Ignacio's Gallery (Samheen 16th, Eveningtide) ~ Ord

[Guest]

The rain is indeed heavy, and it is quite probable that even if their place of hiding has not served to disguise their transformation, the rain will have prevented any curious eyes from peering in. Kaileann shakes her hair, as if she herself must test the resilience of the transmutation she has gone. The luster of her hair has decreased somewhat, it seems, and she looks idly at a strand of her now ebon locks and sighs.

A few flickers later, she looks at Ord and smiles. "You look so different I doubt anyone could recognize you, husband. Your face is pasty and Dortenese, the hair is red and flame-like, and though you might not have noticed, you have a beard and moustache." The girl gigles, her eyes filled with genuine pleasure at her work. "Your eyes are a soft cerulean, as I had envisioned they might be, Ord de Moire, Lord of Dort." She chuckles slightly taking his arm in agreement.

Johanthan is still shaking his head in disbelief, and moves just behind the pair, allowing them to provide his cover- be a distraction and smokescreen for his own uncharted progress within the studio. He is muttering something- and Ord can catch bits and pieces- something about always having to do the dirty work, and never getting to be part of the fun... and it seems that Kaileann hears as well, shaking her head with soft amusement.

Before long they are before the tall doors, paned with glass, and marked with various artistic whirls and whorls, fractalline patterns cascading down and around the surface. It is all very elaborate, to be sure, but Kaileann takes only a flicker to compose herself, muttering softly. "Remember you are Ord de Moire, and I am the lady Vesper de Moire- you are of Dort, and I am of Amun Rah." With nothing more, she forces the door open, and it slides inward silently, revealing the interior of Ignacio's studio.

The interior is well designed and expansive- massive works of art hanging on every available surface of the entry room- with three doors leading into what are doubtless rooms filled with additional art. The art is very antique in its form and presentation- and much of it is religiously inspired- showing the events from the Books of Dominicus, as well as what are doubtless original scenes. Ord might recognize depictions of Kern, the cleric- or perhaps the Oracle herself, seated upon her chair for yahren after yahren.

What is perhaps most intriguing, though, is the fact that much of the art seems to contain a kind of subtle mockery of faith- not enough that everyone might get it, but enough that is detectable to inquisitive minds. The dust and growing moss upon the form of the Oracle is detectable- perhaps a commentary on the age of her words and how they are too archaic to be considered modren... all very fascinating.

Within there is a tall and blonde gentlemen, his form awkward and lanky, dressed all in finery and lace- being led about by a man who is much shorter, wearing a very elegant se of painter's garb, this one devoid of the paint spatter one might expect on such an article of clothing. The artist has very curly, long, and black moustaches and he speaks with a heavy accent that Ord recognizes as originating from World's Mouth.

Other than this, a woman strides about the room, her dark skin unblemished- the lips and eyelids painted in the manner of her people- and Ord might realize how similar in appearance this stranger and Kaileann's disguise seem. Her ears are hung with long and heavy earrings, silver and gold- and the woman's eyes are filled with wonder as she looks upon the art, though it is a kind of morbid fascination that lies within them, more akin to disbelief that someone actually buys this stuff than that any amazement at artistic skill. Perhaps that is why she is buy herself.

The pair are being escorted by some armed guards, who look suspiciously toward the entrance as Ord and Kaileann enter, though it seems the disguises provide sufficient obfuscation, for they don't seem terribly interested in the two disguised thieves for more than a few flickers, after which they continue to look about in that falsely attentive manner that all guardsmen perfect.

Kaileann nudges Ord, for it does indeed make sense for a gentleman to lead his wife, and to make the appropriate introductions, when necessary. He can tell, from the way she is behaving, that she is enjoying herself- perhaps sinking into the role to a greater extent than strictly necessary. However, there is no time for such speculation- only time to begin the plan, and pray that it all works out.

[Guest]

Ord’s heart leapt into his throat. He suddenly wished he’d asked more questions before going in. Who do I target? What do I say? What do we do when we done? He could feel a small bead of sweat rising on his forehead. His pulse quickened and his mouth began to dry.

Wait! Take a deep breath. This isn’t too different than the streets of the Mouth now is it? It’s all about gaining the mark’s confidence. Be simple and deliberate. Make them believe you and make them believe you sympathize with them. Ord’s heart rate decreased as he gained control over his emotions. He made himself believe he could pull this off. A mischievous grin appeared on his face.

