Based on what I've been told of the group known as the SIU, it seems that holding one's head out of exasperation is an ordinary occurence. Good to see thay my supposition was correct, not that it's any consolation to the man.
Duke Nicholas Desmir, Lord Protector of the prestigious trading city of Veil, is clutching at the little hair he still has left while he looks over the documents set in front of him. Well, not all of them. My personnel file is surely amazing him with my own long list of achievements and ambitions, even if some of them are considered a bit ambiguous in their relation to the law. It has to the be the arson report and its perpetrators sitting on the couch across from him that has his mind aflutter with concerns.
The tiny angel sitting between her companions shares the Duke's mindset, at least. Though it's hard to see all of their face behind the makeshift veil of silver hair, her hunched-over body language speaks to the kind heart beating inside their chest, and is likely just here by association. I can't imagine that the timid Emy I've read so much about could possibly have been involved in an arson. Not willingly, at least, which does appear to be the case. Odd that I've not even been accepted into the SIU yet, and my first unofficial job has been to compile an analysis of my three soon-to-be comrades.
Maybe odd is not the right term to use when my gaze slips onto the figure to Emy's left, one arm draped over the angel's shoulders. The infamous Hexbell warlock is sitting without a care in the world, overly endowed body on full lurid display. Beside the couch rests her titular staff, the long pale wood topped with a golden bell that occasionally chimes of its own accord without the faintest breeze in the room. Of course, it's easy to fall prey to her unassuming look if you didn't take a look of your own at those pitch-black eyes, holes into the dark depths of her soul, or the easy smile that says she's not worried in the slightest about sitting in front of the most politcally powerful man in this part of the world. If I had to wager a guess, Samantha Cress didn't start the fire, but certainly aided it in growing to consume any of the evidence they might have left behind. Evidence of what, though, I have no idea and don't care to assume. Some things are best left alone when it comes to this group.
Which means the arsonist, without a doubt, must be the devil known as Nuril; not her real name, not anymore than her codename of "Hot Pink," but it's enough to know her by her actions. A condescending schemer with a mind that puts any snake to shame in her shamelessness, it would be exactly her style to cause an issue on their most recent investigation and then burn everything down when she got bored. Or just because it was easier than cleaning up after herself. She's reclining on her portion of the couch as if it were a throne to her majesty, golden rings and silver chains glittering in the firelight of our Duke's room. She hasn't even looked at Nicholas since entering the room, those blazing red eyes locked on me, sizing up her newest prey.
I'm not stupid enough to try and return that gaze. Instead, standing behind Duke Nicholas, I fake a cough and ask, "Excuse me, Duke, but given the lack of any hard evidence linking these three to the crime scene, it would be best to use their skills on the other issues we have at hand, yes?"
Dark-skinned hands run down his face as Nicholas lets out a deep sigh. "Right, right. No use in crying over a burnt-out section of our fair city because our most talented investigators were too busy using said talent to commit crimes of their own. So, to the point. Say hello to the newest member of the Sorcerous Investigations Unit. ${my name}, I'm sure you know of them already, but allow me to introduce Samantha Cress, Emy, and-"
"I can introduce myself, mortal. You stand in the presence of Infernal Lady Nuril, when the common courtesy is to kneel before your betters," the devil declares, one claw resting on her small breasts, the other fanning out her brightly-coloured hair in an honestly beautiful display.
Just not beautiful enough for me to bow to her. "A pleasure. My name is ${my name}, and I will be working alongside all of you for the foreseeable future. I've compiled my own personnel file if you wish to review it," I reply with the slightest inclination of my head towards the trio.
Emy gives me a hesitant smile, but with Nuril silently seething beside her at my brushing her off, the angel doesn't speak up quite yet. Samantha takes her arm back from around Emy to reach out and take my file, though I don't know how those inscrutable holes in place of her eyes can see anything. Magic, I suppose, which is a bit redundant to expect from a warlock. "Oho, well this is a bit of a surprise. ${my crime/reason for joining}. Not the most orthodox of actions, but I suppose if you were the ordinary sort, you'd have never shown up to join our group. Well, if Duke Nicholas says you'll be of value, I don't intend on arguing."
First hurdle down. I turn towards the Duke who, having taken a deep drink of the rum bottle beside him, pulls out the other issue at hand. "Given that we have a new member of the Sorcerous Investigation Unit and a city full of problems, I'll have you all sort out what to tackle at the moment. You've got three jobs lined up, so read them yourselves. I have actual work to do." He pauses to give me a slight nod before striding off without a word.
The second the door closes behind him, Nuril naturally takes the intiative again. "Bah, why do we need another mortal? With my host of natural talents, skills, and divine charisma, there's no need for anyone else to slow me down more than these two already do."
Samantha waves a hand at the devil before saying, "Oh, yes, speaking of that matter, Nuril. How many successful investigations have you been a part of lately?"
The silence that fills the room speaks for itself, and I take the chance to flip through the aid requests in front of us:
A man named Carver is asking for help investigating the recent "ghost sightings" at the town cemetary. We're supposed to meet him at the Undertaker's abode on top of Gravemound.
Owyn Artois, one of the city nobles, has requested that we search for his sister Zenovia, who went missing a little less than a week ago. His mundane investigations turned up nothing, and he seems convinced that Zenovia's disappearance is tied to some local cult that no one else believes in. His house isn't too far from the Duke's abode, so I'm assuming this Owyn must be important.
And finally, Baron Jerome Orol is demanding assistance uncovering the mystery behind a string of murders at Tah'lok Hall, the city's historical preservation effort. Apparently other cities have started these things called "museums," which inspired old man Orol to build Tah'lok Hall in the first place. We can report to the guard captain in charge there, Loric Sol, to start our investigation.
By the time I finish reading up on the jobs, I notice that all three of my new peers are staring at me. I seem to have missed whatever they were talking about, which probably wasn't important in the first place. "Alright, I have some experience at this job, but not nearly as much as you three. Where do you suggest we start?" I ask into the awkward silence.
Nuril shakes her head in disgust while Samantha giggles, leaving Emy to finally speak up in her melodic voice. "Um, well, we haven't been successful ourselves as of late, so maybe you should decide what fits you best?" she asks without making eye contact. Do I really look that scary or something?
The other two don't offer anything else in terms of suggestions, which means they also don't care that much or else this is a test they've put together to see what I'm capable of; either way, there's no reason to hesitate. One of the reports stood out to me already, so my mind is already decided. My voice echoes around the small room as I reply,