RP:So Your Daughter's Dating a Fugitive

Part of the Rise of Larket Arc

Summary: Thronnel pays a visit to Josleen's parents to dig up information on where they could be hiding. Implying that harm will come to Josleen does the trick, and he gets Kyl'oriel to spill the beans.

Meadow (Xalious Village)

Josleen isn’t here, for she is on the lam with a meathead, an all muscles, no brains lunk of a paladin who wears gold like a flamboyant feline chief from Venturil’s southern jungles! Or so Kyl’oriel thinks, as he paces his study. His latest book, Fooling Friends Vol. 57: Tame a Dame with a Diamond! (or How to Perfect Illusions of Transparent and Semi-transparent Solids such as Diamonds, Glass, and Ice), lays half-written on his desk. Every day he tries to write 9 new pages, but today, after several false starts, he’s barely put down nine words, and they read ‘Some women like to be fooled, if it pleases.’ He was thinking of Josleen then and now, and since the day she was born. He had such hopes for her academic career when she was a baby, but she chose the life of a bard like her mother. No matter, that too could be respectable, but even that she wasted away by tethering herself to the oft-sculpted hips of daft men in shiny metal. Looks and muscles fade, Josleen! Who is this Kelovath bloke anyway? Feeling irritable, he does what he always does to soothe his frayed nerves. “JESSA!” he shouts, “Put on the bloody kettle! I need tea!”

Thronnel also thought Kelovath was a brainless moron, but his opinion of Josleen was little better. What kind of idiot runs from the cops and then thinks 'Oh, I know, the in-laws' house! They'll never find me THERE!' Foolish. And the trusting folks of this small burg were all too happy to point him in the direction of the home of Kyl'oriel The Studied. 'I'm quite the admirer of his work, and I would love to meet him in person,' he'd said. As he drew closer to the quaint little house, he found himself strangely calm. Kyl'oriel had forgotten more than most people ever knew about magic, but no one ever spoke of his battle prowess. If it came to metaphysical blows, who would stand victorious? But he was getting ahead of himself. For all he knew, Kyl'oriel was a coward who would hand over his daughter's beau with no fuss. Or perhaps he'd even be glad to be rid of him. Thronnel reached the door of the cottage and knocked politely.

Kyl’oriel heard the knock, but did not answer the door because like most geniuses, he is a spoiled and kept man whose partner of many decades ensures that his life runs on rails and his writing is never disrupted by things as banal as the post. Jessa answers the door and smiles cordially. “Hullo. May I help you?” Josleen’s mother doesn’t recognize Thronnel as a member of the Mage’s Guild or a Xalious resident, and she knows every member of each category. She has a sharp eye for faces and the village is rather small. Kyl’oriel shouts, “The tea, Jessa! I feel a creative fury coming!” He does indeed. He has pulled out a blank sheet of paper and is writing a letter to the Academy of Magic in Larket to dig up information about that oaf Kelovath.

Thronnel dipped his head. He wasn't sure if this was Kyl'oriel's wife or servant or what, but there was no reason to be rude in either case. "I hope so, my good woman. I need to speak with Kyl'oriel, and I was told this was his--" He stopped when he heard the voice from further within the house. He didn't recognize the voice at all, but he assumed that was Kyl'oriel. Thronnel cleared his throat. "I was told this was his home. My name is Thronnel, and I bring dire news of his daughter." Well, potentially dire news. "I must speak with him at once, please."

Jessa gasps, “Josleen? Has she been arrested?” Before Thronnel can answer she shouts back, “Kyl! Kyl, come quick! It’s about Josleen!” Then, remembering her public role as pretend maid, she tacks on sarcastically, “Sir!” The door’s study opens and closes and the mage shuffles quickly down the hall to greet the visitor. “Yes, yes, what’s this? You bring news of Josleen?” Pause. “My ward,” says the man from whom Josleen inherited her eyes and cheekbones. Jessa waves Thronnel into the quaintly decorated living room. For an elf posing as a bachelor who employs a sole maid, the living room sure is decorated awfully femininely. Floral print couches, rosewood furniture, flowers on any flat surface, and doilies, doilies everywhere. “I just put on the tea. Would you like any, Sir Thronnel?” She emphasizes his name for Kyl’oriel’s sake. The elf sits across the coffee table from Thronnel. On the table is a book of knitting patterns, two needles, and spools of pink and blue yarn. You know, bachelor stuff.

Thronnel followed Jessa inside and gave Kyl'oriel a pointed look. Ward. Uh-huh, sure. "No, thank you, ma'am," he said to the offer of tea before taking a seat opposite Kyl'oriel. "I don't wish to alarm you, but I fear there's no way to soften the blow. Your d... ward, Josleen, is a known affiliate with one Kelovath Khamsin, who is wanted on charges of murder. Mass murder. Of men, women, and children." Serious stuff. He pulled from his pocket a badge and offered it to Kyl'oriel for inspection. It was more ornate than it had any right to be, as befitting Larket. "I have been tasked with bringing Khamsin in. I have come to you because of his connection with Miss Josleen, and I was hoping you might have information for me."

