Eberron -- Buried Secrets IC

[CockroachTeaParty]

"Well, that's certainly more specific than any of my vague babbling. Color me interested. If they need any three foot tall objects to plug up any leaks, consider me the cork of choice. Where should we meet? University commons? The fountain in the courtyard?"
Winslow perks up a bit, now that there's an actual opportunity before him.

[Wiz]

Dax smiles, a little amused by Relian's discomfiture. "Well, it sounds like we have a couple of plans... were we going to meet with Russo first and then look up this professor? Once we've got that set Relian and I can plan out the rest of our evening."

[Scow2]

Darrshan takes the parchment with an absent-minded nod, and forgets to mention he's still illiterate beyond the ability to recognise the letter "X". He might investigate it later, but right now he's more interested in the conversation around him, listening in silence.

[kemmotar]

Ah vince, stop your worrying. I'm sure you're far more useful than just as the cork of choice. Nevertheless, why don't we all meet on Sul to discuss it with the professor himself?

Almost as an afterthought, Bertrand turns to Dax:

Though I'm curious miss, I believe you mentioned Russo. I assume you are indeed referring to the gentleman with which you had an....argument..a while ago. You would go and see him once more? I feel I should warn you. If you go intent on demanding an apology from a more sober and presumably logical version of him, I believe his bitterness and once already bruised ego will be slow to warm up to the idea of realizing he has indeed behaved like an ass. May I suggest that you leave him a few days to cool off?

[Wiz]

Dax blinks, "No... I was going to apologize to him. True, he acted like an ass - but I reacted to his behavior rather poorly. More poorly than I would have wished from myself."

[kemmotar]

Well even so, Russo Loide is a bitter man. Tragic story really...perhaps our playwright would appreciate the irony...

Bertrand smiled in Saera's direction.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Winslow sips at his champagne, mulling over the future possibilities.
"Yes... I haven't heard much of this Russo chap, but from what I've heard so far he seems quite the interesting fellow. Besides, House Cannith always needs sundry things done, this and that, here and there. It might be prudent to divine where Russo's loyalties lie, exactly; Cannith hasn't been the same since we lost Cyre, and we don't want to mistake him for a Merrix man as opposed to a Jorlanna one. Finding him in Sharn, one would assume he's mostly concerned with the southern branch of the family, but one never knows..."

[The_Snark]

Saera is smiling faintly and occasionally nodding as she listens to the conversation. Or perhaps as she doesn't listen; she doesn't respond to Bertrand at all until she notices he's looking at her.

She startles slightly, then refocuses her gaze on him and smiles as if to say, Can I help you?

[kemmotar]

Still looking at Saera, part curiously, part with deep interest:

I was just saying that you amongst us might appreciate the irony of Russo Loide's life better than any of us...do you...know the story?

[Wiz]

Dax pipes in, "Well, I haven't heard the whole story... so if you'd like to tell us."

[justice_fishy]

"I'd rather like to hear it myself too for that matter" Alyanna looking at the assembled, chair still tipped back.

[kemmotar]

Well...You all know Russo d'Cannith. I propose to introduce to you, the man, Russo Loide. As a Cannith he is a genius and no one will say different and holds great power. Alas, Russo Loide, is the bitter man. A failure in the eyes of his family, the House Cannith and most of all himself.

He pauses a second looking into the faces of those gathered around him.

Despite the money he has poured into it, despite the favours he has called in and those he owes he's failed every attempt at practicing magic, though he be a, perhaps, unrivaled genius in the selfsame field. Word has it he came to Morgrave after having failed at an Aundair temple of Aureon.

It appears he has once again in Morgrave if anyone can be the judge of that last drinking marahon and his foul mood. But of course, his pride would never allow him to admit it or give up...a bitter, tragic man.

[justice_fishy]

"So..." Alyanna contemplating after a moment, "brilliant at the theoretical but terrible at the practical? Rather unfortunate story there. I can see how he'd be nothing but a bitter, angry, raging shell of a man driven to drink and nothing but."

[Scow2]

Darrshan grows bored of the conversation, not really caring about Russo. "Pardon me, but I think this party's over for me," With that, he stands up, and heads off to return to his dorm.

[The_Snark]

Saera's face shifts through a series of difficult-to-read expressions as Bertrand speaks, as if she's trying to puzzle something out. As he finishes, however, it settles in a cool mask of disapproval: chin held high, eyes remote, lips tilted just slightly downwards in a frown. The elf deliberately—theatrically, one might say—turns her back on the noble and the circle of people listening, and begins to walk away, heading in the direction of the bar.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Winslow sits with his elbow on the table, and he casually re-carbonates his champagne with the help of his still-active dragonmark.
"We seem to be losing people. As is to be expected. Well, ladies and gentlemen, this is all sounding rather promising, but I don't think I'll pay a visit to this Russo fellow. I've nothing profound to say to him, but if he does offer some manner of opportunity and there is room for a chap like myself, well, do keep me in mind.
*sigh* I suppose I should help our generous hosts begin the cleanup process. Here's to a fine evening."
He finishes off his glass, and starts straightening the folds in the table cloth with lazy waves of his hand.

