No Easy Answers

His various workouts and exercises done for the day, the gray and cloudy day finds Seldan seeking the city library. Not an idle reader, he - he is here with a purpose, a weathered leather satchel slung over one shoulder. He has eschewed armor and the silver headband, as he normally does in the city, but his longsword is as always at his hip, and has added the robe from the other evening beneath the surcoat. The effect is as warm as it is flowing and comfortable. He stands at the library's main desk, engaged in a polite discussion with the city librarian.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I am seeking information within the city records, of a man named Dylan Hunt. Whether such a man lives within the city, and where he might be found, or if he was once here and might have departed."

"Not just anyone accesses the city records, young man. For what purpose?"

"The man I named may be associated to the person responsible for creating the plague that afflicts the city. If I can find him, he might have access to that wizard's notes."

Malik walks in behind Seldan, dressed in his usual gear, the cloak of his hood pulled up over his head, moving up behind his companion as he talks to the librarian. Turning his head to where only Seldan can see his face, there's a subtle roll of his eyes as the librarian mentions the city records being restricted, but for the most part he just lets Seldan do the talking. The other man seems better at it.

Following in behind Malik is Acedia, practically stepping on his coattails. She remains silent but smiles up at the two men. Rubbing at one ear, she's dressed in her homespun clothes and a long (for her) cloak. The Gobbo lays in wait.

It takes Seldan a few minutes and some sweet talking to persuade the librarian to show him up to where the city records are kept, but mention of the plague certainly seems to help. Finally, the woman gets up and leads the group to the section in question. "Anything you remove, leave it on the table. It will be re-filed for you." Seldan nods his thanks, and sets that leather satchel on the table with a sigh of relief. He doesn't acknowledge the others yet, beyond a glance and a nod.

Malik watches Seldan, an eyebrow raising as the man actually starts to work his charm. There's a bit of a surprised look there, to be sure, but he gives Acedia a grin, thumbing over to the man as he raises an eyebrow at her like 'have you ever seen him do that before'? Though as it seems to work, he follows along, waiting for the librarian to shut the door before laughing a bit. "Look at you, charmer," he teases. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Reaching over for one of the volumes, he pulls it off the shelf, blowing dust off of the cover in a heavy cloud. "In high demand, I see." Flipping the book open, he scans through a few pages. "Sanitation records. Of course. Sensitive materials that they have locked away."

Acedia is happy to simply follow along, her curiosity piqued. She slips into a chair, and tugs at the satchel. "So what're we looking for?", she wonders. "I mean... I can help with the lower shelves." The Gobber stands then, and moves to Malik's side, hugging at him a moment before wrinkling her nose at the dust. "You'd think they'd clean them."

Surprised, Seldan looks over at Malik with a grin. "I am full of surprises, am I not? In truth, it is not usually so very difficult if one is polite." As he talks, he is looking through the shelves himself, although sanitation records don't seem to be of interest to him. "We seek information about a man named Dylan Hunt," he explains to Acedia. "Hun'rar's information says that he might be the son of the wizard Zeheir, who created this horrendous plague, and that he might still be living. Were it not for the fact that the wizard is known to travel time as well as space, I might have thought it impossible, but I would leave no stone unturned."

"Well uh, erm, if he is a time traveller then it would not be a surprise or impossible for him to be alive." Acedia's nose wrinkles and she snorts. "Though why is he spreading the plague? Why did he make it in the first place? That seems pretty evil."

Malik closes the book, setting it on the shelf. "So all we need to do is find a record of a wizard named Zeheir born a thousand years ago in a place that maybe isn't even here, and then look for his son that could have been born any time between then and now." He nods, crossing his arms as he looks at the rows of shelves. "No problem at all," he mutters, looking at what must be several thousand books. "Where do we start? The present, or the past?"

"Well uh, erm, if he is a time traveller then it would not be a surprise or impossible for him to be alive." Acedia's nose wrinkles and she snorts. "Though why is he spreading the plague? Why did he make it in the first place? That seems pretty evil."

