Prose log with Troy

[percivalthegale]

Who: Percival and Troy (i_am_a_pisces )
When: last night
Where: aboard Troy's ship
What: gentlemen, conversation, and rum

Percival paused at the end of the boarding ramp to the Kooluk ship, looking up to the deck above and breathing deeply of the cool evening air. He'd not been on a ship this size before, it only added to his curiosity. The standing invitation from Troy to visit and have a drink whenever he could get some time away from duty had already intrigued him enough, and he was finally able to make good on that visit. Out of armor and clad instead in a lightweight shirt and waistcoat, the knight shrugged off his hesitation and climbed up to the deck of the ship.

During the easy late summer evenings while the crew was resting and taking their leave, Troy had gotten into the habit of reading to pass the time and relax while they were docked. His current volume, a dusty book about the founding of Falena, lay open on his lap while he sat in his quarters, reading by the light of a candle and his open window.

Getting directions from one of the crew, Percival made his way to the captain's quarters and rapped on the door. "Sir Troy?" he wondered. "Might I interrupt your evening?"

"Yes?" Troy folded the book closed and placed it on the table next to him, standing to meet his visitor. "Please, come in. You aren't interrupting anything."

Percival opened the door and peeped in, his eyes wide in curiosity. "Oh, good, I...oh! There you are, hello." He smiled warmly. "I decided to take you up on your offer to try some of that Island rum. I've been working far too hard and need a night off, and here's my chance."

Troy waved him in, gesturing to a chair while he went to retrieve the liquor out of it's special chest. "I was just thinking about cracking a bottle open tonight. You have good timing, Percival." He brings back a dark amber bottle, the label scrolled in spidery black ink that has several water marks on it. "This is a good one, a smooth and almost middle of the road rum. Nice for any weather or occasion." The rum itself is only a shade lighter than the bottle, gleaming like a jewel in the chunky glass as Troy pours it delicately.

Closing the door behind him, Percival took the chair and sat admiring the glass while the liquor was poured for him. "Good for sitting on a late-summer evening and enjoying the quiet, then," he smirked, taking the glass and swirling it around testingly, giving it a sniff before taking a taste. It didn't scorch his throat, and for that he was thankful. "Pretty strong, too," he noted with a laugh.

Troy smiled slightly, sighing as he sat down once more. "Yes, it's deceivingly smooth and quite easily goes to one's head." The day had been simple and easy, and therefore the captain had been able to read relatively uninterrupted for a good hour or so, putting him in a relaxed and easy going mood. "How do you like it?"

Percival mulled over a second mouthful. "I could get very used to it. Though you're right - too much at once will definitely go to my head." He sat back and hooked an elbow over the back of the chair, his gaze drifting slightly to the window that looked out on the lake. "Ah. With a view like this, and a good drink so close at hand, no wonder you prefer to remain on your ship rather than go to the tavern in the castle."

Turning his head, Troy admired the view out the breezy window. If one was quiet, they could hear all the sounds of the ship; men walking the decks, yelling to each other, the creak of boards and lake-side birds, and even sometimes the drifting voices of people on shore in the castle, calling. It was peaceful, filling the background, complimenting it, and had become something Troy found he had a hard time living without...the constant sounds of the water and wood. He took a sip of rum, pushing up the sleeves of his simple grey tunic and leaning on the padded wooden arm of his chair. "It's....peaceful, in this time."

"It is," Percival agreed with a soft smile. "At least, right now." He swirled the amber liquor in his glass around, letting it catch the light of the candle on the sill. "I take it, it wasn't quite so where you came from? Or, I suppose I should say, when."

Troy shook his head, "No, but I doubt that any of us came from times, or places, of peace." He snorts. "Unless you count the afterlife, as I suppose a few of us hail from." He shakes his head again, running a hand through his hair. "My apologies, I appear to be thinking too much tonight. Have you heard anything further about the uninvited guests at the castle?"

"Ah...not particularly," Percival replied, heaving a sigh and then taking another drink of the pleasantly smooth, but strong, rum. "I've been practically parading myself in front of them, announcing the fact that one of the Six Mighty Knights is right here in case they should need him, and yet they continue to ignore me. It makes me rather suspicious. But, my hands are tied without any orders from my superiors. I can't really do much else."

"And your Lady Chris? Has she made any moves?"

Again, a shake of his head, and a rather morose look in his dark eyes as Percival focused on his glass. "Nothing so far."

"Hmm..." Troy swirled his rum absently, eyes watching the colorful liquor shine as his mind went elsewhere. "It does seem more suspicious that they would not contact you or your commander if they were here for information, at the very least."

