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Isit "Dear, what makes you think Lette, Larisa, and I couldn't handle an ambush as well as the lot of us?" The rest of his commentary is met with a glare. "What makes you think that??"
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Oct 26, 2013 04:58
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Lette "We'd get Skoll, too, wouldn't we? Aww, and I guess you'd be going with them, Celan. Sad. But hey, you'll all have Fenton to keep you sharp." Aeolius fucked around with this message at 09:06 on Oct 26, 2013 |
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Oct 26, 2013 09:04
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Martin "Oh, you know, just observing a pattern..." This time, Martin actually chuckles, before waving a hand. "Just having a laugh, darling. And I'm not worried about anyone's capabilities. Yours or mine or anyone's." Martin crosses his arms before his smile disappears entirely, and he looks back and forth between Isit and Lette. "But I still maintain there is little point to splitting up. What small morsel of time we might save would be wasted by the time taken to link up again to see about our next move, to pool whatever else we might learn. We may well miss some critical bit of information too - each of us tends to notice different kinds of...data, after all. We learn more when we are all in one place. And whatever Naantali might tell us is very likely to have bearing on our meeting with Lord Roland, as well." "In any case," he adds, before eying their messenger expectantly, "the point is also moot if Naantali doesn't have any need to speak to us. That is still conjecture right now. It could do with some clarification from the last one to have spoken to her, I should think?"
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Oct 26, 2013 19:15
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Lette "Have it your way," she says with a shrug. "I'm just as happy not to lose sight of any of you." She glances back at Celan. "Settled? Here, hands on hips," she says, guiding them down. "Hey, were you with any other scouts? She said we'd be able to figure out why she sent you in particular. You suppose she's delaying you returning some info to the queen? Assuming you had anything vital to carry back. And, again, assuming you were the only one with it."
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Oct 26, 2013 22:15
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As Celan's hands go to Lette's hips, the harpy grips them just a bit too tightly for an instant before abruptly relaxing into a more normal grip. "Yes," he says in an only slightly strangled voice, "quite settled." Still fretful, he turns slowly to look over at Martin. "She didn't say anything about urgently needing to talk to you, but I don't know why she'd have waylaid a scout to go pointedly deliver you a message if she didn't. As for the rest-" he colors. "I, uh, didn't see much in the way of her army strength, if that's what you're asking. Mostly under those trees, not in the open. We're... supposed to notice things like that, yeah? And the other guy did fly back to the Queen."
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Oct 28, 2013 14:56
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Dolan "Whatever implied meaning, there is also the fact that the army is on the move," Dolan mumbles half to himself. "Too far ahead of schedule, too fast. Not enough time to stop them easily." Thoughts intrude momentarily, again suggesting that he simply kill the queen then watch as their army falls apart. "No, too risky." Speaking aloud again, he nods to the others. "Let's move then." For an instant he is about to ride in the direction of Noah, before he quickly turns again to follow the road towards the Freehold.
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Oct 28, 2013 18:39
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Lette "Dolan, wait. Before we veer fully off course, what about that thing with the merc scouts? Is there a way you can leave a rune between the camp and Noah? Y'know, like we discussed? I bet we can hammer something out, if we put our heads together."
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Oct 28, 2013 19:12
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Isit "This goes well for all of our dreams coming true. I suppose it's to be expected that something terrible would happen. Still, we do need to deliver a message to Noah, even if we need to divert to the freehold. I don't suppose we could rely on you Celan?"
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Oct 30, 2013 03:10
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Dolan Dolan hmms, scratching his beard. After a moment, he speaks. "The problem is that I can think of at least a half dozen different ways to send a message. Dozens more if they want to use a less orthodox method. Each of them would be handled in a different way. Not only that, but most are impossible to modify without access to the spy himself, and not something we can block without access to the recipient, and no way to intercept it unless we knew the exact moment when the message was going to be sent, and from exactly where." He shakes his head. "If I had a proper team with me, and a few drones..."
