• Mature • Impasse

[Kasoria]

"Well, glad we bought the whole mov wiv' us. Plenty a' room."

"No-one likes a sarky bastard, Kas."

Kasoria's response was just a smirk even wider. The pampered noble had come a long way since they'd first met on ship from Foster's Landing. Now he was throwing around naughty language and - more importantly - delivering it to a man he'd have been terrified to even look at two arcs ago. With a taper of ragweed between his lips no less.

"That said," Manclin finished the smoke and ground it out between one heel, then went back to staring up at the frankly bizarre building ahead of them. "It looks like it'll have room for us... but certainly not all in one place."

There was an amused grunt from Mikiros, for whom that would apply more than any of them. The Scalvoris Council Halls weren't so much a building, but a complexof them, all connected via walkways and bridges and hallways open to the world. All of which was built across an ever larger bridge spanning a rushing river, large and broad enough to have ships passing under the arches that supported it. From where they stood they could see some of the chambers were large and imposing, sprouting like mushrooms above the brickwork. Others were smaller, almost intimate, able to fit half the number of the others.

Bigger the nob, bigger the hall. Always a decent guess for shite like this.

"Which one's the Albrecht in?"

"Albarech," Manclin corrected, straightening his clothes. "And I am unsure. But I know we have a meeting, and this is, as they say, the big one."

Kasoria's eyes shot up to his forehead. He turned and shared the look with Vaul, who made a face. Raand rolled his eyes. Belial made a gesture with one hand. Mikiros just rumbled a laugh and Ophelia... well, there was the odd one out. Kasoria's eyes rested longer on her. The ole woman in The Band, the guard company for the Etzori delegation. The six of them formed a rough circle around the fourteen scribes, clerks, translators, and one somewhat nervous diplomat. Kasoria was at the front of the pack, next to Manclin. The rest of his killers and warriors (it really depended on the day) were set about the robed civilians, like sheep dogs around the flock. All of them bright-eyed and with stoned blades.

But the girl was... elsewhere. This was personal for her, this place. Behind the glamor she projected, he could almost see the face of Maxine. Still wrestling with the guilt of what she'd done to this place, and now the helplessness of having to view it all from ironically anonymous security. He sympathized, he di. He knew much about loss, regret, and that unwanted, unbidden fucking voice trying to make you pay for it... but they were on the fucking clock, so-

He cleared his throat and that snapped her out of it, for the moment. If Manclin or anyone else noticed his near-silent little remonstration, they gave no hint of showing it. Instead the ambassador from the High Council merely took a deep breath, huffed it out, and squared his shoulders.

"Right. Let's bang it out, eh?"

Kasoria just chuckled as they started to stride towards the main entrance, and the guards without.

"Been hangin' 'roiund Oh'Pee scrotes too long, yer grace. What'd yer teachers say?"

"Don't bugger it up, probably."

[Max]

Fuck.

The thought was as concise as the audible exhale that accompanied it. Maxine’s eyes were bloodshot but alcohol didn’t linger on her flesh in the morning light. Ambrosia didn’t cling to her clothes and hair, and the tracks on her arms were fading. Her feet ached from pacing her sentry starting at sunset, and long through the night until the sun rose when she was relieved to her own quarters.

Then the bell tolled. The new trial had arrived and as much as she squirmed within the grasp of her reality, she’d prepared for all that came with it.

The warmth of the inn bath was basked in for longer than she would normally permit, as though such soothing waters would never cleanse her skin again. Her raven hair, grown long in the arcs she was absent this island, was clean and worked into a tight braid. Her boots were laced firmly. A dark cloak was donned. Her waist was light despite the wolf’s jaw she was about to waltz into. With a steadying sigh the final touch: the ring that traded the appearance of the infamous, cursed Rusalka to that of unassuming Ophelia. Her mask was set.

Okay then.

Just another Etzori sword, she fell in among Kasoria’s band, the delegates, and their servants. The brains of the expedition went over their notes and talking points, strategizing how to smooze the powers-that-be here. Her utensils rearranged the small breakfast on her plate. The mercenaries spat vulgar but good-fun insults, and told favored stories of soldiers long dead and a common life well understood by their ilk. She just existed through all of it. As much as she tried to practice presence, she found herself trapped in the gossamer of the unknown that laid ahead.

How thrilling.

How terrible.

Then it was over. Breakfast ended and they were on the move. Her boots felt heavy with every step of this march. Mikiros, the behemoth, smiled down at her. She smiled back but it faded when she saw something different in his eyes than the trial before. Max turned from him, eyes on their surroundings and her brow furrowed.

Probably nothing.

"Helluva building,” Vaul remarked with a whistle as they approached their destination. "Important wankers inside that one.” He pulled his lip from his teeth and packed tobacco thick. "Fuck, I hate all the talking.”

"’Cause you aren’t the talker?” Belial asked with a teasing brow raised.

