~~~IC~~~

::In what seems like only moments, Tyrone is standing in a wide path through the spotlit gardens, a tight dueling shirt hugging his prettyboy muscles while the shimmer of his shield catches the light... An stands nearby, divested of cloak and armed with only a sword::

((You wanted to go with Saber, right?))

((Right.))

((Okay, your base weapon damage is 7 with your strength))

::Against the warm night and the respectful... or resentful?... murmur of Hazat watching an honor duel, the two of you move along the paths of the garden, circling for advantage for nearly a minute, before Tyrone seizes the initiative::

((Tyrone rolls 2 VPs and 6 damage, An Ripostes and blocks 7; An's Riposte attack has 2 VPs and 7 damage, Tyrone Parries and blocks 8))

::And with a swinging slash, Tyrone's rapier thunks against An's saber. His guard seemingly down, An turns it into a riposte, but Tyrone deftly turns and lets the return slash slide off his own blade::

Almost, but not good enough, you jumped up peasant.

If only your footwork was a quick as your tongue.

I'll show you footwork!

::Tyrone swings in, seeming to trade defense for pure offense::

((Tyrone makes a double Compound attack, getting two sets of 3 VPs (4 and 6 damage), An Ripostes both with 6 and 7 block; An's Riposte attacks for one that deals 6 damage after spending a Wyrid (and triggers Tyrone's shield) and another which misses completely))

::Tyrone's unguarded assault meets with An's sword flashing in all directions. The two strikes are effortlessly turned back on Tyrone, but one slams too hard into his shield while the other goes wide::

Sufficient for a general melee, perhaps, but an ogre has no place on the dueling field.

Then you'd like to retire I take it?

((Had to resist turning that into a "Your Mom" joke))

No, if I am anything it is a shantor, running in hard and fast. Like now!

::Tyrone moves to claim the double compound attack he made before::

((Tyrone makes a Slash with +4 from two compound attacks, getting 8 VPs, An splits action to Parry and Pierce. Tyrone's damage is 9, of which An parries 5, and then his armor takes an additional 3, pushing through a wound of 1. An's Pierce scores 1 VP and 5 damage, exactly enough to trigger Tyrone's shield again.))

::Tyrone swings a massive overhead strike that An manages to deflect just enough to slow so that it grazes into his shoulder... tearing his shirt but only bruising his arm. An then directs a blow through Tyrone's open guard, but puts just enough power on it to flash the Hazat's shield::

::meanwhile...::

::the hacienda is sort of eerie and post-apocalyptic... except instead of a large family of Castenda being vaporized from their evening meal, they simply went to watch a duel... nonetheless, tasty-looking plates sit half-finished on a long table::

(("Of COURSE you can have vanilla ice-cream with whipped cream and sprinkles for dinner every night! We just REALLY need that dossier."))

::racks his brain to remember the layout of the place as best he can. Also nabs a ghrape off the table for munching.::

::the maps you got from Julian lead you towards the back of the house and downstairs... which is uncommon for haciendas, but it is a secret dungeon::

Tsk! ::disapprovingly:: Shoulda gotten a meal before we came out. ::nabs a plum::

Aye. I never remember to eat before these kidnapping ops, yanno? ::heads towards the Secret Dungeon::

::puts on his professional "I'll be your interrogator today" face::

::the stairs lead down three flights, quickly changing from the standard whitewashed interior stucco to smooth-sanded stone from the bluffs themselves... it starts to get a bit cold::

::rubs his ppper arms distractedly:: Oh, don't look so sour, Deacon. Habit or not.

::scowls at the stonework anyways:: It's just unperfessional. If you are going to interrogate a man, you need to keep the cells warm. Hypothermia doesn't do anyone any favors.

::at the bottom of the stairs, you come to a reasonably thick door set into a small inset of stuccoed wall::

::knocks on the door briskly, but politely::

::after a minute there's the sound of a deadbolt retracting, then a mildly surprised looking Sutekhese householder is staring up at you, hands away from his gun::

::the rooms behind him seem warm and well lit with fuzion lanterns::

Hello. I'm here to work on the prisoner this evening.

Who are you? And what do you mean work on the prisoner?

::tries to decide if it's plausible to nimble on past the guard, especially if there're no more guards beyond::

My name is Trask, and I've been commisioned from Pyre to work on Mr. ((insert correct name here)). I assume the head interrogator is availible?

