Cassian returns said greetings in kind.
bluff:
As his eyes pass over Melilot's weapons, a hint of concern enters Azhar's expression, before shifting to a mild curiosity.
Whatever Melilot might notice or fail to notice as her eyes flick over the assemblage, she does not as of yet comment.
As more people come arrive at the riverside tavern, Janiven puts away the tools she was using to effect minor repairs on the old building. She also grabs the serially colored chain shirt from the table where it sat next to a sheathed longsword which she is wearing when she returns fron the backroom. The action calls attention to the longbow on a chair and the aroma of food that is slowly filling the room.
Back in the taproom, Janiven looks to the door clearly still expecting another person. "The food is almost ready but I'd like to wait on one more person." She looks over the people. "I don't suppose any of you feel like introducing yourself?" Her smile is tinged with just a bit of sardonic humor, "I know it seems unlikely to all of you right now, but I think you will come to rely on each other."
"I know it seems unlikely to all of you right now, but I think you will come to rely on each other."
Rev does not look convinced.
Back in the taproom, Janiven looks to the door clearly still expecting another person. "The food is almost ready but I'd like to wait on one more person." She looks over the people. "I don't suppose any of you feel like introducing yourself?" Her smile is tinged with just a bit of sardonic humor, "I know it seems unlikely to all of you right now, but I think you will come to rely on each other."
i am melilot the halfling begins hesitantly. She pauses for a moment, as if pondering whether it would be appropriate to say more. i work as a weaponsmith she adds. After another pause to consider, she says i have skills in other perhaps more relevant areas to some degree as well
Azhar smiles encouragingly at Melilot. "I am Azhar. We...were just making a delivery." He looks around at the others. "I've been told it's fairly obvious what I do."
Azhar smiles encouragingly at Melilot. "I am Azhar. We...were just making a delivery." He looks around at the others. "I've been told it's fairly obvious what I do."
Rev seems to think so.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Azhar smiles encouragingly at Melilot. "I am Azhar. We...were just making a delivery." He looks around at the others. "I've been told it's fairly obvious what I do."
"Children's birthday parties?"
Cassian shrugs, takes a nut from the bowl in front of him, and points to himself. "Cassian." He holds up the nut, claps his hands, and it's gone. "I'm a wizard."
Perception
Sense Motive
Sleight of Hand
Rev smirks. Birthdays.
"Clearly." He says in regards to Cassian being a wizard.
"I'm Rev." He adds.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Cassian shrugs, takes a nut from the bowl in front of him, and points to himself. "Cassian." He holds up the nut, claps his hands, and it's gone. "I'm a wizard."
Perception:
"Really?" Azhar remarks dryly. "& I used to be a sorcerer." He does seem to be mildly amused, "Never more than a few parlor tricks myself though."
so perhaps wizard bard fighter and rogue then Melilot muses, a faint lift at the end turning it into a question rather than a statement. if the one we are waiting on is a cleric i might suspect that an adventuring party is being assembled
An average-sized Human walks over to the group near Janiven. He is dressed like a low-ranking functionary. His eyes are dark, and his hair is light. He is not carrying a visible weapon.
"Ladies, gentlemen, monkey. Greetings," he says, visibly stifling the urge to formally bow.
"Now that the cleric is here, can we get to the point?" Rev says evenly to Janiven.
The monkey looks suspiciously at the nut in his paw, glances at the pale-haired human, then returns to determining the danger inherent in the nut.
Janiven nods greetings, a little of the nervousness that had been building easing. "Everyone was just getting to know everyone and now that you're here I'll bring out the food and I can go over why I asked you all here in just a bit." She nods in acknowledgement of Rev's point. She glances at the sunlight coming in the windows and the sparsely occupied street.
She heads into the back and returns with a heavy pot filled with stew and a basket with what smells like recently baked bread. She fills her own bowl and takes some of the bread, taking a bite of each. "It's not great, but it is filling." Her tone wry.
She looks towards the door again, just a shadow of a frown on her honest face.
The average-sized Human takes some stew and bread. "My name is Gravlax," he says, and starts to eat. Carefully, so as not to spill on his clothing.
She looks towards the door again, just a shadow of a frown on her honest face.
"What's on your mind?" Rev asks Janiven as she frowns.
