Wilhelm spares a glance towards the assistant and nods his agreement. He flushes pink as Mlle. Montiff suggests that Lanya assist in the fitting.
I can hardly ask a fifteen year old child to stand around while I'm nearly naked. And I can hardly ask an old woman to try and fit me herself. If nothing else, maybe I can have some fun with this. Resolved to the situation, and pointedly ignoring Mlle. Montiff's teasing, Wilhelm makes a show of nodding reluctantly. "If this is how it must be, so be it. I feel it should be noted that the dress was intended to be as a joke despite whatever Sanita may have said. In any case, let's be about our fittings."
Taking Lanya's hand, he allows himself to be led into the wagon as he replies, "Just the one, actually, and afraid isn't precisely the right word." Once the door is closed behind them, Wilhelm begins stripping out of his cloths. He flexes as he goes, raising an eyebrow and grinning rakishly whenever he manages to catch Lanya's eye. He stops either when he's in his smallclothes or when he's ordered to stop, whichever comes first.
Ok, I think we have a bit of a cluster in dialogue that we need to fix.
You also notice, on the streets, a new symbol.
Sometimes hastily and crudely painted in black and white, but sometimes a magical sigil full of vibrant color.
The Rose Symbol
Rowan smiles at Shimmerscale's announcement. "Three youngin's coming along. That's great news." He nods at Fharn's suggestion and moves inside to find a table.
As the issue of the treaty comes up again. "I'm in agreement with a treaty of some sort though we'll have to get everyone together to work out the details. Would the tribe consider annexing yourselves to us as one nation though? That may have the potential for the best course of action for both our nations."
Frowning down at the reports he's reading, Wilhelm sighs and stands, joints cracking in stiffness. Sitting far too long, where is Fhârn? I thought we were to run over these numbers so we can advice Becky how much more we'll need in terms of supplies. Glancing around Oleg's, and failing to find the wayward arcanist, Wilhelm wanders out into the courtyard for a breath of fresh air and hoping to find his treasurer.
Seeing his quarry, Wilhelm quickens his pace towards the man, surprised by the crowds. "There you are, Fhârn, we need to-" Wilhelm cuts off as he sees his cousin standing in the middle of a growing group of his friends. "Ah, Felix... errr -rather- Shimmerscales, I'm surprised to see you." Wilhelm struggles for a moment to find better words before he continues, "I mean to say, I'm glad you're here. It's good to see you. How fare you and the Sootscales?"
Lanya grins as Wilhelm mentions him not being afraid of one particular woman.
"Perhaps not. Perhaps it is unwise for you to not be afraid. Let me know which one it is when you see me in my new dress, alright Wilhelm?"
Lanya helps Wilhelm undress and puts his clothes onto a neatly stacked pile, shaking her head smiling as Wilhelm tries to impress her with his muscles.
"I'm sure, mademoiselle Montiff and I could watch this all day long, but we wouldn't get anything done now are we? Perhaps a little late night show is better suited for this display? Wouldn't you agree Mademoiselle Montiff?"
As Lanya helps Mlle. Montiff take Wilhelm's measurement, she can't help but let her fingers slip over his naked back, unseen by the old woman's eyes. Giving Wilhelm all the more difficulty to keep his composure. Whenever she makes eye contact with him, she grins wickedly and winks at him.
This game is mine Wilhelm, you're just a rookie. I am a master in these games and you'll know it.
When they're done for the day, Lanya picks up her dress and thanks Mlle. Montiff again.
"Thank you so much for the dress, mademoiselle Montiff. I'll need to find a good time to show it off for the first time." As Wilhelm andLanya leave the wagon, he can see a neatly folded black dress bright yellow engravings and lines on it.
"I'll wear this soon enough Wilhelm, no need to stare and break your pretty little head about it."
Dareon throws himself into his work, first thing when he and the others are back at Oleg's. People are moving to the area by the hundreds, and he wants to make sure that he keeps up with the other constructions, and doesn't lose touch with the people around him. Beyond that, he'd grown tired of sleeping night after night in one of Oleg's inn-rooms.
