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| - Blackfox just goes silent at Aeseyri's words, her blush hidden by the darkness as she looks down at her boots. Varal snorts. "You are musing on something I do not believe exists. I was not directly hurt by it, no. There was once a little Duchess, and she had spent to much time in seclusion. When her father deemed her old enough to return, she met a mercenary - a ducal guardsman - and he caught her fancy. She decided to marry him, quoting love and all the like, but he was afraid - thought it a stupid choice on her part. And so he let her go, broke her heart, and within a month she was married to another man, happy as could be." Varal shakes his head, amused at his story. "The Light is precious and tangible. Love is just fleeting nonsense, thinking with your genitals and reaching for justification." Aeseyri shakes his head, speaking gently. "the Light isss love. It isss bravery in the darknesss becaussse there isss sssomething worth facsssing it for, it isss gentlenesss in the facssse of hurt, it isss underssstanding in the facssse of anger." He regards Varal with an odd expression, head tilting, "Her breath isss warmth, her wingsss guard, her clawsss protect. Love isss more than you sssay it isss." A nice cold night outside. No rain now, unlike the previous night, and Lucius Nepos comes out again to enjoy it. His step has some purpose to it, though - he makes his way for the group. Celeste remains quietly listening. Not just to her Mikin cousin, but the very words of the syladris bringing a faint smile. "I...I would far rather be with someone I love than someone who was chosen for me because of station or politics," Fox says, agreeing timidly with Aeseyri. Varal blinks at Aeseyri and his reply is almost a growl. "The Light is not some Shadow damned Dragon with wings and breath and love and teeth and righteousness and claws. It is not some personified power or a beast. To worship a dragon, a forsaken dragon!, as the Light . . ." The Mikin trails off, forcing calm. "Forgive me, I understand it is common amongst your people, and gaining popularity here. But, as far as I am concerned, it is a disgusting and evil practice that undermines the Light as a whole. I make no claims at being a priest, but my vision tinges with red at the comparison." "It isss sssad that you think ssso." Aeseyri is sad, and it shows, in the subtle shift of coil, in that oddly gentle expression. "Becaussse it isss your anger that doesss not sssee all that ssshe isss." Quietly, he points out - "Wordsss are not enough to dessscribe the Light - but you of thisss wall of fear put ssso much worry in them. Ssso much that you cannot ssseee passst them - it isss fear. And it isss much fear you carry." "Evening." Lucius says to the bunch. "While philosophy is certainly nice to speak about, I've something a bit more concrete for you. Did you speak to Sahna, any of you, today?" Asks the soldier with a hard gaze, frown tugging at those lips. As he speaks he reaches up with a gauntleted hand to scratch somewhere under his large pauldrons. Celeste looks over towards Lucius, rather rapt in the discussion. She only shakes his head, "No, I haven't, master Nepos." Blackfox puts a hand on Aeseyri's arm, a silent gesture of support as she looks at Varal but says nothing. "I am well aware that words cannot describe the Light, but Dragons are evil creatures and using one to describe the Light causes me pain. And, trust me, I can see past words - otherwise we would not be talking. Otherwise, the relationship I have with Celeste here would be very different. Yes?" Varal says, tone mild and very much under control. He glances towards Lucius and nods. "No, Master Nepos, I have not talked to her in a day or so. Why, new news?" Aeseyri still watches Varal - but it is fox's touch that, oddly enough, seems to prevent the syladris for reaching out to the man. He looks to her, blinking and then puts his arm around her shoulders.. the Naga then looking to Lucky, curious. "Well, we found the cave. We went scouting yesterday, and we found the cave. Or at least, we found /a/ cave that may very well house those bloody abominations. It's the right direction of those screams we heard out here last night. We didn't go in and check it out. We scouted the outside, and I can't remember a cave every being there before. We must gather a party. Not for tonight, necessarily - but we must gather one none the less." Says Lucius gravely. Celeste straightens up to this claim. "... cousin? I'm not sure I understand what you mean," she replies and looks back to Lucius. "And are you sure that it is their cave, Master Nepos? There's a great many dangers in the wilds, though I am heartened to hear that you did not enter." "How far?" Blackfox asks softly, still standing by Aes. Varal laughs softly. "You have a giant glass dragon in your chapel, cousin, last I checked," the older Mikin notes before becoming grave and looking at Lucius. "Oh? Where is it, exactly? Good that we have Sahna. And good that you have your shield - you'll need it." Aeseyri simply... listens. What else is there? Though he does keep that arm around Blackfox's shoulders. "It doesn't matter if it's there cave until we explore the damned place. Of course I'm not