RP LOG: Camus/Roget
Roget handed over some potch for his tankard of beer and gave the beer mistress a smile before he heads over to his usual spot in the middle of the pub.
Camus had been out in the stables all afternoon, working on his tack and trying to glean any information that he could overhear from the other people working around him. At dusk, smelling of horse and defeated in finding out more information about the goings-on, he retired to the castle, and after a bath went to the one place he knew he would find information = the pub. After procuring a pint from the barkeep, he looked around for a likely source, and on spotting the young gentleman he had met a few days ago, one that had seemed friendly and chatty, he made his way towards the table. "May I sit here?"
Roget looked up at the knight and smiled brightly. "Sure ye can!" he said and pushed the chair out for the knight using his foot, "Please, sit, take a load off, mate, ye look like ye could use a break."
"Thank you." Camus smiled slightly, sitting himself opposite the young man. "Your name is Roget, correct?"
"Aye, that it is," Roget flashed him a smile, "And Ye're Sir Camus, right?"
Camus nodded, settling down and taking a draught of the beer in his hand. "Yes, but please, just Camus is fine in such a colloquial environment." He takes another sip, sighing. "It is quite cozy in here at this time of night, a far cry from the stories that are traveling these walls as of late."
"Camus it is then!" Roget said and help up his tankard and took a swig from it. "So, ye heard the stories goin' 'round huh? Which ones have ye heard?"
"Disturbing ones, to be truthful. I have heard that there is a man lying in the infirmary, wounded by Luca Blight's blade, and that the Castle Master has gone missing." Camus shook his head, looking into his tankard. "Unsettling rumors."
"Aye, they are." Roget looked into his tankard, took another swig and looked at Camus, "I dun know much 'bout the Castle Master missing, but I do know that Mr. Blight is accusing a lot of people about bein' involded with the Castle Master's disaperence and Yuber's," he scowled at the name, "being set free from the the dungeons." His scowl deepened, "Me self amongst those people."
Camus raised his eyebrows slightly - he hadn't heard about Yuber. "I was to understand that Blight had been...somewhat reformed?" His tone indicates his doubt of the situation.
Roget shurged and took another gulp of his beer. "I dunno. Seems outta control to me, but I've only been here a month"
"The man was an unstable presence in my time....until this place, I had thought him dead." Camus' voice suggests that perhaps Luca's death should have been more permanent. "However, he is here now, and apparently causing some trouble, but why would he target you and your friends?"
Unseen to both speakers, Richmond sits quietly by, sipping an orange juice and eavesdropping as best as he can in the crowded tavern.
"I was one of the "thugs" that Roy was "fleeing" the town with after he supposedly let Lyon out," Roget answered with a snort and took another drink, "Roy left with meself, Kyle, Lyon, Nash and Sialeeds to head over to...what it's called? Vineay de Zexanay? For a day of shopping."
"So Luca has accused you all of being Roy's co-conspirators due to your proximity?" Camus frowned, sipping at the cold amber brew he held. "Blight has never been one for grand schemes and duplicity, he attacked frontal, his only plots were on the battlefield...why start such things now?"
The mage shurged again, "Bloody is I know," he said and took another swig of his beer, "I haven't been making a lot of noise about it, unlike some of my "co-conspiritors""he gave a snort and took another swig. "And he's accused Belcoot of bein' one as well. Other than that, I know nothing else"
"I assume he has little proof to back this up, as you all appear to be walking around free. Belcoot is the man that was injured, was he not?"
Roget nodded, "Aye, he is. I think he's had some visitors, if ye could find out whot they are I bet they could tell ye more."
Camus nodded in return, taking another thoughtful drink. "I may have to seek them out. I do not trust Luca Blight, and if he is making trouble, it cannot be a good thing. I will not allow him to sabotage any more lives." As Camus speaks, his voice remains the same, only his eyes harden, grow colder, and show a peek of the true knight beneath. A blink banishes it as quickly as it surfaced, however, and the Red Knight smiles nonchalantly. "So you are not from this time?"
