Chana arrives for the Masquerade determined to brute-force charm her way through the rest of the evening as fast as possible. Despite this determination, the fireworks show catches her off guard. She's never had a chance to see such a colorful display of magic, and it leaves her watching with as much rapt attention as Calix.
Once the show ends, she weaves her way through the crowd until she finds Onora, reasoning that she might as well make the evening as enjoyable as possible.
"Good evening Tribune! As... interesting... as our host is, he certainly knows how to make some amazing things with magic, don't you think? Shame he can't turn that hard work towards making things better in Stachys." She shakes her head. "Well, we'll be doing that ourselves as soon as this party is done. Have you had any luck with the other lords and ladies?"
She does her best to think about what she's learned about the lords and ladies at the Jubilee, then adds "Sittas and Lt. Gortius seemed level headed enough. Not sure how much influence Sittas has though..."
Bartolo laughs jovially at the gap-toothed man's remark, placing his hand on the man's shoulder and giving it a familiar, yet tightish squeeze. "Whichever one would have me, my good friend! I've found myself needing to search for newer pastures after some disagreements in the capital." Tilting his head curiously at the barber, he adds. "The Old Betony House? I, too, hadn't heard it needs reclaiming. Perhaps some long-lost cousins? We all have a few of them, after all. Do indulge me in saying more." Betony... A new start would either mean new opportunities, or a new threat. Whichever it is, it would pay to know about it.
"The count's magic is about as useful as gilding on a peacock's tail," Onora muses dryly. "Most of his court here is just as helpful. At least now, it seems, they shun me not because I'm a commoner but because my costume is several seasons old. They think I'm a bore," she adds, briefly leaning in to emphasize the ludicrousness.
Her lip quivers briefly and she quickly raps a nearby colonnade with her knuckles.
"All that's wrong in the county, and that's what bothers them," she quietly fumes. "That they've seen this costume for the past five seasons? They don't even care about their own people's harvests for the past five seasons."
She sighs deeply and composes herself.
"I should watch my tongue, if not to avoid making myself a target but only because I should be grateful. Not only does Stachys have a pair of noble ladies again, but they actually give a damn. You're right, though. I actually got Sittas and the lieutenant to speak with me, but neither has the influence, let alone the money, to make much of a difference."
"You ain't traveling in some gilded carriage, and you didn't send no muscle to rough us up, and you spent your coin freely. I guess you're all right," mister gap-tooth grumbles. "I think them ladies was cousins of the Betonys. I think that's what they said."
Bartolo recalls that the Betonys were neighbors along his own family's old trade route. The last member of the family, Lady Allis, died a decade back, and with no surviving relatives forthcoming, the family estate fell into receivership. If there is a long-lost branch of Betony cousins, their lineage probably traces to Lady Allis' grandfather; Sir Fulcrim Betony was known - and even lampooned by local bards - for his prodigious virility, siring many offspring.
"That Betony house is haunted," gap-tooth says with a wry smile, perhaps trying to spook the newcomers. "Weird sounds and stuff moving around. Lady Allis holed herself up inside in her waning years, talking to ghosts, they say."
Bouncing pebbles off a tree nearby and catching them again, Dro'gan comments dryly.
"Ghosts are no laughing matter. If a haunting occurs then best to stay away until it settles as I understand such things. Assuming they are not figments of some fevered imagination."
Turning to Bartolo, Dro'gan continues.
"I say we travel together as you suggest, as there is always safety in numbers. I have need to visit the Betony lands for personal reasons, and might as well not have to talk to myself the whole way."
"Well, I've got a feeling that they're not the only ones who might be willing to change things around here. Even some of the old veterans, people who're well used to how things are done in the nobility, those people aren't all that satisfied with how things are right now in Meratt." Chana leans back on her elbows against a railing. Her voice drops to a murmur. "I know my cousin's got some ideas for what we could do here. Really make a change. I mean, if we can't change things here, wot chance does anyone 'ave of doin' the same for the capital?"
She shares more musings and observations with Onora, being careful to not say anything outright against the Count but making her stance plenty clear.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Amandine is grateful to be able to spend a little time with Calix. She stays with him through the fireworks display and gives herself over to enjoying the show. Just as enthusiasm is contagious, so is a lack of it. For the sake of Calix and his enjoyment, Amandine puts aside who is presenting the show and why he would want to do so to simply savor the beauty of it.
