| Main Page |
* Lisl lets herself in the back door of the Hall, tossing up the key and catching it happily before pocketing it again. "Good thing I never turned this one in...I'd completely forgotten about it." ::grinning wryly:: "And if Moon Dancer wants it back, he'll just have to ask for it himself, won't he?" ::looking around a moment at the sun-washed Hall:: Mmm...forgot how nice it was here at this time of day, too... ::shaking her head and starting up the stairs, knocking softly at the first closed door:: Master Tenbones? Are you here? It's Lisl Ferinsdottir...we spoke last night? <Marten> ::after a few moments, Marten walks down from the upstairs rooms, drying his head with a towel:: Milady Lisl! Well met! ::he walks down, picks up one of the mugs, and places it under a tap. Smiling, he pours himself a glass of Mist, and walks over to a table. He motions for Lisl to join him:: Here, milady. I'm assuming you're here to help me regain the memories you think I've lost. No time like the present, is there? <Lisl> ::watching Marten's movements, Lisl gives him an odd look:: No.... no time like the present, indeed.... ::smiling at him sunnily:: M'lord Marten, you wouldn't know this, of course, but... many years ago, I tended bar here, at Sealgair's. ::chuckling as she looks off into memory:: You know, this bar is so mixed-up, that we HallMasters were all given a map-- such as we knew of-- to be able to pull the right taps the first time (usually!) in this crazy gnomish system.... ::indicating the wall of taps with a wave of her hand, and shaking her head:: It took me at least a year to become familiar with the most popular taps, and you know, to this day I mess them up.... ::breaking off abruptly, as she sees him start to lift his mug:: I'm so sorry, listen to me ramble on... what is that you're drinking, anyway? <Marten> ::Marten smiles at Lisl, as he lowers the glass from his mouth:: Well, I'm not sure what it's called. It's green, fizzy and refreshing. <Lisl> ::leaning forward to peer into his cup, and grinning:: Ah...Mist. Don't drink too much of that, or you'll be wired for a week. <Marten> ::looks oddly at Lisl:: Wired? What do you mean? <Lisl> ::turning her smile towards him:: And I'll refrain from commenting on whose favorite everyday drink that was... <Marten> ::rolls his eyes playfully:: Of course it was. And, you probably think that, since I was able to find it in this maze of taps, that it means I am, in fact, Moon Dancer... <Lisl> Wired...::thinking a moment:: It's slang I picked up from other Patrons, but it means...wide awake, jittery...you know, "up". <Marten> ::nods:: I see. It must be the caffeine in it, then. <Lisl> ::shrugging lightly and grinning:: Well, you *already* know I think you're Moon Dancer. I don't think this proves anything...but it is an odd coincidence. <Lisl> The what? ::furrowing her brow:: I know a little herbalism, but I'm not a master.... <Marten> Caffeine. It's an additive, and a stimulant. It seems that Mist has quite a bit of it... <Lisl> Ahh...yes, that's probably it. Mist is *very* much a stimulant, that I know...heh. I don't drink it very often. I'm on edge quite enough on my own. <Marten> ::laughs:: On edge, are you? Whatever for? Does it have something to do with this mysterious clan of yours, then? <Lisl> Heh...yes, I suppose you could say that's partly it. But part of it is just the nature of my profession. I'm semi-retired as an adventurer, but it's not the sort of thing that's easy for me to walk away from. I still spend a good part of my days in the woods, hunting, keeping my hand in... <Marten> ::nods:: An adventurer, then. That explains some things. I take it that Moon Dancer was a fellow adventurer, then? <Lisl> ::starts to shake her head, and pauses:: Well...we didn't adventure together regularly, but we did have the odd trip together. He w...he *is* an adventurer, though...as are most who frequent the Hall regularly. <Marten> Really now? So, a pub for retired adventurers, with wandering glassware and the like, a personal deity... Seems I've wandered into quite the lair here, then. <Lisl> For the past, oh, five years, I suppose, he's been the Master of this bar...but the wanderlust took him again, about...hmm....six or eight months ago, I'd say, and