"Eye of the Beholder"

Log Date:
	5/17/99, 5/18/99, 5/20/99

Log Cast:
	Faanshi, Thomas, Woodchuck

Log Intro:
	Thomas Murako, leader of a group of Mongrels and other outcasts
who are joining together to form the new nation of Avalon, is a former slave
of Faanshi's mistress Kiera... and as such, has had cause to know firsthand
the compassionate nature hidden beneath the shudra healer's concealing
veil. Faanshi in her own turn has always been drawn to Thomas, one of the
first individuals in a still strange and daunting world who has shown her
kindness, and it is her knowledge of Thomas Murako that has led her to go in
search of him in the Gem Inn upon her receiving the news that he had 
returned to Haven.
	From that first visit has arisen an invitation from Thomas to
Faanshi to journey back to Avalon with him so that his people might have the
help of a healer for a time... an opportunity which the innocent maiden has
taken to heart and now wishes to pursue. Anxious to help people in need,
people who would not necessarily turn away her untrained halfbreed power,
she has since sought out her wayward mistress. Kiera Khalida has proven 
recalcitrant about the idea, reluctant to let Faanshi more than a day's trip
away from Haven... and suspicious of the motives of Thomas Murako.
	Now, with instructions from Kiera to find Thomas again and acquire
answers to certain questions, Faanshi returns to the Gem Inn, bringing with
her her recently acquired little canine friend, Kosha...

----------
The Gem Inn - Haven
         Muted jewel colours decorate this large, square room. The walls are 
  of a highly polished golden brown oak with colourful tapestries of Varati 
  history hanging from them in regular intervals and large windows, deeply 
  set, sporting coloured glass. The floor is mostly covered by several plush 
  wool carpets in saffron yellow and cayenne red, squeaky clean despite this 
  being the restaurant room of the inn.
        A big portrait of a summer scene from the Varati mountains hangs over 
  the bar mirror, nearly covering that entire short side of the room. The bar 
  is a sturdy old oak thing, the surface nearly as reflective as the mirror, 
  apart from some nicks and scrapes through the varnish. From the ceiling 
  hangs a black wrought-iron chandelier with thick beeswax candles in it, 
  scenting the air with a light waft of honey.
        The rest of the smells in here are mainly from the exquisite foodsorts 
  being prepared, spices, sweet and strong, along with dried fruit and herbs 
  lingering in the very wood of the inn.
        <OOC>:Places are available.
Contents:
Thomas        
Obvious Exits:
Small Door <SD>  Spiral Staircase <Up>  Out <O> 

Morning in the Gem Inn, and the staff is up and about, distributing orders of 
  breakfast to those who are paying out monies to stay beneath the roof of 
  this establishment, or who have merely come in off the street in search of a 
  meal they don't need to cook themselves. Although the place might not be so 
  lively as in the evening, when Haven-dwellers are more prone to gathering 
  for socializing, still there is a fair amount of activity going on... enough 
  to daunt one young woman who slips in timidly through the front doors, a 
  small fluffy puppy carried in her arms. The maiden keeps her attention 
  mostly pointed downward as she enters the establishment; the puppy, however, 
  has no such compunctions, and he looks around with bright hopeful brown eyes 
  at everything he sees. And smells. The smells! Surely there's food here? In 
  fact, that little dog yaps excitedly as a serving maid passes nearby, 
  causing the woman to turn and eye the creature askance. Once she drops off 
  the platter she'd been conveying to a patron's table, the waitress spins 
  round and returns to the shy one in blue and red and gold, and the 
  waitress's voice lifts up in a demand to know why the puppy has been brought 
  into the building.

Known to be an early riser, Thomas Murako is a familiar face in the common 
  room of the Gem at this hour of the morning. Currently seated at the 
  medium-sized table off in a shady corner, the Mongrel holds before him a 
  steaming cup of kaffe -- the house specialty as this is a Varati-owned 
  establishment. The tavern isn't horribly full and the large frame of the man 
  seems to stand out quite notably, squeezed into the chair such as he is. 
  Raising the cup to his lips, he takes a sip of the hot liquid, his gaze 
  seemingly focused upon something on the table which from the door's vantage 
  is difficult to discern. Soon, the woman who only so recently deposited the 
  plate to a fellow patron's table, places a basket of biscuits before Thomas, 
  her voice carrying clearly towards the door and demanding to know why the 
  puppy is here. This draws his attention, being as she's standing almost next 
  to him, and his gaze lingers towards the source of the agitation, finding 
  Faanshi there with her new friend. He arches a darkened brow and looks to 
  the woman, "She's here to see me." Then speaks towards the shudra, "Faanshi, 
  please, come in and join me." Despite the distance between the two, his 
  voice carries clearly across the chamber in invitation. "I don't think the 
  pup is going to misbehave, Impdada. Why don't you bring us some meat and 
  I'll be sure to keep it busy?"

Two heads swivel round in the direction of the Mongrel man at his table. 
  Faanshi's green eyes go wide over her veil before she shyly ducks her head 
  towards her little canine; the waitress, unveiled, with a countenance fair 
  enough to make it obvious she's not Varati, nevertheless drops a polite 
  curtsey to Thomas and steps off to do as he asks. Left therefore by herself, 
  Faanshi slips towards the Mongrel's table, murmuring softly, "Thank you..."

Thomas's countenance remains level as the eyes fall upon his form, merely 
  taking another calm sip of his kaf. As the barmaid wanders off to retrieve 
  additional foodstuffs from the pantry, the Mongrel extends to her a brief, 
  "Thank you." and of course his trademark smile, so easily extended to the 
  woman and then turned upon the approaching halfbreed, hidden behind her 
  veil. When she has approached closely enough, he rises from his chair in a 
  gentlemanly gesture, "Please, sit, Faanshi. Can I offer you some biscuits or 
  some kaffe?" His darkened gaze lingers towards the puppy you carry with you, 
  "I see you have a new friend as well?"

