As we play, occasionally we'll close a thread and open a new one to keep the size of threads (and relative complexity) down to a dull roar. Here's where we store the closed posts from the history of Errant Road.
Jamie woke bright and early. After briefly contemplating a bit of a dalliance with the soft furred woman next to her, she shrugged and crawled out of bed to head down to the galley.
The cook looked at her from under a chefs hat too large for his head. Waving a large spoon he pointed to the sign next to the window. "Too pankaks purr pursun onlee!" Jamie blithely ignored him and piled four pancakes onto her plate, with an un healthy dosing of butter and syrup. As the cook squawked his indignation, the girl turned and settled at a table.
Kattie walked in, heading straight to the counter of food, then slid to a halt in her tracks. The dark skinned woman looked Jamie over twice, then shook her head. "Where'd you get the red shirt?"
"Rap? Rupi? Ralph?" Jamie shrugged. "I can't remember his name. Just that he had a bird."
"Rip. Figures." Kattie sighed. "Just so you know, we're having to briefly divert to get more fuel. Yesterday's... adventures seem to have used up more than expected."
Jamie said something around a large mouthfull of pancake. Whatever it was she'd said, she seemed in no way bothered by Kattie's announcement.
Shaking her head, Kattie grabbed two plates and loaded them liberally with food before turning and walking back out.
[OOC]No smeg ups from Lillith and Brad... yet...[/OOC]
Angrist sidestepped to avoid running into Katie. He'd had plenty of time for his morning exercises and now he was ready for breakfast. Ignoring the pancakes, Angrist grabbed a couple of apples and sat opposite Jamie. The first apple went quick and Angrist ate the core. The second apple, he savored.
Jamie made some muffled noises through her mouthful of pancake. It could have been anything. Angrist raised a quizical eyebrow and waited for her to finish chewing. He thought Jamie was amusing when she wasn't in the midst of destruction.
"Don't you ever talk?" Angrist shook his head, his amusement diminished by old memories.
"You're so weird. You've got all these things you don't do. What sort of stuff do you do?" Angrist smirked. Some smirks say "I'm amused" and some say "I'm trouble". This one said both.
They kicked me out of the asylum. I miss the jello.
Argus nodded gravely. "Then do lead on, Father Boris," he intoned. A polite, brooding nod was given to each of the noblemen, and Argus stalked after Father Boris, the rest of his group in tow.
<"Lovely. It's as bad as I feared here. Until I get the lay of the land, less is more when it comes to conversation."> This was thought at Rose. He hoped she had more insight as to the petty rivalries of this place.
Once they were inside the temple-embassy, Father Boris led the group to a private room, talking as he went - talking freely, once he was out of earshot of the natives. He moved like a bear and grinned like a wolf through his beard, as good a front as Argus' though differently flavored. He gestured broadly and often as he spoke.
"An interesting choice of ambassadors," he said. "But not unexpected. An airship doesn't arrive every day. Every year, either. So you draw attention. So the major families show us where you stand.
"Pyotr Duravsky's from the Prime Minister's own clan - that's Arman Duravsky, if you haven't been briefed. Very dangerous man, very inventive of cruelties. If you give him a reason. Don't!
"Pyotr, he's chicken-coop slime and everyone knows it. Close enough to Arman's bloodline so no one dares kill him for it. Sending him tells everyone the Prime Minister's interested in you, at least for the moment. Offering geteroi shows the same. So you're not just interlopers they can kill just like that" -- Boris snapped his fingers. "But it says you haven't got extra status either - not like sending the chamberlain or one of his own sons. So you're accepted for the moment. But eyes are on you.
"Clan Yurkashev, where Andrei comes from, they're a power in this place. Actually they're on very good terms with Duravksy - don't be fooled. Andrei's not the chieftain's own son but he's prime young Gorielian manhood. So he'd die defending you for the sake of his honor. Or butcher you like a goat for the same reason! No clan rivalry there! Andrei just despises Pyotr becuse he's despicable. You see?" - Boris spoke with enthusiasm, seeming to enjoy this talk, while gauging how the newcomers reacted.
"If Arman let Yurkashev feast you, that might be policy. Keep his distance while he sees how you are, but not ignore you, either. Things go sleepy-to-bloody in a hurry if you don't watch yourself, eh? Probably you're safe to accept. Yurkashev, it's not in a blood feud except with Zukalin, and they're on the way down. Too many enemies, too many setbacks. Won't survive much longer. Anything happens to you while you're guests of Yurkashev, that would be serious dishonor, and they'd shed blood to avenge it."
By this time, he'd led them up a winding staircase to a second-floor tower room with thin, open windows letting in fresh air. Niches held stylized devotional paintings on wood, and the room's one table was littered with papers. This was Boris' own study, and privacy was guaranteed. He invited the group to take benches and share water or strong wine. The pause gave him a chance to see if they looked well briefed or lost at sea - and so how much he'd have to explain about the geteroi, before talking about their actual mission.
[OOC: And I'm leaving that part of his talk to Greybeard.]
OOC Sorry, been moving house for the last couple of days, I've only just got a connection back./OOC
Eli had watched the formalised proceedings dispassionately. The inner workings of the politics of the city didn't interest him much. The thing that had made the biggest impression on the half-elf since arriving in town had been the open subjugation of the women, concreting Eli's opinion of the species as having an insatiable urge to repress and enslave.
