Journey Forward - Subversion Tales

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

Mayhem Amidst Moonlight; Absence of the First Day

Interludes

Claramae: The moonlight was playing with a sense of false-comfort with a half clairity. Half illuminate, half veiled. Half of itself. Potree was thrown under the guise of an oustretched shadow with fingers made of still naked tree branches raking on the soil. The wind knocked out fledgling buds, littering the quaint by day town square, now terribly suspicious at night. She shouldn't have been outside, especially alone. Sorschal would have her head on a silver platter if he knew, but then again, Claramae was too pretty to him to be John the Baptist. Her body curved along the side of a building after walking to a north facing corner, hopping up like a cat (black) onto the widow ledge. The roof was thatch, but bound hard enough to support a hard dig with her hands. One window gave way to a row, a row to investigation. She had grown too accustomed to people, and by God, it was her fault that eyes had become expected.Her own senses were still as keen, still as honed, but underused. The dress worn was unlike others. Form-fitting dark velvet over woolen hose for warmth. She appeared a curious villager with a penchant for strange habits. There was more to Potree than met the eye, and it would be her eye she'd learn to trust first in uncovering it, remembering whom was the senior among masters of the trade (d)

Vincere: The night wore on him with weight bearing eyes that bore dark circles much akined to the sky hovering high above him. He glared at the stars whose twinkle never lost their pep, and damned them for mocking him as he stumbled forward from being clumsy. Stuttered steps progressed to a trip, and he landed upon a series of crates and cages containing the wild life from the farms' trade; it made a racket in the small square but nothing unusual.-- Michael was harshly different, though in the dark it was hard to tell the shadows from statues, but with further investigation one could gather that he had just survived a terrible ordeal. He pushed himself from the crates and moved into the center of town where he saw a woman wearing the tight fitting dark velvet dress; she looked the part of a villager and in his apathetic state he would approach fearless. ``Where is the nearest inn?`` He asked shamelessly. His voice was haggard, carrying hints of his past with the military yet his tone was off, and his gaze held at the woman's feet. The light from the moon shown just right to touch the scar that ran deep across his face; a scar that told a chapter long since out of print.[d]

Claramae: The row of windows carried her closer to the best vantage point of the square. Unfortunatley, the lighting was so that she would have to stand in the thicket of the thinnest shadows. It was a challgene, and her mind thirsted to be satiated on that wine again as one who has addictions needs a fix. She over-indulged in this solitary opiate to harden the result of the addiction; a thick, perfect porcelin mask that told no one of how she suffered, ached, or that her tears were made of salt water like everyone else's. She jumped down to land on the silent soles of her shoes. For once, her hair was pulled back in a long, chestnut braid that swang helter-skelter with sharp turns of the head. What was left, right, north and south? She trusted herself but trusted neither Potree or the true object of her ambitions. Take now at the approach of a man, stumbling as if he came, drunk from thin air through the square. The village mead-drinker, the sooth-sayer of too-many-cups always predicting when he'd have more? "You've had too much," she pulled a hard cloak over her voice to make it mimic a shade of the dialect. Passable. Basic. he constricted her throat because he actually began to frighten her. The night played tricks to bring out his voice, even his scent. God was terrible. "Inn keep's all a'gone to bed now." (d)

Vincere: ``Damn, and to think a man can't even die in a place of his choosing..`` He replied, pushing the brown lengths of his hair back to his shoulders. Then, something hit him. That voice. Even as she caught her mistake and fixed her accent, he had always been able to depict her carefully. He looked up.. ``C..claramae?`` He asked, looking upon as if he was blind. He stumbled toward her a bit, grasping her by her shoulders and turning the woman so her face was in the line of the light.. ``Claramae. I-..i thought you were...dead. HE TOLD ME YOU WERE DEAD! GODS WHY DO YOU TOY WITH ME!!!!`` He screamed aloud, dropping to his knees and letting his hands fall from her shoulders so he may bury his face in them. He wept shamelessly..[d]

Claramae: Childish, foolish! Stupid, stupid error in what had once been a flawless practice. Her voice caught in her throat, gurgled as she all about cried out in alarm at the mention of her name. This was the end - Claramae defied Alendral, went out alone and would be the body found come morning. What a horrid way to die - just as she'd so often felt - alone! Just as she was turning to run, she didn' thave the chance before his hands caught her shoulders with an unimaginable strength to be thrust out into the light from the comfort of the dark. Oh God..Oh god pray thee grant me peace..spare me, if not grant my spirit peace.. The prayer over and over recited as a cold sweat broke out. Frozen voice let out a paralyzed, pathetic scream that turned instead to features of shock. Her death manifested him? There was nothing worse for a spymaster than a break in sanity - that break that told you that you'd at last crossed sides, perhaps, or were done entirely. Presisng her body back against the wall, the laugh of defeat made her chest tremble before he spoke. I thought you were dead. Instead of dying, he speculated on her life! Was it, could it truly be him after all of this time? He held on to a body that shook violently. Panic was a dangerous in Claramae , emotion unfiltered was dangerous because it was so hard to make sense of what was rarely ever shown. "Mi-chael...Michael...." He wept aloud and held her fast to find ultimately she slid down the wall part of the way. "Michael?" Then the question as features began to do what they never did:go stark pale. Persistant want to confirm lucidity for sanity made bare hands reach out. Stinging with cold, the fingers bent crooked over the scar on his face. That alone brought the indesctructable woman to collapse in the pool of light, drawing him hard into herarms. Smothering her forehead against his shirt, his neck, her tears mingled with his. (d)

Alendral: She may have defied the Illusionist, but she did not surprise him. The figure stalked, such was the woman's drive, her need, that he had she had missed the flaw--the student could track the mentor, the master could track its subordinate, but he allowed her this. Knew she needed this. Defying his wishes did not mean that Alen would abandon his promise. He was prepared--ready for any kind of trap. Ready for anything. anything but a phantom. a beleagured lover, frantic in his calling. Claramae was supposed to be dead. Lord, she was supposed to be dead. That was what he believed. No, that was what he was told. He watched the scene--watched his old master's walls come tumbling down in the face of it, saw her faith both restored and destroyed in a single instant. He wanted to be happy for her. He wanted to sing the songs of the restoring of purpose, to bringing the one thing she needed in life. He wanted to be moved. All that stirred was a sense of dread. No. it couldn't. It wasn't. He wouldn't have been let go! He couldn't have slipped away! his experience--his instincts, everything knew demanded this an illusion, despite evidence plain as day in his eyes. His hands were knuckle white from a high perch, the proverbial cat displaying his talents again, with few to watch. And just when the height of his sheer panic, his sheer horror had overwhelmed him--that's when he noticed a crucial detail--a crucial detail left for him. A missive tube--laid out behind the railing, waiting for him. It was so obvious he barely knew what to make of it--as if neatly discarded on top the roof, such a foolish little messenger tossing about such important missives? He approached, cautiously, opened with an unsteady hand, baffled. Mystified. an audience member who didn't understand how the trick was performed. Dumbfounded. He popped open the small tube, which contained a small sheath of parchment, with one message, in neat, stylized handwriting. The student is the master. He didn't even know what to make of it, not at first. It didn't even make any sense. Than instinct took over--he whirled around suddenly, peered over his shoulder, alarmed. a trap--nothing. Nothing. Except that somebody had planned this. Somebodywas following Vincere. Someone had ordained this... someone was watching them. and they above it all all.... They wanted Alexander to know it.

Claramae: "Shh...shhh....no n-o. I am not dead. I am not dead. God help me, God pray for my mind, my sanity." A petition in the essence of a restored happiness companioned by a darker hour. All that she knew had been shaken! The very foundations of unshakeable belief in years of excellence had come crashing down the moment her foolish errors consigned her to an imagined death. "I would have died...I would have, to not see you again." The shock had made ghost-white a healthy face, turned firm hands to stammering limbs with digits fluttering. Her body felt weak, her belly tossing on the remnants of feelings with want to expell them. Feeling, ha! A plague to her sort that made them sick. Often, if a spy fell gravely ill it was for years worth of repressed things that had biult on one another. Herb-induced sleeps, over working, perpetual acting had played a part in eroding her piece by piece. Still, as the reunion waxed on it dawned on her how terribly easy it had all been. It made her grip him more, and from his rooftop perch the former mentor now master would watch his equal fellow's eyes began to darken. If it was one thing that Claramae found intolerable, it was being played for the fool. That was because in a mind ruled by arithmetic, science, and academia the dizzy spire speed at which she figured dthings out left people in the dust. Oh, how strange to see the hint of sharpness began to carve out her sight. An almost possesive hand stayed around her lover while the other reached back into her hair. A tiny prize was brought out: Elusha Vittergaust lived in symbology for her in two ways: Her pendant, and the hair pins with their symbol on it. These things were placed in an x fashion on the stone, intended to be left. Akin to marking a territory, it was issuing a challenge. Worse than obsessed, Claramae flickered out of that moment and naught but St. Laurence remained to put down the sign that said From henceforth I dare you.. Gently bringing him to stand, she did not even look down on the forsaken pieces that had never left herall these years, abandoned now. Let him play with them. Fondle them. Caress and imagine the day she was strung up for heaven help him, that would be the day this at last ended on different terms. (d)

...later....

Claramae: The night wore on. Each minuted passed like an hour on a clock with a messed up hands to tell the time, making the hands of humans too feeble to hold what they had. Instinct was the pilot guiding Claramae to take Michael out of the square, the light exposure, and away from her blatant challenge signified in an artifact left on the packed earth. The way to the inn and the inn itself were nameless, really, nondescript banality among the many such places with simple chairs, simple hearths, simple doors and rooms that were functional and clean. Paid for bread went uncut, broth uneaten, as all that was done was staring at the man whom lay on his side in the bed. Was he awake? Was he asleep? It could be possible neither of them were breathing in the real world; that this was a manifestation of supressed longings. Her legs were pulled up under her body, hair gone askew from the trembling of frought nerves. (d)

Vincere: Michael stared at the dark cracks in the wall. He saw past the shadows given off by the wavoring flame behind him, and delved into the abyss of that darkness where only he could rot. Fed up with life and its evil and twisted ways, he already thought he had died and moved on to another hell; she was his torment whilst he awaited his eternity to burn in hell. Wasn't this torture enough, Devil? Take on the form of his one and only love, torturing him with such a flawless veneer.-- Hands came to tuck his hair back behind his ears, and he sighed again. He was shirtless and stripped down to his trousers; just in the manner Claramae had left him. Warmth came in its physical form, but mentally..he was frozen, and the depth of his eyes showed that as he continued to plunge himself deeper, and deeper into that abyss..[d]

Claramae: "Michael, look at me now. You must eat, you must drink or you will take on an illness." Unplithy little sediment lack-luster in feeling with a drone where softness had been. Claramae pleaded, coaxed, encouraged, and had even sunk to the point of screaming at him to heed. Ghosts flooded his eyes with illusions that he couldn't trust, just like the night had played with her own mind. Hell was this. It was a man's body but no trace of his mind. Rocking unvoluntarily in her chair, she found her feet and walked over toward the tray of food. The broth's oils were congealing on the top of the liquid, making it unappetizing to look at. The fly seemed to spurn it, too, flying over instead to the watered wine nursed only once by her. Flawless veneer was shattered, the truth came out as her eyes seemed to glow in eerie burn for want of real sleep. A deep, dreamless sleep. A sleep of endless days and nights. Tremors wracked at her. Ultimately, the point break came. She overturned the table with the old wears. Table legs stood up like a body in rigamortis, the overturned bowl soaking broth into the floorboards, the bread plate and cup breaking ."Not you too, not you!" She had never told him any of this - and now it was her fault, wasn't it? He reckoned with her punishmentts and transgressions. "COME BACK TO ME!" Devil's didn't scream. No siren beguiled him to touch her body only to disolve into a hydra with a hundred heads. The bed he laid on hadn't changed, but the quality of light to the gray slivers of a weak willed dawn came through the shutters. Maybe her voice did too. Satan didn't cry out for anything but vengence against God where little lower than dirt she cried out for anything to here her.. "Please come back to me. Come back to me Michael!" (D)

Vincere: At the sound of the table flipping, the wayward legionaire turned to face his love. Eyes narrowed on the crying form as she pleaded with his mind to return. The shell that was her love only stared at her for a long period of time before she could see the moisture start to fill his eyes. He watched in disbelief as her rage was not the revenge of God, but for him. She wanted him. ``..cclaire..`` He said, stuttering and low. He put his face into the pillow and sighed wiping the moisture from his eye. Hands came up to regard the woman, fingers opening and closing; signalling her to come to him. Shaky breaths filled with an underlying emotion hidden by the stench of loss. Eyes of strong, unbreakable ice seemed melted; the man she'd known was broken in many pieces. He no longer believed this some dream or vision of the after life. He believed she was Claramae St. Laurence, and eternally relieved, he sought nothing more than to hold his woman.[d]

Claramae: Claramae looked at the turned over table in disbelief that decorum was breeched so grossly. Where was the woman whom was put together by the foundations of class, etiquette, and station. She was that before she was taken to be molded, like clay, into the perfect weapon. But even the best parts of ourselves dissolve. It slipped away like sand on the shore, the rage to become a keen sense of desperation. Her only relief was when he said her name. Hours of silence after he'd fallen at her feet came when he didn't believe she was real anymore, and now it was a man shattered into pieces. How badly she wanted to put him together - would put him together, no matter the lack of pieces in herself. "I am so sorry....I'm sorry.." She repeated over and over again, literally running the few steps to him, colliding with the low place on the cots buckling her body over his. He could hold her all he liked, he could hold her till the world ends.(d)

[Dame Danae Galanos]

For some time now, the ranger had been trailing the duo. Keeping her distance by both beast and on foot, keeping to the cover of mother natures cloak. Keeping to the shadows of father times velvet night skies. Danae, although refused at first... had gained permission to help these people. Perhaps it wasn't now the help was needed, but none the less it would be given whether they were ready for it or not.

Majesty was some place safe, could and would come should she speak her Greek language that would beckon him to her. For now, she was perched in a nearby tree... tall, thick, and sturdy just a few hundred yards to where the others now were. This would be her post for the time, keeping an eye on them from afar and only spring into action should it be needed. The copper skinned woman dare not give up her presence to them just yet. She knew she was not the only one watching them and from here, she hoped to spot whom the other or others might be.

She of course knew there was also the possibility that she herself was being watched. For if these people that Alendral and Claramae were after, to rid the earth from, had been watching Alen closely... they would know where he had recently spent a many of his nights...with her. Now taking her as another possible threat to their plan... or it could backfire and they could use her as a possible tool against Alen. A man whom was now deemed more than just any simple friend. Making things complicated for the both of them, but both willing to see where the road led them. In any case, business was business and the two would keep things separated as much as possible when in the eyes of others.

Night turned to dawn... and the ranger had made herself comfortable within the height and cover of the tree. All the things she needed when scouting were with her, within reach and Majesty remained close by but still hidden. She had watched as Alen perched himself withn shadow, Claramae gaining ground until a man became the focus of her attention. One whom she didn't recognize of course, but as she watched the story unfold, ready to take off at a moments notice, she relaxed seeing he must have been no foe. For now, she would remain here... watching over them and keeping her distance while Merick and Balian saw to things back home.

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

Interludes

Claramae + Danae

Claramae: A whole body could move absent of a fractured mind. To dispute the belief would need only proof; instinct was powerful and rooted in muscle fabric causing a physical, bodily memory to manifest. It was this way that Michael Vincere moved, ate, and slept dreamlessly. But when he spoke the detachment of thought was as hard for a man of military excellence to ingest as it was for the woman who's mental state of intelligence was renknown. Krause had crippled his mind; left it feeble and damaged. It would take him long to heal - but it begged the question - whoever did heal from the Hell of being captured by the Devil? It wouldn't have been enough to torchure him, nor to demean him, but aim was to use him until his time was finished, casting him into the new posistion of inexplicable but known bait. "We come to a crossroads," she spoke from a windowsill where in two feet were supporting a knelt body, "Do not take your eyes from him, Master Voltaire. Summon me, if you have need." Sleep unto the Lady St. Laurence came torrid and pitch. It was enough to fill six hours where for months two had been the standard issue on which to function with nary a flaw. It quelled the fires of mental excersise only enough to give it fuel to spark again on the morning. That was why she took to the places above the village - to greedily suck it in to her lungs,to consider what to do with what the air invigorated (d)

Danae: Danae had remained much like that of a statue on buildings not known to many. Like some sort of Gargoyl frozen in a place... in a time long forgotten. Her eyes never leaving the building for which the others were in. Only drifting to the figures or forms to shadows... ghosts... of what the dawning light made one's mind see.Then again, given what these people were up against, Danae knew very well, those shadows, those ghosts could be devils under the cloak to an evil not yet fully visible to daylight. So it was then she decided to move in closer... to make sure nothing was amiss with those within. As she drew near, making her way just as silently, as ghostly, as any cat on high alert... on the roof top she would find the Lady St Laurence.Careful steps made along the buildings cover, bearing her weight only where she knew the better beams were placed. Calculating her steps in distance as each one was made. From behind one shadow... another would form. Her voice low.. yet stern..as in solid and unwavering. "I see you to take to hiding in the height of places in hopes to find yourself grounded." -d-

Claramae: The formation of shadows but another eve would have caused trepidation, but now the senses restored could denote height, sex, and countenance by the trivial marker of darkness dwarfing light. No, there was nothing amiss that either of them could see but it was what they couldn't that was more frustrating, more sinister was it not? Oddly, two women on a roof made little rift in the fabric of the conscious universe, except, "You should make great care, Lady Ranger, in following spies. In our present time, there are many whom are possessed of a faculty for abhorent ends." Demonstrative of a cat, she remained seated on the edge of a wooden slate roof. It was one of the few in Potree that were so, the rest still blending in the with organic architecture of a place slow to progress. A question such as "what are you doing about here?" or "what fascinates you" wasn't asked. It would be redundant, essentially. (d)

Danae: "I would think that you would know by now... would learn I am who I am and do as I please when I need to so long as the cause is great. Especially one such as this." She replied back with as she slowly moved to a squatting position and held it for a long moment before coming to kneel on a single knee. Another slow survey was made of their surroundings, habit, be it good or bad, needed or unneccessary. What one learned in years of training could not be unlearned over any amount of time in shortage. Soon, Danae found herself nearing the other woman slowly. Close enough to engage in a conversation, distant enough to keep personal space granted to them both. "How is he?" She asked, knowing that the man she watched stumble in earlier with Claramae had to be someone of importance... perhaps in several ways. The copper skinned woman had no idea just who the man was or his significance to the woman next to her. All she knew was the man had to be someone important for both Claramae and Alen to not ignore him. To take him in rather and perhaps see to him. She didn't look to Clara, only kept those icy blue hues forward as they spoke back and forth. -d-

Claramae: "Knowing and the practicality of such are two different things." One might see, one day, the simlirities between former master and student. Aversion. Withdrawal. Warnings. "He is fragile." She could not help but turn a slightcant of head to surrvey the woman of copper skin. "You do not know his name, of this I am surprised. He served beside you, I wager, longer than he had mineself." The body rose, curling against the chimney stack free of smoke. She sat on the edge of this, knowing the place below was inactive empty. The man was considered greatly as she looked out to the skyline promising warmer days with the coming of spring.How strange, that the world should still be so cold. (d)

Danae: Danae would smirk at the woman's reply, it was more so to herself than Claramae. However, it faded just as quickly as it had appeared with Clara's reply on the man's condition. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the woman glancing at her, though, Danae did not meet the gaze. Instead, she came to sit ``Indian style`` and nodded slowly at the fact the man was fragile. When Clara assumed that Danae did not know him by name, the Ranger looked to her and gave a soft shake of head. "My eyes are keen... but not so keen to make out his features from the distance I first took notice of him. Perhaps if I were to see him, then I would know him by face, if only by face alone." Her blue hues moved up and down along the woman before her now standing. Simply taking note of her stature and position, nothing more. Head turned once more and eyes found themselves forward again. "I was at first refused with my offer to help aide you and the others on this mission. But.. as time would have it... I seem to have found myself in a position where its now accepted. Perhaps not at this very moment...but soon. Alendral and I have discussed things...though, not in detail as of yet. I suppose reason being was waiting for the right time and have you included in it. Your thoughts, your ideas..." -d-

Claramae: "Accepted or given, regardless of answer," realizing that either could be the case at present. The outsourcing of help was essentially. There was no way that two of the could do the work of it, but precautions were necessary. "But it would seem that you are here now, thus, it is of no nevermind how you came to be so. He has his reasons. Though of details - one wagers he wishes to see the depth of what you are capable of, and what he deems you capable of. We are a sort that utlize multiple agendas.." From the chimney, she went on to the point of another home. To see the ailing man up close could be done if Danae followed while they spoke of the one called Alendral, a degree of seperation between them no longer. "Especially now. Time is not an ally. It is a challenge that must be risen to accordingly." Devoid of stays or voluminous dresses the limbs beneath the fashions were taut and lithe. Seemingly impossible jumps. Landings, places defying gravity were like stepping stones over a garden pond. Each ascertained the other; skills, strength, flaw. Alendral was smart to select an Avarian, more so one of Apollius' Talons for whom nothing was deemed unreasonable in completion of mission. Though in this, reason was the one thing that was being robbed. To all ends necessary would require a sacrifice no true battle field would ask: (d)

Danae: Danae simply glanced back to Claramae, holding her gaze there for a moment, maybe two. Her face void of any and all expression of emotion. It was strange how women such as she and Clara could change their masks so easily. Letting only a select few to see what only they were granted to see. "This is true... and I figured as much. That once I was here.. there would be no need in waiting... waiting is only giving them more time to do what they wish to, to whom ever, where ever and when ever. That's something that we can't allow." She said as she moved to stand and follow after Claramae. The rangers movements were just as easily made, graceful, balanced, and quick. Danae only called him Alendral because it had been his personal request. One that the ranger would give him respectfully seeing as who they were and where they were in each other's lives now. Even as graceful as the movements that were made to have them closer to their destination, there was still a sense of roughness about Danae's. Showing just what sort of woman she was when compared to that of Claramae. One of a grand life and sorts, the other simple and of the earth, yet, both had qualities about them that made them stand out and be admired for the people they were and the things that did, which made them something of a common thing. "I'm sure I'll be soon greeted by a tongue lashing for my presence being a bit earlier than expected." She of course meant that Alen not being entirely to happy of her being here before he was ready. Maybe that's what had drawn him to her in many ways both professionally and not so professionally. To Danae, there was nothing she wouldn't do to see to the safty of others... be it for the greater good of Skye, or the greater good of man kind. -d-

Claramae: "Take a more forward, direct approach in your revelation of presence, Lady Ranger. His instincts will bid him act first above reason if you do otherwise." Meaning that if it were not clear that it were she, danger could be faced. Claramae knew, because she remembered. Now it was evident Sorschal knew Danae, and one would hope he had enough sense to recall other calling cards, but she feared her old apprentice, in truth, her friend, was consumed. This was so because she was equally consumed, and the venture had become aching and personal. On the outskirts of the window in the no-name country inne, the face of the sleeping man could be seen, carved, with an old jagged scar from a fight with Percival Vizharen. "There. See now." (d)

Danae: "Worry not... I stand straight and as firm as any well rooted tree. Refusing to budge or give by a gust of wind. In like a lion he may come... but...well, I'm confident it won't come to that. Not in the degree one might think. " Danae continued to follow until they reached the window. Blue hues peered in, seeing the jagged carving of a facial scar. Eyes did narrow, focusing and memories were being filed through before one was brought forth. "Micheal Vincere... the man that fell over the cliff with Percival. I remember him." She said firmly with a nod to follow Indeed.. consumed... it seemed to be easily explained as such but the condition were anything but simple and instead very complicated, complex, and odd. Then again, Danae was anything but normal by any standards. Much of the same could be said about Alen.. and in time, it would be learned of Claramae and Vincere. She turned to Clara then, a brow arching. "His injuries.. from them?" She asked, though, truthfully... Danae already knew, she just needed it to be confirmed. -d-

Claramae: ":One of them." She both answered and corrected Danae. While what they sought was a "them" the extent of this was caused only by a 'him'. One of them unraveled the mind of Michael Vincere down to its bare, stubborn hinges that kept the door on at all. "It only takes but one of them." Her voice was monotone, impossible to detect what emotion took prevealence but if one did, it would be the memory of watching Michael's memories subside. Danae would not know, not yet, of the entangled lives and old tales that went with this venture. In some sense, the stories were not hers to tell, though again they were. Fingertips pressed one against the other as she watched Vincere. His breath, the sounds he made as he slept she could hear from the distance; or at least, lover's memory manifested it well enough as she watched him. "He will never be as he was, nor will you. Heed that, in remaining here. You shan't be the same again. If there is some part you value, lock it away. Bury it. Or they shall give pause to consider what it is, and wrestle it from you." You are never alone, I promise. Alendral had said those words and yet she considered the ramifications of a promise she bid him consider the impossiblity of. "As you watch, you are being watched. As you observe, you are being observed. This world for all that lurks under silks and shadows is more violent, more cold, more deprived of humans than any other. We are not humans here, Lady Ranger. We become their facimilies, their ghosts." A preperation that Alendral had surely given though some would not outright believe. Humanity in this game was a sacred prize, if not a pride, an Order within the Order they belonged. To have known a hint of it was to not know how far it extended or if it was an act. To find that, it almost required a forsaking of normal expectation. (d)

Danae: Danae's eyes slowly turned to Claramae once more after having looked away briefly. She had been both answered and corrected, the ranger taking note of it very easily and nodded. What followed, had Danae's brows knitting together in deep thought as she looked back to Vincere. She was quiet... eeriely quiet and as he gaze drifted from man to woman and back, she knew that look. She knew that look very well and had worn it herself. It didn't take a genuis to see things like this no, but it did take a woman of her type to recognize that in another. "Any time any of us suffer the consquences of our actions, no matter how little or how great, we never really go back to who we once were." She said in reply at first. "But your warning has been heard, my decision to remain here is the same now as it was but not moments ago." She paused, looked to Claramae and with a look that could defy the devil himself, she spoke. "I have, and will refuse to any that wish to take what I do not want to give. That much I can promise." Danae knew the seriousness of this all, but still, the woman remained, proving that she was willing to give it her all to see this thing through. "I am no fool... I know the field here is much different than that of a battle field.. and I already know, that alone... I hold very little chance in succeeding to do what I must do.. but, together... each of us have something to bring to the table... something they can't defeat. In time, I'm sure that will be made clear." Danae's eyes turned back to Vincere, silently watching. -d-

Claramae: "You stand to lose even more of thyself, and the consequences There is little warning to one who needs not be warned, now is there. It is a preperation. Your decision is most admirable, and it is for this reason highest he elects you here. He is an admirer of idealism that is fostered by true beliefs equitable to a source. Conviction. That, in tandum with a relentless pursuit of things must make you suitable in company to him." The speeches Danae gave to her men must have been rousing. It was the engrained belief coupled with a blinding, mad set of skills that made her useful, if not the fact she had habit of pursuing things. She listened to the woman announce her decision to stay and the knowledge that she held very little chance, but to the table all things could be brought. "There in, good Ranger, is where you must strive to think differently. The table is set. The pieces are upon it, and long have we all been moving. There is nothing else to be brought, only a manipulation is what is here, what factors there are to be considered, to have been overlooked. You understand the principals of a hunt, so thus you can find half the nature of why it is referred to as The Hunt, or the Great Game. I am sure they know that Sorschal would outsource his hand, just as I am certain they know already in what ways they might draw you forth singularly." Watching Vincere, she gave a soft nod of her head. How odd it felt! How once long ago she had told Alendral this. "Your prey ought be known to you then, it is only fair. Sorschal may finish what I will begin. You are hunting the products of masters. One singular style that has been passed. We are likened unto any craft or guild. We take our noviates, they become apprentices, and in time masters of their own. These people uphold their master's work unto a priest with a bible. They are coniving, master manipulators, each instance is likened unto a puzzle. If it is solved it is taken with a great pride the master is pleased. They have come to make a signature for themselves, some, perhaps seek to become him in all things. There is at least one who is interested in finishing the work his great hero began, many years ago. In time these students forsake their lucidity early, like their master did, or it is proven they had none to begin with. Vincere was released because his first use is done, but he had a second use." (D)

Danae: Danae stood silently still, nodding occasionally as Claramae spoke, telling her things that were needed to be known. Things that perhaps would help her in the future against their adversary. Things that perhaps if and when time came and she was face to face with one who would see her end, she might can reach within the deepths of her mind and pull out one last useful resource. Slowy, her eyes turned to meet Claramae. "It takes a Master of sorts to see such qualities in another that they themselves possess." Meaning, Danae was indeed a master of many skills, but in this, even the copper skinned ranger knew that you learned something everyday. There was no arguing she was quite a woman... the best of her kind. And where she did lack in skill, she made of for it in intelligence. Perhaps not by books persay.. but by living, by expirecniceng it first hand. By having it instilled within her from men of her tribe, her heritage, her beliefs. Things that had been passed to her from one Talon to another and then to her. "All I can say is... I will see my duty fulfilled... before I take my last breath in this world and take the next in the world that follows, should it come to that. Even if it is at that very moment... " -d

Claramae: "It is an assembly of masters that makes for a war in the Great Game." Meaning it was easier to transfer knowledge to an adapt mind but hard to mold the novice mind. By God, she had no intention to forgo her tasks in the Order now. In Turas Lan were infants soon to be born, one given to her to shape, and quickly. Oh Sorschal, she thought, you should have gone so far beneath sight as to never have been seen again. She vied to secure him a place in Skye to protect him from one man, though woe he ever chose to go as far in as he had.. "Your honor is respected." Which was a hard thing to win with Claramae, though easier it seemed than the use of anything less than a formal title. :" Something akin to this was survived, many years ago, by Sorschal and I" Barely. Details disolved as the sun dried the dew on he grass. Enough vunerability had been revealed to Danae from a perch high atop Potree, no doubt. A moment in time where one looked unlike stone was a rare moment indeed. "I wish you success in your part of this venture. I wish you luck." (d)

Danae "If its a war they want... then its a war they will get... be it with many or only myself. And though I am no one man army... I have my own wrath of hades to bring with me." The words, they were spoken so clearly, so definate, and stern. Danae knew exactly what she was getting herself into, knew from the start and now the picture was painted more clearly. Still.. she wasn't one to turn, tuck her tail between her legs and run. Oh hell no... anyone and everyone that knew her, knew she could be much worse then the hounds of hades. Hounds only had a vicious bite, where as hell cats ad both the bite and the claws. Give her reason to bare teeth and claws.. you'd regret it. "Without honor... or valor... a man has no real worth. No reason to fight, without reason to fight, there is no reason to live, and without reason to live... there is nothing to love, which only takes you back to the beginning. If a man lovesnothing, he has nothing to fight for. It is of course a never ending circle." These were things of course that her father had taught her. To give all in protecting all that was dear. In Danae's eyes, that was a many of things. She would of course nod to Claramae. "Thank you." As there was nothing else to say on that. Success and luck in the icy blue hues of the copper skinned Greek, was her fate held in the hands of her Gods. -d-

Claramae: "Hold fast to those things. This world has little honor, valor is little to do with it. It is necessity, precision, function, and excellence. Hold fast to those beliefs, and your mask. We do to ours. It will be hard at times to know what is real and what is not, even with us. Bare it and you may find what you seek on the other side." With a cant of head in acceptance of that thanks, she slid away. It was as if she were there beside her one moment, and in the next the most elaborate figment of her imagination. The shutter, too, over the room and face of Michael Vincere was closed. So, too, was the world that found her steadfast at his side, as she had been for longer than any knew. It found her loving, living a life that was not as open as it was to Danae. Two women. So very similar, but in this way different. The right to live beyond secrecy in the art of secrecy was one that came hard frought, hard pressed. Envied for but often not acquired. They confront their lovers with faces that must be torn only to find another, and another. Their associates are close, enemies are closer, and the troubling thing would be the things that would have to be done to learn how much one cared - if ever. Yet this was their passion, what they excelled at. Public faces and occupations were but fronts of the things that lured them in. (d)



Danae: Danae wouldn't even have the need to look as her senses were quick to let her know how quickly the woman at her side had vanished like the mist in a slowly heating day. In the wake of the woman's presence, Danae would still speak. "Oh.. I will... and once I hold on to something... I don't let go so easily." She said in a whisper. The shutter was closed before her, Danae would turn, lean against the wall there and cross her arms a moment. Those icy blue huesslowly drifted about the area, coldly, harshly, as if silently warning all those that had and were still watching her and the others. Passion... is was something this woman had always held in her possessions, but only given to a those she thought worthy of it, or the skills she masterd and enjoyed. Living within the arms of nature, having little care to time's beckoning, connectioning with the souls of both the land and its inhabitants. These were all the things that set her aside, that made her so very different than others. These were the things, along with many others she vowed to protect the day she took the oath as a ranger. Only now, life had found her giving other oaths, oaths she would equally hold high and keep. -d-

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

Mayhem Amidst Moonlight; Finale of the Others

Alendral: The reaction to the events that passed were almost methodical in nature. Alendral went to ground. it was the only thing he could do given the circumstances. Being watched and not knowing who meant that you never knew when you were safe and when you weren't It made you paranoid, always with one eye over your shoulder. Dread, worse, his very worst fears were confirmed by the reappearance of Michael. It wans't Kryptmann's style. not him, not Rivnor, or any of the others. There was a playfulness in this, one that could only mean one man. God, the one man he didn't want to be involved, the one he prayed wasn't. Let the phantom stay the phantom, above all else. God. So it was that he'd check up on Clara. He had not visited her in hours--couldn't. He knew what facing her meant. Despite all his efforts, he could find nothing--they were no closer to discovering how he was released. No way but forward, the way a spy hated most. He knew the place she was looking after him, and chose only now to appear, careful to be both cautious and not so surreptious as to have the woman strike in fear of a retaliation--delicate and risky gambit to say the least.