One night, about a week and a half from their return to Oleg's, Dareon met an architect on a tour around the budding settlement. He commissioned the man, along with some laborers that he'd met recently as well, to begin construction for him on a home, school, laboratory. The first thing to be erected, of course, were the walls. Dareon ordered them to leave extra space within the walls, for upgrades to the house later on. After that, though, Dareon grew tired of watching his house rise.
Instead of exploring the city, he began to leave it, spending hours at a time, by himself out in the wilderness. He communed with it, letting it whisper to him, letting it teach him secrets. He admired it, watching a megaloceros clash with another over a mate, their twelve-foot horns smashing into one another with great force.
He weaved paths through the forest, following animal tracks or creating his own. Mostly, he avoided animals, but more than once he had to scare off a wolf with a display of pyrotechnics or smashing them into a tree with force punch. And eventually, he would return to civilization - he never spent the night in the wilderness. After a few weeks, his home had reached a level of completion that he could spend the night there, and when the bookshelves in his libraries were complete, he began to accumulate books. Hundreds of them he slowly gathered and placed on the bookshelves, alphabetically by subject matter, color-coded by subject matter, carefully and lovingly.
Evelynn looks around, making sure nobody is in immediate earshot, and then steps up closer, tilting her head so her hair hides her lips from anyone not directly in front of her. "The Or'Fana have backed one of the other charter holders. This is known of course. However, both the Malvanna and Kalnath are backers of this charter, along with others. Until now, the Or'Fana have not interfered with this charter due to the marriage of my mother and father. However, that marriage is now.. no longer an impediment. That is one reason my father asked me to come down and keep an eye on his investment. My mother asked me to come down and make sure Sanita's death is painful. You can imagine what dinners are like at my home. Or you could ask Fharn, if you are having issues imagining. The Or'Fana's are rather fond of assassins. There's no official assassins guild in your lands yet, but I'm sure a field office will be opening soon, if they aren't already scouting locations. In the meantime, you should look out for any new faces trying to get close to those who are making decisions, especially Wilhelm, or anyone especially close to him. You might want to keep antitoxins and healing potions around for quick use."
Wyssal goes asking who is building the school, and finally finds Dareon Lebeda one day when he is returning from the wilderness.
The small 3' halfling approaches him smiling. Her clothes are simple but clean, like an artisans, and she sports a rose brooch on her bosom.
"Sir Lebeda? Can I have a word with you? My name is Wyssal Sloboda, and want to talk to you about the school. Why are you building it? Who is going to attend? What are yours plans about it, if I can know. "
Dareon smiles charmingly at the little halfling woman, branches crackling under his feet as he emerges from the forests of the Narlmarches. "Well, first to understanding is that it's more than a school - it's to be my home as well. Mostly why I'm building it is so that I'm never more than a few moments away from learning."
He motions for the woman to walk with him as he directs himself towards the building in question. "I am a fairly staunch supporter of Desna, the goddess of trails and fortune, and so I want to be able to support homeless travelers out of my own pocket. I also have been granted the responsibility of being in charge of this budding settlement's higher learning, and so I wanted my home to be a reflection of that. I want people to be able to come to my dwelling and take classes on things that interest them. I wanted access to libraries while at home."
"Why the curiosity?"
Rowan orders a fine meal for everyone attending. Later... he made a mental note I will have to remember to bring back a nice buck or boar to refill Oleg's larder.
Once Shimmerscale and the others seat themselves around the table, Rowan asks the golden kobold. "What type of treaty are you looking to forge?"
"First I wanted to thank you, in the behalf of the people, including me, for spending your money in such a good endeavor. I am also interested in the well being of the inhabitants of this lands. I am also looking to create a printing press, and want people to be able to read, so my work is useful to them. I was interested in helping you build the school, but I was thinking in an elementary school, not a higher one. Reading and writing, some addition, those kinds of things."