"That is exactly what I have been concerned about, since this whole fiasco began." Percival closed his eyes and sighed heavily, tilting his head back. "It seems as though they never need us until it's too late to refuse the order, and usually for the sole purpose of doing the dangerous work. Ahh..." He sat up and waved a hand. "Now it's my turn to apologize for thinking too much. I shouldn't bring the mood down, not on such a nice evening."

Shaking his head, Troy dismissed Percival's apology. "I asked, please don't apologize for answering. It appears as though councils and politicians are the same in any time."

"That is quite true." Percival leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and sipping more carefully at the rum in his glass. He was getting low, but he could tell it was strong stuff and he'd have to be careful or he'd be repeating past mistakes all over again. "If I do hear anything I'll be sure to keep you updated. They've noticed the ships, but Goddess only knows what their interest is in them. I wouldn't want to see you placed in a bad position."

"They could make life difficult, but they do not seem to be the type that would make an outright challenge?" Picking up the bottle Troy spilled a bit more rum into his glass, pointedly eyeing Percival's dwindling supply without pressure.

"They're more inclined to pluck all the strings and see which ones yield the music, so to speak," Percival mused, staring into his glass for a moment before making his decision and offering it to be refilled. "I've been on the direct receiving end of their shenanigans before, I wouldn't put anything past them. They're merchants, not civil servants. Their idea of 'what's good for Zexen' is different from a Knight's."

"Ah, I see." The Kooluk captain obligingly tipped the bottle, carefully pouring out the precious spirits. "Merchants? I suppose that makes sense, seeing how prosperous Vinay del Zexay is." He sits back in his chair, stretching his long legs out as he relaxes. Percival is a good conversation partner, and since he is trying to relax and enjoy said conversation, he decides to be a trifle nosey. "Shenanigans?"

Percival rolled his eyes magnificently. "They tried to take control of Budehuc once before, you know. At the start of the Fire Bringer War, no less, while secretly taking bribes from Holy Harmonia to incite the whole mess in the first place."

"I had heard something along those lines, the recent history books are difficult to find and most do not cover the conflict." In spite of his decision to try not to speak of war, Troy couldn't help but open the dialog to the recent Fire Bringer War. It wasn't often he was able to speak to someone to intimately involved. "I was under the impression that Harmonia was somewhat anathema around here."

Another sip of rum was enough to loosen Percival's tongue completely. "After the war, certainly," he said emphatically. "Seeing what their armies can do was enough to convince Zexen that they weren't safe from Harmonia's reach after all. Prior to that, though, many thought we were simply too far away, or had nothing of interest to them. Zexen pride, however, stops at the Zexen border - Harmonia considers us nothing more than another Grassland tribe that got too uppity."

Having been on the conquering side of history, Troy easily remembers many council meetings filled with the echoing statements of old nobles denouncing the Island rebels, the heathens living with their neighboring toy knights in Razril, pretending to rule their waters. Idly, he wonders what their old commander, Glen, would have thought of the Zexen plight. "Distance does sometimes equal safety, but I imagine having a nation with such a bountiful port would be quite tempting...not to mention your martial strength, of course." He raises his glass slightly, a nod to a fellow man of war and battles.

Percival smiled back and nodded his acceptance of the compliment. "Even so, I'll be the first to admit that the Harmonian main army is formidable. From what I can tell, Holy Harmonia does not conquer to gain anything, they simply can't abide by people living under their own rule." He shrugged, then. "Assuming said people aren't hiding any True Runes."

"History points to their love of True Runes. Do you know what reason they would have to collect them? Other than for further conquest and power consolidation, that is." Troy sipped his rum, the strategist in him thoroughly enjoying the chance to find out all of these interesting tidbits of facts and rumor.

Percival tapped his fingers against the glass resting next to his arm. "Your guess is as good as mine, really. I've heard nothing different from what you say - only that it's 'national policy' and that's just what they do. There are rumors about their leadership, something like an intent to unite the world under one man with all the Runes controlled and tamed, but..." A smirk twitched his lips. "You might try questioning Bishop Sasarai, but I don't know if it'll get you anywhere. He's a kind man but he is, in the end, a Harmonian Bishop with a True Rune."

"Unite the world under one man with all the power? Seems as though that is the general idea behind most conquest. We all think we know better." His words are said in the good, gentle humor of one who was once part of such a movement. "Bishop Sasarai? His name sounds familiar...but I don't think he is here anymore, or at least, I have not run across him since I returned. I am surprised that Harmonia let him  out of their borders with one of their precious Runes." A slight shrug accompanies his words, the rum relaxing his speech. "I have become more familiar with them since arriving here years ago, it is hard not to with the concentration of them here, but the True Runes are still somewhat of a mystery to me. They were spoken in legend during my time, the only one we had encountered was the Rune of Punishment."

