Vying For Attention

Hawk's Aerie 


 * ''The sprawling township of Hawk's Aerie is one of the plushest, wealthiest and most politically important settlements in the realm of Fastheld, poised as it is at the fork of River Road and the Imperial Thoroughfare, with control over the economically vital Fastheld Wharfs and the strategically critical access point of the bridge that spans the Fastheld River to Aegis Road.


 * ''Founded five centuries ago by Edran Nillu, the bustling riverport town has been a primary source of that noble house's cache with the throne on Caryas Hill and the guilds of the Market District, and has enabled the Nillus to establish themselves as an economic powerhouse.


 * The streets are kept clean of garbage and filthy peasants as much as possible. The elegant stone and wood buildings are kept in fine repair. It is rumored that the ravens of Hawk's Aerie get their talons polished, morning and night.

A young man sits comfortably on the edge of the town well, tearing into a loaf of bread with obvious relish. He doesn't quite fit in - his clothes are travel-stained and worn, his overall aspect a heck of a lot.. well.. rougher than the district usually attracts or allows to stay. Even so, he seems to be being left alone - that mark high on his cheek, half black, half white, may have something to do with that.

Looking quite the opposite perched regally atop her mount and garbed in flowing emerald and scarlet attire is the staunch, formidable figure of Xerun Nillu. There is something slightly haughty in her air, and even the clop-clop of her horse as it ventures into the square from the southerly road rings across the cobbles pretentiously. Her goal is, at first, unclear until she tugs the reins enough to turn Howard toward the sidestreet leading into the neat stash of houses just off of the square. At first she spares no glance for the odd looking little man sitting near the well, but as her horse's steps slow, her gaze wanders long enough to land on him. The vision is one to turn her expression from a docile boredom into blatant disgust, tight-lipped and scornful.

Said little man watches the horse with undisguised curiosity, his own shabby appearance a marked contrast to even the guards nearby, much less the noble on horseback. Whether he's observant of her expression of disgust or just chooses to ignore it is hard to say - he actually has the audacity to duck his head in a sort of greeting - and then tear into another bit of bread.

The noblewoman refuses to acknowledge the nod, instead tilting her chin up as she draws near the stables and dismounts in one fluid movement. The hem of her gown flutters as she skirts briskly 'round side the mount and hands off the reigns to an innocent stable boy - accompanied by coin, of course. "Fresh water, cold, and oats - no hay. That gives him a touch of a stomach pain and he won't gallop..." The instructions continue, although the woman lowers her voice enough that only those with above perfect hearing could catch her words. When she finishes, she turns to face the square again as she pulls her gloves more tightly onto her fingers and scans the area with a thoughtful gaze.

The youth doesn't stop watching - given the usual state of the crossroads in this weather, it's likely safe to assume this is the most interesting thing he's seen all day. He chews absently, offering across the .. wide.. intervening space, "Lady - watch yer dress. Wouldnae want t' see th' mud get tae it." He seems in a good humor. "If yer lookin' fer somethin' around here, I might kin point ye in the right way, an' all."

From Haste's saddle, From the south comes the trot of another horse, its rider wearing clothes of no particular beauty and a wolfskin cloak over. Lucius rides Haste towards the stables, a pleasant expression on his face.

At first it seems Xerun may not reply to the man nor even acknowledge his address, but after a moment of staring pointedly in the opposite direction, she steers her sharp green gaze about to glance over the poor sot. Her thin lips all but disappear as she presses them into a tight, stern line of disapproval, but reappear as she opens her mouth to form some likely tart, curt reply. Her attention is distracted, however, by the appearance of a more put-together man, and she squints a bit as she watches his horse trot in toward the stables.

The youth just shrugs, shifting to prop a leg up on the well beside him. He's got a quarter-loaf of bread left, and eating is an important thing. The Mark on his cheek draws a stern second look from a nearby guard as the fellow chews - after a moment, he calls out again, "Really, Lady. S' no trouble."

Haste 's hooves continue to go CLOP, CLOP, CLOP on the nearly frozen cobblestones as his rider urges the large, well groomed horse to a slowdown and then a stop at the side of the stables. Lucius arches an eyebrow at the Marked citizen, offering him a wry grin. Surprisingly it is this man that is first adressed. "Afternoon, lad. How're things at the Aerie, eh?" Then he swivels his gaze to the noblewoman, offering a polite incline of the head. It might be uncertain if this were proper for an average citizen to do to a well-dressed noble, but he doesn't appear to correct this as he swings off of Haste's saddle. "M'lady."

