Despite all the news that came out of The Chronicle's offices, it was always rather quiet. Since the event of the tidal wave, Terra Vale's war and the battle led by Deanna DiCorvino, Reid had lost contact with his only other companion in the office, an older man named Bob. As the custodian of The Chronicle's office, the older man usually kept to himself and was quiet, though occasionally he wrote an article and even did so for the Rumor Has It column. Reid had unfortunately given up trying to look for Bob among the large death toll that recently plagued Aleris' shores. He hoped that wherever Bob was that the man was happily sweeping floors and was surrounded by large breasted women, which Reid shuddered at the thought of, but he was sure Bob enjoyed a woman's ample chest area.

Sometime after Bob's disappearance, Reid had hired a young girl about 17 years old named Cerrie. The girl had a knack for machines and so she was in charge of making sure all of The Chronicle's printing devices were in working order and from time to time she took it upon herself to clean up the place and dust away the cobwebs. However, upon his return from the Winter Masquerade Ball in Arthuran, Reid found Cerrie doing something unexpected. She was in his office sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by many scrolls of parchments. They were divided into two piles, one slightly bigger than the other. Reid took off his coat, laying it over his desk and regarded Cerrie with curiosity.

"What's going on?"

"Ah, well, Mr. Feral -"

"Reid," he said correcting her for about the hundredth time.

"Yes, um, Reid, while you were gone, we had an influx of mail in response to The Chronicle," she began. Cerrie gestured to the small pile of letters. "This is your fan mail," she said pausing to then point to the larger pile, "and this is your hate mail."

"Fantastic. Let's have a read, shall we?"

Reid sat down on the floor and together the two of them began reading through the plethora of letters Reid had received. Sometimes they shared the contents aloud, but other times the two quietly read. Cerrie's brow would often furrow as if in concern while on the other hand Reid's lips would twist into a grin which was followed by a chuckle. After several hours when night finally fell across Grand City, they were both finished reading and Reid folded his hands into his lap, looking quite content.

"If you don't mind me asking," Cerrie started, "how is it that you look so pleased? I mean, all these death threats and name calling... Perhaps you should take it easy with the Rumor Has It column."

"Not a chance," Reid said quickly shaking his head in response. "If these people for a second take the contents of this column seriously, then I'm sorry to say that the lot of them are quite foolish indeed. After all, a good portion of this article is made up bullshit. I'm actually really surprised anyone would get their knickers into a twist over this. I was going for humor, but if people want to take it as the ultimate written word of Aleris, then so be it."

Cerrie looked at him skeptically as Reid stood and started to toss many of the scrolls of parchment into the fireplace. "I'm just worried is all."

"There's nothing to worry about, Cerrie. Besides, I have about seven lives left," the cat-like man said turning back to wink at Cerrie for a moment. She smiled although it was a faint one. "There's one thing you need to know about this whole business. One definitive truth. There is plenty of worthy news to read in the other articles about what's going on in Aleris. I do my best to deliver that news, however, majority of our readers skip through that and go right to Rumor Has It. Despite their hatred for the articles in that column, they soak it up like sponges because they actually do enjoy the drama and slander that comes from it. And gods forbid it has their name in it. Then I'm the spawn of satanic rituals."

"Did you ever expect to be writing things like this though?"

"I never expected any of what has happened to me during my life," Reid said reaching to his desk to pull on his jacket. "Being the editor of Aleris' paper is just another little surprise on the train of my being. Whatever else becomes of me as a result, I welcomingly await the challenges ahead." Reid bent down and placed a soft kiss on Cerrie's forehead and then straightened to his full height, his tail swaying slowly behind him. "I'm heading out for a bit, Cerrie. I'll clean up the rest of this when I get back. Don't stay up too late."