Food? Is that food over there? Ooh, can he have some? Wait, who's that? The 
  puppy's liquid gaze fixes alertly on Thomas as Faanshi draws near, and an 
  insquistive little 'whuff' escapes the creature. "His name is Kosha," 
  murmurs the shudra girl, momentarily peeking up at the tall young man, 
  before she obediently lowers herself into another of the chairs at the 
  table. Not entirely sure whether she should sit there at the table holding 
  the little creature, Faanshi considers, and then bends over in her chair to 
  place the puppy on the floor. He has a rope tied lightly around his neck, 
  and the young healer occupies herself tying the rope's opposite end to one 
  of the table legs. This may well be an excuse to avoid looking Thomas in the 
  eye... but then, one can't have a puppy on the tabletop, aye? She does, at 
  any rate, add earnestly, "I do not want to take away from your meal... 
  Kosha, sit now...."

You release Kosha, who leaps out of your arms.

Kosha
This is a small puppy, though from the look of his long, loppy ears and his 
  oversized paws, it is doubtful whether he will remain small forever. He 
  sports fluffy, particolored fur that seems to be made for no other purpose 
  than attracting dirt, burrs, and any other manner of detritus and debris; 
  his tail is a proud plume almost constantly in wagging motion, along with 
  the rest of him. Liquid but alert brown eyes hold a promise of intelligence, 
  if anyone can actually manage to distract this beast from his prospensity 
  for mischief and play.

As the puppy jumps to the floor, Thomas' gaze follows its movements with an 
  open curiousity and mild amusement, "Kosha." He repeats the dog's name just 
  to get the feel of it, "That's a very nice name and a very handsome-looking 
  animal." Leaning back slowly in his chair, at length, the man's eyes move 
  off the dog and upon you, even though your demure gaze has found the table's 
  edge far more interesting. There is a moment of silence that seems quite 
  comfortable, and before he can speak, the barmaid returns with a steaming 
  plate of meat -- some breasts, legs, and a few slices of other unidentfiable 
  parts. "Thank you." the large man's voice intones towards the woman, who 
  nods to him and then withdraws once again. "You aren't interrupting 
  anything, Faanshi. I was just doing some reading .." ..and you can see lying 
  upon the table a few scrolls that have tiny, stylistic writing upon them. 
  Very hard to read from a distance. " ..I welcome the company at this hour. 
  Not many people can summon the strength to join me. But, it was clear you 
  came here for some purpose?" His gaze becomes speculative, curious, "Did you 
  give what we talked about some more thought?" As he speaks, the Mongrel 
  reaches out to push the plate of meat in your direction, "Kosha must be 
  hungry, why don't you give him something to eat?"

As far as Kosha is concerned, "feeding the puppy" is a most excellent idea. 
  Still, though, he yaps brightly as Thomas pronounces his name, and his tail 
  starts to wag. That wagging picks up velocity, however, as his eyes and nose 
  fasten upon that platter of meat. The puppy first parks in front of Thomas, 
  as he is the recipient of that wonderful-smelling source of Food, and only 
  when it is shoved across the table to Faanshi does the little beast hop over 
  to her chair, sitting down on his haunches and gazing up at her with intense 
  hope reflected in his liquid doggy eyes.

Faanshi, under Thomas's scrutiny, still keeps her head modestly bowed... 
  though the Mongrel might chance to notice how the maiden's gaze softens at 
  the puppy's shameless begging for food. She has not accepted nourishment for 
  herself, but she does for her little friend, and for a moment she calls up 
  the courage to flash a glance at the man across the table, green eyes 
  expressing a gratitude almost as unalloyed as that of the hound's. "Thank 
  you," she murmurs again, as she reaches for a small portion of the meat and 
  turns to let Kosha nibble it out of her fingers. As Thomas speaks on, her 
  head turns slightly back towards him, and her gaze steals across the array 
  of scrolls... and stays there. Green eyes go a little wider, and the only 
  thing Faanshi can think of to say is a marvelling, "You can _read_..."

"Yes, quite well." Thomas answers your astonishment with a glance towards the 
  parchments to his right, "I've managed to uncover some rather interesting 
  historical documents relating to the settlement of the lowlands by the 
  peoples of Aether. It is very difficult to read as it is in a more ancient 
  dialect than I am used to reading, but thus far I've managed to learn a 
  great deal about how the earliest people's settled their lands and 
  administered their governments." Reaching down, he takes the kaf into hand 
  and raises it to his lips, apparently content to speak while you feed Kosha. 
  At length, his gaze lingers back towards you and the puppy, a small smile 
  coming to him, "Seems as if he's a hungry one this morning? Then again that 
  meat smells rather good." Inhaling deeply, the Mongrel leans back into his 
  chair a bit, taking his gaze from the paper and letting it remain upon you 
  completely, "I am hoping that these parchments will be the key to helping me 
  with the tasks that face our people. Admittedly, many have very little 
  experience with governmental administration and it will be hard to keep 
  things from degenerating into utter chaos." Almost as if catching himself, 
  Murako shakes his head slowly, "I'm sorry, Faanshi. This must be dreadfully 
  boring. What was it you wished to come here to speak to me about?"

If there is a word to describe Faanshi's reaction to her companion's 
  expounding upon the nature and purpose of the scrolls before him, 'bored' is 
  not it. Awestruck, the maiden drinks in the words... and more importantly, 
  the manner in which they are delivered, as if... well, as if a lowly shudra 
  halfbreed could hope to comprehend ideas and goals that sound as though they 
  should be exchanged between scholars... or leaders. Her gaze involuntarily 
  lifts, full of wonder, and she breathes, "Not boring... no!"

Given a small meaty haunch by his mistress, Kosha blissfully seizes it between 
  his paws and proceeds to do his best to rip it into shreds. As he is 
  equipped only with a puppy's teeth, this operation promises to take him a 
  while, and involves many noises of slurping and growling coming up from the 
  floor. Of the three living creatures at this table, the dog is clearly not 
  interested in matters of reading.

