Post by Campion on Feb 5, 2010 17:19:43 GMT -5
Grinne's in a good mood when he ambles into the Lamb, nodding at Jarel before he meanders to the back corner of the mostly-empty tavern, leaving a wavering trail of smoke. It's time to do boss shit, and boss shit he'll do, though he's not sure what's up this time. He shoulders open the narrow, nondescript door that leads to an equally narrow staircase, and his footsteps thud rhythmically upwards until he reaches their private room with its large wooden table. He wonders briefly about how they got the table up here as he rubs at the back of his neck, but he crosses and takes a decisive seat. First one here. When did he get so punctual?
Campion's not far behind, of course. His detour might be an unexpected one, though, and one not broadly advertised to the rest of the Kamil at large. He briefly ducked into the cathedral before this meeting, whispered a hurried prayer while kneeling at the altar, and then walked briskly back out. All his actions and motions in there rushed, as if he were a suspect of theft or an undesirable element that would be trounced were he spotted. By the time he makes it to the Lamb and climbs those stairs as well, there's a twitch of a smile to Grinne, and then he takes his seat as well next to the other man...and taps him for a loaned cigarette.
Lilifred prides herself on being the MODEL employee and looks downright ornery when she slams open the door to see Campy and Grinne sitting there smiling at each other like idiots. She stares a moment, one hand still braced on the doorframe as she tries not to scowl about being late and tries ESPECIALLY not to scowl at Campion for being a Lexie-beating asshole.
Grinne cracks a smile, nodding to her as he passes Miles a smoke. "Lo, Lilifred." Campion takes the cig and sets about to lighting it, flitting a look to the angry gnome. And that's all she gets; a fleeting glance. He looks away to nowhere in particular, for no reason in particular, blowing a stream of smoke. Auro's arrival gets another twitched smile and nod, though.
It isn't long before Auroran slips through the door quietly after, looking around. His own personal ettiquete dictates that he must stand and stare at whoever is in the room before he is made to sit, and so he's content to linger by an empty chair, but not actually sit in it just yet.
His gaze shifts to each person in the room in turn. This is how you say hi.
Lilifred moves aside to let Auro in, her death gaze not wavering as she does so. Finally she sighs and tosses her head to the side, taking long strides towards the table, "Lo, Smiley." she responds finally, "You too, uh... Auroran." she doesn't have a cute nickname for the elf, especially not with the cagey way he's been acting lately. She takes her usual perch atop a chair and puts her chin in her palms.
Unlike his usual self... Natharai actually showed up a little late, in a hurry, with his shirt partially mussed. He...looks like hell; tired, slight rings under his eyes... Someone has been burning the midnight oil. Once he shows up in the backroom, he offers a quiet word of apology before quickly seating himself. Calm down, Ebonrook. Calm down... A quiet, yet deep and cleansing, breath is inhaled and slowly exhaled as he composes himself.
Campion blinks at Nath's flustered appearances and entrance, chewing a little on his cigarette. "...So." A look around at those gathered. "Order of business?"
Grinne, well, grins. He leans back in his chair, slouching habitually, arms crossed over his chest. "What ARE we here for."
Auroran is still hovering by his own chair. "What... uhh. What?" He looks around, scratching at his goatee nervously.
Lilifred nods along with Grinne's statement, signifying that she has no clue what the hell they're doing there either. She lights a cigar and tips her head at the Professor."Ebonrook, if you make us do any of those trust building teamwork exercises, I';m leaving right now."
The warlock sighs faintly as he reaches up to smooth his hair back habitually, followed by a readjusting of his monocle. He is, slowly, back to acting like his usual methodical self. "We are here..." he murmurs in his droning voice, stretching 'here' a little longer than he should as he collects his thoughts. "...to discuss the position of Merosiel Riversung."
The blond thug blinks, and his grin slips, just a tad. He sits forward, taking a deep drag on his cigarette.
Auro frowns. Oh, yeah. Scarred hands fidget with his robe's sleeves as he begins looking at everyone around the room in turn once again
Campion presses his lips into a thin, pale line and huffs twin streams of smoke from his nose. Great. Just great. "Figures. Has she officially become a problem." The pronoun slips before he can correct it. And hopes at least Auro doesn't notice.
Auroran DOES notice, and a glare is shot in Campion's direction. He says nothing, as there happens to be other family in the room and oh god no more cutting please.
Lilifred quirks an eyebrow, "She?" she grunts, taking a drag of her cigar. "Merosiel is a guy. You high or somethin' Campy?"
Campion gives Lilifred a withering look. "Whatever Merosiel is, it's PREGNANT, so you tell me." No more secrets, dammit.
Natharai offers Lilifred a brief sidelong glance, a corner of his mouth lifting in a faint wry smirk. "No... no team building exercises, Lilifred. I believe your own was...enough for the time being." A not-so-subtle jab? More than likely. He falls quiet for a moment to listen to Campion and the conversation following, murmuring. "...It is a bit of gray area, actually... Regarding Merosiel's gender. Regardless... Campion is correct. Whether or not people view him as male or female, Merosiel is, indeed, pregnant. Though that is only a part of the issue at hand..."
It takes Lil a moment to process all of this. Her mouth hangs open a little and she gapes, opening and closing it a few times before snapping her jaw shut and tapping the end of her cigar against her lips. "Uhm..." she looks at Auroran, "Can long ears do that?"
Peregrinne sighs through his nose, rubbing the bridge of it. "Leave it be, Lil. Ain't worth figurin' out." Grinne's murmur is kind, and quiet.
Auroran balls his hands into fists, STILL standing, still glaring. "He's a man, he's pregnant. So fuckin' what?" This isn't a sensitive issue for the priest or anything.
Natharai blinks and smirks a little wider, his tone faintly amused. "...No, it is not like that, Lilifred." Then he looks to Auroran, smirk disappearing as his voice flattens. "Calm yourself, Auro..."
The gnome's eyebrows flatten out and she shrugs. Okay. So both genders of elf can get pregnant. Good to know.
Auroran is left mumbling under his breath and now EXTREMELY uneasy. He says nothing more and decides staring at the wall is a better idea now.
Campion grunts. Lilifred's gaping is ignored, as is Auro's indignation, as is Grinne's growing dismay. "What's the problem, then. Or problems." Business.
The warlock lets a lengthy sigh filter through his nose as his eyes partially lid, looking down to the table briefly in the meantime. "What we are here to discuss is not, wholly, Merosiel's pregnancy. Though it does have a hand in this topic. We are to discuss his punishment for repeated failures that have put the Kamil into the public eye and have, thusly, brought us into a rather unsettling position."
Campion sits up a bit more, scowling. "What has sh-...Merosiel done NOW. And is this about Ley being POISONED by him? Because if not, that CERTAINLY should be called into account as well." He growls, taking a hard drag that makes the end of his cig glow orange. "He's POISONING capos, for fuck's sake."
Peregrinne grunts. His brows draw down, curious and a little troubled. He's out of cigarette, and he stubs it out on the table. They need to get an ashtray in here.
