Oz didn't believe in this Oracle bullshit.

There was no possible way that an Oracle would be able to help her with her problem. Sure, there was magic in this world that Oz begrudgingly coexisted in, but fortune tellers were nothing but mumbo jumbo liars, waving fancy cards in front of your face like an idiot.

But so far, Oz hadn't a clue where to go. She'd been to damn near every apothecary (which she loathed doing as well, considering the magical works behind every potion) around. Every last one of them only had things that could stall the infection, but nothing that could cure it. Oz figured that, by visiting an Oracle, she could find another lead. Maybe this crackpot had friends in high places. At least, Oz hoped so.

She made her way through the crowds none too gracefully, forcing herself around them and shoving multiple out of the way. A huge, lit pipe hung from her lips, trailing whispering smoke behind her. Oz hated big crowds, and this one was no exception. She glared at every passerby that dared look at her, keeping one hand on the pipe and blowing gray smoke in their faces, forcing them into a coughing fit. It gave her at least a slight amount of satisfaction.

Much to her chagrin, there was already a big group at the door. A motley crew of youngsters, just recently accompanied by a rather intimidating-looking old man. Oz raised a thick black eyebrow in irritation, looking not unlike a caterpillar crawling up her face. Her thin-lipped mouth set into a frown as she growled lightly, expressing her distaste. Part of her wanted to wait until they all left, but she just wanted to get the whole thing over with. Oz opted to lean against the wall of the building, folding her arms and closing her eyes.
There was a brief silence after Oz arrived. Then there was a noise of stomping from just behind the door and it was flung open to reveal an elderly man. He was bent over slightly; his white hair crowned his bare head and some of it formed a very short goatee at the bottom of his chin. He wasn't using a cane, but the loose clothes he wore and his posture would have still made him look feeble if not for the activity of his face, indicating quite a bit of frustration, if not outright rage.
"Who the H*** are you people and what do you want!?" he screamed at the random assortment. "I'll have you know I was in the middle of something very important."

"Pardon, but--are you the oracle or not?" said Cinderbelle, her tone changing entirely not far into the sentence.

"Oracle?" he said, pausing and looking around as if slightly surprised before returning to his rant, suddenly pacing around and practically yelling in each person's ear in turn. "What is wrong with you lot!? Are you idiots? Don't you talk to people? Haven't you heard anything!?"
"Well, um--"
"QUIET! RESPECT YOUR ELDERS!" Karyn's already-hesitant response was interrupted by the old man yelling in his face. "And clean up sometime, you look like something my cat dragged in. My dead cat. Now listen, because I don't repeat myself. My magical lens, the only item indispensable to directing my sight to seeing anything useful in anyone's future or past, was stolen two days ago. Since my job is looking into the king's future and warning him of assassination attempts, much of the town guard is busy keeping him safe, so there's not enough of them to search for it. I was trying to force myself to see just who stole it and where, before I was rudely interrupted."
Darn you, Cinder, Cinderbelle wanted to slap Cinder into submission at the moment for such a stupid question. Of course it was the Oracle! Cinderbelle retorted at Cinder, who merely stuck out his tongue and then backed down for now. Afterwards, she listened to the angry old Oracle, listening to his dilemma and why he couldn't tell them their fortunes. Ah, I see, Cinderbelle thought to herself as she moved her red hair out of her eyes so that she could see better.

"Well, we could help you look around town, that is, if it's alright with you people," Cinderbelle started speaking to the Oracle before turning to the others. "Sorry for the outburst earlier," Cinderbelle faced the Oracle again and apologized.
Count Jerral stood up as the Oracle finished speaking. "Very well, I will find the lens." He then walked off. Heading to a tavern in a poor part of the city, called the Merlin.

He lazily beckoned at the others to follow him.
The old man didn't seem to respond to the apology--well, aside from a slight indiscernible look at Cinderbelle, for just a second...and then one of the two people who had just shown up at the door started walking away. "Er, wait a minute...Hey! Shouldn't we look for clues here first or something?" said Karyn after him
The oracle chuckled, a somewhat mocking chuckle that really didn't betray any happiness.
"Heh heh. You do have a brain, I see. Th'clues are long gone, though, I already looked at 'em and the town guard--or what's left of it--took 'em."
"Well, then you must know something about what happened, right? I mean, didn't you see it coming?"
"No. Prophecy-focusing objects can't look at themselves, it's one of the thousands of idiotic rules that come with the profession."
Quite simply, Oz couldn't care less about a goddamn lens. She ignored much about what the Oracle had to say about its capabilities, for the old man didn't exactly give her much of a reason to believe that he was even remotely capable of looking into the future. All she saw was a senile idiot that thoroughly enjoyed griping to anyone within earshot. A complete attention seeker. Either way, she'd rather have answers immediately.

While Cinderbelle offered to help the Oracle find the lens, and while the towering Count Jerral tried beckoning them all to immediately run off on a possible red herring, Oz took a puff of her pipe and nonchalantly blew it in the Oracle's face.

"Bitch to someone else, old man Know of any good alchemists around here?" Her raspy voice was rather quiet, and slightly difficult to hear, especially with the pipe still hanging from her lips. "And I don't mean no usual, cheap-ass, run-of-the-mill alchemist. I need a real one."
The old man started to turn on the blacksmith, but stopped suddenly, looking at her for a few seconds with an unusual amount of interest, yet...without quite focusing on her. His expression changed completely for those instants, but after he blinked he shook his head, as if the somewhat kinder expression had been some dust on his face and was back to normal. "I'll have you know Indris arrests imposter alchemists, so you won't find any fake ones. But one that can do what you want is rare if he exists at all. If I were you I'd stop looking for alchemists and just.."
He had been building up to something, it seemed, but now he looked around again, seeming to remember there were other people present, and gave up on whatever it was. "Just forget it," he amended, somewhat more sedately than usual.
"Ah, I see," Cinderbelle said, a slight bit of dissapointment in her voice. "Well, do you people have anywhere else to go?" Cinderbelle asked the others as she adjusted her bonnet.

The air was less tense since she had already known some of the people that were in her presence. However, she did not know of the seemingly rude woman, or of the other man that had arrived and then had left in search of clues. She subsequently decided to speak to the girl.

"Hello, ma'am. My name is Cinderbelle. What would be yours?" Cinderbelle addressed the new girl that had come to the door of the Oracle's building.
Count Jerral opened the door to the Merlin. He walked up to the counter and sat down, the bartender was an old friend of his, one of the first whenever he came to this city. When the bartender was done with his current customer he came over to Count Jerral.

"Greetings Count, been quite a while." He said casually, giving him an ale at the same time.

"Indeed, but it can not be helped, I fear it will be much longer before I see you again. That aside, I am need of a lens grinder." Jerral replied.

"So, you finally plan to do it," The bartender sighed, "Well, I promised my help then, I'll keep it now. A good lens grinder is hard to find, but the best can be found in the rich district, but only the richest of nobles can find him."

Jerral drank his ale quickly and payed for it. "Thank you friend, you have helped me more than I could ever repay.

Count Jerral then went out of the Merlin to try to find the others looking for the oracle's lens.