NPCs for The Officers Academy

She turns a bit more serious then.

Forest. Town. Doctor. As he speaks, those are the extent of her mental notes. Carina didn't spare much deeper thought towards any of these things, past the general notion of checking them out. Sepp might not have had all the answers they needed, but this was a solid start.

"Sick? I'm, uh, feeling okay right now. But Doctor Moray, right? That's good to know in case anything changes. Thanks."

She glances at Seliph then, wondering if he had anything else on his mind. There wasn't much else Carina could think of.

Not to forget, the local doctor — this Doctor Moray — may be able to help identify the bone.

"Carina," he turns to face his companion. "I think it's about time we head back out. We still have places to see."

A glance at the door, then back at her. It is a silent nudge to step out of Sepp's earshot and go over what they learned.

"Yeah, sounds good." He nods. "And uh..."

He starts to apologize for starting off on the wrong foot but one glance to Carina reminds him that the bull had just come in judging him and everything else. So he bites holds his tongue. Starting off on the wrong foot wasn't his fault, no matter how drunk he'd been that morning.

"the people..." Lene trailed off, she cant help but to agree. Something about them really rubs her off in the weird way.

Though while they waited, Lene caught the stench of blood nearby- It wasnt strong at first, but It was enough to cause Lene to turn around. Her eyes widened- she quickly tried to hide her expression as she spoke loud enough just for the other two to hear her. ".... I think that's him." She spoke slowly, and once she got a clear look at him- she couldn't stop herself.

"It's… fine," he answers, confirming himself in a roundabout way as Basil. "But I'm assuming if you know who I am, my father told you to wait for me."

A pause, seemingly considering his words, before he attempts to draw himself up a bit straighter, even as the effort makes him wince a bit against his wounds. If he had something to say about the topic of his father, he doesn't bring it up in his next breath, instead opting for a warning:

   Then his eyes meet those of Griss, who gazes upon them with judgment. Chrom can’t help but let out an awkward laugh, unable to give a proper answer. “Don’t worry…”

   Rather than continuing to waste more time, confident that Joachim is okay (and that they’re not both thoroughly humiliated), Chrom takes off – sprinting past Griss and towards where he can only presume the stranger to be. 

And with that, she gets away, fleeing into the night, rushing past the sharehouse and sneaking out of the port, her silhouette melting into the darkness of the night.

Sometime after, Lawrence emerges from the sharehouse, evidently roused from sleep, carrying a swinging lantern in his hand. He brings you all in a circle, raising his eyebrows at the new arrival in your quartet, but doesn't make any comment beyond a confused, 'Hm?' followed by a grunt and a nod— acceptance or a greeting perhaps.

"Heard the tail end of things when I woke up. ...Sounds like someone hungry came by?" he asks. Though his tone is casual, his brows furrow in his worry and he releases a sigh. "Worried that might be the case. Don't blame them though... Not with the way the land's been going south... Plenty of hungry people all over... Haven't had a good meal in ages."

He shakes his head.

"Likely won't be the last of them... Not 'til we get things shipped to the mayor."

He looks out in the distance, but neither the thief nor the mayor are in sight—only these four with him and the last few hours before sunlight.

He watches a linen soak under the water and then schools his expression into something less melancholy.

Not to mention the vision he’d witnessed prior to arriving… He supposes it’s going to be another one of those missions the more they look into the matter.

Especially when another priest appears and the ensuing conversation between him and Sister Antoinette reveals information of interest, even if aborted due to their guests’ presences. Kris files it away for later as he hauls a bag of fertilizer closer to the plants, stripping off his gloves and stowing them in the satchel at his hip before starting to work the stuff into the soil. “If the decline has been taking place over the span of years, surely someone has to have determined the cause by now? It seems unnatural to me that the vegetation could just die out like this…”

they watch her carefully as they speak, their voice raised for professor azama's and kris' benefit. “as long as that role isn't filled, the island isn't the perfect paradise your people were promised, right?”

though their sentence is posed like a question, it's clear that linhardt has already decided which answer is correct, and so they continue as though they hadn't asked a thing.