When the display ends, Amandine once again calls on Purple Finch to keep and eye on Calix, sending them off to find treats for him to eat.
Now it's time for work, and Amandine begins by finding Baron Okerra. She has already arranged to speak with him, and doesn't want to keep him waiting and wondering.
Amandine asks him if they can find a more private place to talk, and when they're away from prying ears, she tells him the true story of what happened with the manticore. She doesn't give an extremely detailed description of the actual transaction struck with the Iron Lash, leaving it at "we managed to bargain Moffis away from the manticore after Lidia got his attention with a crossbow bolt." It saves time in getting to the meat of her question for him, and it wouldn't do to reveal themselves to be more clever and resourceful than the appearance she's presented so far.
"This left us with a dilemma when Moffis spoke up publicly. He exaggerated greatly, lied even. But he did so from gratitude to support us. I couldn't humiliate him in front of everyone. It would have been the worst betrayal. But at the same time, I have now left us vulnerable, party to a false story."
"How precipitous is our situation do you think? Do you have any guidance to offer for how we might extricate ourselves from this problem?"
"And finally, are you aware of any local libraries or other sources of information where we could learn more about manticores? We have signed ourselves up to kill the monster after all" Amandine concludes ruefully.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Sittas remains a quiet portion of the pair's conversation, and you are able to glean much more information about Gortius. She reminds you much of Greenly, albeit a much polished version of the warrior woman. Listening to the lieutenant praise Baron Okerra and Baroness Voinum as “good in a stand up fight,” while disparaging Sir Gusairne and other “shady blokes,” you realize she prefers those who are direct rather than sneaky.
The baron’s face grows taut as he listens intently to your description. His eyes alternate between making contact with yours and looking at a point beyond your shoulder, lost in thought.
”It seems the count’s hunt left both of us questioning ourselves,” he finally replies after mulling your story for a few moments. ”I can’t abide subterfuge. At least, I never could before. Honesty and loyalty were always the two stones to which I gave the most weight. To be frank, in your place, I would have turned Moffis out for his lie and let him face judgment for the transgression. Of course, it would be a sin for any punishment to fall upon you or your cousin for this turn. You are only guilty of saving a man’s life from a ravening beast. Hells, that’s a crime I would proudly commit,” he says, hazarding a smile from among his salt-and-pepper beard.
He straightens his posture and takes a deep breath.
”I admire that you aim to make things right. Of course, words and deeds are two separate things, so I wish the gods’ blessings upon you when you set out to slay the beast. I could send a man-at-arms or two to aid you on your second, more serious hunt. Not to be presumptuous, but since you just arrived, I’m not sure whether you have any men at your own command. Were this ten or even just five years ago, I would have offered to ride out alongside you myself, but I cannot do that to my Selli. She’s already lost a mother to a troll. I shan’t put her through that again.”
Chana continues to chat with Onora, mind already away from this party and onwards to what the group will be doing next. Now that the ice has been broken, she asks more about what the most pressing things are for Stachys. "Maybe that Iron Lash?"
"Iron Lash? Flying? That's a name that's news to me. What manner of beast is that? A dragon? A pegasus or griffon? Come now...do tell. I love a bit of rumor and unusual monsters."
|
Lidia decides now is the time to step forward and be an active player in the conversation. Though wearing more feminine attire, her muscles and broad shoulders give her a powerful and masculine presence, and she consciously embraces this aspect of herself - though with nervousness and hesitation - to present herself to Lt. Gortius. She speaks about her time in the worldwound, focusing on the parts where she had to fight against the lesser demons and possessed companions in an act of desperation. She asks a bit about the lieutenant's service and combat experience, then wraps it up with another vow to kill Iron Lash the manticore.
Olivia only has a brief time to talk with Lieutenant Gortius, but in that time she manages to make a very positive impression, breaking the ice with their shared experience as soldiers. The conversation is interrupted as Count Lotheed takes the floor and raises his arms, calling for attention.
