"Really? How intriguing. These other skills must be quite something to catch the eye of someone like Panivar," Velvet responds over the rim of her teacup. And it was genuine, this part at least. Was the Baroness more like her than she'd assumed?
"I do love dancing, there was that girl at the jubilee who danced so beautifully, I thought she would be here..."
"I'm sure she would have loved to perform for you. Alas, while she is absent, there is still her shop in the town. The dresses they sell there, I've been told they're quite special! The best in the nation, some say. And surely they'd be more than happy to offer you something of your liking in exchange for an endorsement from Duchess Lotheed herself! In fact, I was planning to go myself. I should probably check whether the carriage has arrived yet..."
She smoothly leaves her place, leaving the duchess with Lisa, the servants and what security staff was in place and approached Marius. "Dear Marius, it appears as though our guest, despite her unlife, believes she is the Real Duchess, and appears to be lacking some finer knowledge of her life and the outside world," She says, pleasantly amused. "In fact, she is terribly bored, and wants nothing more than to feel alive again, whether that is by being seduced by someone younger - or perhaps other means. Her intentions seem more selfish rather than malicious. Which leads me to think that there might still be some use of her to us. What do you think? Perhaps we could convince it to help us catch a notorious criminal out for all nobles? Few things would be more exciting, no? And for the Night Swan, few targets would be more tempting than the wife of the Duke himself." She grins.
One eyebrow creeps up as Marius considers Miss Arlandt and her audacious plan. "That...is certainly an intriguing idea. And I'd say it might even work--if you can persuade her to follow through. She would be far from the first, noble or otherwise, to believe a little danger might liven up her life...only to regret it thoroughly. It's a tough sell, Miss Arlandt, are you up to it?"
Rose would be, the thought rises unbidden, and he tries not to let it show on his face--or wonder how she was faring, on her mysterious mission.
It is Lotti's turn to raise an eyebrow as the two young folks muse out loud. "A... fascinating idea," she finally says, crossing her arms. "I assume you'll be keeping a close eye on her then, yes? I'd hate for any secret she has witnessed to spread even more widely than it already has. And of course there's the delicate matter of advertising her presence here broadly enough to catch the Swan's attention without reaching the Bartleby's ear. What approach were you planning to take there? And what precautions can we afford to make in case this whole endeavor goes sideways."
She pauses for a deep breath, then continues with a nod to Valery. "Lastly, as you brought up before we realized we had an unexpected guest, we are working to oust Bartleby from his position. What is the balance of risk to benefit in relation to that goal with this diversion? What resources would be required to mitigate those risks, and how would their reallocation - or a possible delay - affect our chances of success with said goal?" Her tone is soft - to avoid attention, but also to soften the harshness of her words. Her expression is curious rather than judgmental, alternating between the two taller people.
"It's a tough sell, Miss Arlandt, are you up to it?"
Velvet chuckles at the question. "Would I have suggested it if I weren't? Please Ma-... Lord Erallan. Give me some credit. I've talked people into much less senseble things. You could say it's a family trait, even." Clearly there was a deeper level of amusement to that statement. "Everyone craves something. Power, money, food, safety, sex, thrills... it's only natural. One of the few things commoner and noble alike have in common. The problems begin when persued from a position of dissatisfaction. Ah, such a tragedy. To be one of the most wealthy and powerful women in the Country yet find everything boring . She's probably experienced just about everything life has to offer, the poor woman." She spreads her hands in a helpless gesture. "I'd feel guilty taking advantage... but why overcomplicate things?"
"I assume you'll be keeping a close eye on her then, yes? I'd hate for any secret she has witnessed to spread even more widely than it already has. (...) What is the balance of risk to benefit in relation to that goal with this diversion? What resources would be required to mitigate those risks, and how would their reallocation - or a possible delay - affect our chances of success with said goal?" "
"...Interesting. You sound highly experienced in running a business -or perhaps an organisation- Miss Qeb. And here I thought you were a simple servant?" A seemingly careful appraisal turns into a slight smile. "Or have you been spending too much time with Rose? That talk, it reminds me of her, back when she still tried to impress her father. Would you perhaps like to work for me when this is over? Do you not want more than to be a servant forever, when you can obviously be more? Or no - when you are more?"
