[An RP between Lyrena Auberan and Zaven Bel'Samoth]
Lyrena Auberan made her way across the High Walk on the second level of the city, entering the neighborhood of homes that appropriately housed a higher class of citizens, usually those with the gift of birthright, or unusual talent. Such would be the case with the so called Lord Bel'Samoth - who had recently requested a personal visit from her, with surprisingly polite wording, given the reasons behind it, and the usual impatience of those that are highborn, and scorned. Lyrena arrived at the house, making her way behind it, where the front door was. The Blood elf hesitated a bit, grumbled even at the prospect of this being a long and irritating meeting. Her gauntleted hand extended, and knocked a few times on the fine wood - perhaps a bit louder than is cordial, though that might be attributed to the metal on her knuckles. She then leaned back, and waited, her face mostly void of expression - and entirely of enthusiasm.
Zaven Bel'Samoth stood up wearily from the couch and moved to answer the front door, irritated to have his afternoon disturbed. "Who is banging…" he began in a strained, angry tone as he opened it just enough to peer out, then recognised the unmistakable form of the Dame Commander stood just outside. He adjusted his expression into a congenial smile. "Why Dame Commander Auberan," he said, this time in a soft, inviting baritone. "You are most welcome. I confess I was just about to turn you from my doorstep, but since it is you," this word he embellished with warmth, "you must come in. Forgive my home - it is my city dwelling and not the best surrounding to receive visitors within. Won't you come to the kitchen and perhaps I can make us some tea."
He stepped back to permit the Dame Commander to enter and, assuming she did so, closed the door quietly behind her. "I must say, I did not expect to receive this honour so soon after leaving my note at the Guardian barracks. I am most grateful. Will you share a cup of peppermint tissane with me?"
Lyrena clenched her golden eyes a bit as she heard that initial, disgruntled shout, but waited in place nonetheless, mostly still while the elven lord approached the door, seemingly recognized her right away, and allowed her into his residence. The Blood elf continued to stand outside in silence, for several more seconds - as if to signal that she had hoped a doorstep conversation would suffice. Seeing Zaven's enthusiastic welcoming, though, the Dame Commander huffed through her nose, and decided to come in, her steps slow and heavy upon the finely tiled floor. "No tea.", the Blood elf sternly rejected, her eyes falling back upon Lord Zaven's own, after her gaze had briefly faltered away to halfheartedly study the interior of the elven man's house - which had so recently been broken into. Having still not formally addressed the aristocrat, Lyrena invited herself deeper into his home, peering from one room into the next - not very thoroughly, as if searching for only the most obvious signs of intrusion and vandalism. After about half a minute, she peered past her shoulder at the finely dressed man, then turned towards him fully. "You say nothing was taken? Was anything destroyed?", she asked, right onto business again.
Zaven smiled and watched the elf commander look around the small town house he kept on the High Walk. When she returned to him, he smiled at her question. "Come now," he said, a friendly smile on his lips, "let us take a moment to appreciate one another's company, Dame Commander," he said. "This is our first meeting, and we are both outsiders to this fine city. Yet we have chosen to make it our home and dedicate ourselves to its service, each in our own way." His voice was warm and friendly, though a little quiet, so that it sounded like he might be recovering from a cold or currently experiencing ill health. But nothing in his physical appearance suggested he was unwell. He gestured to the couch. "Here, won't you sit, Dame Commander? I want to tell you how very safe I feel having you appointed as the leader of our fine Guardians. King Malekith, Gods rest his spirit," he crossed one arm over his chest and bowed his head as he said this, "made very unusual decisions. But I am something of a fan of bucking the trend, you know? So before we come on to the nasty business of my recent break-in, tell me: how is life in charge of Ansa`fel's elite police force treating you? I want to know all about your work to keep us all safe."
