(Arc 1-2) Wine, women and growing pains!

[Anastasia]

> A few days of rest have passed. The peak of the week is gone, yet the sun still shines bright. Even in the winter the emerald green waters of the bay glisten, the sky a pale, faded blue that contrasts with the aqua below it - but none of that matters. It's all duty right now, as Shamal and Seira come to the meeting room again. But Lyselle and Berlioz are not here yet, nor is Commander Oberuth. Instead a squirrly little knight is here, puffed out cheeks and a fidgety way to him. "Aaah." He pushes against the bridge of his nose, "That's two of you now?"
> puffed out cheeks and a fidgety way to him. "Aaah." He pushes against the bridge of his nose, "That's two of you now?"
> He sits at the hard wood meeting table, a few parchments spread out around him. "That's half of the special elite Crimson Guard team..." he frowns, checking his sheets again. "It's unbecoming for one to be late..."
<Seira> "Are we to wait for the others?" Seira asks him.
<Shamal> "We came as quickly as we could, sir," Shamal demurs gently. "I'm sure Berlioz and Lyselle must be on their way already."
> "Mmm, no, Commander Oberuth left two things for you to do." He shuffles again, rubbing his forehead. HIs voice is a bit too high pitched, almost childlike. "My name isn't Telk if I can't find this...oh!" A parchment in particular is chosen, "There are two things, yes."
* Makoto is now known as Signum
> "First of all, there's an official coming in by boat after a long trip away that needs an offical greeting and the like. Commander Oberuth sends his apologies, but he's detained, blah blah blah, a lackey gets to do it," So he nods to that, "That's one of them. I suppose only one or two of you would need to do that, which works since there's another task."
<Shamal> "What is the other task, Sir Telk?" Shamal asks patiently, not especially minding the diplomatic work, even if 'lackey' sounds so unbecoming.
<Seira> "I have trained for the past four years to become the best lackey I could be, Sir," Seira says blandly.
* Shamal stifles a giggle at Seira's statement.
> "Here!" As he gets the last paper, he reaches into his shirt and takes off an emblem. A familiar emblem, the diplomat's emblem of Malmuth recently recovered. "With this we can gather try and gather some information from the Malmuth merchants and the like in town. Oh, and good," Telk nods brisquely to Seira, "It's good to see such discipline!"
<Seira> If the knight expects further response from Seira, he is to be introduced to the cruel reality. She is content to simply let him speak.
<Shamal> "So we are to impersonate officials from Malmuth?" Shamal raises an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I'm rather well known among the merchants, so I'm not sure I could participate in such a ruse..."
> "Yes, I'm not sure of your usefulness here...but the Commander seems confident..." He trails off, then shrugs. "Oh well. I suppose magic users can make it work if anyone."
<Shamal> "Perhaps..." Shamal murmurs, not wanting to disillusion the young man as to the wonders magic is capable of. "We can see if Berlioz and Lyselle have any ideas when they arrive."
<Seira> "I'm confident my ears will go unnoticed," Seira agrees. "Is there any specific information we are to try and gather?"
> To this he shrugs, pushing at his forehead again, "I hope so. Three magic users working together...! Hm? Oh yes..." A pause again, "To quote the Commander, "Find information relating to recent Malmuth activities in general, political situation and any dealing with the...hm. The elven kingdom past the barbarian lands? Interesting." Halfway through he stops, going off on his own curiosity filled jag.
<Shamal> "Well... where the merchants prove recalcitrant, I can always ask their pets and steeds," Shamal nods to herself, ignoring the knight for now. "No one ever watches what they say around animals, after all."
* Berlioz (assis_san@201.22.134.199.adsl.gvt.net.br) has joined #dunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +o Berlioz
> As an uncomfortable, waiting silence spreads across the room? There is finally a break. Berlioz enters! The busy knight/errand boy looks up, puffy cheeks puffing out even further. "Well, that's at least another. What about the last?"
<Berlioz> "I wouldn't know myself, haven't seen Lyselle around these last few days", Berlioz blankly remarks.
> "Yes, yes then," Telk gestures to a seat, "There are two tasks for you today - either information gathering or being part of an official greeting for as hip coming in today."
* Hello-Nightbug (assis_san@201.47.162.144.adsl.gvt.net.br) has joined #dunes
* Berlioz (assis_san@201.22.134.199.adsl.gvt.net.br) Quit (NickServ (GHOST command used by Hello-Nightbug))
* Hello-Nightbug is now known as Berlioz
* ChanServ sets mode: +o Berlioz
* Berlioz sits down, sighing and nodding, arms folded. "Well. What is about the information gathering you need?"
> "Information on what Malmuth is up to." Putting the diplomat's emblem down on the table, "This should help - gather information about what Malmuth is up to in general, as well as anything about the elves and Malmuth."
<Shamal> "It is a bit optimistic to think that average merchants here in Balmuria would know about Malmuth's long range diplomatic plans, but I suppose it cannot hurt to try," Shamal reasons, shrugging eloquently.
<Berlioz> "I agree. The best we can get from the merchants in here is a vague lead, and it probably wouldn't be healthy to instill a direct assault. We'll have to get by with their incoherent babble."
<Seira> "Whatever the consequences would be, this course of action had been dictated to us by the Commander," Seira interjects.
> "Yes indeed," Telk nods, clicking his tongue very loudly. "\
<Shamal> "Well, I'm happy enough with meeting the ship or helping with the information gathering. Do either of you have any preferences?" Shamal asks her friends, privately wondering what's keeping Lyselle so long.
* Berlioz shakes his head, conveniently ignoring the imperial mutt. "Certainly. What we need to devise is the means to the ends, as of now. The idea itself is sub-optimal, but... eh. I'll work on the gathering of information, seems like I'd be better suited for this than a diplomatic meeting anyway."
* Hotaru (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) has joined #dunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +ao Hotaru Hotaru
* Hotaru is now known as Lyselle
> "Very well," Said mutt stands and presents the emblem to Berlioz. As this happens, Lyselle finally enters, the last of the four here! "Ah, finally."
> In the room are the other three and a puffy cheeked, slightly short knight. He walks slowly, giving Lyselle an annoyed glare. "I have your instructions from Commander Oberuth since he's otherwise occupied today."
* Lyselle gives the little knight a frank, rather cold look in response to his glare, a flat plane of pale skin and violet eyes meeting him. "Since you already seem ornerous about timing, then mayhaps you should divest them?" she suggests, taking a seat and smoothing her uniform.
> "Excellent.
> OOC - Gah.
> "Excellent." AT this he does just that. "You have two tasks - an official greeting for a shipbound visitor, or gathering information on Malmuthian activity."
<Shamal> "I'll take part of the official greeting," Shamal volunteers after a moment's thought. "If my assistance is needed later for gathering information, you can but ask, of course," she smiles at the others.
<Lyselle> "Alright..." Lyselle allows, glancing around at the others. "Are we forseeing a need for spilled blood or riot suppression in the process of acquiring information?"
> "I would hope not!" The official squawks quite loudly, Telk looking aghast. "This is information gathering, not pitched battle!"
<Seira> "One should hope not," Seira echoes simultaneously, though she is less loud about it.
<Lyselle> "I'm just asking my colleagues opinions," Lyselle points out calmly, smiling. "There are many places full of information that can be...less than inviting."
> "Well, don't do that - the fighting, that is! If an 'off duty' Crimson Guard members getin a fight with a MAlmuth citizen, it'll still have the chance to be a headache!"
<Seira> "I will join you in the gathering of information," Seira volunteers suddenly, nodding at Berlioz.
* Berlioz nods in agreement. "I'm fine with that, Seira."
<Seira> "Will there be anything else?" she asks of the knight.
<Lyselle> "I guess I'd best form a part of the welcoming parade," Lyselle shrugs, smiling lightly. "Are we on duty or off for this?"
> "On duty for the greeting, off for the information," A nod from Telk, getting up, "If all of you are ready..." With that he scurries out the door and away.
* Seira sighs. "How much time do you need to prepare?" she asks Berlioz.
* Shamal takes a second to straighten out her coat to best display her official emblem before she picks up the parchment to see just who they're greeting and when.
> Shamal sees it - Lord Khardon, Colonel of the United Baronies Army. OOC - You can take a local knowledge check on that if you have it.
<Shamal> OOC: I lack it
> OOC: Okay then.
<Shamal> "Anyone know who Lord Khardon is?" Shamal asks offhandedly while everyone is still there.
<Seira> roll 1d20+9 Maybe!
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+9 Maybe! and gets 26."12 [1d20=17]
<Lyselle> "Uhm..." Lyselle taps her lips, frowning as she goes back through heraldry and history of the various noble houses to try and think of a connection.
> OOC - Eh, I'll give you a check there since it's sorta relate.d
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+8 and gets 22."12 [1d20=14]
<Seira> "He is a war hero, and a great leader. His straregy proved successful several times." Seira pauses, thinking. "He has been away for the past few years."
<Shamal> "Probably best if you take the lead on this one then, Lyselle," Shamal grins, handing the parchment over to her more martial minded friend. "Anyway, shall we be off?"
<Seira> "Good luck," Seira says with a touch of longing in her voice, before she resumes waiting for Berlioz's answer.
> OOC - WE'll move Shamal and Lyselle - the GREETING TEAM - into #evil.
* Lyselle takes it, sighing notably and giving her nature oriented comrade a wry look. "He's not even of an old house..." she murmurs, shrugging and standing. "May as well be off then," she agrees, making sure her uniform is in place, though not making her own house symbol particularly obvious. These types rarely cared about your pedigree.
<Berlioz> "Well... I think this is best taken in forays. We head for the merchants now and casually gather some info. If anything suspicious arises, we expand from there", Berlioz considers while glancing at the emblem. "I prefer obtaining my information in forays and pieces, but you might want to differ."
<Seira> "You do not wish to change out of uniform before pretending to be an agent of Malmuth?" she asks evenly.
* Berlioz snickers. "Well, yes. We should change our clothings for this, at least."
<Seira> "A mutual cover story would be very efficient," she continues. "And an agreed-upon signal to conceal me or otherwise divert attention from myself would prove most useful."
* Berlioz nods. "We can elaborate on that while we get ready. Do you think we should pick up a magical disguise? I'm not sure if this warrants such a maneuver, but we might want to stay on the safe side of things."
* Seira frowns. "Sadly, I do not have yet the means to disguise myself with magic. Do you?"
<Berlioz> "I have a couple scrolls handy for this. However, we won't be able to disguise ourselves later if we use them right away. We might need them for a more thorough research later."
<Seira> "Agreed," she responds. "Meet me by the barracks in twenty minutes, then."
