Lorick stirs as Evelyn sets his reward next to him but doesn't wake. It feels like he hasn't slept for the longest time and his body is making up for it.
Ricci looks at Juliet, eyes pleading. Just turn around, Nadezhda. Go home.
Of course, that wasn't going to happen.
Wishing she hadn't left the gold key of Abadar at home, Juliet pushes through the crowd, standing next to Svetalta. "Oi, Jowls! You got the look of someone don't have to sing and dance for a living. Why bother those that do?"
"And don't give me some fake sincerity 'bout how you aren't in a position to do anything. You're here, aren't you? Doing something?"
__________________
EVELYN
__________________
"Hello, dear. I thought I might be hearing from you." The fortune-teller rises up out of the cards, and peers around your hut. Sighing, she draws up a comfortable chair out of nowhere and plumps herself into it. "I'd offer you one, too, dear, but..." she gives a slight chuckle.
"You're wondering what comes next, am I right? Well, dear, there are some things I'm not allowed to tell you; and some things I'm not supposed to tell you. But I'm afraid I never was any good with rules. Let's start with one of those."
She gestures, and a roiling cloud of smoke appears between the two of you, condensing into an illusory view of a cellar, with an obviously terrified young woman hiding in it. The door above bursts open, and a troop of armoured figures, their black plate graven with fiendish images, hurries down the stairs and drags the silently-screaming girl away.
The smoke dissipates and vanishes. Zellara takes a sip from a steaming cup, which vanishes when she puts it down. "Poor dear. That was Trinia Sabor, who will be arrested later tonight, in about... 10 minutes or so. No, there's nothing you can do, dear. She's innocent, in case you were wondering, but the Queen needs justice now - can't have poisoners going around unpunished. Sets a bad example. And no, dear, I'm really not allowed to tell you who the real poisoner was. You wouldn't recognise the name, anyway." She shakes her head. "A sorry business all round."
__________________
JULIET
__________________
The priest-lawyer smiles. "Why, my dear, even assuming I were in the position of having to explain myself to someone so... impertinent I've not been introduced to, I am doing something. It just so happens that what I want to do, and what the law permits me to do, are perfectly aligned. I am closing down this wretched place - Master Ricci here is in default of his debts and is selling his interest in his... little venture to the church. I have no use for frivolous singers and my business here is concluded. So, if you will excuse me..."
He moves towards the door, apparently unconcerned that Juliet is blocking it.
Attacking, or hindering, a priest of Abadar is just as bad an idea now as it was when Svetalta was considering it.
There's something incongruous about a funeral on a bright Spring morning.
Last night's storm blew over, leaving shining cobbles and gleaming roof slates and pure, dazzling sunshine that streams in through the bright stained glass windows of the Cathedral of Pharasma; beams of sunlight pick out the dancing dust motes.
True to his word, Father Gellantara has alloted Sia the full Pharasmin rites: not for her a few hasty orisons and the paupers' grave. Wrapped in white linen, her body rests in front of the great altar as the priests slowly, reverently, pronounce the great prayers and anoint her with holy water and preserving balms.
To the Pharasmins, death is not an end but a beginning, and their music reflects that: not for them the mournful dirges or militaristic rhythms of other religions; instead, their plainsong chants reflect the grief of the living, but are overshot with high, soaring song, reflecting the ethereal hope of the soul set free.
At the front of the choir the novice, Sura, sings the soprano role, her face alight with devotion as she effortlessly hits the top notes, making the vast Cathedral ring with both lamentation and praise.
Afterward, four priests carry Sia's body to the fresh-dug grave and reverently lower her in as Father Gellantara says the final prayer, the words so familiar that they barely register: "...where O Death is thy sting...where, O grave, thy victory?..."
And then, a silence, for those who wish to say something to be able to speak.
--------------
26 Gozran, Ricci's
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Juliet stands in the priest's way, not budging. "Oi, I'm Juliet D'Artangen, and you?"
"You should know, your church is rather fond of me. I've even got one of those fancy gold keys you give out to heroes and such. Left it at home..."