Roget watch's the knight's eyes become hard, and wonders if that's how knights act all the time, he never really saw any, and the Knights of Kooluk never wanted to have anything to do with him. He's a little caught off guard when the knight's mood changed. "Aye, that's right, over one hundred seventy years ago"
"It must be quite a shock to have traveled so far through time."
"No' really," Roget said, "I didn't know until Kyle said he was around 450 or somethin' and then Geddoe said it was 481!"
"So the world has not changed so much since your time?" Camus watched Roget over the rim of his tankard, all ease and friendliness, but he was genuinely curious about the lad, and about any other insight he might have towards the situation with Luca, but sometimes the best way to get information is when you aren't asking questions about the topic you need.
"Not that much," Roget said as he flagged over a barmaid to fill up his tankard, giving her a bright, charming smile as she did so, and then turned that smile onto Camus, "The beet's better, and there's elevators, and guns, though we heard rumors 'bout 'em being used in Harmonia, and" He felt himself smile at this, a true smile, "Democracy is wide spread."
Camus copied Roget's motion, also giving the barmaid a charming smile and a gentle word of thanks, before turning back to laugh at Roget's words. "I am glad to hear that our beer has improved over time. I would have to drink sub-par brews." He settled down, his own expression the mirror of Roget's; the shared joy of those that fought for freedom. "Yes...although at high cost." He raised his tankard, a silent toast to those that had come before them, giving their lives to the freedom of the people.
"Ye can't have freedom for free," Roget said solemly and took a swig of his beer. "Everything has a price, one of life's few absolute truth's." He took another swig, "It's sad, if I had stayed in my time I probably would have never seen a true democracy. The Island Nations had a Federation, but there were kingdoms in the Federation, 'tis not the same."
"Many of the places here are still ruled much in the same way as a federation, with their individual leaders. It seems to work well, for the most part." Taking another deep drink of his beer, Camus tries to think of anywhere that is wholly ruled by democracy. "Toran has a president still, I believe."
"ah," Roget said, feeling slightly disapointed, "Well, at least it's a start, yes?" he took a deep drink of his beer, "It's better than nothin'."
Camus nodded, smiling, "Many people are free to live under a ruler that they believe can be trusted to make decisions for them that will benefit them and their country. Matilda is not a democracy, per-say, but it has always been open to the voice of the people."
"Well, at least that's gotten better over the years," Roget said happily, "Truely, the best way, in my opinion."
Camus laughed, "You must have been in politics to be so jaded for one so young, Roget."
"I was pretty involed," Roget said and took a drink, "Since I was ...eighteen I think. Mum sent me to some university to study, and I read these books, and talked 'bout them with some guys, and joined a faction that was sayin' what we were sayin'; that those with Imperial Heritage aren't any better than those without, and while they take the top jobs and get all the credit, we, the normal folk, do all the work."
"That has been the way of the world for many hundreds of years," Camus paused to take a drink, thinking of all the nobles he'd met over the years and the pompous jackasses that they were. "The spoils go to the first son...but sometimes it is better to be able to control one's destiny, even if they are not as fortunate as those in power, would you not agree?"
"Aye, I agree, but everyone deserves the choice whether or not they want to be," Roget said and took a swig of beer.
"Of course. Such is the world of freedom and democracy." Camus smiled, leaning back in his chair and letting the warmth of the bar and the beer spread through him, relax some of his worry-tightened muscles, even if his troubles are never very far from mind.
Roget nodded, "Aye, that's my dream," he leans back and looks up at the ceiling, "Migh' be a silly dream, but it's mine" He looks back at Camus, "Ye said spoils always go to the first, I take it ye weren't the frist son?"
Camus blinked, taken slightly off guard by the sudden question. "No, I was not. In my home country, the first son is the only one able to go into the knighthood."
