Banquet of Dementia

[Eltana Remarque]

As one would expect of a city the size of Du Aurella, there were many restaurants and similar establisments lining almost every street. Most of these were meant for commoners and peasants, but every now and then a palatial restaurant could be seen--places where only the nobles and aristocrats could afford to eat. Probably the most esteemed restaurant was just north of the castle itself; a mass of white marble, onyx, and crimson tapestries, sticking out like a luxurious island in the middle of a sea of run-down cottages and tenements. This establishment, the Du Aurellan Theater, served as not only quite possibly the best restaurant in the city, but the most renowned play house, as well.

On this particular day a meeting was being held among the most esteemed and influential aristocrats of Du Aurella; they would usually meet to discuss what new works of art or commodities they purchased, show off new outfits, and so forth. These people were awful excuses of human beings--they would talk badly of those even slightly lower in status than they, and even head out and throw food at the commoners from the outdoor balconies as if it were feeding time for livestock! The Theater House itself was pretty much full of the scum of the earth, but these snobby bastards were the creme of the crop.

The club of aristocrats was gathered on a large balcony overlooking the main auditorium in which an opera from one of the eastern countries was being performed, sitting at an expansive dining table covered by an expensive silken tablecloth. Decorating the table were crystal wine glasses, china plates covered with the finest food available, and a glorious, jewel-encrusted centerpiece. The nobles themselves were conversing in the usual airy tones, emitting bizarre laughs whenever one of their cohorts said something remotely amusing. A medium-sized chandelier was hanging above the table, providing dim light to the otherwise dark chamber.

One elitist, however, was not talking with the others--Eltana Remarque, a weapons dealer from the Northern Mountains. This person was pretty strange, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst his peers--as in, he resembled an evil woman/bird hybrid more than the man he was. He was clothed in a violet dress decorated with designs of black vines and leaves; while it was tight around the torso, the legs and sleeves were considerably droopy and loose. The dress left his snow white shoulders exposed, and a silky black poof was tailored below the visible skin. Most notable about this bizarre specimen would have to be the horned, crimson headdress he wore that closely resembled a bird's beak.

Amor mio, caro bene
Perché vai lontan da me?
Giurasti un amor, che mai non dovea
Aver fine per noi

"So as I was saying, the princess will surely be marrying my son Raphael! The king confirmed it himself! Well, he smiled at me, so that's as good as an actual confirmation. Right? Right?" prodded one of the more annoying nobles, tapping the girlish man on the shoulder.

"Modestine, remember that I am not interested in your tales. If you must be so obstinate as to force them upon me, please do it in a quiet tone; for I'm trying to enjoy the opera," scolded Eltana in his usual soft, abnormally feminine tone, glancing at the noble with his bright amber hues. Of course, because he was wearing that beak visor headdress, it couldn't be seen.

"You're no fun!" whined the hambeast of a noble, taking a bite of the turkey leg he grasped in one of his massive hands before trotting off to annoy his other friends.

Nei momenti di tristezza
Nei momenti di dolor
A te, mia stella, penso
Con infinito ardore

Even though Eltana had a plate of delicious lobster and steak ready for him to dig into, he wasn't interested in eating it just yet; when he decided to, he would merely pick at it and throw the rest at those street rats crowding the streets below. After all, gluttony wasn't ladylike, was it? At the moment he was more interested in listening to the opera. In his hand, which was covered in a shoulder-length black glove adorned with various gems, was clasped an oriental fan as black as the night itself; he held the fan in front of his face, concealing what little of his visage that could be seen without it.

"Such an exquisite opera, no? I sincerely doubt those uneducated buffoons in the army could appreciate such a lovely symphony," commented Eltana as he finally lowered his fan, taking a glass of red wine in his gloved hands and bringing it to his lips.

"I agree! Those fools are so uncultured!" chimed in almost every other noble at the table.

