conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: deepsear: Awakened in the night, hushed whispers not to talk, are all you remember of this morning. You both briefly saw your parents, with tear-stained kerchiefs, watching you ramble away in a carriage. For a few hours you slept again, not understanding, but then you awakened following a large bump. After easily jumping out of the carriage taking you to the unknown, you gather your bearings. It is about midday, for all you can tell, for the clouds and fog obscure the daytime. The wagon is heading north into the wilds. To your left you can see the mountains of Avarik. Perfect. Just as the letter entailed, you both can continue your quest to assassinate Konrad. Ahead is a small shanty in the middle of an apple orchard. Off to the south the faint mirage of a lage city shimmers. The plains around you are... pretty darn flat. 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Flickerdart: Fragonard admitted to himself that this was probably a bad idea. For one, the dull and flat plains around him were nothing like his beloved seas. This robbed the venture of much of its inherent excitement. He wondered if his companion would be of any use if action ever came, or if he was like the rest of those idiots, content to sit here and do nothing.
  Bereft of anything to do, he directed his eyes to the apple orchard. The trees moving in the wind reminded him of waves, but even so they had about them the stillness inherent in anything firmly planted in the ground. The shanty, on the other hand, looked dynamic enough to take flight any second. Jules decided this was mainly because of the "untraditional" shape of the building. And what could you expect from a shanty? One in an orchard, no less. Maybe some sort of retired old man that once ruled the high seas? Unlikely.
  Busy with these idle thoughts, Jules surveyed the landscape, the orchard, the shanty, his accomplice, the landscape again and so on. It occurred to him that two men do not make a decent assassination attempt, especially if the two men weren't trained for the job. Could this guy perhaps be the smooth-talker that would get him, the guy who actually does the work, close enough to their mark? Fragonard sincerely hoped so. He detested intrigue almost as much as he did this boring, slow trip.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Eldan: While Valerian at least attempted to look unfazed, his mind was racing, mostly in circles.
   They drag me out in the middle of the night, without any preparation at all and then send me off on a mission? What were they thinking? This is even more suicidal than I first thougth. 
  He looked at his companion.
   Fancy guy. Probably one of those noblemen who spend their time doing artsy stuff. 
  He was well aware of the irony.  He  was probably the last man on earth who should call someone else a lazy nobleman.
  Then he looked around the countryside again, an eyebrow raised.
   And nothing important around here. And very... flat. I don't like it. No cover, no houses, no cities. Probably too many commoners. 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: deepsear: The pitted dirt road is awful. A large rock behind you is probably what jolted you awake from your sleep. Jumping from the carriage wasn't hard, because it wasn't moving that fast. What were your parents trying to do, abducting you in the middle of the night... 
   The small farm is merely a one-room shanty with a ramshackle barn and a small pen of pigs. 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Flickerdart: Fragonard stretches his legs after a goodly time spent cooped up in the wagon. Looking over his companion, he cleared his throat.  "So."  he said after a while.  "I've never seen you before. if we're going to go assassinating kings, might as well introduce ourselves first."  he finished stretching and bowed, making it all too clear this was a sarcastic gesture.  "My name is Jules, of the house Fragonard. And who might you be?" 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Eldan: Valerian didn't even bother bowing, he just made some quick gesture with his left hand, a kind of annoyed handwave.
   "I'm Valerian. And don't worry, I don't like you either. So, were do we go from here on?" 
  He turned round and started looking up and down the road.
   "This is really the middle of nowwhere." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Flickerdart: Jules was relieved that this fellow wasn't much for formality. It didn't mean he was pleasant, but at least there would be one less reason to want to skewer him repeatedly.
   "Horses. We need horses."  he said promptly. "Unless you love walking through the countryside that much. Considering there isn't any place but that orchard for miles, we might as well try there." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Eldan: Valerian nodded.
   "Seems logical. Let's go." 
  He made his way toward the orchard, the look on his face one of general unhappyness about being forced to actually walk through places were commoners normally are.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Flickerdart: Jules takes a good look around, noting anything unusual, interesting, or anything else that isn't a tree.  "Yoo-hoo! Anyone there?"  he hollers.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: deepsear: As you approach the orchard, you notice three paint horses materialize out of the mist. All of them are tethered behind the house, which is probably why you did not see them at first glance. A young boy, probably about 13, peeks around the corner and then runs off into the trees. He comes back a few minutes later with what seems to be his dad. 
  
  " May I help you gentlemen? "
  He politely and frigidly asks.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Eldan: Valerian looks at the man with an expression of badly disguised disgust.
  "Greetings... good man. We need two horses."
  He seems to believe that no further explanation is needed at the momen.