𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒏 { 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝒐𝒖𝒕 } || open

|| KASKAA  

Kaskaa’s energy deflated as it became clear Arden was just as clueless as they were.

“I thought you’d know where he up and vanished,” stated the apprentice. "You think I'd show up in the middle of town, looking like this—if I weren't looking for the old man?"

Kaskaa’s shoulders sagged. The hope which Arden’s presence had sparked quickly vanished. She glanced over at her sister, hoping Callidora would offer some wisdom. She was always the steady hand to Kaskaa’s tightening fist. The reserved one, the peace bringer. But though she could provide an unwavering calmness, she could not conjure their father out of thin air. They would need a powerful sorcerer for that, and well, the irony of that was not lost on Kaskaa. She resisted the urge to snap at Arden in annoyance.

"We know that he was seen passing through the nearby town, though if you're here then I imagine you probably were already aware of that," offered Calli. "He didn't say anything about it to us."

"Do you at least have clues?" Arden asked. "A note he left? Anyone else who'd know? I'd kinda be out of luck if he's just. Gone." Kaskaa’s green eyes slid over to her sister at the mention of the note. No, he hadn’t left them with any specific instructions. She debated internally whether she should tell Arden about the silver box, the only odd thing they had discovered since her father’s disappearance. A part of her was inclined to tell him everything. The other part warned her not to trust the young sorcerer. He only wants to find him so he can continue his studies. Kaskaa resented the idea that someone could need her father more than she and Callidora did, not as a means to an end, but because they loved him. But the rational part of her knew her father had meant something to Arden too.

“We have nothing to go off of. He just disappeared,” Kaskaa reiterated. She resolved to tell Arden about the box later, once she could trust his intentions. She frowned and propped her chin against her palm to prevent her upper body from collapsing in defeat. She picked at the food that arrived on the arms of the innkeeper. She did feel a bit stronger as soon as the stew began to warm her belly. Her spirits lifted a bit as she looked around the room and remembered the one lead they had: if their father had passed through, then surely someone had seen him.

Kaskaa finished her food then slammed her fork on the table with a sudden burst of resolve. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll split up for the time being and ask around the inn and the town. Maybe if we ask enough people, we can find out what father was doing here before his disappearance. We’ll be quicker if we work alone and we can reconvene later tonight.” Before her sister or Arden could shoot down the plan, Kaskaa scanned the tables around them until she landed on an isolated figure. He was a mysterious looking fellow who sat at the edge of the room. “I’ll start with him,” she stated before marching away.

She could feel the eyes of the other two follow her to the table. She halted when she was a step away from the seated man. She crossed her arms as she looked down at him. “Do you know anything about a sorcerer that passed through here about three months ago?” she asked outright.

|| SABIEN

The strumming of lute strings drew Sabien’s attention away from the gossip. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed the bard before, but musicians had a way of dissolving into the atmosphere. This particular musician was playing alone, and their voice carried over the din of chatter with bright clarity. Sabien continued to mindlessly suck down his charcoal-flavored beverage as he angled in his stool to watch the show. This particular musician had a cloud of light-colored hair which contrasted with their dark skin. They were a striking individual with a mischievous glint in their eye.

“My! Masters of disguise!
Gentlemen of lies!
Don't you know it's do or die?”

Dark lyrics, Sabien thought to himself. But no one else in the inn seemed to be paying them much mind. He narrowed his eyes at the musician as their gazes locked from across the room. There was something almost familiar about them. Perhaps he had heard them perform them at some other inn.

“We will never die!
We are forever!”

The end of the tune elicited a lukewarm reaction. Everyone was too focused on their meals or their conversations to pay the musician much mind. But Sabien clapped his hands together and emitted an encouraging, “Woot!” He smiled knowingly at the musician as if to say, I know what tough crowds are like. It was through that shared look that he finally placed where he had seen them before.

Ah. The answer took embarrassingly long to surface. It had not been the face that he remembered, but the mischievous glint. He should have known from the moment he laid eyes on them. His long-awaited friend had been hiding right under his hawkish nose. As usual.

