 | [Ajali/Others]
Ajali stretched his arm by Astarte to put his empty mug down on the
table. As he leaned over, he told her, "Your friend is an excellent
musician. One can practically hold his music in one's hands --- feel
it, taste it. It lives."
This is all innocuous stuff,: said Figment disparagingly as the bard
played a lighthearted and lively tune. :If you come down to the common
room in the Inn after the supper hour tonight, you might hear
something really good. The merchant didn't want any music that might
take his customers' minds off his goods.: The dragon peered around at
the covered area. :Good idea, making a covered mall, though. It's got
him more customers than he might otherwise have had.:
[Vance - in the Tower]
Vance had cried himself out by the time he reached the Tower with Mage
Springer. He huddled in the chair they'd put him in, expecting them to
bring out an axe to cut his hands off, or throw him in a dungeon with
rats and chains. Instead, he was given a plate of stew, a mug of sweet
water and a lecture, then told he was to be sent away to some farm or
something.
Mindful of the storyteller's tales, he didn't want to eat the stew in
case it did something horrible to him, but it smelled... so... so...
good! It had been months since he'd had anything other than burned
crusts and vegetable peelings filched from refuse heaps. Twice he had
stolen pies from merchants' stalls, but that was something he dared
not do unless he had been unable to find any refuse in marginally
edible condition. It involved a type of theft that was all too easily
noticed, unlike picking pockets. That he had done it today was still
in keeping with that philosophy - he hadn't stolen the pie until
_after_ he'd already been fingered.
The tantalizing aroma of the stew broke his reservations at last. Even
if it did kill him, at least he'd die with a full belly for a change.
And, he rationalized, if he was to be enslaved to some farmer,
poisoning him would queer the deal. A farmer wasn't likely to want a
body that couldn't work.
Hot, rich gravy, generous chunks of vegetables, _meat_ that probably
hadn't died meowing, barking or whinnying, herbs to accentuate or
compliment the flavors... He couldn't remember ever having had
anything that tasted that good, even when Da was alive. Joss, now,
Joss couldn't cook worth a damn. Throw it on the fire for a while then
eat what wasn't burned was his culinary expertise, and he'd not
favored green stuff at all.
Once the first taste of heaven was in him, Vance started thinking
again, furiously. Could he turn this to his advantage? Any farmer
would have work to do that would necessitate his leaving his slave to
his duties alone once in a while. Vance would likely be shackled to
keep him from running away, but he wasn't a bad hand at picking locks
- Da had shown him how to fiddle the workings. Once he was free, well,
it didn't do to plan too far in advance. It would depend on the
circumstances and how far away from any town he might be.
Father Taverish had followed Mage Springer to the Tower and he stood
waiting for the sergeant to take the boy's bail money.
"I'd appreciate it if you could keep him here until we return at the
end of the festival," Father said, "It wouldn't do to have the poor
boy return to the streets and we can't find him when we leave. I'll
pay for his upkeep until we come to get him. Feed him well and dress
him properly. Let me know how much extra that will cost me."
The sergeant checked his register, "We usually don't keep bailed out
people in jail, but then there have been exceptions to the rule. A
couple of golds will most likely do it."
[Lord Taverish in the Guard Tower]
Lord Taverish hauled out the extra coin for Vance's expenses, "We
won't keep him as a slave and he'll be too far from town for a
comfortable return. He should be out of your hair for some time. I
hope that he comes to enjoy our ranch. This won't be the first, nor
should it be the last, stray my daughter has collected." The man gave
a low laugh, "Our ranch is rife with crippled cats, over fed stray
dogs and retired horses that should have gone for feed long ago. We
also have gypsies too old to travel and the odd stray mage she's
convinced to live with us. One more won't be any trouble at all."
[Astarte in the marketplace]
Astarte shivered as the vampire's arm passed close to her neck. One
of those not necessarily bad shivers. She turned in her seat, caught
hold of the front of his coat and drew him down so her mouth was only
inches from his ear.
