In the small village of Rauru on the fringes of the Deku Thicket, rightfully named for the density of that dark woodland, there was a small log house that belonged to a quiet fellow named Leremy. Leremy is what you and I might call the suspicious type. The only thing the residents of Rauru Town know is that “he’s from some far-off country where he was important, currently has his body in Hyrule, and has his head in some unknown country you and I have never even imagined.” This was testimony from an old man in Rauru at the time. Look around you, there are these old men everywhere, and they have a lot to tell you.

Now here’s the thing. You do not see this small log house as you’re entering Rauru this day. There is a smoldering pile of burning pieces of log house, which is something you’ve certainly not seen in the place of that particular house before. Now, whatever your reasons for coming to town today are, no one is judging you, but you should know that the Showroom burned down last week. There seems to be a lot of burning buildings in Rauru all throughout the year. It’s like a weather condition to these vigilant people. Oh, you came to town to shop at the Golden Quiver, eh? Don’t lie to me, no one shops there anymore. They haven’t had a new product in years.

Anyway, no one suspects you as the murderer of Leremy, is what I was getting at. Although now it seems a bit more suspicious you’re here. Anyway, a safe distance from the crackling and burning home there is a line of four or five people. You are unable to tell, as the fifth individual is robed up completely, minding his own business, and just watching the fire. Two others are bickering and arguing between themselves about petty things. It can be assumed that the two females are just going about life; perhaps this spot a relatively safe distance from the fire is their usual stand-and-gossip spot. Another man wearing all white with a dirty apron and a funny flat hat stands watching the fire as well. This man is the Baker, and he’s an almost equally suspicious character as Leremy, except he’s been living there longer and everyone trusts his fine, delicious bread. The fifth person is actually a Deku Scrub merchant from the woods. As you notice these people, the scrub launches a nut from its mouth into its hands and tries to sell it to the Baker, who clearly is not interested and ignores the poor business scrub. Apart from these five people, the rest of Rauru’s population is unconcerned. They go on with their daily business and life returns to normal.

You may also notice another adventurer, perhaps not so different from you or I, is approaching the scene curiously. The youth stops short of the blackrobed figure and steps back a bit, and then pretends to watch the fire as he listens in on the gossipy pair. A town guard rushes past you and starts questioning all sorts of civilians who simply grunt at him and pass him by. The outraged guard paces furiously contemplating how to get in control of the situation... not that the fire is out of control or the village in a panic.

A man strolls around the block with a loaf of bread under his arm. His long blonde hair stretched wildly down the length of his back, and stopped just short of his waist line. It was glowing so bright in the sun that it commanded attention from all around. He had a face without imperfections, which made him rather popular with the ladies. To seal the deal, his eyes were bright blue and full of vitality. He was shirtless, and wore a pair of dirty pants that tucked into ankle tape around his shins. His torso was a road-map of scars, each with its own unique and interesting story. He was walking barefoot merrily down the street as he munched on his bread. He also donned arm and wrist tape, which wrapped partially around his hands and knuckles as well. He looked like the old image of a hero, except unbelievably poor. When he went to take a bite of the bread, his mouth revealed perfect teeth as well. He looked to be in his mid- to late twenties. A fine age for a warrior, if he happened to be one.

As he rounded the corner and wealth of women followed not to far behind, spying on him from afar. He stopped when he saw the smoldering wreckage, and glanced in the direction of the gathering crowd. He ripped off another piece of bread from the load under his arm, and crammed it in his mouth before crossing the street to find out what happened. He bypassed the guard and walked right into the crowd of people. "What happened here? A piece of bread to the first one to tell me!" He smiled, obviously a curious gent.

OOC: Good to see you again Blank.

OOC: It's good to be back-ish

At the mention of bread, some hungry looking children start to rush over towards the unfamiliar face. Kids are kids; the very sight of long blond hair reminds them of the hero Link whom they have all heard so much about. To them, the guy seem trustworthy just by that association. The youngest, a small boy no taller than the average man's lower body, comes strutting towards the inquiring man, seeking his bread.