Reid left The Chronicle's offices and headed out into Grand City's cobblestone streets. The city had picked up quite a bit and was recovering from the damages it had suffered. In the past months, he would have been walking outside alone with his ankles covered in water, but these days people were going on about their business and trying to recover the lost pieces of their lives. Really, Reid found it amazing the strength in some folks to keep moving on despite all the terrible things that had recently plagued all of Aleris.

During his stroll, Reid stopped at a familiar looking building. When he had first come to Aleris, he had stayed a few nights in the building. It was a bakery that was once managed by a sweet woman named Brier Briallen. In his cat form, Brier had taken him in, saving him from a pack of hungry dogs and gave him a nice sized saucer of milk which he happily lapped up. As a bonus, her fireplace was always warm and toasty. Now, the small bakery lacked of any life and had been weathered and damaged due to the storm and war that wreaked havoc through Aleris. Like Bob, Reid wondered what had happened to Brier and hoped she was safe wherever she was, that she had survived the chaos in the city. But those thoughts were fleeting at best as Reid stepped away from the shadows that the bakery cast and headed onward.

Her first full week working at The Chronicle had proven to be uneventful for Rahne, at least in the writing department. As far as Cerrie was concerned, the newest edition to the team excelled at filing, dusting, sweeping and especially mopping. None of these tasks were performed with a smile on Rahne’s face or a song in her heart, but despite the sharp glares and scowls she offered the smiling Cerrie from time to time, Rahne grudgingly performed each task assigned to her. Menial labor was, after all, a step up from performing sexual tasks in alleyways. That unpleasant past employment description had sad to say, been absolutely truthful on Rahne’s job description.

Only six months ago had the girl resided near Elysia’s temple in a place of refuge for those seeking safety and shelter from the madness of natural disasters and wars that plagued the lands. Rahne had been under the tutelage of Dravvin Kirk, but the crusty old of a bitch had up and left the young ‘apprentice’ to her own devices, and thus young Rahne had zero choice but to remain with the other refugees under the watchful eye of Elysia’s priests.

Needless to say, the young girl did not get along well enough with men who believed that hard work, prayer and obedience would transform the wiley undisciplined girl into something rather extraordinary, perhaps even a future priestess of Elysia. Rahne had other ideas. A life of servitude was not for one who craved adventure and excitement. Plus they tried on several occasions to take away her awesome frickin’ bo staff, a staff with intricate rune carvings on it that Dravvin swore would serve her well and protect her once she figured out how to use it properly. It was, Rahne would hate to admit, a work in progress. The only useful purpose the staff served now was to beat off rats and overzealous and horny men who lurked the City streets preying on young street urchins for sexual favors.

Since leaving Arthuran and travelling to Eiler prior to winter setting in, Rahne had certainly found the adventure and excitement she craved. Pretty and petite, with impish-like features and wide violet eyes, Rahne had found a temporary family with a small group of homeless teenagers who roamed the Grand City streets, hustling for money, food, and on rare occasions, a warm bed to sleep in at night. Sure one had to shed their own dignity and self respect, not to mention their virtues to live Rahne’s sort of lifestyle, but hey, it was better than being six feet under, right?

Rahne did not have any particular hobbies, but she did enjoy reading. More specifically, she enjoyed reading The Chronicle. Actually, Rahne adored The Rumor Has It section, and would crack up in hysterics each time she skimmed over whatever the editor of Tthe Chronicle, Reid Feral, had to say. The man was a genius as far as she was concerned, and Rahne hated to admit, but in the time she had discovered her new found love of The Chronicle and the gossip sections, the girl had developed a crush on the editor whom she had never met.

When Rahne neared her seventeenth birthday, she decided that a life of prostitution and hustling was not for her, and felt it best to choose a far more respectable job position. She heard whispered rumors that The Chronicle might have been in need of more staff, so Rahne jumped on the positions, hastily filling out a rather stupid application and waited. Sure enough, a girl close to her own age who worked at The Chronicle, Cerrie, found her and informed her with a bright smile that Reid Feral had hired Rahne to start work immediately. This thrilled Rahne beyond belief...until she found out exactly what sort of work her new boss had in store for her, and it certainly wasn’t writing.

