"Would be good start," you mumble. "Very good start."
Fresh from a bath, you figure yourself to be as presentable as you'll ever be. Yes, your axe could still do with a good cleaning to remove the ichor, but then it would be a good week if that was the only mess you had to clean from it. Besides, if the pair were not legit you had no doubt that Andre would have more pressing concerns than the regality of your weaponry.
"Walk two paces 'head, only paces." You command, gesturing to the pair with your free hand to lead the way.
"M-M-May we borrow a f-f-few clothes first, sir?" Emelyn asks, the pair starting down the hall toward the end of your suite's passage.
Astora looks briefly toward Emelyn, before nodding in approval. "Yes, approaching Andre like this publicly may lead to... issues."
"Robes, simplest pair." You grunt, stepping aside to put your back against a wall. "My room, again two pace." While the two try to keep neutral expressions as they pass, it doesn't take much to recognize the relief in Emelyn's face. If not a trick of the torchlight, you could almost swear Astora was smirking when she thought you weren't looking.
The Dark Elves quickly begin digging through your wardrobe, almost every outfit either provided for the room or a gift from one of the townspeople. The small handful that you truly care for are, thankfully, avoided by the two: Who would have thought that Dark Elf females did not share the same preference in cloth as a Half-Orc male? After a few minutes there's a small pile of potential outfits sitting on your bed, ready to be inspected before handing back to the Elves for trying on. Mentally you note which outfits were chosen, just as a reminder of what'll be safe of later assassination attempts.
Astora's remarkably quick with finding a robe that she likes. Her first pair fail to fit (in a presentable manner, at least), but the third - more a fur cloak than anything else, probably gifted for its material value instead of its worksmanship / lack thereof - is soon draped over her shoulders. Emelyn, however, lags behind, spending far too long for your liking in each outfit ahead of a mirror. At times, you can see tears forming at the corners of her eyes as she mouths something at her image. You would greatly prefer to get this overwith, stop playing dress-up for the Dark Elf assassins, but something about her nigh-kicked puppy look keeps you from rushing.
Finally, after almost a dozen outfits, Emelyn settles on the very first one she picked up: A large robe that would fit you snugly, but on her lithe frame just barely refrains from dragging the floor. "Ready?" You grunt, and with a nod she joins you and Astora by the door. She's so quiet you barely manage to catch the whispered words she shares as she passes. "Thank you."
~ ~ ~
That none of the palace guards stop you on the way to Andre's study is a good sign for the Dark Elves. Heck, one of them even gives a brief "Evening," to your group as you pass. Unless part of a plot that had infiltrated all the way to the guard, their story appears to be turning more and more legit.
Having walked through a good deal of the castle, you finally reach Andre's study. For the first time since your brute honesty, the pair look to be cautious, if not afraid. A shared glance at one another return the nagging itch to the back of your palms. "Why wait?" You grunt, looking at the door posing as a simple barrier between the Elves and their alibi. "Knock, get on with it."
"W-W-We will," Emelyn mutters, looking back to you, and then Astora once more. "But f-f-first, some advice."
"Advice?" Your hand eases back towards the axe you had abandoned midway through the walk. "What for? Why advice now?"
"I-I... we..." Emelyn looks to be obviously struggling with something, Astora's hand placed on her shoulder giving a visible sense of relief.
"We cannot say much," Astora states. "But watch your tongue around Andre. He can be a bit... finnicky, with us."
"Hmph. Won't blubber, jus' knock al'eady."
The two Dark Elves share one final look at each other, before finally knocking at the door. If you thought that their knocking at your suite's door had been quiet, then this was practically silent. "Louder," you command, closing one of the two paces between you and them. Again they knock, this time a bit louder than your introduction.
"Yes? Is someone there?"
A sigh, but of what? Anxiety? Tedium? Sadness? "It is Astora and Emelyn, your Majesty. We have brought Marros," she pauses, looking back to you. "He has a question."
Something muted behind closed doors that you can't gather, but each of your "escorts" obviously do, before Andre calls out again. "Come in, the door is unlocked."
Nodding your approval, Astora begins to open the door. This time it is your turn for an interruption, placing a rough hand on her and Emelyn's shoulders. "Astora, me, yous." At this point the caution seems entirely redundant, but better safe than sorry. There was no promise that the pair had not stolen another of the castle's voices, perhaps of some favored servant staff, and were using you to run at the King.
~ ~ ~
Upon entering Andre's personal library, what stands out most readily to you is that it almost looks to be less library and more conglomerate of library, alchemist's lab, and dungeon. Maybe the last was more your imagination, however: The only dungeon-like feature was the plethora of cages, and there were many nobles who sought to keep exotic animals more like a private piece of art than trophy to be displayed. The beakers and such were a deal less excusable, however.
You ponder all this as you follow Astora through a maze of books and tables toward a distant light. Your darkvision helps to avoid what obstacles the dim lighting hides, though at a few junctures you can't help but notice that the pair take a preference for the uneven paths. Did they intend you to trip?
In about a minute, the navigation comes to an end, Astora coming to a halt near a curved wall of books. Set in the middle is a desk carrying a bright candle lantern, Andre sitting behind it and a mass of books related to a subject you can't make out at this distance. While you've taken quite a walk through the library, a glance to the side reveals you couldn't be more than twenty or so paces from the exit. Evidently the room could do with a great deal of reorganization. "Welcome, Marros. I see you received Astora, Emelyn." If not for your darkvision, you doubt you would have caught the minor flash of a scowl Andre shot the pair of Dark Elves. "I see you've provided them clothing, good. It is a bit chilly of an evening for long exposure. Now, do share the question you have for me. I would prefer to get back to my studies, tomorrow will be quite the busy day."
So far isolated from his nobility, his people, anyone, you can't help but feel a degree of... intimidation, from the man who just hours before felt like a brother you'd never had. "Yes, these two. Said they from you, for me. You know them, trust them?"
"Well, I haven't the hand of a daughter to promise to your Marros, s-"
"They from you, you know them?"
Your interruption flashes another scowl across Andre's face, and a bit slower to hide a flinching from Astora and Emelyn. Though just as quickly as the scowl passed, Andre gives a warm smile toward you. "Patience. I was going to say that I sent a pair of Dark Elves for you, and these two match their names as well as their voice. If you do not feel entirely safe, however, you are free to guide the two forward and let me give them an examination. I'm afraid that I can't quite see more than your silhouettes with the dark of my study behind you."
While the offer sounds sincere and would put your concern to a permanent rest, the backs of your palm almost feel to be on fire at this point. Something about the offer to come forward WITH them, along with the isolation... it feels completely wrong. Worse, the path on the floor is even worse a mess than any path you took prior: You can only see one way through with moderately even footing, and if you followed behind Astora close enough to be of any use, your feet would be far from that path.
Sun Oct 02 03:39:57 2011