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Here’s the discussion page as well where we can talk things over if we need to or we can use messenger.
I was thinking about getting a commission of all of us around the council table having a relaxing drink. If I get it done I'll post it up for you all.
Gavriil smirks as the well-dressed man approaches the platform and Edric addresses him. Definitely a noble's son, probably ran away from home for something new. The crazies south of the border must have seemed like a good place to start, he thinks as he sips his brandy. He speaks up to the nervous-looking young man, "Unfortunately you're a few months late. The viscountess has been engaged for some time and has now her illness has developed further into becoming marriage! Though, I'm sure if the brandy wasn't too much for her she will be more than willing to talk to you."
21 Kuthona, 4708 Gavriil wakes earlier in the day than usual. Over the past few days the capitol city of Concord had been buzzing with the approaching festival. Though not a religious man, Gavriil understood the significance of the two holidays and how they probably had a little more meaning to him this year. Especially if his recent dreams were divine intervention on Desna's part. Before the sun breaches the horizon, and still under Desna's twinkling blanket called the night sky, Gavriil pulls the shadows around him and sets out to deliver a few things. First, he stops by Talia's chambers. He gives a quick look up and down the hallway to make sure he is alone before pulling a letter out from his coat and sliding it under the door. She'll probably find it when she wakes. It reads: Talia's Letter:
Viscountess Talia Khavortorov, Slayer of Howls-in-Hills, Ruler of Fairhaven,
I've recently learned of the holiday of Crystalhue and all the strange customs that come with it. Though I am not pious, particularly in the case of Shelyn, I thought at least one of the customs should be observed. I never apologized for what I did to you, Naralesh, and Dregan. We all had accepted the charter to forge into the Stolen Lands and map it out. When the job got too tough I ran away like I have my entire life. I left you three to face the bandit camp on your own. For that, I am deeply sorry. I know words, especially written ones, are often not enough so, if you check with the kitchen staff, they will present you with a bottle of aged Issian Ice Brandy. I seem to remember you favoring that over my whiskey when we sat down to have a drink many moons ago. Sincerely,
After that, he slips through the halls of the castle to the magister's office. He places a small, snow-white collar and a new eye-patch on the desk along with another letter. It reads: Naralesh's Letter:
Magister Naralesh,
I'm not sure if it's this business with the trolls or the colorful crystals illuminating the town, but I'm starting to see things in a new light. Because of that, I need to get something off my chest. I need to apologize to you most of all this year. Since we have first traveled into the Greenbelt I have not always been kind to you. I make comments about you being the one-eyed wizard and joke about bad things happening to Nora. I am wrong to do this. This is no way to treat a friend. You may have noticed that I may have been even harsher in the past few months. I think this is in most part jealousy. I refused to believe that you and Talia were happy together and I think I planted the blame squarely on your shoulders. I refused to see with open eyes that it wasn't you stealing her away, but her finding happiness in your arms and you happiness in hers. That you really were the better pick and the better man for her. For all that I am truly sorry. To help show how sorry I am, with this letter you should find a new collar for Nora. I think she'll look nice with it on. Sincerely,
Next, he tip-toes down the halls to the General's office. He pins the letter down to the table using a new starknife for the general. It reads: Edric's Letter:
General Edric,
Don't worry, it's not an assassin sending you a message. This is a gift. I wanted to thank you for putting up with me over the past months I've been brooding. You've been a true friend and a shoulder to lean on in a time when that was very much needed. I do need to talk to you about your goddess soon, though. It seems that she may be meddling in things she shouldn't be. Your friend,
He makes several more stops to places that the other council members will find them. Vosil's letter apologizes for constantly going against what the man suggests and thanks him for looking out for all of them, along with a bottle of Varasian wine. Asha receives a letter apologizing for Gavriil's constant heathen tendencies with a pendant of a bow and arrow. Darrick gets a letter apologizing for putting ink in the man's tea-cup, though it was hilarious it was wrong, along wiht a new tea-cup. Barrod's letter thanks him for his counsel and comes with a new tankard. After all the gifts and letters are delivered, Gavriil goes out in the town with his lute. He spends most of the day playing his lute and looking for wares among the artisans. Eventually he finds himself near Lily's house and asks her if she would like to go to the ceremonies that evening. Not even in a romantic sense, just to have someone to spend the evening and festivities with. That evening he and Lily go to the ceremonies and sing and dance along with the others celebrating the two goddesses. He laughs, drinks, dances, and plays his lute along with just about anyone that wants to join in on the festivities. As Desna's dust fills the air, Gavriil feels something he hasn't in a long time: Peace.
Alright, folks! I'm back from my trip! Level-up on its way! Gavriil Dreams: Gavriil sits in one of the towers under the watchful gaze of Desna's comet all those many months ago. Looking up at the comet streaking across the sky, Gavriil gently strums his lute and sings a song of respect towards the goddess, even though he doesn't quite agree with their meddling with the mortals. His fingers glide across the strings and he sings to the meteor shower, the flashing lights casting long, hard shadows across his features. Tendrils of shadow spring from his fingers like wisps of smoke as his fingers splay across the strings, shifting and moving across the room behind him. At last his fingers halt with the end of the song, but the music continues. A gentle woman's voice that he had not heard before rises and picks up the tune where he had left off. He looks into the room for the source of the voice and finds a woman made of shadow and stars. Against his own volition, Gavriil moves to the woman and begins dancing with her, his feet knowing every step to the dance already without him knowing it. They move together, light and shadow under the fiery sky and.. Gavriil awakes with a start just as the sky is starting to lighten with dawn, but before the sun actually breaches the horizon. He looks up to the sky at the stars above and wonders if his dream was just the result of too many night-caps the night before and spending too much time with Edric or, possibly, a message sent to him from the Lady of the stars... 1 level of shadowdancer obtained.
