Recuperating (Open)

It was a slow day at the guild hall today... Though that may have been because it was so dreary and gray outside. Jeremy could feel the impending storm that was to come… Could feel it in his bones, the powerful rumble of thunder in the distance. He never liked weather like that, his favorite being the sunny days that reveal themselves just after a light shower. Weather like this was menacing to be out in, and in these cold winter months, seemed to carry a gloom on things.

Good thing they were nice and warm inside the guild quarters. Though to be fair, it had more to do with his current condition then the droll atmosphere outside. Jeremy was still healing from that last battle and getting the rest he needed to be on his own two feet once again. The delivery of the oran berry was a success, but the male snivy was exhausted and beaten up from the experience.

His leafy tail was wrapped in gauze and bandages, with several of the wrappings covering the impact wounds and deep scrapes along his chest and torso. When Jeremy had first walked into the guild hall, most of the guild leaders and some of the other members were horrified at his condition.

And why wouldn't they be? A seemingly simple search and delivery mission went awry in the worst possible ways imaginable. That was why he was here… His report and statement for the police to look over.

They were attacked by a trio of bandits, some of the most bloodthirsty and murderous Pokemon Jeremy had encountered yet. Their intent was not only to rob, but to kill. The trio as comprised of a pair of patrats, and their leader a butterfree. The worst part was that they were never officially taken in… They were out there somewhere unnervingly close to Grassveil, hidden in the depths of Pecha Forest.

Jeremy had already written everything about the patrat, and he was currently writing everything he knew about the butterfree. It was a face that was difficult to forget. A perversion of the usual creature of grace and beauty, this particular butterfree was a scarred veteran and cunning killer. He remembered how it mocked, outmaneuvered, and viciously beat down all attempts at overcoming it… Jeremy was no fool. Were it not for Kuro's type advantage, Jeremy's risky plan, and some luck, they probably would not have walked away from that encounter alive. Jeremy dabbed the quill he had in his grasp into the small ink well before going into the details of the encounter, the scars that would identify the bandit leader, and the 3 techniques Jeremy knew he possessed… Such information will be important not only for the police, but for the more experienced exploration teams when this bounty notice was to be posted. Faye offered to do the paperwork after seeing the condition the snivy was in, but he firmly denied the offer. He would do this himself.

Of course, he wasn't alone in this. Kuro had been there too, and Jeremy had to get some info from her relating to what happened after he passed out. She was the one who landed the finishing blow on the butterfree and got them to safety… Speaking of Kuro, the female sneasel had walked out just a while ago for reasons Jeremy could not fathom. Possibly to get something to eat. Jeremy had a light lunch himself earlier.

He paused from his paperwork when he heard a light rap at the door. Strange… Kuro would have just barged in, seeing as this was their room and she was likely to do that anyway. So it must have been someone else.

Come to think of it, Jeremy did recently post a sign. It advertised Team Magna, and how they were accepting new members (written in his excellent penmanship of course). Even if the 'daring duo' were the original founders, a team was hardly anything impressive with just two members. With the event of the bandits still very much fresh in Jeremy's mind, it seemed even more imperative to bolster their numbers.

But then again, it could be a curious guild mate coming in to check on him. News of the mission spread pretty quickly, and other Pokemon had come to offer sympathy or to wrangle out the details of the encounter when he first came in that day.

Wincing slightly at the thought of moving his sore body when he didn't have to, Jeremy settled on clearing his throat as he called out dryly, "It opens."

With all the commotion, it should probably have come as little surprise to the Farfetch'd that he had yet to actually find the Guildmaster; indeed, it seemed as though something unfortunate had happened recently, and though it was causing a decent amount of bustle, still, none had come to give him any sort of welcoming, or any means of knowing who was in charge.  Perhaps in the grand scheme of things, it would all work out for the better.  Knowing what someone did when they weren't at their best would enable him to see truth, to separate it from deception. Sadly, there were some in the world who didn't care for the simple pleasures of doing good, some who dared to think of themselves rather than of others.  That was unpleasant.

But as he wandered through the various corridors, Luke finally centered on one door; it seemed to be a sort of entrance to many entrances, a place where something could happen.  In any case, it was worth a knock.  So, with a rat-tat-tat, the Farfetch'd made his presence known by tapping on the door with his leek repeatedly.  It was supposed to be friendly, but, well, he also needed to be heard.  And, with that, he heard the response from within.  Not much of a how-do-you-do, perhaps, but it would suffice.  

