Goblin Town -- Logs

Thorn, for his part, has been spending more time at the infirmary, to make up for the times he's been running to and from the Trod of the Elm. He knows these are extenuating circumstances, but he owes what time he can to Iason and the others. For the time being, with nothing that immediately requires him, he does just that. He also takes the time to occasionally look in on Cinnamon and the others as they do their marathon hacking session, as Spice calls it. Further, he takes the opportunity to remember some tricks some of the infantry grunts had taught him, since he's working on being somewhat more inconspicuous -- a little bit more sneaky. He wants to help, he needs to help, but sometimes that'll mean not being where someone expects it.

Over the time since Thorn's return Iason has noticed the young mage/medic/healer being unobtrusive... and is pleased with it. It's not only warriors that need to be inconspicuous, after all. A 'hole-card,' as the humans call it according to Nikos, is important in many ways. Underestimation can be vital. There are also times that healers need to be quiet and unobtrusive. The ancient centaur takes pains to compliment Thorn on his hard work. He also tries to quietly feel out the medic's knowledge -- and rather than pontificating, seems to have a way of teaching when it appears he's just chatting. Thorn has seen some NCOs teach this way, and is immensely grateful for any lessons Iason can provide. He's always open to learning new things, especially if it'll help him in his work in the infirmary.

When Cinnamon arrives Iason is having another of those conversations with Thorn, discussing the best ways to splint a badly broken limb. He seems interested in the modern methods. Cinnamon's cheerful voice can be heard first, "Good morning, Nikos! I'm here to do the accounting, like I promised!"

Thorn asks the centaur, "Iason...." then realizes he might as well blurt it out: "do you know if there are any seers or scryers? Cinnamon had an idea-" He perks a bit when he hears her voice, "Oh, there she is now!"

Iason was half expecting this question; he smiles his serene smile, "Yes. There are. Both. Scryers are better at seeing things from a distance. Seers are usually better at seeing possible futures. Some can see the past, but it is oddly difficult. One of my teachers said that it had to do with potentiality. Oracles and seers are creatures of potential." His head comes up at the sound of Cinnamon's voice, and he smiles again, "For her first lessons in Italian and Greek." One hand rests heavily but gently on Thorn's shoulder, waiting for Nikos to bring Cinnamon to them. Nikos does just that, chattering cheerfully about nothing much.

Thorn nods thoughtfully, "She had thought that there might be a way to see into the past," he murmurs. "To see if there's some way to see what it was that had poisoned someone."

Cinnamon is laughing and chattering along with Nikos; it hasn't yet hit her just how much calmer she is now about strange body types! She'd be embarrassed at her early insensitivity, however, if she did realize... she very much likes it when everyone around her is happy. She brightens at sight of the two men, "Oh! Good morning, Thorn! Iason, it's nice to see you, and I came to do the accounting for you, please?" She pats her bag, adding proudly, "My little laptop has some really good programs for this on it!"

Iason is still nodding and thinking, "This may sound somewhat... circular. It may be possible for a seer to look into someone's future... and see the echoes of their past. You can sometimes tell where someone has been by where they're going."

Cinnamon looks intrigued, "Really? How cool! Is it hard?"

"It can be. It requires not only the ability to see, but the ability to extrapolate." Iason smiles down at Cinnamon, "Have you come for your lessons or for something else?"

Cinnamon blinks uncertainly at Iason, "Er... the accounting! Like we agreed? And once I'm done, maybe then if you have time you could teach me Italian and Greek, even if it is archaic?" She smiles as she adds, "Thorn had the wonderful idea about seers, after all... so he should be the one that gets to ask you about that!"

Iason ahhs and smiles, "Yes. The accounting. That will be wonderful. The books are..." Nikos grins, "The books are a wreck because Iason cares more about getting people healthy than nitpicking payment."

Cinnamon laughs! She's very happy -- she gets to be useful again! "Lead me to 'em! I've never met an accounting tangle I couldn't fix!" She beams at Thorn as she adds, "If you want, maybe we could do lunch at my place? Spice and Josie are there!"

Thorn smiles. "That'd be wonderful, thank you!" Nikos leads Cinnamon off, chatting cheerfully with her. He never seems to be down for long.

Shortly thereafter, Cinnamon blinks as she stares at the stack of heavy leather ledgers and slightly disheveled stacks of papers and parchments, "This... is all of it? None of it is digital?!" When Nikos assures her this is indeed the case, Cinnamon takes a deep breath... then plops down her bag and rolls up her sleeves. There's determination in her voice as she says, "Well then -- it's high time this accounting job joined this century!" She smiles at Nikos as she adds, "Could I trouble you for a really big glass of water, please... and then a lot of peace and quiet until lunchtime?" After that Cinnamon sets to work with a will! She's relieved to discover that while she has to do all the data entry by hand... at least the scribe's handwriting is nice and legible. Glancing over the various tomes again, she nods firmly to herself -- definitely going to take a while, but eminently doable! Good, she won't feel at all guilty about asking for lessons for two languages after this!

Once Cinnamon is working on the infirmary's books, Thorn asks Iason in more detail about what a seer can or can't find ... and if they have a chance of getting a seer's help in finding out what happened that fateful, rainy day at the trod. Iason nods slowly, "A seer sees potential futures and gets... well, I'm not good with numbers but there is a feeling about how likely the future is. No future is completely certain because the universe loves chaos and hates stagnation."

Thorn nods quietly to Iason, "So it's roughly possible, by looking at someone's future, to see what happened in their past? Why is it so hard to look into the past?"

Iason says, "As I understand it, the past is gone. It's solid. Oracles and seers, at least amongst my people, are creatures of potentiality... councilors and guides to what must be done. What has been done can't be changed."

Thorn taps his chin thoughtfully, "So what we should be looking for is not an oracle or a seer, is what you're saying, but... someone else?"

Iason smiles, "No. I am saying that should you find the right oracle, they can help." His deep brown eyes twinkle slightly, "Or they can see if you catch the person you're looking for and guide you to how to find them."

Thorn blinks. "Well. That's... both a roundabout and surprisingly direct way of doing it. It feels like cheating... but then again, magic sometimes feels like cheating too. Okay, then. How would we go about finding such an oracle?"

Iason smiles again, and there's actual teasing in his voice, "For you? Ask me to have a meal with you and your companions."

Thorn blinks again, then smiles quietly, "Iason, would you please have lunch with us?"

Iason chuckles and says, "I believe Cinnamon mentioned lunch, so let us do that." He pats Thorn on the shoulder, "Now, back to splints..."

The handful of hours before lunch go pleasantly enough... or at least as pleasantly as manual data entry of some truly egregiously out-of-date information, and tending to injured and ill people can -- especially when there is a case that makes that conversation about splints quite handy. As noon comes Iason leaves Nikos and one of the other medics in charge of the infirmary and lets Cinnamon know it's lunchtime. If he has gauged her right, she will have become lost in her work. Indeed, Cinnamon looks up, blinking absently, then pushes up her glasses and says inelegantly, "Uh... whu'?" Once she realizes what's up, though, she swiftly wraps up what she's doing and is soon ready to go.

Thorn lets Cinnamon know that Iason will be joining them for lunch, actually, if that's okay with her? He doesn't want to outright tell her what Iason told him -- at least not yet -- and only in private. He also thinks it's moderately rude to talk about Iason like that in front of him. Cinnamon is a bit bubbly -- she thinks the data entry will be the hardest part of this job, which means the rest of it should be fine! She also shyly asks Iason if there's a restaurant near here that he likes? She doesn't quite have the nerve to ask him if he can't eat meat or what... so this, she figures, is the safest way to make sure there's a good meal for him at her house -- they'll just get a bunch of food to go! Iason smiles, "Let us go to the medic's quarters. The cooks there will be preparing lunch and we can be private and quiet there. Besides, I may need some things from my rooms."

Cinnamon blinks at Iason, "Er... okay? We can... carry the food to my place, then, right? Or... we could eat here too, I suppose?"

Iason ahhs, "If you wish to go to your place, yes, I can carry the food. But I will still need things from my rooms."

Cinnamon thinks for a moment... then smiles, "Let's eat here, if that's okay. Spice will be busy, after all."

Iason smiles and nods, "Come with me, then." The quarters for the medics aren't that far from the infirmary. There's a dining room, but Iason has rooms that include a sitting room that's big enough for the centaur and a handful of other people. He has the food sent there. The noon meal consists of cool or chilled foods that are still energy-dense. Cheeses, various olives, bread, and some sort of flaky, cured fish along with a very light and, Iason assures them, almost non-alcoholic wine. There is also water and a chilled, minty tea of some sort.

Cinnamon happily helps herself -- she's quite hungry after so much brain work! As she does so, she curiously checks: anything interesting on the seer front? She laughs upon hearing the suggestion to ask if they catch the person they're seeking, then grins curiously and asks, "Could a seer perhaps 'see' if the person who poisoned Branigan is going to try poisoning more in the future?" Chewing through a piece of bread, she cheerfully adds, "It's a loaded question, of course -- Branigan might not have done it! But it's worth asking, perhaps?"

