Play the Cards

From Tenebrae
Revision as of 04:19, 25 April 2023 by Aftershock (talk | contribs) (Created page with "It's an unusual request to be sure. A minor noble of Alexandria had made a very specific request. Not to the guild, but to the temple of Daues. This request was for a small number of those who belong to the temple to come to their estate. This request it seems was given great weight by the church due to the fact that the noble house had been firm contributors to the temple for some time. So, at request you have shown up at the house of Sadul and Gera Friagrun. It's a la...")
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to navigation Jump to search

It's an unusual request to be sure. A minor noble of Alexandria had made a very specific request. Not to the guild, but to the temple of Daues. This request was for a small number of those who belong to the temple to come to their estate. This request it seems was given great weight by the church due to the fact that the noble house had been firm contributors to the temple for some time.

So, at request you have shown up at the house of Sadul and Gera Friagrun. It's a large estate, but bears more resemblance to a home grown up and added to over the years than to a proper manor.

Great, distributing church resources based on lobbyists and financial incentive. That rankles Lysa a bit, but she does what she is told by her superiors. Granted, the number of beings ranked higher than her has gone down a bit of late. Not a lot, just.. down.

But she shows up, on foot rather than on horseback. It's her style. It also lets her benefit more from her boots of fasty run. She lowers the hood of her cloak as she approaches the manor, and lets her golden gilded white plate armor engraved with symbols to Daeus speak for themselves.

GAME: Andelena rolls Knowledge/Nobility: (3)+5: 8

One of the other two that has been sent to this house does not look like someone who would normally be sent to a noble house. Lysa has seen the man before, but this time, he wears only a white and gold mantle over his breastplate that mostly conceals the leather cuff beneath that encases his left shoulder. He bears the longsword, but this time also a greatsword, drawn right-handed across his back. He is well-cleaned up, his gaze sober, sharp, and serious.

A Sunguard, a Corona, and a Sunblade walk into a bar. At least, that's the way that Andelena would prefer for this particular proceeding to go, but the joke is almost funnier this way. Or so she seems to think by the way she walks up to the manor, white cloak on top of mithral armor streaming in the wind, red hair carefully tucked under a helmet that only partially shows the scar on her face. Which is to say--she's smirking, just a little.

"Well, we've got one of everyone here, huh, Bry?" she asks Dolan as they walk up. Her hand rests on the hilt of a brilliant longsword herself. "Wonder what the hell's going on here, though."

Herself sporting that rare blade halfway between Dolan's Greatsword, and Andelena's Longsword.... Lysa gives a smirk of her own. "I am being wagering that we are about to be being informed what is going on." she says in her odd pigdin accent that blends like thirty seven dialects of common together into one complicated mouthful.

Her four and a half foot sword is worn on her back for a right hand draw, while at the same time, she wears a heavy flail over the opposite shoulder. One never knows when one might wish to bash rather than cut.

The door opens as you approach it. It seems that you are expected. The butler who opens the door welcomes you inside with a low bow and a sweep of the arm. Once everyone is gathered inside the man leads you to a door. This is opened, and though the butler does not enter the room, his voice precedes you in. "The guests that you have requested Master Friagrun."

You are motioned inside, but the butler doesn't follow you in. There are in fact two people present in the room that looks rather like a drinking room. There are several comfortable chairs around a fire, and a table in the middle with various liquors and some fresh tea available set out on it. The first of the two people and most immediately notable is the gentleman. He looks about forty years old or so. Old enough that there's some small gray hairs on the edges of his hair, but he still looks young and strong. He smiles warmly and quite broadly at your entry. "Welcome, welcome! Come in and seat yourselves!"

The other is a woman behind him. She is a small thing, but with a proud stance. It's hard to tell if she's some kind of servant or not the way she's standing behind the gentleman's chair and slightly to his side. Her hair is done up in a severe style, and her eyes have a sort of uncertainty in them.

GAME: Andelena rolls Will: (20)+10: 30 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (18)+11: 29
GAME: Lysa rolls will: (17)+14: 31

"Brightest of days, Master Friagrun, Lady Friagrun." Dolan allows himself the assumption, and turns his gaze towards the lady at his hand. It's a curious thing, watching him greet people - he turns his whole head to face them directly, one by one, but when he has done so, he places himself with Andelena on his right side. His gaze rests longer, though, on the appearance of the old man, and his eyes narrow. He doesn't say anything, though, not yet. "How can we help?"

Andelena takes the right side, and her gaze settles onto the old man as well. "Lady and Master Friagrun, we were sent by the Temple to aid," she says, finally looking away from the boy and onto the woman with a glance that studies her. The severe hairstyle, the clothes, everything. There's often suggestions that lay hidden in sight when it comes to the true state of a noble house, which she knows first-hand.

