How to gain entrance to Crom Hold.
RL Date: 11/26/07
IC Date: 5/6/14
You meander up the stairs to the residents' quarters.
Common Room, High Reaches Weyr(#868RIJLs)
This small cavern has the crisp smells of a recent cleaning, mingled with its more usual smells of klah, woodsmoke, and people. Baskets of glows are scattered about the room, lighting up dark corners and generally providing a cozy atmosphere. Several chairs sit at a large, round table, and more chairs are against the walls, waiting for use. A large, soft fur is spread out in front of a small stone hearth which keeps the cavern warm for its occupants.
Wyaeth> Jaireth senses that Wyaeth gives no warning, just jumps right on in like a dust storm; << N'thei's looking for B'yan. Where're you two? >>
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Jaireth is long in returning any kind of response, and he does it's with a dry gruffness. << On my ledge, >> he returns with apt briskness. << What ya need'im for? >>
Right around dinner time - or towards the end of it - there's not a whole lot of people in the common room. Just an old auntie napping in a chair before the warm hearth, and Amerie, sitting at the table. Typically poised, she sits up straight in a chair facing the door, pretending to work by idly pushing hides around - and seemingly sketching in the margins.
Wyaeth> I bespoke Jaireth with << What difference does it make? Tell him to come to this room-- >> In a hazy way, it does resemble the dormitory common room, as would be viewed if you'd just had a handful of dirt blown in your eyes. << N'thei's waiting. >>
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Jaireth sends the rolling thunder clouds of a warning for his manner, but the image sent is taken with idle interest before returning with << Yeah, yeah. He's comin'. >> He doesn't say whether it's right away or at his own choosing, however.
B'yan walks up the stairs from the caverns below.
B'yan has arrived.
Taking advantage of the time frame, N'thei shuffles in when the room is most apt to be quiet, carries with him a couple of rolled up hides and a pencil stuck behind his ear. At first, he greets the auntie with a flare of his nostrils and a heavy step toward her, but then the old woman gives a little snore and he ahhhs happily instead; after a glassy-eyed moment, dragon-chatter-type, he hesitates near the door for a few extra moments, waiting surreptitiously. Then, a step toward Amerie; "You're not actually working, I hope."
Whether on purpose or due to his dragon, B'yan is the last the arrive into the room. With slow steps, his eyes adjust to the dimmer room before stopping on two familiar figures. Furtively he casts a quick glance about the quiet room before he changes course and approaches near N'thei with hands shoving casually into his riding jacket. "You called?" he sends N'thei's way almost from behind, and his steely gaze then falls squarely on Amerie.
Thankfully for her, Amerie had the presence of mind to sit in sight of the door; N'thei's heavy tread has her flicking a dark, wary glance his way. Swiftly, she's sweeping up her hides with a few efficient, graceful motions - nothing to see here. "I do work," she points out archly. "At the moment, however, I was looking over my own notes." And doodling, possibly. As B'yan enters, she eyes the other bronzerider, meeting his gaze evenly with a mere arch of a fine brow.
"I did." N'thei answers B'yan with the further addition of a beckoning gesture, a request to be followed toward Amerie's table. There, he sets down the few hides and pulls out a chair with a flourish for B'yan. "Good. Then you're not working." His eyes fall briefly but surely on what can be seen of the girl's doodles while he moves around to a third chair. In summary; "We three need to talk."
B'yan's eyes fall on the various hides between the two, then archs a brow at the bronzerider's flourish as he steps from behind him. He doesn't take it until N'thei moves away, his attention falling on the other at the table with a lopsided grin. "And what -do- you do?" he levels at Amerie facetiously as he takes his seat. Gaze flicking over the hides she sweeps into her hands, he adds briefly to them both as he reclines back into the chair with both hands behind his head, "Alright. What's up?"
"Ah, you call him, but me - I can simply be interrupted at whatever /I'm/ doing." Amerie is predictably irritated - and as N'thei's eyes shift to her hides and the vague sketches of dresses in the margins, she becomes more so, pulling her stack of hides back, crossing arms atop them. Glancing at B'yan with a look, she says sharply, "I make sure what you two 'find' has a place to go." More generally, as she tries not to slouch in her chair, "Talk, then."