"Aye, whaddif?” Vaul let his mouth settle over his vice. "Not dat I got a silver tongue like you. Say, think y’can sweet talk the broad? If she’s anythin’ like the usual Belly tail, you’ll ‘ave this meetin’ done ‘fore dinner.”

"Ain’t no one talking,” Raand reminded The Band sternly while Kasoria walked ahead with Manclin. "Job’s to stand ready and look tough as the meat the mamas fed you as a kid in Oh’Pee. We all know the role by now.”

Mikiros hummed some sort of affirmative that backed Raand’s assessment. Vaul rolled his eyes and Belly snickered. The group paused and Kasoria had some sort of exchange with Manclin. Maxine’s ears were deaf to whatever it was. Her eyes stared at the opened maw of the entrance to the hall. Her skin bristled at the Elements solemnly flanking it where they stood watch.

Kasoria cleared his throat and Max snapped her eyes to his. Her jaw tightened and she nodded. She knew what he would’ve said had he pulled her aside to say what his meager gesture did.

”Steady now, girl. Past is past, and yer future ain’t certain, y’ken? Now fall in line and focus on what’s in front of ye.”

The hypothetical pep talk was enough. She stood a little straighter for now. She forced her muscles to relax.

Inhale. Exhale.

"What d’ya say, Ophelia?” It was Vaul of course never to let a thing go. "Over under our Belly here could charm the knickers off and get us to cards before noon?”

"I say when you’ve seen a century, mouthy swords are just tiresome.” She glanced to see Vaul’s mirth turn to a frown. "Best to keep quiet and let the natural order of things play.”

Manclin gave pause at her words. He looked at her for a few quiet moments and pressed his lips together, almost as though there was something he forbid himself to say right then. Then he turned back to Kasoria and his expression smoothed back over to that of the Etzori politician with something to offer.

The entire Delegation oriented themselves toward the council halls and steeled themselves toward task. She ground her jaw. Moving toward the Elements and into this place was inevitable. No one would recognize her for what she was. The ring hid her identity well. Her scarred and fierce features were blanketed with the painfully ordinary visage of the Ophelia character she took on. Still her mind went to the dagger: the only weapon she had secreted in a pocket.

After a quip, Kasoria and Manclin marched them toward destiny. Her expression was stoic but she felt heavy behind her mask, adrenalized.

Mikiros and Raand fell in on either side of her. The shadow of the giant mute fell over her, his stature dwarfing her. Raand’s stoicism seemed harder. His eyes avoided her. She’d spent many late nights playing cards with Miki just because he enjoyed it. Raand had become an unlikely confidant. She’d fought beside this band of misfits and spilled blood in the same service.

So why did she quiver with the shiver that just ran down her spine when they flanked her now?

"What is it, wee monster?” Raand asked her with a pause, using that nickname The Band had given her before this journey began. Before they truly knew. "We have to maintain rear guard.”

Mikiros and Raand had paused just behind Max at either side. Distance grew between them and the rest of the group as they walked through the doors. She was pale and eyes staring, distant. Mikiros signed to Kasoria’s second behind her back. Both of them seemed to shift their weight, bodies tense despite Raand’s coaxing, gentle disposition when he spoke to her.

"I’m afraid,” Maxine’s voice murmured just loud enough for them to hear, dejected and detached.

Kasoria, Manclin, and the rest of the Delegation proceeded on. Miki looked over the frozen woman at Raand. Raand held his gaze, and quietly dipped his hand into the satchel that hung off his shoulder. His skin prickled when his fingertips touched the cold metal.

[Kura Wolfsdotter]

Kura looked up as she got word that there were visitors for her, then nodded. "Go ahead and send them in." she said, her tone calm. When the Etzori delegation were shown to her office, they might be surprised to find that it would have been hard to pick out. There wasn't any special significance to its placement, instead being just another office in a hallway of offices, and while it was big enough to comfortably fit a few people sitting down and still have enough room for assistants to move around if need be, it wasn't especially big. If they had brought all of Kasoria's men, for instance, it wouldn't have held them all. This was largely because it had been just a random office once upon a time. When Kura had become Scalvoris's first head of Foreign Affairs, the role hadn't existed until she had suggested it and been given the position, so she had just picked out one of the spare offices for her own use. When she had been promoted to Albarech, she had just kept the same office rather than bother anyone with moving her stuff around.

In fact, there were only three things that made Kura's office stand out. The first two were the animals in the office, the first being a large spotted owl that was perched next to an open window. Speck regarded the visitors for a moment, then tucked her head back under her wing and went to sleep. The second animal was the very much larger than usual black wolf that stretched out in front of the currently cold fireplace without so much as a care in the world. If it wasn't for Phelan's sheer size, or the fact wolves didn't really look all that much like dogs, it would have been easy to confuse him for a regular house pet, given he seemed to be entirely asleep. However, the last thing in the room that made it stand out was the Albarech herself. Kura was working when they came in and took a moment to finish her sentence before she put her pen whatever paper she was signing aside before looking up at the Etzori delegation.