Lilifred's eyes blink open and she completely forgets about the pregnancy. She is immediately serious business, leaning forwards slightly in her perch, jaw set firmly. "... what?" she asks this with a measured steel in her voice. After this, she casts another glance at Auroran and suddenly snaps: "Auro, sit the hell down."
Auroran will listen to Lilifred and sit. NOT BECAUSE SHE'S A GIRL OR ANYTHING- actually that is why. He almost knocks over the chair as he pulls it out.
"Let's not forget how he introduced himself to me." He hooks a thumb at his own back. "Fucking KNIVES in the back? Merosiel's unstable and unreliable, that much is obvious by now. And need I bring up the incident with him sending strange TROLLS to Grinne and I's fucking HOUSE?" Oh, yeah, he's on a roll now.
Grinne sits up, now. After all this time, he still hadn't know Merosiel was the one who stabbed Miles. "Weeeeell," he drawls, resigned.
Another sigh from Natharai before he speaks. "Yes... That is being brought into account, Campion. To sum up for those who were not present... It was during that fiasco of a 'scavenger hunt'." He pauses when he hears about Campion blustering about being stabbed. "...However," he adds darkly. "I was not aware that it was he who assaulted you."
"It wasn't Meros himself that stabbed you, you know," Auroran offers. "And you said you forgave him that time. Unless now you're bringing it up because it's convenient."
"It's indicative of his behaviour, if nothing else," he grumbles. "It was a friend of his who attacked me while he had me distracted. One way or another, he had a hand in it."
"Hell," the blonde thug sighs.
Natharai is also aware of Campion's ability to blow things out of perspective and/or see things from an extremely biased standpoint. However... it is hard not to be when you are stabbed. In the back. Twice. "Perhaps..." He is not about to discuss the finer points about that situation. Not yet, at least.
Auroran leans over with his elbows on the table. He lets a long, exasperated sigh, scratching at one of his face's scars idly. "So..."
Peregrinne frowns. "The hell CAN we do? Fella's pregnant, for Light's sake."
"So what's his stake in the Kamil again?" Lilifred asks over Auroran's open ended query.
"Well, he has three very heavy marks against him... A hand in the assault of Campion, the poisoning of both Ley and Ruepert, and now him causing us to be sniffed out by the Ebon Blade."
"What." Peregrinne blinks.
"He's a stray dog, near as I can tell. And has he done ANYTHING right by the Kamil? Anyth-..." Campion is cut off at the mention of the Ebon Blade. Campion seconds that, "What," his voice tight.
Lilifred's eyebrows crumple again.
Auroran SCOWLS at the mention of the Ebon Blade. He mumbles unkind things in Darnassian.
A thoughtful frown appears on Natharai's face as he reclines in his seat, hands lightly resting on the table. "I am not sure how this happened, really, but if I was to gather what occurred... Merosiel procured his disguise potions from an outside source, one that gave him the appearance of a death knight. Why? I am not sure... Aesthetics, probably. Regardless, a commander of the Ebon Blade, one elf by the name of Bloodflame, found out that Merosiel was, indeed, in disguise and believed that we were responsible for using their organization for a front in our dealings. A belief that did not settle well with him...at all. This was shortly after the poisoning incident, where in Merosiel vanished. I assume he went back to enemy lands to drop out of view."
The groan is quiet and frustrated as the Enforcement lead pushes back from the table, head lolling so he can focus on the ceiling. One unsteady hand digs up another cigarette. Chain-smoking is good for you, and he needs it, dammit.
Campion is a little pale, and his mouth is set into a stern, flat line again. Hands on the table slowly curl into fists. "...He's finished." It's a grim proclamation. A sentence.
Auro shoots a look at Campion, then to Natharai. "I would rather he not die if it's at all possible."
"Dammit, Miles," Grinne grumbles, still staring upward with a troubled frown. "He can't be finished. He's pregnant, an' we don't bring kids into it. We kill him, we kill the kid. AN' that." Grinne nods at Auroran.
Lilifred's expression hasn't shifted. She just smokes. "Fine." She blows out a smoke ring, "He gives birth, THEN he's finished." She's merciful, after all.
"Not even AFTER" Auroran yelps. "Isn't there anything that can be done?" He looks imploringly to Natharai again.
Natharai, meanwhile, ignores Campion's statement for the time being, but he is aware of it. "Merosiel gave him my name, specifically, and sought an audience with me... He was in poor health and injured, it seems, and was contained within the Shattrath for a week... In which he was constantly monitored by members of the Blade. Myself and and Auroran checked in on him and I, eventually, escorted him back when the doctor's orders were complete." He offers Auroran a faint shrug. "At this point, I see very little... He is a liability. He has been of very little use to us, yet has been a constant hinderance to us instead."
"I don't-...No. I'm not killing a child. I'm not ADVOCATING killing a child." Campion looks around at the others, slightly aghast that they'd think that of him? "But Light fucking DAMMIT, after having to dodge death every hour from Ebon Blade task forces in the fucking Harbour, and now he's dragging those DOGS, those FIENDS, those VULTURES, do our fucking door?! I'm not standing for it!" Nath's included input only makes him that much more firm on this stance.
Auroran's voice is quiet, his family is starting to argue and it unsettles him greatly. "Liability or not... There is nothing to be done? I don't... don't want him to die."
Natharai's brow furrows just a fraction. "...I would rather him not either, Auroran, but that is, sadly...how it works. This is not a business where you make a habit of constantly screwing up and endangering your peers."
Grinne lets out a frustrated growl. "Then we take a... hell if I know, a finger or a hand or an ear or some shit an' send him on his way." This is business. He hates saying that, but this is business. He'd have beat the shit out of Miles for business, not too long ago, and this is no different. Better, even -- he's not sleeping with Merosiel.
Lilifred shakes her head."That's not how we do things. We don't just let someone go. Either we kill him, or we figure out how to punish him without firing him."
Grinne slants a look at the gnome. "Like hell we don't. He ain't branded, he didn't take vows. Don't see why we can't. Could... take away the tongue, or somethin'." The mutter is almost sullen.
"Regardless of emotional attachments..." Natharai murmurs, "Whether it be Auroran and Procrastin, Campion and Peregrinne, and so on... We all took an oath and made a verbal agreement."
"He's a leech," Campion growls, getting another cigarette for himself as well. "What has he done for the family? WHAT?! And he does nothing but fuck up, or visit misfortune and failure on us. One way or another, he is DONE." His hands are shaking as he tries to strike a match. Ebon Blade is a bit of a short-fused trigger to sickening memories..
"Punishment is fine." Auroran shrugs. "Death, I am not so... comfortable with." He looks around helplessly.
Grinne looks at Auroran, scowling, searching for SOME kind of solution.
"Still..." Natharai's tone remains monotone and neutral. "Punishment can only go so far, Auroran. He has been chastised... he has been penalized with his payment..."
"Is there anything I can do?" Auroran asks quietly. "My shadows? ANYTHING? I will help take the punishment if need be." Auroran would do anything for family, after all.