N'thei unrolls the largest hide he's brought, weights down his two corners with his beltknife and his flask and evidently expects the other two to find similar methods. "Yes, my dove, complain now and get it out of your system. --This is Crom Hold." Indeed it is, a map of the outer hold including the fireheights and courtyard with added markings like Guard1 and Watchdragon. "I want inside."
Deftly, as N'thei unrolls the large hide he has, B'yan pulls free a heavy knife from his side and sets it to his corner of the hide. Keeping his hand loosely on it, "You've been a busy girl," he drawls to Amerie's answer when he leans forward to view the map. With maps always catching an interest to him, his eyes seem to rake over it with unveiled interest. "Getting inside is usually easier than getting out," he drawls, taking his hand off the knife to trace a finger on the fireheights. "It should be easier now with the consent I've gotten from my contact to take care of the guards."
Amerie's expression is still stormy, but she's stopped bitching at least, contenting herself with giving N'thei dark looks across the map. As the tall girl produces her own flask from somewhere to appropriately weight her corner, she stands to lean over it. "Indeed," is her only comment to B'yan as her own dark eyes scan the map. "How long?" she asks. "How long, and how are they being taken care of? What time?"
With his teeth set to filing across his lower lip already, N'thei looks dubiously toward B'yan. "I count ten guards from midnight till dawn, six on the heights, two at the only outer stairway to the heights, two on the ground at the courtyard gate. These two--" He covers two east-facing guards with his first fingers. "These two are my men now. You have all eight?" A nod chases Amerie's questions, for his edification as well.
"With this." Arrogance leads B'yan to produce a single mark piece between two fingers over the map for them to see. "Rathe's a good man," he continues, looking from Amerie to N'thei. "He plays cards with the guards often, and some of them even owe him a favor or two. I'd say..." and he leans forward to looks at the map now as he pockets the mark, "...Rathe reckons we can ply all eight. He tells me one of the ones on the heights might be alittle troubleseome since he's a do-gooder, but he figures slipping something... temporary into his food before his shift should render him unavailable." Nodding, "They slip in one of the card players and that takes care of the eight."
"I was also asking," Amerie tells N'thei with a sidelong look, "How long you need to be in there." As B'yan produces the mark and explains his plan, her expression shades a touch skeptical. Tossing dark hair back out of her eyes as she looks over at him, she notes, "Are you quite sure they'll /all/ just up and and abandon posts without leaving someone in case they get checked on? And... you're awake that poisoning can be a little touch and go? If you kill the man, it's not likely to make anything better."
N'thei removes his fingers, slides them back across the map to the edge of the table, his eyes settled thoughtfully on B'yan's mark-example; "Mine abandon nothing. They agree to play at being jumped and overpowered by they-know-not-whom, saves face for them. --An hour, maybe less. Preferably without killing anyone, neh? I don't like to be staked for 'fall if it goes awry."
"Temporary," B'yan puts emphasis on the word to Amerie, head dipping into a slow nod as his gaze steadies on her. "It'll only make him sick until morning. Harmless, really." He says it with enough confidence to suggest he's familiar with such methods, but his dragon poker expression remains in place. "Don't worry," he now sends this as a benefit to N'thei. "Trust me. I've done this sort of thing before, and most of them are willing to turn a blind eye should they happen to find dragons on the premises late into the night." A wink is given to Amerie, then he returns to the map. "No one dies."
Pleased with her ability to poke holes in plans and generally be contrary, Amerie's mood seems to lift a touch, tone smoother - certainly less sharp. "An hour isn't very long, should you pick the right one. Late enough at night, and the guards are honestly the only people moving. The dragon might be the issue - though I admit I know nothing about them." B'yan's wink is met with a quirk of her lips; not impressed. "Trust me. Famous last words."
With the ends of his fingers drummed on the table, N'thei utters a quiet proclamation; "Problem." He holds a look to B'yan's arrogance, shakes his head at it. "Guards managed then, but what of the Telgari? We can't land dragons on the fireheights in plain sight, not with a Telgar watchdragon. --Amerie, we come in across the courtyard, up these stairs, across the heights, and through this hatch. Who sleeps in these rooms?" He shows a second hide then, a small and smudged map of the inner hold.
