A piece of bat guano. Bat guano. Offal. Excrement.

And it was on his shoulder.

Jais stared at the sticky substance and resisted the urge to throw himself against the dripping walls to wallow in all his righteous misery... Bat guano! Eligible Damsel #2 was even watching! What would she think of the oozing piece of...

"Oh dear heavens," he spewed out suddenly, so mired in his self-perdition that he tripped over the first stair and fell on his impeccable face. Had ED2 seen that? She didn't appear to be watching, but women were quite efficient at those oblique kinds of glances that had men flinching uncomfortably in their breeches. He cleared his throat and stumbled gracefully to his feet as the footsteps ahead neared.

The first thought to cross his mind was, Can't the idiots up there send a better welcome committee? Aloud, he snapped by way of greeting, "Your ugly face ceases to amuse me. I've got lotion in my quarters for that too. There's some dry skin peeling off your nose."

Master Belnarr, architect-and-stonemason-in-one-ball-of-not-so-nice-temperament, stumped to a halt and glared. "M'nose is perfectly fine, boy!" he roared, huge fists clenching. "An' if ye so much as mention - "

"So how are your dry palms?" Jais asked cheerfully.

"Now yer gettin' it, boy!" came a bellow that fairly shook the frangible roof above them.

With a taunting grin, Jais dove for cover behind the Genius. Ever the predictable architect-and-stonemason-in-one-ball-of-not-so-nice-temperament, Belnarr charged after him. Fortunately for Jais's complexion, the Genius impeded his charge as surely as though he'd run into a brick wall.

"Phantom Grey!" gasped Belnarr, as flustered as anyone had ever seen him.

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The Phantom, mildly winded, was nevertheless slightly amused by this turn of events. "You're a rotter, Jais," he chided mildly - but it was at this moment that the limp noble slung over his shoulder uttered a muffled groan. Scuffle immediately forgotton, the Phantom set Jate right side up, keeping hold of one of the boy's arm's. He was undeniably relieved at the removal of this substantial weight. Earlier he'd taken the precaution of binding the noble's hands behind him, which meant it didn't have to be done now, and the small band continued up into the lower level of the Phantom's Keep.

Eledhe was smirking slightly. If nothing else, Jais was comic relief, something she didn't strenuously object to.

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Kjan continued to trudge along at the back of the group, glaring rather sullenly at the ground before him. Truth be told, he wasn't very happy at all about having to turn his horse loose when they'd reached the tunnel. Of course he trusted the animal to find its way home once again, but he'd been hoping to finally bring it to the Keep, as he'd been planning to do for some time. It was his horse, after all, and he doubted his father had much use for it.

So wrapped up in his thoughts was Kjan that he failed entirely to notice the large pothole before him, almost completely obscured by the dark anyway. Without warning, the group ahead heard a loud splash, followed by a string of incoherent curses, followed by Kjan further employing his rather colorful vocabulary to loudly inform the others exactly what he thought of traveling at the back of a group through a poorly-constructed, wet tunnel with no torch of his own.

This tirade continued -albeit a bit more quietly- until Kjan finally caught up to the group at the top of the stairs and noticed that everyone was staring at him-- including Silvryn, who was now standing behind Belnarr and tapping a foot impatiently. Kjan immediately grimmaced and fell quiet. Noting that he was still the center of attention, he cleared his throat. "I apologize that you had to hear that, milady," he finally muttered with a repentant grin that he hoped would suffice. Bowing shortly, he discreetly moved over to stand next to the Phantom.

Silvryn waved a hand dismissively and returned her attention to the man before her. "I assume that you managed to locate Dhiraen before you were captured?" she asked, foregoing any form of greeting.

"Greetings to you too," said the Phantom entirely unperturbed by the high social status of the unimpressed female before him. "And I'm fine, thank you for asking."

Noting their companions, the traffic through these hallways, and the wakeful young noble in front of him, the Phantom concluded that this was not the best time. "Later," he muttered, levity over, and ushered the noble ahead of him down a hall in the opposite direction.

Eledhe, having heard this, watched him depart keenly. She really felt no positive emotion for the haughty Silvryn - princess and mercenary, if different in profession, were decidedly too similar in personality. But Silvryn or no she intended to be in on this 'later', and strode off in the opposite direction as the group split up.

