Vaerlin and Sycophus at the Bar

[Anume]

You tell Vaerlin 'Have you decided it's time to let me dress you, yet?'

Vaerlin tells you 'Well, I've not terribly experienced in the ways of the tailor, but is fashion supposed to be so painful?'

You tell Vaerlin 'Sometimes great art requires great sacrifice. And the art of fashion is surely the greatest.'

You tell Vaerlin 'Don't worry, honey. I'll be tender.'

Vaerlin tells you 'How about consultation, as a compromise?'

You tell Vaerlin 'As I aptly proved, I am not yet cut out for forcing my gift upon others. You may approach me without fear of a second attempt, for the time being.'

You tell Vaerlin 'Perhaps we can do the sewing without you in the suit, so to speak.'

Vaerlin tells you 'I must say I wasn't aware being well-dressed was held in such high regard in these civilized lands. I've been quite removed from social trends for quite some time, I fear you'd have a lot of work to do.'

You tell Vaerlin 'I am prepared to undertake the task. After all, I've been ordered to leave no fashion crimes unaddressed.'

Vaerlin tells you 'Who has given you the task, if I may inquire?'

You tell Vaerlin 'Why, the Great Divas, sugar. Who else?'

Vaerlin tells you 'I can't say I'm familiar with these... Great Divas. They sound fascinating.'

You tell Vaerlin 'Oh, they're not so much fascinating as they are fabulous.'

You tell Vaerlin 'Great purveyors of fashion sense, class, and good taste.'

Vaerlin tells you 'And you are their right hand, their fashion guard?'

You tell Vaerlin 'Sadly, no. I am but the last of them.'

You tell Vaerlin 'My orders were issued with their dying breaths. And I, half-trained and half the diva they were, MUST fulfill the order.'

Vaerlin tells you 'The last? Was there a posh purge or some such thing? It's a curious and interesting tale.'

You tell Vaerlin 'A posh purge. How... amusingly named. Yes, something like that.'

Vaerlin tells you 'I can't imagine why there would be such an interest in removing these Divas. Unless, of course, they were all as... dedicated... as you are.'

You tell Vaerlin 'I do not pretend to know the motives of the men who destroyed my home and mentors.'

You tell Vaerlin 'But I do not seek revenge. I merely seek to fulfill my mission.'

Vaerlin tells you 'I am intrigued. I grew up with stories of socialites and sensible individuals, but I've seen decidedly few since my return. Perhaps this is my explanation.'

You tell Vaerlin 'The systematic destruction of things that are "different"? Yes, perhaps.'

You tell Vaerlin 'My mentors were not bad people. They merely liked make-up and wearing women's clothing. That doesn't make them bad.'

You tell Vaerlin 'But that is why they were destroyed.'

Vaerlin tells you 'Have you considered a disciple, to continue your work? Your current manifestation used to walk these stricken lands is only temporary, after all.'

You tell Vaerlin 'Which is why I seek the gift of the Magnificent Lady. If she can grant me eternal life in return for my soul, then I can continue my mission until it is finished.'

Vaerlin tells you 'That is certainly dedication.'

Vaerlin tells you 'Perhaps we can meet somewhere for a chat? I would like to hear your story.'

You tell Vaerlin 'I will be in Rheydin shortly.'

Vaerlin tells you 'I do have assurances you won’t choke the life out of me, as last time?'

Vaerlin tells you 'I'm fond of breathing, you see.'

You tell Vaerlin 'You can be reasonably assured that I won't do any violence. I'm wearing a new coat, and don't want to get any blood on it.'

Vaerlin tells you 'Excellent.'

Vaerlin approaches the central commons, the *tip,tap* of his blackwood staff against the flagstones heralding his arrival.

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Hey there, sugar.'

Risking a slap to the face, you give Vaerlin a peck on the cheek.

'He-' Vaerlin begins, pausing as the kiss is received. Abraxas, his winged companion, blinks and canters its scaly head. 'Hello.'

Vaerlin says 'Would you like a drink? I'm told the bars are supposed to be ideal places for such meetings.'

Sycophus shrugs his shoulders. 'You offering to buy me a drink? I'm flattered, but I don't you're my type.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'However... the common room should suffice for our purposes.'

Sycophus gestures eastward. 'After you, my dear.'

Vaerlin lifts a brow, his social faux pas and your response lost on him. 'Very well.'

The Red Dragon Inn Commons

You stand within the Red Dragon Inn commons. A large wooden

bar spans the room here, and a very pretty serving girl is

here, pouring ales for the guests. A large stage has been

set up here for traveling performers, and a small stairway

leads upward to the rooms on the next floor.

[Exits: north south]

A long wooden bar spans the room here.

Tamara the Bartender is here, preparing ales.