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Oct 30, 2013 05:36
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Lette "Well... poo poo. No dragnets, huh? Nothing I can play?" She sighs. "Better luck next time." She gives a half-serious roll of her eyes when Isit makes a reasonably constructive suggestion. "Trying to shoo him off already? To deliver what message in our place? I thought this was billed as... y'know, an autonomous operation?" Aeolius fucked around with this message at 06:22 on Oct 30, 2013 |
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Oct 30, 2013 06:17
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Martin "We do need to give them some notice we're returning and that we have had some success," agrees Martin with a nod to Isit, "but the means is tricky." Lette gets a nod as well. "Yes, and in any case, trustworthy as some might be, it still doesn't do to deliver a message of such import with a messenger from an army with its sights on Noah." He looks to Celan, tries on a nonthreatening smile, and adds, "No offense intended, of course; but I am sure you understand." "I suppose," says Martin, "we could rely on Naantali's people to at least carry advance notice, and we could deliver the particulars when we arrive back in Noah ourselves. Unless we find some magical means to carry the news." He looks to Dolan. "And perhaps some of our activities of late might make that easier than it's been in the past. What do you think, Sir Dolan?"
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Oct 30, 2013 06:34
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Dolan Dolan shakes his head. "The mayor has already made clear his position on my manner of sending messages, and the more I learn the less I trust the message with anyone else. We're probably making too much of this. It's a minor detour; I say we visit the Freehold to find out what the sphinx has to say, then make our way back to Noah."
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Oct 30, 2013 06:48
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Celan gulps, not daring to take his hands off of Lette's hips. "Well... from, I mean, a strictly military standpoint, I've... my buddy already went back with the response, so there's no real, y'know, time pressure for me to go back, and I guess the more I stay here, the more I might be able to learn? So militarily," the harpy concludes, crammed onto the back of a horse that might in truth be just a hair too small for two people, "obviously I would LIKE to stay here, so..." he trails off, to accompaniment from a loud snort emanating from Isit's pack. The party turns towards the Freehold, and within a few hours Celan's peering upward and saying with worry, "That's new-" overhead, though not directly overhead, there are multiple harpies slowly making a deliberate way through the sky. "Looks like a patrol route," muses the one who'd know best. "They must have scrambled. Can't just be looking for me... us... way too much effort. Maybe she's worried..." he trails off again. "No, that'd be Naantali's, this close. Maybe she's worried." Despite the constant overhead presence, nobody comes out to meet them before they reach the outskirts of the Freehold- coming from a different direction, they soon are flagged down by an elf wearing foliage stuck to leather armor and blending nicely into the treeline to show the group a concealed entrance they hadn't yet seen to the forest, one untouched by the recent unfortunate conflagration. "Why would they let me..." Celan starts, then blushes. "Oh. Of course. She's not planning to fight from here, so seeing entrances doesn't matter. Sorry." The guard doesn't even give the harpy a second look, but grins and starts guiding the party through the labyrinthine pathways hacked through the trees. No detours this time to see families or clearings where people live- it's another hour of walking through the forest before they're delivered to familiar territory, coming out in Naantali's own area. Even though it's evening and approaching night, the first impression is that the sphinx is standing and waiting for them outside her tent. Soon a bustling man comes out and starts fitting something onto her, and Martin belatedly recognizes the long and complicated process of fitting a suit of armor; she's got on what looked initially like a plain white dress, but from the way it hangs on her it's thick enough to be the padding keeping armor from chafing. As they approach, a sculpted chestplate and backplate get fitted onto the sphinx's upper half, and she smiles as they approach. "Welcome back," Naantali calls. "I see you got my messenger- forgive me, my message, I should be precise, shouldn't I?" She turns, and adds, "This will do- start figuring out the barding. Can't trust them to just shoot for the heart, given who they work for they may want me alive, perish the thought." As the armor heads off, she adds, "So. Your mission went well, I take it?"
