Café de Nuit

Lena cast a sidelong glance at Cattia, but did not immediately volunteer said Jarenberg. This was, overall, rather an interesting development, though also one in which Lena did not have an immediate stake.

"Thankee, Freyer," Rojan replies, apparently taking it for granted that this invitation settles the question of whether he and Nuray will be moving on tonight--or at least will delay it. "Bandits on the road, was it, freyer? Whereabouts was that?"



The group, less Cattia, Lena and Ushka, soon find themselves at the sign of the Three Feathers, whose staff is rather thrown into confusion by the arrival of so large and illustrious a party. The group is shown to a large private dining room off the main hall, and the proprietor--Maine ap Fittle, a broad, red-cheeked man with blond hair braided down his back and a cheerful expression--attends you personally. He seems particularly pleased by the request to introduce Altan to uisguebadh, and produces a green-glass jug filled with an amber liquid which he pours into glasses of what at first seem a rather disappointing small size. Giving himself a tot, he raises his glass and salutes Renhalt and Vasili. "Light and life, freyeren," he rumbles. "All fortune in the coming year." He downs his own drink with aplomb, a feat only Altan manages to match. "Now then, freyeren," he says, "we'll treat you well. Take your ease and we'll treat you right."

The food is simple but excellent (fresh bread, mutton stew and savory pies, with mead, red wine and uisguebadh for all), the company relaxed and pleasant, and the servingmen and women of the establishment cheerful. There is a storytelling contest, and at some point in the proceedings Cattia and Lena return, Ushka in tow, and the festivities become general, with toasts (many involving Renhalt and Vasili's totem day) going round the table.

So much has happened that it comes almost as a surprise when Marcel returns with Tara. They are serious, even sombre, and the mood of the gathering changes as they arrive. After an awkward interlude in which the servers realize their presence is not wanted and make their way out, Tara seats herself and says, “Thank you for your kind attention, freiherren, gudmen and gudyfs. I have…” She checks herself, breathes deeply, and continues. “I have a request to make of you. Most especially of you, Freiherr Blackwood, and you, the Jarenbergs, but I would be glad of as much assistance as I can get.”

“Before I make it, perhaps I should tell you of a story which many of you may not have heard—a small part of a long story which has been told many times, in many ways. There is a legend of the Lady of Tears which says that she raised her shield to defend mankind from dark powers, and broke the blow, saving many—perhaps all—of us. But the shield was broken into five pieces. Four of these pieces have been found, and are venerated in shrines—one in the Great Cathedral of Levkarest, one in Land’s-End in Mordent, one in Aix-la-Spadon in southern Dementlieu, and one in Nevuchar Springs.”

She pauses, then continues slowly, “I believe I may know where the fifth can be found, and that I will need help to retrieve it. Will you help me?”

As she speaks she raises her gaze to meet Richard’s, then looks around the room at each of you.

Lena listened to the story with rapt attention, though much of it was focused upon Tara Kolyana's face and manner. Who was this curious Anchorite to make her true-seeing friend go so uncertain, and who had such a powerful dislike for Elena's family? Someone might have said that Lena watched the other woman with the eyes of a fox, and indeed, Ushka had a most similar gaze.

"It would be my pleasure." Lena said, half a heartbeat after Tara stopped speaking. It was important to be the first to say so. She favored Tara with a decidedly vulpine smile before turning her attentions to Renhalt. "What say you, Freiherr Jarenberg, think we can afford a small detour on our mission?"

Gudyf Solak wrote:“Yes, Freyer Isfahani, it is fortunate that we run into you, since my--our business is in service to our master, the Isfahani. I — we have been tasked with recovering a matter of import from the Jarenberg's employ, and I would like to continue on, but Gudman here thinks we will be beset with bandits and beasts. If you could not assist us, Freyer, for surely as cousin your word has some weight in this matter…"

Freiherr Isfahani wrote:"Very well, if my uncle insists, I will aid you in your task. Shall we sit and talk?"

“And, graced as I am with service to this Isfahani and all others, you shall have my aid as well.” Avram smiled, quite sincere. “It is a pleasure, Goodman; Gudyf. I am Avram ben Mansur, hetman of the village of Damar, and retainer to the worthy Freiherr here. I cannot promise any great strength of arms, on my part, but—“ a why shrug “—one does what one can. As you tell Freiherr Isfahani, tell me as well; I am curious to know more.”

********************

Gudyf Kolyana wrote:“I believe I may know where the fifth can be found, and that I will need help to retrieve it. Will you help me?”

Avram kept silent, his face studiously neutral — it being one thing to refrain from forcing the Light and the Law on those who were not yet ready to receive it, and another to go haring off after heathen relics without a rather good reason. Interesting to see how this would shake out, though.