Gozran 29th
Roan's kept a quiet vigil for the most part, stalking about the parapets of Oleg's little walls, giving occasional advice to Dante on matters military if asked, but otherwise he simply waits, and observes. During this, he can't help but keep noticing a name. Beladon The discrepancy gnaws at him, having been given the name Medvyed, eventually, he decides to act. Waiting until the dog-watches of the night, and ensuring that he isn't followed, Roan quietly creeps up to, and into Sanita's room.
Roan approaches the room and enters with hardly the faintest whisper of a sound, and shuts the door behind him. Despite his rather impressive feat of stealth, Roan simply greets Sanita in a low tone, sounding as though he almost expects an immediate response. "Sanita, I have need of your assistance."
Sanita is crouched on her bed when Roan enters. A string leads from the door to the bed and is attached to the sheets. Opening the door pulled them off Sanita, waking her up. She is nude, but one hand has a flask of alchemist fire in it, the other a rapier.
She smiles sweetly at Roan. "Oh, Roan, I didn't know you were an admirer. You shouldn't sneak into a lady's bedroom without letting her know your intentions, you never know, she might be entertaining someone..." She says with a provocative smile.
Similar wires run from the window to the sheets, and there are wires tied to nails driven into the ceiling, with glass spheres hanging from the wires. Any attempt to cut through the ceiling would surely cause the glass bulbs to drop and shatter.
Sanita stands up, tossing the bottle of alchemists fire lightly in one hand. "So, did you come to rape me, or murder me? Just curious you realize..." She asks, a dimpled smile on her face as she readies an action to toss the flask if Roan so much as twitches.
Ignoring Sanita's comments, Roan looks about at all the wires and bulbs with a dry look, Roan comments, "Must be a pain to set all this up every night." Then, fixing Sanita with a stare, Roan repeats, "I've come to ask your assistance, Spymaster, but I'm afraid I don't have any way to contact you discretely beyond this arranged currently. Firstly a question, why is it that Lanya Medvyed sometimes go by the name Beladon? And secondly, what are your thoughts on her?"
"Aww, does that mean you didn't come here to try to rape me? Or kill me?" She says, sounding disappointed. "That means I can't kill you..." She says with obvious disappointment, her face making a small moue of frustration. Then she brightens, like a small child given a lollipop. "Oh, but you're in my rooms fully armed and armored... at night.. and you snuck in... I coooouuuullllldddd just kill you and tell people I thought you were going to rape me... Even Wilhelm couldn't argue that was over the top..." She looks thoughtfully at Roan...
Then she continues in the same thoughtful tone, as if still considering if she should just attack or not, and talking about other things while she decides. "Oh, it's a pain to set up the first time. After that, you just pull the wires apart and hide the glass bulbs. Of course, now I'll need to do something else, as you've seen it." That brings on an annoyed face. "Unfortunately, there's no bars for the doors. I'm assuming you used magic to make the door open. And Oleg insists on oiling the hinges so they don't squeak." She rubs her chin with the bottom of the flask of alchemists fire as she thinks.
Finally, she shrugs. "As to Lanya, she has reasons for not claiming titles she could, if she were of a mind to. That's actually a fairly common occurance. I suspect she'll be a good counterbalance to Wilhelm being in charge. Ameliorate his tendencies as a Paladin to be stupidly orderly and lawful to the point of killing the goose to save the gander."
Roan, initially ignores the further threats once more, "So she is noble not of birth, but of some sort of climb. Why can't anything not look suspicious about her? In this case, do you know much of her past? Where she came from? If she's to be Wilhelm's bride, we must make sure she is of an unassailable character, too much of what she is on the surface could be used against us with but the slightest evidence of ill intent from her." Then, speaking off handedly, Roan comments in a somewhat cocky voice. "But do you honestly believe that you have the trust of your peers so assuredly that they won't even seek to question you if a body appears in your room? Surely in a company rife with magic like this, I am not the only one who has ways to force the truth from you?" A small smirk playing on his lips, the mercenary adds, "Come now, you're smarter than that, surely, if you had such trust I wouldn't have to be intervening for you."
