Shiva sits up as Elodia begins to speak, releasing Ling but staying close to her. "Yeah, this is all of us. We'd welcome anything that could help us take that ***** out, as we've recently learned that any attention from her is bad news. And I couldn't help but notice your accent, you're from Breanne? I'm a little shocked to think that their influence extends that far."
Elodia turns her attention fully to Shiva, her doll-like face a mask. Though her long golden curls and pale skin aren't necessarily the hallmark of Beaufort, there had always been the very real possibility her accent would give her Breannian roots away. "I am," she says slowly. All of them? It couldn't be. But then where were the others? "But their influence there isn't what troubles me. Piotrgrad is my home now." A careful smile returns to her lips even as she examines the blue tiefling, scanning for signs of aggression. "I left Breanne far behind me for a reason, as I assume did you."
Astrid slides up onto one of the chairs and looks over Ling's new friend as she grabs a drink from the tray. Another fling for Ling, it seems? Amused, she chuckles inwardly. "Hi there. I'm Astrid." She takes a sip from her mug and sits back to relax from their morning outing. She reaches into her pack and places her tools on the table to busy herself with tinkering with her clock as she also halfway listens to the rest converse.
She pauses in her work for another sip and to focus in on the accent of Elodia. Not being one that is current on the reach of Breanne culture, she doesn't second guess Shiva, but does add, "She does has a familiar way of speaking." She places a finger to her chin and taps, going through those that she has encountered since her time in Piotrgrad. "Sounds pretty close to the one from the tavern below ground," she announces bluntly.
"Yes, I did. The prospect of being torn apart by Camwen Guard facilitated a swift exit. I hope that your departure was not as urgent." Shiva smiles softly, but her eyes are trained on the beauty before her.
As Astrid points out the similarity in accents, Shiva's eyebrows shoot up in recognition. "That's very true, Astrid. I believe it's from Beaufort, yes? While the smile remains, her eyes narrow in suspicion.
"A different sort of urgency, but an urgency all the same," she replies unflinchingly, looking between Astrid and Shiva. "I'm truly sorry to hear of the nature of yours." Her smile doesn't drop at the comparisons, though it no longer quite reaches her eyes. "It is. The pair of you have quite an ear. When I'd hoped to meet with you, I'll admit I didn't expect such an interest in Breanne."
Shiva maintains her polite manner, but her tone slowly becomes sharper as she speaks. "Well, I so rarely have the opportunity to converse with fellow Breannians, especially ones so beautiful. I'm unaware of how much you know of me, do you know what I was called at the time that I fled Breanne?"
Ling sports a mischievous smile when everyone enters. "My mistake, I guess they weren't upstairs after all." Shiva's unusually emotional greeting is met with some confusion, but she decides to ignore it and focus on introductions. "This is Elodia, she claims to have some information that would help us against our new favourite red-headed enemy." Ling sits back and waits to see how everyone reacts to her new acquaintance.
"I thought *I* was your favorite redhead," Alaris mock-pouts in a sad drawl.
Nimue watches curiously, and gracefully drops herself into a chair next to the paladin, hanging her bag over the back of the chair. What did Caio say the name was? Alaris? She leans back in her chair. "Alaris, was it?" She offers a gentle and coy smile, before gazing back out over the scene before her. The noblewoman immediately catches her eye, as does the slender Tiefling sitting with her. Hm. What a strange gathering. Her smile tightens. Will this be worth it? Use them for what I need and then leave? Her eyes drift over to the tiefling she had been speaking with earlier. Perhaps it would be worth it to stick around. What do you think, Grandmama? Silence fills her head, and she chuckles under her breath. Nothing to say? That's a first.
She turns her attention to Alaris, and glances towards the tray of drinks. "May I?"
"Help yourself," the paladin gestures towards the drinks, where a glass of dark red wine waits unclaimed. "I hope it is to your taste. I had to guess, but it seemed to be a warrior's wine." Alaris peers over the rim of their own mug at Elodia while conversing with Nimue. Ling always makes interesting acquaintances, but they're not always friendly...