* Berlioz nods. "Should be enough time to dress into a less formal attire."

---Path split here, each posts covers one path---

[Anastasia]

---Berlioz and Seira---

> So the two gather. They gather in front of the barracks, prepared. The main road into the city and into the center where the trading is and such is the likely goal! OOC - Set yourselves up going or whatever and then we'll roll along.
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) Quit (NickServ (GHOST command used by Hotaru-chan))
* Hotaru-chan is now known as Lyselle
* Seira adjusts her straw hat to cover her ears, and then offers her arm to Berlioz. "Shall we be on our way?" she asks.
* Berlioz coughs, in an unassuming traveler attire, and glances. "I'll assume this is part of our disguise...", he murmurs while blinking. "Fine. Just don't attach to my arm tightly."
<Seira> "I shall make a supreme effort to control myself," she deadpans, before a bright, innocent smile blossoms across her lips.
> The streets are busy - at first with soldiers and garrison men going about, leading horses and the like. But soon you reach the main streets - busy and bustling! The life of the border city is here! Bakeries drift pleasant smells out from open window, luring many. Blacksmiths display proud wares, ready to be purchased with coin. INns advertise about, a long strip of activity. Traders come and go, most dressed in rich if somewhat trailworn clothes.
>  most dressed in rich if somewhat trailworn clothes.
* Hotaru-chan (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) has joined #dunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +ao Hotaru-chan Hotaru-chan
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) Quit (NickServ (GHOST command used by Hotaru-chan))
* Hotaru-chan is now known as Lyselle
* Berlioz sighs upon the bustling sight of the border city's livelier side, shaking his head with a slight blink. "This is one of the reasons I don't go out much. It's like watching a circus on fire", he lets out in a soft murmur.
* Seira keeps that happy smile on her face, though the corners of her lips twitch a little at his words. "Would you prefer that I do the talking?" she offers just as softly.
<Berlioz> "It'd... be practical, yes. Knowledge of the local hubbub isn't exactly my forte."
* Seira nods, and tries to listen to snippets here and there as she walks through the market, her mind filtering out any words other than those pertaining to elves, Malmuth or emissaries.
> OOC - Gathering information checks go, I think.
<Seira> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+6 and gets 11."12 [1d20=5]
* Berlioz sharpens his senses for any useful snippet of information about Malmuth's affairs regarding the elves and emissaries.
<Berlioz> roll 1d20+10 for information bonanza!
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+10 for information bonanza! and gets 13."12 [1d20=3]
<Berlioz> 1d20+10 reroll for good luck and info
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+10 reroll for good luck and info and gets 26."12 [1d20=16]
> A few hours pass as you search around. At first your efforts come to naught - lunch is had and a break. But shortly after, Belioz's deft ears catch attention. It's a wealthy merchant, craggy faced and old. A few people trail behind him, an entourage of sorts. As they go into an inn, 'Liberty Point', you can hear him talk, "...even if so," he grunts, "The elves aren't a matter."
* Berlioz raises an eyebrow, biting his lips. He takes a second and murmurs to Seira. "The craggy-faced merchant. He seems to know something we may want."
* Seira doesn't visibly respond, but does begin to steer Berlioz towards 'Liberty Point', looking much like the part of a parched girl!
* Berlioz somewhat forcibly is led by Seira, slightly groaning. She's probably having a lot more fun than she'd have any right to...
> The inn that you follow into is a fine place. Tables of recently polished wood are here, servant girls thatsmell of soap and not sweat going about. Animal heads and taxidermy hangs on the wall, the scent of cooking food in the air. The merchant and his entourage go the front desk, talking to a clerk there.
* Berlioz moves forward quietly, staying behind the merchant in order to pick up the conversation a bit more. It'd be inappropriate to just nag the old man head on, not to mention suspicious.
* Seira looks for a table close enough to catch a snippet or two.
> The first bit of conversation is easy enough, spoken easily. 20 some gold for a few days of lodging  here for him and his 'friends', as well as a meal. They then go to one of the nice tables, one in a corner and not very near any others.
* Seira will just have to place trust in her ears, for now!
<Seira> As she sits by her table, awaiting a waitress to arrive, Seira's smile doubles in brilliance. She tilts her head, looking at Berlioz, and uses their pre-arranged, innocuous signal for him to set up a distraction!
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) Quit (-=SysReset 2.53=-)
* Berlioz awkwardly coughs. Wait... this is an idea. He begins to cough louder and louder, straining his cords, so the entire tavern will notice!
* Seira drops her head into her hands, doing her best to shrink away from the world as far as anyone looking can see.
> As Berlioz hacks, a few eyes go to him. "Leper!" one calls, a note of disgusted annoyance. The craggy faced merchant glances up, giving Berlioz a glare. The clerk comes around, starting to approach. "Sir?" he says, keepin ga good distance.
* Seira stands up, and noticing the merchant's glare, hesitantly approaches his table. "Excuse me, Sir," she says in a small voice. "Would you terribly mind if I borrowed some water for that man?" Seira glances up at him hopefully.
* Berlioz coughs loudly, doing his best to impersonate a choking soul. "Ack! Urk... I... COUGH COUGH...", he stutters, lowering his head a bit and holding to the table tightly.
> A mug of water is thrust at Seira, "By all means," he rumbles, as the younger ones make nasty faces at him.
> The clerk shakes his head, "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to...Sir?"
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) has joined #dunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +ao Lyselle Lyselle
<Seira> "Oh, thank you so much!" she gushes. "It is such a terrible embarrassment, oh, and he's bothering everyone now...." Seira shakes her head, starting to move back for their table. "I don't know why I stay with him...."
* Berlioz grabs the clerk by the collar and collapses in a heavy cloud of coughing and hacking. His life seems endangered! Quick, someone fetch him water! (In a vague thought, maybe Berlioz should've tabledanced or something more subtle...)
> The clerk just stares, aghast and making no noises!
> "Hurry up and give it to him, by the Gods!" The old merchant calls, "The man's choking on himself!"
* Seira rushes over with the water, careful not to spill anything, and pours it into a mug, before coaxing Berlioz to take it.
* Berlioz twitches his arm a bit, doing an effort to seem like he's having problems even gurgling down the water.
> The clerk just twitches back, going even farther away and creeping back!
* Seira casts a discreet glance back at the merchant's table as she pretends to take care of Berlioz.
> They're all looking at the coughing bard and at Seira by extension.
* Berlioz coughs a bit more and starts opening his eyes, blinking for a moment. "... um... I'm... cough... sorry for the ruckus."
* Seira takes the now-empty mug and moves towards the counter, her eyes begging the clerk to help her as she wordlessly offers the mug to him.
> The clerk goes to refill the water quickly, holding the mug like it's poison.
* Seira throws another glance to the tavern, and the merchant's table by extension.
> The merchant and company are turning away, trying to forget this ever happened, perhpas.
<Seira> She'll only get one chance at this, as things stand, so Seira quickly murmurs the words to her spell, her body and the counter concealing the necessary motions that accompany the casting. As the arcane magic is channeled through her, Seira wills the merchant she laid her eyes on to see something special in her, as long as the magic takes hold.
<Seira> OOC: Charm Person, DC 15 Will
<Seira> OOC: Make that 16
> roll 1d20
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20 and gets 9."12 [1d20=9]
* Seira asks the clerk for a fresh mug of water as well, before making her way back to the table. She hands Berlioz the refilled mug, and then turns to the merchant's table and approaches it with a smile.
> Another mug is so brought! The merchant is just getting to his drink, glancing up at Seira. "Yes," he says neutrally, mouth hidden as he drinks.
* Berlioz grabs the mug, drinking it slowly, and perks his eyes up to see Seira approaching the merchant. Heh. Seems like something out of it worked out, at least.
<Seira> "It's fresh!" she declares, holding out the second mug. "I panicked earlier, but this is an inn, after all, so of course they would have water if I asked. Please consider this a part of my apology!"
> "Certainly," The old man smiles, taking the water and sipping. His companions look to you and then to the merchant, a momentary pause from them. "A pity about your friend."
* Berlioz gets up slowly, still sipping from the mug, and sits on the table where Seira and him were. No need to pull up extra punches now, just observe.
<Seira> Seira's smile slips slightly at his words. "Yes," she says mournfully. "A terrible pity. We've tried searching for a cure for his condition, but it's just too exotic."
* Berlioz feigns another cough, and begins trembling a bit. Well, it seems like the ruse will have to go on for a while longer. "Cough..."
> "By the gods!" The clerk calls, "Go find the mercy of Illmater, but find it elseware, sir!" He slowly aproaches Berlioz, "I'm going to insist you leave!"
> "Oh yes...mmm. Do you know of what it is," he asks, curious. "I've heard of much in all my years.":
* Berlioz limps out of the tavern, shooting a glance to the clerk. "F-fine..."
> "Damn leper!" he frets, watching Berlioz go. "I'll have the guard arrest you I get sick!"
> *arrest you if I get sick!"
* Seira briefly searches her mind for ancient, rare ailments she had read about back at Miss Moonshine's Seminary, nodding slowly in feigned sadness to stall for time, before saying one in Elvish with a Balmurian accent. She shrugs, then, looking helpless. "All I have to go on is the name, Sir."
* Hello-Nightbug (assis_san@201.47.162.144.adsl.gvt.net.br) has joined #dunes
* Berlioz (assis_san@201.47.162.144.adsl.gvt.net.br) Quit (Ping timeout)
> "Aaaah. I see...what a tragedy." He shakes his head in understanding, "That's truly a shame."
> Meanwhile the few young men are looking at each other in s urprise, one saying, "Winston?"
<Seira> "Oh, I'm in the way, am I?" Seira asks bashfully.
* Signum is now known as Makoto
> "...mmm, no." He decides, looking at the one that spoke. "Let the lady sit down - you can go check the room, if you would?"
<Seira> "Oh, thank you!" she says with feeling behind her words. "It's been so long since I was able to just talk to someone about this. I never realized what a burden it's been, and how better I would feel if I just shared my worries with another soul...."
> The two remaining aides look ate ach other in confusion, young men clearly caught aback. "What a horrible stroke of fortune. Is that your husband?" the older one asks.
<Seira> "We're childhood friends," Seira responds, a touch mournfully. "I don't know if I could take being married to him, but strings of friendship aren't broken so easily." She looks up at him, then, curiousity clear on her face. "Are you all friends, too?"
> "They're my servants," Winston says, dismissing them from attention in the same words. "At my age, money can by you many favors."
> OOc - Lemme reword that.
