Dinnertime Interrogations

[Blakie13]

The elf tilted his head curiously, trying to read the woman's expression. He wondered if he had perhaps offended her in some manner.


In many conversations he had had with Avaric, they had discussed SI:7 and its role in Stormwind. Apparently it was just as inept in Stormwind as Silvermoon intelligence thought it to be. Not that he dared mention that to Lillic. Avaric laughed at their frequent incompetence, loudly and often. And although Corec treated them as a threat, he never treated them with the same caution as approaching Darnassus or the Undercity.


"Homeland security... hmm," Belenar replied, testing the unfamiliar phrase. "I think an organisation dedicated to that is... a good thing. Is Stormwind really so nervous they need it? It is quite a fortified city, and my brother has a high respect for the military power it commands. Sorry, this is prying too much, is it not? We just don't have something comparable at home..." he trailed off. Maybe not entirely true, with the Magisterium, but there were many glaring differences between what SI:7 and the Magisterium of Silvermoon did.

 

[Zazkiel]

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Lillic leaned back in her seat slightly and raised an eyebrow at Belenar. "We're an extremely well-fortified city, of course. That's why we had a smoldering hole in part of our city grid for years, after the rise of Deathwing."


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She knew the elf didn't mean any harm, but the question still stung. Her people had the potential to do <em>so much good</em> for the city, but instead they wasted it by willfully turning their heads away from every source of danger in an attempt to find a larger problem.


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She pushed her uneaten pastry at Belenar. "Do you want this? I'm afraid I overestimated how hungry I was, I think I'm still a bit overwhelmed from the Veil feast."


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[Blakie13]

Bel nodded in thanks, taking the barely touched pastry with gratitude.


After nibbling a few bites, he decided he should answer. "I hope it wasn't a rude question, I guess I shouldn't make assumptions. Silvermoon has a giant scar running through it, preventing a lot of rebuilding, but we have our magic, wards, walls, and gates to even get into Quel'thalas, let alone Silvermoon itself..." he rambled, frowning softly. "Yet infiltration still happens, so I shouldn't be surprised Deathwing's rampage harmed defenses..."


He lost himself in thought for a moment. He hadn't thought how he might appear to Lillic, as an agent protecting her people. He was, technically speaking, a very relevant threat to Stormwind security, if he got in without much trouble. It was... disconcerting to think what more malicious entities could get away with in the city.


He had a thought. Was she even true nobility, in any sense...

 

[Zazkiel]

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The elf had completely lapsed into thought. Lillic allowed herself to break noble decorum for a moment, resting her chin in her hand as she planted her elbow on the table.


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Belenar absently gnawed on his pastry as he obviously thought something through. "Is something bothering you?"


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[Blakie13]

Belenar glanced at her, realising how much time had passed.


"Oh, apologies. I was just... not to sound... off-putting. But... Are you real nobility?" The elf quirked his brow delicately, his pose shifting into a relaxed, yet regal position. So many things clicked with this thought process. He had just assumed human nobility put out a different aura than what nobility existed back home.

 

[Zazkiel]

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"The Sherwoods <em>are</em> a noble family." Lillic said vaguely, trying to give him the information he was asking for without explicitly stating it.


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"They're based in Duskwood, and their last daughter recently passed away. It made sense." She actually knew Lily, she'd been a fellow agent.


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She'd absolutely <em>hated </em>undercover work, and had almost exclusively worked in the more combat-focused branch of the SI:7.


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[Blakie13]

The elf grinned sweetly in response, his eyes almost teasing.


"It would make sense, no? It's just... in the short time I have known you, you don't exactly make the impression of a noble. How did you learn your... role?" He asked, innocently.


He scrambled for a second, holding up his hands in an apologetic gesture. "I think... I think that sounded not how I meant it. Your.. atmosphere? The uh... way you carry yourself, yes?"

 

[Zazkiel]

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"I like to think I can pass as a noble, thank you." Lillic replied, slightly stung.


