A Storied Working Lunch

There is a lull in the mid-day, just after the 'lunch rush' has finished and before the dinner crowd is even considering getting deep into their cups. It is an easier time of day to find someone and talk, given that there isn't nearly as much clamor and noise.

Rune is sitting at one of the tables, scratching a pencil at the page of a notebook. Her focus is so set on the task that she seems to be tuning out the world around her, and any arrivals she might be waiting for. In fact, she is paying it so much attention that the rogue is pulling quite an amusing face, her nose scrunched and her lip caught between her teeth as she seems to be puzzling out something, scratching out words before writing new ones at a seemingly frantic pace.

There's even a bowl of food and a drink beside her, but both look as if they have been entirely abandoned. The stew inside the bowl looks as if it has been sitting long enough to grow quite cold. Eww.

"Y'know," says a voice just under tabletop level, "part of the point of a 'working lunch' is the 'lunch.'" The voice's owner rises just enough to reveal blond hair and green-purple eyes, showing herself to be a Magpie on, likely, the very tip of tiptoe to be seen over the table.

Grinning, she clambers up into the chair next to her, flagging down the server. "Pigeon pie an' dockworker's tea? Also whatever she's having," she says, motioning to Rune. Once the server leaves, Magpie leans on the table, grinning. "So, what'cha working on?"

At first, Rune doesn't seem to realize the voice is speaking to her, so it takes a beat before she looks up, blinking as if she were re-aligning herself with her surroundings. Alas, getting lost in writing is something that is all too easy to do, it seems. "Oh, hey there, Magpie. Sorry, I got a little distracted." It seems an effort to set the pencil down, but she manages, somehow.

"A while back, Cor'lana was telling me some of her past, her story. So I'm working on writing it into a short novel for my patron." Then, with a shy sort of look, she brushes a bit of hair back behind one half-elven ear, "Just lost track of time." Then, she reaches over to take a spoon full of her stew, making a face. "Very... lost track of time." Double eww.

"Yeah I get that," Magpie chuckles. "When the girl comes back, ask for something new, I got the tab today. So your patron, is this a just-for-him deal, or you gonna give me a title I can look for next time I want *good* books to read? ...I say good, because I kinda have a side-side hobby of reading terrible romance on purpose, to laugh at how terrible it is. But even if it's a story about Cor'Lana, I'm gonna guess it ain't a romance, so."

Drumming her fingers on the table, the gnome looks left and right, clearly trying her best not to somehow teleport into the kitchens and collect her food *now.* "...So speaking of diving headfirst into projects, you said you had one for me?"

"You don't have to do that..." Rune starts, then lifts another spoon full towards her mouth and... decides better of it. "But... I appreciate it." Yeah, cold stew is not fun.

Putting a hand on the notebook, the rogue smirks a little bit, "It's... sort of a two-way street situation. I give them stories, and I get fantastical magical powers and the pleasure of not pissing off the Fae." Leaning back, she stretches her arms out over her head, and there is some audible cracks and pops from how long she's been hunched over, writing. "You're welcome to have a read before I hand it off, though."

A smirk plays on her lips, "A Crimson Pen fan, then, huh? This isn't nearly as bawdy. I'd feel a little strange writing my friends in the grips of passion, and from what I've talked about with Cor'lana, she's likely far more vanilla than the Pen novels make her out to be." A shrug, "But there's some romance. She told me about meeting and falling in love with Telamon."

Then, Magpie does her the good graces of getting her back on topic. "Oh, right." Leaning down, Rune reaches into a bag at her side and pulls out a coiled belt. It already looks to be enchanted with some measure of skill, but other than the signs of such magical works, it seems relatively plain. "I was wondering if you could make any improvements to this? It helps bolster my stamina and athletic prowess, but I imagine there's more that can be done."

"Oh man, Crimson Pen," Magpie says around a short laugh. "Yeah there is *nothing* like 'topaz orbs' and 'raven waterfalls' to make pull you out of a day of academia! I don't know who they are, but *oh boy* you can tell they've never been told 'no' just in word choice alone. But yeah I'd *love* to have a look, especially if it's as far from 'Melaton and Lor'Cana' as it gets."

When Rune brings out the belt, Magpie leans over the table to drag it to her side, turning it over and peering at it with a practiced eye. "Hm... Yeah this is good work! Solid enchantments, reinforced mana flows.. nice work around the edges, sometimes you get leakage at the outer boundaries. Sometimes an enchanter'll put all their attention on the effect, and forget to be neat about the boring parts."

