Silk and Steel

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Log Info

  • Title: Steel and Silk
  • Emitter: Telamon
  • Place: Nobility District, Alexandria - Jovani's Fine Garments
  • Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon head to the noble's district to acquire some new threads for Telamon. Ravenstongue meets the tailor, Jovani d'Andarion, a family friend and business partner of Telamon's family. Telamon gets his measurements taken and Ravenstongue discusses the possibility of a new project for Jovani.

Alexandria, Nobility District, late morning

Despite the mists that flow through the streets of Alexandria, there's still places to go, people to see, and the occasional bit of paperwork. This even extends into the nobles' district, where a section is set aside for high-class trades to flourish. The watch is everywhere, and visitors who can't state their business and look out of place are often encouraged -- gently or not -- to depart back down the mountain road.

Fortunately, Telamon has a knack for blending in. An elegant light gray tunic over deep blue hose and lighter shoes, with a simple gold chain and his circlet on his brow; he looks like a noble dilettante, not a sorcerer of middling power. Walking with Lana's hand on his arm, as he offers broad smiles and cheerful greetings to those who might call out. "And that, dear, is why I said to dress up. The nobles value their... hm. Privacy isn't the best word. Stability, that might be it. They don't like disruptive elements." He points. "And we're almost there." Not far is a well maintained shopfront, a sign out front proudly proclaiming it to be 'Jovani's Fine Garments'. Intriguingly, hanging below that sign is another that simply depicts a wine goblet over a sword.

And Cor'lana's making an attempt to match Telamon's finery this morning by wearing... Well, the nicest dress she owns, which has gotten a lot of mileage as of late since the meeting with the Queen of Air and Darkness, as the season permits her to bare enough of her shoulders and chest to do so comfortably, although having Grandfather's mark displayed so boldly on her chest might upset some more uptight noble circles.

"Hence why I wore the dress that Grandfather gave me some time ago," Cor'lana replies, although it's clear she's somewhat nervous about the whole thing, her eyes darting around every once in a while to see if there are people staring at her. Which... considering her dress, there very well may be, and she shrinks a little closer to Telamon every time. "Glad Addy agreed to watch Pothy for us. He's better... behaved, these days, but I still don't want to tempt fate by bringing him to a more upscale establishment."

She peers at the signfront, curiosity blooming in her violet eyes. "Huh. He must get a lot of business," she mutters. "What's the sign underneath for?"

Telamon smiles at Lana, his eyes sparkling. "He really has gotten better. If... if there's a silver lining to be found in what happened, it's that." He leans in to kiss her cheek lightly, as the pair stops at the door. "And I don't think Addy will let him bull her around. She's tougher than she looks. Like another lady of my acquaintance."

At Lana's question, he nods. "The Vintner. Jovani shares the building with him. He's... interesting. An old friend of my father's -- if he's in, we'll talk to him as well." With that, he confidently takes hold of the door handle, opening it. A soft bell jingles, as he leads Lana inside.

Inside, the store is swept as clean as, well, their house when Tel goes on a spree with the unseen servants. Several mannequins, both whole and partial, stand in various poses, showing off tunics, dresses, trousers, and long-coats popular in Alexandria when winter rolls in. Standing at a counter is a stern looking, severe woman of middle age, regarding the pair with a cool stare. "Welcome to Jovani's," she says in a tone suggesting this had better not be a lark. "Do you have an appointment?"

Cor'lana is already intimidated a little off the bat. It doesn't help that she's just walked through the Noble District, which already an 'exclusive' place to be, on the arm of a very handsome man who could be here on a lark. So when the woman addresses them both, her lips press together.

But only for a couple of seconds. Telamon knows--as he's seen it happen firsthand at times--that his feytouched bride-to-be will occasionally steel herself and turn from the tree about to tumble in the wind to the iron-backed oak that stands tall in the woods. This happens as Cor'lana takes in a breath and nods, violet eyes focusing on the woman intently. "Yes," she says. "Should be under the name Telamon Atlon."

Telamon can always tell when the steel goes up her spine. A set of her shoulders, a glint in her eyes. He firmly represses a grin -- he does so love it when she shows her claws -- but instead, clears his throat to beat the clerk to the punch. "It may not be written down. But please, tell Jovani that Telamon Atlon is here."

The name actually causes the clerk to pause, blinking a moment. Then she draws herself up again -- she'd make a good schoolmistress or librarian -- and says, "Please wait here," before vanishing through the curtain into the backrooms. Voices can be heard, and then a sudden, happy yelp. Rapid footsteps.