The first day on the job, Rahne had the absolute fortune of catching a glimpse of Reid while in his office. He actually even waved to her and called out a hello before she was whisked away by Cerrie to perform one of a thousand tasks. Rahne craned her neck to peer in Reid’s office as Cerrie yanked furtively on her arm toward one of the spare rooms that contained paperwork that was in dire need of filing. The dark haired newcomer arched a thin brow, her eyes wide as she took in the spectacle that was Reid, and...was he wearing some sort of gloss on his lips? Most likely to keep his lips from drying out from the cold. Rahne supposed he was handsome in a strange unique way. No, pretty. He was pretty. Handsome wasn’t the right word. Still, Rahne continued crushing after the feline editor in chief until...

“So um, Sherry. About Reid. Is he seeing anyone?” Rahne lifted her head from the stacks of clippings and regarded the other girl with an inquisitive look.

Cerrie chuckled and shook her head as she tinkered with one of the printing machines. “Mr. Reid?” Cerrie was working hard at not calling Reid, Mr. Feral as instructed, but it was a struggle. “No. As far as I know he is single. Single, but hopeful. The boss is a true romantic at heart.”

Rahne couldn’t help the twinge of excitement that passed through her. “Really? Um, so what’s his preference? Blonde? Dark hair? Big breasted or...,” Rahne glanced down at her rather small buds that she prayed wouldn’t stay that way forever and frowned briefly before glancing back at Cerrie. “So what’s up? What’s his type, Candy? Help a girl out here!”

Cerrie finished screwing a bolt into place and stood up, wiping greasy hands upon her smock before snickering at Rahne. “His preference is one with a sausage swinging between his legs.” Cerrie couldn’t hide the mirth in her eyes or tone of voice upon seeing the disbelief on Rahne’s face. “Mr. Reid plays for the same team, Rahne. He likes men, obviously. Duh. You did get a good look at him, right?” Unable to believe the two young women were nearly the same age, Cerrie rolled her eyes. “And it’s Cerrie. C E R R I E.” She smiled at Rahne and patted her on the head as she walked by. “Just keep filing hun. Maybe one day you’ll graduate to writing articles for The Chronicle. Maybe.” Rahne made a face at the girl and threw a folder in Cerrie’s direction.

…

Rahne was just ending day seven of slave labor, and was prepared to head back to the cheap tavern where she rented a room when Cerrie poked her head in the doorway of the cramped closet Rahne was currently stationed in. The dark haired girl stood and stretched, working out tight muscles but it was the look of concern and worry on Cerrie’s face that had her ask, “What’s up Buttercup? Lose a finger in one of those machines of yours?”

Cerrie rubbed at her forehead. “No. It’s Mr. Reid. He went into town earlier and never came back. He’s usually here before closing. You know, to say goodbye and check on a few matters before ending his day. I’m worried because, well, have you read some of his ‘hate mail’ lately?” When Rahne shook her head no, Cerrie led her into Reid’s office and plucked a rather large box from one of the shelves. Within contained several letters directed to the editor, and after a few moments rummaging around, Cerrie found a particular venomous letter and handed it to Rahne to read.

“Wow. Some people are so touchy. Sheesh. It’s a rumor page. It’s for entertainment purposes. Get a grip.” Rahne shrugged and dropped the letter back in the box before offering Cerrie a faint smile. “I’m guessing you think someone is out to get the boss huh? Relax Cer. I’m sure he’s fine. Probably off scoping out the local street talent.” Rahne laughed and grabbed her belongings before heading for the door. “Lock up and go home Cerrie, and quit worrying so much.” She waved to the other girl and left the building, burrowing deep inside the thin coat she had for warmth, and as she was deciding what to do for the remainder of the evening, Rahne couldn’t help wonder if Cerrie’s paranoia was rubbing off on her and indeed Reid was in some sort of trouble.