"Just so as we understand each other, shadow man," she said quietly.
"I'm Robin's body guard. You can stare at my neck all you want, but
try any of your tricks on me, or bite me without permission and you'll
find out that there's nastier things than you up here in the north."
She trailed her fingers up his neck and stroked her hand over his
hair.
"Am I making myself clear?"
[Ajali]
There was no fear of her in the vampire's eyes as he met her own. In
fact he arched one eyebrow at her in a disarming way.
"Ah. Such mistrust of another's motives. I never take without asking
and I seldom have to ask," he leaned in very close, so close that his
own hair mingled with hers, "Be warned I do not convert mortals, so
don't think to gain eternal life through me."
Fluidly, he righted himself, pulling his hair through her fingers so
slowly that the motion took on an almost ual meaning. He leaned on
the back of her chair, his hands lightly touching her back. He seemed
genuinely amused by the repartee.
Nanny's face was set in a disgusted grimace. Not only a blood
drinker, but a libertine as well. Probably gave himself to men too.
How had her dearie fallen for this thing?
His face a-light with genuine curiosity, Ajali had listened intently
to the dragon's mind voice. He'd never fed from a dragon and he could
feel the magic throb in the creature's veins.
Fighting his more carnal interests away, he ventured to speak with the
thing, "It would be a pleasure to listen to your friend at the Inn.
Thank you for the invitation. I take it that you do not use a voice
to speak? I cannot count telepathy as one of my personal talents,
although I do have a few at my disposal. What exactly are you?"
[Figment]
:I'm a dragon. My vocal chords aren't set up for speaking like you-all
do but I don't need them for speaking to anyone. Nor does Robin,
though he has a nice voice and should use it. Don't even think of
biting my bard and we'll be okay. Bite him and one of us will flame
you.: He turned a glittering gold eye on the vampire. _Ajali_ didn't
know Figment wasn't flame-breathing and telling him Robin was a Fire
mage might avert any... unpleasantness. Their work in the morning with
Mage Trey had concentrated on that aspect while the other students
tried to break Lycari's mental shields - one by tickling him.
[Ajali]
The vampire softly laughed at Figment's threat, "I've been burned,
staked, cut, hung, partially flayed and worst of all, insulted,
before. As I've said, I do not bite,'" he said the word with
distaste, "Anyone without their permission and genuine participation.
Generally."
[Robin]
The rotund little man Robin had noticed earlier during the fray was
back, wandering disconsolately around the stalls. The bard modulated
into a waltz, light and sprightly, as his eyes followed the fellow
curiously. The man reached into an inner pocket and brought out a
purse to buy himself an ale, then sank down at one of the far tables.
Not a victim of the thief, then, and as he hadn't gone anywhere, not
likely the lad's father either.
[Ajali]
Humor played in Ajali's voice when he remarked, "It's too bad that you
have scales. I've never drank dragon's blood before. It could be a
new experience for both of us."
Nanny gasped. Carelya covered her mouth to hide her laughter.
[Figment]
Dragons are cold-blooded and our blood is poisonous,: Figment informed
him. :You probably wouldn't like it. And what's wrong with scales,
hey?: He preened himself a little. :Scales are always in fashion.:
[Ajali & Carelya]
"Maybe I should invest in scales for myself?" Ajali picked at his
jacket, "Are they warm? Would I look good in them?"
Carelya thought that he'd look good in anything. Nanny seemed to be
considering what he said as well, and then noticed that Carelya was
giggling at her. She huffed and turned away, trying to appear
interested in some of the other patrons taking advantage of the
overhead cover and the music while the snow fell.
"As for dragon's blood being poisonous, you may be lying to me," Ajali
persisted good naturedly, "We may both be missing something special.
I have partaken of cold blood before."
[Figment & Robin]
Well,: said Figment, apparently reluctant but with a hint of laughter
about his tone, :I'm _told_ our blood is poisonous. I've never tried
to prove it one way or the other.:
Robin was getting a little bored with being simply background music.