Iason chuckles again, "Perhaps. It is not a science. It is a religious observance and an art, and one piece of information may flow from another. I would start with yourself. It's harder to see something about someone not present at the moment of the prophecy."

Cinnamon nods thoughtfully, "Well, all right. So... you're suggesting we ask an oracle if I figure out who the attacker is?" She pauses, then says slowly, "Actually... Iason, may we please ask you to mention this to no one? We're still not sure who it is -- all we know for sure is they're willing to murder for this! We don't want to lose you too, you know?"

Iason says, "There is a reason I do not let that particular part of my abilities be known. It can be dangerous to be an oracle if someone is afraid you may reveal something they want kept hidden. It is also a sacred thing. I would not tell your prophecy to someone else unless it crossed with yours."

Cinnamon's eyes widen, "So you are an oracle! Oh my gosh that is so awesome, Iason! Yes, please -- may we ask you if we catch the guy doing these horrible murders?!" Thorn is quietly listening. He doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he starts to get a little bit of a headache! He feels himself trembling faintly with excitement -- he knew magic was capable of miraculous things, but this... he hadn't imagined. Is it possible they'll find who they're looking for with Iason's help? It still feels like cheating -- but he'll take that and run with it!

Iason chuckles, "Relax. Finish your meal. I will be back in perhaps twenty minutes. I have to make preparations of my own." He turns and clops off further into his suite of rooms.

Cinnamon nods quickly, her eyes still wide -- then turns to Thorn and gives a small happy-squeee! once Iason has left the room, "Eeee! Isn't this exciting, Thorn?! We're going to find out how to grab this guy yet!"

Thorn lets out the breath he'd been holding and beams to Cinnamon. "Hopefully, yes!" he says. "And hopefully now, I didn't even expect that!"

Cinnamon is nearly bouncing in her chair with excitement! She pops some tasty olives into her mouth, her eyes shining with happiness, and after chewing and swallowing she says almost fiercely, "We are going to get this bad person, too -- no matter what!"

Iason's estimate of twenty minutes turns out to be a little generous; it's actually more like half an hour. When he returns, his pupils are dilated enough that his eyes look black rather than brown and he's carrying a broad, shallow bowl with perhaps two inches of water in it. He sets it down at his place and intones, "What do you seek?" The cadence is slightly odd, as if he's translated something else to English.

Thorn is equally happy, but he's keeping an eye over to Iason's chambers. He doesn't want to think that, with them so close, there's a chance the centaur might be killed. But Iason's appearance both reassures and ratchets up Thorn's worry. This is a level of magic Thorn is absolutely not familiar with. He glances to Cinnamon, letting her ask. Cinnamon blinks startledly at Iason, leaning back a little... but then clenches her hands together and tries not to be nervous, "Oh! Uhh, we... wait, let me think... okay." Her voice is slow as she picks her words carefully, "I... do I figure out who..." Her mind races: ask about the modern murders, or the old one? She dithers for a few seconds, then takes a deep breath -- she can use her skills as an accountant to find out the trod's attacker! Plus... she bets Shane would really like to know this... and she'd like to help Shane if she can -- he's been so good to her! She finishes her sentence with nervous firmness, "...killed Branigan?"

One other difference: Iason is not wearing his healer's whites. Instead, he's wearing a short purple chiton. His hands shift over the surface of the water and it begins to gently steam. Or perhaps not steam. It is more like the mist of an early morning. He leans forward and puts his face into it and breathes in deeply. To the other two people there is a faint scent of myrrh. Iason's eyes close and his breathing slows. When he speaks again, his normally deep voice is even deeper and seems to hold an echo of itself, "You find what you seek. You tread the edge of war. It will require balance. It is a razor's edge. There will be pain and there will be blood, but it will be sacred blood and it will help to cleanse the cancer. You will start in the isles of the sidhe and beansidhe and you will find the traitor in the midst that slew the great chieftain."

Thorn shivers quietly. Ireland. Iason is speaking of Ireland. 'Traitor in the midst....' They need to go to the trod where Branigan was killed. Cinnamon's eyes are huge as she stares in awe at Iason -- this is, weirdly enough, a little like she always imagined a centaur should be... back when she was a small child who wanted to marry one! She takes a quick, gasping breath as she glances at Thorn, unsure what to do next. Ask another question? Help Iason recover? What?! Thorn glances to Cinnamon too, swallowing and also not sure what to do! Press for more detail? Ask something else? No, this looks like it's taking its toll on the healer. Cinnamon bites her lip as she realizes Thorn doesn't know what to do either! She whispers, "Should we... go get Nikos? Ask another question?"

Thorn whispers back, "I'm not sure we should. We know where to go now, though. We should... um, wake him up? Or carefully help him recover-?" He breaks off as Iason starts talking again. The centaur's voice goes on, "Take the scion of the chieftain. Take the repentant one and take the child of lightning. If the moon's child will go, she will be useful. Her answer is not clear..." He breathes in deeply again and his human torso sways. He shakes his head in a very equine way and then raises it, looking first at Thorn and then at Cinnamon, but it's hard to tell if he's actually seeing them, "This is as far as I see. My dreams have said you bring peace in your wake."

Thorn blinks to Iason... then says reverently, "Thank you."

Cinnamon's eyes light up and she gasps -- she would love to bring peace! All the fighting and killing kind of scares her, honestly... her face brightens as she echoes Thorn, "Oh, thank you so much, Iason!" She hastily grabs up her notebook and scribbles down the prophecy... then pauses and looks up again, her voice confused, "Child of... lightning? Who's that, Thorn? Do you know? Oh!" She abruptly sits up straight, "Lightning... like electricity? Spice? The hacker?"

Thorn says, "That would be my guess, yes. And the moon's child is doubtless Josie." He looks back to Iason, hesitating before putting a gentle hand on the centaur's arm. He swallows, and wonders how much of a cost to Iason this was.

Iason doesn't seem to be hearing them talking. He closes his eyes again and then relaxes when Thorn puts a hand on his arm. His free hand waves over the bowl and the fumes cease rising. When those brown eyes open again, the pupils are back to a more normal size and he's smiling tiredly, "I never remember what I say. Was it useful?"

Cinnamon beams at Thorn, "I'm more confident now that we find the current murderer too, now!" She blinks, realizing Iason's still looking odd, and hastily sets her notebook and pencil aside, "Oh -- Iason! Are you okay? Do you need anything?" When she realizes he's asked a question, though, she says excitedly, "Oh my gosh, yes -- thank you so much, Iason! What can we do to help you right now?!"

When Iason is somewhat recovered, he asks Thorn to send Nikos to him, and makes his apologies before going back to what must be his sleeping quarters. One of the folks who seem to be general servants come and clear the food and make sure the guests are okay until they're ready to leave. Cinnamon goes back to data entry, though she's still excited about the prophecy -- she can't wait to share it with Shane and Spice and Josie! She almost skips home that evening... which is when she finds out the day was a bust for Spice. She plays a few hands of cards with them just to help Spice feel better.

On day five Spice is still struggling a little, but Dmitry drags something out of his memory that lets them start gaining ground. The next day is the same, with Dmitry dredging up tricks and information that helps them creep a little closer. On the seventh day Dmitry is able to give one hint that breaks things wide open! Spice laughs almost exultantly, and she ignores her alarms, saying she doesn't dare take a break for fear the company's computer security will slam down and stop her. At one point she glances up and grins at Cinnamon, "I could fuckin' own this place if I wanted... as it is, I really wanna move about $100,000,000 of their money into various accounts to help people, and some for us to work on this big project of yours, bosslady."

Cinnamon looks up from her language lessons and blinks thoughtfully, pushing her glasses up into place again. Her voice is slow and a little worried, "Would that... be, er... ethical of us, though? I mean, I don't have a problem with having them pay for the work we've done, and I'm happy to give a chunk of money to the Trod of the Elm -- with the proviso that we understand this doesn't bring back beloved trod members, but maybe it can help with... with something else they need or want? But... past that, um..." Her voice trails off and she glances at the others. She wishes Shane were here! He's a really good moral compass, from what she can tell, for supernatural stuff!

Spice shrugs and smiles, "Hey, up to you. They owe more than that in restitution for the lives they took and the ones they fucked up. The trod may not need money, but..." she shrugs, "I'm going to take it and we'll figure out what to do with it later. Besides, leaving some account irregularities -- which I'm sure you can help with -- would be a great thing to report to the SEC."

Cinnamon nods slowly, thinking hard... then decides this should be okay as long as they don't benefit from it. Payment is one thing -- but making a mint by being a thief? That she isn't comfortable with. "Um... okay. That should work." A moment later she adds, "Let me know when you want help with the account irregularities, okay?"

Spice nods, smiling as she watches Cinnamon mull it over. Dmitry murmurs relaxedly, "I'll help you find some of the operations files. It should help you redirect some money to help."

Cinnamon blinks as something registers, then twists her fingers together a little nervously as she hesitantly adds, "Also, you, um, you... like, you do know I d-don't think of you like, uh, like... like a m-minion or servant or anything, r-right? I mean, you totally don't have to call me boss or stuff like that if you d-don't want to, you know?"