Zaur got almost nothing from the humans but, the street name of their bloody cocktail. They called it Heartvane due to the stimulation of the organ it was named for, leading to a release of endorphins causing euphoric feelings. Basically it was like having sex without physical contact, truly a tempting sensation. Whoever produced the potion was skilled at hiding their trail it was frustrating to say the least. However, the reptile therianthrope knew it was only a matter of time before they slipped up again.

Regardless he decided to visit the chronicle building after chasing one false lead after another for several days. Zaur had learned that Reid Feral spent more time in the office than anywhere else. It made the shape shifter wonder when the editor found time to seek stories. Cerrie the press mechanic was there most of the time as well. Machines were still a mystery to the man from a different time period. Where he came from the forces of magic were used in place of this thing they called technology. He was completely out of his element with machinery, so the woman was a bit confusing to him.

The lizard magus had heard there was a new employee at the chronicle. However, she had already gone home by the time he arrived. The door was still unlocked so entry was not barred to him. He did have a key in case of emergency but, magic was another option for him if needed. "Excuse me Editor Feral, Cerrie are you still here." The silence was disquieting but, thankfully the mechanic appeared within a few minutes. He told the woman he had run into another wall as far as his investigation into Heartvane.

"Where is Reed Feral is he not usually here by now." Cerrie shook her head and mentioned that the man hadn't returned yet. She mentioned her concern and even showed him the hate letters. "I am confused has it not been stated several times in the paper that the Rumor Has It column is gossip not fact. Why have these people taken the article so literally?" Cerrie was baffled as well but Zaur decided to put her fears to rest if he could. He entered the Editor of the Chronicles office and sought loose hairs from the half breed. It didn't take long, cats must shed a lot he thought to himself.

He pulled out a map of Eiler and drew a circle composed of the five elements in blood above the map. The hair was placed in the hand sized circle. It began to move all over the detailed map for several minutes until the hairs vaporized as the energy was used up. He cursed himself in the Magi tongue. Alerian was a language he taught himself while in solitude thru several reference books he had acquired thru various means. There were several possibilities for why his seeking spell failed. Reid was not on Eiler any longer, he was shielded by a strong force, or Zaur had simply bumbled the spell it was his first attempt after all. "Cerrie I am sorry, it seems I have failed however, I shall continue to search you have my word." He wondered how to go about keeping his promise silently to himself.

OOC Note:

Curious as to the fate of intrepid reporter, Reid Feral? Wonder no longer!

To Venice and Back Again

The Square Tavern wasn’t the prettiest, roomiest, or even cleanest tavern in the Grand City, but it was the cheapest and that was what mattered most to Rahne. The room she rented was a dingy rat hole, and in fact she swore she spotted a rat scurrying under her bed the night before, but it was a place to rest her head. Considering she lived the last year of her life on the street, the Square was a luxurious haven that fed her and gave her shelter for the mere price of five gold a week, and this included the deal she worked out with the current manager that she keep her own room clean and tended to her own linens which was fine by her. At least she knew by her own hand, her belongings would be sanitized with actual soap and water.

The only upside the Square had was its location which was in the center of the Market Square in the Grand City. Essentially, it was a main hub for all the good gossip and ongoings in the City as well as the rest of the continents, which was the other reason Rahne set up base here. She figured if she was going to write for The Chronicle, what better source for information than the patrons of the Square Tavern? Rahne had to admit the stew was pretty tasty too, so it was another selling point.

Within the hour of leaving her ‘job’ at The Chronicle, which was presently just being Cerrie’s bitch girl who did all the lame clean up jobs, Rahne found herself sitting at the bar, shoveling stew in her mouth and tearing off large chunks of bread to dip. The ugly grunt behind the bar had asked what her preference to drink was, and although she rarely indulged in any sort of alcohol, Rahne felt brave enough to try ale. The young woman gagged and nearly snorted the brew out of her nose, truly not understanding the appeal for it, but she had paid for the ale and damned if she was going to waste it. So she ignored the burning in her throat and continued to eat while listening in to the conversations surrounding her.

