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| Details |
| Author: | Disknight |
| Summary: | Rozalin catches up with Sil over a drink in Goldshire. It's a peaceful evening at first, but others come in to intervene. Fortunately Jenzelle and Arric are able to step in to prevent the worst. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Arc: Cobalt Manhunt
Rozalin sits at a table in Lion's Pride Inn with a pint of beer waiting for someone. She's dressed in some simple work clothes and is a little sweaty from another day of hard work.
No one really takes any notice when Sil slips into the inn, slipping around the edges of the room on silent feet. He doesn't seem to be trying to sneak around, exactly, this is just his usual way to enter a bar. There's a shift, as he approaches Rozalin's table, where he deliberately starts placing his feet more heavily, drawing attention. He drops into a chair and gives a friendly wave. "Hey, Roz. How're you holding up?"
“Heya Sil.” Rozalin’s expression brightens when she sees him, “Hangin in there. Got a job helpin with the stables at the Aspenwood place. Plus I been doin some other odd jobs around as I can.” She takes a pitcher from the table, pours Sil a glass of beer, and slides it to him, “What about you?”
"Same as usual," Sil says, reaching out to catch the glass smoothly. "Wandering a bit around Elwynn, spending time with the Atleys, that sort of thing. Waiting to hear more from the folks stuck on the sea bottom - Ben and Mizzy are down there, but they said they're all fine. Any news on the trial front?"
“Not yet really. Still waiting on the trial date to come up.” Roz takes a sip of her drink, “Can’t count on Stormwind to get outta my hair in a timely manner either seems like.”
"Yeah, well, justice moves slow," Sil shrugs. "Guess it's better they're careful, really. So they're not gonna jump to conclusions."
“Slow enough to keep me away from my farm.” Roz scoffs, “That’s gonna be such a mess…” her tone starts off annoyed, but she starts to get sad as she stews on that point.
"Hey," Sil says, trying to keep eye contact with Roz. "You'll get there, alright? Just takes time. Think you're gonna go for bein' a farmer, then, once all this has blown over?"
Rozalin meets his eyes for just a moment before she has to glance off to the side, “I-I don’t know… I wasn’t sure even before all this shit came up. And now… I don’t even know where I’d start to figure out what to do…”
"Wish I could help, but farming's really not my thing," Sil says apologetically. "Bet there's some folk in Cobalt with background that'd help."
“I guess…” Rozalin’s breath catches a little bit she keeps it together, “I like doin it, but I dunno how I feel about givin up on my adventures ya know? There’s still so much I wanna see.”
"Yeah," Sil falls silent. Then he brightens. "Hey, you know, you could always hire tenants? Then the place would be taken care of till you were ready to take it on."
“Maybe… but doubt I can afford somethin like that. And it wouldn’t really be home at that point.” Rozalin sighs and slumps in her seat, resting her chin on her upturned hand, “It’s not just the place itself. It was the fact that no matter what I knew my ma and pa would be there waitin for me. And n-now I don’t have that.”
"No," Sil says, deflating a little himself and leaning forward over the table. "I know that's a hard thing. I do hope the end of all this is real justice, for whoever did all that."
“Yeah… but justice ain’t gonna bring ‘em back will it.” Rozalin drains her glass and sets it down away from her. She sighs again, “Sorry… I ain’t tryin to ruin the mood. I-I really do appreciate you comin out here…”
"No, you're right, it won't," Sil says, taking a gulp of beer himself. He gestures to the pitcher, an offer to refill her glass. "But it still doesn't seem right for people to get away with something like that. Might not be much of any consolation, but we've at least got to see them pay for it."
“Yeah… I got some choice words for whoever done it.” Rozalin cracks her knuckles but her tone is a little dismissive, “I guess I’m just even more confused cause I didn’t think y’all would stick your necks out for me like that.” After a moment she nods to her glass.
"I wasn't with the group that went and checked out the farm," Sil says, pouring Roz another drink, "But I was there to question those guys who roughed you up. 'Course they told it like they'd done nothing wrong, but it wasn't too hard to read between the lines." Sil sets down the pitcher and takes a sip of his own beer. "If you're asking who kicked things off, though, that was Birdie. He was concerned right off and talked to the Captain about putting together a team - that'd be him and me, and Mayellen and Alaisa. You ought to catch up with May if you can, I haven't heard from her since the farm report. Of course, the Stormwind guard insisted they have somebody for oversight, so that's the Lathrik guy. I heard he brought in a girl specialist of some sort, too, but I've not met her."
“Tch, typical pigs…” Rozalin shakes her head and takes a sip of her glass, “Good to know you ain’t just a bunch more of em.” She pinches her nose and tries to clear her head again, “Sorry. Don’t mean to lump you in with them or anything. Shit I’m bad at this. Y-y’all are good folk. I’m happy to know I got people watching my back.” Rozalin smiles a little.
"Cobalt takes care of its own," Sil says with a smile. "And I reckon our people are also pretty good at not jumping to conclusions until we have the whole story, most of the time. I'm just glad we found you, to be honest. When I first tried to figure where you went, best I could guess is off in the jungle somewhere. I thought if you were hiding out on purpose, you wouldn't welcome somebody trying to track you down. Figured all I could do was try to put out word we were lookin' in good faith."
“Well it looks like it worked out in the end, don’t it?” Rozalin winks. She takes another sip and leans back, taking a deep breath. She smiles at Sil and tries to relax a little.
"Yeah," Sil says, leaning back himself. "As much as we got your back, I am also glad that you trust us to."
“Heh. I could get used to bein rescued.” Rozalin says impishly.