Tilting her head, she lets the belt unroll to the floor, turning it twice, and nodding firmly. "Yeah, I can give 'er a shine. There's still more the spellwork can hold, should be good for a little extra. Gimme a few days, and I'll send you an invoice and your belt?"

Rune's own laugh joins in at the descriptions that come out of some of the Crimson Pen novels, "If you believe them, Cor'lana is an evil mistress who lures unsuspecting men with her sexual whiles... and I'm off having orgies with everyone I've ever adventured with." She smirks, "Or if you read the book about Harkashan, I'm a fainting damsel in distress." She fans herself exaggeratedly.

"But no, I'm more about real stories, real adventures, the things that the gods and the Fae don't understand because they're damn near immortal. Figure it gives them a glimpse into the people who live and die on their choices." Rune explains, taking a drink from her mug, which still seems passable after having sat out, thankfully.

Watching Magpie survey the belt, she nods along with the assessment, as if she knows anything about magical enchantments. She does not. "Anything you can do on it, I'd appreciate. These days we're running into more and more dangerous threats and I'd like not to take a second visit to the halls if I can help it."

"Y'know... before long, I might have a story for you," Magpie says, carefully rolling the belt up, and leaning down to stuff it into a waiting backpack. "About demon-hunting wizards, and what happened to them after they retired from the life and their enemies caught up to them. I'm still figuring all the pieces out, but... It's a pretty compelling story, so far. Once you're done with that, and I'm done learning the whole thing, might be worth a lesson in well-meaning hubris?"

And her pie and tea are set down, and Magpie's entire face lights up. "Frida, my compliments to the cook. If this tastes half as good as it smells, it'll be the best thing I've eaten all week! And Rune here needs a new lunch, she arted too hard to eat."

"Sounds like a fascinating story." Rune quirks an eyebrow, as if she were trying to put the pieces together with the small bits of information already provided. "Once you get the whole tale, I'd be more than happy to help you put it to the written word." She taps her fingers along the edge of the notebook. "I'm out of practice, so this is my first shot at actually doing writing in a long time."

A sheepish expression follows as Magpie's food is brought over and the gnome so neatly describes her lack of attention to her meal. "Sorry." She murmurs again, "Another stew would be great. Thanks."

Once Frida departs, Rune turns her attention back to Magpie, "Sounds as if you've been keeping yourself busy, though. Most of my last few months have either been wrapped up in demon, fae, or familial bullshit."

"Was pretty slow for awhile," Magpie replies, nodding. "Then some asshole broke into my room, set a bunch of stuff on fire to cover what he was stealing, then *I GOT BLAMED FOR IT* and now things are busy aaaaaall over again. Because of course it's never just what it seems like, right?"

Sighing, she breaks the crust on the pie, and starts mixing the pie top among all the heavenly-smelling stew within. "I mean it'd be *nice* if it ended with me yelling at Guild heads and getting a nice new room, but... At least this way it'll be more exciting for awhile! Jury's out on whether that'll be a good thing, or not."

"I think I heard a little about that." Rune winces, "Didn't they originally think it was some sort of assignment you were working on that blew up the room?" She shakes her head.

"I mean, there's a few people I know of who are likely to experiment with explosions and fire, so it's not /hugely/ out of the realm of possibility." Seems she is familiar with some Gobbo tendencies to solve everything with fire, and if that doesn't solve the problem, use more fire. "But you've always seemed to know your shit when it comes to magic."

"So... what exactly was he trying to steal from your room?"

"Now you're not wrong, but the *reason* you're not wrong is part of why I got to yell at Guild heads," Magpie says, lifting a finger. "They publically, in the newspapers, said that it was a *student's assignment* being practiced out of safe grounds. Not the problems with that are pretty manifold; *One,* I graduated from the Academy, *in Rune,* like thirteen years ago. ...Speaking of which I need to see if I can get a copy of my diploma because *it was burned to ash.*

"Two? I'm an *archivist* more than a research arcanist. My job's to know who wrote on the topic you want to know about, and where that book is. Unless something has gone in *extremely silly directions,* explosions are *not* an occupational hazard.

"*Three,* not only did they publicly blame *me* for the explosion, they *punished* me for it. I lost my security deposit and was *banned* from staying on Guild grounds until my room was repaired. Which is why I'm on a first-name basis with the staff here, if you follow. And four? The thief was actually caught *right outside the Guildhall, found to be possessed, and already bundled up for justice. And none of that mattered! I *might* seek out the Crimson Pen and ask if they want to try their hand at *legal drama,* because oh boy would this qualify!"

