Scene #1371: Drowvestigations

Owner	Pose
Faruja	After quite an adventure amidst paperwork, visas, security checks, and generally convincing his senior Inquisitorial colleagues that the odd fairy-drow /isn't/ A. a demon in a horrid disguise or B. somehow involved in the missing drow's kidnapping, Faruja Senra has finally managed to get Nasa into Mullonde on more than a passing visit. Unlike his usual rounds of pleasantries, it's all business. A squire in reds and blacks with far less nervousness than most of his youthful ilk escorts the fairy-drow into the hallway of a small nunnery. It's eerily empty for a city so openly faithful, and the pair of burly and well armed Templar guarding its doors likely doesn't help. Still, they let the fairy pass, with only a minimum of warning glares. One hallway to the right, and four rooms down, and Nasa may well find the figure of Faruja standing just outside the missing drowess' doorway. There's a scowl on his face, robes aflutter, as he tries (and fails) to peer into the past for the tenth time this week. The Inquisitor turns about, and manages something close to a smile. "Lady Nasa, thank ye for coming. Forgive the cliche, but methinks the plot ever thickens. Failing magic is one thing. Magic actively countered? 'Tis as though our culprit, or culprits, knew I would be about to look into this mess." Frustration is clear in his voice. Beyond the short ratling, the room is fairly spartan: several holy tracts, a desk with writing materials, a bed that was likely half a foot too short for its owner, and wooden floorboards. There's a light aura of magic about the room should Nasa detect such things, though due to some act of sorcery performed here, or the residue from Faruja's efforts, it may be difficult to tell at first. Overall, the same as any other room in the building thus far. "Mayhaps I missed something ye might be able to notice."
Na`Sabal-Une Fang	Nasa's movements were silent, even though she wasn't attempting to be stealthy, bare feet lending for a lack of noise as she walked through the nunnery, her gaze shifting towards the squire now and then as she walked. Having an escort wasn't too surprising. One that seemed to be relatively kind of fine with her presence was interesting though. But she was here on business. The templar guarding the door are given a small nod, a light bow of her head towards each. She takes a soft breath as she approaches the Inquisitor, shifting her ears thoughtfully as she looks towards the doorway. Her gaze shifts back towards Faruja. "Is countered for sure? That is to being strange, yes. Can probably remove the counterspell, though would to being very ...brutish way, potentially to destroying traces of other magic..." Nasa murmurs, her gaze shifting towards the doorway, reflexively beginning to scent for magic, as her eyes begin to glow, the red centers of them almost seeming to give off heat as they did. And that magic is seen relatively easily. Well then. "Do you to have an item or something that was to being enchanted or the drowess did to casting magic over that might still to having traces? Would to help Nasa see difference between magic that is hers and magic that isn't to being hers... also perhaps every known person who has to being in the room so that can to seeing if finds scents that are to being out of place." Nasa murmurs, her eyes trailing around the room quickly to see if anything immediately seemed out of place simply from appearance, her feet absently brushing on the floorboards to pull lightly at the edges to check for loose ones semi-reflexively. "Did she to writing a journal or anything in the drow tongue? If did, did to have the other drowesses to translating, or is still to being mystery?"