Ord stood to his full height and put on an air he felt appropriate for a young noble out showing off for his new wife. He thought of all the nobles he’d seen, which wasn’t that many when he actually thought about it. He thought of they would act in a similar situation. How ironic. Here I am disguised as one of the greedy nobles. The One has a sense of humor after all.

He smoothed his hair and then molded his unfamiliar beard into a point. He stamped his feet and shook the water off his cloak. Ord examined the occupants of the room, careful not to make eye contact. The short man with the curly hair was clearly the artist and the lanky fellow could only be Immanuel. He noted their location in relation to the woman who must be the mistreated Myalana . He then made a mental check of the exits. One was the way he came in, the other, probably through those double doors. We must get to Myalana without being suspected. Perhaps she will recognize my "wife" as a fellow citizen of Amun Rah.

Ord spoke aloud as he took his "wife's" hand. “You see, my dear, this is the studio I was telling you about. The artist is very famous and his works are known throughout the kingdom.” Ord leaned over to take Kaileann’s cloak. As he leaned over, he whispered into ear. “Should we go to Myalana? Or will Ignacio want to talk to us first?” He stood close to her, wisps of her hair tickling his lips as he spoke.

[Guest]

Ord finds that Kaileann is a natural at this sort of thing- following his lead graciously, her eyes fluttering with all the innate grace of someone trained to be a trophy wife. She allows him to lead, while still maintaining her own degree of quiet control- her progress guiding his own gently and imperceptibly, allowing him the power and authority appropriate to his perceived station- after all, what nobleman of Dort allows his wife to control his path?

At his secretive query, she replies with delicate breath- "Ignacio does not know your name, you lack the ignorantly foppish infamousness of our dear Immanuel Marrow. I should think that as long as Myalana is unattended, he will remain with his prized customer. Just take care not to make mention of possessing a large pocketbook- that attracts attention here like flies to honey." All of the information is conveyed with seemingly impossible swiftness, yet Ord is capable of understanding all of it- a testament to either magical power or perhaps skill picked up in years of thievery.

To her escort's louder comment, however, she offers a small gasp of delight- her eyes fixing intently upon the first piece present upon the rightmost wall- the one opposite that which Ignacio and Immanuel stand at, the one where Myalana idly stares. "Oh, my, these are truly exquisite- it is a shame that we do not have the fortune to purchase one," she sounds disappointed, eyes downcast and tragic. "But perhaps next visit, once the Eastern Sands company returns to its former wealth? I do so look forward to hanging one of these in my home hall in Amun Rah- my mother would so enjoy these depictions of winged men and women."

At the mention of Amun Rah, Ord can notice the way Myalana's head perks slightly, eyes not diverting from the paintings, but nonetheless interested. Kaileann's eyes find Ord's own, winking- the purple-painted lids suddenly seeming alien and foreign. "But yes, I do so think the Rafao will be impressed- what with all the recent business with all those pesky adhiel down there..." her voice lowered to a hushed whisper- and she clung a little more tightly to Ord's arm.

Behind them, the opening and closing door is almost inaudible- timed expertly within the height of "Vesper's" excitement. No heads turn, and no eyes peer- Johanthan enters and seems almost a wraith, so quickly does he diminish into the rear of the room- a part of the gallery invisible from where Ignacio and Immanuel stand, now appraising a piece of art depicting the King commanding his troops to slay an approaching force of orcs.

[Guest]

Ord followed the eyes of Kaileann to the painting on the right wall. He’d never studied art so knew little of its value let alone its meaning. He knew artists worked hard but their contribution to society always seemed smaller than their egos. However, Ord’s contempt for their contribution did affect his admiration of the profession. Artists were the ultimate con men. Who else could convince someone that a mixture of paint on canvas was worth so much money. They aren’t called con-artists for nothing.

Ord took Kaileann’s cue and led her toward the painting near Myalana. Ord told himself not look for Johnathan and keep his eyes focused on his destination. He did not want give away their accomplice. Smiling he, he placed his hand over Kaileann’s and tried to seem engrossed in the artwork.

“I knew you would like these. I’ve heard such great things about the artist. I daresay he should be known as far as Amun Rah. Your mother could do much worse than decorating her hall with a painting from Ignacio.”

“You will have to help me,” Ord admitted. “I am good with names and can see quality. But, to my mother’s shame, I did not take its interpretation. Tell me, what do the winged men represent? Are they angels?” Ord sounded as excited as he could, hoping those that overheard him would consider him genuine.

