#taleyriel

Marhus blinks at the sudden question before making a quick check to see if he hadn’t today before clearing his throat, “Yes, a fair few times. Attempting to find a new potion to market can be a dangerous task, not to mention my particular strength of magic leads to destruction not only to those around me, but myself at times.”

Faerizian sat outside the elder’s council, his chest tight and hardly able to breathe. He’d never felt so tense before and it was impossible to calm down. He wanted to calm down, needed to. ‘The facade is only as good as its weakest moment… The facade is only as good as its weakest moment…’ He kept repeating to himself, trying to build himself back up. To hold on.

Rizzy had taken his place among the caravan with ease initially. Slipping into the role of Faerizian without a single misstep. Eight years of training had prepared him for the assignment. He had lived, breathed, reconstructed himself into a character that was believable and real. Too real.

Faedrys had joined him a moment and tried to comfort him, but there was nothing she could do. Nothing he could tell her. ‘She’s the enemy. You have to do your job. Everything you’ve been doing, all the indignities you’ve suffered all come to this moment.’ He was planted to vote the council in the direction the old witch wanted. He was there to push the caravan into her hands and this would be the first vote in which his job mattered. He was heir and his age had come to pass to offer his voice…

But he loved the new family he was in. The trials they faced together never felt like indignities like training in the camps had. They offered friendship, affection, trust, things that had been entirely lacking in his childhood. This was his family. So did he steer them in the right direction? Protect them from dangers he was clearly aware of? ...Or did he do his job?

“Troubled?” Came a deeper voice than pretty Faedrys’.

“Yeah…” Riz replied, without looking up, spinning the ring of his… no… of the boy he’d killed and replaced… the ring of his foremothers and fathers. No, this was his ring. His now. He had slaved, and protected the caravan with his life. Performed by their side, he earned the titles he held among them… “Having trouble deciding what to vote.”

“Are you? Shouldn’t it be an easy answer?”

Riz looked up then, he didn't recognize the man, an odd sensation filling in his gut that was already too tense for self reflection. One he would come to know in later years very very well. A sense of danger that kept him safe, even when standing before Captains and Purveyors and Magistrates, titles he was all too unaware of now. “Maybe… Who are you? I haven’t seen you in camp before.”

“Maybe? What’s holding you back Riz?”

“Just… want to do what’s right for the caravan.”

“What’s right for the caravan? Isn't it to do your job?”

Faerizian furrowed, staring at the big man, noticing behind the lines of his cowl his skin was much too pale for ones walking in the sun as much as they did. “My job… I’m the heir here. I have many jobs but this one, right this moment is to protect the caravan. Now who are you?”

“No name, but you may call me Hidden, Operative.”

Riz’s chest clenched with panic even further. He couldn’t breathe or scream or move. He hadn’t felt the pin prick in his arm. Hadn’t realized the poison seeping into his veins. He had nothing with which to escape.

“Hush now. You never have to worry about being heir again.”

The next thing Riz had remembered was being bound and slumped over horseback, never to see home again.

“Thank you for thinkin enough of me t’feel you needed t’negotiate this at all. Sorta feels like I do a lot of work round here for no’ lot of… recognition for it.” What was he saying? Reeds bend, not seek recognition, and yet the tiny list of people he wanted it from. The people he worked hardest for, and he had busted his ass for Kurel, broken and reforged himself for the man. Found freedom under his tutelage, it was rewarding when the blind man saw him.

Kurel approached him. Putting his hand on the man’s shoulder and with a little guidance started for the door. “You do a lo’. I know. If ever seems like I don’, I do,” He shrugged slightly, “Place in The Empress? Purveyor of Daggercape? All of it?”

Rizzy chuckled, heading for the door with him, comfortable despite the unusual closeness, “Y’start sayin stuff like that… an too many more favors Kurel… y’gonna end up contractin y’self an heir t’this empire. Careful.”

Kurel made a low ‘hmming’ sound and it was perhaps -much- too thoughtful on the very idea that was raised. “Well I’ve no intention to live forever, bu’ for now. Ge’ the fuck ou’ my house.” And it couldn’t be said without the smallest hint of a grin.

Riz grinned back and for once didn’t sound annoyingly high pitched as he made his way out, but practically sincere, “Love you too, Kurel.”