Vaerlin take up station at the bar, placing his staff atop the polished table - that is, until the young mage notices Tamara's hateful glare. He takes up back up, and leans it against a nearby stool.

Sycophus plops down, legs splayed out widely, on a nearby bench. Beckoning Tamara over, he sets down a small purse.

'Oh,' Vaerlin says, peering at the list of purchasables on the wall behind the barmaid. 'Beer... the druids quite enjoy that. Perhaps I'll have one.'

'Or is that improper,' Vaerlin interjects his own line of thought, looking at the diva.

Tamara approaches Sycophus, a smile of recognition in her eyes. 'Tamara, darling, it's been too long.'

Clearly intent on his interaction with the barmaid, Sycophus ignores the question. 'Yes, yes it has dear,' Tamara says, smiling widely. 'A pity I didn't know you were coming, or I'd have worn the dress.'

Sycophus smiles faintly. 'No matter, dear. You look ravishing no matter what you wear.' Nodding in Vaerlin's direction he says, 'Two beers, one for me and one for my cute friend.'

Tamara backs a few steps away from Sycophus before turning towards the bar, and says, 'Sure thing, sweet pea. On the house.'

Vaerlin rises from his chosen perch, dragging the stool behind him to sit opposite his new drinking buddy. 'Thank you,' Vaerlin says, as he settles down once again.

Sycophus turns his attention back to Vaerlin. 'She's the best, isn't she?'

'If you aren't working for her,' Vaerlin responds, watching the owner retreat to take up their order. 'She can be a little abrasive, but it is a business, after all.'

Sycophus places his hand up to whisper conspiratorially, 'She may have a few extra pounds in the hindquarters, but she makes up for it with that impressive... stature.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'One of my best works, she is. And my first.'

Vaerlin turns his burning emerald oculars toward you, stealing a quick moment in silent regard. 'Well done,' the young mage comments.

'Ah yes,' Vaerlin says, lifting a dirty finger. He proceeds to rummage through his travel pack.

Vaerlin says 'Your earlier comments reminded me...'

Vaerlin gets a sexy crimson nightie from a travel bag.

Sycophus grins faintly. 'Are you going to model that for me, dear?' Tamara returns with the two mugs of beer and sets them down, shaking her head with a mischievous grin when she sees the lingerie being displayed.

Vaerlin peers at the skimpy night-wear he pulls from the bag, smoothing out the creases. 'Wearing women's clothing and that. I found it curious when I found it - no protection from the elements, after all. Bu- what?'

'N-no,' Vaerlin retorts, eyeing his companion quizzically. 'I have no use for it. I thought I might give it to you.'

Sycophus grins even wider than before. 'Perhaps later,' he says, with no small amount of cheekiness.

Vaerlin says 'Perhaps you might have some purpose for it. Either... personal use, or perhaps a gift to someone you feel needs a new look.'

Vaerlin gives you a sexy crimson nightie.

Sycophus says with a soft chuckle, 'I know a few people this might look good on. I'll see that it gets put to... good use.'

'Good, good,' Vaerlin says, shifting atop his acquired bar stool. He takes up the beer set before him, and takes a tentative sip.

Vaerlin says 'Szsoo, iif YOouhH woULd, I WouhHld liike tO HheaR abOoUt yaoU.'

Vaerlin blinks back tears earned from the burning sensation of the alcohol. He hiccups, and peers with surprised expression at nothing in particular.

Sycophus chuckles, then proceeds to drink deeply from his own mug.

'Strong stuff,' Vaerlin mutters - or thinks he mutters, though volume betrays his inebriated state.

The alcohol having no visible affect on him, Sycophus shrugs. 'What do you want to know?' he queries.

'Why don't we start from the beginning,' Vaerlin says. He eyes the mug suspiciously before placing it back upon the table between them.

Vaerlin says 'Where do you come from?'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'A run down shack off of North Cari.'

'Cari,' Vaerlin repeats, tasting the young as though it will help him divine its location. 'I don't believe I've heard of it.'

Sycophus pulls some herbs out of his pouch, and quickly lights a pipe.

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Sure you have. It's on the eastern side of Miruvhor.'

'Cari... cari- Ah!' Vaerlin waggles a finger in the air. 'Cariousus, was it?' He nods sagely, pleased with himself.

You nod.

Vaerlin spies the pipe, and then with some trepidation considering his experience with the beer, pulls forth a cigar.

Vaerlin holds one of Mr. Halon's cigars in his hand.

Sycophus gestures for Tamara to bring another round. She drops them off, shaking her head at Vaerlin's reaction to the alcohol.

Vaerlin says 'What did you do, before encountering these Great Divas?'

Sycophus frowns faintly, his eyes narrowing. 'Survived.'

Vaerlin says 'Miruvhor can be a difficult place, or so I've heard.'