Gavriil lets out a slew of curses as the caiman latches onto his leg. He draws back his rapier and plunges it down towards the beast's face.
Gavriil's blade plunges into the caiman's head, killing the beast immediately. He spins as he draws the blade out of the first caiman and lashes out again at the second one.
Just as quickly as he had dispatched the first caiman, the second one falls before it can attack. He draws his blade from the beast and goes back-to-back with Edric, waiting to see if the warriors charge in to their equally quick deaths.
Don’t forget Zippity-Zaster Gotta go faster! HASTE! That’s important now!
Gavriil eyes Vosil out of the corner of this eye with a smirk on his face. He nods to the spymaster and says, "An interesting proposal, but I'm afraid if they ate me they'd probably die of alcohol poisoning. I'd suggest our spymaster to be given up as tribute, but I'm afraid he may be too sour for their palates." He lets out a mock sigh and says, "Though if I must put my diplomatic skills to the test, I can offer them Nora to tide them over through the talks."
Gavriil lays in the mud for a moment, trying to catch his breath, and failing because of the noxious gases mixed with whatever is clinging to him from whatever was inside the plant thing. He slowly picks himself up out of the mud bowl and collapses on the ground near the others. He sucks in as much fresh air as his cracked ribs will allow and says to no one in particular, "I thought they smelled bad," he winces and trails off as he takes in another lung full of air and expells it in a tired sigh, "...on the outside." He rolls over and looks at Talia, "Thanks for the slippery help, but I think you owe me a new set of clothes. These stains are never going to come out..."
Gavriil' muffled attempts to tell Vosil off quickly turn into muffled grunt and gasps of horror as the plant draws him toward its maw. He struggles and writhes in the vines, trying to force his way out of the creature's grasp, but it holds true. Gavriil takes one last gasp of air in as the plant's maw closes over him, drenching him in darkness and juices. There is a brief moment of panick as the digestive juices inside the plant burn away at him. But then he realizes that he still holds his rapier in his hand. No, no, NO! Not like this! he thinks as he frantically moves his wrist, trying to cut his way out of the belly of the beast...
"Tomorrow is the marriage! It's practically here!"
-Gavriil In all seriousness, it gives some great character development!
Gavriil sits in his chair of the council chamber with his feet up on the table and his hand attempting to block the burning glare of a thousand suns that seem to be bursting through the window into the chamber, while his fingers gently massage his temple, trying to ward off the hang-over headache that was pounding new songs into his head. Thankfully, Vosil doesn't seem to be in a chatty mood this morning, and is engrossed in his paperwork. As Talia walks in, though, the headache is alleviated somewhat. Not just because he knew there was explaining to be done about how he remained quiet during the outburst and that he needed to be sharp for that, but also because she just had that effect on him. It was a terrifying effect to a man who had never had that happen to him before, but a somewhat welcome one. He smirks at her as he sees that she too had been drinking heavily the night before. But then she starts talking. And the world stops as he hears those seven words: Naralesh and I are to be married. There's a slight cracking sound that only he can hear, that drowns out the rest of what she says. The small cracking sound that you dread when you walk out onto an icy pond for the first time. And like the ice, his heart splinters, then shatters, dropping him below into the icy depths of the waters. He always was a horrible swimmer. How? When? Was I blinded by the small things for so long that I didn't see what was developing right before my eyes? Did I blind myself to all of this? It was too much for him. And he couldn't let any of them know. What was he going to do? Challenge Naralesh to a duel for Talia's hand to marriage? That was impossible. Naralesh was his friend and that would only push her further away from him. He could speak up about all these feeling he's been too scared to put into words, but even if that worked it would end up with Naralesh devastated and a friendship ruined. Even as bad a man as Gavriil was he didn't want that. He was trapped in a hell he didn't know how to escape. The one long con that the mighty Scoundrel of the Greenbelt couldn't talk his way out of. Luckily, Vosil had been talking at length, giving Gavriil time to process this. No, he would not even peep about this to them. He couldn't. He played off his shock, with a wide grin at the two of them. He quickly got up and went to the door to summon a servant to fetch wine for them quickly. He came back to the table with the bottle and glasses just as Vosil finished up speaking. "You can take care of your paper work later, Vosil. Even though we are keeping this secret, it's still a time for celebration amongst ourselves!" He pours out the wine for everyone and raises a glass with a huge smile across his face, "To the happy couple! May they live a long life!" And then he downs his wine. God it felt good. And he was going to need a lot more...
Gavriil smiled as he looked into the mirror in his room. While most everyone had forgotten about this holiday until it was upon them, Gavriil had seen it coming from months away. There were so few times that they could officially have a party throughout their new lives, that Gavriil actively looked forward to them and planned, at least to amuse himself. While some of the others had minor magics to aid in their disguise, Gavriil had only mundane ways to blend in, and blend in was exactly what he wanted to do tonight. He scratched at the beard he had allowed to grow in ever since they had returned from the elven keep before smearing lather over it and began to sheer it away with his razor. He then took a pair of sheers and cut back his long hair to be close cropped to his head. He took ashes from his fireplace and mixed them with a bit of water before slicking back his hair, giving his normally brown hair a grey-black look. The man standing in the mirror could hardly be recognized, even without the mask. He dressed in simple, but nice clothes, much different from the loud expensive clothing he had been wearing since he had the money to distinguish himself from the lower classes.