There was some gossip regarding Bariston and the rebuilding effort, which honestly Rahne could care less about. From what she heard about the Lady Victoire, calling that woman a horse-faced thundercunt was an understatement. More troubles in Jade were the other whispers going around. Some weirdo death-magic cult tearing up the place. Rahne half-listened to bits and pieces, finding some interest in that. Perhaps there would be virgin sacrifices involved, or at least something involving howling at the moon and wearing the entrails of a goat.

She was just scooping the last bit of gravy from the bottom of her bowl when she heard talk of Reid, or at least what she discerned to be of Reid. Apparently there was a scuffle near one of the shops around late afternoon and some burly guys grabbed what was described as, “A very pretty and fashionable feline sort of girl,” before stuffing her in a bag and making a run for it. Rahne gulped her ale down in two swallows and slid from her barstool only to yank out one of the chairs that belonged to the table behind her to sit down.

The table was previously occupied by two women who, for lack of better word, reeked. Apparently ‘fish’ was the new perfume these days, either that or these women didn’t understand the necessity of washing their undercarriages. Either way, Rahne tried not to gag and instead smiled politely, wondering what exactly was festering between their legs as she politely inquired about the possible Reid-napping. The two nasty slags weren’t exactly forthcoming until Rahne mentioned the possibility of buying them each a shot of whiskey, and maybe offering them some lye soap, though the latter was thought in private.

Her money was sort of wasted, as the two ‘ladies’ really didn’t have much information, save that the person in question did seem to fit the description of the Editor of The Chronicle, and that he was taken hostage by some rather large fellows. It seemed that the City’s guards were involved in the little scuffle, but were unable to apprehend the thugs and therefore, unable to save Reid. Rahne chewed on her lower lip and frowned heavily. This was not good. Not at all.

Rahne thanked the women and dropped a couple of gold on the table to pay for their drinks before deciding to rush back to The Chronicle. Cerrie was a loser, and therefore a workaholic. Perhaps she was still there so Rahne could share her news? There was always a chance.

As luck would have it, the dateless and obviously friendless Cerrie was burning the candle at both ends from what she could see from outside of The Chronicle. A lantern burned in Reid’s office, so Rahne entered the building and called out as she made the trek to Reid’s office. “Cerrie, hold on to your ass girl, the shit has hit the ceiling in a majorly bad way! Reid’s been kidnapp--whoops,” the words died on Rahne’s lips as she realized that Cerrie was not alone in Reid’s office. Another was with her, a man with the warmest hazel eyes she had ever seen. Rahne sized him up quickly. He was tall and handsome with dark hair and tanned skin, and appeared to be near her own age, but looks could be deceiving. For a moment, the teenager almost forgot where she was and the use of her tongue to speak.

Rahne blinked violet eyes until the cobwebs in her head cleared. It took a moment but Rahne finally figured out that he must be the other reporter that Cerrie had mentioned in casual passing on her first few days in. Zaur, was it? Not wishing to play the part of fool, Rahne would wait for him to introduce himself to ensure she was correct about his name. “Oh, sorry if I startled you two,” Rahne flashed a smile to Zaur. “I’m Rahne, The Chronicle’s newest employee/do-girl. Nice to meet you.” The girl felt her cheeks burn as she was embarrassed at her earlier crass outburst, but willed herself to be a professional. “Anyway, not sure if you guys are aware or not, but the boss was taken. I heard people talking about it in the tavern I stay at. Some beefy goons came out of nowhere and snatched him. No one knows why or where they took him.”

Rahne frowned then and rocked on her heels, her arms folded across her chest. “Soooo....anyone have any suggestions on how to get Reid Feral back here where he belongs, because I’m totally at a loss at where to go from here.”