Faruja	There's a nod from the rat. "Quite. Some form of anti-scrying technique, however, I am hardly an expert on such. Bit of a puzzle for our more theoretical and defensively minded casters. One we hardly hath the time to wait upon their findings. If she lives, I want her back." Time is of the essence, it seems. Faruja's head tilts as he considers. "But first, hath a look upon the magery inflicted. Devour it later." At her questions, the nezumi reaches into his robes. After a moment, there's the top part of what might have been a cane, or a stave. It's wooden, and the head is shaped into an Ajoran cross. It radiates magic. To one such as Nasa? The scent of fungal growth might not be the most pleasant of smells, but it certainly is distinct from that of Faruja's own magic as well as a number of similar blends of the Ivalician variety. There's healing magic on the cane, and the room similarly reeks of it. As does the tome that Faruja pulls out, offering both to the drowess. "She was quite adamant about 'Overcoming her lineage' as she put it, and learning white magery." From the scent of things, she was definitely trying. But there's another scent of magic. For all of the obvious magery in the room, there's a spot on the cieling that's almost lost amidst the fungal and healing scent. A twisted inversion, carrion hidden amidst verdant mushroom growth and time magic relativity tampering. "I had thought of such, however, I cannot yet trust the two until we either hath a corpse, or our missing Lady." The book reads as a journal of sorts. The missing drowess, it seems, was a member of disgraced nobility. In a rare turn of heart, after being rejected by her kind's spidery goddess and cast out by her family, sough succor rather than vengeance. A chance encounter in her native land's underground caverns with an overworld merchant led to tales of light-skinned elves, gods of acceptance, and stranger things. Fleeing, the half-spider half-elf creatures of her world on her heels, luck and guile managed to save her life and into the light she'd never witnessed. The next few pages feature illustrations. The sky, a great device Nasa might recognize as a warpgate, and then a final picture. The very rodent not far from her, surrounded by the light of the sun, with obviously stylized angels and crosses hovering about. The minor work of art's grandiose design is explained swiftly enough by the journal's author: of how she landed amidst Ivalice's roadways, and found by the Inquisitor in question. The rest of the pages go into great detail of daily life in Mullonde, and meeting the pair of fellow Drow; soon fast friends. If the journal is correct, then the pair of other drow may well be innocent. Or simply good at their job. It's certainly not the work of someone spying, filled with equal amounts candid frustrations with the racism of many humans in Mullonde, even as it chronicals the birth of a true believer. But the last entry may seem odd. The drow mentions headaches, dizziness, and seeing shadows at night in her room. And the worst of it? Dreams of spiders in the dark wrapping her up in horrid webbing.
Na`Sabal-Une Fang	"The spell could to being placed on the drowess herself if is to being anti-scrying. Hopes is not, because that would to making harder to doing." Nasa murmurs softly, her ears twitching as she thoroughly begins to examine the magic in the rooms, searching for the different scents and visuals of the magic. She carefully began to single out the magic that seemed out of place. Different sources? "The stench of evil is to being here. And... time..? Time... is unsure what type though, is naut to being that good at magic. The drowess' magic does to seem to being untainted, though does to have flavour of the underdark unsurprisingly. Smells fungal." Which kind of made her mouth water, but she didn't comment on /that/ part. She lifted her hand, beginning to draw forth her spell-like ability of Faerie Fire, outlining the areas with differing magic, grey for the time magic, black for the evil magics. "Those places should to being examined thoroughly if can." Nasa murmurs, scenting the air and trying to isolate the antimagic with tiny shards of her own magic, seeing where it disappeared and where it didn't. "If she was, then was doing good job of it. Magic here does to mostly being light magic, yes." She points to the spot on the ceiling that was inversion, that carrion of black magic. "Does naut like that. Makes Nasa's skin crawl and both being drawn towards it at same time." She closes her eyes, trying to get the 'feel' for it, doing her best to see if it felt like any of the old spells she used to know when she was a cleric of Lolth. Mmmmh. But her connection to that magic was gone, so it was likely to no avail, though if it felt like Lolthian magic, a theory of what has happened to her was already beginning to form. Finally, Nasa comes to the journal. She poured over it silently, reading it carefully and slowly. This story was similar to her own. A story that seemed to repeat itself often within Drow society. As she turned the page, she continued to read in silence, musing over each word and reading each illustration. Warpgates, Faruja, and the various details of life in Mullonde. Luckily, Nasa was a fast reader when it came to the Drow tongue, or that would have possibly taken days. "The two drow that do to live here are innocent. Guard them and ask them if they have to been having headaches and seeing shadows in their rooms. If they are, to move their rooms and to ensure that they are to never being alone if can." Nasa states simply. She takes a deep breath, turning towards Faruja. "She also was naut spy." She points to the area of dark magic. "She has probably to being taken back to the Underdark by the Drow." Nasa then began to word-for-word translate the entries for Faruja, even writing them down on a produced scrap of cloth for him. "That is what last entry does to say. Headaches, dizziness, shadows at night in her room, and spiders in the dark. Either is Drow that did to take her, or someone who was to framing them." Nasa says with a frown.
