RP:Truth

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: After a hard day in the training yard and elsewhere, Emrith decides to visit Frostmaw's tavern for a little ease and relaxation.There, he meets Talyara and, after a few pleasantries are exchanged, they strike up a business arrangement involving the creation of a truth serum to be administered to a certain human with blood on his hands. After talk of a more complex scheme, the pair agree that Talyara should attempt to befriend their target in order to foster trust which may make it easier to dose the man with her concoction. The future is uncertain, but Emrith may have an ally in this selfish campaign.

Frostmaw Tavern

An eddy of cool wind at the tavern door, a scuffle, three sharp stamps of boots on stone, and Emrith enters the well-loved establishment in a stumbling lurch. He curses in Elvish, then straightens, brushes his cloak, shrugs his shoulders and continues forward, letting the door clap shut behind him. The subject of both his curse and his stumble would be apparent only were one to go outside; there, a drunken frost giant has fallen asleep near the doors, with one arm thrown casually across the doorsill on the outside. Two inches closer, and Frostmaw's tavernkeeper would have to rouse the big fellow in order to get him to move his arm, which would be propping the door open. Thankfully, he has fallen fortuitously enough to be only a nuisance, and the big building is able to keep most of its heat. Emrith heads across the open floor, then spots Talyara on sight as she shuffles her cards. He hails her with a raised hand and a reserved smile. "Well met, mistress Talyara."

Talyara feels a cool rush of air move across her bare shoulders and shiver slightly. Her black squirrel who has been snoozing in her lap, rouses and immediately scurries over to the hearth, taking comfort in its warming flames. The half elf’s large emerald eyes turn to face the new patron. A sweet smiles tugs on the corner of her lips as a familiar face comes into view. “Hail, Mister Emrith! How do you fair this evening?” Her fingers stop shuffling for a moment as she speaks to the elf, raising her hand to him as well.

Emrith could tell Talyara how he is, truthfully, but this is only their second meeting. Instead of detailing his various physical ailments, including a sore back from a glancing kick taken by that self-same drunken frost giant earlier in the day, and vexation at the doings of a particular drow, he furrows his brow and then sighs, a soft little sound. "Well enough. It could be better, and it could be worse. And yourself?" Emrith glances at the squirrel as it skitters past and remarks, "A peculiar familiar you have there."

Talyara casts a sideways glance at the squirrel and rolls her eyes and deep sigh lifting a stray strand of hair from her face. “It was Lanara’s idea. He’s a feisty fellow. She seemed to this it, uh, humorous, to provide me with a fire obsessed critter knowing full well that only days prior I nearly died at the hands of a human with the same infliction.” She shakes her head, scattering those curls once again as she places her cards on the table, ignoring them for the moment as she reached into the pouch at her hip, removing a small jar. “That is neither here nor there, at least the bruises are nearly gone." With that statement she spins the top of the jar and reveal a pale green balm. Scooping some up on her fingertips, she gently begins to spread it along her collarbone and neck where some faint bruising can still be seen. A soft, moan escapes her lips as the herbal ointment loosens up her muscles some more. “I suppose I would say I am well enough. Could I buy you a drink?”

Emrith shakes his head, slowly so as to convey that his rejection of the offer is considered rather than reflexive. "I thank you, but no. I drink as little as I can these days; with my stature, fondness for alcohol is dangerous." He chuckles, and takes a few steps closer. "You are hurt," he continues, taking a quick look only as Talyara rubs the salve into the muscles near her collarbone. "How did it happen, if I may be so bold?"

Talyara places the jar on the table as she finishes tending to her wounds. “I had my nose stuck in a book and naturally had an ungraceful moment upon tripping over a rock. I had conjured my blue flames to help me find my tome. Unbeknownst to me, the self-appointed governor of Rynvale was dealing with a criminal in the vicinity. Upon seeing my witch fire, said man lost control and rushed towards me. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, I suppose, he wanted to play with his meal before he killed me. Thankfully, the governor stopped him before my injuries became life threatening.” She lifts her face, her mesmerizing emerald hues sparkling in the firelight, as she looks up at her fellow elf, “A quick herbal concoction has helped ease the pain and aid in the healing process.”

