Gale's Inquiry

The intervening time between Gale's rescue and this moment have not been overly kind to Gale. At least that's what one might think looking at him sitting in the bar. He's wearing the exact same clothes that he had that day. However they're much more wash-worn than they'd been before, and he's drinking in an establishment far more... lowly than the kind he's used to frequenting.

Still he's playing at dice with three other men and clearly winning. Which means he's in a good mood, flirting with the waitress whom is doing her best to ignore him, and verbally jousting with the other men at the table as he wins their coins. They too seem to be in a good mood, either because of the drinks close at hand, or the fact that though he's winning, it's not by an unfair margin.

The door opens easily, the late day heat washing in for a moment before a slender form steps inside. The half-elf's garments are muted, but there's no denying their fine cut. The colors are just a little more subdued, cream tunic over dark trousers tucked into his boots, and a broad brimmed hat on his head.

But anyone who looks into the half-elf's eyes might decide messing with him is a losing proposition. There's a hard focus in that starry gaze, and the way he moves is cool, purposeful. Some things can't be hidden easily, and one of them is Telamon's intense personality, as he walks over to watch the game from an appropriate distance... measuring the players.

GAME: Telamon rolls detectBS: aliased to sense motive: (11)+25: 36

A certain redheaded woman enters the bar, a cloak of dark brown over her form that hides her armor and her station a little more than it would otherwise. She eyes the waitress that's getting flirted with by Gale and mouths a little "I'm sorry" before she goes up to right behind Gale.

"Hey," she says, before she goes and joins him more fully at the table. Andelena Donnelly stares her brother down, their resemblance entirely in the face since their hair colors and eye colors are different. "Can we talk, Gale? Or does that suddenly require a dick now, too?"

Bringing up the rear is a taller and stockier figure than the first, and shorter than the second, dressed for the oppressive Alexandrian heat in an open-collar shirt, brown, unbleached trousers, and well-worn boots. His longsword is strapped to his hip, but he has eschewed armor, and it is peacebound, suggesting disinterest in trouble. Dolan wears, not the amber eye that Gale has seen before, but one made of a cut black garnet, within a similar setting and no less impressive to look at. He takes up a chair at the next table over, not far from Telamon, turning it around and seating himself backwards in it, straddling the chair and resting arms across the back.

Gale looks up from his game to look at his sister with disinterest. "I've nothing to say to you Andelena." He says rudely.

The other men at the table whistle at her as she approaches and takes her position. "Nice girl Gale! Why didn't you tell us about this fiery one?" One of the men asks.

"She's my sister Dirk." Gale replies and rolls his eyes.

"Damn fine sister you've got. Mind if I take her for a ride?" Another man suggests, grinning at his friends who laugh at the joke.

"Considering her taste in men she might just take you up on that Maco." Gale says waving a hand. "Can we get back to the game?"

A soft snort comes from Telamon at the fellow's crude sally. He doesn't bother offering a rejoinder though, leaving that up to Andie and Dolan. "Is this what the heir apparent to the Calogref family has lowered himself to? Drinking in this kind of establishment, with men who are going to skin him as soon as he's had a couple cups and is feeling overconfident?"

His starry eyes fix on the other players. "Don't bother denying it. Although I admit I'd be tempted as well. What can I say? My wife loves shoes." His lips curl in a faint smile. "What's the game, anyways? Whist?"

Andelena rolls her eyes, too, but it's at both the men and at Gale. "I wouldn't feel a damn thing if you tried to ride, judging by the company you keep and the way you think you get to talk to a woman," she informs the man identified as Maco, before she turns her gaze onto Gale.

"Look, I'm not exactly fucking thrilled about this either, but we need to talk." Andelena sighs. "Bry'll explain."

"She never met a real man before she went to the temple, Gale," Dolan puts in, his hand clenching on the back of his chair, even though he keeps his tone light and jocular. "She sure as fuck wasn't raised with any. But never mind that." He waves a hand, and settles the hand, looking at the other two men. "This has got to do with the business of the church of the Sunlord. Soon as we're done, we'll let you go back to your game, yeah?"

"Goes like this." He turns his attention back to Gale. "That girl they had you ensorcelled to fancy. She's half-fiend, and we need to find her, for your family's and everyone else's safety." His tone has turned hard, and serious. "We need your help."

Gale glares at Telamon. "I might have thanked you ser, for your help, but as you left me without coin or means to return home; this is where I have found myself." He seems to be a little... displeased with this fact.

"Maybe it's time we left aye boys? No need to stand around and be insulted." Dirk says, leading the other men in a mass exodus of the table. Gale carefully gathers up his winnings, but looks displeased to lose the opportunity to win more.