Sycophus mutters under his breath. 'No idea.' Audibly, he says, 'Yes, that's one way of putting it.'

Vaerlin lights up the cigar betwixt his fingers, puffing lightly at it. He grunts with satisfaction, not altogether displeased with its taste and aroma.

The young mage's green eyes return to his companion. Something there remained unsaid - but Vaerlin deigned to leave it be for the moment, instead saying, 'When did you meet the Divas?'

'When I was fourteen.' Sycophus' lips twitch in the briefest of smiles - clearly the memory is not unpleasant.

Vaerlin nods his head. 'A ripe age for tutelage, certainly. What did they teach you?'

Abraxas, Vaerlin's dragon companion, chooses a spot between the legs of his charge's stool upon which to curl up. He rests, but remains diligent.

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'They began with basic tailoring skills. Hemming, sewing. Then they moved on to aesthetic theory.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Eventually, they allowed me to accompany them on consultations. I began a true apprenticeship when that happened, learning the craft, not just the theory behind it.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'And like any other apprentice, I had my good moments... and my bad.'

Sycophus turns away, staring off into the distance.

Vaerlin enjoys another puff from his cigar before continuing with litany of questions. 'There seems to be more to that, then.'

Sycophus turns back and says coldly. 'No. There is no more. I was apprenticed, I learned, and before I could be tested and acknowledged as a true Diva, my mentors were killed.'

'Are you aware of who it was who killed them?' Vaerlin queries, unperturbed by the tone. Questions such as these and displeased reactions, Vaerlin had found, oft go hand in hand.

Sycophus schools his face and tone back to their usual pleasantness. 'No, sweetheart. I tried to investigate the deaths, but I was just a kid. So I moved on.'

'Respectable.' Vaerlin says, taking up the brew before him. 'It seems the lust for revenge is the primary driving force behind most of the tales I've heard. That, or the lust for power.'

You nod.

'But your story is different,' Vaerlin says, placing the mug back sloppily. 'Intriguing.'

Vaerlin says 'HoW mMany of tHhEse Divas WehRe TheREh?'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Seven.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'One for each of the great Arts, and one to lead them.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Sculpture, Painting, Architecture, Music, Literature, and Fashion.'

'Oh,' Vaerlin says in a tone slightly higher than normal. It appears the number interested him greatly. 'Fascinating. Who was the leader?'

Sycophus chuckles softly, 'Many say if you are a jack of all trades, you must be a master of none.' He shrugs his shoulders gently. 'But be that as it may, he was the closest of seen to mastering them all.'

Vaerlin says 'He sounds a true genius.'

Sycophus smiles again, clearly lost in memory. 'Yes. He was.'

Vaerlin says 'May I know his name?'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Master was all I ever knew him by.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'The first lesson I learned, and with the most difficulty, was that there was no need for names among the Divas. They were to be referred to by the name of their craft.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Music was music. Literature was literature. And Master was master.'

'I see,' Vaerlin responds. 'So you are now the sole member of these elite artists. You, too, are skilled in all the mediums you mentioned earlier I imagine.

Sycophus laughs loudly. 'Hardly. I studied specifically under Fashion, and took little from the other Divas.

Vaerlin says 'Was that as a result of your incomplete training, or was fashion your only interest?'

'I showed no aptitude for the other arts, and so why would they waste their time with me?' Sycophus states matter-of-factly.

Vaerlin says 'And yet now you are all that remain. Ironic, hmn.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Indeed. Well, sugar...'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'As much as I wish I could stay to chat more, I grow weary and need a respite.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'After all, it's difficult looking this good all the time - quite fatiguing.'

'I appreciate your story, and hospitality,' Vaerlin says.

Vaerlin says 'Any last-minute suggestions, before I find myself a victim of your quest?'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'At the very least, rinse off the signs of nature. You look like you've been carousing through a thorn bush.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'And go down to the Adventurer's Supply, and tell Manhean I sent you. He'll patch up your clothes, and give you some lace.'

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Lace makes a man civilized, I always say.'

'Lace,' Vaerlin repeats, mentally cataloguing the advice.

You nod.

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Until we meet again, then.'

Sycophus sweeps a low bow, complete with a flourish of his hat.

'Indeed,' Vaerlin says, rising. He attempts a bow of his own, though it is decidedly less practiced.

Vaerlin says 'Good luck in your dealings.'

You nod.

Risking a slap to the face, you give Vaerlin a peck on the cheek.

Sycophus says with a slight lisp, 'Be good, pumpkin.'

You wink suggestively at Vaerlin.

'Abraxas,' Vaerlin says, turning to take up the staff he'd left by the bar. His winged companion, in turn, goes airborne a moment, only to alight upon the mage's shoulders.

Vaerlin walks north.