Danae Danae managed to linger in her spot for a few moments, perhaps longer than she had intended to. After a short time, she found herself a nice quiet little spot outside of said building to keep watch to say the least. Staying out of plain sight of course, yet knowing even in trying to keep hidden, it might prove to be useless. That didn't mean Danae was going to make things any easier for them. No... she was the type that made people work for what they wanted when it came to her. No matter the reason behind it and it applied to all... friend or foe. Many could testify to that of course as she was a hard woman to deal with on even the simplest of things. She knew of his presence, even Not anything that wasn't a smart ass remark, which of course... given the time and place, wasn't exactly what anyone needed right now. She had checked in on Clara and Micheal occasionally, but remained to give them their privacy, and would continue to do so until it was known otherwise. -d-

Claramae: Reactions to events, in passing, had been mixed. Yet, they resulted in the formation of the almost indifferent outer exterior that was indicative of focus. The Great Game was being played, The Hunt of all Hunts was a'foot and the roles of hunter and prey were being changed all the time. New players arrived as gargoyle watchers on rooftops that conversed with nobility hued black cats. The missing's return created more points to retrive. Her mind returned then to every step they had ever taken, every avenue ever crossed. Dark clothes had not changed from one night to the next, all that did was the item soiled with blood to be another piece of feminine garb in midnight. Through an odd (for it hardly was this way) dangling curtain of brown, eyes cut of that and mixed hazels ascertained enough to knoe the shadow, the time and care to tresspass made him admissable. "I did not realize I was the source of such fascinations Would you be so kind as to invite your friend within?" Alendral would think she had gone senile if she did not push back the shutter herself. "It is not yet full spring and the night's are still thick with mists. She could catch chill, I wager the Lady Ranger would prefer to remain in tip-top form" (d)

Alendral: He had said nothing to the idle play, the irony being such sentiment was the closest Clara would ever dare to a joke, which meant the situation was more dire than ever. But the surprise in his reply, acid, in return. "I was actually considering leaving her in the chill as punishment. " but at all that he would instead only slip by the window long enough to stare daggers at her, black-clad, a far cry from the dapper illusionist she might have known. Turning aside from the window in silence, he replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "Not a trace. Nobody has seen the man here, nor has there been any sign that he was held anywhere near here. Like he emerged from the mist himself." He thought to ask her of his state, but felt it meaningless between them. He knew he was unwell--he knew that fact weighed heavily on her mind. He wanted very badly to console the woman as he had done before, but there was too much at stake. Krause wanted them to turn inward, that was his goal. He could serve a thousand times better as eyes in the night than as a confidant for which Clara would very likely say very little. Crossing arms over his chest and waiting for the ranger to join them at her leisure, he'd lean back and grimace. in quick, tense motions he withdrew a single sheath of parchment and sent it her way--the message left for him, by an unseen force.

Danae: Punishment... just who the hell did he take her for? Some weakling of a woman that couldn't handle a little chill? The woman had slept in mountains covered in snow, so it would hardly be considered a punishment. At the permission granted her for entry, daggers and all, she stared back just as hard and narrowed her eyes in doing so. The gaze broke and inside the ranger moved. She'd not take the liberty of seating herself, no, instead she continued to stand. Remaing quiet all the same as her eyes drifted from one to the other and back. A gloved hand stretched forth, taking the parchment he offered and she allowed her form to rest up against the wall beside her. The paper was uncoiled, eyes of the fiercest ice blue showed movement as mind took in words. Face was void of any indication to what she was feeling at the moment. Once the information was had, she moved to close the distance between them to hand it back to him. Arms crossed over her chest, hands tucked beneath the layers of clothing. So now..all she had to do was wait to see what would come next. There was little she could say on the matter, as she was here to help and could only do that when whatever was needed was made known, when needed. For now, she suspected it was nothing but stand back andlisten, learn. -d-

Claramae "Let us not forget our manners, now that we are a three and not two, tis imperative to give good impressions." Danae entered in, and for the sake of things she had moved Michael's bed from beneath the window to the a different wall. In fact, as most rooms, the changes were subtle but the environment was altered to suit use. Environmental alteration was one of her most accute specilties. To change things in such a way as to appear they were never touched at all. "You may both sit, if you like," her hands were folded one atop the other, resting over the skirt folds until it was her turn to read the piece of paper that came on a mysterious plane. As it was uncoiled in the ranger's hands was when she began to scruitinize it at a distance. Danae found that thus far she stood in a place where the obvious was not made known. "May I, if you please?" She wished to survey the note up close. Wooden walls had been hung with some simple tapestry to keep the air from permeating, thin as they were, pieces of string rubbed together to make strange whistles. "The quality of the note in the partial light hints to what more may be revealed in full light. Given that it is him, isn't it?" Slight rise of eyebrow, a thought on style, situation. "Of all of them, it would have to be him." (d)

Alendral: For all her impassiveness, Alen made little show of being pleased. He continued to glare harshly at her, saving his riposte, it would seem, for another time and turning subtly to look upon Claramae. "I was a fool to wish that he would not be involved in this. It's clear. He's entered the game... Just when the timing suited him. Precisely when we were at our place 'least capable of dealing with him." He sighed lightly, passing another venomous look to the Ranger, as he said, bluntly. "... I know the words are meaningless here, but we should consider a withdrawal. The fate of the lady will be regrettable, but if Krause is any way involved than we will demonstrate our hand too early . Given this, we may wish to consolidate. If Kryptmann is working with him.." and now he turned to other matters, turning to Claramae, plainly furious. "And you shouldn't be here at all. I told you that I would call for you and your men when time was right, and I was specific in my instruction, and you came here anyway. Is this assistance you're offerring or are you playing at a mere game here?"

Danae: After nodding and passing the note to Claramae when she asked for it, Danae moved back to her prior position and stance. Allowing the two to speak freely and without interupption. The looks he gave her though, did not go unnoticed, no, in fact she matched them with her own. "Don't you dare look at me like that. And what the hell kind of question is that? Of course its assistance.. but.. seeing as you think I'm not taking this seriously.. I can and will leave. I just thought that someone... with skill... needed to trail as a precautionary. If you don't want me here... then say it... " She replied before looking between him and Claramae. " but... I want it to be something you both agree upon... if you are going to do something... don't half ass it, especially when it concerns me, my skills, my men and the use they all offer." She retorted as she her tone had not raised in the slightest. In fact, it was just as calmas could be, showing she did and could control that temper of hers. Where it was void in voice, in was present in her eyes. The stare.. glare.. whatever one wished to call it. -d-

Claramae: "You were asked, so thus you have place. Though my recommendation is, Lady Ranger, being one of a wild hand pays him no help. There may come a time for it, and if that time is evident it will be heir apparent. But you must be able to heed his instruction." Claramae came into possession of the letter as she spoke. Eyes traveled from the top of it to the bottom, and while her mind straddled logistics it remained in the present, with them. She picked up an unlit candle, and offering to the low flames of the fireplace held it to the back of the letter to confirm her suspcions. Sub-texts. A picture, too. It was Krause. Kryptmann wouldn't go through this much trouble. It was taxing to utilize subversive tactics, riddles, puzzles, and prolonged esbionage with his murder. Krause remained eerily Gottschalk's "perfect" acolyte. "And mine. Should it come to such a thing. Just as if we were within the woodsand you were to track us home, so you are now in our world. You may track a person when all you track truly is air. You may hold proof something happened when it is really nothing. Just as one might rely 'pon your skills, you relyheavily on his guidance here." He was not wrong in his seeking but patience was a virtue that the Ranger was going to be subjected too almost by force with Alendral. "Come here, you both. I want to show you something." She walked over to a small table, opening a case where she pulled out a thin vial. Opening it, a clear, thick liquid with murky middle was spread out over the note. Lines were forming under the text..as if it were the road turning toward hidden places. "This, Lady Ranger, is why you must heed, or you will put the lives of the men you so value in peril. Michael," a first name, on her mouth. No fluctuation in emotion, but the gesture of it symbolic. "was a legionaire. He was my second. But look you to last night, to what became of so proud a man in the General's service. Unless you possess the ability to decipher layers within layers of writing, to see when nothing begs be seen in a world where each finer detail truly is imperative, then give pause. Ah, see there." She pointed to Sorschal, then to her, "It is a road. Onto the next village, yet there is no proof of what lays beyond. Michael did not come from Potree, he came to it. And as of the other Lady, she is dead. The entire house was dead." The note was passed to Alendral as she went to uncover something of her own. The maddening part was, despite Michael Vincere's condition she put herself intact enough to move independent of any grief or woe. Indeed, the door behind the tapestry led them to the other room where in Maxamillion Voltaire covered three bodies. One of a dead infant. Another of a and older child, slit throats. The child's was a terrible display of screaming, struggle, jagged lines where the mother was a deep, clean slice. Albiet, one of her eyes had been stabbed out. They'd died, slowly, drained of blood, necks snapped from hanging in a tree." This is not his style, the Lady's family and the lady herself are bound in this by Petrov. Krause has taken on second edition, and one in dimensia, by the looks of it." (d)

Alendral: He opened his mouth to do just that--to force Danae away entirely, to make her hate him for the sake of keeping her away, but Claramae's words forestalled his efforts. He grimaced as the lines blossoed, the hidden message from the prodigy, literally instructing them where to go next. It was garish and horrible, the kind of move some idiot amatuer might make--but with Krause, the gesture was terrifying. "Krause has Gottschalk's prediliction for hunting other spies, not torturing housewives. And Kryptmann would not bother with theaterics for what he considersly only meat. That means there's a third. We're already outmanuevered and at a disadvantage. You know what the old master wouldsay in this circumstance." In every way they were at a disadvantage. "Our entire plot here is undone..."

Danae: Her eyes had moved between the pair, but came to settle on Alendral. Only when Claramae spoke, did she look to her and even then, the action had been slow. "I'll be the first to admit my mistake here... but I ..we... could not allowthe two of you to go without some sort of assistance... granted it was now or later." She said with a reply. The word we, well... it could describe many things here. Something she would fail to further elaborate on and let them come to their own conclusions on. "And I promise... fro here on out... no more trouble. You will have my complete and absolute ability to follow and do as instructed." It was then she moved when Claramae asked for them to draw near. Danae's eyes following where the woman instructed them to. Nodding slowly and seeing what she was pointing out. However, now the ranger would go back to her quiet and observing manner. Listening as they spoke on those already involved and those they suspected. -d-

Claramae: "Yes, so we must begin again. At the same time, I feel as though Kruase shall have his own unpredictability to deal with. A sloppy kill makes not for a student, so it must be another. A rouge agent." The door was just about to be sealed to the second room when from his sleep Michael let out a terrible groan. please...she isn't dead. gods..why must you torchure... then nothing. He held her in his arms, and knew she wasn't dead. Nightmares however werethings that would be replayed again and again. "A need said agent is fufilling. Whatever the reason, there stands no reason why Mistress Rose herself may not be next on the chopping block, either by Kruase to keep her silence and this rogue, for personal reasons." Her eyes were given the luxury of closing for the nature of adjusting to the light, for injesting there is nothing I will tell you....what the hell are you talking about? I don't know what Gottschalk..AHHH He was relieving it in nightmares. "Before there can be an advance, at least for one of us there must be a withdrawal first. I have to take the bodies back to Turas Lan, and install a watch around the woman. To look where we have been for what you know, as well as you must have ascertained by now, Lady Ranger, what we've missed." She had no hope for Larkin, for he would not be comin gout of thin air as Michael had, for he was far too valuable. I don' tknow...I don't know him. Students..what students.. "Voltaire, please, grant him the boon of a dreamless sleep." (d)

Alendral: "Agreed. It shall be as such. Return to Turas Lan. Danae will follow you." There was no question on the act of that. Danae would follow her back and that was how it would be. "In the mean time I'll see what I can find. You are absolutely not to leave another's side. " Of course he knew Krause would not strike at Claramae when she returned. Knew it too well, and paranoia would serve no purpose here. There were entirely other reasons for it and he would speak of them to no one. "I want to see if I can find some errant clue. Find some upper hand to levy on Krause, but if we're lucky, one may hide where three are only too visible. " It pained him to send Clara alone with her
AIendral: damaged lover, but there was twisted logic in his plans, the kind that both of them would try and talk him out of if he spoke of it. But they didn't need to know.

Danae: Danae's arms returned back to folding over her form. Her eyes drifitng back and forth between then two, as she felt sorry for the loss of innocent life to the family that was viewed moments ago. Of course, such a feeling would not be made notable to either of them. Besides, it was nothing knew to her... to see the bodies of innocent people lay slain. Death singled out no one gender, no one race, no particular age. It came in many forms and in many ways, some to which the ranger knew, and others... like this... she was not. Eyes then moved to Vincere as his dreams lay claim to his mind. Head canting slightly, yet nothing was said and no expression given. As orders and plans were made known, Danae then looked to Alen and simply nodded. First instinct had been to ask what of him, but again, she was quick to remember her place and gave no voice to her wanting to question him. Not question him in the sense of disrepect like a Commander to General.. but question as from someone of concern. College, friend... there were several ways it could be looked at. "Then follow her I will." -d-

Claramae: "Then we shall be as associates. Thus, you are now within The Game, Lady Ranger." A cant of head respectful, a deeper nod to Alendral in acknowledgement of command. The company, oddly, was appreciated to the extent of persons filling space to leave no empty places to hide in. The sound of people. One would pray then Danae wouldn't find Claramae poor company. The master acknowledged a place by allowing the student to have his earned place of superiority. "I shall leave in the morning." Michael fell asleep at last, recovering pieces of himself scattered across space. "If either of you seek it before further business is done, there is bread, stew, just yon." She lived off of little as it was, and currently survived on little more than water or tea. (d)

[Ursula Darling]

Alendral: Sending Vance to look after Marke was a bad idea. Alen was just now realizing it. If Vance disliked Ursula before, he was downright certain in his assessment now. His exact words being. The kind of stupid, over-entitled arrogant bastard that made thievin' so enjoyable. That Marke was some wayward spy, some deviant out to defile the poor woman, some nasty little monster, no, all that would have made things entirely easier. He was just a man--a spoiled nobleman with a perchant for playing games, buying pretty women simply because he could. The kind of subtle dangerous that Alen not only detested, but found more entangling to deal witih than a more straightforward threat. So it was that he would request Ursula's company, leaving her with a simple address, just to change the pace a little. Of course, when she received her directions--whatever she was expecting, opulent noble houseprobably wasn't it. The Ebony Hall was at once utterly devious and unassuming--its splendor and opulence a testament to some wayward fortune--a far cry from what the purpose actually served, as the Members training ground and haven for infilitration. Once she arrived a few servants would politely smile and lead her to an elegant ballroom, a mirrored hall engraved with various designs, a subtle Greek and roman influence. And sitting at a lone table, a wry grin on his shoulders was the Magician, clad in fine robes and silk, one leg slung over the other, a lax contrast to what was otherwise a place where formality was demanded. There was purpose in asking her here of course, if only to pay lip service to Vance. the subtle need to remind her what he asked of her, perhaps.. and further, to gauge how she would react when the full implications of her responsibility would serve. "Thought we'd change the setting a little bit. The Lily is so nice a place and all but we could use a little variety. " he called out. "Like it?"

Ursula: Ursula was a woman of many talents and only a fair few had gone far enough to find out what those talents were and most of the time they were outside of the bedroom. Yet few knew the woman to be a lover of horses and since Moira had rescued some from some...fire..even Ursula did not know much of the details besides seeing the Lily's still set in their duties, she had taken up riding again, going as far to use some of her 'hard' earned wages to buy herself a fine riding habit of a champagne color complete with a small like color woman's top hat. It was in fact perhaps one of the very pieces of clothing she actually owned herself and a favorite. Included with loving to ride, she saw chance to wear it and ride whenever possible. When the notice came from Alen she had just returned only to turn around and order her horse saddled once more. While the address was not known to her it was not particular hard to find and in truth, even she was looking forward to solving the mystery of just what the Ebony Hall was for. With riding crop behind her back, clutching on with both hands, she followed the servants into the mirrored ballroom, even as she saw Alen there, capturing the look of him for just one split second before she was twirling as she moved towards him to look around, even catching herself in the mirrors dotting the walls about the room. Now this was a place she could like. A grin curled her lips as she faced him once more. "Oh yes, a change from the four walls of my bedroom..." The tease curled her lips but really the question was quite plain on her face. She had not seen him now for how long? Since he had shown up with a black eye and asked, no demanded to know about Jonathan and rightly so. Such information had been hard to give up but she had come to peace with it and was ready to do as was needed to begin anew, even rid them of Jonathan. "Like it? Like would not be the word.." She twirled around, taking in everything for a second time. "You know that place in a dream, where you know your dreaming but the dream is to good...that you don't care...don't want to wake up, that feeling...that's this..But.."She stopped in her twirl to face him again. "I sincerely doubt you called me here to discuss architecture.."

Alendral: "Hah. A dream. Oh you have no idea. " he pointed subtly. "Go to that mirror, third one from the less, and press on the framing. Try not to smudge it, please." he smirked lightly again and leaned back on his chair. Oh how he loved the theatrics of it all. "The primary purpose of this place is to inspire such a thing. Dreams of fortune and vast wealth, all on the markets of Skye. quite believable for a port town mind you, but I found Skye's halls strangely sparse for how much fortune changes hands here. but that's not its primary purpose." Following his instructions would reveal a secretive doorway, a sparse, stone hall that extended into darkness, a single torch hitched to the wall, meant to provide passage. "...And beneath all the gold and light, a web of shadows. Welcome to my training hall, Ursula. Think of as... a play to rehearse. To ply our trades. Old houses like these are typically full of bolt-holes and passages should the rabble come knocking, but I admit they're exaggerated here. There are dozens of tunnels like these, leading to nearly every part of the hall. The mirrors..." he pointed, grinning. "Besides being gorgeous, particularly reflecting you a few dozen times over, are meant to provide complete surveillance. Nearly every angle, nearly every corner of this place can be observed... should someone only know where to stand." he indicated around him. "Look closer. Nowhere to hide one self while out here. Avoid the view. There are even things that reflect on the ceiling, should there be too many for a clear view. In the proper place, a skilled spy can observe each.. and every person in the hall. All while playing a part of the.. prosperous lord or the entirely fetching noblewoman. My designs, naturally--well, mine and the Lady St. Laurence. I'm quite impressed with how it turned out, all said and done. "Welcome to your home away from home, my dear Lady Darling. You stay with me and you'll learn to move through these halls seemlessly, its secrets and whispers... and, in doing so, you can learn to play any part, to move amongst the crowds, to learn their secrets--to play at them, all in the name of protecting friends, loved ones and countrymen. " he admitted it, he was making it sound a little glamorous--but it was hard to keep his enthusiasm wholly in check. "Care to sit? A glass of wine, perhaps? Good stuck, I assure you. I got these from some... scheming little Frenchwoman looking to stake out some claim in this place. Bit of a snob, but she kept good stock."

Ursula: The grin curled one side of her lips as he seemed to like the idea of her response. Moving where he bid and by his words, she pressed the frame of the mirror, though with the riding crop so she wouldn't smudge it. Lightly her body jerked as the mirror slid back to reveal the passageway. Her head poked in momentarily before she retreated a step, as if the darkness of the hall would come in and swallow her whole if she dared go further but somehow she knew the path she was trekking on now would perhaps leading her all ready down a dark path. She didn't seem to mind it but the way he spoke of it, did indeed make it seem glamorous. Taking another step back, she turned to again observe the room as he spoke. Taking in what he said and indeed, there was no place to hide. "Are these two way mirrors then? Can people see their reflection here and someone else see into the room from the passageways?" Being an actress meant her mind was at its peak, taking in and storing information with ease and just as easily pulled up later in the need for it. "Home away from home..strangely I like the sound of that. I have only seen the hall and this room and all ready I like this place. I don't know, seems odd, but seems like a building that...matches me. Though I know you designed it with purpose and none of me was used but secret passage ways...masks so to speak.." She turned from the passageway to move towards him. "Ah, stick with you and learn all this, do I detect that someone missed me?" She couldn't help but to tease him, it just seemed to come so easily and the truth of the matter was, they hardly got to tease one another as it was. Business was serious, Jonathan was serious and yet they seemed to slip a tease in there every once in a while, seeming to hint to one another that though a tease was there, though their conversations could be wholly business, wholly important, it did not take away affection. "I don't usually indulge in wine and impair my thinking, but...something tells me I am to need it so I will accept" She spoke as she slid the riding crop onto the table and pulled a chair out from across from him before the skirts of the habit were shifted and she lowered herself into the chair. "What's this all about Alen? While all this talk of secret passageways and learning secrets has no doubt been thrilling and...I might add somewhat of a much needed brag for you. Something tells me that's not why you asked me here.." Her head turned, the singular ponytail of her hair swayed, falling over one shoulder to land against the alabaster skin of her neck and throat which was displayed quite elegantly within the square cut neck of the riding habit.

Alendral: "Very observent. " he smiled. "Right, there are a few of these, though not too much as to be obvious. You're taking to this quite naturally." and with accepted compliments, smiling cattily and pouring him a glass of wine. "There's a trick to it, Ursula. The trick is, never drink as much as you act like you're drinking, and drink less than the one you drink with. Punctuate your words with the glass, play with it, but never drink until they drink. Easier to get away with as a woman anyhow, I admit, but all the same. " though playfully he'd coke his head back and take a rather undignified swig of the stuff, which wasn't how one was to drink at all. It was too bad she got to the heart of the matter so quickly. Combined with her attire, and it felt nearly five years ago again. The cyclic nature of what was happening was hard to ignore. He stared at her meaningfully for a moment and shook his head. "God, you're clever. I mean that. Your talents have been almost wasted as an accomplice of this bastard. Hell, there are few roles that could aptly be worth your cleverness. You're right. " he squared his shoulders and sihed lightly again, a pang of nostalgia mingling with guilt into a strange coketail, leveling his eyes to her. "I didn't bring you here for that... at least not precisely. It was true that I had missed your company, yes, but I've not been lounging about in my abscence. I've caught your old acquaintance. Or rather, I will catch him. Sufficed to say, that matter will be handled. Unfortunately Ursula, I have to say, I've also discovered that the terms of me handling the matter have not entirely been met, and you know it. So I asked you here to answer for it, and give me reason as to why this.. Lord Marke, makes one last visit and leaves insufferably pleased with himself."

Ursula: "Knowing my instincts was never a proble m Alen, it is trusting them.." She shifted in the seat to pour herself a glass of wine as she wasn't about to make him do it. At the moment they were friends, an odd pairing but he would very well become her teacher, her his pupil. Taking the glass into hand, she slid back in the chair, elegantly crossing one ankle under the other as she swirled the contents of the glass with sutle a sutle jerk of her wrist as she listened. "I had never thought of that. A lesson..or rather a trick well learned." She rose the glass in salute to him before taking a sip and again, leaning it down to swirl it absently with a jerk of her wrist. A grin slid across her lips at the compliment, touched briefly by a small flush of scarlet against her cheeks. She didn't take compliments often or at least ones she could accept to heart and with truth. "Actually, whatever plans you have for Jonathan, I'd like to offer another solution.."she paused, her head tilting just so at his words. Lord Marke? Ah now she got it. "You asked me to end it, I did not think you meant with Lord Marke, I thought you meant the plot Jonathan had for him..I seem to get it now. That was a mistake on my part." While she wanted to take the trick to heart and try it out for herself, the glass rose and she took a large swallow, holding it in her mouth before letting it slide down her throat in one large gulp. "I did have intentions to end my...dealing with Marke completely but the man is insufferable and used to getting way..I told him the truth, I told him about Jonathan and about what we, Jonathan and I, had planned for him. Seems he knew all along. That also spurred my idea for handling Jonathan, as I told you I wanted to be apart of it. When your ready to hear this plan of mine, I will indulge you but we'll handle this first one yes? Marke and I have an..."she paused to find the right word. "Odd..affection for each other. I enjoy his company, we have particular tastes that suit each other in the bedroom and I rather enjoy his company outside of the bedroom as well. So while he was inclined to...forgive and forget, my part in what was to be his downfall, I saw no reason to continue to push him away. I will have you know, I did try...I told him I did not want to hurt him, that I was dangerous, but the man is not inclined to believe it or rather, does not care." Her head lifted from the lean as she smiled once more. "That being said, I've forgotten to mention, I have missed you too...its odd not having you around more often but seeing this place, I have no doubts you've been quite busy, not just this place but in other work as well.."

Alendral: "Ursula. a word of advice. You can't prove cleverness a hundredfold in one hand and feign ignroance in the other. " He replied, blunt, harsh. If it was one thing he would not tolerate, it was twisting of his words, it was subtle spy games. The truth, as it happened, would come later, but for now he'd have no word play. "I ask you to trust my judgement in telling me your own truth." he smiled. "Sufficed to say, I did miss you... but this act concerns me. That he is aware of the games you play does not surprise me. Games are all the man plays." he shrugged again and sighed. "Far be it from me to pass judgement on your bedroom procivities and the company you keep, but if there is one thing I might caution of you of, Ursula, it's that you decide whether you wish your life to pursue affections of this nature in your spare time or partake in the life I offer. To say that your life will not be unhinged from its present state when we begin would be to lie, utterly. You will... experience hardship. You will do things that you may find little pride in, deception... darker arts. In some ways what I ask of you isn't so different from what Jonathan is ask you, only that I will never force you and it will always be to safeguard the people we care about. I tell you all this and I leave one more warning: He is a risk for you. He goes where the wind blows, and where his amusement takes him. If he discovers what you do for me and feels some slightment, he may seek to take advantage of you for it. If you seek in him in... some... solace, some day, something more meaningful, you'll find a void. And... if you are affectionate enough... well, sufficed to say, Spies do not choose lovers lightly, 'lest they find it turned to their advantage. That's all I'll say. " Sufficed to say, he didn't approve--or apparently, like this Marke fellow at all--but he wasn't about to lay down an edict of the woman. "Just remember how your relationship started with the man, and ask yourself how it may very well end." He leaned back and took another sip. "Tell me your idea."

Ursula: "Just so we have it clear and upon the table, I have never been and do not intend to ever been untruthful with you Alen. You've earned my respect a hundred times over and in that, my respect enough not to play games with you. Your perhaps one of only three people who have seen me without a mask on, not playing any type of games." Again her head tilted but this time she was thinking more on his words then trying to figure things out. "What I know of Marke is he does not like to play games, so if you've information on him that I do not. I would hope, you would trust me enough to tell me and allow me to disturn my own thoughts on the matter." She slid forward to place the glass upon the table and cup her hands before her, before her clasped hands were raised to her face, pressed against her lips as she fell silent again in going over what he said within her mind. "I've no doubt he is a free spirit, I've no doubts, that if the opportunity arose to use me in some way he would take it, he all ready has. He is an.."she paused, laughing as she shook her head and pushed up from the chair, tired of sitting"arrogant self absorbed ass with privilege and wealth on his side and yet he is bored with both and unwilling to give it up...but I am much the same way, without the wealth and privilege...bored, with the way life has taken me and then you show up and give me this opportunity to change my life and I have to say, it is a life that would suit me. Hardships and dark ambitions...I've done them both, I've fought through both and still made it out on top, or at least alive...its about as on top as a person like me can go. I know how my relationship started with him Alen, I was there.."chocolate eyes fell on to her mentor and teacher and a grin pulled at her lips, only slightly. "You know me..I've no doubts you know as much about it as any person can, you know my views on life, on...God..on love. I don't love. If you fear I'll fall in love with him and want to leave you...leave this life you've got planned for me, you are wrong. He has been born to privilege and with that comes certain obligations...he can never marry me. I know how the story will end Alen, not in my favor, he will marry; for money, power, wealth, whatever but it will not be me and nor do I have any wild fantasies of such a thing. Even you though have an alibi...most people don't know your a spy, they only see you as a magician. Wouldn't you think then that I need to have my own? I can not be out in the open as a Spy, then who would get near me? I must play the part of a courtesan...and who would you trust to be my client even for the shadow of the world to see, even if not real then him? I understand you see him as a risk for me...but he knows nothing of what I'm to do with my life..nor do I plan to tell him. The question is though, are you making me choice between this life and him?" Clasping her hands at her stomach, she turned from her little wandering as she spoke to face him completely. "We need Marke to get close to Jonathan..you won't...can't do it on your own. I don't have to get Marke's money...only convince Jonathan I have it..there is a cottage outside of town, abandoned for quite some time. I can convince him I have it, this is where Marke comes in, we need him to go to that cottage, Jonathan must see him there to believe me, after he thinks I have the money, he'll go to kill Marke, now Marke does not need to stay at the cottage to pull this off, but once he is there. Well...then we can eliminate him as we see fit...and yes I do mean we...more then likely he will want me to go..he's sent someone after you Alen, told you to keep away from me. Proof enough that he doesn't trust me much anymore, I can guarantee you, he'll want me to go as insurance that nothing is waiting for him...although naturally, you will be." Her voice had long lost its seductive and purring tone it usually had. She had long stop caring about the life or death of Jonathan Fox.

Alendral: Alendral paused a moment, stared at her meaningfully before shaking his head. "No. No. If there is one thing I will do differently from the man Ursula, it's that I make no claim of you, even as I take you under my teaching. I merely wished to speak to you as a voice of experience. This craft will... complicate matters. I wish to see you flourish, that is all." he wouldn't explain past that--though in truth he had no real idea how to explain his genuine affection for the woman, if it was in some ways marekedly different from the way 'Marke' felt affection for her."And I never would never ask that you let go of your.. current trade, as a cover. It will be of use to you, and I have no such reservations. Your life is yours Ursula... I only ask that when your loyalty counts.. it's to me, to us." he closed his eyes then and slipped into listening mode. In truth, he didn't need to go to such lengths to ensare Jonathan--honsetly, he was fairly sure he could deal with him wholly alone, but there was merit in her plan--it was a sure thing, for one, and an accurate test of her abilities. He had to admit, it was well thought out for someone new to it. A textbook ambush, relying on what she knew of Jonathan to enact it. She recognized the flaws in it, and adapted. Again, every time she spoke he was reminded of why he saw what he saw in her--as well as why he liked her so damned much. "...Hmm. I have to admit, I'm impressed. going to have to skip some of my earlier lessons, so impressed. I agree with your strategy, and I'll do my part in it as you have it. But I am afraid I must insist that Marke must not know of my involvement. He can't be there when we finish the job. Seeing me conduct my work will risk too much, nor can he even have a hint of what's below my own cover. I wll of course, provide a few extra precautions, for your safety. I hope you'll indulge me in that." Which meant having Vance as well, just in case--he wouldn't like it, but he'd follow orders.

Ursula: "If there is one certainty you can rest on, it is my loyalty to you. I will never betray you and I hope you can believe that." She took the chance then to smile at him, no she was not teasing him this time and nothing in the way she said the words said anything more then whole truth. "I'm quite flattered by your wish to see me flourish...as well as protect me. You've not said it, but instinct tells me that is partly the reason and you've no idea what that means to me. To know your affection, in whatever respect it may be, warrants you wanting to protect me." She let out a laugh then"No need to skip lessons, even if its a review for me and a full blown lesson for others. I'd know all that you have to teach me. So promise me, never leave anything out, no matter how much you think I all ready know.." Again her cheeks flushed somewhat to the compliment, she always took compliments lightly, that was to say she didn't argue them no matter how much she disagreed with it. "I agree with you, Marke should not be there when it happens. I will do my best to see he is not. If for both our sakes. So neither of our covers are blown. At your request as well, I'll indulge you and let you provide extra safety. I am after all your most prized pupil correct?" Here her head jerked, a noble chin poked outward as her fingers brushed against the fabric of her shoulder, this alone was a complete tease meant for her enjoyment and meant to humor him.

