Search Posts
"I'll drink to that," Auguste says.
”A chance to spin an interesting tale to a royal audience? I could never turn down such an opportunity. And, my experience tells me that such affairs provide no end of entertainment and… inspiration… for my next pamphlet.” Auguste gives a wry grin and drinks deeply from his wine glass.
”Or both,” Auguste says, dusting himself off from the recent scrap. He has a look around this chamber for anything else of interest.
"By all means," Auguste says to Thaddeus graciously. "I never had much knack for machines."
"I don't know much about constructs," Auguste says. "And I don't relish the idea of getting close to that acidic cloud."
”Wretched thing.” Auguste tries to skewer the hand again. (Still the one that attacked him.)
"Am I being strangled by this hand, or by the patriarchy?" Auguste gasps.
Auguste tries to pry off the hand that is strangling him with the point of his spear, cutting at it in the process.
"A little help," he rasps, his face turning purple.
Auguste gingerly attempts to skewer the stone hand with his newly acquired spear.
Auguste moves to get a closer look. ”Poor thing. It seems to have fallen to pieces. I suppose the pressure got to it.”
Auguste holds his new spear ready. (Delay to see what happens.)
Auguste shrugs and takes a sword. ”Hmm. Weighted differently than I am used to, but a fine weapon all the same.” Even so, he stows the weapon in favor of his trusty rapier.
"I do," Auguste says, drawing his rapier. He approaches cautiously.
"These look to be of fine make," Auguste says, squatting down to examine the weapons.
”I thought everyone had heard of the famous horse-wenches of Oppara,” Auguste says with his usual dry wit. He draws his rapier as he follows.
"Well, we have been sent to investigate..." Auguste cautiously tries to open the battered door.
”Somebody who knows the family secrets, I should think,” Auguste muses. ”A jealous distant relation? A disinherited heir? With families such as these, some melodrama is par for the course.”
Auguste nods in agreement.
Auguste draws his rapier and casts light upon it. ”Always a handy trick, that,” he says with a grin. He moves through the doorway.
"Ah, well done!" Auguste says. "Shall we try the key?"
"At the risk of stating the obvious, I believe we should be careful. There is no telling what wards may guard this tomb." Auguste begins inspecting the facade for markings, writing, or other symbols.
He also casts detect magic.
"It may be for the best," Auguste concedes over a glass of wine, with a nod to Emiliano.
”It could be a good experience. And the road to Oppara is not so dangerous as all that. Still, I don’t think any of us have any interest in interfering with a family matter,” Auguste says.
"I don't expect them take the word of Aayef, but perhaps of the blade itself." "In any event, Aayef can decide his own fate," Auguste says. "I know something of being a foreigner in Oppara, and it has its challenges. If his future plans lie in Qadira, then so be it. If he wishes to travel, who knows what the future holds?"
Auguste, in an uncharacteristically sympathetic gesture, pats the lad on the back before heading back.
"Where did you plan to go, Aayef? Perhaps there are opportunities for you in the North."
”I don’t know that being a subject of my prose is a goal to which any decent person should aspire,” Auguste says sardonically. ”In any event, bravery and character will hopefully take you far in life.” ”As for the sword, we have been tasked with retrieving and restoring it to the Remaio family of Taldor, in whose keeping it had remained for generations. We did not expect to find it had a will of its own. Surely… O Sword… you would seek to be reunited with that noble family.”
Auguste's eyes widen. "That is no ordinary sword. Did it speak to you before you took off with it?"
Auguste gives a smile. "Allow me to introduce myself: Auguste de Bernardin. We have come all the way to Qadira on an important errand that did not involve saving strapping young heirs from arachnids. Let's get you back so that we can get on with what we came for."
Auguste moves to a better position and fires his crossbow at the scorpion.
Auguste steps back and reloads his crossbow. Rather than firing, however, he casts a quick spell.
When Auguste is in view of the scorpion, his mount stops with alarm. He dismounts hastily.
Dismounting less than gracefully, Auguste steadies himself and fires his crossbow at the scorpion.
”Maybe there will be some tracks on the outside.” Auguste maneuvers through the gap in the wall.
Auguste joins for a look around the grounds.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Ghazali." Auguste takes a sip of the proffered beverage and tries to conceal his disappointment that it is not alcohol. Seeing the lady's emotional state, he treads lightly. "We have been sent to facilitate the re-purchase of a certain sword. I understand that word has come before us on this matter. We are hoping it is an amenable transaction to all parties."
Auguste looks at Emiliano, and then at Dawnilea, and simply shrugs. ”No reason to tarry overlong, I suspect a day or two for rest and supplies, then?” He pauses and looks back to Emiliano. ”Unless you need longer. For a bachelor like myself, surrounded by sailors day and night, I found no shortage of amiable companionship in the berths. But others may be missing their recreations.”
”I suppose that depends on who’s looking,” Auguste says with a pointed look at Emiliano. He gives a faint grin and takes a swig of his wine.
”How are we to retrieve this sword? Are you funding its repurchase?” Auguste asks.
"This one was interesting enough," Auguste agrees. "I'm interested to see where this goes."
"Yes, her daughters were informed and should be making the necessary arrangements," Auguste says. "If I may ask... When did you last see your cousin? Or the condition of her estate?"
Auguste gives his host a guarded smile. "I must say, your missive this time around was... terse. I respect that - brevity being the soul of wit and all that - although never my forte. All the same, it gave some cause for alarm. What need was there to be so circumspect in your communication?"
"Oh this is serious business," Auguste says to Thaddeus. "People have killed for less. I once heard of a dowager who poisoned a fellow gentlewoman's drink for wearing the same dress to a ball. It is easy to imagine the motives of someone opposed to our dear patron."
Auguste does little to hide his disdain for the jail's foodstuffs, but he remains generally well-behaved. Back at the docks, he raises an eyebrow to Dawnilea. "My first thought was he's in some sort of trouble, but a trap is possible - and just as we were due to be paid. It's always amazing that something is suddenly amiss when it is time to pay the bill." |