Thomas's eyes remain upon you, even as the pup tears into the scraps of food 
  that it is offered, his hands coming to fold upon his lap. "Well, even if it 
  is not boring, it certainly is off the topic that you came to speak about." 
  Arching an eyebrow, he studies you even closer for a moment before speaking 
  up, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were avoiding speaking on it?" 
  Still, the Mongrel man waits with an uncanny patience, his kaffe now having 
  grown only like warm and about half finished.

To this, Faanshi lets out a little noise that might be one of chagrin, though 
  it is hard to tell with most of her face concealed by the azure veil... and 
  the immediate plunging of her gaze. "Forgive me," she murmurs tinily. "I, I 
  didn't mean to ignore the question, it is just that... you speak so... 
  _well_, but you are right, Kosha is very hungry... I did not feed him yet 
  today... because... I wanted to come and talk to you..." Quite the rush of 
  words for this bashful maiden, and they are put forth in a nervous whisper, 
  even as she turns her gaze down to watch the dog trying to devour a hunk of 
  meat almost as big as his own head.

The Mongrel merely smiles as you speak, nodding his head but strangely not 
  adding anything of his own. Thomas knows that sometime, you /will/ answer 
  that question, that being the crux of your visit to him. As you have stated, 
  it is clear that his speech somehow enraptures, so he demonstrates none of 
  it to distract you from your purpose. Reaching forward, he takes the mug 
  into his hand and sips some of the luke-warm liquid. Remaining relaxed in 
  the chair, his gaze remains level upon your small, shy frame. In the 
  interposing silence, the chewing sounds of Kosha are clearly audible.

And indeed, patience pays off. Faanshi, thus encouraged although she doesn't 
  look up, goes on softly, "I have thought much about it... and prayed to 
  Khalid Atar and his holy Mother... for guidance in what I should do." Slim 
  golden hands come up to clasp at her breast, fingers interwined. The maiden 
  continues hesitantly, clearly not at all certain how her thoughts will be 
  received, "B-before you came back to Haven... it had seemed to me that I 
  should... try to learn how to use my magic, and because I have no 
  teacher..." For a moment she trails off. When she resumes, her voice has 
  gone even softer, distant. "My heart-mother h-has gone to be reborn in the 
  service of the Amir-al, and Imphada Aurora has to be Empyress now... so... 
  so I have tried to go out into Haven... and heal people. But the Amir-al 
  said that I-I should also serve Imphada Kiera and..."

Thomas listens intently as you recant the difficult nature of making his 
  decision and clearly he can see that this is not easy for you. And rightly 
  so. Certainly there are many powers in this realm that would see you remain 
  loyal to them, and the oaths which have already been made, should not be 
  broken. The Mongrel man raises his hand to silence you for just a moment, 
  "Faanshi. I know that this decision is not an easy one for you. I know that 
  your duties to Imphada Kiera are important and that you have made an oath to 
  the Amir-Al. I also know that Khalid Atar takes his oaths very seriously, 
  and violation of that would mean very severe punishment, or perhaps even 
  death." A brief pause as his gaze continues to be level upon you, "I am not 
  going to ask that you violate these oaths or any promises which you have 
  made to either Imphada Kiera or the Amir-Al. You may come along us for as 
  long as you like and leave whenever it pleases you. Imphada Kiera might come 
  and visit anytime she likes and will be provided for as an honored guest of 
  mine." Leaning back once again, he refolds his hands, seemingly relaxed, "As 
  for your teaching, I am certain I could locate another who might be able to 
  help you hone your arts and talents. I've many friends among the Delphi and 
  other groups who possess magic. Have no fear that you will be well provided 
  for in such areas, if you desire it."

Faanshi catches that lifted hand out of the corner of her eye, and immediately 
  goes silent. She remains thus as long as Thomas addresses her, only the 
  slight turn of her head in his direction signalling that she is indeed 
  listening. Once he finishes, she still holds her tongue, for several 
  moments; at last, though, she murmurs out, eyes on the tabletop, "I found 
  Imphada Kiera and I... asked her if I may go with you... but she said that I 
  should ask you how far away the place is... that you would take me?"

There is consideration in Thomas' gaze, and for a moment it wanders towards 
  the sound of a small group of men entering the tavern. Flicking towards 
  their boots resonating upon the floor and those gruff voices. He speaks 
  despite his lack of attentiveness, "Avalon is perhaps two or three day's 
  flight from here. By horse, a little less than a week. Foot, about twice 
  that long." The Mongrel's dark eyes find you once again, then slide down 
  towards Kosha just for a moment, "It pleases me that Kiera said you might go 
  with us, though I am admittedly curious why she was concerned how far away 
  you were going? And .." ..he clears his throat to clarify something, "..I'm 
  not taking you anywhere, Faanshi. You are going of your own volition and 
  under your own power. Is that clear?"

As the inn's common room continues to fill up, Faanshi seems to huddle in on 
  herself ever so slightly, especially when the group of men comes in through 
  the entrance. Kosha snaps his head up and around, reacting to the new noises 
  and voices, and a little 'grrr' escapes him before he realizes that these 
  incoming persons have no interest in his breakfast. With the focus only a 
  hungry puppy can achieve, the little animal promptly resumes mauling his 
  chunk of meat. His mistress, meanwhile, whispers fervently, "I tried to 
  explain to her that _I_ want to go... so very much!" Consternation enters 
  her soft voice, though, and consternation can be glimpsed in her veiled 
  profile, at least in the subtle tightening of the skin around her eyes. And 
  then she adds in a childlike matter-of-fact-ness, "Perhaps I did not explain 
  it very well... I do not speak well like you, Thomas."