His chin lifting slightly, "I suggest we land the dragons somewhere discreet," B'yan sends as a suggestion to N'thei, Amerie's last words drawing a thin smirk from him. "I wouldn't try the fireheights for that very reason. Are you familiar with the surroundings of Crom?" he directs this last to Amerie first. "Anyplace that could conceal dragons?" Back to the map and shooting a look to N'thei, "Worst-case scenario, we have our dragons drop us off far from the Hold and we walk from there," he guesses idly. "They'll have to find a place to wait for our call," and now he gives the second hide presented scrutiny.
Eyeing the smaller map, Amerie purses her lips thoughtfully, tapping the hallway that's proposed to be used with a slender finger. "I doubt anyone has switched rooms since I left. The last that I was there - at the trader fair - they were still occupied by some older family members of the Lady's. They'll sleep soundly enough, I think. As long as there's nothing too loud happening." For B'yan's question, she admits, straightening, "I'll need a minute to think about that."
N'thei scratches at a blot of ink on the littler hide, though it does him no good, and he winds up sliding it across the table toward Amerie with a spin. "Can't put them too far. Four men carrying bags can't cut off across country in the dark, half-mile at most." He leans back in his chair, looks to the other two, and stews in his thoughts.
Hunching alittle further to study the map with furrowed brows, "That's true," B'yan agrees to not being too far from the Hold, "But we would have to measure the distance for the Telgari's sake. A half-mile should do it, provided we have our dragons Between and fly in lower to the ground. The higher up in the sky we are, the more easily we can be seen." He nods once to Amerie's answer and traces a finger along his jaw as he keep study of the Hold. Then cutting his eyes to N'thei, "You're planning on having us go out the same way we came in?" he asks.
"I hate to come back to this, but are you sure this is worth doing?" Amerie takes possession of the smaller hide with a glance across it to N'thei. As she sits again slowly, she eyes the inner corridors of the Hold, tracing the path idly. "It'll have to be well-timed. And a half-mile. That makes it more difficult." Thoughtful now, she flicks a glance to the still-dozing old woman by the fire, murmuring, "There's an abandoned mine site at the end of a chain of them; about seven, eight hills. If you're careful..." A nod for B'yan's mentioned precautions, "I think it might work."
"I am." N'thei slouches lower in his chair, his elbows rested on arms of his seat and his fingers laced across to cover his mouth, to hide his contemplative frown. His forehead dips toward the larger map; "Unless you know of a better way." He answers Amerie's question in silence, meets her eyes with his own, full of cold certainty. "We'll have a test-run to eyesight of the gates soon."
Amerie's suggestion about the mines get B'yan's attention, and he turns an eye of approval onto her briefly. Following her gaze over to the old woman, "Perhaps I'll figure something out," he offers to finding another way, finally leaning away from the maps a bit with an easier look on the matter. "We're relying on some probabilities here, but that can be worked in our favor. The plan has merit." Looking from one to the other before nodding in agreement, "A discreet test-run should answer alot of our concerns on the matter."
Amerie lifts hands up in a warding gesture to N'thei, meeting light eyes with confident, amused dark ones - just asking. Dropping them back to the arms of her own chair, she shrugs diffidently. "Observation, testing is certainly a good idea. And it should fill in some gaps." With another skeptical look for B'yan, though her tone is pleasant enough, "If you 'figure something out', do run it by me. In case you're proposing to sneak past the Lord's chambers. Though it'd be entertaining, it's hardly worth it."
The corners of N'thei's eyes crease and the apples of his cheeks raise; likely, he smiles at Amerie behind the bridge of his fingers. "I've been over it in my mind ten-thousand times, but seeing it can't hurt. --Nowhere near the Lord's apartments, my dove. Just this storeroom." He reaches a thick finger to tap an unmarked storeroom, to say, "I'm told there's plenty worth having in there, Crom's finest. B'yan, find us a fence for what's worth selling?"
B'yan turns a smooth, mockign smile at the words Amerie sends his way, imitating her pleasantness with "And run it by you I will. Wouldn't want you to think a man like me -lives- to catch myself sneaking past the Lord's chambers." Sniffing and lacing his fingers together on the table, "While your concern touches my heart, I bid you don't worry. -I- won't be the one to jeopardize this," and briefly he sweeps fingers towards the large map of the Hold in indication. Once N'thei's finger catches his attention, he shifts his own to sight down at where he points. The question gets a drawled out chuckle and slow tip of his head, "Done. That's the easy part."
