act complete Angelcynn: The Myrcian Conflict - Act 3 Reunion

[Terrador]

The mooncalf studies his pet for a moment, pondering Emmet's question. Eventually, he finds his answer in the fog.

"Nah. 'e's been messed up for a bit; I'd be righ' surprised if 'e woke up tonight, even if all went well with Perroy. Couldn' tell you anythin' about 'im as a healer, either. Th'way I figure, it's outta my hands, has been since we got back." The crowd's presence silenced any thought of mentioning that world. Their jeering, cheering, taunts... those put aside the desire. His sweet boy, he lapped at the mead like a grown man. The night was young. The voices of friendly strangers cocooned him, drawing him out of his own life and into this brief paradise.

Angus holds up three fingers--soon enough, three more flagons found their way to the table. The baron shoves one to Emmet with a wink, a wink that asked "why not join us?", even with the answer sitting at that very table. Angus, however, takes to his feet, flagon soaring above his head.

"T'all us crazy bastards what're still kickin'!", the mooncalf hollers, deluging himself with tasty, tasty poison. The room swam, and Angus plummeted onto his rear, laughing at the marvel of how such a furry thing could sit like a man...

At least, until the booze kicked in.

Angus +1 Mead
Geoffrey +1 Mead (please don't drink Emmet's too, bud)

[Jotari]

Emmet could hardly blame the baron's desire to avoid responsibility. He felt the exact same way. Emmet had been the one tending to Sir Nelon throughout much of the journey. Utilizing every thing he knew about herbology, sewing and stave work to keep the man alive. As soon as they reached Magon he had promptly abandoned the problem and left someone else to deal with it. And then I got shot for my troubles. He mused. Perhaps that was Engel's punishment for me. Still, can't say I regret anything. Who knows where the vial and Miss Claire would be now if I didn't turn up when I did. The thoughts of the battle compelled him to subtly check for the weapon he had under his cloak. Pinaka was still having work done to it but he had found his spare Iron Bow and hid it on his person at the first opportunity. It was quite a few inches bigger than Pinaka and didn't fit nearly as snugly, especially sitting down, but it still brought great comfort to him knowing it was there.

Emmet found a tankard of Mead placed in front of him. "Ah. You're welcome" he muttered to Angus. His wine glass was empty but he didn't particularly like the idea of swapping beverages. Then again wine was stronger so he was probably safe. Not since his brother Vincent had first gotten him drunk half a lifetime ago. He raised his drink and smiled. "Bottoms up" he said to both Angus and the crowd before raising the tankard and downing it as quick as he could. When he was done he let out a gasp. Either the wine was weaker than he thought or the mead was stronger. Either way it hit is system a lot quicker. "I've had a rough day. Let's get hammered" he declared.

Emmet +1 Mead

Edited October 23, 2016 by Jotari

[Shin]

Do the Scuttlebug

Sebastian smirked, Scuttle always had a way of making the normal seem strange... and the strange seem even stranger. "I'm afraid a certain sorcerer was a slightly higher priority. The library would have been a perfect place to say hello, but I assumed you were a little busy then also." he replied, trying to make sure that Susan hadn't resurfaced. "It's not all fun and games or serving tea. My training wasn't complete when Master Javier passed, there's still a lot that I don't know. Duke Herman says that I need to work on adding milk, I'm yet to get it to his tastes. My knife work is improving, although ruffians are a little easier to slice than his favourite cheese."

It was a bit of a longshot, but tensions would remain high in the group until something was addressed. "Now that you've decided that our allies don't requires arrows in their shins, I think there's a bar which is one bard short, don't you think? I'm sure the villagers haven't heard any of your stories, perhaps they have a few you could... improve."

A Nono from Nona

Nona laughed as Cass barely avoided losing her drink to the floor. "It's a special little something that the bartender made up for me, Princess. I would avoid it if I were you, it's a bit too strong for someone like you." Nona replied, knowing her own tolerance was far higher than Cass' could possibly be. "You might have a better time with someone a little more mild, maybe you could ask the bartender if he could water down your next one?"

Seeing Cass so silly was an amusing prospect for Nona, she'd always thought that the royals needed to be prim and proper. Maybe she wasn't as stuck up and bratty as everyone said she was? If anything, she was a lot like Morta, although probably a little more spoiled and less angry.

"I'm surprised you aren't drinking with Angus, Princess." Nona mused, wondering why the engaged couple seemed to spend so much time apart. "If I were going to marry him, I'd prefer if he were drinking with me instead of a bear."

[Dandragon]

"Charlotte? Thought her name was Sidney? ...Eh, whatever." Serge took one last drink of his cider, which emptied his cup. Setting his glass down, he wondered if he should have another drink, but decided against it. He felt himself on the edge of getting drunk, and another cider might leave himself incapacitated for the rest of the night, or at the very least useless. "So...how are you doing tonight, then? Is the wine good?" He asked Sidney, or Charlotte, or however she preferred to call herself.

[riariadne]

"See, I told you earlier, everything would be fiiine," Sidney spoke to Claire, sipping quickly at her wine almost as soon as she sat down. "If only each evening could be so fun! Drinks or no drinks, this is all sooo much better than fighting or dealing with mysteries." The table had enough people buzzing around that she was a bit caught off guard as Serge addressed her. "Well, both are correct. I'm Lady Charlotte Sidney Montana, so I get referred to by either often enough that it doesn't bother me. You're Serge, right? The wine here's pretty good. It's not the best I've ever had, but it has a pretty sweet aftertaste," she rattled off, her speech a bit quicker and less clear compared to usual.

"Wow, look at you, going for some excitement. Now you're getting it," she teased when Claire announced she'd be getting some wine too. "Would you grab me another glass while you're up there, if you don't mind?" she called after her, downing the rest of her current glass.

Wine 2 for Sidney

[charlie_]

Claire could barely hear Charlotte's request over the buzz of the bar's atmosphere, but she managed to catch it all the same. She chanced a sip of it before she set off again, and she had to give the Raewalden girl credit - she had good taste!

She stopped on the way back, almost splattering the two drinks as she did so. Well, someone else can the next ones. The choice was quickly pushed to the back of her mind however, as she slowly registered the scene in front of her. "Angus issss... ahahaha." she failed to stifle her laughter as she walked back over to their table, slightly more careful about spillages this time as she placed them down on the table and sunk back into her seet.

"I don't know about youuuuuuu." she slurred, taking another mouthful. "But myyyyyy money's on the bear." her face was caught between a giggle and a smirk, as she watched the bear and his silly sidekick continue the competition. She wasn't actually sure, but imagine if Angus lost. It would be hilarious! So hilarious that another bout of laughter escaped her just as she thought about it.

Edited October 23, 2016 by SB.

[Ether]

"No thanks, I'm fine. Besides, someone needs to be sober enough to drag you to bed after you pass out. I suppose I can at least stick around for a bit though..." Adele replied with a sigh. At least that was one mystery solved with little real consequence.

[Nanami Touko]

Cass stared at Adele, the disappointment full in her eyes, before she sighed, shook her head a little, and nodded. "Fine."

That left her and Nona, and whatever Nona was drinking. "I'll stick to mine, then~ I'd rather be awake for the next few hours, really. If what you're drinking would put me out, perhaps another time, when I haven't been stuffed full of cider already, haha-- hic, oh, my!" Her hiccup just made her laugh harder, slapping Adele on the arm out of her amusement.

"Drinking with Angus, really?? Gosh, he'd get so loud, though! And look at that crowd! I want to drink with my friends tonight, not with Angus and his newly appointed cadre, hah~ Come on, Adele, let's go see everyone else~ And Nona, really, if you think you can separate him from that bear, be my guest. He thinks himself its mother, pfffft. Only Angus Kearney could tame such a wild animal~" She hoped her double entendre was enough to Nona to pick up. Linking her arm with Adele's, she started dragging her away from the bar, carefully balancing her other drink as to not spill it.