"Anyways, Ricci's selling the place, huh?"
Juliet knew one thing about the Church of Abadar. They didn't make bad investments. "How much you owe, Master Ricci? If it is less than about two grand, I'll buy your Opera House. And I'll even throw in my fancy gold key, a memento for you to keep from that time you almost made a really bad decision."
Evelyn holds her hand to her chin, watching intently. "Why is it that you're showing me this?" she asks, bluntly.
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__________________
JULIET
__________________
The pudgy-faced priest sneers. "I neither know nor care who you are. And since you seem to think in the low thousands, I rather doubt anyone of note in my church gives the slightest thought to you. Let me assure that if it were a matter of a simple 2,000 I would have left this matter to a peon."
Ricci flushes scarlet, clearly unwilling to say anything in the presence of this man.
__________________
EVELYN
__________________
Zellara raises an eyebrow. "Dear, you called on me. I am, or was, a fortune-teller; I'm not sure what you were expecting from me, if not to show visions..."
Evelyn scowls, but then her face softens. She was more tired than anything right now.
"What I mean to say is why this vision specifically. I..." she chews on her thoughts momentarily "appreciate what you've done, helping us get to Lamm. I'm sure the others do too. However, I'm still curious about you, Zellara. You have to admit you've remained somewhat of an enigma."
Juliet's hand goes to Spite and she stares at the priest for a good minute, wordless, before she steps aside, and bowing low, doffs an imaginary hat. "M'Lord."
Once the priest passes, Juliet stands straight and follows behind him, whispering. "I care who you are, Lord Jowls. You'll know my name soon enough. In fact, I suspect you'll be cursing my name soon enough, Yer Eminence."
Her piece said, Juliet looks to Ricci. Poor sad embarrassed Ricci. "Geez, boss. What did you get into?"
__________________
EVELYN
__________________
"You have to admit you've remained somewhat of an enigma."
The fortune-teller raises a ghostly eyebrow. "Really, dear? I thought it was a characteristic of an enigma not to admit to anything."
Her image starts to dissolve back into mist, her voice growing fainter, until it is just an echo in Evelyn's head: I showed you that image for a reason, dear, so bear it in mind; but my reasons are my own...
__________________
JULIET
__________________
Ricci, it is fair to say, looks horribly embarrassed; he takes his hat from off his head and starts wringing it in his hands. His eyes don't meet Juliet's, or those of the other performers. "We've been closed every night for two weeks. Two weeks! I don't have the money to tide over that long - I missed too many payments, and the Church finally called it in... I had to tell them I've no idea when we'd be up and running again."
He looks miserable. "They offered to buy up my stake in this building - I'd no idea they were going to shut it down! You have to believe me..."
Svetalta looks ready to spit, and the others don't look any more sympathetic. "So that fat arse of a priest is telling us he doesn't owe us anything, and at the same time you're getting a payout?!"
Ricci splutters. "It's - it's not like that! Don't you understand? I'm ruined! I've barely enough to live on, and I'm going to have to crawl back to my family in Westcrown - I'll never be able to show my face here again!"
This approach, strangely enough, doesn't win him any sympathy. There's a certain amount of jeering.
Evelyn sits silently for a while before sighing to herself. "I don't really know what I expected..."
She puts the deck away and with a last rub of her weary eyes she finally turns in for the night.
Evelyn ends up sleeping until noon the next day. Eventually she makes her way out of bed and into town. She heads to the market to get some shopping done. First stop is Alinys' place. She's putting in a small order for some weapons. Afterwards she hits up the rest of the marketplace to stock up on supplies.
1x Bastard Sword
1x Armored Coat
2x Longsword
2x Leather Armor
1x Scroll of Shield
1x Scroll of Obscuring Mist
3x Scroll of Keep Watch
1x 200gp Onyx Gem
1x Healer's Kit
[ooc]Are we going to use the books price? If not, let me know what everything rings up to.