we'd not seen him since that time. <Marten> ::furrows his brow slightly:: How long ago? <Lisl> ::shrugging a shoulder modestly:: Not too unlike half the bars from here to the Sword Coast... <Marten> ::recovers from his consternation, and smiles:: Indeed. But I've yet to see one where the silverware is animated, milady. <Lisl> About six or eight months, I believe...::tipping her head back:: Could be more, but I think that's about right. <Marten> ::looks at his glass of Mist, frowning:: That's what I thought you said. ::gets quiet for a moment, and mutters:: Interesting... <Lisl> Heh..that's true. But not many bars had wild mages as regular patrons, either. Although I can't remember for certain if it was one of Erdian's tricks or Sealgair's own desire to keep his silverware from roaming off with that kender.... <Lisl> ::raising an eyebrow:: Another strange coincidence? Mmm, that reminds me... <Marten> ::laugh:: Sealgair... He was the previous owner, then? <Lisl> Aye, he was. ::smiling fondly, and glancing over her shoulder at the swords mounted on the wall over the fireplace:: Those were his. <Marten> ::looks at the swords, and leaves his mug of Mist on the table:: Really? * Marten stands, and walks over to the swords, placing a hand on them:: What happened to them? <Lisl> Indeed. They....::swallowing:: that is, Sealgair wasn't a native to this realm, and his weapons were...as unusual and rare as he was. <Lisl> When he died, much of the magic died from them, as well. He said they contained a piece of his soul.... <Marten> Wasn't a native? Where did he call home, then? Kara-Tur? Or somewhere West of Faerun? <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: He called himself Kalthean...he hailed from another world. <Marten> ::nods, understanding:: Soulblades. That explains it, then. ::he lifts his hand from the blade, and lowers his head, barely moving his lips:: <Marten> ::he looks up:: Another world? A 'jammer, then. This place gets more interesting; I've heard rumors of the practice, but never met someone who knew of it. <Lisl> ::cocking her head to one side:: You say that a lot. "That explains it," I mean. Actually, Sealgair wasn't the only one who hailed from another world. ::a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth:: <Lisl> Knew of it? I've done it...not by choice, mind you. <Marten> ::smiles back:: Of course... <Rhys> ::a shuffling noise is heard, and the kitchen door swings open. Rhys walks out wearing an apron and peering about inquisitively.:: Ah. I thought I heard voices. I'm sorry I didn't come out to accommodate both of you earlier, but I was a little distracted back in the kitchen. <Marten> ::looks at Lisl, surprised:: You've been...? Now, this is something we'll have to share for a later time, it seems. If I remember correctly, I'm here at your bidding... <Marten> ::smiles at Rhys:: Milord Rhys! Well met, good sir, but you needn't serve us, if you have other things to do. We were just sitting about, chatting. <Lisl> ::rubbing a hand against the back of her head, trying to jog her memory:: I can't recall the events precisely...it happened in my absence...but I remember hearing that Sealgair's last act was to use those swords ::pointing:: to put Moon Dancer...back in balance, somehow, with his world. He was...sick, from being gone so long. <Marten> ::turning to face Rhys:: It seems that milady Lisl is still convinced that, in some way or other, I'm the owner of this establishment. <Lisl> Rhys, good to see you...pull up a stool. We're just chatting, and you should be off-duty at this time. <Lisl> Actually, you asked me to stop by and try to jog free your own missing memories...and until they surface, I'll likely have a hard time giving up on my belief, anyway. <Marten> ::looks at Lisl:: Milady, if you're not careful, you'll convince me that I'm this Moon Dancer, too... <Rhys> Thank you, Lisl, I don't mind if I do. ::pulls up a stool and settles on it:: I still spend a fair number of my off-hours here. Things to do don't seem to dry up and go away on their own like they should. <Marten> ::nods, smiling:: So I did, so I did. <Lisl> ::grinning:: Well, I'm well-known for recklessness in the face of danger. <Marten> ::laughs:: Danger? <Rhys> ::to