"I'm glad you're willing to live a little and at least talk to people~ I figured you a socialite, come on now~ I'm sure Owen would like to speak to someone other than Sidney all night, you know? She'll be all over him unless we keep an eye out." She snickered, setting herself down at the table, and letting Adele do what she wished.

"Goodness, Claire, and here I thought I was starting to lose it! You're going to collapse if you have any more, heheh~"

[Frostivus]

Arrows in her friends' shins? Scuttle chuckled and shook her head at the notion of it. "Okay, Sebastian, why don't you leave the fibbing to the professionals," she said, pointing a thumb to her chest with a sense of inflated pride, "I mean really, what are you even talking about? We've scouted the fortress and miles around and I'm pretty sure we didn't find a bar, let alone a whole village." She hopped to her feet -- untied somehow at some point -- "Come on," she beckoned, "I'm eager to see what the other teams got themselves into."

Edited October 23, 2016 by Frostivus

[charlie_]

[spoiler=Literally Tormenting Claire]

27 MARCH--Day One of Prince Owen's diplomatic expedition to Raewald

In retrospect, it really hadn't been terribly long since the last campaign; less than a month since it started, and already they were setting out again! Hopefully, this would be a less eventful trip. Angus had already set out to Perte's territory, leaving him the 1050G authorized by Owen. This was actually the first moment meeting up with the group. [Looks like we're missin' some people, but it looks a solid enough crew. Pretty posh, too.] Angus didn't have great grounds to speak on the matter, however; after his promotion, he began to bother dressing the part, at least a bit. That was far from the most startling makeover in the party, though; nothing could hold a candle to a pink pegasus!

"Oi there, Doug! Hell of a new steed you've got yourself!" [Looks strong, at very least compared to that old beast he was riding a few weeks back. At least he can dress like a man now?] "Listen, mate, I'm actually gonna head back off soon; gotta check on th'barony, scope things out a bit, introduce m'self. You should come with; we can get an eye on your county too!" Angus scratches his animals--for some reason, neither seemed to terribly mind Geoffrey hitched to the side of the horse--before waving his arm at the sight of Claire.

"Ho! Claire! Been short on time lately; mind comin' with on a few days' ride, meet back at the port?"

"Hey thanks," Doug said back to Angus. The rider was still mounted upon Agathon, his new pink pegasus. His mind was on training routines as Angus was explaining the quest. Doug's attention suddenly peaked at the passing mention of his county.

"Wait, my county?"

Doug thought Angus misspoke. There was no way Doug heard that right.

"A few day's ride?" Claire asked, wondering what kind of scheme Angus had in mind this time. "What do you need me for?" Honestly, she wasn't used to Angus dressing in more formal ware. To her, he looked almost as out of place as Doug's new pegasus. Almost.

Angus' eyebrow bounces briefly off his hairline. "Yeah, your county. You haven' heard yet? Th'Crown's givin' you a title, an' no small chunk of what used to be Dettard's shit. Figured we'd go down, let th'folks know who's runnin' things, figure out what's got t'get done when we get back, all tha'." [i mean, I [i]was [/i]assigned to tell him formally, but... did nobody else even whisper it to him over the course of three days? I guess news travels one hell of a lot slower if you aren't running with nobles.]

Claire's concerns were legitimate; Angus did not exactly think highly of his own neck. Or of prudence, truthfully. However, this time, he was actually looking for a reasonable influence for once!

"I could use some advice, t'be honest. I don't know my ass from a hole in th'ground when it comes to this sort of thing, an' I doubt Doug's much better. Come along, keep th'two of us honest?" [C'mon, Claire], Angus hopes. [All I know is that I've got to defend it and take taxes from it, and really, I don't know much about even that.]

"I'm nobility..."

In reaction to this news, Doug dismounted off his pegasus and shouted at the sky.

"Ha Ha! From mercenary to ruler in a month's time! That maid in the castle can suck it! I'm the star of this rags to riches story!"

The long-term concerns of such a position had not reached Doug. He was currently more concerned with more material trappings of his position.

"Ooh, I gotta get a cape. All the nobles wear capes, right?"

Angus laughs, patting his own cape. [is he taking the piss? Nah, just excited.] "Not all of 'em, but Raewald ain't the warmest; your call, mate!" He raises an eyebrow to Claire; the baron was clueless, but the count was completely failing to register the implications of being noble.

"An' don't go on a shoppin' spree just yet, there," Angus warns. "All Dettard had left in 'is coffers were cobwebs, so you've just got your own pockets for awhile yet."

Claire sighed in disbelief of Doug's reaction to his fortune, and started to wonder who in their right mind would give them the position in the first place. "I can't say I know any more about this than you do." she shrugged. "But three heads are better than two I suppose." She was just hoping they wouldn't spend too much time in Dettard's old castle. The thought of returning there, even though it was peaceful this time, was kind of unsettling.

"That's alright," Doug replied to Angus. "I shall wait to buy my clothing from my people. After all, I want to look native when I get the grand tour. Right after I found it, of course."

Sure, his new county had no money. Neither did he at a time. But this was a new era. Doug was on a lucky streak, and he hoped it would catch on to his new home. He had big plans for his new county, starting with figuring out a name...

30th March 813 - Dougistan

The trip had taken the group through Doug's new territory, and it was in a rather sorry state. The villages they had passed seemed relatively poor, their roofs were broken and in disrepair. The fields didn't seem too bad, although it was by no means harvest season.

His castle didn't seem terribly impressive either, it was more a large house with a fence than anything else. Doug had acquired the edge of Dettard's land, Angus had nabbed the main castle apparently.

To Doug, this place was the earthly embodiment of his former self: it too was in need of a new look. The buildings in the villages were dilapidated, but at least the farmlands appeared sustainable (from what little Doug knew of farming). There was much work to be done, starting with a rebranding.

"Angus, Claire. You are my witnesses to the founding of the greatest county in all of Wyke!"

Doug then proceeded to rummage through his saddlebags until he pulled out the peg knight dress he had once adorned. He then tied it to one of his lances, as if it were a flag. The rider marched to an open area not far from his "castle". He shouted from the top of his lungs so that all could hear the birth of his little nation.

"I, Douglas Magee, christen this land...Dougistan!"

Doug plunged the lance into the earth, allowing a breeze to blow the dress to and fro. He stood proudly beside the flag with his pink pegasus, hoping to inspire some passing artist into creating the next great masterpiece.

It took all of Claire's willpower not to immediately burst out laughing at Doug's flag. At the very least, she supposed, the pegasus rider wouldn't have to go out of his way to find a court jester. "I'm sure." she snickered, before covering her mouth with her hand to try and stifle her laughter. There was just something too ridiculous about this scene to get mad about.

Angus inhaled deeply, trying not to laugh. Trying, trying... once the new Count uttered "Dougistan", failing. Bursting into a hearty chuckle, he dismounts, clapping Doug on the shoulder. He can't quite bear to tell Doug that he's got the equivalent of one of Geoffrey's diapers; instead, he wonders aloud what Doug thinks of his new territory.

"Wha' d'you think about it?", Angus inquires. "Keep Dougistan an' all. All yours. Pretty wild, eh?" He chuckles, but he really has no space to laugh; the poor man was a baron, with far more turf, a proper castle... and about as much idea of how to run it.

For some reason, Claire couldn't contain her giddiness over the founding of Dougistan. She must be just as excited to be a part of this new country as he was, Doug thought. Perhaps this was the opening he was looking for. But first, he had to survey his land.

"Well, it's quite the fixer upper, but I've got some ideas," Doug replied, already wondering where to put the elaborate water fountain. "But we should probably go inside and see who's been running things around here. After that, I shall talk to the natives and learn the ways of my people, the Dougistani people."

Doug made his way to Castle Dougistan, looking forward to seeing how many people would be working under him. He knocked upon the door and awaited the army of butlers and maids (mostly maids) ready to serve him.