[Guest]

Kaileann giggles lightly, and her mouth parts as if to answer Ord's spoken question, but before she manages to do so, the solid and dark form of Myalana is at the couple's side, eyes raising casually to the indicated artwork. Her eyes are a soft and chocolate brown, painted with blues and purples- cheeks coated with a fine layer of rouge, lips painted a crimson so deep that it seems almost black in its hue. She points delicately- revealing fingers painted in colors to match the shades upon her eyelids. Her form is draped in garments of the deepest black, silken and sheer- perhaps a bit risque for the crowds of the city, but still elegant. She has a feathered boa- red and striking- wrapped about her shoulders and arms.

"Those winged forms are angels, most of them designed as members of one of the lower hierarchies. Messengers, you see- you can tell because they are unarmored," Myalana speaks, her words as rich and light as the woman speaking them. "As you can see, the majority are flowing from the heavens- depicted here as a palace in the clouds," she indicates the appropriate portion of the space, and Kaileann's eyes follow with polite interest and giggling softly- at which the wealthy woman whispers words in a tongue that Ord cannot understand, looking into the sorceress's eyes. Both laugh more loudly at that- but not loudly enough to attract attention. Kaileann responds in kind, and the volume of their mirth increases once more.

"Anyway," says Myalana, her laughter dying down along with that of the lawyer's 'wife', "they are doubtless bringing some sort of grim news down from the heavens- doubtless Dominicus himself- to this palace upon the ground, which one might recognize from its shape as the palace in this very city. Though the artist played a bit of a trick on the viewer- for the Palace is actually cracking in places, as you can see- almost imperceptibly." She chuckles at some inner meaning.

"Upon the edges of the city, you can see the vaguest sign of fires in the distant- smoke filling the horizons of the depiction, as warrior angels- these of the higher classes, given their armors, flutter in the direction of whatever destruction is at work there." She leans back, hand lowering for the first time since she began speaking. Turning, this time eyes fixed upon Ord, she smiles politely, extending a hand.

"Marking this scene as the first siege of King's Court, during the reign of Kieran- at least, that's my interpretation. My name is Myalana Marrow, husband to Immanuel Marrow, the famed collector. Though I don't usually like art like this, I suppose I owe him the right to his indulgences, he being the lord of the house," she laughs lightly- dutifully, even. "Boys will be boys, and all that-- so, what are your names, might I ask?"

She looks at Ord, of course, clearly making it known that she does indeed follow the belief that men are always the runners of the households, in all cases.

[Guest]

Ord smiled while Myalana spoke. The layers of makeup fascinated him. Myalana, and in her disguise , Kaileann, were truly exotic looking women. He hoped he did not seem too entranced. He was excited to speak with this woman.

“Madame Marrow, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am the Lord Ord de Moire of the Isle of Dort. This is my beautiful bride, Lady Vesper. We are very pleased to make your acquaintance.” Ord attempted a small bow as he introduced himself, hoping he did seem too awkward.

“You seem to know quite a bit about art. I don’t really think I am a fair judge. I hardly noticed the cracks you pointed out. My wife, though, has much more of an eye for art. It seems you two have something in common. But then, I think it is fitting for beauty to judge beauty.” Ord smiled winningly, his tone just patronizing enough to not be rude, but complimentary enough to hope for a return smile.”

“If I may be so bold, you are also from Amun Rah, Myalana, correct? My wife and I were just discussing the opportunity to present one of the magnificent pieces of art as a gift to her mother.”

Ord looked around longingly at the art in the room. “I think, though, that business may not be good enough to bring home a treasure such as these.”

[Guest]

Myalana laughs lightly- the sound more eloquent and deep than any other laugh it seems that Ord has heard before, a sound borne perhaps of practice than true mirth. The notion is perhaps proven as she silences herself prematurely and suddenly- which gives the odd impression that the woman is being choked, though it is clear that she is not.

"I know some, but mostly that which my husband has spoken about. I myself am not truly an art buff, but I do as my husband requires- if he desires art, then what right have I to decide how he spends his money? After all, I am but a wife," she intones, her lips forming a delicate smile that is equally as practiced as her laugh had been- the paint upon her lips giving an impression of moist invitation. "You are quite flattering milord Ord de Moire. Moire- such an interesting family name- I believe your family grows the famous potatoes of Dort, yes?" She seems entirely confident in her reply, giving no indication that she is stretching herself to recall the crop that matches the name.