sure, but it was the right direction from where the sounds were coming from, Lady Celeste. It has to be explored with a proper party. The party must be disciplined. There must be a chain of command, and whoever is voted leader must have some experience in such matters. If you don't have a chain of command, you devolve into a bunch of adventurers who do not act efficiently in the heat of a moment. And it must be done soon. The longer we wait, the more time these creatures have to kidnap and make more gargoyles." Nepos's green blue eyes shift from figure to figure, holding eye contact for a few seconds with each of them before moving on. "It must be a powerful party, so as to be able to properly fight anything inside this cave. Maybe it is what we're looking for. Maybe not. We know not until we enter." He looks at Blackfox. "Half an hour's ride or so to the northwest, but I'll have to show you. Quite near to the Ashlands. It's the path the Prince and Vhramis took several years ago, when they were on their journey to the Refuge, as a small hamlet. We must gather a party before we move. Us five are not sufficient to be safe." Celeste arches a brow, just listening for the moment. She then turns to address Fox. "The duke mentioned they were digging, yes? Were you there when they discussed this matter?" Then a dart of her glance to Varal. "Symbols of Light, from that of the Mark to that of the Refuge, cousin. It has its place in teaching, but as Master Nepos said, we need to address the gargoyles. There is only one flaw to the logic from what I can tell, but it would not keep from fighting them." Blackfox frowns, "North through the Everborne fields, just on the eastern edge of the Ashlands?" Blackfox asks. "You mean the old bear cave there?"\ There's a simple nod from Varal to Celeste, then his attention is exclusively on Lucius. "Aye, a chain of command is essential. Last time that nearly cost Master Firelight and his wife their lives. But, competent people, well. We can take Celeste or Norran, but most likely not both." Celeste receives a sheepish grin. "Norran is skilled, but more a discipline problem, as well, unless he is in charge. Sahna will be good to have, just in case we need her abilities - but a liability if this cave contains only gargoyles. Vhramis Wolfsbane is a good man, and a good fighter. Myself, if you will have me, is competent enough. Perhaps Firelight, depending on if he's healed and if you can convince him not to play hero. . ." The Mikin pauses for a moment as he stops rattling off names. "We could try to see if we could get help from the Watch, or from the Prince of the Blood. I can bring along some of my Torchbearers, and perhaps we could borrow some of the Northreach militia if we discuss with Duhnen. There are also a couple of young men looking to prove themselves - Godric Lomasa and Gefrey Seamel - who we could bring, but I do not know if they are entirely trustworthy or competent enough. Or, even if they can leave the Aegis yet. Did you have anyone else in mind?" Indeed, the syladris still just listens, coils shifting - no other real motion. Just that slow moving of scales. "Is that what it is? It is a cave. This is what I was looking for, a cave. I did not look into it to see whether it was a bear cave or not. Nor does that matter - the Gargoyles could have just as easily inhabited an already existing cave and dug from there." Answers Lucius. He shakes his head at Varal. "No Watch. Don't even bother - this is not an Imperial mission and it will take too long to muster them. They need to go through bureaucracy, rememember, because nobody is a Knight." At this a tiny frown tugs his lips down, but only for a moment. Then he says, "That should do it. I'd like to get Wolfsbane involved. He knows the Wildlands well. If we can find him. And obviously, those assembled here, if they want to come." "I can probably find Wolfsbane. He's been doing a bit of scouting for me," suggest Celeste softly. She looks about the gathered group and then back to Lucius. "The duke may wish to send some of his men, if not come himself. They bear a threat to those who are blessed and touched." "It seems you have more than enough," Blackfox says quietly, "And we would only get in your way." "... ssss." It's oddly like a stifled laugh, from Aes, as he tries to keep a straight face. Mostly succeeds, too. Varal blinks at Blackfox and then shrugs. "Only if the cave is small. Frankly, Blackfox, few of us are allowed to venture in the WIldlands still. We will need your help. Not many people I know who can shoot a bow as well as you." Nepos's thoughts appear to be racing judging by the contemplative look on his face. Still, he speaks. "Try to keep it quiet. Dukes and Duchesses are not ordinarily ones who leave Fastheld. It'd be best if a big scene was not made of this, for politics sake. Personally, I could care less about politics - but I am the lowest ranking member of a possible party, so it's not my decision. THat's another reason we don't want to involve officials. We'll see what we can see." Lucius shrugs his heavily armoured shoulders at Blackfox. "It's up to you. The Refuge has it's own problems which will require your talents, I understand. This bear cave you're talking about, it was by a well tread