Wildcard - Investigation - RPLOG
Participants
Date
15/6/479
Log
There is a bit of a crowd gathering in Saint's Square, though more out of curiousity than anything else. The doors of the church remain open, but Noon Mass has been canceled today. It is a situation of note, since no one can remember that ever happening. Occasionally a worried looking priest or accolyte will put on a brave face and tell the curious that everything is fine, but it is obvious that something is up.
Lucasiel had been looking forward to a rathe relaxing day. But that seems to not be what will happening today. The panther steps up to the front of the crowd with the rest of the onlooking beings, but unlike the others, she is bedecked in all of her armour, helmet tucked under her arm. "Well, I wonder what the situation is today..."
"Pardon me, Dearie," comes a weathered old voice from below Lucasiel's line of sight. A slight adjustment reveals a short, almost round little black bear in priestess garb and wearing thick glasses. "Are you with the guards?" the little old woman asks, "Only, if you are you should probably get to the cloisters soon. That captain of yours seems rather agitated."
"No," Lucasiel replies, looking down towards the bear and offering a smile. "I am... Here to help, though. I will go meet with them all the same, thank you," she says, offering a bow of her head before moving off to find this guard captain. She was curious what the situation was, but standing around in the crowd wasn't likely to give her the answer she sought.
"Oh," the little black bear cries, hurrying after Lucasiel, "No, dear, no! If you are not part of the guard than you shouldn't be back here at all!" But there is no way that the rotund little woman is going to catch up now.
In the cloisters, just outside a little residence for one of the priests, a harried looking polar bear in priestly vestiments is wearily talking with a rather put out looking fox.
"You are trying to tell me that he went in here for a nap and never came out again?" the fox is asking the bear, apparently not for the first time. Both of them look up at Lucasiel as she clanks and rattles toward them.
Lucasiel raises her free hand, waving off Memna's concerns. "Do not worry. I still have all the proper authority," she says, not breaking stride as she approaches the cloister, tail flicking as she slows to a stop. "I am here to assist in the investigation and, if need be, any apprehension. But I need to be caught up to speed on the situation."
The bear opens his mouth, about to go over the story yet again, but the fox cuts him off. "And just who are you?" he barks out, gruffly, "This incident is under my jurisdiction and I am just about to call this case closed anyway."
"Lucasiel Longtail," The armoured cat replies curtly. "If you wish to market it closed, feel free. I am more than capable of reopening it under my own lead. But it would be simpler to simply work together, don't you think?" She waits for a moment, not long enough for much of a reply. "Now then, what's the incident?"
The polar bear takes this as his cue to speak. "Father Aidan was supposed to lead the noon mass today," he says, "He said he was retiring to his room for a bit of rest before the gathering, but now he has vanished! I came to wake him about half an hour ago, but he did not answer his door and it was locked from inside. I began to be concerned and called for a key to open the door. But when we looked, he was not there and we are very worried for him."
The fox rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "So an old man wandered off and left his door locked behind him," he says, "No reason for the guard to be involved at all. We'll just put his description around. He will show up on his own, I'm sure."
"Do you know if anyone had recently had meetings with him?" Lucasiel asks, touching a finger to her chin. "Any private sessions, or confessions? Or, perhaps, did anyone see someone going into his room before or after his nap?"
The fox in the city guard uniform rolls his eyes and stalks away. "Fine," he says, "Let the Longtails muck around with it. The city guard has actual WORK to do." He whistles and three other guardsmen leave their perusal of the area to trot after him. Looks like Luca is on her own.
"No," the polar bear says, shaking his head, "Father Aidan does not do much one-on-one counseling any more. Usually he just sticks to reading from the First Text and directing Noon Mass. Poor man had a bad experience a few months ago." The polar bear shakes himself and gets back on topic. "I spoke to him just before he went to nap," he continues, "Left him right here. As far as I know, no one went through that door between when Father Aiden went in and when I unlocked it."
Lucasiel watches the others leave before snorting. "And they call themselves protectors," she mumbles before looking back towards the bear. "A bad experience? Tell me about it," she says, tilting her head. "Are there any windows in his room? May I examine it?" She asks, tail flicking from side to side.
"Of course," the polar bear says, opening the door and gesturing Lucasiel inside.
There is not much to see, honestly. There is a low bed with a mat of woven rushes and a few blankets, disturbed as if someone was recently there and did not make the bed when they left. Beneath it is an empty chamber pot and a little locked footlocker. On the other side of the room is a low table that has doubtless been used as a desk. It holds a little journal and quill and ink along with a small, potted flower. High on one wall there is a small window that let's the afternoon light stream in. It might be large enough for a being to fit through, but it would be difficult to reach.
"Father Aiden had a woman come to him for advice," the bear explains, "Not personally, just as a member of the clergy. I do not know the details, you understand. They spoke at some length and she left, seeming quite a bit better for having spoken to someone." The bear hesitates, then continues. "It was only two days later that this very same being was brought to us to be prepared for burial. It seems that she killed herself."
Lucasiel slowly takes in the room as she listens, ears flicking. "Did you check the graves?" she asks, running her fingers over the cover of the journal, humming. She wouldn't look through it -just- yet. "In the event he was paying his respects? Has his home been checked, too?"
"This IS his home," the polar bear says, "Aidan has lived here for more than a decade. And yes, we have looked everywhere in the church compound. He is still strong and healthy. But he is an old man and never goes far. It is rare that he leaves the church and he never goes without an escort."
Lucasiel pauses for a moment before tapping the journal. "Would you mind? Just enough to peek at the latest entries and, perhaps, the time of that meeting. It may provide valuable insight as to where he might be." She takes the book up and holds it gently in her fingers, humming. "What a strange thing. And do me a favour? Check under the bed for any kind of trap doors."