"Yes, I am from Amun Rah- and I have been most curious regarding how precisely that fair isle is doing of late," she looks at Kailieann winningly and inquiringly- clearly indicating that she would like to receive such news directly from the source. "I'm sure the Lady Vesper's mother would most adore a piece such as one of these-- as would... the Rafao, I believe you said?" Her eyes widen slightly, but close almost as quickly, the confusion in her eyes stating volumes that Ord can doubtless barely comprehend.

At Ord's final words, though- she looks up. "Yes, Ignacio is most terribly expensive. He charges twice what these works are truly valued at, to tell the truth... but still, so many buy them, because they love his creations," she adds in a whisper, another quiet and practiced laugh pouring from her mouth. "Though they are still worth it, I think- especially if one is to impress the ruler of all of Amun Rah, yes, Lady Vesper?"

Kailieann is seemingly prepared, though, giving her own equally practiced laugh- though hers manages to sound quite a bit more natural than the more wealthy counterpart. "There is much news to share of our homeland, sister," Kailieann touches her forehead, in a gesture of honor and mutual respect- a gesture that Lady Marrow returns. "For example, there was recently a great explosion that tore through the highest peak in all of the desert- ripping through and rearranging the landscape. There are rumors that this has the Lady of the Lake most distressed- or so her priests claim."

The magician's face is the very depiction of shock and amazement- but also conspiratorial, trust-inducing even. "It is fortunate that whatever caused this catastrophe did not occur in the capital, yes? The Rafao has already sworn revenge on whomever caused such destruction-- I pray for their souls, after our lord is done with them." She sighs most expressively.

Myalana's expression is one of utter amazement and shock- but with an air of gossip as well. However, it is not Kailieann whom she turns to next, instead- she turns toward Ord, her eyes lowered, almost desperately. She touches lightly upon his arm, drawing a look of irritation from the 'Lady Vesper'. The wealthy woman seems to lean into and almost faint into Ord's arms. "Surely the words Lady Vesper speaks cannot be true! Please, assure me, my lord de Moire, lest I faint."

Johnathan approaches closer at this impasse- his eyes glittering with mischief and intent. Just a few burns... that is all that he will need to work his diablerie upon the woman's possessions. It isn't his fault that she is so desperately in need of strong arms to fall into, after all.

[Guest]

Ord looked directly into Myalana’s eyes. Draw her in, don’t let her even suspect someone’s behind her. Ord knew that this was a crucial moment in their plot but Kaileann’s explanation was intriguing. He wondered if her answer was truthful or just for affect with the Lady Myalana. Ord wished he knew more about the cultures of the Seven Isles. He’d heard snippets from his grandfather and from his family. The merchants loved to tell stories of their travels. But he didn’t remember much, if any, about Amun Rah. This Rafao must be the king of the whole island. That’s interesting, and I’m married to his what . . .niece? Ord tried briefly to determine the connection Kaileann implied between her “mother” and the Rafao. And what’s that about a Potato farmer? Kaileann made me into a potato farmer? The least she could have done was tell me I’m a red-headed potato farmer. At least they’re famous potatoes. Ord wasn’t sure if he should feel indignant or not. He just hoped he was pulling off his impersonation successfully.

Taking his cue from the melodrama in her voice, Ord grasped Myalana’s hands in his and leaned closer. “Milady, she speaks the truth.” Ord lowered his voice as he continued. “Can you imagine the devastation? The number of people killed could have been tremendous. I could not believe it the first time I heard it. I pray that this was perhaps a natural occurrence. The idea of such power in the hands of an enemy frightens me as nothing else does. Tell me, what do you think the Rafao will do?” Ord kept his tone slightly condescending as he spoke. He wanted to treat her how she expected to be treated. Not pausing long enough for Myalana to answer, he answered his own question. “If I knew who the enemy was, “ said Ord, his voice projecting strength, “I would mobilize my country for war. The Rafao is ruler of a great people. No doubt he will make a wise decision.”

[Guest]

Myalana draws breath sharply, her body swooning elegantly in the Lord de Moire's strong grasp, her eyelids flickering like twin butterflies, shutting for only a few moments before opening once again, in a manner consistent with their closure. Her lips part, then, and she sighs heavily. "Oh, woe for my homeland -- too long have I been apart from it and now I wonder if I shall never know the tranquil sands around this mountain of sorrows..." her bosoms heave lightly, and with perhaps direct purpose. "I too hope that this phenomenon might be natural, but I fear trouble from the darkness of the world. Long has the underworld envied Anasati and Uphuron their love. Long has the romance of the sun and lake been a sore point for those who would walk dark paths." Her tone is impassioned, and it seems she is truly frightened -- a sensation further attested to by her firm grip upon Ord's arm.