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"I've been trained, just like how you trained as a-what, a mage?" She was assuming he wasn't a warlock, at least. If he was, she'd have to actually deal with him.


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[Blakie13]

Belenar nodded. "Again, not to offend. It might be me comparing Stormwind nobility to Silvermoon nobility?" He was quite certain that wasn't all there was to it, but he didn't want to anger her.


"I guess a mage is a good way to put it. I'm being trained and groomed for a seat in the Magisterium, actually..." The elf said quietly, certain that it might be too much information. But one has to be willing to offer vulnerabilities in order to learn more information, sometimes. He thought to himself. "Mage is a... not a great term, in Silvermoon? We call ourselves mages, but humans use mage to refer to any magic user who is not holy, elemental, or a druid. Or fel, I suppose. In Silvermoon, everyone can use magic. So we specify. Arcanists, pyromancers, cryomancers, enchanters, magisters, and so on. So yes. Mage works," Bel finished quickly, blushing over his overly detailed answer.

 

[Zazkiel]

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"But Magisters are usually one of the others, yes? Arcanists or pyromancers who happen to hold a Magisterium seat?" If they didn't also learn more dangerous kinds of magic, they wouldn't be so feared.


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"And we have mages who call themselves those things, it's not strictly an elven thing. Pyromancer Denholm takes great pride in his title, for instance."


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<strong>Pyromancer Byrne</strong>. As soon as he'd achieved his mastery in Dalaran, he'd returned to Lillic with gleeful news that his title was now a pun on <em>his own name</em>. She'd almost kicked him off the side of the wall they'd been on.


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[Blakie13]

"Typically speaking, I think. A Magister needs to be more than a master, they need to be an absolute... savant-I think that's the word, like a genius but more?- in their craft. They often take it for granted, I suppose..." Belenar trailed off for a moment. Magistrix Rivena came to mind, an unparalleled genius outside of the Magisterium, but constantly trying to improve herself. I suppose if you're among equals, you'll never fully see your own greatness against the general populace...


"But that's... hmm. Not what I meant. Mage is just... so general to us, I suppose is the best way to put it," he finally stated. "I will say while it's not strictly elven... human magic is very... rudimentary," he said quietly. He was sure that would be considered offensive.

 

[Zazkiel]

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Another raised eyebrow followed his thoughtless words, and then a soft. "Ah, there's the sense of elven superiority. Glad to see you start out with it young."


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It wasn't that she didn't see where he was coming from, when a race had an entire human lineage in a single generation it could be easy to see the shorter-lived races as <em>rudimentary</em>. But something about hearing the words out of an elf younger than she was made her bristle.


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[Blakie13]

Bel snorted, almost derisively. Then he was struck by inspiration. Lifting his fingers in between himself and Lillic, he made the slightest motion, not even mouthing an incantation. There was only the cafe owner to keep them company, and he had gone into the back.


The elf's eyes flashed, as the cafe began bristling with activity as brooms began sweeping by themselves, dishes putting themselves away, and so on. The cafe was cleaning itself, without the elf doing so much as lifting a finger. "This is a simple enchantment they teach elven children as a training exercise. Enchanting inanimate objects in such a way is considered the sign of a powerful magician among most human circles, taking years of practice before they can even enchant librams. It's not a sense of superiority, merely an expression of a fact humans tend to ignore: we taught you magic, and when we did, it was the basics for battle," the elf stated quietly, trying to keep his tone gentle.


"That being said," Belenar continued smiling, as things settled down before attracting attention,"arrogance is part of our culture, it helps us survive," he teased, pointing at the pendant around his neck, an ornate golden and ruby affair gleaming against his rich, fine clothing. "We're not a subtle people," he joked.

 

[Zazkiel]

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Lillic stiffened at Belenar's blatant <em>showing off</em>, glancing out the window to the canals outside. As he began to speak, oh-so-cavalier about what he was doing, she nodded very slightly and stood up. "I see."