"What." Campion stares HARD at Auro. "Are you offering to be punished in his PLACE?" He looks incredulous. PLEASE let him be misunderstanding
Natharai simply sighs. "No, Auroran. Nothing at the moment. This is not your burden to bear. 'Family' or no... This is one that he cannot afford to cross. "However, the idea of taking his artificial tongue is an idea. Trauma, sadly, can affect the developing child, so I would rather not sever extremities until later...."
"I'm sorry..." The elf rests his head in his hands, now cursing lowly in Darnassian.
Lilifred sighs heavily. What's so hard to understand about 'he doesn't go into the harbour until after the baby is born?'
"You don't need your fingers to birth a child, last I checked," Campion growls.
Natharai slants Campion a lingering sidelong look, eyes narrowing faintly. Grinne turns his scowl on Miles as well. Lilifred catches herself nodding appraisingly at Campy. She stops quickly. Campion meets their looks defiantly.
"...Regardless," the warlock eventually drones as he looks out to the group again. "We are all in agreement of this, at least. His life, for the moment, will be spared at least until the child is born. Until then, his life hangs in the balance."
The blond thug grunts, finally, looking away."How're we gonna keep him from runnin'."
"We obviously CAN'T, since he already DID. To the HORDE. To the fucking EBON BLADE." A sticking point, that; the affiliation's name is spat like the words taste foul.
"And those assholes will probably try to get him back again." Auroran sounds bitter.
"Lock him up." Lil says simply. She is dead serious.
"...Essentially so," Natharai agrees. "He would be under house arrest, or at the very least, confined to Stormwind. But even then... The elf is not entirely dim. He is crafty when he must be. While execution is, very likely, the ultimate solution to this... He has a little more time to somewhat redeem himself. I propose, in the meantime, that he is put to work in Auroran's clinic where he is under his direct supervision." Would that satisfy you, Auro? To play shepherd to your wandering sheep? "If he proves to do good work, cause no waves, then maybe...just maybe his life would be spared."
"He ain't just crafty," Grinne drawls, still frowning. "Fella c'n... use shadows." He breathes another sigh through his nose. "Clinic works for me."
"At this rate," snarls the ex-crusader, crossing his arms, "I'd be tempted to let the Blade HAVE him, if it weren't for the obvious complications he's going to bring on the family if he DOES. Light, Natharai, what all did he TELL them?"
"Precisely..." The warlock nods to Peregrinne, then pauses briefly, glancing at Campion. "Though I am not entirely certain, Campion... But apparently enough for Bloodflame to figure out what our exact nature is. While the Blade may be a neutral organization, he is still Sin'dorei. He knows that there are Alliance infiltrators within his home city."
Lilifred's calm is slipping. She's getting rapidly more and more irritated with this conversation. She flicks her cigar aside and grumbles under her breath in frustration. "Smiley, you just said he was all crafty like and now you're advocating putting him in the damn clinic?" Lilifred shakes her head angrily.
Campion goes grimly silent for the time being, chewing on his cigarette, huffing smoke from his nose from time to time like an irritated dragon.
"Though as for Merosiel's shadows..." The warlock smiles thinly. "He is not the only one who knows how... Auroran and myself both have our ways to keep watch on him." However, Nath is not about to bring up the subject of his Eyes.
Campion does a good job to suppress a shudder. It's just a tick of the mouth and a jerked shoulder. He thought about the Eyes regardless.
Natharai glances to Lilifred, expression flat. "...Look at it this way, Lilifred. If he does, indeed, run... Then he will forgo his agreement and put himself and his child in jeopardy–a child he has, already, pleaded for me to spare." Another short pause. "If he runs... they both shall die."
Lil is still shaking her head, not assured. "What? He's gettin' special treatment because he's fucking Auro and Pro. How else am I suppose to look at it?"
Grinne starts; Campion sputters. Auroran stands swiftly, knocking his chair back. "YOU LITTLE BITCH."
"AURORAN." Grinne stands as well, immediately. The elf is glare at the gnome woman, eyes wide with rage.
"How DARE you even think-...Listen to her! It's not even TRUE."
Campion startles, as well when Auroran shouts. Grinne's got the possible need for restraint, so he just looks up with concern at the elf. "Auro, calm down..." His voice is a great deal more kind than it was several moments prior.
Lilifred lights another cigar. She puts it to her lips and takes a long drag, "What else am I suppose to think?"
The blond man leans on the table, now, calloused hands splayed. He turns a deadly-neutral look on the gnome. "Ain't supposed to think a damn thing, Lilifred. The hell does it matter? He ain't getting special treatment, he's got a goddamn KID. We took a VOW."
The slighter dark-skinned man's eyes narrow as he listens, quietly seething behind that nearly neutral mask of his. "...If you would all be so kind to be silent," he murmurs lowly. He is getting angry... Bad things will happen.
"Grinne's right there. Even I'll admit to-..." Campion shuts up when Natharai calls for it, however.
Auroran stays standing, but has gone silent for now too. He stares at Lilifred.
Grinne ignores Nath for the time being. "An' I don't know what vow means to YOU, but to ME it means somethin' I'm gonna follow to the letter. Got it?" He continues to stare Lilifred down, cigarette hanging. The look the blond man gives her is disgusted, angry, and fed up. He sits, finally. "In the meantime, ain't gonna stand for anything about special Light-damned treatment, though. To hell with you."
Natharai lets Grinne finish, eyeing the blonde-haired thug quietly all the while. Campion gives a fleeting, proud look to Grinne, maintaining his silence.
Lilifred is a bitch and keeps going, though. "Look, I'm all for lettin' the kid get born. Once we throw Meros in the harbour, the little one'll have a good life in the orphanage." she shrugs dismissively.
Campion would argue that having Merosiel as an only parent is a good death sentence for a baby as well, but...that's a little harsh, and he's still keeping quiet, dammit.
"That will likely be the ultimate fate for him, yes," Natharai murmurs lowly. "However, he has a few months... But, Grinne is correct, to a degree."
Lilifred rolls her eyes, "Smiley, I didn't think he got you too. We ain't a lost elf babysitting facility. Merosiel works in medical anyways. Merosiel's looked after by Auroran anyways. Tell me. When we find him, what's gonna happen to him to make him understand that he's in deep shit with us?"
"Won't lie," Peregrinne grunts, smoking furiously, still fixing a dark look at the gnome. "He's a friend, dammit. But I'll still do what needs to be done."
The warlock raises both of his hands in a slightly placating gesture, expression still somewhat tight as he regards the group with those unamused pale eyes. "There is no special treatment, aside that he is with child. He is aware that his life hangs in the balance, as does his child, and if he continues to hurt this family then they BOTH shall perish. But, for now, he shall remain in Auroran's care and do good work for the Kamil. If not, again, he will die."
Lilifred still isn't satisfied, but she backs down, pausing to take another pull off her cigar.
"I'm sure most of us understand the feeling of being trapped,with death hanging over our heads," Auroran says with newfound calm. "My kindness extends to you ALL, I would rather NO ONE die. But... if it does come down to it. I'll even do it myself." Auroran sits back down, blank-faced.