He knocked back one last glass of wine before heading down to the court to join the party. Thank the gods that they still got time to play!
Gavriil rides north to their newly founded town of Hart's Rest upon hearing of the bickering feud forming between the two merchant families. Once there, he begins long boring days of actually doing his job for once. He meets with each of the families and talks with them for a few days, trying to find a middle ground between them. After a few days of rubbing elbows, greasing palms, playing music, and burning through the Leveton's stores of vodka (for himself mostly), the two families finally reach an agreement that ends the feud. After spending one more night in their new town to celebrate with the new mad-men of Hart's Rest, Gavriil heads back to Concord to report that all is now clear on the Stolen Front.
Amityville anyone?!?! No? We don't want the Leveton's house to get possessed by a demon? Ok! What about Hart's Rest? It pays homage to the fact that the trading post was used primarily by hunters initially, as well as a nod to us knocking off the Staglord. Plus it's a bit of a play on words representing Oleg and Svetlana's love.
Gavriil laughs at Grigori, "Otherwise you get exiled from this country at best, and executed for sedition at worst. You don't get it do you? You're really in no position to haggle like that. Yes, the longer we hold you the longer people will stew over you, but as soon as you're out of the picture people will start to forget. You don't get to be a martyr. Yes, people will remember and whisper about that poor fat man who spoke against the council and how it was awful what happened to him. And even that will be remembered by a few. Grigori of Nowhere Important will disappear from all of history." Gavriil starts for the door, "I tried to help you. I gave you an out and you spat in my face. And because of that you're fate is now solely in the hands of one royally pissed off fiery red-head. May the gods have mercy on your soul." Gavriil storms out of the cell and waves the guards back in. "Chain him and gag him again," he says in passing before heading towards the Privvy chambers to meet with the others.
Gavriil remains aloof during most of the hub-bub surrounding their new friend in Fairhaven. He just couldn't find himself to care about the man's silver tongue. The others were outraged and offended, the people were listening to the man, and the man... well he was just letting out hot gas daily. Maybe it was just Gavriil's hate of anything even remotely resembling work or maybe because he thought that some of what the man was saying rang true. At least when it came to him. Did he go off with Talia and the others to increase his purse? Yes! Why else would he risk his neck away from the safety of home? Did they become friends with a witch-woman? Well, Talia did, but she is technically an acquaintance to him. Did he not want to do work and allow the commoners to work to fill their pockets? All the gods in the heavens and bellow know he does, but he knows that'll never happen unless he could get Bokken to start pouring love potions into the ale taps. So during all of the privvy council's scheming and maneuvering, Gavriil does what he does best: Nothing. During dinner, he sits and eats with the others right up until Edric has his... "episode". When Edric turns to him for help, Gavriil empties his goblet of wine to buy himself some time before Talia leaves. After she storms out, Gavriil stands and says to Edric, "I believe that it's probably in our best interest to keep our mouths shout for now. Lest we fall under the ruling of sedition. Know this, though, friend: Talia knows what she's doing, whether bluffing or not. It's not in our best interest to confront her on this right now, but maybe we can find a way to persuade her without breaking the dinning hall in front of our guests and scaring the servants." With that, he leaves the castle all together and heads for the tavern. Once there, he pulls his lute out and starts to play bawdy tavern songs and drinking with the usual suspects at the bar. Several times he has the bartender open the casks to everyone in the tavern and lets the ale flow on for everyone. He doesn't speak about the fat man and if the topic comes up, he quickly changes the topic with a new song or a lewd joke. That is, until Vosil comes downstairs and starts waving a scroll around, showing it to everyone that'll look at it. He glances at the paper and announces to everyone in ear shot, [b]"Disn't good forda fat man. If I were'im I'd be taking a quick jaunt to the nex'town!" and lets out a drunken guffaw. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Next Morning Gavriil wakes up face down in the hay in the stables for the tavern. He swears under his breath as he tries to identify whether the brown smear down the front of his jerkin was mud or manure. A quick sniff brings on more swearing as the latter is confirmed. He removes his soiled shirt and tosses it in the water trough before heading back to the castle. Along the way, he is stopped by Rachel and buys a pie from her with a wink and a smile... and 5cp. Apparently his charms weren't as good as he thought when he smelled like a horse's rear-end. Once back at the castle, he moves to his chambers, shoveling pie in his face the whole way there to get changed and a quick bath to wash away the stink. He purposely changes into the gaudy royal purple and gold outfit that he had picked up from the elven keep and checks himself in the mirror before heading out the door. He heads through the hallways, nodding to guards and smirking at maids, all while still shoveling pie into his mouth. He descends down to the holding cells just in time to hear the discourse between their prisoner and Talia. He looks at one of the guards and whispers, "Is she busy? She sounds like she's busy... It's ok, I'll wait" He continues to eat his pie as Talia talks with the man, smiling at the guards with teeth blue from the blueberries in the