Indeed. Lysa was correct that they would know what was going on soon. But even while she rails at the idea of such a deception, her brain races. Perhaps the young child stands to inherit, but nobody will take him seriously at his age. Lysa knows that feeling well. She suffered from it.. not the inheritance part.. oh skip it.

So she doesn't call out. She doesn't point it out. She also has no idea that she is not the only one to see through the veil. Since Dolan asked the question, she merely nods and hooks her thumbs in her belt, waiting for now.

The two nod politely to Dolan's greeting. It seems that Dolan was right in his estimate that the woman standing at the 'gentleman's' side was in fact the lady of the house. "Please, sit down. I understand that you have come to my call, but allow me the curtesy of being your host." For all that the 'gentleman' is in fact now to your eyes little more than a ten-year-old boy, he has manners such as a lord of his station should have.

"We have much to discuss and such a short time for it. Little enough, but I hope that you will indulge me in making such gestures that my station affords me." He smiles here and the woman's eyes flicker to him. He motions towards the chairs and the cups.

At this, the woman moves forward, pouring a small amount of brandy into a cup for the boy who takes it and does not drink of it before looking at those gathered expectantly.

Dolan turns his head towards Andelena questioningly at the gesture, his remaining eyebrow raised. Clearly, he is looking for guidance from the redhead here, but why is not wholly clear.

Andelena gestures vaguely for Dolan to follow her lead, taking a seat and taking up one of the cups, holding hers up to be filled with the brandy. "Thank you for your hospitality, Master Friagrun. It is not often that we experience such." It's a softball of a compliment, but that's important when dealing with the nobility.

"I see you prefer brandy." That is an idle observation, but Andelena knows it's usually the way to get a nobleman talking and to open up. That is... if the nobleman isn't a child.

When you are a guest, it is only polite to accept hospitality. Lysa looks to the others before she nods and shrugs her shoulders. Then she steps forward and takes a careful seat so that her weapons don't clatter and damage the expensive furniture. She offers a polite smile and reaches for the glass offered to her. After all, drinking is practically a second religion for her. Just not to excess. She doesn't drink immediately, but she -does- lift the glass in a salute to the 'Man' of the house.

Again, she holds her tongue since the others are doing a great job of asking all the right questions. There is no need to fill the void with her rambling heavy accent that she is rapidly losing the love of.

The young lord - for that's what he seems to be smiles at Andelena's small talk. After the lady dispenses drinks for those that will take them, she returns to the side where she'd been standing before. She allows the boy to take the lead in these things. "Now that you have made yourselves comfortable, I will begin; rather than forcing you through pleasantries as to the quality of my brandy. You see, this family has been devoted to Daeus for some time now. It has been since our founder the great Hanul Friagrun," At this he motions to a well-maintained painting of a man who bears him great resemblance above the mantle. "Who felt he was called to the service of that great lord of lords."

He smiles here a small smile. "Our founder found fortune as well as peace in the service of Daeus, and so we have continued the tradition of service, though lately that has come more in a monetary form than in one physical." He looks down at the brandy in his hand. "My own father was in fact the last to hold a position within the church. He was a paladin. Like yourself lady." He nods to Lysa.

Taking his cue from Andelena, Dolan accepts the brandy as well, taking a small sip and listening to the explanation at hand. He studies the painting when it is brought to his attention, but returns his attention to the young lord, watching both him and the woman carefully. He seems to be content to let the girls do the talking for the moment.

GAME: Dolan rolls sense motive: (4)+20: 24

"I feel like your founder--and your father--would have gotten along with me," Andelena replies carefully. She, herself, hasn't taken a sip of the brandy yet since the host, himself, hasn't. And probably won't, considering his true self.

"What brings three members of the Temple here to your house, Master Friagrun?" the Sunguard finally asks. "Your house's devotion to the Knight is obvious, but there has to be a reason why you called."

Her blue eyes flickering towards the portrait, Lysa looks back and nods her head at the indication of the family member's service as a Dawnblade, Sunblade, Paladin, or any one of the fancy names people have ascribed to such warriors. She gives a tight smile as she nods, and makes a mental note.

"If I might be being offering a gift in recognition of service." She says as she reaches for her haversack, and from within she withdraws a bottle of her privately brewed mead. "This is being no fine vintage for a noble house. But it is being mead that I have brewed with mine own hands to be being honoring the Sunlord." Yeah, it's that metallic molten gold looking mead she makes. Just, one of her better brews, not the one she donates to taverns.

"Be also being considering it an exchange for your own fine bottle." she adds. Sure, just the smallest amount of smalltalk complimenting the brandy. But the bottle is set upon the table in offering. And she goes silent once more to give them the chance to get to the point.