After all that is taking care of Evelyn sets her mind to something that had been bothering her for a long while. Her living situation was inadequate and now that she had money, it was time to see to that. She starts searching for an apartment or home. She didn't care which. What was more important was that it was as close as possible to her current home in the Gray district. That's where she was comfortable and she did not wish to stray far. Beyond that, she wanted somewhere large and isolated, preferably multi-leveled if she could have it.
Lorick stands up uncertainly.
I knew her for as long as I can remember. We.... we were supposed to protect each other
And then, finally, like a dam bursting, Lorick breaks down sobbing.
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Evelyn had no real experience in these sorts of situations. In fact, until now she was intentionally apathetic when exposed to raw displays of emotion. Still, Lorick was her friend and she wanted to be there for him. She sets a comforting hand on the mans shoulder and pushers herself to say something...anything.
"I-" she stutters "I'm sorry Lorick. Let everything out, I'm here. When you're ready, show her a strong face one more time. Show her...show her the man she knew you could be so that she can rest peacefully."
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Juliet lets herself quietly into the church, late, but still there. Slipping up beside Lorick, she slips her arm over his shoulders, and gives Evelyn a sad nod. "She's watching you, for sure. Make her proud."
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The week since Lamm's death has been full of incident, although not for you; you have managed to snatch a brief respite from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
Others across the city are not so lucky; and the artist Trinia Sabor has been perhaps the least fortunate of all. Captured the same night as Lamm was taken down, she was dragged off to the palace where - after only a little encouragement - she tearfully confessed everything and was sentenced to public execution.
All of you have invited by Kroft to attend, which means you get to stand in relative comfort, not pressed in by the crowds. It also means that - like it or not - you get a good view of what is coming.
It seems that anyone who is anyone is there, either because they want to see the death of the assassin who caused all this anarchy; or they want to be seen to be loyal to the Queen; or because a public execution is a good day's entertainment. Whatever their reasons, the toast of Korvosa is in attendance in garish gowns, fine capes, and enough jewels to blind the
common citizen. The overall feel of the event is that of a grand ball or party, not an assassin’s public execution.
Queen Ileosa emerges amid a great flourish and pomp as heralds announce her arrival with a fanfare of music and drums. She has fully accepted the mantle of sole monarch now, and carries herself with poise, style, and grace. She wears a green and white silk dress worth thousands of gold coins and is attended by a small army of striking guards. Ileosa takes her seat in a high throne-like chair at one end of the public courtyard, while a chopping-block stands ominously at the other. The executioner is a towering, muscular man wearing an executioner’s hood and idly holding an immense axe.
As an ominous drum beating begins, the gawkers fall silent. The drum sets the pace for Trinia’s procession to the executioner’s block. As they reach the block, a guard removes Trinia’s shackles and the hood, revealing a very frightened woman who bravely holds back her tears. Trinia is led up to stand before the chopping-block, her arms bound behind her back by a leather cord as Queen Ileosa addresses the crowd. The Queen's voice carries effortlessly.
"Fellow Korvosans! You have suffered greatly these past few weeks. Homes have burned, family members have died, and fortunes have been lost. I feel your suffering, for not only have I lost a beloved husband, but with each act of anarchy that followed, my heart bled more. This has been a trying time for us, yet the torment is at an end. Before you is the source of your anguish and pain. Do not be deceived by this murderer’s timid nature: she is a black-hearted assassin. I offer you her death as a salve against the hatred and hurt you have suffered."
“And so, without further delay, let us usher in this new dawn with justice! OFF WITH HER HEAD!”
The black-hooded executioner takes hold of Trinia, pushing her down to kneel in front of the chopping-block...
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...before suddenly crying out in pain as a hurled dagger embeds itself in the back of his hand. As the executioner’s grip on Trinia falters, a cry echoes through the crowded courtyard: “By the gods! It’s Blackjack!”
Beside you, Kroft (who has taken the whole Trinia Sabor affair very badly) stiffens and lets out a hiss of disbelief. But the cry appears to be accurate: a mere instant later, a dark menacing figure dressed in a hooded cloak and black mask springs up to Trinia’s side. Using a dagger, he cuts the bonds on Trinia’s wrists and then throws the same dagger down to pin the executioner’s left foot to the wood platform, before turning to address the shocked crowd.