At first, Kura looked young, perhaps too young to be in her position, maybe twenty-four, perhaps twenty-five at the oldest. That lasted right up until they met her eyes, which were what gave it away. Kura's eyes, currently their usual icy blue as no one had riled up her temper yet that day, belonged to someone much older than she appeared to be. They were the eyes of someone who lived a long time and been very active during that long life. Moreover, there was a sharpness to them, a sense of the same kind of patience and watchfulness that one might see in a hunting animal. That soon faded into the rest of her body language though, as she smiled and leaned back in her chair, gesturing Kasoria and Manclin to the chairs in front of the desk. "You must be the delegation from Etzos. I'd heard you were comin', please take a seat. I'm Kura Wolfsdotter, the Albarech." she said, her tone cheerful. "So, what brings out to Scalvoris?" she asked, her tone curious, but there was a sharp intent behind it, showing it wasn't just an idle question.

[Max]

Fuck.

The thought was as concise as the audible exhale that accompanied it. Maxine’s eyes were bloodshot but alcohol didn’t linger on her flesh in the morning light. Ambrosia didn’t cling to her clothes and hair, and the tracks on her arms were fading. Her feet ached from pacing her sentry starting at sunset, and long through the night until the sun rose when she was relieved to her own quarters.

Then the bell tolled. The new trial had arrived and as much as she squirmed within the grasp of her reality, she’d prepared for all that came with it.

The warmth of the inn bath was basked in for longer than she would normally permit, as though such soothing waters would never cleanse her skin again. Her raven hair, grown long in the arcs she was absent this island, was clean and worked into a tight braid. Her boots were laced firmly. A dark cloak was donned. Her waist was light despite the wolf’s jaw she was about to waltz into. With a steadying sigh the final touch: the ring that traded the appearance of the infamous, cursed Rusalka to that of unassuming Ophelia. Her mask was set.

Okay then.

Just another Etzori sword, she fell in among Kasoria’s band, the delegates, and their servants. The brains of the expedition went over their notes and talking points, strategizing how to smooze the powers-that-be here. Her utensils rearranged the small breakfast on her plate. The mercenaries spat vulgar but good-fun insults, and told favored stories of soldiers long dead and a common life well understood by their ilk. She just existed through all of it. As much as she tried to practice presence, she found herself trapped in the gossamer of the unknown that laid ahead.

How thrilling.

How terrible.

Then it was over. Breakfast ended and they were on the move. Her boots felt heavy with every step of this march. Mikiros, the behemoth, smiled down at her. She smiled back but it faded when she saw something different in his eyes than the trial before. Max turned from him, eyes on their surroundings and her brow furrowed.

Probably nothing.

"Helluva building,” Vaul remarked with a whistle as they approached their destination. "Important wankers inside that one.” He pulled his lip from his teeth and packed tobacco thick. "Fuck, I hate all the talking.”

"’Cause you aren’t the talker?” Belial asked with a teasing brow raised.

"Aye, whaddif?” Vaul let his mouth settle over his vice. "Not dat I got a silver tongue like you. Say, think y’can sweet talk the broad? If she’s anythin’ like the usual Belly tail, you’ll ‘ave this meetin’ done ‘fore dinner.”

"Ain’t no one talking,” Raand reminded The Band sternly while Kasoria walked ahead with Manclin. "Job’s to stand ready and look tough as the meat the mamas fed you as a kid in Oh’Pee. We all know the role by now.”

Mikiros hummed some sort of affirmative that backed Raand’s assessment. Vaul rolled his eyes and Belly snickered. The group paused and Kasoria had some sort of exchange with Manclin. Maxine’s ears were deaf to whatever it was. Her eyes stared at the opened maw of the entrance to the hall. Her skin bristled at the Elements solemnly flanking it where they stood watch.

Kasoria cleared his throat and Max snapped her eyes to his. Her jaw tightened and she nodded. She knew what he would’ve said had he pulled her aside to say what his meager gesture did.

”Steady now, girl. Past is past, and yer future ain’t certain, y’ken? Now fall in line and focus on what’s in front of ye.”

The hypothetical pep talk was enough. She stood a little straighter for now. She forced her muscles to relax.

Inhale. Exhale.

"What d’ya say, Ophelia?” It was Vaul of course never to let a thing go. "Over under our Belly here could charm the knickers off and get us to cards before noon?”

"I say when you’ve seen a century, mouthy swords are just tiresome.” She glanced to see Vaul’s mirth turn to a frown. "Best to keep quiet and let the natural order of things play.”

Manclin gave pause at her words. He looked at her for a few quiet moments and pressed his lips together, almost as though there was something he forbid himself to say right then. Then he turned back to Kasoria and his expression smoothed back over to that of the Etzori politician with something to offer.