Doug could hear footsteps from inside the house. The door opened to reveal a solitary maid. She wasn't quite what he had been hoping for. The woman was probably somewhere in her fifties, short, fat and not even remotely attractive. She looked at Doug with a harsh glare, her eyes devoid of any kindness or passion.

"Yer must be Lord Macguffin... or something like that. I'm surprised yer finally turned up, I've been keeping this cottage clean for the last week." she huffed, letting out a belch. "I used to work for that Dettard. Now that was a young man a mother could be proud of. Never too busy to come and say hello to ol' Gertrude. Even gave me my birthday off... I'm surprised he even knew when it was."

The house was at least clean, but it didn't appear particularly fancy. The walls were bare, save for a solitary portrait of Dettard, his face full of ambition and confidence. Gertrude hobbled back to the centre of the room, taking hold of a broom. "There should be some kippers in the kitchen, I made them about an hour ago but you're free to have them if you like... sir."

For once, Doug was glad the maids weren't topless. He was faced with a seemingly unhappy Gerturde, likely bitter about the change in administration. The portrait of Dettard made that very clear. Doug secretly wondered how much that would go for if he sold it, but now wasn't the time. He had to get this maid on his side.

"Gertrude, was it?" Doug began as he walked inside. "I'm Doug- er, I guess Lord Doug now. I just found out today about all of this, but I hope to change things up around here. Do you think you can tell me about the territory? How many people are living here, lifestyle, all of that? I'm hoping to make everyone in Dougistan as happy as can be!"

Doug tried to put on an enthusiastic front to coax a smile out of the old maid.

Gertrude scratched her rear, looking at Doug with a deadpan expression. "They're poor, dirty and farmers. It ain't that they're not happy, it's just that they're only just making it." she replied, looking at the sink. "It ain't too different to other parts, but be my guest if you want to fix things up."

Doug wasn't very impressed with the maid's intel. It would seem he would be starting with a blank state. He just needed to sell the idea.

"OK, think about this. People dream of going to foreign countries, right? But they can't travel that far, or can't afford it, or the natives would butcher them or something. But what if there was a foreign country just a few counties away? For just a nominal fee, people from all over Wyke can visit and enjoy exotic dining, world-class entertainment, and soon-to-be famous monuments! Dougistan can be that place! Sure, there are a bunch of details that need to be worked out, but this has untapped potential. This could a far superior source of income for us!"

Doug was very much excited about creating the very first tourist destination. His country would be like no other!

Angus shakes his head with a smile--the madness really wouldn't end, would it? He kneels down, scratching his pet's neck and offering Doug a word to the wise.

"Tha's gotta be ungodly expensive," Doug's counterpart remarks. "Prob'ly somethin' like ten thousand jus' t'begin, if you're really so keen on it." [He probably doesn't have to worry terribly much about defending the place--it was a bit inland, after all. Still, best to have a few troops on tap, in case the King comes calling, and we both must be mighty short about now.]

"Ho there, maid!" It was best to be polite, but really, "maid" was probably a stretch. "How tapped is this place for men? You know, fightin'-ready an' all tha'."

Gertrude didn't seem terribly impressed with Doug's mad ambitions, at least her previous master had a more realistic goal. She shuddered as Angus referred to her as "maid". "I much prefer the term housekeeper, fancy pants. My name wouldn't be too bad either." she replied gruffly, scratching her head.

It was amazing, she'd been stuck with a pair of idiots, the scruffy one at least knew that it would cost money to fix things up though. Dettard was practically royalty compared to these two, was Wyke really that short on blue blood?

"Most of the area's men are dead, mighty rude of them to drop to the floor after a change in management. Lots of elderly, women and children though. We've been relying on Kylander to help clean up the bandits in the area. It's pretty grim, I had to stop one myself, one bugger decided he'd taken a fancy to that portrait on the wall over there... although he underestimated my rolling pin just a little too much." she droned on, not particularly answering Angus' question. Her face lit up suddenly, as if she'd come to a sudden realisation.

"The only fella I can think of is the man who lives just outside the village. Not exactly the personal type but I know he's still kicking. Ran the bandits out of town by himself a couple of times." she added.

Claire shifted a little in discomfort as Gertrude brought up all of the dead men. She doubted that Gertrude had no idea about the campaign a few weeks ago, but it was unlikely that she knew that they were the ones who were responsible for it. "Right." she muttered. "How frequent are these bandit attacks, then?" Their reliance on Kylander aid couldn't last forever, if their fighting force was only one man strong. "Maybe you should try and train some of the farmers up into a militia?" It didn't need to be a war-ready force, but it would at least help to relieve the brigand problem.

"Relax, Angus," Doug replied with a confident smirk. He had the perfect phrase that he totally came up with himself.

"Dougistan was not built in a day! There will be a few steps to take before reaching the final design, but the Dougistan I have in mind will be well worth the wait."

More importantly, the lack of defenses gave doug pause. How could he build his magic kingdom if bandits kept slaughtering all the workers/potential costumed mascots? Apparently, most of the men were killed during his stint with the Reliants. While he was regretting his battles now, he couldn't help but be a little proud. It wasn't everyday that a crack team of nobles and mercs wipe out all fighting-capable men within a few battles. As Claire suggested training what little men were left, Doug had another brilliant idea, one that would further set his county apart from all others.

"Or we could train the women. We should definitely talk to this fellow about raising a militia. Imagine, a mostly female defense force, unheard of in all of Wyke. Imagine what that would look like..."

Doug's head was filled with women adorned in chainmail bikinis, all pledging allegiance to him. This was truly the greatest county ever to be created.

"I don't think it'd be much different..." Claire grumbled.

Angus shakes his head--a female militia? He could hardly believe it. It just wasn't done!

"Doug, a woman can figh', but women? Tha' jus' ain't done!" The baron had to give due service to the few he did know who could hold their own, though. "Well, 'sides the Princess. An' Lady Adeltrudis, 'course. You," here, a nod to Claire, "mage or na'... much 's I hate t'say it, that Sidney's righ' fierce. Cassandra's new bodyguard's tough, pretty sure Fiona's still a figh'er even after th'kids, Morta's got some muscle, that one archer Lionel had wasn' a chump..." At this point, he's trailing off, staring aimlessly at Dettard's portrait. Only after a short pause does Angus snap back to attention, recognizing just how many of the best fighters he knew were women.

"Well, damn. If you c'n swing it!" Maybe it could be done... even if it wouldn't be easy. "You'd need a real hardass, though. T'be honest, even Hogan's prob'ly too soft for what you need." Doug would also need to find women willing to take on the job for such a figure, but one impossible task at the time for the new leader of Dougistan! Angus couldn't even think that without cracking a grin.

"See, Angus gets it," Doug commented. Great minds really do think alike!

"We must meet this champion among men. He's our only hope of pulling this off."

Gertrude grunted, it didn't appear that there were many marbles between the two lords. "I'll take yer there, can't say that he'd be much fer conversation, ain't been very hospitable for the last couple of years." she replied, hobbling towards the door. "It's not that far, just a few minutes walk outside of the village."

--

She hadn't been wrong, it was her own slow pace that meant it had taken five minutes, otherwise the journey would have been even more brief. The wooden cabin stood in front of the nobles, in relatively good condition compared to the village - its owner probably had some money and a knack for keeping the woodwork in line. Two neat lines of plants stood in front of the house, mostly root vegetables from initial observation.

Gertrude gestured towards towards the cabin. "All yours, fancy pants." she yawned. "This guys' been whooping punks since before you were born, don't blame me if he comes and sends you home in pieces."

Gertrude grunted, it didn't appear that there were many marbles between the two lords. "I'll take yer there, can't say that he'd be much fer conversation, ain't been very hospitable for the last couple of years." she replied, hobbling towards the door. "It's not that far, just a few minutes walk outside of the village."

