Marabir frowns at the elf as she departs, shaking his head darkly.

Marabir doesn't think he's imagining the smug look the dark elf sends at him from behind Lyria's back as the possible assassin leads her off.

Despite his claims to Nod about not knowing the steps, this doesn't seem to be affecting the grace of his performance in any way. Either he is a quick learner, or he was lying.

OOC: Dalmar Argant rolled 41 using 1d20+22.  Perform (Dance) Check (-5 for unfamiliarity with Dance).

The woman, in contrast, does not seem at all familiar with the dance. That or the evening's ordeal has flustered her to such a degree that she is unable to focus on her timing and footwork. Or, the more feasible scenario, many a patron thinks, no one could look good dancing next to her partner. She smiles politely at the varim as they dance, but her gaze continues to dart towards the door and to Marabir.

OOC: Lady Lyria Veldorn rolled 10 using 1d20+8. Perform (dance).
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Thu 30 Dec 2021.

Marabir smiles encouragingly at the lady as her eyes meet his, but the moment she looks away he resumes his frown, directed at the varim as he seats himself next to Aerendir, pulling out another of the letters and reading it with deliberate intent.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:02, Thu 30 Dec 2021.

It's the varim's turn to send Marabir a dark look before he himself is forced to adopt a bland smile as the lady turns back to him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:03, Thu 30 Dec 2021.

Falnis does not imagine he catches a smug smile playing at the corner of Marabir's mouth as he begins to read the letter.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:04, Thu 30 Dec 2021.

The next letter seems to be a bit more incriminating.

It is Her Will that you will journey to the barbaric lands of Northern Thane. One there has uncovered what he should not. He does not know what he holds. See that he never does, and ensure that it returns once more to its rightful place.

For the Glory of the Dark One,

Marabir glances grimly at Aerendir.

"We need to get a look inside that cloak," he murmurs.

"We do. Are you volunteering to knock him out in a private backroom? I doubt we'll manage to peel it off him by any other method."

"I doubt he will be obliging enough to enter a private backroom with us," Marabir replies wryly as he refolds the letter, "And we still do not have enough proof to arrest him officially."

The guard captain seems to have managed to pick his way through the crowd to their table.

"Well, I'm afraid I'd best be getting back to that body," he says, leaning in closer to be heard over the laughter and commotion about them, "Unfortunately I don't think we'll be arresting a varim this day. I'll try to follow up whatever leads I can on the identity of the dead man, but I'll be honest, I don't like my chances. I hope you have a pleasant journey, Sir Varonil, and that you don't come across any more corpses. Or varim," he adds with a dark glance at the stage. With a polite nod he turns and slips out of the room.

"Back when I first came to Thane, we didn't let things like lack of evidence stop us from arresting guilty varim," Aerendir says, unimpressed. "Like it or not, this is your chance to arrest your murderer. Just because he's popular shouldn't stop you from locking him up."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:02, Wed 16 Jan 2019.

"Back when you first came to Thane we didn't have a treaty with Mereldinor," Marabir replies firmly, "We have no proof that these letters were written to him, and unless you plan on locking him up permanently, word of his treatment will eventually get back to Mereldinor. Regretfully, I'm afraid that we shall have to let Falnis go free. Still, I shall pass these letters to Vard upon our return. Perhaps his agents can put them to use. Keep them on your person. I don't want our saddlebags being raided by him or his allies."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:54, Wed 16 Jan 2019.

"I will," Aerendir says, with the air of someone who had already been planning to do that. "At least we'll get something out of this if we really can't put an arrow in him."

The waltz comes to an end, and with much laughter, chatting and panting, the patrons about them begin to once more take their seats, ordering another round of drinks which the delighted bartender is only too happy to provide.

Nod bows to another round of thundering applause, before leaping lightly from the stage.

"Care to join us?" he invites both Falnis and the lady, "I believe the evening's interrogation may be over, and I think you and Varonil may have got off on the wrong foot."

The woman, flushed from either the exertion or the attention and applause being directed at her and Falnis, glances at the varim, then back to Nod.

"I would be honoured," she says at length, accepting his hand as she climbs down from the stage.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:07, Thu 30 Dec 2021.

"As would I," Falnis lies, smiling, his eyes on Aerendir's front pocket where his letters are.

OOC: Dalmar Argant rolled 29 using 1d20+26.  Bluff Check.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:18, Wed 16 Jan 2019.

"Excellent!" says Nod pleasantly as he leads the way over to the table.

OOC: Nod the Minstrel rolled 19 using 1d20. Sense Motive.

Behind them, the barman makes short work of clearing up the scattered carens and gelds tossed earlier on the floor, since it seems like neither of the intended recipients is interested in them.
This message was last updated by the player at 12:41, Sat 30 Mar 2019.

Nod certainly seems to have little interest in them, ignoring the reproving glances thrown in the bartender's direction.

"Allow me to introduce my patron, Sir Varonil," he says to the lady as he reaches the table, withdrawing a chair for her to sit on, "And this is Aerendir. And this..." he says to his companions, faltering as he realises he does not know the young lady's name.

"I am Lady Lyria Veldorn," the woman curtsies before taking the proffered seat. She then turns expectantly to the varim.

"That's Falnis," Marabir informs her dismissively, before smiling politely, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady. I hope you will forgive my inquisitiveness, but are you all right? You seemed to be quite distressed by that mercenary."

Lyria's face darkens.

"I thank you for coming to my assistance," she nods sincerely, "In truth my plight is desperate."

Falnis spares only a short glance of irritation at Marabir for leaving off the title parts of his name. Most of his irritation seems to be reserved for Aerendir, who has put one booted foot on the seat of the only free chair next to him, and who is watching the varim with open hostility.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:54, Wed 16 Jan 2019.