“Yes indeed, my queen! Let us usher in justice, but let that be justice for Korvosa, not this shambles you call a monarchy! Long live Korvosa! Down with the queen!”
The crowd erupts into action: there are shouts, clamours for reform, clamours for Blackjack to release the assassin, some calls to execute everyone, some demanding the Queen's abdication.
Queen Ileosa herself stands in stunned silence for a few moments, before fleeing back into Castle Korvosa. Kroft looks at you, looks at the platform, before swallowing hard and doing her duty, hurrying along with the Queen to prevent harm from coming to her. As she hurries off, the Field-marshal calls over her shoulder "I trust you not to mess this up!" The remaining guards in the courtyard move to apprehend Blackjack, but the gathered nobles, thirsty for blood, make it difficult to move.
At the same time, the executioner recovers from his wounds and lifts his axe over Blackjack, who seems to have momentarily forgotten the man in his apparent delight at having forced the queen to flee...
Tyenar spends most of the time before the execution completely silent: he had no luck in finding Ander or Timmor, and he wasn't very convinced that Trinia Sabor had anything to do with the king's death. Well, anything beside being the scapegoat, that is.
The Sylph springs up when Blackjack appears: that was a more public appearance than the sylph had expected from his previous MO, but who cares, it was Blackjack!
With a flick of his wrist, Tyenar pulls out his notebook and starts scribbling, apparently muttering to himself.
|
Having found that her limited trust of the crown has been greatly diminished in the past few days, and that Tivera was safe with Petrivar, Xenia decides to see what she can do to assist.
Raising her hand, and hoping that the shouts of the crowd will diminish the words that she is about to speak, Xenia calls on her magic to create a blinding spray of dust, in the hope of further disabling the executioner.
Cast Glitterdust - DC16 <-- hitting the executioner and anyone else close by, but missing Blackjack and Trinia.
Juliet's mouth drops as Xenia sends an obviously magic spray of dust at the executioner. "What're-"
It didn't matter. Juliet was probably going to have to leave town anyways when Kroft read whatever was in the file Lamm had on her.
Juliet didn't care about the kid. Trinia or whatever. The kid was an assassin, at least according to the crown. But Blackjack? Blackjack was a damn institution. Would be a shame to see some state-sponsored serial killer do a real bonified hero in.
Flipping her cloakhood up and crouching, with her other hand Juliet nimbly drew her dagger from her boot and tossed it at the executioner, before doing her best to fade into the commotion...
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As the scene plays out the gears in Evelyn's head start to turn. If the spirit was right then this girl was innocent and it would probably be in bad taste to let her die. Blackjack had interjected conveniently, but he was apparently a few rolls short of a basket. She had to act quickly and decisively, yet Krofts warning rang through her head. Was she really willing to put herself in this sort of position? She-
Suddenly her companions are bursting into action - distracting the executioner. Evelyn stands, floored, mouth agape. All she can muster is the thought that, sometimes, it pays to have foolish friends.
Tyenar's warning reaches Blackjack's ears at about the same time as Juliet's dagger thunks into the executioner's other foot, making him scream and drop the axe completely. Xenia's magic, blinding dust only adds to his confusion.
Taking advantage of the opportunity provided, Blackjack ducks neatly out of the man's way, dragging Trinia with him. He clambers up a hanging banner to a nearby wall, hauling Trinia up behind him. As the two reach the wall, he swiftly drinks a potion and bows to the crowd while backlit by the setting sun. His rapier flashes in salute to you in particular, acknowledging your assistance.
Then both he and Trinia leap from the wall to make their escape into the city.
Chaos and confusion reign in the crowd; but with the spectacle over, and a rush of guards descending from all directions, the more sensible ones decide to head for home.
Lorick meanwhile looks around for the more belligerent of the spectators and, if he spots any possible flashpoint, strides over to the point of conflict and tries to break it up.