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Oct 30, 2013 13:53
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Martin It was an oddly impressive sight, what with the whole Freehold seemingly on a war footing. Somewhere around the time that they were being led through the myriad routes through the trees, it became evident how defensible the whole place was. Any invaders that thought they could take the forest without obliterating the whole lot would be in for a hell of a surprise. That was something the Freeholders likely would never risk, of course; Martin certainly did not need to seek confirmation of that. But the conclusion was inescapable. The question that remained was how soon battle might come, and whether it could still be avoided. Here, it seemed, preparations were being made for very soon, which was somewhat worrisome. Martin spares a quick look around, and as he eventually glances at each of his companions, there's more than a hint of surprise on his face - it seemed to him that things were moving faster than even their message implied. "It went about as well as any reasonable person could have expected, I think," Martin says finally. Dryly, he adds, "And we've returned in one piece without breaking anything, so that counts as quite a smashing success." He wasn't interested in crowing about what they'd been doing, though, and he crosses his arms before continuing. "Seems this place has gotten a lot busier since we were here last. I suppose you have some news for us that was not appropriate to send the same way as your last message, hm?"
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Oct 30, 2013 17:07
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Isit Isit snorts in unison with Larisa, but manages To not roll her eyes. Well, too much. "Sounds fine to me." With that she follows the others, expecting an ambush the entire time. Shockingly, one doesn't come. With a wave to the sentry, she enters the freehold, still suspicious about the lack of ill fortune. "The mission went well, but I have no expectation it will end well. My trust is in very sort supply these days, and my optimism was never that great." Tilting her head, she greets Naantali. "Well, It looks as if you're dressed for a party."
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Oct 31, 2013 04:22
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Lette The hours of travel pass quickly enough as Lette catches up with her harpy friend, sharing banter, jokes, and stories — significant ones in their own right, if of relatively little consequence in the grand scheme of events. The wending path through the woods, in particular, recalled the events that left a portion of it scorched, which led Lette to share certain revelations of her own heritage, of which the Freeholders were among the first to learn. Finally, the discussion turned to Celan's own roots, his own people. "...And what are they up to these days?" she asks of his family, just as they round the last bend and come face to face with Naantali. Perhaps this will have to wait. "Hail, Naantali." She nods in acknowledgment of her fitters. "I applaud your taste in tailors. And messengers," she adds. "Thanks for the update. All the players are gathering, and we'll be headed that way ourselves soon. With any luck, we can still call off the whole dance, and save that gown of yours for some other time." Aeolius fucked around with this message at 23:55 on Nov 1, 2013 |
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Nov 1, 2013 20:34
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Nodding at the greetings, Naantali shifts as the armorer brings another piece over, putting it on her flank and measuring off distances with string. "Dressing, yes. With the news, I figured it was time to bring my armor out and be sure it still fit, to have any alterations done now rather than when battle was in the offing; don't want to rush this, after all." The dark-furred armorer chuckles at his work. "As for the messenger, I do try to add what pleasantness I can when times are not. A joke will get a desperate creature through a mission that seems next door to a suicide run better than a speech." She shifts and looks at Celan, who gulps and gives the impression of shrinking in on himself without actually taking a step back. "Well done, young one. My people will get you food and water for your trip back, though if you want to delay until these people are free I've no quarrel with that." She waits, and then gently adds, "That was a dismissal, child." Celan nods jerkily, giving Lette a wide eyed look, and heads off towards where a elfin man is waving with one arm and holding a large cup of water on the other; at the same time, the armorer meets Naantali's eyes and then heads off to tinker with the latest piece of sphinx barding. Naantali watches them go, then says quietly, "You doubt Lord Roland, don't you."