Spice arches a brow and pushes her hair out of her face, "I'm not a good minion, but you're the idea person on this. It's your show. You're the boss. I don't feel obligated, it just amuses me."

Cinnamon blushes a bit as she thinks about that... then nods slowly, "Ok-kay then. As long as it's still fun for you, then I'm good." She smiles a little uncertainly at Spice as she tentatively adds, "Y-yes?"

The little dragon looks inordinately relieved at Spice's quick grin and nod, "Yes. It's fun! I'm the IT gremlin here. You're the one with the plan. Makes sense to me."

When Spice said she was ready to hand over the data, Cinnamon shut down her Italian on-line language lesson with a touch of regret -- it's been surprisingly fun and easy to progress through each designated training session! She wonders briefly if Greek will seem as simple to her, but then realizes it's likely just that she's not yet got to the difficult stuff in her Italian. That's all right -- Iason will help her next week! She's excited to get to work, as Spice hands her the thumb-drive of data appropriated from the Ukrainian mercenary company. She inserts it into her carefully internet-disconnected laptop and opens up her array of accounting programs. She has a handful of them, all purchased for her own use -- she'd learned early in her job that different companies and people seem to prefer different programs, so she might as well have them all for just in case!

That first day is occupied mostly with wading through the translation mess necessary in order for Cinnamon to be able to read anything -- after all, she speaks no Ukrainian! Fortunately, at her initial exclamation of dismay, Dmitry quietly notes that he speaks a bit of that language -- it's just not his mother tongue. She gladly accepts his help, and by the end of the day they've made definitive progress: all the files are now legible to Cinnamon! She wonders with quiet internal pleasure if this is what having a brother is like. If so... she's glad Dmitry is here!

It doesn't occur to her, interestingly enough, that Shane never enters into her thoughts of brothers. To her, Shane is a friend! She doesn't really 'get' relationships very well yet, after all, considering her own life experience. To her, friendship -- real friendship -- is hugely more important and intimate-feeling to her than siblinghood could ever be. She's already experienced how much having sisters stinks, after all! Or so she believes... but not having had a brother, she finds herself wondering if big brothers are maybe nicer to their little sisters?

The second day is also quite productive for Cinnamon, as she swiftly sorts through the reams and reams of data, neatly selecting out any and everything that looks to be associated with any sort of payments or banking whatsoever. She can't help tiny internal giggles, though, every time she glances up and sees Spice and Josie together. The two of them are getting more and more comfortable with each other -- to the point that they apparently don't realize just how much they're almost cuddling together as Spice works!

During lunch of that day Spice glances over at Dmitry, studying the elaborate snake tattoos. Even though scars mar some of them, the ones on the backs of his hands are still bright and colorful. She asks curiously, "So what are those for -- the snake tattoos?"

Dmitry has just taken a bite of food, so Cinnamon grins and says, "I know! Can I tell her, Dmitry?" Mouth full, the slightly amused older man nods, and Cinnamon says happily, "It's a 'smok'! It's a Bulgarian story: the smok is a really special snake that in 40 years turns into... in... to..." Her voice trails off as she blinks, still studying the tattoos as thoughts race through her mind. Dmitry has the tattoos of the snakes' heads on the backs of his hands... was that to make his hands as fast and lethal as he imagined the smok to be? Also: forty years, and Dmitry is forty one... and just had what he called a religious epiphany...? Cinnamon's startled gaze rises slowly to Dmitry's face as she says softly, "...you. It's you, isn't it? You wanted to be the smok?" She considers a few seconds further -- then abruptly brightens, "Oh! Is your family related to a dra- er, to a zmei too?"

Dmitry chuckles softly, "No. We are not related to a zmei. At least my family line is not. My grandmothers were holy women; my grandfathers were holy men. My father... he was an outsider and took us away because he thought my mother's family was crazy."

Cinnamon blinks thoughtfully as she pushes her glasses up... then her face softens in sympathy, and she reaches forward to lightly pat the ex-mercenary's hand, "I'm so sorry, Dmitry!" Sitting back, she adds dryly, "Believe me, I know what it's like to have a, er... an unsympathetic dad."

She grins a bit sheepishly at Shane's snort! He expands upon the snort for Dmitry, "She's being generous. Her father's an insufferable prick and a bully. Her mom and sister are approximately as deep as a mud puddle... if that's not insulting mud puddles." He doesn't expand on that far enough to explain his last encounter with Cinnamon's dad.

Cinnamon looks a little uncomfortable, "Oh, they're not... er, I mean... well, but they... they can be, er, charming...?" She bites her lower lip, realizing just how shallow that still makes her family sound... then hastily rushes on, "So! Uh, Dmitry... so then are you saying your family's kind of like Spice's, in that you're connected to a dragon linea- ooooh!" She brightens again, "Do you know a Bulgarian dragon, then?!" She wonders if such a dragon would be willing to talk to -- perhaps even give some pointers to? -- a nearly-baby Welsh dragon? Carefully suppressed in the back of her mind is her reaction to Shane's words. She knows he's right -- she knows this! -- but despite that knowledge, there's still a tiny 'sad/hopeful/very little girl' part of herself, waaay deep inside, that still cares -- even though she knows it's a really bad idea... that still hopes, even in the face of overwhelming data to the contrary... that one day, some day... her father might be proud of his little girl.

Dmitry seems to be considering his answer carefully for a moment, "When I was very small my grandmother took me to see a very old man who told my fortune. When we left, she told me that I had been very privileged to meet a zmei. I was quite small, as I said, and I do not remember much about him. He was very kind and he had very dark eyes... though whether they were blue or brown, I could not say." Cinnamon's eyes widen in fascination as she listens! The former mercenary puts down the book he was reading and continues. "It was only a very few years after that, that my father... he stole us. He told my mother and me that he was taking us to somewhere safe from crazy people, but it was kidnapping in almost every way. My mother did not want to go, but she went. I think she was very scared. I know that I was very scared and then very angry."

Dmitry shrugs and looks down at his hands, turning them this way and that, "I rebelled. My anger made me violent. I left as soon as I could and I began down the wrong path. I think one of the few things I did right was to get the tattoos that reminded me of the smok and the zmei. I wonder now if I did it as a code word... as if I made myself a sleeper cell."

Cinnamon tilts her head puzzledly, "A... sleeper cell? Explain, please?"

"A sleeper cell," Dmitry continues, "is a cell of terrorists or spies that integrates into their new world. They get jobs. They have relationships. Many marry and have children. They lie in wait. They almost forget who they are... until they are awoken by some kind of trigger."

Cinnamon covers her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide with shock, "Oh... how horrible! The poor families -- do they just get abandoned and betrayed?!"

Dmitry's smile is sad, "Some of them, yes. But I have heard tales of sleepers that went so deep that they became their cover. They refused to be awakened to their tasks."

Cinnamon thinks about that, blinking slowly as she pushes her glasses back into place. Finally she looks up at Dmitry and says softly, "Did you... did you ever get to go back home? To see your grandmother and the rest of your family, and to meet the zmei again? Oh, and what happened to your mother?! Is she okay now?"

"I did not get to go back yet," Dmitry smiles a bit tiredly, "but I plan to go once this is over. My grandparents are probably dead, but I have aunts and uncles and cousins. They are probably still there... and if they have carried on in the proper path, I may again meet the zmei."

Cinnamon sighs softly, almost longingly, "Oh, my... another dragon! Dmitry, can I give you my number, and could you ask him if he'd be willing to meet and talk with me? And then call me and tell me what his answer is, please?" Her small smile is nervous as she quietly adds, "I... I would love any pointers or, or wisdom he might be willing to share with a baby dragon!"

Dmitry can't help a warm smile at that, "I will let them know. My aunt was in training to become a holy woman. If he still lives, I am sure the zmei will want to meet you." Cinnamon finds that statement oddly comforting!

Dmitry has been waiting for Shane to give him the 'you hurt them and I'll kill you' talk about Cinnamon and Josie. At some point he finally decides to deal with the anxiety in the quickest way. Shane has just finished showering and is standing in the kitchen area of the little apartment. It's separated from the living room area by general consensus, since there's no actual counter separating them. He's still got his towel around his neck and his long dark hair is still wet. From the waist down, he's wearing a pair of simple black drawstring pajama pants, in deference to having a guest. Given his druthers, he'd rather air dry. He's putting together a small dinner for himself and the former mercenary. It's a simple meal of sandwiches and soup, but all the ingredients were fresh-bought that morning on Coblyn.

Dmitry has noticed Shane absolutely never hesitates to turn his back on his temporary guest/ward. That had been the first curious thing the former merc noticed... there had been others. After some internal consideration Dmitry finally clears his throat, "Shane..."

Shane turns his head enough to get Dmitry partially in view, "Yes?"

"I was wondering..." Dmitry motions around the apartment. It's only a half-step up from an efficiency, in that there's an almost closet-sized bedroom. It's quite spare, with simple and utilitarian furniture -- except for the shelves. Shane has moved in multiple sets of bookshelves which are about half books and half a large and varied collection of mythical animal figurines. The former merc continues, "Why do you not lock the door? Or worry about me sleeping in this room... instead of putting yourself here and me in your room? Wouldn't that be the better way to keep a prisoner secure?"