He takes some food, waiting for the stew to cool in his bowl before he partakes.
so perhaps wizard bard fighter and rogue then Melilot muses, a faint lift at the end turning it into a question rather than a statement. if the one we are waiting on is a cleric i might suspect that an adventuring party is being assembled
Azhar's gaze flicks to Melilot again for an instant, showing a modicum of interest before filling a bowl of stew and putting it in front of her with a piece of bread. "& assuming that was the case, who then is who?" he asks questioningly, but does not seem to look like he is seriously looking for an answer.
Azhar turns and makes a bowl for himself as well. His head then turns towards the "functionary" and says, "Gravlax? Azhar" nods slightly, "Rev, Melilot, Cassian" looking at each in turn. He returns to his seat next to Rev, sits and dips his bread in the stew before taking a bite, then apparently noticing Janiven's glance inquires "expecting someone else?"
At Rev and Azhar's question there is a moment of indecision on the raven-haired woman's face, her green eyes drop for a second to the table in front of her and when she looks back up she has regained the calm she had before. "It's silly when there is still a few hours until the sun sets, but I was keeping an eyes on the time."
An absolutely horrible liar, it is plainly obvious that while what she said is not a lie, it is in no way the only thing that is on the woman's mind.
"we are never going to get anywhere if you don't come out with the truth." Rev tells Janiven. "The night is fast approaching... ecettera and so on and so forth, now why are we all here?"
Patience is apparently not one of Rev's strong suits.
Azhar looks up over his bowl of stew. He continues to eat..shall we say, 'patiently'?
Rev's eyes narrow at the food in front of him for a long moment, as he waits for Janiven to answer.
Janiven looks directly at the man slightly younger than herself and decidedly takes a bite of the bread, clearly not continuing her portion of the meeting until people have been given time to eat.
...His head then turns towards the "functionary" and says, "Gravlax? Azhar" nods slightly, "Rev, Melilot, Cassian" looking at each in turn. He returns to his seat next to Rev, sits and dips his bread in the stew before taking a bite, then apparently noticing Janiven's glance inquires "expecting someone else?"
"Oh..& monkey. With a nut." Azhar says, eying the monkey looking suspiciously at the nut in its paw.
Janiven looks directly at the slightly younger man and decidedly takes a bite of the bread, clearly not continuing her portion of the meeting until people have been given time to eat.
There is a twinkle in Azhar's eyes. He takes a swig of ale and continues to eat.
Cassian accepts soup and bread. He talks with his mouth full and gestures with a heel of stew-soaked bread. "I'm going to be very disappointed in you if this is one of those 'poison the hirelings and give them the antidote when they return' deals. Wouldn't put it past the other part of that mysterious 'we' to let you eat a drugged meal to earn trust." Cassian drinks some of the ale.
He swallows. His eyes, deep blue, seem to darken. He leans forward, addressing Janiven directly. Gaze locked on hers. His hand strays to to the hilt of his rapier. Menace fills his voice. "The last woman who tried that..."
He leans back in his chair, bright again. "...never got that date she so desperately wanted but was too shy to ask for."
He turns his attention back to the stew. "Come on, now. Tell us why you gathered us here. Give us something to take our minds off the taste of rat."
The smile that quirks up the left side of her lip softens the sarcastic lift of eyebrow, "I find drugged meals trite and over-used in the pantheon of villain cliches." A pause,"But I've also never had any problem being quite clear in what I want."
A much longer pause, "Rat?" She takes another bite of the stew, "Could have sworn I paid for better..." A quick glance at the windows, "I promise I'll be done and you'll have plenty of time to get where you need to be before curfew, but I'd like to let you finish eating." A smile, but not a happy one, and her voice drops, hard to hear, "Most of us can't see in the dark and I need to close the shutters and door so our voices won't carry." Absolutely serious, "It's safe enough here, but it's still Westcrown."
Azhar continues to eat, apparently completely unconcerned. When he finishes, he pushes back from the table and waits contentedly.
Cassian shrugs and goes back to his meal.
Rev meets Janiven's gaze as she looks at him. He smiles at her stubbornness, apparently amused. Once Janiven looks away, perhaps to meet Cassian's eyes or perhaps for whatever other reason, Rev begins to eat.
He doesn't dunk the bread in the stew, rather he eats it after he has finished the food in his bowl. Maybe he doesn't like soggy bread.
