Signing up for Trouble

Posted on 10 Dec 2020 @ 1:23am by Warrior Martin Josceran & Rogue Elinowy Ursulas & Mage Kalian Winter

1,847 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Lore's Labour's Lost
Location: Raven's Roost
Timeline: Cloudreach 17th - morning

It was quite early when Martin came to the Raven's Roost, dressed in civilian clothing. The tunic may have been white once, years ago ; now it was sort of brownish and threadbare. The patchy trousers weren't much better. Martin had kept his standard issue boots, figuring that would work with pretending to be a disgraced guard or mercenary. After a long hesitation he'd decided to leave his sword behind. Swords were expensive, and not something that someone desperate enough to take this job would carry.

This aside he hadn't done anything to his appearance, except neglecting to shave this morning. The faint stubble gave him a roguish look, he thought. Maybe he should keep it even after this investigation was over.

He pushed the door to the inn. A couple of patrons were having breakfast in the common room, and the smell of fresh coffee lingered in the air. Kalian's sister seemed to be overseeing everything with the mastery of a knight-commander. She was so serious, compared to Kalian's more easy-going demeanour, it was strange to think they'd received the same education. Then again... under his carefree veneer, Kalian was a dedicated man ; as evidenced by his volunteering to help with the current situation. Martin gave Tessa a friendly wave.

"Good Morning, Martin," said Tessa, welcoming Kalian's new friend with a worried look. Her brother had tried to reassure her that he would be fine, escape or evasion was easy for a person of his talents. But, Tessa was more concerned about what could happen if and when the guardsman and the unusual Chantry sister saw those talents in action. "Have you eaten? Please, help yourself."

"Oh - thanks," Martin said. He filled a mug with the aromatic black brew and took a sip, taking his time to savor it. Raoul had many qualities but he preferred tea in the morning, even though Martin had tried to show him the error of his ways. He'd given up in the end, and usually got his fix at the guard station, but the quality of Tessa's coffee was much better. Freshly ground, it seemed. "Thank you for your hospitality. I hope I'm not imposing. I don't want to take advantage of Kalian's kindness."

"You're not imposing. I'm happy to do what I can to help. It's the way Kalian and I were raised," said Tessa. Her brother was so excited to be doing something for his community. He hated always hiding his skills, but he did it so he could continue to be a part of her family and a part of her life. If Kalian was found out now, where would he go, what would he do?

Tessa appeared to be preoccupied still. In fact she'd been preoccupied the night before, too, and Martin couldn't blame her. He felt a little stab of guilt at the thought that he was letting Kalian get involved in Guard business. If he could have counted on the help of his fellow guards, he could have refused Kalian's well-intentioned offer ; but he didn't, and he was lucky that he hadn't been formally forbidden from pursuing this investigation, be it on his free time.

"Look, I... I just want you to know that I'll do my best to keep Kalian safe." He wanted to say more, but no matter how he tried to express it, it sounded awkward, so he just gave her a slightly forced smile.

"My brother is remarkably resourceful. The Maker blesses each of his children with different gifts, and Kalian promised me he wouldn't do anything stupid. I'd rather you promised he didn't end up incarcerated," said Tessa with a crooked smile as though she were making a joke, but she was thinking of Kalian locked in a circle tower. She gave Martin a genuinely fond smile. "He likes and respects you, Martin. So do I."

Kalian came down the stairs from his room, wearing an old pair of trousers and a patched tunic, a ragged cape that had once belonged to his father over his arm. Otherwise his appearance was much the same as usual. He'd changed his mind several times, but finally decided to leave his staff behind. Without his staff it would be harder to focus his magic, especially at a distance. But his staff could be confiscated, and he hoped not to need it.

"Martin!" Kalian greeted him with a wide grin, enthusiastic about the day ahead. He picked up a pain au chocolat from the table and bit into the sweet, flaky, buttery goodness. A smudge of chocolate at the side of his mouth, Kalian spoke with his mouth full. "So good. You have to try these, Martin. Coffee?" He picked up the pot with his other hand.

"Thanks, your sister was kind enough to offer me some already," Martin lifted his mug as way of proof. "Won't say no to the pain au chocolat though."

The pastry was an Orlesian staple, but the chocolate itself must be imported from Rivain. That was the advantage with Jader being a port city, they had access to a wider variety of goods. And Kalian's family had Rivaini roots, maybe they still had ties to that country that gave them more opportunities for trade. The pastries were definitely amazing, still lukewarm from the oven.

