Recruitment Efforts

Cold air lays over Alexandria like a heady blanket. Kerbasy is gazing at the clouds overhead. They look as though they could land at any time.

Just like an assassain's knife.

He bears a wad of paperwork beneath an arm, though that's not unusual for a priest, much less a Vardaman. What is though, are the two small, jeweled boxes underneath the other arm.

Boats make their way along the river, fishermen hurrying on their trade, and close of the business day and fall of the sun.

Elessa is hiding... ish... More like she doesn't want to be cooped inside anymore, but doesn't want to be on the rooftops either. So she's under the bridge, which is mostly sheltered from the brunt of the cold, but not realy hiding. Wrapped up in a warm cloak, she watches the boats and fishermen, not doing anything really.

The ear hears, the eye observes...Kerbasy turns around and his eyes light up. For a moment, speculation before the smile is stamped into place, then riveted. The Templeman's armor. He heads that way at a swift pace.

Like a BEELINE.

Elessa is observant as well and notices that a cleric is heading right toward her. She figures that there is something and that a cleric isn't going to try and turn her in to Dran. So she sits and lets her come closer. "Good day to you Mourner."

"Lady's blessin' to you. I heard you've had a time of it. ...do you mind if I have a seat?" Kerbasy asks. And then settles nearby anyhow, his expression as warm as a kitten's bottom. That has a fluffbutt. Elessa rolls her eyes. "A time of it is a fair understatement." There is a sigh. "How can I help you Mourner?"

"Heh, yes. Well, there's a touch of legal trouble, isn't there? ...put anyone in a bad mood, I s'pose." He says, and looks across at her quickly, then down to the river. "I'm sorry I didn't bring anythin' with me. You caught m' in the middle of a delivery, actually."

"Well as far as I understand," Elessa looks at her, "I'm not in legal trouble with the city. So until I can go stab the people behind this, I'll just not go near Dran unless the Guild asks me to."

"Oh, they'll file a suit, mark m' words. ..." Kerbasy takes his lenses off, the geek lenses, and gives her a wan smile. "I wanted to talk with y'before they did. You see, random death looks terrible for everyone. I was hopin' we could help eachother out."

Elessa frowns a bit, looking a bit confused. "I think I fail to understand what you are talking about..."

The Mourner rubs at one of the geeky lenses, his expression troubled. "At th' moment, to them you look like a crack assassain Alexandria--or Rune, an' I think that's a more interestin' story, mind--hired to infiltrate th' enemy an' take out their leadership." Pause. "Damned impressive work."

Perhaps he's a few inches further away. Suddenly.

Scoot. Scoot scoot scoot.

Elessa rolls her eyes and sighs at this. "I didn't do it Mourner. I was in the Vast, with my family, and not near Dran at all. I'm a thief, not an assassin." "...you aren't a crack assassain?" he asks, hesitantly. His features flux, somewhere between disbelief and relief. And thn he rubs at one of his eyes.

Elessa shakes her head, almost with an expression of not wanting to laugh. "I'm being accused of this crime, Mourner. I didn't do. I don't murder people. I may kill those that harm me, my friends or those that get in my way. There is only one person out there that I want to outright murder, but that's because he killed me and betrayed Alexandria."

Elessa sits under the bridge, with Kerbasy next to her talking, wrapped in a warm cloak. She shakes her head, almost with an expression of not wanting to laugh. "I'm being accused of this crime, Mourner. I didn't do. I don't murder people. I may kill those that harm me, my friends or those that get in my way. There is only one person out there that I want to outright murder, but that's because he killed me and betrayed Alexandria."

"...well, that's a relief. Well, I don't need to do th' recruitment speech, then," he says. Kerbasy slaps his thigh, and makes to stand. It's so sad. He'd had a copy of, 'So, You're An Assassain Now' all copied up! Pauses. "...ki--oh! Yes, that. It isn't everyday someone gets to experience th' Lady's Embrace, and then comes back from it." He looks troubled, and leans down to touch Elessa's shoulder briefly. It's one of those gestures, showing he understands.

That he commiserates. I'm sorry about the puppy.