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Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
"Help yourself," the paladin gestures towards the drinks, where a glass of dark red wine waits unclaimed. "I hope it is to your taste. I had to guess, but it seemed to be a warrior's wine." Alaris peers over the rim of their own mug at Elodia while conversing with Nimue. Ling always makes interesting acquaintances, but they're not always friendly...
Nimue nods to Alaris. "It'll do just fine. Used to drink a lot stronger back home. Before...." she trails off mid-sentence, a memory of a young girl standing atop a hill, waiting for her family to come home, rising to the forefront of her mind. She takes a sip of the wine, and nods appreciatively. "Relax. You don't have a clear head when you're tense." She smiles at Alaris. "Thank you, for your...kindness. I've not been to Piotrgrad before, and it's nice to be met with friendly faces, even unfamiliar ones." She raises her glass in a small salute and takes another sip.
Nikolai is slower to join the others, giving them a little space as they filed into the Black Sheep. He wasn’t feeling particularly jovial at the moment and some of the cool air might help. He needed to be calm for his talk with Alaris, he had already snarled at them once today and as usual... he was left to pick up the shattered pieces. All of them were broken in their own way. Nikolai smiles as he looks upon his own collection of broken things; the cracked ring of jet upon his finger, the ancient Dwarven pistol he had converted, the scorched and blade less sword hilt, and his ‘lucky’ coin from Breanne.
He was a collector of broken things and people. He would collect them and then fix them. And then maybe one day when all of them were fixed, maybe then... they could fix him. He sighed heavily staring up at the sky. ‘Why do we do it, Shahar?’
’Because we can. They need us. More than they realize. It’s a selfless job, but we do it because we must.’
’You’re insufferable.’
Nikolai sighs again before heading into the Black Sheep. He loves this place. If ever such a place could be called home, this was it. He wanted to buy one of the rooms and live out his life here. There were the archives nearby, Alaris could find a way to get him access... he could waste away the days reading and learning and drinking... but that was not his destiny. He knew as much. He felt that pang of jealousy at the stupid fools going about their daily lives completely oblivious to everything going on around them. He pauses as he spots a woman seated next to Ling and he approaches cautiously, recalling the previous evening. “Who is the new friend, Ling?”
"You were, but now you're only a half-enemy at best, sorry." Ling retorts, sticking her tongue out. She eyes the unknown elf at Alaris' side, but decide to ask about that new stray later. Alaris had a habit of collecting people in need, so maybe this was just temporary. Hopefully. The dwarf was more than she could deal with for now.
She lets out an audible sigh when Astrid draws the connection, looking up at the ceiling. Speak of the devil. As the conversation between Shivala and Elodia turns more tens, she interjects: "Yes Astrid, aren't we glad to have you. She's Francesc's wife, there. Don't rip her head off Shiva, thanks." Despite sounding annoyed, Ling pats Shiva's hand, half to reassure her, half to have something to grab in case the temperamental tiefling launches herself straight across the table. You never knew with Shivala.
Her eyes light up when Nikolai finally makes his way over. "Nik! How did things go? This is Elodia, she's Francesc's wife, she says she has information to bring down the *****y one," Ling sums up in a rapid-fire manner, pleased with herself for having found information. She also draws his gaze towards her jewellery, lifting her eyebrows briefly as if to say: "and if that fails, we can always rob her."
Nikolai stops very short as Ling spits out all that information rapid-fire. "Elodia, huh. I would say it's a pleasure, but given your choice of partners it is not." He looks to Ling, clearly dismissing the well-dressed woman. "What is she doing here?"
"Having a drink?" Ling offers. "She says he didn't send her. I thought I'd wait to see what you think before I... make any decisions." She grins and adds: "At least she's pretty?"
Nikolai takes a moment to look over Elodia. "Indeed, but looks do not account for everything. So, she just happened to wander in here for a drink, spotted you and decided you were good company. Not that you aren't good company, darling, but I imagine she's here for something else. Especially if you say she has already indicated her husband has not sent her to us." He now seems to be addressing her directly. "Tell me, dear, for what exactly did you come here?"