pie. Finally, Talia emerges after her dramatic flair and smirks at the guards. He returns her smirk and raises an eyebrow at her, "I can hear him crying out in the town square 'Your leaders are weak! I know! They told me!" He nods to the viscountess and walks to one of the guards, slipping the key-ring off of his belt, "I need these for a moment. I need to talk with our guest privately and I'd prefer not to have to look down at him the whole time. Don't worry, I'm armed. You two can wait just outside of the jailing area. Tal... I mean, Viscountess, you may join me if you like, but I'd request you play along if you do. At least until we get out of here, then you can make up your mind on what you want to do." With that, Gavriil steps through the cell door and locks it behind him... He looks at the fat man and smiles, "Gregori from Nowhere Important! I've heard so much about you, but I don't think we've been properly introduced yet. I am Gavriil Niktosky, Grand Diplomat of Fairhaven and also the man you've been raving about out to the townsfolk." He pauses and moves to the man, fumbling with the keys until he produces the right one and unshackles the man. He places one small piece of pie, barely able to be called a slice, before the man and says, "This was one of Rachel's finest pies. I'm sure you'll enjoy it." He moves back away to the other side of the cell and leans up against the wall, "I'm sure they've put you too it. I'm sure they've threatened you, maybe beat you, probably already made it abundantly clear that you're going to die. All the horrible things people do to try and get people to talk. I'm not going to do that, because I've been in your shoes before. I've been stuck in a cell awaiting higher powers to decide my fate and I know that the pain doesn't make you want to talk at all. "So I'm not going to stoop to their level. Quite the opposite, actually. I want you to live, and I want to give you a job, a slice of the pie so to speak," Gavriil smirks at his own little joke. "I watched you talk the other day in the square, you out maneuvered both the viscountess and our general quite easily with that silver tongue of yours. You had the people eating out of the palm of your hand. It was impressive. And I don't want that impressive skill to go away. I want to put it to good use. I would like you to come work for me as a diplomat, no I daresay an ambassador for Fairhaven. It's simple, you'll come assist me in my duties until the point we set up an embassy. At that point you'll be Fairhaven's first ambassador. It's easy days for good pay. Can't say no to steady coin and no rope around your neck I always say. We found your scroll. We know you have been paid to undermine us so that silver tongue has a price. All we have to do now is negotiate what that price is. We want loyalty and information. You want to live and probably to keep making money. It seems pretty cut and dry to me." Gavriil smiles at the man again and says, "I don't know about you but I know I wouldn't want to become a martyr over a handful of coins."
Gavriil gives Edric a sideways look. "On second thought, Edric, you can direct your feelings towards Asha. I'm not sure if I'm the one to uhh... handle your hammer."
Gavriil looks down at the 'elven' woman plying her curse with her dying breath. He feels her magic wash over him and then disapate, before saying, "You won't be the first woman to curse me and probably won't be the last, darling." He turns to the others and says, "You all enjoying the show?"
Gavriil lowers his sword slightly as the "elven" woman began to gyrate her hips. His smirk fades from his face as he looks on with awe at how to woman moves like ripples on the surfaces of water. For a brief moment he is enraptured by her and forgets everything around him. But then he quickly realizes that he's staring at her in a way that would probably be frowned upon by the others. He quickly looks away to the others with a wolfish grin to play it off as nothing. As his eyes fall on the others, though, he realizes he wasn't the only one oogling their hostess. He could almost see a bit of drool coming out the corner of Talia's mouth. Right, and I'm the one that has a weakness for women... He realizes that there was something... magical about the way the woman is moving and smiles at her. He takes a step toward her and says, "Mistress, you move like no woman I've seen before, but..." he snaps up his rapier and plunges it toward her chest, "I've seen better!"
Ok, folks! Finals are over and I'm finally gradumataded so things are finally slowing down for me. I just got off work and its really late so I'm probably not going to post tonight, but I'll go through everything in the morning and get a post up then!
Gavriil lets out a harumpf as Dregan spots the trap that he was about to just walk into. Maybe the old man was right, but he sure as the nine hells wasn't going to admit it to him. He lets out a sigh and begrudgingly says, "Well, good job, Dregan. Can you like use your trapping skills to disable it? Nara? Do you have some magical mumbo-jumbo that could help?
Gavriil gives a half-hearted smile to Bokken when the old half-crazed potion maker offered to make them a potion and gave them a look. Oh, if you only knew, old man, he thinks while slowly shaking his head "no". He opens his mouth to speak but the words catch on his tongue. For a man so quick with words so often, it's a lesson to be learned. Or not, since learning is usually the last thing Gavriil likes to do, even from his own mistakes and experiences. Luckily, Talia intercedes and speaks for all of them. Gavriil guesses that's what made her viscountess, the ability to give voice even when words from others fail. At her gesture towards the body, Gavriil slides off his horse and pulls the body down off his horse into his arms. He carries the body over to Bokken and gently lays it on the ground, fixing the locket that was fashioned around the body's neck so that it rested on the body's chest for inspection by Bokken.