Suddenly, a half-elf comes bursting into the room -- judging from his features, he's a bit older than Telamon, but the two couldn't look more different. He's a couple inches shorter, dressed in a curious ensemble very similar to Telamon's ruffled-shirt and trousers outfit, but with a short coat over it. His head is actually shaven, accentuating his slightly pointed ears. "Signor Telamon! At last!" His words have the accent of a Rosalian native, lilting and cheery.

Cor'lana watches the woman's reaction with a slight flicker of curiosity in her violet eyes--not enough to replace the determined foundation underneath, but certainly accenting it. It's an inkling of a question forming on her mind, but she keeps it unvoiced for now.

Then the man comes into the room, and Cor'lana can't help but smile, too. This is, after all, a far more warm welcome than the woman who had greeted them before. But, it's Telamon who has the appointment, so she merely lets go of Telamon's arm so he can greet the man properly.

It's clearly a warm friendship, as Jovani grips Telamon's hand in a firm handshake before pulling the younger half-elf into a brief embrace. "Ah! Too many years, you must come visit more often!" The man radiates a surprising charm, clapping Telamon on the shoulder, before turning to Lana.

"And you must be the lovely Lady Cor'lana Lupecyll," he says, taking her hand and bowing over it, but not kissing. "I am Jovani d'Andarion, and for my sins I garb the nobles of Alexandria to their taste and liking." He gives Telamon a wry grin. "Although some have... less of that than I would wish. Please, do not be too put off by my assistant, Kyndra. She is well paid to ensure there is no foolishness inside these walls. The children of nobility can be... unruly sometimes. Come with me!" And he leads the pair past the curtain.

"I am, but only a lady by demeanor, not by title--unless you listen to some entities of fey link," Cor'lana replies politely with a smile. It's probably just as well that the man doesn't kiss her hand considering how often Telamon does the gesture when he's being sweet on her. "I don't begrudge your assistant by any means. She's only doing what she's told."

She does take Telamon's arm again--as is so natural, like how Telamon wraps his arm around her on the couch--and walks with him through the curtain. As the trio move down the hall, Kyndra nods to them as they pass. Perhaps not warmly, but accepting their presence and not objecting to it. The hall splits into a T-section, and Jovani leads them down the left branch into a large fitting room. "Please, sit down! May I offer you any refreshments?" The two are guided to a plush couch, as a young boy appears to stand next to Jovani.

Telamon smiles, looking around. "It's a bit early for wine. Tea maybe, if you have it." Jovani whispers to the boy, who promptly vanishes again. "Marco is learning the trade, and doing well. Though he's not run into a truly obnoxious noble yet." Jovani seems to fret a little. "That will be the test. I've been tempted to let him work with the Vintner, just so he'll have some..." He gropes for a word.

"Stoicism?" Telamon suggests.

Jovani shrugs lightly. "As good a word as any. The sil word 'denara' is better, though." With that, Jovani taps a heavy ring on his hand, three times. There's a flicker, and a large book suddenly appears in his hands, which he proffers to Telamon.

Cor'lana nods to the notion of tea, herself--apparently the idea of daydrinking with Telamon without a good reason for it does not appeal to her at this moment in time. She observes Jovani's conversation... not placidly, but passively, as her gaze follows the boy as he vanishes from the room.

She looks like she's about to ask a question when the large book appears and is offered to Telamon. "Is that a... lookbook?" she asks, trying to draw on her brief memory of training with Lady Sandiel at her own tailoring shop.

Soon, the boy Marco returns with three cups and a kettle, deftly balanced on a tray which he sets down on the table in front of them. Pouring for all three without spilling a drop, carefully keeping a polite, blank expression. Once done, Jovani grins at the lad. "Well done. Please continue adding the lining to Lord Renvir's cloak for me." Marco nods, before vanishing into the workrooms.

Telamon takes a sip of his tea, before shaking his head. "The lookbooks are a bit less guarded than the accounts." He reaches over to take the heavy tome, opening it and starting to inspect the carefully-written numbers there, while Jovani continues, "The Atlon family invested in my business early on, and so his father would visit occasionally. I am proud to say there's never been any issues."

Telamon comments, still reading, "I still think you're right about putting pockets in trousers. Granted, you can't load a lot into them, but I bet you could magically augment them like a bag of holding."

