With a growl, Moryan tugs her hand back. She might have understood the motives, but she was not impressed with the intent.


"Look here, iffen Lord Hurbury still wants his son ta wed a girl whats had her virginity done away with, thats his own problem. Shes happily in lo'e with the young thief, who is now a farking knight by Arguyle's doing. How in blazes they gonna make that happen!?" The dilema of the situation was starting to make the mercenary's head spin. She hated politics, hated the damn nobles, well, most of them anyways. With a scowl, her eyes darted around the room and to her surprise she spotted Glavian, pretending to be looking at the young minstrel. She knew him well enough to know he was checking up on her in some fashion. A small smile tugged at her lips, knowing she was not alone here.


"Look here Crispian, I met ye fer some answers, and all thats going on in m'head is more questions. Nae anything we can do iffen she pushes through the annulment, is there? We ha'e ta protect the lass and her husband. Thats the job o' the Wayward as they are part o' our guild, and our family. Arguyle can take care o' himself, and he knows I'm here iffen he needs me. As fer Carrington, we need ta get it known that his brother is a cult member, and see iffen we can re'erse his fortunes just a bit. Iffen Caer canna inherit, neither should that bastard brother o' his."

Sliding into the seat next to Galavain, Jashen nudged him and grinned. "Good dancer, ain't she friend?" His sly expression belied his intent though.


Galavain looked back at Moryan and the young man, then at the stranger next to him...

 

-----signature-----

<cough> Glavian <cough>

Taking another sip from his ale, Glavian eyes the newcomer sideways as he takes a seat.


"Aye, she is indeed." he says as he leans back in his chair. The large mercenary crosses his arms and rests his hands on his sword hilts.


"Be der somethin ye want, lad?" he asks Jashen, as he continues to watch the dancer, and Moryan, and tries to make out any more of the conversation.

/ooc Eke - new line for your Tag -Crispian typo of the day!

 

-----signature-----

/ooc Bah, you have to turn typo's into an artform like Carrington does.


I never did mention the .. his eyes roam across your curses and breasts one..


<COUGHS>

Jashen smirked and shook his head. "Just keeping an eye for me brother," he said, leaning back, arms crossed on his chest, not putting his hands near his own sword hilts. "As others are watching mine. What say we just join the couple, before Moryan belts my brother one?"

 

-----signature-----

Glavian, still cautious of this newcomer, says


"Bah, if'n we interupt Moryan, we'll be de ones gettin belted me thinks. I prefer me ale and a tune if ye do nae mind, and me face intact."


Then he motions to a serving wench for another ale.


"Why would ye be lookin out fer yer brother. I kin assure ye he be in no danger wit Moryan near im, unless he keeps eyein er like dat."


Then nods toward the couple as Crispians' eyes, once again follow the shapely curve of the young female Merc.


"Even then me thinks she'd hurt is pride more den anythin." he says with a grin.


Taking his hands from his sword hilts, he extends one toward the lad and says


"Glavian Tanriel, Knight of de Royal Order."

Above Caer, a creak is heard in the rafters, then silence. A moment later, a thread is lowered and a fat rat makes its way down. For a moment, the varmit paused on the rope, spinning slowly in the halflight, examining Caer. With a hop, the mouse landed before Caer and ran behind him.


Whiskers tickled at the cleric's wrists, but it was worth it. The ropes were sheared by a certain pair of sharp teeth, and as Caer lifted his bleeding hands to his face, the mouse scurried back into sight.


There the rat uncoiled his tail to show a Whitethorne signet ring for a moment, before scurrying back up the rope and out of sight.


-------------------


Many miles away, Lord Benowyc arrived in Camelot for his meeting with the Whitethorn.

Time was short, and the rat had much land to cross. Wind held his whiskers along his flanks as he sped, hugging the ground, through fields. As the moon rose above him, it glinted off a signet ring rolling behind the rat on an axel of tail.