Latest revision as of 19:51, 20 October 2014

Participants

• Fenris
• Katrina

Date

20/10/477

Log

It doesn't take too long, or maybe it does, with Fenris knocked out and having little to no sense of time, until the liger finds his legs and stomach strapped to a... Rather comfortable chair, burlap sack still over his head.

"Ugh," Fenris moans, "Christina is an angry donkey, isn't she?" The liger's head throbs from the blow to his skull. "And she spent the whole ride here dancing on my head!" he groans. No point in pretending to be out, the feline strains his senses for anything familiar, anything that might tell him where he is.

So far, all Fenris is getting to hear is, wel... The sound of claws on a marble floor, platters, and various other things.

Finally, the burlap sack is pulled from his snout, revealing a rather well-decked table... The 'True Lady' is clearly not short on money, by the looks of things.

[Please. Do eat something... Your hands are tied, for obvious reasons, but you can simply gesture at anything, or ask one of the help, and you will be provided for], a silken voice sounds within Fenris's mind. [And yes. The help speaks shadow too. No need to bother with verbal requests]

At the table, several beings have gathered, though they all seem to wait for the one at the far end of the table, clad in the finest, red, silks, and wearing a mask decorated with gold and silver.

Others at the table include the black-furred feline from before, and... A Snowmark?

Fenris raises an eyebrow. "I prefer to speak out loud, if it is all the same to you," he says, "I hope you can forgive me for finding shadowspeak a bit distasteful." His face lights up as he spots tge panther from before. "Well hello, Chuckles!" he says, "Glad to see I have friends at this party! And a Snowmark! I did not realize that there would be so much nobility here or I would have dressed nicer!" The feline nods at his bare torso. "I hope that they at least used the fancy shackles!" he says affably, "What is the occasion?"

"One does not speak inside the Lady's house unless adressed," the black-furred feline growls softly, pulling out a dagger and slamming it into the table.

The lady on the other end of the table simply holds up her hand, on the other hand, staring at him with a penetrating stare from her amber eyes.

[Please. Do speak freely. And perhaps, you can earn yourself a place among the... True Longtails]

"Pshh. Only a Snowmark in name!" the large puma billows, his actions already contradicting his statement.

"What our... Companion is saying... Is that we are... Quite well-connected within the cold north."

Fenris grins at the big panther man. "Chuckles! Please!" he says happily, "No need for violence!" The liger sits back in his plush prison chair. "I just heard there was a party and I had an invitation!" he says, "Thanks for the ride, but I would really do something about that first bump." He grins happily and looks around the room as if he wasn't bound hand and foot to his chair.

A faint, wry smile on 'Chuckles' face, before he looks towards the lady in red, almost as if begging her for permission to strike Fenris down... She, of course, merely holds up a hand, and sets to eating the various foods on her plate.

Subsequently, the different people at the table mimic her actions, taking it as a wordless sign that the banquet has now been opened.

Fenris sits back and watches the assembled beings eat with a smile. He does not seem to have any interest himself in eating, only in watching. The heart-marked feline even starts to hum quietly to himself! "Really, though," he asks, "What is the occasion?"

[As you can imagine, information is of the utmost importance to us... And you, dear Fenris, are in a prime position to get me what I want] the smooth voice in Fenris's head.

[My sister's associates. Her movement-patterns, every little secret she has... My sources inform me that she is... More open with her information with you], she notes, staring at Fenris with that same penetrating stare.

Meanwhile, the 'Snowmark' and the panther are having a minor squabble, soon brought to a halt when the lady at the end of the table slams a decorated staff against the floor.

Fenris laughs comfortably. "I've said it before and I will say it again," he says, "I am nobody! I am not a confidante, I am not a useful pawn, and I don't KNOW anything." He watches as one of the people at the table pops some sort of prawn. "Say, are those any good?" he asks, still amiable and friendly, as if he is waiting for everyone to jump out and shout SURPRISE!

[Oh, but you do, dear. You've been a close friend of hers for quite a while... She knighted you... I'm quite sure she let you in on some things, at the very least] the voice continues, before she gestures one of the maids walking around towards the prawns, then to Fenris, whom they quickly offer a serving, placed upon a fork.

[And if not... I'm sure you'll be useful for some stress-relief and target-practice], the voice continues, before the stoic feline on the other end of the table hurls not one, but two throwing-knifes towards Fenris, which soon embed themselves left and right of his head, though they each take off a little fur.

[As you can see, I still need a little practice]

Fenris nods, smile still fixed firmly in place. "You were very clos both times," he says, "I would not let it bother you too much." He sniffs at the buttered prawns and takes a bite. "Not too bad!" he says, "But I really know very little. I don't exactly go to dinner parties as a guest, after all."

"I'm sure that Flora has a secretary who knows her schedule better than I do," Fenris adds, "What did you want to know?"

[Hmmph. Charming as always] the feline at the far end of the table notes, not a sign of her mood visible under that mask.

"The Lady would like to know everything you know. It may... Significantly improve your life-expectancy," the black-furred feline notes, adding his own throwing-knife to the other two, right under Fenris's armpit.