The entire Delegation oriented themselves toward the council halls and steeled themselves toward task. She ground her jaw. Moving toward the Elements and into this place was inevitable. No one would recognize her for what she was. The ring hid her identity well. Her scarred and fierce features were blanketed with the painfully ordinary visage of the Ophelia character she took on. Still her mind went to the dagger: the only weapon she had secreted in a pocket.

After a quip, Kasoria and Manclin marched them toward destiny. Her expression was stoic but she felt heavy behind her mask, adrenalized.

Mikiros and Raand fell in on either side of her. The shadow of the giant mute fell over her, his stature dwarfing her. Raand’s stoicism seemed harder. His eyes avoided her. She’d spent many late nights playing cards with Miki just because he enjoyed it. Raand had become an unlikely confidant. She’d fought beside this band of misfits and spilled blood in the same service.

So why did she quiver with the shiver that just ran down her spine when they flanked her now?

"What is it, wee monster?” Raand asked her with a pause, using that nickname The Band had given her before this journey began. Before they truly knew. "We have to maintain rear guard.”

Mikiros and Raand had paused just behind Max at either side. Distance grew between them and the rest of the group as they walked through the doors. She was pale and eyes staring, distant. Mikiros signed to Kasoria’s second behind her back. Both of them seemed to shift their weight, bodies tense despite Raand’s coaxing, gentle disposition when he spoke to her.

"I’m afraid,” Maxine’s voice murmured just loud enough for them to hear, dejected and detached.

Kasoria, Manclin, and the rest of the Delegation proceeded on. Miki looked over the frozen woman at Raand. Raand held his gaze, and quietly dipped his hand into the satchel that hung off his shoulder. His skin prickled when his fingertips touched the cold metal.

[Kura Wolfsdotter]

Kura looked up as she got word that there were visitors for her, then nodded. "Go ahead and send them in." she said, her tone calm. When the Etzori delegation were shown to her office, they might be surprised to find that it would have been hard to pick out. There wasn't any special significance to its placement, instead being just another office in a hallway of offices, and while it was big enough to comfortably fit a few people sitting down and still have enough room for assistants to move around if need be, it wasn't especially big. If they had brought all of Kasoria's men, for instance, it wouldn't have held them all. This was largely because it had been just a random office once upon a time. When Kura had become Scalvoris's first head of Foreign Affairs, the role hadn't existed until she had suggested it and been given the position, so she had just picked out one of the spare offices for her own use. When she had been promoted to Albarech, she had just kept the same office rather than bother anyone with moving her stuff around.

In fact, there were only three things that made Kura's office stand out. The first two were the animals in the office, the first being a large spotted owl that was perched next to an open window. Speck regarded the visitors for a moment, then tucked her head back under her wing and went to sleep. The second animal was the very much larger than usual black wolf that stretched out in front of the currently cold fireplace without so much as a care in the world. If it wasn't for Phelan's sheer size, or the fact wolves didn't really look all that much like dogs, it would have been easy to confuse him for a regular house pet, given he seemed to be entirely asleep. However, the last thing in the room that made it stand out was the Albarech herself. Kura was working when they came in and took a moment to finish her sentence before she put her pen whatever paper she was signing aside before looking up at the Etzori delegation.

At first, Kura looked young, perhaps too young to be in her position, maybe twenty-four, perhaps twenty-five at the oldest. That lasted right up until they met her eyes, which were what gave it away. Kura's eyes, currently their usual icy blue as no one had riled up her temper yet that day, belonged to someone much older than she appeared to be. They were the eyes of someone who lived a long time and been very active during that long life. Moreover, there was a sharpness to them, a sense of the same kind of patience and watchfulness that one might see in a hunting animal. That soon faded into the rest of her body language though, as she smiled and leaned back in her chair, gesturing Kasoria and Manclin to the chairs in front of the desk. "You must be the delegation from Etzos. I'd heard you were comin', please take a seat. I'm Kura Wolfsdotter, the Albarech." she said, her tone cheerful. "So, what brings out to Scalvoris?" she asked, her tone curious, but there was a sharp intent behind it, showing it wasn't just an idle question.

[Kasoria]

It's just another meeting. You've sat in dozens of them. Scores. So find your spot and skin your peelers and-

Kasoria blinked as a wolf bigger than him raised its shaggy head lazily from the rug. It regarded him regally with yellow eyes, all animal curiosity without a shred of empathy, then decided he wasn't worth getting up for. At least he warranted a look: the owl didn't even peek from under its wing. Fagan Manclin stiffed as they entered the sparse room, clearly thinking the same thing, but brushing past it was a politician's smoothness.

"Ah! You are the Albarech, I see."

A slight change in tone would have made that int a question; the nearness of the one he actually used let the implication hang without being insulting. Kasoria could understand why: the woman looked barely older than his son. Smooth-skinned and without scars, the vitality of youth shone from her. Every person of command and control he'd met so far had at least forty or fifty arcs to them; took that long just to get the knack for wielding power, or gaining it in the first place. This woman, well... girl seemed more accurate to him.