As she leans in closer, her expression perhaps desperate to an extreme degree, Johnathan approaches and retreats in less than a flicker, his hands a blur as the thief moves away. It is almost thrilling, to see such calibre of ability in action. But the moment passes, and Myalana continues to express her apparently boundless sadness over the dilemma of her homeland.

"The Rafao will deal whomever to blame! He is a great man, I assure you! A great leader who will sweep apart the darkness like dust before the wind. This injustice will not go answered..." She continues like this for a brief while longer before Kailieann interrupts her with gracious and honeyed tones.

"Yes, this shall all be remedied most assuredly -- and an interesting note is that a great many adhiel have appeared en masse in the desert. The Rafao has taken them for questioning, but I have yet to receive word of what they were doing there... which does make me wonder regarding the intents of the elven people." The mage's eyes are as embers, engaging Myalana with their passion. Perhaps surprisingly, Myalana's near-hysterics draw to a close as Kailieann speaks, and it begins to appear that the wealthy woman only has tears enough for the man in the relationship, a fact comfirmed as she again looks at Lord de Moire with fear in her eyes.

"Is this also true, milord?" she asks, as the door to Ignacio's Gallery opens and closes with a swift and almost inaudible click.

[Guest]

Ord drew Myalana in, comforting the distraught woman. He allowed himself an obvious glance to her bosom though he was beginning to see through her actions. Ord smiled inwardly at the game Myalana seemed to be playing with Kaileann. Kaileann, however, probably knew the game better than she did. Something about how she spoke made Ord feel her words were true. There really had been an explosion and there really were adhiel being questioned by the Rafao. I wonder how Kaileann really feels about that. I wonder if she knows why they were really there?

Ord turned his attention back to the swooning noble woman before him. He was impressed by her acting though he was still confused as to why she behaved this way. Is she trying to get my attention? Well, she’s got it. Is she just trying to distract me from Kaileann? Ord began to get a suspicious tickle in the back of his head. He assumed the noise he heard was Johnathan exiting and he was pleased. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold the charade. Part of his really wanted to leave. . .although, the heaving bosom is nice . . .

“Alas, milady, this too is true. My beautiful wife does not spin tales of fancy. The adhiel could not have been there coincidentally. But are they friend or are they foe? This is for the Rafao to decide. Tell me, has it been so long since you’ve heard news from home? “ As he spoke, Ord looked into her eyes and tried to show an inner strength. He wanted her to see the type of man he thought she expected; strong, powerful and distracted from his wife. He hoped Kaileann would understand he was just playing his part.

[Guest]

OOC: Hello Ord, sorry for the delay. I need a bit of time on this and I will be able to contribute and move the plot forward. Please PM me if you have anything you'd like me to know.

[Guest]

OOC: No problem. Thanks for helping out Are you running this one temporarily or taking over?

[Guest]

OOC: At least for now, I'm running it. You are next on my list, so I would expect a post tonight. A Laveaux's work is never done.

[Guest]

(( OOC: Or not. ))

Myalana lets Ord hold her, her gaze only occasionally flicking up to his own, spending most of its time smiling devillishly at Kailieann, part of the foolish games that women such as the Lady Marrow enjoyed playing. Her bosoms heave even more exaggeratedly in response to the Lord de Moire's look, though she pretends not to notice it.

"It has been far too long since my homeland has sent word to me," the lady whispered, her head resting delicately upon the man's shoulder now, her arms perhaps inappropriately placed around his back. "I fear that my husband has become quite the wanderer, and even if word was sent, there is ever so little chance of it finding me. I would love to stay in one place and perhaps settle down, but it is oh so terribly impossible. If only I had a man who could stay in one place long enough to receive news, as you clearly are capable of..."

The woman allows her words to hang suggestively in the air, and behind him, Ord can almost feel the seething of Kailieann -- though whether it is real or for show is impossible to determine. Indeed, there seems to almost be an empathic link between the two women, the glee of Myalana and the irritation of the 'Lady de Moire' exchanged on a level that no man might ever comprehend.

"The adhiel are no foes, else they would have attacked us," begins Kailieann, her tone eerily saccharine and polite, considering the circumstances. "Furthermore, I don't think that--.." and it is at that point that Kailieann is interrupted by Myalana's own voice, cutting through the honeyed tones of the disguised adhiel with her own sugary-sweet commentary.