Perhaps later he'd have words with people, if the right ones could be found. But, for now, the half-elf kept to the back of the group, feigning an interest in an ugly painting which hung from one of the walls.
........
"Mornings here! Where's the beer-can... umm... bee-can... ahh..."
Tamina stopped in mid-bound into the dining area and paused as one confronted by a deep philosophical question.
Udo had risen last of all. After a day of shooting, getting shot, getting healed, getting beaten up trained in sensei's secrets of hand-to-hand fighting, and taking part in an epic sky battle - the memory of which was growing expontentially more epic - was it a wonder he was a little sore? He ambled down to the galley just as Kattie was emerging with her heaping big plates of food, and barely avoided a collision - so a typical Jamie-fueled day of destruction didn't start too early. And there was sensei, and whoosh! - there was dear Tamina! She almost knocked him over, but he broke his fall with a chair and made it a sit-down.
"The can?" he said - that must be where she meant, the pee-can, the can, where you go to pee - "It's thataway" - he pointed toward the head.
[OOC: Welcome back! Hope the new place works out.]
Last edited by Alberich on May 15th, 2012, 6:33 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Or butcher you like a goat for the same reason!
Things go sleepy-to-bloody in a hurry if you don't watch yourself, eh?
How... encouraging. I was worried about being sold into slavery again. The idea that I am just as likely to have my throat slit in the middle of the night over some sort of crazy local politics... so much for enjoying myself while we're here. Or sleeping.
I want to snuggle up to someone for reassurance, but... I don't think that is at all approprate. Before recently, it would have been Eli, but... not now. Not Tim. I might be able to get away with Argus, but now I'm afraid of offending someone into murdering us. So I just follow along, shivering slightly.
Why is it always murder and blood feuds? Can't anyone settle things through manipulation and humiliation like civilized folk?!
Can't anyone settle things through manipulation and humiliation like civilized folk?
[/OOC]
Jamie grabbed a roll someone had left on the table and hucked it at Udo. "Bacon!" Only after she had thrown it had it occurred to her that it was much heavier than expected. Shrugging, she turned to Tamina. "Over there. Where the short guy with the silly hat is. Smile at him, he might give you extra."
Glancing back over to Angrist. "So, Chatty Kathy. What's with the weird jewelry?"
****
"You keep mentioning geteroi. Clearly it means something to these people." Lillith didn't look to happy when she muttered the word 'people'. "What is geteroi? Some sort of gift? Should we have brought some sort of trinkets to keep them happy?"
Udo caught the heavy roll in the belly with an "oof!" - which threw him back onto the table, so he rolled to the other side, upended the table into a barricade, and flung the missile with a hearty "Backatcha!" Any veteran of Tsuirakuan basic knew this kind of warfare well! "Hey, cookie!" he yelled - "How 'bout some ammo?" Syruptitiously he prepared his next breakfast-themed missile.
* * *
Ah, thought Boris. It was as he had feared - Emerylon had thrown the mission together in a hurry, and taught them nothing, despite the bracelets and costumes. So it would be up to him. This would not be as enjoyable as talking about clan politics, who was up and who was down - this was an area foreigners didn't get. His own church included. But at least in the safety of this room, the women could ask questions and get answers themselves.
"Geteroi, they are like...girls. Are girls. Girls you use, or share with guests, or trade with hosts. Not like common girls in those houses you pay for. You understand? Might be distant cousins of the chief, not his daughters and nieces.
"Having geteroi is good for status. More so if she has skills. Sharing geteroi is a kind of hospitality. Better to establish early if your young ladies are or aren't, and your young men do or don't indulge. This men will watch for. To have them, this gives you status. But to have them and not share with gracious hosts, this is rude. To return them damaged, this is dishonor and grave insult, so they are safe if the host is strong.
"A man who doesn't -- is a little less a man, you see? No matter he's got a wife and two others. His face is, he can outdo a herd of billy goats! The girls don't tell what he can't do in private. Now for me, they know I don't. But I have Veracian power behind me. Also I am very good to wrestle! So they let me have my ways."
Tim's teeth clenched as he listened to the heathen ways of these Gorielians. He thought it beastly that this Father Boris would even consider letting a member of their mission play that part, let alone having him accept girls like refreshments at a party - but he kept silent.
Last edited by Alberich on May 15th, 2012, 5:15 pm, edited 10 times in total.
Angrist caught Udo's return shot reflexively even as he paused at Jamie's question. {I could just give her the simple version. At least she didn't ask why I don't talk}
Angrist grabbed a knife on the table and gestured betweeen it at himself to make clear the subject of his metaphor. Then he put his fingers over the knife like a cage and pointed between the fingers and the amulets.
"So...you're saying the jewelry is like a cage for you?" Angrist nodded.
"But why would you stay in a cage?"
Angrist picked the knife up and held it over his apple. Then he let the knife drop and skewer the apple. He held Jamie's gaze for a few moments to make sure she understood before he removed the knife and resumed eating.
[OOC: I'm trying to make it clear that Angrist isn't very good with social skills or being friendly. He joined up with the group because of a bet he made coupled with strong personal honor. This doesn't mean he likes them yet...Personally, I like them.]
They kicked me out of the asylum. I miss the jello.
[/OOC]