RP:Liana Wants To Help
Liana steps through the door of the tavern, moonlight briefly visible through the open door. The woman is drained, this evident in the slight hunch of her shoulders, the tired steps which carry her over the threshold and into the warmth within. Once the door has been closed, Liana glides almost noiselessly to the board, glances briefly at it, then slips a hand into a pocket of her leather leggings. Producing a small piece of parchment and a quill, she scribbles a swift note, tacks it to the board, then turns to survey the room for a second time. Her mood lifts slightly as she notes a familiar figure and begins to move towards it. "Good sir knight," says she, the tone quiet and calm as always, "Might I take a moment of your time?"
Parsithius gestures toward the seat beside him with a gauntlet, as the other remains wrapped around the handle of a tankard that holds rich, amber whiskey. A slicing of azure eyes recognizes the woman's figure, and identity, before turning back to the alcohol with the same methodical perusal; "What is it you seek?"
Liana takes the proffered chair, uttering a grateful sigh as she lowers herself into it. She lifts a hand, gesturing for Nancy to come close, and as the barmaid draws near, the elf orders a single glass of wine. This done, her attention returns to Parsithius. "I seek knowledge, good sir Knight," she says, without any of the usual courteous preamble common in elvish greetings. "I worry for your queen, and know not what to do about it. The loss of the daughter of Mr Huxley is a grievous one, and yet, I had no idea the two were so close. My own heart grieves for her, but even after speaking with your queen, I am no nearer being able to aid. I offered friendship to her many moons ago, offered aid with her horses as soon as I heard the message, gave her my assurance that our healing was Larket's in a time of trouble which might have cost us all, should the Preklek have learned of our alliance. And yet, she overlooks all of this in her grief. I am not speaking ill of your lady wife, good sir Knight. I am merely concerned, and, if truth be told, a little hurt by the happenings of earlier in the day. 'Tis true that we elves are somewhat segregated, but it is our way to remain slightly apart from those who dwell not within the woods. Despite the reservations of my council, I extended a hand of welcome to the people of Larket, and I am wondering now what to do with that hand. Yes, it is still extended, but I know not for how long, for I feel that I am accomplishing nothing at present other than to make my people vulnerable. There were all kinds of accusations thrown which simply were not true. Again I have sent a courier to your lady wife, but I am not sure if he made it through, for I have had no returned letter. What is to be done?" She falls silent then, but shortly speaks up once more with an apologetic look. "I am sorry. I know I have asked many questions, but my heart bleeds for the loss of the lady, for Jacklin's hurt and for the alliance between our peoples. It is not typical for our people to be so open in our quest for information, but again, I know not what to do other than to be frank. Please forgive my forthrightness." She ceases her talk, preferring instead to lift the glass of red wine to her lips. Red liquid meets delicate pink flesh as she accepts a mouthful before lowering it once more to the polished table-top.
Parsithius listens, and he listens well, for the knight did not come to the position of King Consort with the mere ability to hack'n'slash his opponents to bits and pieces; he attained it through hard work, dedication, and learning. The latter played a large part in by listening. So it is with an utmost diligence and the faint 'click' of armored pauldrons that the male turns his torso just slightly to view the elven lady with those bright, azure eyes, like piercing gems in methodical study of the other. It is meticulous, his gaze, and doesn't allow the slightest hint of visible syllable to fall from her lips unnoticed, and should his ears have to strain to continue for a soft voice's leisure, so be it; it would strain without any semblence of complaint. When her words finish, the man continues to drink in silence for several moments, allowing the draw of some awkwardness between the two on purpose, as if to cause the other to fidget nervously, or intend to. It is broken first only by the subtle clearing of the knight's throat, who secedes it by speech; "Your dedication to protect your people is admirable, elf, but I am certain your means of which has become skewed with a paranoia. It is quite blatant now; you fear that others will see you as weak, should you show empathy. You fear that others will attempt to take advantage of your kingdom and people, should you bend to their whim. Larket boasts the absolute strongest military power in the land, and you're telling me that you're afraid of continuing to extend a hand of welcome and friendship?" He shakes his head, "Bruised egos are not befitting for someone of your statue." More polite diplomacies are offered thereafter, "The Queen is blatant, forthright, and honest. She is a shrewd diplomat only because of that regard, that others are unused to such a frank person. However, she means everything she says, all of the time. She is not going to set aside her quest for justice of her deceased friend merely because you are offering you help with horses; the horses don't matter right now. What matters is Beatrix, her body, and her unknown killer." A pause, a drink of whiskey, before he continues, "The alliance between Larket and the Elves of Sage rests solely in your hands. We came to your aid while the Duregar were occupying it. I personally oversaw that campaign and brought Dergious to a surrender, at the cost of Larketian lives. And your people aided Larket during the Prek'lek's second invasion. Do you believe that all will be lost because of a verbal lashing? Because you happened to say the wrong thing at the wrong time?"