"I told you Andelena. I've got nothing to say. You sound like a damned sailor for crying out loud. Have you forgotten everything about being a lady?" Gale looks at his sister in disgust. "You're a two-bit warrior. Scarring your face so that no real man would want you. Walking around like *you* have a dick."

His eyes flash over to Dolan and he sneers at the inquisitor. "All that is *your* concern. Not mine. I never loved that woman, and I have no memory of being ensorcelled. So as far as I'm concerned it never happened." He glares at Dolan and rises from the table. "Take your... Woman if that's what you call her and go."

Telamon shrugs lightly at the men with a bland smile, before taking one of the newly-vacated seats. Removing his hat, and setting it on the table next to them. "Gale, I am not your mother -- which you should be thankful for, considering she is implicated in crimes against state and temple. Do you need a basic reminder in how lines of credit work?" The half-sil is clearly unimpressed with Galon's vitriol.

"But, we didn't come here to play silly dominance games, Galon. We know you didn't love her -- hells, you were enchanted against your will. I've had that experience, if briefly." His starry eyes regard the dissolute nobleman. "But we -do- need to find Rida. If nothing else, consider it revenge against her for being enthralled."

GAME: Telamon rolls detectBS: aliased to sense motive: (18)+25: 43
GAME: Dolan rolls sense motive: (4)+21: 25

"Sorry your conception of a woman's boiled down to tits, holes, and pretty enough words to soothe your pea-sized ego, Gale, but like Starman here says, we got actual shit to talk about, not the size of my nonexistent dick," Andelena says, although it's clear that she's not happy with everything Gale's saying to her. "Do you want us to do something about the reason you're here and not playing grab-ass with the ladies back home or do you want to keep being half as impotent as your insults?"

She looks at Brydion and Telamon for some insight then.

Dolan just stares at Galon for a long, long moment, ignoring the vitriol, and suddenly, he softens. "Real men can admit when they've been had, Galon. Takes a strong man to have the guts to admit they aren't perfect. Now, if you'd like to find out what a real man can do, by all means, keep insulting my wife."

He turns his attention to the other two, the inquisitor's harlequin stare in full force at them both. "Get out if you don't want to get tied up with this. Don't worry about your tab. I'll get it."

He pays them no further mind, turning instead back to Gale. "The weakest man is the one who can't admit he's been had."

GAME: Dolan rolls intimidate+1: (16)+21+1: 38

"There's no need of revenge, because nothing happened." Gale says to Telamon. Gathering up his stuff and rising from his own seat. Then Andelena starts talking and his eyes narrow on her considerably. Dolan's words only make it worse and Gale does the only thing that he can come up with to shut them *both* up. He hits Andelena. More specifically, he slaps her across the face as hard as he can. "Mother should have had you beaten to teach you a little sense."

His words fall into the echo of the sound of his strike, and his eyes dare either Andelena or Dolan to do anything about his action.

GAME: Telamon casts Telekinesis. Caster Level: 18 DC: 23
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+sorcerer+8: (1)+18+8: 27 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+sorcerer+8: (15)+18+8: 41

Telamon had a very congenial, even sympathetic expression on his face at Gale's frustrated rejoinders, though he's mentally wincing at how this discussion seems to be unraveling--

--and then Gale slaps Andelena.

The congenial expression falls off Telamon's face, leaving something absolutely terrifying, his countenance blank, his eyes filled with blue light. "Dimma sa, irhandi namsita!" he snarls, clenching his fist -- and suddenly Gale is rudely yanked off his feet, and slammed into the ceiling, spread eagled so that he's facing down at the angry sorcerer.

"Do you think this is some kind of stupid game, Galon Calogref?" Telamon's voice has taken on an ominous reverb, throbbing with power. "I do not have the -time- to bandy words with some dissolute, useless nobleman who will most likely die of excess before he is fifty! You have no idea of the stakes we face, the perils that await!" The half-sil has risen to his feet, his hair drifting around his head as he snarls at Gale.

Adrenaline is one hell of a thing. She doesn't feel the sting of the hand that slaps her, but she _does_ feel a fury like all the Hells boiling in a tiny pot inside of her.

"Okay. Neat. We're doing this. Pucker up your asshole, Gale, you're about to get a second hole up there where it doesn't fucking shine."

Andelena grins then. She doesn't go for her weapon, doesn't dare draw it. "But I've had my fair share of beating your ass over the years. Brydion?"

Dolan, who had bolted to his feet when Gale struck Andelena, both sides of his features a twisted mask of shock fury, kicks the chair aside, letting it fall sideways to the floor with a clatter, and at once, his hand goes for his blade. With one sharp motion, he snaps the cord binding his blade to its sheath and wrenches it free of its scabbard, revealing that the cord was a false peaceknot.

