Lt. Carpel sat in her small office that she shared with three others. Papers were limited, thankfully, but the office was cramped with extra chests. No other chairs besides the one for the small desk was in the room so all others had to stand. The door was left open, per usual, with the bulky Maelstrom overcoat hanging on it. The roe flipped through a clipboard making marks on it.
Jancis knocked on the doorway, looking in. She was in her cherries (as Alveo put the name for the uniform) and held her cover.
"Enter."
The medic turned back to pick up the painting, wrapped in fresh paper, and came in the office.
"A little late getting that back to me, Milburga, I had to call for another hold on the shipment and send on a notice to the receiver. Where's Camp?" the lieutenant's voice was stern and obviously displeased.
"Forgive me, Lady, he was called to the North on urgent matters. Alas, I have few details beyond a wyvern attack and-" Jancis was interrupted.
"He failed to inform you that by the Maelstrom having to send on notice gives Laun a huge advantage to know we are looking into his goods. He's going to be ready when we show up at his door. Last time I give Camp anything in good faith; have any idea what a lead we had? Give me some good news. Give me a name of who this belongs to." Carpel leaned back in her chair staring Jancis right in the eye, "Tell me this person has claimed them stolen."
"Ah, forgiv-"
"Don't give me that. I don't want your frill. Yes or no you have a name."
"I have no-"
"Yes or no."
"No."
The lieutenant tossed her clipboard on the desk, freeing her hands to pinch the skin between her eyes. Jancis stood there with an empathic look and Carpel, once looking up, eased up. "I want you to tell me, in as few words as possible, why."
So Jancis stood there and obediantly explained: the likeness in the painting, the charm from the bracelet, the design on the plates, everything she was familiar with. She explained how she had spent the days pondering the possibility of the connection and the ramifications it posed to her present life.
She had taken the counsel of Sir Iono which in his mind felt the need to find closure; his family was intact and his past of great value to him so that was the obvious answer he would afford.
Sir Filangieri, whom Carpel never heard of, offered a different opinion; he got pent up on the assumption that Camp had stolen the painting. Yet overall with all of his advice and replies the clear answer was the past was just that, past. The loss of his family (and their seedy dealings that the then young knight was excluded from) made it more apparent that the future was more important than digging through the trash of other failures. He did offer to take the painting to have it appraised by the artists and merchants of Ul'dah, hoping to find the painter and
In either case, both were too busy with their own problems to come with Jancis here.
"So you held off because you didn't want to come here alone." Carpel summarized.
Jancis knocked on the doorway, looking in. She was in her cherries (as Alveo put the name for the uniform) and held her cover.
"Enter."
The medic turned back to pick up the painting, wrapped in fresh paper, and came in the office.
"A little late getting that back to me, Milburga, I had to call for another hold on the shipment and send on a notice to the receiver. Where's Camp?" the lieutenant's voice was stern and obviously displeased.
"Forgive me, Lady, he was called to the North on urgent matters. Alas, I have few details beyond a wyvern attack and-" Jancis was interrupted.
"He failed to inform you that by the Maelstrom having to send on notice gives Laun a huge advantage to know we are looking into his goods. He's going to be ready when we show up at his door. Last time I give Camp anything in good faith; have any idea what a lead we had? Give me some good news. Give me a name of who this belongs to." Carpel leaned back in her chair staring Jancis right in the eye, "Tell me this person has claimed them stolen."
"Ah, forgiv-"
"Don't give me that. I don't want your frill. Yes or no you have a name."
"I have no-"
"Yes or no."
"No."
The lieutenant tossed her clipboard on the desk, freeing her hands to pinch the skin between her eyes. Jancis stood there with an empathic look and Carpel, once looking up, eased up. "I want you to tell me, in as few words as possible, why."
So Jancis stood there and obediantly explained: the likeness in the painting, the charm from the bracelet, the design on the plates, everything she was familiar with. She explained how she had spent the days pondering the possibility of the connection and the ramifications it posed to her present life.
She had taken the counsel of Sir Iono which in his mind felt the need to find closure; his family was intact and his past of great value to him so that was the obvious answer he would afford.
Sir Filangieri, whom Carpel never heard of, offered a different opinion; he got pent up on the assumption that Camp had stolen the painting. Yet overall with all of his advice and replies the clear answer was the past was just that, past. The loss of his family (and their seedy dealings that the then young knight was excluded from) made it more apparent that the future was more important than digging through the trash of other failures. He did offer to take the painting to have it appraised by the artists and merchants of Ul'dah, hoping to find the painter and
In either case, both were too busy with their own problems to come with Jancis here.
"So you held off because you didn't want to come here alone." Carpel summarized.
![[Image: hpThOka.png]](http://i.imgur.com/hpThOka.png)