“Hello luv,” greeted the shapeshifter. “Enjoy the song?” the query was accompanied by a self-satisfied laugh. Sabien had never been so glad to be tricked. He raised his cup in greeting as the two of them took their places at the bar.

"The part about masters of disguise was a bit on the nose, don't you think?" responded Sabien who patted his old friend on the back.

“Good to see you, Sabie. Got anything good for me?” asked the Metamorph, or Shifty, as Sabien knew them. They appeared to him now in a form he had never laid eyes on before. But their energy was the same as it had always been: effervescent and warm.

Sabien smiled from one side of his mouth and shook his head. “Not yet.” He took a mindless sip of his drink before adding, “But the options are promising.” He wheeled around in his stool again so he was facing out, elbows propped against the bar. Then he proceeded to recount his observations to his partner in crime. He pointed at the table in the center of the room with a bony finger. “The girls over there are looking for their lost father. The boy with them might know something, but I think they don’t get along. There was also supposedly a murder in town, a local. And the innkeepers are probably hiding something. Small towns are always a breeding ground for scandal.”

Then he looked over at his companion, reading their expression. Sabien cocked an eyebrow. They had carried out this routine before: meeting up to wreak some havoc for no reason other than for the fun of it. This little hamlet was far from the bustling streets that Sabien often frequented. But surely they would find some lead worth investigating so long as they kept their ears open and their eyes peeled.

|| KASKAA  

Kaskaa's expression sharpened. She hated when other people responded to questions with questions. Why doesn't anyone just say what they mean? she thought, exasperated. Then again, as she stared down at this mysterious man, it occurred to her that he was not the type to give answers freely. She should have guessed that about the person sitting alone at the edge of the room. Nor did he seem the type to draw attention to himself. His beard disguised the lower part of his face, hiding the tilt of his jaw or the set of his mouth. Even the color of his hair was misleading for it was streaked with silver, but she could tell from the smooth skin around his eyes that he was not much older than herself. Speaking of his eyes, they stared straight through her like a hot brand. They were the kind of eyes that said "I know more about you than you knew about me." She instantly resented that about him. When he flipped the conversation to her companions, she did not even give him the courtesy of glancing over her shoulder. Instead, she slid onto the bench across from him and placed her hands flat on the table like she was about to make a business proposal. If he was going to be vague, she would have to start the conversation with honesty.

"We're looking for our father. He's done commissioned work all across the state. I suppose along the way he might have made a few enemies, but he's a good man." She paused. "Or, was a good man. Anyway, he left my sister and me three months ago with no explanation. All we know is that he passed through here before vanishing." Kaskaa spoke the truth, as she tended to do. Perhaps it was foolish to be straightforward with the man, but she was not tactful enough to approach it any other way. Besides, she was impatient to get to the bottom of things. If her father was dead in a ditch somewhere, she wanted to know, even if it would hurt beyond measure. Anyway, as far as she could tell, she would gain nothing from keeping her desires hidden. There were always those who would seek to take advantage of her position. But she would rather deal with them than miss out on the help of those with truly good intentions.

"So tell me what you want," she segued. Her dark brows set over her green eyes, offering the challenge without delay. Surely he was after something, just as she was. If he wasn't, he would have dismissed her the moment she approached his table. Perhaps it was money. She had none to offer other than the few silver coins she had brought for food and lodging. But she would take up begging in the street if she had to pay this man for information.  "I have nothing valuable to offer except my promise to help in whatever you are trying to accomplish."

Kaskaa leaned back against the bench and took a sip from her mug. The atmosphere had momentarily tricked her into thinking it was filled with ale, and she wrinkled her nose at the flavorlessness. Perhaps she would have to take up begging in the streets regardless. They only had enough coin to last a few days. Then she and Callidora would need to find jobs, or maybe happen upon a serendipitous pile of riches. She dismissed the thought. They would cross that bridge when they came to it. For now, she would offer her services to the man with the piercing blue eyes. If that meant juggling for his entertainment, or making a deal with the devil, she was prepared to entertain all possibilities.