Sanita smiles. "My dear boy, don't you know, I never lie. I make a point of not lying. I may not always tell the entire truth, but every single one of my companions knows I've not lied to them. It's much easier to just tell the truth and remember what bits of the truth not to tell than it is to remember a bunch of lies." She laughs, her head tilting amusedly. "Did you know it was Roan when the door opened? No, I didn't. Did you know before you killed him? Yes, I did. Why did you kill him? When he came into my room unannounced, I thought he was there to kill me after the way he offered in council to be my killer if I went beyond what Wilhelm wanted. There was also the possibility he was going to rape me, but I gave the murder idea more credence. I killed him so he wouldn't kill me." She changes her voice from questioner to answerer, doing a decent impression of Dante's questioning voice. "All truth. And if I kill you, it'll be because I think you want to kill me and take over my job. You're not cut out for it though, not yet anyways. Your mind still thinks in straight lines like a sword, rather than like a briar patch in coils and switchbacks and sharp thorns."
An arrogant sneer crosses the man's face, "And what of it? Have your 'switchbacks and sharp thorns' given you the room to operate freely? No, say what you will of how you do not lie, but the distrust and anger held against you is still clear. Perhaps your thorns will give you a clear understanding and observational skills? Clearly not, otherwise you'd realize I never threatened your life, and even if I did, I've certainly not had the time to ensure you stepped out of line." Raising a finger as though a thought occurred to him, the sarcasm continues. "Oh, but perhaps you simply have gained the cunning to see my meaning through lies and deceit! But alas, you've also failed there, otherwise you'd perhaps have considered that my actions were to give confidence to Wilhelm and Anastacia that you would be held in check and not hound you relentlessly, and get in your way? Perhaps my mind is not as twisted as yours, but I'd rather be the blade than your self-defeating ouroboros, doomed to consume yourself."
Sanita grins. "You see, you don't get it. There is truth, and there is reality. The two are not the same." She grins wickedly. "So, what you're saying is, you really just wanted to be involved in the spy fun, and went about it in the worst possible way. The way that would ensure I had detailed people to watch you and keep you from interfering..." She taps her chin with the bottle again. "Hmm, if you want a job, I might be able to find some work for you. But none of this setting up your own network to watch me. All that does is draw attention to me and my people. Remember when I say I speak the truth..." She holds Roan's eyes cold and level, all humor vanishing from her face. "If you try to play at games and get some of my people killed, I will absolutely kill you if it's the last thing I ever do. Wilhelm and his blood relation and paladin morals be damned. When I ask people to put their lives on the line for me, I don't do it lightly, and I won't allow someone who wants to gain some power and influence put them in danger for his own ambitions. I'm not taking this job because I want the power. If I wanted power, I could have it tomorrow. If I wanted money, I could have it tomorrow. I'm doing this because I happen to think it's a good idea, and because those I care about asked me to make sure this kingdom is a success. For it to be a success, it doesn't need Roan. It doesn't need me. It doesn't even need Wilhelm. Or Lanya, or Anastacia, or Dante. Or any other single individual." Her eyes bore into Roans. "Remember that my first concern is this country, not an individual. If you can't live with that, I suggest you get out now, while you still have your skin. If you want to make this charter work, and you want your brother on the throne, then get behind it and push as hard as you can, or get the hell out of here. I've hurt people I like to try them by fire. I've gotten a good man killed because he wasn't strong enough to be king, although that wasn't my intention at the time. I've hit every weak spot I could find in this group with a hammer, and then poured salt in the wound, to try to break them. To forge them in a crucible. I've permanently alienated some of them in the hopes that the final smelting would be stronger than the original ingredients. I'm not going to let you undo that. If you want to be involved, you're going to get hammered as hard as everyone else did, and if you survive, you'll be a honed blade to defend the country. Or perhaps a poisoned dirk in the right spot. Or you'll be shattered slag that's thrown away." She tilts her head, and the wicked grin comes back. "So, you want a job, or you want a face full of acid?" She asks sweetly.