"That so?" Sil grins. "Maybe we can get the Captain to make you a little sciency-magic alarm thing, so you can call in a rescue anytime you want."
“Anytime I want, huh?” Rozalin raises an eyebrow, “Ya know the Aspenwood place is pretty big. Might need a hand gettin to where I’m tryna be, ya know what I mean?” Rozalin widens her stance and leans forward in her seat to give Sil a little more to look at.
Sil chuckles, leaning his elbows on the table and appreciating the view. Respectfully, of course. "I'd offer to help, but you probably know the place better than I do by now. I've mostly only ever seen like, the sitting room and the parts they had available for the wedding."
Rozalin flashes a wry grin, “True. I do know my way around. More my style to do the showin around anyhow.”
"You comfortable there?" Sil asks, and this question sounds sincere, not an innuendo. "I know it's… well, it's not Westfall. Even a nice and fancy place can feel like a cage, when it's not your home."
Rozalin relaxes and sits back up, “It’s alright. They’re doin what they can to make me feel at home, but it just feels… wrong somehow.” She knits her brow.
"Wrong how?" Sil asks, drumming his fingers against the beer glass. "Just like… unfamiliar?"
“Maybe?” Rozalin says uncertainly, “I dunno. I mean it’s always awkward bein in a new space, but I didn’t feel that when-“ she catches herself and stops before she finishes that thought, “They just got so much fancy stuff there. What’s one family need all that for? Berdie is a good guy, but he’s got all this stuff and servants and crap while there’s people living on the streets. I’m not sure what to make of it.”
"Yeah, I can see that thought," Sil says, nodding. "But also, yeah, he's a good guy, and he didn't set up the world this way himself. Sometimes you've just got to play the hand you're dealt, you know? That goes for good hands as well as bad hands." Sil pauses for beer. It's a good time for a beer pause. "Sure he could give all his stuff away and give it to folks who have nothing, but on the other hand… his family has power. Sometimes power can do a lot more than money in changing how things are set up. But to use that power, he's got to keep it. It's a weird place to be, honestly. I don't envy it."
Rozalin grunts and takes a little beer break too, "Whatever you say." She sets her glass down and lets the silence hang for a minute, "Ya know what. I never got to do any proper celebratin after getting outta Stranglethorn. Yer doin a shot with me." Rozalin gets up before Sil has a chance to comment on the matter.
Sil looks a little surprised, and like he might protest. She's already off, though, so he just rises and follows her to the bar.
Rozalin smirks at him and grabs his wrist to take him along with her, “I been tryin to stay away from the hard stuff, but this is a special occasion. I think I can be bad every once in a while, yeah?” She winks.
"Yeah, I think this probably does call for a celebration," Sil grins amiably, ready to go along with it.
Once at the bar, Rozalin flags down the bartender and sets some coins on the bartop, “My friend and I here wanna get a shot of somethin.” She nudges Sil with her elbow, “Well come on then. Pick your poison.”
"Um, whiskey?" Sil suggests. "What're you having?"
"Sounds good to me." Roz turns back to the bartender, "You heard the man."
The bartender, a human male, nods and turns around to fill a pair of glasses, "Coming right up." Once he's finished he sets them down in front of each of them, "There we are. One for the lady and one for the gentleman."
"Thanks a million. Keep the change." Rozalin picks up her glass and smiles at Sil expectantly.
Sil picks up his glass and holds it out to clink with hers. "Here's to having folks to watch our backs."
"To good friends." Rozalin taps the glass on the bartop and knocks it back in one gulp.
Sil salutes with his glass to that, and throws his back as well. Then he grimaces after. Somebody isn't used to shooting whiskey.
“Ahhh.” Rozalin slaps Sil on the arm playfully and coughs, “Damn, I must really be outta practice. That went down a little rough.”
"You- you alright?" Sil asks, his sentence broken with a cough as well. He grins at her. "I'm not usually a shots guy, sorry. But the occasion called for it."
“Damn right it did.” Rozalin chuckles, “Whew… man what a rush. My head’s feelin kinda funny. Musta lost my touch.” She chuckles and turns to go back to the table. When she steps, however, she stumbles and almost falls to the ground.
Sil rushes forward, still fairly steady himself, and tries to catch her under her arms. "Roz! How many did you have before I got here?"
“Jusss the wunn…” her speech grows incredibly slurred, “Aii bin guuud.” She tries to take another step and her feet completely give out from under her.
Instantly alert, Sil dives in quickly to catch her, easing her to the ground gently. His hand goes to her throat to check her pulse. "Roz? Try to stay with me, stay awake. This looks like poison… I mean, besides alcohol. Worse poison." He leans over to check if her eyes are dilated. "Did it taste funny? Did you notice anything unusual?"
Rozalin hums and smiles at Sil as he lays her down, “Slooow down thair tigerrr. Bai meee dinnur furst.” She reaches up to tangle her fingers in Sil’s hair and pull him down for a kiss but her grip is very weak. Her eyes are widely dilated and her pulse is slow but steady.
"Not that fast-acting at least," Sil says quietly, reaching to touch her hand on his hair. It might read as an affectionate gesture, but he's actually checking the temperature of her extremities. "Roz, we need to get you to a healer, and fast. You're still awake, and that's good, but whatever this is… dosage is tricky when you mix things with alcohol, even if they didn't mean to take you down."
Her hand is a little cold and clammy but not to a high degree, “Wutteverrrr… jusss taaaek me awaaee.” She whines and starts to close her eyes, “I’mmm sweepee.”
Sil is looking a little frantic himself at this point, and he quickly sweeps her up into his arms, rushing towards the door. "Outta my way. I gotta get to… I've got to…"
There’s a bit of a scene forming in Lion’s Pride Inn now. People are whispering to eachother wondering what’s happening.