"The ballroom has been invaded!" he declares with a patrician smile, even while otherwise remaining impassive. "I call upon all of our honored guests to come to its defense."
You recognize this as the traditional opening to the popular Dance of the Phalanx, and even a modicum of familiarity with noble mores and entertainment explains the nature of the dance.
Equal parts strategy game and formal waltz, the dance is performed on a gridded floor - making the palace ballroom naturally suited to the event. Partners are allowed to select the next dance steps from a predefined list related to the music played. Each pair of dancers cannot move into a square occupied by other dancers, and the object of the game is to force every other pair of dancers off the grid, leaving their "phalanx" in control of the "battlefield."
If one or both partners have skill ranks in Knowledge (Nobility), they know enough of the rules and strategy to add 1 to their DMB per partner trained.
If one or both partners have skill ranks in Perform (Dance), they move with enough instinct and fluidity to add an additional 1 to their DMB per partner trained.
Once the music begins, partners attempt DMB checks against increasing DCs. Partners who fail their check are forced off the dance floor and out of the game. The music continues until only one pair of dancers remains.
Guests quickly begin pairing off and whispering strategy to each other.
.....
"I'll have to take your word for it, my friend, I've never been a hunter of beasts.", Bartolo relays, tones of apathy in his voice. Though, I've never hunted anything like that, either, if I have to admit." Shaking his head, he reaches around his back to draw his lute and slowly starts strumming it. "I'd say enough about these tales of... banditry and wicked beasts and barons, my good folk, it's bad for the temperament. Let's have a little liveliness for the night. Does anyone have a song to suggest?", he raises an eyebrow, scanning the crowd for ideas.
Chana stays to the sidelines of the dance floor, snacks in hand. While she isn't opposed to the idea of dancing, her idea of a good time is nothing like this bizarre and stodgy game. And, if she was being honest with herself, she'd never been any good at it, what with the odd joints and spurs getting in the way.
She takes a seat and cheers the others on, watching the crowd only every so often and otherwise relaxing.
Amandine impulsively takes Okerra's hand.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't aware of your loss. I understand your difficulties and those of your daughter. I have been a parent for my brother Calix for several years now, since our parents passed."
When the dance is called, Amandine takes her leave of the Baron. While she greatly enjoys his company, she doesn't want to cling.
"Ah, time for the dance. Sir Lidia and I have a date to partner for it. I will see you again soon I am sure Baron Okerra."
Amandine quickly claims Lidia as a partner before anyone else can.
Chana immediately notes that Count Lotheed sequesters himself off the dance floor. However, Greenly approaches the count and asks him to partner up. He overtly rebuffs her by instead asking Photinè to be his partner.
Not losing any momentum, Greenly strides past Chana and delivers a friendly elbow to her shoulder.
"Hey, you don't want Okerra, do you? Cause he's my next target," the warrior woman asks Chana, perhaps a bit too loudly.
Surprisingly, the guests do not obsequiously defer to the count and his unexpected partner. Rather, most of the partners seem keen to win the dance for themselves, hoping to make a splash on the admittedly limited Meratt social scene.
"I'd give me foreteeth to hear 'The Lass from Cassomir' again," a wiry man with a limp calls out.
Smiling, Dro'gan nods and claps a bit for encouragement.
"Yes! 'The Lass from Cassomir' would be lovely!"
Chana shrugs at Greens "Go ahead, I'm watch from here."
|
|
Olivia is a little bit taken aback by Amandine's forwardness, but she definitely won't say no. She reaches out to take Amandine's hand, then gently pulls her close. Her soldier's background gives her the posture to hold Amandine firmly, providing a gentle but firm frame.
Olivia has watched and participated in this dance since she was a little kid, so she already knows many of the strategies. It's her flexibility and dancing skills that may provide more of a difficulty.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Please don't, my friend, you need them more than I do!", Bartolo replies with a grin, giving the man a tap on the shoulder. Starting to play the lute, the massive noble's ruminating voice begins carrying over the fields.
"In moonlit night, in mists so cold,
A caravan arrived.
For far and distant Cassomir,
yet dawn it brought in sight.
With steeds so pale, like beasts of snow,
on cart of gold and teal,
with eyes of sky, and smile like pearls,
our hearts she stole with zeal.
