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* Michelle unlocks the front door, "Hall's Open!" * Michelle returns behind the bar. She's dressed in a tartan skirt and red sweater. Her hair has been done up in braids. * Zoya enters, looking somewhat tired, and seats herself at the bar. "Cider, if you please, Michelle." * Jaret enters. He is dressed in deep blues with white edgings. He doffs his plumed hat as he enters the Hall. He is wearing his rapier on his left hip, and on his right, in a new sheath, is Moon Dancer's klaive. * Michelle pours Zoya a mug of cider and sets it on the bar in front of her, "Working hard Zoya?" <Jaret> Well met, Michelle. A goblet of Arabellan Red, if you please. * Michelle pours Jaret a glass of wine and leaves the glass and the bottle on the bar, "I see you were successful in your endeavor at least." * Jaret walks over to Zoya, and puts an eccentric device on the bar at her side. "Thank you very much for the use of this, Zoya. I would not have found Moon Dancer's klaive without it." * Zoya takes a deep draught of cider. "Yes. I've been trying to research the possible causes for Marten's - Moon Dancer's problem." <Zoya> ::smiles at Jaret:: So you *did* find it! Excellent! Did it work the way it was supposed to? <Michelle> Any luck? <Jaret> Yes, Michelle, although I was almost too late. The blacksmith the traveling merchant had sold the klaive to was about to melt it down to make jewelry out of it. I had to catch it before he dropped it into the smelting forge. <Jaret> Yes, Zoya, it did. Wonderfully. Although it developed the most unusual shudder an hour or so before sunset every day. * Lisl enters, yawning hugely and stretching, making her bones crackle and pop like popcorn. <Zoya> Before sunset? Really? How unusual. ::picks up her device and begins turning it over in her hands:: <Zoya> Lisl! How are you this evening? * Jaret toasts Lisl's entrance. "Well met, Lady Lisl!" <Lisl> Ahhh....well enough, though I slept little. Michelle, might I have a mug of 'kick? * Michelle carefully pours the unnatural drink and sets it on the bar for Lisl, "There you go." <Lisl> ["unnatural"? ::grin::] Thanks. ::stepping to the bar and picking up her mug for a long swallow:: Whoo...I needed that. <Jaret> Long week? * Marten walks into the bar, fingers wrapped in small pieces of cloth. He walks over to the bar, and nods at Michelle. "Barkeep, a mug of the... what is it called, now?" <Lisl> ::putting her mug down:: You have *no* idea. My mother may be good at digging around in dusty tomes, but it's not for me.::rubbing her face with one hand:: I'd be better off reading the entrails, at the rate I'm going. * Zoya looks curiously at Marten's fingers. "What's that for?" <Michelle> Whatever you call it, we probably have it. ::Michelle smiles:: * Jaret drinks some of his wine. <Marten> ::looks over at Zoya:: Hmm? * Stranger walks into the bar. She is a short human woman with long blonde hair and a jagged scar down on cheek. <Zoya> ::holds up one hand and wiggles her fingers:: <Marten> ::looks confusedly at Zoya, then at his hands:: Oh! These. Well, I decided to put myself to work. <Zoya> And...? <Lisl> ::raising an eyebrow:: Let me guess...darning? <Marten> ::turns back to Michelle:: You know, the... ::scrunches his face up:: <Lisl> ::glancing at the stranger and nodding politely, studying her for a moment:: * Stranger walks over and sits at the bar. <Marten> ::back to Zoya:: Well, I took a job as an apprentice to Harl Galten, the bowyer. I'm doing some fletching work for him, and resuming my bowyer training. <Marten> ::looks back at Michelle, and picks up a mug:: Oh, Gods.*This* stuff! ::reaches around the taps to fill his mug with some Mist:: <Zoya> ::looks somewhat bemused:: Yes? So is that protection for out-of-training fingers, or bindings for blisters? <Michelle> Can I get you anything to drink stranger? * Stranger smiles cheerfully. <Stranger> Very very cheap red wine, please. ::lays a tiny copper coin on the bar:: <Marten> ::smiles at Zoya, and laughs:: Both, I'm afraid. I may still have the skill, but it is definitely out of practice. * Jaret makes a tiny face, and then turns to the stranger."Lady, if you wish, you may partake of this bottle with me." * Michelle sets a glass on the bar in front of the stranger, then waits to see how she reacts to Jaret's offer. <Stranger> I thank you for your kindness, but really, I wouldn't dream of it. ::turns to Michelle:: Cheap red wine... and a towel, if you have one <Lisl> ::looks again at the stranger with a small smile, and back to Jaret:: I think that'd be a waste of wine, Jaret. * Jaret gets a small smile and looks at Lisl. "I suspect you're right, my insightful friend." <Michelle> Just a moment, "Michelle goes into the kitchen." * Zoya looks quizzical, then takes a sip of cider, studying the newcomer over the mug's