((Calvo))

((Martel, Extrovert + Knavery, Lan, Dex + Sneak))

((Lan rolles 3 and 14, Martel rolls 20 and 18))

((that, friends, is a botch))

((so full of fail tonight))

((If you didn't persist in the plan that requires you to lie, I wouldn't have to make you roll to show how bad Martel is at it))

(( :)))

((I remembered I had a "no lying" plan right after I started with the lying, unfortunately.))

::Lan isn't sure he could get past the guard, but he might be able to get the guard's gun while he's putting on the biggest look of disbelief at Martel's awful lie::

((Lan rolls 5 and 4 to nab the gun))

::and with a little difficulty, Lan manages to snag the gun right as the guard is about to yell for help::

((hand it to Martel, who is much better with guns than lies?))

See? This is why I didn't try to lie to the Archbishop. I'm no good at the talking. ::decks the guard::

::pauses half a second to look dubious about handling a firearm, then hands it to Martel::

((would you like to revise to holding him up with his own gun... Martel, also not that great at decking guards))

((I'm also not really sure how one would go about knocking people out in this system))

((sure)) ::accepts the gun graciously:: Now, I really am here to see Mr. Calvo. If you would direct us please?

Oh, and if we run into any of your coworkers, just tell them you'll cover for them so they can go upstairs to see the duel.

::closes his mouth really quickly, looks chagrined, and precedes the skilled gunslinger into the room::

::meanwhile...::

Obviously, you are too much of an oaf to even worry about. So take this!

::Tyrone unleashes a series of blows, trying to end the fight now::

((Tyrone makes a triple Thrust attack, getting 2, 2, and 1 VPs and dealing 3, 2, and 6 damage. An uses Wall of steel to Parry 7, 6, and 9 damage.))

::Tyrone's flashing rapier clangs dully off of An's saber as it traces a lazy arc through the air, conserving energy::

A brilliant defensive game, but you will slip soon. You are too slow.

I prefer careful, wouldn't want to get tired, exerting all of my energy, would I?

Those of us that are in shape, have no difficulty. Perhaps when you get tired, I can let you take a break?

::Tyrone, perhaps to prove that he is in shape, launches another volley of attacks::

((Tyrone makes a triple Compound attack, getting two hits of 2 VPs each. An Ripostes both and prepares a Flat of Blade attack. Tyrone's damage of 8 and 5 are met exactly by An's Ripostes. One Riposte attack misses, but the other hits due to An's Wyrd expenditure. The Flat of Blade hits as well. An drops VPs from both attacks to roll base damage, getting 6 and 2. The one flashes his shield again, and the other is absorbed by his armor.))

::Tyrone's second barrage of attacks skips, again, off An's steel. One riposte goes wide, the second flashes off of Tyrone's shield, and the third, a negligent tap, doesn't get through his shirt::

((isn't slappin someone with the flat of your sword supposed to be insulting?))

((yep))

How dare you!?!?

::chuckles and flicks the blade up and to the side in a mocking salute::

::Tyrone winds up for a mighty slash from his compound attack::

((Tyrone makes a single Slash at +6 from his Compound attacks and spends Wyrd to Accent high. He crits for 24 VPs and 30 dice of damage. Things are tense, and 17 damage gets through. An spends Wyrd to Accent high on a Riposte, rolls high and, on reflection, spends another Wyrd to make the roll a crit. He rolls 18 armor to block. He then Ripostes and crits naturally, ultimately dealing 11 damage which flashes Tyrone's shield and the last point is absorbed by his armor.))

::Tyrone's brutal overhand slash moves with a speed and force that clearly should have cut An in half. Was meant to have cut An in half, even through a shield... and somehow An's sword is there to intercept, turn the slash harmlessly into the ground, and followup with a slash of his own that chops all the way through a flaring shield and nearly draws blood::

::and with the exertion, An seems to be moving even more easily, warmed up from the fight::

((all of your Dexterity + Melee rolls are now at +3))

((Woot Shenany))

::but meanwhile...::

::follows along behind the more expert gun weilder::

::the guard leads Martel and Lan across a well-appointed suite of rooms, made depressing only for their lack of windows. There are no other guards, but there is a gray old man reading a novel::

::clears throat:: Sorry to bother you sir. Might we have a few moments of your time?

