Diego/Teresina:
Teresina easily parries Diego's blade, then sets herself for an attack...
... but cannot bring herself to strike. "Why didn't you wear a mask or something?"
Theo/Bettino:
Theo's opponent gasps as his rapier finds a sheath under her ribs, straight through a chink in her armor. She staggers back a step or two, then crumples to the ground as her rapier drops from her nerveless fingers.
Combat on the ground has ceased, while Diego and Teresina trade barbs (if not blows) on a swaying bridge between two areas of scaffolding.
Thaddeo lies on the ground, attended by Liborio. Bettino also lies on the ground before Theo.
Domenico, Arabela, and Bettino are bloodied but still stand. Captain Mola haltingly moves to Bettino's side, crouching to check if her guardsman still breathes.
Theo and Vittorio find that they have bested their opponents and are untouched, without even an injury to their clothing.
Theo quickly kneels to check on Bettino make sure she is breathing steadily, and isn't bleeding too badly. He looks up and quickly stands as the captain approaches, and gives a quick bow. "Lady captain, I err... do not think her wound is serious. M'lady fought valiantly, it is only luck that I stand, and she is down."
The catfolk quickly scritches out something on a small scrap of parchment, and hands it to Captain Mola "Could you possibly see that she gets this ma'am? Umm... my coordinates, should she have any desire to contact me."
Theo collects his rapier carefully cleaning and sheathing it before he heads over to join Domenico "It appears the man got the best of you"
Diego/Teresina:
Teresina easily parries Diego's blade, then sets herself for an attack...
... but cannot bring herself to strike. "Why didn't you wear a mask or something?"
"What? And deny the world this?!?" Diego asks in mock astonishment, flamboyantly indicating his face.
And then Diego makes another attempt to bounce his way to victory!
But alas, while his footing his sure, Diego's point work seems to be suffering from his precarious perch.
Diego decides to try a different approach,...
;P
"Well, occasionally you must sit back and admire the fighting of your comrades," says Domenico to Theo, "Though it seems more like Diego and Teresina are flirting than fighting. Come on! A bit less dancing, a bit more blood!"
"Why can't we have both?!?" Diego calls back. He waves, looks like he might lose his balance, recovers, and waves again.
Vittorio settles in to watch, chuckling at Diego's response. "That would explain why you have trouble keeping a girlfriend."
Diego/Teresina:
"Huh. You don't look half as nice now as you did a moment ago." Teresina tries a swift attack, but waves her arm to keep her balance on the bridge, and her attack swings quite wide of Deigo.
"Damn and blast!"
Theo: Bettino's breathing is good and her eyelids begin to flutter even as Captain Mola shoves his note into her belt pouch with her sword hand, having once again tucked her off arm into her tabard.
Mola kneels beside Bettino to try to rouse her as the catman joins his unlucky companion.
Diego/Teresina:
"Huh. You don't look half as nice now as you did a moment ago." Teresina tries a swift attack, but waves her arm to keep her balance on the bridge, and her attack swings quite wide of Deigo.
"Damn and blast!"
"Aw now, That's just the lighting. YOUR just as lovely as ever! Whoops! Mind your blade luv! We don't want to hit the face, remember?" Diego grins.
Diego's eyes widen as the rickety bridge shifts and bounces under their movements, and Diego's arms go wide as if trying to recover his balance,...
,...and when Teresina reacts to take advantage of Diego's momentary lapse in balance, the wily warrior springs again, catching the guardswoman unprepared.
Unfortunately, Diego fears he may have underestimated the durability of Teresina's armor, as his attack was more forceful than he intended,...
Teresina laughs as Diego pretends to lose his balance. Expecting him to fall, she is taken completely by surprise when he "recovers", but manages to keep her own balance and make another weak thrust before Diego skewers her.
Though she flinches back from the injury, she manages to keep her balance - barely - and stagger to the platform behind her.
"You... you have the honor... of first blood," she rasps, dropping the point of her blade and pressing her free hand to her thigh to staunch the flow of blood.
Diego salutes Teresina with his blade and sheathes it. He then bounces lightly across the unstable boards and moves to join her on the platform. He draws a handkerchief and offers it to her.
