RP:Blue's Clues

Part of the Do You Believe In Magic? Arc

Summary: Leoxander finds the Queen and informs her that he's looking for work. Hildegarde sets him with the task of gathering clues about the missing mages and the blue dragon that's taken them.

Frostmaw Tavern

Hildegarde’s anger had quelled since Pilar and Lionel managed to talk some sense into her, convincing her not to march right down to Larket and make any unreasonable demands. The pressure of ruling the City of War was heavy, requiring near Herculean strength to bear it. Yet even Hercules rested between his labours, which is precisely what Hildegarde has elected to do at this moment in time by being here in the tavern. She sits far away from the hearth so as not to be bothered by its warmth, but not so far so as to be in some shady corner of the tavern or out of anyone’s view. It was difficult to be out of view anyway, given her most royal position. While Hildegarde bore the title of Queen, she certainly didn’t bear the regal image or attitude: sitting here in the tavern with her short-sword across her lap, whetstone lovingly caressing the edge of the blade to keep it sharp and ready. She simply looked like a woman who had known war, a simple band of blue iron around her head to indicate her status as Queen.

Leoxander was never a 'ruler', per say, but in walked a pirate who could relate to the affairs and complications of war. Once upon the time he may have even looked the part. Now, he sported an oversized (and likely stolen) fur coat over his black attire that enhanced the wolfish look to him, the way it spiked like his hair, damp from melted snow. He wasn't clean shaven but he no longer resembled the homeless man from the park near a month prior. One of two twin daggers were holstered at his hip among two different belts, the more simple one holding up loose leather pants that didn't quite fit his narrow waist, yet. The other having been lost coincidentally at the gates of Frostmaw in an attack. Not all that quiet for his arrival, he stomped some of the snow from well gripped boots half hidden by the gathered cuffs of leather and raked work worn fingers through unruly hair only to have dark blonde strands fall over his shadow rimmed eyes again. His face seemed a little red, as though he had suffered a sunburn, darkening the forever freckles that peppered over the bridge of his large, sensitive nose. His gaze landed almost at once upon Frostmaw's queen the moment the door closed behind him, and he was actually a little surprised to finally see her present, and not in the company of others making demands or tending to her guard. Resisting the urge for a wolf like shake, for once, he made his way directly for her table instead of his usual path right for the bar. With his approach came a subtle heat that the cold weather could not drown away.

Hildegarde didn’t bother to glance up as heavy boots began to beat against the floor, this was just a common sound in Frostmaw of visitors ridding themselves of the clutching snow. Yet her attention wandered from her whetstone and blade to the now approaching footsteps and slight shift in temperature near her table; a shift that perhaps many people wouldn’t notice but a dragon who much preferred the cold certainly would do. Something about the man was familiar, that was certain. But Hildegarde never liked to assume she outright knew people, especially when she couldn’t recall having ever met a person before. The Silver looked at Leoxander for a long moment, sole eye swiftly looking him up and down as if to assess him as politely as possible before she set the whetstone down gently upon the table. “Hail, stranger,” she said politely, her voice warm like the hearth. “Can I be of assistance, sir?” she asked of him, obviously wanting to ascertain why he chose to stand before her table in silence.

Leoxander already knew what she was. His accidental visit to an ancient black dragon had revealed more information than he had originally been searching for, but even if he hadn't been told, her scent would likely speak in volumes to his subtly twitching nose. Leo was a self proclaimed racist of dragons, or... had been. Now it was difficult to afford that kind of hate. Likewise, she might catch the hint of 'wet wolf' smell or that body heat that suggested his blood burned warmer than a human's, especially for one fresh out of the snow banks. "I'm lookin' for work. Heard you're lookin' to hire." More so, he had read it, but the statement got the point across. "And now who I know who you are, if you are... who I think you are, I can tell you I was also at that little scuff at yer gates." It wasn't a 'little scuffle', at all. Lionel had lost a lot of soldiers, Leoxander had witnessed few nearly fatal wounds. Not to mention he had lost a knife. Although he had manners appropriate for a pirate, he didn't help himself to a seat at her table or booth unless he was gestured or invited to, and folded his arms over his chest in the wait while standing there.

Hildegarde certainly did know that Leoxander was a wolf in man’s clothing, but her awareness of the fact wasn’t acted upon just yet. “Ah! Yes, I am, please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her own, though she wouldn’t mind if Leoxander elected to sit elsewhere at the table. “You must think I am Hildegarde. That’s correct,” she confirmed, offering him a friendly smile to match her affirmation of identity, “but I don’t quite know you are, other than a prospective worker! Might you enlighten me, sir?” Ever the polite one. Yet that friendly demeanour and politeness faded momentarily as he mentioned the ‘scuffle’ at the gates. “Ah. I thank you, then, for your aid in defending my lands. Sir Lionel has told me about the most peculiar event at the gates,” she told him, though she did not deign to inform him of any further action she might have elected to take. That was for her men to know, not this current stranger. “But let us focus on the matter at hand: your search for work. Do you have any specific skills that might be of interest..?”

