RP:An Unusual Amount Of Tension

This is a Devout's Guild RP.

Summary: Mathollak and Sargaso seek out Khitti, separately, and the two tell her of the goings-on in Gualon. Mathollak also asks to join the guild and Khitti decides to write a fanfic about the two, seeing as how the sexual tension between them is stifling.

Sanctum Of The Divine, Kelay

Khitti || Unfortunately for Khitti, she had not been able to make it to the Warrior’s Guild’s recruitment day event. Hopefully, the baked goods she’d sent along had sufficed in her absence. Meanwhile, Khitti had had other things to attend to. But right now? She wasn’t attending to frak-all besides what was rattling around in her head. Inside the Sanctum, in the building’s main room, incense and a single candle had been lit and placed upon the altars of Vakmathras, Delisha, and Cyris (black for the first two and white for the latter). A bit of blood had been spilt into the offering bowls for the gods of death and pleasure--her own blood, as was evident by the bandage on her right forearm--though nothing had been left for Cyris. There was no offering bowl; that sort of thing wasn’t something he cared for. What was she even doing this for? Guidance? A clear cut answer for once from the three that “chosen” her? Khitti wasn’t even sure. She never could “hear” them, as others could. Perhaps she was just too damned skeptical still of most things pertaining to Lithrydel’s pantheon. If there were signs, she never saw them or realized them too late. So for right now? Khitti’s seated in one of the pews, thinking, and staring between the three likenesses of the gods she worked with. As usual with other times she’d tried this sort of thing, even in each of their temples, it was bringing on nothing but frustration and not a single ounce of clarity.

Sargaso enters the Sanctum with the reverence it deserves. The sailor rarely observes decorum, but his mother raised him right when it came to the divine. There’s no room for disrespect in a cathedral filled with holiness. He even dressed up a little, one of his nicer gray tunics, newer black leather pants, and unscuffed leather loafers. Respect. He does not arrive with Mathollak, who, for the record, is not his friend. He came to deliver a message to Khitti, and loiters a respectful distance behind her while she meditates. He’ll wait. He takes a seat and hangs his own head in prayer so he isn’t staring like a creep. Sanctums are holy but also maybe a little boring when you’re not exactly in a soul-searching mood.

Mathollak doesn't arrive with Sargaso who is, for the record, a wimp. They just had a similar schedule, and similar cause, despite the fact that they couldn't be more dissimilar people. He enters somewhat loudly, pushing the doors open so they smack against the walls they're hinged on. He sees an altar to Delisha with an offering bowl and finds his way over to it. "Oh! I didn't expect to see you here! But don't worry I always have something for ya." He just dumps a large quantity of gold into the offering bowl. Loudly, like he would any of Delisha's worshipping places, and probably disturbs people. Maybe calls up their attention. That's good. "Good evening, friends," he notices Sargaso, "and Sargaso. I'm looking for Captain Khitti. We have business."

Khitti had heard Sargaso’s entrance, but she assumed he was just some other person. People came and went as they pleased here, after all. She hadn’t had her eyes closed either and just stared at Mathollak as he dropped all the gold into the bowl. “Captain? I’m no captain,” Khitti said with a smirk. “Who the hell said I was a captain?” The redhead stood up from her seat and turned to eye Sargaso briefly. He’d get one of those nods that said ‘sup?’. You know, the dudebro thing. “What business is it then?” Khitti was a very ‘let’s get straight to the point’ sort of individual and she was making that known right now. “And I’m assuming you’ve got business with me too, Sargaso.” She looked between the two for a moment, then tended to the swords she’d left on the pew next to her. “Dinner is in three hours. My dear sister Meri has been babysitting my kid, as well as her own, along with three dogs. If Meri is not relieved of this duty soon, she’s going to go on a rampage. So… Speak.” Both the gladius Embershard and the harpe Slice of Life was fixed to her back carefully, the leather straps of their sheaths slipped over her head and criss-crossed across her chest, her attention soon divided between the two again when she finished.