Lyrena studied Zaven's expression closely as he made another attempt at pleasantries - one the Blood elf felt tempted to shut down yet again, but as it turned out, she let the elven man say his piece from start to finish. Her mostly neutral look gave way to occasional micro-expressions. Zaven was addressing her in a somewhat familiar, highborn joviality that made it a bit unclear to Lyrena whether his words were all honest, or if some were laced with sarcasm. She clenched her eyes a bit again, particularly when Zaven mentioned the safety of the city, and her role in securing it. "Is that how you feel? Safe?", she asked with perked eyebrows, with a certain intensity that sought to make the elven man break his sarcastic sugarcoating of her performance, if such was in place. "The Guardians do what we can. We still have a lack of volunteers. Soldiers we have not replaced after this year's calamities.", she reported after being prompted to do so. Her words yet again had a beckoning firmness to them - as if they were reminding Zaven of circumstances she felt he was aware of already. Finally, after all that, she peered towards the sofa the lord had called her to, then back at him. "Lord Zaven.", she addressed him, for the first time. "…Tell me about your break-in."
Zaven sighed in sympathy as she spoke of the deaths of her men. "Ah yes," he said regretfully. "Your tenure has beem somewhat eventful so far, hasn't it Dame Commander?" He smiled with what appeared to be genuine empathy. "But you have been a victim of circumstances, not incompetence. I am certain of it." His tone and expression and posture all congruently suggested he was being genuine in his friendliness and concern. "Your predecessor… now there was an incompetent man." He studied her expression. "Ah yes, yes," he said in response to her visible annoyance and verbal wish to focus on business. "I am sorry, I am taking too much of your time as it is." He leaned against the back of the chair at the desk and his tone became a little more serious. "Then business it is," he said. "I can appreciate a professional when I encounter one." He looked around the small lounge. "No, nothing was taken," he confirmed. "There is not, in fact, much to take. I keep this home very sparse. Very sparse indeed." There was regret in his tone, though whether it was genuine or affected was unclear. "But I know someone was in here. The lock on the door was damaged very slightly - a single scratch - and things were not in their place." He gestured to the room. "It is hard to explain. I don't mean to say that chairs were moved or that that fern was somewhere else, for example," he said, gesturing to the plant. "Rather, small things. A book was tilted slightly wrongly here; a goblet sat just next to the ring it had left the night before there. Small things. Details you would notice, Dame Commander, I am sure. And details I notice because… well, I notice such things." He smiled. "I would not normally bother you with this, but some of my neighbours have mentioned to me that they experienced similar events, and so I felt it my civic duty to speak to you. Noble to noble, so to speak. My neighbours do not hold a title such as mine - though I hold mine in little esteem, I assure you - but I felt my title might get us attention that they had previously not had. Naughty, I know." He smiled impishly. "Will you forgive me?"
Lyrena listened as Zaven replied to her in his own masterfully prolonged way, maintaining that same optimistic attitude that almost made her feel guilty for having been so cold with him. Not that she would apologize or have a loud change of heart, of course. But Zaven could notice little, subtle changes on her face that she herself likely wasn't aware she was even making. "A single scratch?", she asked, a bit surprised that something like this would stand out to the homeowner, not long after the aristocrat recounted the little detail. She peered towards the other objects and areas as Zaven pointed them out, and didn't particularly have an explanation for any of the odd, practically random alterations the intruder had imposed. "You pay close attention to your things.", she called out, again peering around the room, in general. Zaven had spoken modestly of his home - and it certainly wasn't big - but it was kitted out more fashionably than the Blood elf's own, if nothing else. Upon that final confession Zaven made, she clenched her eyes, but then nodded, just in acknowledgment. "Your neighbors do not lie.", she confirmed. "What happened to you, it has been done to others. Half a dozen times in the past month alone. Little, or nothing taken.", she herself recalled the reports. "We recently jailed a man we thought might be responsible. We were wrong.", she concluded, not elaborating on why. "These burglars, they are looking for something very specific. And trying not to cause a mess in the process. Or bring attention to themselves.", was her own theory. She looked upon Zaven again, afterwards, her eyes meeting his own. "And you have no idea who? Someone with a grudge? Someone who likes to play jokes?"
Zaven spread his arms wide in a sort of 'search me' gesture. "I've no idea," he said, sounding somewhat exasperated. He chuckled for a moment to himself. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was just thinking of my business rivals. They lack the subtlelty to do what you have described," he said to explain his humour. "They're more the smash and grab kind of operatives. They call themselves merchants, but they are thieves and skivers to a man." He gestured exasperation by blowing air through his nose. He had seen some of Lyrena's thoughts and emotions cross her face, but his own placid, pale visage was a picture of control. Then, almost as an after-thought, he asked: "Do you have any idea what they might be looking for?"