"May I?" Diego asks with a raised eyebrow, indicating her wound.
"I, have some experience in such things. Seems a shame for such a perfectly honorable, and lovely, lady to to go pale from blood loss. Of course, I find that a good drink often makes such wounds seem to vanish almost magically. Or at least they seem to vanish when your too drunk to feel them. Would you care for a sip?" And he pulls out his pocket flask with his other hand.
"For medicinal purposes. Of course. I would never dream of taking advantage of a wounded lady." Diego adds hastily. HE stands there, with handkerchief and flask held out in either hand, waiting for her reaction.
(Either she'll accept, or try to slap him, or pass out from blood loss. Or some interesting combination of the three. Either way, Diego looks forward to the next few moments even more than he did the dancing duel on the boards.)
Several things then happen nearly simultaneously, as things are wont to do.
Captain Mola, with some difficulty caused by her rather deep and painful wound, pulls the dazed but conscious Bettina to her feet. Both guardswomen waver slightly but remain standing.
The sound of clopping hooves and rumbling wheels approaches the yard, but before anyone has time to be alarmed at the interruption, Cambino, Theo’s man, pops through the gates. ”My lord Theo, I fetched a carriage for the wounded, as you ordered.” His youthful features radiate obedient innocence, though Theo gave him no such order.
The captain looks surprised, but ventures a tentative bow in Theo’s direction. ”That was thoughtful and foresighted of you, sir. If we might use it in your stead, I’d be grateful.”
Teresina sheathes her own blade and regards the proffered handkerchief and flask for a moment. Just as she opens her mouth to reply to Diego…
Thaddeus’s voice bellows loud and strong from where he lies on the ground.
Liborio springs to his feet and exchanges a look with Captain Mola. He races for the foot of the ladder. Arabela hisses at Thaddeus, ”What are you doing? Dueling is forbidden! We could all be arrested if the dottari come!” But she’s in no condition to do any more and starts staggering to the coach with Bettino. ”Wounded in the carriage, NOW!” she yells to her squad.
”Uh… catch you later, my lord,” Cambino stutters at Theo before he disappears from the gate and into the darkness of the streets beyond.
”I just got this post, and I’m not gonna lose it like I lost this duel,” Teresina yelps, and starts down the ladder. Her injured leg dangles as she uses her good leg and the strength of her arms to lower herself as quickly as she can.
"Thaddeus, you rube," admonishes Domenico, springing to his feet with an annoyed expression. "How you make a small part of me wish that my friends were in fact murderers."
To his companions, he claps his hands together amicably, "You all did very well! Perhaps it is time to make a hasty return to somewhere that is not about to be overrun."
”I just got this post, and I’m not gonna lose it like I lost this duel,” Teresina yelps, and starts down the ladder. Her injured leg dangles as she uses her good leg and the strength of her arms to lower herself as quickly as she can.
Diego observes Teresina descend the ladder, injured, with an appreciative eye of her athletic prowess. Shrugging, he takes a healthy swig of his flask.
"So, maybe NEXT time then!?!" Diego calls, waving at Teresina's fair and retreating form.
"Thaddeus, you rube," admonishes Domenico, springing to his feet with an annoyed expression. "How you make a small part of me wish that my friends were in fact murderers."
"Thaddeus! You can be replaced with something small, slimy, brown and generally foul-smelling. What was it? Oh yes, HORSE-POCKY! You uneducated imbecile. I KNOW your stupid enough to try to get us arrested to cover your own combative inadequacies. But I didn't know you were stupid enough to get yourself arrested too! Well, learn something new every day. Jack@$$!" Diego salutes Thaddeus' inured form with his flask and takes another swig.
To his companions, Domenico claps his hands together amicably, "You all did very well! Perhaps it is time to make a hasty return to somewhere that is not about to be overrun."
Diego tucks away his flask and kerchief, and grabs the side of the ladder that Teresina just used, using his gloved hands and booted feet on the outside of the ladder to ride it down much faster than it's builders intended. On the ground he dashes towards his friends.