Alendral: He let himself smile, a genuine hint, however brief. "Fair enough. " which was why Vance was there as well--if Marke did show up, Vance could act on Alendral's behalf, at least somewhat. To her last quip, he grinned moderately and folded his arms. Hesitant. "...Yes. Ursula. You are. And I may never be capable of telling you why that is. You might never come to understand it... but you are. No matter what else comes to pass, you should know that. " it was a strange thing to say--he wasn't even sure why he would say it. He wasn't even sure what it meant, but it flowed unbidden. His faith in her represented something. a chance at making it right. At ending a legacy and continuing another, even though he had never thought of it. It was terrifying, left him feeling terribly exposed and weak, and yet he had to pursue it. He could put no words to it. He wouldn't dare voice how he really felt--that in some way, his hopes and dreams rested squarely on her, but she should know that. "... You think little of yourself, you know, for all facade otherwise. I suspect you haven't thought much of yourself a fair amount of your life. That's why you allowed someone to control him. So... if I'm right in that observation, that's my second reason for bringing you here. To affirm you of it. You are... so much more than you know, and I only hope... that I can bring some fraction of it out, so that you may find the rest. You are capable of greatness, Ursula."

Ursula: "Come now Alen, I would see you smile more. I like it when you smile...for all purposes and in somehow knowing dark days head, I would have your smiles to remember." She turned fully to him and dipped, kneeling down as she lay her hands upon his folded arms, looking up at him much like a little sister would a big brother even though their affection for one another had no title it could rightly go by. "When enough people, and enough bad things are said about you..you begin to believe it. The good things are harder to believe. Have you ever noticed that?" Again she smiled? Another game? Another quip of a tease? Hardly, it was Ursula opening up once more, letting even more of herself be seen by her mentor. "I'm trying though, as you've never lied to me, I have no reason to think otherwise of what you say..but the good things...are hard to accept." She granted him one more smile before her hands were squeezing at his arms. "So...can you show me more secrets of this place or would that be cheating in the grand scheme of things?"

Alendral: He allowed himself the ghost of one in response, though he found it harder and harder to smile as days went by. "For us, maybe. And that's why it's so important that we speak of them to each other. To remember they exist. " He took a hand to rest atop hers for a moment, smiling and linking his arms with a wry grin. "Oh, I don't know, perhaps a few can't hurt, there are certainly secrets to spare in such a place. " To that he'd rise, slipping his arm around hers and leading her to one of the doorways, pushed open from aside a mirrored hall. The torch was lit up, and he smirked moderately. "A word of advice. Commit where we walk to memory. There will be no landmarks. Nothing to orient yourself within these halls. There will be dead ends, mis-turns, and all other sorts. If these halls are ever discovered, they reveal a puzzle in and of themselves. Always walk directly from one place to another, keeping the destination in mind. To be distracted would be to lose your place, and thus you could spend a great deal of time wandering. Now... let me see." and--unable to resist the bit of showing off, he'd use an old trick to set the torch aflame, brushing his hand over it and seeming to bring it by sheer conjuration alone, before leading her down the hallways. "And.. ah, do stay close. Sound doesn't travel well in here, I'd hate for you to be lost."

Ursula: "I agree, wholeheartedly." She allowed a wink in his direction as she smile curled more at the edges of her lips as he cupped her hand with his own though a laugh followed as he indulged her the whim of seeing more secrets and rose. Tightening her arm to his, she rose as well, brushing back skirts before trailing along with him. "Advice taken.."She grinned like the cat who had eaten the canary. Why did it feel like they were two young children playing pretend in the gardens? The thought struck her suddenly and without warning, enough that she let out a laugh before taking his hand into her own. "Are you kidding? I'm not letting you go now that you've said that...sounds much like a labyrinth and I've no wish to get lost and wander till my body gives out from lack of food and water!" Though she did grin with a knowing look as the flame seemed to appear out of nowhere"Show off... couldn't resist..."She teased against his ear in a gentle purr, with Jonathan out of the way, at least for tonight, her voice had returned to the gentle hum of a purr, seductive, not that she could help it. At ease in his company, at easy with him. She could be...herself. No masks, perhaps that was where the teasing came from? "Lead on..." and she laughed again, thoroughly enjoying this so far.

Alendral:Probably because the lot of it was so fantastical that it seemed absurd. All the same he would grin wryly. "Well, that's the point. If some twit goes and stumbles on one I don't suddenly want him turning the house against its denizens." the wanton purr, delicate art of the Courtesan brought himself a playful grin, and he'd take her through. "Always." a few winding turns here and there, with only the mild hum, till they came to a hallway that ended in a seamed door. With a smooth motion, he opened it to what seemed to be a kind fo amster bedroom--lavish adornments fitting with the usual theme. The purpose for the hidden passageway, it would seem, was obvious. Once she was lead out, a push back on the door hid it entirely from view--even knowing it was there, it was impossible to find, recessed within the decorations of the wall. "Every place in the house serves a dual purpose. More than just a training hall, should Skye wish for its arts to be ployed in its own home, this place becomes a weapon fashioned against them. Also right fancy, you don't mind me saying." and of course, in a further display of showing off, there was more drinks and the lot waiting for them, naturally, just in case. "Lavish bath not far from here--actually there's an interesting story about that, the tunnel has an access point to ah.. let us say to spice the water with perhaps more exotic herbs, unfortunate ones."

Ursula: As he had told her to do, she memorized the way they moved even through the twist and turns, a left here, a right there and she was engraving it into memory. As the seamless door was pushed open, she gazed into the bedroom with mild amusement. So the bedroom itself was part of the house but somehow was connected to the tunnel. She seemed to get it then. Fascinating how his mind worked. "I'm impressed.."She mused as he closed the door again. "Very impressed. Whatever deity exists...let them help the person that ever tries to find out the workings of your mind Alen.."It was a compliment, not meant to be rude or brash but his mind was much like the tunnels, easy to get lost in. "Interesting story about the bath? Unfortunate ones? Tell me!" She urged as she gripped his arm tighter, not out of fright but an urgent need to know just exactly what he was talking about.

Alendral: "Simple, really. Come here and see." he smirked lightly again and lead her to one of the aforementioned tubs, spacious and opulent like everything else in the place. What was most interesting about it was its place near the wall. The stuff currently had no water in it, of course--as amusing as the idea was to Alen to try and coax her into that, it was a bit much to bear, stepping lightly over the lip of it to crouch down. Like everything else, the wall was decorated in a series of wood-carvings, which hypothetical. Let us say we wish to part a man with some orders we know he carries on his person. We know the man is tired, so we draw him a bath, while an agent slips through the tunnels to a certain point. Behind this wall is just one such, but with a small feature.. and a few points, here.. here, and here, to observe." He took her hand and guided it along to find the few other small gaps. "You wait.. for just the right moment, when his attention is diverted, or even when his eyes are closed in blissful repose, and you.. slip.. just a tiny bit, into the water. There are many ways to drug or poison a man, in various ways of subtlety. This is the hardest to detect, but getting it into his water well, that's a bit of an art."

Ursula: "Is everything here so...refined and...perfect?" The Ebony Hall, so far all that she had seemed look like a palace, each peice of furniture, each decoration perfectly selected for each room. She spoke as she followed him to one of the tubs, sliding to sit upon the edge as she watched him more, watched him speak. With a grin, she slid into the tub, with no water, she had no fear of ruining her riding gown. As he took her hand and ran it over the hidden gaps, her hand formed a perfect little O. Now she understood it. "It seems to me, like that story, oh what do they call it, about the maiden and the stepmother who tries to poison her because a magic mirror says the stepdaughter is the fairest in the land, first she tries a poisoned corset, designed to squeeze the ribs tight and in the breast...barbs to poke her and poision her..."As she spoke her hands moved to her own corset, showing with her fingers were such barbs would be"and then secondly with a poisoned comb and then finally..oh what was it, a poisoned apple.."She turned in the tub, shifting her skirts around. "I'm sure there are many arts and ways to drug or torture a man. Will all my...clients, need such acts?" It seemed as if the girl was worried about harming another person but even as Jonathan was the mastermind and torturor in many cases, she had not been without cause of her own, it was just safely hidden, she was better at masking deeds then Jonathan. "Show me more?" Slowly she guided herself out of the tub, shifting her skirts this way and that to get herself out without tumbling feet over head out, as she was known to do every once in a while.

Alendral: "Which is actually kind of a poor choice for a poison vessel. Most poisons are bitter, she probably would have figured out after one bite, but, well, children's tales." He grinned at her with a wry grin. "Everything here is designed with twin purposes in mind. Its designs have come from the years of idle thought and discussion on the subject from masters of the craft. Every wish and whim of a spy built into one home, every single one with a purpose. I so rarely like to use the word perfect, but in this case." and of course he'd indulge her in her whims and curiousity, standing slowly and offering his arm in playful manner. "By all means! Come, come, there's much to see. " at her inquiry to the nature of his task, to all clients, he suppressed a smile. She hid the concern terribly well, but to Alen it was plain at day, and he'd ease her concerns. "No. Hardly. These are merely possibilites. The truth is, most of those a Spy wish to infilitrate survive their engagements, else we make our courts terribly paranoid. Truth is, in some ways Spying isn't too terribly different from... acting, or your current profession--you merely play to their expectations, provide what they need, only the aim is different; you take the information. I admit.. sometimes the act itself can feel dark, but think of it this way: Your conscience is always your guide. They will confide in you so many things, and you need not tell every detail. Their secrets, their passions, the good or darkness in their hearts. Only what serves to protect what we care for, only those that serve to protect who we care for, all that matters in the end. "As a Noviate, it will be a long time before I ask you to end the life or ply the trade of poison to supplant it. To do so is a delicate art, avoiding capture even more so. To begin with, you will merely observe, play your part as you will and gather the information you need. Later... well, we can always discuss later." he grinned, offering a hand to assist her in keeping balance before slipping out, sure-footed and liquid-movement as ever. If she had tumbled, he frankly would have scarcely seen it. "How about... something a little more physical, eh?" he raised his eyebrows then, a playfully vague statement before leading her off to an open courtyard, a nightscape... at the center of which was several wooden constructs of both dizzying height and frankly intimidating feats, set into three quarters. The first one looked difficult, if not insurmountable... the second looked trying, and had several nets strung between it and several poles, presumeably to catch any wayward noviates. The third--the third looked positively dizzying. A series of small, thin platforms that were smaller than even the smallest person's foot, a dizzying climb with scattered hand-holds, some of which would require great strength and agility to move from part to part, and a long, dizzying jump from a high platform to a lower one--one that seemed impossible to land safely on. Alen grinned while he looked to, watching the woman's expression eagerly.

Ursula: "Well that's just it, a childrens tale could be the best possible plan...though of course I'm not doubting there are other ways. Makes one wonder where the childrens tale began. Think they are sprung from real situations? I've never tasted poison so I wouldn't know it would be bitter.." She grinned as he offered his hand, not shy about accepting help, she took the offered hand, weaving her fingers with his as she hopped out of the tub. Once out though her arm linked with his arm and off again they went. He was like a child in a pastry shop, to many selections and not enough time. Not that she minded. A smile still pulled at her lips as she listened to him talk of what a novice did, or would need to do. "Physical?" A delicate brow inched upward until he was pulling her outside. Her mouth opened in wonderment as she blinked into the night. What the..." Her arm left his as she moved around the different constructions. "Training...A spy must be able to move swiftly and overcome any obstacle...that is what these are for, yes?" Chocolate hues turned in his direction before moving back, fingers plucking at the holes within one wall. "Also for escape...if caught, a spy must..I am guessing, using buildings and objects to aid in the escape?"

Alendral:He grinned. "I feel compelled to point out that, if you observe its construction, notice that it's designed to be modular. Should it be required, the whole thing can be taken down and stored to turn this into the perfect place for outdoor parties or... simply to continue the illusion of this place simply being a rich merchant home." he took a place to observe her then, unusually charged by the site of his student making such leaps, feeling her way around the place. "Precisely thus, and one more feature. The fact is that they are always looking for us--at least if they have anything worth the trouble in the first place. In the crowds, the streets, allies, by windows. They'll seek us out in all these places. Therefore a Spy must be able to lurk in places that no one could imagine. To move admist the world with seemless grace. For who can watch in every direction, at every roof, for the eyes above? In fact, I can tell you that each course was designed from a specific period in my life. Like that first one: My first training ground, set up by my second Mentor. a recreation to every detail. The second.. .is actually an old memory of an infiltration gone bad. I was on the run and so I was forced to take to the rooftops to evade capture. It was a dense area, populated by various buildings and the like. Of course, at the time I had arrows flung my way but that's a might harder to add to a course." He grinned. "And that last one... well, I've only seen a spy complete something like that once... and though I loathe to say it, I do not believe I could complete it myself. It is merely an ideal, what the perfect spy can achieve..."

Ursula:She seemed to be putting them all to memory or at least trying to work them out, as if they were a puzzle. They really were and she was indeed working in her mind, seeing herself manuevering the course but in any event, it was always easier to do these things in the mind then the physical. No doubt she would fall many times but that was the point of practice, if at first you don't succeed. "Arrows..?"She turned slightly to reguard him, her chin tilted down in question, what did he do to have arrows being flung at him? Was it really all for being a spy? Her lips twitched in a grin as she imagined a half naked Alen running because he took the wrong woman to bed. Oh she could find humor in any situation but a thought struck her and she pointed. "No not really difficult to add, look, you can easily fit four or five men on that wall, not with arrows...well yes arrows but at the end, sponges, with paint..this will mark the target when hit but not harmed.." Her arms folded as she leaned against one of the training walls, turning her attention to him with a grin. "This reminds me of that obstacle course, they have in England, oh what do they call it..I only saw it once and never attempted it myself, looked impossible, but nothing is ever really impossible, with enough work.." She grinned as her head tilted. "Tell the truth, you just want to see us courtesans get dirty.."There another tease bur she honestly couldn't help it with him.

Alendral: "Hmmm. Not a bad idea!" well that wasn't what he was expecting. He almost laughed in the simplicity of it, how could he have missed something like that? "I know I chose the right pupil, and now I get proof of it!" flashing his teeth at the woman, he'd slip up beside her again. "You really are quite a marvel lady Darling. And actually I think I did that one. What did you think they used it for anyway?" of course, that actually wasn't quite it, but it was fun to let her wonder if the true reason for its construction. "Admittedly you can't blame me. This place does have the advantage of getting faintly muddy in the rain, I do anticipate quite a site the first few times you lot make your way through it!" as he spoke he eased beside her, crossing arms over his chest and fixing to her expression, and despite the playful banter there was a strange, genuine affection behind it, hard to define but ever-present. "...So.. you've got a glimpse into the future of your life, Ursula, what do you think...?"

Ursula:The grin of triumph pulled at her lips. She had thought of something he hadn't? That would likely be the first and last time. Her head turned as he moved in beside her, chin tilting up to meet his face. "Oh you would of likely figured it out sooner or later without my help.." She rolled her eyes and chuckled. "You did? Hmm, I would of paid good money to see that. I rather think it was more for the peoples entertainment then training..a laugh for when someone was knocked off. I really wish I could remember the devices name.." fingers tapped against her lips in thought before waving, waving off the thought of it all together in frustration at not being able to remember. "ohh quite muddy, see I knew it was all to get us good clean girls all dirty..naughty man.."The banter continued but the true affection while silently there on his face, sparkled still in chocolate eyes as well. Unspoken but always present. She hummed in a sigh at his question, letting silence follow as she turned her gaze around, working through memory of the tunnel, the room, the bath and now this..of all the things he had said to her thus far. "I can only imagine what things will be like, even then, life twists and turns, unexpectedly, what I imagine, could change, still..I feel no regret at my decision of my future life, I can not say it would fit me perfectly, all though truthfully, I don't see any other way to say it, perfect can be to strong a word and yet it seems so fitting here..I may regret not knowing you earlier, but I think, for this life I'm about to embark upon, it was necessary..." Arms folded over her chest as her gaze returned to him. "Does that sound stupid?" She laughed then. "sounds like one of those romantic tales...you know the one, fate brought us together and can never part us.."

Alendral: "No. No... not at all." He smiled, meaningfully again, seemingly pondering the taste of her words a moment before he fixed her with a brutally honest expression, heavy with emotion that was so seldom there beyond the mask. "Everything will change Ursula. and I truly hope and believe that you will find.. whatever it is you've sought in it. I... can not promise it won't be difficult. That there won't be times when you may even come to curse me. But... well.. it is... it's my hope.." his words stopped then , unsure how to phrase it. "... Forget it. Those words aren't for now. When you come to understand I will give them to you, you may take that as a promise if you wish. Sufficed to say, you may not understand how or why, but you've given me hope where I had very little, Ursula. I have been hesitant to say it, for fear of alienating you or feeling that I have placed too much in you too early, but... you accepting this, your willingness.. your... your, God, how do I even say it? The fact that I can look to your eyes and believe you. Well.. it means more to me than you know. and... when this is over. When you have learned all that you can from me... well, I'll have something for you that can more properly explain what you've done for me. Thank you for this, Ursula..."

Ursula: Hugging her arms against her chest, she watched him. Chocolate hues moved left and right over his face, pulling in each word. Soaking it up. It was perhaps difficult for him to find the words, but she understood none the less, if not completely then somewhat. "I know everything will change and honestly, I have not put much store to it. I can not put to much expectation into it for fear of failure..."Her arms uncrossed and she reached out to cup his arm. "You don't have to tell me anything now, but I'll take your promise that you'll tell me later, when I'll better understand it..We may of grown up in different situations Alen, well..different in the respect of the way they happened but not in that we both have had to fight and adapt. I have given you hope, I do not see how, but you...have given me hope too Alen. You've given me reason to live life differently, you've given me the means to.."she let out a laugh and moved her hand to cup his face as he seemed frustrated with not being able to find the words. "You sound as if I will leave you once this is all done and over. I am not going anywhere Alen, teach me everything you know...then we will talk but don't think for one second I'm going anywhere." Her thumb stroked his cheek for a moment before falling back to his arm. "I accepted your offer, whatever happens, even if dark and unnatural in a sense, I won't hate you..I took your offer, from there it is all me and I will gladly accept what comes..Don't thank me Alen, you've done more for me, then I could ever repay you for..but if it pleases you to hear it, your welcome..though I do admit, I only understand so much of what your saying..Don't worry about how much you put on my shoulders, we are one and the same Alen, we've both born much, carried the weight of the world on our shoulders and we've survived, we are survives, adapters..mask makers and wearers..we're a rare sort.."She winked, it was partly in tease but moreso serious then she had ever been.

Alendral: Such an ironic choice of words. There was a fear he could not voice to his noviate yet, of the events that would transpire, because he knew exactly what she might try to do... because he would have done the same. The fact was things were coming full circle, and in his part... well, he remembered what happened to the man in his place then. "Perhaps Ursula... perhaps." No, he wouldn't speak of his fear to the Noviate, not that though she would survive this... honestly, Alen would be surprised if he did. "And you're welcome, Ursula. we are in so many ways cut from the same cloth. " there was another unspoken hope though, that unlike himself, that Ursula may find a way to let her mask slip among others more freely, to share as so few of them shared together. He brought up a hand, cupping her face, trailing along it warmly--different from the touch of a lover or a client, devoid of the means to entice or the flicker of desire and replaced with something perhaps deeper, or purer in intentions. He let it slip then, sliding his hand to his side and pushing himself off the table. "Now, enough silly attempts to put the sense of awe in your old teacher. I think you deserve a little treat. Come, tell me something you'd like and I'll see to it accommodated. I'm sure you've your share of all bits of fancy delights, but having the illusion of the expensive merchant has its perks!"

Ursula: There were no grand illusions that she would be the best of the best, unbreakable, though she could hope silently, enjoy the little plays that went in on her head of beating the gauntlet. Ha that was it! the Gauntlet, though the moment passed for the name, she still grinned in silence. The look in her eyes was clear...We all die some day...She had no grand ideas that she would live forever, whenever was her time..if something happened in this life that removed her from it. Well..acceptance was part of it. It was perhaps why she did not fear the path she was being lead down, the things she would learn. Her hand rose as he cupped her cheek, her fingers pressing lightly into his wrist before dropping down to her waist even as his did. He could hope her masks would slip around others but it was unlikely, trust for her was hard to earn, it was why it was so amazing her trust in him came so easily but his hope could continue, who knew what life had in store right? A laugh left her lips as he spoke of awing and treats. "What if I like the aweing part"She teased in return, a delicate brow arched, in silent thought of what if anything she could ask for. "There is no need for treats, I did nothing to deserve it and I don't think you should be spoiling me for nothing done. Save those for when your truly pleased with me." A lash dipped, sending a wink in his direction as the grin pulled at her lips again. "I'm less spoiled with fancy delights then you think. Men are no longer big on flashy gifts and sweet delights to woo a courtesan, when your paying for the merchandise all ready, why pay more, you're all ready in.."

Alendral:"Plenty of time for more of that." he quipped. "But there is! You've provided me with a way to improve my course when I could think of no others and you've discerned the meaning with no formal training at all! How could I not be pleased!?" he asked , the trace of laugh at the end of his words as he urged her along, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the idea that the men felt no obligation to inspire affection. "Bah, fools each and every one of them! They know not what they miss, trying to win the hearts and minds of the women they seek. They should cherish your cleverness, your wit and your beauty, and remind you of it at every opportune! Now come on, come come. I may not be a client in the strictest sense of the word but that does not mean that I can not fill the void left by fool men who know not how lucky they actually are! " he shook his head lightly. "There must be at least some old favorite I'm sure the cooks could scare up for you." In truth there was an actual strange signfigance to this . It was his first memory of Vittergaust. The old man has sussed out a favorite dish of his, and had cracked the cold, calculating exterior the man carried... by surprising him with it. Not the same, but he felt it necessary to establish that bond, to give her a 'home' of sorts. A strange urge, but a necessary one.

Ursula: A humph passed her lips as she rolled her eyes. There he went again with the compliments and there she went again, able to push them to the weigh side, honestly she tried to believe but it was hard to push the bad things to the side and accept the good right on the getgo, it was going to take a lot more for her to start believing them all together. "You would of thought of it eventually had I not..."Though she allowed a grin to pull at her lips once more. "However, for my cleverness, I'm willing to believe you..but my beauty? Come now, I honestly began to think you thought my quite plain, never trying to charm me into bed.."again she was teasing. "I've no time for fools though...trying to charm me...oh no, I can play that it is all well and good, giggle and blush at their gifts and compliments, but I would rather it be like I have now, with you and Marke, real and true..but since you will not be dissuaded, I love peaches and cream.."Her chin dipped, there she had told him her favorite dish, or dessert. "Speaking of awing Sir, that's exactly what YOU'RE doing.."A pink tongue snaked out of her mouth in his direction before she busted up in a new sense of laughter.


Alendral: "We'll get rid of that lack of confidence soon enough. " He flashed her his teeth as he threaded his arm around hers and lead her back to the dining hall, cokeing a brow playfully. "I'd be happy to try my luck if you'd prefer, but I merely thought that expending my energies simply to get you into my bed would be a disservice." he chuckled again, passing by a servant and repeating her request, all smiles and pleasant expression. "Peaches and cream it is! Make that a second, I don't think I've had such a thing myself. " he chuckled lightly again. "Besides. You strike me as the kind of dangerous woman to sleep with, the kind that men fall hard for, and what good would it do for a mere spy to fall for a woman that happens to be employed by a fellow Spy, one that isn't under your direct command? Lord, Shaden would have a field day." he chuckled again, picking out a small table for the two of them, and deciding to change tact. "While we have a moment, I've been meaning to ask. My subordinate tells me you've done a little work on the stage at well! how come you never told me such a thing!? You really must tell me about that."

[Ursula Darling]

Ursula: "Oh I rather think it will be later then sooner, if you keep dishing out compliments, not that I don't believe you.."She rolled her eyes again but let out a laugh as her arm threaded through his. "Actually I rather like that I've never taken you to my bed, leaves you more to imagine about me hmm?" Was that a tease, it sure sounded like it. "Actually I think I would rather terrify you in the bedroom..." Her teeth flashed as her grin widdened. "As far as I know, none have fallen for me because of my bed habits, I highly doubt a man can fall in love that way, its more lust and even then some men have only two ways of thinking, with his brain or member and when the member is hard, the other does not work." She spoke with no shame but then why should she? Even as the servant who took the order gave her a quizzical stare, she grinned and moved with him to a table. The subject changed, she merely stared at him for a moment, the look clear, you checked out my past? Though she was not as mad as she probably could of been, or maybe should of been. Sliding into the chair, she gracefully latched an ankle behind the other and leaned casually back within the chair, less like a well bred lady she was supposed to act as a courtesan. "Well you never asked, I actually..thought you knew..why else do you think I wear masks so well?" She fingered the armrests of the chair as she spoke, nervous of speaking of the past? Perhaps a little. "Actually, I was a dancer long before I acted on the stage...dancing was the first thing I learned, most plays have some symbol of dance in it, or the dancers would perform before the show, to entertain the audience before the show and then latter, when one of the leads became ill, I got my foot in the door so to speak and from then on, was mostly the lead in plays, although I sang on the side to, again before the shows, or after as added entertainment. Really that's all there is to it, there isn't much to tell.."

Alendral: "Hmm, you might have a point, but time in your company, perhaps I merely am letting imagination run wild." Clearly the talk didn't make him uncomfortable. on the contrary, he was clearly amused by her assessment, and rather forced to agree with it, self-incriminating though it may be. When the subject shifted to the more serious topic though, he only passed her a meaningful look. Was she honestly surprised by it? Of course he looked into her past, it was a given. He was placing a lot of trust in her and that meant making sure he was not betrayed for it. Gristly, yes, but part of the business. He only hoped that she would understand what would happen if he found anything to doubt--clearly, he did not, or else they would not be here. He leaned forward nearily dreamily and smiled. "Must have been a sight, I'd say. I mean, they gave you an opportunity the moment it presented. Still, it must have been... well.." he laughed again and shook his head, replying honestly. "You'll have to excuse me. I always like to hear about these kind of things. It's strange to say, but I've little experience outside the world I've inhabited for so long, really, my work in the Illusionist is all I've ever been save a spy. It's all... well, interesting, I suppose. " he shrugged lightly again. "But I can imagine you on stage. Hell, if I met you earlier in life I'd ask you to be an assistant, not a bloody spy. " he waved his hand a little bit again. Right on cue, the servant appeared, offering them both the delectable little treat and moving soundlessly away. "Ah! Here we are. " the wine he had left earlier was still waiting for the two, and would serve as an able glass. "God.. hah, you would have made a great assistant."

Ursula: No, she was not surprised, she was more amused then anything else. Especially to see such a report for herself. Oh what had this person said about her? Did she see them at one time and merely dismiss them? These were the things running through her mind. A glow seemed to appear on her face as she spoke of dancing, of singing, of the stage. Honestly it was an art she had loved, despite what Jonathan had turned it into, all a game. "I adored it, it seemed to fit, as much as this life I'm embarking on does." Her head turned to nod a thanks to the servant as the bowls of peaches and cream were set before either of them. "Oh I don't know, I wouldn't of wanted you to see me back then, might of fallen head over heels in love with me...would of ruined the whole of the future.." She leaned forward in the chair with a grin as a spoon ladeled some of the cream over the peaches. "I'm not sure I would..I was to in love with the stage back then to leave it..and besides, I think a spy rather suits me more then a magicians assistant..I think you merely want me in those skimpy outfits they wear.."Chocolate eyes seemed alive with unshed laughter. "You really liked being a magician didn't you? Why did you stop?" A piece of peach and cream was then popped into her mouth as she waited for an answer.

Alendral: "Haven't I already? I seem to recall you being in various states of undress during our meetings, all most delightful, might I add." he quipped, leaning forward and mimicing her movements, only to take a small bite, quite pleased with the texture and sweetness. "Mmm!" so it came to the business of Magician's work, and why he gave up, and he suddenly gave an expression that spoke to the worn, tired quality he felt. "My past caught up with me. The Great Alendral was just one of my covers some time ago, I had to learn a few parlor tricks. God, when my mentor heard of it he thought I was daft. But I loved it. Don't ask me why, I guess he never could get rid of the old showman in me. But it was always a game. a means to an end. " He hesitated than. "... Back then I was loyal to the Kingdom of England. They placed me under the command of King William Maubery. I had actually come here once before, though never to Skye, to search for some.. relic, some heirloom. As it turned out..." the expression became vaguely bitter. "The old bastard didn't want anyone else known about it. " He let out a theatrical sigh and dug his spoon into the dish again, pushing it around idly. "So one day I was traitor to the crown, and Ale..." he stopped dead there. Despite himself, the name was sacred. He never wanted it uttered from its pupils lips, for what it represented. "The man became Alendral the great and it stuck. I actually was happy then. At least, a sort of happy. It was the meaningless kind. The kind where you only care about what beauty shares your bed or how much of a mark you can make on passerbys. But... they always forget you in time, and you spend more nights alone than you do in fine company." he shrugged again as he leaned back, letting his mind wander to it. "In the end, I was running away from something... a good deal of it, but it caught up. So... Alendral the Great has to disappear for a time, and I... have to take up my old work. Honestly...." he let his gaze flicker from the distance to her. "I hoped when this was over I could go back to it... I guess that won't happen now though. Spymaster Alendral Sorschal, for now and forever. Hmm." he shrugged then, and, feeling suddenly quieted, moved to start picking at the dish again, trying to put it aside for now. Things could be worse, or so he mused.

Ursula: Her lips pulled into a grin, both for the comment and how he liked the dish. Honestly it was her favorite, she never grew tired of it, then again she didn't have it that often. She took another bite then pushed the dish away to better listen as she leaned back within the chair. A delicate brow rose in question, certain he wasn't about to say Alendral but another name, she wasn't going to press though the Lord, ha, even that would get a snort from her, fictional person this lord was, she could press but she wouldn't, even she sensed it was not a subject he would talk about nor one he would want her to know about. The relic though...this heirloom, she thought perhaps that, she understood, did he mean the brooch? The one she had heard about falling out of some instruments in Aberdeen? The incident that started the whole war...It weighed on her mind even as she listened. "I have no grand illusions aboutt his life, Alen...but think of all the good your doing, protecting the people you care about, the people you love.." Her arms folded over her chest, quite unladylike as she leaned back within the chairs embrace. "I am not one to fault you for what happiness you had back then, nor receiving a bed companion, a courtesan has no right to judge that, but since I've always told you the truth, I'll say it here, I like this Alen better...You may of always been a spy, perhaps with a cover of a magician once, but you've changed Alen, at least thats my assesment of it, I don't...can't see this Alen before me in the past you described, oh being a spy and in a sense assasin doesn't seem noble, but the cause of it is...loyalty in any sense, in any situation, is noble, despite the situation." She leaned forward, uncrossing her arms and did perhaps the most unladylike thing ever, Shaden would of scolded her had she seen, she was sure, she rested her elbows against the table, sliding forward still, her fingers touched at his wrist. "I will always respect you Alen, no matter what happens, whatever you find out about me, or I you..You want to dream of going back to being a Magician, hold on to that dream, we've no way to know whats to happen and if that life...was happiness for you, well don't kill that dream...hold onto it."

Alendral: He nodded, quietly again and reached up to squeeze the top of her hand. "Now there you go, mucking up the whole relationship between mentor and student. I'm the one who's supposed to say things like that to you, you know." he chuckled playfully again. "But thank you. Ursula. times like these it can be hard to see the worth in these situations. You'll learn that soon enough. It is.. comforting, to hear that from someone I trust." he smiled again, comfortably again. "Going to be an interesting couple of weeks, watching you grow, I should suspect." he smiled again. "...You're right, we don't, and a part of me will always cling to it. But for now, the dream will have to remain as such. Much as the concept of getting you in a skimpy outfit shall indeed enchant my dreams for some time." he grinned moderately again and leaned back, silently contemplating a chance to draw more from her. There were may questions he had of course, but only that which she wanted to give. He knew why she came here, naturally, that was a result of Jonathan having little else. In thinking of others, however, the realization of the other thing he needed to tell her hit. He spoke with a forced, trying to keep it conversational. "Along that line, I shall be departing for a short while shortly with Lady St. Laurence. A... ah, matter we must attend to. In the interest of keeping you ready, I thought I might see you tending to something while I'm gone, if you don't mind."

Ursula: "Ah well, can't always be the mentor Alen. Sometimes the mentor needs to be the student." It was a half hearted tease furthered by a wink and a grin as her fingers curled with his own, squeezing in a manner of comfort before releasing all together. "Hmmm now, to know I will be moderately in your dreams, I must say I am flattered.." Her lips pulled into a deeper grin as she leaned back with the chair, idly fingers moving along the table, tracing nonsensical images within the wood. If Alen only knew, all he had to do was ask and she would give him any information he wanted. It was a strange fascination to let someone in, other then Jonathan, to let someone know that part of her hidden away for...well the whole of her life. Perhaps also it would make him understand she was not as glamorous as he pictured her to be, just a blank slate with a lot of attachable masks, or at least that was the way she saw herself. "Oh?" A delicate brow rose in silent question as to what business he had to attend but he was, in this point and time the mentor and she had no right to question it and think she was going to get a straight answer. Even she knew at times, the less she knew the better. The less she could be a target. "You've only need to say and I will do as you ask.."