> "They're my servants," Winston says, turning his attention away from them in the same words. "At my age, money can by you many favors."
<Seira> "It can," she agrees, before asking him, "I know this is sudden and presumptious, but would you care to take a stroll with me? I would appreciate the fresh air, and I don't want to be alone right now."
> OOC - Mmm, yeah, opposing cha checks.
> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 and gets 5."12 [1d20=4]
<Seira> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+1 and gets 2."12 [1d20=1]
> "I would prefer to stay here. My knee pains me," Winston confesses, reaching down to pat it.
<Seira> "I'm so sorry to hear that," Seira says remorsefully, not even needing to fake the feeling. "Oh, I'm so silly! You must have traveled a long way today, and here I was trying to drag you on just more of the same."
> "Aaah yes, we just reached town. But it's alright, you're still young." A smile at the hat wearing elf, "Young enough to not want a sunburn on you rface?"
<Seira> "I like this hat," she says, smiling once more at his words. "It's perfectly symmetrical, and the latest fashion here! Doesn't it look pretty?"
> "Aaah, yes. I suppose it does," A bit of a laugh at that, "I wouldn't see anyone wearing this in the capital of Malmuth, but...I suppose it is very nice."
<Seira> "Oh, you're very well traveled indeed!" Seira practically croons, pressing her hands to the tips of her hat. "How does the fashion differ in the other places you have been to? You simply must tell me!"
> "I don't pay that much attention, but fasion?" He curiously thinks, "It's all fancy, heavy dresses in Malmuth nowadays. It's what our King, Ferdi, likes, and word of that spread."
* Hello-Nightbug is now known as Berlioz
* Seira nods attentively. "I've never been to Malmuth," she says honestly. "What is it like? Could you tell me about it?"
> "What about it?" He does slow down a little here, frowning.
* ChanServ sets mode: +o Berlioz
<Seira> "I... I don't know," she says, drawing her mouth into a pout. "I've never been there, remember? But you were, so all I wanted was for you to tell me about it. Maybe... maybe you could tell me about the last time you were there, with the pretty dresses that are fancy and heavy?"
> OOC - Let's just do a cha check here for reference and see if you're loosening him up.
> roll 1d20+!
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+! and gets Error: Numeric values only."12 [1d20=1]
<Seira> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+1 and gets 18."12 [1d20=17]
> The two aides are starating to look at each other back and forth, frowning...but they don't say anything.
> "Oh yes...well then. It was a month ago or so. All those ornate dresses of silk and jewels..." He trails off at that, "Mostly just silk these days."
> As he talks, you can hear behind you. Just the normal stuff, a few people comign and going from the sound of it.
* Seira acts surprised. "I didn't know it took a month's travel to get here from the Malmuth capital."
> "Not quite, but I had a sidetrip. I have a country house a few days off the main road, and I wished to check on my daughter." A smile shows there, Oh, Jozette. She's grown up to be a beautiful woman."
> As he goes on, "With King Ferdi's orders, I haven't had much chance to see her lately...it's a shame."
<Seira> "It is quite a shame," Seira echoes, and once again the emotion needs not to be faked. "I have not seen my father in a long, long time. I don't know why he left. Just... one day, he wasn't there anymore. At least Jozette knows that her father is doing something important for her kingdom, she knows where he is...."
> One of the aides stands up, "...Sir Winston?" he asks, "Can I talk to you a minute?"
<Seira> "Wasn't your other aid supposed to have been back by now?" Seira asks Winston idly. "Maybe he couldn't handles things on his on, and needs some help?"
> "Mmm...yes, go help him," Winston says, ordering around the one that spoke.
> He frowns deeply at that, but goes to do as instructed. The last turns to you, "Miss, I didn't catch you rname."
<Seira> "Filetta," she tells him, before giving an apologetic look to Winston. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you again, but could I trouble you with a small request? I heard they serve red wine from the north here, but I never really tried it before."
> "Mmm...very well," he nods, standing and calling aloud, "Servant girl! Red Wine here!"
> The wine quickly comes, a serving girl bringing a few glasses worth. "...Could I ask you what you want," the young man says, quick.
<Seira> "My, how gracious!" she tells Winston, taking a sip and pretending to be enraptured by him to the point she can't hear the aid. "Are you, by chance, a noble?"
> "Not in name. In wealth..." He just smiles at that, "I've had a long, successful career. Waukeen has been kind to me."
> The aide scowls deeper, but stops takling for now, just staring.
<Seira> "Ooh, I adore Waukeen as well!" she exclaims, bringing her hands together, which has the unfortunate side effect of splashing the majority of the wine in her glass all over the aid.
> "Gack!" The aide scowls, his travel worn clothes gaining a new stain. But he just sits there, "Sir Winston. I have something I need to talk to you about."
<Seira> "I'm so sorry!" she exclaims, and tries to help the aid wipe the liquid off hurriedly.
<Seira> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+10 and gets 11."12 [1d20=1]
> As the liquid is wiped off, Seira completely fails to unbuckle his pants. She's in fact at least semi obvious about it to her own eyes, the effort botched. "Hm?" Winston watches on, smiling a little bit.
> The aide just creeps away, brushing at his shirt with his hands. "What in the name of the Hells are you trying to do?" he challenges in prime irritation.
<Seira> "You have to wash it right away or the cloth is ruined!" she tells Winston. "It can't suffer a delay, or bad things happen! I know, it happened to me once!"
> "It can hold if you want," Winston waves his hand, "Go wash it if you need it."
> The last one scowls but goes off, muttering to himself as the two of you are left alone.
<Seira> "I'm really sorry about all this," Seira apologizes, pouring more wine into a fresh glass and offering it to Winston. "I'm just so clumsy sometimes."
> "It's fine, it's fine," He takes the glass offered, "Now where were we?/ I believe I lost track..." He frowns at that, trying to remember.
<Seira> "You were telling me about how the king gave you a special task, I believe," she directs the conversation, cutting to the chase.
> "Oh yes...but you understand..." He shakes his head, "It's very secret. A new trading source to start with and..." He drinks deeply from his cup, "I'm waiting for a messenger to get to this city to confirm it."
* Seira nods emphatically. "So you're just waiting on your messanger here, then? Maybe he just got lost along the way?"
> "It's a long trip from here to the elven lands...." He speaks slowly, almost in a relaxed daze. "Dangerous, but once I get the sign we'll know there was success."
> OOC - Spot check, Seira.
<Seira> roll 1d20+3
* Seira sets mode: +v Hatbot
<Seira> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+3 and gets 21."12 [1d20=18]
> You note that you can see Berlioz peeking in a window, making the 'escape/abort' sign as prearrainged. "Once we get that...oooh yes." He just smiles, "There's bounty to be had."
* Hatbot (Hatbot@cpe-70-112-24-169.austin.res.rr.com) Quit (Hatbot)
<Seira> "I hope you get your bounty, Sir," she says, gracing Winston with another sunny smile. "My, it is getting late," Seira adds, and glances at the bottle of wine mournfully. "And it was such a good wine, too. We shouldn't let it go to waste, should we? That would be rude," she muses, standing up. "Please enjoy it, Sir."
> "Yes...oh! If you're around, I'll be here a few days. It was wonderful talking to you." He smiles and stands slowly, making a slightly creaky bow.
<Seira> "Of course!" she agrees happily. "I'll stop by again, or my name is not Filetta!" Sketching a clumsy bow of her own, Seira heads out of the inn.
> As Seira goes, she can see the two blondes of her elite unit wining away with a short man wearing a rich blue mantle. They're deep in discussion.
<Seira> And while on duty, too, she huffs mentally, before slipping outside to rendezvous with Berlioz.
* Berlioz looks up, recognizing Seira and waving slightly. "Oh, good. You saw it."
<Seira> "Let's move," she tells him, passing Berzlios by and seeking out an out of the way, dark alley nearby.
> There are indeed dark alleys to be found, not too far away from the buildlng. Plenty of good ones to choose from
> .
* Berlioz follows quickly. "Sorry about that. But I... oh, nevermind."
* Seira picks one, as long as it isn't the closest, and waits until they both are safely there before asking him in her customary monotone, "What is wrong?"
* Hatbot (~Hatbot@cpe-70-112-24-169.austin.res.rr.com) has joined #dunes
<Berlioz> "I saw Lyselle and Shamal getting in the lodge with a blue-mantled shorty. If they met with you, it could've risked getting your cover blown, not to mention the possible ensuing hilarity of an untimely meeting. It may have been a little hurried, but better safe than sorry in this business."
* Seira palms her forehead. "Is that the reason I had to rush out just as I got him alone and talking?"
<Berlioz> "It wouldn't be nearly as much of an issue if I wasn't a leper right now", Berlioz rubs his forehead. "I'm sorry, but there's just way too much leeway for everything to go completely wrong, I started this with a bad foot already."
<Seira> "I knew they were there," Seira speaks in a bland, lecturing tone, pronouncing the words slowly. "I was also very, very close to actual details rather than the confirmation of what we already know. Upon our return, I would like you to be the one to take responsibility and explain everything to the Commander."
<Berlioz> "Fine, fine, I will", Berlioz sighs. "But, if you were already leading him by the hand, can't you try that again later? It's not like he will be -wary- of you. Or is he leaving Balmuria right away?"
<Seira> "Most people realize their minds have been addled with," she explains, as if to a small child. "They may not know magic from a drug, but this was a one-time deal from the start. Even if he were Charmed once more, I would have to do away with all his aides as well the next time. Are you not a mage yourself?"
* Berlioz rolls his eyes. "Oh, please, it's not like you were forcing him to slaughter his children and make a tower out of their bones. And I doubt he'd be awfully unreceptive of a cute lady who touched his crotch - possibly for the first time in years."
<Seira> Seira's eyebrow twitches. "There was no crotch-touching whatsoever. Let's go!" Turning on her heel, she marches out of the alley, intent on leaving the area.
* Berlioz whistles with an eyeroll, and walks out more quietly. Way to burn your bridges, Berlioz.

[Anastasia]

---Blonde and Blonde! (Lyselle and Shamal)---

> The docks are shining and bright! The deep green water of the Sea of Sparkling Star gleams in the sunlight. Several tall and wide ships are docked on the vast and long main pier, stretching out hundreds of feet. Sailors come and go, artisans as well. A priest of Gond helps one, the hearty, black skinned man grinning as he hauls around planks of wood. To the sides several ships are being construted, build with abandon and investment. Your destination is at the end of the long docks, to where a new ship comes in. To where one should be soon...