As he ate, Martin eyed Kalian's disguise. His clothes were just as ragged as Martin's, and he would have looked properly miserable were it not for the bliss permeating his face as he took his first sip of coffee. They both looked a little bit too well-fed to be truly paupers, but that could work to their advantage ; clearly the people behind the flyer were looking to hire people in a good physical condition. Kalian had a bit less muscle than Martin perhaps, but still looked in good shape.

"So what's our cover story then ?" Martin asked after he swallowed his mouthful. "You got kicked out by your sister after you kept feeding freeloaders for free, and I got dishonourably discharged after accepting bribes in the guise of pain au chocolat ?"

"Yup, that works," said Kalian with a grin, then stuffed the last bite into his mouth and picked up another chocolate-filled croissant. "But to make it convincing, a man like you wouldn't want to talk about why you were dishonorably discharged." Much like the guardsman didn't talk about why he left the templars. But Kalian wasn't going to ask about that. Martin was entitled to his secrets, just like anyone.

As they talked together, a woman in a yellowed shawl covering an aged outfit that was far too tight moved from a nearby table over to them. She approached slowly. "Do you kind gentlemen have anything to help a downtrodden woman of the streets?" she said in a strong voice that made an effort to sound weak and frail. The woman's face smiled at them. The striking blue eyes and splash of red hair falling out from the shawl made it quite obvious who it was, not to mention the unusual height of the poor woman.

"Good morning, sister Elinowy," said Kalian, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and adding to his own unkept disguise. Under that old shawl, the tight tunic left far less to the imagination that her chantry robes, and Kalian took unabashed pleasure in appraising the sister's disguise. "I must say that you are beautiful no matter what you're wearing. But if I may make a suggestion… If you identify yourself as a woman of the streets, people may jump to an unintended conclusion about your, uh, profession."

Elinowy looked a bit perplexed at Kailian's comment. "...you mean...." she looked down at herself and briefly turned herself about, assessing her tight shirt and pants. She suddenly broke out in laughter. "I had not considered that. Oh my." she said laughing at herself.

"Wasn't that on purpose ?" Martin said with a slight grin, before he remembered who he was talking to. "Uh, no offense, sister. I just assumed the, er, assumption, was part of your disguise." He paused. The Sister's outfit really was more revealing than he would have liked, being at least two sizes too small. He didn't want the people they were tangling with to get any ideas. "Are you... quite sure that this is the best outfit for our mission ?"

A serene look returned to Elinowy's face. "This was the outfit prodvided. The Maker considers it to be adequate for our needs. I will not question it. If I must keep the facade of a common trollop, then there is a need for it." she stated confidently, while at the same time draping the shawl lower to cover more of her chest.

Obviously there would be no disputing the Maker's will with Sister Elinowy. Martin would just have to accept that she knew what she was doing. Maybe she was right after all - other people would be too busy oggling to take a good look at her face.

"If you're sure," he conceded, bowing his head. "I suggest we keep using our real names. Sister Elinowy is a newcomer so won't be known, and Martin is a common enough name. Though your name is a bit more unusual, Kalian, so maybe you should pick a fake name ?"

Martin wasn't worried so much about Kalian, but about his sister and their business. If he was recognized and they successfully put an end to whatever was going on, it might leave a few dangerous people feeling less than charitable about the three of them. Martin had no family in Jader, nor Sister Elinowy, but Kalian did.

"A fake name?" Kalian shrugged. "Do you really think I need one?"

The tavern's back door opened and Kalian's niece Iris ran in, followed by her father Ben carrying baby Gabriel. Kalian picked up Iris, and she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Tessa encircled them both in an embrace, then Ben shifted the baby to one side and squeezed them all with one arm. Yes. Yes, Kalian needed a fake name, to protect his family.

"What do you think, Iris?" asked Kalian of his imaginative niece. "I'll be playing pretend and dress-up. What should my pretend name be?"
Iris frowned and thought as seriously as a four-year-old can. "You're Korbyn," she pronounced. "Like a raven."

Right. No shape-shifting apostates around here. Kalian kissed her forehead and put Iris down gently. "Thank you, Iris. Korbyn it is."

Kalian turned to the others. "Ready to go?"

"No, but let's go anyway," Martin said drolly.

Elinowy reflexively reached back to pull the hood of her habit forward to go outside. Her hands of course found nothing. She smirked a little at her own silliness. "Sorry old Habit. I shall have to keep my guard up to avoid looking out of place." She followed the others, trying to find something to do with her hands besides grasp them in her usual way or hold them in proper prayer formation. It felt uncomfortable.

 

RSS Feed