The Order of the Stick: Utterly Dwarfed
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    Titan in the Playground
     
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    Default The Fire and The Black: Daemonfold [IC]

    The sun is high in the sky by now, though it's not as intense as it was only a month or so back. A handful of people are even wearing the long sleeves of cooler weather, though today has still been warm, the clouds passing overhead rarely interrupting the sun's light and the warmth that comes with it. Recently another wave of merchants have come to the market, some clearly travelers intent on one last pass through Korvosa before they return to wherever they spend the winter. While the city is large and prosperous enough to attract traders during every month of the year (and needs to, if it's to feed itself), the summer tends to bring more variety, especially near the end. It's on this day that a letter finds you, the same hand and the same ink on each paper going through the city's streets.

    Rakinen

    You can tell the people have grown accustomed to your daily routine. Everywhere you pass regularly has seen a notable change in the people present; as you pass, they often turn and smile, chuckle, or wave, rather than stare or (in a few cases) back away in fear that your run is a sign of trouble. In some areas it went quite quickly, though in other parts of Korvosa the people seem less willing to accept an armored man running through the streets into their mornings, and occasionally make rude comments as you pass. In other places, though, you seem to be a welcome sight - recently, a small gaggle of children has been gathered in front of a house each morning you come by, the group rushing off to follow you as soon as you pass. The oldest occasionally matches you for a few houses, but the rest are quickly left behind, tired or simply unwilling to follow beyond a certain distance.

    Today, though, it's a bit different. You've passed the children, rounded another corner, and come to a relatively deserted street when someone steps out up ahead; a young man. More than just coming onto the road, he seems intent on blocking your path, stretching out his arms and asking you to stop - at first it's unclear why, but a moment later he's waving a hand clutching a sealed letter, taken from the leather satchel slung over one shoulder. The letter is of visible quality from the moment you first see it closely, the seal especially.

    Spoiler: Letter Contents
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    To the esteemed recipient Rakinen Davarii,

    I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirit, as well as at the proper time. I have a matter I would wish to discuss with you, a matter I believe will suit your temperament and abilities well. I request that you do not spread word of this matter, but I am intending to hire you to perform a task for me that I would rather not be commonly known.

    Worry not; I have no intentions of asking you to murder some rival or sully your hands with something similarly despicable. I would prefer to not go into further detail in a letter, so I would request you come to my home in Cliffside this afternoon, specifically at three hours after midday; an address and sketched map are on the next page.

    Do be aware, I have sent a similar letter to several other parties I hope to see there as well. Do not be surprised if you are not the only guest.

    Signed,
    Salvin Overni




    Solys

    As usual, things are slightly less than ideal. Korvosa doesn't have the proper ingredients you need - not at affordable prices, anyways - so you've had to improvise somewhat, occasionally relying on local replacements of things that are simply not around these parts. Still, progress is being made, and the work needs doing as long as you intend to have enough money to do anything other than sleeping and eating at the inn. You've been working for a while when a knock comes at the door. It's your hostess, Lamps. Unusually, she informs you someone had come with a letter. After making sure he wasn't with the Dusters and bringing some sort of magical trap, she determined that the letter he brought was legit.

    Of course, what an actual noble house was sending a letter for...Lamps is sure to mention is really is a noble seal, but shrugs at what they would be sending a letter to her about. Perhaps someone to check the tops of their doorways?

    Spoiler: Letter Contents
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    To the esteemed recipient Solys,

    I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirit, as well as at the proper time. I have a matter I would wish to discuss with you, a matter I believe will suit your temperament and abilities well. I request that you do not spread word of this matter, but I am intending to hire you to perform a task for me that I would rather not be commonly known.

    Worry not; I have no intentions of asking you to murder some rival or sully your hands with something similarly despicable. I would prefer to not go into further detail in a letter, so I would request you come to my home in Cliffside this afternoon, specifically at three hours after midday; an address and sketched map are on the next page.

    Do be aware, I have sent a similar letter to several other parties I hope to see there as well. Do not be surprised if you are not the only guest.