rim. * Stranger reaches up and tugs on her ear. A moment later, the top of the ear comes off, revealing a folded tip. * Michelle returns from the kitchen with a large jug and fills the strangers glass, setting the jug on the floor behind the bar. <Lisl> ::rubs her chin:: By the way, Jaret...have you heard anymore from those...individuals who approached you earlier? * Marten drinks nearly half his mug of Mist, then proceeds to look around the bar. His eyes stop on Jaret, and flow down to his new scabbard. "Milord Malkier. I see you've taken a second weapon." <Jaret> No, Lisl, I haven't. Although I just got back into Marsember late this afternoon. <Stranger> Towel? <Jaret> Yes, Marten, I have. Only until it's original owner asks for it back. * Stranger snaps the other ear cap off * Zoya puts her mug on the bar and stares, astonished, at the stranger. <Marten> ::nods:: I see. It seems to suit you more than others, I think. * Michelle blushes, "Oh I forgot." Disappears back into the kitchen. <Lisl> ::chuckling at Zoya's astonishment:: Michelle, could you pour a...rum and soda, please? * Zoya laughs suddenly. "Rum and *ice*. * Jaret looks down at the broad, hefty klaive, and the slim, light rapier. "I'm learning that each has their best use." <Marten> ::nods, sipping his Mist:: The same holds true with people, too. I think I'm starting to find my best use here in Marsember. <Jaret> Oh? And what might that be? * Michelle returns with a towel and hands it to the stranger. * Stranger takes a small sip of the wine, winces and splashes her face with the rest of the glass. Smoke begins to rise as her nose falls off. The smoke is light green in color and smells exceedingly odd. <Lisl> ::grinning a little:: I'd guess you don't use that makeup when you're planning to be a drunk as cover? * Tyl wipes her face and underneath is Tyl's visage. She grins at Lisl <Marten> ::smiles:: I seem to have a calling for being a bowyer. As much as my fingers regret it, I have a knack for it. <Marten> ::shrugs:: At least, it pays for my room and board while I stay in Marsember. <Tyl> Nope. Lady Shanda doesn't drink. She's sort of religious that way... ::removes the blonde wig to reveal her short black locks:: <Lisl> ::smiling back at Tyl:: Good one...I didn't recognize you when you first came in. The scent's a dead giveaway, though. ::looking troubled momentarily, and glancing at Marten:: Well...most of the time, anyway. <Tyl> ::shakes her head:: I can't do anything about the smell, I don't think. But then how often does one run into... people of your nature? ::winks:: Oh, hi Moon Dancer. Aside from the hall, that is... * Michelle suddenly lights up as an idea strikes her, "Tyl, could I talk to you in the kitchen for a few moment?" <Zoya> ::grins a greeting at Tyl and has another sip of cider::Marten, did you go see any of those clerics? <Marten> ::looks at Tyl:: Milady, although I may look like him, I am not, in fact, Moon Dancer. <Lisl> ::glancing over at Jaret:: More often than even I would expect, it seems.... <Tyl> ::gives a quick look at MD/Marten:: Wow... how'd you do that? I have clients who'd pay a fortune for that accurate a disguise... <Marten> ::looks over at Zoya, smiling:: Clerics? No, not yet unfortunately. I've been tending to the basics of life in Marsember presently. I do plan on going to see them, however. * Jaret blandly returns Lisl's glance and sips some wine. <Zoya> ::shakes a finger at him, mock-stern:: See that you do! <Marten> ::laughs:: Milady Zoya, if I did not know better, I would mistake you for my mother. At least, in terms of your insistence in worrying over my health. <Zoya> ::shrugs and laughs somewhat self-consciously:: Those who care, worry. ::she sounds like she's quoting someone:: <Lisl> ::taking another sip of 'kick:: Better listen to her, Marten, she's far worse than any mother you could ever imagine... <Zoya> ::grins at Lisl:: * Tyl turns to Michelle... "Sure thing. While we're in there, you mind if I eat? It's been a few days between meals here recently. Lady Shanda was fasting. I pick the worst weeks..." <Michelle> Certainly Tyl'gainia. ::Michelle heads into the kitchen, holding the door for Tyl.:: * Tyl follows Michelle into the kitchen <Marten> ::looks at Lisl:: Indeed. I am trying to keep an eye on her, and watch that she doesn't take her self-appointed job too seriously. * Jaret has another sip of his wine. <Zoya> ::looks ever-so-slightly offended:: <Lisl> ::putting down her mug and grinning broadly:: Oh, is*that* why you're keeping an eye on her. Glad you set me straight on that. <Marten> ::turns to look at Zoya:: Come now, milady. What do you expect me to do? I am, after all, a grown man. I can take care of myself. * Jaret frowns into his wine. * Lisl has a sudden coughing fit. <Marten> ::blushing slightly, he turns to Lisl:: Pardon? Are you insinuating something? <Zoya> ::laughs:: You're