HereComesTheSnow — Roleplayer Guild

Amerigo Spadoni

South edge of South Pearl Harbour -> Castle Gardens, Present Day
@AWildSquirtle@Estylwen

Amerigo, for his part, had always packed rather light on long voyages, preferring not to let too much in the way of personal effects weigh him down, clog wherever aboard the ship he was inevitably to be stowed (even as a brother, lodgings were often only so spacious on a trade vessel), or run the risk of being lost. Preparation for disembarking was a simple matter of reaching into the small cranny, covered by a discarded spare coat, where a fair-sized cloth pouch of jingling coins had lain hidden for nigh on three months at sea. Slipping it into an inner pocket of his current jacket, by the time they had moored he was right there with Aubri, and readily offering an easy smirk and shrug in response to the idea. Wherever the other man had planned on going, he had his duties to follow, anyway—

"Hup."

Though, the gangplank evidently was exempt from the list, as the Brother instead took the express route down to terra firma— vaulting his way over the side of the railing to crash onto the slick stone of the pier like a star falling to the earth. Maybe the lack of structured unboarding, responsibility to the vessel once berthed, or harassment by local port authority drove the idea forward where those concerns otherwise would hold it back— or maybe it was just a boyish impulse to enjoy the feeling of a split-second of freefall, after needing to mind one's footing much more closely, even when a comfortable mariner. Either way, his heavy boots collided and held, and he seemed none the worse for wear as he rose again out of the crouch he had taken to ride out the shock of the impact, turning to regard Aubri's moment of reckoning with solidity with an amused look.

Well, not that he could blame him overmuch. It had been ages for him too, after all, returning to this feeling after crossing the seas so long.

"Let's be off, then, Boss." he intoned rather airily, as their eyes both drifted to the executioner's platform, shielded from the raging flames by the wide tiles of stone on all sides. While the easy grin hadn't faded from his face, his gaze held the platform in view for one, two, three seconds...

And the slid away, gliding over the surroundings as they ambled froth into the chaotic ruins that had become of most of the pierside districts of the capital. Their jaunt was a dissonantly unbothered one, given the surrounding bedlam— Amerigo largely let Aubri keep the lead, save for moments where it was necessary to weigh in as bodyguard. Mainly things like keeping an uninvolved distance from most active looting sprees, surreptitiously flashing the pommel of his sword and an inviting smile to those that tried to include the exotic and fancily-dressed foreigners as a victim of one, and steering away from any place that looked too easy to pin them down in, provided he recognized a dead end or the like from that same mental map.  

There was an acrid smell on the wind as they made their way through the small channel. While there was little telling what the diplomat ahead of him had seen it life before he'd met, it was noxious and familiar to the nose of a man that had been a born and bred soldier— the ashes of those that could not escape the blaze. Putrid enough to make you wretch when you weren't ready for it. Not all that much better when you were, but the same punch in the face you withstood a moment ago could become a knockout if it hit you blind. His glanced around them one more time, trying to guess at the ominous, familiar feeling to the atmosphere. It wasn't the smoke, it wasn't the heat, it wasn't the burning flesh. Those he could handle, those he could trace. This was something different.

He watched Aubri interject himself into a heated dispute between two kids, a pale changeling and a dusky-skinned angelite, damn near snapping a locket of fine gold in their bids to claim it from one another. The latter intent to preserve the memories of a lost family for a Lady she was in service to... the former, intent on plundering it to fund a Rebellion. If he heard it right, one this dead mother was connected to. What a mess. 

And in the gardens, too. An estate just a few paces away from the walls of Castle Hathforth itself—

"He's right, you know." the tall swordsman added, all but towering over the pair as he ambled up close. With a thumb, he clicked his blade an inch free from the sheath— and the young girl's divine magic shattered in her palm like a window that'd burst from the heat. For a moment, he afforded Aubri a small, curious glance as he heard the attempt at hiding his accent— and then, shrugging, slipped into a fairly leveled-off midcountry Arrowfellian to follow his lead. "And if you two snap the chains, neither of you'll be able to put that locket to any use. Your Rebellion or your Lady— both would lose."

He knelt, reaching into his coat pocket, regarding both with cool steely eyes.

"This day is already one of loss and tragedy. Look around, the city burns. Is there not a way we might be able to settle this so that nobody has to lose any more? Money and memories both have value, but the former changes hands easy, the latter you can't sell—"

He was halfway through pulling the pouch from his coat pocket to count out a reasonable sum to exchange for the locket when it hit his ears. It was faint enough that less sharp ears might have missed it: a chittering, warbling, trilling cry, not so far in the distance and bouncing off the stone of the castle and fine estates. A cicada, mixed with a stag and a bear, all in a twisted facsimile of speech. In the castle's direction, no less. Immediately, his bearing changed from a chiding man to alerted hound, like when he stepped onto a faraway port in a pirate haven. He could not understand the foul, twisted words that were carried in the sound, no person touched by the All-Force could, but—

"So do eachother a favor, and consider it bought regardless. We're about to have some rowdy company."

In what must have seemed a flash of movement, the young changeling's grip on the chain was overcome by Amerigo's strength, and the pouch in its entirety was flung free of the pocket, free of the Brother, to replace it as the necklace was similarly tossed into the arms of the angelite. Amerigo was on his feet again, gaze locked upon the walls, and the keep beyond them, but a few hundred yards away at most. He had a way of looking down his nose at people normally— even before he'd earned a Brotherhood, he had a knack for smug antics even in the midst of the heat of battle.

Notably, this time, he was looking up through his brow, as the corners of his mouth turned up, a beast on the hunt and baring his fangs. He had no time to talk out their quarrel or be terribly gentle with it.

— he had been a sworn Brother more than long enough to recognize the vile tongue of the denizens of Dremora's Shade made manifest in the world of men. The risk one always with magic. Demons in his ears, only thirty minutes after he'd touched the land. What a warm welcoming party. Few favors better to show up with than one or more of those things' rotten heads.

"If you find that pittance not enough for you to part with that bauble for," Amerigo called in a loud voice, reaching down for his hip. "Allow me to sweeten the bargain."

The air sang with sharpness, as beneath the ornate swept basket hilt, there was revealed the blade of his Bilbao. Once a rough-hewn double-edge of beached coral, time and measure had seen the Brother shape his bone-white blade into a long, razor keen, and polished fang as strong as any steel one might find. That it guarded against the arcane as well would without a doubt be what made the difference for them here— and in Arrowfell at large, in all likelihood.

But those were tomorrow's concerns. Today, he had a job to do.

"Stick close to us and play nice, both of you. You do that, and we can guarantee your safety. Aubri, keep your eyes open. Tell me if we're being flanked."
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