Jerrick's face twisted up at the sound of all the burbs in the back of the bar. He didn't want to spend too much time here, but people here might know more about Leremy. The guy had to have said a few things to somebody.

Maverick wrote:"Yeah, I remember that fella. Sorry to hear the old Crei home burned down, that'n's been in Rauru Town 's'far as anyone 'ereabouts can recall. As for mister Leremy, he always was the suspicious type. Came around here a few times a week, had his fill o' cheap grog, didn't say much, 'n left. Whoever was payin' him wasn't payin' him much - I was jes glad someone was buyin' all the crud I couldn't sell."

"I see... Alright, well, thanks for your help! I'm gonna go ask some of the fellas back there, if you don't mind."

Maverick wrote: "None who come 'round here and say absolutely nothin', though. So what'll it be then, pal. Ya gonna buy a drink 'n take a seat or jes stand there all day, huh?"

"No, no thank you. It's way to early in the morning for me..."

He walked around the side of the counter, and walked to the back to speak with the others. When he was sure everyone could hear him, he cleared his throat. "Can anyone tell me anything about Leremy? He's the owner of the house that just burned down. Nobody knows anything about the guy! I'm getting... Curious." He finished, looking around at the crowd for any signs of physical response to his query.

[Awareness Check]

The scribe simply ignored the hostilities the quartet, and even the fifth man poured upon him. He didn't care what they thought of them. They didn't matter. He were the scum of the earth, to just sit there and let the fire consume the house. That's now much they didn't care about his death, and they lived in the same town with him for as long as he'd been there. All because of the suspicions surrounding him, all because of supposition, the man's death was being put by the wayside.

The late teen spoke to the younger youth, at least he had the decency to share some peaceful words with the scribe. "Yes, yes I do believe Mr. Lerimus was murdered. That's the word on the street, and I can see it in everybody's face. The problem is trying to find the killer, it could be any one of these people, anybody in the city, or maybe they're long gone by now." Then the boy pointed out that the others didn't seem to like him. "I don't really care what they think, if they can't give the decency to mourn this man's passing. Even trying to do business right here in front of the burning house, and gossip as well. It's just sick. And besides, I may be a scribe, but I know a thing or two about combat, and I know a more than a thing or two about magic. I can hold my own."

He added as an after thought, "I'm going to go to the local tavern. You seem to have questions too, I don't have a problem if you tag along." Simon then thought to himself, where would many locals go to talk. Autumn Leaf seemed to strike a resonance with him. It had been a fixture in the town as long as he'd been around Rauru Town in the past. He entered the building, and soon saw a familiar face. It was Jerrick. He'd worked with Orpheous when Roronek had that attempted invasion. Simon didn't remember that much about him, but he remembered the face. And, as he walked in when Jerrick was making his call for people to speak up about Lerimus, Simon knew that Jerrick was looking for the same thing the scribe was - answers. He wouldn't approach Jerrick yet, he didn't want to give the warrior false hopes that he was a local with information, nor did he want to confuse a local that Jerrick was getting his question answered by a scribe that had came in to talk with him. No, Simon would stand back from now, but also observed the crowd. Simon looked for behavioral nuances, anything that could suggest that even somebody who didn't come forward might know valuable information about Lerimus.

[Awareness Check - Will 9].

The Goron's eyes dropped to the ground as he processed the information, ignoring the squabble between the baker, the deku, and the idiot. He ruminated for a second, and looked back at the guard.

"Any routines?"

OOC: Fffff I feel terrible about this but I have to go apkljsdoij

The bartender nodded approvingly as Jerrick voiced his disinterest in an early morning indulgence. In his lifetime he had witnessed countless men and women lose their livelihood to problematic habits of overly hedonistic behaviours. “Come back any time, son,” he spoke in his gruff voice as he turned back around to attend to his various chores behind the counter.

The ‘crowd’ that Jerrick addressed could really not be labelled as such. Apart from himself and the barkeep there was no more than four people in the entire establishment. Make that three, as the Goron with the window seat finally got fed up with waiting for whoever was keeping him there and stepped outside.

The two men at the bar were too preoccupied with one another, casting hateful glares and spiteful hand gestures at one another, occasionally being told to knock it off by the barkeep. One man alone piped up at Jerrick’s request. Yes, you guessed it; the haggard-looking, off-putting man at the back of the tavern let out a gigantic belch and waved an arm in the air, beckoning the stranger closer. As he did so another of his empty glasses made the plummet to the ground, smashing in a storm of shattered glass and foam. An audible, angry sigh could be heard from behind the bar counter.

“Aaaw, m’boy, ah know about that feller *hic*, ‘e woz m’best ole pal, c’m’ere young feller, take a seat eh, eh?” The grizzled drunk took a large swig from his glass, but not before almost falling off his stool.

This all went on as Simon was entering the quaint little pub. If the scribe was expecting to find information here, he would not have many people to observe. The place was generally quiet, apart from the one loud customer towards the back. As it was, that particular person seemed to have something of interest to say, as opposed to the two useless people at the bar. Simon may also have noticed that the youth from outside had taken him up on his offer; curiosity was peaking in his young mind and he really had nothing better to do.