Hmmmm? ::adjusts his spectacles:: Armed young men, now, holding others at gunpoint? I trust there's good reason?

::bland smile:: Begging your pardon, sir, only one of us. I'm doctor Lan Maningzhoue, and this is Deacon Martel Azo.

For physical threats? Rarely, but desperate times, and all that. ::nods to the guard:: please, have a seat over at the far end of the room.

::the guard nods and moves to a chair, sitting and keeping his hands in view::

::winces inwardly... maybe the title isn't right to use anymore.::

::lowers the firearm::

Nereo Calvo. What can I do for you?

Well, that is the thing isn't it. We're here to try to make public the last wishes of your former master, and obtain information that would help the wellbeing of a young lady named Maria.

Oh?

We'd hoped we might ingratiate ourselves to you somehow, and perhaps you would consider helping us find a certain document.

There's been a lot of that going around lately, though, I admit, you're the most colorful of the inquests.

::grins:: We've the least time to make a good impression.

Well, besides the Marquesa, who asked me very nicely

::quirks an uneven smile:: I'm sure. Sir, if you had your choice of masters and residences, would it be otherwise than it is now?

I have in mind, mostly, residences. ::looks around::

Are you proposing to abduct me from my "benefactors?" How shocking. What do you propose?

::the guard, though suitable chastened, does appear to be listening intently to this exchange::

::leans forward and whispers so the guard cannot hear:: We work on behalf of Dona Maria Fe Eduardo de Aragon of the Hazat. She wishes your freedom, and the restoration of her house.

::shrugs, nods::

::quietly:: If true, that would certainly be a motivation. Though my last news had her under the same thumb as I.

::also quietly:: She's being freed by a recently knighted Anhitep Griffen, even as we speak. Thus the scarcity of our time.

Well, jolly good. I don't think you're lying, because you seem like a terrible liar. And, even if you're mistaken, I don't think my situation could get too much worse. Please. Tie up the ruffian while I pack. I assume you have an exit?

Ah, you would be correct. I am a terrible liar, and we have an exit prepared!

::takes out a suitable dose of a ketamine/other concoction that at least ideally induces stupor and a few days worth of prior amnesia::

How are you with heights, by the way?

::chuckles:: All these are true, including my friend's incapacity for lying.

::tears up some drapery for to make with the guard tying::

::Martel motions as if the guard will be tied up, then Lan injects him in the arm. He slumps over momentarily.::

::tossing medicines, keepsakes, and clothes into a small suitcase:: Heights?

::mostly just wraps the cloth several times around his wrists and ankles::

::to the guard:: Don't worry, sir, this is no poison. Just 2-halogenated benzodiazeprene. Which if you can remember that much tomorrow, I will have miscalculated the dosage. ::injects::

Yes. Due to the commotion on the front lawn, and the breif nature of our visit, we will be making a scenic withdrawel from the premises.

Thrilling.

Indeed!

I have a smaller dosage of this for you as well sir, if you *are* uncomfortable with heights. Or perhaps you ... yes, prefer the thrill of adventure?

::Lan is able to eyeball the butler and, perhaps take a few brief measurements if desired, coming to the conclusion that he's probably not in too much danger of a heart attack::

Might I take a suitcase for you sir? ::helps prepare to exit towards the roof::

No, indeed, unless we're doing something truly insane. ::hands over the suitcase::

You've hang-glided I imagine? ::conversationally::

Oh I'm sure that might not be the case all the time at all.

Hang gliding? Splended. No. I've never done. Never thought I'd get to. Is it safe?

Oh certainly sir! In fact, you'll actually be flying tandem with the special person I mentioned earlier.

((incidentally, you're actually going to the edge of the bluffs, not the roof. You're too far from the cliff here.))

::as if confidentially:: Neither have I.

((bah, I was imagining the typical Villains Clifftop Castle. Makes more sense that way though))

Well, no sense dawdling, then, unless we're waiting out a patrol

((nope, think an upper-class Zorro neighborhood, on the side of a cliff, with walls))

No sir. Everyone else should be busy watching the exhibition. Onwards! ::leads the way, tastefully concealing the gun in the folds of his outfit::

::follows along until a suitable place to break away from the two and rejoin the antics in the garden::

::as you make your way out of the house and across the lawn, you're treated to a true mastery of stealth. Nereo isn't invisible, he's just supposed to be where he is. There's no sense noticing him, he's the help.::

Good luck Doctor!

