[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/MH4Nv4DF/cyn.png[/img][/center][center][b]Minor Characters: [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5518458]Kidelaut & Sioridann[/url]

[color=FFD700]Time:[/color][/b] Night
[b][color=FFD700]Location:[/color][/b] A small town south of Felipina // A tavern
[b][color=FFD700]Interactions:[/color][/b]
[b][color=FFD700]Mentions:[/color][/b]
[b][color=FFD700]Attire:[/color][/b]
[hider]Plain roughspun shirt (white) and trousers (brown)
Patched knee-length coat
Shoulder- and waist-belts
Old leather boots
[/hider][/center]

The sun had only just dipped beneath the horizon, and the night’s first stars only just began to shine, when Cynwaer stepped through the tavern’s doors. Right away, his nose sniffed out the heady, familiar, and [i]very[/i] inviting scents of various liquors. Mostly cheap ones, but those were the sort he liked best. The boisterous chatter of a late-evening crowd unwinding after a day’s labours filled his ears. By their choice of words—or rather, expletives—Cynwaer reckoned that most of them were either sailors or longshoremen. That wasn’t surprising. After all, this tavern sat so close to the sea that the air within was thick with salt. 

He tugged on the brim of his hat, pulling it just a touch lower over his eyes, and strode purposefully across the room. The clinks of bottles and glasses wafted over from the bar. Were this any other day, he would’ve gone straight there with barely a second thought. 

But this wasn’t any other day. For today, he was here on business. 

And so, he did his best to ignore the temptations of the bar—and to avoid it entirely, for that matter—as he carefully and firmly pushed his way through the mingling crowd. Thankfully, the night had not yet grown so old, and the patrons so inebriated, that a few shoves here and there were enough to start a fight. Even so, he did have to flash the sword and pistols hidden under his coat a few times, just to keep ones who looked to be more belligerent at bay.

[color=BDB76B]“Over here, Captain.”[/color]

A man called to him through the crowd, his resonant voice rising above the din, and his Kimoonese accent distinct amongst a sea of Caesonian tones. Cynwaer immediately turned, following the man’s voice before it sank beneath the tavern’s noise. Soon enough, he found himself away from the bulk of the crowd, and in a quieter—relatively speaking, at least—and darker corner of the tavern. The dim lamplight illuminating the rest of the building couldn’t quite reach this area, leaving the handful of tables and chairs clustered against the wall shrouded in dancing shadows. 

Cynwaer approached the only table that was occupied. [color=DC143C]“Evenin’,”[/color] he greeted with a tip of his hat.

[color=BDB76B]“A good evening to you, also,”[/color] Kidelaut—the man who’d called him over—replied. A small, amicable smile graced his sun-kissed, weather-worn face, and he had an air of tranquil calm about him. The dark patches of red staining his white shirt and tan longcoat, and the stiletto knife stabbed into the tabletop, on the other hand, looked markedly less friendly and peaceful. [color=BDB76B]“Please, do not mind the mess. There was some trouble with a few drunks earlier. Sioridann here attracted some unwanted attention.”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Huh,”[/color] was all Cynwaer said. He nodded to the knife. [color=DC143C]“Must’ve been some feckin’ trouble, aye.”[/color]

Sitting to Kidelaut’s left, Sioridann tittered softly, covering their mouth with a hand. [color=7B68EE]“Oh, that?”[/color] she said and reached for the knife. [color=7B68EE]“Don’t worry, Cyn. I didn’t [i]actually[/i] use it on anybody. The only thing that got stabbed was this poor table here! And I only did it to give some extra [i]encouragement[/i]. Some people just need more of it than others, I’m sure you understand.”[/color]

They gripped the knife’s handle firmly, and with a hard tug—hard enough to rock the table—they wrenched it free. [color=7B68EE]“But I’ve to admit, getting that kind of attention is rather flattering,”[/color] they said with a mischievous grin on their lips, and a playful shine in their eyes. Then, with deft, quick movements, they returned the knife to its sheath, which until now had been hidden within the ruffles of their skirt. 

Kidelaut chuckled and shook his head. [color=BDB76B]“Your flattery, Sioridann, is my trouble, I should remind you.”[/color]

[color=7B68EE]“Oh, don’t say it like that,”[/color] Sioridann replied, the mock hurt in their voice much too obvious for Cynwaer, or anyone else, for that matter, to take seriously. [color=7B68EE]“You know it’s useful, sometimes.”[/color]

Cynwaer cleared his throat, interrupting them before they could go on any further. [color=DC143C]“Right, well,”[/color] he said as he pulled out the chair opposite Kidelaut, and took his seat. He took off his hat and placed it over the deep gnash left by Sioridann’s knife. [color=DC143C]“I’m guessin’, an’ I’m feckin’ ‘opin’, that ta’ twa o’ ye did’nae ask me tae sail aw’ ta’ feckin’ way daen ‘ere frae Sorian jus’ tae ‘ave a chat, aye. What d’ye need me fer?”[/color]

