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Oriane tapped her finger on the side of the perfume bottle, holding it up to the light to see how much was left. Same amount… nothing had been tampered with.
Her pseudodragon clinked across a pile of books stacked neatly at the tent’s side, scattering the flap with sparkles of indigo light.
“Where do you think it’s gone, Sappho?” Oriane murmured, setting the perfume back in its holder. Her hands brushed over the necklace at her chest, as if to check it was still there. She hadn’t taken it off - no reason to worry.
The sapphire familiar shook her shoulders, no response.
“Do you think I left it somewhere?” She asked, claws still fiddling with her necklace. She could have sworn she’d picked up that jar last time she camped.
Sappho huffed.
“You are feeling helpful today.” Oriane flicked her tail in annoyance and wandered out into the camp, brushing through the tent flap with a ruffle of fabric. Perhaps it wasn’t such a big deal; she hadn’t been storing anything in it, but it could have been useful for spell components later. What if someone like Gale needed it?
“Good afternoon, Oriane.”
Speak of a devil.
“Good afternoon, Gale,” she replied, turning her head towards the wizard. Her dark eyes adjusted to the daylight, and she squinted at his purple robe. So bright.
“Did you find the solution to your problems in your tent?”
“Not quite. I only came up with more.”
“Shame. You’ve been in there all morning.”
Her ears perked up slightly. The sun was past its peak. Her tail flicked behind her… had she truly been in there all morning?
“What ails you so?”
“I lost an item… not too important, but it was large enough.”
“Did you check with Astarion? I know he has quite… sticky fingers.” He made a few gestures as he spoke, eyes wandering over to the man’s cushy tent.
Oriane shook her head. “I doubt he would have any reason to take it, except… blood storage.” She grimaced. It was still odd to know they had a vampire in camp - spawn or not.
“Ah. It was not too important, was it?”
“No.” But any supplies here are crucial. “I won’t let it bother me. We have other things to worry about, and a missing jar is the one I would choose over anything else.”
He pondered for a moment, hand going to his short beard. “Now that I think of it, I myself have been missing a few things.”
“Oh?” Her ears perked up. So far, knowing he was losing track of things as well was certainly cause for alarm. Perhaps the tadpole was making their memories foggy..?
“Vinegar, and salt. An odd combination. One would think that someone in camp desires some sort of chips.”
Oriane chortled.
“Perhaps we used it at the party, some poor sod mistook it for wine.”
“I did hear Astarion complaining about the quality… Maybe that was what he was drinking.”
She smiled at Gale, tail flicking behind her.
“Or was my jar magical, and you needed something to munch on?”
He laughed. “If I had known if it was magical, the orb would have absorbed it long ago, instead of more valuable trinkets.” His eyes widened. “But not without permission, of course.”
“I will not assume you are a thief, don't worry.”
“Pleasant to hear.”
Sappho slithered out of the tent and flapped into the air, landing on Gale’s shoulder. Her body clinked through the air like a glass wind chime, gems sparkling in the light. He jumped slightly, but otherwise remained still.
“Oh, hello there,” he mused.
“Sappho,” Oriane scolded.
“She's alright, don't worry. I've grown quite fond of seeing her around camp, you know.”
“She must like the shine of your earring.” Oriane stepped up beside Gale and raised a hand to scratch the pseudodragon on his shoulder.
“Mystra’s symbol is quite alluring to many.”
She removed her hand.
“Oh, I am sure.”
“If I lose it, I will be sure to check her hoard.”
“Her hoard is in my tent.” Oriane took Sappho off his shoulder, and the little dragon gave a hiss of protest.
“Is your hoard in there too?” Gale chuckled, placing his hands on his hips.
“Maybe. I only show my most trusted companions my treasures.”
“An adventurer has already broken into your lair.”
Oriane chuckled. “Clearly. I will have to set up some wards.”
“I can help you with that, if desired?”
She shook her head. “No need. We will be moving too soon for wards to be useful.”
“Next time we make camp, then, perhaps?”
She gave Gale a pleasant, slightly mischievous smile. “Maybe. It would make it easier if you are the culprit.”
Gale feigned a gasp. “Accusing me of a heinous crime? How acrimonious!”
Oriane made a sound, tsk-tsking as she stepped back towards her resting place.
“Well, I had better get packing. You should as well.”
Gale nodded, giving her a wave. “We’ll be out of here soon. I will keep an eye out for your jars.” And with that, he walked off into the camp. There would be no sign of the culprit - but at least she was sure it wasn’t Gale.