::meanwhile...::

::gives thumbsup::

::Tyrone and An have been circling and trading ineffectual blows for a few more minutes. Both shields have suffered more hits, there are few more rips in clothing, and both men have taken scratches::

((you're both down 10 more shield charges and 1 more wound, hopefully to speed this up :)))

((How many charges does the shield have?))

((15))

::panting, nearly exhausted:: Give up, Griffen. Admit defeat and I'll let you walk away.

::takes a deep breath and readies his blade again:: No.

::Tyrone again launches a blistering series of attacks::

((Tyrone makes a triple Thrust, getting 3 and 2 VPs on the attacks that hit. An prepares two Ripostes and a Pierce. Tyrone rolls 3 and 4 damage and, after spending Wyrd, An blocks with 5 and 4. His Ripostes are at 0 and 1 VPs, rolling 6 and 5 damage. The first attack flashes the shield, while the second goes to armor and 2 gets through. On the Pierce, An gets 0 VPs and rolls 3 damage, all of which goes through armor.))

::And, again, Tyrone unleashes a frenzied salvo of thrusts. And, again, An turns them all, hitting too hard... but the first flash causes the knight's belt buckle to emit a sizzle and sparks... the second and third strikes mark holes in Tyrone... one hanging slightly on his shirt but ripping a hole, the second darting out and right back into that gap::

::Tyrone is suddenly bleeding profusely from the deep stab. He doesn't look too incommoded, but his shield is fried and he's quite vulnerable to one major hit::

::wrings hands and checks thru his little black bag::

::moves somewhat erratically, suddenly unsure whether he should go on the defensive or try to take An out in another berzerker strike::

::takes a readied stance:: Admit defeat Tyrone. Lay down your weapon, and admit the wrong. ::watches Tyrone for an opening::

She is my betrothed! It is legal. You stole her. I will not yield to a lie!

So be it.

((JEDI!!! ##Force Lightning##))

::Tyrone decides to go with the berzerk option, throwing caution to the wind and slashing for all he's worth::

((Tyrone makes a Slash and gets 5 VPs. An attempts a Riposte, Disarm, Pierce. His Riposte counters 9 damage with 4 armor, dropping it down into his armor which lets 1 wound through. He then crits naturally on his Disarm, ultimately scoring a 7 VP disarm against Tyrone's 1 VP resistance. An then crits again on his Pierce, getting 8 armor-bypassing damage against a shieldless target with only 6 wounds left.))

::And Tyrone's last berzerk swing slides down An's blade and actually nicks his wrist. An turns his blade around the rapier once, twice, and then flings it into the garden. Then, with a contemptuously easy maneuver, An again bisects the shoulder wound that he'd opened twice before, this time cleanly severing an artery as blood fountains into the night air and Tyrone collapses to the ground::

::An's eyes are drawn to a Maria, her face glowing with pride. She winks and then disappears into the night, replaced by a nervous looking Lan::

::takes one step back and settles the point of the blade pointing at Tyrone's heart:: Yield, or. Retrieve. Your. Weapon.

::bleeds, unconscious::

P'zwounds. ::mutters, wringing hands, rushes forward::

((Oh))

::flicks the blade to the side clearing it of blood and sheathes it::

::there is loud talking suddenly all around... angry, astonished, and a little impressed::

I'm a doctor ::announces leadenly to anyone who tries to stop him::

((wits + remedy, please, Lan))

((Lan rolls 9 and 3))

::has elixir ready just in case::

An! Are you alright? ::looking up from the Castenadan.::

::Lan, with some hasty bandaging, suturing, and a swab of Elixer, manages to stabilize the young knight before he loses too much blood. He's unlikely to die, but he'll need major surgery... and... if there's nerve damage, may...

::nods to Lan:: I'm fine, tend to him.

have limited mobility on the left side of his body::

::all business, doesn't distract further from any grandstanding or other drama::

::moves to retrieve his discarded clothes, deactivates his shield::

::Lan is done and onto cleanup before he notices that Malena is hovering right behind him, watching him work::

Will... he live?