path? What was in it?" Celeste clears her throat soft but firmly. "To my knowledge, Master Nepos. It was the Refuge who was dealing with the affairs of the gargoyles even before we knew of their existence. Since they've a better understanding of the lands, and the situation.. it may be wise to have their counsel." Aeseyri abruptly uncoils, moving suddenly for the Wildlands beyond the north gate, wearing a wry and amused smile. He dons his helmet as he moves, careful of his horns, studiously paying no attention to the guard following his passage. "I hope you will forgive me if I find it difficult being insulted and then being asked to help in the same breath," Blackfox says quietly, looking up at the men. "As one of those disorganized and undisciplined adventurers you spoke of who gained you the information you have so that you know what to expect, it is awkward, aye?" She sighs, "As to what is in the bear cave I believe you have found?" She blinks, "Bears, though it may have changed as you said, but I have always known it to be a relatively shallow cavern with sloth of bears within." She takes a breath, this huntress of usually few words, "But pride is not an issue here, so aye, I will..." she stops as Aeseyri suddenly slithers off, turning to run after him. Yes, but if they don't wish to come then I'm not going to force them to come, Lady Mikin. That's not our place, either." Lucius says towards Celeste, blinking. "I would also prefer to have Wildlanders along. You must have misunderstood me." He does not smile, but does look curiously over to Aeseyri. Then his green blue eyes cast a gaze to Blackfox. "If I did not say your name, I did not mean you. Nor did I mean your party. A rigid command structure is the best way to prevent the party being dragged in every which way. Please ,don't take offense, because I was not aiming anything at you, Blackfox." Varal tilts his head at Blackfox and smirks a moment. "Undisciplined and poorly organized is correct, though, if you think about it objectively. Granted, I fit that category as well, and saw how it is problematic," the Mikin states at the fleeing Wildlander, not necessarily afraid to offend. Celeste also gets a curious look. "Cousin, Fastheld has dealt with gargoyles since before there was a Refuge." "As I said, Master Nepos, it was not a calling of name that was the insult," explains Celeste. "But there is still there is the flaw... if we cannot kill all of the gargoyles within a short time frame. They will re-double their hunting efforts." Varal looks back towards Celeste and frowns. "Well, looks like trouble has found us again, cousin." Celeste leans back against the wagon and tries to summon her most brilliant smile for her cousin. Not that it doesn't seem strained and a bit rigid. "But what would like be like without trouble, Varal?" "Relaxing," Varal mutters simply in response. "Ahh, but then you will grow round in the middle," Celeste reaches out to and might really well poke him in the side until sense seems to rule out. "Gargoyles hunt until they've the set number again, and then it is believe they will stop." Sahna strides along the path from Northreach, tightening her fur-lined cloak with her free hand. Underneath her arm, she carries a rolled up peice of leather. "I'm getting too old for this, Celeste. I'm knotted with scars. I would not mind getting round in the middle, let some young man with a head full of steam and glory take over Light's Watch and the Torchbearers. Sit my ass down in Wedgecrest, make some babies, and enjoy myself," Varal states. "Instead, I'm off saving mages from their own stupidity and lunging at shadows in every corner." "And have you stopped long enough to find this woman, cousin?" Celeste questions, and then shakes her head. "You've a warrior's spirit. that is why do you do it. To sit in a keep, and one you yourself call too soft, is not true to such a heart." Lucius Nepos has been silently observing the skies for a little while as Varal and Celeste talk, looking out to the Wildlands. Spotting Celeste and Varal, Sahna strides towards them with a bright expression-- The topic, or what she catches of it, causes her sable eyebrows to shoot upwards into high orbit. Slowing, although perhaps not the stealthiest sort, she shamelessly tries to eavesdrop on the reply. Varal smirks. "I will tell my heart what it wants, and not have it dictate things to me." As Sahna, approaches, he smirks in her direction, nodding. "Evening, Sahna. Lucius here was telling us about a cave." Celeste laughs and straightens up at the arrival of the duchess. "Evening, Sahna," she calls out and looks back to her cousin. "Well then, when you tell it to have babies, let me know." "Or what we know not about the cave. Evening, Duchess." Lucius turns to Sahna, offering a bow from the neck. "Before the Wildlanders got offended by something and went off to cry." Sahna shoots Varal an irritated look. "Aren't I allowed to sneak up on anybody?" She asks, grinning. Assuming Varal doesn't move off, she reaches up to ruffle his hair. "If you've a mind towards babies, you ought to ask Rowena to find you a woman. You need one to make 'em." She adds the last deadpan words in a tone of confidentiality. "Believe it or not, the Light doesn't bring them with the morning