, taking contract without question for gold and riches."  He taps the cigarette a bit, before placing it in his mouth.  "I've seen the survivors of attacks.  They all come back changed and terrified.  So, whatever Blackscales is, is real.  Figuring out myth from legend is rather hard."  There's the strike of the match as he lights it in his mouth, before shaking out the small flame.  "Few months ago, they took out a boat and I heard a few of the crew survived.  Rumor has it that one of the wreckers here now escaped them.  If that's true, that helmsmen and crew is worth their weight in gold and gems."  

He gives a small nod to both Yorvalor and Cade, before patting Keegan on the shoulder.  "Back to the cuts of a leviathan for me," he said with a smirk.  Laughing a little bit.  "...gutting like a fish..." he seems to step into a group that passes by, but is simply gone by the time they cross over.  Disappearing into the crowds like a ghost.

Cade looks at the scrolls then back to his compatriots. He stares at Keegan for a bit, not really sure what to say. He sighs and heads over to the cathedral. He thought hard about what he did before this. Wandering from town to town. Was this any better? No, it wasn't. He wasn't sure what he wanted. He knew he was happy before the war. He wondered if he could be happy again.

"I am sorry, Keegan," Cade finally says. He wasn't good at apologizing. He didn't wait for Keegan's response. He just continued walking.

When he finally arrived at the Cathedral. He waited for someone to guide him to the archives. He had questions. A lot of them and hopefully he would find some answers

It isn't too long before Emund notices Cade and Yorvalor arrive.  (And possibly Keegan as well, unless he is off to investigate other areas.)

Overall, the main chamber is fairly quiet.  Some people coming and going.  People needing blessings, paying their tributes, and other rote tasks.  Nothing out of the ordinary for any specific day in the Faith; it took many different roles to different members of the community.  And Curtis made sure it was open to all.  

When Cade arrives and requests to be brought down to the archives, he's assigned to be with the Master Archivist, Riktor.  A old gentlemen, hair having gone grey long ago.  One eye was clearly damaged beyond repair; a visible gash running through it and the other was slightly cloudy from age.  His face made him seem so old and frail.  Yet the way he held himself, one wouldn't be able to guess such a thing.  There was poise to him.  A sense of authority.  He tapped the cane he used to help him walk on the ground while he stopped a few feet short of Cade.

"Mr. Foxtrot," the Archivist says with a small bow of the head.  "I'm here to escort you to the archives.  If you do not mind, I will ask of you to leave your weaponry and other things with the cleric who will be happy to write you a receipt for such items left, to make sure that you are returned them.  We request only paper and quill be brought down, as some of the texts are old and we cannot have them leave the main chambers.  Is this alright with you?"