Sioridann and Kidelaut glanced sideways at each other. Then, the latter pushed the bottle in front of him to the middle of the table, right beside Cynwaer’s hat. [color=BDB76B]“This is for you,”[/color] he said. [color=BDB76B]“For your troubles.”[/color]

Cynwaer moved the bottle closer to him, raising a brow but saying nothing. Not even a full day has passed since he’d received the letter calling for him to bring his ship to this small, unassuming village well south of Felipina, and to do so by this very night. For most ships, it’d be a tall order. For the [i]Remembrance[/i], herself a slower-than-average vessel, it was almost an impossible one. Preparations alone—resupplying her hold, recalling her crew that’d gone ashore, and expediting her repairs—had taken several hours. Gathering the necessary information to chart her route—to avoid the odd navy ship and privateer—took a handful more. 

By the time they’d left Sorian harbour, it’d already been well after sunset. Had it not been for the fortuitous appearance of a particularly strong southerly, and plenty of hard graft—and creative sailing—on part of the Remembrance’s crew, they would’ve never made it in time. Cynwaer had been plying the sea for his trade almost all his life, and still he could do without reliving those few hours between Sorian and here. 

And so, calling his experiences ‘troubles’ felt like a vast understatement. An insult, almost. And one bottle, no matter how rare, or potent, or luxurious, was certainly not payment enough. 

But Kidelaut knew that already. Cynwaer knew that he knew. 

The bottle, therefore, meant something else entirely.

[color=DC143C]“Cheers, pal,”[/color] Cynwar said, picking up the bottle and reading the label. It was Javarian whiskey, according to what was printed, but oddly enough listed a distillery closer to Wayness as its source. He glanced at the two, and they responded with small, surreptitious nods, just obvious enough for his eyes to catch. 

[color=BDB76B][i]Speak in code.[/i][/color]

Cynwaer returned the nods, then leaned back in his chair. [color=DC143C]“So, ye business up near ta’ mountains, how’d it gae?”[/color] he asked casually. [color=DC143C]“‘Twas minin’ stuff, was it?”[/color]

[color=DC143C][i]Your work at Redwater didn’t go according to plan, did it?[/i][/color]

Kidelaut offered a shrug. [color=BDB76B]“We achieved our aims, but admittedly, not without a few surprises.”[/color]

[color=BDB76B][i]Yes.[/i][/color]

[color=7B68EE]“But it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle,”[/color] Sioridann chipped in. [color=7B68EE]“Although I’m sure I speak for the both of us when I say that a change of scenery would be welcome. The countryside is lovely, but the convenience and bustle of a big city is hard to forget.”[/color]

[color=7B68EE][i]We took care of things as best we could, but we attracted unwanted attention. We plan to lay low in Sorian for the time being.[/i][/color] 

Cynwaer nodded slowly. [color=DC143C]“Aye, I can bring ye there,”[/color] he said. [color=DC143C]“But tell ye ta’ truth, once ye ‘ad a few days o’ city livin’, ye’d wan’tae get ta’ feck out quick as ye like, aye ye would.”[/color]

[color=DC143C][i]Are you sure you want to go to Sorian?[/i][/color]

[color=7B68EE]“We appreciate your concern, Cyn,”[/color] Sioridann replied. [color=7B68EE]“But you don’t need to worry! It’s not our first time in Sorian, you know? We know a few people here and there. It might have been a while, but I’m sure they’re still around! We’ll check in on them, see how they’re doing while we’re in the city.”[/color]

[color=7B68EE][i]Yes. We’ll find our contacts, see if they’re still active, and go from there.[/i][/color]

Kidelaut smiled. [color=BDB76B]“Yes, it has certainly been a long time since we last heard from them,”[/color] he said. [color=BDB76B]“And even if they are no longer around, we always have you for familiar company, Captain, do we not?”[/color]

[color=BDB76B][i]And if all else fails, we’ll be counting on you.[/i][/color]

[color=DC143C]“I s’pose ye dae,”[/color] Cynwaer replied. [color=DC143C]“But I’ll warn ye first, dae’n gae lookin’ fer me ev’ry feckin’ day, aye. Ta’ city’s a busy place nowadays, an’ I’ve me own shite tae deal wi’, aye I dae.”[/color]

[color=DC143C][i]I’ll do what I can. The city has changed, and I’m currently doing some work of my own.[/i][/color] 