"So ye went to, wha' was it? Matilda?" Roget asked.
"Yes. I left when I was a young man and went to Matilda to try for the knighthood there." Camus smiled slightly, his gaze turning inward for a moment as he remembers, "I met Miklotov that first day, we set the record for the longest duel."
Roget took another swig of his beer and watched Camus, intriged, "Seems like it worked out fer ye." he took sip, "Who's this Miklotov bloke?"
"In Matilda, the knighthood is broken up between three divisions: Red, Blue and White. I was the leader of the Red Knights, Miklotov was my counterpart, leading the Blue. We served under Gorudo, who led the White." Camus drained his tankard, setting it on the table. "We both rose together through the ranks, becoming the youngest captains in Matildian history." He paused, obviously thinking of the past, his finger tracing the wet rim of the empty glass before him. "Miklotov was the man who stood up to Gorudo during the war, who stood against the idiotic and lethal course of action Gorudo had set us on against Highland. When Miklotov defected, his honor in such agony over our forced actions, I went with him, taking most of our battalions with us, to serve under Lord Riou."
"Lord Riou?" Roget asked, wondering who all these people are, "Wait, no, le' me guess. Kid, true rune, everybody loves him?" He smiled, "It's interesting seeing these patterns in history."
Camus laughed, his mirth light and true, banishing his thoughtful pose from moments before. "Yes, I do suppose that describes Lord Riou. Lady Nanami is his sister, although I have not seen him since I returned."
"Oh really? She's a good lass, haven't really much talked to her though," he paused and finished off his tankard and signaled for another one, "This Miklotov bloke," he began, "He special to you?" It was always good to know everything you can about the people around you.
Camus, not having been born yesterday, knew what Roget was getting at and smiled again, amused, "Yes." He turned his charm to the barmaid, also requesting a refill.
Roget filed this away for later use. He smiled softly and offered his cup to be refilled, "Is he here? In Budehuc?"
"No...he is not." Camus took a large drink, hiding the quick flash of sadness that flittered across it. "I have not seen him in over a year."
Roget reached over and patted him on the shoulder, "Must be tough," he said, "I left two pals of mine when I was transported 'ere. I've tried seeing if they ended up in the history books, but it looks like they faded from it, like they wanted too."
Camus smiled slightly, "It is the way life goes." Another drink, "They wanted to be away from History's Eye? It is possible that they may appear here, in time."
Roget gave a smile. "That would be nice." He leaned back again, "And maybe your Miklotov will show up."
"Perhaps...here, I suppose, anything is possible." Camus lifted his mug slightly, acknowledging their lost compatriots. "Until then, we must wish them well, wherever they may be."
"I'll toast to that," Roget said and lifted his tankard into the air.
Camus gently clinked the side of his glass to Roget's, nodding, and took a healthy swig of beer. "What were your companions' names?"
"Ornela and Busk, former members of the Imperial Family of the Kooluk empire," Roget answered and to a swig, "In the end the saw the empire was dying, and let it go a quiet death."
"Did they not want to save their empire?" Camus asked curiously, still not too familar with all the ins and outs of Kooluk history.
"they did, but they realised it was futile, and neither of them were frist born, so their niece, the only daughter of their brother, who was dead by this point and their father as well, Corselia decreed that Kooluk was dead, and they couldn't argue against her."
"I see." He causually sips his beer, watching Roget. "It must have been a difficult time."
"It was, Kooluk just last a war, was facing another one, and things," Roget sighed, "Things kept getting worse, and there was Iskas, who seemed like he would save everything...and all he did," he paused, trying to catch his breath, trying to hide the hurt that the memory of Iskas brought forth, "all he did was put the final nails into the coffin."
Camus nodded, knowing full well how it felt to put your faith in someone, only to find that it was misplaced. "I am sorry to hear this." Leaning forward, it appeared that it was the Red Knight's turn to offer comfort, and a warm hand on Roget's shoulder to convey it. "Perhaps it is indeed better to let things go in that case."