--

She hadn't been wrong, it was her own slow pace that meant it had taken five minutes, otherwise the journey would have been even more brief. The wooden cabin stood in front of the nobles, in relatively good condition compared to the village - its owner probably had some money and a knack for keeping the woodwork in line. Two neat lines of plants stood in front of the house, mostly root vegetables from initial observation.

Gertrude gestured towards towards the cabin. "All yours, fancy pants." she yawned. "This guys' been whooping punks since before you were born, don't blame me if he comes and sends you home in pieces."

Doug's knocks were loud against the wooden door, each strike creaking the timbre it was made from. There was no response for a few moments, the sounds of a disgruntled growl could be faintly heard inside. There was a shout, a man's voice and a gruff one at that.

"I don't take no visitors! Don't be bothering me, I go out when I want to be out." he called from within the house. Whoever he was, he hadn't made any effort in approaching the door.

Gertrude shook her head, looking at her eccentric master. "Did this with Dettard too, couldn't do a thing to get him to leave. Probably wouldn't leave if his house were ablaze, not if he didn't feel like moving. Wastin' yer time if you ask me." she lectured, content that her evaluation had been correct. "The bugger's probably too old to help you too. Used to see him with his wife and grandson years ago. He was gray even then."

Angus shakes his head, hand offering a firm tug on the handle. "If he c'n handle bandits--", the baron begins, tugging a bit harder. "He's got enough spit in 'im to... come... out!" Each word was punctuated by a yank at the handle, which on the last syllable yielded to Angus' hand!... along with the rest of the door. He drops it nonchalantly, despite the cub's protest at the sudden noise. The intruding noble looks to Doug, then Claire, offering a shrug and turning back towards the champion's home.

"Well, if he wouldn' come out for Dettard...!" As if those words would absolve him of ripping the door off a man's house, in the eyes of any present... let alone those of the dankest codger on Doug's land!

"Well..." As it turned out, they weren't having much success here trying to convince the man. Gertrude mentioned that he had a family, who they might be able to talk to if they had to, but there was another angle they could try first. "Angus, leave the door alone. " she grumbled, before addressing the house's occupant.

"We just want to speak with you for a few minutes." She paused. "From what I understand, you've been the one responsible for protecting this area from bandit attacks recently. We'd like to find a way to help you, but we need you to cooperate with us."

The door fell forwards, its hinges loosely hanging from the doorframe. Angus had certainly done a number on it, the entire thing would need replacing. There was another grumble from within, the creaking of wood as footsteps sounded towards them.

It had only took a few seconds, but a large man had appeared at the door - the disgruntled owner. His face was wrinkled and his hair was grey, but his frame was an impressive one. Towering over Angus, he was a hulk of a man. Nowhere near as imposing as Baleros, but enough to provide a substantial presence. Gertrude sighed, shaking her head, looking at Claire with a tired expression. "Why do you even keep that one around? At least the other one's harmless."

"I said, I ain't interested in visitors!" he roared, picking Angus up by the collar of his shirt. "Vandals an' hooligans are another story though. Yer picked the wrong old man's lawn to step on, punk!"

On being hoisted into the air, Angus doesn't struggle--rather, he laughs. This had been happening entirely too often: first Cass, then Morta, now this behemoth? It was more than he could bear. Fighting back his own laughter and shooing Geoffrey, the flying vandal squeezes out a few words.

"Hoo! Ahh, sorry about that! More used t'girls doin' that, really!" He shakes his head, blissfully unconcerned about the possibility of being walloped. "Name's Angus Kearney! This be Count Doug Magee, your new liege, an' he's got... hell, somethin' even funnier t'ask you about!"

[This grumpy bastard, teachin' a load of girls how to hold a spear? However this goes, it'll be one hell of a ride! Almost glad it ain't my duty.]

Doug's hopes for a peaceful conversations were quickly dashed by the unhinged door courtesy of Angus. Though Claire tried to smooth things over, the occupant was already on the warpath against Angus. One thing was for sure: this guy was strong! Things weren't looking good for Angus, yet he was still explaining the situation though laughs and giggles. Secretly, Doug was planning Dougistan II should he inherit Angus's lands after his violent death.

With attention back to Doug, he did his best to calm the situation.

"Uh, yeah, that's me! I'm working make this land a better place to live. I see a lack of a defense force, so I'm looking for someone to create a standing army of sorts. You're clearly the strongest guy around these parts, so naturally, you're on the short list."

Doug really didn't want to get punched in the face. Black eyes did not suit budding leaders of new countries.

Gertrude approached the three men, tapping the old one on the side. "Mardo, they're the real deal... although they do look like they've escaped from the circus." she joked, trying to defuse the man. "Just hear them out... they're not completely daft."

Mardo stopped for a moment, looking between Angus and Doug as if he were trying to decide which one were worth punching first. Angus could see the frustration in his eyes, as well as a great tiredness. After a few seconds, he released his grip on Angus' shirt, letting him return to the ground. "I ain't a fightin' man no more, haven't been for years. If a few punks come my way, I'll give them a walloping, but I ain't nobody's hero or guard."

Looking at Doug, Mardo gave a dry chuckle. "I used to have a grandson your age. I just hope yer be more careful than he was." he sighed, turning back to his house. "Working for nobles is a dangerous business, my boy found that out the hard way."

Ominous warning about nobles aside, Mardo turned out to be pretty OK once he got over the broken door. Doug figured he wasn't going to be totally in on the idea, but maybe if he just explained it...

"I get you don't want to fight," Doug replied to Mardo, "and if things go well, you won't have to! What I propose, you see, is to have you teach others to defend this land. That way, patrols can be arranged to make things secure. It will be the beginnings of a standing army, with you as its first general. We'll take whoever wants to keep Dougistan safe, men...or women."

Doug made a point to stand in front of Angus, in case the sight of him drew Mardo's ire. He needed him in a good mood for this to work.

Mardo looked away from Doug, trying to avoid direct eye contact. "I ain't no hero and I ain't no teacher. I'm just a tired old man, don't got much left and I'd prefer to have my last few years to myself." he replied, walking back into his house. "I hope you can keep the people here safe and alive, because it was too late for mine. Forget about the door, it'll just give me something to do later."

Gertrude rubbed her temples, her new master would certainly be the death of her... or himself, whichever came first. "You at least got him to come outside, that's something." she complimented, looking at the pair. "Give him some time, maybe he'll come around when he's a little brighter."

"Yeah..." Doug replied to Gertrude, somewhat disappointed that things didn't work out. "We just need to find the second best fighter in all of Dougistan."

Before leaving, Doug recalled something Mardo said about his grandson. With the main portion of his business out of the way, Doug turned around and back to the doorway of Mardo's house.

"Hey, Mardo," Doug asked, "you said something about your grandson working for nobles. What happened?"

Mardo didn't even stop to reply to Doug, the man had truly had enough of the nobles for now. "He's a good six feet under. Maybe he was the mooncalf after all..." he replied, disappearing into his home, a subdued sigh following his departure.

Gertrude limped next to Doug, shaking her head. "His grandson was a soldier working for Dettard, died a week or two ago when bandits hit. Something about Dettard not looking after the land right, that's how you jokers ended up with the place." she added. "I feel sorry for the sucker who killed him, Mardo would probably tear the little bugger to shreds, he's gotten a lot angrier than that. Last time the whole front of his house fell down."

Doug didn't bother to pursue the matter, especially after Gertrude shared the details about Mardo's son. Having worn out their welcome, Doug turned to Angus and Claire.

"I think we have another territory to look into?" Though Doug was satisfied with the land of Dougistan, he was curious what Angus got. In the back of his mind, however, Doug pondered what needed to be done to get Dougistan into the country he had in mind. Buildings needed mending, an army needed to be raised, and their fearless leader would be headed across the sea, unable to aid in any reconstruction efforts. This was not a good time to be heading out.

