"So, any place in particular you would rather be?"
The voice, as well as the hand on Arradir's shoulder, belong to the half-elf, Vaenathis. "Tell me and I can get you there. And then I will follow as quickly as I can, yes?"
Search Posts
"Well, no reason to get my clothes too dirty, I suppose," Vaenathis mutters with a half-smile as he looks at Yngvild for a moment in case she has any difficulty climbing. As soon as he is certain she faces no particular challenge he summons his magic, the air around him distorting as he vanishes and in an instant appears on the balcony.
With the monstrous creature dead, Vaenathis directs his sword to a different target, sending it flying like a spear towards one of the arcane symbols.
With Arradir down, Vaenathis tries to stay focused on the fight itself as he repositions his sword and moves it to flank the beast with Yngvild before -unsuccessfully- attacking once again.
"I so understand your frustration, friend Rodok," Vaen says with a sigh as his own attack misses once again.
"The symbols! Destroy them and the protective magic will fail," Vaenathis calls out to the others, at the same time using his greatsword to attack the beast once again.
Staying away from the beast's reach, at least for now, Vaenathis' hands move as he directs the conjured greatsword to flank their monstrous foe and strike. "There is some magic protecting that woman," he calls out, noticing arcane symbols on the beams of the balconies. "At least I think that is what it does..."
"In all fairness, your husband and retainers did attack us first," Vaenathis replies calmly, even though he knows trying to reason with the woman is quite possibly pointless. "And from what we have learnt about you and yours so far, you are hardly innocent yourself."
"Why do I feel she is not quite the nurturing kind?" The quip comes easily despite the darkness and the sense of foreboding it brings. At the same time Vaenathis attempts to call his greatsword into being. He is not in any particular hurry to use it against the woman to whom the voice belongs, but he expects he may very well have to in the immediate future.
"Well, that was significantly faster than our previous fight," the half-elf quips with a smirk. "I did not even get the chance to do anything," he adds with a look of mock disappointment as he then turns his attention -and curiosity- to the bull and how the large animal is going to be teleported down the stairs.
Taking advantage of the opening the enemies give him as they try to rise from the floor, Vaen brings his large sword down on one of them, almost splitting him in twain from his left collar bone to his right hip.
"Hmph," the half-elf mutters in an annoyed voice as his levitating sword once again misses its target. "It would seem I need more practice..."
With fighting no longer simply inevitable but actually upon them, Vaenathis sighs as once again a two-handed sword, the same as before but clean and bloodless, emerges out of a distortion in the air and quickly proceeds to attack anyone still standing after Rodok's spell on its own. "Well, here we go again," he mutters softly, almost disapprovingly, as he takes care to keep himself away from the advancing guards.
"Careful now," Vaenathis warns the others softly. "There are guards or some such up ahead. I can hear armor and weapons. I do not think a fight can be avoided, so ready yourselves."
Schandra's attempt at trying to make the girl feel a little less frightened brings a smile to Vaen's face as he moves along with the rest of them. Still, he only affords the interaction a brief glance, preferring to keep his eyes and focus on the passageway stretching before them. "Do you see anything?"
"A trap then," Vaenathis mutters as he takes advantage of the older dwarf's offer of healing. "And for such a... distasteful purpose," he adds with a roll of his eyes. He then turns to the others. "What of the kidnapped girls then?"
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: Seeing as how Schandra can teleport on her own, Vaen moves to place a hand on Rodok's shoulder. "Come, my short and stout friend," he quips with a smile as he summons his magic. "I do believe we have overstayed our welcome in this particular room at least." Once more there is a distortion and in the blink of an eye the dwarf finds himself on the other side of the fire and alongside Kresh and his bull as air rushes in to fill the vacuum left in his place where he previously stood. A moment later the half-elf joins them, a crooked smile on his face as he turns to look at the ifrit.
"Coming, m'lady?"
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: Perhaps it is because of the blows he was just dealt, but Vaenathis' concentration falters for a moment. Whatever the reason, his strike this time is not as true as the last one.
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: Vaen simply sighs, disappointed by the turn of events, no matter how expected he must admit it is. "You know, we did try to avoid all this," he says with a shake of his head as he concentrates for a moment. The reason becomes quickly apparent as the air behind one of the guards shimmers and warps and a masterfully crafted greatsword comes into being, emerging from that distortion.
"Perhaps next time I will be striking first and talking afterwards," he mutters as the large blade attacks one of the men as if it has a mind of its own.
