| Logs |
2010 November 01
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
Smoke and Mirrors
There is much to do before the caravan can pass on through Roseville and then out into the great wilderness that is the Rocky Mountains. Small repairs must still be made. The provisions that were bought must be distributed and stored. Suraksha is quite busy shortly thereafter, although on a different project: she has a quiet talk with Buddy, then settles herself with Ohkwari and Fantine in her little work-area. Her question is simple: what can the two of them tell her about both defending themselves against manitou... or possibly even controlling or expelling them?
Dominic, once the involved conversation with Mr. Elliott is done, gets back together with his people, seeing to the stowage of all the goods picked up for delivery. He sends Daniel and Billy-Joe to deliver the provisions to the folks on the list that Sabrina helped make up. He does this all in earshot of Suraksha, though, curious as to her conversation with Okhwari. The big bear-man says, "Most manitou don't require protection. They... we... are mostly a benign lot usually. Wendigo are a different matter, but they are twisted." Fantine's small, musical voice chimes in, "Salt. Cedar and sage. Grind them together."
Suraksha nods thoughtfully to Fantine, "All right. Can you ask Buddy to take care of that?" She looks around, then adds, "Dominic, would you make sure everyone is organized into groups of no less than two and no more than six for tonight, and that in each group is one or more persons with those items, please?" To Ohkwari she smiles ruefully, "Do you mean most manitou don't necessitate people protecting themselves from the manitou? I've heard of appeasing or fleeing them, but I've not heard of how one can be... turned, so to speak? That's what I'm asking -- if he turns hostile for any reason, I want to be able to defend us until the morning."
Dominic nods agreeably to Suraksha's direction, and sets about passing the word. Chanticleer taps his chin. "Would it raise suspicions if we looked for those things here?"
Suraksha murmurs to Chanti, "We already have those items, dear."
Chanticleer says, "Ceder and sage, too, Lady? All right, then we won't have to look for them. I'll get started on grinding the ingredients together."
Okhwari smiles and takes out the simple clay pipe he carries, tamping sweet-scented tobacco into it and lighting a match to fire it up. He puffs carefully, breathing the smoke deep into his lungs, "Having some tobacco to offer could be wise. The salt, sage, and cedar could be used to create a barrier. A circle. We are in his territory. His land. If he is powerful and angry, holding him off until dawn is probably the best that can be done."
Suraksha thinks a bit, then adds, "Fantine, if we need to pull out garlic I may ask you to stay in the wagons tonight, so you're safe. Hmm... do we have any practicing christians amongst us? Also, I think I'll try blessing some holy water for us." She sighs a bit worriedly, rising, "With good fortune, this preparation will be completely unneeded... but I'm not going to have him walking amongst us without at least some attempts at defense."
Fantine smiles wanly, "Garlic has a very narrow range of effectiveness." Okhwari nods, "She's right. Garlic is not amongst the things that will protect you from a hostile manitou. I do not believe he is hostile. Wendigo are... easy to feel. They corrupt the very air through which they pass."
Suraksha nods silently, thinking. Finally she murmurs, "All right. We'll make the ground elements, and I'll have the holy water. Dominic will organize folks... and I'll just do my best to make sure he remains friendly." Her smile at Ohkwari is rueful, "Always makes my hackles stand up when I don't know how to defend family from strangers, though. Sorry."
Okhwari puffs his pipe and says, "It is understandable." He starts to stand, "Do you have more questions, little one?"
Suraksha adds absently to Chanti, "Yes, cedar and sage too -- they're part of sacred ceremonies for many peoples now. Thank you, dear." To Ohkwari she adds, "May I purchase some good tobacco from you, Ohkwa? I think I still have that lovely pipe you gave me."
Okhwari, who is normally quite generous, sells some of his personal stash of tobacco to Suraksha, "It is best to buy it, yes. That makes it something of a sacrifice."
Suraksha nods solemnly as she pulls out a small chunk of amber and swaps with the big man, "I remember, old friend. I hope you feel you've taught me well, over the years." She smiles, giving him a hug and a peck on the cheek when they're done, "I'll go bless some water next. Thank you, dear!"
Dominic has a thought then, as the gears of his mind churn slow, and he steps up after a minute, waiting for a space in the conversation to speak. "Lady, did I hear it correctly that this Manitou has a tie to the earth, here?"
Suraksha nods to Dominic, "I believe so, Dom. Why?"
Dominic spreads his hands. "After I'm done setting plates to spinnin', just thought maybe I'd have a look-see, wonder what the land is like here. Maybe that tells us something, hmm?"
Chanticleer, when he goes to get the salt and sage from Buddy, finds the burly cook is in a surly mood. The large man grunts, "Oughta put a circle of it all the way around us. Just leave a little door for him. Don't like creatures so wound up with the dark."
Chanticleer smiles reassuringly, "If we do that, Buddy, then we're likely to annoy more than a few more prospective customers! But it will be fine. He's had plenty of opportunities to cause us mischief, and he hasn't. Now we're ready for if he does."
