Dec 02 04:35:54 108 PA - Why Bother to Tell Me When You Can't
From Chronicles
Dec 02 04:35:54 108 PA.
PAVEL'S MEADOW AND FORGE
It's early, early morning and most people are home, snuggling beneath covers. But not out here. Not northeast of Kingsdale in a large open meadow covered in snow. A meadow where a huge black mare ranges around like an equine guard dog and local companion. Local companion to Pavel, who himself is up at this hour. The high-pitched banging of his large hammer, the light *tink* sounds of his more delicate tools and the amazing WHOOOOSHHHHH of hot metal being quenched can be heard for miles. Pavel's flames always glow brightly, even enough to pierce the oppressive fog.
After that whoosh! There's a voice, floating through the air. "It is gratifying to know that I am not the only person who does not sleep!" There's a shape in the fog, something misshapen and huge. Four legs, two arms, and a wide head. It coalesces into Sebastien on his mare Sara, the former wearing a long coat that splits over the latter's plate armor-wearing flanks. The going is slow, but steady, as Sara presses through a snow drift with sure feet and iron ankles.
Pavel looks up at the call, and though he doesn't have the eyes of an elf or a hawk, they're decent for human vision enough to pierce the annoying fog. "Allo! Ees good Sebahstien cohm heer! Ees ohnly fohr gyet svohrd, ohr Sebahstien have else mohr fohr do?" His hammer never stops clanging against metal, the metal never stops turning as he talks. It's touch really, more than anything. Zoyenka starts to trot over toward the horse and rider, whinnying a greeting in untranslatable horse language.
Sebastien runs a hand up and down Sara's neck, earning a snort, and he frowns. "One of these days," he says, peering down at her, "I'll buy that vocal processor." As he draws nearer, he reaches towards Zoyenka's snout and draws Sara to a halt. Waiting for her to have a good sniff before he tries for a pet. From a distance, then, he calls towards Pavel, "A little more, I'm afraid. I'm in uncertain waters, and my compass is ... not as reliable as it used to be."
That's enough to get Pavel's attention. He waves and smiles, finishing up with two huge *WHANGS* of a golden hammer against steel, leaving the whatever-it's-going-to-be in a bed of hot coals. His big paws are wiped on his apron and absently drawn beneath his right eye, leaving a bit of a smudge. "Vhat ees prohblem fohr yoo?" He reaches up into the rafters and pulls down the chain weapon owed to the knight. Not only fixed, but all cleaned, shiny and like new.
Sebastien runs one hand up and down Zoyenka's neck, smoothing out her fur before pulling off his opposite glove and letting her lick the salt off his hand. His smile is genuine, his eyes on the mare, as he speaks, "There are some things I, well, I cannot say. But I can speak in generalities. I know of a dangerous situation. I know a group of people who are being led into it. What they don't know is that it is ..." He swallows hard, falling silent then. His jaw twitches, before he makes a quiet, frustrated sound, and he draws back from Zoyenka a touch. "Sorry," he apologizes to her, breathing a few times to calm himself before letting her snuffle at his hand again. "It is more dangerous than they think," he finally manages, and nods at that. "I tried to convince them that it was folly, and then, well, I made myself to be a coward, because I know what they do not. Perhaps nobody is getting out alive."
Pavel's own jaw grinds at that worry. He steps out into the snow carrying the chain weapon cradled in his arms. "Oh? Vhat ees... sooeecaheed, yoo seh? Sehbastien noh bee vohrreed szeenk cahll 'covahrd.' Eff noht covahrd, noht covahrd. Smahrt." He pokes his head with a big index finger. "Boot pleahse, seh fohr me, vhat ess beeg prohblehm?"
"The problem," Sebastien grins at that, and laughs. "I cannot tell you what the problem is. I wish I could. But I can say why I cannot tell you of my problem." He leans forward a touch, eyes flicking over Zoyenka's muzzle to Pavel there in the snow, and his fingers run up along where her bridle would be, scritching the itchiest parts. "There is a vampire. I am somewhat known for my fights with the undead, though really my specialty lies elsewhere. So because I was the greatest threat to her, she caught me. I now do what she commands. And she commanded I not ... divulge the nature of my current dilemma."
