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@daineger @Maithax @X3X

The Reclamation Bureau Field Office was set in a back alleyway of the Shifting Emporium. The dusty canvas tent matched its neighbors in wear and tear, but even so the denizens of the Emporium subconsciously avoided it when they could.

Inside were three desks haphazardly pushed to the edges to make room for the makeshift jail cell. Andy paces back and forth, sending worrying glances to the front of the tent and hoping Cat escaped safely.

The flap bursts open as an imperial strides in, bearing the vibrant skeleton markings of a Reclamation Bureau officer. Over the standard-issue coat, she wears black armor scratched from fights long past.

Following behind was the eager young mirror from earlier, now subdued with nervous looks at the imperial who was clearly his boss.

Without any ceremony, the imperial slams down a sheet of paper in front of Andy. "Where is this artifact?" she demands.

Andy looks at the paper, with a perfect sketch of Artifact 3-12. "I've never seen that before in my life," she lies, keeping the attention on her rather than on the missing Cat. "Unless I saw the paper over at that art supply tent five rows up, but even then I've never seen that drawing before, Captain Serious Face."

The imperial leans in front of her. "I don't think you understand your position here, Andraste. I am Commander Mirshann, and your evasion of the law has been impinging on my honor. Now, you will tell me where this artifact is hidden, otherwise my agents will not be as... gentle with your friend as they were with you. Do we have an understanding here?"

Andy starts to giggle, which morphs into a full on belly laugh. "You, you actually thing you can catch Cat? Wow, I didn't think the Captain– excuse me, Commander of the Rec Bureau was a comedian." She wipes at a tear forming in her eye. She looks at Mirshann with a cruel grin she had learned from a former coworker. "Nobody can even find Cat if she doesn't want to be found, much less catch her. Not even you."

Wow. No thank you. The likelihood of this guy knowing what you need is super low.

That fae probably can't help you at all. You just enjoy your walk through the bazaar. The brightly colored stalls proclaim this as the luxury goods quarter, where finely wrought gold from the Sunbeam Ruins is swapped for intricately detailed textiles from the Windswept Plateau. The traders very carefully never ask how their counterparts acquired such treasures.

You've just turned down an alley when you hear a voice call out, "You with the tattoo! Freeze in the name of the law!"

You whirl around and catch a glimpse of a Reclamation Bureau officer, a mirror with bright red wings and the ubiquitous skeleton markings. You don't have time to see more as you instinctually bolt down the alley and away from the officer.

You hear him swear as he starts to chase you. You zip in and around stalls, knocking over barrels of goods to hold the officer off.

You turn the corner onto a wide open street and skid as you try to avoid a massive hole in the ground. The officer doesn’t notice and barrels right into you, knocking you both into the hole.

You land hard, and as you get to your feet, the stench hits you like a wall. You’ve landed in the old sewers, and it's clear no one has been here in years.

The mirror gets to his feet. He wears armor light enough to move in but heavy enough to take a hit, but at least you don't see any weapons. "My name," he says, "is Taliesin, and I'm taking you in to the Reclamation Bureau. Don't try to run."

A) Fight.
B) Run.