"You explained it well enough, Faanshi, but I do not want Imphada Kiera to 
  think that I am taking you somewhere in an attempt to remove you from her 
  care." Thomas' eyes grow clearly wider as he leans forward to rest his large 
  hands upon the table's surface, "I want her to understand that this is a 
  decision you came to on your own and is something that you wish to do in 
  order to expand your knowledge and abilities. Clearly, Kiera is entrenched 
  with her own affairs and does not have the time to devote to these efforts. 
  I, however, do." Pausing for a moment, he exhales and looks briefly towards 
  the parchments that are lain out before him, "If you wish, I could write her 
  a letter and explain unto her my desires and reasoning? Perhaps that will 
  help in waylaying the fears she may have at releasing you into my care?" 
  Turning to look upon you once again, he nods his head, "I wish you to 
  journey with us as well. But I know that Kiera can be very protective of 
  what is hers. She is stubborn like that. Perhaps hearing it from my mouth 
  will assist in her granting you leave to do as you please."

The girl goes still. And then her head turns fully around again, lifting ever 
  so slightly, just enough that that demure leaf-colored gaze can peek up in 
  wonder and uncertain hope towards the Mongrel man. "I... I saw paper and 
  pen... on your desk, before," she blurts all at once. "I... thought perhaps 
  I would ask you to write to the Khalid Atar s-so that He would know where I 
  have gone and that I will not abandon Him... you would write for me, to 
  Imphada Kiera?"

Thomas's hand almost unconciously shifts closer to the papers as he considers 
  this. His gaze averts for a moment, drifting down towards the tabletop, "I 
  can do this." The Mongrel answers simply and then falls into a brief 
  silence. "Though I know Amir-Al is deeply busy with affairs of state. Why 
  don't I write you a letter to give to Kiera, and if Khalid Atar demands a 
  further explaination of your desires, then you might return to me and I will 
  furnish you with a second?" One of those thick brows arches as his hand 
  slides to grasp a piece of rolled up parchment amid the small pile of 
  others. Thick fingers unroll and his eyes scan the surface to determine that 
  it is blank. Reaching inside his tunic, he takes out a small leather pouch 
  which he promptly sets on the tabletop. It appears as if the man is making 
  ready to write the aforementioned documentation right here and now. "I trust 
  you can find Imphada Kiera and deliver this to her attention? I have no idea 
  where she might be found." 

Faanshi might be veiled, hiding what expression might hold sway on the 
  lower half of her countenance, but there is an undeniable brightening in her 
  big green eyes and a subtle straightening of her slender frame in the chair 
  in which she sits. "I can find Imphada Kiera again, I... I think," she 
  agrees, sounding much like a hopeful, eager little girl. And then she stops. 
  And she visibly wilts, the shy soft light draining out of her eyes as 
  quickly as it had come. "But... Imphada Kiera... she... oh, I forgot. She 
  cannot read!"

Gobble. Gobble gobble gobble gobble! Kosha is making excellent headway on that 
  meat he's been given, puppy teeth and puppy tongue not only gnawing the 
  flesh from the bone, but quite cheerfully going to work on the bone itself 
  to get every morsel possible out of this unexpected bounty. Every so often 
  the little fellow peeks warily up to survey his surroundings, his paws 
  curled protectively around his steadily shrinking prize, and never mind that 
  he's not exactly the size to seriously defend it against any creature, 
  four-legged or two-legged, who might choose to take it from him.

Thomas's lips, unveiled, purse at the concept of Kiera's inability to read. It 
  is hard to transfer a message to someone who cannot understand the text. His 
  fingers toy with the edges of the parchment for a moment as he considers the 
  quandry, "Is there another who could accompany you and read it for her, 
  Faanshi? Perhaps one of the Heralds could deliver it? I know that they 
  provide a service which will transmit letters and read them aloud for those 
  to whom they are delivered." The dog's activities seem to have been 
  completely lost to this man, who's attentions are now focused on events at 
  hand. Reaching down, he removes a small bottle of ink from the depths of the 
  bag, and with it, a small quill-like writing instrument that is far less 
  decorative though no less effective. Smoothing out the scroll, he readies to 
  write his hand upon the surface, but pauses before doing so, looking up, "Do 
  you think you could manage finding someone who could handle this for you?"

Faanshi's gaze lowers again as she murmurs only, "I will try."

There is no response offered before the Mongrel begins to write upon the 
  parchment, save a small nod. Then, he sets to work, first dipping the 
  quill-like object into the inkwell and hesitating just a moment before his 
  hand begins to slide across the page, putting to words, his thoughts. "I am 
  going to make it clear to Kiera my wishes and do my best to explain where we 
  are going." Thomas' hand moves quickly and with a certain flare that makes 
  his writing seem not only effective, but very firm, "I will also explain to 
  her what kind of duties you will be expected to do, and reaffirm that all of 
  your previous loyalties will remain untouched." Silencing for another 
  moment, he hesitates on one particular word, taking that time to re-dip his 
  writing instrument in the black liquid. After what seems like a long time, 
  and about half of the parchment full of his neat, stylized writing, your 
  tablemate looks up towards you, "Have you wished to learn to do this?" 
  Clearly he means to write as he does, and read as well. "I can teach you, 
  you know?"

Woodchuck enters from the street.
Woodchuck has arrived.

All throughout Thomas's efforts with his pen, Faanshi does not speak; she 
  does, however, steal timid little glances at the actions of his hand as it 
  guides the writing instrument along the paper. The simple act of writing 
  seems to mesmerize her, and once the Mongrel speaks again, she starts as if 
  he'd just shouted her name in her ear. "You... would? You would teach me?" 
  Shock brings her gaze up again, adds a hint of volume to her usually muted 
  voice.

In the midst of the busy inn, one man (seated), one maiden (also seated), and 
  one small dog (on the floor trying to gnaw a bone in half with his tiny 
  puppy teeth) don't stand out too much... especially the maiden, as she is 
  garbed in raiment that seems at home with the Varati-style decor of the 
  common room. What might attract an onlooker's eye, however, is the scrolls 
  that lie on the table between man and maid, and the vigorous enthusiasm with 
  which the puppy, Kosha, is striving to kill his prey of the hour (the bone). 
  He's about got it slain, that puppy. Determined little fellow, isn't he?