Richard's reaction to the uisguebadh resembled something like a lesser version of his reaction to the cindergout. That being said, he kept returning to it, as if he were trying to check if it still tasted the same, or as if the alcohol in the drink had obliterated his memory of the taste. Soaked in by hot bread and hearty stew, it wasn't that bad, but it was definitely having an effect - at one point in the evening, he'd even become convinced that singing was a good idea. He had a smooth enough baritone, at least, and didn't stutter when he sang.

Nathan of the FoS wrote:She pauses, then continues slowly, “I believe I may know where the fifth can be found, and that I will need help to retrieve it. Will you help me?”
As she speaks she raises her gaze to meet Richard’s, then looks around the room at each of you.

Richard sat up straight the moment the priestess entered the room, uisguebadh and merriment placed aside. She hardly needed any effort to catch his eyes, for they were locked on her now, his cheeks already slightly flushed from liquor. Whatever had vexed him about the woman earlier in the day, it had not abated upon second viewing.

"My companions, I-I-I believe, may have business elsewhere," he explained softly to the pair, having missed the Rashemani duo's errand. "But I-I-I am at your service, dommra." He placed his palms on the table and bowed.

*************Previously***************

Nerit wrote:"we have been tasked with recovering a matter of import from the Jarenberg's employ,

Preparing to leave, Cattia glanced disapprovingly at the newcomer, and showed little interest in the conversation. She was halfway to the door when her family name was mentioned, and she turned on her heel. She listens to the rest of Nuray's words, and speaks: "May I enquire what you are referring to, with the Jarenberg? What is this matter of import?"

*************Currently***************

Nathan of the FoS wrote:There is a storytelling contest, and at some point in the proceedings Cattia and Lena return, Ushka in tow, and the festivities become general, with toasts (many involving Renhalt and Vasili's totem day) going round the table.

After a toast to "A brother who remembers his sister's totem day when her parents did not," Cattia presents her brother with an envelope containing her gift.

*************Immediately***************

Nathan of the FoS wrote: “I have a request to make of you. Most especially of you, Freiherr Blackwood, and you, the Jarenbergs, but I would be glad of as much assistance as I can get.”

She pauses, then continues slowly, “I believe I may know where the fifth can be found, and that I will need help to retrieve it. Will you help me?”

As she speaks she raises her gaze to meet Richard’s, then looks around the room at each of you.

Cattia exchanges glances with Renhalt, then surveys Tara with caution, even skepticism. "Why do you want our help? What do you want from the Jarenberg?"

Vasili allows the festivities to draw him out. Apart from a handful of overly literal comments--many of which are interpreted as jokes by the staff--his conversation is natural, and his smile is genuine. Thus it is, that when Marcel returns with Tara, Vasili is caught in a moment of genuineness, and struggles to renew his halfwitted affect, to no avail. Ironically, in his failure to appear distant and flustered, he is genuinely flustered, and even a little distant--whether or not anyone observing can tell the difference is another matter.

Nathan of the FoS wrote:“I believe I may know where the fifth can be found, and that I will need help to retrieve it. Will you help me?”

"Yes--" Vasili blurts instantly, then looks at the others, especially Cattia and Renhalt. "Yes, I've heard that story as well, especially in correspondence with my family. The other shards being found caused quite a stir in their respective regions, and I imagine the discovery of the mythical fifth shard would draw even more attention than any of the others, perhaps even combined." He exchanged a quick look with Renhalt.

Revka et al wrote:Cattia exchanges glances with Renhalt, then surveys Tara with caution, even skepticism. "Why do you want our help? What do you want from the Jarenberg?"

"Yes, you did mention the Jarenberg specifically," Vasili said, trying to appear like he was still dubious. "Why do you need their help above that of the Isfahani, or even the Baroness von Zarovich? Is it on Jarenberg land?" He looked askance at Cattia. "Now that would be something to write home about."*

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Bluff (Innuendo) +22 to send Cattia a secret message.
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Previously

Nuray eyed Cattia levelly with a polite "Freyif," before she answered Avram and Altan.

"Hetman, yes, we heard you might be about as well. I am glad to meet you." She smiled briefly at the old man. "Our Landsherr has lent a Vossath Nor artifact to foreign scholars in the Jarenberg lands, and we've come to fetch it back. It's quite small, but we will know it when we see it. Because the Isfahani wants it back, I must presume it is important."

The young Rashemani tilted her head as she considered something, but said nothing of it.