Marten:: If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, walks like a duck, you can't be surprised when people call it a duck. <Lisl> ::shrugging a shoulder, a glint in her eyes:: Turn of phrase. <Marten> ::snorts:: I suppose you can't, Rhys. <Lisl> Actually....you were asking about Sealgair's swords....I can show you a "living" example of them, if you like.... <Marten> So, Lisl... what memories do you want to restore first? I wouldn't know what to ask about, it seems... <Marten> ::looks curious:: A living example? Please. I'll admit that I'm more than a bit intrigued... <Lisl> I don't know about that...you've been doing a fair job on your own. Sealgair was one of Moon Dancer's best friends here. <Marten> Was he, now? Is that how Moon Dancer came to own the Meade Hall, then? Sealgair left it to him in a will of sorts? <Lisl> ::nods and sits up straight on her bar stool, holding one arm upright in front of her, fist closed, and glancing up at Marten:: I suppose I don't need to warn you not to be surprised.... <Marten> Of course you don't. I'm starting to expect it here... <Lisl> I was absent during the changeover, so you'd actually have to ask one of the other patrons that question...but something of the sort, I imagine. ::focusing on her forearm, where a silvery fog has appeared, coalescing into the form of a long, silvery bracer clasped about her forearm, four long, wickedly sharp "claws" protruding from it over her knuckles:: <Lisl> I'm afraid it doesn't come off, but you're welcome to inspect it. Don't worry, I won't make any sudden moves. <Marten> ::looks slightly taken aback, but recovers quickly and looks at the silver bracer, then at Lisl's arm:: Doesn't that hurt? <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: Not at all. I feel a slight tingle, and a firm pressure...but it's lighter than similar armor I've worn. <Marten> ::frowns:: Tingle? <Lisl> This was...created from the same metal as those. ::nodding towards the swords:: Yes. ::stating the obvious:: They're magical. <Marten> ::smiles:: Ah. I figured as much. I just wasn't sure if that was what you meant. * Rhys looks somewhat intently at Lisl's claws, an interested smile on his face. <Lisl> ::shrugging a shoulder:: I also don't often call for them unless I intend to use them, so I suppose there's something of a...mental habit to that, as well. <Marten> ::after examining the claws from a distance, Marten smiles and looks at Lisl:: Are /these/ part of your clan's symbology, then? * Marten looks at his mug, which is suddenly empty. He stands, and looks at the other two. "Can I get someone anything, while I refill my mug?" <Lisl> ::grinning:: Aye, very much so. Though by no means...normal battle wear. ::extending her arm, turning it over as she looks at her claws:: I received these under rather...extraordinary conditions. Their original owner was just as surprised as I was that I was able to use them, and by the form they took. <Lisl> ::responding almost automatically:: Mulekick would be nice. <Rhys> Nothing for me, thank you. <Marten> ::walks over to the bar, filling his mug, then picking up a small glass for Lisl. He holds his up:: Will this be enough, milady? <Lisl> ::pointing:: I usually take one of the mugs from the wall over there. You'd kill a glass like that with 'kick. * Marten sets the glass down, and picks up a mug from the wall. He then pulls the 'Kick out from underneath the bar, and fills the mug 3/4 full of 'Kick. He never spills a drop. <Marten> ::walking back over to the table, he sets his mug down and hands the 'Kick to Lisl:: Milady, your poison... <Lisl> ::toasting him with it:: Literally. You're quite good at that. ::grinning:: One might think you'd done something like this before... <Marten> ::laughs:: You're persistent, much like milady Zoya. Between the two of you, I'll be donning an apron here and running the place in a week, oblivious of how I ended up here! <Lisl> Heh. You nearly could, based on the abilities you've already demonstrated. Actually...how did you know where to find it? * Rhys smiles slyly. "We could use an extra hand about the place, I admit." <Lisl> ::tapping her mug with a finger indicating the 'kick:: <Marten> ::smiling:: I ... I... ::his smile turns into a slight frown:: Well, I don't know, to be honest. It was