Xerun's reply dissolves and she takes a moment to ignore the unwarranted nod - and in her graciousness apparently allows the misdeed to slide by unresolved. Instead, she focuses on arranging her cloak about her in an orderly fashion and, stepping lightly over the cobbles with skirts lifted just so, she moves at a leisurely, lady-like pace toward the tavern. Nary a glance is offered to the two nor any sort of greeting; instead, she focuses her gaze on the tavern door with an uplifted chin and a calm expression.

The youth flashes an oddly warm grin at the fellow on Haste, "Nobody's but up 'n died recent, if that's what yer askin'." He waves a hand up the road. "Countess 's in her manor. 's cold. About sums the lot o' it up." He stands then, tucking that last bit of bread into a worn pouch at his belt, crossing - somewhat diffidently - towards the two travellers. "Y' here for trade o' jus' stoppin' through?" He watches the lady go towards the Tavern with a vaguely bemused expression, calling to her back.. "Watch out for th' stew.. 'm thinkin' th' let th' venison go a bit long."

Lucius Nepos raises a hand towards Kael, shaking his head. "I wouldn't bother so much with her. It's her right to ignore us.. that's why she's our better. Countess is here? Woulda been nice for her to tell me.. I work directly for her." He chuckles, in any case, grabbing an obsidian dagger from his saddlebags and sliding it into an evidently hidden sheath under his left bracer. "Maybe a little bit of both, eh? Depends how much I can bring in for what they've got here." Despite the fact he's speaking to Kael, he regards Xerun curiously as she walks away.

At the mention of a specific Countess, Xerun's steps halt; on one hand, it is undecorous to eavesdrop, but on the other - it is a public space and the conversation could hardly be considered private... The woman's internal battle - once visible on her features - ceases, and a peculiar calm falls over her sturdy form as she turns slowly once more to face the men who linger only a handful of steps away. Nevermind the glance cast her way, although it is met with one pointedly arched eyebrow and a knowing gaze. Instead she addresses them in an surprisingly pleasant tone accompanied by a small smile: "Good evening, gentlemen."

Lucius Nepos chuckles. "Depends what kind'o wine you get from her. I haven't really been all around Sweewater yet to see what the vineyards have to offer so.. I can't say anything. Lucius Nepos." The Constable sticks out his hand towards Kael. "Work for Sahna?" The Viscountess's arrival seems to take him by surprise. Again, he offers a polite bow of the head. "M'lady." He is, as yet, cheerfully unaware at who exactly she is.

Kael eyes the hand with a certain suspicion, before shrugging and shaking it firmly - his hands are cold and calloused affairs. "Kael Firelight, Alan's son. No - I just got a job wi' th' Mistress Woodsong, o'er at th' leatherworkers. Strong back 'n weak mind, 'n all that." When the lady speaks, however, he turns to face her, "Evenin', lady." He remains oddly diffident to both travellers. He asides to Lucius, though, "Was 'er own vintage. Don' let her ply 't on ye."

The nod is returned with one in kind, and Xerun's small smile lingers as her attention shifts to the Marked man with no change in expression. "I hope the Light keeps you in good health," she begins, and the words are an obvious formality as they are dispensed quickly in a recited tone before dismissed altogether. She continues with: "I happened into town in hopes of making a call on someone, but was unaware as to whether or not she were home or abroad. You two seem to have all of the particulars, however, of the whereabouts of the more prominent figures; did one of you mention the Countess is, indeed, in for the present? By the by, I do appreciate the warning on the tavern's food as I am quite particular. Hmm?" Her words are pronounced in full with emphasis on each hard consonant as if she were making sure she has a firm grip upon the language. She glances between the two with a pleasantly /vapid/ expression, lifting her brows and apparently awaiting a response.

Lucius Nepos smiles, his own hands much the same - that's what one gets for not wearing gloves and working years as a tradesman and soldier. "Ah yes, Mistress Woodsong's a good woman. Hard worker. You've done yourself good by getting a job from a Guildmistress, eh? You a leatherworker by trade, Firelight?" The he looks back at the noblewoman, arching an eyebrow. He makes eye contact with her without a second though, apparently, pointing at Kael. "He seems to have all of the particulars, m'lady. I'm her Constable in Sweetwater but she didn't tell me she was coming here. But I don't expect her to, either, since I'm only in her employ." His smile remains stationary.

The marked fellow may be a lot of things, but - as he stands near the stables talking with both travellers - he certainly seems respectful enough. "Yes, ma'a.. er.. m'Lady. Th' Countess was here as o' last eve. Couldnae tell ye if she's left 'day, but.." He ducks his head, "And yer very welcome - I try t' keep folks out o' trouble, when I can." To Lucius, he's - a bit - more comfortable. "No, sir. Jus' a hand passin' through."