Gavriil spends the evening cursing the gods some more in his head as he sits as close to the fire as possible trying to get dry. Once he is dry again and warmed from the whiskey, he breaks out his lute and plays a soft song compared to the rancorous tavern songs he normally played, allows the others to just enjoy the music, talk quietly among themselves, and drink the whiskey he provides. He often interrupts his playing to drink more and to smile and joke with his compatriots in an attempt to lighten their moods. Once the evening dies down and the others go to sleep, Gavriil stays up, unable to sleep with the crash of thunder and lightning and the storm clouds raging in his own head. That madman, though he attacked them, still stalked his mind. That was only the second man he has ever killed and possibly a brother to a man they knew. His mind wanders to thoughts of his own younger brother and though the snot-nosed brat was annoying at times, he was still family. Gavriil can't fathom a world were his younger wasn't alive, let alone slain by a group of adventurers. He suddenly sits up from his "sleeping" spot and rummages through his bag until he finds his inkwell, quill, and several pages of parchment that he was only supposed to write out official documents on. While not technically official, it was his job to reach out to people on behalf of his new home. He quickly writes out a letter to his mother by the light of the dying coals pleading to her to gather his younger half-brother and to leave the awful man she had married out of necessity. He explained that he could take care of them in Concord and that they would never want for anything ever again. Satisfied with the letter, he rolls it up and places it back in his bag before laying back down to sleep. With his mind at ease, he slowly drifts to sleep to the sound of the rain. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - The next morning Gavriil awakes last and quickly complains about his sore back from sleeping on the ground. Seeing the others awake and yawns and says, "Back to the city then? Then perhaps up to Bokken with the body? After that we could continue on with our exploration down here."
Gavriil takes his old spare cloak out of his bag and wraps the madman in it as a makeshift burial shroud. As Dregan and Edric tend to the horses, he drags the madman and his cat out of the hollow and away from where they'd be staying. If it where he in the same situation he would want the body too and not just the locket. He returns to the room to find Talia looking despondent. He removes his cloak and drapes it around her shoulders and pulls his bottle of Oldlaw whiskey out and a few pewter cups. He silently pours two cups and hands one to Talia. He knocks back his own tumbler and says, "It's never easy to take a life, but he left us no choice. He attacked the viscountess for no reason. Think what he would do to anyone from our fledgling kingdom. We did the right thing here. I know it's no comfort, but that's what the whiskey and the company of friends is for."
Gavriil rolls his eyes behind his Baroness's back. Just one little mention of plays and she's off to the races about this writer or that. At this point Gavriil was suprised that she hadn't tried to make a play that everyone in the barony had to take part of. He chuckles and says, "Hey! That's a play I know! That was a good one!" He hops on his horse alongside Talia and continues, "And you could maybe learn a thing or two from him. I had a... well, let's just call her a friend way back before I ended up here with you lot. She was a lot like you, Talia. Artist type. And she always would go on and on about the most boring shows that she wanted to go to with me. She said she didn't want to go see a bawdy show or a funny show because they didn't make her feel. She wouldn't be satisfied unless the show ripped her heart out and made her cry. Something she never understood, though, was that most people didn't want that out of a show. Yes, I guess it would be nice for all of that culture and people going through pain every once in a while, but most people that go to the theater just want to be entertained. They get enough of the dreary in their day to day lives, that when they pay to go see a show sometimes they just want to laugh and feel good, just for a bit." He stops and sadly says, "Plus she didn't think History of Golorian Part I was funny at all, so I knew she had to be a little unhinged."
Whoops! Already said it!
Gavriil relaxes as the dryad tells them that there is no immediate danger. He listens intently as she explains about the scythe tree and their failure to defeat it. When she gives her final plea, he thinks with a snicker, Anything, huh? Then his jaw nearly drops to the ground as Talia tells him to tell the dryad the deal. How could Talia possibly be thinking the exact same thing he was thinking and be forward enough in front of the rest of the council to tell him to sugge-- Oh! OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!! She's talking about the stupid trees! He composes himself quickly and says, "Melainse asked if you could gift her some coachwood trees. There was an accident with a lumber-crew and her grove is in a bit of disrepair." He moves to his horse and saddles up, "Edric's right, we need to go chop down this tree quickly. It's not like we've ever actually had a plan before. Besides, I'm sure Naralesh can summon up some fire elementals and you still have the alchemists fire, Talia, and Dregan has his axe. That all should be plenty to mulch a tree."
Gavriil clears his throat before speaking up, "Well, neither has conceded their side of the story to us, but I think I have a solution to our problem. If I remember right, there's a copse of these trees up near where we slew the tatzylwyrms. Corax and his men could go there. Since the beasts are dead they shouldn't have any problem chopping those trees down. And, if she's not too bored with us, I guess we could look into bringing Melianse some replacement trees from her dryad friend to repair the damage already done to her home. It seems the best course of action to me, so long as everyone agrees to it."
It took everything in me not to have Gav shout, "Help! See the violence inherent of the system! Help! I'm being repressed!" When Vosil used dazzling display on Dregan and I at the crone's house.
"And you lot! Don't you know better than to fight with strange women who dwell in ponds? " But if I went around saying I was Viceroy, just because some moistened bint lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!
Gavriil bites his lower lip as the nixie emerges from the water to show her full form. She was quite beautiful, just as described out of the fairy tales he loved as a child. He gives a quick sideways glance to Talia, closes his eyes and thinks, No, no, no! Not the time or the place. Maybe later... Then again, she did need help and women always loved a good hero... "No!" he says out loud without meaning it. He quickly collects himself and says with a charming smile, "Darling, you can drop the act. I know I'm alluring, but I've read enough fey tales in my time to know that falling for each other will end badly for at least one of us... Probably me. I'm already willing to help you, but you have to give me a little more to go on. Tell me exactly what happened and why the trees are yours. Oh, and please let the gentlemen with the axes go again. They aren't helping your case." He looks to Corax and says with a winning smile, "And don't worry, you'll get your turn to speak your piece. After she gives her side you can present your case."
He raises a finger and opens his mouth to say something to Talia as she rides in among them, then thinks better of it and shuts his mouth promptly. Apparently doing his job is not allowed anymore.