Campion looks up, meeting Nath's eyes questioningly. "...Permission to speak." Fear of Kamil higher-ups, or military conditioning? Maybe both.
Being they are in a business atmosphere, this time it does not insult Natharai when asked this. "Granted," he responds flatly
"So you're proposing..." The ex-crusader sounding a lot more calm as well now, at least, his voice and words measured as he gestures with his cigarette, describing whispy grey lines in the air. "That he simply be put into medical, under Auroran's care, with a verbal slap on the wrist and nothing more." He looks up at Nath again. Is that right?
"Tongue," Grinne grunts.
Lilifred's lips twitch up in a mild smile. "Yeah, his tongue. Take that shit out."
"Procrastin made it, so does he need to be consulted for removal?" Campion looks to Auro now. The elf nods slightly.
"Procrastin will pitch a fit otherwise, so yes."
"Yes, Miles... His tongue will be confiscated," Natharai confirms. "Additional punishment will likely be considered, however..." He sounds...rather serious about that.
"As well as being kept to Stormwind?" Campion goes on. "Nothing like house arrest, just forbidden to leave." He still speaks carefully, laying it all out for clarification. "And what if his Ebon Blade vultures come knocking." There's a faint growl in his voice at THAT.
Auroran nods. "I don't want those shits coming to my clinic."
Natharai's eyes close slightly, murmuring. "Then it will be dealt with should it happen... Merosiel already knows well enough that neither Auroran or myself care for that lot."
Peregrinne rolls a shoulder. "...Good thing about bein' in the middle of the city is... s'guards all over the place."
The warlock cracks an eye open lightly, looking at Grinne. "Well...We seem to manage just fine in Silvermoon..."
The thug shrugs. "Yeah, but we don't attack nobody in SIlvermoon."
Auroran's blank expression hasn't left his face. There's a lot going on under the surface that he can't properly express, hopefully there'll be no need for another outburst. He'd rather not be taken for a crazy again. Ears twitch slightly as he listens to the conversation quietly.
Campion still looks grim, stubbing out the remains of his cigarette. He's mulling over something else now. "...Did you confirm at all EVERYTHING Merosiel told these monsters, Natharai?"
"I was not able to, no," is the sighed response. "Though from what I could tell, Merosiel did not say much. But it was enough to Bloodflame to formulate his own thoughts on the matter."
The redhaired man grunts, crossing his arms. "...He told that piece of rubbish troll where Grinne and I live without a second fucking thought." Do you see what he's getting at here?
Yes. Yes he does. Another lengthy sigh through his nose as Natharai watches the fallen crusader. "...Then what do you propose we do then, Miles." His eyes flinch narrower, briefly, however. Might wanna choose your words carefully...
"I'm just confessing my...distress at this matter. If Ebon Knights show up at my doorstep..." His hands curl into fists and he goes stony-faced. "...I'll not be pleased." Understatement of the WORST kind.
The warlock smirks wanly as the fingers on his right hand drum upon the table once in a rhythmic pattern. Tap tap tap tap... "As far as I know, Miles, he only knows my name. And now Auroran's. Though Bloodflame already made it rather explicit that unless this happens again, there will be no further action taken against us, being this is, overall, not the Blade's concern. They have...larger things to worry about, after all."
The ex-crusader huffs. Good enough. But he's going to be on the WORST kind of edge now with this knowledge, this FEAR gestating in the back of his head. "Larger things," he laughs instead. "Certainly." His voice is tight again.
"Well then I guess it's no problem at all," Lilifred mutters sardonically. She doesn't really have much else to contribute to this conversation.
Grinne shoots Lilifred another frown, but that's all. The second cigarette is laid to smeary black rest next to the first one, and he refolds his arms.
Natharai, too, looks slightly to Lilifred and murmurs quietly. "Do try and understand that this is an aggravatingly nebulous situation we are in, Lilifred. Things are still being sorted out..." Lilifred nods and waves her hand, trailing smoke in the air.
"So.." Auroran half-sighs it.
"So," Campion echoes. "I suppose that's the best we can do and hope for in the meantime." He sounds tired more than anything now.
"Essentially so..." is the monotone reply from their underboss.
"Are we done, then? What do I tell him?" Auroran blinks slowly.
That is a good question... Hm. Natharai considers. "That he is not to leave Stormwind and he is now under your direct supervision. Until further orders, of course... You might wish to alert Procrastin that he may be required to remove the prosthetic tongue."
Auroran scratches his goatee. A small source of joy in an otherwise crappy meeting. "Will do. So this means I can't really leave Stormwind now either...?"
"No... That is hardly fair to you. However, perhaps you can establish some sort of link with him? I cannot say that I claim to know the intricacies of your mental connections, but if there is any way, save -my- methods, to at least keep a vague monitoring of location..."
"What of giving him work or missions," Campion adds. "I know I'LL not be handing him any, after the fantastic foul-up my attempt to get him to work had. And...Dangerous for the baby, I suppose," he mumbles as an afterthought.
Lilifred raises her hand politely. At the same time, the priest shrugs. "I cou-" He looks at the gnome blankly. Nath gestures to Lilifred. What's up?
"If you really want him to do some useful work, I need someone to do lots of really boring paper work and filing." She is serious about this too. Lilifred is really serious about a lot of things.
"I am fine with this..." The warlock glances to Auroran briefly. And you, shepherd?
"I don't mind, really," said shepherd replies. "Otherwise, he just helps out around the clinic. Hell, while we're here... I wouldn't mind some security there either. I deal with most crazies myself and it is a little stressful." Auro shrugs. "Being the only healer thus far is stressful too."
Campion is about to say something at the mention of healers, but...no. Nevermind. He shuts his mouth again, settling back in his seat and glancing at Grinne as though to check up on him. Grinne is still sitting, focusing on nothing in particular, frowning. He hasn't lit up another smoke, at least. He's just frowning, a 5'7" scar-faced stone wall.
"...Mm. We shall see what we can do to help with that, Auroran," says Natharai. "Regarding you being the only healer on duty... Until then, unless there are any other pressing issues, then that is all I have to say on this matter. Action will be taken. Merosiel will be dealt with."
Lilifred nods tiredly and busies herself with finishing her cigar. Okay, fine. Peregrinne sighs. "We good to go, then?"
Natharai heaves out a sigh as he reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose. He looks weary. "Good enough as we can be, I suppose. Thank you for coming."
Campion pushes himself up from the table with a nod. "Keep us posted, I suppose." Not a lot else needs to be said on the matter, it would seem. Punishment is settled on, as well as future outcomes and things to watch out for. Campion, with one last polite nod, exits the room and heads down the stairs with heavy, booted footfalls.
Grinne stands as well. "Lemme know." Hands in pockets, then, the thug crosses to the door, in much less a good mood than when he came in. He follows Campion, after throwing a farewell to the others. "Take care," he mutters, and then shuts the door.