Alendral:"Good." He said. it wasn't that he didn't trust Nairne--far from it, after seeing her work he admitted he trusted her a great deal more than before, but he needed a second pair of eyes, in case. "It's about your book-keeper. Nathan. Someone tried to kill him earlier today. Him and the High Scholar he was working with. They're both safe... but the fact crossects with some of my earlier suspicions." he hesitated briefly before broaching the subject. "I believe this Renquest is involved in something worse than he realizes. He may be..." he wasn't sure what he was, to be honest. "He could be a threat. I believe someone is benefiting from the information he is gathering. I've already had Nairne take that damned book he runs about with, and it marks a lot of the sort of information I'd use, in his position. Because of this, he has to be kept close. The boy's been moved to the castle till we sort this mess out, but I need you watching for anything out of the ordinary. I've sent feelers to find out the nature of this employer... but..." his eyes narrowed. it was for this reason he was suspicious. "I've come up short. Whoever laid the trail, he's a dangerous lot." he waited to gauge her reaction before continuing.

Ursula: Her fingers laced together and pressed against her stomach as she leaned her head back on the chair, rolling it to watch him and wait and listen. Clearly she was shocked Nathan's name come up and moreso that the man and the high scholar were attacked? Nathan be a threat...that mousy little thing? Lips pressed tightly together in thought. Still, it kind of made sense, if the man was a threat, was in league with some dangerous people then he would know as Ursula did, how to wear masks well. A tongue snaked out to wet her lips, still she was listening while working the information around in her mind. "All right, so you have Nathan's book...and sent feelers out, what do you need me to do?" Chocolate eyes found his, questions posed and waiting for the rest of the information.

Alendral: "Fairly simple. The boy is afraid of Nairne. Or, rather intimidated. Sufficed to say he isn't all that used to female attention so that's irrelevant. " he waved his hand. "But, from what I understand, the boy is less threatened by you. Continue to play in that role for now. Show some concern, or something. But in doing so gauge him a little. If he's consciously involved in this, then he'll be dealt with.. but there's always a chance the boy has no knowledge of what he's dealing with. I need to know which it is before I move on him... " he narrowed his eyes slightly again. "If you can find a way to press the issue, do it. But I ask you, don't pressure him into thinking that something is amiss. We have to be delicate about how we handle it. If it he is an agent, than asking directly about it will arouse suspicion. If we assume him innocent, then the boy will clam up just to keep himself out of trouble, and either way we don't get what we need. " again, he'd watch and gauge how she felt about such a thing. It was a far cry from 'seduce his brains out' but the work was seldom so cut and dry as all that, he'd learned.

Ursula: Ursula could not help it, she let out a snort of a laugh. Of course Nathan was afraid of Nairne, the woman was insufferable and people called her a whore! Lazily she tapped her foot, an action just to give her body some movement as she processed the new information. She was more inclined to believe Nathan an innocent then an agent. She stayed silent, mulling the situation in her head, working out how she was going to approach him, working through her head the different ways things could go, his answers, the way she could work things if she didn't get the answer she needed, or he became suspicious. " She highly doubted trying to charm him would work, if his experience with women was so less, he would clam up if she tried playing that card, no that was out the door but she would make this work, she wasn't all about using her body to get information she needed. "All right, I will see what I can find out..truth of the matter is, he is too...mousy and your right in that his experience with women is less, he all ready told me of Nairne, he did seem less inclined to tighten up in front of me when I first met him. He could be wearing a mask, quite well if that is the case but honestly, I'm inclined to lean towards him being an innocent in this, without knowledge of what he is being used for but I will do as you ask..and unlike Nairne, I won't need to use my body to get it, besides he would tighten up tighter then a clam with a pearl if I tried that way."

Alendral: He chuckled. He actually had to give Nairne a fair bit more credit than that. he still wasn't sure how she had managed to drug him, but he was guessing it wasn't the way he expected her to. but sometimes that's how spies worked. Nairne made him feel defensive, frightened--another provided the respite. Unable to contain himself, he snorted once. "Oh I'm quite sure that the only experience with women he does have is the ones he's read about. but do as you see fit. I only want to know of this Employer. However you get the information is fine by me, just as long as he doesn't go running screaming from Skye thereafter." he smirked "And I'm inclined to think he's an innocent too, for now, if only because that act is absurdly good if it is one, but you can never be too careful. And.. with that, I extend the same caution Ursula. Be careful. Don't do anything that would compromise your safety. If you get the merest hint that he is playing you, back off and let me handle it."

Ursula: Oh hell, she gave Nairne credit, the woman was...well...good but vindictive at the slightest reason. She had caught rumor that Nairne had wanted to poison her with a rash only for stealing Alen as a client when it hadn't been the case in the slightest, at least not how the woman had perceived it. That gave Ursula enough reason to bash the woman when the occasion arose. They had never really been in a room more then five minutes at a time with each other but Nairne saw Ursula as competition and Ursula saw Nairne as a nuisance, point blank, the two probably would never get along. "then I'm not quite sure I want to know what books he is reading"She quipped with a grin before things went back to serious and she gave a nod of her head. "I'll not promise you can rely on me but I will do my best and any hint of playing me, I will back off and let you know. If he goes running from Skye screaming, it won't be by me..I'll die of embarrassment if that's the case as I've never had that reaction from a man before, but again, I don't think seduction is the route to go here. I will figure it out, so don't worry.."

Alendral: "Oh lord I agree." he had to laugh at the idea. "Woudln't know what to do with a woman even if they were in his lap. Literally, I think. " He smirked again and waved his hand. "But I think more of you then that. You ran the business without a hitch in Shaden's abscence, and you've worn many a mask besides that of the delicate Courtesan. I have confidence. Now, hurry up and finish your dish, will you? I think we've had enough serious talk and it hardly seems fair to ask you to enjoy yourself then bog you down in all this. " He laughed moderately again and poured a glass of wine at the thought. Enough meaning and tearing of his heart, it was time to let the woman enjoy herself like he meant to. One of the many small things he could do for this, his future pupil.

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

On the matter at Potree, all that was to show for the work of retrieving the family of Chantal May Rose was to bring back the wrecked, mangled corposes of a woman, child, and infant where a sister and her children once were. Wires have crossed, and in walking the lines, Alendral has discovered the involvement of another Gottschalkian by the name of Krause. More focused in anger, prowess, and obsession that Kryptmann, Krause's aim isto become his master so thoroughly as to wear the name of Gottschalk himself. Danae Galanos has been recruited to assist them, and arrived in Potree earlier than Alendral had intended, but in doing so began to witness for herself the extent to which the spiral plunges. Dare she to embark on this path, what part of her will she lose forever? As a testatment of his work, Krause released the captured Michael Vincere, a former Avarian legionaire, St. Laurence's counterpart in all things that were militant, but more importantly, he loved her. He is now recovering from a crippled mind, a thing that any who has been in the hands of the former master empathize with and feel guilty for. As the other noviates make ready to gather and pledge their oaths to this and other tasks, there is a lull between days. Oh, but what shows we put on! What faces we were for ourselves and each other that speak nothing of horror. But the reality we can not escape. This is a game. It always has a winner.

Chess

Claramae:"Leave not one another's sight" Claramae was certain to obey the letter of the law while at the same time slipping in subtexts for moments of solitary divine. The Ranger and she, were one in the same, in that eyes were not apart of the equation of sight. Senses played a roll, keen and swift. Even now they were alert in her rooms at the Order. The bodies of the victims were being preserved long enough to summon Chantal Rose to claim them. "Yes let us send them to the Infirmary and Healer's College, and allow her claim them there, for that is the very nature of discretion." she'd said in elegant, poignant, undetected sarcasm to the attendant who asked where the "burdens" ought be put. Unlike dead bodies, those of the heart or mind can not simply be put on a table behind a shut door. But she could forget in simple tasks: the brushing of hair, for example. Unveiled, unpinned, and unfettered by moisture, dust, or blood. (d)

Alendral: It would be a long time before Alen would appear before the Lady St. Laurence. his mind was a tempest of emotions, the strain. The Ranger following him, endangering her life, endangering all of them. The return of a man thought dead, the knowledge of what it did to the mind of the woman he cared so deeply for. When he finally mustered the courage.. he knew not what he would say. This was beyond even his abilities. The door open and shut, a rare glimpse of Clara as he remembered her, some errant memory from years ago, hair down. "...Lady St. Laurence." he said, a simple greeting laced with heavy emotion, stepping to stop behind her but hesitating to drop contact on the woman. He wanted to ask of her trials, of the weight on her mind, but could not bring himself to. Why tear the woman's heart out again. "...I've searched. No sign of Kryptmann..or anyone else. I've only heard a few stories of the Lord Vincere stumbling into town, wide eyed and terrified. Nobody saw anyone bring him in. I'm sorry."



Claramae: "We ought not expect that they would have, as it was staged for our..no, let us be plain of it, my benefit. It did precisely what it was supposed to do, deliver me out to deliver you up. It's a game." He cast a shadow over the figure seated on a bolstered stool, sharing a reflection in the polished surface of the mirror. Liquid, fluid strokes of the brush matched the pitch of voice. Her hair had grown over the years from beyond her shoulders to the center of her back. Other things, like the length of her neck or the roundness of each shoulder hadn't. "A very twisted game. I would not have deduced, though, the addition of the Ranger at first, but she is here now. For better or worse. Devoted. It is honorable, and at once I feel...sorry..for her." Putting the brush down, she said. "She doesn't understand how far she will never be able to go back. Come, there is more unsaid, Alexander. It hangs around you, like the air before a storm." (d)

Alendral: "As have I. I have warned her, again and again of the price that will be paid for her involvement. " he frowned, stopping short of wishing that she would take what happened to Michael as a sign of things to come. Impulislvey, he put a hand on the woman's shoulder, forcing the words past his throat with a great deal of effort. "Clara..." the use of his name stung less with each passing of her lips. He was growing accustomed to it, despite himself. "I can not begin to imagine the weight of what hangs 'round you. This past few days. I... feared for you. Even now. I won't ask if you can hold the course... I know you better than that. but..." he hesitated than, not sure what the meaning of the word entailed, not sure of his own feelings on the subject, as the very word evoked emotions he scarcely understood. "...I am still here, Claramae. "

Claramae "I told her the nature of what we are to face, but she is not detered, I have even mention we survived it, barely, and she is not detered. Such is the lot of women with stubborn resolves. Until we issue ourselves the when, there is no yield." Why stop short when it was the truth? Even as Michael's mind was lucid, the fractures in his confidence, his subconcious, and how he saw the world would be marred forever. Did not the sight of a warrior she'd served with crying like a child at a woman's feet make her think of what would become of a woman in the hands of a villian like that? Claramae considered that - relieving the memories in watching Michael's torment, but said nothing on it save. "As am I, Alexandeer." Not Alendral, not the stage name. No theatrics. "You needn't ask for what you know shall be the place. The Order and all Her works are amidst my due North now. Remember? That, and we shall be as glorified as to see ourselves portrayed on Church walls akin to a great bible story in our own private chapels, with statues, or I shall be beside you when we perish." It was an odd place to insert a smile, but the flicker of one appeared on her face, reflected in the mirror that he saw. She did not turn around, not yet, though she did let he rhand go to the one on his shoulder, touching the top of it. "There is strain, but such as it is, such as it must be." (d)


Alendral: He nodded only once, his hand hovering briefly at hers before squeezing reassuringly, the ghost of a smile on his lips whilst his head tilted, playfully glancing at the window before overlooking Claramae in an affectionate manner. "So long since I've seen you with your hair in anything but the most proper bundles. To do any less would be to much less than Claramae, but the world mourns that such a pretty girl would go to such lengths to obscure it. " Was Alexander actually flirting with her? Ghost of an old past indeed. Perhaps even inappropiate under the circumstance, but to do so was to embrace the old Alexander, long before their lives strange lives had unraveled wholly. Perhaps it may provide an anchor in a tumultous sea "I have seen many a woman who have dismissed such old traditions, Clara.. but few would be as enchanting in it as you." he shook his head again and closed his eyes again, his heart growing heavy again. "... If he's involved, you and I both know how this will proceed. All our fears He nodded only once, his hand hovering briefly at hers before squeezing reassuringly, the ghost of a smile on his lips whilst his head tilted, playfully glancing at the window before overlooking Claramae in an affectionate manner. "So long since I've seen you with your hair in anything but the most proper bundles. To do any less would be to much less than Claramae, but the world mourns that such a pretty girl would go to such lengths to obscure it. " Was Alexander actually flirting with her? Ghost of an old past indeed. Perhaps even inappropiate under the circumstance, but to do so was to embrace the old Alexander, long before their lives strange lives had unraveled wholly. Perhaps it may provide an anchor in a tumultous sea "I have seen many a woman who have dismissed such old traditions, Clara.. but few would be as enchanting in it as you." he shook his head again and closed his eyes again, his heart growing heavy again. "... If he's involved, you and I both know how this will proceed. All our fears are made manifest " he sighed, drew in a breath. "...I lament that this must happen so soon after I am brought to you again, that we may not enjoy each other's company in peace. But I will see it end with you, Claramae. one way or another."

Claramae: If this room were not one in the Order suites that made her apartment, it would be the country estate just outside of London where in the absence of her father, she was the soul heir and master. It would be where they found respite from all their capers, a place to think in a swirl of drowning noise. He made remark of her hair, the mirror showing his smile. Wry grin was cast as the ghost of the maiden came out to play. "I am no longer a girl, Alexander. That was some many years ago, and even unwed, a Lady ought not be disregarding of glass nor custom, even if some she has disregarded out of necessity." A woman of her age, albeit unwed, should have her hair arranged if uncovered, and fashionably no matter what. To see it unfettered by anything must have been to see how indifferent her face was to time, much like his, leaving them frozen in place even as time made onward. Growing tired of talking to him in reflection she turned around. Leading him to the small seat beside her stool, often taken by the lady's maid when aiding her mistress in preperations of self, it was his now to be at her side. "We will face them, this is all that matters now. It will be finished and this is all that matters now. Remember that. Our fears, whatever they maybe, pail in comparison to the necessity of prevention." Cool, clear logic in a softer intonation than usual, but this was not a point of formality. It was one survivor to another. She was learning to make sense of it, suppress, and move forward. She couldn't allow herself to become unraveled, and in that Krause had he made either grand error or had hoped that his playmates would come out to fascinate him. (d)

Alendral: "Ah yes, how could we forget. oh how Vitterguast lamented that I was only the proper gentlemen when it suited me. Then again, what man truly is?" he smiled softly again and moved to sit before her, hands in his lap, meeting her gaze and nodding, however uneasily, at the newfound source of strength that he found. Lord, he didn'tknow how the woman was so capable. To bear the weight of what she did and still find the strength, and he found himself amazed by the old master once again. "Of course Claramae, you are right. And I can think of no one else I would wish more for an ally on this. Thank you..." he smiled mildly again and found himself feeling strangely awkward--a shadow of the old Noviate he remembered a long time ago. "... Claramae. I meant to tell you. I... know.. about what happened in Avaria. Eirian told me. I know that what you face there... and with that..." he sighed, closing his eyes. "I offer you a place. At my side. Permenently. A spy for the Court of Skye. To be taken, all yours for the taking. Should... should Michael recover, I will offer him a place as well."

Claramae: " He was a man for whom place was essential. That place served him very well, given how it was not until later in life he revealed to us as why." Vittergaust was a Jew, which was a hard thing to be in that time, and this. His place secured him a legacy, that legacy a distraction. That distraction, hiding it from most forever which was what he wanted. Her old noviate listened with wide, attentive ears at the short lesson given before bidding her thanks on her presence. "We shall make peace with it all 'pon the present. You know, then, so there is no sense in not conveying to you my thanks at your meeting of my ship in the autumn. Were it not for the old alliance and the sanctuary to be found in old acquaintance, surely there would have been a terrible consequence. It was kill, be killed, or be among the next to be so within the service of the Steward. Ah me. We shall never call that isle home, nor shall Honheldagus ever be fair once more, nor Avaria. It became a rabble afraid of rabble, in the end." She considered what he was offering, "I accept." with no secondary thought, though of Michael, "After all he has seen here, and what Avaria had shown us both, he may have it none, or very little, but I shall tell him this all the same." (d)

Alendral:There was a pause. "Turn around again." struck by the odd urge. When she followed his instruction, he'd hesitate, than, in a strange motion, pick up the brush and began to run it in slow measure through the fine hair, working by memory, the old instruction the woman he gave him fresh in his mind. The last phrase had cowed him into silence. He found a paralell and found discomfort in the parallel. Discomfort in... well many things. As always, emotions became mixed and troubled in the presence of the woman. grinning wryly after a time, he would say. "I used to do this a long time ago, for some of my asssitants. Melted them in my hands, as it were. Strange that I'd some strange measure of comfort in the act itself, after this time." he smiled nostalgically, however briefly, and caught himself, realizing what he said. "...Strange. When I began all I could think of was when this was over, when I could finally return to my place as an Illusionist, to leave the world of masks once and for all.. now? " he replied, uneasily. "Now I seek to secure my legacy and to see my friend at my side, as if I will be this thing forever... Clarame, have you ever thought of an end to this...?"


Claramae: "Turn around?" Statement turned to question. What did he mean to do? The woman allowed herself to be situated at her own vanity only to discover the evening ministration of hair brushing was to be done by Alendral, and not herself nor Bromhield. In earnest, Clarame's eyebrow quirked, the only evident sign of what on earth.. As the brush went through once, twice, and thrice the rhythmic lull of giving chestnut locks luster provided her a comfort just as it did him. "How many of your assistants became your sheet companions?" she smirked, giving a slight tilt of her head in thought. To end. What was that? By now she had made a suitable amount on which to retire, coupled with the wage given by the English King for an English heritage that financed her on the other side. Was it not time to secure a proper home, perhaps...an occupation based upon the skills acquired and sound wit? A scholar, perhaps, an alchemist working in association with the phsycian had often passed her mind, for science was the love of her life followed only by numbers, third only to Irish poems. But to see a life of doing the day to day for the common was not to see Claramae. "Even if I retired, Sorschal, would I still not do such a thing as to be the public face of a private place? If not one of knowledge, or one of science, a posistion where I might dally in both in a advising. I had settled into such a thing, with one of the princes of Germany, a good contendter for the title of King. I had made myself a good home for a few years when the King of Avaria came to call, with Michael seeking me out on his behalf." (D)

Alendral:There was a pause. "Turn around again." struck by the odd urge. When she followed his instruction, he'd hesitate, than, in a strange motion, pick up the brush and began to run it in slow measure through the fine hair, working by memory, the old instruction the woman he gave him fresh in his mind. The last phrase had cowed him into silence. He found a paralell and found discomfort in the parallel. Discomfort in... well many things. As always, emotions became mixed and troubled in the presence of the woman. grinning wryly after a time, he would say. "I used to do this a long time ago, for some of my asssitants. Melted them in my hands, as it were. Strange that I'd some strange measure of comfort in the act itself, after this time." he smiled nostalgically, however briefly, and caught himself, realizing what he said. "...Strange. When I began all I could think of was when this was over, when I could finally return to my place as an Illusionist, to leave the world of masks once and for all.. now? " he replied, uneasily. "Now I seek to secure my legacy and to see my friend at my side, as if I will be this thing forever... Clarame, have you ever thought of an end to this...?"

Claramae: "Turn around?" Statement turned to question. What did he mean to do? The woman allowed herself to be situated at her own vanity only to discover the evening ministration of hair brushing was to be done by Alendral, and not herself nor Bromhield. In earnest, Clarame's eyebrow quirked, the only evident sign of what on earth.. As the brush went through once, twice, and thrice the rhythmic lull of giving chestnut locks luster provided her a comfort just as it did him. "How many of your assistants became your sheet companions?" she smirked, giving a slight tilt of her head in thought. To end. What was that? By now she had made a suitable amount on which to retire, coupled with the wage given by the English King for an English heritage that financed her on the other side. Was it not time to secure a proper home, perhaps...an occupation based upon the skills acquired and sound wit? A scholar, perhaps, an alchemist working in association with the phsycian had often passed her mind, for science was the love of her life followed only by numbers, third only to Irish poems. But to see a life of doing the day to day for the common was not to see Claramae. "Even if I retired, Sorschal, would I still not do such a thing as to be the public face of a private place? If not one of knowledge, or one of science, a posistion where I might dally in both in a advising. I had settled into such a thing, with one of the princes of Germany, a good contendter for the title of King. I had made myself a good home for a few years when the King of Avaria came to call, with Michael seeking me out on his behalf." (D)

Alendral: "I do believe there's some adage about a gentlemen and telling. on that." he grinned ear to ear at the speculation on behalf of them. "But fear not, for I entertain no thoughts of bringing you to my bed. Well, entertain no thouhgts on acting on it." even more the shadow of old Alexander. He'd have to catch himself before falling too far. shaking his head. ".. I often wonder you know. If I was running for Maubery or merely my legacy. Hmph. course I see you and the first thing I assume is you mean to finish old business, so maybe I was merely looking for the right reason to resume. " he spoke wistfully whilst he worked in slow, broad strokes, smoothing and straightening the fine hair of the woman, propping a hand beneath the strands at about shoulder length, drawing silent and pensive in the face of it.

Claramae:"The Maubrey business was terrible, but to think that seemed the only cause for a great while. It was your invitation towards the Game again, to end it is a thought all hold however in this trade. What it would be like if one did not have to look o'er their shoulders, or assume that all the world was but waiting for one moment of unsuspecting, brief repose to kill you...." On the thought to finish business she simply shook her head, and laughed! "My darling Alexander, as I said 'pon last midsummer, if I had come to do as you assumed at first, it would have been done expediently and not before the eyes of the public, but it was never the case. What on earth could make me wish to do that to you? Merry, I might be strange, but I do not waver in my loyalty." She was serious on the last, looking to him as if to say some things lasted forever. The subject of bed-fellow potential was left untouched for but, "One ought not say such things! Alexnder, for pity's sake. My ears." Which was an earnest comment. her sense of manners were offended, ,but still, even she was not without a small sense of humor. "Though to that subject might be offered that if such as true Lady's went to thy bed you'd seek nothing else." Touche! (d)

Alendral: "If you really must know, Lady Claramae. I believed I did nothing to earn it then. " he replied truthfully, grinning cheshire against the delicate sensitives upset by his teasings of the woman before him. "An excellent point, my dear. You always were capable of seeing to the truth of the matter." he shook his head and, having finished with the silken strands, carefully moved to place the brush back down upon her table. "There we go. Perfect in placement, not a single thread out of place, just like the woman it belongs to, heaven forbid otherwise, right? " he grinned. "The slightest bit of improperiety? Perish the thought. " he hadn't thought of it--that, in the end, it was only the game's way of ending him again, and was struck by another strange thought. "Lord. We haven't played in ages, have we? I mean... Chess, I should say. The game, far removed from the game we have been seeing entirely too much of. I seem to recall needing to avenge my own honor for a previous game some time." More forced levity. It was there way. for all the suffering between the two, they needed a place to wear their masks in comfort as much to remove within each other. it was his way, to push in pull at only th right time.

Claramae: "No, only a sound thwap beside your head for such thoughts, both of the midsummer and of your..private chamber matters." He mentioned she saw to the heart of the matter to which for now was left alone. Ah ha! What did that mean? Who knew, but the invitation to play chess was not one that Claramae would pass up because chess was a proper, and favorite past-time. "I still have my varying chess set." Indian. Persian. Greek. English .French. Italian. German. She collected a chess set in each favored area."You might linger awhile, I can have Bromheilde fetch a little wine, there is no harm in indulging it without water a little." Rarely, very rarely was there any spirits that passed her mouth at all. The woman was practically casting it all to the wind. Hair down. Chess. A little wine. When he'd least expect it the further turn at rebellion came in dry jokes, "Then you have been looking for a long time, have you not?" Implying that he had to look for a female at all, let alone a lady, and even harder for one that fit his terribly English standards. Not even whores were safe from judging. At this rate one might find themselves floored. She stood up, nary a strand out of place as she sought to make the preperations for a game. Now, in order to fetch the best sets, (on display they would collect dust, god forbid, and this was not yet a proper household for she was still "moving in" as denoted by only a few pieces of her art on the walls) she had to stand on slight tip toe to reach the shelf above. The action, for skirts were in hand to let feet be free, showed a view of an ankle. (d)

Alendral: Oh my. wine and old games, dry humor and wit? He could scarcely believe his ears. "Oh my, Claramae! You wound me. here that? My pride, crushed." he chuckled again and leaned back on his chair, looking insufferably pleased by the turn of events, amused to see Claramae even be so relaxed as to be anything but the epitome of grace. "I do seem to recall you never being far from a chess set. " he crossed a leg and had to grin near ear to ear as Claramae forgot herself so much to even catch glimpse of dainty ankle! sufficed to say such sight was not unusual to him, but for Claramae it was positively unheared of, smirking grimly at the prospect of facing her on the board again. The truth of the matter was, Alendral had never beaten Claramae in chess. In fact, in early games it was hard to even get him to pay attention. He never personally did it think it fair. The woman refused to play any kind of card game with him, by contrast. "I will warn you though, I have had considerable practice since last we met. " was that a double entrende? of a sorts, but he was enjoying this hidden side of Claramae, all things considered.

Claramae: "So you've moved a piece since last we've met?" She batted her lashes, putting the box on a low table scooted over to his chair so that they might sit together and the game be set forth. Double entrende were suitable because they were at least denoting of wit, where as blatant remarks sullied a moment. Oh, make no mistake, on tip toe or on flat foot she was still the epitome of grace, but necessity is the mother of invention. She simply could stand on tip toe with suc skirts before her, and while coveringall but toes in front, the back could not be spared, alas. Given the late hour she had since forgone her stalkings for shoes that were lined in fur to warm her feet. The ankle was attached to lithe gamets certainly. But as it was the pieces most concerning them were such as : rook, bishop, king, queen, pawn, knight. "We shall see, my dear, we shall see." (d)


Alendral: Alen watched Clarmaae set about the board with a strangely nostalgic expression, holding his face in his hand, feeling a strange pull for events years ago. It reminded him so much of that day, a rare moment when he saw Claramae beside herself. The wine was just icing on the cake really, he could scarcely believe it. In fact, he didn't--the question was, what was urging Claramae to throw caution to the proverbial wind in his presence? even as close as they were, for her to stand aside properiety there could only be one answer. She is hurting. the realization of this kept him quiet, despite himself, unwilling to push the point, greeting her only with a smile when she worked again, and he found his heart uncertain, unsteady in her presence, just as it was all those years ago.


Claramae: Was it that she was hurting or simply that she wanted to know what it was like to be free? He came to her when she was in a state of repose but even Claramae was not alien to the concept of jolly moments. A little less than half-glass of wine, fur slippers, and unbound hair with a chess board were as wild for her as to others that ran up completely with lifted skirts or God forbid, went into seedy taverns. It filled him with longing as she was merely being a self layered and locked, locked and layered until it was impossible to know what was the true face. Was it that he saw her as unbound or wished that the unraveling would go so far as to see the one that laughed when he'd danced with her? One will know pain, one hurts, if that is tadamount to living, that is tadamount to living." Never complain. Never reveal the suffering. The game was set up, her troubling the pieces until they were just so, then passing him a glass of wine (d)

Alendral:"Why thank you." the Magician smiled genuinely, taking the glass--the first move, again. If he didn't know better he'd swear she was taunting him. With some careful deliberation, he moved the first pawn, and set about the game, narrowing his eyes as he waited to see the woman's riposte. If she thought he'd simply roll over and die like last time she would be in for a huge surprise, he suspected! grinning near cheshire, he'd wait for her to indulge herself before taking a subtle sip himself. Lord, to think that he would one day be sipping wine with Claramae over a game of chess, how strange and capricious the fates were!

Claramae:After the first move, she made another to prepare a counterstrike to some future event that was several moves from happening - or so he might think. The psychological deliberation was made worse with wine, a lax demeanor, because Alexander had not seen her this way in many a year. It was hard to forget that she, like others, had hobbies. Desires. Wants. Fears. For all the humanity Vittergaust bid them cultivate, his feminine counterpart had always been mildly bereft of a maiden's giddy nuances. He found her concentration a blessing, her seriousness a personal tragedy. (d)

Alendral: Ah, but where Claramae enjoyed the long game, Alen responded by seemingly changing tatics entirely, moving another piece that would likely surprise her and throw it into question. In fact, he did that seeveral times, seemingly changing strategy in mid game, always flowing from one to the next. The purpose was two-fold. In previous games, Alendral's problem was the seemingly random movements he made playing with his heart, only a few moves ahead at best. Now his moves were like a tapestery--one strategy became another, a piece moved, sacraficed seemingly for strange purpose, only to be revealed turns later. all the while he said scracely a word, only more with his eyes, watching her expression, waiting to see some sign of surprise, of approval, something, sipping at his wine again whilst grinning ear to ear.

Claramae: The tapestry threads flew across the board to tie his pawn and her pawn, a rook to a knight. Queens dancing a weary waltz on behalf of the King. Time changes us; it makes the lesser our equal, our heroes human. Claramae's face was passive over the cup of wine until a moment came when the hint of a small smile cracked. He'd learned to play chess. Not attempted or played with weak passion. Thought became his hands and the hands moved on the heart of the board, and not his heart in the place where thought was in utter absence. Tactic logic, mathematics, science and poetry sang electric in the current of a piece pushed forward. (d)

Alendral: Learned in hopes of one day plying against her again. The playful grin was a new as the Queen was met with waiting entourage, daring her to extend her hand and lose it a small price. The bishop advanced, watched over by knight safeguarded by pawns. a few moves in, and his gambit shifted like water, raising his eyebrows to her as if to challenge her to unravel him. Oh he was enjoying this. He might even actually win a game, once. All the while he picked at the king's defenses, removed his support, much as the spy hoped to do so in similar vein. the smile invigorated him, and sent his heart aflutter again. Victory within his grasp. Who would have thought?

Claramae: Until the moment she betrayed his confidence by uncloaking a bishop he thought he had thought was his for the taking moving to capture his secondary knight, which in the next moves after left pawn against pawn in a calvacade of what was little less than spell binding. Did he think it would be easy? Still, she was delighted to have the chance. Michael had been her only chess partner of late for the work of Avaria had been too much that it dulled even the razored wit of Voltaire or Larkin. Bromheilde did not indugle (nor did she speak much English, or speak at all). Now that Michael was recovering, Larkin gone, and Voltaire indisposed this was a rarity. A moment of sublime joy expressed with a cant of head. "Good advance." Two words. One meaning. (d)

Alendral: He smiled, sligthly again and, in response, got revenge on the wayward Bishop in but two moves. "Good defense." he riposted playfully. Even learning, he was forced to admit that Clara was a difficult foe to face, and that the element of surprise he had was recovered from. Several times he was forced to adapt, her catching on to a plan and forcing him to change his strategy completely again. It would make for many close calls, many foolhardy strategims, all the while watching her with mirted expression,never once betraying his consternation. Oh he was enjoying this. "My my my. If I should recall, the only man to defeat you in such game was Vittergaust himself, was it not? Perhaps I may have first to finish the legacy after all." he chuckled again and waited wryly for her next move.

Claramae: "Yes." She nodded her head as she said monotone for a moment, thinking. Considering which move to make, she could see that he would have her at checkmate in many possible avenues. But one did these things until the end, and it was not over until it was truly over. "Vittergaust gave me my first set from abroad. He purchased it from a Palmer, come from Jerusalem." It was not the one they played on now, for a Jerusalem chess-set was akin to a saint's relic from the hand's of their old master. She had never wished to play upon it, but set it up often, and saw the games that used to happen on it with accuracy, how they went, how they might go now. That was pleasure enough, but she'd never told him where it came from till now. One got the impression that at first between Gotschalk, Vittergaust, and St. Laurence, St. Laurence was the young woman he doted upon in the absence of his own family. (d)

Alendral:"I remember. " and it continued long after Alexander had appeared. It was not to say that Vittergaust was unkind to Alexander--quite the opposite, but he knew full well who was his favored. by the end of it, Alexander only had the pendent to remember him by. but then he knew from her. He mentally made a note of something to do in the future, smiling gently whilst waiting for her to make her move. "I remember when he first tried to explain the rules to me. I believe said something like... oh... let me think." He cleared his throat and unintentionally spoke as a fraction of the old Alexander--though he did not consider that old Alexander was, in his own way, attempting to mimic Gottschalk. "This is a stupid game. I see no reason to play it." he chuckled again and, in smooth gesture, finished off the wine, probably not the most delicate gesture, but such was his nature.