Sargaso reverse-nods back at Khitti, dudebro style. He rises when addressed and steps forward just ahead of Mathollak the nuisance. “Hey Khitti. Just here to update you on what happened in Gualon.” He suddenly speaks really fast to get in everything he wants to say before Mathollak can cut him off. “An orc tribe from Frostmaw, zealots of Aramoth, attacked the orc tribes in Gualon after Mattie here,” he nods sideways at Mathollak then raises his voice before Mathollak can interject, “Taunted their leader, Vargan, by sending to Vargan his wife’s head in a box.” Sargaso lifts a hand and forcefully signals ‘STOP’ at Mathollak who is likely itching to speak. “His wife was Ushat, the orc I tried to arrest some months ago, but Mattie killed on impulse. Vargan attacked Gualon, Gualon defended itself. I was there when the attack happened, after Mattie requested my help.” He re-emphasizes the stop-sign in Mathollak’s face and raises his voice to drown out whatever the Hero of Stupidity whats to say next. “Now Frostmaw and Gualon are at the brink of war. Frostmaw’s government says the Aramoth orcs are terrorists. Gualon’s orcs say Frostmaw is full of s***, and that Frostmaw’s government is in on it. I suggested the Devout Guild step in as a neutral third party and interrogate the Frostmaw orc prisoners to determine whether or not they’re working for the Frostmaw government.”

Mathollak was dressed for comfort, basically. He wore a gleaming red breastplate with a bleeding heart dripping into a goblet. But no plate today. That wasn't comfy. "Oh are you Khitti? Good. And no one told me you were a captain... but I thought it sounded smart." It does. Captain Khitti. Cool Captain Khitti. At this point, Sargaso takes his cue to debrief, and Mathollak lets him. Passively. For about one second. Then his attempts to interject are anticipated. "Actu-...No that's..." Fine. Let him have his way. Mathollak will clean up his mess as always. "That's mostly true. But uh, don't get lost in the details on Sargaso's report. The only important thing, is, these crazy zealots from Frostmaw. AMBUSHED the orc encampment. KIDNAPPED Gualon's champion and his wife, and we need to find them. And they almost killed my father. An old man! An Old ass man and they dam near murdered him. Anyway," he says extending his hand. "Mathollak, the Axe of Love, and I'm here to join your team. But! I've got a condition," he says confidently, "The prisoners? I'm part of the team that interrogates them."

Khitti ’s olive-green eyes got wide for a second as Sargaso started telling Khitti the news and quickly shifted into a skeptical squint. She looked at Mathollak. Then eyed Sargaso again. She was definitely listening, very much so, but something felt… strange. Hm. What was it? Oh. Khitti soon realized what the problem was: the sexual tension between Sargaso and Mathollak was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Her mind drifted away, as Mathollak added on his own information. This would make a good fanfic. It’d been so long since she wrote one. There was the barest hint of a sly grin before it’s wiped away and her super serious business face was resumed. She’s absolutely taking mental notes though. Definitely. “I just saw Queen Hildegarde the other day. There’s no war. She would’ve absolutely told Lionel and I. And we need to keep things from getting further to that point because I’ve no interest in fighting a whole horde of frost giants now that I’m not a vampire.” It’s cold. They’re a lot bigger than she is. Hell, she almost died several times during that war with Balgruuf. She might’ve been full on Fight Club-fighting with some frost giants back then, when Hildegarde’s army had been stationed in Xalious, but that wasn’t something she could do now. She finally took Mathollak’s hand and shook it, but didn’t release his hand right away. No, sorry, Mr. Axe of Love. This wasn’t some sort of fancy hand-holding. You can do that in your free time with Sargaso. “Well, Mathollak, welcome aboard.” Shadows gathered to Khitti’s index finger as she quickly drew a crude outline of the guild’s sigil on the back of his hand. The triquetra glowed a dark purple before fading entirely, Mathollak’s hand finally released. “Bring them here. Do what needs to be done. If you need me to help, then let me know. I’m well acquainted with the ways of interrogation,” she said with a far-too-innocent smile. “Sorry to hear about your dad, but you know, we’re all gonna die anyway.” There’s an indifferent shrug. “But, I’m glad it sounds like whenever that happens, it’ll be on his terms.”