There is a moment of silence as the offer stretches. "...But as much as I love Rose, she has a tendency to grossly overthink things, as I'm sure you've noticed." She eventually continues, rather dryly. "This plan doesn't have to be complicated. We will act on everything we know and suspect : That the Night Swan REALLY hates nobles, that she called you all out personally, that she may very well have an agent in the town or household to rapidly keep her informed of developments such as when Rose left, and that Marius is so popular that it turns any opportunity to strike at his image even more irresistable."
As she says it and counts the points on her long fingers, she pointedly glances along the paintings nearby. "This is what we'll do. The Night Swan has to believe this is a golden opportunity to strike at a weak target, with a very narrow window of time. That greatly limits her options to study the situation. Assuming Rose is correct on The Night Swan's identity, Lucrecia hasn't been seen in public the last three months. So she probably isn't at the palace of Birdsong either, meaning she cannot instantly verify the Duchess is still there. Even if she could, who knows what the wife of one of the most powerful mages in the realm is capable of doing? It fits her profile of having romantically chased Lisa earlier - who is now here. So we'll do a bit of theatre, say a very public walk around the town, and then the mansion, where the Duchess makes a rather vocal point being displeased with Marius' hospitality, insisting she will take leave of him the very next day and refusing even an escort. Just enough time for word to reach the Night Swan and have her plan her attack somewhere along the projected route."
"From there, some of us, along with select members of the security staff, can hide in or on the carriage with the Duchess when she gets in. Those are arguably more risky positions, but whomever cannot hide well for our counter-ambush would be best placed there. Meanwhile, the others - Marius and I at least, probably- can coverly follow it along the tree line until it is time to strike the thieves."
"Of course, it is not guaranteed to work. But it is a plan that just might and take away The Night Swan's element of surprise from her. And even if it fails, it does not cost us anything. All that really matters is that the fake Duchess does not make it to Lotheedar to spread word of our plans, which we will then have ample opportunity to on the way. I am not an assassin - I'm much more of a 'get invited, then knock out and tie them in the closet' type of girl, among others, but this... 'thing' isn't a real person, and it's too dangerous to leave be. This is just me trying to make the best use of resources we have at our disposal. And from there, we make our way to Sotto, leaving Count Lotheed guessing as to our wherabouts."
She takes a deep breath and dons her pleasant smile. "So? What say you?"
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Frowning and scratching his chin as he mulls over the plan, Marius eventually shrugs. "It has a lot of failure points, and is based on a great deal of conjecture, but I don't think the things we don't know will actually matter if it comes to a confrontation with the Night Swan. I'm not entirely comfortable treating the trompe as an un-person either, but that's a different conversation. I think the plan is worth a try." He turns and gives Lotti and inquiring look.
+ + + + +
With the curse on Araig broken the worst tangle of Meratt County's gordian knot has been unraveled, but the slow and difficult work of rebuilding still remains. Marius gently assists Baron Telus in writing a decree pronouncing the curse ended and that Jambis is now free to be returned to. He also makes several of his agents available to the Baron to assist with clearing out some of the monstrous spiders that didn't wander off on their own.
He also pens a second letter intended directly for the Four Hoods to delivered along with a pouch of 200gp--the letter informs them that the Beggarwood is no longer necessary as a refugee camp thanks to the restoration of Jambis, and offers the coin as a goodwill gesture to help the Four Hoods on their way elsewhere. It also politely but firmly alludes to their occasional banditry and makes it clear that should the Four Hoods remain in the county and continue such habits, they would be universally considered outlaws and treated as such by the nobles of Meratt, Marius very much included.
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Over the following weeks, the inhabitants of Beggarwood and New Towne slosly trickle into Jambis - some of them eager to return to their old homes, others hoping to make a new start. The Four Hoods make themselves scarce, although it is difficult to tell if they have left the county or are still lurking somewhere.
The construct believing itself to be Duchess Lotheed finds Valery's suggestion intriguing, chuckling to herself. "Oh yes, I have heard of the Night Swan. My nephew and his marshal have been closeted for many a late night in his office discussing the matter - I believe he was seeking to use her initially, but then the foolish girl made an attempt on his life. It will be very satisfying for me to capture her where he failed."
