[The Keep] Walking to Skye

[Straken]

“We start canvasing. Prioritize private residences, and if need be we hit the market and the pub. It will be easier to get people to talk at the pub, but it will be mostly gossip; private residences will be more inclined to share structured information if we can find the folks willing to talk to solicitors,” Ruarc spoke as he checked over his clipboard. Looking over to Drysi, he felt an odd bit of nostalgia as he recalled some of the missions he accompanied his grandfather on. Shaking the thought, Ruarc motioned for Drysi and Laoise to follow as he started down a side street.

Stopping in front of a quaint looking home, Ruarc opened the gate to the front yard and walked the short distance to the front door. Laoise motioned for Drysi to stay beside her just inside the gate, but still within earshot of Ruarc. After a few moments, an elderly man came to the door and took a few moments to observe the strangers at his door.

“Cān I 'elp ye?” The man asked, his accent thick.

“Tráthnóna, sir,” Ruarc greeted, the addition of some Irish seemed to make the old man relax a bit. “My name is Ruarc Flynn, and I’m a representative of the Brennan Security Firm. The county council has contracted us to investigate reports of odd occurrences in the area. Do you have time to speak with me?”

The old man chewed on the words for a bit as he squinted up at Ruarc.

“Y’ a soldier, laddy?” he asked, his hand gesturing towards his own face as he alluded to Ruarc’s scars.

“I’ve seen my share of action, sir.”

“Ah. Me grandson's in the army, y'know. Never too keen on chattin' 'bout his deployments, bless him. Aye, I can have a natter with ya. Name’s Eoghan meself.”

The old man shuffled out the door, closing it behind him, before moving to sit in a chair on the porch and motioning for Ruarc to take a seat in the other. After the druid nodded and sat, the old man gestured towards Laoise and Drysi. “They are?”

“That’s Miss Laoise, she is an analyst with the firm. She’s got a better mind for data than I do, so she is assisting me. The younger lass is Drysi, my niece working as a summer intern with Miss Laoise.”

The old man offered them a wave.

“So, what’s this about, lad?”

“As I mentioned, the firm I represent has been brought in by the county council, in tandem with the Bombelles Insurance Agency, to investigate reports from villages in the area about peculiar goings-on. BIA insists that, given the volume, security specialists be brought on,” Ruarc spoke matter-of-factly, and as though he were reciting a preamble his superiors required him to, then he gestured towards Eoghan. “So, sir, if there is anything in the area that you’ve found at all suspicious, or even simply peculiar; feel free to let me know.”

Eoghan stroked his chin for a moment before looking like he ate something sour.

“They ain't makin' ya waste time lookin' into O'Sullivan's sheep, are they now?”

“Depends. What happened with the sheep?”

“Duffer swears up an’ down that there’s a creature in his fields scarin’ his sheep, but Cilian, a local lad an’ fine hunter, took a gander an’ says it’s likely just a stray dog, begorrah.”

Old Eoghan proceeded to then ramble about some local dogs in the area, an odd bird he saw one time, and that his neighbors have been arguing a lot lately; more so than usual. All of which Ruarc noted quietly and dutifully. After a bit, Eoghan began on a tangent story, but Ruarc deftly excused himself in order to continue his work. Making his way back to Drysi and Laoise, he handed his familiar the paper he’d been noting on and took a fresh sheet. What followed was four more houses, none of which were willing to talk to Ruarc; aside from one that took the time to call him a peeler.

“And that sums up how this typically goes,” Ruarc said to Drysi as he let out an uncharacteristic sigh. They stood at a street corner, eyeing the crossroad. “Feel up for splitting up and trying it out yourself? You’re welcome to keep tagging along. Otherwise you can hit the markets or some more houses. Although, required warning, if you opt for houses, standard stranger danger rules stand; use common sense, zap any weirdos.”

[Kokuten]

A certain anxiety arose in Drysi's chest every time Mr. Flynn strode up to someone's door. There had to be a moment at some point where they'd catch him out--find out he wasn't he said he was. By the fifth house, she began to settle, almost sold on this story that Ruarc spun. If she believed well enough, she found it no different than hiding she was a mage.

When it came to be her turn to decide what to do, the trepidation came back. The uneasiness of it all made her fidget. What would Willow do in this situation?

"I'll try a house," she sputtered, suddenly.

Willow would be brazen. Brave. To be like that equally excited and frightened Drysi. As her nerves tightened her muscles, she felt Gideon shift under her shirt. Without her cloak, he had to coil around her chest to stay out of sight.

"Do you have a plan?" resonated his words in her mind, cool as an autumn breeze.

"I did," Drysi mumbled internally, her heart pumping as she walked up the lane to another house, "but I think it amounted to just being Mr. Flynn's niece."

Knock, knock.

Drysi's heart fluttered, as she realized she should have thought more about this. Then, the balm of Gideon's voice touched her mind.

"Follow my lead."

[Straken]

Nodding his assent, Ruarc gave Laoise a glance before splitting off and walking towards some of the businesses. Laoise gave the fledgling druid a reassuring smile before she similarly made her way down the street and disappeared around the bend. Left alone on the block, the triclops had three more houses on the row to attend to before crossing to the far side. The first house for her was a quaint looking cottage with a picket fence around its yard much as the others had but with the added charm of being wreathed in vines and greenery. Crossing the threshold of the property however made the charm fade. Were it tended the small yard was likely a pleasant garden, but now it was overgrown and carried an underlying air of anxiety that whispered to the backs of Drysi’s and Gideon’s perception. The curtains of the house were all drawn despite hours of sunlight remaining, and a few exterior wall hangings had been knocked askew and yet to be righted.

The stone stoop rose slightly to the door, and the knocks against the solid wood echoed into the home, and from within Drysi could hear something fall. After a few long moments the curtains of a nearby window shifted, and a few moments later several locks could be heard turning and shifting. Slowly the door inched open, still held by a chair lock to prevent the door from opening to far. Peeking, or rather leering, through the gap was the face of a woman in her late thirties. Her face looked drained and her eyes cautious, but as she saw Drysi was alone seemed to relax ever so slightly.

“Y-yes?”

[Kokuten]

Drysi stared for much longer than she should have. She looked like whatever data was needed in her brain was still loading. In truth, she was still digesting what pitch Gideon was giving her.

"Hi!" she erupted in a bubbly manner, coming up to one foot as if to cheer the woman on for opening the door, "I'm doing a survey for Bombellas Insurance Agency in cooperation with Brennan Security. We're an organization representing the insurable interests of Irish homeowners, and we're looking to set up an office in Tuam. Your local Agent, Mr. Vince Vandermoor, is interested in what you, the homeowner, have to say about the security of your family, your home, and your community."

At that, Drysi pulled out a fresh coilbound notebook from her bag with one of the more boring pens. Her smile was a little more than necessary, but it hid the panic beneath the surface.

"Ooooh Gid!" hissed the mind of the apprentice, "What've you gotten me into!? She's gunna fookin' chop me up and put me in a fookin' stew!"

"Do you have time for a few questions?"

"Do you have time for a few questions?" parroted Drysi in Gideon's cadence, but in her own voice, "All answers collected are anonymized for your privacy, and at your request, the agency can mail you a copy of our privacy policy."

"Where are you even gettin' this from!?"

"I passed the time reading some of Vincent's reference material for customer service while you were filling out paperwork."