"I think that your husband has the right idea, Lady Vesper. It is the Rafao's decision, not some lesser relative of his." Another smile exchanged and a polite laugh, too -- and the situation fills with eerie tension so thick that Ord can perhaps slice it with a stiletto, had he one in his possession.

[Guest]

OOC: Welcome back.

Ord let out a contrived laugh as he gently let go of Myalana.

“My lady, you do me honor with your words.” He gave a nod to Mylana indicating his appreciation. He then turned to face both women, sighing deeply.

“The Rafao rules for a reason. Truly, the happenings of your home country are tragic and exciting on a grand scale. Were it the case that we could also lend our service to your countrymen.” Ord delivered his words as definitively as possible, hoping to end this line of conversation.

“Alas, but we are here, in King’s Court . . . .in this," he paused "lovely gallery of art.” Ord waved his hand as he spoke and his tone held just a hint of sarcasm. “Lady Myalana, you were kind enough to explain this painting to a humble potato farmer earlier. I would enjoy a further conversation on the matter, but I fear I have pressing duties to which I must return.“ Ord stepped forward to peer close at the painting, turning his back on both women as he spoke. He wanted them to know he was dismissing the situation and he hoped he wasn’t being too rude.

“Perhaps,” continued Ord, turning around sharply, “if my lovely bride is not too anxious, she could stay and continue our banter without me.” Ord smiled softly and turned toward Kaileann. “However, it would be my pleasure if she would accompany me this evening as the company I attend can be rather droll.” He then faced Myalana.

“Lady Myalana, it was truly an honor meeting your acquaintance this evening and it would be a shame for us not to meet again. Please tell me, where are you staying? I would be happy to send a messenger to arrange a second meeting should time permit during our stay at Court. Perhaps I should meet your husband as well.” Ord honeyed his words in the hope that his ruse would continue.

“My Lady Vesper, what say you? Have you more to see this evening, or do you wish to retire with me?” If she follows my lead, we should be ok. She was getting a little too riled up by the mention of the adhiel. Oh well, the best cons are believable by all.

Ord’s mind jumped quickly to the departed pickpocket. I wonder what he grabbed? Ord was confident that Johnathan had accomplished his thievery and he now wanted an exit. He was still amazed at the older man’s ability to blend so easily into the surroundings. The only indicator of his presence had been minor sounds, slightly discordant with the motions of the others in the gallery, but almost imperceptible. Ord was duly impressed.

[Maeve]

His "wife" gave him a look of reluctant understanding and came forward to put her hand on his arm. Ord couldn't fail to notice a little look of triumph in "Lady Vesper" as she claimed what was hers. "No Darling, I will be at your side. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," she said sweetly.

Lady Myalana gave him an enormous pout, putting her cherry lips forward for him to admire "Oh, for shame. Leaving me alone like this" She sighed theatratically "Yes, we simply must meet again. With your lovely wife of course." That last part sounded distinctly insincere "We are staying at the private mansion of lord Hundrion in the Voisinage d'Argent."

OOC: A little tie-over. Incredibly nice thread!

[Guest]

OOC: We’ve had fun so far.

Ord placed his hand on Lady Vespers and smiled graciously to his wife. He looked into her eyes and spoke softly. “My lady, you honor me.” He did not linger, though, and turned back to Lady Myalana.

Removing his arm from Kaileann’s he addressed the Amun Rah noblewoman. “Lady Myalana, again, you honor us. Be assured, I shall send a messenger to Lord Hundrion’s estate to arrange our next meeting. Until then, farewell in these dark times. ” He concluded his words with a slight bow.

“Come my dearest. Let us depart.” Ord held out his hand for his wife and turned toward the door of Ignacio’s gallery. He took his first steps lightly not wanting to draw Ignacio’s or his other guest’s attention. Ord did look around or move his gaze away from the door.

Keeping his breath steady he moved past the works of art on his way to an escape. Almost made it . . just keep moving . . .one step in front of the other . ..

[Grant]

Every step that drew Ord closer to the door was one plagued by the haunting suspicion that some voice of alarm might rise up behind him. While theft may or may not carry so great a penalty as it would in World's Mouth, the very thought of what might pass for a prison in King's Court in such a ragged, broken state was enough to give the young man great concern over his possible apprehension.