One human woman in particular, however, rushes over to Sil before he can make it out, “I saw her go down. What’s wrong?” She asks, “I’m a doctor and I trained at Northshire Abbey. I can help.”
"She just had a shot of whiskey and collapsed," Sil says, looking over to her gratefully. "She was pretty much sober before, so it's not the alcohol. It was too sudden."
“That doesn’t sound good. We don’t know what could have been in there. I need to take her to get treated immediately.” The woman’s voice is very urgent and she tries to take Rozalin out of Sil’s arms, “I have a cart out back. I can take her. You go and find some friends or family and let them know what’s happening.” By this point Rozalin is out cold.
"She's not got family," Sil says, keeping hold of her. "And I'm her friend. I'll carry her, just tell me where to go."
It is at this point that Jenzelle happens into the inn, a bit tired looking, as if from a long trip from somewhere. She immediately notices the strange atmosphere in the place, and pushes through the people standing in the way to get a better look.
"Sil?" she asks, recognizing him, first.
"Jenzelle!" Sil says, turning away from the other woman. "Somebody slipped Roz something and she's out cold."
The woman moves with Sil, still trying to get hold of Rozalin, “Sir! There’s no time. Every second counts. Her life could be in danger. Let me take her!” She sees the newcomer, Jenzelle, and calls to her as well, “Good, another friend. I’ll take this woman to get medical attention. You two go and get ready to make arrangements wherever she’s staying. Someone is going to have to watch her for a few days probably.”
Jenzelle frowns in confusion. "This is an inn," she says, "We should see if they have any rooms here. I'll take a look in the meantime. Sil, if you could take her to a corner and keep the area clear? If someone did this to her, they might still be nearby. I don't want anyone approaching her, okay?"
"That sounds like a better plan," Sil says, smiling apologetically to the first healer, though he's still breathing shallowly with panic. "You can help while Jenzelle finds a room?"
"No offense or anything, really, I'm sure you're a lovely person, but, I'd like to keep everyone clear, at least for a while," Jenzelle tells the other healer apologetically. "But if you'd still like to help, you could ask about the room, and maybe send for the Stormwind Guard? I want to make sure there's nothing life threatening going on. I should be able to tell that much. If it's a poison, we're going to need a paladin."
The woman is growing visibly frustrated with Sil and Jenzelle, but finally relents, "Fine. I'll try and get a room so we can treat her here." She hurries toward the innkeeper but calls back, "I still think we should take her to the hospital, though."
"Thanks," Sil says to Jenzelle, and then quickly follows it with, "Onset was within a minute, confusion and slurred speech, pulse slowing, pupils dilated, hands clammy." Sil sways a little. He is not really all that sober himself. "Is she gonna die?"
Jenzelle finds a suitable corner, and directs Sil to set her down there. "Did you see anyone do anything?" she asks as she examines Rozalin. "It was in the drink, right?"
"It must've been, it was right after we took a shot of whiskey," Sil says, worried. "I wasn't paying that much attention. Maybe the bartender…?"
"It doesn't seem to be doing any damage," Jenzelle concludes. "Maybe someone was playing a prank?"
"Hell of a prank," Sil says, "An illegal prank. You can't just mix sedatives with alcohol, if that's what this is. She's still breathing okay?"
The whole room is a stir as everyone whispers and gawks at them.
The woman returns with a set of keys, "Ok. I have a room. I can take her up there while you two call the guards to inform them about the situation. Who knows if anyone else might be in danger."
"Good thinking," Sil says. "We can carry her, and you can call the guard. What room?"
Jenzelle looks like she might be used to this kind of attention, and she gets to her feet, waving people back. "Please do give us some space," she says. "Everything is fine, but we'll need a clear path."
The crowd disperses a little at Jenzelle's bidding.
"It'll be easier if I just take her. The innkeeper already told me which room." She kneels down to try and pick up Rozalin.
Jenzelle instinctively murmurs a prayer, and a shield of Light springs up around Rozalin. "Please keep your distance. I'm sure you're just trying to help, but you're making me a bit nervous. Sometimes poisons like this are used to… take advantage of people, and — I'm sorry to even suggest it, it's just, we can't take any chances."
The woman has no choice but to step back and she clenches her fists.
Soon after another woman walks inside. She's tall and has dark curly hair done in an undercut. She's wearing close fitting leather armor and has a pair of shortswords on her belt. She stops when she sees the scene, "Oh shit, what's going on here?"
"Nothing to worry about ma'am, we've got it under control," Sil says with a reassuring smile, lifting the unconscious Roz into his arms again.
"That so? Where you taking the girl?" She crosses her arms and asks sternly.
"Innkeep offered a room," Sil answers. "I'm not… Jenzelle here's a healer. She's got this."
"That's nice, but I think I'll be taking her off your hands now. I'd know that scar anywhere." She walks right up to Sil, "Her name's Terrineth. She's an old associate of mine, and I always take care of my own. You can run along. She doesn't like being with men she doesn't know, especially when she's out cold."
"Okay, so you knew her," Sil says, wary now. "But that's not the name she goes by now, and she's our associate now. We also take care of our own."
There's a slight change in the woman's expression. It seems like panic, but it's hard to tell with how well she hides it. "Well maybe take a bit better care next time." She turns on her heel and leaves, "Not a great look having someone drop like that."
Jenzelle looks more than a little nervous now. "Is it…maybe a bit weird how much people are trying to be forcefully helpful?" she whispers.
"Uh, yeah, kinda weird," Sil whispers back. "People in Elwynn are nice, but not that aggressively nice. And from what I know about Roz, she burns her bridges when she leaves."
