Most of her skills related to the cartographer profession—such as Scrivener’s Origin, which allowed her to roughly sense where a person was when they wrote something, as well as how long ago it was written—though there were others, like Identify Lifeform and Assess Anatomy, which synergized more with her research into semi-mythical insects.
Find Text was undeniably useful, but Tiri was more interested in the very last line of its description. Assuming Detect Intent did what its name suggested, it could give her insight into the actual person behind the account beyond the simple facts of time and place. Knowing how someone had felt while writing, say, a memoir would provide valuable clues as to their motivation—and the overall trustworthiness of the work in question.
She felt a real thrill as another possibility crossed her mind. Did this mean she'd also be able to tell if whoever had written it had been truthful? To debunk false testimony and verify conflicting accounts, not just in matters of history but also of justice? The applications were potentially limitless.
She stared at the text, only half seeing it, so focused was she on pondering its implications. Luckily the corridors of the Guild were relatively empty, so she didn't bump into anyone. Presumably they were all in the cafeteria.
Her personal knack for going unnoticed also helped. Though that was mainly because those in the Guild looked down on those of the Academy, and vice versa. The two institutions might be on separate campuses, but it was a common enough sight for research and errands to take academics to the Guild and adventurers to the Academy. With her head down and her stride deliberate, Tiri looked too shy and dull to bother, but also just confident enough to appear like she belonged there.
Her tired mind turned from her new ability to processing the facts, and quickly reached a somewhat urgent conclusion.
The Guildmaster seeks a purple God Core. The Guild are sworn to destroy all God Cores. Therefore he intends to destroy the purple Core—which means the last gnomes in Kelaria could disappear into extinction.
I can't let that happen.
She was also concerned about this 'Lord of Light' Lila had mentioned, though the (admittedly generic) moniker was not familiar to Tiri. If Lila and the Guildmaster were working at the behest of some secret religion, that was definitely something she needed to know.
Her mind was so busy that she was halfway down the next stairwell before she spotted the pair of guards at the bottom of it, standing in front of a heavy wooden door.
Looks like I’ve found the cells. And they’re guarded, because of course they are.
How was she going to get past the guards?
She'd need some kind of distraction. Perhaps she could knock over one of those ugly suits of armor that adorned the nearby hallway.
She was about to retreat back up the stairs when the guard on the left cleared his throat. The one on the right stood straighter and placed a hand on his weapon.
They've seen me.
Now she had no choice but to keep walking downward. Turning around would look too suspicious.
But what could she say to them? "Morning, I'm here to interview your prisoners for a feature in the Academy Gazette: 'Barbarians Behind Bars.'"? It was unlikely they'd believe the bluff but it was the best she could come up with on the spot.
As she came closer, though, a dreamy expression crossed the face of first one guard, then the other. The one on the right actually started drooling. Ew. Both stared vacantly off into the distance. It was as though they were looking through Tiri at something up the stairs.
She glanced over her shoulder—had she been followed? Was Sinica readying for a matching punch to her other kidney?—but there was nothing there but an empty stairwell.
She was forced to flatten herself against the wall as both guards suddenly stumbled past her and up the stairs, zombie-like in their single-mindedness.
"... only five minutes until shift change..." one of them muttered.
"Can't wait... bacon butties..." moaned the other.
A moment later and Tiri was alone.
Well, that was… weird.
Utterly baffled by the guards' behavior but unwilling to squander this opportunity, Tiri made for the wooden door the guards had been flanking.
It was locked.
Of course it's locked. It's a prison.
Three seconds' examination of her surroundings revealed a ring of keys hanging from a nail in the wall beside the door. With some skepticism, she tried a few of them until the door's lock responded and clicked open.
This... is too easy.
Easy? It was downright suspicious, is what it was. But what else could she do but proceed?
She found Coll in the third cell on the left. The big man was slumped against the back wall, rubbing his head, but he sat up straight when he heard the key turn in the lock.
"Tiri?!"
She hurried into the cell to help him as he struggled to his feet. He waved her off, muttering something about passive fighter skills and minimal concussion debuffs. She leaned in closer. It was true; his pupils looked fine.
Good. She punched him on the arm.
"What did you do?" she whispered fiercely. She nodded toward the open cell door and Coll trooped out, obedient as ever.
"Ben needed a familiar, him being a mage and all, so I helped him break into the Menagerie and steal one."
She froze in the middle of re-locking the cell door, then whirled to face him. "You what?!"
"Ben needed a fam—"
She shushed him with a gesture. Shaking her head, she silently led Coll from the cells, making sure to lock the main door and replace the keys behind them.
Once her anger was under control, she asked, "Where is Benin now?"
"The safe house. Probably."
The warrior stumbled on the stairs. She rolled her eyes and propped him up with her shoulder, groaning a little beneath the weight of muscle and stupidity.
Thankfully, the main hall was empty. A small part of Tiri's mind registered how unusual that was for this time in the morning; it should have been full of Guild