That held true until he saw her eyes. They were hard. Toughened by experience and pain and loss to the point they seemed utterly, eerily out of place in her. Kasoria frowned minutely but without scowling; his place was to watch and guard, not cause trouble. He'd seen eyes like that before. In Llyr. In Oberan. In Woe. Mortal-spawned all, capable of living far longer than mortal men. Kasoria didn't even know how long the could live, but he knew those eyes. They were those of crones and old men, who had seen much and given plenty, set in the faces of those looking ready to start into the world.

He resisted the urge to sigh. Everywhere he went in this world, he had to deal with the fucking Morties. If not them, then their brats. Wonderful.

Hence our current issue.

Focus.

"You must be the delegation from Etzos. I'd heard you were comin', please take a seat. I'm Kura Wolfsdotter, the Albarech."

Manclin thanked her and did as bid. Kasoria did likewise, but was careful to push his seat back a bit more from the desk. Giving him the ability to kick it back and be on his feet in an instant, ideally with his sword already in hand. Kura gave no indication he'd need to, though. He voice was pleasant, welcoming; Manclin could have learned some things from her. But what did he expect, from one who had lifetimes to master a talent?

"So, what brings out to Scalvoris?"

"The welfare of Etzos, as simply as I can put it," said Fagan Manclin, spreading his hands and shrugging lightly. "Although I will admit seeing more of Idalos has been... quite the experience." A range of emotions crossed his eyes when he paused. Wonder. Joy. Horror. Shock. He'd been a sheltered lad when he left Etzos. He'd also not been a killer. But it didn't take long for him to get back on topic. "We have been making a grand parade across this vast continent, from Yaralon and Korlsalir and Viden. Everywhere we go, we have tried to forge alliances, make deals... let the world know that Etzos, while wounded, is still open for trade... and more besides."

By now, Kasoria had plenty of experience in Manclin's pitch. The man was a seller, not just a diplomat. Whether it be trading rights or migrations quotas or shipping fees, he found a deal, like all Etzori. They were a mercantile people, after all. He trusted his instincts and his abilities, so they allowed him not to focus too much on the words, and on the room instead. As the diplomat talked, the sellsword studied every inch of it with his whole-black eyes. Looking for seams that may indicate a hidden wall set into a door. Runes or glyphs carved into wood or stone. But the only possible threat he could see was that wolf... and the wolf mother, apparently.

So just keep quiet and let the nob talk. It's just another meeting.

Kasoria's gloved hand clenched into a brief fist as the thought made his eye twitch. Then the feeling was gone, and his face was impassive again.

[Max]

Shock was likely common when strangers to this land and its leader entered this office. More likely, The Owl probably fully expected it. Surprise flit across Manclin’s face only briefly since he sat down. His expression was intentionally pleasant and tension eased from his body once he was confident neither animal familiar intended to maul him just yet. In the pauses in his speech he glanced about his surroundings with soft eyes that somehow seemed to be ticking off inventory where it was expected to be, not itemizing it for the first time like Kasoria was.

He smiled. The room was impressive in its blend of messaging. Compared to the other halls, offices, and rooms they passed, the business quarters of the island’s head were the least imposing or regal. It’s placement felt forgotten about. Even if repurposed, besides the creatures dwelling inside, it lacked a materialistic element diplomats elsewhere had flaunted to project real or imagined wealth. The decorations it did have felt like they had a touch of the “old world.”

And was that a hint of tobacco he detected? He supposed it was just as likely a cologne that clung to his most valued protector seated beside him.

”I think it known that the war with Rhakros and horrors inflicted upon Etzos by Lisirra and Sintra took quite a toll on us,” Manclin continued carefully, watching Kura’s reaction. ”This expedition of sorts by this Delegation is as risky as it is necessary…”

Manclin leaned back in his chair. He glanced toward Kasoria and then continued his path, committing his full attention to the Albarech.

”Your island has been a gracious host. Though, I think it not a secret across Idalos that Scalvoris has deep ties to Immortals, your very position here an example, and Etzos is quite famously an enemy to those same powers and attitudes. Our very history was built upon rebuking the Immortals after all, and more recent past did not soften those attitudes.”

Manclin’s tone was even. Whatever his own thoughts and perspectives were on the topic of Immortals, he did not let it color his words while he presented his case for his country.

”The war and devastation wrought on our city has forced us into a position where diplomacy and certain…tolerances…are not only advantageous but necessary. We come with an open mind and hope you might be capable of the same. Our nations may be friends yet, or at the very least, of mutual benefit to one another. But! Words are wind and we Etzori are people of action.”

He raised his hand and inclined his head briefly toward the door. His fingers snapped but once and the doors whined open on their hinges in one, sweeping shove. He opened his palms, making a point to remain seated, and regarded Kura with an even stare.