"That's maybe three people who are suspicious if we count the bartender," Jenzelle notes. "We miiight be getting a little outnumbered. Someone should probably contact the Guard, but I'm worried that if one of us leaves, the other might get overwhelmed with helpful people. In the worst case, I guess we can wait the poison out, but there's no telling how long that will be, and I'd hate to ask you to spend all night standing around like this being stared at. Whatever you do, don't take food or drink from anyone."
"I'm not gonna leave you alone to guard her," Sil says, eyeing the nearby crowd nervously. "We had a pitcher of beer, but I feel fine. I don't think it was poisoned. You think she'll just sleep this off? You said it wasn't doing damage, right?"
Jenzelle nods. "Yes, it doesn't appear to be anything more than a sedative," she says.
The whispers have resumed and people seem to be crowding the bartender now too asking questions.
Jenzelle looks in the bartender's direction apologetically. Whoops, sorry buddy.
"What do you think, then?" Sil asks. "Do we carry her to the Guard?"
Jenzelle takes a deep breath and considers. "Mail, maybe? It might take longer, but I'm a little hesitant to leave a place with a lot of people while one of us has our hands full. Just in case somebody decides to get physically helpful."
The bartender is trying to defend himself frantically and assuring people that the drinks should all be perfectly safe. However, in the crowd of the inn, it gradually becomes apparent that two grizzled looking men, one dark haired human and a tall imposing draenei, seem a to be more concerned with Rozalin, Sil, and Jenzelle rather than the bartender like everyone else.
Sil spots the grizzled men, and then looks back at Jenzelle. "We need to get out of here and find backup. If they get much more persistent, we're gonna be in a fight, and they might get at Roz."
"I'm not sure I can fully levitate an unconscious person, but I can maybe reduce her weight some?" Jenzelle offers. "I'd rather not hurt anyone, but if it comes to a fight, you can drop her and she won't hit the ground hard."
Sil nods. "Good thinking. Let's do it. You got somewhere safe in mind we can go? The Aspenwood Vineyards is pretty far from here on foot and carrying someone. We could aim for the Atleys or somewhere in Stormwind City?"
"Oh, goodness, I'm still not terribly familiar with the city," Jenzelle says. "If you have ideas, I'll follow your lead. I do have my horse stabled outside, but I'm not sure she'd fit three of us." She clasps her hands together, murmuring another prayer to the Light. A faint light shimmers around Rozalin.
The grizzled human gets up from where he was sitting and moves closer to the bar with the rest of the crowd. However it’s also closer to Rozalin.
"I've got Sturdystrasza here too," Sil says, starting towards the door. "She's reliable, not likely to bolt. Maybe with the levitate, one of us can carry Roz and the other can watch for more helpful people? I'm not sure where to go yet, but maybe if we head in Eastvale direction…"
Jenzelle nods and lifts Rozalin up, a feat made easier by the weight adjustment, and hurries after Sil. “She’ll be safer with other Cobalts, if we can make it that far…”
Sil's mind is racing, as he starts to clear a path to the exit, with an amiable smile to set folk at ease, and a hand on his sword hilt to warn them to keep out of the way.
"I think… maybe Falrevere's place is closest to here?" Sil says quietly. "Arric Falrevere, we can trust him. Part of Cobalt's Westfall team."
"I've got her," Jenzelle says. "Let's keep your hands free, just… in case." She smiles at everyone she passes, but it is a nervous smile, accentuated by her rapid steps.
Sil keeps his eyes on everyone around them, ready to fend people off non-lethally, as they make it to where Jenzelle's horse and Sturdystrasza are tied up. Sil first moves to help Jenzelle boost the unconscious Roz onto the horse where she can be held safely.
They note a few suspicious figures in the crowd move to follow them but they all seem to keep their distance for now.
Once they're all safely horsed, Sil leads the way out of Goldshire and into the fields and forests of Elwynn. He's wandered here enough that he knows where he's going, even if this is his first official visit to Falrevere lands. It isn't that long of a ride, but they are not going at full speed, with the unconscious woman on board.
As they make their way down the road, it seems that whoever was following them has cut their losses and given up. Before long, the group find themselves at the Falrevere residence.
The property has the look of a place long abandoned that is only recently receiving care and attention. Neat work has been done on the roof and fences, but a few of the windows are still boarded over, and cosmetic touches such as fresh paint are badly needed in places.
A few sheep can be seen within the now-sturdy fence, and one of several apple trees is being tended on the other side of the house by what is presumably a human man. His upper half is hidden by foliage, so all that can be seen of him is the bottom half of his grubby overalls and boots as he stands on a sturdy A-frame ladder.
Sil slows to a walk and dismounts as they approach the house. Rather than approaching the door, he leads the horse around to where the man is working. "Hello? Sorry to bother you…"
Then man startles, almost falling off the ladder,, then descends to squint at the new arrivals. He has the look of a groundskeeper type, big bushy beard. "Lookin for the master?" he asks. "'E's inside. Knock if you like, or just go on in, 'e don't seem to care."
"Yeah, okay, I'll do that," Sil says with a nervous smile. "Thanks."
He does not just go on inside. He knocks. When you bring trouble to somebody's doorstep, it's good to be polite about it.
After a moment, a cheerful ginger man in fine clothing answers the door, looking pleased to have visitors. His eyes are a very pale blue, and he has elegant cheekbones and a fine nose but a slightly weak chin almost but not entirely disguised by a well groomed goatee.
"Hello, there!" he says. "What can I do for you?"