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Jate stared over his shoulder in interest at the lady as the Phantom ushered him down a hallway. What was someone obviously high in social status doing here? Testing the cords around his wrists again, Jateyani sighed. The guy knew how to capture people, that was for sure. Clearing his throat, Jate managed a few words. They came out as though he hadn't spoken in days.
"Wha--What are you going to do with me now you have me here?"

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going on a journey through my old claims

This question simmered for a few seconds before the Phantom realized that he didn't actually know the answer. But of course one couldn't say that outright, as he'd learned from years of being in a position of leadership. "I don't think I'm going to tell you," he eventually answered contemplatively. The words held no threatening tone, only a rather matter-of-fact one. It concealed nicely that the Phantom really didn't know quite what to do in his situation.

He remembered the boy's words, though...So is that your plan, take down the Regent in order to set up someone else who could be just as bad? He'd struck a nerve, no doubt about it. The Phantom hesitated.

Another moment and he'd turned, steel-grey eyes appraising the boy. what he had in mind couldn't hurt. A flick of a dagger and he'd cut the ropes holding Jate's wrists. "Follow me."

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((Anybody still with me, guys? There's more plot stuff coming, I assure you ))

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((Aye, I'm here, just having a brain freeze on what to post. lol. I'll try to think of something overnight!))

Jate stared at the back of the Phantom as he walked away, trying to puzzle out the enigma. He came to a start, however, as he realized he was being left behind. It'd be great to do some exploring here, but somehow I don't think my host would be too thrilled with that, Jate thought wryly to himself. He followed the man, barely avoiding tripping over his feet.

The place seemed quiet. Too quiet. At first trying to concentrate on the turns the pair were taking, Jate began to feel uneasy as he heard no sounds. Usually someone would talk, somewhere. The back of his neck prickled.

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going on a journey through my old claims

Eventually voices did begin to faintly pervade the still, slightly musty underground air, but the Phantom ducked into a series of spacious, furnished chambers before he was quite in the thick of it.

A sprawling writing desk took up one wall, entirely covered with papers strewn in no particular order, with inkstands haphazardly positioned at sporadic intervals. Most were nearing empty. The Phantom was evidently not an inherently organized leader, though it didn't prevent him from being an effective one.

This was further illustrated when he had to move a pair of kittens off a large chair also strewn with paper in order to sit down. The Phantom grimaced. "I keep telling Temrys to keep her pets out," he muttered, glancing at Jate, and gestured to a miraculously empty chair opposite. "Well. Tell me about the Regent."

-----

Eledhe could have screamed in frustration. Did the Phantom not know the meaning of organization?! Her own desk was scrupulously neat - it wasn't that difficult!

In any case, the rumpled stack of papers before her was distinctly unhelpful. Eledhe had a sneaking suspicion it had been trampled by the helpful if slightly too animal-oriented Telsyn's kittens - and let alone that, what had the Phantom been doing? Most of these were oblique sketches, the importance of which she couldn't fathom. Perhaps she should acquire an assistant who could read.

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Jate blinked, and gave a start. "What? Why should I say anything?" he asked increduously, the words out of his mouth before he thought about them. He saw the Phantom's flint eyes grow harder, if such a thing was possible, and gulped. This man could have him killed on a whim. Rubbing his hands nervously, Jate glanced down at a charcoal-grey kitten by his feet. He scooped the animal up and plopped on the chair.

"Um...yes. Well. The Regent. Ah..." The kitten, at first purring, began to fix Jateyani with a cold stare due to his increasing rubbing. "Wh-what exactly do you want to know?" He finished, trying to think of some way to stay whole, but not betray his lord.

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going on a journey through my old claims

The Phantom eyed him a moment before replying. "I don't suppose you'll tell me things like his battle plans," he observed languidly. "Be surprised if you even knew them. Is he - worried, do you think? Perhaps anxious that his kingdom is not quite as loyal to him as he might wish?"

The boy's answer was, of course, not entirely reliable. He could be lying - he might refuse entirely to say anything - in which case the Phantom would have an unfortunately useless captive on his hands. The thought of torture never crossed his mind at all, only the inconvenience caused if Jate persisted in being annoyingly loyal to the wrong side. But it really couldn't hurt to ask.