"Domenico has the right idea I'm afraid. Who's injured? A quick swig of Cayden's best and we'll be back to swigging the local swill before the local gendarmes have their heads out of their collective arses!" Diego pants out, smiling.
Carriage? Did I order a carriage? Well if Cambino brought it, it must be trustworthy
Theo blinks briefly then nods his head "Err yes, of course m'lady you are welcome to it, as my good man has said the carriage is for the wounded."
Theo's feline features turn to a scowl hearing Thaddeus crying out "Unspeakable cad..." He grumbles before turning to the others getting into the carriage "You would do well to rid yourself of that one his lack of any honour or courage clearly does not fit in with the rest of you."
Returning to the others the catman nods in agreement to Domenico "You're right of course my friend, we should secure a hasty retreat. Perhaps we should follow after my man Cambino." He holds up a hand and shakes his head to refuse Diego's offer "I am uninjured you should keep your swill for another. Domenico, are you in need?"
Vittorio growls, "The only thing murdered here is your reputation, and that by your own hand. The only thing stolen is the honour of your unit and companions, and that by your actions. Which makes you the thief, the murderer.. and none of us would argue that you have a most severe need of help."
He spits, "You were defeated in fair combat, cur... And as you panic, scream, moan and whine about how easily you might have bled out, soiling your fancy cloak with a brown stain to match the red one I gave you -- just remember how easily I ran you through... and what that means in terms of my ability to do it again... And how you've shown me that tending you're wound and saving your life wasa mistake."
He spits on Thaddeus a second time, then turns to his friends, "Let's go and find ourselves alibis before we're snared in the crap coming out of his mouth... Or have to smell it's leaking out of his bottom."
Unperturbed by Theo's refusal to sample his flask, Diego raises an eyebrow at the normally more stoic Vittorio's outburst.
"I'll drink to that!" Diego salutes once more with his flask and matches words to actions.
"Lead onward then Noble Cambino! If you have no where suitable to go, I know a place,..." Diego offers, drawing groans and head shakes from his friends, who are quite certain that any 'place' Diego knows involves a close proximity to, and availability of, alcohol.
"Our noble Cambino has already his speedy departure, he's not one to procrastinate, and we would do well to follow if we're to catch up. I do hope he has a safe house in mind... your 'places' tend to be too conspicuous for my liking Emil."
With a nod to Domenico's wound he the catman adds "Do you need a shoulder?" If Domenico asks for assistance Theo will lend a hand otherwise he'll hussle off in the direction Cambino left.
"My thanks, but no, my friend!" replies Domenico to Theo, though he reaches to Emiliano's flask to take a drink. "A man must learn to grin through his wounds after all! On we go, then!" He follows after Theo.
Liborio hustles Teresina into the carriage while Captain Mola does the same with Bettino. The captain returns to her fallen man, but Thaddeus waves her off and continues to bellow for the guard. Captain Mola limps to the carriage, pulls herself into the seat next to the driver. She speaks to the driver, who whips up the horses.
As Vittorio berates and spits on him where he lies, Thaddeus pauses in his calls for the guard to snarl, "You will pay for this, rube. You and all the rest. Not for the blade - any man can stand that - but for your insults."
Faint calls, footsteps, and the clanking of weapons echo through the empty and relatively quiet streets to the south. Either the dottari have heard the alarm and are responding to Thaddeus' bellows, or concerned citizens are approaching and will be there within a minute or so.
The fleet Cambino dashed off to the east, opposite the carriage's direction.
Domenico is much too concerned making haste to pay attention to anything that is happening. The gambler keeps just behind Theo in his run.
"Pity, You'd think the fellow would be USED to dealing with insults by now! Some are just slow learners I guess!" Diego Laughs as they follow Cambino with jolly haste. The dandy pauses only long enough to bow and doff his hat to the shouting Thaddeus before turning a corner and vanishing from sight.
Vittorio says, "Aye, and if you were a man, you'd have taken it," and then turns on his heel, racing after Diego.
Theo's keen ears pick up captain Mola's instructions to the driver, but he heads off in the opposite direction after Cambino.