Jenzelle dismounts, bringing Rozalin with her, and joins Sil at the door, carrying her. "Hi, um, we're with Cobalt Company, and you're with Cobalt Company — though I'm sure you know that already, it would be strange if you didn't, surprise, you're in a mercenary company — and we were sort of hoping you could… help." She smiles. Maybe the unconscious lady will be explanation enough.
Sil gives his friendliest smile. "I'm Sil, you might remember me from Ironforge? And these two are Jenzelle and Rozalin. She's in a bit of a spot. Rozalin."
Arric's eyes go huge at the sight of the unconscious lady. Maybe unflatteringly huge. A bit fishlike. "Tides below…" he breathes. "Come inside, Sil, Jenzelle, come inside." He opens the door wide and energetically gestures them through.
The interior of the cottage is more comfortable and well appointed than the outside would make it look, but it's still a rather modest cottage furnished with a budget in mind. It is scrupulously clean though, and the couch he gestures to looks very comfortable.
"Lay her down here," he says. "What has happened?"
"We were having a drink at the tavern in Goldshire," Sil explains. "She called for a celebratory shot, and just right after…" he gestures at the unconscious Rozalin. "It was too quick to be the alcohol alone. Jenzelle had a look at her, checked her vitals, she's a healer."
Sil looks to Jenzelle, in case she wants to expand on that.
"Some sort of tranquilizer," Jenzelle says, hurrying inside after a last nervous glance behind her. "And people were so eager to help, a little too eager, I think? And one of them claimed to know her, but Sil drove her off, and I really hope they didn't follow us, you never know with some people." She sets Rozalin down on the couch.
Arric immediately fetches a rifle from the fireplace mantel and checks out the windows; his initial slightly foppish impression shifting to accommodate the additional layer of a man who Really Knows How To Use That Gun.
"Describe those who might have followed, if you would," he says, opening each of the windows just enough that the muzzle of his rifle could be slid beneath.
Sil considers. "There were a number that were acting suspicious. One claimed to be a healer, so she probably wouldn't give chase so far. The one who claimed to know her was a woman - dark, curly hair, leather and two shortswords - she might follow. There was also this grizzly lookin' guy who was sort of edging towards us, so she might have an accomplice." Sil moves over to stand by Arric, peeking out the windows. "I guess I ought to mention, she's involved in a murder case. There's reason folk might want to see her take harm before the trial."
"Who has killed whom?" Arric asks, his hands still on his rifle, eyes still scanning the approach to the property through the window. "How is she involved? A witness?"
"Someone has killed her parents," Sil says, darting a glance back at Jenzelle and the unconscious Rozalin. These details might be new to Jenzelle, too. "We don't know who, so they're lookin' at her as a suspect. I don't think it was her, but she was there closest after it happened. So, in that way, involved."
Arric's attention turns to Roz then, his eyes soft. "The poor dear," he says. He looks up at Sil then, a bit of steel behind his pale blue eyes. "No harm will come to her so long as she is my guest, I swear to you."
He lets out a shrill whistle, and from the back pads a slightly terrifying Elwynn wolf. It does not look tame or doglike; every facet of its behavior and keen blue-eyed stare screams predator. Arric opens the front door and says a single syllable in a foreign tongue, sharp and commanding. The wolf bounds through the door and takes up a spot just outside. Waiting. Daring. Come at me, bros, its posture says.
Jenzelle lets out a small squeak of surprise at the sight of the wolf, keeping the couch between herself and it until it settles outside. "Is that your…companion?" she asks.
Arric gives her a reassuring smile. "She is indeed. I call her Stormy. Don't worry, she is completely under my control. Though I would not recommend even appearing to harm me in her presence; I have never yet succeeded in calling her off when I appear to be imperiled."
"I think we can safely say we're not going to try to harm you," Sil says with a crooked smile. "So she should be fine. You're the one taking care of us. I wasn't sure where to take Roz, but then I remembered you had land out here." Sil straightens as something occurs to him. "Oh, do we need to warn your guy? The one outside?"
"Oh, I'll do that, you just wait right here. Help yourself to tea if you like, all the things are out." He gestures toward a small kitchen where indeed, all the Things appear to be Out.
He then dashes out the door, rifle in hand.
Sil glances at the kitchen, and then back to Jenzelle as Arric rushes out. "Want any tea? We might be up a while."
"Oh, goodness, I think if I had tea I'd never calm down," Jenzelle says. "No, thank you, I'll be alright." She takes a deep breath and lets it out again. "The horses will be okay, I hope?"
Sil claps a hand to his forehead. "We just… left them out there with a wolf and who knows what coming after us. Uh… Arric'll see them I'm sure. We can ask when he comes in."
Arric returns after a little while, rifle propped on his shoulder. "All the staff are safely indoors now," he announces. "I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of leading your horses to the stables? Plenty of empty stalls at present, and I put them well out of reach of Lord Bitey."
"Oh, good," Sil says, sighing with relief. "Sturdystrasza's been with me since Outland, a hell of a mare. I'd hate to see anything happen to her. Sorry to be in your hair like this, but do you mind if we stick around, at least till she wakes up?"
"Not at all, not at all!" Arric assures him. "I've been starved for new company. Stay as long as you like. I'll get some tea going…" He heads to the kitchen.
"Lord Bitey?" Jenzelle asks curiously. "That's not another wolf, is it?"
Arric chuckles. "A horse. A terrible, beautiful monster of a horse. He's properly Winter Windfall, but I call him Win-Win, and when he is stabled next to another horse, Lord Bitey. He can stretch his neck to amazing lengths to assert his lordly dominance."
