LOG: Sealing of a secret.
You concentrate on Desmond's Trump...
RPG: Use '+trump/cancel' to hang up before Desmond takes the call.
The contact with Desmond comes like an icy wind.
Long distance to Desmond: Jibril does this the traditional way.
To the image of Desmond, Jibril says, "Desmond?" He is seated in a wicker chair.
The image of Desmond says, "Yes Uncle?" He stands in a wild and untamed land. "It's good to hear from you. You didn't look so well the last time we were together.""
To the image of Desmond, Jibril nods, "My heart is still heavy with it. There is something I must speak with you about. Will you come to me?" He holds out his hand.
The image of Desmond says, "Of course."
RPG: You offer to pull Desmond through. Use '!withdraw' to cancel this offer.
Desmond appears suddenly, grasping Jibril's hand.
Desmond has arrived.
RPG: The Trump contact ends.
There is no one about as there usually is, the Oasis is nearly dripped in silence. Jibril sits in a comfortable wicker chair by a small table. There is another chair for Desmond. He slips his trump away. "Thank you."
Desmond sketches a respectful bow and takes his seat. He looks around a bit, and then focuses his attention on his Uncle. "So, how is it going. I have to say this Uncle. You still look like Hell. Not that I can blame you....."
There is Jasmine tea, of course. He pours a cup for his nephew. "Like all life's gifts and disasters, the pain will pass in time. There is a delicate matter that I must speak to you about, Desmond. It is concerning your mother."
Desmond looks a bit curious, "Delilah? All right, go ahead. Does it have to do with her upcoming marriage?"
Jibril says, "In a manner of speaking. But first I must note that I have been told that your mother has explained what it is that Navarre can do. A thing that his father trusted only to himself, his sister and me."
Desmond gives his Uncle a blank look, "I have no idea what you are talking about, Uncle." He sighs, "I know that there have been some problems with his family. That's it."
Jibril says, "His father charged me with Navarre's instruction and tutoring in this. Navarre said that your mother told you of a secret, Desmond. This secret."
Desmond gives Jibril a rather confused look. He pulls a flask from his coat and unstoppers it. With a smile he says, "I appreciate your hospitality Uncle. But that tea isn't going to cut it for this conversation. I don't know what you are talking about."
Desmond gives Jibril a very patient look.
"Of course, there is always something stronger in the House of Al'Rachid." He claps his hands together, a maid comes with wine. Strong, alhambran wine with a slight bite to it. It is poured for Desmond in a rich goblet. Jibril regareds his nephew.
Jibril says, "I know what your mother told you, she said such to Navarre."
Desmond nods as he takes up the offered glass. He gestures a toast, "To the unequaled hospitality of Al'Rachid. May it surpass it's former Glory." He takes a sip, and gives his Uncle a level look. "And what of it? I am not at liberty to speak about some things I have discussed with my Mother. You know how it is, Uncle."
Jibril himself appears to be just fine with tea. "I am aware. As your uncle, and given my duty to my Lyonesse friend, I must ask you to swear an oath for otherwise justice will be poorly served and blood may be action taken. Will you swear to me on your grandfather's blood, on your honor that this secret shall not leave your lips? If you stand before me now and make this oath, I will hold it true." He removes his napkin from the table and there is a Tarot Card, slightly faded. It is Brand sitting upon a throne, sword in one hand, scales in the other, with his thumb subtly on one side of the scale. "For your grandfather, Desmond and for your mother."
Desmond takes a sip from his glass. He studies his Uncle for a moment, "This isn't necessary. Before I do such, may we speak...frankly, please?"
Jibril regards Desmond calmly, "As you wish."
Desmond nods, "Let's say a certain fellow does have a secret. Let's say someone found out who shouldn't. Let's assume the man who found out is not a complete idiot. That person would not have to do anything about it...if the 'interested parties' found satisfaction first. That is a correct assumption, is it not?"
Jibril considers Desmond, "It is a more delicate matter than that. I know you are not without sense, but this is a very delicate matter. This involves more than one person than just Navarre. The interested parties have not found satisfaction and cannot until Navarre can be assured that the secret will not be revealed any further. Your oath to me is word of honor and it is enough."
Desmond takes a sip of his wine, "I am willing to give my word to keep my mouth shut about what we both believe we are talking about. My actions I reserve for myself if certain parties ask my help. I will swear to confer with you first on those actions. But I they will be my own." He smiles, "Everyone deserves satisfaction at least once in their lives, Dear Uncle."
Desmond drains a bit more from his glass, "I do not know the man, but Navarre has nothing to fear from me. After all, I will give my own Mother away to him."
Jibril nods to Desmond, "To this I accept. Agreed. That is all I desire and all that is needed. Your mother and her intended are highly passionate people. They think with their heart not their head and often react without thought." He sips his tea. "This is not a bad thing, my nephew. In moderation it is tolerant, but sometimes one makes a mistake, Navarre should never have told Lily, but passion is a dangerous drug when one does not know how to use it." Jibril smiles, "Now, will you swear your oath and perhaps we might progress to more pleasant subjects?"
Desmond takes another sip, "You need something more binding than my word, Uncle? You want blood? I am agreeable to that. I told Del that I would forget it as soon as I left. You brought me here, and brought it back up. What will make you comfortable?"
Jibril stares at Desmond for a long moment, the shadows seem to creep around him and recede, then creep again. "As Pathi Custos I will accept your word standing before me as you hold your sword. Your word is enough. Blood is not needed."
Desmond shrugs and stands. He pulls his sword and salutes his Uncle. "You have my word. I will not speak about what we did not speak about openly here. It's dead to me. My actions in such matter in the future are my own."
Jibril smiles, the shadows do not come back this time. "Very good. I accept your word of honor, my nephew."