A hiss from a dark alley proves that Cambino has not, in fact, left the guards to their own devices. He beckons them to follow as the sounds of approaching dottari grow louder.
In a squalid street, he pauses to pull open a slanted set of double doors, revealing a set of brick steps down into a basement. As everyone crams into the stairway, he murmurs, "Close those doors." Once the outer doors are closed, he opens the inner door - a rough, low one - and steps through.
A crockery mug whirs past Cambino's head to smash against the wall beyond as he ducks with practiced ease.
"Milord, I've brought guests. Sorry to drop in unannounced," Cambino says blandly, unfazed by the strange greeting.
"You're always welcome here, young scamp!" A wheezy voice bellows the welcome. "And bring your friends. New people are always interesting."
A pale, wrinkled man reclines in a low chair near a smoky fire. One leg is propped on a footstool while the other seems to be missing from just above the knee. Across him from the fire, a humanoid figure rises suddenly, drawing a veil across its face as it backs into shadows. Its eyes glint red from where it stands, otherwise wreathed in darkness.
Cambino bows and ushers everyone in to the low, cramped room. Chairs and low tables are scattered oddly around between bookshelves. Great empty spaces gape between the sparse books. Cambino bows again to their host, who does not rise. "My lord, these are my... friends. There seems to be a spot of trouble in the streets, so we thought it would be good to take shelter for a few minutes." He turns to the party and bows. "My lords, this is my teacher and mentor, Godlas Kelvyre. He taught me everything I know."
Godlas beckons the group in. "Welcome. Don't stand on ceremony. Come in and have a seat. Cambino, fetch wine. You know where it is. New friends, please don't blame me for the vacancy between young Cambino's ears. I did my best to fill it." Though the invalid is elderly and rather rotund, his eyes are sharp and clear. He looks the newcomers up and down curiously.
The figure in the shadows neither moves nor speaks.
Always looking for new friends, or at least new drinking buddies, Diego steps forward and extends his hand in greeting.
"Well met Master Kelvyre! Emiliano Diego Thanos, at your service! Delighted to make your acquaintance. We are all grateful for your hospitality on such short notice." Diego introduces himself grinning.
"Please, do not blame Cambino Good sir. I'm afraid that he fell in with a bad crowd. Through no fault of his own, he has ended up associating with drunken rapscallions, well-intentioned if easily-distracted do-gooders. Swashbucklers all. Such folk simply cannot be trusted!" He rambles on freely, grinning as he relaxes with one hand patently obviously resting upon the hilt of his sword pommel.
"May I offer YOU a drink? In payment of your kindness?" Diego adds, holding out a flask towards the gentleman. Still grinning.
Diego either has failed to notice the figure in the shadows, or figures that he does not wish to be seen, and is successfully ignoring him thus far.
"Forgive me for not rising." The seated man holds out his hand for Diego to wring, then accepts a swig from his flask, wiping his mouth on his sleeve while he returns Diego's potion. "Whew! Good! And no worries about Cambino. He simply went from one good-for-nothing company to another. I'm glad to make your acquaintance. It's very kind of you to visit. I don't get out much."
Vittorio bursts out laughing, "Aye, that he did... and likely a worse one, at that." He steps forward, then bows with a flourish, "Vittorio di Stamenus, pleased to meet you... Though, when you speak of interesting people, I must say I'm reminded of the ancient Tian curse about living in 'interesting' times?"
Godlas bows at the waist from where he sits. "Believe me, the pleasure is mine, Vittorio. It's much more exciting being a spectator in interesting times than a participant, I think. Less dangerous, anyway." He eyes their assortment of well-used steel. "Somehow, I don't think you are spectators."
"Sometimes I spectate. Why, I spectated only minutes ago! It does not suit me," says Domenico with a smile that does not touch his eyes.
His eyes flick momentarily towards the shadows of the room, but the smile remains on his face. "I am Domenico. Domenico Acerbi."
Godlas pauses a moment before favoring Domenico with a tight smile. "Indeed, young Domenico. Sometimes spectating is forced upon us, despite our wishes. You, though, do not look like one to stand idle for long." He absently rubs the stump of his leg as Cambino returns with a bottle and begins decanting a deep, rich, red wine into rough goblets.