Claramae: "To sharpen the mind is to sharpen the greatest tool that one has in the Game, for he told me that it was like chess. It was over chess he asked me to be his apprentice, and it was over chess he asked you the same, he had a way .Every method had a way, and he favored you with other things. Your illusions captivated him so," and they did, she did not remember holding the ability to make Vittergaust laugh or gasp until his sides near split, because she did not have that ability herself. But Alexander could, when he'd been pulled out. Sipping on the wine he'd say, "If only we had wed, dear girl," and I would say "Poor the wife I would have made you." and it went on so, even when I was no longer a girl. Ah now. Check." A surprise! When did it happen that she checked him instead of he checking her first. In truth, they might play long at this, he with bishop, she with bishop, each with a knight. The queens came tumbling down three moves before (d)

Alendral: "Oh perhaps, but these days I can't help but think I was kind of obvious then. I've gained a measure of sophistication. Oh! very clever..." he grinned mildly, escaping it and putting her into check in the same move. "Check." he smiled playfully again, lowering his head and smiling playfully. "He was right though, you know. About the part of you making a fine wife. At least to the one you showed your heart to. One of the world's great tragedies that our mutual professions makes such a thing unlikely amongst us.. but I see the value in what he said." he smiled again. He often wondered if Vittergaust had regretted, in the end, the world he brought Claramae into. The kind fo woman she might have become, free of it. but there was no other path. "Or still might, I suppose..." he leaned forward and awaited the riposte with eager eyes.

Claramae:"Yes, and poise that you had no sense of, nor clue, in those days. But the years meld us anew, as it is said." His annoucement of check made her grin, both at an impass. No matter the moves, each would say check! Soft chuckle escaped her lips as she put two hands folded " I deduce each three equal moves apiece before your fourth finds me at checkmate. And this day indeed has come, you've learned to play chess. It is said that when this is mastered you understand the whole of the game." Vittergaust knew, as a pair of hands or even an active head in the Game, that her path would lead her here regardless. Curious to unravel her mother's death, she walked the line with such precision as to not faul that such devotion demanded a careful guardian. "A fine wife? Alexander, you are kind, though as a wife of a common man I would be ill-suited. The lamp beneath the bushel would be e'er too bright, and his lineage would cease to go forward." Meaning that women of education were unmarriagable, and those with no viable wombs had no saving graces. Still she leaned forward and said, "It is not impossible. Vittergaust himself was married, his wife Danielle merely did not know everything, but she knew. I do believe the woman was no fool. But..you suppose what now?" She leaned forward over the few-pieces game to look at him directly(d)

Alendral: "I merely mean to say that I have never scarcely seen you steel yourself for anyone but the old master, and your loyalty humbles me even to him." He nodded cooly, a pang of regret at the name of Danielle passing through him expertly as he basked in his partial victory, so it would say. To be honest there was a part of him that almost... wished he hadn't. It was like the end of something, something he did not truly care to face, but the thought of it did not pass him. "Things are not always as such, Claramae, as I've learned. The whole world doesn't revolve around properiety. Skye is as good a place as any to strike on your own." he waved his hand a bit dismissively and smirked, shaking his head. "But I get ahead of myself. The day you hear Alexander Sorschal is to be wed is the day I've quite possibly lost my mind." he grinned again and moved to stand, crossing over the side of the table.

Claramae:"Vittergaust, to me, was then and remains a man whom took me when the world was strange. I returned to London, with all of my possessions, where my father in Ireland remained to be a shadow of himself. Having it not, I stumbled into things that would allow me to deduce what I had wholly believed to be the truth of my mother's death all along. I could navigate the courts of London, but without him the world that I had only breeched the surface of would not have unfurled. He was as stern as a father, as good as a brother, as forgiving as a friend. This world aside, Alexander, you are but one of a few I have ever had in my entire lifetime." It was true that the smiles of the courtiers were but those, and few of the women no matter how often they socialized could hardly be as friends. Those that she did call as such did as they ought: were arranged in good marriages, bore good children, moved on to other courts of esteem while she only moved on to other courts in a manner unlike them. "Loyalty with me, has always been abseloute given there is no cause to change it. No, things are not as such here, to my amusement." She chuckled softly at the social clime but found it allowed her an easier place. When Apollo's reign fell, the Steward found women were better seen than heard, but Claramae proved useful in that her intelligence could be put to course while the aspects of the feminine usual were employed. "Married, you? I wager that as mad as it sounds, I always thought you were that sort. That you would take a wife and continue on, or retired wed. But if that day deems you crazy than mad I shall be by the time I watch you. Come now you've won the game, but finish your moves.." It was the end of an era where the unstoppable was stopped. Alas, our heroes are proven mortal and we are no longer children cleaving to the mystique as we go to bed. A few strands of hair hung in her face as she leaned her head down to watch, the lot swinging this way or that.(d)

Alendral: That's when Alexander would do something strange, not even sensical. he fixed her with a level expression than, in talk of the future, and found himself at pause. He reached over, and, after a moment, tipped his king over, fixing her with an expression. His words grew heavy. "...Not yet. Not until this is over. When this is beind us, I'll best you in the game but not before it. In that, neither of us can die till we see it resolved." It was talk of the future that shook him, of seeing each other. For a brief, fleeting moment he realized how fragile it all could be, and rebelled against the very idea. "So we won't fail, understand?" the hint of uncertainity. He knew how she saw it ending--because he saw it end the same way.

Claramae: "Oh now a gentleman does not detract, and I hope you would not for the benefit of my fairer being." A moment's scolding because as a youth he often gave in, thinking it of all things unwise to go against his master when what she wished to impart was that at times the strongest desire was the desire right in standing alone. He tipped his king, and as he spoke she stood up and came around the board. The bishop incarnate before becoming the Mighty Queen, for she was never the King, with few moves and relying only on his court to save him. But he, either the sturdy stone castle or the valiance of Knight, was too but a piece or two more before the heart of the board. Turning to look at this, his abdication, she realized just how much he wanted not to let her or himself go. He wanted this moment when they talked of the victory, recovering of wounds but with the zeal of the hunt finished to erase the horrors of old nightmares. Breathing in softly, she said, "This will be the only game you ever abdicate." She cautioned him, a silent homage to finishing what was began, butshe nodded."We win, and return to tell the tale for no one else shall" She leaned down, but not to right the knocked down piece as he suspected but to kiss his forehead. "Go to bed, Alexander. Go to bed." She smoothed a short strand of his hair back and another, smiling to him as she held his face. "Until morning." Knowing that he counted each one as if it were their last.(d)

AlendralThe spy's eyes closed, never the Illusionist before her, at the gentle affection, touching her arm without even thinking it. Were it the last, he would both cherish and feel anguish at this memory. "Of course... of course Claramae. You as well." he said, near breathlessly, meeting her gaze with clouded expression, he felt leaden with emotion, closer to her now than he ever had been, her equal, and the way it drew him to her was maddening. To think her lost, undone by the machinations of that bastard. To see her taken apart in sick game opened a part of him that sent what good folk said rest in his heart recoiling. Krause saw fit to unravel them, but Alen saw fit to stop at nothing to keep it from happening. he would not see her undone! no matter what it cost! his lips had want for words, but he felt none would sufficed, and so departed in silence.

[nairneadair]

"It will haunt me more to do naught and watch people, friends, die. I say yes, Sir Alendral."
- Nairne Beathas Adair, Courtesan

Alendral: What would Nairne make of all this? that was the question that Alendral would faintly consider while he takes to his business over the morning, seeing to odds and ends. For example, perhaps Nairne would be surprised to note that she had a appointment arranged with none other than Alen, already on the books, waiting for her time. Perhaps she might wonder why he'd take to such a thing--he'd only visited Ursula a night before after all. Perhaps she would wonder why a few of her regular customers, without much word, would quietly cut back their business with her--maybe a few would even avoid her entirely. She might wonder a lot of things, when the Magician finally came knocking, clad as if fresh from a show, in stylish black, a tailed coat of soft fabric, fine shoes and a rakish air. It was not ofa murderous spy for the time being, he was very much his cover, save for a faint bruising near his eyelid, which by now was hardly noticeable 'less one were to look too close, patiently waiting. Of course, he wasn't stupid--he didn't fancy Nairne the kind to panic, but it wasn't impossible, and Vance wasn't far outside, just in case the meeting would go entirely more awkward and they were forced to change the tenor.

Nairne: Panicking was generally not in the nature of the woman seated upon her window seat. Except in the situation of the Wolfman. That had been a rare moment, brought on by the confusion and the fear of seeing such a...man. Lack of customers though suspicious was attributed to the current state of her arm, that was healing quite nicely and she was sure to be out of its sling soon. Yet what she could not fathom was one simple matter: The man on her list of visitors. Why? She knew just as any other Lily did that he had visited Ursula only the evening before and that he was her frequent suitor. Of course, she also recalled quite clearly what he'd revealed that night at the Briar Rose and that allowed her mind to constantly wander toward thoughts...most ludicrous. Nairne was not one for silly daydreams. They annoyed her massively. For the evening she chose a perfectly tasteful gown, the color of ice, with a square neckline and capped sleeves. It wasn't provocative nor too drab, just simple and quaint. A smile of amusement flickered onto her lips at the knock and she moved toward it, skirts brushing together in a whisper, as one hand pulled open the door. Her look at Alendral was a calm, pleasant mask, hiding the curiousity brewing inside her. "Good evening, sir."

Alendral: "Lady Nairne. so nice to see you again!" he responded, all pleasing smiles gently past her, tugging on his coat to straight it with all the pretense of an innocous visit, closing the door behind him. "Please, have a seat. " Seemed odd to be bossing her around in her room, but keeping her off balance was the point, withdrawing a sheaf of papers behind him. "Sorry to go to all the trouble, mind you. You do understand I've a reputation to uphold. Why I figured you'd be right pleased to be taking a visit from Lady Darlings clientele. Talk of the house for a time I'd suspect... I felt like we didn't really have a chance to talk last time we met. Too much going on--consequently, I hope your arm is doing better--too many other ears in the room. There was a lot I wanted to talk to you, in point of fact, but I with all the timing of the events. Please, sit down... sit down." he urged quietly and pulled into his sleeve, withdrawing a few strips of parchment from a hidden compartment in the table and setting it down in front of her.

Nairne: "A pleasure to see you as well, Sir Alendral." Of course, Nairne barely had a chance to squeeze those words out before the man was stepping inside her room. Door closed to block out any curious eyes, knowing that none would be foolish to place an ear to it as she liked to randomly toss stuff at it, Nairne felt her curiousity grow. Pretense was quite obvious. "Well, sir, I'd be pleased if I knew the reason for my receiving Lady Darling's clientele. Does she not satisfy you anymore?" An inquisitive look followed the remark, which did not hold as much of its jealousness as usual. Then again there were reasons. Resuming her seat on the windowbench, allowing him to take the desk chair if wished, indigo eyes moving to the papers that appeared. Exactly what was going on here? "You seem to have my full attention this evening." Wasn't that the truth?

Alendral: "Well that's good." He laid them out for her to see--they had names, numbers, figures, and... formula. The ingredients of which might get her attention. "You enticed me, Lady Nairne. Piqued my curiousity. I had to know a few things. So I've been watching. Keeping tabs on things, learning a little about you--it's important, you see, to know your audience. Play to their expectations, know their limitations, that kind of thing. I've learned a lot about you, I think. Some interesting things. Mind telling me about this?" he'd let his eyes fall on her for a minute, reading beneath them, looking for the merest flicker of recoginition. "Busy woman. Full schedule by all accounts, still enough to run some business on the side. You ever sleep? I had trouble figuring out when that was..."

Nairne: If there was one thing anyone knew about Nairne it was that she valued her privacy above else. It was hard to find such as a woman in her business and yet she succeeded. Or so she'd thought until her gaze picked up on the formula on that paper. That this man had taken it upon himself to...spy on her...vastly ticked her off. She could feel the fury rising inside her, burning through her blood,"Who do you think you are, Sir Alendral? My business is my own, no concern of yours, and here it is laid out as plain as day." A little fear did play into the outraged tone, but not much. She tried not to let him see how much it bothered her. Nairne had plenty of secrets to keep a lid on, her side business just one, and that he now knew of it...well, it begged the question,"Just what else have you learned?" Staying seated was a task in itself when she wanted to rise and slap the man. She let her indigo gaze flicker once again to the papers and then back to him. She would not say another word for now.

Alendral: "Settle down." it was not an easing tone, it was not an order. There was a dangerous edge to his voice that needed no further intimidation, it was simple as that-at once, Alen seemed like a serpent coiled to strike. "IF it wasn't my concern I wouldn't be looking into it. Turns out it s. So your business is mine. That's how it is." he could have burned into her. " Let me elaborate." he waited for the effect the words had on her and continued. "I don't care about these... remedies. This... let's say amorous concoction. That doesn't bother me. But some of this? You always know who you're selling to, Nairne? You always completly sure? That's why it's my business. No more arguing about it. Now answer my questions and this stays cordial, understand?"

Nairne: As a child there were lessons learned. Particularly the one about knowing when to hold your tongue. She could remember the retribution, in both the situation with her supposed mother and with her former patron, and so upon hearing that tone her eyes instinctively widened. Jaw hardening, indigo gaze glued straight at his face, she clenched her hands in her lap and listened. Inside her was a voice that told her if he tried anything there was a lovely little knife hidden under the book on her bedstand. His questions caused brows to furrow and shoulders to shrug as she murmured,"I do some checking, of that you can be assured, though not much. My clients do not pay to be...looked into. They pay for what I can place in their hands and that is that. Coin for vial, and then we part ways." Going quiet again, she gave a brief nod of acquiescence, and waited for more of his questioning. Just what was the point of this? A lecture? Blackmail? Only time would tell.

Alendral: "Of course you don't. Not entirely. That's why it's my problem. You're working for yourself and only yourself and if doesn't interest you than it's of no interest to you. Thing is, you're dealing in dangerous things. At least they could be dangerous in the right hands. Turns out they got there, too. Man named Ulnor, vicous bastard. He was planning on taking Shaden, in fact. If you were curious. " he narrowed his eyes cooly for a moment and cleared his throat mildly and folded his hands, the picture of calm again. He would have been even if he knew she had vaguely contemplated defending herself with a knife should this turn violent. "Maybe I'm being rude, I really do admire your sense of privacy. It took a while to find this, consequenly some of the less forthcoming clients--who I assure you, were very bad people, and I admire the fact that Ulnor had to work through several intermediaries in order to gather some of his materials. But that's the problem. Some of this work you do... right now, is actively working against me. I can't exactly leave an avenue for men like this to gather up your materials, you see, abide by a vulnerability."

Nairne: Horror shifted through her at his words, but anger too. Nairne did not like the idea of Shaden being hurt or brought to harm in any way. She admired the woman and thought dearly of her. Yet, the way Alendral spoke was in a way insulting. Just a tad bit. "You act as though I knew another client was buying for another, and so on." Shutting her mouth, she glanced away from him and out the window. It couldn't be hidden though that a brief feeling of pleasure was gained from his words and that smirk appeared again. Looking at him, brow raised, she asked softly, aiming to infuriate perhaps, the way he'd done her,"Have I been a thorn in your side, Sir Alendral? Have you come to have me plucked?" A smart retort, her tone soft and suggestive, though moreso to annoy. She didn't particularly care to bed the man anymore. That was life.

Alendral: "Not exactly. I"ve just come to impart the gravity of the situation in your business. What you're doing now alows foul men to commit foul deeds. This is a problem. But the woman causing me the problem? Well, like so many of us, she's doing what she needs to do to survive. I can respect that. You've got nothing but this job to get by on and you want to get by under your own cleverness. I can respect that too. But what you do currently complicates my life, and I don't need that complication right now. So... I'm going to offer an alternative. A new lot in life. New side-business. Way to earn your own lot, only this one leaves less bodies, well, less innocent bodies. That sort of thing. " he shot her a grin, leaning forward. "Let me be blunt. There's a war on. Storm clouds gathering, rally and the banging of swords against their shields. Actually, two wars, one that you can see. One that you can't. The second kind.. well, Skye's not equipped in that. I know a lot about you Nairne... so I know enough that you value this place above all else. So I'm offering you an alternative. Protect Skye, Nairne, earn your keep... put an end... to this." he tapped a finger on the parchment and smile, a pure, showman's expression. "And our relationship changes."

Nairne: "If I were to refuse?" Was she serious by asking such a question? Well, curiousity did kill the cat. Yet, she was intrigued by the words spoken. The offer made. He had a point honestly- she did care about Skye. This was the only place that had ever felt like home. Even if she'd come here against her will. That innocent people were dying by her potions brought an inward cringe. She had not meant for that to happen, truly. Except that being a courtesan, as much as she was in favor of the coin earned, was not something she wished to do her entire life. There was also the fact that if ever she was to lose this...business...then she had something to fall back on. Well, unless Alendral took that one away. When he leaned toward her there was absolutely no change from the calm expression upon her features except the delicate arch of a brow. She didn't move back nor seek to look away. Nairne had had enough of fear to last her a lifetime.

Alendral: "Then first, you put an end to this side business, or at least control it better so it doesn't fall into the hands of men I can't have it falling into. Or we have a professional problem, and we find some way to sort that out." He replied flatly, in a matter of fact tone of voice. It wasn't a threat or a warning, simply something that had to be dealt with, as far as he was concerned. "Consequently you won't be alone in this. Ursula's already agreed. I've still to speak with Moira. Shaden, too, and a few others outside the Lily. " he shrugged lightly again. "Consequently, this is priviliged information, and if by chance you refuse and I find any of their safety jeporidized, our relatinoship gets very violent. but you care about all these people, even if you play games with them, you care about them a bit too much for that, if my assessment's correct. But... to be hoenst with you Nairne, the largest thing that will happen should you refuse is... People will die Nairne. Your friends will die. Maybe some of them, maybe all of them. THere's a war coming, and I need... every clever, and intelligent, and skilled, every potential person at my side, learning my art, to defend this country against its enemies. I'm not threatening them, I'm telling you. If you refuse, it's one less person to defend Skye's inner circle. You're qualified, you're... an artist, in your craft." referring to her previous art. "And, for all the things I've learned about you, Nairne, I believe I can trust you. So... that's where we are. I don't promise it will be easy--I can't promise your safety. All I can promise is that you will be seen to, and... in this profession, dear Nairne... you can get as far as your wits, and your will, and your strength will carry you."

Nairne: That was alot to deal with. In truth, Alendral should have known that she could not refuse. Especially when he quite simply listed names that were near and dear to her. Even Ursula, as much as she had some cattiness toward the woman, was someone she could not imagine being hurt. A truly cold-hearted Courtesan would have shrugged, quite bluntly told him to leave, and went about her business with pleasure at the thought of competition being taken away. Perhaps Nairne was not as cold-hearted as she sometimes liked to think herself. There was no comment made to what he said though, his comments about her skill, as she'd never really considered it anything special. Though now he seemed to think it was. Raising a brow, glancing briefly to the side, a bit of weaness showed as she chewed her lip and thought. Others hurt. It was something she couldn't handle the thought of. Glancing back, a bit of anger, not at him, showing, she muttered,"What will I do? I can make potions, Sir Alendral, yet I cannot even protect myself nor another. I will not refuse. Though I do not know how...I can be of use besides a few vials here or there when requested."

Alendral: "You will learn. " he hesitated than, withdrawing another paper and setting it on the table to show her--it was simply an image. a black feather, framed in a simple circle, for her to see, his expression heavy when his eyes on her, laden with meaning. "... We are to become the Order of the Black Talon. The weapons of Skye, the instruments in the protection of her country. We do what needs be done to protect our borders from all enemies... within and without. " If Nairne was a cold-hearetd Courtesan, Alendral would have never approached her. He would have never broached the subject, and she'd never learn the secrets behind him (which ironically, is why Chloe would never hear of him). "...If you agree, simply say yes. I will summon for you. That will be the time to make your final decision. After you memorize the details ofthe missive--burn it. It will tell you where to go. Show there and I will see you trained in all the arts. You will be my eyes and ears. I will teach you to defend yourself, to strike when you need--you will be no assassin, 'less you wish it, only defense for now. You will be a crafter of poisons--you will be teach the others what you know and we in turn will fill your own holes in knowledge. You will become a master in al things. It won't be easy. Nor safe. You will do things... perhaps, that may haunt you later. So it must be your decision to make. Consider carefully..."

Nairne: "What is there to consider?" A rhetorical question, quite clearly, by her tone and that steady gaze that now moved from the symbol upon the paper to his face. His words had steadied the anger, the bitterness, that had ate away inside her since the attack. It was not fully gone, but with time. For now though it would not interfere. In this she could help. In this...she could become stronger. More independent. Perhaps, that was a way to look at it. "It will haunt me more to do naught and watch people, friends, die. I say yes, Sir Alendral." A resolute nod and lift of chin followed those words. The decision was made. She would not take it back nor cower in fear. It was time to take control of that emotion instead of allowing it to control her.

Alendral: "Fine. than consider this your first task." now was time to go off the script, so to speak. "When you get he missive, you bring something with you. The boy, Renquest. He has a book that he's been scribbling.. well, a lot in. So I hear. Working here, so I here it. And, so it happens to be, terrified of you. Two important tasks. First, get the book and bring it with you. Second, don't make him suspicious. " he shrugged lightly, folding his hands in front of him as he waited for her to respond. He wasn't going to explain why he was curious, he didn't feel like has to. "Consider it a test. How you handle it is indicative of how much I need to teach you. Plus a decent idea on how you're going to handle things. Again, it's fairly important to him and he'd take notice to its disappearance... but harming him is off limits. And finally Nairne... Shaden absolutely can't know I told you to do this. Or Ursula. If it brings you trouble later, I'll intervene, but they can't know." And that was because she wouldn't approve. It was another form of a test.

Nairne: Now, that was a test. Renquest. That brought a playful yet unnerving smile. Well, if the boy himself had been there to see it. To get an important book from him. Hmm, that would indeed be a task. "I do imagine he would. He seems to love those books more than people." It shouldn't be too hard a task. That she could not harm him did make it trickier. A brow lifted, wheels turning in her head, as indigo eyes locked on Alendral's own gaze,"Oh, I do not think any harm will come to the boy. Though I cannot say that my means by...acquiring the book from him will be innocent." Nairne could remember how easy it'd been to pressure the details out of him. Except this was for a book to be kept precious. She was one known for her vials. They'd come in handy for this one.

Alendral: "That's fine. Do what needs be done. Just make sure you do so in a manner that keeps your innocence, and Shaden gets no suspicision.. 'till now it's.. just a hunch of mine. I have no evidence yet, and she wouldn't approve of me seeing her employees turned on one another. As personal advice, I can only tell you that I do not know if he's committed any sin yet. If you.. were to harm him, and find him innocent, it would haunt you for a while. If it's one thing I wish to teach you when this is over, it's that your conscience will be the only thing that can guide you some time. But.. believe me, this is important. I need the information in that book. So do what you must do." he stood slowly then, adjusting his jacket, moving to exit her room without much else on the subject. "And Nairne? Thank you. You may come to loathe me in the passing weeks, but know that you have my thanks--as well as the Kingdoms, for agreeeing to this. " he grinned again, the showman's smile, bowed, and opened the door again. "Have a pleasant evening, Nairne."

[takes place before mayhem murders]

[nairneadair]

A Task Fulfilled

Nathan: Sufficed to say, it had been a long time since Nathan was menaced by any catty Courtesans, and also had too much to do to worry about it. The tumultous days ahead saw him busier than usual--not only covering from Shaden, who was here perhaps but in no place to work, but in the several side jobs he had picked up, among them one for the High Scholar. It meant that he was more scarce than usual--though to say Nate ventured out to fraternize with the others to begin with might be overstating it to begin with. Having long since moved out of the kitchen storeroom--thank god for that small mercy! Nate's new office was actually the library itself, though he had spent increasingly less time in it and more within the Scholar's hall. Today he was finishing up the daily work for the Lily with his usual brisk efficency, his mind already eagerly on other tasks, recording small details as he saw fit. And all the while, his little book, the one that held the interest of a certain spy rested within arm's reach of his table he worked on, head bowed as he scribbled away. Why someone like Alendral would have any interest in a man like this, well, that was a mystery.

Nairne: Business at the Lily went on as usual, never seeming to slow even considering the current conditions. If anything some would must that the Lily's lived better than some others in Turas Lan. In truth though, they felt the restraints of hard times just as much. Each of the Courtesans were lessening there buying of extravagant fabrics or items, trying to help keep supplies of food in the storeroom, and honestly it was not a hardship. This was their home. Even Nairne, moody as she could be, was not adverse to helping where needed. It didn't mean though that with everything going on she'd forgotten about her 'date' with a mysterious man or the task he'd set her too. Actually, today finally giving a few free moments, Nairne put on her most pleasant looking gown, a day dress of blue silk with a square neckline and long sleeves. Sable hair was put up in artful curls, some left to hang loose from the bun at the back of her head for effect. Hidden in the folds of her skirts were a few tools of her 'trade' that would aid her. Humming softly, she walked toward the library, a hunter looking for its prey.

Nathan: Despite being immersed into his work, Nate lived by his observance. the subtle humming, the sound of the door to the library opening had him shutting the books almost instinctively and standing from his chair. The flip side of not being in the store room was people visited the library, which meant some interruptions--by now he had gotten used to it. Who interrupted him, however, had him bristling with discomfort the minute she came in. Ramrod straight, he cleared his throat subtly and uneasily sunk back into his chair. "Oh... ah, hello, Miss Adair." the forced politeness said volumes about how he thought about her--there was a nervous energy in his voice that was impossible to miss. Of course, there was nothing to say she wasn't here to check a book, and, in that vain hope, he delved back into his books.

Nairne: Memories of their last encounter were likely still fresh in the young man's mind. It'd been quite amusing for Nairne too. He'd caved, gave the information instead of the kiss, and now she noted the way he spoke and acted as she stepped into the library. "Tsk tsk why so formal, bookworm? You can call me Nairne..." There was a suggestive quality the way her own named rolled off her tongue as the door would click shut just afterward. If that didn't make him more nervous..well there were other methods. Moving toward where he sat, steps leisurely, she allowed indigo eyes to move from him to roam across book titles. Though she watched him out of the corner of one eye, to see what he did.

Nathan: Intimidated by Nairne? oh yes. The last encounter was all too fresh in his mind. Terrified? considerably, considering the way she said his name sent a chill down his spine, the way he watched her like some sort of startled prey animal that's spotted a hunter, slipping uneasily back into his chair, clearing his throat again. Truth be told, the last thing he wanted to do was get familiar with the woman's name. It was as if being anything but formal would lead to more trouble than he cared to contemplate. Seeming to keep things light in the face of it, he asked, a certain amount of uneasiness laced into the tone. "Ah.. looking for another book then?" which, given where they were seemed like a stupid question, but it paid to be at least polite. Her silent observation would yield one important fact--Nate would only look at her for fractions of a second, averting his gaze, with every step closer. It was almost comical, really. With hesitant, stop-start motions, he flipped open the ledger carefully and drew up his pen, reluctantly returning to his work.

Nairne: A bird trapped inside a room with closed windows, fluttering its wings in agitation. That was what Nathan reminded Nairne of as she walked a loop about the area around where he sat before turning back toward him. His question brought a slight lift of one brow and a considering look as she glanced briefly back toward the bookshelves. Her voice when she spoke was a low whisper, tempting and sweet, not overly seductive nor passionate as normal. Oh no, Nairne was about a different game. "Actually...Nathan..." She let his name roll off her tongue in a somewhat innocent way and continued onward as she approached where he sat. Now indigo eyes were on him, perusing as she fell quiet. As if having trouble finding what was needed to be said. Nairne was good at playing coy, adapting to a role, as it paid to be diverse in her line of work. Stopping a little bit away, locking hands at her waist and twisting her fingers in a semblance of agitation, she murmured in a bruised tone,"I was considering our last...discussion..." and she let that hang there for a bit.

Nathan: Well that was unexpected. in fact, he was so surprised at her that the agitation gave way to sheer puzzlement, turning flecked brown eyes up at her with a plainly befuddled expression. "I'm sorry, what?" he had of course, initially thought that she was teasing him--meant to twist his arm to get more information, but there was something in her tone that suggested something else. Guilt? Well, he was surprised by that, but even the small threat he'd defensively bubbled up was enough to wrack him with guilt afterwards. "Ah... Look, I already talked about it. It turns out that it was my mistake. Really, there's nothing to worry about..." oh, so that's what it was. Nate had merely assumed that she was worried about her discrepencies threatening her job, and he went to put them to rest. "Don't... don't even worry about it." he waved his hand a little bit again to her dismissively to punctuate his point. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply any suspicision on your part." at least that much was genuine. strange to think that in all his nervousness, he didn't feel good about thinking poorly of Nairne...

Nairne: Standing there, watching him silently, inwardly a satisfied smile began to appear. Outwardly though brows were allowed to furrow in confusion that would mirror his own earlier puzzlement of not even moments ago. "Oh...I..." Pausing, shaking her head, the movement allowing lose curls to brush against the soft skin of her cheekbone, she continued on more softly and with a hint of nervousness,"I did not mean that. What I meant was about the options given...and the one you chose." Allowing her eyes to lower slightly in a display of shyness, hands loosened to allow one to toy with the fabric of her skirts. "You see...I was wondering...why it is that you chose that particular one." Nairne was adept at the innocent, it was more a hint of the real her pushed aside when she'd been tossed into this world, role. "I was hoping that you'd...pick the other one." The last was admitted in a soft, breathy whisper that'd make one wonder if they'd even heard right. Nairne knew that she needed to get him completely off-balance to get that book.

Nathan: If Alen thought she'd find challenge in Nate, well, he either over-estimated Nathan or vastly underestimated Nairne. needless to say, she had him completely flabbergasted, to such extent that he scrawled the last number badly, making it exaggerated and illegible as his eyes snapped upward, wide as they could be. "Beg your pardon?" his face flushed at the very idea of it--was she playing with him? She had to be, it seemed like such a game to her. she had to be playing with him now, right? Pinned to the wall by the very sentiment, he stammered out his reply with a great amount of effort on his part. "Ah.. oh... uh, well, that. Look, it wasn't that I wasn't flattered.. I was... and I mean, you are a very.. ah.. well..." he laughed nervously then, rubbing the back of his head and looking down. "Well, you are very pretty but I mean, I can't claim to know you very well. It just... it didn't seem proper and furthermore, I was told not to fraternize with fellow Employees.... that's all. B..Besides, you'd probably be ah.. well you'd probably be disappointed anyway, I'm afraid." he tried to make light of it, though obviously he was in a hundred different directions at this point, looking somewhere between terrified and grief-stricken. It was the conundrum. He was clearly shy, a nervous wreck, and still concerned about the poor woman's feelings in the matter.

Nairne: It crossed her mind that this man was not very threatening nor much of a challenge. Yet she'd always learned in life not to underestimate others. They always surprised you in the end. Chewing on her bottom lip, listening to the way he stammered out an explanation, Nairne let her indigo gaze move from his face to drop down toward the floor. She stared at the tips of slippers that peeked out from underneath the hem of her gown, hand still fidgeting, as she looked a bit dejected. "Ah that...of course..." A bit of suggestion to her tone, as if she suspected other reasons for his refusal and yet didn't want to say them. Getting him to feel guilty was working just as well too. Moving forward, to walk in front of the chair where he sat, close enough for her leg to brush his own through the fabric of her skirt, she purposely allowed her foot to catch on the leg of the table. Leaning overly forward, one hand stretching out as if about to fall, she clasped his knee where he sat for support. Flushing, curls slightly shielding her face, she sighed,"Did I damage your page?" Genuine concern, was that what it was, for the fact that she might have caused him to make a mistake....

Nathan: Well so much for his ledger. the jostling sent antoher scribble across the page, but ever the nobleman he'd drop his pen at the sudden start and bring both hands up to her shoulder, all too aware of the placement of hand and proximity, flushing considerably, whilst he subtly tried to ease her back--as much to right himself as to put some actual distance between the two. "Ah, don't... worry about it, it won't take me long to write another copy." The poor lad, for all his nervous tics, flashed her an honest, genuinely reassuring smile. He honestly was buying her act wholesale, regardless of intent. He didn't understand how the same woman who delighted in tormenting him earlier could suddenly seem so shy and beside herself now, but the fact didn't bother him. The actual subject however, well that was another matter. The poor boy was literally wrought with tension, though the reasons why were plain as day on him. Deciding that he couldn't work for the time being, he'd busy his hands afterwards with closing up and setting aside the various books, clearly avoiding broaching the subject again.

Nairne: Well, that was unexpected. Not that grasp of shoulder and his blush, but the smile he gave. It was pleasant and open. Ah, to not know what it was to pretend. To act. Masks were not needed to be worn by all and he seemed to not wear them. Nairne sometimes hated hers. Yet, they were a necessity especially in this moment. Nodding, recovering her balance and straightening, she watched him busy with his tasks while mentally contemplating what to do. He was too jittery. She needed to get him close enough to place finger upon lip, after allowing a drop of the sleeping potion to dampen it under the shadows of her skirt, and yet was not sure how. For the moment she just allowed herself to follow about,"Can I help you? It's the least I can do for the trouble I've caused..."