Shiva's body goes rigid as Ling validates her suspicion, her face becoming stoic in frustration. "Wife. Charming."Her voice is strained, but composed. "Well, I'm less inclined to run him through after my last exchange with him, but I neither trust nor like the man. And the presence of the beautiful young Madame could suggest any number of ulterior motives. Unless you just want to be straight with us, Mrs.Bull? Shiva's body language is growing more and more tense, denoting something roiling beneath the surface.
As the conversation becomes more and more tense, Nimue shifts in her seat, slightly uncomfortable with the change in tone. She'd never been to Breanne, hadn't ever seen the need. And all the clues she had uncovered so far brought her nowhere near the place. Clearly this group had sone history with this woman's husband, and it did not seem to be good. She sips her wine, content for now to watch the show.
Noticing Nimue's discomfort, Caio offers a shrug. He raises his hand above his head, mimicking Astrid's earlier gesture. "We did warn you." he whispers.
Nimue laughs, remembering the joke. "Well, you haven't scared me away yet." She offers a slight smile to him, pushing her initial discomfort to the back of her mind.
Elodia watches the scene unfold patiently, letting the responses to her choice in bedfellow cycle through. You certainly did not make us friends, my love, she muses, lips pressed into a line as she sees the collective neutrality bloom into something nearly hostile. They are a strange group, this far-from Trio Infernale; an intriguing cacophony of emotions and colors all painted in a sweeping gradient of indifference to vitriol. And it all seems to coalesce in shades of blue.
Her gaze lifts toward the final addition, Nikolai - the ostensible leader, yet so quick to dismiss her - before doing the same in kind, looking to Shiva. “Señora del Toro, if we’re to be formal. Though I like to think we can still be friends.” She looks back between Shiva and Nikolai, folding her hands atop the table in a sign of goodwill. “I never claimed to not have come here for a purpose - only that it wasn’t at my husband’s behest. As I’ve told Ling, he and I...disagree when it comes on how best to achieve a goal. Though that doesn't stop me from doing what I think is best." She smiles thinly despite the sharp edge to the air. "And I believe that's working with you. The enemy of my enemy is, I hope." An eyebrow lifts. "My friend."
She lets out an audible sigh when Astrid draws the connection, looking up at the ceiling. Speak of the devil. As the conversation between Shivala and Elodia turns more tens, she interjects: "Yes Astrid, aren't we glad to have you. She's Francesc's wife, there. Don't rip her head off Shiva, thanks." Despite sounding annoyed, ...
Astrid snaps her head towards Ling. "Oh, well. You're welcome," she replies shooting the tiefling a glare. She takes another drink from her mug, larger this time, and shakes her head muttering something. With a long exhale, she returns to her tinkering.
"Oh, my deepest apologies, Señora del Toro." Shiva puts on a mock air of reverence, bowing her head. "So what would "working with us" entail?" She now speaks through gritted teeth.
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Shiva sits up as Elodia begins to speak, releasing Ling but staying close to her. "Yeah, this is all of us. We'd welcome anything that could help us take that ***** out, as we've recently learned that any attention from her is bad news. And I couldn't help but notice your accent, you're from Breanne? I'm a little shocked to think that their influence extends that far."
Elodia turns her attention fully to Shiva, her doll-like face a mask. Though her long golden curls and pale skin aren't necessarily the hallmark of Beaufort, there had always been the very real possibility her accent would give her Breannian roots away. "I am," she says slowly. All of them? It couldn't be. But then where were the others? "But their influence there isn't what troubles me. Piotrgrad is my home now." A careful smile returns to her lips even as she examines the blue tiefling, scanning for signs of aggression. "I left Breanne far behind me for a reason, as I assume did you."
Astrid slides up onto one of the chairs and looks over Ling's new friend as she grabs a drink from the tray. Another fling for Ling, it seems? Amused, she chuckles inwardly. "Hi there. I'm Astrid." She takes a sip from her mug and sits back to relax from their morning outing. She reaches into her pack and places her tools on the table to busy herself with tinkering with her clock as she also halfway listens to the rest converse.