Inward opens the door, and inwards enters the Sylve. Oh, he's been here 
  before. And he has been kicked out of here before, but yet he remains a 
  faithful patron. Scampering in, the small form of the sylve turns to the 
  left, then the right. Jade orbs search around for a place to sit, untill 
  landing on Thomas. Now here an interesting victi....er, acquaintance of 
  Woodchuck, and the tall man has once again struck the attention of the 
  sylve. "My word! If it isn't Tommy Murako himself, in the flesh and with his 
  puppy dog!" the man chuckles, small feet carrying him closer.

Thomas nods to the shudra woman across from him, a small smile formulating on 
  his lips as he considers his offer, "I would indeed. If you are given leave 
  by Kiera to join us, I would be pleased to take you as my student." He 
  gestures towards the paper with his writing instrument and shrugs his 
  shoulders gently, "I must admit that my skills are somewhat meager, but I 
  will do my best to be as good a teacher as I can." It is about this time 
  that the jovial entrance of Woodchuck is heralded by the announcement of 
  "Tommy's" name. There is a pause as the large Mongrel turns an increasingly 
  arching brow towards the Sylvan entertainer. "Woodchuck is it?" Yes, he 
  clearly remembers this man from before, and that is heard in his voice. 
  While, his tone wouldn't quite imply the two were on good terms, they are 
  familiar with each other. The mention of the dog causes him to look down at 
  Kosha, so eagerly chewing on the bone, "Mine?" Now a soft chuckle issues 
  from his lips as he studies the animal, "No, I'm afraid not, my friend. 
  Kosha belongs to the lovely, Faanshi, who sits across from me. Faanshi, this 
  is Woodchuck. He's one of Haven's entertaining troupe. Self proclaimed to be 
  among the greatest." With his free hand he gestures between the two in 
  introduction.

The dog in question lifts up his fluffy head, peering sharply at the 
  approaching individual. A noise somewhere between yap and whuff is his hail 
  to the stranger, as well as his warning that the bone is his. In order to 
  emphasize that point, Kosha clamps his teeth around his prize, along with 
  his front paws.

Faanshi's reaction to Thomas's offer, in the meantime, is easily read even 
  with her features veiled. Her eyes take on an abrupt glow of amazed 
  gratitude, and she ventures forth a timid hand towards the scroll nearest 
  her... only to start at the hearty call of the Sylvan coming near. Her gaze 
  immediately darts away, plummeting down to the pup on the floor. 
  "N-namaste', Imphadi Woodchuck," is all she manages to say, and that very 
  softly.

Woodchuck looks to Faanshi, blinking a bit. "Oh, Fanny? Your under all of that 
  clothing? My word, I didn't even recognize you. That's the problem with 
  Varati women..." he says, looking back to Thomas. "..so much good flesh to 
  show but too much clothes to show it. It's a damn shame..." he smiles, 
  clarifying for Thomas. "I have met this lovely lady before...and if I am not 
  mistaken, she owes me for some information. But I will hardly hold it 
  against her, a favor owed is better than one thousand coins if you ask me!" 
  he nods, just rambling on as usual.

Thomas's face sours almost instantly at Woodchuck's words, and the writing 
  instrument in his hand is set down upon the table's surface. "Excuse me?" 
  The large man rises from the chair and takes a few steps which take him 
  almost instantly closer to the smaller Sylvan. His face is stern and his 
  brows knitted. If one didn't know better, they'd say that the Mongrel became 
  quite defensive of the young woman when the comedian apparently insulted 
  her honor. Stopping before him, his shadow falls long and dark, words coming 
  soon after, "Don't you think that was a little out of line, friend?" His 
  hand gestures towards the /very/ shy girl which sits at his table, "Faanshi 
  is one of the most virtuous people I know, I see no reason you have to go 
  and insult her honor like that." Tilting his head to the side, he seems 
  scolding, without seeming /overly/ brutish. "She owes you a debt, eh? Well, 
  consider that debt to be mine now. I will pay it back in the amount which is 
  in accordance of the information that was given." A pause as he reaches out 
  to place a firm paw upon the other man, "I trust you don't have any problems 
  with this?"

Blink. What did he say? The sylve shivers a bit, eyes creeping up the mountain 
  of a man before him, being restrained by that meaty paw on his shoulder. 
  "Um...er...eh...uhm..." he chuckles nervously, hand going to tug at his 
  collar. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?" another nervous giggle. 
  "I...I wasn't insulting her honor, no sir...just complimenting her on her 
  wonderful...taste of clothing? I mean she is clearly a beautiful woman under 
  all of that garb, and all..." A toothy smile is flashed to the large man. 
  "And sure, if you want to hold the favor it is fine with me, but I do not 
  plan to collect on it quite yet..." Gulp. "I mean, if that is okay with you 
  and all, Tom..." a small hand goes to pat the big man on the chest 
  reassuringly.

The girl in question, who'd already timidly ducked her gaze when Thomas Murako 
  had called her "lovely" -- and who'd become acutely grateful for the fact 
  that her veil conceals the hot blush darkening her cheeks -- cringes back in 
  unthinking reaction when the Mongrel surges up to his feet. When the two men 
  face off, however, she puts in in tremulous, pleading tones, "P-please... 
  please, do not fight!" Were this any other man but Thomas Murako, she would 
  have held her tongue, convinced that it is not her place to try to dissuade 
  a man from any course of action he might choose to undertake. Even now, she 
  speaks with distinct hesitance as she blurts out to the big Mongrel man, 
  "I-Imphadi Woodchuck... told me you were not in Haven, before...!"