Sargaso holds his breath as Mathollak offers his hand and allegiance to Khitti. He hopes Khitti rejects that pest. He would not vouch for Mathollak joining the Devouts Guild in a million years, but no one asked him and he respects hierarchy. He says nothing when Mathollak is inducted. Great. Now the Axe of Headaches will have more excuses to run into Sarge. Mattie has followed Sarge into *two* guilds now. Khitti is right, Mathollak is really obsessed with Sarge, but the sexual attraction is one way and unrequited. The guild leader returns to the subject of war and Sarge adds, “Gualon insisted the interrogation happen there. I’ll head back there right away to interrogate the prisoners.” His tone suggests he hopes to get away with not honoring Mathollak’s condition upon joining the guild.

Mathollak pulled his hand back after she was done and looked at it. "Well wouldja look at that. I've been branded." He grins proudly and blows a kiss to Delisha, and bows slightly, with a hand on her symbol. "I haven't met this Hildegarde person, but it sounds like she's saying exactly what the rest of 'em are saying. And sure there is no war. Yet. But that all depends on what the prisoner tells us, and how cooperative Frostmaw is, doesn't it? Blood for blood is all Gualon will accept. I know." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sargaso become crestfallen. The truth is there is a lot of sexual tension between them, but it comes from Sargaso, who doesn't know how to cope with his feelings so they come out in spurts of meanness. Like a kindergartener! Mathollak is used to this and ignores it. Or maybe inflames it. Her comment about his dad is a little perplexing. Of course she's right, but right or wrong is hardly ever what's important in Mathollak's mind. "Yeah, maybe he'll die some day. But whoever kills him has to die first." He pauses for a second. "Or immediately after." He nods confidently, assuring them both that this is what would happen. "Yeah why don't you wait up there, Water-boy. We're brothers-in-arms now. So why don't we talk about a plan of action first?" Mathollak had his eyes set on a celebration. He's worked enough for a few days. Time to party.

Khitti nodded at the both of them, “Right. Do it there in Gualon then. As for Frostmaw… do your best to keep it as quiet as possible. I don’t care if the guild has to throw a feast in honor of Rothik if it appeases them.The queen of Frostmaw has enough on her plate at the moment and has only just found out about the hell going on in the Mage’s Guild--I don’t need her getting pissed at the Devout’s Guild too. I’ll alert Lionel at the very least. He’s a bit more capable at handling angry dragons than I am.” Khitti shuddered. Like, there’s no hiding it. Dragons and Khitti did not mix. Hildegarde was the exception, but even -she- had threatened the former templar with execution several years ago and Khitti had not forgotten. “Yes. Go make plans. Be sure to get drunk and makeout with many people and be happy for a couple days because this thing you’ve gotten yourselves into isn’t going to be easy. There may not be time for respite until this is over with.” Sorry, boys. You’re in it for the long haul. Gotta get all of that out of your system now. No distractions and all that.

Sargaso suppresses a genuinely amused grin when Mathollak says whoever kills his father has to die first. He crosses his arms and grabs his jaw to hide the expression in an effort to look serious and focused on Khitti’s instruction. But then Khitti’s just as amusing by giving him license to be a debauched bachelor for a couple days, and he drops the serious act and lets himself grin wide, chuckling a little. “I’ll be sure to follow your orders to a ‘t’. Alright, I’m off then. I’ll let you know what I find out.” He pauses to see if Khitti has anything to add, and if not, he heads out.

Mathollak nods amicably. Khitti's demands were all extremely fair. Mathollak truly didn't want war either, he didn't have the patience for it. But he -did- want to declare war, and would love to find it was unavoidable. "Very well, those are orders I can happily follow," he says with a toothy grin. Some key teeth aren't as straight as they could be, and when he smiles it makes them look pointy, almost wolfish. The prisoners were secure, he joined some new teams, he got what he wanted. Time to punch out. Take a few days off. He turns to leave. "We'll be in touch Captain," he says resigning to his mistake. "Sarge? If ou're gonna tag along you'd better come correct. Okay? That's all I'll say. Come. Correct. Got it?" Not that he had any authority over Sargaso, but maybe he could. Gualon was his home and he aimed to avenge it the best way he could.