"Trust me. You don't want Vlad here to start throwing axes."

Fenris shakes his head. "Everything I know?" he asks incredulously, "We would be here an awful long time!" The liger puts on a look of intense concentration. "I know hundreds of songs, including the Ballad of the Blind Duelist, which will take hours all by itself!" he says, "Then there are the 68 bows appropriate to any occasion, 400 of Malvolo the Magnificent's best slieght of hand tricks, 80 Martial arts katas, schematics for half a dozen common golem types, the list just goes on!" He smiles easily at the angry panther. "You will have to be more specific," he says. The propensity of this group for throwing sharp objects was worrying.

'Chuckles' gestures one of the maids, before gesturing at Vlad. "Get his axes. I think our guest needs a little... Persuasion." he rumbles, even as the cat throws the next blade, nestling snugly at Fenris's other side.

[Now then. My sister. Everything you know about her.] the mystery feline notes with a rumble building in her throat, even as, with a quick sleight of hand, three more knifes appear beteween her fingers.

Sister? That was interesting. "See?" he says amiably, "That's much more specific!" The liger is well aware that he will not be fighting his way out of this situation, not without his coat and its contents anyway. He sits up straight and begins to give a recitation of facts. "Flora grew up in Shralesta, on the streets for several years before being taken in by a wealthy craftsman whom she refers to only as 'Master,'" he starts, "Last year, this Master sent her away to Sweetwater to seek her own fortune. She is good with machines and blueprints, but struggles with mathemagic. She likes chicken and grape juice. She invented-" he hesitates for a second, "rediscovered might be a better word- A device for capturing still images that a Spirit called the Puzzler called a camera for which King Good reinstated her status as nobility." He takes a deep breath and continues. "Lately, she has been restoring the mysteriously drained family coffers with the creation of her inventing and manufacturing group LongTech," he says, "She has been traveling to nearby contries to gain support for some new idea she has. She was recently married to her head of security, Matthews in Shralesta, it was a lovely ceremony."

[I am well-aware. As you may've gathered, I was the one that pushed her from the cart. However... You seem to be failing to get the point], it sounds within Fenris's head, even as another knife swishes past Fenris's neck, clipping off a few more hairs from his cheek.

"Now then. You don't want Sven to throw his axes, do you?" the black-furred panther rumbles with a smile, a flick of his ears.

Sven? His name had been Vlad a moment ago. Very good, Chuckles. "Then why don't you try asking me a question, Miss Mask?" he says with a smile, "Everything you know is so broad!" Whoever tied these knots was no slouch, which was certainly proving to be a problem. "Though I admit," he says, doing his very best to stay relaxed, "It was awfully nice of you to invite me to such a fancy dinner just to talk about Flora! I am sure she will be flattered."

A small flick of the ears, and another thrown knife, as the feline opposite to Fenris shakes her head. [You know full well what we want. Her schedule and history are known to us... On the other hand, her thought-patterns... And that is where you come in]

Vlad, meanwhile, is weighing his axes, making a few practice-gestures with his arms, almost as if he's ready to let his axes fly.

"Feel free to keep up your little facade... It's not like you'll be leaving anytime soon."

Fenris stares at the masked figure for a moment, then erupts into laughter. "You think I know how Flora thinks?" he chuckles, "Not even Flora knows how Flora thinks most of the time!" He grins at the assembled beings, well aware that he is only making them angry. It does not look like Vlad is quite as good at the whole pin point accuracy thing as the others have been. "Just don't touch her," he says, "She hates being touched." Nothing they don't already know, probably. "So," he smiles at the panther he has named Chuckles, "What other party games do we have planned tonight?" The liger prepares to throw the chair over backward if those axes start to fly.

"A few turns on the rack, a while with the cat 'o nine tails... Unless you have other suggestions?" The black panther notes with a malicious smirk on his snout, tails swaying behind him.

"Now then... Any information we /don't/ already have?" he rumbles with a raise of his brow, throwing another knife, this time just barely nicking his ear and embedding it on a cheese-platter one of the maids is bringing to the table.

"Yow!" Fenris cries, then grins, "Look! You are already improving!" He tilts his head at the impaled cheese tray. "You hit that tray dead on!" he says, "I confess though, I don't much care for your choice in party games." The liger shrugs his shoulders. "As for information," he says, "How should I know? You are all really quite bad at asking questions." Fenris rocks the chair back and forth a little bit, just to try it out. "I mean, if you had asked, What is Flora's favorite drink? I could have told you. Or Where does Flora keep her embarassing pink nighty? I could have told you that too. But Tell us everything we don't know," Fenris does a passible imitation of Chuckles' voice, though it sounds a little goofy, "Well, that just isn't fair!"

"Fruitjuice. No alcohol. We're aware. As for the clothing, I would imagine her dresser," the black feline rumbles, another knife nicking an ear just lightly.

"As for you not caring about our... Party games. We are not particularly bothered. We'll talk again tomorrow, over dinner... For now, other matters," he growls softly.

The Lady gestures at Fenris for a moment, before the help hits the liger over the back of his head.