The weapons dealer ignored the further comments, too captivated by the current scene to listen--not that he would have, anyway. The news of the hero's death in the unceasing war was delivered to the heroine, who was now contemplating suicide. Eltana couldn't help but smirk at this; for he would cause similar scenes all over the world with the weapons he provided Osirus and his men with, destroying families, separating lovers, ruining lives. The thought of it made him absolutely giddy inside.

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

Long lashes stay tightly closed against pale cheeks as they let their emerald optics rest, only the ears of the being put to use as both the opera and the voices of the nobles filled his ears and more so, his mind. The docile tones of the opera were both pleasing and yet, piercing as well. It was like a rose. The opera had beauty no one else could compare to and yet, to him, it stung like the thorns of a rose. He was both uncultured and cultured enough to hate and enjoy the opera. It was like eating the chocolate lemon rinds that the King seemed to enjoy so much. At first, it was pleasing to the palate, the rich chocolate melting in your mouth. Then, without warning, the sour lemon would hit your tongue and instantly the back of your jaw would seize up in pain.

That is what the opera was like to Israfel.

But this was only out of sheer duty that he was at this opera. Yes, duty. Duty to his King and duty to his General. The King would not waste a war general or his right hand man (or woman as was the case with Lourette) on something as making sure the nobles weren't attacked by the scum of the city. Alas, for Israfel was both above the rankings of one who had to babysit and yet, he was not quite good enough to be considered something short of a simple bodyguard. But, today it was merely the fact that he was available and had nothing better to do. Besides, it would provide a chance for him to gain headway on noble gossip. Despite their pampered looks and disgusting eating habits, they often held information that was rather valuable.

Posted to the right of the entrance, Israfel stood with his back against the wall, facing the balcony and the nobles. To his left, another soldier, one of his own underlings, stood erect and at attention, one arm at his side and the other holding a spear at his side. Israfel, donning his usual red ochre armor, stood so that he was a little less professional with his back resting against the wall and his arms folded over his chest. After all, nobles didn't care for his presence, so their was no need for him to look glorified. With his chin tucked in at his chest, his green hair spilling over his face and shoulders, he listened intently to everything around him.

Hmph...so far, nothing but useless banter... Israfel thought to himself.
I doubt anyone will say anything about the swords...The King is getting really desperate to gain information on them. With the first one coming by sea, its no wonder he wants to make sure it gets here...But to use me as an errand boy... Israfel growled, baring his teeth for a moment.
"Such an exquisite opera, no? I sincerely doubt those uneducated buffoons in the army could appreciate such a lovely symphony."Israfel snapped open his eyes and followed the docile tones to the one person whose beauty to battle that of the opera itself. Growling, Israfel let his arms drop.
"Eltana..." I wonder if the walking doll knows anything about the swords...He is a weapons dealer, or so I've heard from the King...One would think many swords have passed his hands...But I cannot approach him like this...The nobles would think odd...
"Hmph, like I care...But I shall wait and see if he notices me...I will be greatly revered if I can gain information for the King before Eltana can give it himself..." Israfel said as he loosened his stance, instead, now placing his hand on his hip.

The soldier at his left turned and looked at him from under his iron visor.
"Um...Sergeant...? Isn't that an improper stance?" Israfel frowned, popping his neck for a moment, the chains on his back making a slight noise.
"Shut up fool...God...idiots, the whole lot of them..." Israfel growled, his green eyes staring intently on Eltana.

[Eltana Remarque]

The soliloquy of the poor heroine dragged on for quite a while. Because of their ridiculously short attention spans, many nobles quickly lost interest in the troubles of the poor protagonist. Most of them only came because attending the opera was a sign of high status and a cultured mind--not because they were actually interested in it. The only things about the theater they truly found appealing were the delicious food and the fancy decor. There were few exceptions, such as Eltana, but this was the case for almost all of them.

Now seeking entertainment, the nobles decided to occupy themselves until the opera became "interesting" again. Some shoved food down their throats, while others simply conversed with each other in especially loud voices without regard for those trying to listen to the girl's song. Unfortunately, several of the nobles were feeling a bit sadistic and decided to torment a few of the soldiers--they stood in front of the guards, mocking them for their low status while spitting chewed food in their faces, probably intentionally.