Pavel's eyes are immobile, his complete attention on his guest, not even allowing the chain sword to waver in his arms as he listens. "Oh. Szaht vyery sztrehge prohblehm. Vahmpeer yoo seh... yoo ahr grehtest szret to szees vahmpeer." His mouth swishes from side to side for a moment and he holds up a finger before walking back beneath cover, re-shelving the weapon, and opening a drawer. A drawer containing one shiny, obviously never-used language translator. He grabs it and walks back out. After fiddling with some uncomfortable technology for a moment, and then with an annoying delay, << I'm sorry. I hate technology, particularly when it comes to me trying to speak properly. But this obviously needs specifics. You are under the.. spell? Of a vampiress to whom you are the greatest threat - but you're still alive? >>
Sebastien nods in a choppy, curt sort of motion. He simply accepts the translator, only glancing up from Zoyenka to peer at it with a hint of a smile. "I would have killed her. She could have killed me, but in doing so would have earned her too many enemies. She is crafty. I give her legitimacy, so that now she is gaining alliances. I tell you not because I want to break this ... arrangement we have. To do so would require my death. But this ... this expedition, perhaps, will do that for her in a way that will not raise suspicions."
The big blacksmith walks over close enough to speak seriously. << I guess you can't tell me who she is? I only know one vampire. It's not Bella, is it? >> He hesitates. << The agreement, it is your life or your death? That's difficult. What is this 'expedition'? >> Pavel uses air quotes on the last. After another moment of quiet, he adds, << Sometimes for people with hearts like you and I, it might require such a sacrifice, if no other can be found? Please, tell me what you can. What kind of alliances is she gaining? Perhaps I can guess at who she is? >>
"It is," Sebastien replies, nodding, his blue eyes fixing on the larger man. "I've no way out. If it's any consolation, I think she's stuck with me too." He laughs at that, a touch nervously, and then raises his eyebrows, "But she can simply ask me to kill myself if she wishes. I couldn't say no. I..." He looks down, swallowing. "I've, I'm not proud of myself." He sniffs, closing his eyes as he looks away, turning Sara a touch as a hand lifts to his face. His voice is thicker as he speaks, "I've made myself more 'useful' to her. I volunteered for this." He turns back quickly after that, eyes red, assuring, "I have not killed! But I am not as strong as, not as strong as I'd hoped to be. And that's why I have come to you!" He swings a leg over Sara, dropping into the snow with a little 'thump!' before crunching those couple of steps towards Pavel. "I can march into certain death. I can try to save as many as I can, and keep my name and maybe save a few, or I can try to sabotage this wild plan and be a villain. Force a stalemate. Save a few good people, but not end ... end why they're doing what they do in the first place."
Pavel frowns a little. Even through the translator there are clearly words lost. << I don't know what you're speaking of. This vampire that you're... bound to? You cannot fight her? You can't ask others to fight her for you? >> There's a hesitation... and he walks over to hug the other fellow. Plenty of room, as long as he doesn't pull away from a blacksmith's arms. << Can you tell me... maybe in metaphor... what this plan is? So that I might understand it, without your having to break this... spell, and bring about your death? I have a hammer, and I will fight with you, if you need it. >>
"I can't," Sebastien says softly, looking down. "I have to protect her. If I raise arms against her, my sword will be the her first line of defense. I will kill anyone who comes against her." Sebastien swallows at that, and drops his head against Pavel's chest. His hat doesn't crush, instead flattening only faintly as it tugs it away to come off his head. Must be armored. "I can't tell you any more," he says bitterly, leaning back as he raises two fingers to tap against the side of his head, hard enough that there's an audible rapping sound. "The limitation is in here! Dans ma tete! It's not something I can just 'game' or cheat at. Just, help me work this out." He plants a hand on Pavel's chest and presses, looking for just a touch more room, though his hand stays there over the big guy's heart as he looks up. His red eyes are the only color on his pale, scarred face save for that fuzz of a beard. "A dozen innocents die every night. I don't know if I could stop that, ever. But I could try. I just, I need help, and I can't get it, because my friends are doing it wrong and I can't say why. So if I ride with them, I can save a few. Maybe. And we will be villains in every sense. Kill the righteous. I know it. Or I can sabotage their misguided plans and allow for the continued slow trickle of deaths, and be cast out by my friends. And the only hope I have of any solution working is in relying in the virtue of Bella." The look on his face says how much he believes that.
