Discord transcript: Laying Low
[Scene continuation/wrap-up for Kerr & Idrial]

CW/TW: None

SETTING: Sounnah, Thisbē - Sondu 762

TAGS:Kerr Blackwood & Idrial Belinor

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KERR
It was a brothel. A rather high-end brothel, but a brothel nonetheless. Everything was a garish color, all the better to see in the dimly lit nights when it was most likely to be viewed by its clientele. Kerr tossed a coin to the doorman and headed up, pressing more coin into the hands of an older woman who asked not a single question once she'd checked the denomination of said coins. And into a room full of pillows. "The room is made for reclining, I'm afraid there's only the one stool in the corner if you'd prefer to sit upright," he said as he stepped to the window and scanned the square outside. The stool was more for putting on boots before going home than sitting a spell but a stool was a stool at the end of the day, regardless of what it was 'meant' for.



IDRIAL
It was a brothel. A much nicer one than she had ever been in in her capacity as a healer but still not Idrial’s first choice of places to lie low in. Apart from feeling renewed terror in the back of her mind that she may be trafficked into sex slavery by her rescuer, she supposed it might have been one of the last places the killers hunting her would check. Being that it was a place whose business practice was to be discreet or entirely reticent (for the right price) simultaneously assured and unnerved her. Still, Idrial tried to maintain cautious optimism about the man’s agenda.

As they moved through the brothel, she tried to track and guestimate the amount of coin he was passing off, intending to reimburse him when it all was over. If she survived.

Idrial’s nerves were a little alleviated when they had made it to the pillowed room; glad to finally have a moment to really think and process what had happened and what her next move should be. “You are welcome to the stool,” she offered, preferring to situate herself in the corner furthest from the window and rest her leg. Once she was settled, Idrial exhaled a weighted breath then was quiet for several moments. “What should I call you?” the peredhel asked, supposing introductions were in order. Something about him made her wonder if he would answer truly, though.



KERR
He held up a finger, forestalling the answer to her question for just a few more long moments as he gave his scan of the area below his full focus until it was done. No sign of any of the men he'd spotted, nor anyone who seemed wrong given the circumstances he'd left behind. Not even the jester, though he wasn't sure he was done with that one entirely yet. Well, it was a good enough start. He turned with a relieved sigh. "So far, so good. I am Kerr Blackwood, a mercenary from the north." He gave her a courtly and sweeping bow, though plainly not a practiced one. "I was standing on the balcony here when I noticed you. At first I thought perhaps you were a noble lady attempting to avoid notice by disguising yourself and your guards but as I watched I noticed they were looking at you rather than looking out for you. I've seen more than my fair share of violence in this lifetime, I know an impending attack when I see one and I have this thing about backstabbing in both the literal and figurative senses." He gave her a smile he hoped was reassuring to her eyes as it felt on his face. "Listen, I know you've had to trust me a great deal to get this far and I appreciate that so I promise not to make you regret it. I've done bodyguard work before and I'm pretty good at it, especially the active threat removal style we're going to have to go with here. But first things first. Payment, because I know you're worried about it."

"The man that's trying to kill you has a massive bounty on his head, something to do with killing some noble's favorite... uh... let's just say 'friend'. If you let me have claim on the lion's share of that we can call the bodyguard services paid in full. Sound fair?" He spread his hands to show he was open to negotiation.



IDRIAL
Idrial listened intently as Kerr relayed what he had seen in more detail than before. She nearly laughed when he mentioned thinking she was some noblewoman playing pauper. “Quite the opposite…” she mumbled. Though that assessment had been more to do with the men following the peredhel than how she looked or carried herself, it was still amusing (and maybe a little flattering) to have been confused for such, even if just for a fleeting moment.

She nodded as he continued, agreeing that she had taken quite the leap of faith to have gone this far with no more than his word to go on. Though, in fairness, so far he had been true to it. And, in as much as anyone could be when they had only just met, he seemed relatively transparent in the way he laid everything out for discussion. It only took a short moment for her to mull over the deal he presented. “More than fair.” Not that she had much choice. She still needed his help a while yet and conceding money she had no real hold over was an easy enough trade. “You are welcome to keep the whole of it,” she offered with a nonchalant shrug.

