Were you There?

Log Info

• Title: Were you There?
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Merek, Rigby, Sabina
• Place: A01: Western Gates
• Time: Thursday, March 11, 2021, 12:49 PM
• Summary: Cryosanthia, disguised as a newsie with red scales, attempts to find witnesses to Delilah's execution while Little Fang plays nearby. She encounters Merek who is out and about and using magic to avoid arrest, as well as Rigby and Sabina. The first was a participant, and the latter two weren't present, so she gets something. Sabina invites them for food, and Rigby advises that the roads are dangerous, and any perpetraitors should far, far away if they are smart. Statements given, they wander off while the sith'makar polls the public further.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A01: Western Gates *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The western gates of the city are also called the Phoenix Gates for the carved, marble phoenix whose wings stretch down to form a grand arch wide enough to accommodate several wagon teams at once. The phoenix has been carefully carved. Though age has obscured some of the details, it's clear that at one point it was possible to make out the vanes running down each individual feather. Its fiery eyes appear to follow onlookers and while it seems to welcome travelers inside, there's an implicit warning in its stern gaze to those who might wish the city harm. Overhead, the fiery flag of Alexandria, dubbed Phoenix Rising, flies proudly.

At the base of the gates there's a small lodge to house the members of the Watch who stand guard here, who watch people as they enter and exit and occasionally ask for identification papers.

Inside the gates the ancient facade suddenly looks more modern; a complicated series of pulleys, levers, mana-powered rune plates and the like are attached to huge gates which, rumor has it, can close faster than the gates of any other city thanks to the incorporation of artificer technology.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Merek        5'10"    215 Lb     Human             Male      A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.
Rigby        5'10"    170 Lb     Human             Male      Ponytailed Acanian with curled moustache and pointed beard.
Sabina       5'4"     130 Lb     Human             Female    Tsuran woman of dark hair and green eyes
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

"Excuse me were you at..."

"Hello! This one is looking for..."

"Ma'am-Sir! Were you a witnessss..."

A redscaled Sith'makar woman wearing newsboy clothing is interrupting passers-by, unsuccessfully. She has a flat cap, a long sleeved shirt, shorts with suspenders and a clipboard with a very thick pad of paper.

Nearby, a Sith'makar youngling with a similar scale-pattern is hanging out with the gate guards. An older Sith'makar one in particular. The youngling has a small crossbow, which is unloaded, and she marches back and forth on a short loop beside the real guard.

Her clutch-mother is keeping a close eye while striving to complete her task.

Merek walks along and to the city, the scent of wood smoke following him while he avoids the guards with magic that seems to be keeping him from being easily noted. He does keep both hands to his pockets while he wears a shemagh along his features, dark attire on. He comes upon the sith'makar, noting the one that seems to be in the flat cap looking for news.

The man draws a cigarette from that pack in his pocket, while he begins lighting it with magic, then he takes a puff from it, the smoke shifted about into air while he places a hand to his cheek to scratch along while he watches.

Cryo's jaw drops when she see's Merek, he's going to risk it? Does the man have no sense of self-preservation? She leans her head back, closes her eyes, presses a knuckle against her forehead. Not her performance carnival, not her trained simians. She exhales carefully. Might as well keep up the pretense.

"Ma'am-Sir! This one is looking for witnesses at the Execution a few weeks ago." The redscale holds out the poster advertizing Delilah's Doom, "Were you present?"

Merek looks to the poster while he takes a moment to consider it, then he nods a bit to the sith'makar. He has no idea it's Cryosanthia, probably. Who knows when it comes to that man. "Ah, well... I think I will be able to answer any questions you might want to ask." The man takes a puff from that cigarette while he draws the shemagh fully along his features. Unless people met him or are as close as the woman, they at least shouldn't know that it is Merek.

There's a look to the city while he takes the time to consider.

