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* Orlann looks up at the Tower somewhat nervously, having never been there without Tarri in accompaniment. However, as she is working this day and the note said "earliest possible convenience," he has the air of one about to face an unpleasant chore when he knocks tentatively on the door - rightside up and mostly normal for a change. * Zoya answers the door herself, knowing how nervous excessive use of magic makes Orlann. "Good afternoon, Sergeant Drilgar. Thank you for coming." * Orlann makes a quick bow. "And a fine one 'tis, Madam Natovna. Y'wanted t'see me?" <Zoya> Yes. Please, come in. No need to be uncomfortable. ::She leads Orlann into the parlor, where Lisl already waits.:: Have a seat. Something to drink? Or eat? * Lisl looks up from where she's been wearing a track in Zoya's carpet. "He's here already? That was quick." She sounds like this was not her most-hoped-for outcome. <Orlann> ::shakes his head:: I'm fine, ma'am. Tarri left me a bit of packed lunch before she headed over to work this mornin'. <Lisl> ::nods to Orlann:: Glad you could come, Sergeant. <Orlann> Afternoon, Miss Lisl... ::looks at her curiously:: Pardon me askin', but you don't look s'well. Are y'feelin' all right? * Zoya folds herself into her favorite chair, her calm providing a counterpoint to Lisl's agitation. <Lisl> ::resuming her pacing with a tight smile:: Just a bit of nerves, Sergeant. I've been a little, ah, tense, of late. ::she looks slightly more relaxed as she paces, as if the motion soothes her somewhat:: <Zoya> I understand that you, too, have been affected by the... rumors going around about the Hall, Sergeant? <Orlann> Yes'm, both Tarri'n I have, although ::looks a bit stern:: She's actually gettin' some benefit outta it. Iffen y'can call more business from shady characters a *benefit*. ::he looks very dubious:: <Zoya> ::looks amused:: I'm sure *she* does. You were aware, I think, that there is some reason to believe that one - or perhaps more - of the War Wizards may be behind those rumors, or at least assisting them? <Lisl> ::pauses to cock her head at Orlann with a small frown:: You know, I've seen you in plainclothes a lot of late, Sergeant. They haven't... well... suspended you or anything, have they? <Lisl> ::waves a hand:: No, never mind, dishonorable question. ::resumes pacing:: * Orlann looks mildly shocked, then turns his attention towards Zoya. "I didn't rightly know that, ma'am, although I'm in the know that we ain't 'xactly in their favor much, of late." <Zoya> ::holds up a finger:: I have no certainties, Sergeant, only suspicions, based on certain actions... I spoke to one of my few acquaintances among them, but he knew nothing useful. Either I asked entirely the wrong questions, or he's a far better actor than I would have guessed. <Lisl> ::snorts and mutters:: Aye, and I have even more suspicions than you, Zoya... <Orlann> ::glumly:: Iffen y'got even suspicions, yer further along than I. I been tryin' t'track back the rumors, but people ain't 'xactly bein' forthcomin' as t'where they heard such a wild story. ::for just an instant he looks angry and you might better understand why someone might not be 'forthcoming' to such an appearance.:: <Zoya> ::smiles sympathetically, then glances at Lisl:: Lisl also tells me that you are aware that some of the rumors actually have... some ground in reality. * Lisl resumes her pacing. At the far end of her circuit, she picks up a half-finished cup of tea from where she'd left it on a bookcase and takes another sip, grimacing at her cup before putting it down again. <Orlann> ::nods:: Yes'm... some are. And some ain't. <Lisl> ::glancing at Zoya:: What Zoya's dancing around, Sergeant, is that I have an extreme mistrust of coincidence. I don't like how close the "ain't" ones are to the "are" ones. ::grimaces:: There's a werewolf on the Hall, and there's a rumor of a werewolf and a vampire. We get a little show of support from the dock workers, and all of a sudden some bunch with a wolf, possibly even a werewolf, is leaning on smugglers down at the docks. <Lisl> Just because the rumors are half-truths, doesn't mean the rumormonger doesn't know the *whole* truth... which makes me wonder, how does he or she know? <Lisl> Which is... ::looks embarrassed:: ...part of why I got Zoya to ask you here. <Orlann> ::shrugs:: Rumors is rumors... ain't no one so careful or so honest that someone with a grudge cain't dig nothin' up on 'em. I mean, lookit me an' Tarri. We ain't 'xactly