It took all the way to SIlvermoon and the gathering of his friends for Rizzy to realize what he had done. What idea he might have put in the Trade Lord’s head. Rubbing his thumb where once the ring had sat. What he had said. Leah had suggested he sit. Her’s, Aranya’s, Killian’s, Taleyriel’s; their words buzzed about his head without hearing much of any of it and he wondered what sort of future he had cause for himself. The sudden care package from parts unknown only made it worse. He was building things, and as Kurel so often happened upon generous benefactors, so too had Rizzy. What had he locked himself into thinking…

What was Sunspire to him? What was Kurel? What was he doing? What about Saeris and his place in everything to him? He scratched at his thumb again, only now imagining a scarab signet in its place. He could groom the position. If he wanted it, really wanted it, he had the skills to seize it now. He had mimicked Kurel for long enough he could do the job, perhaps not exactly the same, but he could make himself worthy of a bastards crown. He knew he could, but what would that all mean? Killian was telling him to breathe. To calm down and neither option brought clarity. That too long considered, noncommittal sound… it was too much. It was nothing and it was still too much. What was he even doing? How did he get this far? All he was ever supposed to do was kill one man and return to the conclave! None of this was supposed to be his life. Everything he had, everything he’d help create suddenly weighed down on him. Even his name, as Killian kept repeating it. It was stolen. All of it, but then, what empire wasn’t? Could he do this? Really do this?

A joke. A nothing. A thoughtful ‘hmmm.’ Yet no king rules forever.

                          Rizzy, the heir to the Pirate King?

It was just too much to fathom.

Rizzy glanced to Killian, Taleyriel just at his side, and pursing his lips as he finished the inward debate. "Hey... C'n, I offer y'two a piece of advice? Somethin an old teacher once told me..."

Vel had been practically seething through her comm about the pair and had made her beliefs know to Kurel in Uldum.

Aranya had seconded the idea. ...repeatedly.

Mavas had looked both annoyed and bored beyond his usual dull outer coating.

They had all relayed the same advice to the Trade Lord. All of them but Rizzy.

“They’re just a pair of idiots with a ship.”

Riz on the other hand knew very well the power of being the fool, if done right. He knew now that all these people (Mavas aside because he doubted that jerk underestimated anyone) underestimated the captain and the ambassador. And on the sandy rooftop, Rizzy had vouched for them.

He saw potential. He saw gain in a lot of ways for both him and them if he could just wise them up in time to save their lives. Sunspire, while he painted it as a lovely little port with bars, and noodles, and a thriving shopping network was also full of cutthroats, killers, the purveyor alone had the gait of an assassin even if Riz had yet to prove it. Yet ‘Star-sex’ veiled their secrets just enough to clearly be secrets they didn’t want people knowing, but not enough to actually keep it that way, but they could learn.

And if they later proved to be a force siding with Sunspire, with Kurel, they would all be stronger for it. If Rizzy proved the first, and potentially only one to see their worth the esteem and trust his former captain already had with him could only improve. Like his teachers before him, he started them with the first lesson of the fool’s subterfuge.

Rizzy cleared his throat, making way for a grand quote. "The facade is only as good as its weakest moment."

And... they didn’t get it.

“F'get the obvious. Free men don' really care bout the obvious, but when y'holdin secrets. Y'weakest moment holdin em, negates the best of moments y'keep em t'the vest. Do y'understand?”

Taleyriel was still lost, but Killian was catching on.

"He means that if we can't do a good job keeping a secret even when our guard's down, we may as well not keep it because you don't know when a secret--"

Not quite there... but progress. Now it was time for the meat of the lesson.

”The word goin round is y'dumb as bricks an ain’t suited for the storm bout t'hit y'sails. I -know- what its like for people t'think less of ya. T'think y'stupid, an I might not be the greatest out there, but I know m'job.” Which, of course his job was to be the greatest out there, but they didn’t need to know that. He glanced around, ears twitching a bit as he double checked they were alone. That Vel hadn’t returned to listen to his plan. "Use that. Shape up. Hide what y'want t'hide an realize: y'weak moments, y'slips, y'failins are gonna negate just what ya sayin ya want."

Killian raised his brow at that and gave a nod. "Good. When people underestimate you, they're not as guarded, I've found."