He hadn't even sung yet today, all the tunes had been purely
instrumental. Intricate, technically perfect, but not nearly as much
fun as letting the music take charge. His deal with the merchant had
been play for about half an hour, take five minutes off, all
afternoon. He timed it by waiting until his fingers got too cold to
play, then warmed them with his mug of tea. His fingers were now
telling him either that his half-hour was done or it was getting
colder.
As the last song in this set, he decided to sing without the luther's
accompaniment; a love song, aiming it at Carelya and her nanny both; a
poignant song that wrapped them both in a feeling like a warm blanket
and encircling arms, their nostrils scenting baking bread and spices.
As he was aiming it specifically at them, the rest of the crowd caught
only the beauty of his voice, not the all-encompassing sensory
fulfillment that the two ladies felt. When the song was done Robin
left the stage, bought another cup of tea and came back over to the
table.
[Carelya]
Carelya was entranced. Although the bard wasn't much to look at, his
music was evocative and beautiful. She wanted to take him home too.
Her life was taking a turn for the twisted, with many loops and turns:
first to find herself in charge of a beguiling vampire and now she was
becoming attracted to a musician. Nanny would have a fit! Her face
flushed with heat and she wondered how she could go about fulfilling
her whims without getting into trouble.
When the young musician sat down, Carelya broached the subject boldly
but politely, "Please sir, are you committed to working for the
merchants or on retainer to anyone? I ask only because our ranch has
lost its bard and we've been without for quite a few months. Father
thought to replace her, but other things came first and the whole
place has gone lacking. The hands are fairly game with their
instruments and voices but not a one of them could even touch your
skill."
[Robin]
Robin acknowledged her interest with a nod of thanks and replied, "I
would be able to come for brief visits should you wish it, but not as
a permanent post, I'm afraid - not yet at any rate. I am booked for
this festival every afternoon and have a loose agreement with the
landlord of the Dragon's Inn to play whenever I'm available and they
have no other minstrel. Mainly, though, it's because I'm a student at
the College of Mages here."
[Carelya]
Carelya watched as Ajali located another chair and brought it to the
table. No one at the next table argued with him. He placed it near
to Astarte, across from Carelya. Robin had sat next to Nanny Wilsy,
who didn't approve of musicians either.
The young woman nodded at Robin's statement, "Too bad. Our ranch is
way too far from here to be an easy hop. You'd need to stay for a bit
just to make the trip worthwhile. Maybe I can change your mind and
you may decide to take your holidays from College with us?"
[Figment]
:How far is 'way too far'?: Figment asked. :His lessons are flexible
and I'd like to see something other than the town for a bit. How long
by horseback? Or, in his case, dragonback.:
[Carelya]
With her brows furrowed in thought, Carelya counted the days quickly,
"It took us two and a half days by horse."
[Batista in the marketplace]
Batista had originally been enroute to find out what the disturbance
had been in the merchant's area, but she had been stopped by a
distraught fiddler by the ice skating area. And by the time she had
sorted out a tangled performing schedule she learned the problem had
been rectified.
She, however, preferred to see for herself, and started strolling to
the area in question.
"Miss Dyer!"
She looked about, and saw Fionnar waving her over. ::Is there a
problem?:: she sent. Earlier he had come to the shop to pick out a
length of delicate blue wool for his beloved, Elektra, but now she saw
him frowning at a merchant's covered stall.
"I need some further advice," he said, "I would like to get Elektra
something...a little more personal....along with the cloth, but I
don't know what. And I know she's going to say I should have saved my
coin towards our wedding day." The blond-haired elf shrugged and
added, "She would be right ...."
Probably because Batista had helped "create" Fionnar from Emmon
Filgers she found herself a bit more tolerant of him. She knew that he
was uneasy around her, but in an odd way - trusted her.
And for now that trust was safe.
::Elektra is indeed a very practical young woman,:: Batista sent; she
knew that the lawyer's apprentice strove very hard to be independent,
and that it took Morrighu and Elenia some determined maneuvering to
get her to accept a new gown. ::But she is also a young woman in
love...and despite what she says I don't think she'd find a bit of
romantic impracticality too horrible.::
"Maybe... but what to get her?"
