Not interested in lending his voice to the negotiations -hardly his area of expertise, after all- Corven simply waits patiently for them to be over, at the same time keeping an eye on Zoag.
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"My little walk around town bore little to no fruit I am afraid," Corven reports with a shrug after the group gathers together once again. "The town appears to have returned to at least some level of normalcy, people going about their lives." "Oh, and Cole managed to stay out of trouble as well," he adds with a little smile.
Not seeing anything of note, Corven does on occasion glance Cole's way. If for no other reason than to keep an eye on the man. After all, it would not be the first time one's tongue got one in trouble.
"Impressive," Corven says simply after the... spectacle ends. At any looks from his companions he just shrugs. "He is strong and resilient. That much I can recognize and even respect." He smiles thinly then. "That is not to say of course that I have already forgotten the pieces of glass in my face."
"If he... acts out again, as you put it, I can assure you I will be the one taking those permanent measures," Corven says, anger barely restrained, but restrained nevertheless. "Quite quite permanent indeed." "As for the bard," he continues, "well, he did lead me on a merry, if brief, chase. But other than that he does seem clueless. And more or less harmless. Although I do hope I will not regret these exact words some time in the future if we do let him go."
"I do believe I actually feel as bad as I must look," Corven manages to quip. Still, his voice comes out in almost a hiss as his eyes turn from the patrons to Caggan. "I must admit, I am of a mind to perhaps repay our... detainee here." He does take a step towards the tavern owner, but nevertheless manages to stop himself. Barely. Despite his bravado, he is barely standing and a fight would not be wise right now. It might be just welcome, but not wise.
Taking one last look at Caggan, Corven offers him just a thin mirthless smile, the meaning behind it clear enough. Still, the man does not stay and fight, seeing as how the real targt is making a run for it. Instead he simply ignores the tavern owner and sprints behind the bard.
Not expecting an attack, especially one so sudden, Corven's head and face feel as if they explode with pain. The dizziness that follows is hardly a surprise then, and the same holds true for the fact that his attacks against the tavern owner miss entirely.
"I think not, but thank you for the offer," Corven replies simply, a thin smile on his face. The man then moves to approach Kels, sitting beside the bard. "You do not mind," he says, more a statement than a question. "I am not going to tell you to cheer up, or that you have nothing to worry about. From your expression, I should think that you believe you do and that is enough. Still, I would very much appreciate it if you did not add escaping arrest -or attemtping to anyway- to the list of things you have to worry about."
"Then I am sure you will not mind if I keep you company while you do? Keep him here that is," Corven speaks up, moving just a little closer to Kels, albeit in a non-threatening and rather casual manner. "How does that sound, Alicarus? Care to bring that writ while I stay with these fine gentlemen? Or would you prefer our roles reversed? I do not particularly mind either way," he continues, a shrug of mild indifference complementing his words.
Corven remains silent as he is fairly certain Alicarus has more to say in reply to Caggan's words. Still, he stands ready and vigilant in case this escalates into something more than a simple debate, at the same time keeping his eyes on the Bard, a faint smile on his lips. The meaning behind it clear enough. "Do not do anything stupid."
"By all means," Corven readily agrees with an accompanying smile. "I am assuming words will be used first? I am not against taking care of this peacefully, although I am not entirely sure Bolgart shares this particular point of view, especially if our previous encounter is any indication. He certainly seemed... uncooperative, at first anyway."
"So, I am assuming tavern owner firat, minstrel second," Corven remarks simply. "If it is anything like when we... informed people of the new rules, it should go smoothly enough." He pauses for a moment before continuing. "And if not..." He lets the sentence unfinished save for a thin smile and a shrug.
"I swear my absolute allegiance to Archbaron Darellus Fex, Her Infernal Majestrix Queen Abrogail II of the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune, and the Empire of Cheliax." Corven repeats the oath, the throbbing pain in his hand doubling as he does. He grinds his teeth against both it and some unpleasant retort or another, at the same time wondering if perhaps some day the vow will not prevent him from... having words with the Archbaron.
"So be it then," Corven says with a sigh before approaching the stand and the crystal on. Placing his hand on the dark stone, he finally speaks the oath. "I swear my absolute allegiance to Her Infernal Majestrix Queen Abrogail II of the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune, and the Empire of Cheliax." As his palm is burnt, the fire feeling... wrong somehow, he winces at the sensation but nothing more. It hurts, yes, but it is the smell he finds more unpleasant.
"I am convinced," Corven says simply as the debate goes on and some are beginning to agree to the terms as well, adding, "more or less." Stepping forward he takes his place alongside Cole and Pelleas, ready to swear his allegiance. "If for no other reason than the simple fact my patience is dwindling," he mutters under his breath.
"There are? Their lyrics must be interesting indeed," Corven quips with a smile. The Archbaron's explanation is probably as good an answer as they will be getting, but he still awaits before signing in case there are more words on the matter from either party.
Corven does not speak, but his thin smile and a little nod do show that his own thoughts and Cole's words apparently align. He may be in agreement, but if his growing up within the Asmodean church has taught him anything is that contracts are a serious matter.