"Yeah, doesn't make it anyless hard 'ough." Roget let out a sigh ans took a long drink of his beer and enjoyed the touch. It was comforting and soothing in away. He set down his now empty tankard and looked in at the bottom, and wondered if he should order a fourth.
"No, it does not. Nothing does." With a small pat, Camus sat back again, contemplating the last few mouthfuls of the ale in his glass, swirling them around to catch the light. "Only the companions and the choices we make are the comfort we can expect from such times." With a decisive gesture, he upended the tankard, draining it, before setting it down with a clink. He could drink well into the night, but politely nodded towards Roget's empty glass in a silent question.
Roget looked up at Camus and looked down at the tankard. He had a slight buzz going, and knew with a few more tankards he would be getting tipisy, but, hey, why not? Camus was better behaved then Kyle, so it was less likely he would get kicked out this time. He flagged down another waitress and had his glass filled. He smiled brightly at Camus, "So," he began, "tell me more about yerself. Where'd ye come from?"
Camus smiles politely at the waitress, thanking her for the service, and turned back to Roget. He found the other man a good conversationalist with an interesting past, so sitting and drinking a few extra brews sounded very appealing...especially since it seemed as though there was nothing to be done about any of the problems surrounding them at this moment. "I am from a small country not too far from here, Camaro."
"Oh? I've never heard of them, not even since I got here," He took a swig, "no one's really told me much, hadda find it out for meself. All I know, is Budehuc is sorta Grasslands, sorta not, and there's a place called Karaya around."
Camus nodded, leaning forward to draw on the glossy wooden surface of the table with his finger; and invisible map of the Grasslands. "Yes, Karaya is out farther east, and Zexen borders it here....the coast is along this side, where these two points meet sits Budehuc. North...here....is Camaro. It is not truly a part of the Grasslands or the Nameless Lands, it is it's own state mostly."
Roget frowned, "Ye ever go back there? I mean, before ye got sucked up in the future?"
"Not for many years." Camus looked down at the table, eyes resting on the dark woodgrain where his depiction of Camaro rested in spilled beer and candlelight. "I visited last winter time, although I was not recognized by many." He looked up, smiling at Roget. "I think it might be best that way."
Roge leaned back and wondered if it was better that he was so far from his time that if he went and visited the Graska, if it still stood, that there wouldn't been anyone he reconized. "Sounds like ye got it tough. I can't imagine...going home and seeing the kids I grew up with being twenty years older."
Camus laughed, and it only held a trace of regret for the time he had lost. "Everything has it's place in time and it is fine that way, it is the way it is meant to be. Fate places us where we need to be; a knight must be ever-ready, no matter the situation he finds himself in." He takes a drink, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat. "Have you thought of your own home, such a place must be different after so many years."
Roget stared a bit at Camus, "that was beautiful," he said and raised his glass to the knight, "I guess there's something to be said about chilvery if ye can pull that outa t'e air." He took a swig. "Aye, I thought about me home, I dunno if it's even still standin' I want to go visit sometime, but..." he sighs, "at the same time I don't."
Camus' mirth slides through the air again, and he dips his head in acknowledgement of Roget's compliment. "You are too kind." He take a quick drink to compliment Roget's, "It must be a heavy weight on you, and no easy decision."
Roget nodded and took a deep drink of his ale. "Aye, it is." He took another swig. "I suppose I have to sometime, bu'..." He shrugged, "Neither here nor there now though. Look t'ward the future as mum, crazy as she was, us'ta say."
"Sound advice." Camus leaned against the table, elbow propped under him while his free hand cradled his tankard. "So now that you are here, what are your future plans?"