sun and drop them on the hearth rug." Varal chortles at Sahna, allowing her to mess up his hair - though it's short enough that it doesn't cause much of a problem. "I figure some nice, plump, fertile young noble lady would be quite happy to take care of my keep and pump out little Mikins. Maybe you have a Nillu I could borrow for that?" Celeste merely shakes her head. The motely group lingers near the wagon from the wildlands. Though Lucius receives a disapproving look. "Master Nepos, there were no tears shed, but maybe you should think upon your own words... But, the hour grows late, and my tongue sharp." "My dear, we are Nillus. For the right price we can find you anything." Sahna responds, although her smile is somewhat wry. "The wildlanders left? I wanted to meet the snake people. Did you get the map I sent around, Lucius?" Gefrey Seamel steps into the gate from Northreach, alongside Tor, frowning as he looks around. "The Wildlanders have left?" he asks, largely to himself, at the moment. "I did. It's tucked away in my pouch. Thank you for that." Lucius says quickly. He looks at Celeste blankly. "No, but there almost were. It's not my problem if she took something that had no relation to her as a personel insult. I didn't aim it at her, I aimed it more at the idiots we have in Fastheld." As mentioned, Tor steps in alongside Gefrey, peering about. "Hm. It does appear so," he mutters. Spots the wagon though, and the group. "Perhaps they would know." "You did miss a snake-person, in argentite plate, no less. Granted, he and I did not get along that well. I had...ideas concerning the Light," Varal responds with a shrug. "You might be able to catch them, if they linger outside. But, um, what is the going price on Nillu brides these days, Sahna?" "Tor, Baron Seamel, hello!" Sahna calls out, before pulling the leather roll out from under her arm. She holds this out to Celeste. "It's a copy of the same map. I made two, but if anyone wants more they can hire a scribe." Her gaze slides towards Varal, lips twitching in either amusement or bemusement. "That depends if you're looking for a bargain or a deluxe model. Fat and fertile, anything else?" Celeste laughs ruefully. "It was taken that you saw them foolish for the fight they've been waging while we remain here in the walls, Master Nepos. Those people are rather brave for what they've been able to accomplish outside of the Aegis." Gefrey Seamel smiles faintly as he makes his way to the wagons, then bows to Sahna. "Ahh, good evening, your Grace, my Lord, my Lady. I apologize if we intrude. We were merely looking for a word with the wildlanders." He glances to the wagons. "And these /are/ theirs, so they'll likely be back, I imagine." Varal rubs his chin. "Tell me about the deluxe model," he says with a snort, amused. His eyes flick towards Celeste momentarily. "If I could get a copy, cousin, I would appreciate it - if possible." He gives Tor and Gef a nod, but does not seem interested in them beyond that. Lucius Nepos grits his teeth and locks his jaw - specifically at Celeste. He doesn't say anything in return, just shakes his head several times in succession. He nods respectfully to the two new nobles. "Your Grace," Tor greets Sahna witha bow before inclining his head towards the other two. "My Lady, my Lord." Nods back to Lucius as well. "Seems everyone wants copies, cousin." Celeste combs a hand through her hair. "But I can see about penning another set while I continue my research." "Then, I suppose, there's little to be done here," Gefrey says with a frown. "In the morning, perhaps. I'll let you try and have your word, Tor." He steps off to the side, eyes closing and a hand going to his temple. "What research? We need to form a party and go look in this cave. If it is as Blackfox says, then we will find nothing. If it is not, then we will find something." Lucius shakes his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you want to waste more time on research, Lady Celeste. This is a matter of utmost urgency." His jaw hangs open, a little bit. Tor Nillu blinks at Lucius's words, an eyebrow going right up. "...You would do well to watch your tongue, Master..." he snaps, pausing and then shrugging, leaving it at that. Gefrey just gets a distracted nod. "The deluxe model? Well, she won't be cross-eyed and her nose won't be too large, unless you find that attractive..." Sahna replies, grinning wickedly at Varal. "Well, how about this: Robust health, sturdy but feminine build, agreeable and good-natured with a fondness for scads of children. You'd probably want someone without much ambition or emotional baggage.. Basically, the opposite of me." When Lucius speaks of going to the cave, Sahna regards him with a more somber expression. "How many people do you think would need to go?" "Not everything is resolved with a sword and brute force. Otherwise you would realize what I said earlier. If we do not make a concerted effort to dispose of *all* the gargoyles, they will only strengthen their own hunting. Where one may go out now, it will be answered by three or, Shades, possibly more," sighs Celeste. She pushes away from the wagon and bows to Varal. "I believe that I should seek my rest. Perhaps tomorrow I can have those parchments ready for you." Lucius