Leoxander had no friendly smile of his own. His expression seemed in a permanent state of suspicion, which might have been thrown off by the allergic red tint on his forehead, nose and cheeks. Nor was he in the habit of throwing out his name from the start. He had given it all but once to a stranger since his return, and looked hesitant to double that number. A glance was given toward Drargon, who, unlike Hildegarde, knew the lycan all too well and without a spit of fondness for him. He was watching the pair very carefully as he went about his duties behind the bar. Blue eyes behind a veil of unkempt blonde returned to the silver queen. "Leo." He said flatly, disregarding her gratitude for the battle. It hadn't exactly been his choice when he had walked up on the situation to be attacked. "I'm gonna go ahead and say I'm pretty confident whatever you need done, I can get done. Why don't you start by givin' me an idea what that is?" He didn't seem to understand any proper way to speak to royalty. Arms had unfolded, a hand with tattooed knuckles resting on the table with a bit of an anxious drumming of fingers, as it wasn't often he sat in a pub or tavern without a drink in reach.

Hildegarde was not always a Queen and thus she is never particularly bothered when people speak to her as if she were an ordinary civilian. It’s what she felt like she was most of the time, anyway! But this ‘Leo’ wanted to get to business quickly, something she had no protests regarding. “You know what I am. I know what you are,” she said with an audible yet succinct sniff to clarify exactly how she knew, “and thus I have a specific task for you.” She paused for a moment, making just a tiny gesture towards the bar before continuing. “I had intended to put you to work like anyone else, manual labour or guard work. But you have skills that I think I can find a better use for. I do not know what you have heard – if anything at all – about mages going missing?” she asked, waiting for his answer as a buxom giantess approached their table with one solitary tankard of mead that sat squarely in the middle of the table. What its purpose is for is known only to the Queen. It is evidently not meant for Leoxander, but nor does she reach out to drink it. Regardless of what Leoxander knew or did not know, Hildegarde would soon skate over the topic: “A few of my citizens and friends have gone missing. Who has taken them no one can say for sure, but I suspect it to be a dragon. The scent of a dragon has been overwhelming in Xalious and I had a run in with a dragon of the same scent here in Frostmaw. She unsettled a friend of mine, who has since gone missing.” Why she is telling him this is likely about to become clear! “I have business to attend to in Larket and matters to attend to here at home. I cannot split myself all ways to tend to everything and I have learned that sometimes it is best to let another shoulder a task or part of a task. I would ask you to employ your enhanced senses and find my people for me. I will pay you handsomely for this, better than a mere manual labour job could provide you with.”

Leoxander leaned back in the seat as he listened to her, and when the question came, he responded matter of fact. "I've heard there's a helluva reward." Leave it to him to care more about the gold in it than the lives that mattered. But showing compassion was a weakness that he did not front to just anyone. A sidelong glance was given to the female giant's approach, but he wasn't quite foolish enough to order a drink from her that would be poured by Drargon. Beside that, Hildegarde's words had his interest, for now. If he had wolf ears, they would have drooped a bit when she continued on. Dealings with dragons. He should have known that Lady Luck had no love in her heart for him, anymore. "I'll need a list. Who was taken, where, if you know it. Maybe any other dragons you know of in the area and out." He tried not to grit his teeth on that specific word. "I've seen notes posted all over about this, so it's gone on for a while, I'd guess. You want me to find them, that's one thing. You want me to bring them home, I'll expect the compensation for a body, live or dead." Gruesome, he knew, particularly since it seemed to concern her friends. But Leo didn't sugar coat when it came to kidnapping. He had been the culprit hunting ransom a time or two in the past. "Also, I don't know how true it is, but word in Xalious and Kelay said one might be back. If you figure out the truth in that, get me a name, it'll make this happen a lot quicker. Savy?"

Hildegarde would gladly cooperate with Leoxander’s terms, as her accepting nod implied. “I will do my best to provide you with what information I can, but I fear it will not be much. I do not expect you to rescue them, only to find them and assess what their situation is. I fully intend to do all that is within my power to release them from their captor,” meaning she’d do everything she could to kill the filth that took her people. Skipping over his discomfort regarding dragons, the Silver seemed to be largely in agreement with Leoxander’s terms. “I hope your hunt is a successful one,” gods knew it would be a difficult one. ‘And another thing’ garners a slight movement of Hilde’s eyebrow, evidently, she’s curious. “Yes?”

Leoxander would be content enough, either way. He didn't particularly want to try to defeat anything he came across, nor did he have the armor or resources to do so. But he wasn't going to dive head first into shallow waters, either. "I need a weapon. I've got a smithy in Gualon named Leone workin' on somethin', but I don't have the funds, yet. If I'm goin' out into unknown territory an' approachin' dragons, I wanna have my bow. Just in case. You're payin' for it, and if I don't come through I'll make sure you get the gold back." But he didn't seem to have much doubt about coming through. Even if no one had figured out much, yet. "I also want an idea of the pay. I don't expect to be overlooked if I find you a good piece of information."