"T'was," Roget agreed and took a drink, "I'm going to open a massage parlor, me thinks, as I took classes when I was younger." He chuckled a bit at the memory, "Me mum made me take 'em, so I could give 'er a massage." He shook his head, "Crazy woman, I miss her."
Camus smiled, "There was another man who had a massage and bath parlor here, but I have not seen him since I arrived back. He was from the Island Nations." The second part of Roget's speech reached him, and he shook his head, "Your mother requested you to take massage classes?"
"Ordered me more like," Roget said smiling. "I was thirteen, mum woke me, made get dressed, and told me since I was skipping school I was goin' to a different one and dropped me off in the class, anounced that I was joinin' and left me there." He took a swig, "When I got home fris' thing she does is make me show her what I learne'." He laughed at the memory.
"Your mother sounds to be a formidable woman."
"She was. By the runes she was. I was terrified o' her. Dinna help it was jus' me an' 'er."
"No other family?"
"Nay, jus' me an' 'er. Dunno anything 'bout me dad," He was beginig to slur a bit, a sign he was getting tipsy. He looked at his tankard and was surprised to find it empty. He flagged down the waitress again and had it refilled. "I actually never really thought 'bout him much."
"No?" Obviously surprised by the admission, Camus could not imagine not at least being curious about one's lineage. "Was your home town a large one?"
"Very," Roget smiled widely and spread his arms wide "The Imperial Capital of the Kooluk empire! I was middle class, but lived near the slums, mum had inheritence, all me friends were slum kids. I hated all the other kids at school."
Camus smiled into his mug, easily picturing Roget as the type of kid that did not play well with others. Draining the last drops of his beer, he signaled the barmaid for a refill, once more thanking her with a smile. "Did they not treat you well at school?"
"No, they dinna," Roget said taking a long draft from his beer, "I expect their parents tol' 'em I was a bastard, told 'em no' t'play with me. Since they dinna make nice with me I dinna make nice with them."
"I imagine so." Camus chuckled, mimicing Roget's movement and wondering how much the young man could drink. "Children are often cruel without realizing why they are being so."
Roget was feeling a bit light head, but the buzz he had going was great. He looked over at Camus and smiled, "I bet ye were everybody's bes' friend back when ye were a wee lad."
Camus laughed, his voice carrying through the thinning crowd. "Not exactly. Let us just say that I spoke my mind when I felt it was appropriate...others did not always agree."
Smiling Roget took another drink and smiled, "Hee~ No one likes a smart mouth. Especially when they're right."
"No...no they do not." Grinning, Camus leaned back, slouching slightly and stretching his long legs under the table, careful not to hit his companion. "My brother would tell me that the true mark of a knight is to know when to be right, and when to be silent. I was not very good at the silent aspect."
"Neither was I, no' that I ever went for the knight thing, did join the military for a bit though, soldiers haveta do the same t'ing as knight only it's 'silent' all the time." Roget put his tankard on the table and streched with his arms above his head to their fullest extent, his legs lifted a bit and knocked againt Camus' "Sorry," He said, and returned to his position, picked up his tankard and drank.
"What did you do in the military?" At the tap against his legs he shrugs, unbothered. "Quite all right."
"Mage stuff, I got out when Iskas picked me up and made me his luetinate in the Pratrairchtical Faction."
"'Mage stuff?' You are a mage?" For some reason, Camus realized he had not thought about what discipline his young friend would have followed until now. It bothered him, making him wonder if he was more intoxicated than his slight buzz had led him to believe.
"Yup, though most think I'm an archer. But now, I'm a mage," He lifted his right hand and made the Cyclone rune glow a soft jade. "There's me Cyclone Rune.:
Camus indicated the rune with a tip of his glass, "You fought in the Island Nation's war, I assume?"
"Not really, I wasn't navy, more army, so I was stationed north along Scarlet Moon" Roget answered, "More involed with Kooluk's fall."
"Not an enviable position."