GAME: Dolan rolls fortitude: (20)+13: 33 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)
GAME: Dolan rolls perception: (3)+16: 19
GAME: Lysa rolls diplomacy: (19)+12: 31

The lord nods politely. First to Andelena, then to Lysa. "You are both kind. Your offering means much to me lady." He nods to the bottle and lets it stay there the moment. "You ask though what brings you here. Trouble I fear. You see, though we have enjoyed a certain amount of protection and fortune from our dealings with Daeus... It has also led to trouble."

He shifts in his seat, looking at the three gathered and sighing. "This house has been in fact in a great deal of trouble of late. Fiends feed on the fringes of our people. Sending devilish servants, causing famine in our lands. And the most recent of things; the death of my own father at the hands of a fiend in the temple of Daeus itself."

There can be no doubt, from the look on both sides of Dolan's features, the immediate twist and the set down of the glass on the table, that Dolan knows _exactly_ what the lord is talking about. "Fuck," he swears reflexively, then immediately shuts his mouth and has the modicum of grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry. I - it almost killed Andie, too." He nods to the redhead next to him. "If we need to go after a fiend, I'll do it," he says at once.

It's at this point that Andelena removes the helmet from her head, allowing the red of her hair to spill out. She points to the scar on her cheek. "He's right. That fiend gave me this," she tells the lord. "Many of my allies fell with me that day in the Temple. Bry and I here have been looking to deal with the fiend who caused all of that anguish _personally_. Consider the two of us signed on. Justice needs to be done."

Just because she is a Paladin, does not make Lysa some blushing virgin. She grew up among rough and tumble mercenaries, and is a Stormgarder herself. Nothing wrong with saying the right words for the right situation.

But she herself stands slowly and looks to Dolan before turning her attention back to the young Lord. "I have not been being within the temple when that event occurred. I was being out aiding villagers in the region."

She hasn't put her helmet -on- yet. It's clipped to her belt in fact, but she nods, "No Sunblade would be being refusing such a quest. I am being in as well comrades." she says, addressing Dolan and Andelena. But with the mention of fiends being so close at hand now and then, she also narrows her eyes and slowly pans her eyes over the room while starting to concentrate on the auras in the area. Searching for those of evil origin.

This fact seems to surprise the boy, and he leans forward. "I... Did not expect them to send someone who had actually engaged the fiend that killed my father..." His eyes are full of soft emotion and the woman at his side has her hand firmly clasped over her mouth. She looks very much upset in fact. "Please. My father was Hjoh, do you... Perhaps remember him? Can you tell me..." He hesitates and raises a hand to his head.

"Forgive me. I forget the very reason I called you here. If you would but sit and drink with me; yes. I... I have more yet to tell you."

GAME: Lysa rolls sense motive: (14)+7: 21
GAME: Dolan rolls sense motive: (6)+20: 26
GAME: Andelena rolls Sense Motive: (2)+12: 14
GAME: Andelena rolls Sense Motive: (8)+12: 20
GAME: Lysa rolls perception: (3)+10: 13
GAME: Dolan rolls perception+3: (20)+16+3: 39
GAME: Andelena rolls Perception: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL)

All of Dolan's senses are trained on the boy's reaction, although the razor-sharpness of the artificial eye is a thing that only he sees. He sniffs briefly, and pushes the glass aside, reaching out to gently touch the boy's hand, take it in both of his in what is intended to look like a gesture of sympathy. "I came in on the end," he answers, quietly. "Do you know what happened to the fiend afterward?"

GAME: Andelena rolls 1d100: (9): 9
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+7: (4)+7: 11

"I'd like to take a moment," Andelena replies with an eye to the woman and then the boy, forgetting the cup in her hands. She has no intention of drinking. The matter of the moment is trained entirely on his grief. "I remember all the names of the fallen, Master Friagrun--I remember all who fought and fell with me on that day. I did not know your father personally, but rest assured there is at least one person within the Temple who remembers his name as a man of the Knight."

She knows what Dolan's doing with the boy. She focuses more on the principle of the matter. To buy him time for what he's doing, in truth.

Meanwhile, Lysa was about to just grab the glass and drink. It seemed an odd time to drink, when such important matters were being discussed and planned. But the mention of the fallen has her reaching for the glass, but not drinking from it. Her plan is to wait for the litany to be named and then toast them all at once at the end. She is perfectly willing to drink, but there is a correctness to the timing of it. So she hefts that glass wordlessly and awaits Andelena's lead.

"Yes." The boy says, blinking in surprise at his own word, as if he hadn't actually meant to say that precise thing. Gingerly he takes his hand out of Dolan's and settles back into his seat, trying very much to regain his composure. "I mean to say that we know it was defeated; presumably sent back to where it belongs."

He nods then to Andelena. "Your words again do you justice lady. That he is remembered is... it is a good thing." His eyes tighten and then he sighs. "Let us not speak a litany of the dead. Instead I would have us focus on the future. That we might be able to aid you and you us." He lifts his brandy to this.