Nathan: Jittery and troublesome, it would seem. "Oh, no, really, it's fine. This is actually work I'm doing for someone else. A High Scholar here. She just asked me to put a few things together. Some.. business with some Lord named Maubery. It's just... a side project anyway. Well, one of them." he gestured lightly with his hand to one of the books, though it had not the worn quality Alen had described to her--apprently this was a new project of his. Greatful for the distraction, he passed her a pleasant enough look. "Also a little history into Skye. Really is an interesting place, its history, I mean" the poor lad thought this kind of thing actually might interest women, which plainly demonstrated that he had almost no skill at all with it. "Ah--and you haven't caused me any trouble really Miss... Nairne. I don't mind a little company now and then. Err... well, you know what I mean." he blushed modestly again and reached to tuck away his pen.

Nairne: Damn. A silent curse as indigo gaze lit upon the unworn book. That was not the one Alendral wanted. What had he done with that one? Where was it? Suppressing the urge to sigh, mentally berating herself for thinking it'd be easy in any way, she nodded her head to each point he spoke of. Her face was animated, as if interested in his books. Honestly, Nairne much enjoyed them though she wasn't likely to let him know that. "Maubrey? Not just some Lord, Nathan. He caused quite a bit of havoc here in Skye." Courtesans were kept up-to-date on current politics and events. It was one of Shaden's requirements. "Only a side project? Do you have a more important one?" Casually asked as she came to stand in front of him. He was quite close enough now that he'd paused to tuck away the pen and Nairne took note of his words, and blush, with amusement. A slight quirk of her lips, a playful sparkle in her indigo gaze, as she stated quietly,"Of course I do."

Nathan: "Yes.. yes he has. I actually believe the Scholar is looking for some kind of grounds to indict him on, in point of fact. " he shrugged lightly again. Of course, he had no need to hdie his 'more important work.' "Oh, well, I mean, there is my original employer. The one that brought me here. But he's patient enough, he just wants me to record local lore and history. You know, snapshots in time, all that kind of thing. I usually work on that before sleep, for the most part." Well at least he'd grant her a mercy at that, indicating the more worn tome at the edge of the table. "That's the reason I came to Skye, after all. At least at first anyway. but it's mostly just observations so far. I haven't had a chance to speak to anyone at length about it, so things are sort of sparse. Just details I pick up, that kind of thing. He's an old merchent, says it's important to know the regions he's interested in beginning trade relations--quite successful, too. " He shrugged again. "Bit of an eccentric, but well, he can wait." he shrugged again.

Nairne: "Well, that is unfortunate. None has taken the time to aid you?" Such shock displayed on her face, as if she actually cared, and it wasn't different from the Nairne of before. Her face held not a single trace of deceit. As if an idea came upon her indigo eyes widened and she stated excitedly,"Perhaps I could help. I do not claim to be an expert, but I know a bit. Plus, there are plenty of books I could help you go through if-" Stopping, as if realizing she was going on, she blushed and murmured awkwardly,"If you'd like my help that is. I know I have not been pleasant toward you..." Nairne couldn't continue without the book. That was the whole purpose of her little mission.

Nathan: Well he wasn't about to turn down the hand of a local, even if the particular local made him uncomfortable--less so now perhaps, but still uncomfortable. "Oh, well, I mean, I'd love the assisstance in any capacity you can offer it. Ah, please. " the poor woman, so frought over causing so much trouble to the young scholar."Listen, Nairne... really, I do understand. I was... well I was confrontational." Yes, that was confrontational for Nate. "and you were worried. Don't dwell on it, its in the past, water under the bridge, as it were. " came another smile. it was so weird, she had completely changed in personality. For all his skill with people, Nathan was simply too willing to see good in people, and so took everything he did as face value--not the more obvious answer, that she was deceiving him.

Nairne: A pleased smile, as if his words lifted a great weight from small shoulders, curved her lips as she looked at him. "Water under the bridge then." Nodding her head in agreement, she laughed softly. It was a sweet, musical sound and carefree. A different personality to say the least. Clasping her hands at her waist she murmured,"Where do we start then, Nathan? You lead and I will follow, wise one." Playful words to let him know that in this she was a novice.

Nathan: "Oh... well." he glanced around. "Mostly, actually, it's the current climate That he's interested in. Ah, who's who, who is in power.. .and well, who is really in power, if you understand my meaning. Primary profits, droll things as that. Histories of current families are always welcome. City records. Even a simple's who's who would be nice, but, honestly as someone who lived here, you might know something that'd be important more than I would. Tell me, if you were to tell a newcomer about Skye, where would you start?" A simple exercise, but it was one she would be able to answer easily enough.

Nairne: "That is quite simple. I would speak of the Gaelic Renaissance, its teaming market, and able-bodied leaders, the Duke and Duchess. Honestly, Skye is a land of diversity and setting precedent. I think that is the proper word...." Nairne laughed softly, because here she was speaking as herself. There was no pretending involved. "It is on thing that makes me love it and call it home." Pausing, wondering how much he wanted to hear, she idly ran a hand across the stomach of her gown. "Its market benefits from such diversity as well. With so many cultures mixing it makes for advances in all kinds of fields. Medical even."

Nathan: "Ah, so you would say the diversity is an asset. I admit it's most peculiar. Why, even the High Scholar here is from the Far East. it's the damnest thing I've ever seen! I've been writing about it at length, to be honest with you. It's.. well, I've never seen anything like it at all. I must admit, seeing it all work like this it's... exhilirating. Ah--if Icould live here myself permenetly, I would. To be honest. This is like.. well, some sort of scholarly heaven. But.. well. All things end eventually." He smiled sheepishly again. "Ah, do you have any readings you might direct me to regarding the Duke and Duchess, in point of fact? Records of statements, perhaps? Another Scholar that has written of them?"

Nairne: Writing about it at length. Those words were not missed by Nairne's keen mind even as she allowed herself to take some pleasure in the current conversation. She was careful though not to slip up and give away the game. "I have had the pleasure of crossing paths with the High Scholar as well as a man known as Aman-ud-Din who is of Arabic decent I believe." Nairne shook her head, brushing a loose curl off her cheek in an artful and innocent movement,"Oh, I cannot say that I have any particular readings though I think you can traverse the halls of Blue Castle to view parts of history. Paintings and the like. I have yet to go visit myself, unfortunately, though I do hope to go one day soon. Perhaps though the High Scholar might have some insight on them?" Smiling softly as the suggestion came to mind, she then canted her head to the side as if realizing what he'd said earlier,"Write of them? I should like to read what you have wrote sometime...if you do not mind. I imagine it is most interesting to read." Looking at him, she blushed a bit.

Nathan: The poor man blushed red, apparently finding the act fo reading his writing a bit more intimiate than what she was angling towards earlier, if that was to be believed. "Ah.. I... do not mean any offense when I say this, but.. they're not particularly interesting. I'm sure that you wouldn't " at the very mention of it he reached to take the book in question away, taking her advice in hand. "I..If you'd like to come with Ii'd be happy to take you along. I mean, the High Scholar certainly wouldn't mind." He smiled, uneasily. What kind of lad was more afraid of reading his book than kissing a woman, of all things? the poor lad had either no idea what he was wrapped in-or else an extremely good liar. "H...Honestly, it's kind of embarrassing. I haven't had a chance to proof-read, or anything like that... and.. and I mean..." he started to trail off again, trying to find his point but finding it lost amongst stammering and other nonsense.

Nairne: A mental bell dinged in her head as Nathan slipped the book away and began to stammer. That perfect opportunity had presented itself. While he stammered, flustered by the idea of her reading his writings, one hand stealthily slipped beneath a fold of her skirt to a hidden pocket. It was not large, just the right side to discreetly hold two thin vials that could be hidden by the other folds of the skirt, and she quietly removed the cork on the one on the left. The sleeping potion. Tilting it just a bit to dampen the tip of a finger, and slip it free. "Nathan..." His name came from her in a gentle, comforting whisper as she moved closer and lifted a finger with the intent of pressing it against his lips. An action to quiet him, but...with the potion dampening the tip it'd knock him out within a few moments...hopefully.

Nathan: Well it worked, hook, line and sinker. his face flushed again at the soft lip on his finger, though he could have swore there was a hint of moisture, and his eyes fluttered a few times, briefly. "Oh... sorry. Just.. I'm a little... well. I don't think I'm very good.. writing, you mean." he blushed gently again, but felt a strange pall cast over him. It was a dizzy spell that came from nowhere, and he wavered a little uncertainly. "Oh... Oh my. Ah, sorry, I just suddenly... ah, " he shook his head a little bit to dismiss it--the poison already working its magic, however insidious and subtle. His body already began to feel a bit sluggish, though oddly, his grip would tighten on the book all the more. Intent on carrying out what he requested, suddenly finding movements sluggish, he'd try to stand, but found his balance unsteady. the whole world took a soft, strange quality--he felt halfway between dreams and waking, all the sudden. In all liklihood, he'd scarcely remember what was going to transpire in the next few minutes.

Nairne: Concern twisted her face at his actions outwardly though inwardly she was pleased. Not that she'd done such to him, no, but that it'd worked. "Oh, dear, perhaps you should sit down..." His attempt to try to move alarmed her, especially if he accidentally knocked something over and made a ruckus. She didn't need to deal with people bargining in and interrupting now. Hands reached out to grip his arm and aid him into the chair, hoping that he was too disoriented from the potion to fight back, as she waited for it to begin to take full effect. His grip on the book seemed tighter than before and she couldn't risk taking it until she could be absolutely certain he wouldn't know it was her who had done so.

Nathan: "Oh.. oh my, I am sorry about that, Miss Adair. " his speech slurred just a little bit again, unable to fight back and rather unwilling to. Such was his unsteadiness that he reached to place a hand over hers to help steady himself, glancing over a little bit again. It was getting hard to fight off the urge to lie his head down, and even stranger, his mind was going. The semblence of nervous energy was strangely subdued, and already his mind was slipping into unconscious--closing off short term memories and emotions one by one. "I...I'm sorry, did you say you actually wanted kiss me earlier? S...Surely you must be joking..." the tone suggesting he saw incredulity in a girl like her taking any interest in him. "I mean, that's just silly.. me " He gave a vaguely tired laugh and shook his head again. "Oh... Oh bloody hell I'm dreaming aren't I?" he asked, somewhat irritably. Yes, that made sense, that was the only thing that made sense. he wasn't talking to Nairne, he was talking to some dream-like Nairne where beneath the serpent's eyes was an innocent woman that actually was interested in some bookish scholar. and ironically, even as he said it, his head lowered, still clutching the book. "I have stupid dreams." he said, matter of factly.

Nairne: "It is alright, Nathan." Her conscious reared up as he apologized. Nairne bit her lip and stood by the side of the chair to keep him company while he passed out. Yet she did visibly flinch at his incredulous tone and question. "It's not silly, Nathan." Placing a gentle sisterly kiss to his forehead, she murmured,"Someday you'll see."

Nathan: The words took on a curious, dreamlike quality, and his head rested against the desk while the drug finally pulled him under. Soon as it took hold, the book tumbled out of his hands, and consciousness took him completely, the picture of innocence, fully under the effects of the drug. The book--and its secrets, hers to take from his hands. Alendral would be no doubt pleased (though as it turned out, when he found out he actually drugged him he'd have a few choice words for her) but the scholar himself knew of no reason why... only the dreams that would comfort him while forces sought to unravel his life around him..

Nairne: "That is it...sleep..." The words were whispered, barely above a breath, as the potion finally took hold of him. Reaching down just in time to catch the book before it hit the floor, Nairne looked around a brief moment. A quilt was pulled off one of the couches and tossed over him gently. One nice thing she could do considering the trickery just played. Grabbing a couple other books from the shelves, to stack with the one being taken from Nathan, incase anyone asked questions, she slipped quietly out of the library and upto her room. A message would need be sent to Alendral now that she had acquired what he sought.

Alendral: Alen would show up shortly after receiving the missive, all clad in finery but looking decidedly unshowman like. Sufficed to say the stress over the past few days had gotten to him, so he had a hard time playing smiles and games. but if Nairne was calling for him, it could only mean thing. "Evening Miss Adair. I'm guessing you got what I asked of you." he replied in simple tones, tilting his head curiously as he ambled about her room to her. "Mind if I ask how you got it from him? If only to arrange for the High Scholar to be told a few reasons if he's.. well, in any bad shape or anything." He doubted it, but it needed to be said. Frankly, he half expected Nathan to be in bed with her or something--he knew the boy was a bit tightly wound, but he just figured that was her approach. That she didn't was comforting, in some strange sense of the word. "Let me see it."

Nairne: Pacing the confines of her room as she awaited his arrival, thinking that any minute something would go wrong, like perhaps Nathan awaking earlir than expected and remembering all of it, Nairne was impatient for Alendral's arrival. Yet, his appearance was quick enough to be honest. It just felt like forever. Getting her nerves under control so he wouldn't notice she was a bit flustered after such a mission, only due to the fact that it was her first one and she didn't want to mess it up, Nairne turned to face him. Indigo eyes noted his appearance though no questions came. It was not her place. "Good evening." In her hands was held the book that he so highly sought. Passing it toward him as ordered, she shrugged as casually as possible,"There should not be anything to recover from or to be remembered. Hopefully he will just think that he fell asleep while working..." That should have been clear enough how it'd been obtained from Nathan.

Alendral: "Oh Lord. I have to admit I was hoping for something a little more subtle than drugging him, but I admire you taking care of in a circumspect manner. As long as he suspects nothing, though..." " He sighed lightly again and started flipping through it. She'd be surprised to learn he didn't feel the need to right anything down. his head tilted this way and that, flipping over the pages now and again, seeming to stop at a passage and sighing briefly. It was exactly what he was afraid of, fit into his neat profile of the man and the man behind him. He could already glean details from it that he would normally find use in--and judging from his expression, he didn't like what he saw. "...This is.. this is excellent work Lady Adair. You are sure that he will not suspect foul play?" he handed the book back to her then, seeming satsified. If she was expecting more from his inspection, she wouldn't get it. When he got his affirmative, he'd nod. "Good. Excellent. You've performed admirably with little to no preparation. You have my thanks in that." he'd hand her a scrap of parchment then, which held a location and a time. "Be here at the time indicated, and burn the note after you've memorized it. In the meantime, I want you to keep an eye on him, just in case. " he also wouldn't tell her what he was looking for--at least if she didn't ask. Which begged the question, what was Alen so interested in. "Make sure he gets that back. It's imperative that he doens't think anything is amiss just yet..."

Nairne: "What would you have had me do? I couldn't knock him upside the head or cause harm. A sleeping potion was the best way to do it. Brought down his guard and..." She gave a shrug that seemed lighthearted though a bit of guilt leaked into her tone. Indigo eyes watched him as he looked at the book. Nairne had actually not read it. Not so much out of fear of Alendral or a lecture, but out of respect for Nathan. A courtesy considering what she' done to him. Accepting the parchment and the book back, she nodded,"I shall do so. He won't have an inkling." She was careful when she needed to be. Especially now. She couldn't risk Nathan realizing about the book or that she'd took it.

Alendral: He sighed then, the weight of a guilt weighing on the showman's mind, though. "Listen. Nairne. If my suspicions are correct about him... than somebody is watching the Lily. very closely, in fact. At the first sign of trouble I must be informed, immedietely, understand?" the implication of which was clear--Nathan was in some way connected to it, though he wouldn't say why. "If anything out of the ordinary occurs, I must be told about it." he sighed lightly again and rubbed at his forehead and stepped back "I'm sorry. I'd talk more at length but... things are in flux. I will answer any questions tomorrow, after the ceremony. Wear something simple. " he was already on his way out than, but than a Spymaster didn't have to explain everything to one of his subordinates, not in the long run, stopping slowly. "Right.." god, he had almost forgotten how to be an instructor. The inkling of guilt weighed heavily on her mind, and he saw it plain as day. He put a hand on the doorway and turned. "What you feel right now. Uncertainity and guilt. Hold to it. In your worst moments you will have to cling to it. It's what keeps you from believing yourself from surrounded by evil and it's what prevents you from becoming... a monster. That you made this painless for him... that was a kindness. Believe me Nairne.. you did him a kindness, even if it's hard to see." and at that, he slipped away.

[Before the play last night]

[nairneadair]

"... To those of you who remain... you have my thanks.. and the gratitude of your country. In the times that follow... I should hope that will provide you some measure of comfort."
-Sir Alendral Sorschal

Why then tonight let us assay our plot

Claramae: It was a capital day where in the weather was a favored Scottish balm; the stuff of Highland romances and mist shrouded stories of the unexplained caressing streaks of spring sun daring to break the visage. An ambient day, where in things would come together in ways both subtle and somewhat chaotic. To say that this was expected was to lie, but one was trained to prepare for the unlikely. Two women on horseback looked unsuspicious enough, both of gloved hands and good cloaks, though it was one who rode full astride while the other elected to follow, at a canter's pace, side saddle as Ladies of quality are told to do. Save that there were hardly saddles allowing women the advantage of being merely sideways, led placid where she controlled both tempo and maneuver. It was an incline coming from the district edge where the Ebony Halls were housed and more of a trevail that thought to follow Master Voltaire's path of wagon. He was an excellent cover. People knew the sight of death when they saw it: A man in what seemed rough spun clothes, hunched over horse reigns as the slow roll of the flat bed wagon bumped along the stones. The covers atop hardly concealed the shape beneath: A woman, a young child, and a babe. "Christ be merciful n' Mary pray. What dae ye suppose 'appened." Usual talks of sickness or brigandry faded with the invitation to continue the day luring people away. It had rained earlier, which found another man.

Kendrew: Rather sodden where others may have been dry. He may have taken his leave of the front lines but duty within the city did not mean eternal comforts. Accustomed to higher ground, Kendrew found parts of the lowest hovels in need of the Duke's love of revival. Up to his knees he was soaked in water from stagnant puddles and lord knew what else, all to aid the baliff in arrests for the men of law were short as they became men of arms. Leaning over, he looked up, bent at his knees as the wagon passed by offering to cross himself as those of faith did at such sights. Right now, he prayed that God would open up the clouds a little more. For all he knew, the turn of a good breeze would end with a cloud torn seem that soaked him. "Fook it all, man. Soaked n' water and piss, nay better than front line snow. But we've caught 'im, won't survive long afore he's hung and rid of." A no name criminal with a common crime. Unknowing that what was in the cart was not a common crime, and that his path was crossing it. Others might as well, for that was the way of things when those along the strings were not common people.

Alendral: The new player that had entered the game had accelerated all Alendral's plans, though he mourned it's rushing. There was no more dalliance to be had, no more time to be taken, since all pieces had been moved in place, and if not soon moved would result in a failure before they even started. The notes that the various Noviates and affiliates was short and to the point: It contained directions to the hall and a time to arrive at, with the emblem of a single talon wrought in black ink. Though there was no demand met, its importance was, as he expected, easily understood. For the few who visited the Hall, however, whatever expectations they had of the place of Cloak and dagger might be shattered: The directions would lead them to an elegant hall befitting of the richest nobility or mechantmen, an opulent testament to the wealth of a trader country. Servants greeted them at the door, bowing soundlessly and leading them down the halls touched with subtle Grecian flair to a grand mirrored ballroom, wrought in subtle Grecian flair, the polished, reflectively hallways reflecting ambient light and giving a near dazzling quality, whilst a few servents quietly offered refreshment and other matters. Indeed, it would be easy to think themselves mislead. for now, the Illusionist made no appearance, merely content to let the others mingle--though the place was more than simply Courtesans of the Lily! others milled about, men and women from various walks of life, nervously mingling with one another, about six in all.

Vance: And as for the right hand of the Illusionist? It just so happened he had found his chosen messanger, letting a grim smile cross a rugged face as he slipped up and cleared his throat briefly--must have been quite a sight, a man who resembled a brigand strolling up to a pair of Riders posing as the guard."S'cuse me, Lord Kendrew. " he said in rough, duclet tones. "Lord Sorschal be requestin' your presence at the location, called the matter of utmost importance--sends his apologies for the short notice, but, I'm afraid it's the only kind we got on hand at the moment. " he flashed a terrible grin and tipped his hat before making his way back most hastily--didn't want to miss the party, after all..

Chantal Days passed second by second, seemingly its only purpose to drive one insane, as Chantal waited for some kind of word. She kept about her normal behavior, or tried to, as to not alarm her children and spent much time with baby Isadora as a way to distract herself. In her mind though she cursed Mikhail's soul to the darkest recesses of Hell. It wasn't until a letter came requesting her presence that Chantal felt some measure of curiousity that mingled with fear. Dressing in her simplest gown, a blue so dark it was nearly black, with a cloak of gray to shield her from the cold, she made her way along the streets to the instructed destination. Only one person was with her, just as covered as she, for protection and that was Owena.

Kendrew: He wasn't in the finest mood. He was in his finest close - indeed there was little fine about a titled man who resembled the ones he'd helped to take to the justice of the Griffin. A vagabond, a pauper prince of noble intentions given an invitation to a ball that no matter what turned to coach for him, he was loathed to attend. "Ye will pardon me keepin' Master Sorschal waiting. As it is, do nay think a man wants to smell another comin' at fifty paces away. Let me to find attire tha' is nay wet ridden or awful in stench and I will take up his kind offer." He canted his head, the words on a low drone. Try as the two men might, Sorschal and Campbell were about as well joined as oil and water. No matter how they tried to find opinion, or even to work, each crossed the others path the wrong way by simply doing the duty set out to him. Then there was a bias that he did his best to ursurp with a better opinion, but fact was fact: Kendrew loathed this sort of thing: spies so duplicitious that he couldn't tell them apart from others. God help him, if they had infiltrated his own men without warning he would be a raging bull. Both of them took to the matters of Turas Lan from such different angles that a clash was almost expected. Sorschal had made no mind to see what he had done in the passages as good nor did he see Sorschal as anything but a man sitting on his hands for so long his fingers were up his ass. Mingle that with stagnant water soaked pants and an upcoming appointment with fate, and for once the placid Lowlander was close to Highlander's ferocious temper. Still, he did well, canting his head and turning toward one of the baracks along the wall to find something decent..and to keep himself from cursing.

Ursula: The notice came and who was Ursula to deny the call? She hadn't in the past and she was not about to stop now. Despite the incident that had left her left side stitched, that was no reason to be lazy. Doning a buttercream yellow gown and headed out to the Ebony Hall. It was not unknown to her, having visited once before and knowing only a small grain of its secrets curtesy of Alendral Sorschal, she was rather looking forward to what it was that had them calling her there again? Was there fear? Not at all, the apparently soft skinned courtesan had learned to harden herself, made more workable by the demise of a certain character of her past. As she was leasd once more into the mirrored hall by one of the servants, she had to grin, if quietly to herself as she moved about the room in a slow dance of grace and pose. Using the right tilt of her head and shift of her eyes to catch the mirrors and the actions of those mingling within the room. But where was Alen? He could not hide in the room, at least presently in the room she knew. Was he hiding within one of the many tunnels behind the mirror? Her hand strayed to her lips, a common trait she could not rid herself of, touching her lips when she was deep in thought.

Vance: Eventually the veritible Rogue would make his return in, managing to look suitably unique even among the others, but rather unlike him, the man seemed delighted to make an impression. Striding in rather purposefully and making a cut for the center of the room, the ruffian snapped up a chair in smooth motion and flipped it about, straddling it with some kind of vested interst and pulling off the wider brimmed hat with a subtly bemused expression. The noisy, and rather tactless appearance earned him a few looks from others, but he seemed to pay them no mind. A glance was passed at the doorway, looking for the familiar face of his charge for the time, or at least one of the folk he's been eyeing--but none had arrived yet, well, none except one. Right on time. Wonderful. Ursula got a long, lingering look that made no attempt to hide his disapproval, putting his eyes forward again and sighing impatiently. Snapping up a drink (that wasn't his) from a passing by servent and downing half it in a smooth gesture.

Nairne It was at the Lily that another received a similiar letter arrived though more mysteriously signed. Nairne's indigo gaze moved over the vague wording and paused upon the signature scrawled at the bottom. It read simply: Your Teacher. Folding the letter back up slowly, after memorizing the location on, Nairne wandered over to the fire lit in her room and toss the paper onto it. Only did her gaze turn away once the flames had devoured it completely. A silk gown of mauve was chosen, skirts heavy to keep legs warm, and a black cloak. Nothing was done to draw attention to herself, only the usual so as to not make any eyes curious at the change, and she made her way into the streets. Eventually she found her way to the Hall though was at a loss once inside it.

Chantal: Leisurely steps, as if upon a casual walk, were taken as Chantal made her way along the streets. Though worry made palms sweat inside simple gloves there was no outward sign of it. Her face was calm and a smile even graced her lips. Idle chit-chat was made as gaze searched the streets for any unusual behavior. She caught herself always feeling quite paranoid since Claramae's visit. That woman had brought nightmares to life that had only been seen in her dreams. It was as they turned the corner that her blue eyes fell upon a wagon, a simple wagon and nothing unusual, yet stomach knotted. That gut feeling told her something was...not right...and Chantal's steps sped up just a little to follow it.

Kendrew: Kendrew could feel the eyes staring at the back of his skull as if to wish his brains to mush, but far be it from him to care if the messanger was cross that he did not respond, sodden and all. The barracks weren't far, nor were quarters he'd once kept there when he was still a man who was unwed, and terribly simple. Meager fair for an audience with grander persons, but the wool tunic he found would warm his legs, the breeches tight fitting to be an insulated skin. At want for an audience with a blade, at least the stubble he'd grown had been trimmed by scissors. His hair, pulled back in a thong of leather. Would the messanger await him in the street to see if he'd comply? "Notice wasn't tha' damn short. I can read." the knight muttered as for once the horse his squire had given him would prove faster than his own feet. Mounting, his riding path would take him past any posing guard with a bit of a jaunt to the giddy up. You see, amidst many things recieved was one of the odd invitations scrawled when wouldn't it have done better just to tell the man in person? He wasn't that damn unapproachable! He'd ride beyond people heading thus toward the destination but he didn't know..yet the look of one, no two. "Mmm...Ambassador, Lady Danae." Two women on horse back, the Greek highly respected, the other rightly disturbing.

Claramae: A wagon passing. A changed plan. Were that the Lady swore she would perhaps allow the base talk past her tongue but as it was Claramae did not event take the name of the Lord in vain. Slightly turned, she noticed that her charge was heading toward the Ebony Hall, not away. "Good day, Sir. It seems you catch us in a bit of business Please, call me lesser. From the service of negotiations I am presently abstaining." Alas. When one was killing or ceasing others from dying it ws hard to avail other services. Danae looked at Kendrew and turned to Claramae with eyes that said, He knows where in a single glance replied much to his chagrin. All Kendrew saw was one unflickering face to another. "We must it seems return the path we were riding against, are you heading thus? Do join us." Lovley invitation. Really. Join in following the dead bodies, the distraught women, and spy noviates to be. "Mind you a brisk pace? I noticed Master Voltaire is riding the wagon wit of haste." One woman, no strong arms. If one dead Rose wasn't enough, Chantal all but screamed kill me with wide china-plate eyes after a wagon heading towards lower roads. Danae found it all interesting as she'd specified earlier, well, at least they got in their morning constitutional.

Rosalind: The note, to be perfectly honest, had been dropped into the fire within five minutes of reading. She could afford the discovery of no further secrets. In that light, she took the instructions committed to memory, dispatched her following of guards loyal to her husband, and found the few that still held her in higher regard than most of Scotland. For some, the myth meant somewhat more than the rumors, and though departing from her chambers was no easy feat, it was managed. Veil shading her face, and in dark brocade to hide not only the signature off-beat gait, but the subtle blades buried within hidden pockets of stiff fabric, she made her way to the Ebony Hall, speaking to none as she went, and holding to the shadow. The Lady Inveryne no longer moved in the light, for it revealed too much of what had happened in previous days, and she no longer had explanations worthy of her physical appearances. Broad daylight or not, she had considerable talent for fading into the background when she desired. It was a particular trick of the most efficient courtiers, and it served her well lately.

Ursula: She caught Vance coming with the room and uncermonisially posing himself backwards with her chair. Well..the man was insufferable and this wasn't her place to correct him. She caught his gaze though, the disapproving look and merely grinned back like the cat who ate the canary. Nernernener, you can't dismiss me. Did she care he disapproved of her? Not one bit! Her eye turned, catching Narine and she snorted before returning to mingling the room.

Vance: Now there was an unexpected visitor. Wheels within wheels, Vance took notice of the new arrival with bemused interest, before shrugging his shoulders. He had long since gotten used to the fact that he had received on parts of the puzzle, not full, and it was fun enough to speculate. He drew quiet for now.

Alendral: So it would be to enter the Illusionist, who had seemed to simply materialize within the crowd--approaching from an angle clearly not the doorway, with the usual flair for the dramatic. Clad in black, save a single stab of crimson in the form of a pin attatched to his collar, the would-be-wonder smiled grimly whilst some of the more unsettled noviates stared at him puzzedly, wondering how they had managed to miss his echoed bootsteps, which seemed to resonate through the halls with each purposeful step. As so many of them were here at his request, they fell silent when they drew eyes to him, and he allowed himself an inward smile--he was forced to admit that the vairous hidden passageways were appropiately dramatic. In a smooth, fluid movement he had ascended a nearby chair, than again a table, apparently choosing a perch above them, a studious, level hard stare fixed on the crowd 'till they quieted completely. It was not the smiling, charming Magician few knew him as. There was a coldness to the gaze, a caculating edge. When the room finally settled, he spoke. "...Thank you all for coming. I apologize, for the lack of notice... but unfortunately, we have none to spare... If you are here, it means that you are trusted men and women of the kingdom, and so I tell you this. Welcome to the Ebony Hall. " he paused, momentairly, let the words sink in. "I have asked you here because Skye has need of many of you... as it needs soldier on the battlefield, it needs eyes in its court, and in its streets. There are enemies within as dangerous and terrible as without, and, if we are to remain unguarded than everyone who fights to this kingdom fights for naught..."

Danae: Danae would ride along beside the Lady St Laurence, as they had spent much of the day together. Already she was gievn a tour by Sorschel a few days prior, and Claramae had seen to cover the rest. Danae was pretty much filled in on just what her part in all of this was to be. She possessed the skills of a cunning hunter, she had the ability to and knowledge of weapons already, and she now learned that in them chosing her, they believed she had the mind set that would be needed for such a position as the one she was now holding. The copper skinned woman would keep her eyes forward once passing all others that she and Claramae had already addressed in whatever manner was necessasary. The Greek continued to steer her black Friesain beast forward, saying nothing more than what was needed or asked. With her of course, she had a few of her friends, as always. The woman never went anywhere without at least one. As a woman, a Commander of Skye and now part of the main trio... there were many reasons for her to be a chosen target. One needed to be prepared as much as possible, even if caught off by gaurd.

Voltaire: Maxamillion Voltaire - it was late for an introduction but one was better than never. The shadow to his Lady's substance, he had been in the employ of Claramae for an unprescribed number of years as mysterious as her actual age. No more than a mere under-taker at present, along the winding road to a side gating between buildings he at last turned to regard those following him. To say the least if water were under his feet it would have stopped at the elegant chill in his voice. "You were bid, Lady Rose, to move in the company of armed men. Your companion is hardly fitting." From silence to instant conversation, he came down on cat-like feet. One eye, looked at her, his patch absent, his hair would have to do. The thick grey scar hid a once perfect cerulean eye. The other looking between the two women as before she could protest he steppe to the side, offering her passage forward to follow the morbid wagon going what appeared as a widening alleyway.Were her eyes deciving her? Had she gone that mad in the space of days. "Come, there is a business to conclude. Unpleasent, and for that I am sorry." He expressed a genuine condolence wihle it sounded as though she couldn't help but to follow. "and hurry. You attract to much attention, the both of you. You do not follow instruction well and that will do you no good."

Claramae: "Ah, Master Voltaire has the situation in hand, come, our way will involve less presentation. Come now, Sir Campbell, do not stare so hard lest you cross your eyes." Just how did you enter the Ebony Halls? Why through the front door, naturally. She turned her horse over toward the stable boy only to be met by a rather pure specimen of maidenhood. To Danae and Kendrew, she certainly appeared an odd addition to the ranks: A simple lavendar dress, a high, tied neckline thar revealed nary a trace. Sleeves cut past the wrist that covered to half palm, and no peek-a-boo of even a shoe. Her eyes were adjusted to suitable lower before her betters as she struck a rather country bob of curtsy.

Viscreed: "He has already begun to talk, M'ladies, My lord. Shall I show you in by way where you can slip in?"

Claramae: Business certain did cross other business in Turas Lan! Ah well. Turning to Danae she said, "We turn home only to find we arrive late to tea. Ah well. Oh yes, Lady Ranger, Sir Campbell, this is Miss Viscreed."