Un legame senza speme
Perche' mai dovrei aver?
Che cosa tu vuoi ch'io faccia oramai
Mi Devi dire tu

"Huh? What? Am I bothering you?" mocked one of the more gluttonous nobles as she smacked an unfortunate soldier across the face with a gravy-smothered turkey leg. The soldier flinched, but stood at attention and took the obese woman's insults in stride. Some other soldiers, however, were visibly shaking in either disdain or anger at the nobles and their taunting. Some looked like they were ready to draw their swords and cut the hambeasts to pieces, actually.

A discussion about King Osirus and his activities was going on at the banquet table while the nastier nobles had their fun. It was first about the Order of Lumens and how quickly they were going to fall at the hands of Osirus, but then changed to a more interesting subject:

"So, what about those Four Swords? I really don't know much about them." commented one of the aristocrats as he took a sip of his wine. Needless to say, the mentioning of these hallowed blades caught the attention of almost every noble sitting at the massive table.

Ti ringrazio, caro bene
Amor mio, vita mia
Al grave doler, al buio timor
Che il cuore mi turbo'

"Well," began a hulking woman as she licked the butter from one of her massive hands; "I think the Four Swords are--"

"A result of desperation."

This remark from Eltana grabbed the attention of the entire table--every eye rested on the effeminate man with the beaked head dress. Eltana brought a glass of red wine to his pale lips, took a small sip, then lowered it to the table before continuing: "A legend contrived by fanciful minds, meant to put troubled minds at ease at times of war and conflict. The swords are nothing more than a legend, an old wives' tale."

"But the king--," interjected one of the nobles, only to be cut off before he could finish his objection.

"King Osirus is merely making a political maneuver. The sword coming by sea is nothing more than a falsehood meant to instill faith in the common people and nobles alike, to enforce the belief that we have legendary weapons at our disposal, and therefore will certainly be victorious."

Eltana paused before once again taking a sip of his wine. "Then again, that's just my opinion on the matter. He could very well have discovered a legendary blade."

The crowd stared in confusion for a few minutes, then eventually dispersed to go throw food at the commoners from the balcony overlooking the streets. Eltana sat at the head of the table with a very evident, growing smirk on his lovely visage.

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

"What a stupid thing to say..." Israfel grumbled as he listened intently on Eltana. What would he know? Was he empowered by the great and feared Nocens Atrum? No. Did he desire nothing more highly than to slay Lumen by the order of the Four Swords? No. Eltana was nothing more than a wandering harbinger with a taste for steel.
He wouldn't last a day accompanying King Osirus. The King knows exactly what he's going after and fools like Eltana will surely fall by the very blade the King desires.

Israfel glanced to where the soldiers posted elsewhere about the balcony now glanced at him with disdain. Surely the treatment they were receiving from the nobles would go unnoticed, but they still couldn't help but stare at their Sergeant for any known sign to attack. Sure, Israfel felt for them considering their Knight Captain had been slain by the King for disobeying his call, but all Israfel could do was glance at them lazily and chuckle. They clung to him now like lost lambs without a shepherd. He could do something, of yes he could. And no one would know the better. But he was not going to let his soldiers know it would be he who did it. Besides, his attention was more focused on Eltana.

Hmph...so he thinks its nothing more than a myth? What an idiot... Israfel closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment.
"Act of desperation? What a load of crap..." Israfel muttered.
"S-sir! Maybe you should not speak so loud..." Israfel glanced a the soldier on his left and frowned.
"These pigs are too busy stuffing their face to notice me...unless..." Israfel glanced at Eltana again and smiled. Pushing himself from the wall, he motioned a soldier to come and take his post. The soldier did so ever so quickly as Israfel walked boldly up to Eltana, taking a seat between Eltana and a rather perturbed looking noble. There, he crossed one leg over the other and removed his helmet, shaking out his long hair.

