Advice and Interrogation (Glen, Dolores)

"Well, that's that," Callahan says, looking pleased with himself.

Placing the amulet back in the drawer from whence he produced it, he digs from another drawer an arm-patch like the ones Glen saw adorned on the city guardspeople outside the building. The patch has the symbol of the city--a stylized rendition of the Wall, with sun and moon above--and a string of numbers along the bottom which presumably means something which eludes Glen. The last number in the string has been stitched with yellow thread instead of the blue thread on Captain Callahan's patch.

"This is good for three months," the Captain says, handing it over to Glen. "After that, bring it back or tear it up--I prefer that it be brought back. You can wear it on your sleeve if you need to project authority, or you can carry it in your pockets if you are traveling in an environment where being a deputy guardsman would be dangerous to admit. Let me draw you up a warrant."

Glen takes the patch and slips it into his pocket with his Eighth Division symbol and Luther's personal sigil. "Thank you, sir. I will make sure your faith in me is not misplaced." His eyes shine with admiration and pride.

Callahan blinks once and looks up at Dolores, then concentrates on the paper he's writing upon. At the end, he blows on the ink, scatters some sand over the top, stamps it, rolls it up tightly, and produces a scroll tube to hold the document. "Water-proof," he explains, handing the case over to Glen. "Don't pull the warrant out unless you need to and it'll be safe in there. It's an official document granting authority to the bearer to bring back Gwynnestri Siannodel for questioning by the city guard."

Sighing, he leans back in his chair. "In theory, she is legally bound to obey this summons. In theory, anyone who tries to prevent her from doing so--or tries to prevent you from bringing her in--is breaking the law. In theory, you're supposed to be able to present this and say 'Gwynnestri Siannodel, I have a warrant to escort you to the city guard for questioning,' and she's supposed to say 'oh gosh darn but okay' and everyone is supposed to stand aside and watch you two walk off into the sunset. In theory, if she resists or tries to flee, you have discretion to pursue and subdue her."

He shakes his head. "In practice, if you find her and she's surrounded by eight hundred bloodthirsty pirates, you're allowed to not bring all this up. I want the girl recovered, don't get me wrong, but that doesn't oblige you to act suicidal. Use this as leverage if you can, but you're not compelled to carry out the warrant. Does that make sense? You're allowed to use your best judgment."

Glen listens carefully, takes the scroll case, and nods.

"Yes, sir, I understand. I have the authority to use it, but I am not compelled to do so," he confirms. "This is very helpful. Does this mean that my orders are now to bring her to the city guard rather than her mother? Or is that also a question up to the needs of the situation?" He looks back and forth between them.

Dolores shakes her head. "I want to catch two fish with one hook here," she tells Callahan. "Laerdya ordered Glen to bring Gwynnestri 'to her'. If he brings her to the city guard station, and you summon Laerdya here for questioning alongside her daughter, then I consider that a discharge of his duties: he brought Gwynnestri 'to' her mother, just not at the Feytower."

Callahan makes a face. "Wizards in my station," he grumbles. "But, yes, yes, I agree that is the most appropriate course of action. They're either victims of several serious crimes or accomplices; we'll bring them both in and sort it all out in an interrogation room."

"So," Glen says, "to be perfectly clear, are my orders then to ONLY bring her directly here, and nowhere else? I am not authorized to bring her directly to the Feytower, or to the temple complex to rest or pray, or anything else?"

Captain Callahan shakes his head. "No, that's not how this works. You're military, so I understand why you think it's a matter of orders, but Dolores is here vouching for you and saying you have thumbs, so I believe her. I do want the girl brought in, but use your best judgment. If she's wounded and you need to get her to the temple, do so. If she's traumatized and needs to see her mother, take her to the Feytower. Whatever. I'm not going to give you an order because I don't know what you'll find when you hypothetically locate her. You get to sort out the details. All this warrant and patch do is give you the authority of the city guard to make your wishes manifest, so to speak. Which is why you vowed to act in the city's best interest and your good judgment."

"Ah," Glen says, clarity dawning on his face. "Yes sir, I understand. Thank you."

"There was one other thing I was hoping to ask you, sir, if you wouldn't mind. Since we are dealing with pirates, I wanted to ask if the city guard might be holding a pirate who might have been a member of Korogur Redfang's crew, or at least who might be associated with him. Do you know if you have anyone like that in your custody?"