Roan listens to the speech with passive stoicism, then replies. "Oh, an ultimatum? Truly an example of truth and reality not meshing if I ever saw one. But before I give my answer, a rebuttal. I'm still fascinated by how you act so thoroughly on impulse and whim, and yet call it cunning, as you fail to understand my intent yet again. I've little interest in your little spy ring, I offered to be the one to hold your leash so that it wasn't held by a paladin or a priestess who despises you. But that doesn't mean I'll ignore holding it entirely either. When your rogue elements get out of your hands, I'll be there to clean house for you. As such, there's quite simply no way that I can simply work for you and allow myself to merely have what information I'm given. How can I hold your leash, if you hold mine, after all? Oh, and since you truly a vision of perfection rivaling Irori himself, perhaps you should go ahead and get a hundred thousand gold coins and the throne of Brevoy arranged for my dear brother, I'm sure he'll enjoy having those since you could get those for him tomorrow after all. Ah, but now I'm just being snide, pardon me if you will. So now to answer this truth you have constructed for ourselves to reside in; acid." It's obvious to an experienced combatant, that despite his relaxed stance, Roan's ready to move on a moment's notice, watching for the slightest twitch of Sanita's hands to spring into action. "Or if you'd like, I'll construct us a different truth, and we'll go from there. After all, ultimatums are such a bore, wouldn't you agree Ouroboros?"
Sanita shakes her head. "Sorry, no leash for me, Roan. I don't do leashes. That's the point. I can do the job, but not with a leash. You don't hunt foxes with your dogs tied to your horse. If you wish acid, I'll give you acid, and fire, and we'll see who burns. I repeat, if you want to be part of making this thing work, I can use the help. But I won't have your sword over my neck. That's what you don't understand, my people, my neck. If someone in my employ goes rogue, then I will take care of them. Not you. Not Wilhelm, Not Lanya, Not Dante. Me." She drops the rapier on the mattress and slowly steps down from the bed, until she's on the floor.
As she descends from the bed, she places a hand on the table to steady herself. Her fingers entwine with the belt that lays there. The belt all her flasks are on. Over a dozen flasks of acid and alchemical fire.
She smiles. "Are you ready to die for your ambition to be my watch dog and ride herd on my people, Roan? I'm willing to die to prevent you from being my damoclesian sword. On the way back, we were attacked by pirates. You heard I'm sure. What you didn't hear was that we blew up the ship to kill someone who had learned the secret of the sting ships. I did that is, I blew up the ship to kill the man who came to steal that secret, because that secret is needed for this country. I blew up that engine room with myself in it to keep that edge for this country. Do you have that conviction Roan? Are you ready to die for your beliefs?"
Sanita is absolutely prepared to die right now rather than have someone watching her as Roan proposes. Or at least, as he's presented what he wants.
"As you prepare to fling fire and acid, and burn us to death, you still to the last, fail to understand. If you were trusted enough to run without a leash, then I'd have never any reason to step forward, and they would have raised their voice against it. You, aren't, trusted. If I die, do you believe that will change? How many people who try to hold your leash do you think you'll have to kill before they trust you? Ah, but yes, if everyone who attempts to keep tabs on you dies, they'll only have more reason to wonder what secrets you're so desperate to hide. If you were trusted to police your own, there would have been at least one who argued against this part of my plan. Did your agent tell you this? That as the council debated my plans, not a single person suggested that I should not keep an eye on you? Not one. Not Wilhelm, not Dareon, not even your little friend Fharn. Only Rowan spoke on your behalf, and even he merely implied that someone trusted you, and that it would be too expensive to watch you. That's the only defense you got, it was too costly to bother, but no one suggested it wasn't needed.
You insist this is for my petty ambition, and time and again, I tell you that you do not understand. You do not have the trust to perform this job as you should, you cannot escape the attempts to be leashed. I simply offer you the least of evils. So choose with your conviction, do you accept that I will be here, the only one who will watch you with concern of making sure that you are unhindered? Or do you attempt to slay me, engendering further distrust, and ensure that your collar only tightens further? Trust me, and you'll gain the ally who will consistently speak on your behalf, who will say he's found nothing to report, who will finally give them a better reason to trust you. Unless of course, you're a fool who needs to be put down, I will not lie on your behalf, merely give you more allowances as to what is 'acceptable behavior' than anyone else who will watch you. You spit at me as your enemy, but I'm the only ally you've got in this."