Back outside, the guard seemed confused for a moment about just what the Goron was asking. “Routines?” he repeated with a tone of uncertainty. A second or two passed as his blank stare showed signs of wonder. “Oh, routines!” he exclaimed excitedly. “None that I’d really know of. They say he kept himself in there all day, every day. Must have come out for something, though, or else I would think he’d starve. Yep, definitely bought bread from the Baker, probably other goods from merchants passing through... Oh yeah, and the Autumn Leaf, now that was definitely a routine. I’d say he went there twice a week, on... oh... Tuesdays and Saturdays, I reckon. Other than that, well, who knows for sure? I’m just going on what I saw personally and word of mouth of course. Mostly the mouths of those two women over by the wreckage. They’ll say anything about anyone... Oh, have I stooped to their level by saying that? Don’t say anything!”

Jerrick cursed his luck. Of course it would be the haggard looking sack'o shit. He grimaced before making his way closer to the foul smelling drunk. He wasn't sure if there was any credibility to the man, especially in his drunken stupor. The least he could do is listen though- who knows, the man might have some real knowledge about the situation after all. Jerrick reluctantly took a seat, and scooted back just a little bit. "So you know Leremy? You say he was your best pal, but according to anyone and everyone, he didn't have any friends in Rauru. What did he tell you that he didn't tell anyone else?"

OOC: Omg Blank, seriously XDD
I don't know whether I should hate you, or love you for this.

The haggard fellow thrust his face closer to Jerrick’s, partially so that he would not fall backwards again, but also in part so that they would not be overheard. His sense of vocal volume was way off on this morning, however, and he ended up speaking more loudly than before. “Y’know, people think ah’m jessa mizzuber ole drunk but I use’ta be pretty cool, jes like ole Dublin, y’see?”

A few spackles of brew and stench-laden saliva glittered on Jerrick’s face, and it doesn’t take a man of sobriety to understand how they got there. As if noticing his rudeness, the dirty man sat back a little and wiped his lips off with the sleeve of his bright green-and-purple overcoat, which was surprisingly clean. “Mah’pologies to yeh, sire,” he spoke in his half-conscious dialect. He rummaged in his beard and found a piece of cheese no bigger than a thumbnail, and took one satisfied glance at it before popping it in his mouth and chewing noisily on it. It clung to his dirtied teeth, a fact that Jerrick would know by watching the big, dumb grin plastered on his big, dumb face.

“Y’see,” he continued, “’e were a bad man, that Ler’mus, but e’ was still. My. Pal. I got a wayyy o’ rubbin’ off some o’ this here charm o’ mine on people, ‘n would ya believe ‘e axially tol’ me what ‘e was doin’ in Rauru Town fer all these years *hic*” The man went quiet for a moment. A disturbing sound came from his gut; it was like the sound of a dieing animal trying to escape from a burlap sack.

“DRINK!” he suddenly shouted, and his face went angry and convulsed a bit. “Fetch me a drink, boy, ‘n ole Ben ‘ere’ll tell ya what yer wantin’ ta hear.”

Jerrick grimaced as the man spat all over his face. "Hueh-!!!" He felt like heaving right there on the table, and felt the vomit welling up in his throat. He carefully dabbed the man's saliva off of his face- he didn't want to wipe it off in fear of smearing it.

“Y’see, ’e were a bad man, that Ler’mus, but e’ was still. My. Pal. I got a wayyy o’ rubbin’ off some o’ this here charm o’ mine on people, ‘n would ya believe ‘e axially tol’ me what ‘e was doin’ in Rauru Town fer all these years *hic*”

Oh great. He really doesn't know anything at all does he? For a moment, the fighter considered throwing up all over the man, and running out of the bar. Away from this whole thing- it really didn't concern him in any way. Then a noise came from the man's stomach. It was a sickening sound that made the thought of throwing up all the bread he'd consumed seem more prevalent.

“DRINK!”

He screamed, looking pretty angry. Jerrick stood up, knocking his chair over as he did so. Balled up his fist, ready to punch the drunk right in the kisser. Nobody made demands like that without getting a knuckle sandwich.

“Fetch me a drink, boy, ‘n ole Ben ‘ere’ll tell ya what yer wantin’ ta hear.”

Jerrick figured now more than ever that he was being scammed by a drunk who wanted a free drink. He wiped his face with his hand, and simply shook his head. "You're bat-shit insane, and I'm done here. You're not getting any money out of me, and I'm really starting to doubt just about everything you're telling me." With that said, Jerrick left the bar. He pushed the doors open, and allowed the sweet air to hit his face. It was hot inside that bar- nasty and musty.

It was nice to be back outside under the clear blue sky. He was frustrated with his luck in solving this case, he walked over to a nearby pond, and knelt down next to it. He dipped his hands in, and washed his face free of grime. He couldn't have himself smelling terrible in front of all the ladies now. He let himself fall backwards into the grass, and stared up at the sky.