The blacksmith's eyes narrow, as he tries to follow the somewhat winding explanation. << Bella? It is Bella? >> He seems confused. Pavel takes a step back and asks, << So. Twelve innocent people will die every night. That's a given. If nothing changes, that's what will keep happening. You know *how* to stop it, but you can't by yourself, and while your friends are trying to stop it, they're doing it in a way that will end up not just getting themselves killed, but the innocents as well? Is that a correct version of events right now? Without adding anything further, is that right? Because I need to make sure that I understand what I can understand of the problem before I can help. >>
"Yes," Sebastien speaks, and he raises a hand to silence any probing, "Twelve is just ... I know they are, but not the exact number. I don't know how much time I have, and I have something for you. It comes with a story, and that story is important." Sebastien swallows, and reaches into his long coat to draw out a knife. It's oddly fashioned, looking as much like a talon as the kukri it's been fashioned into. Half knife, half machete. "Years ago, when I was quite young but after I came to this town, robots invaded. And there were large ones and small ones, but what mattered was that they were killing our people. And many of them looked just like us." He looks at Pavel, his brow furrowing. "The people of Kingsdale rose up. Amongst them was a man called Kaomas. He was not well-liked. In fact, I think he may have been a villain. But when the time came, he was not tempted to ... do anything untoward." Sebastien struggles there. "He was a good man in the end because he fought with us. He died for us. He was not a villain after all. Not everyone can be so good." Sebastien taps the blade against his hand, and raises his chin. "I think you will like this. It is the claw that ran through Kaomas. It cannot be stained by any liquid. It is no metal I know of from this earth. It will never need sharpening, and even a man such as myself can use it as a fearsome weapon against a potent enemy. For your work on my sword, it is yours. Consider its story." He swallows at that, and presses the large knife towards Pavel.
Pavel stands and listens without interruption to the whole tale, even accepting the blade and nodding approvingly. However, he does say, << I'm not a Kaomas, or any hero. What I did.. it is.. easy for me, it was not a task. I won't dishonor you by accepting such a piece; I'm very appreciative. But I do hope you know... it's unnecessary. >> He smiles then, and puts an arm around Sebastien, pulling him away from the two horses - robotic and biologic alike - toward the warmth in the forge. << Come. Let's figure out how to be heroes. Tell me how your friends are making a mistake. Or what kinds of mistakes they might be making. >>
Sebastien grits his teeth and his knuckles whiten around the hilt of the knife. Anger flashes in his eyes and for a moment it looks like he wants to plunge it into Pavel's chest. "Listen. Listen to the story. Think about it. It's all I can," and then his jaw clamps up, and Sebastien makes a frustrated sound. "Take the knife. Think about it. Let it remind you. In a few days ... you'll have earned it, or I won't need it any more."
Pavel steps back, a sad smile on his face. << I think that I do understand. You'd have me... stop you from doing anything untoward, and you'd have me do it with this knife. I may be big and thick, but I like to think that I'm not dense, too. There's still time to figure out how to be a hero. You're a knight! This is no time to give up. >> He gives the man a rather hard slap on the shoulder. It's late night, and the fog is horrible, but here in Pavel's snowy meadow, the robotic horse Sara and biologic horse Zoyenka are somehow making good friends. The forge's flames are high and warm, illuminating the entire area even through the almost unnatural fog.
Almost unnatural fog. Cause most of it's natural. But some ain't. Like the li'l bit that starts stickin tagether. Behind Seb. Pretty quick there's a shape in there. Then colors. Black 'n white. 'N fingers too. That poke at Seb justa li'l after the big slap. "Heya boys. Whatcha doin? Gettin in trouble?" Since they're out here inna dark 'n fog 'n stuff.
Sebastien says quietly, "You are dense." Though what that means Pavel might never know, because Sebastien turns towards Bella with that knife, grinning as he points it towards her. "Hello little Bella." He smiles, wiggling the tip. "I have one of my own now!"
Pavel's eyes narrow, and he is uncharacteristically blunt. Speaking - uncharacteristically - through his never-used translator, he tells Bella, << I'm sorry, but I need to speak with Sebastien, it's important and rather private. I hadn't really expected it to be so until now, when privacy became a surprise issue. If you would please come back in an hour or so? I do have important business, terribly sorry to be so rude. >> He does really look sorry to be so rude.
Bella smirks at Seb. Eyes the knife. "Maybe better point that somewheres else. 'Fore ya hurt yerself. But itsa pretty knife ain' it?" Then she peeks 'round Seb at Pavel. Grinnin now. With brows popped up too. "Private? Important? Sounds neat." Eyes at Seb again. "Whatcha talkin 'bout?"