"This one is seeking witness statements for the Alexandrian Tribune," The redscale chirps happily, pushing one suspender forward and showing off a 'Press' emblem. "They will also be used in the upcoming defense against the riot charges that several present are facing."

A turn of her head, she checks where her redscale youngling is. Still over by Patroller Ichtacka, still checking the entrants to Alexandria. She turns back.

"In your own words, what you saw, as best as you remember from beginning to end. I'll enscribe and you can sign your mark to it." She gets ready with a pen.

Merek peeks from the shemagh with that golden gaze, taking the time to think about it. He nods to the sith'makar, "Well... All I can remember really is that while we were standing in the crowd, we saw some people come from the scaffold, I could not say for sure what I remember, but they kept the executor from doing his job. There was a force field placed upon the scaffold while a mage began to launch magic into it. I saw some man, looked like an elf, they were trying to protect people in the stands."

The man thinks about it, "Well, I know there was a lot of fighting upon the scaffold, a guard member even shot another member of the guard. It looked like the one that was leading the whole execution tried to do it himself. They kept him from doing it, they didn't even try to kill anyone. It makes me wonder if there's something about the guard we're not knowing."

"We?" The redscaled sith pops her nose up, "The Royal 'We', or were you with someone that could corrobrate?"

Scribble, scribble, scribble. This newsie has excellent penmanship. She's writing slowly, in tradespeak, but all the letters have Sildanyari stylings to them, extra curves and serrifs.

"Did 'the elf' cast the force field, or was it someone else. The mage that was launching magic, that was not 'the elf', do you have a description for him or her? Could you describe the sorts of magic launched."

She moves down her page, leaving some space, writes 'At the Scaffold', then asks, "At the scaffold. So you saw a guard shoot another guard, and another guard try to do the executioner's job? Hmm... I'm not sure that's legally allowed. Who was this 'they', that kept 'him'. Could you describe the 'they' and 'him' please?"

Merek needs to answer each one, he needs to answer them perfectly. He nods a bit, "We, the people of the city! We watch for making sure that the guard will do all they can to protect the people. The Magi that was with the people saving the prisoner was the one that put up the force field. The elf was an... Older one, perhaps. Looked like he was protecting the noble stands. I don't think I would be able to give a good description, but he's well known in the city. Looked like he was trying to protect the folk watching from the stands."

The next question, "Yes, can you imagine even with a force field shooting at a public execution? They shot another of the guards. The people on the scaffold, looked like two of the goblinfolk, along with a magi, looked human." He then nods, "That guy looked pretty awesome." The man then smiles, "I also believe that there was a human woman. You probably saw the posters, you know more than me. They all were doing their best to save that woman. The guard which was trying to execute the woman anyway, it looked like that Captain, Norrington? I don't know, he seemed to be upset. The magi which was back in the crowd launching spells, might be a halfling, well I don't know. They were aiming for the people on the scaffold. I have to say I'd put into question the guard putting the people at risk than the ones saving the woman."

Rigby is on his way out of the city, on some errand or another. He has on a wide brimmed traveling hat, along with his usual attire, in a tone of russet that matches his brigandine vest. A pipe hangs from his mouth, caught between his front teeth- though at the signt of the newswoman he takes the pipe out for a moment, peering over at them and listening intently. He decides, eventually, to interject. "I'm sorry, I've just recently come to the city. You speak of a group on the lam?" he wonders. "Do you happen to know if they've a bounty set?" he wonders, wandering a bit closer, one hand holding onto the sling for his rifle to keep it from jostling and the other clutching his pipe by the bowl.

"Well I'm just a reporter but the press never sleeps!" The eager intern bounces on her heels, tail bobbing as she writes, writes, writes. Check the youngling, youngling is fine, write some more.

"Awesome... human... mage. Got it. And the goblins. These Arvek Nar?" She shuffles through her papers, holds up two wanted posters for 'Mourner Ashlee Ciaradh' and 'Elyanna de Ville'. She continues, "The guards should... investigate Norrington... endangering... the crowd. And Halfing Mage. Not hot, not cool."

