Meeting Eli
Log Info
- Title: Meeting Eli
- GM: Aftershock
- Place: Fox's Den, Alexandros
The Fox's Den is a surprisingly high-end establishment given its name. Perhaps owing to it's owner's more pious nature and inclination to Tarienite worship rather than the more seedy implications that such a name might usually inspire.
It's not hard to find the paladin in the place though, even in a place where the local clerics come to drink there's not a lot of paladin's to be found and a paladin devoted to Daeus is even rarer to be found. His clothes are the strict vestments of one who has devoted their life to Daeus and they are impeccably clean. His food is tea and bread from the local inn and nothing more. He sits by himself and watches the locals with a wary eye.
He hardly even looks like the locals being a man of some stature with a fiery mane of hair and pale blue eyes that look like rainfall. They have a sad look to them. As if he pities every man and woman he sees.
Gramarye is dressed in her chain shirt and she has a greatsword on a sheath strapped to her back. The war golem girl is so large that she has to duck (rather stiffly) into the Fox's Den to even enter, on account of her height. Which means she stands rather awkwardly like a sore thumb by the door.
"Inquiry: who is speaking to the man first?" she intones, a light 'blinking' in her obsidian eyes for every syllable, since she has no moving mouth with which to speak. "I recommend that it is not me. My social navigation module is honed for necessary interactions. Development of a 'subtle chit-chat' module is ongoing."
Right behind Gramarye is Khepri, the lanky wargolem just as tall and imposing. The burnished symbol of Vardama is embossed into its breastplate, but the Executor does not wear its battle-mask this time, the plague-doctor faceplate hanging off its belt. The dozen or so scarab charms around its neck jingle softly as it moves, in time with the swaying of the heavy khopesh sheathed at its hip.
"Idle chatter is not in my skills, either. The nature of my service does not lend itself to such." The voice comes from the oval of white jade that serves as Khepri's face, the lips unmoving. "However: he is a paladin and might prefer straightforward interaction and exchange of information."
"That don't sound like much fun," the oruchess points out. "Not talking, that is. Quiet's borin..." Bryn is wearing her usual; light chain over leather top and skirt, with some fur wraps for arms and legs when it's chilly.
She looks over the place and then to the the one that sticks in like an unsore thumb. "Course, he looks kinda borin, too. Not like the rest of the place."
Haggerty has to lower himself closer to where a small black dog is trundling about him not to dent his fancy wizardly hat. The thin Aesir crabwalks to the side, listens to the living constructs, shrugs, "I vote Mistress Bryn." The similarly redheaded arcanist helps himself to some snus which he promptly inhales up his nostrils with a pair of sharp snorts. "But then, I may speak, if you gentlefolk not harbor the wish to?"
Carver smirks at something as they follow the Warbots inside, her silhouette as ever more furs than girl. What exactly tickled her? Hmmm. Left to wonder on that regard as she inspects the room. It doesn't take no genius to figure out the striking figure of the paladin, knuckles promptly rubbing at her cheek to dislodge a bit of snow.
"I don't know about all yous but never seen a holy knight who much cared for anythin' but their professed god and some maiden they keep tryin' to impress by stabbing lances into each other. Unless you lot got any maidens tucked away to swoon for us, I say we just introduce ourselves and do our best." She gives Haggerty a once over, "You know the righ' questions to ask?" Pause. Shrug. "I think we jus' approach as a group and wing it but I gots no complaints if you an' Bryn wanna take the conversational reins."
Indeed at this point, your group by the door is drawing quite the amount of attention. From... everyone. Even the paladin in question is taking his measure of the group of you with with his sad eyes.
The proprietor of the inn bustles over to you however, being a bit proactive and asks, "Hello, might I help you folks?" He smiles politely and rubs his hands together against the chill that you've let in. "Warm tea or toddy perhaps?"
Gramarye's head pivots in the direction of the proprietor. Her obsidian eyes blink. Blink. Blink. Maybe it's like how real eyes blink in surprise. Maybe she's merely indicating that she's thinking.
"I do not require beverage, as I am incapable of consuming liquids." Gramarye intones this politely. "May we buy a beverage of the Sunblade's choosing, however? I will deposit the currency required into your hand. Name your price." Maybe Gramarye does have some social grace after all.
Khepri stares back at the paladin with its expressionless sulfur-yellow eyes, before turning its gaze to the proprietor. As Gramarye has this well in hand, the golem looks to the others.
"This line of thought is acceptable," it states to Carver. "We will proceed, and add additional questions as needed." A pause, then, "Hopefully he is in the mood for talk."
Haggerty rubs his neck and enunciates nasally, "A cool icewine I would endear, good operator. A lukewarm day such as this makes it opportune, I say. I shall position two tips." He fishes out a large kerchief, sneezes inside with verve, "Uahh!" He lowers his head to Carver, "That we can, good dame. And we do have the attention of every one here."