>  investment. Your destination is at the end of the long docks, to where a new ship comes in. To where one should be soon. (More)
> As the cry of seagulls in the air rings in your ears, you walk down the peer. A few soldiers stand at the end, coming to attention and saluting as Lyselle and Shamal approach. One is familiar - a certain young, rakish haired guard and his mustached older partner. The youngest one blushes slightly, but doesn't lower his hand at all.
* Shamal salutes back, though hers is somewhat lacking in military precision. "We just keep running into each other, don't we?" she notes cheerily. "Any sign of our dignitary's ship?" she asks, glancing out to sea.
* Lyselle gives a slight smile to herself, but doesn't otherwise recognize the two guards, offering a salute back. "Who knows with the ways of the sea..."
> "N-no!" The younger one salutes dutifully, looking downward.
> "Not a thing, ma'ams," the older one says most dutifully as well, voice rock soild and calm. "Even if someone has an overactive imagination!" There's notes of scolding there, a weary look from older to younger.
<Shamal> "Oh?" Shamal enquires curiously as she idly takes in their surroundings at this part of the dock.
* Lyselle stifles her giggle, smiling none the less and glancing between the two guards. "It's not always so bad, just as long as they outgrow it eventually."
> "He thinks he saw a sea elf," The guard rolls his eyes, mustache quivering as he tries not to laugh. "Most outgrow that foolishness by the time they leave their mother's teat!"
> The poor young guard just hangs his head, coloring mightily. "I swear I saw it..."
<Shamal> "While there are many unfathomable-" Shamal briefly stifles a giggle at her unintended pun, "Mysteries of the deep, I don't think a busy harbour is a place sea elves would visit much."
* Hotaru-chan (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) has joined #evildunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +ao Hotaru-chan Hotaru-chan
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) Quit (NickServ (GHOST command used by Hotaru-chan))
* Hotaru-chan is now known as Lyselle
* Lyselle just shrugs, smiling easily adn letting her hands settle on her swordbelt. "Well, maybe it was a mermaid then?" she jokes, laughing a little bit. "You haven't been very busy, have you?"
> "The ship is expected some time today. I hope soon," The older guard says, bland adn dutiful again as he brushes back his mustache. As he does he glances back behind him, "Mmm, shouldn't be long, Illmater willing."
* Shamal wishes she'd brought Rin or Flopsy along if she had a long wait ahead... Oh, well, nothing else for it but to tough it out. Looking around briefly, she goes to sit on a nearby bollard, looking out at the sea and at least enjoying the view and fresh air.
> OOC - Spot check, Shamal.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7
* Kotono sets mode: +v Serith
* Shamal sets mode: +v Hatbot
* Shamal sets mode: -v Serith
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+7 and gets 22."12 [1d20=15]
* Hotaru-chan (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) has joined #evildunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +ao Hotaru-chan Hotaru-chan
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) Quit (NickServ (GHOST command used by Hotaru-chan))
> Yawn. An hour passes.  As the sun winds high into the noon sky, relief comes! You can see a white prowed ship on the horizon! Yet also out of the corner of your eye, you see a black shape moving in the green water, off to the side.
* Hotaru-chan is now known as Lyselle
* Shamal stands up and walks closer to the edge of the dock, looking down towards the water to try and identify the black shape. It's something to keep her occupied!
> Hm? You see it at least sixty feet down, only the barest of images even in this relatively clear water. It's going under the pier, a black shape. About five feet long or so? Give or take a foot? "Aaaah, there it is," the older guard says, snapping to attention. "Lord Khardon's vessel."
* Lyselle turns upon Shamal's movement, following her curiously. "Something up?" she asks her companion, looking to the nature-lover.
<Shamal> "I think it's a porpoise," Shamal tells Lyselle, continuing to follow the dark shape as it moves, leaning almost off the edge of the pier to watch it. The boat still won't arrive for a little while, after all.
> OOC - Spot check again, both of you.
<Lyselle> "Do poroises normally come this close to piers?" Lyselle asks, trying to follow Shamal's vision.
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+1 and gets 21."12 [1d20=20]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+7 and gets 27."12 [1d20=20]
> So the two look down! A bit of fortune strikes them, a bit of sunlight coming through the slatted wood of the pier. The figure rises up perhaps twenty feet. You only get a glance, but you see water blue hair and a head of some sort before it dives back down, out of view. You think...it was just a moment, lingering in your minds.
<Shamal> "Ah..." Shamal gasps quietly. "I'm not sure it's a porpoise after all..." she glances briefly back at the younger guard who claimed to see a sea elf. "Excuse me, did the sea elf you saw have blue hair?" she asks.
> "Uh..." The younger guard blinks, "I didn't get that good a look...wait, what?"
<Shamal> "No reason," Shamal smiles guilelessly, before turning her attention back to the water. "I wonder what it's doing, here..." she murmurs more softly.
> "Eh? Don't tell me that this kid's addled brains ahve gotten to you?" The older guard sighs, "Last week it was about those damned ruins and that they had a passage to the heavens. Next week it'll be that Lord Salman is descended from Lathander himself!"
<Shamal> "Let's not go that far. But there is definitely something swimming down there that isn't a simple animal," Shamal confirms.
> "See?" The younger one starts to smile in triumph, as the ship sails closer.
> "Feh..." The older one shakes his head, glancing out to the sea. "Sir Khardon should arrive soon!"
<Shamal> "Yes, I suppose if it's just having a swim then we can leave it alone," Shamal decides, straightening up and turning her attention to the approaching vessel.
> So the ship approaches! It's grand white sails nearly block out the sun, pulling up to the dock. A landing board comes, passengers ready to disembark. The two guards stand at attention, waiting.
* Lyselle draws herself, her casual posture tightened into one of formality and attention, though not as stiff as their male companions. Rank hath its priveliges? Lyselle awaits their charge, smiling openly.
* Shamal takes her position alongside the landing board, almost succeeding at standing to attention after taking a second to straighten out her hat as she waits for their distinguished guest.
> Down the plank he comes. He's not tall at all - in fact, one could lose track of him. HE's not even quite 5 and a half feet tall, yet his bearing is confident. He wears a rich dark blue mantle, fancy clothes of fine make and material on his slender body. He walks quickly, soft boots making little sound on the noisy wood plank. His face is sharp, like a hawk stalking a rat and with a long, protruding nose. "Aaaaaah," he stretches, a sly grin on his face. "The ol' Bear couldn't be bothered showing up himself?"
>  "Aaaaaah," he stretches, a sly grin on his face. "The ol' Bear couldn't be bothered showing up himself?"
<Shamal> "Commander Oberuth sends his apologies for being detained, Colonel Khardon," Shamal replies after snapping off a reasonable facsimile of a salute.
* Lyselle smiles pleasently in the manner normative to a courtier, polite and facial. "He sends his greetings...one might say warmest, but that wouldn't particularly fit to Commander Oberuth's demeanor," she remarks familiarly after her salute, hands resting down again on her swordbelt. "Welcome back to Balmuria, Colonel."
> "Of course, my lady," he smiles to both, "It's been entirely too long. I'd forgotten what the smell of nearby Malmuth was...aaaah." He looks about once, then starts to walk down the pier. "Would the lovely ladies be adverse to introducing yourselves?"
<Shamal> "Cadet Shamal Velka, sir," Shamal replies with a warm smile as she falls in step with the colonel.
<Lyselle> "Cadet Lyselle o-, Armasea, sire," Lyselle offers, smiling over the slip of language.
> roll 1d20+15
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+15 and gets 30."12 [1d20=15]
> "Aaaah." He bows to both, a smooth motion and sweep. "A pleasure hence reserved only to those so blessed by the Gods...aaah." Taking in a deep breath of air, "Armasea? My Lady." He says, a note of respect as he inclines his head, before he smiles and goes to a looser, more casual banter. "It's an added pleasure to see you alive and doing well for yourself."
<Lyselle> Lyselle looks a little taken aback, eyes widening for half a second before she sketches a slight bow. "Ahhh...thank you, I just wish things could be ebtter for Armasea itself, rather than just me," she offers quietly.
<Lyselle> *better
* Shamal raises an eyebrow, not having heard much of where Lyselle is from, but deigns not to interrupt the conversation.
> "Aaaah, such is the vagaries of life." So he walks, the two guards starting to follow as well. He looks onward, at the fortress city ahead, the last bastion between the Baronies and the Empire. "Still, it's good to see you. I haven't heard the name Armasea..." He bows his head a moment, thinking, "In nearly ten years? Longer?"
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) Quit (-=SysReset 2.53=-)
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) has joined #evildunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +ao Lyselle Lyselle
<Lyselle> "Probably not since my Uncle..." Lyselle pauses, forcing her smile for a moment until she can focus past it, the expression warming quickly again. "Armasea hasn't been at large for about that long."
> "Yes...yes. I remember meeting your father once. A shame." Khardon says in light condolence, "Ended up in the military?"
<Lyselle> "An Armasean abroad would end up many other places?" Lyselle points out idly, smiling warmly again, taking an idle glance at Shamal. "I couldn't well take to much else with my upbringing."
* Shamal seems content enough to walk along with a placid smile on her face, not getting involved in the current conversation.
> "Aaah, a fair haired maiden in a rosy castle room, surrounded by decadent wealth in Malmuth or in a new country house, served by dozens in the United Baronies?" He spreads his arms out, "But no matter. Yes, I suppose this suits you."
* Lyselle nods, ducking her head and blushing a little at the...was it a compliment? She couldn't totally be sure. "It's easier than giving up the name to continue it away from home."
> AT the end of the dock you reach the stone quays at last. Khardon stops here a moment, stretching again. "Yes, yes. I must admit between you and Miss Velka, the fair haired beauty of the United Baronies has brought me to nearly tears."
<Shamal> "You're too kind," Shamal titters, holding her hand over her mouth for a moment. "If you don't mind me asking, Colonel, where have you been these past few years?"
* Lyselle blushes demurely, nodding and staying quiet. Compliments were compliments, and from such a man...ah, inappropriateness was hardly likely.
> "Aaah, around the world. To the highest mountain! To the lowest valley, to the Heavens and the very Peak of the Great Mount Celestia! To the deepest pit of the Nine Hells, where demonspawn roam like children at play...aaah," Smiling broad as a tiger, "Merely about, seeing the world. Searching."
<Shamal> "Searching for what? If it's not too forward to ask..." Shamal presses, albeit in an excessively friendly manner.
> "One of the rare gifts of the elder magi, or of the gods. A magical artifact!" So he smirks now, "My ladies, would you wish to see something forged by the very hands of immortals?"
<Shamal> "Oh?" Shamal does indeed perk up. "I suppose I might have a professional interest in such a thing," she allows, not concealing her enthusiasm all that well.