Cerrie suggested bringing out an Aleris world map and doing his seeking spell again. "I am sorry but, a world map is not detailed enough for me to home in on a single person's location. I simply do not have the skill necessary." When it came to combat spells Zaur was well trained. However, anything else was a new process for him. He did not have enough experience to have complete confidence in his mystical abilities, he was only eighteen after all. The therianthrope theorized he came from a time period several millennia in the past. This was due to the advanced technology he witnessed everyday in the foreign dimension he now resided in. Zaur had no hard evidence to support it but, something seemed truthful about that theory. He innately accepted it as fact despite lacking physical proof. He was still young, no matter how much time had passed without his conscious awareness.

While Zaur and Cerrie were discussing alternate plans for finding Reid Feral, Rahne made her presence known. His hazel orbs took in the slender built, five foot four inch, dark haired, and pale skinned young beauty with an open look of satisfaction. The girls words didn't catch him off guard since he smelled the clean scent of lye soap with a hint of fish, she must have eaten recently he supposed. At least the young woman understood hygiene unlike many humans he had encountered. The devoted mechanic Cerrie smelled of metal and grease. That was strange to him but, it was not an unpleasant smell at all. When Rahne told them of her information about the half breed editor he couldn't help smiling which showed off his even white teeth for both women to see. He quickly restored his face to a neutral expression, hiding his smile once more. The Magus bowed politely, and introduced himself to the woman. "Greetings Rahne, I am Zaur(Zaar) it is a pleasure to meet you."

The black haired man began speaking of her news next. "Well done Rahne, it may not be much but, this information will give us a place to start. The guards that witnessed the kidnapping will be able to assist us in locating the culprits." The lizard therianthrope gathered as much of Reid's loose hair as he could find in a short time, since ready tracking spell components could be of use to him at any time. After storing the precious items in an empty belt pouch Zaur prepared to leave. "If you two lovely women would like to come along that is fine. I just need assurance that eight foot three inch tall biped lizards will not scare you off in the middle of our investigation."

Cerrie looked at him as if he was insane, uncertain if she should laugh. However, the completely stern look in his eyes made her wonder. "Are you serious? I don't think such jokes are in good taste, please convince me your not drunk off your ass."

The therianthrope sighed and tried to clear up the matter. "I don't know my tolerance for Alerian alcohol, so I have avoided it so far. As for the other question I shall show you." It was then he shifted, muscles restructured and body hair melded into his rigid skin. Normally he gave no thought to clothes, so he was usually naked. However, for the sake of the two human women he left his soul bound leather pants in sight this time. Cerrie screamed reflexively but, she quickly regained composure. Zaur's now deeper voice with a rougher tone spoke then. "I am a pure blood therianthrope, so my bite carries no infectious bacteria." The muzzle full of razor sharp teeth was still very intimidating to most creatures even without venom. "Also, I do not have a separate mind, my thought process does not change no matter my form, like most other therianthropes seem to."

Cerrie had been working for a cat man for a while now so after the initial shock wore off she accepted the truth for what it was. "Well at least you're honest, people usually hide such things. However, I think I'll stay behind I'm tired and need rest."

With that answer the young Magi began chanting in his native language and reached a massive mossy green scaled hand into the back of his throat, and yanked a tooth out with a small cry of pain. "If you find yourself in need of help just call me while holding this tooth. I will return as soon as possible. I do not want any other problems with my fellow Chronicle employees being harmed, by misguided revenge minded people." The tooth had the smell of a summer rainstorm, and was dry and bloodless. "Rahne I await your answer?" His hazel eyes met her violet ones as he waited with muscular arms folded across his broad chest.

Rahne couldn’t help herself as she beamed broadly as a result of Zaur’s praise. So she was correct about his name and was pleased about that fact as well. When Zaur mentioned perhaps questioning the guards, Rahne’s initial pride faded as she mentally slapped herself for not thinking of that sooner. “Interrogate the guards, Zaur? Good thinking.”