Gavriil watches as everyone else springs into action. Always so quick to get their hands dirty. Always so quick to jump into the mud that they've worked so hard to rise up out of. It wasn't that he was against helping the people and getting his hands dirty, but that he didn't see how he could be much help. He wasn't made to shove wagons out of rivers. His skills fell directly under the ale drinking, or womanizing categories, or maybe even a little under swindling. But feats of athleticism were never one of his strong suits. Heck, even his weapon of choice, the rapier, was more about finesse and taking the target out with precision rather than strong arming through armor. So when Vosil points him out to help, Gavriil grabs the reins out of the man's hands and says, "Funny, but I can't swim. I'll hold the pony's. You get in there and give them a hand. There's enough of you between us and the gnomes to get it moving and I'll just be in the way." He hands Vosil a length of rope and says, "Attach this to the wagon and maybe we can help pull it out from land while you push."
Gavriil wheels around on his heels after Dregan's blow-up. He shoots a dark look at both Dregan and Vosil for a moment. He snatches Dregan by the collar as the huntsman rushes past him with an arrow notched. He gives a flash of a smile back to Belledame followed by, "If you'll excuse us lackeys for a moment, we need a refresher on manners!" Turning once again to Dregan and Vosil, the smile is gone. He drags Dregan by the collar to Vosil and then harshly whispers, "I don't know what crawled in either of your boots this morning, but you need to get them out now. This is not the time, nor the place for this. Vosil, as much as I enjoy the humor of your silver tongue, I think it would be best if you bit it just this one time, lest Dregan here cuts it off with the knife I provide him. You should look to you training in thinking and maybe use it before you speak ill towards a fellow council member. "And you," he turns to Dregan, "need to calm down. I admit caution is probably best right now, but we are not going to burn a woman who has done nothing to us at the stake on the word of children's stories. There have been plenty of monsters we have met in these wilds that turned out to be friends. Need I remind you of Kaalib? Not every shadow hides a monster waiting to snatch you up and eat you." He lets out a long sigh and rubs at his eyes, "Now, I'm going to level with you both. I'm tired, I'm cold, and I have mud in places that no man should ever have to endure. I don't know about you two, but I want a warm place to sleep tonight. And if either one of you ruins the my chances of that, I swear to the gods that I will play the most gods awful songs and sing off key until your ears bleed and you'll be begging Talia to have you put to death. So, we proceed with caution, for we don't know much but rumors about this woman, but we remain civil. There is no need to strike out unless she gives us cause." With that he turns to walk the rest of the way to the hut alongside Edric. He leans over to the Paladin and whispers, "I'm leaving you in charge of them. If either one decides to open their mouths at the wrong time or tries to use the woman as a pincushion, you knock them upside the head with your hammer."
SHE TURNED ME INTO A NEWT!
Gavriil eyes Dregan skeptically. The aging woodsman always seemed to be the first to advise caution. It was a character trait that Gavriil despised and admired at the same time. On one hand, it felt like Dregan was a poor lone father picking up the pieces his children left behind as he amused them with their game of playing at princes and princesses. On the other hand, it made the man intolerably boring. It made the swashbuckler roll his eyes every time the man asked for them to proceed cautiously. It may have been that Gavriil was just used to being able to coast through life with a silver tongue and a charming smile, or that the thought of fame and fortune spurred him on to try and actually make something of himself. Or maybe he was just young and dumb. Whatever the reason, Gavriil rests his hand on the pommel of his sword as Vosil (the eldest son of their rag-tag family) rings the bell defiantly, not willing to openly heed the woodsman's warning, but just smart enough to allow some of Dregan's wisdom to raise his guard. He smirks at the others and whispers, "If she is wicked, I say we give her Nora. See if she's clever enough to outsmart that wicked animal."
1 Abadius 4708 Gavriil wakes earlier than usual. He wraps a blanket around himself and goes outside to watch the sun rise for the first time in a long time. As he sits on the wall watching the sun make it's first break over the land, he realizes that no ghosts had come to him in the night. No one had come for him seeking revenge or comfort. No one. He smiles at that thought. Through his life he had met and influenced many people and had been influenced by many more, for good or worse. But in the end he was always alone. At the end of the year he had no ghosts to haunt him because he was a nobody. No one cared one way or another about a bastard son. And that was perfectly okay with him. He smirked at a silent thought he had to himself. Just a simple childish thought that quickly blossomed into an idea in his mind and a large grin on his face. He laughs and whispers to no one but the sun peeking over the horizon, "Lord Gavriil Niktosky, Grand Diplomat, Scoundrel of the Greenbelt, and 'Son of No one'. Yes, that'll do perfect." 3 Abadius 4708 Gavriil rushes into the Privy Chambers and drags one of the large chairs across the stone floor to a spot right next to the fire, the chair letting out a screech in protest the whole way. He plops himself down in the chair and huddles around the fire, seemingly ignoring the other councilors. Finally, he turns a look to Asha and says, "Ok, I'll bite. Who pissed off the gods and how do we fix it, because I can't deal with this cold any longer."