The Viscountess hems and hmms as she processes the information and, after a moment of allowing the two to converse on their own, interjects into the conversation once more. "I have never made a call on the Countess before," she says slowly, mulling the words over as she focuses once more on Lucius. "I would be grateful if you could allay the gossip and lend me truth, for I most fear of putting her Grace to offense. Is it true that her wine selection is wholly unremarkable? I might have to make a gift of a bottle of my own, perhaps..." The comment is allowed to die into a question, and she once again glances between the men curiously.

Away from the Crafters Square comes Alainne, mumbling to herself as she takes a curious glance around the Crossroads, starting in the general direction of the tavern. She pauses, however, at the assembled group, one brow lifting, before starting to join them.

Lucius Nepos bellows loudly at that. "No need to sir me, Kael, this ain't an official state function. We don't need to call eachother titles, we're both the same status. Now, if I were talkin' to a noble an' using fancy titles and all.. then I might request I be called Sir, eh? S'within my rights, afterall. Lucius is fine. But s'good to know she's moving up, now. Things stalled a bit recently, I understood, with business an' all." He shrugs at Viscountess. "I cannot answer that question, alas, since I've never had the privelege of tasting her wines. A bottle of wine is always an appropriate gift, no? We are talking about Countess Sahna, m'lady?"

Kael blows into his hands, rubbing them together. "To be honest, ma'am, I don' rightly know. I kin tell ye I hated th' stuff, but I don' exactly know good from bad, if y' ken." To Lucius, he offers a nod. "Yes, sir. I'll keep 't in mind." He's likely the first to note Alainne's approach - and she, out of the lot, gets a genuinely warm greeting. "Light keep, miss Alaianne." He pauses, and winces. "Oh, right. Sorry. I got m'self talkin' and I should have been bringin' food."

"Mm, indeed, Countess Sahna." Xerun dismisses the subject with a gentle wave of her fingers, and one of her eyebrows rises once more although she retains the smile (barely). "You've no taste for titles, Mister Lucius? Surely you can understand the necessity of distinguishing each individual out of the whole lest we lose ourselves amidst a lot of Mikins and Kahars. Surely, even some of them have done something worthy enough to place them in such a state as well and not just their birth? But we cannot all of us be discontent with our lot, I suppose." She pauses in the conversation and turns to take in the newest member of the little group, and her smile for the woman is genuine. "I suppose I should be on my way, however. I would not want to disappoint the Countess with my lack of timeliness. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Lucius, and shall I pass on your regards to your employer? And thank you for your helpful advice, sir," she finishes with a nod to Kael.

Alainne dips her head down in greeting to Xerun, passing Kael a somewhat puzzled look. "Light protect, M'Lady," she offers the now departing noblewoman, before her attention turns to the two men. "Light keep, Master Nepos," she says with some measure of warmth to Lucius as she approachs, and then throws her new employee a look. "What happened to my breakfast? Sweet Light, by this point, it is bordering on supper, and I hate to imagine how dreadfully cold the food is." Even though she speaks sternly, there is amusement there.

"Sir Lucius, if you please. As I said, if one wishes to use a title with my name, then I will invoke the one given to me by the late Emperor, m'lady. I do not mind titles; but when speaking among social equals, as Kael and I are, I don't find them necessary. I am not a noble, m'lady. When talking to the gentry, social titles are usually necessity, as it stands." Lucius shrugs, offering another bow of the head. "Please do, m'lady. Light keep, I bid you a good evening." He smiles broadly at Alainne. "Mistress Woodsong! Pleasure to meet you here."

Kael watches the words between Xerun and Lucius fly as one would watch a flock of birds - with a certain amount of curiosity, and with a visible desire to not be standing under them. Diffidently, to the noblewoman, he offers. "Light keep ye, lady - was th' least I coul' do." Alainne, however, gets a guilty look, with - yes, a touch of amusement in it. "Well, I was talkin' to Cook, an' one thing led to another an' I ended up losin' a bit of time." He coughs. 'But she's supposed tae be keepin' it warm 'till I kin get in there for 't. M' sorry 'bout that - got m'self distracted, a bit."

"I suppose titles bestowed by a dead, former Emperor are only a gift if the new Imperial Crown sees fit to leave it in place, Freelander," Xerun replies in a pleasant tone by way of a smile as she reaches down to lift her hem up half an inch from the ground daintily. "Light keep you, Master Nepos, miss, sir," she says once more before turning to march stoicly toward the collection of houses built along a sidestreet just off of the main square. Her posture is, as always, erect, and she moves with a proud fluidity with her skirts flittering about her ankles. Deftly she avoids puddles and horse droppings, keeping her precious slippers and dignity clean as she moves.

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