"'So much good flesh to show?'" Thomas keeps his eyebrows knitted as he tries 
  to comprehend the exact meaning of Woodchuck's statement. His words mimic 
  the other man's earlier statement. "Don't you think that's a little 
  derogatory? Sounds kind of like she's a piece of meat. Maybe some sort of 
  an object to be gawked at. Now I know you don't mean to treat her like that, 
  and frankly I think I'm doing /you/ a favor simply because she's Kiera 
  Khalida's charge. If she were to get wind you talked to her like that, 
  well..." ...Murako's words fade off as he glances towards the Sylvan's 
  shoulder, releasing it and carefully fixing the cloth back to its original 
  shape, "..I don't think I could hold myself responsible for whatever might 
  happen. Kiera's been known to do all sorts of nasty things to men who've 
  offended her." Taking a step back, the Mongrel shakes his head almost as if 
  he was disappointed in some way, "I once heard a story that she skinned a 
  man /alive/ for merely looking at her in a suggestive manner. Said it took 
  him three days to die, and by the end the buzzards were peckin' out his 
  eyes. Damn shame." There is a long period silence and then a sudden inhale 
  of breath, "So, Woodchuck, being as I've been kind enough to keep this just 
  between us, do you think you could call /our/ debt an even one? One friend 
  to another, that is. You have such fine-looking eyes, I'd hate to see those 
  go to waste."

A horrified little noise escapes Faanshi, then, at the notion of Kiera having 
  skinned a still-living man. Thomas might be uttering those words for the 
  purposes of suitably intimidating the Sylvan, but the girl in the veil is 
  not exactly immune to such graphic imagery. She visibly flinches, her head 
  turning sharply away from the two men, her arms wrapping around herself.

Woodchuck blinks, getting a bit afraid. Why is it that all of the big people 
  need to have the short tempers. "Oh, that was quite my mistake, good sir! I 
  was raised by and with Cyprians, good sir, and my speech must still reflect 
  that aspect of my background. What I meant was that there is such a 
  beautiful and charming lady over there, and underneath the clothing 
  symbolizing how meek the girl is...uhm...just saying that it is a shame that 
  she dosn't express more of her opinions?" a nervous titter follows that 
  statement. Yeah, that's the ticket. Ears perk up a bit at something else 
  said. "Wow, so with the gouging of the eyes...and the skinning alive...ooh 
  and dont forget Lin's keelhauling that she still owes me...and the smashed 
  face that Jen was gonna give me...about 25 times now?" he looks to Thomas, 
  as if that man would have any idea of what the sylve speaks about. Finally 
  he nods. "Yep, 26 death threats so far...if you think that the gouging and 
  the skinning spook me...well..." Eyes look up the TALL man, even more so for 
  the diminutive sylve. "...well I'd be terribly horrified, sir" he giggles, 
  not bothering to comment on the favor portion. he dosn't like giving 
  anything away to threats, no matter how much they spook him.

Thomas straightens just a touch, a small smile coming to his face, "Take it as 
  you wish, Woodchuck. There's a difference between a threat and a friendly 
  warning. Me? I'm not the threatening type, but I do know people and I know 
  that /some/ take their duties more seriously than others. And their charges. 
  Kiera happens to be one of those, and her understanding of things such as 
  life and death, or the value of it therin, is ..." ..he pauses and turns 
  back towards Faanshi's table, where the shudra now cowers most obviously, 
  "...rudimentary at best. See, I have no qualm against you making a living, 
  or you being raised by Cyprians. Frankly if I were to criticize you for 
  being the way you were, I'd be a hypocrite. I'm just trying to keep you from 
  adding number twenty seven to your list. Thus far you've been lucky those 
  were idle threats, but I know people who make those same words and will 
  carry them out." Seating himself in the chair with a slight groan, he 
  exhales slowly and rests his hand on the table's edge. "Faanshi? I apologize 
  for being so grotesque. I assure you that was only a rumor. Most rumors are 
  completely false. I know Kiera to be an honorable woman who would never 
  deliberately do something as cruel as that."

There is something deeply amiss with this tableau -- aside from, that is, 
  references to the gouging of eyes and the removal of still-living skin. 
  Several adjectives describing Faanshi have been exchanged between the two 
  men now; the least-used one, 'meek', is assuredly apt, for had she not been 
  raised under the stark, cold eye of the Warlord Hashim? And it is the 
  aptness of that word that brings a flame of discomfort to the girl's cheeks 
  regarding the other words, hidden though they are by her veil. She nods 
  tinily at Thomas's apology to her, though she does not meet his eyes, and 
  her voice sounds shaken as she whispers, "Yes, Thomas... that is truth, 
  but... but you and Imphadi Woodchuck are mistaken about--" And then she 
  catches herself, ingrained breeding against contradicting men cutting off 
  the words before she can finish uttering them. The maiden finishes uneasily, 
  "I-I mean... if you and Imphadi Woodchuck must speak... I will go... if you 
  wish it...."

Woodchuck nods a bit, not looking quite convinced of any threat anymore. "Well 
  that's good. I'd quite hate to think how people would think of you if you 
  threatened to gouge the eyes from another important figure in the community 
  such as myself. I mean, you wish to keep your reputation as clean as 
  possible, correct? And speaking of yourself in league with ruffians and 
  scoundrels that may do the same...well that isn't good for political 
  stance...I know for a fact that it is all about public relations in this 
  business..." he smiles, arms crossing over his chest. "Which is why -you- 
  are just the man that I was looking for."

As Faanshi speaks, Thomas' eyes are riveted to the young woman's plight. His 
  hand reaches out as if to touch her, but he does not, rather resting his 
  hand against the table's center in a concilatory fashion. "I do not wish you 
  to go. Woodchuck and I are merely engaged in some friendly banter. Nothing 
  so serious as we need utter privacy." A sidelong glance is cast towards the 
  Sylvan joined by an affirmative nod to assert that these words he speaks are 
  at least outwardly true, "Why don't you join us at the table here, friend?" 
  With his foot, he slides out a chair to the booth at which he and the shudra 
  sit. "Faanshi was just going to explain how we were wrong in our previous 
  statements." The Mongrel man does what people in /her/ society don't take 
  the time to. He actually reverses conversation to allow her to speak, rather 
  than forcing her to be silent, "We can chat in just a few moments on my 
  state of 'public relations', I'm certain." And then, his darkened gaze finds 
  the woman across the table from him once again.