The crowd near the burning home does not seem to pay the man any attention, save for one. The Baker casts a glare in the direction of the one who offers bread. It is not usually wise to trade bread for information when there is a man in town trying to sell like products for Rupees. The white-clothed civil servant decides to ignore the newcomer, seeing that he is as poor as the children and carries just one loaf.

The youngest child pulls aggressively at the man's clothing. A long line of dribble leaked from his mouth, down his chin to form a messy pool on his shirt. Smiling as most young children do (in that cute, I'm-missing-some-teeth style), the boy starts to tell what he knows. "Him Lenny, he nev' talks to no one 'round Rawroo town. Him house burn down 'n him prolly dead-dead-dead!"

An older boy gives him a quick shove, warning him to watch his language, or mother will do something-or-other that will probably end with crying. The young boy wants to seem grown up - having the tear factor enter the equation would be debilitating to his ego. "Is true!" he argues. "Lenny no seen, house make fire, guards all confoozed, me think he dead. I have bread now?"

Maverick wrote:"Him Lenny, he nev' talks to no one 'round Rawroo town. Him house burn down 'n him prolly dead-dead-dead! Is true! Lenny no seen, house make fire, guards all confoozed, me think he dead. I have bread now?"

Jerrick stared at the boy for several seconds before muttering, "Sure... Here, have a piece..." He ripped a piece of the bread off and handed it to the child before looking around in a very concerned manner. If there was a school nearby, everyone inside would get a knuckle sandwich for this kid's grammar. As far as speaking went, the kid would be on par with the local cave-men, but with the help of context clues, the message was at least received. "Lenny huh? Alright, I guess I'll do some more looking around." He walked towards the group of people, but they all seemed to ignore him. He asked around, but nobody was interested in him at all. "Dammit... Somebody... Hey!" Finally he stared at the ground for several seconds, rage building within him. His eyes shot up, blazing with intensity as he shouted loudly.

"SOMEBODY BETTER EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT HELL IS GOING ON HERE, OR YOU'RE ALL GONNA GET A KNUCKLE-SANDWICH!"

He suddenly realized that there were in fact guards around, and he couldn't really give them a knuckle-sandwich. But by golly, someone deserved a knuckle-sandwich, and unless he was informed right now, it was gonna happen. He wasn't playing games here- this could be really serious news, and he always liked being one of the first to know when anything happened.

OOC: That kid though, seriously, Blank. Also is this topic going to be stats or RP? As soon as Tayro knows, he'll post (he's got a character for each).

A large figure ambled through the town, a large mace dangling loosely from a cord on his right wrist. He had a peculiar gait; each step began with what seemed like a long stride becoming of his Goron stature, but stopped short. Before anyone would notice this strange limp, however, they were bound to ogle the large lump on his back which appeared to be half a small boulder melded into his skin.

Somber eyes meandered back and forth across Rauru's streets, checking each face and storefront. All was as he remembered it. There was no real purpose to his walk today. The woods had been unappealing, and he hadn't seen the Deku in days. He had tired of waiting, tired of sleeping, and tired of thinking. So here he was. Though, now that he was in the town itself, he began to wonder why he came. He had stopped at the Golden Quiver for some supplies--supplies which he didn't really need. It wasn't as though he had found any answer to his lonely query, nor was he likely to find one in--

His eyes ceased their scanning and flickered over to his left. The firey log cabin hadn't registered as part of Rauru's landscape in his mind. Shifting his direction, he made his way to the burning building slowly, eyes taking in whatever information he could gather from sight alone. Upon arriving, he stood by the inferno silently, casting his eyes about. [Awareness Check if applicable]

OOC: I love you.

OOC: I’ve been using present tense but keep forgetting that while writing, so past tense it is! Hrm, let’s call it free RP. Try to be creative with what you say and where you look for getting information.

The little boy chewed his morsel of bread delightedly, teasing his friends with the fact that he had earned something good and they had not. As the man who only slightly elicited the familiarity of the Hero raised his voice and started to swear, the children turned and fled. The remains of the bread were trampled in the street by busy merchants and civilians. The guard nearby, however, still ignored the man whose presence had been made known.