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Oh, he didn't seem to <em>get it,</em> how his arrogance could come across as so demeaning. He thought he was proving a point about elven magic, but really he was just telling Lillic all she needed to know about Belenar's presence in the city.


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"Thank you for accompanying me to this cafe, <em>Magister Duskwhisper</em>. I should probably return you to Avaric before he starts to worry." He really viewed himself as better, and that made him dangerous.


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[Blakie13]

Belenar remained sitting, understanding he had clearly done something to offend the woman. "Magister Duskwhisper is my cousin," he said, almost stupidly, as he stared after her. His expression was that of pure confusion. "Did I do something wrong? I... thought you wanted honesty," he said quietly. The elf had a deeply rooted need to be liked. To be disliked... it was frightening to the young elf.


"He'll be out getting drinks for lunch with Vanalie by now, that was the plan for the day, he'll be gone for hours..." the elf mumbled, suddenly feeling himself tense up. Stormwind. Alone. While Eidric and Avaric were busy. He hadn't been alone in Stormwind since his first trip. He was a blatant target in the human city. Being alone scared him. He felt himself shake slightly. Hopefully the human would think it was cold, she didn't need to know how terrified of Stormwind without the Northblades he was. He tried to stand to follow the human, clearly still bristling in irritation of some kind, but he couldn't.

 

[Zazkiel]

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Lillic held out a hand to help him stand up, noticing his shaking. She, she <strong>wanted </strong>to be cruel. She knew if she wasn't too used to acting like Lillic <em>Sherwood</em> she'd stride out of the building with her head held high and her heels purposefully clacking on the cobblestones.


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But damn it, Belenar needed to be watched. And she couldn't afford to ostracize herself from anyone who knew any of her secrets.


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"There's a difference between honesty and being as blunt as a hammer, my dear."


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Taking a deep breath out through her nose, she unclipped the cloak at her throat and held it out to him instead of an empty hand. The poor idiot was going to freeze to death, if he was used to a land of eternal autumn.


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"You elves, you think you're so much better than us because of your magic. And no, don't say that you <em>don't</em> think that or you didn't <strong>intend</strong> to give that sort of impression, I'm not an idiot." She made sure to keep her voice low and gentle, but there was no mistaking the steel in the meaning of her words.


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[Blakie13]

Belenar took the offered cloak, his expression gleaming in weary gratitude. "I'm... I'm not very good at tact, I guess," he whispered, his mind already attempting to brace for the cold. "That's my brother's specialty," he explained, staring out at the canal through the window.


"I guess we'll have to agree to disagree, as each nation is rather proud with themselves over one thing or another. I... I'm sorry," he said, looking back towards the woman, his fear at the prospect of being alone leeching away.


To distract from the awkward moment, Bel searched for something more to say.

 

[Zazkiel]

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Lillic waited patiently for him to put the cloak on and offer up an elbow, guiding him out of the cafe and back onto the streets. "Do you want to go back to the Northblade's manor, or do you want to go see what Jocryn's up to over at the Broken Vial? I'm pretty sure you'll be interested in the crazy sorts of things he manages to cook up."


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Her girlfriend's brother was a genius, plain and simple. He may not apply himself in the ways that his gifts indicate, preferring ingredients to holy magic, but he was still a damn good healer and a complete savant with creating useful potions.


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[Blakie13]

Knowing that only an empty apartment in Cathedral Square awaited him if he went back to the Northblades', Bel opted for the other option.


"Well, I haven't really gotten to interact with Jocryn. So that sounds... nice," he said, smiling softly, his teeth chattering in the cold. cold that could barely cause a flurry, but cold to him nonetheless. "He seemed nice at the Winter's Veil... thing. Party. Er. Dinner?" Bel muttered to himself, not sure what Common word best fit the context.

 

[Zazkiel]

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"It was a party, there was alcohol and presents." Lillic reassured, absently patting Bel's elbow.