“Is this truly a golden opportunity for you, or have you been actively closing in on this bounty?” Idrial asked, her tone one of polite curiosity. In a way, she was unconcerned with the answer; figuring she would be bait regardless. “Kerr Blackwood, mercenary of the north.”



KERR
She mumbled something in regard to his presumption of rank and Kerr chuckled. "It's best, however surprising, that you're not. It'll make this whole thing easier to resolve, believe it or not." He said it happily. She was clean, at least moderately educated, well dressed for the common cast. He could have believed she was a business owner or related to one if she'd claimed as much. Might be, which would ratchet up the difficulty of the situation but not so much as a noble's line would. He stood watching her, calculating the possibilities but knowing he was just grasping blindly in the dark at this point.

"No, not the whole of it. You're taking a risk on me, creating my opportunity. If not for you I'd have no chance of getting in the same room with him without it being his advantage. You deserve to walk away with more than you had when this is all said and done." He didn't like the idea of taking advantage of people and, besides, he was going to waste every coin of it that passed through his hands anyway. "As such, this is as golden as it gets. I'm here for the solstice celebration and certainly have no way of tracking the man. Not even the Judicars can track him, or else he wouldn't have spent the last decade becoming a famous assassin."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The adrenaline of their situation finally starting to peter out. "And what should I call you, m'lady?"



IDRIAL
“On that, we can agree,” she replied in regard to her station. At least so far as her current predicament and her career path were concerned. Had things been different on that front. She might well have been married to the Marshal of Vanyar by now, even despite her inability to produce heirs. That ship had long since sailed, though, and she had to believe for reasons beyond the wishes of his mother. As hard as that was to swallow at times.

The peredhel was unsure of what to make of his insistence that she keep some of the reward money for this killer - should they walk away successful in both his capture and preserving her life. “As you please,” she said with a shrug. Idrial could easily put the money to charitable use in a number of places, if not toward her own business plans.

There was a slight hesitation before she answered him about her own name. A short-lived internal debate about whether it would be better to give him a false name. But, then, she supposed she had already come this far and further still to go. What more was her name? “Idrial.” The peredhel inclined her head in a small, polite bow. “I have something of a… mixed reputation, if you've ever lent an ear to the rumor mill when my name was passing through it.”



KERR
They agreed and thus those subjects were closed. Moving on to what she was to be called. Now, Kerr was an avid student of reading people, a skill taught to him by experience as the primary negotiator for his mercenary company. That skill had been perfected by his Judicar training and then honed to razor sharpness by the life and death stakes of using it during his investigations. She considered lying, decided wisely against it, and then told him her name. Idrial? A modern evolution of the High Elven proper noun Idril, which was itself a variant of Itarillë (or Itarildë) in other dialects of the language. "Sparkling Brilliance," he said more to himself than to her. He loved languages and Elven was easily the most complex one he'd learned and thus the more fascinating for it. What she said next indicated that he was expected to know of her but... no sign of recognition crossed his face. Not at first.

A mixed reputation? His expression turned to deep thought as his mind sorted through the rumor mill he was accustomed to dealing with and pulled up exactly nothing. Then from wince was he supposed to... he'd mistaken her for a noble. His brain clicked over to the white-collar crime division he occasionally intersected with and her name's uniqueness immediately pulled his mind to... "Vanyar, you are part of the court in Vanyar." Oh, they were already narrowing down the problem. It depended on how many of the rumors were true, or at least true enough to move someone to act. "Oh, do go on. We might have stumbled into the source of your current predicament."



IDRIAL
The peredhel raised her brows in faint surprise. “Very good,” she said, more than a little impressed by his pool of knowledge pertaining to elves to be able to produce something, or indeed anything, like that so quickly. It was also an interesting insight into Kerr’s education. “I am not so sure the meaning suits, but it is just the sort of name a doting father gives a daughter.”