"I'm sorry you had to leave it. Th' Lady is as beautiful as she is fair," he says, and his ears turn a bit pink! Oh, Vardama, with your pale and corpse-like smile. His voice is gentle and kind, the one used to comfort a sick relative. There there. There there. It's okay you had to leave Death. I truly understand, and commiserate. It is truly, truly terrible.

He and Elessa stand just beneath the bridge, and the clouds overhead are heavy, the air cold. Merchants and merchant-craft are making their final runs.

"...So as it turned out," a voice comes from beside the bridge, a cloaked and accompanied Silmeria picking her way down to the river, "it truly was custom in that village to smear the ashes onto the cheeks of everyone at the ceremony. 'So you'll carry a bit of them wherever you go,' it was said to me. Of course I felt terrible for thinking it was some sort of horrible prank the child only wanted me to remember to smile. Carried that mark for almost a week after, didn't even wash my hair for fear I'd ruin it."

Behind her, Aldean picks his own way down beside the bridge, his usual easy and relaxed movements much more stiff and careful than usual, although there's no visible reason why. "Aye, that be a right odd one," he says with a chuckle, his baritone voice carrying this close to the water. "Ain't heared o' such as that afore. S'pose every place has got their own, aye?"

"Recruitment speech? Leave it?" Okay, Elessa really looks confused now. "I'm sorry Mourner, you have completely lost me again. Leave what? What did you come here to talk to me about? You thought I tried to kill this guy, and what? Were you going to try and reform me?" She looks over at the new voices but doesn't really get up or do anything.

Kerbasy tilts his head to the side. "No, just teach you a few prayers," he says, sounding a touch distracted. "Those voices sound familiar, though. ...do they to you?" he asks, all the sudden. He puts down the paper and the two boxes he was carrying, eases them onto the cold grass and stones. "Forgive me. Heh. I need to sort a few things out of my pockets."

He reaches in, and pulls out a shovel. Yes, a shovel. He lays it across the two boxes. "May need that later."

"More than you may think," Silmeria says, a hand peeking out of her cloak to remove her spectacles, and clean the snow off. "Something done in rememberance of one person, is done in remembrance of a few more, and a couple generations later, you've an entire burial ceremony. Each one means just as much to the village in question as any of the Mourners' liturgy, and while it can be a nightmare trying to sort them all out, each one deserves the same respect." Looking up as she resettles her glasses on her nose, she begins to smile wide at the sight of Kerbasy, only to trail off, tilting her head in puzzlement as she tries to place where she knows Elessa's face. "Hello, Mourner?"

"Can't say as I much though of it," Aldean answers, but he doesn't get more out than that before Silmeria's greeting her superior. He folds his arms across his chest with a nod and a flash of a grin at both of the folks standing under the bridge. "Thinkin' we interrupted sommat, lass," he tells Silmeria ... and his eyes go to that shovel.

Elessa still looks confused. "Prayers? Mourner, I don't really follow a particular god, you know that. I honor them, but... it's like the law, it's good and all, but don't see it helping me much." She looks over at the two voices. "Familiar, not so much actually." She then leans forward a bit to take a closer look at Silmeria and Aldean, really eyeing them and whether or not that she might want to leave. "Eve ning!" the geekly priest calls out. He waves to them warmly (especially Aldean), and then looks over to Elessa. He looks awkward for a moment. And then decides not to put his foot in his mouth, further. "Elessa, this is Silmeria and Aldean."

There is a shovel.

"Elessa," the blond Vardaman murmurs, a polite smile on her face. "...I'm sorry I've heard the name before, but I'm having trouble placing it. Anyway, how d'you do?" Reaching out to offer a hand to shake, she looks down at the boxes, and the shovel. "...Mourner? Are we interrupting a burial?"

"Fair winds t'ye," Aldean greets Elessa good-naturedly enough, but he, too, is eyeing those implements. "Ain't seein' no dead, lass," he tells Silmeria, but it's Kerbasy he's watching closely ... and with a raised eyebrow.

Elessa eyes Kerbasy for a moment, then the other two, ignoring the shovel. "A pleasure. And no, we were just talking. I have no idea what the shovel is for to be honest..." Though... where did that shovel go?