>End.
RPG: Use '+trump/cancel' to hang up before Desmond takes the call.
The contact with Desmond comes like an icy wind.
Long distance to Desmond: Jibril does this the traditional way.
To the image of Desmond, Jibril says, "Desmond?" He is seated in a wicker chair.
The image of Desmond says, "Yes Uncle?" He stands in a wild and untamed land. "It's good to hear from you. You didn't look so well the last time we were together.""
To the image of Desmond, Jibril nods, "My heart is still heavy with it. There is something I must speak with you about. Will you come to me?" He holds out his hand.
The image of Desmond says, "Of course."
RPG: You offer to pull Desmond through. Use '!withdraw' to cancel this offer.
Desmond appears suddenly, grasping Jibril's hand.
Desmond has arrived.
RPG: The Trump contact ends.
There is no one about as there usually is, the Oasis is nearly dripped in silence. Jibril sits in a comfortable wicker chair by a small table. There is another chair for Desmond. He slips his trump away. "Thank you."
Desmond sketches a respectful bow and takes his seat. He looks around a bit, and then focuses his attention on his Uncle. "So, how is it going. I have to say this Uncle. You still look like Hell. Not that I can blame you....."
There is Jasmine tea, of course. He pours a cup for his nephew. "Like all life's gifts and disasters, the pain will pass in time. There is a delicate matter that I must speak to you about, Desmond. It is concerning your mother."
Desmond looks a bit curious, "Delilah? All right, go ahead. Does it have to do with her upcoming marriage?"
Jibril says, "In a manner of speaking. But first I must note that I have been told that your mother has explained what it is that Navarre can do. A thing that his father trusted only to himself, his sister and me."
Desmond gives his Uncle a blank look, "I have no idea what you are talking about, Uncle." He sighs, "I know that there have been some problems with his family. That's it."
Jibril says, "His father charged me with Navarre's instruction and tutoring in this. Navarre said that your mother told you of a secret, Desmond. This secret."
Desmond gives Jibril a rather confused look. He pulls a flask from his coat and unstoppers it. With a smile he says, "I appreciate your hospitality Uncle. But that tea isn't going to cut it for this conversation. I don't know what you are talking about."
Desmond gives Jibril a very patient look.
"Of course, there is always something stronger in the House of Al'Rachid." He claps his hands together, a maid comes with wine. Strong, alhambran wine with a slight bite to it. It is poured for Desmond in a rich goblet. Jibril regareds his nephew.
Jibril says, "I know what your mother told you, she said such to Navarre."
Desmond nods as he takes up the offered glass. He gestures a toast, "To the unequaled hospitality of Al'Rachid. May it surpass it's former Glory." He takes a sip, and gives his Uncle a level look. "And what of it? I am not at liberty to speak about some things I have discussed with my Mother. You know how it is, Uncle."
Jibril himself appears to be just fine with tea. "I am aware. As your uncle, and given my duty to my Lyonesse friend, I must ask you to swear an oath for otherwise justice will be poorly served and blood may be action taken. Will you swear to me on your grandfather's blood, on your honor that this secret shall not leave your lips? If you stand before me now and make this oath, I will hold it true." He removes his napkin from the table and there is a Tarot Card, slightly faded. It is Brand sitting upon a throne, sword in one hand, scales in the other, with his thumb subtly on one side of the scale. "For your grandfather, Desmond and for your mother."
Desmond takes a sip from his glass. He studies his Uncle for a moment, "This isn't necessary. Before I do such, may we speak...frankly, please?"
Jibril regards Desmond calmly, "As you wish."
Desmond nods, "Let's say a certain fellow does have a secret. Let's say someone found out who shouldn't. Let's assume the man who found out is not a complete idiot. That person would not have to do anything about it...if the 'interested parties' found satisfaction first. That is a correct assumption, is it not?"
Jibril considers Desmond, "It is a more delicate matter than that. I know you are not without sense, but this is a very delicate matter. This involves more than one person than just Navarre. The interested parties have not found satisfaction and cannot until Navarre can be assured that the secret will not be revealed any further. Your oath to me is word of honor and it is enough."
Desmond takes a sip of his wine, "I am willing to give my word to keep my mouth shut about what we both believe we are talking about. My actions I reserve for myself if certain parties ask my help. I will swear to confer with you first on those actions. But I they will be my own." He smiles, "Everyone deserves satisfaction at least once in their lives, Dear Uncle."
Desmond drains a bit more from his glass, "I do not know the man, but Navarre has nothing to fear from me. After all, I will give my own Mother away to him."
Jibril nods to Desmond, "To this I accept. Agreed. That is all I desire and all that is needed. Your mother and her intended are highly passionate people. They think with their heart not their head and often react without thought." He sips his tea. "This is not a bad thing, my nephew. In moderation it is tolerant, but sometimes one makes a mistake, Navarre should never have told Lily, but passion is a dangerous drug when one does not know how to use it." Jibril smiles, "Now, will you swear your oath and perhaps we might progress to more pleasant subjects?"
Desmond takes another sip, "You need something more binding than my word, Uncle? You want blood? I am agreeable to that. I told Del that I would forget it as soon as I left. You brought me here, and brought it back up. What will make you comfortable?"
Jibril stares at Desmond for a long moment, the shadows seem to creep around him and recede, then creep again. "As Pathi Custos I will accept your word standing before me as you hold your sword. Your word is enough. Blood is not needed."
Desmond shrugs and stands. He pulls his sword and salutes his Uncle. "You have my word. I will not speak about what we did not speak about openly here. It's dead to me. My actions in such matter in the future are my own."
Jibril smiles, the shadows do not come back this time. "Very good. I accept your word of honor, my nephew."
>End.