livin' honest and married now, are we? ::he blushes, but continues:: S'some people don't look too kindly on't and are talkin' bad about her f'r bein'... well, y'know. Bad. <Lisl> Aye. ::her mouth is bitter:: Still, rumors are one thing. Attacks and deaths are another... and I couldn't give a fig if the one doing the dying is a smuggler or the Lord of Marsember, myself. Killing's killing. <Lisl> ::perching on the arm of a chair, leaning forward intently as she talks to Orlann:: Serg-- Orlann. I trust you, or I would never have put my secret in your hands. That silly accident with the knife had nothing to do with it, that was just... well, I have to force myself into things, sometimes. ::makes a face:: <Lisl> You do believe that I trust you? <Orlann> Yes'm, I do. If nothin' else, you're right close t'my Tarri, and iffen I thought y'didn't think I was worthy, she'n I might have some words. <Lisl> ::snorts ruefully:: Aye, indeed. Alright then... bear with me, here. As I said, I mistrust coincidence, and I've been wracking what little brain I have to figure out how our little rumormonger might know what he knows. He might have a spy at the Hall, but that didn't make sense... I trust my friends at the Hall. But then... ::having trouble meeting his eyes:: ...we've had trouble in the past with a spy who didn't know he was spying. * Zoya leans back in her chair, lacing her long fingers and watching Orlann carefully. <Orlann> ::raises one eyebrow, his face a little dark:: Yer thinkin' it's me again? <Lisl> ::pinching the bridge of her nose:: No, I didn't. But then I remembered, it was the War Wizards who removed that spell on your blood. And at the moment, I trust that lot as far as I could throw-- well, throw their tower, anyway. <Orlann> But Miss Lisl, I didn' rightly know about yer little... difficulty until jus' recent-like. An' that rumor's been 'round for quite some time. * Zoya raises her eyebrows at Lisl, as if silently recalling an earlier argument. <Lisl> No... but the attack down at the docks happened after I talked to you. ::rubs her face:: And as Zoya's told me, I tend to let my guard down when I'm at the Hall. I'm not as careful as I should be. And I mightn't have raised *your* suspicions, but a trained mage in your shoes might have seen something more... <Lisl> ::sharply:: I'm not calling you stupid, Sergeant. And I'm not saying I don't trust you. I just... ::deflates:: I don't know what to do with this. <Zoya> ::snorts:: Whatever's going on down by the docks, I don't think it's the Wizards. I won't believe they'd kill and mutilate people just to frame you. Not when - as figures of law - they could just have you arrested. <Lisl> ::retorting with what sounds like a previous argument:: On what proof? That they'd gotten my confession through an orcish spy-spell that they were supposed to have removed a year ago? That'd play well at court. ::softer:: Heh. Presuming the likes of me even got a trial. <Orlann> ::firmly:: It ain't against th'law to be whatcha are. Only what y'do. <Lisl> Would that everyone thought that way. ::sighs:: I have a... ::glances at Zoya:: *small* problem with seeing owlbears behind every bush sometimes. It's lost me the trust of friends before. ::rubs her face again:: And aye, I admit, this could all be innocent coincidence, it could be a completely unrelated attack. But... if it *is* related, I'd rather know about it than not. <Zoya> ::waves a hand dismissively:: All that is speculation. Whatever the case, I *don't* trust the Wizards not to be spreading the rumors, which is why I agreed to this. <Orlann> ::slowly:: I ain't th'best mind, an' I know it. But I been workin' this side of th' law for a long while now. Ain'tcha... well, some people they hear somethin' an' think it's a fair plan. An' they use what they heard to commit *their* crime. <Lisl> ::frowns:: So... are you saying I *don't* sound completely crazy? <Orlann> I am sayin' this might'n have anythin' to do with you, unless y'intend t'take responsibility fer someone else's action. <Lisl> ::snorts:: Wouldn't be the first time. <Zoya> ::cheerfully:: Oh, of *course* she intends to take responsibility. It's her favorite pastime. * Lisl sticks her tongue out at Zoya quite childishly. <Lisl> ::mutters:: S'alright for *me* to say it.... <Zoya> ::grins and winks at Lisl, then turns back to Orlann seriously:: What we'd like to do, Sergeant, is to examine you, to see if there is any magic remaining within you. ::stresses:: With your permission, freely given. * Lisl nods fervent agreement with Zoya on