"In your mind, it goes perfectly." Amerie glances back to the smaller map with a quirk of her own lips, one of her smaller smiles. "As for the storeroom, I know I didn't generally get let in it, if that's enough of a confirmation." Shifting in her seat to address B'yan, she notes, "You're seeing offense where I didn't actually mean it - but I guess it's not difficult. In any case, all I expected is that you wouldn't know the Hold as well as I do." And she's sincere enough about that, though the man's last has her adding, "If you weren't so /laid-back/ about all this, however, it might be easier to be confident in your abilities."
N'thei shakes his head; "In my mind, we all get caught and I fancy how many of Telgar's riders get a beating before they have me in irons." The smile deepens, shown when he takes away his hands, rather plain that he doesn't fear capture as much as he should. "Laid-back? This has kept me up nights since you and I first talked of it. As for my co-conspirator." He raises a questioning look toward B'yan, starts from his seat, hunched over his maps. "Just your way is it, B'yan? Flippant, eh?"
"Not as well as you, no," B'yan is quick to agree with a three-second smile, "But every Hold's the same in my eyes. Same rooms, same people, just different make-ups." Leaning back, "There -is- a certain... temerity in getting caught and bashing heads in," he seems to agree with N'thei with a wider smirk. "But that was before profit became my sole objective." As to Amerie's last on his laid back methods, the bronzerider simply passes a snort her way, then to N'thei, "I see no point in losing sleep," he admits dryly. "The dragons and the Telgaris may be a slight problem, but other than that I would rather walk into Crom with shrewd confidence than walk in with anxiety." Looking between them both, "I trust my skills," he adds boldly. "It's the rest of you that might cause me to lose sleep at night."
Amerie just looks at N'thei for a long moment in vague disbelief; turning her gaze down to the table, she shakes her head as she flicks the smaller hide atop the others and gathers her own into her lap. "I'd think they'd just have as many jump you at once as possible. So likely not enough for you to actually /enjoy/ any beating." Or so she'd have the larger man think, at least. Curious for B'yan's answer, she looks over at him expectantly, resting elbow on table, chin in hand. With a laugh, she just grins over at him. "If being prepared is being anxious, I'll take it. You sound like you're convincing yourself."
N'thei echoes with a snide occasion in his voice, "Profit. You get paid when it all goes aright, sir. Clean these up before you leave?" He indicates the shuffled hides with a wobble of his palm, the palm that goes on to put away his knife and his flask, to withdraw a fist-sized bag with promising bulges. "/You/ get paid now, just in case it all falls apart." He puts the bag on the table in front of Amerie and finishes rising. Humorous; "I thank you both for the votes of confidence."
"You sound like you have something against profit, wingrider," B'yan directs this at N'thei with a crooked smirk as he finally takes up his own knife and slips it away. He watches the pouch fall before Amerie with a raised amused brow, then chuckles shortly to her last comment. Straightening in the chair, "Perhaps it's not me that needs convincing," is all he says to that, but he does send a half bow towards N'thei at his own last remark. "I'll talk to Rathe and make sure things are still running smooth," he offers evenly. "I'll suggest to him to keep the guards pliant for when we really need them."
Amerie seems entirely stunned by the bag in front of her - though she manages to school herself back into neutrality quickly enough. Not touching or opening it just yet, she reaches around it to retrieve her flask as she gives N'thei an unreadable glance. "Thank you," she says, again sincere, thought slower about it this time. Her attention shifting B'yan's way, she gives him a nod - fair point - and even manages a half-smile for the offer. "And thank you. It's not confidence I lack in anyone here - It's confidence I have in that place being slightly paranoid at the moment."
Innocent; "Do I sound that way? Self-righteous of me, isn't it." N'thei smiles tolerance to B'yan, then swings his coat round his shoulders and slides his arms into the sleeves. "Thank you for your help, Amerie, I'll look to the minehold tonight, see if it's findable in the dark. I trust you with the guards and the fence, B'yan. Goodnight to both of you." There's a nod tipped to each, a fine end to a purely social call, and he leaves quietly under-cover of the old woman's continued snores.
