"Rorschach." "Singrev, a Gold Level Adventurer."

Seeing that the other man was an Elf, Rorschach couldn’t help but ask, "I see this exhibition is trying to prove to visitors that Gray Elves are a barbaric and ignorant race. Don’t you, and your people, feel offended?"

After shaking hands with them both, Benedict put his gloves back on. "Mr. Rorschach, you’ve identified a problem, but you don’t understand the Istanis or the Elves." He flashed a flamboyant smile. "To most Elves, what you just said is the actual offense. For the Elves of the Kingdom’s mainland, we must never be lumped in with the Gray Elves. Those savages from El Island have another name, ’Mire Elves.’ Or to put it more bluntly: mudbloods."

As he said this, Benedict’s lighthearted expression vanished. "The exhibition has strayed from my original intent. So far, you’re the only one who has noticed the problem. The two of you aren’t familiar faces in Storm City, so you wouldn’t know that I’m an actor..."

"Aren’t you supposed to be the curator? How are you also an actor?" Singrev didn’t much care for this string bean of an Elf.

"My dear Dwarf, interrupting someone isn’t being direct, it’s just rude." He then turned to address Rorschach exclusively. "Most people on the Istani mainland don’t understand their neighbors on El Island. After the conquest, the island was treated as little more than a plantation. They eat the food grown by Gray Elves, all while scorning them as nothing but drunkards.

"I’m an actor, and I have something of a reputation in the theater, so I used my connections to organize this exhibition on the Gray Elves. I asked various socialites and dignitaries to lend items from their private collections for the public to see. But alas, one person can only do so much. Under the direction of the ’professionals,’ this is the result—nothing but prejudice and ignorance."

Rorschach could only offer his sympathies for Benedict’s lament. He was less interested in the Elf’s failed efforts than the information he’d revealed. "Mr. Benedict, you just called it the ’Danu Stone Tablet.’ Who or what is ’Danu’?"

"The native Divine Spirit of El Island, the mother of all gods." Benedict gave a brief overview of Gray Elf mythology—a classic tale of a female Creator. The goddess Danu had numerous children, all of whom possessed Divinity and Divine Power. They could travel through the mist and draw strength from nature. The Gray Elves once primarily worshiped and served the Danu Divine Race.

"At the end of the myth, Danu and Her children were defeated by Divine Spirits who came from the sea, and they vanished without a trace. Even now, some Gray Elves still believe Danu will return to save them. As for the Divine Spirits that came out of the sea..."

"Is?" Benedict was clearly alluding to the god of the ocean and storms.

The actor placed a finger to his lips. His upper lip was thin and so pale it was almost invisible. "Precisely."

’Danu... Could she be connected to Mother Earth?’ The descriptions were a near-perfect match. Rorschach wondered if he should travel to El Island.

As if reading his mind, Benedict immediately asked, "Thinking of going to El Island to see for yourself? I would strongly advise against it. The Kingdom goes to great lengths to keep people out of its granary, its muddy back garden—especially foreigners. You wouldn’t want to be detained as a spy, would you?"

With that, Benedict produced a business card. When Rorschach took it, he was surprised to see it was for a "Detective Agency."

The actor told the Mage, "If you’re truly interested in the Gray Elves, you can look me up. I’m always at the address on the card, unless I have a performance or rehearsal. If I’m not there, just go to the ’Golden Harp Theater.’ Everyone, from the old to the young, knows where that is."

Singrev scoffed, giving him a sidelong glance. "You’re not just some ticket tout, are you?"

"No, the card says ’Detective Agency’..." By this time, the three of them had strolled to the museum entrance. It was a weekday, and high noon, so there was no one else coming or going. The trio stood alone on the high platform before the main doors.

"Exactly." With the heavy topic concluded, the Elf’s flippant demeanor returned. He plucked the card from Rorschach’s hand, flipped it over, and pointed to the gilded name—the very one he’d introduced himself with, Benedict Kangqi. "An actor can play countless roles, and I happen to be particularly good at playing the detective. I’m practically a professional. If you don’t believe me..." Benedict sized Rorschach up again.

"Oh, you’re a Caster."

Singrev’s curiosity was piqued. Rorschach currently showed no signs of being a Caster and was dressed in perfectly ordinary clothes.

"Observe. Mr. Rorschach is gripping the head of his staff tightly. But you’re a young man who walks with a brisk and steady gait, so we can first rule out its function as a walking aid. Your attire is in the Valois style, but it’s not gaudy, and it clashes with the staff’s patterns and general character. That rules out it being for decoration.

"For self-defense, then? But when Mr. Rorschach grew tense, his grip matched neither the opening stance for a gentleman’s self-defense, nor the form for wielding a rapier. That leaves me with only one possibility... it’s a Magic Staff. So, may I ask, why are you suddenly so wary of me?"

Rorschach did not relax his guarded posture. As he drew closer to the Elf before him, he suddenly sensed an anomaly in the Ethereal Stream. Although his [Arcane Vision] detected nothing, he still perceived something unnatural about the man calling himself Benedict. The man was causing a constant, faint disturbance in the ambient Ether.

Without Rorschach’s control over the Ether and their close proximity, this tiny bit of dissonance would have been nearly impossible to detect.

In Rorschach’s assessment, the man was either a Caster or possessed a special item capable of concealing a Magic Aura. That, combined with an enthusiasm and forwardness that was excessive for an Istani, naturally put Rorschach on his guard.

"You’re no ordinary person."

Rorschach’s thumb pressed down on the pattern on his staff’s head, while Benedict gently stroked the crow’s skull on his ring.

"I told you from the start, I am an actor. There is also the obvious fact that I’m an Elf. Besides the system of power known as ’Druid,’ Elves have other traditions. For example, the ’Player.’

"There. Revealing this much to you in the territory of the ’Great Is’ should be enough to prove my sincerity. Because you possess a sense of justice that surpasses those civilized gentlemen, I would be delighted to be your friend. I look forward to our next meeting, Rorschach Mage."

With a jaunty air, Benedict turned and descended the marble steps as if tap-dancing, disappearing into the flow of hurried pedestrians.

Rorschach examined both sides of the card before putting it away in his Storage Ring. He didn’t follow Benedict down the steps; instead, he turned and headed back into the museum.

Singrev’s main purpose at the museum had been to see a friend’s relative, and he had already accomplished that. He didn’t understand what else there was to see inside. "Rorschach Mage, what are you going back in there for?"

"To transcribe the patterns on the stone tablet and any similar symbols on the other artifacts."

...

After he was done, Singrev led Rorschach to a fish and chips shop called "Mama Cindy’s" for a meal. The proprietress’s waistline and temper were both equally formidable. The food... was actually quite good. Rorschach discovered the shop’s secret weapon was its sauce, and the diced pickles within were the masterstroke. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Once they had eaten and drunk their fill, the two parted ways. Singrev still had to go to the Adventurer’s Guild to find a short-term job and scrounge up some money for booze. Rorschach was highly skeptical that the Dwarf, in his current broke state, could even scrape together the travel fare to the Istani Empire-Dwarf Federation.

The moment Rorschach stepped into his inn, the receptionist’s eyes lit up. "Master Mage, could you possibly do us a favor?"