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Nov 2, 2013 21:15
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Lette The silence that follows lingers only for a second or two, cool and still as the untouched surface of a stagnant pond. Finally, Lette dives in. "I don't doubt Lord Roland. I've just been concerned for him ever since his attack. He's become... less accessible." An understandable thing in its own right, though she does not elaborate on the unusual sort of obscurity he's achieved, eluding even Caria. "Nor," she adds, "do I doubt the queen. Nor you. Frankly, I want you all to succeed. You can see the problem this poses. But I've covered this before." She shrugs. "My concern is for the people, and they've placed their trust in their leaders. At this moment, the three of you a hold such power as even the gods may envy." And here a queer thought occurs to Lette. Anything could come of this, be it a new world or even several, or an abattoir to overshadow even the brothers' war. The sheer potential here, the crackle of possibility echoing through the atmosphere — might someone be poised to exploit the power contained in this state? Lette makes a note to watch for anyone working to forestall the arrival of conclusion in some form. Assuming anyone has done more in that vein than they themselves. The irony is almost alarming. "I'm almost left to wonder," she continues, reclaiming her train of thought, "if this isn't a problem in and of itself. We've spent all this time fretting over a summit of leaders, but what if it's the people themselves who should be brought into peaceable contact? Breaking down those barriers, diluting the faith in a single leader... it might replace an ideological problem with one of, um... logistics? That's the right word, right?" That seems to be the word people use when they need a word that means whatever. "If that can be done, then maybe those doubts you're considering won't even matter." Aeolius fucked around with this message at 08:05 on Nov 3, 2013 |
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Nov 3, 2013 08:02
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Martin "And here I thought bringing the people into peaceable contact was what we were trying to do between Noah and the Freehold in the first place," notes Martin in a dry, vaguely amused tone. Then, open-palmed, he agrees - to a point. "It is a good thought of course, Lette. And in the long term, vitally important for a sustainable peace, you're very right. But to arrange such contact between all three parties would require some sort of cessation of hostilities in the first place. Which unfortunately leaves us where we already are, and brings us back to the other question." He rubs his chin, looks down at the ground; Martin didn't want to give Naantali an excuse to consider backing out of the arrangement with Lord Roland for a host of reasons, but then, if Lord Roland wasn't Lord Roland? What then? Did the question even have an answer? With any luck, they could at least be closer to answering that by the time they reached Noah again... Finally he says, "Doubt...isn't quite the right word, no. He certainly seems to have changed a little. Perhaps that's only natural when one is almost murdered in their own home. Perhaps there's more to it than that, which could be cause for concern, or could mean nothing at all. I do know he plans to follow through with the agreement, which might be the only thing that matters right now." He looks up. "You suspect something, or else you would not have asked, is that right?"
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Nov 3, 2013 19:25
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Isit "Peace is never sustainable. But a summit might make it last longer. Or cause a bloodbath. Quite honestly there are a lot of moving parts here, and Roland's inaccessibility is only part of the problem. We're all flanked by unknown and known organizations and individuals that are smarter, better, and more powerful than any of us. We can talk and strategize all we want, but in the end it's anyone's guess how this ends." Of course she had abiding faith it'd end badly. "At any rate, this will all come to the pointy end sooner or later, and people will die. Quite frankly I'd rather it be you left standing than most in this game. Especially if you marry Roland. It'd be a decent step towards uniting two groups of people in a peaceful manner."
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Nov 4, 2013 00:41
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Mildly, Naantali says, "No, child. I suspect whether or not he is himself anymore." She holds up one paw, studying it as that particular statement registers. "Given that I'll be entrusting my people to him as well as myself, any such doubts among that direction acquire a bit stronger bite, don't they? I mean even more than your own concerns." As Lette speculates about breaking down the trust of a group of people in a single beloved leader to a sphinx who is the single beloved leader of a group of people, she shoots Martin a quick raised eyebrow, her face not showing other doubt. "Of course though, Lette, peace would be preferable, but one must always be ready for it to decay into an all out war as Isit says. As for how that peace is gained, how much does it really matter? My people are tired of it all, I think. Are you hungry?"