"Do you not want more than to be a servant forever, when you can obviously be more? Or no - when you are more?"
Lotti smiles with polite noncommitment. Noble upbringing more likely? Uncertain. Possible overcorrection from struggle to be seen as equal or have value. Continued observation required.
"The most logical place for someone to hide would be in the carriage," she answers. "However, given that we do not know anything certain about the trompe's motives or behavior, being alone with it is also one of the most dangerous places we can put ourselves or our allies. So I will make my way there discreetly while you two stage the argument out front." She nods firmly, brooking no argument from either of the younger folk. "If something takes a turn for the worse, I'll slip out of the carriage and rendezvous with you on the road." She leaves unsaid her mental reminder to herself to coordinate a signal to the driver of the carriage to likewise abandon ship if the situation becomes dangerous.
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Duchess Veleto plays her part with gusto, taking a very public tour of Stachys, then making a scene in the main square as she acts out the part of the haughty and displeased noblewoman before announcing that she will return home that very evening.
A small snag in the plan appears when Aiza, Konstiantina's squire, fails to turn up for her training session that day, prompting the paladin to go search for the girl. "I will try to find you later. I trust your skills to keep you safe, and Aiza may have more need of me right now."
"I'm not entirely comfortable treating the trompe as an un-person either, but that's a different conversation."
"It is, and best to get that out of the way while we're at it. Personally I don't think we have much of a choice, Marius. Consider the alternatives. We can't let her go; she knows too much of our plans, plus it believes it is the Real Duchess. What if it tries to take her place? What would it do with the actual Duchess? Try to dispose of it? I don't think we need yet another assassination attempt on the Count's family, or any sort of other infiltration of the Palace, before we're ready. You could keep it as a guest, which risks the servants and our allies, or keep her captive - if we can, given her wallwalking feats - which costs manpower. On all fronts it is much easier and less risky to dispose of it before we lose control of the situation."
She adjusts the songbird pendant around ner neck and her gaze softens. "...It might not be a perfect solution, nor an easy choice. I'd understand if it goes against your morality even, despite it being an evil-aura'd construct. But making the best of things comes with the burden of leadership."
The redhaired woman frowns when Konstiantina informs them of Aiza's disappearance, and her consequent insistance to stay behind. "Truly? Is it unlike her to miss it? Do you need any sort of assistance?" She offers, knowing she wouldn't be able to herself with the enaction of the plan imminent.
Marius' eyes narrow at Arlandt. "People can be delusional, untrustworthy, even murderous and yet it doesn't make them any less people. I was in the Phalanx, Miss Arlandt, I'm no stranger to violence, including fatal violence. If it becomes necessary we can deal with her but this...objectification...leaves a sour taste in my mouth. We can recognize she's dangerous without reducing her to a thing."
Marius greets Konstiantina's report with a raised eyebrow but only mild concern--the girl was tough and resourceful but headstrong, and was like as not merely off purloining another mule. "Not like her at, she's desperate to impress Lady Mokei and become a knight herself. Very well, bring her home safely but please be careful. Goddess with you, Lady Mokei."
In turn, Valery doesn't flinch. "I am a security advisor, not a philosopher, Lord Erallan. If you wish to argue a construct has a gender, I am sure many would indulge you, but you yourself asked me *not* to engage in such debates when we met," She says, clearly not impressed. "That aside, your response worries me for two reasons. One, I am not hearing any actual solution to our problem. Two, I really hope these... protective feelings you have you seem to have for the evil construct you just met aren't going to be put before the success of our tasks here? If Count Lotheed hears any of what was discussed before we're ready, that only leaves a direct attack on the estate as an option. There will be *lots* of bloodshed when that happens. Why would you risk that? Don't tell me her flirting has gotten to you - Rose left just a week or two ago."
Her eyes narrow on the last part, a twinge of annoyance creeping into her re-hardened bearing.
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Again eager for an argument. Unwillingness to lose face? Possible. Marius is in agreement with course of action, so what is her objection actually to? Oh, those words do sound similar. Let’s clear that up.
“Miss Arlandt, perhaps you misunderstood Lord Erallan’s concern.” Lotti lets a cool tone weave through her words, hoping to keep the argument from growing further. “There is no objection to the proposed course of action. The word Lord Erallan used was ‘objectification’. We are not here to take it upon ourselves to determine who is and is not a person.”