But no such warning came. With "Lady Vesper" on his arm, Ord regained the street. "Not so quickly, now..." murmured Kaileann, as she lead him into a narrow alley just behind the Laughing King's Tavern. This alley, like so many in the city, was filled with smaller piles of rubble and debris from the recent struggles in the city. No forms could be seen crouched or waiting within, leaving them largely alone, though the rowdy sounds of a busy inn could be heard just beyond the stone wall beside them.


Glancing back from where they came, her features suddenly melted back into the woman he had known before. "Now that wasn't so difficult, was it?" she asked with a grin. "I'm not sure what became of Johnathan, but I usually catch up with him later at the Stars. I wonder what he managed?" she finished, staring up at her companion with a lively flush of excitement.

[Guest]

Feeling the cold humidity wipe across his face, Ord felt relieved. He sighed deeply and looked around again, still not sure if they’d been followed. It would be just his luck to escape and then get cornered in an alley. His thoughts drifted to an exit route . . .down the alley, and into the inn or maybe there’s a door back here. Kaileann’s grin and her original elven features brought him back to reality.

“Milady, you were marvelous,” he said, imitating the bow that he’d teased her with earlier. Keeping his voice low, he continued, “Johnathan was incredible, I could barely hear him and I didn’t catch much more than a glimpse. I don’t think I’ve had that much fun lying in a long time. ” Again, he looked over his shoulder, the excitement of their small heist had his mind racing.

Suddenly, Ord stopped and stared into the distance. A look of bemusement slid onto his face. “I know this went well, but I just had an idea. Remind me when we get back to the Stars to bring it up again, but I wanted to tell you before I lost it.” Ord spoke more rapidly, trying to get his idea out amid his anxiety.

“Depending on what Johnathan got from Lady Myalana, it might be worth it to try for more. It’s just an idea, but Myalana really seemed to like me. We might be able to use that to our advantage. She’s the money, and we know where she’s staying, right? I wonder if we could convince her to fund some bigger business ventures, if it were the right price . . . and the right man.” Ord winked as he completed his idea. “I’m probably ahead of myself here, but . . . there may be an even better opportunity.”

An imaginary sound in the alley pulled Ord back into his precarious situation. He’d just been part of a plot to rob a noble and here he was babbling about grand ideas again. There’s plenty of time to go over this at the Stars, what am I doing?

“We should go, don’t you think? I do not want be this close to the gallery when she finds out something’s missing.” Ord offered his arm to Kaileann and turned to leave down the alley. In the rain, mud and gloom, the thoughts of the room he’d earned. . . well we’ll see . . . warmed him thoroughly.

[Grant]

Kaileann cast a broad smile at her new accomplice after he spoke. "Why, perhaps you're right, milord! In fact, would we not give ourselves just such an opportunity were we to return immediately, upset that we only just lost our purses?" responded the woman, glancing back down the street towards the gallery. "Such a coup would require a second appearance of the infamous couple. Do you have it in you? We must act...suitably upset, and accuse everyone in sight of the theft. With any luck, we'll declare ourselves robbed before they've even noticed, and that would set us up nicely for your...next caper," she finished, watching Ord for his reaction.

Somewhere nearby, the muffled roar of numerous voices lifted in laughter invaded the alley as the patrons of the Laughing King responded to some wit or another. The alley remained clear, and there was no sign yet of any reaction from the gallery just down the way.

[Guest]

Ord knew he had to think fast. The Lady Myalana could notice her missing items at any moment. Should he go back in or walk away with the reward in hand? Kaileann’s idea made sense but something about it stung him as too reactionary. Pausing to take a deep breath, Ord closed his eyes and massaged his forehead with his thumb and index finger.

Through his concentration he spoke. “Yes, your idea may work but let’s think this through before we return. I know time is short so I’ll hurry. Do you think we should blame everyone or go straight to Ignacio? He’s still in there with those armed guards. Acting upset won’t be too hard. Just pretend they made you kiss an Orc,” continued Ord, a sly smile returning to his face. Yes, he like the idea.

“So we claim we’re robbed, Myalana notices she’s robbed and then what. . .” mumbled Ord. His voice trailed as he worked out the scenario in his head. Ord’s head bobbed in sync with his words until he at last had a solution he was pleased with. “At the least, we’ll be able to commiserate. At best, she’ll trust us as a fellow victim. We’ll see how it goes, but this just might work.”

“I’m still not sure how exactly we take her for more though. I may need your help. My knowledge of the world of the nobles is slim, but I’m wondering if she might be interested in securing a shipment of special Dortian potatoes? Or is there something . . . you mentioned the Eastern Sands Trading Company. . .we could entice her with?”