Nepos bows his head at Tor. "Of course, m'lord. I get heated easily." His expression does not invert, but it regains composure, lips pressing into a neutral line. "No, but sitting in a study doesn't resolve /anything/, Lady Celeste. I am informed as to how they work; if we destroy some of them, then their ability to gather new people is impeded while they make more. It's destroying supplies, in essence. Even if these supplies will regenerate, it is a far better strategy than sitting on one's haunches. M'lady. I defer to your judgement, of course." His hands open and close, open and close. He adds for Sahna, "I've no idea, your Grace. Eight to ten?" Gefrey Seamel looks over to the conversation between Sahna, Lucius and Celeste frowning to himself. "Perhaps now is not a good time for that, though," he notes quietly to Tor." Varal's eyes twinkle as he looks towards Tor. "Careful, M'lord, Master Nepos is not a man to be trifled with. You will be hard pressed to find a more skilled or experienced soldier in one piece in the realm." He nods to Celeste. "Good evening, cousin. Hunting is well and all, but we do need to work for ourselves here first, as well. The gargoyles need to go." The Mikin's attention is quick to return to Sahna. "Ah. And you would be the priceless super-deluxe model? A little ambition never hurt anyone, though. Otherwise, why would they marry an old Count like me?" Something in his voice, though, says that he understood the message. Tor Nillu nods again to Gefrey, Lucius now ignored as if he were a speck of dust on someone else's clothes. He bows towards Celeste. "Rest well, my Lady. Perhaps I could crave a moment of your time in the coming days, at your leisure." "Thank you, my lord," Celeste says to Tor, and looks back to Lucius. "It's understanding my adversary, Master Nepos. Light guide and protect." She steps away from the group and turns back towards the south and Northreach. Lucius Nepos shakes his head at Varal. "No, Lord Varal, I was out of place, the young Lord here is correct. Whether I know or not, it's not important. I am not in a position to be treating better blood in such a way." Whether he actually truly believes this isn't really percievable on his face or in his voice. He says to Celeste, "I apologize, m'lady. Light keep." "You're not old... Well, perhaps in mind, since you're a cranky old soldier waiting to happen, but Felomar Mikin, now he was old." Sahna replies, tapping at her cheek. "Who was that bouncy big-breasted girl he was going to marry? The one with the lisp that always made me want to start flinging knives?" She ruffles Varal's hair once again and adds, "I'm not the deluxe model. I'm the damaged goods on the back shelf." Hands in her pocket, Tyder strides purposefully up the little path leading toward the northern gate, passing through the main checkpoint and moving toward the wagons. However, she draws to a pause as she spies the large group of nobility simply /lingering/, and hesitates. With a slight frown, she glances behind her shoulder and then back to the group, obviously trying to decide whether to flee or stay. Gefrey Seamel perks up as he notices the wildlander walking in. "Ahh, and there is one of them," he says, a bit grimly. "Excuse me, mistress," he calls out, walking over to Tyder. "A word." Tor Nillu inclines his head towards Lucius, just slightly, a measure of 'yes, I have heard your words'. And then approaches Sahna, staying respectfully far enough away to let her notice him in her own time. Varal winces as he look towards Sahna. "Keep doing that, it might fall out. Then you will just charge me more. . ." The wince quickly becomes a grin. "Don't know who that was, but I can fling a mean knife if I have a mind to do so, so let us not include women who I want to kill." There is a thoughtful look. "Shelved? You come at a discount? I could use the money and get a damn good mistress." Tyder's eyes widen a bit at being addressed, and with such attitude too. Still, she frowns slightly and advances, one eyebrow rising. "Yes?" she murmurs to Gefrey before looking beyond him and toward the rest near the wagons. "You should probably warn your friends not to linger too close to the wagons; they will begin to smell here very soon of slaughtered Wildlings, and I would hate for them to track it on their fine clothing." Lucius Nepos shakes his head, turning to walk out towards the Wildlands side of the gate, his face finally revealing some frustration in expression. He nods at Tyder on his way. Gefrey Seamel smiles grimly. "Well-noted," he says. "But right now, I have a quick question for you. There is a rather tall mage, with a glowing lute and incredibly self-important attitude. He is the ambassador for Crown's Refuge, is he?" Sahna lowers her hand, shaking her head with equal measures of, once again, amusement and bemusement. She seems to search for words for a moment, then fail to find something sufficiently nonchalant. So, instead, she pounces on a subject change. "Tor! Come on over here, no need to hang back. Have you m et everyone here yet--...?" Gefrey's words grab at her attention. "Taran Songbird?" "Master Songbird," Tyder replies, her frown turning upward into a very amused smirk. "And yes, he was elected to the Ambassador's position by