[center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/dressing/outfit/496947][img]https://i.imgur.com/aQV9y2C.png[/img][/url][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/50a4a2c6b077f26a5388cb6e4a14e600/tumblr_inline_o4mb4eBfd61ttfumm_250.png[/img][item=glowing pocket mouse][/center] Lennuh saw this as a way to start paying back the merchants they’d pilfered from. As he started munching on the candied scorpion, his frills gave a slow flap as he relaxed. Jingle scampered over to sniff hopefully for errant crumbs. “Carrok, huh?” Lennuh flicked his frills gratefully and finished the meal before going to check on the dozing Fae. The Light dragon cleared his throat, “excuse me, might you be Carrok?” The Fae didn’t respond. A little louder, he tried again. “Hello?” Hesitantly, he gave the other Fae a nudge. Apparently Carrok was a heavy sleeper. Lennuh looked to where Jingle was, but the pocket mouse was occupied with some interesting smells and was unlikely to help. Lennuh inhaled, and with both arms gave Carrok a push. Nothing. Astounding. The Light Fae wondered if he should find a glass of water to rouse him. Probably not. Getting someone’s clothes wet is a bad first impression. Lennuh decided. He then attempted using his back to push the Fae one way, and then tried a running start at pushing him the other way, narrowly avoiding stepping on his own wig. By that point he was drawing attention again, and swore he heard a snicker or two. Jingle had found some crumbs to munch on while watching. Finally, Lennuh used his feet to grab Carrok by the shoulders and flapped hard. Once. Twice, with a grunt. Thrice and he heard mumbling. Lennuh let go and paused flapping to wonder if Carrok had just woken up, and started fluttering too late to stop himself from falling to the floor. That was a guffaw that time. After all that effort, another favour was asked of him. Lennuh’s mood was souring. It wasn’t even certain that Carrok so much as had heard of Enzul before he told the heavy-sleeper the name. However, in a strange town, the Light dragon didn’t think his chances of finding another potential source of information before a tattoo-hunter found him were particularly appealing. So he took a deep breath, double-checked the directions, comforted himself with remembering the recent meal, and flew back out into the street. Lennuh decided to be pleased about the fact that it was just him and Jingle for the time being. No need to worry about hiding places or possible exit routes, and just enjoy a moment of calm. Naturally, it wasn’t to last. As the tattoo’s pain surged, the Fae’s small body crumpled into a bawl and he gave a shrill cry. As the moment passed, Jingle approached to squeak in concern, but hopped back from the static shock on contact. The Fae groaned, frills limp, and fiddled with his disguise to try cover the growing problem. Somewhat numb, he continued on.

@Siritys @Chessboard @Goldia @HedwigHufflepuff @CharlieWeasleyy @OpalNova @Elsu @Espoir @Scatterspark @SilverQuark @Nialatic @dividedAnimus @GryphonSong @BlackwatchGenji @rubyredtan @Stormdragon @cieldobie @Sidegrinder

The Reclamation Bureau Field Office was set in a back alleyway of the Shifting Emporium. The dusty canvas tent matched its neighbors in wear and tear, but even so the denizens of the Emporium subconsciously avoided it when they could.

Inside were three desks haphazardly pushed to the edges to make room for the makeshift jail cell. Cat paces back and forth, sending worrying glances to the front of the tent and hoping Andy escaped safely.

The flap bursts open as an imperial strides in, bearing the vibrant skeleton markings of a Reclamation Bureau officer. Over the standard-issue coat, she wears black armor scratched from fights long past.

Following behind was the eager young mirror from earlier, now subdued with nervous looks at the imperial who was clearly his boss.

Without any ceremony, the imperial slams down a sheet of paper in front of Cat. "Where is this artifact?" she demands.

Cat looks at the paper, with a perfect sketch of Artifact 3-12. She then glared at the imperial. "Never seen it in my life," she says airily, not even trying to hide the smirk on her face. She wouldn't let them find Andy that easily, and they knew it.

The imperial leans in front of her. "I don't think you understand your position here, Cotriona. I am Commander Mirshann, and your evasion of the law has been impinging on my honor. Now, you will tell me where this artifact is hidden, otherwise my agents will not be as... gentle with your friend as they were with you. Do we have an understanding here?"

Cat's face goes abruptly flat. "The only thing that needs to be understood is that if you value your agents, you will strongly reconsider that order. You may have caught me now, but you will never be able to keep me here." She leans forward, her flat expression peeling back as she bares her fangs. "You are never going to catch her," she hisses.

You grab the mug and take a sip. The smell is odd, but it tastes wonderful, and you chug the whole thing back.

The bartender grins. "Got some blue honey off those bees in the training fields," he said. "Thought it'd make some good mead, and I can tell you liked it. Name's Lectri. Now, who are you lookin' for?"

You explain the little you know about Enzul. He's old. He's a guardian. And he's somewhere in the Shifting Emporium.

The ridgeback hummed. A customer down the bar ordered one of the blue meads, and Lectri took time to think about your question as he served the other dragon.