The knife's point drops, and Sebastien lifts it to balance between his hands. He shrugs, inclining his chin, and he says in reply, "I was exchanging this knife for the work Pavel did on my sword. But to give it to him without telling the story of the knife would be a disservice." He smiles at her, a faint twinkle in his eye as he adds, "Since you've asked, I'll tell you the story. This knife was created from the carcass of a giant robot, one that attacked the Spring Faire." Sebastien pauses a moment then, ready to retell the tale.
Pavel encourages simply, "Pajalsta," motioning to continue with his hand.
"Oh. Sounds like fun." Not really. But Bella waves her hand too. Kind like Pavel did. "So. Ya beat up a big robot?"
Sebastien nods. "We destroyed them. There were three -- fifteen feet tall, with hands like collections of swords. We had wondered from where they came. You see, somehow they knew ahead of time when our Faire would be. There was talk that we had been betrayed. One of our suspects, a disliked and disreputable man by the name of Kaomas, was there with us." Sebastien raises a finger, and notes, "But Kaomas, he gave his life to save a crowd of children. He was run through when he tried to take on one of the monsters alone. This knife was forged from one of the blades that went through him."
Pavel remains quiet, listening and not wanting to say anything for fear of interrupting if the story continues.
Bella tips her head. But she's listenin. "Huh. Guess't weren't him. If't weren' just unlucky 'r whatever. 'R maybe it was 'n he was just really dumb. So ya made a knife outta it?"
Sebastien replies with a nod. "Not me, exactly. NTI did. I know nothing of blademaking." He turns the blade around, and waggles the tip at Pavel. "But he does. I thought perhaps he might find some use for the knife. A trade for services rendered."
<< Please, tell me more about Kaomas. Why he was a villain, and why he was not. Or was thought that he was a villain, and was not. >> Pavel just speaks quietly, but it only comes through in English because the translator happened to be left on.
"Yeah." Bella's agreein. "Ev'rybody just thinkin he was all bad? 'R what?" She's kinda curious now. But smirks too. "'R justa good story ta make't be worth lots more?"
"It's not important," Sebastien dismisses with a wave of his non-knife-wielding hand. "He was more interested in money than in human life, as I recall. It was a long time ago, and as I said, he was redeemed."
Pavel grumbles, looking at the blade that was handed and taken back, obviously trying to search for some kind of meaning there. His eyes glance between the knight and Bella, his lips pursing. Eventually, he just deflates, clearly wanting to bring up some issue, but saying nothing. Eyes linger on Sebastien's face, but his larynx is motionless.
Bella shrugs. "Ok." he says it ain't important. Guess it ain't. She looks back at Pavel. Brows pop up 'gain. "What'sa matter?" He's lookin 'round 'n lookin like he wants ta talk.
Sebastien turns from Bella to point the blade back at the forge. "Monsieur, you may turn down my knife if you wish, but I will need my sword." He offers a small smile at that, and nods encouragingly.
The big blacksmith smirks now. He offered the sword once, and accepted the knife once. But Pavel is nothing if not one to roll with life, and happily retrieves the chain sword, showing off its beautiful shininess to Bella as he goes. "Seelvehr. Mahny hard, mahny good." His translator was yanked away a few minutes ago. For now, he otherwise only says to Bella, "A friend is trying to tell me something, but doesn't have the words to do so, and I'm not smart enough to figure out what they are."
"Oh." Bella shrugs s'more. Smirks too. "Don'tcha worry none. Figger stuff out sometime right?
"Am I?" Sebastien wonders, winking at Bella as he takes the sword from Pavel. He gives it a little shake and keys the trigger, watching the blades whirl without apparently binding. Sebastien lets it run a moment, listening to the sound, before smiling. "Merci," he speaks to Pavel, before nodding at Bella. "Mademoiselle." Hooking a foot in Sara's stirrup, Sebastien presses for home.
Pavel waves as Sebastien turns to leave. "Do svidaniya!" He looks around to see where that knife ended up. Then looks to Bella. "Bella tahlk veet Pavel?" Zoyenka is likely going to chase Sara to the treeline.
Bella waves a hand again. At Seb 'n Sara. "Don'tcha worry. Bet yer gonna getta." Then she perks up at Pavel. "Sure. Wassup?"