West Kearney

The noble trio were bid a farewell by Gertrude, who had assured Doug she'd keep an eye on things for him, or at least make sure his cottage didn't burn down. The journey to West Kearney wasn't a long one, and the route was eerily familiar. The passage through the forest - it had been the exact same route they'd taken to reach Dettard's manor. It had taken less time due to their smaller number, but even then it had been a good few hours.

Dettard's old castle stood in front on Angus and his friends, it had been only two weeks since they'd last visited but the battle... and the losses from it, were still fresh. The mounds where Angus had buried Baleros and his brother were still there, a testament to the efforts of their party. Doug seemed to have gotten the short straw of things, Dettard's castle was well and truly... a castle, instead of a hut next to a village. However, he at least seemed to have gotten Gertrude.

Being back at the castle was uncomfortable, to say the least. There was no crazy old man that Angus had angered here (yet, anyway) but the witch would've much preferred being back in Dougistan, with all of the memories rushing back. She barely knew the Kylander boys, or Jeeves, but the aftermath of the courtyard massacre and Angus' recklessness weren't exactly fond memories. The mage was still on edge around here, half expecting another mercenary to jump out of them from nowhere - even if she knew it was illogical.

"So, Angus," she began, turning to him and trying not to show her discomfort. "How are you going to handle the barony alongside being Prince Owen's advisor?" It was a pretty tough job, all things considered. Lionel wasn't even the head of his house and he had to return home, and the Kearney was being thrown in the deep end on both accounts with no experience in either field. All things considered, his appointment seemed poorly thought out, and that wasn't even considering the fact that Angus is Angus...

Angus peers over Dettard's former manor, hardly able to believe this tremendous place was his. It didn't stand up to the Gaffneys' castle, nor to the Hermans' or Valters', but it put Doug's abode to shame. The lawn was still torn by countless hooves and desperate feet, and not a soul appeared to be present. One might be inclined to call the place unhallowed, even.

The castle's new owner turns to Claire, responding almost immediately; he had done no little mulling over the matter, especially since their visit to Dougistan. "Well, advisin' Owen, I'd think that for show mostly. He knows better'n I do; I've just got t'keep our men kitted, an' there aren't many. That, at least, I can do, even if I can't tell left from righ' in politics." He scratches his jaw, unused to the lack of hair. He felt almost bald without it. "Lookin' after this place? No damn clue. Hell, I was hopin' you'd know a thing or two." He grins at Claire, a sorry thing that betrays his lack of confidence. "Did write a letter home, though, askin' if one o' my brothers could poke in, look after th'place while I'm gone. Hopin' for Fargus, but really, all of 'em are strong enough that this place shouldn't get overrun before we get back." Angus winces, Baleros and Cethel's grave catching his eye.

"Y'know. Not again, at least."

"Oi, are you the bolshy scoteena who shvat this place? Baron Kearney, is that?"

A brute of a man had appeared behind Angus. Easily six and a half feet tall, the man wasn't as monstrous as he was simply solidly built. His eyes were frightening, and his bowler hat sat on top of his unruly locks. Despite his rough features, he was clothed in a servant's jacket, not too different from the likes of Jeeves or Sebastian.

"I'm Reus, I was soobed to come and be yer malchick." he added, giving a clumsy bow. "That Earl Valter said I had to do every vesch you wanted an' I'll get some cutter for doing a dobby job. The rozzers did put me in the stripey hole they did, but I'm a cheesting droog. I don't cause no trouble or dratsing no more, I don't got the tick-tocker fer it no more."

Angus whistles softly at the titan who came to greet him--now this was a servant, not a little old maid! The baron dismounts, grabbing Reus' arm with his own and reverting with disconcerting speed to the language of the slums.

"I'm th'orange, aye! I'd swear you're havin' a guff at me; that Valter, I'd peg 'im t'gift me a rozh quicker'n a droog, but I'll take it!" With a good-spirited laugh, he waves towards his comrades. "This be dama Claire, an' that's Count Doug righ' there. Claire, Doug, this man goes by Reus. Apparently 'e was put away for a dust-up or two, an' Earl Valter sprung 'im to help me out here." Angus shakes his head, not believing his luck... before it dawns on him that he has no clue how to put this man to work.

"Er... appy polly loggy here, but I don' know th'first thing 'bout havin' no malchick. Maybe tell me if you viddy anythin' yet?" A smarter man would be concerned about Reus for a variety of reasons, but Angus would take what he could get, and didn't even know what to do with that.

She supposed that Angus' assessment of his situation made sense - Owen was intelligent enough to make reasonable choices, although the Kearney probably wasn't going to get a lot of help from her. It wasn't out of spite or anything like that, but she didn't have much of an idea on how to run a county either - beyond common sense.

It was true that Angus was fairly lacking in that department at times, but her thoughts were cut off by the arrival of the giant. So the Valters sent him a servant who was an ex-prisoner? They apparently hadn't thought to teach him to talk either, causing her to frown as she tried to puzzle exactly what they were saying until Angus joined in.

"Angus, what?" She looked at him in disbelief. There was no need to speak in the criminal's tongue back to him (and she was surprised he could even manage it). The whole conversation made her feel kind of lost, even with the 'translation' attempt. Did the Valters really have no one else to send? She found that hard to believe.

Doug joined Angus and Claire down memory lane as they entered Dettard's old castle. Fortunately, the lane was free of blood, poop, and mages that would bring harm to Doug. The rider left his pegasus outside while getting a tour of the castle.

A castle would have been far easier to maintain than an entire county like Dougistan. He would have to put one on his wishlist of Dougistan upgrades. Perhaps after the water park...

It wasn't long until the group met what appeared to be Angus's incomprehensible butler. Angus joined him in conversation, leaving Doug with zero clues as to what was going on.

"Man, I wish I were bilingual," Doug commented out loud. He wondered how important it would be to learn the language of his neighbors, especially if Dougistan was to serve all the people of Wyke.

Reus gave a clumsy bow when Claire and Doug approached. His movements were awkward, as if he was desperately trying to enact something from a script he'd read the night before. Knowing Valter's distaste for Angus, it was most likely the case.

"Ain't viddy nothing, guv'nr. All the droogs and baboochkas have been dobby. There ain't no prestoopniks around these parts. Most of them go bother the east mesto. The rozzers around here got sharper morders, ain't able to pinch a mounch without anyone bein' able to viddy it. I only been here for a day or two, but all yer neezhnies be clean and yer biblio be in order." Reus elaborated, looking up as he tried to remember what else he needed to say. Looking over at Claire and Doug again, he couldn't help but be curious.

"This yer zeena an' yer shoot? If they be needin' any skvats, I'm yer droog to keep yer dobby."

After Reus' last comment, Angus looks to Claire on instinct, expecting some retort. Thankfully, as Angus soon realized why, none came. He shakes his head at Reus, trying rather desperately to keep a straight face.

"Not either; she's 'ere t'give soviet, an' he... well, closer t'a shoot than I'd say in posh company, but 'ere on business an' a helluva lance rook with it. Give 'em your ooko, same as me." Although some of that conversation could bear to remain secret, most of it deserved a translation. Angus waves Claire and Doug in, leading the odd squad into the castle.

"Reus tells me things are going well here. People are still getting by, and no real bandit trouble." Angus forges past the throne room, towards the residential parts of the castle. "Dammit, which turn was... righ', this way." He walks backwards, now confident in his path. "He tells me my underwear's clean and my library's in order, of all things." Finally, they arrive. The library had been a bit torn apart the last time Angus saw it, in no small part thanks to his pet's clumsy curiosity.

"That got me thinkin': a self-respectin' house has gotta have some records somewhere, righ'? Debts, soldiers, all tha' noise." The fledgling Baron looks to Claire for approval--was he off his rocker, or would this actually be helpful? "Figure, absent anything pressin', we could get a hold of tha'."