Emrith has just been struck with an absolutely brilliant idea. It would not yet do to seem over-eager, however, so Emrith stops a few feet away and does his best to keep the dawning joy off his face. It is a gamble, this plan, but if it pays off, then a guilty man who escaped justice may die, or at the least be proven guilty beyond any shadow of a doubt. This is a matter dear to the spell-blade's heart, but for now he will speak nothing of it. "Herblore has never been one of my own strong suits," the wood-elf comments. "I know a few salves to ease pain, akin to the kind you are using if the scent is to be trusted...but that, alas, is the end of my knowledge. I had been hoping to find someone knowledgeable in such things to ask a question or two. Are you such a person, and are you willing?" Taking a bit of a chance, Emrith adds, "There may be a task in it for you, if all things align correctly, and that task will pay gold, or a favour."

Talyara cocks her head to the side as she continues to look up at the man. She inclines her chin towards the chair across the table from her, silently inviting Emrith to join her. She closes up the jar of her salve before tipping her chair back in familiar fashion, wiping the excess on an old rag. One day, she would topple over, but tonight was not the time. She contemplates his question thoughtfully. “I cannot pretend that I am an expert in herblore, but I did study it greatly under my mother. Tis the mark of a witch, knowing pieces of the elements. She was a skilled herbalist, I only hope I can be fraction of who she was. What knowledge do you seek?”

Emrith takes the offered chair, reaching it with calm and measured steps. He sits down facing Talyara and folds his hands on the tabletop. "I am wondering," he replies, "if there is any sort of herbal concoction that, when rendered upon someone, will loosen their tongue...in the figurative sense, not the literal one. A truth serum, to put it more crudely. The less taste it has, and the easier it can be mixed into something innocuous like water or alcohol, the better. Does such a potion exist, and if it does, would you know how to make it, or know of someone who does?" Still, no eagerness or excitement in his voice; elf or not, Talyara is still, at present, a potential negotiator, and may not provide what he seeks without haggling. The easiest way to drive up the price of an item is to communicate how badly you want it.

Talyara catches her bottom lip between her teeth as she wracks her brain, trying to remember the knowledge of her mother. Even when she was a young witchling, not yet practicing herbal magic on her own, she remembered watching her mother harvest herbs from the woods, stringing them up to dry, and then taking the pestle to them, pounding them down into powders for potions and other concoctions. After several quiet moments of reflection, the half elf regards Emrith again. “This potion you speak of, I assume the person who administered it would have then interrogated the person to receive the answers they were trying to get?”

Emrith nods his blond head, then elucidates further. "Something with an antidote would be best. If the antidote were applied first, the potions effects would be minimized or mostly blocked. It should, if possible, be a potion which an interrogator can be forced to drink as well. I know that my requirements are steep, but the first step is ascertaining whether or not this scenario can even be made real. If a questioner can imbibe or use a substance, and then, say, share a drink with his would-be subject, so that both have swallowed enough of the truth serum for it to be effective. The interrogator would be protected while the subject was not. I hope I have been clear, and that you do not think me presumptuous for asking. As I have said previously, my knowledge of herbs is comparably small; my specialization lies in the blades upon my back."

Talyara considers his elaborate request for a moment. “Drinking from the same cup as the victim would be risky, there is no doubt that some of the potion would end in both parties. I see that remedied in two ways. One if only a small sip, or faux sip was taken, such as pursing your lips when bringing the goblet to your mouth to drink, so no liquid passes. Another option would be to include the potion in a sauce for food. If there was a way to prepare separate dishes and ensure only the victim’s had the potion’ed sauce would be the safest bet. All plates look the same but only one has the concoction in it. Are either of those options viable for your endeavor?” She young witch hoped she was providing the information he desired. She, however, continued to comb her mind for other alternatives as lists of herbs came to her consciousness.

