Are you a spy?

SUMMARY: Rona follows up on her earlier discussion with Aya, learning more about the Mul's former life in Charn and her romantic woes, sort of. Morgan turns out to know Aya's suitor, by reputation at least. Discussion also covers Aya's relationship with Charn, and Rona invokes Tarien's Grace to confirm that Aya is not herself a Charneth agent. They are joined by Demelsa, a masked warrior and novelist.

Aya walks along the boulevard that flanks the river, coming from the north. Her steps are brisk, and her countenance tightened in concentration or ire.

Morgan is off the side helping a fishermen repair rope with a mending spell "I am afrade to ask what fish you were going for."

Yelrona is, as she always seems to be these days, hanging out near the piers, near where the fishing boats unload... right across the street from a seafood storage house, in fact. She is currently talking to a one-legged middle-aged man, explaining that no, Tarien has not blessed her with sufficient healing gifts to repair his leg. He limps off, dejected, and she notices both Aya and Morgan. Greeting both, she tilts her head curiously at Aya. "What's wrong?"

GAME: Yelrona rolls sense motive: (3)+18: 21

Aya's face tightens further into what is most definitely a scowl. It turns towards Yelrona at her question, but doesn't seem directed at her, per se. Her course is, though.. or rather, she vanishes from where she was walking to appear immediately adjacent to Yelrona. "Whatever Charn's plans are, these public statements of unity are even more absurd than I believed."

Yelrona digests that for a while before asking "What's absurd about them?"

Aya's eyes narrow as she produces a missive on fine, folded parchement, formerly sealed with a wax stamp impressed with a formal house seal. "This." After a moment of pause, she extends the parchment to Yelrona, borne pinched between two fingers, as if it might be dangerous.

Curious, Rona takes the parchment. She makes note of the seal before looking over the text itself.

"I discovered it in my room, slipped beneath the door by an unknown courier...

Morgan notices the two and walks over to them but with the tenseness she is wondering if she should.

Yelrona reads the document, curiously.

Yelrona regards the letter carefully, then returns it to Aya. "Ah. I... take it you do not feel particularly blessed or honored?"

Morgan gives a nod and does not say anything as this seems personial and does not want to poke in that horent nest

Aya's eyes narrow fractionally further. "No. I do not know this man, nor do I wish to. Only a Maugrumite would be so foolishly presumptuous and bold." Her eyes then shift to Morgan briefly, acknowledging presence before panning back to Yelrona.

Yelrona nods. "So. Why is this Duke Archellius looking to marry a woman he doesn't know, who hasn't even been in Charn in... how long did you say?"

GAME: Morgan rolls Knowledge/Nobility: (7)+10: 17

Aya rolls her eyes. "For public statement, I'd guess."

Morgan shrugs "From what I know of him he is not some one I would mary. I bet you would gain his debt."

Aya rolls her eyes. "For public statement, I'd guess. It's been decades..." She looks to Morgan and her frown deepens. "How wonderful."

Yelrona looks back and forth between the two. "I... don't understand. What public statement?" She thinks about it a little more and adds "I take it, then, that you are a figure of some significance, back in Charn?"

Morgan nods "I been told he is looking for some one to have a child, though I would love to meet him I been told he is a wonderfull chess player."

"If I am," one corner of Aya's lips lift in something akin to a smirk, "no one informed me." At least it breaks the scowl somewhat, if not completely. "Maugrim's Chosen and Taara's First came here, to this city, not long ago to announce their impending nuptials. A united Charn, or so they would portray. A rash of other, similar pairings have suddenly sprung up. In Charn, Alexandria, and other lands. Now, this ...slave of the Tyrant thinks he can foist his interests upon me by that precedent. He is mistaken."

Yelrona nods. She knows about the marriages, although she's been too distracted by recent events to pay close attention to them. "So... he's a Maugrimite, and he thinks you a Taarite, and that by marrying you he can... _what_ exactly? I must admit, I do not understand the point of these marriages."

Morgan smiles "I dont know I think I would like to be married one day. But I want it to be with some one I love, and not out of higher station."

Aya rolls both he shoulders. "Whatever he thinks he can do, he will try to do. The Tyrant believes all exists for Him to use as He pleases, and so do His followers. Exactly what this duke is trying to accomplpish... I've no idea. If he does arrive, he won't be getting the recepton he expects."

Aya dips her chin to Morgan. "If I choose to, it will be my choice of when and with whom."

Morgan thinks for a moment "Well there are people that would love his land so tee them off any of his plans and they will handle the rest." she then adds to what was directed to her "I am with you there."

Yelrona listens carefully and nods to both women. "Do you think he'll be a threat to you?"

One white brow arches. "A threat to me? Doubtful. The Tyrant tried to claim and control me decades ago, and I defied Him. His slaves are free to try again, but they will meet the same results."

Morgan says "Well if I were you I would go and see what shape he is in, but I would send some one and not go my self."

Yelrona nods to Aya. "Well said. And a good thought," she agrees with Morgan. She thinks a little and adds "If you need any help with them that I can provide, let me know."

"If he comes here, I'll see him then," Aya points out. "If he doesn't, then he's smarter than most. It's not worth the travel to Charn, especially now."