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Nov 4, 2013 03:24
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Martin "There's a difference between peace, in the abstract, and a peace, in the specific," Martin suggests. "Perhaps," he admits, "the former is unsustainable. There are always threats. But the latter can last long, if the groundwork is built right." He pauses, grappling with something. The Baron spares a look around to make sure there is no one else there. "We've had - well, I've had - suspicions, I suppose? But there's no way to know as yet, and most things have gone on just as before. So: maybe just paranoia. Hard to help that, in these days." Martin manages an awkward chuckle. "Seems you have your share of that too. And as usual I suspect you - as everyone else does - know some things the lot of us don't." He shoots a look at Isit; this might be their chance, the both of them. If Naantali was suggesting what perhaps he thought she was, that is. Of course, there'd be a price...one that perhaps neither of them could pay. But it was worth at least investigating. After all, everything was falling apart, everywhere. The drastic had a certain appeal. "Hungry, yes. Perhaps we ought to discuss all this over dinner. Hunger is good for such subjects, but emptiness less so." He grins. After a second he looks around at his companions. Then Martin drops the most important inquiry. "I guess that leaves another question - if you can't trust Lord Roland, who can you trust?" It almost seemed rhetorical, but there was some hint in the tone of wanting an answer. Fraction Jackson fucked around with this message at 04:08 on Nov 4, 2013 |
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Nov 4, 2013 04:04
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Dolan "I'd had my suspicions," The dwarf says, nodding at Martins words, "but I have no evidence, nor any way to seek it without rousing suspicion. A dangerous line to walk. We already know of at least one being capable of replacing him nigh undetectably, but for what purpose I don't yet understand." The offer of a meal is appealing after a long day, but... "We should be delivering word to Noah, don't you think? While a meal and rest would be welcome, with the army on the move we should try to delay as little as possible."
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Nov 4, 2013 05:23
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Lette She purses her lips, considering Dolan's counteroffer. "You're right that time is short, but... don't you think this is a discussion worth delaying for? Especially if there are doubts about exactly whom we'd be rushing off to meet." To Naantali she adds: "Plus, I don't think my going on a hunger strike will be a deciding factor, here." Still, her mind lingers on her earlier point: if leaders can gather people under one roof, and they can somehow do the rest themselves, none of these cosmic uncertainties need be quite so apocalyptic in scope. As for how to go about accomplishing such a task... well, that's the cosmic uncertainty, and certainly not sort of thing to consider on a full stomach. Aeolius fucked around with this message at 18:03 on Nov 4, 2013 |
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Nov 4, 2013 09:29
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Martin "Perhaps just a meal and a night march then, Dolan, if need be. I do understand your concern. But..." He nods to Lette. "What you said - I couldn't have said it better. If there's something we need to know before we return to Noah, then the offer we're carrying has to wait, simple as that. And there's a reason we delivered the precise terms that we did, too, remember." Fraction Jackson fucked around with this message at 01:13 on Nov 5, 2013 |
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Nov 5, 2013 00:33
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Isit "Perhaps there is a way of telling if he has been replaced, and given the ability to meet with certain parties, it might be feasible. But who can say if that's a luxury we have?" Shrugging, she nods at the sphix. "I could eat."
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Nov 5, 2013 02:56
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Naantali snorts, then impatiently adds, "Yes, of course, you're afraid of the shapeshifter. I'm less worried about bodily replacement than mental corruption, but the point holds. And of course, if he's not suitable, then quite a lot of my planning is out in the cold, no?" She looks back and forth from Martin to Lette, mouth quirking up just a fraction of an inch towards a grin before being controlled. "Well, come on. Vegetarian, I'm afraid. Can't overindulge, no matter how much part of my body might want to." A half hour later, a rough table sports a seemingly unending array of salads, fruits, and nuts; Naantali, perhaps because the party hardly has any more formal wear, lays at the head of the table with a plate of mixed greens, picking at it incongruously with sharp-clawed paws and nibbling as she watches the others. Celan remains nowhere to be found, and no others from the Freehold for a hundred feet in any direction; sure sign that the matriarch of the area still desires privacy. "Well, perhaps not the best for restoration after a long hike, but-" The sphinx shrugs. "Now. You say you have no proof that Lord Roland's not himself anymore. What if I did?" She asks, holding up a small tomato before popping it in her mouth. "Would you attempt to depose him, take over the town for yourselves?" She doesn't seem accusatory, simply... interested.