"I guess I'll never know who Lerimus was... Or what happened to him. I'll be damned if I'm scammed by some stinkin' drunk over something that ain't even my business... I still really wanted to know..." He said to the sky, watching it appreciatively.

“Want to know what really happened to Lerimus Dublin?”

The voice came from behind him. If Jerrick were to turn his resting head, he would have caught a glimpse of the intrusive stranger who had arrived so abruptly – almost as though the blond-haired ladies’ man were being followed.

“My apologies, good sir,” came a half-sincere voice from a frail, wrinkled face. A short, white-haired elder had snuck up on Jerrick while he was enjoying a relaxing moment to himself at the pond’s edge. The old man wore a white jerkin and brown leggings, and he leaned peculiarly on a rather intricate carved cane.

“You look like someone who could be quite useful to someone like me, friend,” he spoke with a smile that only partially masked his deceptive tone of voice. “I could not help but see you leave that tavern in a huff, and when you mentioned that name I knew I may have found just the person for the job. You see, I’d like you to do me a favour, and of course there will be a fair reward. I’m talking, of course, about Rupees - and some information to soothe your insatiable curiosity. Would you like to hear what I propose, young man?”

Jerrick's eyes drifted upward, as a voice caught his attention. He viewed the man upside down for a few moments before sitting up in a cross legged position and turned himself around to face him.

“You look like someone who could be quite useful to someone like me, friend. I could not help but see you leave that tavern in a huff, and when you mentioned that name I knew I may have found just the person for the job. You see, I’d like you to do me a favour, and of course there will be a fair reward. I’m talking, of course, about Rupees - and some information to soothe your insatiable curiosity. Would you like to hear what I propose, young man?”

"Lerimus Dublin eh? It's a miracle you found me- I could use some extra rupees. I think we might be able to help each other out." Jerrick said as he stood up, dusting his pants of the dirt they'd collected in the grass. "My name is Jerrick, nice to meet you. I'm all ears, Mr... ?" He led off on that sentence, implying that he'd like a name from his possible employer.

"Terrian. My name is Terrian." As if gripped by a small amount of fear, the elder glanced nervously behind his back to be sure they were not being listened in on. "Now, please do an old man a favour and never tell anyone. You look like a good man, Jerrick. I daresay it is a stretch trying to find young, able-bodied help, because what I am about to propose may not be something 'good men' agree upon."

With his cane he pointed in the direction of the Autumn Leaf Tavern. "There is a man in that tavern you were just at. He calls himself 'Ben,' but you must not be fooled! That bloated oaf has something I want. He is an unreasonable, calculating person who I fear is a danger to himself and those around him. You and I will be apprehending this fellow this evening, if you choose to follow along."

Quite unsure of his potential employee's views on the good and the bad in Hyrule, the man known to Jerrick as Terrian knew he needed to elaborate a bit more. "A young fellow like yourself must be able to infer that by apprehend I am essentially saying that we, you and I, are going to kidnap the bastard. I would do it myself, for he is such a seemingly incapable person, but I have become aware of a strange strength which he possesses despite his... inebriation. This is where you come in. I need you to help me knock the bugger out and carry him to the remains of the burning cabin over there. We can tie him up and I can take it from there."

A little brown bag appeared in his free hand. The delightful clinking sound of Rupees rubbing against Rupees in confinement reached Jerrick's ears. "Ten Rupees, but each of them purple. A young fellow like you must be able to infer that this amounts to five hundred Rupees. So, what do you say, Jerrick? Do we have a deal?"

The Rupee wallet disappeared into Terrian's pocket, and a hand outstretched to meet the fighter half-way.
______________________
I was this close to having him call himself "Mr. T"

Jerrick listened carefully to each word spoken, and he was drawing the conclusion that Terrian was after the drunk who'd tried to scam him earlier. "Really? Him?" Jerrick asked in reference to the drunk being smarter than he appeared.

"Ten Rupees, but each of them purple. A young fellow like you must be able to infer that this amounts to five hundred Rupees. So, what do you say, Jerrick? Do we have a deal?"

Jerrick's eyes turned towards the ground as he thought on the issue. What Terrian planned to do with the drunken idiot was of no concern to him... At least that's what he wanted to say. He didn't like the idea of knocking out someone he didn't know... Finally, his gaze turned towards the pub, and his bit his lip. 500 rupees was a lot. A lot. He could even make investments while living more comfortably than he was now. A lowly street urchin all his life, the fighter really did want something better for himself.

He stared at the pub for several more seconds before heaving a heavy sigh. "Alright. I'll do it. But only because I've been wanting to give somebody a knuckle sandwich all day, and the town could do without a bum scamming people for money. I'm in!" He nodded affirmatively, punching his open palm with his fist. "Let's do this." He would follow Terrian's lead whenever he was ready to make the move. "But I'd better see those rupees later." He added, being more careful than ever about being scammed.

OOC: It's a good thing you didn't call him Mr.T, or I would have read everything in MR.T's voice XD