She jumps between the two sections on her page, filling in details where appropriate, then holds it for Merek to see, "Can you read this and tell me if it's complete or there's anything else you might want to add?"

The redscales Sith'newsie turns to Rigby, looks him up and down. "Yes, ah... there are, different bounties for each of them, dead or alive." She displays the two recently shown to Merek, and brings out a couple others.

Merek looks to the paper which Cryosanthia seems to be writing, while he takes a moment to adjust the shemagh which he wears, even that gaze looks shifted a little. When it looks like the posters will be shown, still it's difficult to identify him. "Ah, I think it's those two, the only thing that I think to add, would be that I wonder why go through that to save the woman. The feats of magic were extraordinary, and it looks like they did not want to fight the guards. There's probably things to this that we don't know!" A nod along to Rigby.

Rigby leans in to take a closer look at the posters when they are presented, and he whistles in appreciation, "A princely sum. They must be dangerous indeed." he muses, and stands upright again. He puts the stem of his pipe back into his lips, and takes a draw, expelling a strong smelling tobacco cloud shortly thereafter. "I expect theyd've left the city long behind had they any sense." he says then. "Mayhap alighted to some nation unlikely to hand them over to Alexandria. Bludgun, mayhaps- the hobgoblins at least. Or perhaps Charn." he suggests.

Cryosanthia adds a third section to her sheet, titled 'Great Mystery!', filling in the details that there must be some reason they went to great lengths to try and save this murderess through non-lethal means, while the guards seemed reckless in that regard. Very extraordinary magic. She strikes out the blank sections, drawing a rectangle then a line, so nothing can be added afterwards.

"Would you sign your name here?" She calls over to the Sith'makar gate guard with Junior G'makar guard, "Ichtacka! Witness that a citizen gave this and signed it?" Ichtacka, if that is his real name, stares her way and makes a thumbs up gesture.

The redscale focuses on Rigby next, getting a second sheet and a second board, and writes down his speculations. "Okay. Indeed, I guess so, I don't know them. Do you have any... evidence they're going for Charn? Or Bludgun? Heard it from someone who heard it from them. Were you present at the Execution, could you give any witness statements if so? We have soooooo much speculation, which is great for the gossip column and the Pen! Um... right now, this one is looking for hard facts!"

Merek looks to the newspaper while he takes a moment to sign a name. It's not his name. It's an older one, Stineford. The man nods a bit to Cryosanthia while he takes a moment to look to the guards coming by to witness the signing. He keeps bowed a little in respect. Which perfectly places the shemagh that covers all his features to cover his gaze as well.

The man is pretty intelligent and knows when to be quiet, when to present the facts. Chaos, is an artform in its own way.

Sabina enters the area at a smooth walk, dressed in her normal dark dress and mithral half-mask on her face. The Tarienite grinning wildly as she nods to passers by. The bright plumage of Emp, her peacock, lays neatly down her back as he perchs on her shoulder.

She sidesteps a gawker and then gently rebuffs a woman trying to sell her beaded necklaces before moving onwards.

"Evidence... not quite. But you could consider me an expert witness, of sorts." Rigby says, offering a winsome smile. "And it's what I'd have done, in their shoes. Make for a hostile nation, at least to begin. In the long run, the Jade Isles sound like they are lovely this time of year. Blar... too orderly, they'd like as not respect the law of Alexandria, even if they are on uneasy terms. In Veyshan, coin is king, and there's no shortage of bounty hunters willing to ply their trade." he says- pointing with his pipe stem to punctuate each point. "Bludgun is near enough, and not like to care let alone do anything about a few criminals from Alexandria. The Jade Isles are distant, and would make a good spot- or further afield to distant Xian, mayhaps. But there's a risk there, you'd need to steal or charter a boat or airship to make that journey." he says then.