Shane finishes putting together the bacon and tomato sandwiches and turns fully around to face Dmitry, "Prisoner?"

The former merc clears his throat, "After all, I did attempt to kill you."

"You did, didn't you." Shane looks closely at Dmitry, "Are you sorry?"

"Yes. Very much." Dmitry's scar-twisted smile is wry, "It was a terrible thing to do."

"Do you plan on trying to kill me or mine again?" Shane's tone is mildly curious. Anyone who didn't know Shane might think the tone didn't fit the question or the situation. People who do know Shane understand that he's nearly unflappable.

Dmitry blinks and slowly shakes his head, "No. Never again. I will only kill to defend myself or others. What I did before was a disgrace."

Shane's expression goes from curious to smiling, "I believe you. So why would you be a prisoner? You staying here and me escorting you back and forth... that's not because you're a prisoner. It's because you need protection." He pauses and adds, "Which leads me to ask... did they leave you a weapon? The trod?"

"No. They did not. And I did not ask for one. I did not think it right." Dmitry shrugs, "After all..."

"After all, you made a huge fuckin' mistake and you're not going to make a mistake like that again," Shane grins. There's a chivalrous part of himself that tries to watch his language around ladies or other folk that he thinks might have delicate sensibilities. Dmitry isn't delicate like that, though. "If you're in protective custody, we might want to arm you." He looks the merc up and down, "I know you've had close-combat hand-to-hand training. What about weapons? Guns are out. I dislike them unless they're being used for hunting or for self-defense by someone that doesn't have other means. But I do have some blades...?"

Dmitry is a little stunned but also quite pleased, "I would like a blade, yes. If only to defend the ladies and the healer." He chuckles as he realizes he's talking about a dragon, a seven-foot-tall wolf shifter, and a combat medic, "Well, myself and Spice."

After that, the two men go through Shane's -- impressive even to a former merc! -- collection of blades and choose a pair for Dmitry to carry. "After all," Shane adds, "there are going to be some fireworks at the council meeting. Best to be prepared."

The merc looks surprised, "We'll be able to go in armed?"

Shane grins, "Coblyn is still a couple centuries back on laws dealing with carrying weapons. Guns must be registered, but almost everyone has a blade or two on them. It's simply considered what one does." He claps the merc on the shoulder, "Let's eat and get some rest. You'll be helping the ladies work hard tomorrow."

The third day of accounting is slower for Cinnamon, as she's now analyzing and experimenting with the remaining financial data -- trying to find a pattern that demonstrates which of her programs would work best for deeper mathematical investigation. She narrows it down, then happily decides which program would be most beneficial to use... and the fourth day is the slow drudgery of data entry and cross-checking to ensure she's made no mistakes whatsoever. It's clear there's been a concerted effort to 'cook the books' by this firm, after all. Her breaks are very welcome on that day -- data entry bores her, but she knows its accuracy is critical to her work! At lunch she chatters happily of math and accounting to her mostly-uncomprehending companions, gleeful at how close she is to being able to figure out who the 'boss monster' finally is.

Day five: finally! Cinnamon is excited -- today she gets to actually analyze the data! She sifts through it with growing pleasure and ease, neatly organizing and building a mental picture of just who is doing what, and when. She gets so immersed into the beauty of the math that she has to be pulled away for breaks... and by the sixth day she feels like she can literally see the trails left by the flow of assets in and out of the company! She keeps working with feverish pleasure and enjoyment... until at the end of the day she sits up and laughs aloud! "Got 'em!" When everyone looks up at her, she beams, her eyes bright with excitement, "I think I've found the precise payment for the attack on the trod, peeps! The bank is in Nigeria, and the codename associated with the payment is 'Closet.' Sounds like someone who wants to reveal, huh?!"

There is great excitement at that announcement! Cinnamon looks around, still beaming, for the first time in almost a week -- she tends to tune out the rest of the world when she's working on seriously knotted accounting jobs -- and blinks when she realizes Spice, Josie, Dmitry, Shane, and Thorn are all there! In the gleeful tangle of explanations, updating, and dinner preparation and consumption, the little dragon hears what Spice -- and, by extension, Dmitry -- have been up to for the past week.

Apparently, with Dmitry's able assistance, the intrepid young hacker has run with mad exuberance through the records of the Russian mercenary corporation -- dumping some money via untraceable routes into her account for personal payment, and some (with Josie's help) in an account held by John at the Vault, so as to pay Cinnamon for the monitors and other expenses. There's also a big chunk of cash there now which Cinnamon can gift to representatives of the Trod of the Elm. Best of all, Dmitry helped Spice track down some of the folks who were actually harmed by the mercenaries -- and Spice has left financial assistance in their accounts as well. As the smugly pleased hacker notes, it's about time they received some benefit from the company that damaged them in the first place!

During these last weeks, Thorn has been working on his skills but also exploring the uses of his magic as well. He's hardly ever used it before, and now it seems like Athala's gift could come in more useful now that he's found a home, and even more so now that he works in the infirmary. He's been experimenting with using it to heal, and is very satisfied with the results. Cinnamon is quite complimentary when Thorn talks about that -- she thinks that's an awesome use of his talents! Further, when Thorn explains what he's been doing, Spice and Dmitry both perk up. Spice leans in toward him and says, "Wait... so you're like a cleric in D&D? You can magically heal people?" Dmitry, having spent time with the elves in the Trod of the Elm, seems to be taking this somewhat more in stride.

Cinnamon giggles at that! Josie grins at Spice's enthusiasm, as Cinnamon enthusiastically agrees, "He totally is, Spice! Ask him about healing Jaeger!" Spice turns toward Thorn expectantly -- she figures she doesn't have to repeat the question. Cinnamon beams rather proudly at Thorn as she nibbles on her dinner.

Thorn blinks to Spice, "That's... sort of one way of putting it. Though I'm not bound to any god."

Cinnamon giggles again! "Hey, there are other classes that heal too -- and not all the clerics have to have gods!" She blinks, then blushes as she realizes just what a geek she's revealed herself to be -- and hastily returns to nibbling her dinner.

Josie grins, "He's bound to an elf, though -- and he's got a familiar!"

"Well," Thorn says to Josie, "I guess there is that. As for the familiar...." He looks around, then carefully opens a window so as to not disturb Cinnamon's protections, "Come on in, pretty lady, just for a little bit to introduce you to Spice."

Shane, who's there having dinner prior to take Dmitry back to his place, leans over a little to Cinnamon and murmurs, "Ask Josie about her ranger sometime."

There's a moment... but then Erin flies in through the window and immediately perches on Thorn's shoulder to start preening his hair. Apparently as far as she's concerned, her person always needs his hair preened. Spice leans forward in fascination, "Whoa! They're related to crows, right?" The little hacker just seems to have a lot of enthusiasm about everything in this new place!

Thorn nods, then smiles quietly as Erin preens him, "She's a magpie, and yes, they're related to crows. Of course, Erin is really, really bright." Erin sits up and poses a little at that -- she apparently likes praise! She also apparently understands English quite well. Then she settles down happily on Thorn's shoulder.

Cinnamon glances startledly at Shane, pushing her glasses up... then blinks at Josie. Her voice is pitched low, just to Shane (she thinks) as she murmurs in fascination, "You all play D&D too?!"

Shane grins. He'd hoped that would take the edge of Cinnamon's embarrassment, "Yeah, but we play in a pre-colonization world."

Josie's ears flush, "I know it's silly when we know there's magic and stuff, but I think the monsters are really funny."

Cinnamon blinks confusedly at Shane, "Pre... colonization? Explain, please?" She blushes hotly when she realizes Josie overheard, muttering, "Sorry, Jo... d-don't mean to be rude!"

Josie shakes her head and grins, "It's okay. He means before the Europeans ran all over everything." She hurries on to say, "Not that I don't like European-bred people!" Of course, everyone in the room has some European ancestry... except Josie herself.

Cinnamon blinks slowly, thinking about that... then shyly glances between Josie and Shane as she asks, "Do you... when do you all game? D-do you need, er... any, um, like... new players, maybe?"

Josie replies, "Only once a month or so. Elias thinks it's funny, but he hosts us since he's got the most sitting-places."

Shane smiles, "Of course you're welcome." He looks at Thorn, "You, too." Spice is still looking eagerly at Thorn and Erin.

Cinnamon gives Shane a shyly happy smile, then nods slowly and thoughtfully... then straightens as she's reminded of something, "Oh! Wait, wait -- so, like, what's our next step in figuring out who the boss monster is?"

Thorn blinks, "I've... never played before."

Spice grins at that, "I have. But it never seemed... with the history of my family, it seemed weird pretending dragons aren't actually real -- and playing a game where you pretend they don't really exist, but they do in the game?"

Cinnamon giggles at that! Then she thinks aloud, "But... returning to the bank stuff? We can't just go to the bank -- it's in Nigeria. So... ah! I'll just pick out where the deposit originated from -- that should do it, right?"