a grown man missing most of your memory. I'll grant you can take care of yourself for day-to-day items, but mysterious forbears require watching. ::smiles:: <Lisl> ::clearing her throat and recovering her grin, tracing the rim of her mug with her finger:: Insinuating? Me? Why, whatever could I be insinuating? ::opening her eyes wide, reminding all very strongly of the wolf in sheep's clothing:: <Marten> ::shakes his head:: Of course, I must have been mistaken. <Lisl> Why Master Tenbones, I do believe you're blushing.... <Marten> ::laughs:: Am I? With the insinuation and innuendo flying about the bar, I can't imagine why. <Lisl> ::chuckling and giving the defiantly clueless Zoya a glance before raising her mug again:: * Zoya looks somewhat confused, shrugs, and looks down at the gadget in her hands, examining it. <Marten> ::looks at the gadget in Zoya's hands:: What does that do, milady? It looks like... like... ::he pauses, confused:: Well, I'm not quite sure what it looks like. <Lisl> ::narrowing her eyes a little:: Does the word "compass"ring a bell? <Marten> ::eyes widen slightly:: That is the compass you mentioned a week prior? <Zoya> ::smiles:: Now, Lisl, you have to admit, it doesn't*really* look that much like a compass. ::holds it up for Marten to see::It is, indeed, the compass I constructed for Jaret to use in locating the klaive. <Marten> ::frowns:: An odd contraption. I assume, since Milord Malkier seems to have been successful, that it worked? <Jaret> Yes, it was. As I told Zoya, it functioned remarkably well. <Zoya> He says that it did, apart from some minor twitches. I was going to dismantle it right away, but I want to analyze the behavior he reported. <Marten> ::nods:: Well, then. I'm happy for you. For both of you. <Marten> ::shakes his head:: I've never had the head for magery, I'm afraid. * Jaret mumble something indistinct into his glass. <Lisl> A glitch? In one of *your* devices? ::frowning a little:: What did it do? * Michelle opens the door to the kitchen and holds it for Tyl. * Tyl grabs about four pieces of cheese and some more bread and sort of juggles it over onto the bar. <Zoya> ::grins at Lisl:: According to Lord Malkier, here, it gets a bit shuddery just before sunset. I'm fairly certain I know what it is, but I'll need to wait until it happens tomorrow to be sure. <Jaret> I wouldn't call it a *glitch*. It didn't impede its functionality any. It's more of a quirk. <Lisl> ::frown deepening:: At dusk? Odd.... <Marten> ::looks at Zoya:: Well, if I can be of any help... ::he lets the sentence trail off, sipping his Mist:: <Zoya> ::shrugs:: It's not really odd, if you consider that the luminance trail is crossing the time trail at the juxtaposition of...::wanders off into a babble of magetalk:: <Lisl> ::turning to Marten with a smile:: You could be a *great*help to me. I've had the worst time trying to figure out where you came from. <Michelle> I could be wrong, but I think what Zoya's trying to say is that the moon rises. <Marten> ::looks at Lisl coyly:: Oh? You've been trying to surmise where I came from? Why didn't you just ask? <Zoya> ::blinks at Michelle:: Oh, no, it's not connected with the moon! It's got to do with the rotation of the primary sphere in conjunction with the shifting of the tertiary movement! Moonrise is the tertiary sphere interacting with the *fourth* movement! <Lisl> ::giving Marten a disgusted look:: I *did* ask. Twice. And you're *still* answering a question with a question. <Michelle> Zoya, one of these days I'm going to introduce you to this little concept called an ellipse. <Zoya> ::looks very offended:: I know what an ellipse is, thank you. <Michelle> Good, then I'll be able to jump straight into Kepler's Laws of Planetary Motion. <Tyl> Anyway... Brother Marten... Nice to meet you, by the way::takes a huge bite of cheese:: My name's Tyl'gainia Nightstorm and I'm a psionic. Or, as some people like to call it, a mind bender. Michelle has inquired as to whether or not I might be able to verify some things...would you mind terribly if I peeked into your head for a bit? <Zoya> What do planets have to do with it? <Marten> ::laughs, and coughs after almost swallowing his Mist in the windpipe:: I... I'm sorry, Lisl. I do not mean to be so difficult. What do you need to know? <Zoya> ::glances at Tyl and Marten, starts to say something, then backs away a bit.:: * Michelle puts her face in her hands and whimpers. <Marten> ::looks at Tyl, confused:: Pardon? <Tyl> :: takes another bite of bread and uses the remaining chunk to gesture with:: I can, if you will allow me, read your mind, scan your memories... see if there's anything missing... that sort of thing. It doesn't hurt. ::makes a slight twitchy mouth:: <Lisl> ::shakes her head, throwing up her hands:: There he goes again....::taking a deep draught of 'kick:: Nearly four