    Signed,
    Salvin Overni




    Vesta

    The morning is almost entirely uneventful. The inspections pass with no unusual reports - some degree of variance is there, of course, but not enough for anything to be truly strange. No interruptions, no delays...it's only once you've returned, once the city is awake and the sun perhaps two hours from its zenith and the barracks far emptier that the day becomes anything but ordinary. You've barely had time to sit down and look at the handful of papers already waiting for you to read them when a messenger arrives. You recognize the man easily; you see each other often even though you're not even sure if you know his name. This time, oddly, he doesn't come bearing a stack of 'must-complete' paperwork or even some urgent request for an utterly mundane meeting. Instead he has a letter - two, really, though they're tied together. The first bears a noble house's seal, and is on paper considerably finer than any that passes your desk. The other is much more utilitarian; the same material everything is written on in the Guard.

    Spoiler: First Letter Contents
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    To the esteemed recipient Vesta Pyralis,

    I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirit, as well as at the proper time. I have a matter I would wish to discuss with you, a matter I believe will suit your temperament and abilities well. I request that you do not spread word of this matter, but I am intending to hire you to perform a task for me that I would rather not be commonly known.

    Worry not; I have no intentions of asking you to murder some rival or sully your hands with something similarly despicable. I would prefer to not go into further detail in a letter, so I would request you come to my home in Cliffside this afternoon, specifically at three hours after midday; an address and sketched map are on the next page.

    Do be aware, I have sent a similar letter to several other parties I hope to see there as well. Do not be surprised if you are not the only guest.

    Signed,
    Salvin Overni




    The second is bears the seal of the Guard - no, not just the guard. The mark on the side indicates it's passed the desk of Field Marshal Croft.

    Spoiler: Second Letter Contents
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    Pyralis,

    see if it interests you. Overni pulled some strings and you can be relieved from duties in order to work for him if you like.

    Send word if you take the job.

    Signed
    Field Captain Blazbodi

    LEAVE APPROVED, CROFT


    Tsōlg

    It's not long after waking that you know what you're going to be doing. It was cloudier yesterday, but it seems that has passed, leaving much of the sky a clear blue, the occasional cloud briefly bringing a few moments of shade but mostly letting the sun shine down on the city. You're alone in the sparsely grown field for a time, the people on the edge of the city seeming to have little in the way of time or desire to go through the area you've chosen to use. In fact, they come by rarely enough that you immediately notice the young human man approaching. He retrieves a small bit of paper from a leather bag hanging from one shoulder, offering it to you with only a touch of nervousness.

    Spoiler: Letter Contents
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    To the esteemed recipient Tsōlg,

    I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirit, as well as at the proper time. I have a matter I would wish to discuss with you, a matter I believe will suit your temperament and abilities well. I request that you do not spread word of this matter, but I am intending to hire you to perform a task for me that I would rather not be commonly known. As you can doubtlessly guess based on my choice of recipient, I suspect at least the possibility of violence.

    Worry not; I have no intentions of asking you to murder some rival or sully your hands with something similarly despicable. I would prefer to not go into further detail in a letter, so I would request you come to my home in Cliffside this afternoon, specifically at three hours after midday; an address and sketched map are on the next page.

    Do be aware, I have sent a similar letter to several other parties I hope to see there as well. Do not be surprised if you are not the only guest.

    Signed,
    Salvin Overni




    Cecil

    The morning has been long, hard, and painful. From the beginning it started too early, and it hasn't gotten that much better since. But you've gone through this before. As the soldier must rise before dawn and face the howling wind, the oppressive rain, the cold seeping into his bones and be ready to fight again, so too must you meet the day. Only your struggle is probably more difficult. At least driving hail is outside of your head. Far too early in the morning for proper correspondence, someone arrives holding a letter. You recognize him from the day before - someone working for the host. He's too cheery this early to have been invited to the party.

    But the letter. The letter with the noble seal. Unusual. As is the paper. High quality.

    Spoiler: Letter Contents
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    To the esteemed recipient Cecil Sicilia,

    I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirit, as well as at the proper time. I have a matter I would wish to discuss with you, a matter I believe will suit your temperament and abilities well. I request that you do not spread word of this matter, but I am intending to hire you to perform a task for me that I would rather not be commonly known. Specifically, a task requiring your well-known talents at swordplay. This is not a matter that involves musical performances.

    Worry not; I have no intentions of asking you to murder some rival or sully your hands with something similarly despicable. I would prefer to not go into further detail in a letter, so I would request you come to my home in Cliffside this afternoon, specifically at three hours after midday; an address and sketched map are on the next page.

