RP:Hureig Fails To Be Discreet

From HollowWiki

Part of the Rise of Larket Arc

Summary: Josleen asks Hureig to discreetly and quietly find a witch so that they may hold a seance and talk to the restless spirit of Andurla. During the conversation, she reveals Kelovath is in jail and the giant goes berserk and runs through the streets of Laket to the jail to free his little human buddy.

Kyla's Eatery

The note he had gotten was dire. It was dreadful. It was urgent! Thane Josleen, mate to his little human friend, beloved by Hildegarde, and bedeviled by evil spirits he had seen and whatever troubles come from being the mate of Kelovath needed him! Well, that had him dropping all of his duties and running to Larket. The letter had asked for discretion and perhaps a place that was quiet and good for a private talk---and perhaps as a foreshadow of what was to come, Hureig had decided why not Kyla's! The letter was written and sent, and so the Frost Giant sat at Kyla's eatery. He had earned the nickname Frosting Giant, so great was his gluttony for the almighty sugar. His table was laden with cupcakes, sliced cake, all manner of cake! A portion, a small portion even for a human, was cordoned off for Josleen, and the confectioneries had to watch in horror while their brothers and sisters were consumed.


Josleen would not have chosen Kyla’s. Were letter writing as swift as, say, in an alternate universe and timeline, instant messaging over the internet (wwhhaaattt?! sorcery!), then Josleen would have had enough time to change the rendezvous point. Alas, couriers are slow and the woman who in recent days had become a pariah to a small contingent of angry Larketians (trouble #1 of being Kelovath’s squeeze) braved a trip through the public spaces that quickly have become her personal quagmire. While many of Kyla’s patrons did not despise Josleen for her willingness to back a murderer (guilty until proven innocent), those that did lowered their voices and whispered in harsh tones as she entered the establishment. Her plan, to accost Hureig and drag him to an actually private location, was thwarted by a mountain of sugar. Irritated but polite and poised out of obligation to save face, she smiled toothlessly at him and sat with her back straight and tense. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Hureig. The matter at hand is quite sensitive and I was hoping to meet with you at---” She was about to suggest her home, but then remembered the superstitious giant would not dare enter a haunted house. “--a more discreet location.” She eyed a tiny slice of cakelog. “This for me? You shouldn’t have.” She broke the portion in two with a fork and that’s all the breaking she could do given the tiny morsel. “I know a place not far that we could go to once you’re done here.” While the giant ate, she ordered a glass of too-sweet tea that took far too long to arrive because the waitress was one of the angry contingent. Once the tea arrived, a mysteriously viscous blob floating in the tea disuaded Josleen from drinking the angry woman’s presumed spit. She sighed and gestured at the obvious spit so that Hureig may silently commiserate with her.


The Frosting Giant was well into his meal by the time Josleen showed up. The ill feelings towards her did not go unnoticed, and each sneer, dirty looking, and whisper behind hands made the giant's icing covered face go red. Did these people, these HUMANS!, not know who this petite woman was?! She was Thane Josleen! Oh, the disregard for her dignity had the giant seething so hot and wild that no amount of cake, though he kept shoveling them in his mouth with wild abandon, would quench. His appetite was all but gone when he stood and took his seat after Josleen sat, and he nodded to her offer of a new venue. "Yes. Yes." He said, his words muffled through a mouth filled with muffins. "Let us leave here before I do something I will regret." By the way he looked lustfully at the remaining sweets on the table, that regret was probably tearing the place down with his bare hands. He was up in a flash, and after wiping his hands on his furs and brushing his forearm clean, he was at Josleen's seat with said forearm extended. "Perhaps your home would be better, but only if you are using my mammoth p****, of course..."