Gavriil grins ear-to-ear as the Levetons have their joyful reunion with their ring. Well, Svtelana's ring, but Oleg did sneak in some semblance of being a human being rather than a statue in brief flickering moments. He gives Svetlana a rueful grin at her standing up to Talia and says, "Well, in that case fetch enough cups for everyone! I've got a bottle of whiskey that's been aging well in my travel sack that needs to be shared with everyone while we talk amongst ourselves about the other good news we have for you two." Once the cups have been brought out he pulls out the bottle and passes it around for it to be poured. After everyone has a glass of whiskey he raises his glass and says, "A toast! To Fairhaven! May it last a thousand years! To our Viscountess! May her wisdom grow to the same height as her beauty! To friends! Both around this table and in our hearts! And to Oleg and Svetlana! May we all find the love as pure as the pearl of her ring as they have!" He knocks back his glass of whiskey and quickly pours himself another before continuing, "Now! As much as I love the nostalgia of living off the land coming back here gives me, we aren't solely here for pleasure. We have somewhat of a business proposal for the two of you. After recent events, we have come to find ourselves without a treasurer. We the council, and the viscountess herself, have decided that our country cannot leave the position empty. As such, we would like to invite you to come to Concord and stay with us. We would also like your skills in mercantile, Oleg. We would like to appoint you Treasurer."
Gavriil grins as Edric and Vosil spur their horses onward. He spurs his horse onward after them and says to it over the wind, "I don't like you, and you don't like me. But we really can't let them beat us. You'll be the laughing stock of the stables if they do!"
Gavriil spurs his horse on, and even though the others had a head start, he quickly catches up and passes both Edric and Vosil. He yells back over his shoulder, "I'll try to save some radish stew for the rest of you when you get there! EVENTUALLY!"
Gavriil grins at Edric, "Nonsense! You do have something! And you make a good point. They may not even want the job. But I have a feeling that poor, poor Svetlana may be fed up with living in the middle of nowhere. Even though Oleg may put up a tough front, we all know that he'll do whatever she wants. Heck, he sent five very inexperienced people out into the woods and nearly to their doom just to get her ring back! That man will do anything to make his lady-love happy." He yawns and sits down near the mouth of the cave, suddenly very tired from all of the days events. He slips his lute out of its case and strums it lazily, just liking the feeling of having it in his hands again. It seems a nightly ritual for him at this point. Even if he doesn't play anything at all he still enjoys at least letting the notes fly into the air. And what better place to release the muse than when surrounded by friends. As he tunes the lute, he smirks at Talia and says with a wink, "Maybe some poor young kobold caught the love bug for a koboldess and wanted to impress her. In fact, I think I have a song for that. He probably felt a little like this..." He turns a knob on the neck of his lute one last time before he begins strumming and singing, "Ain't no Sarenrae when she's gone... Only Pharasma every day..."
Gavriil watches in silence as Kaalib emerged from the cave and told them how it was going to be. How many had they lost along this journey into the Stolen Lands? Maybe that was the true reason they were called the Stolen Lands. They weren't lands that were stolen from one king or another, but lands that stole something from the people in them. They took friends and family from those who inhabit them. Though it was a somber moment, Gavriil couldn't help but feel proud for their friend. Even though he was leaving them and things had not gone how any of them had wanted, Kaalib had risen up to the challenge. He had become a king to his people and could help them survive way better than any of them could. He could make them stronger and maybe, someday, even live in peace alongside the other races. Once the Kobolds had left, Gavriil turns to the others. He smirks at Dregan's worry over returning the money to their rightful owners. Well, since there's really know way of knowing, I guess we'll just have to donate it to our own funds. he thinks with a glint in his eyes. Weary from the emotional cart-ride they had gone on that day, Gavriil speaks up, "If I may make a suggestion? We've had a long couple of days and I think work is really starting to put us at our wit's end. I suggest we rest here for tonight, maybe even use just the mouth of the cave for shelter. Then tomorrow we head to the Oleg's. That way we can return the ring, and if you all think it's a good idea, maybe offer him a treasurer position. Owning a business, he has to know a thing or two about money." He smirks, "Then, I think we need to all sit down to a bowl of Svetlana's radish soup and I'll open that bottle of Old Law whiskey I've been holding onto." He looks at Vosil, a hint of remorse in his eye, but his smirk does not faulter, "We need time to remember that we were friends before we were rulers of a country. And we need time to process all that has happened."
Gavriil scoffs, "The point, old man, Is not that the two events have everything in common with how the others acted, but entirely on how you reacted. The dwarves disagreed with you. You wanted them killed. The kobolds won't talk with you. You want them killed. Is this how we are going to deal with every person we deal with who disagrees with us? If that's the case then we traded one tyrant for another. We came here to establish a new rule under how we wanted to live. Maybe your dealing with the nobility in Brevory made your view a little too much like their own." He stops short when Talia speaks up again. Looking around, he realizes that he is on the losing side of the argument. He looks on in silence as Talia gives her decree to Kaalib. Her speech gives him time to cool down and comes to terms with the fact that while she was choosing to attack, it still pains her to make the call. Seeing that cools him down significantly. He looks at Talia and the rest, including Vosil, "I'm sorry if my advisement caused problems. That wasn't the point of all of it. I didn't mean to attack anyone here or cause hardships. I only wanted to state that there is another way than violence. Whether my advice is heeded or not is up to you. Not to mention throwing up constantly for a while has kind of worn my temper thin. I'm... I'm sorry I got carried away with it.." He turns to Talia, "You have my blade to use how you will. Though if we are staying here tonight I suggest we keep the fire burning strong. They already know we're here and they can see in the dark. We can't." "I'll take whatever shift you all don't want."