Godlas turns his attention to Theo. "And you must be Sieur Baskin, the gentleman my Cambino is so attached to. It is a very great pleasure to meet you after all this time. I hope we can be friends; I crave to know more of this wastrel who too seldom comes to visit." He waves a hand to the shadows. "And this is my friend from far away, come to visit and discuss business. But that will wait while we have a glass and wait for the streets to clear."
The figure hesitantly advances from the shadows and bows with hand to breast in a foreign manner. "Peace and blessings on you all. I am... Qareen." The smoky voice lays the expectation of the dusky woman's face revealed when she drops the veil, her eyes and hair both alive with wavering flames. With an uncertain glance at Godlas, she continues in her low voice, "I am no devil and have no wish to bring harm to you, be assured."
Theo bows to Godlas removing his hat "Yes Milord, though please call me Theo as all my friends do. I must thank you for your diligence teaching Cambino, I would say you have filled his head quite well. His skills and quick thinking have proven him an indispensable companion, and he's pulled me out of many a tight spot." The catfolk's eyes flick between his other companions and he smiles a bit thinking of Diego's comment "Maybe we should find a more respectable crowd, and we wouldn't find ourselves in so many tight spots."
When Qareen comes to introduce herself Theo turns and bows to her as well. "A genuine pleasure to make your acquaintance milady. Do not fear, although we are somewhat rough around the edges, we are no devils either, unless you count the handsome variety. We don't wish any harm either."
Diego laughs aloud at Theo's comments. A short bark of genuine mirth. The dandy punches the cat-man on the shoulder.
"Hah! I see what you did there! 'Devilishly handsome' indeed! I knew you had the makings of a punster inside! We'll have you quipping during duels in no time!" Diego laughs.
He then turns back to the now unveiled Qareen and bows low to the dark-skinned beauty. Although he bows low, his eyes never leave the woman's face.
"The pleasure is most assuredly mine milady. May the peace of a good drink and the blessings of a good time be yours as well." Diego returns the woman's foreign greeting with an enthusiastic, paraphrased version of one of his own Power's common blessings.
Diego starts to hold out his flask again, then hesitates, his eyes flickering back and forth between Qareen and Godlas uncertainly.
"I beg your pardon Lady, I wished to offer you a friendly drink in way of greeting, and I would NEVER insult a woman by being so bold as to ask her personal questions when we've only just met, but,... are those real or illusion?" He asks, gesturing to Qareen's flickering hair. There is nothing on the young dandy's face except genuine, innocent, curiosity.
"Apologies for my asking, but alcohol and flames mix about as well as THIS group and boredom!" he adds with a disarming smile, chucking a thumb over his shoulder at his companions.
Diego continues to hold the flask out halfway, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"You are mistaken, sayidi. You are quite bold enough to ask a woman personal questions when you've just met. My hair is at least as real as yours. As to its nature, one who is blessed by the gods with quick wits might notice its effects on my cloak or hood or veil." The smoky voice is laced with crackling edges and the flame of her eyes grows redder. Qareen makes no move to accept the flask.
Diego slaps a hand over his heart, as if wounded, then turns it into another bow, lower this time.
"You are quite right milady. On both counts! My sincere apologies and gratitude. Every once in a while I need to be reminded that I'm not, always, as clever as I think I am." He smiles.
Diego salutes Qareen with the flask, holds it up high briefly, (His friends realize this is a silent benediction to his Patron Power) and takes a sip. He then offers the flask once more to Qareen.
With a tiny shake of her head, Quareen declines the flask. "Graciously spoken. And should you need another reminder, I am happy to oblige." A tiny smile softens her rejoinder.
"You are welcome to take a seat and rest yourselves, my new friends. Stay as long as you like; though I have only one guest room, and the lady has claimed that." Godlas waves to the odd assortment of chairs, with varying sizes, finishes, and comfort levels between them. Some look child-sized -- or halfling-sized -- while others look sturdy enough to seat a minotaur.