She watched the subtle changes in Kerr’s expression as he searched his memory for anything relevant. Being a mercenary from the north, as he said, she was not expecting him to conjure much. He was sharp, though, and hit near enough the mark. “I am not so sure. It was some years ago now,” she semi-confirmed, “Merely a guest. I am a close friend of the princess Kira Sophia. And I was… close to the Marshal for a time as well. We had feelings for each other and I think at one point he intended to make me his wife, but it… It was not possible,” Idrial said, trying to sound neutral as she oversimplified and understated the matter. There seemed little point in concealing the nature of her relationship to Logan, though, as it was not a secret and was something of a scandalous intrigue for wagging tongues at the time. If it did turn out to signify, her connections to their family were not likely to be irrelevant. Even so, it was long enough past she was doubtful of the target on her back coming out of Vanyar.

“But I have been a member of Thisbē’s court the past four years until recently. The king had attended a ball in honor of Kira. I too was in attendance. An attempt was made on his life and it was my skill as a healer that saved him. Isto shortly thereafter persuaded me to take up a mage position in the curia regis.” Idrial paused and her mouth pursed slightly in a seemingly frustrated or perhaps ashamed fashion. “I may as well tell you, if you do not know already, that Isto was amused that I came with a rather serious criminal record. He likes to shock people, you see. His former bodyguard he had hired directly from a dungeon cell.” She exhaled a short snort of laughter through her nose and shook her head, a fond little smile playing over her lips. “With my employment, people became concerned this signaled a pattern developing. He used his authority to pardon the conviction and acquire this,” she raised her hand to show a Norian mage’s mark. “Isto also publicly proposed marriage to me on a number of occasions - jokes all; purely to ruffle feathers with mounting pressure to produce an heir. But, apart from general objections and concerns on his part, this caused more than a few people to speculate whether I had ambitions of becoming queen somewhere; failed in Vanyar, and so seeking Thisbē. Some even suggested that I had orchestrated the whole assassination attempt as part of a long game. For what it’s worth, I have no such ambition. As I said before- quite the opposite. And, very much against his majesty’s wishes, I have lately resigned that post.”

She sighed heavily, punctuating a conclusion. There was a lot to summarize; more than she realized at the start, and still there was much she had left out or glossed over in order to quickly give some overview of the context of her life and the places where she may have earned enemies. No doubt Kerr would have follow-up questions - either for details in certain areas of interest or to explore other avenues or both.



KERR
"I'll have to take your word for it. My dad called me 'Boy' until I was about seven years old, but he also insisted I be educated so here I am." He chuckled and appeared for all the world as if he were extremely fond of his father. Because he was.

"Aye, that matches the little bit I remember of it." It had been a report in the Judicar office, something he'd skimmed over more than read as he kept an eye out for political situations villains might take advantage of so he could 'mercenary' his way in the right direction. "Hate to see love interrupted but we can't have princesses marrying scoundrels at the rate it would happen otherwise." He nodded sagely at the rest of it, too. The lord of Thisbē liked to play his social games because it kept his opponents off balance, if they didn't know what to do or which way to jump then they'd be frozen in place while he moved as he wished. It was a clever game, though Kerr could only imagine it being exceptionally time-consuming and exhausting to keep playing at the rate that made it useful. So the intimate connection to Vanyar, the rough separation from Thisbē, and a criminal background. She'd foiled at least one play for power, as well. She had a mage mark, which he didn't think would cause murderous intent one way or another. At least not to the degree that would justify the hiring of a man like the one he'd just foiled. And that was the great filter, right there. The man didn't take general bounties, he didn't work for cheap, so whoever wanted her dead wanted her dead in a big way.

