FOLLOW THAT BARON

[murderbaby]

WHO: Leander, Isaac, Romain, Athessa & Mhavos (we're pretending no one has last names so the mages don't feel bad.)
WHAT: We're following that baron, lads.
WHEN: Right about... now. And a little later.
WHERE: The infamous Baron Deshaies'... house.
NOTES: Athessa might break her arm again.

To Review,

• Team Polite, consisting of Mhavos Dalat (as a simple servant), Leander (as a normal person), and Romain (as himself), waltz in the front door.
• Team Sneak, consisting of Athessa and her moxie, sneak in the back door to root around; Isaac is acting as a backup dancer.
• Isaac discovers the Baron is already making a run for it! Thanks for putting the pressure on, Daddy Warbucks Romain!
• Team Polite becomes Team Impolite as they race to catch the bastard.
• Mhavos hears that minor nobles Arienne Vérier and Etienne de Pentilion have been sneaking around and being Suspicious.
• Athessa finds some damning evidence, including ciphers and other creepy crap.
• Everyone tries to decide whether they should: Straight up do some murder, tell Celene, all of the above, or none of the above.

Please feel free to make top levels at various points in the mission for maximum versatility.

Comments

[wythersake]

The vague taste of bile.

It isn't as though he hasn't seen (participated, caused) worse, but it's finally enough to shift his eyes to Athessa's. Hardly as easy to read a still expression as the stories would have it; often enough a stare is only that: Opaque as the silent, psychic pressure to not cut off his fucking finger.

"Then the terms are clear," He states, as if that makes it true. The Duke isn't anyone he particularly wants to tangle with (a distant name of Montsimmard, a nearer reputation), and if Romain proves intent -- well. No one can say he didn't try. "My Lord will speak now, and honestly,"

The Baron, for however long he warrants the title.

"That he needn't be reminded so."

That last, to Deshaeis. Now would be a good time to talk. Now, before anyone gets knife happy. Happ-ier.

[toujoursdroit]

Romain's stance gives away nothing more than his mask does; he seems willing enough to stand there forever. To let the moment stretch to the point of breaking.

Deshaies, for his part, latches on to Isaac as a lifeline. Yes, he is quick to assure them, of course he understands the terms, understands them completely, cannot wait to be of service in any way they find fitting. So happy to make amends for his actions.

After a few moments of this, Romain glances around his companions and nods, slightly. "Well enough. He seems to be able to do without the reminder. I am content to let him go without if everyone else is. We shall see how his memory fares soon enough."

He comes closer and looks down at the Baron. A younger man might crouch; the duke does not, but his voice is low enough that it's clear his words are meant for Deshaeis, even if the rest can hear. He speaks in Orlesian, almost conversational, though the farthest thing from glib. "Understand that you are worth less than my granddaughter" the one Celene splashily and publicly humiliated. That one. "Were she dead in truth, I would take more than a finger, and if you do not cooperate fully now, I am still happy to make sure you understand your exact relative worth. I trust that term is clear."