RP:A Royal Visit

Part of the Merfolk Tale Arc

Summary: The Lady of Frostmaw arrives in Rynvale seeking news of the runner Finn and the artifacts he is rumored to hold. An initial meet takes place, but circumstances prevent a sale during this initial encounter.

Characters: Finn, Satoshi, Keturah

Location: Port Rynvale; The Broken Barrel Inn

Keturah:: It was not so unusual to find the desert-born haunting one of Rynvale's seedier establishments. However, the timing of her visit the Barrel might have been counted odd by any who did know of the healer. It was a given that around the full moon, the woman would all but disappear from the radar. Yet the swollen moons cast their glow over the portside city, and Keturah was to be found seated at a table of men. She sat with her legs crossed in her chair, toes scrunching excitedly as she leaned over her cards. The group had taken to playing a private game away from the bustle of the gambling parlor upstairs, and the petite desert-born, for whatever reason had chosen to join them. It must have been far too easy to call her bluffs, given the looks of disappointment that often crossed the druid's face as the game progressed. The coinpurse she had brought, was steadily depleting as well. Laying her cards flat upon her table, the healer stooped over to tug her slippers off and drop them unceremoniously upon the worn floors. Bare toes scrunched all the more as the cards were picked up once more, and with a lowly muttered comment from the male alongside her, the game continued.

Satoshi 's rarely seen outside of Frostmaw, and even less so lurking on the otherside of the map from her city; but tonight, for reasons of her own, she's decided to pay a visit to the infamous Broken Barrel. As the petite foxkin enters the building, an ear flicking back at the protesting door hinge and squeaking floorboards beneath her light footsteps, she seems blissfully oblivious to the looks she's given. It isn't that common ailment of stunning beauty that catches eyes, however, but simply the fact that her flawless white attire just seems... wrong, in such a place, especially when mixed in with a jovial step and merry hum--her three tails keeping tempo to her tune don't keep the gazes away either. But all this is lost on the snow minstrel as she claims a stool at the bar, an ermine appearing from within her hood then and scampering down her arm to sit on the counter as she hails Simon, to place her order in a sing-song tone. "Fruit punch, monsieur~." The barkeep's dark glance at her little companion earns him a second, equally bright, order of, "And he'll have your strongest rum, thanks~." Ignoring Simon's shake of the head while he fills the orders, Frostmaw's Lady swivels in her seat, scanning the mismatched patrons with open curiosity and the faintest hint of... searching.

Keturah was not the first one to look toward the Lady of Frostmaw. She was much too enthralled in her current hand, brows knitting together as she contemplated what to do with the cards she had been dealt. No, it was the sudden lack of attention being paid to her pitiful attempts at playing poker that lifted the druid's curiosity. Moss-green gaze drifted across the room, following the curious glances of her current playmates to land on the white clad foxkin. Eyes narrowed first in confusion, then drifted idly over her slight frame in assessment. She turned 'round fully in her chair then, elbow propped up on the back of the seat as she called out. "You stick out almost as much as I do~." She grinned, her own dark features lighting up with the smile. Cards were thrown upon the table with little care or consideration of the other players, and abandoning her already forfeited gold, the druidess made her way to the bar. "Clothes for cold, yes?" She lilted, sing-song accent trailing brightly across her speech. "Desert clothes are looked at just as oddly."

Satoshi pauses her attempts at a drink, glass hovering inches from her lips as she looks toward the speaker with brows raised. Amber-flecked eyes run the druid's length twice before a lopsided smile--just enough to flash a hint of fangs--breaks across her features, followed by a nod. "Ah, yes. Or, rather to keep the cold from others," the bard almost trills as she places her untouched drink back on the counter, narrowly missing setting it upon the ermine that's muzzle deep in rum. "Y'know, I'll never understand. For the desert being such a horridly hot and dry place, the folks living there... have some of the most fascinating clothes~. Although..." Trailing off, the foxkin looks pointedly at the healer's slipper-less feet, "you're risking some fearsom splinters with an incomplete outfit like that, non?"