"Order is a fine goal to work towards," Corven says simply. And then adds with a shrug and a smile, "And as Castiel said, it also sounds interesting, which is usually a good thing compared to the alternative."
Although not in the man's employ as much as the others, Corven has to admit he is at the very least curious what the one issuing their orders is like face to face. And the coin is certainly welcome. It is not like he has need of much in the way of weapons or armor, but spending cash is always useful to have around. Still, he cannot help but look forward to the opportunity to use his abilities and skills. And talking and diplomacy are not exactly the traits he excels at. "Perhaps the next assignment will be a bit more challenging. And in a different way than the last," he mutters softly, mostly to himself.
Corven assumes a fighting stance and stands ready to charge one of the deputies to support the strix, but the woman's voice stops him, or at least slows him down. Being the new addition to the group, he is still not quite certain how slow or quick they are to fight, so he looks at Cole, being the one fired at, for a sign whether he should engage or not. Of course, he also watches the now armed deputies, because if this continues to escalate, then no signal will be needed.
Corven, his back leaning against the wall, keeps his arms crossed in front of his chest as he watches the proceedings, his eyes lingering on Bolgart in case he tries anything. "I have to admit," he remarks in a conversational tone to Castiel, "I did not expect this to go so... calmly. It is to the Sherriff's... err... ex-Sheriff's credit that she has followed her orders without any unpleasantness, especially given the nature of said orders."
"I am sure there will be no actual assaulting, Alicarus," Corven says simply and matter-of-factly as he steps forward to add some support to the other men's words by his presence alone. "Will there, sir?" The words themselves do seem courteous enough, but there is just the hint of a threat behind them. A hint, but one that is clear enough nevertheless.
"As long as it is by the door, then it should matter little," Corven offers. "Anyone who enters or exits is bound to take a look. And once they do I am sure they will find it... interesting enough to read."
"And provided things go as well as they have gone so far, that just leaves the jail for last," Corven thinks out loud as they start making their way to the tavern. "And the Sheriff I believe?"
Not expecting that this particular decree will sit well with the woman, seeing as how not only does she and her husband live nearby but are also the gate's keepers, albeit unofficial, Corven waits to see how this will go. That and he stands ready to perhaps gently restrain Bolouisia in case she takes it particularly badly indeed.
Leaning against a wall nearby, Corven cannot help but smile a little. He appreciates the woman's calmness and the effect it has on the other people standing about, as it helps make things simpler, more peaceful. And he has to admit, her questions are logical, not unexpected. 'Your move,' he thinks simply to himself as his eyes turn to Alicarus. He does not keep them on him though, preferring to observe the people in case any of them decide to take matters into their own hands, foolish though it would be.
"I see the Archbaron likes his taxes, both old and new," Corven remarks offhandedly. His tone is neutral, evident of his simply making an observation rather than passing any sort of judgment on the man. "There is an apothecary near here, a Doctor Gerya Rohalendi," he adds then after looking around and getting his bearings before his gaze returns back on the locals lingering about, "in case any of you need to purchase any medicinal or herbal supplies."
"We do have to start somewhere," Corven agrees. "Should we split up? It would mean we would be finished sooner rather than later if we go to more than one place at the same time."
"Besides, there were quite a few people listening to that speech," Corven points out. "Just because everything ended peacefully enough does not necessarily mean it will be so every time." He smiles. "So it may not be just those three who will be upset or show their displeasure." "As for sneaking about, it should be simple enough. And if we are seen, well... Most if not all of you have been seen already along with where your allegiances lie. Being you -well, and I- who put up these decrees will probably not surprise all that many people."
"Better to take care of a weed before it spreads in the whole garden," Corven remarks simply. "It is cleaner and faster and takes less resources." "And it would take a fight for my uses to show themselves, I think," he turns to Pelleas with a smile. "I did say that my skillset was not really suited to being a priest."
"Pleased to meet you, Alicarus," Corven says, offering his hand. "And you do make a good point. More than one actually. It does take two to argue after all, and I can certainly accept my share of the blame." "Although I am not a particularly... devout man, I was raised and educated by clerics of Asmodeus, who made for strict and disciplined surrogate parents. Now, I may not have particularly liked the former, or facets of it anyway, but I did grow to appreciate the latter, even if I found that the life of a priest was not for me." He shrugs. "Take from that what you will, but my talents and my skills are more of the physical kind, rather than the spiritual." He pauses for a moment before continuing. "After a while I left the temple and indeed Cheliax. But no matter where I went I found I rather missed my homeland's more disciplined traits. I am not the most fervent of patriots, as I am certainly not the most fervent of Asmodeans; if anything, I find Irori's teachings quite a bit to my liking, though I could do with a little less of the rigidity." He smiles again. "But that does not mean I want my country to fall to the chaos those of the Reclamation seem to be preaching about." "As to what I can do? I can fight without the need for weapons, and I can be pretty... discreet if I need to be. Stealth, subterfuge, that sort of thing." He looks at the black-haired woman, as well as Cimri, and shrugs almost apologetically. "Although on occasion I am not. The oocasional lack of patience at slights, real or imagined, is probably in my blood, you might say."