    Do be aware, I have sent a similar letter to several other parties I hope to see there as well. Do not be surprised if you are not the only guest.

    Signed,
    Salvin Overni




    ---

    The streets of Cliffside are emptier than those of the rest of Korvosa at this hour. The winding ways between manor after manor likely trod more often by servants and merchants making deliveries to some wealthy client than the actual residents. While significantly cheaper than Citadel Crest, Cliffside is still much more expensive than the overwhelming majority of Korvosa when it comes to the cost of living. Rent alone costs more than some people need for all of their needs combined, and that's to say nothing of the things one would be expected to buy to fit in with the neighbors. Luckily, you don't have to find a room - merely a manor. The map is helpful, if not detailed, the address offering little more than a general idea of how close you are, given the apparent absurd length of "Cliffside Street". Despite each home being the size of two or more in the poorer areas of the city, the street has at least two dozen along it, and turns enough to make it unclear how many more there might be.

    Still, you do find it eventually. The address is unclear until you're close, but the house's seal, borne by the gates in front of the property, is recognizable from a greater distance. Three men stand at the gate - a pair of bored-looking men in clean armor, each wearing a sword at his belt, and a more well-dressed man who smiles and nods as soon as it's clear you're approaching the gate with purpose. It's with quick, practiced words that he welcomes you, a swift hand that he opens the gate, and a quiet comment on "the flowers - yes, there, at the edge of the path. Please do be careful as you go past," that he brings you to a room inside the manor, where a large table and eight chairs wait.

    The room itself is simple, with large windows looking out into a small garden and a few simple bits of food on the table - bread rolls, and jugs of water. A mug at each chair. Chairs a touch too small for some of you. Doorways that are certainly too small for one of you...

    Spoiler: OOC
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    Go ahead and assume you arrive in order of posting. Once everyone has posted (or on Wednesday) things will move on, assuming there's not an interesting conversation we'd rather not cut short.
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  2. - Top - End - #2
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: The Fire and The Black: Daemonfold [IC]

    "Pulled some strings..." Vesta pondered what exactly that meant. The Field Marshal did not often choose to be as vague as that. She had a cursory glance over the map and the name on the letter before tucking it away until she had been relieved as the Field Marshal had stated.

    Having removed her guard tunic before making her way to the arranged meeting place, she had to pause only a few times to refer to the map as she travelled along the street. Upon arrival, she appraised the guards and man, immediately frowning some at their demeanor.

    Vesta allowed the man to escort her to the meeting room, but chose to remain standing near her chair until everyone had arrived. Eight seats... one for the caller of the meeting... seven others. She wondered if the noble had pulled that many from the guard, or if they would be from other walks of life as well.

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    When Solys gets the letter, she's not terribly surprised or shocked. It's not expected, either, just something that's happened to happen to her. She makes sure to finish up her stock before departing in full gear, fully armed, and fully draped in the colors of Calistria. It would almost be an insult to show up at a nobleman's house without an array of weapons - like you don't think he's dangerous. That's how she's understood it, anyway. Hardcheese tucks herself into the front of her robe, and off she goes.

    When she gets to the house, and the small doorways, she looks to the man who's meant to be escorting her through and scratches her cheek. "Um. One of us has to do something about this."

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    Despite the beautiful morning, Rakinen was not having a good run, and the fact displeased him greatly. He tried to muster a smile for the children in the Midland, encouraging them to run with him as far as they could as he blazed past, but inwardly he was struggling mightily. This always happened at some point as he pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion, but as he tried to break into a brief sprint every few minutes, his legs and lungs protested severely. "Only one more mile to home", he thought to himself. "Harder. You can do this. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot..." Locking himself in against the pain, he pressed on along the shore, the sea on his left and the peak of the Heights on his right. "Left-right-left-right, be strong." Eyes focused on the road ahead, the strange man waving his arms in the middle of the road interrupted his reverie just in time, and he swerved to one side just soon enough to avoid plowing him over. It took a few more steps for him to process that the strange man was actually trying to get his attention, and he staggered to a halt, doubling over as he tried to catch his breath.

    "What is it? What's wrong?" he half-snarled, half-gasped. A moment's conversation made him understand, at least, and he plopped down unceremoniously at the side of the road, opening the scroll immediately. "That's rather odd" he murmured to himself. "Overni, Overni ... where do I know that name?"