"Wow, okay, yeah, glad Sturdy won't get a few new bite marks," Sil says with a wince. "Speedygos does that sort of thing sometimes, when he's around other stallions. Anyway, sure, I'd appreciate some tea. We'd better keep alert, just in case."
Arric leans his rifle against the front door, then busies himself in the kitchen making tea. An older woman appears from a back room (not the same one the wolf came from) and hurries over to smack his hand. "You let me do that!" she says. "Trying to put me out of a job!"
"Certainly not!" Arric says cheerfully, like a man who didn't just get smacked by one of his own servants. "You go back and lie down. We may be about to have visitors, and not the friendly kind." He tilts his head toward the rifle.
"Orcs??" the woman rasps.
"Oh, heavens no, Gerda," Arric says. "Just a couple of ruffians from a bar. You lie down until that headache is better, hm? I can manage tea."
Gerda grunts irritably, then shuffles off to the back again. Arric carries on with the tea-making.
Sil's eyes widen at 'orcs', and he follows Arric into the kitchen. He asks quietly, with a touch of sympathy, "She's got a history with orcs?"
"Mm," Arric says softly. "Sniper in the First War. She was a holdout, refused to go north. It took its toll. But she's a fine cook and a pleasure to talk to." He smiles affectionately.
"That must've been difficult, yeah," Sil nods, moving to take a seat at the table. "How're things going here, by the way? Looked like you're in the process of fixing up the place?"
"Mm, yes. It will take some time before the land is producing a solid income, and staff must be paid first, but I brought enough with me to at least fix the roof and fences and other essentials so a person can live and work here. You should have seen the state it was in before."
"That's definitely beyond me," Sil admits. "I'm more of a city guy. I like being out in the wilds and forests, but I'd have no idea the first thing about working land and producing income off it. Roz, though… her family had a farm out in Westfall. Once she wakes up, she might trade stories with you on trying to keep a place going."
"Oh, Westfall! I've spent time there. What a difficult life she must have had. I'm certain there is much I could learn from her about how to do more with less. I've been terribly sheltered, myself, and so I am still learning… efficiency." He glances over at the still form on the couch. "Do you think she needs anything? Or shall we just wait for… whatever it is to wear off?" He begins to look a bit fretful.
"We were pretty sure it was just a sedative," Sil says, looking nervously to Jenzelle. "Do you have any idea how long we might expect?"
Jenzelle shakes her head. "I'm really no good with poisons," she says. "The best I can do is tell that it isn't killing her. A paladin might be more helpful."
"And I'm better with poisons, not antidotes," Sil says apologetically. "Should we send word somewhere? I don't want to move her again, now that we've got her safe."
"I don't really know any paladins well enough to ask, except maybe Ben?" Jenzelle says. "But he's busy with his team, isn't he? It is rather late, and she might even wake up by the time someone gets here. But if she doesn't, then…"
"Yeah, I'd have to fetch him from the fleet somehow," Sil frowns. "I don't really know any paladins who might be around Stormwind. Do you, Arric? If not, maybe just waiting is our best shot for now."
As if on queue Rozalin groans on the sofa and begins to stir. “Uuughhhh…”
"Oh!" Arric cries, perking up. "She's all right! I'm almost finished with the tea… how does she like hers?" Everyone likes tea, of course.
Rozalin’s movements are stiff and sluggish as she tries to sit up, “Wha happened…?” After she manages to get halfway up her face turns pale, she grabs her stomach, and then flops back down.
"There there," Arric says soothingly from the kitchen. "Just rest. Let us know what you need. Perhaps some water?"
Sil looks over at Roz in concern and then back to Arric. "Maybe water to start with, but I bet tea would perk her up a little."
Arric's cottage does seem to have running water, thankfully. He fills a glass and brings it over to Jenzelle, handing it to her rather than the woozy person. Do not hand woozy people full glasses of liquids.
He then returns to finish up tea preparations.
Rozalin grabs her head and takes in a few weak, wheezy breaths.
Jenzelle takes a seat in front of the couch with the glass of water. "Rozalin?" she asks. "Would you like some water? I can help you sit up a bit more."
Sensing a presence near her, Rozalin suddenly snaps back to reality and pulls back a fist like she's about to hit whoever is in front of her. However, she relents when she sees it's Jenzelle, "What? Where the fel am I? What happened? Who-" Her eyes are panicked and she pats herself down to inspect her condition. All the while she's still quite pale, but she is very alert.
"We're at Mister Arric's house," Jenzelle says. "In Elwynn. Do you remember? You were having drinks with Sil — he's here too — and then you collapsed. I was in the area, and I helped Sil bring you here. We're all Cobalt Company, so don't worry, you're safe."
"I'm Arric Falrevere," says a cheerful voice from the nearby kitchen. "This is my little cottage. I'm a crack shot, and I've got a wolf guarding the door. You'll be safe here. I'm just making a pot of tea…"
Rozalin's eyes flash with rage when she first spots him, "Who the fu…" In her confusion she grabs onto the edge of the sofa to haul herself up and confront him, but her body has other plans. She feels her stomach turn again and flops down, clapping a hand over her mouth.
Sil looks at Roz and then to Arric in alarm. "Do you have a bucket or something? Looks like whatever they slipped her might make her…" he trails off, realizing he probably doesn't have to explain.
"Oh, hm…" Arric rummages around in a cabinet under the sink and finds a mop bucket. "This should do," he says, bringing it over to set by her, and then returning to the kitchen to start pouring tea into cups.
Rozalin pulls her hair behind her head and breathes heavily over the bucket, "He ain't… He didn't… do whatever the fuck this is, did he?" The question was rhetorical, but her tone of voice and trembling limbs suggest she'd like some confirmation anyway.
