Returning to Frigid River [open]

[Rincewin]

Era's. It had been utter era's ago when he had last been in Frigid River. Rincewin didn't really remember how many, but it was a lot. The city had changed since he had died there. Changed dramaticly. The most important of changes was the fact that there was sunlight this time around, and it was a decent hour. Rincewin was less a nocturnal hider these days, since he went under the guise of Tachus Rusalaem.

Today he sauntered forth, on foot. He had just come from an ordeal in Zinn'sunn, where the entire city had been covered in illusions. Still, he was poor. He needed money and a lot of it if he ever was to destroy Kaith and reclaim Vae Victus. So, Frigid River. Close by to Zinn'sunn, and somewhere where he used to hang out. Back in his first body, that is.

Where he had first learned his necromatic skills of master Gregory. The fool. Maybe his mansion was still there though, it was bound to contain some treasures, something for Rincewin to inherit. He could sure need the money. And perhaps the mansion was another good place to host a Brothers in Arms headquarters. Rincewin saw ideas here.

But first, he had to enter town. Strutting confidently, his soot-blackened sword through his belt -but not hidden by scabbard, for he had none- he made his way in. Black leather pants and black shirt and scarf. No armour, no nothing. He was going to let the changes to the city sink in, for it seemed to have grown larger, too. Maybe the guardhouse still held his ornate armour. He could display it in his guildhouse, for such things often impressed junior warriors. Not Rincewin. He had long ago discarded any form of armour -it only slowed him down.

Though his step today, was pretty slow of it's own right, for he had no haste, and did not want to appear to be hasty. He had no clear goal. The black haired human needed to think about his options here for a moment, whilst exploring the town.

[Andavariel]

((See, posting as you wish))

The figure known to some unlucky people as Rincewin, and to others as Tachus Rusalaem, found that his unhurried steps did indeed take him to his 'old' estate. It was now locally known as the Chalmer's Estate, for reasons unknown to just about everyone. The lands, such as they were, were not as kempt as they might be, and the house was currently in the middle of being aired out and cleaned.

A couple of rooms had already been made habitable for the use of Lady Andavariel Klen-Ais, a half elf who had been very busy in the town of Frigid River since her arrival last autumn. She found the house particularly stifling at present, although she used only a small kitchen, and 2 other rooms; one as a reception cum study, and the other as a boudoir. Instead she spent much time tramping through the grounds, much to the consternation of those who knew any of the rumours about the place. They never spoke a word of them to her, and she was not a figure who took easy to being warned away from things. curiosity might have killed the katta, but in the half elf it was one of her greatest vices. This was probably why that infernal Andrea disliked her so much.

It was during one of these rambles that she bumped into a human who definitely DID NOT look local. She had never seen a local boy dress in such a brazen manner. She was dressed somewhat as she was always dressed, simply, wearing soft, comfortable breeches and boots, and a loose shirt covered with a jacket. She held a walking stick in her hand, as she enjoyed the brisk walks and found it useful to have something to hold branches out of the way with.

She was not your normal half elven temptress. She looked like she ate perhaps a little too well, and her features had a vaguely ageless look about them. Her long auburn hair hung down her back in a loose plait, and she regarded the human with a curious expression. She was obviously a little surprised by the naked blade that hung at his side, but she did not react in fear.

She rarely did, even when it was prudent.

Mustering some semblance of politeness, she managed to utter a crude greeting. Her voice was smooth, and warm. She enjoyed meeting people, and she enjoyed conversation, and this human certainly looked more interesting than many she had met down through the ages.

"Serale, good Sir. What brings you wandering around here."

A little inadequate, and a little archaic, but just about all she could manage at that moment

[Rincewin]

Boy? Rincewin would never describe himself as a boy, but perhaps, to Andavariel, twenty-seven patterns on Telath was a mere pittance. But yes, he was not local. Not anymore. He had -a dozen patterns or so ago- owned a small house here, when he had tried settling down. No, Rincewin had not been allowed to settle down, not when Lachdannon came riding in, carrying the corpse of his brother in a bag. No, Rincewin had known no rest since then, and been back to Frigid River only once since.

He had automaticly wandered here though, to this mansion. Where he had first met with disciples of Jorel, the selfish god his life now revolved around though he did not serve from his own free will. 'Master' Gregory had first taught him the mastery over the powers of necromancy. But the old man had been a fool. Mere vengeance over love lost had been his downfall, and in his foolish quest he had almost dragged Rincewin with him.