Breakthrough! ...And then they opened their mouth with a pile of information Rizzy again didn’t want to have in his pocket except when Kurel asked next, it would all be on the table. Every word. Damnit.

He hushed them by poking Killian in the chest. "No. Y'the stupid captain that can't keep his mouth shut... but may manage t'surprise everyone eventually." One part ego stroke, one part frustration, it wasn’t not true.

Fine. Time to really show them. He could offer this one bit for the lesson, besides when he started in Sunspire, his speech hadn’t been set yet, plenty knew it was something he’d picked up along the way. He huffed and straighten up, losing his whole accent instantly. This wasn’t dumb happy Rizzy anymore. "Your facade is only as good as its weakest moment. Trust me if you like, but keep that idea in your head. And do not let pride get in the way or I will be really disappointed."

And then right back to it. “Y’get me?”The light bulbs went off.

Oh they got something alright.

“Why are you giving your enemy advice, then?” Taleyriel had called him out, somewhere in the middle of the conversations.

Killian argued the opposite, “He’s not our enemy.”

"I like y'guys. An yeah, I don' see m'self as y'enemy. I ain't in y'pocket, an I don't work for you, but that doesn't mean seein you succeed wouldn't be a bad thing.” Riz offered, but even he didn’t see he was working them the same way he had been. Lessons pounded into his head that he swore never to force on someone else. No not enemy. He was their teacher.

In the end, they might prefer if he was just their enemy.

Everything in italics have been added by me for clarity and insight, everything else is directly copied from rp with @roewyn​ @leywalker-starsworn​ @zaderick​ @velerodra​ @thebuildingcacophony and @Vicajin. There was also a lot of peanut gallery chatter I did not include to keep the story focused. Indented is from Kurel’s post.

“Anyways… Im goin before it escalates t’crazy.” He told Kurel and Mav

Famous last words Rizzy.

“But she’s right. Its a manageable thing. Should you tame a tiger from Pandaria, part of you will always fear it.” Said Magistrix Demytrya as Rizzy took to appearing from the shadows, standing atop the cart, just inches in front of his sister. It was an interesting choice of words. An interesting choice of creatures, and the shadow of the tiger across his back itched in response.

Rizzy cleared his throat. Conversation continued on top of him and all around, but the monk focused most of his attention on Captain Essex, on the Ambassador, on the Magistrix.

Killian’s ears perked up when he heard Rizzy clearing his throat. His gaze fell on the man and gave a quiet nod in greeting. A smile returned briefly, then his gaze moved back to Ilyea. It was good that he had their eyes, and the monk waited patiently for their attention. Granted he knew quite a bit about what was circling around through his informants, Riz still wanted to give the pair a chance to own up to their end of the bargain, or to at least ask for what he had to offer.

He counted beats. Patient. And then tried once again to gather attention to himself.

“So. I believe.” He started out slowly. “There was some interest in a meetin with Kurel goin on. That interestin’ly enough, the magistrix ain’t got any power t’fullfill.” The monk called out clearly. He licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest in mild irritation. He was almost tempted to let his tattoo roar for him if this did not in effect work.

“Evening, Rizzy.” Taleyreil intoned back.

Rizzy nodded, glad to finally have some amount of attention. “Would y’like to have a talk there Ambassador?”

Killian shifted his weight, scratching the back of his right ankle with his left. His gaze drifted from Taleyriel towards Rizzy, but let the Ambassador speak.

“A talk where?”

“Just away from the distraction of people who are promisin you something they absolutely cannot deliver.” As he pointed at Demytrya to ensure they knew what he was talking about. From Kurel’s mouth to his, there was absolute certainty in the monk’s mind that even given the man’s chance to cool from the clusterfuck she would be unable to make a meeting happen for the two. A meeting that Riz sincerely wanted to help with.

“With all do respect, Rizzy, you have yet to deliver.”

Rizzy raised an eyebrow, “We had a deal an it looks like y’goin round tryin t’no’ pay my reward. Makes the wonder whether you’d pay the reward for the one puttin up the posters either.”

The captain and the ambassador exchanged glances, and as much as Riz would have responded to Ilyea’s comment about the posters he had bigger fish to fry so to speak. Which Taleyriel seemed content to ignore as well.

“I cannot talk to others now?”