Sanita shakes her head. "That was one lie too many Roan, be gone from this room now. Either I'm in charge of the espionage or I'm not. I'm not going to have you like a gargoyle around my neck. If Wilhelm doesn't trust me, then he can revoke my position. I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks. Now go, or by the gods I'll burn this entire damn fort down around our ears and rip your throat out with my teeth while it burns. GO!" She orders, loud enough for people to hear. "Out of my room, Roan! I didn't invite you in here, now leave!"
Roan turns and leaves without another word.
Sanita waits within sight of the wagon while Lanya and the old woman are fitting Wilhelm, and when the fitting is over, she approaches the group. "Wilhelm? If I might have an hour of your time?" She asks politely. Then she bows to Lanya. "My apologies for interrupting, I hope your dress turned out the way you wanted." She dimples at Montiff. "I'm sure it did though, Grandmama raves about Montiff Dresses."
Once away from Lanya and Montiff, Sanita smiles. "If you don't mind Wilhelm, I saw Roan over in Olegs, and I asked Oleg for his private room. " Leading Wilhelm to Oleg's, she gather's Roan's eye, and jerks her head, indicating she wants him to follow as well. Once in the private room, she'll wait for Wilhelm to be seated, and give Roan time to come in or not.
Once the door is closed, she takes out a small music box and winds it up, letting it play it's rather tinny song loudly. She then sits and speaks in a soft voice that needs to be concentrated on to hear, even in the room, over the music box. "Wilhelm, we can't continue like this. I can't do my job if I'm constantly watching over my back for people snooping into me trying to recruit. Nor can I do a good job if I keep having people breaking into my room at 2 in the morning, weapons drawn, to tell me they want to help me by being my keeper and leash holder while holding a weapon on me while I'm naked in my bed. Either Roan backs off, or he works within the structure legitimately, or you make him the spykeeper and I step aside. But the current situation with him being your stalking horse isn't going to work."
"First I wanted to thank you, in the behalf of the people, including me, for spending your money in such a good endeavor. I am also interested in the well being of the inhabitants of this lands. I am also looking to create a printing press, and want people to be able to read, so my work is useful to them. I was interested in helping you build the school, but I was thinking in an elementary school, not a higher one. Reading and writing, some addition, those kinds of things."
Dareon chuckles as they walk. "Oh, you don't need to thank me - that's not why I'm doing it. It's my job, and I wanted to do it."
He does, however, listen carefully to the rest of Wyssal's proposition, his sharp eyes on her mouth as she talks to ensure that he doesn't miss any of it. "A printing press! And an elementary school eh? Those are very worthwhile ideas, and believe me that I've been advocating for a greater emphasis on the lore with the council. I will bring your concerns to them, of course, and perhaps if it doesn't happen, we can build it ourselves, yes?"
Dareon scratches his head and looks away for a moment before looking back. "Do you have a way that I could easily get ahold of you? When I need to go attend to my duties, I want a way to find you again. Perhaps we can associate in the future, you know?"
Evelynn smiles. "Well, I'm less worried about poison myself, but then, I've grown up drinking antidotes regularly. As to why kill Oleg... if I were to want to undermine your undertaking, I'd start by picking off your vulnerable allies. Oleg and his wife are what my sister calls 'soft targets'. They are trusting, and they don't really understand the mentality of someone who'd poison 14 people to get one person." She raises an eyebrow tellingly. "Oleg's also been your steadfast supporter from the start, and he's very popular amongst the locals. A lot of the locals that don't really want a government around listen to him, and are holding off to take a wait and see attitude. Losing Oleg would cost you support amongst the locals. And if such a death could be blamed on someone higher? Either by framing or just letting it be known he was killed for being your ally? Either would hurt Wilhelm's government." She shrugs though. "I'm sure all that is already something you'd take into account though. Anyway, once you have a Military Intelligence Tribunal, I'd like to offer my services on it." She gives Dante a salute. "Sir."