::as calm as you like, when things are quite tidy, turns and takes her in without any surprise:: He should. That cut is effective. There may be nerve damage.

((Should have told her he would die, poisoned him then moved in on the grieving sister!))

Milady may wish to sit. You look a little pale.

((should have told her he might, if he doesn't get proper incentive!))

He is a fool. He never learned anything more than what he could pick up easily from talent. He should have yielded when his shield failed. ::seems genuinely conflicted:: You say he'll only have nerve damage? I've seen a dozen men die from wounds less impressive.

I trust I don't disappoint on all counts. ::shrugs:: I make no guarantees. Our fates are all in the hands of the pancreator.

You, who can heal such a terrible wound, are a simple physick in this man's retinue?

Not simple, madam. Nor is Don Griffen any ordinary man either. ::pauses:: How have you been. I mean really?

((That's not valley girl speak, it's "I mean, really, how, have you been"))

I have been well. I read your book. I didn't understand most of it.

::makes his way over and looks to Lan and Malena:: He'll make it, I assume, Doctor?

I'll read it aloud to you sometime. Poetry's better that way. ::looks up:: I think so. ::looks around:: An effective cut. ::conceeds::

::goes on to check An over::

::nods and brushes him away:: I had no fear knowing you were here. I'm fine, thank you.

::looks to Malena:: Sorry about your brother. ::does a small bow and looks to Lan:: I trust you'll take good care of him? ::looks back to Malena:: He is, of course, at your disposal.

::wrings his hands in studied indifference::

Don Griffen, would that I had one half so loyal to defend my honor. Your lady is very lucky... wherever she may be.

I think you'll find, loyal men are close at hand, if you just know where to look. Good evening to you. ::another bow::

::takes his leave::

::meanwhile, speaking of An's lady...::

::two dark shapes float down from the cliffs at a bit faster speed than advertised on the sporting warehouse roof::

I say!

This is...a bit faster than they advertised. ::sucks in breath, hoping that doing so makes him lighter::

There's the boat! Or maybe a buoy. Hopefully the boat!

((I'm reminded of the pirate who kept a cloth in his mouth since if he didn't swallow water, he couldn't drown.))

::aims for the hopefully boat::

::tries to hit near it, anyways::

::it is, in fact, the boat, and with some trepidation neither of you misses.::

All went well, I take it?

Swimmingly! Except no swimming, fortunately.

Then away we go!

Lets be off. I'd rather be long gone by the time they notice that they are short a guest.

::as Martel, Maria, Tollosk, and Nereo head back to shore, and An strolls casually out of the area amidst begrudging congratulations from the assembled Hazat, Lan and Malena accompany Tyrone to the hospital... all are long gone by the time Petros realizes that Maria has escaped again, and before another Castenda thinks to check on their "guest" in the basement::

::At the local trauma center, Malena gets to watch as Lan pulls more of his doctor schtick, casually taking over from the lower ranking doctors and working in surgery for most of the night to repair Tyrone::

::Meanwhile, a proposal to break the trust issue is made: Nereo will lead you all to the Black Cypress document as long as a representative of the other houses picked by him and a few members of the press are also in attendence::

((The entourage gains a lackey and a reporter!))

::agrees::

((well, when he says representative of the other houses... he means one from each :)))

((Oh. The entourage hires a bus.))

::surprisingly quickly, the next afternoon sees a collection of automobiles unloading at the Isabella Orthodox Cathedral... all nobles that could be arranged on short notice by an ex-butler, are... including a Justus baron, Duke Enrico of the Estancia, a Bursandra knight, a Rolas baronet, a Dulcinea earl, and, obviously notified at the last second, Baron Petros and Marquesa Malena of the Eduardo and Castenda::

::whispers to An:: You want to tell them all why they're here?

::chuckles:: A Parlor scene? How could I refuse?

::three reporters from the local newspapers and two from the holonet look on, filming, photoing, or noting as is their wont::

::clears his throat loudly:: Can I have everyone's attention?