She pauses in her work for another sip and to focus in on the accent of Elodia. Not being one that is current on the reach of Breanne culture, she doesn't second guess Shiva, but does add, "She does has a familiar way of speaking." She places a finger to her chin and taps, going through those that she has encountered since her time in Piotrgrad. "Sounds pretty close to the one from the tavern below ground," she announces bluntly.
"Yes, I did. The prospect of being torn apart by Camwen Guard facilitated a swift exit. I hope that your departure was not as urgent." Shiva smiles softly, but her eyes are trained on the beauty before her.
As Astrid points out the similarity in accents, Shiva's eyebrows shoot up in recognition. "That's very true, Astrid. I believe it's from Beaufort, yes? While the smile remains, her eyes narrow in suspicion.
"A different sort of urgency, but an urgency all the same," she replies unflinchingly, looking between Astrid and Shiva. "I'm truly sorry to hear of the nature of yours." Her smile doesn't drop at the comparisons, though it no longer quite reaches her eyes. "It is. The pair of you have quite an ear. When I'd hoped to meet with you, I'll admit I didn't expect such an interest in Breanne."
Shiva maintains her polite manner, but her tone slowly becomes sharper as she speaks. "Well, I so rarely have the opportunity to converse with fellow Breannians, especially ones so beautiful. I'm unaware of how much you know of me, do you know what I was called at the time that I fled Breanne?"
"I thought *I* was your favorite redhead," Alaris mock-pouts in a sad drawl.
"Help yourself," the paladin gestures towards the drinks, where a glass of dark red wine waits unclaimed. "I hope it is to your taste. I had to guess, but it seemed to be a warrior's wine." Alaris peers over the rim of their own mug at Elodia while conversing with Nimue. Ling always makes interesting acquaintances, but they're not always friendly...
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Nimue nods to Alaris. "It'll do just fine. Used to drink a lot stronger back home. Before...." she trails off mid-sentence, a memory of a young girl standing atop a hill, waiting for her family to come home, rising to the forefront of her mind. She takes a sip of the wine, and nods appreciatively. "Relax. You don't have a clear head when you're tense." She smiles at Alaris. "Thank you, for your...kindness. I've not been to Piotrgrad before, and it's nice to be met with friendly faces, even unfamiliar ones." She raises her glass in a small salute and takes another sip.
Nikolai is slower to join the others, giving them a little space as they filed into the Black Sheep. He wasn’t feeling particularly jovial at the moment and some of the cool air might help. He needed to be calm for his talk with Alaris, he had already snarled at them once today and as usual... he was left to pick up the shattered pieces. All of them were broken in their own way. Nikolai smiles as he looks upon his own collection of broken things; the cracked ring of jet upon his finger, the ancient Dwarven pistol he had converted, the scorched and blade less sword hilt, and his ‘lucky’ coin from Breanne.
He was a collector of broken things and people. He would collect them and then fix them. And then maybe one day when all of them were fixed, maybe then... they could fix him. He sighed heavily staring up at the sky. ‘Why do we do it, Shahar?’
’Because we can. They need us. More than they realize. It’s a selfless job, but we do it because we must.’
’You’re insufferable.’
Nikolai sighs again before heading into the Black Sheep. He loves this place. If ever such a place could be called home, this was it. He wanted to buy one of the rooms and live out his life here. There were the archives nearby, Alaris could find a way to get him access... he could waste away the days reading and learning and drinking... but that was not his destiny. He knew as much. He felt that pang of jealousy at the stupid fools going about their daily lives completely oblivious to everything going on around them.
He pauses as he spots a woman seated next to Ling and he approaches cautiously, recalling the previous evening. “Who is the new friend, Ling?”
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
"You were, but now you're only a half-enemy at best, sorry." Ling retorts, sticking her tongue out. She eyes the unknown elf at Alaris' side, but decide to ask about that new stray later. Alaris had a habit of collecting people in need, so maybe this was just temporary. Hopefully. The dwarf was more than she could deal with for now.