"Ale!" Bryn suggests eagerly to the proprietor, adding with a tuksy grin, "Ain never met one I didn' like." Maybe one day she will, but she won't know without trying. She then expands her grin to all the eyes she spies lookin their way, including the flame-headed Sunguy. "Ey! How's ev'rybody? Wha's good ta eat?"
"Ye." Carver says, "Some of us might not warrant many looks. Some of us..." She trails off as Gramarye prepares libational introductions with the aide of the cheerful owner, "I would not min' some hot tea, actually." She adds a few coins to Gramarye's offer to pay for her part as well as Bryn begins to bard it up.
GAME: Bryn rolls diplomacy: (10)+3: 13
The owner seems a bit stymied initially by Gramarye's offer. "Him? Hot tea's all he's been drinking. Five copper is all..." But then Haggerty cuts in with his order and the owner seems a bit shocked and shakes his head, "Yesser. Of course." He mumbles something about mages to himself and takes the coin from Haggerty before sketching a polite bow to Carver and taking her coin as well.
Bryn however gets a cool reception from the crowd and the owner laughs nervously. "The bread is fresh if you like miss. I can make some stew. There's some meat to be had as well. Though there's little enough to be had in the winter months." He smiles sadly. "I was lucky that a farmer nearby had to put down a cow that went lame."
The mention of the slender food selection inspires another round of blinking in Gramarye's eyes. "Understood," she says simply, and then...
She starts walking. She walks right up to the table where the sad-eyed paladin is sitting. "Hello," she greets. "I am Grace Reason Amity Miracle August Revelry Young Earnest--designation GRAMARYE. We have ordered a repast of tea for you to enjoy. In exchange, may you be willing to speak with myself and my allies regarding a certain manner?"
As Gramarye introduces herself, she even adds a stiff curtsy to the equation. Maybe the novelty of the introduction and the curtsy might open the metaphorical door out of sheer amusement in contrast to Gramarye's matter-of-fact delivery.
Khepri follows, as it seems Gramarye is taking point. There is something to be said for directness, after all. Its heavy footfalls sound counterpoint to Gramarye's, the blank face occasionally sweeping back and forth across the crowd as the charms around its neck chime.
"The Harpist's grace be with you," Khepri intones, addressing the paladin. Though they are of different faiths, and certainly different temperament, there is something to be said about being men -- or golems -- of the cloth. A shared interest in more than just the mortal realm.
GAME: Gramarye rolls Diplomacy: (11)+0: 11
Haggerty chuckles merrily, stretches a little and closes the door, if nobody did so finally. He nods, "Maybe a friendly entity finds some meats and sausages to cure in your fireplace's chimney." The pooch arps, looks up with his big eyes, realizes the meat will not be readily available. Sads. Next up: flick a Khazadi denomination platinum coin to the proprietor. He meanders after the GRAMARYE unit. "A veritable pleasure." Hagg tips his pointy head coverage.
"That's pretty." Carver says to Gramarye. "Well-said, heart of the matter. We did jus' come to talk." She bites at the tip of her gloves to pull them off, flexing fingers to get blood flowing again. "Jus' wasn't sure how best to to introduce ourselves."
The paladin looks surprised as Gramarye approaches him, and states her name for him. "Greetings. You did not need buy me a drink to secure a conversation, but I appreciate the tea." He nods to the owner of the inn as the man comes quickly bustling over to his table with the hot water for two, ale, and the drink for Haggerty as well. All set down in record time.
"Light of the Daeus on you all. You may call me Eli." The paladin offers to you, motioning for you to sit down. "Tell me what brings you to this township, and what it is that brings you to question me. For surely there's a reason to bring adventurers to a place as remote as this." He seems to recognize adventurers when he sees them.
Carver lays her gloves on the table. It isn't meat a symbolic gesture, but in the absence of cards, it will have to do. "Some here might not be fully fah-me-ler with some of the struggles. For yous that don't know, these troubles began with what seemed like a simple job. Strawberries. Some of us here took it as gig work from a certain eccentric nearby lord. That you might keep as a letter pal, Eli."
She rubs her cheek again with the knuckles of her left hand. "I spare details. Fightin' a horse-drownin ars-er-jerk, bandits, all types. Strange black cat who somehow seems involved but maybe not? Even put a real famous person down when they looked at it sideway. More famous and stronger than maybe anyones here."
"Mayhaps very same black cat what int-ey-fered with several events now known to be in possession of the lord." BREAAATH. Deep. "What you keep in touch with. So, er."
Sweat beads on her forehead. "I guess what I'm sayins is that, why? Or," She looks to Bryn for guidance. "Maybe rather what's the letters between you and the Lord about?"