The Gobbo looks to Malik and nods, "Yeah, it is a pretty wide net to cast. I would have thought that the Arcanists would probably have information on that. Perhaps there are some of their records here? Maybe there are books on golemancy or famous arcanists? Or perhaps we could look for plagues that were especially virulient? I mean, Zeheir must have become famous for a time since he was looking for a cure too, since his wife fell ill to it."

"I know not if Alexandria's records go back that far, Acedia, nor do I know if Zeheir was ever in Alexandria." Seldan is a bit further down the shelves, and pushes a lock of hair from his eyes as he ponders the volumes in front of him and just above his eye level. "I would learn if this Dylan Hunt is here now, and if not, was he ever here? If he was, then where did he go?" He looks back at the other two. "A large undertaking, to be sure, and perhaps the Arcanists will have records as well, yes. I know not if this man ever studied the arcane arts, or had any ties to Zeheir. But - it is a place to begin." Resolutely, he looks at the stack again.

"Zeheir fell to evil in his search for a cure, I think. He made of himself a lich, an evil and unnatural process in itself, and in so doing created a thing of twisted and unholy magic that creates nothing but suffering. I know not if this Mistress had a hand in its creation, or has simply thieved this thing and turned it to her own purposes."

Malik runs a hand along the books, thinking out loud. "Well, we know that he wouldn't be a child. He would at least be grown, if not an old man by now. So we can rule out anything for the past two decades, I think." He continues walking, running a hand along the books until he gets to another section, this one covered with a finger layer of dust. He stops, but nods to Acedia's wonderings. "The Arcanists probably have a record. Children of powerful willworkers are often recorded, so that their bloodlines can be watched." Spoken like someone with experience in the matter.

Pulling it one of the books, he begins to thumb through it, looking for names. As Seldan talks about Zeheir's transformation, however, he looks up at the man, face impassive. "Don't be so quick to judge him without knowing his story," Malik says, quietly. "We all are capable of doing desperate things for the ones we love, if it seems like losing them is all but foregone."

The Gobbo makes a face and lets out a huff of breath. "This seems like an impossible task!", she says grouchily. "But. Well, in for a penny..." She runs a hand through her mop of hair. "He was trying to cure his wife. Is there anyone you would do anything for? It's very easy to fall from the path of righteousness."

Acedia rubs at her cheek. "How do you know he became a lich? If his tower moves through time and space, well... you can be alive AND dead at the same time. Is it on record that he changed himself into a lich?"

"So it is," Seldan says to Acedia, although this time without taking his eyes from the volumes before him. It is Malik's comment that draws his attention away from them. "No matter his story, Malik, it cannot be denied that his deeds have brought a great deal of suffering, and that this thing he has created must be stopped, along with the one who would exploit it. The path to evil is well-packed with the footsteps of good intentions."

He turns back to the shelves, and selects a book, thumbing through it. "Yes. Hun'rar's research turned up a record of the lich's defeat, along with the mention of this Dylan Hunt. A fortuitous find."

Malik nods to Acedia's question first. "So we're to believe," he tells the woman. "I don't know where Hun'rar got his information, or if it's reliable. But he seems to believe it is, and I had already been working on a similar theory. I'm still not sure that I'm incorrect. I think there are important details that we're still missing."

Malik seems to finish his search through the first book, though, shutting it and setting it back on the shelf as he goes to the next volume. Seldan's comment, though, draws a second of silence from him, before he responds. "The path to evil is well-packed with the footsteps of good intentions," he agrees. "And the path of righteousness and purity no less littered with corpses."

Acedia nods slowly. "Ah, alright. I am glad one is not jumping to conclusions. Well, uh, if the lich was beaten... what records was Hun'rar reading through. That sounds like a good place to start, you know?" She starts going through the lower shelves, mostly blowing dust and reading... not impressed with the titles. "Ewh... annual sewage reports. Blech!"