Emrith shakes his head, slowly and regretfully. "Those options may work, but if the person to be investigated insists on eating the interrogator's food while the interrogator eats the food prepared for the one to be questioned, the plan will backfire. I am envisioning a scenario where there are two people at table, and each has a plate of food or glass of wine handy. Both plates or glasses would be dosed with the serum. We are talking about a free individual, it should be said, and not a captive. A captive could be forced to eat or drink at his captor's wish, and that would make things much easier...but in this case, subtlety is key. This is why I ask if there is a truth serum which can be somewhat nullified by prior preparation. If, for instance, the interrogator were to chew a certain type of leaf or inhale a certain type of smoke for days before the planned engagement, to build up a resistance." He shrugs his shoulders. "Please forgive me. I am only guessing at things which might be possible; if you are telling me that this latter thing cannot be done, then we will simply have to find another way to be crafty. I will have to avoid eating or drinking whatever my subject does, if his portion has been modified." Only too late does Emrith realize that the more he speaks, the more he is revealing himself to be the interrogator in question, and it might even be clear by now that he has a specific subject in mind...a subject currently at large, in need of a little justice.

Talyara downcasts her eyes to the table as a mischievous smile plays on her lips as he offers her more information that she intended on getting out of him. Perhaps she was a good interrogator, herself, without meaning to be. She leans forward on the table, resting her elbows on the wood, cradling her face in her hands. “I do not do well with half-truths, Emrith, so lets skip the run around, shall we?” Though her words were straight forward, the playful smile stayed on her lips as she watched his face. “Are you asking me to help you create a truth serum to force someone to talk?”

Emrith does not have even the good grace to look sheepish. When Talyara asks for the truth, he decides at once to give it, believing - perhaps erroneously - that she can be silenced if trouble should come as a result. After taking one look around and seeing only Drargon and the squirrel at present, Emrith nods his head curtly. "A man, whose name I will not give at present, provided a map to the elves. The map had a proposed drow patrol route on it, and the human claimed that this patrol would be vulnerable. I took him, along with four other elves, to ambush the drow party in Sage. Only he and I survived, because the drow themselves had laid an ambush. This human was in on it...might well have signalled them that I and my elves were in position. He was complicit in the murder of four elves, two of whom I know by name. Larkin and Laheya, a ranger and a druid respectively...perhaps you know them?" Emrith pauses here, waiting for a nod or a shake of the head, before finishing his tale. "To make a long story short, this man is at large because the council and Frostmaw both lack the required evidence to convict him. He is free due to lack of evidence. We had no telepaths handy, and nothing that would force him to speak the truth. He was not precisely believed by the high council, but they were not convinced enough of his guilt to detain him. As long as he walks free, this human is a threat to every living elf, and any friend of the elves. I know not his full dealings with the drow, but I suspect that he is some sort of mercenary or assassin, taking orders from a fence. In truth, I wish to kill him, though I will readily have him confess his crimes and be tried in a court of law. The war is a bad time to bother others with requests they deem frivolous, but it is a worse time to let a traitor walk around in our midst. That, Talyara, is my business."

Talyara listens intently as Emrith speaks, hanging on to each word. Looks of disgust are offered at the mention of the traitorous human and the loss of some of her own kind. Not being familiar with the individuals who lost their lives she shakes her head. As the story concludes, the witch considers her position for a moment. “I appreciate you being honest with me, it’s much simpler, in my opinion, than attempting to wriggle information from another with only partial information.” She begins to chew on her bottom lip once again, brow furrowed in concentration. “When were you planning on this meeting? I have knowledge of herbs that will help your cause, but protecting you from the serum proves to be more difficult. If you do not mind allowing me some time, I can sift through some of my books to see if a solution comes to mind.”

