(("However, it is well known within Albion that there are no Avalonian Friars." Just like there's no elven bards... oh wait, Ayslyn sings. Curse you and your crazy creative elf-ness! ))

(They said I couldn't be a Bard... Nobody said ANYTHING about singing I refuse to be tied down by game rules )


The monk closed the door behind him and removed his cowl. Pointed ears peeked through long hair. Secaran smiled and handed the scroll over to Arguyle. "He did. And you can tell whoever is howling in grief in the cellar that the ale is fine. If you have the poison checked, you will find that it is a mild sleeping draught. Carrington means to warn you off. He does not relish the thought of killing those he once called brothers. Even if it was only in arms."

 

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Arguyle looked deep into the elf's eyes. It was as if he was peering into the very soul of the man. Searching.


Finally, satisfied that the man was telling the truth Arguyle relaxed and took a seat behind the desk.


"Tell me, what the hell is Carrington doing? Why does he continue to do things on his own instead of allowing those that would help him to do so? And what is this nonsense about him wanting to bring down the Royal House? He knows that Constantine is my friend. A brother really. He has to know that I will not allow him to harm the King." said the Highlander.


Noticing the brief look of surprise on the elf's face he smiled.


"Do not look so surprised. Do you think that Carrington is the only one with spies. There is not much that goes on in his camp that I do not know about."

Secaran nodded in appreciation. "Indeed, you are as formidable as Ayslyn thought. I can not pretend to know what Whitethorne (<--- just for you Caer ) is thinking. I do as Ayslyn commands me, and I protect my countrymen."

 

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"Go back to your Master and tell him to ensure that Carrington abandons this plan to harm my King. I shall send word to my assassins to stand down for the time being. Know this, though, the first sign I have that Carrington has not aborted this fool mission I shall unleash hell. I shall bring death and destruction to Carrington Whitethorne and all of Hibernia the likes of which have not been seen since the days of Uther. On that day...the last descendants of House Creel shall march upon Tir na Nog."

"So for your hatred of one man, you would ruin a country." Secaran looked speculatively at the Lord General. "Then again. Perhaps Ayslyn was wrong about you. I suggest you reflect on the Stones game and Mansfield's advice to you," he grinned at the look of shock on Arguyle's face. "Ayslyn is very old, and has many eyes. And above all is dedicated to protecting people. Read the scroll. If your answer is yes, come to Emain three days hence. Ayslyn will find you." He replaced his hood, and turned to leave. "May your god look down on you favourably, for I know that our Goddess does us." He opened the door and left.

 

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/bump!


(Thank you for the 'e' Asylyn. <grin>

 

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/bump

/sketches a caricature of Carrington on parchment


/pins the sketch to one of the targets at the archery range


/practices firing arrows at his pretty boy face


(bump)

Ayslyn approached the Nawg guildhouse. He was more than a little fond of the lively guild. Anyone that took that much joy in the simple living of life was alright in his book. Today however, they harboured a potential threat to the peace of Hibernia, and its people. He rapped sharply on the door, and when it was answered, announced, "I need to speak with young Carrington."

 

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