Batista lightly took hold of his arm, and guided him over to a
merchant selling gloves. ::From what I understand, its now quite
fashionable to use gloves to express your affection. I don't think
that Elektra would find such a gift too impractical....::
The cloth merchant winked at Fionnar, and added, ::But I wouldn't
suggest going for a pair of really plain ones....::
She left him happily shopping, and continued to check with various
merchants - to see if things were to their satisfaction.
[The Merchant and the Companions in the marketplace]
Elbert Margg was arranging his wares. He wasn't happy. It wasn't his
product that made him upset; the lovely vases from Denitelli were
selling like hotcakes. His business as a cider merchant was
suffering. He didn't turn to face the problem; he really didn't want
the creature to notice him. He just wanted the thing to leave.
It was regretful that it seemed to have friends that paid for their
drinks. If the vampire had failed to ante up the money for the cider
it drank, he would be well within his rights to ask the thing to
leave. As long as the creature stayed, the other patrons didn't.
Thankfully, he had his vases, otherwise he would have gone bust a few
hours ago. The musician drew clients and the bedamned vampire scared
them off after only one drink.
Elbert fidgeted. He must head over to their table and ask the
creature to leave. Since the musician was heading home, clients would
be even harder to attract and keep even without the disadvantage of
having a vampire sitting at one of his tables. When he spotted Miss
Dyer threading her way through the thinning crowd and the falling
snow, he heaved a sigh of relief. Reinforcements were at hand. He'd
have to make sure that he spoke to her about the practicality of
allowing dark creatures the run of the market.
Fingering his scrawny beard, Elbert wended his way through his tables.
Upon reaching the group in question, he halted for a brief moment to
bolster his courage. He was about to face down a darkwalker and chase
it off. The opportunity didn't thrill him. Every possibility existed
that the thing would come after him later in revenge.
Nanny Wilsy became aware that someone was standing at her back almost
instantly. "Well, young man," she rasped in her old lady's voice,
"What is it? Don't just stand there like a post, speak up!"
Elbert dropped the napkin he was holding for moral support and bent
down to pick it up. That gave him time to arrange his thoughts. Upon
righting himself once more, he had his plan down pat.
With a little bow, he began, "Kind ladies," his eyes slipped to Nanny
who glared at him, "And gentlemen. I have a problem that you might
help me with."
All faces were turned to him, even the vampire's. Elbert faltered in
his speech, gathered his bravado and continued, "I am having a problem
with my clientele. They are not staying to drink more."
Enlightenment didn't seem to appear on any of the faces at the table.
Except for perhaps one; the vampire's lips quirked at the corners, but
it said nothing. Elbert shivered and tore his eyes away from it.
"Why are they leaving?" a young girl asked, "Robin's music is beyond
wonderful."
Elbert swallowed, "They are afraid of your friend."
Carelya gave him a guileless look, "Figment doesn't bite."
Ajali snorted and then ran a pale finger through a watermark on the
table, smearing liquid across the wooden finish, "He wants me to
leave."
"Why?" Carelya asked innocently.
"Figment may not bite, but I do," Ajali replied, "I'm frightening off
his customers."
Elbert nodded quickly, his eyes flicking from one face to another.
They finally locked on the vampire and despite his every effort, he
couldn't look away. The chatter generated by his unspoken request
faded into background noise; the vampire's blue eyes held him as
tightly as a closed fist.
The merchant had to admit, the creature was beautiful. The long blond
hair was thick and shiny, glinting with faint reddish highlights.
Fine arched brows brought out the long lashed startlingly blue eyes.
Its face had high cheekbones and an aristocratic cast. Strangely the
vampire appealed to him in a ual way, even though he was not, nor
ever had been one to enjoy the pleasures of catamites or men. He
blushed and the damned thing smiled at a secret only the two of them
knew. Finally the creature allowed him to avert his eyes.