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"He's plenty nice. A little airheaded, but he can focus when it counts. He runs a shop in the Trade District, that's where we're going right now. I know he's there, but we might run into one the two women who run his shop working at the counter. He'll be in back, if Nyza or Trish is working." As they walked she started up another round of mindless smalltalk, determined to get him back to baseline before he had to deal with the raucous trio that Lillic found herself dealing with more and more often.


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[Blakie13]

The young elf felt much calmer by the time they reached the eternally crowded Trade District. The small talk Lillic subjected him to was a lot more calming than he had expected.


The shop was rather nice upon entering, with racks and glass counters filled with vials of all sorts. It was a cozy, wooden interior like much of Stormwind's shops, with nice lighting.


Rather than the man Bel had very briefly met during gift exchanges and dinner, a gnome with vibrant green hair and elaborate dress sat at the counter. Bel was never quite used to when he saw gnomes, more than any other Alliance race. He hoped he was not staring.

 

[Zazkiel]

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Lillic took a deep breath as she entered the shop, calmed by the familiar smell of flora that permeated every room. Nyza's head popped up from behind a tome as the pair walked in, hopping off the countertop hastily.


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"Ah! Hi there Misses Sherwood, it's nice to see you're still in town!" Trying to straighten her dress, Nyza gave a short bow towards Belenar.


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"Are you here for Jocryn? His two <em>friends</em> are here and I'm never really sure if I should give them their privacy when they're down there or if I should treat it the same as when he's here by hims-" Lillic held up a hand to stop the flood of words coming out of the small gnome's mouth, trying not to grin.


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"I'm just here to drop Belenar off, he's in town and wanted to visit Fisk while he was at work." Gesturing towards the door that led to the basement, Lillic patted Belenar on the shoulder.


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"It looks like Avaric and Vanalie are actually taking lunch here. They'll be down there, and if you want to take a look around the shop first I'm sure Jocie would be willing to give you any sort of discount you ask for." Light knows the poor boy had a big enough weakness for pretty and shiny things, two different categories Belenar fit squarely in to.


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[Blakie13]

The elf quietly said a gentle goodbye as the woman pointed him towards the basement door. He really saw no choice but to knock on the door to the basement, as being around the strange gnome, as nice as she was, made him anxious. Plus, alchemy had never been one of his favoured subjects, and he'd be lying if claimed the shops wares held his interest more than aesthetically. Potions could be rather pretty, and the glass bottles serving to accent the beauty.


Slowly walking over to the door, nodding to the gnome returning to her book, he gently rapped on the door.

 

[Zazkiel]

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Jocryn paused, mouth open and sandwich halfway to his mouth, as the basement door was knocked on.


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"Uhhh, not it." He said intelligently, darting his eyes between Avaric and Vanalie.


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The trio had hunkered down in the corner of his workshop furthest away from the large and possibly-poisonous workshop table that dominated his shop's basement, lounging around on a veritable mountain of pillows and cushions that had accumulated over time. He hadn't really been expecting his friends to show up for lunch, but it would never even <em>occur</em> to him to complain about it.


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"Joce, it's <strong>your</strong> shop. I'm pretty sure it's your <em>job </em>to get the door." Vanalie stretched out pointedly, placing her feet over Avaric's shins to prevent him from standing up.


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"I-Damnit, Van." Bracing himself against the wall, he staggered up and over to the door with sandwich in hand. Throwing it open, he bowed his head at the visitor. "Welcome to the Broken Vial, is there something I can-oh! Belenar!"


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[Blakie13]

"Oh, uh, hello," the elf said gently, his Thalassian accent thicker in his nervousness. "Lillic dropped me off..." he started to explain, not at all sure what to say to the man standing before him. He could just barely see past Jocryn's frame, unable to make out Avaric or Vanalie.


It was a relief to at least know that Avaric was there, at the very least.


"Who is it?" The elf heard Avaric call. Bel still wasn't even sure how to explain why he was there to Jocryn.