Laszlo slipped into the Elderwood, glancing back to check on the women following. Siriel was pointing out shops and prattling about local landmarks, all knowledge from the thief's head. The mage was terse, eyes sweeping about under her dark hood. Laszlo concentrated on a convincing history for the shield maiden.<br/><br/>He made his way to the small tavern on the first floor and signaled to the husky inn keep.<br/><br/>"Those two," he pointed to the women sweeping through the door, "are my guests, their expenses go on my tab." He handed the man a single gold coin, and received a silent nod and a warm pint. Laszlo glanced around the room. There were a few gruff men in the corner, playing at dice. He could see the winner's excitement, but the smell was smothered by the blue pipe smoke issuing from the glassy eyed greybeard by the fireplace.<br/><br/>Still yammering, Siriel sidled to a table against the wall, and waved at the inn keep, "Two of your finest, love," She settled into one of the rough chairs. Hood down, Laszlo kept an ear to their conversation, Siriel's sordid past completely laid out in his head. Getting Cassandra's cooperation had been difficult enough, her trust would require great control of Siriel, the spectral shield maiden had to be convincing. She began.<br/><br/>"So then love, I gave you my word, seeing as your foes are a touch further off than mine, I'll introduce you to my past first, seeing as you'll likely hear from them's in it sooner." The inn keeper dropped two foamy mugs on the table, Siriel clutched hers and leaned back. "Neither of us dare show their face around the greater part of this city, you for that trifle on your cheek, and I for a mark I received a long time ago on my dignity. You wouldn't know it from the sermons you hear at temple these days, but used to be that people didn't raise a fuss when there was a pair of breasts behind a breastplate." She grinned and tapped hers with the mug, spilling some of her ale in the process. "I was in the service then, a lady paladin, off a'questing with some old clergymen, had to guard the old farts on their way out to the elven woods, Ronana. Some stupid bugger up top'd come up with the idea of setting up a mission, converting the elves." She snorted, "Well, for some daft old fool's naivety, my companions and I fought many a nasty bout with bandits out in the wilds, must've been after the golden tabernacle we were hauling out to the mission. I caught a few arrows myself." She sighed, her free hand drifted to her belly. Behind her a commotion broke out as one of the gamblers noticed the stoned man by the fireplace had caught flame. He giggled as the frenzied man patted it out. Siriel spilled more ale as she turned to look. A bead of sweat ran down Laszlo's face. He nursed his mug.<br/><br/>Siriel turned back, "Well if that were all there was to the story, we wouldn't be here enjoying the ale and gentlemanly company. As it happened, when we finally arrived at the mission, of the ones who'd survived, I had the best sword arm, and so when time came for Father Langley to venture into the woods, I was the diplomatic arrow stopper." She sneered, "Well, getting us out of there was bound to take a miracle, and gods know a miracle did happen in that forest, I met my husband, gods rest his soul." She smiled and reached up a hand up to shift a few strands of grey hair, her gaze lost in reverie, "You wouldn't know it now, but in my time, I was quite the eyeful, and this ranger, Maelven, the one who found us, he was quite taken with me." She adjusted her grey hairs again and locked eyes with Cassandra, gripping her ale again tightly, "Now normally, a proper girl like me wouldn't throw in with heathen types, but the elf had such a such a skilled tongue," She gestured with her mug and grinned, sloshing a bit more over the side, "By which I mean he had a gift at speech, though gods know he had other gifts as well. Y'see we were in that elf village an awful long time, about a year and a half, and time changes a young lady, even changed Father Langley, gods bless him, by the end he was ready to carry a dip-lo-matic mission back here, try to bridge the gap between us and the elves. While he and the Fey tended those matters, Maelven and I, well gods know we'd have had a few children of our own had a bandit's arrow not struck me barren as the rock of Red Stone, but then I suppose it was all for the best," Her speech drifted off and she touched her belly again, mug sloshing in hand. The gamblers got up and paid their bill. One sobbed leaning on the other, who sternly admonished his stupidity. The winner tipped the inn keep a heavy gold coin and retired to his room upstairs. Laszlo focused, the last lines had to be convincing, a strong finish. The opiate fiend snored.<br/><br/>"You see, it turned out the boys at the mission'd thought Langley and I dead for all that long time. They sent the cavalry in, retaliatory strike." She stared at her nearly empty mug, "Village was razed, Maelven slain, and Langley and I clapped in irons, both of us being heretic dissidents. The old priest died on the march back, I'd have died too were it not for those bandits. Managed to escape during a raid." She set her hands at her thighs, wry wrinkles settling along her face as she smiled once more at Cassandra, "Well, like me mum always said, 'A woman has no business growing old alone.' Very true. Had I been saddled with few of Maelven's babes that'd be the end of my adventure, I'd have holed up somewhere in the wilds and raised'em." Siriel fixed a steely gaze on Cassandra, "But on my own, I got these funny ideas of revenge, striking back at the one's who'd taken it all away from me. So I did what any daft widow would do and rounded up the other survivors from the elf village, and we burned the Ronana mission to the ground." She set her mug on the table, and leaned back in her chair, "Since then, my friends and I have been spying all throughout the human lands, sending what news we can back to the woods, as a human, and a native to the city, only made sense for me to be the sneak here in Ai."<br/><br/>Siriel leaned over the table, setting her chin on her hands, measuring Cassandra with her gaze, "Now we're on equal footing, I run outside and scream 'witch' and they'll run you out, you let it out I'm a spy and I'm hung at dawn. You seem the nice type miss, and I've no quarrel with mages, but before I offer you any kind of protection I need know, what crime brought you here to Ai?"<br/><br/>Laszlo let out a deep sigh, and downed the rest of his pint, waving the inn keeper over to refill it. Thunderstorms, hails of arrows, and castles made of glass were infinitely easy illusions compared to a properly crafted personality, he'd cursed himself for buying both their drinks, any sip Siriel would've taken would spill right through her lips onto the chair, but he'd managed to lose most of a pint without her drinking. Again it all came down to the flighty mage. If he was lucky there may be some loot to be had this night, if not he may need to find a new inn.