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra:
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: "Are not the cold outside and the age of our friend here good enough reasons?" The half-elf tries one last time to stick to their story, a smile and a friendly expression on his face, perhaps with a hint of an apology for all the fuss. Still, it is also an attempt to buy some time because, truth be told, a fight seems inevitable. Not that he looks forward to it, but if it is to come to that... well, a weapon is only a thought away.
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: "I can help with the magic part," Vaenathis offers. "It would cut the time we need to move in half. But if we are going to do it this way, then we may as well begin, yes?"
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: "Not too much of a sneak myself, no," Vaen shares with a shrug. [/b]"A bit fast on my feet and I can travel short distances thanks to a magic trick or two, but that is it stealth-wise."[/b] He sighs and a smile appears on his face. "It does feel like a bit of a shame to have gone to the trouble of bluffing our way in only to try a more direct approach as soon as we have done so, but I am not sure we have another option. Nevertheless, we should perhaps try talking before resorting to the whole cracking of heads and kicking of posteriors thing."
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: Suppressing a smile at Kresh's performance, Vaenathis does his best to appear feeling too cold for his liking. Hardly a difficult thing mind you, given the weather. "You have nothing to fear from us," he says simply and with a warm smile, extending his hands to show he is unarmed. Then he takes a look at the guards' polearms, making it a point to swallow a little hard in an attempt to convey his unfamiliarity with weapons and perhaps his trepidation of them.
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: "By all means then, my... sick old friend," Vaenathis quips with a smile as he addresses the older of the two dwarves, "the stage, as they say, is yours. Let us knock and find out then." The half-elf takes a step forward, taking care to still allow Kresh to take the initiative but staying close enough to intervene if things get complicated.
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: "I am Vaenathis, though most people call me Vaen," the half-elf introduces himself after listen intently to the conversation and the information shared. "Simpler and shorter I suppose, although not quite as colorful as your nickname," he adds with a crooked smile.
"I have to admit, this is a curious situation," he comments conversationally. "Are you certain your nieces did not go willingly? Although a curse does make such a thing unlikely, I have to ask nevertheless. As you said, they have little magic to speak of and no wealth or land. That leaves little reason for them to be taken." he pauses, then adds, his expression growing a little darker, "Not that other unpleasant reasons do not exist..."
DM-Salsa, Kresh, Rodok and Schandra: The half-elven man takes the hooded one up on his offer, taking a seat and at the same time trying to see if he can discern anything more about the other man's features. Not that successfully, he has to admit.
"Are you offering us... a job?" He sounds at least a little bit incredulous. "You do not really know us, yes? I do not really know us." He smiles and shrugs. "For all you know, I am just a guy who pays his way out of trouble...," he adds, referring to the way he attempted to defuse the situation earlier.
The half-elf raises an eyebrow at the serving girl's message. 'Curious,' he ponders briefly before finishing his meal and rising from his seat. Hardly a difficult decision truth be told; the last few days were uneventful, which by itself is not really a bad thing, but it is a tedious thing. And the silver-haired man does find boredom not much to his liking. "My my my," he mutters to himself as soon as he reaches the room and sees the old dwarf and the red-haired woman already there. "Well met."
"The old dwarf is right." The voice, soft and calm, is coming from a fair-skinned and silver-haired half-elf, apparently unarmed and unarmored, sitting at a nearby table and enjoying a meal. Well, enjoying until this moment at least. "Now, perhaps I would have put it a bit more eloquently, but still, his reasoning is sound. An honest mistake. No reason to... escalate things. No reason at all." He does not appear to bother getting up, although he has stopped eating and instead his attention is on the unfolding scene. He does turn to the young girl though, offering her a warm smile and a wink. "How about this? How about I pay for your drinks and the cleaning of your fine clothes? And we can put all this behind us. Yes?"
Heeding Evelyn's call, Vaenathis moves back in an attempt to exit the area of darkness, trying as best as he can to avoid any incoming blows through hearing mostly. Mechanics:
Heeding Juliet's call to him, or at the very least intending to, Vaenathis moves quickly, his curved blade coming down pm the blue-skinned humanoid as soon as he is close enough to attack. Mechanics:
"Irregular-shaped? That sounds a bit odd," Vaen quips, thinking on it. "Goblins perhaps? They are not exactly known for their symmetry of form."