"Of course..." Natharai is, likely, the last to leave. He offers polite, if not tired, nods or murmurs of farewell to those who leave. Other than that, he remains where he is to continue thinking.
Auroran has been sitting on the edge of his tipped-over chair all this time. He doesn't move quite yet, instead watching others make the motions to get up and go. Auroran stands at last, wandering off quietly and aimlessly.
Campion's not far behind, of course. His detour might be an unexpected one, though, and one not broadly advertised to the rest of the Kamil at large. He briefly ducked into the cathedral before this meeting, whispered a hurried prayer while kneeling at the altar, and then walked briskly back out. All his actions and motions in there rushed, as if he were a suspect of theft or an undesirable element that would be trounced were he spotted. By the time he makes it to the Lamb and climbs those stairs as well, there's a twitch of a smile to Grinne, and then he takes his seat as well next to the other man...and taps him for a loaned cigarette.
Lilifred prides herself on being the MODEL employee and looks downright ornery when she slams open the door to see Campy and Grinne sitting there smiling at each other like idiots. She stares a moment, one hand still braced on the doorframe as she tries not to scowl about being late and tries ESPECIALLY not to scowl at Campion for being a Lexie-beating asshole.
Grinne cracks a smile, nodding to her as he passes Miles a smoke. "Lo, Lilifred." Campion takes the cig and sets about to lighting it, flitting a look to the angry gnome. And that's all she gets; a fleeting glance. He looks away to nowhere in particular, for no reason in particular, blowing a stream of smoke. Auro's arrival gets another twitched smile and nod, though.
It isn't long before Auroran slips through the door quietly after, looking around. His own personal ettiquete dictates that he must stand and stare at whoever is in the room before he is made to sit, and so he's content to linger by an empty chair, but not actually sit in it just yet.
His gaze shifts to each person in the room in turn. This is how you say hi.
Lilifred moves aside to let Auro in, her death gaze not wavering as she does so. Finally she sighs and tosses her head to the side, taking long strides towards the table, "Lo, Smiley." she responds finally, "You too, uh... Auroran." she doesn't have a cute nickname for the elf, especially not with the cagey way he's been acting lately. She takes her usual perch atop a chair and puts her chin in her palms.
Unlike his usual self... Natharai actually showed up a little late, in a hurry, with his shirt partially mussed. He...looks like hell; tired, slight rings under his eyes... Someone has been burning the midnight oil. Once he shows up in the backroom, he offers a quiet word of apology before quickly seating himself. Calm down, Ebonrook. Calm down... A quiet, yet deep and cleansing, breath is inhaled and slowly exhaled as he composes himself.
Campion blinks at Nath's flustered appearances and entrance, chewing a little on his cigarette. "...So." A look around at those gathered. "Order of business?"
Grinne, well, grins. He leans back in his chair, slouching habitually, arms crossed over his chest. "What ARE we here for."
Auroran is still hovering by his own chair. "What... uhh. What?" He looks around, scratching at his goatee nervously.
Lilifred nods along with Grinne's statement, signifying that she has no clue what the hell they're doing there either. She lights a cigar and tips her head at the Professor."Ebonrook, if you make us do any of those trust building teamwork exercises, I';m leaving right now."
The warlock sighs faintly as he reaches up to smooth his hair back habitually, followed by a readjusting of his monocle. He is, slowly, back to acting like his usual methodical self. "We are here..." he murmurs in his droning voice, stretching 'here' a little longer than he should as he collects his thoughts. "...to discuss the position of Merosiel Riversung."
The blond thug blinks, and his grin slips, just a tad. He sits forward, taking a deep drag on his cigarette.
Auro frowns. Oh, yeah. Scarred hands fidget with his robe's sleeves as he begins looking at everyone around the room in turn once again
Campion presses his lips into a thin, pale line and huffs twin streams of smoke from his nose. Great. Just great. "Figures. Has she officially become a problem." The pronoun slips before he can correct it. And hopes at least Auro doesn't notice.
Auroran DOES notice, and a glare is shot in Campion's direction. He says nothing, as there happens to be other family in the room and oh god no more cutting please.
Lilifred quirks an eyebrow, "She?" she grunts, taking a drag of her cigar. "Merosiel is a guy. You high or somethin' Campy?"
Campion gives Lilifred a withering look. "Whatever Merosiel is, it's PREGNANT, so you tell me." No more secrets, dammit.
Natharai offers Lilifred a brief sidelong glance, a corner of his mouth lifting in a faint wry smirk. "No... no team building exercises, Lilifred. I believe your own was...enough for the time being." A not-so-subtle jab? More than likely. He falls quiet for a moment to listen to Campion and the conversation following, murmuring. "...It is a bit of gray area, actually... Regarding Merosiel's gender. Regardless... Campion is correct. Whether or not people view him as male or female, Merosiel is, indeed, pregnant. Though that is only a part of the issue at hand..."
It takes Lil a moment to process all of this. Her mouth hangs open a little and she gapes, opening and closing it a few times before snapping her jaw shut and tapping the end of her cigar against her lips. "Uhm..." she looks at Auroran, "Can long ears do that?"
Peregrinne sighs through his nose, rubbing the bridge of it. "Leave it be, Lil. Ain't worth figurin' out." Grinne's murmur is kind, and quiet.
Auroran balls his hands into fists, STILL standing, still glaring. "He's a man, he's pregnant. So fuckin' what?" This isn't a sensitive issue for the priest or anything.
Natharai blinks and smirks a little wider, his tone faintly amused. "...No, it is not like that, Lilifred." Then he looks to Auroran, smirk disappearing as his voice flattens. "Calm yourself, Auro..."
The gnome's eyebrows flatten out and she shrugs. Okay. So both genders of elf can get pregnant. Good to know.
Auroran is left mumbling under his breath and now EXTREMELY uneasy. He says nothing more and decides staring at the wall is a better idea now.
Campion grunts. Lilifred's gaping is ignored, as is Auro's indignation, as is Grinne's growing dismay. "What's the problem, then. Or problems." Business.
The warlock lets a lengthy sigh filter through his nose as his eyes partially lid, looking down to the table briefly in the meantime. "What we are here to discuss is not, wholly, Merosiel's pregnancy. Though it does have a hand in this topic. We are to discuss his punishment for repeated failures that have put the Kamil into the public eye and have, thusly, brought us into a rather unsettling position."
Campion sits up a bit more, scowling. "What has sh-...Merosiel done NOW. And is this about Ley being POISONED by him? Because if not, that CERTAINLY should be called into account as well." He growls, taking a hard drag that makes the end of his cig glow orange. "He's POISONING capos, for fuck's sake."
Peregrinne grunts. His brows draw down, curious and a little troubled. He's out of cigarette, and he stubs it out on the table. They need to get an ashtray in here.
Lilifred's eyes blink open and she completely forgets about the pregnancy. She is immediately serious business, leaning forwards slightly in her perch, jaw set firmly. "... what?" she asks this with a measured steel in her voice. After this, she casts another glance at Auroran and suddenly snaps: "Auro, sit the hell down."
