After they have risen and bathed, the adventurers reconvene in a courtyard garden for a breakfast of succulent fruits, fresh flavorful breads, sweet butter, and tender honeyed ham sliced so thinly that it almost dissolves on the tongue.The hour is early, so the midsummer sun has not yet warmed the air to an uncomfortable degree. Songbirds twitter their morning madrigals; bees and butterflies go about their business from flower to flower, while one of the college's cooks hums softly to herself as she harvests some herbs.
The quiet, pastoral ease of the moment is suddenly spoiled by the appearance of Qroc, a jarring reminder of yestereve's various dramas.
"Good morning, assholes," he chirps. "What a pretty day! Wow, you all look like stir-fried shit. Long night, I guess." He grabs a roll of bread and shoves it in his mouth whole, but this does not keep him from saying unpleasant things as he chews noisily.
"Nice tattoo!" He quips to Laurie. "I have one just like it on my ass," he brags, showing her a full moon.To Varel he says, "Oh, one of the maids almost got her face eaten off by that fuckin' wolf of yours this morning. You just gonna leave it locked in your room the whole time? No wonder it's pissed."
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The summoned plants have climbed the high stone walls of the courtyard and thrown their tallest stems, trunks, and tendrils towards the sun. The vegetation completely masks the stone arches and walls that enclose the yard, and serves to insulate students from external noise.
The gardens at the College of High Summoning are a microcosm of Tyritrian flora, with emblematic samples of plant life from each of duchy. Bright green ladyknuckle flowers sprout from a bed of white leaves - merely a taste of the wide, pale praeries of Tetaruk, where beds of ladyknuckles stretch for leagues between coniferous mountains. In a pot near a granite reading slab, what looks like an upright and rolled-up scroll of purplish leaves, quivers lightly as the first rays of sunlight strike it - a tiny brass plaque on the pot's rim identifies it as a Nocturna. Fat, waxy leaves hang from a succulent vine that has taken the northern archway as its own - a juice-ivy, perhaps. To be sure one would have to cut the leaves and drink the sweet liquids inside, but harming the rare plant would surely elicit the wrath of the college gardeners, whom, as every student at the College knew, were the most prideful of the campus servants, and were not to be trifled with.
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Salbadore is a morning person, and has been here for quite a while. For his part, he recognizes and appreciates the labor of gardeners, so close to his own work. He kneels before the ladyknuckles. "Were that this was Wolfgramm . . ." He inhales the ever-so-lightly citric scent. ". . . that I had made my way and could return full of pride."
By the time Orthos or anyone else arrives, Salbadore is leaning on one of the polished granite platforms provided for students requiring fresh air while they labor. He is wearing fine clothes in the same style as those summoned up by the djinn the previous evening. His kreisbuch is on a strap over his shoulder, and Salbadore is taking notes in a tiny hide-covered booklet.
Laurie shows up for breakfast a couple minutes late. Her hair has been carefully pulled back to cover her ears and the back of her neck, and her face looks softer, less refined. Only careful inspection, and foreknowledge, reveal the elven influence in her features.
She sits across the table from Salbadore, and is careful to make sure she doesn't accidentally brush against him as she gets some food. When Qroc mentions the tattoo and moons her, she throws a roll at him. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
Qroc sighs. "I suppose I do, sweetheart, but I'm so bored of tormenting the kids around here, and it's so refreshing to have visitors like you to torment!"
"Admit it. There's a little part of you that actually likes me. Attracted to me, even?" He winks lewdly. "You know I have way more personality than these lame-assed 'friends' of yours. I don't even mind that you're elfie. I actually think it's kind of sexy. Rowr."
"And if you think that I'm too small to show you a good time, I'll have you know I can grow to gigantic proportions when duty calls!"
As others arrive at the garden, Salbadore greets them and exchanges niceties as appropriate.
He has already served himself and has almost finished eating his meal by the time Laurie arrives some minutes later. Immediately Salbadore stands and points at her. Before she can take two steps into the gardens, he demands, "How can you still be here?"
Qroc sneers at Salbadore. "Do you mind, cockblock? I'm trying to get my game on here!"
Orthos comes rushing up to the garden.
"Please forgive me for being so late. Oh! I'm famished. This all looks great."
Orthos digs heartily into the food, trying to talk politely, but still eat heartily.
"Lord Virgis has taken Laurie under his wing for now. I'm to look after her for the time being. Make sure she doesn't get into to much trouble."
Orthos winks at Laurie and pauses briefly to eat more.
"And I have some travelling to do soon, and I want you to come with me. I'll wait till everyone arrives to explain the details."
Orthos' running entrance is sufficient to draw Salbadore's attention away from Laurie. Orthos explains the arrangement to Salbadore, who draws his pointing finger to his lips. "Is this true?" he asks Laurie, one eyebrow raised.
Upon an affirmative response, Salbadore concedes, calms himself, and withdraws to the breakfast table. "Then I shall have to aid you in the task of taming our yet-unbroken bard. So, then, are you a spy?" He frowns and pulls his goatee as he waits for Laurie's explanation.