Buddy grunts again and gives Chanticleer a large sack of coarse-ground salt and a large crock of ground sage, "Have Dominic see if he can replace that. Food's going to be mighty bland if we use all my spices fending off a murderous merchant."
Chanticleer nods, "Not sure if we can without raising suspicions, but it shouldn't matter after tomorrow. Thanks, Buddy!" He heads off to a good spot to crush the salt and sage into small pouches, to be given to the warders this evening. He also makes a mental note to let Dominic know they'll need more sage and salt, and should arrange a trip into town the following day to take care of that.
Suraksha quietly whispers a request to Fantine, and the small, shy woman flits off to Suraksha's wagon to get the necessary implements for the meeting tonight. Pippa arrives a moment later, and Sura asks her to arrange birthday entertainment suitable for a young ten-year-old girl. "If she likes horses perhaps you and Poly could do something? Ask the Russians too, if you would, please?" Pippa grins and nods cheerfully before she trots off. Sura nods to Dominic, "Sure, dear, if you think that would help... although please keep in mind we only have half the day left, and Chanti will likely need a bit of help too with the grinding?" She oh!s, turning back to Dominic as Fantine arrives, "Also, dear, keep in mind the natives are restless!" She grins mischievously at that, then turns back to Fantine, whose arms are full of things.
By the time everyone is having an early dinner well before sunset, things are pretty much in place. Everyone knows what to do in case of emergency, and has gone through a dry run. The central area has been widened a bit by the simple expedient of moving back the wagons appropriately, and a circle of maybe 15' or 20' diameter raked smooth for the tumblers and horse acrobats. Suraksha's little outdoor office is off to one side, so she can talk quietly with Jerome Bradley but still be in sight of everyone. There are places for people to sit at the side of the ring. The guards have been paired up with dogs and organized. Sura spends several hours in her wagon in quietly prayerful preparation, while Fantine throws a pretty cloth over the little outdoor desk and makes it look nice.
Over the next few hours, Dominic makes and carries out plans. He's already got it on his agenda tomorrow to look into buying salt and sage, from what Chanti said. But after all the hard work has been done he takes a moment to sit outside the wagon he bunks in and feel the earth around him, sinking his mind into it. This is a good land: he can see why the city was made here. Yes, some trace pollution near the caravan route, but the land is stable and arable. He makes a point of reporting this to Suraksha. "Might be that the Manitou's influence makes it so, or could be natural phenomenon. Can't say either way." Suraksha nods and thanks Dominic for checking; she's quietly relieved she has independent verification of Ohkwari's assessment.
The days are still short at this time of year and the sun sets early. Not long after the last rosy tint of sunset has faded, there's the sound of approaching horses and a hearty voice halloos the camp from outside the circle of the caravan's fires. Chanticleer glances to Dom at the call, then stands, thrusting his club in his belt; he considered carrying his sword and keeping it glamoured, but he isn't sure their guest won't see it. Dominic steps up with Chanti on his right, done up in his finest outfit. Well, finest for him. It's mainly a clean set of clothes. Which is okay, because Chanti can look handsome and well dressed enough for them both. Chanticleer remains glamoured, though, the same as he looked when Bradley came by the camp the prior night. The human man nods at the fae's unspoken query, and ambles over to their guests, his fingers twitching at his itchy palms.
The group that has arrived is perhaps a dozen people, more than half of whom are female and/or under twelve years old. The children and the two adult females are in a wagon driven by the silent young man, Moses. Ahead of the wagon, riding a horse that looks built more for drawing a plow than riding, is Jerome Bradley. His factor, Mr. Elliott, is on a smaller horse, and there are two young men with them that look more or less like bodyguards. Mr. Bradly smiles his broad and paternal smile at the two men coming to meet his group, "I didn't want to startle anyone with the size of our entourage. I hope this is not too much? My Diana was having a birthday party." He motions at the wagon.
Chanticleer blinks, glancing to Dom. "This is... unexpected," he murmurs.
Dominic looks uncertainly at Chanti. On the one hand, this is a big group... on the other hand, they're children. On the third hand, they're children. Hooooboy. "Well... I s'ppose it ain't much of a thing." He's absently thinking he's going to have to tap some of the rest of the caravan to keep tabs on the kids, make sure they don't go wandering off. He figures Sura can see the entourage, so he gives a look back at her, as if asking if it's okay.
The little entourage doesn't move, waiting for the go-ahead. Bradley swings down from the horse, pulling its reins forward so he can lead it, "I do appreciate Miss Sesha being willing to have this negotiation."
Suraksha is whispering to Fantine, who nods and darts off, speeding first to Buddy, letting the cook know how many more to expect for the tea and nibblies. Buddy snorts and growls, but keeps his voice down, and Fantine grins and stands on tiptoe to give him a peck on the cheek before she dashes off again. Back at the edge of camp Suraksha nods and smiles to Dominic, although her eyes flash scarlet for an instant in the firelight. Chanticleer hides his discomfort, already planning on going around the warders quickly to let them know how things have changed, once he gets the chance to do so. Dominic looks vaguely wry at that look in Sura's eye -- he knows that look -- and then he waves the wagon in. "Come on up, then."