Spice asks, "The bank? That's no problem. We've got the account numbers. This stuff is almost all done electronically, after all. Since we've tracked it to the actual bank... that might be a little harder to crack into and find the owner. But it certainly narrows things down some. Most people trying to hide money go for the Caymans or Switzerland."

Cinnamon nods slowly as she thinks about that, musing, "If we track it back... we're not harming the originating bank at all, are we? I mean, they didn't do anything to us, right?" She frowns thoughtfully, adding, "We have the precise amount paid, too. I wonder... if we asked John if anyone made a withdrawal of that amount in the past, oh... month? ...do you think he might tell us?"

Shane muses, "Liiikely not. He takes privacy very seriously. You wouldn't want him telling your transactions, right?"

Spice mmms, "The owner of the account might get cagey if their money is suddenly all gone."

Thorn adds, "And if they're smart, they don't keep their money just with John. But... this is a thought."

Dmitry speaks up quietly, "Many of the company's clients created temporary accounts so as not to have it tracked back too closely to them."

Spice ahhhs, "Financial equivalent of a burner phone!"

Cinnamon nods slowly again, looking slightly regretful, "While I agree re wanting to trust John... I really think we need to know who the person is before we make any accusations." She licks her fingers clean from dessert, then sighs, "Well, then I still want to know: what's next on this?"

Thorn nods agreement with Cinnamon, then considers, "Is it possible to see if the person who paid for that operation did in fact use a 'burner account'?"

Spice considers, "Well we've got the banking info, right? I think we can follow the money a little further. Check for other transactions, maybe?" With a little work, Spice and Cinnamon work out a plan of attack. After all, if they can track other transactions out of the Nigerian account, that'll narrow down the originator. In fact, it only takes a little more digging for Spice and Cinnamon to track down some other transactions... most of which are in and around Boston -- and one of which is a large deposit from a Bostonian account. Cinnamon gets excited again -- she feels more and more almost as if she can see the transactions flowing through the numbers!

With a little more poking around, they find there are a few places where the Nigerian account is used regularly. One of them is an Ethiopian restaurant. Another is a grocery specializing in African foods. A third is apparently strictly recreational: whoever this is spends a great deal of time at the movies. Cinnamon looks pleased, "Okay! So we've got proof now that it's very likely either one of, or someone close to, the councilors -- and anecdotal proof that it's one of the reveal faction." She sits up and beams at Dmitry, "And it's used often at that Ethiopian restaurant too!"

Dmitry nods, "Then whoever did this is not as smart as they think they are, I think." In fact, Spice is able to get into the Ethiopian restaurant's POS system to search for any other accounts that show up as spending money there only on the days when the Nigerian account does as well... and perhaps unsurprisingly, they find one -- the Bostonian account! It's not a 100% overlap, of course, but it's certainly around 65% -- far too much to just be a coincidence. A little more digging finds overlaps of the two accounts at other places as well. Admittedly, most often the overlap is at the Ethiopian restaurant, but sometimes it happens at other restaurants too.

Cinnamon takes a bit to ascertain what bank the Bostonian account is in, then checks to discover it's a small one in an Irish part of town -- Boston can be rather strictly divided amongst nationalities, after all. Perhaps more interestingly, the Boston account shows some large withdrawals at those times of restaurant overlap, though they're usually slightly less than $10,000 -- and Cinnamon knows the IRS doesn't tend to investigate deposits under $10,000. This strongly suggests that the account which the deposits are being funneled to is based in the US. However, Cinnamon isn't finding any corresponding deposits into the Nigerian account -- the one used to pay the mercenaries, which they now believe is owned by Moustapha. Consequently Cinnamon concludes Moustapha has another, more secret, account elsewhere -- one in which he's stashing the money he's being paid by whoever owns the Boston account. The little dragon hmms, muttering to herself, "Another account, eh? Let's see if we can find it..." She looks up at everyone else, "So is there any way to bluff the bank in Boston into giving out the account's owner?"

Spice has shifted by now to sit somewhat between Josie and Thorn -- and she keeps looking curiously at Erin. Thorn thinks hard. "There must be a way," he replies. "Scammers do it almost all the time."

Shane nods, "It's true. You've got the account information. You can probably access a lot of the information if you can find a backdoor..."

Dmitry muses, "Or simply see if there is a pattern of his visits to this restaurant...?" In fact, they find there's a transaction in both accounts at the restaurant, almost every Wednesday between 6:00 and 8:30 p.m.

Cinnamon nods, "Let's go both routes! This is a serious enough accusation, after all, that I want all the data we can collect!" She glances at Spice, "Can you search for a backdoor on the Boston account? -and I'll go check out the restaurant this upcoming Wednesday."

Dmitry frowns consideringly, "If you do this, please let me go with you. I could identify him if he was there, perhaps."

Shane adds firmly, "Which means me going as well."

Cinnamon sighs thoughtfully, "I have to go to the infirmary tomorrow, since I promised Iason I'd be by on a biweekly basis..." She blinks at both men, then giggles as she pushes her glasses into place, "Dmitry, you can't go as you! Though... Shane, will the 'don't see me' necklace work off Coblyn too?"

Shane considers, "It might at that. We can test it beforehand."

Cinnamon nods, "We better. If it is indeed Moustapha and the 'big bad,' and they see Dmitry there, they'll likely get very suspicious!" She grins hopefully at Spice, "So, do you think you can do it?"

Spice mmms, "Probably? Banks are a little tricky, but I'll dig in."

Dmitry touches his face; the burns are going to leave scars, "I do not much look like my old self anymore."

Shane looks at Thorn, "You should come as well, just in case things get hairy."

Thorn says gently, "If he sees any of us there, he'll get suspicious." He nods, "I think I can go there. Heh... my thought exactly, Shane."

Cinnamon shakes her head at Thorn, "Not if it's Shane showing us some of the local restaurants because we wanted to try more ethnic food, Thorn." She studies Dmitry for a moment... then smiles, "You look more... more at peace with yourself?"

Dmitry smiles relaxedly, "Call it a religious epiphany, if you wish."

Shane grins, "Like Bob Ross and being a DI."

Cinnamon glances around the room at everyone there, and sighs in quiet happiness. What a strangely satisfying feeling it is, having friends! "Okay, then! We have a plan, right? I've got errands to run tomorrow, Spice is going to try backdooring the bank, and most of us are going to the Ethiopian restaurant for dinner the next day... yes?" The night concludes pleasantly, and everyone who is going to disperse does so: Shane and Dmitry head off together, escorting Thorn to the infirmary before they head back to the paladin's apartment, while Josie and Spice cuddle up together like usual -- which makes Cinnamon giggle with quiet delight to herself! She's really pleased to see Josie and Spice so happy together.

The next morning begins like usual: Shane brings over Dmitry, Josie makes sure everyone has breakfast, and then after Shane has headed off, Spice gets to work -- with Dmitry and Josie there for any assistance necessary. Cinnamon, however, has to head out to the infirmary to do another day's work on their financials. She's working backwards from the present, month by month, in her data entry -- it's her hope to be able to settle the books year by year as she gets all the data for each year. That way she can show Iason and Nikos some definite progress as well!

As Cinnamon heads off down the street she checks her little notebook as well for her day's errands... she wants to talk to Hilde, and Jarek, and Iason, and Marc- no, actually, she thinks Jaeger is the one she truly wishes to speak to regarding the monies for the trod. Hm, what else... oh! She has a question for Shane too, right. Cinnamon grins happily to herself, taking a bite of the cinnamon bun she swiped to carry with her as she headed for the infirmary. She keeps an alert eye out for the folks she wants to talk to, as well. After all, she's pretty sure Iason won't mind if she's just a smidge late, maybe?

Cinnamon blinks, pushing her glasses up as she realizes: it's almost like her thoughts summoned the person she wants -- because there's Hilde right now! She beams and waves as she trots over, calling, "Hilde! Hello, how are you? Do you have a moment?" Hilde is chatting just as animatedly as she always does. The person she's chatting with is Jarek, who is looking just as foreboding as he always does. He just seems to have that sort of curmudgeonly face.

Hilde grins and waves at Cinnamon. She's wearing bellbottom jeans and a halter top that looks like it's mostly made of beads. Jarek scowls at Cinnamon, but it only takes a moment to realize he's actually squinting a bit in the sun. Cinnamon brightens, "Oh! Jarek, I was hoping to talk to you too, actually!" She beams hopefully at him, "I heard you were the Council's treasurer, but didn't really like the job. So... I really love accounting! Would you allow me to take the job for you?" She hastily adds, "I'd be happy to just be your assistant instead, though, if you preferred?"

Jarek's scowl turns almost immediately into a wide grin, "You can have the job. It gives me nothing but headaches!"

Hilde laughs, "Jarek says take it, but we have to bring it up as a motion to the council."

Cinnamon blinks at that... then beams delightedly, her eyes sparkling, "Oh! Wow, thank you, Jarek!" She grins at Hilde, "That's fine! I don't mind -- I just want to feel more like I'm pulling my weight here too, you know?"