"Heh. Not yet," Kerbasy replies. He smiles warmly, and then leans over to pat the two small, carved boxes on the ground. "I was on my way when I ran into--" And then there's a movement, one so quick he almost doesn't catch it. And he gets up and walks over behind one of the rocks.

Produces the shovel again. The shovel, on closer look, has a number of inscriptions. Sacred digging. Holy holes in the earth? "--a thief," he says. "We were just talking about redemption," he says. There are a great many things one could do to react to the theft of sacred property. Yes, even a shovel can be sacred property. But, given that this appears to be the sort of blessed shovel an active Mourner would use to consecrate a grave he's in the midst of digging... Silmeria simply stands, dumbstruck by Elessa's sheer nerve. "Ah," she manages, after the item is retrieved. "....How's that working out, then?"

Considerably less divinely inclined and interpreting the presence of the shovel rather differently, Aldean's flexible features sprout a grin, dark eyes twinkling in amusement. "He'll not need it anyroad, lass. Least not here," he tells Silmeria, eyes still on Kerbasy ... and the shovel.

Elessa smirks at Kerbasy. "Oh I wasn't going to keep it, just was seeing if you were paying attention. Apparently you were. Hey, I'm being accused of murder, and have bounty hunters looking for me, I need to keep my mood up."

Th' shovel belonged to Saint Rarvin...heh. He was a homely priest whose town was overrun by th' unburied at one point. ...would you like to see it?" to Silmeria. He smiles warmly, and returns Aldean's look with a nod of his own. He isn't quite sure what to say to Elessa right now.

Shovel.

Auuuugh.

"I would, Mourner," Silmeria says, bobbing her head and smiling brightly. "D'you know the whole story, then?" About that point, however, Elessa's 'accused of murder' sinks into her head, and she looks up, blinking. "...Oh so that's where I know your name! Okay! ...Wait was he about to enlist you into Temple service? Only, it's actually very good work if you've the skill for it; my duties don't put me into assassination often." The unspoken converation between Kerbasy and Aldean, flying completely past her head.

The grin on Aldean's face fades as the look, and he just shakes his head in disbelief, the grin traded for a smirk and a hint of a snorted laugh. Silmeria's comments, though, draw a raised eyebrow -- so that's her, eh? Leaving the Vardaman to their discussions of holy shovels, he drops his arms and moves stiffly over towards Elessa. "Acused o' murder, eh? Sounds like a tale."

"Wait..." Elessa blinks at Silmeria. "The Temple of Vardama has its own assassins?" Her head snaps around to Kerbasy. "You were trying to recruit me into being some sort of holy assassin or something?" She looks to Aldean and shrugs. "Not really. I was visiting my family in the Vast, and someone seems to be trying to get me out of the way... I came back to the city yesterday and found out I was wanted for it."

Kerbasy passes the shovel over. He holds the bard's gaze as he does. Smile.

Smile warmly.

At a glance, it doesn't look anything other than ordinary. At a glance. ...run a thumb over it though, and a set of inscriptions make their way up the top. They recount the tale--a simple one at that, of one saint who had made the shovel famous by smacking a zombie with it.

And then another zombie.

Kerbasy then looks towards Elessa. "Heh. Well, it's somethin' of a small order. You know...not every Death is th' right one, and--ah. The Dead ask us to look into it on their behalf. Children with--well. Best not talk about th' particulars," he says, and rubs at an eye. "The truth is, we'd been interested, but...I'm afraid th' attempt looked like someone had gotten drunk and gone on a stabbin' spree. So we've, myself and the other Mourners, have been on th' look out to make sure you were sa--doin' alright, given the stress of the situation." ... That aside from a bounty, she's had a concerned group of priests convinced she might be a dangerous, bloodthirsty murder-hobo with a mental break. And might need an intervention.

There is the crackle of electricity in the air before a blue orb of energy appears a couple feet away from everyone on the ground. The orb is about 6 feet in height and big enough to hold 4 or 5 people. Sparks race across the orb before the energy disipates and standing before them is Cesran with his staff. He looks around with his staff held out ready for battle. He spots Elessa and he nods to both her and Kerbasy, "Ah hello." He looks around for any guards and moves over towards them, "So I've heard you gotten in some trouble."