Elbert gasped. The hum of conversation returned.
"But we're not doing anything wrong!" Carelya was protesting.
Ajali broke into the discussion, "Actually I would appreciate a chance
to rest. If I am to see Robin's performance later tonight, I really
should sleep. I am up far past my bedtime."
Carelya wasn't about to let it go so easily. Nanny moaned with the
tone of the long suffering.
"No," she stated, "I'm not about to back down on this without a
fight."
Elbert stiffened his spine and yanked hard on his beard in annoyance,
"If I have to get the Guard to remove you, I will!"
The girl ignored the fingers Ajali laid on her arm and pressed on,
"This is the second time my friend has been accused of doing something
wrong by just living," she hesitated, "Sort of living. He's given no
one any reason for this treatment. Where do you find cause to throw
us out? We've been quiet, we've been excellent customers and we've
bothered no one."
"I can't keep any other customers while he's here," Elbert whined.
Carelya left her chair and tramped around to stand directly in front
of the merchant.
"That isn't our problem!"
"No," Elbert fired back, "Your friend is my problem! You are leaving.
Now."
He made the mistake of grabbing Carelya's arm prior to frog-marching
her out of the canopied area. Suddenly he was sitting on his rump in
front of his precious vases, every one of them teetering dangerously
with the force of his landing. Over him stood the vampire, eyes
blazing with affront.
"Do not touch her!" came the low velvet purr of challenge.
[Batista in the marketplace]
One of the jewelers had pointed out the path the tent's owner had
taken, and Batista had strolled nearer to observe. ~Fighting ghouls is
much easier than handling some of these merchants,~ she decided. And
again wondered what perverse aspect of her nature demanded she
organize the winter festivities.
Carefully she smoothed her deep green cloak, straightened her matching
gloves - and prepared several useful matrixes. One of which was a hold
over from Company briefings regarding the Church's vampiric Grand
Inquisitor; a handsome idea for double matrix - focus on exploding the
cells and bone structure at the neck, which would decapitate the
creature, and follow it with setting the rest of the body's cell
structure afire. The dramatic end of the Church of the Redeemer had
negated the need to take out Blayne, and Batista had always been
rather eager to test the matrix.
Probably not today, though.
She stepped over, and firmly sent, ::What is going on here?::
[Robin & Figment]
Figment was hissing at the merchant, extending talons his way. He'd
swelled up to roughly horse-size, abruptly shoving a couple of people
aside by doing so and now stood just behind the vampire and almost
astride Carelya. Robin had jumped down off the stage and was now
humming almost subliminally, a soothing harmonic to quell any panic
from the eagerly but carefully watching customers.
"The cider merchant appears to believe his interests are the only
thing that matter," said Robin aloud. To himself he ruefully wondered
whether the afternoon's incident was going to end up with his having
to take a permanent post on the girl's ranch after all. "And he was
rude enough to try to force the lady and her party to leave even
though they've paid for their drinks and were merely chatting amongst
themselves."
[Ajali & Carelya]
The new person was female, Ajali noted. He said nothing. He was too
angry and his eyes were again blood red. Fortunately Carelya had
recovered from her shock and recognized the woman.
"Miss Dyer," she piped up, "This merchant and I were having a
disagreement over my party leaving when he seized my arm rather
roughly. I'm afraid that I am to blame for this. I should have let
things go, but I got angry that he would seek to throw us out because
of my friend's lifestyle. Ajali made the merchant let me go."
The red in the vampire's eyes faded to flecks and he perversely
offered the merchant a hand up. The man shrank back in terror and
Ajali shrugged.
"Get up yourself, then," the hint of impending violence lingered in
his tone.
His inflection marked him for a foreigner, as did his garb; ill-suited
as it was to the climate, with the exception of a warm-looking jacket.
An aura of age and power clung to him, intertwined with pain and
unending death. It clashed with his looks which at this time
approached a childish innocence, all feigned most probably. Creatures
like this were as moral as jackals.