She keeps her expression collected and authoritative even as her thoughts continue unspoken. Especially given the habit of the nobility to consider “lesser birth” to mean “not really a person”. And wasn’t she the one who was pushing for this distraction in the first place? If she really were so dedicated to infiltrating the palace, she would have suggested her just “knock ‘em out and tie them up in the closet” approach. Does she have something personal against the Night Swan? Perhaps Rose mentioned her and the idea caught her fancy. Oh veils, this isn’t her needing to prove herself again, is it?
Marius goes very still, expression impassive save for a tightening in his jaw and the angry flash in his eyes. He draws a breath to answer the insult but is cut off by Lotti's calm intervention. After a moment, he lets the breath back out.
"Just so, Lotti. Yes, the plan is sufficient. Please excuse me there are preparations to be made for our immanent falling-out with the Duchess." With a cold nod he exits, pausing only to drop a hand to Lotti's shoulder for just a moment, a silent thank you, and then he is gone from the room.
Preparations made, the carriage purportedly returning Duchess Veleto Lotheed to the Palace of Birdsong trundles leisurely on the road towards Lotheedar, the waxing moon gleaming off its polished surface. The curtains are drawn back, and the windows half-open, better to enjoy the warm night air - prominently displaying the fake duchess.
Velvet watches Marius go. It felt draining having to breech the subject of the trompe multiple times, met without alternate plans from her comrades before finally getting concrete consent to ending it - and apparently only grudingly. Why was this such a difficult topic for Marius? Was she pushing too hard? To treat a malevolent image from a canvas as a person and imply resistance to the risk of letting it go...
Excessive sense of morality or overly swift emotional attachment? Both? She sighed; this was all a mistake. They probably wouldn't be getting along very well, if ever. One more reason to quickly finish business here and leave to get back what was really important. Rose's priorities had clearly led to a series of erroneous impulse decisions and now it was up to her to fix them - as soon as this mess was done.
"...Right, thank you, Miss Qeb. We have work to do. I'll be in the garden practising archery until it is time."
As the carriage rolls along the road--now in better repair than it had been, at least closer to Stachys--Marius does his best to both keep alert and keep pace, though he cannot help but wonder if the Night Swan will even take the bait.
Valery hears a very slight rustling before a projectile whistles out of the darkness, hitting the carriage driver, who grunts in pain and doubles over. The horses' pace falters, but they do not stop. Seconds later, the sound of shattering glass and the bright whoosh of flames in the middle of the road causes the animals to rear up as the carriage clatters to a halt.
Baring his teeth in a grimace as the driver takes a bolt, Marius grimaces and crouches low, waiting for the huntress to reveal herself.
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Lotti almost breathes a sigh of relief at the sound the explosion outside the carriage, her nerves frayed from being trapped in an enclosed space with a strange construct that thinks itself a human for so many hours. “Excellent work, Your Grace,” she whispers to the “duchess”, choosing her next words carefully to goad her traveling companion into doing the opposite of what she was told. “Now stay here - we can’t risk your health with adventures and glory any more than we already have.” Without waiting for a reply, the smaller woman wraps herself in her familiar shawl of magic - hoping the screams of the horses outside would conceal her spellcasting - and disappears from sight.
Veils. Babs has been shot. Lotti pauses outside the carriage, one hand still holding onto the handle after closing the door behind her as discretely as possible. Her eyes dart to the ladder on the side of the carriage, then up to the driver’s seat. Uncomfortable, but possible. If they can hold out long enough for me to climb that, the emergency potion might keep them alive. Hang in there kiddo. An invisible hand pats an equally-invisible pocket where a small bottle hides.
Velvet stiffens, tracing the line of the shot to the trees along the side road. The bait had worked - that was the good news. Now to deal with the Night Swan.
She gestures Marius towards her presumed location, then makes a circling motion with her hand. Unless stopped, she drinks her potion of Invisibility as she begins approaching said location, crossbow at the ready, either alongside Marius or to flank them with Marius.