"...Ah, that does make more sense," Silmeria says, nodding wisely as she takes hold of the shovel, running her fingertips over the inscriptions. "It's been a long time since I've held a relic," she murmurs, smiling gently as she passes the shovel back to Kerbasy. "Thank you, Mourner." Inclining her head, she slips over to stand beside Aldean, tilting her head. "Yes... what i--" Whatever she was about to say is cut off as a ball of lightning blooms into place right next to the group. Which point she turns, the barrel of a pistol peeking out from her cloak, putting herself between Cesran and the group, spectacles gleaming harshly in the fading electric light.

Aldean's eyes narrow at the smile, as he listens to the discussion. Slowly, he settles down on a rock beneath the bridge, elbows on knees but a respectful distance from Elessa -- and is about halfway there when the orb appears. Instead, he bolts to his feet, his own hand on a pouch at his waist, eyes on the staff-wielding wizard.

Elessa narrows her eyes at Kerbasy as he tries not to insult her, though it really wasn't even her doing in the first place. "Look, I can kill, and I'm pretty darn good at it, ask anyone from the Guild of Explorers, but I don't go killing for coin. As I said, there's only one person I want to kill and that is because he killed me first. Though true, Vardama did watch over me after that and made sure I returned, but the gods haven't done much for me before or after that. I'm not about to join a religious order when I don't even belong or want to belong to the church." She seems to have more to say, and then the orb shows up, which reveals a Cesran. "Oh... Cesran..."

Well, Kerbasy ducks and rolls...and there's even more dirt in his hair. Dirt, twigs, sticks. A large clump of cold mud sticks to his robes as he looks up in a dazed sort of way.

He is much less graceful.

And sort of stares at Cesran.

And wipes the mud out of his hair.

Cesran gives a tight smile as he focuses on Elessa for the moment, "So it's not true that you killed a guard and tried to assassinate the Grey Gore?" He asks before he looks Silmeria, "Your sentiments are appreciated I'm sure, but I'm not here to hurt Elessa. She is my friend, if she is innocent then I am here to help...if she is guity then I'm here to listen to her reason why before I decide to help her or not."

"..Then perhaps," SIlmeria says, pistol disappearing back beneath her cloak, "a more... subtle... entrance might have been a bit more reassuring? Only, I'm fairly certain anyone who may be looking for Miss Elessa now has something to investigate..."

"Aye, ye just tole half th'blasted city ta 'look over here', mate," Aldean agrees, although his hand eases away from the pouch as well. With a quick glance at Elessa, then at Silmeria, he reaches for the inquisitor's hand. "We best get out of here, lass," he mutters to her, then raises his voice. "Think we'd best be gone, though. Fair winds an' tis a pleasure seein' ye."

"No, Cesran would not hurt me," Elessa admits. "He was one of the first people I met when I first arrived in Alexandria." She looks to Aldean and gives a nod, "A pleasure to have met you. As for where I am, well I was tired of being holed up for the day, and I know good places to hide. Plus I can fight, I'm good at that, even killing if it comes to that."

"Heh. She seems t'be." Kerbasy looks over to where the--oh, thank goddess. He lunges and grasps the shovel hilt. "There you are," he says to it, and ignores the rest of them for the moment. Except Aldean. Except Aldean at -those- words. He raises a brow of his own and watches them exit.

"Well," Silmeria says as she gets tugged back up the incline, "do let the Temple know if there's any way it can help! Good night, Mourner, I'll be ready for the morning's class!" And with that, she allows herself to be led away by the bard, far from the magical disturbance.

Kerbasy watches, sending death glares after Aldean.

"You make sure she's there, bard!" he calls out!

"At a reasonable hour!"

Cesran snorts loudly, "Trust me unless it was an explosion no one is going to notice. Wizards teleport in and out all the time and if they do investigate I'll just make Elessa disappear." Cesran watches the others go before he turns back to Elessa, "So what's up with this situation?"

The only answer Kerbasy gets from Aldean is a raised hand of acknowledgement as the pair walk off down the riverbank.