Squeezing through the rest of his friends and drawing his curved sword as he does so (making sure he does not give anyone a particularly close shave), Vaenathis brings his blade down on the closest walking skeleton. Mechanics:
"Oh, something is here," Vaen interjects, "or, rather, something was." Crouching down for a moment he points to two sets of tracks heading away, one belonging to a man and the other to the wheelbarrow he appears to have been pushing along. "The wheelbarrow tracks are deep, so I am guessing it is not empty." The half-elf stands back up and starts following the trail. "Coming?" Mechanics:
"I am surprised you did not recognize the man," Vaen whispers as an aside to Juliet after Kroft has mentioned the name of the silver-haired man. "Vencarlo Orisini? The fencing master of Old Korvosa? Despite not having a title, he hails from an old and repected family, a fact that has probably provided him with some protection given how many nobles he must have annoyed over the years with his talk of liberty and freedom." He shrugs. "Even though you did not recognize him however, he seems to find you familiar. Or rather not you, but that slender sword of yours." Having said his piece to the swordswoman, Vaenathis once again directs his attention to the matter at hand. "No rest for us... deputy heroes then," he quips, using Juliet's preferred title of sorts. "But then who needs rest when the cause is just and sprinkled with coins, yes?" Mechanics:
OOC:
__________________
Vaenathis sighs, but it is not like what Key is saying is unreasonable. Well, given her circumstances anyway. So the half-elven rogue relents. "Very well, Key," he says softly, forcing a smile to appear. "I can certainly not deny your... fineness," he manages to quip after her little twirl. "So aye, the Conversation, as you put it, is concluded." He winks, taking a sip of coffee and raising his cup in mock salute, acknowledging his defeat so to speak. "For now."
__________________
Vaenathis stays silent for some time, simply sipping his coffee. Finally, he speaks. And he is uncharacteristically serious while doing so. "What was that, Key? I know you said no questions, but...," he begins, pausing, trying to find the words. "You may not answer me, but whatever that was, it should not happen again. You should not do it again Kieyanna." A rare occurence for him to use her full name. "I am not saying you should stop doing what you do in general. What you do for a living, it is your choice, and I am all about choice. But this particular... facet of it? It hurt you." He clears his throat and sips on his coffee again. "And it may hurt you yet again. It will."
__________________
"I..." It is the only word, the only sound Vaenathis finds himself able to utter as Key takes her leave. The half-elven rogue at her with regret. He should have done something to stop her, to change her mind, he knows that now. But she seemed to know what she was doing, she always does. But perhaps this time she did not. He takes a deep breath and sits down outside her place, his back against her door. He failed her. He did nothing. He can at least wait for her to wake up. And none will disturb her. Employer, escort, client or otherwise.
__________________
Taking the alchemical concoction, Vaenathis smiles and sniffs it, wrinkling his own nose at the smell before drinking it in one quick gulp. "They should start putting some sort of flavor in this," he remarks as a look of distaste appears and then just as quickly disappears. "Perhaps strawberry." As Kieyanna elaborates on the favour, the half-elf does not speak, listening carefully and thinking on it. Not out of any hesisation -this is Key who is asking, so of course the answer would be yes- but because of her conditions, and not so much the first -discretion is a given considering her line of work- but raher the second. Still, she sounds truthful enough, so, just as he is told, he asks no questions. Not regarding the client and their... preferences anyway. "Very well, dear damsel," he finally says with a mock bow and a genuine smile. "I have a condition of my own though. At the very moment you decide you need my... assistance, by all means, do not be shy. Ask for it. Preferably in a very loud voice." "Do that and I will see to it that no lectures are forthcoming. Just as you asked."
__________________
"Ah, Key," Vaen calls out into the shadows with a weary sigh, "your timing could use a bit of work." He chuckles softly then and shakes his head. However tired he is, the half-elven woman does tend to brighten his mood whenever they meet. "And what would the favour entail, pray tell?" His choice of words is a bit theatrical, but hardly surprising. As already mentioned, Key does wonders for his mood.
"Perhaps leniency could be shown to the two guardsmen? Death in battle and murder are two different things, certainly," Vaenathis remarks once he hears the news about Vancaskerkin's demise, "but these are difficult times and you could use all the able-bodied men and women you have. What is it lawyers call it? Mitigating circumstances?" He shrugs. "I do not know about you, but betrayal and turning to a life of crime and killing people for a living can certainly rub those more law-abiding than he the wrong way. Especially when they used to fight and bleed beside him only to have him abandon them in a way."
Holding his stomach and fighting back a wave of nausea or two, Vaen joins the rest of them, his eyes brightening up as he sees the loot they manage to uncover. "Oh my," he quips, unable to stop the smile that appears on his lips. "Not sure how much those are worth," he adds, pointing at the various gems, "but I am willing to wager a bundle."
As a sense of weakness washes over him, Vaenathis takes a moment to glance at Juliet, noticing that the swordswoman is feeling the same thing. "Poison," he mutters as he swings at the creature in front of him again and again, unwilling this time to sacrifice accuracy for force. Mechanics:
|