Jovani grins. "Just so, just so." He stands up, walking over to collect a slightly slimmer volume. This one is actually labeled, 'Summer 1023'. "Some of our prior work, though I still stand by it, if you care to peruse, lady Cor'lana." The Rosalian half-elf actually gets a misty look in his eyes. "I saw the announcement you made, by the way. I would be happy to assist you in any sartorial decisions for the wedding. Though I understand the mistress of fisticuffs known as Aryia does excellent work as well. If I could find a way to approach her that wouldn't involve me being laughed at or pummeled... ah, she is as much a master of the craft as I am, and I cannot help but respect that."

Cor'lana is visibly impressed with the young boy's delivery and pouring of tea, although she looks at his blank expression and presses her lips together for a moment. Perhaps it's just her feytouched nature, usually so colorful with emotion, that'd troubled to see a child bereft of any.

But the moment passes as she realizes what Telamon's been handed with his remark, and she blinks. "I hadn't realized we were here on business," she replies. "I suppose that makes sense--given that your father can't exactly come and visit himself due to the current situation." She delicately addresses the wight situation with her last two words, delivering them just as naturally as the rest. After all, Telamon gets bent out of sorts when he's reminded why the wedding hasn't happened yet.

Cor'lana takes the summer lookbook and peruses it, but she smiles as Jovani mentions the announcement. "I wanted Aryia to at least make my dress," she replies, "but maybe Telamon would prefer an outfit from you. After all, you are a family friend and business partner."

Her fingers pause mid-page on one design, and she looks up at Jovani. "Come to think of it. I've been contemplating an idea lately. Do you have any experience with... magical tailoring, Mister Jovani?"

Jovani catches Cor'lana's expression, and gestures. "I have been impressing on Marco the need for calm. He is a well behaved and skilled lad, but... he has not had to deal with an unpleasant, foul noble." He sighs, running a hand along his shaven pate. "I would armor his soul, so that filthy words would bounce off him. But then, he is a dear child, as dear as my own children."

"It can be both, dear," Telamon replies to Lana. "I need a new shirt, but I also needed to check Jovani's books for father -- which, Jovani, you'll be pleased to hear I don't see any issues with." He closes the accounting tome, passing it back. "But yes. That white silk blouse I got a few years back fell in the line of duty. There was a small altercation and, well..." He looks pained.

The tailor waves his hands. "These things happen! I will get your measurements here before you leave, and then begin work on a new one. Sadly, I have not cracked the secret to lining such shirts with fine dwarf-mail -- that is my current project." Jovani looks to Lana. "We do some, though admittedly we lack the breadth of magical skill that adventurers require. Usually our enchantments are limited to everbright or instant cleanliness. Did you have something in mind?"

Cor'lana nods, reassured by Jovani's words about Marco's training. "Good," she replies. "He'll need that. Not everyone can be a patient and understanding client, especially people who grow up with a silver spoon in their mouths. I just... Well, I am merely empathetic to children because of my upbringing."

She looks a little pained as well at the mention of the ripped silk shirt. "That beautiful shirt... Hopefully Telamon's measurements haven't changed too much. I may not cook nor bake too often, but it is probably a little more sugar than he's used to eating..."

Cor'lana puts a thoughtful finger to her lips, tapping them for a moment as she looks back down at the lookbook. "I rather like this design," she replies. "I've read recently about clothes that can be made to augment sorcerous 'talent', as the Atlons refer to it. I don't know how much you know about me, Mister Jovani, but I inherited two rather magical bloodlines in varying amounts, and I was looking at possibly having one commissioned soon."

Jovani taps the ring three times, resting his hand on the accounts book, and it vanishes again. "Indeed. I was lucky to have caught Telperius's eye. It's carried me to an unusual place, but..." He smiles. "My family is fed, and I have a roof, and wine. What more can a man ask for? In the meantime -- Marco," he calls to the lad. "Bring your slate, if you would. I need to take some measurements for Telamon."

Telamon stands, holding his arms out to the sides as Jovani begins to unroll a long, narrow length of cloth marked with numbers. Marco appears, carrying a slate with parchment attached to it and a pencil, and the boy perches himself on a chair. If Lana catches his eye, the lad smiles at her impishly.

"Thirty-six, twelve..." Jovani murmurs to Marco, as he mulls over the question from Lana. "While we could supply the garment itself, I don't know if we could supply the appropriate enchantments. In a situation like this I would suggest consulting with Master Mithralla, or some other arcanist. We sometimes 'farm' out work to such crafters. Twenty-eight, Marco."

Cor'lana can't help but return the impish smile given to her by Marco as he assists in measuring her husband-to-be. "Mine ought to be smaller," she remarks. Which is true, tiny thing that she is.