"Greetings Eltana Remarque, oh Honored one. I couldn't help but over hear your conversation about the swords. You think its nothing more than a myth, say you? Oh, don't mind me..." He muttered as he swiped some noble's wine, guzzling it down. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, holding the glass in his hand with poor gesture.
"You're a man who sleeps with steel, how could you believe that such swords do not exist? What about the stories of fabulous swords that created nothing but havoc in the world? Surely, those are signs of swords that mere mortals cannot wield alone..." He said.

[Eltana Remarque]

The several nobles still sitting at the table immediately glared at the Sergeant Major General as he positioned himself between the weapons dealer and the uneasy aristocrat. Even though they were stuffing their faces, they were still on the lookout for any newcomers. As said before, this particular group of elitists considered themselves the best of the bunch, better than all the other royals; therefore, only the creme of the crop was allowed the pleasure of sitting at their table of glory. Had the majority not departed, there would have definitely been a violent scene.

An unsettling silence consumed the table as the military dog addressed one of his betters in blood and status. Nobles were red in the face with anger, and looked about ready to lash out at the green-haired man. And they would have, had it not been for their curiosity; they were interested in how one of the most esteemed members of their club would address such a disrespectful pawn of King Osirus. Finally, the uneasiness was broken by Eltana's icy voice:

"Using your words, Sergeant," began Eltana nonchalantly without even glancing at Israfel--then again, he might have, but it was impossible to tell because of the visor; "they are stories, nothing more. The Legend of the Four Swords is nothing more than an ancient fairy tale told to children by their parents to give them a bit of hope, to make them believe there was a chance for them to win a war they would inevitably lose. Unfortunately, these tall tales developed and spread over time to the point where almost everyone believes these fabled objects to be real."

Several nobles began to give their two cents on their friend's behalf, but Eltana raised his hand as a sign for them to silence themselves--which they did. "Would you all mind joining the others on the balcony? I would like to have a word with this man in private." After a moment or two of hesitation, the elitists rose from the table and headed off toward the balcony, casting hateful glances at the Sergeant as they departed. Now the only people remaining on the entire balcony were those two and a small group of soldiers.

The opera was beginning to reach its climax. The hero was discovered to be alive, and he raided the castle in an attempt to save the princess from being wed to the prince of the enemy kingdom. Because of the intensity of the music and the volume of the signing voices, whatever the two discussed would certainly be drowned out by the noise, so only they could hear the conversation. Once the evil prince began to sing about how the princess belonged to him and him alone, Eltana turned to Israfel and gave him a strange smile.

"Those pompous buffoons and their insatiable curiosity. In all honesty, I'm surprised at you, Sergeant. As you said, I sleep with steel; so why on King Osirus' earth would I believe the swords to be a fairy tale? That explanation was merely to satisfy those nobles; the actual existence of the Four Swords is knowledge meant for only those who deserve it. Wouldn't you agree?"

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

"Nnn...quite and yet, without letting even the slightest of information for their hungry palates to taste would mean more rumors and more rumors equal more information passing between unknowing mouths and henceforth..." Israfel paused to pick at an abandoned turkey leg with his fingers, cringing at its gravy laden appearance.

"More information for the King...I know very well what details are entailed with letting these morons know about it, but still...We need the information. Plus, I can't let you go about making stories about our King. Desperation? Heh...Well, it isn't so much a lie...but you can't make him seem too desperate," Israfel said half-heartedly. He smiled amusingly at Eltana, placing one elbow on the table while he placed his hand on his chin.

"Aside from all that...What do you know about the Four Swords? Sure, the first one is coming...but it won't do his majesty any good with only one sword. I would never be able to guess how many swords have passed by those delicate fingers of yours, but I would guess that at one point in your life, you just might have had a brush with one. What do you say, Eltana, spare a little information on behalf of this uncultured swine? Surely, I need to get within the King's favor is he continues to use me as his damn errand boy..." Israfel said, his voice donning a sort of sour tone.

"What with Latties being as big as idiot as he is and Lourette disappearing when she wants...His majesty needs someone more...dependable to work under him..." Israfel said as he rubbed the grease of the turkey leg between his fingers.