The gossipy couple were not prepared to ignore him a second time. The pair shifted towards Jerrick, a mixed pot of emotion and reaction. The first woman, known around town as Blondy, wore a mask of terrific rage, and not in the metaphorical sense of the word. No, this woman, her silky brown hair becoming statically charged with anger, was generally pissed. “How dare you!” she bellowed. “Scaring off innocent children with bread and yelling and ... and ... well ...” Her voice trailed off. She was becoming intimidated by the man now. Her counterpart, known locally as Betsy, was of a more charming nature.

“Oh sir, what is this sandwich you speak of? I see you carry only bread, and how does one go about harvesting meat from the knuckle? I’m afraid the details are too few for me to commit to such a delicacy, good sir."

A real pair of half-wits, these two.

Blondy, the mean but timid woman spoke up again. She rolled her eyes at her friend’s mistake but said nothing – this said a lot about the nature of their relationship. “What’s it matter to you, eh? You’d be hard pressed to find anyone who can tell you anything about that. Man named Leremy lived there. Although you didn’t ‘ere it from me, his actual name is Lerimus, and he’s been squatting in that cabin for years now, not saying a word to anyone except for the guards and maybe a few others.”

Betsy, the kind but imbecilic woman spoke up again. “I think his home burned down, though I don’t suppose it was ever his house to begin with. A real shame. He was a handsome fellow, though a bit on the larger side.”

The gossips had no time to even think about passing judgement on the Goron who strolled into town as they were telling Jerrick what they knew. Of course, he wouldn’t have ever known, given the nature of their judgements. The house he had his eyes set on was not a great piece of real estate anymore. As he stepped closer the burning roof collapsed and crashed into the main level of the abode. Thick brown wood was quickly being reduced to weak, black ash. The door to the cabin was open, but the flames licking the entrance gave the impression that entry was prohibited.

Unfortunately, the house was plain, on fire, and inaccessible. No one seemed to be worried about the inferno, though, as the cabin was in its own little spot away from other buildings. And since only a few people seemed to be investigating, it stands to reason that what the women said about the cabin dweller’s reclusiveness was entirely true.

Jerrick nodded at the women. So his name is Leremy, or more properly Lerumus. It wasn't lenny at all... He'd have to remember to come back here when that kid was older and give him a knuckle sandwich. He smiled and continued on his way, putting a piece of bread in his mouth as he went. So he never talked to anyone huh? Well, that probably meant he had problems. A hermit of sorts. Hmm... Well, I happen to know where men pour out their problems whether they know it or not. He rounded the corner, keeping his eyes peeled for a pub or a tavern.

[Awareness Check]

OOC: Do you need Jerrick's stats? I'm not sure if this is entirely RP, or just fights.

The Goron took a sharp step backwards; he had been surprised by the roof's collapse. He should have known it was inevitable, but...anyway.

His eyes dropped from the door to the ground beneath it, examining the entrance closely. He pondered whether or not there would be any significant footprints, markings, or dropped items of sorts that may give him a lead of some sort or other.

Well, at least he had found something to do today.

A tavern is precisely what Jerrick came face to face with as he turned that corner. The place had this feel to it, sending out a vibe of times long forgotten. The sign read "Autumn Leaf Tavern" and not a lot was known about the establishment. An adventurer named Cloud could tell you the most about it. Despite occasional shortages of Romani Milk, the place had been a staple on Rauru business for quite a while.

At this point, the time of day became increasingly relevant. As the sun had only just emerged from the horizon and was making its way upwards, it was clear that the Autumn Leaf tavern would not be a particularly lively place to be just yet. However, one thing is certain about taverns - those who spend all their time there, even during the slow day, probably know quite a bit about the town.

Over by the house, the Goron found mostly broken glass, charred lumber, and irritating smoke, the likes of which could really give your eyes and nose a beating if you were to stand too close. The lack of evidence around the house suggested that he had arrived too late, or that there really was nothing of interest outside of the burning cabin. The cause of the fire remained unknown for the time being.

OOC: Free RP, so in the event of a scuffle it's fighting sans-stats... stupid laptop, this post was a lot better when I had it written up the other day

As he walked, he passed many interesting things that he'd rather have stopped at, one which was the school house he'd been looking for. But they'd just have to get their knuckle sandwiches later. He passed a bakery, which was kicking off a good enough aroma to bring back for bread (he was nearly out). He stopped and looked up at the sign of the oddly placed building directly in front him.