[kemmotar]

Bertrand's eyes follow Saera to the bar and half rises as he says:

Very well Vince, shall we all agree then to meet Sul at midday outside Proffessor Rothcollor's office to discuss the pilla...ehmm...archeological dig?

[Wiz]

Dax purses her lips, but doesn't say anything as Saera walks away. She turns to Relian, "So... would you like to take me for a drink somewhere? They look like they want to close this place up."

[appending_doom]

Most of the other guests have, in fact, drifted away in ones and twos. The manager of the Arms, a stocky, white-haired halfling, oversees the servants cleaning the deserted corners of the room.

When he sees Winslow stand up, he drifts over.

"I heard about the to-do earlier. It sounded like tensions ran a little high. Nobody got hurt, did they?"

[kemmotar]

Bertrand shrugged at what he took to be silent acceptance and wandered whether he would see them as he stepped away from the bar and sidled up to Saera.

It's interesting to watch you Miss playwright. A woman of few words, but your face says quite a bit. It seems you made up your mind about something and it wasn't good...and yet the question is...how do you know Russo Loide?

[CockroachTeaParty]

Winslow snaps to attention as the owner of the Arms approaches, again all manners, grace, and tact.
"Ah, yes, I'm afraid there was a brief 'exchange of ideas,' if you will. Nobody was injured, though perhaps some feelings were hurt. Nothing more became of it. I am sorry, though. Hopefully word of it won't spread too far beyond this evening... we can trust the alcohol to weaken certain memories, perhaps. At any rate, let me know if you need any help closing shop as the evening winds down. I'm at your disposal."

[The_Snark]

Saera pauses in pouring herself another glass of wine, looking a little nonplussed at the question. It's been a long night, and she struggles both with figuring out what Bertrand is asking and with how much she wants to tell him.

"We've spoken," she finally answers, swiveling about to face the young nobleman more directly. "And how do you know him? Has he spoken with you too, perhaps, told you all those things and asked you to share them with the world?" She leans forward, fixing him with a much more focused look than she's worn all evening.

[appending_doom]

"As good a guest as host, eh?" the owner asks cannily, grinning. He shakes his head and claps Winslow on the shoulder. "Don't worry yourself about clean-up; others take good money to do it for me. See your guests safely out, and I'll take care of my hall."

[kemmotar]

Bertrand smiled, I have her attention it seems. Interesting, Lorsk thought taking a small sip of the golden liquor in her glass.

You disapprove of my...sharing with the others what I know of him. Perhaps you are correct, but I said merely what is common knowledge outside the university's protected halls.

Bertrand leaned closer, he lowered his voice and fixed his eyes on Saera:

I respected both his privacy and yours else I would have mentioned that he has asked to meet both you and I tomorrow. I believe he has a request we might be able to help him with and he did ask for you specifically. So my questions stands unanswered. How do you know him?

[The_Snark]

"We met, and we spoke." Saera sounds a little irritated at having to repeat herself, and speaks slowly, as if Bertrand won't understand if she goes faster. "I often visit Morgrave to read; we met there. In the library."

She pauses here, to see if this satisfies the inquisitive noble.

[kemmotar]

sense motive to see if Saera is hiding something: (1d20+7)[14]

[kemmotar]

Bertrand relaxed a bit and a smile settled on his face again...he could never reliably read Saera, that's why he liked her...

I too have spoken to him, albeit rarely. Will you then join me tomorrow to hear what he has to say?

[The_Snark]

Saera blinks, but this time the bit about going to see Russo seems to sink in. She nods, and downs the rest of her wineglass, in hopes that it will make the world around her a little clearer. Sadly, it doesn't, and she wonders briefly whether she should even bother going home. It wouldn't be as warm, but if she could find an alley to curl up in for the night then she wouldn't have to go down all those stairs...

[kemmotar]

Bertrand looks her over once more, she nodded eh...didn't even ask what time or where. Though she agreed it seems I'm not really getting through am I...

How about a late night walk in the cool night air?...It might refresh us from the night's drinking...you do after all seem unstable on your feet.

Concerned as she was about Saera, there was one greater priority. Russo wanted something and he wanted Saera. Saera instantly became an asset and she was going to make sure she made it to the meeting the next morning...

[The_Snark]

Saera looks down at her feet. Do they look unstable? She can't tell but it's a worrying thought. "There are a thousand stairs between me and my home," she says aloud, half to Bertrand and half to herself. She thinks for a moment (and does, in fact, sway a bit, either from alcohol or fatigue), and then decides, "All right."

She starts making her way to the door, apparently assuming that Bertrand will follow.