Element (closed to Aryr de Morte)

[Luca]

closed to aryr

"Did he say when he'd be here?" Luca asked with a disgusted sigh as she took a sip of the rather lackluster Raiaeran brandy, "Because I didn't come to Raiaera to shop, I came because my guttersnipe of a brother begged me to."

"No my lady," the concierge of the Royal Raiaeran Arms Inn shook his head apologetically, although his eyes betrayed his frustration with this human woman whose disdain was misplaced, "I haven't even seen or heard from him in over a month, since he asked me to send the message originally to you."

"Splendid," she smiled at the concierge sweetly, and his frustration melted substantially as her hazel eyes softened, "Well, it's not your fault is it. You're simply doing your job, and a marvelous job you're doing. My baggage is in my suite?"

"Aye, my lady, it is there and unpacked as you requested," he nodded, refilling her drink, "I can have a maid bring up hot water for you to bathe after such long travel - it is a custom many of our guests have found quite refreshing. Then at two hours after sunset will be dinner. I can have the maid bring up tea and cakes in the meantime, if you find you are hungry."

Luca nodded, quite satisfied. At least she'd be treated with dignity. And at least she knew how to treat the staff of such a respectable establishment - most nobles were so vain they didn't think they had any need to treat their underlings with any respect. Luca knew better - if she wanted good service, she had to be a good customer.

"I would quite like that hot water, if you please," she told him, as she stood from the armchair she'd occupied in the lobby since her arrival, "I'll be going to my room now, so please have her hurry."

"Of course my lady," he agreed, "And of course if you'd like she will gladly stay to assist you with any other needs you might have."

Luca smiled like a cat that found the cream pitcher and turned to glide gracefully up the grand staircase at the center of the lobby, a maid waiting at the top to show the Baroness to her suite of rooms. As long as she was able to wait in comfort, it might not be so utterly inconvenient to wait for her brother. After all, he'd been known to take weeks before showing up.

She wondered if he enjoyed making her wait. Probably so.

[Aryr de Morte]

Aryr hadn't gotten to Raiaera in comfort to be honest, in fact it was quite the opposite. The soldier had traveled all the way here just to meet some man from a crime syndicate in some fancy inn. Although it was what Aryr wanted, he hadn't wanted to end up traveling with this mangy pack of farmers. It had been quite nasty circumstances that led him to be traveling from his manor in Corone, he hired these farmers not even a week before hearing that a prominent member of the Radasnath Crime Syndicate would be in Eluriand. As the farming caravan approached the city, Aryr saw the High Elven city for his first time. The stonework of the walls was absolutely beautiful, laced with intricate trees and flowers all around, birds singing from atop the walls.

As they approached the gate to the city, Aryr heard the wary footsteps of an Elven guard walking up to the now stopped caravan, his voice was muffled to Aryr, "Welcome, may I ask your business?"

"Well, we're here t' sell our crop!" The head farmer blurted out quickly quite loudly, Aryr was hidden under the corn, hardly able to breath. He hoped they wouldn't check the crops, that wouldn't fare well for anyone if they found him hidden.

"Well, alright, I'll let you in. Please don't cause any trouble and you won't get in trouble." The muffled voice was faint, like the High Elf was walking away as he spoke to the farmers.

The caravan began to move again. After about ten minutes of monotonous bouncing, the wagon finally stopped and the farmers revealed Aryr in a back alley which he hoped was near the inn he was supposed to be going to. As he stepped out the scent in the air hit him like a rock, flowers and shrubbery filled his nose. Aryr started walking, nodding to the farmers that smuggled him in. He was supposed to look for the Royal Raiaeran Arms Inn, what a name it was.

After about ten minutes of wandering he found the rather high class looking inn. It was intricate but well built like the rest of Eluriand too, it looked like dwarven masonry but not of dwarven design quite obviously. He walked in to find an equally classy set of patrons sitting around having drinks and chatting quietly, some looked up in what he figured was disgust as Aryr walked in.

Obviously not used to a warrior, what filth royalty in Raiaera is proving to be so far.

Aryr strode gracefully over to the bar, hearing a well dressed lady ask about her brother. The soldier sat at a rather comfortable bar chair and waited patiently to ask the innkeeper a question or two. After their extended conversation, in which the lady had seemed quite nice to the man for nobility, he came over to Aryr and spoke with a gruffer tone, "What can I get you?"

"Would there happen to be a Locrian Terlios staying here or on his way?" Aryr looked the man with an authority he didn't often showcase.

"Well, he... he comes here but I don't know when, it's when he pleases actually," he pointed at the lady he had just talked to, she had smooth, white skin and nearly perfect looking brown curls coming from her head, "That lady there, she's his sister--"

"Thank you." Aryr threw down two shiny gold coins for the man's time.

The dark haired Eulaean watched the woman glide gracefully up the stairs, trying to decide whether to follow her or to wait downstairs and then approach her, what would he even say? Whatever came to mind was usually what he said but a little planning might be a good thing in this situation.

Won't hurt to do it now I suppose, Aryr...

He walked after the woman, skipping a step in between to catch up to her. She was already walking down the hall with a maid probably showing her to the room she was to stay in. Aryr walked quickly and caught up, lightly tapping her shoulder.

"Excuse me, I am Aryr de Morte the twenty-fifth, may I have a word with you?" Aryr gave an eloquent bow as usual although he thought such formalities disgusting.

[Luca]

The Terlios name drifted up the stairs to fall softly on Luca's ears. She slowed only enough to hear whatever other traces of conversation might float her way, but the voices had softened and the baroness heard little else. With a light shrug she continued up the marble staircase to her suite, only to be approached by a dirty warrior obviously of high enough rank to carry himself almost like a noble.

If he had actually been a noble, that abrupt manner would not have come out no matter the circumstance - something that annoyed Luca to no end. With a gracious smile, she turned to stand face to face with him, inclining her head lightly at his introduction.

"Master de Morte," she greeted him, extending her hand lightly to him, "I am the Baroness of Snowdale, and you may have a word."

Hazel eyes took in the form of the dark haired young man before her, surveying everything she could about him. There would be no sweet-talking him when it became necessary, she'd have to figure out just what would work with him.

"If you will," she gestured down the grand corridor to their right which was lined with fine pieces of artwork from the great elven artists, "I've only just arrived. I'd be happy to speak with you in my chambers while I settle in."

The constricting ribbons and stays of her bodice held her posture perfectly, the yards upon yards of blue silk in her skirt hid her feet making it seem almost that she floated inches above the lush Salvarian rug as she led Aryr to her suite.

A slight girl who was obviously a maid met them at the door to Luca's chambers and granted them a sweet smile as she keyed the lock and pushed the door open for them. Light flooded into the corridor from the bank of windows across the room, illuminating the lavishly appointed suite.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," she directed Aryr as she swept through the room to assure herself that it was up to her standards, "I'll have the maid bring us refreshment."

She gave a significant glance to the maid who nodded and rushed from the room, making Luca smile at the efficiency of the inn she'd chosen. With an exhausted sigh, she restrained herself from flopping gracelessly onto the nearest chaise. Instead, she lightly perched herself on the edge of a settee and nodded to her visitor to speak his mind.