Josleen, not one to refuse chivalry, lifted her arm well above her shoulder in order to reach Hureig’s extended arm so that he may escort her out of that hateful place. It may not be the most comfortable position, but few dared whisper vicious rumors within the hearing range of a giant. Of course, whatever dignity and intimidation her companion may have impressed was undermined by his insinuation that she uses a mammoth member, and that use was left open-ended by an affable but socially-stunted giant. Josleen flushed hot red and replied very loudly, her pace slowing so that all within the bakery may hear her long-winded, totally unnatural explanation. “Why yes, a lovely symbol and beloved artifact of your long and esteemed culture!” Having encyclopedia’d her way to a more normal complexion, she left the bakery still hitched up on Hureig’s arm. Outside she whispered, “Hureig, perhaps don’t mention the mammoth wand in public. Larketians don’t understand its significance or use, and may misinterpret your words, do you understand?” Once at her home, Hureig would find that indeed, a petrified mammoth genital hung prominently in the living room to ward off ghosts and evil spirits. However, it no longer hung over the mantle. To save face should she ever entertain a guest again, has wrapped flowering vines around the shaft and the flowering rod now doubled as a curtain hanger above a near floor-to-ceiling window. Hureig having revealed himself none-too-bright a fellow, Josleen leaned conspiratorially in to whisper, “I thought if I disguised it then the ghosts would not be alerted prematurely to its explosive warding power.” She tapped the inside of her nose and winked as though letting Hureig in on a cunning plan. She gestured for Hureig to have a seat then crossed to the credenza to offer wine or water. As she prepared the drinks she explained. “I’ve asked you here for two reasons. The first is that while the mammoth wand has been most helpful it bringing me solace during Kelovath’s incarceration, I believe we may need to change course when it comes to the ghost. I believe the spirit belongs to the murdered woman and we should hold a seance to communicate with her and have her accuse the rightful murderer. I was hoping you could help me find a witch with this ability and secure a discreet meeting here in my home.”


Hureig was good at many things, but his knowledge of public appearances was a bit lacking! He listened to Josleen and her explanations for why the giant, petrified pecker should not be mentioned in public. It made sense to the Giant; having spent a lot of time in Larket, he had noticed they had no need for such a wonderful product, what with the massive sticks that were shoved up all of their backsides. He nodded more in apologies than protest, and the social proscription was etched into his mind. Though a little hesitant to walk into the haunted house, he did make his way into it and the epicenter of all things ghastly. There were many things that could hold a giant, but whatever couch she had decided upon most certainly would not. He stood, took the water, and listened. He nodded where he needed to nod, he hummed where he needed to hum, and he paid no mind to all of the things she sheathed the token in. "Yes, yes. This makes sense. I will find you a witch, and with the power of my mammoth's wand, we will rid this house of ghosts!" His cup of water was hoisted into the air, and it no doubt rained down water with how hard it was thrown up. They had a plan. He had a task. All was right in the Giant's mind...until one piece of Josleen's task, one little word, was finally seized upon. "Incarcerated...Incarcerated?! JAILED?!" Memories still fresh in his mind, wounds that still caused his wrists and ankles to ache. The war. His imprisonment. Flashbacks. Posttraumatic stress. "Little human! I AM COMING!" Would Josleen attempt to stand in the way of a hulking brute going through Frostmaw War flashbacks?!


Josleen politely ignored the spilled water and silently thanked whatever God overseas spilled drinks for guiding Hureig not too choose wine. When Hureig goes full giant barbarian, Josleen, who has served in three wars alongside giants, knew it was best to just duck out of the way and let the rage run its course. Also, the fact Hureig called Kelovath ‘little human’ was news to her and something which in the future would need to be corrected. After all, the little human aspired to be king. Can’t have a king called little man in public! This conversation with herself occurred in a split second, as auto-dialogues often go. Hureig had barely made it out the door when her booming bardic voice gave chase, “Hureig! You will make it worse for him. We have a plan to free him! You are a part of the plan! Use your reason!” Hopefully that worked, and if it didn’t, no matter. Josleen had wine and lengthy experience dealing with curveballs and trouble heaped on trouble. She had come to trust her ability to wiggle her way out of most trouble--most.


Hureig was too deep into his memories of prison for Josleen's booming bardic voice to pierce into his mind. What were they doing to his friend?! He was in jail with real criminals! Did he have weapons?! THEY WOULDN'T GIVE HIM WEAPONS! How could his friend defend himself? Were they feeding him? WAS HE STARVING?! Assassins were everywhere. Knives, daggers, crude shanks. They were all around him. ALL AROUND HIM! Hureig was out the door, though his battle cry could be heard booming through the land, "LITTLE HUMAN! I COME FOR YOU!"


Josleen did not give chase. She knew that if she were seen pleading with Hureig to return to her home, that spectacle would only add fuel to the dumpster fire that is public opinion. Instead she took a deep breath and shut her eyes to try and gather her willpower in the face of yet another obstacle. This cool under pressure was why so many dignitaries have come to trust her, and why Hildegarde appointed her Thane. After a few seconds of thinking, she crossed to the desk and scribbled a quick note. She walked out onto the street and flagged a sympathetic boy employed sometimes for courier and delivery services. He would take a note to the sheriff explaining that Hureig was an aggrieved friend of Kelovath and that he was also a citizen of Frostmaw. Arresting him or hurting him for his bereavement would be seen as an act of aggression against the Frostmawian throne. She sealed the quick note with her icy blue Thane’s wax and seal and told the boy to hurry. Hopefully he would be quick enough to make a difference for Hureig.