The nearest casually sauntering guard to Chanti grins and waves, catching the signal, and a moment later he heads quietly off to the next person in the darkness. Chanticleer inwardly relaxes, knowing Alexander will pass the word along. Dominic takes a moment to get a closer look at Mr. Bradley then, not having gotten a good look the other night -- and wishing for a moment he could read people the way Sura always seems to be able to. Chanticleer walks with the entourage, bringing up the rear with a couple of other caravan-folk but not directly to the rear, staying off to the side so as not to give the impression that the visitors are being trapped.
Bradley starts forward with the horse, only to have a young woman dart forward and offer to take the reins. From here and there, caravaneers are stepping forward to take charge of the animals. Poly and Pippa move to the wagon, helping the little girls down as well as the adult women. Dominic makes sure to get a count of everyone, the kids most of all.
Suraksha is waiting silently for the little group to approach, her hands folded neatly in front of her and a small smile on her calm face as she stands by her decorated working desk. After much discussion with Ohkwari and Fantine, the young woman had decided to not attempt to fake anything: with the gift of tobacco she's going to make friendly gestures through the possible ethnic background of the entity she's meeting, but she's dressed for her own ethnic background. Her shimmering silken sari is emerald and scarlet, with golden threads that gleam like molten flame in the torchlight, woven through the cloth. Her jewelry also reflects back the firelight gloriously: gold pendant earrings and necklace, multiple glittering bracelets and anklets, rings on her small toes... and a small jeweled bindi shining between her dark, curving brows.
Suraksha gravely greets the guests, first salaaming politely to them -- children as well as the adults -- and then offering them all seats. She waits until everyone has settled before she smiles at the girls and asks, "So, we have a bet here. Do little girls like tumblers best? Or do they enjoy the horse acrobats best of all?" As she's talking to the guests, caravaneers are quietly and cheerfully moving through the wagons, chatting and talking to each other as if this were commonplace. Some of them are in glittering costume, others dressed like gypsies; others lead beautifully caparisoned horses. It's designed to captivate and delight the children, hastily expanded so there's enough for six of them rather than just one.
Chanticleer straightens his pale blue coat, the one with silver thread trim and the subtly darker embroidery suggestive of feathers upon it. It set him back quite a few paychecks, but the image-conscious sidhe was quite taken with it. It looks moderately exotic in daylight, but stunning in moonlight. He wasn't planning on any assignations this evening, but it is pretty and colorful and attractive, which is what Suraksha asked for.
The little girls giggle and cover their mouth with their hands, whispering about the lovely clothes and Suraksha's jewelry. At the question about what little girls like best, there are happy squeals and a tumult of answers. Bradly chuckles indulgently and says, "I suspected there was more to this caravan than you claimed." He reaches out a hand and a small, dark-haired girl child steps forward to take it, eyes shining, "This is Diana."
Suraksha smiles quietly at Bradley, "Protective camouflage is just that, no?" She offers a hand to the little girl as if to an equal, "Welcome, Diana. My name is Suraksha. I hear it is your birthday, yes?"
Dominic hmmphs. Lacking his hat -- what with not wanting to obscure his vision in the dark -- he snaps his suspenders a couple times, one of his few twitches as he eyeballs the amused Bradley. Fantine has flitted from guard to guard already. Now she pauses by Dominic, whispering in his ear: could he help Buddy in a short while with bringing in the goodies? Dominic nods agreeably to Fantine. Of course, he lingers a while longer, as if to make sure that the collection of young girls don't all turn into a host of vampire tweens or something. Once he's satisfied with that, he trots off to do Fantine's request.
The two adult women are with the children, obviously there to ride herd, so to speak. Diana smiles and takes Suraksha's hand, shaking it. Her voice is soft, almost whispery, "It is. I am ten today. My father says that I should say thank you very nicely for having us here."
Suraksha smiles and nods to the small girl, "You are welcome, Diana; it is a pleasure. So, you have not yet decided: tumblers or the ponies?" She grins a bit mischievously, "Or... both?"
Diana catches her breath and her eyes shine as if she cannot believe her good luck. Hesitantly she looks up at her father and asks, "Is it greedy to say both, Papa?" Bradley rests his hand on the girl's head and says, "Both have been offered. I do not believe Miss Sesha would be mean enough to offer something she didn't intend to be taken." Diana nods and then looks at Suraksha hopefully, "Both? But the tumblers first, please?"