Oh, Toilday went like summer hail,
and Wealday like a storm, for sight of her
in marketplace,
was blinding like the sun.
On Oathday shrines, and temples both,
were closed, the gods shushed still,
On Fireday, lay fields of hay,
despite our work, unturned.
She danced and laughed and whispered words,
so foreign, yet so known,
And marketday in our old town,
oh, never brought such joy.
She went with dawn on Starday,
the sole light in the skies,
Alas, the lass from Cassomir,
we'd never see again."
The noble's voice, once so brash and loud, whispers with the voice of one with lost love, as the final notes of the lute carry over the stilled crowds. Exhaling, he bows down, and the smile is once again on his face, though much stiller. "Cry you not for the Lass from Cassomir, my good friends. Rejoice, for we'd been blessed with her presence."
Dro'gan claps and cheers along with the crowd, overjoyed as such a great rendition of the classic song-tale.
"You do Cassomir and Taldor proud with your lute. Encore I say! These fellow proud citizens deserve at least a second song before we leave Sir Blacksheep."
Smiling again with his subtle but harmless tease, Dro'gan hits the man with a bit of harder fare.
"Do you know the 'Long-Shadow of the Tarrasque? Its an older song..."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Dro'gan leads the crowd in applause, as the entire troupe of vagabonds sits and stands in awe of Bartolo's performance. You get the feeling that they've gone many moons without entertainment of such caliber.
The Beggarwood denizens react with ignorant confusion when Dro'gan suggests the encore song. They may not recognize the name, but they remain curious - not to mention eager to simply hear the traveler play again.
Chana sits beside Onora as she watches the dance commence, the pairs moving like flowing battle lines. Even at the slow opening chords of the waltz, however, Olivia and Amandine leap to an early lead. They edge two rival pairs off the floor already, including Lord Titus' cronies Dame Hellebore and Mr. Cockleburr.
"I pity Baron Okerra," Onora says, pointing towards the nobleman dancing with Sepsinia Crabbe at her mother's behest. "His partner moves with the grace and enthusiasm of a log."
On the other side of the ballroom dance floor, Greenly has accepted Baronet Paben's invitation and partnered with him. She does not move with much elegance, but her forceful maneuvers make her a dangerous opponent on the dance floor. Even her own partner is not safe.
Starting Pairs: 16
Remaining Pairs: 13
Notable Opponents:
Count Lotheed & Photine
Lieutenant Gortius & Lady Sittas
Baron Okerra & Sepsinia Crabbe
Lord Titus & a courtier
Baronet Paben & Greenly
Chana breathes out sharply at Onora's comment "She's been a bit of a log this whole party!" Sobering a little, she adds "But can you blame her, considering the way her ma shoves her left and right and lays out the only path to follow? I talked with her a bit earlier. She doesn't seem to be all there." She raps her skull with a knuckle. "Or at least she's trying not to be."
"Of course, that might be more than just her ma's influence."
Seeing Olivia and Amandine out there knocking another competitor out of the game, Chana almost starts to hoot her support before realizing her error and turning it into a cough. She goes ahead and claps politely instead.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Round 2 (DC 12):
Round 3 (DC 14):
Round 4 (DC 16):
The music of the waltz gains in tempo, and the competitive grace of the dancers becomes all the more apparent.
After struggling to maintain any ground on the dance floor, Baron Okerra and Lady Sepsinia are almost effortlessly edged out by Lieutenant Gortius and Lady Sittas. Likewise, Olivia and Amandine handily force Lord Titus out of the dance. Greenly takes command of her dance with Baronet Paben and narrowly manages to best the Jubilee's host, eliminating Count Lotheed and Photine.
At the start of the next section of the waltz, with the "phalanx" upon the dance floor quickly thinning down, Olivia and Amandine edge out Gortius and Sittas. Paben, trying to take the lead back from his partner, ends up tripping over Greenly's firmly planted foot - causing him to stumble and fall on his face. He picks himself up and, with much seething, storms out of the ballroom.
At last, only Amandine and Olivia remain against one last couple. However, just as Olivia takes a misstep, Amandine has a chance to nimbly guide her partner and outmaneuver their opponents.