hundred years of sobriety, and he's going to turn me into an alcoholic inside a month... <Marten> ::looks fairly uncomfortable:: Honestly, milady, I'm not entirely sure I approve. There are things... We are not often wont to share our thoughts with others, I should say. <Tyl> If it makes you feel any more secure about it, I can't hold the memories. Within a few days, it all fades away. <Tyl> And, as the only teacher of psionics in this city, I hold confidences. I had enough trouble with all the sticky-wicket mages getting my school started in the first place. I'm not planning on losing it. <Marten> ::shakes his head:: It only takes a few days, milady. I mean no offense, but I barely know you. Opinions of the other gentlepersons here, I don't know if you can be trusted. * Zoya watches the conversation between Tyl and Marten with interest. From a discreet distance. <Tyl> ::laughs:: Of course I can't be *trusted*... I'm a guild member. But that doesn't mean that I tell lies. Or spread stories. <Marten> ::still uneasy, and growing more so:: My concerns exactly. It doesn't mean you spread stories. It also doesn't mean you don't. <Tyl> No one can be trusted, actually. All beings in this world operate out of nothing more than enlightened self-interest. My interest is in aiding my friends, not telling your story to random strangers. On the other hand, I understand your concern. However, I could do it without your permission and you would never know. I think it speaks for itself that I'm not. <Lisl> ::stepping forward and looking from Marten to Tyl to Zoya and back to Marten:: It's alright, Marten, if you don't want to...but it may be a way for you to recover your memory. <Marten> ::nods:: It does. It speaks volumes. Of course, I also don't know that you have not, in fact, used our conversation to bring to my mind that which you most want to know. <Michelle> ::To Lisl:: Suspicious group of monks aren't they. * Tyl continues to eat, looking over her food at Marten with calm, confident eyes <Marten> ::looks at Michelle:: Suspicious? We prefer cautious. * Michelle pours a rum and ice and sets it on the bar in front of Tyl. <Lisl> ::shakes her head and takes another long swallow of 'kick, looking at Marten wide-eyed:: And I thought *I* was paranoid...I bow at the feet of the master. * Tyl takes a long swallow of rum. <Tyl> Thanks... <Zoya> ::chuckles:: You guys are nothing! I personally know a few old mages who still refuse to admit that psionics even *exists*! <Marten> ::looks at Tyl, then at Lisl:: Paranoia is just the voice in your head that keeps you out of trouble, Milady Ferinsdottir. <Tyl> I thought it was the voice that told you your cats were up to something... ::smiles:: * Michelle mutters something. <Marten> ::turns back to Tyl:: Considering that I could not prevent you from searching my mind, and considering that my refusal to allow you to is just stubbornness on my part... ::spreads his arms, resignedly:: You may do you deed. <Lisl> ::chuckling:: That's what I thought, until I met this lot. Sometimes my paranoia got me into worse trouble than it got me out of....::taking another long swallow:: Like making me live in the sewers on rats for three weeks... * Tyl gives Marten a long look. <Tyl> You're sure? * Zoya looks surprised, then leans forward slightly, eyes narrowed. <Marten> ::nods reluctantly:: I am in no position to resist, now am I? <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: That's not the point, Marten. <Zoya> Marten, you... ::looks around, then trails off, taking a deep drink of cider:: <Marten> ::looks at Lisl, slightly upset:: It is exactly the point, Lisl. <Lisl> Tyl's a good person...::grinning a little:: Well, mostly. Good people don't abuse their power just because the other is weaker. * Michelle shakes her head, "Wonderful reverse psychology." <Tyl> ::makes a face and finishes her rum:: I'm not a rapist. And I'm not going to do this without your permission. * Zoya is managing to look both curious and upset at the same time. <Marten> ::looks more and more annoyed:: You have my permission, for what it's worth. <Tyl> With that look, sweetheart, I'd say it's not worth much. Is it? ::turns her back on him:: <Tyl> Another rum, please Michelle. <Lisl> ::shooting Michelle a frown:: I have no idea what you just said, Michelle, but I sure I wouldn't like it. ::shaking her head::The *point* is that this is being done to *help* you. If you don't want to find out who you were, then...fine. * Michelle pours another drink for Tyl. <Michelle> I'll explain later Lisl. <Tyl> Thanks... <Marten> ::looks at Lisl:: I want to know what happened. Of course I do. But, first, I want to settle myself with who I am now. <Lisl> Marten, you've been *damned* evasive...is it simply reflex, or do you really not want to know? <Marten> ::sighs:: Reflex, yes. Caution, fear... the name for the