<Lyselle> "I'd be very interested..." Lyselle agreed, smiling happily with the topic change from how she and Shamal are model female citizens...
> With a flick of his wrist, a small golden dagger appears in his hand. It's gold, pure gold and glittering in the sunlight. You hear gasps from the guards at that, surely worth a tenyear set of their wages in the least! Lighting and fire crackle over it like rivulets of fluid. "The Third Resort is it's name."
<Shamal> "Oooh," Shamal breathes in softly. "Forgive my curiousity, but I simply must inspect this more closely," she apologises, before murmuring a brief incantation and flexing her fingers a bit as she casts a spell to let her see magic.
<Lyselle> "Oh my..." Lyselle murmurs, eyes widening slowly as she inspects the dagger, though having no mind herself for such things arcane, simply admiring the craftsmanship and aesthetics of the weapon.
> (1st round - there is indeed a magical aura around it.) "Oh, a spellcaster?" he says in mild surprise, "Perhaps the old Bear really is busy, if he's sending you to meet me instead fo himself. My fortunes rise."
<Shamal> "I wasn't joking about the professional interest," Shamal smiles earnestly, before focusing on the dagger. "Sadly not a spellcaster skilled enough to make a weapon such as this..."
> (2nd round. There is one unified arua, and it's extremely powerful magic.) "Those are the rare of the rare. But with seeing this, surely your craft will begin to become as skilled and as beautiful as yourself?"
<Shamal> "My but you are a flatterer, Colonel," Shamal blushes faintly at his words. "Perhaps one day, though... By Mielikki, but this is a powerful aura - I've never seen anything like it!" she marvels, all too easily distracted.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+9 spellcraft go
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+9 spellcraft go and gets 18."12 [1d20=9]
> (3rd round: You can't figure out what schools the aura is.) "Yes...yes it is..." he murmurs, flicking his wrist so that the dagger vanishes again. "Would you like to hear the tale of how I found it, my ladies?"
<Shamal> "Of course," Shamal smiles cheerily, hiding her disappointment at failing to decipher the aura. She still has a long way to go...
<Lyselle> "Verily...it must be quite a tale for such an artifact," Lyselle agrees, smiling gamely despite the lack of attention. Did she even want it? Maybe!
> "Come then! I'll lead you to my old favorite tavern. It's been a long time! If you would," he glances back to the two guards, "I believe you may return to your stations," he says, slipping into a commanding voice.
> The two exchange looks, but the older one quickly bucks up. "Sir?" hepauses a moment, glancing at Lyselle.
<Lyselle> "Hmm?" Lyselle blinks, looking back at the guards with a raised eyebrow.
* Shamal catches the hesitation, before stepping in. "You're dismissed - take the rest of the afternoon off," she smiles to the two guardsmen.
> "Thank you!" The younger one quickly salutes, going off quickly. The older one smiles just a little bit, "May you be careful and safe, ma'ams."
* Signum is now known as Makoto
<Shamal> "Always," Shamal sees them off with a cheery wave before returning her attention to Colonel Khardon. "You were going to suggest a drinking establishment, sir?"
> "Indeed. Shall we," he offers, taking the lead now.
* Lyselle simply smiles, folding her arms across her waist, nodding. "Please."
> So you walk down the streets! Khardon is in no hurry, whistling as you head down the streets. Soon you reach the main road, busy and bustling as always. The inn ahead is a nice one - Liberty Point. "Oh, the name's changed. Just as well considering the last one," Khardon muses aloud. "The Star of Malmuth is such an unbefitting name these days."
<Shamal> "It got changed not long after we seceded," Shamal nods, recognising the inn. "Makes good business sense to capitalise on the mood."
<Lyselle> "...It would be," Lyselle agrees, smiling as she follows, not so familiar with such an establishment. "Must have been around for quite a number of years..."
> "It was barely much - there wasn't too much here before the war ended and all that," Khardon notes as you head inside. It's a nice place - taxidermy and animal heads hang about, freshly cleaned tables and sweet serving women. Khardon looks about briefly, a rather irritated clerk wiping his hands with a dishcloth over and over at the front desk.
* Shamal makes a somewhat distasteful expression at the taxidermy on display, but keeps any unkind comments to herself.
* Lyselle looks curious between taxidermy and compulsive greeters, focusing back on her companions for now. She has to wonder if their commander had some forethought here, or if it was completely coincidence.
> "Can I help you," he says, a note of disgusteness still in his voice. "Oh good, you're not HIM again."
* Shamal leaves it to the colonel to order. She sure isn't paying, having been left with barely enough to live on after blowing all her money on magic supplies. The life of a witch is fraught with peril...
> "Table and drinks, what would my ladies want," Khardon smiles at this, taking out a small cloth pouch, a few gold coins placed down in front of the clerk.
<Shamal> "I'll have white wine, please," Shamal smiles serenely in reply. It's nice to have a treat she couldn't afford on her salary otherwise...
<Lyselle> "Northern red," Lyselle hazards, her smile warm and only faintly tinted by remnant blush. The wine of her home regions...it had been a while since she could indulge such.
> "It'll be along." The coins vanish as they're taken, "Go take a table."
* Shamal looks around for a suitably empty table where they can converse in peace.
> Most of the tables are empty. One in the far corner has a few men, and old man and a girl with a hat on, obscuring her face and plain clothes. Besides that, lots of empty tables to choose from.
* Shamal goes to grab an out of the way table that happens to be empty, staying upright until her superior officer sits first. She might be a lady, but he's a colonel!
* Lyselle follows Khardon, staying demurely formal in the same regard as Shamal. He's a colonel, and probably a lord somewhere...and well, she's just a landless Countess.
> He sits about midway from the corner tot he other wall, kicking his feet up. "Aaah, sit, sit."
* Shamal obligingly does so. "So, you were going to tell us the tale of how you acquired the Third Resort?" she prods nicely.
* Lyselle sits carefully, coiling herself into the chair and leaning only slightly forward, offering an endearing, interested smile. "It should certainly be quite interesting..."
> "Yes. Far, far, far to the north..." So he begins, leaning back and half closing his eyes. "There is a land of ice adn snow. Nothing but it, not a single blade of grass grows there. The only food are great white bears that roam and innocent creatures called seals."
<Shamal> "Sounds very inhospitable," Shamal muses as she listens, sitting with a slight slouch as she relaxes. Of course, she's no stranger to hunting and killing her meals, but it's really not the thing to drop into civilised conversation, is it?
> "It's called the End of the World by the few natives. They say that the Gods live beyond it. I don't know if that's true, but...." He smiles, flicking his wrist again. Nothing appears, but he seems satistifed with that answer. "I'd found some old texts that talked about a long gone city there, ruled by a powerful archmage."
* Lyselle listens, close and attentive with her violet eyes fixtured on Khardon's movements and story telling. Lyselle smiles, simply enjoying and greeting to the old commander.
<Shamal> "And that city is where you found the dagger?" Shamal asks.
> "Yes. Frozen under a mile of ice, a week's worth of ice caverns traversed. But I found it - and this on the throne. But not unguarded. The creature there...mage, have you ever heard of a golem?"
> He smiles at this as your drinks come. He takes a cup of water, drinking it down.
* Shamal accepts her wine and takes a brief sip before setting the goblet down and nodding. "A creation of stone with a bound elemental eternally driving it to unthinkingly follow its creator's commands?" she replies, before smiling quirkily, "Forgive me for waxing dramatic. I so rarely get to discuss these things."
* Lyselle sips her wine, carefully relishing the flavor of more northerly vinyards, not attacking it. Hardly does she have time or money for such enjoyments, her expression warming to the colonel. "Sounds like a forbidding and dangerous creature," she offers softly, raising her eyebrows. "Yet you are here in one piece, m'lord. You certainly bested the creation...?"
> "Oh no. They're worth being dramatic about. Damned thing. It wasn't made of stone, though - of ice harder than steel. I even snuck up and struck it's back with my best blow, and it barely was phased. It's fists crushed the floor like glass, and it's mouth spewed winds cold enough to freeze a human alive! A nightmare of rare magic...but I won, yes." Pride seeps into his voice, warming and embolding. "I leapt up to the top of the throne! I took the Third Resort and made a great lunge for it's head! In a single blow I sliced it into two!"
> "I leapt up to the top of the throne! I took the Third Resort and made a great lunge for it's head! In a single blow I sliced it into two!"
* Shamal gives soft but earnest applause. "You certainly put our battles with goblins around here to shame, Colonel. It sounds like a dangerous foe, indeed. I take it the creator was long gone?"
<Lyselle> "Such prowess..." Lyselle's not purring, not quite, as she leans forward, caught for a moment on the crest of the tale. "Such a tale certainly could hardly be matched anywhere in Balmuria by those living."
> "Very much so. After that, the forgotten castle was quiet." He beams at that, "I've never had a weapon like this. Elemental fire and lighting strike down anyone it slices, and it can even cut stone to the maximum."
> As he talks, you hear someone call for red wine, quite loudly.
* Shamal ignores such distractions. "I'd say you earned such a prize for risking your life so," she beams approvingly. "If only Balmuria had more men such as yourself."
> "Then it's good I've returned! Aaah..." Stretching back another time, "Ol' Bear chose well indeed."
<Lyselle> "It is!" Lyselle agrees brightly, pushing back several strands of her pale blonde hair. "It's always better to have our best back amongst the baronies, especially during uncertain times," she nearly purrs, smiling openly.
> "Heh, heh..." He looks up to the ceiling, a little melancholy. "Countess...you're a beautiful woman, but you didn't need to do THAT. Not quite. Even if I was tempted, and I assure you I was!, you remind me of a fond niece I don't remember."
* Seira (~corwin@bzq-88-155-95-196.red.bezeqint.net) has joined #evildunes
> "I told you I knew your father..." He trails off, still looking upward. "I brought you here to unwind and to treat you, since I know the Ol' Bear probably doesn't pay you enough. Also as a memory to your father..." He sighs, "I hate being so forthright...Could you pretend you didn't hear that, Shamal?"
* Shamal blushes a bit at the direction the conversation was taking, before blinking at that last request. Still, she knows the correct response to such questions! "Heard what, sir?" she replies innocently.
> "Thank you, beautiful soldier of Balmuria." With a wink he looks back, cocky smile making a quick and forceful return.
<Shamal> "Think nothing of it, sir," Shamal replies with a smile, taking another sip of her wine. Deciding to change the subject, however... "If you don't mind my asking, however - if that's the Third Resort, what were the first and second?"