Jessa brings in tea for Kyl’oriel and herself and sits on the same couch as Kyl’oriel, but not too close to him for the sake of elven appearances (or whatever). Thronnel being an elf meant that she knew Kyl’oriel was on higher alert to keep up the charade. Kyl’oriel inspects the badge, but isn’t too familiar with Larketian badges and assumes it’s real. “I have heard of this accusation from Josleen, however, I understand he is innocent. He couldn’t have possibly attacked the fort as he was at Hildegarde’s coronation in Frostmaw at the time of the attack. He was also injured during the war and the Kelovath seen in Frostmaw at the time was wearing crutches, while the one in Larket was not, thus I deduce the one in Larket to be an illusion and the one in Frostmaw to be real. What says the Larketian guard to that?”

Thronnel figured as much. Josleen and Kelovath must have come straight to them. "A fair enough point, my good man. However, the sheriff witnessed Khamsin hiding a chest in the Chapel of Cyris that, when opened, held a jar containing the same poison used to unleash the plague in Larket. This chest was opened with an enchanted key in Khamsin's possession. Furthermore, a priest corroborated the sheriff's story... and was found dead the following day." Thronnel looked at Kyl'oriel, gauging his reaction.

Kyl’oriel shrugs slowly. “Fair points, but none prove his guilt. “The key opens any minor lock of enchantment. I enchanted it myself and gave it to Josleen as a girl. She must have given it to Kelovath.” A fact the illusionist resents slightly, but that’s neither here nor there. Jessa pipes in, “The same illusionist who disguised himself as Kelovath the day of the attack could have disguised himself as the priest. The death of the priest, if real, is tragic, of course.” Kyl’oriel adds, “If you allow that Kelovath was framed in the initial attack, then it follows that he has no motive to kill the priest, and the appearance of motive is a set up as well.” Clearly Josleen and Kelovath had spared no detail when speaking with Kyl’oriel and Jessa. They’ve been fed the counter arguments, and what more, want to believe their daughter and the paladin of Arkhen she has chosen as her lover.

Thronnel had one more trick up his sleeve. "And what of the fermin seen skulking around their home? Or the deaths of the other witnesses? Nearly every person who publicly spoke a word against Khamsin has mysteriously ended up dead." Thronnel would personally see to that. Gotta make it authentic. Thronnel's features softened. "I understand that you don't want to believe your Josleen could be involved with something like this... But you must admit things... look quite grim."

Kyl’oriel sucks in a breath and holds it. “It does look bleak… yes… but…” He cants his head slightly left and right as he weighs his options. “He is a paladin of Arkhen, is he not? And as an illusionist, I know how illusions can be used to create a false image, even an entire crime and false persona. I simply need more convincing. But why should I be convinced? I am not the law. You are. Why are you trying to convince me?”

Thronnel fought back a smirk. He had him. "Because as far as Larket is concerned, Josleen is an accomplice. For aiding and abetting, she will hang." He let that sink in for a moment before continuing. "However... On her own, she is not a threat to the public. And frankly, I have doubts that she is half the vile things the common rabble of Larket say she is. She seems to me to be a lovestruck girl who is convinced of his innocence, not a willing participant in his atrocities. I came to you to because I was sent after Khamsin, not Josleen, and I believe you can help me find him. As thanks, I will see to it that the charges against her are dropped... Though she may still want to steer clear of Larket. Public opinion is a far more difficult beast to rein in."

Kyl’oriel is wholly won over by the lovestruck girl angle. He still believes in Kelovath’s likely innocence, but what if he’s wrong? What if Kelovath is guilty? Or, what if Kelovath is innocent, but the law judges him guilty? Innocent or not, he’ll take Josleen down with him, and the evidence stacks against the paladin. He sighs loudly. “I don’t know where he went, is the truth. We had an argument and they left the next morning without going into detail about their plans. Though if I were to look…” Jessa narrows her gaze at Kyl’oriel, but says nothing. Kyl’oriel continues, “I’d go to Frostmaw first, Cenril second, as Josleen has friends in both. As for Kelovath, I don’t know where he’d turn to for safe haven. I could pry for specifics, but... I don’t even want her arrested, you understand? I don’t even want her present when he is arrested, if possible.” Jessa adds, “I believe Kelovath has family in Venturil.” An actress like her daughter, she lies seamlessly.

Thronnel nodded as the couple finally cracks and spills the beans. Frostmaw, Cenril, Venturil. He'll get on it as soon as he leaves. "I will do my utmost to keep her safe... But there is only so much I can do to protect her from herself. If they return here, or you think of anything else to help, don't hesitate to contact me." Kyl'oriel surely knows a sending spell, no need for snail-mail. Thronnel got to his feet. "Thank you for your help in this matter. I promise you, justice will win out in the end."

Kyl’oriel feels uneasy. He isn’t sure he did the right thing here. He wants to protect Josleen, sure, but that wasn’t his primary motive. He could protect Josleen without Thronnel. The truth niggled at him from his gut and his conscience. He gave Thronnel information because he wants to separate Josleen from Kelovath. If he knew for a fact that Kelovath was innocent, he never would have squealed, but he hides his true motves behind the front of justice. He rises on wobbly knees to show Thronnel to the door. “Please, protect my daughter.” He slipped, misspoke, forgot the word ‘ward’. “As you said, she is lovestruck. Haven’t we all been? Done foolish things for love? She wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Once Thronnel has gone, he turns back to speak with Jessa, but she has already gone in a huff. A door slams elsewhere in the house.

Thronnel said nothing of the slip. It's not like it was news to him. "I understand. I will do all I can." Thronnel left the house and headed up the path into the village. He was going to need some winter gear.