Auroran will listen to Lilifred and sit. NOT BECAUSE SHE'S A GIRL OR ANYTHING- actually that is why. He almost knocks over the chair as he pulls it out.
"Let's not forget how he introduced himself to me." He hooks a thumb at his own back. "Fucking KNIVES in the back? Merosiel's unstable and unreliable, that much is obvious by now. And need I bring up the incident with him sending strange TROLLS to Grinne and I's fucking HOUSE?" Oh, yeah, he's on a roll now.
Grinne sits up, now. After all this time, he still hadn't know Merosiel was the one who stabbed Miles. "Weeeeell," he drawls, resigned.
Another sigh from Natharai before he speaks. "Yes... That is being brought into account, Campion. To sum up for those who were not present... It was during that fiasco of a 'scavenger hunt'." He pauses when he hears about Campion blustering about being stabbed. "...However," he adds darkly. "I was not aware that it was he who assaulted you."
"It wasn't Meros himself that stabbed you, you know," Auroran offers. "And you said you forgave him that time. Unless now you're bringing it up because it's convenient."
"It's indicative of his behaviour, if nothing else," he grumbles. "It was a friend of his who attacked me while he had me distracted. One way or another, he had a hand in it."
"Hell," the blonde thug sighs.
Natharai is also aware of Campion's ability to blow things out of perspective and/or see things from an extremely biased standpoint. However... it is hard not to be when you are stabbed. In the back. Twice. "Perhaps..." He is not about to discuss the finer points about that situation. Not yet, at least.
Auroran leans over with his elbows on the table. He lets a long, exasperated sigh, scratching at one of his face's scars idly. "So..."
Peregrinne frowns. "The hell CAN we do? Fella's pregnant, for Light's sake."
"So what's his stake in the Kamil again?" Lilifred asks over Auroran's open ended query.
"Well, he has three very heavy marks against him... A hand in the assault of Campion, the poisoning of both Ley and Ruepert, and now him causing us to be sniffed out by the Ebon Blade."
"What." Peregrinne blinks.
"He's a stray dog, near as I can tell. And has he done ANYTHING right by the Kamil? Anyth-..." Campion is cut off at the mention of the Ebon Blade. Campion seconds that, "What," his voice tight.
Lilifred's eyebrows crumple again.
Auroran SCOWLS at the mention of the Ebon Blade. He mumbles unkind things in Darnassian.
A thoughtful frown appears on Natharai's face as he reclines in his seat, hands lightly resting on the table. "I am not sure how this happened, really, but if I was to gather what occurred... Merosiel procured his disguise potions from an outside source, one that gave him the appearance of a death knight. Why? I am not sure... Aesthetics, probably. Regardless, a commander of the Ebon Blade, one elf by the name of Bloodflame, found out that Merosiel was, indeed, in disguise and believed that we were responsible for using their organization for a front in our dealings. A belief that did not settle well with him...at all. This was shortly after the poisoning incident, where in Merosiel vanished. I assume he went back to enemy lands to drop out of view."
The groan is quiet and frustrated as the Enforcement lead pushes back from the table, head lolling so he can focus on the ceiling. One unsteady hand digs up another cigarette. Chain-smoking is good for you, and he needs it, dammit.
Campion is a little pale, and his mouth is set into a stern, flat line again. Hands on the table slowly curl into fists. "...He's finished." It's a grim proclamation. A sentence.
Auro shoots a look at Campion, then to Natharai. "I would rather he not die if it's at all possible."
"Dammit, Miles," Grinne grumbles, still staring upward with a troubled frown. "He can't be finished. He's pregnant, an' we don't bring kids into it. We kill him, we kill the kid. AN' that." Grinne nods at Auroran.
Lilifred's expression hasn't shifted. She just smokes. "Fine." She blows out a smoke ring, "He gives birth, THEN he's finished." She's merciful, after all.
"Not even AFTER" Auroran yelps. "Isn't there anything that can be done?" He looks imploringly to Natharai again.
Natharai, meanwhile, ignores Campion's statement for the time being, but he is aware of it. "Merosiel gave him my name, specifically, and sought an audience with me... He was in poor health and injured, it seems, and was contained within the Shattrath for a week... In which he was constantly monitored by members of the Blade. Myself and and Auroran checked in on him and I, eventually, escorted him back when the doctor's orders were complete." He offers Auroran a faint shrug. "At this point, I see very little... He is a liability. He has been of very little use to us, yet has been a constant hinderance to us instead."
"I don't-...No. I'm not killing a child. I'm not ADVOCATING killing a child." Campion looks around at the others, slightly aghast that they'd think that of him? "But Light fucking DAMMIT, after having to dodge death every hour from Ebon Blade task forces in the fucking Harbour, and now he's dragging those DOGS, those FIENDS, those VULTURES, do our fucking door?! I'm not standing for it!" Nath's included input only makes him that much more firm on this stance.
Auroran's voice is quiet, his family is starting to argue and it unsettles him greatly. "Liability or not... There is nothing to be done? I don't... don't want him to die."
Natharai's brow furrows just a fraction. "...I would rather him not either, Auroran, but that is, sadly...how it works. This is not a business where you make a habit of constantly screwing up and endangering your peers."
Grinne lets out a frustrated growl. "Then we take a... hell if I know, a finger or a hand or an ear or some shit an' send him on his way." This is business. He hates saying that, but this is business. He'd have beat the shit out of Miles for business, not too long ago, and this is no different. Better, even -- he's not sleeping with Merosiel.
Lilifred shakes her head."That's not how we do things. We don't just let someone go. Either we kill him, or we figure out how to punish him without firing him."
Grinne slants a look at the gnome. "Like hell we don't. He ain't branded, he didn't take vows. Don't see why we can't. Could... take away the tongue, or somethin'." The mutter is almost sullen.
"Regardless of emotional attachments..." Natharai murmurs, "Whether it be Auroran and Procrastin, Campion and Peregrinne, and so on... We all took an oath and made a verbal agreement."
"He's a leech," Campion growls, getting another cigarette for himself as well. "What has he done for the family? WHAT?! And he does nothing but fuck up, or visit misfortune and failure on us. One way or another, he is DONE." His hands are shaking as he tries to strike a match. Ebon Blade is a bit of a short-fused trigger to sickening memories..
"Punishment is fine." Auroran shrugs. "Death, I am not so... comfortable with." He looks around helplessly.
Grinne looks at Auroran, scowling, searching for SOME kind of solution.
"Still..." Natharai's tone remains monotone and neutral. "Punishment can only go so far, Auroran. He has been chastised... he has been penalized with his payment..."
"Is there anything I can do?" Auroran asks quietly. "My shadows? ANYTHING? I will help take the punishment if need be." Auroran would do anything for family, after all.
"What." Campion stares HARD at Auro. "Are you offering to be punished in his PLACE?" He looks incredulous. PLEASE let him be misunderstanding
Natharai simply sighs. "No, Auroran. Nothing at the moment. This is not your burden to bear. 'Family' or no... This is one that he cannot afford to cross. "However, the idea of taking his artificial tongue is an idea. Trauma, sadly, can affect the developing child, so I would rather not sever extremities until later...."