”We come with a gift, a show of good faith before we conduct our talks…”

The sound of chains scraping the floor broke the established mood of decorum. Mikiros, hulking and and stone-faced, lumbered into the room with Raand, equally tense, as his partner. They escorted the shackled prisoner donning a dark cloak between them. The chain-singing shuffle came to an abrupt pause when Manclin raised a hand, warding them from encroaching too far into the room.

”It’s our understanding your people have faced senseless tragedy, too,” Manclin commiserated earnestly. ”We give you your fugitive.”

Raand tugged the hood off the prisoner’s head. The ring that granted the false disguise that was her Ophelia alias was gone. Maxine remained, blinking against the light before her eyes settled on the interior of the office she was summoned to. Her visage was stoic and eyes sharp but neutral. Her black eyes raised to find Kura. But that was all.

The prisoner’s clothes were common, bearing no sigil or indication of allegiance or service. She was clean. Though perhaps the thing of most note to the Albarech that once knew this wretch was this: the familiar scent of Ambrosia did not cling to Maxine. The blue of Katomise dimmed from her veins. Her eyes, sharp and vigilant, were clear of pupil dilation or redness. Not even a whiff of alcohol bled from her pores.

”I trust you, or your people, will decide her fate and seek your justice however you see fit. We hope this show of friendship is found pleasing.”

Raand and Mikiros held their ends of the chains tightly, as though at any point it all might go to hell. Their attention was steadfast on reading the every movement of the prisoner they commanded for the moment.

[Kura Wolfsdotter]

Kura did catch the brief frown on Kasoria's face, but didn't react to it. Whether it was Etzori prejudice or the attentiveness of a bodyguard, such a reaction was to be expected. If not to her, then to the massive wolf laying on her floor. She did, however, smile slightly when she saw Kasoria keep his chair a bit farther back than Manclin. It was an expression of approval, that he was taking appropriate care to keep his charge safe. Not that she had any intention of doing harm to Manclin, but it was never wise to assume that a place was completely safe, especially a place that had seen as much strife and upheavel as Scalvoris had over its lifetime. Still, he was not the one that was going to be doing the talking for this meeting, it seemed, and Kura turned her attention to Manclin as he talked about the trip he'd taken around Idalos.

"You've made quite a journey, it seems. One that's had it's share of trouble, as well. Hopefully your stay here is a peaceful one." she said, her tone calm, but there was a sincerity to her statement. It wasn't just a bit of political politeness, she genuinely wanted their time in Scalvoris to be calm and restful. Meanwhile, Kasoria wouldn't be able to find any signs of hidden doors, magical traps, or any other such things in Kura's office. It really did seem to be just an office, modestly sized for the role of its owner, and utterly ordinary. Well, barring the occupants, but he had already made note of the wolf and the Mortalborn. Kura, meanwhile, didn't seem to be worried about his scanning of her office and seemed to be entirely focused on Manclin.

Kura did wince slightly when Manclin brought up Etzos's troubles after the war with Rhakros and their problems with Lisirra and Sintra. "I'd heard, though with the distance between us it did take time before I'd heard any concrete news. Plenty of rumors, of course, but I am sorry to hear of the troubles your people have had. I can understand both the risk and the need for such a journey. I had to make a similar one myself to forge alliances for Scalvoris durin' a time when we were similarly vulnerable, though I admittedly focused on establishin' or reinforcin' alliances with our closer neighbors." she said, her tone sympathetic to both the plight of the Etzori and Manclin's journey.

When Manclin spoke of Scalvoris's connections to the Immortals, there was a brief flicker of annoyance across her expression when he brought up position in relation to the ties between Scalvoris and the Immortals, almost as if the Immortals were responsible for her position as the Albarech of Scalvoris. It was only brief, however, and she nodded when he mentioned that Etzos had been built upon the rebuking of the Immortals. "Some Immortals are well deserving of rebuke. If Scalvoris were situated between the holdin's of the Plague Lord and the Great Flame, we'd likely be far more critical of the Immortals as a whole. Even then, we've had conflict with both Audrae and Chrien in our time." she said, her tone calm and holding no judgement of the Etzori stance on the Immortals.

She did, however, give a slightly amused smile at the pause when he brought up certain tolerances being advantageous to Etzos. But when he said that Etzori preferred actions to words, she waited as he had a prisoner brought before her, raising one eyebrow at the sight. Etzos and Scalvoris were separated by an entire continent and a mass of ocean, so Kura's first thought was Manclin had missed a bit of Scalvonite law and was offering her a slave. But then he brought up that Scalvoris had seen its own share of tragedy and took off the cloak to reveal Maxine. Kura sucked in a breath of surprise at the sight and looked Maxine over as Manclin made his last statement regarding the Maxine.