She had no such ambition. "Oh good, there's hope for me yet." He casually flirted but leaned back against the wall rather than approach. "So, I think we can eliminate either leader as the source. While scaring you back into the fold might make a fine motive for faking an assassination nobody, not even those two men combined, could afford to pay your would-be attacker to fail. His reputation is worth far too much to him, should his work be recognized. It's already costing somebody quite a bit to make him do it in a way that appears incidental. That's why he's subcontracting the other two, he was going to make the strike and they were going to do the robbing. He's a perfectionist but also a snob by all accounts. In order to justify his pay, not just to kill but to remove his name from the accomplishment, somebody has to have it out for you personally. Not just as a means to an end, not just to make a point, but to get a very specific result and to kill specifically you. That means we have two points of reference that intersect on you and limits the number of culprits. A good thing, really. And he failed. Bad, in that he's going to get very focused on finishing the job. Good, in that the person that hired him is going to get real nervous. But that means both parties are likely to now make a mistake... Are both of your former patrons in the city for the festival?"



IDRIAL
“Yes,” she agreed somewhat somberly. The peredhel’s eyes cast away from Kerr’s for a few moments and absently fidgeted with a phantom ring on her finger. “Love is not always enough.” It was unfortunately repeating pattern throughout Idrial’s life. It was a cycle she was beginning to feel a little hopeless about ever breaking from, regardless of whether the person she loved was a prince or a pauper.

The mercenary’s flirtatious quip recaptured her attention. She smiled and managed a small laugh, appreciating the break from her self-pitying thoughts.

Idrial carefully considered what Kerr said next, trying to come up with a list as he described the narrowed possibilities. She exhaled a small, frustrated huff and shrugged with a shake of her head; coming up empty again. The expense and the apparently deeply personal nature of the hit, by Kerr’s assessment, completely puzzled her. If not for those (rather critical) factors she might have had one or two leads to follow. As it was, Idrial could hardly think of someone with a king’s wealth that she had crossed enough to earn an execution. Not even someone like Idonea, who had on occasion outright—

“No…” the peredhel muttered, coming to a sudden realization but disbelieving it. It can't be. Idrial’s expression grew more solemn and pensive. A deep line formed between her brows as she tried to recall a recent interaction with the Marshal’s mother. When she registered he had asked a question, she shook her head to mean she was not answering him just then, and replied, “Erm, yes, I believe so.”



KERR
Kerr gave a sad nod at her pronouncement that sometimes love wasn't enough. He knew that better than most, at least when it came to romantic love. He'd given up on the entire concept altogether and figured it was much better just to focus on how people delighted him and he could delight them in turn. It made for short relationships but ones that were remembered fondly by all involved. Usually. He got a laugh from her when he referenced his lack of a kingdom and that was progress, at least.

But then she spoke to herself, more a mumble than spoken language. He waited, people had to work through those kinds of thoughts and it appeared she was coming to a forlorn conclusion. He filed that turn of phrase away in the back of his mind and accepted her answer to his other question, both men were in the city. That might be relevant but he needed whatever was in her head right that instant. He moved forward, pushing off the wall and crossing the space with surprising silence for a man his size. He lowered himself to one knee just beyond her outstretched legs, hoping to capture her full focus. "When it comes to life and death situations you'd be surprised how often your first instinct is your best. Who did you just think of?"



IDRIAL
In barely the span of two blinks, Kerr had crossed over to her. He was agile and noiseless. Idrial’s fingers curled tightly into the fabric of her dress skirt. The suddenness of his approach reminded her of how helpless she was in his presence and what little effort it probably took him to subdue her before. Internally, she braced for some manner of violence - though she had no rational reason to expect it.

Her hands relaxed when he knelt at a short distance. When Kerr spoke, he was still as patient and gentle as he had been so far. With her, at any rate. She exhaled the breath she had been holding and gave a small nod of agreement. The peredhel opened her mouth to answer but there was a hesitation. A fear that being wrong was just as dangerous as not. Then, she supposed, that either way there was a very likely chance she would still die in spite of Kerr’s efforts.