Hildegarde knew Leone and smiled slightly when he mentioned her name. It had been a long time since she had spoken to the priestess. Perhaps this would give them reason to talk once more. “I will pay for your bow, though I should like to think I can call on it should I need it once more,” she said idly, not making it a demand but more like a passing comment. As for an idea of pay, the Silver shrugged her shoulder. Dragons were rarely good at divining what was good coin for a mortal such as Leoxander. What was a paltry sum to a dragon was more like a dragon’s hoard to any human man. “Considering the cost of your bow and the fact that the Lady Leone does not come cheap,” she said thoughtfully, as she reached for what appeared to be a scrap of parchment and a worn pencil, “I will offer you the sum of…” she writes her paycheck upon the parchment, passing it across the table to Leoxander. Evidently, the price was not worth announcing to the entire tavern.

Leoxander figured that a decent deal, and so he nodded, to the idea of working for Hildegarde in her need. He didn't much appreciate the weather of Frostmaw, but it was obvious the land was suffering what Rynvale had once dealt with. He was no stranger to war. "I'm lookin' to make trade, but I'll make you priority within reason." That fact was determined when he took a look at the paper, crumbled it in his palm, and offered a simple nod. It was paltry, compared to what he was paid in the past, but it was a place to start. "Pending the outcome. I ain't here to screw you over, Queen. I'm just here to get back to where I was." A place where he had a place to stay, and the funds to find his ship. "You haven't heard anything about any galleons washing up on shore, have you?" He'd take advantage of the moment, since she didn't seem to be in Frostmaw as often as most Queens would be, but he kind of respected that about her. She would know more, traveling.

Hildegarde nodded in appreciation at his words. “You do well and we keep a happy working relationship, I am happy to increase that,” she told him. “Loyalty is much rewarded in Frostmaw,” though not always in coin, that much was true. “I’ll get the information to you as and when I can,” meaning she’d head back to her chambers soon and try to condense her meticulous notes on all that happened and all that she had managed to notice thus far. “Ah, yes, a ship washed ashore Cenril some time ago,” she told him in reply to his question. “Though I believe it to be called The Seraph or some such. Quite an old wreckage, by all appearances, but I suppose the sea can do that to a ship.”

Leoxander frowned at her bit of information. Perhaps it was his Eternity, but not likely. His black sails might have been tattered, the writing on the back lost. Still, it was worth looking into when he had time, and he nodded his gratitude for that snip of information. He wasn't quite done, yet. "How about a bottle for the road? This place ain't too friendly when you've got no where to stay." He wasn't likely to stay there, but the bottom of the mountain wasn't much warmer, and he'd be returning in due time for her missive. Leo was still too greedy to spend another pocketful on a warm room and a bed. He just couldn't afford it, yet.

Hildegarde smiled at the mention of a warm drink, “Ah, well…” she began, finally reaching for the tankard of mead, “it is traditional that we share mead. It binds us to our word,” she tells him, “and it warms your bones. So it’s a win-win, really!” she said as she lifted the tankard and gave it a slight motion towards him before taking a hearty slug from the tankard before passing it towards him, froth clinging to her upper lip. “I can cover your stay in the tavern, if you so wish. Or there is the Royal Academy of Aramoth to the west, but you will find it noisy and smelly. Men and women train there actively,” meaning there were clashing weapons and the rusty scent of blood.

Leoxander wasn't typically one to accept charity. But with an employer, he didn't seem to mind so much, and nodded to her terms. "I'll take a night, here. That way you can write up the information and leave it in my room." She might be a busy individual, but he was business, and wanted it as soon as possible to get started. Not to mention he could use another bath, a night's sleep, so on. "With her majesty's consent...." A subtle remark that indicated she'd be paying for the room as well. He lifted the mug, lifted it to her in a salute, and took a drink of the mead that wasn't his favorite flavor, but there was a subtle warmth that crept down to his stomach with a long drink before he set it down. "You might have to talk Drargon into it." A small warning to the fact that the giant didn't much care for him, but perhaps with the Queen's favor, he'd get away with it. "Soon as I wake, I'll be on the task."

Hildegarde grinned at the remark about Drargon, “I have to talk Drargon into much,” she said, though there was love in her voice for the giant. Obviously, queen and bartender had some kind of strong bond between one another. “Rest up, Sir Leo. I shall have your information for you by the morning,” she avowed. “I might even have another job for you down the line,” he seemed like he’d be the handy sort to have.

Leoxander offered another nod to her words. He felt a sense of relief, and the glare was not so prominent in his eyes, now. "So be it, yer Majesty." Proper title, not the usual sarcasm given that he might have in the past. She didn't seem like the royalty he had worked with in the past. But Leo felt himself on a road to recovery of what he once was, or perhaps better. He stood from the chair opposite of her and without much ado or a proper bow, made his way over to Drargon to get his room key.