Roget shrugged, "I was actully glad when she feel, t'be honset. She had reached such a state, there was really no place to go but down." He took a long draft of his beer and ordered another. "I helped bring her down in fact, I helped Iskas have his way, and then he betrayed me, lef' me to die." He hoped he didn't sound weepy, he hated sounding weepy. "But, in the end, I am glad. It was a quick coup, hardly anyone died, save for half the Imperial Family"
Raised eyebrows and a quick pause of his glass from table to mouth were Camus' only reactions of his surprise. "Half of the Imperial Family?"
"The Emperor, the crown prince and his wife," Roget answered and took a draft of his new beer. "Iskas killed them all."
After taking a deep draught, Camus sets his glass down, still half-full, on the table and shakes his head in sympathy. "How horrible."
"Yeah, he woul've killed them all, but Busk and Busk joined with some forces from the Island Nations, who had already taken in the Princess Corselia," Roget paused and took a drink, "Sweet girl, she is, mature fer her age. Anyhow, the The forces from Island Nations and Scarlet Moon came t'gether and stopped Iskas." He wondered if was making sense, he was already on his fifth beer, and it was a stong kind too.
Nodding a bit absently, Camus tried to make out who everyone that Roget was speaking of, but found it to be confusing given both of their levels of alcohol and his lack of knowledge about Kooluk's past. "You mentioned the Princess Corselia, what became of her?"
"she left with the Scarlet Moon blokes after some lad who vanished." Roget took another draft, "She got real attached to 'im."
Camus chuckled into his glass, draining it and nicely asking for another, deeming it to be his last of the night. "I have seen many people go to great lengths for those they care about." He pauses, looking off into the distance, eyes resting on a flickering candle. "I hope that she found him."
"I 'ope so," Roget said, "She was a good lass." He finished off his beer and got another one. He had that feeling, neither happy or sad, but both and neither at the same time, he looked over at Camus, felt himself smile, "Ye know, once I open me parlor, ye should come, I could give ye a massage, or I could give ye one anytime, really," he added, "Massages are good."
Camus couldn't help but laugh, nodding in agreement. "Yes, they are indeed. I have not had one in some time."
Richmond, who had long since fallen asleep around the time both the young men had recounted their histories, wakes up with a muffled snort and almost topples out of his chair, barely catching himself on the table. Sensing that his sleuthing was done for the night (and he was sleepy), he snuck off in true gumshoe fashion, only hitting on chair and a slightly intoxicated woman on his way out.
Roget stood, and tripped falling back into his chair, "Al'ight," he told the ceiling, "Met'inks I had a wee to much,"
Camus also stood, still steady, and walked around the table to Roget to offer a hand up. "Perhaps it is time to call it a night, Roget?" He smiled down at the other man, "I would not be able to sleep unless I knew that you were safely to bed."
"Sure~" Roget slurred and took Camus' offered hand, "Ye can take me home, I appe'ciate it."He stood and crashed into Camus before steadying himself.
Camus easily caught him, only stumbling a bit himself, before securely getting ahold of the mage. "Now....where is your room?"
"The inn, third Floor," Roget said, attaching himself to Camus' arm. "th'id door on t'e right."
"Thank you." Camus guided Roget up the stairs carefully, still rather amused at the young man's slurring words, and has to slightly juggle Roget's weight once he reaches the other man's door, holding a bit closer and sliding a hand around him to turn the knob. It is tricky, but he is able to open the door and walk through with Roget, kicking it closed behind him as he guides the mage to the bed.
As soon as he's on the bed he begins to take off his clothing, not caring that Camus is still there, until he's down to his underwear and underneath the thick blankets. Yawning he turns to Camus, "T'ank you."
Camus smiled softly, tucking in Roget as a mother does her child, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his forehead. "Sleep well, mage."
Roget yawns again, and then curls up and falls asleep, snoring softly.
Camus leaves silently, closing the door behind him with a yawn of his own, and makes his way sleepily back to his own room.