Pavel falls back to the comfort of the forge. Even people unaffected by cold can still enjoy heat, after all. "Bella, vampeer, vhen tehk ovehr maheend, vhat cahn mehk do? Ees vyery eempohrtahnt fohr seh, pleese."
"Huh?" Bella likes warm too. Don't make her know alla what Pavel's sayin. "Whatcha mean?"
A big finger is pointed in Bella's direction - friendly. "Vampeer. Cahn tehk ovehr maheend." He taps his head a few times. "Pavel seh prohbahbly nohn sooposed to seh vhat Sehbastien seh, boot seem vyery eemportant. Szeenk szat he ees gohing mehk good fryends go bahd, ohr go be dead. He tell Pavel szat vampeer vohman ees een hees hehd. He cahnnot seh to fryends, szees ees prohblem."
Bella's brows pop up. "Really? Huh." She looks after the way Seb went. "Guess I oughtta check bout that. Maybe can figger outta way he can say it ta me." She shruggin when she turns back. "If somebody's in 'is head guess they can tell 'im whatta do. Like anybody else in anybody else's head I guess. Maybe?" Shrugs. "Dunno bout how ev'rybody does stuff like that."
"He seh, she cahn mehk heem do ahnyszeeng. Szat, hees fryends ahr doing sohmszeen szeh szeek vyery eempohrtahnt, boot... mehbe..." Pavel seems to wrestle with words. "Sehbahstien could noht seh all. Boot, he seh szat fryends doheeng sohmszeeng szat veel seem good, boot veel ohnly mehk szeengs vyery, vyery mohr bahd, mehk good peepohl geet keeled. I dohn't knov vhat eet ees." He shrugs, long and hard, obviously concerned about the situation and his own lack of being able to do anything about it. "Boot! Sehbastien seh..." He frowns again, and this time reaches for the translator. << I'm sorry, I hate using these things, but I need to get it right. He said, 'A dozen innocents die every night. I don't know if I could stop that, ever. But I could try. I just, I need help, and I can't get it, because my friends are doing it wrong and I can't say why. So if I ride with them, I can save a few. Maybe. And we will be villains in every sense. Kill the righteous. I know it. Or I can sabotage their misguided plans and allow for the continued slow trickle of deaths, and be cast out by my friends. And the only hope I have of any solution working is in relying in the virtue of Bella.' Do you know what he means? >>
Bella's quiet. So she can listen. 'N listen s'more. Nods some too. Then she talks. "Huh. Yeah. Think I know what he's talkin bout." She smirks again some. Shakes her head a li'l. "Gotta big secret mission op thing comin up. He's all worried a buncha people there're gonna get dead. Ya know. Just fer bein inna wrong place. When stuff starts goin." She shrugs. "But ain't gonn be so bad. Justa worry wart. Gotta good plan 'n stuff. Only ones gettin messed up's gonna be the ones't ain't all innocent."
Pavel nods, somewhat pacified. "So... vhat secryet meeshion? Ohr, ees secryet, no cahn tell Pavel?" He smiles, knowing that 'secret' probably means just that. "Sehbastien, he cohm to Pavel ahnd, fohr beeg knaheet, he cry laheek leetyel behbe. Noh teyrs, boot.. hees vohrds, laheek da.. 'vorry vohrt.' Tyel me of 'Kaomas' tvo taheems, laheek vas eempohrtant messahge szat he could noht seh. Boot, mehbe Pavel joost be hahppy veet Bella's vohrds."
"Super secret kind." Bella nods. "Ain't really s'posed ta talk bout't. Just ta be safe. Ya know?" She smirks then. "He can be a big baby can't he? Don't worry none. Just Seb bein Seb. Wants ta do things all super careful alla time. Ain't always gotta time ta do that."
"Da. Pavel knov. Noht alvehs szeengs cahn be pehrfehct fohr yevehryohne," he stokes the flames a little - naturally this time - "Pavel vould cohm eef need, boot noht cohm fohr joost ahsk. Have mahny szeengs peepohl vant mehk." He turns and looks at his forge, adding, "Szeenk need bahk to vohrk nov, Bella."
Bella's grinnin again. Maybe even smilin. "Nah. But s'all good. Don't wanna keep ya from workin. Told ya yer gonna be all busy. Ev'rybody wanna get yer stuff." The smilin's last thing he sees. When she just sorta melts back inta the fog.
Pavel watches Bella evaporate. Humidifiers are so cool. He's then quickly back to his work, even at this absurdly early hour of the morning. Whistling.