feeling doesn't matter, does it? <Lisl> ::chuckling:: That could take a lifetime. I've not even settled that one, yet. <Michelle> Actually, being able to name things, particularly emotions, gives you a measure of control over them. * Zoya nods in agreement with Michelle. <Marten> ::looks at Michelle:: Control over your emotions can also come from controlling where they come from, by controlling who and what enter your life, can it not? <Michelle> No, that's letting your emotions control you. <Lisl> ::laughs:: The only way to do that is to lock yourself in your coffin now, Marten, and throw away the key. <Zoya> ::almost tonelessly:: The only way to completely do that is to always be alone - to never feel at all. <Marten> Or to simply be self-reliant. There is trust even among thieves, is there not? * Tyl makes a face * Zoya laughs shortly, glancing at Tyl. <Tyl> I hate that expression... we... They are not a completely different species, you know. <Zoya> But that's not true, Marten. If you let others into your life, then they can affect you, and you cannot always control *how* they affect you. * Jaret drinks some wine. <Lisl> ::snorts:: I can tell you from personal experience that*no one* can be that self-reliant. ::pointing at his clothes:: Who made those? Who grew the food you eat? ::raising an eyebrow:: Who brought you back to health when you were so ill? <Marten> ::shakes his head:: I was not implying as much. I was simply saying that, in a profession that does everything to discourage trust, trust still develops. It's a matter of whom you trust. <Marten> ::stares at Lisl for several moments before speaking::No. I suppose you can't. <Tyl> Actually the profession does everything it can to encourage trust, reliance on each other, and comradeship. It's safer that way. Your friend is less likely to stab you in the back than a complete stranger * Marten sits. He looks at Lisl, and then at Zoya. * Marten puts his head in his hand, and sighs. He looks up at. Lisl. "What... how can I help you find your friend?" * Zoya looks like she might protest, but gulps down the last of her cider instead. <Lisl> ::shakes her head and grins:: I'm not even sure that you can. But trying to find out what you've forgotten would be a start.::grinning wider:: And knowing where you *come* from, m'lord. <Marten> East. East of Cormyr and the Vast. <Lisl> ::nodding:: I suspected that, but news from Kara-Tur is cursedly hard to gather. Is that where you hail from? ::looking a little worried:: Or even farther east? <Marten> ::nods slowly, cautiously:: Aye. Kara-Tur. <Lisl> ::running a hand through her hair:: Damn. I wish Lion hadn't gone off adventuring again...he might've been able to help jog your memory. <Marten> ::frowns:: Who? <Lisl> Lion....that's his nickname. Boris "Lion" Kruth. He's a blind blacksmith... ::grinning:: ...among other things. <Tyl> I thought he was a not blind blacksmith more recently? <Marten> ::nods:: I've heard mention of him, about town. Several townsfolk have asked of him. <Michelle> If nothing else, Lion's at least been to Kara-Tur. He'd know what kind of questions to ask. <Lisl> ::nods:: Well, that too. But I'm still used to thinking of him the other way. <Zoya> ::nodding:: He did some work for me a while back. He's a master. <Jaret> ::quietly:: You were good friends. <Marten> ::looks at Jaret, and says in barely a whisper:: And, I hear, so were we. <Zoya> ::thoughtfully:: Didn't Lion belong to some sort of brotherhood out there? You don't suppose.. ::trails off, looking thoughtful:: <Jaret> Yes. Yes we were. <Michelle> I don't remember Lion being very tight lipped about them. Then again, we weren't asking nearly as pointed questions of Lion. Though if memory serves Lion came back in the brotherhood's robes, while Marten here...::Gestures to show Marten's clothes:: <Marten> ::looks at Zoya:: A blacksmith being a member of a brotherhood in Kara-Tur? It sounds quite odd, at the least. <Lisl> ::frowns in thought:: He told me of a master he learned from...and yes. I think you're right. ::scratching her head:: <Zoya> ::frowns:: I didn't know him as well as some of the others, but I think I'd heard he'd been... cast out? Only a couple of years ago, they reinstated him, and he went back. <Lisl> ::coughs:: From what I've read and who I've talked to so far, you don't exactly look like a native yourself, m'lord. * Marten sips his Mist, and looks at a nearly empty glass. He places the mug on the floor, and taps its rear. It saunters off toward the bar. <Lisl> A...disagreement between his master and the brotherhood, which Lion helped to rectify. So he said. <Marten> ::smiles:: A good observation, milady. I am not originally from the East. <Jaret> His master... his master was believed a murderer, and so they banished him and Lion, his pupil. Only lately was his master's innocence uncovered, and his