The Gobbo chuckles. "The path to anything worthwhile is probably littered with many corpses, usually hidden in closets."

Seldan continues his thumbing through the book, then replaces it in its current location and selects another one. He looks up and levels his gaze at Malik at his comment. "I would see none slain. There have been too many deaths already, but - there are worse fates than the Grey Lady's halls, Malik. You know that full well, and better than most."

Distracted now, he turns to Acedia. "A good idea. I had not asked where Hun'rar had found such a thing, but ... perhaps evidence of travel would be in passenger manifests?"

Malik just sighs, but gives the sorceror an easy nod, offering a smile in return. "I suppose you're right," he tells the man, looking through the book. Though he does get a bit curious at Seldan's comment, considering it. "It seems plausible, if he came by way of ship," he muses. "Though I think that we would be looking in an even larger section. Alexandria is a port city, after all. There have to be hundreds that come and go every day, if not thousands." He glances through the book he's currently holding, putting that one back as well. Looking to Acedia, he asks, "I don't suppose you have any special tricks that help you locate knowledge you're seeking? This would be a fine time for a spell, if I knew of one that would work for the task."

"You're probably going to see at least three slain, if not more. The father, the son and motherly ghost. Perhaps the mistress is Zeheir's wife? What if he succeeded, but found the only means to do so was to accept undeath?" The Gobbo shoves her book find back into the shelf, and walks to where Malik stands. And shoves her hand into one of his pockets. Where she has seen him pull the dragon fruits from, before. "Wait, passenger manifests? Wouldn't that be up at the aerodrome, where the airships go? Or the port, where the regular ships go? Or perhaps even by shipping company?"

Acedia squeaks as Malik speaks to her, her hand stuck fast in his pocket. "Uhm, no, most of my spells are performance related. Plus a bit of healing."

"Or both, perhaps." Seldan looks up from this second book that he has been thumbing through, allowing the discussion between him and Malik to drop. "It is possible that son has done naught wrong, Acedia. My best hope is to secure his assistance, or at the very least, learn what he knows." He thumbs through a few more pages, then puts the book back in its place, skips down to the next shelf, and pulls a third." He blinks at the notion of this mistress being Zeheir's wife. "A good thought. That is possible. Although, the wizard himself is long dead, so do we encounter him, he is more likely destroyed than slain."

Malik looks down at the hand in his pocket, raising an eyebrow. Rather than say anything about it, though, he simply pulls his satchel off of his shoulder, causing the flap to fall open, which reveals several ripe peaches, probably picked up at the market today. "Looking for these?" he asks her with a grin, raising an eyebrow as he shifts enough to allow her to free her hand. Looking up to Seldan, he says, "I had a similar thought, when I was considering the source of the plague. I'm not so sure that he was destroyed, however," he tells Seldan. "Though I have no proof of it. I think -- that maybe his state was not intentional. And that we haven't seen the last of him."

"Even if he is dead, he could still be out there, running the show. Remember, if you can do time travel, you can be alive and dead at the same time." She has the decency to look embarrassed, and quickly frees her hand. Acedia eyes the peaches and takes one, munching on it hungrily. She nods in response to Malik's suggestion. "Aye, there are possibly many ways he could still be active, despite having died already."

Seldan thinks about that, and nods. "You are both right. It is possible - but perhaps this Dylan Hunt is the key to learning more." As he talks, he is still hunting through volumes of Guard reports. It is a painstaking process, but one he does not seem to be inclined to hurry.

The three are upstairs among the city records, talking as they search through a variety of things.

The Gobbo squeezes Malik in a wee hug. "Thank you~!", she saw sweetly to the man. "I'll take this outside, so they can't get mad at me for eating in here." Acedia turns and runs off.