* Lyselle finds her cheeks brightly and almost immediately lit red, coughing a little, though there's a noticeable slump to her shoulders. "I barely knew father," she whispers entirely to herself, shrugging and letting it go at that, taking a longer sip from her cup as she looks away, around the bar.
> "I don't know. All I know about it came from the sage I paid to research it." He shrugs at that, sipping at his water. "Your father? He was a soldier doing what he could in a difficult time. I was proud to know him."
* Retrieving #evildunes modes...
<Lyselle> "Mmmmm," Lyselle hums, offering a faint if sad smile. "It's hard to understand, but I suppose I might later, much later," she agrees, enjoying her wine. "When there's a count, I'll probably understand father better."
> "You raise a good point...A First and Second resort? If this is merely the Third Resort..." Khardon rubs his chin as he thinks, lowering his eyes.
> "Ah yes. You will one day. Your father did what he did for his own reasons, ones he felt were valuable." So he smiles understandingly, "Even if he's probably turning over in his grave that such a lovely daughter is still unwed?"
<Lyselle> "He'd turn over in his grave if I took any of the proposals and consigned Armasea to another family, too," Lyselle snickers, another, longer swallow of the deep red wine following her first sips. "Maybe when I take it back. But...mmm, a first and second? Spear and sword? Or the like?""
> "Perhaps. A dagger is a weapon only a sneaky thief uses. Company excepted," he smirks, putting his glass down. "A spear, a sword, a mace, a bow and arrow? Who knows? If they're of this potency as is this dagger, they'd be worth a kingdom if you had one to sell."
<Shamal> "It would follow that a Third Resort would likely be more powerful than a First Resort," Shamal muses. "For most people, anyway, since playing your strongest card first can be a foolish move."
<Lyselle> "Withholding your force at the same time can spell doom  for a battle if your enemy has too much momentum and advantage..." Lyselle muses, offering it with a small shrug. "Could mean anything, I suppose."
> "Then a Last Resort would be something to see!" Khardon kicks back, "Well, matters for the sages and those with minimal attachment to growing old to find out. To that, cheers!" Khardon takes his glass and raises it, drinking the cool water down.
<Shamal> "To reckless adventure," Shamal grins, raising her goblet as well.
* Lyselle raises her glass, snickering. "To the future," she agrees.
> With that Khardon finishes his drink, rising. "Well then. I'll pay for another bottle for the two of you, and I shall see you around. I'll be busy for a little bit, but Lyselle? Talk to the Old Bear if you want to catch me. We can talk about your family."
> With a pause he goes by Shamal, smiling, "You as well..." he says fondly, "But until then, may the Gods smile on you."
<Shamal> "Thank you, sir," Shamal smiles, taking another sip of her wine as he departs, before leaning towards Lyselle. "Bad luck, there," she commiserates sympathetically.
* Lyselle nods to Khardon, offering a smile and settling as he leaves. "...Yeah," she snorts a little, giving an easier smile to Shamal. "Were you trying, too?" she asks curiously, raising an eyebrow at her fellow blonde.
<Shamal> "I was mostly just being nice, but..." she blushes a little, "I wouldn't have put up much resistance, no."
* Lyselle gives Shamal a frank look, snickering a little. "Mmm," she agrees, shaking her head. "So now what, we get drunk and collapse on expensive wine?" she asks curiously, trying to keep from laughing.,
<Shamal> "I'm not letting this go to waste!" Shamal insists, taking a more forceful gulp of her wine. "I already spent all my money from selling the goblin's equipment - it's looking to be another magic berry month for the Velka house," she laments over where a lot of their meals are going to be coming from.
<Lyselle> "I haven't spent mine just yet...though I should," Lyselle sighs, draining the rest of her glass, reaching over and patting Shamal. "We could go hunting...your dog was good with the goblins, certainly...deer shouldn't be too difficult."
<Shamal> "Yes, that's always something worth doing when duty doesn't loom large," Shamal agrees. "Have to see what the next few days have for us - for now, though, let's just drink and relax!" she declares.

[Anastasia]

> So the evening comes. At an hour past sundown is when Commander Oberuth summons you. He wears fine clothes, looking vaguely ill fitting on his large, bearlike frame. He sits in a chair in the meeting room, looking distinctly uncomfortable as the four file in. "Well then," he begins, "How go matters?"
* Berlioz (assis_san@201.22.150.242.adsl.gvt.net.br) Quit (Ping timeout)
<Seira> "Your suspicions were proven right, Commander," Seira reports. "A merchant from Malmuth is indeed related to the messenger sent by the Empire to the elves."
> "Details?" The Commander pulls at the front of his shirt, "What information did you find?"
* Seira can't help but throw a glare at Berlioz, before she returns to stare straight ahead. "The Empire is interested in establishing extensive trade relations with the elves. A man posing as a merchant is staying at the Liberty Point inn here in town. He is using the name of Winston, and has at least three subordinates around him. He was the one who dispatched the messengers our goblin friends intercepted, and he will be waiting for their
<Seira> He was the one who dispatched the messengers our goblin friends intercepted, and he will be waiting for their return for the next few days before departing, unless something out of the ordinary happens."
> "Well, we can assume he won't be getting what he's waiting for..." A long, speculative look, "Anything else about that?"
<Seira> "Sir, we can use that to our advantage and set up a sting. We have the authentic medallion, it may be possible to trick Winston into believing one of us, in disguise, is bearing an answer from the elves."
<Shamal> "But we don't know what the messengers looked like," Shamal interjects.
> "We do have the medallion, though." A stroke of his chin as he thinks, "Mmmm. I like Seira's idea, I'd like to find out more about what the imperial bastards are up to."
<Seira> "We may get away with presenting heavy scarring," Seira responds. "Once we have the initiative, the conversation will go our way."
> "Besides," He goes on, "We have one with elven ears in this very room. I imagine it would be believable on success for an unexpected elf to come to meet him?"
* Seira drops her head. "I'm sorry I was unable to be of more use, Commander," she says, clenching her fists at her sides.
* Lyselle nods. "And...are there laws broken yet? I'm not sure we could classify them as spies against -us- quite yet, and jsut snatching on of their merchants..." Lyselle hedges, frowning. "9It sounds liuke the start of an incident if we have nothing on them."
<Lyselle> *It
> "You did well, Seira. I have no complaint."
* Seira manages a nod at that.
> "That's why we won't get caught holding the bag," A quick, narrow smile on the Bear's face, "Simple enough."
> "Our laws are to protect our country and people. This qualifies, don't you think?"
<Shamal> "As for the other task you assigned us, sir," Shamal volunteers, "Colonel Khardon expressed his satisfaction with his welcome back to Balmuria."
> "Excellent!" A quick smile shows on the Commander's face, "How is he?"
* Lyselle nods, witholding both coughing and blushing. "He seemed delighted to be back, and in good spirits overall," she adds, smiling at their relative success.
> "Good. Then I task you with the following: Over the next few days continue to gather what information you can on him however you will. If you feel you can act safely to decieve him, do so. Unless he's proven to do something implicity illegal, don't tip your hand or arrest him. He's an information source, not a criminal. Yet."
> *On Winston

[Anastasia]

> The stable itself is...well, it's a stable. Hay litters the ground and the unique stench of held horses fills the air. There are a few people coming or going, but no one near where Winston's horses are kept in back.  The door and area are quite wide, easy for Berlioz to hang around and keep watch while Shamal goe sin.
* Berlioz grumbles, looking back and away from the horses, paying attention to the influx of people. "That's an unique method of investigation, I must hand it to you."
<Shamal> "One must play to their strengths, and I'm afraid I'd likely be a liability speaking to the merchant himself," Shamal laments, finding the horse in question at the back of the stable and offering it a magically sweetened cubed carrot - she can't afford sugar right now, sadly. "Nice horsie," she carols, stroking its neck as she feeds it.
<Shamal> OOC: Prestidigitation to flavour the carrot and then using animal empathy after my bribe
> OOC - Roll for it. The carrot will give you a +4 circumstancial bonus.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7
<Reikobot> 1,0Shamal rolled :1,0 1d20+7 --> 1,0[ 1d20=11 ]12,0{18}
> The horse eats the carrot and looks pleased. The food goes down, it's wide old tail moving backa nd forth.
* Shamal smiles to the horse as she continues stroking its neck, before she murmurs her spell, "... and so, the barriers of speech between human and animal slip aside, in Mielikki's name..." Her spell complete, she speaks more clearly. "Hello, what's your name?"
> "Charger..." The horse whinnies loudly, while meanwhile Berlioz sees no one out of the ordinary. "Oh! You can talk?"
* Berlioz (assis_san@201.22.145.105.adsl.gvt.net.br) Quit (Ping timeout)
<Shamal> "That's right, Charger," Shamal nods happily. "My name is Shamal - I'm a friend to animals," she explains. "I wanted to talk to you about your owner - his name is Winston, isn't it?"
> "My owner? It is." The horse makes a happy noise, licking at the carrot flavored hands of the druid.
<Shamal> "I wonder, Charger, have you heard Winston talking about being given an important job by his King?" Shamal asks, gently leading the conversation.
> "HE talks about it to his friends. It's about...elves? Wood creatures."
<Shamal> "Yes, that's right," Shamal nods, "Elves. They're like humans but with pointy ears, aren't they? Do you know what Winston wants to contact the elves for?"
> "It's something important...but I don't know. What's an emblem? He's waiting for that and for other things. There will be something with that human thing and more human things."
<Shamal> "What other things?" Shamal presses, offering another flavoured carrot cube to the horse. "This is important, Charger - try to remember."
> roll 1d20
<Reikobot> 1,0Kotono rolled :1,0 1d20 --> 1,0[ 1d20=17 ]12,0{17}
> "Oh!" The horse eats the carrot right up, "It's...what's a 'ma...magical...blue...print?'"
<Shamal> "Oh, it's very important, Charger," the witch croons. "It's something that humans can use - it tells us how to make things. From carts to swords to stables - all of them are first imagined on blueprints before they get made in reality. A magical one must be really special! Did Winston ever say what he could do with the blueprint, Charger?"
> "No...Just that it was important!"
<Shamal> "I see," Shamal nods gently. "So he's waiting for someone to come back with the emblem and the blueprints, yes? Do you remember the humans he sent away to find these things?"
> "No, I never saw them."
<Shamal> "That's okay, Charger," Shamal smiles nicely as she strokes the horse's mane, offering up another carrot cube. "But did he talk about those humans at all? What they were like or where he found them?"
> "I...think so. That they were all working for the same person. The big, important person."
<Shamal> "The big important person? Do you mean the king - the human who gave Winston his mission?" the blonde clarifies.
