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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Apr 24, 2023 10:26:57 GMT -5
Curious whispers traveled through the cold air of the Frost Gale, reaching her ears in no time, as they undoubtly would if they were worth anything. A small merchant girl, the daughter of the baker, whose friendship she quickly stabilished over a few conversations and a sincere interest for her life and well being, was quick to run up to her once she arrived in town again. There was a quick exchange, some sweet rolls were bought, but instead of just a few coppers, a whole golden solar was given to the girl.
Someone is meddling with the nobles? Interesting...
If she could play her cards right, she could arrive to some interesting results.
After meeting the girl, Kamille went to the tavern. With a description and a name and at least four more pair of eyes and ears at her disposal, it wouldn't take long for her to find him. The footsteps that followed her on the snow were the only real evidence she was not alone. Well, if they weren’t counting for Mischief. But the mischievous raven had fallen silent, as he didn’t have a good relationship with the cold and snow. Frost Gale didn’t have a thought to spare to the Witch of Moonglade, but still she drew attention wherever she went - she should expect so, dressed as a lady, with black furs that Lady Marrowine herself could envy. As a pyromancer, she didn’t feel the cold, but she indulged in the opportunity to wear the furs that brushed softly against her pale skin, as there would be no other opportunity to flash them.
A whiff of the whimsical and extraordinaire followed her, not unlike the enthralling perfume of a lady, one that remains more in one's memory than in the air. Even if tending a bit for the macabre, the Witch's smile was warm enough as to difuse any bad feelings towards her most of the times. Perhaps "disarming" was a better term, out of the truthfulness of the twinkle that crossed her eyes when her lips curved. And because of such, it was easy to get the barman to her side, as soon as she leaned against the counter. He took one glance at her expensive clothes and thought "This one has money" then one look at her deep blue eyes, filled with stars and promises of arcane might and thought "This one I don’t want to cross". Then, he noticed the claws at the ends of her gloves, which only reinforced his last thought.
"The person you seek usually appears here around this time."
"Thank you, sir. I'll wait with a glass of red."
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Post by Proparox on Apr 24, 2023 16:22:44 GMT -5
Proparox entered the tavern quietly, always trying not to call attention to himself. The barman gets him a beer mug like he always does. But something is different. The look of the barman was a little more serious. The smell of the place had something different than just beer, sweat, smoke, and blood. Is that... lilac?
Women in that place were not exactly unusual, but women like her certainly were. She had a presence that was impossible to ignore.
What a rich woman is doing in a place like this, where people fight every 5 minutes? She could be drinking at any place in town...
The place was dangerous, but drunk people always talk. It's a good place to hear more about the movements in town. People there work for the nobles, they drink and they talk. Sometimes was possible to hear something really useful. That was the excuse he used to himself to go there. The truth is he just hates to be alone. He realized that she was not worried about danger. She was calm. Too calm. Is she looking for information? Just danger? Maybe should I be worried...?
He dismissed the thought. Why should he be worried there? He didn't tell his name to anyone there. The people who speak with him are the barman and drunk people wanting to decorate the floor with more blood. Bounty hunter? No. There was no bounty over his head, that he knows, at least. Even if was, wouldn't be enough even to pay for the furs she was wearing. He takes the beer mug and sits at the counter, noticing the claws at her glove.
Damn it. Now I'm worrying.
His first instinct was to leave. He was a fugitive. He can't afford to take risks. But the curiosity... always the God damned curiosity... impossible to ignore.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Apr 25, 2023 14:58:23 GMT -5
If that place was dangerous, she didn’t seem to be aware. On the contrary, if all the sideways glances were a good indication of anything, it would seem as if it was the woman that commanded an aura of respect, but that might just be because she was a mage - so undoubtly, unapologetic about her gift. No one seemed brave enough - or be so stupid enough - as to approach the lady.
It was a warmer night, even when the winds howling out there poured inches and more inches of snow on the streets, in a freezing crecendo that announced the storm to come. Or, at the very least, a lot of snow. And yet the flames on the fireplace raged taller than ever, the cold unusually unable to slither into the tavern.
And then, there was that perfume. The Witch certainly shifted the mood of the environment, without being intrusive or aggressive.
Then, of course, there was Mischief. The raven was outright disruptive.
Once the man sat on the bar, some good four or five stools away from the lady that was already enjoying a bottle of red, the barman threw around a few glances. She often considered herself to be a lot of things, and discrete or stealthy certainly wasn’t one of them - but the barman was even worse. At first she paid no mind, because she knew her wingman would do what it always did.
Click clack click clack.
The raven's talons against the polished counter were a dry sound, but his hops were somewhat endearing. Curiosity was also his greatest sin, it would seem, as it approached the man without restraint, getting in his face like a judgemental mother inspecting one's eyebrows. His small, beetle eyes inspected the stranger up and close, and he could almost see the gears behind his little bird brain turning for a hot minute.
"Hello! I am Mischief! CAW!"
The bird spoke up, and most people were already surprised enough at that. Those people were possibly not ready for what came next, as the bird took a look at his mug of beer, squinted his eyes....