    Spoiler: Do I know anything about this guy?
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    Not sure what if any knowledge rolls would be appropriate, so let's try:
    Knowledge nobility: 1d20+2: (1d20+2)[12]
    Knowledge local: 1d20+4: [roll]1d20+4]


    Regardless of the man's intentions, it was evident that the evening's swim was going to have to be moved up. It wouldn't do to walk up to a home in Cliffside drenched in sweat, and to be quite frank if this was another nobleman looking for something to keep a young son occupied, the money would be quite welcome.

    Rakinen jogged, rather than ran, along the north end of the peninsula, took a quick cooling dip in the waters near City Hall, and returned to his rented room near the Old Docks to wring out his only decent set of clothes as best he could. The smell of the ocean waters at least muffled the sweat; it would have to do. He carefully packed his armor in his pack, slung his shield across his shoulder, and arrived about five minutes early to the grounds on Cliffside. "Hello," he said curtly to the guards, "A mister ... (he glanced at the letter one more time) Overni sent for me." Adeptly adjusting his step to clear the edge of the flowerbed at the corner of the path that he hadn't quite noticed, he strode in, taking in the surroundings. Rather than sitting at the tables, Rakinen stood near the corner of the room, swaying gently in place. He eyed the food hungrily, but thought better of it until he knew what this was all about.
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    Spoiler: OOC:
    Show
    Misformatted the knowledge: local roll

    (1d20+4)[15]
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    Solys

    As you arrive at the gates, the guards are paying far more attention than they were before, and seem a bit...tense, as you approach. The other man seems calm and polite, though he does cough before speaking.

    Once inside, he seems rather careful about where to step, and almost goes through the door before stopping to look behind him. "Oh. Oh my. Ah...would it be possible, perhaps, to...?" He bends his knees and seems to be attempting to indicate your head moving below the doorframe as he assumes a posture that looks a touch ridiculous to any already inside the room.

    Rakinen

    The well-dressed man coughs as you say "mister". "Manners, please. Lord Overni. He is of proper birth."
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    Solys watches the man do an odd little dance and furrows her brow. "I don't...I don't think so."

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    Default Re: The Fire and The Black: Daemonfold [IC]

    Quote Originally Posted by PersonMan View Post
    The well-dressed man coughs as you say "mister". "Manners, please. Lord Overni. He is of proper birth."
    "Sorry. Sorry! Yes, of course, of course, thank you. Lord Overni."

    As he stood, uncomfortably, in the corner of the room, he muttered quietly to himself "Rakinen, you idiot, don't blow this. Whatever this is."
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    Solys

    "Perhaps you could, eh, duck? Bend forwards, to pass through?" The man asks, clearly not equipped with the expertise to deal with this sort of issue.
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    "Well...I mean...yes?" Solys adjusts the edges of her robe. "But it doesn't, it, I mean, doesn't it seem, a bit...you invited me..."

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    Overni... I hope Jerrick is not in trouble. Tsōlg muses to himself as he opens and reads the letter, his eyes darting back and forth quickly, efficiently. He does not thank or otherwise acknowledge the messenger before he packs up his belongings to leave and make the trek up to Cliffside. It doesn't take him too long, and soon enough, like the others, he is in front of the gate, inclining his head to the guard and giving his name and purpose succinctly.


    When he arrives at the door, he is met with the.. unusual sight of the rather tall statured person blocking the doorway. A flicker of annoyance crosses over his features.

    "Perhaps you could at least step aside so others can go about their business?" he chimes in from behind both Solys and the guard, his arms crossed. "I'm sure Lord Overni will be stricken with embarrassment because you had to duck your head slightly."

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    "How would you know?" Solys narrows her eyes at the new arrival.

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    Vesta stood inside the room and watched the others as they attempted to assemble. If a simple doorway causes this much trouble, she was in for a long... whatever this was.

    She sighed and looked about in hopes that this lord would be using some other passage to arrive. She also hoped that this 'leave' would not count against her when she wanted real time off.

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    Solys decides that she, too, has had enough of this charade. She reaches up to grab the top of the doorframe, then tears it off along with a chunk of the wall above. She drops it to the side, then walks through thanks to the newly-created hole and stands beside the table.