Idrial swallowed hard and, with grave resolve, she discreetly uttered the identity of the woman that wanted her dead. “Idonea. The dowager Marshalese.” The peredhel knew she was right the moment she said it. All of the pieces fit. And knowing this scared her more than not knowing.



KERR
The dowager... but why? He didn't know. Oh, that wasn't to say he couldn't easily string together a few guesses. In fact, between his training and experience, he figured he could correctly guess the motive behind a given murder or attempt about seventy percent of the time knowing no more than what he knew at that moment. Money, power, and sex were the most common with outliers like jealousy and territorial matters following along at much lower but still noteworthy rates. Money was out, from what he'd heard about that dowager Marshalese so was sex, and so that left power as the most likely motive left without additional information. Not her own power, she might have some small influence with the Marshall but the man would be seen as beyond weak if he was taking orders from his mom. It was his power, his power was the closest thing to hers but... legacy could mean a lot to a person. Kerr found the older folks got the more it mattered, he'd had to hear more than a few rude comments about himself and his father over the matter growing up.

"Well, that's a dangerous accusation at the best of times. Especially from the likes of us. Neither of which currently has the rank to make such an accusation. Even if you can play on his feelings to hear you out we have no evidence to provide the Marshall, let alone a Judicar." The only two beings with an interest and the authority to do anything about the situation.



IDRIAL
“Yes,” she agreed quietly, “It is not a suggestion I make lightly, I can assure you.” The peredhel glanced toward the doorway as if expecting to sense an eavesdropper. Kerr seemed to understand what a perilous thing it was for her to have said as much aloud, let alone for it to potentially be true. When he pointed out that neither Logan nor the Judicars were an option at present she felt a great swell of anxiety. Should she keep Az in the dark? Should she go to Isto? Should she leave Giralda altogether?

“No, indeed,” she said quietly, “I would not speak to him nor his sister about this unless there were no other option.” Even if they managed to secure proof of a plot against her (for which she very much doubted Idonea would leave a paper trail), Idrial was not sure she could stomach the guilt of destroying their family.

The peredhel let out a long, weighty exhale and returned her attention to Kerr. “It was something she said…” Idrial began to explain, then decided some context may have been in order, “Kira invited me to stay with her a little while at their Norian estate; they were there to help aid the city after the earthquake. And after a dinner, where the Marshal was in a rare attendance, his mother caught me a moment alone and said something along the lines of ‘I will not let you bewitch him again’”.

She paused briefly, her mouth pursed in a troubled manner as she played the scene over in her mind once more. “At the time, I thought nothing of it. Just her usual venom toward me. But now… I cannot help but think it may have been much more.”



KERR
He nodded, believing her. If she'd indeed spent any time at court then she knew full well how legal matters actually played out at that level. Who you were was often more important than the veracity of the accusation, a frustration for many younger Judicar as almost none of them carried any appreciable noble rank. It was good that they weren't going to have to go back and forth over this very reality, though. It would save them a great deal of time.

"Unfortunately I have the feeling we will have to speak to the Marshal at some point. Without a confession we're not going to get you out from under this bounty I'm afraid. In front of him will suffice, a public one would be very difficult to procure. Remember what I said about people getting nervous and making mistakes, all hope is not lost." He stood again and went back over to the window to give the outside another scan with his careful eyes.

Kerr chuckled softly at the story about the vague threat. "If I had a coin for every time I've heard that sort of thing... well, I wouldn't have to be a mercenary." He turned back to her with a grin. "A side affect of being what I affectionately refer to as 'Quarter-Orc'. I'm sure in her head she thinks she's doing the right thing but if we can get enough evidence to make your... friend... curious, we might be able to tie her to the proverbial barrel. A good scolding from her precious baby boy should be more than sufficient to take the money off the board, then no more assassins. It's not justice but... it's the kind of thing we can all live with."



IDRIAL
The peredhel gave a nod, her expression taking on a more somber disposition. “Unfortunately, I have a feeling you may be right.” If she even lived long enough to get that far into whatever this de-bountying process entailed. Idrial noted what he said about people making mistakes [to their favor] but was unable to draw much comfort from such a notion just yet. The odds, even with Kerr’s help, seemed stacked against her; toweringly so.