Emrith sighs with relief, and breaks into a thin smile. "It does not have to be done immediately," he responds. "The sooner the better, of course, but immediacy is not required. I am more interested in whether or not it can be done; if it can, then we can determine, if you are willing, how exactly to do it. The human must be approached, and sued for peace. I must speak with him and convince him, if I can, that I am willing to forget our animosities in favour of the war we fight. I will be polite and apologetic, and if I can get him to a meeting where we share drinks...then we will see what he says. This is obviously going to take a little time, so you have ample opportunity, I hope, to study what you know and to tell me if there is a way to do as I seek."

Talyara runs a hand through her chestnut locks, waves spilling across her back as she does so. As she lifts her hand, the blank ink of a rune tattoo can be seen on the inside of her right wrist. For just a moment, the blank ink seems to glow red, as if an ember on the hearth, but as soon as it was glanced it is gone. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light or the dancing flames? “I will help you in your quest, Emrith. I am a big believer in karma and it seems like, in this instance, in light of the coming war, certain things must be taken into our own hands.” She splays her arms across the table and leans forward towards the elf. She speaks in a soft voice, just barely above a whisper. “I do have one request, though.”

Emrith looks guardedly at the woman sitting across the table, then raises an eyebrow. "A request? What is your request? I cannot consent to it, or deny it, without knowing what it is."

Talyara offers another one of her smiles and chuckles. “You need to learn to relax Emrith, smile some more, it suits you.” She speaks playfully to the elf, attempting to put him at ease. “I would like to be here for the meeting. I don’t need to be seen or participate on any level other than preparing the drink or dish. I would just prefer to see this through.” She didn’t note that she wanted to be present in case something happened to Emrith. She was not a healer in the traditional sense, but there were perks to being a witch.

Emrith narrows his eyes and regards Talyara with something caught between concern and suspicion. "I may be willing to grant you this, but I want to know why. Please do not mistake my question, as I mean you no offense, but I see no good reason to have any here except, perhaps, an impartial witness who can be called upon to hear the human's testimony. So will you tell me? Or is this a condition of yours which you will not embellish?"

Talyara leans back from the table, tipping her chair back in usual fashion, keeping those doe eyes on Emrith. A internal battle wages on in her mind on whether or not she should speak the truth. After a long pause, an awkward several moments of silence, Talyara decides to go ahead, as he had been truthful with her. “I do not wish this is come across as a lack of confidence in my work. Just because I possess magical abilities, I am still merely human." She moves her gaze to her hands, seemingly very interested in something on her nails. “If something were to go wrong with your anecdote I wish to be here in case something happens to you. So I can help…” she finishes lamely.

Emrith nods his head, and some of the tension in his shoulders, which he had not noticed till now, lets go. "then in that case, I thank you and would agree to your request." Suddenly, Emrith sits bolt upright and slaps a hand down on the table. "I just had another thought, and it may make this much easier. It would still involve a truth serum, but perhaps all this business with the antidote would be sidestepped if...but I should not ask." Emrith takes his lower lip between his white teeth, then apparently decides to at least bring up the subject. "If I were to tell you this man's name, give you a description of him so that you might recognize him on sight, would you be willing or able to get close to him? You, as a relative newcomer who is to all appearances ignorant of the local doings and politics, might be able to befriend him, gain his trust. Doing it this way might let you yourself dose him with enough serum to make him pliable and ready for questioning, but it also comes at personal risk. He might want more from you than is proper. You might not wish to grow to know him, only to betray him. The chances are good that someone will get hurt. Yet, it is an option, depending on both your willingness and investiture. You have but to decline, and I will not attempt to sway you; I suggest it only as a possible course, and not as a means you must adopt."

Talyara jumps slightly in surprise as Emrith’s hand contacts the table, causing her chair to fall back to the ground. She listens intently as the elf offers a different option. The witch takes up a lock of her hair and twirls it, weaving it in between her fingers. “That seems to be a safer option for you, it would at least prevent you from ingesting any poison which I much prefer. I would most certainly be willing to help, my only concern being, who’s to say this man would want anything to do with me?”