> "I think so!"
<Shamal> "Interesting... and has Winston talked about when he expects the other humans to come back with the blueprints?"
> "He said that they'd be here at least a few days. He didn't seem to know exactly how long."
<Shamal> "And did he ever say what their names were, Charger?" Shamal asks, both her questions and the spell now running out.
> roll 1d20
<Reikobot> 1,0Kotono rolled :1,0 1d20 --> 1,0[ 1d20=17 ]12,0{17}
> "...I think one of them was...Nephaneal...?" You hear a winny after, the spell indeed running out.
<Shamal> "Thank you, Charger," Shamal leans up and gently kisses Charger's head. "You've been very helpful," she adds gratefully, feeding her the rest of the carrot cubes before she goes to rejoin Berlioz.
> OOC - Since Berli is once again in peerland? Okay, what's everyone's thoughts now for planning and the like?
<Shamal> OOC: I pass my information to the info-gathering specialists and defer to their judgement
> OOC: Cor? Ideas there, then>?
<Seira> OOC: We need Disguise Self. Let's pool together to scribe it, then use it together to approach Winston.
<Shamal> OOC: 3.5gp~!
<Seira> OOC: We encompasses more than just us two~
<Seira> roll 1d20+6 Disguise Self~
<Reikobot> 1,0Seira rolled :1,0 1d20+6 1,0Disguise Self~ --> 1,0[ 1d20=20 ]12,0{26}
* Berlioz (assis_san@201.47.166.17.adsl.gvt.net.br) has joined #dunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +o Berlioz
> The sun shines down as you go to the inn. Liberty Point isn't too busy at this moment as the three head inside, and Lyselle is...OOC - Set up your apperances and where you are/ect. Get all the details you want in and note any preparations.
* Seira shifts enough of her features around so that it would be difficult to connect her blonde elfin disguise to her regular appearance. A cloak covers her form and the bow she carries, its raised hood obscuring her face for the time being.
* Lyselle waits in an alley across the street, clothed to cover most of her distinguishing features, and her long hair braided underneath her helmet. She stays out of sight mostly, waiting for a signal to go forward if necessary, but realkly hoping it never comes.
<Shamal> Having previously cast Longstrider in case she needs to flee in a hurry, and Message so that she and Lyselle can communicate at a distance, Shamal is now wearing the appearance of a tall and willowy elf with striking red hair and apparently wearing a suit of incredibly fine mithril chainmail that flows around her as if it were silk.
* Berlioz disguises self as Nephaneal, brutal scars running down his face and arms. He wears a ragged gray cloak himself, for the pretense of hiding the more horrifying wounds. Limping and using a cane to walk, he seems like a brutalized shell of a person, as if a god himself came down to earth in order to relentlessly scar a heathen.
<Shamal> Walking into the tavern, Shamal idly brushes aside a lock of crimson hair, clearly displaying her sharply pointed ears. "Where is the one who employed you?" she asks 'Nephaneal'.
> So the group heads into the inn. Your target is on the second floor, just near the stairs up. Nothing remarkable at all as you head a long, though the elven Shamal gets a few glances and open gawks. "S-second floor," the clerk stares.
> OOC - Strike that last part, completely misread.
> So the group heads into the inn. Your target is on the second floor, just near the stairs up. Nothing remarkable at all as you head a long, though the elven Shamal gets a few glances and open gawks.
* Berlioz thrudges through the stairs, in his best impression of a physically disabled shell of a person. As soon as he gets to the second floor, he murmurs something, preparing his voice. "Winston... I must speak to... Winston..."
> The second floor is a hallway with rooms branching off. As this is an inn, it's expected. You know the first door on the right holds your target, as you whisper in the hallway.
* Berlioz knocks faintly on the first door on the right. You better hold up to this drama act, bard, he thought for a moment.
> The door quickly opens! One of the young aides is there, staring at Berlioz.
* Berlioz takes the pendant off his pocket and pretends to collapse kneeling on the floor, making sure the emblem is quite visible to the aide.
<Shamal> "Nephaneal!" Shamal gasps, moving to support the stricken man.
* Seira watches impassively from behind the two.
> "What?!" The aide rushes forward as well, gasping as he views the emblem. "Winston!"
> You can hear a ruckus in the room, the door opened further. It's a large, very plain in room, the man in question coming to the door.
> "Nephanea-Oh ....oh by the..." His mouth hangs agape, shocked
> !
<Seira> This strategy has worked once before, and may yet prove itself again, Seira muses, chanting quietly as she approaches. She lays a gloved hand on the fallen man, her hood falling and revealing her features, while her spell seeks out to ensnare Winston!
> OOC: DC?
> roll 1d20 + whateve,r need to check notes
<Reikobot> 1,0Kotono rolled :1,0 1d20 1,0+ whateve,r need to check notes --> 1,0[ 1d20=14 ]12,0{14}
> Winston blinks slowly as fell magic corrupts his senses. "What in the naem of the Gods happened?!"
<Seira> "He is the one?" Seira asks of Berlioz, ignoring Winston's question.
* Berlioz breathes heavily, mustering his scarce strength to answer in a rough mutter. "Y-yes..."
<Seira> "Hmm." Seira gives Winston a long, judging look. "I see."
> The servants and Winston alike hobble back, poleaxed and with gaping mouths wide open. "Tell me, what happened!"
<Seira> "Out here, in the hallway?" she asks, raising an eyebrow mockingly.
> "Come in, come in!" He gestures quickly, standing back adn with the doorway open.
* Seira moved inside with a fluid grace, head held high.
<Shamal> "Your friends found themselves unprepared for the dangers surrounding our lands," Shamal notes as she helps Berlioz inside. "He was lucky we found him when we did, or none at all would have survived..."
> Inside is a very typical inn room. Nothing of note, just passable beds, a window, and a heavy table with what looks to be travel supplies and sacks on it.
<Seira> "Pathetic." Seira snorts in derision. "Is that all humans amount to, prey to goblinkind?"
> "I don't...Goblins? Goblins did that to you, Nephaneal?" There is a note of raw shock, "A person chosen by His Majesty himself!"
* Hotaru (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) has joined #dunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +ao Hotaru Hotaru
<Shamal> "There were a lot of them," Shamal offers diplomatically. "But yes, not really something our patrols don't handle routinely."
<Seira> "Yes, well, let us move on, shall we?" Seira says in exaggerated boredom. "We're here to listen. So speak. Our time is short and valuable."
> "Yes." Winston sits heavily on one of the beds, head in his hands for a few moments. "Alright. What have you told them so far, Nephaneal?"
<Seira> "Your deepest cordialness, gainful cooperation," Seira quotes in her feigned boredom. "And trusted aide? We do not negotiate with mere aides!" She snorts again, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
* Hotaru is now known as Lyselle
> "The situation and your current positions make direct contact a distinctly challenging issue," Winston smoothly goes on, shock quickly regulated to the side. "In short we propose a trade. The Sacred Blade 'Elysion' in exchange for the pair of Rings of Teleportation, as well as a standing agreement to trade elven wood for magical arts beneficial to both our countries."
> A pause after this, licking his lips, "Such a rare exchange would bring the best minds of our nations together, and cement good, prosperous relations."
* Seira is silent for a moment, allowing her arrogant mask to slip just long enough to be noticed, before she gets it back up. "And what assurances do we have that you have the authority to offer such a trade?" she asks haughtily.
<Shamal> "And how would you propose the exchange to occur?" Shamal adds. "No disrespect, but given the difficulty your messenger had even reaching our borders..."
* Seira smirks in satisfaction at Shamal's words.
> Winston looks to his aides, one of which bows and goes to the sacks in the room. He roots around in it a time, coming out with a small sealed scroll. "Should you wish to ratify our intentions, His Majesty Ferdi has personally written to your people." This gets him to pause as the envelope is rought to him, "With those rings, travel between our places will become simplistic, amid other uses."
* Hotaru-chan (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) has joined #dunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +ao Hotaru-chan Hotaru-chan
<Seira> "I must personally review this missive before an affirmative answer could be given," Seira says after a moderate pause, her voice cautious, now.
<Shamal> "And we ourselves do not hold sole authority when it comes to trading in such powerful artifacts," Shamal chimes in, "However, we will see to it that the message reaches our ruler who will respond as his Highness sees fit."
<Seira> "Its authencity must be verified!" Seira snaps, turning to glare at Shamal. "You cannot believe their mere words!"
> "Very well." A nod of Winston's head, old, wrinkled hand extending out and passing the scroll over.
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) Quit (Operation timed out)
<Shamal> "Peace, sister Almazia," Shamal replies soothingly, holding up her hand with her fingers splayed in some sort of elven salute she just made up. "I merely wished to prevent any misunderstandings from the humans."
* Seira nods curtly, before accepting the scroll. She breaks the seal, and holds it open before her.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8 arcana
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 arcana and gets 25."12 [1d20=17]
* Hotaru-chan is now known as Lyselle
> "To the High King of the Sun and his subjects, salutations. I pen this letter to assure you of Our missives and Our veracity. The Great and Eternal Empire of Malmuth only wishes for good, peaceful relations between our powers, so that both can prosper under the golden light of the Gods. Our offer is fair, just and beneficial, and We hope that you will agree." Below that is a fancy inlaid seal of an eagle over a lion, a seal of the Throne of Malmuth. It's inlaid in some sort of gold leaf and quite pretty. "King Ferdi of Malmuth."
>  a seal of the Throne of Malmuth. It's inlaid in some sort of gold leaf and quite pretty. "King Ferdi of Malmuth."
* Seira makes the point of studying the seal and signature, before showing the scroll to Shamal. "What do you think, Sister?" she asks, not taking her eyes off the document.
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) Quit (Ping timeout)
<Shamal> "Hmm... Of course I cannot speak for his Highness, but I have heard of this sword they wish to trade. It is a powerful weapon, though I am unsure if it would be so well received by our people." She blows out a long breath, "Regardless, the offer seems genuine... though I am mystified as to why Malmuth's representative would be residing in one of its rogue provinces?" she glances up at Winston speculatively, there.
<Seira> "We did not come with the rings," Seira adds, picking up on Shamal's words. She stares at Winston, cocking her head. "Were you foolish enough to bring the sword along into your enemy's den?"
> "The difficulties on our borders make this regretable situation the most preferable for contact at this current time." He goes on smooth as a whistle, "Sending one this way around was deemed as less hazardous than dealing with trolls and orckind. Of course not," he waves his hand, "Any trade will take place on a very safe ground to be negotiated."