"Now why on earth would I do that?" Arric says amiably. The sound of pouring tea and clinking china can be heard.
“You ain’t met the people I have.” Rozalin pants. With her fears abated, the color slowly begins to return to her face.
"And glad of it!" he says, bringing over a tray with three cups to Sil and the women. There's also a pitcher of milk and a bowl of sugar cubes.
"And no, like Jenzelle said, everybody here is safe," Sil explains, stepping over to help Arric serve with the tea if needed. Or to have some tea if not. "We were in Goldshire, remember? When you went out, Jenzelle and I brought you to the closest safe place we could think of."
"Sorry if the tray is a bit disorderly," Arric says. "I don't have a proper housekeeper. But everything's there. If you need anything else let me know. I think we have biscuits…" He sets the tray down on the low table by the couch and wanders back into the kitchen to rummage.
Sil pours a cup of tea to set near Roz, for when she might feel up for it, and then one for himself with sugar.
“Biscuits? I ain’t got the stomach for that right now.” Rozalin says exasperated. She may have a very different notion of what a biscuit is. She keeps her head over the bucket for now, but she lets go of her hair, “What was that? I ain’t never had a drink that damn strong.”
Sil shoots a look at Jenzelle, leaving it to her to explain.
Arric just hums to himself a little, opening every cabinet in the kitchen. He doesn't seem terribly familiar with their contents.
"It was some sort of tranquilizing posion, I believe," Jenzelle says, wringing her hands in her lap. "I wasn't able to dispel it, but it wasn't killing you, only causing sedation and… whatever you're feeling now. Someone came by who claimed to know you, and she tried to take you from us. She may have had good intentions, but something didn't feel right about it, so we got you out of Goldshire. There were others, too, and I hate to suggest it, but maybe it would be best to avoid public gathering places for a while?"
“Shit…” Rozalin shakes her head, “I’ve had people try and nab me by drinkin me under the table before… part of the reason I got so good at holdin it, but…” Rozalin pinches the bridge of her nose, “Wait, you said someone came along who said they knew me?”
"Yeah, girl with dark curly hair, knew you by Terrineth," Sil repeats the description again, glancing over at the kitchen.
Roz’s eyes go cold, “Dark skin and grey eyes? Bombshell lookin gal?”
"Uh, I was not assessin' bombshell status at the time," Sil says, considering. "Probably good-looking? Anyway, suspicious as hell, which is why we left."
"Ah, here they are!" Arric says with quiet triumph as he finds a container of half-crumbled tea biscuits and brings it over to add it to the tray.
He then moves back to the windows at the front of the house, peering out of them for any sign of trespassers.
“Fuck…” Rozalin buries her head in her hands and starts to bounce her knees.
There do not appear to be any suspicious characters outside. At least none that Arric can see.
"The biscuits might help," Sil suggests, pushing the tray closer to Rozalin. "Could settle your stomach some."
Rozalin takes a biscuit. She nibbles on it while she drops four sugar cubes into her tea, “That sounds like Cass to me.”
"Well, she's probably not gonna get past Stormy and Arric here," Sil says, nodding to him at the window. "And Jenzelle and I weren't about to let her take you in the tavern. From your reaction, I'd guess you're on bad terms?"
“Just a bit. She’s the one who nabbed me the first time.” Rozalin takes a sip of tea and scrunches her nose a bit at it. Not the flavor or quality she’s used to, “And Crim said he got like six of her guys so I’m sure she’s fucking pissed right now.”
"Then we did right," Sil nods. He adds to Arric, "There was a mercenary team, what she's talking about. They kidnapped her and were taking her somewhere secretly, for a fellow called Lescovar. Don't know why, but probably nothing good. Seems like he doesn't care to see this trial carried out proper."
“He’s got some beef with the boss or some shit it sounds like.” Rozalin adds.
"Lescovar?" Arric echoes, startled. "I know that name from the Cobalt Company files, when I was studying the Defias Beotherhood. Baron Gregor Lecovar. Deceased member of the House of Nobles, pulling the strings behind the Defias, possibly involved with the Twilight's Hammer. Not that Lescovar surely. He was assassinated, though they never learned by whom."
"Involved with the Twilight's Hammer?" Sil repeats, eyebrows raising. "They seem to get everywhere these days. But yeah, probably that Lescovar family, at least. I think his son's in the House of Nobles now. Doesn't seem much more pleasant of a guy."
"Oh Tides, he had a son and they let him serve?" Arric shakes his head. "That seems like a recipe for disaster. But yes, this Lescovar was apparently very tight with one Lady Katrana Prestor, a name you certainly recognize, yes? Did she not turn into a black dragon in front of half of Cobalt Company? It seems Twilight's Hammer and black dragons go together like tea and biscuits."
Rozalin raises an eyebrow at Arric’s unfamiliar manner of speech but sips her tea and nibbles her biscuit quietly while she tries to shake off the rest of the effects of the drug.
"People turn into dragons in Stormwind?" Jenzelle asks, surprised. That question might be rhetorical, since, clearly, it's happened at least once. "Mister Arric, you were studying the Defias? What for?"
"They do sometimes, I guess - I definitely heard about that going down," Sil shakes his head. "Could be that's what he's got against Sir Ference, the uncovering of his family's dragon ally. It kind of makes me wonder if the older Lescovar had second thoughts about the dragons and the cultists, and so they took him out. Might be his son is even more in their pocket than he was."
Rozalin shrinks and gets a little jittery, “What kind of crazy ass conspiracy did I get thrown into here?”
Sil smiles in a manner he hopes is reassuring and says, "Hey, don't worry about it. You're safe here, yeah? No dragons or cultists or Lescovars will get in here at you, we got your back."
