Harvey
Valkrin Farensun
Tonate Proper 

Valkrin shifted in his chair, still not used to the chest plate and other bits of armor he now wore as a uniform. "I'll look past it this time, seeing as you're not accustomed to who you're dealing with yet. Most men aren't filled with glee to cross paths with Valkrin fucking Farensun." He pulled at his chest plate again, taking a draw of his cigar. 

A guardsman came by, greeted the Captain and then the Admiral, and gave a passing glance to Roach before leaning in and whispering in Valkrin's ear. "Right, well tell him if he doesn't like his post, come tell me about it and I'll beat him till he does like it." Valkrin turned to the others as the guard left. "Sorry about that, business. Some of the guards can't accept their roles, old captain must not have had a spine. Whole fuckin island's about to be chock full of people who might take a crack at the King and they're bitching about being posted in the slums."
Mark
**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**
**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper**

Retto smiled into his rum. '*Nice t' see tha' 'is ego 'asnt changed a bi'*' he thought to himself as he took another swig. Retto nodded to the guard who addressed him. However, he could agree with Valkrin's next statement. "I'll tell ye wha', Valkryn. Anyone who takes a crack a' Bradai Maith 'ere in Tonate o' all places woul' 'ave t' be really fuckin' stupid, or 'ave a death-wish, because I can assure ye, they woul' far prefer dyin' where they stood than if we go' a 'old o' em for it. Bu' I agree wit' ye. If all th' guards can make it through these posts for just a couple o' days, tell em tha' I'll buy em all a drink, 'ow about tha'?" 

He turned to Roach. "Ye 'ere for th' festival too, Roach, or are ye 'ere on othe' matters?"
Rhonda
Silas Asgarov
Tower of the Seneschal, The Maith Mansion

_"That"_ Silas sat back down at his desk and thumbed back to the slip of ribbon he was using as a bookmark, "Is a good story." 

As far as he was aware, he was the only Silas Asgarov. "It is not typical for a family like mine to reuse names. It's considered bad luck for that very same reason. Bad luck to put all of your hopes and dreams into a child. Can you imagine if I was to name a child of mine SIlas, and they were to turn out more powerful than me?" He did not know what was worse, being dethroned or watching a woman have his child. He shuddered at the thought. "I'd kill have to strangle him in his cradle. You should be glad that the original Puckgordon did not do the same for you." 

When Puck placed the candle beside his desk, he moved it slightly to the right, so that it was easier to read by it's light. "I would ask you how your great great grandfather was a monster, but you, my young Puckgordon, have leeches to get. You will go to the Stilts and every leecherman you see for the biggest catches of the day. We have the privilege of having leeches as long as a forearm, and by the Gods we will abuse that advantage." 

He looked up from his book at the boy through dark, half lidded eyes. "You _do_ know how to get to the Stilts, correct? Today is a festival."
Martha
Roach
Hangman's Harbour, Tonate Proper

*Most, but not all.* Roach nodded his head, deciding that silence would be better than running his mouth further. So he listened quietly along to their conversation, questions darting rapidly through his head but not daring to leave his mouth. Retto had it under wraps, anyway. He was watching, nonetheless, enthused by getting to see the two acting so *Natural*. It was certainly odd to not be seeing them all proper and done up, like they had been in the paintings and tales, but so very human that it made things feel so much more real for Roach—

He snapped out of his thoughts as his name is said. "For the festival, yes. Hopefully, for a chat with the King over matters regarding Python, though I'm sure that can wait for another time. He'll likely be too busy to want to discuss it." Roach gave a curt laugh. "This is my first go about with an event this large, though. So many people here, the excitement is contagious." He looked to Valkrin again, now containing his giddiness much better. "I'd almost argue a guard that complains about their job isn't trustworthy enough to keep our good King safe. I'm glad to see someone as competent as yourself handling that behaviour appropriately."
John
Puck
The tower of the Seneschal

Puckgordon stood in front of Silas with a sort of look in his eyes, like some sort of realization that hit him within the words Silas spoke. "Well." He said abruptly. "Well, I don't think it was in honor. I'm the youngest. I'm sure my family just ran out of things to call their spawn." He said with a snarky undertone. Not too happy of a family, it seemed. He crossed his arms.