Woodchuck shrugs and finds his chair, small form plopping down on it. Feet go 
  to rest upon the table, not in anyones paticular way. "Well then, by all 
  means, do speak up miss!" he exclaims, grinning broadly.

Thomas is not the only creature around the table taking note of Faanshi's 
  apparent unease. Kosha looks up from his bone at the girl's nervous tone, 
  and tilts his fuzzy head at her measuringly before deciding that his 
  mistress looks like someone who could use a puppy in her lap. Having reached 
  this firm resolution, he abandons his bone and jumps up to place his front 
  paws on her leg, meat-greased though they might be. Big liquid eyes and a 
  wagging tail complete Kosha's version of proffered comfort... and the maiden 
  responds to the little creature rather more easily than she has done thus 
  far to Thomas. She leans down deftly to take the puppy up into her arms, and 
  Kosha delightedly endeavors to nudge his nose under her veil, tail wagging 
  all the while. With her face pointed down at her pet, and her hands stroking 
  restlessly at his fur, Faanshi murmurs in a short, swift rush, "I am not 
  beautiful."

Thomas keeps his gaze heavily upon Faanshi and shakes his head, "Don't say 
  such things, Faanshi." The large Mongrel shifts a bit in his seat, almost as 
  if he was uncomfortable with the girl's statement. Softly he clears his 
  throat, but does not avert his eyes, "I know that they are not true. My 
  words may only be those of a once-naraki Mongrel, but you have a gift of 
  kindness that I have seen in few others." Looking over towards Woodchuck for 
  a brief moment, he smiles to the Sylvan man, "Besides, Woodchuck, here 
  wouldn't lie about such things, would you 'Chuck?" Reaching one hand over, 
  he gives the man a light pat upon his back as if to encourage him to chime 
  in and help him out here. It would seem almost obvious that Murako, for all 
  his skill at politics and speaking, is floundering here when it comes to 
  spouting words about this girl's beauty. Leader, yes. Romantic, perhaps not.

Woodchuck nods, probably being the most romantic one of the three. That isn't 
  saying much of this group, not by a longshot. "Um...um...yeah! The minute 
  you step outside, the sun grows instantly jealous..." Hrm. Think, think. 
  "Your eyes shine like the..." hmm, what color -are- her eyes, anyway? 
  "...Um...purest stones! Yeah! And...Your teeth are as white...as bones 
  bleached in the desert sun!" Okay, that last one was sort of lacking, but 
  Woody is not a guy to be in many situations where lines like that could be 
  used.

How, wonders Faanshi to herself, did this conversation get directed down this 
  path? Deeply embarrassed, deeply troubled, she cradles Kosha close to her 
  breast, closing her eyes over her veil lest she have to meet the solicitious 
  gazes of the two men at the table. "Please," she whispers, "do not... do not 
  say such things..." She shakes her sari-covered head, with an anxious 
  vehemence unusual for this demure young maiden. The puppy in her arms 
  whimpers a little at her tone, trying to console her, but does not prevent 
  her from adding swiftly, "They a-are not important... and if you have 
  business to discuss, please... ignore me...!"

Bleached bones? He'd probably be better writing his own love poems. Thomas 
  merely gets this very blank, disbelieving look upon his face as Woodchuck 
  probably overdoes it, and then well, he underdoes it, "Um, yeah, 'Chuck." 
  Shaking his head, the Mongrel looks back towards Faanshi and manages to wear 
  a smile upon his face, "Nonsense. Woodchuck and I can discuss any business 
  we might have, another time. I'm certainly not going to ignore you." He 
  arches a brow and looks sidelong towards 'Chuck and exhales softly, "I'm 
  sorry, Faanshi, perhaps it was wrong for us to disrespect you in such a 
  fashion. I know how things are among the Varati, and how different all this 
  must seem to you. People like ..Woodhcuck here are not known in the places 
  where you live." He looks back upon the young maiden with a serious, almost 
  saddened eye, "It is my sincerest hope that you will be able to come among 
  my people and in doing so, perhaps we can learn a great deal about one 
  another." His darkened gaze drifts down towards the parchment, unfinished 
  before him, "Here, let me finish this so that you can bring it to Kiera. I 
  am eager to hear what she has to say on this matter." And with that, he 
  starts to write once again, dipping his writing instrument in the ink and 
  moving it swiftly across the page without a measure of hesitation.

"Yes, Thomas," Faanshi murmurs uneasily, more or less into her small canine 
  companion's fur. Fretfully, the girl's hands stroke at the dog, provoking 
  more vigorous waggings of Kosha's tail. It is a subtle thing, but as Thomas 
  writes, and as Kosha wags that plume of a tail, the fretful small movements 
  of the shudra's hands grow a little steadier, a little smoother. The puppy, 
  at any rate, is a source of comfort to this easily spooked young maiden.

Blink. Wait a minute...there was a reason why Woodchuck came here, and not 
  only has he now cheated being beaten up by Thomas and flattered Faanshi, the 
  conversation is oddly back to where it was when he entered. "Um.." he says, 
  coughing a bit nervously. Damn that Thomas, all big and strong and imposing, 
  making Woodchuck feel inferior. And the big guy cannot really be phased by 
  the utter wierdness of the sylve, either, which gives Woody less of an 
  advantage in this conversation. He's a bit uncomfortable at this fact, 
  obviously.

If Thomas is mindful of Woodchuck's discomfort, its not outwardly obvious. It 
  almost appears as if he's oblivious of that other's reactions to what he 
  does, his expressions changing little, nor seeking glee in a smaller person 
  cowering from him. Either the fool is /very/ naive about such things, or 
  he's more cunning than most in his manipulations. Which it is, is extremely 
  difficult to discern, "Yes, Woodchuck?" The Mongrel speaks as he puts the 
  last touches on the document before him. Not looking at the Sylvan 
  entertainer, he digs in that leather bag and pulls out some sand which he 
  promptly sprinkles on the whole of the parchment. Faanshi's reactions seemed 
  to get to him a bit more, he actually moving very swiftly to make certain 
  that she was well. Maybe its a female thing? Blowing the sand off the wet 
  ink, Murako waits to hear what will be said next.