just there. <Lisl> Mmmhmm....::taking a sip, and licking her lips:: And you were careful not to spill any, either. Good thing, too. <Marten> ::looks at Lisl, amused:: Why's that? Will it eat a hole in the bar, or just take the tarnish off the silver? <Lisl> ::chuckling:: Rhys, do you mind if I spill just a drop? I'll put it out right away, I promise.... <Marten> ::looks nervous:: Put it out? <Rhys> Just be careful, Lisl. Go ahead. * Rhys gets a polishing rag out from his apron pockets. <Lisl> ::smiling at Marten as she turns on her barstool, dips her finger carefully into her mug, and shakes her finger dry onto the floor of the Hall. The droplet of liquid hits the floor with explosive force, starting a small fire in the old wood immediately. Lisl gets up and stamps it out quickly.:: That's why we don't spill 'kick. <Marten> ::jumps as the drop hits the floor and then again at Lisl's stomping:: Dear Gods! And you drink that?!? <Lisl> ::licking her finger, and taking a sip from her mug:: Yup. It's tasty. Actually, it tastes awful, but I'm used to it. <Marten> ::shaking his head in disbelief:: Why would anyone torture themselves with such a foul concoction? * Rhys gets down on the floor by the scorch mark and begins to rub vigorously at the floor with his rag. Slowly, the charred spot gets smaller, and in half a minute has vanished completely. <Lisl> ::shrugging a shoulder:: What, can't a body drink to relax anymore? I used to stick to dwarven spirits, but this is stronger. <Marten> ::amazed:: Stronger. I'd imagine so. I'd think that drinking paint thinner would appeal to you, too, then? <Lisl> ::wrinkles her nose:: It tastes awful, and there's no kick whatsoever. ::looking somewhat abashed:: In my younger and foolish days, I used to drink all kinds of things, trying to find something that would make me drunk. ::hefting her mug:: My searches are over. <Marten> ::laugh:: Something to make you drunk?!? The ale here is good and strong, milady; have you tried that, or do you stick strictly to things that could kill you if handled improper... ::he gets quiet for a moment:: <Lisl> ::raises both eyebrows:: You were saying, m'lord? <Marten> ::looks at Lisl suspiciously:: /Make/ you drunk? Isn't that what you said? <Lisl> Aye. Regular ale is like drinking water. Well...flavored water. * Marten starts getting anxious. He adjusts in his seat, and looks at Lisl. "Anything weaker, then..." <Lisl> ::leaning an elbow on the bar, the picture of ease:: Doesn't do anything for me, no. <Lisl> Are you beginning to understand, now, why I don't speak openly of my...clan? <Marten> ::looks at Lisl, concerned:: What are you, then? I've met dwarves who would drop unconscious at a swallow of this, and you drink it like t'were water... <Lisl> And why it disconcerted me so to see you near-mortally injured? <Lisl> Well, actually, Drachnaerbaen can drink a good half-mug before it hits him.... <Marten> ::stands, obviously shaken:: No, I'm not understanding. Are ye of the undead, lass? <Marten> ::waves his hand, dismissively:: Don't joke lass, not now! What is wrong with ye?!? <Lisl> ::with a bark of laughter:: No, not at all. I've knocked at death's door a time or two, but she wouldn't have me. ::shaking my head:: There's nothing wrong with me. This is how I am, how I've always been. <Marten> ::shakes his head:: It's not natural. It's not... ::quietly:: ...human, at least. <Lisl> ::flicking a finger against the tip of her softly pointed ear:: I never claimed to be human. Half-elven, actually. But yes, my constitution is part of my heritage...the heritage I share with Moon Dancer. <Marten> Heritage? Clans? Milady, you're doing a good job at masking the truth, but I think the time for coy words and subterfuge is long past. <Marten> ::looks at Lisl intently:: What. Are. You. * Rhys tucks his rag back into his apron pocket. <Lisl> ::Seriously:: Aye, it is. But it's no subterfuge...::looking you in the eyes:: I would never hurt you, but please, promise me that this will not go beyond this room. <Marten> ::nods, slowly:: Aye. It will not leave this room by my mouth. <Lisl> The danger isn't to you, but to me. I take a great risk at showing you this.... <Lisl> By your mouth, or by any other means available to you. Please, this is important. <Marten> ::nods