[For Renard] Whiling it away

[Gillermo Stregazza]

The Cockeral stank of spilled beer and its riotous customers reminded me of the Carthagenian market and its slave trade. But this place was familiar, too, and a good place to listen to possible rumors.

And rumors, I had been listening to indeed. Deaths and marriages galore, enough to make my mind spin, though on the morrow, I felt that I may not remember who'd been bedded and who'd been killed. Blasted bollocks - Terre d'Ange had ever been a whirlwind, and the blasted place hadn't changed one bit in that respect.

I had to send word to the palace and wait, and until then, I listened, hoping to hear word of a Serenissiman beauty, my sweet sister, but the roaches had nothing to say about her.

I ordered another pint of Alban ale and hunched my shoulders over the bar, brooding. She'd better not be dead, I told myself obsessively.

Couldn't live with it.

[Renard de Valliers]

After settling my things at an Inn, I made my way over to Night's Doorstep to settle in to the Elua culture. I wasn't looking forward to being in the center of royal and noble society, but there wasn't a way around it.

I opened the door to The Cockeral and headed to the bar. I sat beside a stranger, tapped my hand on the bar, "3 shots of Whiskey." I liked my alcohol with a bite to it. I gave the man beside me a look of acknowledgement before turning straight ahead waiting for my shots to be set up.

[Gillermo Stregazza]

Whiskey - the damn liquor had a particular meaning to me, and I glanced at the new arrival, nodded in responding acknowledgement, then downed the tail end of my pint.

I gestured to the host for another and let out a frustrated groan.

Where could she be? I had hopes. I had an aging mother to reassure, and determination on my side. But by Asherat, where to start?

"Three only?" I drawled in the direction of the young man sitting next to me.

Start where you are, I guess, was the decision I'd taken.

[Renard de Valliers]

I picked up the shot and put it to my lips, I leaned my head back and let the liquor run fire down my throat. I swallowed the whiskey, and gave a smirk to the man beside me, "Three to start. I might order more. What are you having?" I gave the man a dubious look before downing my second shot. I glanced at his glass to see if I could tell by looking.

I offered my hand to him, "I'm Renard, by the way." It seemed inappropriate to exchange titles and last names at the moment.

[Gillermo Stregazza]

The place did not beckon formality, and frankly, I'd learned the hard way that who I was remained much more relevant than my name, or whatever grandiloquent word preceded it. Besides - would my name mean anything, when I was thought dead?

"Gil," I replied, simply as I raised the pint to Renard. Ah, Fox. A fitting name - one I had worn in another life. I'd lost the flamboyance it required.

"Alban ale, fit for a Cruarch," I lied evenly, exaggerating the quality of my drink only by half. I was a traveler, in a poor man's inn, drinking a poor man's ale. Sarcasm was sweet rhetoric in any tavern.

_{OOC: Edited for grammar and spelling, 1000 apologies. >.<}

[Renard de Valliers]

I nodded when he mentioned his name. It was very short and to the point."Alban ale? Never tried it before," I responded easily. I signaled to the bartender, "I want to try what he's having, a Alban ale."

I picked up my shot of whiskey and lifted it in the air, "Here's to a life free of drama." I downed the shot and placed it on the bartender.

When the ale came onto the counter, I picked it up and took a sip. I laughed out, "Taste like piss water." I laughed again, glancing at Gil.

[Gillermo Stregazza]

I shrugged, but if truth be told, Fox amused me, and his laughter made my lips twitch in something about which I'd forgotten the ropes. "Camel piss is what it is, boy," I replied with sternly. "But it's cheap and keeps one's stomach full."

I didn't smile, no, but the feeling was there. In all earnest, he reminded me of myself - of another person I used to be, and my fingers twitched - again, that tick, that itch to touch a scar I didn't want on my face.

"But perhaps you've grown accustomed to bear's sweat, instead," I volunteered, both teasing and fishing. Easing into a more serious topic, more importantly.

[Renard de Valliers]

I laughed when he spoke about camel piss with such a serious expression. I shook my head at him. "I guess that's better than dog piss...they don't stay out in the heat all day."

I shook my head when he mentioned bear's sweat, "Nah, sweat of the dog is much more prevalent.." I took another sip of the drink and gave a wince of disgust. Although it actually didn't taste as bad as the first taste.

I turned toward Gil, "You don't look like you're from around here. Did you just come in to Elua?" I asked the question casually.

[Gillermo Stregazza]

It was amusing to see his reaction to the Alban ale - I'd done the same with whiskey, once, during a conversation about turtles and passed notes. The thought made me ache with grief, sending a spasm to the corner of my lips.