> "Even if goblins prove to be bothersome," A look to Nephaneal, shock, disgust, anger and sadness flickering on his face before a diplomat's smile takes over, "They are ten times better than trolls. Even if it seems our choice of messenger was mistaken."
<Seira> "Name the place," Seira states firmly. "We will pick the time. There, our answer would be delivered."
> "Valandia will do." A pause as he thinks, "It is close to your borders so you should be able to come with sufficient aid if you wish, yet not leave us vulnerable, either. Acceptable?"
* Seira appears to consider this seriously, as she mentally checks against her map of the area and the time it would take her to reach that place both from the elven court and from Balmuria.
* Lyselle (dragomirst@225-52-77-204.sptc.mnscu.edu) has joined #dunes
* ChanServ sets mode: +ao Lyselle Lyselle
> "Nephaneal, do yous till have the emblem?" he inquires a few moments later. "It will be shown to the border guard to ensure safe passage."
* Seira presses her index finger to her lips. "Six weeks' time," she says at last. "Your King should have no reason to object to this time table." Seira grimaces, then, her hand tightening around the scroll. "I do not plan to recommend the Court to deal with humans, but I will present all the facts faithfully. Your missive would get through. May this candor be reciprocated."
> "Likewise," Winston stands, a formal bow to the elf. "Until that day."
* Seira returns the bow curtly.
> "Nephaneal?" Winston repeats after that finishes.
* Shamal likewise bows, a bit more relaxed than her companion. "Give the man the emblem, Nephaneal," she gives the scarred man a pleasant look that only barely covers a flinty expression of command. "You won't need it now, after all."
* Berlioz grunts with difficulty, leaving the emblem weakly over Winston's feet. "... here..."
> The emblem is taken, old Winston grunting with effort to get it. "Your services are done. We'll return you to His Majesty for his judgment on your use now."
* Seira turns to leave, asking over her shoulder, "Coming, Sister?"
<Shamal> "I would not expect Nephaneal back in Malmuth for some time - he owes us much for the..." a brief flicker of pain flashes over her expression before being masked, "Difficulties, endured in rescuing him. Until that day, he will be cared for by us." Taking a deep breath, she nods to Seira. "Come along, Nephaneal. We have a long journey ahead of us."
<Seira> "You still wish to keep that failure around as a pet?" Seira asks in disgust.
> Winston pauses, but nods his head in assent. "Very well, he is likely of little use to us now regardless."
* Seira tosses her hair angrily and storms out of the room.
* Shamal sighs at Seira. "It is a matter of honour, sister. Let us speak of it no more." And with that she follows in departing.
* Berlioz grunts and limps, following Shamal.
> So the three escape the room, out and into the hall, and beyond if they wish.
* Shamal makes haste out of the inn, her magically enhanced footsteps soon letting her catch up with Seira as they flee before the disguise spell wears off.
<Seira> Certain in the knowledge that Lyselle is backing them up, Seira aims to make as much distance between the inn and them before sneaking off into an alley where they would not be seen.
* Berlioz scurries off alongside the fellow tricksters, blinking and sighing a bit in relief.
* Shamal keeps an eye out for anyone appearing to tail them, a spell ready to throw off any pursuit once they divert into an alley if necessary.
> OOC - Spot check Shamal.
<Seira> roll 1d20+3 I'm always spotting, too~
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+3 I'm always spotting, too~ and gets 20."12 [1d20=17]
* Lyselle keeps an eye out from her alley, watching her friends leave, huddled down in shadow and waiting.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+7 and gets 15."12 [1d20=8]
> OOC - Spot check as well, Lyselle. +4 circumstancial bonsu since you've been watching awhile so you know which way is which in this.
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+5 and gets 11."12 [1d20=6]
> So the party flees to an alley a good ways away, seemingly safe and sound!
* Seira uses that first chance to observe the scroll, herself and her companions with her magical sight, just to be on the safe side from any traps.
> The scroll is not magical.
* Berlioz rubs temples, letting out a snide snicker. "Well, that was an amusing endeavor."
* Seira gives Shamal and Berlioz a genuine smile. "Success!" she proclaims quietly, her eyes twinkling happily.
<Shamal> "Just in case anyone's following," Shamal whispers to her companions, "I'll put up a fog bank - when it does, dispel your disguises and then head out the other end of the alley?"
<Seira> "We'll meet back at the barracks?" Seira suggests.
* Berlioz nods blankly. "I guess so. Splitting up wouldn't be a bad idea after this little drama show."
<Shamal> "We don't have to split up," Shamal shakes her head, "This is just to let us drop the disguises without being seen." With that in mind, she glances down both ends of the alley to make sure no one's peeking down them.
<Seira> "Actual proof, and the possibility to keep up the charade...." Seira shakes her head in disbelief. "The Commander would be so proud!"
> Shamal doesn't see anyone, just a few passerby not paying attention. Pretty typical.
* Berlioz shakes his head condescendingly as Seira squeals. While this was a nice accomplishment, her excitability was entertaining, to say the least. But... oh, well.
* Shamal holds up her hands overhead, briefly incanting, "Fog and vapour, gather at my call... bring down the mist of the dawn!" And with that, the alley is suddenly choked with fog, preventing anyone from seeing anything. Luckily Shamal knows where she's going, so she simply dispels her digsuise and starts walking down towards the other end of the alley.
<Seira> Seira's elfin features melt away, replaced by her regular figure, and she follows Shamal out of the alley. A snap of her wrist detached her cloak, and she twirls it, twisting the cloth around. In a smooth motion, Seira is cloaked once more, only in a deep purple garment.
> So the party slips away in a sudden fogbank! While people complain about the randomness of sea weather, they slip back to base. Soon enough Commander Oberuth is with them, watching training cadets spar in an open yard. It's a very dusty and battle sweated place, one that each person here has done time in themselves. It's wide open and broad, a few sturdy chairs for watchers. The commander fills one, looking up as you approach. "Well?"
* Berlioz steps forth, providing with a formal greeting. "We have found... rather interesting things, Commander. And interesting proof of such, as well."
> The commander glances around a few times, and sees sufficient, relative solitude. "Go on, at ease and tell me what happened."
* Seira looks unusually animated, though manages to keep her excitement down for the most part.
* Berlioz takes off his pocket the scroll that the party obtained from duping the merchant. "We got confirmation on Malmuth's intentions regarding the elven kingdom, as this shows. It is a letter from King Ferdi, with his signature and Malmuth's symbolic seal engraved within."
> "Well now! Thisg ets interesting. So what are they up to exactly?" As sparring practice rages well behind you, your commander looks animated, interested, red faced and waiting.
<Berlioz> "It seems they are interested in establishing trade of rare artifacts, elven wood and general arcane knowledge with the elven kingdom. The initial sealing deal would be trading the sacred blade Elysion for Rings of Teleportation, which I'd assume would be for easier navigation between Malmuth and the elven lands."
> "...yes, that would be bothersome," The Commander stands, scowling. "Bastards! Being able to move where they wish would make spying far easier, not to mention other less savory things. Alright, give me the scroll. I need to pass this up the chain, I think."
* Berlioz hands the scroll to Oberuth quickly, blankly observing his expressions. "Here you go."
<Seira> "Sir," Seira speaks up. "We have set up a second meeting with the Malmuth representative, where we promised to reveal our final answer to their proposal. It is set for six weeks from now in Valandia. What would you like to see done about it? We could refuse further contact, or attempt to create discord between the two sides, just to name two possibilities."
> "Good, make a through writeup since this one will go up a good ways. Excellent work." A nod to each, "Go ahead now, I need to send some-hm? Well now! That is indeed a golden..har! For the moment, nothing. We have six weeks, which is plenty of time to think. This gets into matters were we must be careful, for it could lead to an incident or even war if we were found out and exposed."
* Seira nods at the Commander. "Of course, Sir," she agrees, following with, "May I ask whether men would be assigned to watch the inn where Winston resides?"
> "Discretly, but yes. We'll keep an eye on him as long as he's in town. Just in case." As he heads towards the gates into the garrison proper, "Interested in the duty?"
<Seira> "Our chances to be recognized would grow, especially if they have the misfortune of hearing us speak," Seira responds with a slight frown.
> "Fine," The commander heads inside, "In that case, rest up for now. I'll send word back to all of you when matters are decided on."
<Berlioz> "I will prepare a written report on this mission in the meantime, sir. This is quite a situation we have in hands, and a record would suit us well."
<Shamal> "Ahhh, all in a day's work, isn't it?" Shamal smiles, stretching out her arms. "Anyone have any plans for the next few days? Record-keeping aside, that is."
<Seira> "Only training to improve my skills," Seira responds.
<Lyselle> "Getting around to buying myself some potions..." Lyselle muses, nodding a bit and relaxing. This really isn't something she was tightly involved with!
<Shamal> "Mmm. I think I'll be stopping by the harbour tomorrow - you remember that 'sea elf' we might have seen yesterday, Lyselle?" she asks the fallen noblewoman. "I'm curious enough to go looking, I think."
<Lyselle> "Mm? Oh, yeah," the blonde nods, glancing over at Shamal. "Think it'll still be lurking under the pier?"
<Shamal> "I doubt it, to be honest, but I'm curious enough to look into it," Shamal smiles in reply. "Not even sure if it was an elf to begin with, but still..."
* Seira blinks. "Sea elf?" she asks slowly, turning to face Shamal fully.
<Seira> "This would be the first I hear of elves that live in the sea," Seira muses out loud.
<Shamal> Shamal blushes at the half-elf's scrutiny. "That's what that young guardsman called it - he apparently saw it before we arrived, but we could only see it at a depth, so it was hard to tell exactly what it was."
<Seira> "So there was an elf-sized creature that existed below the water's surface?" she asks in a bid to clarify matters. "For how long at a time?"
* Berlioz whistles, shaking his head at the conversation and serenely considering. "If, somehow, you manage to get confirmation on that, pull me by the arm and drag me there. I'd give a couple limbs to see a fairytale like that with my own eyes."
<Shamal> "Who can say?" Shamal shrugs lightly. "More likely it was a porpoise, although they too are rare in harbours, so it could still warrant looking into."
<Seira> "I agree," Seira muses. "I would like to impose on you and join in on the search."
<Shamal> "By all means, I surely won't mind the company," Shamal smiles. "How about we meet at the harbour tomorrow around midafternoon? That was when we saw it before."
* Seira nods curtly. "Affirmative."
<Berlioz> "For all that it'd be interesting to see what the fuss is all about, I'd probably do best to remain on my record-keeping. If you somehow confirm the existance of the half-elf and need me, fetch me there. Otherwise, I'll decline this adventure", Berlioz deadpans, fixing his monocle.