the Archon. Did you seek an audience with him? He has been quite busy studying what he can about gargoyles and watching over the cave, but I can send word to him..." The smith trails off, glancing over to Sahna as she speaks up. Tor Nillu opens his mouth to speak, but then shuts it once more as Sahna speaks once more. A rueful look to Varal, but he waits patiently. Lucius Nepos reaches into his pouch when he's a few metres away from everyone else and assembles his pipe, drawn from the pouch in two pieces, rather quickly. He pulls a small wooden stick from the same pocket and lights it on a torch, then ignites the packed contents and smokes. And smokes. And smokes. "Is that his name? I had forgotten," Gefrey says thoughtfully. "No, no. I've had an audience with him, and I can say I don't believe I will be seeking another audience anytime soon. The self-important attitude, you see." He frowns. "I thought if he really did have such a position, it might be good for someone from Crown's Refuge to talk to the Archon about him, yes? He's staying in Northreach tonight." One of Tyder's eyebrows arches upward again and she crosses her arms over her chest. "Is he now," she replies, the words not actually a question. "And why would he be doing that? I hear tell he prefers the out-of-doors to Fastheld in general." Her lips purse into a thin line, a grim expression that already tells that the smith has an inkling. "Wait, what?" Sahna queries of Gefery, with a look of pure alarm. "Is he injured? Did something happen to him?" "He has been arrested, your Grace," Tor says, wincing a little as the words come out of his mouth. Varal smirks as he hear that Taran's been arrested. After a moment, he outright laughs. "What for?" Lucius asks, not looking back. Smoke rises above his head, from his pipe. Gefrey Seamel frowns. "He appeared rather... flashily in the tavern, without a mark," Gefrey says. "We had him brought to the constabulary until it is decided what should be done with him." Sahna, on the other hand, doesn't laugh. In fact, she wears a tight-lipped expression that suggests she's trying not to explode. Her gaze remains locked on Gefrey, as she queries in a terse tone, "Where is he, and how many people know?" Tyder starts at the word 'arrested', her mouth forming a small 'o' of surprise before her cheeks grow red and hot, much like her rising temper. The ringing laughter surely does not help. "/Arrested/? But--he doesn't /need/ a Mark; he is not a citizen of Fastheld anymore... Was he bringing warning about gargoyles, at least? Or did you not even give him time to bring a message? Do you understand he is working diligently to help us understand the gargoyles and without him we have only half-facts? He is not only invaluable to us, but also to Fastheld. WHO was stupid enough to do that?" It goes without saying that the lack of citizenship has apparently loosened Tyder's tongue considerably, and her attitude; she all but glares furiously at Gefrey, awaiting answers. Tor Nillu sighs quietly from behind Sahna, again answering the question. "As many people as were in the tavern and nearly panicked, your Grace. As well as anyone on the route to the Constabulary. Where he was taken." A glare goes out to Tyder, but considering Sahna's mood right now, he says nothing further. Gefrey Seamel holds up a hand to Tyder, waving a little. "I imagine the entire town, by tomorrow morning, your Grace. He did not exactly give us the option of keeping this discrete in the least, and covering it up was absolutely impossible from the start." The wildlander gets no answers, apparently. Varal finds this whole situation to be hilarious, to be so amusing that he simply cannot stop laugh. He even doubles over, wiping at his eyes though he seems to be trying to stifle himself - perhaps for Sahna's sake. Lucius Nepos turns back to observe the situation. He looks rather like a philosopher with his pipe hanging out of his mouth. Then again, probably not - the armour doesn't lend itself to such a role very much. "Of all the idiotic things to could be done, only second to gallavanting about the Wildlands," Tyder continues, turning about to kick a wagon wheel furiously with her right foot, and her boot makes a solid *thunk* noise as it connects with the wood. She then reaches out to grasp the edge of a wagon, her knuckles turning very white with her death-grip, and exhales heavily before turning back to the knot of nobles. "How long do you feel like holding him there to wallow in a dank cell before he is taken before the Tribunal?" she barks to Gefrey, unfazed by his dismissive silence. Sahna turns to Tor, hearing him out in grave silence. She reaches up for the bridge of her nose and pinches it. "Yes, I imagine it was quite a spectacle.. Thank you, Tor. If you haven't met everyone yet, this is Count Varal Mikin, Viscountess Celeste Mikin, and Master Lucius Nepos." To the others she states, simply, "Do excuse me. I need to go find Duhnen immidiately." Tor Nillu sighs quietly and bows to Sahna once more. "Of course, your Grace," he says softly. "I also would crave a moment of your time when it is possible." "That, Mistress, is not my decision," Gefrey snaps to Tyder. "And whatever else he may be doing, when in Fastheld, he is subject to Fastheldian