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Slightly Closer to Presently

She sat between Avram and Rojan during the festivities and said little. Her black braids framed a neutral face as she gazed at Those Above Her Station enjoying themselves. It was clear they would not make it to their destination yet.

Yet her lip quirked up into a smirk when she heard an inebriated Richard sing, and she clapped at the fanciful stories.


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Presently

At first Nuray seemed a little shocked at the anchorite's appearance -- bright red hair of fire and green vestments. She quickly blinked it away, however.

She leaned toward Avram and made significant glances. What kind of holy artifacts were these, exactly? Not claimed of the Iron Lord? She kept her brow raised, curious. (Foreigners were proving to be interesting.)

_____________

Anyone is free to roll on Nuray for emotions or whatever you like, but I'm not doing anything mechanical.

[quote="Nathan of the FoS"]

Tara looks as if this range of responses is more or less what she expected. "I want...I need your help because I doubt very much I can find and retrieve it alone."

She stops, looking at her hands, crossed on the table--long-fingered and elegant, but tanned and callused as well--before continuing. "Let me start with the outlander."

He came about a month ago. A little less. He was very weak, very ill, when one of my flock found him a little to the west of here on the banks of the Musardin, following the river upstream. She brought him to her family's home and they called me to him. He could not speak any tongue I know except by use of arcana, and even with the Lady's grace acting as our interpreter much of what he said was hard for me to understand."

He told me he had been swept up in a mist and brought to this land. I have heard many tales of such, of course, but I have only met two others in my life who claimed such a thing. He knew nothing of Ezra, but was fascinated by the Lady's sigll." Gesturing to her garment, decorated by a sword and shield overlaid by a spring of belladonna. "When I asked him about it, he told me that he had seen a piece of ivory, very beautiful but broken, with part of this same pattern in raised relief on it. He drew it for me, and I saw immediately that the shape and size that would complete the Shield of Ezra as we know it." Taking a piece of paper from her pocket, she lays it on the table. "You see. Here is the piece on the left hand side that was found in Borca. The upper edge of the shield, in Mordent, the lower, in Dementlieu, and the right hand side in Darkon. Leaving the center, with most of the Lady's belladonna. What he described to me was just the size and shape to fit the other four together."

I asked him any number of questions about it, of course, and he did his best to answer. The more I learned, the more convinced I became that it was the true Shield of Ezra he had seen, and the more I learned the more I realized I could not hope to get it unaided. I took my thoughts and prayers to Holy Ezra, and she...she assured me I should seek it, and that she would send me aid."

She looks at Marcel, then at Richard, and then at Cattia, Renhalt and Vasili. "Freiherren Jarenbergs, it is to be found on land your family may claim now, and probably has claimed at some point in the past, although your writ must run very thin so far west. That is one reason I want your help. Another is that this thing is supremely valuable, to me and to others, and there are any number of people who would be willing to steal it or kill for it if they knew of its location. Your uncle the Jarenberg is the only legitimate authority I can reach who I trust to have both the power to secure it and the honor not to simply steal it once it comes into his power, if he has promised to give it up."

"How very curious." Lena said, stroking Ushka's back as she considered this. No wonder Richard kept staring at Tara. "A logistical question, if I may -- supposing the relic is obtained, it certainly can't stay in Hazlan. Have you considered how you'll get it back to an Ezran cathedral capable of holding it properly?"

Gudyf Solak wrote:She leaned toward Avram and made significant glances. What kind of holy artifacts were these, exactly? Not claimed of the Iron Lord? She kept her brow raised, curious.

Avram made significant glances back, to the effect of: <The artifacts are probably only ‘holy’ in the subjective sense of the word, but you know how foreigners get, right? The Lawgiver must’ve put all those people on the world for some reason. Still, she seems a nice enough sort, so let’s try not to offend her too badly.>

It was quite a complex thought to communicate with significant glances, but he did a decent job. Even managed to avoid eye-rolling, for politeness’ sake.

Gudyf Kolyana wrote:"Freiherren Jarenbergs, it is to be found on land your family may claim now, and probably has claimed at some point in the past, although your writ must run very thin so far west. That is one reason I want your help. Another is that this thing is supremely valuable, to me and to others, and there are any number of people who would be willing to steal it or kill for it if they knew of its location. Your uncle the Jarenberg is the only legitimate authority I can reach who I trust to have both the power to secure it and the honor not to simply steal it once it comes into his power, if he has promised to give it up."

“Respectfully, Gudyf…some among our number may be entrusted with a task on behalf of the Isfahanis.” Avram spoke slowly, measuring his words — something in the anchorite’s description had sparked an interest. “Yet, still, it is good to know more of this. Who is this outlander, and in what way did he find the sigil? And where, on Jarenberg lands — if indeed you can say at this time?” He glanced around indicatively; they were in public, after all.