Azhar's gaze flicks to Melilot again for an instant, showing a modicum of interest before filling a bowl of stew and putting it in front of her with a piece of bread. "& assuming that was the case, who then is who?" he asks questioningly, but does not seem to look like he is seriously looking for an answer.
well cassian has already confessed to wizardry Melilot replies anyway as she accepts the bread and stew with a polite nod of thanks. and since you are an entertainer of children with the force of personality to dabble in sorcery you are no doubt our bard
She eats some small spoonfulls of the stew. your companion of course has the not overly trusting nature that is one of the hallmarks of the rogueish type she continues. and that leaves gravlax as a cleric by process of elimination
It is entirely possible that she has been joking, since the whole of the above was said with the kind of deadpan flattened affect normally reserved for answers to questions such as "Where did you hid the rest of the bodies?" Of course, it is also possible that she has not been joking, for much the same reason.
She appears to have finished her meal.
"I see." Azhar says simply, then continues "what I once was or was not has no bearing, unfortunately, on what I am now. No magic remains, except..." his voice trails off as his left hand unfurls, then clenches. He apparently has decided against an impromptu demonstration. "I really do miss heavenly fire" is muttered under his breath, probably to himself. He shakes his head. "Suffice it to say, I am not an entertainer by trade."
As soon as people seem to be done with their food, Janiven moves to the front of the Tavern, closing and shuttering the windows. Then with a final look at the sunlight street of late afternoon, she closes the door. Walking over to the bar, she visibly steadies her hands.
Turning to the six in the tavern, she half smiles, "Again... Thank you all for agreeing to meet with me. Each of you were chosen for a simple purpose - everyone here, has suffered because of the darkness that controls Westcrown. I have lived here my whole life, and while I love her, reality demands we know, that despite her peace and prosperity, the city continues to suffer and decline."
She breaths out heavily, sad memory shadowing her eyes, "Fear should not be an expected part of life," her voice firm determined, then with just the edge of long known anger, "yet each night here bring fear to every doorstep."
Her voice quiet, "Yes. Westcrown has been safe," her voice biting and bitter, "from war and famine for nearly seventy years." Barely a pause, her voice gaining strength, "And yes, individual businesses have prospered." Barely managing to cut off a scoff, "But this and has been bought in the coin of fear. In prayers to Hell."
Her voice gaining strength, a depth, darkened by belief, "Other lands live free free from tyranny. Other cities fear the night. Other governments cede the streets to monsters of infernal shade."
She pauses, just for a moment, for a breath. Her voice quieter again, hopeful, "Westcrown was once such a place, and she wants to be such again. Westcrown is not just a place. Just streets, canals, and buildings." Shaking her head, "Westcrown is her people. Our friends and neighbors. Mothers and fathers. Sisters. Brothers and cousins. Mentors." Her smile grows more confident, sure. "With a small group of supporters... We can earn the trust and admiration of all of those people."
A pause, almost a hesitation, "And a Westcrown free of the shadow beasts that stalk our streets is one step closer to a Westcrown free of the devil that is the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune."
Azhar seemed to be perceptive to what Janiven was saying. A little less so once she mentions earning "the trust and admiration" of others. He pauses, considering her words for a few moments before speaking. "You want us to find and eliminate monsters that prowl the streets at night...as a first step." There is no question in his tone and intonation. It is said as more of a statement, but his slightly raised eyebrow does seem to be looking for confirmation.
"I see." Azhar says simply, then continues "what I once was or was not has no bearing, unfortunately, on what I am now. No magic remains, except..." his voice trails off as his left hand unfurls, then clenches. He apparently has decided against an impromptu demonstration. "I really do miss heavenly fire" is muttered under his breath, probably to himself. He shakes his head. "Suffice it to say, I am not an entertainer by trade."
Rev looks like he's probably entertained.
"Treason costs extra," Cassian says. "A great deal extra."
Azhar seemed to be perceptive to what Janiven was saying. A little less so once she mentions earning "the trust and admiration" of others. He pauses, considering her words for a few moments before speaking. "You want us to find and eliminate monsters that prowl the streets at night...as a first step." There is no question in his tone and intonation. It is said as more of a statement, but his slightly raised eyebrow does seem to be looking for confirmation.
Rev's entertained look becomes decidedly resigned.
There is no question in his tone and intonation. It is said as more of a statement, but his slightly raised eyebrow does seem to be looking for confirmation.
Janiven nods once.
"Treason costs extra," Cassian says. "A great deal extra."
"The crown claims to have nothing to do with the night stalkers. Making it so that people don't have to huddle in their houses when the sun sets isn't treason in and of itself." Her voice quiet, "But, yes, treason costs extra. And the benefits are far greater." She smiles, "And I could have lied, but I don't trick the people that I want to be able to trust."
There is a glimmer of hope in the green eyes, after all, no one has bolted.