Rahne watched with fascination as Zaur began gathering what she saw upon first glance as hair? Was that Reid’s hair? Violet eyes went wide. Was Zaur a mage of some sort? Would he attempt a locator spell for Reid? Rahne considered herself rather worldly and sophisticated, which was only delusional thinking in her own head, and was pleased to admit privately that she had some knowledge of otherwordly and mystical beings such as werewolves, vampires, ghouls, and mages. Heck her own mentor, the ice elemental Dravvin Kir, had taught her as much as possible before he just up and vanished on her, leaving the girl to her own defenses.

Zaur was readying himself to leave and inquired if the two young women wanted to join him. Rahne jumped on the chance to do whatever she could to find Reid, and it didn’t hurt that her partner in crime was her new hottie co-worker. So far, Cerrie hadn’t seemed interested in Zaur and that was fine by Rahne. Personally, Rahne believed Cerrie, while really sweet and smart, to be a sexless being, perhaps even part machine herself.

Rahne began checking her leather satchel to make sure she had a few needed supplies with her when Zaur mentioned something about really tall biped lizards. This stopped Rahne in her tracks, and with great curiosity, perked up considerably with interest. “Come again?” Rahne asked politely just as Cerrie chastised him for his ‘poor taste in jokes’. Zaur took this all in stride and began to shift his form, much to the delight of Rahne and the high pitched girly like scream of Cerrie.

The violet eyed girl scowled at the mechanical wonder, about to criticize her for such a child-like reaction to the extremely tall, hairless and toothy Zaur who stood now before them in what he previously claimed to be, a biped lizard, but thought better of it. After all, it was most likely that Cerrie was more into gadgets and gizmos and hardly the knowledgeable woman that Rahne was. “Relax Cerrie, sheesh.” To Zaur she breathed, “That was awesome! I’ve never seen a therianthrope change form before!” It was all Rahne could do to keep from bouncing up and down and clapping her hands together, to ask him to do it again. She was way more mature than that, but even Rahne squirmed and had to look away when Zaur began chanting then shoved his hand into his mouth and yanked out his own tooth. That...took balls. The girl gulped and glanced at Cerrie whom she swore was doing everything in her power not to spew chunks on Reid’s carpeted floor.

Rahne swallowed whatever bile was rising and remembered that Zaur had asked the two girls if they wished to accompany him. Her head bobbed up and down and she hastily agreed, fully prepared to skip-hop right out of The Chronicle when something occurred to her, forcing her to skid to a stop before she even left Reid’s office. Mumbling to herself, Rahne dug into her satchel and yanked out a few parchment sheets that were scattered with notes in her nearly illegible scribble. Rahne normally had decent handwriting, but when she was ‘undercover’ as she deemed herself when hanging out at the tavern, she tended to jot information down, not caring how neatly it was written.

Thrusting the parchments at Cerrie, Rahne smiled shyly, feeling the blush creeping up her neck. “Um, here. I was going to submit them to Reid for approval even though I figured I had no shot in hell to write the Rumors column, but since he isn’t here...,” Rahne shrugged, thinking it was worth a shot. “I mean, we still have a paper to run, right? Reid wouldn’t want us to slack off. Unless you had something else in mind?”

Cerrie briefly glanced at the papers and after a moment, a smile appeared. “This will do just fine. You two go on and see if you can discover Mr. Feral’s whereabouts, and I’ll get to work printing this...after I decipher this chicken scratch, that is.” Cerrie ignored Rahne’s scowl and sat down at Reid’s desk, already absorbed in her work.

Rahne turned to Zaur who stood there patiently waiting. “Ready when you are.”

Rahne returned to The Chronicle with a heaviness in her heart only to face Cerrie and deliver the bad news. Though she and Zaur had done their best to scour the City during the past week or so for Reid Feral, along with tireless and countless inquiries, they still hadn't managed to come up with any clues leading to the whereabouts of the Editor for The Chronicle. Rahne had left her teammate and fellow reporter, Zaur to see if he could come up with something, anything during a solo mission. Though Rahne hadn't given up on searching for Reid, the citizens of Aleris still required their news, and Rahne certainly wasn't about to let Reid down.