"Drop him, Tel, and let him draw his sword to defend himself. This ass-beating's mine, and I don't give a fuck if it's live steel."

"You coward! You knave! To use magic against me! You've no honor!" Galon is spitting with fury that barely covers his fear of what Telamon has done to him. He can't move an inch, but he's clinging to his rage hard to cover his terror. "Let me down this instant! If it is a duel you want, a duel you shall have!" It's uncertain if he's talking to Dolan or to Telamon at this point.

GAME: Telamon rolls glare: aliased to Intimidate: (17)+30: 47

Ice forms in geometric patterns around Telamon's boots, as he stares up at Galon with contempt radiating from him. "No." he says, his voice full of the same chill. Hard to say if he's responding to Gale, or Dolan at this point. "Duels are for gentlemen. You, Gale, are no gentleman."

Tel's eyes flare with distant starlight. "Before you scream and insult me, should you not know who you face?" His lips curl upwards in a hard smile. "I am the Lord Archmage Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon. I do not fear you any more than I would fear a gnat. I would prefer you cooperate... but I do not require it."

Normally, Andelena would object to a man using titles like Lord and Archmage, but if there's anyone who could possibly have earned them in her eyes... Well, at least the archmage one, it's Telamon.

"Can you let my brother down so that Brydion can give him the thrashing of a lifetime, Starman?" she asks. "Or, y'know. Lord Archmage Starman."

She is grinning just a little, her eyes bright at Dolan. This is just one of many reasons why she married him.

"Stop bleating, Gale. The only coward in this room is pinned to the ceiling about now," Dolan snarls, his deepened voice like a whipcrack. "Takes a real man to strike his sister, yeah? You wouldn't know honor if it walked up and fucked you in the ass." The longsword remains in his hand. "No, _Archmage_." He leans into the word. "Don't you worry about me. If you think I'm going to stand here and not do anything when a churl slaps my wife, you're sadly mistaken. Drop him, please."

GAME: Dolan rolls intimidate: (4)+21: 25

Telamon's mien actually shuts Galon up for a moment. The man quivers, but the title that Telamon gives, incites him into fury once again. "Some lord you are! Hanging a man from a ceiling rather than face him like a man. That gargoyle beside you has a pittance more honor. Let me down I say!" He ignores Dolan's statement nearly entirely. "You and that sow you call a wife deserve each other. I bet she does the _fucking_ between you."

Telamon shows his teeth in an expression that would never be mistaken for a smile. In fact, his wife would recognize that look quite well -- it's a passable emulation of the terrifying smile that her grandfather, the Feathered One, uses on occasion when he is not happy.

"As you will it, Dolan. He seems quite self-destructive." A smooth gesture, and Galon is jerked away from the ceiling, reoriented so that his feet are now downward-facing again, and pulled back down -- ungently set on his feet again before the spell releases the man. "But if he raises a hand against me, I will kill him."

"Hey, I've been upgraded to a sow. You've called me, what, 'the backside of a diseased horse' before, when I was nine years old?" Andelena remembers, all right. She would take him out, could take him out--but Dolan's got his own pound of flesh to take from the man.

She just steps aside and looks to Dolan. "Bry, baby, knock his fucking teeth out." Her voice is low and dangerous.

The weapon belt and its scabbard drop to the floor of that tavern with a near-silent *plop*, lost in the stalking footfalls of boots. Steel flashes in Dolan’s hand as he steps towards the creature Andelena might once have called a brother. "And you're _still_. _TALKING_." The words come out in a snarl. "I've had enough of your sniveling, you disrespectful little sack of shit. Draw your sword, and defend your tongue, before I cut it out."

He levels the naked blade at Gale, weight balanced between balls and heels of his feet. It might look like bravado, but a warrior can read that stance. Dolan's not playing, and he's no stranger to the blade.

Gale draws his own blade. His eyes flashing with rage. "Fine then. Come at me Brydion. I will show you what a real man looks like in a fight." His blade is a finer thing than Dolan's but no less dangerous for that, and like Dolan he is carefully balanced on the balls of his feet. He too is no stranger to the blade either, but his stance is a little less perfect perhaps than Dolan's.

Andelena stands off to the side, staring at Gale and shaking her head. "He has no fucking idea what's coming to him," she mutters, a smirk coming to her face.

She looks to Dolan. "Get him, baby!" she hollers, nothing if not a supportive wife.

GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+1+2: (16)+13+1+2: 32
GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+1+2-5: (16)+13+1+2+-5: 27
GAME: Dolan rolls 1d8+4: (2)+4: 6
GAME: Dolan rolls 1d8+4: (6)+4: 10
GAME: Telamon casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 18 DC: 18
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+13: (15)+13: 28
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+8: (20)+8: 28
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+8: (7)+8: 15
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d8+5: (4)+5: 9
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d8+5: (1)+5: 6
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d8+5: (5)+5: 10

Fast as a striking snake, and with as much mercy, Dolan doesh't answer Andelena. The steel lashes once, twice, in a rough and ready offense that better befits a war than a duel. Blood flies, and it isn't long before the blade is stained crimson.

Telamon murmurs a brief word, touching his fingertips together as he stares at Gale. Then his expression shifts to Dolan again. "I think Gale has enjoyed enough forebearance today, Dolan. By all means... disabuse him of his delusions of grandeur." The ice is still in his voice, but it's not directed at Dolan, and it's clear that this has to be resolved one way or another.

Gale is just as focused at the moment, his own blade lashing out and catching Dolan twice. The first cut isn't very deep, but Gale takes full advantage of the cut to punch Dolan in the face; cracking his nose open deeply. There's a dangerous light in Gale's eyes that says that he's not playing around, and his fist and hilt come back covered in blood.

There's a rage in Andelena's eyes as she sees her older brother going to punch her man. "Oh fuck _off!_" she yells. "Bry, don't play nice with this fucker, give him everything you've got and then some, baby!"

GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+1+2: (10)+13+1+2: 26
GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+1+2-5-3: (20)+13+1+2+-5+-3: 28 (THREAT)
GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+1+2-5-3: (1)+13+1+2+-5+-3: 9 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+1+2-5-3: (15)+13+1+2+-5+-3: 23
GAME: Dolan rolls 1d8+4+6: (1)+4+6: 11
GAME: Dolan rolls 2+2d6: 2+(3): 5
GAME: Dolan rolls 1d8+4+6+2+2+1d8+4+6+2d6: (3)+4+6+2+2+(1)+4+6+(7): 35

The searing pain and _crack_ across his nose sends Dolan's vision swimming, but it cools his head, in an instant, with the force of a falling rock. Instead of cooling, though, his stance subtly shifts again, in a way that his companions will immediately spot. This is no duel now - suddenly, this is the man who squares off against demons. Who dares not give quarter, if he is to survive. "Daeus' justice be your bane, you arrogant fool." The words are dark and with an edge. Not an ounce of rage. A low and dangerous thing.

Again, the bloodstained blade lashes out, in a move that no salle teaches. He's staggered back from the blow, but now lunges forward, striking in reverse, leaving what would seem to be an opening-

-and then swiftly closes it, in a reversal that opens the hapless Gale up from shoulder to hip before anyone can move, deep enough to kill in minutes, if he is not seen to. Blood _sprays_ across the tavern, across the table where a card game has rested moments earlier.

This is the difference between a duelist and a warrior.

Telamon didn't exactly see it coming, but the difference between 'I fight because I'm a dandy' and 'I fight because something is trying to eat my face' is well known to him. There's a similar concept in the study of magic, after all. And so when Dolan reels back, only to uncoil again like a striking serpent, Tel can't help but flinch a bit.

But only a little bit. And as the waitress and bartender stare in shock and horror, Tel coughs, fishes in his haversack, and pulls out a bag of coins which he drops onto the bar in front of them. "Sorry about the mess," he offers with a charming smile.

A noise leaves Andelena that's somewhere between a sigh of relief and a laugh, seeing Dolan transform from the raging husband to the inquisitor of Daeus that he is. A man that she is, in fact, proud of beyond belief--because he's survived, and he's stayed by her side and she's stayed by his this entire time.

And she looks at her brother. "You get what you deserve," she says, going to pick up her brother and deliver the healing that he needs to save his life. "And sometimes you get what you need, too. I hope you learned your fucking lesson."

Because sometimes, you need to go to the school of hard knocks to learn it the hard way.

Dolan's blade lowers, and he _stares_ in mingle shock and fury at what he's done, through the haze of blurred vision that a broken nose leaves behind. He, too, is bleeding, and his face looks a sight, his head hanging. "Damn it. Tell me I didn't kill him, baby." He rubs a bloody hand over his eyes, but it only leaves more blood all over his face. "I can't see shit."

In the end, though, he's easy enough to console, with the reminder that Gale's mouth started it. After all, play stupid games, win stupid prizes. A little cleanup, a little apology, and while neither are likely to be welcomed back, it's not the sort of place that Dolan would normally frequent anyway. And in the end, one can hope that the lesson is not lost on their quarry - and that it might sink in enough to get him to talk.

-End