“if this festival is meant to serve as the ceremony that crowns the next in line, then are we here merely so your mayor has pretense to ask for the resources to make it as grandiose as possible? i believe that's where i'm at. i wanted to ask if your current head priest, or whoever it is, is slated to be your next disciple. and if - well…"

Like the man's just stepped in something unpleasant, albeit otherwise mildly inconvenient. It's more than enough to ruffle Azama's feathers, but he behaves. Doesn't even give an indignant snort about it.

He almost breaks, though, at the mention of 'having faith' as any kind of tangible solution. Almost.

He sets both buckets of water down. Watering can prime time begins... now! Huzzah!

…

Yeah, Azama's stalling a bit for sure, watering pail held in hand where he stands. What's all this about a disciple now? He dares not distance himself overmuch, lest he miss something juicy.

"The Herald of Spring Festival is to celebrate the coming of spring. Though it would be much more joyous an occasion if the earth was as prosperous as it once was," she corrects Linhardt. "The Disciple, if we had one, would be confirmed at Disciple Commencement Day. But we at present have none, no matter what people around this island may have you believe."

She moves down the line of planted seeds even as she speaks.

"Your presence here is as much a boon as is it an oddity. You bring with you the most food many of us have seen in ages, but it is because most of our food goes to you in the first place," she expresses her opinion. "You bring with you relief for our people but many questions too. Why now? Why give up the charade of our circumstances when we have long kept it? What is it Callaghan is thinking?"

She spares a glance towards Kris as she answers him, "Our church's greenhouse was established when the first poor harvests occurred. We made it to use our gifts of the Goddess's powers to produce extra food, so as to help in times of need. We are, first and foremost, a group for community service. So if Garreg Mach's food is enough to cover for the festival, whatever we can grow ought to go to other districts in need beyond the festival.

Remembering that he also was supposed to be doing chores, he picked up another dirty item to scrub before chipping in. "Perhaps we can help out with cooking and such whether Holly and Basil are here or not. I'm a fair hunter myself"

The amusement makes Agatha seem full of life as she continues.

She moves out of the way of the little girl with the flower pot without a fuss. She also knows quite a lot about being a young girl who just wants some attention and to be taken seriously. She's pretty glad when the girl's plea is heard and her eyes widen when the plant bursts forth with life.

"Whoa that was totally sigma! I've never seen a spell like that." Fódlan magic is still so perplexing. The lack of tomes and staves is so unusual especially for someone coming from a city and a family that boasts quite a lot of unusual staves. Does it just work with flowers? She's got more questions but the crowd seems restless and for once she can hold a little self restraint.

Boy, wherever Tina’s from they certainly got a unique way of talking, huh?

Whatever it means, he does feel the same awe when the flower springs back to life. Magic really is amazing.. if only he could actually develop a knack for it. But that’s not important right now. He can always lament later, as right now Tina proceeded to put the proverbial spotlight back on him.

“Yes!” He squeaks out. “I was wondering if I could help with distributing the supplies? I imagine it would be easier with two people doing it.. if that’s alright with you.”

Hunger is not an unfamiliar feeling to Ashe, nor is poverty. Back during those days, most of the food he managed to pilfer here and there went to his siblings, giving himself only the bare minimum.

And speaking of that: Ashe now takes his attention. He smiles and his dark eyes glimmer.

She has to keep herself from pressing any further. Carina wasn't sure about showing Sepp the bone. It might stir up a level of worry they didn't need spreading throughout the populace. But a medical professional could probably identify what type it was... or wasn't.

The marketplace is another area she keeps in mind, finding much more interest in this missing girl. "Oh... haha! Well, we just got here, so we wouldn't know." She awkwardly tries to ease his concern.

"Things are just, REALLY quiet around here? And it's silly, but I can get kiiiinda superstitious. Just feeling on edge, I guess. Case of the spooks." She reaches over to clap Seliph on the shoulder, a silent request to play along. "And this guy's been humoring me. Real sweetheart, isn't he?"

She smiles, sheepishly. "So I sure hope this girl decided to pack up and leave. Did she, uh, take any of her belongings with her, or...?"

