@Ercassie
Aderic Androllius
Ric couldn't quite find any response to what Sorrela had to say about him feeling like a prisoner. To try and explain himself anymore, it would just seem like he was trying to argue. And that wasn't his intention. Even though he could point out that it wasn't just a weariness of having his freedom that bothered him, he said nothing. He didn't think many people could understand, and he didn't feel like trying to explain. And he didn't feel like mentioning that the captain had threatened him with the dungeon if he tried to leave town. And yes, he was unaware of what had been happening... that was why he was trying to find out what he had missed in his absence. And, while he understood that the guards had their orders and that they couldn't just answer all his questions, it was frustrating. It was a little too similar to what he'd been dealing with the last few months. But at least Sorrela was talking to him. Answering some of his questions, telling him a few things that she could.
He also noticed the way she spoke about everyone being glad when the new captain took over, and how much better things were getting. Maybe that meant there was hope. He'd only had one interaction with the guy, but it had not seemed to go well, in his opinion. But he knew she was right about the people who might hold a grudge against him, for what Mar had done. He dropped his gaze as she spoke about how he was here for his protection, and to protect them from doing anything they'd regret. With a small, wry smile, he thought of the fact that Mar had claimed he was keeping him locked up 'for his own protection'. "Right. I understand." He answered softly.
He was relieved, however, that she did answer him regarding the journal. Found it? He frowned in puzzlement at that, but continued to listen to what she had to say. He wanted to ask where it was found, but.. he thought better about it. "I did not leave it for you." He assured her quietly, still quite puzzled by that. But he was quite willing to believe her. He wanted to believe that. But he also wanted to ask where it had been found, since she did not say. But... he also guessed that she didn't say, because maybe she wasn't supposed to say. He gave a little nod to show he understood why she had read it. He took a moment, trying to think, before offering up a little explanation. "I was here when it was stolen." He informed her, frowning. "In the file room," he added, with a nod upward. Then he hesitated, before adding, "Do you recall, when you came in to conduct the interview for Ms. Ishen, how you had been up late the night before searching for that missing report from Ms. Dringolben?" He asked, more rhetorically than anything. "And.. I told you that if I had known, I could have told you it wasn't there.. or something along those lines." He cleared his throat quietly. Almost a bit nervous that she wouldn't believe what he was going to tell her, he hesitated, but then continued. "I knew that, because several files went missing, back in April." He explained. "I reported the files being missing, of course, but later, I couldn't find any record of that." He found that troubling, too.
"I still don't know how it happened." He looked up again. "I was in the file room, trying to make sense of a number of forms and reports that were in my handwriting, that I'm sure I didn't write," he sighed. Because yes, he knew how that had happened. "If.. if you read my journal, then you'll know what I was writing about when it ended," He added quietly. Recalling that he'd been in the middle of a sentence, he thought she might appreciate an explanation. "Someone came into the lobby, hollering about a murder happening. I rushed down to hear what happened, and.. as it turned out, I was the highest ranking person there." He almost cringed at that. He hadn't even been on duty at the time, but he didn't mention that. "So, I went to have a look at the crime scene, and when I got back, not only was my journal gone, but all the files that I'd had on the desk. After that, I searched through all the files that were in the room, comparing what I found with the logbook, and found a few others missing, as well." He did not mention how many hours he had spend in that search, but she could probably guess. "I... well, I assumed that Mar had something to do with it, but I don't really know." He admitted, sighing. And they still did not know. That was the frustrating thing. Even worse, he didn't even know if all those files went missing at the same time, or if they'd gone missing little by little over time.
It was somewhat reassuring to hear that there were more people now trying to solve this whole thing. Because he had found it nearly impossible, by himself. He didn't know how to go about it, on his own. He'd always felt sort of overwhelmed and lost in it all. And he'd always felt as if he were completely alone in it, without anyone to ask for help, because who would even believe him? People would have laughed at his story, or called him a liar. So, hearing that it was a major priority now... yes, he was relieved. It was no longer on his shoulders to solve it.
Her offer surprised him. Something to write on. Yes, that would be very good. He nodded. "Yes, please. Thank you." He was aware, too, that she wouldn't be allowed to simply sleep, given the fact she was on guard duty. And he didn't think he could sleep even if she wasn't there. So yes, he would very much appreciate something to do. "I understand," He added, regarding her not being supposed to talk about it. "But I do appreciate you talking with me as much as you have." He sincerely meant that, even if she might not realize how much he really appreciated her talking with him for a while. It helped him to not mind too much when she became absorbed in her book, and all conversation ceased for the remainder of the night.