Hilde's eyes twinkle, "Oh? You mean putting Killa in his place, and also slapping down that idiot Bala, isn't pulling your weight?"

Cinnamon blinks again -- then blushes! "Oh! Oh, but that -- er, I mean, I didn't really... um... oh, dear! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to cause all kinds of trouble, you know?" She hastily -- and with embarrassment! -- changes the subject, "Ah... oh! So, ah, so is there someplace where prospective issues for the Council are listed ahead of time?"

Hilde snorts amusedly, "Not really. There's a lot of sneaking and trying to bring up things at the last minute to put other people off their game. It's basically Robert's Rules of Order for the small things. The big issues are added to the agenda and Llew keeps that as an ostensibly neutral party."

Jarek chuckles his surprisingly rumbly laugh, "Ostensibly, yes. He makes a good show of it and is very fair."

Cinnamon nods briskly, "Okay, then! Jarek, is it okay with you if I tell Llewellyn about this?"

Jarek waves his hand in a 'go on, no longer my problem' kind of gesture, "Yes. Do this. Even if we are split down the middle, I think Caradog will lean in your direction."

Cinnamon nods cheerfully, "Thank you so much!" She makes a quick note in her little journal, then grins shyly at Hilde, "I, um... actually wanted to ask you a question too...? -er, I-if you don't mind? -though... you might consider it a bit... personal?"

Hilde grins at Cinnamon's bashfulness; she thinks the dragon is rather adorable! Jarek excuses himself and stumps off. Once he's gone, Hilde smiles, "I am usually an open book. If I don't want to answer, I'll say so politely."

Cinnamon ducks her head a little as she nods... then straightens and takes a deep breath before she says, "I, um, I... I was w-wondering... it was you, wasn't it, who g-gave Marcus the gold bracelet with the Norwegian word for fidelity on it, in runes? S-so... so I was, um, w-wondering... wh-what that meant to you, please? -er, I-if that's not... not too, er... nosy of me?"

Hilde grins, "I did, yes. He's been courting me for years. Apparently our families really wanted us to be a couple at some point. Me? I don't want that. Marcus is pretty, but he's about as deep as a mud puddle and wouldn't know how to stay true to anyone but himself if he tried. I'm not sure what went wrong there. Jaeger's pretty amazing, after all." She tilts her head consideringly, adding, "I think Marcus took it as a promise when it's not. It's... ehhh, might as well say it. It's a jab at his complete inability to be true to anything."

Cinnamon blinks earnestly as she listens... then sighs gustily, her shoulders visibly relaxing, "Oh, good!" She laughs softly at herself, then grins at Hilde, "Thank you! You've reassured me... on my ability to notice things about folks!"

Hilde grins again, "You didn't think I was actually smitten with him, did you? He gives good parties and he always has good food and good wine. He lets me get away with things because he thinks he's indulging someone that could be his future wife. If you ask me, though, there are a lot better matches for me out there."

Cinnamon glances around herself to make sure no one's too close -- she doesn't want to be loudly rude about anyone, after all! Then she murmurs quietly to Hilde, "It's just... well, Jaeger is indeed pretty amazing, yes! And I... I can't help but feel that somewhere, way deep inside and hidden under all the, um... the full-of-himself-ness... there's the potential for a really decent person in Marcus! But... not right now, I think... and I think it's going to take a big shake-up in his life for that to happen! And..." she blushes slightly, glancing at where she's nervously playing with the zipper pull on her computer messenger bag, "um... and I -- I agree with you that he... he seems to think the bracelet is... well, kind of like a promissory note, you know?" She almost mumbles the next part, "-and... I... Ilikeyoutoomuchtoseehimhurtyousorry..." She's flaming red by that point, of course!

Hilde awws and hugs Cinnamon tight, "I like you, too! And don't worry -- I've let Marcus get into my panties a time or two, but he's never going to get into my life like that."

Cinnamon is even more flaming red at that admission! She hugs Hilde warmly in spite of that, however -- she was telling the truth about liking Hilde, and she's starting to realize that friends actually watch out for each other! It's a scary but lovely concept to her, and she wants to be sure she herself is a good friend, as well as having them. She takes a deep breath after the hug, grinning embarrassedly as she tries to fan her face to cool it down a bit, "So do you, er, I m-mean... have you ever tried telling him what you think the bracelet means?"

Hilde shakes her head, "Why would I do that? He needs to figure that shit out on his own. I really want him to do well, though... if for no other reason than I respect his dad a lot."

Cinnamon nods thoughtfully, "Okay. So is it, um... is it... wrong, or fruitless, or... or something else to try to do stuff like that?" She adds in explanation, "I'm trying to learn really quick how to be a good Councilor, and I figure some day I'll meet folks I'm supposed to represent who're just as obstinate or intransigent... so I want to know how to handle them smoothly, you know?"

Hilde grins encouragingly, "You're doing well so far! You've got Elias, who seems to be really fond of you. You've got Josie too, and you've got... well, all of us, really. You're going to do fine." Amusedly she adds, "And sometimes people need a metaphorical spanking!"

Cinnamon looks relieved -- then blinks and blushes again, squeaking, "Oh!" She puts both hands to her heated cheeks, "Oh, my -- I -- oh, y-you're right, b-but -- oh! Oh, gosh, don't want to be late gotta run thanks so much for the convo see you later, Hilde!" She almost rushes off, still very pink! Hilde chuckles, watching the little dragon flee in embarrassment.

Cinnamon stops by Llewellyn's office to ask him to please place the matter concerning the job of treasurer on the list of discussion points for the next council meeting, then briskly heads off to the infirmary. She'll spend the rest of the day there, happily engrossed in her work. At lunchtime she quietly checks with Thorn, though: can he and Erin communicate swiftly and discreetly with the Trod of the Elm and Athala? Thorn nods -- Erin can convey messages pretty quickly, actually. The other bird that Cinnamon saw at the Trod is Erin's twin, and they share a sort of link with each other. Cinnamon's eyes get wide, "Ooh! In that case, do you know how long it would take Jaeger or Athala to travel here?!"

Thorn hmms, "I would imagine a few days. They arrived about a day after I did for the council meeting... and I left the Trod well before them."

Cinnamon frowns thoughtfully, absently nibbling on her pencil as she thinks... then she looks up at Thorn and says quietly, "You might want to ask at least Jaeger to start getting ready to come, then. We should know at least one of the attackers for sure by tomorrow night... maybe more of them, too -- and I'm going to ask Elias to convene the Council to hear all this once we know." She considers, then adds, "Like... sooner the better, so he's feeling okay by the time the Council meets, you know?"

Thorn nods and looks upward, "Hey, pretty lady? Could I ask you to send a message to Nach? I promise there's some red currants for you." Erin will do almost anything (that won't hurt her charge) for redcurrants -- they're quite a favorite of hers! She wings off to do so. There's a link between herself and her twin, but she does need to be a little way out of town to use it.

Cinnamon smiles, patting Thorn's hand as she whispers, "Thanks, Thorny! I'm going to get back to work now, okay?"

Iason moves through most days in an aura of calm competence. Even the days that are hectic don't ruffle him much. Perhaps centuries of life do that to you. There's no need to rush through most things. Emergency issues are an exception, but he never seems flustered by it. Cinnamon is tired but pleased at the end of a good day's work on the infirmary's books! She's made visible progress for the last year's worth of financials, which she shows with a bit of pride to Iason and Nikos at the end of the day. Both men seem happy with her work, which pleases her also. She takes a moment to close everything down and put away all the books -- and then she's looking forward to her language lessons!

By the time Cinnamon is finished, Iason is in his office and going over notes of the day's cases. He's starting to train Thorn in how to do those as well. Cinnamon peeks in the door, rapping lightly on the doorjamb, "H-hello? Er... w-would you like to do the language lesson now, or are you too tired, sir?"

Iason raises his head with a smile, "I don't require much sleep, Cinnamon. Please come in."

Cinnamon smiles shyly, sliding in as she pulls out her computer again, after having shown off the day's work to Nikos and Iason earlier, "Okay! I, um, took your advice and got an on-line language lesson program too? -and, uh, and I've been working on it too, but... I'm a little confused? -'cause I think it's almost over, but... well, we don't seem to have gotten to the hard parts yet?"

Iason smiles and rumbles, "Let's see where you're at with it. Some of them work in levels. Perhaps you're simply at the end of the first level."

Cinnamon nods and sets up the little laptop, then points out where she is in the lesson plan. Shifting to Italian, she adds, "This is the part we're at, sir. It suggested always speaking in the actual language while doing the lessons, so... I am! So... have I missed a part of the lessons or something?"

Iason leans over Cinnamon's shoulder without actually looming... or perhaps Cinnamon is finally becoming more comfortable with the centaur stallion? His brows go up as he sees where the young dragon is in her lessons, and he shifts to Italian as well, "Are you certain you've never spoken this language? Because you are quite far in it..."