A girl went missing in the woods, and an apothecary has yet to return?

As for the beggar... Seliph doesn't know what to make of that; it sounds like a desperate man fighting to survive. He supposes it won't hurt to keep him in mind, either.

"Or rather, has anyone checked her home since it sounds like she kept to herself?" He follows Carina's line of questioning. If no one noticed for a while, she probably had no family in town either. "If that's the case, it wouldn't be surprising if no one noticed her quietly leaving one day."

It would be far better than the horrifying alternative.

"Couldn't tell ya," he answers, and nods toward his window facing northward. "Not in the habit of wandering the forest myself. Someone closer to town might have more information though. But folks up and leaving without saying a word isn't all that uncommon around here these days."

“They have the festival every year, supposedly,” they offer. Their gaze never turns toward their companions, instead occupied by flitting over the darkness for any sign of movement. “This one’s meant to be bigger than all the rest, though. Mayor’s kid’s sixteenth birthday and all. Haven’t heard a word of them inviting folks from the monastery before this.”

They note the name, Beatrice—someone they both know, they assume, from the man’s lack of elaboration. Another person who has changed recently, though... They’ve heard the notion several times already just today. How many does it take for it to graduate from coincidence to concerning? “I’m beginning to think the people are what’s strange here.”

When he makes it to there in the end, arm's length away from the closest of the trio, he stops, eyeing you all with either suspicion or wariness as he trudges.

“Maybe something’s wrong.” He admits, opening the window. He places a small candle on the windowsill, and lights it. “But throwing furniture around isn’t going to help. Oh-” He turns back. “Roy, could you shut the door?” He didn’t want the scent spreading to the entire boarding house.

Hopeful the candle will take effect sooner rather than later, Forde picks up the chair and places it beside her. “Let’s just slow down for a moment. My name is Forde, how about you?” 

Not that Roy's complaining. It's a prickly situation even still.

At Forde's behest, he does turn to shut the door behind him, though. The scent of the candle begins to waft through the room, and Roy begins to relax, whether he wants to or not. It's a nostalgic smell, dispelling any anxieties he brought with him to the room. A reminder of the airy classroom of Pherae Castle, languidly but studiously sitting in with Lilina and Cecilia...

Forde seems to be on top of things for the moment, too. He's assertive and kind, despite his apparent lack of urgency. He would make a reliable ally, Roy can't help but think-- but, well, those conversation are better saved for more serious situations.

The woman's anguish is concerning, far more concerning than her foreboding words. He knows he can't help the world, the higher the power, so much as he can help each person; so, he focuses on what he can do rather than what he can't.

With a deep breath, she shuts her eyes, folds one arm across her middle, and rubs her forehead.

"Sorry you have to see me like this," she says after a moment. "I'm not ordinarily so..." She unfolds both arms to make two fists, then releases them to grasp at the air as if for the word she's looking for. Instead, she relinquishes it a frustrated growl, and then marches over to the bed where she sinks down onto the bedside.

Carina sighs, arms still crossed, the frown never leaving her face even as she turns her gaze back on Sepp. "You just don't want to let go of your home. That's a good thing. Not everyone gets to do that—sometimes you don't get a choice in being pushed out."

Her words held a weight she had no intention of elaborating on. And there wasn't much Carina could offer in the way of solutions; though she doubts Sepp would be amenable to anything she had to say even if she did. So she leaves it at that, moving on to the topic they'd come here for in the first place.

"Other than the land and seas dying, has there been anything else strange going on?" She glances at Seliph, thinking of that weird bone again. Of the dreams. "Changes in the wildlife, or... people. Anyone acting weird, or going missing, maybe...?"

"Or any rumors going around?" Seliph adds. An affirmative response may lend credence to a potential death taking place. Showing the bone itself would be the most straightforward route. The only problem with that? They don't know how Sepp would react to seeing it.

Or could there be a subtle way to bring it up?

"I'm sorry, that must sound strange to you." With a small, awkward laugh, the young lord touches the back of his head. That's how he imagines he would have felt in the other man's shoes. "But please bear with us for a moment. We have our reasons for asking."