Malik is upstairs with the others, considering what they're saying. "That -- actually is a good point," he notes. "We already know that he can essentially set up copies of his consciousness in different times. There's no guarantee that the lich they destroyed in one time was the lich in his final form. Or," he notes, "that it was even Zehier to begin with. We really should verify that before putting too much faith in it." He starts scanning through the pages again. "You would think a name like 'Dylan Hunt' would be common. But so far I haven't found a single instance of it."

Garakos makes his way upstairs to the city records, where the task set before him must be completed. He is set and determined. The hard soles of his boots tap lightly on the hard floors. Passing a goblin heading the other way, he offers a bow of his head in passing, the continues on. Entering the records room, he pauses to take in the scene.

"Nor I, but there is much to search through. This could take some time." Seldan's Myrrish-tinted voice floats out from deeper among the shelves in the records room. "I would not presume to speculate, but you are right, we should not assume." The snap of a book closing, the sound of it being placed on a shelf, and the man himself emerges from the stack, and starts. "Acedia-?" He pauses at the newcomer, then nods politely.

Malik nods. "There is." He sighs, looking through the books. "What we really need," he says, "is an expert in this field. Surely there's someone in this town that's enough of a busybody to know a name like that. They could at least point us to the right -years- to look in." But he, too, pauses as the newcomer appears, eyebrows raising a bit. Glancing to Seldan, he says, "If the scary librarian comes back and wants to know why he's here, I'm telling her that you brought him. She seems to like you."

Garakos shakes his head gravely to Seldan. "Good evening," he says simply. "I am not who you seek, though. If you are asking after the goblin, I passed her on my way up." Malik gets a puzzled look, and he says, "I am Garakos, of the Temple of Navos. I'm not for sale, but thank you for offering." He looks around at the shelves and sighs, then asks, "So what brings you fellows here?"

Seldan laughs quietly at Malik's demurral, but it's a tense laugh, one that relaxes a little at the identification of the individual. "We seek information on a man by the name of Dylan Hunt, whether he resides or once resided in this city, and if so, where he might have gone. Is that name perhaps known to you at all?"

Malik's eyebrows go up in a bit of surprise, but the smile on his face grows a bit. "Well, then I suppose it's a fortunate day for both of us," he tells the man. "I've never had to pay for anyone in my life. And I've no intention of starting now." Though at the remaining question, he just kind of nods sidelong. "That."

GAME: Garakos rolls knowledge/local: (19)+8: 27

Garakos hrms at the mention of the name, and he says, "Well. By themselves, the names are not uncommon. Dylan is one of those pretentious names that never quite live up to expectations. But drama is filled with Dylans. In fact, it's more common in drama than in life. Hunt is a quite common name, derived from Hunter, which of course derives from when names were professions, which is mostly a Myrrish thing. But the two together, while it rings a bell, I can't quite recall. Tip of my tongue, I'm afraid, but I can look it up for you if you like. Or, rather, help you refine your search?"

For some inexplicable reason, Seldan's fair skin turns bright pink at Malik's comment of not having to buy anyone, and his eyes lower. It takes him a moment to recover his composure, and when he does, he pushes a lock of ginger-blonde hair from his eyes. "Supposedly, he is the son of a wizard named Zeheir, the wizard who created the plague under which Alexandria now suffers. So far, Zeheir is believed to not be among the living, although whether that be within the halls of the Grey Lady or as an abomination, none can say. Your aid in searching for information on this man would be most appreciated."

Malik looks to Seldan's blush, shaking his head with a laugh. But it's to Garakos that he seems to be focused. "Thus, why we're lookign through records. You'd think that it would be common, but so far, we haven't found a single instance of the name. Not that we're entirely sure where to begin," he notes. "The man could have been born any time in the last ten centuries. It might take us about that long to figure out which we're even looking for."