“We settled terms, settled location until -you- backed out, and settled on a payment schedule. How is that no’ at least good faith?”

“A failure to disclose the intricacies presented by said location could undermine your good faith. Me speaking to the Magistrix here has not put in jeopardy your reward.” The ambassador countered.

“Except I did disclose said ‘intricacies.’ And payin forward two grand in gold for Kurel’s bail, acceptin a card t’meet Kurel on her turf very much does put in jepoardy my pay.”

Demytrya glanced up at Rizzy, her expression letting him know he wasn’t helping. Her words were clipped as she offered a smile in his direction, “I asked for a show of good faith on the Ambassador’s half. He’s a man that obviously understands that no meeting with anyone of import comes without a price. His is to handle the small…” She paused, calculating how she would put it, especially with Ilyea in presence, “Kerfuffle that Kurel found himself in with the state. I’ve asked him to show that like me, he can make sure such trivial matters are set aside so that business can continue as it should.” Surely she wasn’t speaking of the row as business. Fels bells, she totally was.

That cinched it.The ‘Kerfuffle’ her own subordinate caused, when she turned Kurel in to the guards. An incident of the Magistrix making that she was demanding the Ambassador clean up, the appearance that it was his fault Kurel was there to being with, it was down right rude and bad business. Business he had thus far conducted about as transparently as the monk could, she was adding lies and backdoors to. The monk steeled himself to perhaps make a rare enemy for once. Speaking against a Magistrate was always dangerous. He could bend forever, but Kurel, Killian, Taleyriel would not. Especially two thousand gold poorer. He had Kurel at his back, Vel by his side, the pages of Sunspire in his pocket. It was time for the tiger to speak.

“Magistrix, with all do respect, you had no right making any deal on the Trade Lord’s behalf.”

Killian looked towards Taleyriel, taking a few steps towards him. He leaned in to whisper inaudibly to the rest. He nodded once finished.

Demytrya looked at Rizzy, “You can let me handle that, hmm? Unless you feel you are suited to handle such affairs between the Magistry and Sunspire?”

“I am in fact.” Fuck the magistry. That was the entire point of Sunspire. Freedom from such bureaucratic condescending manipulation. That was what all of this was for. Sunspire and Sunspire’s eternal freedom. It was a discussion that should never, and if Rizzy had anything to say about it, would never be controlled by the Magistry or any other power. They were self governed men.

Killian nodded at Taleyriel again.

“I’m sorry, I must have missed your induction into the magistry. I’ll be sure to get right on such accounts, as I would have welcomed you more formally, had I known.”

Rizzy pulled out the official paperwork of Sunspire from his pocket, “I have all the official paperwork of Sunspire’s trade connections, manifests, and legalities directly from the Purveyor’s office and the Will and Voice of the trade Lord.” He took a breath, that had come out harsher than he wanted, rilling himself up with the state of the port and its freedom, so he tried to clarify. “Sunspire is a free port. We are not, under any condition to work with or within the magistry, ma’am.”

“And I hold the proof In. My. Hand.” Oh please let that be the end of it.

“Indeed, you aren’t. Well then, it would seem my negotiations have been for naught. Forego the 2000 gold crown negotiations I asked of you, Magister. It would seem Rizzy here, has a better deal for you.”

The pair in question kept exchanging glances, and kept quiet.

“I have the -only- deal at present.” He reiterated firmly against the magistrix’s not so subtle snark, but at least she was acquiescing.

“Meet Kurel without such trivial matters being thrust upon you, as Kurel was delighted to pay such a fine.”

Or not. Clearly she was trying to goad Rizzy on the price tag. On the perception of his employer’s disgruntled reaction to the two thousand gold wasted that could have covered his jail fees. He knew better. He knew what Kurel wanted. He had for a long time now. He knew Kurel was the man that would rather blow up his own ships than see a dime from their use if it meant proving a point. Two thousand gold was but a drop in the bucket to what others had already ripped from the Trade Lord by a woman’s manipulating tongue.

You did not threaten his freedom.

“Are you certain, Magistrix?” Taleyrial piped in again finally.

“Sounds like the man blocking my view is the only deal in town Ambassador…” Vel offered and Rizzy gave her a light pat in thanks for the reassurance.