Azhar listens to Cassian, then notices his brothers look. He grins, his gaze shifts back to Janiven. "I am Azhar, I will help you." His statement is said with a quiet confidence. It is said like it's supposed to mean something. Though maybe to just one or two people in the room, including himself. But is it more that he really wants to help or just to spite Rev?
His eyes meet Janiven's, calm and self assured.
"Treason," Gravlax says slowly, "is illegal."
His mouth stays neutral, but his eyes frown. "I have a friend who is interested in making things better. I think he will help."
Azhar's eyes flick to Gravlax, there is a hint of momentary surprise which changes to a smile that stays hidden just below the surface.
"Treason," Gravlax says slowly, "is illegal."
His mouth stays neutral, but his eyes frown. "I have a friend who is interested in making things better. I think he will help."
To Janiven: "Good idea bringing a hellknight plant to this little meeting of yours. I'm certain his 'friend' would love putting the lot of us in irons." He stands, stretches. "If you'll excuse me, I'm far too pretty to see the inside of Westcrown's dungeons."
Cassian heads for the door.
To Janiven: "Good idea bringing a hellknight plant to this little meeting of yours. I'm certain his 'friend' would love putting the lot of us in irons." He stands, stretches. "If you'll excuse me, I'm far too pretty to see the inside of Westcrown's dungeons."
Cassian heads for the door.
Gravlax moves to intercept Cassian. "Please do not leave until the meeting is adjourned," he says.
Janiven's voice is not loud, but carries, comfortable with command, "Gravalax. Everyone I asked here today came of their own will and I promised that it didn't obligate them to anything. If Cassian wants to leave, do not stop" She cuts off the the remainder of her words as she hears light footsteps running outside followed by a frantic knocking at the door.
"F#%%," the epithet quiet, but no less powerful for the volume. Grabbing the longsword from its sheath on the table, Janiven moves to the door, opening the viewing slide. "Desnus's eyes," the swear far less angry, but filled with worry. She quickly opens the door and pulls in a small blonde boy of maybe 10 year who is panting and shaking with exertion.
His wide brown eyes look up at Janiven, not even noticing the rest of the people in the tavern, not quite a scream, but pushed from his lungs with terror,
As she slams the door behind the child, the look on her face is plain. 'And you lead them straight to us.'
As she pushes the panting child toward the kitchen with a quick order of "Secret door. NOW!" those of you who ears are trained for it can hear the tread of heavily armored soles still distant, but coming closer.
"An inauspicious beginning," Gravlax says, turning to follow the child. "Well met, people whose names I do not remember."
Cassian's fingers were drumming lightly on the handle of his rapier as he sized Gravlax up. As the announcement comes, the hand leaves the rapier and he heaves a disappointed sigh. "Sounds like your friend got here just in time, plant."
Cassian follows the kid to the secret door. "How many outside, kid?"
Melilot, who stayed quietly watchful when the confrontation between Cassian and Gravlax began, likewise follows the child towards the secret door. As she moves, she draws something that looks somewhat like a slingshot.
The kid, near tears, starts pulling at a pile of boxes which move as whole, slowly. Blinking up at Cassian and Gravalax behind him, he hiccups slightly as he almost chokes on air, "Master Arael was just helping some of the poor up in dead sector." The kid blurts out, "And then the dottari just arrested him, beat him." Looks at one and then the other, "He hadn't done anything. And then the Rack showed up, demanding that they get custody of the rebel."
He chokes back a little sob, pulling on a trapdoor built into the cabinet the boxes had been hiding. "Master is a healer. He just wants to help people." He says with the faith that only the young can have.
Then his eyes go even wider, he whispers, terrified, "Over a dozen."
In the tap room, Janiven maneuvers the heavy bar to keep the door closed for an extra minute or so once the Hellknights arrive and then turn to the others. "Please come with me. The Rack has already decided that anyone Arael or I associate with are rebels. Even if you don't want a part of what we are doing, come with me now, please. I know some of the paths through the sewers to other parts of the city."
Gravlax follows Janiven, but not before turning to Cassian. "If you kill me, one of us will regret it."
In the sewers, Gravlax takes a great deal of care to keep his clothing clean.
Azhar listens to Cassian, then notices his brothers look. He grins, his gaze shifts back to Janiven. "I am Azhar, I will help you." His statement is said with a quiet confidence. It is said like it's supposed to mean something. Though maybe to just one or two people in the room, including himself. But is it more that he really wants to help or just to spite Rev?
His eyes meet Janiven's, calm and self assured.
Rev rolls his eyes.