Oi. Knock it the Hell off. Or I'll bash your bloody heads in and drag you into a cell myself, save the Guards the trouble.
"Perhaps we should also take our leave, lest we are mistaken malcontents?"
"Good idea, kid."
Cloakhood still flipped up, Juliet looks at the ground and walks towards the gate.
I have to get a less conspicuous cloak!
Evelyn will follow after.
Tyenar looks in awe as Blackjack disappears, only registering a few moments after that the panic that was spreading in the crowd. He pulls up his cloak and follows after the others...
...even if following right after Juliet and her flashy cloak doesn't prove to be the best course of actions.
Despite Juliet's best efforts to be conspicuous, the general chaos of the scene, together with the crowds, mean that you are easily able to slip away.
The weeks following the botched execution and escape sees a return, although a sporadic one, to the unrest that followed the news of the King's death.
It is fair to say that Queen Ileosa, whatever her good qualities, does not have the common touch. Graffiti proclaiming Death to the Whore Queen is daubed on walls throughout the rougher areas of town, and shops in the nicer areas are periodically vandalised if they are thought to be offering wares or services that are sympathetic to the royal cause.
More worryingly, the Seneschal of Korvosa, Neolandus Kalepopolis, one of the key roles in the politics of the city (and the only person with legal power to put the Queen's wishes in check) has still not reappeared.
Queen Ileosa proclaims a 5,000 gp bounty on each of Blackjack, Trinia Sabor - and the Seneschal, asserting that he is by his absence proving his guilt. Some of the nobility protest this, claiming that nobody can be condemned without trial. Those who pay attention to such matters will note that the Queen's actions have united two warring factions against her: the reactionary nobles, led by House Carowyn, whose concern is to jealously guard the privileges of nobility (like not being condemned without trial); and the would-be reformers, led by Vencarlo Orisini, who consider that the true duty of nobility is to try and better the lot of the commoners and generally act with justice.
The reactionaries and reformers loathe one another, and the old King had the skill to play them off against each other, but both are united in opposing the Queen's sentence against the Seneschal without trial. Grudgingly, Ileosa drops the reward against him.
Of course, most of this politicking passes the common people by, concerned as they are with simply getting through this tumultuous time. All they can do is hope that tomorrow will be a little better than today...
The letter is slipped under Juliet's door before she's fully awake, delivered by a courier eager to return and get their pay for services. It simply reads:
My dear,
I hope this note finds you in good health in these dangerous times. In light of the recent unrest, I feel that I could provide some tips on self-defense to adventurers such as you and your companions, and would be most gratified to meet with you for these lessons, offered gratis, at Orisini Academy, 16 Hillcrest Street.
I eagerly await your arrival.
Vencarlo Orisini
Turning and yawning, Juliet stretches and looks across her studio apartment, spying the note on the floor. Hopping out of bed, the singer lifts the note, mouthing the words as she reads, a smile slowly spreading across her face.
Hot damn!
Folding Orisini's invitation, Juliet stuffs it into her cloak's pocket and sets about getting dressed. It was earlier than she'd like, but she had the others to get.
Lessons from Orisini! HOT DAMN!
Afternoon
Orisini Academy is located at 16 Hillcrest Street, which is near the center of Old Korvosa. Signs of the more recent unrest are everywhere: Old Korvosa is poorly policed at best (despite Kroft's efforts) and the graffiti that have elsewhere been washed away still remain on the walls here, proclaiming sentiments as violent as they are unoriginal.
Most shops are open, although their windows are boarded up or otherwise reinforced. A simmering sentiment of resentment hangs in the air, generally unfocused but nonetheless clearly there; just waiting the right moment - or person - to focus and direct it.
A sign hanging from the front door reads “Classes Cancelled Today.”
Guessing that don't apply to us? Lorick says quietly, more of a statement than a question.
Juliet draws the invitation from her pocket and hands it to Lorick. Shrugging, she turns the doorknob, her other hand on Spite's basket hilt. "Ima want that back. "
"Why is giving you free lessons, again?" asks Evelyn as they wait.