Demytrya looked up at Rizzy at that point, “Are we certain, Rizzy? He was about to see to it that Kurel’s fines be abated. Is that what you would negotiate for Kurel? That he pay the fines and meet with the Ambassador without such trivialities?

“Will Kurel rather he had the fines in lew of… well no strings.

“I suppose that is what it comes down to, Rizzy. You, after all, hold the papers.” She motioned to the papers in his hands.

Good gracious, how many ways could the man tell her she had no idea what she was dealing with before she got the point?

“The fines are none of the Ambassador’s business. How he is involved in Kurel ‘inciting someone to nudity’ I’m not certain. Nor should you be, you and I were both present for his lawless act.” He threatened. She wanted to keep talking? Fine. He would offer publicly her public humiliation and all the details he was aware of if she was not careful.

“Whoa. What?!” The Ambassador seemed to almost jump at.

Rizzy looked to Taleyriel and Killian, “She was trying to get you to pay restitution for something you had nothing to do with. So, you’re welcome.” Hopefully done with the meddling magistrix.

Demytrya laughed softly, “You think the pamphlets had nothing to do with it then? By all means. Tell Kurel your decision then Rizzy. I defer to you.”

Killian looked at Rizzy.

“If you defer to me, madam Magistrix, then shut y’trap? Thank you.”

The phrase in question was apparently such a slight the magistrix would not let it go even days later. Clearly it was the rudest possible things the monk could ever say.

“How do you incite someone to nudity?” Taleyriel asked.

“He paid someone to undress.” Said Riz.

“Oh.”

“He paid someone t’undress specifically to humiliate the magistrix here.”

Demytrya lifted a hand, a cold blast of icy air expanding from a small vortex outside of her palm towards Rizzy, meant to blast him off the cart and on to his ass if he didn’t dodge. She would have a certain amount of impudence, for sure, but his telling her to ‘shut her trap’ that seemed to be a no-no.

Killian frowned, furrowing his brow as he glanced towards the magistrix.

Rizzy had seen the wind up. The ice. The fury growing in the mage and relaxed his muscles ones by one. If this was it, he was going down fighting and making sure Vel would take none of the force of the attack. “That’s the charges he was official paying fin-” Rizzy did not dodge, and was blown all the way back, smacking into the wall hard, the air from his lungs audibly forced out with a hard grunt.

You did not threaten his people.

Killian walked towards Rizzy and held his hand out to the man. No words were said, but he gave him a nod.

Riz let out a hacking cough.

Taleyriel stared blankly into the distance as though he were in the office. Yep.

Demytrya watched as rizzy was thrown, turning to Taleyriel as if she hadn’t just blasted him in the face with 70 mile per hour winds of ice, her smile not entirely meeting her eyes. “Go ahead and go with our agreement. I’ll make sure to tell Kurel that Rizzy here fought on his behalf for you not to honor the agreement we established so Rizzy is not seen as derelict. I’ll also make sure to see to it that if he hurt his poor noggin, it’s handled, hmm?” A single pale brow lofted.

Rizzy took Killian’s hand once he could breathe again, leaning hard on him for just a moment, “Thanks”

Rizzy’s next words were quiet, pressed close to Killian in a whisper. “There is no deal. Kurel is refusing to speak with you two for now because of all this cluster. Whatever she's promising you, don't trust her. I'll work something out in the future. Don't worry about my pay. I just want t'see you two safe an sound. Also... Im gettin rid of the rocks round sunspire. I had no idea how terrible they were."

"Whatever fucking shit's happening, you will get paid. You came forward with information, even though we didn't meet. You deserve at least half for that. This whole thing is bollocks. We should speak in private. I have met Kurel before." The captain mumbled back.

"Anytime. Im here for you guys whenever y'need. Also that Ilyea lady? She's the one that made all the flyers."

"Are you certain about that?"

"Its what Kurel said, an’ the fact that she won't shut up about em lends support t'that."

"Ten thousand pieces of gold, as per my reward. Thank you for that."

Meanwhile Rizzy kept his ear perked for the ambassador and the magistrix still…

“Are you all right?”

“Welcome to the row, Ambassador.”

Taleyriel gave a polite nod. “You have my gratitude,” his attention shifted towards Rizzy and Killian for a moment. The absurdity of having asked the attacker if she was fine had been entirely lost on him.