"Well, you might want to try down in the historic district. I know a couple guys at the scrapyard down there who know absolutely everyone in the Emporium since everyone brings their trash there. See if you can find Sparkplug, she knows where everything is in that dump."

You thank him for the mead and the information, and you head out to find the junkyard.

You were expecting a small, somewhat rundown dump. As you approached the junkyard, your eyes widen at the sheer mountains of trash.

"New to the junkyard, I take it?" a small nocturne asks. She zips around you before deciding to hover in front of you. "I'm Sparkplug, I run this place and sell the parts that are still usable, what's your name and what are you looking for and ooooooooo is that residue from one of Andy's projects?" she says, not taking a single breath between words.

Eventually, you're able to get a word in edgewise. You introduce yourself, explain the unfortunate effects of Andy's flashbang, and say you're looking for an old guardian named Enzul.

Sparkplug fidgets the entire time, and by the end she's visibly vibrating with energy. "Woah that's so cool! I don't know an Enzul per se, but if Andy sent you, I can send you back to her! I always know where she is. If you do me a teensy-weensy favor," she says with a sly smile.

You sigh and ask what the favor is.

"Well, one of my workers misplaced an old piece of machinery that Andy wanted. If you're already heading back to her, would you mind going and finding it for me? Oh, you will? You're a dear," Sparkplug says, not even waiting for your answer.

There are two paths through the junkyard. Well, really only one that goes through it, but there's a clear path on the edge as well.

A) Go through the middle.
B) Go around the edge.

@jbapple @Disillusionist @FawnStars7 @counterfeat @GuardianDragonak @Lonefox

The Reclamation Bureau Field Office was set in a back alleyway of the Shifting Emporium. The dusty canvas tent matched its neighbors in wear and tear, but even so the denizens of the Emporium subconsciously avoided it when they could.

Inside were three desks haphazardly pushed to the edges to make room for the makeshift jail cell. Cat paces back and forth, sending worrying glances to the front of the tent and hoping Andy escaped safely.

The flap bursts open as an imperial strides in, bearing the vibrant skeleton markings of a Reclamation Bureau officer. Over the standard-issue coat, she wears black armor scratched from fights long past.

Following behind was the eager young mirror from earlier, now subdued with nervous looks at the imperial who was clearly his boss.

Without any ceremony, the imperial slams down a sheet of paper in front of Cat. "Where is this artifact?" she demands.

Cat looks at the paper, with a perfect sketch of Artifact 3-12. She then glared at the imperial. "Never seen it in my life," she says airily, not even trying to hide the smirk on her face. She wouldn't let them find Andy that easily, and they knew it.

The imperial leans in front of her. "I don't think you understand your position here, Cotriona. I am Commander Mirshann, and your evasion of the law has been impinging on my honor. Now, you will tell me where this artifact is hidden, otherwise my agents will not be as... gentle with your friend as they were with you. Do we have an understanding here?"

Cat's face goes abruptly flat. "The only thing that needs to be understood is that if you value your agents, you will strongly reconsider that order. You may have caught me now, but you will never be able to keep me here." She leans forward, her flat expression peeling back as she bares her fangs. "You are never going to catch her," she hisses.

You sniff at the odd blue drink in front of you and wrinkle your nose. The likelihood of this guy knowing anything is low at best, so you decide to leave the bar and try to find this Enzul on your own.

The brightly colored stalls proclaim this as the luxury goods quarter, with finely wrought gold from the Sunbeam Ruins is swapped for intricately detailed textiles from the Windswept Plateau. The traders very carefully never ask how their counterparts acquired such treasures.

You've just turned down an alley when you hear a voice call out, "You with the tattoo! Freeze in the name of the law!"

You whirl around and catch a glimpse of a Reclamation Bureau officer, a mirror with bright red wings and the ubiquitous skeleton markings. You don't have time to see more as you instinctually bolt down the alley and away from the officer.

You hear him swear as he starts to chase you. You zip in and around stalls, knocking barrels of goods behind you to hold the officer off.

You turn the corner onto a wide open street and skid as you try to avoid a massive hole in the ground. The officer didn't notice and barreled right into you, knocking you both into the hole.