You wander out to the hallway and caverns below.
IC Date: 5/6/14
You meander up the stairs to the residents' quarters.
Common Room, High Reaches Weyr(#868RIJLs)
This small cavern has the crisp smells of a recent cleaning, mingled with its more usual smells of klah, woodsmoke, and people. Baskets of glows are scattered about the room, lighting up dark corners and generally providing a cozy atmosphere. Several chairs sit at a large, round table, and more chairs are against the walls, waiting for use. A large, soft fur is spread out in front of a small stone hearth which keeps the cavern warm for its occupants.
Wyaeth> Jaireth senses that Wyaeth gives no warning, just jumps right on in like a dust storm; << N'thei's looking for B'yan. Where're you two? >>
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Jaireth is long in returning any kind of response, and he does it's with a dry gruffness. << On my ledge, >> he returns with apt briskness. << What ya need'im for? >>
Right around dinner time - or towards the end of it - there's not a whole lot of people in the common room. Just an old auntie napping in a chair before the warm hearth, and Amerie, sitting at the table. Typically poised, she sits up straight in a chair facing the door, pretending to work by idly pushing hides around - and seemingly sketching in the margins.
Wyaeth> I bespoke Jaireth with << What difference does it make? Tell him to come to this room-- >> In a hazy way, it does resemble the dormitory common room, as would be viewed if you'd just had a handful of dirt blown in your eyes. << N'thei's waiting. >>
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Jaireth sends the rolling thunder clouds of a warning for his manner, but the image sent is taken with idle interest before returning with << Yeah, yeah. He's comin'. >> He doesn't say whether it's right away or at his own choosing, however.
B'yan walks up the stairs from the caverns below.
B'yan has arrived.
Taking advantage of the time frame, N'thei shuffles in when the room is most apt to be quiet, carries with him a couple of rolled up hides and a pencil stuck behind his ear. At first, he greets the auntie with a flare of his nostrils and a heavy step toward her, but then the old woman gives a little snore and he ahhhs happily instead; after a glassy-eyed moment, dragon-chatter-type, he hesitates near the door for a few extra moments, waiting surreptitiously. Then, a step toward Amerie; "You're not actually working, I hope."
Whether on purpose or due to his dragon, B'yan is the last the arrive into the room. With slow steps, his eyes adjust to the dimmer room before stopping on two familiar figures. Furtively he casts a quick glance about the quiet room before he changes course and approaches near N'thei with hands shoving casually into his riding jacket. "You called?" he sends N'thei's way almost from behind, and his steely gaze then falls squarely on Amerie.
Thankfully for her, Amerie had the presence of mind to sit in sight of the door; N'thei's heavy tread has her flicking a dark, wary glance his way. Swiftly, she's sweeping up her hides with a few efficient, graceful motions - nothing to see here. "I do work," she points out archly. "At the moment, however, I was looking over my own notes." And doodling, possibly. As B'yan enters, she eyes the other bronzerider, meeting his gaze evenly with a mere arch of a fine brow.
"I did." N'thei answers B'yan with the further addition of a beckoning gesture, a request to be followed toward Amerie's table. There, he sets down the few hides and pulls out a chair with a flourish for B'yan. "Good. Then you're not working." His eyes fall briefly but surely on what can be seen of the girl's doodles while he moves around to a third chair. In summary; "We three need to talk."
B'yan's eyes fall on the various hides between the two, then archs a brow at the bronzerider's flourish as he steps from behind him. He doesn't take it until N'thei moves away, his attention falling on the other at the table with a lopsided grin. "And what -do- you do?" he levels at Amerie facetiously as he takes his seat. Gaze flicking over the hides she sweeps into her hands, he adds briefly to them both as he reclines back into the chair with both hands behind his head, "Alright. What's up?"
"Ah, you call him, but me - I can simply be interrupted at whatever /I'm/ doing." Amerie is predictably irritated - and as N'thei's eyes shift to her hides and the vague sketches of dresses in the margins, she becomes more so, pulling her stack of hides back, crossing arms atop them. Glancing at B'yan with a look, she says sharply, "I make sure what you two 'find' has a place to go." More generally, as she tries not to slouch in her chair, "Talk, then."