"I would be honored. I am staying in a humble house near here."
She gives him the directions to it. As a paying guest, that is it as she doesn't have a house yet.
"You're staying in an inn?" says Dareon, his eyebrows arching in surprise. He looks the halfling up and down (well, frankly, mostly down) appraising her attire. No commoner's rags, to be sure. And he's sure he knows that at least one of her items is magical.
He glances at her headband, and to his vision the thing flashes with a quick light, and its functions are transmitted to him.
He was right! It is magical.
Hmm.
"You know," he begins, somewhat haltingly. "It would be for entirely selfish reasons, as the accomodations won't be much better, but I purposefully built room into my home for travelers. If you wish to stay there, you can stay free of charge, and you will be fed, and your laundry done, and you can have access to my libraries."
"Obviously not a permanent arrangement, but if you wish to move out of the inn, know that my home's bunkhouse is open to all."
After a few moments, he opens his mouth one last time. "It's guarded, too."
The Halfling face lightens up.
"Really? Well, I wouldn't like to impose myself... but if it's no problem, I would thank your generosity, and put myself to your service, for whatever my humble efforts can be useful."
"It's no imposition!" laughs Dareon, "I had it built that way! I'm sure you can put yourself to much use. I'll be seeing you around, though, as I have work to do." he says, accelerating towards Oleg's for the customary meeting with the other Founders - they had this month's construction plans to make, of course, and he wanted to make sure they didn't forget about his needs. He stops for a moment, though, taking a scrap out parchment out of his robe and writing a quick note on it with a pen. He holds out the note to Wyssal, saying, "Show this note to the guards at the walls, if you want to move your things over to the bunkhouse. They'll let you in."
"Thank you!"
Anastacia approaches Dante's picket lines with her hand held high and full of light. It is a simple light spell, cast on the blade of a dagger, of course.
She finds Dante's sentries alert. Anastacia had not really expected it to be otherwise.
The young fellow who steps forward to challenge her seems relatively comfortable in his leather lamellar and he holds his spear like he knows which end has the point on it. Still, Anastacia notices that his grip is too relaxed. She could easily knock the shaft aside, leaving the poor fellow open to a fatal strike. The man is on the road to being a warrior, but he has a long way to go.
Of course, Dante has his work cut out for him, turning raw recruits and thugs into a competent fighting force.
"Anastacia Stormwing." The cleric answers the query. "I'm here to see General Dante."
The soldier mutters something about it being the middle of the night, to which Anastacia answers: "War takes no naps. Now, please tell The General that he has a guest."
Anastacia sheathes the dagger, thus hiding its light. There is no need of it here, near the picket fires.
Raising an eyebrow as Shimmer answers, Wilhelm struggles to maintain his decorum, obviously caught off guard. It seems that my cousin's -can he, or she, even be called that now?- departed from what is known faster then I could have anticipated. Jerking his head through the basics of a nod as Fhârn suggests they take a seat, Wilhelm says, "Ah, yes. That would be... well. I'm glad to hear that the... snarl?, There is a questioning edge to Wilhelm's voice as he pauses, "The snarl is well well. I apologize, I stand here jabbering while you're tired from the road. Please, let Fhârn show you to the table Rowan's picked. I'll see to your entourage and join you in a moment."
Gazing after the pair as they enter Oleg's, Wilhelm stands lost in thought for a moment. I must learn to accept this, but it still so damned odd to think that's Felix. Moreso now to hear her speak of broods and snarls. Breaking his reverie, Wilhelm gestures to the kobold's milling about, "Friends, we welcome you to Zatoksta. If you care for refreshments, don't hesitate to ask." Glancing about, Wilhelm finally spots a guardsman standing at attention. Motioning to the young woman (in truth older then he), Wilhelm says, "Annik, kindly see to the comfort of our guests. I'll be inside discussing diplomatic matters with Shimmerscales. Feel free to pull in off duty guardsman as needed to man your place."