"Of course...I'm willing to pay a price if the information is good enough..." Israfel said, looking once again at Eltana. Israfel reached down to his right hip where a heavy bag of coins lay against his armor. He gripped the bag and gave it a jingle. He then chuckled, smirking.
"This military dog will do what is necessary for the right information, I'm not too proud a man to deny that..."

[Eltana Remarque]

The weapons dealer smiled slightly as the Sergeant General began to talk of rumors and their effect on the people. While he did tell his peers that the swords were most likely nonexistant and effectively ended their conversation of it, that was merely to silence them--their airy voices and idiotic banter were things he didn't want to put up with, especially when he was trying to enjoy the opera. In actuality, Eltana was very fond of the countless stories and rumors pertaining to the Four Swords--those supporting their existence, and those trying to prove the contrary--and knew most of them by heart. He was even responsible for starting several of them! The reason, however, was something he kept to himself.

But what did he actually know of the Four Swords? Even though he often told people he didn't pay attention to the gossip concerning them, he knew quite a lot about them. Of course, he certainly wasn't going to reveal everything he knew to Israfel--that would be foolish. He would simply satisfy the fool's thirst for knowledge with a bit of information, and hopefully that would be the end of it. Eltana's amused grin faded once the Sergeant jinged the bag of coins. Did that twit think a mere bag of gold would be equal to the slightest bit of information about the Swords? Why, even a hint was worth a wagon full of gold these days!

Eltana remained silent for quite some time after Israfel finished speaking, eyes resting on the current scene. The prince and hero had begun dueling each other to the death, each man intent on taking the princess as his own. The princess, in the mean time, was fleeing to the top of the castle in order to escape the violence. Knowing the ending from the several times he saw the play in the past, he couldn't help but smirk at the futility of her escape.

Finally, he decided to respond to Israfel: "What I know I will tell you free of charge, so please put that bag away. Be aware, though, that information pertaining to the swords is worth far more than a bag of coins," he said smoothly, his voice taking on an amused tone at the mentioning of the coins. Eltana raised the glass of wine from the table with his gloved hand and brought it to his lips, finishing off the red alcohol that remained. He licked his lips clean of it, savoring the taste.

"...The Cruor Sword, as you know, has been located and is almost in the hands of our liege; so we won't be dwelling on that. There is a group closing in on the location of the Dolus Sword, and will probably be in possession of it relatively soon. The identity of the traveler who owns it is known by a few, and they will go to great lengths to obtain it."

Eltana broke his explanation for a moment to cut off a piece of the lobster tail resting on the plate before him. He dipped a portion into a small cup of butter, then bit it from the fork. Quickly dabbing his lips with a white cloth, he returned his gaze to Israfel and resumed speaking: "...The Saevio Sword...," he stopped, then chuckled, apparently very amused by something; "don't worry your grass-covered head about that. What you should be searching for now is the Odium Sword, the Sword of Hatred..."

He broke off again for suspense, hoping to garner the Sergeant's attention. After yet another pause he continued: "..The blade you seek lies in the darkest depths of an earthly Oblivion, the place of absolute hatred. It is hidden away in the deep south, sealed away by the Shade long ago. Beware, for many traps and trials await those who dare attempt to procure it. As for the exact location,....I'll leave that up to you to find out."

A twisted parody of a smile formed on the womanly man's lips. Eltana was aware that he was being a secretive bastard by giving such cryptic hints, yes, but took great amusement in it.

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

For a moment, Israfel stared at Eltana intently, then blinked slowly and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms over his breastplate for a moment of peaceful thought. But as anyone knows, what goes on in Israfel's head is far from peaceful. He took in a breath and slowly let it out. Cryptic and poetic...I should have known better than to ask this scum... Israfel thought for a moment. Then he slowly opened his eyes and shrugged lightly, taking a biscuit from a basket in the middle of the table to pick at its crusty surface.