N'thei unrolls the largest hide he's brought, weights down his two corners with his beltknife and his flask and evidently expects the other two to find similar methods. "Yes, my dove, complain now and get it out of your system. --This is Crom Hold." Indeed it is, a map of the outer hold including the fireheights and courtyard with added markings like Guard1 and Watchdragon. "I want inside."
Deftly, as N'thei unrolls the large hide he has, B'yan pulls free a heavy knife from his side and sets it to his corner of the hide. Keeping his hand loosely on it, "You've been a busy girl," he drawls to Amerie's answer when he leans forward to view the map. With maps always catching an interest to him, his eyes seem to rake over it with unveiled interest. "Getting inside is usually easier than getting out," he drawls, taking his hand off the knife to trace a finger on the fireheights. "It should be easier now with the consent I've gotten from my contact to take care of the guards."
Amerie's expression is still stormy, but she's stopped bitching at least, contenting herself with giving N'thei dark looks across the map. As the tall girl produces her own flask from somewhere to appropriately weight her corner, she stands to lean over it. "Indeed," is her only comment to B'yan as her own dark eyes scan the map. "How long?" she asks. "How long, and how are they being taken care of? What time?"
With his teeth set to filing across his lower lip already, N'thei looks dubiously toward B'yan. "I count ten guards from midnight till dawn, six on the heights, two at the only outer stairway to the heights, two on the ground at the courtyard gate. These two--" He covers two east-facing guards with his first fingers. "These two are my men now. You have all eight?" A nod chases Amerie's questions, for his edification as well.
"With this." Arrogance leads B'yan to produce a single mark piece between two fingers over the map for them to see. "Rathe's a good man," he continues, looking from Amerie to N'thei. "He plays cards with the guards often, and some of them even owe him a favor or two. I'd say..." and he leans forward to looks at the map now as he pockets the mark, "...Rathe reckons we can ply all eight. He tells me one of the ones on the heights might be alittle troubleseome since he's a do-gooder, but he figures slipping something... temporary into his food before his shift should render him unavailable." Nodding, "They slip in one of the card players and that takes care of the eight."
"I was also asking," Amerie tells N'thei with a sidelong look, "How long you need to be in there." As B'yan produces the mark and explains his plan, her expression shades a touch skeptical. Tossing dark hair back out of her eyes as she looks over at him, she notes, "Are you quite sure they'll /all/ just up and and abandon posts without leaving someone in case they get checked on? And... you're awake that poisoning can be a little touch and go? If you kill the man, it's not likely to make anything better."
N'thei removes his fingers, slides them back across the map to the edge of the table, his eyes settled thoughtfully on B'yan's mark-example; "Mine abandon nothing. They agree to play at being jumped and overpowered by they-know-not-whom, saves face for them. --An hour, maybe less. Preferably without killing anyone, neh? I don't like to be staked for 'fall if it goes awry."
"Temporary," B'yan puts emphasis on the word to Amerie, head dipping into a slow nod as his gaze steadies on her. "It'll only make him sick until morning. Harmless, really." He says it with enough confidence to suggest he's familiar with such methods, but his dragon poker expression remains in place. "Don't worry," he now sends this as a benefit to N'thei. "Trust me. I've done this sort of thing before, and most of them are willing to turn a blind eye should they happen to find dragons on the premises late into the night." A wink is given to Amerie, then he returns to the map. "No one dies."
Pleased with her ability to poke holes in plans and generally be contrary, Amerie's mood seems to lift a touch, tone smoother - certainly less sharp. "An hour isn't very long, should you pick the right one. Late enough at night, and the guards are honestly the only people moving. The dragon might be the issue - though I admit I know nothing about them." B'yan's wink is met with a quirk of her lips; not impressed. "Trust me. Famous last words."
With the ends of his fingers drummed on the table, N'thei utters a quiet proclamation; "Problem." He holds a look to B'yan's arrogance, shakes his head at it. "Guards managed then, but what of the Telgari? We can't land dragons on the fireheights in plain sight, not with a Telgar watchdragon. --Amerie, we come in across the courtyard, up these stairs, across the heights, and through this hatch. Who sleeps in these rooms?" He shows a second hide then, a small and smudged map of the inner hold.