Satisfied that courtesy had been served, Wilhelm enters Oleg's and quickly identifies the table chosen. Taking a seat, Wilhelm catches the tail end of Rowan's question. He listens with interest as Shimmerscales answers.
Wilhelm mutters in half-jesting reply, "And since when have I ever been accused of being wise? I suppose we'll see when you don this dress of yours."
Holding firm to his resolution to give as good as he got, Wilhelm retorts, "I suppose I should be glad this is so entertaining for you, Lanya. And here I was thinking you might just be here to help the venerable Mlle. Montiff and that this would be terribly dull for you." His resolve cracks somewhat at her suggestion of a late night show. He replies after a moment, flushing pink, "Perhaps it might at that, but I'm afraid it's entirely too chill for that. Unfortunate for you, no?"
The cracks in Wilhelm's resolve continue to grow as Lanya's teasing fingertips trail across his back. Gritting his teeth against the tingling lightning that seem to flow from her hands, Wilhelm begins a meditation exercise as he's fitted. That... that is entirely unfair. He focuses on keeping his face calm and his body from tensing despite the burning rush that threatened to engulf him.
After a pleasant (if frustrating) eternity standing in the wagon being poked and prodded and measured from a variety of angles, Wilhelm suppresses (unsuccessfully) a sigh of relief as the measurements are concluded for the day. Donning his cloths again, Wilhelm nods to the Mlle. and says, "Thank you, Mlle. Montiff, for your assistance in finding me appropriate court attire."
He does glance at the dress as Lanya recovers it, blushing as she notices his gaze. "I was simply thinking that after your... opportunity... today, it would be fair that I see this dress that you've been talking about for so long."
Stepping out into the light of the day, Wilhelm breaths deep of the fresh air, trying to clear his mind of the temptations that had lurked in the wagon's shadow. I do wonder what that dress looks like on her. She's oddly secretive about it, normally she'd throw that sort of thing in my face. Odd, to say the least. Distracted, Wilhelm barely notices as Sanita as she walks up and bows. Realizing he was being spoken to after a moment, Wilhelm finally shakes off his thoughts and nods, "I, uh, suppose I do at that."
Following Sanita, he finds his thoughts wandering away from Sanita and her mysterious request and back to the bundled dress. Perhaps this isn't something she intends to wear publicly... The thought nearly trips him up and he stumbles a moment before recovering and clearing his throat, blushing red. "Of course, Oleg's, fine."
Taking a seat in the room, the tinny song played by Sanita's noisemaker finally shakes Wilhelm's thoughts free and he focuses on Sanita's words. Annoying music box, if clever. No eavesdroppers eh? How paranoid we are Sanita... Casting an annoyed glance at the irritating thing, Wilhelm returns his full attention to Sanita, frown growing as he listens. Rubbing his temple wearily by the time Sanita is done, Wilhelm turns a hard gaze to Roan and demands curtly, "Explain this behavior, brother. As I'm at a loss as to your reasoning."
"An opportunity was it? An opportunity for what exactly Wilhelm?" She smiles broadly at Wilhelm with another of her playful gazes.
"In due time, I need to fix my proper accessories with it. It won't take that long though to acquire those. See it as a sort of holy symbol if you will."
Montiff smiles. "Oh dear boy, you should be glad Sanita didn't take it as a joke. I wouldn't be here if she hadn't." She watches Lanya tease Wilhelm and her eyes dance. "I may be old, but I still like my distractions... and you're an excellent distraction. Besides, you shouldn't be ashamed of any... unusual... preferences for clothing boy. You'd be shocked... well, you would be, I'm sure Ms. Beladon wouldn't be... at how many matching dresses I make for noble couples." She grins, and continues work at fitting the blushing Paladin.
I doubt you'll find one premade. However, there's more than enough artisans around now with the city growing to have one commissioned I'd think. As to cost, it should cost what a holy symbol costs. Depends on what you get it made out of (wooden vs silver vs gold). So how long it takes depends on what it's made of. I'd say there should be a smith that can take it on with at least a +10 on his check, so... 20*20=40gp per week Leinathan? So divide the cost by 40gp and that's how many weeks...