Keturah had little knack for common social graces. That included lacking the forethought to not walk up to strangers, or even sitting alongside them if she found them interesting enough. Why else would the druidess have spent her evening surrounded by a table of less than gentlemanly men? It was for her own lack of social graces that the petite woman slipped easily into a barstool , pulling her knees up to her chest and draping her arm around them. Moss-green gaze never did leave the other, save for a drifting to the ermine. "The clothing in the desert is lovely," she agreed with a nod of dark curls. "Mostly.~ The clothes from cold places can be pretty too, though." She might not have agreed with the keeping the cold out bit, however. Coats never quite seemed to work for her. The druid's nose wrinkled briefly before her attention fell to her bare toes. "I do believe I have one or two already, if I am to being honest. Ah~" She paused, running fingertips of her free hand over her toes. "You do stick out though. Anything particular that brings you to Rynvale?"

Satoshi is likewise not in possession of normal social graces, so she's neither startled nor bothered by the stranger helping herself to a nearby seat and carrying on the impromptu conversation. And this particular stranger's voice is an appeasing one, a sing-song tone the arctic bard can relate to and quickly finds herself content to simply listen to. Absentmindedly, Satoshi fiddles with her watery scarf as the woman speaks, letting the glistening liquid pool and flow about her gloved fingers in an idle dance while she nods frequently in silent response. "Mm?" A moment of blinking is required for the foxkin to process the sudden shift to a question, resulting in her blurting the truth rather than concocting a fanciful tale as she might usually. "Looking for someone~. I don't know what he looks like, or his name, just that he frequents here." If ermines could glare, Satoshi's companion is doing so right now, and... is that an exasperated shake of the head? The rum-drinking stoat seems a hint too expressive to be a mere animal, or so he's been accused of before.

Keturah:: "Looking for someone," she repeated in cheerful melodic tones. Her brows knitted together briefly as she lifted her index finger to tap thoughtfully at the side of her mouth. "There are several that frequent the place," Keturah mused idly, as though she had been asked the identity of the man. With a sweeping glance across the Barrel, the druidess shrugged a slender shoulder, and turned her attention onto the ermine. If it was any more or less expressive than any other creature, the brunette had apparently no inclination to ask of it. However, inked fingers did lift in a lazy wave to the little one, a smile strung across her lips. "It's really the faces that don't frequent here that garner the most attention I believe.." Her fingers lowered, twirling a loose strand of her leggings. "Unless one is looking for business?" Another shrug, and the healer's attention snapped back to the foxkin she had settled alongside. "If you'd a name it would be a little easier, no?" She broke off, drumming her finger thoughtfully against her temple. "Oh, but yes. No need to tell me more or less, yes? I forget how secretive people tend to be in the Barrel.~"

Satoshi isn't paying enough attention to notice Aeron quickly return Keturah's wave once the druid looks away, the foxkin being too preoccupied glancing around the tavern. A slight frown forces its way onto her features as she looks about, as if frustrated that this mysterious person isn't popping out of the crowd with a large sign indicating he's who she seeks. One more look, and without his appearance Satoshi merely sighs, tails giving a peevish trio of flicks while her attention returns to her conversation partner in time to catch the last comment. "Ah~. Just a bit of shopping, really. I've heard he has some spectacular jewelry. My attire is... lacking in color, y'know?" Aside from the rainbow-hued feather in her hair, of course. "I'm not familiar with this place or its inhabitants, es all~. Only time I visit the island is to poke in on the dragons living nearby." A furtive nudge from the ermine has Satoshi swiftly turning from the subject of secrets then, lest her innocuous act be figured out through needless rambling. "So~. Do you have a name, or can I call ya Splinterfoot, stranger~?"

Keturah missed the return of the wave completely. The action on the ermine's part might have garnered him a bit more attention than the druidess had previously been paying. "Jewelry.." Another echo, spoken softly under the woman's breath. She had not missed the rumors. Enough time had been spent around the docks to know of that particular merchant and his wares. Her hand rose to ruffle her curls. "I enjoy white as a color scheme.. or colorless. It's becoming.~" She might have been prepared to mention the runner, before the nickname caught the woman off guard and sent her off balance. She paled just slightly, her hands quickly lifting to wave the notion of the nickname away. "Oh, no. Keturah, yes?" Her curls were given a quick bob of a nod. "Keturah. Is my name." Her hands lowered, lacing in front of her knees. For the first time since abandoning her shoes beneath her chair, the healer wondered where on earth the shoes had managed to lose themselves at. Eyes roamed the inn's floor, only to pin the slippers once she had found them. "Ah." She blinked herself back into focus, glancing toward Satoshi sidelong. "You have a name too, yes?"