"Such mouth! Colorful if nothing else," he quips. "Not terribly original, but still..." Corven takes a deep breath. "Now that we have all..." He pauses. "Well, alright, some or even just two of us postured sufficiently, is there anything of substance you would like to know? I am sure we could banter like this all day, but I am assuming you have places to be, places I could perhaps tag along." "And I hear well enough. But I do appreciate the concern and the advice, oh quick-footed one." He seems rather unperturbed by the insults. "I am not all that good with nicknames, I admit, but since you have not yet introduced yourself... Which is common courtesy, I might add." "Sorry, I could not help myself...," he adds sheepishly, referring to his reminding her about common courtesy.
"I speak as I am spoken to," Corven returns with a shrug. "I believe some of your friends can attest to that. So if your ally, or you, for that matter, like courtesy, well, you may as well show it to be shown it." The man's smile remains despite the conversation subject and the general posturing and threatening. "As for arrows, I suppose they make for... unpleasant acquaintances, to be sure. As do fists. And blades. And spells that harm. Coin on the other hand, a bit more pleasant. As is a good fight. Your point?" He chuckles softly. "Pun not quite so intended."
"My my my," Corven says, his voice soft, his tone casual. "It seems you are rather lacking in manners. Your... allies have seemed much more cordial so far. They have certainly not threatened me with trees and being tied to them." He pauses, his expression changing as if something has just occurred to him. "Or do you have something of a thing for ropes and blindfolds? If so, I am afraid I am not willing to accommodate you, though your... friend here might be." His gaze turns to indicate Castiel as the 'friend' in question. "As I have said to others friendlier than you, my name is Corven. Corven Sworn if you need it in full, though the second part will probably tell you little if anything at all," he continues. "It is a word rather than a proper last name. Other than that, I am Chelaxian-born and Asmodean-bred. By the clergy that is, although I will admit I am not much of a priest. Not my particular interest." "Now, I have shown you some of mine. Your turn... girl." He smiles. "And if you take offense by my calling you that, I do remind you that you referred to me as a stray. That brings to mind dogs. I could very well return the favor with a gender-appropriate word. I did not."
"I think I will," Corven nods at Pelleas' offer. "Cheliax may have its faults, but I do not believe order is one of them. And this Glorious Reclamation seeks to bring about chaos." He smiles. "Besides, you and your... hmm... friends here have made me curious. I may as well satisfy that curiosity." "Where to then?" He pauses then before posing another question. "And also, who are you?"
Corven indeed follows the tiefling, if for no other reason than to indulge his curiosity. Well, that and the fact that at least these new acquaintances seem to have the right idea more or less, something that cannot be said for at least a part of the crowd still lingering about and trying to take a better look at the helmet. Although he does not exactly join the woman and the men in their staring at the crowd, neither does he join the aforementioned crowd. Instead he stands a little to the side, observing and taking note of the sashes. His attention though is mostly on the commoners still around. After all, it is not a rare thing for a gathering of people to turn into a mob. "So," he says, turning to regard Pelleas, "now what?"
"It looks like it is about to start," Corven notes as he looks at the gathering crowd and then at the Church and one of the building's balconies. "Or at the very least something is going on. There is motion on that balcony over there," he adds as he points at the aforementioned position.
"Ah, but does discontent ever just stay where it is? It does tend to spread more often than not," the man offers as the conversation goes on. He then smiles again. "But where have my manners gone? I am Corven, Corven Sworn," he says then, finally introducing himself and proffering his hand for a handshake.
"An admirable goal," the man says simply. Despite his somewhat flat tone he does sound sincere. "What this... movement appears to espouse, its ideas... If they spread and people start believing in them, it can lead to a fractured country and a people lacking in both strength and discipline." He smiles then and shrugs. "Or it will only ever be so much talk and little else."
The man, wearing simple if well-made traveler's clothes, pulls his cloak's hood down revealing a handsome enough face, his sharp features, black hair and fair, almost pale, complexion marking him as a Chelaxian, even if his golden eyes are somewhat unusual for one. "Greetings...," the man says, looking the one talking to him up and down and noting his sash, ...brother." A thin smile appears on his lips. "Curiosity I suppose. And it never hurts to listen as one never knows what one may hear. And you?" He turns his gaze to the others. "And yours?"
Noting the change in the clone trooper armor towards an even more white look than before, Corven sighs and turns his eyes on the Jawas. "Now, now. I am sure we are all friends here," he remarks with a placating geature. "Or at the very least we are not looking to kill each other, yes? So, let us all mind our own individual businesses."
Joining Jak and Moroka, Corven takes a look as well. "If Stigs put the tracker, then we are golden. More or less, anyway. What is a bit of mistrust between business partners, right? But if not..." He lets the sentence unfinished, the implications easily apparent.
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