Autumn Leaf Tavern? Perfect. He thought as he pushed the door open. He stepped inside and looked around for the barkeep. If there was one man who listened to more problems than anyone, it'd be him. He walked up the counter and pounded on it. "Hello? Barkeep?" He called out.

OOC: I can't think of more to say without God-modding XD

"Hrm."

The Goron's eyes drifted away from the door. He was wasting his time at the building itself. Whatever hope there may have been for evidence was, if not destroyed, severely discourage when the roof collapsed. Regrettably, he was going to have to communicate. His eyes picked out the guard; he seemed less obnoxious than the others. His eyebrows dropping and head lifting, he spoke in a low, rumbly voice.

"What happened?"

OOC: Sorry to join so late. Also, nice to have you back, Blank.

IC: Simon Grendel was strolling about Rauru Town. Today was just like any other day for him. Then he happened upon the space where he knew a log house once stood. And now, here, in this place, stood the smoldering remains of a log house. This resonated a chord with the scribe. He knew of the outbreaks of fires in the Rauru area, arson being the scribe's leading theory. It was a shame to think all these fires could just happen, and it be considered normal. If Simon didn't know any better, he'd think every last citizen in the town a suspect in a conspiracy to burn down anything deemed unsightly be the city council. The thought alone that the town wasn't even investigating this, or didn't take those investigating this seriously, i.e. the guard, infuriated the young scholar.

He also knew of the suspicious character of Lerimus. Logic dictated by the local word going about that he was some kind of delegate. And yet these stuck up civilians of Rauru Town thought he was a mere squatter. Simon actually began to cry, fortunately still out of the eye sight of the others, or he hoped. Finally, he regained his composure to look over those standing around the house. None of them even appeared to be grieving. He walked up, and realized that he wasn't going to get any news from the guard, as he was too self-absorbed. The gossipy pair could only deal in rumors, and the Baker and the merchant Deku appeared to be just a useless. Yet one figure, in robes, stood close to the flame, a young adventure stood by him. Sure, Simon was wearing his cloak, but the weather and the state of fire seemed to be a heavy turn off for the urge to wear heavy dark clothing. And wasn't black the universal color of mourning.

First, the scribe rushed the four outsiders . "You should all be ashamed of yourself," he commented. "A man died here. He was murdered, and none of you can take a moment to remember his life in reverence. You people sicken me." Then he walked aside to the man with the black robes and the young adventurer. He waited a moment, taking the time to gaze at the flames with them, trying to relate to them, and feel as they felt.

"Excuse me, but do either one of you know the exact details of what occurred. I gather there was a fire, arson might have been involved, that took Lerimus' life. I guess what I'm asking is do either one of you know when this fire may have started? Did either one of you know Lerimus? Where was he from? What was his business here in Hyrule? And did he have any enemies, anyone who would have wanted him dead?"

OOC: Sorry to ask so many questions, but he is an inquisitive scribe.

Yeesh, extremely overdue on this for how much momentum HA seems to have gained. My apologies, big time.
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The sounds of children singing the Hyrulean equivalent of the alphabet, albeit quite out of order and with several characters omitted could be heard from the schoolhouse as Jerrick passed. The evidence was piling up with all indications that the education system in this small city was failing, but that is another issue for another adventure. The doors of the Autumn Leaf swung open easily and the man was greeted by the homely smile of an ugly bartender. At the main bar, most stools were empty. Only two seats were occupied – one at either end of the bar, with both men casting suspicious glares at one another every ten seconds or so. Throughout the tavern there was not a word being spoken. Near the front window a Goron sat sulking at a table set for one. At the back of the bar was a shady character, a bearded human with a tabletop covered in empty pint glasses and foam. His beard was covered in old food and he was a grizzled sight for any eyes. The bartender grunted at Jerrick as if to say “What’ll it be?” Apart from all this, it seemed like the tavern was in fine form and well-kempt.