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Nov 5, 2013 15:53
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Martin Martin sits as near to opposite the Sphinx as is practicable. The current matter was more than intriguing; it hit right at thoughts he himself had grappled with off-and-on for some time. It was why so many precautions had been taken, so many plans made. In some way it was both comforting and terrifying to know that their own doubts were shared in this place. There might not be much that Naantali and Caria might have in common - or admit to having in common - but on this they seemed to have similar suspicions. Gnawing slowly on an apple, Martin remains silent for a time. Then, of course, Naantali asks questions. The most important questions, perhaps. His eyebrows raise - Martin doesn't dare even shoot a look at the others for fear of seeming to take the question the wrong way. Blinking, he slowly finishes the bite of apple in his mouth, calmly puts down the remainder of it for now, and looks to the head of the table. "That," Martin claims finally, finger pointing off into nowhere, "is a very interesting question, isn't it?" He stops himself a moment, knits his fingers together, considering something. When he begins to speak again his hands are quite animated, gesturing as he explains his thinking. "If," begins Martin, lingering on that word a moment, "there was actionable proof of him no longer being himself. That, more specifically, he was compromised in a way that would endanger both Noah and the process of attempting to create peace?" He pauses to consider his words. "...Noah's needs and the regions needs - including that of your community as well - would take precedence over the Lord Mayor's claim." "If there could be a way to restore the Lord Roland that was, the one before he was hypothetically changed in this scenario, that would be the best option. Noah ill needs a succession crisis now of all times. But your question, I think, supposes that this might not be possible. And a part of me wonders - presumptuous, I know - but part of me wonders if the lot of us here might just constitute the old Roland's backup plan for if something happened to him." "So I suppose the answer to your question is this." Finally he looks to his companions. All of them seemed in this to the end, for various reasons, and they deserved more than they had gotten out of it so far. Dolan, for his strange loyalty; Lette, for her bravery; Isit, for her willingness to keep trying even when she thought it futile. And for the promise he'd made her. A different title, of course, but maybe this would be a way to keep his promise - assuming all this speculation came to pass. At long last, the Baron allows himself a grin. "If it ends up being the best way to save Noah, to save everyone, to safeguard the chance of peace...then we'd have little other choice but to safeguard Noah itself in that manner." Then, with an open-handed shrug, he adds, "But that is a lot of ifs, is it not?" Fraction Jackson fucked around with this message at 17:13 on Nov 5, 2013 |
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Nov 5, 2013 17:11
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Dolan Food, even vegetarian fare, was more welcome than Dolan had though. Perhaps it was the urgency he felt, or the constant schemes running through his mind and the constant attempt to differentiate between his own and those of his other self. Regardless, he was hungrier than he had though, and he welcomed the chance to sate some of it. Naantali's question is a good one, and the offer of evidence was very tempting. "Ideally, if we could restore the mayor or turn him to our own ends, that would be the best," he says. "No messy succession, stability in power dynamics, less chance of someone getting the idea that they could do the same thing we did and scheming against us. It might be possible. But to the heart of the question, yes, the Baron is right. The needs of the region outweigh those of one man, even if he does carry those needs."
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Nov 5, 2013 19:27
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Isit "Well if your question isn't some sort of elaborate trap in pursuit of some unknowable goal, I'd say if Roland has been replaced by something nasty, we would have to do something about it, wouldn't we? Of course, if I may ask a question in turn, what do you think would happen to people that try to depose a beloved leader and fail? Especially if they don't have the clout he does?" She spears a leaf for emphasis. "I suppose my point being, how good is your proof?"