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    Rakinen had turned just in time to finally notice the very large woman at the door tear through the door frame. He let out an expletive; while his brain was still processing the act, his legs began to move him instinctively toward the door, interposing himself as best he could between her and the servant. As he passed her he said "You -- I remember you -- why did you just -- oh, that was a very very bad idea." To the servant he said "Now don't do anything rash -- I'm sure I can definitely fix that." Another chunk fell from the stone. "I can definitely... maybe... help fix that. I think."
    Last edited by Stelio Kontos; 2017-08-15 at 11:15 AM.
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    The man stares, speechless, as Solys rips a chunk of the wall down, a few syllables coming from him as he looks between the horned woman and the damaged part of the wall, blinking as Rakinen approaches. "I...what?" He looks between him and Solys. "This is...you tore out a part of the wall!" He exclaims. "You could - you could just duck!" For the moment, he seems more incredulous than anything else.

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    Solys glances back at the two incredulous men. "It was like that when I got here."

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    Rakinen spluttered incredulously. "What? No? No, we just saw you do it! Please, why must you lie? Are you insane?"
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    "It was nice of our host to prepare for my arrival." Solys says, softly. Perhaps, if she doubles down on the absurdity, everything will go back to normal and people will stop staring at her.

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    CECIL



    Cecil crested the rise just in time to watch the gigantess tear up Lord Overni's wall on her way in. He found a smile peeking its way through the final clinging tendrils of his hangover. Whatever it was, that this was, it was going to be interesting.

    The letter had confused him. And then scared him a little. Swordplay? Well know? Talents? Cecil could use a sword. Sort of. Maybe. If he had to. Certainly he could stab roasted chicken out of a fire with one. Or wave one about dramatically while talking about how good he was at using one.

    But actual swordfighting? Not so much.

    And then he thought back to maybe.... Midsummer's Harvest? At Magistrate Kunduhn's manor? Wasn't Lady Overni there? He did remember offering his audience a particularly rousing story about the time he escaped certain death from goblins while saving some orphans. And, as he recalled, there might have been some.... slight... exaggeration... of his prowess in that story.

    Slight. Very slight. Barely even an exaggeration at all, really.

    All the same, he was in it now. Which means he had to wing it. Which was good. Winging was pretty much what he did best.

    So the next couple of hours featured, in no particular order:
    • a frantic search for his horses (Roscoe and Sweetberry) and his carriage. He found them all tangled up in a hedge along one fo the public gardens.
    • bailing his lawyer, Sir Pemblebrook, out of the drunk tank, where he was taken for 'disorderly conduct' after having belligerently insisted that, being knighted (by the King Himself, mind) meant was above the law and could urinate where he pleased and, quite frankly, if the clergyman had such tender sensibilities then he was doing a public service by toughening him up.
    • convincing Old Pembles that he could not, in fact, urinate where he pleased, regardless of his title
    • giving Pembles some wine to shut him up
    • going home and frantically putting together just the right outfit, opting at last for a sky-blue silk shirt and hose, his best soft leather jerkin, and his best feathered hat, the one that was so nice to sweep down off his head when he bowed to pretty ladies
    • bowing to pretty ladies
    • sweeping his hat down off his head while bowing to pretty ladies


    And so, at last, he made his way up Cliffside Street in his carriage, driven by Sir Pemblebrook, stopped before the Overni manor, disembarked, and made his way along the path just in time to see the wall get the rough edge of differing-sized race relations.

    "I say!" he calls out to the guard, "I doubt you were aware, but among the Boarpeople Skinwalkers, it is a great insult to be asked to bow one's head. Especially for those with horns. To do with the natural Chain of Being, wherein the animals go head down, and the Skinwalkers head up, you see."

    Having their attention, he bowed, sweeping his hat for all it was worth (and, in all fairness, it was a great hat for sweeping). "And so, by asking such, you risked enraging Lord Overni's personal guest. And the lady herself, not wishing to match insult with insult, took the only route available to her. Alter the wall and then, to avoid insulting her host, pretend it had always been that way."

    A pause. Hat back on head. A bright smile. "I suggest we all go along."

    And so saying he walked up to Solys. "Well met, Milady Boarwalker. It has been too long since we've seen each other. I'm so happy to see our host adequately prepared for your August Presence."