"I have thought on that, Baroness," Tara says politely but coolly. "But such plans will take some time to realize, and I wish to act as soon as possible." To Avram, she replies, "I have no wish to keep any one of you from his duty, gudman. Or hers. I realize…I am importunate, and that few of you have any obvious reason to assist me. But I must ask you, and so I do."

The anchoress looks around the table again, her expression strangely calm. She, at least, seems to have no doubt whatsoever that Ezra has sent you, or some of you, to help her at this hour of need.

"The outlander's name was Soldris, gudman. He has passed into the arms of our Lady." She looks at her hands again before raising her gaze and continuing. "He told me more than once that he was a young man, as young as most of you at this table, but when I met him he might almost have been your father, Goodman ben Mansur. He died a fortnight ago. Of, as it seemed to me, old age." She pauses, draws a steadying breath, and then says, "He told me that he saw the Shield of Ezra in a catacombs while searching for a portal back to his own land. By all he told me, it must have been the catacombs beneath Castle Tristenoira."

Altan inwardly glared daggers at Avram when the hetman cut in. These Rashemani were unusually uppity. However, if Nuray did represent the Isfahani patriarch, Altan had an obligation to assist. After the Red Academy, he had learned well the value of cooperation with family.

"We will speak on this loan repayment at length later," he said. "But in my uncle's name, I will offer my aid."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later, he sat around the table, partaking of large amounts of uisguebadh and half-listening to stories.

"The Isfahani would like to offer their aid in retrieving this artifact," Altan said, "provided that is the Jarenberg's will."

"...Castle Tristenoira." Lena said flatly, giving Tara Kolyana a look that was probably best described as a glare. "As in, goblyn-infested, ghost-haunted Tristenoira, likely the most dangerous place in the Core after Il-Aluk and Mt. Lament in Keening? That Castle Tristenoira? Of course. Of course it would be in that Castle Tristenoira."

"I will note that the victims of ghosts often seem to have died of old age. The combination of infirmity, dementia, and extreme fear does the trick. So that's what likely happened to your hapless Soldris." Lena said, pinching the bridge of her nose. There was another fact to be considered here, of course, one that she wasn't about to volunteer in this gathering. Though with Renhalt, later perhaps.

Vasili listens intently to the story of the outlander who brought the story of the shard to Tara. He leans in close to look at the drawing, and--if Tara will allow it--traces his hand over the paper, committing the shape to memory.

I took my thoughts and prayers to Holy Ezra, and she...she assured me I should seek it, and that she would send me aid."

"Divine providence must have brought us together," Vasili agrees. "I have no doubt of that. It's possible we need you as much as you need us."*

She looks at Marcel, then at Richard, and then at Cattia, Renhalt and Vasili. "Freiherren Jarenbergs, it is to be found on land your family may claim now, and probably has claimed at some point in the past, although your writ must run very thin so far west. That is one reason I want your help.

Vasili's eyes widen. "How far west?" he asks no one in particular.

Your uncle the Jarenberg is the only legitimate authority I can reach who I trust to have both the power to secure it and the honor not to simply steal it once it comes into his power, if he has promised to give it up."

Vasili exchanges another round of looks with Renhalt and Cattia, willing them to see this the same way he did.

"I have thought on that, Baroness," Tara says politely but coolly. "But such plans will take some time to realize, and I wish to act as soon as possible."

"That's wise, of course, but if anyone else know about this, then we ought to expect an ambush after we recover it. That's the easiest way to get it--let us do the hard part, and then steal it. And the easiest way to avoid that is by getting reinforcements ready. Have you sent word to the Home Church? I have several cousins among the clergy that I know are trustworthy. I can send word to have a discreet band ready to escort us back to safety."

She pauses, draws a steadying breath, and then says, "He told me that he saw the Shield of Ezra in a catacombs while searching for a portal back to his own land. By all he told me, it must have been the catacombs beneath Castle Tristenoira."

Vasili stops short, and his eyes bulge. "That's...ah..." He looks at Renhalt. "Well, that's...more north than west....That's more, ah, whose territory would that be, Renhalt? Would that be the Thott? The Warrowdine? Yeah, the Warrowdine would be the ones to claim ownership. Nowhere near as trustworthy, but then there's always that...ambush...stratagem...." He trails off lamely and his eyes drop to the ground. His countenance sags, and he looks around the room again. Tara, Altan, Richard. Three divine spellcasters. That might just be enough to get them inside the castle. How many would it take to get them out again?

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* Bluff (Innuendo) +22 to send another message to Cattia.

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