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Nov 6, 2013 06:12
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Lette Lette has a drink, conscious of the fact that the last time she drank around Naantali, she put her foot in her mouth and then made a balls of an attempt to dispel magical poison. She resolves to monitor herself more closely this time. Anyway, she's getting some food in her, too, at least. "Agreed on all points," she chirps, then busies herself with some honeyed walnuts. Sweet and substantial — and you are what you eat, as da was wont to remind. And here her thoughts drift of their own accord, back to that place where even fire gave off no light. Her chewing slows, and for a moment her heart pumps ice water. One soul won't make a difference. These may be the most frightening words she'd ever heard, and all in harmony with that otherworldly hum. She fidgets and tries to fixate once again on the discussion, drink disappearing in short order. "Our grasp of Roland's situation is partial. At the least, we know — we believe we know," she corrects, "the nature of the weapon the Eagles used. We've seen its effects on another, too, though the two cases differ by... third-party interference. Beyond that, nothing is clear. If our options are to repair him or replace him... well, I don't know if evidence will do as much for the former as the latter." After all, even if Naantali had come by that arrow, it'd still leave the matter of locating the man's soul. Aeolius fucked around with this message at 15:29 on Nov 6, 2013 |
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Nov 6, 2013 15:26
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Naantali continues munching on what appears to be a head of lettuce, continuing to listen and nodding absently at each person. "Ah yes," she finally says. "The succession. Which is in a decidedly more precarious state than it could have otherwise been, if Lord Roland is unavailable." She looks sidelong at Isit in time to see the elf bristle, and chuckles to herself at poking the bear. "What's done is done though on that front. And if it failed-" Naantali shrugs. "I would hold this forest against any comers. You know Noah can't credibly threaten me- you've seen enough to have reasoned that out," the sphinx says with the tone of voice that silently added, 'You've been allowed to see enough'. She begins drumming one set of four very sharp claws on a wooden table, stropping them and chipping the wood as she eyes Lette. "The weapon that did this? That, to help answer Isit's question, is very interesting. That magic of the type I suspect could be bound in a physical weapon is," she smiles, "daunting. The Eagles, you say? I find it more than passing odd that they'd attack Lord Roland. After all, given the possible contenders for leadership of the area, Lord Roland- and yourselves- are the only ones they could conceivably not wish to launch a holy war against, wouldn't you agree? Do try the grapes, some of my people brought some vines with them from a divine yard."
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Nov 8, 2013 03:38
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Lette "'Passing odd' is an interesting way to phrase it. Me, I could start speaking now without the first prepared thought and ramble out a dozen stories, from people pretending to be Eagles to, I don't know, Roland working with them to stage the attack on himself. And no matter how far-fetched the thing I blurt out is, just give it a few seconds and it starts to sound more plausible. Heck, I have a harder time reading you than just about anyone; for all I know-..." She stops herself before making an even worse faux pas. She's not that drunk. "For all I know you're playing this game every bit as hard," she concludes mildly, turning her attention to the grapes.
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Nov 8, 2013 05:25
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The sphinx's eyes twinkle, and one half of her mouth smiles a very little. "For my people? Of course I play the game. Anyone who isn't and has responsibility for someone's safety is being derelict, after all."
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Nov 8, 2013 05:27
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Isit Isit pushes the leaf around her plate, but doesn't eat. Perhaps the conversation had soured her stomach. "People can do a lot to protect their own. All of us have to some extent. Still, I would like to know more before action is agreed upon.”
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Nov 8, 2013 05:41
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Lette Lette purses her lips, eyes slowly returning to Naantali. Those observing her may suddenly get the impression of extreme tension lurking just below the surface, like some tightly wound spring lay compressed, threatening to burst. "Excuse me for just a second." She helps herself to a few more grapes as she rises. "I know someone else who'd enjoy these," she says, wandering in the direction in which she had last seen Celan. She does manage to control her tone admirably; in fact, her performance would be downright political if every other part of her demeanor weren't exuding indignation. Aeolius fucked around with this message at 15:08 on Nov 8, 2013 |
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Nov 8, 2013 05:42
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Martin He spares a glance at Lette as she gets up to leave, a bit perplexed at her apparent incensed-ness. With a sigh and a tone apologetic on her behalf, Martin says, "She's had more than her share of worries, lately. I suppose we all do, but her maybe moreso. She doesn't mean anything by it." "Now then." Looking to Isit, he nods, before turning his attention back to their host for a moment. "We would need to know before doing anything, indeed." He pauses for just a moment to pluck a grape from the table. "And in any case, Naantali...with all due respect, I think you have left a piece out of the puzzle. That is, your arrangement with the Lord Mayor." Martin rests one hand on the table, and the other gestures nonchalantly this way and that. "You are right that before, they'd have surely preferred Lord Roland over any of the other options without a doubt. But, I think, that picture changes if the Eagles find he is considering a marriage with what they would consider the enemy." "We have taken great pains to keep the news under wraps, but we also know that due to the circumstances surrounding Roland's injury, that at least some of those with access to him are...not to be trusted fully. So it is certainly feasible, in my mind, for the prevailing theory to remain - someone close to Roland was either careless or traitorous, and the Eagles used force." He leans back, and crosses his arms. "But then, we have only limited information to work with. You suggest that you doubt it was the Eagles, and you've suggested also - if not said outright - you can prove what's happened to Roland. We'd be obliged, then, if you would share such knowledge, that we can use it to make the right choice, whatever that choice might be. After all, we are all at the mercy of time on this matter."