this last part. * Orlann looks like he swallowed a lemon. "Y'know, I ain't 'xactly over feelin' like a bastard 'bout th'last time this happened." He colors slightly. "Beggin' your pardon, but it's right truthful, that. Makes me right sick t'my stomach, thinkin' 'bout it." <Zoya> ::nods solemnly:: I understand. Being forced to betray your loved ones - even unwillingly and unwittingly - is a terrible thing. <Lisl> Makes me pretty sick to my stomach, at that. I don't mean to give you pain over this. But the dishonor here doesn't lie with you... it's with who did this to you. And if the War Wizards claimed to have removed the spell and kept it on for their own purposes... ::her expression darkens, and her eyes gleam yellow:: <Lisl> ::shakes her head:: It'd be like... a doctor just pretending to cure a disease, so he can make money off everyone else his patient unwittingly infects. Not the patient's fault he's still sick, but that doctor... he'd have a *lot* to answer for. * Orlann collapses in the nearest chair and his head sinks into his hands in an expression of almost total despair. "Please. It didn't rightly occur t'me that they'd not do as they claimed an'... well, I reckon it's best t'know." <Lisl> ::looks away, eyes pained:: Gods above and below, I pray I'm wrong. <Zoya> ::softly:: It's not something that had occurred to us, either, Sergeant, until this... Well. Let us hope that Lisl has yet again allowed her imagination to run away with her, hmm? <Lisl> ::softly:: For someone who hates to disappoint, I seem to spend an awful lot of time apologizing to you, Sergeant. But for what little it's worth... I *am* sorry to ask this of you. <Orlann> ::without looking up:: What'd y'need for me t'do? * Zoya comes out of her chair and kneels at Orlann's side in one graceful motion. "Look into my eyes. This won't hurt, though it may... tickle, a little. Try to relax. Think of- think of Tarri." * Orlann looks up and meets Zoya's gaze. There is a painful expression of guilt and anger in his pale blue eyes. * Lisl flinches as the look in Orlann's eyes, but swallows and doesn't look away. * Zoya smiles sadly at Orlann's expression. "Relax, Sergeant. Try to think of something happy. Concentrate on it as much as you can." * Orlann shrugs and makes the best attempt possible, although he looks like a man not much used to concentrating on anything. * Zoya seems to look through Orlann's eyes into him, her voice soft as she speaks her spell. * Orlann twitches away from Zoya's spell and seems unable to withdraw his gaze. <Zoya> ::after a long moment:: Are there any magic items on your person at the moment, Sergeant? That you know of? Protective or offensive gear for work? Taken any potions in the last few weeks? Healing potions or love philtres? Had any clerical assistance? * Orlann nods and indicates a heavy gold band with the Dragon stamp on it. "This. An' the tabard itself is spelled for protection, but I ain't got that with me right now." <Lisl> ::quietly:: Do you need me to move away, Zoya? * Zoya gestures with one hand, fine-tuning her spell. "You're fine, Lisl. Don't distract me. This isn't as easy as it looks." * Lisl nods and sits quietly, still as a predator in the grass. <Zoya> ::Finally, she sits back on her heels.:: Well, Lisl, you owe the man a beer for scaring him half to death. ::to Orlann:: You're clean. <Lisl> ::lets out a breath:: I owe him a hell of a lot more than that. You're sure, Zoya? * Orlann looks as if he's prevented from collapsing to the floor in a puddle of relief by sheer pride alone. <Zoya> Yes, I'm sure. Not a single hint of magic - secular or clerical - anywhere in his system, aside from that ring. <Lisl> ::biting her lip and almost wincing as she asks the question:: And... no way the ring could be it either, aye? <Orlann> ::taps the emblem:: It's standard, Miss Lisl... every Dragon gets one, t'call for backup, iffen we need it. <Zoya> No, there's nothing unusual about it. Pretty standard-issue. <Lisl> ::nods, looking ashamed:: Alright. I'm sorry, Orlann. * Orlann gets shakily to his feet. "Don't fret about it, Miss Lisl. I reckon that I'd be right suspicious in yer shoes as well." <Lisl> Aye, well, just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean I have the right to drag everyone else into my delusions with me. ::makes a face:: I thank you for putting up with it. <Lisl> ::sighs:: Doesn't solve all our problems, but you did save me from stomping down to the War Wizard's tower and flinging my accusation in their faces. ::looks rueful:: * Zoya stands