remains allowed back to their monastery. * Zoya laughs shortly. "Far from it, I should think." <Marten> ::frowns, trying to remember:: Brother Tomas tried to explain to me where I was from, but it boiled down to a raiding party several generations ago. Apparently, my features only appear every few generations. * Jaret snorts quietly, and goes back to his wine. <Marten> ::looks at Jaret, frowns, and returns to looking at Zoya:: <Lisl> Marten...::looking hesitant, as if there's a subject she'd rather not bring up:: <Zoya> ::notices Marten looking at her, and raises an eyebrow:: Yes? <Marten> ::turns to Lisl:: Yes, milady? <Marten> ::turns back to Zoya momentarily:: Nothing, milady. My apologies. * Tyl looks at Marten looking at Zoya looking at Marten looking at Zoya... turns to Michelle <Tyl> Now I know how Maeli felt, I think. ::raises her glass in a toast:: I still miss that old woman. <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: There's something...odd about this. Everytime you mention how you came to your brotherhood, your tale has been different. Is it...are you still being cautious, or can you truly not remember? * Zoya looks like she'd very much like to say something, but is swallowing it. <Marten> ::sighs:: Honestly, milady, I can remember no further back than several months ago. I awoke in my room, in my bed. My brother stood over me, nursing me back to health. <Lisl> Hmm....the first time, you said that the monks had found you, a stranger, outside their walls, with nothing but your clothes, your klaive, and a few papers to identify you. Later, you said you'd been teaching a class, and been struck by an overly zealous student. And now, it's's as though you were born there...::shakes her head:: You know only what your brothers told you about yourself? <Marten> I... I remember waking up. I remember bits and pieces, disjointed memories. I remember teaching. I remember... <Lisl> ::breaking in:: You said you were ill, or injured. What do you remember of that? What did you sicken from? <Marten> No. I don't remember much. I took my brother's word for most things. I have tried to piece things together from that. * Tyl finishes off her rum and grabs another piece of bread. <Marten> ::shakes his head:: No, injured. Of that I am sure. My shoulder and head still ache, if the weather is right. <Lisl> Shoulder and head....::frowning in thought:: Did you scar? <Marten> No, I didn't. The brothers were surprised, considering the severity of my wound. They thought I might lose my arm. * Tyl digs around in her pocket for a minute and pulls out a silver coin. <Tyl> I have another appointment, so I'm going to be going. <Lisl> Someone nearly split you in two pieces, and you didn't scar? ::eyes narrowing:: <Michelle> Goodnight Tyl'gainia. Be careful. <Lisl> ::smiling:: Good night, Tyl. Sleep sweet. <Tyl> ::turns to Marten:: It was interesting meeting you. If you change your mind, drop by the school during the day and we'll talk * Zoya smiles at Tyl. "Good night. I'll see you soon." <Jaret> Well met, Tyl'gainia. You <Marten> Aye. It seemed odd to me as well, but I didn't research it more. <Jaret> You're welcome to share some wine with me when you return.::smiles:: * Tyl smiles at Jaret. <Tyl> Thanks... maybe I will. <Lisl> ::takes a sip of 'kick, still thinking:: * Tyl leaves the hall <Lisl> Do your students practice with live steel? <Marten> ::nods:: The more advanced classes, yes. <Lisl> And they don't pull their blows? <Marten> ::shakes his head:: No. It's a master's duty to exceed his students. If a student challenges his master, for advancement, then the live steel is put away. If a master falls in class... ::shrugs::That is the way of the world, then. The Will of the Gods. * Zoya looks interested. <Lisl> ::rubbing her chin:: Jaret, you teach the sword. How easy is it for a normal human to cleave someone's head and shoulder off? <Marten> With the right steel, it's quite simple. <Jaret> It depends on the blade they're using, and the head and shoulder they're striking. The more massive and sharp the blade, the easier it is. Still, there's a lot of bone and tendon to cleave through, and you have to draw the sword back and press in against the defender. <Lisl> "The right steel"? Does everyone in Kara-Tur use magical blades? <Marten> ::looks at Jaret, confused:: But, milord. With the proper blade, it is simple. And, like a butcher, you learn to navigate around the bones, tendons and ligaments. <Marten> ::incredulously:: Magical? Not at all. Just well forged. <Jaret> For the normal person, even armed with an optimal blade, it would be a feat. It depends on the training, also. * Jaret gestures at his rapier. "I usually don't practice butcher-like cleaving." <Marten> Of course not. But, the concepts are the same. By learning where the body naturally separates, it is far easier to help it along in