Viscreed: Oh and mercy! She was introduced to important persons ...what was the way! She could all but bob her head and give the country bumpkin bob. In a sea of well clad sharks, Janice would be the monk fish about to be devoured. One of the oddest acquisitions when you considered she had just come out of a convent for pity's sake. Clad like a school-girl in the abbey, as God fearing as a nun, her talent would be an interesting one but at present her place was weaving in the trio who'd come over the front door. Looking this way and that with great ceremony (discretion. Still being learned, forgive her). She pulled back a piece of a portrait frame and followed on the hells of them that entered. What fascinating people! The man with them was as tall as a mountain! Glory be, and the Greek woman was like the golden brown on crispy bread! (she still wondered how many people were Moor's, of course all brown people must be moor's, but were'nt of course) and then there was Claramae, whom she couldn't figure why had taken to patroning her so! "There mam." She canted her head, pleased to find it was so little a movement that Claramae nodded in approval! Oh stars, she'd faint right there......if it were'nt for the fact that she ws expected to listen to this all too.

Kendrew: "I need a drink."

Claramae: "Of course, Sir Campbell, but do let us listen first, tis paramount."

Rosalind: No matter her wishes, Rosalind was ever the perfect lady. If greeted, the woman who resembled more the ghost of Griffin Castle than living lady inclined her veiled head politely. To a superior, she gave a curtsey. Yet, meeting no other since arriving at the Hall, she was hardly impeded by introductions. Lately, she was grateful for such small blessings. Her Lamont guards waited, though they could not go far from their lady, on pain of death. Rosalind took a few steps forward, to better feel she had her leave of them, and flicked the edge of her veil aside, for in the shadow, it was difficult to see through the Moorish silk. When the Magician spoke, Rosalind was not engaged in other conversation; so it took little effort to turn her attention to his words.

AIendral: Alendral leveled his gaze, albeit briefly, deciding he now sufficently had their attention if nothing else. "...I won't lie to any of you. I know the threats at our country's doorstep. I've seen what they are capable of first hand. If you fear you lack the heart to do what I ask, if you worry that what I ask of you, however ignoble, will serve only the greedy and the powerful... know this. While they lurk, no one is safe. Every single man, woman and child --every innocent life is a mere tool, to sow the seeds of fear, of terror... there is no boundry they will not cross, no honor they will obey. These men, these... animals, have seen Kings undone, leaving a trail of blood in their wake... and believe me when I tell you, their eyes are now upon us. We can not let this pass. We will not let this pass. They strike because they believe Skye has no defense to serve them--that for all the swords and arrows, that Skye is for the taking... we can not, must not, allow them their victory... It will be difficult, I promise you that. You will look into the eyes of loathsome creature and supplicate them with honeyed words. You will find yourself alone in a sea of enemies. There will be trials... yes. but if you have any love, any loyalty for your country, or the people in it, you will, just as the soldier sets aside the fear of his own death, shoulder your fear and become what Skye needs to serve them... not for glory, not for honor, not for songs to be sung in your name and praise to be lavished for your deeds, but for your love of countrymen and country alone... " he paused again. "...I can not force any of you to take this path. Rest assured, in time I will ask you to do what your own conscience balks at, what your sense of honor refuses. You will face a danger few know..and fewer still will know of your accomplishments when you perish. I can offer you no glory in that. But I ask you, all the same. Become the Black Order, serve our Duchess and Duke, protect them from all evils, within and without... and secure its future, as an unseen hand..." He stopped than, and waited. Some stepped forward, Vance among them, smirking gently. Some didn't. They passed conflicted looks and made to leave, heads lowered. To his credit, his face held no judgement when they left.

Danae: Once reaching the stables, the Ranger dismounted in a single, fluid and graceful move. Well balancedshe was and even when the feet of the woman touched the ground, there was hardly a sound made. Majesty was seen to and she cast a glance toward Kendrew. She must of had a pretty good idea what the man might have been thinking given the look on his face. She smirked, a hand came to clasp his shoulder and gave it something of a squeeze and subtle shake. Once the hand fell she followed where Claramae lead, nodding at the womans words. At introductions, Danae would give a single curt nod as nothing was said in following it. As they moved in and joined the others, her eyes did a slow, steady scan of quite a few familiar faces. Some who she could have gone without seeing a little while longer no doubt but everyone was here for a reason, and that was to take part in defending what you loved. For some, it was friends, others... family , even more still... it was the lands and those that governed it. For Danae however, it was all those things and more. As Sorschal continued on with his speech, Danae's stance was much like that of a soilder at ease. Hands clasped behind her back, feet at shoulders width apart , and chin slightly lifted. Her stature and muscles however were a bit more relaxed. Her eyes had come to settle on the man and listened very carefully to each and he spoke.

Nairne: Finding the way after entering the Ebony Hall was not as hard as estimated. Not to insult, but apparently as she was expected there was someone to show her the way. Eventually Nairne found herself in a crowded room and standing a bit tense as eyes took in each face. It was a familiar voice that drew indigo eyes away from their perusal to the man speaking quite clearly now for all present. A few steps forward before coming to a pause, to get a clear view, as hands clasped at waist and she listened closely. Nairne was not one of those to leave. She had dealt with all her doubts, though they still lingered, and knew she'd go through with this. For Skye.

Chantal: An obvious target though unaware, Chantal followed the wagon. Owena scanned the streets for any sign of danger though suspected that with these types she might not be equipped to protect her Lady. It was a man turning that brought Chantal to a halt, eyes going from him to the wagon dissappearing down...a most unusual alley. Owena's back straightened, as she stepped in front of Chantal, but it was that woman's hand that pushed her aside. His words brought a sense of dread that had a fair pace going extremely pale,"Wha-" Stopping, realizing that here was not the place, she motioned for Owena to come and both slipped inside quietly. Hands ringing, she glanced around, though unable to focus on much.

Kendrew: I need a drink. Hard. Stiff. N' to ask what the 'ell am I doing here. That was the Lord Guardian's excact thought that went with nary a word said as he stood amidst the crowd. In a heartbeat's word it thinned, and with it for a moment he felt the weight of what was asked of them, scurrying off to never wish to recollect for a single day. Or would they wonder always of the life that might have been? The Spymaster had a tongue on him that was for sure. Silver slick. Quick as a fox. He listened with no fantastic amount of commitment for his posistion was visible, and maybe that was why as some slinked out the door they wondered why he was there. One even glared at him, "Oh the famous Sir Kendrew. Bah. Horseshyte." Famous? He hadn't come to be met with strange anomocity but he remained in his place. He kept his place.

Voltaire: "Oh come now. All you could do my dear is die some poetic death. Next time, you will take armed men with you. I will provide them to you, myself." Owena wasn't going to like Voltaire very much, but not many did. The Household of St. Laurence had the effect of appearing holier-than-thou know it alls. They were just precise, blunt, and a little more eloquent than the average. Wringing hands. Pale faces. It gave some sort of purpose to the day because he was growing restless. Wouldn't have known it by the way he disembarked the wagon. Once it was pulled into place the particulars weren't hidden. He pulled back the sheets on the bodies that revealed a gruesome display made more so for preservation had not ceased them from bloating. Blood ridden sockets where eyes ought to be in mother, young child, and even the infant. Jagged slit throats, broken necks, and stab wounds all of which he expected both women not to scream at because he didn't fancy Claramae would be pleased if he had to knock out their charges. Still, he wasn't without empathy as he turned his head just so to give reaction a private place.

Kendrew: Kendrew had only to turn his head to the left and notice the Lady Avalle. Now he was lit anew with an anger though, was she as naieve as....no. Somehow it didn't seem to entirely fit, though with all that was going on how did she manage to find her way here? Danae stood beside a man who in the silence the crowd took for the magician's rousing speech was becoming livid. No outward signs of trembling or crackling fist of a man who wanted to start a fight because that was not his way- though good lord, what did he and the magician possibly have to talk about other than how they were going to be thorns in one another's, even more so now than ever?

Claramae: "Pardon." Claramae muttered, only to seem as if she never stood with them to begin with. Like a flash of light, the essence of reflection she passed over surface leaving no lasting trace for no looked at the cast off images of a shadow, a gust of air. Nay, it wasn't even felt as she watched each of Nairne's reactions to gauge just how willing a pupil she would be. Talk of mixed emotions suited her not; commitment must be in utter abseloute though she already found things to be worked on. Did she recall the note, or seek to find the writer? Not a single glance had she made sidelong or otherwise. A veil on Rosalind didn't stir her to seek if it were some garish theatric. Oh noshe was held spellbound by Alendral's stirring oratory while she passed unseen until she ended up somewhere to the back of Nairne, unto the side of Rosalind. It was strange to ask how a woman standing behind another could make another listen while hardly seeming to move her mouth. Claramae had a rather disturbing talent among many: speaking stone faced. "You are listening very hard, so one would hope you have taken in all of what he has said. I will expect nothing but your commitment. Once given, there is no turning back. Do not turn back now, I shall come to the side of you, forthwith. One thing we must rectify is recognition of presence. You would have been dead, young lady in no less than ten angles. Poison knowledge will do you little good if you die before it is expanded now will it?"

Rosalind: There was a fatalistic determination that kept the spine rigid and the line of her mouth firm. She did not leave. If she lived through the week, she would have much to be grateful to her country for. There really was no more desirable alternative than to take this opportunity, whatever such an opportunity it would be. As Claramae approached, she gave a slight nod of her head. She wore a veil to chapel; it really was not so strange to her that she acted in any way out of the ordinary. Rosalind had always been piously observant of modesty. It was tragic that it suited her circumstances now that no more than the oval of her face and half an inch of neck was exposed.

Alendral: Less then he had hoped, but it would have to do. Alen gave everyone long time to consider it, before stepping off the table in smooth gesture, landing carefully. Ursula, Nairne, the woman Rosalind. a few others. "... To those of you who remain... you have my thanks.. and the gratitude of your country. In the times that follow... I should hope that will provide you some measure of comfort." He gestured then to the rugged man who was still seated, looking faintly idle in the face of it all. "This is my right hand, Vance Evans. " He moved in turn, to the strange, country bumpkin of a girl. "Janice Olivia, an information gatherer and facilitator. You will become familiar with her. My second in command, Claramae St. Laurence. A better spy you will never meet." in smooth gesture he gestured to the veiled woman. "Madam Rosalind Du Beauquesne will educate some of you to better conduct yourselves in the halls of the court, and will serve to educate you in a manner befitting most nobility. Consequently, she is also here to learn." he smiled thinly at that. "To those that need it, personal quarters will be assigned, merely discuss the matter with Vance in my abscence. We shall meet again when the sun falls tomorrow. With each day I expect you to demonstrate that have you progressed. Tonight you have a very simple one... learn one secret of the house. Good night. " He slipped from the crowd, with some passing some very strange looks admist each other. Nodding a greeting, he'd pass by Rosalind with something of a thin smile. "You and I should speak soon." Nice and to the point. He'd heard only bits about her, having only met her ever so briefly. He wondered if she found it jarring, seeing as last they met he was a playful entertainer dead set on making Annulia smile. With that he laid his eyes on Kendrew and crossed the room to him, crossing arms over his chest. "And you and I... need to speak now. Follow me."

Danae: Danae held her stance, listening all the while and looking to vance when Sorschal introduced him to the others. She had already had the pleasure of meeting the man up close and personal. Once Sorschal was done, she glanced about the room. Watching as several would pair up, began to speak and introduce themsevles to one another. The tall Greek woman would look to Claramae, eyes cutting to Sorschal as he came to Kendrew who stood close by to her. Spoke and began to walk so that the men could speak. A brow arched as she looked to Claramae but nothing was asked, for it wasn't her place to and had she needed to know what that was all about, she was sure she would have been included. Instead, Danae debated on walking over and speaking with Vance a moment, though she'd linger in her spot just in case someone else wish to talk with her. If not, then she'd move toward the man that was Sorschal's second.

Nairne: That was a trait most fascinating to learn and Nairne had it down somewhat. Yet she was able to speak as if talking a matter completely different than what was being said. Yet she was hear to learn and what she already knew would likely be somewhat useless. This was not dealing potions in alleyways or crowded markets. It was much more and to be focused on solely. "I did not consider that, teacher is it?" An assumption though likely the right one. "I was concerned that if I made myself too unrecognizable I might...slip up. Or if I was noticed draw more suspicion." Falling silent, though her words had barely been more than a whisper, she listened to the rest of Alendral's speech. There really was not more to be said to Claramae's statements. Nairne was committed wholeheartedly to this now.

Chantal: Hysterics. Most women were skilled in such nonsense. Some it came naturally and others were actually trained in it as children. Chantal had never been one for it. It drove her insane. She had slapped a few women for behaving in such a ridiculous manner. Even as that sheet was drawn back to reveal bloated forms, each atrocity taken in by widening blue eyes, no scream escaped her throat. One trembling hand rose to cover mouth, stomach churning, as tears of sorrow slid down cheeks so pale one would under if she were sick. Owena gave a grunt, stepped close, and gently patted Chantal's back. After a moment she finally managed to force words,"Wh-who...wha-what..." Though the thoughts could not be strung together into appropriate sentences.

Voltaire: The bodies were rather hard to make look less terrible given the mangled deaths and attempting to find the coldest rooms in the lower foundations to keep them from decay. "The Lady will tell you of the details, madame. I, on the other hand, have an appointment with your household. The passage there.." He pointed, then to stares. "Go that way, it will take you to where you should be. Should you grow lost, merely ask a servant 'St. Laurence?' and you shall find the way." He bowed, that sightless eye revealing jagged scars -- they all paid a price of admission to play the Game.

Claramae: "Laurence. Lady St. Laurence, Master Laurence, either of these are suitable." In the absence of Sorschal her mouth began to move as she came forward. "We will keep quite a bit of company, so it will serve you well to complete your first task,given this shall become an integral part of the work we are to embark upon. Movement is key, your eyes, must be trained to do the same." A slight twiist sideways put one lady towards another. "Lady Avalle, it is an unexpected pleasure to see you among us. We shall be as associates now, it seems, in the ccupation of education." It would suffice to say that this brand of spy underwent a social rigor knowing when to place their hands in the wash water at supper,whom to bow to, and what to address them as. She offered her a curtsy, fluid, but her back was so ram-rod straight that one wondered if in her girlhood someone didn't strap her to a board. As Kendrew went off with Sorschal, conversation would be had of "This will surely be Sorschal more pleasent interlude of the day. Both he and Kendrew together bode not well at all....Miss Viscreed..."

Viscreed: "Yes, Master Laurence?"

Claramae: "Will you employ your talent to a slightly lesser cause, and seek out a bottle of aged brandy? Very..aged, quite mellowing."

Viscreed: The girl was just that. A girl. Janice was barely cresting the rise of 18 as she seemed to put together the path to the requisite brandy in her mind before dipping rather quickly and popping up again.

Claramae: "Slower dear girl, slower.."

Viscreed: "Yes, I'm sorry Master Laurence I will get it right!" But one thing she never failed in was tracking down what she was asked.

Claramae: "Miss Viscreed, Lady Avalle, will benefit quite well from your instruction.Alas, we can not continue our own private interludes given the body of work to complete. She is rather unpolished, but should you have a need of something, but ask. She has a keen talent we put to work tracking our materials."

Rosalind: Ah, then he had not heard much, for the man she was bound to was such a creature as to wear a charming mask during the day, and become another creature entirely in private. She was quite used to those she met revealing unexpected facets. Serious, dangerous, a combination thereof, or of something else entirely, she had likely seen it all, and had a pleasant response to it all. "Indeed, Master Sorschal, I look forward to it." And then she turned to the Lady Claramae, inclining her head once more in polite greeting, though it was a superfluous gesture. "Well, I always tend to err on the side of cheerful, generally being not so argumentative a soul as most." Yes, practically the voice of reason was the deadpan Norman lady. "I would delight in offering instruction. I admit I have much to learn myself, but what knowledge I have gained is easily shared, non? If the mind is willing, I have no doubt we shall progress swiftly." She smiled at last. "Forgive me. I hope it will be understood that my domestic obligations require merely a short visit to the cathedral today? May we meet again soon." She curtsied with a dancer's grace. Despite her twisted leg, dancing had been her happiest sport in court, and she retained the elegance in most movements. She departed after leave was given, collected her men, and hurried back home.

Danae: And it was here when Danae would slowly move through the crowd, taking the time to introduce herself to others before moving on to the next and quietly working her way to Vance. The two would began to talk, carefully walking about aimlessly until they disappeared. A servant of course would go to both Lady St Laurence and Sorschal, informing both of just where the Ranger had gone. Perhaps she went to explore more of the Hall, perhaps she went to retire for the eve, only those that were to know, would.

Nairne: A voice of experience and a voice of reason. Both women were taken in quietly by Nairne. She wanted to pass tonight's little test, but was unsure of how. Part of her was nervous. Would they be expected to stay her this evening? What of the other evenings? Hopefully something would be arranged as an excuse for why Nairne was not at the Lily if so. Curtsying to Lady Avalle as she departed, Nairne then turned to Lady St. Laurence,"If you will excuse me, m'lady, I am going to explore a bit. I do have a test to pass." An amused smile at that, as she'd already passed one or so she'd thought when gaining Alendral a look at Nathan's book. Gracefully she left the room to explore.

Chantal: Follow the passages, ask for 'St. Laurence' if you get lost, and that was the words that flowed through Chantal's mind as she walked at a brisk pace in silence. Even Owena remained unusually quiet at her side. Chantal was trembling, tears of pain streaming down her cheeks, yet she did not make a noise. In a way it was learned from her marriage to Mikhail. Most nights she cried while he slept next to him. If he'd caught her the punishment would have been harsh and so she adapted. Now, as they finally located the room that held Lady St. Laurence, Chantal swallowed hard and released a trembling breath. Even in such clear pain she managed a curtsy upon approaching the woman,"Good evening, m'lady."

Claramae: "Good night, Lady Avalle,Miss Adaire, until after the sun descends." It was like a dance. One woman, another, then the last lowering until Chantal was the final one to pay respect to social custom. How elegant, these spies. How refined for being merchants of untimely death and masters of esbionage. In the absence of others, "business" was handled by turning to face a tear streaked woman whom still won the respect of her guardian by not shattering into pieces. If that had happened, Voltaire would have put her under by now. "Good evening, Lady Rose. By now Master Voltaire will have performed his duty to task. For what it entailed, I am quite sorry." Te woman whom severed a man's hand was sorry for a few sliced throats. The exchange between commited act and prevent of another still left room to ponder just how Madame processed death. Looking over to her companion, then back to her, she also concluded. "He has set off to your household to give you retainers as well, if not to investigate them." Household infilitration was an old tactic, but it never went out of style. "Please, allow me take you to a parlor where you might sit."

Chantal: Shattering into pieces was not something Chantal allowed to occur anymore. Even when children were missing she had not. Her only moment of crumbling had been when encountering Mikhail in the market place and only then due to her condition at that time. Though some would perceive her as weak there was strength in her that none would ever understand. What she had been through, from childhood to adulthood, had forced her to change. To be weak was to invite death. Chantal was a survivor though and always had been. Owena stood silent next to her, wishing to offer comfort and knowing it wouldn't be welcomed at this moment. Chantal had a heart, but knew that it had to be sealed off for now. A handkerchief was taken into shaking gloved hand, used to mop at her face, as she nodded,"I would much like that." She would follow the woman, asking curiously,"Did they...suffer long?" An odd question perhaps.

Claramae: It was a reason of good capital listing why Claramae held her ward in high regard. Most women would have fallen to pieces at the displays, and this world Chantal found herself forced in was neither kind nor lovely. It was filled with falsehood, illusion, and individuals so twisted as to make every childhood tale of Satan pale by comparison. In silence, the way was set through sumptiously furnished rooms to one where the amount of chairs equaled the amount of people. A good, strong wine was called for, times two. Claramae did not indulge often (if ever) and did not even take water. At the rate at which she stood or breathed, one wondered if the woman lived on her pulse alone. Now to the question. It was a question asked in grief. "Yes," she said with an exactness that would no doubt frustrated Owena. "The death was by no means instant. It was meant for them to suffer. This is difficult for you, but you must consider a possiblity: Why in God's holy name would your chosen man move so slow that a snail could have bested him to Potree? It took not but a truly solid days ride, two, at the best, and a nother two to come back should have placed your family in your care, not on a cart."

Chantal: Wine was sounding quite pleasant. Chantal was not one to drink liberally of it though at this moment she could use it. Once the glasses were brought Chantal would lift one into both hands and take a liberal drink before even being able to respond. Lowering it, hands finally not shaking now, only her voice betrayed the pain inside,"I thought I had seen horrors in my years. Yet none can rival that..." Shaking her head, golden-blonde curls swaying about her cheeks, she whispered,"...Keita was still only a babe..." Yet, it was Claramae's question that had blue eyes showing a glint of steel in their depths. "You can blame any of the other men that Seamus chose to take with him. Do not, however, blame him. He has been loyal to me since I returned home. This...he would not do this..."

Claramae: "I am not familiar with your household in its entirity by name, only by face and purpose, therefore all are suspect. Even a small retinue of men should have made the journey far easier. Your defense of him is admiral, but surely you are not so clouded by grief that you do not think, Lady Rose, and I need you to do this now. Think to any who have not seemed themselves, or even over attentive, anxious to plase. Think of places gone lax in normalcy about you. Now is not the time for defense but prudent thought. It is obvious the killer acted alone in the actual act, but accomplishing it? I am loathed to believe it was not given without some bit of help." She could defend Seamus, or even Orwena, but all of them were suspect until each was cleared by process of elimination. Claramae would deduce what she liked and while Chantal's eyes steeled, Claramae's did nothing out of the ordinary.

Chantal: Chantal could not honestly name any. She had been closed off from most of her household while on bed rest. Aside from Seamus and Owena, and the maid Ellie, she had not seen any others. Knowing that what Claramae spoke was true- she fell quiet and stared thoughtfully into her wine. Yet it was not Chantal who answered the question on all minds. Owena's gruff voice spoke up,"Kade." When Chantal tensed, blue eyes lifting to stare at her companion, Owena continued onward,"Kade was a friend of Seamus's and sent to warn us about the attack Mikhail was planning. He, of course, came too late and...we never found the children. We learned later Mikhail failed and the wolves chased them to Red Wall." Pausing now, she waved her hand as if to brush that off, and Chantal waited impatiently for her to continue,"I noticed a change in him not too long ago. I thought nothing of it though with the all that is occurring in Skye. Kade, Lady St. Laurence, has family here. I have not heard him speak of them..." Now Owena fell silent and Chantal's horror-stricken gaze went back to Claramae,"Do you think he...."

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

"I highly doubt that Miss Adair will be late for a lesson, her professionalism is important"

In Order to Assay a Plot, You Need The Tools My Dear

Claramae: Perchance the idea of a public soiree for two was the thing that would give a sense of balance to the worlds in which the two women kept. Claramae wanted to see how Nairne could be among the public after speaking with her, and with the knowledge that an elitist was watching. At a table perched on the Inn's second level, the private curtains of her area were pulled back to afford her a view of the commons below. Gleaming wood floors, the soft allure of covered lamps and fire highlighted the owner's exquisite taste in softening a weary worn heart. In fact, the lighting was so perfect that the ambiance had the effect of softening the aura of a beauty, dulling the clarity of eyes. "Soon,Master Voltaire. I highly doubt that Miss Adair will be late for a lesson, her professionalism is important." The one good thing of courtesans is they knew how to keep appointments to please the benefactor crossing palm with coin.Rest assured that the Lady had not stooped so low as to portray a hungry man intent on finding a mistress. A letter had been written, sealed, and sent to the Lily so that one flower might come out of doors to bloom in another pot (d)

Nairne Late was not a word found in Nairne's vocabulary. After receiving the letter a blue-gray gown with heavy skirts and longsleeves was chosen. It had gold trim about the square neckline, cuffs of sleeves, and the bottom of the skirts. A simple cloak of a deeper blue than that of the gown was chosen and she headed out. One slippered foot stepped inside the inn just on time. White gloved hands lifted to lower the hood, revealing sable curls done up artfully and held secure by pins, as indigo eyes searched the room for the one who'd summoned her. (d)

Claramae: "Ah, there she walks, Master Voltaire. Hath she not the fatal gist of beauty?" Ever silent, he smiled beneath the brim of the hat that swallowed his face in black darker than the vestments he wore to accompany the little party
that sat conspiring over deadly means. He moved below the staircase to accept the hand of the woman who knew not that one was extending toward her so that he might place it on his arm. "Mistress Adair, Good eve. My Lady awaits you. ." In contrast to the man-servant's darkness was a liquid baritone strangely pleasant. The paradox of his voice against his clothes was but another sign of the world that Nairne had conscripted to, and another higher yet. There were those that killed for the sport of it. Aye, there were others that took a life for money with no couth, weapons blundering. But the capability of weaponry that could infilitrate the human world, stand our or sink away? This was where they came in: She matched her escort, having chosen a gown of dark brocade where in the bodice, the inset of the sleeves phoenix red. The effect was the night falling toward fire. "Mistress Nairne, just on time." (d)

Rosalind: Her newfound freedom had been met with strange pangs of lost for a world she had known for nearly five years. For example, leaving the castle without sneaking past guards, bribing Lamonts, or hoping a letter had been tucked away behind a loose stone informing her of her son's daily activities. This hour, her pang of loss was realizing the hidden pocket in her dress no longer had a stiletto to fit within, and the handle that had taken years to wear to a smooth, buttery grip was somewhere she had no intention of ever returning in order to collect. She merely patted the empty place in her dress and sighed. It could be replaced, she supposed. Still, she was not entirely without escort, for the fate of her clan was not yet determined. Rosalind, dressed for propriety's sake back in deep mourning, but with a sash of tasteful crimson around her waist, decided to spend her first night of freedom exploring new places, and so she breezed through the doorway, stopping only briefly to remove her cloak, though the gloves remained. *

Claramae: As Nairne was settled at the table, Claramae leaned forward if only for the vantage point of seeing who was coming or going., what was being said or discarded in the world of the inne. Through the door came the instructor of : customs. How droll! Attire on each bore the same shades. The purpose of lesson could easily be conducted with a third, nor would it hurt to be specific with the pair. From above, Claramae nodded her head down to Rosalind to catch her eye. Greetings the face said as no words came out. Erstwhile, Voltaire had led Nairne to a chair, pulled it out for her, and offered to take her cloak (d)

Rosalind: Ladies did not usually frequent such establishments, which made for an interesting quandary of customs. Rosalind, however, merely took it all in stride, inclining her head politely with the smile that had returned to her lips the day before, and had yet to disappear. "My lady, it is a pleasure to see you here." And to the other woman, whom she recalled from the other night, but the name escaped. She placed an order for wine, and while waiting, casually observed the patrons already within. *

Claramae: "And you, my lady. Will you not sit with us? Please.." A roll of a flourishing hand's act offered up a spare chair within the private table. The drapery surrounding thus had been pulled back, some on the upper row were sealed for privacy. Besides, it would be a pity to hide three stars come down from the sky would it not? Voltaire awaited the summons to pull back a chair at her behest. "My Lady , Master Voltaire, my companion."(d)

Rosalind: "I will indeed, thank you." She sat neatly in the chair, though it was a slightly different story under the table, as she attempted to shift her injured leg into a comfortable position. Finally, she inclined her head to Master Voltaire*. "A pleasure to meet you, sir. I am Rosalind ... Avalle." Ever so slight a pause as she reverted back to a name she had not been permitted to use since she was but a girl in France. The wine arrived, the dark red contents shining like a jewel as they sloshed in the goblet. She accepted with her left hand, still gloved. Her right remained casually upon her lap. *

Rosalind: In the offering of drink from the hands of the tavern girl was but a wine mixture, tempered down with a natural portion of its own juice for the lady did not often indluge. "A pleasure, Lady Avalle." Voltaire spoke again, putting his fingers to the brim of his wide hat as he bowed. A moment's repose was a good way to begin the idle talk of greater things. "Welcome home, Lady Avalle," Claramae began, "They say it was quite an affair at the Castle MacRauri. How returns the court?" The effects of that evening might play on later events, so it was better to know from the eye witness than trust even the astute ear listening to others who had been present. Relgious extremist and ladies who held saints altars in their hands hardly made suitable sources of information unless one waited for Christ to walk on the walls at MacRauri castle and give a great speech. (d)

Nairne: The ease with which hand was suddenly placed on the arm of a man unbeknownst to her was enough to make Nairne's body tense. It became clear that harm was not intended when he spoke, his voice contrasting so to his garb, and thoughinwardly she was now curious her facial expression did not change. It remained calm and cool with a polite smile on lips. Escorted upstairs to a seat, she silently took it, nodding her head in thanks. Cloak was removed, followed by gloves, as she observed the interaction of Rosalind and Claramae. (d)

Rosalind: Rosalind was fortunately a bit more pragmatic than either of those options. She smiled wryly before tilting the contents of the glass of wine. "It was, very. There are bodies still to be recovered from the surrounding area, and though the party has since departed, the walls still burn. I have never seen a pitch fire before, and I hope never to again." She had not, actually, really seen it for herself as the others had, lit up in the darkness. She hadn't been present for a great deal of things that night, but that was neither here nor there. She did not know them well enough to put out the bold statement that her husband had died in the defense. He had been a popular figure until his untimely end, and she nothing but his dishonest wife. She rolled her shoulders slightly. "I wonder if Skye shall ever see such a party again...." *

Claramae: "A moment in history thus so passes. I have heard that the Pope himself will preside over the mass in memorium before announcing the day in which he shall bestow upon the Duke his new titles. A party akin to that? Oh, pitch fire not withstanding, their Graces reign over a rather wild foundling child, that while it is being brought up shall surely run aside of propriety a time or three more." Nothing was ever dull, which to the nation's credit actually amused the woman with ram-rod back and lifted head atop a swan's throat. "The Lenten season has ne'er been so...bold. What think you on the matter, Mistress Adair? These are the ways of our nation, our restored fledgling crown seeks to restore ancient right. What opinion hold you on the matter?" Nairne could order what she liked if it suited her, a drink, supper. Claramae was not interested in appraising morality if she drank of the extent of any vice or manners other than what went on beyond the artful coif of sable.(d)

Nairne: Wine. That was all that was requested. Nothing strong and tea was not suitable to her mood. As she listened to the discussion, having decided not to attend that party, she was fascinated to learn of events. Of course, she'd heard on tongues since. Yet they were unreliable to be sure. These women, on the other hand, she believed would speak more truthfully on matters. When opinion was asked, Nairne decided to pick her words quite carefully,"I think that such a decision is the proper one. The Duke and Duchess, and their heirs, are quite...capable. Look at how Skye manages. Though I do believe it does not mean the end of such troubles." Indeed, with good always came some measure of bad. One without the other was...unheard of. A balance, if you will. (d)

Rosalind: "No, I do not see the end of such troubles, as you say, my lady," she responded softly. "But this is the beginning of the end. The Highlanders will return to their lochs and braes and continue on as they have for a thousand years or more, fighting brother against brother and father against son, but it is in their nature to covet thy neighbor's kine. They have accepted, after some confusion, the Duke as sovereign, and with His Holiness's blessing, the fight is to be scattered, rather than focused. A wise decision it was, for the Bruce to establish a legacy based upon merit rather than croneyism." *

Uriel: *jingle* The sound was both familiar and deicate, and offensive to the ear all the same, as the hooded man had hoped to have slipped in and out as quietly as an evening breeze. So much for that fancy! Pausing a moment at the doorway cold, detatched-looking grey eyes peered out from beneath the overcast shadow of the hood, surveying the inhabitants for a brief spot in time before light footfalls brought him to the fireplace, first and foremost. He'd been on a long journey, and the welcome warmth of the hearth was the most appealing sight he'd seen in days. Warming himself some, he turned then towards the bar and it's keep, eyes fleeting upwards for a split second to the privately sectioned tables before back to their original sight. Walking to the counter, he did not remove his hood but one hand did reach within the folds of that cloak to clutch a rather full coinpurse, which was promptly set with the wonderously audible *clink* of coins within. "......Bottle of brandy, and a loaf of pumpernickle if you've any to spare."