"I'm sorry..." The elf rests his head in his hands, now cursing lowly in Darnassian.
Lilifred sighs heavily. What's so hard to understand about 'he doesn't go into the harbour until after the baby is born?'
"You don't need your fingers to birth a child, last I checked," Campion growls.
Natharai slants Campion a lingering sidelong look, eyes narrowing faintly. Grinne turns his scowl on Miles as well. Lilifred catches herself nodding appraisingly at Campy. She stops quickly. Campion meets their looks defiantly.
"...Regardless," the warlock eventually drones as he looks out to the group again. "We are all in agreement of this, at least. His life, for the moment, will be spared at least until the child is born. Until then, his life hangs in the balance."
The blond thug grunts, finally, looking away."How're we gonna keep him from runnin'."
"We obviously CAN'T, since he already DID. To the HORDE. To the fucking EBON BLADE." A sticking point, that; the affiliation's name is spat like the words taste foul.
"And those assholes will probably try to get him back again." Auroran sounds bitter.
"Lock him up." Lil says simply. She is dead serious.
"...Essentially so," Natharai agrees. "He would be under house arrest, or at the very least, confined to Stormwind. But even then... The elf is not entirely dim. He is crafty when he must be. While execution is, very likely, the ultimate solution to this... He has a little more time to somewhat redeem himself. I propose, in the meantime, that he is put to work in Auroran's clinic where he is under his direct supervision." Would that satisfy you, Auro? To play shepherd to your wandering sheep? "If he proves to do good work, cause no waves, then maybe...just maybe his life would be spared."
"He ain't just crafty," Grinne drawls, still frowning. "Fella c'n... use shadows." He breathes another sigh through his nose. "Clinic works for me."
"At this rate," snarls the ex-crusader, crossing his arms, "I'd be tempted to let the Blade HAVE him, if it weren't for the obvious complications he's going to bring on the family if he DOES. Light, Natharai, what all did he TELL them?"
"Precisely..." The warlock nods to Peregrinne, then pauses briefly, glancing at Campion. "Though I am not entirely certain, Campion... But apparently enough for Bloodflame to figure out what our exact nature is. While the Blade may be a neutral organization, he is still Sin'dorei. He knows that there are Alliance infiltrators within his home city."
Lilifred's calm is slipping. She's getting rapidly more and more irritated with this conversation. She flicks her cigar aside and grumbles under her breath in frustration. "Smiley, you just said he was all crafty like and now you're advocating putting him in the damn clinic?" Lilifred shakes her head angrily.
Campion goes grimly silent for the time being, chewing on his cigarette, huffing smoke from his nose from time to time like an irritated dragon.
"Though as for Merosiel's shadows..." The warlock smiles thinly. "He is not the only one who knows how... Auroran and myself both have our ways to keep watch on him." However, Nath is not about to bring up the subject of his Eyes.
Campion does a good job to suppress a shudder. It's just a tick of the mouth and a jerked shoulder. He thought about the Eyes regardless.
Natharai glances to Lilifred, expression flat. "...Look at it this way, Lilifred. If he does, indeed, run... Then he will forgo his agreement and put himself and his child in jeopardy–a child he has, already, pleaded for me to spare." Another short pause. "If he runs... they both shall die."
Lil is still shaking her head, not assured. "What? He's gettin' special treatment because he's fucking Auro and Pro. How else am I suppose to look at it?"
Grinne starts; Campion sputters. Auroran stands swiftly, knocking his chair back. "YOU LITTLE BITCH."
"AURORAN." Grinne stands as well, immediately. The elf is glare at the gnome woman, eyes wide with rage.
"How DARE you even think-...Listen to her! It's not even TRUE."
Campion startles, as well when Auroran shouts. Grinne's got the possible need for restraint, so he just looks up with concern at the elf. "Auro, calm down..." His voice is a great deal more kind than it was several moments prior.
Lilifred lights another cigar. She puts it to her lips and takes a long drag, "What else am I suppose to think?"
The blond man leans on the table, now, calloused hands splayed. He turns a deadly-neutral look on the gnome. "Ain't supposed to think a damn thing, Lilifred. The hell does it matter? He ain't getting special treatment, he's got a goddamn KID. We took a VOW."
The slighter dark-skinned man's eyes narrow as he listens, quietly seething behind that nearly neutral mask of his. "...If you would all be so kind to be silent," he murmurs lowly. He is getting angry... Bad things will happen.
"Grinne's right there. Even I'll admit to-..." Campion shuts up when Natharai calls for it, however.
Auroran stays standing, but has gone silent for now too. He stares at Lilifred.
Grinne ignores Nath for the time being. "An' I don't know what vow means to YOU, but to ME it means somethin' I'm gonna follow to the letter. Got it?" He continues to stare Lilifred down, cigarette hanging. The look the blond man gives her is disgusted, angry, and fed up. He sits, finally. "In the meantime, ain't gonna stand for anything about special Light-damned treatment, though. To hell with you."
Natharai lets Grinne finish, eyeing the blonde-haired thug quietly all the while. Campion gives a fleeting, proud look to Grinne, maintaining his silence.
Lilifred is a bitch and keeps going, though. "Look, I'm all for lettin' the kid get born. Once we throw Meros in the harbour, the little one'll have a good life in the orphanage." she shrugs dismissively.
Campion would argue that having Merosiel as an only parent is a good death sentence for a baby as well, but...that's a little harsh, and he's still keeping quiet, dammit.
"That will likely be the ultimate fate for him, yes," Natharai murmurs lowly. "However, he has a few months... But, Grinne is correct, to a degree."
Lilifred rolls her eyes, "Smiley, I didn't think he got you too. We ain't a lost elf babysitting facility. Merosiel works in medical anyways. Merosiel's looked after by Auroran anyways. Tell me. When we find him, what's gonna happen to him to make him understand that he's in deep shit with us?"
"Won't lie," Peregrinne grunts, smoking furiously, still fixing a dark look at the gnome. "He's a friend, dammit. But I'll still do what needs to be done."
The warlock raises both of his hands in a slightly placating gesture, expression still somewhat tight as he regards the group with those unamused pale eyes. "There is no special treatment, aside that he is with child. He is aware that his life hangs in the balance, as does his child, and if he continues to hurt this family then they BOTH shall perish. But, for now, he shall remain in Auroran's care and do good work for the Kamil. If not, again, he will die."
Lilifred still isn't satisfied, but she backs down, pausing to take another pull off her cigar.
"I'm sure most of us understand the feeling of being trapped,with death hanging over our heads," Auroran says with newfound calm. "My kindness extends to you ALL, I would rather NO ONE die. But... if it does come down to it. I'll even do it myself." Auroran sits back down, blank-faced.
Campion looks up, meeting Nath's eyes questioningly. "...Permission to speak." Fear of Kamil higher-ups, or military conditioning? Maybe both.