Maxine was healthier than she had been when Kura had least seen her. There was no sign of her old vices, either by sight or by scent. She had, it appeared, done an impressive job at cleaning herself up. Maxine, likewise, would notice some differences about Kura. Signs of new Blessings and Phelan being significantly bigger than he had been when they last met were the most obvious changes, and the least profound. Before, there had always been a guarded quality about Kura, a sense that she was keeping everyone around her at arms length and going to some pains to hold herself aloof from most people, as well as a sense that she sometimes considered regular Mortals to be somewhat akin to children. All of that was gone now, and Kura's expressions and body language were more open, showing more of who she really was, as well as that she fully considered everyone in the room to be an equal to her, at least in terms of being adults. Despite that, however, she wasn't really more vulnerable. Her intelligence and instincts were also more apparent and less clouded than they had been when she'd been lying to herself and trying to hide them, as if by lowering her shields, she'd exposed the blade it had concealed.

As Manclin finished his statement, a number of thoughts crossed Kura's mind and showed in her expression, and both Kasoria and Maxine were observant enough to catch them. The first was surprise that Maxine was alive, then happiness that not only was she alive, she appeared to be healthier. Then a note of concern, that Kura wouldn't be able to get her out of trouble this time, something she had done a few times for Maxine in the past. Then, right as Maclin finished his statement, a note of confusion, as if she were questioning how they had caught her. That continued into another note of confusion as to how Manclin, a delegate from far off Etzos, had known that Maxine was wanted in Scalvoris. That immediately tightened into a solid core of suspicion as her eyes lightened ever so slightly, something Maxine would recognize as a sign that Kura's temper had been roused, as Kura's eyes turned gold when she was truly angry.

All this was in the time span it took Manclin to say two fairly short sentences and less observant people likely wouldn't notice any of it, as she had her expressions back under control rather quickly and she learned forward attentively as her attention focused back onto Manclin. "I see. We have been missin' her." she said, before turning her attention back to Maxine for a moment. "I am glad to see you're alive. And to ease some concerns, Slag's Deep is no longer in operations. Or, for that matter, particularly extant." she said, her tone calm. Then she turned her attention back to Manclin. "I must admit that I'm curious. How did you know we were lookin' for her? And how did you manage to catch her? Maxine was plenty dangerous when she worked for me, and I can't imagine she's any less so now." she said, her tone showing a genuine curiosity, but there was an intent undercurrent to it. She was placing a great deal of importance on how Manclin answered that question, and she likely wouldn't take accept a vague answer either.

[Kasoria]

Manclin knew that even when you had a plan, thorough and practiced, there were still plenty of ways for you to fuck it. It stacked the deck in your favor, to be sure, plotting things out and taking into account counters and obstacles. But life had a not-so-funny way of bending you over even when you tried to prepare for it. He knew there would be questions. Suspicion. Disbelief. Possibly even outright refusal to believe their story.

But Manclin knew they had two big advantages. The first, was that the reality, the truth, the unfolding of actual events... well, that was too unbelievable and improbable for anyone to believe. They'd rather pick a clever and solid-sounding lie as opposed to a rollicking tale that seemed straight from the mummers. As a professional diplomat, Manclin was an expert at selling lies. The second was the man seated next to him.

Because if the subject is fugitives, or just anyone who needs running down...

"We do our research, Albarech," Manclin said with a simply spread of his hands. His tone was less gregarious now. Less casual and the smile was dimmed. This was them talking business, with the article of trade shackled and standing ten feet away. Hardly a moment to jest or chuckle. "Before we came to Scalvoris, we knew about the... incident, on the island. The name Maxine associated with it. A chorus of blame and horror and accusation. Most importantly, the talk indicated that seeing the villain brought to justice would go a long way to... healing wounds. Bring about a sense of closure."

Manclin gestured to Kasoria, who was keeping his face as straight and neutral as his mutations allowed. Black eyes flat as as snake, body still as a panther's just before lunging.

"You know this man as Kasoria. He has other names, of course. But I assume you know his reputation. It was a simple matter of asking him to... do what he does best."

Kasoria had to will himself not to give a small smirk. Ah, the young noble really was coming along nicely. Sounding like he was disturbed, even disgusted by what Kasoria excelled at, and hesitated to take his leash off. Trying to play the civilized, mayhap even naive aristocrat. Definitely not someone who'd lie, oh Fates no.

Again: helps to have a plan.

"He went into the underworld of this city and he found what he was looking for. It took most of our time here, but Kasoria is very good at what he does." He held up a hand, as if foreseeing the next question. "And no, Mistress Kura. There won't be any other bodies turning up in the aftermath of his inquiries. Kasoria can be quite... surgical, when he needs to be."

Kasoria didn't add anything further. His presence, his reputation, his name and face alone was enough these trials to answer questions. Seemed like the whole world knew him and what he was capable of. This was one of the times that was useful, instead of annoying. And he was grateful now, because he didn't trust himself all the way. It was an effort of supreme, muscle-clenching effort not to grind out words between clenched teeth. Not to look over at the stony expressions of Miki and Raand, although they would have been balms to his soul compared to looking at... her.