"Nonsense," replies Duchess Veleto, not bothering to whisper. "You'll never draw her out like this." Gathering her voluminous skirts, the trompe l'oeil steps out of the carriage on the north side, walking around the back of it to make herself at least partially visible from the other side of the road.
Lisa climbs out as well, although she remains shielded by the carriage, waiting for the Night Swan to show herself.
A huge shadow zips across the road and envelops the duchess, who lets out a sound of surprise and pain. The Night Swan is still nowhere in sight, and now her target is obscured as well.
Lotti leaves the not-swan and the not-painting to her companions, trusting at least that Velvet's single-mindedness wouldn't let their quarry escape. Instead, she clambers up to the driver's seat and assesses the damage. "Babs. I'm here. Don't pull the arrow out, I've got a potion that should help..."
Nodding once in answer to Arlandt's indicated direction, Marius advances, keeping foliage between himself and the designated point until it's time to close in--while still keeping eyes on the carriage.
"What is that darkness?" Velvet's voice whispers to Marius, keeping her calm as she tried to follow this trajectory to a more precise location.
"Perhaps they need some incentive to come out into the open. Don't believe your ears, Lord Erallan." She then continues, still unable to see the Night Swan. Invisibly she turns and throws her voice north of the carriage, on the other side of it compared to the ambushers, and mimics panicked shouting.
"What is going on over there!?" The exact voice of the Duchess comes from somewhere behind the northern treeline.
"Please, your Ladyship! Your decoy is under attack! Stay back and follow us to safety!" Another voice responds, and what follows are sounds of rustling branches, weapons clanking across armor in rapt tempo and fading, as if a hidden security detail was swiftly withdrawing through the forest directly away from the bandits...
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Lotti can see that Babs has a dart embedded in his bicep. He sways slightly, and his eyes are glazed over.
A soft curse from south of the road as Rose enacts her distraction, then a figure leaps from a tree branch and dashes across the road. In the flickering light of the carriage lanterns, she looks very striking - form-fitting black trousers and sleeveless tunic, blonde hair in a long braid tied with red ribbons that match the fringe of the blue shawl tied around her waist, a white cape cut in the shape of wings and trimmed in gold. Her sharp features are partially hidden by an eye mask in the shape of twin wings, one white and one black. She wields a curious weapon, like a long, tapered dagger with a long chain attached to the pommel, a chain that ends in a hook.
Marius invokes a spell-prayer to conceal him from sight, and promptly vanishes into invisibility. He let's the Night Swan draw closer, watching closely the way she moves and holds her weapons.
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"Hmpf! Second-rate fashion! Vaudelaire, or an *even cheapter* imitation. Wearing it is nothing short of an atrocity against taste!" The stray thoughts cut through her focus as Velvet automatically goes over the Night Swan's outfit with a perhaps disproportional amount of chagrin. And no hooks anywhere either!
"...Oh well. I'm sure Pharasma will forgive her.".
She appears suddenly, shooting an explosive arrow straight at the bandit!
With a bang and a blinding flare, the arrow strikes the Night Swan in the midsection, scorching the blue shawl. She stumbles with the force of the impact, careening to the right as her eyes dart for the source of the attack. Gasping, she downs a potion as she closes the distance to Velvet.
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Lotti puts the bottle to Bab’s lips and gently tilts it upward so its contents flow out in a trickle before sparing a glance at the darkness enveloping the not-duchess. She raises an invisible eyebrow at the sound of another explosion, but keeps her attention focused on the carriage and its occupants for the time being. “If you’re feeling up to it, drop down behind the carriage or get inside,” she whispers to the poor driver. “Keep yourself as safe as possible.”
Lotti can tell that the darkness is magical, likely the result of the spell with the same name.
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As the Night Swan closes with his ally, Marius calmly strides forward and sweeps his falcata to cut into her leg as he shimmers back into visibility. "Night Swan, I presume? I am Lord Erallan, though of course you already know that--you broke into Betony Manor to threaten the lives of myself and my people. You are under arrest, please comply and you won't be harmed."
About to shoot the Night Swan again, Velvet hesitates upon hearing Marius' words. In her estimation, the Night Swan was a very unwelcome risk that had threatened to kill both him and Rose. But she also didn't want to risk further worsening the mood with Rose's lover, so she takes a moment to size-up the bandit properly. "I would listen to him; I have it on good authority that he's pretty good with that sword."