up again, somewhat laboriously. "Yes, thank you, Sergeant. I'm sorry if that was uncomfortable." <Zoya> ::gives Lisl an amused look:: What now? Maybe *you're* the spy. ::she grins:: <Orlann> ::attempts a quick smile:: I reckon I'll survive. <Lisl> And if I may presume further on the Tower's hospitality... both of you look a bit peaked, and I sure as hell could use a drink. <Lisl> ::holds her hands out to Zoya:: You're welcome to check me, if you think so. If you don't fall over doing it. <Zoya> ::grins wider:: Maybe later. ::to Orlann:: A drink, now? Or would you rather just escape? * Orlann nods. "I reckon I could take a bit of somethin' for my nerves." He shakes his head. "I don't reckon I ever thought bein' in the city would b'so bad as all this." * Zoya summons the Staff, which arrives bearing dwarven spirits for Lisl, a mug of beer for Orlann, and a cup of steaming tea for Zoya. <Lisl> ::shrugs a shoulder:: Most cities, probably not. I'd be amazed if Arabel had our level of goings-on... tho'... it *is* a trade city, so maybe. Heh. And I'm sure I make things out to be worse than they are, anyway. <Zoya> ::laughs:: I understand Waterdeep is *much* worse. <Lisl> Ahh... my thanks, Zoya. ::taking a hefty swallow:: Heh. Tyl doesn't look much like she's in retirement. * Orlann is somewhat dubious about the Staff and sniffs at his mug before taking a cautious drink. <Lisl> ::grins:: These days, it's more reliable than what you get at the Hall, Sergeant. <Orlann> I just ain't used to magic, I reckon. ::toasts Zoya with his mug:: Beggin' your pardon an' all, Madam Natovna. <Zoya> ::grins:: Quite all right. Though I'd much rather you just called me Zoya, please. Priestess, if you must be formal. "Madam Natovna" sounds far too... too... respectable and orderly. ::she winks over the rim of her teacup:: <Lisl> Orderly? You? Bite your tongue, chaos mage. <Zoya> Thanks, but no. * Orlann blushes. "I reckon I c'n try, ma'am. But I ain't so good at bein' improper with ladies." * Lisl takes another swallow from her mug of dwarven, knocking it back the way Orlann drinks his ale. <Lisl> Oh, that's no problem then, Orlann. ::grins:: I'm no lady. <Zoya> Nothing improper with "Priestess," Sergeant. Anything but "Madam," I beg! ::her eyes twinkle:: <Lisl> Well, I got him as far as "Miss Lisl." Tho' I think that's because "Miss Ferinsdottir" is too much of a jaw-breaker. <Zoya> ::pretending to be offended:: You get a "Miss" and I got "Madam"? That's hardly fair. You're at *least* two centuries older than I am! <Orlann> ::nods slowly:: I reckon I c'n try an' change my manners. I ain't 'xactly living in Bleakhill no more. <Lisl> ::grins, eyeing Zoya:: Probably more like three. You're just scarier than I am. <Zoya> ::sticks her tongue out at Lisl, then nods to Orlann:: I appreciate that you want to offer everyone the proper respect, Sergeant. It's just that Marsember's rules for respect are a little different. <Lisl> ::to Orlann:: Your manners are just fine, Orlann. We're just saying, we're not used to so much formality between friends. Hells, I've even got Kevil down to nearly my bare name. If he weren't so worldly, he'd probably be scandalized down to his toes. * Orlann looks like he's debating protesting Zoya as scarier than Lisl, then reconsiders it and settles for finishing off his beer. <Zoya> ::snorts at Lisl's comment about Kevil:: * Orlann puts his mug down. "I thank y'kindly for the beer, Miss Zoya, but I reckon I ought t'get goin'. Tarri's got a list 'bout s'long as my arm for me to get 'round to today." <Zoya> ::laughs:: You're welcome, and thank you again. If you don't complete your list, please feel free to blame it on us. I'd hate to get you in trouble with your sweetheart because of us. ::grins:: * Lisl takes another hefty swallow of spirits and puts the mug down. "Want any help, Sergeant? I've got nothing to do today but sit on my thumbs and chase my worries around in circles." <Orlann> ::grins:: Sure, Miss Lisl. I reckon y'can help me clean the gutters. <Lisl> ::grins:: I'm game. Long as I get more than a toothbrush to do it with. ::stands and knocks back the rest of her drink in a few long swallows:: Zoya, I'll be back later, and we can argue a little more about that other matter, alright? <Zoya> Certainly. The door's always open, you know. <Lisl> Aye. You should do something about that, anyone could walk in. ::grins:: <Orlann> ::under his breath:: Not that anyone *would*... <Lisl> ::grins at Orlann:: <Zoya> ::laughs:: |
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