Rincewin had seen a lot of elves, and he had liked none of them. He was sure the one before him wasn't going to change his opinion about elves. It wasn't that Rincewin was a racist person, not at all. It was just that he generally disliked people, he was just not a very socialable person. He could not help but size up everyone he met. It was part of his lifestyle. Kill or be killed was how he lived. He couldn't help it.

A feeble elven woman. A single slash would take of her, if he needed to. Probably not. He should try and avoid killing people here, for he was still in the guise of Tachus Rusalaem, seasoned adventurer and do-gooder. Rincewin didn't think of himself as a do-gooder, he had killed far too many people for that. He was a survivor though, he did what he needed to survive. And these days, he tried to do some good deeds, to build up the reputation of Tachus Rusalaem some more, so that his guild -the Brothers in Arms- would prosper and benefit from his skills. Jorel demanded such fame.

If only there was a little fortune to go with that. Ever since the incident at Alleria Prime, Rincewin had been exceedingly poor. Something he could not afford to be (pun not intended). He needed a lot of money to get all the holy water he needed to destroy Kaith, the vile treacherous Dragonlich. If only he could contact Jorel, and inform him of his servants treachery, of the cult to himself Kaith was crafting. Rincewin was festering with hatred for the dragonlich -but this all was not in his immediate mind.

What was in his immediate thoughts was greeting the plump elven woman back. What she was doing here, he was unsure. Maybe Master Gregory's mansion had been sold to someone. It had still been abandoned when Rincewin had been the luitenant of the guard here, by that fool, Zalikanya. That traitor who had tried befouling his name to the Sacred Circle. All his endavours were prone to being stopped in their tracks by the actions of fools. But he had learned. No more silly mistakes. He needed more accomplishes, more people to work for him, whom others did not know. He had not been careful enough, he figured.

"Serale." he replied. "What is happening to this mansion? I heard an old antiquarian had housed here, but it seems he has moved since?"

[Andavariel]

Feeble though she might be, the red haired half elf surveyed him with a vague air of concern. Mortal thoughts of caution had finally caught up with her; she was not exactly safe. Those mortal thoughts did not affect her all that much. Even though she was likely at this stranger's mercy - screaming and panicking would do her no good in the long run. The issue of just how mortal she should act now settled, she glanced up towards the house and shook her head in answer to his question.

"I do not know, I am recently moved to this Estate, and those who arranged it as a home for me have told me nothing about it's past. The only antiquarian I know is the archivist, and I somehow doubt that he has ever lived here. As for what is happening to it, I suppose you could say that it is being cleaned out on my behalf. Rather boring and domestic, very dusty; I've not had time to explore more than one room yet."

So she had been polite and answered his question, it was time for him to answer hers now. She looked back at the human, trying to assess exactly what he was. Used to fighting, an adventurer perhaps. He might be useful if she was to stay in Frigid River for much longer.

"And who are you, and what is your interest in the Chalmer's Estate? I have not seen your face in the town, and few are given to wandering over land belonging to others." She questioned, her tone having a faint metallic edge. Weak woman though she might be, she was clearly used to being somewhat in command.

[Rincewin]

Rincewin shrugged at her up-frontness. It was okay with him, he was not good at chit-chat. He was clever at deception and lies, but not at small talk. He could twist words and tell falsehoods, but not talk about useless things, like so many others thought they needed to. Rincewin found it refreshing that someone else shared this opinion for once.

"A dozen or so era's ago -it could be more, " Rincewin started "I was here to meet a certain antiquarian, a most peculiar man. He called himself Master Gregory. He lived here, you see. I was in the neighbourhood, and was wondering if he still lived here."

Rincewin wasn't. He didn't give a rats-arse about Gregory. He had probably perished in the assault on the druids, back then. In fact, hadn't he? The other warrior, the vystichi with the katana -Rincewin remembered weapons quite well, it was essential to his trade- had killed him, when he threathened his love, or sister or showed weakness or something. It was blurry -too long ago, and the details were unimportant in this matter. What was important that Gregory was dead, and that his house could well hold plenty of valuables still -but not magical, they would've been ruined when he himself had lost his magical powers during the Aetherfracture. But perhaps something of value still lingered there.

Perhaps.

[Andavariel]

He was no stranger to avoiding the really pertinent questions, that was for sure. As far as Andavariel was concerned, he might prove useful. Someone not connected with anyone living in this town was a rare commodity these days. All were becoming beholden to either the locals, or that infernal clan of Cabinet members that Governor Kaldres had gathered around himself.

"There is no Master Gregory in this town that I have come across since I arrived. You have still avoided the question of who YOU are, and if there is anything that might keep you in this town, now that your reason for travelling here is apparently null. I would very much like that one answered."