law, which he was in violation of. What happens now is out of my hands, and in the hands of my cousin and Imperial law." He bows to Sahna. "Take care then, your Grace," he murmurs. "She's right. This isn't helping anything or anybody. But, unfortunately, it is the Law. He must have known that when he was coming in." Lucius nods at Gefrey. "For better or for worse, the ambassador subjected himself to Law when he came in, however he came in." He doesn't look especially happy about it, though. "Absolutely, Tor. As soon as I talk to Duhnen." Sahna answers, quickly dissapearing into the evening dusk. Varal manages to stop laughing enough to talk. Tor gets another nod as Sahna introduces him, but he can't help but smirk at Tyder. "Not only is it Fastheld law, but it is law he knows. Do not be angry at us for a foolish gaffe on his part. It stands that the ambassador should be acquainted with what he need know to enter, no?" "Damnable nobility," Tyder returns with an equally furious snap. "You've managed to do the stupidest thing you could, and are to be applauded for it. I must out and inform the Archon at once, and the Archmage. She will need to seek another visionary, if one can even be /found/," she continues, glancing to Lucius with a look of cold loathing. "Subject to law." These words are accompanied by a scornful shriek of laughter. "If only any of you had even the minutest inkling of what he has done to protect you, too." With a parting furious expression cast toward Varal, she turns to head out quickly toward her horse. Tor Nillu sighs tiredly. "Perhaps as an Ambassador he has just declared war," he muses lightly, turning to go. "...Please, excuse me, my Lord. I think I require rest," he saya to Varal. Gefrey Seamel sighs, and turns to walk in. "A foolish war, if so," he says. "I'll go as well. Good night, everyone." Varal blinks at Lucius. "Declare war?" He starts laughing again. "That would be overly dramatic. And why go all the way to Crown's Refuge to fight a war that does not need fighting?" "I don't agree with it, Tyder. But that doesn't mean that it's not what the custom of Fastheld is. For better or for worse, that is what our Law is. You know that, you lived here for long. I know what he did - I have been back and forth through the Refuge many times now, moving to this cave in the Drakesreach. I understand you are livid - but this does not have precedent. At the least this is a minor diplomatic gaffe which will be corrected by timely intervention by the Prince or the Regent. I am sure of this. The Tribunal IS justice, and it will get Taran off, I'm sure." Lucius says to Tyder, his own irritation from before having remarkably calmed and left him. "But please, I'd ask you not to talk to me as if I am a child. I know what is going on." He shakes his head in disbelief at Tor and Gefrey. "War? Hah! What would they have to gain in war, m'lords? They're hundreds of miles away, and we are their friends. War? I think not. A small incident is more likely." Tor Nillu shakes his head at the two of them. "An idle musing. I do not expect his actions to be taken as such. Again, my humor is ill-timed." he remarks lightly, and disappears off. Despite her furious pacing away, the words thrown at her back cannot but help stop Tyder in her tracks, and she turns about slowly to stare in utter bafflement at Lucius. "You know," she replies quietly, slow steps drawing her back in toward the group. It is so so hard to resist arguments, after all. "Ahaha," the smith begins with a light chuckle that rolls into a deep guffaw that escalates into hysterical laughter that rings throughout the gated area. "You../know/! Oh, ahaha, oh, I can hardly breathe. We are growing out of an era where Mages were used as target practice, and an unmarked one has wandered into Fastheldian territory. You'll forgive me, dear Lucius, if I do not entirely trust whatever Church faction still exists to not be positively salivating over the idea of Lessening a rogue mage to prove example to the rest of us easily forgettable Wildlanders. Furthermore, I could not for a single instant believe that you actually know /all/ that is going on. I speak to you like a child, because you know about as much as a child would be told." And here the smith pauses for breath, allowing room for interjection. Varal spits to the side, grinning at Tyder. The grin is far from pleasant. "You're a fool, woman. A damned fool. Taran will not be lessened, probably just chastised. He is an ambassador, and we are not barbarians. But do not stand in our walls and insult us. Master Nepos is no child, and you *will* show him the respect he deserves. If not for finding him to be correct - which he is, than for serving Fastheld and saving the Refuge. But, being the thoughtless bitch you are, be on your merry way out of my Empire." "Of course. I know what I've been told - not everything, but certainly not nothing, as you state; nor did I claim to know it all, such is simply something you thought without any tangible proof. I do not know the most in Fastheld, even, though I've been trying to act as a courier somewhat. What I do know is that Taran has been instrumental in watching over the caves, since it was he who visited someone I know but will not reveal several days ago