Finn: It would have been near impossible to hear the clop of hoofed feet against the cobbles of the Harbor road over the general bustle and din of the taproom at peak time, and even more so the soft croon of the auburn haired thief to the stallion once he had dismounted to loop the reins around the postings anchored in the rough street for just such a purpose. Rekkur did not mind a hard run, had carried the runner through every kind of hellish terrain nature could offer, but the horse -still- became as skittish as a lamb with the wolf on a prowl, whenever he sensed that a journey over water was coming. The horse disliked the press of the crowds on the ferry, and the instability of the ground beneath his feet, and of late, his rider had taken to making that journey too often. “Eaassyy Rek.. A drink and a quick pop up to the parlor, and we’ll be on our way. It’ll be over before you know it mate..” he muttered with an assuring stroke along the neck of the animal. Moments later he was shouldering his way inside, whisky gaze skimming the stale depths of the taproom idly as he meandered toward the bar. Mainland drinks were nowhere near the island’s for quality in his opinion. Keturah was spotted easily enough, and a grin warmed his rugged face in greeting as memory of their last encounter popped into memory. A two fingered salute was tossed her way, and a curious look spared for her feline companion.

Satoshi glances toward the auburn-haired newcomer without a second-thought--she'd kick herself if only she knew who he was--and back to watching Keturah she goes. After all, the druid's just asked her a question about herself, and Sven knows how Satoshi loves answering questions about herself. "I've a name for nearly every place on the map~. Most folks call me Satoshi Azakhaer, however, or Ghost. Lady of Frostmaw." Her hand is offered out in the customary gesture then, albeit she's tucked it into the warm confines of her coat first. "...I'd say 'at your service' here, but, well, unless you need someone frozen or a dragon slain, I'm not of much service to ya~." Fangs are bared again in that crooked smile, the kit-vampire amused by her own words at least. The ermine merely shakes his head once more and returns his snout to the emptying glass of rum. "Et that furry drinker is Aeron." Satoshi leans toward Keturah then, lifting a hand to whisper behind it conspiratorially. "Don't listen to anything he says about me, it's all lies."

Keturah 's eyes were quick to snap toward the door upon the entrance of another. To her pleasant surprise, rather than yet another grimy sailor or pirate, Finn entered. She was quick to straighten, legs dropping away from her chest to a lazy dangle. Pity she had nothing to trip him with. Returning the salute, the druidess turned in her seat. "Ah, evening Chirya~," she lilted softly. Her gaze returned to Satoshi, if only to catch her introduction. Her own smile widened, and in the end the druidess nodded. "Satoshi-" Her own hand extended, and the brunette tilted her head. Her eyes were briefly upon the stoat, glimmering with unvoiced curiosity. "Ah. I am of little service too, unless one is bleeding. Then I am most useful, yes." Her eyes were briefly upon the stoat for the whisper, glimmering with unvoiced curiosity. "Oh.. all lies then." She nodded again, jet curls bouncing against her shoulders with the movement. Really, to her, it seemed an acceptable enough truth; that the animal was a horrid, horrid liar. Eyes trailed back to Finn, and the brunette frowned. It was a soft elbow into the other's side, a nudge. "You could talk to him, I bet, yes? About buying things."

Finn’s lengthy stride had brought him close enough to the bar to return the druid’s greeting with a soft “Pet..” of his own, before he slid into place a few seats away fro the pair. He could hear that series of introductions, and curiosity became a quiet thoughtfulness as he nodded to Simon in indication of his desire for the usual. The port was fairly crawling with strangers of late, strangers of affluence and power it seemed, his mind returning to brief encounter with Larket’s queen-a woman, incidentally with whom he might well find himself in opposition if he pursued the course with his lycan lover of aiding her in avoidance of the same. The thought gave him pause, before glass was raised to his lips and a swallow of the amber liquid taken. How much gold would it take, for him to risk arming his own potential foe with a weapon that could well be used against him? A movement in his peripheral vision drew him back to the present, and the Lady of Frostmaw who now sat in this bar, of all places..in all of her out of place glory. Another leader of means and influence. Here. He did not believe in coincidences. As if to confirm that assumption, Keturah’s suggestion to the feline was overheard and the runner turned his head their way to fix the pair with lazy, assessing look. “ Would the lass be needin’ somethin’ Pet?..” he drawled idly, for all the world like a man who didn’t have to be half a world away before sunrise. Whisky gaze would travel then, to meet Satoshi’s own directly for a lingering moment before shifting to the druid again.