"Yeah… I really can't thank y'all enough for all this." Rozalin pulls her knees up to her chest, "I can't wait for this all to be over…"
Sil nods, and glances back to Arric. "To Jenzelle's question - you have an interest in the Defias?"
"Ah yes, I was asked to join the team that uncovered their most recent conspiracy against Stormwind. Unfortunately, not in time to stop them from burning Sentinel Hill." He pauses. Blinks. "Also Vanessa VanCleef got away. Now that I look back over it, I'm not certain how much help we really were. But we did clear out the Deadmines and remove all of her top lieutenants."
"Oh, you were in the Westfall team," Sil says, nodding. "I met one other of your teammates down by Moonbrook, girl called Kenelly, and the fellow Birdie I knew in the 7th, briefly. Anyway, maybe you've got to look on the bright side of things. She'll have a hard time causing problems without her top lieutenants, right? And I heard you all were helping folk out there, which is not nothing, either."
"Yes, that was the most important part," Arric says earnestly. "We were following a trail of murders that Vanessa had perpetrated to cover up her identity and keep the imminent uprising a secret until the last moment."
Rozalin frowns and gets a thousand yard stare thinking about the Defias uprising and all the havoc it wrought on her life.
Arric gazes over at her and frowns in concern. "I imagine our guest may be a bit tired after all she's gone through. Now that we've given her a bit of sustenance, perhaps she could do with some quiet time?"
"Yeah… you might be right - do you… wow, I'm being presumptuous today, but do you have a guest room, maybe, for the ladies?" Sil asks with an apologetic wince. "I can help you keep watch, I've got sharp eyes."
"You're more than welcome, but I'm not certain how comfortable you'll be. I haven't really built onto the house yet, so it's still only got three bedrooms. One's mine, Gerda's in one of them nursing her headache right now, and the other one smells of wolf a bit, because I keep Stormy there when I'm crate-training her. You could stay in my room, and the women could move into the, er, wolf room for now… and then share with Gerda when she's feeling better? Stormy is fine outside for the time being.'"
Rozalin smiles weakly at everyone. So many people all going out of their way for her.
"That… could work?" Sil is clearly juggling rooms and people in his mind. "So long's you don't mind an extra person in your own room."
"Oh not at all," says Arric brightly. "It'll be jolly good fun, like sleepovers when I was a boy. Do let me know if I talk too much when you're trying to sleep, though."
Sil chuckles. "I will - though it might be a nice change for me too, having a friend nearby to talk to. Jenzelle, Roz, you two are alright in the wolf room?"
"Oh, yes, I should be fine, as long as… Stormy doesn't pay us a visit in the middle of the night," Jenzelle says. "It'll be much better than camping out in the Plaguelands I'm sure."
"I'ts not unsanitary I assure you," Arric is quick to point out, "but you can't keep a wild animal indoors for more than an hour without the room taking on a certain… musk. And she's fine outside, it's where she grew up after all. I only use the room for training."
“Y-yeah. I think so. I always wanted to have a dog growing up anyway.” Rozalin jokes.
"And Stormy always probably wanted a fine young woman… as a snack!" Arric quips with a wink. "I'll make sure she doesn't disturb you."
Between the wolf and the horse, Arric seems to have a Type in his animal companions.
Rozalin tries to shoot Arric a tired look at the joke, but she can’t quite manage it. She ends up chuckling a little instead.
Arric seems pleased at this sign of life in their "patient."
"Speaking of Stormy, I haven't heard any screams of pain from out there, so it might be we've shaken off pursuit," Sil says, glancing towards the window. "Might be time to settle in for the night? Jenzelle, you can help Roz? And Arric, if you think we ought to stay up a little later, just in case, I'll keep with you."
"Yes, let's keep watch for just a while longer. If I see even the slightest movement outside I'll fire a warning shot. That's dissuaded more than a few bandits since I moved in here."
"Still have bandit problems, huh?" Sil says. "I guess maybe now more than ever, with all the folk coming back from the war and struggling. I hope things'll get better soon."
“You can say that again.” Rozalin stands up and stretches. She grabs her stomach again, clearly not feeling 100% quite yet, but she’s firm on her feet at least.
Jenzelle stands by, ready to help her if needed. "Thank you Mister Arric, for putting us up with such short notice and potential danger to yourself. And you can thank Stormy for us too, if wolves… um. Understand that sort of thing."
Arric smiles. "I will convey your message," he says. "She certainly is useful to have around at moments like this."
“Thanks everyone…” Roz says meekly.
"No trouble at all," says Arric. "My day was looking to be rather dull before you lot showed up. Let me know if you need more tea, or… water, or… cheese and apples… I can't cook, and I have no idea when Gerda will be feeling up to it."
“I could lend a hand if you’d like.” Rozalin offers, “I’m a pretty mean cook and I really owe you one. It’s the least I can do.”
"Oh, heavens no, you're my guest!" he objects immediately. Then he seems to think it over. "Then again, if you get desperately hungry and there's nothing for you but cheese and apples, that's probably worse than having to cook. I'll leave it to you to decide."
“It’s really not a big deal. I used to cook for people all the time.” Rozalin says.
"Then by all means make yourself at home in the kitchen," Arric says. "Once your stomach settles, that is. Cooking smells might make things worse." He glances in the direction of the cabinets, which are clearly visible from the sitting room; it's not a huge house. "I know we have various ingredients lying about," he muses, "but I'll be damned - pardon my Arathi - if I know what half of them are for."
Rozalin flashes him a smirk and winks, “I’ll figure it out.”
"Maybe you can teach us a thing or two," Sil says with a smile.