Puck listened to Silas talk about proper leech size, Puck became sullen again, nodding once. "I didn't leave the Mansion much, but I know where the Stilts are, at least." He said quietly. Of course, he'd go to the place with some form of marshy water, even if it was really not that similar. He picked up the bucket. "Do you..." He paused at the door, turning back. "Well, could a leech fuck itself? Since it's a boy and a girl?" He turned back toward the door. "Do they just choose who gets to fuck who? Can they fuck each other and both have babies?" He shook his head. "Sorry." He said simply, opening the door. "I'll fill the bucket up." He said.
Rhonda
Silas Asgarov 
The Tower of the Seneschal

Silas did not look up from his work while the boy rattled off his series of leech related questions, but he did give a small smile.

"There is no gate to the Stilts. You must go through the Mizzen District and out the Stony Gate into Dusttown. Circle down and around the castle wall and cross Tenley's Bridge, and you'll be in the Stilts." 

"And Puck?" The man looked up at his apprentice, and held up a hand, numbering off the answers in the same order they were posed, "No. They're not, they're neither. They do. Yes." 

When Silas closed his splayed hand, the sapphire in his ring seemed to catch ablaze with power. When the door swung open by itself, the show globes above them swayed noisily as if pushed by a nonexistent wind, but eventually settled and stopped their creaking. "Come back before midday. We will be accompanying the King to the Mizzen. He has asked to see your progress, but you will not speak unless spoken to. He asked for you personally to Squire for the unprepared men at the tourney. Is that something you think you'll be capable of, or should I find another boy instead?"
John
Puck 
The tower of the Seneschal

Puckgordon stiffened at the thought of the King having anything to do with him. He respected him loosely, probably right beneath Silas on the list of respect, but he didn't like getting judged.

He turned his head away to yawn, shaking his head a little before turning back to Silas. "I can. Suppose." He glanced off. "I'm not..." He sighed. "As long as I can just... Work alone with 'em. No other squire around." He raised his eyebrows. "I don't think I'd be able to help myself if..." He closed his eyes. What was he saying? Was he *Trying* To get in trouble? "I'd... I'd just prefer to work alone. I can get it done faster." He said, bowing shallowly. "Anything else, uh, Sire?"
Harvey
Valkrin Farensun
Tonate Proper 

Valkrin finished his cigar and tossed the butt into a nearby ashtray, taking a look out the window to judge the time. He wanted to stop at his estate and check on Catarina, who'd been staying there since their encounter at the brothel. 

"Good thing I don't let run of the mill guardsmen handle King Maíth's security." He said to the young drow while getting up and straightening his uniform out. "Well gentlemen, this is where we part ways. Always a pleasure to see you Admiral, and I suppose it was good enough to meet you, Roach." 

He drew a rather large knife from a scabbard at his thigh, the handle made from an amber material that matched his eye, and set it on the table in front of the boy. "Bring that to the area where the King will be seated at the tournament, the guards know it as mine and will let you through. If he has time to talk about whatever the hell Python is, you can do it there." Valkrin went to the barkeep and told him to put any other drinks his companions ordered on his tab, which he never paid. Then bid the both of them goodbye as he walked out of the tavern, men tipping their hats as he left.
Rhonda
Silas Asgarov
The Tower of the Seneschal

Silas regarded the boy with a brief glance from his work.

"No."
John
Puck
The tower of the Seneschal.

"Kay."

He left, descending the stairs with bucket in hand.
Mark
**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**
**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper** 

"Aye, as always, Valkryn." Retto nodded back to the guard captain. He pointed to the knife on the table. "Well, I'd say there's ye ticket t' see King Bradai. 'E's usually quite busy, bu' 'e likes t' talk business wit' those in 'is company. I'm sure 'e'll make time for ye." Roach was certainly one of the more interesting characters he had met. Retto began to wonder if all that speculation about the degeneracy of nonhumans was true. Roach didn't seem to fit the stereotype at all. 

"Anyways, Velkryn Farensun is qui' a characte'. Tha' knife there migh' be th' nicest thin' e's done for a strange'. I 'ope ye achieve wha' it is yer 'ere t' do, Roach. Barer forbid I' doesn' work out, there is always room fer ye on th' *Siren*. I can always use good men wit' your enthusiasm. He rolled the unit cigar in his fingers. Retto never cared much to smoke, a bard wasn't much good with blacklung and smoker's throat.
Rhonda
Silas Asgarov 
The Tower of the Seneschal

About ten minutes later, Silas realized that he had sent his apprentice into the city with vomit stained pants and no shirt. Not wanting to go down the stairs, he hoped his apprentice would have the sense to clothe himself before heading out into the city. If he had heard any tales of a shirtless castle boy he'd wring his neck in front of the King.
John
Puck
Somewhere

He grabbed his shirt on the way out AND HE DIDNT PUKE ON HIS PANTS. He had thrown up often enough to know how to dodge it well. He'll be fine.
Marguerite
Catarina Tanner
Tonate Proper

She stood in front of the mirror, gazing blankly at her reflection. Overall, she seemed to have adjusted well to this new life, but in all actuality, she was just going through the motions. She lived comfortably, physically, tended to by various servants in this much, much too large house. She couldn't call it a home. It was just an estate, filled with bits and baubles from Valkrin's travels. 