GAME: Khepri rolls sense motive: (20)+10: 30
Gramarye doesn't nod or give any other nonverbal indication of her approval of Carver's explanation. But she does say, "Miss Carver is correct. We would like to know more about your relationship with the lord and the black cat. I have been witness to two incidents of mercenary work for the lord, contracted through his manservant, Nasir Vali. The black cat has been present both times despite no reason to be present at such. Miss Carver has witnessed it more times. My analyses have concluded that there is an oddity present about the feline that must be accounted for."
A blink in her obsidian eyes. "Please disclose everything that you know. It would be a welcome addition to my data sets."
Khepri keeps its eyes on the paladin Eli, that yellow stare impassive. But it does note, "In at least one case the shipment's location was known to the brigands that attacked it. That implies foreknowledge of the caravan's path. That someone in Lord Ahu's company was letting it be known."
The golem tilts its head slightly. "There is clearly more at work here than simple bandits raiding. Any information you have would be helpful."
Carver's head bobs as others fill in some details of the ad-hoc investigation.
"And even cobblings to you, Master Knight Eli!" the wizard finds himself a seat and the shrunk bulldog hops into the Daeusite's lap. Blue eyes dart to black canine, and up to sad blue peepers. Hagg sinks his narrow shoulders after, but not for long. He nods encouragingly after Carver's speech. He drinks of the syrupy white wine and tries to guess what Carver's wordings mean.
Bryn isn't the most guiding for a few moments, mostly in favor of being more drinking. She's nabbed up the ale and is thoroughly testing it with an imprecises series of large gulps. When she does come up for air, she looks to Carver. Nods. "Right. Bandits. Cats. Letters. All that stuff." Very helpful, she is. So she adds, "Weird stuff."
Eli frowns slightly at the mention of the cat but shrugs, looking at the dog in his lap a touch incredulously. "I know nothing in specific about the feline save that the Lord Ahu is known to keep one as a pet. That one would be found around his lands is no surprise to me. Yet if one is suspicious it lends credence to my own concerns. Namely that Lord Ahu himself is not what he seems. You see the deliveries which you speak of were all set to be delivered to a woman known as Lady Mori’amana. Who is herself not a lady of the human variety. She is instead... something else. Which lends me the question: What manner of man entreats with a woman not of this world? The question led me to uncover some deepening mysteries about our Lord Ahu."
He pauses here and looks at the group of you. "Still, I'm not entirely sure that I'm inclined to share everything I've learned with virtual strangers. Even if you are adventurers or have the looks of ones... That doesn't make you friends of mine. I've heard hard stories about your kind. How can I be sure that I can trust you?"
GAME: Khepri rolls knowledge/the planes: (11)+9: 20
Gramarye pauses for a moment before she then folds up her ball-jointed fingers into a pointing pose. She points at herself. And then she points at Khepri. "Constructs, such as myself and my friend, Khepri, are not known for trickery or deceit. We do not have the charisma for lying that organic lifeforms bear. Additionally, I have no such module to assist me in lying to you. I am only interested in providing accurate information about the matter at hand, and in collaborating with you to learn more about the situation."
A blink in her obsidian eyes. "If this is insufficient, you have my word and oath that I tell nothing but the truth in these matters."
Khepri stares at Eli impassively. "You do not. But I can swear by Vardama, the Gray Harpist, whose words I speak and whose voice I obey, that my interest is in unraveling this riddle, and discovering why it has come to pass."
"My understanding of courtship is somewhat limited." The golem's voice is dry. "However, to court a woman who is not of Ea might present... certain challenges. Such entities would not be wooed by the same things a mortal maiden might find attractive."
"Proving good faith requires deeds." Carver says with a frown. "I got lots of words for yous, but I can't make you believe a stinkin' bit of them." She pats her baldric as if looking for something, then gives up with a sigh. "I want the world to be for who its made for. Iffin' this Lord Ahu courts the Beyond, then I want to be the annoyin' lark screaming over his enchanting weddin' vows."
"So, if you doubt us, give us a chance to prove it. A quest. That's somethin' both paladins and adventurers understand right?"
Haggerty harrumphs silently, "To second Mistress Carver. The temple of Serriel can speak for me, but do test us, if you deem our hearts be tested. If not, which plane could be this lady's origin, Master Daeusite?"
Bryn perks up. "Quest, ye! Tha'ssa best idea I've heard yet." A pause. "After the ale, that is." Which she upends to complete her investigation (of the ale). "Ain' one ta worry bout who fancies who, but if there's deceivin 'n schemin 'n such, that leads ta all sortsa bad."
"While you seem erstwhile lady Gramarye, and I would not doubt a fellow paladin's word." Here Eli nods to Khepri. "But I have seen others led astray. Perhaps a quest is wise. Give me the night to think on it. I will send you word of the quest and its means in the morning." He finishes his tea then and rises to his feet, bowing to the group, and heading to his room thereafter.
Haggerty returns the bow. The freckled man drinks down the wine as if it were a small cup of rye, sighs his experience of the treat to his tongue, barks low to call the pug back and slaps the table, "Thank you, good knight!"