"Oh, Bishop Sasarai is still here," Percival blithely assured, relaxing considerably thanks to the rum. "We went riding not too long ago. I don't know quite what's going on with his business, though, I find it better if I don't pry." He gestured pointedly with his half-filled glass. "The Rune of Punishment...isn't that one here? Now, I mean, thanks to Budehuc's...whatever it is that it's doing. The only ones I've brushed up against are the Five Elements." His smile became even more sly. "My captain bears one, I get to be close to it quite often."

"Perhaps I should make an effort to find him, I would be interested in learning more about Harmonia." Troy smiles, echoing Percival. "I imagine that is quite helpful in battle. Not too many will go against a True Rune." He considers his glass carefully before taking another taste, letting the sweet liquid coat his throat before he rests it against the arm of the chair with a muffled clink. "Yes, the Rune of Punishment is here, dormant in Lazlo. If all of the True Runes behaved as that one does, I cannot see why anyone would willingly bear it. Thankfully, I see the others are more....sane...for the most part." He frowns. "I think."

"From what I can tell, these runes all act differently," Percival said thoughtfully, lifting his glass to drink but getting distracted talking. "Lady Chris is quite sane and stable, I can assure you. I'm not as close to Sir Hugo and Captain Geddoe as I am to her, but they don't strike me as being terribly affected either. But then..." He breathed another sigh. "...it isn't always about choosing to bear them. I did not see with my own eyes the moment Lady Chris took up the True Water Rune, but from what she says...it chose her, not the other way around."

Troy nodded, watching Percival talk and found himself mildly amused at the knight's pose. "Like children of the same family....which I suppose is a good analogy for their behavior and origins, if you believe the legends." He shrugged, "Although they all come with different stories, of course. Geddoe and Lady Chris seem to deal with their affliction, but I have not had much contact with Hugo." Troy paused, looking back out the window while his mind drifted back, thinking of Cray and the particular legend of Punishment. "Some of the Runes seem to pick with malicious intent. Children, women....whoever is nearest, like a parasite. I hope that was not the case with your captain."

Percival smiled cutely. "That's a very good analogy, Troy. I like that. Perhaps I'll steal it and quote it if the chance arises." He finally took a drink and relaxed back in the chair. "Well...it was a while before I could get the full story out of her, as she is notoriously private about some things. But I'm fairly certain the fact that it was her father who bore the Rune before her that might have swayed it to settle on her, among all the people who were close by when he died." He raised an eyebrow as if to suggest that it made the most sense to him.

"I see. Death does seem to be the only way to dislodge them....or amputation, if it is attached to a hand." Troy said, again taking from the second-hand tale of Cray's internal battle with Punishment.

Percival's dark eyes widened and he shook his head quickly. "No, there are ways of removing them...at least, I've seen it done. But they're horrible ways. Very dark sorcery, the kind I don't think anyone would want to wish on their worst enemy." He snorted into his glass. "Though that's exactly who visited it on..." He trailed off and took a healthy gulp of the rum remaining in his glass.

"Oh? I wasn't aware there were other methods...although they don't sound any more palatable than amputation." The naval captain leaned over towards the small table, refilling his glass with the ease of practice and offered his services to Percival. "You sound as though you have had an encounter with this type of terrible magic. If you don't mind my inquiring....?"

Percival raised his hand to refuse a third glass, knowing perfectly well that he would be quite tipsy at the end of it, but a question like that made him withdraw the gesture and slide the glass forward instead. He couldn't talk about that without more rum. "I accompanied Lady Chris on an errand during the war," he said in a much less flippant tone. "Protecting the people of Alma Kinan, whom she had formed a bond with. But it was a trap, a lure to get her away from those who could protect her, so that our enemies could ambush her and take the Rune."

Troy studied Percival's face for a moment, knowing the look of a man who was about to speak of something intimately painful, and poured a smaller serving of rum, one that would honor Percival's earlier wish of a careful drink. He left the bottle within easy, pointed reach of the other man, though. "Alma Kinan is Yun's home village, isn't it?" He sipped his own refreshed glass, knowing that he would have to slow down after this as well. The Islanders were devilish with their rum... "I have heard it is well hidden."