It needed to be done. It has to be done. This is the last stop before home. We have to end it well and home needs friendship with Scalvoris. They distrust and dislike us, so we needed to give them something more than a bottle of wine and a bag of gold.

The Raggedy Man's hand, under the lip of the table, clenched into a fist and then relaxed. His jaw torqued minutely from side to side. But he did not look away from the woman whose eyes flashed a different color for just a moment. The girl had mentioned this about her: her eyes changed with her moods. What did this mean? Anger? Suspicion? Pleasure? He didn't know, but he did know to-

Stick to the plan.

[Max]

Kura’s breath of surprise was like a sharp knife in the air to Maxine. She fought the wince that came naturally at the sound. The two women seemed to take each other in for a moment, comparing memory from arcs past with the person that now stood before them…one in shackles but both changed.

Famula’s terrible curse of condemnation had recoiled to a ball of chains around Max’s heart, but the collar was missing from the Rusalka’s throat. Bright lines on recently healed flesh suggested her propensity for trouble hadn’t vanished. Older, more prominent scars had faded but remained all the same.

Kura’s general demeanor seemed new. Yet the moment Maxine’s stare found the daughter of Karem’s, the cursed Rusalka noticed the faint, silvery mark over the mortalborn’s right eye. It was pale and metallic, and she immediately pegged it for something likely not born of the natural world. She didn’t linger on the new cosmetic addition for long. Maxine was measured but her attention was on every micro-expression that played on Kura’s features in those first moments the hood came off. The first few, before the eyes went a lighter, goldish hue to spell agitation, won from the Rusalka a reaction.

Maxine’s expression softened, the tension falling like gravity had suddenly taken it from her. Her shoulders lowered and her eyes lightened. A sharp, uneven inhale seized her, and when she recovered quickly from it, her lips quickly parted as though to speak and she took an instinctive step forward. Miki and Raand felt the resistance in the chains and gave a short, authoritative tug. Her lips pressed hard together and imprisoned the tumble of words that meant to spill from them as her feet planted. Her hands balled to firm fists in the shackles that bound them. She was filled to the brim with whatever this turmoil was, like a black cloud dangerously close to loosing the torrential downpour it harbored inside. Her eyes closed.

Mikiros and Raand adjusted their grip on the chains they commanded. They could feel the slack was gone and they were preparing for the loaded spring to snap. They glanced nervously toward Kasoria. Then the tension vanished. Whatever it had all been, it was smoothed over now. When Max’s eyes opened again, they had gone dark and she let her visage harden to stone once more.

"I am glad to see you’re alive.”

The fugitive exhaled quietly. Her hands, still balled in the confines of the shackles, rested more limply at her waist in front of her. The firebrand was silent.

"And to ease some concerns, Slag's Deep is no longer in operations. Or, for that matter, particularly extant."

Her jaw clenched. She had heard word that the prison had fallen, but that was all she knew. It was a strange thing to consider. So many levels of criminals, each sorted by varying levels of crime and perceived dangerousness, were down in that wretched hole. She wondered errantly what had become of them all. Woe to the surface world if the survivors of Level Seven crawled high enough to reach the light. The Warden was likely dead, the only outcome she imagined permitted after watching him flaunt his pseudo-autonomy at the Council meeting once.

And his daughter? Dead? Trapped underground? Gone? The tune etched in her mind had ceased so some sort of conclusion had taken place. At least the gifts Maxine had won in exchange for service long ago remained with her. Her mind quickly quit its meandering.

Manclin eluded to the disasters of Faldrass and Maxine stood a sinister statue between the mercenaries. Then he sung Kasoria’s hard-won, nefarious accolades that earned him world renown. He talked about a killer, a blackmailer, a knife in the dark without the outright admissions of the sea of blood left in his wake to qualify the reputation that preceded the reaper. There was not a smirk or an eye roll from those in the room that knew. Kasoria was a real boogeyman. Pierce might’ve even shivered at the name. One look at the man and one would know it all to be true: he was bottled so stiffly with otherworldly power in some ways he hardly looked human anymore.

A politician and a mage with a blade put me in chains. That should feel familiar to at least two of us in the room…

Manclin was a clever man. He answered specifically without disrespectfully flaunting methods that might’ve been less appreciated by the ruling party here. Miki and Raand seemed slightly at ease since the Etzori talking head reminded them all of Kasoria’s prowess, the prisoner between them a testament.

Then, finally…

"Sixty-eight.” Maxine’s voice suddenly lifted in the room. She shifted her shackled hands in front of her. "Sixty-eight arcs was the sentence. Not including whatever new charges…” She let her chin drop, leveling her stare to meet Kura’s eyes. "Slags Deep, a thing or not, I can’t do another miserable, forgotten pit in the ground. Just call your headsman… or point out a tree and notch your arrow when your business here is through.”