The teenager offered Cerrie a comforting pat on her shoulder and assured the other girl that Reid would be found, safe and sound, and as soon as possible. Rahne mustered a smile that never quite reached her eyes and slunk into Reid's office. During her little adventures out and about, she had picked up oodles of information about the on-goings of the Alerian people, which was great, but none had to do with Reid's kidnapping, which was not so great. Still, life went on, events both good and bad took place, and the news had to be reported.

Rahne sat down at Reid's desk and began to gather her thoughts. So much gossip, so little time to write it.

It had been a while since Reid had been home - if one could call The Chronicle's offices such a thing. It was, undoubtedly, the closest thing to home for him. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if anyone cared about his disappearance or if anyone was on the hunt to track him down. Due to the nature of his job, Reid was sure there was a slim chance that anyone had cared to go look for him, except Cerrie. Or maybe Zaur and the new employee they hired for reasons that their paycheck kind of relied on him being there.

In any case, his return and how he made it back to Grand City was a mystery even unto himself. But here he was, back in the city and away from that ship with the sweaty sailor smell and the oh-so-scary blood stains on the wall. Reid still wasn't positive what an Urf was or for that matter, why he had ever been taken on the Megalodon in the first place. Most likely it was to teach him some lesson which he was never taught while on his short duration aboard the ship.

Night hung over the city when Reid returned and it was quiet for the most part, some people lurking outside and wandering the streets doing whatever it was they were prone to doing at this hour. Reid took notice that the city was in much better shape these days; the construction was obviously going well and thankfully there hadn't been any additional senseless battles and wars since he left. At least not on Eiler anyway.

It came to his attention as he turned onto the street where The Chronicle building was that even though he had not been gone long, he had the nagging suspicion he had missed a lot somewhere out there in the realm of Aleris. There would be much news and gossip (of course, always the gossip) to catch up on. Reid hadn't determined if he was happy about his work load being heavier over the next week due to his absence, but putting it into perspective, at least he would be able to keep himself busy for some time.

After unlocking the front door to The Chronicle's office building, Reid noticed it was just as silent as it was outside. He crossed the printing machines, which were continuously well oiled and working thanks to Cerrie, and headed up the stairs towards his office. Reid made it there without being noticed by any of his employees, which he was currently grateful for since he didn't particularly feel like answering questions concerning his absence, especially since he did not know exactly why he had been taken in the first place.

However, once he opened the door to his office, he realized that he was not the only person in The Chronicle's office at this late hour. The new employee, Rahne, was in his office and she was slumped over his desk like a sack of potatoes snoozing away. Reid titled his head in question, noting the small puddle of drool forming around her open lips as she slept with her head planted on his desk. After a few minutes of chuckling quietly to himself, Reid cough loudly drawing a guttural-like sound from his throat (as if he had a hairball) to awaken the sleeping employee.

Rahne awoke with a start, apparently very surprised to see him, her violet colored eyes wide with surprise despite how laden they had been with sleep only seconds before. Reid tried to look serious, but his next actions and words would suggest that he was anything but. He gestured with a slight wave of his hand to the moisture that had collected on his desk.

"We're you crying for your poor, long lost boss? Or...?"

Reid then looked over to some of the papers that were scattered across his desk. He saw they were articles in The Chronicle and that they were recent. Reaching across his desk, Reid picked up one of the more recent newspapers and scanned through its contents, laughing lightly when he read over the gossip column. Reid couldn't say if he was happy or not about Rahne's ambition to write while he was gone, but he was certainly glad that someone had kept up with the news and that the rumors kept flowing, despite some people's dislike for them. His previously determined heavy workload had shrunk to a reasonable size now.

"Good work, Rahne," Reid said with a slight hint of an approving smile. "I hope you kept up with cleaning the toilets while writing these articles though."