with news that caves were open. I've visited a few times. So no, not an omnipotent, but not a child, either." Lucius shrugs, his expression remaining subdued and calm as he looks over Tyder. He shakes his head at Varal. "Thank you again, Lord Varal, but we're basically outside Fastheld right now. We're all equal here. Listen, Tyder - I don't wish to argue. I really don't. The Church has no real power outside of its walls, you know that. The Tribunal doesn't Lessen mages, and it never has. I'm sorry you feel that way. But I won't let an argument get in between good relationships between Wildlanders and Fastheldians. If you need something done, please come to me. I will try to accomodate you." Finally, finally she has cracked someone. It seems enough for Tyder, and she turns an amused gaze on Varal. "Do you think a sad little word like 'bitch' will faze me? How lost. But never you fear, I will be gone. I was happy to leave before, and shall be even more pleased to step outside of these walls. As for the good will between Wildlanders and Fastheldians - oh, that remains, I am sure of it. Simply /my/ fondess for you lot has died, snuffed like a flame. I shan't have any goodwill for /you/ ever again, but do not mistake it as a political matter; it is entirely personal. I, after all, matter not, just like I always have. You may pass word to your citizens still crossing into Light's Reach to place orders with me that they will simply have to fashion themselves a new smith, or stick to the sub-par goods offered in their markets, for I will not be lending you any further assistance. Good evening." With a sweeping bow, she turns back to head toward the wagons. Mayhaps this time she really /will/ just disappear into the darkness. Varal can only laugh as Tyder stalks off, letting the mocking noise be his farewell. "Light keep." Lucius says in passing, watching Tyder leave. Gefrey Seamel walks out to the gate again, frowning to himself as he comes. Varal turns about, heading back into Northreach. "Evening, Nepos. Light Watch, Keep, Bless." Passing Gefrey, he nods. "Evening." Lucius Nepos turns to Varal. "You too, Lord Varal." He blinks at the Seamel. "For better or worse, you executed the Law. I fear it might be for worse, m'lord." "Mm, perhaps," Gefrey says, taking a step toward Lucius. "But it must be done, mustn't it?" He frowns. "One thing I do not understand, why would they choose such a man for an ambassador to Fastheld? I know they do not hold to nobility, but that man was outright derisive of it. How is one supposed to function as an ambassador in that way?" Lucius Nepos's lips are stuck in between a smile and a frown - ruefull, maybe the words to describe. "He was a well respected citizen, you know. Jaded, maybe, but free spirited, too. It shapes him. He knows our custom well, having grown up here. That makes him a suitable ambassador. What did he say exactly?" Gefrey Seamel closes his eyes. "No, I cannot believe he is in the least suitable. He knows our laws, and expected to be treated as a nobleman. We are 'foolish children' to him when we do our duty, and he acts as though he owns Northreach himself, because he is acquainted with the Duke. No, he is no suitable ambassador." Lucius Nepos shrugs. "He just should have gone about it in a better way, really. He actually called you a foolish child?" The soldier seems somewhat disbelieving. "Aye, he did," Gefrey says. "And attempted to dismiss us from the constabulary." He sighs. "I don't envy the one who will have to deal with him." "His ego has swollen, it looks like. He was never like that before. A shame, m'lord. He's become disagreeable, though I do think that ambassadors should be treated as if they were Imperial officers or somesuch. We don't have any other ambassadors, is the problem.. this is rather new for Fastheld." Admits Lucius, somewhat distastefully. "I wonder if he even knew where he was going. Apparently, while I was in the pisspot at a friend of mine's residence, he appeared by calling himself to me. I didn't see him, but my friend did." Gefrey Seamel rubs his temple. "Ahh, but never mind it. If they sent an ambassador who would not be insulting on first appearance, and would /not/ scare our citizens when he does so, it might work better. I just do not believe that this Songbird fulfills these requirements, and I feel no need to treat him with any special respect." "Well, maybe there's the problem, m'lord. He probably feels the same way. You both have official positions, designated by the respective states. All would be well if both of those positions were actually respected, no?" Lucius asks, tilting his head a bit. "No," Gefrey says firmly, after a moment's thought. "No, it would not be." Lucius Nepos frowns, and doesn't say anything further for a little while. "Well... I doubt they'll take well to this. The Archon is a very proud woman. Most Wildlanders are. They've survived much in an unforgiving environment. The Archon will probably take this as a personal slight. Diplomatic relations aren't likely to be good." "Then there will be a spot of trouble," Gefrey says. "This was inevitable, the moment he appeared in Fastheld. Good night, Master Nepos." He turns and walks off, into the city."
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