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Jate felt a flash of irritation at the Phantom's remark. I could too know any plans if I wanted to, he thought to himself.
"Worried. Let's see, maybe the thought that some outsider is coming into the kingdom, killing his soldiers and stirring up rebellion in the outer places wouldn't worry you if you were in charge, but I think the Regent may actually care a bit more about his people than that." Jate grimaced inside at his sarcastic edge, wondering how the Phantom would take it. "But, of course, he doesn't feel any great threat from a group of band-" Jate closed his mouth tightly. What was he thinking, volunteering all of this?
He tried to buy time, casting his eyes about the room. A slip of a map caught his eye, buried under some papers on the desk. Jate's mind began to race. Keep calm. If I can somehow manage to see that map, I might find out where we are. And then escape and lead the Regent right here! I'll be a hero! Jate tried to think of some way to look at the map.

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going on a journey through my old claims

"Firebrand, aren't you." The Phantom shifted in his chair, carelessly draping one leg, leather boot nearly to his knee, over the carved oaken arm. "Aye, I'd be worried - if I were doing everything you said. Who've you been getting your information from, boy? I won't deny there have been skirmishes, but I've killed no soldiers who didn't attack my men first. I'm running a rebellion, not a civil war."

He grinned wryly, with a touch of ironic resignation. "Bandits. That's what we were. But last time I checked, Jate - that's your name, is it not? - bandits have no city in the mountains. Bandits aren't supported by half the peasants outside Y'rydha." He paused, examining the young noble opposite calculatingly. "You knew my lady Silvryn on sight, did you not? King's Heir, Princess of Kytana, Ambassador to the Wilds of Vidyr. Silvryn Seilhera. Bandits are not supported by royalty. Royalty deposed - and make no mistake, your nobles know more of that than they let on - but royalty nonetheless. She will sit on the throne in Y'rydha again."

Casually he snatched an apple from the bowl on the table between them and tossed it across. "Unexpected upside to raiding caravans. Before you ask, no, I haven't killed any merchants. Relieved them of some unnecessary riches, perhaps. They're all alive still." He leaned forward. "More than you can say our nobles intended to my lady Silvryn."

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The Genius and his pet noble were gone. Belnarr had enigmatically departed to put on some face lotion. ED2 had pranced off to do something highly significant that had nothing whatsoever to do with him. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Why was it that women were never impressed by his inborn charm? He washed his face, applied his lotion, had an impeccable fashion sense... unlike a few people he knew...

Whether by deliberation or innocent coincidence, Jais's gaze wandered over to Kjan. CQS responded with remarkable inobservance. It never struck Jais that he could simply be ignoring him.

Which only left the former thief with one emotional state: bored out of his mind. And everyone in the Phantom's ingenuous little crew knew, from hard experience, that a bored Jais was a dangerous Jais.

He trudged over to a wonderful crag of rock and plopped down. The steady drip-drip of water somewhere down the tunnel echoed like a symphony in his ears. But a concerto of dripping water can only entertain for so long. At length he heaved a sigh that came right from his toes. He glanced sidelong at CQS.

"Hey jester. Want to come for a walk?" This innocuous invitation was one that'd have been described by his grandmother as a "euphemism." If he'd been a less sensitive, compassionate, tactful being, he would have simply asked, Want to come on a perilous expedition which could result in me being curious which could result in the entire mountain crashing around our ears which could result in your untimely demise? But that would not only sound rude, it'd break CQS's frangible emotional shields. Besides, Jais couldn't hold his breath for that long.

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Instinctively catching the apple, Jate looked at it with mixed emotions. Raided food. But his stomach was telling him how far away dinner had been. He set the apple on his lap for the time being. Better to show this man where his loyalties started, no matter his hunger.

"Lady Silvryn is a traitor to the Regent and Y'rydha," Jate said stiffly, though inside his thoughts were churning. Supported by Silvryn. Put her on the throne. He wondered how much more information he could get from this casual conversation - well, as casual as it could be with one man as the hawk and Jate as the rabbit.
"And what need do you have for the merchants riches?" The thought struck him. Though messy, the room was well furnished. Lights gleamed on good wooden furniture, paper was everywhere. A wealth of ink flowed from the desk. The cave entrance to the city was dank, but from what Jate had seen of the place it wasn't bad off. "Aren't you just hoarding up their riches to be your riches?"

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going on a journey through my old claims