"Don't you dare Cesran," Elessa glared at him. "As I said, I can handle myself." But she sighs and sits down on the rock again. "I didn't do it, someone is framing me. I was in the Vast when this happened, with my family. Tatyannah was screwing with Grey Gore, it may be part of that but she didn't seem sure."

"Heh," the Mourner replies. He watches the pair until they vanish, with a certain intensity. ...and then grips the haft of the shovel, and lifts himself up. He scowls a while longer, before turning back around. ...the smile riveted in place again.

Blessed be the kittens, that smile says. Blessed be rainbows, blessed be the tiny doggy farts that look like rainbows. They really do teach you that in Priest School.

Cesran nods, "There are multiple spells that could easily make someone else look like you." He shakes his head, "I wouldn't without your blessing and of course you can I'm just saying it'd be easier with my magical help if you want it."

Elessa shrugs a bit and continues to sit. "Let me see how I can do on my own before I start looking for magical help, if you don't mind. If I need help, I will come and see you, I promise. Thank you Svarshan." She looks over to Kerbasy. "Okay, I give up. What are you doing with the shovel and what's inside the boxes?"

"Heh. Oh," he's still watching the hillside. "A young girl lost her gerbils th' other day. I'm doin' a service." Kerbasy turns back around, and then leans over to scoop up the carved boxes. "She was attached to them, heh. Though, now I'm out to find some attendees. ...so she isn't there alone." The Mourner pauses, and then his smile grows as he notices the two of them.

Cesran nods, "Well I would suggest you find a way to protect yourself from scrying. That is how I was able to find you. Admittedly I know you well so it's easier for me to scry on you, but if they have something your own or a part of you, it can be done." He looks over at Kerbasy and nods, "If she has no one else to attend."

Elessa rolls her eyes at Kerbasy. "Fine, fine. As long as you aren't trying to convert me or anything. I'm not a Vardarman... still not sure about this assassin thing either." She gets up and brushes off her cloak. "Well, if you could find me, know of any ways to keep others from doing it with magic?"

The sky is filled with soft, rolling puppies. A kitten who gently mewls upwards. "Heh. I will try. ...I'm sure th' young lady will appreciate it. I'm forever glad y'didn't snatch th' boxes, though," Kerbasy says. The dead gerbils.

The...

Oh, god.

Cesran hmms, 'Well there is a spell of nondectection, but that only lasts about half a day, well 14 hours to be percise. There is Mind Blank which lasts a whole day, but as of yet it is beyond my capacity to cast. There is also mage's private sanctum, that can ward a whole area from scrying for 24 hours or if you have enough gold I can do it permanently. THere is spell immunity which Kerbasy here could cast, but that only lasts an hour or two hours, at most three from a powerful cleric. There is also a magical item, amulet of proof against detection and location...I can make it, but it will take over a month and is rather expensive." He rattles off before he bows his head.

Elessa doesn't like any of her options as Cesran lays them out for her. "I don't have a terrible amount right now since I haven't been doing too many jobs for the Guild... I'll just try laying low and keeping on the move, and hope they don't think of doing magic too much. If something comes up, I will ask Cesran, I promise." She smiles as she waits for Kerbasy to gather his things together.

The kitten farts rainbows. Kerbasy gathers the boxes and...the shovel vanishes into his pocket, which he buttons shut. He's pulled cookies out of there. Tins of food, cupcakes. Chicken legs. He smiles at them warmly. "Whenever you're ready. I'll see to m'prayers until then," he says.

Cesran nods, "Well as long as no one has anything that's personal to you or doesn't know you very well they will have a hard time of scrying on you so you should be safe. Can you think of anyone that would want to frame you?" He asks and he nods to Kerbasy, "I'm ready."

Elessa shakes her head at Cesran. "No... I don't..." she frowns a bit. "Ready when you are Mourner."

Kerbasy smiles at them both, and then heads into the city. There's a FUNeral ahead!

Cesran looks over at Elessa, "Are you sure...no disguise? I have a hat that could make you look like a gnome."

Elessa waves her hand at Cesran. "I'm not terribly worried. But thank you though."