Liana shakes her head franticly at the man's words. "Gods, no," she exclaims, the first hint of emotion visible in her expression. "you misunderstand me, sir knight. Yes, I am offering aid with the horses, but that is a background matter rather than being the driving force behind my seeking of your time this night. No, i seek information upon the murder, that I might set my rangers to tracking. We have aided each other, yes, and I wish that to continue. My ego, whilst bruised I shall admit, is not the motivation here. Larket and Sage benefit each other, you with your military power and we with our healing abilities and animal husbandry. I do not wish to see such an alliance dissolved, and yet, I know not how to proceed, given your queen's hostility towards myself. I have learned that this is, perhaps, due in some small part to the loose and insulting tongue of the head ranger. I cannot ascertain this however until I have spoken to your queen. It seems as though the ranger in question has given the impression that I am in favour of elves, for want of a better expression, lording it over other unless they conform to what we want. This is simply not the case. This false information on top of the queen's loss and my seeming inactivity is enough to cause the anger, and I fully understand that. It needs rectifying, though, and for that, she needs to consent to speak with me. Empathy is not something I hide, as you saw earlier this day. I do not show emotions openly, but were I lacking in empathy, I would not have offered aid to the queen in a personal matter of the heart, nor would I be grieving for the baker and his family. Paranoia? No. We elves shall continue, regardless of the opinion of others, so it is not our destruction I fear. Rather, I believe that what your lady wife said is true in part. We have, especially in matters of politics, been segregated for too long. I am forward-thinking enough to know that this needs to change. Yet again, however, the forward motion of our relationship rests with your queen, not with I. My hand is still extended, my rangers ready to act upon information I simply cannot get from her. How am I to aid if I know not what to look for? How am I to help if I have no information on the murder? Please, tell me what you know, or at least the pieces useful for trackers, for druids. I can speak to the animals if the death happened somewhere they might frequent. I can have the trail breakers track footprints, but only if we cooperate." This last plea costs the woman much, but she does not allow it to show. Rather, she studies the knight before her with a frank, open gaze, hers as strong-willed as his own. The two make an odd couple, one dwarfed by the presence of the other, yet each possessing a core of iron that would drive the elf at least to great lengths to make good on her promises.
Parsithius pauses for a moment as his entire soliloquy is destroyed and torn apart by the other, causing him to grin in the slightest, swiftest, briefest, and most subtle of fashions as he speaks, "Remind me to study on my wordplay and diplomacy, surely, elf." Another swig of his tankard is taken, as the other states, "The murder happened far, far from Sage. I do not know how much more aid we can be given, but if you truly wish to help, seek me out on the morrow. Or have one of your elves join the investigation, for leaders are certainly quite busy. Preferably not that Lirithen fellow. He's a twit."
Kirien slips through the doorway after another of those odd crashes that shakes dust from the roof occurs, the gentle growl of a wyvern following in the wake of the Elf. Weaving his way over to the bar he proceeds to hop up onto the counter and settle there, legs swinging idly and bright eyes surveying those present. Perhaps something interesting will happen today.
Liana flashes the man a slight grin of her own, no more than a twitch upwards of the corners of those pale pink lips and a mischievous twinkle in the eye, but no doubt one as observant as Parsithius would notice the signs of amusement. "Diplomacy? Ah, why bother, sir knight, at this stage? I have already had the worst of a tongue lashing, so there is little need to, ah, what is the expression, beat around the bush? any more. I shall send an elf, but it will not be Lirithen. That young man is going to have a tongue lashing of his own, and I can only apologise if he has said anything out of turn. Know this though. I seek unity, not discord. If you hear otherwise, I pray you, discuss the matter with me in order that I might address the problem at its root. Plants grow best when dead, rotting wood is cut away. Is the druid Rikailin to your liking to join the investigation? I can send her, together with a troop of the elite rangers, who will aid in the tracking. Come to that, it may prove useful to have a group of those on hold in order that, should any member of the party discover signs, the source of the disturbance can be reached in haste without the need to call in Mistress Rikailin. I too shall do my part, and will begin to seek the wisdom of the animals. Might I ask where the body of the lady was found? I shall begin there."
Parsithius lofts a brow at Liana, cornered with the slightest smile at her words and mischievous twinkle within her gaze; a sign of amusement, certainly, and true to the narration, the knight does not fail to notice it, even as his own fades with time. "Aye, I know not any Mistress Rikailin. I am not opposed to the druid entering the investigation." Another swig from that tankard, settling and finishing the amber liquid to rush down his gullet in simplistic, satisfying gulps. Upon placing it back down -no, during so!- the man speaks again, "Eternal Forest. There is rope and guards to designate the spot. They will give you the case files thus far."
Kirien is listening intently to this conversation, and absently notes down the, erm, directions given by the Knight. He may or may not stalk somebody today.
Liana nods, rising from her chair as she does so. "This is good, for if it is in a forest, no doubt one or more animals will have seen the body deposited. I shall collect the case files myself, and shall inform mistress Rikailin of her involvement. I am also at your disposal. The Eternal Grove's disappearance takes some of my time, but I have enough left for this. I pray you communicate with me should you discover anything of more import that is not contained within the case files." She pauses only to drain the last of her wine, then turns and moves swiftly from the tavern. A small tortoise-shell cat, obviously heavily pregnant, slips from a chair by the fire and pads in her wake. The druid seems too pre-occupied to notice.
Related Pages:
- Larket
- Part of the Case of the Burned Baker Arc