::all of you are probably in your second best clothes, and working on a couple of hours of sleep::

::the small crowd quiets except for the snapping of photos and the audible grumble of Petros::

::Malena's expression is unreadable when she notices Nereo::

I am sure all of you know who I am so I'll cut right to the chase. It has recently come to the attention of the throne that the location of the Black Cyprus Document has been discovered. For those of you who don't know this document...

((Cypress... like the tree, not the island :)))

((OHHHHHH...))

lists the contingency chain in the event of a total calamity. It was put together by Prince Juan himself and at this time of tragedy is to be followed. ::motion to Nereo::

I can attest to all of that, lords and ladies. I was a witness to its creation, and privy to its hiding places. As far as I know, but one has not been destroyed. I'll not name names who did that.

Doctor. Are you familiar with Aethelward's Plants?

((Aethelward's... thats a weed. But it may help to slow the poison down.))

Ah, I'm familiar with the volume, yes...

Could you ask the Bishop to bring it out, please?

::nods and sees to it::

::a few minutes later, a somewhat bewildered Bishop emerges with Lan and a large, thick tome.::

Why do you fine nobles need a book from my private library?

Please open it, your grace.

::as the Bishop opens the book, he makes an appaled face as he realizes that it is hollowed out. Inside, rests a thick packet of parchment and a small, thin plastic case::

::mutters:: Oh, there *is* a rather rambling passage about Callitris endlicheri.... clever. ::looks on::

This document is sealed by Prince Juan's hand, as is the think machine disk in the case. Both have detailed lines of succession and exchanges of power as intended should the worst happen to the Hazat.

::does look suitably impressed and excited::

::and the rest of the day is spent examining the documents in the Bishop's study. Loud arguments ensue. More nobles show up. Scans are taken by the press. Petros yells until he's red in the face, and Malena puts up a half-hearted argument::

::While the documents are not agreed by all to be definitive, and they will take some time to truly approve since those that created them are dead, they are at the very least comprehensive, and have clear succession for all eventualities::

::For those in the room, the biggest upshot is that there's a clause that confers full inheritence on all pureblooded offspring, even women, in the event of a certain level of death in the house... Maria is owed the full title of Baroness and her father's lands and authority that went sideways to Petros.::

::he is very unhappy::

::we are very happy at him::

::seems... distant::

I shall have to practice bowing a little lower to Maria, I imagine. ::aside to Martel::

::and of all the decisions in the document, matters of Eduardo succession seem the likeliest to hold up, as the document is fully within the Eduardo power structure::

An...? ::sitting down next to him::

::replies quietly:: she'll hate that, you know. Not a LOT or anything, but...

((technically, you still outrank her... especially if you marry a marquesa :)))

Hmm? ::looks over to Maria:: Been a long couple of days, hasn't it?

Yeah... you know what this means, right?

::is not at all used to thinking of himself as ranking anything::

((Martel outranks no-one. He still doesn't bow often.))

((Martel used to outrank everyone))

Sort of... I think.

I have a freehold. I never expected to be my own lord. I own my own allegiance; any ties of convenience I make are mine to choose. Anyone above me can suggest, but I don't have to comply... For the first time in my life I have no father, no brother, no uncle with the power to control my life.

I can do whatever I want with my name, my lands, and my destiny. Be whomever I want. Be with whomever I want.

And I want to share it with you, forever, if you're still willing.

::runs a hand through his hair:: Forever... with you? ::rolls his eyes upwards and things about it for a moment, arching his eyebrows dramatically::

::elbows him:: You know what I mean. I know how you feel. I'd trade it all for you, and now I can.

((look out, here comes baronet so-and-so... don't leave her twist too long!))

((apparently she elbowed An in his sword wounds, killing him where he sits))

::lowers his eyebrows and looks into Maria's eyes:: I couldn't ask you to do that. Give it all up. Your house still needs you. I can't guarantee that I'll be around at all times. ::he taps the questing knight badge:: But you know that I'd give all of this away, if it meant we could be together.

We'll figure it out, as long as it's together. Agreed?

So... yes... I guess I should say. Shouldn't you be on a kneed with a ring? ::winks::

::whispers:: By the way, I'm bringing Arnesto to live with us.

Honestly, I just got my lands back. It's going to weeks before I can afford a ring. You'll just have to do with a promise of one for now.

Oh alright, ::leans in grabs her and plants a big wet one on her::

::and fade to black::

~~~OOC~~~