Garakos hrms thoughtfully. "Son of a wizard. Son of a wizard. I think I may have read the name once in a journal, but I can't place it, I'm sorry." He looks guilty at that. "I would help with ths research if I can. It would be much more useful than the task that was set before me, and would serve them right." s far as finding Zeheir, he says, "Do you know when the father lived? Even approximately? Alexandria has changed hands several times in history, including recently. But a True Ressurection doesn't require a body, and if it fails, you will know why. Of course that knowledge comes at another cost..."

"Approximately a thousand years ago." Seldan manages to pull himself together, and takes a seat at the table not far from the door, in the room where they stand. A worn leather satchel sits next to the chair he takes. "More tricky is that the father was a powerful enough wizard to travel time and space alike, so any dates are likely to be ..." He pauses, as if searching for a word. "In truth, we would need a great deal of assistance, but this man might be able to help us locate Zeheir's research. If he can do that, that research might hold the key to stopping the plague."

He stops suddenly. "But, it is unfair of me to take you from your task. What did you search for?"

"If you're here to look at the sanitation records, I recommend that you wrap a cloth over your face. I don't think that they've been touched since before my grandfather was born, from the looks of the earliest ones." He points to the -one- clean book on a shelf, that isn't covered with dust. Probably the one he picked up earlier. Even the titles are obscured, the spines the uniform gray-white of grime.

Garakos ohs at a thousand years ago. "That is past the ability of magic that mortals may do, to ressurect someone dead that long. Past the magic granted to them by the gods, in any event. But if he travelled time, he may have sired his son anywhen." He looks embarassed about what he's been sent here for, but admits, "Two of my superiors have a wager on how many times Sandy has been arrested, and so I am here to find an answer."

Seldan blinks in surprise at the nature of the mul's quest to the city records. "The proprietress of the Prestigious Moon? She does have her own cell at the watchtower -" Connections are being made behind the ice-blue eyes. "Are you certain they did not simply wish you out of the temple for a few hours?"

Malik seems intrigued by that idea, eyes lighting up a bit. "Would court records be kept here?" he wonders out loud, looking at the spines of the books. He's heard the name of this mysterious proprietess, but still has not had the dubious pleasure of meeting her. "I wonder if those would be kept someplace more secure. That just makes them a little harder to get to."

Garakos shrugs about not just wanting him gone. "That ... may be a possibility," he admits. "As to whether the records you seek are city records or something else, you may have to go to each of the older noble houses and see what records they maintain."

The idea of going to the older noble houses to search their records leaves Seldan frowning. "An extensive search indeed, and I know not if they will even cooperate. Dealing with noble houses - can be a delicate business. Still, a good notion, and if none other bear fruit, perhaps it is well to seek them out. I had also thought to see if he had traveled, perhaps as a passenger on a ship or airship."

"Not to mention that most of the noble houses have probably also scoured their records and removed or hidden anything incriminating. Like ties to an evil wizard." Malik take a chair next to Seldan, setting his own bag down. "If you're going to get the actual truth, you aren't going to find it by just trusting whatever they're willing to hand you. Too many good names and fortunes are riding on keeping the dirty secrets a secret."

Garakos suggests, "The sirship companies do not generally keep records quite as far back as you might need, but families do tend to keep records of famous family members, which is why I suggested the Houses. A matter of financial record keeping for the ships which after a few years no longer has relevance, but a matter of family pride grows with age." He nods about the keeping secrets a secret. But he suggests, "If you tell them it's a matter of pride, then they may search their own records to prove themselves."

"Or if told that the answer to the plague may lie in this information ...." Seldan trails off, glancing over at Malik. "Surely they would not place their secrets above a cure ... but it is as you say," he nods to Garakos. "The more hands to help, the better, and if they will search their own records, perhaps that is better."

Malik looks to Seldan, that smile lessening a bit. There's an answer in his eyes, but whatever it is, he doesn't voice it. Not this time. It's clear enough that he rejects the premise of that statement, however. Returning his attention back to Garakos, he agrees. "That's possible. Though it relies on the teller being delicate, and the searcher being ignorant. Two things that you never want to gamble on in the same wager."

