[center][h2]Good Cop, Bad Cop[/h2][/center]

	Francis Bartago, sister of Drengant Bartago and assistant to Jole, was a fit and considerably dangerous dingo woman of the Daman lands. Certainly proud, certainly strong and certainly tied up. She stood strapped to a tree by excess ropes while her two assailants stood under the shadows of the canopy. Even with the light glinting off the snow, she couldn’t get a good look at their faces - but Renault and Fora could see her just fine.

	Safe in the shadows, Renault was rubbing his chin while he studied the woman. Fora stood by his side, no longer swathed in his cloak but having changed into a semi-proper outfit, made of excess materials from the emergency stash she had left in the area, and the bag that had been used as the stash itself, cut and bound until it became something close to a dress.

	Renault leaned to his side, so that Fora could hear his whisper without him taking his eyes off Francis. “So, a bit of a twist here. I’m starting to think it would have been better if we followed her to Jole — now we must seem like madmen.” He paused and looked his partner over. “Wearing the garbage is definitely not helping our case.”

	“At least I am wearing garbage by accident, some paladins out there wear armor that was out of fashion back when we still were using rock tools.” Fora answered bitterly. “And I am tired of this game, she won’t just run to Jole, it's best if we find her price, she doesn’t look like the honorable type.”

	“I’m not taking fashion advice from a nudist.” Renault stepped out of the shadows and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Francis cut him off.

	“Who are you?”

	“An interested party.”

	“Interested in what?”

	“Jole.”

	Francis raised her brow. “And why would you be interested in Jole?”

	“I hear he is the best there is,” Renault answered, “and I would like to employ him.”

	“He has too many enemies for me to believe that.” Francis twisted her face into a frown. Renault smirked and let loose a single laugh before reaching behind him. He snagged his wallet and tossed it in between him and his prisoner. 

	“Money doesn’t lie.” He crossed his arms. 

	Francis did her best to crane her neck and stared down. “It’s empty.”

	“Fora!’ Renault whined. “I thought you put the money back!?”

	“I said I was going to, when we were back at the main camp! I can do many things but I cannot teleport, not yet.” she answered before sighing. “Nevertheless, doesn’t bribing her only make us look more and more like hired assassins?”

	The pink tinted woman turned to the Damanlander, pressing her hands together. “But truly, we NEED what Jole has. Don’t you think it's a bit pathetic to be just one in the crowd, hiding away with backstreet shops? I know you sunborns don’t like just that, you all have your ambitions and long term purposes, what are yours? I work for powerful people, we could make you, your brother, Jole, the owners of this city, we could give you riches beyond your comprehension, and we could strike down your enemies, many of whom are ours as well.” with each word the magistrate leaned a bit closer to the tree.

	“Wait a tick picking minute,” Francis scrunched her nose. “Did you just call me pathetic!?”

	“No. I called the market pathetic, and pointed out that you did not fit in there.”

	“Well sor-ry that I don’t fit in to you,” Francis scoffed.

	“No, no!” Renault raised his hands. “She just means that you’re better than the average dingo!”

	Francis’ eyes widened. “Oh! So we are going there now!?”

	Fora raised an eyebrow. “What? Do you see yourself as average then? Mediocre?”

	“I [i]see[/i] myself as a proud and confident half-dingo who is currently tied to a tree and being barraged with questions by two racist, amatuer criminals who have no clue what they are talking about. Also why are you pink!?”

	“Because I like it, and in my land we can change color by drinking magical potions, we also don’t have clothes and our bathtubs are made of gold and gemstones.” Fora answered, clearly starting to form a grudge. “And I am sorry if we are a bit surprised at the fact you, a proud and confident dingo, is somehow indignant that we mentioned maybe you deserve something better than a small market stall that smells like fish.”

	“Wait!” Renault held out a pausing hand before turning to Fora. “[i]No-one[/i] wears clothes?”

	Fora looked at him with wide eyes and then they narrowed, as her whole face tensed. “Let's keep the questions to her, not me?”

	Francis blinked. “I guess I should have added pervert to the list.”
	
	“Quiet you.” Renault scowled. 

	“By all means.” Francis smiled.

	Renault slapped his own face. “That’s not what I meant! Listen, I was sent here by Queen Benea herself to retrieve the services of Jole — there, does that sound any better?”

	Francis’ eyes lit up. “You know Benea?” She looked at Fora. “You too?”

	“My side would be what I think your people call Sally.”

	“Oh… cool…” Francis said. 

	Fora held her words, sighed and nodded. “But yes, he is a paladin of Benea. Can you see why we sought your group now?”

	“Well yeah, that makes sense.” Francis nodded. “I can take you guys to Jole.”

	There was a moment of silence, Fora nodded and turned to Renault, whispering. “Hey, Renault, one question. When you proposed the kidnapping, did you make sure diplomacy was not an option?”

	Renault turned to Fora. “Pretty sure it was your idea.”

	“I SAID IF WE HAD NO OTHER…” she stopped and took a deep breath. “Okay, you know what, whatever, let us focus on Jole. Where can we find them?”

	“Um.” Francis wriggled under the rope. “I’d show you but I’m a little tree-occupied.”

	Fora rubbed her chin. “I guess Renault could carry you again. Wouldn’t want a proud dingo to tire herself.”

	Francis looked up at Renault, who gave a sheepish grin. The dingo-lady squinted at Fora. “You’re going to have the pervert hold me?”

	“He is all bark and no bite, don’t you worry.” she waved off. “If he can’t make a move on plant girls who are blooming in his presence, he won’t do a thing to you.”

	“And here I thought you were about to defend my honor.” Renault deflated. “Alright then, let’s get to it.”

[hider=Summary]
A short post in which Fora and Renault try and mostly fail to interrogate the dingo woman who holds information about the mysterious master ambrosia-crafter Jole, thankfully, it seems she was swayed by learning Renault works for Benea.
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