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[Smiticles]

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The rumors had been going around amongst his friends for a while now. Mr. Poet’s garden had undergone a transformation and in its place stood a beautiful parlor designed in a theme like those of the city of Zento. It had been a while since Smiticles had traveled down those roads so he decided to have a look at this new Asian Temple of Jocularity himself. Arriving out front via the holy words of the sacred journey, Smiticles was almost disoriented by the new look. Having seen the garden so many times in the past, this new structure made him take a good look around to be sure he was, in fact, in the right place. Luckily the neighboring homes had not changed and he felt reassured.

While stabling Mr. Twain he noticed Toranado was also stabled which meant that Max was here. He hadn’t seen his guild master in a while and was glad to see he had returned from his travels. The fact that he went straight to an alehouse instead of to see his friend was a topic for another day.

Upon entering the tavern, by chance, the first soul he saw was Max himself. He was not alone but was sitting and conversing with Ceinwyn, the half-drow women Smiticles knew from his involvements with the Legion of Justice. He must admit that he always found her mix of dark elven and human features to be quite astonishing. No wonder Max came straight here!, he mused. The site of Max and Ceinwyn also bothered him a bit. Considered to be one of the most traveled members of the ALV had left him as also one of the most cynical members of the guild. His dealing with many different types of people has left him with little trust for others he did’t know well and an instinct for those who are trouble. Ceinwyn had always left that uneasy type of feeling with Smiticles. Maybe it was the Drow in her or maybe not but there was always something in his dealing with her that made the hair on the nape of his neck stand as straight as an arrow. I really hope he knows what he’s doing, he thought of Max.

Making his way to their table and greeting each other after a while led to a brief conversation. Brief because Max actually requested his leave of them as they where in an intimate personal conversation. A bit annoyed, Smiticles took a good look around the room and discovered his good friend and neighbor Claudette sitting with a few others that he new in passing. Well, Max and his drowish hussy be damned, Claudette is always up for a good time and some merriment! With that he made his way to her table.

Approaching Claudette’s table, almost immediately Smiticles knew something was not quite right. The ever cheerful Claudette had a look of dread and her eyes were swollen and red from heavy fits of crying. What ever is the matter my darling? Why are you so distraught? The answers, coming in a mix from Claudette and her small party of guests, Drayden and Mallory, left Smiticles in a state of shock. Their neighbor, guildmate and good friend Briahna, had suffered a terrible fall and her loss of consciousness has left her with no memory of her life. Smiticles’ caring for his friends runs very deep and the thought of Brianha being hurt made his body shake and well up with rage. If not for the slight (and pleasant) touch of a diminutive hand on his arm, he would have erupted in anger on the spot. Looking over he traced the tiny hand up a slender arm to the face of the Lady Mallory. Her touch alone would have been enough but her soft spoken and kind words quelled his anger and his mood subsided enough to actually listen to the detail of the accident. They let on that the accident took place while alone with Ceinwyn during a showing of her home and that a fall on some ice (or snow its not quite clear) was the cause of the amnesia. The mere mention of Ceinwyn’s involvement touched off Smiticles’ suspicions that this was no ordinary “fall”. His old prejudices of her came roaring back in a heartbeat the more he thought of this.

As stunning as the whole situation with Briahna sounded, Smiticles tried to reassure Claudette, Mallory and the gathered group that he had seen such occurrences in battle many times. Such traumas to a soldier generally lead to a recovery over time and he was sure Bri would recover as well. Claudette explained that it was unusual that Bri was not showing any signs of such a recovery. After a bit more conversation on the incident, much with Claudette on the verge of tears, poor Claudette announced her decision to retire for the evening. Smiticles offered to escort her home but she declined. It seemed Drayden had made the offer and Claudette had accepted his kind assistance. To Smiticles it seemed his whole guild had gone crazy like little school girls with thoughts of love.

Thinking of departing himself, he turned to the Lady Mallory to take his leave when the most unexpected thing of the many unexpected revelations of the evening struck him like a mace to his cranium. Mallory was still slightly holding his arm to keep him calm. Her touch had grown so soft and was of such an ease to him that he never noticed the fact that she never let go. Once again he visually traced her hand along her arm and up to her face. What he saw startled him. He never before noticed the softness of her skin or the simple way her hair framed her face. In an almost ethereal way she made Smiticles feel uneasy that he felt so totally calm and comfortable. They spoke some more in depth about this unfortunate accident and Mallory confided in him that she did not trust Ceinwyn’s involvement. He was relieved to find that he was not the only one thinking about her in an untrusting manner. They both came to the speculation that foul play of some sort was involved. While offering her assistance, Mallory yawned slightly and excused herself with an almost embarrassed tone. She was tired and had to take her leave for the evening as well. Saying his goodbyes he watched her head to the teleport that would take her down to the stable. With a hushed laugh Smiticles watched her take the wrong teleporter. Well I won’t let her know I saw that…he thought to himself. She also left him with the phantom feeing of her hand upon his arm and he couldn’t shake the visage of her gentle face in his eyes. She had made him feel so calm so quick. More accustomed to the heaping bodies of undead at his feet than thoughts of romance, Smiticles began to wonder if the crazy antics of his guild where contagious and he had contracted their affliction.

Not many pay much attention to him unless needed for a fight but Smiticles pays close attention to those around him. He was aware of Briahna’s love for Vaen Swiftar prior to the accident. What he was also aware was that Vaen had been involved with both Ceinwyn and Mallory. Once again the cynic in him stepped forward and took hold of his thoughts. Did Ceinwyn do something to Bri out of jealousy? Was Mallory simply comforting him or did he really see that small spark between them? Was she feigning interest in helping find the true cause of the accident because she was caring person or, did she have her own jealous intent at heart? All of these things made his head spin. Great Gods, Paragon Balrons at the edge of the Abyss are easier to deal with then women and love…he muttered aloud to now empty tavern. With that he found his horse and headed home…with that young lady’s beautiful visage still haunting his sight and the feel of her touch clinging to his arm.