that task if you so desire. <Jaret> *Easier*, yes. Easy, no. <Lisl> ::grins:: And I wouldn't say that the body "naturally"separates. "Falling to pieces" is just an expression, unless you're talking about a golem. <Marten> ::nods:: Agreed. <Marten> ::laughs:: It was an expression, milady. <Zoya> Lisl, what are you driving at? <Lisl> Well, that. ::pointing, gesturing a curved line from Marten's head to his armpit:: I find it rather hard to swallow that a student, however advanced, could make a cut like that by *accident*. <Marten> ::shakes his head:: Not by accident at all. It was intentional, surely. Students must practice the killing strike. As a teacher, you must be better than your students. <Zoya> ::eyes narrowed:: You still feel pain, and yet you have no scar? That's quite odd, don't you think? <Marten> No. Have you ever broken a limb, and had the limb itch when the weather changes? <Lisl> That seems like a waste...if the student is successful, the master's experience and knowledge are lost. If the master is successful, what's the point of practicing the killing strike? <Zoya> Yes, but in those cases - ask any chiurgeon or healer - there is actually a scar on the bone. <Marten> ::laughs:: Well, I have not examined the bones in My shoulder, milady. <Lisl> ::grins:: I don't think Marten wants us to flay him to the bone just so we can look at it. <Zoya> ::smiles:: And that, my dear Marten, is why I'd like you to see a healer. <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: Persistent, isn't she? <Michelle> I could examine his bones. <Marten> ::to Lisl:: My point. If the student fells the master, then the student can successfully replace the master. Otherwise, the master blocks the blow. It is practiced so that, when it must be used, there is no hesitation, no thought. It must flow naturally from you. <Zoya> ::grins at Lisl:: It takes years of training to learn to be this stubborn. <Marten> ::looks at Zoya, wryly:: You may take me at your leisure. <Marten> ::looks oddly at Michelle:: Really? How is that? <Lisl> ::doubles over, coughing hard:: <Michelle> The simplest explanation is magic, though I suspect Zoya could explain to me why my magic isn't really magic. <Zoya> ::smiles benignly at Michelle:: Of course your magic is really magic. It's just not the same magic as *my* magic. <Marten> Well, if you think it would help, you may examine My shoulder and head. At your leisure, of course. * Zoya mutters something under her breath, then looks around for the cider mug that, empty, has wandered off. <Lisl> ::shakes her head and takes a swig of 'kick:: <Marten> ::looks at Lisl:: Still, milady, I don't see where you're taking these questions. * Michelle comes out from behind the bar, "So what exactly am I looking for here, or do you want to do a controlled experiment and not tell me what you're expecting until I tell you what I've seen." * Marten chuckles. "I don't know what to expect. I'm not a chiurgeon by any stretch of the imagination..." * Jaret finishes off his wine. <Lisl> Look at the bones of his skull and shoulder...::grinning a little::...be careful, the skull bone's liable to be rather thick...and tell us if there's scarring. It looks a little like roughness on the smooth surface of the bone, or a pot that's been glued together badly. <Marten> ::looks at Lisl, smiling:: And evidently, you've had experience with chiurgeons? <Zoya> ::rolls her eyes upwards as if searching her memory::Dents or bumps in the bone and surrounding muscle tissue. Ligaments and fascia heal quite slowly, so they're even more likely to show scarring. <Lisl> Not personally, no. ::grinning a trifle wolfishly:: But I've seen a lot of bone. * Michelle raises her hand, a globe of soft white light appearing in it. "I've had a healers touch long enough to know what scarring looks like. I thought you might have been looking for something more." <Zoya> If you *find* something more, by all means tell us. I don't have any particular suspicions, though... Can you detect traces of old magic? <Marten> ::smiling:: Not unless you can extract memories from bones. <Jaret> Don't laugh so quickly. * Lisl lifts her head suddenly, her eyes widening. She gets up from her stool and moves away from Marten a bit, glancing back as if checking her position, frowning in thought:: Michelle, if you can, check the...left arm as well. Just scan it. * Michelle slowly passes the globe over Marten, half of the sphere disappearing into his body. After a few moments apparent searching she begins to trace a line down Marten's body from his head to his shoulder. * Zoya watches with interest. * Michelle finishes with the shoulder, the slowly scans the left arm as well. * Marten shifts uneasily in his chair. * Zoya smiles at him reassuringly. * Lisl watches intently. * Michelle returns to examining the right shoulder. * Jaret watches, somewhat