his head, quickly:: Of course. No one will discover your secret from me, by word, deed, action or thought. Now, please... <Lisl> ::nods slowly, eyes closed, taking in a slow breath and releasing it...when she opens her eyes again, they have changed from slate grey to bright yellow:: <Marten> ::slightly taken aback, more from the anti-climatic nature of the reveal:: Is that it? Your eyes can change color? Cantrips? Appearance spells? * Lisl keeps her eyes on Marten's as her face and body shift and blur...her silver hair grows longer, and spreads down her back, her arms, her face...in moments, Marten is looking into the eyes of a huge silver wolf. <Lisl> ::the wolf blinks its eyes...eyes identical to the woman's...and the process reverses, until a woman stands in front of him again:: <Marten> ::Marten is forming another sentence as Lisl completes her transformation, but stops, mouth gaping open. He stares at Lisl as she shifts, and twitches:: I... I... ::he tries to get out a sentence, but instead his arm twitches, and he stands quickly, hands going to the back of his chair:: <Rhys> Marten? <Marten> No! NO! It cannot be...! <Lisl> ::quietly, not moving lest she startle him:: It is. Moon Dancer and I...we're both werewolves, and have been since birth. * Marten lifts the chair and throws it, hard, at Lisl in one fluid motion. He starts to spin on his heel, and starts moving toward the door, hands reaching for another chair:: * Rhys quickly shouts a word, and the chair bounces off an invisible barrier about a foot from Lisl. He snaps a second word, and Marten's flight is abruptly halted, and he is encased in a crawling grey aura. * Rhys stands, an irritable look on his face. <Lisl> ::sighs heavily:: I was afraid that was going to happen. * Rhys picks up the chair and sets it back in its legs. <Lisl> ::looking at the encased Marten:: Can he hear me, like that? <Rhys> It wasn't a typical, peasant, the wolf is here to eat me reaction, though. Something else... <Rhys> Hmmm? Oh, no. Timestop is a rather garishly common spell, but it's what I had on hand. He'll be like that for a bit. * Marten doesn't move, talk, twitch or anything. He's just a nice Marten-shaped statue, for the time being. <Lisl> ::irritably:: Of course it was something else. Reaching for his klaive? ::clenching a hand on the chair that was so recently pitched at her, which shows cracks suddenly:: Dammit! If only I knew better how Moon Dancer...worked. He's not like my, Rhys...same, but different. <Rhys> No no no... What did he say... "It cannot be"? And he was running away, not attacking. ::sighs:: I am really starting to get curious about this brotherhood he's mentioned. <Lisl> ::noticing her grip on the chair, and easing up a little:: Well, I'm *used* to the running away reaction, at least. ::shakes her head:: That bothers you, too, hmm? You know, I don't know if he's realized it, but he doesn't even have his *own* story straight about them... <Lisl> First he said that the monks found him with naught but his klaive, his clothes, and a few papers identifying him...then, he said that a pupil had knocked him unconscious, and he woke up in the monks' care. * Rhys has focused on a distant point, and is muttering quietly to himself. "Cannot be... cannot be... cannot be what? Cannot be... possible? Cannot be... real? Hmmmm..." <Rhys> I didn't hear the story about being found unconscious. I was off the night he first arrived. <Lisl> ::shrugging a shoulder:: People usually find my existence a little hard to take...tho' most of them start doing silly things like fainting, or throwing things at me...::making a face:: <Lisl> That part, at least, he got right. <Lisl> ::pulling up the chair and sitting on it backwards:: But I never thought I'd see that look on *Moon Dancer's* face.... <Rhys> ::re-focusing:: Lisl, I know this is hard, but realize that, for all intents and purposes, it *isn't* Moon Dancer right now. Think of him like a long-lost twin, or something. It looks like him, talks like him, moves like him, but it doesn't think like he does. * Rhys looks over at the frozen Marten. "Speaking of which, we only have another five minutes or so to decide what to do with him." <Lisl> ::looking up at Marten's frozen form:: I won't hurt him. And he *did* swear. <Lisl> ::thinking:: And that's the thing...he *does* think like Moon Dancer does...when he's not thinking about it. I'm sure he's in there somewhere, but I don't know how to get to him! <Rhys> Well, let me just try to arrange things so we get a few words in edgewise before our guest bolts out of the door like his pants are on fire. <Lisl> ::looking doubtful:: I could grab him by the collar, if the spell allows me to touch him...but I think that would lead to hurting him. * Rhys walks over to the door and begins to run his fingers around the doorframe, murmuring all the while. He steps back after a minute or so. "There. Now we'll just wait for him to come out of it, and I think we'll work towards a resolution of sorts." <Lisl> Sure he won't try to go out the window? <Rhys> No need, dear. I'll just get back to where *I* was when I cast the spell, and if you get back about to where you were, he'll never notice the missing time. <Lisl> ::sighing and putting the chair back in its place, moving back a pace or two and crossing her arms:: * Rhys grins. "If he tries that he'll bounce. Little something I rigged up after that vampire that smuggled its way on here with Lady Nightstorm a few months ago." <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: Rhys, you're a wonder. * Rhys smiles. "I try to be handy." <Lisl> ::snorts, and turns her eyes back to the Marten statue, waiting:: <Marten> ::Marten, suddenly, reanimates and reaches for the next chair. It flies in Lisl's direction, hastily aimed, and Marten speeds toward the Hall's front door:: <Lisl> ::Lisl reaches out an arm to grab the chair in mid-air, casually setting it down:: <Marten> ::Two more chairs fly at Lisl as Marten moves toward the door, but as he gets close, he squints at it, and slows:: <Rhys> Marten, you have a promise to keep. <Lisl> ::steps to the side, catching one chair as it goes past and setting it upside-down over the first, grabbing the next, standing it upright, and sitting on it backwards, as she was before:: * Marten spins, and draws his klaive. He speaks to the room in toto, voice deep and gruff. "I'll not be kept against my will, sorcerer." <Rhys> Rhys's voice is even and calm. "Do you remember the promise you made?" * Marten looks left and right, glancing up the stairs, and then back at the kitchen and office doors. <Lisl> ::quietly, from where she sits, tense, but at rest:: Marten, look at me. <Marten> ::half-spitting the words:: Aye, I remember. ::he looks at Lisl, careful not to let her out of his sight:: <Lisl> I did nothing to force that promise from you...and as I swore, I'll do nothing to harm you. You've no need to fear me just because of what I am. ::her voice trembling a little:: I'm not cursed. <Marten> ::looks at Lisl, fire in his eyes:: Cursed? CURSED?!? You try to talk reason to me now, huntress? I will NOT go so easily, damn you! <Lisl> ::calmly:: I've never tried to talk anything to you but reason. And I'm not asking you to go anywhere. ::holding her hands out from her sides as she sits, showing her lack of weaponry:: <Marten> ::looks at Rhys, then Lisl, and then finally the stairs to the upstairs rooms:: I'll not go back, damn you! ::he turns and sprints up the stairs:: * Rhys spits an oath. <Lisl> Marten, please! ::half-standing as she calls out:: Go *where*? * Rhys looks at Lisl. "Something in his room?" <Marten> ::from upstairs, there is the sound of a loud, booming crash, then the sound of glass shattering, followed by a thud in the alleyway:: <Lisl> ::dropping heavily back into the chair:: Or seeking another means of escape. ::shaking her head:: It doesn't matter anymore, Rhys...just...just let him go. ::putting a hand to her head as tears fill her eyes:: <Marten> ::footsteps are heard quickly sprinting down the alleyway, off into the late afternoon:: * Rhys goes over to Lisl, and embraces her tightly. "It always matters, Lisl. Even when you don't want it to." <Lisl> ::sniffing, trying hard not to bawl on Rhys's shoulder as tears drip down her cheeks and onto his sleeve, standing stiffly in his arms:: It's not Moon Dancer. It can't be. 