“Regardless, we can work out it along the way. I say, let’s go for it. Work your magic again mistress Vesper. That is of course unless you have any concerns. We can always walk away with the prize in hand. “

[Grant]

"Yes, you're right..." responded the lithe woman. "It would be best were we to take our...complaint...directly to Ignacio. Very good idea. As for our next scam, we should have some time to set it up, but a deal with the Eastern Sands Trade Company is certainly very possible. There's so many fat merchants involved with that monster that our names couldn't be denied for an entire season even if they knew to check for them," she rationed, as she placed her delicate hands upon Ord's shoulders to turn him to face her squarely.

Once more, she deftly moved her hands to call up whatever unseen power she had to manufacture their disguise. As she did this, one of her hands never left Ord's shoulder, her hand gripping his shirt in a fist of concentration before she completed her casting, her true form obscuring behind an illusion of an olive-skinned beauty from the distant desert nation.

"Ok. We're all set. Perhaps we might drop word of needing additional funds from the Company dividends...that should draw her into a conversation we'd want? Let's go..." she said, taking up Ord's arm and steering him towards the gallery once more.

[Guest]

The sudden change in Kaileann again astonished Ord. If he hadn’t seen it himself, he probably wouldn’t believe it. His mind, though, did not dwell on her arcane power long. Ord was about to return to the scene of his crime. When he should be fleeing and counting his money in a safe inn somewhere, he was going back into a room filled with guards and a woman, a noble no less, who he’d just robbed. He’d come to King’s Court to start over and yet, here he was, committing himself further to someone else’s cause. Yes, it was a worthy cause, but he did not know it intimately. Maybe this magick is doing something to my common sense.

Approaching the gallery, his once again “wife” on his arm, Ord fought the trepidation climbing his spine. His intuition was shouting wildly to turn back. Facing the famed gallery, the paned door once more invited Ord into the maw of danger. Am I really this dumb?

He took a deep breath and wiped the rain off his brow. He realized he was being melodramatic when the situation required focus. Ord gave himself a quick mental kick. This was not how to prepare. He slowly steered his mind back toward the task.

Ord shot his “wife” a quick smile, his confidence rushing into to replace his anxiety. “Let us return, Lady Vesper. We have a terrible dilemma to resolve. It seems my purse has gone missing.” Ord did a double take to make sure that with their magical disguises, his purse or even a purse was visible anywhere on their outfits.

Taking Kaileann’s hand, Ord shifted his visage to one of irritation. He opened the gallery door and headed for Ignacio. The art dealer had a very irate noble on his hands.

[Grant]

Ducking into the gallery once more, Ord found the place unchanged from when he had entered such a short time ago. Austere to the point of almost being gaudy, the interior might have worked as well for a high-class brothel as well as a gallery, with plush velvets and marble pedestals decorating any free corner or any open space that was not immediately underfoot.

At the far end of the gallery, Myalana and her husband considered several pieces upon the wall, though the curvaceous woman's eyes had wondered to consider several almost indecent statuettes that dominated a round table at one corner. Ignacio himself looked on as they inspected the pieces, though his eyes turned to see who had entered, and he quickly shuffled over to greet them once more.

"Ah, Lord de Moire, Lady Vesper, you've returned! How grand! Perhaps you've come to make a purchase, by chance? Or to arrange a delivery? I can be of assistance in either case, I assure you..." he said, his pleasant tone drawing the attention of several eyes in the gallery, namely Myalana who turned fully to see the two standing in the foyer once more.

[Guest]

“Master Ignacio,” started Ord, his tone icy and direct. “Forgive me for being brusque, but I have a dilemma I am hoping you can help me resolve.” Ord stood tall with Kaileann slightly behind on his right. He was trying his best to portray his idea of controlled fury. As before, confidence and believability were key to success.

“I will be brief. Prior to entering your establishment, I was in possession of my purse. Upon exit, I find I am not. I am sure you understand my concern," declared Ord. Spreading his fingers, he sighed and continued. "I pray, that in my clumsiness, I merely dropped it your gallery. But, neither I nor my wife remember hearing such a sound. I have seen no other human, adhiel or giant for that matter in the last few burns other than in this gallery. Have you, or your guests,” said Ord waving toward Lady Myalana and her husband, “perchance found my purse?” Ord let the simple movement of raising his eyebrow punctuate his captious question.