Cinnamon blinks startledly at Iason, "What? No, I didn't even take a foreign language in high school! My parents said it was a waste of time... though..." she grins a little shyly at the screen, "I kind of wanted to... just to try something different, you know?" She sighs quietly, remembering getting stuck with more gym classes instead. That'd been a horror. Then she firmly reminds herself: she doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to now -- her parents have no hold over her any more!

Iason replies dryly, still in Italian, "I think young Shane is correct about your parents. You are quite talented, my dear. It would usually take months to learn it this well. You aren't quite completely fluent, but you are much, much further than a week should have you be."

Cinnamon beams at that, pushing her glasses up, "Really? Oh, thank you! That is wonderful news -- I really want to be able to communicate clearly with the people who are depending upon me to represent them!" Perhaps wisely, she sort of ignores the comment about her parents... though she does wonder just who all Shane is talking to about them! Then again, it's Shane... he'll be smart about who he talks to. Cinnamon happily adds, "Maybe I will even be able to speak Greek to the little god that runs the supernatural reserve there, when we have a Council meeting in that locale!"

Iason chuckles warmly and pats Cinnamon softly on the shoulder, "That would go a long way toward making them feel as if you really are taking them seriously." Inwardly, he's thinking she takes very much after her grandfather if she's picking the language up this quickly!

Cinnamon curiously adds, "Does Shane speak any foreign tongues too? Er, aside from... whatever language his father's trod speaks?" Privately she wonders if it might be fun to practice some of the languages she needs to learn... with Shane? She beams at the praise, turning pink with pleasure, "Thank you!" Then she adds more seriously, "I really want to do a good job, after all. I know they all probably miss Liam terribly, and I know I can't replace him... but hopefully I at least won't be a disappointment, you know?"

Iason chuckles, "I don't know his languages, no -- Shane plays a surprising amount of things close to the chest. I do know he speaks Gaelic fairly well and English is his native tongue. I don't know what else he may have picked up." There's another gentle pat on her shoulder, "You are disappointing no one but the people who are hoping you will fail." That causes Cinnamon to blush with pleasure! She happily chatters in Italian for the rest of the language lesson with Iason, then heads on back to her little house.

Once Cinnamon is done with Iason and returns to her house, she finds Shane already there, while Josie is making something to eat in anticipation of her friend returning home. Plans are made to meet at the Boston end of Coblyn near dinnertime the next day. However, Spice and Josie are being hesitantly persuaded to stay here for the jaunt to the restaurant. Shane and Dmitry are both insisting Spice is too 'squishy' to be there, in case things turn bad. Josie is being rather insistent, too -- she wants to keep the hacker safe! Plus it means time alone with Spice, though she doesn't say that part out loud, of course. Cinnamon quietly encourages Spice, along with Josie, to feel free to stay and work here tomorrow while the others are at the restaurant -- after all, they'll all come back here to figure things out once they're done, right? Plus Cinnamon is more than happy to bring some take-home food for the hacker and the werewolf, if they'd like!

Spice is pleased with her progress! She grins, "Didn't get all the way into the bank, but I got into the top level. Whoever this is didn't feel like they needed to hide much. I think they've outsmarted themselves."

Cinnamon is thrilled to hear of Spice's progress, "Oh, awesomesauce! Spice, you're genius!" She gives the other girl an impulsive hug -- then adds more seriously, "This is sounding more and more like Moustapha... but is it just me, or does it not sound as much like Jalil? Or..." she frowns thoughtfully, absently nibbling on her lower lip before she adds, "I don't know... is fire ever... smug?"

Shane shakes his head, "No, it doesn't sound like Jalil. I have never seen him smug. He knows his own power so he's confident, but not smug."

Cinnamon nods, looking faintly relieved... and then adds quietly, "Oh, also? I asked Thorn to let Jaeger know he should start getting ready to come here. We're going to know for sure tomorrow if it's Moustapha or not, and I'm willing at this point to just about bet money it is, what with all the data we've accumulated... and once we know, I'm going to ask Elias to ask Caradog for a special Council meeting about this. So... I figured this way Jaeger will have time to recover from the trip, you know?" There's general agreement that this was a good idea, and then people disperse for the night.

The next day, early in the morning, Cinnamon sits down next to Spice with a cup of coffee for the hacker as well as one for herself, as she asks Spice to check a few things for her! The little dragon had been brainstorming last night before sleep, and woke up with some thoughts she wishes to bounce off Spice, to see if they make sense. When Spice nods sleepily at her over the coffee mug, Cinnamon takes a deep breath and begins, "Okay! So, first: it occurs to me that Thorn is right and if any of us are noticed at the restaurant -- and then a day or three later there's an announcement that the perps for the attack on the Trod of the Elm have been discovered... then they're going to be really, really suspicious! So... I was thinking that the right folks to send to the restaurant are actually only Shane and Dmitry, and Thorn for in case anything goes wrong."

Cinnamon starts ticking points off on her fingers, "The three of them can be sneaky, and Dmitry's got the 'don't see me' pendant, and Thorn's as nondescript-looking as me and unlike me isn't a known councilor, and Erin can help them all keep an eye out. Plus if I go, Moustapha knows me, and I'm not sneaky..." she blushes faintly, "-in fact, I'm actually a bit, um... well, I trip a lot sometimes. Plus you're not known, Spice... but you are 'squishy' -- and if you go, Josie will want to go too, and she's quite distinctive -- so!" She takes a deep breath and looks at Spice, "Only Shane, Dmitry, and Thorn go to the restaurant... and they hide a lot and wait to see who (if anyone) comes to visit with Moustapha... then follow that person back to Coblyn and see who they are without the glamour! Make sense?"

Spice blinks and nods slowly; heartened, Cinnamon continues, "Okay! And here's what I'm guessing they'll find. First, if Moustapha's meeting someone's minion? That's a sign that the two councilors are working together on this, and are confident enough that they're willing to send 'mere' minions to do the negotiations for them... which honestly says to me that they know they won't get caught -- most likely because they're not the only councilors in on this horrible thing, and they're all covering for each other!" Cinnamon frowns consideringly, then adds, "Also, if it's two or more councilors... why would they even bother to meet off of Coblyn? They all have mansions and stuff!"

"But if it's just Moustapha meeting one of the councilors? Then that to me says that we're lucky, and the conspiracy is likely just between the two of them, and they're meeting off Coblyn to ensure Jalil doesn't find out. After all, if it was Jalil sending a minion, then the other councilor would have to send a minion too -- or make it look like he didn't think he ranked equally with Jalil! Further, I could see the councilor and the minion meeting accidentally the first time at the restaurant, and over time sharing dinner and stories and homesickness and eventually becoming friends... and then hatching this terrible plan together, as a means to right the wrongs so many of the reveal faction seem to think humans are perpetrating against them."

Cinnamon takes a deep breath and grins a bit anxiously at Spice -- and Josie too, since the werewolf has come over to curl up against the human. "So! What do you think? Does that all make sense?" Josie and Spice both agree that it would be smart to send the three men. With Dmitry's don't-see-me, and Thorn's sneakiness, the three men should be safe... especially if Shane himself can be inconspicuous.

The evening of that day, when the men plan to go to the restaurant, Shane and Dmitry meet Thorn at the entrance to Coblyn Street. Even though Thorn knows the former mercenary is there, the medic's eyes keep slipping off Dmitry -- and Shane... barely looks like Shane. Instead of his normal kilt and moccasins he's wearing jeans, a black t-shirt, and a red flannel with a pair of red Chucks. His -- quite distinctive -- long black hair is almost completely hidden under a beanie with a Thrasher logo on the front. He's also standing with an unaccustomed sort of relaxed slump. He's also got a backpack slung over one shoulder. In short, he looks like a stoner skater. The amber eyes aren't disguised except by the way his eyes are partially lidded in a way that lends even more credence to the stoner image. Thorn isn't too surprised at the way he fails to really focus on Dmitry -- he knows about the magic, of course. But he stares at the other man for a long moment before asking, "...Shane?"

The question makes the half-beansidhe grin, making his face more recognizable, "Yup. That's me." He looks Thorn over and says, "I've been told you're good at inconspicuous. How good are you in a fight?"

"Probably less than good," Thorn confesses. "I barely passed the basic combat qualifiers."

Dmitry nods, "Having you be not very noticeable will give us a third set of eyes. I can point out the smiling man if he is there."

Shane nods as well, unslinging and unzipping his backpack. He hands Thorn something which the medic likely recognizes -- a collapsible ASP baton. Shane says, "This is the 24 inch version. Don't hit anyone with it if you can help it, but it does a fucking fantastic job of tripping someone." He speaks as if this is something he knows by experience, then adds, "The thing collapses down to less than 8 inches... or I can carry it until we're closer."

Thorn nods, tucking the ASP away in his jacket, "I can carry it. Erin will give us a fourth set of eyes as well." He lets out a breath, "Okay, let's do this."

Shane leads the way, stepping out onto the normal, human-use street. Only then does he pull out what looks like a several-years-old smart phone and summon that most ubiquitous of things: a Lyft. He explains that it's harder to track than a cab, because the Lyft cars all just look like everyday cars. The vehicle that arrives is an SUV; Shane takes the passenger seat and lets the other two take the back. Once inside, not only does his face go back to that half-sleepy almost-stoned look, his voice slows down, and he starts to sound like the person he's disguised as.