“Magistrix - to be clear, are you saying you intend to keep the deal you have no authority to make?” Vel asked considering Rizzy was still a bit winded.

“Vic if you hadn’t been sitting there being bored, you’d have known that was your cue to wisk Rizzy away in the shadows.” The magistrix shot the troll a frown.

The troll in question only replied, “I don’t do political assassinations anymore. Messy stuff.”

Wait, what?

Rizzy did a few calculations. Killian at one side, Vel at the other, other friends and informants about the crowd hidden and in view… he was safe, but at the same time. She blatantly offered out loud to have him taken into the shadows and murdered. He would remember that.

“I’m saying the deal I was making was on behalf of a close friend. Not as an agent of Sunspire Port. He can take Sunspire Port’s deal, or mine. I am willing to bet which deal Kurel would find more to his liking. Do you challenge that?”

“Me too.” Vel replied.

“Which is going to make Kurel have more faith in the magister here? Which is going to show the magisters good faith that he in in fact who and what he says he is?” Demytrya would just not stop.

“Ambassador.” Taleyriel corrected.

“Pardon, Ambassador, my apologies. At any rate, the Ambassador here gets an opportunity in my deal.”

Taleyriel gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “No need. It has been a rather energetic night.”

Ilyea pipped in “Demy is a very good friend of Kurel. She will be the best to make sure both are done well. I guarantee it.”

Except Killian knew the truth already. If Taleyriel didn't know yet, he was soon to follow.

“To show that if there is business to be had, he can handle it. He’s got the cops, as it were to make such negotiations and see them through.” the magistrix continued.

Vel shrugged, “I’d not dare challenge an all knowing magistrix… Though, I do know… somewhat - that Kurel doesn’t like deals he isn’t being told he’s a part of… which - unless you’ve manage to tell him… you have no way of knowing… I’d bet on Rizzy’s deal…”

“Oh? So perhaps we put it to the test? We could offer both deals to Kurel.”

Vel just stared at Taleyriel. Then to Demy, “wait - one moment… if we do the test - and he rejects your deal… You owe me something… hm?”

“Sure.”

Riz remained quiet, letting the magistix blow her storm out thinking somehow her icy wind had led her to win. He quietly recalled conversations with Vel and felt more centered despite the physical bruising spreading across his skin. Given a choice, as a free man of Sunspire it was his right to choose; Riz would never be the wind.

Seriously, have you all not figured out reading this by now?

The reed bends in the wind. It does not break. But contracts do.

“Vythaku, can you send a projection of your dragon form to soar over Suramar? I need to pinpoint Taleyriel’s location, and if he can see you, I may be able to find him. This place is a fucking jungle.”

The moment Zaderick left, Vythaku began to worry. It wasn’t like worrying about his roommate; he’d fought at Zay’s side and knew that ultimately the blond could take care of himself - even blind. This was a new worry he hadn’t felt before, something more vague and encompassing: this was worrying about friends. He hadn’t really had friends before.

Thankfully, mortals found it very difficult to read dragon emotions and three toddlers were no match for a lizard face. They never knew of his worry as he let them repaint his claws (they were large enough for some very wobbly stripes) and told them a story about adventurers in the Uldum desert and ancient dragon treasures (it was a heavily edited version of an adventure novel he enjoyed).

When Zaderick’s call came through, luck would have it that he already had his projection roaming along the western coast of Tirisfal, exploring the ley patterns around a curious ring of mushrooms while he listened with half an ear to Allan chasing squealing children around the gazebo. With his consciousness already split, there’d be less disorientation as he arrived in a new place.

Perhaps a mage who’d spent years studying and practicing the creation of Mirror Images could do what Vythaku did, but he didn’t realize it. To him, this was how the spell worked and Aspects help him if he tried to do a simple trio of images at his own side to cast spells with him. His projection slid into netherspace and he flashed into being in a place he was familiar with: Felsoul Hold.

Right. Dragon.

From a peak on the eastern side of the fel-blighted land, a netherdrake rose into the sky in azure glory streaked with nether sparks. The drake soared from that lower west corner of Suramar towards the lower east of the vineyards, high enough in the air that no missiles would reach him. Once he passed over the vineyards, he circled around to fly over the menagerie - then shot straight up into the sky and out of sight. Reports of a strange looking blue dragon from Azurewing Repose circulated for several days after.