His chin lifting slightly, "I suggest we land the dragons somewhere discreet," B'yan sends as a suggestion to N'thei, Amerie's last words drawing a thin smirk from him. "I wouldn't try the fireheights for that very reason. Are you familiar with the surroundings of Crom?" he directs this last to Amerie first. "Anyplace that could conceal dragons?" Back to the map and shooting a look to N'thei, "Worst-case scenario, we have our dragons drop us off far from the Hold and we walk from there," he guesses idly. "They'll have to find a place to wait for our call," and now he gives the second hide presented scrutiny.
Eyeing the smaller map, Amerie purses her lips thoughtfully, tapping the hallway that's proposed to be used with a slender finger. "I doubt anyone has switched rooms since I left. The last that I was there - at the trader fair - they were still occupied by some older family members of the Lady's. They'll sleep soundly enough, I think. As long as there's nothing too loud happening." For B'yan's question, she admits, straightening, "I'll need a minute to think about that."
N'thei scratches at a blot of ink on the littler hide, though it does him no good, and he winds up sliding it across the table toward Amerie with a spin. "Can't put them too far. Four men carrying bags can't cut off across country in the dark, half-mile at most." He leans back in his chair, looks to the other two, and stews in his thoughts.
Hunching alittle further to study the map with furrowed brows, "That's true," B'yan agrees to not being too far from the Hold, "But we would have to measure the distance for the Telgari's sake. A half-mile should do it, provided we have our dragons Between and fly in lower to the ground. The higher up in the sky we are, the more easily we can be seen." He nods once to Amerie's answer and traces a finger along his jaw as he keep study of the Hold. Then cutting his eyes to N'thei, "You're planning on having us go out the same way we came in?" he asks.
"I hate to come back to this, but are you sure this is worth doing?" Amerie takes possession of the smaller hide with a glance across it to N'thei. As she sits again slowly, she eyes the inner corridors of the Hold, tracing the path idly. "It'll have to be well-timed. And a half-mile. That makes it more difficult." Thoughtful now, she flicks a glance to the still-dozing old woman by the fire, murmuring, "There's an abandoned mine site at the end of a chain of them; about seven, eight hills. If you're careful..." A nod for B'yan's mentioned precautions, "I think it might work."
"I am." N'thei slouches lower in his chair, his elbows rested on arms of his seat and his fingers laced across to cover his mouth, to hide his contemplative frown. His forehead dips toward the larger map; "Unless you know of a better way." He answers Amerie's question in silence, meets her eyes with his own, full of cold certainty. "We'll have a test-run to eyesight of the gates soon."
Amerie's suggestion about the mines get B'yan's attention, and he turns an eye of approval onto her briefly. Following her gaze over to the old woman, "Perhaps I'll figure something out," he offers to finding another way, finally leaning away from the maps a bit with an easier look on the matter. "We're relying on some probabilities here, but that can be worked in our favor. The plan has merit." Looking from one to the other before nodding in agreement, "A discreet test-run should answer alot of our concerns on the matter."
Amerie lifts hands up in a warding gesture to N'thei, meeting light eyes with confident, amused dark ones - just asking. Dropping them back to the arms of her own chair, she shrugs diffidently. "Observation, testing is certainly a good idea. And it should fill in some gaps." With another skeptical look for B'yan, though her tone is pleasant enough, "If you 'figure something out', do run it by me. In case you're proposing to sneak past the Lord's chambers. Though it'd be entertaining, it's hardly worth it."
The corners of N'thei's eyes crease and the apples of his cheeks raise; likely, he smiles at Amerie behind the bridge of his fingers. "I've been over it in my mind ten-thousand times, but seeing it can't hurt. --Nowhere near the Lord's apartments, my dove. Just this storeroom." He reaches a thick finger to tap an unmarked storeroom, to say, "I'm told there's plenty worth having in there, Crom's finest. B'yan, find us a fence for what's worth selling?"
B'yan turns a smooth, mockign smile at the words Amerie sends his way, imitating her pleasantness with "And run it by you I will. Wouldn't want you to think a man like me -lives- to catch myself sneaking past the Lord's chambers." Sniffing and lacing his fingers together on the table, "While your concern touches my heart, I bid you don't worry. -I- won't be the one to jeopardize this," and briefly he sweeps fingers towards the large map of the Hold in indication. Once N'thei's finger catches his attention, he shifts his own to sight down at where he points. The question gets a drawled out chuckle and slow tip of his head, "Done. That's the easy part."