'Dancer would never...hate me. <Rhys> It's not him. Something's happened while he was gone. We'll get Moon Dancer back. And he'll apologize. Because if he doesn't, he'll spend a few weeks as a radish. <Lisl> ::short laugh, through her tears:: I said I wouldn't harm him, Rhys...I can't let you turn him into a vegetable. ::returning his hug with a squeeze that nearly takes his breath away:: Thank you. * Rhys creaks a little with the squeeze, but doesn't break. "You're welcome. Anytime you want to talk, you know... I'm happy to listen. Just drop by." <Lisl> ::Letting him go and wiping her face on her sleeve:: Thanks. ::pausing, and looking up the steps:: I don't think he'll be back, though...I just hope he doesn't go running straight to his masters about me... <Marten> [Master! Master! I need a brain for the Master!] <Lisl> [SLAP] * Rhys lays a hand on the bartop, gently running his fingers along the pattern of the grain. "He'll come back. Don't worry about that." <Lisl> ::picking up her mug and taking a long drink, her eyes yellow again when she puts it down:: How can you be so sure of that? He was badly frightened...he'll never want to see me again! <Rhys> This place... calls to him. It draws him to it. It's like an itch in a part of his mind he didn't even know he had. I could tell just by watching him move around the room, pouring drinks from the taps. He'll come back because he won't be able to forget about it until he figures out what it is about this place that entices him back. <Lisl> ::sighs, and looks around the room, her eyes coming to rest for a moment on Sealgair's swords:: Maybe you're right, Rhys...but no matter what comes, I think I've lost him for good. <Rhys> No... ::begins to lightly drum his fingers on the bar:: His panic wasn't natural. Almost induced. In any case, it wasn't from surprise at never having seen a lupus lycanthrope before. More like... recognition. <Lisl> ::taking another long swig, crawling onto a bar stool:: I asked him to look into my eyes once before...my *wolf* eyes, to see if he recognized it, or flinched the way most people do. ::Glumly resting her chin on the counter:: He didn't recognize me, but he didn't flinch, either. <Rhys> Just the yellow eyes may not have been enough of a trigger. If he has been conditioned, they may have made things rather specific, to avoid a false positive reaction. But that's just a theory. <Lisl> ::raising an eyebrow:: Rhys, come here a moment, and let me show you what he was looking at...::crooking a finger as she leans on the counter:: * Rhys obligingly leans over to look into Lisl's eyes. * Lisl blinks her eyes...in an instant, they change from grey to fiery gold, with a hint of something...odd...about the pupils. Lisl looks him squarely in the eye. * Rhys hunches his shoulders a little. "Well... I don't know." ::he leans back and sighs:: I wish I knew more about what was going on in his head. Or where he's been. Or what this brotherhood is all about. <Lisl> ::blinks again, leaning back and taking another sip of 'kick:: I'm rather desperate to know about the brotherhood...::shaking her head:: Secret societies make me nervous. ::snorting:: Jaret aside. <Rhys> If I were a less ethical person, I would just track Marten down and backtrack through his murky memories until I found the things that I would like to know. However, I don't think that I could bring myself to stoop there. <Rhys> However, I do believe that I am within my rights as the ad hoc proprietor of the Hall to inspect the contents of his room, seeing as he just destroyed some of the Hall's property. <Lisl> ::looking up:: Zoya took a peek in his mind, when she was healing him...she said there wasn't any sign of tampering. ::shaking her head:: It's not exactly my field, though. <Rhys> It's not mine, either, but in desperate times... ::sets his shoulders:: Things aren't that desperate. Not yet, anyway. <Lisl> I know I haven't worked here in some time, but may I...look with you? In his room, I mean? <Lisl> ::sounding FAR more tentative than her usual self:: * Rhys stands up. "Please. You can be the witness that I don't pocket any of the otherworldly riches I may find." <Lisl> ::snorting a little:: He says he's not *from* another world...and if he's a monk, I don't think you have much to worry about. * Rhys heads up the stairs to the room Marten's been staying in, produces a key from his pocket, unlocks the door, and lets himself