All questions lead to...

Postby Carnath-Emory » Sun Sep 23, 2007 11:56 pm

Silence is not safety, unless you have a culprit's corpse in your hands -- and in Myrken Wood, even this has sometimes proven unreliable. For enduring proof, witness one Thadius Dhrin, thrice dead, and presently residing in a Constabulary cell despite it. But a glance at the swordswoman's expression will tell a person her opinion on this matter: that silence is respite, an opportunity to regroup and confer.

Oh, but there is so much more written there, if only briefly, for they have spoken of excruciatingly personal matters, and that is not quite their custom. It is certainly not Ariane's, and her features betray this: there is some real tension to the throat, the mouth; some very necessary distance within her gaze, which has wandered almost unceasingly, and found a home at last fixed at some point far past the Constable's shoulder. It's from there that she must return when the man speaks again, with some tiny motion of the head and a snap of unguarded eyes back to his; there is a devouring hardness there.

"Yes."

Simply that. Nothing more than confirmation is required, for this man with whom she'd spoken of monsters and their ways so long ago. To do more would require that she place her spirit upon display in this room, and she will spare both of them that. When she speaks again, it's with a throat moistened by ghastly jenever, fine antidote that it is to monstrous dealings, and with features that have remembered to be gentle.

"So. Galacia. Bromn. I tell you this now, that we send word to Lamai Carver -- do you recall her? She is gone to study in that Razasan that was Savoy's home, and we call her back to us far earlier than she'll like. She will forgive us this, because for so many months, her business was Altias Bromn; was the keeping of that 'witch from his mind."
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Postby Cinnabar » Mon Sep 24, 2007 10:21 pm

All that is needed, all that is necessary for now. A single affirmative from the swordswoman, and that has the Constable-Governor nodding faintly in turn, meeting the hardness of that gaze with level acceptance.

Somehow, conversation on matters in Myrken Wood always comes back to that one thing, that one word that sums up so much of what is awful about the place, so much of what plagues the land and its people. Monsters. And yet so many of Myrken's protectors are themselves fit to bear that title, name, epithet.

Monsters do that which most cannot, or would not, or will not.

"Lamai? Yes, I recall her." Some small confusion at the reference of the Savoys, but then a nod; Zalin Savoy, who wrought magics at Snowstill, and who presumably learnt such a skill somewhere.

"Whatever she can tell of the dreamwitch's work would be useful. That, and how to guard against it."
Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.
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Postby Carnath-Emory » Wed Sep 26, 2007 7:07 am

All that is necessary now. It is a readily-embraced notion, and rightfully so: the swordswoman is straightening in her seat at last, is turning a thoughtful eye between littered desktop and solemn Constable.

"A matter of days, for her return; perhaps not even that. I think - ah. She tells it far better than I. She will."

There are a hundred reasons to have caution with the likes of Lamai Carver, of course, and Calomel will discover these for himself quite aptly, or he will not. There is cause to have confidence in his handling of either likelihood. And there are questions yet, but then there always are, and this evening there is the convenience that he has already answered some unvoiced several of them. So that while Ariane spoke those words, it was with well-occupied hands: the litter of bread and meats and cloth is delivered back into the awful little basket from which it had sprung.

This is the work of minutes, and its end is that the woman stands at last, with that thing in hand, and the crumbs dusted neatly from her palms. The bottle of murky jenever, however, has gone unclaimed, and as she turns for the door there is some tilt of the chin to indicate it.

"Perhaps you keep that, mn? It is good for the spirit. Or for serving to stubborn Councilors -

m'Ser Governor."
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