"La Serenissima," I replied succinctly. "But this is not my first stay."

It was in fact my third, and I'd yet to draw a list of calls to place, but brave as I was in front of danger, I shuddered to visit Lessandrie's home and be told that she'd died, I feared that the same had befallen Mirielle, or sweet Riva, the brilliant Nicola.

I'd been here on official duty once - a shining ambassador sent to impress Queen Sabrina. I returned impoverished, alone, to a land ripe with lost memories.

"I was here, once," I added, as a tired afterthought.

[Renard de Valliers]

I nodded to the man. I had never been to La Serenissima, but I've heard of it. It looked as if a lot was on this guy's mind. I wondered if he had some kind of personal goal that he needed to achieve. He looked like someone on a mission.

I took a swallow of the camel piss water, "How is your swordsmanship? I'm looking for a sparring partner."

[Gillermo Stregazza]

The question shook me out of my quiet brooding - aye, a sparring partner. I would be in need of one as well, with a year of enslavement and wandering. My hand twitched and I felt a smirk growing on my face.

"In dire need indeed, that you would ask a near stranger so soon," I replied quizzically. "How are yours?"

If truth be told, I was rustier than my sworld, but Stephano Calderon's teachings were hard to forget, as were familiar movements and gestures. I wasn't refusing the offer, though - negotiation is a game and way of life, in my country, and I'd played it less than I should have in the past year.

[Renard de Valliers]

I shrugged my shoulders, "Almost everyone is a near stranger when you come into the city. "

I considered his question before responding, "I have above average swordsmanship. I've been practicing since I was 10 years old, when I could hold a sword. I usually practice in the Camael temple, but I would be willing to spar anywhere. Do you have a home already set here?"

[Gillermo Stregazza]

Ah, a home. I did once, but I was counted amongst the dead and so had no claim to it, until her Majesty allowed me to exist once more.

"Nay," I replied, though the answer was one I was loath go give. I smiled wryly. "Do I look wealthy enough for such a luxury?"

I didn't expect I did, truth be told. I was purposely keeping a low, low profile.

[Renard de Valliers]

I shrugged my shoulders, "I try not to judge others by appearances alone. Do you have a place to stay?" I wondered if I might be speaking to someone who was homeless or someone who wandered the streets. Was he going to be able to pay for his drink or had he planned on skipping out? I didn't like to associate myself with thieves, but I didn't mind helping out a stranger in need. However such charity is only given with precaution and understanding.

[Gillermo Stregazza]

I was pleased to know that the humble appearance I sought to maintain hadn't been betrayed by my upbringing, and I nodded just once, appreciating Renard's wisdom. He made me smile wryly.

"You speak wisely," I told him before I hid my smirk in my mug of ale and downed the rest of my drink. "As for my upkeep, your kind concern is appreciated. A cockroach finds a home in the nest, and so I've set up lodgings here, in the meantime. I barely stepped off the horse, so to speak."

[Renard de Valliers]

I gave him a small smile, "Thanks." I didn't consider myself a wise person, I just felt like I was living a life of common sense. However, it was nice to think that others saw me that way.

I nodded when he mentioned that he had barely stepped off his horse, "Well, feel free to stop by my town home in East Borough. We can spar in the gardens or the courtyard. What is your experience in fencing? Have you fought in any significant events?"

[Gillermo Stregazza]

Oh, I'd fought enough, aye, and my smile was a bit more wry, nigh cocky in its self-assurance.

"If not for my trusty rapier, my lord, I would not be here to converse with you so pleasantly," was my simple response. "I do like to think that I put up a challenge."

That was all I would say, thus far, of the extensive training I had received in Aragonia, or of the work I had done as the Doge's envoy to foreign nations. Besides, my most significant battle, in Nubia, had had no press, and that was well and good. I'd paid the sufficient price for it, in those days.

It was best left unmentioned.

[Renard de Valliers]

I gave Gil a smirk, "Well, if you have the time available, look me up then. I'm always up for a good challenge. The more challenging my opponent, the better I become."

I lifted up the mug and drank the rest of the ale, "Perhaps we will meet again, kind, sir." I pulled out some coins and paid for my shots and the ale. I offered my hand to the man as I prepared to leave.

[Gillermo Stregazza]

"Without a doubt," I replied as I gave Renard a firm handshake. I smiled, then, a smile open and earnest, fitting the young Duca of my younger days.

"I shall call on you, and if truth be told, you may come to regret the challenge, my lord."

He seemed eager to leave - business to handle, perhaps, or a woman waiting. I envied his ease and carefree demeanor, if truth be told.

I would call on him soon enough - a sparring partner was a welcome present from Lady Fortuna, indeed.