Second Gift

Participants:

Jarvys.jpg Marcellan (NPC)

Date: November 21, 2010
Location: Southern Hold
Synopsis: Jarvys has given his daughter one gift. He arranges for another. Directly after A Day in the Life of a Gold Mark
Rating: PG
Logger: Jarvys

Marcellan sits in a seat at the festivities, and sips his foul concoction. There's nothing like a plebeian wedding to bring out the worst kinds of booze. He gazes around the room, watches the old man stop, turn and look intently at the bride before continuing on his way toward the table. A snort passes his lips, and he takes another long swig. He loses sight of his acquaintance for a few moments, and nods quickly and appreciatively at the changes wrought in the man in such a few moments.

Jarvys spots his quarry quickly, heading straight toward him. “Afternoon.” He nods, and sits down, making it appear for all the world like he's airily discussing the weather and the crops like an old uncle. Somewhere between his daughter and this table, the knot has disappeared, and a jacket has appeared to cover the bright red of the tunic he wears.

“Mmmm.” Marcellan will take the bait, and lean back in his seat, and mutter some odd reply, like “Well, of course, the crops are bad this year…” before narrowing his eyes and gazing straight at the man, totally belying his easy posture. “What's the job, then, Kellar?”

Jarvys gives a small smile. “It's not what you think. It's quite the opposite actually. I may be going soft in my old age.” He rolls his eyes at the thought, and then stops to drink his drink. “Foul stuff.” He says this more loudly, and raises his glass, as though he's merely toasting the couple. In his way, he is. “Cheusia and Bowen.”

“Right. Handfasting. S'why we're all here. And why you're looking a bit soft around the edges, old man.” Marcellan gives a quiet jab, before nattering something else for the eavesdroppers who continue to walk around them, looking for juicy gossip.

“I want a protection detail on them. At least for the first seven.” Jarvys drops his bombshell, totally ignoring the younger man's taunt. “I have enemies, and I think she may as well. She has become … important to me.” He takes another drink, this time to cover up the presence of emotion in his voice. “If someone should discover that, and hurt them…” He lets his threat trail off, but his expression turns cold.

“Right. Think I can do that. I'm assuming they're not to know?” Marcellan's Harper training reappears in his elocution.

“Of course. And here is half my price, and the other half at the end of the seven. Split it how you wish.” Jarvys throws a couple wooden coins on the table.

Marcellan grabs them up, caroling loudly. “Haha, told you not to bet against me, old man! You'll lose every time!” More quietly he adds, “This'll do. I'll get a couple of the runts to do it.”

Jarvys is satisfied, however, for appearances sake, he grumbles before heading off to find L'han and head back to Southern.



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