By this point, Magpie is standing fully on her chair, waving a chunk of potato speared on her fork, and only *now* does she realize this. Her cheeks flare alight, she clears her throat, and settles back down to seating. "So um... What got stolen was um... One of the wizards I was talking about before. He'd sort of made contingency plans for his death, but his contingency body got murdered before he could settle into it. ...So now he's a book."

Sometimes, you just have to sit back and listen, especially when the story is as compelling as what Magpie begins to lay out before her. There's an obvious expression of keen interest, and eyerolling at the right moments to express how stupid she believes the Guild may very well have been throughout the whole set of strange circumstances.

Somewhere along the line, Rune's stew has arrived and she's eating a spoonful while listening at the moment that Magpie finally realizes she's up on a chair waving that potato. The rogue acts like this is perfectly normal, and as the daughter of a storyteller, perhaps it is. "Sounds like someone in authority might have had it out for you. I mean, that's a few too many 'mistakes' for it to be something innocent."

However, she does catch on a couple of things, "You said they were possessed?" Her mind immediately goes to some other possessions as of late. "Aelwyn's brother was possessed not long ago, and there've been a few others, do you know if it's related to that?" She asks. And then, perhaps more curiously, "Wait... how does a person become a book? I mean, I was sucked into a magical book that traps people before, but... I assume this is different?"

"Yeah it's like... So there's magic that's forbidden, and with good reason," Magpie says. "Most of it has to do with souls. But if all you're fiddling with is your *own* soul... well, that's a gray area, cos you're either not hurting anyone if it goes right, or you're a self-solving problem if it goes wrong. So if you're a really, really powerful wizard gettin' on in years, maybe you worry you're running out of time to learn *all the things.* So... maybe you set a spell to trap your soul in something when you die. And maybe you make a clone of yourself, and keep it in stasis until *another* spell is set to wait for your soul to come near it, and make the transfer. Then you wake up in a fresh body, with all your memories, knowledge, and -- and this is the most important part -- tenure. It ain't exactly *common,* but it's happened enough times the Guild's got policies to handle it."

"Now I don't know if it's related, but the thing about this wizard and his buddies? Back in the day, they were really, really good diabolists. By which I mean, they were people who *learned* about the Abyss and its residents, the better to fight them. And -- get this, you're gonna love this -- they'd do it by *just going into the Abyss and picking fights with demon lords.* So they learned a lot, and made a *lotta* enemies, and it looks like thanks to the whole V mess getting sorted, the power vacuum in the Hells is getting filled by more people who have it out for him. That's my *guess* anyway," she says, before taking a moment to stuff her face.

"Anyway the whole article and throwing me under the wagon was the Guild trying to cover something up. Turns out the book wizard's the last surviving member of the group; one died a year and change ago, the other went missing some months back, and the Guild leadership's panicking."

There's a worried expression that passes over Rune's features as Magpie gets into explaining the lengths that some individuals go to in order to remain alive and in power. Her lips press into a thin line, as if she were trying to imagine what kind of person does that... then her mind goes to a few individuals she has encountered in the past and settles there. "I've seen or heard of something like that before, though I'll admit I don't understand the magic behind it."

She polishes off a good half of the stew, seeming far more interested in eating now that it is actually warm. That, and it gives her an excuse to do something like taking in the information, "Makes me wonder if the reason that those old farts were still around had something to do with making a deal with one of the demons, rather than fighting them. Demons can be... fucking ruthless and give no shits for what you want if it interferes with what they want."

She reaches up with her free hand and rubs against her temple, "And now you're caught up trying to solve this mess, huh?" Because it always lands in an adventurer's lap eventually.

"I can definitely say in two cases, that would be absolutely untrue. My book friend, he's... he's *very* into fighting demons, devils, whatever. And I mean the place he made the receptacle for his soul *is* his book on everything about every individual demon lord he's ever fought, and all of their weaknesses," Magpie says, with absolute certainty. "But... yeah. It splashed into my face, so now I'm gonna have to clean it up. But hey! Maybe if I can get this mess sorted, the upper-ups'll be happy enough to give me one of the really *nice* rooms? With my own library and a kitchen!"

Sometimes Magpie is erratic, hard to read or anticipate. Other times, it's clear that despite the ability to turn vampires into weasels and monsters into dust... She has *very* simple needs.

"But hey, if it turns out I need your help -- and let's face it, sooner or later *every* conspiracy needs someone to go where they're not supposed to be, and get things that don't belong to them -- I will *absolutely* call you. Until then, I'll have your belt for you before long, and thanks again for the work, Rune. It's always nice to be able to help, y'know?"

With that, she finishes the rest of her lunch, and tosses coin enough for three meals on the table. "Happy writing!" she says, as she makes her way to the pub's door.