Suraksha laughs softly, waving a hand towards the ring nearby, "I think we can arrange that!" Even as she speaks, Fantine has darted off again, and Suraksha smiles as she adds, "Chanticleer, would you and the others help the young ladies move their chairs to the edge of the ring?" Chanticleer smiles to Suraksha and inclines his head as he moves to shift the chairs to the edge of the tumblers' performance space; Suraksha murmurs a soft thanks to the assisting caravaneers. In the ring, slender and athletic members of the family of tumblers are already rolling out a heavy padded carpet, while others wait with the tools of their trade. Sura grins and adds to the young ladies, "Do be sure to applaud if you enjoy them, yes? Artists always love knowing they're appreciated!" She glances at Bradley and his factor, adding quietly, "Would you care to sit and watch with the children, or will you have some tea or coffee here with me while we talk?"
Bradley watches as the entertainers get things ready. The two women and the young bodyguard-ish types move to be with the children. Moses, Elliott, and Bradley stay with Suraksha. Bradley's voice is quite low, "I apologize for the unexpected number of people, Miss Sesha. I had an uneasy feeling and did not wish to leave them at my home." Suraksha tilts her head inquiringly at the man, even as she waves a hand to invite them all to be seated again.
Dominic comes back in a little bit with Buddy, setting up tables and then tureens of tea and lemonade. Hot water is still on the fire for tea and coffee, but the popcorn is ready, and -- last of all -- Dominic stoically lays out a tray of carameled apples. Buddy spent a lot of time on those, and the big man stands guard by them, to make sure they're properly shared. Suraksha grins quietly at Buddy, her eyes sparkling with pleasure -- she's glad he decided to be nice to the little girls, even though he's not wild about the manitou himself.
Chanticleer places the chairs, politely and courteously stepping back. He glances into the tree canopy, frowning. The birds are being very hard to understand, like they're talking through a haze of crackling noise. As soon as he can he lets Dom know; he isn't sure if it's from Bradley or what, but he's wondering if there isn't something up. Bradley's smile seems to continue being indulgent as the children are shown the treats and the entertainment. His words are more serious, "Elliott tells me he spoke to you of how things are changing here in Roseville?"
Suraksha's quiet smile is wry, but all she says was, "It was, ah... difficult to miss?"
Chanticleer perks as he hears Bradley speak of a sense of foreboding. After all his trips with Suraksha, the sidhe has learned to trust those feelings, especially when odd things -- like the voices of the birds being covered by a sort of haze -- happen. He lets Dom know, asking him to let the warders be a little more alert to something odd, and hopes Bradley will explain further about that uneasy feeling. He himself remains alert. Dominic nods reassuringly to Chanti, and asks him to guard the apples with his life! Well, sort of. Dom's always so serious! He then trots off to find Pippa and Poly.
Suraksha settles herself comfortably in her chair, hands folded in her lap as she apparently waits for her tea to arrive... and casually checks all three adults' chakras. Chanticleer stands by Suraksha as a bodyguard would. If there is a lull in the conversation -- say, while Bradley and Elliot are admiring the tumblers -- he lets Sura know about his inability to hear the birds. Elsewhere, Dominic makes sure, even after letting the Amazons know what's up, that he speaks with some of the warders himself, asking them if they've seen anything untoward.
Bradley says, "The city council and the mayor are trying to make this town into something it is not. They wish to make it an armored gate, a filter to catch the detritus of the world -- or those things they consider detritus." The manitou is good at keeping his face calm in case Diana glances over at him, "Roseville is not meant to be such a thing. It is a place of passage. A nexus, if you will. They have been trying to not only keep what they consider bad elements from settling -- they are trying to get rid of those that frighten or disgust them."
Suraksha's calm gaze is on Bradley, but at Chanticleer's whisper she gives a very small, faint nod. She looks inquiringly at Bradley, murmuring, "Do they have, ahh... supernatural means of doing so?" She blinks in faint startlement as her attempt to 'see' Bradley's chakras is... about as effective as staring at a brick wall! Chanticleer frowns thoughtfully. It sounds like Bradley is not the only supernatural being in Roseville.
Bradley's smile would look fine from a distance. Up close, it is obvious how strained it is, "Somewhat the opposite. They are using old Christian rituals in an attempt to make the place pure. The problem is that some of them are efficacious -- and some of them are very bloody."
Suraksha is starting to become concerned -- not only is Bradley absolutely unreadable to her currently... but while Elliott's chakras read much the same as earlier today, the man himself is clearly anxious to her sight... even frightened. She reaches a hand up to gently touch Chanticleer's arm so the sidhe will lean down to her, and whispers in his ear, "Double the guard, and have them further out from the caravan's edge, so we'll have more warning if... something comes." Then she gives Bradley a politely puzzled smile, "Bloody? I was under the impression the christian mythos..." She pauses, then says softly, "Oh... no. Are you speaking of Inquisitions or something similar?"