Woodchuck shrugs a little, feet going to the floor and chair sliding up more. 
  Elbows, resting on the table, prop up the small head on the equally small 
  hands. "Well..." the sylvan boy says, breaking the short silence. "...As I 
  was saying, You can't really be in Haven forever, correct? I am sure there 
  are tons of hard-working people back in Avarat or whatever, and they need a 
  competent leader with them. If he spends all of his time in haven, they may 
  start to think less of them. But..." he grins widely. "...You know, I live 
  on the streets of Haven, and I do have connections. A lot of information 
  flows through me, and I have access to spread a lot of information..." he 
  nods to the big man, giving him a slight wink to further illustrate his 
  almost totally un-sublte hints.

Of the three male creatures around the table, it is arguably Kosha who seems 
  best skilled at the delicate task of soothing nervous halfbreed shudra 
  girls. The puppy very determinedly nuzzles against Faanshi's chest, his eyes 
  liquid with undisguised, uncritical adoration, his tail wagging with enough 
  force to generate a small breeze. With such devotion being showered upon 
  her, the maiden cannot help but relax, at least a trifle. It helps, she 
  tells herself, that the men at the table have turned their attention to 
  discussing matters beyond her ken -- and away from trying to shower words 
  upon her far better directed at ones whose faces have not provoked outright 
  disgust from the men of their kind. Faanshi quietly hugs her pet, her own 
  gaze softening over the top of her veil as she looks down at the little 
  creature. Then, she shifts his weight to one arm, and leans down to untie 
  his rope from the leg of the table. And lastly, she rises silently to her 
  feet.

By the time Woodchuck has finished, Thomas is rolling up the parchment and 
  preparing to seal it in place. The Mongrel examines the paper to make sure 
  that all is well with it, and smiles just a touch. If this is satisfaction 
  at the other's spoken words or with his work, is uncertain, "Your offer 
  sounds very intriguing, Woodchuck." He glances over at the man for a moment, 
  that smile persisting in an almost disturbing fashion, "Certainly we are 
  lacking ears on the streets of Haven, and one such as yourself certainly has 
  theirs to the ground better than many others. Admittedly, I'm interested, 
  and such efforts would be richly rewarded should we be able to reach an 
  agreement." Turning to look at Faanshi and Kosha, Murako hands the roll 
  towards her as she rises, "But, here isn't the place to settle that." A 
  pause as he speaks to the maiden, "Faanshi, this will provide Kiera with 
  everything she needs to know. When she's given her response, you can bring 
  it back to me, or I can meet her. However, I will be leaving Haven within a 
  week's time to make back for Avalon before the first crop. I would like you 
  to come with me."

Woodchuck nods towards Thomas. "You read me like a book, Tommy-boy. Just think 
  about my offer, and if I hear something, I'll find some way or another to 
  contact you..." the sylve giggles, loioking over to Faanshi. Well, at least 
  she is relaxed now, a bit. Blinking a bit, Woody quirks a brow at the two. 
  "Ahhhhhh" he says, with a knowing smile. "I see, I see...well then...I'll 
  just leave you two little lovebirds by yourselves to discuss whatever 
  departure plans you both have" he winks towards Thomas and stand from his 
  chair, taking a few steps back.

The shudra maiden loops her pet's rope around her forearm, and with Kosha 
  thusly propped against her shoulder, she drops a small curtsey to the seated 
  Mongrel man. For a moment, as she accepts the scroll, she risks a peek up at 
  his face, just long enough to give a glimpse of leaf-colored eyes full and 
  fervent with an inexpressible gratitude. "I hope to join you, if Imphada 
  Kiera will permit--" She cuts off, however, at Woodchuck's new words, her 
  gaze shooting downward again, her frame jolted with a visible start.

Thomas begins to place his materials back into the sack, preparing to leave 
  himself. Soon, the writing instrument and ink are inside the sack and it is 
  placed to his waist. After Woodchuck's phrasing, Faanshi is certainly 
  shocked to the core and though the words to not come to his lips, the stern 
  glance he gives the Sylvan would imply that he believes the poor girl's 
  suffered damage she could not recover from, "Faanshi and I are not lovers, 
  Woodchuck." The Mongrel rises from the table, his hands supporting the large 
  bulk of his frame. That's all he says on the matter of that, for to 
  acknowledge it anymore would be to give those words more creedence. Turning 
  towards the young maiden who is most likely horribly embarassed, he bows his 
  head, "I am dreadfully sorry, Faanshi. I hope we can speak again soon, and 
  that Imphada Kiera can see it in her heart to release you into my care. 
  Until then, be well." And next his gaze finds Woodchuck, "We will meet again 
  soon, Woodchuck. Keep yourself safe, and though I know this is like telling 
  a thief not to steal. Watch your tongue, lest it earn you unnecessary 
  trouble." And with that, he looks between both before leaving the table and 
  making his way across the bar towards the stairs to the second floor.

Woodchuck blinks shrugging. "I -guess-..." the sylve says, not quite 
  understanding what Tom meant. There is such a thing as not speaking your 
  mind? When was that technique developed? Woody certainly has never heard of 
  it before. The sylve just heads out, skipping towards the door.

Embarrassed? Well, that's putting it mildly. Faanshi is now blushing so 
  vividly that even the skin around her eyes, all that is visible of her 
  otherwise veiled visage, is flushed crimson. Not daring to meet Thomas's 
  eyes, not even daring to proffer a reply to his farewell, she can think
  of nothing except immediate escape... but only when the Sylvan has taken his 
  leave out the front door, and only when the Mongrel leader has made it to 
  the stairs, does the maiden gain enough composure to order her feet to carry 
  her far away... and swiftly. In moments, she and Kosha are gone.

[End log.]