Submission (#6340) Approved

-Act 3/3
-Bellmoril AP
-Include an adult Mini Requirement (2 of 2) instead of a 4th act [Eln798]
-Adventurer rank mini unlock requirement (act of bravery)
-For MYO-Eln526
-WOOHOO IT'S NOW UNDER 2K!!!!!!! .....1955 xD

Edited! If you guys could remove 2210, who's now been replaced by a generic kittom, that'd be awesome!! :3c

updated x2! on mobile so unable to see what final word count is >.>

Yuriy has only been in Bellmoril for a couple hours when he receives the missive. It comes to him in the form of an Elnin he has no patience for, holding a note in his maw with a smirk on his face.

“I’ve got a side mission for you, kitten,” Kiril informs him, spitting the note into his palm. “Should be easy enough, even for you.”

Humming, Yuriy snags the spit-soaked paper. He shakes the note, unfurling it.

It’s a standard retrieval of a lost son to a local wealthy magistrate; something that anyone could’ve handled, but Yuriy supposes it’s punishment for his most recent insubordination.

Kiril must know it, too, as he claps a paw on Yuriy’s shoulder, saying, “I’ll be chaperoning you. Just to make sure nothing… unfortunate happens.”

“Tch. Whatever,” Yuriy scoffs. He skims the note’s contents once more, leaning back in his wooden chair. The kittom’s currently stationed outside a lovely little tavern on the outskirts of Il'durahn, a newspaper spread out in front of him with the local news. Yuriy had been searching for leads on a case the Madam had tasked him with earlier that week.

The tavern has an outdoor view of the surrounding fiery forests, cobblestone pathways leading back towards the heart of the city. Birds chirp as they flit from bleached branches to nests, shaking red and orange leaves down as they land.

The pure white Eldertree practically glows in the afternoon light, looming over everything like an ethereal watchtower. The rustic look of the buildings coupled with the vines overtaking every surface possible makes for a very scenic city.

It also makes reconnaissance here excessively annoying. Not that he’d admit as much to Kiril, but sniffing out particular scents and following physical trails is hard for Yuriy when nature has taken over everything. He finds himself distracted when there’s too many overlapping scents.

Yuriy scans the note again. The lilac colored kittom appears to be the oldest son of a wealthy magistrate with a vacation house in Bellmoril; unfortunately for him, the rest of his children are female.

The stupid kid seems to have left the house two nights ago through a servant’s passage, absconding into the forested mountains surrounding it. General markers for tracking have been listed as pale purple fur, and an uneven gait. Seems that the kittom had a previous injury to his hind legs which was never fully healed. Should make the tracking a bit easier, though.

The listed reward for a safe return is more than enough for Yuriy to make haste.

Tucking his newspaper away and throwing the note into the candle at his table, Yuriy turns towards Kiril. The Elnin’s wings are fluttering slightly in the wind, hair pulled back into a messy bun. He looks too vibrant, too cold for the warmth of Bellmoril’s natural landscape.

“Let’s head out,” Yuriy says. He stretches as he stands, popping his back and cranking his neck. “The estate the kittom was last seen at is only a short walk away.”

Kiril falls into line beside Yuriy, slightly ahead of the kittom to take point. It’s a subtle show of superiority that makes Yuriy clench his teeth and Kiril knows it.

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it. Yuriy repeats the mantra in his head as many times as it takes for the frustration to leech out of him. He keeps his eyes on the Elnin they pass, the shade of the autumnal tree line, the uneven cobblestone—

“Are you always this quiet? Or is my intel on you wrong?” Kiril asks suddenly. The silent bubble of peace Yuriy had been surrounding his mind in pops obnoxiously. “From what I’ve heard, you’re a downright menace usually.”

“Shut up.”

“Aah, there it is,” Kiril laughs. “But I’m more of a talker, and if I get too bored on missions, things start going wrong— if you know what I mean.”

“Please just shut up,” Yuriy practically begs, trying to salvage his own sanity. Everything about Kiril irritates him in ways he can’t describe. “We’re almost there.”

And it’s true, because Yuriy can see the large vacation home coming into view. Kiril nods his head in acquiesce, but still continues on babbling.

“The property isn’t too big to do a quick search on, and the creek seems like the most likely route he took when leaving.”

The small stream runs directly through the backyard of the property, heading deeper into the woods at a sharp angle. For any unexperienced kittom, it’s definitely a landmark one might use to try and stay oriented in the woods, especially at night.

Amidst Kiril’s muttering, they come upon the front gate. An elderly Elnin ushers them in without a word. The front courtyard is filled with birch saplings, primly preened with no fallen leaves to be seen. A well paved trail runs from the entrance to the front door of the home, golden knockers in the shape of maple leaves adorning it.

Kiril whistles as they’re allowed entry into the home. Unlike a majority of the buildings scattered throughout Bellmoril, this one is kept in pristine condition. Rugs and tapestries contain no traces of wear, cabinetry topped with crystalline figures shine, and beautifully painted portraits of the family look at them sternly from above.