Claire waited until Reus was out of earshot, before muttering: "He almost makes you look reasonable." towards the baron, hoping that he had a better idea of the castle layout than she did as she followed along. "We can check the library, although it's possible he'd keep them in his study instead." She assumed that Dettard had a personal study, anyway, in a castle as large as this.

To the Library!

As Claire had expected, Dettard's castle had its own library. Whilst nowhere near the size of Hull's own, it appeared that Dettard, or his father, had appreciated fine reading. Many of the books were historical, documenting the foundation of Wyke and its various ages. However, an entire corner had been dedicated to myths and legends, surrounding the Fountain of Ages. Notes had been frantically scrawled over pieces of parchment, trying to correlate information from various sources. It appeared that he hadn't made much progress, torn scrolls and broken quills littered the floor around his desk.

Seeing so many books on the fountain wasn't too surprising, when Claire thought about it. She knew that Dettard had been obsessed with the fountain, so all of tgis research made a lot of sense. She moved over to the desk and hurriedly skimmed over any notes the ex-baron had written.

"It doesn't look like he was too concerned with taxes." she pointed out, still looking for anything of value in the notes. She wasn't sure how much to tell the others, really. Doug hadn't made a good case for himself, and although Angus was now the prince's advisor, he was sadly still Angus.

Other than Dettard's obsession with the Fountain, most of the other material was rather ordinary. There was a rather large collection pertaining to chess, but otherwise it seemed that there was nothing of particular use. It was almost as if Dettard had completely forgone the management of his estate in his mad question to take the crown. Claire was able to find a small records book of finances, although the entries ended at the beginning of the current year. Beforehand, it seemed he was behind on taxes and funds were generally poor. Whether the issues had been dumped on Dougistan or if Angus had his share wasn't exactly clear, but West Kearney for the most part seemed more organised.

Claire flicked to the back Dettard's records book, discovering the missing dates, before handing it off to the new owner. "You might have some catching up to do." She told him. "I don't know how well Dettard has run this place, but I can't imagine being months behind on taxes is sustainable."

It was kind of funny, really. Angus had been gifted more land and a fancy castle, but for all intents and purposes he could be as poorly off as Doug here.

Angus sighs quietly; he was not looking forward to coming back from campaign, that much was certain. Why couldn't he just shovel crap? The misplaced Baron looks to Claire, offering his two copper on the situation.

"Arright. Well... t'hell with the estate, for now. I'll tell Reus t'keep order as best 'e can, an' squeeze whatever gold out of this place as 'e can. No more tax f'r now; I'll pay as I can out of spoils. If I can't keep up, what's Owen gonna do, toss me in the hole?" Angus laughs quietly--really, he had no clue what was going on here, and no time to learn. The best he could do for the moment was to not bring more ruin to all of these people. He'd already buried enough of them.

"Do you really think you can last without taxes after they haven't been collected for months?" Claire asked, wondering how much Angus had thought this through. "I don't think Prince Owen will leave you to rot, but I can't imagine he'd be happy with you taking money from the treasury if you aren't even collecting taxes." In the end though, she just shrugged. She was still pretty much clueless, and if that was Angus' plan there wasn't much she could do about it.

"Taxes?" Doug looked up from the scattered books, confused. It hadn't even occurred to him that that was a thing he had to worry about.

Angus shakes his head--how did Claire think he was sure about anything? "Prob'ly not", the most prestigious baron posits. "Makes th'state of things more my problem, at least 'til I've gone through whatever Reus can pawn off." One hand finds itself stuffed in his pocket, the other rising in resignation to shoulder height. "I've got no damn clue if this place'll look like Dougistan by the time we get back. Haven't got th'heart for it... follow?" Angus' fingers run through his hair, unable to free themselves of any grime against his scalp. A distraction, any distraction would do, and Reus at the end of the corridor was as good as any. "I'll get the dobby droog up to speed. Not sure what t'do goin' forward, but right now... things are settled."

Angus clumsily passed the torch to someone probably worse-equipped for the job than himself that day. He could take solace, though, in the absolute lack of ambition in Reus' task: to ensure there were was a barony left to rebuild after a few short months, even if the manor was reduced to a stone latrine in a field for it.

Fin

[Dandragon]

"You BOTH are going to collapse if you have anymore. I think you should stop unless you want a massive hangover in the morning." Serge shook his head and chuckled. He remembered when he was like this. It was pretty bad, and no one was really there to teach him regulation. It was a miracle he was able to teach himself anything.

It was then he noticed Morganna, who was...not quite there in the moment. She looked like she wasn't in the mood for any of the partying going on, or at least any fun people were having drinking.

"...I'll be right back." Serge got up and walked over to Morganna. "Hey there. You feeling alright? Got something on your mind?"

[Juliette]

"Perhaps so. To me, a title of nobility doesn't mean that much," Freya admitted, frowning slightly at the prospect. "I don't want to be responsible for land or anything of the sort... it's not what I'm suited for. Defending others is easier for me, and I'm better at it than I'd be with any kind of taxes or laws. If I remain Miss Freya forever, I wouldn't mind that at all. I'd be of no help to anyone as even a Countess."

"I worked in the armory for years, since I was five. You start work early if you're not in a noble house," she explained to him. That the nobles were often so little informed of the lives of ordinary citizens always seemed odd to her. "When I was young I collected materials, I helped make the weapons as I grew older, and when I was a young adult I started testing them. We worked for the capital's soldiers, so my teacher recommended me to join them when he saw my skill in testing. It was a fairly natural progression. We forged weapons of all kinds, and I was proficient in most of them. I just prefer swords and spears more, that's all." She smiled a bit at his joke. "Whether or not a commission would be useful to you, I certainly wouldn't be able to help you here. Not only do we not have any sort of materials for weapons, we don't have the equipment either, so it'd not be a request of much use."

She paused again to finish off her drink, putting the glass aside. "Well, that's enough of that for me. You're probably smart not to get drunk, seeing how many of our companions are out of it already," she remarked. "I can hold my liquor, but the night isn't too far in and we already have enough people in questionable condition that I'd rather not chance it." She gestured towards the growing crowd of increasingly tipsy members of the party near Cassandra. "I'd be surprised if I don't end up needing to help some of them out."

[Jotari]

His drink gone and another one not appearing in front of him, Emmet got up and bought another mead from the bar. Instead of going back to Angus' table, he headed to the table of his reliants. It seemed more natural for him to socialize with them than the baron. He assumed Angus wouldn't even notice him missing. He sat down at the table without invite. Squeezing himself in between the two twins. "Salutations my comrades in arms" he said, probably interrupting their previous conversation. "How are we on this fine evening. I really should speak with you more often. Has Serge mentioned I plan on leaving when we get to Raewald?"

Emmet +1 Mead

Edited October 24, 2016 by Jotari

[Ether]

"Did you now? I only ever really faffed about in court out of necessity, not for any enjoyment of it." Adele replied as she was dragged along, not bothering to mention that Cass was gaining the stench of a drunkard already, which paid no favour to her bid to make this place seem appealing. What did people see in this stuff, honestly? Sitting at the Prince's table a few seats away from Cass, partly to avoid interrupting the fun of the main group, but just as much to be a small bit away from the drink on their breath.

[Xinnidy]

Sidney knew better than to trust Owen's forced smile, for better or worse. "Sorry..." For the prince, it was hard to think of easing up and relaxing when he committed Malaphar's threats to memory. Every second seemed wasting, could he really afford the luxury?

One thing he could do though, to take Sidney's words for more than they probably meant. "Just Owen, no standings...?" He spoke softly, to none but himself. He watched Sidney leave for the more crowded table,letting her playful side show. That hadn't as much effect on Owen as expected, his mind well gone into pondering. There was just one question, one simple question, yet it put his thoughts in such disarray.

Who is Owen?

It was so incredibly simple, he was sure many would question for thinking about it so hard, but it left him a discomfort ge couldn't deny.