    A slow, deliberate wink at the guards.
    Last edited by truemane; 2017-08-15 at 01:08 PM.
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    Solys feels a breath of relief as she hears Cecil's familiar voice and his swift attempt at covering her tracks for her. The wonderful thing about extrovert friends is that they draw attention away from your mistakes, and he's perhaps the most extro man she's ever met. "Hello, Cecil." She smiles back at him. "It's nice to see you too. I hope you're...in good health?" She asks. Cecil had come up with the phrase, as a way for her to ask if he's recently been beaten up by any of the bullies that so frequently attack an obviously innocent minstrel. Or if he's about to be beaten up. Or is in the process of being beaten up.

    Hardcheese the Hedgehog pokes her ivory nose out of Solys' collar as Cecil arrives, and lets out a happy little squeak. Being just as dreamy as Cecil himself, the Familiar believes they have a lot in common.

  22. - Top - End - #22
    Ogre in the Playground
     
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    Rakinen turned (but not so far as to take his eyes off the woman before him) as Cecil entered. This day just keeps getting stranger, he thought to himself. Like I'm not even here. Maybe he can talk some sense into her.

    Despairing of any way to convince the lunatic of her actions, he went to the servant, pulled him aside to the corner of the room, and whispered "Just... tell your lord that we'll figure out a way to take care of the damage to the wall, one way or another, you have my word. But you'd better tell him about it before he gets in here, or this is going to become an even bigger mess than it is. You do not want your men to try to take this woman on without a lot of help, so if you think you're going to want that, you'd better call them now."
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  23. - Top - End - #23
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    CECIL



    Cecil flashed his brightest smile for his friend and took the opportunity to bow and sweep his hat once again.

    "Impeccable health, Milady Boarwalker, thank you for asking. The only danger to it, in fact, stands here before you." He gestured himself, a little shamefacedly. They'd had several 'discussion's in the past about Cecil's less... sterling habits.

    When he sees Hardcheese poke her head out he gave a little laugh and put one hand in his pocket and pulled out a small red flower with a gold centre. "And for you, O Wandering Lord of the Spirit Lands, I bring an offering."

    And he holds it out to her and twines the stem through her spines to hold it in place. The little critter really liked compliments, but she loved pretty flowers. Cecil thought she was some kind of sublimated desire that Solys had for the trappings of human femininity? But he was only guessing. And it was complicated. And mostly he didn't like to think so much.

    He then turns and addresses the other people present. And he saw he had another opportunity for a bow and a hat-sweep. He did not waste. it.

    "How rude of me! Please accept my most sincere apologies! My name is Cecil Sicilia, Bard, Minstrel, Storyteller, Musician, Entertainer to the Crowned Heads of Golarion. I am here at my lord Overni's behest, as I imagine you are as well. Milady Solys the Boarwalker I know of old. May I have the pleasure of your names?"
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  24. - Top - End - #24
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    Hardcheese happily seizes the flower between her mighty jaws, then ducks back inside Solys' colorful robes. Solys stands to the side and lets Cecil introduce himself, then gives a slight nod as he introduces her. At least she won't have to prepare a healing potion today. Not yet, anyway, as long as the bearded man's whispering to the servant isn't particularly malicious.

  25. - Top - End - #25
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    A conman... It was the first impression Vesta had of the fast-talking man who seemed on familiar terms with the skinwalker. She tilted her head slightly as she stood by her claimed seat. This Solys seemed familiar to her but she couldn't place the towering woman.

    She turned her attention to the man whispering with the servant and spoke. "Is your Lord expecting further guests, or will it be likely that this meeting will begin before midrats?"

  26. - Top - End - #26
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    "That - I," the man seems well and truly off-balance, and is halfway to the other door - the one with the intact wall, that seems to lead further into the house - when Vesta speaks. "Other...Oh. Yes, well, several were invited. But I do believe things should be beginning soon, they're, it's scheduled to begin around now..." the man nods, and heads for the door, turning only at the last moment, seeming ready to speak, before pausing.

    "I'll inform the Lord of your offer," he says, nodding to Rakinen before quickly opening and closing the door, almost as if he were eager to leave the room for some odd reason. The door is closed, you can hear muffled footsteps on the other side. Perhaps a minute passes. Then voices can be heard on the other side of the door, quiet at first, but quickly growing audible to any in the room. Even the details can clearly be heard, without any crowding around the door or putting an ear to the wood.

