srwug_alpha_rp | Brothers Separated By A Single Channel

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Brothers Separated By A Single Channel

[1]

...I'm going after Isaac.

[Richard makes his intent pretty clear and simple as he starts packing some of his stuff, food and supplies already stuffed into a backpack. At his workbench, he briefly hesitates as he picks up his sword... but straps it to his side anyway.]

I've got some idea of where he might go, and I've things to check on anyway.

[Richard seems pretty determined, anything you might have to say?]

[2]
[Locked]

For a place being fortified, wasn't that hard to get in...

[Richard muses as he steps towards the Sinclair household, though admittedly even Britannian special forces did not typically have the might of magic at their command.

He stares up at the aged building for a bit, wondering if the people inside had ever really met a - as they would call him - 'Norman' before...

Well, as he knocked on the door, time to find out.]

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Is it a good idea to go alone?

I wasn't sure if anyone else would offer, and I'm not planning to wait. Isaac may seem like an idiot, hell, he may actually be one in many, many respects... but he's smart enough to know he needs to be on the move, and quickly at that. So I have to be quicker.

What if you will find yourself in trouble? Trouble that are too big for you to handle? You know he's probably not doing this alone.

Then I'll try and deal with it. Besides...

[Richard rolls his shoulders slightly, making sure everything stays on probably.]

I suspect he's the one who needs help. Considering what's happening with his family...

I don't know what happened. Most of this happened when I was back home, and I don't know any of the people involved very well. But I think I know what you mean.

Just be careful, alright?

Of course. Keep Ann safe for me whilst I'm gone?

[Richard asks as he gives Lily a small hug, before turning away to find an exit.]

Don't worry. After what I did for her already, doing a bit more won't be a problem.

Too many people died already, Richard. Don't join their numbers.

It's dangerous to go alone. Need you a companion on your journey, paladin?

Perhaps... but you can still be of use here. I need someone to keep the 'scientists' in line.

[Richard nods his head to the certain shared laboratory of two mad geniuses, giving off a small smile.]

"HALT!" A loud, strident voice calls from behind you!

You turn around to see a young girl around you age, dressed in a respectable regency long coat with tails, level a calvary saber at you!

"Cannot leave well enough alone, can you, eh?" She taunts. "Even with your rulings struck down by the crown, your master persists in sending assassins after us? No matter!"

She charges. "I'll send you all to hell!"

Edited 2014-01-17 21:25 (UTC)

Hm?

[Richard draws his sword, almost thankful for once that he gets to draw it on something other than an inhuman creature. Even if its purely to deflect the attack as he sidesteps.]

Easy, easy, I'm not an assassin. Firstly, would an assassin knock?

"OF COURSE HE WOULD!" Glorianna hotly replies, spinning around to slash at your leg.

"The last one did, after all! Pretending to be a lonely traveler, lost and looking for shelter...seeking to cut our throats while we all slept–! It appears Lord Ahtelstane has run out of tricks and must repeat himself!"

Edited 2014-01-17 21:42 (UTC)

[Richard hops over that one, before extending his legs to kick off the young Sinclair woman and backflip away.]

I don't plan to stay the night, I'm just looking for someone. ...Kinda looks like you actually, but louder, male, possibly an idiot?

Gloriana goes flying, rolls, and picks herself up, face contorted with rage.

"Ghhh! I'll make you pay for that! Face this, the Sinclair family Sword Style!!! No Tree Shall–!"

"Gloriana, that's enough." A familiar matronly voice says sharply.

Glorian freezes...then takes two steps back, sheaths her sword and bows slightly. "I am sorry, Mother."

The door you were knocking on opens with a large groan, and an older woman in a high necked dress steps outside and regards you with extremely analytical eyes.

She notes the sword you carry and raises an eyebrow.

"I am the Duchess Sinclair. I run this estate, and speak for the affairs of the venerable Sinclair family as a whole. Now...what was that you said about a male idiot?"

Edited 2014-01-17 22:26 (UTC)

...I believe that would be your son, and her brother.

[Richard regards both ladies as he sheathes his own blade. He brushes himself off, before casting one last glance at Gloriana.]

Sorry about your gut. But I came here to find Isaac, not get carved up by his family. Name's Richard Chevalier.

Gloriana's eyes widen, then narrow. She sniffs at the air suspiciously.

"That scent of onions..I knew it! Mother permit me to slay this Norman interlop–!"

"Calm yourself, Gloriana." the Duchess scolds, with a tone of voice that never raises in volume, yet cuts as sharply as steel.

"This is unbecoming of a Sinclair."

Gloriana shuts the hell up, and stands there, fidgeting.

"An enemy would hardly have come bearing a sword that my son helped forge for him, would he?" the Duchess asks rhetorically.