Faruja	Nasa's words about the spell bring yet another frown to the rat's face. For once, she's /not/ being reassuring. "'Twould make bloody sense. I hath had several of mine colleagues far more proficient in non-combat magery than mineself comb the place. Nothing." Faruja's ears perk. Na'sa's fairy fire spreads easily enough, fae workings mixing nicely with mushrooms and light-magic that's all but heavily worked into the building itself. Seems white magic is a favorite among those inclined to joining the Church. Faruja nods to the fairy-drow, and bends over the time-magic marked areas. After working in each, he takes out two rolls of tape. A vast majority of the time magic areas get marked with white tape. A single area is marked with grey duct tape. The rat stands. "The white belongs to mineself, or one of mine colleagues. The grey? Either our guards hath much to answer for in allowing an investigator into an area I specifically forbade entrance upon without mine consent, or we hath a rogue time mage on our hands." a pause. "Quite. Ye shall find this covenant, as well as a vast majority, study healing magics." The rat considers, then finally nods. "Na'sa? Tell me, canst ye eliminate magic? Devour everything except this evil aura, and our unknown mage's, hmm?" Best to be left with just th relevent evidence rather than the abundance of interference. Faruja listens, jotting down his own notes, before taking the scrap of paper. It's folded gently into a small side-bag for evidence. There's a small nod from the rat-eared male. "Faram be praised! Bloody tragedy enough as 'tis, I hath had quite enough of traitors and spies as of late." The rat turns about, tapping his ears, whispering into a linkshell. After a minute or two, he turns about. "Four templar apiece until we can find a proper safehouse for them." Promises the rat. Then, he walks over to the indicated aura of evil. An interesting shade of green crosses the rat's features, and he bolts out the door. After a minute or two of wretching sounds a corridor or two away, and he walks back. The rage in his eye shows better than his now ill-looking face. "/That/, mine dear, is bloody necromancy, Lord's oath on it. And not of the usual Ivalician strain. I fear for her even more now. Canst ye tell me anything? I fear mine...tolerance of such is..." He shrugs. She /did/ just get an example of it. A further look, even with Na'sa's lack of senses, and it all but reeks of drow necromancy. Likely not /her/ Underdark, but it carries that same dank smell. Worst of all? There's the lingering note of spiders in it.
Na`Sabal-Une Fang	"If is anti-magic in room, would to making it hard to tell. Nasa can to tell because is naut entirely magic that is to using." Nasa responds softly to Faruja, watching as he marks the various areas. Okay, so white areas were people who were supposed to be in there, the grey area was an outsider, and the black area ... okay. She shifts her ears slightly as she gives a nod towards Faruja. "So to devouring all magic except for those two areas. Understands." Nasa says softly. Nasa lifts her hand carefully, her eyes beginning to glow more brilliantly as a sickly red and black energy flickers into existence on Nasa's hand. Even to those without magical senses, the magic in the area begins to gather to her hand, forming a sphere on top of Nasa's hand... which she then promptly devours rather unceremoniously into that sharp-toothed mouth of hers, a few traces of magic escaping her on the next couple of breaths. It was a lot of magic, she'd probably be sated for a while on that. And most of it was delicious, though the time magic made her ever-so-slightly nervous, but any negative effects of it ~should~ be stopped by her magical resistance. Let's just hope she doesn't go into some sort of trance where she sees a bunch of visions or anything like that, because that would probably make her freak out slightly, and freaked out Nasas bite. "Done." Nasa murmurs softly, seeming to bounce on her feet rather energetically with the excess energy. "Should to making easier to examine now, yes. Nasa is bad at that. Also good-drowess does to having tasty magic energy." Nasa comments idly, her wings shifting a bit. After that, she began to carefully scent the room around the errant magical area, seeing if she can pick up any particular normal scents of people who might not belong, though with how many people had come in... scent may have been ruined by now. "Siyo, betrayal is to being bad. Does to think is probably naut betrayal ... at least naut of Drow. She did to mention being troubled by racism of some of the humans, so unknown time magic could to having been done by a human. May to being good to round up any time mages that have to been seen coming into temple, with extra scrutiny to elves and humans. This one does to naut reek as much of dark magic, so could to being a red herring, though." The mention of templar guards gets a smile and nod from Nasa. That sounded pretty good to her. Okay. It might not stop it if they were particularly strong elites, but four people should make enough noise they should know something is going on then, and at least one of them should hopefully survive as a witness if they /were/ attacked. Faruja's response to the magic was both unsurprising, mildly amusing, and slightly worrying. Also it made Nasa screw up her nose slightly, glad that he did it /outside/ instead of in the room, sparing her nose of the worst of it! "Necromancy... mmh. That is to being horrible. And nau, that is to naut being Ivalician." Nasa says, her nose wrinkling more as the reek of the necromancy was now much easier to pick out with less to it. "That is to being Drow necromancy. Is definitely Lolthian as well, does to smelling spiders." Nasa frowns at this, the cursed mark on her burning at being in proximity to Lolthian magic, as if she could feel the scorn and hatred of Lolth simply by being in that room. "You would to knowing if a scent is to being out of place more than Nasa, can to pick up anything that does to smell out of place in room?" She asks, assuming that, since Faruja was totally a rat-person, that he had a strong sense of smell, too.