"I'm surprised he has time to give lessons given the circumstances, more than anything else." Tyenar comments, without raising his nose from his notebook.
Why is he giving you free lessons, again?
Juliet frowns. In truth, the more she'd reread the note, walking with it in her hand to fetch the others, the more that question had been bouncing around her head as well. Us. The one thing she did know, was the "us" meant it wasn't what Juliet had at first hoped.
"Us. He's giving us free lessons. And we need it. I've seen you swing that longsword, kid."
"As for why, who knows. Who cares? Its Vencarlo Orisini! That guy's boss!"
Lorick fixes Juliet with a look Only here 'cause it seems important to you Princess. I got enough training of my own to deal with.
"I wouldn't mind some lessons." Tyenar looks up from his notebook to glance at the others. "Better be prepared so things won't end up like..." the sylph bites his lip, stopping mid sentence and scribbling back his notes "I-I mean, with how the wind's blowing recently, it's better to be prepared."
If I had been actually useful that day instead of flailing around, maybe Ander and Timmor wouldn't have...
The Sylph thoughts trail off, as he stares at the door of Osirini Academy.
A few moments after Juliet's call, the door opens and Orisini beckons you in, quietly. The silver-haired swordsman looks unusually solemn. "My thanks for replying so swiftly to my somewhat cryptic note."
Leading you down the hall, past the gym and training hall, he opens the door to his study and ushers you in. The windows are tightly shuttered and curtained, and the room is lit only by a candle. The air has a conspiratorial feel, although that might just be the stuffiness and dust: Orisini isn't much of a scholar and the books clearly don't get read very often.
"You'll forgive me I hope when I say that the note was a ruse: while I am happy to provide lessons, it was not my main intent. I have an important task that requires people I can trust. I hope that is you. Would you come in, my dear?"
This last is a call out into the corridor; the door quietly opens and a familiar figure sidles in.
It's Trinia Sabor, the artist turned assassin(?) turned fugitive.
Wearing simple traveling clothes, she holds a wide-brimmed rider’s hat and a wig of long red curls. Trinia appears nervous and excited, and gives you a weak smile.
Orisini bids you to sit, but remains standing as he speaks. “You were all at the queen’s debacle, so I don’t doubt you recognize this charming young woman. I had only just reached my home the night of Her Majesty’s morbid gala when that troublemaker Blackjack and this startled woman arrived at my doorstep. The so-called “people’s hero” and I have had some dealings in the past, but it’s been some years since I’ve seen the scoundrel." He scowls, and then smiles slightly. "He was quick with his words and soon swooped off, doubtlessly to right some other festering wrong, but not before entrusting Miss Sabor to my protection and care. Although I don’t know Blackjack’s motives or politics, I trust his judgment and have seen much right done by his blade. He says Miss Sabor is innocent of the crime she’s been accused of, and I’m more disposed to trust a hero of the city than the tantrums of some bloody-minded child playing at queen."
He looks at you. “The matter is simple: Korvosa is no longer safe for Miss Sabor. I’ve arranged for friends in Harse — a couple of well-respected ranchers — to take in our beautiful renegade until this whole ‘assassination’ foolishness blows over. It’s the first leg of the journey where we find our problem, though. Ever since the queen’s put a price on her head, mercenaries, soldiers, and the Guard have been searching for the young lady tirelessly. They’ve stopped by here three times so far, and each time I’ve only just barely been able to turn them away without inviting a search."
"My most reliable contacts have gone to ground in light of the recent uprisings, and Her Highness’s bounty for Trinia’s capture makes the use of new agents inadvisable. Thus, after some time to let her trail cool, I turned to you resourceful lot."
He flashes a grin, white teeth gleaming. "Care to escort a lady home?”
Lorick's eyebrows raise. Why would we even want to get mixed up in this business? We'd be next on the chopping block.
"I'll help" offers Evelyn from the rear of the group.