Chanticleer nods and moves off quickly and calmly, but not running. He lets each warder team know of the changes personally, and supervises the setting of the additional guards. Once that's done he retrieves his sword, keeping it glamoured and unseen but at the ready. At this point he thinks Bradley will understand. He tries hard, as he moves off, to not react to the phrase 'bloody rituals.' He thinks back to Pere Alfonse, the Catholique priest from Baton Rouge, and can't imagine the friendly, helpful priest being involved with such. These must be older rites, rites his church disowned long ago -- if they even ever had them. He hopes; he doesn't want to think ill of Alfonse right now.
Dominic meets Chanti when he hurries over to double the guard... it's enough to ruffle the scout, but in the end he decides he should remain close to Sura and the children. The hounds can smell better than he can see... and surely, protecting the children is paramount. While his first loyalty is to the caravan, surely no one can fault him for wanting to see to the safety of those that cannot protect themselves. On the other hand, the first thing Dom checks on getting back to the center of camp is the carameled apples -- yikes, no one was guarding them!
Bradley pushes his hands into his pockets, "I am speaking of what is called the Old Testament. Sacrifices and purges. I send Diana to church on Sundays because respectable young women attend church. Lately, she and her nanny have returned with disturbing news of what the sermons contain. Tirades against impurities and pagan gods."
Suraksha's eyes grow cold, but she doesn't say anything. Yet. She simply nods quietly, then murmurs, "Forgive my... bluntness, but I must ask, Mr. Bradley: why do you tell me this? Is your goal simply to warn me, or is there something I might do for you?"
Bradley smiles tightly again, "Elliott said you were quite bright. I do a bit of both. I can tell there are those in your caravan that are not at all what they appear. It would be good for you to know more than is shown on the surface of this town. Also, I have this child. If things were to go badly for me, Diana would be at the mercy of these fanatics. My old contacts are drying up and I do not like the feel of being cut off in this way."
Suraksha sighs softly, her gaze slipping to the child as she murmurs with a perfectly calm face (in case any of the children glance this way), "Her mother cannot protect her? Or the families of the other five girls? They cannot help?"
Bradley shakes his head slowly, "Her mother died giving birth to her... and the other five girls are schoolmates, not relatives. I am not asking you to shelter us. I am simply hoping to have an ace up my sleeve." As they speak, the tumblers begin their act. They are quite good at what they do and they know how to dazzle children and adults both. The caravan children have begun to creep out of the woodwork as well, so to speak, and are watching happily. They are used to seeing the acrobats practice, but an actual show is still a treat.
Suraksha glances at the frightened factor, then looks back at Bradley and says bluntly, "How soon do you expect to be attacked? Are you trying to clear out the more fragile of your people, or what?" She is a bit perplexed at Moses -- is he not human? He seems utterly stolid, just like before.
Bradley chuckles slightly, "You arrived at a fortuitous time for me. Diana's birthday entertainment was to be a troupe of actors from town. I wanted something playful and cheerful. They wished to do a morality play. It became rather a heated discussion and I fear I rather lost my temper."
Suraksha studies the man silently as he completely avoids her question... then adds quietly, "Are you causing the static?"
Bradley's calm demeanor slips at that point and he looks utterly puzzled, "Static?"
Suraksha thinks a moment, trying to figure out how to put what she's seeing and knows into human words, "The... energy barrier between... between our material world here -- the physical-" she holds up a hand, then adds, "and the... the extrasensory. Are you creating that right now?" She figures that's all that can explain her absolute inability to 'see' the man now, when she could See him just fine last night... and Chanti's inability to hear the birds, as well. She hopes Fantine hasn't lost her abilities -- that would frighten the small loogaroo.
The manitou looks at Suraksha carefully and then looks around as if he's trying to see past the circle of light created by the caravan. "I wouldn't know how to do that. For me, they are not separate things." His body language has started to change. From laconic father and businessman to something far too still and watchful.
Suraksha frowns at Bradley's words, intensely disturbed. If it's not him, then who is creating this... problem with the veils between the worlds? She murmurs with a touch of worry, "Well. In that case... how may I help you, Mr. Bradley?" She sends Fantine to Sabrina, with the request that Sabrina join the two women and the children, chatting and being friendly with them... so if something bad happens there'll be someone there who the women will trust, who will know how to quickly move them to safety in the caravan. Sura's instincts are nearly yowling at her by now -- she's simply waiting, at this point, for the bad news to arrive of some sort of attack.
Out on the edge of the caravan Chanticleer abruptly stops short, eyes widening. The haze has cleared; now he hears the birds: they're a multitude of bells -- far, far too many bells for a calm night. There's something out there that's disturbing them, whispers of fire and sweat and fear. He makes a random guess that it's something coming for Bradley. He whirls and rushes to Suraksha, calling to her. Back by the center of camp, Bradley's eyes flicker and change, going to dark expanses all the way through. He straightens up and snaps, "Moses! Charles! David! The children!" His cultured voice has started to change as well.
Suraksha frowns quietly as she hears the faint noise of shouting over the sound of the performers, off in the distance. When Bradley snaps out his orders she stands, clapping her hands once and calling out with calm certainty, "Hey, Rube! Close it down!" The caravaneers freeze, then react instantly -- the tumblers roll smoothly to their feet, bow to the little girls, and run swiftly off. Others are starting to change things, closing up wagons and packing tools away.