Amandine lets Lidia lead throughout the dance competition except for one moment at the end. When she feels Lidia about to misstep, Amandine exerts some force, pulling Lidia around in the proper direction to foil the other remaining couple.
Olivia's strategy for the final strains of the waltz are sound, but one single misplaced step threatens to foil the effort. Anticipating her partner's peril, Amandine draws upon her dexterity to catch Olivia and guide the two of them out of their rivals' path. Thus, with their combined guile and skill, they outmanuever the last remaining couple and edge them off the dance floor as the music reaches its final crescendo.
As the orchestra winds down, Count Lotheed confers a prize upon Olivia and Amandine, the champions of the Dance of the Phalanx: a pair of silver-and-rosewood ballroom masks depicting smiling faces.
Chana cheers as Amandine and Olivia deal the killing blow and steps up onto the stage to meet up with Amandine and Olivia after they get their prize. "You two were right b- uh, you were both fantastic up there! How'd you get so good at dancing?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Taking another sip of brandy, Bartolo clears his throat. "Ah! In the mood for heroics, I see. Or foolishness, if you're being cynical.", he harrumphs, before striking his lute in a minor tone.
"The heavens, they had trembled, the earth torn aside."
"The barrow fields still of joy, of legends lain aslay'n"
"For all heroes are mortal, a fact that all forget."
"However bright their valour, however loud their name,"
"Silence eternal's all they get."
Pausing for a quiet, mournful stanza, Bartolo continues, even gravelier than before.
"The morning star shone red this year,"
"On sands of marble gold."
"For in the wake of that great beast,"
"Oppara ancient broke."
At the sombrest, the songs picks up once again, this time with a defiant tone.
"Though fear not, my Taldans,"
"Nor age nor beast nor man,"
"Nor seas, hellfire, no eldritch foe,"
"Can keep Oppara down."
"We remember Azlant, were old when elves returned."
"We watched as gods arisen, we watched all ages past."
"No matter what the future,"
With a defiant stroke, Bartolo bows down. Fighting, yes, we have. But age kills as sure as any blade., a cynical thought crosses the nobleman's mind, as he ponders on the ancient song of victory and defeat.
With a smile and a knowing wink, Dro'gan waves at the excited crowd.
"And on that NOTE...I think me and Sir Blacksheep must ready for our departure. We appreciate your interest, advice, and help! I promise from one Taldor citizen to another, if we get the chance to come back this way we will stop again for another afternoon's entertainment. Agreed Sir Blacksheep?"
Lion's Rule#3: Never pass up volunteering someone else to go with you or do something for you.
The masquerade, much like the music, soon subsides, and the guests retire to their suites and cottages.
In the morning, breakfast is delivered to your rooms: soft-boiled eggs, toast, and white wine. The simplicity and lack of fanfare makes it clear that guests aren't expected to linger much longer.
In the halls, you are quickly intercepted by Dame Crabbe.
"Oh, this jubilee was such a delight! And it was all the more refreshing to have some new faces in attendance," she gushes. "I insist that you simply must visit my estate for tea. Shall we say one week hence?"
...
You step out upon the front drive outside, flanked by laburnum trees in bloom with their yellow flowers, and find your carriage lined up along with those of the other departing guests. However, you espy Count Lotheed himself standing beside your carriage, waiting to see you off personally.
|
|
Olivia wants to figure out if Lady Sittas and Lt. Gortius are secretly a couple. She does this by reading their body language.
Then as everything is getting wrapped up, she'll say her goodbyes to Onora, and lets her know that she hasn't forgotten about Stachys.
--------------------
Olivia defers to Amandine and Chana to answer Dame's invitation. It would be completely inappropriate for her to speak for them.
-------------------
"Oh f~+~. I hope we didn't screw it up 'too' bad."
After the dance is over and people begin to disperse into chattering groups, Amandine walks over to talk with Sir Gusairne. She tells him that, one half-elf to another, she knows well the uncomfortable position their kind occupy. But, she has noticed he seems to hold himself particularly apart from others. She ask if it is because he has been told he must, or because it is what he prefers.
At the end of the evening, Amandine will thank Count Lotheed for the hospitality and and entertainment he has provided very graciously. She will also engage him briefly with questions and comments about his show of magic at the beginning of the evening.