    "...which is why I still don't see why you've been keeping this from us!" One voice is saying. A woman's voice, clearly somewhat upset.

    "Because this is not a matter that concerns you! I've said so before, and - " the reply is a man, probably older. He doesn't get to finish.

    "Not my concern?!" That one's loud enough to be a shout. "He's my brother!"

    A moment of quiet. Complete silence, before there's a soft sigh. Quiet enough that it's tough to hear from this side of the door.

    "Very well. But we'll ask them if they'll have you - I was intending this to be in confidence," the older man says, and a moment passes. Another few steps and a quieter voice, this one familiar, pipes up.

    "My Lord, please, a moment," it's the servant who had so recently left.

    "It can wait. This has already been postponed enough," the old man replies, and at the same time the door handle shifts down. The door opens, revealing those whose conversation had just been so audible.

    In front is the old man - perhaps in his mid fifties, with graying hair but sharp eyes. His clothing is impeccably clean and is, for those of you who know, abreast of the most recent trends in Korvosan fashion, if a touch more reserved. Just behind him is a young woman, dressed much more casually - her clothes are modest, if visibly high quality, and closely resemble the sort of partially-padded training gear a squire might wear while learning how to use a sword properly. She pauses, clearly surprised by what she sees in the room, her eyes going wide while the older man looks over the room coolly, as if he knew precisely what he would find.

    Yes, even the damaged doorway. Though it does evoke a twitch of his lips, the slightest move towards a smile.

    "Welcome!" He says after a moment, extending his arms to either side and smiling. A touch formal, but it's welcoming nonetheless. "My name is Salvin Overni, lord of the house and head of the Overni family," he says, giving a slight bow. "This is my daughter, Caelia. She has requested to be present for this meeting, if it would not bother any of you," he continues, and the woman offers a smile of her own, seeming to shake off the shock that struck her upon entering the room. She gives a nod after a moment's hesitation.

    Meanwhile, the servant closes the door quietly, standing by it seeming visibly relieved.

    "If it would be no trouble, I would ask of you all to introduce yourselves - unless you have done so to each other already, before my arrival. I fear Caelia and your potential comrades-to-be may not know you as I do," Salvin says, stepping over to a position from which he and everyone at the table can easily see each other. Caelia is at his side.
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  27. - Top - End - #27
    Ogre in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: The Fire and The Black: Daemonfold [IC]

    Tsōlg rolls his eyes at the large person's rather... destructive tendencies and slips in after her, finding a seat and smoothly taking his place in it, following the conversation with narrowed eyes, and an even more exasperated expression when this... dandy walks in to lecture the group on cultural relativism. "If that's the case, her people are easily insulted, and really not worth much respect." he muses out loud, deadpan. That conversation is cut short however, when Salvin walks in.

    "Lord Overni. Good to meet you." he says, nodding his head curtly. "I assume you know me through your son, Jerrick? As for the rest, I am Specialist Tsōlg. A mercenary."

  28. - Top - End - #28
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    Rakinen poured himself a mug of water while listening attentively as Lord Overni spoke, and took a few quick sips. He sighed inwardly at the mention of the word "mercenary" from the hobgoblin. What have I gotten myself into here?

    At his turn, he rose slightly from his chair, arms awkwardly at his side; the white markings on his right forearm were clearly visible against his deeply tanned skin. He bowed slightly as he spoke, a bit too softly for the occasion, "Hello, everyone. My name is Rakinen. Forgive me sir but... you say you know me? I apologize if I've forgotten, but... well, I can't think of any other way to ask it -- how do you know me? I don't think we've ever met before?"
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  29. - Top - End - #29
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    Solys feels a brief urge to be angry at Tsolg's comment, before she remembers that the people Cecil were talking about don't exist. She instead settles into silence as the old man strides in with his daughter in tow, which she doesn't have much of an opinion on. "Solys." She says. Well, that's good enough.

  30. - Top - End - #30
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: The Fire and The Black: Daemonfold [IC]

    The elf remained at a modified parade rest. Her glaive held in one hand with the butt resting on the stone floor astride her boot. Her other hand was held fast at the small of her back. "Vesta Pyralis."

    She left title out, as it did not seem to be the company that would care for such things except the noble himself, who already knew who she was and whom she answered to.

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