Ichtacka strolls over slowly, an unhurried reptilian gait which has an easy roll to it and a counterbalancing sway of his tail. He is orbited by the little red youngling, running circles on the cobblestones. The Sith'makar guard stares at shemagh shrouded man for a moment, inhaling his scent. He follows this by making a mark on the same sheet. Wordlessly, he turns around an lumbers back to his gate position.

Cryo takes the sheet and slips it to the bottom of her pad. There are a few others there. "Thanks so much, Mr Stineford! It's great that Alexandria has upstanding citizens like you."

She's writing again, filling out the page for Rigby, scribing in her tradespeak with flair. "Yes... that makes sense. Jade Isles... Blar unlikely... Veyshan coins. Might not risk a boat... airship.

Her head pops up from the page, and she smiles carefully when she returns the winsome smile. Hers... has all those teeth. "Anything more you can think of?"

The redscale youngling has noticed Sabina, is bouncing and about to run her way. She's interrupted by a hiss, "Noo..." and a hand on her shoulder. <draconic>

Instead, Cryosanthia calls out. "Miss with the Peacock! Were you present at the execution?"

Merek waits for the man to make his way back to the gate. He watches to see if he will offer any conversation with anyone, and when it looks like things will be safe, the man nods a bit to Cryosanthia, while he considers the words that Rigby speaks, "I would've guessed Jade Islands. Anywhere that's far away. I don't think we'll ever know. And... From what I saw, it's not people I would want to be fighting with."

The man looks to Sabine, from the shemagh, and doesn't speak. In the way that he is at the moment, he must pretend like he doesn't know the woman. He does listen while he smiles to the sith'makar, "Thank you," at being called an upstanding citizen.

Rigby ponders that, the hand that had been holding his rifle sling letting go, as he needs it to stroke his beard. It springs back, maintaining its curved point, when he releases it. "They'd do well ti find allies to shelter them. Syndicate, perhaps, though usually one needs to know them /before/ the heist for them to be of any use. And they're not fond of flashy displays." he says then. "Of course, there is another possibility." he says, pausing dramatically, to take another draw on his pipe which was just threatening to go out. The embers in the bowl glow cheerily after the breath. "They could be dead on the road. The roads are dangerous, and doubly so when you must avoid the inns and waystations."

Bina pauses and offers her smile towards those gathered and the reporter. "Miss with the Peacock says hello. Sabina of Tarien and sadly I was not here to see all the ruckus." She looks down at the small sith and hisses out a few words of Draconic. //Greetings. Peace on your nest.//

She sighs then and tsks. "I've heard rumors but haven't heard the specifics. Much rumor. Little truth. People being arrested and brought in for assisting the prisoner escape."

"There are many fine citizens in Alexandria," The redscale newsie Sith chirps happily, she is an energetic one. Her smile turns into a... hard to say what it becomes, some strange lizard expression. "So many called 'Leftie'. Each Leftie was different, this one swears, even if all you softskins look alike! And 'Slippery Kheate', he's in the Oil business. Fish oil. Makes his hands very smooth. Plus 'Biggles of No Fixed Address', that's his last name. He's a wanderer. And now you mister Stilton. Stillhorne. Stile... this is excellent!"

Back to the business at hand! She enscribes Rigby's thoughts, "Dead... on the road. That is a possibility. They are dangerous. This one always takes a swiftclaw when travelling. Oooo! And the Syndicate, we haven't had any news about them in a long time. This is a fascinating possibility!"

As she's writing, the redscale adds, "Oh, avoid the Waystation on Kulteri road, it's a quarantine camp right now."

"Peace on your nesst!" The little redscale says, hugging Sabina's leg, then biting at her knee. Lightly. She is not hungry for kneecaps today. <draconic>

The larger redscale nods to the Tarienite, "Sabina of Tarien, Peace on your Nest. This one is getting witness statements for the Alexandrian Tribune. We're investigating, many random people in the crowd seem to have been arrested but are no part of some alleged 'escape conspiracy', simply doing their best to avoid getting hurt."