Garakos is ignorant in the ways of wagering, but he does admit, "It relies on good fortune more than I'd like. But we can continue to search here as well. Do you know other names he may use?"

"That is the only name that we have." Seldan frowns at Malik, but the meaning is clear enough. "It is also as possible that the door would be slammed in our faces. I think we are best off seeking them only as a last resort, and turning to the records first. Tell me, though, Garakos, where might I find city birth and death records in here?"

Malik just shrugs. He's used to these particular differences in ideology, it seems, and knows when not to press the issue. He simply leans back in the chair, balancing it on one leg as he taps his fingers on the table, considering the answers to the questions. "I'd think that the Temples would be a good place to start, there," he tells the other two. "They have some history of recording such things. Maybe more meticulously than the city government."

Garakos nods gravely about House records being complicated. "The city birth and death records aren't so much a thing, or weren't until recently. But temples," he nods to Malik, "often kept records of births and baptisms and confirmations and such. Modern recordkeeping is just that: modern. But you may find /tax/ records in the city's archives," he says thoughtfully. "Taxation is much older than other recordkeeping."

Seldan nods thoughtfully at both men's words. "The Grey Lady's Temple might hold death records, Telmentar's the birth records. I doubt you will find much among the Dreamer's records, much of that is arcane knowledge, prophecy and dreams." He rises, resolutely, and turns to head back into the records, this time seeking a different location."

"Not even for keeping track of the son of a powerful wizard?" Malik looks over his shoulder to Seldan, levelling the question like an intellectual challenge, of sorts. "Seems to me like that's exactly the kind of thing that the Dreamers would want to keep tabs on." Though he does nod back to Garakos. "Tax records do go back a long way. Though those are usually under seal, if memory serves. I doubt that we're going to get to them through legitimate means, unless we find an accountant with as much interest in the problem as we do."

Garakos taps his index finger beside his nose and says to Malik, "We -may- be able to search tax records. If we put in an official, legal request for them, then -they- will have to do the search and give us the records we request. And I think curing the plague is grounds for a legit request..."

Seldan pauses and turns, surprised at the need for a legal request, but nods and returns to the table. "They will know, far better than we. I shall submit such a request. The more to seek, the quicker to find, is it not so?" He shakes his head at Malik. "It is possible, but I have searched that library a few times." He adds a grin to that, the crescent and sphere of Eluna visible on a chain around his neck.

Malik gives the man in Eluna's colors a nod. "If you believe that there's nothing to be found there," he tells the man, "I have no reason not to believe you." Though his tone doesn't suggest that he entirely believes there isn't something to be found there. And then, to Garakos, another small nod. "But that could also take months to complete. If they even start it immediately. Plagues, after all, are good for coffers, whether the nobility admits to such or not. Land comes up for sale, estates get taxed, and everyone is desperate to spend their money on whatever cures come in, leading to greater trade. Never trust that someone is ready to help out of benevolence where profit is concerned."

Garakos ehs, but can't disagree with Malik's assertion that plagues are good for business. "But no one will admit to that publically," he instists. "They may be good for coffers, but they are bad for public supporrt unless you can be seen to be helping."

Seldan frowns at Malik's jaded commentary, eyeing the man for a moment. "There may be none left to tax, if something is not done. At the very least, we should submit the request, and continue our own work as well. I shall submit the request, but it seems that perhaps here is not the best place to begin. I thank you for your insights, Garakos."

Malik stands, grabbing his satchel from where he's sitting. "ALright. Well. It sounds like we at least know where to start." Even if there is some minor disagreement about the methods to be used, and the ease with which they'll find that information. "We aren't going to find anything just sitting here," he agrees. "I suggest that we get to work. The sooner we can find the answers, the more lives can be saved."

Garakos nods gravely to the two, and he says, "I should get back to my own researches. I am glad I could help you both." ANd so then he returns to the section of jail records which he hopes contains the Sandy Files.