She lets out an audible sigh when Astrid draws the connection, looking up at the ceiling. Speak of the devil. As the conversation between Shivala and Elodia turns more tens, she interjects: "Yes Astrid, aren't we glad to have you. She's Francesc's wife, there. Don't rip her head off Shiva, thanks." Despite sounding annoyed, Ling pats Shiva's hand, half to reassure her, half to have something to grab in case the temperamental tiefling launches herself straight across the table. You never knew with Shivala.
Her eyes light up when Nikolai finally makes his way over. "Nik! How did things go? This is Elodia, she's Francesc's wife, she says she has information to bring down the *****y one," Ling sums up in a rapid-fire manner, pleased with herself for having found information. She also draws his gaze towards her jewellery, lifting her eyebrows briefly as if to say: "and if that fails, we can always rob her."
Nikolai stops very short as Ling spits out all that information rapid-fire. "Elodia, huh. I would say it's a pleasure, but given your choice of partners it is not." He looks to Ling, clearly dismissing the well-dressed woman. "What is she doing here?"
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
"Having a drink?" Ling offers. "She says he didn't send her. I thought I'd wait to see what you think before I... make any decisions." She grins and adds: "At least she's pretty?"
Nikolai takes a moment to look over Elodia. "Indeed, but looks do not account for everything. So, she just happened to wander in here for a drink, spotted you and decided you were good company. Not that you aren't good company, darling, but I imagine she's here for something else. Especially if you say she has already indicated her husband has not sent her to us." He now seems to be addressing her directly. "Tell me, dear, for what exactly did you come here?"
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
Shiva's body goes rigid as Ling validates her suspicion, her face becoming stoic in frustration. "Wife. Charming." Her voice is strained, but composed. "Well, I'm less inclined to run him through after my last exchange with him, but I neither trust nor like the man. And the presence of the beautiful young Madame could suggest any number of ulterior motives. Unless you just want to be straight with us, Mrs.Bull? Shiva's body language is growing more and more tense, denoting something roiling beneath the surface.
As the conversation becomes more and more tense, Nimue shifts in her seat, slightly uncomfortable with the change in tone. She'd never been to Breanne, hadn't ever seen the need. And all the clues she had uncovered so far brought her nowhere near the place. Clearly this group had sone history with this woman's husband, and it did not seem to be good. She sips her wine, content for now to watch the show.
Noticing Nimue's discomfort, Caio offers a shrug. He raises his hand above his head, mimicking Astrid's earlier gesture. "We did warn you." he whispers.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Nimue laughs, remembering the joke. "Well, you haven't scared me away yet." She offers a slight smile to him, pushing her initial discomfort to the back of her mind.
Elodia watches the scene unfold patiently, letting the responses to her choice in bedfellow cycle through. You certainly did not make us friends, my love, she muses, lips pressed into a line as she sees the collective neutrality bloom into something nearly hostile. They are a strange group, this far-from Trio Infernale; an intriguing cacophony of emotions and colors all painted in a sweeping gradient of indifference to vitriol. And it all seems to coalesce in shades of blue.
Her gaze lifts toward the final addition, Nikolai - the ostensible leader, yet so quick to dismiss her - before doing the same in kind, looking to Shiva. “Señora del Toro, if we’re to be formal. Though I like to think we can still be friends.” She looks back between Shiva and Nikolai, folding her hands atop the table in a sign of goodwill. “I never claimed to not have come here for a purpose - only that it wasn’t at my husband’s behest. As I’ve told Ling, he and I...disagree when it comes on how best to achieve a goal. Though that doesn't stop me from doing what I think is best." She smiles thinly despite the sharp edge to the air. "And I believe that's working with you. The enemy of my enemy is, I hope." An eyebrow lifts. "My friend."
Astrid snaps her head towards Ling. "Oh, well. You're welcome," she replies shooting the tiefling a glare. She takes another drink from her mug, larger this time, and shakes her head muttering something. With a long exhale, she returns to her tinkering.
"Oh, my deepest apologies, Señora del Toro." Shiva puts on a mock air of reverence, bowing her head. "So what would "working with us" entail?" She now speaks through gritted teeth.