:: Lyrena Auberan didn't argue with Zaven's assessments of his rivals, though the waiting look on her face as the elven man described them showed Lyrena waited to interject. "Are you sure you are not underestimating them? Any one of them?", she bluntly asked with a focused look, after that tangent the man had gone on, presumably in an attempt to play down his rivals. "No.", she answered directly. "Why would I?" The words were rhetorical, and in consequence, Lyrena didn't wait to hear her companion's opinion on the subject. "You know best what you have that would be worth taking, Lord Zaven. Or why someone would think you have something unusual, extraordinary in your possession.", the Dame Commander deflected the question. "…As for the others, Lord Izelwynk pointed out a hundred things his burglar could have wanted. And a few bags of gold. Nothing was taken.", she recalled one of the previous cases. "I do not see a clear pattern here. I have been increasing patrols, but with our current numbers, we cannot cover all areas, day and night. It is not possible."
For the first time since the Dame Commander had entered, Zaven paused. Just a moment; just a fraction of a fraction of a second. It is possible Lyrena wouldn't even notice. He didn't notice. "Underestimate them?" he laughed. "I would be delighted to be able to underestimate them," he said. His voice remained jovial, but there was the slightest edge to it. "They are all…" again, the tiniest pause… "poor businessmen," he finished as though he had always intended to say those words. "Ah, dear Lord Izelwynk," he smiled, the total ease back in his speech. "A fool, but a rich and kind one, and always willing to sponsor a charity I have found. I am glad to hear that nothing was taken from him. I had not yet spoken to him." He tilted his head at her assertion she had increased patrols. "Increased patrols are welcome, of course," he said. "Though on that subject, I do wonder, Dame Commander, if they could be a little quieter when they pass through the High Walk. Their banter, while amusing, is not the most restful at 3 o'clock in the morning." He sighed. "Ah, but I know men well, and I know I ask of you the impossible there." His speech came to a natural pause and he found himself shrugging. "Well then," he said after a moment. "It seems that you and I are at a loss to be able to help one another. I don't wish to keep you, Dame Commander." He smiled politely, though there was now a general sense of being done with the conversation in his body language. A slight rigidity had crept into his stance and he had glanced twice at the house door while he had spoken.
:: Lyrena Auberan had kept her eyes on Zaven after her own speech concluded. Her lids looked as if they twitched a bit while the lord's demeanor momentarily faltered. Or did they? Lyrena's own demeanor had evolved slightly since the start of the meeting. From being utterly cold and short-spoken, to just slightly more cordial, and thus, so did facets of her body language. "I will warn them.", the Blood elf promised in regards to the night-time attitudes of her patrolling Guardians. Not with a lot of vigor in her voice - she hadn't show much of that since coming here either way, but it sounded like she would host a twenty-second long stern talking-to, at some point. She saw the door as Zaven peered to it. She looked back at her companion, and waited in case he was cutting the meeting short out of politeness - and would perhaps rather ask more of her. If nothing came, she broke the silence herself. "This cannot keep happening.", Lyrena offered, in some form of formal sympathy. She took the first step towards the door, then the next several until her hand clasped the handle. There was a delay, as the Dame Commander thought on her parting words. "Perhaps I will behead the next burglar the Guardians catch. Personally.", she said, without looking back at the homeowner. "Let people know.", were the blonde's last words, just as she opened the door fully, and left, closing it behind her.
Zaven leaned against the door once she had left and closed his eyes. His expression, a mask of friendliness, changed just slightly now that she was gone. For a moment he stood, breathing calmly with his back to the wood and then a wide smile broke across his face. He reached down into a pouch at his belt and drew out a long, black cigarillo. He lit it and inhaled deeply, small puffs of smoke drifting from his lips. "Goodbye, Dame Commander. Thank you for coming," he said softly to the empty room, quietly enough that she wouldn't hear, even if she had lingered outside. He chuckled to himself then, which rapidly descended into coughing as smoke poured from his nose and mouth and tears watered from his eyes. That was probably loud enough to hear, though it would have sounded like any other coughing fit. Once he was able to breathe again, he stood up shaking his head at himself and walked to sit on the couch to finish the smoke, a smile lingering on his pale lips and something else flashing in his blue eyes.