Satoshi lets out an unqueen-like squeak at the unexpected nudge to her ribs, and hastily moves to cover the sound with a short clearing of her throat and straightening in her seat followed by a dignified, almost aloof nod toward the newest stranger. It's her eyes that betray her interest in the man, however, for where Satoshi may be able to wear any expression and speak any tone, the actress' eyes have always spoken her emotions freely, and tonight they're amber-speckled gaze is alight with intrigue. This man practically reeks of Trouble, with a capital T, even beneath that casual demeanor. Much more interesting than the sloppy sailors and rowdy drunks lounging about the joint. "I don't know if you can help me, monsieur," the foxkin trills, resting her chin in her hand almost dejectedly and looking away, gaze roaming still for that myterious fellow. "You don't strike me as the type to sell jewelry, and that's what I'm in the market for this evening. Do you know anyone, perhaps~? I'm a collector of odd pieces~." The words, while innocuous sounding to most, are spoken in a tone just loud enough for any nearby to hear, words recognizable to the one who received her letter the night prior. Satoshi's fishing and hoping -someone- in this tavern will bite.

Keturah had to restrain her startled, if good-natured grin at the squeak of a sound that came from the foxkin at her side. Her elbow was quick to withdraw, and demurely, the healer folded her hands in her lap. Bare toes aided her in turning in her seat, and her attention drifted freely between the smuggler at one side and the frost minstrel at the other. Her lilted word was both an answer to Finn and another repeat of what the stranger alongside her made a point of mentioning."Jewelry.~" It was a mere utterance of the word, that her eyes darkened and her tongue ran across her lips as though some bad after taste had been left by speaking the phrase. It was interesting, after all, what the druidess found she could learn if she merely listened and watched as the Knight had once told her. If she listened at the right times, she could even learn of powerful little trinkets for sale at a price of gold that was much more than she was worth. Artifacts such as those- She turned abruptly in her chair, breaking off her thoughts with a raised hand and a sunny order. "A beer,~" With that, the woman slipped from her barstool, returning to the diminished gathering of men and their card game so that she might recollect her slippers. She would be back soon enough, settling herself cheerily back at the bar with slippers in hand as though she had belonged there all along. Finn, was not paid any more glances, though Satoshi and the ermine would be afforded the druid's occasional smile over the mouth of her newly purchased beverage.

Finn’s gold flecked gaze had departed the too familiar form of the healer the instant that the queen had begun to speak, amusement lurking in their depths at the picture she painted on the senses in this run down place. Her voice was like an instrument, wielded.. he canted his head slightly, with deceptive lightness. He did not miss the alertness of the gaze that swept the room, dejected or no. Layers. It bespoke the need for carefulness. “Oh..I wouldn’t know about that lass..” he murmured huskily. Eyes flickered to the druid upon her uttered repetition of the word. “The healer here might be kind enough to assure you…if you ask her, that there is little enough to be found that I’m not willin’ to trade..” he added, flashing the feline a winsome grin. “An’ as it happens, I do happen to have ..jewelry, that might be of interest to a female of your tastes in stock..” he murmured. There was a momentary pause, while amber liquid was lifted to his lips again. “Rare pieces..with high demand..” Those eyes flickered her way again, level and assessing. Something about the magus tugged on the male in him. The thought amused. She’d likely claw his eyes out for thinking it. That’s what cats did..aye? “But I’m sure healthy competition would not be a deterrent for one such as yourself..My Lady..” His voice rippled over the pair with practiced allure. The vendor, dangling his wares and the scarcity thereof. It was so much more interesting..when demand outstripped supply. Unfortunately for the queen, the runner had been on the road, and in meetings all day..and was set to be on the road again tonight, and the letter received lay neatly nestled and unopen..in the satchel that would accompany him on this trip into Vailkrin.

Satoshi eyes Finn demurely, barely refraining from that girlish batting of eyelashes as she plays up her docile-seeming appearance. Satoshi may have lost her feline nature, but she still remembers how to play cat and mouse, when the need arises. And playing the timid mouse while disguised as the cat is her favorite role of all. "Rare pieces I like, as well as a bit of playful competition, but high demand worries me... es it the kind of demand that often ends with the buyer on the end of the out-bidded's blade? It's difficult to protect oneself's as is, without enemies made through the market, tu sais? Are your pieces -that- rare~?" There's a certain coyness then as she sips at her fruit punch and turns her attention to Keturah with a smile, studiously ignoring Finn for the time being. "Tired of the splinters already~? I don't imagine slippers like that would have remained unclaimed long in here, either, non?" While Satoshi's eyes may be off the smuggler, her ermine's never stray, seeming to keenly read ever flicker of emotion and expression.