The hours passed, and Ric kept himself busy by writing, only taking breaks now and then to walk around and stretch his legs, and to rest his hand, before returning to his seat. And then, after a knock, the door opened. And his old furbuddy came pushing his way in to greet Ric. A little smile broke upon his face in spite of his tiredness as he put down the quill. "*Nârdagnir," He murmured softly, reaching down to let the cat sniff his hand before petting him. That was the name Ric had always called him by, and he did not know what the captain now called the feline.
Ric looked up as Farion spoke, explaining that he should now come to the captain's office. And, to his surprise, that breakfast would be provided! Ric blinked in surprise at that. "Thank you." He replied to the young man. He glanced at his writings, seeing that the ink was dry, then stacked the papers and left them. He wasn't too worried about anyone trying to read it, for it was in shorthand, and he doubted there were many people around here who knew how to read that. Even if they did, it wasn't like it was anything private.
He followed Farion, with the cat close at their heels. He darted in ahead of the men and jumped up onto the desk, once it was clear that they were heading to the captain's office, as if Farion was holding the door for him, not for Ric. Ric couldn't help but smile faintly at that, but he looked solemn again as he entered the office. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, and he was a bit anxious about it. As he was bidden to take a seat, Ric hesitated before doing so. Hearing that the basket, which was currently being inspected by the curious cat, was actually for him, Ric gave a slow nod. "Thank you, sir." He responded, reaching to take it from the desk before the cat found a way to get at the food.
Soup, bread, and coffee. An interesting breakfast, but he didn't mind. Ric was glad for a good bowl of hot soup, and if he was correct, he recognized the place it had come from. He picked up the bowl and looked up. "Has anything been given to lord Ver-" He started to ask out of habit, before remembering that he did not need to ask that, anymore. "Nevermind." He mumbled, trying not to feel embarrassed. As instructed, he started on his meal, listening while the captain began to talk, but then the cat began meowing, protesting because he smelled food. And he did not have any!
Trying not to look amused, Ric broke off a small piece of his bread and offered it to him, which fortunately kept him quiet for a little bit. Ric wasn't sure whether he was supposed to answer about whether he rested well, but.. well, he hadn't. He hadn't rested at all, in fact, but he didn't think it needed to be said. He ate his soup and bread, sipped the coffee, and listened without a word while the man spoke. When his soup was down to just a few more spoonfuls at the bottom of the bowl, Ric set it down on the floor, and donated another small piece of bread to the cat as well. The coffee he did not donate, since he didn't think coffee was a good thing to give a cat, but also because he didn't really think a cat would like it much. He slowly sipped on that throughout his meal and after, while he grew thoughtful about this new choice being given to him. Meanwhile, the rest of his soup was polished off, the bowl licked clean, and then the cat rubbed on his ankles for a bit before deciding to climb into the basket, which Ric had left the covering off of. Apparently, it looked like a cozy hiding place for a cat.
Ric folded both his hands around the mug of coffee, his gaze focused on his drink, while his mind focused on the man's words. "I understand," He answered quietly, in answer to that, at least. It wasn't difficult to understand; he could either stay here in the city, under guard, or.. leave and never return. Essentially, it sounded as if he would be banned from returning. The irony almost made him laugh. So many times over the years, he had asked to be transferred. He'd wanted to leave this city. To be sent to Pelargir, or Linhir, or somewhere that he could try and find some clue about his friend's disappearance. He'd wanted to work anywhere
but in the city where everyone hated him. Now that people were finally starting to believe him, and now that he knew that Reilly was dead and there was no point in searching for him anymore... now he had the choice to leave. Ironic.
For a long moment after Ostoher had finished, Ric sat staring thoughtfully into his coffee. Then as the man asked if he wouldn't like something stronger, Ric blinked and looked up, and followed his gaze toward the liquor cabinet. Ric quietly shook his head. "No.. thank you, sir. I don't drink," He explained quietly. He cleared his throat, and sat up slightly more. "I.. I really don't know how to answer that just yet, sir. But if I may ask a question..." He hesitated. "I have been wondering about it all night." He almost felt awkward to even ask, but it was bothering him. "Do I.. still have a job? I mean.. I resigned as
lieutenant, but not from the guards. But then.. with everything going on, and all that's happened, I would understand if I am no longer a guard. But I haven't really heard anything to confirm whether I have been..discharged, or not." He explained uncomfortably. It had been bothering him for a lot longer than 'all night', but rather all the last few months it had been a thought that kept returning to him, and he felt like maybe it should be addressed before he could properly make a choice, right?
*(
Sindarin; means 'rat/mouse slayer')