The term ‘Quarter-Orc’ punctured her spiraling thoughts and drew her full attention back to the mercenary. Her expression was quizzical as she surveyed his appearance. She did not follow up on the unusual label just yet, though, as there were slightly more pressing matters to consider just then. “And, if we cannot secure enough evidence?”



KERR
"Solid question. If, at some point in all of this, I get lucky enough to put down the man that tried to claim the bounty today you're likely to get a lot safer just as a matter of natural consequence. One of the most dangerous assassins in the land fails and there aren't many folks who want to take a crack at the challenge that killed them." That wasn't necessarily true, there were several others at a similar reputation to him that would be overjoyed to win where he lost Kerr was trying to make her feel better not terrify her. "And we don't need much, really, if we just intend to get her to admit it. It shouldn't be that hard, I know all about being brazen in the face of bigotry and the reactions it tends to elicit." He gave her quizzical look a wink, not at all perturbed by her curiosity. "My father, the man who found me as a toddler alone in the great North Wood, is a Half-Orc."



IDRIAL
The peredhel nodded, trying to draw some solace from his words but was increasingly lacking optimism. As they discussed the next and later steps, she worried about how much reliance on good luck she seemed to need. Getting Idonea to incriminate herself in Idrial’s presence, let alone her son’s, was likely to be a difficult, if not impossible, task. If Idrial survived long enough to make it that far…

Idrial was taken a little aback when he explained the meaning behind ‘Quarter-Orc’. Her lips were parted in mild shock and it was a moment before she spoke. “A toddler alone in the wilds?” she repeated. "Gods..." Though it was long past, her expression became one of deep concern. “Do you know what happened to your birth parents?”



KERR
"I have no idea, the mercenary company he was with found me by a burnt-out tree surrounded by Orc tracks that never came up to it's trunk. I was covered in soot, like somebody had tried to hide me in the trunk of that lightning-struck tree... or maybe I'd hidden myself because of the Orcs. I don't know, can't remember, and wasn't verbal at the time. The trackers found no signs of humans other than me. Lots of possibilities, from leaving me to exposure because they couldn't afford to feed another mouth once I was weened to a family picnic that ended in tragedy. When I was little I liked to pretend they were carried off by a griffin after hiding me from its claws but I think that sort of thing would have stuck with me if true. But then, one day, I realized it didn't matter. I had a father, one that wanted me from the moment he saw me and changed his whole life to see me raised as best he knew how. Or, rather the best all those midwives he questioned could teach him. Father isn't the sharpest knife at the butcher's shop, but he made up for it with commitment to the task. He practically reveres midwives, by the way." He had a warm smile on his face as he spoke about his father but he shook his head. "Sorry, I can go on about the old half-orc at length. It's half my material when I hold court at some pub after a big payday."



IDRIAL
Her eyes widened in surprise when Kerr explained he was found by mercenaries. Not only that, but one of those men took him in permanently. It was a fascinating story and a pleasant break from the other things that weighed so heavily on her at present. The corners of Idrial’s mouth twitched into a small smile as he talked fondly of his adoptive father. “He sounds like a wonderful man,” she commented, having formed an endearing opinion about Kerr’s father herself. She half-wished she would be able to meet him.

“It is a great thing that he was among those who found you. I doubt there are many who would take up such a mantle.” It was precisely the sort of thing Azazeal would do, she thought. And, while she was thinking about it, it was almost shocking that she was not already a doting auntie to a whole orphanage's worth of children.

Idrial waved her hand dismissively when he apologized for talking at length about his father. "I have enjoyed hearing about him. You have a certain way of telling stories."

“Do you see your father often?”