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The Night Swan cries out in pain as Marius's blade slices into her calf, blood pouring from the wound. Velvet's shot takes her in her midsection again and she almost doubles over, coughing up blood. Panting, she reaches for the edge of her cloak with a trembling hand, drawing it around her body as she whispers "Loin d'ici."
Suddenly, there is a soft pop and a cloud of smoke obscures her figure; when it dissipates after a moment, the Night Swan is nowhere to be seen.
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”How does it start, again? It didn’t take long before he realized his mistake…, the woman paused, contemplatively, and started over, ”he immediately knew he had made a mistake when…” and her brow furrowed. A handsome brow, mind you, with a scar through it, seemingly placed as if to accentuate the unmistakable beauty of her face, as if there was a conspiracy against other woman (who cared about this sort of thing) to make them angry and jealous.
She mused, ”F*&$,” and retrieved a book from where it was tied to her hip. She flipped open the old, leather-bound tome to a particular page and scanned, taking her eyes off of where Jürgen was ambling along at a gentle walk. ”the start is the easiest part, right? So why do I always forget how this one starts…” she whispered to herself as Jürgen’s ears flicked.
”He immediately realized his mistake…”. Yes, obvious.” She looks like she’s going to try to rip off the leather strap and throw the tome into the woods, but she sighs and looks down, and murmurs quietly more to herself, as if memorizing something, ”when he found the sow’s head bleeding into his fine sheets at the foot of his bed.”
She scans a bit and continues more quietly, ”Jermith had crossed the wrong person - and he had reached a point where any more mistakes would cost him his life.” She continued to read carefully, and moved her hands and arms around, gesturing carefully as she emphasized different points.
Jermith’s End was not exactly an “Ulfen Saga of old,” but telling it paid bills better than most other tales, especially when she got it right. Taldor was experiencing a dearth of comforting stories, and a simple morality tale seemed to put folks’ minds at ease, at least according to the coin purse that filled up most nights. The bad guys lost, there was a twist, and most folks knew the ending- but Faenia usually added something new with each retelling, weaving new things into the tale for each particular audience. Those - she didn’t memorize - once the words started, they sprung forth as if unbidden. Uncontrollable. Erupting from her as if she was a vessel for something higher than one person.
It was usually revelatory, but the most cynical of audience members that she was unable to captivate with her looks or sonorous voice - they complained that she didn’t start it right. They didn’t keep complaining, much, with broken noses, but they had a point. What’s a story without the right start? It sets the expectations for everything to come. Faenia knew they were right, and she redoubled her efforts to get the start right. These tales had good endings, because they were worn like a wheelpath on the kings road, but it was annoying to have the smug, drunk, oafs be right.
So she practiced as she travelled. This new task - it wasn’t quite the same as the others. But though she seemed to take to it happily, she seemed to redouble her efforts to get the things right that had to be right.
Dusk was falling - but that didn’t seem to deter the woman. Soon she had a few orbs of light spinning around her head, as she worked and worked to know the real version, as best as she could, from atop a large, grey horse with long ears.
On occasion, when she seemed weary of the book, she hummed a tuneful melody, quietly, as she watched the road and soothed Jürgen with her hand, the beast seemingly taking solace in her song.
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A disheveled man walks at the woman's side. Perhaps the abject opposite of her in terms of appearance, his clothes are as shabby as one can find and his face is grimy. His features are sharp, but sharp in the way of a rat's snout, rather than a picture of aristocratic beauty. He wears no ornamentation save for a single copper stud in his right ear. The man is, in almost every way, forgettable. A beggar, one who's perhaps taken up traveling beside this noblewoman in hopes of earning some coin.
He, too, travels with an animal, but rather than riding on a horse he walks beside a large, scruffy wolf-dog, the hound's keen eyes and keener nose on the lookout for anyone who would seek to harm his companion.
He gives a chuckle, "A sow's head in his bed? Well, I'll tell you, Jermith should've realized his mistake well before that when he tangled with the Sczarni. I've had the foul fortune of getting on their bad side, and..."