Being they are in a business atmosphere, this time it does not insult Natharai when asked this. "Granted," he responds flatly
"So you're proposing..." The ex-crusader sounding a lot more calm as well now, at least, his voice and words measured as he gestures with his cigarette, describing whispy grey lines in the air. "That he simply be put into medical, under Auroran's care, with a verbal slap on the wrist and nothing more." He looks up at Nath again. Is that right?
"Tongue," Grinne grunts.
Lilifred's lips twitch up in a mild smile. "Yeah, his tongue. Take that shit out."
"Procrastin made it, so does he need to be consulted for removal?" Campion looks to Auro now. The elf nods slightly.
"Procrastin will pitch a fit otherwise, so yes."
"Yes, Miles... His tongue will be confiscated," Natharai confirms. "Additional punishment will likely be considered, however..." He sounds...rather serious about that.
"As well as being kept to Stormwind?" Campion goes on. "Nothing like house arrest, just forbidden to leave." He still speaks carefully, laying it all out for clarification. "And what if his Ebon Blade vultures come knocking." There's a faint growl in his voice at THAT.
Auroran nods. "I don't want those shits coming to my clinic."
Natharai's eyes close slightly, murmuring. "Then it will be dealt with should it happen... Merosiel already knows well enough that neither Auroran or myself care for that lot."
Peregrinne rolls a shoulder. "...Good thing about bein' in the middle of the city is... s'guards all over the place."
The warlock cracks an eye open lightly, looking at Grinne. "Well...We seem to manage just fine in Silvermoon..."
The thug shrugs. "Yeah, but we don't attack nobody in SIlvermoon."
Auroran's blank expression hasn't left his face. There's a lot going on under the surface that he can't properly express, hopefully there'll be no need for another outburst. He'd rather not be taken for a crazy again. Ears twitch slightly as he listens to the conversation quietly.
Campion still looks grim, stubbing out the remains of his cigarette. He's mulling over something else now. "...Did you confirm at all EVERYTHING Merosiel told these monsters, Natharai?"
"I was not able to, no," is the sighed response. "Though from what I could tell, Merosiel did not say much. But it was enough to Bloodflame to formulate his own thoughts on the matter."
The redhaired man grunts, crossing his arms. "...He told that piece of rubbish troll where Grinne and I live without a second fucking thought." Do you see what he's getting at here?
Yes. Yes he does. Another lengthy sigh through his nose as Natharai watches the fallen crusader. "...Then what do you propose we do then, Miles." His eyes flinch narrower, briefly, however. Might wanna choose your words carefully...
"I'm just confessing my...distress at this matter. If Ebon Knights show up at my doorstep..." His hands curl into fists and he goes stony-faced. "...I'll not be pleased." Understatement of the WORST kind.
The warlock smirks wanly as the fingers on his right hand drum upon the table once in a rhythmic pattern. Tap tap tap tap... "As far as I know, Miles, he only knows my name. And now Auroran's. Though Bloodflame already made it rather explicit that unless this happens again, there will be no further action taken against us, being this is, overall, not the Blade's concern. They have...larger things to worry about, after all."
The ex-crusader huffs. Good enough. But he's going to be on the WORST kind of edge now with this knowledge, this FEAR gestating in the back of his head. "Larger things," he laughs instead. "Certainly." His voice is tight again.
"Well then I guess it's no problem at all," Lilifred mutters sardonically. She doesn't really have much else to contribute to this conversation.
Grinne shoots Lilifred another frown, but that's all. The second cigarette is laid to smeary black rest next to the first one, and he refolds his arms.
Natharai, too, looks slightly to Lilifred and murmurs quietly. "Do try and understand that this is an aggravatingly nebulous situation we are in, Lilifred. Things are still being sorted out..." Lilifred nods and waves her hand, trailing smoke in the air.
"So.." Auroran half-sighs it.
"So," Campion echoes. "I suppose that's the best we can do and hope for in the meantime." He sounds tired more than anything now.
"Essentially so..." is the monotone reply from their underboss.
"Are we done, then? What do I tell him?" Auroran blinks slowly.
That is a good question... Hm. Natharai considers. "That he is not to leave Stormwind and he is now under your direct supervision. Until further orders, of course... You might wish to alert Procrastin that he may be required to remove the prosthetic tongue."
Auroran scratches his goatee. A small source of joy in an otherwise crappy meeting. "Will do. So this means I can't really leave Stormwind now either...?"
"No... That is hardly fair to you. However, perhaps you can establish some sort of link with him? I cannot say that I claim to know the intricacies of your mental connections, but if there is any way, save -my- methods, to at least keep a vague monitoring of location..."
"What of giving him work or missions," Campion adds. "I know I'LL not be handing him any, after the fantastic foul-up my attempt to get him to work had. And...Dangerous for the baby, I suppose," he mumbles as an afterthought.
Lilifred raises her hand politely. At the same time, the priest shrugs. "I cou-" He looks at the gnome blankly. Nath gestures to Lilifred. What's up?
"If you really want him to do some useful work, I need someone to do lots of really boring paper work and filing." She is serious about this too. Lilifred is really serious about a lot of things.
"I am fine with this..." The warlock glances to Auroran briefly. And you, shepherd?
"I don't mind, really," said shepherd replies. "Otherwise, he just helps out around the clinic. Hell, while we're here... I wouldn't mind some security there either. I deal with most crazies myself and it is a little stressful." Auro shrugs. "Being the only healer thus far is stressful too."
Campion is about to say something at the mention of healers, but...no. Nevermind. He shuts his mouth again, settling back in his seat and glancing at Grinne as though to check up on him. Grinne is still sitting, focusing on nothing in particular, frowning. He hasn't lit up another smoke, at least. He's just frowning, a 5'7" scar-faced stone wall.
"...Mm. We shall see what we can do to help with that, Auroran," says Natharai. "Regarding you being the only healer on duty... Until then, unless there are any other pressing issues, then that is all I have to say on this matter. Action will be taken. Merosiel will be dealt with."
Lilifred nods tiredly and busies herself with finishing her cigar. Okay, fine. Peregrinne sighs. "We good to go, then?"
Natharai heaves out a sigh as he reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose. He looks weary. "Good enough as we can be, I suppose. Thank you for coming."
Campion pushes himself up from the table with a nod. "Keep us posted, I suppose." Not a lot else needs to be said on the matter, it would seem. Punishment is settled on, as well as future outcomes and things to watch out for. Campion, with one last polite nod, exits the room and heads down the stairs with heavy, booted footfalls.
Grinne stands as well. "Lemme know." Hands in pockets, then, the thug crosses to the door, in much less a good mood than when he came in. He follows Campion, after throwing a farewell to the others. "Take care," he mutters, and then shuts the door.
"Of course..." Natharai is, likely, the last to leave. He offers polite, if not tired, nods or murmurs of farewell to those who leave. Other than that, he remains where he is to continue thinking.
Auroran has been sitting on the edge of his tipped-over chair all this time. He doesn't move quite yet, instead watching others make the motions to get up and go. Auroran stands at last, wandering off quietly and aimlessly.