Amandine accepts Dame Crabbe's invitation.
Chana spends the last half hour of the masquerade with Lt. Gortius, at first asking her impressions about the dance before relaxing into discussion of the wildlife in Meratt. Although Onora gave her a bit of an idea back in Stachys, and some stories about giant fish and other creatures had caught her attention, Chana figured an expert might know which native creatures were the most cunning, most resourceful, easiest to get along with, and so on.
Near the end, she notices Olivia keeping an eye on the two of them. Chana decides to play the wingwoman and starts moving the conversation toward Lady Sittas, hoping to give Olivia plenty of comments and body language to chew on.
-----
Chana follows Amandine's lead with Dame Crabbe, saying "Absolutely. I'm certain your estate will be lovely. Will Lady Sepsinia be there? We hardly got a chance to talk to her these last few days."
When the group approaches their carriage, Chana eyes Count Lotheed warily from behind her veil. She let's Amandine take the lead in talking to him, confident that he sees the more magically-minded "Betony" as the only important member of the group in any case.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Meanwhile, Onora is too distracted by the relief of being freed from these noble confines and she scarcely registers your farewell. Nevertheless, her outlook on the future for Stachys has been noticeably lifted over the course of the Jubilee.
"My duties do not include speaking ill of my lord's guests," Gusairne states. "So I have little to say to you. I feel no kinship with you simply because we are both someone's bastard. Everything I am, I have earned for myself through diligence and discipline."
He stops just short of outright stating that he suspects you lack these qualities.
"The count rewards loyalty," he says. "Prithee remember that."
.....
In a stark contrast to his seneschal, Count Lotheed reciprocates your cordiality - especially when you direct the conversation towards talk of magic.
"It is such a delight to have minds that can fully appreciate the complexity of the arcane," the count says, hazarding a proud smile. "The rest of my vassals can scarcely see past the sound and fury, let alone comprehend the concentration and mental acuity needed to create the spectacle. Your companion, Lady Michèle, provided unexpectedly stimulating conversation regarding spellcraft. You surround yourself with good company, Lady Betony."
"I desired to thank you personally for attending my Jubilee, especially on rather brief notice," the count explains, offering genuine hospitality and charm. "I understand you've only just reclaimed your family's estate, rescuing it from languishing in receivership.
"I am pleased to have such cultured newcomers in my county, and rather than simply vassals, I look forward to keeping you as neighbors."
.....
A handful of hours later, after rumbling along twenty-odd miles of poorly kept Meratt roads, the carriage carries you through hardscrabble Stachys and to the foot of the Betony Estate. However, you are not the first ones to arrive at the manor this day.
You find a pair of unfamiliar men waiting upon your doorstep.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Indeed!", Bartolo laughs. "And if you keep the tankards full enough, an afternoon can stretch a good week, I've found!", the nobleman gives one last thundering shoulderclap to a Beggarwoodlite. His horse, undoubtedly not looking forward to increasing the already significant load, is brought to him, and soon Lord Blacksheep and his newfound companion set for the Betony estate.
An exhausted looking, slightly aged gray mare is tied shoddily to a post near the doorstep. A massive Taldan man with a short nobleman's beard of latest Opparan fashion waves at the carriage, sitting jovially on the grass with a lute in his hands. The illusion of an everyday noble is slightly broken, however, by the rather large and tribalesque shoanti warhammer at his feet, which he gently leaves on the grass as he stands up, giving the tired mare a hefty pat on the neck with his massive palm.
Slowly approaching the carriage as it slows down, Bartolo extends his hand warily as the door opens, hat in hand, aiding whoever would take the unknown man's hand in aid to descend from the vehicle. "Good afternoon, madams and other madams.", he says, and with only a minor hesitation turns towards Chana, clearly regarding her as the head one in charge. "I do apologise for my rather unorthodox approach and my uninvited appearance, but I was in the area and I heard about the Betony's long-lost cousins, and felt that it's only fair that us new arrivals in the area ought to keep in touch.", he harrumphs in a deep, melodic voice. "I'm Lord Bartolo Talbot, but please, don't hold my last name against me.", he raises his hands. "I can assure you that I'm a sybarite, an insufferable socialite and an immoderate scoundrel.", he adds with a face two tones too straight.