Cambino offers full wine glasses to everyone, then drifts to Theo's side, a slightly worried frown on his youthful face. "What of the others, milord? They will be waiting for you in the tavern. Or maybe not waiting and walking into a herd of dottari. Do you want me to fetch them here, or take word that all is well? One person may be able to slip through the streets unnoticed where a crowd would raise suspicion."
Diego bows his head at Quareen with a small smile, and gladly accepts a glass of wine from Cambino.
At Cambino's inquiry, Diego raises an eyebrow. With a glance at his friends, he asks their host,
"Is everything Alright? We didn't mean to cause you any trouble. Is there something we can do to help in some way? it would be only fair payment for our unexpected visit this evening."
Godlas shakes his head. "You've made no trouble for me, though I don't know what trouble you might have made for yourself, friends. I am merely a port in a storm. The dottari, while sometimes as troublesome as stirges, do not tend to linger where they are not needed. Your visit, while enjoyable to a housebound old man like myself, will likely be short. And there is nothing I need assistance with." He regards Qareen thoughtfully for a moment. "Yet. It might be handy to have able legs to run, er, errands if need be, now that my pupils has found a more active master." He shakes a threatening fist in Cambino's direction, smiling. Cambino bows, returning the smile.
At the Lush Leech:
Zöe, having finished her performance a quarter-hour ago, has picked up her earnings (except for four gleaming coppers still on the floor) and seated herself next to Marea, sipping an ale to refresh her dry throat.
Zöe sighs. "I wonder where they've gone and if they are all right. We don't know anything about these "Cardinal's Guards". Maybe they are hired mercenaries sent to kill the house guards." She frowns prettily into her mug.
Marea rolls her eyes. "He'll be fine. Egorian's just another city with ordinary people. And a few devils, of course. But people are pretty much the same everywhere. There aren't any supermen. And why would anyone hire killers for our friends? Don't be silly, girl."
Zöe pointedly ignores the change in pronoun, favors Marea with a tiny glare, and nods towards the two elves in the corner. "Think we should join them? Serana barely noticed Domenico leave. They must be discussing something quite... absorbing."
Marea shrugs, but turns her attention to the corner. "Perhaps." Soon, her halfling curiosity overcomes her wisdom. "Definitely." The two women set down coin on the bar and take their drinks to join the twosome in the corner. Soon, all are deep in conversation.
Theo chuckles softly at Diego's light punch "Well if I've learned anything from you it's that one must impress with looks and wit, and when that doesn't work, drink until it does." The catfolk notes as Diego attempts to pass around his flask again. "And although I seem to have a similar aptitude for turning heads the looks I receive do not seem as admiring, I also lack your enthusiasm for the drink. I must make up ground somewhere."
"Though we jest we are interested in you milady, I have always been a curious sort. Perhaps if you share some of that curiosity we could exchange stories?"
Theo accepts the wine from Cambino, then pauses listening to the man "Yes of course you are right, the others will be worried considering the manner in which we left, and especially if they heard the cry for the guards. I agree it may be easier for one to move than the lot of us and as you only joined us at the end it's unlikely the dottari have your description you will likely be able to move freely. Give them word we are well, and we will meet up with them once everything has calmed down." Considering her apparent apprehension greeting them Theo presumed Qareen would probably be more comfortable if fewer people knew she was here anyway "I would say we've invaded our gracious host, and our fair lady Qareen's peace more than enough already. If we're unable to get away sooner we'll meet up with the others in the morning"
Cambino bows, cracks open the door, listens for a moment, then scampers through.
Qareen hesitates. "I came her to consult with Master Kelvyre. He is a great scholar, unappreciated in this land."
Domenico tosses a coin from his belt up in the air and catches it in his open palm. It falls flat against his palm.
He regards the face of the coin for a couple of moments before glancing up towards Qareen. "We may be able to assist you if you are looking for aid, despite not being scholarly gentlemen. Though sometimes when you have information at hand, then it becomes a matter for men of bold action. I do not believe that chance is simply that, and so our meeting by chance may well be a meeting by fate." The corners of his lips turn upwards in a smile.