"Actually, I did hear that no one's seen the apothecary for a day or two now. Thought he'd be back by the time you all showed up, but I went knocking on his door this morning for something to fix this headache." He shrugs. "No dice."

As if remembering that he still has a headache, he grimaces and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"My buddies also say there's been someone begging pretty relentlessly in the marketplace lately. We've all got it bad these days, but that guy's totally killing himself in front of everyone. Oh!"

The tail that had begun to wag halts.

To Sepp, he offers a sympathetic upturn of his mouth.

To Carina, his eyes silently plead for her not to antagonize Sepp any further if she can help it. A bridge can still be mended.

"Much like the people of Baile, I do think many people would have tried if they were in the same position."

However, even the very best of efforts may go to waste. Judging by what Sepp told them, everything in Baile has been in steady decline for some years.

"How have people managed to get by without fresh crops or fish to eat? Was it imports or–?"

But it's the timely intervention of Seliph that stops her, and though Carina very much wanted to punch something, she refrains and takes a breath. It was important that she stay in control and not give into her worst vices. Not with that harrowing vision looming over their heads, or with beasts like Skoll around...

Staying calm would be so much easier if Alberta or Prince Kurt were here.

The knight crosses her arms, tail swishing irritably as she swallows her words and listens to the rest of the conversation with a frown.

"Are you?" he snaps, but Seliph is quick to distract them. Sepp shoots him a look with the indignant fury that had been intended for Carina, but it dissolves when met with sympathy.

"Yeah," he answers. "There's still that part in my head that says things will get better if I just stick it out. Cut back fishing here, try to make money somewhere else for a little bit, and let the sea repopulate." A pointed look to Carina. "I'm not just sitting on my hands 'cause I want to. But the thing is..."

"Has something happened? My apologies," he starts cautiously. Roy knits his eyebrows. "Dying? This island? Why is that?"

“Not enjoying the festival?” He asks with a wry grin, studying her expression. “I’ll admit it isn’t the island holiday I’d been hoping for, but it’s not that bad.” She could just be a haughty guest not getting the luxury she wanted. He doesn’t think she is, but it’s possible.

"I suppose you wouldn't know," she resigns to answer Roy first, and then throws a glance toward Forde before retreating into her room again. She leaves the door open but doesn't offer a verbal invitation.

Her room is a sizeable suite with huge bay windows overlooking the river toward the heart of town. It's well furnished, with a four-poster queen-sized against one wall, a beautiful mahogany desk, and other cherished furniture of polished wood. More than likely, this is Ms. Maeve's room when the house is not full, but has been given to this "important guest" precisely for her reputation. Despite the banging from earlier, the room is only overturned, nothing broken. She kicks one of the chairs out of the way with enough force to send it crashing into the wall, and then resumes her pacing in the middle of the room.

"The festival's all wrong. The town's all wrong," she says, burying her face in her hands. She's still wearing her riding attire, and a meager pack sits on the bed alongside a sword in its scabbard.

“I guess it depends how many are taking part” he muses. “ no need for a grand affair if it’s just Agatha and the siblings celebrating. Or maybe there is more grandiose in the main town or similar”

The limited knowledge he did have of the island made him curious what the other districts were like. The woods appeared similar to ones back in Fodlan. Not particularly useful for cultivating rare crops.

Deep in the woods, they are far removed from the imagined excitement of what the center of the town must be like at the moment. Maybe the mayor had sent his daughter off with the intention of keeping her busy while he works on getting her gift ready. His own parents had done that to him a few times when he was younger. Of course, he had been much younger than Holly when they had stopped intentionally sending him out to play, trusting him instead to wait patiently.

...All that being said, Holly herself seemed content enough spending the time leading up to her birthday doing chores. Maybe he can consider it an early gift to her that she doesn't have to get her fingers all pruny.

Agatha comes up from behind the two, leaning on her cane as she watches them do their work.

"Holly and Basil often go for rabbits when they get me food. Holly's not much of a huntress, so she has to make Basil do that work, but she always insists on following him, so he makes sure they don't go for something big so as not to get her in danger.