Callahan's eyes narrow and he digs through a sheaf of papers. "We do have a pirate in custody right now," he agrees. "No idea if he's affiliated with Korogur. He's been pretty tight-lipped."

"Can I speak with him, sir? Today or tomorrow, if at all possible? I realize that is a very tight timeline, but I ask because events in our operation are ongoing, even as we speak."

"Have fun," Callahan says with a chuckle. "Third floor, straight down the hall, talk to Shira. She's the jailer, so to speak, and she's cleared to make all the necessary decisions. Saves me time and hassle. Good luck finding the girl, by the way. I don't much appreciate private detectives, but if I must be plagued with them, I do prefer they be sensible military types like you."

"Sir, I never planned on going into this line of work, but I appreciate your kind words nonetheless. It has been a pleasure meeting you. Thank you very much for your assistance." He looks to make sure Dolores doesn't have anything else she needs to address.

"You say that now," Callahan grumbles happily. "It'll be 'that asshole Callahan' soon enough, the next time I'm too busy to see you. No, no, off you two go, I won't keep you."

Smiling fondly, Dolores bows to Captain Callahan and leads Glen out. "He's always like that," she murmurs once the door is closed behind them.

"He's very direct. I appreciate that." He turns to her, speaking quietly. "Ma'am, thank you - this was so valuable. And I'm sorry for springing that on you and putting you on the spot - about Pelor, I mean." He looks a little sheepish, but exceedingly proud at the same time.

Dolores can't help but smile. "Never feel the need to apologize for venerating my god, Glen. I am touched."

He beams in return. "Are you returning to the wall? Or do you wish to accompany me to see the pirate? I understand you have much to do. Also, I haven't forgotten about the bandit - but since we're here, I figured I might speak with the pirate now. If time permits, I can come back and see you this afternoon. Is that alright, ma'am?"

"I should return to the wall," Dolores admits with an apologetic look. "But yes, you are always welcome back. You have good instincts, Glen. Trust them as I do."

It is Glen's turn to look touched. "Thank you, ma'am. I won't let you down." He salutes her with a smile then turns on his heel and heads off, following Callahan's directions until he arrives on the third floor. When he thinks he's in the right place, he stops the first person he sees.

"Pardon me. I'm looking for Shira, the jailer. Can you tell me where I might find her?"

"Through that door," the person says, pointing as they hurry along.

The occupant of the room he finds himself in--and presumably 'Shira'--is a massive orcish woman a good head or two taller than Glen and with biceps which could crush him. She looks up from where she sits reading a book. "Yeah? You lost?"

"No ma'am." He salutes her. "Glen Liadon, he of the Eighth Division, deputy of the City Guard. I'm here to interrogate a pirate you're holding, with the permission of Captain Callahan." He looks at her physique and adds "um, is that okay?"

Her lips twitch slightly with amusement. "If Captain says it's ok, who am I to argue? C'mon."

He nods gratefully. "Great. Thank you, ma'am." He follows her, realizing she probably thinks he's some stuffy dork, but basically fine with it.

The cells seem mostly empty today as Glen is led by Shira past several immaculately clean and open cells on the way to the back of the room. At the far end of the row of cells, they come to a closed one with a youngish human man who looks to be in his mid-twenties. Despite having clearly been here for some time, his wry expression and dancing eyes are bright and irreverent.

"Knock yourself out with this one," Shira says with a sigh, turning to leave Glen behind so she can return to her post by the door. "He hasn't been a lick of helpful to us, but maybe you'll get something."

Glen nods at Shira. "Thank you very much."

Turning to the prisoner, Glen folds his arms. Elen plops his baby butt down right next to his ranger and watches the prisoner carefully. Glen feels a pang of sympathy for this man who is cooped up in a cell - not a natural state for any person. At the same time, his resolve is hardened by the importance of the task.

"My name is Glen Liadon, he of the Silverwoods. I'd like to ask you some questions. Before I do, are you hungry? Thirsty? I have some jerky, some dried fruit and nuts, and some water I will gladly share, if you would like." He sets down his bag and waits for an answer before digging out the things he has offered.

The man's laughing eyes flick over Glen with teasing interest. "Yeah, I'm hungry. Not for jerky, though."