Merek takes a little bow to the sith'makar, while he nods a bit. He decides to be honest and smile, "Well, it's great that we have people looking for the truth. I think that's what the news should always present to the people." The man looks to Sabina and to Rigby, "Stineford, it's a pleasure." It looks like he is about finished with the whole conversation. He does wait to see if anything of note might be said all in all.

"So I'd heard." Rigby responds, on the topic of the waystation. "I'd been planning to give it a wide berth." he says, "I'd thought to head afield. With the spring season, there's pay in culling off the wolves and foxes that skulk too near the farms." he gives a dramatic sigh, indicating his lack of entheusiasm for the work. "Another day, another gold piece, eh?" he wonders and offers the redscale a wink.

Bina nods to Stineford. "A pleasure." She then tsk at Rigby. "There may be a need but there is also a sadness to the work , yes?" She says gently as she just as gently prys the small Sith from her knee before lifting the small red up and into her arms. "Goodness. You should stop by the Tarrace so I can get you fed. You must be hungry." and then she chuckles. "Tell me. Were there any deaths durring the escape? Serrious injury?"

The redscale nods vigorously to Mr. Stineford's observations, enough she has to push her flat cap back between her horns. She adds a few more notes to the sheet she's working on for Rigby, then says, "Since this is not a witness statement, this one won't need it signed or noted by the guards. I should quote you as an 'expert source', for where they might have gone?"

She peers and reads it back to herself, lips moving faintly as she does, "it's almost a Bounty Hunting guide. OH! The Tribune could issue a bounty hunting guide."

Then she gasps, did he say...? "A gold piece! This one wishes she got a gold piece a day. It's copper and sometimes a silver for these red-scales." The talk of gold pieces has also caught her youngling's attention, and she stares with naked avarice.

"Yesssss." The youngling peeps, though it's not clear if she means the gold, the injuries, or the need for food. The larger redscale elaborates, "Yes. Serious injury, no deaths. One of the guards was shot in the throat by another guard and nearly died. Several in the crowd got roughed up on guard shields. Things were thrown, a few guards were injured, some of the crowd didn't restrain themselves to rotting food. There were several spells, lightning, a fog cloud, a force field, even a fireball! Amazingly, that was in the air, so no one was hurt either. One of the noblewomen suffered a collapse, cause unknown. This one wasn't there, but the reports are it was quite chaotic."

Merek marks a few notes on the map he keeps with him, while he takes a moment to listen to the conversation. He will begin to adjust his shemagh while he walks along from the place, at least for the moment. As much that he wants to talk to people, he has a lot to do, and he needs to keep safe while he watches.

Rigby shrugs his shoulders at Bina, "If I don't do it, someone else will." he says. He glances back towards the redscale, "Well for this manner of work? A gold coin is unlikely." he admits. "But a man can be ambitious, can he not? Mayhap I'll stumble upon a cache along the road." he muses. He has neglected his pipe too long, this time, and it has gone out now. He taps it against the side of his boot to loosen the ashes, and pulls out a tindertwig. Strikes it, and then light it once more with a series of short puffs. "Sounds less like a breakout and more of a pitched battle." he says then.

The Tarienite hmms softly. "Pitched battle. It could have been but doubtful. And for a breakout in such a public place with such spells being used it's either a miricle that no one was killed... " She looks at the reporter, "..or they were trying hard not to kill anyone. And what would desperate and 'vicious ruffians' care if they hurt others breaking someone free, hmm?" SHe then looks at the small sith in her arms, /So which food is your favorite?/

"The common folk held that the convicted murderess was framed by nobility and corrupt elite guardsmen," The redscale newsie says chipperly, then makes a little punching motion in the air, "but don't you worry, the Tribune will get to the bottom of this! We love raking through the muck to find the truth."