"Ah...yes." Percival took a moment to gather his thoughts, not drinking yet even though the amber liquor called to him quite strongly. "I have met Miss Yun recently, she's very sweet. But...at that time, the barrier had come down, so Alma Kinan was as vulnerable as the other clan villages. Their archers are talented, but they're no match for sorcery. Lady Chris suspected it was a trap of some kind, but she couldn't turn her back on them...so we went." His lips twitched at the memory. "We fought...and in the end, they overwhelmed us and took her Rune. It...it looked very painful."

Troy frowned, his sympathies silently sent to the absent knight. "Were you able to retrieve it?"

Percival nodded. "In the end, yes. All the runes were returned to their proper bearers, and the world was not destroyed...for which I think all of us are glad." He finally sipped at the rum, the taste reminding him not to drink it too fast despite his habits. "I know it isn't an easy thing, having to carry a True Rune, but sometimes, it is the best alternative."

"Yes, I am rather thankful the world is still intact and that I am alive in it." Troy chuckled into his glass, tipping it carefully back as he took a conservative taste. "Perhaps....Either way, as you said, it cannot be an easy assignment."

"No, I would imagine not. I can't even begin to know what Lady Chris goes through, but at least she has her companions, her friends. We're still here for her, that hasn't changed." Percival breathed the scent of the rum and smiled again. "This is fine stuff indeed, Troy. I think I'll be a little wobbly walking back to my room tonight."

"Then she is lucky indeed." Troy said with a faint smile. "It is deceptively smooth. I have other vintages that you might appreciate if this is to your taste." He holds up a hand before Percival can protest, "On another night, perhaps. I would not want you to over indulge on my direction. There are guest rooms here if you would like, my ship is big enough to house more than the crew comfortably." He doesn't doubt Percival's drinking and walking abilities, but he does want to be polite and offer.

Percival laughed softly. "On another  night, indeed. Perhaps when the conversation is a little lighter - not that I haven't enjoyed talking to you." He sipped delicately at the mouthful of rum left in his glass. "You're very easy to talk to. I haven't been able to hold an intelligent conversation with anyone here in...some time." He set the glass down and eased back in the chair, giving himself time to sit and let the evening breeze from the window cool his face. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to impose. As long as someone can see me safely to the pier, I'm sure I'll be fine." He giggled a little. "I just don't need to be taking a dunk right about now. I only very recently learned to swim."

Troy chuckled as well, resting his glass carefully on the arm of the chair, his long fingers curved around it to keep it from escaping off the side. "Ah, yes, I apologize for that. I did not mean to drag you into reliving old wounds. It isn't often I am able to speak with someone who lived the war as closely as you did and I'm afraid I lost track of the conversation somewhat." He smiles, a small upcurve of lips. "Perhaps it is that ease of speech you mentioned. You are indeed a good conversationalist." Troy blinks, his only outward sign of shock, and sits forward. "You only recently learned to swim?" For him, the thought of being unable to swim is unheard of.

Percival found himself smiling very easily, looking across at the taller man and listening with pleasure to his voice. At his blink of shock, he grinned and chuckled self-depreciatively. "I know, I know - and me, a water-element on top of it! I simply never had the opportunity," he explained, gesturing with a hand. "When I was growing up, the nearest body of water was only a river and it was too swift to swim in. By the time I even saw the ocean for the first time, in Vinay, I was a knight-trainee and we had far too much to do to allow for swimming lessons. It never came up, until now, with this nice lake to swim in and plenty of time to learn."

Troy leaned back, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, disbelief coloring his voice and movements. "I find it hard to think of anyone being unable to swim. Mothers teach their sons and daughters to know the water before they can walk....or so the older kin tell us." He smiles reminiscently, thinking back on his own boyhood and love for the sea. "Your training for knighthood must have been intensive."

"Ah, that's probably true in your part of the world," Percival teased with a wag of his finger. "We're rather land-locked here, you know." He laced his fingers together as he reminisced. "You could say that, but I'm sure your own naval training was no less so. I made knighthood at eighteen and was elevated by twenty-two, so it paid off in record time."

"It is. Those that can't swim must be either very lucky or never sail...and it is almost suicide to never learn to sail. We were not so lucky as to have such willing transports as wagons and horses." Troy smiled as he said it, knowing full well how temperamental horses and their ilk can be. "Eighteen? That is quite young, isn't it?"

"It's average, in Zexen," Percival shrugged. "The only exceptional part of my story is that I never had to slave as an infantryman, I jumped straight to full knight. Probably due to my horsemanship," he conceded with a tilt of his head.

"Never swam but born on the back of a horse, so to speak?"

"Sort of," Percival laughed. "Us farmboys are more suited to riding than sailing any day."