Yet she found herself largely out of place here, like one of Valkrin's treasures from a far away land, sitting on a shelf here in the middle of Tonate. Thankfully, most of the time she was kept busy working for Valkrin: running errands, collecting dues brought to her by Valkrin's men, and whatever else he bid her do. She wanted to hate him, just as Alofen had, but she couldn't. She couldn't deny that she owed him. Because of him, she had a comfortable place to live, her debts were gone, and she was kept busy with work that, usually, left her with little time to dwell on her troubles.

She sighed softly, reaching up to carefully pin her hair into place. *Perhaps I should go to the festival...* She mused. It had been a long, long time since she had really done anything fun, and perhaps this would be a nice change of pace. 

*But why?* She thought with a shake of her head. *What's the use?*
Harvey
Valkrin Farensun
Tonate Proper

Valkrin barged through the front door to his estate house, quickly waving off the servants that rushed to the entrance. "Don't need your fucking help." He snarled in Soltongue, the servants having no idea what he said other than he was angry. 

He took off all the steel plates that covered his torso, dropping each one onto the floor with a loud bang. Continuing in his native tongue, he called out for Catarina. "Ms. Tanner, are you here? More importantly are you decent?" Not that he'd ever cared that a woman was decent, just she deserved better than most women. Valkrin had a short while before he had to leave to walk about the city and make sure his men were at their posts, and always enjoyed a conversation with his countryman.
Marguerite
Catarina Tanner
Tonate Proper

*Nothing like having a bull come barging into the damn china shop,* Catarina thought snidely. He made enough noise to wake the dead, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at Val's bellowing. She hadn't been expecting him, no, but she had since learned that no one could ever really predict when he'd be somewhere and what his plans were. He was a man that lived by his own rules.

She huffed and grumbled to herself, quickly finishing up with her hair and straightening her dress. Thankfully she was already mostly decent when Val came barging in to the house,though she wasn't about to dignify his bellering with an immediate response. Her pride, and her disdain for him, simply wouldn't let her. 

Now ready, she came out of her room and stood at the top of the steps, which looked down on the foyer that Val stood in. 

"What'y'ya want?" She replied rather bruskly, placing her hands on her hips.
Harvey
Valkrin Farensun
Farensun Estate, Tonate Proper 

As she stood there at the top of the stairs, Valkrin just looked at her for a brief moment, a slight smirk on his face. "Well don't you just look a damn sight for sore eye? Planning on heading out for the festival?" Valkrin removed his undershirt and took a looser one from one of his servants, throwing it on and buttoning it. 

"Merely wanted to check on you, make sure you hadn't run off to some rat hole in the slums. Do you have to look that pissed at me all the time? It's getting a bit old."
John
Puckgordon Snæch
On the way to the Stilts

Under the sun, it was even harder to stay awake. It was that kind of warmth that just wrapped you up in it, and even with his marred and raw back, it was a satisfying feeling, where you could just... Fall...

Puck stumbled a little, leaning on a nearby tree as he shook his head, opening his eyes wide to blink a few times and take a few long and deep breaths.

Pushing himself off the tree, he launched himself back into the path, shuffling along and skirting past groups of people that seemed to just be joyfully skipping along like some sort of *Happy* Group. It made Snæch's skin *Crawl*.

Swinging the bucket a little, the pretty boy rounded a corner, walking past a few houses. Time to get into some shade, hopefully, it would knock him out of his tiredness a little.
Marguerite
Catarina Tanner
Farensun Estate, Tonate Proper

"Run off? And miss out on the opportunity to annoy you? Never," She shot back. 

She flounced down the stairs, then leaned against the banister at the bottom. Truth be told, she always played a delicate balance with Val. She wanted to hate him, but she owed him and couldn't make it without him for now... He seemed to tolerate her snide remarks—even seemed amused by them, at times— but she couldn't be sure that he would forever. She was sure that some would not be forgiven, if she ever went too far.

"I thought about goin'," She replied, Soltongue sliding easily off her lips. She'd never admit it, but speaking in Soltongue was one of the few times she ever felt at home.