detached. * Michelle finishes her scan and perches herself on a stool."Marten, what weapons did you train students in?" <Marten> ::frowns:: Sword, mostly. Both long and short, but long was my specialty. Why? <Michelle> And how often do the students practice with magical weapons? <Marten> ::looks almost offended:: Never. One's skills should be enough to sustain you. Magic is a marker, gives you away, acts as a beacon to those looking for you. <Lisl> ::raises both eyebrows and exchanges a glance with Zoya:: <Michelle> Then perhaps you can explain why your skull looks like someone took a mace to it, and why the blade that nearly cost you your arm had such a powerful enchantment that I'm still detecting residues of not only the enchantment, but the will of the individual who struck you. <Marten> ::looks at Michelle, confused:: No. No, I can't. Are you sure? <Lisl> ::opens her eyes wide:: <Michelle> As sure as I can be without reading the memories directly out of the wounds. * Zoya sighs softly. "Thank you, Michelle." <Jaret> Who struck him, Michelle. Give me any clues you've got. <Marten> How... odd. I'm not... <Marten> I'm not sure what to say to that, milady. <Lisl> ::quietly:: Was there anything in his arm, Michelle? <Marten> ::looks for his mug, but can't find it anywhere:: I... I think I am getting tired. * Michelle shakes her head at look sadly at Jaret, "That's all I know right now. I could read the memory from the bones, but it might cost him his sanity. I have a few other ideas that might restore his memory that are looking far more promising, but they'd all be much easier with his cooperation." <Zoya> ::stands up, suddenly:: That's enough for one night. * Jaret sighs. "I understand, Michelle. Thank you for this much." <Michelle> Minor scarring. Completely consistent with Marten's story, and completely out of place for Moon Dancer. <Marten> ::sighs:: I agree. ::looks at Michelle, then Lisl:: The two of you have given me a great deal to consider. <Zoya> Marten - whatever hurt you, took your memories... It could still be looking for you. Please, stay somewhere safe tonight. Come with me to the Tower, or at least stay here. * Jaret stands as well. "I have to be going as well. Goodnight, everyone." <Marten> ::looks at Zoya:: Milady Zoya, are you still insistent that I see a cleric? <Michelle> Goodnight Jaret. <Lisl> ::nods:: I was serious when I said I didn't think Marten was Moon Dancer...well...not completely, anyway. <Zoya> ::shakes her head:: I think this goes beyond what a simple cleric can do. <Marten> ::looks at Zoya, surprised:: The Tower? That may be a good idea, come to thing of it. * Jaret heads for the door. <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: But that's more than I want to get into tonight. I'm going home, for a change, to sleep in front of my own fire. ::grinning at Jaret:: Maybe I'll even take a leaf from M'lord Malkier's book, and sleep late. <Marten> Good night, milord Malkier. * Jaret laughs quietly as he exits the Hall. <Zoya> ::nods:: I can think of very little that could get into the Tower without my or Erdian's permission. You'd be as safe there as any of us could make you. <Marten> ::stands, almost energized:: Then, please milady Zoya, lead on. <Lisl> ::laughing softly, and putting a hand on Marten's shoulder:: Heel, boy. <Marten> ::looks at Lisl, amused, then frowns:: Excuse me? * Zoya heads for the door, then turns back briefly."Michelle - thank you for your assistance. I didn't know your healing magics were so acute, or I'd have suggested Marten see you earlier. ::turns to Lisl, smiling slightly:: You can stop that, right now. And... ::more soberly:: Be careful. * Michelle smiles at Zoya, "It's alright. I thought you wanted a cleric to look at his mind, or I'd have spoken up earlier." <Marten> ::nods to Michelle:: Thank you for your assistance, milady. And you, Lisl. Thank you for your patience. And friendship. <Lisl> ::chuckling:: Very well, Zoya. After all, you're both grownups. * Marten looks confusedly at Lisl, then finally 'gets it'.He laughs out loud. "Lisl! You read too much into a glance, I think!" * Zoya raises an eyebrow, almost daring Lisl to say more, then smiles slightly and leads the way out the door. "Good night, my friends..." <Michelle> Goodnight Zoya, Marten. * Marten walks out the door, laughing and following Zoya. * Michelle shakes her head, "If it was anyone other than Zoya I'd have had to say something about a chaperon." <Lisl> ::chuckles evilly, and heads after them out the door:: * Michelle takes the wine jug back into the kitchen, then briefly tidies up the common area. * Michelle heads towards the door herself after dimming the lights. She pauses on the threshold and looks at Sealgair's swords hanging over the mantle. "One last cast into your memory Sealgair." |
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