....and dunked his entire head into it. By the time he was out of his mug, he splashed beer all around the counter and whoever was nearby, happily cawing.
"Is my bird disturbing you?"
The voice came from down the counter, from the woman. It was easy to forget she wasn’t as well known on the Frost Gale as she was around Moonglade, where the link between the Witch and her familiar was known and fairly obvious... if the talons on her gloves weren’t hint enough.
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Post by Proparox on Apr 25, 2023 18:09:03 GMT -5
Disturbing? Not at all. It's the first time I drink with a talking crown. A new... curious... experience.
He looked at the barman to ask for a beer for himself, that mug belongs to the bird now. The man was acting strange.
Maybe he is nervous because of the rich lady. Or something more than that. Something more than that, definitely. Looks like is something with me. Am I being paranoid? No... The description isn't his stronger skill.
Nice to meet you, Mister... Sir... Your birdness? You can drink this beer... that you already are drinking. No problem. No problem at all...
He was still tense, avoiding looking directly at the lady. He can't stop talking when he is nervous, and that was one of these situations. Mischief... appropriate name for a crown. I'm not saying you're problem. Well, you took my beer without asking even though you know how to talk, but it's ok. I like to share my drink with... talking birds, I guess.
He was a fugitive. Could she be trying to capture him? Is she a problem? Or is she just a rich lady with a talking bird in a poor tavern for... reasons? Either way, he already had at least 3 ways to run away if necessary. He just had to shut up, give some beer to the bird, and see what happen.
So, a rich lady with a talking bird walks into a bar... just for fun?
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Apr 30, 2023 11:44:26 GMT -5
"Raven, actually. But it's a common mistake. People don’t usually expect them to talk, but once they get the taste for it, they won't shut up. His next one is on my tab."
The lady signaled for the barman to get his order on her, which supposedly was to pay him for his stolen beer. By the way she looked resigned to it and couldn’t care to look surprised at the way the raven dunk his entire head into the mug, it was safe to say that wasn’t the first occurrence of such act of thievery. In all accounts, she considered the naming of Mischief quite on point.
So used to it that, in fact, she's been waiting for it to happen, which only would give her a good, natural excuse to approach and strike a conversation. Which is precisely what she did.
The Witch slid off of her stool to take a place to his side. The perfume was definitely hers. And if there was anymore proof needed that she was an arcane user, her eyes screamed such talent: deep blue, endless pools that swirled with stars, with a pull as strong as the tide, a dangerous undertow, aiming to swallow and drown anyone who would dare stare for too long. Inevitable. An old fox with the talons of a raven. A gypsy with the furs of a noble lady.
"For what other reason would someone walk into a bar? Are you here for fun?"
Mischief was having fun with the mug for a moment, but apparently the excitement faded quite quickly, seeing as the previous owner gave away his beer so willingly. It was much fun when they tried to get it back.
The woman, on the other hand, had her full attention firmly placed on him. She was one of those people who smiled with her eyes, dimples and all. She wouldn’t address just now the fact he called her a "rich lady", but she was curious how far that would go...
"You can call me Kamille, by the way."
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Post by Proparox on Apr 30, 2023 19:07:47 GMT -5
Sorry, Mr. Raven, my knowledge of birds is... less than ideal.
The perfume became stronger as she came closer. And her claws more dangerous. And the regret for having opened his mouth also became bigger. But if she is here for him, she already found what she was looking for. Does it make any sense to try to avoid her now? Or give it his name would give her something she still doesn't have? Or is she just being nice to him?
You get me, Ms. Kamille. I could say I came here to forget about the world, but I would do that by having some liquid fun. I'm Proparox, by the way. Cheers!
He turned his body in her direction, trying to give the impression that she had his attention, but he was trying to be prepared for any attack. Back on the wall to avoid being surprised by someone else, a vision of the entire place, and arms in a good position to react. His bright eyes are frenetic giving away any attempt of looking casual.
But I'm here because is the only place that I know in this town. I just moved here. If you are here, that means I get lucky because there aren't a lot of better places to be at this time, right?
The barman heard it and looked like he didn't like the irony in the phrase. Proparox would say something, but he is incapable of dividing his attention now, he doesn't want to give any chance to be attacked.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on May 8, 2023 4:59:55 GMT -5
His attempts at looking relaxed didn't go unnoticed. He was tense, it didn't take a genius to see that. It was a different feeling of tense, though, than when people were outright afraid of her. She understood that well, specially for people that knew her reputation or feared what she represented as an arcane wielder. But no, that was not it.
It was the fear of people who had something to hide. Who held secrets.
And did she love a good secret......
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Proparox."
She chugged down her wine, a bit less like a lady and more like a sailor, used to chugging down cheap ale. The Witch barely held back a chuckle as he made some comment about the place that clearly didn't go well with the barman, but despite shoting them the stinky eye, he didn't do or say much more.
"It truly depends on what one is looking for... As you put it, this is a good place for having some 'liquid fun', but as for me... I'm looking for a partner to take on a job."