Dominic was already noticing the animals were acting spooked... and then Bradley gets all worked up. Looking at Sura, Dominic can see she knows something is about to happen. He leaves his crossbow hidden under the table where he stashed it when bringing out the goodies... but he picks up his club and prepares to use it. "Never goes smooth. Why does it never go smooth..." he growls under his breath, every sense of his on alert.
Suraksha looks at Bradley thoughtfully, waiting to see what he does. Will he want her help, or will he take the children and run? When Del trots up and asks about the horses of the guests, Sura murmurs, "Wait -- we don't know what they want yet." She continues watching silently.
Moses and the two young bodyguard-types start gathering up Diana and the other girls along with the nannies. Bradley shouts, "Get them hidden!" It's clear he's angry and his voice is turning into something that sounds more like a wind than a human noise, "Miss Sesha, I am sincerely sorry."
Suraksha looks up at the manitou calmly, "For what?" She doesn't ask where the children will be hidden; she's assuming he doesn't need her help. In a quiet aside she adds to Del, "Bring their horses." All around them, things are being shifted and put away. Clothes are being changed and glamours being donned.
Bradley struggles for a moment and pulls himself together, "For bringing whatever this is down on you."
Suraksha raises an eyebrow at the manitou, "It seems to me, if anything, you need our help more than ever. We are clearly a righteous and god-fearing caravan, after all." Even as she speaks she's swiftly shedding jewelry, handing them off to Fantine, who has dark clothing folded over one arm. Her lips gets the faintest quirk at one edge as she pulls on a necklace with a delicate engraved cross pendant which Fantine hands to her, and her voice is very dry as Alexander darts by with an armful of items, pausing to lay out a bible on her writing desk, "Can't you tell?"
Chanticleer is glamouring his coat into darker colors as he makes a round of the warders, checking on them and trying to get a feel for where the birds are most disturbed. By the time the first of the not-a-guards comes running in with a dog at his heels, the caravan is already half-converted. The warder runs almost literally into Chanticleer and says, "Torches. Coming through the woods. That's usually not a good sign."
Chanticleer grimaces and nods to the warder. "Don't engage. At least give me a chance to tell the Lady first. But let's not start fighting with the townies right now. Damn!" He goes to pass on the message to Suraksha immediately.
Dominic seems satisfied that the children are being seen to, so he stays where he can do the most good now: at his Lady's side. Seeing that Sura is attempting to dress down again, though, he puts down his club where he can easily reach it. No need to look threatening. Though really, the big fellow already looks rather foreboding with his thick black hair and beard. Dominic wishes, not for the first time, that he had power over weather. How nice it would be to drench those torch-carriers with a couple tons of water.
Bradley nods at Sura's question and asks, "Can the children and the women be hidden in with your people? It will look less suspicious if they are not with me."
Suraksha smiles faintly, "Of course." To Dominic she murmurs, "Get them to Sabrina. She'll know what to do, dear." She studies the manitou thoughtfully as Fantine hastily peels off the top folds of the sari, then throws a high-collared, long-sleeved, very matronly white blouse around Sura's shoulders. As she buttons it up she adds, "And you and the men?" Dominic darts off to find where the women-folk and the children were ushered off to. Time to find far more secure and special hiding places for them, encouraging them to the kind and practical wagon manager.
Bradley says, "Elliott and I can be here negotiating. I am a businessman, after all, and I am known to keep odd hours. By those that know me, that is."
Suraksha nods, calling after Dominic, "Take the young bodyguards with you to hide!" She murmurs to Fantine, "I can take it from here. Suspicious-businesswoman-desk, please?" Fantine nods, tossing a long and heavy skirt over the back of Sura's chair, then flipping open the bible. From a desk drawer she pulls out and arranges on the desk a big cross, a quill and pen, and the paperwork for Bradley. Sura slips the heavy skirt on, drops the rest of the sari from underneath it, and sits to pull on heeled, high-laced boots. The caravaneers are slowing down now, falling into their poses: one is sitting and reading his bible, another two women are washing clothes together, someone is mending by the lamplight while a child reads to her... it looks incredibly staid and normal until you realize there are quite a few strong-looking people near Sura.
As Chanticleer comes running up, Fantine grabs up the beautiful, glittering, exotic looking sari and vanishes into the wagon with it. Chanticleer ensures the sword is glamored and hidden even as he passes the coat to Fantine as well -- if someone can see through glamour, there'll be a lot worse that they'll see. He slows down as he reaches Suraksha, folding his hands primly at the small of his back as he remains close by her, looking every inch the dour deacon or presbyter. Suraksha whips her long braid around her head a few times, pinning it into place, and looks up at Chanti, "How's that? Oh! Moment..." She pulls out a tiny pair of glasses, perching them on her nose; she looks like a librarian -- a scarily stern, purse-lipped, disapproving one.