Barcos' voice trails off, "Well, I'd best not show the scar I earned from that. Suffice it to say, a sow's head between the sheets as punishment for not casting one of their own in a play is a grave understatement for the recompense they prefer to dole out."
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Faenia sighs, ”it’s a story Barcos. He f*@&ed with the sczarni because it served the tale. Sczarni. Scuzz-arn-ey.” She chewed over the word like a piece of jerky. Better not get that one wrong, or I’ll be on the receiving end.Those drittsek have no sense of humor,” she grumbled.
She sighs, in mock exasperation, dramatically ”The point. The point is that the audience listens to it and they get to think to themselves-“ her voice jumps up in a mock falsetto, ”oh, that oaf Jermith, I wouldn’t do that, what a fool’” it drops back down, continuing ”and then they laugh at his expense, preferably while paying me.” She cracks her knuckles, ”plus I’ve hit one before. A scarzni. Scuzz-nar-ie. Whatever. Folded like a damp cloth.” She looks glum, or something similar.
A moment later, ”how much further? Jürgen is getting tired.”
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As the Night Swan vanishes in a literal puff of smoke Marius lets out an explosive sigh of exasperation. "Damnation! I might have known she has that sort of trick of her sleeves. It'll be a devil of a time tracking her down now--that one was comparatively short-range, but even so it could take hours to cover the possible ground." Eyeing the blood on his falcata, Marius wipes it onto his kerchief which he carefully wraps and tucks into his coat pocket. "It's anyone's guess whether she goes on the warpath or avoids us entirely--what I wouldn't give for a pack of hounds right about now. Lotti, any chance you could scry her with the blood?"
Approaching the wagon, he gives the driver an apologetic pat on the shoulder. "I'm so sorry about that, Babs, both for the wound and that it was for naught. We won't ask anything like this of you again, you have my word."
Turning at last to the trompe l'oeil, Marius spreads his hands in a chagrined gesture. "Well Duchess, what did you think of this little adventure? Unfortunately she possessed the magic to escape--no wonder she's given your nephew such a difficult time."
Velvet doesn't stick around to hear much more than Marius' first sentence - once the initial shock passes, she immediately runs south for the treeline, calling back over her shoulder. "She might have that, but do her men? Help me capture them, if any! Lotti is taking care of the driver!"
"what I wouldn't give for a pack of hounds right about now. Lotti, any chance you could scry her with the blood."
"Hm... Hounds and blood?"
"We're not beaten - not yet," The woman says when they return. She proceeds to climb on top of the carriage and rummages through some bags before returning with a scroll of Bloodhound, which she hands to Marius. "Use this. It will allow you to track her scent trail..." She sits down and dips a Velvet handkerchief in the Night Swan's blood. "...from this. And it should last a few hours. If she's critically injured, chances are she'd take a familiar route back to wherever she's from and we might just run into her."
"I would do it myself... but I can't. Like Rose, I'm not a magician." She seems to pause a moment before adding. "And if that fails, she would need magical healing services to tend to her wounds. Perhaps we could learn something inquiring after this with the temples in Lotheedar."
The persistent shadow where the Duchess was is hurled away and the trompe l'oeil reappears, holding a hand to her shoulder. "She stuck me with a dart! One coated with some substance that caused everything to go dark."
Rose searches the woods south of the road, but there is no sign of anyone there.
Barcos places a hand on Jürgen’s flank, muttering softly to the horse.
He shakes his head, ”He tells me he’s fine. A little hungry maybe, but aren’t we all. All that aside, you’re pronouncing Sczarni wrong. It’s two simple syllables, Szar-Nee. Good way to pick out who’s one of ‘em, and who’s not.”
His keen eyes spot the folks on the road up ahead, ”Seems we may have company upon this lonely road. D’you find yourself wishin’ to make an introduction, or should I?”
Barcos waits for a moment and shrugs, ”Ah, I’ll do it.”
He ambles on ahead, Baron Barksley at his side as he calls out to the party, ”Hoi, there! How’s the day find you upstanding citizens?”
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At the greeting Marius turns to find a pair of travelers in the road. Figuring they're unlikely to be minions of the Night Swan, he waves for the Duchess to climb back into the carriage and turns to greet the newcomers. His eyebrows climb in pleased surprise as he takes them in and he glances heavenward. "Well it's not a pack but Your timing could hardly have been swifter, O Lady." He raises a hand in greeting.