Erin ghosts along and settles on the car's roof to mark it in her mind, lifting off when it starts moving. Thorn tries to not look like he's surprised at Shane's sudden change in disposition; instead he quietly marvels at Shane's skill, while looking out the window like a typical Lyft passenger. He smiles a little when he hears the little tap of Erin's feet on the roof, and hopes the vehicle doesn't move too fast for the spectral magpie. Then he berates himself: Erin would hear nothing of the sort, should he ever mention it to her. He starts to feel a little nervous, then squelches it. It's highly unlikely something will go wrong, let alone that they get into a fight. But it would make a mess of things, so make sure nothing goes wrong!

Shane keeps right on chatting with the driver about music, traffic, thorny political issues of the day, and the expansion of legal marijuana across the country. Dmitry murmurs quietly, "I think he is trying to be inconspicuously conspicuous." Thorn nods silently to Dmitry, his lips quirking a little in a smile.

The drive is perhaps fifteen minutes; Shane has the driver let them out three blocks or so away. Dmitry actually has to move to step against a wall because people keep accidentally bumping into him. The men are there no more than a few minutes before Erin catches up with them. She swoops low to let Thorn know she's there and then settles on a nearby street sign. Thorn does his best to be forgettable, which is not that hard. Even just staying a little apart from Shane means the "inconspicuously conspicuous" Shane draws most of what little attention is directed their way. Thorn is grateful for it. Even though he (Thorn) looks rather... well, nebbishy, and not likely the kind of person who would be in the company of a stoner, Shane still provides excellent distraction. Thorn also kind of hopes a bit of Dmitry's 'don't-see-me' magic rubs off on him, though he knows his best chance is to use what he's practiced in 'how not to be seen'... and the Monty Python skit doesn't count.

As they stand there, Shane says quietly, "Okay, the plan is for me and Dmitry to go in and get a table... even order some food so we have an excuse to sit and wait. If Moustapha shows his face, Dmitry can identify him -- and then we'll see who his co-conspirator is." He nods toward Erin, "You and your pretty lady should hope for the best and prepare for the worst." As he's talking, he's leading the three of them down to the restaurant.

Thorn nods, "Makes sense. Meanwhile I try to be as inconspicuous as possible, while Erin and I keep an eye out for any trouble. Want us on the other side of the room, or out here?" There are actually benches along the street on which people seem to be relaxing. The restaurant itself is bustling, and the street is quite busy. Apparently Wednesday is a popular night to be out in this neighborhood.

Shane considers, "Other side of the room. Blend in. Get a drink. Some food." His true grin quirks for a moment, "After all, Dmitry's old employers will be paying." Then he lets his face fall back into those lazy, hazy lines.

There's a bit of a wait for a table, but the three men are already in place at their tables for ten or so minutes before a familiar face arrives. The bright smile in the very dark face is recognizable to anyone that's even glimpsed Moustapha. Shane's eyes cut toward Dmitry, who nods with a grim look on his face, "That is smiling man, yes." Knowing Thorn's eyes are probably sliding off Dmitry, Shane gives Thorn a signal to let him know: the mischief spirit is indeed the 'smiling man.'

Thorn nods imperceptibly when he catches Shane's glance, feeling a gnawing tension in his gut. Now they know who the 'smiling man' truly is, they need to find out who he meets with here. More importantly... all the pieces are falling into place. They're on the cusp of solving this particular mystery, but it's the most dangerous moment of unraveling the conspiracy. The thing that has been worrying Thorn all along comes back to whisper in his ear: if push comes to shove, does he stay to try to help Shane and Dmitry? Or run back to Coblyn and hope they can take care of themselves?

Moustapha chats and laughs with the server, ordering more food than one person could eat. Why becomes (predictably, with the money trails they followed) quite clear when someone enters the restaurant and sits in the other seat. Like some of the folks on Coblyn, this person passes fairly well as human -- if a stunningly gorgeous human. The young woman is pale and freckled over most of her face, with thick red hair done in a single neat braid down her back. She sits and chats with Moustapha for a moment, and Thorn is close enough to hear her say, "Oh! You left this when you were over last!" The accent is unmistakably Irish, as she hands Moustapha a hardback book.

Between the pages of the book and protruding slightly above the cover is an envelope. From the thickness it certainly holds more than a sheet or two of paper. Moustapha takes it and laughs, replying, "Ah. I wondered where it had gone." The book disappears into the messenger bag the mischief spirit brought in with him. The ensuing conversation seems innocuous, but there are a few things that sound, to Thorn's militarily-trained ear, to be a discussion of tactics. One particular comment about bridges being burnt makes Moustapha laugh, "Bridges, yes -- and trees and other such things. They got on like a house afire before that, though." There is really no mistaking it for anything other than a conversation about the attack on the Trod.

The tables between Moustapha and the other two men have filled up, making it hard for Shane and Dmitry to hear the conversation, but Thorn has a better seat for listening. As he eavesdrops, Thorn considers: if the woman is sidhe, then she's possibly from one of the Irish trods... and that would explain Iason's prophecy that they would find the responsible party in Ireland. But what -- no, there'll be time for analysis later. The important thing is to get the raw intelligence back to Coblyn... and to find out if Moustapha's dinner guest is indeed living on Coblyn Street.

The rest of the conversation goes much in that vein. Both people are quite good at wordplay and avoiding outright talking about mass murder. Eventually Moustapha makes his farewells and heads out, leaving the woman to finish up her dinner. As she's mopping up her plate, Shane pays for both his table and Thorn's, then tips his head to let the mage know he's going to be outside. His face is set into quite forbidding lines. Thorn relaxes -- though only a very little -- after Moustapha's departure. There's no guarantee, after all, that the sidhe is not more capable of tradecraft than Moustapha. Still, they've gotten this far -- now they just have to follow the sidhe woman back to Coblyn. Thorn also wryly thinks that if Shane is feeling grim now, he'll be even less happy when he hears about the conversation the two were having, that he hadn't been able to hear from that distance.

The woman stands and slings her bag over her shoulder. As she moves through the room to the door, she seems to brush against more people than would be ordinarily normal. Thorn's brow furrows slightly. What an odd thing to notice... and what an odder thing to do. There must be some kind of magic she's doing, but what? Shane is visible through the glass windows of the restaurant, still in stoner slouch and with his head tipped down so his eyes aren't easily visible -- at least until the woman has passed. That's when Thorn can see the tension come into Shane's shoulders. "Pretty Lady," the medic murmurs, "it's time for us to do our thing. Let's keep eyes on her -- you from above whenever you can. Okay?" Shane is not at all happy, Thorn realizes. The faux stoner must have heard more of the conversation than the distance and crowd would have suggested he had.

When Thorn comes out of the restaurant, Shane turns to look at him, speaking quietly, "I know her. She's definitely not staying on Coblyn. Think you can follow her for a few blocks?" The half-beansidhe has already pulled his slouched stoner look back on after the moment of tension. He points with his chin in the direction the redhead went.

Thorn nods. "Who is she?" he asks before heading off to follow her. This is getting increasingly worrying. Shane knows who she is, but they hadn't planned on their quarry not staying on Coblyn Street. Shane is also tense and unhappy... and that makes Thorn tense and unhappy.

Shane's answer about who she is explains his tension, "Her name's Niamh. Or at least that's what she goes by -- just as I'm Shane and you're Thorn. She's a member of the Trod of the Holly." Thorn blinks -- then nods and does his best to follow her.

A block or so down, the woman has stopped to apparently window shop. The only issue is that she's a little too far back from the window and people are having to brush past her due to the heavy foot traffic in the area. She's chuckling and excusing herself, but she isn't moving. After five or ten minutes she finally starts down the road again, hair and hips swinging, seeming cheerful and energetic.

Thorn would never have guessed a conspirator for cold-blooded mass murder would be so... perky! She's also deliberately brushing against people; she's not just doing it accidentally. It's clear she's purposefully getting in peoples' way. Is she... is she feeding on people somehow? Is that what's giving her so much energy? That's an unsettling thought, but it seems to bear out under the evidence given. Shane might know more about just what Niamh is doing -- well, aside from 'conspiracy to murder'... and being a member of the Trod of the Holly... the rival to the Trod of the Rowan -- Shane's trod -- and the trod with the maniac in charge, if Thorn remembers right... the one that very much wants to kill a lot of people.

The woman doesn't hail a cab and hasn't called a ride share. She also doesn't seem to have a car of her own. In fact, she walks about two miles down the road before turning into the entrance to an old, four-story apartment building. Once Thorn follows her that far he can see the main door is a security door, and the apartments are all listed with buzzers. There's not much way for him to follow her further. Thorn grimaces as he sees the building, but doesn't approach it. It'd be less than useless to try to guess which apartment she lives in, and would just serve to expose them. Worse comes to worse, they can come by again later and take down the names on the mailboxes or the buzzers, if there are any.

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Last modified: 2019-Jun-12 19:53:32

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