"Hmph...I certainly expected more from you, but I guess this is all part of your game, right? To keep me guessing and asking for more..." Damn it...The swords are all connected to each other...like blood brothers. So once we get our hands on the first sword, we shouldn't need this imbecile's information...Still... Israfel glanced at Eltana, the peaks of his cheeks tinged red with the insult and cryptic message.
If his majesty were to hire Eltana full-time and force him to give us the information he needed...then it certainly would be easier...Nikanoru could give him a taste of the Blood Chamber and our search for the swords would end... Israfel's armored hand closed in on the biscuit, crushing it in his hands as he continued to stare spitefully at the elegant man.

"So...you say the Odium Sword is close by...but what about the traveler who is in possession of the Dolus Sword? Do you know who it is or where the traveler is?" Israfel asked, his face tight with restraint. How dearly he would enjoy to rip apart this man's beautiful body with his chains. But he did have information he needed. He would need to gain control over his greatest asset and weakness if he wished to hear more.

"And the Odium Sword...Are you telling me its in Shade territory?" He tossed the biscuit to the floor, throwing both hands on the table.
"Damn it Eltana...if its that close...I could very well grab it the day after I present the Cruor Sword to his majesty! Have you told anyone else this information?" Israfel growled.
"I swear...tell me where it is so I can retrieve it right away!"

[Eltana Remarque]

"Please refrain from cursing in my presence, sergeant. It is very unbecoming of someone with your status, and is the calling card of a Neanderthal with a stinted vocabulary" he chastised very quickly, a hint of annoyance in his voice. Eltana raised his eyes to the general after he shot up and slammed his hands on the table, the slight anger once evident in his face quickly replaced by an amused smile. Did this fool have no self-restraint? Obviously not, or else he wouldn't be such a high-ranking official in the military.

Once again, the weapons dealer turned away from the angered sergeant and observed the opera. The prince was slain, and the hero rushed up to the top of the castle in hopes of finding his beloved; only to discover that she had accidentally fallen from atop the castle into the moat below. The woeful symphony and sorrowful proclamations caused the demented monster to smile even more. He could almost taste the suffering, the pain...

After observing the scene with morbid fascination, he turned back to the sergeant and removed his head dress to reveal a lovely, soft face as white as snow. An abundance of shiny black curls as dark as obsidian cascaded to his exposed shoulders. Most noticeable about his visage would have to be his amber hues as luminous as the moon itself; while beautiful, the orbs had a very psychotic and almost unworldly glint.

"My dear grass man," he began once again as he plucked a rose from a vase to his right and began to braid it into his hair; "you need to be polite and courteous if you expect me to provide you with more information. And you don't seem to be appreciative of what I already gave you--information without price, something very rare in this day and age. If you don't mind me saying, you are quite ungrateful."

Having finished braiding the blood red rose into his hair, Eltana rested a soft cheek in the palm of his right hand and stared at Israfel. "The Odium Sword is in Shade territory, I'll verify that much; if you want to know the exact location, that'll cost you a tidy sum. As for the Dolus Sword, I may know the traveler's identity; and if I do, and this is hypothetical, that would also come at a hefty price. Being a kind and generous man, I will tell you that the traveler is probably far away from Du Aurella."

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

Israfel's face was livid with anger now, but he took several sharp breaths and slowly sat down, his clenched fists still indicating anger. He's starting to sound like her... He shut his eyes for a moment, letting his ears capturing the last few requiems sung by the operetta before his opened his eyes again, staring at Eltana. Had Eltana been a woman, Israfel might have considered checking his anger and instead of gaining information through force or bribery, he might have tried to seduce the information from him. But, as the case was, he would have rather bit his own tongue off than try to seduce Eltana. His emerald eyes stared at him as if trying to burn a hole through Eltana's head.

"You need to be polite and courteous if you expect me to provide you with more information. And you don't seem to be appreciative of what I already gave you--information without price, something very rare in this day and age. If you don't mind me saying, you are quite ungrateful." Tch, he's beginning to sound like...

"Israfel! Don't speak with such a tone. You need to be polite and kind when speaking to others..."
"Isra, do not yell in here, its not courteous to others..."
"Israfel, why can't you be quiet like La'Dar?"
"Israfel, mind your manners!"