Owen Egerton Gaffney died the moment he learned he had a kingdom to oversee, his father's weakening health but a nail in the coffin. Prince Owen took his place, but he was certainly not the same man.

Owen Egerton Gaffney enjoyed picking flowers. His mother's garden was his favorite place in the castle. He'd made simple flower crowns for his friends; his sister, Adele, and Graham --though the latter would protest ever wearing one. The flowers picked on their scent and color, and how well he thought they'd fit each's personality. He was always a boy to attribute emotions and ideals to those around him.

Prince Owen was too busy to pay attention to his mother's garden. He'd slacked for too long --many topic concerning princedom were new to him. Logistics, etiquette, and dusty books were his new companions, not flowers.

Owen Egerton Gaffney was fascinated by magic. He'd kept the memory of his first encounter with the head of the Mage's guild. His beard was so long! He seemed wise as the years he'd lived, too! The elder didn't mind showing the young, impressionable boy a simple trick. The flames he conjured flickered in the air, taking form of a small pigeon in flight. The boy wasn't very book-learned, but from that day on he wondered what was truly possible with magic.

Prince Owen learned researching magic would never be a vocation he needed to worry about. That was the job for royal mages! They would know, and they would give the prince answers if needed. For self-defense, he had guards! The soldiers too! Instead, fencing lessons were to be his fit, much like his father before him. It was chivalry in martial form! Prince Owen did enjoy it, but his own father wasn't always the best of teachers --the prince never really understood what he was missing when emulating the emerald sword technique's form.

Owen Egerton Gaffney had a crush for one Adeltrudis Herman, the girl of lust red hair. Aside from his sister, the Hermans were among the only young nobles he spoke to regularly. Perhaps it would only be natural then, but to the boy that unusual red haired girl certainly stood out. They sparred, they played, they had fun, they disagreed and sparred again. There wasn't a house's interests attached to their interactions, and perhaps that was all that mattered at their young age. The boy never admitted that crush, and time went on.

Any amorous relationship Prince Owen would have inevitably transferred the weight of Wyke to his suitor. A future king would have a future queen, yet this game of cards was incredibly off-putting. Many houses would have enjoyed joining with the Gaffneys, but was it not a mockery of holy union? He never understood why the archbishop would just glance past that in his sermons. Marriage, a loved one, that had lost its romanticized connotations. It was a duty, some unlucky maiden he'd need to make the court happy. He'd never wish that on his childhood friend. At the same time, the prince supposed he was quick to understand his own sister's feelings. It was for the best, he'd never been man enough to explore his own feelings, but he wouldn't admit hampering his little sister's.

...

Owen was so lost in thoughts he'd barely caught Adele sitting down on his table, almost flinching in surprise. "Oh! Adele." He said, shaking his head. He took a glance at his glass of wine. It was half-full --or was it half-empty?--, he truly was a slow appreciator. This is not a sweet enough brew for my tastes, a shame. "Are you having fun, Adele? The others seem to appreciate the environment quite a bit."

[Vestige]

"That's fair enough. I would say being knighted does confer it's benefits, land being one of them as you mentioned. But I do understand the feeling of not wanting to deal with the hassle, though I would also argue it's probably worth it. But of course," he threw his hands up in defeat, "none of that really matters if it's not to your liking," he said, leaning back into his chair. He took a small moment for himself to look around, and in the short while he'd been chatting the atmosphere had gone from pleasant to downright absurd. He wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed it earlier, but Angus had brought a bear--his bear?-- into the place, and it was drinking. Is that even safe?

"Since you were five?!" he exclaimed, his wandering eyes focusing back onto Freya. "You say early but... that sounds awfully dreadful for one as young as that," he said, furrowing his brow. She did say she came from a smaller village. Perhaps money was tight? "Well no, I take that back. I suppose gathering supplies couldn't have been too bad, but still. If it were me, I would have liked another year or two for relaxing. But I guess that's just the way the world is," he frowned.

"Anyway, yes, that's a wise decision," he said, finishing the last of his water. "I can't say I blame anyone here for taking the time to drink the night away, especially with everything that's happened so far--but I'd just rather not be robbed blind while I sleep through the night," he said, lowering his voice just a tad. "Plus, there's no telling when Malaphar's going to show up again. And if not him, then whatever other problem. Unlucky as we seem to be," he said, fidgeting with the rim of his cup. "Casting magic while inebriated is not something I'm keen on doing. Once--never again," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"By the way, did you see this particular man at the market? He appeared foreign, but the weapons he was carrying were of an especially intriguing design. Probably foreign made as well. I merely saw them in passing, but I don't think I've seen anything quite like them before. There was an ax in particular that looked mighty impressive. If you haven't seen them, you should take a look tomorrow. You might find them interesting," he mused.

[charlie_]

"Come onnnn Steve..." the mage protested, calling at his back. "I almost diiiiiied this morning, can't I have a little fun??" She didn't wait for his response before continuing her drink - only her third one of the evening. "I'm toooootally fiiiine." She insisted to nobody in particular. Poor Steve is just a worrywart, after all She kept up her drinking, against his advice. They were just having a nice evening, free from maniac wizards and crazed bards, and it was going to stay that way.

[Nanami Touko]

Hmmm. Would there be a better time for this? Probably. No, most definitely. But Cass was beginning to err on the wrong side of logic, as she took another hefty swig of the intoxicating beverage. Claire's joking call of Steve to Serge made her laugh a bit too much, deciding that she could have some fun with this. "Alright, alright, there's something I have to ask~!" She put her drink down, the cider sloshing about in the half full glass. "Owen! My dearest brother, I just have to ask... Why, for whatever reason, have you not bed the wonderful, gorgeous, and all around fantastic lady Charlotte Montana~?"

She snickered, ending up laughing after her question, leaning back in her chair and grinning all silly like at her unfortunate brother. "As a proper lady of Wyke, it would not do to brag, but how does my elder brother not get around to doing something that I now have plenty of experience in? The lineage of Wyke's finest rests on you, my dear, so hop to it, why don't you~? Don't think I haven't noticed how playful she is with you, hmhmhm..." With a confident chuckle, she sat forward, and leaned onto her elbows, chin on her palm. "Well? Tell me~"

Edited October 24, 2016 by Narmaya

[charlie_]

Claire blinked twice at Cass and put her drink down as carefully as she could manage. Her vision was a little precarious by this point, everything was tilting from side to side, so she still had to check that she was looking at the same Cass. Even in a less intoxicated, Claire would've struggled to respond to this, so the "Errrrrrrrrrrrm." that escaped her as she exchanged a confused glance with the princess wasn't particularly surprising. It probably would've lasted longer, even, had she been slowly sliding to the edge of her seat.

"Whoa, whoa, whooooooa!" she waved her arms around frantically, in an attempt to stop herself from falling. A huge sigh of relief escaped her as she managed to keep herself off of the bar floor, then quiet for half a moment, followed by the laughter recommencing. Okaaaay, maybe I really did have a liiiiittle too much... The wine glance in front of her was almost dry by this point, but it was still calling to her. Not now. she told herself. Engel knew how long her resolve would last.

"You reallllly shouldn't listen to everything Angus tells you, Cassss." she laughed, even though that proooobably wasn't appropriate here. Although that applied to a lot of things, in their current situation. "His hearrrrt's in the right place, but gooooosh you'd think he'd been hit in the head or something somet- sometimes!" she managed, smirking to herself. What had the princess gotten herself into this time...?

[riariadne]

Sidney giggled at Claire's antics, taking the wine glass from her before the mage girl actually spilled it. "Who knew you were such a party animal, Claaaaaire," she spoke, drawing out the girl's name on purpose in the style she seemed to mess up her words, sipping along through her drink as people shuffled around a bit.