KERR
"No, not on first blush at least. The rest of the mercs got used to me, though. Got a few that are pretty much aunts or uncles at this point." He shrugged, it was a hard-to-describe relationship at the best of times. "My way with words is a product of my father's love. He's not smart or clever with words, when he realized 'boy smart' he turned his entire budget into an education fund for me, and hired anyone he thought knew something to teach me that something. Numbers, letters. Hired a bard at one point, one with a formal education from somewhere, to teach me poetry even." Again he had a fond smile on his face. "Man didn't drink a drop of ale from the time I was about six until I turned seventeen."

He shook his head sadly. "Like most hybrids, he's prone to illness. Age made it worse. Years ago I hit upon a bit of a payday and bought him a home with a forge in it, up in Oborne. Work rarely takes me anywhere near it so I have to make a bit of a journey to even get close to the place... last time I was up there he'd found himself an Orc woman to marry and I still send coin his way to make sure he has everything he needs without having to go out. Like food that neither he nor she have had any hand in preparing." He laughed, clearly meaning that they were awful cooks. "I should make another trek up that way."



IDRIAL
The peredhel’s eye crinkled a little at the corners, her smile broadening as he continued to talk about the doting merc. “That is an enviable education, to be sure. He did very well by you.” It went without saying, she suspected. Kerr struck her as the sort of person that was good at taking stock of things and knew how to count his blessings. It seemed clear enough to Idrial that he did not take his father’s efforts for granted.

Her smile faded a little when Kerr spoke of his father’s aging and ailing. She nodded gently, knowing all too well the difficulties that half-bloods faced with their health and injuries. Idrial practically could not get so much as a papercut without incurring a fever.

“That is a ways,” she agreed. It didn’t really matter where the starting point was. The roads to Oborne were long or treacherous, usually both, and it was only a moderate improvement to travel there by sea. Idrial seemed to be increasingly invested in this person she would likely never meet and was pleased to learn Kerr’s father was not lonely without his son’s company. It really was a sweet story. “You should. I am sure he would be delighted to have a visit from his boy smart,” the peredhel encouraged, a cheeky little smile punctuating the comment. Then, musing, she said, “Perhaps I will even send along something of a care package for him– if I can live long enough to put it together.” Idrial sighed. “One thing at a time. I suppose.”



KERR
"It lets me get by regardless of company, make wise work decisions, and ensures I always have friends when I need them. Can't ask for any more than that." He spread his hands as if to say it wasn't much but it was an honest existence. Most people finding his way of life exciting to the point of insanity notwithstanding. He nodded at the notion that his father would like to see him. "If for no other reason than to prove to the others around the place that I do indeed exist." He had no doubt he was the most famous offspring in Oborne by now. He was his father's greatest accomplishment, at least so far as his father was concerned. "Better start planning what you're gonna put in it then because you will most definitely be surviving this little misadventure. We have a way out of this, all we got to do is execute it. Along the way I might get into a spat with that assassin but that's okay, it's where the money comes from and it will just be further proof of concept when we present it to your... friend."



IDRIAL
Any one of those qualities alone was invaluable. “You’re being modest.” Another trait that served to bolster his (apparent) kind and charming nature.

The peredhel chuckled softly, taking his meaning about proving his existence to mean his father probably boasted about his boy-smart at every opportunity. Possibly to the annoyance of all of Oborne. It was an amusing thought and she quietly chuckled again. Although, she suspected they probably enjoyed hearing of Kerr and his adventures as much his father enjoyed sharing about them. She imagined that he too probably had an engrossing way of telling stories.

Idrial filled with a heavier sense of dread as the conversation casually turned back to the reason they had met. Her smile faltered. She cast her gaze to the window and nodded softly – more or less agreeing to move forward with a confrontational plan than working out an alternative. It was worth taking the path that meant she would not have to leave everyone and everything behind if they were successful. But, should they ultimately fail to remove the target from her back, Idrial hope they could buy at least enough time for her to square a few things away…

“I need to collect my things. We have rooms at an inn near the outside of town, toward the east road. The Silver Lute.”

Story continued in: Two Swords For Sister Idrial