"Please refrain from cursing in my presence, sergeant. It is very unbecoming of someone with your status, and is the calling card of a Neanderthal with a stinted vocabulary."

"Israfel! What have I told you about swearing?"
"You're beginning to sound like your father...What a filthy mouth..."
"Oh, Isra...please use kinder words..."
"Israfel!"
"Isra!"
"Isra!"

Israfel frowned and ran a hand through his long, green locks before looking back at Eltana. Clearly...threatening him is not going to be the way to deal with him...Just what does he want from me?
"You're right...My apologies Honored Eltana Remarque. I have a hard time controlling my anger, but that was no way to speak to such an official. My apologies..." Israfel said, spitting out the words like they were sour. He managed a smile before continued to address Eltana.

"This price that you're asking...what is it? As a Knight of Du Aurella...I'm sure I can...append whatever your price may be..." Israfel said slowly as if to taste the words before letting them spill past his lips.

[Eltana Remarque]

He listened intently, taking in the sergeant's apology and replaying it in his head over and over again. The brute was still angry, no doubt, but he finally broke and remembered his place. Eltana laughed inwardly at this, having always taken a sadistic pleasure in watching people back down before him. Something about smashing a person's pride into thousands and thousands of little pieces just... enthralled him.

Eltana closed his eyes, considering a proper price for such valuable information. He tapped his fingers against the table as he thought it over, the sound of the abnormally long nails rapping against the table muffled by the interference of the tablecloth. His expression was that of a person in deep thought. What would an appropriate price be for the information? After all, the knight could definitely afford it.

Dolcemente, con amore
Hai risposto al mio gridare
Per sempre ognor, per sempre ognor
Qui a me, t'attenderò

A believable scream echoed throughout the theater as the hero took his own life, unable to bear the pain of living without his loved one. His thin lips curved into a smile as he heard this scream, undoubtedly taking a sadistic pleasure in it. In fact, that was the main reason he decided to attend the opera this evening--that agonizing scream of pure suffering. His sadism satisfied, Eltana opened his eyes and addressed him once the chilling scream came to an abrupt end:

"..I thank you warmly for your most sincere apology, sergeant. Rarely have I ever come across emotionally refined knights such as yourself. As for the price, how does twenty thousand gold pieces sound? This will cover the location of the Odium Sword, and.... possibly the name of the traveler, if I desire to recollect it."

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

Israfel stared at him for a moment, trying to block his shock. T-twenty thousand? Do I look like I'm made out of god damn gold!? Israfel paused for a moment, then brought a hand up to his forehead where he rubbed it, trying to stave off his shock.
There's no way I can pay him that much...It'd drain me completely... Israfel blinked and made a fist out of his hand, resting the round part of his palm on his hot head. His long green hair fell about his face as he closed his eyes for a moment.
But what he may have might just be the answers we need exactly...I'm not going to ask Laties for it either...But, what about...

"Nikanoru..." Israfel looked up, regaining composure. He frowned, letting his hands rest flatly on the table for a moment before they clenched again.
"I...I cannot pay that sum of money at the moment...But I am willing to ask Lord Advisor Nikanoru about the sum however. I might be able to argue your sum out of him...if you're willing to wait, that is..."
No way will Nikanoru give me what I want after I insulted him when he was reprimanding Laties...This isn't going to work...I can't pay him...

Israfel looked aside for a moment, then stood.
"Actually...on second thought...I'll just take what I've got and go off of that. I'm sorry, Eltana...but I cannot pay your price. Besides, I've got enough information now to set up a search," Israfel said. He rested his hands on the table while he stared at Eltana spitefully.
"But I swear it...if anyone else gets ahold of this information, I will personally come after your head. Oh, no," Israfel said, standing straight now, holding his helmet at his side.
"I'm not threatening you...just a warning...I thank you for the information you've given me tonight. Hope you enjoyed the opera..." Israfel said smartly.