Qareen waits a beat, then two, then nods ever so slightly. "It is sometimes so," she replies, an odd hiss mingling with her musical foreign accent, "Some meetings are fated, and some are chance. The gods alone can grant us the wisdom to know the difference. But there is nothing sinister or difficult about my task here." Her glowing eyes flicker dark for an instant as she blinks. "Not in normal lands, anyway. Cheliax is difficult for those of us in other lands to fathom. The law is strict yet... opportune? Is that the right word? Convenient? Yes. Convenient for those in authority."
She pauses for a drink then continues, musing as if to herself. "Have you never wondered why the great presses of Cheliax churn out revision after revision to this great land's history? It is not unnoticed elsewhere. My master has an interest in history. He heard Westcrown had changed and might be safer than the rest of Imperial Cheliax. So he sent me here to consult with his old friend - if he still lived - and learn more."
She pulls back her hood, revealing flaming hair and two deep, red-black horns trailing from her temples back into her hair. "My kind are often unwelcome here, but no more so than other races. And it may be that people confuse me with the rulers of this country. My master felt it was safe for me to come. And I am not in a position to refuse the request. I have found my master's friend, as directed." A graceful hand indicates Kelvyre, who is gazing somberly into his cup as if lost there.
Qareen shrugs one shoulder. "So I have no problem, gallant swordsmen. I have come here as commanded and have found the one I was commanded to find."
Diego plops himself into a chair, glancing for a moment in surprise at how comfortable the well-used furniture is. He stretches out his legs, and savors a long sip of the wine. He sighs in pleasure, saluting their host once more, who is still gazing somberly into his cup.
"Rest assured milady, the law is difficult for those of us who live here to fathom as well!" Diego chuckles.
"You can do the same thing for years with no trouble, until you cross someone who has a few more gold than you, then WHAM! You find yourself imprisoned for breaking a law that hasn't been enforced for a century or more, but is still on the books." The dandy shrugs. "Most convenient for those with the coin, assuredly."
Diego gestures towards Kyldare once more, and drains his cup.
"Well, it seems that your fortune is also our own! While certainly no scholar, I have a vested interest in history. Some history, at least. At least a desire to not repeat the mistakes of the past. It seems we'll be here for a little while at least. With Master Kyldare's kind permission, I'd like to hear any tales he might see fit to share as well. If that's alright?" He asks, glancing at both their host, and the visiting Qareen, not wanting to intrude, but obviously curious.
The old half-elf sighs. "Tales?" He broods into his cup for a long time, until his listeners are unsure he plans to speak, before he heaves another sigh. "I am an old man. Yet life is still sweet, and I have enjoyed and treasured it. I had thought to..."
He suddenly sets down his cup and pushes himself upright, settling more comfortably in his chair. "Very well, gentlemen, a tale I will thee tell. And you, my guest, may also benefit from this tale. Your master, as well." He looks intently and significantly at Qareen.
"Once upon a time, a great nation was torn by civil war. Do you know this nation? Of course not. It was torn by war, as I said, and this war was long and harsh because neither side could gain an advantage, both being equally matched. The leader of one side, with great wisdom, saw how the war was destroying the country and was determined to gain a final advantage over the other. So she made a bargain with the inhabitants of another plane - oh, shall we say, the elemental plane of water? This bargain allowed all the water spirits and elementals access to her country should she win the war with their unstinting aid. And win she did. The country became settled and lawful again, and prospered. Yet the elementals gained what some felt was undue influence within the country. Still, they honored the boundaries of that country and did not pass outside of it, through whatever means the Queen had negotiated in her agreement."
Godlas blows out a breath that puffs his sunken cheeks, runs his hands through his grizzled mane, and swallows before continuing, hair now awry and wild-looking. "The elementals managed to corrupt much of what they encountered in this country. The WaterKnights, originally founded to combat their influence, became little more than servants to these intruders. Neighboring countries, though uneasy, saw that the aquatic influences remained within the country, and grew easier in their minds that the influence of the Plane of Water would remain controlled."