"And being all those things, and a presumptious opportunist to boot, I daresay that, since your manor seems to be lacking a groundskeeper and a maitre'd, I figure that our families can both benefit from some mercantile sense." He shrugs. "Failing all that, I offer a night's worth of song and tales in return for a warm meal and a bed softer than a horse's ass."
Chana immediately raises her hackles at the unexpected "ambush" of having some strangers waiting for the group back at the Estate. However, when the first of the two men proves to speak in flowery prose that tops even what she was hearing back in Oppara, she involuntarily snorts through her nose. She steps out of the carriage without taking Bartolo's hand, but offers a hand to shake afterward.
Both of the two newcomers see that Chana is dressed in a rumpled, puffy gown that obscures her figure. She wears a hat and mostly opaque veil. Bartolo likely notes that her handshake is firm but her hand uncomfortably bony, with ridges where there should not be ridges in a hand.
After composing herself, she says "Well, welcome then, Mister Talbot. Of all the places to arrive in Merrat, you chose to wait at the Estate that was until just recently abandoned. You have some interesting priorities. What brought you here instead of somewhere... else?" She looks over her shoulder at Amandine "Cousin, do we need a groundskeeper or Mitre Dee?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Having remained silent up to this point, the uncomfortable nature of the veiled woman's response leaves Dro'gan a little worried. His pale and splotched features obviously grimace at his compatriot's attempt to put the young women at ease. He scratches his goatee and waves a small salute at the suspicious woman while still leaning casually on his walking staff.
"If it makes you feel any better, I only just met this excellent Gentleman yesterday. I can assure you, despite the enormous hammer obviously compensating for something and brusk talk, he's basically harmless and a marvelous singer I must add. MY name ladies, is Dro'gan: A simple traveling juggler and fellow citizen of Taldor, unfortunately looking for paying work in these dangerous times. I'm currently in need of financing to get myself to Qadira for the next winter season, and Sir Blacksheep here was kind enough to offer to travel with me and help keep me safe, even if he didn't offer me a ride on his wonderful horse to get here."
At this point Dro'gan will pat the dusty animal gently so as not to spook him and make a subtle point. He then pulls a sealed yellowed letter from his sash, slowly so as not to spook the women gathered around either. Especially if he was correct in his suspicions on whom they may be.
"But to my point! I am here...to deliver this. Paid to do so I might add. To the owners of this fine looking manor. From a possible mutual friend as I understand..."
Dro'gan then hands the letter quickly to the closest woman with only a minor flourish. Most will easily note his simple stained traveling clothes, his generally unwashed odor after a day's travel, and his only obvious weapons are a well-worn walking staff and an iron dagger at his waist.
Returning the firm handshake gladly, Bartolo gives a wide smile at the noblewoman's mentions. Well, would you look at that. The noble may not be a noble, after all. Who'd have guessed that long-lost cousins spring up like mushrooms in times of turmoil. Can't be worse than the actual nobles, though, can they?
"The veil does little to hide your sharp mind, Lady Betony!", he says, before crossing his arms. "Word on the road is that the Betony cousins are back, and I thought it only fair to visit our once-upon-a-time trade partners.", he relays calmly. "That, and Oppara's a little...", he fixes his collar. "unwelcoming this time of year, and I decided that a vacation in Meratt is good for the humours." He raises his eyebrows knowingly. "And Meratt can do with a little help, I hear."
The travelling entertainer's notes, however, slightly darkens Bartolo's face. What a merry band of jesters we are., he thinks, before chuckling about the horse. "She already hates me as it is, Dro'gan, no need for her to start hating you as well." Though you should've mentioned the message for the 'Betonys', my simple travelling companion.
His eyes meet Olivia's, and the martial look of the woman clearly stirs him. And a warrior in courtly attire. His eyes glance down at the sword. Showing his palms in a wave, the man turns his signet ring in his palm to show it to the noble. "I'd be more than happy to tell you everything you'd like to know." He glances at the house, tapping away dirt from his trousers. "To start - I'm definitely more of a brandy man.", he flashes a smile.