"So, if I may ask," Falnis remarks to one of the guards stationed a few feet away (in a gap between lyric composition while Nod experiments with the right-sounding chords to go with his new melody), "What brings a Prince of Thane to these provincial parts of Thane?"

He accompanies this with a friendly smile, apparently judging that-- whatever his personal feud with Marabir and Aerendir-- antagonising a group of more than twenty humans armed with ranged weaponry is a bad idea.

OOC: Dalmar Argant rolled 16 using 1d20+6.  Diplomacy Check (Guard).
Dalmar Argant rolled 27 using 1d20+10.  Gather Information Check.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:14, Thu 14 Mar 2019.

The guard sends Falnis a sideways glance which leaves the varim with no doubts about just how easy antagonising this particular group of humans might prove to be. The guard seems to be either under orders, or simply disinclined to answer Falnis' question, and proceeds to ignore him after a moment. Falnis' question is met by a question in turn by a gruff voice as a middle aged human man approaches. He is the only member of Tyronius' party not dressed in gleaming plate mail, instead wearing a dark leather tunic and pants, mud stained boots, and a worn travelling cloak.

"One might ask the same question of a varim wandering these parts," he says evenly as reaches Falnis, "A noble of House Orthran, eh?"

"I am indeed," Falnis says to the newcomer, gesturing to the jeweled insignia hanging around his neck and abandoning his attempt to extract information from the uncooperative guard. "And one might, if one wanted. One might even get an answer, which is more than I can expect from the average human, apparently. What is your name?"

The human regards him appraisingly for a moment, before giving a shrug.

"Calvorn," he replies, "I see you've made friends with Nod."

It is not clear who he feels is the more unfortunate in this situation.

"You two know each other?" Falnis says, arching an inquiring eyebrow.

He does not outright say that it is odd that this ragged, unfriendly stranger should know Nod, but his tone implies it. He also speaks loudly enough to make it clear that this question is also directed at Nod (though it's not clear if Nod, wrestling with chords, sharps, and flats, is in a state to hear him.)

Nod, quite engrossed in his efforts, frowns as he glances up, continuing to strum as he does so.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, he's one of the castle rangers."

"I see and hear a lot more of Nod than he does of me," Calvorn replies irritably, "His music is tolerable. Less so his talking."

"You know, coming from one of Vard's men that's almost a compliment," Nod replies brightly, ignoring the ranger's scowl as he returns to his chords.

"One of Vard's men, are you? No wonder you are over here risking the ill opinion of your fellow humans to attempt to extract information from me, Falnis says, sounding sympathetic. "Tell me, does the current Vard still need full reports every time you come across things like varim wandering in Thane, or was it just his great-grandfather who used to insist on those?"

OOC: Dalmar is shielding thoughts. (1MP).

Calvorn continues to scowl at Nod a moment longer, but as it becomes apparent that Nod is no longer paying him any attention he ceases in his efforts. He turns back to Falnis, forcing a disturbingly unnatural smile to his face.

"Varim have been free to wander these lands since the signing of the Adris Concordant eighty-seven years ago," he replies, "Though I am curious as to what a noble such as yourself is doing in these parts?"

He gets the impression that Falnis is as pleased with Nod's slip as he is annoyed by it.

"I am taking advantage of the peace treaty to hunt the local wildlife of Thane... or was, before the gallant Sir Varonil and his high-elf friend saw fit to steal my belongings to send to your Vard, for, and I quote, 'riding into town from the same direction that we happened to find a dead man in a ditch'. Perhaps you can assist me to get said possessions returned? I am-- perforce, due to my guess as to their rank-- restraining myself from taking action on this. However, my patience is not without its limits. I am sure you are as aware as I am of what the Adris Concordat has to say about either of our great nations stealing from each other and accusing each other on pretexts so slight, without bothering to provide any evidence at all."

OOC: Dalmar Argant rolled 41 using 1d20+27.  Bluff Check.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:10, Tue 20 Aug 2019.

"I am aware of what the Concordance says," Calvorn frowns, sending the tent in which Marabir is being treated by Aerendir a disapproving glance, before turning back to Falnis, "And what were these possessions?"

OOC: Calvorn Areldan rolled 18 using 1d20+5. Sense Motive.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:50, Sat 16 Mar 2019.

"A handful of private letters-- I need the originals, by the way, so kindly refrain from returning me forgeries, if that is still protocol for the current Vard-- a crossbow, and thirteen thousand carens' worth of poison. Aerendir is carrying most of them on his person, or was until he entered that healing tent."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:23, Sun 17 Mar 2019.

"I can assure you that is not the protocol of the 'current Vard'," Calvorn responds with questionable honesty, "Wait here."

Swiftly turning, the ranger stalks over to the tent, brushing aside the entrance flap as he ducks inside. Ignoring Marabir's condition, he stands over both the prince and Aerendir.

"Tell me you haven't stolen the property of a varim noble?" he says in a voice which suggests he feels this is too much to hope for from the pair.

OOC: Calvorn Areldan rolled 7 using 1d20. Bluff.

"If you aren't here to help with the healing, get lost," Aerendir snaps, ignoring his question.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:57, Sun 17 Mar 2019.

Calvorn seems quite accustomed to and unperturbed by this response. He also seems to take it as a confession of guilt.

"Are you trying to start a war?" he asks sourly, before glancing about, "All right, where is your pack?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:40, Sun 17 Mar 2019.

"He is an evil assassin who murdered a Thanian man. If anyone is starting that war, it's him. And why do you want to know where my pack is?"

"I assume you have some sort of proof of this?" Calvorn says in a tone which suggests he assumes very much the opposite. He ignores the second part of Aerendir’s response.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:54, Sun 17 Mar 2019.

"It depends on the intelligence and wisdom of the person who needs to be convinced by it," Aerendir retorts, in a tone that suggests he also thinks Calvorn may be lacking in these areas. "But when a Varim from House Orthran is wandering around in Northern Thane, saying he's 'hunting the local wildlife', when he reputedly arrived at town at exactly the time he'd be expected to if he'd done the killing, missing one crossbow bolt from his quiver that exactly matches the single, very accurately aimed bolt used to kill the man, and when he carries a letter saying, '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,'" Aerendir has paused in stitching up a gash on Marabir's arm to tick these evidences off one by one on one hand, "Then you really don't need to be a genius to know he is the killer. Besides, who carries black lotus extract around with them if they're just on a hunting trip?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:06, Sun 17 Mar 2019.

"I'm not the one you need to convince," Calvorn replies, narrowing his eyes at Aerendir's inferred suggestion, "It is the Mereldinor High Council who will require indisputable proof, and you know what they are like when it comes to weaselling their way out of things. And really, name one varim who isn't loaded with a dozen of Verun's most deadly poisons?"

He shakes his head darkly.

"Aerendir, why is it that every time you get out of Carendisal we almost have an inter-regional incident?"

Marabir winces as he lifts his head at this point to intervene on Aerendir's behalf.

"In his defense, Calvorn, it was I who suggested that we-"

"I'll get to you in a minute," Calvorn cuts him off with a scowl, "Running off to the heart of Caladorm territory without so much as a word to your father or the Council, with no one but Aerendir and, and Nod for protection! Do you have a death wish?"

"I can handle myself," Marabir replies defensively.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:52, Mon 18 Mar 2019.

"Yes, I can see that," Calvorn replies dryly.

Marabir scowls, opens his mouth, then closes it again, before lying back down once more in sullen silence.