Faruja	Faruja can't help it. He /stares/ as Na'sa draws in the magic, and then takes a massive chomp from it. The time mage is certainly a little taken aback. Luckily, there's little side effects for Na'sa! Most of the non-elite practictioners aren't skilled enough to really effect her magic resistance, and Faruja's own would only carry an air of frustration, as well as the vague taste of cheddar and booze. "...Erm, if I may? /Warn/ others about that, Na'sa, mine dear." /Definitely/ a bit freaked out. FAruja coughs, and manages to calm down a bit after a moment. The more mundane scents are certainly muted after so much magical devouring. With such a highly magical land as Ivalice, the two are all but interchangeable, with even the meanest of farmboys able to make a magical spark if they put time and effort into it. A few more nods, and jotted notes on a pad. The rat speaks again after Nasa speaks of spiders and Loth. And then he's asked to use his snoz to do the digging. A brow twitches. His muzzle opens as if in rebuke...then closes. Hard to cry racism when it's /true/. "...Fine." Huffs the rat, and he bends over to sniff along the ground. Sniff. Sniff sniff. That irritation vanishes as the rat hunts, and comes upon the corner with the evil magic. Steeling his stomach, the rat incants, and the ceiling's wood is ripped away. He has about half a second to move as thick, white strands fall from the ceiling. Na'sa might recognize the massive gouts of white. Drider silk. Amidst it is a scrap of blue cloth. The rat takes his cane, and gathers said scrap and silk. "Bloody abyss, methinks we hath an infestation." The scrap of cloth radiates magic, as does the silk. The silk is drowned in that evil scent. As for the cloth? It smells of the unknown time mage's. "This, in mine occupation Lady Na'sa, is what we refer to as a 'lead'. We figure out whom /this/ belongs to..." A point towards the grey magic. "And Lord willing she lives, methinks we shall find our missing Lady. What say ye to a trip over to dear Inquisitor Diamonde's home. Better nose than a nezumi for magic, mine old mentor's."
Na`Sabal-Une Fang	"...Is devouring magic, what did to expect it to look like?" Nasa asks softly of Faruja. Of course, the Hand of Transference had a mild amount of taint to it. Nasa herself did, though it was an underlying thing to her nature magic. And something she was working to remove, and the nature magic itself was definitely more prevalent. The lack of side-effects was honestly appreciated though. The scents were muted and seemed off, but still... it seemed she was able to more or less scent it well enough. Aaaand then Faruja's brow twitched when the scenting was mentioned. Nasa totally hadn't intended to be racist, more resourceful and to the point. Even if it was a bit ... uncaring of feelings at times when she was. When he tore away the ceiling, Nasa's eyes narrow, the red glow to them seeming to reflect the glower of hatred in her eyes. "Dridersilk." Nasa hisses out, her voice utterly dripping with resentment. "Is a lead, and does to further connect the Drow to this. One of Lolth's chosen may have abducted her, and that does to mean that we do to need to act /quickly/." Nasa says, immediately stepping towards Faruja and scenting that cloth. "That's the time mage's, too..." Nasa says. And it gave her a scent to follow and keep her nose out whenever she was in Ivalice. "If she lives, she will to probably being in a sore state. Lolth does naut to take well to her children trying to flee and turn to the light. Let us to going to your mentor, yes." Nasa says, her wings folding against her back. Her face showed her resolve and focus, wanting to get this over with and quite possibly tear whoever had instigated this into pieces.