[Eltana Remarque]

The sadistic smile gracing his features quickly faded at the mentioning of Lord Nikanoru. He had heard that name many a time during his travels across the land of Alyssus, but hadn't seen the man in such a long time--far too long. A genuine, sorrowful frown formed on his pale white face as he recollected some old memories; realizing this, he forced the warped smile back on and returned his attention to Israfel.

As he suspected, the knight couldn't pay the price. How unfortunate! And that was a such a tiny price compared to some others he had given to others searching for the swords! Because he wasn't particularly fond of this buffoon, he gave him a high price on purpose--the actual price would have been around ten thousand gold pieces. But Eltana didn't really care--he just wanted to crash this imbecile's hopes and dreams of gaining favor with King Osirus.

"You cannot afford the information? Such a shame. Well, I'm glad to hear that the information I gave you freely will suffice," he commented nonchalantly, admiring his reflection in the empty wine glass.

Eltana quirked an eyebrow in surprise as the sergeant gave him a "warning". Overcoming the initial surprise, he lowered his thin eyebrow and smiled rather arrogantly. "I'm afraid that warning came a little too late, my dear grass man. Several other Knights of Osirus came to me over the course of this week, seeking information. And because they were able to provide suitable compensation, I provided them with quite a bit of information. That being said, I suggest you start searching before one of your peers finds it first."

[Israfel Deu Ausgard]

Israfel stared at Eltana for a moment, his seething anger growing beyond his capability to control it. He was livid in the face before letting a graceful smile spread across his lips.

"Hnn...Is that so?" Then, like a snake lashing out, he gripped Eltana by the collar and raised the skinny man from his seat, dropping his helmet on the table. He growled as he held Eltana mere inches from his face, ignoring the disgusted glares and gasps from the nobles around him.

"Listen to me, you pompous ass. I'm not as stupid to believe in your false words, Eltana...I don't care who it was you gave the information to, only I will get the sword and hand it to his Majesty!" Israfel yelled, shaking Eltana hard.

"You're a filthy aristocrat who cares only for money. Your allegiance is a false one..." He growled, then shoved Eltana back into his chair before grabbing his helmet again, turning his back to Eltana again, his chains clanking loudly against his armored back.
"Snakes...the whole lot of you..." He growled before storming out from the balcony.
"Once I get my hands on those swords, I'll bury them in your pretty little throat...I promise you..." Israfel growled as he left.

::Israfel Exit::

[Eltana Remarque]

As he was lifted from his seat and shaken violently, Eltana glared at his assaulter with flaming hues. He knew he was breaking away at the sergeant's composure, but had not expected him to lash out against him physically--especially considering his lovely appearance! Who could possibly attack someone so beautiful? It was beyond him! What an absolutely barbaric twit! He was kind enough to give him free information, and this is how he was repaid? Ungrateful fool.

Eltana sighed and adjusted his ruffled dress, then sat back down. Once he regained his composure, he performed a mental check on the locations of the swords. The Odium Sword was below the Nocens Atrum Temple, protected by a multitude of traps and monstrous creatures. The Dolus, in truth, he could not say; the last he heard was that it was in the possession of some merchant being pursued by The Order of Lumens. As for the Saevio Sword.... he avoided that subject for a reason.

He poured himself another glass of red wine and held it between two bony fingers, his eyes resting on the alcoholic liquid. The Saevio Sword was rumored to be a piece of armory art on someone's wall---his wall, a wall somewhere in the basement of his expansive home. The ball would most likely come around before Israfel could locate the sword; and at that time he would present King Osirus with The Saevio Sword, which he had acquired five years ago during his travels. And if presenting him with the sword wasn't enough, it would be as a gift! Surely that would earn him quite a high degree of favor.

Eltana raised the glass of red wine to his lips, an amused glint shining in his bright eyes. He took a sip, recalling the traps and demons residing below the Temple as he drank. Most had been there for years and years, but he decided to add a few once he discovered the location of the Odium Sword. Soldiers paid him for the location of their own grave. How utterly amusing!

"Farewell then, Israfel..," murmured Eltana as he lowered the glass; "I doubt the two of us will meet again."

-concluded-