That earned him a pair of curious and slightly concerned gazes, and so he continued. Or at least, he made an effort to—speaking cryptically had never been one of his strengths, and it took him a moment to think of what words to use. [color=DC143C]“Ah, I s’pose ye’ve not ‘eard yet,”[/color] he began. [color=DC143C]“Ta’...Well, ye ol’ bossman—”[/color] he looked at Kidelaut [color=DC143C]“—’is lady got intae some major trouble, aye she did, an’ now I’m tryin’ tae make sense o’ it aw’.”[/color]

[color=DC143C][i]The Queen has been charged with a serious crime. I’m dealing with part of the aftermath.[/i][/color]

Sioridann’s eyes widened. Kidelaut, on the other hand, merely furrowed his brow, and even then only for a fraction of a moment. [color=BDB76B]“I see,”[/color] he said, sounding calm as ever. He paused, chewing on his lip and tapping a finger on the table. [color=BDB76B]“Do you happen to know the nature of the trouble?”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“‘Tis ta’ unmentionable kind, aye.”[/color]

[color=DC143C][i]Magic.[/i][/color]

[color=7B68EE]“That…Is very major trouble, indeed,”[/color] Sioridann said, their voice dropping to a hushed whisper, their eyes looking down at the table. [color=7B68EE]“And what happened to the lady? I mean, I assume the bossman’s not pleased, but surely he wouldn’t punish his lady too severely.”[/color]

[color=7B68EE][i]What is the verdict on the Queen?[/i][/color]

Cynwaer shrugged. [color=DC143C]“I cannae say. I’ve nae heard ‘bout it yet, but I’ll be honest, ‘tis nae lookin’ tae good fer ‘er, nae. She’ll likely get a feckin’ ‘eavy punishment, frae what I ‘ear.”[/color]

[color=DC143C][i]I don’t know, but she’ll most likely get burned.[/i][/color]

Sioridann sighed, and shook her head. [color=7B68EE]“So even someone like her can’t get away,”[/color] they murmured. 

[color=DC143C]“I s’pose not,”[/color] Cynwaer said, his voice taking on a more sombre note. He hated the Queen as much as he hated every other noble, but he couldn’t deny that he understood why Sioridann might be feeling so upset at the news of her possible burning. The Queen was supposed to be untouchable—someone who sat well above the law. If the witchhunts could reach even her, could even sentence her to burn, then it meant that very dark times were coming for the common arcanist. 

For arcanists like Sioridann.

[color=BDB76B]“Do not worry,”[/color] Kidelaut said quietly, placing a hand on their shoulder. [color=BDB76B]“You are safe with us.”[/color]

Sioridann shrugged his hand away. [color=7B68EE]“I know that,”[/color] they said, a bite in their voice. [color=7B68EE]“But what about those not with us? If the Queen—”[/color] she stopped abruptly. [color=7B68EE]“I mean, if the lady—”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Oi, let’s jus’ stop that, aye?”[/color] Cynwaer cut in. [color=DC143C]“‘Tis givin’ me a feckin’ headache, ‘tis so. ‘Ow ta’ feck ta’ twa o’ ye can keep gae’n on an’ on wi’ that, I’ll ne’er feckin’ know. We’ll nae be ‘ere much longer, anyway. We’ll ‘ave tae move soon, otherwise ta’ harbourmaster’s gae’n start askin’ me tae pay ‘arbourin’ fees.”[/color]

A quiet laugh came from Sioridann. [color=7B68EE]“You didn’t pay?”[/color] they asked, their voice still small, and still heavy with worry. But at least it was a little chirpier, a little more playful, as it usually was. [color=7B68EE]“I’m surprised they even let you dock to begin with.”[/color]

[color=DC143C]“Aye, well, I told ‘im I’ll be gone in an hour or twa,”[/color] Cynwaer replied. Sioridann tittered, and even Kidelaut’s lips curled in a wry smile. [color=DC143C]“What? I was’nae lyin’. I did’nae know we’d end up ‘avin’ a wee chat. I reckoned we could’ve talked on ta’ ship.”[/color]  

He grabbed his hat, placed it snugly on his head, and stood up. [color=DC143C]“Come on, let’s gae. I’ll be fecked off if I’ve tae pay fer a full night when I’m nae e’en ‘ere fer half o’ that, aye I’ll be. We can talk more freely aboard ta’ ship. An’ ‘sides, I wan’tae be back in Sorian ‘fore daybreak. I’ve got shite tae dae.”[/color]

[color=BDB76B]“And what might that…Shite, as you say, be?”[/color] Kidelaut asked, getting to his feet as well.

Cynwaer looked at him for a moment. Then, he grinned. [color=DC143C]“Ah, right, I did’nae tell ta’ twa o’ ye,”[/color] he said. [color=DC143C]“‘Tis nae aw’ doom an’ gloom, aye. I’ve a plan tae dae somethin’ about aw’ this shite, an’ best o’ aw’, I found us a new pal tae lend a hand. I’ll ‘ave tae introduce ye, once we’re back.”[/color]