Dolan's eyebrow lifts at that, both the remaining one and the ruined one, but he lets the boy's hand go, for the moment, instead sitting back. The look he wears, though, is less now one of sympathy, and more one of razor-sharp focus. "Look, my lord. I know this is a painful subject," he starts. "But if we're going to find the one who sent it, we need your help, because chances are very good it's in league with the ones plaguing your lands. Tell me the truth, my lord. What happened to the fiend after it was defeated?"

Andelena nods deeply to Dolan's words. "We just aren't gonna know unless we're told," Andelena says, gently. She wears a solemn sort of look in her eyes, like she knows the weight that the Master carries on his shoulders. "If you want us to get justice for your father--then we need to be fully armed and fully equipped with all the info we can gather."

Glancing back and forth, Lysa feels a little bit like a first grader here to help out the older fifth graders. She sets down her glass then and hooks her thumb back in her belt as she silent awaits for more developments. Again, Dolan asked the question, and she doesn't want to distract from that, so she merely waits for it to be answered.

It is not the boy's answer, but rather the woman's that draws perhaps more attention. It is in fact that tears begin to stream down her cheeks. Her hand is still notably clasped over her mouth and she utters nothing - not a single sound - in spite of her emotional outpouring. The boy shakes his head at Dolan. "In truth can we know? The fiend that plagues us may be the same - but who can tell such things? This is what we do know. The fiend has taken many forms of late. In truth there was some small hope that you could interview my staff and discern if they've been touched by evil. Though I hope not."

GAME: Dolan rolls sense motive: (18)+20: 38

"Fiends know where their own kind go, my lord." Dolan pushes his glass of brandy aside, the razor-sharp _stare_ used by the Coronae now virtually pinning the illusory man / boy to the wall, the pitiless gaze made all the more frightening by the mess that is his face. But, it is to his mother that the next words are directed, and they're more gentle. "I know that you did not raise your son to lie to the Coronae, but that is what he is doing. I don't think I need look any further to know where the fiend plaguing this house is."

"The time to come clean is _now_," Andelena adds, staring at the boy-not boy. "Speak freely. Speak plainly. Do not lie to the people who came all the way here at your request."

Blue eyes narrowing as she hears Dolan make those claims and accusations. Lysa steps closer to Dolan and says softly, "I am being sensing no auras that could be being associated with evil such as that under discussion."

A momentary pause before she shrugs, "My senses are not being infallible however." And though she keeps her hands off of her weapon grips, she -is- ready to go for them should the need arise.

GAME: Lysa rolls reflex: (18)+9: 27
GAME: Andelena rolls Reflex: (16)+4: 20
GAME: Dolan rolls reflex: (13)+5: 18
GAME: Dolan rolls fortitude: (17)+13: 30

The boy leans forward suddenly, his face furious. "It seems you dispense with pleasantries!" With that he throws the glass of brandy - mostly at Dolan who takes a face-full of the stuff. Droplets spray in every direction however; as liquid is wont to do. "Calling me a fiend in my own house! I challenge you sir!" He's on his feet.

The woman however, is rushing forward to place a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You can't!"

The boy looks at her, his rage still obvious on his face. "Of course I can! I will take no such insults! This is your fault woman! Unable to control... yourself!"

The woman turns an odd shade of grayish green at what the boy says.

A faceful of liquid is nothing new, and Dolan is left dripping, his eyes burning, but he stands straight and tall, shaking it aside and standing tall. "Bullshit, kid. If you were telling me the truth about being in the service of the Sunlord, you would have known better than to lie to me. You would have accepted the spell." Now the gloves are off. "She didn't expose you. You did. I'm smarter than you are, and that's not her fault. Fiends can conceal their auras easily," he adds to Lysa. "Even the Sunblades have a prayer to do that."

"Come on. Strike me now," he offers, waiting.

Andelena stands up with Dolan, staring at the woman. "And what do you have to say?" she demands of the lady. "Are you an accomplice? Or a victim? Maybe both."

Steel-grey eyes pierce through her. "Fess up. One of you will, one way or the other."

Okay. So much for -not- drawing a weapon. Lysa takes a step back from the others, clearing herself for action before her sword slides out into her grip. Her own eyes flit about the room, making herself aware of everyone in the area in case of an attempt to close in the jaws of a multi-person trap.

"Your backs are being covered." she says to Dolan and Andelena. And that said, she actually turns her back on the boy and mother to protect her teammates' backs by going back to back with them.

The boy's eyes firm, and he... is not in fact tall enough to strike Dolan as is proper, but he glares at the other man. "Consider yourself struck." He defers then, waving the woman back and she veritably trembles from head to toe. "I will meet you at noon in a place of your choosing, with the weapon of your choice. Otherwise all will know you as coward!"

-TBC