She's confident and sounds pleased about the possibility. Sith'makar are swamp lizards. It may be in their nature. "This one has never found a coin cache along the road, but I do keep looking. Good luck to you, my expert opinion person!"

She nods to the Tarienite, "This one agrees! Right at this moment one of Alexandria's greatest defenders is languishing in jail. He saved everyone from the magic plague. He's not a viscous ruffian, and if something happened, like a dead god coming back to life, well... he wouldn't be free to help. There's something going on, and we at the Tribune are collecting statements to right this wrong!" She is on a crusade.

"Meatsss. Candy Meat! Beef in stew. Chickens. Chicken soup. Hydra cheek soup. Scorpion meat shiskabob." The little redscale knows which food she likes, and some of the things on the Tarrace's menu too. <draconic>

Merek of course while beginning to leave would note something said, perhaps Candy Meat. Though that's probably about the fact that someone mentioned a few notes of the magic which was used. He would of course wait a moment while he thinks about it, "Ya, there was a lot of magic, it was chaotic, a lot to really think about."

Rigby gives a brief chuckle, "Nobles framing someone? Gods forbid." he muses, with a faint smirk. "Not the first time, I'm sure, and surer still it's not the last either." he says. "Well, best fortune with that. I'm certain you'll need it." he says, in regards to the righting of wrongs. "In my experience the pen, is not in fact, mightier than the sword."

Sabina laughs softly as she sets the small one down. /Hydra cheek soup! You have a fine eye for flavor/ she tells her and then looks up and towards the others. "Sadly correct.. the pen is rarely mighter then the sword. But truth or lies applied correctly can often move swords to action."The bird on her shoulder pecks at the top of her head and she sighs. "Yes Emp. I know.. out to find the hens.. yes.." She puts on a brighter smile and nods to them all again. "Also sadly I must away. A pleasure."

"I have a very pokey pen," The redscale assures with a grin, miming thrusting motions, a parry and a riposte.

The little redscale gives Sabina another leg hug with no knee-nibbling, "Peace on your Nests. Coming for Soup!" <draconic>

"Thank you for your thoughts and observations. This one will include them in the article." The redscale bows towards Sabina as well, "Also, Peace on your Nest. Enjoy the day."

As her current crowd seems to be dispersing she looks around and calls out, "Anyone, Witness to the failed execution? Inquiring Newspapers want to know!"

Rigby doffs his hat as the Redscale goes looking for new people to harry for her story, "Good day to you." he offers. He grips the rifle sling once more, and then turns away and begins making his way down the path away from the city.

And with that, Merek makes his way along properly. He will find a place that he can begin to activate his teleport, then he begins to shimmer while it seems to become blue circles that transport him to the next place.

The redscale returns to her questering pestering, calling out at random folk, "Excuse me were you at the execution... Hello could I have a statement... Do you know what happened here a few weeks ago..." To little success.

Her redscale youngling returns to marching like a guard, around her clutch-mother this time, and occasionally tugging at her shorts and pointing. "Go for food now?" <draconic>

"A little longer," is the hissing response, "Did anyone...?"

She interrupted, by a gruff, alto goblin's voice. "Down here! I saw it all. Who wants to know?"

"Oh!" The redscale steps back. Descending to kneel and be the goblin's height might be seen as too condescending. Still, looming over her could also be taken as quite rude. Cryo is easily twice her height, and gets that feeling she often does around small people that if she stands too close they're going to see up her skirt. Or shorts, as today's ensemble is. She takes another half-step back as a good measure, and leans a little. "The Alexandrian Tribune. This one is doing a story. The whole truth hasn't gotten out. It deserves to."

"Oh yeh?" grunts the Goblin, "You one a them noble sickos.... psychos... sychos... pants-pants. A suck-up? You a noble sook? I'll bash yer kneecaps off."