But - Orthos, rushing as though late for an appointment, has more to tell. Salbadore nods as he listens to the story. "Nevermind, lass. You shall explain later, I'm sure, and we will come to an understanding." The genomancer bows his head, closes his eyes, and puts his hand on his heart in a formalized expression of sorrow. "My condolences to you, dear Orthos." Lifting his head. He continues, "As bad as all this is, I fear that Varel has had the worst of what was an awful evening for many of us."
Varel neurotically twirled her hair as she listened to her companions converse. She felt awkward wearing the same dress two days in a row, but it was all she had. The rest were too riddled with dry rot and maggot holes to ever be worn again. Though her stomach grumbled she politely refused the tavern menu and awkwardly ordered a water.
She smiled then and seemed to calm down until Qroc spoke to her. Her eyes grew bloodshot and she scolded him harshly. "Don't you EVER speak to me! Do it again and I'll tear your lying tongue out, I swear it! "
"Aye, girl. Tell us what gnaws at you so. Has your animal attacked one of the servants now?"
Even Qroc is surprised by the ferocity of Varel's reaction to his taunting. He flies a little further up to put some distance between himself and the young druidess before remarking, "Don't take your rag out on me, chickie. You're the one who wanted to draw five cards. I didn't force your hand one bit. Whatever losses you have incurred, you have only yourself to blame for them."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I hear the Master calling."
Varel replies to Salbadore. "He's not my animal. Never was. If I had known Qroc's deck could hurt other people I'd not have drawn." She then turns to Qroc and yells, "And you'll pay for that imp. Remember these words. If I thought I could I would murder you where you stand. And maybe when I'm more powerful I will. I hate you!"
The door to the outside opens and Mercurio comes staggering in. He winks at the chambermaid who escorted him, goosing her as he passes by. He marches toward the dormitory, upturning a bottle over his mouth. He frowns as only a meager drop falls forth. As he tosses it over his shoulder he blinks as he sees the rest of the party. He quickly puts on a smile.
"Hu-.. Hey! Ye... ye fu- folk up already!" He says, holding a hand over his head to shield the sunlight.
He shuffles over to the table and sits down next to the food. His clothes resemble those worn the night before, albiet with more stains and with the shirt inside out. As he sits down a smell, part smoke, part distillery, part House of Ill Repute, wafts over the party.
He starts shoveling food into his mouth without paying heed to the conversation around him.
Mercurio turns to Varel, his eyes confused, his mouth full of food. He says something that's obscured by freshly buttered biscuits. He then continues eating.
Salbadore's eyes betray his surprise at the ferocity of Varel's reply. As she screams at the devilkin, he makes little effort to show that he has been cowed by her grief and anger; he bows his head.
He takes the slight distraction afforded by Markus' entrance to reach for another piece of toast, which he begins to eat in silence.
Laurie is surprised by Salbadore's vehement response to her entrance, and is about to say something when Orthos enters and explains. In answer to Salbadore's question about the arrangement, she merely nods her head in affirmation.
As she hears Qroc's advances, she laughs. "Please. I think even Nibben's ass isn't as scrawny as yours." With that, she fills her plate again and draws her legs up into her chair, setting the plate on her knees. She eats as the others talk, pointedly ignoring Salbadore's inquiries about her occupation.
When Mercurio finally arrives, she wrinkles her nose and looks down her nose at him, obviously displeased. "Glad to see you were able to make it." She then turns to Orthos. "So, tell us about this travel you wish our company on?"
Mercurio swings his head up toward Laurie. He speaks with his mouth full.
"Oh! Now tha' we annelf we look downnat th' folk tha' save ya lifa time, that? Well, sor-," he starts coughing and hacking as some ham goes down the wrong pipe. Once he settles down he wipes his mouth and looks around at everyone.
"Wot we talkin' bout, then?"
Nibben arrives late, having spent the better part of the evening trying to figure out how his new bag works. He wanders to the group and anxiously awaits to see what is transpiring.
"Right then. Laurie's said it. Master Nibben is here. I was hoping you might accompany me back to Tetaruk - but if we have other business to attend to, let's have it."
"Isn't this delicous?" Orthos asks. "Varel, eat up, breakfast is for everyone."
Orthos enjoys a few more slices of ham and then clears his throat.
"Well, to add to the incredible events of late, my father's brother has gone missing. Those closest to him, have contacted me to come settle his estate. I'll be travelling to Dale-town, and would like all of you to accompany me there."
Orthos hastily grabs a few more bites to eat, while eagerly awaiting his companions' replies.
Laurie grabs another biscuit. "I would be glad to accompany you. I think I've had my fill of this city for now. Do we leave on the morrow, there are one or two things I'd like to pick up first."
"I too need make a few purchases. I thought if everyone was able, we'd all take a trip into the city proper, pick up supplies, and be on our way."
"Ah. A disappeared uncle. I am sorry to hear of it. Please accept my sincere condolences - of course I'll go with you." In response to the comments about shopping, he adds, "Agreed. I was planning on taking the day off - and the day's repertoire of operations are not well suited to dangerous travels. But -" he swallows his last bit of toast "- this matter could be pressing."
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