She sniffs at the air.

"And that is hardly the odor of one from Normandy...do you happen to be from Calais, by any chance?"

Edited 2014-01-17 22:32 (UTC)

...How do you people recognise us French by smell? You're like bloodhounds...

[Richard mutters, before realising his words, and straightens himself.]

Y-Yes I'm from Calais, and Isaac did indeed forge my sword. And I believe he's in trouble, so I wanted to know if you might have seen or heard from him since the call about the trial.

"A gift of the female side of the family..." the Duchess explains with an idle wave of her hand. "The name 'Chevalier' also was a valuable clue, no?"

She listens to your explanation, and then nods with an expression no more sedate than before.

"I think that this is a matter best discussed over a cup of tea. Gloriana?"

"Yes, mother. Immediately." Gloriana rushes inside. You hear a sudden 'woosh' of flames, and a howling teakettle.

Isaac's mother extends her hand toward the open door. "Would you join us in our parlor, Richard Chevalier, that we may discuss this more comfortably?"

...I can't imagine your gas supplies would last a siege...

[Richard remarks as he steps inside, probably going to try and find a place to both sit down, and take off his stuff.]

"We use solar power." The Duchess replies simply, as you step inside.

The parlor of the Sinclair family is...sturdy. There are few guilded fripperies or lacey doiles, or fabulous curtains.

But the thick oak furniture and fur rugs look comfortable and aged. A few tapestries and hunting trophy animal heads adorn the place. It's much less dusty than you'd expected.

With a clatter of dishes, and a set of very Anglo-Saxon curses, Glorianna emerges with a China Tray of tea, biscuits, and lemon, setting them on the small table before you.

The Duchess takes a small, slurping sip of her tea, then exhales.

"Now...perhaps we should start by asking you how you came to know little Isaac in the first place?"

Edited 2014-01-17 22:52 (UTC)

[Richard looks around, slightly awed, before wincing at all the swearing and crashing. He seems apologetic as Glorianna emerges, and with some caution, takes up some tea.]

I worked with him. Ever heard of the White Chalice? Perhaps a giant robot by the name of Ideigi?

"Isaac spoke quite a lot about the people of the White Chalice and their travels across the land." the Duchess replies. "And he spoke quite warmly about the various adventures and mishaps they'd get up to. "

She smiles warmly. "I believe it did him much good to experience the wider world beyond the Britannian Isles. But as for this Ideigi..."

She takes another sip (btw: the tea is DELICIOUS). "He did mention at several points a young spirited fellow, who fought the Demon Kings of old with a mystical robot that he could summon at will. A valiant fighter, he said, which is quite the compliment from him."

She cocks her head to the side. "I'd ask you if you were that person, but there is certainly the air of sorcery about you: wisdom learned too quickly in your eyes...tell me, what has happened to my son?"

You don't say...

[Richard is... surprised to actually hear Isaac apparently thought so highly of him. In private at that. The tea is certainly helping to lift his spirits, although...]

As for him... I don't know. There was a mission in Pendragon, after you called him regarding the court decision. He disabled an ally and released a hostile creature, before fleeing without explaining himself. His whereabouts, unknown... Had kinda hoped he might stop here.

"...I see." the Duchess says, lowering her cup of tea and setting it on his plate. "Gloriana, could you check the perimeter for breaks in the wall?"

Gloriana strides out, and you and Isaac's mother are alone for the moment.

"Isaac has not shown up here." She says quietly. "Nor has he responded to any message I've sent. Not even my spies have been able to locate his whereabouts."

She stirs some sugar into her tea.

"But just a day after the Pendragon incident, a certain..thorn in the family's side was promptly and forcibly removed. Our estate has been granted the status of a Royal Protected Nature Reserve under our stewardship. And certain families from the the Royal Court have sent invitations inviting us to take part in some joint financial enterprises–out of the blue, as it were."

She keeps stirring. "Curious, no?"

Edited 2014-01-21 01:18 (UTC)

...Very. I'd talked to him about potentially talking to members of the royal family weighing in with some support for your claims, but that goes beyond anything we discussed.

So that's what he got for... whatever he tried to do.

"So it seems." Isaac's mother says, starring at the tea in her cup.

"I hardly dared to hope...but he did it. My little son Isaac saved our family home." She says softly.

Yet with clear pride in her voice.

Yeah, at the cost of risking friends, allies, and possibly the wider city of Pendragon if we hadn't stopped what he set loose. Seriously, it was like, a cyborg dinosaur.

"...What?" Isaac's mother says, her carefully Britannian poise and restraint fluctuating.

She pulls out a fan. "What for? No, a pointless question. Who."

She leans forward. "Who was Isaac working for?"

Edited 2014-01-21 06:33 (UTC)

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