You land hard, and as you get to your feet, the stench hits you like a wall. You landed in the old sewers beneath the Shifting Emporium, and it's clear no one has been here in years.

The mirror gets to his feet. He wears armor, light enough to move in but heavy enough to take a hit, but at least you don't see any weapons. "My name," he says, "is Taliesin, and I'm taking you in to the Reclamation Bureau. Don't try to run."

A) Fight.
B) Run.

[b]Username:[/b] HedwigHufflepuff [b]User ID:[/b] 338514 [b]Dragon Name:[/b] Thornspell [b]Dragon Picture:[/b] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35557864] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/355579/35557864_350.png[/img] [/url] Thornspell, and her familiar Hedwig [item=Charoite Burrower] [b]Hedwig’s POV[/b] Thornspell was great, and her best friend and all, but [i]boy[/i] could she be stupid at times! Seriously, who drinks blue mead offered to you by strangers while you’re being chased by a creepy dragon who can track heat signatures? Well, at least she seemed to have enjoyed the drink, if the starry-eyed look on her face was any indication. Thornspell quizzed the bartender about the science behind the drink, and Hedwig rolled her eyes, and hooted to say something like— [i]get to the point already do you remember we’re being chased by someone about to kill us?![/i] Finally they got the directions to the junkyard and were off. As Thornspell obliviously wandered through the stalls being distracted by shinies, Hedwig took it upon herself to constantly glance left, right, back and up. (What? Dragons can fly, you know!) She kept herself on her mission to protect Thornspell, willing herself not to be waylaid by the beautifully glittering wares on every single stall they passed. After what seemed like too long, they finally reached the relative safety of the junkyard, only to find out that they needed to find something [i]else[/i] to get a straight answer out of someone. Hedwig was thoroughly sick of it by this point but Thornspell, being the saint that she was, nodded along and set off further into the junkyard. Hedwig sighed and flew forwards towards the middle path. At least that way they should be harder to find.

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34055220] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/340553/34055220_350.png[/img] [/url] Karmanh gets cautiously to his feet. He looks at his new surroundings and smells them before he actually sees them -- it's quite an astonishing pong. [i]"Things can't get any worse,"[/i] he thinks, and then Taliesin introduces himself, and they [i]do[/i]. He manages a sheepish smile. "My name," he says, "is Karmanh, and I'm a tremendous coward. A thousand apologies and good day, sir!" *books it like a [s][i]boss[/i][/s] WUSS*

[b]Username:[/b] Goldia [b]User ID:[/b] 362966 [b]Dragon Name:[/b] Amara [b]Dragon Picture:[/b] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=39473350] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/394734/39473350_350.png[/img] [/url] Whew, yay for friendly barmen and tasty drinks. While Sparkplug seems to be an interesting character, her energy levels are of the sky high levels that end up being exhausting just to be around. Therefore hanging around trying to get more information about Enzul just seems too hard, so Amara decides getting back to Andy seems like a good option...maybe. Either way, straight through the middle is the shortest path outta here, so seems the best option.

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/AxjprJf.png[/img][/center] Hana decided it wasn't a good idea to let all these other people push her around. She was nice enough to play there game but she wasn't a task boy for just anyone! She already [i]had] her task to do which Alstro sent her on. She should really get back to him...

Dawntreader rubbed at the tattoo-covered portion of his chest, still self-conscious after that remark about residue. He sighed and eyed the mountains of items surrounding him. "Isn't this almost how I got into all this trouble to begin with?" he groused, as he finally decided to just cut straight through the middle of everything.

He didn't know that Andraste would be too happy to see him if he returned to her without having found Enzul, but maybe if they weren't in the thick of being chased, she might have better clues. "Who knows, maybe he'll be the dragon holding the totally rare and valuable piece of junk they want me to get. That'd be a nice change in luck..."

Something rattled in the stuff around him, sounding like it came from over his head. Dawntreader hunched, waited to see if the world would come falling down around him, and bit his lip to keep himself mum when it didn't. Speaking of luck, best not to press it.