Claramae: "The troubles of a monarch are as old as Time itself, those shan't end no matter the generation, but the scope at which these Highland men see will be as broad as His Grace's terrain. Soon, His Grace will pale by comparison. Be it by the title in the Gaelic he favors or by his own humility, His Higness is more fitting, if not His Majesty. A brae and loch ancient to be revered, but who will not cast an eye to Wales, to Ireland, as they themselves do to here? We live in a red-letter time. The Celts have taken back their lands.." A feat that history would look on with a strange mixture of admiration and fear that such terrors as heathenry, barbarism, and the downfall of the institution Norman manners on the world to English uplift would fall to pieces, but it did make their work all the more fascinating. It was then that she turned to Nairne and said, "So then, this would mean that you are of a place to ensure that our royal family remains precisely where they are. Mistress Adair, if I may ask, what skill of yours do you value most highly?" A pair of eyes gazed upward, and hers, to the side. The door opened with a merry jingle of the bell for a new visitor. (d)

Nairne: Sipping her wine quietly, she nodded her head, listening to both conversations. Indigo eyes moved to Claramae, ears picking up the doors bell, as she thought that over. What skill did she value highest? After a few moments sheplaced the glass on the table, hands still holding it,"Potion making. That would be it." No hesitation, no shame, just a simple statement. Nairne had learned it to survive and was quiteproud of herself. (d)

Rosalimd: "Potion making? Might I ask how you came by that skill?" Natural curiosity, and nothing more. Rosalind was fond of anyone with a unique skill. *

Claramae: "A useful thing indeed. I am told you excell in creation. what is your method of application?" She drank the wine, a classic objective. Food was another. But she knew this and surely a potion crafter did as well. But Nairne's mind could assay the obvious and by god, Ebony hall did not cater to the usual. (d)

Nairne: Ah, how she came by it. Nairne's lips curved just a little,"Necessity and the fateful meeting of an old crone." That was all she'd say on the matter. Apparently the woman had 'sensed' Nairne needed aid, that she was trapped in a dangerous situation, and so sought to aid her in escaping it. Being taught was the trickier part for there were many cases of trial and error. Those poor birds. Glass was raised to her lips and another sip taken. It was Claramae'squestion that made her gaze flicker to the woman's own wine glass first. Certain matters did not need to be spoken. "It depends on the potion. Sometimes a slightly dampened finger placed upon ones lips can do it." That was how she'd gotten poor Nathan. (d)

Rosalind: Knowledge of such things would have been useful. Rosalind's only knowledge of such things were which plants to put in the herb gardens and which to avoid. Households were easy victims of spoilage. Ill-used herbs, plucked from the garden by an unknowing cook, could cripple a house as much as rotted meat. She asked no further questions about where Nairne had learned her craft. After all, so many were returning the favor to her, and let the Lady Inveryne tell her story when she wished. If she did at all. *

Claramae: The girl was second guesshing herself. No my darling, let it be known that if she wished to test it would be far more obvious. Eyes on the wine glass made her mouth curve in a ghost's smile that died soon after birth. Stillborn only an instant, the soul vacated the expression as mouth animated into speech. "That it does. But then, too, it depends on the consistancy of the mixture, the arrangements that cone be done with it, and the method of application. So, we will begin our lessons in the sight of the Lady Avalle with a saying i am certain she might attest to in truth. Nothing as as it seems. There will be much we study in the halls, but your world will not be so contained. Where I will take you will require your every charm and every fascination for the consideration of the impossible.Sorschal himself is an illusionist, no? You see what may not be there for he wills it so. A secret may lay before your eyes, obvious. As a woman you are equipped with an exterior to hide an armory." Her head did not cant over much as she made mention to one several tables away. "See yonder table, with curtain askew? In sits a regular patron whom I am told holds a fascianation for the city's higher places of merit. He is seeking a place to host a gathering, where then he may lead to his new home in Bryante Row. There is another with them, his valet. At this distance, Mistress Adair, how would I, if need be, apply a potion or mixture?" (d)

Nairne: Nairne didn't shift in her seat though from the corner of one eye allowed herself to view those being mentioned by Claramae. Talk of consistency and other matters was noted. This was all that Nairne considered in what she did. It'd been highly debated when using the sleeping potion on Nathan. Now though the woman was asking to...apply a potion for such a distance as this. Insanity? Perhaps. Yet, Nairne's mind took to mulling over the matter for a few moments. Finally, speaking slow, she began,"Well, I have to say that I lack experience in long distance application. I have always...used myself to get close enough or slipped in to certain spots unseen." (d)

Rosalind: Rosalind's expression did not change, but she did wonder about coincidences for more than the moment in which the question waited an answer. She suddenly lost interest in the wine she had been holding, and set the cup on the table. She listened to Nairne's measured response, and since she had a better vantage without shifting of the gentleman below, studied him thoughtfully. *


Claramae: "I do not suppose that you are, and that is what we will remedy. Even in proximity where you sit as I do with you, there are ways. You will not always have the vantage of a shadow, nor a moment alone. So then you must learn to address the problem by solving it in unique ways. I have it on good authority that the sir at yonder table as sought a patron of good peerage to aid in the presentation of his daughters. This you will know, Mistress Adair, is a common reason for festivity along with contracts, alliances, or merely shows of pomp. Having no wife then, his daughters require the footing of acceptance into good households to naturally learn the manners of estate management and secure good matches." She took out from a fold of her skirts a sealed letter. The wax seal was as scarlet as the sash of rosalind or the inset of her own sleeves, in the shape of a rose baring phoenix. Master Voltaire took this, and began his way over to that table. "Tell me, when Voltaire gets there, does the sir take the letter?" (d)


Nairne: Learn. That was what Nairne was to do. Claramae was to be her teacher and she the pupil. There was no arguing on that matter. Alen had promised that she'd learn other things as well, means to protect herself, and hopefully he'd been honest. The attack in the fields not long ago had left her wishing for some means of self-defense. Sipping her wine quietly now, still observing from the corner of her eye. When Voltaire drew near the table her fascination grew.(d)

Rosalind: She supposed it was not her duty to ask why the man must be poisoned at all. Everything had its reason, and it was not always morally justified. This was not a time to be philosophical, but near death experiences tended to have that effect on a person. Long before the word sadistic had yet to be invented, continuing to observe the lesson in progress could certainly be labled just that. Yet Rosalind remained still, both hands now lightly folded in her lap, the injured right covered in a modified glove to match the left, though a bit of linen poked out at her wrist. She flicked it with her left hand, momentarily distracting herself with her incurable need for perfection. *

Claramae: Perfection. That was the key to the kingdom of the abseloute! The moment of death was near. Did they sense it or was it what they percieved to be the encroaching cold of the fingers from beyond the grave wanting to ensnare? Voltaire was seen giving the letter to a pair of outstretched, naked hands. Men could detere from such things as covering their flesh because it was not man that ate from the tree in Eden, was it? The sorrowful thing was, if you you paralleled philsophy at a time like this, that it proved the idea of women as the devil's whores so close to truth! He broke the seal, read the contents, and from the covered table two men rose as per the man's instructions to find the letter's writer and accept the offer in person. For her part in the matter Claramae said, "Pardon, my ladies." The Lord and his friend, a valet of some years for they matched in age, both made presentation of bow whereClaramae would make a curtsy. With the dip of the head forward and the lowering of the form, the signs of a noble rearing were too prominent to ignore as just the good fortune to pretend well. Impressed by this, the Lord made light conversation, accepting introductions of the Lady St. Laurence's additional company. A date was set to further discuss the Countess' patronage of his daughters, as well as further invitation to a feast to hail his returning men from the fields of war? Would not the others come on these days, as well? , would you see the night wore on! To make further gesture the Lord and valet each took up the lady's hand, kissed it, and bid all goodnight. Somewhere in that time it occurred, but where, when? They lingered downstairs awhile longer to take in water to ward off the effects of too much wine before hailing their horses to home. As one man walked out the door, the Lord would have a glassed look to his eyes, animated, but seeming ill, with the same of the valet yet worse. Some time later she reported to them. "His Lordship will only grow ill but shall be good again by the mid day, his valet will expire by morning. Before I tell you the necessity of the way of it, have you devised the answer?" (d)

Rosalind: Rosalind recalled the scene she had just witnessed, and despite her discomfort, turned to Claramae and nodded. "I believe I do, but is it my lesson to learn? I assure you, I have had more experience on the means of delivering substances to the unwitting than I care to admit. But I believe it administered on the back of your hand." *

Claramae: "It may be a lesson for either of you, though perhaps more a mere puzzle for you dear lady than for my apprentice. On the matter, that would be a good guess, but it is only part of the solution." Discomfort was not evident, and this Claramae found a thing to respect. Alas, the ability to feel discomfort on this had never crossed her even as a noviate. Eye did not blink as she merely picked up her wine, sipping it once more. (d)

Rosalind: "Then I await the answer, for I have no idea." Her poisoning, after all, had been the more traditional sort. Ladies should, after all, be confident they knew who handed them their drinks, and never left them unattended. *

Nairne: Curiousity. That was the feeling Nairne was experiencing. Questions were natural for her. Why had the man been poisoned yet allowed to live? Why his valet killed entirely? Application was most interesting as well. Part of it Claramae claimed. Taking a sip of wine, not worried about putting it down, she mused quietly to herself. Finally, raising a brow, she murmured,"It seems that I cannot quite figure it out either." That was galling to admit. Yet this was why she was student and not teacher. (d)

Claramae: "The valet took the letter, cracked the seal, and read it. The paper was given a solution, as was the ink. On breakng the seal, he breathed in the same solution, in a poweder form, for holding it close to read. It is near colorless, and thus easy to form into the make of an object. As for the lord himself, he was crossfed both poison and antidote at the same time." There was a delicate twist of her self in the chair as she addressed Rosalind next, and Nairne was privy to seeing an exquisite hair piece. The teacher's hair was bound in coils at the back of her head, held in place by a phoenix that sat in the low center, the wings encasing the coils, flat, soft feathers of black with red inserts amidst it. The body of the bird was an enameled red, lined in gold to brace it's body with a jeweled ruby eye. "He wore a favor on his tunic, a cross pair of feathers secured by a small ribbon." Turning thus to Nairne, then Rosalind could see the hair piece. She lifted a delicate hand and seeming to know where, pulled out a pair of feathers, proving the stems on them replaced by an artificial, very thin chamber that appeared what a feather grew from, save to tilt it just gently one could see the liquid within. Then she stuck them back in place. Her hair? Christ. The woman was either a genius or completely mad. She was the arsenal. "His favorite colors are black and scarlet, the colors of his house, coincidentally. He wished a sign to wear from mineself to him. He has had it for many hours now. His manservant was given concentrated amounts because the man is a rapist of the household maids, and possess an exceptional maw that shuts not on the matter."(d)

Rosalind: "Quite extraordinary. You could reach your mark without betraying his cover. I had thought your mode of employment rather broad." Rosalind nodded in approval, her own lesson accepted from the teacher. She did admit she had much to learn, and it was never too late to do so. "Do you always know the reasons for dispatching a target?' she asked next, a brow arched. The gesture was plainly obvious beneath the wimple, which exposed the oval of her face and a few inches of neck, all in the dark colors of mourning. Save that sash of crimson, of course. *

Claramae: "Yes. It serves well when one is given liason from the household's own steward on the matter of seeing his Lordship's safety. At the same time, Sorschal realized availing himself to the chamberlain it would allow us access beyond the secret window, so to speak. The sickness of the Lord will separate him from the extingiushing of the valet. They will no doubt think it a disease born of the man's daliance, and a side effect of the slow concetration of thepoison on ihs lordship is a blighting of the brain's coherence. So what he hears he will believe, what he believe he will not doubt in memory." Looking to Nairne she said, "On the morrow we shall meet at the Ebony Halls and begin to deconstruct your potion making, so it is a making of solution in varying forms, employed in different shapes and materials. Held, at times on your personIt requires extreme diligence and concentration, but it is useful. Like yourself, Mistress Adair, my former master took me on because of a skill I showed for knowledge. That knowledge translated easily into his medicinal crafts as first and foremost he was a physician. He was also an alchemist. Within the sciences one hand washes the other. a knowledge of herbs becomes aknowledge of their forms and uses. A knowledge of that begins to change form. Then that how to place them.. I carried both poison and antidote upon me." Which begged the question when she had learned to ply them as she did now, but not all was offered out in one night. Besides, who wanted to listen to her go on all eve? "You will be more than a mere potion maker, and you will also learn to make each adornment on you a veritable weapon or object of salvation. Paired against the charms of your features, the art of converstaion, wit, and extolingof the feminine virtues to the highest of noble caliber, it will be paramount." Some mad jokes of women killing with hair pins. This was one that could. (d)

Rosalind: Rosalind endured as much as she could, until finally, she had learned all she could stand. There was still much work to be done, even in the aftermath of battle. Lamont was without a laird, and Rosalind's reputation shaky at best. She stood, curtsied to the ladies, and made her apologies. "I will, of course, be meeting with Master Sorschal as soon as convenient. But I thank you, for tonight's lesson. Lady Nairne, it was a pleasure, and may we have a chance to speak at length soon." With that, she turned in her seat and rose, though it was impossible to see that she used entirely the force of her left leg over her right to stand. And like everything difficult in life, the stairs were taken one at a time until she reached the ground level, took up her cloak, and made her exit. *

[Ursula Darling]

Ursula: It had been days since she left Alen's presence since Jonathan's demise and neither had spoken a word of it since leaving the cottage. Really there were no words left to say. The deed was done, an evil soul exterminated and neither of them felt regret over it. At least she did not. Yet she needed a few days to rest and let her wounds heal and though it would take more then a few days, she needed to find a way to control the twist of her face when it throbbed. When she emerged it was with a control and level headed mind about her, such a simple and unreadable mask in place amidst the blue day gown adoring her form and a simple oak box in hand as she traveled down the streets of Turas Lan has if she didn't have a care within the world but there was purpose and known knew it but a magician and a courtesan as far as she was concerned. She also had a destination, the castle. "I'm here to see Nathan Renquest..I was told he is here.."She told a passing servant who directed her to the hall. "I'll find him madame, wait there.."The woman pointed before scurrying off. Chocolate hues roamed this way and that, she hadn't ever been in the castle. Still she wasn't about to go wandering around on her own. To many halls to get lost in.

Nathan:Well that was unexpected. Nathan himself was still trying to deal with bouts of Insomnia and struggling to come to grips with his near-death experience when the servant had called for him, leaving him utterly baffled. Lady Darling, of all people? taking a moment to clean up, throw on his best vest and other things, and the bookish scholar would eventually emerge, looking more than a bit surprised. "Lady Darling?" he tilted his head inquisitively and stepped lightly over, clearing his throat a bit and trying to wipe away the expression of mild bafflement. "Ah, Hello there. Can I help you with something?" the lad obviously thought that he had made some sort of mistake on the books or had otherwise missed some part of his profession in all the confusion, as it was the only reason he could say Lady Darling coming up and asking for him--well either that or firing him, and as much as unpleasant as the very idea of it was.

Ursula: A dark head turned and a smile pulled at her lips, though it was not one of those ear to ear smiles. She was not known for those and besides, even she knew any overkill and she would scare the poor man. "Hello Nathan.."As her head turned, so to did her body follow as she clasped the box by its handle behind her back. No she was not hiding anything, simply, holding onto it for the time being. "Oh, well I came to see how you were. I heard a rumor that you and some scholar had been attacked. You were very kind to me once, and I thought...well that kind of made us friends, I wanted to check on you. How are you?" It was then she displayed the box and wiggled it, pieces within muffled in a rattle within. "I brought you a chess board..I don't know how interesting a castle is...so..." The oak box was held out to him as she took a step towards him.

Nathan: "Oh... oh that. " he was surprised that there was both a rumor and that anyone actually cared about it, and so scratched his head feebly, his face flushing at the friendly sentiment from the woman. "Uh, Thank you... I.. I'm alright, more or less. Rather unexpected I suppose but all's well and I have all my parts, at least." he smiled, however awkwardly. of Ursula's many qualities however, her perchant for observation was second to almost none, the young scholar's face practically ligthing up at the mention of such a thing. "Oh...! Oh, why Lady Darling, that's so... very thoughtful!" well if he didn't think them of anything but friendly co-workers then. " He reached to gently take the box and flip it open with a curious enough expression, finding it surprisingly the pieces of surprisingly construction. Taken aback by the gesture, he looked up to her. "I ah... I don't really even know what to say. That's... well that's very kind of you." Honestly, he was downplaying how badly he had been spooked, but in his eyes, why would he go into detail about what happened to someone like Lady Darling? The poor woman didn't need to hear of his own harrowing experience, 'lest he spare her delicate sensibilities! Remembering his place, he looked about. "Oh, how rude of me? Can I get you anything while you're here? Ah, tea... or something?"

Ursula: "Oh really you don't need to thank me. I was concerned about you..I would of come sooner but there has been some drama at the Lily.."Absently her hand waved"But you probably don't want to know about that." She smiled again, apparently pleased by his likeness of her gift to him. "Well come on..lets set it up." She reached for his arm and pulled him into the sitting room, pushing knickknacks upon a table to the side as she pulled up a chair. "Oh no, I'm fine thank you..I have to confess though, I was rather distressed to hear you the rumor, moreso to know its true. I'm not usually one for gossip but I can't fathom just...why someone would want to hurt you, or the lady scholar for that matter and your face tells me, your rather upset over it. What happened Nathan?" Sliding into the chair as she waited for him to set up the chessboard.

Nathan: "Oh... is something wrong, then?" his ears practically perked at hearing about trouble within the Lily but he wouldn't press the subject, stepping along to the sitting room without much protest, folding the board and placing both sets up with almost practiced, mechanical precision. In the days learning as a Scholar he'd played many of a game, and the chance to do so again was oddly invigorating, despite it. But all the joy of that would have to give way to finding out just what happened, and Nathan grew tight-lipped, though whether it was for his own reasons or because the fact he'd been attacked over it simply made him leery of discussing it out loud was another matter. "I... uh... well, I believe they were going after Lady Kaori as well as myself, to be terribly honest with you.. I..I can't say that I really know, to be honest, I've been involved in.. research with Lady Kaori of the perhaps controversial sort, but..." he trailed off and fidgeted, making a show of taking a pair of pawns and closing his fists over them in clandestine gesture before offering them both to the lady again.

Ursula: "Mmm, no nothing wrong. The Lady Aramoire sister was seen as died and then turned up alive. I don't know if you knew about that, then the little boy Madame Aramoire brought home, well he turned out to be her sisters long lost son.." She spoke as she watched him set up the board before chocolate hues lifted up in his direction. Damn it, tight lipped all ready, inwardly she sighed and rethought her approach on the situation. "Research?" Her fingers lifted, tapping against her lips before she let out a sigh an shrugged. "Seems such an odd reason for someone to attack the both of you.." Her hand shifted, moving out to tap his left hand before she smiled. "I am glad you are all right though, if you wish to talk about it...Nathan..you can trust me.." The look on her face was plain and clear, there was no underlining reason, no malicious intent, he could trust her if he but saw it within him to trust her. For that was exactly what she meant, she had told Alen she didn't see Nathan as being a threat and the boy was just so...well she didn't know but he was one in need of protection and affection, even of the friendly sort.

Nathan:"Well, it's more the kind of research we're doing." he replied, honestly enough. Truth was though, he was hesitant. Kaori was right in her assessment--somebody, somewhere had gotten wind of it. Who's to say it wasn't someone in the Lily? He looked into Ursula's eyes then, trying to find some sign of sincerity.. and admittedly, he found it. For all her ulterior motive, he saw nothing. Pretending to hide his own concern, he followed along with a smile, opening the palm of his hand to reveal a white pawn which he placed back. "The matter's the war. The Lady High Scholar believes we may find a history that may see this Lord Maubery a war criminal. If such a thing happens, he'll lose the bulk of his resources and may even have reprisal. Theoretically, at least, it could put an end to the war then and there..."

Ursula: "So this research...is on Maubery?" Her head tilted in somewhat confusion, somewhat understanding. A grin slid over her lips as the white pawn was revealed, how symbolic that seemed to be. An omen perhaps. In seeing the pawn placed on the board, she turned it so the white was in front of her, black for him. "Well for a man attuned of seeing his sons downfall, I don't see how he has escaped thus far from being imprisoned as a war criminal.." White went first right? Geesh she just couldn't remember! Well, no one ever got anywhere but just sitting dully. A pawn was thrust forward before she set her chin upon an upturned hand as she waited for him. "So...I am kind of confused really, does that mean you knew your attacker?" Chocolate hues lifted from the board to him, truthfully, she was confused, not really pulling information from him. She herself was just trying to understand the situation.

Nathan: "Ah. Yes. but well, part of it is that frankly, intrigue in the court is well tolerated. Honestly, the real trick is never being caught more than comitting the crimes. It's just the way of things." His head tilted at the move she made, trying to make a few elementary guesses to her strategy before moving one of his own pawns in response. "Until proof is demonstrated of his actions, he's rather... evasive, I'm afraid. " After which he looked at the woman, albeit briefly and tilted his head. "Huh? Oh, no . Never met him before. We can only speculate that Maubery sent him. Kaori has... some kind of history, I suppose, but I'm not even sure which one of us was the one he was looking to kill." he swallowed hard. "From what Lady Kaori said, he was aiming for me. and he most assuredly did try to kill me. I just... well, I can't imagine why." he tried to wave it off as something not worth considering, managing a smile that belied how badly the thing had shaken him.

Ursula: Her fingers lazily drummed against her cheek, bored? No she was trying to decide what she was doing as far as the chess game went. It had been so long since she had played. Another pawn was slide forward, trying to free one of her knights for a proper move but well, pawns got sacraficed first, right? "Oh, I see.."She gave a nod of her head and smiled his way. "Never thought what happens in books would happen to you eh?" She hummed in a small note of amusement, though not at his expense. "I'll tell you a little secret of mine, if you promise not to tell anyone. When I was younger...when I learned to read, I used to act out the scenes I would read in books, sometimes with my friend, Jonathan, sometimes alone. Didn't matter who saw me...I loved it.." A grin curled her lips, chocolate eyes twinkled in silent laughter at the memories congured up at even mentioning something she had nearly forgotten.

Nathan:Nathan fixed her an interested look than and moved another piece without much of a word, setting up his Pawn defensively, a conservative play versus what he perceived to be an aggressive one. Her little insight hit right to the core of what had been bothering him, and he gave her a pained smile. "Y...Yes. I suppose it is." he dwelled on ever briefly, until the next little secret from Ursula's lips earned him a plain flabbergasted look, shooting up at her, plainly shocked. His face flushed at the mere mention of it. Surely she had to be making fun of him? Realizing just how much such a display indicted him, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I see... well.. it's all fun... when it's a fantasy, but I must admit, after having experienced a decidedly real experience.. well.." he shook his head and tried to wave it off. "Sorry... I just... I'm still struggling to get a grip on it. You know? It's... terribly difficult. " Though from his perspective, Ursula probably wouldn't have much insight in that. He couldn't imagine the glamorous woman involved in any kind of danger...

Ursula:The knight slide forward and over, capturing his pawn which she plucked from the board and set it aside. A smile pulled at her lips. Not the best move, but heck she thought she was doing quite well to have one take down! She never claimed to be an expert at the game. A delicate brow arched at the surprised look on his face. She could nearly read his thoughts when he looked like that! No she wasn't making fun of him, she truly had done it, till she joined the stage for real. "Don't be sorry Nathan, its different yes, when you imagine getting hurt but aren't...when its real, well..I understand how its a lot more scary."Her lips curled into a grin. "I'm not as fragile as your thinking I am, and I know it sounds terribly cliche but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, yes?"

Nathan: Very aggressive. but of course, moving the Knight so early meant that it was unsupported. It fell a moment later, smiling sheepishly. She wasn't a natural at this. He was starting to take this for what it was--Lady Darling had, for whatever reason, took it upon herself to comfort him. The color hit his face again for a decidedly different reason, but he said nothing. "Ah... Yes, I suppose that is true. " He looked to her with a painfully sympathetic look, trying to imagine what she might have gone through but struggling to imagine what it was. "I appreciate you... I mean, coming to check up on me. It's... well it's nice. I... you know, I don't know many people here. " he scratched the back of his neck whilst further words died in his throat, passing her a sort of sheepish smile. "So--ah, I guess you're going to be running the Lily for a little while again?"

Ursula: "Ohhhh fudge!" She cursed as her knight was captured. Her nose wrinkled in disappointment. Hell, she knew by that point he figured out she wasn't fooling him into thinking she was a good chess player at all! Her fingers drummed against her cheek again as she offered him a smile. "Oh, well...hmmm, that's what friends do right?" She hummed in a note of a laugh and shrugged her shoulders like it was no big thing, it really wasn't. For her to be friends with someone, well...it was kind of unnerving for her too. Another pawn was thrust forward at the end of the board, she'd keep the rest around the King and Queen, so there was plenty more to move around them. "Well you might not know a lot of people now, but you will. Can't imagine anyone not liking you, at least the decent citizens in this place." She winked and settled back to drum her fingers against her cheek again in waiting. "Oh yes, I suppose so, something about Madame Aramoire going to..oh shoot, I can't remember but Nicholas, her guard is accompanying her so I guess its rather important." Fudddgeeee, she said to much. Lips pressed tightly together as she silently cursed to herself for her blabbering lips sometimes. "Will you be coming back to the Lily anytime soon?" Stupid question she knew since Alen had Nathan moved to the castle but she needed her bookkeeper back! If only the man knew, she couldn't do math!

Nathan: "Uh.. well, once the danger is past, I intend to. I mean, I'll still continue my employment in here.. mind you." he looked a little embarrassed, mostly by the idea of making plenty of friends--truth be told, he wasn't exactly having much luck, save a Ranger Commander that apparently wanted him to ravish him and a crazed Egyptian threatening to stab him after meeting Anulia, but her compliment was enough to embarrass him considerably. After all, if a woman like Ursula could say something like that... " Much as this new bit of insight about Shaden brought a bout of curiosity. After all, she had just mentioned some earlier intrigued, he wondered if they were tied together somehow? he resolved to check into it later. Alen was going to kll her. "My work with Lady Kaori is strictly a secondary interest. Because of my.. ah.. English connection, it is hard to put me on any kind of permenent position in Skye. So I remain in the Lily's employ for the time being." he smiled cheerfully and continued to play along conservatively, searching for hints of a strategy--but he believed her strategy to largely be a matter of improvising move for move.

Ursula: "Good. I would rather hate to loose the best bookkeeper I've ever known."That was not far from the truth, actually, it was very true, being as she didn't know many bookkeepers, if any besides him. The game continued and by the time she realized what was going on, only her queen was left and one knight all the way on the other side of the board. "Oh Fudge!" Hell, even she knew Alen would kill her later for her big fat mouth but she couldn't take it back without suspicion right? "Oh, don't worry about secondary interests, as long as the books of the Lily are well kept, well doesn't bother me what you do in your spare time. But you will be careful won't you Nathan? After what's happened, well..I don't want to see you hurt again. I'm rather proud of you, if you and this...Lady Kaori weren't doing this, who else would? Not many I don't believe.."

Nathan: Poor Nate had to laugh. It was the first time he'd genuinely laughed in a while. grinning mildly at the mild encouragement, he blushed, however faintly and replied "Thank you.. I will... I will try to be careful, I assure you." he was so terribly embarrassed by her concern. "I'll be in first thing tomorrow and get to work on the books again. You can count on me." and of course, he said so as he administered the final coup de grace, grinning playfully. "Checkmate, Lady Darling." he smiled impishly. "Well, a lovely game Lady Darling. Though.. I suppose you don't have many clients that ask for something like this, do you?" Was that Nate making a joke? about her line of work!? He MUST have been comfortable. It was practically unheard of!

Ursula: A grin curled her lips as he laughed. It was the first time she'd ever heard him laugh. "Good, as long as you promise me.."She hummed in another note of laughter before staring down at the board at check mate. "Oh Fudge!" She hissed before letting out a laugh as her finger flicked her queen to fall over. "All right all right, so I don't play chess well."Her tongue stuck out in his direction though she was generally surprised he was teasing her! A flush took to her cheeks though it was not embarrassment, but trying to keep from bursting out laughing and make him flutter. "Actually no, I am rather surprised and don't worry...I won't charge you..."She paused to grin "This time.." Of course she was teasing in return.

Nathan: "A...Actually, that's the wrong piece." he point to her king with a bit of a wry grin, continuing to needle her however lately. "that's alright. Your instincts aren't too bad, you just.. thought turn to turn. It's a very common thing for a novice to do." The smile lasted exactly the time of her riposte. Even if it was jest, the very nature of it made his face turn bright red and look sharply upon the place. Yet somehow, even then he'd manage to reply. 'You mean for playing again, or does that just apply when I beat you?" he chuckled again, struck by the odd stray thought that he saw quite easily why Ursula was so highly sought after, though he banished it a moment later. In his eyes, it was a shame that the woman was placed solely in a job like this, he thought her capable of near anything she wanted (and if he had known what she was in fact doing, he would have ran in the other direction, truthfully "But honestly, Ursula. Thank you. a ... well a lot has been on my mind lately. I.. I really appreciate you. checking on me."

Ursula: "I seem to do that a lot lately, think turn to turn.."She gave him a weary grin as she pointed to her King"Hey, he needed to sleep too!" Before her finger moved to flick over her Queen. Arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back within the chair. "I did rather enjoy this.."a smile snaked over her lips once more as she hummed in a note of amusement, little smart ass! She rather liked to see him so relaxed he was able to tease her openly. "Well..depends on how many times you beat me, after the third or forth time, I might start charging you, then maybe you'll just let me win not to have to pay eh?" The banter went back and forth so smoothly even with the flame of his cheeks. "Your welcome, Nate, Can't say I know what's specifically on your mind, but I know what its like to be in your shoes. I wasn't always a courtesan portraying a lady, less like a lady then you can imagine..but um, well I know what its like to be unnerved by events in your life, I think the thing that gets me by is knowing..life is never repeated, you only get one chance and well, if you survive each turn, your stronger for it, and had one heck of an adventure."Her shoulders rolled in a lazy shrug before she was smiling again and nodding her head to the chess board. "This was a gift...by the way, take good care of it?"

Nathan: "Well, I could always teach you a few tricks, you know." he replied mirthfully. at least she didn't go right to the more obvious joke, and he found himself once more intrigued by what the Lady Darling really was, before she became a Courtesan, but moreso, he was genuinely touched by the sentiment she had offered him, even if he was being scarce on details. He smiled, a warm, friendly expression. "You're very clever, Lady Darling. I really must write such sentiment down to ensure it preserved." he was almost humbled by the sentiment. " I mean, I don't mean to be well.. pushy, but it could be useful! I mean.. for.. *ahem* entertaining clients. Surely. and it's really just a matter of learning the classic strategies, than you can just learn your own. it's faintly simple." and ironically, it'd be useful in her other profession as well, though he couldn't have known of that. "What? Oh, Ursula, I really couldn't. I mean, I appreciate it, but this is a gift to you, I couldn't..." now it was time to be embarrassed again.

Ursula:Now it was a chance for her cheeks to flame. Surely Alen knew her sentiments on being complimented but Nate couldn't of known. "Hmm, feel free to use such sentiments in any writings, but don't mention me, I'm not as clever as it seems..Just..."She heaved a sigh as she shifted within the chair"horribly aware of the world." She let out a 'huhmmm" of a chuckle as her lips once again curled into a grin. "Oh please, I insist...or rather, lets make a deal shall we? You accept my gift, and I'll accept your offer to teach me the game..how about that?" Her head tilted with the offer of a deal, would he take it or brush it off again? This wasn't part of the 'game' she was playing in getting information from him, though she had been correct in assuming the selected gift was the right choice for him. Clever? No, just again, horribly aware of the world. Sufficed to say, once your eyes were opened to the evils of the world, innocence of a child was lost completely, you saw things different, you weighed things, you calculated it all, you were less naive. "So..."she mused after a long silent pause "Do we have a deal?"

Nathan: Well it was hard to say no to the offer. The blush surprised him, to say the least, but he was too polite to press it home any further. He learned more about these Courtesans the more time he spent with them. "I don't know. That may be but.. I mean, it's kind of a beautiful way to look at something. The world can't be... so terrible if you're able to evoke such poetry form it. " he smiled genuinely again and hesitantly started to pluck pieces away to be set aside so he could pack up. "Alright. It's a deal then. I'd be happy to teach you. " it was still an awkward sentiment, but it seemed a fair trade, certainly the least he could do, though he'd repay the gift in kind in his own way some time, he was sure of it. "We'll make something formidible out of you, I'm sure. " he grinned again, before adding, painfully genuine. "Thank you, Lady Darling. Thank you very much. It... well it means a good deal to me." and he meant it when he said it. The woman who wore nothing but masks had genuinely touched a man who wore none.

Ursula: She let out a geniune laugh at that. He had a point. Emitting poetry about the world, yet it was both beautiful and dark. Still, she had to agree with what he was saying and gave a nod of her head to prove it. "You're right.." She sat up within the chair and began to help him pluck the pieces off the board to pack it away. "Good, a deal it is, and I look forward to our next visit, and your teachings...master"There she was teasing him again as she sent him a wink in jest. As the pieces were packed away properly, her hands moved to smooth down over her skirts. "I'm sure we will Nate, and your welcome, truly.." A smile kissed at her lips again as her hands still at her stomach, compliments and friendship, both were new and still very unsettling for a woman who wore masks. Yet in geniune affection for the bookkeeper. Surely as Alen felt protective over her, she was becoming towards Nate. Alen might be dissatisfied with the information she had gathered, but did that mean she was done? Oh no. There was still pieces of this puzzle to put together and she was working it within her mind behind the mask of complete calm. "As does your friendship to me...Nathan..thank you"