Emrith furrows his brow in deep thought, and hums under his breath. "Yes, it is possible that he would want nothing to do with you. But you strike me as a woman of means. Have you any means of charming him, even gently, so as to make yourself seem more appealing to him? More friendly? More trustworthy? A glamour you could somehow cast or conjure about yourself for his benefit alone? I know little of the arts you practise, Talyara, so please forgive my ignorance. And yes, this plan does minimize the risk for me, but it maximizes it for you. This should not be taken up lightly." He steeples his long fingers on the table before him.

Talyara gently drums her fingers on the table before her, as remains lost in thought once again. “I am a woman who, when she puts her mind to something, sees it through to the end. That being said my skills in charming are limited to form fitting clothing and my long eyelashes.” As if on cue she feigns a sultry look in those mesmerizing eyes and bats her lashes in Emrith’s direction, chewing on her bottom lip ever so slightly. Never someone who was comfortable with her own beauty, Talyara giggles to herself and shakes her head. “I don’t know how alluring I will be to him but I can certainly try.”

Emrith unclasps his hands and spreads them on the tabletop, fingers slightly apart. "You may not even have to do that. Perhaps he will simply want a friend, or a willing ear. You may not be required to do much more than buy him a drink or two. I speak as if bedding him or bewitching him will be necessary, when neither may be the case. I am glad you are willing to help here. It still may come to that antidote I spoke of, but I am hoping not. It is much more risky that way, for both of us. I feel a little doubtful, sending you into this. It makes me feel like I am treating you like a sacrifice."

Talyara smiles gently across the table at Emrith. She reaches out and places her hand on top of his, a friendly and comforting gesture on the witch’s part. “You aren’t putting a knife to my throat forcing me to go out there and do this. You suggested, I accepted. There is no reason to feel as if I’m a sacrifice.” She chuckles softly, “Although, I must admit, it is nice to know that someone cares, even if it is on professional level.”

Emrith allows Talyara to touch his hand, though without knowing her well his first instinct is to withdraw. He takes no particular comfort from the gesture but understands its symbolic value. "That, at least, is good to know. And yes, I care...on a professional level, as you say. I know you as little else, thus far. If I should ever call you friend, I will care for you on more than a professional level, I assure you."

Talyara withdraws her hand from his, placing it gently in her lap, and nods her head at his words “And I assure you, I shall return the gesture. Now, to continue our business ordeal. I need the details of said person so I may keep my eyes open. I will, however, continue to pursue my books and keep an eye out for an appropriate antidote, should that be necessary, which I very much hope it won’t.”

Emrith nods curtly, then leans forward, lowering his voice even further. It is almost a whisper. "He is a human by the name of Zendor. A warrior, who happens to frequent Frostmaw a great deal." Emrith explains in sketchy details what Zendor looks like, enough so that only a dedicated impostor with a similar body size and similar mannerisms would be able to easily fool her. "There are some here in the city who trust himm, at least to a point. Hildegarde the Silver is one. She likely will not object to you being seen around Zendor or anything like that, but hopefully no violence happens as a result of you approaching him or speaking to him. I wish to thank you, Talyara, for being willing and able to aid me in this. I often feel as if I get little of the help I feel that I need these days; everyone is wrapped up in their own affairs."

Talyara absorbs the information that Emrith offers her, making a mental sketch of Zendor in her mind as he rattles off the details of the human. “I will do my best to slip him the serum and I will keep you posted on happenings should something come up.” The witch waves off his thanks. “I have been on my own for many years now, I know I would have been appreciative had someone offered to help me out. It’s my pleasure.”

Emrith rises from the table and gives his spine a stretch; it crackles rather loudly and the elf grunts with both pleasure and a little pain. "For now, I have other business in other places. Do keep me posted of what is happening. Do not feed him the serum just yet; hopefully you can simply get him to trust you. It has been a pleasure better making your acquaintance, Talyara, and I hope that we have more occasion to speak in future...and not with such gravity, either, for business is a demanding mistress." Emrith chuckles at his own quip, then turns gracefully and makes his way back toward the tavern's exit.