Information
Fyodor has a minion!
Minion the Zeel
Minion the Zeel
Fyodor
Legacy Name: Fyodor
The
Chibi CadogreOwner:
MollyAge: 12 years, 8 months, 1 week
Born: August 12th, 2011
Adopted: 12 years, 8 months, 1 week ago
Adopted: August 12th, 2011
Statistics
- Level: 1
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
You step into the street. A young boy bolts down the road and crashes right into you.
"Woah, sorry mister, I mean, ma'am, I mean - owww." He falls on the ground and wails, clutching his knee.
You bend over to help him and as he stands up, you feel him slide your pocket watch from your jacket pocket. You catch his arm, take back your watch, and demand an explanation.
"Sorry, it's nothing personal, just need to make some extra money, you know. Come on, look at the way you're dressed, it's not like you would've missed it. Oh, you're a cop? Hey, I'm really sorry, I didn't know."
The boy looks familiar, but you can't place it. You decide to let him off, hoping that he'll give you some information in return.
Alright, alright. I guess I owe you one. My name's Fyodor. I live just down the road, with my grandmother. I want to be a locksmith when I grow up; I've been practicing with a set of picks this guy Jeremias gave me, but for now I'm just picking pockets to get by. Whenever the carnival comes to town, I help out, cleaning animal cages and stuff, 'cause between you and me, it's so easy to pick pockets from audience members. I just hide under the bleachers and walk along underneath while people are preoccupied. And the best part? They never stay in one place for long, and people forget that they "misplaced" that one item. I usually sell the stuff quickly, 'cause hanging on to stolen goods too long is never a good idea. My best friend, Suzanne, she doesn't like me stealing stuff, says she doesn't even like seeing it around, so I try to keep her out of it.
Hey, I don't know anything about a murder. I could barely walk ten years ago, after all. But I can tell you something about a man that lives in the doctor's house, if it's information you're after. He's a shady fellow, in my opinion. Rich, definitely, or used to be; all his clothes are like yours, all fancy, and he always wears this stupid fedora. I don't know his name, but I've seen him go into that house at night, so I think he lives there. It's right down the road, if you want to check it out. But you want to know the weirdest part about that guy? Every time the carnival's in town, he comes to see the show. Like, not once or twice, but every single time for the past ten years. I've heard stories about him from the performers. It's pretty creepy. Suzanne, she's a trapeze swinger, right? He always watches her. And he's like, really old. Like you. So, that's why I think he's weird.
I stole this from him the other day. I tried to sell it, but no one wants it. You can have it, I guess. Like I said, it isn't smart to hang on to stuff like that for long.
Feodor hands you a locket with the letters SLF engraved.
{Head to the carnival} {Go to the doctor's house} {Continue to the Last Coin Tavern}
"Woah, sorry mister, I mean, ma'am, I mean - owww." He falls on the ground and wails, clutching his knee.
You bend over to help him and as he stands up, you feel him slide your pocket watch from your jacket pocket. You catch his arm, take back your watch, and demand an explanation.
"Sorry, it's nothing personal, just need to make some extra money, you know. Come on, look at the way you're dressed, it's not like you would've missed it. Oh, you're a cop? Hey, I'm really sorry, I didn't know."
The boy looks familiar, but you can't place it. You decide to let him off, hoping that he'll give you some information in return.
Alright, alright. I guess I owe you one. My name's Fyodor. I live just down the road, with my grandmother. I want to be a locksmith when I grow up; I've been practicing with a set of picks this guy Jeremias gave me, but for now I'm just picking pockets to get by. Whenever the carnival comes to town, I help out, cleaning animal cages and stuff, 'cause between you and me, it's so easy to pick pockets from audience members. I just hide under the bleachers and walk along underneath while people are preoccupied. And the best part? They never stay in one place for long, and people forget that they "misplaced" that one item. I usually sell the stuff quickly, 'cause hanging on to stolen goods too long is never a good idea. My best friend, Suzanne, she doesn't like me stealing stuff, says she doesn't even like seeing it around, so I try to keep her out of it.
Hey, I don't know anything about a murder. I could barely walk ten years ago, after all. But I can tell you something about a man that lives in the doctor's house, if it's information you're after. He's a shady fellow, in my opinion. Rich, definitely, or used to be; all his clothes are like yours, all fancy, and he always wears this stupid fedora. I don't know his name, but I've seen him go into that house at night, so I think he lives there. It's right down the road, if you want to check it out. But you want to know the weirdest part about that guy? Every time the carnival's in town, he comes to see the show. Like, not once or twice, but every single time for the past ten years. I've heard stories about him from the performers. It's pretty creepy. Suzanne, she's a trapeze swinger, right? He always watches her. And he's like, really old. Like you. So, that's why I think he's weird.
I stole this from him the other day. I tried to sell it, but no one wants it. You can have it, I guess. Like I said, it isn't smart to hang on to stuff like that for long.
Feodor hands you a locket with the letters SLF engraved.
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