[Batista]
Batista listened to the garble of stories, and held out her hand to
the merchant. ::By rights,:: she sent so all could hear, ::A property
owner can ask anyone to leave, and while diplomacy would dictate some
explanation, it is not required. And he has the right to escort those
reluctant to comply out.::
"He told them why," one of the remaining customers added. The elder
woman had only remained because she had _paid_ for her cider, and her
feet ached.
To the merchant, Batista added, ::Though in cases like this it is
better to send for the guard.
She eyed the girl and her defenders. The girl's family had come in
during Montfort's rebuilding - making good use of the depressed land
prices to buy up one of the derelict outer farms. Harmless enough, but
the girl was quite spoiled. It was far easier to deal with the likes
of Kisa, Paevel, Niathina, or Elektra and Elenia...those who had
survived deep adversity; children no longer.
::Montfort had a plague of vampires,:: Batista sent, ::Long before you
came here, but people remember too well that vampirism helped destroy
one of the old families here......If I remember correctly....their
ranch was only a mile or two from yours. Most won't go near it - they
say the darkness still taints the soil.::
She looked over to Ajali, and smiled. A smile that did not reach her
green eyes. ::A word of advice.....if you see any garbed in gray I
would stay well clear of them. Their magic shuns the undead, and there
are some who have even stronger reasons.:: Safer that way - while
Jehne and Melida would only know the threads she wasn't sure
how Geiren or Morrighu would react - for they had been deeply wronged
by Blayne. As for Kitrina....she might not raise the threads against a
vampire, but she would no far too well that vampires were death to a
Politi mage.
[Ajali & Carelya]
Ajali knew nothing of Montfort's troubles and cared not a whit. His
peregrinations had taken him many places, sometimes he had been forced
out by frightened villagers, other times he had left of his own
accord; simply disappearing from the lives of people who loved him.
He had been the cause of much death and sorrow, nearly as much as he
himself felt on occasion.
Carelya looked down at her feet, properly abashed, "I said it was all
my fault. Ajali wanted to leave and I pressed the matter. We had
already been accosted by a carpenter in the alley and thankfully the
sheriff intervened." A bit of her fire returned, "What gives people
the right to decide whether or not another is good enough to sit in a
public place, Miss Dyer?"
Before Batista had a chance to reply, Carelya continued, wringing her
hands with nothing other than righteous anger, "I feel bad that
Montfort has suffered. I really do! My family came for two reasons,
first to ranch and second to help stabilize the economy after the
Troubles. Father had a thriving business in the East but he felt
bound to settle here. One of his prime investors died here. Father
invested all of his considerable funds in the ranch and the town. He
was one of the anonymous donors who gave money to help rebuild."
She wilted visibly under Batista's stare.
Ajali, however, had not. Leaving the merchant to his own devices, the
vampire padded closer, nearly silent in his soaked silken slippers.
They squished with water. A feeling of relaxation emanated from him;
ease and something else much more seductive. And dangerous.
"I am new here," he said, "My interest lies only in seeing new places
and finding a place to stay for a while. I do not seek trouble. So
far it has sought me and found me. I apologize for the upset. I do
not apologize for making the merchant let Carelya go. He has no right
to manhandle a woman as he did. I will not press the issue, however."
He went and stood with the girl, who felt for his hand. The vampire
allowed her to take it, like a well-trained pet dog. How could the
girl know that she held not a dog on a leash, but a tiger by a thread?
[Batista]
::Its always healthy to keep certain realities in mind,:: Batista
sent, though it was hard to tell if she was addressing it to Carelya
or to Ajali, ::It keeps some problems at a minimum.::
She studied the vampire, and added, particularly so the nanny would
"hear," ::My recommendation would be to try the Rathskeller or the
Coliseum for your 'dinner' - the girls' previous master was quite
demanding, and they're very used to the exotic. And I don't think
anything shocks the owner of the Rathskeller.::
[Astarte]
Astarte had merely tilted her chair out the way of the excitement and
finished her tea. However her eyes had hardly left the vampire and
the girl he protected. Very fast, she thought, swilling the dregs in
her mug. She emptied it and walked carefully round the confrontation
to stand next to Robin and Figment.