"In your mind, it goes perfectly." Amerie glances back to the smaller map with a quirk of her own lips, one of her smaller smiles. "As for the storeroom, I know I didn't generally get let in it, if that's enough of a confirmation." Shifting in her seat to address B'yan, she notes, "You're seeing offense where I didn't actually mean it - but I guess it's not difficult. In any case, all I expected is that you wouldn't know the Hold as well as I do." And she's sincere enough about that, though the man's last has her adding, "If you weren't so /laid-back/ about all this, however, it might be easier to be confident in your abilities."
N'thei shakes his head; "In my mind, we all get caught and I fancy how many of Telgar's riders get a beating before they have me in irons." The smile deepens, shown when he takes away his hands, rather plain that he doesn't fear capture as much as he should. "Laid-back? This has kept me up nights since you and I first talked of it. As for my co-conspirator." He raises a questioning look toward B'yan, starts from his seat, hunched over his maps. "Just your way is it, B'yan? Flippant, eh?"
"Not as well as you, no," B'yan is quick to agree with a three-second smile, "But every Hold's the same in my eyes. Same rooms, same people, just different make-ups." Leaning back, "There -is- a certain... temerity in getting caught and bashing heads in," he seems to agree with N'thei with a wider smirk. "But that was before profit became my sole objective." As to Amerie's last on his laid back methods, the bronzerider simply passes a snort her way, then to N'thei, "I see no point in losing sleep," he admits dryly. "The dragons and the Telgaris may be a slight problem, but other than that I would rather walk into Crom with shrewd confidence than walk in with anxiety." Looking between them both, "I trust my skills," he adds boldly. "It's the rest of you that might cause me to lose sleep at night."
Amerie just looks at N'thei for a long moment in vague disbelief; turning her gaze down to the table, she shakes her head as she flicks the smaller hide atop the others and gathers her own into her lap. "I'd think they'd just have as many jump you at once as possible. So likely not enough for you to actually /enjoy/ any beating." Or so she'd have the larger man think, at least. Curious for B'yan's answer, she looks over at him expectantly, resting elbow on table, chin in hand. With a laugh, she just grins over at him. "If being prepared is being anxious, I'll take it. You sound like you're convincing yourself."
N'thei echoes with a snide occasion in his voice, "Profit. You get paid when it all goes aright, sir. Clean these up before you leave?" He indicates the shuffled hides with a wobble of his palm, the palm that goes on to put away his knife and his flask, to withdraw a fist-sized bag with promising bulges. "/You/ get paid now, just in case it all falls apart." He puts the bag on the table in front of Amerie and finishes rising. Humorous; "I thank you both for the votes of confidence."
"You sound like you have something against profit, wingrider," B'yan directs this at N'thei with a crooked smirk as he finally takes up his own knife and slips it away. He watches the pouch fall before Amerie with a raised amused brow, then chuckles shortly to her last comment. Straightening in the chair, "Perhaps it's not me that needs convincing," is all he says to that, but he does send a half bow towards N'thei at his own last remark. "I'll talk to Rathe and make sure things are still running smooth," he offers evenly. "I'll suggest to him to keep the guards pliant for when we really need them."
Amerie seems entirely stunned by the bag in front of her - though she manages to school herself back into neutrality quickly enough. Not touching or opening it just yet, she reaches around it to retrieve her flask as she gives N'thei an unreadable glance. "Thank you," she says, again sincere, thought slower about it this time. Her attention shifting B'yan's way, she gives him a nod - fair point - and even manages a half-smile for the offer. "And thank you. It's not confidence I lack in anyone here - It's confidence I have in that place being slightly paranoid at the moment."
Innocent; "Do I sound that way? Self-righteous of me, isn't it." N'thei smiles tolerance to B'yan, then swings his coat round his shoulders and slides his arms into the sleeves. "Thank you for your help, Amerie, I'll look to the minehold tonight, see if it's findable in the dark. I trust you with the guards and the fence, B'yan. Goodnight to both of you." There's a nod tipped to each, a fine end to a purely social call, and he leaves quietly under-cover of the old woman's continued snores.
You wander out to the hallway and caverns below.