Morgan nods "well then look in to who are his servents. You never know who will slip you a drug and cary you to a ship in a rug."

"Well, I might be..." Rona starts, then stops. "Of some use," she finishes, obviously not what she was going to say. "So... you're just going to ignore it for now, then? It might be worthwhile to look into any agents from Charn who might be active, at least."

Aya dips her chin to Yelrona. "An excellent point." Once more a lipcorner lifts. "Conveniently, that's something we're already investigating, isn't it?"

Yelrona smiles. "The thought _had_ crossed my mind, yes." She looks at Aya more intently. "_Do_ you know any Charneth agents operating in Alexandria?"

Yelrona expends ONE use of DISCERN LIES. (spoofed)

Demelsa has arrived.

Aya arches a brow. "Do I know of other Carneth here? Yes. Are some likely spies? I assume so. I also assume that they wouldn't share that fact with me, or anyone else, if they were talented at being spies."

Yelrona smiles again. "What I mean, and you know it, is is there anyone in Alexandria whom you know to be operating as an agent of Charn."

Demelsa would be considered an unusual sight in the Warehouse district: covered from head to toe, masked, dressed in a mix of finery and combat-readiness, and... are those glowing eyes? And with all that talk of foreign agents afoot, one could be forgiven for making connections, even if her appearance is a far cry from clandestine. As for what she's up to, she reaches the main intersection and simply pauses, her masked visage pointed mostly down the street.

Morgan looks towards the masked woman that is walking around "such nice clothing, wonder if I could pull off a style like that." The half elf forgot to not speak aloud again.

Aya shakes her head. "None that I know for certain, no. " Anything further is delayed as her eyes are drawn to others arriving.

Yelrona nods, accepting that answer, and turns to consider the newcomer. "You know," she says mildly, "trying _that_ hard to seem inconspicuous can only raise suspicions in this town."

Demelsa 's head cocked to the side at the end of Morgan's words, but it's Yelrona's statement that prompts her to turn to face the commenters. "A mysterious woman sauntering about with nary a hint of skin to be seen?" she replies with a youthful and cheerful voice. "Being suspicious is a burden I fear I must bear!" she adds with fake dramatic tone, raising a hand to her forehead as she pantomines feeling faint.

Morgan shrugs "dress how ever you want, but I do like your mask, it is pretty. And I always wish I could dress in such tones you wear, I doubt I could pass that off."

Aya arches a brown at the masked one. "A burden that you wear proudly, it seems."

Yelrona laughs. "We all have our burdens to bear," she agrees, extending a hand. "Yelrona, of Tarien's House."

Demelsa drops the act at Morgan's words, her hands returning to her sides so that she may give a short bow. "Why thank you! The mask was a hasty addition, not exactly what I had in mind to compliment my attire." she replies. Taking a few steps forward to close the distance, she reaches out and grips Yelrona's hand with a strong, firm grip. "Demelsa Curniven. Pleased to meet one of Tarien's clergy." she replies, then shifts her blue-pinpricked gaze to Aya. "Admittedly, a bit." she says with a little giggle.

"So long as you enjoy it..." Aya adds with some bemusement. She then dips her chin to acknowledge Demalsa's introduction.

"So, Damelsa Curniven," Rona asks, looking the newcomer over, "newly arrived to Alexandria? Or simply a new wardrobe? I'm sure I haven't seen _it_ before, at least."

Morgan looks to the sky and starts to wonder off after saying "I need to go, I think I will call it a night."

"Not my first visit, but the city's charm has lured me in and I intend to stay longer this time." Demelsa answers, before giving a quick little glance down at herself. "I suppose I might be able to find something less striking..."

"Oh, but why?" Rona asks. "It's a unique style, and I say it's best to embrace a unique style."

"You should be yourself," Aya mentions, "and act as you choose. For myself, I must attend to other matters for now."

"Thank you. Be well, this eve." Demelsa says in parting to Aya, her blue pinpricks flaring a moment as if sputtering embers. "Unique, possibly. Fashion is not my strong-suit though, I did not hit upon a 'unique style' intentionally."

Yelrona nods. "To be honest, I didn't really think it was a fashion statement. If you don't mind my asking, though... what _is_ all this?"

Demelsa pauses at that statement, her entire body still for a few seconds until her head slightly tilts. "Can you be more specific?" she slowly asks, a hint of nervousness in her tone.

Yelrona tilts her head to one side. "Well, the mask, to begin with," she says.

Aya has left.

Demelsa 's tone immediately perks up at that clarification. "Oh! Why, to cover my revolting visage, of course!" she replies with cheerful exuberance, her voice actually quite lovely even if the mask adds a little reverberation to it.

Yelrona blinks. "I... see. Or, rather, don't. Well... all right, then." Waving vaguely at her gear, Rona adds "A warrior, I take it?"

Demelsa reaches behind her and lightly pats the polearm strapped to her back. "Mostly how I intend to pay for food and a vermin-free bed. I would consider myself more a scholar, writer, novelist even."

Yelrona nods. "Wise choice. Paying the bills as a writer is much more difficult."