She brooded on the idea for a moment. Perhaps he could tell her more about the house if he stayed. Perhaps he would be useful. Or maybe the ever cautious Andavariel wished to take a chance; she had a reckless streak that occasionally needed to be satisfied. In any case, she was not as cautious as she should have been, talking to a strange man in this overgrown estate.

She turned towards the house, making as if to walk on back to the house.

"Perhaps you can tell me your name, and more about this house, in exchange for a meal? I feel hungry myself."

[Rincewin]

"He might've passed on, since last we spoke. " Rincewin murmered. He full well knew. He had seen Gregory slain from behind by a vystichi warrior apprentice of the same. Some family issues. Rincewin had taken from the old coot what he needed and left. Rincewin had come out on top, as always.

He could not avoid answering her question now, though. And really, why should he? He was trying to build up a reputation for himself as the famous adventurer Tachus Rusalaem, not staying in obscurity as was his wont as Rincewin.

"I am Tachus Rusalaem, adventurer and guildmaster of the Brothers in Arms." He introduced himself so, sans flaunt. He did not need to, he was business. Not some kind of braggart, Rincewin was a very competent liar, and as such, he knew bragging didn't work often. Not on elderly elven women he was sure.

"And as an adventurer, I am still interested in this house. Master Gregory -" Rincewin let slip for he had never in life refered to him as anything other than master, "was an old man with strong tales. Many about his house."

At the offer of a meal he nodded. For all his acting as the rich guildmaster, Rincewin was a poor man, having not yet truly mastered the concept of money and how to keep it. Therefore, he rarely ate good meals. His stomach rumbled at the thought of a rich meal. He always ate whatever came in his direction. He had not been shy of human flesh in the past. "I would welcome a fine meal. I will tell you all I know."

He was not just being generous with information here, perhaps the woman could add to his own knowledge. Perhaps he could figure out if it was still worth investigating. He should've done so much earlier, when he had still been the luitenant here. When it was owned by no one. If the woman declined, he'd have to come back after dark, to look around uninvited. He didn't like the thought of that; he would be a prime suspect, especially since he'd have to dispose of any guards in a most final manner. No, a diplomatic solution was much preferable here. Besides, the old hag could take an arrow for him if need be.

[Andavariel]

Andavariel nodded in reply to his answers, although she seemed almost absent minded about listening to him at that moment, perhaps distracted by the business of following the path back to the Manor that she had been most unceremoniously dumped in by Grent's people the other brightening. While it was not prudent for a woman to invite a stranger back to a house in which they lived alone, some part of Andavariel was definitely getting bored with the intricacies of local politics. She was not a blood thirsty creature, but she understood the excitment and the vitality that came with being a warrior.

Understood it a little, through half forgotten memory, it was true; but understood all the same.

They arrived at the Manor, although not by the more impressive front of the building, but by the utilitarian side doors. Once upon a time the owner would have used this door upon arriving home from a hunting party. The entrance hall, though sparce and dusty, was more finely done than the servants entrance, and high above in the ceiling was a chandelier that had not seen candles for many a pattern. There was good light in the room though, and Anda led the man, Tachus, through to a warm and cosy kitchen which was lit mainly by the fire in the huge cooking hearth. It was not stoked to full potential, but there was no need to do that to feed a party of one.

In the centre was a large wooden table with a few chairs set about it, some herbs hanging from the trellis that hung from the ceiling above it. The kitchen looked bare, except for a chair that appeared as though it must have belonged to another part of the house and was now placed near the fire. Big and comfy. A few cooking utensils were here and there, and a the smell of a slowly cooking but simple stew permeated the room -intercut here and there with the wood smoke and the smell of old furniture.

"This is simple, I fear, Guild Master Rusalaem, but I have had little time to prepare my new home for visitors."

She indicated that he should sit, and set about serving him the stew in some simple glazed bowls, and handed him a steel fork. She took some for herself, and seated herself at the huge cooking table, hungrily devouring her bowl of beef & potato stew. I'm always so hungry these days"

"Tell me more about these Brothers in Arms. I have not heard anything of this guild, but then Frigid River is more than a little isolated these days, with all the trouble in Mystique. What is your creedo and purpose, are you planning to set up a Chapter here?"

She spooned more of the slop into her mouth. It seemed that this elf was not as civilised as she might want some people to believe, and her cooking; though eatable, was not to the standard that one might expect of a lady who lived in such a large place. She looked at Tachus, her expression pensive, and those glorious amber eyes of her deepening in colour as she considered what she knew about him so far.

So far, so good; or is this to me a mistake I shall regret?