Her bubbly demeanor vanished rather quickly, as Cass's question was enough to pierce through any sort of blurred thoughts and leave Charlotte looking rather scarlet. "C-Cass! You can't just ask Owen something like that out of the blue..." Oh, no... this isn't what she meant by talking to him about me the whole time, was it? She looked towards Owen, who seemed to have been pondering things quietly until now, but couldn't bring herself to speak, lest she only further embarrass herself. Instead she turned her head to stare off to the side, color not fading from her cheeks.

I'm sure he already thought I was just depraved and needy, and now that'll only seem even more so true... I'm just a thief girl who fell in love with him and can't keep my hands off, even if that's not what he wants right now. And why would he? He didn't want me a few days ago, so why would he want to make love to me now? Sidney drooped her head, finishing her glass of wine and sighing, still silent.

[Terrador]

Angus giggles madly to himself under the table, his pet's thirsty slobbering quite a sight. One hand pulls up on the table, his feet scrambling for a foothold. Shaky, lopsided, he rises, coming eye-to-eye with that sweet-smelling alcohol... and feels the warm burn of bile in his throat. Geoffrey was still in working order, it seemed; already, he moved on the next glass placed before him. In Angus' eyes, that more than settled it. It takes more than a moment to ensure he would remain standing, but once he does, Angus lifts his barely more sober pet into the air. His slurring voice announces the winner, in as sensationally deep a tone as he can manage.

"Th'winnerrr! Geoffreyyyy the bearrrrr!!" The knight's purchase on the ground was really more of a lease, and soon he tumbled on his ass, Geoffrey crashing atop him. Too drunk to pay merit to the pain, Angus outright cackles, still holding the pet close. Above him, in the crowd... Decima? Morta? Prone, the ruined mooncalf pleas playfully for aid.

"Lookie there, buddy! Thar's some *hic* friendly faces~! Hullo, girls! Would y'be sooo kind as t'get me upupupup, uppers, up-skyward, upoff th'floor~? My legs, they've betrayed me! Lo, taterous stumps!" Angus contorts his face into a puzzled grimace. "Taterous? Traiaitorus. Yeah, close 'nough!" Again, the humor of the night assaults him--even Geoffrey seemed surprised by his mother's antics, baying with a warbling voice.

[Shin]

Not a clue

It was rather unusual, did Scuttle have no recollection of what had occured? It was like she had been plucked from the fort and placed in the church with her a few days later. Sebastian could not make heads or tails of such madness, it was rather concerning, was it possible she would enter this state again.

"It has been several days since we were at the fort, Scuttle... a lot of time has passed since then." Sebastian replied, wondering whether releasing her would be a poor choice. On the one hand, she would be short work to vanquish - a knife to the throat would suffice. However, that was an option he'd rather not resort to. What had happened to the bard? Was this madness always within her, or was it new? He'd certainly never seen it surface before.

"Perhaps it may be best if you wait outside the tavern whilst I let them know you're awake." Sebastian advised, ushering Scuttle towards the bench. "Just so they can get in a drink or two before your stories. You wouldn't want to surprise them after being unconscious for so long."

How did one explain to someone that they had an evil alter-ego? Jeeves had never trained him for this, and thinking about it, nobody could have.

Once seen, cannot unsee

The other Reliants were quite happy among themselves, and welcomed Emmet among their ranks. Placed between the two brothers, Emmet looked rather weedy in comparison. Hans looked rather perplexed by the matter, although his brother barely even flinched. "No, the boss didn't mention a thing." Lars replied, taking a swig from his flagon. "Too rough for you? Don't blame you for going, not everyone's cut for jobs like we get. Didn't know yer very much, Emmet, but you seem like a decent guy to me. Best o' luck with whatever yer got planned."

However, Serge could definitely see Morganna was rather out of it. Nearly jumping with surprise, Morganna took a few seconds to regain her composure.

"Oh? Commander." Morganna replied, still somewhat scattered. "It's nothing really, I think I'm just worn out from everything that's happened lately. With Malaphar... and what... what I heard about Scuttle. My magic's more than enough to keep me safe, but there isn't a spell that stops one from feeling tired. I may retire early tonight, I never did enjoy dulling my brilliance with such unrefined beverages."

The horrors of Scuttle's actions were still fresh in her mind, she'd watched every moment of it, horrified to see how brutal the woman had been. Behind the childish prankster was a heartless monster. Nobody would be able to sleep knowing someone like that lurked about.

Amusement

Nona grinned as Cass hurried off with Adele, watching the pair head away. The pair were a lot of fun, more fun than she'd expected. She'd assumed her engagement to Angus was because of some passionate love, Angus' status was hardly suitable to marry royalty. Only time would tell though, her younger sister had said she wanted to tell Nona about something.

Bear Minimum

The crowd around Angus hollered in laughter, the prospect of a young man losing to a bear was a novel one, nothing like they'd ever seen before. Geoffrey nudged his drunken owner with his snout, as if the bear knew how inebriated Angus truly was. However, Geoffrey wasn't the only foe he was to do battle with, Esclabor had approached the young baron, carrying two heavy flagons of mead with him.

"Finishing so soon, Kearney?" Esclabor jibed, watching the young man struggle with his words. "I thought I'd repay you for helping me with Ceirch earlier. Have a drink on me, you seem rather fond of the mead, I thought you'd enjoy it. Ceirch never was much for mead, he'd probably prefer a bowl of oatmeal any day."

Esclabor placed the flagons firmly on the table, making sure Angus knew where they were. He was conflicted about the young man. Half of him thought he was an idiot, the other half knew he was an idiot. However, there was something about his actions and his way with diplomacy that was unheard of in nobility. Perhaps this was why he'd been selected as Prince Owen's advisor?

Edited October 24, 2016 by Shin

[Frostivus]

Scuttle regarded her older counterpart with raised quizzical eyebrows, then she sighed, shrugging her shoulders, "Alright, Sebastian, I'll play along."

She plopped herself on the pew without much resistance, lazily rocking her legs to and fro. "Word to the wise: watch out for Prince Owen. Tensions are pretty high; poor sod looks like he's a poorly-chosen word away from falling apart. So . . . I guess I wait for you to come back?"

[Dandragon]

"...I get that you don't feel like this is a proper use of your time and such, but please don't lie to me about things, Morganna." Serge scratched his head in his usual fashion. "I may have a few drinks in me but it's not hard to tell you something is bugging you, and methinks it's got something to do with what happened earlier today. ...I couldn't even find you at the Library, you know. So at some point, I'd like you to tell me where you were. Not tonight, mind you. Tonight is where we should be able to relax." He got up from the chair he had sat down in next to Morganna. "I'm not gonna pry into you unless it becomes a problem, so if you need to get something off your chest, so long as I ain't drunk I'm available whenever. Alright?" Once again, he found himself talking to a person as if they were his own child, and he couldn't get rid of the feeling of...well, oddness, for lack of a better term. This was a grown woman, and one with no other relation to him than she worked for him, but it wasn't like him to leave something like this alone. At least, not for what he considered a good friend.

[Shin]

Word of Warning

Sebastian nodded. "Stay here, I hope I can trust you to stay put just for a little." he replied, heading towards the door. It was a risky move, but it would provide the answer he wanted once and for all. "I should be a few minutes, sit tight. I don't think there's any bread here for you to take."

And with that, the butler started walking towards the tavern, curious to how Prince Owen and his group would feel about the young bard. It was difficult, taking her as a prisoner would only delay them... but at the same time he didn't expect them to welcome her with open arms. What would Jeeves have done? He always seemed to have an answer for everything.

-

Good Night

Morganna wasn't sure how to respond to her commander, had he been drinking? His words were well intended, but they certainly didn't make her feel any better. "I'll keep that in mind... I think I'll head back to the farm, I have a few books I wish to look over." she replied hastily, already sliding towards the door. Perhaps sleep would quell her worries? If she could even sleep that was. "Maybe I'll talk to you tomorrow... if I'm not busy."