The Witch shot a meaningful glance to Proparox. The implied was obvious, even if her words were kinda roundabout.
"Would you happen to know someone who would be up to some quick cash? I pay my associates very well..."
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Post by Proparox on May 8, 2023 17:52:26 GMT -5
Money... money, money, money, money, money...
His fingernails tapped the wood of the counter without any rhythm, showing his anxiety. His head had a thousand thoughts at the same time. His heart was beating like crazy.
I really need money. REALLY need it. But I can't accept, no, no chance. Just say no, go home, and never think about it again.
So, what kind of job is this? Maybe I can help, maybe I know someone that can help. Maybe not. Who knows?
He didn't know what kind of trap he fell in. Why couldn't he just be rational? He couldn't understand his own motivations. Why was he being so impulsive? He was scared, anxious, and curious, or maybe was just lonely, needing any kind of contact with other living being, even dangerous encounters were better than nothing. He spent a lot of time alone. Why would he miss an opportunity?
But he was right about one thing. He needs money. He was living from thefts. It's hard to sell expensive goods in a place where a few have too much and a lot have so few. A job could be a good opportunity. Opportunity to make some good money or to go down for good.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on May 9, 2023 4:49:16 GMT -5
This is where things were about to get interesting. She knew the barman was into this, so she didn't have much restraint in talking within his earshot. The fact she got the man's attention when talking about money really got her ears perked up too. If she was being honest, most people were quick to give a positive response when presented with something golden and shinning.
Now, let's see where he stood when it came to the people's plight.
"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but there are some old farts with fancy names and lordships attached to their asses that want to ban monster hunting in the Pale City."
Clearly, her view of the nobility wasn't that good. Which was interesting, because given her fancy looks, anyone would think she was a noble lady herself.
"Between you and me, I probably like monsters and the monstruous more than the average person. But everything has its place in the world. And here, in the Frost Gale, monster hunting is a lot of people's jobs. Not to mention it is completely necessary to keep the safety of the cities. Your average peasant relies on monster hunters to protect their house, while the nobility will have their personal guards and army. As it turns out, I got a few names of the people who want to ban this practice here."
The lady propped her elbow on the counter, leaning discretely towards him as if about to whisper a secret, her chin resting on her palm. Her eyes twinkled with extra joy this time, as if she was about to propose something utterly... mischievous.
"I want to scare them."
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Post by Proparox on May 17, 2023 16:33:10 GMT -5
Interesting. Really, really interesting. Maybe too interesting.
Scaring nobles is his dream job. This could be the best thing happen to him since he was a kid. But that's the problem. Good things don't just happen to him. More fear. More anxiety. More curiosity.
So, I'm not saying I'm interested. I'm not saying I'm not interested. But I need to ask.
He made a dramatic pause. Not on purpose, he was just thinking about how to phrase the question correctly.
If I would guess, I could say you're one of them.
Just asking why would not give him a satisfactory answer. a vague question just results in a vague answer. How to ask if she wasn't a noble herself? And why an elegant lady would want to be part of this? It was clear she wasn't a traditional person. She had a talking raven and claws and didn't have any fear to be where she was, talking with strangers about dangerous things.
Do you have any interest in this "situation" that we need to know, before doing any work?
Still vague. Too easy to avoid answering. He turned his body to the counter and gave a good taste of the beer. He didn't look into her eyes anymore. He was trying to show a trust signal, that he isn't on guard with her. Well, in fact, he was trying to hide his eyes which was showing how nervous he was.
I'm willing to help, maybe I know someone who could do things like this. But you probably understand my... precautions. I'll not be part of something that I don't know exactly what it is. That's the only way to guarantee quality work, isn't it?
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on May 30, 2023 15:16:16 GMT -5
Dreams don't just magically fall on one's lap... There usually was a catch to it. Or a price.
And what could the price be... when it was a Witch offering it?
His remark about him thinking she was a noble herself didn't seem to surprise her - she knew how she looked, and she spent enough time around nobility to know how to behave and dress and speak. And yet here she was, plotting to mess with nobles.
"That much is understandable. I spent too much time around nobility. Enough to know how rotten they can be, how they can smother chances and opportunities to do good to others without a second thought. How they only think of themselves and of keeping their own thing going on."
There might be a bit of bitterness in her words, but not in her voice. If anything, it was an old, worn off feeling, something that belonged to her a long, long time ago. Her younger self had worked on that, replacing it with things that were more productive, that could make a difference.
She replaced her bitterness with actions.
"My interest is helping the people."
Simple, to the point, yet she knew he would doubt, even if she was a bad liar. Which she was.
"I know for a fact some of these nobles will meet with the intention of discussing the terms of this banning a couple of days from here. They will dine together, and then participate in a reunion at the house of one of this proper Lords. I want nothing lethal, merely... Uncomfortable. Something in their drinks, maybe, or their food. Something I could provide."
Almost idly, she pulled out of her cleavage what appeared to be a small flask, with a deep, greenish liquid...
Ah, a poisoner. That much made sense.
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