in. <Lisl> ::raising an eyebrow, perhaps a little surprised to see Rhys use something so mundane as a key:: ::As Rhys enters Marten's room, he almost checks to make sure he's entered the right room. Everything in the room is spotless; the bed is made perfectly, sheets flat and looking barely slept in, the floor and dresser spotless:: * Rhys checks the dresser and under the bed for any belongings Marten might have left behind. <Rhys> ::aside to Lisl:: Not to pry, but do you smell anything? <Lisl> ::frowning, as she peers in over Rhys's shoulder:: It's...like he doesn't exist. <Lisl> Well...::stepping into the room:: He's *been* here, at least. ::indicating the window:: ::Underneath Marten's bed, Rhys finds a second pair of well-worn shoes, and a parcel of groceries, neatly tied:: <Lisl> ::taking a deep breath:: He's been here. Stayed here. ::shakes her head:: But there's nothing out of the ordinary...other than that there's nothing here. * Rhys methodically unties the grocery bundle and spreads the contents out on the bedspread. <Lisl> Herbs, he said, to promote healing...::frowns a little:: And he knew the name of the stimulant, in Mist...I don't know if that was a Moon Dancer memory, or if he's had training as an herbalist... ::inside the bundle, there are a few assorted, dried herbs, a small loaf of bread, and some dried fruit:: <Lisl> ::frown deepening:: Rhys, did he take his meals here at the Hall? * Rhys begins repacking the grocery bundle. "Not usually, but when he did eat here, it was downstairs in the main room." ::the only other things of minor note are two changes of clothes, one looking rather road-worn:: <Lisl> There's no meat...not even nuts. That can't be healthy, and Moon Dancer was...ahem...especially fond of meat. * Rhys looks over the clothes, and studies the cut of the worn set especially closely. <Rhys> These... these aren't like anything around here. I've seen a similar design somewhere before... but I can't quite remember where. <Lisl> He said something about...since coming to Faerun. He's *definitely* not from around here. * Rhys refolds the clothes and puts them back in their place. <Rhys> Well, no good clues, but no bad news items either. Call it a draw, I guess. <Lisl> ::Bending close to the clothes drawer, as Rhys puts each set away:: He's been around Marsember quite a bit...the docks, the market...::shakes her head:: Everything else...he's been traveling a lot. There's too much overlay to tell. <Rhys> Well, I'm all for calling it a day then. <Lisl> Give me one more moment...::stalking around the room, looking for something, anything with a clue to Marten's past:: <Rhys> Of course. ::leans against the doorframe:: * Lisl shifts, and, in the space of a few heartbeats, there's a large wolf prowling the room, working its way over to the window, heedless of the shattered glass. * Lisl pauses at the window, staying below line of sight from the street, and in another few moments, Lisl the woman is kneeling in the shattered glass fragments, staring closely at a jagged edge of pane. <Rhys> What is it? * Lisl leans closer, and sticks her tongue out delicately to lick the edge of the glass. "Ow." <Lisl> ::standing up, brushing glass from her knees:: Well, he definitely went out through here...he cut himself on the glass. Hmph. Clumsy. ::looking up at the ceiling as she savors the taste in her mouth:: * Rhys looks at the shattered door and the fragments of glass remaining in the window frame. "You do say.." <Lisl> There's no doubt...it's Moon Dancer. Even his identical twin wouldn't taste exactly the same. <Rhys> Do you have what you wanted then? <Lisl> ::shooting Rhys a dirty look:: I know what you mean...I was looking for the blood, though. ::shaking her head:: If I had what I wanted, I'd know where he came from. But I have all I can find here. <Rhys> Okay. I'll clean up then. ::pauses:: If you'd like... I was preparing a roast in the kitchen while you arrived. Would you like to stay for dinner? <Lisl> ::smiling, her shoulders relaxing a little from an afternoon of tenseness:: I've been smelling that all afternoon...I thought you'd never ask. <Rhys> I'll be down in a bit. <Lisl> ::nodding:: Right. ::grinning:: I'll just go down and...y'know...carve. <Lisl> ::departs for downstairs:: |
|
|