Keturah whistled lowly, offering only a nod of her head in juncture with the mention of herself. "S'true." She murmured, falling into the unfamiliar inflection of common the druid so oft heard near the harbor. "He would." In but a moment she had quieted again, her attention on draining the alcohol she had bought for herself. The headache was beginning to return, though she was loathe to think the beer was to blame. Fingers wrapped about the neck of the bottle, dark brows knitting together with the frown that curved her lips. The jewelry.. She had heard enough about it to not want to hear anymore. Part of her focus might have been on the dull aches that began washing through her head, but the druidess remained quite intent on keeping up with the conversation. Twas not until she caught that familiar tone in the runner's voice that the brunette looked his way again. Only for an instant did hurt enter her eyes, before her lips turned upward in a smile that was partly amused and partly incredulous. She withheld the snort that might otherwise have escaped her nose in favor of a demure smile toward Satoshi. "I can do with the splinters. Might've been a touch unhappy if someone had taken them though, I do admit." The aforementioned slippers were tucked under the druid's arm, her fingers wrapping around the bottle so that she might take one final draw from it before hopping down from her seat. "The moon is full, and I am finding that the inn has grown a bit stifling for the eve, no?" She sketched a quick bow to the Lady, only to lift her hand a moment later in a cheerful farewell. "I must be off to find another place to collect splinters in my feet, yes?" She was already turning away, though not without a final glance toward the runner. Her eyes softened, and Keturah tipped a salute his way. "Be seeing you, Chirya.~" With that, she was out the door and into the night.

Finn pondered the queen’s question, sincerely, nursing his drink in silence while Keturah and the feline bid their farewells. Eyes were lifted to the door, lingering on the petite form of the druid with a warmth and was that regret? that passed almost as quickly as it arose. She was safer away from him..and all that he was. Were the artifacts worth killing for? That would depend on the motivation and the purpose of the hopeful purchaser. But they were that rare. His eyes followed the feline’s turn away, and when he spoke it was to the apparent emptiness between them, the words hovering weighty with meaning in the air. “Can’t rightly say if a man would kill for em- mortal nature is a thing of mystery. Reckon if a man wants somethin’ bad enough, he’ll do whatever it takes to get it.” he murmured, before lifting his glass to his lips and draining the last of its contents “But I can say they’re rare-the only of their kind that do what they do, the way they do it. Story goes they give a man the power to corrupt the soul of another..with the wearers will alone..” he added somberly. “I figure anyone who knowingly buys em won’t be the sort from doin what it takes to hold onto em..If you catch my meanin..” The male rose then, an open look of regret passing across his face now. “If you’d like to come by my shop sometime soon, I’d be happy to show you the lot..but I’ve got somewhere I need to be by sun up.and a ferry to make before the port closes for the night, if you’ll pardon my need to be gone.” It wasn’t wise to forestall a sale, in case it was lost, but the demands that awaited on the mainland were urgent, and pressing. A matter, literally of life and death. He had to go.

Satoshi keeps an ear turned toward Finn even as she watches the healer's departure, following the girl's form out with a quietly hummed 'Farewell~' before returning her gaze to the runner. "Hrm. The rumors, for once, don't seem so far off. I'll keep it in mind, along with the invitation to visit your shop, then. And," offering a hand out for Aeron to scurry up, the foxkin stands and grants Finn a quick nod, "I'll leave you to your business for the evening. I've my own to tend to as well. I don't doubt we'll cross paths again, if not over bits of jewelry, than some other trinket. Collectors and merchants don't tend to stray far from each other, non?" With the flash of fangs set in a smirk, the Frost Singer turns on a heel and heads for the door--fluidly moving around the newest arrival with only the swish of her tails showing she's noticed his presence at all.

Satoshi shouted, "Aeron! I forgot to get his name! You didn't remind meee!"

Finn would allow the feline her exit, a smile twitching his lips for the shout heard from beyond the walls of the establishment thereafter. She might not know who he was, he he’d heard her name..and titles. Should the need arise, he’d find her. He was out of time. A brusque nod offered to the new arrival, the runner would head directly for the door and the stallion tied up beyond. The night stretched ahead of him, and come sunrise, hopefully, the answers to a mystery.