Trinia looks across at Evelyn, giving the girl a quick, grateful smile; while Orisini raises an eyebrow at Lorick's remarks. "For much the same reason as you took down Gaedren Lamm, I would imagine: if you don't do something about that injustice, then who will?"
He sighs. "You remind me of Grau Soldado, and the arguments we used to have. But no matter. Perhaps your companions see things otherwise."
He looks quizzically at Juliet, Tyenar and Xenia, awaiting their response.
|
|
Xenia looks at Trinia, and then to the tattoos on her arms, before glancing over at Lorick and Evelyn:
Like you, I am an artist. It is clear that we are among those who would be the first to feel the wrath of an autocrat. Artists speak with their art and rarely are beholden to the limitations of one such as the insane new queen. If the queen finds you, you will be killed, that is apparent. But, it will not end there. Poets, singers, dancers, tattoo artists, we will all be endangered for causing the public to rise against her improper rule.
Xenia licks her lips:
I will assist you. If we can stop the first murder, perhaps we can keep the murder from gaining the publicity she wants and make her appear incompetent. This will hopefully give the others among us the will to fight back and make those performances and paintings that show the truth of the queens evil.
"Look how well that turned out."
Tyenar sighs when Osirini mentions Lamm. "I had my reasons to take down Lamm, and even with him dead I failed to do what I had to" he looks up to Trinia "Let's be clear, I don't think you assassinated the king. I haven't heard of a sound reason why you would kill him, and based and his history, being saved by Blackjack cements my idea that you're just a scapegoat. However" the Sylph stares at his feet, wincing at the memory "last time I got it in my head to do what was the 'right thing', innocent people got killed. I'm not sure I could even help you if I wanted to..."
Juliet had it in her mind to tell Orisini to bugger off. Treason? She'd just come for the fencing lessons. No way, no how, was she gonna go against the Queen, whether or not this artist was guilty. Besides, Juliet knew the artist type; the broad probably put herself in a position to get taken advantage of, at the very least. Lorick had the right idea.
Then the kid had to speak up. Volunteer, breezily, like it was nothing in the world.
Gods. Damnnnnn. It.
"Yeah, alright, where Evelyn goes, I go. Just hopefully, you know, not right under the headsman's axe, kid."
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Lorick presses the fingers of one hand against his temple like he's trying to prevent a headache from coming on.
He looked at the others. He might not have achieved what he had wanted to at Eel's End but he had kept the people in the room safe. That wasn't nothing. Especially considering how fragile the lot of them were.
It's like it's Lamms all the way up he says almost to himself. He shrugs. Alright. I'll keep these three beauties from getting scarred up. He glances at Tyenar Four if Notebook goes along
"I want to see how the good samaritan thing feels." she replies with a shrug. "Besides, we're just taking her out of town. It can't be that hard, right?"
Trinia looks back at Tyenar, calmly holding his gaze. Her voice, when she speaks, is soft, at least as quiet as the sylph's. "You've no reason to help me, or to trust me; but I just want to say, if our positions were reversed, I would help you."
Orisini looks proudly at her, before transferring his gaze to Juliet - perhaps reading her expression. "I meant it about the fencing lessons. If you are interested, we can take them up once this little escapade is concluded, perhaps?"
It's like it's Lamms all the way up he says almost to himself.
Orisini has sharp hearing. His look directed at the strongman is even sharper. "Tell me in truth, did Lamm ever ask for help, or give it, freely? Of all I heard of him, that would be the most far-fetched story."
The silver-haired swordsman shakes his head. "Be cautious, yes. Be careful in whom you place your trust, yes. But do not assume, young one, that everyone is like Lamm - do not think the worst of everyone. Or you will become another Lamm, eventually: doing nothing but for your own advantage."
"Uh, yeah!?! Of course I'm interested! Not every day you get the chance to learn from a master! I mean, I'm pretty damn good to be honest with you, but that doesn't mean there's no room for improvement!"
Deal. Sealed. Let's get that whelp to Harse.
"So, what, we taking the lady to her home? Like, her home here in town, or her new home, in Harse? Also, where is Harse? Also, how do we get there?"