Roses on the Mountain [Cassair, Dimel - Closed]

Dimel watched the young woman walk up. He thought at first she would ask some innocent question and hadn't expected to be recognized. Now which facade did she know best, he wondered.

While he studied her appearance for further clues to identify her Dimel straightened up and stopped leaning to greet her.

"Hello," he smiled not sure of how this woman knew his name. "How are you?"

His mind busily made a list of possibilities. He hadn't been to a brothel or the like in awhile, so he doubted she was from one of those establishments. He would have remembered that silver hair of hers anyway. His fellow assassins had their own individual ways they greeted each other. If she was one, which he highly doubted, she was new. Well, a simple innocuous question or two would change that. His smuggling contacts wouldn't know where he was at, neither did his family.

While she might be a friend of a brothel girl, it was more than likely she was simply a person he had encountered in his travels, although he still thought that hair would be recognizable. He liked seeing how it curled in loose waves. It went well with her blue eyes.

There would have been a time he would have taken her offer immediately even if he held suspicions. However, the growing tension in the Empire had left him on edge. The rest of Reluir was sleeping in its isolation, not caring what transpired beyond her borders, while Dimel had to deal with it regularly when on missions.

Dimel still couldn't place the attractive lady which bothered him. He shifted his weight to his other foot and gave her a polite smile to hint at interest in her offer.

"I was going to meet a friend soon. Might I ask what this is about?"

There was no friend he was waiting for, it was merely to set up his excuse. Perhaps she'd put her hand on the table now rather than forcing him to say no.

There wasn't any noticable change in Dimel's demeanor when the illusion started but in seconds his eyes and lips grew tight. The bundle was all too familiar and the linger scent accompanying it verified the memory. Dimel only knew of one person who was both an illusionist strong enough to touch on all of the senses and was also present at that particular fiasco.

The recognition twisted back into a polite smile before any onlookers would notice. "That's quite a gift."

"You're just like your mother. She was adept at illusions too." Dimel lied smoothly. He never knew Cassair's mother, but his instincts demanded he carry on the conversation as if there was nothing out of the ordinary going on.

He stepped forward and put a hand affectionat key on the young 'woman's' shoulder. "What did you need help with?" He asked as he indicated to Cassair with a slight wave of his hand that he was waiting for Cass to lead way.

The count wouldn't have had any idea where Dimel was, so it really did seem like a chance encounter. With the heightened tension toward outsiders, he wasn't surprised the Count was under the guise of an illusion.

Dimel remained relaxed as he followed along casually. As he thought about it, Cassair would be the kind of person to know how to sneak around based on the rumors he's heard. Dimel kept the friendly facade with a pleasant smile and chatted, "Very. How is the tea shop?" He wanted to know how Belenos was doing, but he doubted Cass would be concerned with that, yet it made for a good topic to cover their intent.

"My friend will assume that I was called away on business," he continued to lie. The people dwindled and they moved from the busy streets to a quieter area through the alleyways. This again, the thought groaned in his mind. How many times had he done this, finding some quiet or unobserved place to talk. All while pretending to be some peasant encumbered by a familiar routine. Cass was quiet, but given the circumstances, he'd stand out more if the tried carrying on a conversation anyways. Although, Dimel wondered how well Cassair could hide himself as a citizen given the familiarity with which he was navigating these streets.

The sight of people was infrequent, most in doors or elsewhere. Experience told him that no one was paying attention by this point. The wind wouldn't carry their words into the streets, or have them echo off the walls.

Dimel paused in his steps. Continuing with an unchanging facade he pleasantly quipped, "I somehow doubt this lovely place is your home away from home. While I'm curious, I have to ask what could one innocent little tea merchant like myself have to attract your attention when I left all my tea at home?"

It took Dimel a little longer than he liked to pick up the fact they were cloaked in an illusion. He thought about how Cassair was familiar with the area at the same time reflecting on the strength of his magic. He didn't know the scope of what Cassair was capable of, he only trusted in the idea that Cassair really had no intention of causing him harm at the moment. At least, not from what Dimel could judge. Cassair's demeanor was very closed, and the smile gave off a false sense of security. If he had met Cassair under different circumstances he would have assumed the smile was genuine until proven otherwise.

Then again, he'd lived in Iadlain before and knew that only certain kinds of people thrived there. If the Count was really in control, not just a leader in title only, then he was fairly intelligent.

Dimel responded by nodding affirmatively, "Tea sounds pretty good right about now. It would be nice to add to my personal collection, unless you simply wanted a cup. Since you're a guest in my country, I can treat you to one."

Even if Cassair responded with a question, he doubted that this visit was simply going to be about tea. What trouble was this man getting into this time? As part of the assassins, Dimel felt it was his obligation to see to it that Cassair didn't cause too much trouble. The Guild might need to know what Cassair was up to, and extending an overture of hospitality was at least respectful to the man. It was a gesture on Dimel's part to show that he was at least a neutral party in all of this.

"How often do you visit here? Is there something or someone that catches your attention?"

Dimel was wondering when the Count was finally going to drop a hint of what he was doing here. So, was one of the markets his chief interest or was he simply going to waste his time? Not that he had any pressing matters at the moment. Now, if he treated this meeting the way he was treating his life, he'd say Atros was pushing him the Count's way for whatever reason the god had in mind.

He mimicked Cass's unreadable pleasant smile and answered, "A few, mostly involving tea, alchemical supplies, literature, and some rarer collectibles. Unfortunately I'm city-bound at the moment, so any inquiries on your behalf, if you are looking for something, would have to be Relan in nature. I can't help you with any imports from Koben or the Kingdom."

If Cass didn't read into his sentence, then he doubted the Count was going to open up about what legal or illegal good he was after. Dimel doubted that Cass was after anything obvious since he was hiding in Reluir when he knew the city well enough he could have obtained anything he wanted.

He started to take in a breath when he realized he was agitated. Dimel stopped himself from directly asking the Count whether he was after something illegal or legal. The dark elf let the breath out with a sigh. After that fiasco with the child, he had always been on edge when the Count's name was mentioned. It was quite clear the man may smile but he was married to the Wispwood like all of the Iadlish.

Why did he feel the need to dispense with the game and all of its formalities around the Count? Their game of courtesies should continue... Dimel felt he had hinted enough or left his statement about collectibles as ambiguous as he could get without outright saying 'illegal'. Now it was Cassair's turn to talk in circles or vaguely hint at what he might want if he wanted anything at all. Dimel didn't put it above the man if he simply was bored and asking questions to entertain himself.

((I'm using 'married to the Wispwood' for meaning that the Iadlaish have a dark side or a hidden side))