Office of Tonan Archeology and Antiquities (open & welcome!)

[Nahala]

She stood outside the building and hung the sign on an ornate hanger. To be true even though the sign was hand-tooled iron, the sign post she'd planted on the road was worth much, much more, but it surely didn't look it. That was the thing about her line of work - one's trash was another's treasure as was said.

Standing back, she turned and walked down the road a bit so that she could walk up on the new sign as it would be seen by someone else. She liked it. Always liked the name of her little business. "Office of" made things sound more official. Didn't think anyone had ever bothered to ask if she was government or guild sponsored somehow so she never bothered to change it.

The first place she bought outright was in Ryada and used as a storehouse for all her goods and things she and the team found on their expeditions. It had always been a dream of her's to finally pass the Eastern Mountains and beyond into Tismad. Problem was, she had a very difficult time recruiting people for such an arduous journey. When she found this place for sale, she knew Silverdell was just where she needed to be. And so much closer to the mountains. She couldn't wait to take her parent's tools into those hills and start excavating.

[Brenigan]

Must have passed this building a half-dozen times in the last few weeks he had spent in town but never took notice.

The sign caught his attention. The closer he got to the door he started feeling funny in the pit of his stomach.

Weird, he should have picked up on the magic around here a long time ago but he didn't. Now he put his hand on the metal push that was fixed over the screen door. It was made of some sort of metal he hadn't seen in a while, if ever. He wondered if that had something to do with him not detecting the magic before.

"The office of antiquities" sounded like a good place to find a partner or someone to hire anyway and he was finished with hunting alone. But no one was inside.

He left a note and small package on the counter inside and left. On down the road to find some food. He looked around once he was back outside. Looked up at the sky to get his bearings again. What time of day was it anyway? Didn't matter much, food was food whether it was time to break the fast of sleep or midday lunch or supper - food was food he just wanted it hot.

As he walked off he started praying, sometimes talking aloud though he hardly noticed anymore. He wondered what the archeologist would make of the two simple rings and arm-band he left at the office. Maybe even figure out how to use the band to find him, then how to use the rings to find .... whatever it was they could.

[Nahala]

She came back a few days later even though she had only left for food supplies to begin with, but that was ohh maybe 3 or 4 days ago? A week? Lost count again. oops. That was one her idiosyncracies. She got distracted, but not the usual "oh I was looking for those keys and got distracted for a moment when I saw this letter instead." Oh, no, no. Her distractions led her into trance like states at night before bed sometimes, and other times just led her down the road as it were. Sometimes for an hour, sometimes days. Very often and very much so.

However the distractions usually proved fortunate. She returned to the shop this time with food and water and juice drinks, a few jewelry trinkets (probably not worth much but an old man asked her to try to locate some matching pairs to surprise a wife of 60-something years so she couldn't refuse, probably wouldn't even charge him in the end, the story was just too sweet) and another map of one of the last known and possibly still usable passes over the Eastern Mountains. That was a great stumbled-upon find. Hopefully the young knight she won the map from in a card game didn't go hire someone else to come take it back. Should probably hide that before sunset today.

The box on the counter fell into sight immediately and cut off her thoughts about the map, in her mind she was kept reminded to hide the map while she started to open the box. An arm band and 2 rings with a note. Recognizing the arm band first her breath caught and she stuffed the note in her shirt pocket, grabbed all three pieces, stepped across to the door, reached outside and turned the sign on the wall by the door to "closed, see you next time!" then kicked the door shut, locking it behind, setting a second and third metal bar similiar to the push on the outside of the door into place across the doorway. Really did not need any hunters coming here looking for a runaway slave, well, if who wore this was still kept by...holy...wow.

Didn't even care about the rings or the note for a moment, didn't recognize the rings quick enough so into her front pants-pocket they went and to the back room she went, attention completely fixed on the band in her hand. Fingers roaming over the name carved in the smooth black surface. The note she'd read later right now she needed to see she was right and for that she needed her parents old dusty sidhe and elemental journals.

She'd come to spend hours looking through the boxes marked with her mother's meticulous labels of plain block script human-speak. The woman had been able to make such beautiful flowing letters in many different languages, a talent that was taught to herself, but for labeling their journal boxes and such, mother kept it simple. And it was just what she thought it was. There in the, 50th box?, 70th-something?...she'd lost count how many by then, she found a journal wrapped in sheepskin and tied up with short palm fronds from the islands. One of the middle pages there it was. Drawn by what she knew to have been her father's hands, she laid the band next to the picture and smiled. Exact copy, my goodness how he could draw, even the inscriptions matched perfectly and he'd made notes in the margin explaining where one would see the slave's "Faithful given name" and there it was on this band. In the old sidhe-speak, letters whose first four were B-R-E-N when translated to the human, she knew that right off, the rest she'd have to look up in another book.

She sat down in the candle lit room among the boxes and things, on a pile of blankets and took out rings, matched to a picture on the next page about how they went together and how to use them to find "a dear desire". All-right then. She settled back against the wall and read the note, then went back to the journal and wanted to read the few passages about the arm bands and the ones who made them, and had the sidhe wear them.

"Wait, damnit, the map first girl!" That was dad's voice in her head. She gave a little laugh out loud and nodded, replying aloud "you're right dad, thanks!" then got up, put the map and other things away, made sure the front door and windows were still locked and barred and back to the note and journals, should have the ring-thing settled shortly. She'd set out in the morning, with any luck this Bren person wouldn't mind a little trip over the pass, it was, afterall where he wanted to go, if he knew it yet or not.

[Brenigan]

A small fruit fly landed on his nose while he slept in a tree within eyesight of the woman's shop.

When would she come out of there? He had heard she could find herself quite distracted at times but this was getting ridiculous. Seemed like he'd been camping out in the tree or thereabouts for weeks - nae - months! (hah) but he could not leave. He had to stay close to the place, close to that damned arm band as well. Damned, indeed!

Finally he decided - it was now or never. The willowy sidhe moved down from his spot in the tree to the ground. Dusted himself off. And walked over to the door.

Still had the "see you later" sign out. Later? No more time for later.

He knocked at the door - rapped a little at first. Then more firmly, right on one of those push rods over the door.

Could may have easily slid the bars open on the other side of the door but he didn't want to play his hand so quickly. Let her find him out, and maybe he'd find more of himself from the ordeal.

He knocked again - very loudly this time and lent his voice to the effort: "Morning?" knockknockknock "Officer-woman?? knockknockbangBANG! You have some property of MINE! Wakey wakey if you please!"

[Brenigan]

Mean while in Silverdell all kinds of things happened and I'm not even sure if this woman has seen the damned map but she had best be giving back the ring and bands at any rate. And any time now in fact.

Wait.

Have we done this before? I know I've been here before, but recently?

Damnation what day is it?

Is this part a daydream? Am I speaking out loud again? Is she watching me again?

As he wandered off but still in-sight of the office, he yelled Her name, but kept all on the in-side, in his mind's eye.

It was a name that at once could roust him to war and soothe him to sleep and the syllables soon became mere audible sounds "annnn geeee leeeeeek" as he mumbled himself to rest and waited on the woman.