Nah, you're good, Vosil! This is the best part of rp'ing! With everyone in the mix creating the story it gives a chance for conflict between characters, and it's a beautiful, beautiful thing when it does happen. So long as neither party takes things personally. You play out your character how he would act and we'll do the same. I think that's the best part of this AP. All our characters are trying to lead the country the way they think it needs lead. It's going to cause conflict through difference of opinions sometimes. It creates great character development. BUT! At the end of the day we just get to blame everything we screw up on Talia! So we're off the hook!
Gavriil wearily gets to his feet after recovering from the violent vomiting. He nods along with Vosil. Two attempts were made to enter the cave and both had them running away with their tails between their legs. If Kaalib was right that the kobolds only respected strength then they had lost that credibility long ago. Intimidation wasn't working, cutting the head off the snake wasn't working, and he couldn't think of a way to out sneak a bunch of bush-whackers. He lowers his head, "I have to agree with Vosil on this one. I'm about ready to say we just drown them in pitch and set the hole on fire." He grits his teeth, fighting off another wave of nausea, "However, let me say something really, and I mean really, stupid..." He looks at Talia, "You gave me the title of grand diplomat. With this title comes certain requirements. Requirements that I have to admit I've been lacking in this particular situation. I'm sorry. "I have to advise you against moving against the Kobolds any more. If we take a second to really think about all we've done here then I think we'll all agree that we're in the wrong. We sent a letter to a neighboring nation asking to have a meeting of our leaders. They countered with stupid demands that really matched what we were asking them to do: to send their leader alone into the other's territory. We refused the demands and instead of continuing to talk to them, we showed up at their doorstep and asked to be let in." He smirks, "Even the scoundrel of the greenbelt knows that that's pretty rude. "Then, when they didn't respond we called them names and then came into their home anyway. What did we expect? Of course they are going to put a stop to that! We would do the same if the Kobolds came to Fairhaven called us all bastards and then proceeded to come into our town uninvited. We got spanked hard and then what did we do? Ah yes, the exact same thing all over again. He lets out a long sigh, "So, as your grand diplomat, I would advise us to retreat, apologize, maybe give them a gift, and continue trying to talk to them." His usual smirk plasters itself across his face, "But as your friend I gotta say that one of those stupid lizards is paying for a new shirt!"
Gavriil keeps heaving as Naralesh rushes to join both he and Dregan in the vomit hole. In between heaves he pointedly looks at Talia. Once he finally gets the heaving to stop he wipes his chin and says, "Sorry, I guess we aren't as used to the air of nobi-" Again, his joke gets cut short as he doubles over heaving. Once finished he looks up, "Oh, never mind..."
Gavriil keeps his hand on his pommel as they move into the cave. Not far into the cave, though, he sees Edric start to fall into the floor. His feet scrambled to find purchase as his mind screamed out, No! No! Definitely not! He deftly steps back, straight into the others and topples over as Talia impedes his deft moves. He falls flat on his face. "Well, that could have been wor-" Click! The ground gives way beneath him and sends him tumbling down. He crashes into the ground, smacking his face off the not-so-soft dirt floor, making blood to start gushing from his nose. He starts to get up just as something else comes flying into the hole to also smash into his face. His nostrils are immediately assaulted by the scent of oil! His temper getting the better of his sense of danger he yells out, "THIS IS A NEW SHIRT YOU SON OF AN OVERGROWN NEWT!!!" Just as his little outrage finishes, something else smacks him in the back of the head, a length of rope. "Will people please stop throwing things at me!?" He grabs the rope and starts to climb just as Talia goes bounding over his head.
With much effort with his hands being slippery from blood and oil, Gavriil pulls himself out of the pit.
Magna's eyes light with fire brighter than her forge when she sees Edric take the blow from the beast in front of them. She grips her axe in her hands and charges towards the beast, bellowing at the top of her lungs, "YOU HAVE BEEN MEASURED, WEIGHED, AND HAVE BEEN FOUND WANTING IN TORAG'S EYES!!!" As she nears the beast she brings her axe around from the side to chop viciously into it's flank.
After the first dreaded day on the way back to Concord of dealing with one o the worst hangovers he'd ever encountered, Gavriil is back to his normal self. The second day is spent lazily sitting in the back of the wagon, trying to make out what shapes the clouds are and plucking the strings of his lute. Once back in Concord, he spends the next couple of days before the others arrive just looking around the town, getting to know the people of his new home, and generally avoiding anything that even resembles work. He has a pleasant enough time even though almost all the alcohol is gone from the town and the others didn't listen to him when he had suggested they build a brothel so very long ago. So, he passes the time in the evening playing his lute out in the middle of town for all to hear and enjoy.
Once the others arrive and Talia summons them all to the chamber, Gavriil goes to report. Report to Talia! Geesh! Who'd have thunk that she'd actually get the status that she wanted, he thinks as he strolls lazily towards the Privy Chambers. He chuckles softly to himself, Privy chambers... He enters the chambers and plops down in an empty seat and throws his feet up on the table. He gives a quick glance to Naralesh and Edric when Talia prompts them before saying, "Well, we've got good news and we've got bad news." He lets out a long dramatic sigh to allow the other's tension to arise, "The good news is we've gained the Brighthammers as allies. They've agreed to become a part of Fairhaven and mine the gold for us. It's in the best interest of both parties." "The bad news... gods how do I say this..." He looks thoughtfully out the window like he's searching for the words. Finally he turns back to the council with a forlorn look on his face and says, "The bad news is that the blasted dwarves drank almost all of the town's supply of ale! This town might as well be a desert with how dry it is now! It's a travesty!"
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