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Nov 8, 2013 16:51
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Naantali nods gravely at Isit. "Yes. I'd like to know," she stresses the word, "more before I act as well. And yet, when you fight high odds, you sometimes have to decide things based on incomplete information, and weigh the risks of being wrong against the risks of failing to act. What I'm attempting to do is see where that balance lies now." She watches Lette go, nodding slightly to herself as the fae's back turns. Martin gets a slight raised eyebrow as he comes to the young woman's defense, but the sphinx makes no issue of it. "Quite correct. When Lord Roland agreed to compromise himself in their eyes by dealing with me, he did become a mild target. Still, it would be less... wasteful of resources, to be a bit crude, for them to assassinate me- if they could- and strongarm him into marrying some other aristocratic human woman. Preferably after they grind my people down to kill as many of the barbarian Queen's followers as possible. A plague on both our houses, if you will? But they instead jumped straight to killing Lord Roland." She sips a strongly fruity-smelling drink. "Or appearing to try, at any rate. But you're also quite right that time is short." She settles back on her haunches, face inscrutable as she studies the table. "I can prove less than I'd like. All I know for sure is that he truly was shot by an arrow that had a very nasty enchantment placed on it, and that he made a recovery from the spiritual wound that would have required outside aid... or, perhaps, a will as strong as the Empire's founder." She can't quite control a very slight beginning of a sneer as she says the last few words. "I also have been trying to come up with a source of that outside aid that isn't wholly objectionable, without much plausible success. And so... there is little I can prove, but much I fear and few innocuous explanations remaining that aren't at the verge of being beyond belief." Celan's not nearby, but after asking (through slightly gritted teeth), a distant guard's able to bring Lette all the way over to the other side of the clearing; Celan's sitting on a tree stump, eating a piece of brown bread dripping with some kind of gravy with apparent happiness. Looking up, his feathers fluff out just a little. "Hi! Um... you look- mad. What's in the air? The others still..." he waves one hand indistinctly, "busy?"
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Nov 14, 2013 15:57
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Lette "That obvious, huh?" She swallows the grape she'd been chewing with some wrath along the way. "Here," she says, offering him the rest of the bunch. "Divine vintage. Literally." She plops down beside him, sighing. "I don't think Naantali and I see eye to eye. In the air? Some implications I found frankly insulting, and maybe it'll need to be cleared before too long. Um, the air, that is. Could've said that better. Whatever. I'm starting to think she dislikes me, though." She takes a sip from the cup she'd carried from the table. "You look comfy. I mean, that you look like you're feeling comfortable. Yourself." Could've said that better, too. "Um, anyway. All's well over here? Need anything?" She stares down into the cup, clearing her throat. "Say, what's your... itinerary like? Will you be sticking by us for long? Because there's something I've been meaning to ask you. It won't take long, but now's maybe not the best time." She looks back up at the discussion far across the clearing. Stupid, stupid. Irresponsible. "That is, I probably shouldn't have stormed off, since who knows how many more chances we'll get for a meeting like this." But then, who knows how many more chances she'll get to meet with her harpy friend? And the latter hadn't been rude to her. And her cousins and 'grandpa' are probably better able to keep up with the sphinx than she, anyway. Aeolius fucked around with this message at 21:52 on Nov 14, 2013 |
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Nov 14, 2013 19:02
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| # ? Jun 7, 2024 03:09 |
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Dolan Dolan leans forward, lacing his fingers. "I would not be surprised at this point to learn that the mayor is dead," he says. "That definite possibility has been confirmed already. If he's been replaced then his body double has done a satisfactory job so far of playing the part. Not well enough, if he's drawn suspicion, of course, though I doubt he's left a confession lying in his office to be found by a skulking spy. Still, he must be investigated when we return, and I believe we have the means to be discreet about it."
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Nov 15, 2013 01:29
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