Stepping through the door, it was from within that he saw the figure who had once welcomed him was the room, beaten and looking very much the worse for wear.  "Oh dear!  Have you come to petition Team Magna for help, dear sir?"  Advertisements were around, but that didn't mean Luke really paid heed to the minutiae therein, he was mostly interested in getting out there to get into the fighting.  So the question, while innocent, could certainly have repercussions.

The snake furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes as the door creaked open. Hearing the slap of webbed feet before he even caught sight of the farfetch'd, Jeremy gently laid his papers to the side to take care of later. It seemed that at the moment, he had a guest.

As his amber gaze took in the other pokemon in the room, he raised a scaly brow in turn. Farfetch'd were not unknown to him. The strange, eccentric bird pokemon often lived in small, isolated clans around the world. Such a clan was actually not too far from his family's ancestral lands. They were well known for growing seemingly mundane food stalks that they guarded fiercely. Jeremy could not remember the specifics, but legend had it that the farfetch'd were taught by a mysterious swordsman on the proper skills of battle as they tried in vain to defend their land from pillagers. Ever since then, the bird/normal hybrids have been known to be quite capable warriors, mastering a number of different techniques. For pokemon who were not known to evolve, they used their plant stalks with unnerving skill… Certainly never to be underestimated.

It was also a fairly well known fact that quite a few of them were… Weird… For lack of a better term.

Turning to face the farfetch'd, the snivy could tell from the lack of ribbon that he must not be a guild mate… Or, he may have simply removed it. He did give a sigh at the question that he put forward though, and Jeremy gave him a somewhat cross look.

"Actually," He began, "My name is Jeremy Blackwood, and I happen to actually be the leader of Team Magna. As you can see, we have a somewhat rough spot on our last assignment. But enough of that, what can I do for you?" The tone was neutral and carefully composed. Throughout all of it, Jeremy never faltered from his scrutinizing stare.

Jeremy Blackwood?  Not a name he was familiar with, not one of the notables of the local teams, and Team Magna was just as much a mystery to the duck.  What Jeremy said about being a leader had to be something which he'd only recently come up with; a real team would have... well, members.  The advertisements mentioned a team, so there obviously were more members, though where and who they were was unknown.  Regardless, it seemed as though this particular snake needed more people saving him than vice versa.  Of course, not having been there, he could have no clue what happened, but the emotion on the Snivy's face hardly seemed that of the battered victor.  "So, what exactly happened to put you in such a state?"  

Perhaps there were other ways to go about asking such direct questions, but really, the pleasantries were overrated, when compared to the importance of getting things done.  Luke had some hopes of being a grand adventurer, but in order to be come an adventurer, one first needs a quest, a task of some kind.  Perhaps, though he was supposedly the leader of a group, this Snivy would have some clue as to what was required to accomplish some feat of greatness.  While Luke certainly didn't doubt his own worth in a fight, he couldn't quite say the same about his worth in getting to the place thereof.  The reason he even came to Grassveil and the guild was to discover the roots of adventuring; he needed to know where to go to find a quest, needed to be trusted to accomplish things... which would necessitate getting to know others.

Admittedly, he wasn't really getting to know the Snivy as much as the wounds thereupon, but with some degree of time and effort, he hoped to learn more through his own experience, rather than merely living it out through others.  It was a part of his code to learn things on his own, and training really couldn't go very far; one should never hide from the tasks they take upon themselves, and being one of valiant courage could not happen just by reading a book.

The Grass Snake Pokemon actually scowled at the complete and utter rejection of his own query for a rather invasive question in kind. Who was this person and why were they here? Well, Jeremy had yet to know that because the farfetch'd seemed quite intent on avoiding that conversation entirely. Having the faintest hint of a grimace or sneer on his face, Jeremy fixed Luke with a cold, hard stare.

"Bandits." He stated simply.

He let that small, direct answer sink in before he went on."Now, I really don't know who you are or what you are doing in my quarters. If you are a free lancer and are interested in procuring the bounties, you have to wait for the posted information like everyone else. If you need to talk to the guild master, Faye is out at the moment, but should be in about an hour or so."

The snivy then gestured to the papers on his desk. "I have work to do, so if that will be all…"