The master of the house is a short and stout Elnin, beard flecked with gray and horns dulling in old age. A maid is positioned beside the grand chair he’s settled in, serving him what Yuriy assumes is an excessively expensive tea blend. He motions for Yuriy and Kiril to sit in the much more modest love seats across from him.

At first the master explains little more than what was written on the missive, but eventually reveals that the kittom had left the estate in possession of a priceless family heirloom.

“Normally we’d just let our boy get the exploration out of his system—he tends to be a bit flighty, running away from his studies—but my wife has been beside herself without her mother’s brooch.”

It’s a ridiculous task, but a job is a job, and Yuriy’s not actually allowed to say no. Especially not when he’s assigned a babysitter like Kiril.

Speaking of, Kiril pipes up from beside him, “We’ll need some scents for both items to follow.”

Yuriy refrains from commenting, especially when the scent match for the kittom is revealed to be a pair of worn down boots, sweaty and smelly and crusted with some particularly foul substance on the bottom. The scent of the kittom lingers pungently in the soles, so the pair dubiously lean in for a beat to catch a whiff. A second glass vial filled with perfume is brought in, which, thankfully, is disgustingly overpowering the soggy smell of feet.

“The little lad's recently decided to run these through the stables,” the Master mentions. "Oh! And this is my lovely wife’s preferred fragrance, so it should be a comparable match to the brooch. Isn’t it just heavenly?”

Yuriy’s nose is twitching from the sock and floral assault. He steals a glance at Kiril, but the ‘nin is just smiling pleasantly.

“Anything else you’d like to add before we take our leave?” Yuriy asks, trying to speed up their departure. The Master scratches at his mustache for a second, before the maid leans in and whispers something in his ear. His eyes light up.

“Of course! There’s a tree house my father built with his father a couple decades ago, which might be a good location to check up on. It’s located a couple clicks north of the servant’s quarters.”

And without further ado, the pair is summarily shooed out of the house by the main butler. With the bottles in hand, Yuriy takes another whiff of each one separately. Kiril swipes the bottles from him to take his own secondary sniffs.

“Seems like a real charmer,” Kiril speaks up as they head over to the building that houses the servants. Already, Yuriy starts parsing all of the scents around him and keeping an eye on foot trails. Kiril is probably doing the same, just less obviously. “I’m on strict orders to oversee your work this time around due to the high profile client, so don’t wander off.”

Being babied by a lousy pile of bricks like Kiril practically burns Yuriy inside. But he also knows that to disregard it as the warning it truly is would be dangerous.

“Then you better be able to keep up with me,” Yuriy challenges.

From the servant’s quarters they’re able to pick up small traces of both scents, both sputtering to a stop and starting again multiple times. Yuriy picks up a more reliable trail about 20 feet from the housing unit, waving Kiril over. The Elnin’s wings flutter, the only visual show of his excitement.

From there, it’s startlingly easy to follow the winding scent trail, with the occasional paw print and stray pieces of bright lilac fur amidst the mud for extra clarity. The trail generally follows the creek, as expected. 

Kiril seems to at least understand the importance of keeping quiet while hunting. He’s still mouthing words and muttering under his breath, but that's easy enough to ignore.

Just as the Master suggested, the trail seems to lead directly to the tree house. It’s heavy in the air, completely obscuring the natural scent of the woods. The house is dilapidated and barely standing, birch trees providing the base for a run-down collection of plank walls. The orange and yellow leaf roof is caving in some parts, but seems to be mostly holding up against the elements.

However, the trail still leads on. Kiril must pick up on the same thing, because they both continue on without pause. The path twists and turns wildly through the forest, and it's suddenly clear what's happened when they come upon a mild cliff that drops off quite abruptly-

The kittom had been spooked away, and right off a cliff. From the accompanying tracks, by a deer no less. The brooch rests innocently on the ground a couple paces away from the drop, partially obscured by leaves.

He watches Kiril peer over the edge of the cliff, smirking abruptly. Packing the brooch away, Yuriy comes over and joins him. And oh boy, is it a sight to see. It takes a couple beats for the kittom to notice them, but when he does, his voice is shrill and grating.

"Get me out of here!" The kittom screams. It's covered in sticks, leaves, and a whole ton of mud. Almost looks like someone'd poured muck directly over his head. It keeps yelling at them in an outpour of demands that make Yuriy's head spin.

"Are you sure we have to get him out?" Yuriy asks, thinking of how messy he's about to become. To risk the silky smooth nature of his coat for some jerk rich kid makes him seethe inside.

The smirk falls off Kiril's face. Seems he's realized the same. Serves him right.

As they both make their way down the slope, picking their way around rocks, tree roots, and leaves alike, Yuriy laughs. Without their affection for their belongings, the wealthy magistrate might just have lost their only son to an ill conceived runaway plan and not even known it. 

The pair are able to untangle the kittom from the mess, and support his weight as he hobbles on one leg back up the slope. All the while forced to be on the receiving end of vague threats to their person if they ever tell of this 'indignity.' 

They return the lost kittom to his father; but not before dumping his ungrateful, unwashed behind straight into the ice cold creek water.

The shriek is payment enough for a job well done.