She adds softly, "Tell the guards to fall back, like normal, and circle behind our... 'guests,' and I'll meet them." Chanticleer nods and goes to -- somberly and dourly -- intercept the new arrivals. He does his best to make himself look every inch the clean-cut, square-jawed, holy-rolling (what does that mean?!), and deity-fearing, otherwise-perfectly-normal-looking human. Bradley watches this transformation and starts to relax, having to struggle less to keep his mask on. For a moment it was starting to slip, and the figure of the manitou was wavering into being around the edges.
Dominic, with Sabrina's direction, gets all the folk stowed away in the sleep wagon. He was about to rush back off when Sabrina tugs his arm and points out the children are scared out of their minds -- that in all the haste he's completely neglected to think of the emotional consequences. Dom looks stupidly at Sabrina a moment, and then at the ladies. He pondered the situation, a little out of his depth: dealing with folk unhardened by the perils of travel. Even passengers tend to be of sterner stuff. Of course, it probably doesn't help that these are scared of their own people. He looks around at all of them and tells them with complete confidence, "Don't you worry. Lady Suraksha can talk a forest fire into going out."
Diana looks at Dom with those big, brown, and trusting eyes and asks, "Is my Papa going to be safe?"
Dominic gravely makes eye contact with Diana. "You bet your britches he is." He then crouches next to Diana, and does something his own sisters taught him once when he was young. "Pinky swear," he rumbles, offering his thick finger to her.
Diana looks at Dom for a moment, but then -- in accordance with age-old girlhood protocol -- hooks her delicate little finger with him, "Pinky swear is very serious."
Dominic gravely gives a firm shake to the curled digits. "I'm a very serious man," he assures. He's about to leave... but on considering it, he decides that maybe, maybe, the best thing to do would be to stay here. He's instilled some measure of confidence in these folk, but that may waver if he leaves. So he draws up a stool... and starts telling the children of when he was a lad, waylaid by a vicious press-gang... and adventure that issued forth from his capture, and the heroic efforts of a fleet-footed girl named Del, and a brave woman named Suraksha. He's embellishing a little -- dramatic license, you see -- although he leaves out Del and Sura's unique 'characteristics,' just in case.
Elsewhere, the wagon and hitch of the guests has been neatly tucked in amongst the caravan's gear, Del murmuring quiet reassurance to the horses. There are only three horses tethered near where the three gentlemen are negotiating with Sura. Suraksha murmurs calmly to Bradley as she decorously settles herself, "Goodman Bradley, if you please?" and waves a hand towards his chair. Even as she's speaking Fantine and Pippa come up, the loogaroo with a tray and the Amazon dressed in somber leathers. As Pippa settles into parade rest behind Sura, Fantine sets down the tray of tea things and drops a little curtsey to the three gentlemen sitting with her lady... then starts serving tea. Sura murmurs pleasantly, "One lump or two, gentlemen?"
Ohkwari settles on an upturned barrel near Suraksha, polishing a pair of leather boots. He raises an inquiring eyebrow at Sura, who looks a bit grim but nods firmly -- she's all right so far. Bradley glances at Okhwari and his eyes widen and then, for just an instant, he looks very relieved. Suraksha smiles faintly at Bradley's reaction, then murmurs a bit more firmly, "Goodman Bradley? One lump or two, if you please?" Fantine waits, delicate silver tongs in one hand and a bowl in the other, hovering over the steaming cup.
Bradley settles himself into the chair and says, "One if you please. Cream, if you have it. Thank you." The inflection on those last two words speaks volumes that have nothing to do with tea.
Suraksha's faint smile is demure as she glances up from under her eyelashes at the man, "You are quite welcome." There is the faintest hint of teasing in her voice as she adds, "An excellent choice, if I may say so. Black Darjeeling has a faint hint of... bitterness to it. Always better to sweeten subtly with cream, as opposed to simply dumping in more sugar in a vain attempt to counteract it."
Suraksha is soon briskly discussing the fine details of the shipping Bradley wishes to see go out. She's quite happy to take all of it they can, and she covers everything thoroughly. She's keeping the corner of her eye on Ohkwari, who is casually watching the direction in which Chanticleer headed. She has something prepped for when the townies start arriving, after all. Bradley calls Elliott over to help deal with the details of things -- that's the factor's job, after all. Bradley isn't quite lounging in his chair, but it is certainly not a proper, upright stance for a pious man.
Out past the outer ring of guards Chanticleer encounters the thing which was causing such unrest amongst the birds. It isn't a mob. Quite. There are perhaps eight people there -- all of them soberly dressed, all of them male. Chanticleer steps quietly through the brush to the eight men. It may not be a mob, but eight torches can do a great deal of damage to a wooden caravan. "Can we help you, gentlemen?" he says in a voice so flat and dry he'd need to take a stropping stone to his tongue to make it sound at all interesting.