"A curse on me if I should let a child of mine into a place like this
without knowing what she might come across," she said, quietly.
"She's totally under his spell. The Gods only know what will happen
when her father sees this stray she is undoubtedly going to want to
take home. I just hope he doesn't react along the lines of torches
and pitchforks. No doubt he wants a good marriage for her."
[Ajali & Carelya]
"I'll keep that in mind," the vampire told Batista, "I won't deprive
him of the services of his women often, I hope."
He turned an affectionate smile on the girl at his side --- or was it
possessive? It was hard to tell. It wasn't hard to understand what
one of his powers was. He led Carelya back to the table.
"I would very much like to hear you tonight, sir bard," he said, "But
if I get no sleep, I will not be worth a penny to anyone. Daylight
harms me no, but it does tire me terribly."
Carelya gave them all a sunny smile, "I'll take him to the Inn. He
can stay in one of our rooms." To Ajali she added, "Surely you won't
be any trouble there. After all, I only use my own room at night. If
need be, you can stay there during the day and no one will bother
you."
"Hope does spring eternal," he said as she took his arm as escort
again.
[Robin & Figment]
Her father's already seen him," said Robin soberly. "They were the
cause of the ruckus that led to the little thief being corralled. He
didn't seem to mind what his daughter had in hand. Though, I don't
know if he knows what went on behind his back in here." He gestured to
the little curtained alcove. "I'd best get back to work," he added.
The cider merchant wasn't his employer, the cloak merchant was and was
nodding at the stage again. Clearly he didn't care what his bard did
while drinking his tea as long as he got back on stage afterwards.
Though Robin didn't see that he'd done anything wrong; after all, he'd
bought a newcomer a drink and used his skills to try to mitigate any
damage done, that was all.
He passed by Batista on his way back to the stage and paused, giving
her a little bow. "A pleasure to see you again, Mistress Dyer. You've
done your usual wonderful job in creating commerce out of chaos. Would
you be my guest sometime for a pleasant evening at the Inn?"
:Hey, Batista baby!: said Figment. :Nice threads. Heard the latest
news? Our bard's gone back to school.:
[Batista]
::Thank you, Master Figment,:: she sent, with her usually cool smile
on her lips, ::I had heard something of it - I think he will be a fine
addition to the college.::
With a graceful tilt of her head to Robin she added, ::I thank you -
on both counts. Unfortunately, my schedule of late precludes such
entertainments - pleasant as they would be.::
Batista looked over the remaining folk and added, ::I hope you have a
more peaceful afternoon.:: Her polite expression didn't change - she
could just as easily been giving a tourist directions. ::Yes, I think
the Rathskeller would suit your needs admirably - a very exclusive
establishment...Mister Aethyr has a standing order for silk. Though I
wouldn't recommend Wild Nelly's - Nelly is very protective of her
girls.::
[Ajali & Carelya]
As Carelya held his arm dotingly, Ajali steered her towards the alley
and its snowy safety. He stopped before he put a toe out into the
chilly white carpet.
Over his shoulder he said, "She shouldn't worry about me. I'd only
want to borrow one."
Abruptly Carelya whirled, "Mistress Batista? May we come by your shop
tomorrow? Silk is a bit skimpy for Montfort at this time of year
don't you think?"
[Genovese at the Dragon's Inn]
His dusty cloak put aside for other more elegant attire, Genovese
railed at the disreputable elf sitting across from him.
"What do you mean, Engst is dead? He's the best. Gored by a bull?
Impossible!"
The elf dumped the ale down his throat, "That's what the chippies all
said. But then they were all hiding in case the guard came."
Genovese leaned back in his chair, "My reward still stands then.
Bring me that pale man and get the horse from him."
When the elf stared past him without speaking, Genovese turned around
to see what had caught his attention. A girl had entered on the arm
of a ---- vampire?
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