Outside, the guard stopped his pacing as a Goron approached. He smiled a friendly one; Gorons were his favourite. The smile drooped when the nature of the approach became clear. “Oh, you want to know about that, huh...” His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the scribe wandering closer to the scene of the disaster. He grabbed the Goron’s shoulder suddenly and drew him close. “I don’t know, man! I don’t know!” he squeaked, quite unbecoming of one with his authority. “Look, there was a guy staying there named Leremy, but he never talked to anyone as far as any of us guards know, and now this is all happening, and on my shift!” The guard seemed visibly shaken now that he was being questioned. “I’ve never seen anything like this, oooh, what am I supposed to do? I... I...”

It donned on him that the stranger could not help him. He took a deep breath. “Look, sorry, it’s just that this is all going to look terribly awful on me and I don’t even know the guy or how his house could have burned down and maybe it was hit by lightning or maybe it’s murder or maybe he has a huge insurance claim or wait what’s insurance what am I saying...” He took another deep breath, several actually. His face was burning hotter than the cabin itself.

Over by the fire, the four who had been chastised by Simon were taken completely by surprise. The scribe had appeared from nowhere; no one, not even the travelling Deku salesman, could say they knew who he was, and yet there he was, pointing the finger of accusation. The Deku started to huff and puff noticeably as the more impatient of that culture tend to when presented with an irritating situation. He spit a large nut at the scribe’s feet, a look of pure disgust on his face, and started to walk towards him. A restraining hand caught hold of his leafy bush of a hairpiece, the strong hand of the Baker. The women were whispering this and that about “How dare he” and “Oh, I never” and that sort of reaction, instantly passing judgement that this fellow was out of line. The Baker, a towering, muscular man, was about to speak for the entire quartet of onlookers, but he let the scribe go on to speak with the other two. His arms folded and although silent, he did not appear to be amused.

The man dressed all in black did not spare any of his energy on Simon, except for his initial strain of listening to the questions and the end strain of throwing out his response.

“Get lost.”

The adventurer standing beside the robed man cast a look of distaste at the rude fellow before stepping away and standing closer to Simon. Here was a warmer youth, no older than fourteen. His eyes made it clear that he knew very little concerning what had transpired in the night. “I only just arrived here myself, sir. Do you really think Mr. Lerimus was... murdered?” The word escaped his lips with a high-pitched tone of disbelief and shock. He had not witnessed such things in his lifetime, even in his short time adventuring. He glanced behind him at the other four, all of whom were staring the pair down. “I don’t think those people want to be your friend, sir,” was the hoarse and worried observation from the youth.

By this point, the guard had completely stopped talking to his new Goron friend and was watching Simon and the civilians. He whispered to the stranger, “Oh, how I wish I weren’t the only guard on this morning... I think there might be a brawl over there soon... That fella just rubbed the Baker and that mean Deku the wrong way.”
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Well, this turned out long...

A scary tune seemed to start playing inside the brawler's head, as he looked around at all the hideously disfigured residence. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out- only a weak sounding squeak. He looked like a total wimp. A pretty-boy even. Compared to these rough looking people, he felt completely out of place. He'd never been conscious of his flowing golden locks before, but now he realized how out of place he was.

"Uhh... I..." He gulped, and gathered himself. "My name is Jerrick. I'm actually wondering if you knew a man named Lerimus. His house caught fire, and I'm looking around for any information. I know people spill their guts at the bar- and apparently he never talked to anyone else. Know anything about his 'murder'?"

A loud hiccup followed by an even louder series of belches echoed from the back of the bar across the entire room, causing the lone Goron to look up in disgust. The grizzled drunk knocked a glass off of his table - it smashed on the floor but the bartender paid him little notice. He tolerated the horrid man's severe imperfections because the wealth of Rupees being wasted on a daily basis was a great source of revenue for the tavern.

The tough middle-aged barkeep returned his eyes to the blond-haired Jerrick, sizing him up and trying to decide what sort of a man he was. He seemed a bit clean for the morning drinking type. He decided to play the information game, speaking in a deep, gruff voice. "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."

The bartender stopped talking and turned away to clean a dirtied glass. He whistled a funny tune as he worked and turned back to face Jerrick as he dried the cup with a questionable rag. "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?"