Troy chuckled, reverently drinking the last of the rum from his glass and licking his lips before setting the glass down. "I suppose there would not be much use for a ship of any great size on a farm."

"Nor can you ride a horse on the ocean," Percival said dryly. "Except maybe for those dragon-horses from Falena, that just arrived here around the time you returned." He cocked his head again, rubbing his chin slightly. "Do you ride at all, Troy?"

"They are similar to the leviathans that frequent the ocean waters...but far friendlier than those slithery beasts. The blue rider and his steed were friendly when I spoke to them the other day." Troy said, pausing only to shake his head. "Only when I am separated from the sea. I learned when I was younger, as required by my family, and can ride passably...but ships are much easier to handle."

"I do find them fascinating," Percival admitted. "Ah, so you're as at home in the saddle as I would be on the deck of a ship. Pity, I would have suggested we ride, the next chance I have to ride for pleasure."

Troy let silence stretch between them for a moment or two as he considered the idea of riding for pleasure...something he hadn't done often or in recent memory at all. "Hmm....since you have deigned to come onto my ship, I could take up the saddle again for a few hours."

Percival did his best not to sit up eagerly, surprised as he was to have the offer not refused. "Really? Well, then. I'll have to make some time in my busy schedule. Midnight needs a good long ride anyway, or he'll get fat off the sweet grass just hanging around while I work inside castle grounds." He grinned happily. "It sounds like a fair trade. Whenever I'm able, and whenever you're willing."

Troy, looking at Percival's eager grin, wondered what he had gotten himself into. He nodded, smiling at the other's enthusiasm. "Very well. Let me know when you are free and I will arrange to be available as well."

"Hopefully it won't be too long," the knight laughed. "I could definitely use more diversions. This night, for example, was long overdue." His chuckles subsided, but he kept his smile. "I really needed a night off, to sit and talk and drink. Thank you...Troy. I'm in your debt. Especially for the rum." He waved a finger toward his empty glass on the table. "Any headache I have in the morning will be well worth it."

"I hope that your headache will be minimal...rum can sometimes be the bringer of an unhappy morning, sadly." Shaking his head, Troy smiles again, something he has done quite a bit of tonight. "I think it is I who owes you the thanks....perhaps you were right when you said that I needed a night off, so to speak. It has a relaxing, and informative, night. There are no debts here."

The easygoing smiles kept coming. "I'm glad I could be of some help, then. We didn't speak much when I first arrived at Budehuc, on account of your injuries, but I'm glad to have finally made a friend." He glanced at the window, noticing at last how dark it had gotten outside. "Oh dear, maybe now's the time I ought to consider whether or not I can make it down that ramp in the dark."

"Indeed. Perhaps Blight has had some positive effects on the castle." Troy stands, steady despite the rum, and offers a hand to Percival. "I'll escort you to the ramp and make sure a man will go with you. I do not doubt your ability to walk, please don't mistake me, but I wouldn't want you to fall into the lake at this hour."

"I wouldn't want to fall into the lake at this hour, either," Percival laughed, accepting the helping hand to get to his feet. He felt only slightly light-headed, and could walk a straight line, but the fuzz in the back of his mind was enough to caution him to accept the escort. "That's quite gentlemanly of you, Troy," he said, half-teasing.

Opening the door to his cabin, Troy snorted, gesturing for Percival to precede him out. "My mother and governess were strict on etiquette."

Percival walked ahead of him, breathing deeply of the night air, cool and clean out there on the lake. It cleared his head just a little. "Ah, one of those, I see. My mother may not be a noblewoman, but she did make sure that I grew up knowing how to treat other people well. Manners are manners, she always said."

"That is very true." As they reached the ramp connecting the ship to the dock, Troy called one of the evening watch men over, giving him instructions to see Percival safely back. "Please let me know when you are free to go riding, or to try another vintage." Troy smiled slightly. "Walk safely."

"I shall. Definitely. I'll send word, or maybe just drop in on you again." Percival stepped onto the top of the ramp and wobbled slightly. "Oh...goodness, was it always that far down to the ground?"

"Usually." Troy said, amusement threading his voice.

Percival gave him a droll look. "Funny. Well, then. Goodnight," he said brightly, doing his best not to wobble all the way down to the dock and look like a complete amateur. He would probably be feeling every drop of rum in the morning, but he didn't much care.

Troy watched until Percival had successfully navigated the ramp and made it to dry land before turning back to his own cabin, tired but pleased with the conversation....even if he wasn't all together sure he was looking forward to voluntary horseback riding.