The little redscale interposes herself, holding her tiny, unloaded crossbow, and rattles off something in apparent fluid goblin-speak. The other blinks, focusing on her and not the mom, and replies.

Their conversation continues, while the larger redscale stares and waits. Finally the goblin switches back to tradespeak, "Yer kid says you just fancy talk, you're not a stuck-up elitist who thinks she's better than everyone else."

"Ah... thanks." Cryo says carefully, then hisses, "When did you learn to speak goblin?"

"Buying partsss. Goblintown." <draconic>

"Oh. Yes. This one had to learn to fit in better." The large redscape chews on her pen-tip briefly, "So, could you say in your own words what happened? This one will put it in the paper, and use it to get some people out of jail."

"Well them nobles had it in for her. You'd think they were at a cock-fight cheerin' for blood. Those high-falutin' guards knew they were deep in the shit and didn't want ta get their hands dirty, so they got a Gnoll in fer the chop-chop." The goblin stamps her feet.

"Crowd's'all, 'D's innocents!', and 'faked evidence' and the big head guy is just 'whack her head off as fast as you can so they don't stop us'. Then someone tries, these Arvek Nar and golems just come out of no where, grab the girl and git while Noble-boy is choppin' away at her neck but the blade won't go through. So this little gnome mage is flinging fireballs and lightning, doesn't care where, and Guardy boots all decide it's time to crack heads and go into the crowd wailing."

"This elf opens up a magic food hall and everyone runs in there to escape, while the hobs get the girl and poof. Gone. Magic."

Scribble, scribble, scribble, scribble. Cryo writes quickly to keep up, "That is very detailed. This one thanks you. Anything further you can think of?"

"Guards was shooting guards, that only happens when a bunch is paid off." The goblin asserts. This note is added. Cryo completes the page with boxes and strikes, and a place for a signature. "Would you sign this?"

"Hells no I ain't signing anything. Good way to get a knife in the throat."The redscale thinks carefully, her tail swishing back and forth. "You're too small to stab in the throat. It would go right over your head, because a stupid human assassin would be trying to do that, and you know to watch your back, and throat."

She glances over at the Sith'makar guard at the gate, then back, "He's a good guard. This one has spoken. He is still the people under the armour. It will be ok."

The little redscale says something next. She's also leaning forward, has a similar supplicating posture as her clutch-mother, but speaks in goblin and uses a lot fewer words.

The goblin stares at her for a moment, then looks up. "Ok. I'll sign. Only cause your kid is smart so you can't be half-bad."

She holds up her hands for the clipboard, which is passed down, a signature applied, and passed back. "Now take her for lunch."

"Yes. Of course. Thank you." The redscale calls, "Ichtaka, this one needs your witnessing again."

He trundes over, signs, is about to go when the Redscale says, "Would you like me to bring you some Candy Meat?"

"Sssaa." The Sith'Guard replies.

"Thank you again!" Cryo looks down at her sheet, "'Lefty'. Thanks so much! Com Lisshssurr...lush. Leshush!"

A hand is held out, daughter takes mom's, and the two take a break.

Dramatis Personae

Rigby
Standing just shy of average height, this Acanian man in his early thirties has faint crows feat flanking his hazel eyes. He has an aquiline nose under which a bushy reddish moustache sits, well trimmed and curled upwards at the tips. His light brown hair is pulled into a ponytail at the base of his skull. His angular chin sports a beard, trimmed and waxed to a jutting point. He has a lean, fit physique- not particularly bulky, but well toned.

He wears a loose fitted white shirt shirt with a deep v neckline. The wrists of the shirt are tied but flare out. Over this he wears a russet brigandine vest buckled down the sides. A bandolier crosses from his right shoulder to under his left arm, with a number of cartridges for a long rifle. He wears a pair of fitted leather trousers, tanned brown. His sword belt usually bears the slender form of a basket-hilted rapier. He usually carries a long rifle hung across his back, and sometimes sports a buckler in his left hand.