She looks back to Jovani. "I can likely find someone to aid in the enchanting," she says. "There's no shortage of skilled craftspeople in this city, such as yourself, and collaboration between them is to be expected. I'd say no one expects the poet to also be good at singing, but it's rather unfair to compare my little hobby to your marriage of practicality and art." Cor'lana genuinely smiles as she delivers the compliment. After all, she has seen Jovani's work before.

Telamon waits patiently, or as patiently as he can muster, once Jovani gets the last measurements down. "Which reminds me, Jovani. Is the Vintner in? I wouldn't mind talking to him, once we're done here." He offers Lana a smile and a wink at her warm words.

Jovani checks over Marco's numbers, nodding and ruffling the boy's hair briefly before sending him back into the workrooms. "You are too kind to me, lady Cor'lana. There are quite few who manage to master multiple skills over a lifetime." He nods at Telamon's question. "He is, but he is with a client. They are having a..." He pauses, then continues, "...a tasting." He shrugs at Telamon. "You know how the Vintner is."

"Quite true," Telamon replies. "In any case. I'd like one -- no, let's get two shirts, same style as before. Take your time with them -- this isn't a rush job, which I'm sure you're very thankful for." Jovani grins, and inclines his head, acknowledging the point appreciatively.

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Sense Motive: (19)+7: 26

Cor'lana's a studious girl. The fact of the matter is that she's rather good at reading between the lines when it comes to the written page, but she's not quite so adept yet at the conversational equivalent--but she manages to catch something, and there's a glint of a sort of more intense curiosity in her eyes that suggests she's caught onto the hidden seam in the pocket that keeps it flat--which can be cut open with the correct application of a seam ripper. That meaningful look falls on Telamon to meet his eyes and perhaps subtly ask an explanation of him.

But she stays smiling. "And we can discuss the dress on another visit, perhaps," Cor'lana says. "I understand it's a faux pas to run over one's appointment time with another demand for service."

Telamon's expression gives nothing away, but he idly reaches over to slide his hand along Lana's. Tapping his fingers along her hand, a simplified Handspeech code. (( Later. ))

Jovani, for his part, laughs softly and clasps his hands together. "Oh, dear me, a lovely lady such as yourself? You could not overstay your welcome! Indeed, if you ever lack for funds or the adventuring work slows, you would make a marvelous model for some dress concepts Kyndra and I have been developing!"

"But, sadly, I must return to the mines. Telamon, I will send word to you when the shirts are completed." Jovani looks at Tel quizzically. "Are you still in the University District?"

Telamon nods firmly. "We are. You shouldn't have too much trouble finding the place." A quick check, to make sure the address is noted correctly.

Once that's done, Jovani puts away his measuring strip, and firmly embraces Telamon again. "Don't be a stranger," he says with a smile. "We need to sit down, sip some wine together, and share tales."

Cor'lana does flush a little at the compliment regarding her appearance. "You flatter me, Mister Jovani," she replies, "but I would certainly require extra tailoring, perhaps more work than it might be worth, for your ideas to fit on me. Besides, there are plenty of small, thin women out there already." Perhaps they're not of fey descent, however, and of a controversial repute that tends to get the noble interest in certain designers piqued.

She does nod at the last sentiment. "We have many tales to share," she says. "Some are rather sad. Others might make you rage. But as Telamon likes to remind me... we are writing better ones now." She can't help but smile as she takes Telamon's arm and leans into him for a moment, playfully reminding him that she does, in fact, listen to him and doesn't just admire the art.

Jovani leads the couple out down the hall. At the far end of the other branch of the T can be seen a heavy door, marked with the same goblet-and-sword symbol as outside. Evidently that's where the mysterious Vintner resides. Then you're back out into the main display room, and Kyndra nods wordlessly.

"That is the proper spirit, lady Cor'lana," Jovani replies to her, taking her hand again for a moment before releasing it. "The world has enough tears in it. Writing stories that bring joy and laughter -- even if they're only for you and Telamon -- that's a noble endeavor indeed."

Telamon pats Jovani on the shoulder. "I'll see you soon, old friend. I'll need to speak with the Vintner at some point -- if nothing else, I can send the letter to father telling him all is in order."

"Absolutely, signor! He is particular, the Vintner, but he won't object." Jovani seems pleased overall with the visit.

And then the pair are stepping out into the mists of the Noble District again, a far cry from the happy, cheerful place they were just inside.