The scholar's hands shake as he reaches for his cup and tosses off the contents. "Yet it was not so," he quavers, a stray rivulet of wine wending its way down his wrinkled chin, "For what the casual watchers failed to realize was that the incursion of the Plane of Water to this one had been long planned and plotted. It was merely the first step of campaign to annex this plane to the Plane of Water. And every spring and well in this plane became a place of... of thinness of the barriers between the planes. Indeed, great gates were built between the planes, unbeknownst to the denizens of this plane. And they were named with names that made their purpose clear, such was the arrogance of the devils... I mean, water elementals!"
He drops back into his chair, having risen half out of it in his wrath. "Yet the only ones who knew of this were those in league with the elementals, and a few weak scholars who only recently had their fears confirmed. Though some areas of, er, drier land seemed to be reclaimed from the damnable aquatic influences, those gains were small and most likely temporary." Godlas drops his face into his hands, then looks up at Qareen.
"Tell your master this tale, ifrit, if you would not see water overflow the land, drowning all in its path. But attacking the country openly will give the elementals leave to unleash their powers outside their bounds... do you comprehend?"
Qareen, who has been staring past the walls of the room, turns her fiery, alarmed gaze upon the old scholar. "Are... are you certain of this... fairy tale?"
He nods, then looks to the assembled Guards. "Forgive me. You ask for a tale and I give you an apocalypse. Yet, of course... it... it is just a story. Still, a story that the mere telling could bring death to the bard who tells it. Forgive me."
Theo nods listening to Qareen "I understand your caution milady, as you say folks around here are not very accepting of those that don't look like them. You may not have noticed, but I have some subtle differences from what is considered 'the norm' myself." The catman adds facetiously "Thankfully not everyone here is caught up on how how pointy your ears are, or how many whiskers you have. I do not think I would have made it off the streets if that were the case." The swashbuckler gestures to the others around the room "Everyone here has always treated me as one of them." He leans closer as if the next portion were meant for Qareen's ears only, but is still speaking loud enough that the others would hear "Though just between you and I milady, I am not sure this lot has noticed I am of a different race."
Theo's ears swivel to orient on Goldas as his story starts, and he turns his attention to the man. The pointed ears flatten against his head as the story goes on to a rather unpleasant conclusion, and what seems to be a warning. "I'm not sure I've understood this story completely milord, but your emphasis would indicate this is no simple story. How though would one stop this apocalypse? I'm confident in my sword, but it will do me little good trying to combat torrential flood, and crushing waves."
Goldas ponders. "Young man, have you ever seen an abandoned lawn? It looks fine for a while, if a little shaggy. Then tiny plants sprout up, plants that could be plucked by a child. Then one day, when nobody has plucked the tiny plants, suddenly the lawn is filled with noxious, stinging, tough, deep-rooted plants."
"If we have learned anything from our neighbors to the north, it should be that watching and waiting and guarding merely allow the enemy to gather forces. Do you think the paladins of Lastwall can fight a Worldwound-sized war on two fronts?"
He shakes his head. "I know of large threats - some of which should be obvious if you but peruse a map of Cheliax and its environs. But the smaller ones, the rumors and innuendo, the things nobody believes - those are most likely the small weeds just sprouting that needs to be crushed out. And being a proud Chelaxian, I would hate to see us ask for help from afar."
An aged hand waves at his moth-eaten book collection. "The denizens of Citadel Rivaud have perused my shelves and removed all the "heretical" works. I cannot help but wonder how many of the proscribed books contain knowledge of these weeds?"
Despite his obvious dedication to relaxing for the moment, once Goldas begins, the youthful Diego is all attention. He listens intently, not even removing his eyes from the speaker to take a sip from his cup. (If any of his companions notice that Diego's cup never seems to empty, they probably don't mention this in front of the others.)
"Oh thank you sir. I do love a good tale. Seems that the most entertaining ones are also those with the best morals. And unfortunately, also the most likely to draw unwanted attention." He muses. The meaning of the tale is obviously not wasted on the firebrand youth.
"Alas, I am more a man of action than a, 'gardener'. BUT I've always loved a good tale. I can't help but wonder what would happen if some child were to pluck a few weeds? Perhaps your tale of warning might become a story of adventure and victory, Eh?!?" He asks cheerfully, taking another pull of his mug while casting an eye over Goldas's bookshelves.