The man in the lead of the group is wearing somber black clothes with a white shirt buttoned up to his neck and a broad-brimmed black hat. It is clear Chanti is not at all what he was expecting. "Good evening. I am Thomas Moore Aurelias, Mayor of Roseville."
Chanticleer remains patient, noting out of the corner of his eyes that Alexander and Tonnerre are nearby. He inclines his head to Thomas Moore Aurelias. "Good evening. Chanticleer, aide to Goodlady Sulochana." He lets his gaze slowly go from one torch to another, then back to Aurelias. "What ill brings good folk as yourselves out into the night?"
The mayor seems disconcerted and says carefully, "There is a bad lot in town that we thought might be..." He's clearly looking for the right word since his original one won't work, "Trying to work his way in with good folk such as you."
Chanticleer lets his brow arch, still slowly as if he has no rush whatsoever. "I am unaware of anyone from Roseville attempting to book passage with us. Perhaps you would wish to speak with the Goodlady?"
The men with the mayor are hesitant and obviously uneasy. They seem to be between the ages of seventeen and forty, dressed conservatively and all wearing hats, and they seem unsure what to do with the torches. Finally the Mayor says, "Yes, certainly. Is her husband unavailable?"
Chanticleer lowers his eyes a suitable fraction. "She is a young widow. Her husband, the original owner of the caravan, died tragically early in their marriage." He lets his voice carry a note of... sigh... lingering grief over the loss of Goodman Corbett.
The mayor makes a gesture to the men, who lower their torches a little, "Yes, please. Let us go find the Goodwife, then."
Chanticleer inclines his head, and turns to head towards Suraksha, before pausing and turning back. "Oh... Honorable Mayor, if you would...?" He indicates the torches. "The wagons are rather flammable." Chanticleer thinks to himself, [And since we would like to come back, I would really rather not have to grievously hurt any of your men who are about to torch one of our homes-on-wheels.] The men with the torches are quick to extinguish them and seem chagrined to even have them, now they've arrived. The mayor scowls at them a bit, as if unhappy they capitulated so easily to the request.
Back in Sabrina's wagon, and all too soon, the story about Dominic's rescue from the press gang is over... so he segues to the story he learned in bits and pieces from Chanti and Sura, about Lady Suraksha and the King of Baton Rouge! Hmm. That's a good title. He vaguely entertains a notion of discussing literary designs with the Lady. On thinking about it, he refers to Suraksha by a different name... that allows him to include the more fantastical elements of the story, without getting Sura in trouble. They're little girls, but still! The caravan might need to come back this way. Better to be safe than sorry.
At the center of camp, Suraksha has slipped into 'role' as the discussion continues. She is by now sitting almost primly: booted feet together, back straight as a ruler, head high, and disapproval on her face every time she glances in the nearly slouching Bradley's direction. In the middle of one of her comments to Elliot, Ohkwari coughs pointedly. Suraksha slips a small smile at the man, then seems to almost bristle with moral indignation as she carefully sets down the quill, lifts her chin, and stares coolly at Elliot. As the little group of townies are led into the open area by Chanticleer, Sura's voice is clear as a bell, "I am sorry, Goodman Elliot, but my dear departed husband was adamant on that point. We absolutely do not ship cargo for anyone... until we have first inspected the contents."
Suraksha glances over towards Chanti as the others seated with her look at the approaching townies, and a small frown appears on her face. She stares at the eight men, then looks disapprovingly back at Bradley, her voice stern, "Goodman Bradley, if this is an attempt at a show of force... I shall be quite disappointed in your ethics!" People are starting to notice the men, rising to their feet or -- if women and children -- ducking quietly into wagons.
Chanticleer clears his throat. "Goodwife Sulochana. This is the Honorable Mayor Thomas Moore Aurelias."
Bradley smiles a very charming, businesslike smile, "I would never presume to do such a thing, Goody Sulochana. I came to negotiate in good faith." He rises and gives a small bow to the mayor, "Your Honor."
Suraksha rises gracefully to her feet, "Ah, the mayor? My mistake; forgive me. Thank you, Chanticleer." She nods gravely to Bradley, then to the mayor, "Good evening, your honor. What brings you here at this late hour?" The caravaneers seem to calm when they hear it's the mayor, settling back down as if he's the trustworthy one. A few women peek out of the wagons, then come out and return to their mending in the better light.
The mayor and the men with him look around the camp; there are a few nods of approval -- and a couple of sidelong glances at the younger caravan women from the younger townsmen. The mayor says, "I had received word that your caravan might be in danger of..." his eyes fall on Bradley, "...being led astray."
Suraksha glances over at Bradley, then looks back at the mayor calmly, "Virtue is its own reward, Mayor Aurelias. We have no idle hands in this caravan." Her eyes narrow as she looks pointedly at the youngest townie, who is unwittingly staring at shy little Fantine.
The townie flushes and looks at the ground between his feet. The mayor nods and smiles, "Then welcome to our beautiful city, Goodwife. Welcome."
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