"Is your hound available for hire, sir? There's an assassin on the loose and I'd as soon she not evade us."
Barcos chuckles, ”Me? Sir? Ha, that’s a new one. Doesn’t fit me well, I don’t think. Bounces off the grime, I believe.”
He shrugs, before continuing, ”Just the hound for hire, though? Well, Baron Barksley and myself are a package deal. I’ll help you in exchange for dinner for the two of us and my new companion back there, as well as directions and a favor. If those conditions are amenable, then I’ll see what we can do.”
"Done, and done," Marius agrees without hesitation, fishing the folded handkerchief from his breast pocket and holding it out. "I've her scent here, there's no time to waste."
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"'A favor? What fa-'" The woman on the couch begins to respond as she seemingly searched for something there. She doesn't press however when when Marius instantly agrees. Instead she nods and throws a glance at the elder gnome as she tended to the injured driver. "How is he? Can he make it back on his own?" She asks her, wondering if Lotti would join the hunt or stay behind.
The Taldane woman descends after getting an answer either way. She was unusually attractive, both by figure and an undefined something that seemed to draw attention to her. Was it how her moves tended to flow into the next with unusual precision? It was unclear. However, the overall effect was slightly marred by a variety of circumstances. Most notably, the crossbow in her hands looked quite vicious right then, as did her sharp look and focus in a scene where the driver of her carriage had clearly just been shot, as well as an undefinied pool of blood splatter (and gore?) being present near Marius. She was either (relatively?) used to or insensitive to violence, which seemed to contrast with her apparent worship of Shelyn signified by the songbird pendant she wore on her chest.
"Lord Erallan is correct," She looks at Marius sideways in Lieu of introductions from his side, as Barcos's dog begins tracking the scent trail. "The assassin is a local brigand called the Night Swan. She teleported away from the fight with us, but she's heavily injured so chances are we can still capture her. I am Velvet; what are your names?" She quickly briefs and asks the vagebond and his Ulfen companion.
Faenia looks down, and she looks concerned about something, but it isn’t clear what, and she appears to be taking in the scene, to some degree, ”Marius? Then we are lucky, Barcos.” she looks over at the wolf skeptically, ”if there is magic involved - this will be a difficult task, but we will help if we can.” She hops off of the horse with a heavy thud.
She seems to have been thinking, and adds ”I am Faenia. I have some skills and tools, but do not think I have any any tools to find them, if they teleported.”
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Barcos gives a nod. Though he was sure some of these folk were noble, an odd quirk of Taldan law exempted life-long beggars from the expectation of bowing to the nobility.
"The name's Barcos, pleased to meet you. Got a smattering of odd talents as any vagabond should, though you're in luck that finding things many deem hard-to-find is among my strongest. My faithful hound here is Baron Barksley, though you can just call him the Baron."
With the group's aid, he backtracks to the site of the ambush. As he surveys the scene, he finds a quiet moment away from prying eyes to mutter a few words in the secret tongue of the druids to work some magic that'll heighten his senses and sharpen his eyes.
After casting his spell, Barcos and the Baron set off following the scent.
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Like sounds, scents are somehow sharper at night. And the smells of blood and alchemical concoctions are particularly strong, so after a few moments of sniffing around Baron Barksley picks up a direction in which these are stronger, far north of the road.
As Barcos and his hound head in search of the elusive Night Swan, the head of an older noblewoman pokes out of the carriage window. She looks very elegant, the great beauty of her youth only a little softened by age. "Well, what are you waiting for? Are you not going to chase after her? We need to capture her, alive if possible." Her gaze alights on Faenia, and she smiles, her voice turning to honey. "And hello to you, stranger."
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Faenia nods, satisfied at the nose and skill of his recent companion, ”well done.” She turns to the noblewoman, and curtsies formally, ”ma’am. You’re right, we have work to do.”
She speaks to the others, ”if we have a direction, I can get us to the spot quickly, and we have a good chance to catch up.”
Barcos nods, "That we do. North of the road. If you can get us there quick, I say we go as fast as we can."
He gives a slight grin, "After all, I am quite ready for my promised dinner."